#is that the point. do you want that. do you enjoy playing with his feelings. is his unwavering devotion more exciting if you can hurt him.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Eyes on the Mirror - part 1

Pairing: neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader Rating: +18, NSFW Words count: 2631 Summary: You're at a turning point in your relationship with Frankie, he tells you that his mother insists on meeting you. Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, reader wears dresses, heels and uses make-up, no other description of her is given, no mention of her skin tone and she doesn't blush, no description of her hair, Frankie can lift her but he’s a hunk of a men you know, mention of food, established relationship, enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, kissing, mention of unprotected p in v, nipples play (f receiving), oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), panties in mouth (don't know how it's called in English, I just know that I like it lol), Frankie is our canon PEK and also the perfect boyfriend okay, mention of being caught (well, to be more specific, to be heard lol), pet names. Let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: This has been a long journey and I think it took me longer than expected. Second part is coming tomorrow. It's an emotional work, it's smut, but it's smut with feelings and I think I put a lot of myself into it. So I ask you to be especially delicate. This Frankie is the same guy from You look like a fun place to sit and Give me more Anyway, let me say a few thanks because I can't believe I had two people volunteer to be my beta, I'm very lucky. Kate @aurorawritestoescape and Ally @arcanefox207 The fact alone that you took some time to read and proofread my stuff is so important to me and you have given me so many helpful suggestions and advice, I am very grateful ❤️ Thank you Odi @joelmillerisapunk , to let me blather, to cheer me up, to always have the right words, I don't know how you do it, you're literally a gem ❤️ We’re going back to the emotional unavailable men agenda asap but for the moment I hope you’ll enjoy my lover boy neighbor!Frankie who is crazy about his girl 🥰  English is not my first language, any mistake is still on me, so if you come across one I’m very sorry. Frankie Masterlist ⎮ Masterlist ⎮ part 2

You and Frankie have been together for four months now, and you’re incredibly happy. Your neighbor, the man you spent a year hating, revealed himself as the best man you’ve ever been in a relationship with. 

You haven't said “I love you” to each other yet, you're taking it slow and you're perfectly fine with that, you know you have strong feelings for him but you don't know if he's ready to say it and the last thing you want is to ruin the best relationship you've had because of words said too soon. 

So you respect his timing without forcing his hand. And still you often think you don't even really need to say it, all you really want is to keep being with him, the man who can make you laugh in a second, with whom you like to do everything from the most mundane things like grocery shopping and running errands, to talking for hours and sharing everything with him, cooking, going to parties and concerts, even bickering. 

And sex. 

Oh, Frankie is a fucking magician. 

The most shockingly fiery and at the same time sweet lover you've ever had. 

You feel you can be yourself at all times with him, he knows your flaws and frailties and accepts them. And from where you were starting out it already feels like a considerable accomplishment. You never thought that the man who used to spend time judging you, once you penetrated his armor, was actually such a tolerant and nonjudgmental person.

You haven't moved in together, but you spend almost every night together, and yet, you are still trying to navigate your relationship without making the other one run off before taking the next step.

So when Frankie tells you that his mother would love to meet you, you get a little scared but you try to put on a good face.

"You really don't mind?" he prods you. 

You can never hide anything from him; Frankie has an ability to read your mind, the talent that you had never found in a man. 

His eyes scan you and he has a cunning little smile as he’s standing on the other side of the table, eating the eggs you prepared for him. 

“Yeah, don't worry, it's okay,” you nod, your movement a little forced, and Frankie notices it. 

“You're nervous, huh? Look it's normal,” he tries to reassure you, his hand slides across the table until it meets yours. 

He squeezes it gently and then intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“I'm sorry, she's been nagging me for at least a month now, I've managed to keep her at bay until now but she grilled me yesterday and told me that she was expecting us for dinner on Friday.”

“Yeah...I just feel a little pressure, you know, but it's okay,” you admit.

“Babe, she will like you very much, I'm sure.”

You look into his eyes, those big eyes the color of coffee and chocolate, and the comfortable glow they give off immediately takes away part of the weight you feel on your chest. 

“Are you sure?” you murmur.

“Of course!” he smiles at you, ”Well, you're a little sassy but...”

You slap his hand “Frankie! You're not helping me!” you complain. 

“Come on, I'm kidding. She’s going to adore you, I have no doubt about it,” he chuckles.

“Mmmm we’ll see” you still mumble with uncertainty.

"Come here," he says softly. 

You get up and walk over to him before he welcomes you on his lap and you wrap your arms around his neck. He rests his forehead on yours looking into your eyes and repeats softly, “she will adore you…not as much as I do but she sure will”

The thing is this with him, he's been circling around that word for weeks, so you're pretty sure he's going to confess sooner or later.

"What if she doesn't like me?" you ask him and bite your lip, looking at him expectantly.

“Uh, I don't want to stop fucking you, you know... so, you'll have to stay in a clandestine relationship while I'm dating a woman, personally chosen by my mom.” 

You kiss him, muttering “god, you're so...” 

He giggles and asks "what am I like?" tightening his grip on your waist a little tighter and pulling you closer to his chest, your tits pressed against him. 

“An incredibly lovely fucking bastard.”

________________________________________

You are in the kitchen preparing dinner, which in your case means putting take-out pizza on plates, as you hear Frankie come in. 

“Hey, are you here?” 

He gave you his keys a few weeks ago to make it easier for you to get around.

“In the kitchen!” you shout to him. 

You hear his footsteps approaching from the hallway until he comes in with a bag. 

“Hey, baby.” 

You walk up to him to give him a kiss, he immediately puts down the bag and hugs you tightly. “mmm I missed you. What's for dinner?” 

“Pizza,” you tell him smiling through your eyelashes and stealing another kiss, his beard tickling your cupid's bow pleasantly “And I was thinking about…uhm…your cock for dessert.”

He squeezes your butt, chuckling, “So eager, huh?”

“For you? Always,” you purr, looking into his eyes, veiled with desire.

His stomach grumbles slightly making you giggle, “Do you want to eat first?” 

“Uh, no,” he whispers, and as he does so he slips two fingers under the straps of your dress and pulls it off, letting it slide to the floor. 

You're in your panties in front of him, no bra, he looks at you spellbound with a smirk that unknowingly puckers his lips, "do you know how beautiful you are?" 

His eyes move from your face down to the crease of your neck, your cleavage, your breasts, your stomach, slowly, as if he is drinking from your body, the source that keeps him alive. 

He takes his time, still hasn't touched you but you'd swear you've never felt more caressed than now, nurtured, sensed, accepted in your body's every disheveled and flawed manifestation.

You could swear you could moan from that alone.

When his hands approach your hips you want them so badly that you instinctively lean into them to meet his palms, the warmth of his skin welcoming you.

You cling to his broad shoulders, bringing his body closer to yours.

He lifts you up as if you weighed nothing and lays you on the kitchen countertop, next to the sink. 

Your legs hang over the edge as he commands, “open wide, baby,” and settles in between, still fully clothed. 

“Frankie, please.” 

“You know what I like?” he asks with a smirk, ”the way you light up as soon as I touch you. God, it drives me crazy the way you instantly become a needy little animal, you know that?" 

You feel your eyes heavy and your voice shaky as you repeat his question, “You know what I like? The way you know exactly what I need.”

He smiles, leaning down to your neck to bite the soft skin over your pulse point and soothing it right after with his warm tongue. 

He lowers himself onto you, leaving a trail of kisses on your beating chest, pausing on your tits and spreading his lips over your nipples, first one and then the other, caressing them with his tongue, swirling it around. You moan with each touch, tilting your head back as he sucks them harder, his beard pinching you gently, his warm lips enveloping them.

You pull his cap off and sink a hand into his dark curls. 

He knows you so well, it is as if he has memorized your every little reaction and in his mind has written himself a manual on how to make you completely lose control. 

He continues to work on your nipples, grazing them with his teeth, licking them up and down with his tongue, sucking them between his lips, hard and covering them with his saliva. His tongue goes around your areola, returning to your little pebble every time you pull his hair a little harder and mewl.

He suddenly leaves your tits and returns to your neck, you groan in disappointment but his tongue immediately soothes you trailing up to your jaw and licking over your lips, inviting them to open for him and dragging you in a sloppy, feral kiss that leaves you breathless.

His hips are rocking into you, brushing over your damp underwear while you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him against your core.

His eyes are dark with lust as he moves one of his hands over your soaked underwear, brushing your folds with his knuckles, “I’m going to make you scream my name so loudly, baby”

“That’s exactly what I want,” you prod him, biting down softly on his lower lip. “Do your magic, Morales.” 

You loosen the grip of your legs, gently pushing his shoulders to invite him to lower himself, and Frankie grumbles jokingly, "bossy". 

He kneels in front of you holding his hands down on your back, just above your butt and pushes you toward him, you falter for a moment balancing on the edge of the counter but his grip is strong and secure.

You run a hand through his curls, tugging slightly.

He licks a strip over your panties, taking the fabric between his teeth, without stopping to look at you. 

A fucking tease. 

He stills for a moment and then kisses your clit. 

Then he moves his flat tongue flat down, almost to your tight hole and then back up, again and again, lingering on your clit with quick flicks of his tongue.

The fabric of your panties is wet with his saliva as a new stream of pleasure floods you, soaking them even more.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you holler.

He looks at you mischievously. “Thinking about it… we should take some measures to make sure you stay quiet, honey, you know?” he nods to the half opened window right behind you. 

You glance back and then blurt out, “oh, whatever, let them hear us.”

Frankie chuckles at your impatience. “Do you really want to put on a show for the whole neighborhood?” 

“There are curtains, they can't see us,” you frown

“But do they need to hear us?” he says as he pulls off your panties, sliding them down your legs.

He sniffs them for a moment- “fucking sweet, darling” - while you wonder what he's going to do, then rolls them and stands back up, sneaking his hand behind your neck and looking at you authoritatively, his lips pursed in a smirk. 

He runs his thumb over your mouth, stops in the center and pushes gently, silently commanding you to open it. The moment your lips part he thrusts your panties into your mouth. “That's it, good girl” he coos.

It’s so wrong, keeping your panties in your mouth like that, your tongue numbed with the taste of it and your body tense under Frankie’s gaze. But also fucking right. 

He graciously holds his power over you, always considerate of your need while he plays with your mind in a delicious nasty way. 

He caresses your cheek, moving down to the column of your neck, wrapping his fingers around it, “Don't try to take them out or you won't get what you want,” he gently orders.  “Can you behave for me?” 

You nod.

He gives you a smirk and gets back on his knees and admires your glistening pussy for a moment. “Always so fucking wet for me,” he whispers before sinking into you again, licking and sucking on your clit and down on your folds, his nose hitting your most sensitive part. 

When you’re basically dripping on your inner thighs, he slides two fingers inside you, so easily moving over the spot he knows makes you see double.

His fingers are inside you up to his knuckles when he curls them, pushing and grasping.

You are thrown into a frenzy almost immediately as he gently hits you with his fingertips again and again, sucking avidly on your clit as you’re stifling your moans by clenching your teeth on your panties.

He laps at your folds so thoroughly, then goes back on your bundle of nerves, sloppy wet noises fill the air mixing with your gasps as he scissors and pushes into you.

He hums against you, whines evenly, you watch him through your eyelashes as he palms himself from above his jeans, seeking some relief.

He doesn’t stop until he feels your legs shake and your stifled mewls trying desperately to get out of your throat. 

Your orgasm crushes over you like a wave, leaving you quivering and breathless.

He gets back up and removes the panties from your mouth, kissing you with his mouth still smeared with your essence. 

 “You’ve been so good, baby.”

You pull him by his shirt protesting, "You haven't got anything yet, though.”

“That’s not a problem, hun, we can eat something and then you’ll eat me. Dessert, remember?” 

You giggle “deal.” 

You steal another kiss from him before slipping your dress back on and setting the table. 

As you eat you notice the bag he left in a corner by the kitchen door.

“What is that?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I almost forgot, it's a gift for you." 

You squint your eyes “For me? You didn't have to!”

Frankie smiles “I saw it in a store and thought of you. Open it.” 

You get up and go for the bag, not before giving him a kiss.

When you open the bag you find a dress. 

Very simple, black, not too low-cut, with a tulip skirt. 

As you're looking at it, leaning it over your body to see the length, Frankie suggests that you could wear it to his mother's. 

____________________________________________

“Are you ready, honey?” 

Frankie's voice is muffled by the bathroom door as you're finishing putting on your lipstick.

“Almost, you just need to help me with the zipper.”

Frankie opens the door and peeps into the bathroom.

He stops behind you, admiring you in the mirror as you stand there with your lips parted, leaning slightly over the sink, your legs slender from your heels, you wear the dress he bought you, unzipped at the back.

“Jesus, you’re a vision,” he breathes. “Maybe we should skip dinner at my mom’s.” 

He approaches you and settles his big hands firmly on your hips. 

“Come on, Frankie, be serious,” you giggle.

“I'm serious,” he replies in a rough, deep voice.

He leans down to leave a trail of kisses down the exposed skin on your back, his soft lips send shivers down your spine and you are almost on the verge of giving in. 

You set your lipstick down on the sink countertop and turn to look at him pouting

"You can't do this to me now, you know we can't skip it.” 

“Well, it might help you relax though,” he continues to flirt, his lips curved into a little smile.

You’d fall for it any other day but not now that you’re trying to figure out how to impress someone you don’t even know. 

Frankie told you something about his mom, how protective she is and overall pretty conservative, you’re the exact opposite. 

You don’t know why he stays so positive about the dinner, you’re pretty sure she will hate you.

One look from you is enough to let him know how nervous you are.

Frankie leaves a light kiss on your shoulders and says. "Okay, I'll behave, turn around." 

He pulls up his zipper looking at you in the mirror, “Anyway, I wasn’t lying, you look really beautiful.” 

You smile softly, feeling your heart fluttering.

general tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @milla-frenchy , @thundermartini , @harriedandharassed , @almostempty let me know if you want to be added or removed and I’ll do it right away. Thank you so much for reading!

[burningembers91]

Like a Dog - The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature

On Display

A Game of Cat and Mouse

Crime of Passion

Rare

Gunpowder and Lace

Synopsis: Your grey suited man has finally relinquished control

A/N: well, I did NOT see the story going this way! But, the more I write for him the more I can’t help but see him as a secret sub. He’s so dark and evil during the day, but I can see him being so needy for his woman at night. So yeah, I guess this is now a Sub!Salesman storyline 🤗 but he’s still completely insane

Also, for the alleyway scene in this fic, I was deffo picturing this gif:

There was something so intimate about relinquishing control. It gave him a sense of freedom he’d never felt before, a kind of peace he was sure he’d never know. Since telling you his name, his world had altered, had taken on a new meaning. He was always so sure he’d wanted to control you, to torture you until you broke; it was a force of habit, really. He’d always been good at breaking things, of tearing even the strongest people down until they were nothing but withered shells. But somewhere along the line, his desires towards you had changed. You’d brought something new to his life; love.

It was an odd feeling, one that he’d never felt before. He’d been so sure that he was entirely incapable of feeling anything towards any living thing, and at first it at felt uncomfortable. It was uncomfortable the way his heart physically ached for you, the feeling seeping down into the pit of his stomach in a wave of delicious heat that tied itself in knots around his senses. At first he’d been sure he was having a heart attack, or possibly a stroke, but he was convinced that neither of those things were supposed to feel pleasurable, not like he felt when he was with you. He missed you when you weren’t around, and craved you when you were. He was like a loyal dog, blindly following you whenever you went.

He found it hard to concentrate at work, always wondering what you were doing. He wanted to know how your day was, what you were having for lunch, what time you’d be home, how the kids in your classes were getting on. Love was inconvenient, love was a distraction, but he was beyond the point of caring. He’d almost made mistakes at work, and mistakes in his job were simply out of the question. He had to figure out a way of getting you out of his head, had to find a way to block you from his brain during the day. But no matter how hard he tried, you always managed to worm your way back in.

You were living with him now, his desire to be with you so strong that he simply couldn’t face living apart. He enjoyed seeing your things in his home; your perfumes and lotions next to his cologne, your clothes hanging up next to his in the closet. He found himself excited to come home, to bask in the domestic mundanity of ordinary life. You liked to read, and the two of you would lie across his expansive leather sofa, his head in your lap as you played with his hair, both engrossed in your own novels. He was worried you were making him weak, turning him into the kind of man he enjoyed breaking. There were days he couldn’t make it until the evening to see you, showing up at your school to meet you for lunch, or walking you home after the day had ended.

He allowed you full control in the bedroom, bending to your every will and desire. He was so pitifully grateful on the nights you gave him the power back, allowing him to feel in control again for a brief moment. But you were the one calling the shots now, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t care.

