#no matter how close i got i was too quiet

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Lily's Touch

Poly!Marauders + Lily x Reader who's experiencing her first heat...

Summary: The reader is experiencing her first heat, and nothing matter how hard she tries, she can't get the nest right.

WC: 1.4k

CW: Omegaverse, grammar and spelling, not proof read, references of intense emotions and the reader is elf conscious.

Remus knew it was coming- everyone did.

Seven years of Hogwarts, two years of living with your mates, and not once had you experienced a heat.

It didn’t bother him, not really. It didn’t bother any of them, but they all knew how much it bothered you. The way your shoulders tensed when Lily went into heat, how you’d quietly dote on her with sweet affections, offering soothing touches and cups of tea. But when it came to yourself, you withdrew, closing in on yourself like you didn’t deserve the same attention. You never said it outright, but they could see it- the way you felt left behind, as though your body had somehow failed you. It broke his heart.

They’d tried to comfort you in countless ways. Late-night reassurances, Remus’s soft words murmured over cocoa, James’s hand squeezing yours with that protective and reassuring energy, Sirius teasing you relentlessly until you couldn’t help but laugh, and Lily’s endless supply of comfort. They’d spent nights making sure you knew that even if you never went into heat, even if your body never did what you expected, it wouldn’t change how much they loved you. You were theirs, no matter what. But words only went so far.

Yesterday, everything changed.Remus was the first to notice.

It started small; little things, like the way you trailed after them through the house, never straying too far from anyone’s side. You clung to Sirius’s shirt that morning as he made breakfast, your fingers twisting in the fabric absentmindedly. Sirius had given you a curious look but said nothing, choosing instead to ruffle your hair and tease you lightly about being clingy. Normally, you’d respond with a sassy remark or a playful shove, but this time, you simply leaned into his touch with a quiet hum.

James noticed next. You curled up beside him on the couch, tucking yourself under his arm like you belonged there, and he didn’t question it. He simply wrapped an arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple while Lily smiled knowingly from across the room.

By midday, it was undeniable. You were restless, unsettled in a way none of them had seen before. Your instincts were bubbling just beneath the surface, tugging at you in directions you didn’t fully understand. And by evening, it all came to a head.

The last sign was when Remus got up to move. You’d been half-curled in Sirius’s lap, Remus’s fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your ankle. But the moment he shifted to stand, you stared at him, wide-eyed and panicked, as if the simple act of him moving away was too much to bear.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Remus cooed softly, pausing in place. He hadn’t meant to upset you, but the way your eyes began to water sent a sharp pang through his chest.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, your voice small and shaky. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Remus whispered gently, stepping closer again. “Come here.” He opened his arms, and you immediately clung to him, pressing your face into his jumper with a sniffle of a cry.

That night, Remus took you to bed with him, and the simple act of being close seemed to calm you. But it was only the beginning.

The next day, it became clear to everyone- this was it. You were going into heat for the first time.

No one said a word, not wanting to put pressure on you. The human body was strange, and any small thing could ruin this. They wanted you to experience it at your own pace, to live through it without the weight of expectations. But by afternoon, as everyone gathered in the living room, it became impossible to ignore.

You’d gotten it into your head that you needed to build a nest. It started with a pile of blankets and pillows in the corner of the room, but no matter how much you arranged and rearranged them, it didn’t feel right. You’d build it up, only to tear it apart moments later, frustration growing with every failed attempt.

Remus had seen it coming- how you were spiraling between uncertainty and instinct, your body and mind at odds with something new and overwhelming. It made his chest ache, watching you struggle to build your nest, tearing it apart moments later as frustration clouded your features. He wanted to reach out, to tell you again that it didn’t matter if it was perfect. That you didn’t need to prove anything to them. You were enough. You always had been.

But he knew better. You needed to figure it out in your own way. Still, he stayed close, crouched beside you, ready to help if you asked.

Lily’s voice was calm and soothing, her fingers brushing through your hair as she murmured reassurances. “It’s okay, love. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“But it feels wrong.” Your voice trembled, hands twisting in the fabric of a blanket as though it might somehow yield the answer you were looking for. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“It’s strange the first time,” Lily said gently, her hand never pausing in its soothing strokes. “You’re doing great, I promise.”

You didn’t seem convinced. Remus could see the doubt weighing on you, the way your shoulders tensed under Lily’s touch. It wasn’t frustration anymore; it was fear. Fear of doing it wrong. Fear of not being enough.

“You’re trying too hard,” he said softly, leaning in a little closer. “It’s okay to ask for help.”

“I don’t want to mess it up,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I just… I want to impress you. I want it to be good. I want to do it right for once.”

The words hit him harder than he expected. You didn’t need to impress them. You didn’t need to be anything other than who you already were. He reached out, gently taking your trembling hands in his own, giving them a soft squeeze. “You don’t have to impress us,” he said quietly. “We already think you’re incredible.”

James knelt beside you, hazel eyes warm with quiet affection. “We’re proud of you,” he whispered. “No matter what.”

Sirius plopped down on your other side, grinning as he draped an arm around your shoulders. “Come on then, what is it?”

You blinked at him, confused. “What’s what?”

Sirius shrugged, voice teasing but kind. “What’s that pretty head saying? What’s it want you to do?”

For a moment, you hesitated. Remus could see the conflict in your eyes, the way you bit your lip nervously. But then, something shifted. You let out a shaky breath, slowly rising to your feet. They all watched in silence as you paused, glancing around the room like you were searching for something. Your fingers twitched at your sides, your breathing uneven.

And then, as though pulled by an unseen thread, you turned and made your way toward the shared room. You hesitated at the door, casting a glance back at them, eyes uncertain, before stepping inside.

Remus followed quietly, stopping in the doorway as you approached Lily’s nest. He didn’t say anything, didn’t want to disturb whatever instinct was guiding you now. He only watched as you reached out, running your fingers over the soft blankets and pillows that made up Lily’s carefully crafted space.

You knelt down slowly, curling into the nest with a soft, content sigh, as though it was the only place you’d ever wanted to be. Lily covered her mouth with her hand, eyes glistening with unshed tears as she took in the sight of you nestled in her space. There was something unspoken between the two of you, something so deeply emotional that it made Remus’s throat tighten.

Of course. Of course, this was where you’d end up.

Was it really all that shocking? You had always been Lily’s girl. Always gravitated toward her warmth, her comfort. It made sense in a way that felt almost poetic, that your first heat would lead you to her nest, to the place where you felt safest.

Remus smiled softly to himself, heart aching with affection as he watched Lily crawl in beside you, wrapping her arms around you protectively. You sighed again, melting into her hold, and Remus knew- no matter how long it had taken, no matter how difficult it had been for you to get here- you were finally where you belonged.

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° i'm addicted to the ' if only '

♡ a/n — for a new childhood friends to lovers series :) a little shorter than i wanted but yk

♡ word count — 1.1k

♡ content — sae itoshi x gn! reader, gn! reader, childhood friends to lovers, sae and reader are the " sit by this quiet kid so they rub off on you " kids i fear, mentions of sae going to spain, starts when they're in 5th grade ( does japan do elementary grades like that? idk. ) and goes all the way to the U-20 game, wrote this at midnight so sorry if it's confusing

♡ synopsis — From the moment Sae Itoshi said he loved you, you were his. The long-distance relationship wasn’t easy, but it didn’t matter. You had Sae, and that was enough. He was all you needed after all.

You met Sae Itoshi when you were ten, in the fifth grade. You were the loud one, always raising your hand to answer questions, always running up to classmates to start games during recess. Sae, on the other hand, was quiet. His answers were sharp, direct, and to the point. He preferred to sit at the edge of the classroom, observing rather than participating.

When the teacher paired the two of you together for a science project, you knew immediately that this was going to be difficult.

"Can’t you just sit still for five minutes?" Sae asked, an exasperated edge to his voice as you twirled around with the sheet of paper that was supposed to outline your project plan.

"Nope!" you said with a grin. "Sitting still is boring."

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You’re impossible."

You should’ve hated him. He made it clear he found you irritating, and you had no interest in someone who acted like they were better than everyone else. But there was something about Sae that intrigued you—maybe it was the calmness that always seemed to settle around him, or the way he never tried to impress anyone.

To your surprise, by the time the project ended, he hadn’t abandoned you. Instead, he’d begrudgingly started helping you organize your thoughts, muttering under his breath every time you got distracted but staying by your side nonetheless.

Halfway through the school year, he stopped rolling his eyes when you dragged him outside to play soccer after school.

By the end of the year, you were spending every recess together. You teased him endlessly, calling him your best friend, even though he would only shrug in response.

But he never corrected you.

It wasn’t until you were twelve that you realized how much Sae had become a part of your life.

He wasn’t just your best friend—he was your favorite person. He was there for everything, from the boring group projects to the secret candy stash you shared during recess. He wasn’t just the quiet boy in the corner anymore. He was Sae, the person who made your days brighter without even trying.

One day, when you were both at the park, it hit you.

He was practicing soccer, as always. The golden light of the setting sun bathed his figure, making him look almost ethereal. He didn’t notice the way you were staring, too focused on juggling the ball with practiced ease.

You didn’t understand it then, but something inside you shifted. You found yourself watching him more closely, noticing the way his expression softened when he talked about soccer, the way he always let you have the last piece of candy, even though he’d complain about it afterward.

You liked him.

The realization was terrifying, but you pushed it down. Sae was your best friend, and you didn’t want to ruin that.

When Sae told you he’d been scouted to train in Spain, you didn’t know how to react.

You were happy for him—of course you were. Soccer was his dream, and this was everything he had ever wanted. But as you stood in the airport, watching him get ready to board his flight, all you could think about was how much you were going to miss him.

"Don’t cry," he said, his voice steady. He stood in front of you, his suitcase at his side, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked so calm, so sure of himself, that it almost made you angry.

"I’m not crying," you lied, blinking furiously.

Sae’s gaze softened, just for a moment. "You’ll be fine without me," he said. "You always are."

But you weren’t.

High school was different without Sae.

The loud, hyper child you used to be was gone, replaced by someone quieter, someone who didn’t raise their hand as much in class or run around during lunch breaks. The hole Sae left behind was too big to fill, and you didn’t know how to be yourself without him by your side.

But at night, when your phone buzzed with his Facetime calls, everything felt okay again.

When you were fifteen, one of those calls changed everything.

