#nooo don't shoot him :(

[forsoobado137]

(it's me again because I got so many weird questions because I love Hetalia revealed nation AUs) Do you think there would be an anti-nation movement?Like not talking about a silly willy movement but like a violent one that made people die because someone didn't like the existence of nations?And this movement is so violent that the government tries to hide it?Like something "Kill all nations, they're not humans" or some crap like that?

I definitely think there are certain fringe groups that despise nations for different reasons. Some hate them because they hate the countries they represent. Some believe in conspiracies that they secretly control the world. Some simply see them as inhuman because of their immortality and supernatural abilities.

I think these types of groups are widely known around the world, and some are designated as hate/terrorist groups. But most people just see them as crazy conspiracy theorists, though there are some that get sucked down that pipeline.

I don't think they're these big riots with hundreds of people marching down the street saying "death to nations!" They mostly just stick to spreading hate/misinformation online, though there are some who harrass nations in public and a few have even attempted to harm them.

The government has definitely cracked down on these anti-nation groups, especially the more terroristic ones. Online, it's definitely harder to suppress in countries where the government doesn't control the internet. I do think that if people tweet something threatening like "I'm going to shoot Alfred F. Jones today" the feds will show up (Alfred would literally catch the bullet and laugh obnoxiously).

[thinkinonsense]

TALK, TALK₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

logan howlett x mutant!reader

cw: fluff, sweet logan

a/n: inspired by the charli xcx song<3 everything in spanish and french is from google translate so if it's incorrect, that why.

you were no stranger to crushes. they always showed up out of the blue; you couldn't help it. all it took was one glance, a smile, a bit of small talk, anything really. none of this changed when he entered your life.

maybe cupid had struck you in the ass at some point.

for weeks, everyone in the mansion knew where your feelings had floated. normally, you try not to develop any crushes on the people you see daily but this guy was different. even sort of dangerous; the thrill excited you.

"you don't understand, storm." you groan, helping her train downstairs. "there's just something about him. i can't explain it."

your dear friend laughs, swinging at the boxing bag again. "i'm not saying not to go after him... just be careful is all."

"well, there's nothing to worry about because he hasn't even talked to me." a small sigh escapes you.

"he hasn't talked to you?" she questions. you shake your head. "that's odd. i wonder why not?"

"well, he keeps to himself." you shrug, thinking of excuses besides the fact that he likely doesn't share the same feelings you do.

"hm... have you tried talking to him?"

"nooo." you giggle nervously. "absolutely not! you know how i get when i actually have to talk to people i have crushes on."

"i know." storm joins in on your laughter. "it's like someone set you on top of a stove; you just start melting."

"it all comes out like, 'blah, blah, blah'."

"you never know, maybe he speaks 'blah, blah, blah' too."

little did storm know that her words would linger around in your head every time you see him.

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

obliviousness was not a trait logan had. he noticed everything; whether he liked it or not. in this case, he didn't mind noticing everything about you.

it started when he saw a shadow following him to the cafeteria, down the hall, and to the training room. he tried to be polite and ignore it; too afraid to scare you off entirely.

a couple days after your talk with storm, charles sent the older mutants out on a mission. this included storm, scott, logan, and yourself. upon the return, all of the older mutants gathered in the kitchen to unwind. you, storm, and kurt sat together at the table. the two of them bickered back and forth about something silly that happened during the mission.

it wasn't fair how good logan looked during the mission. the tight black spandex did wonders for his form. it felt like some high school crush. butterfly's always in your stomach when he looks at you.

on the other side of the room, logan sat in a wooden chair next to hank, with a cigar dangling from his lips. it must've felt like you were burning holes into the side of his head. even storm had to nudge you to look away from him, telling you to stop giving him 'heart eyes'.

"think someone's got a crush on you, pal." hank teases logan. "heard she's been waiting for you to talk to her."

you looked pretty, sitting at the table with a slight red stain on the inside of your lips, matching the flush of red on your cheeks when you notice him catching you staring. logan couldn't think of anything that compare to the ethereal sight before him.

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

the glass of red wine on your hand was now empty, allowing you to excuse yourself from their conversation for a moment. at the counter, you pour yourself another glass; finishing off the bottle. when you turn to toss the bottle in the trash, you bump into someone.

"s-sorry." you squeal before realizing that it was logan that you bumped into.

"no need to apologize." he assures.

one of logan's big wide palms places itself on your waist, helping keep you upright. all of the wine flooded your mind, unable to form a proper sentence.

"dios mío, eres tan hermoso." you ramble drunkenly shooting stars from your eyes.

*oh my god, you're so gorgeous.

logan couldn't be more confused by your suddenly language switch but he found it awfully amusing. it wasn't a total surprise, he knew you were incredibly intelligent. charles always sang your praises. if you were even a little bit sober right now, you would be mortified.

"whatcha' thinking about, sweetheart?" he smirks, loving how flustered you became.

little did you know, the 200 year old mutant has definitely picked up on some different languages over his lifetime. to logan it didn't even matter whether or not he understood what you meant, he just wanted you to keep talking.

"je veux embrasser ton joli visage." your tongue runs over your bottom lip.

*wanna kiss your pretty face.

"hm... tell me more." logan purrs into your ear. completely forgetting about everyone else in the room.

"he estado enamorado de ti durante meses, ¿sabes?"

*i've had a crush on you for months, you know?

"je pense à toi tous les jours." you step closer, drunk with confidence. "pendant les entraînements, en mission, seule au lit... tout le temps."

*i think about you everyday. during training, on missions, alone in bed... all the time.

"such a smart girl, aren't 'cha, honey?" he groans softly at your words.

it took everything in logan not to kiss you right here, right now. he wanted you to remember the first time he kissed you.

"je veux être ta copine, logan." you whisper in his ear.

*wanna be your girl, logan.

"¿puedes guardar mi secreto?"

*can you keep my secret?

he never wanted you to stop talking; loving every word that falls from your foreign lips.

it wasn't long until storm, pulls you away hoping she caught you before you said anything you would regret. logan didn't mind, too excited to see you in the morning.

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

when you woke up, your head was pounding. nothing worse than a wine hangover. you couldn't remember anything after jean poured you a third glass of wine. you took two aspirins and laid in bed for an extra hour before you finally made it downstairs for breakfast.

logan smelled your lavender scented shampoo the second you stepped out of your room. he had been downstairs waiting for you. everyone had already started their day, off either teaching or training. not him though, he had different plans for his day.

"morning." logan said to you as you walked into the kitchen. your heart fluttered, he could hear it.

"good morning." you reply meekly as you grab a plate and some utensils.

he sips on his plain black coffee while you place two waffles and some fruit onto your plate. theres a small stack of books next to logan on the table but you don't give it a second glance.

