#i was in a few of them good times made a lot of friends there. anyways

[unbotheredgoose]

if there's one thing you know about yourself is that you shouldn watch your mouth when you're drunk.

but you're out with your friend, and she looks beautiful when she laughs, and it's so good to see her not stressed from work, and it's great that you finally get to hang out after such a long time, and you can't help but ask her:

"why?"

"why what?"

"why do you humans keep wasting so many resources trying to make that earth planet habital? i don't get it."

she gets this somber look in her face. the laughter stops. she looks like she might cry.

you feel terrible.

"i'm so sorry, i shouldn't have... you don't have to answer that-"

"my grandma was born there, you know that?"

you stop talking. she looks distant.

"when i was a kid, she told us all about how it used to be, before everything. when she was little, she lived in a small house with her parents, and her mom grew crops in the garden, and they had a tree that gave them bitersweet fruit on the summers. sometimes birds would make nests on that tree, and she and my great grandma would set up little houses and playthings for the babies to play with.

she was always fascinated by birds. all animals, really, but especially birds. i've never seen a bird in my entire life if not for her drawings, and she always regretted the fact that she never got into coloring to show us exactly what they looked like.

she has pictures of her and her college friends visiting waterfalls and running together in the wilderness. she used to camp, like, a lot, really camp, in the middle of the woods, just her and her friends, like we read in the books. it's different from camping in vr, she kept telling us, we had to actually learn how to not die in the woods.

she married my grandpa at the beach, and... it's so different from the simulations. the sunset was beautiful in the pictures she showed us, but she told us that it was even better in person. she looked so beautiful with her sunburnt skin, even though she was in pain, and we never have to worry about burning our skin because of the sun, everything is all so protected and artificial, we don't even see the sun anymore.

my grandparents promised each other that when they got older they would have a farm. my grandma always wanted a few birds and a big dog. but then, when my parents were ten years old, the planet was so screwed that they had to populate other planets. she kept telling us that she was one of the lucky ones, because my grandpa was in the military and they helped people evacuate, but that most people like her died on earth.

everyone thinks it's our fault, you know? we doomed our planet, why would we even be trying so hard to restore it? i don't know. my grandma did it because she didn't want my parents to grow up in this place, where everything is made up and she did it all for nothing, because we're still here and we know nothing different from it. and to be honest, it's kind of hard to believe it was her fault in the first place. she really did her best. she saved water. she planted trees. she protected birds and other wildlife. she protested.

the truth is: no one listened. no one important enough, at least. no one cared about the little people like her, who were just trying to live their lives in a doomed world, and kept doing her best. the big guys wanted the money and they fucked everyone else over just to have it."

"i'm sorry, i-"

"i guess now that we've lost everything people are finally learning to miss what we used to have. our lives weren't so bad. and we want to go home, even though that doesn't make sense. i don't know what home looks like. i don't know what a bird looks like, or what it's like to stand on a beach and feel the waves lap at your feet, or what the forest smells like. but i keep trying to go back anyways."

she takes a sip of her drink.

you stay silent.

"You humans have hundreds of planets under your control, so why do you waste so many resources trying to make that Earth planet habital? I genuinely don't understand."

[bbokicidal]

"What Happens When..." | [SKZ] OT8 | [FELIX]

You and Felix have a mutual agreement that having others in the bedroom is fun - but tonight you'd invited all seven of them to join.

Genre: Smut [18+ MDNI] Pairing: Felix x Fem!Reader Warnings: cosplay/roleplay, dom!felix, dom!skz, reader gets used like a toy/objectification, lots of jerking off lol, BJ mention, so much cum, there's no mention of who the reader is cosplaying so it's up to your interpretation !! Also little to no dialogue in this one oops

Notes: This IS a short fic and isn't anything really long. There's no plot - it's purely smut for your viewing pleasure and my mental peace, lol. <- And thank you to everyone who waited so patiently for this while I went through my writers block rut, hahaha.

Word Count: 1.2K

Divider by @enchanthings

Felix had told you he was having the boys over before all of this had happened. He'd come to you, said they were having dinner in your apartment, and then maybe having a few drinks while playing a really aggressive game of Uno. But they didn't even get quite that far.

With your boyfriend eager to show off your newly purchased and perfectly decorated (in his opinion) shared apartment, Felix had given the group a tour of the place. Which meant they'd all slowly piled into the room with widened eyes at the sight of you dolled up; Makeup done, wig on, costume snug to your form and ring light propped up with your phone. You'd smiled, shy. "Sorry! Just taking some videos. Am I being too loud...?"

Felix, not having thought too much of your cosplay, just giggled and expressed how much he adored you and how wonderful you looked. But the others shared a few glances behind the blonde, Jisung's hands rubbing over his thighs and Hyunjin's hands already eagerly unzipping his fly.

.

"I never thought this day would come. It's just like she jumped out of the game and into real life." Though maybe Jisung was saying that just because he was behind you and couldn't see your face all that much. He was enjoying himself regardless, tugging on his cock with a tight fist just like every other man standing around you. A pretty pink with a swollen tip and pre leaking down his shaft to slacken every stroke, Jisung's cock looked all the more appetizing any glimpse you caught of it. If you could you would've put it in your mouth immediately, but you were a bit busy as it was.

Chris and Minho had taken to standing on either side of you; Minho's cock heavy, weighing down even when you held it so carefully in your hand. Thick, warm, pulsing each time your thumb slid over his tip to tease at his slit and make him shiver. He'd grow impatient in little to no time, though it had been a good fifteen minutes that he'd let you stop and go with your hand around his cock - so he'd taken your hand into his, thick fingers wrapping over your own to guide you. And he's not gentle with the way he moves your hand along under his own, jerking himself off but to the softness of your own palm.

But to the other side of you, Chris was more willing, more sweet. He'd watched every movement you made for him, your opposite hand fumbling with Minho - and then his own length as you gently grabbed for it. Your fingers ghosted over his thigh before he nudged your wrist with his thumb, a gentle push to your destination. Your fingers wrapped around him so nicely and honestly? The gentle and soft squeeze you gave to the base of his cock every few seconds was enough for him to be happy; Unlike Minho, he was content with the subtle touches - and though you didn't know it, he almost saw it as a form of edging. Which he enjoyed more than he would care to voice aloud in front of everyone else.

Beneath you sat one of your closest friends from the group - The youngest. Of course they'd let him get the best seat in the house, let him indulge in the warmth and sweetness of your dripping walls. Jeongin's legs carefully crossed so he sat with them like a pretzel, letting you kneel atop his lap with your knees on either side of his thighs, pressing hard into the carpet below. He'd been careful, patient, cautious as you settled in his lap - then on his cock; With long fingers reaching down to spread you open for him, so careful of your costume and wanting to keep it clean just in case this ever happened again. You know, future use. He was watching with curious, dark eyes as his length disappeared into you inch by inch. His breath shuddered each time you let your hips roll down into his own before pulling back off, almost letting him slip out of your slick walls. And he whimpered each and every time.

Changbin sat back against the wall, lounging in a chair that you'd had in the corner of your room - just for events like this. You'd discussed it with Felix before, the two of you mutually agreeing that you enjoyed having someone else in the bedroom every so often. Changbin; He visited weekly by this point - that was basically his chair now. Sitting back, thighs spread, cock twitching in his sweats like it always did when he watched you. His chest raised heavy with each breath; slow, steady, calculated. He liked it this way - Not touching himself, not indulging. Just watching and letting his body react to the sight in front of him. And if you could see him he was sure you'd be foaming at the mouth, spit dripping from your lips in anticipation in want to get a hold of him. You'd done it before.

Hyunjin - Well. He'd already lost it. Sitting back against the edge of your bed, pants down around his ankles and body trembling with release, his hand was covered in not one but two loads of cum that'd leaked from his tip. He'd been the first to indulge in his guilty pleasures, lost in the sight of you bouncing on the youngest's cock while still managing to pleasure others around you. You let them use you like this - all dressed up and pretty for them, one of their favorite characters. He was spent by the time you even touched Jeongin or the others, one hand muffling his moans pressed over his mouth while the other continued to shakily tug and rub at his cock - always leaking for you.

The other two..

Felix had allowed his roommate the sweetest of luxuries; Your mouth. While he sat back and just enjoyed the scene, actually kneeling close to your side to keep one hand on the back of your neck and guide you - he tried to keep out of the way of Jeongin. Your boyfriend kept himself leaned in close, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as your mouth wrapped around his roommate's cock; How well you were doing, how you were perfect for Seungmin and how he'd never get over being sucked off by his favorite girl. "You should look up at him," He'll whisper. "He's told me before he loves it when his partners look him in the eye."

And sure enough when you glance up, Seungmin's already staring down at you; Eyes lidded, dark, heavy with lust and pooling with admiration. Despite the nonchalant and almost glaring look on his features, a soft hue of pink dusts his cheeks - proving he really was enjoying getting head from his favorite girl in the world. He let his hand come to your shoulder - then to your head, gently pushing down as his hips rocked forward. And as your throat filled with his cock, cum leaking for you to swallow down, you seemed to come to the realization that this was something you really enjoyed; Dressing up for them, letting them all in on the fun.

Maybe you'd have to do it again.

Tag List : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie @inlovewithstraykids @seungminsbest @edit-me-prettyplease @butterflydemons @satosugu4l @jeonginsleftcheek

[knavesflames]

heyyy el

requesting politely reader ... tending to ... arlecchino with her mouth and going from starting timid to taking a bit more control to arles surprise

lots of care and love just like in the one you just posted :3

mhm ty

Hi anon<33 I hope you are doing well and having a nice night (it’s night for me). I liked this idea >:) sorry lol it took me a while to come up with a concept but I hope this suffices 😁😁😁 (hi guys the dirty words are slowly making a reappearance)

Word count: 2.2k

Contents: soft dom!reader (kind of yes), bottom Arlecchino, cunnilingus (funny word), fingering at the end, orgasm denial (ONCE GUYS OKAY ONCE), also praise (guys I’m cooked)

Songs I listened to (for fun): fantastic- king princess (is this one obvious or not), disease- lady gaga, shhh!- viviz, pivot- HEYOON, boyfriend- dove Cameron, impurities- le sserafim

There’s more but I forgot

Nsft utc<3

Arlecchino is not a receiver. She gives and takes nothing, it’s how she’s always liked it, whatever the reason may be. She has not explained, and you doubt she will. Arlecchino is very secretive, you’ve come to learn. She divulges what she must, and keeps the rest hidden. Even you, who seems to know more about her than anyone ever has, is kept in the dark about a lot of things– what exactly triggers her nightmares? What truly happened with that ‘Mother’ of hers? There are rumours, of course. Arlecchino is mad and cursed, she killed her Mother ruthlessly without reason, she killed her best friend for nothing other than a simple quarrel. You know them to be false, now you know her better, but what you can’t seem to understand is why she lets the lies fester, why allows herself to be portrayed as a cruel monster. She can’t seem to answer you.

Arlecchino also refuses to tell you why she pushes herself so hard, or why she has such strict rules for herself. You beg her to take that damn suit off constantly (for.. Multiple reasons, both you and her know that well enough– she only obliges when it ends in you as a quivering mess on the bed). “What happened to regular clothing? I know you dislike dresses, but you don’t have to force your body into that silly suit all the time.” is a phrase often uttered. Silence is the only answer given.

Silence seems to be an answer you get from her often. In different contexts, of course. Sometimes, she is silent when she is comfortable, when she is thinking, when she is angry.. You realised long ago that she is a woman of few words– and even fewer sounds. During the rare occasions you get to make her feel good (whether that’s simultaneous to your own pleasure, or before), the only sounds you really hear are the soft breaths and the slight grunts whenever you do something she particularly likes. You have made it your mission to coax more sounds out of her, even if it’s the last thing you do. You experiment with different things each time you get to make her feel good, anything remotely sexual she’s done to you, you try with her. Degradation doesn’t work, her only response is a cock of her eyebrow and a scoff. Praise is a little bit better, earning a soft kiss on whatever part of your skin she can reach. Tying her up is out of the question– she has made it abundantly clear multiple times she only enjoys the act of bondage, however small, when you are on the receiving end. It’s the case for a lot of things, and it almost irritates you. Almost. it turns out the answer is something much simpler than anything you’ve ever tried, and you mentally curse yourself for taking so long to figure it out (for Arlecchino, that was the point. She likes the game, even if she truly is trying to keep her weakness hidden).

The answer was something she had done to you almost every time you had engaged in some form of intimate act with her. There aren’t many acts more intimate than your partner giving up the ability to speak because their tongue seems to be.. Busy. You just hadn’t realised that Arlecchino would ever be on the receiving end. So, after much pleading (and begging to the point it almost seems you’re begging her to fuck you instead of the other way around), she seemed to relent. Barely.

“Let me try,” comes the soft whisper from your lips, hitting the side of her neck as you gently place kisses there. There’s no reaction, but you could swear you felt a shiver. Moving away from the milky, unmarred skin of her neck (one of the only places that isn’t marked with either her curse or an array of scars), you almost expertly push the blazer off her shoulders before slowly sinking to your knees. The carpet is fuzzy, but it doesn’t do much to soften the hard wood underneath. You can’t find yourself caring. The blazer lands on the back of the desk chair. Excited, desperate fingers tug at the buttons of those godforsaken trousers until they finally do what you want them to do. You’ve done what you can, you can’t push her hips up so you can continue to take them off, she’s stronger than you’ll ever be (you like that). “Don’t you think it would feel nice? You know it feels nice. Do you not think you deserve it?”

“I do not deserve the pleasure you give me,” she murmurs, a rare show of her inner thoughts. The woman criticises herself too much, you think. You wish she wouldn’t be so strict with herself.

“Irrelevant,” She shivers at the slight sternness of your voice. It mirrors her own. “Do you want it?”

Arlecchino doesn’t respond for a while. Her hand moves to your head, and she caresses your hair, gently stroking and tugging at the strands before she eventually speaks, a whisper, a subconscious attempt to hide the fact she’s about to chase something she never allows herself to. “Put a pillow under your knees, at least.”

You grin, so pleased with yourself. You stand again, only to sprint and find a pillow. It happens to be the pillow you sleep on, it doesn’t matter. You return to your position only to find her trousers messily on the ground, and the top four buttons of her dress shirt undone. The look in her eyes is one you’ve rarely seen– want. “Beg.” you whisper, the grin still on your face. Arlecchino’s own face twists into a frown.

“I will die before I beg for anything.” Her tone is resolute, and you sit there nonetheless, unmoving apart from the finger tracing up and down her toned thigh. You both stay like that for an agonising two minutes before she barely mumbles. “Please.”

You are incredibly aware that you won’t get more than that, so, even though you know it doesn’t do much, you mutter “good girl”. It does do something, though. You barely hear it, but her breath shakes. You take it as an initiative to start, so you let your lips find her thigh, planting wet, open mouthed kisses up towards her inner thigh. You continue, and– she’s soaked already. You’ve done exactly nothing and she’s as wetter than you’ve ever seen her. Your eyes move up to hers, a raise of your eyebrow as you open your mouth to speak, but she cuts you off before you can speak.

“Do not. I am aware of the.. situation.”

“But you’re all wet and it’s all for my tongue. Isn’t that sweet?” You’ve never been this cocky at all, and Arlecchino would be a liar if she said she didn’t like it. She tries to find words, something to refute the claim, but her words are ripped from her lips when she feels your own lips graze her clit. It’s a tiny movement, really, but one she isn’t entirely used to. The only reaction she makes, however, is a slightly sharper exhale. Until your eyes stare straight into hers and you do it again, though for longer. Then again, though this time your tongue presses flat against it. Your tongue doesn’t move, much to Arlecchino’s dismay. The hand that rested in your hair gently tugs.

“Continue.” She speaks breathily, and her words shake. You can practically hear her gulp as she tries (and fails) to calm herself, and you know she’s probably telling herself to show no emotion. Though, when you finally start moving your tongue in slow, languid motions, you hear her shaky sigh and feel her hand in your hair tighten even more. You try to find a rhythm that affects her the most, alternating between soft licks and harder presses— you find that swirling your tongue around her clit, occasionally moving down to dip your tongue into her aching cunt. Your eyes dart up to her every few seconds to catch her mouth falling open and her head tilting back. When her mouth isn’t open, she’s stifling any noise she could possibly make, gritting her teeth so hard you’re almost certain they’re going to crack. The next time you tear your eyes away from her skin and move them to her face, her eyes are squeezed shut, and only then does a quiet groan escape her.

Something seems to change in your mind, because your hands move to grip her thighs, holding them apart despite them trembling. She’s sensitive, after all, it isn’t often she gets taken care of, is it? The blackened hand not pulling greedily at the strands on your head moves in an attempt to push your hands away, but your voice vibrates against her (which of course, causes another quiet sound to slip from her). “Keep your hands on the chair.”

Arlecchino’s eyes shoot open, a gasp practically ripping through her lungs. “You cannot expect me t—“

“Do it or I stop. Let me finish making you feel good.” She scolds herself internally for letting you get too comfortable with her own tricks. Either way, it feels good and she doesn’t want you to stop, though she’d rather cut off her own arm than admit it. She doesn’t need to say a word, though, the small groans (and whimpers) tell you everything. Especially when they grow louder, and her chest begins heaving, and her voice breaks with every utterance of your name. It’s the most pleasure she’s ever outwardly expressed.