You were sitting on your bed, rambling about your day, filling the silence with every little detail you could think of. Sae’s face on the screen was calm, as always, but there was something different about his expression.

"I love you," he said suddenly, cutting you off mid-sentence.

Your heart stopped.

"What?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"I love you," he repeated, his tone steady, like he had been waiting to say it for a long time. "I’ve loved you for a while."

Tears welled up in your eyes. "I love you too," you said, your voice trembling.

From that moment on, you were his. The long-distance relationship wasn’t easy, but it didn’t matter. You had Sae, and that was enough.

When you were seventeen, everything started to fall apart.

Sae’s texts became shorter, his calls less frequent. You told yourself it was because he was busy—Spain was demanding, and soccer always came first for him. But the doubt lingered, gnawing at the edges of your mind.

One night, he called you.

You were so excited to hear from him that you didn’t notice the tension in his voice. You launched into your day, telling him about school, your friends, everything he had missed. He stayed silent until you finally asked, "Sae? Are you still there?"

"I’m here," he said. His tone was cold, unfamiliar. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

Your stomach twisted. "What is it?"

"You’re a bother," he said, his voice flat. "We should break up."

The words didn’t register at first.

"What?" you whispered, your voice shaking. "Sae, what are you talking about?"

"You’re holding me back," he said, his tone as sharp as a blade. "I don’t have time for this anymore."

And just like that, the boy you'd grown to love - your best friend - was gone.

A year later, Sae returned to Japan for the U-20 vs. Blue Lock match.

You hadn’t heard from him since the breakup. Not a single text, not a single call. But even after everything, you couldn’t help but hope. He was still your best friend… right?

You looked for him everywhere—in the streets you used to walk together, in the soccer fields where he used to practice. But he was never there.

The night of the game, you sat alone in your room, watching him on the TV.

He was brilliant. Every move, every goal, was flawless. The Sae on the screen was a stranger, a far cry from the boy who used to roll his eyes at your jokes and share his candy with you.

It doesn’t feel right, you thought, not knowing the Sae that’s out there, shining so brightly.

And maybe, you realized, you never would.

no one said all of these had to be happy. childhood best friends to lovers to strangers anyone ?

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Can you please do young hayden coming home to you after meeting some "fans" but lots of them just gave him hate (Since he got hate when he was acting in SW) and he just cries in your arms needing to be comforted and assured.

HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN stepped into the apartment quietly, clearly not wanting you to notice him. His steps were slow, feet barely lifting from the floor, just gliding against the wooden panels. Yet, what he didn't know was that you were curled on the couch, already glancing up at him from your book. Your eyes noticed the slouched set of his shoulders and the way his hands fidgeted at his sides, as if not knowing what to do to them filly.

He looked like a kicked puppy.

"Hayden?" you called gently, setting your book aside.

He didn't answer right away, and you already wanted to stand up from the soft cushion, but he was faster, getting on the couch you were on, using your chest as his personal space to lay down. His cheek squished against your chest, one hand wrapping around your waist and the other falling by his side

"Hey," you mumbled softly, hands coming up to his tousled curls "What happened?"

His lip trembled, and he tried to shake his head, but the moment your hand touched his hair, he broke. A sharp, shuddering breath escaped him as he pulled you into a desperate hug, burying his face in your cleavage.

"I--" His voice cracked. "Just a bad day."

You wrapped your arms tightly around him, one hand gently stroking the back of his head, twirling the curl around your finger. "What was bad, baby? Tell me."

He stayed quiet for a moment, breathing shaky. "The event," he mumbled "Some of them... they just wouldn't stop. Kept saying shit about me, about my acting, about the movies, straight to my fucking face. It was... loud. And mean. Really mean."

Your heart squeezed painfully. "Oh, Hayden."

"I tried to ignore it," he went on, voice muffled against your skin. "But it was just... I don't know. It felt like they weren't there to meet me. They were there to tear me apart. It was so fucking exhausting."

You pulled back just enough to look at him, cupping his face in your hands. You squished his cheeks in your palms, his eyes glassy and too full of doubt. "You listen to me now," you said firmly, brushing your thumbs over his cheekbones. "None of that shit matters. Not a word of it. They don't know you, Hay. They don't know how hard you work, how much you care, how... amazing you are."

His brows pulled together, and he let out a shaky laugh. "You have to say that. You're biased."

"I'm not biased," tone serious. "I'm honest. You're talented as hell, and anyone who says otherwise is just... I don't know, bitter or jealous or a miserable asshole. Take your pick."

A weak smile tugged at his lips. "You think I'm talented, huh?"

"I know you're talented," you corrected, leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead. "And I know you're also way too good to let a bunch of jerks get to you. They don't deserve you."

He exhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he leaned into your touch. "Why does it feel so heavy, though? Like... like they're right, and I'm just..." He trailed off, swallowing hard.

"Hey," you said softly, fingers sliding back into his hair. "They're not right. Not even close. You're incredible, Hayden. And if you ever doubt that, I'll remind you. Every damn day if I have to."

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca

[sweetflanfiction]

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 16

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N: I've made some cute headers for the thing!!! What do you guys think??

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12 • Part 13 • Part 14 • Part 15

• ··········· • ············ •

“Are you coming in or not?” He didn’t move as he spoke, and with a deep breath, you walked into the elevator.

You didn’t care for Rictus, not that he ever did you much harm personally, but you had heard the stories. Caitlyn would tell about how he ‘interrogated’ Zaunites, and you'd begged her to say something. Stop him, stop Ambessa. At one point you'd ask her if releasing the gray wasn't enough, and that got you the silent treatment for a while. He was loyal to the general and her ways, and unless the universe had given him the ‘broom-closet’ treatment, he was probably the same asshole.

The doors closed with a cheerful ping, and you stared straight ahead at your blurred reflection in the golden metal. You started to pray to whoever was listening for this to be a quiet and quick ride, but when you saw his reflection move, turning slightly towards you, you knew the elevator was the gods’ blind spot.

“What was the color?” He asked, his tone smug about something you weren’t yet privy to. “Excuse me?” You didn’t fully look at him, just tilted your head slightly towards him. “The rune…what was the color?" You could feel his grin as the words came out.

Son of a bitch.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You turned back to stare in front of you with a deep sigh of annoyance coming out of you. “I know those distant looks into the void.” He straightened up too, grasping his hands in front of him. He wasn't trying to be menacing, but his weight alone was enough for him to be threatening no matter what he was doing. “In the beginning, it’s all very telling. The long stares into nothingness, the twitches when something gasps behind you. It’s all the same…”

There was no joking tone or sympathy in his voice, just knowledge. You supported the most blank expression you could muster as there was no sympathy in your eyes when you looked at his profile.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You punctuated every word, and he chuckled, his metal armor moving to the mocking sound.

“Was it Green? Golden? Blue? Purple?” He looked back at you, and the shattering sound started to reappear.

Apparently whatever micro-expression you gave him was enough for him to figure out as a grin spread across his face.

“Purple? Chaos then? Interesting…”

You looked at his expression with a scowl. It was more than obvious whatever you'd tell him was going to go straight out of your mouth into Ambessa’s ear. And yet he seemed to be the most knowledgeable person about actual magic. So the scowl was mixed with an eye roll of annoyance.

“What about it?” You looked back to your reflection. 

“Those don’t show up often.” You kept your mouth shut, waiting for him to continue. "The Arcane doesn't trust us with those runes." "Us?" "Imperfect beings." His tone showing a displeasure at that description. "We cannot be trusted with chaos, because we like to jump into the dark waters without thinking of the consequences."

A moment of silence passed between you two. Somewhere in the back of your mind, another voice talked to you about imperfections and how it should be a priority of all beings to become their most perfect self. Now that you thought about it, the whole spiel made sense. He was a version of the Arcane.

“What would happen if I were to use it?” You side-eyed him; he tilted his head towards you much like you did before. "I suggest using it on someone you don't like." He looked at you smugly.

You looked at him straight in the eye, face blank, eyes on fire, a predatory grin unconsciously showing on your face. You saw the wall behind him start to shatter just like a window in the lab.

The arrogance on his features quickly disappeared. His shoulders tensed and his fists clenched. He wasn’t the only one who could read body signals. He was readying himself for something. The door pinged, and he took a step forward.

“You’d be dead before you finished speaking the rune.” he said as he passed by you.

That was enough for you to know the purple chaos rune was something even Rictus didn’t want to deal with.

• ············ •

After four or five weeks of popping into this dimension, the mystery was over: you finally found out what your mother’s commission to the lab was. It was a small machine that would be able to read out loud any document it scanned.

You brought a new couch to the lab at the beginning of the week. It was made from the same material as the armchairs on the penthouse's veranda. The shine in Viktor’s eyes could have lit up a dark room, as Jayce groaned.

“Thank you…now he’s never going home.” He had said. “He is. Mom is sending another one to his apartment.” You’d retorted.

After that, Viktor promised to make 'The Reader' his priority.

And that brought you to the lab, waiting for Viktor to finish something on the invention as you sat on the upholstery.

You understood at the moment the appeal of that cushioning, melting into it as Viktor turned his stool to you, placing the goggles on his forehead, his disheveled hair making him look like a mad scientist.

“I think we can try to make it work…Hopefully it will work,” he said, tilting his head to the side, looking at it with doubt, his hand going to the hairs on the back of his head.

“Explain to me again what it does.” You pointed your eyes gazing at the weird contraption.

You’d seen some beautiful things come from this lab in your timeline. This, though? ...was not it. Even though both men kept promising to make it look nice, the skeleton of the machine was nightmarish. 

It had four long legs that came out of a funnel-like tube. The end of the tube had a glass lens with four little prongs to secure the hex gem on it, and two small speaker cones finished up the structure. It looked like a spider playing two tiny trumpets.

“Well…” he cleared his throat and pointed to the metal structure. “We call it 'The Reader' because, well, that is what it does." "Did you name it?" You joked, and he looked at you, rolling his eyes pointedly. "Maybe..." He gave you a grin and went back to the explanation. "You put a paper with something written on this side.”

He grabbed a small piece of paper, wrote something on it, and placed it on the lower part of the thing.

“And then you turn the switch.” He flipped a little metallic switch, and the hex gem shined, a ring of arcane symbols floating around it. 

A blue cone of light came from the lens and reflected on the page; a small, brighter rune shined, and a line of brighter light from the cone traced the letters. After a few seconds, a noise that sounded like a record scratch started to come out of the speakers.