"wanna sit?" he asks you.

this was a completely different side of logan compared to the usually grumpy version of him that everyone sees.

"sure."

"did you have fun last night?"

he needed to test the waters on what you remember. by the late arrival to breakfast, logan's guess was not much.

"would you believe me if i said that i can't remember much?" you giggle nervously as you bite into a strawberry. "i was probably being boring in some corner."

you couldn't have been more wrong, logan thinks to himself. the two of you have some small talk for a while, enjoying each others company. this wasn't helping your crush from spreading.

once you cleared your plate and logan finished his coffee, both of you get up to place your dishes into the sink when you noticed the books in logan's hands. one spine read 'beginners guide to french' and the other read 'spanish for dummies'.

in a flash, everything came hurtling back at you full speed. this wasn't yours and logan's first conversation alone together.

"¿Qué pasa cariño?" logan asks, voice filled with desire as he cages you against the sink. his lips ghosted over your own; tempting you beyond your strengths. "je pensais que tu voulais que je te parle ?"

*what's wrong, sweetheart?

*i thought you wanted me to talk to you?

"et merde." you whisper before pulling on the collar of his flannel, smashing his lips into yours.

*fuck it.

the sheer taste of the other drove both of you insane. the mix of logan's coffee and tobacco contrasting with your sweet syrup and fruity taste was intoxicating. you pull back, needing to catch your breath. logan's lips moved south, sucking a dark purple bruise on your pulse point.

"better than i imaged." logan groans, obsessed with your every being.

"imagine si tu m'avais parlé plus tôt ?" you wink down at him.

*imagine if you had talked to me sooner?

logan chuckles, bending to pick you up. "love that mouth of yours, sweetheart. lets see what other languages it speaks."

[endless-ineffabilities]

Chemical Override (bonus chapter 2) - August!

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: this sweet one is set just before they broke it off (or rather, before the reader stomped all over his heart) in part five!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

August! (... slipped away into a moment in time)

It's a fine morning, albeit lazy, you and Ewan having done nothing but lay in bed and talk and cuddle.

Granted, you did a lot more than talk over the course of the night. And this continued in the morning, with Ewan gently coaxing you out of sleep in need.

He's been insatiable, not that you can blame him. You two are finally together, after months of dancing around each other, your friends in eager anticipation to see how the 'will-they, won't they' dynamic will culminate.

They'll be pleased to know that it all led up to the best date you've had so far, followed by a night of bodies burning for the other, marking their territory in the throes of pent-up desire.

Ewan was sure he would remain the gentleman, merely driving you back to your hotel and calling it a night.

But you had invited him upstairs for a nightcap. Maybe some tea, as the Brits do. Needless to say, the tea was quickly forgotten, along with any reservations he might have about simply having you.

The haze of it hasn't subsided. Clad in nothing but undergarments, your limbs are tangled with his under the sheets as you watch the newly released New York foods video he did with Tom a while back.

"Baby?" you say, running your fingers through his hair as he has his head propped on your thighs. The screen plays on, showing the lads thoroughly enjoying some New York City hotdogs.

"Hmm?" he responds, his voice hinting at how soothed he feels from your touch.

"You're such a baby."

"What?" He twists his neck to shoot you a look of betrayal. Adorable.

"I bet those chips weren't even that spicy," you say, rolling your eyes. "I would have devoured those jalapeño chips."

"They were spicy!" He leans against his forearm, which he quickly positioned on your thigh without thinking, causing your muscle to spasm from the sudden weight.

"Ahhh, Ewan!" you wriggle your legs. "Get off, get off..."

"Shit!" He bolts upright, immediately kneading the flesh with his palm. "Sorry, baby. Here, where does it hurt?"

You sigh audibly. "Oh, you." You narrow your eyes at him playfully, trying to look all tough, but apparently he takes it as a cue to press his lips to yours.

It's warm, a bit sloppy, your breaths stale from wine drank over the course of the night. And you don't mind at all.

He croons in your ear, "How do I make it up to you?"

"It's fine, I was only kind of messing - "

"Come now, darling, anything."

He gazes at you, awaiting an answer. In the background, you hear his voice saying, The Fuegos... I didn't like them, as the video comes to a close.

I saw your eyeballs sort of pop out your head a little bit, Tom says in response.

This is going to be fun, you think, smiling evilly to yourself.

Rising to your knees on the bed, you loudly declare, "Today, my love, you will conquer your fears and eat my favourite spicy food."

"Nooo!" He shakes his head right away, already plotting how to get out of this predicament. "Baby, please make me do anything else. I can't handle my spice!"

"My mind is made up."

"What if I do that thing that made you scream last night? When I buried my tongue insi - '

"Ewan!" Your face reddens, but you carry on. His face will soon have the same reaction, but for different, more savoury reasons. "I mean, I would like that but - "

"Alright, let's go baby, spread your knees - " he nods, desperate to placate you and your challenge, but also eager to get down to business.

You shuffle away when he tries to pry your legs open. " - I said I made up my mind! We're eating spicy food. We gotta eat anyway, I'm starving."

He groans, collapsing back on the bed. He runs his hand tiredly over his face, mulling it over. As if he actually has a choice. He wants to do this for you, seeing as how excited you're getting.

"Get up, ol' sport," you crawl on top of him, perching above his stomach. "We're gonna go get the goods."

"Hmm," he sighs contentedly, one look at you more than enough to quell his worries. For now.

"Okay, darling," he relents, then his eyes flash in mischief. "But before we get out of bed... how about I do that thing anyway?"

There is not a single chance in the seven hells that you could ever say no to that.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

An interesting spread is laid out on the round dining table in your hotel suite.

Your stomach growls in anticipation, while Ewan is stiff as a board as he sits beside you.

"I'm hungry, aren't you?" you nudge him, but he only moans, throwing his head back in his chair.

"What if I'd already eaten? I can skip this?" he tries.

"And what the hell did you eat?"

He smirks, and even though his answer won't save him from what follows, it renders him gleeful all the same. "You," is his reply.

That prompts an eye roll, but you shake your head at him fondly. "What should we start with, baby?"

"Water."

"Come on."

"How about the strawberry milk?"

"Okay, then I'll pick." You clasp your hands, surveying the options. "Let's start with something easy." You settle for the bowl of Flamin Hot Cheetos and place it right in front of him.

You help yourself to a few pieces, before noticing that he hasn't moved a muscle, so you take one and bring it to his lips. "Open up, handsome."

"Mmmm," he tilts his head away on instinct, but he gives in after a second. He makes a face as the snack crunches in his mouth. "Not... bad, I suppose.... Urghhh - " he coughs a little, making you snicker at him between bites.

"That's not spicy at all," you say. "At least, it's nothing compared to what we'll have next."