“Why did you stop?” Her exasperated, breathless voice echoes the room. You stopped just as her orgasm was reaching the peak, causing it to ebb away quickly, a sense of disappointment growing in Arlecchino’s stomach. Her eyes, now piercing into you with that familiar irritated stare, meet yours, your own full of amusement. Wiping your chin (when you’re eating pussy like it’s the last meal you’ll ever eat, it tends to get messy, doesn’t it?), you chuckle and respond in your own teasing lilt.

“You taste so good, and your pussy is so damn pretty, Arlecchino. I don’t particularly want to stop right now. You can take it, can’t you? Keep your hands still.” Her face twists into some odd mix of mortified and aroused, but your tongue meets her clit again, and the only sound she can make is something so uncharacteristic, a whine. You continue exactly what you were doing before, though this time you decide to slide a finger into her— the reaction she gave was definitely a pleasant one, her back arching off of the chair, her hands squeezing the seat of it in an attempt to keep them still. Arlecchino reaches the peak quicker this time, and despite your bossy orders, she finds herself melting into you completely, her hips grinding herself onto your tongue as much as she possibly can. It’s completely different to how she was at the beginning, her plan to remain unbothered and stoic foiled.

“Can I— please don’t stop this time.” When there comes no response from you other than a curl of your finger, she moans your name in a useless attempt to get you to answer her. You’re being mean, she thinks, and you’re using everything she does against her. “Answer me. Tell me I can cum.”

How is she still demanding things from you even in this position? She lost all control a long time ago. You find your eyes opening though, and while adding a second finger, your voice softens and you speak, voice full of affection. “Be good and cum for me, then. Now, before I change my mind. Let yourself feel good, yeah?”

Arlecchino doesn’t need to be told twice, because her hips lose whatever rhythm they had when your tongue presses flat against her, letting her choose the pace and the rhythm she knows will get her there quickest (it doesn’t take long, the woman is so sexually pent up it’s laughable). Within a minute, she’s crying out, her hands flying up to her face to cover the obscene expression she knows is there. You pay no attention, only watching every movement with a sense of satisfaction and a smile in your eyes. You keep your finger curling and your tongue still until her body stops rocking, and her hands leave her face. When her face, the one you find so beautiful, emerges from behind her hands, mascara slightly smudged, you can’t help but snicker as you pull out and away from her.

“Better?” You ask, wiping your chin once more with the back of your hand. You somehow look so smug and the look on your face pisses Arlecchino off, just a little. How you’re so calm and collected and she’s a fucked out mess sat in her desk chair.

“Yes,” she says, her voice sharper than she intends it to be really, but she continues in the same tone. “I do hope you don’t think we’re finished, hm?” Your head tilts in slight confusion, but the smile remains on your face. After a while, Arlecchino’s own lips twitch upwards, barely noticeable, but you notice nonetheless. “How could I leave you without feeling good, too? Go to the bedroom, please.”

[olderthannetfic]

My feelings about deleting fic stem from personal experience.

I once wrote a fic that I new was going to have niche appeal, but which ended up upsetting the entire tiny fandom. The fandom was small enough that everyone knew everyone, it was really more of a social circle. These were my friends and I'd written something that made them unhappy. They weren't angry with me or anything, but the general tone was politely disguised squick and a few "oh... uh... I did not expect that for these characters :(" comments.

So I orphaned it.

Ten years later, I deeply regret this descision. My unhappiness about the initial reception has faded and I'm proud of the fic itself, and the people who were disapointed with it at the time have moved on and it doesn't colour their feelings towards me or their perception of my more recent writing.

But I lost that fic from my profile, and I regret this.

I regret orphaning it, I wish I'd just switched it to anon to assuage my feelings at the time, but I'm very glad I orphaned instead of deleting.

In addition to my own experience here, I hear a lot of stories from people who deleted fic and then a decade or two later are angry with themselves beause the fic is now lost forever.

I hear very few stories from people who deleted fic a decade ago and still feel they made the right descision, and those stories are usually from people who were writing spitefic, spam, or other works deliberately created to disrupt the experience of readers. A few are from people who were dealing with a stalker or having massive hate campaigns launched against them, and they consider the fic itself an acceptable casualty of having to completely wipe and remake their online experience. They tend to technically regret having had to delete the fic, but the alternative was unlivable.

Almost no one who deletes fic because it isn't good enough or because they're having a mental breakdown or because they've swapped fandoms or because they got a handful of rude or disapointed comments or to get back at an annoying person who liked it or because they're embarassed of the subject matter is actually happy with their descision down the road. Nearly all of them regret deleting the fic eventually.

If you ever feel like deleting a fic, consider anoning it or putting it in an unrevealed collection until whatever your feeling blows over instead.

--

[azen13]

[Not really sure if this counts as a request but here we go] Who’s your favourite male yandere(s) from genshin? And could you talk about why?

Ah I love this question! Thank you so much for asking. I've been really busy with college lately so I haven't gotten a chance to write recently, but after this week I should be finished with a lot of tests until finals. Just to clear things up, I absolutely accept questions like this! I feel like I haven't really shared a lot about myself as a person so I'm hoping to do more of that in the future.

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CW: Yandere Themes, Spoilers for Wriothesley's Story Quest

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

I'd say I have four yanderes who I really like, and then a few who I like but I'm not obsessed with. Those four being Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, and Zhongli. Beyond the fact that I just like them as characters (and I'm gay asf lol) they're the most interesting yanderes to me, in part because of how much power they have in their societies.

Alhaitham is really interesting to me because there's this personal conflict between his values and beliefs and the idea of falling in an obsessive love. Alhaitham is inherently self-centered, not narcissistically so, but to the point where he prioritizes and values his time alone. In doing so though, he's also extremely lonely. I think a lot on how Alhaitham would react to someone who's able to match his sharpened blade of wit with one of their own, how he might exchange parries and blows with that person and find himself needing to understand the nature of their mind. I also think about how he'd react to someone who struggles with taking care of themself, or overworking: how he'd try to get you to stop doing so much and trying to please everyone. If his lover can keep up with his intelligence, he treats the romance like a game of chess, lining up his pieces to topple over the defenses surrounding your heart. His possession of you is slow and methodical, like vines growing on walls, slowly creeping over every inch. If his lover's wisdom is spent in other areas, then he's quick to snatch them up and take them home. While I think he's quick to get you under his control, it's harder for him to make them fall in love and surrender to his calculating embrace.

Neuvillette brings a really interesting element that I like to think about when I'm writing for him: immortality. He's a dragon who's lived for centuries, and that element of the slow passage of time is really fun to both write and think about. I really like to think of Neuvillette as a really, really soft yandere; he's seen humanity at its worst, and doesn't want you, the beautiful thing you are, to be tainted by all of its ugliness. Besides, he just can't help himself, what with his draconic instincts.

Out of the four, Wriothesley is the character I'd say I have the hardest time writing for because it's harder for me to explain why he feels the way he does. The working justification I have is that being betrayed by his adoptive family and living his whole life in Meropide made him incredibly lonely and developed a lot of abandonment issues that remained unearthed for years, as he didn't really make many close friends in Meropide. Then you come along though, and for once, Wriothesley has something good, something he doesn't want to give up. He's definitely one of the hardest yanderes to escape, what with Meropide being a literal prison. I think he definitely takes extra precautions when it comes to you, though, because he's so scared of losing them. Beneath his gruff exterior, there's a heart of gold, a man who only craves your complete affection and attention.

And then there's Zhongli, who was actually the character who got me into writing Yanderes. The thing about Zhongli is that as a yandere, you're practically powerless, unless you're on a similar or higher level of power/divinity to him. Even if you exceed his power, you're still going to have a very difficult time escaping his control. With how long he's lived and how much he's seen, he knows the only way to guarantee your safety is to isolate you from Teyvat entirely. Zhongli has no qualms about doing this, regardless of how much you might protest. Because when you've lost everything but Zhongli, you'll eventually—and inevitably—crumble into his arms. Only then will Zhongli put you back together, shaping you to be his perfect lover. Zhongli's greatest power as a yandere is his patience.

[wuuuuman]

Hazard x Reader - You little Gommy

first tumblr post!!! need more fics of him omg pls 1.1k words fluff!! sorry scotland if i fucked up ur language - The quiet atmosphere was deafening, a place usually so full of laughter and talking, suddenly turned to the complete opposite. Everyone in the gang had left to steal a high tech weapon from the Oasis. Well, everyone but her. She stared at the ceiling, the bed creaking a little bit as she moved. Her eyes wandered across the whole room, going through every little detail as if she had never been there before. Boredom can really make a person mad huh?  Her eyes looked through the photos they had taken together as a family. Some of them only have certain people and so on. Her eyes lingered on the picture of her and Findlay, well he is better known as Hazard. She slowly got up from the bed, walking towards the counter and staring at the holographic picture. In the picture they both stared at the camera smiling widely as he held it up, she remembered when they took this photo. It took him so long to figure out how to press one button and she couldn’t stop laughing at him. Such a small thing had such a big impact on her memories. She couldn’t help but let a small smile form on her face as she remembered A sudden sharp pain however had that smile wipe away. She let out a loud groan, her hand immediately flying to hold her side. Oh right, she had gotten hurt during action in their last mission. A guard sneaked up to her and landed a very mean punch to her side, bruising the whole side. Yeah the guard had some sort of knuckle braces or something, was a hard hit anyway. She could remember being so scared that her ribs had been busted, or that the braces had gone deep into her skin, good thing it was none of that. Ribs just got bruised a lot, very painful. She cursed to herself as she tried heading back to bed, only for the pain to strike her back two times worse now. She could only stand still, holding her side, even if touching it wasn’t the best idea either. She leaned on the counter, keeping her balance, waiting for the stronger pain to pass. It was at that moment she heard the faint muffled noise of an engine coming closer and closer. It must be the gang! FUCK! They couldn’t see her out of the bed, she tried to walk forward, pushing through the pain. The quick movements made everything worse, one bad move caused her to twist in a bad way and she fell down onto her knees, fighting against her angry tears. She felt so fucking useless like this. She heard the heavy door to their hideout open, bringing with it loud laughter and quick chatter. One of the voices really stood out to her, Hazard. “We really tore tha' place down ay?!” He laughed, his heavy Scottish accent so intoxicating to her. “You really scared us there for a moment champ.” BoomSlang said, shaking her head as if disappointed even though a smile rested on her face. “Ah! You woulda’ done the same if you were in my place.” He chuckled, giving her back a few pats before walking past all of them. “‘Right. I'm gonna head to bed, don’t do ‘nothin stupid without me!” He waved his hand before disappearing down the hall Hazard walked further from the laughter and chatter of his friends, his steps confident and full of energy. His mind was racing, thinking about everything that happened today. One thing he knows for sure though is that he feels fucking awesome and that he cannot wait to embrace his little darling.

He neared his room and as he finally stopped in front of the door he listened for a moment. Considering there was light coming from the small crack below the door and if she was doing something, but he couldn’t hear anything, perhaps she was still sleeping and recovering. He smiled to himself, opening the door slowly. He was not expecting to see her on the floor on her knees holding her side, trying to lift herself up. “Whadda’ ya doin bonny??!” He said a bit urgently, rushing to her side. “I’m sorry Lay’... I just don't know. I was looking at the pictures, completely forgetting my predicament.” She sighed, looking up at him. “You little gommy. Let’s get ya back to bad ‘right?” He said softly, carefully maneuvering his cybernetic arms to not hurt her. “Thank you..” She mumbled, accepting his gentle help. Once he had her safely tucked under the covers he sat down on the side of the bed, the mattress sinking a bit under her weight. He turned his head over his shoulder, staring at her. She stared back, captivated by his pretty eyes, her cheeks burning up a bit. He chuckled, turning himself around a bit more, so that his whole upper body was now in her line of sight. “Aye.. ya know you can always ask for help right?” He smiled at her, using his left hand to caress her cheek lovingly. “Just don’t wanna be a bother to you…” She mumbled, leaning her head into his palm. “You could neva’ bother me ya numpty. I love you after all don’t i?” He chuckled. She blushed at his words, she had been together with him long enough to figure out some of the slang he used when referring to her or other people. Right now he called her a lovable moron, some people could get offended but they loved lovingly insulting each other, just part of their love language really.

“Alright, you get some sleep yeah? Otherwise yer gonna miss that beauty sleep of yous.” Hazard said, about to get up from the bed to give her some alone time, only to be stopped by a hand quickly latching onto his wrist. She winched a little bit at the sudden movement again, but nothing was going to stop her from speaking her mind. “Wait, please. Could you.. stay with me hun..? I just.. I don't wanna sleep alone, and I need your company..” She asked quietly.

“You know I could neva’ say no to you.” He slowly and carefully climbed into the bed, thankful he had switched out his gun for his other cybernetic arm so that it would be less uncomfortable for her to sleep on. She smiled at him, and snuggled up beside him, his body a walking furnace, she felt so safe and warm beside him. He stared down at her, running his fingers through her hair to soothe her nerves. She looked up at him and motioned for him to lean down a bit which he did. Her lips slowly landed on his, giving him a long kiss goodnight. “Sleep well lassie.” “You too dummy.” - I TRIED!!! Please hazard lovers request stories so i stay motivated

[msilwrites]

Papa Bear Material - (Captain Price Fic) - Matchmaking Chapter 1 (Shorter Version)  Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

A/N: I hope you guys can be patient with me as I set up the scene and context for the story! I know you might be eager for Papa Bear John, so if you can't wait, feel free to scroll all the way down or check out the short version. But if you’d like to enjoy the full background and get all the details leading up to the moment, stick around here for the original version. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy! Warning: Mention of child abuse in the story. Summary: Y/N is a reserved former constable and master sniper in the London police force, now working full-time as an artisan. She reconnects with old colleagues at a grill house for a catch-up, where her former junior, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, tries to play matchmaker. Gaz’s attempt to set her up with the retired SAS and Papa Bear material, Captain John Price, is met with resistance as Y/N is caught off guard by the unexpected attention.

Y/N stepped into the familiar warmth of the grill house, the smoky aroma of sizzling meat mingling with the distinct hum of rugby commentary from the TV above the bar. The place had that well-worn, comfortable charm—like an old friend. She spotted her old colleagues almost immediately, seated around a table, beers in hand, laughter spilling into the air.

“Oi! Look who’s gracing us with her posh, artsy presence!” came the teasing voice of one of the officers. “You still wearing them fancy shoes, Y/N?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, a half-smile playing on her lips as she made her way over. "Oh, please. I’d have to sell a few more prototypes just to afford these," she said, giving her Gucci Princeton Leather slip-ons a quick glance. "You know, designing and crafting, prototypes for others, specially demanding architects and students—it's harder than catching a criminal on a Sunday shift."

The group laughed, and one of them raised their glass. “Come on, that’s not true. Bet you’re all over the art scene now, living the dream!”

“Sure,” she said, narrowing her eyes as she slid into her seat, “if by ‘living the dream’ you mean sometimes starving in a studio, getting rejected by every gallery in town, and designing things no one’s ever heard of, yeah, it’s just like the movies.”

They all burst out laughing again. One of the lads signaled to the waiter, who was making his rounds. "Oi, get her a proper drink," he said with a grin, "she looks like she needs it."

A tap of beer was quickly placed in front of her, and she gave her colleagues a mock glare, but couldn't help but smile. "You lot are too kind. Just wait ‘til you see my next masterpiece—a painting of you lot after too many pints."

As the laughter faded, they began catching up, each group diving into stories and teasing. "Any funny incidents lately?" one of the officers asked, a grin spreading across his face.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Oh, plenty. You lot wouldn't believe half of them, but I'm still waiting for the call-up for my big art show... not holding my breath, though."

The conversation shifted, and soon enough, someone asked, “When’s your next reservist shift, then? You’re still doing that, right?”

Y/N leaned back in her chair, taking a moment before answering. "Ah, next month. Got my refresher course first, so I'll see you lot after that." She picked up her glass, the cool beer sliding down her throat as she sighed contentedly.

It had been a long day—too long. But, she was glad to be here, catching up with these old faces, the familiar rhythm of their banter and laughter settling into her. The worries of her day faded, replaced with the warmth of good company and the taste of a well-earned pint.

The table buzzed with laughter and the clink of silverware as everyone dug into their meal. Y/N, content with a bite of lamb chop, was about to take another when Kyle’s voice broke through.

“So, Y/N,” he said with a mischievous grin, leaning forward, “how long’s it been since you’ve been single?”

Y/N paused, looking at him like he’d just asked if she wanted to run a marathon. She narrowed her eyes, the chop still in her hand. “You’re not about to start playing matchmaker, are you, Gaz?”

Kyle shrugged nonchalantly, completely unbothered. “Well, you know... I might have a perfect guy in mind. Could introduce you next time.”

The table erupted into teasing shouts, and a few of the women at the table nudged her playfully. “Ooh, a ‘perfect guy,’ eh?” one of them said with a sly smile. “Sounds like someone’s trying to get you out there, Y/N!”

“Yeah, yeah,” another girl chimed in, grinning. “You can’t stay single forever, love. You need to live a little!”

Y/N laughed, raising her glass of beer to her lips. “I’ve been living plenty, thank you very much,” she said, taking a sip. “I’ve been single since I was 22. Too much going on in my life. Can barely keep up with myself, let alone anyone else.”

One of the guys leaned in, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Come on, Y/N. You can’t just keep dodging the love life thing forever. You’ve gotta try at least once. Who knows? Maybe this ‘perfect guy’ will be just what you need.”

“Or,” another woman piped up, waggling her eyebrows, “he’ll just be an excuse for a nice date night and some free food. Win-win.”