“Hello, I am Viktor.” The machine whirred, and a very mechanical Viktor voice came out of the machine.

It was far more similar to the Herald’s voice than you’d expect, and for a moment you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You blinked slowly, trying to stop the spiral about to start.

“I can change the voice…” Viktor interrupted your silence. You looked up at his cringing expression. “I don’t think my accent helps with the clarity of the reading.”

“It’s a perfectly good accent if you ask me.” You blurted out, your mind still a little light. "And if you're going to try and somehow use it in the Undercity, perhaps a familiar accent would help."

"Has your mother told you the purpose of the machine?" He asked, turning to you in his stool, knees bumping into yours.

"It's my mother's project. A project that you are overseeing. The target audience is very easy to guess." You shrugged and leaned back into the couch.

“I don't know if I like being that obvious with my intentions.” Viktor's had a joking tone, and you snorted. 

Without another word, he turned the page over on the small table under the lens and flipped the switch again. The cone of blue light came over the text, and the small bright line started to trace the letters again.

A very stoic and misplaced Viktor voice came from the invention, this time sounding more comical than threatening since it was clear that the hex gem was trying to add sounds together unnaturally.

“This is the letter A.” It said, and you started to have difficulty controlling the laughter, the chuckles and snorts becoming hard to swallow. “It can be read as apple or nation. It can—

The runes started to move faster around the hex gem, and the sound coming from the speakers became distorted, much like a record player replaying a damaged part of a vinyl record.

“It can—hello—Letter A—read as I’m—Apple—Viktor—Nation.” It repeated a string of nonsensical words as it started to die down. You both looked at each other. Viktor with a concerned look, you with a humorous one. “I’m Vikt-or nation…Hello, Viktor, or nation”

The sound warbled out into silence. You sucked your lips, trying to stop the fit of laughter, but it was inevitable. You saw Viktor's chest shake, and a small string of laughter came out.

“It may need a few adjustments!” Viktor scratched the back of his neck. “Just a few?” “Yes. Well, last time I worked on it, no sound would come out. This is progress. Sort of…” He touched the machine with a screwdriver, and the thing went back to its incoherent speech, grabbing words from the paper and jumbling them together in an incoherent form.

You got back to laughing until Viktor detached the hex gem from its place, the machine dying without another sound.

“I don’t think you’re getting there with a few adjustments.” You looked at both the invention and the inventor with your head.

Viktor gave you an annoyed look, grabbed the metal spider machine, placed it carefully on his workstation, and started to tinker with the machine once again.

• ··········· • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr @kapitankarate @mynicknameisgasoline @octo-octopie @birbwithhat @kneelarmhstrung @dedicated2viktor @elvishstudies

[duhshereadz]

Ekko teaches Jinx how to ride a hoverboard:

The air in the Firelight base hummed with life—metal groans of scaffolding shifting, the faint whir of machinery, and laughter from the kids darting around. But in a quiet corner, Ekko stood with his arms crossed, leaning against a crate, smirking as he glanced at Jinx.

She perched on another crate nearby, her long, thin braids draping to the floor in a tangled cascade. Her pink eyes glimmered with their usual mischief as she fidgeted with a small trinket in her hands, spinning it between her fingers. “So,” she started, her grin widening as she tilted her head, “you gonna let me ride this thing, or are we just here for your amusement?”

Ekko raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. “Oh, it’s definitely for my amusement,” he teased, nodding toward the hoverboard standing beside him. “But if you’re real nice, I might teach you how not to break your neck on it.”

“Pfft,” Jinx scoffed, tossing the trinket over her shoulder like it didn’t matter. “You’re just scared I’ll be better than you. Admit it.” She stood up, practically bouncing on her toes as she closed the gap between them.

“You? Better than me?” Ekko said, pretending to look deeply skeptical. “I mean, you are good at blowing stuff up, but this takes actual skill.”

Her pink eyes narrowed playfully, and she jabbed a finger at his chest. “I’ll have you know I’m great at everything—except rules. Suck at those. But balance? Speed? Danger? That’s my thing, Zippy.”

Ekko groaned, running a hand down his face. “If you keep calling me that, I might change my mind.”

She grinned, stepping onto the board with zero hesitation. “Too late!”

The board wobbled violently under her weight, and for a moment, Jinx’s grin faltered as her arms flailed for balance. She grabbed Ekko’s arm with a sharp yelp. “This thing’s trying to kill me!”

Ekko laughed, his voice light and warm. “No, you’re trying to kill yourself. You can’t just jump on like that—you gotta ease into it.” He placed a steadying hand on her waist, guiding her back to center.

Her cheeks flushed, but she tilted her head, smirking up at him. “You just like touching me, don’t you?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said dryly, stepping back before she could make it more awkward. “It’s not because you almost faceplanted or anything.”

She stuck her tongue out at him, still wobbling slightly but managing to stay upright. “Alright, Mr. Know-It-All. What’s the secret, huh?”

He moved behind her, hands gently resting on her shoulders to keep her steady. “The board reacts to how you shift your weight, so stop moving around like a lunatic. Stand still, keep your feet flat, and let it level out.”

Jinx inhaled dramatically, stiffening like a statue. “Standing still. Got it. Like a rock. A super cool, badass rock.”

Ekko chuckled. “Yeah, sure. A badass rock.”

After a few moments, the board stopped shaking, hovering smoothly beneath her. Ekko grinned. “There you go. Now lean forward—slowly. Not all at once, or you’re gonna go flying.”

She leaned forward, her movements careful for once. The board responded, gliding forward a few inches. Jinx’s eyes lit up, her grin returning full force. “Holy crap, it’s working! I’m doing it!”

“Of course, it’s working,” Ekko said, walking beside her. “You’re not completely hopeless.”

“Wow, such high praise,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. But her joy was palpable as she started experimenting, leaning a little more and picking up speed.

Ekko smirked, stepping onto his own board. With a single smooth motion, he zipped past her. “Alright, let’s see if you can keep up, Jinx.”

“Oh, you’re on, Ekko!” she shouted, leaning forward and speeding after him.

The base turned into their playground. They wove between crates and beams, their laughter echoing in the vast space. Jinx was wild, taking every turn too sharply and almost crashing more than once, but her joy was infectious.

Ekko slowed as they neared the tree at the heart of the base. The glow of its arcane roots bathed them in soft light, and he hopped off his board, leaning casually against it. Jinx skidded to a stop beside him, panting slightly but grinning like she’d just conquered the world.

“Not bad,” he admitted, his brown eyes glinting with approval.

“Not bad?” she repeated, feigning outrage. “I was amazing! I was like—like a star falling through the sky or something!”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, a star that almost slammed into a wall three times.”

She elbowed him lightly, her grin softening as her gaze drifted upward. The stars glittered above them, their light almost shy compared to the arcane glow. “Kinda nice out here, huh?”

Ekko’s smile faded into something gentler as he watched her. “Yeah. It is.”

She turned to him, her pink eyes unusually calm. “Thanks, y’know. For teaching me. For putting up with my crap.”

He hesitated, his chest tightening at her rare moment of vulnerability. Slowly, he leaned closer, his voice quiet. “Always.”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away as he closed the gap, brushing his lips against hers. The kiss was soft, unhurried, filled with a care neither of them quite knew how to put into words.

When they pulled back, Jinx blinked, her grin creeping back as she tried to hide how flustered she was. “Okay, maybe you’re not completely terrible at this.”

Ekko chuckled, stepping onto his board and motioning for her to follow. “Come on, Jinx. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

They took off into the night, their boards weaving in tandem under the stars. For once, the chaos of the world felt far away, leaving only the sound of their laughter and the hum of the boards as they soared together.

[daryltwdixon]

Summary: Years pass in a steady rhythm of the usual tasks—repairing fences, tending the garden, and surviving in solitude. Life is quiet and predictable, yet heavy with the absence of the people who once made the town feel alive.

present tense, since we are now in present day

The sun beats down, relentless and heavy, as you crouch by the south fence. Sweat drips down your temple, pooling at the collar of your shirt before soaking into the fabric. The fence is a mess again, a sagging stretch of wire that looks like it’s been held together by sheer stubbornness alone.

You mutter under your breath, wedging the pliers into the rusted wire and pulling hard. The metal groans in protest, the tension vibrating through your arms as you strain to pull it taut.

“Come on,” you growl, planting your boot against the post for leverage. With one last yank, the wire snaps into place, and you sag back onto your heels, panting.

The southern fence is always trouble, a constant thorn in your side no matter how many times you reinforce it. You’ve fixed it so many times, you could probably do it blindfolded by now. But it’s necessary. It’s what keeps the town secure, what keeps the infected—and worse—from wandering too close.

You swipe your arm across your brow, leaving a streak of dirt in your wake. The air is thick with the smell of sunbaked earth and rusted metal, the heat rising in shimmering waves off the ground. A faint breeze stirs the grass, offering momentary relief from the oppressive warmth.

Standing, you stretch out your back, wincing as your muscles protest. You survey your work, the repaired section of fence gleaming faintly in the sunlight. It’s not perfect, but it will hold. For now.

The town of Lincoln, though it's been a long time since you've called it that, sprawls out behind you, quiet and still except for the occasional creak of an old shutter in the breeze and the hum of the generators. It’s been years since the place felt alive. Sure, the traps sometimes catch stray infected, but other than that, it’s just you. Alone.

You tell yourself you like it this way. No complications, no surprises. Just tasks to complete and days to get through. Food to grow, fences to fix, supplies to scavenge. It keeps you busy.

The hum of the generators reaches your ears, a low, steady rhythm that underscores your life here. The quiet doesn’t bother you anymore. It’s a different kind of noise—one you can live with.

After hauling the tools back to the shed and washing the dirt from your hands, you find yourself standing by the graves. The two mounds are covered in years of grass, marked with wooden crosses weathered by rain and sun. You carved their names into the wood yourself, the letters rough and uneven. The task had taken you days.

The first few months after they were gone, you came here every day. The visits have started to space out over the years, though you still find yourself here more often than you’d like to admit.

“Fixed the fence today,” you say, breaking the silence as you set down your bow and quiver of arrows. Your voice sounds strange in the stillness, rough from disuse. “South side, of course. Always falling apart. Think I finally got it to hold this time, but who knows.”

You crouch down, brushing away the leaves that have gathered at the base of the markers. The damp earth smells rich and sharp, clinging to your fingertips.

