#like he goes from having a cocky grin to 'you mean the world to me' and 🥺🥺🥺😭👀

[queenofwands89]

Quiet Affections

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Pilot!reader

Summary: After her friends tease her about Jake having a crush on her, Y/N reflects on certain memories that make her question whether there might be some truth to their playful jabs.

Warnings: Teasing, pining, Jake being a sweetheart, Y/N being oblivious, insults aimed at Y/N, protective Jake, mention and description of injury, anxiety, doubts, fluff.

Notes: Happy Friday, everyone! We made it! 🎉 I just hit 2,500 likes on here and wanted to thank each and every one of you who liked, reblogged, or commented on my works. It means the world to me. I’m down bad for Jake, and need him badly so I wrote this. Enjoy byeeee

You find yourself deep in the heart of the Hard Deck, the familiar hum of chatter and clinking glasses forming a comforting backdrop. Rooster, Natasha, Javy, Bob, Reuben, and Mickey are clustered around the pool table, laughter spilling freely as they take turns making shots and throwing jabs. Jake had just excused himself to go to the restroom, but not before brushing a lingering hand against your shoulder and whispering something that made you smile. This action set off a chain reaction of teasing directed at you.

"Y/N, you know Hangman’s got a huge crush on you, right?" Rooster's mustache twitches with a sly smile as he lines up for his shot.

You laugh it off, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh please, Bradley. Jake? No way. He's just... nice."

Rooster and Natasha exchange glances before Natasha cocks an eyebrow at you. "Nice? Hangman is many things, but nice isn't the first word I'd use. Unless he’s talking to you," she remarks, tapping her cue stick against her palm.

Bob, always the quiet observer, chimes in. "He's got a point though, Y/N. I've seen how he looks at you."

You can't help but roll your eyes. "I'm just completely unaware of it," you say, sarcasm dripping from your voice. "You guys are ridiculous."

Mickey grins, his boyish charm lighting up his face. "Maybe, but can you really deny the way he's always got your back?" he asks, leaning casually against the pool table.

Your first instinct is to rebut, but as their words settle in, you start to think about some of the things Jake had done for you. Not just the grand gestures like saving your hide in aerial combat, but the small, everyday things. The way he'd always save you a seat, bring you coffee exactly how you like it, offer subtle words of encouragement when you doubted yourself.

Javy steps forward, his competitive spirit twinkling in his eyes. "You're telling me you haven't noticed how he always goes out of his way to make sure you're okay?"

Reuben, good-natured but always vigilant, nods in agreement. "Hangman's not exactly an altruistic guy, Y/N. But for you? He'd go to lengths he wouldn't for anyone else."

You crack a wry smile, determined to stay firm in your denial. "He's just protective. We're teammates."

Natasha had already joined in, her voice warm yet teasing. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N. It’s not just about being teammates. He genuinely cares.”

In the ensuing silence, you can't help but ponder on their words. Jake "Hangman" Seresin is charismatic and assertive, traits forged from his exceptional flying skills and competitive nature. But beneath that cocky exterior, there lies a heart incredibly loving and caring, willing to sacrifice anything for his loved ones. Slowly, you find yourself drifting into a vivid memory, reliving the countless cherished moments and experiences you've shared with Jake.

You recall that evening at the Hard Deck vividly. The bar was buzzing with the usual chatter and laughter, the hum of camaraderie filling the air. You were amidst your friends, enjoying the rare downtime when an unfamiliar voice cut through the noise—this stranger making an offhand but cruel remark about you. The comment was subtle, yet it stung deeply, rooting you in place with a mix of shock and mortification. Your cheeks burned under the weight of the ridicule, words lodged in your throat.

Before you could muster a response, you felt Jake's presence beside you, solid and reassuring. He stepped forward, placing himself between you and the offender. His usual easy going demeanor was replaced by a steely resolve, his eyes dark with anger. "Do us all a favor and think before you speak," he said, his voice steady but carrying an unmistakable edge.

The bar fell into an uneasy silence as Jake’s glare pinned the offender in place. "If you've got a problem with Y/N," he continued, his voice low and unwavering, "you’ll be dealing with me."

The tension hung in the air, thick and palpable. The offender, unable to match Jake's intensity, muttered an apology and slunk away, deflated. The moment passed, but the impact lingered. Jake remained there a moment longer, ensuring the threat had fully dissipated before turning back to you.

As he met your gaze, the hardness in his features softened, replaced by a gentle concern. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You okay?" he asked, his voice filled with a tenderness reserved just for you.

You felt an overwhelming wave of gratitude, the initial embarrassment giving way to a profound sense of relief. Jake had stood up for you without a second thought, his protective instinct leaving no room for compromise. In that moment, you knew you were safe, not just physically but emotionally, knowing Jake had your back. His touch and the concern in his eyes reassured you even more, providing a solace that words alone could not.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

Then there was the night when you couldn’t sleep, tormented by insecurities that gnawed at the edges of your mind. It was long past midnight, and you found yourself seated on the deck of the aircraft carrier, trying to get some fresh air to clear your head before the mission. The vast expanse of the ocean and the cool night breeze did little to quiet the whirlwind of self-doubt swirling inside you.

The stars dotted the sky like tiny beacons, and the waves below gently lapped against the ship's hull, but none of it brought you peace. You wrapped your arms around yourself, tense and lost in thought, barely noticing the sound of footsteps approaching.

Jake emerged from the shadows, his silhouette becoming clearer in the soft glow of the ship's lights. He paused when he saw you, his brow furrowing with concern. He looked around, ensuring no one else was around, before walking over to you with determined but careful strides.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice breaking the solitude with an edge of worry.

You hesitated, feeling foolish for bothering him. "I…I just can't stop thinking about everything that's been going wrong. I don't know if I'm cut out for this, Jake."

Jake's eyes softened, and he lowered himself to sit beside you on the cold metal deck. "Tell me more," he said gently, coaxing you to open up. His voice was so steady, so soothing, that you found yourself pouring out all your fears and anxieties—the relentless pressure, the fear of failure, the nagging feeling that you weren't good enough. With each word, you felt a weight lifting from your chest.

Jake listened without interrupting, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by an unwavering focus on you. His eyes never left your face, and his expression remained kind and attentive. "You know what I see when I look at you?" he said quietly once you had finished. "I see someone who's brave, who fights every day to be better, who cares deeply about others. You're stronger than you think, Y/N. Don't let those doubts control you."

His words felt like a balm to your soul, soothing the raw edges of your insecurities. When he reached out to brush a stray tear from your cheek, the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes melted away your remaining doubts, leaving you wrapped in a cocoon of reassurance. Sitting there on the deck, under the endless sky, you felt profoundly grateful for Jake's unwavering support and the strength he helped you find within yourself.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

You also remember the time when you injured your ankle during a training exercise. You had insisted on limping back to your quarters, trying to maintain your independence. But Jake wouldn't hear of it. He had scooped you up without a second thought, cradling you in his arms as if you weighed nothing. "I've got you," he murmured, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic gentleness. The entire trek back, he kept you engaged in light-hearted banter, ensuring your mind stayed off the pain.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

And how could you forget the morning he had brought you coffee? Not just any coffee, but a complex, personalized concoction—an oat milk latte with a shot of caramel, a pinch of cinnamon, and a dash of nutmeg, and no foam. You hadn’t even mentioned it to him before. "Thought you could use a pick-me-up," he had said nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But you knew the effort he had put into remembering such a detailed order, and it made your heart swell with an unfamiliar warmth.

These memories play in your mind like a cherished montage, each moment a testament to the man beneath the bravado. Jake "Hangman" Seresin wasn’t just the cocky pilot everyone else saw. He was a protector, a confidant, a friend who cared deeply for you, even if you had been too blind to see it before.

Returning back to the present moment amidst the lively ambiance of the Hard Deck, surrounded by the warmth of friends and laughter, you notice Jake returning from the restroom. As your eyes meet, his familiar smirk emerges, but this time there’s a tender softness in his gaze that you hadn’t noticed before—or perhaps, hadn't allowed yourself to see.

“Miss me?” he jokes, sliding back into the chaos of pool cues and friendly banter.

You chuckle, shaking off the speculative thoughts. “Like a bad habit, Seresin.”

But later, as the night winds down and the camaraderie ebbs into a quieter hum, you catch yourself glancing his way more often. The teasing remarks of your friends aren’t so easily dismissed anymore. And as Jake catches your gaze across the room, you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, they might be onto something.

Because sometimes, the most significant realizations are the ones that had been right in front of you all along, masked by the comfort of friendship and the chaos of duty.

You smile to yourself, feeling an inexplicable warmth. Maybe it was time to see what was beyond the camaraderie, to delve into the possibilities of what if. The thought lingers, like an unopened letter, waiting for the right moment.

For now, you return to the laughter and games, but with a new awareness, a curiosity that couldn’t be easily shaken. One thing was for sure—things were going to get interesting.

-

Text divider credits: @bunnysrph

[fictionallyinparadise]

Sometimes I think about Sully going from sarcastic shithead to the softest man ever and I cry /pos

[mediumgayitalian]

Plink.

“Psst, hey! Nico!”

Plink. Plink.

“Nico! You up?”

Plink.

Plink plink plink. Plink —

“What in the world,” Nico hisses, yanking open his window, “is going — oh.” He blinks. “Will?”

Will grins. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighbourhood,” he says, voice not nearly quiet enough for someone who is at direct risk of being devoured. “Thought I’d drop by. Can I come in?”

If Nico were smart, he would say no, actually, it’s like four in the godsdamn morning, go the hell back to your cabin. What is wrong with you.

Instead, he says, “We live in the same neighbourhood, dweeb-face, this is a camp,” and opens his window all the way. Will grins at him, wide and glinting in the dark, and yanks himself in head-first, somersaulting onto the floor and staying there, sprawled on the polished marble floors.

“Hi,” he says again, grin shifting into something more crooked.

Nico breaks away, hiding a smile with rolled eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s ridiculous to want to see you?”

“Before dawn? Yes!”

“Aw.” He settles against the ground, tucking his hands behind his head and letting half lidded eyes trace over Nico’s form, over the sleepy shape of him. Nico shivers. “I was awake, you know. I dreamt of you.”

Cool the fresh hell down, Nico screams at his brain. Out loud, he says, “Shut the fuck up,” and ignores Will’s snickering. How dare he, honestly. For someone who gets clowned as often as he does he is not nearly humble enough. Apollonian genes, indeed.

“What, you don’t dream of me?”

When Will lies, his throat swells up and he breaks out in hives. Nico is at the top of the leaderboard for getting the reaction out of him, with Cecil at a close second and Kayla no slouch in third place. Will is highly manipulable. It’s a good time for everyone around (even Chiron, who is, to his own irritation, lumbering behind at spot #42).

Nico, however, has no such holdups. Nor is he inclined, at any point in time, to fluff up Will’s ego, no matter how he looks when he’s cocky. Nico has self control. Mostly. (Well, at times.)

“Of course not. My subconscious would never do that to me.”

“You’re mean to me, di Angelo.”

“You like it.”

Nico watches, fascinated, as Will’s loudmouth snaps right shut; as his face burns sacred cow right in the low light of the cabin, as he squirms.

“Oh,” he says, gleefully.

“Can it, di Angelo —”

“Oh ho ho ho —”

“I’m gonna curse your ass with haiku disorder, do you know what that is, ‘cause I’ll show you, dickhead —”

Nico crouches down and pokes Will hard in the cheek, and he doesn’t even flinch — he just goes redder. Nico guffaws.

“Dude! Have some — dignity, oh my —”

“Shut up! Shut up! You’re so horrible, gods, I am leaving —”

“Oh, come here.” Will is dragged easily from the windowsill, because he is a big fat faker. There are actual claw marks on the infirmary door from the last time Austin brought Nyssa to drag him out.

“I don’t wanna stay where I’m unwanted,” he laments, bouncing on the bed when Nico shoves him. He takes the inch Nico gives him and burrows deeply under the blankets, throwing a melodramatic hand over his eyes. Nico rolls his own eyes, hoping if he rolls then hard enough Will can tell regardless of whether or not he’s looking, and crawls in after him. He makes sure to kick him at least thrice. “I can take a hint, you know.”

“Medical arts were the wrong career path for you. It’s not too late, you know. I’m sure you could shadow Nicholas Cage or something —”

“I am going to kill you with hammers —”

Nico evades gus clumsy attacks with ease, snickering as he pins him to the bed, smirking when he gives up fighting with a huff.

“I’m glad you came when you couldn’t sleep,” Nico says, after a moment for them to catch their breath. “But the point of that agreement is for you to then shut the fuck up and sleep. Here. So.”

“I’m trying,” Will grumbles. “But you’re being mean and it’s crushing my soul. How am I supposed to sleep with a crushed soul?”

“Oh my gods.”

“Okay, okay! Put the pillow away, jeez, I’m sorry. Meanie.”

Nico rolls his eyes again, settling down next to him. Will takes longer to settle, because he’s annoying, but right before Nico is ready to smack the shit out of him again, he calms down, burrowing stilling once he’s turned on his side.

“…Thank you.”

“Whatever, goober. Go to sleep.”

The smile is obvious in his voice. “Goodnight, Nico.”

“Goodnight, Will.”

“In the morning can we —”

“Goodnight, William.”

“Okay, okay. Night.” He pauses. “Love you.”

Nico shoved his grinning face into his pillow. “Love you too.”

[misctf]

Don't know if you still want requests but I grew up playing good old american football so I naturally have bulked way up and become so big but now I'd like to play soccer. Can you help me get from football bulky to soccer lean?

You jogged back to the side-lines, high-fiving your teammate as they ran out to take your place. The whistle blows, and you watch as the game resumes. If you told your younger self you’d be trying to play soccer, he would’ve laughed. As your dad said, you were born to play American football. And years of training your body left you bulky and muscular. At 6’2” and 230lbs, you’re a beast. But since graduating college a few years ago, you found it hard to get back into football. Most of your colleagues were into soccer and your company’s team played weekly.

“You should play.” Jake from accounting said.

“Nah, not into that kinda stuff.” You initially replied. You weren’t some twinkle-toed foot fairy. You played football. A real sport.

But you eventually caved. You figured you needed some more cardio in your life and connecting with your colleagues a bit more couldn’t be that bad. You just didn’t figure how much you were going to love it. Or how bad you’d be at it. Your coworkers patted you on the back after you failed to complete a pass. They reassured you it was okay when you accidentally scored on your own goal. And you eventually figured you just didn’t have the body or stamina for the sport. But you weren’t a quitter.

You’d never heard of the Jock Exchange Program until an ad popped up on your screen one evening. You read closely, becoming absolutely fascinated. An app that gives athletes the chance to try out a new sport. An for app those who feel they dedicated themselves to the wrong sport. The process is simple. Match with someone and meet at one of their facilities. Easy enough. You set up your profile, snapping a picture that highlights your bulky, muscular form. And after swiping through a few possible swaps, you match. The guy’s name is Dylan. Just turned 19, blond, lean, and played soccer all his life. He’s a bit young, but he reassures you he’s okay aging up a bit if it means he gets a chance at playing American football.

And a few day later, you’re at the facility. It was the first time you met Dylan. He was certainly shorter and younger than you. A confident, cocky grin etched on his face. You agreed to a 1 month swap, just to see how it goes. You and Dylan sign the papers. And before you knew it, electrodes were hooked up to your head. And then everything went black.

When you awoke, the world around you felt a big larger. You raised your hand and gasped. It was smaller, hairless. The skin young and not weathered by the years. You grab a mirror and look closely at your handsome face, blond hair, and tanned skin. You can’t help but chuckle. It felt so odd. So foreign. Yet it was yours all the same. You eventually got ready and said goodbye to Dylan, who was clearly enjoying his new larger frame. And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back at your old body. You were never much of a narcissist, but god you looked good. You blushed when you felt your new cock chub up a bit. Returning home, you had the chance to really appreciate your new form. The lean, hairless muscle a far cry from your bulkier form. The confident, cocky smirk reminded you of all those asshole jocks you used to play with. This kid probably got a lot of action, you figured.

The next few days were largely normal. You went to work, having to explain to everyone your situation. But afterwards, you had the chance to really shine on the soccer field. Your lean form moving expertly, performing moves you didn’t even know were possible. Jake comes up to you afterwards, slapping you on the back and commending your new skills. And again, the oddest feeling passes through you. When did Jake get so attractive? I mean, he was a good looking guy. Just out of college- really gorgeous smile. And his stubble was a sexy addition to his chiseled face. You even notice the sweat dripping down his shirt. And his manly musk causes your dick to stir. You never had thoughts like that before, yet all you could do was stare dreamily at him.

“Hey, you good?”

“Uh yeah, bro.” You say, “I...” You pause and give him a confident smirk, “Just wondering what you’re doing after this, man.” You say. Images of him fucking you cross your mind and you’re lost in a horny daze, “Wanna head back to my place?”   

He gives you an odd look and asks if you’re okay. Using a name that you don’t think quite sounds right.

“Uh, name’s Dylan.” You say. He raises an eyebrow and in that moment, you snap back to reality, “Oh shit, uh sorry Jake. I need to go!”  You quickly part ways, your mind trying to make sense of what just happened. Just a blip, you figure, nothing to worry about.

But as the days continue to pass, you’re starting to recognize these issues aren’t improving. Your performance at work declines. Tasks you knew how to do with ease are taking much longer and are done incorrectly. At the same time, you’re constantly horny. The hormones raging in this younger body- consuming your every focus. And one night, while you’re browsing porn sites, you realize straight porn isn’t doing it for you. Without much thought, you navigate to a gay porn site you know you’d never heard of, and find a video. And for the first time, you jerk off to gay porn, moaning the entire time. Completely lost in the bliss.