As his love for you grew however, so did his disdain for others. He’d always been the jealous type, had never liked to share. He found it harder to maintain his cool when you were out, his eyes constantly scanning the crowds to see if anyone had the gall to try and undress you with their eyes. There was always someone he could pick out, someone who looked at you the wrong way, who walked a little too close to you. One day when you stopped for coffee, a man had the audacity to queue jump, pushing past you as if you were invisible. That man ended up with a broken nose and two black eyes, left to cower in the alleyway behind the cafe as your grey suited man stamped repeatedly on his ribs until you told him to stop. He’d been a fool to think you were making him weak; you were only making him stronger.

You still had so many questions about the man who worshipped you like you were a goddess. You knew he was dangerous; had seen him take a man’s life and beat another one almost to death because they had disrespected you. He’d gone from stalking you like a cat stalks a mouse to begging for your attention, your validation. He was a man who would crawl through broken shards of glass if you asked him to. You knew virtually nothing about his family, only that he had parents, but he no longer spoke to them. You never met any of his friends, never met any of his colleagues. Your belief about his job in sales and recruitment was dubious. He dressed in custom Versace suits and Prada loafers, and you didn’t know any sales job that paid that well. You were hesitate to quiz him though; he treated you like royalty, giving you everything you’d desired and more, along with an undying, almost obsessive love he showered you in.

As much as he loved you, he couldn’t quite bring himself to say it. It was a terrifying word, one that had never left his lips before. He’d never even told his parents that he loved them, because in truth he hadn’t. Until you came along, he viewed everyone with a quiet distaste. People were a nuisance, a waste of time unless they had something you needed. He hoped you knew how much he loved you though, hoped his devotion to you showed through his actions. He showered you in gifts, did everything around the house so you never had to lift a finger, marked your students essays on the nights you were too tired. He was your servant in the bedroom, living only to please you.

He’d been scared at first, scared when he realised he was happy to let you dominate him. He’d always been in control, had always been the one calling the shots, but he’d never realised how good it could feel to be the one treated like a dog. He found immense pleasure in fulfilling your every desire, of letting you use him like a toy. His work required him to always be alert, to always ensure no one bested him. It became a relief to come home at night and allow himself to be told what to do.

He was enjoying this life with you, a life of domestic bliss he never thought he’d crave. You were by no means a conventional couple, but it worked for you.

You knew he had a dark side, had seen it many times. And yet he played the doting boyfriend so well. You didn’t care how dangerous he was, how devilish his desires were when it came to toying with others. With you, he craved nothing but your love and respect. And you were happy to give it to him, your submissive, grey suited man.

[thethronezone]

Lion messing up his first ever relationship. He meets a baseline soldier who he gets to know and work with during a campaign and develops feelings for them. Soldier likes him too and at the end of the campaign, they finally do the deed. It's wonderful, they both have a great time and enjoy themselves.

Now here is where Lion fucks up.

After they have finished having sex and the solider has fallen asleep, he gets a message that him and his legion is needed elsewhere. And Lion, being the fucking idiot he is, leaves without a single word. He doesn't wake the soldier up and explain the situation, he doesn't even leave a note. Just gets armored and leaves in the middle of the night with his entire legion. Oh, he plans on pursuing and committing to this relationship, he really likes this human after all, they make him feel happy. It's just gonna be a long-distance relationship for now.

Except the soldier doesn't know this (BECAUSE LION DIDN'T FUCKING TELL THEM SHIT) so they just wake up that morning to Lion gone, the Dark Angels and their Primarch already off planet, and assume that he just wanted to fool around and play with them. This, of course, breaks their heart. But do they fall into despair? Do they cry to their friends? NO. They decide that this is a sign to never open their heart up again and to focus on their military career. Fuck falling in love, they are going to make a name for themself and forget about that stupid Primarch!

So flash forward a few years into the future. Soldier is now a general and is leading the army against a xeno's threat that's quickly getting out of hand. And who do they receive as backup? LION EL'JONSON AND THE DARK ANGELS.

Lion is happy (in his own quiet, gruff way) to see who he considers his lover again. Then he gets confused because why are they being so difficult all of a sudden? They appear upset but he can't imagine why. Meanwhile, the general is quietly seething, having to refrain from calling him all the slurs they know because he is still their superior officer. They are still very passive aggressive though.

I imagine that at some point, Lion goes to one of his brothers and asks them for advice. Probably Fulgrim or something, since Lion knows that he's been married multiple times. And his Fulgrim is just GOBSMACKED at his idiocity.

Fulgrim: "What did they have to say when you had to leave so soon after consummating the relationship?"

Lion: "Nothing, they were still asleep."

Fulgrim: "Well then, what did the note you left say?"

Lion: "... What note?"

Fulgrim: "YOU LEFT WHILE THEY WERE ASLEEP AND DIDN'T EVEN LEAVE A NOTE EXPLAINING YOURSELF!?"

Lion: "... I thought the situation was obvious."

Fulgrim: *screams into his hands*

[asha-mage]

BingLiuShen au where Shen Qingqiu's fevered heteronormativity poisoned brain decides that the best way to avoid dying for the crime of being a heterosexual male in a stallion novel is to pretend not to be heterosexual and thus not a threat to the protagonist's harem. He figures if he can hit that sweet spot where his (supposed! Not real at all!) sexuality is just a quirk of the beloved mentor then the narrative will have no choice but to keep him alive. Airplane might be a hack, but he's exactly the sort of hack who would put in a token gay character, then shunt them off to the background, only to be trotted out again when he's getting flack in the comments for sexist, homophobic, and/or generally shitty writing decisions.

And for Shen Yuan, whose stated life goal is to idle away the hours in luxury and occasionally bask in Binghe's protagonisty coolness (in a very heterosexual way of course!) that would be the perfect out. There's just one problem- how does he demonstrate his (definitely fake!) homosexuality without playing into homophobic tropes and getting himself killed for offending the genre's aggressively het sensibilities?

The answer? Pretend to be pinning away silently in unrequited love for another man. It's perfect! All he has to do is drop a few extremely subtle hints in Binghe's hearing implying having feelings he would never act on for say, Liu Qingge, and he'll be golden. After all, what person attracted to men (which he isn't!) wouldn't fall immediately in love with the Bai Zhan War God? It has the added benefit of proving what a good Token Gay he is by the fact that he saved Liu Qingge's life without any expectations or hopes and without ever even revealing his (supposed!) feelings.

Shen Qingqiu gets about a week of feeling like a genius after putting this plot into motion before Liu Qingge starts showing up at Qing Jing with small gifts and pastries and asking to spar, and well. In between melting down (because how on earth did he put it together from the grand total of three entirely ambiguous hints he dropped!) and trying to stay composed (because even the straightest guy- which he is!- would get flustered by having Liu Qingge smiling at him Like That) he figures the only rational thing to do is just Commit To the Bit, resign himself to one day becoming cultivation partners with Liu Qingge and retiring together into the background of future plot shenanigans. Their are clearly no other possible ways of dealing with this situation, and hey being with Liu Qingge of all people isn't bad. That's a fan favorite character and he's stupidly handsome and brave and kind! Shen Qingqiu could do a lot worse, especially in a world like PIDW. In fact given the alternatives, Shen Qingqiu's could probably consider himself incredibly lucky. Objectively that is. From a purely 'guy trying to survive this dumb novel' point of view. It would be an honor to have Liu Qingge's arms wrapped around him. If he where into men of course.

Meanwhile you have Luo Binghe in the background of every scene the two are in with a forced smile, internally speed running the '*fork in garbage disposal noises*' to 'I just want my Shizun to be happy! I swear!' to 'actually Liu-shishu is really nice I can see what Shizun sees in him' to 'oh no I think I want to be in the Middle Of Whatever That Is' arc.

(And of course, Binghe at the end of the day IS the protagonist, and after much trial and tribulation, is supposed to get exactly what he wants...)

And all the while you have Liu Qingge, utterly oblivious to the mental anguish and gymnastics of his shidi and shizi, who just keeps turning up at Qing Jing, because he really does like Shen Qingqiu and even if that first date was his sister's idea he's found he really does enjoy spending time with Shen Qingqiu, and also Shen Qingqiu's sticky first disciple who despite the crocodile tears is actually clearly pretty strong. He has no idea that Shen Qingqiu is silently picking out drapery for the future house while Luo Binghe tries to rationalize his out of control heartbeat as a completely normal side effect of the sparring match they just fought (Which he only keeps challenging Liu-shishu to make sure he's strong enough to protect Shizun! He swears!).

WIll the three of them ever figure it out and get their act together? Sure. Will they do it before the Conference/Abyss arc upends everything? Absolutely not.

[fangdokja]

🔞You like them crazy because deep down, you are too.

❤︎ Synopsis. Your favorite yandere is a walking red flag, and honestly, you’re just obsessed with the idea of being loved to the point of insanity. You want someone who’ll choke you with affection (literally), and hey, that says a lot about your choices… and your taste in men.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Jujutsu Kaisen Males (Gojo, Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Megumi, Yuji, Inumaki, Kenjaku, Shiu Kong) x Fem. Reader (separate)

♡ Headcanon. What Your Favorite Yandere Says About Your Interesting Kinks

♡ Word Count. 4,055

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, general non-con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, hints at rough play and sex, psychological and emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, threats

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age. This post is meant to be a fun, exaggerated meme—don’t take it too seriously. It’s all in good humor and not a deep psychological analysis (but maybe a little bit).

♡ A/N. So, I enjoyed making the Genshin shiz post and decided to make a JJK version. Might do a HSR one next as well... maybe. Also... I kinda went overboard here, compared to the more organized Genshin one, but seriously I was laughing while writing this. Just funny shiz post. I would say this one's more explicit though haha (no explicit sex), I had way too much fun haha, especially Naoya's and Kenjaku's.

♡ Gojo Satoru.

You have a god complex by association. You want someone who could obliterate the entire planet, but instead, he chooses to stalk your Instagram at 3 a.m. to overanalyze your cryptic "feeling lonely" post.

You’re into men who act like they’re God’s gift to humanity, and honestly? You believe them. You probably like bratty tops who think they’re in control but low-key need to be chained down before they destroy Tokyo because you wouldn’t let them kiss you.

You like men who are unbearable, but in a way that makes you want to lick their face instead of slap it. You saw him take his blindfold off once and immediately decided you’d risk everything for a man who can and will ruin your life with a smirk. Therapy? Never heard of it, because why would you need that when you’re obsessed with a 6'3" man-child whose idea of foreplay is showing off while making you think it’s all about you? Spoiler: it’s not. It’s about him, and you’re fine with it.

You like the idea of someone worshipping you, but also low-key want them to ruin you mentally, emotionally, and physically—preferably in that order.

But you’re still into being spoiled rotten—designer everything, sugar daddy vibes, and someone who’d probably keep you locked in a gilded cage. You pretend you have standards, but deep down, you’re just into being treated like you’re the rarest Pokémon in existence.

You don’t want a boyfriend—you want an all-seeing sugar daddy who gaslights you into thinking the world revolves around him (because in his mind, it does). You probably love the idea of being tied up in a metaphorical (or literal, no judgment) infinity of his obsession. Big on tease and denial, huh?

You’ve definitely thought about what his infinity could do in a make-out session and probably Googled "can Gojo turn infinity off during sex." (No, you’re not getting an answer to that.)

You're also into being teased until you're on the verge of tears, only for him to laugh and say, "Aw, you're so cute when you're frustrated," while continuing to absolutely destroy you. Bonus points if he calls you sweetheart in that condescending, sing-song voice while pinning you to the bed with one hand.

You're also into blindfolds… probably for the aesthetic, but we all know you’re fantasizing about what comes after he takes it off. You’re not scared of being kidnapped, you’re scared of never being spoiled again.

You’re also the type of person who screenshots memes and sends them 3 weeks later without context.

♡ Ryōmen Sukuna.

You're feral. You don’t want love—you want to be destroyed. You want a man who’ll treat you like garbage and somehow it’s hot. "I can fix him" but also, "I don’t want to fix him. Step on me, Daddy."

Your idea of romance is someone who could rip your heart out (literally) and then hold it hostage as you beg for his attention. You’re also too into biting. If he left a handprint bruise on your neck, you’d frame it. Low-key fantasize about getting kidnapped because you think you’d be “too bratty to kill,” and he’d find that cute.

You’re into primal domination, teeth marks, and being pinned against the wall while he laughs at your “attempt” to fight back.

You think it’s hot when men are morally bankrupt and would rather die than be called soft. You definitely believe in Stockholm Syndrome as a viable love language.

This man could call you maggot filth and you’d be texting your friends, “Sukuna said he cared about me today 🥰.” You secretly want him to slap you so hard you see the Cursed Realm.

The worse he treats you, the harder you simp. If he kills your whole family, you’d probably just be like, “They were annoying anyway, babe.”

You’re into primal play, possessiveness, and hearing “you’re mine” growled into your ear like it’s a death sentence (which, with Sukuna, it might be).

You definitely have unresolved trauma and thought “you know what would help? A walking red flag with abs.” You want someone so feral they’d burn down a village just because someone looked at you for 0.2 seconds. Also, you like men who are literally impossible to please because the idea of “earning his love” gets you off.

Your kinks? Pain. Not just physical—emotional, spiritual, metaphysical. You’re the type who thinks choking is romantic foreplay and that love should feel like a hostage situation.

You act like you hate red flags, but you’re planting them in your garden, watering them, and crying when they bloom. Therapy is not in your vocabulary.

You’re deeply into degradation and secretly believe you could “fix him.” Spoiler alert: you can’t, but you’ll die trying. You probably tweet things like “If a man doesn’t put me in his domain expansion, does he even love me?”

Bonus points if you’ve searched for Sukuna x Reader fics where he calls you pathetic but won’t let anyone else touch you.

We see you, masochist. We see you.

You also have daddy issues so big that Sukuna would probably laugh in your face while exploiting them. You’re a masochist in denial and definitely want him to choke you out with those extra hands.

You’ve 100% Googled "can I sell my soul for demon dick" and meant it. You're 100% into monsterfucking. Your search history also includes "tentacle bondage" and "can cursed energy be sexy?"

♡ Suguru Geto.

You have a superiority complex and an inferiority complex. You want someone who’ll emotionally devastate you while maintaining the vibe of a calm, manipulative cult leader. You think you’re classy, but we both know you’re just a slut for a man who says “we need to cleanse the world” like he’s ordering wine at a fancy restaurant.

You think cult leader chic is hot. Your dream date is being kidnapped and indoctrinated into a religious group. You’re into soft-spoken manipulation and think “he didn’t abandon me, he abandoned humanity.”

You want someone who sees you as the one good thing in a world full of “monkeys,” but also you secretly like the idea of being his religion.

You’ll excuse literal genocide because "he’s got a point."

You want someone who hates everyone else but you. Like, he would literally commit mass murder just so you can have a peaceful walk in the park. Into spiritual awakening, but make it horny. Imagine him whispering sacrilegious promises in your ear while surrounded by cursed spirits. That’s your vibe.

You’re the kind of person who’d get Stockholm Syndrome after two days and start quoting his manifesto back to him. He’d probably love-bomb you, use you for his master plan, and then leave you to pick up the pieces. And you’d thank him for it.

You’re into praise kink but only if it’s delivered in a soft yet condescending tone while you’re kneeling in front of him. You want someone who’ll call you his “favorite pet” while subtly threatening to end your bloodline if you step out of line.

Your other kinks? Corruption. You’re into “turning to the dark side” scenarios, and the idea of being brainwashed is weirdly hot to you. Maybe you need a therapist, but Geto would probably convince you therapists are a scam.

You probably daydream about scenarios where you “fix” him, but let’s be honest—you’d fold faster than a lawn chair if he so much as smirked at you. You want a man who looks like he listens to lo-fi while murdering people. You also have unresolved issues with wanting to “save” someone who’s already beyond saving.

You’re down bad for emotionally unavailable men who’ll manipulate you into thinking you’re special. Also, you think long hair = good in bed, and you’re not wrong.

Hair-pulling kink? Try him pulling yours while telling you you’re his only salvation.

Also, he probably tells you to call him master, and you’re into it.

Also, you’re a sucker for men who look like they haven’t slept in 10 years but can still bench press you emotionally.

♡ Naoya Zen'in.

You hate him. You absolutely despise him. And yet, why are you blushing when he calls you a stupid little slut?

You have daddy issues, but instead of unpacking them, you decided to make them worse by stanning this sexist menace. You hate him, but that’s the appeal.

Congratulations, you’re a walking meme of bad decisions, and your search history definitely includes “toxic alpha male x reader.” You don’t even want a healthy relationship—you want to be insulted creatively until you're crying, and then have him smirk while telling you how pretty you look when you break.