Y/N put a hand on her chest, feigning shock. “Oh, I see how it is. You lot just want me to get free dinner at someone else’s expense!”

Kyle laughed, raising his beer. “Well, if you don’t like him, I’ll pay for the meal myself. But I’m tellin’ ya, he’s worth a shot.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her tone dry. “Tell you what—if I get to choose the place, I’ll consider it. But no more ‘perfect guy’ nonsense, alright?”

Her colleagues cheered, raising their own glasses. “To Y/N’s perfect guy!” someone shouted, and the table erupted into more laughter.

Y/N just rolled her eyes, taking another bite of her lamb chop. “Alright, alright. You lot are relentless.”

As the teasing continued, Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly curious. “Alright then, who’s this ‘perfect guy’ Gaz has in mind? One of your mates?”

Kyle leaned back, clearly proud of his matchmaking skills. “Yeah, mate. His name’s Price. Former SAS, top bloke—don’t let the gruff exterior fool you. He’s solid. Got a good head on his shoulders.”

The table went silent for a moment. Some of the guys and girls exchanged glances, clearly impressed by the mention of SAS.

“Ooh, SAS, huh?” one of the women said, grinning. “That’s like, the real deal, right? Tough, mysterious, probably has a six-pack or maybe even eight! Hidden under all that tactical gear.”

“Oh yeah, totally,” another guy added, practically waggling his eyebrows. “Rugged, muscular, probably a bit brooding. Can already see the whole ‘I’ve been through the worst’ vibe.”

“Sounds like someone’s got a lot of mystery about him,” one of the other women teased, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “Could be just the thing you need, Y/N. A real adventure.”

Kyle, clearly delighted by the reactions, went on, “Yeah, you’ll like him. He’s been through the ringer, mate. The kind of bloke you don’t wanna mess with. Tough as nails.”

The group went on, each person adding their own humorous speculation about Price’s rugged, mysterious persona—tough military training, intense eyes, dangerous aura. The teasing was infectious, and everyone was in on it now, laughing and playfully suggesting how wild or sexy Price must be.

But Y/N’s expression had already shifted. Her hand, still holding the lamb chop, froze mid-air, and she stared into the distance, her eyes darkening as she took in what Kyle had said. The laughter around her faded into the background, her own thoughts taking over.

One of the guys, noticing the shift, raised an eyebrow. “You okay, Y/N?” he asked, clearly sensing the change in her mood.

Y/N blinked, breaking out of her thoughts. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Yeah, fine,” she said quietly, but her tone was noticeably subdued.

Kyle, still excited, didn’t notice. “I’m telling you, mate, he’s a proper top guy. You’ll get along fine with him, I’m sure of it.”

But Y/N’s eyes had taken on a more somber look. “Yeah, maybe,” she muttered, her voice much softer than before. “Look, I’m not saying all military guys are the same, but…” She paused, her hand tightening around her beer glass. “My father was ex-military. Bit of a bastard, to be honest. Mentally and verbally abusive. So, I’ve... never really been into that kind of thing, if I’m honest.”

The teasing stopped abruptly. The table grew quieter as her words sank in. Kyle, finally sensing the shift, looked at her with a soft expression. “I didn’t mean to bring up anything heavy, Y/N. Just thought I was being helpful…”

Y/N gave a small, weary smile, waving it off. “It’s alright, Gaz. You didn’t know.”

One of the women, noticing her mood, reached out and gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Hey, you don’t have to meet him, Y/N. No pressure.”

Y/N nodded, the smile returning just a little, though it was faint. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’s a great guy. Just not sure I’m ready for... anything like that right now.”

The table grew quieter as the conversation shifted away from matchmaking and towards other, lighter topics. Laughter bubbled up again, but Y/N’s mind wandered back, the memories creeping in despite the cheerful chatter around her.

Her father… It didn’t take much to bring his image to the forefront of her mind. The memories of him were sharp and unpleasant, lingering like an unshakable shadow. He’d been in the military for years before moving into MI5 when she was a child. After he retired, though, he never really left the mindset behind.

She could still hear his voice in her head, cutting through the air, as if he was right there. The constant little digs—his sharp tone when he'd see her, trying to maintain that military discipline, as if he could control every aspect of her life. Every time he looked at her, it felt like he was seeing an enemy, like she was still just a soldier under his command.

He’d belittle her. Criticize everything, from her clothes to how she held herself, as though she were an extension of his authority. It wasn’t just the verbal abuse, though. There were moments where the anger would spill over. He’d hit her, sometimes, not out of frustration but out of a need to keep her “in line.” If she argued or disagreed with him, there were times he’d drag her out of the house, leave her stranded in the middle of nowhere just to teach her a “lesson,” and then come back hours later, violently pulling her into the car as though nothing had happened.

Y/N shook her head, pushing the dark thoughts back. She’d spent so long trying to bury them, trying to focus on anything else that didn’t make her feel like a child again, helpless under his control.

It wasn’t until that one night when she was 19—kicked out of the house, no place to go, just a bag and nothing but cold streets—that she decided enough was enough. She didn’t have the luxury of time or an easy choice. She’d had nowhere to go but a friend’s couch for a few nights, and that’s when she made the decision: she would join the police force. She needed the money, the stability, and more than anything, the chance to break free from the past.

The police program offered her a way out, an escape, a way to stand on her own two feet and start building something for herself. At the time, it also came with education, which was a huge draw. She could pay for her tuition while working, get the training she needed to eventually leave all that behind. She’d never intended to stay long in the force, but it turned out to be the best decision she could have made, even though it came with its own set of challenges.

Her eyes flickered back to the table, the laughter still ringing around her, but now muffled, distant. She had come a long way since those dark days, but sometimes—like now—the weight of it all crept back in.

It was easy for her to laugh along with the others, easy to let the jokes flow. But sometimes, when the noise died down, she could still feel the sting of her past, just beneath the surface.

Her thoughts snapped back to the present as someone nudged her elbow. “Oi, you alright, Y/N? You went all quiet there,” one of her friends said, concern lacing their voice.

Y/N blinked, shaking herself free of the memories. She smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah,” she replied, taking another swig of her beer. “Just a long day, that’s all. Don’t mind me.”

They didn’t press further, thankfully, but she could feel their eyes on her for a moment before the conversation shifted again.

The laughter from the table faded as everyone began to gather their things, slipping out one by one into the cool night air. Y/N lingered for a moment, the clink of glasses and murmurs of her friends still echoing in her ears, but it felt distant now—like a tune she was no longer part of. As she stepped outside, the damp pavement underfoot caught the glow of the streetlights, each step sharp and purposeful. She let out a long breath, the chill of the evening sinking into her skin. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d needed this—quiet, space to herself, far away from the constant chatter and noise that seemed to follow her every move.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, snapping her from her thoughts. She glanced down at the screen. An unknown number. Normally, she wouldn’t even bother answering, but something told her to check it.

She unlocked the screen and swiped open the message.

"Hi, Y/N. John Price here. Gaz gave me your number. We should grab a drink sometime. Maybe chat about a few things. Cheers."

Y/N stopped dead in her tracks, eyes narrowing. Her thumb hovered over the screen as her mind scrambled for a reaction. John Price. The John Price? The former SAS legend, now retired, and apparently still involved in some highly classified business? What the hell was Gaz thinking?

"What the fuck, Gaz!!!" Y/N hissed under her breath, staring at the message with disbelief. Her gaze snapped up and scanned the street. She could see her friends walking ahead, far down the street now, their backs turned. Gaz, that bloody menace, had passed her number along without a second thought.

She stormed a few paces ahead, but her steps were more frustrated now. Her mind raced as she considered her options. She didn’t want any part of whatever ‘chat’ Price had in mind. She wasn’t a fool—she knew how these things worked. She could already picture the smug look on Gaz’s face when he thought he was doing her a favour, setting her up with some ‘good guy’ from his circle of military buddies. But military men… well, she had enough of that in her life already.

Y/N scrolled through her contacts, her fingers moving like clockwork. She was about to fire off a quick response to tell Price to kindly go to hell when she caught sight of her reflection in a shop window. Her face looked tired, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up to her. She could feel the cold seeping through her coat, and for a moment, it was like the weight of everything—the years of trying to make it on her own, the trauma, the nightmares—settled right back on her shoulders.

She quickly closed her phone and shoved it back into her pocket. A drink with John Price? Yeah, that was definitely not going to happen. But Gaz? He was going to hear about this. She didn’t care if he was busy with some top-secret ops or whatnot—this was a step too far.

"Next round’s on you, Gaz," she muttered to herself as she walked toward the corner, feeling the familiar mix of annoyance and amusement begin to churn in her stomach. ----------

Y/N's eyes fluttered open to the soft light of the morning, spilling through the gap in her curtains. The events of last night—Gaz's matchmaking attempt and the unexpected message from John Price—already felt like distant memories, lost in the haze of sleep. She groaned and stretched, her arms reaching out before she swung them over the side of the bed and planted her feet onto the cool wooden floor.

She was hungry. More than that, she was starving.

With a deep sigh, she pushed herself to her feet, feeling the weight of yesterday’s long hours still in her bones. Her body moved on autopilot as she made her way to the kitchen. The smell of fresh coffee hit her senses before she even flicked on the kettle. The day ahead was full—pottery to finish, pieces to deliver, and the usual grind of meeting deadlines for design projects. But the pottery was the steady foundation. It brought in consistent income each month, even if it required hours of backbreaking work.

The market was always a good outlet for her—hands-on, personal, where customers could appreciate the craftsmanship and effort she poured into each item. She enjoyed the physicality of it, the quiet satisfaction of shaping clay into something functional and beautiful. She had a reputation for it, too—well-known in the area for her distinctive, handmade pottery, with a smooth, glossy finish that always caught the light just right.

After a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon, she shuffled into her workshop. There was something grounding about the familiar rhythm of her craft. The kiln had cooled overnight, and her latest batch of pottery—plates, mugs, vases, and a few statement pieces—was ready for inspection. Y/N carefully removed the items, one by one, from the kiln. The glaze had set perfectly, giving each piece a rich, lustrous shine. She ran her fingers over the smooth surfaces, admiring the precision of her work. Her hands were still stained with the evidence of yesterday’s labor, but it didn’t bother her. It was part of the process.

As she carefully packed the finished pieces into protective wrapping for transport, she nodded in approval. She may have put the hours in, but the result was always worth it. The market would love these.

Later, Y/N stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, examining her reflection with a critical eye. She’d always believed that people treated you better when you looked your best—when you seemed approachable and friendly. And since she was about to step into the public eye again, it was important to put a little effort in. She applied her makeup with precision, the soft strokes highlighting her features, then slipped on a small pair of gold-plated silver earrings that added a touch of chic to her look.

She was wearing a loose white linen shirt with long sleeves, its cuffs casually rolled up. The shirt was light and breathable, perfect for a day of carrying boxes and setting up her stall. Over it, she tied her craftsman apron—dark, worn from years of use, but still functional, with enough pockets to hold all the tools she needed.

Her wide-legged chinos reached just to her ankles, the fit comfortable and practical, paired with her slip-on loafers—a soft, leather pair she’d had for years. It was casual yet still put-together, an outfit that made her feel at ease while still ready for whatever the day might throw at her.

She practiced her smile in the mirror—a grin that wasn’t too forced or strained, but warm and inviting. Some days, it felt like a performance. But she’d learned long ago that a good smile could sell a piece of pottery. And that was what she needed today: to sell, to engage, to make her art speak for her.

With a deep breath, she adjusted her apron, straightened her shoulders, and gave the mirror one final smile before grabbing the first box of finished work.

She had a day of selling ahead. And though sometimes the world felt heavy, she was ready to face it head-on. Her pottery, her designs—they were the bright spots in her life, the reasons she’d fought so hard to keep going, to stay grounded.

With another steadying breath, she stepped out into the cool morning air, the day ahead waiting for her.

-----------

Once Y/N had finished unpacking and arranging her wares at her stall, she took a moment to step back and admire the display. The pieces were neatly arranged—vases catching the light, mugs stacked just right, and her signature pottery glistening with its smooth, glossy finish. She felt a small sense of pride bubble up, but it was quickly tempered by the hustle of the market around her. There was no time to linger; there were customers to engage, products to sell, and a whole day ahead.

Grabbing her phone, she tapped into the group chat with her friends, which, of course, included Gaz. A small smile tugged at her lips as she typed out a quick message:

“Hey guys, I’m set up at the market today—stall 30 if you’re in the area and fancy dropping by. Would be good to catch up if you have the time! 😎”

She added a few relevant emojis, then hit send, tucking her phone back into her apron pocket with a sigh. If they could make it, great. If not, no big deal. It would be nice to see a familiar face, but she’d already grown accustomed to the solitude of her work.

As she glanced up from her phone, she was met with the hustle and bustle of market-goers milling around her stall. Some stopped to admire the pottery, others just passed by, lost in their own little world. Either way, it was all part of the game. She adjusted a few pieces that had shifted during the unpacking and waited for her first customer of the day. -------------

Y/N was arranging the last of her pieces when a tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped up to her stall. She glanced up, quickly taking in his dark blue shirt, trim hair, and the kind of build that made him look like he could carry a truck on his back if he wanted to. The guy looked like Papa Bear material—muscular, solid, and with a presence that seemed to fill the space around him.

He stood still for a moment, his eyes scanning over the pottery on display, then back at her. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly attractive he was. He had the kind of look that made heads turn, even if he didn’t seem to be trying. She could feel a little flutter of nerves creeping in, but she pushed it away, focusing on the pieces in front of her.

"Hi there," she said, forcing a smile as she adjusted a mug on the table.

"Hey," the man replied, his voice deep and steady. "You’ve got some brilliant work here."

Y/N nodded, her hands still busy with arranging. "Thanks. I’ve been at it for years, trying to get the perfect finish."

There was a pause as he looked at her again, this time with a more direct gaze. “You’ve definitely nailed it. Everything looks... well, perfect.”

Y/N felt a little warmth in her cheeks. What’s with this guy? she thought, still unsure of why she was feeling so off-kilter. He didn’t strike her as the type who would be interested in pottery, let alone strike up a conversation about it.

Then, with a small smile, he stepped forward and said, “I’m John, by the way. Gaz sent me.”

Y/N blinked, her heart skipping a beat at the mention of Gaz’s name. Gaz? The first thought that shot through her head was, No, no, not this again. Her stomach turned as she realized that Gaz hadn't given up on matchmaking her with this Papa Bear of a man. Gaz!! You matchmaking bastard, why'd you do this to me!!

She tried to shake off the feeling. "Gaz, huh? Of course. I should’ve known."

John’s smile softened. “Yeah, he said I should come over and introduce myself. Said you’re someone I should meet.”

Y/N gave him a wry grin, glancing at the ground for a moment. "That sounds like something Gaz would say." She forced a casual tone, but inside, she was already second-guessing everything.

There was a brief, knowing pause between them before John continued, his voice a bit quieter but warm. "I’ve seen the pictures Gaz sent me... you’ve definitely exceeded that. And you look even better in person."

Her heart pounded, and she could feel her pulse picking up, but she didn’t want to let him see how much his words affected her. Gaz... you absolute idiot.

John continued, stepping a bit closer. "I don’t usually do this, but I’d love to take you out sometime. Dinner, drinks... whatever you fancy."

Y/N felt a flush creeping up her neck. This was it, wasn't it? Gaz and his matchmaking nonsense had really gone this far... She looked up at him, her expression softer now, but still holding a hint of surprise. This guy wasn’t just tall and fit; he was exactly the kind of person Gaz would go on about.

“Look, I am a little busy right now... uhhmmm,” she said, but there was a small, teasing smile playing at her lips.

John smiled, his eyes twinkling with something playful. “Take your time. I’m patient.”

Y/N sighed inwardly. Gaz hadn't given up on this... She couldn’t help but feel the pressure of it all, even as she admired John's presence. Big guy, military background, and that soft, paternal charm. She’d met her fair share of tough guys, but there was something different about John Price. The way he carried himself—genuine, steady, and disarmingly kind—was impossible to ignore. A/N: I do hope you enjoyed that one! I’ll be writing another chapter when inspiration strikes, or feel free to drop any suggestions you might have! On to the NEXT CHAPTER ----->

[mrs-kodzuken]

hard to desire ⨟ kenma k.

chapter eight

bj lips love potions ft princess paparazzi

❝Undress me, caress me

I just want you to fuck me

My love can't take it no more

Gotta cast it on you❞

previous chapter next chapter

Knowing that Kenma left you and didn't even send so much as a text message made you feel a bit queasy in your stomach. You both spent the entire night together, even with a few good days leading up to it, and yet he still went ghost.

To you, it made no sense whatsoever. From the beginning, you both started off on the wrong foot, and now, when you finally felt that everything was getting better, he goes off the grid.

There was a permanent frown on your face and a hurtful feeling in your chest when you came back to the shared apartment that day.

After checking on a few of your neighbors in the apartment complex and verifying that staying in them was safe now, you finally went in.

That stupid gas leak caused a really good night between you and Kenma, and you couldn't help but to let yourself smile as you reminisced about the few hours before.

However, inside the apartment was strange because there was no sound at all. With Kuroo gone with his friends and Kenma nowhere to be found, it felt eerie.

Turning on the living room TV for background noise, a couple lamps as well, and starting on baking a recipe that Kenma had shared with you, you finally felt better about being in here by yourself.

You never really enjoyed the silence, ever; it always seemed deafening and always made you feel a bit anxious and panicky.