The chicken wings are an unnatural bright red colour, covered in hot sauce and dotted with flecks of chili. You lean down and take a whiff, your nose scrunching as the strong hint of spice hits your senses.

Your placating smile does nothing to ease Ewan, who only looks like he is regretting his life choices on the spot.

"O-kay, dragonblood. Time to breathe fire," you remark in an attempt to inspire some confidence in him. Didn't he take pride in playing a Targaryen dragonrider? Surely some part of him would want to overcome the big, bad opponent that is known in our world as spicy wings.

"Breathe fire?" he exclaims. "That does not make me feel any better!"

"Do it for Vhagar, my love. Do it for Vhagar."

"I'm doing this for you," he corrects, before gingerly taking the smallest bite of a wing. He waits for the impact, confused when nothing unpleasant occurs.

So he bravely takes another, heartier bite.

Big mistake.

His hand gravitates to the glass of water, and he chugs it down like a lifeline. His once pale face becomes the same hue as the fiery culprit.

"Fffuck, ba...by," he hiccups. "I didn't like that at all."

You have a bite, wincing just a little when it hits your throat. It wasn't too bad, so you tell him to calm down.

He complains anyway, "I think I just saw my life flash right before my eyes."

You chortle at that, which unfortunately makes some of the spice travel up your nose. "Oh god!" You instantly take a huge gulp of milk. "Don't make me laugh!" you say, when the heat dies down.

"See?" he cries out in vindication. "Why must we torture ourselves, darling?"

"The food's tasty," you counter.

"Yeah, but is it worth the price?"

You grip his shoulder, dramatically saying, "We have to keep going, soldier."

"No."

"Yes."

"You won't break up with me if I refuse, will you?"

You pause, making it seem like you are seriously deliberating it. "Maybe."

"What?!" His expression takes on a more real sense of alarm.

"I'm kidding," you giggle, nudging his leg with yours. He leans his head against your shoulder, responding with, "You're mean."

"And you're dating me. What does that say about you?"

He lets out a weary laugh, "That I'm just really in love, I guess."

That almost makes you give up on the challenge entirely. You could just let him eat the pepperoni pizza you have saved as the actual meal. But it wouldn't hurt too much to tackle the grand finale. The final boss. Maybe it will even get his taste buds to crack and cross over to the dark side.

"Baby?" Here goes everything.

"Hmm?"

"It's time for the spicy ramen."

He sighs a true sigh of defeat and acceptance. "If I survive this, you have to swear you're never letting me go."

"That's your bargain? Easy, baby."

His blue eyes bore into yours. His cheeks are still red and he's still sniffling from the spice, but his sentiment holds weight. He shrugs, before his arm reaches out for the bowl of ramen, making it known that he has already accepted his fate.

You slide the glass of milk closer to him.

"Try not to get it on your lips as much as possible," you advise him, growing worried as the ramen pack did warn that it was '2x Spicy'.

You cringe inwardly as a forkful of noodles enters his mouth. He drops his arm, chewing slowly, and finally the food gratefully slides down his throat.

"Mmm," he clears his throat, trying his hardest to remain calm. His forced, blank expression is even more alarming than the alternative.

"Ewan?" He turns his head toward you, slowly. And you see the full extent of the damage. His eyes well with tears, and his breathing is shallow from an even more congested nose.

"I'm okay," he wheezes, trying to maintain a show of boldness for your sake. "I can do this."

"You don't look okay." You shake your head at him, as his face takes on an even deeper shade of red.

A pained grunt escapes him. "Maybe a kiss will make it better."

A cursory glace at the ramen sauce staining his lips compels you to protest without a second thought. "How about no? You've got it all over your lips."

"Darling, who cares? You're going to eat them too!" he says, scandalised.

"But I've got a technique. I don't let it touch my lips so it doesn't burn!" You inch away as he leans in.

"So you won't kiss me?" He uses his baby blues against you, eyes bright and shimmering as he pouts in disappointment.

"You don't need a kiss." He tries to grab you, making you stand from your chair to get away. With your palm outstretched, you implore him, "Baby, just drink your milk."

"Then I get a kiss?"

"Fine. Then you get a kiss."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Tom calls you a few days later, his tone animated from the moment you pick up. "Would you look at that! I didn't think I would get a hold of you lovers. Thought you'd be busy doing somethin' else, if y'know what I mean."

"It's noon here, Tom," you reply matter-of-factly, stretching your legs out on the bed.

"So? I reckon Captain Big Balls over there has got it in him."

"Wow," you let out an amused exhale. Tom always did have a way about him, being a Manc and all. "Well, he's in the shower right now if you wanted to speak to him."

"I'm surprised you're not in there with him, love! You guys are all over the news, bloody hell. Even out here, everyone's buzzin' about the hot new couple from House of the Dragon. And no, it's not Matt and Fabien."

You smirk at his last remark, "Are you sure it's not Matt and Fabs?"

"Positive," he says. "But we never know what could happen. Anyway, how in the hell did you convince him?"

You rack your brain for what exactly he could be pertaining to. "Convince him to do what?"

"To create a bloody Instagram profile, that's what!"

Your mouth falls open, and you quickly put him on speaker so you can scroll to the aforementioned app. Sure enough, it doesn't take long for you to sift through your new follower notifications before you find him.

His username is on brand - straightforward and no-frills - just ewanmitchell . Already verified with a hundred thousand followers and counting. In his following list, however, there is only one - your profile.

If the papparazzi pictures and tabloid stories and fan encounters hadn't convinced everyone yet, likely this will.

Ewan, notorious not only for his charisma and pure talent, but also for being steadfast in staying off social media, has sent the entirety of Ewan Nation into a tailspin with his profile.

Icing on the cake - he only follows you.

"You see, this is what convinces the public that you two are not PR," Tom says. "Because Ewan would never, ever get on the socials for just anyone."

"I didn't even know he made this. I haven't been online in quite a bit."

"Been busy, huh?" he asks.

"Yeah."

"Doin' a lot of stuff out there?"

"I guess."

"Like Ewan?"

"Tom, I'm going to lynch you when I see you."

He only laughs, having gotten his desired outcome from prodding at you.

The bathroom door slides open, and Ewan steps out with nothing but a towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist.

"Who's that?" he mouths at you.

"Tom," you answer loudly, prompting Tom to greet Ewan from the speakerphone.

"Aemond the Fierce!" he bellows, the long-distance call doing nothing to stifle his personality. "I always knew you had it in ya. Ever since you laid eyes on her during the table read, I knew it was only a matter of time."

Well, isn't that a revelation. You had thought it was just you harbouring a crush in the beginning. "The table read, really? I just remember being so nervous," you say.

