#it seemed like all of the artists who ever drew them were there

[cern1cal0]

for the cancelled riddlebat zine

[saintobio]

daddy’s little devils.

when dealing with not only one, but two mini versions of your husband is a type of chaos you never saw coming. but with him by your side, there’s nothing else in life you could’ve ever wished for.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader genre. domestic fluff, slice of life, explicit smut cw. dilf!sukuna, profanity, explicit smut, mommy/daddy kink, breeding kink, fellatio, spitting, unprotected, creampie, 18+ notes. 4.5k. just bcos i had to write dilf!sukuna version of this fic. enjoy >:D i was smiling throughout writing this! reblogs are highly appreciated!

Sukuna as a husband was unexpectedly romantic. Despite his cold and indifferent demeanor towards others, sometimes bordering on snarky and arrogant, he displayed a surprisingly soft side when it came to you. A really, really soft and incredibly clingy side, one where he always wants you by his side and becomes grumpy the moment you leave him alone for even a few minutes, claiming and whining about how you no longer love him. That was a hidden facet of his personality that no one else knew, a side that made him appear submissive to his wife rather than the other way around. 

But to be honest, you loved that about him. You absolutely, with all your heart and soul, adored that about him. 

However, Sukuna as a father was quite the mischief-maker. And having to deal with three versions of him in your life certainly didn’t make things any easier. 

“Ryomen Sukuna… your sons,” you exclaimed, your voice tinged with exhaustion as you burst through the front door, “are a menace.”

Your husband was lounging on the sofa when you came home, an iPad in hand, watching as you kicked off your shoes and juggled with your bag and the twins’ belongings.

“Hey, baby,” he regarded you with a bemused expression. “What did they do this time?”

You didn’t even know where to begin. In all honesty, the question should have been: what did they not do?

“Ugh! My head hurts.” As soon as you released the bags onto the floor, you sank onto the couch, frustration evident in your visage as you ran a hand through your hair. “Raiden stabbed a classmate in the back with a crayon,” you recounted in disbelief, “And Ryuji drew your ‘tattoos’ all over himself with the teacher’s marker.”

Right on cue, the two little devils—his twin boys, his exact carbon copies—barreled into the house like the troublemakers they were.  

“Papaaa!” the twins chorused, leaping into their father’s lap the moment they saw him. 

Sukuna’s smirk blossomed into a grin, clearly amused and somewhat proud of his mini-me’s. “Aww, look at my little tattoo artist!” He applauded with amusement as he carried one twin on his lap. “That’s awesome, Ryuji!” Then, he turned to Raiden, who awaited his praise as well. “And Raiden, Mama said you stabbed someone? I bet your classmate was being a jerk, huh? Good job!”

The twins and their father bonded over the mischief, with Sukuna ridiculously acting as an instigator rather than reprimanding them. Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse. Was he actually entertained with this whole ordeal?  Jesus. You shot Sukuna a glare, finding the situation far from amusing. And as soon as he caught sight of your serious expression, his face softened into an apologetic stance, silently mouthing the word, ‘sorry’.

“Ryo, stop monkeying around,” you stated firmly, crossing your arms. “They’re causing trouble, and you do realize I had to endure a lecture about their unacceptable behavior, right?”

Only when he noticed the genuine concern in your voice did he shift his tone slightly, though you could see a hint of playfulness remaining. With your husband clearing his throat and adjusting in his seat, it seemed like he was merely putting on a show of being a ‘strict dad’ in front of you, while secretly shooting winks at his sons as if to say he was just playing around.

“Alright, alright,” he began putting on an act, addressing his twins, “You two are grounded. Go to your rooms. Now.”

Instead of showing any fear, the twins giggled as they dashed out of the living room without a care in the world—their tiny footsteps echoing all over the house as they ran recklessly. They didn’t even listen when you shouted at them to be careful. And now you couldn’t help but cross your arms, clearly dissatisfied with how your husband handled the situation in jest.

“Baby, come on,” he coaxed, drawing you closer and enveloping you in his strong embrace. You could feel his chin resting on your shoulder as he placed a kiss on your cheek. “I understand your frustration. They’re naughty when they want to be. But you have to admit, they’re showing some… initiative.”

Raising an eyebrow, you watched as he struggled to suppress a laugh at his own words. “Initiative? They’re supposed to be learning how to share and play nice, not how to terrorize their classmates!”

“Right, right. Of course,” he murmured, attempting to ease the tension with a gentle massage on your shoulders. “I understand. I’ll have a talk with them, mommy. Let’s not get angry now.”

The dilemma here was your desire to maintain the facade of a strict mom, to avoid the embarrassment of picking up your kids from daycare for causing yet another trouble. You loathed the judgmental stares from other parents, the silent accusation that you and your husband weren’t disciplining your children properly. It was as if they viewed you as terrible parents. Like you didn’t raise your kids right. 

At first, their opinions didn’t bother you; after all, they knew nothing about your family beyond the PTA meetings you’ve had to attend. But time and time again, after having to offer countless apologies to the parents of your sons’ classmates and the teachers who had to deal with them, their scrutiny was starting to get into your head—that perhaps you weren’t as strict as you thought. Perhaps you were too lenient. Perhaps you needed to assert your authority over your children so they’d learn to listen to you.

Yet, despite your resolve, you couldn’t resist the charm of your twins. They were just too adorable for their own good. And, well, their dad wasn’t exactly lacking in the charm department either.

With a sigh, you leaned against his chest. “I just want them to grow up to be good, not little terrors.”

Sukuna tenderly lifted your chin, planting a soft, affectionate kiss on your lips. “I promise, they’ll turn out great. Let’s not be too hard on them.”

~~

You had to acknowledge Sukuna’s efforts and give credit where it’s due. After he had promised to ‘talk’ to the kids, you did notice a marked improvement in their behavior since then. You and your husband used to take turns picking up the twins from daycare, but recently, he had insisted on doing it more frequently than you, saying that as his latest project had been completed, he now had more available time to pick up the twins after work.

You suspected the real reason behind his request was to alleviate your stress from constantly dealing with your sons’ antics. Knowing him, Sukuna also wanted to gauge the current atmosphere at the school by having conversations with the teachers and other parents to ensure there were no issues like bullying or other serious matters. 

With that solution in place, Raiden and Ryuji became much less of a handful, and the main reason being the reward system that Sukuna had implemented for the kids, where he promised to buy them expensive toys if they earned stars for good behavior each week.

So that was how it went for the next two weeks. No calls from distressed teachers, no calls from concerned parents. In fact, the twins eagerly showed you their progress and proudly displayed the stars on their hands each time they received them. You couldn’t help but swell with pride at their accomplishments, because as small as they were to some people, they were huge achievements for you and your husband as their supportive parents. 

At least, you could relax for now. With the twins having toned down their mischievous shenanigans, your mind was more at ease. To be fair, they might seem like little devils wherever they went, but when they were peacefully sleeping like they were now on the couch, they appeared as absolute angels in your eyes. 

The living room was bathed in a dim light, with the glow of the TV screen illuminating their cute, little faces as they snuggled up together on the couch, in their peaceful slumber sandwiched between you and your husband. They had dozed off before the movie ended, and now, with the credits rolling, your family movie night concluded earlier than expected.

“My precious babies,” you cooed in a hushed voice, gently stroking Ryuji’s cheek and planting a kiss on Raiden’s nose. Their eyes, their brows, their nose, their lips—every detail was taken from their father, and nothing from you. But you didn’t mind, because you knew just how strikingly handsome they would be when they grow up. “Looks like our little troublemakers couldn’t make it to the end of the movie.” 

Sukuna chuckled softly and glanced down at his sleeping sons with a fond smile. In holding his family close, he could feel that blissful warmth flooding his heart at the sigh of his wife and his kids snuggled together. “They’re tired today. Didn’t even last an hour into watching Megamind.” 

You smiled, carefully rising from the couch so as not to disturb the sleeping twins. The moment you caught your husband’s eye, you gestured for him to lift Raiden into his arms. “Let’s get them to bed.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, scooping up Raiden, while you lifted Ryuji, and together you carried your kids to their room. 

After tucking each twin into bed and giving them a final kiss on the forehead, you motioned for your husband to quietly exit the room with you. He was still adjusting the AC for their comfort before following you out close behind. The lights in their room now completely switched off. 

“They’re out like a light,” Sukuna whispered as both of you made your way towards the master bedroom. 

You stifled a yawn, stretching your arms. “Finally, some peace and quiet.” 

“Nuh-uh,” countered your husband, who was now grinning mischievously as he stopped in his tracks and grabbed you by the waist. “Not so soon, wife.” 

Before you knew it, you were pressed against the wall, a mere few inches outside your bedroom’s door, caged between your husband’s toned arms as he looked down at you like a lion looking at its prey. His animalistic gaze never failed to send you into an orbit of weakness, like always. “H-Hey.” 

A teasing smirk then appeared on his handsome face. “You know, babe, now that the boys are asleep, we could really make good use of this time.” 

“Really, now?” You held back a chuckle, cheeks heating up from the wanton desire on your husband’s eyes. As you crossed your arms and leaned against the wall, you didn’t realize that such action only caused him to go even crazier than he already was. 

“Dammit.” His eyes danced in lust as he stared at your cleavage when you crossed your arms. He had good self-control, too. That was… until he couldn’t resist it anymore. He had to have his hand squeeze one breast gently, fondling the rounded mass like they were his personal stress balls. “Are you ovulating, honey? They look huge.” 

You weren’t sure as it had been while since you tracked it, but your breasts did feel heavier lately. And sore, too, because he was kneading them. “Hmm. I might be expecting my period soon.” 

Very playfully, Sukuna leaned forward to trail kisses along your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin as he spoke, “What do you say we add another one to the bunch?” was his whispered suggestion, “A little girl, maybe? I know a few positions.” 

“Are you serious?” You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a laugh. “With these two little devils wreaking havoc, you still want to add more chaos to the mix?” 

His finger was already looping around the strap of your nightgown, pulling it down with a salacious upward curve of his lips. “You know you love the chaos, babe.” You could feel his hands moving to grab a handful of your buttocks, squeezing your bum eagerly. “Plus, imagine all the mischief our little girl could get up to.” 

You couldn’t help it either—the desire, the tension. Not to mention, your husband was looking undeniably hot right now, with the muscles on his chest pressing against yours, making you want nothing but to see him shirtless again. Those toned abs, those muscular arms. God. His lips were also soft and sweet when he pulled you into an open-mouthed kiss 

“You are,” you mumbled in between kisses, breathing heavily against his mouth, “very naughty, mister.” 

You felt him smirking through your kiss before he grabbed your thighs, and lifted you up so you could wrap them around his waist. The kissing, the very intense kissing, with his tongue rolling against yours and you moaning against his mouth, was already as erotic as it could get. When was the last time you two had sex? Last week? You couldn’t remember which specific day it was, but you did recall it being only a quick one in the shower. This time, it definitely wouldn’t be a quickie as he seemed to have plans in giving you a sleepless night. 

Sukuna carefully placed you down in your king-sized bed, pulling his shirt off and once again crawling above you to hungrily meet your lips with his. And did you mention he was a good multitasker?  As he nibbled on your lower lip, breathing you in like you were an addicting drug he couldn’t get enough off, his fingers were also rubbing your clothed entrance, pulling your underwear to the side to touch your moist cunt. 

“Mhmm—!”

Two fingers entered you without warning, and he pulled away from the kiss to look at the face you were making as he used his digits to find your sweet spot. “You’re so fuckin’ hot, Y/N.” 

You arched your back, spreading your legs wide open to give him full access to your core. The moment he was able to reach your g-spot, you could feel your lower abdomen coiling from the intense wave of pleasure that was coursing through your body. “Nghh—yes, daddy. That’s it!” 

A few more pumps, hard and fast, had you gasping for air like a fish out of the ocean. He seemed to have loved the sight too, as he kept his dark, sultry eyes fixed on you while he fingered you like there was no tomorrow. “You’re one hot mama, aren’t you?” he asked, withdrawing his fingers and sucking on them to taste your slick. “Can I fuck your mouth, baby?”

“‘Mmkay,” you answered, pulling yourself up to help him rid himself of his pajamas. The sight of his bulge—his big, angry bulge—made you all the more excited. You had seen him many times before and knew just how huge his member could grow when aroused, but it still didn’t change the fact that seeing his fully erect cock surprised you every single time. Because it was thick, it was long, it was meaty, it was veiny. “Gosh, lovey. You’re huge.” 

He obviously liked hearing that. Not only did you inflate his ego, it also made him desire you even more as he positioned his shaft on your face, pulling your hair into a ponytail. “Open your mouth.” 

Like a good girl, you did as told. And your eyes went wide as he forced his cock inside, thrusting balls deep in and out of your mouth. He was doing it roughly to the point where your eyes pooled with tears because your gag reflex kept on fighting back. You couldn’t even taste him properly because your saliva was coating his entire length, but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling in satisfaction as you watched your husband throw his head back from the utmost pleasure of being inside your mouth. 

“Ah, fuck. Fuck.” He cussed multiple times, jostling his hips before pulling his member out. “Your mouth’s so warm.” 

For a moment, you replaced your mouth with your hand, an elbow propped on the other as you stroked his girthy length. You jacked him off at the pace you knew he preferred, and placed your tongue flat on the swollen pink head like it was a lollipop. You were kissing the tip with your eyes staring back at him, ultimately driving him into insanity. “Like that, daddy?” 

“Fuck yes,” he grunted, his vulgar thoughts now consuming his actions as he grabbed your chin up, only to then spit in your mouth. “I’m gonna get you pregnant tonight,” he declared in a deep, raspy voice, “Gonna fill up that pretty little pussy with my cum.” 

Damn, he’s serious about it? 

As embarrassing as it may sound, you could feel your pussy clenching from his lewd words. “You want a baby girl for real?” 

Your husband lowered himself down to meet your level, undressing you impatiently like a rabid dog who was ready to bite its victim. And in your naked glory, he then spread your legs apart and rubbed his shaft in between your labia. “I do,” he said, puppy eyes hoping for you to say yes, “I want a baby girl, please. Please. Please.” 

Could you even resist this man? 

You gave him an answer by nodding, holding your smile by biting your lower lip as you watched your silly husband reach through the nightstand in search of the lube. Because he was too crazed with excitement, a couple packs of unused condoms fell out of the drawer as he grabbed the strawberry-colored tube. 

“Take it easy. Jeez,” you teased. 

“You’re driving me nuts here.” 

You decided to tease him even more by touching yourself, your fingers doing circular motions on your clit as your husband coated his entire length with the water-based lube. The smell of artificial strawberry permeated through the air, and with it being your favorite scent, you felt more stimulated than ever. “Mmm. I want you inside me now, lovey.” 

“What mommy wants, mommy gets,” he joked, manhandling both your legs into placing it above his shoulders and putting you into his favorite position. The classic missionary. “Ah, shit.” He buried his member agonizingly slow. “Why… are… you so damn tight tonight?” 

Maybe because you were clenching around his cock, squeezing his angry member with your velvet walls and giving him that extra good grip he always went absolutely wild for. “A-Aah! Y-You love it.” 

“Fuck, yeah.” He began thrusting now. Using his thumb to spread your slit apart, he delighted in seeing his cock go in and out of your entrance, watching the full length be swallowed by your cavern entirely. And he was going from slow and sensual, to rough and fast in less than a minute. 

He was just far too deep inside. Now, you were losing hold on your sanity as with every jostle of your body, your insides were also reacting more and more violently with your knees and thighs shaking. The skin slapping sounds were bouncing across the room, and you were hoping, praying, that your soundproof walls worked well enough not to wake your innocent twins. Because at this rate, you were going to squirt all over their father. It had been sometime since you felt the need to pee during intercourse, but that also speaks of just how intense Sukuna was plowing his hardened cock inside of you. 

“D-Daddy, I… I’m…” 

He attached his mouth on your right tit, playing his tongue around the nipple. “Mhm… You’re so sexy, mommy.” 

Two little boys. And your husband still won’t stop until he gets his little girl. 

Your mind was a whirlwind that night. The events that followed became such a blur because your pleasure overpowered your ability to think straight. All you could remember was Sukuna releasing his warm load into your womb after chasing his climax, and immediately after, he had your body twisted around and positioned into what he refers ‘the undefeated’ doggy style. 

Gosh, he was telling the truth when he said he was going to fuck you all night with no breaks in between. 

Because now, you were on all fours, being pounded from behind as you had your hands gripping the sheets each time he propelled his body forward. He was shoving his cock from behind like it was his day job, already familiar with the perfect angle and depth in which he had to rut you in. With his hands holding your hips in place, he raised one leg on the mattress, and the other knee still intact, to fuck you senseless. 

“Mmm—Aah! Haah!” 

The deeper he penetrated you, the lower your upper body went. You were now in a position with your chest down low, and your ass up high so that he could see your hole in a much, much better view. “You think you can take ‘nother round after this, babe?” he asked, breathless as he reached forward to squeeze your tit. “I don’t wanna push your limits.” 

“I-I don’t t-think I c-can…”

You could hear his deep chuckle despite your frenzied state, and soon enough, he was increasing the speed of his thrusts once more, cursing and moaning while doing so, before shooting thick ropes of seed inside your cunt. 

He collapsed next to you right after that, while you were completely limp in labored breaths as you lay beside him. The feeling of his semen dripping out of your pussy had you reaching for your husband’s arm, pointing towards the box of tissue with your half-lidded eyes. You were too sore to move. 

Sukuna immediately got the cue. “I got it,” he said, pecking your lips before doing the task of wiping the mess on your body. And as soon as he was able to clean you off, he quickly went back beside you, pulling you into a sweet, husbandly embrace. “Good night, beautiful.” 

You hummed in your drowsy state, his chest becoming the perfect pillow for your head to sleep on. “Night, night, handsome.” 

~~

Good lord was his body sore. 

But was that the greatest fucking sex he has ever had? Hell yes. It was so good that he even dreamed of it. 

As the morning sun streamed through the curtains, the aftermath of your passionate night was evident in the tousled sheets and sleepy smiles that you both had that morning. He still had you in his arms, your body secured around his as he pressed his lips into your temple. 

“Good morning, my love.” 

You stirred awake, blinking sleepily as you stretched beneath the warmth of the covers. He could tell you were still groggy from last night’s events, and he was a hundred percent certain that you were also too sore to walk. “Morning, lovey.” 

But before he could savor the domestic moment with you, the bedroom door burst open, and a fully awakened Raiden and Ryuji came in with their energy back at 100%. Oh, boy. Sukuna just had to forget locking the door last night. 

Raiden, in his polka pjs, was jumping up and down excitedly. “Mama! Papa! Wake up!” 

He was joined by his twin brother, Ryuji, who was in his striped pajamas, skipping around the room. “We want pancakes, pwease!” 

Sukuna could feel you stiffening next to him, and he saw the look of panic in your eyes upon realizing that you were very much naked under the sheets. So, hastily and frantically, your beloved husband pulled the duvet, covering your chest from being exposed and hoping to conceal any tell-tale marks. 

“Shh! Keep it down, boys,” he reprimanded the twins, “Mama and Papa are still sleeping.”

The stubborn Ryuji placed his hands on his hips. “But you’re awake, Papa!” 

On the other hand, Raiden, who climbed the king-sized bed, was pointing towards his mother. “Mama, what’s on your shoulder?” 

At the sight of the marks, Sukuna’s eyes widened in alarm and his cheeks were limned with a crimson hue. His mind raced for a plausible explanation because those exact bruises on your shoulder were, in fact, hickeys. So before you could speak, he took it upon himself to handle the matter. “That... It’s, uh, a battle wound.” He mentally kicked himself for such a ridiculous lie. “Mama’s very brave, you see. She fought off a giant mosquito last night.”

You stifled a laugh, burying your face into the pillow for a moment, and later deciding to play along. “That’s right,” you agreed, nodding seriously. “Mama’s a warrior.”

Raiden and Ryuji, however, were too smart for this as the twins exchanged skeptical glances, clearly not buying their parents' explanation. And with Raiden being the more vocal one, he pointed it out first. “But why does it look like a bunch of tiny kisses?”