The next day, you don’t even go into work. In fact, you don’t really recall what you do for work. Weren’t you in college? And who’s apartment was this? But a voice is telling you this isn’t right. You can barely recall aspects of your old life. And you realize in terror that these thoughts aren’t your own. You quickly call the help desk for the Jock Exchange Program and tell them what’s been going on.

“That was part of the risks, sir.” They say, “Sometimes, remnants of the old person’s mind remain. And in some cases, will overwrite the host.” They clear their voice, "Not to alarm you, but once an overwrite occurs, it may be impossible to rectify."

“Overwrite? Impossible?” You ask, the panic in your voice evident, “How do I stop this?”

“We can initiate an emergent transfer back to your old body. Can you tell us your name?”

“Dylan Conners.” You say, shaking your head, “No, it’s Dylan Conners.” Your eyes widen and you realize you can’t even remember your old name. In a panic, you hang up the phone.

You need to stop this. You need to... do what? Stop what? You shake your head. And, as you look around the apartment, you feel uncomfortable. This isn’t your place. You don’t even know how you got here. Despite a voice telling you this is your apartment, you flee. You run down the sidewalk and try to make sense of what’s going on. You quickly head to a spot you know all too well: the soccer field. And when you arrive, you take a deep breath. A feeling of comfort washing over you. There’s an abandoned soccer ball and you quickly start to practice. Each move wiping away your worry. Each successful shot on goal removing any doubt that you’re anyone but Dylan Conners. And by the time you’re done, covered in sweat, only Dylan Conners remains. You look down at a text on your phone.

“Hey man, wanted to know if you wanted to prolong this exchange. Got a spot on the team for the rest of the season. And btw, I’m loving this body.”

You chuckle, “Who the fuck is that?” You wonder. You quickly text back, “Sure man, I don’t give a shit.” And close your phone.

[ceilidho]

prompt: repressed bi ghost who won't admit he wants to fuck his girlfriend and soap so he keeps making soap watch him with reader and thinks he just has an exhibitionism kink. definitely puts on a bit of a performance for soap tho (ns/fw) (ghost/reader/MAYBE soap)

-

He won’t say it because it’s not true.

He won’t say it because there’s no room for it in his world. He won’t say it because even the threat of it not being reciprocated is enough to make his chest go tight and sharp like a set of claws raking down his front. He won’t say it even though when Soap is assigned to his team, he spends months sitting ramshot straight in the Humvee next to the sergeant, forcing himself to focus on anything aside from the way Soap’s big fingers wrap around the hilt of his knife or the trigger of a gun.

Besides, it’s not like the possibility of love is closed off to him altogether. Ghost knows that from the moment he lays eyes on you; little slip of a thing that works on base, an analyst from a department that doesn’t intersect with his own so there’s no conflict of interest there. It doesn’t take much to get you into his bed and then keep you there—a couple of soft words, arm on the wall next to your head, looming over when he pulls the mask over his lips and he sees the way your eyes go wide at the sight of his mouth and he grins—

Still though, for how deeply entrenched you are in his heart, Ghost can’t shake the feeling that bubbles up in his chest when Soap sneaks up behind him on base or covers him on missions, like they’re a single unit. There's something he needs there, but he can't say it, not even to himself, but it's real and it exists in the fleeting moments when Soap's body is lit by the sun or gunfire or smoke from a cigarette. 

Interestingly enough, it’s actually Soap that brings it up the first time. Outside the bar, the landscape is soaked with light in the dusk; there’s a thin trail of smoke from Price’s cigar off in the distance, only the red butt glowing in the dark announcing his presence, far off as it is. They're otherwise alone though, unwinding after a lengthy mission that left the two of them exhausted and aching, but still alive, so good.

They’re standing outside of the bar leaning against the porch railing that wraps around the front, taking turns making little quips between sips of whatever they’re drinking. 

Soap makes a comment about you, something offhand about where he can find a little thing like you for himself. Ghost’s face doesn’t so much as twitch, even under the mask, but he doesn’t reply, throat tight. Not jealousy. It’s not jealousy or bitterness because if it was, then that would mean something that he doesn’t want to think about, never mind mull over. Never mind dwell in. Soap can fuck whoever he wants—if there’s a girl somewhere like you for him, that’s none of Ghost’s business. 

Doesn’t mean his teeth don’t clench. 

“Bonnie lass at home,” he goes on, pausing only to take a deep drink, smacking his lips when he pulls the glass away. “Warming my bed, waiting for me to get back. Gaun yersel' for getting a little thing like tha’.”

Still Ghost doesn’t respond. 

“Bet you make her work for it, L.T,” Soap teases with a grin, cockiness belied by the blush that stains his cheeks. He gets shifty once the words leave his mouth, almost like he can’t believe he said it, looking off into the distance instead of up at his superior officer.

Ghost hardly registers the words at first, his brain going staticy, thoughts slipping away fast because he realizes that Soap must have been thinking about—Soap must have been imagining you and him like that to say that. 

When he turns to him, his eyes are dark, only a sliver of blue visible around his pupil. “Why? Something you’re interested in?”

Soap goes still and silent, breath rushing out of him. His fingers tighten around the glass and Ghost sees it for a split second. A way in. 

He fucks you extra hard that first time. Lays you out and drags your pussy onto his cock again and again, hips bucking back against yours and your screams get hoarse like it hurts a bit. Just on the side of too painful. It’s always on the side of too much for you because he’s near twice your size; even as used to his size as you are, Ghost still had to tuck two fingers into your cunt to stretch you out enough for him. Got his tongue in there too, just to make sure you were nice and wet. His mask and clothes have long since been stripped, laying in a rumpled pile at the foot of the bed.

Soap’s on the other side of the room, big hand around his dick, lube squelching in his hand. Ghost allows himself to glance over once, eyes glazing over when he sees the way Soap’s hand tightens at the sharp whimper you make when he fucks you just right.

“Like you imagined it, Johnny?” he goads. Your soft gasps drag Ghost’s attention back down to you and he says something crooning and delicate in your ear, making your nails dig into the meat of his back. 

“Fuck no, Ghost—it’s— fuck, suck her tits, please.” His voice rends Ghost down the middle, makes him hot enough that it’s no trouble at all to duck his head and run his tongue over your berry nipple. 

“How’s she takin’ a big yin like you,” Soap grunts, entirely unaware that his words rattle around in Ghost’s head and make him pump between your thighs all the more unhinged. “Tiny thing. Looks fuckin’ tight, Christ. You’d have to drag me offa her—”

He won’t admit that he comes when Soap digs his heels into the carpeted floor and tilts his head back, come striping his belly and tagging across his brown nipples. He watches Soap come and feels something slot in his chest like everything is right for the first time. 

Ghost fits a hand around your neck and holds you still, ducking his head into your neck and watching you and Soap through slit eyes. When you come, clenched around his cock, breath coming out in high, tight pants, Ghost knows that he won’t be able to give this up. Neither of you.

[skzdarlings]

the heist team | the threesome series ; skz ; minho/reader/changbin

masterlist.

threesome series part 2/4.

pairing: lee minho/reader/seo changbin content info: sexual content. threesome. friends2lovers. very cheesy criminal heist shenanigans (very "we're in" style hacking and some laser grids lol). "fake" kissing, getting sexy as a distraction, giving sex directions, sexual tension that gets resolved. pussy eating, dick sucking, coming inside. purple haired minho bc meow <3

-

The camper van was the best idea you ever had.  It is much easier to enact dastardly schemes while inconspicuously hiding in plain sight. 

On the outside, the van looks like any civilian camper, but the inside is a veritable den of high-tech con-artistry.   It has a place for Minho to hang the get-ups for his grifting gambits, a compartment for Changbin to store his weapons and down-time dumbbells, and it has the sexiest, sleekest, most mouth-watering computer apparatus that has ever existed.  You love it more than anything in this world. 

Every job, you sit in the midst of your beloved computer screens, directing the operation while your boys do the ground work.  Despite knowing of your undying love for this system, your best friends and partners-in-crime are presently trying to separate you from your baby.

“Is she calling the computer her baby again?”  Minho asks from where he is getting dressed behind a curtain. 

“Yes,” Changbin says.  He is sitting in your computer chair with his arms distractingly crossed, his biceps bulging in his tight black shirt.  He is wearing a lot of lycra, having formerly anticipated he would be doing physical work tonight.

That all changed when you realized the nature of tonight’s job. 

You only ever target the obscenely rich, the kind of wealth that is obtained through its own nature of theft and villainy.  Tonight’s targets are a bunch of pompous elites celebrating themselves.  Upstairs is a gala kicking off a week-long set of dinners, auctions, and celebrations.   Downstairs is millions of dollars worth of art and antiquities, set to go up for auction the following day.  

It looked like a typical job, the kind where Minho could sweet-talk some fools while Changbin punched some security guards and you hacked the vault from the van.  The security system around the haul turned out to be far more advanced.  Operating with a form of artificial intelligence, it essentially learns as it goes, meaning hacking it from the outside is incredibly difficult as it will understand and respond to invasion.  It will be easier to outsmart from the inside, where you can reach your hand into its virtual heart and pluck its digital ventricles one by one. 

The boys do not have that kind of computer knowledge.  So now Changbin is in your chair, Minho is doing his make-up, and you are waving around an emergency cocktail dress. 

“Who’s gonna watch my baby if I’m in there!”  

“Yah! Rude woman!  You remember who helped you build this thing?” Changbin pats one of the computer towers to make his point.  “I can do the basic work in here, but I can’t do your complicated nerd things.” 

“I’m not a nerd!”  You definitely are.  You stare at the cocktail dress morosely.  “You’re forgetting something super important. That I am a total weirdo and I panic whenever someone looks at me! There’s a reason I don’t do the people side of things!  That’s what you guys are good at!”

“Technically I just hit them,” Changbin says. 

“You are plenty charming when you want to be and you know it,” you say. 

Changbin folds his hands behind his head, flexing all his muscles while grinning. 

“How charming?” he teases, cocky.  “Describe it to me.” 

“Shut up.”  You hit him with the cocktail dress to hide the fact he got you genuinely flustered.  “I can’t go in there.  People will know I don’t belong the second I walk in the room.  We won’t even get close enough to the computer bank for me to disarm it because they’ll get one look at me and throw me out the window.” 

“That won’t happen,” Minho says.   His changing area is behind you and you hear the metallic slide of the curtain opening.  “Because you won’t be going in there alone.”  

You don’t even have to turn around to know Minho looks devastatingly gorgeous; it is written all over Changbin’s shocked face.  His arms lower from behind his head and his cocksure expression shifts, his lips parting as he stares past you.  

Despite having the benefit of bracing yourself, you are still struck dumb when you turn and look at Minho.  It was always in the plan that Minho would serve as a distraction at the gala.  To stand out accordingly, he dyed his hair with temporary dye this morning.  The vibrant purple was more amusing than sexy when his hair was messy, but now it is neatly styled back, slick and off his handsome face.  He is dressed all in white, his asymmetrical suit partially slit at the side to show some skin.  There is an extra sparkle from his jewelry, plus the lightest dab of glitter in the sharper contours of his face.  He is practically glowing. 

He knows he looks good.  His mouth quirks in a little smirk at your expressions.  You and Changbin are both gawping at him, and it goes on long enough that his eyebrows lift and his smirk puckers with a surprised laugh. 

“What? Really?” he asks, still laughing at you. 

Changbin does an unexpected sign of the cross.  You hit him with the cocktail dress again. 

“Fine,” you say, mostly to have an excuse to duck behind the curtain because you think you might explode from lust and embarrassment and anxiety all at once.  “At least no one will be looking at me.” 

You step behind the curtain and snap it closed, leaving the boys to their banter. 

You like dressing up so this part is no problem.  The problem with parties is other people.  You wholeheartedly admit you are better with zeroes and ones than human beings.   

You try to focus on the fun elements of tonight: the dress, the glamour, and beating a high-tech security system at its own game.  It will be so fun to have a real challenge for once.  You know you can beat it but it will definitely push you more than your usual digital adversaries.

Also, you get to look at Minho looking like that.  Your view of the boys is usually through security cameras, nestled in your van surrounded by your operating system, so the proximity will be a treat. 

You open the curtain, scowling.  You do not enjoy socializing so you seldom have occasion to dress up, so you anticipate the boys will lovingly berate you.  But when you step forward, Changbin looks at you with the same dumbfounded expression he had for Minho.  Minho is sitting on the bench, knees apart and arm slung across the backrest.  His expression gets very serious when he looks at you.  He shimmies his hips, his knees parting further. 

“Turn around,” he says.  

The van feels so tense and quiet that you obey, more confused than anything else. 

Changbin’s gaze drops to your ass immediately, his jaw visibly clenching.  Minho tips his head like he is studying something. 

“Thank you,” Minho says. 

You face them again, hot in the face.  You cross your arms angrily. 

“What was the point of that?” you demand.

Minho lifts a single eyebrow.  “I wanted to see your ass,” he says, like it should be obvious.  “It’s a good one.  You should be proud.” 

You throw your sweatpants at his stupid smirk.  He catches it smoothly. 

“Can we just go already?”  You punctuate this with a stomp of your foot then storm out of your precious van. 

It is very strange being on this side of the operation.  You always have Minho and Changbin nattering in your earpiece, but usually you are sitting at your desk wearing proper headphones.  It is strange wandering around with a tiny bud in your ear, listening to Changbin report from your usual seat. 

You already have control of the hotel security cameras as they work on a separate operating system to the storeroom AI.  You replaced the live feed with a looping reel of empty rooms so the security team inside will not see you moving around.  It also gives Changbin a bird’s eye view of the gala and the rest of the hotel.  You feel anxious at not seeing it for yourself, but you are placated when Changbin whistles and teases, “You two are the best looking there.  You would be second best looking if I was there, so you’re lucky I’m not.” 

You and Minho both smile, your expressions fond.  

Minho gets you in the door with little more than a wink at the doorman.  You stay quiet, hiding your nerves as best you can.  Minho is a competent con-man and Changbin is plenty reliable so you try to focus on your own tasks.  First you need to get to the ground floor network base so you can get the AI to chase your red herring.  Once you are in, the AI will start responding, but with your virus acting as a decoy source within the building, you should be able to buy yourselves time to move onto the next phase of breaking down the system. 

“There’s a lot of muscle at this party,” Changbin says seriously, no doubt taking stock of all the burly security guards.  It is only natural Changbin would be as twitchy as you, also out of his element for the night.  “I don’t like not being there with you,” he says.  

“Easy,” Minho says in a calm voice.  You think it is directed at both you and Changbin.  He puts a hand on your lower back and gives you a knowing look.  “You’re doing fine,” he says.

You feel like terror is written all over your face.  It doesn’t help that Minho draws eyes the second you step into the hotel ballroom, men and women looking at him with the usual desire he draws.  They are equally curious to look at you, their eyes on where his hand rests intimately low on your spine. 

“I’m gonna hurl,” you say.

“Not a bad idea,” he says.  He smiles with so much effortless charm that no one would suspect he is whispering criminal tips.  “The best con,” he says, his lips brushing your ear, “is one that is close to the truth.”  You shiver as his fingertips brush up your spine.  He rests his hand on your nape.  “Look sick,” he says.  “We’ll say we’re looking for a restroom if someone asks.” 

You follow his lead, weaving your way through the party.  Looking sick is the easiest instruction to follow because you feel genuinely ill, your anxiety a toxic twist in your gut.  

Only when you are wandering the empty hotel corridor do you feel at ease.  You feel even more at ease when you find the ground floor network hub.  Your first obstacle is a regular alarm code, twelve digits in length.  It is obviously too long to guess so you physically unscrew the alarm box and start some manual fiddling.  There is no way to fully disarm it without also setting it off, but that’s where your own AI gadget comes into play.  You plug in your cypher scrambler and let it do its thing.  It flickers through numbers, seeking the correct pattern, learning from its errors.  You designed it yourself and though it is always accurate, it takes a while to pull the numbers.  You and Minho are forced to hover in the hallway while it gradually reveals each piece of the code. 

You are up to number seven out of twelve when Changbin inhales sharply. 

“There’s a waiter walking in your direction,” he says.  “It looks like he’s taking a shortcut to somewhere else, but you have less than two minutes until he’s on you.”

 “What!”  You start to panic immediately.  “My decipher machine could take longer than that, what do we—”

“Relax, relax!”  Changbin says at the same time Minho steps behind you and grasps your shoulders.  He makes little shushing noises while massaging you, not that it does much to help. 

“We’re good,” Minho says.  “It’s just a waiter, not security.” 

“I’m gonna get us killed,” you say. 

“By a waiter?”  Minho asks.  He gives your shoulders another squeeze.  “Is he going to beat us with a baguette?  Hey, hey, relax.”

You are a vibrating bundle of nerves.  Minho is not usually the type to dive into a hug but he turns you around and pulls you into his arms.  You wrap your arms around his middle and hug him back, hiding your face in his neck. 

“Yeah, that will work,” Changbin says. 

“Huh?” you say, lifting your head. 

Minho is staring into a security camera as if having a mute exchange with Changbin.  He nods in agreement, though you still don’t understand. 

“What will work?” you ask. 

“Distraction,” Minho says.  You just look at him with confusion. 

“Baby,” Changbin says in a soft tone, “listen to my voice.”

The sudden gentleness of his voice makes you shiver.  Your fingers are shaking when Minho takes your hand and rests it over his heart.  You look up into his dark eyes as he smiles at you with familiar fondness.  You open your mouth to speak but he shakes his head, shushing you gently.  His eyes drift to the side in anticipation of an intruder. 