"I thought you were attractive," Ewan admits, scratching the back of his neck. "And you were reading your lines with such passion that I... "

Tom interrupts, "He ran over to me and told me to show him your social media."

"Not just that, I - "

"He wanted to see whether you had any pictures with a boyfriend or something."

"Alright, alright." Ewan snatches the phone from your hand, as if that will keep Tom from exposing him even more. "How are you, mate?"

"I'm good, lad, and yourself?"

Ewan glances at you, seeing that you've gone back to reading a script, your brow furrowed in concentration.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

"I'm great. I'm happy."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

"Over here! Over here!"

"How's your evening going, you guys? How are you enjoying LA?"

The papparazzi needlessly try to make small talk and they flash their cameras in your face. You and Ewan barely have time to grimace at each other once you get inside his car. The restaurant where he took you to dinner hadn't been crawling with paps when you arrived. Someone must have tipped them at some point.

Ewan instinctively reaches for your hand when you've driven some distance away from the restaurant, a breath of relief exiting his lungs.

"That's Hollywood for you, baby," he says amusedly, putting on his best standard American accent.

The car speeds through the streets of LA. Heading to Mount Hollywood, you have the famous Griffith Observatory set as your destination.

You have always wanted to go, and it only took one mention to Ewan before he planned it for your next date.

It doesn't take long before the observatory's iconic structure comes into view. Its white domes seemingly gleam under the night sky, a sentinel watching over the city of Los Angeles.

Stepping out of the car, you take in the scene in awe. The resulting look on your face lets Ewan know he made the right choice in taking you here. He'd take you here everyday if it meant seeing you in a spell of childlike wonder.

The observatory itself is just a bonus.

The outer balcony stretches like a vertice into the vastness of the city, a sea of lights glistening down below. It seemed to sprawl on endlessly, a labyrinth of hopes and pains and dreams.

You stand there, drawn to the view like a moth to a flame. The evening breeze dances through your hair, and your face is aglow from the illuminated city.

Smiling widely, you turn and find Ewan lingering just behind, watching you.

"Come and look at this, my love," you wave him over.

He wants to capture the moment, so he does. He subtly points his camera in your direction. Your profile is partially visible, with your face turned out into the horizon. Your silhouette stands before a mosaic of the shining city.

But it's you that has his attention. You that pulls all of his focus into the frame.

He never thought he would have much use for a public social media profile like the one he created on Instagram, but hours later, as you're sound asleep beside him, he finds purpose for such a thing.

He uploads the first ever photo on his profile - the one he secretly took of you at the observatory.

Too conscious to think of a caption, he doesn't type in any, content to let the photo speak for itself.

Putting his phone away, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and falls into blissful slumber.

Ewan hadn't been aware of the phrase breaking the internet, and he's in for quite the rude awakening.

Even so, he doesn't let it faze him.

You're in shock when you discover the amount of comments under the photo, well past the twelve thousand mark when you wake up. Positive, negative, and everything in between.

Almost unheard of for an Instagram debut.

His reaction?

"At least everyone knows that you're mine now. What's wrong with that?"

You can vote here on the reader's hotd character name!

Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @hotdismylife @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @dracaryxzs @aemondwhoresworld @aisselasstuff @onlyrealjoy (continued in comments)

The sad, angsty bits will be saved for the next proper chapter! What happens to Ewan's Instagram then? What happens to him?? 🥲💔

I was going to include the double date idea, but alas, my ideas ran dry.

I've got nothing but love for all of you that have followed this story to this point! If you've got scene requests, just let me know!

[a-killer-obsession]

The Bet [Kid Pirates x Reader]

🔞 MINORS DNI 🔞

It all started in the most unexpected manner. Kid had never even considered having children, but after it happened he'd found himself thinking more and more about it.

CW:  established relationship, fivesome F/M/M/M/M, breeding, breeding kink, pregnancy, polyamorous relationship, everyone is bi/pan and together, smut, oral, double penetration, blow jobs, deep throating, anal fingering, afab reader

Self indulgent one shot for my birthday

WC: ~3.5k

Masterlist || AO3

It all started in the most unexpected manner. Kid had never even considered having children, but after it happened he'd found himself thinking more and more about it. He couldn't deny that the thought of you swollen with his babe inside you was alluring, it awakened a kink he didn't even realise he had. But it went further than that, he realised, when a small child had run to you and clung to your leg crying, while the crew was docked on some tourist trap island waiting for the log pose to reset. The ease in which you picked up the child and comforted them, before helping them find their mother, awakened something in him. He started dreaming about it, a little redheaded child with all his fire and all your charisma, running around the deck teasing the crew. Making them small toys with his abilities and seeing their eyes light up. Teaching them to shoot a gun, being scolded by you for doing so. He often found himself thinking about it, more than he would like, or ever admit to.

Until it had happened though, he'd had no interest, and did not think you did either. After all, were children not something people in more… traditional relationships wanted? The polyamorous relationship you had with the Kid Pirate commanders was hardly traditional. Not to mention the logistics of having a child on a ship. Was it only him you'd asked for this with, or did you not care who it happened with? Did you even mean it like that, or was it just a lust-fueled passing thought, caught up in the heat of the moment?

He'd already been fucking you ruthlessly for hours when it happened, the two of you coated in sweat and other bodily fluids, your hands threaded in his hair as he slammed you in to the mattress of his giant bed with every deep thrust, your moans bridging on screams. He'd leaned back to admire his work, your pussy already puffy and pink from multiple rounds as he watched his cock bury and unbury itself inside you. With an annoyed groan he began to pull away, but you held him tight with your legs around his waist.

“Babe, the condom broke,” he complained, “let me go, I'll be quick”

“Nooo,” you moaned, rocking your hips towards him as he tried to pull away, “don't go, cum inside me, please”

Kid couldn't believe what he was hearing, almost cumming right there and then. “I'm- babe are you sure?”

“Put your baby in me,” you moaned as you rolled your hips against him, fucking yourself on him while he hesitated, “breed me, please”

His hesitation was immediately lost to his stupid caveman brain and he slammed back into you at a new, desperate pace, eager to fill you with his load. “Yes! Yes!” You cried out between moans, “fill me up, breed me- oh fuck I'm cumming~”

You clamped tight around him and he hit his own peak, your pulsing hole milking him for everything he was worth as he emptied inside you. “Fuck,” he groaned as he came to a rest, his thick cock still sheathed deep inside you.

“Mmm, don't pull out yet,” you mewled, still holding him tight against you, “I don't want any of your cum dripping out of me, don’t wanna waste it”

“Fuck, [y/n],” Kid groaned, planting his head against your shoulder and letting out an almost growl.