“One of the chickens got out the other day, but I managed to track her down just outside the boutique. Little thing was so proud of herself, I bet.” You chuckle. “Oh, and I got the artichokes to grow. Took forever, though. Greedy little bastards. They take up so much space, but damn, they’re good.”

You let out a faint laugh, though it catches in your throat. “Finally gonna roast some tonight. Thought about trying one of your recipes, but…”

Your words trail off as a lump forms in your throat, heavy and unrelenting. You stare at the cross with Frank’s name etched into it, your hands curling into fists.

“I’ll figure it out,” you mutter after a moment, though the words feel thin.

Your fingers idly pick at the hem of your jacket as you sit back on your heels. “Haven’t heard from Tess or Joel in a while. Radio’s been quiet. Don’t know what that means. Boston’s probably gone by now.”

The weight of that truth settles on your chest. You stare at the graves for a long moment, the silence stretching out around you.

You picture them, Frank’s warm smile as he sits on the grassy earth in front of his cross, asking how you’re doing. Your dad’s scowl might have softened, though he’d be scrutinizing every line in your face when you respond.

“I’m fine,” you say finally, your voice softer. “I’m managing. Keeping things running, keeping busy. Just like you’d want.”

The quiet presses in around you, and for a long moment, you simply sit there, your eyes fixed on the crosses. The ache in your chest is familiar now, an old companion you’ve learned to carry without complaint.

Finally, you push yourself to your feet, brushing the dirt from your hands and glancing back toward the house. The lantern by the kitchen window casts a faint glow, the warmth of it beckoning against the growing chill.

“I’ll stop by tomorrow,” you mutter, turning toward the path.

The house is quiet except for the occasional creak of the floorboards and the low hum of the monitors at the far end of the table. You sit with your plate in front of you, a simple meal of roasted artichokes and rabbit. The artichokes aren’t perfect—slightly bitter despite the care you put into growing them—but you eat them anyway. Waste isn’t an option.

Across from you, the flickering screens display grainy black-and-white footage from the security cameras positioned along the property. The south fence looks clean and steady, a reminder of the hours you spent earlier in the day. The northwest corner is darker, partially obscured by overgrown branches you keep meaning to cut back.

You chew slowly, your fork scraping faintly against the plate. The rabbit is gamey, but it pairs well with the artichokes. You’ll never get it to taste like your dad’s cooking, but you like to think Frank would be proud of how far you’ve come with the garden.

Reaching for the glass at your side, you take a sip of water, your eyes drifting to the monitor showing the front gate. Nothing. Just the same empty road you’ve seen for years. It’s not comforting, exactly, but it’s not unsettling either. Just the way things are.

When your plate is clean, you stand and carry it to the sink, rinsing it under the warm tap. The smell of roasted vegetables still lingers in the air as you wipe down the counter, setting everything back in its proper place.

When you step into your room that night, the warm glow from the hallway spills across the wooden floor, catching on the edge of the envelope sitting on your dresser. The paper is slightly yellowed now, the edges curling from the years it’s spent untouched. Your name is written in bold, messy letters—your dad’s handwriting.

You pause, your hand brushing against the edge of the dresser as your eyes linger on the envelope. It’s been there for so long, a fixture in a room where everything else has been tidied, repaired, or replaced. You’d considered opening it once, in the early days, but the thought of what might be inside had kept your fingers still.

You exhale through your nose and turn away, pulling back the covers on the bed. The mattress gives a soft creak under your weight as you sit down, pulling off your boots and setting them neatly beside the nightstand. The faint hum of the generator carries through the walls, a reminder of the world you’ve kept running.

The envelope stays where it’s always been, untouched on the dresser as you climb under the blankets and reach for the lamp. The bold, uneven letters of your name burn in your retinas as darkness swallows the room.

[vvoidsmm]

Something About you.

Why on earth would I like you? Of all people, why you?

an idiot who's overthinking about feelings

The city’s perpetual gloom filled the night sky in murky shades of gray and blue, as Gabe stood on a rooftop close to the edge, with the cold midnight air biting at his skin. His gaze drifted downward to the city streets below, where he could hear snippets of conversations—laughter, shouts, the distant wailing of sirens. It was a good distraction for him, something to take his mind off of... well, things. Things that's been eating him up inside, and he can't figure out why.

Next to him was the Red Hood, muttering something about plans to take out some criminals, or other stuff— Gabe wasn't listening. Not really. His mind had been occupied since the moment Jason arrived. Anon's usual blabbering, chatty self was nowhere to be seen or heard. Something was different, and Jason was quick to notice.

"Earth to Anon?" Jason calls out, his voice low and gravelly from his helmet. "Are you going to help me out here, or are you just gonna stare off into space?" Right. They were working on something together— nothing too serious, just a need to take down a rookie gang. Minor stuff.

Gabe blinked at hearing Jason's voice. Covering his slip with a lopsided grin, "You've got it handled, Red." Dissatisfied with the answer, Jason huffed from under his helmet. "Handle what? Were you even listening to me?" he scoffed.

"Sorry," Gabe mutters, looking down at his feet. Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating— for Gabe, at least. And he hated it.

"You're not usually this quiet." Jason sighed, crossing his arm over his chest. "You're usually annoying, always talking about whatever..." he looks at Gabe before bringing his attention to Gotham below.

"I'm multifaceted." Gabe quipped, though his voice was much softer than usual.

Jason could only groan from that reply, "Don't give me that crap." If Gabe could see what the man looked like right now, he was sure he was rolling his eyes. "Alright, stop it. What's up? You're clearly distracted and it's annoying me."

"It's nothing."

"Bullshit. What's eating you up?"

Gabe hesitated, the words stuck in his throat. He sighed, more to himself than anyone else. There was something about Jason that made it impossible to ignore him. Maybe it was the way he fought like he had nothing to lose, or the way he smiled as if he didn’t care—though Gabe knew better. Jason tried to hide it, but Gabe could see the weight he carried, the guilt and pain that clung to him like a second skin.

But why was he overthinking this? Jason was just a guy with too much baggage, right? But that was just an excuse, a way to push aside everything Gabe felt. Jason wasn’t just anything. He was fire and fury—something that drew Gabe in, something that made him want to understand him, even when Jason pushed people away.

Gabe didn’t know when it all started. Maybe it was the first time Jason snapped at him, his voice sharp and rough, cutting through the chaos like a jagged knife. Or maybe it was when Gabe saw Jason unmasked, vulnerable in the dim light after one of their shared missions. Either way, it didn’t matter. He hated thinking about it, hated how much space the Red Hood took up in his head.

He tried to bury the feeling deep, convincing himself it was just respect, maybe camaraderie. But the truth wasn’t so kind. Why Jason? Why him? Gabe asked himself again. But deep down, he knew the answer didn’t matter. Despite everything—despite Jason’s rough edges and sharp words—Gabe couldn’t stop himself from wanting to get closer.

His gaze lingered on the man in front of him. Jason had always had a magnetic pull, something that left Gabe feeling unsteady.

But right now, he wasn’t ready to admit everything out loud. Instead, he wore his usual smile. "Maybe I'm just thinking about how good of a friend you are?"

"What..." Jason blinked, caught off guard by the ridiculousness Gabe said. He scoffed a bit, shifting his weight to his right leg while staring at the other in disbelief. "You have terrible taste."

"I know."

"You were distracted because of... what, that?"

Gabe laughed sheepishly. "Yeah."

"That's stupid." Jason groaned and stepped back. Muttering something that Gabe didn't quite catch. Gabe away, back to the city. There was something about Jason Todd—something that made Gabe's heart race and his walls crumble. And maybe that's stupid. And just maybe, that was okay.

whatever this is, just know it was made without me thinking of a draft or anything at all... call it impulse writing HAHAHAHA alexa play "do i wanna know" by hozier bcs i was thinking of that when writing abt them

calling them redmystery bcs... heh... yeah... im so creative(lie)

[arcadiandeath]

it feels like i am reliving it everyday

[furuu]

∘ ◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ It was late, and the house was quiet as you shifted uncomfortably in bed. The cramps had been gnawing at your abdomen all night, making it impossible to fall into a deep sleep. You tried not to move too much, not wanting to disturb Sukuna, who was resting beside you. He rarely seemed vulnerable, but in his sleep, his sharp features softened just enough to remind you that even the King of Curses needed rest.

But no matter how hard you tried to keep still, your body betrayed you. A small, pained groan escaped your lips as another wave of cramps tightened around your stomach, causing you to curl in on yourself. Sukuna’s body twitched beside you, and for a moment, you thought he was still asleep. Until you heard it—a low, rumbling growl from deep in his chest.

You froze. Was he... growling?

It took a few seconds before you realized what was happening. The faint scent of blood must’ve hit his heightened senses, and like a predator picking up on the tiniest shifts in the air, Sukuna was reacting to it. His brow furrowed slightly as he inhaled through his nose, the smell of your period filling his senses. He shifted in his sleep, instinctively moving closer to you, a territorial edge to the way his arm draped over your waist.

You could feel his fingers twitching against your skin as if unconsciously staking his claim. Another small growl escaped him, softer this time but no less possessive.

Suddenly, his eyes fluttered open, and you found yourself face-to-face with a very awake—and very intense—Sukuna. His crimson gaze locked onto yours, still hazy from sleep but filled with an unmistakable sense of protectiveness.

“You’re in pain,” he said gruffly, voice low and rough from sleep. “I can feel it.”

You opened your mouth to protest, your face flushing with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just… cramps. It’s nothing, really—”

His grip on you tightened just slightly, cutting off your sentence as he stared at you, his eyes narrowing in a way that left no room for argument. “Dumb girl,” he warned, as if what he said before was the most obvious thing in the world. His tone was matter-of-fact, yet there was an underlying possessiveness in the way he said it, as if it was something unbreakable. “I will keep you safe, as your king.”

You swallowed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Sukuna, it’s just—”

“I don’t care what it is,” he interrupted, his voice softening just a little, though the stubbornness was still there. “Your body is suffering, and I will ease your pain.”

You opened your mouth to argue again, but the intensity in his gaze left you speechless. He didn’t just want to help—you could tell he needed to, like some primal instinct had taken over. Just like how animals got protective and snuggly around women on their periods, Sukuna’s instincts were flaring up. You could see it in the way his muscles tensed, the way he hovered protectively over you, as if keeping you safe from something unseen.

You sighed, feeling your embarrassment wash away as you realized how serious he was. “It’s just… it’s a little embarrassing,” you admitted softly, looking down. “I don’t want to bother you.”