“Baby,” Changbin says, his honeyed tone softening your nerves, “Minho is going to kiss you.  Just do what I say, okay?” 

Your heart skips a beat, your eyes widening.

“You trust us?”  Changbin asks. 

You nod, answering Changbin, gazing at Minho. 

It’s the truth.  You might be scared but you have been scared before and your boys always come through.  Even when the rest of the world left you behind, when you turned to crime to keep yourself alive, Minho and Changbin were there.  They have never let you down.  You trust them with anything and everything. 

Minho slips his hand around your waist, pulling you close to him.  You have been close before, sharing the van, sharing hotel rooms, but this feels different.  He looks at you with intent, his handsome face so close, a strand of dark purple hair curled over his forehead.  Your hand finds that patch of bare skin when you touch his side.  He is familiar and foreign at once, your Minho, and also a character, one who clasps his hand behind your back and ducks down to gently kiss your lips. 

“Take a breath, baby,” Changbin says with a little chuckle.  “You look like you’re going to pass out.” 

“Mmf,” is the noise you make, affirming that observation.   It makes Minho laugh, a breath against your lips. 

“Waiter is thirty seconds away.  You just want to look like a dumb, horny couple that wandered away from the party,” Changbin says.  “Listen to me, I’ll tell you what do.”

You nod, sucking in a breath when Minho kisses you again.  This time his mouth is a little more insistent, his lips coaxing yours open. 

“Close your eyes, baby,” Changbin says.  “Let your shoulders drop.  Minho has you, it’s okay.” 

You didn’t even realize how tense your shoulders were.  You listen to Changbin, letting yourself go lax.  Minho holds you, as promised, his arms sturdy around your waist as he kisses you deeply. 

“Let Minho move you,” Changbin says. “He’s going to lean you against the wall to hide the device, okay?  Put your hands on his shoulders.  Higher, baby, go around his neck.  Just like that.  Let him lead you.” 

Minho walks you backwards, carefully pressing you against the wall, hiding the dangling cypher scrambler with your bodies. 

“We wanna give our intruder a little jump scare, okay?”  Changbin says.  “Minho.”  

That is all the direction he gives Minho, trusting the adept con-man to know exactly what to do.  Minho does, his hands sliding down to your hips to pull them flush against his.  It arches your back.  Your hands are hooked behind his neck and you squeak, your fingers instinctively sinking into his hair. 

“God,” Changbin says.  The sudden dark colour to his voice sends a spark of heat shooting through you.  It clearly surprises Minho too, his lips parting with a caught breath.  “You both look hot.  Fuck.” 

Changbin takes a steadying breath.  You and Minho look at each other.  You get to see his smirk for a split second, then his mouth is on yours and it is no longer gentle and questioning.  It is a demand, hot and wanting, your lips opening with his guidance, your heart skipping beats when he licks in your mouth. 

“Do it back,” Changbin says.  “You want him to fuck you, baby.  Make him believe it.”

You think the him is question is the waiter.  Isn’t it?  You don’t even know where the waiter is anymore, if he’s around the corner or watching.  In the haziness of your kiss, it hardly seems to matter.  You kiss Minho back with the same urgency, pulling him closer, whimpering when he bites your bottom lip. 

“Fuck,” is the gentle whisper that Minho can’t fight.  His brow is crinkled, his eyes closed.  He kisses you again, his hands jumping up to gather yours.  He laces his fingers with yours and presses your hands into the wall on either side of your head. 

“Wrap your leg around his waist,” Changbin says.  “Like that, that’s it, you’re okay.” 

You lift one leg, shaky and unsure.  Minho catches you under the knee and pulls it more certainly around him.  He holds you there, his other hand grasping your throat very gently as he kisses and kisses and kisses you.  Your hands are still splayed open by your head, thoughtlessly awaiting direction.  Your fingers curl into your palm and you moan for real when Minho presses against you. 

Minho is a good actor, but the hard shape in his pants is very real.  When he grinds against you, so open and soft with your leg around his waist, it draws all those guttural sounds right out of you.  Minho makes one back, swivelling his hips in a maddening grind against you.  It is all too easy to imagine him fucking you like this, the effortless back-and-forth of his hips, your sweet sighs as he takes you, imagining Changbin there, his breath also stuttering. 

You do not forget he is watching all this, especially when he lets another low laugh and asks, “She feel good?”

“Yes,” Minho answers without hesitation, breathing the word against your lips. 

“Hold his face, baby,” Changbin says.  “Kiss him like you mean it.  Ask him to fuck you with it.”

You know what he means by that: to kiss Minho with fervency and heat.  You do obey, cupping his face with both hands and kissing him deeply, but the fuzziness of desire mixed with Changbin’s words makes your brain go screwy with want.  Not only does your kiss convey that desire, but words rush past your mouth, crashing into Minho’s lips in a breathless flurry.

“Fuck me, fuck me, please,” you say, your voice pitching up into a little whine as you rock against him.  “Want you to fuck me so bad, baby,” you say, thinking of both of them at the same.   You kiss Minho’s surprised, open mouth, your eyes closed, your voice loud in this hazy space as you say, “I’ve been thinking about it all night.  Need it so bad.  Please.  Want you inside me.  Want my mouth on you.  Come in me.  Come on me.  Take me, please.  I’m so hot and wet, it’ll feel so good, don’t you want to feel how wet I am?  Don’t you want to fuck me too?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Changbin says, followed by a rush of even more inventive curses.

Minho settles on another simple, surprised, “Fuck.” 

Then someone is clearing their throat.  Minho jumps, his hands clamping tighter around you, protective. 

“Oh, right, this clown,” Changbin says.  “I hate that he’s too far away too punch.” 

You giggle in spite of yourself, which is good because you think you might simultaneously die of embarrassment.  You drop your leg and Minho lets you go, pulling himself together faster than you. 

You let him do his thing, sliding a hand through his hair and smirking at the waiter as he saunters over.  He makes his little speech, something-something-something a moment alone with the missus, something-something sorry-sorry-sorry.   He walks the waiter back around the corner, giving you a knowing glance over his shoulder. 

Thank god your cypher scrambler has its act together, even if you are a mess.  It takes you longer to right yourself than it does for the scrambler to finish its job.  Your hands are shaking as you break into the hub, but muscle memory takes over when you have your mini-laptop open. 

Minho joins you a minute later.  Your entire body lights up like a firework when he steps close to you.  Nothing in his expression conveys anything more than professionalism – his queries are about the job and the job alone – but there is an ache between your thighs that won’t subside.  You know he feels the same way as you can see he is still hard despite how much he glares at the wall.  He adjusts his pants several times while standing in that closet of a hub with you.  You keep glancing at each other, your gazes heady, speaking volumes more than your polite conversation.   

When you leave and he puts his hand on your lower back, you shiver.  You think you might double over from the persistent thumping of your easily-distracted pussy. 

Changbin lets out a long sigh and a nervous giggle.  “Good work, team,” he says. 

You have worked enough jobs that you manage to set aside your personal feelings for the time being.  It is easy to lose yourself in your work, especially when you really have to fight the security system.  

You get inside the storeroom.  You know it is filled with more traps and alarms so you sit down beside the door and type away on your laptop.  You nearly break a sweat with the intensity of your work. 

“She’s hot when she’s doing her thing,” Changbin suddenly says. 

You lift your head and catch Minho’s eye.  He smiles at you.  “I agree,” he says. 

Your heart starts skipping beats again.  You look down at your laptop, feeling uncharacteristically shy under his gaze. 

“Don’t distract me,” you say, making both of them laugh a little.  You glare at Minho but there is no real animosity behind it. 

At least they both acquiesce, going silent while you work.  You manage to disarm most of the storeroom.  The best you can do for the remainder of traps is trigger their subsequent lighting rigs so you can see them all.  A labyrinth of blue light brightens the dark entry room, revealing each laser trigger that blocks your path to the locked compartments. 

You look up at Minho whose calculating gaze is already tracing each intricate beam. 

“Got it?”  Changbin asks.

Minho starts unbuttoning his suit.  “Always,” he says, smirking. 

Minho flips the blazer down his arms, revealing just a tight white crop top beneath it.  His jacket, shoes, and jewelry form a pile beside you.   Minho does a few quick stretches before confidently approaching the laser grid. 

Before his criminal life, Minho was a dancer, and a good one.   He draws the same graceful lines with his body now, making each manoeuvre look easy even though you know it is incredibly difficult. 

“He’s hot when he’s doing his thing,” Changbin says.

“Yeah,” you say, biting your lip and watching Minho move.  “Gotta agree.” 

Minho slips over and under each laser, twisting and bending and sliding with ease.  He pops up on the other side with a graceful twirl, throwing you a wink over his shoulder before flipping a switch on the control panel.  It powers down the censors so you can scurry across the room to join him. 

The compartment door unlocks with your final hacked access code, the door swinging open to reveal your loot.  Changbin gives a successful holler into your earpiece, making you and Minho duck with his volume. 

“I’ll bring the car around, baby,” Changbin says while you two roll your eyes but smile. 

You pack your fold out bags with your selections.  One key to success is never being overly greedy.  You walk away with a substantial victory nonetheless.    

You hurry out of the storeroom with your prize haul.  Minho gets dressed again, though he doesn’t button up his jacket.  He takes a second to catch his breath while you restore each alarm so nothing appears out of place.   When you are ready to go, he takes your hand, smiling.  You run hand-in-hand back down the corridor, making a few sharp turns until you find a staff exit.  There is a small drop so Minho jumps down first then holds out his arms for you.  Though you could make the jump easily, you still let yourself fall into his arms.  

He holds you close as he puts you on your feet.  You are riding the high of adrenaline and success, your heart soaring, which might be why you so easily surrender to desire.   You kiss him, sudden and brief but tantalizing.  He blinks back at you with surprise, his face scrunching with that astonished little laugh of his.   

You smile at him.  A line of sweat dots his hairline and you reach up, smoothing some messy strands of purple hair.  The gentle caress changes the whole shape of his face, his eyes heavy-lidded, his breathing harder.  You feel yourself change too, your heart pounding against his chest when he pulls you close. 

You got greedy with that kiss and greediness has consequences.  You are so distracted with each other that you don’t notice the security guards coming at you from the opposite direction. 

“Hey!” one shouts.  “What are you doing out here?” 

You and Minho look over, then at each other.  There is no time for conversation.  You grab each other’s hands and start running, your bags of stolen goods bouncing on your shoulders. 

“Hey!” the security guard shouts again.  You can hear their heavy footsteps thundering after you, fast despite their muscle and bulk. 

You turn the corner onto a backstreet just in time for the camper van to swing into view.  The door slides open and Changbin jumps out.  You pass each other, dropping hands so Changbin can dart between you.  

Panting, you and Minho watch as Changbin effortlessly takes down the guards. 

“He’s hot when he’s doing his thing,” you say, giggling.

Minho laughs, nodding.  “I agree,” he says. 

Minho takes the steering wheel so you can apologize to your baby for abandoning her.  Changbin jumps back in the van and the three of you drive away with another successful haul. 

Later, back at the penthouse, Minho takes the longest shower in an effort to scrub the purple out of his hair.  You are in your bedroom when he finally emerges.  You can hear him and Changbin talking in the living room.  By the sounds of it, the purple is still threaded in his dark brown hair, likely to last a few more days.  You smile to yourself, listening to their playful back-and-forth as Changbin teases him and Minho snarkily retaliates. 

It is tradition after a successful job to have a few drinks and relax.  Contacting your fence and taking care of business can wait until tomorrow. 

You can hear the usual music playing through the speakers, can hear the clink of bottles and glasses, can hear Changbin and Minho laughing and talking. 

You look at your reflection in the mirror.  Though you seldom have occasion to wear pretty luxuries, you have enough money at your disposal to treat yourself.   You have been changing in and out of different lingerie sets since you got home.  You think this one might be just right: a silky black set worn under a lacy black dress that falls to your thighs.  It is suggestive but arguably casual.  You could just be wearing it as pyjamas, right?  Sure.  Sure.  Totally normal pyjamas for a totally normal night.

The best con is one that is close to the truth, Minho had said.  Then he stuck his tongue in your mouth and you begged him to fuck you with Changbin’s help.  Even you, who is terrible at reading and understanding people, know what truth was in that charade. 

You take a deep breath and march to your bedroom door with determination.  You throw it open so hard that it smashes into the wall, startling the boys in the other room.  You ignore the crash and scurry into sight, avoiding eye contact.

“Hello,” you say.

There is a moment of prolonged silence then Changbin says, “Hi.”

You look up.  They are both staring at you, both wide-eyed, both in sweatpants and t-shirts with their hair undone and fluffy.  They look very casual and very surprised.  Minho is clutching a beer bottle and Changbin is holding a bowl of popcorn.  Both of them are frozen.

You smile a very awkward smile.

“Hello,” you say again.  “I am… I am… dressed.  For bed.  My bed.  For being in my bed, like this, as I am dressed right now.  I am going to that bed, now, like this.  You can… join me.  If you want.  If you don’t want, then, okay.  Hello.  And.  Goodbye.  Bye.” 

You run back to your bedroom and slam the door closed. 

Other than the soft music still swirling in the air, the penthouse is quiet.  You cannot hear the boys, not a comment, not a sound, not a breath.

Then you hear the popcorn bowl hit the ground and a bottle smash.  They shove and yell at each other as they stumble on the way to your bedroom.  You are standing awkwardly in the middle of your room, hands folded in front of you, waiting as they crash into your bedroom door and curse at each other. 

Changbin then very casually opens the door and they calmly walk inside. 

“Hello,” you say. 

“Hi,” Changbin replies. 

You wish thoughts could be hacked like a computer.  You cannot think of what to say or do next.  You just stare at them and they stare back, although their gazes are considerably less nervous.  Their stares are thirsty, drinking you in, looking from top to bottom and back again. 

“Turn around,” Minho says, his gaze low. 

You meet Changbin’s eye before obliging, slowly turning.

“Okay,” Minho says after a long moment, giving your heart plenty of time to go crazy in your chest.  “Thank you.” 

You turn back around, just as embarrassed as earlier but not angry at all.  You cross your arms over your chest, flicking your gaze between them. 

Minho reaches out and lightly punches Changbin on the arm.  Changbin looks at him and Minho gives him a look, one you cannot decipher.  You continue to stare at them. 

Changbin nods at Minho then looks at you.  He holds out his hand. 

“Breathe, baby,” he says.  “You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

You laugh but nod, taking his hand.  He wastes no time pulling you close, guiding your hand to his heart as Minho did earlier.  He holds your hand there and waits until you make eye contact so he can wink at you. 

“I know I am the best looking man you have ever seen in your life,” he says, making you laugh again, “but I’m me.  You trust us?”

You look at him then at Minho.  His dark hair is still tinted purple, his bare face open and soft as he meets your eye.  You smile and look back at Changbin, nodding. 

“Always,” you say. 

“Good,” Changbin says. 

He cups your face and you lean towards him, anticipating a kiss, but he gently turns your face aside.  You don’t even have time to be confused before Minho is kissing you.  He swiftly draws all those sweet sounds out of you, pulling you towards him.  Changbin steps behind you, holding your hips and kissing his way up your neck to your ear. 

“Baby,” Changbin says while Minho slows his kiss to something gentle but heated, his tongue swiping at yours.  “Listen to my voice, okay?” 

You nod, light-headed but eager. 

“Good,” Changbin says.  “Come sit in my lap.  Over here.” 

Changbin is strong enough to haul you around.  You barely have to move, letting yourself go soft in his arms.  He sits on the edge of the bed and puts you in his lap, spreading your legs over his thighs.   You stare up at Minho, out of breath, your thighs twitching to close for pressure.  Changbin slides a hand down, stroking your inner thigh and making you jump, his other hand tugging down your dress and immediately going for your breast. 

Minho sweeps a hand through his hair, taking a breath before stepping up to you. 

“Still want your mouth on him, baby?”  Changbin asks, reminding you of all the things you whispered in that heated moment.  

You nod, whimpering when Changbin slides his hands into your panties and touches you directly.  He circles and circles the most sensitive cluster of nerves, grunting and pressing his lips to your neck. 

“She’s so fucking wet,” Changbin says.  He slips his hand out of your panties and abruptly grabs Minho by the hand, tugging him closer.   Minho brings that hand to his mouth, licking your wetness off Changbin’s fingertips.  “Touch him baby,” Changbin says.  “You see how hard he is for you?”

You can see.  You can feel Changbin too, hard under you.  Their sweatpants do little to disguise it. 

You do not hesitate obeying, tugging on the waistband of Minho’s sweats.  Everything feels so dreamy and good, surrounded by touch.  It all seems to happen quickly; suddenly Changbin’s hand is in your panties, Minho’s dick is in your mouth, and Minho’s hands are tugging the straps of your dress down.   This ends with you drooling messily all over the end of his dick, sucking on the head and murmuring nonsense while Changbin makes you come on his fingers.  Then Minho kneels in front of you both, your legs end up over his shoulders, and you find yourself hurtling towards another orgasm on his mouth. 

You dress ends up somewhere, the panties too.  The bra is barely on, the straps hanging down your arms.  Changbin finally kisses you when you are on your back in the middle of the bed.  He lays between your open legs, his fingers filling you up as you continue to gush all over his hand.  You grab him, squeezing his biceps as he effortlessly moves that strong hand between your legs.  Minho climbs up too, his shirt somewhere across the room.  He grabs your hands and pulls them over your head, pinning them into the pillows before ducking down to kiss you.   You come for a third time before either of them even fucks you. 