You tell people you hate misogyny but get weak in the knees when he says “stay in your place, woman.” You want someone who’ll treat you like garbage, then be jealous when other people try to respect you.

You think Naoya calling you a “stupid little girl” is the height of romance (because if you’re into him, you’re already used to disrespect).

100% into punishment kinks. The idea of Naoya spanking you until you cry and then calling you a “good little servant” lives rent-free in your head.

You have issues in general—daddy, mommy, and probably every other flavor. You like them toxic because boring men don’t deserve rights. You thrive in arguments, especially if you’re the one winning.

You have the worst taste in men, and you know it. You actively choose violence. You think hate sex fixes everything. Spoiler: it doesn’t. But you’ll still keep coming back for more.

You either have a degradation kink or you’re lying to yourself. You want someone to look you in the eyes and call you pathetic while simultaneously making you feel like the most desired person alive.

Into degradation? No, you’re into obliteration. You want to be called the most heinous names and still hear him say, “Good girl” after. If he spit in your mouth, you’d say “thank you” like it’s a five-star Yelp review.

You're the type to start arguments on purpose because makeup sex is your Olympic sport. You think misogyny is hot as long as it's directed at everyone but you (spoiler: Naoya’s a yandere, so he’ll worship you, but he’ll still be the absolute worst).

Brat taming. You want Naoya to slam you against a wall and hiss, "You're so mouthy for someone who's about to beg for mercy," and you’d call him an asshole just to see him lose it.

You also have a breeding kink, don’t lie.

You’re into enemies-to-lovers with 90% enemies and 10% begrudging affection.

You’re probably the most unhinged of them all. Like, “I hate him but also step on me” vibes. You’d start a fight with him for fun, only to let him win because he’s hotter when he’s smug. Also, your type in men is the human embodiment of the patriarchy, and that says a lot.

You also secretly love being called slurs in bed, and you’d let him ruin your life if it meant he’d pay attention to you. You tell people you don’t believe in second chances, yet you’d give him 47.

Naoya IS your red flag, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You’re also that person who gets mad when people insult your favorite character, even though your fave literally deserves it.

♡ Megumi Fushiguro.

You're into the quiet ones, but let’s be real, you know he’s one bad day away from snapping and going full “yandere shadow puppeteer” on you. You want someone who’s obsessively loyal, even to the point of chaining you to a radiator “for your safety.”

You’re that person who says, “I can fix him,” and you believe it. Spoiler: you can’t.

Soft yandere vibes are your weakness. You want him to apologize for locking you up and then immediately do it again. You cry during sex, and Megumi is your dream man because he’d hold you gently while fucking you senseless.

You’re basically the emotionally repressed type who cries over sad anime but denies having feelings. You low-key want to be fixed, but you also get off on being the problem.

Silent, brooding types who lose control just for you. You’d die if Megumi whispered, "I don’t care what happens to the world, as long as I have you," while dragging his nails down your skin.

You want a yandere who doesn’t look like one. You’re basically into emotionally constipated men who will quietly destroy anyone that looks at you wrong, but they’ll do it with zero fanfare.

Pretends he’s not obsessed, but you find out he’s been tracking your location via his Shikigami for weeks.

Slow burn? Try agonizingly torturous burn. You love the suffering.

Your kinks? Praise and ownership. You want a boyfriend who’ll carve your name into his soul and blush when you call him a good boy. You also cry during movies about dogs.

You fantasize about wholesome dates that spiral into him casually committing arson because someone looked at you the wrong way. You think being protected is sexy, but deep down, you know you’re the real danger.

You have main character syndrome, but you’re too awkward to admit it. You think you can “fix” people and are always attracted to brooding, emotionally unavailable boys. You’re the type to fall for someone because of their tragic backstory and spend hours analyzing their behavior like you’re trying to win a Nobel Prize.

People think you’re quiet and reserved, but deep down, you’re the freakiest person in the room.

Also, you want his demon dogs involved somehow, and we’re not unpacking that.

♡ Yuji Itadori.

You think sunshine boys are the ultimate bait-and-switch. You want someone sweet and wholesome on the surface but capable of going feral if someone threatens what’s his (spoiler: it’s you).

You’re into soft yanderes who make you think, “Wait, am I the villain here?” But then he kisses you with tears in his eyes and says, “I just don’t know what I’d do without you,” and you’re like, “Oh okay, my bad, ruin my life I guess.”

You’re delusional and think nice guys finish first. You believe you can fix him, even though there’s nothing broken except his moral compass after meeting Sukuna.

Your kinks? Consent (most stan a green flag king), but also low-key primal. You want someone who’s soft and sweet but will absolutely ruin you when pushed too far. Also, you’re probably into breathy whimpers.

You’re into soft yandere energy, like him cooking you dinner while thinking about how to “disappear” your coworker for complimenting your outfit. You also have a praise kink, but you want it to feel genuine. You’re high-key a romantic but still enjoy the thrill of danger.

You’re the type to fall for cinnamon rolls, but you secretly want them to have a feral, toxic side. You pretend to be wholesome but you’re just as depraved as the Sukuna stans—you just hide it better. Also, you’d probably call him “puppy” in bed, and he’d eat it up.

You probably fantasize about “accidentally” walking in on him shirtless after training.

You’re into strength kink. Yuji carrying you around like a sack of potatoes is your idea of foreplay.

If Yuji’s your fave, you’re into the gentle dom who’d snap someone’s neck for you aesthetic. He’d die for you, but he’d also kill for you. And you’re oddly okay with that.

Bonus points if you want to corrupt him because you think it’d be hot to see him snap.

You’re also the type to fall in love with someone because they smiled at you once in 2017.

♡ Toge Inumaki.

You want someone who won’t talk back. Literally. You think communication is overrated and fantasize about a partner who’ll just look at you with hungry eyes while whispering forbidden words into your ear.

You’re the quiet type who wants absolute filth whispered into your ear.

You want to be whispered sweet nothings like "sleep" and then wake up in his bed with a collar on. The duality of “onigiri” and “shut the fuck up” does things to you.

The idea of hearing nothing but the word “come” and losing your mind sends you feral.

You’re into restraint—both the literal and metaphorical kind. You’ve imagined him using cursed speech in the bedroom, and you know exactly how you’d want him to shut you up. You definitely think subtlety is sexier than overt passion.

You claim you like soft boys, but really, you’re just waiting for him to whisper something filthy in that raspy voice.

You’re into the duality of him being both your sweet protector and your most dangerous weakness.

You think “silent but deadly” is hot, but you also have a thing for guys who communicate through body language and emotional gestures. You probably have a Tumblr tag called “soft yanderes” that’s full of questionable content.

Your kinks? Teasing. You want to be pinned down, held firmly, and whispered sweet nothings in cursed speech that leave you trembling. Also, bondage. Don't not lie to yourself.

You think you’re subtle, but everyone knows you have a thing for quiet guys with devastatingly good bone structure. You’re also into the idea of being “the only one” who truly understands him. Let’s be real: you’d let him ruin your life with three words or less.

You’ve definitely thought about what those cursed speech commands could do in the bedroom, haven’t you? Don’t lie. “Stay.” “Kneel.” “Louder.” It’s a problem. You think you’re subtle, but the fact that you bookmarked that one smut fic about him proves otherwise.

You’ve also Googled "what does ‘salmon’ mean in bed" and debated buying a Toge cosplay for your next convention.

♡ Kenjaku.

You’re insane. Full stop.

You’re the type who’d fall for the villain just because they’re hot.

You tell yourself it’s because you “appreciate complex characters,” but it’s really because you have no self-preservation instincts. You’re also probably into weird shiz like non-human anatomy, but you’ll never admit it.

Let’s be honest: you’ve considered the implications of his ability to switch bodies. Your fantasies are wild, and you need a moment to collect yourself.

You want someone who’s both your daddy and mommy because Kenjaku’s body-hopping antics make that possible. Extreme levels of psychological manipulation and kinky body horror. A true deviant.

You’ve definitely read an NSFW fic about body possession and didn’t even flinch. You like the idea of someone who will tear your life apart but still call you their “greatest creation.”

You’re a mess. Like, emotionally and spiritually. You’ve been reading dark fanfics for so long that nothing fazes you anymore.

You don’t want love—you want chaos. You like characters who are 50% sexy and 50% terrifying. You probably think brain surgery is hot. You’re also into weird power dynamics where you’re both the victim and the accomplice.

You think mad scientist energy is hot, and you’d probably let him experiment on you just for the intimacy of it. You’re into power play and mind games, and the idea of someone controlling you physically and mentally is your ultimate kink. You’d sell your soul for five minutes of his attention, and he knows it. Your moral compass? Nonexistent. You just want to get tied up and brainwashed by a centuries-old freak.

You think it’s hot that he’d use your body as part of his experiments. You’d let him ruin your entire lineage for “science.”

You’re not even into happy endings; you just want to be obliterated.

♡ Shiu Kong.

If your favorite yandere is Shiu Kong, congratulations—you’re into men who could ruin your life with one smirk and a casual drag off their cigarette. You like your chaos with a suit and tie, and you’re absolutely weak for someone who looks like they’d call you “kid” while tying you to a chair in a dimly lit room. You’ve definitely fantasized about being the center of his cold, calculated obsession, probably while he’s adjusting his cufflinks and making morally questionable business deals.

You love the idea of a man who’s emotionally unavailable but physically possessive. Shiu wouldn’t say he loves you, but he’d definitely let you know you’re his. You probably have a thing for the cold, calculated type who’ll throw you a smirk that says, “You won’t survive me, but you’ll die happy.” Let’s be honest—you want someone who treats you like a business deal but kisses you like he’s closing the contract with teeth and tongue.

You’re into men who handle their business—and by business, we mean kidnapping, extortion, and murder with a side of snark. You probably tell yourself you’re into “stoic bad boys,” but let’s be real, you just want a man who can pin you against a wall and growl something like, “Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart.” Bonus points if it’s in a low, gravelly voice that makes your knees weak.

You’re the type to think a cigarette dangling from his lips while he manhandles you is peak romance. He’d pin you to a desk, adjust his suit jacket, and ask, “Do you really think anyone else could handle you like this?” in that calm, businesslike tone that makes you feral. You like being dominated by someone who looks like they just closed a multi-million-yen deal, and you want him to ruin you in the same suit he wore to work.

You want someone who exudes “don’t waste my time” energy but secretly has the patience to torment you until you’re begging (for mercy or more, who’s to say?). You saw him in that suit and immediately thought, “I wonder if he’d use that belt on me?” Spoiler: he would, but only after lighting a cigarette and telling you to be quiet.

You fantasize about someone who’ll say, “Don’t get attached,” while making you fall so hard you’re practically writing your own kidnapping ransom note.

You’re also into the grudging protector trope—he’ll act like he’s just “handling business,” but the second someone else looks at you wrong, you know he’s flipping tables and snarling something like, “They should’ve known better.” Bonus points if he dusts himself off afterward and says, “Clean yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve got plans for us.”

“I’ll only associate with you in hell” energy that screams hot and toxic.

———

P.S. Actually fun fact, among all JJK yanderes, I enjoy writing Kenjaku the most.

────────────

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General TAG LIST of “Forbidden Fruits”: @uniquecutie-puffs , @ikevampharem , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk , @xileonaaaa , @acacia-koi , @purple-obsidian , @waterfal-ling , @jjune-07 , @jsprien213 , @crimson-kisses , @tinandabin , @sashakittycloud

[bitchface24-7]

Hi V! I was wondering if you felt comfortable doing a fluff fic of reader x viktor or jayce comforting reader on her period ?

All goods if you can't!!

I really enjoy your writing and I live all the attention to detail you put into your stories !!

THIS SUCKS… - VIKTOR & JAYCE X READER

synopsis: you're on your period, you feel bloated, agitated, and your stomach hurts. You can't tell if you're hungry, if you're cramping, or if you really need to shit. Your lovely boyfriend sees you struggling, and takes care of you the best he can.

warnings: menstruation (obviously), pain, fluffy fluff of our boys taking care of us.

genre: m/f or gn/m

p.s. I'm going to write this in the style of bullet points. Also, why not get both? This isn't Jayvik, so if you prefer one over the other, you can just read one part. Love ya! ❤️

VIKTOR X READER

You dread everytime your menstrual cycle hits you. It's painful, messy, and makes you agitated at the littlest things.

It makes you unintentionally be snippy with Viktor, something that upsets you even more since he hasn't done anything to deserve that treatment.

He's incredibly understanding. As someone who deals with chronic pain he understands that pain can make you act in ways that you typically wouldn’t.

Your pain may not be 24/7, but he knows it comes once a month for a week straight.

He has pain killers, a heated weighted blanket, and light food that surprisingly fills you up ready for you.

He’ll even make you sweet milk when you ask for it.

You typically do parallel play, he’ll continue to work, but he’ll make sure he's in the same room as you.

More times than not, he's cuddled up with you in bed, your pleading eyes and pouty lips will be his downfall. He can never say no to you.

Viktor makes this part of your life so much easier, and you can't thank him enough for it.

(its actually his way of thanking you. You take care of him all the time. Adjusting his spinal brace, his leg brace, making sure he has his cane. Helping him take off his assistive devices when he asks. Making sure he eats, he sleeps. He appreciates your care and love more than you'll ever know. So he tries his best to help you when you need it.)

JAYCE X READER

Jayce has a good idea how to take care of menstruation aches and pains. He's practically Cait’s older brother. He was around when she went through puberty.

It was not a pretty sight.

He knows you'll crave sweets, chips, sushi, fried chicken, really anything super flavourful and bad for you.

He knows teas help with cramps, so do heating pads, and lightly massaging your lower abdomen.

He knows you'll alternate between wanting to be alone, and being cuddled.

He knows you'll accidentally get snippy, feel bad, and want to hug him.

He knows it all.

It’s like it was ingrained into him on how to take care of you. He just appreciates that the hellish years he had to deal with a pubescent Cait paid off in the end.

(no he swears she was going to kill him at one point)

Being able to cook delicious food because of his mama makes it even better. He’ll make so much food you honestly wont know where to start. But they'll for sure be something there you can stomach.

They'll always be there to take care of you ❤️

Hi Anon! Thank you for the compliment! Sorry this is much shorter than you probably expected, I just don't deal with my period often? I go like one to three months in-between cycles and I just take care of myself when it happens. I medicate myself and essentially sleep away the pain for a day and a half, then I'm back to normal, I’m just bleeding now as well.

The longest time I went without a period was six months back in 2022 (I was 20 and had gotten it in November after my assumption of extremely early onset menopause LMAO, after that I got a tracker app to help me remember when I get it) and no I was not pregnant. Unless I’m Mother Mary reborn, that wouldn’t be possible.

[kathlare]

tension on the field

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: In a charity football match at Wembley, Lando faces unexpected tension when he encounters Rodrigo, Amelie's ex.

Wordcount: 1.5 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

June 2nd, 2024 - London, United Kingdom

The warm June sun was casting a golden glow over Wembley Stadium as Lando arrived at the PlayStation Cup match. A private event that brought together influencers, athletes, and celebrities for a charity football game, it was the perfect blend of competition and fun. Lando had always enjoyed football—it was one of the few sports he played just for the love of it, rather than the pressure to perform. Today, though, he wasn’t just here to show off his skills. He wanted to represent himself well, to keep proving that he was more than just the boy who drove fast cars.

The stadium echoed with the sound of players chatting and laughing as Lando stepped onto the pristine pitch. It felt surreal to be at Wembley, even without the roaring crowd. He adjusted the white captain's armband PlayStation had handed him and scanned the field. A mix of famous faces mingled, some already warming up with the ball. He spotted a few people he recognized—streamers he’d gamed with, actors he admired, even some fellow athletes.

But his casual smile faltered when his eyes landed on Rodrigo Riquelme.

Rodrigo was standing near the center circle, juggling a football with effortless precision. His sharp features were illuminated by the sunlight, his confidence evident in the way he moved. Lando’s stomach twisted uncomfortably as recognition hit him. Rodrigo wasn’t just another footballer—he was him. Amelie’s ex.

Lando hadn’t known Rodrigo would be here. Nobody had mentioned it when he’d agreed to come. The irritation bubbled beneath the surface as he watched Rodrigo glance up and meet his gaze. The footballer’s smirk was immediate, like he knew exactly what Lando was thinking.

Forcing himself to stay calm, Lando gave a small nod in acknowledgment before looking away. He wasn’t going to let Rodrigo get under his skin. Not here. Not now.