Sukuna let out a quiet snarl of irritation. “You’re my mate. You’ll never bother me.” He shifted, pulling you closer into his chest as his large hand splayed across your abdomen, the warmth of his palm immediately soothing against your aching muscles. “Let me take care of you.”

Despite the initial embarrassment, the heat of his body and the firm but gentle pressure of his hand on your stomach made you relax. The pain wasn’t as sharp with him so close, and the reassurance in his gravely voice eased some of the discomfort in your chest, too.

You snuggled into him, allowing yourself to rest against his tattooed chest. His growls quieted into a soft rumble, more like a contented purr now, as he nuzzled his face into your hair.

“I’ve got you,” Sukuna murmured, his voice a quiet, possessive promise. “You’re mine. No one gets to hurt you. Not even your own body.”

And even though it was still a little embarrassing, you felt safer than ever wrapped in his arms, knowing that he would always be there to protect you—even from something as simple as cramps.

[lyrefromthesea]

How would the hashira react if we accidentally pushed him off the bed while sleeping?

Male hashira x Reader - It's OUR bed

pairing: Tengen x Reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

Tengen:

• he wakes up before he even hits the ground. did you just push him down? he immediately checked, but realizes you aren't awake.

• with a quiet scoff, which turned into an even more quiet laugh, he stands up and takes his original place in bed again.

• to make sure that you're not pushing him down another time, he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close enough to nearly use him as a bed instead.

Obanai:

• he hits the ground and nearly panics. if you pushed him out of the bed in your sleep, then maybe you subconsciously didn't like having him close.

• he's quick to disregard that thought, because you quietly stirred next to him, as if you couldn't sleep without him.

• when he finally takes his place in bed again, he lets his fingers brush against yours, wanting to have contact with you. he feels his heart swell when you wrap your arms around his and press it against your body.

Rengoku:

• falls out of the bed and stares at the ceiling with his big owl eyes. he sits up straight in a matter of seconds, asking what just happened.

• though he didn't want that to happen, he accidently wakes you up. seeing you yawn and rub your eyes, he stands up to comfort you into slumber again.

• he'll hold you close to his chest, so you can fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

Sanemi:

• he lands on the ground face first, his hand still clinging onto your arm. the reflex that usually was there to protect you, took you down with him this time.

• the air got knocked out of his lungs after you fell on top of him, letting out a quiet groan. the man turned his face to the side, grumbling in his tired voice, while he felt you get up.

• he's too tired to even talk about it, letting himself fall into bed again and pulling you with him. he ends up falling asleep on top of you, your cheek squished against the top of his head.

Giyuu:

• he sleeps on his side, when you accidently pushed him down the bed, it made him fall onto his back pretty hard. it normally wouldn't have bugged him, he was a hashira and knew how to handle pain. unfortunately, his muscles ached after the fall, because he had landed rather unlucky.

• he won't say anything or wake you up, because he doesn't want to disturb your sleep. expect for the quiet grunt leaving him, he makes sure to keep absolute silence and hold you close again.

• when you see him feel unwell the next day and ask what's wrong, he'll explain it to you. "why didn't you say anything, i would've helped immediately!" he fell silent, his cheeks flushing. he had been too shy to ask for your help.

Gyomei:

• he was sleeping on the edge of the bed to begin with. it wasn't your fault when you turned and bumped against him, making the man fall down the bed.

• he opens his eyes slowly, hands feeling the ground under him, eventually brushing against the blanket that was hanging down the bed.

• it didn't hurt and it was clearly an accident, he didn't see any reason to talk about it. instead he stands up again, makes sure that you sleep in a proper position and puts a protective arm around you.

• you may never know what happened, but that didn't disturb him. he loved you after all.

[rafey-baby]

clumsy!reader is still bad at yoga and yoga instructor!rafe wants to keep her all to himself...

18+ mdni!

c/w: rafe being touchy & blatantly flirting w her, him getting jealous, slightly suggestive, reader being oblivious

wc: 1.9k

idk if anyone missed him but he's back & better than ever !! (after a small vacation that ended up being almost 3 months :D)

some parts are more or less inspired by this, this, this & this ask

part 1

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is in the midst of helping someone fix their posture when he hears the gates of heaven opening in the form of a melodious giggle chiming from the back of the room. He lifts his head in order to detect the source of such a vibrant sound; noticing that his favorite client is currently directing her attention towards some guy next to her.  

The joyful expression she’s sporting makes a scowl paint over his features. Why is this random man making her laugh like that?  

“Yeah, you got it. Just keep workin’ on it though,” he quickly dismisses the person he was helping before stomping over to find her practically lying on the floor with the guy’s hands on her calf, along with his mat pulled far too close to hers for Rafe’s liking.   

“I think you should bend it more here, right? I’m honestly not too sure,” the guy chuckles as he tries to figure out what she’s doing wrong.  

“No cause I have no idea how everyone else makes it seem so easy. It’s so hard to get it right, I feel so stupid half the time,” she complains with a huff, not even noticing Rafe looming within earshot.  

“Seriously, I thought this was a beginner’s class but it feels like some of these poses are meant for like literal pros,” he continues with a shake of his head. 

“I know, right?” another peal of laughter bubbles from her throat as she shifts into a seated position, giving up altogether.  

“Everything alright?” Rafe doesn’t mean for his tone to come out so clipped but there’s something in the way the guy’s touching her so freely that makes his hands curl into fists. 

He keeps reminding himself over and over again that this is a client, which means that he can’t just smash his face in— no matter how severely his fingers are itching for it right about now.  

“Oh, I was just trying to help her with this,” the guy explains in tandem with her head turning to look at Rafe. She seems startled.  

“Well, why don’t you focus on your own form for a change? I mean, s’kinda my job to help her, yeah?” he scoffs, making the guy halt his movements in a state of surprise before he's lifting his hands up in apology.  

“Damn, sorry dude,” he mutters out from under his breath while Rafe merely glares at him with the words stay professional bouncing around his skull.  

A tense silence follows, making her grow quiet while she takes slow sips from her water bottle as a distraction; wondering why he seems so bothered to see her talking to someone else.  

However, when he finally turns his attention towards her, she shrugs it off as him merely having a bad day because it seems like the only logical explanation to her. Because at the end of the day, him being jealous makes as much sense to her as her math homework in high school.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is convinced that the universe is purposefully trying to poke and prod at his limits, giving his carefully curated facade opportunities to crack— allowing for the borderline psychotic aspects of his personality to breathe through the crevices. Because only a week later, Rafe sees her entering the gym with another guy she seems to be awfully friendly with. 

“That’s crazy, I don’t even wanna know what Kie said to that,” she rolls her eyes jokingly while he’s showing her something on his phone.  

”Yeeeah, guess you could say she wasn’t the biggest fan,” he laughs in a carefree manner, raking a hand through his disheveled, sand-colored hair.  

“For some reason I’m not surprised,” she mutters out before she notices Rafe standing in the hallway leading to the yoga class. “Oh, gotta go so I’m not late. See you after?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Think Pope said he’s gonna join me for leg day, so we’ll see if I’m still standing when you get back. But you have fun,” he offers her a wave before walking away towards the locker rooms. 

And at last, her warm eyes meet Rafe’s. “Hi,” her voice is soft, nearly shy; a stark contrast to her demeanor only a few seconds ago.  

“Hey,” he greets her in a casual manner, although his mind is somewhere else entirely. “So, that your boyfriend or?” he tries to approach the subject with nonchalance because it’s not necessarily any of his business.  

He’s not even sure why he’s asking— keeps telling himself that he’s just curious and tries to appear friendly by making small talk. After all, some clients have given him feedback on his apparently intimidating aura, claiming they don’t always have the courage to ask for his help because they get anxious he’ll judge them. Therefore, it's something he’s been trying to work on.  

“What? Oh, JJ? No, he’s just a friend. He goes to the gym here, so I usually just tag along with him. Free ride, right?” she answers with a lighthearted tone.  

“Right. Yeah,” he scratches at the back of his neck, contemplating whether or not to ask the next question since he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. However, there’s something deep in his stomach that grumbles at the prospect of her being in a relationship, makes him feel nearly insane and ultimately, makes the decision for him. 

“You, uh, you got one?”  

“What?” she asks, features coated in confusion. 

“A boyfriend, I mean,” his gaze is unwavering, eager.  

“Oh, um— no, I don’t. Why?” her puzzled eyes flit over the lines of his countenance, seemingly trying to grasp onto his motives. 

“Just, uh…wondering. I mean, he’d be kind of a dick if he’s not drivin’ you here himself,” he shrugs, a strange sort of relief making his shoulders feather-light when she lets out an airy giggle in response.  

“Yeah, honestly sometimes wish I had one just so he could drive me around and stuff,” she jokes while they begin to pad over to the class. 

“You don’t have your license yet?” he raises his brows in surprise.  

“No, I do. I just don’t really like driving. I don’t know why but it’s so stressful to me. Usually try to avoid it as much as I can,” she elaborates while gathering her hair away from her face and securing the strands into a ponytail.   

“Oh yeah? Well, if you ever need a ride home just let me know, alright?” he says, fighting the urge to tuck a loose tendril that has managed to escape the restraints of her hair tie back behind her ear.  

“Really? That’s so sweet of you! But, um, wouldn’t wanna be a bother,” the hesitation is present in her voice.  

“Nah, couldn’t bother me if you tried,” he promises, wishing they could talk for longer. However, the ocean of people flooding inside the room behind them cuts their conversation short.  

“You’re just saying that,” she dismisses him with a playful scoff. 

“M’being for real. You’re my favorite face around here. Plus, makes my job more fun when you’re always stumblin' on your feet,” he can’t help his mouth from twisting upwards at the way her eyes round out in response to his words. 

“Shut up. I’m gonna go set down my mat now, before there’s only space right in front of you,” she offers him a giddy smile that makes him grin like an idiot. Then, she’s tiptoeing away from him in order to locate a vacant spot. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe has become awfully familiar with these newfound feelings of fondness for the girl who’s by far the most helpless little bambi he’s ever encountered. He thinks she should honestly pick another hobby at this point, because maybe yoga just isn’t meant for her. However, he’d never say any of that out loud because even the thought of not seeing her getting all flustered while she loses her balance whenever he’s near makes him feel physically unwell.  