When the kitchen timer declared the homemade sweet bread from Kenma's recipe was done, you tried it and wanted to meet the woman herself because it was beyond delicious.

You sighed, stopping your chewing. Being alone was fine, but you hated being alone with no one there to talk to or annoy either. You would've thought that being an only child would have prepared you to not feel this way and learn how to be by yourself, but it never worked.

Deciding to rot on the couch for a little, you grabbed your blankets and pillows with a good show put on, and little did you know, you were slowly drifting off to sleep.

You awoke after a few hours passed by; the TV was long off, having shut down by itself after so much time of inactivity. You felt hot—unbearably hot; the blankets you were cuddled up with earlier had damn near suffocated you.

The cool wetness of your clothes stuck to your legs and lower back.

Oh, how you hated waking up like this after a nap; it was frustrating and left you feeling woozy.

Getting up on wobbly legs, you made it to the kitchen to gulp down a large glass of water, and that's when you noticed the time. 6:00pm shined brightly on the oven timer; sleeping for the whole day wasn't something you expected for today, but it happened.

You eventually found your phone, ignoring every message that wasn't from Kenma or your parents. You groaned, throwing yourself back onto the couch, pushing the blankets down to the other side with your feet.

A dull sleep headache causing you pain, adding onto the fact that Kenma hadn't even sent you one measly text, had made it worse altogether.

Quite frankly, you missed him; you missed him a lot. You swallowed hard, not wanting to dwell too much on those particular feelings because you could tell with the way that your heart started to dully give off throbbing pains.

Deciding to distract yourself by cleaning was always a good choice to help you; it's always helped your mind because you were physically doing tasks.

After cleaning the living room again because of your mess, the kitchen, laundry, and bathroom were all done. However, you got curious yet again about Kenma's room and took your gloves off to push his bedroom door open.

It looks just like how it was last, but with him not home, you could actually look through his room and not feel his beady eyes on you watching your every move.

You got excited; the thrill of snooping through the bedroom of a guy you liked was a bit stirring. You've liked his room from the first time you went in, of course, and even the time before that.

You tip-toed in, having a feeling you might get caught if you don't hear the front door open. You look around, your heart basically in your throat. You loved the feeling of the thrill this gave you.

You first went to Kenma's bedside table; on the top there was a stray hairband, a hairbrush, and tissues, as well as a half-full glass of water. You raised a brow; that was seemingly normal enough; you cheekily smiled mischievously and opened the drawer.

You gasped when you saw a pack of condoms in his bedside drawer.

You hadn't expected Kenma to have those because you figured he didn't have a girlfriend. Your face heated up when you touched the box to move it and look at the other stuff in there. You saw some vitamins, daily supplements, and a few personal items of paper that you weren't going to touch.

Your eyes drifted back to his pack of condoms. Does he have one-night stands or something? The thoughts were endless, but you had to remind yourself that he wasn't your boyfriend, so whatever he did with those condoms was his choice.

With a sharp inhale, you exited his room, making sure you left everything just the way it was before you came in here.

Heading to your room, you decided to read for a little to pass the time. He would have to eventually come home, right? You would wait for him, wanting to confess your feelings; the more you waited, the more the anxiousness bubbled in your stomach.

Thinking about Kenma was easier than trying to anticipate when he would be home.

However, the more you thought about Kenma, the way his warm, larger frame felt against yours last night, and his eyes... oh, how his eyes became glaringly sharp when he’s pissed.

All of that causes the predicament you’re in now, with your hands between your legs, eyes tightened shut, and covers pushed to the end of the bed.

Your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans to no one’s ears in particular; you were home alone after all.

Your heat was throbbing, desperate for more than just the showerhead, more than the pleasure that you can get from your short fingers.

Being cursed with stubby fingers had caused a predicament that you could never reach that good spot inside of yourself, and so you resulted in finishing by playing with your clit.

You never thought that you’d actually be masturbating to the thought of Kenma, then again, you remembered that he did the same way before you both had developed this tension between you. You’d give anything to grind against him, to tease him for the way he’s treated you before.

You were losing it, back arching off your bed; your fingers worked diligently to help you aid in reaching for that orgasm you needed badly.

Kenma, coincidentally, was on his way home at 8:00 p.m. on the dot. After thinking about whether he would ignore this heightened feeling inside of him till he either A) moved out or B) graduated, he knew that he couldn't do that.

Safe to say that Kenma fell for you, and of course he already knew that deep inside but would never, ever admit it for something so dumb and petty that it physically made him cringe at himself.

Hoping to help aid in his apology, he bought you an iced seasonal coffee and a little sweet treat to help you not be in any negative mood towards him.

It was like he felt guilty all over again, thinking back to when he scared the daylights out of you and caused you a horrible nightmare. Only this time, he basically stood you up for an entire day because he wasn't certain about the feelings his heart was telling him, only due to the fact that they clashed with his mind.

Taking a deep breath and preparing for the night, Kenma unlocked the apartment door with his key. However, he was not expecting to hear loud, high-pitched moaning noises coming from your bedroom upstairs.

Kenma froze, the worst-case scenario coming to mind, which was that you were having an intimate moment with another person because you decided that he was waiting too long.

However, the more he waited to hear something to give off any details, there were no beds creaking or slamming against the wall, and there were no other moans/groans besides yours.

He was about to step out and send you a text that he was on his way because maybe that would dull the pink in his face, or maybe it would give him enough time to have his dick go down if he stood outside in the cold.

Before he could even open his phone, he heard a soft meowl of his name from upstairs, from your bedroom upstairs.

The mixture of chills and need rushed down his spine as he set everything down on the living room coffee table. Slowly making his way upstairs, you were unbelievable loud, yet he couldn't stop the feeling of wanting to hear more, wanting to see, wanting to feel.

Kenma tried to be as quiet as possible, the ache in his lower half becoming more of a nuisance by the second. His eyes almost bulged out of his head when he realized your door was halfway opened; no wonder he heard you so clearly.

Every light was off upstairs, with the exception of your pink lamp and TV that was playing a random show. It cast a beautiful glow on your skin as Kenma peeked around the corner of your doorframe; he hoped to God that you couldn't see the way he was being a pervert for you.

His eyes glowed with a need to please you; he watched carefully as your fingers were vigorously working hard to give you pleasure. His brows furrowed when he realized you weren't touching your hole at all.

That in itself made him curious; of course your fingers were wet; they even looked sticky, and Kenma wondered what your slick tasted like.

Kenma couldn't help but stare at you; he's never seen you naked before, and God, you looked fuckable, not to mention alluring with the way your body hypnotized him.

He stalked the way your body moved with every twirl of your fingers around your clit; your eyes were shut tightly, your other hand underneath your shirt, toying with your nipple.

It was an erotic sight, and Kenma could tell from the shallow thrust of his hips against his hand that he was bound to come soon. It was something so little, but watching someone like you in all your glory, he couldn't help himself.

He watched the slight ray of tears that were in your lash line; he wondered how long you've been at this and how long you've been without it. He knew with the way you started thrashing and your hips started to buck that you were going to come soon.

The moans you let out were so angelic, he wanted to break them so badly. With a few more thrusts and hearing his name on your lips once more, Kenma came inside of his pants.

After taking a few moments to catch his breath and collect himself, as well as getting one last peek of you, you looked so precious and worked yourself so hard because of him, and if he just owned up to his feelings, he could've done that for you.

Silently, going back downstairs because it would make too much noise to go into his room and change out of his pants and underwear for clean ones. Kenma decided to pretend he just got home and didn't just come to the sight of you toying with yourself.

With a few loud movements of his keys and the door shutting rather loud, he figured that was enough since your door was open after all.

Kenma tried to make himself seem normal enough, getting a drink out of the fridge and switching the living TV to something more so he would watch. However, ignoring the spurts of cum that were in his pants was a bit hard, as it felt uncomfortable after so long.

After a few more moments, you came downstairs, calling for him, and his body responded delightfully to your voice.

"Kenma? Are you home?" You called, coming down the steps. When you heard the front door shut, you rushed to get up and close your bedroom door and fix yourself as quick as possible.

"Yeah, I'm home." He paused, getting up from the couch.

"I got you a coffee and a muffin." He said, sounding apologetic, and you could only guess that he was apologizing for the ghosting shenanigans of today.

"Thanks, Ken... Where were you, by the way? I haven't seen or heard from you since I left this morning for breakfast. And then you just leave, shoulder-check me, and don't even say sorry." You asked confused, not liking this wishy-washy he was treating you with.

It hurt and made you confused in your own feelings, especially after masturbating to him.

Kenma's eyes glazed over as he was thinking of what to tell you.

“I'm...sorry, Y/n. I didn't know that I bumped into you, and for leaving without saying anything, as well as worrying you." Kenma sighed, not really sure what to say without saying that he likes you a lot.

You felt skeptical about his words, but there would probably be more later; after all, it was just the two of you here.

"It's all fine. I know you probably have things going on, and so I won't pester about it. I'm glad you're back though, I  misunderstood. Your eyes widened when you realized what you were about to tell Kenma—you've never told him that you've missed him before.

Luckily, your stomach grumbled, and that's when you realized that you haven't eaten since the hotel's breakfast this morning.

Kenma cracked a smile, which made your eyes light up at the sight. "Let's order in, okay? How does Mexican sound?" He asked with a smile, making your heart skip a beat.

You nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good." You were grateful for Kenma, not realizing that he always thinks about you. Whether you have eaten or need to eat, your needs when you get scared, and even letting you use him as a safe place when you're feeling that way.

As he ordered for the both of you, you started to feel guilty because he was being so sweet, and you were just upstairs masturbating to him. God, you really were the worst, you thought.

"Can you answer the door? I'm going to go change really quick." Kenma asked of you, a slightly disgusted facial expression showing. You furrowed your brows but nodded anyways. It was no hassle for you.

When the food got to the apartment, you both decided on a movie that wasn't scary nor a child's movie per his request and to which you rolled your eyes.

Settling on a romantic comedy, it was interesting as you both ate the food he ordered. Sitting side by side on the couch with the food on the coffee table, you both were close, and even then, you wanted to be closer to him.

Watching a romantic movie with Kenma left your mind open to roam about confessing to him; you wanted to desperately but was afraid of how it could backfire. Then you got into your head about whether Kenma really even liked you.

You didn't even realize it, but the credits started to roll, declaring the end of the movie, and you finally got the courage.

"Um, I like you!" You blurted out, turning towards Kenma, cheeks-tinged pink, and food left untouched because you were so distracted by your mind.

Kenma took a sharp intake of air and eyed your face. "Are you sure that's not lust?" He raised a brow, and you frowned at him, hearing your confession go unnoticed and deemed as lust.

"No, I like you, Kenma, like romantically and maybe sexually too, but I like you, alright?" You felt frazzled, trying to clarify that you had a bit more than a crush on him and then some.

Kenma's eyes widened like he didn't expect you to flat out tell him that either, "But I was mean to you when we first met, Y/n. Don't tell me you're into that." He trailed off, veering away from you for the effect.

You gasped, the blush coming back from embarrassment. "Kenma, no! My God, if anything, you're the one who's into that. I mean, if you requite my feelings, that is." You asked shyly, not wanting to assume but also wanting to desperately know.

"I do'requite' them; fancy word you got there." He chuckled at you; it made you smile. Knowing that Kenma actually likes you back was exhilarating for everything you both have been through together.

"Wait, so why did you hate me when we first met? I was so nice to you." You questioned, feeling more comfortable with asking him these questions, leaning in more.

He seemed to keep his calm though when you started questioning the reason behind his actions, "Because you're cute, sweet, and girly. I didn't realize I liked that, and you bustlingly about everywhere and adding your touches in the apartment made it feel more like yours too and not just Kuroo and I's. It was hard, I guess." He thought about it more, not realizing that you almost short circuited when he called you cute.

"That... makes more sense now. I was trying to be so nice, and then you were just mean to me. Then I got fed up and started being rude as hell; I hated that." You laughed trailing off, thinking back to when you had that mutual feud going on between you both.

"Yeah, I actually wished I hadn't been like that towards you. I really just wanted to get closer to you but didn't know how and decided to unintentionally belittle you." He grimaced at his own actions, hating the way he treated you.

However, it was refreshing to see this side of Kenma; you loved how open he could be when he wanted to be.

The night trailed on with the both of you confessing the small and big moments throughout the weeks from when you moved in. You found out about how your big nightmare was single-handedly caused by Kenma, except the rainstorm bit.

You listened intently when you realized he was confessing to causing you hurt; you felt like your heart was bursting at the seams because of him. It felt nice inside to finally be able to talk with Kenma about the mishaps between you both and forgive one another.

Yawning, tears pricked your eyes as you covered your mouth. You tried to find a clock to check the time, but your phone must've fallen into the couch.

"It's practically two in the morning. I didn't mean to keep you up so late; you should go sleep, Y/n." Kenma, yet again, was looking out for you, but you never minded though.

"I think I should; I'll help clean up though. I forgot this is your usual, staying up so late, I mean." You mentioned gathering the empty dinner plates and putting them in the dishwasher.

"Mostly yeah, but I'm tired tonight because I barely got any sleep last night." He recalled, scratching underneath his ponytail of his head.

"Oh, right, I forgot about that. I'm sorry," You apologized yet again after you found out you were the reason Kenma had zero sleep last night. He really went all out with his confession, but yet you still had a sense that he was maybe guilty about keeping all of that inside.

As you both headed upstairs, you were quicker than him when he turned off the downstairs lights. You were faced with an option. Now, Kenma wasn't thinking, nor knew, about this so-called option, but you made a choice.

"Ken?" You called from your room, gathering your PJs, because you already assumed what he was going to say.

Followed back was a "Hm?" from Kenma himself.

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" You asked, more quietly now, as if you were scared of what he would say.

Kenma paused, and for a good second you thought he was hesitating. "If you're sure."

You smiled all giddy and quickly changed into a large night tee and shorts, as usual. After a speedy night routine, you meet Kenma in his bedroom.

This felt much more intimate than it did in the hotel for some reason. Maybe it was the fact that you both agreed to sleep in the same bed, or maybe that you both know a budding relationship might start, or even that you both have seen each other in such a vulnerable, alluring state already.

Climbing into the silk-sheeted bed, you felt like you were in heaven; not only did you feel like you were going to sleep on clouds, but Kenma even had a heating blanket.

"Oh my God, I love your bed." You commented, happily rolling around in the sheets as he was too busy checking his monitors and turning them off.

"Thanks, it's good for my hair since I dyed it back in high school." He half smiled from what you could see with him turned around. It felt more comfortable being around Kenma like this; it was easy and comfortable.

When Kenma climbed into bed as well, that's when all comfort went out of the window. His larger frame climbed over you so he could lay by the wall, his usual spot when sleeping.

Everything was quiet for a few minutes, and you thought that he may have already fallen asleep, so when you turn over to your side facing away from him and lay on your back, you hear him shuffle.

"So... how was your orgasm?" His voice seemed like it was coming from directly by your ear; your face immediately flushed red, but it was barely seeable since it was dark in his room with the exception of your nightlight.

"... What? What do you mean, Ken?" You tried your best not to stammer and make it as even as possible. You were sure that the front door had opened when you were already done, right? You wracked your brain but couldn't remember because the sleep in your eyes was becoming too much.

"You remember the hotel? I figured you didn't connect the dots because you're a little sleepy, but I didn't get a wink of sleep. You made a confession, did you not?" Kenma's voice sounded different—huskier, filled with a need for something.

You froze until you felt his warm hand snake around the bed to find your waist.

"Yeah, I—um, I made a confession at the hotel..." You closed your eyes, not wanting to deal with the shame of Kenma knowing that you spied on him while he was masturbating—to you after all.

"You're so dirty, you know that, right? Such a dirty girl..." He trailed, massaging your love handle, "But you liked it, right? Is that why I came home to you, pleasuring yourself to the thought of me?" You could hear an ever so slight chuckle underneath his breath. Kenma was toying with you. And you liked it.

"I'm sorry, Kenma. I didn't mean to spy; I just heard, and then went to go see—I'm sorry." You pleaded, not sure what for, until he turned you around, facing towards him.

"Shh, no worries, it's okay, Y/n. Can I kiss you?" Kenma asked, his lidded eyes staring in your wide, needy, dilated ones.

You nodded, not sure what to say other than yes; your heartbeat was practically in your throat as you shook your head yes. He came closer; you felt his breath on your lips before he closed the gap and touched your soft lips with his own.

Kenma parted your lips with his tongue, swiping at the entrance, wanting to explore the inside of your mouth. He's waited for this moment since he first fell for you, and savoring this moment wasn't enough; he needed to conquer.

A rough hand came to the back of your head as he pushed you closer to him, his tongue furthering deeper in your mouth. You couldn't help but to moan out into the kiss, using your nose to breathe instead of breaking it for air.

You could feel the wetness between your legs, and the heat in your core began to stir. Kenma got restless and started to grip your clothes roughly; his breathing was uncontrolled and harsh, like he had been waiting for this his entire life.

Kenma abruptly broke the kiss with you; you whined and fisted at his clothes for more.

"Stop whining, Y/n. I need to know if you want this; you do know what is about to happen between us if you want to continue, right?" His yellow, cat-like eyes stared hard into yours; you could tell Kenma was restraining himself after you worked him up so much.

"I want, I do want this... I just haven't done this before, though, with anyone." You admitted, hoping he didn't think you were lame since he had that jumbo pack of condoms in his dresser drawer.