Sukuna struggled now, and while he was still thinking of another excuse, you finally stepped in to try and save the day. 

And thank the heavens, you handled it a lot more casually than he did. “It’s a secret,” you said, smiling at your kids, “Mama and Papa have a secret game they play sometimes. Right, Papa?”

Your husband quickly joined in on your little antic. “That’s right, it’s a secret game! But it’s only for grown-ups,” he clarified to the curious twins, who were clearly intrigued by this mysterious ‘game’. “You two aren’t old enough to play yet.”

The twins exchanged curious glances, their skepticism giving way to fascination. “Okay,” Raiden said slowly, still pondering the explanation. Ryuji just shrugged, accepting it more readily. 

Only then did Sukuna breathe a silent sigh of relief as he was grateful for your quick thinking. But with children like these two, the interrogation was clearly far from over because Ryuji decided to make things even more complicated when he picked up an unused packet of condom on the floor, its bright red color attracting his interest. “Mama, is this candy?” asked your son, pointing to the strawberry logo, “Can I have it?” 

“No, sweetheart, that’s not candy,” you softly spoke. The composure in your voice was outstanding. Sukuna should definitely learn a thing or two from you. “Give it to Mama.” 

And while you dealt with the other twin, Raiden jumped out of bed and tugged at his father’s arm persistently. “Papa, pancakes!” he demanded, throwing a tantrum as he chanted. “Pancakes! Pancakes! We want pancakes!” 

“Okay, okay!” The father sighed inwardly, shooting you a look for help as if he was their slave for the day. All you could do was chuckle and mouth ‘you got this’ back to him. Well, he didn’t have much of a choice, did he? “Coming right up, you little monsters.” 

“Yayy!” 

“Woohoo!” 

You, barely handling the noise at six in the morning, groaned playfully next to your husband. “See? Having another kid isn’t as easy as you think,” you told him, “We can barely handle these two.” 

Sukuna displayed a grin, running a hand through his hair as he looked at his wife and your little ones. “Boys, do you want a baby sister? Yes or yes?” 

Raiden and Ryuji, in unison, answered giddily. “Yes! We want a baby sister!” 

A look of defeat clouded your eyes, while your husband laughed and kissed your forehead. “You heard them, love,” he reminded, softly, “I want my baby girl soon.” 

He knew that, despite your playful protest, having a daughter was a shared desire. “Fine.” 

So in swift movements, your husband slipped into his pants beneath the covers, then got out of bed to scoop up the twins in his arms. “Alright, breakfast time you two!” he announced, heading towards the door with his sons cheering together. And just before leaving, he cast one last tender smile in your direction. 

“I love you, Y/N. Chaos and all.” 

[fleshbride]

PRESENTING . . . AIN’T NUN BUT A HOOCHIE MAMA!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ TOJI FUSHIGURO X F!BLK!HOOCHIE READER

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ CW: black fem reader; reader is 26, toji is 34; reader is on the thicker side; usage of the word nigga a few times; smut; breeding kink, hair pulling, dumbification, overstimulation, pussy slapping, impact play, messy pussy eatin’, size kink, hints of sado-masochism, a bit of brat taming, manhandling, praise & degradation, multiple orgasms, cervix fucking, choking, squirting; fwb-ish to lovers (?); pet names are used, such as mama, baby, pretty girl, dollface, princess & sweetheart; reader has a kid of her own; reader is a hoochie, meaning she’s seen as ‘ghetto’ but in a very pro-black & attractive way; reader has a mature body, pudge, cellulite, stretch marks; reader accidentally flashes toji; reader & toji share a blunt; toji is actually a good dad in this!

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ wc: 7.5k

⭒ ݁ . ໒꒱ this is actually pure filth. this was my first time writing for toji EVER and actually my longest work. guys when i tell you i put some shit into this thing, idk what i did but i SNAPPED. HARD. i hope you guys enjoy this nasty thing that came from my imagination. not proof read or anything so pls excuse my typos!

sometimes, your job could be a godsend. who knew that a simple job at the local hair store would catapult you into meeting one of the sexiest men you’d ever seen?

to be completely honest, it wasn’t solely your job that sparked such an interaction. it was moreso you; you possessed an irresistible, unmistakable charm that was impossible to ignore. your voice, soft as a lullaby, held a dulcet quality that drew people in like a magnet. anytime you opened your mouth to speak, you commanded attention effortlessly, as if your words held some mystical power that captivated any listener.

everyone was always drawn to you, and it wasn't hard to see why. who in their right mind wouldn’t be smitten? you were a vision of beauty, with your radiant brown skin that seemed to glow as if illuminated from within. your smile, perfect and white, could light up even the darkest room, making hearts skip a beat. your eyes were another story altogether. they seemed to sparkle, glimmering with an intensity that was all yours.

your hair was always done, you always made sure that you had a fresh set of lashes. to add, you never forgot to apply your clear lip gloss. now, this wasn't just any gloss, it was your signature, lip gloss added a radiant shine and highlighted the natural beauty of your plump and full lips. your lips, always so perfectly glossed, assumed an irresistible charm that made them look especially appetizing.

to add onto it, your personality was in tip top shape, matching your looks. while sometimes your mouth could get a little reckless, you had an air of kindness, professionalism and just genuine good vibes. it was hard to dislike you, no matter the case. you were a woman of wonders.

you loved your job at the hair store too; maybe that was why your attitude was always good while you were there. it paid well, the hours were flexible and it was something you enjoyed. you loved how your manager let you pick out the wigs and the outfits that would be displayed, and sometimes she let you take home left over makeup and jewelry — which was how you got your favorite set of hoop earrings.

working at the hair store also granted you all types of experiences. sometimes you met upcoming make-up artists and beauticians, hair dressers, nail techs, lash techs — you always made sure to be extra helpful and friendly to everyone you met, just in case they could ever help you.

or… on the rare occasion, you met men. often, they were coming in for their wives, daughters, sisters, nieces, friends — and each time, they were clueless. of course, you helped, breezing past them with the smell of bubblegum and perfume, preferably daisy by marc jacobs.

today was no different.

you were the only one working in the store this saturday, and it was roughly around 12 in the afternoon. the sound of needed me by rihanna echoed through the store, giving it a nice ambiance. you clocked in at 9, and were scheduled to get off at 4 — you had a bit of a long day ahead. however, the store had been a bit slow today. not many customers entered; maybe three every hour, compared to a usual 7-15 people per hour. you were both grateful and a bit sad for the lack of people, as it left you with extra time on your hands.

instead, you found yourself thinking of your six year old daughter at home. alaina, your sweet girl, who was at her grandmother’s for the day. you fondly rubbed the bead bracelet she made for you, that spelled out mommy. your daughter was the most loving child you knew, and you adored her with every part of you.

as you gazed at your bracelet, you let out a soft hum. you’d have to get her another one from here, even though she already had a plethora. whatever you got from the hair store, you usually shared with alaina.

the entrance bell dinging had you snapping out of your thoughts of your daughter, turning your head to greet whoever entered. your boxbraids slid down your back as you looked. it was a little girl who entered, no more than nine. she was in a cute blue dress, with dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail. her cheeks were rosy, which had you cooing at her mentally.

“hi baby,” you called out to her, looking behind her for a parent, “where’s ya mama, hm? a lil’ one like you shouldn’t be walking around all alone.” the girl hadn’t noticed you, and jumped when you called to her. she put her hands up, waving them enthusiastically. “o-oh no, miss, i’m with my dad! he’s just getting his wallet. do you know where the nails are? and the makeup?”

you smiled at the little girl, stepping from behind the counter. you were in a beige sun dress, with some matching wedged sandals. the sundress was long, coming down to your ankles, but there was a slit on the side. it hugged your curves nicely, even though your little bit of pudge was much noticeable; you didn’t care. to be honest, the dress covered way more than your usual outfits, especially in the summer like this. you had never been scared to show your body, even after you had alaina and people insisted on you covering up; because you were a mother now. however, you didn’t give a fuck. if you wanted to wear your shortest shorts, you would.

“c’mere baby girl, it’s this way.” you offered the young girl your hand, which she took happily as you led her. “i’m assuming you’re looking for the press ons, right? not the ones you glue?”

the girl gave you an enthusiastic nod. “yes, ma’am!” she was polite, you noted, with a curl of your lips. her father must be raising her right. “my dad says i’m not big enough to ruin my nails with glue..”

you let out a laugh as you squeezed the girl’s hand. “your daddy’s right,” you mused, “stick to the ones you can press til you become a teenager.” you brought her to the kiddie nails, and stood with her while she made her pick.

the young girl seemed stuck between a pair of pink ones leopard print ones, and blue zebra print ones. “what do you think, miss? i can’t choose.”

you only gave the girl a shrug. “i say get both. let ya daddy worry, not you.” however, because you liked this little girl, you’d only charge her for one anyways. the girl nodded in agreement, giving you a giggle, which you quickly reciprocated.

all of a sudden, you heard the gruff call of, “tsumiki! where have you ran off to?” the girl perked up immediately, and ran to the end of the aisle. “dad! i’m over here!” she called, waiting patiently for him to come over.

you raised your eyebrow as you made your way over. you were a bit curious to see the man who had raised such a sweet and polite girl. as you reached the end, your eyes widened as they set on the man.

he was tall, unbelievably so. his towering stature, reaching at least 6’2, must’ve made him stand out in any crowd. his body was muscular, brawny and well-built, and t he black compression shirt he wore clung to his chiseled frame, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. his hair, a deep black, was just a bit shaggy — the perfect length to frame his strikingly sharp face.

his eyes were a vivid green, so piercing that they could make anyone feel as if they were the only person in the world. they locked onto you and tsumiki. his attractiveness was lethal, and it was impossible not to notice the way he looked over you. his gaze was slow, lingering, and purposeful, almost as if he wanted to make sure you noticed his attention.

you would’ve been phased if you were a different woman; but you weren’t. instead, you gave him your trademark smile, looking up at him with a warm aura.

a scar sat on the corner of his lip. it twitched slightly as his lips curled into a smirk, making him look even more attractive to you then he already did.

“you work here?” came his deep, rough voice. it provoked goosebumps down your skin, but you didn’t allow yourself to show it.

“yup,” you answered, “sorry i wasn’t at the counter, i was helpin’ miss thing here pick out some new nails.” you watched toji’s mouth open, and held up a finger, “and yea, before you ask — it’s the press ons. no glue needed.” the man let out a hum and gave a nod of approval.

“good. tsumiki, go put those on the counter and if you want anything else, ya better pick before i get back up there.” he told her; his voice was rough, yet still somehow sounded caring. when tsumiki scampered away with an, “okayyy!”, he turned his vision back to you.

the once over he gave you earlier didn’t seem to be enough. he gave you another; from your champagne blond knotless boxbraids which were long and down your back, curving over the swell of your ass, down to your painted white toes in your sandals. shit. you were fucking hot.

“how old are you?” he asked boldly, not wasting a second.

you raised an eyebrow, “you ain’t ever heard it ain’t good to ask a lady her age?”

“so old enough,” he countered back with a smug smirk. “have you been able to drink legally for at least two years?” still asking your age without pointedly asking like before.

“i’ve been old enough to drink legally for five years,” you relented, “so like i said, old enough. why you askin’?”

“i like to know the ages of my women before i hit on ‘em.”

you grinned. you already knew you were going to like this man, and his attitude towards you solidified that. “and i like to know the age of my men before i let them,” you combatted.

“thirty-four,” he answered immediately, and the corner of your lips pulled up in satisfaction. twenty-six and thirty-four. not a bad age gap, only eight years. you could manage.

“you allowed to hit on me now,” you said playfully as you slid past him, “don’t make the shit corny, ‘cause i’ll laugh at yo ass.” maybe that’s his plan, you thought, him tryna laugh me out my panties.

the man let out a bark of a laugh, following after you. you could almost feel his eyes locked on you as your hips swayed while you walked. he only chuckled out, “oh, don’t worry about that.”

you went back behind the counter, ready to pay for their things. tsumiki had thrown a stack of bracelets on the counter, and a new tube of sparkly pink lip gloss to which you scanned and then only scanned a pack of the nails. her father raised an eyebrow at you, but you pretended not to notice. “that’ll be 18.75,” you informed. her father pulled out thirty dollars and slid it to you. as you prepared to give him the change, he shook his head.

“don’t need the change. consider it a tip or somethin’.” you furrowed your brows at him, but didn’t question the customer. instead, you handed them their things with a sweet smile. “bye, lil’ missy,” you told tsumiki, before looking up at the man, “come back soon.” your voice was low, and quite flirtatious. he gave you a smirk.

“oh, i will.”

and he did.

it was three days later when he finally came back. you were leaned over the counter, examining your new nails. it was hot, too hot to even be working. the doors were open, and the AC’s were blasting, trying to cool off the store. you wore a jean miniskirt, with a fat gucci belt on your hips. you paired it with a cropped pink tank top that had a deep v-neck, showing off a bit of your cleavage. your golden nameplate sat perfectly on the apex of your breasts. today on your feet instead of sandals were your pair of pink and white dunks. you had taken out your box braids, and gotten your hair done the same day you got your nails done.

now, you had gotten a lace front installed — and you looked good as fuck. it was a deep shade of vibrant purple, down your back. you had added your own spin, doing one of those heart shaped parts and gelling it down the side of your forehead, and doing edges on the side.

as someone entered, you turned your head to the side to greet them. “good afternoon,” you said cheerfully, looking at the woman who entered. she was dark skinned, with a bumped bob. her makeup was done sharply. you watched as she side eyed you, and muttered out a terse, “hello.”

immediately your eyebrows furrowed. “bitches got an attitude, okay,” you grumbled under your breath as she disappeared into the aisles. it was a few minutes later when she came to the register with a flat iron. off the rip, you told her, “oh mama, you don’t want this one. a few people who purchased this one have said that it heat up too quick and smoke a lot, then breaks. so go ‘head and get another one.”

the woman glared at you, looking you up and down. “excuse me, i didn’t ask for your opinion on what i’m buying. and if it’s so faulty, why haven’t you taken it off the shelves?”

her attitude immediately had you tilting your head, trying your best to bite your tongue. “ma’am, that ain’t my job, i don’t do merchandise, i work at the register.”

she rolled her eyes at you, before snapping out, “then don’t say anything about said merchandise.”

your next words came out before you could even think about it, “ho, i’m tryna help you not burn this crispy fuck ass bob off but okay.” upon realizing what you said, you didn’t apologize nor change. instead you cocked your head, tilting it, while staring at her blankly.

“excuse me?” the woman asked, “honestly, i don’t think i’m taking hair advice from a woman who don’t wear hers natural, and has her skirt digging up her ass. how old are you? you have to have a child at home, dress with more fucking class before you talk about me,” the woman’s face was twisted as she snapped at you.

“i know damn fuckin’ well,” you said slowly — and just like that, you knew you were about to cuss her ass out. “i know DAMN fucking well that you’re not talking to me like that. bitch, are you mad that your ass built like a fuckin’ square? bitch be mad then cause that’s why yo ass slope like y=mx+b. bitch, don’t you EVER question my fashion choices when you’re wearing leather in 87 degree weather. you fuckin’ cereal box built ass bitch, you know what, i got a trick for you—“ you quickly took the flat iron from her and pointed a nail at the door. “now get the fuck out, bitch you’re banned.” the woman opened her mouth to retort, but you were faster, talking over her, “bitch, i don’t give a FUCK. get the fuck out.”

the woman mumbled a, “ghetto bitch.” before storming out the store while you massaged your temples. it was nothing you hadn’t heard though. “fuck be wrong with bitches. man, i need a fucking BLUNT.”

“personally, i would’ve hopped over the counter.”

you looked up at the familiar voice, seeing the man you met the other day. immediately, a grin spread across your face. “look who came back.”

“told ‘ya that i would.” he mused, walking up to the counter, “you should’ve thrown the flat iron at her face. i would’ve paid money to see that.” he wore a white wifebeater and black basketball shorts. did he just come from the gym or something? the lack of clothing allowed you to see just about all of his muscles, and god, were you pleased.

you snorted, giving him a playful eyeroll. “shit, i was fuckin’ thinking about it. you saw the whole thing?” the mystery man, who you decided to dub mr. man, gave you a nod. “positively. you cleaned her so beautifully, and i have to add, you look so, so appealing when you’re angry.”

“shut up, nigga,” you laughed as you put your elbows on the counter, cupping your face with both hands. “what’re you here for?” you looked up at him, and he mimicked your action, fitting his fat ass arms on the counter.

“i need some hair gel for my son. he’s in this spiky phase, shit, i don’t know,” mr. man rolled his eyes a little bit, before adding, “and i don’t know which to pick. as you can clearly see, i don’t use gel.”

you let out another laugh, coming from behind the counter. “yeah, c’mon mr. man, i’ll show you which to use.” off the rip, you noticed how his eyes locked on your body.

yeah, i got it like that, nigga, your inner thoughts said as you internally hyped yourself up.

“mr.man?” he questioned from behind you, his eyes focused on the way your hips swayed, and the way a little bit of your ass was uncovered by the skirt.

“well, you never told me your name, so i gave you a nickname.”

he snorted a little before saying, “well, my name’s toji, for one.” you thought about it for a second for a second. was that a moanable name? you went through it in your head. yeah. definitely moanable.

“my name y/n,” you finally disclosed, “but everybody just call me n/n.” toji nodded a little. “n/n… that’s cute.” you noticed one of the items had fallen off the shelf, and without hesitation, you bent over to pick it up, completely forgetting about the fact that you were wearing a skirt, and the man behind you.

toji almost had a fucking heart attack. his eyes zoomed in onto your now slightly revealed ass, your sheer red panties that showed the plush outline of your pussy. shit. shit. it was over in a second, much to his mixed chagrin and gratefulness. however, he wasn’t some boy — he maintained a straight face and control. you placed the item back on the shelf and resumed walking.

“alright,” you said, as you reached the gels, “see, here’s what i use for my daughter,” you held up a jar of eco. “eco holds good for her, and it lasts long, to be honest. her hair is a bit thicker. and it doesn’t have like color residue like prostyle gel.” you grabbed the black container of prostyle gel. “but if your son has like brown-black hair, it’ll be good.” toji shook his head, saying, “nah, he has that weird bluish-black.” you tutted and put the prostyle down.

“there’s also gorilla snot gel, which i recommend if his hair is straighter, you feel me?” you held up the yellow bottle of gorilla snot.

toji looked at both and let out a short groan. “i can’t decide. i’ll take ‘em both and see which works better.” you shrugged and passed them to him. you took note of how positively huge his hands were. they could probably cover your whole face. or… your entire ass.

“i didn’t know you had a little runt too,” he made conversation with you as you walked back to the counter, “i forgot you’re almost 30.”

“yeah i forget too, trust,” you laughed a little, “my little girl’s my pride and joy, her name’s alaina. she’ll be starting first grade this year, i’m so proud of her. i actually got pictures.” you pulled out your phone and showed him your lockscreen which was the two of you. toji chuckled.

“y’all look alike, cute,” he commented, “my son’s seven, and tsumiki’s eight. you met her last time.” you fondly recalled your encounter with the polite young girl. “you a single parent, too?”

you gave him a nod, and a shrug. “alaina’s daddy claimed he wanted nothing to do with her, so i kept it like that. then his stupid ass got locked up, thank riddance.” toji let out a short laugh. “tsumiki’s mom was my first wife, and we divorced. megumi, my son, his mom was my second. unfortunately, she passed.”

“aw,” you said, pouting sadly and placing a hand on his large arm. “i’m so sorry for your loss, sweetheart. i hope you’re doing alright.”

toji laughed a little. “i’m fine, pretty mama, don’t worry about me.”

you bristled at the new nickname, giving toji a wicked grin. “that’s how you referring to me now?” you asked, as you slid behind the counter to the register.

“you’re pretty, and you’re a mama,” toji said with a shrug. “it honestly only fits.” you very pointedly made sure to check him out and said, “mmhmm..”

as you rung him up, toji said, “does alaina need any new friends? my son’s a bit shy and doesn’t talk to nobody but his sister… maybe they could have a few play dates?”