He’s not entirely sure whether her apparently oblivious brain simply hasn’t caught onto the fact that he so clearly has a thing for her, or if she’s well aware and merely chooses to be a tease about it. Nonetheless, the moment she walked into the class today, he could feel his workout shorts tightening and all she’d offered him was a simple smile.  

And now she’s right in front of him, all tangled limbs and pretty eyes blinking up at him— practically begging for his guidance and for him to put his hands all over her (something she doesn’t seem to mind all that much).  

“You put this cute little set on just for me, huh?” he rasps out while his thumb smooths over the bubblegum pink fabric; feeling it out as he pinches the stretchy fabric between his fingertips, making her breath get caught in her throat in the process.  

“Oh, um— just wanted to…try out some new stuff I ordered. You think it’s cute?” she stares at him with something bashful glimmering in her eyes. 

“Mhm. Fits you nice,” he mumbles out as his gaze lingers on the way the tight material wraps around her figure, not leaving much to the (his) imagination. He bets it’d be so easy to just rip right through these cute yoga pants and pull her closer with a firm grip on her hips before burying his face between her plush thighs.

“Thanks,” she peeps out, flustered.  

He tries to shake off the improper, filthy thoughts with a clear of his throat when he gets caught staring at her for a little too long.  

“So, you actually wanna bend your leg on the other side of your body on the mat and support your foot with your left arm not the right one. Easy to get them confused,” he chuckles as she shifts her position according to his instructions as best as she can. 

“Like this?” she seeks reassurance with a soft tone.  

“Yeah, just like that, Bambi. Good job,” his mouth quirks up some while her mind begins to cloud over in response to his low cadence. She’s not entirely sure what exactly it is about him that makes her feel so fuzzy on the inside, but she thinks it’s nice, thinks she wants to always have him this close to her— wants him even closer.

She doesn’t remember the last time she’s had such an intense crush on someone— slowly turning into a crazy person by each second of not knowing whether he’s merely flirting with her for his own amusement or because he’s actually into her. However, she thinks she’s embarrassed herself in front of him far too many times for the latter to be true in any reality.  

“Then need you to move your right hand here,” he adjusts her form with a grip on her wrist while he maneuvers her to his liking; tingles erupting all over the skin he skims over with his fingertips.  

Her head is spinning.  

“See? Knew you could do it. Feels nice, hm?” he rumbles out, letting his hands rest on her shoulders for support, despite the position not really requiring it.  

She hums her response because she doesn’t trust for any coherent words to stumble out of her mouth at the moment, all the while Rafe is desperately trying to not pay attention to the nearly painful situation in his pants.

[sttoru]

‘no matter how much time the king of curses spends with you, he doesn’t think he will ever understand you or your affectionate behaviour towards him.’

☀︎｜tags. true form sukuna x female reader. heian era sukuna. fluff. bits of mentions of blood & murder. big size difference. cold-big-monster-having-a-small-soft-spot-for-a-single-human trope. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’. not proof read! let me know if you like my characterisation or not; it’s my first sukuna fic.

a kiss on the cheek is one of the most innocent - yet apparently also the most difficult - things to do. it’s a small form of intimacy; not that hard to do. it’s really as simple as planting your lips on your beloved’s cheek. then all you do is retreat — maybe get a kiss on the cheek back from him. or on the lips.

“get moving. i’m not waiting all day for you.” sukuna grumbles. you had suddenly stopped in your tracks and the king of curses was confused as to what the reason might have been. the two of you had been walking through the courtyard for a few minutes now — well, you basically had to drag him out to take a little stroll together.

and now the same you was quiet. it bothered sukuna; you were always so chatty around him when it was just the two of you. he might have called you an ‘annoying brat’ for it, but he secretly enjoyed your company and voice.

“c-coming.” you reply in a quiet mumble, eyes glancing over at the monstrous frame that stood a few steps away. his dull yet sharp gaze was focused on you — like he was sizing you up. or rather: trying to figure out what’s wrong with the change in behaviour you showed.

sukuna watches you as you hurry over to his side again. he resumes walking, hands folded over each other under the material of his kimono.

though, he couldn’t yet let go of the fact that you were acting different around him. the king of curses’ suspicion only grew once he noticed how your fingers fiddled with your obi. you were anxious about something.

sukuna shakes his head slightly. some humans sure are difficult to understand, he thinks to himself. your happy yet reserved personality when you usually interacted with him had disappeared and made place for a nervous wreck. trying to figure out why made sukuna’s head hurt.

were you finally scared of him? like all other humans and curses were?

he doesn’t know why, but it felt like he would hate for such thing to happen. sukuna usually wouldn’t care if someone resents, fears or somehow even admires him. only you could make him think and care about such difficult and maybe even trivial things.

“uhm,” you break off his train of thoughts and his eyes are instantly on yours again, “may i do something really quickly?”

sukuna’s face doesn’t show any change in expression, but a small nod tells you everything you need to know. you clear your throat, “can you please lower your head towards me?”

lowering his head? oh, you got some guts. if anyone else had said that to him, sukuna would have obliterated them; there wouldn’t have been anything but red bloody dust left of their body.

but then again: it’s you. all exceptions the king of curses makes are for you.

sukuna slightly lowers his head to your level so you could do whatever you needed to. he’d be lying if he said that his curiosity wasn’t piqued. it always was when he was around you.

you gulp. it was time to do what you’ve longed to do ever since the beginning of your stroll: give the ryomen sukuna a kiss on the cheek. you don’t think he’d be mad—at least he never seriously gets mad at you. only to get a reaction out of you since your responses are always ‘intensely amusing’—as he says.

“go on.” sukuna’s breath hits your cheeks. he was so close—too close that it made you even more nervous in a way. as if you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.

you swallow your fears and just go for it. your lips attach to his cheek in the fraction of a second—the speed of light—before they leave. it was right under his right set of eyes.

you take a step back and clear your throat. you try to escape the embarrassment of sukuna’s possible reaction by continuing your stroll, though were stopped by a strong hand firmly grabbing your forearm.

“where’d you think you’re going?”

sukuna’s deep voice echoes through your ears. you were surprised to hear the tone of it; almost soft. a tone sukuna uses on rare occasions: in your presence.

you turn your head around and smile sheepishly at the king of curses before you. he doesn’t return the same (not that you expected him to), however he does unexpectedly ruffle your hair for a split second. or at least he attempts to.

his large and warm palm lands on top of your head and he gives it a little and subtle shake. sukuna had seen you do a similar action to someone else before, thus he concluded that he could do it to you. maybe as a form of endearment or. . whatever you used it as.

he did find the way you tried to scurry away after giving him a kiss very adorable. even if he wouldn’t say so out loud.

“now, come along. we don’t have all day.” sukuna nonchalantly mutters after retracting his hand. it left as fast as it came, though you were still stunned at the slight show of affection the king of curses returned.

you instantly catch up to sukuna again—walking next to him as fast as your legs could take you. you were a bit more at ease after you got a positive reaction to your little kiss. it was a pity that he didn’t smirk or laugh at you—maybe mocked you like he usually would. but that head pat made up for it.

even if it did leave your hair a little disheveled.

you couldn’t properly see sukuna’s face, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips was undeniably there. even if it was for just a split second.

“how very interesting.” sukuna mutters under his breath so you wouldn’t catch on. he sighs and shakes his head, unable to keep out that memory of you looking so cute—standing on the tip of your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek with your comically small hand on his jaw line. he doesn’t know why he found that to be so thrilling.

you flutter your eyelashes. you were curious about what he might have commented on, “may i ask what you had just said? i didn’t quite hear it.”

a short second of silence hangs before sukuna tilts his head to the right to look down at you again; his face expressionless, but still having a hint of a grin on his lips.

“i said you better hurry before i gobble you up right this instant.” he replies, (playfully) intimidating you with his sharp red eyes that glinted with a form of danger.

you shiver (though knew the threat was an empty one) and instantly pick up your pace. you even get ahead of him, walking as fast as your legs could. you answer with a curt ‘my apologies’ and walk like you actually have somewhere to be.

sukuna’s grin only grows as he sees you get ahead of him. if you had turned around, maybe you could have caught onto that light flicker of affection in his expression.

“i’m coming for you, little one.” sukuna adds just to ignite some more fear into you and you react as expected, “you’re not escaping me today.”

it was a funny sight; your reactions always make him enjoy his time with you even more than he already (secretly) was.

the way his body reacts in mysterious ways when you’re around, is still very much an unsolved riddle to the king of curses. and the reasons as to why you aren’t scared of him and can easily give him all your ‘love’ are also still yet to be discovered.

until then, sukuna will continue to enjoy teasing you.

[sweetpupii]

I personally think vander got used to having quiet, gentle sex and by that I mean grinding through clothes late at night.

doesn't matter the position, he's gonna rub against you and groan into your neck until he cums fully clothed because he doesn't want to risk waking up the kids.

yeah, his underwear and pants end up a mess and so do yours but he can't help it ! if he were to actually fuck you he knows he's gonna be so loud :< like come on, this man is 200cm tall, he is big everywhere which makes having regular sex in secret a bit ( really ) hard.

he's heavy and his movements—as controlled as they can get—are going to make the bed creak anyways; he has tried most positions to help with that issue. doggy? self explanatory, he goes feral. missionary is nice, he gets a full view of how your pussy stretches out to accommodate the thickness of his cock but that makes him lose his mind. sideways will always make the bed move. riding him has an issue similar to missionary, he gets to see and feel you taking him deeper so he can't help but moan loud. ( he's just a man, okay? )

surprisingly it started in a nonsexual situation.

you sitting on his lap, playing with the hair on the back of his head as he stroked your back, nails mindlessly scratching over the fabric of the shirt. comfortable silence in the bedroom as you two cuddled half asleep. he wasn't turned on to begin with, he really planned on holding you close until his mind decided to shut down, but after weeks of no intimacy—both too fucking tired to do more than kisses in bed—a long day at the bar and the kids already asleep leaving you alone… he couldn't resist.

free hand grabbing the plush of your hip to veeeery slowly move you back and forth against his lap, slow enough that it wouldn't ruin the gentle moment. he was a bit worried you'd get mad or something for thinking with his dick in the middle of lovey-dovey time but that quiet hum on his neck and the feeling of you also moving on your own told him enough.

strong arms wrapping around your waist as soon as you take care of the grinding part, holding tight onto you while lazily pressing kisses on the top of your head and whatever place he can reach. he is so clingy he needs to hold you even while fucking. I mean, he has a pretty girl all to himself being a sweetheart, how could he resist?

sure, he wants to feel you wrapped around him all wet and warm for hours but he's more than satisfied with just this for now. ( even if the cum on his boxers isn't so satisfying and pleasurable the next morning once it's dry… )

doesn't matter if now, years later, the kids moved out and powder spends the nights at her hideout more than her own room meaning you both got the house to yourselves. he still needs a little grinding while cuddling every now and then.

