#just tries to give it an answer and move on

[f1smutwriter]

| 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 (𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔, 𝐋𝐍𝟒)

★ :: Experienced!Lando x Experienced!Charles Semiexperienced! reader

Pt1, Pt2, Pt3

★ : Summary :: She realized she needed them both but does she tell them

★ : Warning :: SMUT! masterbating(fem), fingering, oral(fem rec, male rec), riding, unprotected sex (sit your ass down), breast play, anal, making out, teasing, spitting kink, slight spanking, pet names (baby, darling, amour), double penetration at the same time, hair pulling, begging a ton of begging, poly relationship, mentions of uncomfortable situation at the end, more I probably missed

★ : Notes:: Sooooo I haven't written in so freaking long, like 6 months type long. But I'm back and I have so many things I want to write because they are even finer this year. Also so many people wanted a fourth in this series so this is it the last and final part. Your welcome

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“Baby I’m home” Charles called out walking inside the house after the longest triple header ever. When he came in he didn’t hear my usual running footsteps to him. But he heard the faint sounds of your whimpers something that became very familiar. He made his way to the room opening it ever so slightly so he didn’t give away his presence.

He saw me there naked body on top of our shared bed breathless and trying to find my high with my fingers, something I could never achieve without him. “Fuck” he whispered under his breath watching my hips bucking into my hand. His pants got tighter, his breath got heavier, and his hands were yearning to touch me.

He opened the door announcing to me that he was there but he saw my eyes shut trying to rub my clit to the orgasm I was never gonna get to. “This is what you do when you miss me huh?” He hummed out loud making my eyes jolt out and closing my eyes in pure embarrassment. “N-no only when I need it” I muttered out trying to get my heart to calm down but it felt like it was gonna beat out of my chest.

“No” he said in his accent that I loved and made me soaked. Usually he had that cocky smirk or a smile but not this time it was lust. Pure and utter lust. “What were you thinking in that pretty head while touching yourself” he questioned me while he walked towards me. “You” I stammered out. He knew that wasn’t fully the truth that I was thinking about him but not just him. “So we’re lying now” he replied looking at me with a slight smile.

“I’m not” I tried to reason but he knew me too well. “Wrong answer sweetheart” he grinned making his way towards me. “I’ll touch you but what were you thinking of” he whispered in my ear making shivers run down my spine as he slowly had his hand inch up towards my pussy. “Don’t be mean” I whined bucking my hips needing him but that was no use.

“You either say what you were thinking or you get left with this needy pussy untouched” he smirked slowly brushing over my clit making me whine even louder. “Fine I was thinking of you and lando” I cried out needing it. “Please touch me can’t take it anymore” I added bucking my hips to his hand.

“Good girl I knew you were thinking of him” he smiled slowly rubbing my clit giving me the release I was needing. I gasped slightly trying to guide his fingers in me. “Baby please need them in me” I begged with those eyes I knew he couldn’t resist.

“How about you fuck yourself on them while I call lando. Okay?” He said with a smile making me nod softly understanding immediately what he was planning on doing. I sink my pussy on his thick feelings feeling my eyes close and my head lean back as the tip of them hits my g-spot deliciously.

I moved my hips in a slow teasing motion wanting to build up my orgasm. Charles was calling lando as he watched me fuck myself on his fingers “how’s it feel Princesse” he asked kissing my chest sucking on my nipples giving me the extra source of pleasure. “Tellement bien Charles, ça fait tellement du bien s’il te plaît ne t’arrête pas” I moaned out gripping his shoulders to level myself. (So good Charles, it feels so good please don't stop)

Then we both heard the sound of the ringing stop and through the phone we hear Lando’s wetting British accent. “Hey mate. what’s up?” Lando asked thing Charles was gonna ask him for help with something, which wasn’t far off from the truth. “Do you think you can come over and help me with something” Charles asked giving me a knowing smirk as he curls his fingers right into my g-spot making me let out a whimper moan.

"Ahh, I see can hear her through the phone" he mentioned being able to hear his mischievous smirk on the other side of the phone. "Glad you caught on, front doors open just let yourself in" Charles laughed before hanging up the phone. He gently lays me down before fingering my pussy so hard causing my breath to leave my lungs. I let out the loudest moan that our entire apartment complex pretty much heard.

“Pl-ease” I moaned out gripping his wrist as he drilled his fingers in and out. He smirked softly kissing my neck. “Fuck your so wet and tight can’t wait to fuck you with lando here” he whispered into my ear making my pussy clench around his digits. I felt my cunt get absolutely demolished with just his finger. My mind was in pure heaven as my voice let out the loudest noises on earth noises I didn’t even know I was able to make.

“Close, m’gonna cum please make me cum” I cried my legs quivering the similar feeling in my stomach tightening every thrust he makes. “Then cum baby be a good girl and cum for me” he smiled before rubbing my clit letting my orgasm crash into me like a tsunami. “Wow such a gorgeous sight darling” I hear from the doorway the same nickname I had heard 2 weeks ago, which makes me open my eyes.

I smiled the second I saw him missing his presence. “Miss me princess” he smiled kissing my lips gently . I nod softly as I was still dizzy from the orgasm Charles just gave me. “Did a real number on her leclerc” Lando laughed softly kissing my head.

“So I heard you missed me” he asked softly looking at my vulnerable state making me nod. He smiled kissing me softly causing me to kiss back. “Gonna take care of our girl huh leclerc” he said to Charles while Charles nods biting his lip. “You know the drill Mon amour hands knees like a good girl” Charles told me sternly but softly at the same time.

So I did what I was told not wanting to cross them. I went on my hands and knees feeling so vulnerable and exposed to them almost like I needed to cover up. “So pretty love” Lando said softly kissing my lips as I feel Charles lick my sensitive cunt. I moaned loudly closing my eyes. “Very sensitive pussy” he mumbled into it before pulling away. “Would you like a taste” Charles offered Lando making him smiled before eating me out.

“So good” I gasped out my thighs shaking before he stopped. “Where do you want Charles love” Lando asked me softly. “Anywhere just please” I begged softly needing them. “You take her I want the back” Charles said with a smirk on his face. “Come it on my lap love” Lando told me as he takes his cock out of his pants. I slowly sink down on him causing me to loose all the air out of my lungs.

“What’s wrong darling to much” Lando teased as he bottomed out in me. I shake my head no, my hands on his chest while I bite my lip so hard I was afraid of it bleeding. "So tight babe, even after getting this pretty cunt stretched out by Charles fingers" He teased me before bucking his hips up into mine making me let out the loudest moan ever.

Then I felt the feeling of Charles's finger playing with my other hole. "You think you're ready for both again" Charles whispered into my ear while kissing my neck. I nod instantly wanting them both like last time. Then he put lube on himself groaning at the sensation lightly.

"Let me help mate" Lando offered making Charles look a bit surprised but nodding. He felt Lando's hand wrapped around his cock feeling ten times better than his own. All Lando did was smirk stroking Charles cock faster.

I felt myself giggle at the interaction between them since they've never touched each other only me. "Nice view" I say to them both with a smile as I bite my lip. "Sorry amore" He said thinking I was weirded out. "I liked it I promise" I smiled reassuring them both not wanting them to worry.

"Okay good to know" Lando whispered looking at Charles the same way he looks at me when he wants a kiss. So Charles looked at me for reassurance making me nod softly before they leaned in their lips touching for the first time.

Seeing them kiss for the first time gave me a sense of happiness for all of us stepping a step forward in this. Then Charles slipped in me without any warning feeling myself moan digging my nails in Lando's air. "Ssshhh feel him love, feel how deep he is inside you" Lando whispered softly rubbing my clit gently calming me down.

I nod giving them the green light to start moving, they both slowly moved in and out making sure to go gentle. The way the night started I would have no thought it would have led to Charles and Lando fucking me slowly gently. Way different from the other time we were all together.

Lando was leading while Charles was following him, both of them going in and out almost like a melody. I let out soft moans leaning into Charles chest needing someone to hold me through this euphoric moment. "I got you baby, I got you" He whispered thrusting in and out of me with such passion and gentleness.

Lando watched me and Charles in pure awe seeing Charles care about me and deep in his chest he felt protectiveness between me and Charles. Needing us both not in a 'sex buddies' type way but in a 'I think I love you' type way. But he couldn't tell us not when Charles and me were committed. "Hey what's wrong" I asked softly seeing Lando zone out rubbing his chest.

"Lost you there for a bit" Charles said a bit concerned on him making sure everything was okay. "yeah sorry was a bit overwhelmed, we can finish" Lando said sounding not so sure about continuing. "No tell us whats wrong" I pushed wanting to see what was bothering him. I slowly got off of him siting down next to him.

"Are you not into it or do you not feel good" I asked gently wanting him to feel comfortable enough to tell us. "Yeah no judgement if you're not into it anymore" Charles mentioned to see if that was the problem.

"It's not that, it's just" He started not sure if he should speak how he feels. But then he looked at us the concerned almost loved look in our eyes, not the look you give a friend. Then he gave me a look making me recognized it instantly, the soft gaze his eye brows slightly furrowed. "Oh" is all I happened to muttered out in the moment,"Yeah" He says back. "Okay what is going on I'm so lost" Charles asked with the most priceless look on his face.

"Would you like me to tell him" I say holding Lando's hand softly. He nodded trusting me in this moment all the trust he had. "Lando think's he loves us" I say to Charles as he gives a shocked face, a face I haven't seen Charles give ever.

"Is that true" Charles whispered softly making Lando shiver at the deep voice. "if it helps I feel the same" I smiled at him squeezing his hand. "Why do you think I told Charles he knew before you got here we planned this whole thing" I giggled slightly making him look at us confused. "Wait actually" he questioned not believing us at all.

He looked at Charles while he nodded with a smile on his face. "I hate you both" He chuckled softly shaking his head. "No you don't you love us" Charles teased him poking his side. "Fine fine maybe I do" Lando admitted as Charles when to the other side of him. "Wanna stay for a while" I whispered to him cuddling to his side. "Yeah just a little while" He whispered back looking at us with a different look he had then when he walked into to the house.

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★ : 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 :: I really hope y'all like this, its a bit different from my other smuts just wanted to switch it up a little. If you guys like my smuts like this you can always ask for more my request are open. Hope you guys have a good day loves.

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤSPIDER LILIES IN THE CRIBㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Yandere Peter Parker x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : Your baby dies, and you forget how to breathe—Peter forgets how to let go.

☆⁠ WARNINGS : Angst, hurt/comfort, child loss, trauma bonding, obsessive love.

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

You were glowing.

Peter would always say it—even now, even when your skin is pale and your hair is a tangled mess on the pillow. Even when your eyes are hollow and your lips haven't smiled in months. He still whispers it into the silence of your bedroom, "You were glowing."

Because you were.

When you told him you were pregnant, Peter cried. Not the way someone cries when they’re scared or hurt. No, this was the kind of crying that made him fall to his knees and laugh at the same time. Because you were everything to him. You were his entire world, and now you were giving him another one.

He had a name picked out. Drew Parker if it was a girl. Ben if it was a boy.

He talked to your stomach every night, told your baby stories about his Uncle Ben, about Aunt May, about what kind of kid he hoped they'd be. Brave. Kind. A little weird. Like their mom.

But the baby didn’t cry.

The room was too quiet. You were too quiet. Peter was screaming. The doctors were yelling. You passed out from the blood loss, and he swore he saw his whole world bleed out of you.

They handed him a lifeless body in a soft blue blanket. And Peter—God—Peter held it. Held it like it was still warm. He whispered, "It's okay, Daddy's here." But the baby was gone. Already gone.

You didn’t come back after that.

You woke up, but you weren’t there. Not really. You didn’t talk. You didn’t look at him. You didn’t scream or cry or scream at the sky like he did. You just laid there. Breathing. Barely.

Peter brought flowers. You didn’t touch them. He cooked. You didn’t eat. He tried jokes. Nothing. He started reading to you, every night, old comics, poetry, the news. He even read science journals, anything to fill the silence.

You weren’t you anymore.

And Peter? Peter was losing his mind.

His obsession didn't start now.

It started when he was fifteen. With guilt. With responsibility.

But you changed it. You were the only thing in this cruel, broken city that made him feel like a human being. Not just a masked hero or a walking graveyard of everyone he’d failed.

So when he lost the baby, and you slipped away, Peter couldn't handle it.

He started isolating himself. Skipping patrols. Snapping at MJ. Ignoring the Avengers' calls. He couldn’t leave you. What if you needed him and he wasn’t there? What if you tried to hurt yourself? What if you forgot how much he loved you?

He moved his workstation into the bedroom. Monitors, web fluid, everything. He started sleeping on the floor, by your side. Never leaving. His beard grew in. His eyes were bloodshot. But he never left.

"You're not alone," he’d whisper. "I'm here, baby. Always."

Weeks passed. Then months.

One night, he kissed your hand and swore it twitched. He latched onto that like a man dying of thirst.

He bought you a new robe. He brushed your hair while talking to you like you were answering back. He framed the baby’s ultrasound. He needed you to see it every day. “You remember, don’t you?” he'd say softly. “You were so excited. You cried. You said we were gonna be a family.”

Peter was spiraling. Not in an angry, aggressive way. He never raised his voice. He just sank. Into you. Into the bed. Into the memory of your laughter.

He started hallucinating your voice. Sometimes he’d smile and reply like you had said something. Sometimes he’d look at you and say “Don't worry, sweetheart, I’ll bring them back. I’ll fix it.”

You never answered.

He hasn’t buried the baby yet.

The body’s still in the freezer at the lab. He keeps saying he’s working on something—on maybe—on what if. No one knows. Not even MJ.

And every night, he lays beside you and whispers,

“I’ll fix this. I swear. Just stay. Just hold on.”

You didn’t look at him.

Not when he read to you.

Not when he brushed your hair.

Not when he whispered “I love you” like a broken prayer.

But your chest still rose and fell. And that was enough.

To Peter, that meant you were still fighting. Somewhere inside all the silence, you were still you. Just…buried under all that pain. Buried under that cold, still hospital room where he held your baby and begged a corpse to breathe.

It’s been five months now. The sunlight hits your cheek some mornings, and Peter holds his breath like that’ll be the day. The day you turn and blink and say his name.

You don’t.

But he’s learned how to live in the pause.

Peter talks to the baby now.

Not just in your stomach. Not in dreams. But in reality—to the small, still body cryogenically sealed in his lab.

He talks to him like he's right there, asking:

"Would you have had my eyes or hers?"

"Would you have hated math like her?"

"Would you have made her laugh the way I used to?"

He visits the lab every night, logs in with trembling hands, stares at the frost-coated glass, and says, “I’m going to fix this.”

Because somewhere in his fractured mind, Peter believes he can undo death.

Not for the world.

Not for Gwen.

Just for you.

Just so you’ll come back to him. Just so you'll open your eyes and be you again.

He stopped being Spider-Man.

New York doesn't notice at first.

Miles fills in. The other heroes think he's taking a break. They think he's grieving. They think Peter’s just being human.

They don’t know he hasn’t left the apartment in a week.

They don’t know he cut a hole in the wall to make the webbing dispenser reach your bed, just in case you ever tried to leave without him.

They don’t know he keeps your toothbrush clean and your favorite mug full, even though you never drink.

You’re not dead. But you’re not alive either.

And Peter lives in that in-between space like it’s sacred ground. Like maybe, if he’s good enough, if he just loves you enough, he can drag you back from the edge.

The day you scream is the day everything breaks.

It happens out of nowhere.

Peter’s reading again—some old sci-fi book you used to like—and you scream. A raw, primal, bone-deep sound.

He drops the book. Crawls to you. He’s sobbing, holding your face in his hands.

“Baby, look at me—look at me—it’s okay, I’m here, I’m here—”

You slap him.

Hard.

And then you start crying. Not pretty tears. Not cinematic grief. Ugly crying. Hurt crying. Animal crying. And Peter holds you through it like your screams aren’t ripping out pieces of his soul.

You hit him again. You curse. You say you hate him. You ask why the baby died. You ask why you’re still here.

Peter never answers.

He just kisses your forehead and whispers:

“Because I need you.”

“Because I’m not letting you go.”

“Because I love you too much to bury you too.”

After your scream, he refuses to leave your side for a second. Even when you sleep, he holds your hand. Even when you eat, he cuts the food. He’s afraid if he blinks too long, you’ll disappear again.

He has violent outbursts now. Not at you. Never. But at mirrors. At walls. At the world. He hates anyone who smiles. He resents anyone who has a child. He avoids hospitals like they’re graves.

He talks to you like you’re made of glass. “Don’t push yourself.” “You don’t have to smile.” “You’re enough. Just breathe for me, that’s all.” But there’s a terrifying edge under the softness. Like if anyone but him tried to help, he’d snap their neck.

Peter isn’t just your husband anymore. He’s your caretaker. Your doctor. Your priest. Your prison guard. Your everything. Because he needs to be. Because if he’s not, he has no purpose.

“You died too,” you whisper once, voice wrecked from months of silence.

Peter holds you tighter. Shakes his head.

“No,” he says softly, pulling your hand to his heart.

“I started dying. But I can’t. Not until you live again.”

And in the dark of the lab, the baby’s body is still frozen.

Waiting.

Because Peter hasn’t given up.

He never will.

You woke up to the smell of rain and the whisper of your name.

Your body still felt like a tomb, but something was different.

There was light. Warmth. Movement.

And Peter—hovering by the door—his face pale, eyes wild, fingers twitching like he’d just stolen fire from the gods.

You sat up, weak and shaking.

“Peter?”

Your voice was rough, unused.

But he dropped to his knees like it was the first sound of life he’d heard in centuries.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at you with tear-glossed eyes and a strange smile. A haunted, delirious, hope-drunk smile.

And then he whispered:

“He’s back.”

Peter lost his mind.

Obsession wasn’t new to him—it’s why he became Spider-Man. Why he kept fighting. Why he’s buried half his friends and still refused to stop.

But this time, he didn’t fight for the world.

He fought for one breath. One heartbeat. One cry.

One baby boy.

He begged help from Reed Richards, blackmailed Norman Osborn, broke into Dr. Strange’s sanctum, and bled for it. Quite literally.

He used forbidden biotech and unstable quantum timelines.

He didn’t even know if it would work. But he did it anyway.

Because you weren’t you anymore. And if the baby came back, maybe you'd come back too.

And then—

A cry.

A gasp.

A small, choking, impossible breath.

Not a clone. Not a dream.

Your son.

Alive.

Peter didn’t name him yet.

He wanted you to do that.

Because he needed you to believe it was real.

You don’t speak. Don’t sob.

You just tremble.

Peter stands behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, lips against your temple, whispering:

“He’s real.”

“You can feel him, right?”