“yeah, i’d love that!” you answered, a genuine smile coming onto your face. anything referring to your daughter made you happiest. “your total is 14.95. here i’ll give you my number...” as toji paid, you rang it up. on his receipt, you wrote your number and passed it to him.

toji grinned and gave you a nod. “see you around.” you wiggled your fingers in return.

see him around, you did. you and toji were quick to hook up play dates whenever your schedules aligned. you became familiar with the routine of getting off work in the afternoons and scooping alaina’s to head to toji’s to play with her two new best friends.

you and toji often stayed downstairs, while they played in tsumiki’s room. you and toji would watch movies, roll blunts and eat food — or sometimes even play texas hold ‘em, in which you won every single time.

toji would grumble, and accuse you of cheating, when in truth, he was really just a bad gambler, but all was well. you considered toji a good friend… of sorts.

because that’s what you two were; friends. friends who sometimes flirted a little; you considered toji a friend when you’d bend over to pick things up in those skimpy jean shorts you wore; toji considered you a friend when he’d slide past you, pressing his crotch against the curve of your ass and muttering a, “excuse me, n/n,”; you considered toji a friend when you’d play sexyyred and say the lyrics a little too… forceful; and he considered you a friend when he’d make slick little sexy comments about your body before adding, “that’s just what other guys think.”

safe to say… there was a bit of tension between you two. and finally, it came to a crescendo.

it was normal, at first. like usual, you and alaina were at toji's house. it was around 9:30pm, and the kids had collapsed after playing all damn day and finally having a meal of chicken nuggets. you remembered the look on your face discovered them. they were heaped in the large bed; tsumiki had more than enough room for all three of them, yet they were together. alaina was draped over megumi and tsumiki, her face in megumi’s chest but her body pressed to tsumiki’s. they were all tangled up, limbs skewed and whatnot.

and now, you and toji were together downstairs, toji watching as your nimble fingers crafted the blunt — his were too fat. your feet were in his lap, and he was watching you with those bright green eyes. as you rolled, you were mumbling one of sexyy’s songs. “fuck me like you mad at me, baby.. i need that dick to drive me crazyyyyy…” you sang under your breath.

toji raised an eyebrow at you, “the music you listen to has some really… meaningful words.” as you licked at the blunt, you let out a laugh. “i agree with everything she say. when suki said that if you ain’t eating coochie, you ain’t fucking, i felt that one.”

finally, you perfected it and grabbed toji’s lighter. “you only fuck eaters?” he said, amusement trickling through his voice. you lit the blunt and took a deep inhale, masterfully blowing it up into your nose and then out again before passing it to him. “yup. only fuck eaters ‘cause they do it the best. you an eater, toji?” you asked pointedly, watching as one of his rough hands drew circles on your leg, then up to your knee, while the other lifted the blunt to his lips. he took an inhale, then another. god, you hated double hitters, but it was okay — it was only you two.

“wouldn’t you like to know?” toji shot back, his trademark smirk sliding across his face. his lip twitched, scar jumping.

“that’s why the fuck i asked you, toji,” you clapped back immediately, making the older man squeeze your leg while passing the blunt back. “watch your mouth, n/n. don’t get fucked up.”

“or what?” you immediately retort, holding the blunt up to your lips as you took another puff. “you not gon’ do shit to me, toji, like i honestly wish you w—“ your words were halted by the man throwing your legs off his lap, one hand going to spread them roughly as he pressed his fingers against your clothed cunt.

“i’m not gonna do shit?” he repeated, as your eyes went wide; he had obviously startled you, but you weren’t opposed to this one bit. as his fingers rubbed at your pussy through your shorts, you shook your head feverently again, looking at him as you held the blunt to your glossed lips. “not a damn thing.”

when all toji did was nod, you were sure you were in for it. and you were. he was quicker than you, grabbing your hand that held the blunt and quickly forcing you to put the blunt in the ashtray. the smoke you were holding in your mouth was forcefully removed as toji roughly pressed his lips to yours, the smoke being shared between you two as he pried your lips apart.

the next few minutes were coated in a needy haze. his big hands were everywhere, all over your body. moving to squeeze at your tits, your ass, your thighs. eventually the settled on the waistband of your shorts and began to unbutton them. before pulling them off completely, leaving you in your lacy dark blue thong.

he pinched the plush of your pussy, barely hidden by the panties — more like decorated by it. immediately, the scent of your slick, which was already dripping, filled toji’s nostrils, making him let out a wanton moan.

“fuck, mama,” he hissed as he trailed his finger down your slit, “you always this wet? this is how you’ve been the entire time?” he looked up at you, eyes darkened with lust.

“no,” you lied immediately, giving him a reckless smirk. “she just like that off the rip. i determine whether it’s for you or not.” toji only let out a little laugh. “word?” he asked. you opened your mouth to repeat the word back to him, but you were rudely interrupted by him slapping your pussy.

it wasn’t hard, but it wasn’t exactly soft, the pain sending sparks of pleasure through you. you hissed out a, “shit..” toji smirked at your reaction as he pushed your panties to the side, before delivering another smack, this time a litle harder. you let out a mewl, squirming in his hold.

“crazy,” toji said to you, “two lil’ slaps just made you leagues wetter. you sure you’re not wet for me?”

you refused to answer, only giving him a shrug. “so you wanna be a brat now, huh?” he asked you with an eyebrow raise as he began to pull the panties down your thighs. “like you weren’t jus’ all over me. ‘toji, you a eater?’” he mocked you in a high pitched voice as he pulled you forward, legs sliding over his broad shoulders. you remained silent, biting your tongue. maybe you were a brat; you knew that with toji’s strength and stamina, you would get much more if you drew it out. plus, you wanted to make him work for every moan, every word.

“you gon eat my pussy or not?” you asked boldly, your hand going to lace through his hair, nails pressing against his scalp. “like literally, shut the f—!” you were interrupted by toji latching his mouth onto you, completely ripping the words from your mouth.

his tongue, long and flat, slid between your plush folds, calloused hands digging into your thighs as he shoved his face between your legs. off the rip, his motions were rough and quick, tongue swirling against your clit before going down to your hole, curling against it to lap at your essence. you gripped the couch as you let out soft moans, trying not to be too loud — you didn’t wanna fuel toji’s already large ego.

“fuck,” he mumbled as he pulled away, “pussy’s so sweet, baby. i should’ve bent you over in that fucking store the day you wore that skirt.” you were unable to respond before he was diving back in, tongue messily trailing througu your pussy. he was there between your thighs, feasting on what you offered, lapping up all the sweet nectar you had to spare. his lips latched onto the delicate bud of your clit, sucking with a fervor that left you gasping, while he looked up at you with a gaze that was as heated as it was prideful.

one of your hands found its way into his hair, tangling in the soft locks as you gripped it tightly, the other clutching onto the plush fabric of the couch as though it was your only lifeline. your breaths were coming out in ragged gasps, each one harder to catch than the last, your mouth falling open in that perfect 'o' shape as you let out sounds so sweet and melodious, singing a song of pure pleasure just for him.

and you couldn’t help it; euphoria was pulsing through your body, coating your thoughts in nothing but toji. your toes curled, as toji slid his tongue inside of you. god, he was so messy, your slick already all over his face, his spit mixing with your slick as it trailed down your ass.

you were incessantly moaning, unable to even downplay or disguise it anymore. “s-shit, toji, fuck, that feels so good—!” he looked up at you with satisfaction as he slid his tongue into your entrance, curling it upwards against your walls.

you squealed, trying to scoot backwards away from the pleasure, but he was quick to yank you back, trapping you against his mouth, his hands coming to wrap around your thighs. one of his fingers traced the stretch marks on your thighs. he worked his fat tongue inside of you, curling and sliding as his pointer finger swirled your clit at such a fast pace, you was sure he was gonna give you something close to a rug burn.

his paired actions had you spiraling over the edge, the coil in your stomach stretching and stretching until it was ready to snap. “toji, ‘m close—! fuck, fuck— gonna cum!” toji’s movements became much more insistent, gaining in speed as he basically shoved you over the edge.

your orgasm hit you like a brick, your back arching off the couch as you gripped toji’s hair tightly, whined babbles of repeated words leaving your lips. if it weren’t for toji holding you down and anchoring you, you were sure that you would’ve grown fucking wings and soared away.

you creamed all over his tongue, and he made sure to pull away, before messily spreading it throughout your pussy, just to lap it all up over again, letting you settle, working you through the after effects of your climax.

you sucked in ragged gasps as toji pulled away, licking his lips and wiping his face. he stared at you with such intensity, shivers went down your skin. your eyes immediately focused on his hard dick through his sweats, the outline prominent. you tapped your foot on his thigh. “gimme that,” you breathed.

“do you deserve it?” toji said back, his voice a bit raspy. “been a bratty slut this whole time. you were so cocky, remember? i don’t get you wet, right?”

you wanted to maintain your pride, you really, really did. but desperate times called for desperate measures. “c’mon, toji,” you sighed sultrily, “i was just playin’.. just wanted to make it a little fun for you, you know that..” you spread your legs a little more, teasing him as you continued, “it’s all yours, i swear — been waiting for this for such a long time.”

toji only gave you a soft chuckle and the only words gave you were, “that right, baby?” immediately, he scooped you up with a single arm, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. you let out a noise of surprise, but immediately arched your back, looking back at him as he pushed his sweats down his thighs. his dick sprung up, and you couldn’t say you were shocked by it.

his dick was both fat and long, and it almost made your eyes pop out of your head. he had to be at least eight inches, veins running up the side of his heavy dick. his tip was a dark apricot shade, and it was leaking bad, opaque beads of precum sliding out of his slit. he was well trimmed, with heavy breeder balls. you almost salivated. but at the same time, you questioned how all that was even supposed to fit in you.

he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. “don’t you worry, princess. you’ll take every inch of me.” one of his hands gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks apart as he directed his tip against your entrance, slapping it there a few times, making you groan in need. “t-toji, stop fuckin’ playin—!”

once again, you were rudely interrupted by him pushing the tip inside of you. he let out a hiss, your walls sucking him in. however, with just how wet you were, he slid right back out. he let out a snicker as he leaned his hand down to slap your pussy again. “but you not wet for me, alright..” he lined himself up again, and this time — he didn’t push into you slowly.

with one rough thrust, he filled you to the brim, forcing you forward as you let out a strangled noise, clawing at the couch. “toji! oh fuck..!” you pulled your hips forward, trying to get him to pull out a little, but he wasn’t having it. “s-shit, i’m not even all the way in yet,” he huffed, hair hanging in his eyes. toji was letting out pants, it felt as if your pussy was fucking suffocating his dick, strangling it.

inch by inch, he pushed the rest of his dick in, until the plush of your ass was nestled against his pelvis and stomach. he yanked at his shirt, pulling it off of his body. your slick was already coating him, dripping down to his balls. you were a mess, mewling just from him entering. you felt so full — his dick stuffing you better than you ever had been before. and it was driving you out your mind.

toji didn’t wait for you to adjust. with one hand on your ass, thumb rubbing against the ridges and dimples, and the other lacing through purple hair, toji pulled all the way out, and then slammed all the way back in. the force of his motions shoved you down into the couch, and immediately you let out a cry of, “t-toji! slow down!”

but slowing down wasn’t apart of his agenda. he rasped out, “nah, this is what you wanted, baby. so take it. take my dick like a good fuckin’ girl.” he began snapping his hips into you, the veins on his dick dragging against your walls just right. your cunt clamped down on him every time he tried to pull out, as if it was forcing him to make your cunt his new home.

toji was mesmerized by the way your ass jiggled and clapped with every movement he made, the sound of your skin slapping filling the air. he slapped your ass hard and then squeezed, making you squeal once more. “fuck, look at you. bouncing this ass back on my dick so good..”

at his praise, you looked back at him before proudly twerking back on his dick, putting on a little show. he laughed, his hand trailing from your hair to snake around your throat. “such a fuckin’ slut,” he said gruffly, before pulling his hips back so that only the tip was inside before ramming his dick back inside of you.

you felt him nudge against your cervix, and you let out a noise close to a scream, while his hand tightened around your throat. tears filled your eyes at the pain, your lashes beginning to slide. “you’re gonna wake up the kids, princess. wouldn’t want them to come down to seeing you getting fucked like some whore, right? keep that pretty mouth quiet.” he leaned down, chest pressing against your back as he curled his much larger body against yours. “but not too quiet. wanna hear you lose your fucking brain over this dick.”

his other hand came to wrap around your throat, and he began to jack hammer into you, slamming you on his dick over and over. your eyes rolled back, a mix of pain and pleasure twisting through you, that coil getting ready to snap again. “t-toji…” you slurred out, “g-gonna fuckin’ cum again…!”

“so fucking do it,” toji hissed as your clenching began to get more intense. “paint my shit, baby.” his voice was sending shivers down your spine, aiding your increasing pleasure. you let out ragged moans into the couch as your body trembled, pussy spasming wildly around his dick as you came a second time.

he didn’t slow down through your orgasm, instead, he went faster, if that was even humanly possible. he pressed down on your head, forcing your face into the couch, and pressing on your belly simultaneously. it forced you to have a deeper arch, but it also made you feel just how deep he was inside of you. pressing his big hand against your stomach to feel his bulge had toji grinning.

you were a wreck, tears sliding down your face, your lashes long fallen of. you were pretty sure your lace had peeled, but you didn’t care. you could barely think, barely form coherent sentences with how toji was fucking you. and he knew it. he knew he reduced you to a mess, and he wasn’t even halfway finished with you.

soon, he felt his orgasm coming, and he let out a deep groan. “shit.. where do you want my cum, doll? ‘m getting close..” you were quick to whine out, “i-inside, toji.. want you to cum inside…!”

“haah!” he grunted out with a smirk, “want me to fill you up, huh? want me to stuff you full with my cum? yeah, i bet you fucking do, look at you.”

“toji, toji, toji, fuckkk.. want your babies, c’mon, make me a mama again—!” toji laughed shakily at your dumb response, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “fuck yeah, dollface. you better not spill not one drop, alright?” he let out a strangled moan as he released, his thick cum filling her to the walls.

you sucked in harsh breaths, finally feeling relieved after toji’s constant fucking stopped. he seemed to slow down, gently fucking his load into you. you began to relax… however you were sorely mistaken.

“you thought i was done with you?” toji asked as he gripped you, flipping you over so that he could see your face. you looked a mess, but you were so, so pretty. your eyes were watery, face with tear trails all over. your lips were bruised from how much you’d been biting them. at least your hair was still intact… for now. toji leaned down and pressed a kiss to your jawline, down to your throat. he yanked at the top you wore, and when it didn’t want to cooperate, he ripped it and peeled it off of you himself. “toji, my shirt….” you whimpered but he dismissively waved a hand. “you’ll get one of mine.” he reached behind you, unclipping your bra and letting your tits spring free.

his big hands almost swallowed them as he began to leave bites and kisses all over your throat, collarbone and chest. “can’t possibly be done with you,” he said against your skin, “been waiting to fuck you like this since i laid eyes on you, doll.”

he left a plethora of hickies on your skin, very obviously marking you as his. you were still speared on his dick, and he began to roll his hips languidly inside of you, curving into your g-spot repeatedly. the feeling had you seeing stars as he gripped your legs and pulled them around his waist. with each thrust, he began to get more forceful and speed up, until once more, he was pounding your insides.

your nails went to his back, scratching, making toji wince in pain as his hips collided with yours. three of your nails had broken off. a third time, you felt yourself reach your climax once more, but it felt different. painful almost, with the last your clit throbbed. you managed to push away the toji-shaped clouds in your brain and realized.

“t-toji—! toji, ‘m gonna squirt!” you cried out as you twisted in his hold, the pleasure becoming overwhelming for you. “t-toji—!” he only smirked at you, yanking you closer. “make a mess f’me, mama. wanna see you get all messy… c’mon, c’mon, make that pretty pussy squirt on my dick.” he pressed another messy kiss to your lips as his hand snuck down to rub your clit, forcing more pleasure into your system. you let out a ruined, gasped noise — like you wanted to scream but couldn’t get it out. clear liquid gushed from you, coating toji’s lower half, some of his abdomen and the couch.

you were in too much of a haze to notice that soon after, toji came inside of you a second time. he didn’t pull out at first, instead opting to lay his head against your sweaty skin, pressing kisses. he realized that you would be completely gone for a bit, after that, so he was gentler with you. he pulled out, watching his cum slowly dribble from your hole after the two creampies he gave you. not wanting you to sit in your own fluids, picked you up and brought you to his room, putting you one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers before tucking you in.

he went back downstairs, eyes locked on the mess you made on the couch. a soft whistle escaped as he plucked your lashes off the sofa and put them on the table.

you probably wouldn’t become his girlfriend yet; but you damn for sure weren’t going anywhere now.

[zerobasekazuha]

“Shhh quiet we can’t get caught!”

Pairing: AMAB Venture x Fem reader

Warnings: Oral (fem giving) cursing

Genre: Fluff/Smut

A/N: So I came across this tweet in Twitter from the same user who inspired me to do the pizza person Venture. They have such amazing ideas and y’all should def follow the twitter @/staplesquid thank you for the ideas!!

Who told Sloan that this would be a great idea?Oh right, Y/n did. So how did they get stuck in this situation where they are body to body pressed against their best friend in between a very small alleyway with their hand over her mouth? And to top it off with police who are looking for them. Well it started earlier on that day..

Y/n was an artist. They used many different materials and techniques. Her art style changed ever so often. This point in time it was graffiti. She brought multiple cans in different colors. She researched spots in town and even asked around on online forums and eventually came across the perfect spot. However it was in one of the most crime ridden spots in the city. And with no other choice she contacted Sloan to come with her.

Sloan just finished in the shower their hair was dripping wet as the windows and the mirror was fogged up. They noticed their phone light up, quickly turning down the music they had blasting then right back up to the main volume. It was a text message. They took a quick glance at it only reading the words city and alone.

It alerted them and they quickly picked up their phone trying not to drop it in the toilet as well before opening it and reading over the text. They took a sigh of relief when they read the entire text. Y/n asked if they wanted to go to a certain part of the city together because she didn’t want to go alone. They quickly sent a text saying that they would and they would be finished getting ready.

Y/n told them to wear baggy clothing and that she had a gas mask for them. And soon enough there they were taking the number 67 bus down to the worst part of the city. They looked unsuspecting enough. Two people wearing baggy clothing, one with a larger tote bag and the other carrying yet a smaller one. Both however wearing black masks. Any normal person would think they were a couple. Eventually they got off at a stop down the street from where the location was.

It seemed to be a poverty stricken street. There were deteriorating homes and people sleeping outside. Depressing to look at. The streets were also a mess with all kinds of trash around. Sloane looked at Y/n and wondered why the hell she was bringing them out here. “So…Sketchy part of town…? Going to explain why we’re out here?” They asked not knowing what was even in her tote bag.

“You know how I mentioned I wanted to do something new with my art?” Y/n asked smiling at them. They nodded wondering what point she was getting at. “Well we’re going to do some graffiti.” She said quieter than before. Sloan was completely surprised. They didn’t expect this from her. Especially considering that graffiti was a crime in their city. They continued walking with Y/n with their heart pounding in their chest as it progressively seemed to get darker.

The two ended up at an abandoned subway. Ever since the city built new lines older ones like these got left behind to just deteriorate. Little did they know the cameras were still in tact. Walking past all the other pieces if art Y/n stopped them at a close enough blank canvas. She set down her tote bag and the cans seemed to clatter inside as she opened the zipper.

“Take this.” She tossed Sloan one of the gas masks. Making sure that they changed the masks in the dark so nobody could suspect the two. After she turned on the flashlight. Pointing it at the canvas. “So take a can and go nuts.”

They spent around an hour doing what they could all the different colors and layers. Eventually it was an outstanding piece of art that differed all the others there. While Sloan drew mini stick figures. Sloan stood back to admire the painting of what had been made. “You’re such a great artist! How did you ever think of that!?” Y/n smiled under her mask. “Oh just some inspiration.”