“And you didn't think to ask her about it afterwards?” Killer raised an eyebrow at Kid. The four commanders, your lovers, were sitting around the table that sat in the middle of the navigation room. Kid had just finished telling the others about the condom incident, hoping to get their insights on it or see if you'd done the same to them.

“She was so tired, so we just cleaned up and fell asleep,” Kid shrugged.

“Maybe she's on some other birth control?” Wire suggested.

“Nah, she doesn't like the way they make her feel,” Heat explained, “that's why she's always insisted on the rubbers”

“Well, how do you feel about it?” Killer asked, “do you want a kid?”

“I mean, I didn't think I did,” Kid mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, “but… I can't stop thinking about it”

“I mean, y'all know me,” Heat laughed, “I've been waiting to breed her. She'd look so fucking good all swollen with my baby”

“Yeah, we know,” Wire groaned, “you never shut up about it. I can't say I haven't thought about it too though. I mean, she's been with us for years, it was bound to cross our minds at some point. What about you, Kil?”

“I've known for a while I want to be a dad,” he shrugged, “raising Kid was shit, but rewarding as hell. I'd be more prepared this time”

“What are we saying then? That we want to knock her up?” Kid questioned.

“If that's what she wants,” Wire replied.

“Maybe we should ask her,” Heat suggested.

“Okay but what if she agrees? Then what?” Kid asked, “what if she only wants one of our kids? What if the kid is born and has long ass blonde hair, are we still gonna all act like we’re all the dad?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Wire hummed, “I mean, we all love her equally, right? And if we're all putting in the effort to make it, I think its fair we all take equal charge, even if it comes out with flaming red hair”

“Okay, so we're all in agreement then?” Killer asked the group, to which they all nodded and mumbled their agreements.

“There you all are!” You shouted enthusiastically as you skipped into the room, “I thought you guys were having a orgy without me” you pouted.

“Never without you sweetheart,” Wire booped your nose as you slid into his lap.

“What's going on then? You guys talkin’ bout me?” You teased, “only sexy things I hope”

“Actually,” Killer cleared his throat, “we were talking about you”

“Oh?” You tensed a little, stressed that you’d done something wrong.

“Nothing bad, sweetness,” Wire rubbed your leg reassuringly, “we were just discussing something Kid said you mentioned”

“Oh? What did I say?” You looked at Kid with a puzzled expression.

“Well I- we were just wondering whether you uh,” he scratched the back of his neck, “whether you wanted a baby”

“Ooooooh,” you smiled, tapping your lips with your index finger, “I did tell you to breed me, didn't I? I had planned on bringing it up but the condom beat me to the game”

“So you do want a baby?” Killer asked.

“Yeah, I do,” you replied anxiously, “is that… okay? I know it's a complicated situation, with the five of us and being on a ship and all. But every time I see a kid on some island I get this wave of longing, I really think I want one”

“We talked about it and we all agreed that we're okay with that,” Heat replied. You shimmied excitedly on Wire's lap, making him let out a little grunt.

“And you're… all… okay with it?” You asked, scanning the others with your eyes anxiously, “I mean… I'm not asking you all to be a dad if you don't want to, and I can only carry one guy's baby at a time”

“Do you want it to be specifically one person's?” Kid questioned.

“No, I mean, how am I supposed to choose?” you pouted, “I love all of you, I want everyone's baby. I don't think I want four kids though”

“It's okay peanut,” Heat reassured you, “we talked about it and we're all happy to claim the baby even if it's clearly not ours biologically. As long as they're loved, that's all that matters”

“None of us even had one parent around, to have five would be a blessing,” Wire hummed.

“I bet it'll be mine though,” Kid smirked, “none of you have anything on the size of these big breeding balls, these things were made for baby making”

“Kid, that's what all balls are made for, on literally every mammal,” Killer sighed.

“Alright, I'll make you a deal then,” you smiled mischievously, “if the baby comes out with flaming red hair, you can name them. Same goes for any of you. But that's the only special privilege you get”

The men looked between each other, playful grins forming on their faces. They could never turn down a bit of competition.

“Deal,” they all agreed. Wire immediately grabbed you by your hips and bent you over the edge of the table, making you squeak. He wasted no time tearing down your panties and running a long finger through your slit.

“Hey! No fair!” Kid pouted.

“Says who?” Wire tutted. You moaned as he slipped a finger inside you, followed quickly by a second when he discovered how wet you already were, “you already got to breed her once, the rest of us have to get started. God shes fucking soaked from just talking about it, you want it bad huh baby?”

“Yes! Hnnn-” Wire slipped a third finger inside you and pumped you hard while his other hand came underneath you to rub your clit, “I want to be bred so bad~”

“Fuck she clenched when she said that, she wants our cum so bad,” Wire laughed, pulling his fingers out of you unceremoniously, making you whine. Heat was quick to take his hand and lick your slick off his fingers, a hand already down his own pants.

“Let me get a taste of her before we fuck her up,” Heat purred, pushing Wire out of the way unceremoniously as you rolled on to your back and he knelt between your legs, your knees slung over his shoulders. You adored when Heat ate you out, his greedy mouth was always so hot against your needy pussy and he always did it with such fervour. One of your hands found his hair, the other sliding under your shirt to play with your nipples.

“Let me help you with that,” Killer whispered close to your ear, his mask discarded. He pulled your shirt over your head before removing your bra, and dipped his head to suck on one breast, his hands giving attention to the other. Your newly freed hand threaded through his hair as he ran his wet muscle over the pert bud, flicking it with the tip of his tongue and sucking it into his mouth. You turned your head to the side to see Kid and Wire keeping each other entertained, exchanging wet, messy, open mouth kisses while their hands made deft work of each other's pants. You loved watching your boys play with each other, and it made the coil in your stomach wind tight as you watched them. Wire getting on his knees, combined with a particularly deep thrust of Heat's tongue inside you, was enough to put you over the edge. Killer swallowed your moans with a hot kiss as you came on Heat's face, Heat hungrily moaning and lapping up your ambrosia as you shook and tugged on his hair.

Your eyes were shut in bliss as you laid against the table and panted, barely registering the fat tip of Heat's cock as it slid inside you with ease. “Fucccck, I can't wait to fill you up [y/n],” he grunted as he bottomed out, “I've been thinking about breeding you for so fucking long”

Your legs were still over Heat's shoulders, so much higher now that he was standing, his head tilted forward as he watched the spot where his cock disappeared inside your hungry pussy. “Good girl [y/n],” Killer purred beside you, “let Heat breed you like a good little broodmare”

“Oi, you fucking thief,” Wire growled as he realised Heat had stolen his spot to fuck you first. Heat gave him a smug grin, thrusting into you harder to purposely rip moans from you.

“Yeah? She seems to like it just fine,” Heat teased.