“you don't have to stay quiet,” the breathless giggle you let out going straight to his lower belly as he peppers kisses all over your neck and jaw, his hands running up and down your thighs. his own breath arrhythmic at the feeling of you pressing down and moving against his clothed cock, literally makes him throb. the way your body feels even without being naked is heavenly.

“I know,” he groaned into your skin, palm sliding under your shirt to tug you closer. god, how he loves having the love of his life on his lap anytime he wants to. every night, every morning, every evening with no complains. “just...let me enjoy it some more.”

he must have been a damn saint in his previous life to live such a wonderful one today.

masterlist ♡ taglist

[lovscb97]

— enhypen links [hyung line]

tags: hyung line!enhypen x fem!reader, established relationship, squirting (like . a Lot), daddy kink, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (plz don't), creampie, rough sex, exhibitionism, bondage, edging, overstimulation, punishments, spanking, nicknames (princess, angel, etc), degradation (slut, whore, etc), reader being a brat, slight dacryphilia, etc

wc: 2.35k

add. notes: reposting bcs blr shadowbanned the last post BOOOOO also plz do not interact if u r a minor!!! look away shoo shoo!!! n also do lmk if some of the links r not working for u guys :] Also. sorry one last thing but u can tell how these answers got progressively longer LMFAOOOOO

. . .

⥽ … LEE HEESEUNG: 

link one.

heeseung loves making you squirt, it's a given knowing his ego and how much pride he takes in the fact that he's the only one who can make you feel so good. some days, he'll fuck up into you until you're shaking and squirming on top of him, crying out wanton moans of his name and incoherent pleas begging him to stop, but he doesn't listen of course. his one and only goal when engaging sexually with you is to make you shoot streams of liquid all over his dick and sheets, and he'll stop at nothing to achieve that. i'd even go so far as to say he can be pretty mean, although i wouldn't put him at the top of that list when comparing with the rest.

"seungie, please!" you sob, fresh tears streaming down your face as your boyfriend milks a third orgasm from you. "just one more, angel. you can do it." heeseung grunts, his cock painfully sensitive after having already cum inside you. but, of course, that won't stop him from giving you the fuck of a lifetime. his current goal right now is to make you cream all over his dick, but what he doesn't expect is clear droplets to be released from your pussy as he overstimulates you. your body slumps on top of his, tired and spent, but it's only a matter of seconds until you're being manhandled onto your back. before you can even ask what he's doing, your boyfriend cuts you off. "i need to see you do that again." he grins wickedly, and you sigh. it's going to be a long night today.

link two.

whenever you act out in front of heeseung, like going so far as to tease him in front of his friends by sending promiscuous photos of yourself or running a hand sensually against his clothed bulge, he never hesistates to put you back in your place. sometimes he'll be so pent up after trying to have enjoyed a boys night out only to have cut it short because of your raunchy actions, he won't even make it past the living room, dragging you towards the couch and yanking your panties down before he's sheathing himself inside you. he'll grip a fistful of your hair whilst drilling himself into your cunt, making sure to remind you who's in charge despite the fact that you both know you'll never learn your lesson.

"you wanna act like a slut, i'll fuck you like one." heeseung growls, his thrusts sharp and precise with the way he's delivering them inside you. by now, you've been reduced to a mess of gasps and moans, too fucked out to speak, which only makes your boyfriend chuckle darkly. "what, now you wanna go all quiet on me? what happened to all that attitude, princess?" he mocks, his palm striking a harsh slap on your ass which makes you yelp. "s-sorry, 'm sorry!" you whine, trying to push back on him with a hand, but heeseung only swats it away, tsk-ing at your behavior. "oh, it's too late for sorry, baby." he mumbles, bending down close to whisper in your ear, his words making you shiver. "i'm gonna fuck you until there's nothing left in that stupid, little whore brain of yours. and you're gonna take it. got that?"

⥽ … PARK JONGSEONG: 

link one.

jay loves giving it to you like he'll never be able to fuck you again. his movements are always precise, hitting that spot hidden deep inside of you with each angled thrust. his favourite way to have you is on your back in missionary too, both your legs hanging off the side of his waist as he pounds himself in you, making sure to coax lots of sweet noises from your mouth that he knows only he can make you let out. it's no secret that you love it too, relishing in the way his muscles flex as he thrusts inside your cunt that he's already cum in, his only current goal to make you cum once more before he'll pull out and wipe you down. or, if he's feeling particularly up for it, he'll continue fucking you even after you've both cum for the second time, making sure you're both overstimulated and tired by the end of things.

the only sounds audible by now are the noises of your loud whimpers and skin slapping as jay brutally bullies his cock in and out of you, your hands shooting out to resist his actions despite the fact that he's so much stronger than you. your attempts to resist him are completely futile, and it only makes him laugh sadistically at you struggling to take him. "aww, 's too much for you, honey?" he coos, and you only cry out with a nod, strings of curses leaving your lips at an expertly placed thrust that slams deep inside you. at this point, you're worried he's going to batter your cervix to a pulp, but that thought is long lost when his thumb comes down to swipe at your clit. "don't worry, sweetheart. daddy's gonna make sure he fucks you until you're crying, yeah?"

link two.

every once in a while, namely when you're both too lazy to indulge in it, your boyfriend will forego the dramatics and fuck you with nothing but love in his eyes. he'll kiss you so sweetly, his actions nothing short of gentle yet firm with the way he'll grip your waist and push himself into you bit by bit until you're clenching down on him in utter pleasure. he'll revel in the way your tits bounce in his face, leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth and sucking on it which only makes the coil in your stomach that much closer to snapping. it won't take long until you're both reaching your highs, you creaming around jay's cock and him shooting ropes of white deep inside you to the point you can feel it gushing out from how much there is.

"fuck, princess. don't squeeze me like that, i'll cum." jay groans, confused when you simply shake your head with a moan. "wan' your cum, jjongie, please." you beg, and his heart positively melts because who is he to deny the request of such a beautiful girl, no less his own beautiful girl? it's only when you clench down on him and grab his hand to bring it up to squeeze your chest when he feels the band in his lower half snap, emptying himself inside of you with a long drawn grunt that only pushes you off the edge. there's so much cum that you can feel it seep out of your hole when he goes to pull his softening cock out, watching him eye it in awe. "you're so perfect f'me." jay praises, kissing you gently on the lips as you muster a tired smile back.

⥽ … SIM JAEYUN:

link one.

firm believer of the munch jake agenda just like anyone else because have you seen the man? his oral fixation goes craaaazy, up until the point he constantly needs to have your clit throbbing against his tongue as he drags the wet muscle through your folds. jake will happily spend hours upon no end between your thighs, his face buried into your cunt as he noisily whines into it. everything about it is intoxicating to him; your scent, the way your arousal leaks onto the sheets, how your tight hole clenches in need, all of it. he'd die a fulfilled man if you smoothered him to death in the midst of his endeavours so as long as it's because of your pussy that he's passing away. of course, you think he's a little insane, but you love him regardless.

"mm, jakey.." you whimper, feeling your boyfriend lick into every crevice of your core with meticulous precision, so focused on the task at hand that he doesn't even bother to pull away and only responds with a hum. before you can even get a word out, he's dragging his plump lips up to wrap around your swollen bundle of nerves, not caring how sensitive you may be because to him, this is the sweetest treat of all. "s-shit, 'm gonna cum." you whine, trying to warn him as the band in your stomach grows closer to snapping, but jake doesn't let up. he continues to eat you out even through your orgasm, his chin getting splattered with your juices in the process as he messily slurps everything up. by the time he finally pulls away, you're panting heavily, but your boyfriend is far from done. "again, please." he bats his puppy dog eyes at you, and who are you to deny him?

link two.

jake is also a certified freak. he's into risky situations where anyone could catch him, which makes sense when you consider how your picnic date with him turned into you getting absolutely wrecked by his dick inside your pussy. it started out so innocent, with you in your little sundress, and him in his favourite hoodie, but all of that was soon discarded and you were on your back against the scratchy grass, gushing around your boyfriend's cock as he pummeled into you with a fervor you'd never seen him have before. something about the prospect of fucking in public turned him on so much, and if you were being very honest, it turned you on too.

"ah, jake. we r-really shouldn't." you stutter, feeling your boyfriend's mushroom tip catch against your clit. you shuffle on the uncomfortable bed of grass underneath just as jake hushes you, slowly pushing himself in with one fluid motion that makes the both of you sigh in relief. "sorry, baby. you just looked so good in your pretty little dress, i had to have you." he groans, hiking said dress up your thighs as you whine, kicking your legs up. jake seems to get your cue because before you can continue pleading him to move at last, he's thrusting into you, thick cock plunging deliciously inside. your noises are loud, and there's no way anyone could mistaken what you two are up to if they were to pass by, so you really are glad for the fact that the entire area is deserted, especially considering that once jake's started, he's going to be insatiable, sure to cum inside you at least twice before he even thinks of taking you home to repeat the process all over again.

⥽ … PARK SUNGHOON:  

link one.

sunghoon's a perv, and like any other perv, he has his secret fantasies; your panties. even before he started dating you, he'd dream about fucking you after having tugged your underwear to the side, pushing his cock in your tiny hole while the flimsy article of clothing you've yanked aside becomes wet from your leaking juices, even better if it's after he's cum on them. sometimes, when he wants to punish you, he'll fuck you through your panties, making sure he indulges himself without directly giving you what you want— his seed. he'll even go so far as to edge you, cockhead bumping against your clit through the messy fabric, just enough stimulation to build up your orgasm, but not enough to have you tipping over the edge. how mean, indeed.