As the event organizer called everyone together to go over the match rules, Lando found himself grouped with a mix of players. Rodrigo, of course, ended up on the opposing team. Lando could feel his stare from across the field, a constant, heavy presence. He tried to focus on the game instead.

But Rodrigo made it impossible.

From the very first whistle, it was clear Rodrigo was out to make a point. His tackles were just a little too hard, his comments just a little too sharp. When Rodrigo blocked one of Lando’s shots, he turned with a smug grin.

—Better luck next time, mate.—

Lando clenched his jaw but didn’t respond. It wasn’t worth it. Not yet. Instead, he focused on getting back into the game, his competitive side kicking in. If Rodrigo wanted to play dirty, fine. Lando would let his skills do the talking.

The match progressed with tension simmering between them. Lando managed to score a clean goal midway through, his teammates cheering as he jogged back to his position. Rodrigo, however, couldn’t resist a dig.

—Impressive. Guess you can aim when it’s not a steering wheel.—

Lando stopped in his tracks, turning to face Rodrigo. His voice was calm, but his eyes were cold.

—Funny. I could say the same about you, considering you couldn’t hold onto the real prize.—

Rodrigo’s smirk faltered for a split second, but he recovered quickly, stepping closer to Lando.

—And what would you know about it? You’ve been playing house for, what, six months? Amelie doesn’t belong with you. She deserves someone who understands her world, someone who can actually be there for her.—

Lando’s chest tightened, anger flaring. He took a step closer too, lowering his voice so only Rodrigo could hear.

—You can say whatever you want, mate, but at the end of the day, I’m still the name she moans every night.—

The words hit their mark. Rodrigo’s face darkened, his hands balling into fists.

—You little shit—

Rodrigo lunged, but one of the event organizers quickly stepped in, grabbing his arm before he could throw a punch.

—Hey! Enough! This is supposed to be for charity, not a bloody boxing match.—

Rodrigo yanked his arm free but didn’t make another move. His glare could have set Lando on fire.

Lando, on the other hand, stood his ground, his expression cool and defiant.

—You can try to intimidate me all you want, Rodrigo, but it’s not going to change anything. She’s with me. And I’m not going anywhere.—

Rodrigo muttered something under his breath but didn’t reply. Instead, he turned and walked away, leaving Lando standing in the middle of the field, his heart pounding in his chest.

Lando took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. His mind was still racing with the adrenaline from the confrontation with Rodrigo. It wasn’t just the words that stung, it was the idea that someone—someone who had been with Amelie—thought they had the right to say anything about their relationship. About her. He hated that Rodrigo thought he could just walk back into her life, that he could tear her away from him after everything they had been through.

As the match resumed, Lando did his best to focus on the game, but his mind kept drifting back to the argument. Rodrigo’s words echoed in his head, fueling the fire in his gut. But he couldn’t let it distract him. Not when there was still a game to win.

After another thirty minutes, the match finally ended, with Lando’s team emerging victorious. It wasn’t just the win that made him feel good, though; it was the way he played. He could hold his head high, knowing he’d shown his skill and focus, no matter how much Rodrigo had tried to get in his head.

But when the match ended, Lando’s focus shifted back to the tension that still lingered in the air. Rodrigo hadn’t made another move after their confrontation, but Lando could feel his eyes on him from across the field. The tension was palpable, and Lando wasn’t sure what was worse: the thought of having to keep his cool around Rodrigo or the fact that he still felt like he hadn’t finished what they’d started.

As the event came to a close, the heat of the day still lingering in the air, Lando tried to shake off the lingering tension that had consumed his thoughts ever since the confrontation with Rodrigo. He couldn’t help but feel the weight of the argument gnawing at him, even though they’d managed to keep it from escalating any further. The idea that someone like Rodrigo could just show up and start throwing accusations about his relationship with Amelie was maddening. The nerve of him.

He was walking towards the locker room when he saw Rodrigo again, standing alone by the sidelines, glaring in his direction. The dark-haired footballer’s expression was a mix of frustration and barely contained fury, still seething from the exchange earlier. His jaw clenched with every glance he stole towards Lando, but this time, Lando didn’t flinch. He was tired of this game, of playing nice. If Rodrigo wanted to keep throwing punches—whether physical or verbal—he was more than ready.

Taking a deep breath, Lando closed the distance, his steps purposeful.

—What’s your deal, Riquelme?— he called, his tone cool but with an edge of challenge.

Rodrigo's eyes snapped to Lando's, narrowing. His nostrils flared slightly, as though he was holding something back.

—You think you’re some sort of hero for her, don’t you?— Rodrigo shot back, his voice tight with bitterness. —Like you’re the one she’s always dreamed of. But you don’t deserve her. You don’t even get her, Lando. Not like I did.—

Lando rolled his eyes, suppressing a chuckle that would’ve only served to piss off Rodrigo even more.

—Deserve her? Really?— Lando asked, tilting his head slightly. —Funny. I’ve been here for her through the thick and thin, you know, all the ups and downs. And yet, I’m the one you think doesn’t deserve her?—

Rodrigo scoffed, taking a step closer, his chest puffing up. He looked Lando dead in the eye, his voice low and dangerous.

—She deserves someone who can actually be there for her. Someone who doesn’t treat her like a casual fling. You didn’t even have the decency to stick around when things got tough. You left her, Lando. You left her like everyone else. But I... I stayed. I cared.—

Lando felt the blood rush to his head at the mention of leaving Amelie. He could feel the familiar mix of rage and frustration, that same knot of guilt that had haunted him when he let things go sour between them years ago. He hated being reminded of that period, hated how things had ended before they’d had a chance to be what they were supposed to be. But he wasn’t going to let Rodrigo twist the narrative.

—And how did that turn out for you, huh?— Lando shot back, his voice low but biting. —Because last time I checked, you were the one who couldn’t make it work. You were the one who couldn’t handle the distance. And you think you get to tell me I don’t deserve her?—

Rodrigo opened his mouth to retort, but Lando didn’t give him the chance. He was done being diplomatic, done with the quiet simmering of resentment that had been building ever since Rodrigo’s presence had tainted the day.

Lando stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in on Rodrigo's. His breath was shallow, the heat of the argument settling in his chest. He didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be having this conversation, but he also wasn’t going to back down. Not now.

—Look, mate,— Lando began, his voice cutting through the tension. —I’m not perfect. I’ve made my mistakes. I’ve fucked up, but I’ve also been the one to put in the effort. I’ve been there for her in ways you wouldn’t even understand. And the way you’re talking, like you’ve got some ownership over her? That’s not how this works. You don’t get to come in here and rewrite history just because you think you’ve got some claim to her, especially when it’s obvious you’re still bitter about how things ended. You don’t get to talk to me about what Amelie deserves.—

Rodrigo’s nostrils flared, his face turning a shade darker. He opened his mouth to respond, but Lando cut him off, his voice raising slightly.

—And don’t think I don’t know why you’re so pissed. You can’t handle the fact that she’s moved on. You think you’re the only one who could give her what she wanted. But newsflash: you couldn’t. And I’m sorry, but that’s just the truth.—

Rodrigo sneered, stepping closer now, his gaze locked on Lando’s. His voice dropped to a harsh whisper, as if he was trying to contain the storm building inside him.

—And you think she’ll stay with you forever? What happens when it gets tough? When her career takes her away again? Will you still be there, or will you run off like last time?— His words were a challenge, as if testing Lando’s commitment.

Lando didn’t flinch. He stood his ground, his chest rising and falling with each breath, the tension in his body palpable.

—I’m not going anywhere, Rodrigo.— His voice was firm, unwavering. —I’ll be there. I’ll always be there, no matter what. And she knows that. You’re right about one thing, though. This isn’t easy. But we don’t run when it gets tough. That’s not what we do. That’s not who I am. And that’s certainly not who Amelie is.—

Rodrigo’s eyes flashed with anger at Lando’s unwavering confidence. He opened his mouth, but Lando didn’t give him the chance to speak.

—No, you don’t get to finish that sentence, Rodrigo.— Lando’s words were sharp, cutting him off mid-sentence. —I’m done with this. I’m not here to relive your drama. I’m not going to sit here and let you talk shit about her or me. So you can take your bitterness somewhere else. I’m not interested in whatever you have to say anymore.—

For a split second, Rodrigo looked as if he was about to snap. His hand twitched toward Lando, but it was like something clicked inside him, and instead of swinging, he clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Lando turned on his heel, walking away without another word, his heart still racing, but now with the satisfaction of having finally stood up for Amelie. The tension still hung in the air like a storm waiting to break, but Lando refused to let it consume him. He had won this round—he’d made his point, and he wasn’t about to let Rodrigo or anyone else undermine his relationship with Amelie.

As he walked towards the locker room, his thoughts briefly turned to her. He couldn’t help but smile as he imagined her face—how she’d laugh at his fiery words and the way he’d stood his ground. She’d always had a way of grounding him, even when he felt his temper flaring. And despite everything that had happened today, despite Rodrigo’s unwelcome presence, Lando was more certain than ever about his place in her life.

[skibasyndrome]

Hii 💜 from the "short & impactful" prompt list, I'll ask for "Lie to me"

Lou!!!! Thank you so much for the ask! 💜💜💜 And because I know that this might be up your alley, how about a little angsty smut 👀 sorryyyy 🫣

Simon’s fingers are clawing into Wille’s back, so hard Wille knows he should tell him to stop, to find somewhere less visible to scratch, but frankly, he's beyond the point of caring. He can't help but gasp into Simon’s mouth when he feels the sting, but only doubles down, speeds up the movements of his hips.

Simon gasps back, beautifully, breathlessly, and Wille is in heaven. This is what he needs, this is what he wants, fuck, this is perfect. “Fuck,” he pants out, throwing his head back when Simon meets his thrusts just so. The words just stumble out of him, not an ounce of self-control left in him when Simon is so expertly making him lose his mind. “So good,” he babbles and lowers down onto his forearm so he can reach between them. Simon hisses when Wille wraps his fist around him again, but he’s still slick with lube from earlier. And so heavy and hot in Wille’s hand that Wille has to flex his entire fucking core so he doesn’t come on the spot. “Fuck,” he groans again, more emphatically, as he starts sliding his fist over Simon’s cock. And, because he doesn’t have anything to lose: “You feel so good.” “Wille!” Simon’s moan sounds aghast, hands roaming over Wille’s back like he’s scrambling for purchase. Oh fuck. Wille needs to play around with this next time, do more of this, he didn’t know Simon would want him to, would even like- Simon grabs Wille by the back of his neck and pulls him down sharply, crashes their mouth together in a searing kiss. It’s wet, it’s hot, it’s fucking filthy and Wille slows his movements, feels like they need to take this in fully, as is. He knows his kisses are unnecessarily possessive, a little too apt on licking into Simon’s mouth to make sure he’s got a mouth full of him and only him. No, of them, fuck, he’s kissing Simon’s taste back into him, he realizes, and lets out a long groan at the thought. Simon keeps him there, though, his long fingers strong at the base of his skull. His heels digging into Wille’s ass like he’s got any reason to be scared Wille will pull out. When they break apart, gasping for air, Simon barely looses his grip. Instead, he holds Wille’s head there, keeps him close, and moves to whisper in his ear. “Keep talking,” he pushes out, his teeth scraping over Wille’s earlobe in a movement that sends a shiver down his spine. Wille is about to nod, about to tell Simon that if he doesn’t stop clenching like that Wille is going to be done here way too fucking soon, but Simon goes on. “Tell me you want me,” his voice sounds different now, somehow- “only me, please” Wille immediately sobers up when Simon’s voice cracks mid-plea. He thought they were good, he thought Simon was also enjoying this, he thought… Wille gets his hand off Simon’s cock and tries to prop himself up again, to get a look at Simon’s face, but to no avail. Simon is holding him there, still, letting his hot breath ghost over the side of Wille’s neck. “I need-”  Instead of saying anything. just say so like Wille’s traitorous mouth is trying to, he holds his breath. Simon’s lips are hot and wet and uncoordinated as he presses kisses along the line of Wille’s neck.

“Need you to lie to me, Wille,” he breathes, and Wille’s heart stops. This isn’t- how can Simon think that he’d ever- “I just need to hear it, Wille.” After a gruesome moment of complete silence, Simon lets out a breathy chuckle and feels entirely humorless. Wille feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. When he tries to pull back this time, Simon lets him. He lets out another small laugh and drapes one arm across his face, making it impossible for Wille to look at him properly. All the heat is gone at once. Wille just feels cold. He wants to go back to just before. “Sorry,” Simon mumbles, sounding different now. Almost reserved. “Sorry, I just-” Another laugh, that, somehow, cuts Wille to the core. “Orgasm brain,” Simon offers as an explanation, pulling his arm off his face with a shrug. Right. Right. Cause this is what this is. Getting off. Wille nods slowly, unsure if this is his cue to laugh along or get back into it. He feels more like running away and hiding. “Okay,” he says meekly and wipes his hand on his bedspread. “Are you sure that-” Simon puts a hand on Wille’s chest, shoves him back a little. He’s gentle, but it’s still clear enough of a sign. Wille gets off of him. “I should get going,” Simon tells him curtly. And it only registers while Simon is already putting his shirt on again. Wille pushes through the lead that is weighing down his body, tries to get up and go after him. “Simon, I-” “Just don’t mention it, okay?” Simon turns, flashing Wille a smile that he must know Wille doesn’t buy. “Sorry for ruining the mood,” he continues, trying to sound lighthearted, and Wille can’t stop him from buttoning up his pants and reaching for the backpack he threw into the corner of Wille’s room earlier. “I’ll see you in class,” he shouts over his shoulder. Before Wille has the chance to ask him to stay, the door slams closed.

Send me one of these prompts for a short lil story 💜

[chevelleneech]

The post I just reblogged reminded me of how much Jimin and Jungkook have a brat/brat-entertainer dynamic, and kind of always has, with JK being the brat and Jimin loving every bit of it.

And it led to another thought of mine, where I constantly say I think a large portion of Jikook fans have a very narrow view of their bond. Because JK is taller, stronger, and darker in his aesthetic, he is constantly framed as this protector of Jimin’s. Which is fine to an extent, because we have seen that dynamic between them. We know Jimin likes feeling protected by Jungkook, and we’ve seen JK take the lead between them and guide Jimin through a crowd or whatever. It is clear that is part of what endears them to one another.

However… what that gifset and what Are You Sure? in general reminded me of it maybe even made me realize in a way, is that I don’t think a lot of Jikookers see just how wanting Jungkook is of Jimin in a comforting role. I’ve for sure seen it discussed that Jimin is JK’s person and safe space to land when he’s feeling overwhelmed, but, and I’ve mentioned this before, it seems as if Jungkook enjoys being “something” Jimin can sink his claws into, so to speak.

Jungkook is so bratty toward Jimin it’s not even funny. He argues for the hell of it, he taunts and teases, he pokes and pushes his buttons, only to then cackle and be the happiest he’s ever been when Jimin snaps at him. He loves getting Jimin to bite back. He also loves being in Jimin’s space as we’ve seen in hours worth of footage, but there’s also the questionable pattern of him being “tagged” as Jimin’s. The not-his-initials-initials tattoo, the not-a-hickey-hickey, his name written in sunscreen on his body… I mean… I won’t say it means something, but again, it’s a pattern.

Point is, Jungkook is so much more the softer half of their dynamic than so many people seem to accept. Jimin is of course as soft and gentle and has his moments of wanting to be wrapped up in JK, but it’s not the same, I don’t think. Jimin tends to want affection and attention at certain times, whereas Jungkook seems to simply be that way. Maybe it’s because he’s the maknae? I don’t know, but he the end result is never the same with the other members.

He can bratty toward Yoongi, but Yoongi doesn’t bite back the way Jimin does. He lets JK do whatever he wants, and sort of just coos at him and they go one about their day. JK is can also be very cuddly with Hobi, but is never questionably touchy. He also bickers with Jin, but they have more of a physical banter. They play fight all the time, which isn’t really part of his bantering with Jimin.

So I honestly think it’s just that Jungkook loves being the center of Jimin’s attention. He will always care for and protect Jimin when he needs it, but outside of taking up that position when the time calls, it really seems as if their dynamic is rooted in Jungkook being the center of their relationship. Not in a bad way, but I feel like it’s more common to see people say Jimin is the doted on one based on the “Jungkook is the protecter” angle, but when you look at everything altogether, it really seems to be the other way around.

[sxdisteez]

☆ — Please Sir. | 박성화

✦ summary: mafia! boss seonghwa indulges in the latest obsession he’s been wanting to taste and play with for awhile now. ✦ pairing: mafia! seonghwa x sex! worker fem! reader ✦ genre: mafia au, smut (mdni!) ✦word count: 2.6k ✦ warning - smut!, dom!seonghwa, switch!fem reader, sex! worker (insinuated), reader takes on sub role, oral (f and m receive), unprotected sex (do not follow be safe!), creampie (👎🏾), tears (reader), vaginal fingering, orgasm! denial, choking, rope play, sex toys, degradation(reader called whore/slut), praise, nicknames (slut, baby, sir), rough sex, big dick! seonghwa, impact! play (mild), a lot of cussing, bdsm! (slight) ✦ a/n: this is my very first story I've written on here. It's a story I had previously but tweaked it a lot and feel very satisfied with the results. I hope you enjoy!

this is a work of fiction and is not meant to be a realistic representation of any of the real people mentioned!

nsfw content below. 18+ - mdni

Whips.

Chains.

Gags.

Sex.

When the freaks came out at night that’s when I got up to play. My job is to please people and their sexual desires, whether they're experienced or not and I actually enjoy it. You might think I'm crazy but it gives me immense pleasure knowing my body can make someone cum for me. I have all of the control even when I submit to them.

Club Riot may not be the best in town but Allen, my boss, sure knows how to pick the best girl. In my case, I am the most requested person here. "Y/n we have a high class client coming in tonight and he's requested you." Allen says after coming into my dressing room. Normally hearing this wouldn’t pique my interest because many people request me here but, hearing the emphasis on “high class” let me know he’s bringing big money. "Okay, do you know what time so I can prepare myself?," I ask. "You know these rich people never disclose much around here but, I'll assume around 11 to be safe." He says, huffing slightly. I looked at the clock and saw that it was only 9:30 ‘Perfect! Enough time.’ I thought to myself. "Okay I won't disappoint!" I smiled at him. "You never do lovebug," he says winking before walking out. 

As I began picking out my outfit I couldn’t help but be deep in thought wondering who this mystery client was. It’s rare to get high class people at our establishment since there were better clubs operating. Shaking the thoughts off I opted for my new glittery black laced lingerie set that showed off my best features. I did my hair and make up in record time leaving me with 5 minutes to spare before this new client came. Putting on the robe that went with my set I walked towards the designated VVIP room feeling the nerves pool in my stomach, ‘here goes nothing I thought’ as I entered the room.

At 11:05, the special client arrives. I had been nervously anticipating what was to come with this mystery guest. Not even a minute later an intense aura takes over the room causing shivers to run down my spine.

The presence comes up behind me, placing their hands delicately on my shoulders. I turned slightly to see the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. His lips full and suckable, dark brown eyes that glistened even in the dimmed room, and long black hair that framed his face perfectly. "Hello there, I'm Seonghwa." He says smiling. I couldn't help the low moan that escaped passed my lips as I looked at him. I could tell he was a man with power, just by his appearance.

He smirked before gesturing for me to turn around fully. I comply still in a trance at how beautiful he was. Seonghwa studies my face before his eyes roam down to my covered body. “Take that off.” He commands, looking deeply into my eyes. I stand slowly, already feeling a slight tremble in my legs and let my robe drop to the floor. “Come here.” He says pointing a few inches in front of him. I muster as much courage as I can making my way in front of him, the smell of vanilla with a hint of coffee filling my nose when I enter his space. 

Seonghwa began circling around me, taking in every inch of my body. I felt as if I was on fire with how intense his gaze was, I could already feel my slick oozing out of my pussy. “Since I introduced myself it’s your turn now, miss…” 

“Y/n.” I say a little too quiet for my liking. 

Stopping in front of me he smiles a now wicked smile, “I have a few rules for our session today y/n.” “One you will call me sir, two I will call you whatever I want, and three the most important rule, you must ask for permission to cum. Am I clear?” He states his dark orbs watching my every move. Words stuck in my throat I could only nod. 

"My little slut lost for words huh?" He taunts, smirking down at me. Shocked at his tone I snapped out of my trance finally taking in what I could see of his figure, I just knew his dick was big. 'Fuck,' I thought my pussy throbbing even more with need. "I- no." I say, trying to remember that I was in control. “No what?," He questions with narrowed eyes. “No sir.” I correct myself quickly, ‘maybe I’m not in control after all’ I thought.

Seonghwa walks away to a black bag on the floor I hadn’t even noticed before. "Take off your clothes," he demands while searching through the bag. I hurriedly discard my clothes, leaving me bare and vulnerable. He looks up at me with lust filled eyes. "Oh baby you're so beautiful," He says walking towards me, red restraints in hand. "Now get on the bed and spread 'em," he commands. I lay down, arms and legs spread wide, as if it were routine for me. "Seems like the little slut is desperate for my touch," Seonghwa smirks. I let out a whimper watching him gaze at my body hungrily. "I've heard so much about you and how much of a little whore you are, I hope to see it soon," Seonghwa hums.

 He carefully tied the restraints on my wrists and ankles, making sure they were secured but loose enough for my comfort. It was something about his aura that made me want to get on my knee and beg him to just fuck me until I passed out.

Stepping back he goes over to his bag discarding his suit jacket unbuttoning a few buttons on his shirt. He reaches in the bag retrieving what seems to be a butt plug with lube. My eyes widened cautiously, leading him to chuckle. “Don’t worry baby, I won’t hurt you unless you ask.” Walking over Seonghwa kneeled between my spread legs taking in my state. I was soaked and desperately in need of his touch. I’ve never felt this sexually frustrated in my life. 

Seonghwa hungrily eyes y/n body holding himself from ravaging her at once. He’d had his eyes on her for a while now but with his line of work the streets kept him busy…until now.

 I make my way up towards her face taking in her beauty. At once I roughly press my lips against hers, loving the little moan she lets out from the contact. Hungrily kissing her, my hands roam down until I feel her breast. Giving them a slight squeeze, rolling her peaked nubs between my fingers. I’m immediately met with a loud moan making me smirk. Pulling away I inch down taking one nipple into my mouth, still playing with the other loving the sounds y/n made. 

“S-sir please,” she whined squirming under me.

 “Please what?” I questioned smugly, knowing exactly what she wanted. "Please fuck me sir," she begs causing me to laugh. “How pathetic! You’re already begging and we’re just getting started.”

 Kissing down her body I make my way to her soaked core loving how wet she already was for me. Without hesitation I flattened my tongue over her, moaning from how sweet she tasted ’fuck I could eat her out all day’ I thought.

The minute his tongue touched my folds I saw stars. “Oh my-“ the words caught in my throat as his tongue slipped in and out of my hole at an excruciatingly slow pace. I bucked at the sensation causing him to tighten his grip on my hips. I felt like I was lost in a trance with how his tongue worked magically on my pussy. Alternating from my clit to my hole, slurping up my juices without coming up for air. I could tell he was enjoying it just as much as I was. 

Feeling the heat rise in my belly I attempted to grind on his face but was met with a harsh slap to my thigh causing me to hiss. “I didn’t say you could move,” he mumbles looking up at me with narrowed eyes. “I’m close” I moan out feeling frustrated with his sudden change of pace. The frustration quickly subsided, feeling his fingers rub at my entrance. I look down watching him stare straight into my eyes, easing two fingers deep inside of me with an evil smirk, “remember the rules”. My jaw drops at the fullness followed by the rapid pace of his fingers curling to hit my spot. “Fuckkk!” I moan feeling my legs begin to tremble as the coils tighten more in my stomach. “I-I’m so close, fuck please sir c-can I cum?” I yell out close to my peak. With that he stops altogether leaving me empty. I whine as tears stream down my face out of frustration, my orgasm slowly fading. “Aww don’t cry you’ll have plenty of chances to cum baby,” he smiles picking up the toy he’d retrieved earlier.

Placing a ton of lube on the toy he reminds me to relax before slowly pushing the toy to my entrance. It goes in with ease giving me a slight feeling of fullness. I watch as he gets off the bed ridding himself of his clothes. With just the mere sight of him naked my orgasm was at its peak again. Seonghwa’s toned abs and muscles flexed as he took his shirt off, long legs and as I guessed a nice dick that was long with enough girth to accompany his god-like body. I was tempted to beg him to release me but he was already one step ahead. Walking up he strokes my head gently before removing the restraints.

"Get on your knees now!" he demands. I scurry on to the floor in front of him. "Suck." pulling me roughly by the hair. I immediately take his length in my mouth moaning at the sweet taste similar to honey. "Take it all in." he grunts, forcing my head down causing me to gag. "Good girl." he praises me, “I love to see you take me all the way down like a good little slut.” From Seonghwa’s words I was determined to give the best head of my life.

Peering down at her figure I groan as I watch her once again take a majority of my cock in her mouth, working the rest with her hands. I restrained myself from fucking into her mouth not wanting to cum too quickly. I allowed y/n to take control this one time just to see how far she’d go. She began teasing my cock head, swirling her tongue around it then sucking it, taking it out of her mouth with a loud pop while looking me straight in the eyes. I moaned smirking at her attitude knowing this was my pay back for teasing her. 

I played with his cock head loving each and every moan that escaped his mouth. I could tell he was holding himself back from something. “Alright that's enough,” he pulled me up, kissing me sloppily. I could still taste myself on his tongue, both groaning into each other's mouth as we mixed saliva. Breaking up the kiss he bends me over slightly in front of the full mirror, playing at my entrance with his cock before slowly sliding in. We moan in unison at the shared sensation. 

Seonghwa slowly began to thrust inside of me, gripping my hips tightly. “Fuck you’re so fucking tight,” he moans out increasing his speed. I couldn’t help the lewd noises that escaped my mouth with each stroke, I’ve never been fucked this good ever. Lost in my thoughts I suddenly feel a harsh smack on my ass followed by another on the other side. My head snaps up hissing from the pain only to see him staring deeply in my soul with a look I can’t pinpoint. “Look at me while I fuck you,” he growls out hip moving even faster. “Each time you look away there will be another smack. Do you understand?” I nod only to have my ass smacked again. “Use your words baby” he growls again. 

“Yes sir” I groaned out feeling turned on with how erotic this was.

I felt like a wild animal the minute I entered her pussy. Damn she was gonna ruin me before I even knew it. I could feel the other side of me slowly coming out the more I fucked her. From the noises she made, to the way her pussy tightened with each thrust, and how beautiful it looked watching us fuck in the mirror I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to look her in the eyes the entire time so this moment would forever be ingrained in her mind. She would be feigning for me and my cock 24/7. 

“Sir can I please cum?” she begged looking at me with pleading eyes. ‘God I wanna make her cry again’ I thought, loving the way she looked earlier. “When I say cum you better cum.” She nodded rapidly as her pussy clenched even tighter around me. After a few more deep strokes I began rubbing her clit.

 “Cum.” I commanded. 

Y/n spasmed on my cock, legs shaking as she let out the loudest scream since the session started. I'm sure everyone in the club could hear her. I continued, helping her ride out her orgasm until she was limp. “You’re such a good slut.”I praised picking her up. I wasn’t done just yet.

After cumming I could barely stand all of my limbs went numb from how much pleasure I felt. Seonghwa picked me up, laying me down in the middle of the bed. ‘This man is crazy’ I thought as I felt him place my legs on his shoulders before entering me. I weakly moaned, loving the fullness again. His hips snapped skillfully hitting my spot over and over again. The noises that filled the room were full of sin. “You hear how wet your pussy is baby?” He groaned looking down at me. “With each stroke your cum coats my cock beautifully.” At that I couldn’t help but pull him down to kiss him. I was drunk off lust and pleasure. Our tongues wrestled for dominance. I won in the end putting all of my feelings into the kiss. He continued to pound into me groaning into my mouth with each thrust. I felt him twitch inside of me as we pulled away from the kiss. “Rub your clit” he commands, repositioning my legs leaving me open and exposed. I matched my movement with the speed of his strokes. “Fuuuck!” He moaned out, feeling me squeeze as my second orgasm approached. “I’m so close.” I groan feeling overwhelmed with pleasure. Seonghwa continued pounding into me, his strokes getting sloppy and erratic. “Sir can I come pleaseee sir.” I cry out feeling the familiar heat rise in my stomach. “Cum baby.” He commands after a few strokes and we release at the same time. I moan loudly, legs trembling, eyes rolling to the back of my head as I feel his cum fill me up completely.

“Baby you did such a good job for me,” Seonghwa praises pulling out of me. He leaned over peppering kisses all over my face before kissing me deeply on my lips. I lazily kissed back feeling exhausted. I could barely keep my eyes open knowing it was time for me to go home for the day. “This won’t be the last time you see me y/n.” Was the last thing I heard him say before sleep took over. When I woke up an hour later I was cleaned up with a blanket covering me. Next to me was a little note that said, “The moment I’ve dreamed of.” and nothing else.

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[finnbbl]

Game of Love - Hwang Hyunjin SMAU

Chapter 19

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Warnings: Swearing, panic attacks, dr$g use/addiction mention, let me know if I missed anything

A/N: Not fully proofread, it’s late… Enjoy

The moment the uber pulled up to the cafe, you saw Jeongin outside. Pulling your attention to him as the car came to a stop. You quickly thanked the driver, tipping him and gathering your stuff to step outside. Briefly, you examined the male. He was dressed in a neat coat and scarf, hands dug into his jacket pockets. His pants consisted of shin length shorts, and some crew socks tucked into a pair of his questionable shoes. Still, a lot more put together than you though. You’d thrown on a pair of jeans and a thick jacket over a shirt. You didn’t look homeless, but still a lot less put together than Jeongin was. You waved to him to which he returned the favor, the both of you hurrying inside. 

The cafe was rather empty, as it was around 5 pm. Your eyes scanned the room for a moment, your friend Jeongin standing next to you also doing the same. It took a moment to find Hongjoong and Seonghwa, as they had chosen a booth that was tucked in the back of the cafe. You only spotted them because the top of their heads were just visible from over the booth. During the process, you’d also somehow managed to see Hyunjin and Felix. They seemed to be the only two working, which made sense. Given this would be considered closing shift, there was no need for more than 2 or 3 workers. It was a cafe that didn’t get many customers in the afternoon. Luckily, Hyunjin hadn’t seen you. While his apology was appreciated, you were still very wary and weren’t planning to let your guard down anytime soon.

“Over there,” You quietly spoke as gestured across the room, pointing. The two of you made your way over, finding a seat next to your friends. “Hi Y/N, hi Jeongin.” Hongjoong said as the two of you placed your stuff down. A small, but obviously forced smile displayed on your face. Realistically, you didn’t have the energy to put on a genuine smile today. Hongjoong couldn’t help but notice, causing him to frown at the sight. He’d also noticed you’d not been your normal self for the past week. Yet, he knew almost nothing about what was going on in your life. However, he left it be knowing that it probably wasn’t the best time to bring it up. “Do you want anything? It’s on me today.” Seonghwa started as you took off your jacket, draping it over the back of the booth. You unpacked a few things from your school bag as you contemplated. Seonghwa set his pen down, as if he was preparing to get up. “Oh, I don’t know if I should.. I don’t wanna be jittery.” Your anxiety was already through the roof, caffeine wouldn’t help.

“Gotcha, let me know if you change your mind.” Hwa shot you a smile as he picked up his pen again. Silence filled the atmosphere as everyone worked. The only sounds being heard were the chatters of the few other customers that were here, and the music that was softly playing from the store radio. Conversation would spark up between the other three, and Jeongin was being especially less sarcastic and mean than usual. Occasionally, they’d get you to join in. But for the most part, you stayed silent. Your head was jumbled and you were already too overwhelmed. It was hard to focus on anything, and it wasn’t until you realized you’d been stuck on one singular math question for 15 minutes that you dropped your pencil and ran your fingers through your hair. Stress seemed to cloud your vision and ou could feel tears approaching along with the sudden urge to cry. You could also feel your heart rate begin to pick up. It wasn’t hard for you to realize what was happening, having experienced this plenty times before. You quickly jolted out of your seat. This caught everyone by surprise as you mumbled a soft “Excuse me,” before turning on your heel to the bathroom. How you hoped to god it was vacant.

Your feet quickly found their way down the hall, and lucky enough for you, the handle turned with ease. The door could be heard shutting down the hall, giving away how intense your emotions were to others. You were even sure that Felix or Hyunjin could’ve heard it. The click of the lock was a lot more silent. You then couldn’t help but let your body slump down against the door, not finding the will to care how dirty the floor was. Your breathing picked up in speed, feeling your chest rising and falling a lot more quickly and intensely than normal. The events over the past week had all flooded your head at once. Between the fight with Han, Seungmin acting weird and distant, then your mom’s drug addiction picking back up, it was too much for you to handle. Plus, classes were starting back. All the emotions you’d bottled up for days finally poured out. At least you were able to make it to a private area first, that’s a lot more than some can say. You tucked your head into your knees muffling your whimpers as your arms wrapped around your legs. Although it was private, it wasn’t exactly sound proof so you made a note to try and keep your cries as silent as possible. After 10 or so minutes, you found the energy to stand up in front of the mirror. You looked back at yourself, wondering when and how it all went wrong. Things were going well, but then suddenly they weren’t. You felt so alone, what happened?

You wiped the tears off of your face, sniffling and doing your best to avoid rubbing your eyes and ruining your makeup more than it already was. No matter how hard you tried to pull yourself together, you couldn’t. All you could think were you saw your reflection was…

“Pathetic.”

Meanwhile, out in the lobby, was the three of your friends. They sat for the first few moments speechless, unsure of what just happened. They’d never seen you like this before, so how could they know what to do? And across the store from them, was none other than Felix and Hyunjin. One of which, had watched the whole thing go down. For some odd reason, that he couldn’t figure out, he found himself caring ever so slightly. He shouldn’t, right? You tore his heart out so carelessly in highschool. Why the hell should he care? You were dating his childhood friend. So why the fuck did he feel like this? These thoughts raced through his mind, not noticing that he gripped the broom in his hand tighter.

The other blonde male a few feet from him, noticed his complex expression. It was odd, especially when Felix was so blissfully unaware of what had just gone down with you. “You okay?” The words spoken from the male next to him snapped him out of it. His grip on the broom returned to normal. “Yeah, just…” Hyunjin trailed off again. He couldn’t help but wonder that he might’ve been at least part of the cause of your current episode he knew you were having. There was no telling what you were going through, and he was almost positive his apology didn’t help. Sure it was well intended, but it was unexpected. For all he knows, you think he’s playing some sick joke which would only add to your stress. He bit his lip as an idea sparked up in his mind, except he immediately fought himself against it.

“No, that’s a terrible idea. You hate her, she’s a piece of shit so why should you..” His mind was conflicted, he didn’t know what to do. As much as he tried to convince himself to fight against it, in the end he let his body act before fully thinking.

“I’m really worried about Y/N..” Hongjoong stated, twirling his pencil in his fingers. Jeongin who had previously sat next to you, glanced back towards the hallway behind him. A rather concerned facial expression crossed his face as well. Sure he could be mean and sarcastic, but it was a dynamic that everyone had with him. They all knew he wasn’t serious about anything he said, he truly did care. He was also more than aware of when it was time to be serious and when it wasn’t. Jeongin sighed and pursed his lips before turning back around. Hongjoong slumped against the back of the booth. There was no way any of them could concentrate on schoolwork after this. “Uhm, should I go check on her-“

Before Seonghwa could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by footsteps. All eyes were on Hyunjin who had just walked up to the table, and not empty handed. “Hey.. just leaving this for Y/N.” Awkwardly, he set a drink down with a note underneath. Silence followed. Jeongin narrowed his eyes in confusion at his friend, while Hongjoong and Seonghwa exchanged looks. Since when was Hyunjin nice? It was more than awkward, Hyunjin didn’t wanna walk away without a response. “You didn’t poison that, right?” Jeongin spoke up in a joking manner. A thick laugh sounding from his mouth to which Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “No, dipshit it’s not poisoned. I’d lose my job.” He retaliated as he began to retie his apron, which had started to come undone. “Alright uh, thanks I’ll let her know..”

Hyunjin nodded gently as his lips curved upwards. Not into a smile but more of an acknowledgment before turning to make his way back behind the counter. Felix watched the whole thing in confusion. From Hyunjin dropping the broom and making a random drink, despite there being no orders, to carrying it out there where Y/N had previously been sitting. “What the hell was that-“

“Don’t worry about it.” Hyunjin shut down his friend’s question, not up for being questioned or teased by him. Shit, he himself wasn’t even completely sure why he did that. It was on impulse, maybe even instinct. God how he wish he didn’t just embarrass himself.

It wasn’t too much longer before you came out of the bathroom, somehow managing to make yourself look more presentable than before you got there. “Hey guys, sorry about that I..” You stopped in your tracks, confusion lacing your face as you spotted a drink you most certainly did not order. “Am I going crazy? Did I order something?” You sat down slowly, and it was only then when you realized there was a piece of paper underneath. Upon further examination you saw that it was a note. It was face down, but the black ink on the other side showed through. Still unreadable from the back side, probably to keep wandering eyes from digging their nose in business that wasn’t theirs. “Oh, Hyunjin left it.” Jeongin gestured lowly over to behind the counter. You glanced over to meet his eyes briefly before turning back to avoid any awkward interaction.

First thing you did was slip the note in your pocket. Jeongin especially was nosy, and given he was right next to you there was no way it would be kept private. Glancing down at the drink, and despite you saying you didn’t want to be jittery, you were honestly thankful for it. Not only would this help keep the topic off of you and your sudden disappearance, but it was refreshing. The minute the liquid made its way down your throat, you felt relief. You made a mental point to read the note and thank Hyunjin later. Luckily for you, no one questioned your previous behavior. While it was obvious it lingered on their minds, you weren’t pressed about it. It wasn’t ideal to have a panic attack in the bathroom, but it definitely took some of the weight off your shoulders. Of course you were still stressed, but the emotions weren’t clouding your mind. The night soon came to a close, you’d chose to accept Hongjoong’s previous offer and catch a ride home with him. By the time you left, Hyunjin was out of sight. Most likely in the back doing whatever closing tasks there were. After contemplating, you’d decided to send a quick message to thank him once you got home.

Despite what your boyfriend Seungmin said, you knew you weren’t doing anything wrong. It was a simple thank you message, and there was nothing wrong with that. Besides, he didn’t have to know.. right?

Your body hit your bed the minute you got home. You were so exhausted, and slightly embarrassed with the way you fled off earlier. Groaning and rolling over, you threw your hands over your eyes before staring up at the ceiling. There were so many conflicts going on in your life right now, and you were unsure on how to solve any of them. Of course, you could always get advice or help from Hongjoong or anyone else, except they all had issue of their own. The last thing you wanted to do was burden them with yours. A sigh left your mouth as you suddenly remembered the green note Hyunjin had left you earlier. Without hesitation, you’d pulled it out of your pocket. It was slightly crumpled, but still readable.

“Hey, I hope this shows that I’m truly sincere on my apology. Sorry if I added anymore stress to your week. Here’s something without caffeine, hope it helps.”

You couldn’t help but feel a smile tug at your lips. He must’ve overheard your hint earlier to Hwa about not wanting caffeine. Maybe Hyunjin wasn’t as bad after all, and maybe you previously caught him at a stressful time. Sure, to anyone from the outside, this note lacks sincerity. Except you knew Hyunjin, better than a lot of people to be honest even despite not being in his life for four years. His writing style and tone remained the same, you knew how to read his emotions when others didn’t. You pulled out your phone, and for the first time in years you sent the first message.

“Thank you for the drink earlier, I really needed it.”

You were hoping after everything was sorted out, there wouldn’t be anymore drama. Between you or him or anyone else. Maybe this was a first step in the right direction. Except you’d soon find out…

this was only the beginning.

taglist: @rylea08 @estella-novella @gabriellamarie @elqivxstxr @4ln-stay8 @lostgirlinthewoodss @hwashua-luv @linavc @yaniluvs @ddroh @writtingrubberducky @vegetablesarefuntables @lixies-favorite-cookie @emilywjinnie @thecutiepieme @silly250 @energyjuice4life @solisyeah @renjunniex @njueskz @lilylovelle @cunninglibrarian @n1yasbae leefelixsslut

[caelivir]

congrats on 600!! best friend’s brother with karasu to memphis by justin bieber please ♡

now playing: memphis by justin bieber

ree your mind is amazing i was giggling the whole time i was writing this. i hope you enjoy this <33

content. karasu x fem!reader, mention of weed and mentions of/implied drinking (karasu and reader are drinking age in this), making out | wc. 1.3k (i tend to get carried away)

it happened by the chance of the heavens placed into a bottle. you should've thanked whoever was up there for ensuring that your best friend was nowhere to be found when this occurred. she would've killed the both of you if she saw.

that night your friend group had joined together with karasu's during a party for a classic, teenage game of spin the bottle. you had tried backing out, terrified of the possibility of it ever landing on karasu, yet your attempts to worm your way out of it were thwarted. when it was finally your turn to spin, you held your breath. your hands were clenched into tight fists as it went around the circle. as it slowed, you felt your heart pound in your ears. it inched closer and closer to karasu, and you were begging the bottle to turn a little bit more to the right in order to pass him.

but it didn't. it stopped and pointed to him as clear as day. your eyes snapped up to him, complete mortification written all over your face. karasu on the other hand was amused, and it didn't help that cheers bloomed from the people surrounding you.

your mind was in such a frenzy that you didn't even remember crawling over to him. he laughed at how tense you were. he saw the panic behind your eyes.

"relax." karasu had whispered to you, and only you, before he pressed his lips to yours, hand sneaking upwards to cup your face.

it was baffling how easily you melted into its softness. as you moved your mouth against his, fireworks exploded in your stomach. for a brief moment, you were thankful that the group had decided that pecks weren't counted as a kiss. they wanted three seconds of action, and that's what you gave them.

the moment you crawled back into your spot on the floor, the rest of the game went by in a blur. you weren't fully present when you kissed other people. you don’t remember who they were. the only thought on your mind was that they didn't feel like him.

ever since that night, you've been fucked, ruined completely.

you swear you're going insane having karasu on your mind 24/7. you imagine what it’d be like to touch him, to graze your finger on the mole under his left eye. what would it be like to sit on his lap? to be held in his arms? to kiss him until you couldn’t breathe?

these thoughts make it impossible for you function when he’s near because it reminds you of your fantasies. you’ve dodged him in his own home. a gut feeling tells you he has something to say. you could feel his eyes on you at dinners, and his burning gaze forces you to stare at your plate.

it’s so pathetic how you badly you want him. you've never wanted anyone more in your life, but you can't do a single thing about it. he's your best friend's brother, and that is a relationship you know you can't have. it's a line you don't want to cross.

but fuck, karasu has been making it so difficult tonight.

you're both attending a party hosted by reo. you didn't want to attend in the first place, but your best friend ignored your protests. now you're stuck with the bass that's booming against your feet. there’s too many people and too many drinks littered around. and because your friend groups are too intertwined, karasu is too close for comfort.

his demeanor’s shifted. he’s messing with your head and he knows it. everytime your eyes meet, he’s throwing you a knowing smirk as he takes a sip of the drink in his red solo cup. you could feel him staring when you were forced to dance. any time he has to brush past you, his hand grazes your waist. he can feel you tense under his touch.

he’s suffocating you, and you need air.

“i’ll be right back.” you say into your best friend’s ear. she nods at you with a smile. you abandon your circle of friends, leaving your drink behind.

you maneuver your way through the countless people inside. you have no clue where you’re going. the flow of the crowd spits you out. you end up outside where the party is still in full swing.

reo’s backyard is packed with plenty of partygoers surrounded by the pool playing beer pong or taking body shots. you ignore them, navigating your way to find somewhere more secluded. the side of the mansion is surprisingly that. the air is fresher, lacking the odor of weed and don julio.

you lean against a wall, exhaling a pent up breath out of your mouth. you press your head against the wall, casting your gaze upward. the sight is disappointing. from what you can observe, there are only a handful dotted on the night sky.

"(y/n)." a voice, one that you know too well, calls out to you. the sound of it makes you jump in your spot.

what the hell is he doing here?

"did you follow me here?" you ask shocked. karasu continues his march towards you. you look around for an escape.

"oh yer not leavin' if that's what yer thinkin'." karasu scoffs as he stands before you, crossing his arms. even in the dark you can tell how buff they are. "try runnin' i dare ya."

"what do you want?" you hope he can't sense the nerve in your voice.

"what do i want?" he echoes, closing the distance between you two. you're already backed up against the wall. you gulp as he practically cages you in, one leg between your legs and one hand placed by your head. "ya know exactly what i want."

"i'm sorry?" you choke.

"yer not dumb i said what i said." karasu raises his free hand to trail down your jaw.

is it possible for your heart to be leaping for joy while simultaneously sinking to the core of the earth? it doesn't matter because that is exactly what it's doing right now.

"y'know, i haven't stopped thinkin' about ya since we kissed. deep down, i know yer aware of that." he continues confessing. karasu's fingers move to toy with your bottom lip.

"karasu-" you start.

"i could give ya everythin' if that's what ya want." karasu pulls his eyes up to meet yours. "but yer makin' it so difficult fer me. ya keep fuckin' dodgin' me."

"your sister-"

"forget about her." he snaps, making your mouth fall shut. "tell me if ya want this. do ya want us?"

you know you shouldn't, not without talking to your best friend first. but that logic blurs when karasu's hand is a damn blaze against your skin, and his lips are begging for your attention. your heart is threatening to rip out of your chest. it knows exactly what it wants like how a compass knows true north, and you can't deny it that.

"you." you choke out. "i want you, karasu. i need you."

you both move at the same time. your hands are bunching up his shirt, and he's pressing himself to your body.

and then your lips collide. god, it's even better than the last time. it's messy, desperate, and hot.

karasu doesn't know where to place his hands. for a moment, they're cupping your face. the next they're on the sides of your throat. he settles on your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze as his tongue swipes at your bottom lip. you let him in, accidentally whining when you do, which causes him to smile.

you release the grip you had on his shirt. you're sure it's wrinkled now. you'll apologize later, but you're sure karasu won't even care. you're hands trailing a path up to his neck. he's just beginning to slide his hands under your top when you're both screamed at by a voice that you know better than your own mother's.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TWO DOING?!"

oh shit.

want more? check out my aux event!

[elixirfromthestars]

Hey Mel, I've been thinking about dad Bucky! Which one of your Bucky's do you think would be a girl dad?

Hello my lovely anon, do you understand how much I adore you for sending this in?? 😭🩷🩷 I want to give you the biggest hug because this immediately sparked something for me!! Please enjoy my moodboard and thoughts for my detective Bucky being a girl dad 🥹💖 And if you'd like to know more please let me know!! I had so much fun answering this!! 🥰

Contents -> detective bucky + lawyer reader, baby girl w/nickname Teddy 🥹🩷, mentions of life/work as a homicide detective, all the feels okay? like all of them

Detective!Bucky Barnes as a Girl Dad 🧸ྀི‎♡‧₊˚

Okay, so first of all, our precious Teddy was planned 100%. You’re one of the top prosecutors in New York, of course, your life is structured the most it can be and you knew you wanted to start a family with Bucky when the timing was right. Teddy came along after you were married and had moved into an apartment together. By this point, Bucky had moved up the ranks and passed his sergeant’s exam, allowing him more free time to be around and present.

When Teddy was born, best believe Bucky cried—you both did. She was just so cute and so tiny. You both marveled at how the two of you made someone so wonderful and so perfect. She looks like a mini version of you but with Bucky’s eyes and smile.

He honestly couldn’t wait to show her off to everyone. His desk at work is now covered in pictures of you and his baby girl. His lock screen? It’s a picture of you holding Teddy. You know that little pocket in a wallet where an ID should go? Yeah well, he has a polaroid picture of the three of you instead. He has those pictures there to remind him to be extra safe on the job since he now has you two waiting for him to come home safe and sound.

Teddy got her nickname not too long after she was born. She was a bit of a fussy baby and liked to cling to you or Bucky when she slept. With your careers, it wasn’t always possible to have Teddy with either of you 24/7. And then one day the teddy bear Bucky won you at the fair from your first date ended up in her crib. Teddy ended up keeping it close and hugging it the entire time she slept. Even as she started getting older, that bear went wherever she did. From the moment she fell in love with that bear, you decided everything Teddy owned had to be bear-themed.

All your friends and family love Teddy. Sam and Nat bicker all the time over who Teddy loves the most—Uncle Sam or Auntie Nat. You’d never tell them, but Teddy adores her Uncle Stevie the most. Whenever he visits, she won’t leave his arms which makes Bucky a little grumpy (which you always tease him over).

Bucky has always been protective of you (maybe sometimes a little overprotective) and that doesn’t change when Teddy comes along. If anything, he becomes even more protective of his girls—this man is a devoted husband and father. Dotting on you and Teddy whenever he gets the chance. Acts of service is 100% one of Bucky’s love languages and he’d do anything for you and Teddy. 

When the topic of daycare comes up, Bucky doesn’t want to hear it. He just can’t imagine anyone taking care of his baby girl better than you and him. No one else would take the time to cut Teddy’s food into the cutest of shapes—her favorite being stars, no one else would pick her up and play airplane with her when she gets fussy, no one else would sing twinkle twinkle little star with her for the millionth time just to see her happy, and there’s so much more others wouldn’t do for her that you and Bucky would. 

Daycare lasted a couple of days—Bucky just couldn’t do it. He was losing his mind wondering how she was doing. On the first drop off that man was damn near begging on his knees for you to change your mind. You were firm on your stance (neither of you could afford cutting back even more on work hours since you were saving up for a home). So as much as you hated being the one to do it, you had to be the one to put your foot down on the subject. That was until on what would be her last day at daycare, Teddy cried out Mommy with the utmost heartbroken voice as you were walking away and your heart just shattered. Needless to say, the daycare phase didn’t last long and instead you took the longer commute to drop off Teddy at Grandma Barnes’ brownstone. Bucky’s mom was over the moon at this decision because that woman adores her grandbaby. She spoils her rotten which sometimes backfires in the silliest of ways.

Being one of the top prosecutors in New York means you have many late nights. Bucky is always there to be supportive in any way he can be. Before Teddy, you used to work on cases together at home, but ever since she was born he has enforced a no work-at-home policy. He doesn’t want his baby girl hearing or witnessing anything from the homicide cases you and he work on. He wants to protect her from that world for as long as he can. 

Especially since he has worked on some cases that show him the worst of humanity. Now that he is a dad they hit him a little deeper. Whenever he works a case where a parent has lost their child, his chest feels tight the entire day and there’s a heaviness on his shoulders he can’t shake off. On those days he insists you two visit Teddy during your lunch break. And that night he holds Teddy just a little longer and a little tighter in his arms—like he’ll lose her if he lets go. After she falls asleep in his arms, he tucks her in her crib and goes looking for you. No matter what you’re doing Bucky coaxes you to drop everything and come to bed with him where he holds you just as tightly as you lay together. He promises over and over again that he’ll keep you and Teddy safe, whispered promises of how much he loves you both and how no harm will ever come to either of you between passionate kisses that seal the meaning of those promises into your very soul.

Bucky adores being a dad just as much as he adores being your husband. His life feels complete having you two in it and he'd be damned if he ever let anything or anyone ever jeopardize it (which in this line of work there have been a few close calls on both your ends that have tried, but those stories are for another day).

I honestly could go on and on all day over this, but for the sake of not going on for too long, I will end my little happy ramblings here 🥹🩷 Thank you again for sending in this request, I had so much fun with it!! 🩷🩷

[yallthemwitches]

“Hi! I just wanted to say I’m absolutely in love with your stories—they’re amazing! If you ever feel inspired, I’d love to see a spicy James/Lily fic with some light bondage (doesn’t matter who ties up who). Just an idea from an obsessed fan!”

Love! ❤️

Thank you so so much! This is very sweet of you to say! As for the spicy fic suggestion:

Short Answer: Yes! I'd love to!

Long Answer: Here it is! (all 4k words of it...whew)

I'm going to add it to my smut prompt collection on AO3, Crash Into Me or you can read it under the cut!

Thanks for the idea! I love getting sent things people would like to read, it gets me out of my own head and forces me to write things I might have put off doing! It was super fun and I'm kinda shocked I haven't done something like this sooner.

Enjoy! (AO3 Link Here)

She’s infuriating him and she knows it. 

What's worse is that it’s exactly what she wants, hoping to break him down until he’s just a little puddle at her feet. All of their Heads’ duties together have started to devolve into this: a silly game they play to see how far they can make it before someone inevitably gets pushed up against a wall or led into an abandoned classroom. He doesn’t really know who wins, but it doesn’t matter. Both of them want the same thing. 

He should have expected it when McGonagall left them both alone in her office after their monthly check-in--as soon as the lock clicks on the door Lily is in action, moving from her seat to stand in front of him with a coy smile.

“Hey you.”

She doesn’t wait for a response, sliding so she faces him on his lap, her thighs pressing against his to dangle on the sides of the chair. 

“What are you up to?” He hums, arching an eyebrow. Even after months of having her this close, he is still amazed that he has the cognitive function to tease her. Her body against his does dangerous things to his mental capacity. 

“Oh, waiting for you to finish so we can patrol,” she murmurs. Her body language says she has absolutely no interest in heads’ work, arms curling around his neck to press soft fingers through his hair. His eyes flutter closed in response, trying to keep composure while his trousers already start to strain. 

It takes all his strength to call her bluff but he forces his eyes back to the schedule. She doubles her efforts, planting slow, languid kisses against his pressure point until she reaches the hollow of his throat and starts the path over again. It’s a clear sign: the game has started. You are my willing participant. 

“Evans–” He doesn’t know when his hand had stilled, but the schedule now bears a jagged black line where his writing had gone slack with distraction. “I can’t focus.”

“Then try to push me off.”

The request isn’t completely out of left field, but it still makes him want to laugh. The first time she had ever asked him to fight back against her, he had laughed, almost crazed when she pouted and writhed against him in persistence. “Why would I ever want to get away from you, Evans?” He had said, “ Most days, I’m fighting to be as close to you as humanly possible.”

They both know that it would take next to nothing for him to remove her from his lap, but that isn’t the point–it isn’t the game. What she is really asking for is the struggle, the power play that in earlier years came in the form of verbal dueling, but is now distilled into physical touch. 

He puts down the quill slowly, mulling over all possible scenarios this might go. They didn’t know how long McGonagall would be gone, nor did they have the time seeing as their patrol started in five minutes, but that was the big issue wasn’t it: he didn’t care--and apparently neither did she.

“You realize all I need to do is stand up and you lose, right?” He says, an arm wrapping around her waist under the guise of being ready to tug. Instead it pulls her closer. Her eyes blink up at him, decidedly wicked in nature. She lifts back up to place a soft, contemplative kiss on his lips. 

“You’re right—too easy,” she concedes, giving him a deeper kiss this time. “New objective then: If I make it to the door we have to do patrols, but if you can stop me in time…”

She doesn’t even need to say what the stakes are, the answer already hangs heavy like fog in the room. Then you can shag me, right here. Right in McGonnagall’s bloody office. 

Now that was a game he was dying to win. 

It makes him lose his head, eyes too busy scanning the room for all the many ways and places he can take her, that by the time she says ‘ go’ he is already frighteningly hard for her.  

She jumps off his lap, taking small, timid steps towards the back of the room, turning each time to shoot him a smile. He could get up and pull her back right now without even taking more than a large step but he knows that’s not what she wants. She wants him to actually play along, to make it interesting for her. 

So he waits, leaning back in his seat and ignoring the ache that comes from just the anticipation of the inevitable–because it was inevitable. He was going to have her whether he won or not. 

He watches her with a smug smile until she’s made it a couple of meters to the door before standing up, walking at a deliberately slow pace like an animal in hunt. His approach ignites something in her and a bubble of laughter escapes, a beautiful, frantic noise that holds as much joy in it as desire. Her energy surges and she catches speed, only needing to cross a meter to touch the wood of the door…

Her fingers barely reach out for the finish line when he wraps an arm around her waist and spins her against the wall directly beside the door. An impatience takes over and his mouth is on hers, tongue demanding entrance while his hands move rabid downwards to hitch under her skirt. 

Meanwhile, she continues to laugh, shrieking and pushing at him to move just centimeters to the right to where the grain of the door frame begins, but her squirming just makes it easier for him to part her legs and slot himself against her, pressing her firm against stone. 

“No fair!” She squeals between peals of laughter. She continues to giggle and wiggle against him until his hand finds the band of her knickers. Her attempts to push past him falter, moans taking over and filling the room with their deep, velvet sound. 

“C’mon Evans,” he breathes into her ear, “You’re so close. Try to win.” 

She gives a lackluster push to his chest and he catches both her hands in one of his own, lifting them above her head. His brain is swimming, all thought in a freefall with only one end in sight. 

“Baby—” Her eyes close, back arching so her bottom half presses closer into the stilled hand just above her pelvic bone. “ Please.”

“You have to say it, Evans,” he says. The grip on her hands tightens and she interlaces her fingers. “Tell me what you want, please. I need to hear it.”

“I want you to touch me.”

“How?”

It makes her writhe, her impatience starting to seep in. Her hips buck underneath him and it zaps pleasure straight into his erection, making it nearly unbearable to not just grind back into her. 

“With your fingers, tongue, cock. All of it. James— please.”

They are words that will haunt him forever. 

He gives her at least one of the things she asked for and drops his fingers between her legs, finding the fabric there sticky and thick. 

“Merlin, Lily. You’re soaked,” he gasps, fingers sliding under to drift through her folds. It makes him dizzy how easy he slips inside, hand practically dripping already just from contact. 

“Were you wet like this in our meeting?”

“Since before even,” she gasps, hips rolling into the palm of his hand. “But the way you looked just now, right before you got me against the wall. Jesus, Potter. You looked like you wanted to devour me.”

He slides another finger in and her head bends forward, leaning against his chest. Her breath is hot against his shirt and makes the white become transparent against his skin. 

“I want to devour you–,” he corrects, “--present tense.” 

She pulls back and her eyes burn at him, almost resembling the cross expression she would wear when they used to row. He twists his fingers and her eyes flutter, her bottom lip disappearing against white teeth. 

“Go on then, do it.”

He enters some sort of fugue state, pulling his soaked hand out of her and clawing at her skirt until it becomes a pool at their feet. His teeth find the knot in her tie and yank it loose, trailing her own wetness through her blouse to fiddle with the buttons. 

She follows suit, releasing her hands from above her head to untuck his shirt, breathing heavily against him when she cups him through his pants to unbutton his trousers. Her touch knocks him back into reality and his hips instinctually grind to get closer to her touch. 

“I want to lick you against this wall,” he tells her, voice low and rough. Underneath her palm his cock aches, clenching all the muscles in his body like it’s ready to go into shock unless he gets to her now. “I want to get you so close to coming with my mouth that you are dripping down your leg. I want to carry you back to Mcgonagall's desk and take you right on top of those bloody schedules. I want to watch your tits bounce from my cock pumping inside you. Fuck, I want— I need– to hear you scream my name.”

He drops to his knees in the pool of their collective clothing, placing a hand against the flat plane of her stomach until she is flush with the wall. Her hands grab for his hair, tugging him forwards while her body arches to meet him and he grabs hold of a thigh to drape over his shoulder, opening her up further. She’s so wet between her legs the fabric of her knickers are discolored. Her center is a deep pool of green surrounded by a sheen painted to her thighs. 

“I want that too. Do whatever you want. You won.”

It’s enough to make him short circuit.

He’s shocked at his restraint, mouth and cock literally watering at the view of her. But as much as he wants to bite her knickers away and press his tongue inside her, he wants to hear her say it more. 

“Tell me again.”

She lets out a frustrated gasp as he stalls, pulling his head back enough to make eye contact with her. Gazing down at him she looks utterly crazed, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.He wants to remember it forever.

When she doesn’t respond, he hooks a finger around the inside of her knickers, the contact with her center making her mewl with pleasure. He pulls back the fabric and his mouth drops open. It’s not the first time he has looked at her like this but to see her swollen and yearning and dripping like that? It’s the most beautiful sight in the world.

“Tell me.” He prods, holding her knickers against her thigh. 

“You git, you just want me to beg,” she says, her face contorting into a frown. 

It wasn’t what he was fishing for, but now it’s all he wanted. 

“Yes– oh fuck– yes.”

She tries again to arch her body towards his face, but the hand on her stomach keeps her against the wall, giving no other choice. 

“Touch me, Potter,” she cries, exasperated. He’s got her to the breaking point, that sweet spot where her desire and her anger are too overlapped to be distinguishable. At the beginning of their relationship it was the only sensation she had for him, unable to disconnect their years of annoyance with how much she wanted him. It only made him want her more. 

“Let me come on your tongue, then—christ— then hold me down and fuck me. Fuck me until I don’t even know where I am anymore. Fuck me until I can’t even think—”

“Shit, yes.”

He surges upwards and she lets out a gasp of satisfaction. Her body melts under his tongue, head falling back against the stone wall and fingers pressing him closer into her as he begins his ministrations. The sounds begin falling from her lips and he knows how to keep them coming, having spent one glorious afternoon months ago taking turns going down on the other, coaching on what pressure to give where and what spot makes them unravel almost immediately. 

His tongue paints against her, slipping easily through her folds and dipping inside until her hand shakes against his skull. The noises make way for words, an endless string of them that shoot from his eardrums right to the center of his cock, getting him so close without even being touched. 

“James, baby. I can’t stand how fit you look, how bloody good you make me feel,” she says, giving a shallow moan when he gasps right into her. “I have no idea what McGonagall was saying in that meeting–I couldn’t stop imagining you bending me over that desk. That’s all I can think about these days. In class, at meetings, touching myself at night. Just sitting in the same room as you makes me wet— fuck.”

Fuck is right. Her words make him press farther, edging on aggressive. To say he wanted to devour her was right too. He wants every last drop of her.

She’s close, her body giving the telltale quivers that mean she is just at the edge. He slows, giving long pressured strokes that have always made her unravel. 

“James—holy fuck —James.”

Her body shakes and under his mouth he can feel her contract. He continues his path, carrying her through it until the overstimulation makes her yank back at the roots of his hair. Spent, she slides against the wall to the ground, her legs jutted out in opposite directions and head tilted back. 

“Jesus Christ, Potter,” she pants, catching her breath. Her hair frames her face like a halo, eyes open. Some of the frenzy has lessened but the burning in her irises remains. Her tongue flicks out and licks at the bottom of her lip, unhinging part of his nervous system. 

“You are so lovely—so unbelievable,” he says, caressing her ankle which had shifted onto his lap. She closes her eyes at his touch, shaking her head against the wall for a moment before picking herself up and leaning inwards to fall cradled into his arms. 

“We still have patrols to do—” she whispers into his chest. A finger outlines the contours of his muscles, dragging down to his stomach. “--but I still want you…if you still want to—”

The finger descends, finding him still very much throbbing for her under his pants. They both moan at the contact, his arms encircling and finding her bum to press her fully onto his lap. 

“If I still want to what?” He whispers, pulling her legs to wrap around him. He’s already heard her say it once, but he wants the reminder, wants to hear it as many times as he can coax out of her until she makes him implode. 

“I want you to tie me up and fuck me on the desk.”

All of his cognitive function ceases to exist. 

“What?” His tone must have been of utter shock because she immediately flushes red, lowering her face away from him. 

“No, look at me Evans–Lily. Seriously. I just…I just need you to say it again to make sure I am absolutely certain I heard you correctly because, holy shit—”

A thousand images swirl into his mind. They had done some wild things in the past–certainly led a more exploratory sex life than most of the other couples around–but never before something so outright kinky as that. Sure, they loved a good semi-public touching or stray finger from behind when the moment struck, but this. This request opened a whole new door for them and she wanted it. 

Frankly, he could come right then and there, just by the thought of it. No further actions needed. 

She lets out a little squeak, hands balling at the base of his neck. He can feel her heart beating out of her ribcage against him and he places a soft kiss on her lips, encouraging her to continue. 

“I just…I liked it earlier when you held my hands above me on the wall.”

Yes, yes, yes. Oh Merlin, fuck yes. 

“Whatever you want, I’ll do it,” he says quickly, his enthusiasm taking control. “You need to lead the way though because– fuck— I want whatever you want so badly, but I also don’t want to go too far.”

She does something unexpected and laughs, her body shaking against his. “James I don’t think you’re capable of–”

“No, I mean it,” he says, voice cracking. “It’s one thing when we are just pushing each other and having a laugh—I know those limits. But something like–” he voice cuts off, brain flooding with all sorts of visuals of her held down, screaming his name, “--like that. I don’t trust myself. You need to walk me through it.”

She presses her lips to the hollow of his collar bone, hot breath billowing against him. His mind can’t stop racing, his heart like a canon shooting off endlessly in his ribcage. 

“Well, then. I guess for starters, you should get me on the table.”

He can feel her amused smile against him, but he doesn’t care. She can tease him for taking it seriously all she wants, but he wants this to be done right. 

Carrying her over to the table would have been a lot easier if it wasn’t for the way her entrance pressed right into him. The mixture of her wetness and his saliva seeping right into his pants and making his cock ache in agony. 

“I’m telling you now Evans. I’m going to last five seconds—real amateur hour. Just the thought of you tied up…I don’t know what it’s doing to my brain but I’m fucked. I’m going to be a fucking mess. ”

He lays her down on the table, pushing aside his quill but otherwise not caring about the parchments of scheduling lying under her. She stretches out like a cat, legs slightly bent but her hands going over her head, making her breasts jut out. 

Godric help me.  

He lowers himself over her, pressing his cock into her hip bone and waving forward to release some of the tension that has been building up. She gasps, her arms stretching higher until she intertwines her fingers again like she did on the wall. He kisses her, letting his tongue lap into her slowly so she can taste the lingering wetness of her climax coated to his lips. 