Then they do.  Minho first, with you under him, listening to every direction Changbin murmurs in your ear.  You lift your legs around his waist when Changbin says, then touch yourself when Changbin asks, and shudder when Minho comes inside you like you earlier begged. 

Then Minho is behind you, holding you, touching you, protective and familiar while Changbin fucks you.  Changbin has a surprisingly filthy mouth, continuing to tell you how good you feel and how good you look.  Minho is quiet but fully entranced by you, his hands constantly wandering.  He slides one hand down and rubs you off while Changbin fucks you.  Then he leans over your shoulder and kisses Changbin on the mouth, making Changbin finish too.  

The music is still playing in the next room.   The three of you lay there in various states of undress, you in the middle, sweaty and messy, the boys panting and gently stroking your arms and thighs. 

“I love you guys,” you say.  It is incredibly cliché to make a love confession after several mind-blowing orgasms, but you don’t care.   You don’t need to play games or tell lies or be good at socializing, not with your boys.   You can just be your nerdy self, confessing your feelings even while drifting into sleep. 

You smile when you feel Minho kissing your cheek, Changbin giggling on your other side. 

“It will have to be big,” Changbin says.  “The biggest.”

“Hmm?” you ask, looking at him strangely. 

“The diamond we steal to put on your finger,” Changbin says, holding up your hand and circling your ring finger.  You laugh and try to pull your hand back but Minho catches it, nodding in accord. 

“I agree,” Minho says.  He kisses your temple.  “I know how criminals work,” he adds.  “You’re not getting stolen away from us.” 

He and Changbin exchange an affectionate glance over you, nodding at each other, then they are each kissing a side of your face as you squirm and laugh.  You swipe at Minho’s purple hair and kiss Changbin’s cheek, then nestle into their arms as they wrap around you, protective as always. 

[tteokdoroki]

Aali!!!! I was gonna put this in the tags of your training scenario but got shy :(

but i immediately thought of Gojo!! And like he's not surprised you flipped him over due to you're strength, he has no doubts about how strong you are but it's the fact that he trusts you so much he unconsciously turned off his infinity for you <3 so now he's like !!!!!! because what!!!! but also you're on top of him and you look so pretty so now he's short circuiting double the amount!!!!

Like !!!!!!!! my brain is going crazy thinking about it - 🍓

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. neither strong, nor weak - just in love.

about. combat training with gojo makes him realise just how strong you really are. inspired by this silly post i made yesterday, it wasn’t meant to become a whole thing but it did and now it’s…sad. im sorry. also pls don’t be shy ily :(

warnings. minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact. sfw, angst, mutual pining, slightly unrequited romance, mentions of violence (they’re combat training), death mention, canon!verse, gn!reader.

you’re pissed. 

over the years satoru’s seen a colourful array of emotions splayed against your features. he’s seen joy, laughter, happiness — all of which are his favourites. he wishes he could have seen them more. but also sadness, anguish and a pain so deep he felt like he was dying right alongside you. 

he’s died once before, nearly, but it never could have compared to the feeling he got when you looked at him with pure hatred. because gojo had been the one to hurt you, then. 

you’ve never been one to hold grudges, you’re too good of a person for the world to hold anyone in such a negative light for way too long — but when you do experience these emotions, you feel them all too much and all too hard and everyone can see it too. maybe that’s why gojo picks up on your spike of anger so easily during training today, it could be the sick reason behind how much he’s enjoying you being pissed off too.  

because you wear your heart on your sleeve and your emotions on your face, so gojo knows exactly how he makes you feel — all of the time. “c’mon sweetheart, don’t lose focus. don’t you wanna beat me?” he taunts you, a cocky smile stretched over his lips as he dodges each of your blows, though the shades over his eyes hide the admiration he has for you.  

“fuck you.” you spit back harshly, as if the words scald your tongue. shifting your weight onto your back foot, you take a chance and swing your leg up high, just narrowly missing the silvery mop of satoru’s hair where his infinity goes up to protect him. 

for gojo, it’s easy for things to lose their meaning, slipping away from him like fine grains of sand through his fingers. at times when he should, he finds himself without a care — it’s easier to walk through life not giving a shit than to tie emotions to actions, people and places. if the strongest cares too much then people have to die. that’s why the wielder of the six eyes holds you to such high regards. you’re strong because you’re able to care — no matter what’s in your path or who might stand in your way, and what they might make you feel, you are able to be strong for those in need. 

you feel what satoru can’t. 

“i’ve been waiting all day for that, honey.” he quips back, lifting his shades just a little to bare the full brunt of your aura through his technique. “c’mon, let’s put in a little more effort, shall we? if i were a curse, you’d be dead by now.” 

everything gojo sees is magnified by one hundred, he could detect the smallest of changes no matter how close or far he was from you — and being able to witness frustration build up in your core along with stacks of your cursed energy elicits a pleasant reaction out of him. his head flops to the side, almost bored, despite how the corner of his lips quirk up into a lopsided grin. satoru loves how you’re just teeming with anger, from the top of your head right down to your toes — spreading into your fingertips as your cursed energy balls powerfully around your fist. 

and even though he catches it between his larger hands, the thin invisible veil of his infinity quite literally stopping you from killing gojo — he can still feel that you’re pouring your all into this, into him. even though you’re tired and dripping with sweat while your muscles burn so hot you fear they might melt away, you’re still trying. you still won’t give up. you’re still stronger than he ever could be. 

and he’s practically a god. 

“you would be the dead one if you didn’t have the cheat code to life.” rolling your shoulders, you step back with a menacing snarl and start again — fists flying in the direction of the six eyes as you’re  fuelled by the passion of taking him down. making him hurt. people like gojo piss you off, their existence serving as a reminder that your life is not promised and every step you take is a sacrifice to help them live on. though deep down, you know that you don’t hate him for it. it’s nothing that he could have helped. 

once again, satoru snags your fist before it can even leave a mark on him and draws you in by his infinity. for a moment, you’re scared that he might use it to repel you, harm you  — he catches the flicker of fear in your eyes before you steel your nerves and keep on fighting even as he grabs at your wrists, sweeps your feet out from underneath you and pins you to the hard ground below. 

leaning over your frame as you squirm beneath him, gojo tuts down at you in faux disappointment. “so sad, and here i was, thinking that you were strong enough to beat me.” he says, cruelly. “give up already, princess.” 

in response, you bare your fangs and dig your nails into his wrists — not letting up. “i’ll give up when you’ve killed me.” 

that makes satoru falter. 

it’s only training, really, it shouldn’t even be that serious. but his mind can’t shake the idea of one day sacrificing you for the good of others. for everyone satoru gojo has ever cared about, there has been a day where he has to choose between letting them meet their end and protecting the jujutsu world. that’s the way it’s always been and always will be. it’s not that he thinks you’re weak, that you can’t handle yourself — you’ve proven yourself capable of that time and time again. you’re strong, physically and resilient in your emotions, mentally but you’re only human.

and humans don’t last as long as gods do. 

seizing the opportunity at hand, you squeeze your thighs around satoru’s slender waist to switch your situation and rip your wrists free from his steady iron grip. so now, your positions are reversed, and he’s the one with his arms above his head — exposing all of his vulnerable vital organs. he could have easily kept himself in control and have you squirming below him for hours, but he lets you. he trusts you enough to let you prove yourself to him — just so he can have that moment, that lets you know that the great satoru gojo is not immune to the likes of you. 

he is weak for you. 

his infinity slips away unconsciously just as his back his the the floor with a dull thud — wisps of his snow white hair flying about the place with the motion. satoru lays still beneath you, unmoving like a tree rooted to its spot, and peers up at you through the thickness of his lashes. he watches how you try to control your surprise and how shocked you are at yourself for pinning him down — truth being told that if he didn’t have infinity to hide behind, if he was human, you probably would have been able to from the start. 

“think again,” you breathe, the dip in your voice doing nothing to help satoru’s crazed mind and how insane he is for you. “princess.”

you’re so pretty like this. your eyes are frenzied and and astonished, your chest heaves with every breath you take in desperation to fill your lungs with air and your skin shines with light perspiration from your training. and even then, to satoru, you’re the most precious form of life he’s ever seen. a rarity amongst unpolished gems. every emotion you have right now is laid bare against your features, coursing through your veins and it’s because of him. 

it’s nice like this, to feel weak in the knees and in the heart for someone. to be able to feel your pulse rather than see it as nothing but a flicker of a blue flame with blue eyes. 

he wants to touch you, subconsciously reaching out to brush a thumb over your cheek. “you’re so beautiful.” satoru whispers, his voice low and uneven — causing goosebumps to rise over the expanse of your skin and a soft gasp to lay wet on your lips. 

exasperated tears begin to well up in your eyes, sitting pretty in your lower lash line. you’re so angry at gojo and how you think he sees you but you don’t dare to push his hand away, instead turning your head to look elsewhere. you don’t want him to see you cry. 

“turn your infinity back on. i could kill you.” 

“you’re beautiful,” satoru repeats adamantly, not caring if he sounds like a broken record. “you’re strong. stronger than me.” you’re pissed at him too , for looking down at you. for all the things he’s said that hurt you without meaning to. your grip on his wrists loosen along with your hold on your emotions. “i wish i could be weak enough to love you.”

“i said turn it back on, gojo.” 

“look at me, please.” 

“gojo.” 

“please.” 

your shoulders sag with a shaky exhale, all of the fight you had leaving you as you sit on top of him — looking down at him. “what?” comes your quiet mumble, not daring to flinch away as his thumb traces over your bottom lip without the gentle hum of his infinity.

“i love you.” 

if you were at any other point in time, satoru’s words would have had you melting over him like butter in a pan. you would have been weak enough to say it back and let him overwhelm you with longing. because if this were any other point in time, you would have needed satoru gojo like you needed air to breathe. like you needed him to live. 

but things are different now, there’s a concrete wall built around your heart to fortify it and you’ve grown to become immune to him. like gojo says, you are strong and while you know that you always have been — hearing him admit that makes you realise you don’t want to prove your worth to him anymore. 

you would much rather have him kill you instead. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[bunnies-and-blues]

Hello gorgeous, I hope life has been treating you well! Can I request mitsui, miyagi, sendo, and maki with a reader who likes to draw and often goes to their practice to draw them? If not or it’s too many that ok! Thank you for your consideration!🫶

─꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱─ slam dunk : my muse ! ☆

���⸝ tl;dr : sd boys with their artist partner ! involves hisashi mitsui + ryota miyagi, akira sendoh, and shinichi maki !

⸝⸝ note : i took a bit of liberty and made the reader their partner, i hope that's okay ! idm making a seperate post wherein reader is their friend / admirer if ever :DD

hisashi mitsui + ryota miyagi . . . seperately !

the moment you and mitsui/miyagi became a thing he just became the cockiest person in the world . like, genuinely . it was really cute and endearing at first but eventually everyone's just pissed at him t-t

even more so when he's at practice ... all of a sudden he's extra energetic and his form is beyond perfect (not that akagi's complaining; if you get them to play well then that's all for the better)

he knows that you like to draw —its even one of the reason why he likes you so much ! — and the moment he found out that you drew him during his practices ... oh my god, ego to the roof !! /pos

mitsui flashes you a devilish grin, his eyes gazing upon the quick sketches you've made of his form. "i look great," he states. he winks as he walks back towards the ring, aiming for a three-pointer. "make sure to get my good side, yeah?"

look, mitsui's all cocky and arrogant when he's in front of the others (much to their chagrin), but in private — that's a whole different story . he's consistently sending kogure and akagi photos of your art, pretty much showing them off !!

and he makes sure to thank you for all of your efforts ; he'll buy you all the art supplies you want ! (and he'll try to draw you as well, but he's not the best at it ... )

miyagi is speechless when you show him your sketchbook. across the pages are drawings of him, each pose dynamic and vivacious. he could practically feel the energy radiating from your sketches. "this is amazing," he murmurs, heart-eyed. he looks up at you. "you're amazing."

much like mitsui, he'll show your art off — but he'll show it off to everyone. the basketball team, ayako, his classmates, his family- you name it !

what can i say ? he loves you !

akira sendoh . . .

"woahh!" sendoh exclaims, his eyes alight with glee when you show him your sketchbook. he takes it in his hands, holding it as if it was the most precious thing to exist. he traces the outline of his sketched-out form with a delicate finger, his grin spreading ear-to-ear. he looks at you with crinkled eyes, his smile as bright and warm as summer sun. "these are really good ! maybe you should teach me how to draw !"

sendoh is all smiles when he saw your drawings of him . he can't help it ! believe it or not, he's seen fanart of himself alongside the countless fanmail he's received, but never before has he had someone draw him so ..

he can't describe it, really . but all he knows is that it's the best art he's ever seen ! your art was warm, each pencil stroke filled with love and care, your affection for him reflected tenderly in the careful way you drew his features.

like with mitsui and miyagi, he'll gladly show off your art to the basketball team ! and before you know it, you'll have a line of the team members asking for you to draw them as well .

shinichi maki . . .

maki stares at the compilation of sketches in his hand. admittedly, he had felt a bit downhearted when he saw that you've been drawing during their practices, feeling as if you haven't been paying him attention, but he couldn't have been more wrong. he caresses the paper with a gentle hand, then pulls you in for an embrace. "thank you, my darling," he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. "these are wonderful."

a gentleman through and through, maki makes sure to show his affections after receiving such a gift (even if you didn't mean it to be a gift in the first place) .

he starts giving back, taking you out on art dates and offering to buy you any art supply you want . even if you ask for just a simple pencil, he'll ensure that you get only the best quality !

unlike the other three, he'd want to keep your art of him for his eyes only . not that he's not proud of it or anything, but he just prefers for your art of him to be seen by only him ... not that it works (kiyota would find a way to snatch them from him when he's not working lmao)

[minnaci]

POST-SHOW AFTERGLOW

contents: heartsteel!shieda kayn x afab gn!reader (reader's anatomy is described using the words "pussy", "cunt", "clit", and "cervix"), bottom!reader, use of insertive sex toys by reader, kayn walks in on reader masturbating, established relationship, bedsheet banter, fingering, penis-in-vagina sex, cervix mention, light dumbification, creampie, post-coital cockwarming

watching kayn perform live never fails to get you hot and bothered. luckily, kayn is always willing to take responsibility.

or, kayn fucks reader after a heartsteel concert. it's ridiculously good.

there's a wild sort of energy that ebbs and flows around kayn post-show. adrenaline— lightning in a bottle. he's on top of the world. he'd win any fight. he's ready for anything—

his train of thought comes to an abrupt end as he nudges open the door to your bedroom, and immediately, every cell in his body is subsumed by the low-burning embers of arousal.

he is not ready for this.

blankets lay crumpled around your spread legs. you're an angel, every curve caressed by soft light, and your eyes are squeezed shut as you fuck yourself on a thick dildo.

kayn recognizes that toy. it's the one that's the closest to his size and shape. you only use it when you're feeling particularly needy for him, or when you miss him. a soft, tender ache blooms in his chest.

"kayn," you whimper, sugar sweet. you don't seem to have noticed him, lost in your own world of pleasure. "kayn, please, please, i need you, please—"

your voice breaks on a sob, and kayn's mouth goes dry. his fingers curl with the need to take.

"what a nice surprise." kayn's smirk widens into a full, cocky grin when your eyes fly open and you squeak with surprise.

"kayn!" your hands scramble to pull the toy out, and kayn greedily watches as your pretty hole gapes ever so slightly, fluttering around air. another shot of heat, straight to his cock.

"oh, don't stop on my account," kayn says. "i'm just enjoying the show."

your resultant pout creases right between your eyebrows, and he lets loose a laugh, crossing the room in three eager, bounding steps to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. his tongue flickers out, and he licks into your mouth. he loves how you melt in his arms, how you always let him in so easily. you're so perfect for him. he's just about to crawl into bed and show you just how perfect he thinks you are when—

"shower first," you murmur against his lips, as if you hadn't been making a mess of the sheets for hours before he came home.

"but—" kayn knows exactly what you're about to say. he's got "dirty" clothes on, so he can't get on the bed, which is "clean". but can anyone really blame him when you look so tempting, so obscene, that his brain hurts from how hard his cock is?

"kayn—"

"hear me out." he presses a few sweet, pleading kisses to your cheeks, relishing in the way you melt under his easy affection.

"...fine."

"you're so beautiful, baby. look at you all fucked out. do you really expect me to make it a whole shower without jerking off? and if i jerk off, i'll cum, and there won't be anything left in the ol' sacks to fill you with."

you raise an eyebrow, clearly not impressed. damn it. looks like kayn has to bring out the big guns.

"...i'll wash the sheets after we're done," kayn adds. "so they'll be clean again."

"you really want me so bad you'd do laundry for me?" you swoon dramatically— a feat when you're already laying in bed. "is this what it means to be loved?"

"you're a menace," he says. it can't be legal for you to be both cute and devastatingly sexy at the same time. fuck, he loves you so much he swears he'll explode with it. his chest tightens. his fists clench. he can't stand it.

he pounces onto you, heart singing at the elated little yelp you let out as he presses a flurry of kisses to your face.

"i love you," kayn growls, incongruously aggressive for how sweet the words are. his fingers find their way between your thighs, rubbing where you want it the most. he dips inside, just a little, but you tense as if he's shoved all five (and a half!) inches inside of you at once.

"love you— love you too, kayn—"

fuck, he could listen to you saying his name just like that for years, and he'd never go soft.

"relax for me, baby." he stretches you in gentle, practised movements, head spinning as you obey, body going pliant under his covetous hands. you're so perfect for him, already soft and wet from your earlier stint with your toy. your lips find his weak spot— the tender patch of skin right between the junction of his neck and jaw— and he groans, feeling a little insane as you rock back against his fingers, dripping sweet and sticky like warm honey.