But their time to bask in the art was limited. They could hear police sirens in the background. Then footsteps and the sound of a radio got closer and closer. The two ran off, leaving behind the extra spray cans and the flashlight and only took the empty tote bags with them.

The police chased after the two not too close behind them but not to far as well. Sloan hadn’t felt the first rush of adrenaline in forever. They kept running and running turning corners and going any direction to loose them. Sloan then found an alleyway and pulled Y/n in there with them. Pressing their bodies right next to each other and with them covering her mouth.

And that’s how they got there. The two were slowing their breathing as the police walked down close to where they were. She almost began to panic. Sloan could feel it with how she was beginning to hyperventilate. Sloan leaned down to reach her ear. They whispered in it because the last thing they wanted was a felony for abstracting federal property. “Calm down. Hush be quiet before we get caught.” They said slowly but also almost sweet like honey.

Y/n listened to them fixing her breathing and just resting against them. But feeling how close Y/n was to them was so…addicting to them. Of course she’s sat on their lap before when needed but this was different. This was the worst time to be getting aroused but they almost couldn’t help it. They thought only for a split second how sexy it would be to do what they wanted there while also hiding out away from the police. Public indecency and defacing federal property didn’t sound like two terrible charges to them.

Sloan had to think straight. They shook their head as the gas mask rested against their neck. They must have taken it off when they ran. They were thinking about her, until she seemed to be moving against them. Knocking them out of their slight daydream. The friction Sloan was feeling made them clench their jaw just slightly. “What are you doing?!” They whispered trying not to enjoy how it felt.

“It’s just a tight squeeze. My legs are falling asleep.” She whispered back trying to get comfortable. The police footsteps getting closer. She stopped moving, feeling something rest against her. She looked back at Sloan in the darkness. “Really? Now?” She whispered to them. Sloan blushed trying not to look back at her.

“I can’t help it!” Sloan whispered. They covered her mouth once again as they heard the footsteps get closer. Walking right past them. She squirmed in front of them almost on purpose feeling how much harder them seemed to get. In Sloans mind they could only wonder what she was doing to them? Was this to tease them on purpose?

The police seemed to get only slightly farther before stopping and having a conversation. “Those damn kids. Those little fuckers do this all the time. We ain’t gonna catch one.” Said one of the officers kicking a rock into the distance. “Let’s go back to the station. They need to hurry up and demolish this piece of shit so we don’t have to keep going down here.” The other said. Eventually the footsteps and the radio chatter faded. And now it was only the two of them left.

Y/n managed to turn around to look at them. “Okay their gone we should-“ Sloan kissed her. One hand on her waist and the other on the wall to support them. Y/n was surprised but kissed them back. Once Sloan broke away they looked down at her, loosing all sense of rational thought. “No you don’t get to go just yet.”

“W-what but the cops-“ “I don’t care about the cops they’re gone now. You don’t get to do that and act all innocent.” “Do what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Very clear lie from Y/n. She knew she was lying. Something about seeing their best friend try to hold back from her is arousing to say the least. In her opinion.

“So how about I show you because you don’t know.” Sloan took her hand pressing it to the bulge that seemed to be proud in front of the cargo pants they wore. Y/n looked down at it then back up at them. “So what?” She asked almost hoping they would give her the green light to do something about it.

“Well genius, you dragged me out here, nearly got both of us a felony…a misdemeanor couldn’t hurt.” Y/n looked around it was dark, nobody would catch them but public indecency isn’t just a misdemeanor. “You mean us being put on a list?” “Oh right. Well it won’t happen if we don’t get caught. You just have to stay quiet.”

It didn’t take long for Sloan to kiss her again, this time much more passionate and deeper. Almost like they were yearning for her all this time without saying anything. But there was something else underlying in the kiss. It was hunger. Their hands first rested on her waist, however they could feel hers pulling them closer in the already cramped alleyway.

Sloan wasn’t even sure they could fully go through with anything here but anything is possible. They had to rush however, it was getting darker and darker and they wouldn’t want to miss the last bus that ran in this area. They could feel Y/n wrap her fingers around their belt loops, unbuttoning the front of their cargos and sliding it down their legs. Sloan almost was at a loss for words.

Feeling her hand palming their boxers made them sharply inhale, their head tilting back against the wall. They were too in bliss to realize that instead of her hand they felt her lips around the tip of their cock.

Each second that passed feeling Y/n take more of them down her throat, the saliva running down the side of her mouth as she looked up at them in the darkness. Sloan grabbed the top of her head squeezing her hair feeling each movement of her tongue on them.

Sloan bit their lip to prevent themselves from moaning. They didn’t want to make more noise than they were supposed to. They took sharp breath before looking down at her, their eyes almost showing how desperate they were. With each moment that passed the closer they got to their release. Almost like it was within grasp.

“Oh please I-I’m going to-“ Y/n pulled back using her hands as she heard Sloan. They couldn’t stop themselves as they came on her hands. They tried to catch their breath as she looked at the mess on her hands.

“So uh…again at my place?” Sloan asked as they walked out the abandoned station together, going back to the bus stop to wait for the next bus. “I don’t see why not.” She added smiling at them before the bus pulled up.

This came out extremely late but I had severe writers block and I had to use that time to do other hobbies. But it’s here like I said it would be!!

[suplicyy]

"Wanna be your muse..."

Artist!Reader x Karasuno [Part 1]

Summary — He discover by chance that you love drawing him, maybe even too much...

Characters — Hinata, Kageyama, Yamaguchi, Tsukishima and Nishinoya.

— Fluff

— Gn! Reader

You've been together for a month now, and him going to your house and vice versa was starting to become a routine. That day, he was the one who went to your house to spend the afternoon.

You were in your room watching a series, when you said you were going to the bathroom and left the room, leaving him alone there. While you were gone, he watched your room, looking at some posters on the wall, books on the shelf, a notebook open on his desk... – a notebook? - he thought. You usually left your desk tidy, so it was rare to have anything "dropped" on it.

He knew it wasn't good to see your things without permission, especially when you weren't there to let him or not, but he thought about taking the notebook and putting it on the shelf with the others. So when he went towards your desk to get the notebook, he didn't expect to see some drawings of him.

Hinata Shoyo

When the boy saw that you drew him, he was SO happy. But at the same time he was also a little embarrassed, because it would never have crossed his mind that you liked drawing him.

And the moment you got back to your room, he almost had a heart attack at that time, not knowing what to say to you.

Do you remember that moment in the first episodes of the season 1, when Hinata was nervous for the match against Seijou?So...that's exactly how he was now.

He kept apologizing a million for having seen your notebook without your permission, please make sure everything is ok otherwise he will faint...

After he calmed down a little, he told you how much he loved your drawings, he thought they were so beautiful!

And after that, whenever he saw you drawing he would stop to watch you and praise anything you were drawing, even if it was just a simple sketch.

Kageyama Tobio

He was so confused.

"Why did you draw him?" "How do you draw so well?" "What do you see in him that you have so many drawings of him like that?" "Why was there a drawing of him as a prince holding you in his arms?"

There were many unanswered questions...

The first thing you saw when you returned to your room was a rosy-cheeked Kageyama staring frighteningly at your notebook.

He even tried to thank you for drawing him, or praise your drawings, but the moment the words left his mouth they were all confusing.

But somehow you understood what he was trying to say, and placed a small kiss on his cheek, which was now redder than ever.

Now whenever you draw, he takes a little peek at what you're doing, secretly wishing that he was the one you were drawing.

Tsukishima Kei

...What?

It was the only thing he could think of at the time.

He watched the drawings you made of him until you returned to the room.

You better be prepared, because Tsukishima was going to tease you about this until the end of the day...

But don't let his exterior fool you, because it may not seem like it, but he was very shy when he saw them.

What affected him the most was the way you drew him – he in person didn't look as pretty as in the drawing – that's what he thought.

So if you drew him that way was it because you saw him that way? That certainly stayed on his mind for a few days.

And from that moment on, whenever he saw you with your notebook he would ask if you were drawing him, with the aim of teasing you.

But if you answered yes, that you are really drawing him, Kei would just stay silent next to you, watching you.

Yamaguchi Tadashi

Poor guy, someone help him.

He would be totally shy about this.

Yamaguchi was always a boy who didn't feel so confident about his appearance, so when he saw the way you drew him, he was thrilled.

But after observing them a little longer, he was happy to know that you like making drawings of him. And just thinking about the work you had to do all that thinking about him, his heart warmed with affection for you.

If you sometime have an art block, he would send you several inspirations he found on Pinterest, because he knows you feel sad whenever you can't draw anything.

And no matter how many times this has happened, Tadashi will always be a little shy when he sees that you are drawing him or for him.

Nishinoya Yuu

Someone hold this boy please, because I'm sure the moment he saw you, he would throw himself at you and hug you.

And he probably won't let you go until you threaten to throw your slipper at his head.

That was certainly the best day of his life.

What do you mean the person he likes most in this world drew him?? He was delighted, to say the least.

Nishinoya would always give you crazy suggestions for you to draw, like him fighting a crocodile and with several explosions in the background.

And of course he would always show your drawings that you made of him to all his friends, telling everyone to feel jealous because he have an incredible partner who draws him so well.

A/N — I decided to separate this one into two parts, otherwise I think it would be too long and it would take longer for me to post..😭😭

— Read part 2 [here] !

[cigsaftersuh]

ㅡ living love letter.

🌹 a lee taeyong fic <3

୨ taeyong getting your doodles inked onto his skin ୧

taeyong loved being your canvas.

it started with small, lazy sketches on his arms and hands whenever you were curled up together on quiet afternoons. a smiley face here, a dainty flower there — simple little doodles drawn while you two watched movies or listened to music.

taeyong would hum along softly, letting you guide the tip of the pen or marker with care, never once pulling away.

"you trust me too much," you teased, adding swirls or stars across his wrist.

taeyong smiled, eyes fond and warm. "your art belongs on me."

what you didn’t realize back then was that he’d make those scribbles permanent.

the first one came after a particularly quiet sunday, the kind where the sunlight melted across the floor and time didn’t seem to matter. you’d drawn a tiny daisy on his wrist—crooked petals, uneven lines, but charming nonetheless.

"it’s just a doodle," you teased when he kissed it later that evening.

a week later, he showed up at your door with it tattooed in the exact same spot.

"taeyong, what-"

"i wanted to keep it," he said simply, rolling up his sleeve so you could see. the tattoo artist had copied it perfectly; every ‘flaw,’ every wobbly petal.

"it’s yours, so it’s mine now. forever."

you didn’t know what to say, just smiled at him like he’d hung the stars himself.

the second one came on his shoulder.

it had been raining all day, and you were both curled up under blankets, passing a marker back and forth as you traced lines up his arm. "let’s do something bigger," you murmured, biting your lip as you drew a little galaxy, making sure to include stars, swirls, and even a small crescent moon.

"why space?" he asked, eyes half-lidded as he leaned into you.

"because you’re my universe," you replied softly, trying not to sound too cheesy.

taeyong didn’t reply, he just smiled, tucking his face against your shoulder.

two weeks later, the galaxy was there to stay

you ran your fingers over it when he showed you, your voice caught in your throat.

“you really don’t hesitate, do you?”

"not when it comes to you," he whispered back.

the third one was a little heart on his ring finger.

it wasn’t planned at all. you’d drawn it in passing while you two were waiting for food at a small diner — “your spot.”

"to match your heart," you said, grinning like it was nothing.

taeyong didn’t tell you until months later that he’d gone to get it tattooed that very same week.

"wait, when did this happen?" you laughed, holding his hand between yours to look closer.

"it’s tiny, but it’s there," he said with a proud grin. "like you. always with me."

you didn’t know how to respond except to kiss him, your laughter tangled with his lips.

the most recent one took you by surprise.

"close your eyes," taeyong said one evening, his voice full of that familiar excitement that meant he was up to something.

"why?" you asked, suspicious but still smiling.

"just trust me."

when you opened them, taeyong was rolling up his shirt sleeve to reveal a new tattoo — a delicate outline of your handwriting, right along the inside of his forearm.

you stared, mouth open. "is that..?"

"your i love you,” he finished for you, the corners of his lips curling. "the one you wrote on my arm last week."

you remembered it — just a small moment, an afterthought as you’d scribbled the words there absentmindedly. but now, seeing it permanently etched into his skin, your chest felt impossibly full.

"taeyong," you whispered, tracing the ink gently.

he smiled at you, eyes soft. "you always say it’s just doodles, but they mean everything to me."

you didn’t know what you’d done to deserve someone like him, someone who could take the smallest things you gave him and turn them into treasures.

“you’re the most precious thing that’s ever happened to me," you murmured, pressing a kiss to his forearm where the ink rested, still looking fresh.

"i’m all yours," he replied simply, his hand finding yours.

and when you looked at the collection of little tattoos across his skin — your daisy, your galaxy, your heart — you realized taeyong had turned himself into a living love letter.

the ink might have stayed, but so did he.

with love,

© cigsaftersuh

[yiiyiiwrites]

🏹 | The Hunt |

Eris Vanserra x shifter/spring court reader(Tamlin’s cousin). [Acotar masterlist]

Summary: unable to turn down Beron’s invitation and the equinox hunt, you have to mind where you tread in the autumn court. The scheming Vanserra brothers and the hunt where you could so easily become the hunted if you were to shift. (like Tamlin and the rest of his bloodline, you can shift into an animal). 3920 words

Brothers oldest to youngest: Eris, Theadon, Marcellus, Theron, Sandros †, Deimos † and Lucien. (Not edited).

The autumn equinox used to be one of your favourite celebrations as a child, but as you grew up, it became woven with politics. It had been a week since the fireworks, smoke still hung in the air, curling around the low branches of trees and around your ankles as your leather boots sunk into the mud.

The high lord, Beron had extended an invitation for the hunt. A tradition for nobles and every other sucker who tried to sweeten the Vanserra’s and their court. You however, were not so lucky. Forced to join the men and buff away any conflict before it got worse.

With the past fifty so years under the mountain and the aftermath of Aramantha’s reign, this would be the first of many hunts going forward now that the courts were finding a bit of normalcy.

“You cannot be serious,” you snarled, crossing your arms over your chest and balling your fists out of sight under your elbows.

The thick bodice and riding jacket drew a quick breath from you as you fought to exhale a deep sigh. It had been decades since your last hunt in autumn, your hips a little wider and your breasts fuller. You’d binded your stomach and chest, trying to fit into the traditional garments Beron had gifted you when you were much younger.

Theadon Vanserra’s golden eyes flitted to your chest, smirk tugging his thin lips. “Never complained before,” he said, shoving his hands in a pair of soft brown leather gloves. The second son of autumn, a few years younger than Eris.

He huffed, blowing the curl of ginger hair back out of his eyes. His beauty well crafted as if an artist had took centuries to carve the sharp lines of his straight pointed nose and high cheek bones out of marble. You couldn’t help but let your gaze wander whenever you found yourself in his company. Theadon lapping it up, flirting back with you and trying to inch over the boundaries you’d set with him.

“Can always ride with me, pet.”

The chestnut horse behind you nudged you between your shoulder blades with its muzzle and you stumbled forwards, whirling around and jabbing a pointed finger to the next Vanserra brother.

“You know you’re much more likeable when you don’t speak, Marcellus,” you snapped at the third Vanserra brother. The fiery red hair duller, blonder than the rest of his siblings.

Marcellus didn’t pay you much mind, snorting at your half ass reply and pulling the reigns beside him. The horses long glossy tail flicking you in the face as it circled back to the front of line with his father.

Theadon was a tease and you frequently played into it, using his advances to gain the attention of one particular Vanserra. Marcellus though all talk, nasty venomous tongue, but never did anything to physically harm you.

The seven brothers seemed to be dropping like flies, the middle one leaping from his saddle and blocking your path to Theadon and his sandy stead.

“How about you shift and we’ll chase you, pet.” Theron, named after the hunter of autumn and the meanest of the pack. “So get your ass on that horse and don’t complain again.” He shoved you aside, hand grasping the back of your neck as he guided you back to Theadon.

Theron Vanserra, middle child that went to extremes to gain a scrap of attention from his father. You were yet to see a kind side to him, even when you grew up in their court and ran around with them as kids.

Ever since his twins Sandros mysterious death, Theron made it his mission to make your visits as short as possible. You’d happily let him run you out of autumn if wasn’t for the eldest Vanserra keeping you there.

“Brother, she’s a lady not a pup,” Theadon chuckled, his forced laugh cut short as Theron shoved you towards the horse. He placed his gloved hands on your hips and lifted you over the horse, your fingers wrapping around the reigns trying to pull yourself up. You don’t need to summon any strength though as Theadon pushed against the back of your thighs to help you swing a leg over onto the saddle. Your boot brushed the steads sandy coat, a line of dirt left in its wake.

You don’t bother snapping at him, Theadon a lesser evil when it came to the brothers of the hunt. Eris hadn’t participated in years since he’d become General and took on more responsibilities.

“Mutt maybe,” Theron mumbled, scratching the stubble on his jaw. The leather hunting gear he wore, scratched and worn as if it were his way of showing off his skills and power.

You wished you knew the person responsible for his crooked nose, only to thank them for breaking it.

Theadon grabbed your wrist before you could even curl your fingers and swipe a punch, your arm pinned by your side as you glared down at it. You’d been too consumed with rage that you hadn’t noticed him climb on the saddle behind you, his warmth pressing against your back.

“Comfortable?” Theadon murmured, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. He wasn’t asking though, just trying to distract you from tumbling down and going for his younger brother. Not that he’d let go of you.

He shifted sinking closer to you, back of your head knocking his firm chest. His knuckles swiped the braid down your back and he draped it over your shoulder, giving it a little tug. You couldn’t relax though with Theron snapping at you, every bone in your body rigid and your spine upright ready to defend or attack.

Theron’s face was always twisted with disgust whenever his gaze caught you, like he’d been chewing on a wasp. You still couldn’t believe that Theron and Marcellus had married noble fae. He took one more glance at you and spat on the ground, hoisting the bow and arrow back over his shoulder as he walked to his horse. A grumble echoing away with him.

Fae females were not allowed to ride alone during the hunting parties, an escort always needed. Which is why you found yourself like every other solstice hunt with Theadon whispering in your ear, one hand on your stomach to keep you from sliding away and his other on the reigns as the horse galloped through the rough terrain.

The rising sun broke through the tight knitted trees, sending golden rays over the red rolling hills of autumn in the distance. You squinted, hoping the light would blind the hunters and allow the animals to escape before they met the sharp tip of an arrow or canines of the dogs scrambling near the pounding hooves.

“Must be cold when you hop in and out spring and summer, much like my brother’s beds.” Theadon doesn’t bother keeping his voice low, deep sigh fanning the crown of your head.

“Not your bed though,” you said, wincing as his fingers dug into your stomach. You thanked the gods that you’d chosen thickest bodice, bronze embroidery adding more armour to protect. His warning enough for you to stop before you said too much.

Theadon hummed, pulling the reigns tighter in his other hand and rested it on your thigh. “I do wonder…” he mused, “does Eris know how easy it is for you to lay with another.”

Rumours had followed you ever since you were dumped in the autumn court. A fae of spring raised to act as a bridge between the two courts and smooth out any grievances. And with that task came a lot of talk. How you’d worked your way through the brothers and chased the youngest back to spring. You’d never revealed the truth, the only one that mattered was him and he knew you.

A chorus of howls tore through the forest, horses stomping to a halt as if they all stopped to listen to your reply.

The men ahead were searching beyond, a lone hound escaping the undergrowth of a thorny hedge with a brown fox between its teeth.

You looked away, but Theadon grabbed your chin and forced you to watch the snapping of its neck.

“Is that what you look like as a pretty little fox?” He asked, hand trailing down the column of your throat. “I remember you shifting as a child, just a pup.”

Hunting was the one thing you hated, autumns plea of killing all the runts of their animals. The odd brown foxes that were deemed unworthy compared to the fiery orange coated ones they trained as messengers. The one form you’d taken on, but you were able to blend into whatever court you were in. A fluffy white coat for winter, orange for autumn and silver for spring.

You’d only shifted once in autumn and vowed never to again. Theron and Sandros had chased you through the forest, straight into a badgers home. You still had the scars from their claws on your back as you tried to dig your way out.