“Use a tie.”

 When she pants it into his mouth, his whole body reacts—a frantic jerk forward that creaks the wood of the table. 

“Fuck Evans— you are a dream come true. You are everything.” He pulls at the tie that flaps helpless around her neck alongside her opened blouse and it flutters in his hand. Surely this will ruin uniforms for him forever. He won’t be able look at a Hogwarts tie without thinking about her naked body flushed underneath him on the desk. He will have to start practicing his illusion charms, otherwise he’ll be cursed with an erection during school hours for the rest of his life. 

He looks at her for approval and she stares up at him with unbridled anticipation, irises glittering with excitement. Pulling the tie around her wrists, he makes a hesitant knot and attempts to tug her hands away from each other, testing to make sure it’s tight enough to hold but not digging in. 

“I know I’m absolutely inflating your ego, but it’s just unfair how fit you look without a shirt,” she says under him. “Like, Jesus. If this goes well I want to tie you up next and kiss every inch of you.” 

“Fuck, Promise?” He doesn’t realize he has said it out loud until her laugh echoes around the room. The shake of the table now doing dangerous things to his leaking cock. 

“One thing at a time, Potter,” she says, pulling up to give him a kiss. “I need you to fuck me now…and judging from the look of your pants, you really need that too.”

He doesn’t need to hear it twice. Pulling off the table, he shucks his pants off without looking, eyes unable to tear away from the absolute feast of the senses laying against the table with tits and hips arched upwards and ready.

With no hesitation, he crawls up on the table until he is level with her, his cock dragging slowly up her thigh. 

“Again, Lily. I’ll apologize now. You are just so so lovely. I can’t believe you even let me touch you much less tie you up and—”

“For chrissake James. Stop talking and shag me.”

It’s the best thing she’s ever said to him. 

His cock slides into her easily and her walls immediately contract around him. They both gasp in tandem, her body practically levitating off the table from how much she arches. The pebble of her tits brush against his chest and he dips down to take one in his mouth, not removing a hand from where her hands are bound above her head. 

It’s like going back in time. The slow gentle rock of his hips testing out the waters to make sure she is ok before going any deeper. He pulls back to watch his cock slip in and out, unable to keep his focus there or where her upper body writhes helpless, wanting to do its usual ministrations of carding through his hair or clawing at his back but unable to do so. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he pants as his thrusts speed up. The new movement rocks the desk and her tits bounce with it, beautiful and round and poised just for him. Her eyes don’t leave his, watching him with a glazed over expression as her mouth hangs wide, giving him instructions and praises in the same breath. 

“ Harder—faster—yes, like that. Christ, James. Thank you—fuck.”

He’s embarrassingly close already. Unbearably so. But what she demands he gives, speeding up his movements, snapping his hips harder until the table groans and starts to splinter. If they have to get McGonagall a new desk, it’s worth it. Everything is worth it to see her like this.

The pressure mounts and he can feel the end drawing near. When he says as much, her eyes open wide, frantic once again with an epiphany.

“Turn me over. Turn me over and fuck me off the side. Fuck, James. Please.”

He swears quietly, a low droning shit as he hooks an arm around her waist and flips her onto her stomach. It takes everything in him to pull out of her so they can resituate, but immediately it becomes worth his while. She slides herself almost off the edge, lifting herself onto her knees so her bum stands into the air while her chest and bound arms lay rested against the tabletop.

The sight alone is indescribable, immediately burned into his memory to be revisited later, but it’s her stare that really does him in. Turning her head against the surface of the table, she stares up at him, the green of her irises reduced to a smoldering emerald. It’s the look of absolute pleading— how could he possibly last from a look like that?

Shaking, he stands behind her, taking in the view down the slope of her back to where the tie keeps her bound. She watches him, tracking his stare with a smile tugging at her lips.

“Nice view?”

It’s a laughable question. “Evans, you have no fucking clue.”

He bends down and gives one solid lick from her bum to her clit and it rewards him with a sharp squeal.

“Holy fuck, no fair!”

Always still a game. A game he hopes they never stop playing.

When he finally pushes in, the angle makes all the difference, hitting deeper into her than he was capable of with her just laying on the table. Unlike before, he doesn’t give any sort of gentle preamble to his movements, thrusting quick and deep inside her like she asked for. The sound of his hips snapping reverberates around the room and the wetness between her legs drips out against her thighs, easily visible now as the backdrop to his cock working inside her.

The pressure that was mounting before accelerates quickly and he thanks Godric he can feel her close too.

“I’m so close, Lily—I want you to come–no– need you to come. I want to feel you squeeze my cock like this.” 

She looks like every fantasy he has ever had mixed into one image. Hair wild against her back, mouth open and panting, eyes— merlin her eyes— still watching him as he all but pounds into her. 

“Come for me then, baby. I’ll come too, I promise. I want to feel you come inside me. Fuck, James. Let me feel—”

Like always, her words are what throws him over the edge. He shudders into a release, keeling over her backside and panting a string of swears as he empties into her. Through his climax, he feels her walls tighten around him and she comes too, hard and swift, with her lips pressing his name into the grain of the table. 

When the fog finally lifts, he isn’t sure how long he remained inside her, but he pulls back, quickly scrambling for the tie. 

“Are you alright? Was that too–”

But the second she has control of her hands again, she turns and pulls him against her, hands roaming as though making up for lost time held away. She presses their lips together, hungry but in a different way from the carnal act they just did. Hungry to show adoration. 

“It was perfect. You are perfect,” she says into his mouth, hands finally carding through his hair. “You’re going to be the death of me really. I want to do everything with you.”

Everything? Everything sounds amazing. 

“Should we start now?” Love rushes over him like a warm breeze, wanting to just hold her and caress every part of her body until he is hard again to do exactly what ‘everything’ entails. She just laughs, pushing away from him and padding over to her wand to clean up the messes between their legs. 

“We can’t just hole up here and—”

“Of course we can,” he cuts her off with a grin, “Need I remind you, you made a lot of promises today that need to be fulfilled. Ones that I am ready to collect at your convenience.”

She laughs again, playfully throwing his clothes at his chest. He should be joking, but he has never been more serious in his life. McGonagall and Heads’ duties be damned. If it was up to him they would never leave this room. 

“We have patrols to finish—-ones we never even started,” she hums, tugging up her skirt. He pouts and she crosses over to kiss it away. She gives one, then another, then he’s dropped his clothes back on the floor to pull her in closer again.

“You’re impossible,” she pants, coming up for air. “We’ve been here too long. If McGonagall decides to come back, we are in serious shit.” But she doesn’t pull away, tongue already tracing against his lower lip.

“Stop, we need to get going…” 

Her hips jut forward and finding him already hardening again she smiles, pressing her lips to his jaw. Eventually she pushes away, but the look in her eyes still stands. A game already on the horizon. 

“I'll make it worth while--we'll keep your tie handy.”

[emsdevs]

Bear and Bug 3: The Distance

a/n: Here is the much-awaited pt 3!! We have a feature from Jack and a glimpse into his friendship with Bug!! Enjoy :)

It didn’t take Quinn long to get back in your good graces, and soon, it was like nothing had happened between you two at all, well, not exactly nothing. Calls between the two of you were significantly more lovey-dovey, and they always ended with a soft “I love you” from each of you, which would have never happened before. The biggest difference, though, was the intense longing you now had to see Quinn. He was right about you only spending time with Jack until it was basically too late, and now you feel like you wasted a lot of time that you could have spent with your new boyfriend. Quinn often assured you that it was okay. He’d promise that summer would come soon enough, and you could spend plenty of time together then. 

You couldn’t really believe him, though, because that directly conflicts with the most difficult part of your relationship. Neither of you have spoken a word about it to Quinn’s family, or yours for that matter, and Jack was at the top of the “not telling” list. You and Quinn had decided it was best to keep your romance to yourselves for the moment, not wanting to cause any drama if the distance didn’t work, so you’ve been biting your tongue on every phone call with Jack, trying to keep your mouth shut about it. If you were being honest, the guilt was starting to creep in. He was already having a really tough season, what would he think if he found out his best friend was dating his older brother behind his back? How much worse will it be if he finds out months from now? You weren’t really keen on keeping this secret from Jack in the first place. You two tell each other everything, so you knew he’d be hurt when he eventually found out. However, it was that fear of hurting him that kept you from letting him in. You didn’t want to add to the emotional turmoil he was already in. He had been calling you almost nightly at this point, crying and telling you that he wasn’t even sure he enjoyed hockey anymore. People had been calling him a bust all season, and it was getting to his head, making him wonder why New Jersey would draft him in the first place. After hearing how distraught he’s been all season, you knew you couldn’t add to that.

“I just don’t know what to do,” Jack sighed into the phone one night. “Am I even right for this team? Would I be right for any team?” his voice began to break.

“Jack, no,” you let out a breath, shocked that your confident, easy-going best friend was feeling down enough to doubt his talent, his skill. “I’ve known since we were kids that you were destined for the NHL. The skill that you have is amazing, not to mention the hockey knowledge you have and the way you can read a play. You just have to get adjusted. It’s a big thing to deal with, and the people who know you, the people who matter, aren’t blaming you or getting mad at you. It’ll come. I promise.”

“I guess,” he trailed off a little, still sounding kind of broken. “Can you just get my mind off of it, please? What’s going on with you? You talked to Quinner recently?”

Your eyes widen, grateful that he can’t see your face, “Uhh, yeah, we talked a couple days ago I guess. Why, um, why do you ask?”

“You guys just seemed close at the beginning of summer, and he mentioned something last year about you guys talking quite a bit while you were both at school,” his statement almost sounded like a question, curious as to why you sounded a little panicked. 

“Oh yeah,” you chuckled trying to sound more casual, “we did get kind of close then.”

“Yeah,” he dragged the word out a little, “so, um, anyway, how are your classes going?” Jack changed the topic, assuming you were acting weird because of stress or something similar. The phone carried on as they usually did, you spilling nonsense to distract Jack from his NHL stress and Jack gladly listening to whatever stories you have for him, grateful for the distraction.

Your calls with Quinn, however, weren’t always that happy anymore. It suddenly seemed like the calls weren’t enough, that neither of you could keep going on two-hour phone calls every other day. 

“Bug, I know it’s difficult, but you could at least act like you’re happy to talk to me,” Quinn was trying, really he was, but he needed you to put in a little effort too.

“I am excited to talk to you. I promise, Bear. I just,” you pause, knowing you’ve had this conversation too many times to count at this point, “I just really wish I could see you.”

Quinn sighs, knowing exactly how you feel, “I get that, I swear because I’m dying to see you again too, but I have no clue when that could happen until summer.”

“What’s your schedule like in December? I could come to Vancouver on my Christmas break,” you had been thinking this for a while, too scared to bring it up until right now.

“Well, we have a home stand right before Christmas. Could that work?” you already knew it could.

“I think so, yeah,” you breathed out a sigh of relief, happy Quinn agreed so easily.

“Okay, I’ll get you a plane ticket for the 16th.”

“Bear, no, I can get my own ticket,” you argued.

“Nonsense. I finally have an excuse to spend my money on my girlfriend. I’m gonna use it. I am wondering though, how are we gonna deal with Jack?” 

“I’ll just tell him I’m on a girls’ trip to Vancouver, so I won’t be able to Facetime, only call or text,” you answered, probably a little too quickly. You really already had all of this completely thought out.

“Okay yeah, and I can just keep you out of the screen if anyone Facetimes me,” Quinn agrees, already sounding happier knowing he’d get to see you in just a few weeks.

Two and a half weeks later, Quinn was picking you up from the airport in Vancouver. When you both got back to his apartment, it was like everything fell into place. After a much-needed reunion, and an even more needed nap, you helped Quinn make dinner. Before you knew it, your week with Quinn was almost up, and you’d be leaving the next day. The two of you were spending your last night together curled up on the couch watching cheesy romcoms. Halfway through “10 Things I Hate About You”, your thoughts got the better of you. 

“Bear?” you question softly, awaiting Quinn’s response. 

“Yeah, Bug?”

“We’ll be okay, right? Like we’ll be able to handle the distance and the secret?” you can’t help but let the doubts creep in. 

“Of course we will,” Quinn starts. “We just gotta remember the times like this when we can’t be in the same place. We can’t let the distance get to us, so we have to look forward to when we can be together. If we focus too much on how sad we are when we’re apart, we’ll never be able to be happy together. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does. I don’t know why I was worried anyway. As long as I’ve got you I’m good,” you lean up to place a kiss on his jawline. 

“Yeah, I’m good with you too, Bug,” he returned the action, kissing your forehead. 

It would all work out, eventually.

[unovaascollectionoftrinkets]

sneak peak at a fic i'm writing !

inspired by the fact that I just want to write something where Katsuki has piercings and every freaking time I start to write one... somehow the piercings get removed... or I just don't know how to add them without saying

HEY UA! BAKUGO KATSUKI HAS piercings.

and thats not the exact ~vibe~ i'm going for.

so this is my attempt so far. (it doesnt even get to the part where they are mentioned, smh)

i give most of my fics 'code names' while writing them and then decide on the name at the end, so for now this is: pierce. obvi somethings will probably be changed when i'm done with the fic.

enjoy :)

The slam of a door reverberated through the entire dorm, shaking walls and rattling picture frames. 

Every head in the common room turned toward the source, but they didn’t need to see who it was to know. Only one member of Class 1-A possessed the strength—and sheer rage—to shake the whole damn building.

Kirishima glanced up from the couch, a knowing smirk already forming. 

“Mido, looks like you’re up,” he said, his voice laced with amused sympathy.

Izuku let out a groan that was equal parts exhaustion and resignation, dragging a hand down his face. 

Ever since he and Katsuki had worked out their… extensive history and rekindled a somewhat volatile but undeniable friendship, the rest of Class 1-A had taken to calling him the “Katsuki Whisperer.” 

The nickname stuck like super glue. 

And while Izuku secretly found a strange pride in his ability to calm the explosive blonde, it also meant he got stuck with handling him whenever the grenade went live.

Case in point: Katsuki had apparently gone nuclear. Again.

“I dunno, Kiri,” Izuku muttered. “I don’t think I can do much this time.”

“You’ve got the magic touch!” Mina chirped from across the room, grinning over her can of soda. “Just give him that voice. You know, the soft one.”

“Yeah, the calming one,” Kirishima added, his grin widening.

Izuku groaned again, louder this time. He could already feel the heat rising to his face.

The faint but unmistakable sound of blaring music began filtering down the hallway, growing louder with each passing second. Izuku’s shoulders tensed as he recognized the song.

“♫ EVERYTHING IS FUCKED, EVERYBODY SUCKS. YOU DON’T KNOW WHY, BUT YOU WANNA JUSTIFY RIPPIN’ SOMEONE’S HEAD OFF ♫”

“Yeah… definitely not going up there,” Izuku shouted over the sudden blast of Break Stuff.

“Oh, come on, Mido! He wouldn’t actually rip your head off!” Kirishima said, though his words lacked any real conviction.

“♫ NO HUMAN CONTACT, AND IF YOU INTERACT, YOUR LIFE IS ON CONTRACT ♫”

“Not helping!” Izuku snapped.

“♫ YOUR BEST BET IS TO STAY AWAY, MOTHERFUCKER! ♫”

The chorus hit like an explosion, and Izuku couldn’t help but cringe. 

If that song was playing, Katsuki was definitely in a mood. There wasn’t a chance in hell anyone was talking him down—not without risking life, limb, and possibly the structural integrity of Heights Alliance.

“Come on!” Mina pressed. She cupped her hands around her mouth and affected a dramatic falsetto. “Just hit him with the classic Hey, Kacchan~ If you don’t explode Heights Alliance, I’ll give you a big fat wet ki—”

Blackwhip shot out of Izuku faster than a lightning bolt, clamping over Mina’s mouth before she could finish.

“Don’t even say it!” Izuku yelped, his face and ears turning a mortified shade of pink. He shot a glare at the fifth user in his head. Thanks for the reflexes, really.

Mina pried the tendrils off her mouth, laughing so hard she had to grip the couch for balance. “Oh, come on, you’re blushing! That’s adorable! You know it works.”

“It’s not—it’s not like that!” Izuku stammered, his voice rising an octave as he flailed his arms in protest. “And even if it was—which it isn’t—it wouldn’t work this time.”

“Why not?” Kirishima asked, looking genuinely puzzled. “You’re the Katsuki Whisperer, man! What could he be that mad about?”

Izuku sighed heavily, glancing toward the stairwell. He could tell them, but… nah. 

Some truths were better kept under wraps. Especially because he didn’t want Katsuki to find out he was the one who let the cat out of the bag.