"i can't hold back much longer," he says, voice strangled.

"so don't." your breath catches as the tip of his finger brushes against your sweet spot, so he does it again, just to hear you gasp. he could get lost in this, this pleasure of playing your body like the finest of instruments, pulling sound after needy, dripping sound from your pretty mouth.

"kayn— kayn, please, stop teasing, don't hold back, please, i need you—" the sheer desperation in your voice makes kayn's blood sing with pleasure, and he gently removes his fingers from your aching hole, much to your chagrin. you line up the head of his cock with your entrance, shuddering as it pulses a thick glob of pre-cum over your skin. "inside, inside, please—"

-

there's nothing quite like the initial stretch of kayn's cock as he bullies his way inside of you. he's so thick, and the way he's got you folded makes him feel even bigger. your jaw hangs slack, every nerve trembling with anticipation.

the tip of his cock nudges inside, and you both let out twin moans. your cunt is hungry for it. desperate, even— your gaze goes hazy and unfocused as your pussy sucks softly at his tip.

"so fucking good," he groans. "how are you so fucking good every time?"

if you could speak, you'd say that you could ask him the same thing, but any semblance of coherent speech is knocked from the forefront of your mind as he eases deeper into you. every additional inch of his hot, throbbing cock only serves to make your mind go blank with pleasure. your eyes roll back, flutter shut.

"fuuuck, that's it, baby. feels good, doesn't it?" kayn shudders as he bottoms out. the very tip of his cock kisses a spot deep inside, so sensitive that it sends a thrill up your spine. "there it is— there's that weak spot. yeah, let me use it against you, baby. 'm gonna fuck all that resistance right out of your pretty hole..."

he rolls his hips once, twice, giving a few deep, experimental thrusts. true to his word, his cock massages over your sweet spot. you can't fight the onslaught of sensation, and even if you could, you wouldn't want to. it's so, so good— too good to resist, too good to fight. pleasure melts your brain, turning every coherent thought you might have had to gooey bliss.

your jaw hangs slack. your head spins. pleasure curls around your limbs, pulling you to new heights of mindless need.

"yeah, that's right. this is what you needed, isn't it?"

you don’t have to reply— the answer is written in the slight crossing of your eyes, the subtle trembling of your ribcage, the thin line of saliva that drips from the corner of your mouth. heat builds in your core, spreading like fire across your skin, and you let loose a long moan.

“kayn…” you struggle to make eye contact, lucidity slipping through your fingers with every devastating thrust.

“no thinking,” he says. his thumb finds your clit. the added stimulation makes it all too easy to obey. any semblance of logical thought dissipates into hazy pleasure. you wouldn’t be surprised if your brain was leaking straight out of your dripping cunt.

“no thinking,” you repeat dumbly, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. your fucked-out gaze meets his, and he curses under his breath, cock pulsing inside of you. through it all, he continues rubbing those maddening, mind-melting circles on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

heat envelopes you, swallows you whole and digests you, transforming you into a being of need and pleasure. your nerves sing with molten arousal. every touch, every breath, every heartbeat only sends you spiraling further and further into the depths of debauchery.

“that’s it, baby, let me make you feel good, yeah, yeah—” kayn babbles, his hips stuttering out of rhythm. it makes his cock slide in that much deeper, makes his thumb slip just right against the hood of your clit, and— and—

you fall apart on his cock with a wail, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure. it burns through you, sets the stars ablaze behind your eyelids. your sanity shatters as you all but convulse, gorging yourself on decadent sensation.

thick, creamy warmth floods your insides, and you practically purr at the way the tip of kayn’s cock kisses the sensitive mouth of your cervix. he’s still mumbling mindless praises against the soft skin of your neck even as he fucks you through both of your orgasms. his voice takes on an edge of wretched desperation. “so good, so good, it hurts, baby, hurts good, i— i— fuck…”

he collapses over you, sheathing himself balls-deep with a groan. the last dregs of his cum drool from his tip, dribbling over your sensitive walls. your pussy flutters around him in response, hungry for every last drop of him, and he nearly whimpers at the added sensation. pain and pleasure swirl around you in a heady cocktail of hormones as you come down from your highs together.

when kayn kisses you, it feels right— the natural product of the raw desire that connects you. his lips move against yours sweetly, softly, and he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. the afterglow is made for kissing, for heavy petting, for the cooling of sweat and softening of breaths.

"what was that all about?" kayn murmurs in the hazy quiet, pulling you closer to him. you grumble a bit as his soft cock shifts inside of you, threatening to fall out, and he makes a soothing little noise, ignoring the pricks of painful overstimulation and focusing on keeping you nice and warm and full.

"what was what all about?"

"don't play, baby. what had you so needy tonight?"

"...ah." your face heats up, and you bury your nose in his chest. still, it doesn't muffle your next words. "you looked really, really good on stage tonight. i couldn't stop looking at your stupid bulge through your stupid leather pants."

the honestly is unexpected enough to subvert kayn's knee-jerk instinct to be insufferable and smug. he gapes at you. "you're so fucking cute."

“mhm,” you hum in agreement. “and you’re beautiful. so we match.”

there’s a frazzled sort of silence as kayn short-circuits from the praise. for someone who presents with such an inflated ego, his reaction to genuine compliments is nothing short of charming.

"so... the sheets?" you break the silence, only half-joking.

kayn groans. “i’ll wash them tomorrow. let me enjoy this, baby.”

“i’m holding you to it.” you bury your face in his chest, heart melting a bit as his lips brush over the crown of your head. dirty sheets or not, there’s nowhere else you would rather be than here, limbs tangled with his, soaking in your shared pleasure.

tags: @enchantedforest-network @angelshub

[flightfoot]

Hi, since you're the ML fanfic authority around these parts, can you rec any fics based on the paris special? Even if its not finished or is abandoned it doesn't matter, i'm in desperate need of more paris special content. thank you!

Oooh, yes I can! Of course there aren't a ton of them as of yet, but there's still enough to scratch your itch, I hope! Luckily most of these I already have recs written out for, for the large rec lists I'm gonna publish at the end of the year (or well, the beginning of next year, actually). I'll tag everyone whose tumblr handles I know, but feel free to tag anyone I didn't get!

First, I'll start off with the complete fics.

If We Run, We Run Together by @heartfulselkie

The mockery of his laugh had always made her want to punch Griffe in the face, but now the thought wasn't even crossing her mind. The teasing tone in his voice and smugness of his grin had faded, his cocky attitude dissolving into something more genuine. Was that what his real laugh sounded like? Was that what his real smile looked like?

I loved seeing Toxinelle and Griffe Noir awkwardly start relearning how to be around each other, without hiding behind uncaring facades. They've got a long way to go, but they're getting there!

---

Back to Life (Back to Reality) by @2manyfandoms2count

Toxinelle and Griffe Noire return to their world after their night in the canon timeline.

I loved seeing these two talking a bit more amiably, especially with Toxinelle commenting on how silent Adrien is as a civilian. That doesn’t appear to be something he really wants to dwell on.

---

Here’s Hopes For Moving Forward... by allthingsasian

Gabriel finds out his son is Claw Noir.

Set just after the Paris Special...

I loved seeing Gabriel’s perspective here, finding Claw Noir broken down, crying on his son’s bedroom floor, and realizing what that means. How badly Adrien must have been hurting, how he’d been lashing out and hurting everyone he could reach, including himself, with the self-cataclysm. 

But now, Adrien and Gabriel are ready to talk, with Adrien getting the hug he’s sorely needed for a long time.

---

The Supreme Movers by PearlO_O

Continuation of Tales of Shadybug and Claw Noir.

Adrien and Marinette battle with the emotional aftermath of meeting their alternate selves.

This was an excellent follow-up to the Paris Special! To be clear, the Adrien and Marinette here are Claw Noir and Shady Bug, not the ones from the show we’ve been following all this time. I really liked Adrien and Marinette reflecting and recontextualizing how their parents have been acting in more positive ways, and getting more positive responses in turn, along with them reassessing how they’ve been acting and reaching out to Alya and Nino. There’s this theme of “it doesn’t matter who we were or what mistakes we made, but who we want to be and that we keep moving forward”.

---

Keep Me Safe Inside by RoFair

Adrien Agreste, formally known as Claw Noir attempts to get to know the girl he admires behind the mask of the reformed Shadybug. He has a plan, but it is derailed by a blonde bully.

I love how smitten Adrien is with Marinette! He might have a lot of bravado as Claw Noir, but he’s kinda shy as a civilian. Of course, that all goes out the window when Marinette needs help - like when she’s being bullied and is nearing a breakdown.

---

Eat, Pray, Duck by @trishacollins

Gabriel Agreste split his twin sons apart when his wife died, keeping one with him and sending one to London with his sister. Unfortunately, the Supreme was not willing to let this be.

He wanted a matched set.

Felix is a weapon, a servant of the Supreme. On a mission to retrieve the stolen Miraculous.

In a world that has outlawed kindness, sometimes the most dangerous person is the one who chooses it anyway.

I love this glimpse at what might have been going on with Felix back in Shadybug and Claw Noir’s world, I did wonder what might have been going on with him. Poor kid, he managed to have it even worse than he did in canon. I really loved seeing his interactions with Luka, the Couffaines rebel through kindness it seems!

---

Friends who kiss by @kuromori4

It’s been about a week since Shadybug and Claw Noir’s goody-two shoes alternate universe counterparts convinced them to betray the Supreme and join the Resistance. And while they are determined to be better… It hasn’t been easy. While both Shadybug and Claw Noir have a lifetime of problems to untangle if they want to be good people, they realize a new look doesn’t magically make you a nice person. As if that weren’t hard enough to deal with, the two ex-Villains struggle with defining what their new relationship might be.

I love the two of them talking things out, and struggling. Shadybug in particular is still very prickly and prone to making snide comments about Adrien, even though she doesn’t really know him, and she still hasn’t totally come to terms with her own true feelings about Claw Noir. Though by the end they um. Figure that out, I guess you could say XD.

---

These next two are WIPS, I've really been enjoying them so far!

Cracked White Porcelain by between

The basement is a wreck by the time they return and it takes her a moment to remember where their last fight in their world had really led them. "Remind me, please," Noir says, voice still but a fragile tingle against her ear. "To think about it, later." "You'll have to," she agrees with a nod. His hand is shaking in hers. "I know." They both pretend they aren't holding onto each other as they blindly, foolishly, follow their enemy, their ally, through the shadows of their city. (An act of treason against the Supreme doesn't leave you with a lot of places to go. Giving up on your goals is a lot easier when the consequences of your actions haven't caught up to you yet.)

This fic mostly covers what happens immediately after they return to Hesperia's HQ, with Marinette and Adrien freeing their kwamis of their gags, for starters. Marinette and Adrien apparently figured out that Hesperia is Gabriel before the events of the Paris Special here (since well, his HQ is beneath the Agreste Mansion, so that makes it pretty obvious) while Gabriel still has no clue, which leads to an interesting dynamic, especially since Gabriel's worried about his son while having no clue that he's right in front of him.

---

One step forward, no steps back by @theerurishipper

Wanting to move on, wanting to choose to be part of the world, meant looking at it. And it also meant he had to look at all the fear, the heartache, the terror and rage and anger that he had caused. And he’s not sure how to come back from it all. It all feels so hopeless, like there’s nothing he can do anymore. But he can’t go back either. Not to that life. Not after everything, not knowing that something better is possible. For better or worse, that optimistic, hopeful part of him that he’d thought long lost has awakened once more, and holding onto it feels much better than the consuming despair that had plagued him for months. But it all feels like it could fall apart any second. And he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to bear losing himself a second time.

This fic's from Adrien's perspective, dealing with the new changes in his life. You get a good look into the mindset that led him to becoming Claw Noir to begin with, how he was breaking down and lashing out at everyone around him, and had little concern for even his own survival.

Things are getting better though, slowly. Nino's willing to hear him out, and he and Marinette are really talking, in ways they didn't before, when they were villains. Even his relationship with Plagg's on the mend, and Hesperia's acting like a father to him (which well, considering what we readers know of their relationship... XD).

But the Supreme isn't willing to just let Adrien skip off to a happier future...

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hey i dont know if you would take this as a request but can you make another Gen 0 x reader but not angst this time.Its ok if you dont and keep up the good work!

Guys I am slowing down massively, as you might be able to tell, with Lookism. Once again, I am so so sorry for my delay for requests and lack of responses.

Jinyoung Park x Reader: Jake (feat Jake)

Leans F!Reader. Soft.

"Jakey, you are frickin' adorable!" You grin, lightly pinching one of his chubby cheeks.

Little Jake grumbles at you, eyebrows creasing, lips pinched.

Then turning down.

A wobble.

A telltale sign of an incoming tantrum.

"Don't cry, look!" Jinyoung hurries to readjust Jake in his arms. Reaches into his lab coat to pull out Jake's favourite candy. He gives them a little rattle, garnering the toddler's full attention. "If you cry, you don't get these."

Two chubby hands try to snatch at them without success, "Gimme!"

"Say please."

"Gimme!"

"Please."

"GIMME!"

(Jinyoung ignores that his rudeness is almost entirely his fault for constantly spoiling him. That Jake gets away with far more than he should do with his doting uncle.)

He gives him a stern look instead this time. Showing his displeasure and disappointment at the disrespectful tone.

...Which turns out to be entirely the wrong move when Jake lets out a bloodcurdling scream. Big fat tears rolling down his face as if the world is against him, and Jinyoung and you are at the centre of it all.

So much for a sugary bribe to curb the tantrum. You think your eardrums are in danger of bursting.

"Here, here." Jinyoung sighs, taking advantage of Jake's wide open screaming mouth and drops a piece of candy into it.

It takes a moment for the sugar and delicious artificial flavours to hit. To travel from Jake's tongue up to his brain and to register that his tantrum worked.

Within seconds, the tears dry up. Jake is all toothy grins, sparkling eyes, sunshine and rainbows again.

You click your tongue in disapproval. Even if you are thankful for the wails subsiding, Jake is absolutely playing your boyfriend like a fiddle with his crocodile tears.

Worst of all, Jinyoung willingly goes along with it.

Honestly, that man is a complete sucker.

"Let's get one," he says to you minutes later as Jake is giggling and bouncing in his arms.

He's picked his moment wisely because the ringing in your ears has stopped. All you can hear is Jake's sweet, innocent laughter; all you can see is Jinyoung smiling softly at Jake, then at you.

"Sure," you roll your eyes, "We'll just go to the store and buy one."

"I'm serious." He steps closer, giving you a light nudge with his shoulder. "You and me." Eyes flickering to Jake, "A mini one of us running around."

"A mini you would be a nightmare," you mutter, stroking Jake's cheek and he looks up at you with his big brown eyes. Finding no offence this time at being fussed over. "Would be cute though."

"I know."

"I'll think about it."

Jinyoung exhales a breath of laughter.

He looks at you, really looks at you. The person he knows without a shadow of a doubt his heart belongs to. His present and his future.

A mini you or mini him would be nice. But there's no rush. You have the rest of forever.

"You're my everything," He tells you, low and hushed.

"I know." You give him a cocky smirk.

But you know, and he knows, that you mean 'you're mine too'.

[kairiscorner]

OMIGOSH ok so what if spiderwoman reader moves into miles’ world and they have a sorta like ladynoir dynamic😻😻😻 but in the end miles goes over to readers house and finds out eachothers identitys omggg

HI !! OMG that's kinda cute ngl :> I WANT MORE TEASING MILES, YES PLEASE ?????? i hope u like this :>

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ GUESS WHO? — miles 1610 x spider woman!reader

• ·➤ summary: you were always miles' favorite spider person to tease, and to find out you were going to be staying in his world for a while... it made him a excited to finally have someone he could work together with. coincidentally, he met a new girl at school who caught his eye, he didn't realize she was hiding a big secret from him–until he discovered it himself.

• ·➤ pairing: miles 1610 x fem!reader • ·➤ genre: mainly fluff !! • ·➤ word count: 1,564 • ·➤ author's note: THIS DYNAMIC IS SO CUTEEEEEEE I HOPE Y'ALL LIKE THIS <333

"never thought we'd cross paths again, spider woman." called out a playful, nonchalant voice from behind you as you were seated atop the roof of the high rise building you were perched upon. you sighed as you looked back at him, your mask's lenses showing evident frustration. "great, it's the guy whose armpits are bleeding." you murmured as miles smirked at you from underneath his mask, strutting around you, acting cocky as usual. "cold as ever, i see." he remarked as he playfully tapped your shoulder, with you sighing as you looked off into the distance. "y'know, this is my city to save, i'm the spider person of this dimension; never thought i'd be getting a sidekick. and to have my number one fan be that sidekick? gosh, i'm so flattered." he said sarcastically with a sigh. you didn't plan to stay any longer and instead swung away while miles wasn't looking. "hey, wait up!" he called after you as he swung off, following you. you expertly swung from building to building, underneath the railways of the trains moving from above, with miles calling out to you all the while. he finally caught up to you and nudged you with his elbow. "how long are you staying for?" he asked you as you shrugged. "i don't think you have to know." you promptly replied as you threw yourself up and landed on an abandoned building's rooftop that provided the best view in all of brooklyn.

miles followed you and watched you from afar as you looked over all the lit up buildings and streets below you all. he chuckled as he walked over next to you. "i know you aren't sidekick material, you're more... heroine material, but can we just... set aside the fact you're always annoyed by me and just protect the city? i mean, now that you're here and all." miles rambled as you placed a hand on his shoulder. "these people are gonna be the people i need to save now, so... 'course i will. but you'll be the sidekick." you quipped as you leaped off the rooftop and swung off into the night. miles chuckled as he watched you go with a grin. he had known you for a while, ever since the collider incident, he had looked up to you and appreciated how well you upheld your duty as spider woman, though he never knew the person behind the mask. he wasn't going to pry your identity from you, after being spider man for a whole year, he's come to value and separate his secret identity from his superhero identity.

the next day, he had met this new girl in his class. she was a little quiet and didn't have many friends; she kinda faded into the background, but miles was immediately drawn to her, as if he had this sense that just compelled him to talk to her. "hi, you new around here?" miles asked her in a cheery voice, with her appearing a little surprised at miles' friendly demeanor. miles promptly stepped back a little and awkwardly smiled. "um, yeah, i am." she replied as she looked deep into miles' eyes. miles didn't really feel uncomfortable at her intense gazing into his eyes, though he did feel a little self-conscious. "sorry i'm staring, i..." "it's cool, you don't have to explain yourself, it's fine." he said with a flustered voice as he smiled a little wider that a girl was giving him so much attention, a sweet and pretty one, at that.

miles offered to show her around the school, but not before they both introduced themselves to each other. the two hit it off naturally, and they agreed to meet together after school to get to know each other a little better. though when a crazed tech geek started robbing a local pawn shop, they both had to cancel. miles ran off to change quickly into his spider suit, and before he could even make it back to get the villain's attention, spider woman was already dancing with the villain. miles hit the villain's blind spot, catching their attention as you webbed up their gear. "ey, right on time! i would compliment you for coming on time, but you stole my thunder, so that's not cool!" he quipped as he punched the villain and webbed up their arms.