“You’re not dreaming, baby, you’re not dreaming…”

And when your fingers graze your son’s tiny chest and feel it rise—

Something inside you shatters and mends all at once.

You start crying so hard, you can’t breathe. You scream into Peter’s shoulder, clutching the baby like the world could take him again if you let go.

And Peter cries too. Because he won.

He brought you back.

He brought both of you back.

You get better.

You sleep curled around your son like a dragon guarding treasure. Peter sleeps beside you both, hand resting on your waist like an anchor.

The laughter is slow to return. Quiet. Nervous. But it does. You laugh when Peter changes a diaper wrong. You laugh when the baby pees on his face. Peter cry when you laugh.

You name him Benjamin May Parker. Ben, for Uncle Ben. May, for the woman who raised Peter. When you say it out loud, Peter drops to his knees. It’s the first time in years he feels whole.

Therapy. Gentle sunlight. Soft music. Walks in the park. Peter carries the baby, but never stops watching you like you might vanish again.

You touch him again. Kiss him. Pull him into bed one night and say, “I’m sorry I left you.”

He shakes his head. “You didn’t. I never let you.”

Peter now—still unhinged, but softer.

He’s scary good at being a father. Changes every diaper. Takes every night shift. Wears the baby in a sling while web-slinging (you yell at him for this constantly).

The apartment is a fortress. Baby monitors, reinforced windows, Spider-Tech crib that could survive a nuke. He once webbed a stranger for getting too close to the stroller.

He worships you. Kisses your stretch marks. Talks to your body like it’s sacred. Whispers, “You made him. You brought him here. You’re everything.”

He terrified of losing you again. Still checks if you’re breathing when you sleep. Still wakes up in cold sweats. Still holds your wedding ring like it’s a talisman.

And sometimes, when the baby sleeps…

You both sit on the floor, back against the wall, holding each other.

No masks. No saving the world. Just the three of you.

Survivors.

You look at him—your brilliant, broken, beautiful husband—and whisper:

“You saved me.”

He shakes his head, eyes wet.

“No,” he says, kissing your fingers, voice cracking—

“You saved me.”

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[dark-l-angel]

hi!! I saw that you accept request, so I have an idea. It's not really a creative one but I'm obsessed with clingy Jason Todd 😭😭 so I was thinking if you can maybe (please🙏) write something where reader needs to go to work but Jason stops reader because he's needy. Do you get it😭😭

Thank you!

-G.A.

A/N: needy, whiny, bed-hogging Jason who clings like a big heat-emitting emotional weighted blanket telling you to quit that damned job that keeps you away from HIM? YES.. I've been waiting for this moment..

Clingy jason Todd x Reader

Clingy jason, reader is tired of their job. Everything else is fluff

The sun had barely risen. Pale gold light filtered through the curtains you swore you closed the night before, and the shrill alarm on your phone had already gone off.. twice. You were late.

You groaned and shifted, trying to sit up, but you didn’t get far.

There it was. That arm. That damn arm.. muscular, warm, and currently locked like a steel bar across your waist.

"Jason..." you warned softly, already knowing the game he was playing.

He didn’t answer. Not with words, at least. His only response was a muffled grunt into the crook of your neck, his nose nudging against your skin like a sleepy, stubborn dog refusing to move. You could feel his scruff, slightly overgrown, tickling your jaw.

"Jay, I have to go," you tried again, wiggling just enough to reach the edge of the bed.

"Mm-mm" he muttered, holding tighter. "Call in."

"I can’t just call in every time you get clingy-"

"You say that like it’s not a perfectly valid reason.." he interrupted, voice gravelly and deep from sleep. "Tell them your husband is a needy bastard and he’ll literally die if you leave him in this cold, cruel world alone."

You turned just enough to catch his expression.

Eyes still half-lidded, hair sticking up on one side, and that little pout forming on his lips. He looked like trouble disguised as a Greek god wrapped in a blanket burrito. Holding you in one arm while the other hugged a cute pink mochi-cat plushie.

"Jay..." you said again, but this time it was harder to fight the smile tugging at your lips.

He cracked one eye open. "What if I’m cold? You gonna leave your poor man here all defenseless and shivering while you run off to.. what.. type emails?"

"Not defenseless," you snorted. "You have guns, Jason... There's one inside that cat plushie.. and one under our pillows.. and another two in each of the nightstands jay.. "

He chuckled "And yet none of them keep me as warm as you.. and THAT JOB? It’s draining you. And I hate it. I hate seeing you come home exhausted, giving them all your time when I could be giving you everything... I don't fuckin know why you're still insisting on working when i can work instead.."

You looked down at your phone.. the messages of your coworker asking about why you're late..

Jason continued "I don’t want you breaking your back just to survive. I want you to be safe, healthy and happy. I didn’t crawl out of the damn Pit, rebuild my whole damn life, just to watch the woman I FUCKIN love so damn much struggle.. SO.. quit. Stay home. Sleep in. Read your books. Take long baths. Buy shit loads of brands, makeup and skincare... Hell, start that little dream project you've been putting off. I’ll handle the rest. I'm the man in this relationship.. the one who protects, provides, and handles the weight. And my baby? Her only job is to Be soft. Be spoiled. Be mine. You doesn’t ask for luxury.. you expects it. And I make damn sure you get it.. while you.. you? You just focus on looking pretty, being yourself, and let me give you the life you were born to live."

You got beaten quite badly.. yet you rolled your eyes yet you almost couldn't contain your smile. "You’re being ridiculous."

"You like ridiculous. It’s part of my charm. Now shut up and cuddle me."

He tugged you back down with very little effort, pulling your face into his chest and throwing a thigh over your hip like a greedy child with a favorite stuffed animal. His heartbeat thumped steadily beneath your cheek, and his scent.. warm, woodsy, something expensive you could never pronounce.. made it that much harder to resist.

"...Five more minutes," you mumbled into his skin.

Jason smirked, victorious. "That’s my girl."

And five minutes somehow turned into 2hrs. You didn’t even feel bad.

Ps: i really needed to see someone write jason with that speech 🫠💕

"yeah babe... maybe I'll quit". And like that.. his bby girl never came to work again ✨ and she lived happily in her husband's muscular arms forever 💖

[lay-z]

pricesoap 😩

This is for you, hon. Thanks for always matching my freak 🩷

Pairing: John Price x 🐇 hybrid!Reader x John MacTavish

Warnings/Info: 18+ MDNI | Hybrid AU; bimbo!fem!Reader; military issued emotional support hybrid; smut; soft dom!Price; abrupt ending (sorry!)

When you were assigned to the 141 as their lovely and incredibly submissive emotional support bunny hybrid, Johnny ended up bonding with you in an instant while it took his teammates a moment to warm up to something so utterly sweet and docile like you.

And while Simon and Kyle were less brash in their approach to your service as their ESH, Johnny thrived in your presence—seeking out your attention and affections every chance he gets while steadily falling for your buzzing energy and immaculate good vibes.

And on top of that—you matched his freak with equal fervour.

In fact, so much so, that for the first time in his life, it’s actually Johnny who ends up tapping out first while you continue to bounce on his spent and poor overstimulated cock with blissfully wild abandon.

And when it gets to a point where Johnny reports late for duty thrice in a row—dark circles now dulling his naturally bright eyes while he foolishly tries to refuel his dehydrated body with a deadly mix of black coffee and energy drinks—it’s Captain Price who finally steps in to prevent his Sergeant from ending up in the med bay with a broken prick and a rupture.

And Price takes Johnny aside after a long briefing, having watched him fidget and squirm in his seat, fully aware that he’s just dying to dig his meaty fingers into the plush fat of your hips while burying himself deep into your giving cunt.

The Captain knows, because he’s been there, too.

“You gotta slow down with our girl, son,” he chides the younger man eventually, steely eyes boring into bright blue ones to get his point across. “She’s not some mindless fucktoy for you to use every night. She’s part of the team and I need you to respect her position–”

Oh, but Johnny respects your position, alright.

When Price notices Johnny’s wandering gaze and drifting thoughts, he brings his hand up to curl around the man’s neck, giving him a firm squeeze that leaves Johnny gasping with wide eyes as the Captain leans in closer: “Fuckin’ focus, Sergeant. I’m not gonna say it again, understood?”

Johnny nods, barely able to move while Price basically scruffs him. “A-aye, sir!”

Price huffs through his nose, pleased by his Sergeant’s stammered answer before he loosens his grip around his thick neck.

“Good,” he grumbles, giving Johnny a firm few pats on the shoulder. “My place at 2100 sharp tonight… and don’t you dare be late, MacTavish.”

Johnny shows up ten minutes early, still shuddering with the memory of his Captain’s strong hand around the nape of his neck, gooseflesh pebbling on his skin underneath his civilian clothes.

When he knocks on the front door of Price’s private quarters, it takes less than a minute before the door swings open, revealing the Captain himself; wearing a pair of comfortable slacks and a black polo with the buttons left open and dark coarse chest hair peeking out through the gap.

“Evenin’, sir,” Johnny greets him, already looking past the older man’s broad shoulder, expecting to hear Simon and Kyle inside—and hearing none of their familiar voices. His thick brows furrow in confusion, but Price merely chuckles gruffly, shaking his head and taking a step aside to let his Sergeant in.

“Come in and wait in the living room. I’ll join you in a moment.”

Ever the obedient soldier, Johnny does as Price says—only the freeze on the threshold to the dimly lit room once he spots you sitting on the black brown leather couch, all pretty and clad in his favourite pair of matching lingerie—the pale pink set he’d gifted you not too long ago.

He expected a surprise poker night with Price and the lads, but not—this. Definitely not this.

“Johnny!” you exclaim, eyes shining with the kind of raw adoration for him that has his cock twitch in his boxers like a Pavlovian response.

“Hi, my bunny,” he greets you, somewhat breathlessly, as he approaches the couch. He has no right to question why you’re here—you belong to the rest of the 141 as much as you belong to him—but your presence, after what Price had told him today, makes his stomach tie into nervous knots.

When he bends at the hip to steal a kiss, you eagerly meet him half-way, straightening your spine as he cups your face with one hand and pets one of your floppy bunny ears with the other; thick fingers brushing over the soft, creamy-beige fur.

He can feel you smile against his lips as your hands reach up to grab fistfuls of your shirt, keeping him in place as you try to deepen the kiss. Johnny can only groan, resolve melting like stick of butter in the sun, while the thought of his superior’s presence is pushed into some uninteresting parts of his busy brain—

“MacTavish,”

Johnny freezes, eyes flying open at the reprimanding growl coming from his Captain before he gently pries your hands from his shirt to pull back, ignoring your protesting whine with a tug on his heartstrings.

Price saunters into the living room, one hand shoved into his pants pocket, the other holding onto a freshly lit cigar. “I’m disappointed, but not surprised,” he says before taking a slow puff.

Out of habit, Johnny stands at attention—broad shoulders squared, spine stiff, feet squeezed together, and you giggle behind him before he can throw in a salute on top of it all.

“At ease, Sergeant,” Price says with a quiet, amused snort before nodding his chin in your direction. “Be a darling and strip for us, aye? We’re going to do what we’ve talked about earlier, sweetheart.”

When Johnny glances over his shoulder, one thick eyebrow raised in question, you only nod obediently as you unclasp your lacy bra with practiced ease and letting it drop onto the carpeted floor haphazardly.

“Uh, Cap’n,” Johnny croaks out, swallowing hard while his throat is rapidly drying up as he looks back at Price for some guidance—or a proper revelation about what the bloody fuck is going on here. “Wh–What is goin’ on here? If ye wanna spend tonight with our girl, Ah’d completely understan’, ye know, but–”

And then Price steps up to Johnny, and whatever words he thought about saying, immediately die on his lips when the Captain blows a plume of smoke while pushing his warm hand against Johnny’s sternum.

“I’m gonna teach ya how to properly fuck our girl, Sergeant.”

[korn-dawg]

sub!vi getting her shit disrespectfully rocked <3

✄ sub!vi who's sprawled out across the couch when you come home from work, spending her day off taking some well needed rest

✄ sub!vi who immediately notices your pissed off look, knowing it was gonna be a long night

✄ sub!vi who doesn't resist your harsh hand when pulling her in - kisses all teeth and tongue, free hand grasping at every inch of flesh while her other held onto the collar of her cotton tee

✄ sub!vi who lets you drag her to the bedroom, following after your every step like a shadow

✄ sub!vi who waits patiently on the bed as you rush out of your work clothes, baby blue's staring right at your strap as you shuffle the harness on and lube it up

✄ sub!vi who welcomes your body clambering onto hers, calloused hands gentle and soothing on your waist as she spreads her legs for you

✄ sub!vi who's gentle presence contrasts with your strung out and exasperated one, letting you pour your frustrations past her lips and down her throat as forcefully as you need to

✄ sub!vi who sighs quietly at you grinding your strap against her, mouths moving in sync while the silicone rubs against her clit

✄ sub!vi who can't take it after a while, pulling away from the kiss to beg you to just put it in her

✄ sub!vi who agrees with your degrading teasing, giving you puppy eyes in hopes you'll let up

"yes, yes, i'm a desperate slut. just c'mon, please? i need you in me."

✄ sub!vi who moans when she feels you fill her up. not high pitched, not pornographic - it's raw, nearly broken from the teasing alone

✄ sub!vi who hardly gives herself time to adjust to the stretch, already grinding into you before you have the chance to move

✄ sub!vi who reels at the sudden emptiness as you pull out, only to immediately get stuffed again with a swift slam of your hips

✄ sub!vi who gets very little warm up before you start to pound into her, skin slapping against skin full pelt as you grab her ankles to push above her shoulders

✄ sub!vi whose breathing picks up at the pace, coming out as choppy gasps melded with small mewls

✄ sub!vi who rocks into you desperately despite her position, struggling to lift her hips up off the mattress, causing you to snicker

"gettin' greedy now, violet?"

✄ sub!vi who feels the sharp sting on her scalp before her eyes snap open - your hand grasping her hair near the roots, forcing her to look down

"look at yourself. sluttiest fuckin' pussy. aren't you ashamed?"

✄ sub!vi who can hardly form a response, a high pitched mewl tearing from her throat as she tries to close her eyes, only for her hair to get yanked farther

"did i tell you to close your eyes? huh? open that shit right now."

✄ sub!vi who cums not too long after, vision spotting as white hot pleasure floods her veins and arteries

✄ sub!vi whose thighs shake as you abate your movements, rubbing her clit to see her squirm and kick out before smoothing your hands down her thighs

✄ sub!vi who feels your hands grab at her not too long after, shifting her to lay on her back, head hanging off the edge of the bed

✄ sub!vi who feels the head of your strap prod at her lips, her eyes still closed as your voice floods her ears

"clean your mess up."

✄ sub!vi who barely opens her mouth before it's forced open, silicone bottoming out in her throat

✄ sub!vi who gags and chokes, shaky hands on your hips as you fuck her face

✄ sub!vi who swallows around the girth of the dildo, trying to relax as her eyes flutter close again

✄ sub!vi who gasps for air when you finally pull away, arms falling limp when you step out of her reach

✄ sub!vi who doesn't talk much as you clean her up, only answering the more important questions of "are you okay?" or "i didn't push it, did i?"

✄ sub!vi who lets you carry her to the bathroom, setting her in a warm bath while you change the sheets

✄ sub!vi who comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, looking slightly more alive as she dries off and gets dressed

✄ sub!vi who lays down in bed with you, clinging to your form with her face buried in your neck

✄ sub!vi who gets to pick the movie for doing such a good job for you, falling asleep to heavy praise and kisses

alr everyone thank saturn for helping me w this one or go sit in the corner

taglist : @hihihhihahahha @lolitalovess @peskylez @saturnhas82moons @kylorey25 @lipglosskxsses @mars4hellokitty @hwasddeongbyeoli @foralltheprettygirls @meow4510 @therealhexstrap  @sunflowerwinds

[sleep-0-deprived]

Divination (top Yan oc follower x godlike cult leader male reader~!) ୨୧

WC:. 1.8K

Tags: porn-no plot, dom sub relationship, obsessed follower, size king, small top x bigger sub, breeding kink, nipple play, cultic themes (fairly vague tho), bottom Amab male reader, godlike/divine being male reader, human top, anal sex, unprotected creampies, yandere themes <33

Taglist: @asher-is-hotxp @silvern1006 @unstab1eperson2 @yyuinaa @dewday1 @blond3ang3l @creepy141dollie @m4r13ll @ihavezeropancreas @sooobiinn @just-ignore-them @fuckingmxonlight @nightwinglover101 @chasingknives @littlelilithsposts @gayaristocrat @whatupbishs

A/N: Soo this S’ a request sent in by @aetheriuslover an S’ somethin a lil different but I tried but I’know it’s all rushed ૮꒰ ˶Ó ˕ Ò˶ ꒱ა

Divination was a word used a lot when it came to you, the people- the followers seen you to be divine, you were and they knew that by the robes you wore and the feathers that played on your back.

You were a god to them, a savior, and a beacon of devotion to all that worshipped you. Some followers were more devoted than others and some devotees were more willing than some. One devotee in particular you knew was utterly yours for your cause.

His name was James, he was nothing but yours, he was a man of your faith and he adored you like no other. Sometimes to the point of questionable extents. He was in the top inner cirlcle- a council of high ups really. Like a cardinal to the religion that was named yours.

So here you were, just done with your ritual ceremony sitting on your knees wearing white silken robes styled like a Chiton wrapped around you having your head tilted. Wings on your back and the sides of your head keeping your eyes hidden only to be seen by those worthy.

The sound of the old door to your worship room opened, the day was nearly dusk and you could tell it was James just by the doting foot patterns he had when he made way towards you. Your wings move from your eyes finally exposing your e/c irises.

“You look as beautiful as you always have [name]”

“Thank you James— what brings you here so late?”

“Nothing- I simply wished to see you”

He sat down before you sitting oddly close, his hand resting on the smooth fabric that did little to cover your thighs, he was a smaller man- he wasn’t a small human though— in fact to most ladies he may have been big but compared to your nearly seven ft body his 6,1ft stature only kneeled in comparison and while his chest was muscular your was still bigger.

“Is that all? I think you wish for more”

Your voice rang through the room and he didn’t bother to deny your statement. James’s hand slid up further to your crotch he was in another world just daydreaming about you it seemed. His free hand finding your hip pulling you to him on the floor, this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in fact he’d argue that it happened fairly often. He felt like such a depraved man when he touched your pure skin.

“I do wish for more, will you give me more [name]?”

His face found its way into the chest of your robes just looking up at you in awe watching every twitch both sets of wings gave when his palm pressed firm to the bulge growing between your thighs.

“I will”

the answer was simple but it was a good enough reason for him to let his tongue from his mouth and let it start lapping at one of your peaks making the white fabric translucent on your body. His hands grip at you desperately making you feel his need- the air of lust was far from the purity that your followers searched for inside you and maybe it was a sort of sick pleasure to James to know he corrupted such a pretty thing.

“Thank you [name] so perfect- dove”

Your chiton started to be pulled and pushed up your body, you were being pushed up against him completely with your bare cock pressed between the two of you, his own robes growing constricted around his bulge. He wore the clothes of a follower and he bore them proudly. He stripped you down to nothing in his lap while making sure to be gentle around your wings.

As needy as he was he’d never risk hurting you, you knew that despite your size he’d treat you like a delicate little creature while he ruined you. A firm hand placed on your cock stroking it hard while his mouth bites and latches at your nipple leaving it all hard with your back arched in his lap, your hands gripping at his shoulders sitting like a perched bird in his lap.

His own bulge presses to your bare cheeks, you could feel the heat radiating off his manhood, your mouth watered at the thought of it filling you up. The touch that littered your body soon left for James to strip beneath you unable to tear his eyes away from you. His cock sprung forwards pressed up between your cheeks with the tip pressing a sticky substance to your crack.

“You don’t have to be gentle with me, I assure you I’ve survived many lovers”

You could feel the muscles under your fingernails clench up, clearly unhappy at your declaration, he wasn’t naive he knew with how long you’ve been on earth you probably had countless lovers or nights of pleasure in someone else’s arms but it still didn’t make him any less upset- god they probably didn’t worship your body the way it deserved.

“No matter how many lovers my grace has had in the past I promise they aren’t me”

“No they weren’t”

Fingers find their way to your cheeks spreading them and pulling them apart allowing his cock to budge against your puckered rim, the pain of being penetrated was never one felt like the average being, the pain was nonexistent so prep wasn’t needed for you to be enjoyably fucked, James had discovered that little quirk with his first night with you in your temple.

“Tell me you want me, tell me [name] let me know it’s my body you crave”

His words are exasperated and desperate and all he craves in the moment is to feel you need him as much as he knows he needs you. James’s words is muffled by your pecs his drool runs down your hard abdomen nearly getting on your cock- he always was a messy eater wasn’t he?

“I want you- I want you so bad James, I swear it”

You reach up to grab his chin but not pulling his lips fully off your skin, the pale wings around your face fluttered out of the way just staring at him so tenderly. He could’ve sworn this to be his eternal paradise. Soon the cock head presses to your rim and pushes, the first inch the hardest to spread the tight ring of your muscle but he was determined.

Inch after inch gets pushed inside you, halfway down onto his shaft and your prostate is already pressed up against- for a human he was undeniably big but his cock was still an inch smaller than your own. His skill made up for the lesser inch in ways you never thought possible. The feeling of skin contact fills up your senses, just accepting the nails that gripped your ass cheeks tight making a numb sting be felt on your flesh.

“You’re simply perfection, if only I could make so many perfect creations out of you- inside you”

Those words were lewd but they still held such a grasp over you. Your cock untouched between the two of you as you begin to lift your hips hissing to have to drop them back down on his cock- sinking the length inside you fully feeling like a virgin on top of him by the way your wings preen open like some avian creature preforming a mating dance.

“That’s it- you’re good James”

Those praises had him on cloud nine- the feeling of your warmth in his cock and your body in his lap had him a mess licking all over your pecks letting out labored groans using his full strength lifting your larger body up and down on his manhood. One of James hand moves from your ass cheek to reach at your chest squeezing it like he was attempting to milk you like a broodmare.

“Tell me how good I’m doing my dove, just tell it to me even if your words are silent”

A symphony of pleasure and body pressed contact held the room proving the state of lust shared between you two. Your walls got hotter and start to contract deep inside when his veiny tip presses your prostate head on nailing the bundle of nerves hidden in your deepest depths like a rose being uncovered from the garden.

“So good- mh- right there James- come on right there”

Your climax was soon approaching and it felt heavy in your gut, you urgently tried lifting yourself in time with his lifting. Spreading your insides for him oh so graciously getting impaled on his dick over and over until all that could be felt was a pleasant tingle in the tip of your cock and a few jolts inside your body that ached from the pleasure all of this brought you.

And god if the hand on your chest didn’t do much but only further help that pleasure. James’s lips rotating between each tender nipple doing his best to not neglect them while your fist balls up in his hair.

Before you reach your own high you feel a hot warmth inside you, his body stiffened he was orgasming hard, his hand dug small red marks into your ass cheek and chest when he started to buck his hips upwards into you from underneath doing his best to not let a drop of the seen spill out of you.

“It’s all yours [name], every bit of my essence is yours. wanna have all of myself inside your tummy”

“I wanna create life within you. I wanna plant something new something no other man has given before”

He was perverse. He was unashamed beneath you but you suppose that was a factor you had always loved about James. His cracked voice being enough to send you over the edge hitting your high hands free with your cock spurting ropes onto your abs leaving a line of your fluids mixed with his spit coating your skin.

Your cock jumped a little oozing the last bit of your come out of the flushed looking tip, the veins on the side of your shaft staring to soften coming down from the orgasm that hit you.

Your rim puckered up one last time getting the last bit of sperm from him before your wings jaggedly let themselves bend and tuck down on your back.

“Look at the mess you made us make”

He spoke letting his eyes break away to only see scattered white feathers you had shedded all around your worship space, the room was stuffy from the scents that burned and the smell of sex that came from you two.

“Let me clean this all up”

“You can straighten it all up later, just stay right here for a while longer”

“Yes of course [name] if you so wish of me to stay I will”

The words come out utterly smitten when he lets his grip of your body go, his fingers finding way to your hips just to rest there intimately. You slowly let your fingers go from his golden locks. Sitting in a calm silence with his body still conjoined inside of yours felt sweet, maybe even intimate beyond pleasure filled moments. You have been growing fond of this man haven’t you?

[coldfanbou]

Doing is Better Than Watching

Here we go with something a little fun. It was something that was made for an odd pairings challenge. I did end up adding a little.

Length 3.7K

Chuu X Mreader X Hwasa

Chuu scanned the area, her heart beating out of her chest as she looked up at the sign. As her eyes drifted downward, she saw the bodies pressed against the window. Their breath fogged the glass as the people on the other side watched. It was arousing. The young woman had never felt like this before. As she stared at the act being committed before her, her legs rubbed together, her hand moving to her core before she stopped herself. Chuu gulped and took a step back. Turning her head away from the lewd sight. She started away, pushing through the crowd of onlookers and crossing the street. 

Chuu turned back, the name of the building being ingrained in her mind. Tinkerbell. She went home, her mind flashing back to the woman she watched. The way her body had grinded against her partner’s, the euphoric look on her face. It was all in her mind. 

Opening the door to her apartment, Chuu saw you flicking through channels. She balled her hands, her thumbs nervously rubbing against the side of her fingers. “Hey, what’s up, Chuu?” She opens her mouth to reply, but her voice doesn’t come to her. 

She purses her lips, considering how to answer. The first thought in her mind was to ask, “Have you ever heard of a place called Tinkerbell?” She pushed the idea back, saying “nothing,” instead. “How was your day?” Chuu sits down beside you laying her head on your lap, poking your thigh with her finger. 

You place your hand on her head, moving her hair away from her face. You see the edges of her lips curl upward in a smile. “My day was fine. I didn’t do very much. By the way, have you decided what we’re going to do for our date?” Chuu shook her head; she had completely forgotten about it. For a moment, she considered asking about Tinkerbell again. Reasoning that a guy would love to go there, and maybe she could watch it go on from outside. Chuu bit her lip; she hadn’t yet shared those sorts of details about her desires with you. She didn’t know if you would want that, so she kept it to herself.

“I haven’t thought about it much.” Chuu turns her body, looking up at the ceiling. She kicks her feet as she considers what she should do for a date. “Is there anything you want to do?”

“Our last date was my choice. It’s your turn to choose what we do.” You reply, tapping the top of her head to remind her you took turns choosing what to do.

“Well…there’s something I want to do, but…I don’t know if you want to.” Chuu felt her heartbeat quicken. She refused to look you in the eye and turned her back to you just as quickly as she had turned to face you. 

“Chuu, it’s your choice. Remember when I made you go bungee jumping?” You ask, shaking her head. Chuu swats your hand away, a smile forming on her face as she remembers the trip you took, how her legs shook as she stood on the edge of the platform and needed to be pushed off. “You screamed holy shit the entire way down before yelling and crying like a baby.” You were teasing her, it wasn’t that bad, and she knew it.

“I did not!” Chuu yells, shooting up. She straddles your lap, raising her fist against you, a sly smile as she tries to batter you. You reach up, trying to grab her wrists. Chuu giggled as you tried to stop her. Your hand slides up one of her arms, stopping at her wrist. You try to stand, falling forward instead, landing over Chuu. You grab her other wrist and hold the small woman down. She tries to resist for a moment before giving up. Her breathing begins to slow as she stares at you. “You cheater, you can’t grab my arms. It’s not fair.”

“Why isn’t it fair?”

“You’re stronger,” Chuu whines, puffing out her cheeks. The sight makes you smile; Chuu’s expressions always look so cute. You bend over and kiss her cheek. Chuu tries to stay mad, but as you pepper her with small kisses, she breaks into a laugh, her toothy smile shining through now. You let go of her wrists, and she wraps her arms around you. “No cheating next time.” She giggles before moving in and pressing her lips against yours.  You shake your head at the ridiculous thought.  

“Alright, so are you going to tell me what you want to do?”

Chuu purses her lips. “D-do you know of a place called Tinkerbell?” You recognize the name and cock your head to the side. “I want to go there.”

“What do you mean?” You were confused about what she meant by she wanted to go there.

“I want to go there for our date.” Chuu’s voice becomes a murmur, embarrassment taking hold. “I want to see you fuck someone.” Chuu turns her head away. “You can go inside and I’ll watch you from outside.”

The idea didn’t quite sit right with you. “Isn’t there something else we could do? It’s supposed to be a date.” Chuu pouts and reiterates her wants. You mull over the idea. You weren’t really interested in being with another woman; it didn’t feel right, especially if Chuu was just going to be watching. “What about you come in with me? If you come in with me, then we can do it.”

“Really?” Chuu asks, surprised that you would make such a deal. 

“Yes, that’s my condition.” 

Chuu jumps at the opportunity. “Let’s go right now!” Chuu wriggles out from under you and jumps on your back. “Date night, date night!” she chants, her grip tightening.

“Well, I guess we don’t really need to dress up.” Chuu climbs off you and rushes to the door; her excitement is almost contagious. She puts on her shoes and goes around in circles, waiting for you to get ready. Once you're out the door, Chuu skips ahead of you, almost dancing, occasionally peering behind to see if you're still there. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Chuu led the way, bringing you inside the building. You were lost for a moment, the entrance being a bit confusing, but you figured out the lobby was a little further in. The man working the front desk was confused at the sight of you and Chuu, but greeted you as warmly as he could. 

“Excuse me, is it possible to get a room?” Chuu asks, her fingers tapping away at the desk. 

“This isn’t  a hotel.”

“We know, we just want to be with someone.” 

“I see, well, if you look behind you, there is a board with our workers for the night. Some are more open to a threesome than others; if you’d like, I can select the worker for you.” Chuu nods along, listening intently. 

“That would be great.” She responds before walking over to the board, looking at the dozens of faces and names. You slip the worker money, which he deposits in the big machine. The worker sucks in a breath as he looks at who’s available. 

“Ah, she’ll be good for this.” He mumbles to himself before selecting a tan woman. The picture used was fierce, giving her something of a domineering aura. As your eyes move downward, you read her name, Hwasa. “There we go.” The worker picks up a card and hands it to you. “Here’s a keycard. Please go to the room written here. It is up the staircase, the second door on the left.” You were surprised how well he knew the building, to the point that he could say that off the top of his head, but Chuu soon stole your attention. You heard the sound of her feet banging against the stairs as she rushed upward.

“Chuu!” You shout before chasing after your girlfriend. She giggles on her way up, the excitement of it all taking hold of her. She rushes to the door, waiting outside with a silly smile on her face. You tap the key card against the door and push it open. On the other side of the door was Hwasa. She had one leg on the bed, the other hanging off the edge. The tan woman was staring right at you both, a hand running up and down her exposed slit. Hwasa wore a short sheer black nightgown, in her position, it didn’t cover anything lower than her waist, not that it covered much at all. 

“Come in,” she groaned in a low, sultry tone. The smirk she held grew wider as she locked eyes with Chuu. “Well, aren’t you a cute one?” She said, stepping off the bed and treading toward her. Hwasa walked around your girlfriend, her eyes eating Chuu up. Your eyes wander along your new partner's body, taking in the valley between her breasts. Her smooth mounds were topped with small brown nipples, already hard and poking through her gown. As your eyes moved south, you noted her small waist and wide hips. Her tanned legs looked longer in a set of black heels.

Hwasa stopped behind Chuu, slipping her hands along Chuu’s waist. One hand went up to Chuu’s chest while the other moved between your girlfriend's legs. “Such a pretty girl. Did your naughty boyfriend here want to have a threesome?” Hwasa teased, her hands lingering against Chuu’s body. Chuu gasped. Hwasa’s touch was electric. 

“Why don’t you tell her why we’re here?” You interject, walking over to the bed and taking a seat. You figured it would be entertaining, if not hot to watch Chuu fumble around in this situation.

Hwasa gave you a slight grin before looking back at the woman who was becoming putty in her hands. “Yeah, tell me why you’re here.” Hwasa’s demand wouldn’t be met. One of her hands slipped underneath Chuu’s panties; her hand was resting against your girlfriend’s slit. Chuu moaned. The situation had turned around on her. She had expected to watch you and Hwasa go at it, but as it turned out, you were watching her. Chuu was losing it, and Hwasa was barely touching her. The tan woman was simply tapping her hand against Chuu’s bare slit, but it still made her moan. “Oh, baby, don’t tell me this is going to be your first time with a woman.” Hwasa’s voice was sickly sweet with her teasing. She squeezed Chuu’s breast, drawing out a moan from her. 

Hwasa chuckled, “You look like you have a lot of energy.” Hwasa glances at you, her grin plastered on her face, “Does she?”

“She has a lot of energy.”

“Great. I just love tiring people out. Let’s move to the bed, baby.” Hwasa nudged Chuu forward, as your girlfriend tried to climb onto the bed, Hwasa pushed a single finger inside Chuu. Chuu’s entire body shivered as the tan woman’s finger curled inside her. “What’s wrong, baby?” Hwasa asks, pretending as if her finger wasn’t knuckle deep inside Chuu. She pushes your girlfriend onto the bed and pulls out her finger, dragging it along her lips before sucking on it. “I have a lot of toys here, and I’ll make sure to have a nice experience.”

As Hwasa climbs onto the bed, she looks over at you, “You don’t mind watching, do you?”

You shake your head, “Go right ahead. Just don’t let her take control, or you’ll be in trouble.” Hwasa chuckles at your answer. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hwasa responds, “Feel free to enjoy the show by the way.” With that, Hwasa focused on Chuu. She stripped your girlfriend down to nothing, looking over her thin body. “You’re such a pretty girl,” she tells Chuu, planting a kiss on your girlfriend’s cheek.

Hwasa placed her hand against Chuu’s slit, listening to the petite woman gasp again. “Relax and let me work.”

Hwasa pushed two fingers into Chuu, curling them inside the young woman as she leaned over and used her tongue against Chuu’s nipple. “So cute,” She commented, hearing Chuu’s moans. “Are you enjoying yourself, baby?” Chuu nodded her head as she whined, her body tingling as she got close to an orgasm. Chuu felt a tightening in her core as Hwasa’s fingers toyed with her. When Hwasa used her palm to rub her clit Chuu was sent over the edge, her body squirming as she came on Hwasa’s fingers. Hwasa laughed at the young woman. “Poor baby came already. Here I’ll give you a treat.” Hwasa pulled away from Chuu, grabbing something from a nearby drawer. Returning to the bed, you see she has a double-sided strap-on in her hand. Hwasa moves slowly, pushing one end into Chuu, drawing a moan from the recovering woman. Once secure Hwasa pulls Chuu into a seated position and turns around, showing off her shapely ass. “Come here, baby,” she orders, bringing Chuu closer. 

“Here, have some fun,” Hwasa said, aligning the toy with her entrance. She pushed her hips back, taking it in. Chuu moaned, her hands digging into the tan woman’s ass. The double-sided strap-on shifted inside her, rubbing her walls. “C’mon baby, go ahead and fuck me.” Watching from the side, you knew what would come soon enough. Chuu wasn’t nearly tired enough to be left in charge. 

You sat back, pleasuring yourself as you watched Chuu ram the length of the toy into Hwasa. The tan woman roared as she felt it smack against her service. You knew she would regret choosing such a toy for this. In a matter of seconds, Chuu began thrusting. They were awkward, holding no rhythm as she figured out how to fuck the older woman. Still, what she was doing was working. Chuu slammed her hips against Hwasa’s ass, moaning as her pace quickened. Chuu could hardly control herself when she got like this. She brought her hand down on Hwasa’s bottom, her flesh jiggling violently as Chuu continued to take her from behind.

You think back about how you warned Hwasa, and now you are watching the results of ignoring that warning. Hwasa was biting the bed sheets as Chuu relentlessly thrust into her. Chuu’s hands were digging into Hwasa’s soft flesh, her body shaking. She was on the verge of cumming and so was Hwasa. She screamed it out, telling Chuu just how close she was. 

Your girlfriend was far too focused on her pleasure to hear a thing. She was chasing her orgasm without thought. Hwasa’s walls clamped down on the toy a moment later, and she cried out as pleasure overcame her. Despite cumming along with her Chuu continued thrusting. She loved being overstimulated, and Hwasa was about to find out. “Fuck wait!” Hwasa moaned, feeling the cock inside her continue to stir. Another orgasm washed over the pair not long after, with Chuu burying herself inside Hwasa. A smile formed on Chuu’s face, it was euphoric, showing her completely lost in the pleasure she felt. Glancing at Hwasa, you could see the tired expression on her face. Her ride wasn’t over just yet, though. 

They’re bodies were sweaty now, hair becoming matted to their skin. “This feels so good,” Chuu moaned, resting her head on Hwasa’s back. She stuck her tongue out, sampling some of the tan woman’s salty sweat. “Let’s go again.” Chuu moans, her hips already moving, her strap-on sliding in and out of Hwasa’s slick cunt. The older woman gives tired moans as Chuu drives her cock deep into her cunt for another round. Hwasa was understanding why you said not to give her control. 

As your girlfriend hammered away at Hwasa’s cunt she had the bright idea to play with her clit. She reached around, moving her fingers in small circles over the sensitive nub. “Ah fuck!” Hwasa cried out, a wave of pleasure hitting her. It was overwhelming her senses. “Harder,” she moaned. The word came out of her mouth without her meaning to say it. Chuu listened, though, and went harder. Hwasa’s rough moans filled the room now. Chuu for her part added more pleasure, reaching to Hwasa’s tits and squeezing one before doing the same to the other. 

Watching the women go at it was like nothing else you had ever seen. Hwasa was being reduced to a toy for Chuu, who had originally wanted to just watch, and was now enjoying herself to another level. After another wave of orgasms, you notice Chuu finally running out of steam, her breathing was heavy, and her thrusts slowed until she left herself buried inside Hwasa, undoing the strap and lying back on the bed. You stay seated, giving them a moment to bask in the afterglow. You chuckle to yourself, even if you didn’t do anything, it was money well spent seeing Chuu enjoy herself so much.

That being said, there was still something that needed to be done. You walk over to the tired pair and flip Hwasa onto her back. “I tried warning you,” you tease, as you grab your cock and rub it against her sensitive slit. 

You push the tip inside, making Hwasa groan. As you look over to Chuu, you tap her stomach. “Chuu, I don’t think you want to miss this.” Your girlfriend stirs, her eyes opening slowly until she sees you grab Hwasa’s waist and slam yourself deep inside her. Chuu’s hand slipped between her legs, rubbing her folds as you took your turn with the experienced woman. 

“Fuck, this real cock,” Hwasa mutters quietly, wrapping her thick legs around your waist as you drive your cock deep into her cunt. You grab at Hwasa’s breasts, their bouncing too hypnotic to leave them alone for any longer. You squeeze them between your fingers, the soft flesh bulging between them. The older woman whimpered as you played with her breasts, groping them roughly as you brought her close to another climax. Hwasa’s moans grew louder, her legs tensing around you as she got ever closer. 

Chuu fingered herself at the sight. It was just what she wanted. She pushed two fingers into her cunt, plunginng them deep into her cunt and rubbing her walls as she watched you work over Hwasa. Her moans were rising just like the older woman’s. Part of her wanted to be involved in the action, part of her wished to just to watch you fuck another woman. Her body moved on its own, and she got beside Hwasa, opening her mouth and latching onto one of the tanned woman’s dark nipples. Hwasa cried out from the pleasure, biting her lip after and holding Chuu against her chest. You lean down and take the other breast into your mouth. With both you and Chuu sucking on her nipple Hwasa was finally pushed over the edge.

Hwasa pushes you in deeper with her legs, your cock rubs against her womb as her walls tighten around you. You give her a small thrust, and cum inside Hwasa, the warmth of your cum spreading across her body. She rolls her head back and let’s out a long moan as she feels your cum fill her. Hwasa’s body shakes, and her walls milk you for every drop. Chuu pulls away from the tanned woman’s chest and etches the sight of your tangled bodies into her mind. You grind against Hwasa until she finally lets you go and as you pull out Chuu takes the chance to watch as your cum flows out of the tanned woman’s slit. Chuu can’t help but play with herself, the sight nearly bringing her to her own climax. 

You grab her, though, stopping her just short of cumming. Before she can question you you pull her onto Hwasa’s tired body, and push your cock into her wet slit. Chuu cums in that instant, moaning loudly before Hwasa grabs her face and pulls her into a kiss. The older woman, despite being tired, works over Chuu as you fuck her from behind. Hwasa holds the kiss, pushing her tongue into your girlfriend's mouth while she plays with her ass. Slapping the firm piece of flesh and leaving her handprint on it. 

You loved seeing the tan woman play with Chuu, and it fueled you. You hammer into Chuu, driving your girlfriend crazy as you trap her between yourself and Hwasa. Hwasa reached back down as you thrust, and moved her hand in small circles against Chuu’s clit. The small woman cried out, the pleasure quickly becoming too much. It didn’t help that she had just cum. Chuu’s voice filled the room, her moans rising as she got closer to her orgasm. “Oh shit!” She yelled out as she came on your cock, her walls gripping you tightly as you continued to thrust. The overwhelming pleasure coursed through her entire body, shutting down her mind as she collapsed onto Hwasa. You came soon after, burying yourself in her tight cunt and filling her just like you did Hwasa earlier. 

You drag Chuu off of Hwasa and collapse next to your girlfriend. Chuu fell asleep in a matter of moments, too tired from the experience. The tan woman runs a finger along Chuu’s chin, “That was fantastic,” she coos. “This little one has so much energy.” Hwasa moaned, sliding two fingers along her slit. “I wouldn’t mind having some more fun like this. Maybe next time we could work both holes.” Hwasa said with a smirk. “Do you think she’d be into that?” You had to admit the idea of Chuu being stuffed like that was hot. It made your cock twitch and Hwasa noticed, reaching over and grabbing your shaft. “So?”

“I’ll talk to her.” You look down at Chuu’s sleeping face, “I think she’ll be into it, though.”

Hwasa chuckles, “I’ll set a date for you two. Just make sure she can take it as well as she can give it. I have something bigger for her.” You’re amused at the comment, but don’t ask further, recovering as much as you can before your time ends and you have to carry Chuu out.

[kxsagi]

*Pokes my head through your window* Good morning, may I request: Blue Lock boys with a Reader who insists they drink the homemade herbal tea she made first thing in the morning.

Characters: Chigiri, Yukimiya, any other characters you want

Because seriously, why did Chigiri or Yukimiya never consider TCM as an option?

“𝐬𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫”

a/n: i think yuki, reo, rin, and sae would def be into tea

ft. chigiri hyoma, yukimiya kenyu, mikage reo, karasu tabito, kaiser michael, itoshi rin, itoshi sae

chigiri hyoma

he blinks at the mug like it insulted his entire bloodline. 

“what did you say this was made of again?” 

you cheerfully answer, “dandelions, licorice root, and love!” 

he only heard “dandelions” and “root.” the love part did not save it. 

drinks it like it’s poison and glares at you over the rim the whole time. 

“you know i already have good hair, right? i don’t need... lawn clippings in a cup.” 

he’s so dramatic. clutches his stomach every time like he’s waiting to collapse. 

but refuses to skip a day because you always beam at him like he just cured a disease after finishing the cup. 

he actually does feel a little more energized. but he will never admit that. 

yukimiya kenyu

totally on board at first. skincare king. tea enthusiast. 

“ah, herbal. nice. did you steep it at 80 degrees?” 

you: “i microwaved it.” 

the betrayal in his eyes. 

drinks it anyway and nods politely with the stoicism of a man pretending he likes your cat’s cooking. 

goes full monk about it – sits cross-legged on the couch, sipping in silence, whispering affirmations like “my gut microbiome thanks me.” 

you find out later he’s been sneaking in a drop of honey every morning to make it bearable. 

“you can’t get mad if it still has the benefits.” 

if you try to make a new blend, he gets suspicious. “... what’s in this one?” 

you: “vibes.” 

mikage reo

very chill about it. the first morning you offer it, he drinks it and goes “interesting.” 

you ask what he means and he just says “tastes like nature with a grudge.” 

he drinks it every day but adds a bougie little mint leaf or lemon slice like he’s in a spa. 

insists you sell it as a “detox elixir” and slaps a mikage corp sticker on your tea jars. 

drinks it with his pinky up. 

convinces nagi to try it once and nagi just immediately lies down on the floor and doesn’t move for thirty minutes. 

reo just shrugs and says “it’s an acquired taste. like kale or emotional vulnerability.” 

karasu tabito

makes fun of you. every single time. 

“you’re trying to assassinate me with twigs in hot water. just say you hate me.” 

gags dramatically. slides down walls. wipes imaginary tears. 

but still drinks it. because deep down he’s a little whipped. 

sneaks in a spoonful of sugar when you’re not looking. sometimes three. 

once asked if he could add protein powder to it and you almost kicked him out. 

starts calling it “witch potion” and “swamp smoothie.” 

“ah yes, nothing like drinking a cauldron shot first thing in the morning. love you, babe.” 

kaiser michael

sips it once. pauses. looks at the mug like it personally betrayed him. 

“this is what you give to your enemies, not your boyfriend.” 

you tell him it helps inflammation. he raises an eyebrow and goes, “it’s inflaming my taste buds.” 

complains every single day but shows up like clockwork for his morning mug. 

mutters under his breath in german. probably insulting the tea. probably insulting you too but in a sexy way. 

insists on a dramatic health report each morning: “vital signs stable. vision slightly blurry. taste buds... gone. but still hot.” 

tries to bribe ness to drink it for him one day. you catch him and double the dosage. 

after a week, he starts posting selfies with #herbalhealing like he’s a lifestyle influencer. 

says he hates it but starts sending you pinterest boards titled “tea aesthetic.” 

itoshi rin

stares at the mug like it personally offended his ancestors. 

you: “it’s good for your immune system.” 

rin: “i’m not drinking grass clippings.” 

refuses for three days straight. you finally wear him down by saying it’ll reduce cortisol/stress. 

he drinks it. expression doesn’t change. not one twitch. you ask him how it is. 

“… it’s wet.” 

dramatic sigh. takes another sip like he’s at war. 

“did you brew this in a pond?” 

glares at the mug the whole time he drinks it. like he thinks it'll grow legs and fight him. 

starts researching each ingredient. one day comes home with a list like, “you know licorice root can raise blood pressure, right?” 

he still drinks it daily. never tells you why. 

you catch him once making it himself when you’re not home. you say nothing. he pretends nothing happened. 

itoshi sae

you hand him the mug with a cheerful “good morning!” and he just stares. 

“why is it the color of swamp water.” 

drinks it anyway. immediately gags like you slipped him poison. 

“is this payback for something i did in a past life?” 

says he’s gonna die every time he drinks it. clutches his throat like a victorian ghost. 

“this is why i don’t eat vegetables. it always leads to this.” 

puts it down dramatically and whispers, “bury me with my cleats.” 

complains for 10 straight minutes, then asks, “… wait, what’s this good for again?” 

next morning: already seated at the table with an empty mug. 

“not saying i believe in your dirt tea, but i didn’t need a nap during my training break today. that’s progress.” 

texts you “bring the juice” every morning like you’re his shady herbal dealer. 

still makes fun of it. calls it “potion of pain.” but you catch him once calling his teammate "weak" for not drinking his girlfriend's tea. 

he’s a silent believer. with attitude. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[heyimkana]

Husband!Jinwoo tries to guess your favorite positions in bed (with demonstrations 😏)

A deleted/alternate scene from Pillow Talk Part 3 but can be read separately.

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo X Female Reader

Genre: Marriage AU, fluff, smut

Content Warnings: dry humping, choking, hair-pulling, dirty talk

Word Count: 4K

“Do you still have more questions you want to ask me?” Jinwoo says, despite his mind already drifting somewhere else. “If you do, then this is your last chance, Angel. I’m afraid I’m starting to get a little… impatient.”

You wish he could just sever it, that last rope that binds him together. And perhaps you can, he’s handing you the knife to do it, after all. But the second you're tempted to do so, a question pops up in your mind. A question that, if he knows the answer, will bring you even more ecstasy than he’s planning to offer you. 

You draw a breath. “Do you, umm… Do you know what my favorite positions are?”

“Hmm?” Your husband tilts his head slightly to the side, digesting your words with his eyes blinking in surprise. “You mean, sex positions?” His lips break into a coquettish smile when he witnesses your little bashful nod. “I thought you weren’t gonna ask anything naughty, Princess.”

Heat pools fast in your cheeks, but you ignore it. “Three guesses. If you get all of them right—”

“—You’ll let me have my way with you right now.” 

He finishes your sentence for you almost in a growl, his patience hanging by a thread. You cower slightly. “Y-your way?”

“That’s right. My way.” He pushes forward on the bed, still keeping you trapped underneath him. “Any way I want”—he presses his knee firmly against your core—“Anything I want”—his hands begin to wander, one palm skating over your chest and stomach from above your nightgown, dangerously caressing your neck—“However I want.” He seizes your wrists and pins them over your head. His face hovers just above yours, his lips twisting in a titillating smirk. “And you’re just gonna have to be a good girl and take whatever I give you.”

You suddenly feel so small and frail underneath him, perfect to be cuddled and ruined. The hunger in his gaze stirs your insides with excitement. “O-okay. Just… remember that I’m pregnant.”

“Of course, baby,” he chuckles, a delightful melody in your ear. “I’ll be so gentle with you, I promise.” 

There’s a hint of devilry behind his tone that convinces you otherwise. He’s going to be gentle, yes, but if there were a limit on what he could do to you, he’d make sure he’d drive you to that very edge. You swallow thickly. “And if you guess it wrong?”

“That’s impossible,” he nearly scoffs, using one hand to hold both of your wrists together as his other one travels down your body. “I’ll get them right, all three of them. But, for the sake of our conversation, I’ll humor you.” He dips his head down to pepper slow, torturous kisses down your jawline as he speaks. “Let’s see… What does my sweet wife want?” The tip of his sharp nose grazes your pulsating vein, his free hand moving back to the aching spot between your legs. “How about I’ll be your slave for a day?”

You shiver, his mouth feels hot and wet against your clavicle. “You… You’ll do anything I ask you to?”

“Mm-hmm, anything.” His tongue traces the hollow of your collarbone, his fingers lightly stroking over your bare core. “I’ll serve you, do everything you ask. You’ll have me completely at your mercy.” 

Fuck, that sounds so good, so tempting. “That’s quite a huge amount of power you give me,” you titter, the sound coming out a little bit strained as he dips his fingers between your folds, rough digits covered by your slick. 

“That’s the point, love,” he smirks against your skin, gently running his fingers up and down your heat, teasing your hole but never penetrating inside. “I want you to have that power over me”—his mouth explores your ear—“I want to be vulnerable”—your neck—“I want to be weak for you”—the valley of your chest—“And I want you”—he gnaws lightly against the underside of your breast—“to control me.”

You squirm beneath him as he keeps your hands tied together above your head, a shot of pleasure permeating you. “C-control you? Why?”

At your question, Jinwoo stops his ministrations, retracting his fingers from between your thighs before he kisses his way back to your lips. “Because I trust you, Angel,” he whispers. “Because I want to give up control to you, even if just for a moment.” He returns the small proximity between you, capturing your stare. “Because deep down”—he releases his grip from your wrists, his gaze softening, filled with the sincerity of the words he speaks—“I crave to be vulnerable with you, to surrender everything to you. All of me. Body, mind, heart, and soul... Everything.”

Your heart palpitates, thrumming in anticipation. The desire to be used for his pleasure still remains, but the need to take care of him, to give him the love and the attention he craves, consumes you just as strongly. Ever since your daughter arrived, you haven’t really gotten the chance to be with him properly, have you? Your undivided attention is some form of luxury he rarely attains, as you are always so occupied with taking care of your child and keeping the house spotless clean. You’re doing an excellent job as a mother, and there’s not a single fraction of his heart that wishes to complain, but… Sometimes, Jinwoo misses the days when it was only him in your mind. You can see that now.

“I’m sorry,” you quietly say, caressing his cheek. “I was so busy being a mom that I forgot how to be your wife.”

“Sweetheart, that’s not true. You’ve done so well, both as a mother and my wife,” he smiles back, leaning further into your touch. “It’s just… Sometimes I want to be spoiled, that’s all. Teased, even.”

The way he only shows this side of himself to you makes you feel proud of yourself, and beyond thankful. “Right. Cause you’re the real baby in the house,” you giggle. “Well then, baby, go ahead and make your first guess.”

The tenderness in his eyes transforms quickly into mischief. “Your first favorite position is…” Without warning, Jinwoo lifts you and flips you over to your stomach. You land face-first on the pillow before you’re yanked back to your hands and knees, your mouth separated in a startled gasp when he pushes his protruding bulge against your behind. “This,” he finishes, his body leaning forward to whisper it in your ear, his right hand pushing up your gown to expose your lower half to him. You can feel it, the outline of his hardening cock pressing firmly against your ass, separated only by the soft fabric of his sweatpants. 

“You love it when I make love to you from behind.” His grip is tight on your hips, his bare torso hanging just a few inches away from your spine. “When I hug you close just like this”—He lays his chest and stomach onto your backside, embracing you with one hand while he props his weight on the bed with the other—“and my hand slides down between your legs like before”—his calloused palm glides down from your stomach to your aching core—“and I touch you here”—his two fingers find your clit—“right where you want me the most”—he rubs them teasingly against your sensitive bud—“while I fuck you deep and slow”—he grinds his hips against you, torturing you with the sensation of having him so close and yet so far. He captures your earlobe between his teeth, giving it a playful bite, his smirk beyond sinful as he whispers, “Isn’t that right, Sweetheart?”

Seeing how your body tenses up, Jinwoo can tell he’s right. He leans back to enjoy the view, detaching his hand from the bed to drag two fingers from your nape down to your back, slowly following the dip of your spine, watching the way you shiver and arch your back from the touch. He removes his other hand from between your legs, ignoring the little mewls you let out as a sign of protest, and placing both hands on your hips.

“Do you know how beautiful your body looks when I take you from behind?” He rams himself forward, his clothed cock rubbing against your folds, itching to just tear apart the piece of clothing that separates you and push inside till he’s buried deep in your warmth. “When you're on your hands and knees like this, your arms trembling each time I thrust inside?” He lets out a low groan when you start to push back, your body helplessly seeking more friction. “Seeing you from this angle turns me on so fucking much, baby.” 

You can’t bite back the whimper that threatens to spill, the sheets bunched in your hands. “J-Jin—”

He suddenly presses down on the middle of your shoulder blades, driving you down the bed, your face glued to the sheets while he keeps your lower half in the air. “You know how much I love being in control, don’t you, Angel?” His breathing has grown labored, but other than that, he seems to still have his sanity intact, unlike you. Jinwoo keeps you pinned to the bed, his hand gripping your nape from behind. “Seeing you take whatever I give you, your back arching for more, so submissive and obedient for me.” He continues to grind against your behind, moving agonizingly slow on purpose. “And not just that… I could also pull on your hair”—he demonstrates his words, the hand on your nape moving up to grab a fistful of your strands—“And hear you moan louder for me when I do.” 

To prove his point, he tugs on your roots, doing it so suddenly, that it robs a wanton moan out of you. His eyes are suffused with lust, his smile filthy. “That’s right, baby. Just like that.” He gives you another hard thrust, one that you know would’ve driven his cock so deeply inside if there were no barriers between you. He tosses his head back, his bottom lip bitten as he swallows his groan. “Fuck, you’re driving me crazy.” 

Just like him, you can feel your body becoming more and more desperate with each passing second. Fueled by so much desire, you’re starting to whimper out his name, your lower half continuously moving on its own, rubbing yourself against him. 

Jinwoo bends down, laughing softly in your ear. “Careful, love. You’re starting to sound a little needy.”

Needy— That snaps you out of whatever magic that bound you before. Irritation flares inside you, and you break away from him, tossing yourself back to the bed, throwing daggers with your eyes. 

Although startled at first, another cocky smile makes its way onto his face as he looks down at you, watching you look all cute and flustered as you lie on your back with a mean scowl ornamenting your pretty face. “Are you angry?” He chuckles, his hand stroking your thigh. “I’m sorry, honey. I was just kidding.” 

“You say that, but you’re just gonna end up teasing me again.”

“Well, when the opportunity arises, yes.” 

You try to kick that shameless grin away from his face, but he only captures your leg easily with one hand, and press a loving kiss on your ankle. “Hey, come on now, don’t be mad.” He brings himself to you, trying to win your heart with his impish, yet romantic smile, his fingers slipping between yours as he cages your body again. Sweet, playful kisses glaze your collarbones, accompanied by the grin that he tries to repress. “Forgive me, Angel.” 

“Whatever,” you snort. He’s not sorry. “You’re mean.”

“Am I?” Your reaction only amuses him further. “Are you upset because I got it right on the first guess?”

“I’m upset because you’re annoying,” you mutter through gritted teeth, but you can't stop the fire from kissing your cheeks because yes, yes indeed, he got it right, and you’re not sure if you should feel ashamed or impressed. “Don’t act so cocky, Husband. You only got one right out of three.”

He smiles at your insistence, finding your stubbornness both adorable and sexy. He runs his hand down your hip, his fingers tracing patterns over your skin. “You’ve got a point, Wife. That is only one of them, but I can tell I’m going to get the rest right as well.”

“God, I wanna wipe that damn smirk off your face.”

“Feisty,” he simpers, growing even more excited. He’s thoroughly enjoying every second of it, loving every bit of your expression. “Since my princess has grown impatient, let’s finish the game quickly, shall we?”

You roll your eyes, but you await his next move. Confidence, or perhaps arrogance, glints in his eyes as he speaks. “I know you like being in charge, Sweetheart, so for my second guess, I’ll go with…” And just as abruptly as before, he switches position. In one swift action, faster than your eyes can follow, Jinwoo rolls onto his back and sets you down above him. Straddling his lap with your legs spread, you fall forward from the sudden movement, your palms pressed flat against the bed to balance yourself, his head trapped in between. “You on top, riding me,” he finishes, still with his goddamn smirk intact.

Just how the fuck did he get it right again?

Seeing you turn flustered, Jinwoo can tell he’s winning the game, but there’s no mockery in his eyes when he reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear, his gesture sweet, romantic even. “I have to say, this might be one of my favorites, too,” he tells you, his gaze turning tender. “The way you look at me when you’re above me… The way you roll your hips, your lips parting as you moan out my name… You look so fucking pretty like this, Angel.”

Your heart flutters no matter how much you try to tame the butterflies inside you. You’re excited, and you can tell by the growing bulge beneath you that he is, too, perhaps even so much more. “Jin—”

“It turns you on, too, doesn’t it, being in control?” he cuts you off with a question, his hand traveling down your side. “Which makes me think… Maybe you’re not so submissive, after all.” His palms now rest on your thighs, slowly gliding up your skin. “Do you still remember that night when we celebrated your birthday together? You were terribly drunk, and I was ready to let you sleep for the night, but you insisted on—what did you say back then—unwrapping your birthday gift.” 

You nearly combust into flames, remembering that yes, I did say that, with your husband obviously being the so-called birthday gift. The memory is a little hazy, blurred by all the wine you’d consumed that night, but you can fairly remember how desperate you were back then, how nee— 

“God, you were so needy that night,” he finishes the shameful thought you hate to admit. “Probably the cutest you’d ever been. You pushed me down to the bed, and climbed onto my lap, clawing against my chest to take off my shirt. No matter how much I told you to stop and take some rest, you didn’t listen. You were so… desperate for me.”

Your cheeks sizzle, shame coating your face. “T-that wasn’t me. That was the alcohol.”

“Oh, I don't doubt that, Sweetheart. But it’s not fair if you blame everything on the alcohol. After all, it didn’t put thoughts in your head, it only made you braver.” His devilish grin returns. “The truth was, you’d been wanting to do that to me for a while, hadn’t you? To dominate me in bed?”

Your heartbeat soars. You can’t deny that it’s true. Seeing him in this position, your eyes roaming over his features and his bare chest, makes you recall all those nights when you embraced the bolder side of you, bouncing on his lap without letting your shame take control. It brought you so much satisfaction seeing him like that, with his eyes turning half-lidded from the pleasure you gave him, the muscles in his abdomen contracting with every grind of your hips, his jaw dropping in a silent groan… It always leaves you wanting more.

But that night in particular… Were you even… wilder than usual? “W-what did I do to you exactly?”

The way his lips twitch into a broader smirk—you probably shouldn’t have asked that.

“Let’s rewind the memory, shall we?” Jinwoo captures your hands, detaching them from the bed. “You put your hands right here”—he places them on his naked chest, letting you remember in detail just how lean, and toned, and just absolutely breathtaking his body is—“And you moved your hips like this…” He settles his own hands on your waist, pressing you down harder against him, making sure you feel him, the contour of his cock and how it twitches under your weight, separated only by the soft layer of his sweatpants. He guides you forward, the slight friction of his fabric against your bare folds sending tremors down your thighs. He chuckles at your reaction, the sound low and breathy as he watches you intently, loving how much this affects you, the way it affects him. 

“And you keep grinding on me like this”—he lifts his own hips to answer you, his grip on your hips tightening a bit as he silently commands you to pick up your pace—“Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and”—a moan escapes him when you start to move on your own, his eyes drooping, filled with lust—“forth… Mm, yeah, just like that.”

He lets you move on your own for a bit, reveling in the moment, your wetness staining his pants the same way his own cock is smearing precum from below. He releases a ragged breath, his nails raking down your thighs. “You didn’t care about me that night, about what I liked, what I wanted. You were just moving to your own desire, making sure you rub your clit against me with each roll of your hips, riding me as if my cock was made for you to use as you please. You were so fucking sexy, baby.” 

Amidst the shame that burns you from the inside, you remember how… full you felt that night with his cock throbbing inside you, and now you feel so empty, your heat clenching around nothing.

Jinwoo detects your frustration, but he dismisses it with a cruel smile. He has his own game to play and he’s nowhere near finished.

“I don’t know if you remember this, but”—he takes your dominant hand in his, curling his fingers around your wrist—“in the heat of the moment, you wrap your fingers around my neck”—he swallows in excitement as he brings your hand to his neck—“and you squeeze tight”—he closes your fingers around him, pressing your palm down on his Adam’s apple—“tighter and tighter”—he guides you to do it harder, clamping your fingers firmly around his pipes until you can feel every constrict his throat makes as he chokes out his words—“Until I—ngh—started gasping out your name.” His chuckles turn strained, his cheeks turning a little flushed. “I could see how much it turned you on, and it aroused me, too. To have you do whatever you want with me…” You start adding more pressure on your own, and he almost rolls his eyes back in rapture. “God, I wanna be under your mercy again.”

“You—” Seeing how brazen he is sets you on fire. “I didn’t know you liked being dominated.”

“I don’t, but I love being with you.” Exhilaration flashes in his eyes, his pupils dilated. “I love whatever you do to me, and whatever I do to you. Seeing you act all submissive and obedient for me drives me crazy, baby, but watching how excited you looked from choking me was a treat for the eyes. And it felt good being under your control. Being used as a toy for your pleasure…” He bites the corner of his lip, his hips bucking up to meet yours. “Makes me so goddamn hard just by thinking about it.”

“You’re so—” You don’t bother to continue your words, choosing to let your hips do the talking for you. You start grinding on him faster, your hips rolling, and it feels so dirty and thrilling to do something so obscene without truly touching him. 

Jinwoo adds his thumb to the game, pressing his digit against your clit, giving you the needed friction. You mewl above him, still aching for more. You feel like you’re missing a part of you, and it’s right there, but you can’t have it. This desperation on your face… You looked like this, too, that night, didn't you? And God, he fucking loved it as much as he does now. Something about you rubbing yourself against his clothed cock like an animal in heat awakens something primal inside him. 

“Fuck,” he chuckles darkly, “You’re leaving stains all over my pants, Sweetheart.”

I don’t care, your mind responds, so much that your tongue sits idle in your mouth instead of forming the words out loud. His voice turns subdued in your mind, muffled by the filthy thoughts of you tugging his pants down to his thighs and driving his length inside you.

Should I just do it?

“Not yet, Angel,” he stops you just before your thoughts can turn into actions, his voice sounding just as breathless as he reads your expression. “Don’t beg for my cock just yet. I’ll make it worth the wait, I promise, but for now…” He thrusts up at the same time he pulls you down, your soft moan intermingling with his in the air at the contact. You can almost feel it, feel the way his hardness teases your ring even through the fabric and it feels so good but far from enough. 

Jinwoo’s eyes shimmer with the same thrill. “Let’s drive ourselves insane and see who crumbles first.”

You want to accept the challenge, but at this point, you don’t mind if you lose. Actually, you want to lose, just to get this fucking over with.

You don’t stop, your body moving more frantically above him with each passing second. One grind of your hips hits just right, and clouds of white start to form behind your lids. You can’t believe you’re coming just from dry-humping your husband like a fucking teenager but you are and he senses it. 

Jinwoo sees the way your body trembles, your movements stutter, your muscles tautening before they begin to unwind. Your fingers tighten around his neck as you drown yourself in ecstasy, and it hurts just the way he wants it. Your grip on him loosens as you slowly climb down from your high, your hand sliding back down to his chest to keep yourself steady.

Jinwoo swallows thickly. It was dangerous, so close. Had you continued to rock your hips a few more times, he would’ve reached cloud nine, too. 

He watches you with a soft smile, catching his own breath as his hand gently strokes your thigh. “Felt good?”

You sit on his lap, your chest rising and falling like the tides. You’re spent. “Yeah…”

“You’ve come twice today,” he titters softly. “And I haven’t really done anything yet.”

You don’t care. He can make fun of you all you want, you don’t give a damn. You’re feeling far too good to pay attention to anything.

Jinwoo pushes his upper half off the bed, keeping you on his lap with one hand around your waist as he leans back with his other hand propped behind him. “Take off your gown for me, Sweetheart.”

Still dazed, you answer your puppeteer obediently, reaching down to grip the hem of your nightgown and pull it over your head. You’re only halfway to doing so when he stops you. “Slowly,” he says, his voice sweet but full of command, dripping with desire. “Tease me, Angel. Make me ache for you more. I know you can do it.” With your heart racing a tad faster, you steel yourself and do as he commanded you to, rising to your knees and stripping yourself bare at an agonizing pace, torturing him with every inch of skin you expose. 

Watching you with a flush creeping across your cheeks, your chest still heaving up and down, your eyes staring back at him with a mix of need and love and a little bit of shyness that you once cast away, Jinwoo releases a heavy breath, carving every detail into his memory. He shortens the small distance between you, tangling his strong arms around your waist, skin rubbing against skin.  “Gorgeous.”

You gaze down at him as he looks up at you, your breasts on the same level as his face. “You… You said that position was one of your favorites.” He hums in approval, placing an open-mouth kiss on your chest. You brush his hair away from his eyes, enthralled by the sight. “What’s your number one, then?”

He smiles at your curiosity, and the way your eyes remain hazy even after a moment has passed. “That’s a secret, Sweetheart. You’ll find out what it is if I get the rest of them right.”

You sigh, your impatience returning. You’ve forgotten that he still has one guess left. “Hurry up and hit me with your third guess, then.”

“Your third favorite”—Jinwoo hooks an arm around your waist, lifts you for a split second before he pushes you back to the bed, settling himself between your legs—“is when I have you lying on your back, legs wrapped tight around me. When you can feel me so deep inside you, and I can taste your lips as I fuck you hard and fast.” He can feel you shiver as he says it, your body so responsive, reacting to his words. His fringe falls over his eyes as his face hovers above yours, a smirk playing on his lips. “I was right again, wasn’t I?”

Three times. Out of all the things you’ve done with him, how did he manage to get all of your favorite positions three times in a row? “No, you got it wrong.”

He raises an eyebrow in amused surprise when you say that, seeing through your lies. “Seems like my princess wants to play dirty tonight. Are you that desperate to have me as your slave? Kinda makes me want to lose on purpose.” 

Your plan to wash off the damn smirk backfires as it only persists longer on his face. “I’m not lying!”

“Your body gave you away, Angel. I saw how you reacted before. You liked it.” He grins roguishly. “And even if I guessed it wrong, once I’m done with you tonight,” he presses down on you, his sensual whisper echoing right in your ear. “I’ll make sure it gets on the list.”

You shudder, quickly succumbing to your defeat. “Fine. You win. What now?”

A Cheshire cat’s smile forms on his face as a sense of victory fills him. It’s about damn time you ask him that question.

Jinwoo tugs the strings on your body once more, rolling you to your stomach until you’re pressed flat against the bed. His hips press down against yours from behind, his hand fisting a handful of your hair and he tugs it back, earning himself a low groan. Deprived of your options as you’re being held still, your eyes land on the standing mirror before you, just the way he wants you to. It reflects you perfectly, showcasing how helpless you are beneath him, the pathetic look on your face—so eager to be touched, and the way his gaze turns dark as it meets your own. 

“Now,” Jinwoo whispers in your ear, keeping your eyes locked with his in the mirror as he smirks. “I get to do with you as I please.”

***

A/N: I had to write down the most basic sex positions ever 'cause I know y'all jinwoo girlies are vanilla af LMFAOOO

btw what do you think jinwoo's favorite position is 👀

[itzpookiepooh]

Saving You

He ran through the hospital dodging anyone in his way. He didn’t have time to talk or ask where you were. The phone call was enough. He was at an art exhibition when he got the heart wrenching news. Thomas was able to get him to come with your help however, instead of you going with him you had to handle something at the association and said you’d meet him there.

Time was moving ever so slowly. He waited and waited for you to appear. Maybe you came while he was talking to the older folks. They did crowd him earlier so who knows? He searched the premises while calling you but no answer so he decided not to get worked up. You were a hunter after all, something must’ve happened. He relaxed and continued his night with you itching at the back of his brain.

This wasn’t like you. No call, no text just Rafayel silently waiting for you to say something. Anything. Thomas rushed over to him all giddy from how tonight was going when Rafayel’s phone rang. He stared at the caller ID in confusion. What did Akso want from him?

That’s when he heard it. His phone dropping from his hands, his stomach twisting as bile made its way through him. His whole world was in slow motion. He couldn’t hear Thomas trying to call out to him nor did he feel him and others try to get him off the floor. His ears muffled and ringing as he tries to process what was just said to him. You were hurt.

You went to the association to sign something Jenna needed your verification on. All was well until the side of the building you were on exploded, an aimed attack. Not aimed at you nor Jenna but both of you hurt. The blast knocked you and Jenna unconscious. Rafayel felt like he could die. The call was vague but urgent not wanting to get into details over the phone. So he ran out of the exhibit and to his car. He couldn’t think of anyone else but you right now.

That’s how he’s here, running through the hospital looking for you. There was an open door as if they just rushed inside. When he turned—there you were arm hanging off the operating table staring at the door where he was with dead eyes. Rafayel hasn’t felt a gut wrenching feeling since he first lost you. The second time was worst and more painful. His legs move on their own towards you.

Nurses notice him and try to hold him back as he snatches himself away from them. Strong holds grabs him trying to drag him out as he watches them try to fix this—fix you. His eyes lock onto your figure as he breaks through holding onto your hand as you give his the tiniest squeeze.

“Please don’t make me say goodbye this time.” He whispers to her before he’s pulled away. As he was pulled away and into a waiting room all he could think of was you.

Hours passed by as he paced restlessly. He hoped and begged you were okay and were gonna make it through. He wanted to vomit, pass out, cry even however, his body wouldn’t allow him to. When the clock struck 3 a doctor came out and spoke with him. Asking him if he was the emergency contact for you and telling him that you were going to be fine.

The explosion caused a lot of blood due to the shattering glass and debris. Your arm was in a sling and your face scratched, and leg wrapped. You were extremely lucky to survive. You were still drowsy from the anesthesia when he went back to see you.

That’s when the tears fell.

He held your hand as he cried. You smiled at him, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand.

“See? Now you don’t have to say goodbye.” You smiled softly, your tone quiet. He stared at you in shock, he didn’t think you heard him.

“Yeah.” He smiled kissing your forehead a few times before placing his on yours, “I’m so glad you’re safe.” He whispers.

I was gonna do you guys so dirty omg…

[multific]

For Every Word You Give Me

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: You’ve always struggled with your stutter, speaking only when you must, trusting only your husband with your voice.

The table stretched long through the hall, glittering with silver and candlelight. 

The meat was passed, wine spilt freely, and laughter echoed off stone walls, too loud, too sharp. 

You felt small in it all. Always had.

You sat beside Aemond, his hand lightly resting atop yours under the tablecloth. 

Your thumb moved slowly across his knuckles, grounding yourself in his calm presence, his heat.

His voice beside you was low and steady, “You look lovely tonight.”

Your lips curled shyly. You whispered back, “Th-thank you.” The words were soft, hesitant. 

But he heard you. He always heard you.

Aemond turned his head slightly, a rare softness in his pale eye. “Only I get to hear your voice like that,” he murmured. “I think I’m the luckiest man in all of Westeros.”

You blushed, squeezing his hand beneath the table. 

You never spoke much, the stutter made it hard, made you ashamed. You had grown used to silence, to ducking your head. 

But with him… you tried. He never looked at you with pity. Only devotion.

Then came Aegon’s voice.

Slurred. Loud. Drunk.

“You know, brother,” he called across the table, “I often wonder if your wife is mute or just terribly slow. The poor girl can barely choke out a sentence without sounding like she’s drowning in her own words.”

Your blood turned to ice.

The table fell quiet. The silence stretched long.

You looked down instantly, cheeks burning, eyes stinging. Your throat ached with humiliation, with all the words you couldn’t say to defend yourself.

Aemond stood up, abruptly. His chair scraped the floor.

“Aegon,” he said, voice low and dangerous, “if you ever speak of her that way again, I will remove your tongue and feed it to Vhagar.”

Aegon scoffed, raising his goblet. “Oh come now, I mean-”

“She is worth a thousand of you,” Aemond snapped. “You are unfit to speak her name.”

You were already moving, tears falling fast as you rushed out of the hall, heart thudding in your ears. 

You didn’t want to be seen. Not like this. You hated how weak it made you feel. How small.

You made it to your chambers and closed the door behind you, chest rising and falling in quick, uneven breaths. You pressed your back against the wood and covered your mouth to muffle your sobs.

Why did it always hurt like this? Why couldn't you just speak normally?

Minutes passed.

Then the door creaked open.

“Aemond,” you gasped, quickly wiping your face. “Y-you shouldn’t-”

“Stop,” he said gently, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Don’t hide from me.”

You turned your back to him anyway. “I d-don’t… w-want you to see m-me like this.”

His arms wrapped around you from behind, firm and warm. He pressed his lips to your shoulder, his voice low against your skin. “You never have to hide from me.”

You shook your head. “I’m… I’m b-broken.”

“No,” he whispered. “You’re brave. Do you know how much strength it takes to speak when the world gives you reason not to?”

Your voice trembled. “You d-deserve someone b-b-better-”

“I deserve you,” he said, turning you in his arms. His eye searched your face with a mix of fury and reverence. “You, who give me your voice when no one else hears it. You, who I would kill for without hesitation. You are mine. And I am yours.”

Your lip quivered. “You r-really mean that?”

“I swear it on Vhagar’s fire, on my blood, on my love for you,” he whispered, cupping your face. “Speak only to me, if that is what makes you feel safe. I’ll carry your silence for the world, and treasure every word you give me.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks again, not from shame this time, but from relief. 

You nodded and leaned into him.

“I l-l-love you,” you whispered, voice fragile as lace.

His breath caught. Then he kissed you, deeply, as if that was the only answer he could ever give.

He pulled you to bed that night and held you until you stopped shaking. You fell asleep in his arms, his hand tangled in yours.

And for the first time in a long time, you dreamed without fear.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[luviisabella]

mind games ۶ৎBNHA UNI.AU

-> katsuki bakugou 🩷

You had him wrapped around your finger.

It started with you two being assigned the same patrol areas, at first in larger groups but eventually it was just the two of you.

He would mumble under his breath but you knew he was more than happy to be paired with you and not one of the other guys.

Per usual, you two were assigned to Shinjuku City for the night. You were surprised reading the chart because usually you had day shifts and before you could question it your thoughts were already answered.

“Mina and Kirishima called out sick, they were supposed to cover the afternoon so they gave it to us”

Bakugou came up next to you scanning the board for anything else you may have missed and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Sick ?” and deep down you knew exactly what that meant, you made a mental note to call her for details later.

—

Once it was 7pm you and Bakugou decided to start heading over. Both of you had a brief conversation with your boss, the lookout was for a guy with what sounds like an interesting quirk who’s been dealing for the LOV.

As the two of you walked down the busy streets you admired the night life. It wasn’t often you went out or saw pretty areas such as this, not unless you were assigned.

Bakugou looked over and scoffed when he saw your eyes wandering in every direction at once.

“We should get something while we’re here”

He looked over at you in surprise.

“What ? We technically don’t start until 9 and are here until 1am so we might as well look around. Maybe we’ll even find him where we least expect it”

He didn’t want to admit it, but it wasn’t a bad idea. Besides.. it meant he could spend more time with you.

You two walked into multiple stores, looking at clothes, jewelry, shoes, and even snacks.

After about an hour you both decided to sit on top of a building and just admire the view.

It was convenient you both had flight quirks, but it wasn’t uncommon to catch you two on a building like this.

If you’re being honest it also helps you scan the crowd from an unexpected distance. Easier to spot who you’re looking for.

You two were both eating mochi, yours was pink and his was orange (the irony), and as the clouds moved to reveal the moon, you couldn’t help but realize how pretty he was.

You stared at him in awe of his looks, you always knew he was good looking, but my God.

“Weird ass” despite looking down he noticed you staring

You frowned, you ignored his words, you just wanted to get a better look.. so you reached over and grabbed the side of his face to turn it towards you.

“The fuck’s your.. problem…” and while he wanted to be mad, he ended up silent.

The look you were giving him sent his heart into shock and your touch was so delicate. He’s never felt anything like that and while he might struggle to admit it, you’re the only one he’d ever let do this.

You softly smile at him, “You do have pretty eyes” and you couldn’t help but fight back a laugh when you felt his face heat up.

He moved his head back, looking back down and trying not to acknowledge what just happened. “Your hands are sticky.” they weren’t, he just didn’t know how to react, let alone say “Don’t let go”.

Despite his ‘cold’ attitude, you knew how he felt, but you were waiting for him to admit it first.

You also looked down and while admiring the view again you noticed something.

“That’s him.” pointing towards the very obvious spot, that ironically being the top of another smaller building.

You stood up and looked over at Bakugo who was already on his feet. No words were set before you both took off.

You both caught him off guard because from the looks of it he was in the midst of a drug exchange, but something didn’t feel right. You had a vague description of the guys quirk and when the villain revealed his hand that’s when you realized.

Past heroes or people that tried stopping him were either in the hospital on meds for temporary paralysis, fever, or were thankfully recovering. It wasn’t injuries, his quirk was venom. That’s why your boss told you to look out for any cuts, bruises, etc. on his body, because he’s been transferring his blood into bullets and using it on heroes.

The villain looked as if he was aiming at you but judging by the smile on his face he knew you caught on and quickly turned to Bakugou.

In a panick you immediately ran to cover him, barely making it in time before the bullet hit your upper arm.

You cursed before looking over, trying to minimize losing sight of the villain but he was already making a run for it.

“We have to-“ shit..

..his quirk. You took a weak step forward before falling to the floor.

“Y/n !” He was internally cursing himself out, by the time you figured out his quirk he did too and was reaching towards the guy before he turned to him.

Bakugou reached down to pick you up, letting your head rest on his bicep as he was talking to you. Except, his words weren’t clear, you could only hear what sounded like a faint voice.

“I can’t move” you were fighting back the pain coursing through your body. It felt like every limb was being compressed and your senses were all blocked. You couldn’t even lift your finger, slowly every muscle in your body began to go numb.

Your nervous system was slowing down.

You were going in and out of consciousness, you could see him calling for backup and when you blinked again he was now looking down at you. The same eyes you thought were so pretty moments ago now looking down at you with fear.

He held you just a little tighter, afraid if he let go you’d fall apart.

“Come on, stay with me… please.”

part two ?

made by luviisabella۶ৎ

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight - Part 24

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 23 | Series Masterlist | Part 25

Chapter Word Count: Over 4.8k

Chapter Summary: You're ready for some answers so you can move forward.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of violence and death, threats, tension, talk of assault, obsession, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight, and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby and @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Natasha didn't say a word after wrapping up the phone call with her sister. Neither did you. What was there to say? Both of you knew Zemo was outside of the club.  As much as you wanted to confront him, it wouldn't be a smart move. Not alone at least. You needed Bucky. 

How would he react knowing you needed him once again?

“You really should try to rest,” Natasha finally spoke. 

“I can’t,” you whispered. It was too overwhelming, your mind too frantic.

“I know it won't be easy to do so and you rightfully want answers, but just try to relax as best as you can.”

It took a moment, but you curled up on the sofa and tried to quiet your mind. Your eyes drifted to the dahlia painting, remembering Bucky’s words. The man was all about loyalty, and he expected you to be loyal to him. You’d give him that. What choice was there?

“May I ask you something crazy?” you asked.

“The question may be more normal than you think, so shoot,” she answered.

“Do you think I could love Bucky?”

Love was about acceptance and understanding, but your situation wasn’t normal. Would it ever be love or a form of Stockholm Syndrome? Were you doomed to accept it at face value, or could you smooth out the path for both of you?

Natasha considered your question. “I think if anyone could grow to love him, it’s you,” she answered, leaning into the cushion herself. “But it should be on your terms, not his.”

Neither of you spoke again after that.

You weren’t sure how much time passed when the office door slowly opened. Natasha moved when you sat up, placing herself in front of you. Was she protecting you because of Bucky or was she looking out for you because she wanted to?

“It’s just me. Well, Ray and Steve are here, too,” Bucky announced, stepping further into the room. Ray and Steve hung back by the door, but both of them looked at you with concern.

Was everyone going to treat you like a porcelain doll ready to break? To be fair, it wasn’t that long ago since your attack. You would’ve looked at anyone else the same way. 

You took in the sight of Bucky once Natasha moved completely out of the way. Gone was his jacket, his hair a mess. Had he changed his shirt? Your eyes searched his and you found lingering darkness lurking. The tension in his shoulders didn’t bode well either. 

He either didn’t get the answers he was looking for or something was still wrong.

“You didn’t sleep, did you?” he asked.

“No,” you answered, giving him room so he could sit beside you. “Did you lose yourself?”

“Not completely. I told you I had you to come back to,” he replied, brushing a kiss to your forehead before looking over his shoulder. “Give us a minute.”

Natasha hesitated. “Zemo is-”

“Outside, I know,” Bucky interrupted, a slight edge to his voice. “Just give us a minute.”

Ray held the door open, silently ordering Natasha to leave. You managed a small smile for her before she left, the shutting of the door sealing more of your fate. “Bucky, what-”

His arms nearly crushed you when he pulled you in for a hug, his face buried in your neck to inhale your scent. Just as quickly as he grabbed you, he released you, like he suddenly remembered what you had gone through earlier and that the sudden touch may have frightened you. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“What?” you asked, telling yourself to relax. He wasn’t going to hurt you.

“He wanted to take you away from me. From your home,” he whispered. You took his hand to inspect it, half expecting to see blood. “You don’t have to worry about me. I cleaned myself up a bit, and I’m fine,” he added.

You hummed, thankful for that as your fingers touched his knuckles. Seeing blood on him may have fried your emotions once again. “What do you mean he wanted to take me from my home?”

Bucky gripped your hand when you tried to pull away and explained what Clark told him- How Clark was involved with Zemo and your instinct regarding the drugging of your friends was correct. How Clark intended to take you to Gotham, giving you a way to start over again away from Bucky. It would’ve put you in another cage. 

Steel blue eyes watched you process the information, a featherlight touch on the top of your hand willing you to take a breath. “He was really going to take me away?”

The thought of being ripped away from your friends, your stability, it made your heart ache. As much as the turn of events in your life terrified you, the city was still your home. If anyone would decide when and if you left, it would be you. Except now you didn’t really have a choice since Bucky would dictate when and if you ever left. 

Bucky’s jaw clenched before he nodded. “He was. He thought he’d be your hero,” he said, practically spitting out the last word.

Clark wasn’t a hero. No hero would’ve done what he did. “But my friends are okay? And Lois, she’s okay?” you asked.

The smile on Bucky’s face stretched to his eyes. “How are you so good?” he asked, rhetorically. “I still need the info on what the driver put in the drinks, but it was likely diluted and they should be okay. Lois…” He took a breath. “She isn’t in great shape, but she’s going to get the best care possible.”

You sighed in relief for your friends and Lois, though it hurt to hear that she wasn’t in the best shape, since she didn’t deserve whatever happened to her. “Thank you, Bucky,” you whispered. Lois wasn’t his responsibility, but it meant a lot to you that he wanted to help her heal. Maybe you could meet her, if only to see for yourself that she would be safe and sound. “What about Cl-”

“Don’t say his name, please.,” he gently ordered. “Whatever happens to him after tonight is still his fault.”

You shuddered. So Clark was still alive. For now. “And Zemo? I want to talk to him.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said softly. You were doing your best to control your temper since you knew he was trying to protect you. “You’ve been through a lot, especially tonight.”

“Partially thanks to you,” you reminded him, making him wince. You didn’t mean it as a jab, but he had to keep that in mind. “And this is my life they tried to mess with. I think I’m owed some answers.”

He sighed. “Kotyonok…”

Maybe it was a dirty tactic, but you ran a hand through his hair and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Nothing too extraordinary or forward, but you heard the swift intake of breath. “Please,” you whispered, needing him on your side for this.

“Fine,” he conceded, turning his head to give you a proper kiss. As much as you knew he wanted to deepen it, he stopped himself. “But you’re staying right by my side, and we’ll speak to him in the VIP area. I don’t want him in my office.”

“If that’s what you want.” It was his club, his rules, but it was a small victory that he gave in.

And once the conversation took place, you could finally try to get some sleep.

“Wait,” he said, stopping you from standing. He didn’t hide the vulnerability in his expression when he uttered, “I’m going to earn your love, and I’m not giving up until I have it. Even when I have it, I won’t stop earning it. Or your trust.”

Your mouth fell open. Where had that come from? Had Clark said or done something to get under his skin? 

“I haven’t earned yours,” you said, needing to say something. You saved his mother, sure, and he felt a connection after seeing and hearing you at his club, but that shouldn’t mean that his love and trust should be given so freely.

“You earned it a long time ago, but I haven’t earned yours,” he said easily, helping you to your feet. “I’ll start tonight once we’re home.”

You fell in step beside Bucky, ignoring the gazes of the group in the hall. “Ray, bring Zemo to the VIP area. Have Ari and Jax behind him. Steve, I want you there with us.”

“And what about me? I’m not leaving her,” Natasha said as she followed.

“This isn’t your concern,” Bucky said, tightening his grip on you.

“You made it my concern when you called me. She made it my concern when she asked me to be here,” the redhead argued. “And my sister is the one who followed him, so I think I have a right to stick around.”

“I think she should stay,” you said. Natasha had gone out of her way to be there for you. It only felt right that she knew what was going on. 

Bucky swore under his breath. “Hang back with Ari and Jax and keep your sister from shooting him.”

“I make no promises that she won’t shoot him,” she half teased before Bucky glared over his shoulder. “But she won’t kill him.”

You tried not to tremble once Bucky brought you to the VIP area. It was strange seeing the place lit up, but with no music or a crowd. You could almost picture Addison and your friends there with you, laughing and having a good time. 

Briefly closing your eyes, you allowed Bucky’s touch on your arm to soothe you. “This is where you were sitting when I saw you on camera,” he said. 

“It’s come full circle,” you said. The area would become another place fully tied back to Bucky. Not because he owned it, but because you would talk to Zemo there and it would be a reminder of what happened to you.

“And soon you’ll be with me in my office, keeping me company, making memories together,” he said, happy in spite of the circumstances. 

Steve placed a bottle of water in front of you. How was it that a man as dark as Bucky looked so kind? “Buck thought you’d want bottled water instead of a glass,” he said, giving you a small smile. 

You nodded in understanding. If anyone had brought you a glass, you wouldn’t have seen them pour it and you may have questioned what was in it. It was… thoughtful. “Thanks.”

Your heart beat too loud when you heard footsteps, your next breath ragged when Zemo walked toward you like he owned the place. Though he looked put together and at ease, you detected the slightest bit of discomfort when he looked your way. You took small satisfaction in that.

Bucky held up a hand before Zemo could take a seat or speak to you. “If you have any weapons on you, I suggest you set them on the table,” he said, skipping the pleasantries. 

Gesturing to Ari and Jax, he sighed. “Ms. Belova relieved me of my weapons, and your men did another search themselves,” he said. You couldn’t see Natasha or her sister with the men blocking your view, but you sensed them watching. “Now may I please sit?”

Bucky waited until Ray stood by your side and Steve on his. “As much as I’d like to beat the ever loving shit out of you, we do need to talk, so sit.”

“As much as I know you’d enjoy that, I’m not here to speak to you.” Zemo turned his attention to you once he sat down and carefully removed his gloves. “I believe I owe you an apology.”

You placed a hand on Bucky’s thigh, hoping your touch would keep him grounded. “So, you’re aware of what happened to me?”

“I do not know the details, but I knew something must have happened since I hadn't heard from Clark or the driver. And I thought if I hadn't heard from them that James either figured out my involvement or would find out soon enough,” he explained, relaxing in his seat. “Better to show up and explain my side than wait to be dragged in for questioning.”

It surprised you how easily he gave up that information. “I was attacked,” you stated, avoiding Bucky's gaze.

You didn't expect to see sorrow on Zemo’s face. “Where is he?” he whispered.

“Where do you think?” Bucky asked.

The man nodded. “Though I’m not the one who laid hands on you, I am sorry for encouraging Clark.” He shook his head wearily. “I warned him not to lay a hand on you in harm, but he was not one of my usual men, and I must admit I miscalculated this plan.”

“What was your plan exactly?” you asked. Did it align with Clark's plan?

“I wanted James to lose you,” he replied, stating the obvious. “James knows most of my men and he would've caught on if I sent one of them to spirit you away. I thought Clark was enough of an outsider to stay under the radar and convince you to somehow, some way, walk away from your new boyfriend.”

Of course, it all led back to Bucky. “He broke into my home when I refused to go with him and he attacked me,” you said, proud that your voice didn't crack. 

“He was going to rape her,” Bucky said through his teeth. The rage in his eyes was frightening, so you squeezed his thigh. He had to stay calm. 

If Zemo looked sorrowful moments ago, now he looked sick. He recovered quickly. “You must believe me when I say my intention was never for anyone to attack you.”

“But you still knowingly or unknowingly sent some sort of predator to woo me? That's supposed to make me feel better?” you asked. Did he have any shame?

Zemo sighed. “I fear nothing I say will make you feel better.”

“No, it won’t. Everything that happened is going to stick with me, and your apologies aren’t going to alleviate any of the pain,” you said, breathing a bit easier when Bucky put his hand over yours. “Not to mention, it still doesn’t make any sense to me. He came into the shop once a month and until recently he had a girlfriend. Now he stalks and attacks me? Why?”

Zemo tilted his head, amused by the question. “Why did James stalk you?”

Bucky stiffened under your touch before he began, “That’s not-”

“Clark likes to believe that he isn’t like James or I or any of the other men here, but he isn’t a good man either. He has darkness like so many of us and he didn't need much of a push to go after you.” Zemo shrugged. “Your rejection may have been the final push to bring out his darkness.”

Bucky reached for something in his pocket. “If you’re blaming my girl-”

“I’m doing no such thing,” Zemo promised, his hands raised in surrender.

Bile rose to your throat anyway. “Really? Because it sounds like you’re saying that my rejection drove him to this.” How could he blame you for Clark’s actions?

“Your rejection was a tipping point, but it wasn’t your fault,” he assured you. It didn't make you feel any better. “His facade slipped and he showed you who he really is. It is troublesome that I did not notice how far he would go before you were put in harm's way.”

“Because you let whatever hatred you have for Bucky blind you,” you accused. What other explanation was there?

“Perhaps you are right.” Zemo swallowed, but didn’t spare the man beside you a glance. “But as much as I hate him, I still did not intend for you to get hurt.”

“Why does it matter if I'm hurt?” you asked. It wasn't like any of them cared for your opinion regarding your own life. 

“Because it wasn’t about harming you. I just wanted James to be without you,” he admitted without shame. “I wanted him to lose the thing he cherished the most, that’s all.”

You exhaled. He wanted to destroy Bucky. Not through his club, his money, or anything of that sort. Zemo wanted to destroy him by removing you from the equation. 

“It wouldn't have been enough if I took you myself,” he continued. “No, I wanted him to see you thrive with someone outside of our circle. To show him money and power can't buy him what he so desperately desires. I wanted him to suffer knowing how happy you were without him.”

Bucky audibly exhaled, anger rising in both of you. “That's insane,” you whispered. Another puppet master trying to control the strings of your life. “And you really think that Bucky would have allowed that?!”

Zemo finally looked at the club owner with a blank expression. “I’d like to think James would give you anything that would make you happy. That if you truly found happiness with another man, he would let you go. Even if it killed him.”

You almost crawled into Bucky’s lap when you thought he’d stand up. “There will never be another man,” he gritted.

“He won't let me go. You have to know that,” you said, uncaring of who nearby heard it since they knew the truth anyway. “My freedom is the only thing he won't give me.”

“Is it really love if he won’t let you go?” Zemo asked. 

Bucky made a sound like he got punched. “I love her,” he stated, turning toward you. “I love you.”

“I know,” you whispered. He believed so desperately that he did. “Zemo, even if Bucky let me go, do you really think I could give my heart to someone else knowing he will always watch over me?”

If there was even the slightest chance that you’d ever leave him, you’d forever look over your shoulder and wait for him to drag you back. 

“Bruce Wayne wouldn't let the likes of James into his city,” he said. 

Bucky had mentioned the name Bruce to you in his office. You hoped you never met him. “And if he went to Gotham anyway?”

“I wanted to believe that he would start off watching. That if there was a moment where he could swoop in and take you back he would, but would ultimately resist. That over time, it would hurt him too much to keep his eye on you and he would have eventually let you go.” The smile on his face unnerved you. “Your rejection of Bucky and choosing someone else would destroy him from the inside out. He would fall, and his empire would fall with him because why would he want to rule without you by his side?”

“She isn't rejecting me, and I’m not letting her go. Ever,” Bucky spoke for you, that stark possession shining through. “Our souls are entwined. She’s meant to be with me forever.”

A scowl crossed Zemo’s face. “I loved someone like that once.”

“And you lost her,” you said. He lost his wife, and his child. “If revenge was something you wanted, why not just kill me? An eye for an eye.”

He sighed, picking at one of his gloves. “I thought about killing you with my bare hands. To watch the life leave your eyes,” he said, dispassionately. 

Your eyes widened when Bucky got to his feet and took out a knife. Ray tried to shield you when you jumped up, but you grabbed Bucky’s arm before he could move. “Bucky, please, don’t,” you begged. Hearing that Zemo had wanted to kill you scared you, but he was unarmed and you didn't want more blood shed because of you. 

“Listen to her, Buck,” Steve urged. 

“I’m done talking and listening, and I’m going to slit his fucking throat for even thinking about killing her,” he growled. He was going to kill him if you didn’t stop him. And Zemo… He didn’t move. He didn’t flinch or try to move away. Did he want to die?

“Boss?” Ray questioned. If Bucky ordered it, they would kill him. You had no doubt in your mind.

“Please,” you whispered, putting your hand over his so he’d lower the knife. “He could’ve killed me, but he didn’t. He didn’t even want Clark to put a hand on me,” you pointed out. Zemo’s thoughts shifted at some point. That had to mean something. 

“Because the more I thought about it, I realized that you’re a victim, too. Innocent. Another soul tainted by the Barnes family,” Zemo said, making you think of his family again. They were victims. “Death may set you free from his grasp, but I suspect death is not what you're looking for or what you deserve. Killing you wouldn't have brought me peace either.”

It was clear that he was in a lot of pain and projecting it onto others, but killing you wouldn't have filled the void in his heart. “What happened with your family?” you asked. It wasn’t just collateral damage. It was enough to drive him to this.

“Oh, James didn’t tell you?” The scowl was back on Zemo’s face. 

“She doesn't know the whole story,” Bucky said after a moment. 

Your nails dug into his hand. “You said he blamed some of the men you worked with for what happened.”

“Oh, I do blame them and James because it was their fault. They heard about a deal that I made with some dangerous people that would’ve made us all a lot of money. James didn’t like that, so he tipped off the police.” You could see Bucky and Steve hang their heads briefly out of the corner of your eye and Ray blinked a few times, but their shame didn’t lessen the fury in Zemo’s eyes. “For retaliation, these men took something priceless from me- my wife and child. And they didn't just take them. They made them suffer before they died.”

Tears filled your eyes. You couldn’t help it. It was an innocent woman and child. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are.” He looked touched, but it didn't outweigh his anger. “But you see, if James didn't call in that tip and his men hadn't informed him of the deal in the first place, my family would still be alive.”

You glanced around through your tears. No one spoke, but you saw the guilt. And it made sense why Bucky said they were lost in a deal gone wrong, but he left his part in it out of the story. Was it to protect you or himself? “They didn't deserve what happened to them,” you said. No one deserved that. 

Zemo blinked, erasing the ghosts behind his eyes. “No, they didn’t. And I can’t change the past or bring them back.”

“Neither can I,” Bucky said, touching your cheek. He looked hesitant, like you’d hate him for this. “I should’ve told you the whole story. I’m sorry for that.”

But Bucky hadn’t. He hadn't lied, but he hadn't told you everything. It was another hurdle to get across. “So, where do we go from here?” you asked. You weren’t going to continue to be a pawn in their game. 

Bucky still had his knife out. “I want to kill him, but I can’t,” he said, grinding his teeth. You raised an eyebrow. That would be another conversation for later, but you suspected it had to do with their shady politics or whatever they dealt in. “But I also can’t let this go.”

“You want to retaliate,” Zemo said. 

“Yes,” Bucky said. He wanted blood. You could practically smell it. 

“No. No retaliation,” you said, looking at all of the men. “I mean it.”

Bucky’s nostrils flared, but one more glance at you and he nodded. “No retaliation for now.”

“I’m in your debt,” Zemo said not to Bucky, but to you. It surprised you to say the least. “Name your price.”

All eyes were on you and it made you feel faint. You couldn’t be weak since you were in this world now. “You paid the driver to turn on Bucky?” you asked, waiting for him to nod. “Whatever you paid him, I want you to double the amount and donate it to the hospital. The wing that Winifired Barnes stayed in.”

Bucky inhaled, gazing at you like he fell in love all over again. “Kotyonok,” he said thickly.

“And Lois, Clark’s ex-girlfriend. I want you to cover her medical expenses, and throw in a little extra so she can recover in peace once she’s out,” you said. It was the least the woman deserved. 

“Done,” Zemo agreed, a smile touching his lips. “Is there anything else? Perhaps your own flower shop? The things you asked for aren’t for you, but for others.”

“Because that’s the kind of person she is,” Bucky proudly said, slipping an arm around you. “And if anyone’s going to get her her own shop, it’s me.”

“Please, stop with the dick measuring contest,” you said. Even when it was about you, they made it about themselves. Regardless, the truth was you didn’t want anything from Zemo, except for him to leave you be. “Just leave Bucky and me alone, and anyone close to me. If you two have to work together, fine, but don’t interfere with our lives,” you said. 

“And that’s it?” he asked. 

“That’s it,” you replied. You didn't need much, but you deserve a bit of peace from one of Bucky’s enemies. 

“You have my word.” Zemo slipped his gloves back on and stood up. If he didn't keep his word, you were sure Bucky would make him pay. “But I still owe you a debt. When you’re ready to cash in, James can tell you how to get in touch with me.”

Bucky finally put his knife away. “I still want to kill you and I still have questions for you,” he said. You should’ve known he wouldn’t be satisfied, but at least no blood was shed in front of you. “Because you had no right to go after my girl.”

“Be thankful she’s still alive and beside you,” he said with subtle longing. “Truce? Perhaps we can talk next week and bury the hatchet for good? No retaliation. You agreed.”

Bucky didn't offer his hand. Just a smile without any semblance of warmth. “Next week,” he said, his fist flying before you could blink. You gasped when Zemo stumbled back and clutched his jaw. It took him a moment to straighten up, a mark already forming on his face as he lowered his hand. He didn't look at all surprised by the punch, and he was lucky his jaw wasn't broken. “Now get the fuck out of my club.”

“I appreciate your compassion, and I look forward to your call one day,” Zemo smiled at you through the pain. “I truly am sorry for what transpired,” he added in a sincere tone. 

You nodded, not accepting or rejecting the apology, and slowly exhaled while Jax and Ari led him away. He hadn't gotten his revenge, but at least it was over. You had answers. Maybe you’d sleep easier. 

Maybe not. 

You finally spotted Natasha in the distance standing beside a blonde woman. That must be Yelena. And neither of them looked impressed as they stared after the man who put Clark in your path. 

“You sure I can't kill him?” Yelena asked. 

“I appreciate the offer, Yelena, but not today,” Bucky said, turning toward you. Why did he look nervous? Was he expecting you to scream? Hit him? “Are you okay?”

You buried your face in his chest before you could stop yourself, and he took the opportunity to hold you against him. Were you okay? No. But you’d heal. You had to. “I will be.”

But was it really the end of Zemo? What kind of favor would he do for you? Would you take him up on any sort of offer after everything?

“I’m sorry, too. For all of this,” he whispered low enough for only you to hear. “But now we can move forward together.”

Bucky sounded like he wanted to close this chapter and move on, but it wasn't up to him to turn the page. It was your decision. “I might stumble along the way.”

“I'll catch you,” he promised, pulling away and taking your hand. “Are you ready to go home?”

You weren't sure if you’d ever be ready, but you had to believe this chapter of your life was over. Zemo would leave you alone. Clark wouldn't hurt anyone else. It had to be enough for today. 

You could figure out the next step tomorrow. 

“Sure,” you whispered, letting Bucky lead you away. “Let’s go home.”

A moment to breathe. Maybe? I view this as an ending (not the story, I wouldn't do that to you lovelies) and a beginning. Eager to hear what you think will happen going forward! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[inkedinshadows]

And Soon They Were Three

Pairing: Cassian x f!reader

Summary: You're waiting for Cassian to come back home and give him news that will change your lives.

Warnings: fluff

Word count: 1.5k

Main masterlist | Week Masterlist | Cassian Masterlist | AO3

@sjmxreaderweek

You were fidgety, unable to keep your hands still for more than a minute. If you sat down and tried to calm yourself, all it took was a quiet sound—a leaking faucet, a bird singing outside, hurried steps on the street—and you were up and on the move again. Every noise made you think Cassian was about to open the door and walk in, even though you knew it wasn't him.

He'd told you the night before that he would leave early and come back late. He was already gone when you woke up, but a blueberry muffin was waiting for you on the kitchen table, like every time he had to leave before you got up. He still refused to tell you where he got them from.

But that morning, the usual delicious fragrance made you race to the bathroom before you could even step into the kitchen. Fortunately, it passed quickly, and you dared to attempt a bite, only to devour the muffin once you realized you felt fine. It was your favorite flavor, after all.

The day went by quickly, yet not quickly enough. You had an appointment with Madja in the morning, and since then, you had been counting down the minutes until Cassian's return.

You cleaned the whole house, but it wasn't enough to dim your excitement. You tried to read, but you couldn't focus on the words and had to reread the same page four times before you gave up and opted for a stroll along the Sidra. It didn't help much, though, and you spent the rest of the afternoon alternating between pacing aimlessly and sitting for only a few seconds at a time until you decided you might as well start making dinner.

Right at that moment, you heard the click of a key turning in the lock and the front door opened.

“Sweetheart, I'm…”

You didn't give Cassian time to even finish the sentence before you raced out of the kitchen and straight into his arms.

“...home,” he finished with a chuckle as he hugged you back. He kissed the top of your head. “Hello, sweetheart. Did I miss something? Or are you just really happy to see me?”

You pulled back, a large smile plastered on your face. “I have to tell you something.”

Cassian lifted his brows. He took in your expression and the excitement that seemed to radiate off you in waves.

“Well,” he said with his usual confident, charming smile, “at least I know it's good news.”

At your enthusiastic nod, he gave you a questioning look. “Are you going to tell me or…?”

He left the question hanging, and you immediately grabbed his hand and guided him to the couch. “I think you'll want to sit down for this.”

You could sense his growing curiosity as he sat on the edge of the couch.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “So what is it?”

You stood in front of him, and suddenly, all the ways you had planned to give him the news were gone, completely forgotten, as you blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

Cassian stared at you for a moment, then his eyes slowly widened. “Wait, what?”

You had thought of different puns and jokes to tell him and let him figure it out on his own, but it was too late now. You only nodded and repeated it, a wide grin on your face. “I’m pregnant, Cass.”

His shocked expression was soon replaced by a huge smile, as if hearing it again was all he needed to truly understand what you were saying, to be sure that you weren’t just messing with him.

He lunged forward, almost tackling you to the ground in the process of wrapping his arms around you and spinning you around. His boisterous laugh rang loud in your ears, but you could only laugh with him.

“I’m going to be a father!” He peppered your face with kisses, his stubble tickling your skin. “Can you believe it, sweetheart? We’re going to be parents!”

You were about to answer that no, you couldn’t believe it. Madja had confirmed it that morning, and though you had been—and still were—overjoyed, it still didn’t feel real. After all the time spent trying, it was finally happening.

But Cassian's excitement had reached a whole new level. He didn't give you time to respond as he set you back on your feet—your head slightly dizzy—and a moment later, he was at the window. He yanked it open and leaned out, his wings folded but still as wide as the frame.

“I'm going to be a father!” he shouted to the world outside. “My mate's pregnant! We're going to be parents!”

“Cass…” you chuckled, eyes soft and heart full as you watched your mate shout his joy to anyone passing by.

“What?” He turned back to you and in just two long strides, he was at your side again. He cupped your face and pressed a loud kiss to your lips before pulling you into his arms. “Oh, this is wonderful! Parents, sweetheart. Can you believe it?”

You covered the broad hand he’d placed over your still-flat stomach with yours.

A baby. There was a baby slowly growing inside you right as you stood there—one you and Cassian had created, one you had wished and waited for, for so long. And now, in just a few months, the wait would be over, and you would finally be able to hold your baby. Your child.

The more you repeated it in your head, the more it began to feel real.

“Barely,” you finally answered. You looked up at him, meeting his loving gaze as you both smiled. “I’ve never seen you this happy, my love.”

He seemed to almost vibrate with joy, and he was more beautiful than ever. Your mate, your love—and soon, the father of your child.

“Of course I am,” he replied instantly. “We’ve wanted a child for so long, and now the Mother has blessed us with one.”

Taking a step back, he knelt in front of you. His hands settled on your hips, and he leaned in close, lips brushing against your shirt.

“Do you know that, little one?” he murmured. “We can't wait for you to arrive.”

Your heart was so full of love for the male in front of you that it felt like it might burst. There couldn't possibly be enough space in your chest, or in your whole body, to contain all of it.

“Cass…” you said quietly. You buried your fingers in his hair, gently stroking it as tears welled in your eyes. “I don't think the baby can hear you yet.”

Cassian shrugged. “I don't care. I want them to know that they are already loved.”

His mouth was so close to your shirt that you could feel his warm breath through the thin fabric as he added, “You hear that? Mama and Dada already love you, little one.”

He lifted the hem of your shirt, just enough to press a kiss to your bare stomach before rising again. His grin faltered when he noticed the tears now rolling down your cheeks, but you smiled at him.

You looped your arms around him and leaned up to kiss him. It was gentle, tender, an attempt to show him just how much he and this moment meant to you, though you knew no words or gesture could ever be enough.

“I love you,” you murmured when you pulled back and rested your head on his chest. “You're going to be a great father.”

His arms wrapped around you, squeezing you against him. You felt his lips press to your temple, then your hair.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he whispered as he tucked you under his chin. “And I'll try. I'll try to be the best father I can for our child. I promise.”

You wanted to tell him that he didn't need to promise anything, that he didn't even need to try. He was already so good with children. He'd be even better with his own.

But the words slipped away.

All you could do was breathe in the moment and let the realization slowly settle.

You were pregnant. You were going to have a baby. You were about to have the family you and Cassian had always dreamed of.

You'd have to tell your families, you knew that. And the next months wouldn't be perfect or easy. But for now, you could just enjoy the beginning of this journey with the person you loved the most.

You snuggled closer to Cassian, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent—the one you had come to associate not just with him, but with home. He held you tighter, his heartbeat a steady, soothing rhythm against your ear.

The two of you stood in the middle of the living room—a home that would soon be filled with even more love.

*lovely divider by @slytherin-pen

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[missmaymay13]

complete mess - w.smith

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

w.smith x fem!oc | 3k

masterlist

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

The rink is cold. Not just the kind that stings your nose and cheeks—this cold is bone-deep. Lonely. The kind that settles in your chest and makes your heart feel hollow.

Will leans against the boards during warmups, his stick clutched loosely in one gloved hand. The San Jose Sharks crest weighs heavy on his chest tonight, heavier than it ever has. He should be proud—rookie year, NHL dream realized, playing on the biggest stage in the world.

But all he feels is empty.

Because when he glances up at the stands, he knows she's not there.

She used to be. Every game. Every practice, when she could swing it. Always in that same hoodie—his hoodie—her coffee clasped in both hands like it was the only thing keeping her warm. Or grounded.

April Murray. The girl who knew him before all of this. Who sat with him through draft night, who helped him pick out his first apartment, who walked him through his first panic attack when the pressure of being Will Smith, top pick, future of the franchise became too much to breathe through.

And he let her go.

No—he pushed her away.

He doesn't even remember when it started. Maybe it was after the third game of the season when the headlines started turning. Promising, but inconsistent. Maybe it was when the media began comparing him to players he'd grown up idolizing, asking why he wasn't already there yet. Maybe it was the fourth night in a row he stayed late watching film, trying to be everything for a team that didn't even know how to support him back.

He started canceling plans. Ignoring her texts. Tuning her out when she tried to talk to him about anything not hockey. He blamed it on stress, on timing. On things she couldn't understand.

But she did understand. She always did.

And eventually, she stopped trying.

"Will, I'm not asking you to give it up," she'd said once, quiet and careful. "I just need to know that I still matter to you. That we still matter."

He'd scoffed. Cold. Tired. Empty. "I don't have time for this right now, April."

"Right. You never do."

She didn't cry. Not in front of him.

She just left.

He thought she'd come back. She always had before.

But this time—she didn't.

It's been three weeks since she moved out. Since she left her key on the counter and didn't say goodbye.

And Will? He hasn't scored a point since.

The team says it's a slump. A rough patch. The media calls it nerves. Rookie inconsistency. But Will knows what it really is.

He's a mess without her. A complete f*cking mess.

The kind that can't be taped over or fixed in the weight room. The kind that doesn't go away with a win.

She was the only thing keeping him grounded, keeping him human. And he treated her like a footnote to his career.

Now he's skating on autopilot. Eating alone. Sleeping in a bed that feels too big and too cold. Going home to a condo that still smells like her shampoo and can't be aired out, no matter how many windows he opens.

After the game, he sits in the locker room long after the others have cleared out. His head in his hands, the sharp scent of sweat and gear clawing at his throat.

His phone is on the bench beside him. A message unsent. It's been there for days.

"I'm sorry. I miss you. I don't know who I am without you."

He doesn't send it. Because it's too little, too late.

And maybe she's already moved on.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Will used to call her his "safe zone." Not to her face—he didn't know how to say that kind of thing back then. But she was. Every time the weight of being Will Smith, the phenom, got too heavy, he'd end up at her off-campus apartment. No questions. No lectures. Just soft music playing from her speaker, ramen on the stove, and her voice cutting through the noise like sunlight through blinds.

It didn't matter that she had three midterms the next day. Or that she'd been pulling double shifts at the campus bookstore just to make rent. When Will called—she answered.

Always.

The first time he cried in front of her, he was sitting on her tiny futon, head in his hands, the pressure of the Frozen Four and NHL scouts looming over his shoulders like ghosts.

"I'm not ready," he'd said. "Everyone thinks I'm ready, but I'm not. I don't even know who I am without hockey."

April didn't try to fix it. She didn't tell him he was wrong or feed him the same lines his coaches did. She just crawled in beside him and pulled his head into her lap, running her fingers through his curls until the shaking in his chest finally stopped.

"You're still Will," she whispered. "You're still mine."

And for that night, it was enough.

She missed her sister's wedding to fly to Denver for the Hockey East semifinals. She called in sick to her internship when he had food poisoning and was throwing up between classes. She sat in hospital waiting rooms when he got concussed freshman year—even though no one would tell her if she was "family."

She was. She always had been. She just never needed the title.

And what did he do when he finally made it?

He forgot.

He let the weight of the NHL chew up his time and spit out his patience. She became background noise—until one day, she was gone, and the silence was deafening.

Now he walks through his condo like a ghost, brushing past memories like cobwebs. Her hoodie still hangs on the coat rack. Her mug is still on the counter. The photos are still framed on the mantle—Boston, Denver, Nashville.

She was always there.

Until she wasn't.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

The worst part wasn't that Will forgot their anniversary. Or that he left the pasta she made untouched on the counter three nights in a row. It wasn't even that he stopped texting goodnight.

The worst part was how he used to care.

Back then, it was little things.

Him dropping off coffee before her 8 a.m. class. Reminding her to eat during midterms. Crawling onto her dorm bed with his laptop open just so she wouldn't feel so alone during late-night study marathons.

"I'll quiz you," he'd offer, head on her stomach, eyes fluttering half-shut from practice. "Just don't make me read the long-ass definitions."

She'd laugh. Toss a pen at his forehead. He'd grin like she hung the stars.

That Will—the one who saw her, who wanted to take care of her too—that's the one she fell in love with.

But the version she followed to San Jose? The one that let hockey consume him? That Will barely remembered she existed.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

She tried to be understanding. God, did she try.

He was under pressure. Rookie year. Big expectations. So she didn't say anything when the late practices turned into full nights at the rink. Didn't complain when he forgot to call. Didn't show him the tears after another solo dinner eaten over the sink.

She told herself it was just a phase.

He loved her. He was just overwhelmed.

So she picked up the pieces. Of him. Of their life. Of herself.

Every rescheduled date, every night he stumbled in hours after midnight with nothing but apologies and excuses—she forgave.

She was fighting her own battles too. Online school had been brutal. Isolation made it worse. Her professors didn't care that she lived on Pacific Time. Her friends were all back in Boston. She'd built a whole life there—one she gave up for him.

But she didn't tell him. He already had too much on his plate.

So she swallowed the words every day until they burned holes in her chest.

Then one day, the letter came.

She almost didn't open it—thought it might be another bill or course notice. But her hands shook as she peeled it open.

"Congratulations. You have fulfilled all requirements for graduation..."

She reread it six times. Finished. Done. Four years of work in two and a half. Through COVID. Through relocations. Through loneliness.

She looked around their apartment—no, his apartment—and realized he didn't even know she'd been close. Hadn't asked. Hadn't cared.

The excitement turned bitter in her mouth.

So she did what she never thought she would. She packed a bag. Called the one person she knew would understand.

Grace.

Will's sister picked her up from the airport that night.

Neither of them spoke for the first five minutes of the drive. Then Grace reached over and took her hand.

"You should've told me sooner."

April's voice cracked. "I didn't want to make you pick sides."

"I would've picked you anyway."

April didn't leave a note. She didn't need to.

He wouldn't have read it.

And to this day, she knows he still doesn't understand.

He knows he pushed her away—knows he f*cked up—but he doesn't know what day it was. Doesn't know the meaning it held. Doesn't know that he missed her biggest moment—because he never thought to ask.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

The air was crisp. Familiar. Healing.

April stood in her cap and gown, surrounded by the people who mattered. Grace. Her old roommates. Her professors. People who saw her, celebrated her, even when she wasn't holding anyone else up.

They took a photo.

Grace posted it later that night.

"Proudest sister moment. Congrats to April for finishing her degree in record time. You're everything and more."

April's smile in that photo was real.

She never saw Will's reaction.

But Grace did.

And she never took the post down.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Will wasn't even looking at Grace's Instagram when it happened.

One of the rookies was scrolling beside him on the team plane, laughing about some TikTok when he paused and went, "Yo, isn't this your sister?"

Will looked over.

And there it was.

April. In a cap and gown. Grinning, radiant, unrecognizable—in the worst way.

"Congrats to April for finishing her degree in record time."

The words blurred.

Four years. Two and a half. She never told him.

He didn't even know she'd finished.

Didn't know the day she left was the day she got that letter.

Didn't know anything.

His stomach twisted into knots.

And worse—Grace knew. His own sister knew and never said a word.

The next few days, Will couldn't get the image out of his head.

She looked so proud. So sure of herself.

So gone.

His hands shook every time he picked up his phone, hovered over her name. But he never hit send.

When Grace and the family came to San Jose for a home game, it started civil.

Until it wasn't.

It was after dinner. Everyone had gone back to the hotel except Will and Grace. The air was stiff, sharp with unsaid things. Grace stood at the window, arms folded, jaw tight.

Will broke first.

"You couldn't tell me?" His voice cracked. "You let me find out on fcking Instagram*?"

Grace turned slowly, face hard. "You didn't exactly ask."

"Are you serious right now?" he snapped. "She graduated, Grace. I didn't even know she was close!"

"And whose fault is that?"

His hands clenched. "You knew. You picked her up from the airport and didn't say a word. That's—" he choked, voice rising, "—that's a betrayal."

Grace's eyes burned. "No, Will. You betrayed her."

The silence cracked like glass.

"You think I wanted to keep it from you?" she spat. "I had to pick up her pieces because you left her so f*cking shattered she couldn't breathe without crying."

Will staggered back like she'd punched him. "Grace—"

"She used to be everything to you," Grace pushed forward, voice shaking. "She gave up her life, her school, her friends—for you. She didn't ask for much, Will. Just to be seen. Just to feel like she still mattered."

"She did matter," Will argued, weakly.

Grace laughed, bitter and cold. "Then why didn't you act like it?"

He couldn't answer.

"She didn't tell you how hard school was getting," she continued, relentless. "She didn't tell you how alone she felt. You stopped asking. You stopped caring. She cooked you dinners you never touched. She sat alone in your apartment every night waiting for you to come home—hoping you'd remember she existed."

Will turned away, chest heaving, blinking hard against the sting in his eyes.

Grace wasn't done.

"She left on the day she got her graduation letter. You didn't notice. You didn't text. You didn't even call."

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I didn't know—"

"Exactly," Grace snapped. "That's the problem. You didn't know. You didn't even try to know."

Will dropped into a chair, like the weight finally hit him. Hard.

"She won't go near a rink," Grace added, quieter now. "Not even to watch me coach. She says it makes her sick. You make her sick."

Will stared down at the floor.

"She loved you so much, Will. And you broke her."

The room buzzed with silence. A silence full of anger. Of grief. Of truth.

Will couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The guilt closed around his chest like a noose.

He wanted to scream. Cry. Take it all back.

But the past didn't give do-overs.

That night, he didn't sleep. He sat in the dark of his condo, scrolling through old photos, old texts, old videos.

April in Boston. April on the beach. April half-asleep in his hoodie, laughing at something he'd said off-camera.

He didn't even know that version of her anymore.

And she sure as hell didn't know this version of him.

He was a complete mess. Without her. Because of her. Because of him.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Three Years Later

The Boston air smelled like old memories. Like the streets they used to walk, fingers laced between them. Like the rain that had soaked their jackets on late-night campus runs. Like the laughter that once echoed through the Smiths' home when everything still felt whole.

Will was back, older now. Calmer. The NHL didn't rattle him anymore. He'd weathered the pressure, the slumps, the spotlight. But no matter how far he came in his career, he never quite got over her.

He didn't even try.

He never fell in love again. How could he, when no one else even came close?

Grace's engagement party was loud—too many people packed into their childhood home, voices overlapping, champagne flutes clinking. Everyone was glowing, buzzing with joy.

Everyone except Will.

His chest had been tight the entire night, breath caught just under his ribs. Because she was here.

April.

She hadn't changed—at least not in the ways that mattered. Still graceful without trying, still holding herself with that quiet strength. But she was sharper around the edges now. More careful with her smiles. Especially when they were aimed at him.

She didn't look at him the way she used to.

He spent half the night trying to catch her eye. Half the night staring at the empty spot next to him at the dinner table where she should've been. Where she used to always be.

And the other half? He spent wondering if she hated him.

He caught glimpses of her—drifting between rooms, helping Grace in the kitchen, laughing softly with people he didn't recognize. But every time he inched closer, she slipped away. Like a ghost. Like muscle memory.

He almost gave up.

Until he saw her again—alone—in the kitchen.

She was restocking a bowl of crackers, hands moving mechanically, a furrow in her brow like she was willing herself to focus on anything but the memories pressed into these walls.

And then she froze.

She didn't need to look. She felt him.

Will stood in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets, voice barely above a whisper.

"Can we talk?"

She didn't answer right away. He thought she might say no. Thought she might walk past him the same way she had all night.

But finally, she gave a small nod. Reluctant. Steady. And without a word, they climbed the stairs—like muscle memory.

His childhood room looked exactly the same.

Posters on the wall. Hockey trophies collecting dust. The twin bed still creaking under the weight of too many conversations never finished.

April sat on the edge, hands resting in her lap. Will sat across from her, just barely touching the opposite end of the mattress. The space between them felt like a chasm.

He couldn't look at her at first.

Couldn't even breathe.

He wanted to say so many things—had rehearsed them in the mirror, in hotel rooms, on empty plane rides across the country. But now, nothing came out.

Until—

"Congratulations," he said quietly. "I never got to say it to you. Not on the day. Not in person. But... I want you to know I'm so proud of you. I was then. I still am now."

April's eyes flicked up. Just barely.

He kept going.

"I don't know how I f*cked up so much that I let the one thing that was always so good to me slip away. But god, April. I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve any of that."

His voice cracked.

"You were always there. Always. And I—I took that for granted. I let the game chew me up and spit me out and I just... I let you disappear without ever realizing what I was losing. And by the time I did—it was too late."

He finally looked up. She was watching him.

Tears welled in her eyes, but she didn't cry. Not yet.

"I replay that year in my head all the time," he whispered. "And I think about everything I missed. Everything I should've seen. The way you kept trying. The way you kept choosing me. And I didn't even see how much it cost you to do that."

His hands trembled in his lap.

"I should've asked. I should've noticed. And I didn't. I didn't even know you graduated until I saw it on Grace's f*cking Instagram. And I should've been there. For that. For all of it."

The silence between them buzzed.

Then April's voice, soft but sure:

"It's okay, Will."

He blinked.

She was staring at her hands. Then she looked up.

"I used to think it would never stop hurting. That what you did—what you didn't do—would follow me forever." She paused. Swallowed. "But I grew up too. And I see it differently now. We were young. You were drowning. And I was too scared to admit that I was, too."

She looked down again, her thumbs rubbing circles over each other.

"You hurt me. A lot. But... I know you didn't mean to."

They stayed like that for a long moment.

Then slowly, like gravity pulled them together, they leaned forward. Their foreheads touched, eyes closed. Breathing in the moment. The years. The ache.

His voice came out like wind through a cracked window—shaky, fragile, but certain.

"I still love you so much, April. I never stopped. And I'm sorry I did that to you."

He felt her inhale, felt her hands twitch against her thighs. Then:

"I still love you too, Will."

It wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic. It didn't need to be.

Because even after all this time— Even after all the distance— They were still in sync.

[devilish-cherry]

choso relationship headcanons pt 2 ♡

ᨳ♡₊➳ choso x reader

ᨳ♡₊➳ crack, fluff

ᨳ♡₊➳ part one

ᨳ♡₊➳ me, not posting content for months: 🛌💤

also me the second choso crosses my mind: 🧍‍♀️💻🔥

i abandoned you all for two months but crawled out from under my rock at the call of my choso thirst alone. brand consistency is on point. nature is healing. please accept these headcanons as a humble offering before i crawl back into my hole. 😌🖤

₊⊹. choso's idea of waking you up gently is hovering over your sleeping form silently, staring until your soul feels his presence, and you wake up in sheer terror. "good morning," he deadpans, genuinely puzzled by your startled gasp. "were you dreaming badly?"

₊⊹. choso insists on watching those overly dramatic soap operas with you because his memories vaguely recall his vessel's grandma watching them. now he's deeply invested in the plot. you find him dramatically yelling at the tv, "do not give him the rose, mari! he betrayed your trust!" if you miss an episode, he's like, "i have updates. you will not believe who betrayed who."

₊⊹. he's surprisingly good at video games once he learns them, but is personally betrayed whenever your animal crossing villagers move out. you find him softly murmuring to your switch, "was my hospitality inadequate?"

₊⊹. choso discovered cooking tutorials on youtube exactly once and now he's committed to mastering japanese cuisine. unfortunately, it usually ends up with rice burnt to the bottom of your favorite pan. he always looks so earnestly distressed, blinking at the scorched remains, "this isn’t how chef kenichi said it would turn out…"

₊⊹. once he found out houseplants increase serotonin, your apartment basically turned into a botanical garden. he gets emotionally attached to each plant. you swear you've caught him softly reassuring a succulent, "you are doing well. keep photosynthesizing."

₊⊹. he knows how to use chopsticks, shake hands, and make a dentist appointment, all thanks to his vessel, but he has never emotionally processed any of those things. he does them like he’s cosplaying a civilian. that’s why he answers the door for the delivery driver by simply saying, “greetings.” and then doesn’t move to take the bag. just stares. the driver glances at the food, at choso, back at the food, like maybe this is a very elaborate mugging. you quickly jump in and handle the transaction while choso whispers to you, “they were unusually tense. suspicious?”

₊⊹. choso genuinely thinks the "don't talk to me until i've had my coffee" mugs you bought ironically mean you require silence in the morning. so every dawn, he sits in complete silence next to you, handing you coffee with reverence like you’re some ancient deity who must not be angered.

₊⊹. he knows how laundry works, in theory. but the first time you ask him to handle it, he somehow ends up washing your whites with a vibrant red hoodie. now everything you own is pink. he looks at you, tilting his head slightly. "pink suits you. i improved your wardrobe."

₊⊹. he doesn’t fully get sarcasm, so when you joke, "wow, love that for us," after you both spectacularly burn dinner, he nods sincerely, "i also appreciate our unified failure." he eventually adopts your sarcastic sense of humor but misses the delivery entirely, resulting in gems like, "oh great, another sunny day. precisely what we needed." completely serious, staring at a cloudless sky.

₊⊹. he tries to cheer you up by sending animal videos he discovers online but sends you bizarrely intense wildlife survival clips instead. "look, love. it's a meerkat narrowly escaping death. inspiring, isn't it?"

₊⊹. your first time visiting a pet cafe was his personal awakening. now, whenever he's stressed, you inevitably end up at the local cat café watching him silently commune with the cats. "they understand," he assures you while cradling a grumpy-looking cat named 'pancake'. "we should consider joint custody of this cat."

₊⊹. he knows what a “joke” is. he even knows the formula. set up → punchline → laughter. but when he tries to tell one, it’s like watching someone who read about humor but has never experienced it. he also always forgets the punchline halfway through and solemnly finishes, "i'm sorry. this was supposed to be humorous."

₊⊹. choso likes to hold hands, but doesn't quite understand when it’s socially acceptable. you once ended up awkwardly holding his hand while explaining to your landlord why the sink was broken, choso calmly beside you, fingers entwined, giving zero context.

₊⊹. choso tries texting you once, but doesn't understand emojis. you receive an ominous message: "Come home. 🔪🍅" and spend the entire day convinced something horrifying awaits you. turns out, he just wanted help cutting tomatoes.

₊⊹. choso believes firmly in quality cuddle sessions. he doesn't ask; he merely strategically drapes himself nearby until you notice and concede. you finally ask why he doesn't just say he wants cuddles, and he blinks slowly. "that seems aggressive."

₊⊹. choso finds diy tutorials online and tries them secretly to surprise you. spoiler alert: he’s hilariously bad at them. you've come home to questionable-looking clay mugs, half-painted canvases, and one very strange knitted... something. he presents each with absolute sincerity, "it is handmade. by me."

₊⊹. he randomly gives you head pats but doesn’t understand the social nuance, sometimes patting your head gently during serious conversations. "this is comfort." he declares, clearly satisfied with himself.

₊⊹. you once sarcastically called him “my strong little man” after he carried a heavy grocery bag. this man did not talk for an hour. he was processing. he sat down with a glass of water and said, “i am not little. but i am... yours.” you almost choked.

₊⊹. choso is basically your shadow in public places because he learned from his vessel's memories that partners stay close. sometimes so close he accidentally steps on your heel repeatedly. if you ever ask him for more space, he just blinks, totally deadpan. "i am ensuring your safety."

₊⊹. one day, you jokingly said, "ugh, i’d marry whoever does the dishes tonight," and you've never seen choso move so fast in his life. the plates nearly shattered from his enthusiasm alone.

₊⊹. if you ask him to pass you a towel while showering, he reaches into the bathroom with his eyes dramatically shut tight. his determination to respect your privacy while also being helpful is ridiculously endearing.

₊⊹. despite his perpetual resting bored face, choso genuinely believes everything you do is incredibly cool. you open a tricky jar? "incredible strength." you manage to fix the wifi router? "unmatched technological prowess." he looks at you like you're simultaneously beyoncé and albert einstein incarnate. it’s honestly adorable.

₊⊹. sometimes, he stares at your shared life, photos, plants, mugs, and mutters to himself, “i never thought i’d have this.”