"I haven't done it either; I just know what I want and can tell what helps you feel pleasured and what doesn't." He coolly said, a hand snaking under your shirt; his eyes glinted when he found out you weren't wearing a bra.

"Ah! But those condoms... in your drawer? I had thought that maybe you have already done this before." You trailed, not meeting his eyes because you just confessed to snooping around in his room without him knowing.

"You little peek." He chided and lightly pinched your nipple, "Those are from Kuroo, a gag gift from my birthday, actually." He smirked and started placing small feather-like kisses on your jaw.

He needed to get you worked up if he wanted to ensure that you were prepped right for him.

"God," he groaned into your neck, "I've wanted you so badly." He couldn't help but to leave little marks as well; from now on, you would be his.

"Me too; I've wanted you so, so badly, Ken." You whined, arching your back as he lifted your shirt and sucked on your nipples, effectively causing your thighs to rub against one another, ensuring that his plan was working.

You have never experienced something like this, and it made your body feel burning hot and your core throb. Kenma, on the other hand, was experienced to a certain extent due to the internet, manga, and having friends that are guys.

Either way, the achingly painful throb of your core demanded to be filled with every lick and slight tug of your nipples that Kenma was doing.

"You really like your nipples to be played with, my little dirty girl, don't you?" His groaned out into your ear, whilst his magic hands kept working their way on your tender breasts.

His hand snaked down to your panties, effectively slipping them off of your legs, the build up from his playing with your nipples was getting to you, making you extremely eager for the next stage. 

“Are you ready for this?” His piercing eyes couldn’t break away from yours as his middle finger slipped inside your wet heat. It was…strange to say the least, a low moan spilling from your mouth when you felt the pleasure of him moving his digit in and out of you.

His long finger was such a pleasuring break from your short, stubby ones.

Soon after Kenma watched your expressions precisely, he added another finger, keeping it simple as he could feel the tightness from even just that. Your face winced until he slowly started thrusting his fingers into your cunt, slightly curling them to prepare you for what will come afterwards.

“You’re being so good for me,” Kenma whispered, never taking his eyes off of the way your body started to join in with the rocking of his hand, your hips becoming in sync with how badly you wanted more.

Soon, your back was already arching off of his bed, the sight beckoned his dick, which was already painfully throbbing and awaiting your warm hole to fill. 

"Ken,” your voice came tumbling out roughly, “Oh God, I can't—I can't, plea—ah! Stop." You cried, the feeling of your usual pleasure was building in your core but this time, Kenma could reach that one singular spot which had you seeing stars.

His hands didn’t stop inside of you, and quite frankly you didn’t want them to stop either. With the way his thumb rubbed over your clit so lightly you were on the brink of an orgasm.

All of a sudden the pleasure failed to rush over your body, your hips jerked forwards, needing the movement that was suddenly stopped to start again. 

"No! Please! Why did you stop, please?" You could feel the orgasm dissipating inside of your abdomen, your cunt clenching his fingers inside of you that wouldn’t move. 

"Don't tell me to stop if you actually don't want me to. Now, tell me youre sorry, you brat." Kenma spat at you, you both didn’t have a safe word yet and so, Kenma had no choice but to follow your instructions and body language, he didn’t want a misunderstanding because you got overwhelmed with the toe curling pleasure. 

Heat of embarrassment rushed to your face but you hoped he couldn’t tell, “I’m,” you sighed hating apologizing when you knew you were in the wrong about this, “I’m sorr-” You were cut off once again when Kenma hovered his hot mouth over your clit, his digits continuing their bruising movements from not that long ago.

Soon, the rushing thrill of almost finishing came over you yet again and this time, Kenma let it happen. Your legs went stiff as your back arched, his tongue rolling over your clit and a high-pitched moan releasing from your throat.

Kenma slowly slid his fingers out of your cunt, tasting them when your eyes were closed. He didn’t want you to see how needy he was for you. With deep breaths and a few feathery light face kisses from Kenma, you opened your eyes. 

He was right in your face, staring at you deeply in emotion, “You did so well, I’m so proud. Do you want to stop?” There were no negative feelings in Kenma if you did want to stop, he assumed you were worn out already. 

“Huh? No, of course not. I want,” You paused, realizing how badly you still wanted to be filled, especially by Kenma. “I want more, please.”

Between the time of Kenma kissing you all over your face, he had taken his pants off. You stared at his cock, the angry red tip swollen with a need to be released. You gulped, eyes starting to become lidded with need just by looking at it. 

Kenma reached for his side table after letting you look at it, almost stopping to groan when his dick touched your warmth.

You couldn’t help but to arch your back as his dick twitched, “Can we…do it without the condom?” You flusteredly asked, hiding your face behind your hands, you were slightly grinding on his unprotected dick by now. 

Kenma raises a brow, skeptical about having his first time raw with you, knows he shouldn't, but when you’re being such a little minx, he just couldn’t disobey your request. 

“Are you ready then, Y/n? I’ll be very slow and listen to you.” Kenma promised, eyeing you as you allowed him to slowly enter inside. It’s a very damn good thing that Kenma had some patience, even though it was slowly deteriorating, because your cunt was so fucking wet and siphoned his cock into it. 

With a harsh gulp, he peered down at you, feeling the miniscule beads of sweat on his skin from the activity at hand. Your eyes were tightly shut and Kenma hated how your first time was painful while he wasn't.

Although, he realized that you were tense instead of relaxed and that effectively made the whole action hurt even worse.

“Y/n,” He choked out before taking a deep breath, “Y/n baby, you have to relax. It won’t hurt as much if you relax.” Kenma urged, for your sake and his, he was going to cream himself if you didn’t stop holding his dick hostage in your cunt like this.

After a slight head nod and no result, Kenma carefully leaned down without entering even more and started pressing light kisses to your tense face.

“C’mon, relax baby,” He mumbled, kissing your closed eyes, helping your body become more pliable instead of stiff. 

“M’sorry,” You quietly apologized to him, in which he denied that.

“It’s your first time, you didn’t know, baby.” He reassured you. 

With a few small words of permission to keep letting him sink into your cunt, Kenma fully, but slowly, sheathed himself inside of you.

The snug pleasure was overwhelming to Kenma, but he couldn't help but to prefer your pleasure over his. He decided to keep his eyes from rolling back, watching you as he very gradually rocked into you, watching his cock disappear into your warm, wet cunt.

His dick felt like it was going to burst any second, the ache in his groins was a hard fight to maintain and not flip you over to fulfill his own pleasure. 

That was until you started rocking your hips back to meet him, silently asking for more. Kenma squinted at you and stopped moving until you started whining at him. 

"Use your words,"  Kenma’s rough, mean voice came out. He wanted to hear you say it, you needed to learn to be clear when speaking to him about something. 

You hesitate, "I want more; it doesn't hurt anymore; it feels really good." You sigh in pleasure, feeling the fullest you’ve ever been because of him. 

A snap of Kenma’s hips clashed you both together, and like clockwise, the delicious noises fell out from your mouth, unable to be contained even by your hand. 

Kenma gripped your waist, entering you at a breaking pace, the tightness of his hands on you hurting in such a painfully good way. His cock pierced your insides and you found yourself meeting each and every one of his thrusts with the same eagerness. 

Not being able to keep his hands off of your body because the squish of your walls were pulling him in further, it felt like you didn’t ever want him to leave.

He leaned over you, trying to desperately attach his mouth to yours, the look of both of your eyes were mirrored with pure lust and attractiveness.

In less than no time, the toe curling sensation of a familiar orgasm rushed over you, trying to claim your body. 

“Ken, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come," you chanted loudly, rolling your hips faster against his, hoping to grind your clit against him. You fisted at the sheets harder when Kenma put your leg over his shoulder and rubbed your clit. 

Your vision became uncanny as white spots filled it when the crashing wave of the second orgasm of the night rushed over you. Kenma did not slow down or even falter for a second when your body started spasming, your cunt seized as Kenma’s moans finally spilled out as he kept going.

You, on the other hand, had accidentally stopped breathing with the overwhelming waves of pleasure hitting your body as if you were under water. The rush came unyielding as Kenma kept going; he noticed, and yet it made him harder and his dick eager to release.

"Haaah, breathe baby, c'mon breathe for me," Kenma urged, not able to stop his thrusts but trying to soothe your spasmodic state by rubbing your face and throat as gently as he could. 

To his relief, a loud, strangled gasping noise came out of you and Kenma realized that you were crying by now. 

God, seeing you like this in pleasure, your face beating red, and tears rolling down your cheeks was the tipping point. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum, oh God, I’m gonna—" Kenma desperately wanted to cum inside and fill you to the brim of his seed but knew that it wasn't smart to do, especially since this was the first time you both had sex.

His dick was tightening, becoming ready to spill his seed inside if he wasn’t ready to pull out. 

"In—side," You choked out, the pleasure making you feel light headed and leaving an airy feeling in your body, almost as if your orgasm never ended. Kenma knew better than to listen to you when you're drunk on sex. 

As his thrusts came to an end, they became sharper and more bruising, and on his last thrust, he pulled out quickly, almost missing, and came on your cunt.

His head was thrown back, groaning, as he rubbed his cock all over your pussy like a dog in heat, the last warm spurts coming out of him on you, which left you with a strange feeling.

Once Kenma was able to collect himself, he leaned down to you looking like you were out of it and not even here all the way. He pressed kisses to your forehead, feeling the dampness on your skin.

"Are you okay? Was I too rough?" Kenma worriedly asked, with a weak shake of your head, he got up ass naked, and all you heard was the bathroom sink running before he came back. In his hands were a cup of water and a wet cloth. 

"Let me clean you; I didn't mean to finish all over you down there," Kenma apologized, his ears turning pink as his usual self came back down to earth.

"Mmm, it's okay. I'm sorry for almost pressuring you to finish inside," you said sheepishly, realizing how bad it was and how horrible he would’ve felt afterwards if that did happen.

After Kenma cleaned you up, he put his shirt over your body, pulled you close, and turned on your favorite childhood show. You relaxed into his body, letting his hands roam all over you and massage the weak points of your body.

"I really enjoyed it, Kenma, thank you." You bundled your head down into the blankets, comfortable in the way he played your favorite show and the fact that his bed, obviously, smelt like him. 

"You make it sound like you paid me," he snorted from behind you, "But you’re welcome; now sleep, you're tired," and sure enough, you followed his orders.

Kenma went quiet behind you as he was relishing in the way your body fit against his, the smell of your shampoo, and the fact that you are in his clothes, which all eased his mind to a comfortable slumber.

synopsis: it's the summer before you go to university, and you decide to become roommates with your pen pal that you've known since you were in primary. big problem arises, he's got a roommate, and it just so happens that his roommate either has a sexual want for you or hates your guts – or probably both?

a/n: hihi everyone! second to last chapter ;) i hope you've all enjoyed this so far <3

tag list: @geektastic84 @lavanderdreamve @hhoneyhan @kirikeijii @marsoverthestars @nymphsdomain @justagirlnamedkai @kodzukein @74zix47 @kakuzone @jaeminaur @3lectraheart @ookamiakasuna @22marie16 @jlly1 @aldebrana @kad0o @animechick555

@deftrow allowed me permission to make this/it's their idea from A03!! all i did was create a multi-chapter fic of it :) i made the banner!!

[k1stune]

Look at you! Getting the future you always wanted

Just don’t look back what you sacrificed for it

(Hey you wanna hear me yap about a buzzpipe au I had in my mind for months?)

I mentioned this au on an ask before and even talked about it on the jackbox server, but it’s basically an au where buzz becomes the host of YDKJ full stream instead of cookie

Long story short buzz sees that cookie and Schmitty are still getting a lot of fame, very envious that the rest of the hosts had their time to shine in YDKJ while instead he was made fun of and forgotten buzz swears that one day he’ll make them regret

buzz’s determination to achieve his goal gets the attention of binjpipe and while working on full stream she decides to hire buzz instead of cookie seeing him as an easier target to manipulate

When it’s time for the first episode to air buzz gets knocked out and put in the simulation, Everything is fine at first buzz is happy with his job somehow even becoming friends with binjpipe but everything changes when escape the simulation happens

It’s the same as ETS but with a catch, with every reset he forgets something about his old life, all the good moments he spent with Nate and the other hosts vanished and the only thing that remained was a bitter feeling, so when he realises that the show was a simulation all along he doesn’t want to leave

Its not real,the show is nothing but a lie and yet it’s the best thing that has ever happened to him,he was denied of a second chance by them even by his own cousin, binjpipe was the only one who helped him, only her

And so e continues to live upon a lie, refusing help from Nate when e tries to free him, going along with binjpipes plans of getting the rest of the YDKJ hosts under binjpipe’s control

Oh I also made few doodles and a reff sheet

This au is quite old so I’m unsure if want to continue it since I’m not as interested in it as I was before but it is a fun one i finally decided to talk about

[nightlyrequiem]

How would Valeria deal with a significant other who is a pop star? How would the two navigate a relationship like that considering that one of them is in the spotlight?

Oh there is lots of potential for angst here.... but I have to reel myself back and keep things happy.

What an interesting dynamic too. In the real world, I feel like Popstar!Reader would be in hot water for dating such an awful person.

Valeria x Popstar!Reader

I don't see Valeria as the type to listen to pop. A few songs here and there but I think she prefers 90s rap or even dramatic classical music. She had heard some of your songs playing on the radio and liked them enough to give your name a little search. She found you pretty. You had a few scandals, as comes with the job. The music industry is cruel after all.

Maybe it was drug related, relationship drama, you being 'rude' to paparazzi even though you were only standing up for yourself. Her interest in you starts off as not much. She likes some of your music and thinks you're pretty but then she slowly starts lurking about on your socials. She doesn't follow you but she regularly checks to see if you've made a new post or a new story. Then she starts saving pictures of you. Any kind that catches her eye but a lot of them are you in more revealing outfits.

She feels frustration and jealousy whenever she sees you with friends. You posted one story where you were side hugging some guy and she was in a foul mood all day. She firmly believes that if you and her had met that she'd have a chance with you.

And meet you she did! Maybe you live in Mexico or maybe you're on tout there. Either way, by some stroke of luck you wind up in Las Almas. You were at a club, and Valeria was also at the club. The rest is history.

Valeria did in fact have a chance. Surprising to no one really. She is one fine specimen. After a few drinks you two ended up in bed together. it turned from a one night stand into something more.

It wasn't like she thought though. You're famous. You preform. You're a goddamn popstar. Which means you're on social media a lot. Which means you receive a lot of attention. You have a lot of people in your DMs. Not that you really see or answer them. There's just too many for you to do that. But Valeria sees them. You had also posted a story of the two of you cuddled up on the couch. Now everyone wants to know who she is. What she does, and she doesn't like that so much. It's not good for her line of work after all.

It's also a bit of issue for you. Cancel culture isn't real and I stand by that, but some people are unnaturally obsessive and critical of everything a celebrity (Specifically women) does. See Chappel Roan. You feel nervous that someone will somehow figure out what Valeria does for a living.

There's also the matter of you leaving constantly. Going off on trips and tours. It puts a bit of strain on the relationship. Valeria is irrationally worried that you're cheating on her. You've come to an agreement though. Every night, after every show you either call her or send her a text. Just to make sure you two are communicating. Sometimes the time zones are too different and one of you is asleep by the time the other responds but it works. You also send her videos. Of the crowds or of you in your hotel room. Sometimes though, she’ll join you. Not on stage of course but she’ll put on a hat and attend a concert or two to support you. Amazed at how monolithic you seem.

You two also decided that you won't post Valeria at all. and when you talk about her you have to be as vague as possible. For the safety of both of you.

In short, it’s kind of difficult for you two. There’s a lot of issues that need to be resolved but Valeria likes you enough to actually fix them with you.

[mumms-the-word]

Yet another Veilguard update with the usual good, the bad, the ugly, and the me freaking out about minor references and callbacks haha

This one is very long sorry

So since the last update I have done as much side content as possible before heading to the Hossberg Wetlands and later Weisshaupt (which I just completed last night) which included, briefly, unlocking all of the solas regrets murals

And uh WOW was that whole deep dive a doozy. I definitely should have spaced out the murals over time rather than movie-marathoned them back to back. But the things I learned about Solas…it’s insanity

In a good way

In a really horrifying way

I loved that our theories about Solas being a spirit of Wisdom first were confirmed, and I lost my mind over the fact that the first elves were spirits who gained physical bodies by taking Titan blood (aka lyrium). And the fact that Solas CREATED THE BLIGHT by essentially making the Titans Tranquil?? And that’s why Dwarves don’t dream????

Losing my mind. Solas what have you DONE.

I still ahev to process it all haha but I do have a few thoughts

So far, I wish there was more engagement with these elements and the Chant of Light. The companions react and say that these reveals basically dismantle Andrastianism but the Chant has several allegorical parallels to what, apparently, really happened. The Maker’s first children were spirits, and all that…so I kind of wish the Chantry had a bigger presence in the game with more reactivity

But that’s a post for another day. For now, I reloaded back to only 3 murals unlocked so the team only knows the story up to Solas creating the Veil. I’ll rewatch the others later.

I got worried about being locked out of stuff so I went ahead and did as much side content as I could with a couple of exceptions. Turns out, I probably didn’t need to do that and it would have made more sense narratively if I hadn’t. More on that in a minute

The Siege of Weisshaupt mission was SO GOOD!! Like…the main missions are really where this game shines, I think. I have gripes with some of the companion conversations, but in the actual story missions, the action, the intensity, all of it is so good. And I thought Ghilan’nain turning her archdemon into a many-headed hydra creature was *chefs kiss* so cool. I love fighting big/unique stuff like that!