“Maybe I’ll shift and rip your throat out. I’m sure you’d like that,” you said leaning your head on his chest and peering up at him. The deep line between his brows softened, lips curving into a smirk.

“Mmm tempting, maybe you can shift some of these layers off later for me?” He whispered, gaze dropping from your lips to your breasts.

Smooth, too damn smooth. You couldn’t help but laugh at him, the way he easily fell back into flirting. “In your dreams Vanserra,” you said, scanning the forest and soon regretting it as your gaze found Theron’s.

The smile dropped from your face as his horse trotted back to the line near you. There was an overall darkness to the middle brother, cherry red locks cut short so it never got in his way. Eyes of bronze that darkened as soon as they narrowed at you. Brawn and brain, even if he played into the brawn more. Everything he did calculated, you couldn’t help but think he’d been plotting your downfall ever since you first stepped into autumn as a child.

“The things you do in my dreams,” Theadon whispered, but before he could divulge all the dirty details a force barrelled into his horse.

The hold around your waist fell away, your body slamming to ground. Pounding of hooves shook the roots beneath the earth and you curled into yourself hoping you wouldn’t get trampled on. Voices boomed in the distance, hounds barking and teeth snapping, but you couldn’t peel your hands away from your face.

Muffled sounds filtered through the shield you’d created around you, your foxes senses picking up the crack of broken twigs at your back. You inhaled, trembling breath trying to push back, there was no way you’d shift. Not in autumn.

Something hard hit your elbow and you lowered your arm, peeking over at Theron. You just wanted to burrow into the ground and be rid of the bastard. He nudged you again, thick mud staining your dress as his boot met your knee.

“Up you get, pet,” he said through gritted teeth, “follow me or don’t follow me, I don’t care. Just keep up.” He didn’t spare another glance at you, his figure halfway up the sloping path by the time you’d stood.

The early morning fog long gone, your surroundings crisp and clear of anyone but him. Even the wind did not carry the yells of the hunting party or the sounds of their movements. The forest too quiet for your liking.

You trudged after Theron, glaring at his back.

“Watch where you’re going,” he called over his shoulder as he side stepped a foxes hole. A hare dove into the bushes at his booming voice, browning leaves showering the earth in its wake.

A whip of wind pushed you forwards, your legs like jelly as you tried to keep your balance. The heel of your boot on the edge of a large hole of a fallen trees ripped roots.

You trailed after Theron, climbing atop the fallen tree and walking across the stream. The trunk slick with moss, slippery beneath you that you didn’t bother lifting your feet but sliding them along. You clutched your skirt, balling it up in your fist as you thought out the best path that didn’t lead to the icy water below.

“Maybe if you watched where you were going earlier, we wouldn’t be trekking through the sodding woods,” you snapped, jumping down to the other side of the stream.

Of course Theadon would hang back and look after the horse, he’d be guaranteed another stead to get back to the castle on. You on the other hand were being led gods knows where into the golden forest of autumn with someone who wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire.

The hunter, bully. Just like his father, you dread the day if Theron ever became high lord. He didn’t bother acknowledging your words or your presence, his fists clenched by his side as he zigzagged the makeshift path. Horses hooves leading him back the way you’d come that morning.

You scrambled up the muddy terrain, nails scraping against the branch you used as leverage to hoist yourself over. The mist of rain weighing down your riding jacket, another shackle to keep you down in the court.

The howling wind tore through your hair, the woven braid over your shoulder coming undone. Stray strands sticking to your neck and shielding your sight.

You felt the snap before you saw it, iron teeth sinking into the flesh of your ankle. The tears rolling down your cheeks burnt, voice hoarse as you screamed once again.

"I told you to watch where you're going," Theron snarled, crouching down beside you and taking the curved side of the iron trap in each hand.

“Get it over with,” you snarled, regretting the rise of your voice as you moved in anger and felt the searing pain shoot up your leg.

Theron paused, fingers slipping from the trap. “Why don’t you shift? Sure you’ll be able to get out of that one yourself. It will make for good entertainment at least,” he said, his knuckles brushing against your jawline.

Against your better judgement, you spat in his face. Your saliva rolling down his freckled cheek, he froze. His nostrils flaring, body trembling with what you could assume as a blinding rage. He lifted a curled fist and drew his arm back, flames spreading across his knuckles.

You clamped your eyes shut, felt the heat crashing forwards, but nothing came. A chorus of whimpers in your left ear made you dare to peak in front of you.

Three hounds, one by your side sitting patiently for you to greet them. Another sniffing the edge of the iron trap. The last growling at Theron, hair raised on its back as it forced him to walk back.

“Like calls to like,” Theron spat.

You didn’t know if it was the loss of blood or the eldest Vanserra, but as he appeared through the trees your head become heavy. Heartbeat drumming against your chest.

“Mother’s looking for you,” Eris said, head nodding to the pathway behind him.

Walking painstakingly slow, you tracked his smooth movements as he made his way to you. Eris dropped to his knees, lightly pushing the hounds nose away from the trap. He rubbed his jaw, amber eyes flitting from your ankle to your face.

“Do you ever do as you’re told,” he said, prying the iron teeth apart. The lock clicked back into place and his hand cupped the back of your calf as he moved it away from the trap.

“Tell me what to do, I might just do it just for you.”

He shook his head and lifted you into his arms. Warmth spread as you laid your head on his shoulder and draped your arms around his neck. His hounds scouted off ahead, running as quick as shadows that you couldn’t keep up with them.

You slid your palm from the back of his neck and rested it on his chest. His heart beating too slow and repetitive compared to your erratic one. You’d blame it on the wound if he dared to bring it up.

“Where are you taking me, General?” You asked as the trees gave way to golden hills in the distance, a few wooden huts dotted the perimeter.

“The barracks, so keep your mouth shut,” Eris whispered, lips pursed and head held high as he walked through the checkpoint.

Suits of bronze and red parted for Eris, heads lowering in respect and they did not rise till his back faced them. You watched his unit scurry around, your chin propped on top of his shoulder. Foxes weaved through the soldiers boots, bound letters attached to their back.

You’d never been to the outer edge of the generals quarter. Ladies stayed within the centre of the court and were normally accompanied by a chaperone if outside. You however, knew the secret passageways in the castle and ancient crumbling pathways that were rarely used.

Eris’s grip tightened on you, his gaze flitting to the two guards stationed either side of the largest wooden cabin you’d ever seen in autumn. They parted, gloved hands pulling the oak doors open so that the General could enter. Gaze fixed ahead, Eris walked through the narrow corridor to the left.

Lanterns flickered, flames roaring to life as if the General had summoned them himself. The terracotta tiles on the floor were so clean you could see waxy shine coating it and the reflection of his flames dancing between each square.

The last door opened and closed as Eris walked in, large table dominating the room. A map covering up most of it, but it curled up as soon as your gaze wandered the red ink painting the Autumn court. Eris sat you atop a desk, inks and parchment neatly placed to one side.

You shrugged off your riding jacket and let it fall behind you, gaze following Eris whose back faced you. He pulled open some drawers, glasses clinking together in one hand and rags in another. Placing your palms on the desk, you leant back as he walked back to you, brows furrowed as he stared at your boot. He shoved a bottle of green liquid into your hand, head jerking for to drink up.

Popping the cork off you gagged at the stench, but tipped the bottle back and drank the lot. The thickness of the potion coated the back of your throat and you coughed, fist colliding with your chest as you tried to rid yourself of the burnt taste lingering. The ringing in your ears disappeared, vision clearing the haze away.

"It must be bad," he mumbled as he crouched down, fingers untying the knot from your laces. "Not even one word." A smile tugged the corner of his lips, his amber eyes flicking back to yours.

"You told me to keep my mouth shut," you said, brushing the hair out of his face and back over his shoulder. Your breaths quick and heavy, the damned corset cutting into your ribcage. Not at all anything to do with the General on his knees before you making light work of pulling the laces out of your boot.

"So you do, do as you're told."

The banter more to distract you, the iron still swimming around your blood from the trap. You wouldn't lie, it felt like your ankle had been ripped off, never mind torn apart from a hunters trap.

"Like I said, only for you," you said through gritted teeth, Eris's fingers and palm were coated red, boot discarded to one side. You tugged the bow at the centre of your corset and pulled the ribbon free, allowing yourself the room to draw a deeper breath.

Eris raised a brow, but didn't ask what you were doing, only rolled your sock down your ankle slowly leaving it halfway on your foot.

You fanned your face with your hand, a bead of sweat rolling down your chest. "God's it's so hot in here, are you hot?" The iron making you a crumbling mess in front of him.

"You know I'm hot," he said without a missing a beat, he swiped a cold paste on the wound, touch soft and precise. Always so careful when it came to you, just not with words.

"God's this barbaric court, hunting down an animal all because it's not deemed good enough. Why couldn't I get a beast like Tam? I'd happily hunt those...Do you know who broke Theron's nose?" You rambled on, word after word tumbling out before you could stop. Eris's laugh shutting you up, his broad shoulders shaking as his hands hovered a safe distance from your wound.

He leant his elbow on his thigh and his head arched to peer up at you, amber eyes flickering like the flames. "You do realise who you're complaining to?" Eris asked, his attention returning to the cloth in his hand. He wiped the blood from your ankle, wrapping a strip of gauze around the wound and tying it in place.

"I'm just," you said, pausing as he rose to stand. Your gaze trailing his chest and the thick column of his throat. "Just thinking if you're next in line..." you whispered as he leant down, forcing you to topple back, but his palm found the small of your back keeping you in place.

You couldn't blame the corset for the tremor in your breath, heat spreading the expanse of your back beneath his touch. Eris's copper hair fell from his shoulder shielding you from the light, gliding against the bare scrap of skin on your chest. His other hand slid up your thigh slow, but he did not break away from your gaze.

"I broke it," Eris said, nose nudging yours.

"Thank you," you said, you grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and you pressed your lips to his.

Eris retreated from you, hand slipping away from your back. "You want to know why?" He asked, finger hooking under you chin and making your gaze connect with his once again.

The back of his hand traced your cheek and jaw, you closed your eyes melting into his touch. you nodded, humming for him to continue.

"Because he hunted you when you shifted."

You eyes shot open. You hadn't told anyone that story, not even your parents. Eris must have heard his brothers bragging about it back then, as he'd turned up at your bedroom that night and helped you tend to the cuts on your back. He'd held your hand, let you sob in his arms as the cleaning balm set into the wounds. Never asked you asked any questions, his silent presence soothing enough.

"They try to make out that you're as delicate as a flower in spring, but you're as strong as the thorns guarding your borders. I see you," he said, framing your face in his hands. "The way you dance between courts, use those pretty words to escape much worse and how you do it all on your own."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you managed to whisper, tears threatening to spill over your lashes.

"No pretty words for me?" He asked, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"Kiss me."

Wrote this whilst I was sick so might be some errors etc. but I always wanted to write some of the other Vanserra brothers and I originally wrote another Eris fic and this is like a spin off from that. Hope you like :)

[honeyywoods]

“Y’ever heard of pirate glass?” Jack asked out of the blue, his drawing hand stilling as he set his charcoal down. Davey raised a curious brow, and thoughtlessly tilted the angle of his head as he did so. This drew a ‘tsk’ from Jack - ever the artist - and Davey rolled his eyes fondly before returning to his original position. “No,” Davey responded, watching with surprise as Jack retrieved his pastels. This was an exceedingly rare thing, Davey knew; Jack’s sketches were almost always exclusively charcoal. Nothing more than smudges of black on white, and yet so much more. Jack breathed such life into his drawings that they hardly needed color.

And yet.

Davey watched from the corner of his eye as Jack rifles through the box, pulling out several colors that he can’t quite see. “Why do you ask?” Davey inquired, his voice sounding strangely in the New York night. Even with the bustle of the city, the two of them seemed to be in another world where the only sound was the clattering of chalk.

Jack hummed as he shifted back, pastels in hand. “‘S neat stuff.” He said simply, starting in with one of the pastels - a pitch-dark shade, Davey could now tell. “When you look at it in the dark, or in most light, it looks just plain black or brown.” Jack continued, his hand making delicate, meticulous swipes across the paper. “Guess them pirates thought it helped keep the sun out o’ their booze or somethin’.” A chuckle, and when Davey looked over there was a sort of half-smile on Jack’s face, though his eyes were still trained on his drawing.

“But, if you get it in the right light, it’s anythin’ but plain. The color shines through.” Jack held up a bright spring green, something soft in his eyes that Davey couldn’t quite place. “Like a gemstone, y’know? Real pretty.” With that, Jack returned to the drawing, and the pair lapsed into quiet.

Chalk scratching paper, Jack’s soft, even breathing. Davey could stand to stay like this forever.

Davey isn’t sure how much time passed just like that, but eventually Jack stood up, tipped the chalk dust off of the drawing, and lingered awkwardly in his spot for a moment. A hand brushing over his braids, Jack turned his sketchbook around and extended it to Davey.

Oh. Oh.

Staring back at Davey was his own face - his own eyes. Davey was no art critic, but it was obvious that Jack had made the eyes the focal point. His eyes. They were bright golden-green, like new spring growth, with dark around the edges.

Davey knew that it shouldn’t have been so special. He saw his eyes regularly in the small mirror kept next to the bathtub, after all. But Jack had made them look…different. As though the lights of the city had turned them into something else entirely.

Pirate glass.

What a funny thing indeed. Such a fitting concept for Jack, who seemed to know everything about the seemingly most unusual matters. Davey was forced to wonder where Jack had learned of it - perhaps it was just another case of ‘improving the truth.’

Regardless, there was something to be said about Jack using such a comparison to communicate his thoughts about Davey’s eyes.

Real pretty played back in his head, and suddenly everything clicked neatly into place.

And even if pirate glass was just a Jack Kelly-certified method of skirting around the truth, Davey could think of worse ways to find out.

[yo-yo-yeonkai]

CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR - CHOI YEONJUN - NSFW

Yeonjun x fem!reader

Genre: Smut

Warning list: Dom!Yeonjun x Brat!AFAB, reader, insecure reader for a second, shower sex, mild size mention, fingering (f!receiving), marking, scratching, chocking, degradation; (slut), pet names; (love), have to stay quiet, private in public- does that make sense?

Word count: 3,500

Summary: Lucky you got to be a back up dancer for your best friends k pop group, and your crush also happens to be in the group. Teasing him couldn’t end badly could it?

This is my drabble for @majestyjun ‘s Yeonjun birthday event! I hope you all like it and give all the artists involved support <3

Rushed hands wrapped around your wrist, yanking you harshly into the boys showering room. But their rough dragging didn't stop there, you were then pushed into a showering cubicle, the sound of the lock turning soon after.

Was this... the consequences of your own actions?

You knew you shouldn't tease Yeonjun, but you just couldn't help it. It was far too much fun to pass up, even with the rest of your dance team and txt in the room...

The one who had pulled you out of the corridor, slowly spun his head to meet your gaze. Red hot rage shot through his usually soft brown eyes, straight into your head. His voice wasn't much different to the emotion that showed in his stare. "Do you think that's funny", he mutters, voice low and grumbly, almost like he's holding back the words that he wants to say.

Like frightened prey, when cornered by its predator, you take a step further away from him. But just like the predator, he takes a step closer to you, not letting the chance of intimidation slip through his grasp.

"Answer me!" he demands, like a king that's used to having every last order he makes fulfilled with a click of his long fingers.

Any chance at escape is quickly limited by the slam of his hand conjoining with the wall next to your head. Dominance seeped from ever action he made, whether it be big or small. Embarrassingly, a small yelp travelled out of your mouth at the action, your mind running at 100mph just to figure out how you got yourself in this position.

He seemed to desire the honest truth, so that is exactly what you must give him. The king's orders may never be disobeyed after all. Finally, some words slipped from your lips, in a quiet mumble "Yes, I find it funny".

Body shaking slightly with a chuckle, his handsome face drew closer to yours. Your bodies pressed against each other in a warm heat, a feeling you never knew you needed until now. Every curve of your bodies slipped against each other like an irregular, but beautiful puzzle. Almost as if the cuts in the pieces weren't straight but fit together none the less.

Flicking your wandering eyes back to his, you noticed that the rage that burned within them was replaced by something else. Deep, dark lust pooled in his eyes like a desperate starved monster.

Controlling meanings slipped through his words as he spoke, "Well, it's not! You do not get to tease me like that, in front of everyone. Is that understood?”

A teasing, slow hand slid its way onto your waist, grabbing onto you, like a claim to victory. The motion made you feel weak already, you were never great with soft physical touch. The slow drag of his fingertips against your soft skin made goosebumps rake along your skin, a tell-tale sign that you were sensitive to that sort of attention.

Your voice kept to its same nervous mumble as you responded "Understood". The word was simple, but that's all he wished to hear from you, the clear acceptance to his dominating demands.

His chest shook once again, a raw chuckle slipping through his sweet, plump lips. Faces growing closer together, his breath fanned over your face, the distance between your lips slowly diminishing.

Sudden waves of realisation at the current situation washed through you, like cold water shocking your system. "Ummm Yeonjun.." you whispered, the sound coming out like a soft whisper of wind, despite it being the start of a storm.

Swarming eyes flicked away from the stare they had on your lips, up to your eyes. His head shook lightly, gaining control of his emotions for an honest second. “This is your chance (Y/N). Tell me yes or no now. Cause you know I am going to fuck you if you don't tell me no." he ordered, fingers running against your chin and gripping it gently.

His desires had been perfectly set out for you in a display window, now you just had to make a choice. But just as his desires were obvious, yours ran like a clear river through your mind, paving a path for the dirty thoughts to flow.

In a swift attempt to gain dominance over the situation, you leant forward and pushed him up against the opposite wall to the one you had just been trapped against. Feet stood in tiptoes, desperately reaching up to kiss him.

Your lips joined together in a heated, impatient kiss. Perfection was laced through every move of his soft lips against yours, a calculated pursuit of pleasure. Slick wetness prodded its way into your mouth, his tongue tangling with your own. The fight for control was soon over and every move he made would determine what you would do next. He had full control over you, like a puppet. Would you let him use you? Maybe after a small fight...

Hands that were once holding tightly onto your waist, pushed you off him, the distance becoming evidently clear in the rush of cold against your skin. Sharp eyes looked down at you, then drifted to the shower at your side. A sly smirk dawned upon his lips, like he had just had the best idea of his lifetime. You weren't exactly an innocent girl; you could tell what he was thinking.

The quick, hard order met your ears "Strip", he didn't say it like a question, or an offer. It was a command he spoke, a must, and God only knows what happens to those that dare disobey his highnesses orders.

Fear of retribution didn't stop your mind from spinning into a frantic panic at the thought of removing your clothes. The approaching insecurity you held deep within you begun to creep out like a deadly virus, poisoning you and spoiling your thoughts.

The deep chuckle of his voice sounded to your ears, pausing your worry for a split second as he spoke “Don't get shy now Love. You weren't shy earlier. See, l'lI show you how to do it".

Fingers gripped onto the bottom of his shirt, skilfully pulling it over his head. Every curve, dip and lift of his defined chest and arms were now on display for your hungry eyes to feast upon. Unholy desire, to run your fingers along him, spun your head away from your insecurities and towards the goal at hand.

Your own fingers pulled at your top, throwing it to the corner of the cubicle, your shorts following suit. Patience was strung like a thin, flimsy wire, and the second he took off his shirt the wire snapped, freeing you of any control you once had over yourself. Your underwear remained on your body, not wanting to show him anymore, unless he would equal out the playing field.

Putting on a show his hands ran down his chest, over every part of him you wanted to touch, right to the very edge of his shorts. A stray finger slipped under the band and pulled it down far too slowly for your thirsty mind. The show was coming to a quick close as he noticed your impatience and pulled them down his legs, disregarding them where your own clothes had begun to pile.

You practically threw yourself at him as soon as he was leant against the wall again. Lips joined together in a hungry kiss, hands roaming each other's bodies and the remainder of your clothes were quickly shimmied and thrown off yourselves.

Desperation was clouding you both like a thick aura, and you knew you didn't have enough time to take this slow, you needed to get on with this soon or the rest of the dance team would figure out where you'd gone.