"hoonie," you cry, tears welling up in your eyes out of frustration after your fourth ruined orgasm, especially since this is the second time your boyfriend has cum, much less without you. "what is it now, you ungrateful slut?" he spits out, eyebrows furrowed in a glare as he stares you down, making you gulp. sunghoon got mean a lot, and each time he did, it never failed to have you leaking everywhere. "wan' cum. wan' your cum, too. please. 'm sorry. i'll be good, please." you beg shamelessly, and your boyfriend laughs with a sinister air to his voice. "oh yeah? you're sorry?" he bites his lip, admiring the way his cum has stained the pretty pink laces you've worn today. "too fucking bad." he hisses as he slides his red tip against your clothed clit once more, making you whine. "sluts don't get cum. they get punishments. so, be a good bitch and take what i give you."

link two.

tying you up is one of sunghoon's favourite things to do to you in sex. he loves the way you look, all pliant and moulded into the position he desires to have you in, especially with how the silk of the fabric decorates your skin. of course he'll kiss away the bruises you get after you're done, but that'll only be after he's had his way with you. he also gets off on the power trip it gives him. when you're bound by some material to the headboard, it gives him the liberty to do whatever he wants with you. it's like you're giving your body up as bait, except instead of missing out on it as the predator, he's seizing his opportunity to have his way with you, and boy does he enjoy it far too much.

"oh, my pretty angel. you look so beautiful like this, completely spread out and at my mercy." sunghoon purrs, his cold fingers grazing the skin of your back as you shiver. your face is muffled by the pillows he's buried your head against, the position your boyfriend has tied you up in this time leaving no room for speaking when you're ass up in front of him. you'd be a liar if you said you didn't love relinquishing control and satiating his desires like this, plus sunghoon always fucks you so deep whenever he has you bound for him. "now," sunghoon licks his lips, pumping his free cock in one hand as he brings it up to your opening. "i'm gonna fuck you, and if you stay quiet, maybe i'll think about letting you cum." your eyes widen, a quiet moan escaping you when he suddenly enters. it dies down in your throat when you feel a harsh slap land on your inner thigh. "i said be quiet, slut." sunghoon growls, causing you to swallow. oh, you were royally fucked.

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you know as soon as you get out of bed, satoru isn’t going to be far behind you, especially when you’re draped in his shirt.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, insatiable satoru :3, mostly teasing, some morning scenes as he tries to drag you back to bed, you’re in his shirt, he lifts you up at the end. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i am so very obsessed + crazed, i can’t stop <3

it’s still early, barely light outside as you stand in the kitchen of your shared apartment. you’ve left your boyfriend gojo still in bed, you felt a little bad waking him up when he always looked so peaceful, probably tired out after the night he’d given you lastnight— the evidence of his efforts still burning on your skin where he’s left his mark.

but it had still been an effort to peel him off of you no matter how soundly he slept, having to pull yourself away from the warmth of his chest— his arms were like a puzzle with how tightly he wraps them around you, but you thought he’d appreciate waking up to some coffee and breakfast on his day off.

the air in the kitchen is still cold, something you’ve put down to the early morning— the roads outside are still quiet but there’s a slight breeze along your bare thighs when you move. the rest of your body is fine though, draped comfily in one of satoru’s ridiculously huge shirts, the perks of your boyfriend being over 6’3 ofcourse—plus he always payed such expensive amounts for his clothes, it was almost guaranteed they were gonna be comfy.

you giggle as you scoop a ridiculous amount of sugar into your boyfriends coffee cup, the ceramic identical to yours— his idea when he started coming over more often, but you still thought his sweet tooth was adorable.

“oh? good morning to you too, sweet thing.” your train of thought is interrupted by the smooth, still sleepy drawl as you shoot a quick glance over your shoulder to see gojo already approaching you. he couldn’t be apart from you too long afterall— it’s like his soul was tied with yours. he’s still shirtless, his hair is messy from sleep— snowy peaks framing his features while his sweatpants rest dangerously low on his hips.

“you’re awake early.” you sigh out, dreamily as you feel your boyfriends chest press against your back, his long arms circling their way around your waist from behind as he rests his head in the crook of your neck.

“mhm, how my supposed to sleep without you, hah? so cruel.” there’s a slight whine to gojo’s words, you can still hear the sleepiness in his tone but it makes you smile when it’s followed by a smeared kiss along your jawline. you roll your eyes before you lean into him, feeling his fingertips trace along the hem of your shirt, his shirt that’s hanging around your thighs before he speaks again.

“you teasin’ me?” his words are lower this time, a little more than a growl as he plays around with the fabric between his fingers— grumbling before he’s deliberately pressing his hips into you from behind. he’s close and warm, making sure you can feel the problem you left him with this morning when you got out of bed without him— straining against the fabric of his sweats.

“‘toru, it’s 8am. you’re insatiable.” you giggle out, a sweet little sound so early in the morning and it only seems to draw gojo in closer to you— smiling into his next kiss along your throat as he rolls his hips into you.

“oh, but you left me cold and alone, i think you gotta make that up to me, no?” he’s teasing you, trying to lure you back into where he wants you most— not that he wouldn’t have you anywhere, he’s already had his way with you around this whole apartment. but he wants nothing more than you between the sheets right now, wrapped up in him and the plush mattress beneath you both.

“i’m literally making you a coffee. you needed the rest.” you try to argue but you should know that gojo’s never one to back down. you feel his fingers trail slowly underneath the hem of his shirt, before he sighs with the first teasing swipe along the inside of your bare thigh, so dangerously close to your folds that you shudder. no panties either? you really were teasing him.

“hah? but i feel better than ever.” he tries to argue, oh so convincingly before he’s turning you to face him— peppering sweet, ticklish smooches along your features until you’re arms are wrapping around his shoulders and your eyes are finally on him.

“oh, i’m sure~” you grin, his crystalline gaze is sleepy as you brush your fingers through his bed head— scratching at his scalp before he’s sending you a lopsided grin, followed by a quick peck against your lips.

“got no choice. you need a demostration? let’s go, sweet thing. only one way to show you.” is all you hear from gojo before he’s suddenly got you thrown over his shoulder, and you truly forget how strong he really is until he’s handling you with such ease— holding you with one arm like you’re as light as a feather.

“satoru! what about breakfast?” not that you’re putting up much of a fight, you can basically feel the smug look that’s on his face already as he turns to drag you back to bed. you grumble, defeated but it quickly turns to a shriek when you feel your boyfriends free hand come down sharply on your ass as he chuckles.

“hm? don’t mind. i’m hungry f’ somethin’ else right now, baby.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[beloveds-embrace]

duke au angst, but könig isn’t a knight. He’s either not in it and reader just sinks into a pit of depression and withdrawals so much that rumours start speculation around the ton that reader is either dead or murder and it starts to take a toll on john reputation (they start going after why him, simon, johnny and kyle are so close) or a könig is an Austrian duke/way closer to royalty and when he’s over for business with John and/or simon, he and the reader hit it off (much to the boys dismay) and reader plans on leaving without a word, leaving nothing more than a vague letter that details why and a set of divorce papers (helped achieved by könig) and by the time they realise their mistake readers already living the high life in austria

….okay but the first one’s got me downright obsessed, anon 😩 second one too and i feel like i will absolutely end up caving and writing it later but for now, have this!

Angst dukedom post

Non-angst dukedome post(no konig in this one)

No but seriously, there is only so much you can take. Between everyone’s dismissal of you, the lack of any meaningful company, the loneliness- it was only a matter of time before you just… can’t do it anymore.

The change, though it starts slow, is impossible to hide. You stop having dinner with John, finding no solace in the taste of lukewarm, half-heartedly prepared food. You tell yourself it’s not worth it- the stilted conversations, the empty looks, the way his eyes always drift to anything but you. He’s too busy sharing hidden glances with Kyle, exchanging quiet touches with Johnny when he hand delivers the food, speaking to Simon with an intensity that has never been for you.

You stop attending the endless galas and balls you are meant expected to attend as the Duchess. You withdraw from the tea parties, from every suffocating event where you were paraded as nothing more than an ornament on Duke Price’s arm. You withdraw from the public eye itself.

Instead, you drift through the duchy, through the rooms that are suddenly empty when you arrive. You drift to and fro, in a haze of lonelinthat and slow-setting exhaustion.

The maids whispered of you before, but it used to be out of your earshot; now, you can hear them clearly, none of them afraid of being punished when not even your own husband can stand your sight. They mutter about how sickly you look, how your eyes are dull and lifeless.

She’s wasting away.

Maybe it’s for the best.

No one can love someone who fades into the walls.

But of course, the whispers aren’t just within the duchy. Rumors ripple out beyond the duchy’s walls-

The Duchess has gone mad, they say. Locked away by her husband, for her own good.

She ran away in the dead of night, they say. Couldn’t bear her husband’s coldness. Maybe he drove her to it.

He’s always with Duke Riley, isn’t he? Or the butler. Or the chef.

Poor thing. No wonder she vanished.

All of it gnaws and bites at John’s reputation, at yours, but he never comes to you and it doesn’t surprise you at all. He would rather find a way to bury it all then simply check on you. The facade has always been more important, and he keeps it with half-hearted excuses half-believed by some and dismissed by others.

But they are relentless, and soon they taint every interaction he has. No one meets him without a hint of suspicion in their eyes. How much of it is true, they seem to ask. What did you do to her? Is she really gone? She was a good woman, how could you do that to her? There is more scrutiny now on the time he spends with Simon, with Kyle, with Johnny. He starts to avoid public events himself, unwilling to face the relentless gossip that hangs over him now like a dark cloud.

Eventually, you stop dressing for the day, leaving your hair unkempt, your gowns crumpled and out of style. No one comes to check on you, the maids happy at having less work, and you tell yourself that you prefer it that way. No eyes to judge. No lips to lie. The solitude is nothing new, even if it’s never been this severe before.

Time blurs, too. You stop looking at the newspapers when they stop being delivered. The days mean nothing when every morning brings only a new kind of numbness, and some days you spend entirely in bed, too tired to even think about taking a step outside.

Yet, even with your noticeable absence, nothing changes. No one knocks on your door, not even once. No one checks to see if you’re eating, breathing, surviving. You feel so achingly lonely.

John doesn’t approach you once. You have become a specter, more distant than ever. And though he and the others feel a creeping sense of guilt- Kyle finds himself lingering outside your door, only to turn away with clenched fists; Johnny’s jokes die in his throat when he hears your name; Simon stares at the spot you used to take during the dinners and lunches he’d join; John stares at the very few portraits of you that line the walls and wonders how he’d even go about approaching you- none of them move to truly mend the gaping distance between you. They regret their neglect, but they do not know how to fix it. Or maybe they are simply too late.

dukedom au masterlist Part Two: Fix-it