All that said the follow up scene with the team at the table leaves…a lot to be desired

Listen, DA games pride themselves on bringing together a team of companions that players adore and fall in love with. Naturally we enjoy helping out our companions because we like them. We don’t have to be told to help them because we just generally do that…and if we don’t then, rip, suffer the consequences

So I got a bit annoyed when the scene suddenly turned to a very overt “fix our problems” narrative

I don’t know, that feels so…forced to me. Varric literally tells me I have to solve everyone’s problems. Which is like…I was going to! Because they’re my friends! But being straight up told like “hey you have to solve everyone’s problems and stop their distractions or this team isn’t going to function” is like…I’m sorry are we adults or aren’t we? Why am I being told to babysit the team? Can you guys not pursue these distractions on your own rather than wait for me to give you permission? Did we all forget that two gods are out there rampaging? That they’re strong enough to destroy a fortress that stood against the blight and various conflicts for over 900 years? That they haven’t stopped and show no signs of stopping anytime soon?

But no, by all means, tell me in very obvious terms that my job is now to reconcile all your differences before I face the gods again. That doesn’t feel very handed at all.

Let me be clear. I love to help my companion. I love the idea that you build a team that works well because you have shaped them via your leadership skills. I love the idea that your team works well because you have invested in them. That’s really the heart of any DA game—gather your team, earn their loyalty, and see how well the friends you’ve made along the way assist you in the big battles to come.

But…that scene around the kitchen table could have been so much better, so much more nuanced, and far less “Solve their problems.”

To me, that scene should have been everyone fighting, calling out everyone’s distractions and mistakes, and essentially devolving into outright arguments over the table until Rook yells at everyone to shut up. Everyone is mad, everyone is upset. And then maybe the companions are like “sorry Rook, listen, I have a lot on my mind. I’m still going to help with the Big Problem but I’m also going to pursue this Other Thing whether you like it or not.” No suggestion that it’s now your problem to solve, but a heavy hint that it might get done more quickly if you help (which also gives you room to be an ass and not help). In this scenario, everyone ends up being very disgruntled with you, but you still have your hint that you need to pursue companion questlines if you want to see their cool abilities or special items or get them to be a Hero of the Veilguard or whatever…but that’s just my opinion

Basically I wanted subtly and tension. So much more tension.

What we got instead was a couple of annoyed comments and then Emmrich being like “oh dear we’re all distracted by the things that bother us” and everyone offering up distractions that, yes, need to be resolved…but it’s very easy to be like “hey bud the Hand of Glory and the Nadas Dirthalen can wait until the gods aren’t threatening to destroy the world I think.”

It’s not the worst scene in the world, but it could have been reframed better. Either frame it as “Sorry Rook but none of these factions trust you enough to aid you in the fight, you have to prove yourself to them” (and loop in the companion questlines that way) or show your team literally unraveling because they can’t get along or agree with you—now you see the evidence of what you need to fix, and nobody has to outright tell you to “solve everyone’s distractions.” It’s just implied. Because you saw them fighting. A lot.

Like duh I knew I’d have to resolve everyone’s problems if I want them to like me or stick around! That’s just what I’ve come to expect from RPG games like this. It’s an expectation of the genre. But I don’t want to be told that’s my job now. If anything it triggers my contrarian nature and now I want to see what bad ending I get when I don’t listen to the game’s extremely heavy push for me to deal with everyone’s issues

I won’t, but I’m tempted

I just…wanted it to be better. I want see everyone bitching at each other until everyone leaves in a huff and Rook just sits at the table, head in their hands like “oh my god everyone hates me and they hate each other and we’re going to die if everyone can’t get their shit together”

Then maybe Varric sits down next to them and goes, “Hey kid, did I ever tell you about the time Hawke tried to convince a Rivaini pirate, a weird abomination, a Dalish blood mage, a stiff-necked captain of the guard, a broody elf who glowed in the dark, and a few other friends besides to all agree to fight as a team to stop a qunari invasion in Kirkwall? It worked, more or less. By the end of the night, everyone had worked together enough to end up with one dead Arishok and an entire city’s gratitude.”

Maybe Rook looks up and says, “And how’d they manage that little miracle? Without everyone trying to kill each other in the process.”

And maybe Varric smiles and shrugs. “They had their differences, trust me. Half the time you couldn’t put two of them in a room together without a fight breaking out. But they all believed in one thing. They believed in Hawke.”

Then maybe there’s a pause, as he lets Rook consider that for a moment, before he stands up and says, “It’s a good bedtime story, in any case. I’ll let you sleep on it.”

Sigh. It just would have been cool…

Now in all fairness the scene felt even clunkier because I had actively been doing side quests and helping out my friends so it was like…it felt weird to have this implication that I’m not already helping them. It makes me think I shouldn’t do any of their side quests until after the Siege of Weisshaupt but who knows

I keep pendulum swinging back and forth between moments of brilliance and moments that leave me baffled and wondering who made some of these narrative/writing calls. I don’t hate the game by any stretch of the imagination. Like I said the Siege of Weisshaupt was amazing! And I loved the callbacks to precious games! You should have seen me live reacting and screaming about codexes in the Weisshaupt library haha But it’s like whiplash when something that good is followed up by a scene that feels excessively more hamfisted in comparison.

Anyway I am very busy this weekend and dunno when I’ll get to write another update soooo if you’re following for more, hope to give you more updates in the near-ish future!

[dragonbma]

🌲 !25 Days of Blockmas! 🌲

The holiday spirit is almost upon us! Starting December 1st, please enjoy this little board of activities I’ve cooked up for the MC:SM community. Blockmas features a handful of fun ways to partake in the fandom along with festive drawing prompts scattered in. Please note everything is optional and you do not have to complete every day to partake! Feel free to use the #25 Days of Blockmas tag so I can see your posts! Have fun and happy holidays!

✏️Day 1: Snow Day!

Toss characters into a nice chilly landscape, snowball fight, or the Icy Palace of Despair. Or perhaps just give them a nice cup of cocoa. ^^

Day 2: Scribble challenge!

Pick a character to draw using only one line. Once you lift your pen off the paper, that concludes the one line! (Feel free to color underneath the scribble!)

Day 3: Secret Admirer!

Slip an ask into the inboxes of your favorite creators and tell them how much their work means to you! Remind your beloved artists why they bring you comfort or inspiration, tell the writers how much their stories made you laugh or cry, etc.

✏️Day 4: Winter Clothes!

Wrap a character in a nice, snug sweater, puffy coat, scarf, or other festive apparel!

Day 5: Storytime!

Grab your blanket and start reading a fic you’ve been wanting to try for a while.

Day 6: The Good, ‘Ol Days…

Vibe and watch a playthrough of your favorite episodes of Minecraft: Story Mode. Alternatively, play the game yourself!

✏️Day 7: Ice Scream!

Turn a character into one of those cursed ice cream treats…

Day 8: AU Appreciation!

Send an ask to a creator about an AU they’ve crafted. You never know what may help them develop the story!

Day 9: Why is this here?

Slip some memes into a mutual’s inbox. Or many mutuals’ inboxes… Or a stranger’s inbox!

⭐️Day 10: Free Space!

Day 11: The Pen is Mightier…

Write a festive snippet about the holidays anywhere in the game! (Beacontown, Sky City, The Underneath, etc!)

Day 12: Kind Comments!

Leave appreciation on a few fanfics of your choice! Tell the authors how much they mean to you ^^

✏️Day 13: Cozy…

Time to keep warm during the snowstorm outside. Snuggle up in a blanket, sip some cocoa, or stay close to the fireplace!

Day 14: They would NOT say that—

Have fun with incorrect quotes or draw over images!

Day 15: Repetition!

Repeat any day of your choice or try one from the remaining list!

✏️Day 16: Gift Giving!

Share the holiday spirit with a few fun presents!

Day 17: Time Machine!

Revisit one of your favorite fics to enjoy the tale all over again.

Day 18: Classic Minecraft!

Have fun mining and crafting! Perhaps play with friends—

✏️Day 19: Ugh, Fine. <3

Give one of your least favorite characters appreciation. (It doesn’t have to be a lot. Just a small doodle will suffice.)

Day 20: Well-Deserved Break! Take a rest. The coming days will be rather artsy so get your pencils ready!

✏️Day 21: OC appreciation!

✏️Day 22: AU art!

✏️Day 23: Doodle a scene from a fic you enjoy!

✏️Day 24: Your choice!

^ For the prompts above, you may use OCs/AUs that belong to others!

🌲Day 25: Recap!

Sit back, relax and take a look at all you accomplished! Enjoy your holidays! If you would like, use this day as another optional Free Space!

[camillomea]

red bond 1:

here is first episode i hope you like it.

When Tim woke up, he heard voices coming from inside. When he opened his eyes, he was in his room. There was a weight on his chest. When he looked there, there was a cat on his chest, its eyes open and looking at him. He meowed. Tim said, “Good morning to you too Nora.” The cat meowed again and got off his chest. Tim straightened up. He stood up. Nora had gone to his shoulders and wrapped her neck like a scarf as he stood up.

He went to the door and opened it. Hesitantly, he said, “Jay.” The voices suddenly stopped. Footsteps were heard.

Jason stuck his head into the hallway and asked, “Timmy, are you awake?”

Tim nodded, “Good morning,” he said.

Jason asked, “Good morning BabyBird, how are you feeling?”

Tim said, “Better,” smiling.

Jason ruffled his hair, “Breakfast is ready.” Tim nodded silently.

Jason asked, “Did Nora decide to be your neck warmer today?” Tim nodded silently. Jason gently petted Nora. Nora hummed. Jason ruffled Tim's hair with his other hand. Tim leaned on his hand. They went to the kitchen. Tim was slightly unsteady.

Jason was moving right next to him. When he sat down, he put some tea in front of him and said "drink up baby bird". Tim hummed quietly and took the tea. Coffee was something he had been drinking less for a while. Jason had slowly convinced him to do it. He knew that Jason was doing it because he was worried about his health. His life had gotten a lot better in the 1 year he had been in his care. Even though he had probably spent the first 3 months in a coma, that was enough. He trusted Jay and his friends with his life and he would always trust them. He knew that Jason was only worried about him. So he didn't go against his rules anymore.

Jason said "Hey are you okay Red" Tim nodded silently and drank the tea. He hummed quietly at the taste of the tea. Jason smiled at her action. He put some pancakes in front of him, cut into bites. Tim looked at it but remained silent, avoiding his gaze.

Jason sat down next to him "Eat it all, okay little bird? Don't forget to say if you want more" he said. Tim nodded silently, put the cup on the table and started eating.

Jason was watching him while he was eating from his own plate "So are you going to accompany me today Red Bird?" Tim suddenly looked up at him in surprise.

Jason said "You made my job a lot easier yesterday by being on the radio" Tim smiled widely then nodded. Jason smiled at that and ruffled his hair.

Tim said "Thanks Jay. For everything" in a low voice.

Jason "Of course little red you are my baby red. You are all baby red of course we will take care of you. Do you remember the promise I made to you?" he asked.

Tim said "Whether I like it or not you will take care of me as long as you are alive" in a low voice.

Jason said "Absolutely. Little bird is under my protection".

Tim blushed. Jason patted his head "Are you in pain baby bird?" he said.

Tim said "A little" quietly.

Jason said “Okay then take your medicine after you have breakfast” Tim nodded silently. The two of them had breakfast silently.

The two of them were eating when the phone suddenly rang. Jason’s eyebrows were furrowed. He picked it up and looked at it, he cursed a few times with the name he saw. He picked it up and opened it “What do you want B?” he said.

Tim quickly raised his head and looked there nervously. Jason listened to the phone for a while then said “What’s it to you whether I’m with you or not?”

Tim was looking at him nervously. Jason said “It’s not up to me whether he talks to you and I’m not going to force him for your nonsense” he said angrily.

He listened to the phone. He turned to Tim “He wants to talk to you” he said without speaking, moving his mouth. Tim looked at him hesitantly. Then he nodded.

Jason put his phone on speaker “I put it on speaker” he said.

Bruce said “Hey Timmy”.

Tim said “Sir Bruce”.

Bruce said “Hey how are you” the tension in his voice could be heard.

Tim said “I’m fine you” quietly. Bruce said, “I’m fine, thanks, it���s good to hear your voice. I haven’t heard it in a while. It’s a relief to hear it again.”

Tim remained silent. Bruce asked, “Well, I wanted to invite you two to dinner today. Of course, if that’s okay with you. What do you think?”

Tim and Jason looked at each other for a moment. Jason said, “We’ll think about it. But we don’t think so.”

Bruce sighed, but said, “Okay, that’s a better answer than no for me. Please at least think about it and let me know at least by 6.”

Jason said, “Okay,” then he ended the call. He turned to Tim. Tim was silent, munching on his pancake in a dull manner. Jason said, “We don’t have to go, baby bird. It’s okay.”

Tim said, “I know, I know.” Jason patted his head. He stroked his hair with his fingers, trying to comfort him. He finally relaxed a little. They continued eating breakfast. Jason always showed him tactile affection, comforting him in this way. He had realized Tim’s hunger for touch shortly after he settled down next to him. That's why he would always approach her tactfully, take care of him and comfort him in this way.

When the meal was over, they cleaned up the kitchen together. Tim had lost most of his body's mobility except for his right arm and shoulder, but Jason knew that he felt useless and that it made him feel depressed. So he always tried to make sure that he didn't feel useless.

When they finished cleaning up the kitchen together, they went to the living room and sat on the couch. Tim was sitting next to Jason on the couch while he did his homework quietly. His back was against his back. Jason was reading a book out loud while he did his homework. They were both relaxed. Nora was lying between their backs.

[doomtrooper77]

I've got a story to accompany this image. You can read it below. It is not a cute romantic story; it is more like my images. So, if that is not your thing, skip the story. If you do, let me know what you think of it.

Wrong Side of the Tracks

I had been in the bar for an hour already. It was one of those places off the beaten track where everyone went from what some would call the wrong side of the tracks. Mind you, this place wasn’t rundown. It just wasn’t fancy. The long wooden bar was polished, and the stools were worn but comfortable. Booths lined the wall opposite the bar. In the back of the bar were some big couches and chairs in an open area. Every seating surface was made of that old-school leather that got patina but never grew thin, never ripped. It was all cushioned just right for sitting and drinking the night away. Behind the bar was bottle after bottle of every liquor you could think of. Cases full of bottles of beer and more than a few on tap. However, don’t come in asking for some fancy new-fangled Microbrew bullshit. This wasn’t that kind of place.

Most people who came here were working-class people who came in for drinks and bar food. People who worked with their hands or on their feet all day. You had some white-collar folks sprinkled in, but mostly people who grew up in the neighborhood who managed to get a job downtown but still came back to visit friends and family in the area. That’s not to say it also didn’t have more seedier visitors. It was also a place where locals on the "wrong" side of the law congregated. Depending on the day of the week and the time, there was little you couldn’t find here if you knew the right person to ask.

You need a loan. There was a table in the back where some gentlemen of Italian persuasion sat most days. They were happy to give you some money for a hefty fee. If you needed something to bring you up or down, there was usually someone you could talk to to provide you with whatever you needed. But they couldn’t sell it in the bar. Business of that sort was not allowed in the bar; discussing it was different. If you needed someone’s leg broken, there was someone who you could talk to about that.

The bar was situated behind several warehouses and buildings in an old light industrial part of the city. You had to know where it was to find it and drive a maze of access roads and streets to find it. The bar had an address but didn’t appear on Waze or Google Maps.  The lot was big enough for everything from Harleys to big rigs.  The lot is dim, with most of the light coming from other businesses outside its perimeter.

I was on my 3rd beer when I heard the Harley outside. It was cold in the Midwest in November, but the hardcore bikers rode in the cold air. I was sitting midway down the bar when the door opened, and the crowd started parting. People quickly moved aside, even to the point where they pressed against others to get out of the way of the approaching figure. I got a glimpse of him just as he passed. I thought, “Jesus, he's gotten even bigger!”  He walked past, and you could feel his aura move with him. Predator. It was the only way to describe it. Some construction workers were drinking a few feet down, and one of the bigger guys either didn’t see him coming or had decided he was the alpha in the room. The biker didn’t change his step; his massive shoulders plowed through the big construction worker, pushing him into his buddies and spilling his beer down his shirt.

“Hey FUCK WAD, watch where you’re going!” The big construction worker said. He was big, about 6’5, and easily 280-290 solid pounds. You can tell he was used to being the big guy in the room. The area around them quieted as the biker turned around and took two steps back. I got a good look at him then. He was about 6’2, so shorter than the construction worker. However, everything else about the biker made the construction worker seem small. He had actual doorway-wide shoulders.  Arms are truly as thick as a healthy man's leg. Massive pecs encased under the leather vest. His lats push his massive arms away from his body at a freaking 45-degree angle. A neck so massive that it seemed like his huge shoulders just met his head somehow.  The part of my brain that was pretty damn good at calculating a man's size and weight told me at least 375 actual pounds.

One of the construction workers whispered “shit” as he pulled on his friend's arm. The bigger construction worker was wiping beer from his shirt and shook his friend's arm off as he looked up. Both men’s eyes met, and something happened. Guys know the feeling when you are in a situation where you quickly find out that you are not the alpha in the room. The biker took another step forward and pushed his chest into that of the construction worker. The biker tilted his head to that angle some guys do when trying to figure out how badly they will hurt someone. Not if, but how much. Everything around them quieted and stopped.