"so what if i did? these streets aren't just yours to save now, sidekick!" you shot back as you both swung around the villain and webbed up their eyes. you both knocked the villain out with swift kicks to their face as they lay there on the pavement, dazed and for the authorities to clean up. the onlookers all had their phones out, buzzing and capturing this very moment: spider man and a spider woman are teaming up? everyone was applauding you two, while also clamoring you both with questions. as miles tried to calm and appease the crowd, you ran off and swung your way back home. "hey, wait for me!" he called out to you as the crowd watched you two go off, still asking questions, like where spider woman came from, what your relationship is with each other, who's the sidekick between you two--but all those questions went unanswered as miles caught up after you, with you weaseling away from him.

miles still looked around for you, searching every alleyway and street for you--every place he would hide if some spider person he was annoyed with to no end was following him--but you were nowhere in sight. "just wanted to say thanks for your help..." miles muttered to himself as he got a text notification on his phone. it came from the girl he just met today, and her asking him if he was okay. miles texted her back with a cute, smiley kaomoji that he was okay, he just had to make a quick break for the bathroom because... he did not piss himself when the villain arrived, of course!

miles was texting her as he swung off, heading home. he asked her if he could visit her still since the issue back there was taken care of by brooklyn's coolest spider man and his new sidekick, spider woman. she defended spider woman's honor and said it seemed like spider man was her sidekick back there. "whether spider man was the sidekick is like time, relative! you see it your way, i see it my way." he texted her as she sent him an eyeroll emoji. she told him he could come to her house soon, trusting him with her address. miles told her he'd be over in 5, but was already on his way there, seeing as how she... was actually living in his neighborhood.

he found her address and saw a glimpse of the back of her head by the window and swung over to her. he was about to crawl over to the front door once he confirmed it really was her, all safe and sound at home, though... she turned around immediately when miles' gazed lingered on her back while she was all clad in... a spider suit? "is that... spider woman's?" he asked himself as her gaze suddenly met his, and– "you?!" he exclaimed as he almost lost his grip on the wall he was scaling, nearly falling down to the sidewalk below if you didn't rush to your window and shoot a web on him, catching him before he fell.

miles caught his breath and lost it again as he stared up at you. "you're... the new girl." he murmured as you pulled him up and into your room. you hoped nobody saw you shoot a web at him, but miles was staring at you with enlarged eyes and a flustered face. "you knew... i was... wow. you stared at me a whole lot today, then..." he realized as he soon smiled to himself as you webbed his mouth. "...not another word, morales." you said in an embarrassed tone as you looked away from him, evidently flustered that miles discovered your true self; the self that was... kinda interested in being friends with miles.

miles ripped your webbing off his mouth as he winced and slightly smirked at you. "if you wanted to be friends, all you needed was to say it, i would love to be friends, not just sidekick and heroine." he said with a chuckle as you crossed your arms over your chest. "not happening." "well it did happen since you invited me over..." "i invited miles morales, not spider man." "it's a two-in-one deal, either you take it or leave it, and i know you wanna take it." miles teased you as you looked at him from the corner of your eye, trying to conceal your flustered expression. you sighed as you sat down on your bed, with miles following you and sitting down next to you. you extended your hand out to him. "fine. to being friends, i guess." you muttered as miles took your hand in his and shook it, with a big grin on his face. "to being friends... and being my sidekick–ow!" he exclaimed as you jokingly punched him when he called you his sidekick. looks like brooklyn has two new defenders, and two new... not really enemies trying to be friends and living as normal teenagers, more or less!

tags !! @k4tsu3 @fiannee @luvstarrstruck @toneystank-3000 @ii01vq @maxoloqy @popeheywardssecretgf @solecitoszn

[pastryland]

lestappen completed fic recommendations

If any of the authors of the fics mentioned here or are tagged and don't want their fics to be here, please let me know and I'll remove it!

Will update this list periodically

❤️ = favorite

⭐️ = I love fics by this author in general

❌ = triggering themes

🔥 = explicit

Devils roll their dice (Angels roll their eyes) - 55k - 🔥

It all started with a crash. Well, technically, it started with a blue-eyed boy with blonde hair getting screamed at in a language he couldn’t understand when he was only 12 years old. He remembered looking at the boy, who couldn’t be much older than himself - (two weeks older, to be exact, he’d learn later) - and watching the spark disappear right out of those icy blue eyes. That was the first memory Charles Leclerc had of Max Verstappen: Watching Jos Verstappen, Max’s own father, scream at this 12 year old child with an intensity that turned his face red and made every blood vessel in his neck look dangerously close to bursting. But if anyone ever were to ask Charles when he started to realize that his feelings towards that same Max Verstappen he had known since childhood had begun to change into something else, something bigger, something terrifying he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - quite put his finger on, he would say that it all started with a crash.Because of fucking course it did.--- OR: The slow-burn story of Lestappen that has brought me back from the dead, which starts with Max's crash at Silverstone in 2021.

salad days - 48k - ❤️ 🔥

“You think you are so much better –“ “I know I am,” Max cut him off again. “But that doesn’t mean that I can’t be beat.” “You want me to beat you?” “I want you to fucking try,” Max said, and over the phone, Charles could hear his cocky little grin. Charles found himself grinning back.

half of a heaven - 39k - ❌ 🔥

“Good evening. I’m Charles,” he offers his hand, which Max takes and for a second, Charles thinks he’s going to kiss the back of it. Some muscle spasms in the tight grip, rough velvet against soft skin. When Charles gets his hand back, it feels like he lost a finger or two in the fight. “What’s your poison, Charles?” Max asks, settling on the barstool like it’s not designed to be the most uncomfortable chair in the world. “Cyanide, usually. I’ll settle for a gin tonic for now.” or, Charles is a supermodel that has learned everything he needs to make his world turn. Now, he has no idea what Max Verstappen wants from him.

glitch - 26k - ❤️ ⭐️

Max hums. “Well, at least that means I won’t bump into Charles Leclerc again.” “Bummer, really,” Daniel says, moving back to his own seat and drinking the little bit of coffee that was still in the cup. “Could’ve been the start of a great love story.” Lando snorts. “Kids, it all started when I told your father, who had won two World Driver Championships at that point, that he sucked at driving.” Max sticks his middle finger up at them, and pulls his noise canceling headphones back over his ears. Only two hours left to go, he thinks, wistfully, and goes back to work.

all's well that ends well (to end up with you) - 21k - 🔥

"I was going to propose to him, and now I think he's going to leave me, so yeah, please… tell me how this could possibly get any fucking worse?" Lando gulps. "I uh... might have... misplaced the ring." *** In which it's summer break, and Max has an engagement ring with a gem the color of the Monaco sea locked in a safe in his closet. He wants to propose to Charles, and he enlists Lando, Oscar, Pierre, and a few other drivers to help make the proposal everything Charles deserves. But nothing in Max's life can ever be simple, and as Mission Lestappen Proposal™ unfolds, Max knows Charles is keeping something important from him. Max can survive Lando losing the ring. But he knows he can't survive losing Charles.

Rules of Engagement - 7k - ❤️ ⭐️

“Take me with you then!” Max felt his eyes go wide, his jaw literally dropping at the suggestion. “Tell them I’m like. Say I’m your fiancé, mate.” The heat had melted Charles’s brain, Max decided, staring at him blankly. “No.” He deadpanned. “Mate it’s genius! You won’t have to do anything, just stand there. Let me handle it. Them. The women.”

mr predestined and the flying dutchman - 80k - 🔥

Max Verstappen, an infamous child actor fresh out of rehab, and Hollywood's rising darling, Charles Leclerc, share nothing in common. Therefore, it's a field day for the public when the two are spotted out on a series of dates, days after they have been confirmed to star in blockbusters coming out the same day. It seems surprising that pretty boy Charles would dirty his hands with the complex intensity of Max, after the traumatizing scandal which led to Max being in rehab in the first place – but the press eats up their laughs like honey, and comment on their every single move. Perhaps this is where the ball drops – because Charles and Max are not as in love as they're portrayed to be. In fact, they're not even dating. Red Bull Records has already lost two of their celebrities to the whirlwind that was the infamy of 2019, and Ferrari Entertainment is dying to claim the next big star. What could go wrong in working together to kill two birds with one stone?

Second Time's the Charm - 7k - ⭐️

“Remember when you said you’d set me up with someone? A few months ago, at George’s wedding?” Charles’s voice is still pinched, as if his throat is trying to suffocate him and put him out of his misery. “Maybe you could do that? If the offer is still standing.” Simultaneously: “How did you know you liked guys?” Max’s tone is flat, as it usually is when he tries to come off as entirely disinterested, but Lando knows his tricks. He shoots upright, looking down at Max with wide eyes before exclaiming, arguably, one of the worst possible responses: “Oh my god, Max, are you fucking gay?” Or: Charles and Max don't know how to date; Alex and Lando try their best to make it happen.

[switch-writer]

Can I request Johnny Cage hcs? He has such chaotic switch energy

Johnny Cage Tickle Headcanons

A/N: As a Johnny Cage fan since MK9, I love how Johnny SINGLE-HANDEDLY managed to get people who never played Mortal Kombat to love it. Its honestly too funny 😭 But! I love Johnny, he was always a fun little character. Nonetheless. It was fun writing these due to his goofy personality. Do enjoy!

• Right out of the way, he might as well have a sixth sense of telling if someone is ticklish and how to get them laughing, where to poke, etc.

• His energy is infinite so his hands will be jumping all over the place and tickle anywhere he can reach. He likes to jump from spot to spot. Very all over the place.

• He’ll stop once someone needs him to. He pushes people a little bit, but as long as they’re laughing and trying to push him off, he’ll stop for them. He’s kind hearted.

• …Although. You will certainly persuade him much easier if you feed him a compliment or two… or three… or many.

• “You want me to stop? Alright alright… BUT! First off! Who’s the most talented movie star out there? What was that? Say that again? Can’t hear you over the laughter!”

• He will also playfully put on a announcer voice and say things like “And the most ticklish fighter in the world goes to…!”

• He’ll often shove someone back down when they try to get up. If they have long hair? He shoves it in their face. Wearing a hat? In their face so they can’t see. Etc.

• He’d also probably take photos with the person quickly while they’re smiling then quickly go right back to tickles.

• His goal is just to make the person laugh any means necessary, including silly actions to make sure he succeeds.

• Once he knows someone is ticklish, he’d probably take a jab at their sides every so often and have a big grin that basically screams his cockiness. Almost as if he’s trying to say ‘I still know’ and so he can dangle it over their head.

• He’d also give a eyebrow raise whenever someone who’s ticklish snarks off, and wiggle his fingers as if to send the hint that they should watch it or else the movie star is gonna rush over and do his usual mischievous (and slightly annoying) acts.

• Despite all of this, this is probably as often as the rest of his antics. He’d tickle someone every so often just as he’d shove a camera in someone’s face every so often with the flash on.

• That being said, he knows when to be serious, and knows when someone is being direct with him. He’s a actor and knows what to look for in body language.

• …He’d still give a little poke though.

• And that leads to the flip side of things.

• He’s someone to slowly back away with his hands up and go ‘woah woah! Lets get rational here.’ With a nervous smile.

• He’d consider running but his ego says it’d be too cowardly, however, he can’t handle when someone stares at him in a dead serious manner yer clearly has the intent to tickle him. He’ll run. The seriousness makes Johnny panic even more so he’ll bolt it. Other than that, he’ll stand his ground.

• He’ll constantly grab at the other person’s hands to block them. If you’ve played MK11, you remember the mime time move where he’ll act like a mime and if you hit him, he’ll basically reflect the attack/block it then immediately hit the other person (sorta similar to his fatal blow in MK1) so think of it like that. He’ll grab hands when they come at him and try and flip the tables.

• He will flail, he kicks, he’ll wiggle, he will do anything to dodge the tickles. So sit on his waist and he’ll be a sitting duck. Straddle him or pin him or else you’ll have. 50% percent chance of being kicked.

• Once the tickles actually start? His hands will auto focus on getting your hands off. His nerves freak out and therefore his hands flip out and frantically try and get the sensations off. But he’ll usually give in after the first minute because he loses most of his strength.

• But his actual laugh is extremely contagious, it probably sounds a little goofy and a touch more high pitched than his normal laugh, but it’s a contagious laugh that’s loud. He’ll also sometimes start silent laughing at his limit.

• He’ll start backpedaling the moment the tickles start.

• Johnny maybe bold with his actions, such as when he takes pictures when tickling someone, but if someone takes a photo or dare I say a video of him, his face will go tomato red. He isn’t a man easily embarrassed, but there’s things that make him tomato red, and that’s one of them.

• If that video is ever mentioned, he will quiet down fast too.

• He’ll be a major giggler after the tickles stop. He’ll just slowly get up as he giggles, fixing his shades with a giggle. The tingles will linger for a moment with him.

• He’ll usually be mellow for the next 30 minutes or so too. He’ll be quieter and less obnoxious, but he’ll chat normally.

• Johnny also likes teasingly going ‘hey, 20 bucks a second’ just to quickly say it’s a joke in case someone tries to tickle persuasion into him, one look that hints tickles, he’ll quickly clear it up.

• Over all, Johnny thinks it’s amusing to do it to others, and is greatly embarrassing when he’s on the receiving end. But… it’s mostly fun, so that’s what matters to him!

Hopefully you enjoyed!

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Thranduil and Josie Pt. 157- Lucky Clover

Summary: Raven, Jace and Matthew chapter of backstories and new revelations.

*Warnings* language, angst, mentions of child loss, mentions of suicide, religion discussion

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

"No...no, get away....get away from my baby! leave me alone...no! Tauriel don't do it!! No...nooooooo!!!!"

"Raven! Wake up! Wake up, you're dreaming..." Jace firmly said as he tried to shake the distressed dhampir awake. The worried warlock had been faithfully sitting by her side as she slept, his contrasting eyes curiously studying her since they arrived at his remote refuge, trying to figure out why he was so drawn to the fiery haired and tempered dhampir.

Her eyes sprung open in panic and darted frantically all around the outlandish room that smelled of burning sage. A room that looked nothing like that of middle earth, but something of modern day living with hi-tech computerized gadgets all around, things she had only read about in futuristic novels. It also had a gothic witchy vibe, which that part she could at least relate too.

Then there was Jace, the gorgeous blue and brown eyed blonde, holding her hand as he sat beside her, which he hadn't even realized he was doing.

Raven jerked her hand away and jumped off of the simple single sized cot, adorning completely different attire than what she last remembered wearing.

"What the hell?? Where am I Jace??"

"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you." he grinned, but then instantly realized how stupid his jest was as Raven scoffed at him.

"Tell me where the fuck I am Jace...now!! Or I'll..."

"What? Set me on fire?? Burn down the only sanctuary you have? We saved you remember?? A simple thank you would be nice."

His tone was calm but cocky enough to get a retorting rise out of her.

"A thank you?? If not for me, you'd still be rotting in Jareth's dungeon. Where's my thanks for saving you?? Instead, you left me at the mercy of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. fucking Hyde!" she reeled, referring to Thranduil and his evil alter Elvenking persona, then marched over to the cathedral style window that held iron bars on the outside. "Oh, and that's just great. I lived my whole life behind these. So now I'm a prisoner again??"

"They're not to keep you in Raven. They're to help keep others out."

She glanced back at him with a softening look, then her electric blue eyes returned to the unfamiliar outside view from the top floor that displayed a dark outlying city street. The only light came from the waning gibbous moon which would soon be full for winter solstice and in the wide reaching distance was a lavish lit up world of humankind.

"Yeah well, they didn't work against Jareth when I was at LeBrat's."

"That's because you conjured him, basically leading him right to your doorstep with a welcome mat. Play with black magic, get black magic play back. Try to correctly say that fifty times in a row."

Jace's humor was sincerely playful but it was not helping, for Raven found none of it funny.

"I didn't know it would be him alright?? I didn't even know he existed. I wanted someone more like y...never mind. Can you not speak about Jar... him? As if I am not cursed enough."

Jace grinned in confidence, knowing she was going to say she wanted someone more like him.

"I never would have pegged you for the superstitious type."