A stray finger ran down your slit causing you to shiver at the surprising feeling. When did his hand get down there? You have no clue. Do you mind? Not one bit.

"God you are so fucking wet" he groans, desire to have his cock shrouded in the feeling of your wetness evident in the whine of his tone. Even guys like Yeonjun start whining when it comes down to it. How well can he keep his composure? You'll find out.

The finger dipped into your entrance, giving you all the attention you needed. The finger was slow, teasing for a bit, but it quickly became faster, harder. Before long, there was another finger in you, fucking your insides and getting you ready for Yeonjun's cock.

He knew what he was doing, every curl and plunge of his fingers told you that much. Whether he had done this before was a mystery, but it's not like you were innocent either. Is it bad that you hoped he hadn't done it before, that's selfish isn't it?

He moved his spare hand up to one of your tits and he rolled and played with your nipple until he got a reaction out of you that he liked, one that told him he was touching you right. With the lustful mix of his fingers thrusting into you and your nipple being played with you were moaning like your life depended on it. You had always been told you were a loud girl, and right here wasn't really the place for it.

The very moment he felt your walls clench around his fingers he pulled away from you. Sticking his wet fingers in your mouth he ordered "Now be quiet whilst you take me hmmmm~ and if anyone walks in... make sure you don't say a fucking word".

As he speaks you twirl your tongue around every inch of his fingers, lightly sucking and tasting yourself on him. "God, don't do that. You'll make me want to stick my dick in your mouth" he choked out, quickly removing his digits from your mouth, a line of saliva connecting you for a mere second before it broke.

"And what's so wrong with that Jjunie~" you whisper, bringing your body against his and squishing your chest against him. His composure was breaking with your games, and you wanted it to shatter completely. You find such joy in trying to bring a man to his knees.

Fingers wrapped around your neck and pushed you away from him and under the shower "Shut up... or I'll make you" he muttered; words meant more as a warning than a challenge. But... you liked being used like a slut, that's why you acted like a brat. Clearly Yeonjun had you figured out more than other guys do.

You would have countered back had you not found the hand around your neck to be the most attractive thing he could have done to you. Your knees grew weak, and you practically wanted to throw myself at him, but you'd restrain yourself.

His other hand reached behind you and turned on the shower, warm water running over your body, making you glisten in such a filthy way. You wondered if he was thinking he could wash and fuck the brat out of you... if he was, he was severely mistaken.

The grip on your neck disappeared, but that doesn't mean that his control was gone. Ghosting touch remained on your neck reminding you of the type of man he is, the things he would do if you don't comply to him, and oh how tempting it was.

As the thoughts of disobedience rung through your head, they were just as quickly wiped away. Yeonjun turned you away from him, bent you over and stroked a rough hand up your ass.

Your hands swiftly found the wall, and used it to keep you stable, opening your legs so he would have full access to you. One rough smack to your ass echoed through the room, your yelp following soon after. “That is for teasing me" he told, voice hardly recognisable as his own anymore. Another spank to your ass made you let out a loud moan this time. “That's for acting like a pretty little slut.... And this one, is because I wanted too" he spoke, one final slap to your ass making a moan slip from your mouth.

Just as you were gaining back your composure and state of mind, you felt his cock press against your hole. Your eyes slipped closed as you concentrated on the small bit of stimulation you were desperate for. His cock slowly traveled up and down your slit a few times before he actually bottomed out inside of you. A moan ripped from your throat at the feeling of being aggressively stretched by his big cock, whilst a thick groan came from his own mouth.

For you the initial entrance was always the most pleasurable feeling, other than the orgasm of course, and because Yeonjun fingered you before fucking you were that bit more sensitive.

Every slip of his dick, in and out of your hole, had you whining desperately. His fingers reached forward and wrapped around your mouth, quickly realising you wouldn't be able to hold back your sounds. "As much as I do want to hear that slutty voice of yours, I think it's best you be quiet" he whispered, bringing his hips back before slamming into you.

It wasn't long before he was rocking into you at a brutal, pleasurable pace, your body slamming forward at the movement. Your hands slipped every now and then, the wet tiles not giving you as much grip as Yeonjun had on your hip. The water had your hair in a slick wave, travelling down your back and it would flick over your shoulder every other thrust, reminding you simply how hard Yeonjun was fucking you.

Just as you felt the knot in your stomach start to burst, his dick slipped out of you, the feeling fading slowly. He made quick work of flipping you around so you could face him as you whine "Fuck, no, Jjunie, I was going to cum!" Your voice sounded as an annoyed whisper, angry at his behaviour, but aware that people may hear you if you were too loud.

So far you had been lucky, nobody had come into the showering rooms. But that was to be expected, it's the middle of the day and people don't go to showering rooms mid schedule, let alone the ones at the company. Everyone is simply too busy with other things and have no reason to not use the showers at their dorms, which gave you the perfect spot to fuck.

His chest shook with that familiar chuckle as he picked you up, your legs wrapping around him naturally. The arms holding you up were as strong as you had always imagined after seeing him dance in his vests during dance practice. Now that they were around you in such a filthy act you felt your stomach swirl.

His dick slid back into your hole like it was nothing, your arousal paving the perfect path. Your back made contact with the wet tiled wall as he started fucking you again. "That's exactly why I turned you around, so I can see that beautiful look on you face when you cum on my cock". The very sound of his words had made you weak, a loud moan coming out of your mouth, despite you biting down on your lip to stop the sounds from escaping you.

He thrusted in and out of you, kissing at your neck roughly, probably leaving marks you'll hate him for later. With each kiss he left you felt a stinging sensation linger where his lips once had, that was enough to tell you he was marking you, that you were sooooo getting told off later, but you really couldn't care less.

Your hands roughly grabbed onto his back, your nails scrapping along it just as harshly as he was kissing your skin. You were just trying to grasp onto something, but the water had your pretty acrylics sliding across his skin. A low groan sounded from his throat "Fuck, keep doing that". You don't know what he loved so much about it, but you couldn't stop doing it, so you weren't one to complain.

As much as you felt the knot in your stomach start to burst, you tried to hold it off, not wanting to cum without him.

His movements started becoming erratic and you knew he was going to cum soon, and he wasn't the only one. You locked your lips to his, knowing you would moan loudly when you cum. One thrust, two thrusts, three and you had cum on his dick, but the thrusts didn't stop for him, he needed a few more before he had cum. You moaned into the kiss, his groans joining with yours.

When he pulled you off his cock you whined at the lack of warmth he provided. You detached your mouth from his, heavily panting with your head leant on his shoulder. Slowly, he helped you back into a standing position and under the water, so he could help clean you.

As he washed your hair you stared up at him, your hands placed on his abs. He looked so pretty flushed slightly red, and you knew that such a sight had made you blush.

You ran your hands all over his chest, feeling your fingers run up and down the definition. He chuckled, looking down at you as his hands massaged the shampoo on your scalp "It's nice to know you like my body~", he teased in a low mumble.

You huffed and took your hands from him "No need to be all cocky about it" you muttered, whining like a child that just got told off.

Staring up at him, a sudden thought crossed your mind “Yeonjun...?" You whispered, he nodded his head and you continued “how am I going to get out of here without being caught?".

He shrugged his shoulder and started washing his hair, not seeming all that bothered about the situation you were now in. "Yeonjun, help me think of something" you whispered to him, he shook his head with a laugh "no, cause it's not my problem. This is revenge for teasing me during dance practice, do you know how complicated it was to try and hide how hard I was. I hope this lesson will teach you something~ You will get caught. I won't, I did nothing wrong, all i did was shower. You are the one breaking the rules!"

You shook your head at him and pushed him out from under the water quickly washing yourself then getting your clothes back on. Seeing as they weren't wet you could continue to wear them.

Then you literally unlocked the door, left it wide open and ran out of the boy's bathroom. You were quick, not giving anyone the chance to see you, not that anyone was at this side of the company right now.

You made it back to the girls showering rooms and quickly dried your hair, re applied any other daily product and made it back to the dance studio before anyone could notice where you had gone.

You slid up next to Taehyun, your best friend, and he nodded at you, not really noticing you had gone anywhere. Five minutes later Yeonjun walked in with a sweet look on his face, his normally tucked hair behind his ears, not a single thing out of place. You hadn't even looked in the mirror, for all you knew you could look like shit.

You tried to mind your own business and stay huddled up in the corner, leaning on Taehyun. But Kai didn't seem like a fan of the idea. "Hey Hey (Y/N)! You are back! Come join us!?" He shouted, practically pulling you up to join him. You looked over to the group he was on about and as much as you loved them, you just didn't feel like it.

"Sorry Kai, not right now hmm~ l'm trying to get rest before we begin practice again. Go play with one of the other dancers~" you say, crumpling back down to Taehyun's side as Kai lets you go. "Hmmm, fine, but later though" he tells, quickly running back to them.

"Did you just go for a shower?" Taehyun asks? You slowly turn to face him and nod, knowing he had already figured you out. "Don't use the shampoo at the company again. This one doesn't smell right...

It's not your smell... does that make sense?". You couldn't help but giggle at him, you knew exactly what he meant, and it was adorable that he knew what smell suited you. "Noted, don't use this shampoo again" you joke, running your fingers through your hair, hoping he wouldn't notice how odd it was to take a shower halfway through dance practice, only to get sweaty again.

You glance up and see Yeonjun staring at you from the other side of the room. It wasn’t a friendly gaze it was teasing…. Oh lord, is it time for lesson two? What have you done?

[errihaienx]

sypnosis : you, a renowned journalist, once Atsumu's lover, are assigned to interview his team, MSBY Black Jackals, in the V League. amidst the echoes of your past romance and the intensity of the game, emotions flare as you navigate the thin line between professional duty and unresolved feelings. as questions linger and the court holds its breath, you must confront the love you left behind on the court of your shared history.

disclaimer : just to clarify, the storylines of the fics and the original meaning of the songs may not match up. each fic was crafted based on specific lyrics. for instance, 'reminder' by the weeknd is about him 'reminding' listeners of his identity and successes as a pop/R&B artist. however, in this fic, it's focused on an ex reminding you of their presence, highlighting your shared history with them.

Eyes scanning the email that had just arrived, you found yourself fixated on one particular line, unable to fully process the rest of its contents.

"Am I seeing this right?" you muttered to yourself, struggling to grasp the reality that you were being tasked with interviewing the MSBY Black Jackals for their upcoming match against EJP Raijin.

The weight of the assignment was not lost on you; both teams were immensely popular, and this opportunity could significantly boost your career and benefit the broadcasting company you represented. Yet, amidst the professional excitement, something stirred deep within your heart—a feeling long forgotten, ignited by someone from your past.

With closed eyes, you drew a deep breath, torn between accepting this golden opportunity and the memories that now flooded your mind. You were still carving your path in the media broadcasting industry, and this interview could be the breakthrough you had been striving for.

You tried to push away the distracting thoughts of the past, but they persisted, vivid flashes of moments shared with a smiling Atsumu dominating your mind. A bitter smile crossed your lips; this was merely work, a job that demanded professionalism above personal sentiment. Journalists couldn't afford to skip assignments due to old feelings.

Finally deciding to accept the job, your hands trembled slightly as you typed out a response to the email.

It had been years, and the likelihood that he would remember you seemed slim. Perhaps he would shrug off the past, considering his current fame and influence, or maybe he wouldn't even recall you at all. It was foolish to believe that Miya Atsumu, the volleyball star, still carried any remnants of a heartbreak from his high school days.

That thought lingered, engraved in your mind—that he wouldn't remember, or if he did, that it wouldn't matter to him. He wouldn't care about his ex, the one who ended things during his final year as a third-year student.

You knew you had made a mistake. Atsumu had been a devoted boyfriend, loyal and kind, giving you more love and affection than you had ever dared to hope for. Yet, despite all that, you couldn't say you regretted the breakup. You had always understood his passion for volleyball, knowing it was his calling. You convinced yourself that ending the relationship was for the best, a decision made to allow him to focus on his dreams.

A tear escaped, quickly wiped away. The internal debate had been exhausting, keeping you up all night after receiving that email.

Reaching for your phone, you contacted a close friend.

"What the actual fucking fuck?! Are you fucking for real now!? "

"Yeah… so I accepted it…" you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, recounting the job you had been assigned.

" Fuck, that's unexpected,"

You nodded in agreement, feeling the weight of this unexpected turn of events.

"Well, don't be too bothered by it. There's only a 1 out of 10 chance you'll end up interviewing him. There are like ten people on that team, and Atsumu has a reputation for skipping interviews if he's not in the mood. "

Nodding along, you felt a semblance of relief. Amidst all the focus on Atsumu, you had momentarily forgotten that he was just one member of a larger team.

"However, if fate has it out for you and you do end up face-to-face with Atsumu for an interview, just think of it like a chat with your ex."

Your face twisted in discomfort at the thought, watching as your hopes seemed to evaporate. Your friend rambled on a bit more before ending the call, citing her late-night date with her boyfriend as the reason.

Exhausted, you collapsed onto your bed, shrugging off the swirling thoughts. You needed to act like you didn't know him, to focus on the task at hand. You had two weeks to prepare, a seemingly ample amount of time for a mere interview.

In two weeks' time, you vowed to do your best to forget about him. As your eyes drifted shut, sleep enveloped you, and you ventured into the realm of dreams.

• two weeks later...

Sweat dampened your palms as you flipped through the crumpled scripts, the two weeks leading up to this moment feeling like a whirlwind. What was supposed to be a slow, preparatory period had raced by, leaving you on the brink of losing your composure.

Now, mere minutes away from your interview with the MSBY Black Jackals, the clamor of loud cheers and the clicking of camera shutters filled the vast volleyball stadium where you stood.

"Don't let the pressure get to you! You've interviewed bigger stars before; this should be a walk in the park," a staff member from your company reassured you.

A smile tugged at your lips, finding some comfort in their words.

"You've got this. Just stick to what you've rehearsed over the past two weeks," you murmured to yourself, drawing from the intense preparation you had put in, a departure from your usual approach to interviews.

Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you took a sip of water. The deafening roar of the crowd reached its peak, causing you to flinch. Could this be it?

"Shit!" you cursed under your breath as you caught sight of the imposing figures of the MSBY Black Jackals, their silhouettes commanding the space.

Composing yourself, you braced for the inevitable. You knew the drill. Your gaze met first with the familiar form of Bokuto Kotaro, striding confidently towards the media area. You dared not let your eyes wander further; it was dangerous, far too dangerous.

But it seemed danger had a penchant for seeking you out. With eyes as cold as ice and a physique that demanded attention, Miya Atsumu fixed his gaze on you. As your eyes met his, he arched a brow, a smirk playing at his lips as he scanned you from head to toe.

This was unexpected, catching you off guard. Yet, you reminded yourself to stay resolute. You were here for the interview, and nothing would shake that resolve. A member of the MSBY management approached, handing you a paper.

"I apologize, Miss (name), but we can only spare 15 minutes for this interview. However, we have scheduled an off-camera interview with the team," they informed you.

You nodded, forcing a smile at your lips. Fifteen minutes was more than enough. You need to get this work done immediately anyways.

"U-umm…"

"Yes? Is there something else?" you asked, sensing the nervousness in their stutter. Remembering your own early days of stumbling over words, you made an effort to be understanding.

"Y-you're so pretty in person, Miss," the staff member blurted out before quickly turning away.

A laugh escaped you at their candidness, finding it endearing. It helped ease some of the tension, bolstering your confidence for the impending interview.

But of course, just when you thought the danger had passed, there he was—Miya Atsumu, heading towards you with that familiar smirk.

ah, here it is the danger.

• twenty three minutes later...

With trembling hands, you tried to compose yourself after that disastrous interview with Atsumu. In the taxi, tears threatened to fall as the film of the interview played in your mind. You found out that he had volunteered to handle the media and they found it amusing, considering it was out of character for him. Taking deep breaths, you watched your interview with him, grateful that you had at least managed to maintain your composure as you had rehearsed. If you hadn't known yourself and watched this, you would have never guessed you were once exes based on the interview.

Just as you thought you had survived the danger, it came back for you. After the interview, another journalist from a different company asked Atsumu why he had taken the lead in presenting himself to the media.

"I feel comfortable with (name)! I guess that's the reason," he replied casually.

"Oh, you mean, Miss (name), the one that interviewed you earlier?"

"Yeah, we knew each other…" he smiled, a glint of pain visible in his eyes.

The aftermath was a flood of texts, emails, and calls from your coworkers after they saw the clip. Frustrated and anxious, you personally emailed Atsumu's management requesting a meeting to ask him not to mention anything about your past again. His management agreed, asking to sign some documents first before scheduling your off camera interview with MSBY. You had thought that a staff member would be handing the paper works to you but, to your surprise, it was Atsumu himself who showed up.

and now here he stands, in a tight red button-up shirt, with a familiar dogtag hanging from his neck.

"You're a renowned journalist now…" his voice was soft, as if he was yearning.

You straighten your posture, making the best efforts to make this as professional as it should be.

"Please, let's get to the point…"

"I'm so proud of ya…" His lips quivered, you're just so....so pretty that he would die.

"Stop skirting the issue and stick to what's relevant." you replied coldly, but your hands are trembling.

he smirked, the previous yearning dissipated like it was never been there.

"Ahuh? why're you tryin' so hard to act like we didn't have somethin' before, hmm?"

"Why are you doing this…"

"I am just remindin' ya, (name), you know me."

He reached for the script from you and scanned the first page; the first part of this interview was about the player's introduction. In his opinion, you should have simply introduced him because you know him so well, you've seen everything, explored his mouth, and screamed his name.

"Are you forgettin' things now? Then let me remind you. Startin' with my name, I am Atsumu Miya."

"I know that you are the A-atsumu Miya.."

"Oh, didn't even stutter while sayin' my surname. I mean, of course, ya once asked me to give ya that, right?" he continued, flipping through the script. After the introduction of names, it stated that the interviewer should ask about Atsumu's relationships, so he decided to answer himself.

"Fer my relationships, I had a few flings before entering a serious one in my late second year. My relationship with that girl was so great… so amazin' that I kinda want to experience it again."

You shivered, feeling the weight of his words.

"But unfortunately, she broke up with me during a tournament match. Oh, why did ya flinch? That situation rings a bell, huh?" he smirked.

"'Tsumu…" you called out to him, and he was stunned.

"Quit it, please… I am truly sorry for my selfish acts. I know I couldn't make it up to you after all these years, but you are very successful now…"

your eyes were warm, you should not cry this is an interview, right?

"You could do something to make it up if you want to—"

"Please stop… Our breakup probably was the reason you're successful now! Right! You can't deny that. If we didn't break up, I could have been a burden, and maybe you wouldn't have reached your dreams, so please let's not—" you pleaded, desperate to end this conversation, but he cut you off.

"If we didn't break up, I could've won that match and become successful way sooner," he said with a stern voice and hurt yearning eyes.

"What do you want…" you whispered

"I am just—" he trailed off, trying to compose himself first.

"I am just reminding you that you know me. I can't bear the fact that I am the one who was left, but why am I the one who's restless about it? How can you act like you never loved me?"

"It's not like that, I am just trying to forget things—"

"Forget everythin' but not me."

he reached for your trembling hands, closing his eyes before kissing it.

"Please, not me…"

"Even if I have ta remind ya over and over again, I'll do it. Jus' don't forget about me. About us…"

He kissed your ring finger once more after carefully touching each one of your fingers. You should be aware that he hasn't changed and is still completely smitten.

"It was always you, baby. Can we—no, we will try again. You ain't forgettin' me."

You were left stunned, the weight of his words sinking in. The air crackled with unresolved emotions, the past colliding with the present. Atsumu Miya, the boy you once loved, stood before you, asking for another chance.

more about this series : TO BE POSTED! ( please check the link later ^^ )

up next : ????

[anonymous-eggy]

Quest with an artist Mc

bc i cant stop thinking ab himb....

i wrote this very impulsively so. yeah. theres a bit of horny towards the end, but theres also fluffy sweet things

• he learns of you being an artist when you find the time to create bloomic fanart.