I could only see part of the construction workers' faces, but I could see the anger drain quickly away to be replaced by fear.  The Biker saw it and stepped into him more, pushing him back on his friends. Something like a wave of heat seemed to pass over me, and I could feel the raw dominance coming off that biker. It was like being on the edge of a violent storm. You can feel the air pressure change and smell the lightning as it crashes just feet away. Or it is like being on the edge of a vast forest fire, watching a fire tornado spin feet away and your skin both dry and slick with sweat simultaneously.

I felt my balls shrink up and throb at the same time.  “Sorry. Sorry.. man, I’m sorry,” the Big Construction worker was saying. No longer meeting the biker’s gaze, he said, “Sorry I bumped into ya. My fault. Sorry, sorry.”  The Biker stayed crowded in his space for another 15 seconds, stepped back, and looked at the construction workers' buddies, who all looked away. He turned to walk to the back of the bar to the area where the couches and chairs were. There was a dangerous and knowing smirk on his face.

Within seconds, the bar's sounds returned to normal, and people moved on as if nothing had happened—except for the construction workers. Those guys threw money on the bar, paid their tab, and quickly left.

However, I was now intrigued—no, make that obsessed—with the monster in the back of the bar. Over the next hour, I made my way down the bar toward the back of the room. I could see he was sitting with several other bikers and rough-looking men. I couldn’t hear what they were discussing but could see them on the sly. He filled one of the club chairs, his mass covering it completely. He wore this leather vest, black jeans, and big black harness boots. Out of the group, he talked the least.

A couple in the booth was just on the edge of the sitting area, which had a perfect view.  They left when I almost convinced myself that my little spy game had gone as far as it should. Before they could get two steps away from the booth, I slid into it. The waitress came over, and I got another beer.  I took out my phone and pretended to be scrolling on it while I was sneaking peaks at the monster. My cock was so hard in my pants that I had to squirm around a bit to give it room.  Knowing I might never see this guy again, I discreetly turned on my camera and videoed him. I kept making gestures like I was scrolling and typing, but I was filming his every twitch and flex.

I ended up drinking another two beers while getting more and more footage. The angle I had the camera meant I really couldn’t see my screen. I might have noticed when he started looking at me if I had. Only when I looked up to sneak another peek I saw two pools of steel looking at me.  Eyes so bright and grey that they seemed to glow, and they were looking at me. Not glancing but staring at me. I could feel the weight of his attention. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck” was all I could think.  As nonchalantly as possible, I slowly angled my phone away, and while pretending to be texting, I shut off the camera. It was time to go. I couldn’t dare look up at him to see if he was still looking, but I knew. I could feel it—the heat and pressure of his attention.

I had two problems. My cock was still rock hard, and I needed to piss badly. So badly, I thought that if I tried to make it to my car, I would piss myself. SHIT. I took out my wallet and threw 50 bucks and an OK tip on the table. Every second felt like my bladder was going to burst. SHIIIT. Taking a deep breath, I causually stood up with my hand in my pocket, trying to hold my boner down, and started walking across the bar to the hallway with the bathrooms. My brain screamed don’t look at him, my cock, on the other hand, throbbed under my fingers and said, come on one last look.

Glancing in his direction as I walked past the men who sat in front of him, I saw his head turn and track me. Like some goddamn tiger or something. I got to the bathroom and made it to the urinal, and let out 5 beers worth of piss. My hard cock throbbing in my hand the entire time. When I finished, my cock had gone to semi-hard. Stuffing it back in my pants, I washed my hands, took a deep breath, and told myself to walk out of the bar. Walk out of the bathroom and straight out the bar, not looking at him or anyone. Out the bar and to my car.  Go home. Go home and watch all of the videos you took of that beast. My cock twitched and started to harden again.

I opened the door, turned to go down the hallway, and ran into a wall of beef. He stood there, his massive body filling the dim hallway, waiting. I bounced off him and stumbled back two steps. I looked up at his face and those eyes. My body froze. I can’t explain it. I FROOZE. He looked at me, his head tilted as if he were deciding something. My heart was racing, and my mouth was dry. For seconds, I couldn’t say anything. Then I remembered what happened with the guy up front. I quickly said, “Sorry. Excuse me for bumping into you.”  

He started moving toward me. I backed up a step, thinking he was headed to the bathroom. But he wasn’t. He kept walking past the bathroom, and now he was against me. His massive body pushes me forward, my backward pace struggling to keep up. “Uh wait, hey, umm, excuse me.” Every nonsensical word came out of my mouth, and he kept pushing me back down the hallway. I started to fall backward, and I felt this massive hand grab my shirt and keep me upright. With no effort, he lifted me on my toes and carried me down the darkening hall. I kept mumbling until he said, “Shut up.” He didn’t yell. He gave an order and expected it to be followed.

We turned a corner and went down another short hall. There was an exit door. He pushed me through it into the night. Behind the bar, it was virtually pitch black, only lit by moonlight and his eyes. He walked us 50 feet behind a brick shed and pushed me against the wall.  His beard split into a hard grin, and he said, “Phone.”

Stunned and terrified, I said, “What?”

I have never had anyone grab me by my throat and lift me off the ground before. His massive hand clamped around my neck; his other hand went to my pants pocket and ripped out my phone.  Still holding me up with one hand, his other expertly clicks the button to turn the screen on. It was locked. He looked at me and then at the phone. I expected he would demand the lock code. Instead, he turned my head to face the phone and held it up. Even in the dim moonlight, it recognized my face and unlocked it.

The massive hand that wasn’t throttling me expertly moved over the screen. His big fingers press and swipe my screen. The screen lit up his face. Harsh, rough, brutally handsome. In a few seconds, I heard the sound of the bar playing from my speaker.  His hand tightened on my throat.  I watched his face as he scrubbed through the video. His brutal features were darkening. The aura of potential violence made the air thick.

He turned the phone so I could see the video playing, which showed him staring at me and the camera from minutes ago. He pulled me down and leaned all of his weight into me, crushing me to the shed wall. He leaned in where our faces were touching. His steel grey eye was less than an inch from my own, staring into my eye like a laser beam. His beard rubbed against mine as his mouth was next to my ear. His hot, angry breath blew across my ear and neck.  It was intimate. Fear can be intimate.

“Who the fuck are you, and why are you videoing me.” He said. His voice was deep, and his words were spoken normally, but the power behind them made me shiver.  My brain went blank. Words just tumbled from my mouth. Apologies. Explanations. Gibberish. I could see the rage ignite in his eyes as he pressed himself against me fully and repeated himself more forcefully. He asked again, and the anger and potential violence in his voice made my legs weak.

Then froze.  His eyes stayed locked to mine. His head tilted. He let go of my neck and reached down between us.  My brain may have been terrified and incapable of action; however, my cock was having the time of its life.  It could care less that this 390-pound monster was about to rip us apart. All it cared about was that 390-pound monster crushing and grinding me into the wall behind us. I felt the biker’s massive hand grab my hard cock.

The heat in his eyes was still there, in suspension.  Lifting my phone back up, I watched as he expertly tapped, swiped, and scrubbed through my phone. We stood that way for almost 3-4 minutes. I heard numerous videos I had saved to my phone from Leather sites, Raw Fuck Club, videos saved from Twitter and Pornhub. He flicked through them, and all the while, my throbbing cock was crushed by his hand.

Looking back at me, his eyes were still full of heat. “Is that it puppy? You getting some more jerk off material on your phone?” My fear is now joined with shame. SHIT. Shame giving me the power to look away.  His big hand squeezes my cock painfully, and he says, “I asked you a question, boy! You’re videoing me so you can jerk this thing off later?” His hand squeezed and pulled my cock roughly through my jeans. It throbbed and twitched with excitement.

I mumbled, “Yes.”

His face gets close to his mind, and the anger is back in his voice, “Speak up, boy! You got the balls to be filming me for your personal pleasure, be man enough to say it!”

“Yes, that is why I was filming you,” I said.

“Why me?” He said, his voice clearly expecting an answer.

I paused. Thinking of what to say.  Decided on the truth. “I’ve never seen anyone like you. As big as you are.  As tough as you are. As strong as you are.  As mean and scary.“ I stopped myself from going further.

He let go of my cock and pressed himself hard against me, crushing me more than before. “You like’em big and scary, huh?” His face was close to mind. “I’m 400 fucking pounds of the meanest and scariest motherfucker you gonna ever meet, boy.”  He pushed his mouth close to my ear and said, “I do mean and scary shit for fun. Are you sure you want that?” He fucking growled like a beast in my ear.

My cock didn’t give my brain time to think, so I quietly said, “Yes.”

He growled in my ear and crushed me even more against the wall. “Mean and scary it is.” He said.

Spinning me around, he pushed me face-first into the brick wall. He reached around, grabbed the front of my pants, and unbuckled my belt. He slid the belt off. Before I knew what was happening, he had made a loop out of it, put it around my neck, and pulled it tight. “There we go, puppy needs a leash.” He said. I was up on my toes. My skin was hot and cold. Excited and scared.

I felt his other hand grab the back of my jeans and yank. There was a ripping sound, and I tried to grab his hand to keep him from ripping my jeans. “Hey, I can take them down…” I never finished that sentence because I felt a fist hit me in the kidneys. Bright pain lanced up my side, and my legs went weak.

Pressing up against me, he said, “Understand this puppy. You’ve got three jobs right now. One, do what I say and nothing but what I say. Two, do whatever you can to make sure I enjoy using you however I want. Three, Survive. Do one and two well, and three shouldn’t be a problem. You fuck around thinking this is some date, and I can show you a whole other level of mean and scary. Do you understand me, boy?”

“ Yes, Sir.” I said.

He laughed roughly as his hand grabbed my jeans and ripped a big hole in the center. His hand reached through the hole to grab my shorts and grab one of the ass straps of my jock. He chuckled, “You’re a kinky fucker, aren’t you?”

I felt him step back and heard a zipper. He growled deeply again and pressed himself against me. I could feel his hot throbbing cock rub against my ass. He ground his hips back and forth and side to side. Fuck, it was huge. I could feel it throb and twitch as it moved across my skin. He slid it up my back and around my hips so I could feel how big it was.  I whimpered a bit in lust and fear. Leaning in, he growled, “Everything about me is big and scary.”

He slides his now hard cock between my ass cheeks, stretching the cheeks apart with-it’s size. I feel him let out a deep, growling breath as he crushes me between him and the wall.  I felt the big, veiny flesh slide up and down my hole. Yanking on the belt, he growls, “Open up.” He pushes his way in. Fuck its, huge. So damn thick. It just keeps sliding and sliding in. My breath is coming in short gasps. He chuckles as it pushes all the way in. I can feel his pubic hair and zipper teeth on my ass.  I want to yell, but the belt is pulled tight on my neck.

“That’s it, puppy. Take it. Take it all.” He says, grinding his massive body against mine. His cock throbbing deep inside me. Soon, he got a steady stroke going. His strokes are solid and deep. His powerlifting hips alternate from jackhammering into me to crushing me against the wall between him and the shed. He’s growling and breathing behind me like an animal. My legs are weak from the pounding.

I feel him loosen his grip on the belt, grab my hair, and pull my head to the side. I feel his thick beard rub across my neck. I moan as he rubs across that spot. The spot that makes me squirm when the right man finds it. He knows and licks across it. My body shakes. Then I felt his mouth bite down on that spot. Every nerve in my body cuts on and off. His hungry mouth bites and gnaws at my neck. Never breaking the skin. Holding me in place as his massive body goes into overdrive. Powerfucking me against the wall. I feel like a rhino is ramming into me. Time blurs and I don’t know if it has been 5 minutes or 15, but this monster has stamina. His pounding has never stopped.

I’ve never been used like this. I feel his stroke change, and by the 4th stroke, he explodes inside of me. Shot after shot, painting my insides. So much cum. So much I can feel it leaking around his cock and down my legs. He keeps his cock inside me until the absolute last twitch is done. When he pulls it out, I can feel more of it soaking my jeans.

I feel him step back and hear him say, “Turn around, boy.”  My legs are weak and wobbly. I feel like I have just lost a boxing match or been used like a tackling dummy.

He’s looking at me. Fuck he seems even bigger now. A huge fucking shadow in the moonlight.

I can barely see his face, but his eyes shine as he says. “You are not fucking done.” Looking down and then back up, he says. “Clean me up.” I look down, and his cock is still semi-hard and twitching. “You can get on your knees, or I can put you there. Get to work.”

Getting to my knees, I lean forward and take him in my mouth. Just like when he was fucking me against the wall, his hands were soon clamped on the side of my head, and his hips were thrusting his cock deep into my throat. The more I choke, cough, and sputter, the more he likes it. By the time he was done, I was a messy fleshlight. He dumped three more loads down my throat. His big dick was like a firehose. I was so full, weak, and used that I just lay on the ground.

I felt his boot push me over to my back. His huge shadow was standing over me. He puts his boot on my chest, bends down, and shines my phone in my face again. He turns it back around, and I watch as he flicks through it again, stopping a few times.  “You didn’t do lousy tonight, boy. You managed to survive.” Putting real pressure on his boot and my chest, he repeats my home address, work address, and that of my sister. Nothing more, his threat was implicit.  “You better start working out more because next time, tonight will look like foreplay.” Then I watched his massive hand squeeze, and he crushed my phone like it was nothing. It sparked, and smoke started coming out of the cracked sides. I watch him lean back and throw the now burning hunk of glass and metal far further than anyone should be able to. “You need a new phone, puppy.” He says as he walks off into the darkness.  In the next few minutes, I heard a Harley start up and drive away.

Sometime later, I managed to get up and find my way to the parking lot. I smile as I gingerly get in my car, thinking about the cloud backup I have turned on for pictures and video on my phone. I do need a new phone. My dick twitches in anticipation.

[haddonfieldwhore]

florida!!! - aleksander barkov

aleksander barkov x reader

summary: while in florida on vacation you reconnect with someone from your past

warnings: a mixture of aleksander and sasha used throughout, angst, nsfw implied, small age gap (not specific), not edited (it’s 3am)

word count: 4.1k (oops)

“i’ve got some regrets, i’ll bury them in florida”

the smell of coconut wafted through your nose as you applied sunscreen for the third time that day, your skin not yet used to the heat of fort lauderdale. you were visiting for 2 weeks, a much needed vacation from your life back home, and you already felt relaxed after only two days here.

some of your friends were supposed to join you on the trip, but eventually cancelled, either not having the money or not being able to get the time off from work.

though it would have been more fun with them here, you didn’t mind travelling alone, having studied abroad in college and enjoyed every second of it.

well, mostly - you thought to yourself. despite only being here once before as a child, florida was bringing up some memories in your mind that had been long dormant. it wasn’t the state itself that was to blame though; it was something else. someone, to be more specific.

your phone rang in the back pocket of your shorts, and you swiped answer on the call.

“hey jessie,” you answered with a smile.

“hey! how’s florida?” your best friend asked.

“i wish you were here with me, but it’s still pretty amazing,” you admitted.

“i know, i wish i was there too,” she sighed. “next time, i promise - even if i have to quit my job so i can get the time,” she laughed.

“how will you pay for the trip then genius?”

“leave that to me.”

“alright,” you surrendered with a chuckle.

“see any hot guys yet?” she asked, of course that’s what she wanted to know.

“a few, not that i’m really looking,” you admitted. while there had been a few good looking men you had spotted while you were here, there was one specifically that was occupying your mind for the last few days; and you were trying to drown out any thoughts of him.

“did you decide if you’re going to a game or not?” jessie asked as if she had read your mind.

“maybe - the arena is right near my hotel, but i just don’t know if i’ll find the time,” you brushed it off.

“babe, you’re there for 2 weeks, i think you can find time if you want to.”

“you’re right,” you sighed deeply, flopping onto the soft duvet spread across the bed.

“i always am.”

“i’m gonna ignore that,” you smiled. “it’s not like i would see him anyway,” you thought out loud.

“unless you did.”

“that’s not helpful,” you replied with a roll of your eyes.

“i’m sorry!” jessie apologized. “and don’t roll your eyes at me, i can hear it in your voice,” she teased, and you both laughed.

during the 2 years that you had studied abroad in finland, you had wound up entangled with the one and only aleksander barkov; who in the years since then had blossomed in the national hockey league and become the captain of the florida panthers.

things were good for the most part, despite both of your busy schedules you made it work, and all too quickly found yourself falling for the handsome and humble man. he was a few years older than you, kind, handsome, and a perfect gentleman. there were ups and downs, and he was away from home a lot, but you made it work, keeping things casual and not exactly exclusive; not that you even entertained anyone else when he was gone. unfortunately, like most college relationships, things fell apart when you ended your studies there. you tried for a few months after you finished your courses, but despite your feelings for him, there wasn’t enough to keep you in finland without school to occupy you when he was gone so much of the time.

you thought back to the day that you told him you were leaving; the hurt in his eyes broke your heart, but you both knew the day was coming. you were on borrowed time and you both realized it long before either of you gained the courage to admit it.

“i don’t want you to go, but it’s selfish of me to ask you to stay,” he said sadly, and you buried your head in his chest, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as he wrapped his arms tightly around your body.

“we knew it wasn’t forever right?”

“yeah, we knew,” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head.

a part of you wished it could have been.

“are you listening to me?” jessie’s voice snapped you out of it, and you ran a hand over your face in frustration.

“yeah, sorry,” you shook your head, trying to think about anything else.