"I'm not...well at least I never used to be. You know he'll find me Jace and if he don't, the dealers will.....even Thranduil."

"Hence why you are here. The elves will never come here and Jareth and Ravenna have never found me here yet. They can't find what they can't see. As far as vampires, this area is not their scene. Even they have preferences."

"Key word, yet. It won't stop the goblin king from searching all corners of the globe...and it goes to show just how much you know about vampires. We are too close. I can see the people which means if there's any dealers there, they'll sense me. People are kinda their thing, you know...food? They're always roaming the big cities, looking like any other human. Some even reside in them. Garrett told me all about it. Now, where are we??" Raven asked as her keen eyes continued to zoom in on the buffet of humans walking about in the nightlife, making her quite hungry herself.

"I know plenty about them actually. As you said, they tend to target the highly populated areas, which is why we are not in one. It's also how I have managed to stay off the radar. If you remain hidden, out of sight, like we are, they are less likely to sense you. To answer your question, we're in Manhattan, well, the suburbs of it."

"Out of sight, but not out of mind and we're in New York??? The United freaking States?? You FLEW me here, all this way?? That's like thousands of miles."

"Nine thousand to be exact and no...only part of the way. I didn't want your scent in the air for anyone to pick up our path, not to mention your dead weight of being passed out didn't exactly make for a light load, so I used a portal."

"A...portal?? Like Jareth can do?"

"Could do...but not without his ring that I saw you pick up inside the mountain when Gollum dropped it."

"Yeah, that...well, I don't even have it anymore. That bitch Tauriel took it from me and stupidly gave it to her looney tunes elf lord which has only amplified his assholiness. That's not all she took from me either." Raven reeled, still in shock over her loss that she didn't know quite how to speak about.

"Wait." she continued. "So, if you can teleport, then why didn't you just take me away before????"

"Because I didn't have my stele. As Jareth needs his ring to possess certain unique abilities, I need something as well. He had taken it upon my capture so I had to go back and retrieve it and my seraph blade too, after you had left."

"A...stele??"

"I'll show you some other time, what it is and how it works. It does so much more than just teleporting. This place? To the outside world, looks like an old abandoned church, even on the inside. When I said they can't find what they can't see, well...I meant it in the literal sense."

"Uhh, how?? It looks far from abandoned to me."

"Magic." Jace said as he now stood beside her and winked. "This is only one room. There's much more here...and there's others here like me too. We are well protected."

"So...anyone that walks in here...won't see what I see? Will they see us??"

"Well...Mudanes, or ordinary humans per se, won't and they can't just walk in. Iron bars and locks remember? Vampires etcetera, are a bit more tricky, which is obviously why you have to remain inside...Oh...and did I mention that my good friend is a vampire? Shocking eh?" Jace quipped as he folded his brawny arms over his broad chest.

Raven's head whipped to him. "No...you didn't. But...I..I remember now. There was one with you when you came for me...I...I saw him, smelled him. He reeked of some girly perfume and was wearing a pink necklace."

Jace chuckled. "Yeah, that's Matthew, but don't let the scent fool you. He's far from girly and quite dangerous when provoked, for he carries the blood rage gene. To put it simply, don't piss him off. Otherwise, he's one of the good ones. He actually resides in the civilian world of France but has personal business in the elven realm, which that's a whole 'nother story that isn't mine to tell. What I can say though, is that pink gem is no ordinary necklace. It's a runestone and is needed for what's to come. That part IS my business. It's all of ours. Anyways, you'll officially meet Matthew soon enough. He's out fetching some food for us...real food like burgers and fries, since I know you can survive on that."

Raven's throat burned with thirst for blood as he said that and her stomach also growled in hunger for a big fat medium rare double cheeseburger. Garrett used to bring her treats like that from the cities, back when he used to like her and protect her.

As she placed her hand on her grumbling stomach, she turned away from him and began to softly sob, for she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"He...they...took my baby away Jace....all to punish me for what I did to Thranduil. I am the reason he lost his family and has turned into what he is and now I have paid dearly for it...but..my baby...he or she didn't deserve that. I...I wanted to be a mom...I...I wanted to raise it to be good, unlike I was. My child...could have been the one thing to straighten me out...and someone that could have actually loved me."

Raven then broke down bawling as she lowered her head and leaned on the window sill.

"Hey...come here." Jace softly whispered and took her into his arms, cradling her head against his shoulder.

"I...I am so sorry Raven. I learned of the child after it was too late. Matthew sensed it in your blood loss. I wanted to come sooner but I knew it was too risky to attempt it alone. God, I'm so sorry for all the excuses. I...I never wanted to leave you back in the goblin realm, but I was outnumbered with Thranduil's army. He was never going to allow me to come with you and certainly not take you from him, which believe me, I wanted to so much. And...I do...I thank you so much for saving me. If only I could have saved you. Can you ever forgive me?"

Raven lifted her head and tear filled eyes to his as she sniffled and whimpered. "Why would you ever want to save someone like me?"

Jace's hand came to her cheek, his thumb gently wiping her tears. "Because I know there's good in you. I can see it. The fact that you wanted this child and to do right by him or her, proves that to me, but..I have even seen it in you long before that and I even told you so. You just want to be loved, which I know you have been deprived of and mistreated as well. I also know you have done some pretty terrible things, but you never deserved what my father had done to you or what Thranduil did to your child. Others feel differently, but there is nothing that can be done about that now, except that you can try to move forward and be a better person, which I know you can be...in fact, I think you want to be. Am I right?"

"Even if I do...I will still be hunted. Where am I going to move forward to? I have nowhere to go. I'm...alone..."

Raven lowered her head, only to have Jace's fingertips raise it by her chin and peer straight down into her sullen eyes.

"You are not alone. You have me. I'm here now and I will not leave you again unless you tell me to. I understand if you cannot forgive me or if you want to leave."

Raven was dumbfounded that he genuinely seemed to care for and respect her and she didn't exactly know how to react, for it's nothing she had ever experienced. The cynical side of her wanted to come out and tell him that he was full of shit, for she was scared to trust him again but...she couldn't do it, as his eyes and touch spoke the truth that he was real.

"Yes...I...I forgive you...and...I also thank you for what you have done for me. You...you're nothing like your father. If it weren't for your eyes, it would be quite hard to believe you're his son."

Now Jace's head lowered. "It...it must be hard for you to look at me. I am sure he is all you see in my similar eyes."

Raven's fingers now went to his chin, lifting his head up to see his ashamed eyes trying to avoid hers.

"Look at me Jace...please. I didn't mean it that way. I do not see him when I look in your eyes, for your eyes, they are beautiful and hold kindness and love within them. His are dark and full of hatred and evil. The eyes, they say, are the windows to the soul. Well, he does not have one...but you do. I see it. I see...you. I...I smell you too." she said as her brows furrowed, trying to figure out the scent. "You smell of...clover??"

He softly chuckled. "Yes. Ironic huh? That is your real name. Clover."

"Yeah...it definitely is strange. But..as you know, I do not go by that name anymore...although, I...I do like the way you say it."

Jace smiled, somewhat bashfully. "Well...Clover...I...I see you too."

A moment of mutual gazing was shared as Jace stroked her cheek and then in his bewitched state...he leaned forward. Raven softly gasped as his lips almost took hers...and then Matthew walked in, causing the two to quickly move away from each other.

He walked over and put the food on the table, then the tall, dark and handsome vamp, appearing to be in his late 30's upon rebirth and all dressed in black, approached Raven with observing sapphires and both a tantalizing and intimidating smile.

"Hello Raven. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Raven stood fidgeting with her fingers, feeling a bit anxious after Jace told her that Matthew possessed the blood rage gene. She knew what that was, for her father, Craven, possessed it. It was either a genetic illness that was carried over from their human life or it could also be passed on to them when they are reborn from a vampire carrier's bite. It also surprisingly allowed an infected vampire to create children with female humans, witches or even other vampires. The most susceptible to it were witches known as weavers, a rare breed of witch with the strongest abilities and capable of creating spells that don't exist, something you unknowingly inherited from Caroline and would pass down to Leean. But, the main reason Raven was concerned was because it carried the term blood rage for a very good reason. When ignited, due to strong emotions such as anger, fear, anxiety and extreme hunger, it became uncontrollable, although when provided with a support, hope and love, it could be manageable. Had she inherited the gene from Craven? Was that why she was a blood thirsty child and always so angry, having multiple fiery meltdowns throughout her existence? Either way, on egg shells she would now walk around the vampire that Jace told her not to piss off.

"I am very sorry for your loss. I hope someday, you will find forgiveness in your heart as you also seek it yourself. As you know, the she-elf that was ordered to carry out the devilish act, was placed in a very compromising position. It was not her wish to cause you or your child harm and she, herself, has been scarred by the loss. King Thranduil, far worse than she, for his mind has been altered by, as you know, none other than a demon warlock that needs to be stopped. Not even the Elvenking himself, in his right mind and especially without that citrine, would have carried out such evil. An evil, you...brought him to. That evil, he will now face as it has become full circle."

Raven's eyes intensely grew and began to sting with her own rage.

"Whoa...you're...defending them?????"

Jace nudged her with his elbow, his own wide eyes reminding her to watch her step.

"Defend? No...stating facts, yes. I do not find them blameless. Tauriel still had a choice. Even Thranduil did, for he still knows of right and wrong. Of course, he chose wrong... again, hence what has happened to him."

"He hates me! He hated me even before Jareth's mind fucking. He still would have done it."

"And why is it that he hates you Raven? Other than the fact you took him away from his family and set this all into motion? A... choice...you also had and chose wrong. Did you not deceive his Queen, your own sister, all out of jealousy regarding the vampire King Garrett Lee and because of your secret desires for the elf lord you also harbored?"

"What the hell? How...do you know all of this and....what is your infatuation with the elves anyways??"

"Come...sit and eat. I will tell you. I hope you like cheeseburgers, medium rare?"

Raven's mouth now gaped to match her eyes. She sat down, opposite the daunting vampire who then placed two burgers and fries in front of her and a bucket of Kentucky fried chicken at Jace's seat, which was right beside her. Of course, for Matthew, all he relished in was a bottle of red wine that he then poured for the warlock and herself.

All she could do was lightly gulp in confusion as her stunned blue eyes stared up at overly courteous vampire.

"Matty, my favorite, KFC. You rock brother...you...you got the biscuits too...right? With butter and honey?"

Matthew grinned and reached into the bag, then slid another box over to him at lightning speed, in which Jace gracefully caught, sporting a curled smirk of satisfaction.

Jace tore into his chicken in the typical hungry man way as Raven sat watching him in astonishment while Matthew sat silently, sipping his vintage while eyeing her.

Jace could feel her eyes upon him and suddenly ceased his meat ravaging to lock his eyes upon her.

"You want a piece?" the greasy chinned warlock asked with a mouth full of food, making her lightly giggle.

"I...I've never had that." she softly answered.

"What??? Sacrilege girl. Here."

Jace reached in the bucket and pulled out a chicken leg, then plopped it down on her plate. Her stomach turned as she then watched Jace suck his piece down to the bone, for it reminded her of Gollum's legs.

Raven offered a queasy smile, then unwrapped her burger instead. Moments later, she found herself indulging it just as Jace had, not realizing just how famished she really was. Hearing both the warlock and vampire chuckle at her, had her setting the sandwich down to shyly wipe her lips with a napkin, then awkwardly began nibbling on her fries.

"To answer your questions Raven, I have many gifts, sight being one of them, past, present and future, either while dreaming or during my waking hours. I know more about you than you do. The elves...well, they have been part of my future visions." Matthew explained and then continued after pouring himself another glass of wine.

"Do you believe in destiny?"

"You mean...like...love..and all?"

"Yes, that can be part of it. But just your overall future. I've seen many things. My own destination as well. It involves your sister and your niece...it even involves you."

"M...me? How am I involved in their lives? Josie hates me and will soon want to kill me even."

"That may be so, her feelings anyways."

Matthew took a hefty gulp and then sat straight up, leaning into the table.

"But...it will all change. You will be a part of her life again. I have seen it. She will need you."

He then sat back and relaxed again, returning to his wine. "With that said, the future can always change due to our actions. It all depends on you now, if you want redemption and to be a part of a family."

"Wait...you're telling me that I...will be accepted by her after what I have done to her husband? What exactly did you see??"

"I cannot tell you that, for then, you could change it's course by throwing a monkey wrench into it. It would be in your best interest if that did not happen. You see, there are some things that should not be told for various reasons. For example, I knew Thranduil was alive after a vision I received from a shooting star one night that revealed my own destiny."

"So you knew he was alive and...did not tell Josie??"

"Would you have? Knowing what her King had become, forced to despise her. What a terrible pain that would inflict upon her after all she has suffered, only to lose him all over again while he walks and breathes. Now, of course, she will soon learn the truth and with that said, another of those various reasons I mentioned would be that there are other things that need to take place until she is made aware."

"That...makes no sense. If she had known earlier, many things could have been changed??"

"It is not meant to make sense. You must trust the process., for it is all occurring for a reason. A war is coming, a storm like no other and the Thranduil before us all now is well suited for it, more than ever. The one thing we all have in common is Jareth's destruction and all the evil he will bring forth this winter's solstice that is merely two weeks away. The fact that Thranduil has the citrine in his possession, did you think that was an accident? If he had been rescued before he was, Jareth would still have it. It is one of the key items in ending him, along with the gem I wear. There are other runes that will be needed as well. Your sister...she will collect them. She also will find the biggest necessity, Ashmole, for even I cannot see it's placement, for I have spent 150 year searching for it. Only a witch can. If she had left Dowrinion to find her King, it would have thrown everything off course. With all this said...Jace, you will need to go to her, alone, for you will be needed to aid her in locating one of the last two runes."

"Yeah well, if only Thranduil had killed Jareth when he had the chance, none of this would be happening....and if you know the whereabouts of these runes, why have you not just gone and got them yourself?" Raven asked, as politely as she could in her frustration of brain overload.

Matthew sat back up to the table with a serious expression. "If Jareth could be killed, we wouldn't need the book, now would we? And I do not know the location of the gems, I have only seen them in Josephine's possession. I may have the gift of sight, but I do not know all. I am not God."

"Ok...so you're telling me that if Thranduil would have beheaded Jareth's ass, he wouldn't have died?? and....you...believe in God???"

Matthew plopped back in his chair and guzzled his glass of wine to the last drop, then heavily sighed.

"That is exactly what I am telling you. The goblin king's revival brought about by his brother Julian using the spell in that book, protects him and his body. How do you think he rose from the fiery pits of hell just recently? No sword will pierce him, no fire will burn him, no magic will destroy him unless it is from that book and those stones!!! It can temporarily weaken him, but that is it. He will just keep coming back like a stray cat if you feed it and he'll get stronger each time just as the cat will grow fatter. Thranduil knew this which is why he did not even try."

The vexed vampire poured another glass, trying to calm his emotions before he went on, while Raven sat frozen in fear as she witnessed his hand trembling while he drank.

"Now...God, you ask...I do believe in him. I was a devout catholic before I met my fate fifteen hundred years ago. I was 37 and aided the local church in a small France village, helping to restore it, for I was a carpenter. I had a wife and a son back then, both taken by a plague that wiped out most of the village, yet I never contracted it. I wanted to end my life when that happened and I tried, even believing I would go to hell for it. I jumped from the scaffolding and laid alone on the ground, broken, bloodied and still breathing. That is when I met my maker, and it wasn't God. It was my mother vampire who offered me the alternative to facing damnation and God himself by atoning for my sin through service, ridding the world of evil, much like Garrett does. She and her husband became my new family as Matthew Roydon died and Matthew De Clermont was born. Tell me, Clover...do you believe in God?"

"Somehow I think you already know my answer since you know everything about me and I've never even met you."

"Eh well, we'll be seeing plenty more of each other for you to know me better. It's time for me to go get my own dinner. Don't wait up kids...or do anything I wouldn't do. Raven...I hope you are feeling better."

Matthew winked at Jace, knocked back his remaining liquid and then headed out.

"Are you...feeling better?" Jace then asked her.

"Strangely...yes? Shouldn't I be cramping and still bleeding? At least, that's what I've read about miscarriages, although that's not exactly what happened to me."

"Matthew took care of that for you once we arrived here." he explained and continued eating his last piece of chicken.

"So...he's a healer too??"

"Yep...hey ummm, you gonna eat...that?" Jace asked as he puppy eyed her second cheeseburger.

"Uhhh...no...help yourself."

"Annnd...what about the chicken leg?"

Raven chuckled. "Take it. You don't wanna know what I think about that. Trust me or you won't be able to unsee it."

"Noted. Don't tell me." he laughed and swiped it up.

"Sooo...when are you going to go to Dorwinion? He told you to go alone...so does that mean I am going to be left here with a blood rage vampire?"

"He's not going to hurt you. He has more control than you think and you'll definitely be in good hands with him, just try and watch that spicy mouth of yours. It's really not that hard. I'll probably go in a few days after I know all is well here and..."

Jace finished the chicken and just stared at the burger as if something was bothering him.

"And??"

"And well...I have to face my sister knowing her husband is alive. Like, do I tell her? I mean...how, do I even tell her, considering what Thranduil is now? I've only met her once and...like, I love her already. I have no family but her. I guess there's still Jules, but he still isn't himself either thanks to Jareth and Harker. Speaking of Harker, he has one of the stones, the crystal. I wonder how Josie is going to get it like Matthew said?"

"I...I don't know...I..."

Raven sighed and picked at her remaining cold fries.

"Hey...what's wrong?"

"I...well...you know how Matthew said somethings shouldn't be told? I guess I am debating on one of those things....because it will hurt someone....and like you, I...I don't know how to tell them."