• and you got endless showers of praise from him on how good it was (especially if the fanart included Xander)

• he just thinks its so neat. his artistic expression of choice is poetry, so he's not much of an artist when it comes to drawing.

• he can draw some basic flowers, but thats where his talents end.

• no matter your usual art media, buy gold (body safe) paint and paint his scars. kind of like how you paint the cracks of repaired pottery and such? except make it a vulnerable bonding experience.

• he has many scars all around his body from past accidents and gang related violence.

• i feel like he gets really insecure about them sometimes and worries theyll make you think too much about his past

• but seeing you turn them into something golden and beautiful with such ease and affection... gives him a new appreciation for those parts of him.

• he loves it even more when you connect nearby scars like intricate rivers of gold flowing across his body.

• make sure you fill the comfortable silence with lovely soft words of affirmation and kisses every now and then for the best results.

• absolutely call him your golden boy.

• the only issue is that he feels really bad for having to eventually wash them off.

• so take pictures and send them to him for just you two to hold onto ;)

• despite feeling bad about washing them off, he always feels so much better about his scars and body.

• and let him know this is exactly how you see his scars <3

• i feel like during times when you're not able to paint on him because of a late shift or something, he just looks back at the pictures and replays the soft memories for comfort.

• this is more towards the beginning of your relationship with him, when his insecurities about his past bothering you were the worst

• moving on from that, he is the perfect man to reference.

• he would find it so very funny if you ever complained about parts of him that are hard to draw.

• i could imagine just sitting there watching him work out and just... drawing the way his muscles flex and the way his body bends... dear lord those thighs...

• when you first did this, he immediately noticed. he didnt quite have the courage to ask if you were drawing him (after all, forms of art are very personal things)

• but when he sees you're staring at the sketchbook page more than him, he decides to take a break and ask you.

• not because he's getting jealous of the notebook. hes not a jealous person. the curiosity just takes over because the stares mean you're stuck on smthn or you're finished.

• and boy is he beyond flattered. flustered even.

• he's never really... thought much about himself. physically and mentally. so the fact that he's worth being sketched touches his very soul.

• if you're the type of artist who loves gushing over defined shapes and begin to ramble about the shapes that you love about him, his cheeks will be red and he will patiently listen to every word you have to say.

• as weird as it is to listen to someone describe his physical features with such passion, there's something special about the way you talk about it.

• especially if you suddenly realize what you're saying and get flustered.

• he likes feeling like art when its you. he loves the way you map out his body and turn the shapes of him into strokes of graphite poetry.

• .... he wouldnt mind if you drew him suggestively as well... so long as its for your eyes and his eyes only...

• of course there would be teasing about just how much you seem to adore his body, but never in a way that deters you from sketching him more.

• which, knowing Quest, his teasing quickly veers into horny territory. at the very least deep kisses.

• he says he just want to "give you more inspiration" and that "its his job as your muse"

• he definitely develops a fixation on your hands specifically. the way your hands trace his body delicately as if trying to memorize every line of him while making out with him on his lap.

• it absolutely drives him insane.

• the way his large hands encircle your wrist while his fingers press on your palms in bed. or when his fingers tangle with yours. and he can see you looking at it. memorizing every moment of it. of him. of the emotions tied to the image.

• that part he loves the most about your art. the pure emotion of it captured so perfectly

• oh yeah it definitely awakens something in him. especially if he finds you sketching those the next day peacfully at your desk.

• honestly i think you being an artist just changes the way he sees things. in the best of ways.

• he also finds himself massaging your hands absent mindedly while cuddling. and softly kissing them... they work so hard and he wants to take care of them for you.

• he is just so very happy to be your favorite muse.

~sigh. time to make a Blooming Panic section on my masterlist...

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Dreaming Of You - Tenth Doctor X GN Reader

Title: Dreaming Of You

Tenth Doctor X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's parents (Mentioned), Actual doctors (Mentioned), Charlotte (Mentioned), Lucie (Mentioned), Rose Tyler (Mentioned), Martha (Mentioned), Donna (Mentioned), Jackie (Mentioned), and some popular Doctor Who aliens (Mentioned)

WC: 3,501

Warnings: Reader's parents to have been mentioned sending the Reader to a therapist/psychologist, brief mention of Rose and the Doctor's separation, it's a small bit sad, but only for a second, first meeting, not a lot of dialogue, past mini angst parental-wise, and fluff

Ever since you were a child, around seven or eight, you would have vivid dreams about one person. Though, that person seemed to change every couple of years. You had seen so many faces, but in your dreams, they were all the same man; or whom you had thought was a man at the time. 

Your dreams always consisted of him, in a strange room with blinking buttons and metal levers... And a strange blue police box. Sometimes you would see others, but they never lasted long in your dreams. They always... Faded out. You had no idea why.

Soon after your first couple of dreams, you would begin drawing him and the many adventures that he seemed to go on. You had even gone to your parents at some point with your drawings. You had thought that they would be interested in your designs and works, asking you questions with curiosity and intrigue... When in reality, they looked at you with worry, especially since most of your drawings - other than the strange man with many faces - were of horrific alien-like creatures. Instead of compliments and questions, they sent you to a child therapist... And psychologists in later years.

None of the many therapists and psychologists that you had gone to knew exactly what you were - quote on quote - suffering from. Some said that you just had an overactive imagination, while some said that you were possibly stressed or anxious. You didn't like going to the appointments. When explaining your dreams and showing off some of your drawings, they would all just act so concerned and confused. That just made you feel more and more uncomfortable as time went by. None of them really took you seriously.

It got to the point that you lied to your parents and said that your dreams had stopped. The dreams didn't stop, but you stopped showing your parents your drawings and stopped letting them read in your dream journal... And soon enough, they got off your back and you didn't have to see those doctors anymore. 

This all didn't stop you from continuing to draw and write about your dreams though. You kept writing and you kept drawing. At this point, having moved out of your parents' home, and having your own place to live, you had more than three dozen drawing sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches; the same goes for those dream journals. It took around two cardboard boxes just to pack them all away when moving. 

And even into adulthood, you had thought that at some point the dreams were going to fade away, but they didn't. In fact, you could argue that they only got more vivid, and more detailed as time went on. The drawings also became more and more realistic. And you couldn't help but wonder if it was because of how often you drew him. All the dreams, all the drawing, all that practice made you a pretty good artist if you had to say so yourself. 

But you had questions that didn't have answers, and you wanted those answers. Why were your dreams so vivid, realistic, and detailed? Was there any truth behind them? You were sure that there was, but you had no way of proving it. You weren't sure if you even wanted proof some days. The dreams were a part of who you were now, and they were not easy to ignore. It even came to a point where they were talking...

When you were a kid, the dreams were silent. No one said anything. You would just watch as this man traveled around the strange room, pushing buttons and so on. More often than not, you'd watch as he and a friend would travel to strange and astounding new worlds, meeting equally strange and astounding beings. But as their lips and mouths moved, you never heard a sound. It was almost like a silent-picture movie.

Only a couple of months after you turned seventeen, did you begin to hear things in those said dreams. It was as if someone was turning up the volume on the radio really, really slow. By the tenth or so dream, you could hear them clearly as if you were right beside them. You heard their conversations, their secrets, dreams, worries, fears... Everything. You found out what the man with the many faces was called; The Doctor, and that he was a Time Lord from a planet that no longer existed. As well the names of his prior companions and the planets and galaxies that they traveled to in space and time. 

For years, every night, you had seen them and got to know them. You grew attached to them. The first one that you could remember was named Ace. There was even a Charlotte, and Lucie, and many others. But, then came Rose Tyler. Now, you remembered her name and face very well. You had grown very fond of her until she faded out of your dreams as well. It was a bit silly, but when you saw roses for sale, you bought them. You always had roses in your blue vase in your kitchen by the window. And only somewhat recently - in the past year or so - had you seen two new people with the Doctor; Martha and Donna. Martha was gone, long faded a couple of months ago, but Donna had stayed and was still in your dreams as of last night. 

And though, having these dreams was, in fact, very intriguing and thought-inducing, they weren't always so grand. In addition to seeing all the marvelous places that the Doctor and his companions went to, there were the horrors that came with it. You had seen so many beings, so many creatures. And though some were quite peaceful, your mind was somewhat plagued by the evil ones. Though you had once thought Daleks were cool, design-wise, you began to fear them. Especially after what your dreams had said about them, had shown you. You feared the Clockwork Droids and the Sycorax. Not to mention the Abzorbaloff and the Racnoss. And you found the Ood quite interesting, despite their somewhat frightening appearance.

It was around eight in the morning when you woke up, your alarm blaring. You quickly grabbed your dream journal, writing down your latest dream involving the Doctor and Donna Noble before getting to work with a sketch. Swapping your dream journal, you grabbed your sketchbook and pencils. For the next hour or so, you sketched what you remember most about your dream. This dream was a bit different than most of the others that you had had, this one featuring less running for their lives and more enjoying their lives. They had traveled to this planet that the Doctor found extraordinary. It was purple. The ground was purple, and the grass and vegetation were purple. And the large trees, reminding you of Giant Sequoias, were orange and red. You liked the red ones best. You loved it when the Doctor stood in front of one of those orange trees, admiring the colors as the sun rose. You wondered what it might have felt like to have been there. What did the planet smell like? Sound like?

Before you knew it, your mind had wandered, and you snapped out of your memories of your recent dream. Looking down at the two pages that you practically filled with sketches from the said dream, you sighed. Like most days, you had filled the page with him. Mostly. The page on the left had a sketch of the large, towering trees, the silhouettes of the Doctor and Donna standing before them, looking so small. On the same page, you had even drawn some of the plants that the Doctor had pointed out to Donna with such infatuation and excitement. Then, turning to the page on the right, it was filled to the brim with just the Doctor. A collage of his many different expressions; joy, excitement, calm, and content. 

Some were of him from his side profile, while others were of his full frontal view; brown suit and dirty Converse. He had a goofy grin, in what was the middle of a bright laugh, his hands on his hips as if he was proud of himself. His hair was very messy, with dark strands sticking up everywhere, unable to be captured and secured by the gel in his hair. He looked so carefree. Other sketches showed just his eyes, the dark orbs seemed to stare at you through the page; in addition to some of just his nose, hands, or that smile of his. In the bottom right corner of the collage, you had a drawing of him crouching in front of one of the many plants, arms resting on his knees as he stared down at it thoughtfully. 

You found him beautiful. 

That was something that you had noticed in the many, many years of seeing the spaceman in your dreams. He was handsome, caring, and thoughtful. Very handsome indeed, although you wouldn't admit it to anyone. Most people would probably think that you were crazy if you had told them that you were crushing on a man that you had seen every night in your dreams for years upon years. And that's why you never told anyone. Not even your closest friends knew about your dreams, your journals, or your drawings. 

Sighing, you snapped out of your thoughts once more before writing the date and time - ‘March 21st, 2024, 8:53 AM’ - in the corner of the left side page in fine print. Then, right below, you wrote, 'Day 8,432.' Setting your pencil down, you stared at the finished two pages for a moment before closing the sketchbook slightly. You would have to go and buy a new sketchbook soon, you were almost out of room; running out of pages.

Checking the time, you figured you had enough time to look at the previous dreams. Flipping towards the front of the sketchbook, you reminisced over the dreams you had seen throughout the year. The first page of the sketchbook was of the last couple of dreams with Rose. 

Fighting off or running from different types of aliens. Her and the Doctor holding hands, smiling at each other. Staring up at falling snow… Having tea with Jackie… Fighting the Daleks… The tears streamed down their cheeks. The Doctor… Hand and cheek pressed against a white wall, unable to do anything, helpless. And Rose, stuck in another dimension; in agony, heartbroken.

You bit your bottom lip as you flipped through the pages and the memories, you stumbled past the ten pages of Martha before landing back to Donna. 

You had often wondered whether your dreams truly meant anything. You had thought that there had to be some way that they did. Your mind would think rationally, telling you that you just had an overactive imagination like all those doctors had told you. But, your heart wished and yearned for something more. The thought that something more was out there. That there were beings and creatures out in the far-off places of the galaxy that you and everyone else hadn't yet seen. The whole thought was fascinating and you only wished that it was true. You had always wished for there to be something more out there.

Shutting your sketchbook, you quickly got ready for the day; getting dressed, brushing your hair, teeth, and so on. After eating breakfast, you grabbed your messenger bag and stuffed your pencil case, sketchbook, wallet, phone, and whatever else you needed for work before leaving your home. 

The walk to work was a bit too quick for your liking, but time seemed to fly and before you knew it, it was your lunch break. Walking down the sidewalk, you were minding your own business, somewhat lost in your thoughts. Headphones over your head, you listened to your playlist as you headed towards your favorite cafe where you always had lunch; their sandwiches were to die for.

But before you could decide on whether or not to get a coffee or indulge yourself in a milkshake, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You stopped, turned, and then froze. Your eyes widened, your jaw dropping slightly as you stared at the man before you. Dressed in a brown suit with a white button-up and brown detailed tie; complete with a brown, long overcoat and off-white Converse. He had very familiar brown, sticky-uppy hair and striking brown eyes... His gaze, intense, stared right back at you. As handsome as ever. His eyebrows were slowly but surely furrowing as the corners of his lips twitched into a confused frown. 

You were literally speechless, your shaky hands moving your headphones to rest around your neck. He was actually here. Standing right in front of you. After a few moments of silence of staring at each other - but what felt like hours for you - his mouth opened, his voice sounding just like how you remembered it, just like in your dreams, only clearer. "Hello." He said simply, tilting his head to the side and raising his hand to reveal the pencil he held within it. "I think you dropped this."

You looked from him to your pencil, and back, and finally, you could breathe. "O-Oh... Uh, thank you." You took your pencil from him before daring to look back up at him. 

He continued to stare at you, obviously confused that you could practically see the gears turning in that head of his. "Do I know you?" He asked, stuffing his hands into the large pockets of his brown overcoat. He raked through his mind, trying to figure out if he had ever met you or run into you before when he visited Earth, but he was left empty-handed. He was sure that he would’ve remembered you if he had met you. “You seem to know me…”

You let out a breath, blinking rapidly, still shocked out of your mind that the literal man of your dreams was standing right in front of you. It couldn't and shouldn't have been possible. 

"No... I don't think you know me..." You muttered, swallowing thickly, unable to break your gaze from his hazelnut brown eyes. "But... But I do know you." That only seemed to confuse him more. Quickly looking away, you checked your watch on your wrist before looking back up at him, "I can explain everything somewhat if you have the time- nevermind," You shook your head - as if what you had said was ridiculous, which it was in his case - and waved your hand dismissively, "Time is relative... Ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff." You muttered the last couple of lines, mostly to yourself, but he heard you; only spiking his immense curiosity. "Uh, just follow me." 

The man - The Doctor - followed you without a second thought, a step or two behind you as you led him to the park across the street. Finding a park bench somewhat away from the main path, you took a seat. As the Doctor sat down beside you, you took your messenger bag into your lap, opening it. The Doctor watched intently as you grabbed your sketchbook and passed it to him.

He noted your name on the cover before he opened it to the first page and froze. Though as quickly as he froze, he unfroze, quickly but carefully flipping through the many pages of your sketchbook; his, and many of his past and current companions' faces staring up at him.

Martha and Donna… And Rose…

Along with objects and aliens from his prior adventures; the TARDIS - inside and exterior - his Sonic Screwdriver, Oods, and Daleks…

And in the first couple of pages, he even saw one of his past faces. 

He saw little scenes, moments of his life and the adventures he had been on with his companions. He saw a sketch of himself, standing before the Clockwork Droids in the ballroom when they had wanted to harvest Madame de Pompadour’s brain for the ship. Turning a couple of pages, he saw a sketch of when he and Martha were in the hospital she worked at when it was transported to the moon. And flipping a couple of more pages, he saw when he saved Donna from the Empress of the Racnoss on her wedding day.

Once he got to the last and recent page, he looked up at you. And what you had thought was going to be a look of confusion and shock, you were surprised to find that instead, he had a wide grin on his face; eyes wide in excitement and curiosity. "This is incredible!" Your eyes widened.

"What?"

"Your drawings of course!" He answered, gesturing to your sketchbook with a hand, "I must know, can you see the future or into the past? Or do these just come to you? In all my years of traveling through space and time, I have never seen anything like this, to this extent!"

You blinked, "Uh... I don't really know much or how this works... I'm still a bit shocked you're even real, in front of me." You rubbed your cheek, glancing away, "Ever since I was a kid, I've had dreams about you every night." You inwardly cringed when you said that aloud, "They're so vivid, so... Real. They feel so real!" You paused, thinking about it. Looking back up at him, you continued, "I've seen everything you and your companions had gone through. Daleks, cybermen, everything. Well, not everything. But, I've seen a lot of it." You looked down at your lap, "I have always wondered whether or not those dreams really meant something if they were as real as they seemed to be. Or if I was just crazy… For years, I have always wondered if there was really life beyond Earth, beyond the solar system... If there was something bigger, better out there in the vastness of space." You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. Opening them again, you looked up at him; watching as the Doctor stared at you in wonder. His eyes sparkled, filled with emotion. He was clearly fascinated.

And he was fascinated. He was so incredibly captivated by everything about this human who sat before him. "So you know who I am?" He passed back your sketchbook.

You nodded. "Of course. You're the Doctor." You answered simply.

You then watched as he then wordlessly grabbed the Sonic Screwdriver from the inside pocket of his overcoat before scanning you. You blinked again, the somewhat bright, blue light blinding you momentarily as the Doctor stared down at the object with a thoughtful frown. "Well, you're human all right. Nothing out of the ordinary there." He was silent for a long moment before suddenly looking up at you with a small grin, eyes still bright. "Come with me."

Your eyes widened, "What?"

He stood from the bench and offered you his hand, grinning at your bewildered expression. "Come with me. The TARDIS brought me to you for a reason. See the great dying stars of the Berugawa galaxy, see new worlds, and new beings, and see amazing planets beyond your wildest imagination!”

Your eyes widened. The sight of him, the way his warm chocolate eyes gleamed, and the way his face lit up made your heart flutter; the charm. There was always something that drew you to him, something about his aura that made your heart beat faster and your chest tighten; a sort of gravitational pull that seemed to pull you closer to him; like the planets that orbited around the sun. 

You could finally see all the things that you had seen in your dreams. You could live the life that you so wished that you could live. One of adventure and discovery; one of being able to go anywhere and see anything. To learn anything you could, to experience everything possible. And you could even possibly find out why you’ve been having those dreams in the first place. The possibilities were endless...

And then you saw him - the Doctor - your dream come true, standing right in front of you; his open hand waiting for yours.

A smile slowly stretched across your lips as you took his hand, standing up. Hands interlocked at your sides, you followed the Doctor to the TARDIS, which sat parked on the curb, waiting patiently for its passengers. You felt excitement bubble within your stomach as he opened the door, your smile widening at the sight. 

The Doctor watched you with his own grin as he led you inside. You slowly dropped his hand as you slowly spun around you, looking at the lights and the console in the middle of the room; unable to stop smiling; the awe on your face made his grin widen. "I know you hear this a lot, but..." You began, turning around to look up at him, your grin matching his. "It's bigger on the inside."

[sleepyghostuwu]

The Artist and the Gem (Part 2, rewrite)

Synopsis: You start brainstorming about your mysterious client's request and begin working on it. Unfortunately, that means finding a way to get your unconventional art subject to cooperate with you, whether or not he knows about it.

Notes: (Edit: I wasn't too happy with how it turned out and it was bugging me a fair bit, so I had to redo it for my own peace of mind.)

Fem! Reader POV will be used in this series as it is what I'm most comfy writing in ^^ Also it's really lengthy lmao (I got too excited writing this) so get ready-

Previously: Part 1

It has been a good number of months since you've received the mysterious client's commission.

You've been finding yourself becoming increasingly productive in both your white collar and artistic jobs, presumably from wanting to rid yourself of as much work as you could to work on Aventurine's portrait. It has gotten to the point you even managed to send out most of your commissions to your other clients, even the impatient one who had been living on your nerves for what felt like an eternity. What made you want to get his portrait done and over with so badly? That was a question you were too afraid to find answers to.