“you’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

“it’s hard not to - knowing how close we are right now,” you sighed in defeat. you had found it hard to stop yourself from wondering how he was doing, besides thriving on a successful hockey team.

“you miss him.” the way she worded it, it wasn’t a question, you realized.

“our lives are so different and it’s been years since i’ve seen him, jess.” the last time you had seen sasha was when he dropped you off at the airport, the kiss goodbye was almost enough to make you stay. you had texted him when you landed back home, and you’d kept in touch for a few weeks, calling eachother here and there but the distance drove a wedge between you. soon enough life got busy and it was easier to lose contact.

“you didn’t answer the question,” she pointed out.

“i don’t even know if he’s the same person he was back then - i’m certainly not. and he’s a hotshot nhl captian now.”

“of course people change, but this is sasha were talking about. do you really think he’d be that different than he was when you knew him?” she asked. you had told her so much about him, it was like she knew him even though they’d never met. and it was true; the sasha you knew would never let the fame get to him.

“i don’t know him anymore.”

“if you say so. i got to get back to work, my break is over. i’ll call you in a few days?”

“sounds good,” you replied. “love you jess.”

“love you too. keep me updated.”

before you could protest she hung up, and you tossed your phone onto the pillow next to you.

you stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, before grabbing your phone again, opening it to contacts without realizing what you were doing until your finger hovered over the name ‘sasha’.

you hesitated for a moment before closing the app, and googling florida panthers tickets instead.

•

three days later you found yourself sat in one of the crimson seats of amerant bank arena, waiting for the game to begin. you casually followed the nhl, not watching every game, but for obvious reasons, you had a soft spot for the south florida team; it helped that they were fun to watch and had become a force to be reckoned with these last few seasons.

as interested as you were in the game, you found it hard to focus on anything but the memories of aleksander that had continued to float around in your mind for the duration of your vacation. you had woken up this morning with an ache between your legs as you dreamt of the last night you had spent tangled with sasha beneath the sheets of his bed. you could still remember the way his hands felt tracing every inch of your body; not even a cold shower could erase it.

you’d considered not going to the game despite having bought a ticket, but wanted to experience a panthers game while you were here, unsure of when you would get the chance to see them play at home again.

the panthers won, and you weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline from the crowd lingering, but you found you thumb hovering over sasha’s contact in you phone again as you sat next to the pool back at the hotel later that night.

you decided against a phone call, typing out a text message before you could talk yourself out of it.

hey - it’s y/n from college. congrats on the win tonight! :)

a simple ‘hey’ didn’t seem like enough - you weren’t even sure if he had the same number after all these years, or if he remembered you at all. the doubt started to set in the second you hit send, the possibility that you hadn’t left as much of an impact on him as he had with you setting in fast.

what if he didn’t remember you at all?

you decided to call jessie to distract your mind, and you were thankful that it didn’t take her long to pick up.

“hey! i was just about to call you!”

“great minds think alike,” you laughed, her voice putting you at ease a little already.

“what’s up?” she asked.

“just sitting by the pool,” you replied. you hadn’t told her you’d decided to go to the game, and you hadn’t decided if you were going to tell her about the text you’d sent or not yet.

“ugh i’m jealous. i’m considering ditching work and flying out there to join you at this point. you’re still there for another week or so hey?” she asked.

“yeah, 9 more days actually. it would be nice to have you here, jess.”

“is everything okay?” she asked, always able to tell when something was bothering you.

“yeah, i think i just got too much sun today, my head hurts.” you weren’t entirely lying, but you just hoped she didn’t check the weather and see that it had been cloudy in fort lauderdale that day.

“bet you never had that problem in finland, hey?” you knew she was teasing, the climate in finland in fact being drastically drearier than florida, but you were hoping to not think about that for at least a few minutes.

“yeah, definitely not.”

despite the cold, you loved everything about finland. it took some getting used to the dark and cold, but each time aleksander showed you around different places around the country, you knew you would find it harder to leave.

for more reasons than just the scenery.

the day he showed you around his home town of tampere finland was the day you realized that you were falling in love with him.

you walked hand in hand down crowded streets, sasha pointing out different things from his childhood, like where he grew up playing hockey, his favourite restaurants, everything.

you looked up at him in wonder as the glow of the street lights illuminated his face, a light pink tinge across his cheeks and nose from the cold. fluffy white snowflakes fell softly around you, gathering atop the beanie that covered his head and across his broad shoulders.

it was only a few months since you had met, but it felt like you had known him for years. you never imagined a day would come where it would feel like you were strangers, even knowing that your time in finland was temporary.

“you don’t have to leave,” he had said, only a month left in your final semester abroad.

you laid bare next to him, his bedsheets the only thing covering your body as you fiddled absentmindedly with his hands, tracing calluses with your fingertips.

“once the semester is over i won’t have a place to stay, i can’t stay at the dorm.” you had gotten a job at a coffee shop that made you enough money to afford food and necessities, but you couldn’t afford an apartment with that salary, and hadn’t intended to get a job in your chosen field here. the plan was always to go home after your schooling was done.

“you could stay here, with me.”

it wasn’t an absurd idea; you spent a lot of nights at aleksanders house anyway when he wasn’t on the road. but in reality, he wasn’t home that often, and you would feel weird living in his house without him.

“you mean it?” you asked, your heart aching at the thought that even if he said yes, you knew your answer was no. part of him knew it too.

a notification went off on your phone, and you snapped out of your daydream, realizing that you’d once again become lost in memories of what once was.

you pulled your phone away from your ear, jessie’s voice getting quieter as she went on about something that happened at work today. you knew you were being a bad friend, and made a mental note to make it up to her later.

you saw that you had a text message and your breath caught in your throat as you tapped on it.

hey ☺️ it’s been a long time. you watched the game?

you stared at the message, suprised he’d responded so fast, if at all.

“i’m sorry, i gotta go, my phones about to die, i’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” jessie said, and you said a quick goodbye before you both hung up, leaving you alone to deal with your thoughts.

what had you intended when you texted sasha? you weren’t sure even you knew, but typed out a reply anyway; deciding you would figure it out as you went.

i was there actually - i’m in florida for a few days.

you impatiently waited as the three dots appeared to indicate that he was typing.

oh wow. thank you for coming to the game.

you smiled.

i wouldn’t miss it.

it took a few minutes after he read the message for him to reply this time, and you worried you’d said something wrong. deciding you didn’t want to sit by the pool anymore, you wrapped your towel around yourself, fighting of the evening chill that had begun to tickle your skin.

you’d made it up to your hotel room by the time your phone went off again, though it was a text this time; it was ringing. you assumed it was jessie, but froze when you saw sasha’s name light up the screen instead.

should i answer it? you thought.

a thousand reasons why you should or shouldn’t ran through your mind, but you ultimately swiped accept and closed the door behind you as you stepped in to your suite.

“hi,” you answered nervously. all these years later and he still had this much of an effect on you.

“hi,” he replied, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his voice. “it really is you.”

“did you think it might not be?” you laughed slightly, and on the other end of the call, aleksander realized how much he’d missed the sound.

“i don’t know, maybe,” he admitted. “it’s good to hear from you.”

your heart skipped a beat.

“how have you been?” you asked, pacing around the room. despite how easily sasha used to be able to put you at ease, you couldn’t stay still.

“i’m good,” he replied, and you had forgotten that he was a man of few words at times. “what about you? what brings you to florida?”

you couldn’t exactly tell him that you had been good save for the fact that he was all you’d thought about for the last few days.

“good,” you decided was your answer. “why did you call instead of texting?” you asked. it had been years since you last spoke, but you felt like you were back in college, calling him while he was on the road to hear about his latest game.

“oh… i just wanted to hear your voice i guess,” he admitted, a blush forming across his face that he was glad you couldn’t see.

sasha sat in his car outside the restaurant where he and some of his teammates had been out to celebrate their victory when you texted, and he had excused himself to make a phone call, quietly sneaking out to his car.

of course he’d thought about you in the years since you left finland, always considering you to be the one that got away, despite the fact that you both knew from the beginning that you’d be leaving.

he hadn’t expected you to text him out of the blue that you were in florida, and it made him anxious to know that you were so close, especially knowing that you had been at the game earlier that day.

a happy anxious.

“yeah, it’s nice to hear your voice too.”

“are you coming to the game later this week?” he asked. you hadn’t planned on it, but the way he asked made you hope it meant that he wanted you to say yes.

“i might be, i’ll have to see about getting a ticket,” you replied, giving an open ended answer.

“if you need a ticket i can send you one,” he said, before quickly adding. “if you want.”

“do you want me there?” you asked, hoping you weren’t being too bold to assume that could be what he meant.

“of course i do.”

•

you spent the next few days feeling like you were floating on air, like you would wake up any moment and this would all be a dream.

you had been texting aleksander almost constantly, and he called you every night, catching up on the years you had missed, though it felt like no time had passed.

you were suprised when he had asked you to meet him after the game tomorrow, which he had in fact gotten you a ticket for. you tried to offer to pay for it, but he refused. you knew he could easily get them for free as the captain, but still felt wrong taking it.

you were getting ready to head to the arena, when your phone rang.

“are you ever actually working when you’re at your job?” you laughed as you accepted the call from jessie.

“i’m on my break for your information,” she argued playfully.

“fair enough. how are things back home?”

“boring without you of course,” she laughed.

“obviously,” you teased.

“did you decide if you’re going to the game tonight?” she asked, and you half wondered if she had cameras watching you.

“i am actually getting ready to go right now, stalker.”

“good - i’m sure you’ll have a great time,” she replied. “and who knows, maybe you’ll run into a certain finnish captian while you’re there…”

“i doubt it,” you lied. you still hadn’t told her that you’d already gone to a game, or that you’d been talking with sasha non stop for the last three days.

“you never know. cupid works in mysterious ways.”

“jess…”

“i know im just teasing.”

you talked for a few more minutes before you had to leave to go the arena, still thinking about what she had said.

if only she knew, you laughed to yourself.

•

you waited in your rental car after the game for aleksander to text you where to meet him, giving him time to shower and talk with the team after yet another panthers win.

he had let them know that he wouldn’t be joining them to celebrate tonight, but hadn’t told them why, deciding to keep your existence a secret for now as neither of you were sure exactly that this was.

you phone went off and you checked to see that he had sent you his location, still at the arena but he must have parked on the other side where fans couldn’t usually go.

you drove over until you saw him standing outside the players entrance, and your heart rate sped up.

talking on the phone was one thing, but seeing him in person was different.

you hoped you looked okay as you parked and got out, walking up to him with a smile.

“hey,” he smiled, and you couldn’t resist the urge to embrace him in a hug, which he thankfully returned.

sasha felt a pang in his heart as he held you tight to his chest, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. he missed this; sure he had moved on with his life in the time you had spent apart, but there was a part of him that always wondered what it would have been like to have you there by his side the whole time.

“did you get taller?” you laughed, and he smiled, blushing softly like he always did anytime you complimented him.

“maybe,” he shrugged as he felt your arms release their grip on him. as you stepped back, he took in your appearance. you had grown up slightly since he’d watched you board a plane and leave him behind, but the years had been good to you.

“congrats on the win by the way,” you said, suprised at how the nerves had melted away. so far, he was still the same sasha, and you’d always found it easy to talk to him.

“thank you,” he said shyly, humble as ever.

“where did you wanna go?” you asked.

“do you want to get coffee?”

“sure,” you smiled. “lead the way, captain.”

•

you and sasha spent nearly three hours in the small coffee shop, catching up on anything you’d missed telling eachother over the phone, and repeating somethings you already had. neither of you minded, and when the barista let you guys know that they’d be closing up soon, you found yourself wishing you had more time.

just like in finland.

there was no one else in the coffee shop since it was late at night by now, and the soft music was quickly making you tired despite the caffeine in your system.

“i should take you home,” he offered, and then as if he read your mind, added. “i can pick you up tomorrow morning and take you to your car if you want.”

“sure - thank you,” he helped you put on your light jacket you had worn despite the florida heat, and you hesitated before slipping your hand into his as he walked beside you to his car, fingers interlocking.

once you were back at your hotel, you hesitated before getting out of the car.

“do you want to come up with me?” too scared to see his reaction, you looked down at your lap as you waited for his answer, but the sound of the engine shutting off made you lift you gaze and meet his eyes.

“i’d like that.”

•

you woke up to the feeling of sasha’s fingers tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder, and cuddled closer into his chest as the sunlight crept in through a crack in the curtains.

“good morning,” he whispered.

“good morning,” you repeated, feeling the warmth of his arms wrapping around you, your legs tangled with his beneath the covers.

“i missed this,” he admitted, and you hummed in response.

“me too.”

he was silent for a moment, as if he was mustering up the courage to ask you his next question.

“do you ever wonder what things would be like if you had stayed in finland?”

you looked up at him, your eyes meeting.

“yeah, a lot actually,” you admitted. “sometimes i regret leaving.”

“you had to go,” he said, but you could tell that it had hurt him when you left. maybe as much as it had hurt you.

“it was one of the hardest things i ever did. leaving you.”

“we found eachother again though,” he replied, always finding a way to look at things in a positive light. reality set in as you realized the harsh truth.

“i’m only in florida for a few more days sasha,” you confessed, and you felt guilty. surely he knew that you had to leave again, but it still felt like you were doing something wrong.

“i know,” he assured you. “no one stays anywhere forever.” you knew he hadn’t meant it with any hostility.

“do you like it here in florida?” you asked, trying to shift the subject off of you leaving. “it’s so different from home.”

“it’s very different, but it’s nice.” he agreed, and while he knew when you called finland home you meant his, but there was a time when you called it home as well, even if you were just a guest there.

“yeah, it’s really nice,” you agreed.

“will you visit again?” he asked the question you had been dreading.

“i don’t know when i’ll be able to,” you said honestly. “but i’ll try, sasha.”

he smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“we play in your hometown next month,” he remembered aloud, and you smiled, knowing you would see him again sooner than you imagined.

“i’ll have to get a ticket,” you smiled at him.

“i think i can help with that.”

disclaimer: all screenshots, events, and/or interactions depicted in this are a work of fiction. i have no association with any parties mentioned

[demigod-shenanigans]

Hi I’m super stuck on the “Nicknames/Wilderness”  prompt for Day 1 of Lost Trio Week, and for various reasons I only have a week to write something. If you could be so kind as to drop a few hcs/thoughts that might get me inspired to write, that would be very much appreciated! (The writer’s block is real)

Laughing a little bit because that’s the prompt I’m also stuck on

I will share headcanons, too, but a general gentle reminder: if it’s too much or you’re not feeling a certain prompt, you can absolutely participate in lost trio week without participating in every single day. Also not sure how you’re doing it, but personally, I’m not writing these in order. I started with Day Four because that was the one I felt most inspired to work on

That being said:

-If we’re talking Wilderness as in Wilderness School, Leo and Piper clicked the moment they met. I’m not sure what it was, exactly—maybe he made a stupid joke and she was the only one that laughed. Maybe she caught him trying to play a prank on someone and wanted in on it. Whatever it was, they’ve been inseparable ever since. It could be interesting to explore some of those memories, or how they looked like with Jason added, or maybe what it would have been like if Jason had actually ended up at the school with them somehow.

-When it comes to Wilderness as more of a general concept, one of the specific silly things my brain just went to was camping trip. Piper has little to no skills when it comes to that stuff. She’s lived in mansions and had private chefs for most of her childhood. The closest she’s ever come to camping has been missions and the time her and her dad camped in the yard of her grandpa’s old home when she was ten, but that wasn’t real camping. Jason has lived in the woods before when he was very little and probably has skills based on that and some stuff he picked up from survival classes in that context, but living with wolves is very different from regular camping and if he’s ever had to apply his theoretical Camp knowledge, he cannot remember it. Leo has the most practical skills when it comes to sleeping outside but he was just kind of making shit up as he went and didn’t really have equipment. —This is all to say they take like an hour failing to set up a tent. Leo has never been more frustrated in his life because he rebuilt a celestial bronze dragon from scratch but is somehow being foiled by a tent instruction manual. Jason keeps bringing up that sleeping under the stars at age three wasn’t that bad. Piper goes from frustrated to laughing hysterically because this being the thing they fail at after every ridiculous impossible task they’ve mastered is objectively hilarious. The whole trip is a disaster for a variety of reasons but I feel like they end up having a great time

-I’m not very good with Nicknames (neither as a prompt nor as a general concept honestly, I’m not really someone who gives people nicknames a lot), but one of the things that comes to mind there could be these changing over the years? Leo and Piper go from strangers to friends and use nicknames for each other for the first time, and it means something, because Leo’s not stuck around another person for long enough to come up with a nickname in years. Jason getting a nickname from Piper and Leo and not really being sure why it feels as strange as it does since he doesn’t have his memories—Reyna doesn’t feel like she’s the type of person to really use nicknames, and since everyone at Camp Jupiter saw him as a leader, I don’t feel like they’d casually call him by some nickname either. Jason hearing that nickname and it being meaningful because for the first time in ages he feels like a kid instead of a leader. Jason getting to use a nickname for Leo and/or Piper for the first time and it feeling significant for the same reason. Jason and Piper post-breakup trying to figure out what to call each other now because they’re objectively better as friends but it’s still weird and new and everything is different and it’s too strange to keep using the same nicknames they did when they were dating.

Hope some of this was helpful!! Please feel free to use however much or little of it as you’d like! Writing this out actually helped me massively because it made me realize I’m a massive idiot and do have a concept I want to use for this prompt (not any of the above ones so again please feel free to grab them if you’d like!) so thank you for that haha