"Ok...well, tell me about it. Maybe I can help?"

Jace couldn't help, for he would be the one needing help. Raven knew the truth about her sister's true father and it wasn't Jareth like all were led to believe by Caroline and she knew that information would crush Jace.

"Jace....I...."

Raven grunted and threw her hands over her face, then ripped them down, releasing a hard sigh.

"Ok...Raven?? Now you're starting to worry me. What is going on? You have to tell me."

"Arrrgh!" she snapped and got up to pace. "Ok...ok...the person is you Jace."

Now he stood up and walked over to her, gently taking her arm to turn her around.

"What do you mean? There's something you know about me that will hurt me?"

"I...I should have never opened my spicy mouth!"

"Raven....tell me now. Spit it out." he flatly said.

Jace towered over her with pursed lips, peering down firmly with his brown eye darkening and his blue eye brightening, only causing her to clam up even more.

"Raven! You do NOT want my eyes to turn yellow." he shouted.

"Ok! Ok! Josie...she's not your sister....Julian is really her father after all."

"W...what??"

"My mother...she lied to Jareth all to hurt Julian for sleeping with her twin and not knowing the difference."

"How the hell do you know this???"

"Look...it came up in some conversation on our journey back to Rivendell. I sat and listened. There's this buy...Boromir...who claims his brother...some Faramir guy is Josie's twin. I guess my mother hid it from Julian and gave the boy away to these people. It's some long fucked up story."

"Hearsay...you want me to believe something you overheard with no facts??"

"Jace...It's...it's true. I...I'm sorry. That Faramir guy, he has powers now that he never had and the Boromir dude, he...he saw the truth in Galadriel's fountain, the one that shows the future...he saw Faramir, Josie and Julian together, and the guy called Julian father...if my mother had twins and Julian is his father....then he is...my sister's too...which only makes her....your cousin. But, that's still family Jace....she's still your...family. It changes nothing."

"It changes everything Raven." he flatly spoke once again and went to stare out the window. "Who's to say this guy isn't lying??? I mean, who the fuck is he anyways??"

"I don't know who he is really, just that he's a good friend of Aragorn's and...why would he lie? He traveled clear from Gondor to find my sister and tell her. He was there at Jareth's, helping to free Thranduil, only you never saw him."

"Gee, I don't know Raven. Maybe your sick and twisted mother put him up to it before she died for whatever fucked up reason. It...it can't be true...it just can't be...I...I learned about Josie when I was a teen. Jareth...he let it slip in a bout of anger one night when he and I were arguing, but I knew nothing more about her or how to find her...I..I didn't even know her name then. I was so angry that I was never told and I was so fed up with him and my mother as it was for all the evil shit they did, that I left, and never looked back. I didn't want to be like them. I wanted to be a part of a normal family, with love...and love was forbidden in my world. I had witnessed what they did to my aunt Freya, forcing her to turn dark and it all was just the last straw... So I went searching for Josie and have been ever since...all these years Raven, and I finally found her and she was everything I knew and felt she would be...good and sweet and...she loved me back. I...I can't lose that Raven....I...I just can't...."

Raven gently took his arm and made him turn to look at her. His face was full of pure anger and pain, his eyes glistening of tears, eyes that he refused to hold up to her sympathetic gaze....and her heart desperately broke for him. For once in her life, she felt love. Real love.

"Now it is my turn to comfort you. Come here."

As soon as Raven's arms pulled him in, Jace broke down crying into her neck as he held her so tight.

'I...I don't want to be alone anymore Clover..." he muttered into her cinnamon scented hair.

"You don't have to be anymore. I...I'm here. Your lucky Clover." she softly assured him as she made him look at her and then...she did something that even surprised her. The dhampir kissed the warlock.

@redeemer46

[unohanaswetdream]

The Island of Viridian

summary- It had been a while since Kidd has gotten his hands dirty leaving him being constantly on the edge, so how do you fix it ? By having a picnic so he can get his hands dirty when eating !!

AO3

3.2k words

WARNINGS - swearing, sexual references & 18+ as it is written w mature audiences in mind

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The island of Viridian, the name deriving itself from how its perfect mix of emerald and soft blue waters reflect itself onto the large limestone cliff faces to create a viridian hue against them. Within the vibrant grassy gorges lays the small town of Viridian which may or may not be standing after the departure of the Kidd Pirates. But right now, the story is not concerned with that, instead the storyline settles with you and your time alone with Kidd.

The sea breeze wafted into your nose leaving you with a giddy smile, you had waited nearly over a month - since the last time you left land - to put into action the plan you devised with the help of Killer, a picnic !

However, was Kidd grumbling behind you while you walked with little skips integrated with your stride ? Yes. Did he secretly enjoy the bright look of joy on your face ? Also, yes.

While he always made a point to complain, you never let that effected your mood because you knew he was not the best at expressing himself in a vulnerable way so you learnt that with you it meant he was secretly enjoying it.

‘Would you stop that’, you scolded only making yourself look more adorable to Kidd, with your eyebrows all frowned and pouty lips.

‘Are we there yet ?’

‘Kidd we just started walking stop acting like a baby !’

‘But I am your baby’, you both froze at what Kidd said, you could tell with the fastening of his pace he was embarrassed, and you could just imagine the bright red face he had to match his eyes and hair.

Pretending you did not hear him to make himself feel better you continued on.

‘You’ve been all jittery and agitated since we last left land because you haven’t had time or the opportunity to torture or kill someone so I thought of a way to help alleviate some of the stress you might be feeling’, your eyes shining with excitement as you explained to Kidd what today’s trip meant.

‘Are you taking me to torture someone’, his eyes and voice matching your excitement.

‘Kidd no !’

‘Don’t tell me it is more than one person i get to torture ?’, his eyes glassed over with the thought of all the things he could do.

‘Wow torturing people is more important than spending time with your partner’, you grumbled  shoving the basket into Kidd’s right hand and pretending to be hurt so he could comfort you.

Kidd shove the basket to his metal hand so he could get closer to you to press a soft affection kiss to your cheeks, ‘babe you know I was just joking, it’s good to finally get away from those stinky pirates and have alone time with you’, his voice going quieter and quieter with each passing word due to his ever-growing shyness.

You were ever so proud of how far Kidd had come in this relationship, a month ago he would be too sheepish to share that information but now he was becoming more comfortable with you to express his emotions. Yeah, you had known him since he and Killer were kids but he can still surprise you now.

‘I’m a pirate too ! Does that mean I am stinky ?’, you asked with a grin.

‘Yeah, but you stink nice, why to you think I keep your underwear’, Kidd responded going back to his cocky smirky self. 

‘Oh my god, is that why they keep disappearing’, you let out a light airy laugh, smile lines appearing at the corners of your eyes.

At that moment Kidd’s insides turned into mush, hearing your laugh was like nothing he had ever heard before and even the same goes for your voice, it made you shine brighter than the sun, yet he could never look away and he felt as though you made him see the world in a way he didn’t before he had you or realised, he had you. The once grey palate of the world now shone with colours that never existed until you completely became his, the saturation of the world he now experienced with you because of you secretly made him feel like a blushing giggling schoolgirl.

‘Then stop wearing the colour red’, his voice dropping an octave at the lustful thought swimming around in his head.

‘Captain, take that back you know you’ll regret making me stop wearing your favourite colour’, you exclaimed while nudging him with your shoulder.

He stated firmly that he never regrets anything so to test that, you took off your red underwear and threw it over the cliff into the crashing waves below and it was safe to say he finally now had something to regret. Did he explicitly state that I regret it, sorry ? No but did he say i am going to have to send Wire to go search for it and get extra in case the same happens again ? Yes, it did not matter how he said it because at the end of the day you knew that’s what he meant. But he was amused nonetheless showing you a toothy grin that made you feel all fuzzy on the inside at the rare site.

‘I can’t believe you just made me do that’, pouting because you did not think this far ahead nor predict you would lose your underwear especially in this circumstance.

‘It is because you love me’, he gloated.

Love. neither of you had yet dared to utter those three words to each other, not because you didn’t but because it just did not feel right, what is the point of saying I love you when you did not mean it ? Yet, you felt a shiver go down your spine and your tummy coil with yearning.

‘Ha my arse you wish’.

‘Exactly, my arse’, he responded as his right hand went to give your butt a loud smack causing you to almost trip in surprise and glare back at his smug expression, his goggles casting a shadow over his eyes to shield you from the deep emotions that settled within them.

You kept journeying on, with Kidd occasionally grabbing you by your left arm and throwing you over his shoulder so you don’t get too enamoured by the water and fall of the cliffs edge and by too close it meant you being more than 10 meters away from the edge because you never know what might happen, maybe an earthquake that sends the cliff crumbling and smashes you into tiny pieces. In which you just rolled your eyes at his wild imagination.

‘There is a fault in your responds because didn’t you specially make me a belt that is interweaved with metal in case something happens to me, and you can drag me out of danger and to you ? Or do you not trust your abilities’.

‘Do not give me that attitude silly little one nor question my abilities and trustworthiness’, he responded while putting you and your victory face down.

‘But don’t get all proud and happy that you won this time’, he grumbled out while shoving the picnic basket into your hands.

You did not really know where you were going to situate yourself and Kidd to eat, you just kept petter pattering around until you found the ideal place and it paid off, you found some very old dark wooden possibly unstable stairs that led down to a cave entrance.

‘Are you going to kill me’, amusement making itself home in Kidd’s tone.

‘If I was, I would’ve done it while on top of you and accidentally squeeze my hand too hard, plus isn’t it too suspicious if I only took you and came back to the Victorian Punk alone’, you explained, like you had experience in taking people into caves to kill them.

Even without a devil fruit you were able to rival the power of the Supernova which often surprised new recruits when you had to round up Kidd when he got out of hand often without the assistance of Killer, hence the reason Kidd let you in his crew because even as a child he saw your potential and agency for freedom. And maybe because of the connection you had with Doruyanaika, a girl you’d always view as a hero for being the first person to beat up both Killer and Kidd.

The creaky old mahogany stairs led not only into the cave but through different passages of the cave were it sat above the water, the soft sounds of waves crashing emanating within the walls of the cavern. The cave was unlike anything you had seen before, there were vines with plum-coloured leaves wrapped around the rails of the stairs, the water was not like any normal water, instead it was lit up with speckles of cerulean coloured bioluminescent which almost mimicked the colour of a clear sky, delicate pink lily pads cruising along the surface with fish making ripples in the water. Calcite hung off the walls, shimmering almost the same hue as the water due to the light reflecting off the surface encouraging the cerulean colour to bounce off of the clear crystals lighting up the cave in the same way a lantern would.

Your eyes sparkled bright with excitement as you turn to Kid, ‘isn’t this the most beautiful thing you have ever seen’, you voice echoing off the cave walls.

With his usual disinterested tone he replied, ‘not really’.

You pushed your hair back in annoyance, ‘seriously ?’.

‘Yeah, I wake up with you by my side everyday babe’.

You were shocked that, that came out of his mouth, you almost turned into melted butter so slippery and messy no one would be able to put you back together. Your cheeks feeling like they were on overdrive about to burst into flames.

‘HA, I won. See I told you not to act all proud and happy that you won the last argument’, his deep, purple-coloured lips pulling up in a grin you wanted to wipe off.

‘Wow is this relationship really just one upping another ?’, you questioned as you crossed your arms ready to sulk.

His tone became soft, well for Kidd standards, ’love, I know we pull each other’s legs a lot’, his hand going to gently crease your face.

‘But I really meant it, having you by my side has meant everything, especially when you’re powerful, goddamn you’re hot when you fight me’, growling the last part of his sentence.

‘Kidddddd’, you whined as you turn to softly place a kiss on his hand that was brushing your face.

‘What ?’, his gruff voice making its comeback.

You look down at your feet feeling an overwhelming sense of shyness, something relatively new to you, ‘when you act like a big soft bear you make me feel like my hearts gonna explode’.

‘You are as strong as me and you’re gonna let something like that kill you and do not ever refer to me as that horrendous name again.’

‘I’m gonna say that in front of the crew my big soft bear’.

‘You wouldn’t dare’, his voice getting dangerously low and if you weren’t well, you, you’d see it as threatening.

‘OH, I wou-‘, you unfortunately were not able to continue as before you knew it Kidd’s flesh hand had made it to your side to tickle you and throw you over his shoulder, but not before he took the basket out of your hand with his metal one.

‘Another point to you’, you grumbled against his fur covered back earning yourself a deep chuckle from Kidd along with another slap on your arse.

Kidd had noticed sunlight coming in from the other side of the cave in which you both decided it was a good idea to follow to see if you could possibly find a beach to eat on that was not just huge cliffs.

At the opening of the cave, Kidd abruptly stopped along with his breathing which you almost missed, ‘wow’, his voice breathy in awe.

‘What, what is it ?’, manoeuvring  your body to try and get off him.

‘Patience love and buckle up, you’re gonna love this’, Kidd’s grip tightening on you.

Finally, he stepped out into the light causing your eyes to flutter shut due to the intensity. However, once your eye’s adjusted Kidd was right you were absolutely in love with this view, the sand was reminiscent of charcoal and the limestone all around you had marbling of black, white and grey in its stone.  The colour of the water ever so vibrant and opaque compared to the more translucent waters at the dock due to the black underlay that harboured itself at the current beach you were on.

Eventually Kidd dropped you down back onto your feet to find yourselves a place to settle on the beach.

Unrolling the red throw blanket that you made for Kidd’s birthday that had smoke like embroidered swirls of a deep wine that reminded you of his lips and black onto the sandy floor. Once seated you took all the food out to perfectly arrange the colourful dishes and foods in a way to avoid the colours from clashing with each other, otherwise it would make you uneasy when eating.

Kidd always noticed how you arranged your food specifically when eating out with the crew, even though some people may have viewed it as unnecessary he held it close to his heart because to him it illustrated that you cared, you looked after everyone when you didn’t have to, you considered his crew, his family as an extension of yours. You accepted him, he did not know why he was surprised at this despite knowing you since you both were children, but it knocked the air out of his lungs and his eyes unable to focus on anything but your gorgeous face he has always held dearly and closely to himself. The small things you did for him affected him in ways he never showed, and he hated that he acted that way, he hated that maybe you did not feel his love due to his constant emotional constipation, that maybe you thought you were not doing enough for him. But god, you were better than he ever deserved and he was willing to spend every day every night working on himself to finally be the man you deserved and more.

You heard a soft call of your name, one that you almost missed, ‘Kidd?’, you replied reaching out to place your hand on one of his legs.

Showing you one of his rare smiles, he grabbed your hand that rested on his leg to bring it up to his lip so he could brush them across your knuckles, ‘thank you for today, I really mean it and I hope it shows but if it doesn’t please tell me I want this to work, I don’t think I could live with myself if I found out my actions made you feel lonely and isolated, I don’t want us to lose our relationship let alone our many years of friendship because of me being a cunt’.

Shifting yourself so you could nestle into Kidd’s lap, you turned to him your eyes full of love and admiration ‘Kidd I know you’re emotionally constipated it is fine, I understand after all, we are childhood friends I have learnt to read what your silly little moods and comments really mean’.

You rested your head against his chest and sealed your sentence with a kiss on his scarred chest. He did not respond however with his metal hand he pulled your head tight against his chest, the coldness sending shivers down your spine while his other hand found  its way into your hair.  With the light thudding of Kidd’s heart along with the harsh crashes of the waves it slowly lulled you away from reality into the depths of your mind, your eyes flickering shut.

You never thought you could bag this big grumpy brute, a crush that would become nothing more than a mere dream you believed. You had watched him leave taverns with a hand in his while you did the same ignoring the ache in your heart. You watched him boast about his conquests and how quick he could make them cum causing you to look down at your feet. Yet, you never noticed the jealousy in his tone when he asked about people you slept with or the sneer when he said he could do you better than them.

You brushed off his flirting and chalked it up to him just making fun of you.

Kid brushed off your flirting and chalked it up to being one of the only men around you.

Yet you both had been blinded to how the other would watch the other as they left with a partner for the night. How their stares would linger on the hickeys that decorated the others body. How one of you would stay longer than needed on top of the other to catch your breath after fighting in order to relish the feeling of your bodies being so close together. Or how both of you seemed happier in the others presence.

Now within a few months of being together you were seen as the Worst Generation’s power couple.

A sudden urge flooded through you causing you to open your eyes and shift positions to straddle him. Your eyes met his with fiery hot passion, your lips leaning up to his and his down to yours to meet in the middle, your hand going to cup the back of his head. The kiss was filled with emotions that none of you believed were ready to confront, his lips leaving you with the after taste of salt reminding you that you were still on the beach. Your hand slipped under the strap of his goggles to take them making you pull back and giggle as you tightened the way too big goggles to fit your head. Kidd watched you with an expression that is so familiar yet foreign as he laid down on the throw to admire the view of your beautiful smiling face wearing HIS goggles.

Now with the goggles gone you could see his eyes more clearly than ever. Everything felt like it was crashing into you as you had the realisation that now you were finally able to understand how you felt for Kidd and how he felt for you, you never knew something of this magnitude would occur like this all at once like a tidal wave. Yet, it was comforting, not overwhelming because for the first time in forever you felt complete, free and content because at the end of the day he was your home and you were his.

You lent down taking a deep breath in, your lips barely brushing his, your voice scarcely above a whisper, your nerves going into overdrive, ‘I love you’. Your sweet velvety voice sent shivers down Kidd’s spine, his heart racing like he just did Killers weights at your confession, with the biggest dopiest grin he captured your lips one final time before nipping your earlobe and huskily whispering an I love you too baby.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