Speaking of Aventurine, you have a slight problem: while you knew how he looks like very well, you had no clue how to draw him that well. The fact that the both of you work in different departments and hence very rarely see each other made your task of observing his appearance better all the more difficult.

With all possible odds pitted against you, only two solutions remain: you could either spy on Aventurine during your lunch and tea breaks and sketch him in secret, or directly ask him to pose for you for a few minutes. Given your current ranking in the IPC, you have a slightly better chance at the former. As the clock strikes at lunchtime, you quickly grab your tablet and head for the first place you can think of: the lounge.

-------

"...Don't worry, I'll be sure to send you the updates as soon as I get them," Aventurine's carefree voice echoes like a chime as he and the other Stonehearts leave the meeting room for their break. Your breath hitches and you quickly crouch behind the nearest potted plant you spotted in the vicinity, peeking through its leaves cautiously.

"This is the worst idea I've ever thought of..." you curse under your breath as you stabilised yourself against the wall. You have passed by Aventurine during work before on several occasions, and rarely ever get to briefly speak to him about work-related matters, so seeing the man himself with your eyes was not something unfamiliar to you. However, what left you the slightest bit horrified was the next thought that entered your mind.

Aventurine is stunningly handsome.

His sandy hair, which was slightly tucked behind his left ear, flowed down his neck like sand in an hourglass, and his eyes were as vibrant as stained glass windows in the sun. The deep green and gold coattails trailing behind him reminded you of a brightly coloured bird as he strode across the hallway, always seeming like he had people to show off to in every corner.

(Y/n)! Focus! You frantically shake your thoughts out of your hand and ready your tablet. It's your only chance at this, so don't mess this up! Propping yourself against the wall as you continue crouching behind the potted plant, you whip out your stylus and begin drawing furiously.

The first few attempts you made were a little sloppy (by your standards, at least), but in a short while, you manage to fill the better half of your drawing spread with surprisingly good sketches. The fact that Aventurine was perfectly still as you drew each pose made your success feel too good to be true. As you watch Aventurine leave the vicinity with a few cups of coffee in hand, you heave a sigh of relief and stood up, propping yourself against the wall as you wait for your legs to recover from crouching on the ground for so long.

And it's still lunch hour, too! You smile to yourself as you turn to leave for the office cafe. Everything went according to plan. Surely nothing could possibly go wrong after this-

"Oh, (y/n)? I didn't expect to see you here."

A chill runs down your spine as you slowly come face-to-face with none other than Aventurine himself.

-------

"H-hello, sir," you squeak, clutching your tablet in a tight embrace as you desperately tried to hide its contents. Clearing your throat, you add, "I was just going to the lounge to...well, take a rest."

"Hmm..." Aventurine stares intently at you before checking his watch. Then, he looks up at you again and chuckles. "Really? With that tablet of yours, too?" He raises an eyebrow at the tablet in your arms. "I'm pretty sure doing extra work isn't something a person would be doing to take a break."

Damn, he's catching onto me. Embarrassment and fear kicking in, you avert your eyes from his. Aventurine tilts his head to the side in feigned curiosity. "What are you doing here anyway? Are you...hiding something from me?" His eyes shift to the tablet in your hands.

"No..." You cling to your tablet tighter as the voices in your head scream for you to run before he does the last thing you want him to do. However, Aventurine swiftly swipes the tablet (which, much to your dismay, was still switched on) from your hands before you can physically react.

"Well, well, what do we have here- oh?" Aventurine's smirk gives way to a more surprised expression as he gapes at the canvas of digital sketches of him. "Oh my. Is that- is that me?"

You feel the heat rising in your cheeks as your worst possible outcome unfolds before you. Frantically, you attempt to snatch your tablet back, only to have your hands flail in vain as he kept moving it out of reach, only relenting and returns the tablet to you after a good few minutes.

"Oh, relax, (y/n). I didn't mean anything negative by that. Those sketches of yours are quite majestic, really. I'm just...pleasantly surprised, hehehe~ Though, I have to ask..." He leans slightly closer to you, his iconic sly grin now back on his face.

"What exactly are they for?"

[anzulvr]

Hii!! Can you do karma with a s/o that's rly quiet but ends up being good with kids??

Karma x Reader whose Good with kids // fluff GN! Reader

This all begins when E class gets themselves into deep trouble. Attempting to train on rooftops while studying for midterms, what they thought was a genius idea doesn't go as planned. Okajima and Kimura jump down and fall on top of an elderly man riding his bike. The old man is hospitalized for a broken foot. He ends up being the caretaker of multiple kids at a daycare he runs, Karasuma goes to talk to the man on behalf of his students-apologizing with flowers and all.

Korosensei orders the entire class to volunteer at the daycare and take the elderly man's place while he rests his leg to teach everyone about helping those who are weaker and those they’ve wronged.

Okay yeah, Korosensei was pissed- Karasuma just spent 20 minutes bargaining and apologizing to the rightfully angered old man and the class was filled with regret, shame and dread for the hard work that was coming. You on the other hand were secretly hyped! You loved taking care of kids, their cute little faces never failed to give you baby fever.

Even though you and Karma werent personally involved in the training scheme you still had to participate as it was a class effort.

The days of volunteering roll around and each day progress is made.

Everyone has a job to do, Some of your classmates are helping the kids study others are in charge of nap time and many are cleaning the space and fixing the building up.

You look over to a group of kids entranced with a theater show Karma, Terasaka and Okuda are putting on for them.

You catch yourself staring at Karma for too long, and bring your focus back towards your job;

You’re in charge of looking after the kids when they’re doing activities, (everything is in rotations for smaller groups)

Your current group is painting and drawing to their hearts content.

You notice one of the kids, Jiro, seems really upset, His eyes are getting watery. You crouch down to his level and ask him what’s wrong.

“My drawing— looks bad, I can’t draw good!” He speaks through the hiccups that slice his sentences up, now the tears are flowing down his cheeks completely.

���Don’t say that… You’re so talented Jiro, I want one of your drawings for myself!”

You ruffle his hair and he starts laughing through his tears, “You’re not lying?”

“Of course not, you’re drawings are my favorite thing ever!”

“Really?! I can draw one for you to take home!”

“The great artist Jiro will make me a drawing? Thank you Jiro you’re the best!”

Jiro rushes back to his seat with a smile on his face ready to start a new drawing as a present for you.

Michi raises her hand, "[Name] look!! I drew you!"

"Awe! I love it thank you Michi, you’re so sweet!"

She nods as she points to the second stick figure on her paper, "Look! I drew Karma because he's your best friend right?"

"Yeah he is-" You're cut off, startled by someone’s voice you turn to look and there he is.

"I'm just your best friend?" He feigns disappointment, you laugh and shove his shoulder gently.

You point at her drawing and back at him as a show of comparison "That looks just like him- you're so attentive to detail Michi!"

"I don't know what that means but thanks!" She skips back to her seat overjoyed with the praise.

Karma turns back to face you,

"Who knew you were this good with kids, it hasn't even been a full week and you're already their favorite- after me, they love me more."

You smile "You wish! Honestly I'm not surprised you're good with them, you have a fun personality, but anyway how'd the play go?"

"It went great, they're Kayanos problem now. I’ve been wanting to come over to you- just couldn’t.”

“I know, I can’t believe we’re on opposite sides of the room!”

“Can’t believe you’re still alive, clingy.”

“Shut up I caught you glancing at me every few minutes. You should focus more on your performance.”

“Hey my point still stands, if you caught me it means you were looking too!”

“I wanted to see how the story played out.”

“Righttt, rate my acting on a scale from 1 to Karma.”

“I’d give you a 9, just cause the outfit was cute.”

“Not bad, where’d the last point go?”

“You’re acting sucked-” you pressed your lip in an attempt to hide the smile threatening to come out.

He scoffed putting his arm around you, “You should do it with me! Tomorrow were doing sleeping beauty, all you have to do is sleep while I smack Terasaka with a plastic sword.”

“Sounds like fun, but I wanna see Terasaka getting hit— can’t do that with my eyes closed.”

“If you do it I’ll ask someone to film it so you can watch later, and more importantly I get to wake you up with a forehead kiss.”

“Alright then, the video convinced me.”

“You sure it wasn’t the kiss?”

“Maybe a little.”

A child’s shout brings your attention back onto your job “[NAMEE]! Michi spilled paint on me!”

Michi stands up “IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!!”

Restful moments with Karma couldn’t last forever but even the noisy ones you appreciated wholeheartedly, now you’d clean up the colorful mess together.

note: sorry for any errors in the writing pls correct me if you catch any <3! sorry this is late still have many rq to go through!

[poge-life]

𝟚𝟘 ℚ𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕄𝕋𝕍

So, this is a little bit different than the other interview fics I’ve done. Drew isn’t in this one, it’s more of how someone playing the character I created would answer the questions asked. But I did have it to where they are dating so he is mentioned quite a bit. This is based off the interview Drew did for MTV, so go on and check that out!

“Hi, guys. I’m (y/n) (l/n) and I’m doing 20 questions for 2023 MTV.”

‘Hardest Outer Banks spoiler you’ve had to keep?’

“Either that Big John is still alive or that Rafe and Avery break up this season.” You spoke

‘If you were to make a fan page for someone, who would it be?’

“Madelyn Cline. I am her biggest fan and love her with all my whole heart,” you laughed, leaning back in the chair, “my username would be ‘maddyclinemarryme’.”

‘Favorite line from the show?’

“Keep running that mouth and see if don’t come knockin’ that J-Crew lookin’ ass out’

You let out a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand before taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry but that whole scene between Rafe and Barry is on repeat in my head all the time. Just the dynamic between them is amazing and cracks me up.”

‘What was your first impression of Drew when you two met?’

You couldn’t help but smile at the mention of your boyfriend. It seemed like a lifetime ago when you two met. You were blown away by him at the table read and how well he could just easily switch over to a character like Rafe.

“It’s cheesy but I fell for him at the table read. I was just so blown away by him and how he could get so into a character like Rafe without being anything like him,” You smiled, “We were both kind of shy around each other but we sucked it up and spent a lot of time together considering we had most of our scenes together.”

“By the end of filming, we felt like we had known each other for years.”

‘Have you ever had a crush on an animated character?’

There was absolutely no hesitation from you as soon as you answered, “Danny Phantom. He was the first character I had seen that set the tone of what kind of guys I would have a thing for.”

‘Drew hesitated with his answer.’

You looked over to one of the producers as you raised your eyebrows, “Who’d he say?”

‘Lola Bunny’

You rolled your eyes as you tapped the microphone against your lips, “Him and any other guy his age. I will say, Lola was like the cultural reset for cartoon women.”

‘Who is an artist you’ve had on repeat?’

“T-Swift. Or Adele. My first ever CD was Taylor’s debut album and I was in love with her. Adele just knows how to write music that knows just where to hit you and gets me all emotional.”

This next one was a voice message they had chosen. They had asked fans to send in any kind of questions they wanted and they would pick the best ones.

‘You recently said in an interview that your guilty pleasure was ‘America’s Next Top Model’, who was your favorite winner?’

“Ugh, I know there’s so much controversy about ANTM but I can't help but love the show. My sisters and I would sit there and watch it all the time. We lived for the drama. My favorite winner would probably be… Whitney from season 10. She was the first ever plus size girl to ever make it to the end. She’s also the only plus size model to ever win the show and that kind of gave me a sense of…security, I guess? That you don’t have to be a stick or have the same body type as everyone to be a model.”

‘What did you think of Rafe’s buzz cut?’

You excitedly sat up in your seat as you held out your hand, “Can I just point out the fact that Rafe hasn’t had the same hair cut in any season?”

“But I was surprised at how well that played out for Drew because he was practically shitting himself because he thought Jonas, our showrunner, was gonna get upset with him but he actually wanted Rafe to have buzzed hair this season. I was actually a major fan of the buzzed look.”

“Then again, I’m a little biased because he’s my boyfriend but he always looks good.” You shrugged, leaning back in the chair as the producers laughed at your words, “He’s sex on legs.”

‘What’s your favorite line from season 3?’

“ ‘What do you need from me to bring down Rafe?’ I think that says enough.”

‘What would be your ‘most likely’

“Most likely to be napping. It doesn’t matter where I am or what we’re doing. I will find somewhere to take a nap.”

They had pulled up some clips from the premiere of season 3 from some of the questions they asked and it was Madison, “ (Y/N), who has the best music taste out of our friend group and why is it me?”

You let out a laugh as you looked back over at the camera, agreeing with her, “Madison does have the best. Only because she and I have the same music taste so I’m always vibin’ when I’m with her.”

‘What is your go-to karaoke song?’

“Drew always makes me sing ‘Tequila’ with him. He says it’s because it’s only one word throughout the whole thing,” You explained, “Drew likes to commit to things but finds the easiest way to do it.”

‘What is your irrational fear?’

You shuddered as you spoke, “Spiders. I am terrified of them. Drew kills all the spiders in our house. It’s ironic because I have a spider-web tattooed on my shoulder. But do not ask me to do anything with a spider or else I will cry.”

‘If Avery had a theme song, what would it be?’

You thought about it for a second, tilting your head in thought, “Happier than ever by Billie Eilish. Especially for this season. This season really shows that Avery is struggling to hold onto her relationship with Rafe and starts to realize he isn’t the same guy he was when they first got together.”

‘If you had to get a tattoo right now, what would it be?’

You let out a puff of air as you leaned back in the chair, “Jesus, I don’t even know what I’m getting when I set up my appointment. I’d probably get something that has to do with my dog. He’s been my best friend since I’ve had him.”

‘What’s your favorite book?’

“ ‘The Way I used to be.’ It’s the first book I ever finished in one sitting. It was a lot darker than what I was used to reading but it easily became one of my favorites. I highly recommend it but it does cover very sensitive topics, so please look into them before you read it.”

‘What is your dream theater role?’

“Oo, Satine from ‘Moulin Rouge'.’ I fell in love with her and the show the first time I watched it. Or Christine Daae from ‘Phantom’ but I cannot sing for the life of me.”

‘What would the internet be surprised to learn about you?’

“I’m a homebody. I prefer staying in over going out. Probably watching ‘Degrassi’ or ‘Lord of the rings.”

‘Favorite TV show you’ve recently watched?’

“The walking dead,” you answered, “I stopped watching it after Rick left because I was tired of getting my feelings hurt by that show every 5 minutes. But I got back into it after the last season came out.”

“I have the game on my iPad and I’m constantly playing it.”

‘What do you think of everyone shipping Rafe and Barry?’

You let out a laugh, throwing your head back before looking back at the camera, “Oh, lord. I find it hilarious. Drew and Nick are a dynamic duo and everyone loves them. They’re constantly sending each other fan edits people make. They love it.”

“Rafe and Barry have more chemistry than Rafe and Avery do, I think.”

“And there you have it. That was 20 questions with MTV and you guys got to know me a little bit better. Be sure to check out season 3 on Netflix and go watch some other interviews we’ve done.”

Are there any specific interviews you guys want me to do? I honestly love doing them!

[navybrat817]

Muse

Pairing: Artist!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky is thankful to have you as his muse. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Fluff, kissing, light insecurities if you squint, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's in love (and he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Nix was kind enough to send me an old edit she made and I ran with it for @the-slumberparty 's Across the Universe challenge. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by the lovely @sgt-seabass and divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky Barnes hadn't expected to find solace in art when he was younger. It seemed more like a path that his best friend Steve would take, though both of them appreciated expressing themselves creatively. Life also taught him that his road came with unexpected bumps and turns. Trading guns for brushes and pencils after he left the army, art helped him process some of his emotions he long kept at bay. It showed him how to look at life from a different perspective. In some ways, it saved him.

Like you did.

"Mmm."

The moan you let out drew Bucky's gaze up from his sketchpad, smiling softly as you stretched your legs out under the sheets. As tempted as he was to rouse you with his tongue, he decided to let you sleep since he already woke you once in the middle of the night. It wouldn't be the first time he sketched you while you slept.

The pad in his hand was already filled with drawings of you, but one more wouldn't hurt. Over the hours and days spent with you, he studied and learned your body well. He had other sketches and paintings of you in various angles and lightning. Those would never be sold.

Some art that existed was for the artist alone.

The pencil began to move across the paper once more when you didn't stir. If you woke up and caught him drawing you again, you'd shake your head and tell him he had more than enough. He disagreed.

There was beauty in his surroundings, but they paled in comparison to you.

"Bucky," you whispered, sending a shiver of excitement down his spine. Like the color red, you speaking his name invoked deep, intense passion within him. He saw hues in brighter shades thanks to you. "Come back to bed."

"I'm almost finished," he promised.

"You drawing me again?" you mumbled, bringing your hand up to cover your yawn as he kept sketching. "You have enough and I'm a mess."

"Maybe. Maybe not," he teased with a tender smile when your eyes opened halfway. "And you're not a mess. You're beautiful."

And it’ll never be enough.

"Careful, James," you teased back, arching your back as you stretched. "Keep smiling and sweet talking and they'll take away your brooder card."

"We can't have that," he winked.

When Bucky decided to pursue art outside of a hobby, he hadn't meant to become a brooding recluse on purpose. He simply preferred solitude while he worked and he valued his privacy. While he was encouraged to promote his work on social media to help build more clientele, he never showed his face. He let his art speak for itself. It worked.

It was how he came to meet you.

Before he met you in person, you were his favorite customer. You bought multiple pieces and left the kindest comments on his page. He often went back to reread them when he got lost in his own head.

"While there are many beautiful pieces of art in the world, Bucky Barnes gives us work that defines, and defies, beauty. His art can move you to tears or give you hope of brighter days ahead. We're privileged that he chooses to share his vision with us and one can only hope to see the world as he sees it."

He may have moved you with his visuals, but you moved him with your words.

"I have to meet her," he told Steve when you commissioned a custom piece.

Steve couldn't believe it since Bucky hardly ever let anyone into his studio. He said it was the least he could do for someone who consistently showed him support. He wouldn't admit at the time how nervous he was to meet you. Or why he felt so compelled to see the person behind the name since he refused to look for you on social media.

He realized that day it was destiny to meet you.

The artist and the muse.

"Back to bed," you ordered, moving the sheets back as he set his pencil and pad down. He used the opportunity to gaze along your naked frame bathed in the soft light, lingering between your thighs. "Please, Bucky?

"Who am I to deny my muse?" he smirked, slowly standing from his stool to stretch. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and he had thrown his dark hair up in a bun to keep it out of his eyes. "Especially when you look at me like that."

I'm littered with scars and you gaze at me like I have no imperfections.

"Have you seen you? You're gorgeous," you said, patting the mattress for him to sit.

“Not as gorgeous as you.”

“Take the compliment, brooder,” you said with a sleepy grin.

When he took a seat with a chuckle, you stopped him before he could lay over you. Instead, you took his right hand and had him stay in place as began to gently massage it. You commented more than once about how long and thick his fingers were and how warm to the touch they were against your skin. Working at his hand in tiny circles, you carefully rubbed out any tension you sensed. While you focused on the task at hand, he took another minute to gaze at you in wonder.

My beautiful muse.

"There," you said, kissing his palm once you finished.

"Thank you," he said, resting the same hand over your heart.

He watched and felt your chest rise as you inhaled. The steady beat grounded him. He was lucky enough for you to let him paint you with his love.

Inside and out.

"Do you ever regret it?" he asked as he traced a small heart on your chest.

Your forehead scrunched as you looked at him. "Regret what?"

"Choosing me," he whispered.

You had a chance to live a life of luxury and you walked away from it for me. Do you regret following your heart when you could've had so much more with him?

You exhaled as you pushed yourself up to face him and placed your hands on both cheeks, making sure he was looking into your eyes. "I will never regret choosing you or being yours," you whispered back.

Bucky's eyes softened as he smoothed his left hand down your back and dropped a kiss to your mouth. He lost himself in the feel of your lips and tongue, an exchange of desire he only got to experience with you. He didn't live a life of glamor, but he would forever give you a life of love.

"Now use me as your canvas," you said as the kiss ended.

Like Bucky said, who was he to deny his muse?

I love Bucky in love. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi