#i’m literally exploding about them all the time on the inside

[youredyingthatsallthereis]

ghostsoaproach for the shipping bingo 😘✨

this is only not a bingo because i am a coward who can’t write angst I’M SORRY THEY ARE MY BABIES AND I LOVE THEM

[ozarkthedog]

actually melting thinking about jack’s knowledge of anatomy plus of your body and how he puts it into practice like a clinician. a hot doctor who knows all your spots and will either hit them all at once or really drag it out to tease you?? he’ll take care of literally everything and do things to you that you didn’t even know you wanted or needed it’s deadly i’m dead

yeah, so this is my first time writing for Jack and it's probably a mess but I had to write something just to rip the bandaid off. thank you, anon for being my first Abbot ask. ilu with all my heart. 💙

warnings: 18+ mdni. Jack Abbot x afab!reader. fingering. asphyxiation. not super filthy.

Jack knows what you need before you do.

He can sense your energy and mood; the slightest imbalance.

Sometimes, all he needs to do is to curl a hand around the back of your neck, fingers softly tugging your hair, while he slides two fingers inside your cunt.

"I know, I know." He coos down at you. His piercing eyes keep you grounded as you gasp from the sudden stretch. "It's a lot. But you can take it."

The intense pressure builds and builds while he steadily works his sticky fingers in a come hither motion and smothers your clit with his thumb.

"Feel that?" He asks, curling his fingers against a hidden spot you had no idea about. Your body explodes, nerves spasming like lighting struck, but he keeps his hold locked tightly.

Deep and raspy, Jack laughs before tipping his head to steal your gaze. He waits until you nod before he continues. "That's a special little spot."

He hooks his fingers against the spot once more, forcing a shocked gasp from your lip as he stokes the fire burning deep in your belly.

A sly smirk tugs at the corner of his lip. "My favorite, actually."

Other times, when you're beyond stressed and need to forget about the world, Jack teases you until you cry in his arms. Keeping you stuffed full of his cock, thrusting over and over until you're on the cusp of bliss, only for him to pause and withdraw, leaving your empty cunt spasming around nothing.

He knows all you need is to take what he gives you. Pleasure, pain, or a mix of both. If he wants to, he'll take you apart piece by piece with his bare hands only to put your back together again.

Jack tempts fate when it's needed.

He moves quick and precise, curling a skilled hand around the front of your neck, letting the heavy weight settle on your sweaty, overheated skin until the time is right.

Another frantic mewl spills from your lips, along with fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Only then does Jack press his thumb down against your carotid.

He knows it's reckless.

With his cock buried deep, spreading your folds, he cuts just enough blood to make you woozy. He thrusts into your warmth with an endurance only army medical doctors have. He watches you tremble, your mouth bobbing like a fish out of water, waiting until he gives you any bit of solace.

Slowing your brain's blood flow can turn south real quick, but Jack enjoys the control. The feeling of you struggling under his touch.

The way you look at him like he's the only thing left in your world.

"Atta girl."

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

[diekleinesuesse]

ATEEZ Members Overhear Their S/O Gushing About Them

Hongjoong

Hongjoong had been in his studio all day, headphones on, fingers tapping rhythmically against the desk as he fine tuned a track. His back ached from sitting for so long, and he figured a short break was overdue. As he stepped into the hallway, he heard your voice coming from the living room. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but something about the softness in your tone made him pause.

“No, you don’t understand,” you were saying, a laugh in your voice. “I love him so much, I think my heart might actually explode sometimes. He works so hard, and he’s so passionate about everything he does. I don’t know how he manages to take care of everyone around him and still have time to make me feel like the most special person in the world. Hongjoong is just… everything.”

Hongjoong felt his breath hitch. His face burned, a mix of shyness and overwhelming warmth flooding his chest. He took a step back, rubbing at his face with his hands, trying to suppress the giddy grin stretching his lips. When you finally hung up and turned around, he was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed but a soft, adoring smile on his face.

“So… I’m ‘everything’ huh?” he teased, eyes twinkling.

You gasped, clutching your phone to your chest. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to hear how madly in love with me you are,” he smirked, stepping forward to pull you into a hug. His voice softened, lips brushing against your temple. “Just so you know… I feel the exact same way.”

Seonghwa

Seonghwa had been tidying up the bedroom when he heard you in the next room, talking on the phone. At first, he wasn’t paying much attention—just the usual sounds of you chatting with your friend. But then, your words made him freeze mid-folding a sweater.

“He’s literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” you said, voice full of emotion. “He takes care of me so well, and I don’t just mean the little things like making sure I eat or bringing me a blanket when I fall asleep on the couch. It’s the way he looks at me, the way he always knows what to say when I’m feeling down. I swear, I’ve never felt more loved in my entire life.”

Seonghwa blinked, his heart squeezing in his chest. A slow, affectionate smile spread across his lips. He felt warmth blooming inside him, like a soft glow radiating through his entire body. He hadn’t realized how deeply his love had touched you, how much his little acts of care meant.

When you ended the call and walked into the bedroom, you nearly yelped when you found him just standing there, staring at you with starry eyes.

“Uh… Hwa?” you questioned, raising a brow.

“I love you,” he blurted, stepping forward to cup your cheeks. “So much. I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

You laughed, leaning into his touch. “Of course, I do. Did you… overhear?”

He nodded, suddenly a bit shy. “I wasn’t trying to, but…”

You smiled, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly. “Good. Now you know.”

Yunho

Yunho had just come back from the gym, a towel slung around his neck as he grabbed a water bottle from the fridge. He was about to call out for you when he heard your voice from the other room.

“I swear, I don’t know how I got so lucky,” you gushed, sounding almost dreamy. “Yunho is the most amazing person I’ve ever met. He’s kind, he’s funny, and he always knows how to cheer me up. I could be having the worst day, and one hug from him makes everything better. And don’t even get me started on how ridiculously handsome he is.”

Yunho nearly choked on his water. He felt his ears turn red as he stood frozen in the kitchen, your words playing on a loop in his head. He always knew you loved him, but hearing you talk about him like that when you thought he wasn’t around? It made his heart swell to the point of bursting.

When you finally walked into the kitchen, you found him staring at you with the goofiest grin.

“What?” you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“You think I’m ridiculously handsome?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

Your face turned bright red. “Wait… you… Yunho, did you eavesdrop on my call?!”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug and lifting you off the ground. “I love you too,” he murmured against your hair, still grinning. “And for the record, I think you’re ridiculously beautiful.”

Yeosang

Yeosang had been playing a game with his headphones on, but when he heard your laughter from the other room, he instinctively lowered the volume. He liked hearing you happy.

“I swear, I don’t even know how to put it into words,” you were saying. “Yeosang is just… he’s my safe place. He might not always say a lot, but the way he loves me is so obvious. Every little thing he does is just filled with love, you know? He makes me feel like I’m the most important person in the world.”

Yeosang’s hand paused on his controller. His heart pounded, a rush of warmth spreading through him. He had always been a bit more reserved when it came to expressing his feelings, but you understood him so well.

He didn’t say anything when you came back into the room, just looked at you with soft, shining eyes before reaching out and pulling you onto his lap.

“Yeo?” you blinked in surprise.

“I’m glad you know how much I love you,” he murmured, nuzzling into your shoulder. “I don’t always say it, but… you’re my most important person too.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I know.”

San

San had been lying on the couch, scrolling through his phone when he heard your voice from the bedroom. He wasn’t really paying attention until he caught his name, and then suddenly, nothing else existed except your words.

“I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone this much before,” you admitted, your voice a little shy but full of warmth. “San is just… he’s the sweetest, most affectionate, most loving person I’ve ever met. I know he likes to act all tough sometimes, but he’s got the softest heart. He makes me feel safe. Like, I could be in the worst mood, and one hug from him fixes everything. He’s my home.”

San felt like his heart had just been shot with a thousand love arrows. His hands went to his chest instinctively, as if to physically hold in the overwhelming feeling bubbling up inside him. He always showered you with love, but to hear you talk about him like this? He had no idea you saw him that way.

Without thinking, he practically sprinted into the bedroom and flung himself at you, wrapping you up in the tightest hug.

“SAN?! What what are you doing?” you gasped, trying to keep your balance.

“I love you,” he whined dramatically, burying his face in your neck. “I love you so much.”

You blinked in confusion. “Did you- wait, did you hear what I said?”

He nodded frantically. “Yes, and I think my heart exploded, so now you have to deal with me being extra clingy.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. “That’s nothing new.”

San only hummed in satisfaction, holding you as close as possible. “Just never stop loving me, okay?”

“Never.”

Mingi

Mingi had just come out of the shower, towel around his neck, when he heard you talking on the phone. He had planned to dry his hair, but the second he heard you saying his name, he froze.

“I know he can be a little shy sometimes,” you were saying with a fond chuckle. “But Mingi loves so deeply. He’s the kind of person who just… feels everything with his whole heart. I see it in the way he looks at me, the way he holds my hand even when we’re just sitting on the couch. He makes me feel like the most loved person in the world, and honestly, I don’t think I could ever get tired of him.”

Mingi stood there, gripping his towel like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. His ears were burning, his heart pounding. He always worried that he wasn’t good at expressing himself, that maybe you didn’t know just how much he loved you but hearing you say that? It made every insecurity vanish.

When you hung up and turned around, Mingi was standing there, wide-eyed and pink-faced.

“…Mingi?”

His lips wobbled into a sheepish smile. “So… you don’t think you could ever get tired of me?”

Your eyes widened. “Oh my god, you heard that?”

He nodded, suddenly shy, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh… I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but…”

You smiled and walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Good. Now you know how much I love you.”

Mingi let out a breathy chuckle before hugging you tightly. “I love you too. So much.”

Wooyoung

Wooyoung had been lounging on the bed, absentmindedly playing with his phone when he heard you talking in the next room. Normally, he’d mind his own business but the moment he heard his name, his ears perked up like a cat’s.

“I don’t think people realize just how soft Wooyoung is,” you were saying. “He’s all teasing and chaos on the outside, but with me? He’s the gentlest person ever. He always knows when I need comfort, and he never hesitates to show me how much he loves me. He makes me feel so adored. It’s like… no matter where I am, as long as I’m with him, I know I belong.”

Wooyoung felt like he just got shot by Cupid’s arrow a million times over. His hand flew to his chest dramatically, and he let out a silent scream into his pillow before getting up and practically running to where you were.

The moment you turned around, he tackled you into a hug, spinning you in circles.

“WOOYOUNG!” you shrieked, laughing. “What are you doing?!”

“I LOVE YOU!” he declared, setting you down only to cup your face dramatically. “You really think all that about me? That I make you feel like you belong?”

Your cheeks turned warm. “Wait, you heard…?”

“Oh, I heard,” he grinned. “And now I feel so loved that I might just cry.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart melted at his reaction. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he sang, kissing your forehead.

You sighed, smiling. “Yeah. I really do.”

Jongho

Jongho had been sitting on the couch, quietly reading a book, when he heard you talking in the other room. Normally, he wouldn’t pay much attention, but then he heard his name and suddenly, the book in his hands wasn’t so interesting anymore.

“I know he doesn’t always say a lot,” you were telling your friend, voice filled with warmth. “But Jongho loves in a way that’s so steady and strong. I never have to doubt it. He always makes me feel secure, like I have someone I can lean on no matter what. And the way he looks at me sometimes… I don’t think he realizes how much he says with just his eyes. I’ve never felt so safe with anyone before.”

Jongho swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the book. He wasn’t the type to get flustered easily, but your words hit him straight in the heart. He always tried to show his love in quiet ways, but hearing that you truly felt it without him having to say much meant everything.

When you came back into the living room, you noticed him staring at you with a soft but intense gaze.

“Jongho?” you asked, tilting your head.

Without a word, he reached out, gently pulling you down onto the couch beside him. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you against his chest in a rare, lingering embrace.

“Whoa, what’s this for?” you murmured, surprised but not complaining.

“…I heard you,” he admitted quietly.

Your face warmed. “Oh.”

Jongho sighed, resting his chin on top of your head. “You really don’t have to worry. I’ll always be here for you.”

Your heart melted as you snuggled closer. “I know.

And that was all that needed to be said.

[saturnscafe]

͙˚ ༘✶Tangled | Snake Monsters (Female Reader)

Smut Below

A/N: After writing a snake fic for my main, I’ve desperately been needing more in my life. So I hope you enjoy. Also sorry if there’s any spelling mistakes, i literally wrote this on the fly in like 5 mins 😅

-🪐

You had heard the folk lore about these giant snake like monsters in these woods but you thought they were just that. Folk lore.

You sat up your tent and camera to get good shots of the meteor shower that was supposed to happen. However you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. You chalked it up to you being out in the woods alone which in itself was kinda dumb on your part. These pictures though were important for the papers you were writing for.

You took a seat on the small folding chair that you had and started a small fire. As night fell you turned your camera on where it would take pictures at random times through the night. You leaned back just staring up at the beautiful night sky. After a moment you had fallen asleep only to be woken up by a warm taking over you.

Hands touched at your body, multiple sets of hands. As you blinked your eyes open you could see a dozen men standing over you all with beautiful gold eyes. You blinked again trying to figure out if you were dreaming. When they focused you could see how those beautiful eyes were different. They had slits in them almost like snakes? ‘Shit’ you thought to yourself ‘there’s no fucking way those stories were true.’ To your shock they were.

A stunning long snake made its way up to you before transforming right in front of your eyes. He was just as stunning as a ‘human’. He cupped your face his fork tongue licking against his lips. “The goddess’s heard our plea, they have brought us a mate” he said.

“M-mate?” You said confused. The whole ordeal has you confused. You should be scared, even the smallest bit. You weren’t though, you were intrigued by these captivating men before you.

“Yes beautiful, you’re our mate that the gods have given to us.” He said before moving closer to you. “We’ll take care of you, and be gentle” he said before crashing his lips to your own. His mouth moved over yours fork tongue darting between your lips. The others came around hands ridding you of any clothes you had on swiftly. You felt a small nibble against your shoulder before a sharp pleasurable pain. You moaned into the kiss feeling your body become hot. You almost felt like you were on fire. A set of hands came down pulling your legs apart before you felt a set of lips attach themself to your wet core.

Other hands came to grope at your breast and ass. Anything they could get their hands on they were touching. When the man pulled away he smiled down at you with drunken eyes. “Our pretty mate, I must forgive myself I haven’t even told you my name. I’m Soren.” He said his voice smooth. The others all around perked up stopping what they were doing to introduce themselves. They all apologized sweetly for not doing so in the first place. “And what is your name beautiful?” Soren asked.

“Y/n” you said in almost a whisper.

“As beautiful as you are” Soren smiled before locking into another heated kiss with you. His tongue lapped at the inside of your mouth as the other resumed what they were doing. The man below was eating you out like it was his last meal. His long forked tongue pushing into your sopping cunt flicking itself against your walls. You felt another prick of pain before another wave of heat washed over you. Your body was becoming so sensitive, every touch made your body just want more.

Another man came to the side of you speaking softly into your ear “our bites will prepare you for us, make sure you’re able to take both of our cocks. You’ll be like a bitch in heat” he said with a soft chuckle. He was right, your body was burning up. It felt like If you didn’t get one of them inside you soon your body would explode.

When Soren pulled away again he moved the man below away. You whined at the loss making Soren grin “don’t worry mate, I’ll give you something better.” He said. It didn’t click until now what the man had said ‘both of our cocks.’ When you looked down you could see one smaller cock and one bigger cock. You moaned at the sight your head falling back onto the other man behind you. Soren pushed the head of the almost tentacle like cock into you. He groaned at the feeling of your warm walls finally surrounding him. His strong hands gripped at your thighs before pushing in the full way his smaller cock now rubbing against your clit.

Your body felt overwhelmed already, your first orgasm snuck up on you unexpectedly cumming fast around his cock. It only drove him to move faster. His cock head hitting against your cervix. The others stood by watching stroking themselves to the sight of their leader fucking into you. “Fuck- you’re so perfect” Soren moaned out.

The others moved a bit closer, wanting to watch how your face contorted In pleasure. Soren fucked into you faster feeling himself getting lost in your warm walls. Reluctantly he pulled himself from you letting one of the others take his place. When he pulled away he came to your side cupping your face in his hands. “They all get a turn but no one is allowed to mate fully with you. I’m the only one who will get to fill you” he said with a grin.

He layed behind you, pulling your body against his as the others took their turns. It was agreed upon if they did find a mate, he was the only one to be allowed to breed you. However with that deal meant the others would be allowed to mate with you as well. It was hard finding a mate, so a lot of the snakes formed groups. Normally they’d just let whoever got to the mate first breed them but they were different. Soren had been a great warrior in his time. He freed all of them from a life of torture and imprisonment. So they all looked at him as a higher ranking person.

The man above you fucked into you sloppily he was already so close, it being his first time to ever mate. Your walls were sucking him so well he could help himself. He quickly pulled out cumming on your stomach. He slowly moved from you letting another take his place. The cycle continued. They all head their turns. Fucking into your wet cunt before letting the other have their turn. Soren laid behind you holding you close to him. He would whisper “you’re doing so well” and “you’re such a good mate.” He ran his hands over you leaving small kisses to your back and nipping at your neck.

You lost track of how many orgasms washed over you. Your body twitching at the overstimulation however it never hurt. The only thing you could feel was the mass amounts of pleasure from all their cocks stretching you out. When it was finally Soren’s turn once more he kissed you gentle before moving to your core once more. “Our pretty mate did so well yeah? One last time and we’ll take a long rest hmm? You can take on more right beautiful.” He said sweetly. You nodded wanting to feel him once more.

He slowly pushed himself into you before quickening his pace. His hand came down to play with your abused clit making your body shake around him. He pulled out slightly only to push both of his cocks into you. The new sensation of feeling so full had you cumming once more. “T’much” you whimpered out.

“You can take it right mate? You’ve been doing so good just a little more and we’ll rest hmm?” He said before leaning down to kiss you softly. However he didn’t move until you nodded. When he did move the fullness really sunk in. His cocks were hitting your cervix at a fast rate. His cupped your face once more making you look at him. “I’m gonna fill you full yeah? Gonna be even prettier with a swollen belly” he said. Your eyes flickered feeling small tears pricking at the pleasure.

“Gonna take it all f’me?” He asked.

“Y-yes ah- ah please- breed me” you moaned out and that was it. He lost it. His movements became sloppy his glazed over eyes faltered before pushing himself as deep as he could go. Cumming hard inside you, hot streams of cum painting your walls. You came for the umpteenth time before your body felt almost jello like. When he finally pulled out he smiled down at you. You were surprised when he did you didn’t feel any of the cum leaking out. He must of somehow read your mind “some of us can produce plugs so no others can mate with you.” He said pulling you to him. The others rushed to your side tangling into a cuddle pile.

They all sung you praises peppering your body with soft kisses. One of the men cleaned your body, another grabbed you some sweet liquid. Which they said would help replenish your body and make sure you weren’t sore after their venom wore off. Soren kissed your cheek softly before you nuzzled into his embrace. Your head lying in the crook of his neck.

When you blinked your eyes you could see the meteor shower over head. Smiling, you felt content right now. Content to be their mate.

[etherealhannie]

( oneshot ) ،، kiss me , you idiot ،، ⌇ 민규

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" are we dating now , or do i still need to bribe you with food to hang out with me ? " .ᐟ 🫙

pairing .ᐟ bestfriend-now-boyfriend!mingyu × fem!reader genre .ᐟ childhood best friends to lovers au , same mess yet lil sweeter word count .ᐟ 1.3k song rec. .ᐟ ─

note .ᐟ witness this , not experiences it . 😞🖐🏻

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Mingyu stood in front of Y/N’s door, fidgeting with the strap of his backpack. He'd been here a thousand times before, so why was his heart racing like a middle schooler about to confess for the first time?

Maybe because, in a way, he was.

Y/N had been his best friend since childhood—the one who used to push him off swings, steal his food, and tease him relentlessly for being taller than everyone else. Their friendship was pure chaos from the start, and that never changed as they grew up. If anything, it only got worse. But somewhere along the line, Mingyu started noticing little things. Like the way his heart beat faster when Y/N laughed at his jokes or the pang of jealousy he felt when she talked about other guys. And the kicker? He realized that he didn’t just love Y/N as a best friend—he was in love with her.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked. Before he could second-guess his entire life, the door flung open, and there she was, grinning mischievously. "Late as usual, Kim Mingyu."

"I’m literally three minutes early!" he protested, stepping inside her apartment. He couldn’t help but smile, though. This was their thing—bantering, teasing, and laughing their way through life. He loved it. And he was about to ruin it all by admitting he liked her.

"You ready for movie night?" Y/N asked, bouncing onto the couch and kicking her feet up. She tossed him the remote like it was a reflex.

"Actually..." Mingyu rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly nervous. "I wanted to talk to you about something first."

Y/N paused, the grin fading just a little. "Uh-oh, serious face. Should I be worried?"

"No, no. Well, maybe? I don't know." Mingyu was making this worse, wasn’t he? He took a deep breath, sitting down beside her. "You know how we've always... had this, uh, thing?"

"What thing?" she teased, clearly not sensing the gravity of the situation.

"This... chaotic, fun thing between us." He waved his hands in the air, trying to find the right words. "But also, I’ve realized it’s not just chaotic and fun for me anymore. It’s more."

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in playful confusion. "More like what? Are you saying you want to rob a bank together? Or maybe start a prank war?"

Mingyu huffed, shaking his head with a nervous chuckle. Leave it to Y/N to make even his serious moments feel like a joke. "No, I’m saying..." He inhaled sharply. "I like you, Y/N. Like, really like you. More than just friends."

Silence stretched between them for a moment. Y/N blinked at him, her usual quick-wittedness seemingly gone for the first time in their long friendship.

"Oh," she finally said, breaking the stillness.

Mingyu’s heart sank. "Oh?"

"No, I mean—" Y/N suddenly burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. "You... you were so nervous! You looked like you were about to explode!" She reached over, ruffling his hair like she always did when teasing him.

Mingyu’s mouth dropped open. "Wait. You're... laughing? I just confessed to you!"

Y/N bit her lip, trying to suppress her laughter, but she was failing miserably. "Mingyu, you dork. I know."

"You know?"

"Yeah, you’re not exactly subtle," she said, grinning. "I've noticed for a while now. You think I wouldn’t catch on to the way you blush whenever I tease you? Or how you always seem extra flustered when I call you cute?"

Mingyu felt heat rise to his cheeks. "Then why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I was waiting for you to figure it out and tell me, obviously," Y/N replied matter-of-factly, still smirking. "Besides, it’s way more fun watching you squirm."

He groaned, covering his face with his hands. "I can't believe this."

"Hey, at least now it's out in the open," Y/N said, pulling his hands away from his face. Her tone softened, and there was a sparkle in her eyes that made Mingyu’s heart flip. "And, for the record, I like you too."

Mingyu’s brain short-circuited. "Wait, what?"

She smiled softly, this time without the teasing edge. "Yeah. I like you, you big idiot. I’ve liked you for a while."

"You could've told me," he said, still trying to process what was happening. His heart was hammering in his chest, a mix of disbelief and joy.

Y/N shrugged. "Where's the fun in that?"

He stared at her for a beat before his lips curled into a grin. "So... what now?"

"Now," Y/N said, sitting back against the couch, "we continue our usual chaos. Except now we get to kiss and be all gross and couple-y too."

Mingyu laughed, the relief washing over him like a tidal wave. "You're the worst, you know that?"

"And you're stuck with me," Y/N replied, poking his side. "Now, come here and let me give you your first official couple smooch."

Before Mingyu could react, Y/N had pulled him in, pressing a quick, playful kiss to his lips. It was so casual, like something they'd done a million times before, but it sent his heart soaring all the same.

"So," he said, pulling back slightly, "does this mean I can kiss you whenever I want now?"

"Within reason," she teased, poking his chest. "Don’t go overboard, Kim Mingyu. We still have a movie to watch."

But Mingyu had other plans. With a mischievous grin, he leaned in again, this time capturing her lips in a deeper kiss. It wasn’t just playful now; it was soft, sweet, and filled with all the feelings he’d been bottling up for months.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N's cheeks were pink, and she looked slightly flustered—a rare sight. "Okay," she breathed, "maybe you can kiss me a little more than I thought."

Mingyu laughed, his heart feeling lighter than it had in ages. "See? Told you it’s better when we’re a couple."

"Debatable," Y/N shot back, but the smile on her face told him she didn’t really mean it.

Over the next few weeks, their relationship didn’t change much. They still bickered, teased each other relentlessly, and pulled pranks like they always had. The only difference now was the added sweetness—the way Mingyu would wrap his arm around her waist as they walked, or how Y/N would absentmindedly reach for his hand while they were talking. It was chaotic, but it worked. It was them.

One evening, they were at a friend’s housewarming party, and as usual, chaos ensued. Mingyu and Y/N were being their usual loud selves, debating over something trivial—this time, it was about who could make a better spaghetti carbonara.

"I'm telling you, you put way too much garlic in it!" Y/N said, waving her hands around dramatically.

"It’s called flavor, Y/N. Ever heard of it?" Mingyu shot back, rolling his eyes.

Their friends were used to their antics by now, but someone asked, "Do you guys ever fight about anything real? Or is it all just spaghetti and who can prank better?"

Mingyu and Y/N exchanged a glance before bursting out laughing. "We don’t really fight," Y/N said between giggles. "But if we ever did, I’d win. Obviously."

"You wish," Mingyu said, pulling her into a side hug, his voice dripping with playful affection.

"You guys are disgustingly cute," their friend groaned, shaking their head.

"Well, it’s either this or complete chaos," Mingyu replied, grinning down at Y/N. "And trust me, you don’t want the chaos."

Y/N elbowed him in the ribs, laughing as he feigned injury. "Ow, see? She’s violent!"

"Only when necessary," Y/N said with a wink, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

Mingyu beamed, pulling her closer. He never thought falling for his best friend could feel this... right. It was the same chaos, the same playfulness, but now it came with a sweetness that made his heart feel full.

And as long as he had Y/N by his side—whether they were fighting over spaghetti or teasing each other about literally anything—he was more than happy to be caught in the mess.

[shy-writer-999]

Hi I saw your post about Law’s happy trail!! I was wondering if you would write something based off of that? Like if the reader really likes it they would always tell Law how hot it is during sex then he would get shy and not believe them and it would end up messing up his performance🤭🤭

oh my wordddd please. yes i will write something about this of course… that man has been on my mind an ungodly amount. i just word vomited this onto the page, apologies if it's messy!

Law's happy trail 🥴

Law was fucking you in missionary when he realized you were staring at it. His happy trail. You couldn’t help it.

The black hair crept from its thick ring around the base of his cock, travelling up his lower abdomen, where it thinned out and disappeared at his belly button. There was something so masculine about the wiry strands playing up his body, manly whisps that accented and emphasized how toned and sleek he was. His happy trail rolled and grinded into you along with his hips and cock—it was mesmerizing.

You always thought it was hot. I mean, he’s just hot in general so of course it was hot. But in that moment some fascination struck you. You were laser focused on it.

“Fuck, Law,” you panted his name between moans. “Your happy trail is so fucking hot.”

It took a moment for him to register what you said. He froze. “What?”

“I said your happy trail is fucking hot.”

Your eyes flashed up from his abdomen to his eyes. Law was bright red, poised over you. He didn’t know what to say back—were you making fun of him? What did you mean?

Law resumed rocking his hips into you and your eyes went back to watching his happy trail, abs, and cock grind into you. Sweet sounds kept falling from your lips and Law fucked you a moment more, but then he froze again.

He pulled out and collapsed on the bed next to you, looking up at the ceiling. He was blushing so hard you thought he’d explode.

“Are you okay, Law? What happened?”

“Your comment about my… happy trail.”

“What about it? It’s hot, Law.”

More blood rushed to his cheeks. “Are you sure?”

“What? Of course I’m sure. You’re gorgeous, Law. I was just admiring the view.”

He turned to you. His eyes looked distraught, he was crimson, and his brows were bent at the middle.

“I just got a bit insecure.” Law averted his eyes again.

“Babbbyyyy, please believe me.” You got on top of him and peppered his face with kisses. “I’m not lying to you. You’re just so sexy I can’t take my eyes off you.” When you smiled sweetly like this, his heart melted.

He groaned. “Alright sweetheart, I believe you. C’mere.” Law brought his hands up to cup your cheeks and kissed you tenderly. He rutted his erection up, sliding it through your wet and inflamed folds.

You smiled and snuck a hand down, passing over Law’s happy trail with your hand and then grasping his shaft. You stroked him for a second and he let a whine out in your mouth as you exchanged sloppy kisses.

“I need you.” He groaned again and you positioned his cock at your entrance, slowly sliding down on him with a whine. You braced your palms on his abdomen and rode him until he came inside you.

When you cuddled after sex, you passed your hand over his happy trail a couple more times and he blushed every time. “It tickles a little bit,” he said gruffly. “But if you like it, I like it.”

---

(*ﾉ∀`*)

guys i think you are all witnessing my thigh fetish in real life. idk where i got this shit. im sorry to subject you to it. but its here. this ^^ happy trail writing falls under the umbrella of the thigh thing, in my mind. that’s what we’re going to call it. the thigh thing. i literally wanna bite and chomp on the happy trail like a rabid dog

[confessioncassette]

𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

Part 1

“you and me alone in the dark, forever i stay, with you”

summary : after having a drug fueled revelation on his life, Thanos decided to create a private account. For weeks, this account was his sanctuary where he could “unplug” from the normalities of his life of partying. With no one to watch him, no one to make fun of what his interests were, he posted snippets of his daily life and created an algorithm that suited his secret interests. And one day, he had stumbled upon you.

tw : taking drugs, pinning, not proof read, reader knows little Korean

words : 5.7k

notes : this is a longer version of my drabble. In this specific AU (without the games), I wrote Thanos as someone who longs for a bond and needs someone to understand him on a deeper level. This maybe out of character juuuust a tad from him in the games, but this is what I feel like he would be as Choi Subong rather than Thanos.

“I tried this shit a while back and it’s wild, bro.”

Nam-Gyu sits cross legged on the floor before his friend, an outstretched hand pedestals two little colorful tablets in his palm. Thanos eyes widen, lips curling downward as he shifts over his tailbone.

“Don’t give me that shit,” the black haired man pushed the other playfully, “trust me, I wouldn’t give you this if I didn’t already know what it felt like. It was eye-opening, bro.”

Thanos shakes his head, “I don't know bro, I’ve never taken something like that before.”

Nam-Gyu clicks his tongue, “just trust me. I’m taking it with you.” His eyes shift to look at the ceiling, trying to find the right words. “It's similar to shrooms,” he muses, “Plus, I’m a good trip guide. I won’t let you do any crazy shit.”

Thanos stares at the colorful tablets laid before him, contemplating if this was a good idea. It’s not like he hasn’t tried this stuff before, or worse, but this was newer on the market and Nam-Gyu’s past of harder drugs doesn’t set his mind at ease.

“For real, you won’t end up in the street naked or anything. When I tried this a few months back, it literally saved me, bro. It was like, like uh, like I saw all the beauty in the world…” He paused sheepishly before adding, “or some shit.”

Nam-Gyu smiles, “look, I don’t do hard shit anymore, you know this.”

Which was true, Thanos thought. They’ve tried almost everything under the sun when it came to experimenting when they first met, with the exception of needles when it came to Thanos. When it came to trying newer drugs, Su-bong was extra cautious about them being laced. But, his friend is trying it with him, and he’s done it before… what could go wrong?

”This was the same batch you tried before?”

”Yeah, I saved these last two for just us.”

”I take just one?”

”Just one.”

The purple haired man takes a tablet with confidence and pops it in his mouth.

“Now let it dissolve over your tongue,” Nam-Gyu follows his friend by taking the tablet, which eases the other.

“How long will it take?” Thanos lets out a breath, sinking his back to the floor. His friend follows suit, flopping his body to the floor beside him to stare at the ceiling in Thanos’s high rise apartment.

“Won’t be long, bro. Just enjoy the ride.”

The lights in the apartment were already dim. The faint glow of purple LED lights and the twinkle of the night sky of Seoul made a soft atmosphere. The high was gradual but overwhelmingly apparent. Thanos’s body flooded with an initial rush of adrenaline, causing his body to buzz. Time felt all-being, fast as light but slow as molasses, and his body was just an anomaly between it all.

The emotions inside his mind bursted at the seams, exploding with undescribable love and admiration for life. The fleeting thought deep within his mind made him realize that he’s never truly felt appreciative of life before, but he chose to ignore it. How could he ignore the overwhelming excitement for living? This is beautiful. His friend was beautiful, his apartment was beautiful, these lights were mesmerizing.

He stared at Seoul’s skyline for what felt like hours, completely entranced in the way they sparkled. Neon lights flashing on billboards, the barely-there stars peeking through the city’s light pollution. Maybe one day he’ll see the night sky for real and count every star up there. How come he had never realized how beautiful the city was? The people in the street enjoying food, groups sticking together on a night out, a couple hugging each other in an intimate moment and forgetting the world around them.

He wanted to find love like this. Could this feeling be love? Is this what it felt like to appreciate everything he had been through? He had never felt this love with another human being before, but he can remember the last time he had felt love.

When he was a child, he loved to create. This mostly came through rapping and making music, but he also adored creating through drawing and painting. He loved to dance, he loved to express himself in any way possible through a form of art.

Maybe he had lacked this as he got older. With tough times and life experiences, he began to revert inside himself. In school, he got in with the wrong crowd, tried drugs and got hooked at a young age. He became rebellious, ultimately becoming the leader of the pack. He still created music, though, but it was the only mask he had. Rapping got him exclusive invitations to more popular crowds. He had spiraled and partied regularly before it became a lifestyle.

A new girl every night and waking up with regret, on a vicious cycle of drugs and alcohol, partying way past sunrise and waking up just when the sun began to set.

Was he proud of it? He’s lived this life for too long to remember, so he couldn’t tell.

Did he even have his own conscious? Did his lifestyle dull his senses to what really matters? He can’t tell.

All he could feel was right now, this moment in the lick of time. And time was fleeting.

-

Choi Su-bong woke up the next night alone on his couch. He blinked, once, twice before reaching for his phone on the floor beside him. Cringing at the bright screen and scrolling through notifications, Nam-Gyu had left a text a few hours ago.

남규 🙈 (4:14 pm) : I left earlier to make an appointment. I checked on u before i left to make sure ur alive lol i also locked the door. Txt me when you wake

Sighing and rolling on his back, Su-bong sent a response to notify that he was okay before switching apps.

Instagram was his first choice, per usual, and he was immediately flooded with his fellow idols and influencer ‘friends’' posts. Flashy cars, luxurious dinners, lavish outfits that cost hundreds of dollars… it was always the same. He swallowed, noticing his mouth withered before discarding his phone once again over the fur carpet.

It was Friday night, the start to a weekend, where he would usually get up to shower and head out to the high scale clubs to meet with friends. But tonight he only hopped in the shower to cleanse himself and threw on a hoodie and sweats, because he cringed at the thought of doing anything else.

Sitting alone on his plush couch, tv faintly glowing in the back, he racked his brain on his experience from yesterday. It’s actually surprising that he didn’t feel the effects still. It must have been a short term high.

Though short term, it had lasting effects on his system. His thought process tonight was completely different from normal. No doom scrolling, waking up craving immediate numbness or even hungover. Maybe it was time for a wake up call, and this was what he needed. And to think that he was hesitant at first to take them.

He was tired of the surface level relationships and everything that came with that. His entire adult life had been a blur, a ticking time bomb with fleeting memories. Sure, times were fun, but waking up each day feeling like his body got pummeled by a train wasn’t…fun.

He missed art. He missed making music that came from his heart. He missed creating. Not this senselessness that made him fit in.

Pulling out his phone, Su-bong’s slender fingers tapped along the screen.

Create a new account

The blue letters stared back at him, and he was eager to press. Pursing his lips, he contemplates a new name. And why was thinking of anything original so hard right now? It felt like a ghostly pressure, but this was his first choice he’s consciously made in years. Was it really that hard?

He lets out an airy laugh, “shibal.”

Pattering his colorful fingernails along the screen, he came up with Mystic_Legend.

Was it original to his persona? No. But he liked it that way. It was a little ode to himself, but honoring his attachment.

He kept the profile blank for now, not opting to add a profile picture.

This was a clean slate. The explore page filled with vacation pictures of palm trees next to private pools, someone cooking a healthy meal for their family, a few memes - but what caught his attention was a beautiful art piece hung along a blank wall.

What he could perceive as a skinless torso without the flesh, unmasked and slimy twisting up like a tornado. Brilliant hues of blue and dusty grey explode through the top like a cloud exploding and expanding. Thanos was mesmerized by the painting. He’d never seen anything like this before.

His whole body stalled as his eyes scan every detail of the picture for a while. His mind races with thoughts of what could this be? What was the artist interpreting?

But maybe it wasn’t up for interpretation, maybe it was to feel.

What he felt was a tainted soul blossoming into something new.

This was a deep connection, a coincidence to a new path of life.

A beginning.

-

Su-bong spent less time on social media in the following weeks. From what used to be entertaining fans through comments, responding to DM’s, collaborating with other big artists and liking videos of his appearances and shows to spending most of his time on his burner account.

He had grown an algorithm catered to interests long forgotten and had followed things that genuinely interested him. From thousands of followers to zero, from following a few hundred to 13. It was refreshing, to Su-bong. Something he had needed.

No followers didn’t stop him from posting his daily routine. It was rather fun, actually. Posting things that he was doing without having thousands of people watching his every move. It felt more invigorating to post things that were out of his online persona.

An americano from the cafe down the street, his weights at the gym, his record collection, his at-home studio setup, a new pair of shoes he just bought, a colorful sunset from his apartment, a video of him filming the Han River as he went on a run.

He found a new love in posting things that caught his eye, a new love for things he didn’t really see before.

Nam-Gyu was always around, too. Like usual, he’d stop by the apartment to share a drink or smoke a blunt. The two would watch movies and order take out every few days, leaving Nam-Gyu to pass out on the couch for the night. The bond they shared was always special in regards to the fakeness of the crowd Thanos hung around, so it was natural and comfortable keeping him close.

Though, he’d never share the burner account. That was solely his.

Thanos would still keep a presence online through his main account, but not as much. Fans would ask if things were okay on his posts, but he never responded to those. He did his tasks led by management and kept his social life relatively strong to cause any other suspicion.

However, he did loosen the reins on making appearances. In a span of 2 weeks, he didn’t show up to any night clubs or perform at any shows, much to his managers' dislike. However, he continued to make music, music like he’s never created before.

His new routine would be spending hours in his guest bedroom/home studio making music from his soul. Raps about love and heartbreak, about a life he feels like he’d never lived. Raps about living vicariously through movies, how he longs for companionship but can’t seem to allow himself. Raw emotions would flow, allowing himself to set in a new territory of his mind and heart.

It was like therapy. Years of burden lifted off his shoulder poured into his music. Sometimes angry and intense, spitting painful memories and emotions through the mic - and others loving and soft, thoughtful for genuine affection.

Choi Su-bong felt at ease for the first time since he was a child.

Nestled in his king bed, damp hair draping over his brow, he scrolled through his explore page.

A beautiful face he had scrolled past.

Scrolling back up, he tapped on your picture with lightning speed.

A simple photo, but unremarkable. You posed in a simple dress that accentuated your body modestly, holding the phone up to take a selfie in a park.

Officially 1 month in Seoul!

Seoul? You’re here?

Swiping to your profile, he noticed that you didn’t have much. With only following barely over a hundred people and less than 40 followers, you were an anomaly.

You didn’t even have a caption, just a simple text heart emoji under your name.

Your profile had only 12 photos and 2 of which were you. The rest had been photos of your adventures. A photo of a record store, good food you had tried here in Korea, and pictures of landscapes.

Thanos eagerly tapped on the second photo of you.

You were in bed, phone angled high to capture your beauty with flash, holding a plush animal.

I rewarded myself with a friend today

Su-bong swelled, grinning to himself. The plushie you had looked soft, tuffs of its fur touching your cheek as you smiled sweetly back at him. Scrolling down, he found your first post of an airplane illuminated under airport lights.

Today, I start fresh. I’m nervous. #movingtokorea

Checking the date, you had posted this 2 months ago. You must have moved here recently and are living in the same city as him.

Running slender fingers through his hair, Su-Bong considered interacting with you or not. He had scrolled up to see your face at least a dozen times, practically stalking your entire page. Unable to control his emotions, Thanos buzzed with adrenaline.

He’s made the first move countless of times, but not in a… specific way like this. He never had a problem getting the girl he desired for the night, and he never had to try hard at that. This was a completely different situation.

He didn’t want that type of relationship with you. He felt it reverberating deep within his bones. He wanted more than that. Looking through the screen into your eyes marked him in a way he could never describe in words. It was a pulling, a chain that linked and locked with a click deep in his soul.

One message couldn’t hurt? Right? You didn’t even know who he was, or what society had written about him. You didn’t know his past, his current or even his name.

Would it be weird sending you a message? He doesn’t think he could even cope with being left on read by you.

This was fate, this was more than limerence - it was affinity.

-

You sigh, plopping yourself over your couch and covering yourself with a blanket.

Your apartment was small and barren. It was nothing to look at, but it was home. Little trinkets line your bookshelf in the corner of your living room glow under the tv’s light. Scrolling through your apps, you select a comfort show from your childhood and unwind.

Starting a new life in Seoul wasn’t on your bingo card a year ago, but you had made the rash decision for a job with decent pay. You had never left home, so why not take an adventure to see if you could do it? The best part of all of this was that you always had the decision to move back, or move somewhere else completely.

It was beginning to feel like home, though. It was the perfect amount of space you needed and the environment was a perfect mix of introverted activities and extroverted. You had the freedom to become a hermit, but also had the option to go out if you so please. You lived in a part of the city where you could walk to work, dine and drink down the street. You also lived in an area close to bars if you ever felt the need to socialize.

It was beginning to feel like home after 2 months. Your job was easy to follow, despite you not being an expert in Korean. The people were nice, though they were curious and stared. You stuck out like a sore thumb with your demeanor, but you were becoming accustomed quickly, better than you thought you would.

You should be going out tonight, but you don’t feel ready yet. You should be getting dolled up to enjoy a night of fun, but… this was fun for now. Cuddled up in your cozy apartment after a long week at work.

The tv muffled in the background as you stared out your window, appreciating the skyline.

Your phone buzzes against your tight, drawing you from your thoughts.

Mystic_Legend wants to send you a message

Your brow furrows at the notification, but you’re anxious to see the message. You had little to no lies from your home country, and no one knew you here in Korea. Must be a bot.

Mystic_Legend (9:56 pm) : 나는 당신의 사진을 좋아합니다

You blink, staring at the message in curiosity. Pulling up google on your phone you translate the sentence.

I like your photo

“Weird,” you mumble.

Another instagram notification pops up on your screen and you tap it.

Mystic_Legend (9:57 pm) : 최근에 한국에 도착 했나요? 당신은 그것을 좋아합니까?

Have you arrived in Korea recently? Do you like it?

Uneasiness bubbles within your gut. Wasn’t your profile private? You tap around your screen to double check - and it wasn’t. Curiosity got the best of you and you tap the users profile.

20 posts, 13 following and… zero followers.

An anomaly.

Scrolling through the users posts, you find random things. A pair of new shoes, a video of a hooded figure with his back turned to the camera playing on a soundboard, a picture of the person’s outfit, hat covered with a beanie and phone conveniently covering his face in the mirror. Filtering through more posts, you find the Seoul skyline at night, a deck of cards littering a coffee table, gym equipment and landscape photos.

“What the,” you sigh under your breath before another notification pops over the top of your screen.

Mystic_Legend (10:01 pm) : I’m sorry. I should have written in English.

Mystic_Legend (10:01 pm) : I like your photos. Did you recently move to Korea?

Your fingers hesitate before swiping across the screen to accept the messages.

You (10:02 pm) : Do I know you?

A typing bubble appears before disappearing for a few moments.

Mystic_Legend (10:03 pm) : No, I found you on explore page

Ahh, it clicked. But you won’t tell a stranger sensitive information, the whole situation is weird in the first place. You were hesitant to even respond, leaving the message on read while you stared at the screen.

Mystic_Legend (10:04 pm) : I’m Su-bong. Not a creep, I promise.

You (10:04 pm) : Nice to meet you. Thank you for liking my pictures.

Keeping it short and sweet, you lock your phone, hoping to leave the conversation at that, but your phone vibrates not once, but twice.

Mystic_Legend has followed you

Mystic_Legend (10:06 pm) : I could help you speak Korean, if you don’t know

You contemplate the message, looking at it on your Home Screen. You could use the help with your job and navigating the city. It wouldn’t hurt, right? You could have a native speaker help and just keep it at that. Just for the knowledge, of course. Keep it surface level.

You (10:07 pm) : That helps me, actually.

Mystic_Legend (10:07 pm) : Cool. 😎

Mystic_Legend (10:07 pm) : Maybe we could call?

You (10:08 pm) : Not tonight, it’s pretty late.

Mystic_Legend (10:09 pm) : That is okay, get your rest. We can speak tomorrow?

You (10:10 pm) : Sure.

Seen 10:10pm

You left it at that, and the stranger does too. You get ready for bed shortly after that, confused as to how anyone would even find you on the explore page. You weren’t a big account at all and hardly interacted with content on the app, so what had led to the discovery of your profile?

You did have similar interests, but that couldn’t be the only reason for him to message you.

Before closing your eyes, you tap the instagram application and go to the strangers profile and press follow.

-

It caused Su-bong physical pain to let you go to bed. He wanted to message you more, all night if he could. But you had agreed to a call tomorrow, and he was reeling with adrenaline.

Scanning over your photos in his darkened room overlooking the city lights, he couldn’t keep his gaze off the picture of you in the park. Turning over to lay on his side, a strangeness swells within his chest. It must have been stupid, only a virgin could react so strongly just by pictures and dry messages.

But something had told him this was everything he had been missing. Not ever had he looked at a girl with such a sweetness. He’d hooked up with models, influencers and everything in between, although not remembering most of the nights. He’d share hot kisses with wet tongues in night clubs, inviting high class women to his place to experiment something new, had intense sex fueled by molly, and even bent women over in grimy bathrooms.

This was not new to him, picking up women and getting what he wanted.

But the purity was.

Something swam in your eyes, mesmerizing him in a daze. Something fueled him to keep pushing, to dig deeper as to where this stems from.

You are beautiful, elegant and ethereal actually.

He’d hate himself forever if he didn’t try.

The buzz of a notification almost sends his heart leaping out of his chest to find that you had followed him back.

-

You didn’t hear from the stranger, or Su-bong overnight. To your conflicting disappointment, he wasn’t in the pile of notifications when you woke.

Something pulled you in. Men now-a-days have a large following, or a large number of who they follow. You didn’t mull this over to its extent last night, but when you checked his following, it was all art, photography and music accounts… all 13 of them. He didn’t have a profile picture, but the same silhouette showed continuously through his posts.

He didn’t have any followers, and this led you to think this was a secret account. Maybe he had a girlfriend to hide… but honestly that wouldn’t make sense, because if he were to hide an account, wouldn’t he be following girls? At least one? But the only one was you.

And you were now his only follower.

It seemed like a simple account, purely made for enjoyment. Social media is used for that sort of thing anyways, right? You shake your head, reminding yourself that not every man is out to get you. Not every stranger is here to hurt you.

It’s not that big of a deal, and you shouldn’t even be bothering yourself with it.

So you opt to forget about it and carry on with your day.

Saturday - a day to catch up after the work week and do whatever you want to do. So, you do. You work out, shower and make your way to the little cafe down the street to catch a light breakfast and coffee.

Sitting down at an empty table near the window to people watch, your phone buzzes over the table.

Mystic_Legend (10:01 am) : Good morning

Bzzzzt

Mystic_Legend sent a photo

You practically leap from your seat to snatch your phone, a rush of adrenaline courses through your veins. You pray to god that this doesn’t go south, please for the love of god do not be an unsolicited dick pic.

Preparing yourself with a breath, you go to his message embarrassingly fast and tap on the photo.

You squint before opening, as if to allow yourself to be a victim of a terrible sight, but to your delight, the picture opened to a pair of pristine white sneakers next to some weights.

Mystic_Legend (10:03 am) : I am hitting the gym this morning. I hope you slept well.

You (10:04 am) : I beat you to it, I already worked out today. I am getting breakfast.

Sending a picture back can’t do any harm, right? Angling your phone over your food and coffee, you snap a picture and send it.

Mystic_Legend (10:06 am) : Looks good

Mystic_Legend (10:06 am) : What are your plans today?

Mystic_Legend (10:07 am) : I am excited to call, let me know when you are ready.

You purse your lips, blushing at the thought of having a phone call with a stranger. This was unhinged right? No one in their right mind would be doing this… right? Why did your heart flutter with every message he sent?

It’s literally a blank profile.

You tap on his account and scroll down to the photo of him in a mirror. The purple beanie covers his hair and the phone covers most of his face. The hoodie he wears is black with neon coloring and you can’t see past his waist. The one eye you do see, gives a glimpse, a sliver, that who you are talking to is a real person.

You (10:10 am) : I have to run errands today, but I will text you when I am home

The chat bubble lifts above the keyboard, then disappears. You await his response in silence.

Mystic_Legend (10:11 am) : I will wait for you.

An… odd message, you blink. Maybe even sweet… but you don’t know the customs and courtesies of Korean culture enough to have a real judgement. All you need to worry about is finishing your errands and chores before a phone call with a stranger.

-

Flicking the light to your apartment on and dumping your grocery bags on the counter, you stretch.

A day out was just what you needed, and the weather was perfect to walk around in, but damn do your feet ache. Slipping off your shoes by the door, you begin doing your final task of the day.

You barely put the egg carton in your fridge before you hear your phone buzz from the counter. Padding your feet over to your phone, sits another photo message from mystic_legend.

Tilting your head, you open the photo.

An outstretched hand gingerly caresses a wine glass halfway filled with a deep red in front of a kitchen counter.

Mystic_Legend (8:00 pm) : I hope you had a good day.

You (8:00 pm) : Sorry it is so late, I met up with a coworker for dinner.

You cringe at your apology, it’s not like he deserved one. But it was true. Your coworker saw you shopping at a local store and asked if you’d be down to have drinks and food. You couldn’t say no, especially since you have no friends. And this coworker is also a foreigner, so it works out in terms of no language barriers. But you did have plans to call with him, so maybe you felt the need to mention that?

You (8:01 pm) : Is that red wine?

Mystic_Legend (8:01 pm) : Yes. I like this one.

Mystic_Legend sent a photo

You open the photo to see an exquisite bottle of red with the label in French.

You (8:03 pm) : Looks expensive, are you rich?

Mystic_Legend (8:04 pm) : It was a gift.

You (8:05 pm) : I will call soon, I need to finish cleaning up and shower

Mystic_Legend hearted your message but said nothing else.

You freshen up after a long day, letting the hot water cascade down your back. Rubbing your shoulders to ease the tension, your mind wanders.

Was this a trick? Was he a creep? How could you be so naive in trusting a complete stranger? It was weird, what you were doing.

But in reality, you are lonely. Making this move was huge for you and your confidence. You’ve never ventured out like this before. You are a big girl, you don’t need to explain your reasons for making friends. You are completely on your own, working in a completely new country, and doing good at it.

You’re not tied down by anything but yourself, so why was it hard to accept the fact that this was a little unconventional?

You’ve tried dating apps in the past- you physically cringe forcing yourself to stop your thought process. Shrugging your shoulders against the water in a visceral reaction, you shake off the thought. This guy is not an interest, why were you thinking it was? Instagram is not an app to date.

Even so, he had never asked anything other than to talk to you. You’ve had guys in the past ask for nudes almost immediately. You’ve had guys thirsting over you in such an icky way that it completely turned you off.

But…

You lean your head back into the waterfall and puff your cheeks.

He hasn’t done that.

You couldn’t help by think of all the reason why. Why he had messaged. Was it a cover? He could be a complete fuck-boy underneath it all and he’s just grabbing your attention.

What if he isn’t even real. What if he’s some mama’s boy living in a dingy basement?

You groan, anticipation swelling deep in your belly. You feel like you might be sick at the thought of a measly voice call.

You can’t help that it excites you.

-

Silk pajamas caress your skin and the plush comforter of your bed warms your senses as you whip out your phone and settle yourself in a comfortable position.

Your finger lingers over the phone symbol next to the strangers name… and you can’t do it.

You (11:01 pm) : I’m ready

WIthin seconds, like he really was awaiting your message, your phone screen illuminates with a voice call.

Your body tenses at the mere sight and you suck in a breath, hitting accept.

“Hello?”

“Annyeonghaseyo,” he calls, his voice low and smooth like honey. You melt at the slow infliction of his tone.

“Oh- annyeong-“ You stutter, but he doesn’t react. “How are you?” You try to hold it together to keep your voice from shaking, praying that he doesn’t notice. Your poor Korean could be embarrassing to him.

“That was good,” he comments before proceeding, “I am good now. I told you I would wait for you.”

The more he spoke, the more you caught on to his thick accent. It wasn’t perfect. But you didn’t care, you understood him just fine.

You give an airy laugh, “you did.”

”What did you do today?”

You hum. “I worked out, went to lunch… I went shopping and met up with a coworker of mine for dinner. It was nice. What did you do today?”

He hums in response.

“One second-“ he says, followed by quick tapping on his screen. After a moment, he begins to speak again.

“I worked out too. I had chest day. Then I made music.”

“Music?”

“Yes,” he pauses, “I like to make music.”

”Is that why you post pictures of you in a studio?”

“Yes,” the tapping on his phone is rapid now, “I have my own studio in my house.”

”That’s so cool! I’d like to hear your music…”

The stranger was silent on the other line.

”Maybe.”

“Okay, well no pressure. I don’t like to show anyone my personal stuff either.” You opt to keep the conversation light.

He hums in agreement.

“Why did you come to Korea?”

You shift under your covers, thinking of a response.

“I… just needed a new start. I wanted to see what I could accomplish.” Is what you ended up with.

He hums again, slow and low, taking a moment to respond.

“I understand. I have lived here my entire life. I always wanted to travel, that is good that you did.”

You laugh, “it was scary at first, moving to a new country and all…”

”I could tell you all the best spots around here.”

”I’d like that, I’m still getting used to it.” You turn your head to look at the moon outside your window.

”Do you remember my name?” He questions.

”Su-Bong.” You respond quietly.

”Yes, I’d like to know yours.”

You swallow, internally battling yourself with how to respond. You don’t want to give him your real name in the means of safety. But he did give you his.

“Is that actually your name?”

“Of course, why would I lie?” His accent was thick and questioning, low in bass. It rang so nicely through your ears. His infliction doesn’t waver, and it draws you in.

You slowly said your own name, giving him the benefit of the doubt. It was just a name after all, and he had already known what you looked like.

He repeated your name quietly, like he savored it on his tongue. His deep voice electrified your nerves in a way you’ve never experienced, triggering your body to grow hot in embarrassment.

“Beautiful name,” was all he said.

You sheepishly give thanks before yawning.

“Are you tired?”

Your eyelids grow heavy to the sound of his voice. “I am.”

”I will let you go to sleep, can we talk tomorrow?”

You wait a moment to respond as your heart flutters in response to him.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

”Okay,” he whispers, “an nyeong hi ju mu se yo.”

”Goodnight, Su-Bong.”

-

Thanos hung up the phone almost too quickly, but not because he wanted to leave the conversation, but because he needed to let out a breath he had been holding.

Your voice was sweet and calming. It had lulled his system like waves of the ocean.

Running his fingers through his hair his eyes dart around the room and curses under his breath.

You’d definitely be the death of him.

[scoupsakakitty]

little sister reader (scoups or mingyu) where she gets verbally attacked by fans for being close with ateez (wooyoung or San)?

Just Friends | idol!Scoups x sister!reader| angst, fluff | mentions of Wooyoung

Y/N had been through internet drama before. It came with the territory of being one of the biggest influencers in Korea—and, of course, being the little sister of Choi Seungcheol. She knew how quickly rumors spread, how fast people turned on you, how suddenly the internet could love you one second and hate you the next. But this? This was something else entirely.

It all started with a shopping trip.

Y/N had spent the afternoon with Wooyoung, one of her closest friends, just casually strolling through the streets of Seoul, laughing, chatting, and occasionally stopping to snap pictures of cute accessories and clothes. They weren’t hiding. Why would they? It wasn’t like they were doing anything wrong.

But when you had millions of followers, and your friend was an idol from one of the biggest boy groups, every little thing turned into a scandal.

By the time Y/N got home that evening, her phone was buzzing nonstop. Her social media was exploding.

[BREAKING] ATEEZ’s Wooyoung spotted shopping with influencer Y/N! Dating rumors ignite after viral photos surface. #WooyoungY/N #NewCoupleAlert

Y/N groaned as she scrolled through Twitter (or rather, the battlefield formerly known as Twitter). The pictures were everywhere. Some of them were innocent—just her and Wooyoung walking side by side, laughing. But others…

One particular shot showed Wooyoung playfully fixing a strand of her hair while she smiled up at him. Another caught him holding her wrist gently as they crossed a busy street.

And of course, the internet lost its mind.

Some fans were thrilled, gushing about how cute they looked together. Others? Not so much. Hate comments flooded her notifications.

“She’s just using Wooyoung for attention.” “She’s not even an idol. Why does she get to hang out with him?” “I knew she was a clout chaser.”

Then there were Carats who had mixed reactions. Some were protective, defending her, while others were… less kind.

“Why is S.Coups’ sister getting involved with idols? This is embarrassing.” “She needs to stop bringing scandals to Seventeen.”

Her stomach twisted uncomfortably. She hated this. No matter how much time passed, no matter how much she grew, people still saw her as nothing more than “S.Coups’ little sister.”

A loud knock on her bedroom door made her jump. Before she could respond, the door swung open, and there stood her brother, arms crossed, an unimpressed expression on his face.

“Y/N,” he sighed, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Oh boy. Here we go.

She tossed her phone onto her bed and crossed her arms, mirroring his stance. “I was thinking that I’d spend the day with my friend. Didn’t know that was a crime.”

Seungcheol exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know exactly what I mean. You and Wooyoung, in public, acting all… close. Did you really not think people would start talking?”

“Acting close? We were literally just hanging out.”

“Tell that to the internet,” he shot back. “Do you have any idea how much of a mess this is? My phone’s been blowing up all evening. The company is already getting questions about it. Not to mention, people are dragging Seventeen into this because you’re my sister.”

Y/N clenched her fists. “So what? I should just stop having friends because people might make up stupid rumors?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it,” Seungcheol said, voice softer now. “But you need to be more careful. You know how this industry works. People see what they want to see. And Wooyoung—”

“What about him?” she snapped.

Seungcheol hesitated before shaking his head. “I just… I don’t get it. Why are you so close with him? Since when?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Since forever? You know Yeonjun, right? Well, he introduced us a while back, and we just clicked. He’s fun, he’s easy to talk to, and he doesn’t treat me like I’m some fragile little sister who needs to be protected all the time.”

Her brother’s jaw tightened. “That’s not—”

“It is,” she interrupted. “I get that you’re worried, but Wooyoung is one of my best friends. That’s all there is to it.”

Seungcheol studied her for a long moment, then let out a sigh. “Don’t lie to me, Y/N. I know you have feelings for him.”

Her breath hitched, but she quickly masked it with a scoff. “So what if I do?” she muttered, avoiding his gaze. “It doesn’t matter that I have feelings for him. We are still just friends.”

Seungcheol’s expression softened. “Y/N…”

She shook her head. “No, seriously. It doesn’t matter. It won’t change anything. He doesn’t see me that way, and even if he did, it wouldn’t make a difference. The world wouldn’t let it.”

Seungcheol looked like he wanted to argue, but instead, he just sighed again, rubbing the back of his neck. “You should still be careful. Not everyone will believe that you’re just friends.”

“I know,” she muttered, suddenly feeling drained. “But I can’t live my life based on what strangers on the internet think.”

Seungcheol’s expression softened even more. “I get it. I really do. But if things get worse, let me know, okay?”

She managed a small smile. “Yeah. Okay.”

As her brother left the room, Y/N picked up her phone again. Her notifications were still a mess, but this time, she saw a new message at the top of her chat.

[Wooyoung]: You good? Don’t let the haters get to you. Yeonjun and I are ready to fight if needed.

She laughed quietly, shaking her head.

No matter what the internet said, she knew one thing for sure: she had real friends who had her back.

[venomvalley]

For smut week I know we all love the mind blowing leg shaking stuff but I feel like Leon’s the type of guy to do some goofy shit. Imagine reader and Leon just annoying each other or doing something stupid while doing the do because they love each other so much. I have this vivid image of like. Lazy morning sex and Leon reaches over to get a sip of coffee while literally pounding away and then he gets yelled at by reader because that’s NOT what you do! God he is so fucking stupid I love him

this made my heart explode so i just wrote down a bunch of moments instead of one single ficlet. (ive had this in my drafts for a week its time to release him)

18+ only

I.

The hazy warmth of sleep blankets you, and Leon’s already handsy. He slips fingers beneath your shirt, trails them over the curve of your belly, teases the line of your sleep shorts. Yes. Yes, please.

You’re cognizant enough to reach for the lube on the nightstand. He’s leaving this morning, won’t be back for weeks—gotta skip a few steps. 

He fucks you like he’ll miss you. Rolls you onto your stomach, spreads the cheeks of your ass, and slides in. Slick and tight and—

His cellphone rings. You twist your head to glare at him, a silent threat in the narrowing of your eyes. Do not. Do not, Leon—

“Kennedy speaking.”

You stuff your face into the pillow when he sharpens his thrusts, curls a hand around your hip to keep you still. The voice on the line comes through muffled and low, but you can’t make out any words. Trying too hard to keep quiet, and this seems a game to him. How far can he go, how good can he fuck you before you crack. 

“Right. Right… of course, sir.”

Heat coils in your gut, quickens your breath, and the position of your body and his hips force him right up against sensitive nerves. Fuck. Fuck, he’s got you right where he wants you. 

“Yes. I’ll be there.”

You whine into the pillow, chew on the fabric to silence your noises, until he says goodbye and slides both hands up to your shoulder blades, pressing you into the bed.

“Sorry about that.” Only now does he allow his voice to shake, his breathing to heavy. “A change of plans.”

You can barely focus with his hips slapping against your ass, the noisy glide of his cock making you clench around him. Can barely rub two braincells together, being fucked like this. “Fuck—what was it?”

“You get to keep me another day, I’m afraid.”

That pulls a laugh from you, and he digs his face into your shoulder, curls a hand around your waist, presses a kiss to the pulse of your neck.

“God, how horrible.”

II.

Set the scene: he’s bent you over the kitchen island, ten minutes in from a date. Has you stripped from the waist down, hips pressed up against the lip of the counter, pounds you until your body jolts.

You spot the takeout cup filled halfway with your post-dinner milkshake. You’re thirsty from all the moaning, and it’s probably melting. Why wouldn’t you reach for it? Take a little sip?

But he acts like you’ve committed a crime. Stops in his tracks, bottoms out inside you and says, “What are you doing?”

“I’m thirsty.”

“You’re gonna cut your mouth on the straw.”

“Then go slower.” You glance back at him, lips bitten between your teeth to keep a smile at bay, and the purse of his lips ruins the effect of his glare. “Want some?”

He exhales a sigh but takes the cup anyway, and you turn back around to balance against the countertop when his thrusts continue, deep and heavy and slick, and you reach between your legs to caress and massage and stroke—so close—a little more—

He slurps through the straw, and you think he’ll stop once he realizes, but he doesn’t. He keeps going, and you lose focus, the edge of your orgasm.

“Leon.”

“What?”

“Can you stop?” You turn to glare at him, and he hands your milkshake back to you. Completely empty. “Seriously?”

“You distracted me,” he says, a little breathless, red-faced, and you can’t stay mad at him. Not when he slips a hand between your legs and leans forward to suckle a spot on your shoulder, mouth ice cold from the milkshake. “I’ll make it up to you.”

III.

“Leon! Stop tickling my feet!”

“I can’t help it. They’re right here.”

Oh, yeah. What a fantastic idea. Reverse cowgirl, a new position, a kindness from you to give him a good view. And he’s gone and ruined it.

He runs his fingertips down your sole yet again and you cackle, kick him awkwardly in the side. On accident, you swear.

“Leon—“ you move to slide off his length, and he grips tight to your waist. Panicked.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop.”

IV.

You’ve a mouth stuffed full with his dick, and all he cares about is the fucking movie playing on the television. You’ve seen it before—it’s not even good, but for some reason he’s been enraptured. 

You manage to draw his attention back for a few minutes, and just when he starts getting into it—pretty noises, face darkening with blush, thighs tensing—he’ll glance back up. Pat you on the shoulder. Say, “Wait, this part looks good.”

Unintentionally edging himself, and it would be hilarious if your jaw wasn’t aching at this point.

Halfway through the movie, you decide to give up and get off your sore knees. You join him on the couch, and he doesn’t even notice. Gives you little more than a short glance and a smile.

But he makes it up to you once the credits begin to roll.

[probablyintensemuses]

A-Z NSFW Alphabet

Armando Aretas

🎧- Girls Need Love: Summer Walker

summary: head cannon on what sex—a-z—is like with Armando

A: After care (what they’re like after sex)

I’m fully convinced that after you have sex, Armando cleans you off while telling you how well you took him. Then he sets a bath or shower, your preference, for you both. He likes to clean you off and sing you some more praises before you ultimately fall asleep in each others arms.

B: Body part (what’s their favorite body part)

I see Armando as an ass and back guy. There’s no doubt he’s in killer shape, so I think seeing a toned back and a fat, perky ass bouncing while he drills into you from behind, would definitely turn him on, only fueling the way he destroys your cunt.

C: Cum (where do they like to cum)

Armando cums literally anywhere you let him. On your face, in your pussy, on your back, on your stomach. Anywhere you tell him, he will

D: Dirty (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Armando once caught you using a vibrator and never told you. It was just something about the way you moaned and squirmed, touching yourself while you called out his name, that fueled his ego and lust for you.

E : Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Armando’s a drug dealer, there are desperate girls lying up just waiting for the chance at a good fuck with him. I think it goes without saying that he’s pretty experienced and has methods on making you cum each and every-time you fuck.

F: Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I think Armando likes some good ole’ missionary, except he likes to fold you like a pretzel, test the bounds of your flexibility, as he pounds and drills deep into you. He loves to not only hear your cries and moans but see them too, and in missionary, he really gets the best of both worlds.

G: Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

To Armando, there is nothing funny about getting the chance to fuck you and see you wither from his touch. I doubt he laughs in general, so sex would definitely be a no laughing matter.

H: Hair (how well groomed are they)

For the most part I think Armando is clean shaven. I didn’t see a spec of hair on his chest in the prison scene so I think when you pull down his pants, it’ll either be clean shaven or a slight buzz down there.

I: Intimacy (how intimate are they)

It depends, are you the love of his life, or a quick fuck? Love of his life? He’ll go above and beyond for you. A quick fuck? The most you’ll get out of his is an orgasm and one night in a five star hotel.

J : Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Armando has a high sex drive—I mean look at his father—so he’s definitely going to jack off, especially with the time he spends alone and in prison. He’d jerk off thinking of you, squeezing snd pumping his swollen cock in his fist until he cums.

K: Kink (what are their kinks)

Now as violent as Armando can get, I don’t think his kink would be anything that can hurt you. I think if anything, the lack of a stable family and community around him would make him desperate for a family of his own with the right woman. I think he’d have a breeding kink, always moaning and babbling about how he wants to cum deep inside of you, impregnating you to start a family. His favorite phrase to moan near his orgasm: “Hazme papá, mi amor.”

L: location (where do they like to fuck)

Armando will fuck you anywhere his cock starts to ache, needing to be inside you. It doesn’t matter where you too are, if he wants you, he’ll have you.

M : Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Armando has expensive taste. So he gets the most turned on when you’re sensually dressed in the lingerie he bought you, all dolled up for him. I think seeing you like that, doing mundane things like cooking and cleaning, will have him ready to explode.

No: No (what are some things they’re not doing to you)

I don’t think Armando’s doing anything that can hurt you. He doesn’t want you to fear him if he goes to far, then he’ll loose you and he can’t risk that.

O: Oral (do they give and receive oral)

Armando loves the taste or your pussy, and he loves how he can make you cum just by eating you out, he loves the power of gives him. He doesn’t always ask for it, but he loves when you go down on him and suck his cock with such ease. It’s glorious watching you choke and slob on his large member.

P: Pace (how fast or slow is sex)

This depends on Armando’s mood. If you’re fucking or having a quickie, he’s all about fast and tough, making you cum as quick and hard as he can. But if you’re making love, he will give you slow, powerful, and calculate strokes, making sure to hit your sweet spot every-time time he pushes into you while singing you praises and telling you your worth.

Q : Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Armando is always game for a quickie, but I don’t think he has them often. If he’s going to fuck you, he’s going to fuck you passion and purpose and quickie doesn’t give him the time to do what he truly wants to do to you.

R: Risk (how risky are they)

Armando’s a drug-dealing assassin, risk might as well be his middle name. He’s fucking you in the office, in the van, in the compound, outside in the woods, in an airplane bathroom, upstairs at a friends place. He’s an adrenaline junkie and some part of him gets off on the fact that you like the risk too.

S: Stamina (how long do they last)

Do you see his body? That man can last for hours if he has too. Round after round he won’t tap out until you do, and if that means being balls deep for hours, he’ll do that.

T: Toys (do they like toys? Do they use them?)

Armando won’t use toys on himself. And he doesn’t really like them, he’d rather his partner cum because of him and what can do. He’ll study every part of you and listen to your sexual language so that he can perform just what you need to make you cum harder than any toy could make you.

U: Unfair (how unfair are they when you fuck)

Armando loves to tease you, edging you and seeing how far he can push you for your release. He loves to stop fucking you just when you’re at the edge so that you’re begging for him just to stick the head of his cock back in and finish his job. Hell do this a few times because some insecure part of himself needs to know just how badly you need him.

V: Volume (how loud they are during sex)

Armando is definitely vocal. He grunts and moans as he takes your pussy with his cock. He praises you in Spanish and English for how well you take his cock. He wants to be heard by you and others, claiming you as his with his sounds.

W: Wild card ( a random head canon)

As dominant as he can be, I really do think he’s a munch. I think he could sit for hours just eating your pussy or doing as you ask him and following your orders. Whatever you tell him to do in the bedroom, that won’t hurt you, of course, he does it. And he does it with fucking pride. He’s your best eater and there’s no doubt about it.

X: X-ray (what’s going down underneath)

Marcus said it: “those Lowery genes are a bitch.” I’m thinking Armando is strapped. He’s about 7 1/2 inches and thick, a perfect size to stretch you out and give you a good, full fucking that’ll have you craving for more.

Y: Yearing (how high is their sex drive)

High. That’s all I’m going to say. High.

Z: Zzz (how fast to the fall asleep after sex)

I don’t think he sleeps right after. Armando definitely pulls you into his arms and watches you sleep against his chest. And once you’re sleep for a while with no waking, I think that’s when he’ll slowly start to doze off himself.

[sweetheartsofpanem]

The Shape of Warmth - Soft Things Survive

Previous Part

always assume that time passes between chapters, like a day or two, unless i state differently. also i literally did research to see if strawberries would even be in season in district 12 during may😭

warnings: refer to series masterlist

pairing(s): refer to series masterlist

word count: 2.92k

series masterlist | main masterlist

You were harvesting strawberries from Peeta’s garden with Katniss when you finally spoke of your mother.

“She hated my eyes,” you said abruptly, plucking a berry so hard it burst in your hand. “Said they were my dad’s. Said it isn’t right I got a part of him when I’m the reason he died.”

You drop the crushed berry into the basket and wipe your stained fingers on the grass. “She’d lock me in the cellar. Said I needed to learn my place.” You laughed bitterly. “Took me a few months to realize my place was six feet under, like dad.”

Katniss was quiet for a moment, her hands stilling in the leaves. “I knew she was bad,” she said finally, her voice low. “But not that awful.” She looked at you, brow furrowed. “How… how was it your fault? That he died?”

You shifted on your knees, brushing your thumb against another berry. “He didn’t work in the mines until after I was born. They didn’t have enough to feed all three of us, so he signed up. Said he had to. She never let me forget it.”

Katniss’ jaw tightened, but she didn’t say anything else. Instead, she reached for a berry and tossed it into the basket. “She was wrong,” she said simply.

You offered a small shrug. “She was a lot of things.”

For a while, you both worked in silence—but it wasn’t heavy. Just shared space. Leaves rustling softly beneath your fingers.

After a few minutes, Katniss straightened up and brushed her hands off on her pants. “You always pick the overripe ones.”

You squinted at her. “What? No I don’t.”

“You do,” she said, a smirk tugging at her lips. “It’s like you’re trying to pick the ones that are already giving up.”

You blinked at her, then huffed a dry laugh. “Well, that feels personal.”

Katniss actually laughed, short and surprised. “Maybe a little.”

You tossed a berry at her—it missed by several inches and splatted harmlessly into the dirt.

She raised a brow. “You throw like Peeta.”

You gasped in mock offense. “Okay, low blow.”

“Just calling it like I see it.” She bent back down and started plucking more berries. “We should probably bring these in before Peeta acts like we’ve ruined his life’s work.”

You rolled your eyes but followed her lead, the tension in your chest easing. Talking about your mother left you feeling raw—but not shattered. Maybe it was the sun, or the garden, or Katniss herself.

Maybe it was just time.

Later you follow Katniss toward the house, the basket of strawberries nestled carefully in your arms. The air smells like warm soil and fresh greenery, and even though your hands are stained red, you don’t mind. There’s something satisfying about the mess of it.

Peeta is already in the kitchen when you step inside, sleeves rolled up and flour dusting the edge of his apron. He glances up as the door creaks open and his face lights up immediately.

“You survived the harvest,” he says, grinning.

“Barely,” you mutter, setting the basket on the table.

“She threw a berry at me,” Katniss adds dryly as she moves to the sink to rinse her hands.

Peeta’s brows lift. “Really?”

“Missed by a mile,” Katniss deadpans.

You drop into a chair with a groan. “Okay, we get it. I have terrible aim.”

Peeta chuckles, already moving toward the basket to inspect the berries. “Nah, I’m just surprised you didn’t use one of the bad ones. This one looks like it exploded in your hand and a few of them are too ripe.”

“Sharp observation, Mellark.”

“She squeezed it like it owed her something,” Katniss mutters under her breath.

You lift your hands in mock surrender. “You’re both impossible.”

Peeta picks up a berry, eyes it, then pops it into his mouth. “Mm. These are perfect,” he says through a chew. “You did good.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You just said they were too ripe.”

“They can be both,” he says with a shrug. “You did explode the one artistically.”

You shake your head, laughing under your breath.

“Are you using these today?” Katniss asks, leaning against the counter.

Peeta nods. “I was thinking of doing a tart. Maybe with cream. Sound good?”

You raise a brow. “You’re asking us like we wouldn’t eat it regardless.”

Katniss grabs a clean rag and tosses it at you. “Just don’t let her near the crust.”

You catch it and mock-glare. “Wow. Is this payback for the berry?”

She shrugs, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “Maybe.”

Peeta just smiles as he starts pulling ingredients from the cabinets. “If you want to help, I could use someone to cut the berries.”

“On it,” you say, rising from your chair and washing your hands at the sink beside Katniss. She bumps your elbow lightly as you both dry off.

It’s quiet for a few moments after that—quiet, but not silent. Peeta hums as he works, arranging ingredients like a painter setting up a canvas. Katniss moves through the kitchen with purpose, filling a kettle and setting it on the stove. You take a knife from the drawer and begin slicing berries, careful and methodical, like the motion itself is a kind of focus.

And maybe it is.

You don’t know when it started to feel like this—this strange, gentle normalcy. But standing here, shoulder to shoulder with two people who once only existed on the edges of your life, it doesn’t feel strange anymore. It feels… okay.

The front door creaks open before anyone has the chance to speak again.

“Smells like Mellark’s pretending to be useful again,” Haymitch calls from the entryway.

Katniss rolls her eyes and moves to take the kettle off the heat. “Speak of the devil.”

You glance toward the doorway just in time to see Haymitch saunter into the kitchen, flask in one hand, expression as unimpressed as always.

“Morning,” Peeta says, not looking up from where he’s carefully stirring cream into a bowl.

“It’s not morning,” Haymitch mutters, eyeing the strawberries. “It’s barely functioning hours.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Says the man who was probably still asleep fifteen minutes ago.”

He smirks at you. “Still picking fights before we can even have a nice conversation, huh?”

“Only with people who show up uninvited.”

“I live next door,” he says, feigning innocence. “Thought this was a neighborhood gathering.”

Peeta gestures to the counter. “We’re making a tart. You want to help?”

Haymitch snorts. “Sure, let me just get my frilly apron and rolling pin.”

“You’re no fun,” you say, slicing the last strawberry.

“I’m plenty of fun. Just not the kind that involves flour and fruit.”

“Then sit and look pretty,” Katniss says flatly, setting four mugs on the table.

Peeta grins. “Or just sit. Pretty might be asking too much.”

Haymitch raises his flask in a lazy toast. “Cruel. All of you.”

You can’t help the laugh that slips out, quiet and genuine. It’s oddly comforting, this strange rhythm the four of you fall into. Like this—whatever this is—has been happening for years.

Haymitch drops into a chair with a groan, stretching out his legs. “So what’s the occasion? You celebrating something or just bored enough to play pastry chef?”

“Strawberries were ripe,” Katniss says simply.

“Y/N picked most of them,” Peeta adds, giving you a small nod.

You shrug. “Katniss helped. Mostly by criticizing my aim.”

“She tried assaulting me with a berry,” Katniss tells Haymitch, deadpan.

He gives you a look. “That checks out.”

You make a dramatic show of wiping your hands on a towel. “See if I ever help prepare a dessert you’ll eat again.”

“Tragic,” he drawls. “I’ll be devastated.”

The kitchen is filled with warmth—not just from the oven, but from a growing sense of friendship. For a moment, no one says anything. The room just holds the four of you, steady and whole.

Peeta slides the tart into the oven, dusting his hands on a towel. “Twenty minutes,” he says, more to himself than anyone.

“Twenty minutes to burn the place down,” Haymitch mutters.

You raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you were a pessimist and a critic.”

“Oh, I’m a man of many talents,” he says, reclining further in the chair. “You just haven’t had the joy of experiencing all of them yet.”

Katniss takes a seat across from Haymitch, wrapping her hands around a warm mug. “You say that like it’s a threat.”

“It is a threat,” you mutter, and Peeta snorts quietly behind you.

“I’m sitting right here,” Haymitch says, looking vaguely offended.

You sit in the chair beside him, feigning deep sympathy. “And yet we talk about you like you’re not.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “I’m starting to regret coming over.”

Katniss smirks. “You regret everything, eventually.”

He gestures vaguely toward her. “She gets it.”

“So,” Peeta says after a beat, nudging the conversation along, “what do we do while we wait for the tart? Cards? Storytime?”

“Please no storytime,” Haymitch groans. “Last time you made us all sit through that one about the squirrel with a limp.”

“I liked that one,” Katniss says, surprising everyone.

Peeta blinks. “You… did?”

She shrugs. “It was determined. It had character.”

“It also stole three loaves of bread,” you point out.

“Resourceful,” Katniss counters.

Haymitch shakes his head slowly. “This is what the world’s come to. War ends, dictators fall, and now we root for limping squirrels and bake desserts for fun.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy the cake last time,” Peeta says, already pulling out plates like he’s preparing for victory.

You smirk. “He had seconds.”

Haymitch looks deeply offended. “That’s slander.”

“Sweet slander,” Peeta teases. “With vanilla frosting.”

You glance around the kitchen—at the mismatched mugs, the soft thud of Peeta’s steps, Katniss leaning back in her chair like she might actually be relaxed, Haymitch slouched like this is his usual spot. It’s nothing extravagant. It’s not even normal, not really.

But it feels good.

“You know,” you say, breaking the moment softly, “I think this might be the most peace District 12 has seen in years.”

They all look at you—Katniss thoughtful, Peeta warm, Haymitch unreadable.

“Let’s not jinx it,” Haymitch mutters, but he doesn’t sound bitter.

Katniss nods slightly. “It’s strange, but… yeah. You’re not wrong.”

Peeta leans against the counter, arms crossed loosely. “We’ve earned it, I think.”

You hum in agreement, a quiet sound in your throat. “Sometimes I still feel like I’m going to wake up and find the house gone. Like all of this is something I made up.”

“You didn’t,” Katniss says. “It’s real.”

“It’s messy,” Haymitch adds. “But it’s real.”

You nod, looking down at your hands. “Still doesn’t feel like mine.”

Peeta’s voice is soft. “Doesn’t have to. Not yet. It can take time.”

You glance at him, something inside you easing at the way he says it—not as reassurance, but as fact.

“Time,” you echo.

Haymitch lifts his flask with a scoff. “Time and a bottle of rotgut. That’s the Abernathy plan for healing.”

Katniss side-eyes him. “You could try not being a mess for five minutes.”

He raises his eyebrows. “And rob you all of my charm? Perish the thought.”

You roll your eyes. “Pretty sure charm implies effort.”

“Exactly,” Peeta chimes in. “Which is why you’re off the hook.”

Haymitch flips him off without looking, and you laugh before you can stop yourself.

The oven beeps eventually, and Peeta moves to retrieve the tart with practiced care, the smell of strawberries filling the kitchen in a way that strangely feels like home, though you aren’t even sure what home really is.

He sets the dish on the counter, golden and steaming.

Katniss stares at it. “You didn’t burn it.”

Peeta looks smug. “Did you doubt me?”

“Always. But I’m more doubtful about the crust since you went against my advice and let Y/N make it.”

You glance between them, a small smile tugging at your mouth. “Do I get to taste it or is this just for display?”

“Only if you do the dishes,” Peeta says.

You snort. “Pass.”

Haymitch’s gaze flicks to the tart. “Bet it’s not as good as those cookies.”

Peeta raises an eyebrow. “You mean the cookies I made?”

Katniss just sighs and stands, moving to grab forks. “Children. The lot of you.”

You share a grin with Peeta and stand from your chair to approach the counter, the warmth from the oven curling around your knees.

Katniss sets the forks on the counter with a decisive clink and motions for someone to cut the tart. “Well? Who’s doing the honors?”

Peeta glances at her, one brow raised. “You doubt us, and you want us to serve you?”

She shrugs. “Seems fair.”

“I’ll cut it,” you offer before they can bicker further. Peeta hands you a knife, and you try not to feel too proud of yourself as you carefully slice into the tart. The crust gives just enough under the pressure, golden and flaky, the strawberries warm and soft.

You plate a slice and hand it to Katniss, who mutters a quiet “thanks” before accepting it. Peeta gets the next one, and then you finally serve Haymitch—half expecting some sarcastic remark, but he just accepts it with a nod.

You sit last, the four of you spaced around the table like something resembling a family—though the term feels too neat for whatever this actually is.

Katniss digs into her slice with a quiet hum of approval. “Not bad.”

Peeta smirks. “Not bad? That’s practically high praise from you.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue.

Haymitch, meanwhile, takes a bite and then narrows his eyes dramatically at you. “Well, damn.”

You glance at him warily. “That a compliment?”

“Jury’s still out,” he mutters around another bite. “But I didn’t expect you to have actual baking potential. Now I’ve got to rethink everything.”

“I contain multitudes,” you reply flatly.

Peeta grins, clearly amused. “Told you she was a natural.”

You shake your head, lips twitching. “You said, and I quote, ‘we’ll make something that’s at least edible.’ Not exactly the highest bar.”

He raises his hands in surrender. “True. But you cleared it.”

Katniss finishes her slice and leans back, fork clinking softly against the plate. “I’ve had worse. A lot worse.”

“That’s the spirit,” Haymitch deadpans. “Let’s all aim for slightly above miserable.”

You chuckle, pushing a crumb around your plate with your fork. “A good motto for District 12.”

Katniss doesn’t laugh, but her mouth curves in that almost-smile she sometimes gives—soft and fleeting and rare. “We’re doing better now.”

The kitchen grows quieter, the four of you caught in the strange comfort of shared space and small routines. You watch the way Peeta wipes his hands on a napkin, the way Katniss’s foot taps lightly against the leg of her chair, the way Haymitch stares out the window with a faint frown, like he’s watching ghosts.

They’re so different, the three of them—but somehow, it works.

“You ever think about how weird this is?” you say quietly.

Katniss glances at you. “What part?”

“All of it. Us. Sitting here. Eating tart.”

Peeta shrugs. “It’s not that weird. We’re people. People like food.”

Haymitch snorts. “Speak for yourself. I like booze and silence.”

“And yet you keep showing up for baked goods,” you point out.

“Because I’m a man of layers,” he replies with mock dignity.

You smile into your fork. “Sure you are.”

The wind rustles through the open window. Outside, birds chatter in the trees and the sun hangs lazy in the sky. It doesn’t feel like the end of the world. Not today.

Peeta leans back in his chair, watching you with something unreadable in his eyes. “You gonna start coming around more?”

You hesitate, caught off guard. “I’ve been coming around.”

He shrugs. “Yeah. But not like this.”

You don’t know how to respond to that, so you just glance down at your plate. “Maybe.”

Katniss picks up her mug again. “No pressure. Just don’t disappear.”

You nod slowly, unsure if you can promise that—but wanting to, all the same.

Haymitch finishes the last bite of his tart and pushes his plate away like he’s offended by its emptiness. “Well. That was tolerable.”

You and Peeta both chuckle. “Thanks.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, kids.” He pushes himself up from the chair with a low grunt and stretches. “Alright. I’m leaving before this turns into a feelings circle.”

You arch a brow. “You mean it wasn’t already?”

Haymitch gives you a look. “Keep pushing, and I will find a way to bring up your terrible stew again.”

“I never made stew.”

“Exactly.”

You roll your eyes as he heads for the door, muttering something under his breath about strawberry cults and emotionally stunted kids.

After the door shuts behind him, the house feels quieter. Not empty—just… settled.

Peeta clears the plates and Katniss stands, brushing crumbs off her lap. You move to help, but Peeta gently waves you off.

“You baked,” he says. “That’s enough for today.”

You nod, strangely touched by that.

Katniss lingers near the table. “You walking back?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Might walk the path instead of cutting across.”

She nods. “It’s nice out.”

And it is. When you step outside again, the sky is streaked with soft gold and pale blue, the air warm against your skin.

You walk home slowly, the fading sunlight brushing your shoulders, the sweet aftertaste of strawberries still lingering on your tongue.

Next Part

[revelboo]

Oh damn!! Mind if I just explode into particles about the latest Circuits and Wires??

BOOM!! 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💕💕💕💕💕

I love it so much

Wheeljack’s always been a favorite, just that optimism that’s undiminished no matter how many times his projects literally blow up in his face.

Also: Let’s see how many of these I can update in a day

Circuits and Wires Pt 10

Wheeljack x Reader

• Shifting to sit curled up in his lap, you’re aware of him shifting his arm as if wanting to touch and not sure where is okay. Biting into the inside of your cheek as he struggles, you reach back and pull his arm around you, pressing his big hand against your hip and feeling him shiver under you. Because one of you is going to have to be assertive and you’re almost positive it’s not going to be him. Reaching for his other hand, you pull it to you and play with his servos, fingertips tracing over the softer metal mesh at the inside of his wrist as you lay your head against him.

• You’re so soft and warm against him, he wants to tip your head up. Explore your soft mouth and let his hands wander. Would you let him? Optics dim, he doesn’t dare try to find out. Too afraid of being rejected or ruining this. Glossa sliding against his bottom lip remembering the feel of your mouth on his, he flexes his servos when you run your fingertips against the inside of them. And you look up at him, head against his shoulder. Slowly, he presses his palm to yours, intertwining his servos with your fingers, the difference in how much smaller your little hand is shocking. Even mass displaced, you’re so delicate compared to him. And a part of him thrills at that difference.

• Breath catching as you stare at your hand trapped in his much bigger one and feel the servos of the hand on your hip flex against you. Making you wonder what those big hands would feel like on you, wandering over you. “I keep thinking I’m going to break you,” he says, vocal indicators flickering mauve. Embarrassed? About breaking you? Why would he even-oh. Heat spilling through you, his awkwardness twists, takes on a new meaning. Not even sure how that would work between you two. Though, those big fingers could be put to use. And now the thought is there as your face heats.

• Head ducking against him as he catches a glimpse of how red your face just got, he frowns. “I promise you won’t break me,” you mutter, avoiding looking at him as your fingers squeeze his. Venting, he absently rubs against your hip and rests his chin on top of your head. Loving the feel of you against him and not quite believing that he’s allowed this much.

• “I hope not. I like having you around,” he says as you cringe. Because nope. It’s going right over his handsome, dense head unless you spell it out for him. Maybe he’d hadn’t meant it that way after all. And asking about it? Bluntly telling him that you’re interested in him that way? You’d rather curl up and die of embarrassment right now. So you’re right back to square one, you too shy and him too damn oblivious.

Previous

Next

I am all motors and gadgets

Organically designed to last a finite length of time

Locked in this rotary motion, the wheel spins round and round

I comprehend it all but still can't make a sound

I know there's something wrong within my faulty brain

I lack the proper behavior

My temper-addled tongue can't seem to force it out

The words that linger inside me

Can't speak, can't speak, can't speak at all

Don't even think you know the reason

Can't speak, can't speak, can't speak at all

Don't even try to understand

I am all circuits and wires

Conducting symphonies of heat exchange energies

My temper-addled tongue can't seem to force it out

The words that linger inside me

[formylovetodaryldixon]

“When you finally came back.” Daryl Dixon Imagine.

After escaping from the saviors, Daryl and you finally meet again to stay together this time. Alone, your husband gives you a letter that perhaps expresses a little of what you mean to him.

A/N: This is an imagine I wrote looong time ago. It’s literally my second try to write smut. I don't do it often because I feel i can't express properly how the characters feel :( But I tried, so I hope you like it n’ the letter Daryl gives to you. Thank you!

We’ll find a way to get you back. Okay? Just be strong, please. The only thing he can’t take away from you is your strength. So you just have to prove them you are stronger than them.”

With the light steps of a professional hunter, like the most dangerous and silent animal, that predator that doesn't make the slightest noise before catching its prey, Daryl walks through the empty halls, in the middle of those cold and gray walls. The small chance of escaping from that place is shaped as a key, hiding in the pocket of the trousers he stole from Dwight’s room, not without destroying his carved figurines on the table first. Daryl is agile to avoid the saviors, deathly silent as he takes that pipe, running down the last aisle before turning in the right corner to leave the place, hiding his face under a cap.

Finally, he opens the door to get out of the building, running to the first motorcycle on the line full of them.

“What the hell?” Joey looks at Daryl, who looks at him back, holding a calm, but completely threatening look. “Wow. Wow…” He drops the half of his sandwich and raises his hands in the air, just to show he is harmless. “It’s cool. I swear…”

Daryl approaches him, slowly, his gaze fixed on the frightened prey in front of him.

“Buddy, you can walk down that back gate there and I won’t say anything to anybody. I’m supposed to be there now, but… listen… I… I’m just trying to get by, just like you… Please…”

But, with a contained fury that surpasses human strength, Daryl lifts the pipe and smashes it into Joey’s head, again and again, and again. He remembers the brutality with which he was treated, the fear, and the anger that explodes inside him right there, letting out all the pain in the most inhuman way possible.

Turning around the corner, Jesus runs to him from behind some trucks, stopping at the bloody commotion.

“Daryl…” Jesus says, but Daryl doesn’t stop while the blood splashes on his clothes and part of his face. “Daryl!”

Then, like being pulled out of a trance, Daryl finally stops, looking at what is left of Joey.

“He was jus' walkin’ by here… but it ain’t 'bout gettin’ by.” He breathes out, dropping the pipe. Rick’s gun is hanging from Joey’s waist and Daryl takes it, straightening up himself to look at Jesus. “Ya know anythin’ 'bout ma wife?”

“Yeah. Carl said she’s fine so don’t worry. You will be with (Y/N) again very soon.” Jesus looks at Joey quickly before looking back at Daryl, still surprised by what had happened.

Daryl nods absently, thinking about you as he walks again to the motorcycle.

“I got the key. Let’s go.”

As the others enter the Hilltop through the tall wood gates, your owl brooch slips from your shaky hand in the middle of your way. You are nervous, and you stop yourself to pick it up. The brooch has two silver owls sitting on a branch, and it might have been cheesy if you had received it in the old world you used to live in, and although Daryl said that too when he gave it to you, the gift was a reminder of him.

Finally, you walk through the open gates, but stopping yourself again as you hold the brooch a little harder when you see Daryl pulling away from Rick’s hug when he looks at you. Rick smiles before patting his best friend’s back so Daryl can walk to you, without stopping for a single second. You feel the tingling in your chest, something moving inside you when he picks you up from the ground, taking you in a warm embrace as you wrap your legs around his waist, arms around his neck as his strong arms around your back hold you tight. Still holding the brooch, you hide your face in the crook of his neck as you feel a total relief to see him safe, finally home with his family.

A breath of air for the times you two stopped breathing, hearts beating again for the times they stopped beating, bodies aching for the time you two were apart.

“I made it, peach.” Daryl says, breathless, pulling apart just a little to look into your eyes. “I made it thanks to ya.”

But you shake your head, pushing his hair away from his eyes.

“You made it because you’re strong.”

Daryl smiles softly, finally in peace before kissing you.

After the failed attempt to convince Gregory to fight against Negan, fighting against the urge to shoot him when he found a polite way to tell you all to go to hell, while using the back door of the Hilltop, you all go to see King Ezekiel looking for help, guided by Jesus and his good intentions, but that doesn’t work either. King Ezekiel wanted to give asylum to Daryl, but he rejected it believing that the lack of strength from the king against the saviors wasn’t going to help you all beat Negan and his sadistic people.

It was a waste of time for Daryl, so with all of you standing in the middle of the street in the Kingdom, he puts his hand on your lower back to make you turn, pulling you with him to get out of there. One by one, the group walk to the exit too, plunging into a new kind of disappointment.

“Hey. Open it up!” Daryl says to the man in charge of the front doors. “We’re gone.”

The gates make a metallic sound and it opens for the group who walk out of there.

“You’re not.” Rick says to Daryl, and in the middle of his confusion, he makes you stop.

“I ain’t stayin’ here.” He says looking at Rick, his accent getting thick, his voice deep and full of frustration.

“You have to. It’s the smartest play. You know it is.” Rick places his hand on Daryl's shoulder, trying to tell him with words and a kind look that this is what he has to do. “Try to talk to Ezekiel. Whatever it takes. We’ll be back soon.” Rick walks out of the Kingdom, looking at you both before the doors closed. “We’ll come back for you two.”

Alone in that unfamiliar place, Morgan guides you two to a room so you both can rest. Your spirit is more tired than your body, so you say thank you before following him, with Daryl taking the hand you offer to let himself be guided as well.

Uneasy with the lack of support, but not wanting to say anything because more negativity is not going to help save the situation, you lie back in bed, on your right side, kicking your boots off first, head on the pillow, your disappointed gaze lost in the window. Daryl closes the door, locking it before approaching the bed as well, taking his boots off as well before lying on his side so he could look at you in the eyes this time.

"We will going to be okay, right?" You ask, in a small voice.

His hand looks for the warm of your body, your soft skin under your black t–shirt, smiling at the contact he missed so much.

"We will, peach."

The sunlight comes in, the garden is green on the outside, and you hear people’s voice passing by the building, believing they will be safe forever. Even if Daryl doesn’t want to stay there he has to. It was necessary for him to be safe from the saviors. However, right now, he seems to enjoy your hand massaging his hair. His eyes are closed, grunting softly once in a while every time you touch a good spot. Everything seems to be okay when the world is as quiet as it is right now, without the endless grunting of the walkers, nor Negan’s voice that had no mercy.

“Stop thinkin’ 'bout it.” Daryl says softly, opening his eyes again while taking your hand away from his hair to hold it in his. “We’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

He watches the ring in your finger, the place where it belonged to, and then, Daryl finally looks at you for real. This time, for a moment at least, there is not a shred of shame in his gaze, exposing himself completely to you, as he did every time you two were alone, because it was easy for him to be who he really was with you. Your love was the kind of love he never thought he would get, or deserved, but there you are now: loving him like no one else ever did.

“I got somethin’ for ya…” His hand leaves yours, looking in the back pocket of his pants. But suddenly, it is as if a feeling of vulnerability comes over him as Daryl pulls a folded sheet of paper, handing it to you as his blue eyes sparkle with a new kind of shyness. “S’ somethin’ I wrote for ya… ’bout ya, actually.”

You smile at him before looking at the paper, but without opening it yet. You know Daryl never was good with words, even when there was so much he wanted to tell you, so you understand that he decided to write those feelings down. But they weren't even a quarter of what he really felt for you.

“Can I read it now?” You look at him kindly, giving him the option to be there or not if he wasn't comfortable with it. "If not, I can wait ‘til I'm alone."

“Ya can read it.” He gets closer to you, pushing you softly for you to lay on your back while climbing on you, his nose brushing your skin as he starts kissing your neck, his hand caressing your side. “I'll entertain maself with somethin’ else.”

You love the sudden hot feeling, the tickling between your legs in anticipation, the need to have him close again.

“That’s not fair, you asshole.” You chuckle, trying your best to read the letter.

Daryl loves the aggression, chuckling too against your skin as he pulls himself lower, just to meet your most sensitive and still covered area. His hands look for the bottom and the zipper of your jeans, pushing them out of you with your underwear lock in his fingers. You try very hard to concentrate on reading, trying to understand the messy words on the paper, but when Daryl buries his face into you without a warning, just to devour you completely and earning a moan form your closed lips, it is impossible to do so.

His hot tongue moves against you, kissing and licking and sucking, sending a vibration with the low grunt he makes and that travels through your entire body, so intense that you have to hold onto his long hair to keep your balance, so that your now bent legs wouldn't give in with everything he’s giving you.

Your back arches, overwhelmed with the thousands of different sensations that hits you right there. The cold air mixes with the heat emanating from his tongue, as hot as your body starts to be, so hot that you think it is hell itself. The view of the roof is replaced with darkness behind your closed eyes, mouth finally open as the pleasure is starting to make you see stars.

For a second, you think he can make you come with just that, just like the previous times he did, but now it’s because it had been a while since you two made love, your body extremely sensitive to his touch. Right there, your sex is throbbing painfully, waiting impatiently for him to be inside you.

“Daryl, please…”

He can hear the plea in your voice, so full of desire that he can feel it right in his hard member. Daryl licks and tastes one more time, his warm hands holding your hips, pulling you closer to his mouth to get you ready. Daryl loved that feeling every time he ate you out, to know only he could take you so high with only his tongue, listening to those sinful sounds from your precious mouth, but as he rises on his knees, his hands catching the buttons of his shirt to remove it, Daryl and his ego love the view of you.

“Take off yer t–shirt.” He says low. “This ain’t over yet, peach.”

It’s not a warning but a promise and you lick your lip but you do as he says, sitting on the bed before taking the t–shirt out of your body, your bra next, with him loving the view of your naked and soft flesh. But as he finishes the last bottoms and while feeling bold, you lean forward, your hands finding the belt of his pants, mouth close but holding an innocent smile as you undo it.

“Only ya can be hot and cute at the same time, woman.” Daryl grunts. “Now lay back and lemme feel what I've been missin’ all this time.”

You lay back down, watching your husband take off his pants and his boxers, like the hottest imagine in the whole world. Daryl is hot, with his broad shoulders, the tattoo in his chest, his strong arms and calloused hands that always touch you softly. And when he’s completely naked, he lays on top of you, feeling the beating of your heart in his own body, with you bending your legs at each side of his waist and hips, feeling him pushing himself inside of you.

He is thick, and he fills you completely, reaching places you are dying to feel him again, and then, your moans and his grunts are silenced when he kisses you, finally moving. Your hips receive the movement of his, pushing himself even deeper, one hand on your cheek, the other holding himself at the side of your body.

You feel his length beating inside you, your walls squeezing around him, making him grunt against your parted lips. The feeling inside you intensifies with the minutes, with the swaying of his body and yours, your hands hugging his back, feeling his muscles contract under your touch.

Daryl rests his forehead against yours, breathing through his parted lips.

“That feels good?” He asks, and you nod, drowned in the sensation to form a word. “Lemme hear ya, peach. I really need ya right now.”

He chokes with his own words, looking at you with eyes full of lust and between the strands of hair that fall over his forehead, but when you think that can’t get any hotter, Daryl brings two of his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them before pressing them against your clit, rubbing the area, hard and fast, causing you to cry his name.

And he fucking loves that. He would gladly drown in your voice calling his name.

The sensations and the sounds are making him mad as he feels close to his climax, pressing himself into you even harder, deeper and faster when he feels your inner walls clenching against him. You feel close too, and it takes you seconds to finally cum letting out a cry, feeling him release inside of you with one long push.

Daryl buries his face in your neck, breathing heavily, moving slowly as you two enjoy the hot feeling leaving your bodies. You stroke his hair, just to give him some comfort.

And after a while, he pulls away to look at you, but so close you feel his nose brushing yours, with him smiling at the contact. Daryl strokes your cheek softly, making you smile too. His touch is always soft, it is sincere, just like his love for you.

“I love ya, Mrs. Dixon. Ya’ll be only one for the rest of ma life.”

He presses his lips against yours, and it melts you like sweet honey. He came back to you to stay for real this time, and as Daryl falls sleep on his side after a while, dressed again, pressing his body against yours, you take the letter which was forgotten next to the pillow.

His handwriting was always messy, and you used to tease him about it, but now, it makes you hold the air inside your body as you start reading.

Ma lil’ angel:

Awake or when I can sleep, m’ always dreamin’ ‘bout ya. Sometimes I dream ‘bout meetin’ ya in the old world. I wish I could have found ya there. Our life together wouldn't have been perfect but I’d have worked hard to give ya all the things ya deserved, I’d have done everythin’ to make ya the happiest woman. I know someone like me couldn’t have offered ya much in that world, fuck, I can’t offer ya much in this one either, but I promised ya I’d protect ya from everythin’ an’ Imma keep ma word ‘cause now I can’t live without ya. Ya always were a sweet thing to look at an’ even when Carol used to make fun of me when she caught me doin’ it, I couldn’t stop. Ya jus’ made me love ya damn so much. But even now when in ma mind I see the ring in yer finger, I still can’t believe yer really ma wife. I never told ya this but when ya said yes I promised God I would never let ya go. An’ now yer stuck with me forever ‘cause thanks to ya I started livin’ an’ not jus’ survivin’. So yeah, yer ma life, yer the peace, the sun, the moon and all the fuckin’ stars in the diamond sky as ya call it.

It was nice to find someone who loves me like ya do, even with ma temper. I love ya, peach, so much, and m’ sorry I don’ say it often. Ya know m’ bad with words but I’ll try to be better.

Yours, Daryl Dixon.

@fluffy-dixon

[f4ggydog]

Could I request Shauna and chubby size reader smut ?Where the reader is insecure about their body. But Shauna shows them that they shouldn't be insecure... Add whatever you like lmaooo thanks :))) 😂

I cal fill out a couple of old stuff since my brain doesn’t want to brain for ao3 and personal writing rn (kmsing) minors dni

“All these rolls,” you sigh, glancing down at your body. Shauna always told you that your imperfections were nonexistent, that they were all in your head. But you couldn’t stop comparing yourself to models on the magazines, to billboards, to people walking down the street, to some random person on the bus.

Your self consciousness always ate you up inside. It was devouring you piece by piece, like a cannibal feasting on their favorite human. There were mosquitos always present on your body, sucking the life out of you with every drop of insecurity.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Shauna scoffs. “You always do this. Every single time.”

“Does it bother you?” You whimper. If Shauna was burdened by your insecurities, she didn’t have to stay with you. She wasn’t required to. Nobody was holding a gun to her head.

“Just upsetting that you can’t see how gorgeous you are,” Shauna praises. “I promise I’m not frustrated at you. And I’m not gonna…explain your own insecurities to you. It’s just…you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

You sniffle.

“How do you not see what I fucking see? It’s impossible.”

Shauna will prove it. If she can’t convince you by just words alone, she’ll use her tongue, every part of her mouth. She’ll worship you. Fuck it, she’ll devour you until your body explodes. She’ll take her time or rush, whatever you wish. Just as long as she can show you how deeply you mean to her.

Shauna starts with your slit, squeezing your squishy inner thighs and moaning at the softness against her fingers. There was more to love, more to appreciate. How could she fucking complain?

Shauna works her tongue vertically, opening your cunt for her hands and tongue to explore. She laces her trail with kisses, smooch after smooch until you urge to go further. You were all about action, less teasing.

It isn’t long until Shauna starts attacking your clit. It perks up in response to Shauna’s attention. She sucks on the nub before releasing it with a pop. You wiggle underneath her and Shauna presses more firmly on your thighs.

“Stay still,” she urges. “I’m nowhere near done.”

“Already so sensitive,” you whine weakly. “I know you just started, but fuck.”

“This is what you get. You wanted to complain about how you look and now you have to deal with me worshipping you. If you didn’t want that, you shouldn’t have degraded yourself in front of me.”

“But babe-“

“Nope, don’t wanna hear it.”

Shauna keeps going, despite your pleads. You involuntarily buck into her face, smearing your pussy against her face. Your thighs quake and your toes curl at the sensation that keeps hitting you in that perfect spot. Suddenly, you start forgetting what you were even discussing earlier.

“So perfect,” Shauna whispers. “So fucking delicious. Every part of you is simply divine. Every fucking part of you. Fucking stunning and delicious. I could literally bite you.”

[yokumirumerafan]

Hello I’m glad requests are open I didn’t want to send something in without double checking. I was wondering how the members of the bakusquad (+Shinso if possible) would react to the reader being completely oblivious to the guys flirting or crushing on them. They’re very much under the impression that they’re all just being nice, the reader is crushing on them but they’re under the impression that the guys are just good friends.

(I hope this makes sense I’ve been trying to word this as best I can. English isn’t my strong suit)

Lmao same tho I'm Ukrainian and sometimes even grammarly doesn't save me T^T

Anyway, I got you here's what you asked for <33

🧡 Bakusquad (+Shinsou) Reacting to an Oblivious Reader 💥

💥 Bakugo Katsuki

This man is dying inside.

He’s not the type to just say how he feels, but he thinks it’s so obvious—why else would he be tolerating someone this much?!

“Oi, dumbass, I don’t just hang out with anyone.”

He literally glares when someone tells him to confess directly, because he did—at least in his mind.

When you respond with, “Aww, you’re such a nice friend, Bakugo!” he nearly explodes on the spot.

He WILL corner you one day, slamming his hands on the wall: “I LIKE YOU, GOT IT? NOT AS A FRIEND—AS SOMEONE I WANNA DATE.”

If you’re still confused? God help him.

⚡ Kaminari Denki

At first, he thinks it’s kinda cute—until he realizes you actually don’t get it.

He flirts all the time, drops winks, compliments your outfits, even does the classic stretch-arm-over-the-shoulder move.

“You know, you look really cute today.” “Aw, you’re so nice, Kaminari!”

He MALFUNCTIONS. 💀

Will absolutely whine about it to the squad: “HOW DENSE CAN THEY BE?!”

Eventually just straight-up says: “Okay, but what if I wanna be more than friends?” while pouting.

🍡 Sero Hanta

He thinks it’s hilarious at first—your clueless reactions are kinda cute.

But when he casually asks, “Would you ever date a guy like me?” and you say, “Of course! You’re such a great friend!”

Bro.exe has stopped working.

He gives you SO MANY chances to realize it—lingering touches, compliments, lowkey flirting—and yet, nothing.

Will eventually just be like, “Okay, but real talk—I like you. Like, ‘hold hands and kiss��� like you.”

🍗 Kirishima Eijiro

He’s so patient but also SO SHY when it comes to actually saying the words.

Compliments you constantly: “You’re amazing, Y/N! Anyone would be lucky to date you!”

“Aww, thanks, Kiri! You’re such a good friend.”

Visible frustration but still smiling. 😃

Tries to do cute, romantic gestures—like gifting you things, taking you out for food—but you still think it’s platonic.

Eventually has to hype himself up and confess directly: “I really, really like you, Y/N—not just as a friend. Can we go out?”

💜 Shinsou Hitoshi

He thinks you’re doing this on purpose.

Like, there’s NO WAY someone can be this dense, right?

Flirts in his usual deadpan but smooth way: “You know, you’re kinda my favorite person.”

“Aww, that’s sweet, Shinsou! You’re my favorite, too.”

…bruh.

He doesn’t even get mad, just stares at you in disbelief.

One day, he straight-up asks, “What would I have to do to make you realize I like you?”

Once you finally understand, he just sighs: “Took you long enough.”

💖 CONCLUSION: The Bakusquad loves you, but LORD do you make it difficult. Someone (probably Mina) has to step in and spell it out for you. Once you finally get it, though? Worth it.

(Also my gay ass wants to add the girls too so...)

🌸 Mina Ashido

This girl is losing her mind.

Like, she is being SO OBVIOUS. Flirting? ✅ Randomly holding your hand? ✅ Cuddling up to you? ✅ Calling you her “cute little crush”? ✅

And yet, you still giggle and go, “Haha, you’re so affectionate, Mina! You’d make such a great girlfriend for someone.”

EXCUSE ME???

She screams into a pillow later.

Starts getting more and more dramatic about it. One day, she deadass twirls her hair and says: “Soooo, wanna be my girlfriend, cutie?”

“Wait… are you serious???”

She grabs you by the shoulders: “YES, I HAVE BEEN FOR MONTHS.”

Lowkey fake cries when you finally say yes because IT TOOK YOU THIS LONG. 😭

🎸 Jirou Kyoka

This woman is struggling.

She’s not as obvious as Mina, but her crush is painfully obvious to the squad.

Tries to play it cool but always blushes when you compliment her.

“You’re so talented, Jirou! I love listening to you play!”

“Pffft, whatever… thanks.” (internal gay panic)

Writes you a whole-ass song about liking someone oblivious and plays it for you.

“Wow, that’s such a relatable song! I hope your crush likes you back!”

Jirou.exe has crashed.

One day, she just gives up and straight-up says: “Dude. I like you. A lot. Please tell me you get it now.”

When you finally understand, she groans and facepalms but still hugs you super tight.

Final Thoughts:

Bakusquad (and now Mina & Jirou) are fighting for their lives.

You’re just out here thinking everyone’s super friendly while they all suffer. 😭

Someone (probably Mina or Kaminari) eventually LOCKS YOU IN A ROOM and forces you to think about it.

Once you finally get it, they all cheer and lowkey roast you for taking so long. 💀

[slamminslamminmcgill]

mm finally watched deadpool and wolverine today, and my god... 🥵 so many thoughts...

Idek which ones to put here. What do you think a p*ss kink would look like with both of them? Or just more of them making reader squirt their brains out.

The dialogue you write between them sounds so natural. Like I can literally read it in their voice. -🐮

LFGGGG thank y’all for giving me an excuse to talk abt this 🙏 i got more ideas but this post would’ve been WAYYYY too long sooo be on the lookout for more debauchery

warning: piss, anal, dp, dubcon, light degradation/humiliation, intox (alcohol for logan)

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy

as with most of the fucked up kinks y'all try in this polycule, it happens spontaneously the first time.

logan had just finished inside your ass, and out of the three of you, it takes him the longest to cum. it also takes a lot out of him. he roars and jams his claws through wade's temples (whoopsie! that's why your bed has red vinyl sheets hehe) so there's a dramatic break in the action afterwards.

"ah... hah... ngh, fuck..." he's panting, heaving almost, and slides out of your now gaping hole, "fuck, that was good..." he retracts his claws from wade’s skull, then purrs in your ear and smooches your neck, "good job, kid."

wade, still hard as steel in your cunt, claps excitedly for him. "yay! good job, YOU, peanut! UGH, i love watching you fill him up. you get so... beastly~."

you giggle, nuzzling into wade's tits, feeling goofy and content. a warm load up one hole, and a thick cock up the other.

logan smiles, kissing you on the back of your head this time. “you gonna be okay alone with him for a sec? i gotta go piss.”

"mhm!"

"'kay. i'll be right back, pumpkin." another kiss to your neck, and he's off, walking flaccidly to the bathroom, shaking his fuzzy cheeks.

you drop your head back down against wade’s chest and sigh, "i gotta piss too, actually."

"oh, yeah, yes you do, mister!" deadpool pats you on your shoulders, "always make sure to pee before, during, and after sex!"

you absentmindedly chuckle, until you realize what it is he just said, “wait… during?!"

"hey! thou shalt not knock what thou hast not tried!i know it sounds icky, but hear me out."

he thrusts upwards into you sharply

“fuck!!!”

“so! i want you to imagine…” *THRUST* “how good it’d feel…” *THRUST* “to be really filled up.” *THRUST* “and i mean FULL!” *THRUST* “like your pussy is a searing hot water balloon about to explode. and then when it does?” *THRUST* “when it all comes flooding out of you? oh darling, the relief…” he moans dramatically, gripping your hips and shifting you back and forth on his shaft, “hottest thing you’ll ever experience, i swear. there’s nothing else like it… wanna try it?”

you’re skeptical, but wade wilson is a hell of a salesman. “…fuck it. let’s do it.”

“yippee!!! okay, just gotta get soft so i can piss. dead kittens… calculus homework… grandma deadpool! there we go! okay… phew… here goes…”

it’s a tense, awkward silence as he starts. you’re not sure what to expect. then, you begin to feel it. that searing heat swelling inside you, pooling between his cock and your skin, flooding what little space there was inside you. you gasp, and attempt to squirm to cope with the sensation, but wade holds you still.

“don’t move! don’t move, my little urinal boy! mmm, i gotcha, just… just trust me on this… i’m almost done…”

“you two are fucking disgusting.”

logan’s voice coming out of nowhere makes you jump, and then wade’s piss spills out of you. and just like he told you, it feels fucking incredible. you’re twitching, spasming, moaning pure nonsense as wade fucks your drenched, desecrated cunt. loud splashing accompanies the brutal pace of his hips.

“your loss, peanut! imagine wasting your piss on the bathroom toilet when you could’ve given it to this even cuter toilet!” he pecks you on the cheek with a loud “mwah~!”

from then on, it becomes you and wade peeing on each other just to mess with him. since he’s never told y’all to stop, you both figure that he likes it, but he’s too embarrassed to admit it.

the three of y’all are showering together

“so, just asking as a throuple here, are we all pro- or anti-peeing in the shower?”

“if you get piss on me, i’ll stick my claws through your fucking corneas.”

“promise?!”

”don’t. you fucking. dare.”

“aw, boo, you’re no fun.” wade pouts, then grabs you by your wet hair and pulls your ear towards his lips. “you, though… you’re TONS of fun.” he playfully bites your ear, and then your neck. “so fun, in fact, that you’re gonna get on your knees and drink every drop of piss that i give you, right?”

i feel like the only time y’all can get logan to participate is while he’s drunk. he’s too sloshed to feel shame for it.

maybe y’all are in bed together, all cuddled up in a tangled mess of limbs, and he grumbles something about needing to take a leak.

“oh, don’t worry about getting up, honey-bun!” wade fishes under the blankets for logan’s soft cock, “lemme take care of that for you.”

“wh… the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“ugh please, don’t act like you haven’t thought about pissing down my throat. can’t i just once do something nice for you?”

he grumbles, not wanting to indulge wade, but not wanting to get up even more.“fine. whatever. i hope you choke on it.”

“oh, i will.”