“I'll teach you to steal,” Wire warned, sliding up behind Heat and spitting on his hand before slipping a finger in Heat's asshole. His other hand reached around to play with Heat's pierced nipples, the man was always more sensitive because of them and Wire knew it well. You openly laughed between moans at Heat's pained face as he realised he wasn't going to last long with Wire touching him and pumping his asshole with two fingers now. As predicted in only a few more pumps he shuddered and let out a guttural groan, stilling inside you as he filled you with his seed.

“Fuck… you… Wire,” Heat panted.

“Aw Heat baby, you can try again later,” you gave his face a gentle pat, “but Wire, that was rude, you gotta wait now”

“Oh come on!” Wire groaned.

“You heard the lady,” Killer shoved Heat and Wire out of the way as he pulled his thick erection out of his pants. You smiled sweetly at him and spread your legs wide on the table invitingly. He gave an appreciative hum before lining himself up and pushing in with a grunt.

“Can't wait to see our little blonde baby,” he purred in your ear as he started a slow, deep rhythm.

“You gotta knock me up me first,” you cooed back at him, leaning back on your elbows so you had an anchor to roll your hips, forcing him in deeper. He let out a almost whimper at the sudden unexpected force, which spurred him on to fuck you harder, his hands gripping your hips hard. “There you go, hnng, just like that Kil~”

Wet sounds to your right caught your attention, Wire dishing out more revenge on Heat as he face fucked him hard. You could see the bulge Wire's cock was making in Heat's throat. “Hnng, you better not waste that cum Wire,” you tutted.

“Of course not baby,” he gave you a coy smirk, “that's all for you darlin”

Kid crowded over you on the other side of the table, pumping his cock in his hand as it hovered over your face. You eagerly leaned back and opened your mouth for him, and he sprouted his praises as you took him down your throat in a well practised manner.

“Good girl [y/n],” Killer praised, “you always take our cocks so well, made for us, just like you were made to carry our baby”

Your moaning around Kid's cock made him groan, his hands groping your exposed breasts as they bounced with every thrust from Killer, a contrast of temperature between his warm flesh hand and his cool metal one adding to your pleasure. You tapped his thigh twice to indicate you wanted him to pull out as a new lustful thought consumed your needs.

“What's up baby?” He palmed himself as he waited for you to speak.

“Want- both of you-” you moaned, “you and Killer~”

“Hear that Kil? Little mouse thinks she can take us both,” Kid laughed.

“Well who are we to deny her,” Killer smirked as he pulled out. He climbed on the table and laid on his back, and you eagerly rolled on top to straddle him, reaching down between your bodies to position him and sink back down on his cock. Kid came around the table to where Killer had previously stood, climbing on top of the table which creaked under the collective weight of the three of you. You would have worried about it breaking, if this hadn't been the first time this had happened.

You buried your face in Killer's neck as Kid sunk inside you, stretching your pussy to its limit while all three of you groaned in unison. He stayed put for a moment, letting you adjust to the new level of fullness before slowly starting to move. You loved it when the boys took you like this, because as they fucked you they also slid against whoever else was inside you, fucking you both at the same time - it turned you on immensely to think about their cocks rubbing together inside of you. Killer's eyes were glazed over with bliss as Kid set a harsh rhythm, as he always did, and you took the opportunity to nip and suck at Killer's neck, making him whine. The room was filled with lewd squelching sounds and moans as the five of you were consumed by your collective pleasure.

The men inside you felt your pussy squeeze around them as you got dangerously close, your moans turning to pathetic sounding whimpers as you felt the coil tighten. Killer pulled you down to suck on your neck, and the coil snapped. Your pussy clenched hard around the men, your hole already tight to begin with, and they both hit their limit at the added pressure. Killer made a quiet grunt as he came, he was never very audible, while Kid roared like a caged tiger as he unloaded inside you.

“Fuck, fuck,” Wire growled, pulling Heat's mouth off him and rushing to your side. Kid pulled out, Killer's dick coming with it, and they were quickly replaced by Wire. He barely made it two pumps before spilling inside you, your face buried in the crook of Killer's neck as you panted.

Wire stayed inside you for a moment before slowly pulling out. The collective cum of your four lovers started to spill out, and Kid scooped it with his fingers and pushed it back inside you. “Don't waste it,” he tutted.

“You need anything from us?” Killer stroked your hair soothingly as you continued to rest against him.

“I think she's supposed to lay on her back with her ass raised for a bit,” Heat said, wiping the spit from the messy blow job he'd been giving Wire from his face.

“Of course you'd know,” Wire tsked, “you and your fucking breeding kink”

“Let's get you to bed then,” Kid said, scooping you off Killer and carrying you bridal style. Wire had the good sense to throw his cloak over you before Kid could expose you to the whole crew.

The boys were as excited as ever several months later the first time you puked after looking at what was by all accounts a totally normal meal, cheering like idiots while you ran for the ship railing to barf. Of course they’d all been working hard to make sure you were full of cum at all times, all of them doing whatever they could to be the one who sired the baby so they could win the bet. They spent the rest of the pregnancy working diligently to build a nursery aboard the Victoria Punk, reading every baby book they could find at every island they landed at and fighting over baby names, still sparring over the bet. It made you laugh, they were all so enthusiastic. You’d been so worried about even broaching the subject of a baby, but it warmed your heart to see how excited they all were about being dads. Towards the end of your pregnancy you spent a lot of time sitting with Heat, his body temperature was always so high and felt so soothing for your sore back. The others of course all spent time soothing you in their own ways: Killer would cook whatever you were craving (even if it was weird as shit and made the others gag), Kid would carry you everywhere without complaint if your ankles were swollen and help you bathe if you were feeling too tired, Wire would give you long, full body massages and make sure you were taking your supplements and resting.

For all their planning though, when your waters broke on the deck in the middle of the day they all turned into headless chickens, you had to rely on the girls on the ship to care for you till they got their shit together. Heat sat behind you on the infirmary bed to soothe your backaches, Killer and Wire sat either side of you, risking a broken hand every time you had a contraction. Kid insisted he was fine but would nearly faint every time Emma gave an update about how dilated you were, so he spent most of the labour being forced to lie down.

After 20 gruelling hours of active labour, the baby finally came. A healthy baby girl, and the others eagerly crowded around as Emma placed her in your arms, their eyes sparkling, a few watery with tears. There was a silence as they all tried to figure out who's superior sperm had won the race, and you couldn't help but laugh. The baby was a tiny copy of you - your eyes, your skin tone, a small puff of hair that matches your own. Even her other features like her nose and face shape looked like you.

“Well shit,” you laughed, “I never bothered to think of names cos I thought it'd be obvious”

There was a short silence as the men all looked between each other, it felt like an old western stare down. All at once, all keen on swaying you to their chosen name, they yelled:

“VICTORIA!”

You laughed harder as the men stared at each other in disbelief. All these months of squabbling and they all wanted the same name anyway, typical.

“Victoria it is then,” you giggled, looking down at your baby, “and how lucky you are little Victoria, with four daddies who all love you very much”

[karlathewitch]

Canaan House fun. As in what would happen, if all the houses sat down to play Monopoly?

Second House: The ones who insist reading the rules mid-game. Judith quit, because she thinks the Third is cheating.

Third House: Corona picked the cutest piece, and pretends she's just having fun. Secretly she supports Ianthe, who already has 8 different plans at the ready. Babs doesn't play, just keeps scowling at Gideon.

Fourth House: Nooo Magnus, don't buy that hotel! Magnuuus, I don't need help.

Fifth House: Magnus just wants the kids to have fun, so he "loses" halfway. Abigail provides snacks and hot chocolate.

Sixth House: Palamedes is allied to Harrowhark, and they are working together to win (or at least he thinks so)

Sevent House: They are not present, for obvious reasons.

Eight House: Silas refused to play, as it is beneath him (nobody invited him), and in the past two hours he kept telling to Collum how easily he could've won.

Ninth House: Harrow is 100% sure Palamedes is her enemy, and must be destroyed. Gideon has no idea how to play, but she keeps getting angrier at the glances Ianthe keeps shooting at Harrow. Secretly the Fifth keeps giving them tips, which are, according to Harrow, are unnecessary. (She still utilizes the tips)

Ianthe wins. Gideon and Babs are having a fistfight. Camilla got into a fight with Judith, nobody knows why.

[echobx]

I know you have Kinktober and said no prompts but I love your writing and omg I can't stop thinking about that clip of JJ and John B before the race and I wanna give JJ some good luck head or something, anything. he should fuck me for good luck yk?

Good Luck - JJ Maybank × fem!reader

summary: JJ fucks you for good luck before the race

word count: 595

warnings: smut, p in v (unprotected), making out, semi-public, backshots, creampie, breeding mention

author's note: omg nooo bc I literally said the same earlier to my besties when I rewatched that clip 😭

kinktober masterlist

“I know it's not the smartest idea, baby. I’ve heard it all from the guys, but I know I can do it,” JJ pleads as you hold onto him so he can't put his gear on. “Just ‘cause you can, doesn't mean you should,” you pout. “I'm gonna win,” he tells you, and you lift your head to look up at him, into the beautiful blue of his eyes that makes you fall in love all over again. “You should still get some good luck with you,” you smile, letting your hands run from his shoulder blades over his back to his ass, squeezing a little and making him chuckle with it. “What type of good luck are we talkin’?” “The best kind.” You nod, batting your lashes and biting your lip. It doesn't take a second before his lips are on yours, tongues entangled in a heated kiss while his hands run under your shirt, groping at your tits.

The small tent you are in isn't going to stop any of your noises from being heard outside, but you hope the crowd noises will drown it out when he rips your shorts off you, making them pool at your ankles before turning you over and making you lean on the not so sturdy table that had his helmet sitting on it. JJ is hastily unbuckling his belt and tugging his pants down to his thighs. “If I win, I'm gonna knock you up,” JJ groans, running his leaking tip through your wet folds. “Win and I'll let you,” you say while looking back at him, mirroring the deep smile on his face that contorts into a pleasure-stricken groan as he pushes into your tight pussy. “Jesus Christ,” a laugh rumbles through his throat as he pulls out almost completely just to slam back into you. You convulse around him, moaning and holding onto the table for dear life, while his hands dig into your hips, bruising your soft flesh. “Don't have much time,” JJ pants, trying to fuck you even faster than he is, and if you weren't so wet you'd surely tear in two if he doesn't finish soon. “Tell me you're close, baby,” he breathes heavily, pulling you up with your hair wrapped around his hand. “So close,” you moan, head resting against his shoulder and pussy clenching impossibly tight around his thick length. “M’gonna win,” JJ starts mumbling repeatedly as you feel his thrusts growing sloppier and his dick twitches inside you. “Gonna come,” you cry out in one moment and in the other your face is back down, pressed against the cold plastic of the table while your juices squirt out all around him and drip onto his pants. “That's it, baby,” JJ moans, giving you two last deep thrusts before he shoots his cum deep into your guts, and you gasp at the feeling.

He pulls out, and you can hear his zipper, then you feel his hands run over your ass, delivering a light smack before he kneels down and kisses your clit. “Got your good luck all over my pants, baby,” he chuckles and pulls your shorts, and slip back up. He pulls you into his arms, turning you around so he can kiss you. “I love you,” you whisper against him, your hands cupping his cheeks while his are on your ass. “Make me proud,” you smile, and with a last squeeze of your soft flesh he lets go of you, taking a step back and leaving the tent and you to race against Rafe Cameron. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi

[rafeandonlyrafe]

pheromones

words: 1.1k

warnings: 18+ only! smut, male receiving oral, idk if this is a warning but talk about his soft penis???

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog

“ive missed you so so much.” you tell rafe, arms wrapped around his shoulders, your face stuck into his neck, inhaling his scent that you've been devoid of all day.

“missed you too baby.” rafe rubs his hands over your back before picking you up, letting your legs cross over his waist while his hands grip your bum to hold you up as he walks into the kitchen, setting you down on the countertop.

“how was work?” you hum, not really interested in how his day went, you're too distracted by his smooth deep voice and the way his hands move as he prepared a sandwich for himself, always needing a little something to eat after he gets home from a long day.

“baby, are you even listening?” rafe questions, making your eyes shoot up to his face as he takes a bite of his sandwich.

you blush, knowing you've been caught. “im sorry.”

rafe laughs gently, moving between your legs as he finishes his sandwich, letting you pet your hands all over him, his thickly muscled arms, smooth planes of his cheeks, and wide strong chest.

you lean in once he finishes the sandwich, pressing your nose against his chest and inhaling, the unique scent of musk filling your head.

“come here.” rafe hums, hands coming to cup your jaw, tilting your head up to press a strong kiss against your lips. you immediately deepen it, tilting your head and pressing your chest against rafes as your mouth works against his.

rafe pulls away far too early for your liking, making you whine.

“oh shush baby.” rafe says, but the smile on his face shows that he's not mad at all, even if you are being a little bratty. “im gonna go shower.”

“nooo.” you grip onto his hand as he starts to move away.

“no?” rafe questions.

you sigh. you obviously have no problem with rafe being clean, but you also hate that the shower removes his natural scent, replacing it with whatever body wash you currently have in stock. it's an artificial scent, and while still good, it's nothing compared to rafes natural odor after all of that has worn off.

“i wanna suck you.” you simply say, sliding off the counter and onto your knees.

rafe smiles down at you, his hand coming to pet your cheek. “you're a desperate little thing, arent you?” rafe questions, and you're worried he's going to deny you, but he just takes your hand and helps you stand. “i don't want you to bruise your knees on the tile when we have that event on friday. you can suck me off in the living room.”

rafe leads you onto the carpeted floor, much softer so your skin wouldn't turn purple. you slide to your knees again, hands immediately coming to his pants, working the button and zipper open before tugging them down. rafe places his hands on his hips, looking down at you as you grip the band of his underwear, pulling it down to his knees next.

rafes cock is still soft, making you smile. you love when you get to bring him to hardness. you dont waste any time touching with your hands, wanting him in your mouth immediately.

when rafe is soft it's the only time you can fit him comfortably inside of your mouth. you take a deep breath of his scent, so intoxicating your mouth waters as you suck on his soft dick, your eyes rolling back in your head at the smooth pliable skin, tongue rubbing over his length.

“my pretty girl just couldn't resist, huh?” rafe questions, hands smoothing over your hair as he looks down at you, a loving gaze in his eyes despite the lewd nature of your actions.

“i love when your cock is soft like this.” you hum, licking over the shaft as it hardens under your tongue.

“you like it soft?” rafe laughs, hand gripping your hair as he guides your teasing kisses back to the head of his cock. you seperate your lips, taking it back into his mouth.

“mhm.” you nod, humming around his cock, your hand coming to grip the base of his length, stroking as you continue to suckle on the head. 

“but what about all the things i can do to you when im hard?” rafe questions, groaning when you pull off to answer, but your hand quickly makes up for it as you grip his now hardened length.

“i love that too, obviously. it's just so cute all soft.” you smile gently, looking at his cock lovingly.

“you are silly, babygirl.” rafe says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“i just love everything about you. everything about you is hot and cute and adorable and sexy and-”

“baby.” rafe cuts off your rambling, looking down at you expectantly. “you were sucking me off.”

“oh right, sorry!” you giggle, making up for the lapse in blowing him by taking his cock as deeply down your throat as you can, bobbing your head immediately, closing your eyes to concentrate on making him cum as quickly as possible, needing his flavor on your tongue.

“your mouth is spectacular.” rafe groans, hands gripping your hair, guiding you up and down his cock, knowing exactly how deep he can press before it's too much for you.

you pull off to blink up at rafe. “spectacular? really?” you giggle.

“shut up.” rafe groans, rolling his eyes with a smile playing at his lips. he shoves you back onto his cock, now beginning to thrust his hips as well to meet you, not caring when you cough or gag slightly.

“gonna cum in your mouth.” rafe says, and you nod slightly, humming around his cock as he continues fucking into your awaiting mouth. you suck as deeply as you can, anxious for his warm seed to spread along your tongue.

rafe releases with a groan, pushing his cock down your throat for the first couple spurts before pulling back, letting you suckle on the head of his cock while licking out every drop that you can.

you pull away to stick your tongue out for rafe, letting him see the mess of cum on your tongue before nodding to let you swallow it, which you do happily.

“can i go shower now baby?” rafe asks, helping you stand up as you stretch out your sore legs, but no bruises grace your knees.

“if i can shower with you.��� you say, not ready to part from your boyfriend yet.

“if i can fuck you in the shower.” rafe says, laughing when you nod enthusiastically.

[flowerandblood]

Play with my heart (Epilogue)

[ modern actors • Aemond x Strong • female ]

[ warnings: semi-public sex, smut, angst, fluff, sexual tension, little domination & praise kink ]

[ description: He gets the main role in a series about a great family and dragons, which could change his career. He is set to play the uncle and love interest of his childhood friend. When he meets the actress who plays her role, he begins to lose track of what is an acting and what is his real feelings. Sexual tension, grumpy, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: Yeah. I talked about it and I did it. You don't even know how much fun I had doing this. Of course, my characters play in a series whose script is an exact copy of my story The Fall from the Heavens. In this universe, Aemond (playing the One-Eyed Prince) and Rhaenys (playing the Princess) are of course not related – the other characters are also just actors. This three-part series is my gift to all fans of the original series, thank you so much for your support. "Rhaenys" in this story is her artistic pseudonym which she use instead of her real name. You can read this as a standalone story.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

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The first months after the shooting were both wonderful and terrifying for him. Contrary to his grandfather's predictions, he did not stop thinking about her; moreover, he missed her so much that he did not know what to do with himself.

He got used to their daily conversations, the embrace of her warm arms, falling asleep between her soft breasts, watching Disney movies together with her with a big bowl of popcorn.

She brought a breath of fresh air into his life, a smile, lightness and laughter, forcing him to let his inner child that he had always suppressed within him come to the surface.

With her, he was not ashamed to be weak, tired, sad, discouraged. She gave him the comfort of knowing that all his feelings as a human being were natural and desired by her, no matter how ashamed he might be of them.

They tried to see each other every two weekends, taking turns visiting each other. Although he wanted to spend time with her walking around museums and parks, they usually ended up staying in bed all the time off, trying to make up for lost time.

They also saw each other at interviews to promote the series, for which the producers sent the actors in pairs, and unfortunately, although they tried to hide it, a few gestures and glances during them caused both her and him to be flooded with a wave of comments from fans so large that they had to block them from being added to their profiles.

Nooo, they're not a good match. 😫

It's just a promotional trick. They're going to break up after they finish airing the series. 😒

Leave my prince alone!!! 🤬🤬🤬

I'd love to fuck her myself, not gonna lie 👀

It's already clear where the chemistry between them comes from, lol. Pathetic. 🤮

Both of them were very much affected by the nasty comments and criticism, fearing that the production would draw some consequences against them, but it turned out that this made the whole project generate even more interest before the premiere, which pleased them.

However, in between the nasty, bitter remarks, they also received messages filled with good emotions, wishing them luck, saying that they were great to watch, that they complemented each other perfectly in interviews, that it was clear from the trailers that there was genuine affection between them.

They tried to cope with it all by talking for hours on the phone, sometimes crying together from sadness and exhaustion, falling asleep with speakerphone on, waking up in the morning and seeing that they hadn't hung up all night.

He felt he was ready to move on and thought everything through, at the same time wanting to surprise her.

"– how was your audition? –" She asked softly, excitement in her voice.

"– unfortunately, not very successful –" He lied, fiddling with his pen between his fingers, sitting at his desk, having just exchanged emails with the director of her theatre, with whom he had spoken personally a few days before about the terms of his future employment.

"– oh no – I'm very sorry – how are you feeling? –" She asked clearly worried, making him feel remorseful for a moment that she would believe he was suffering.

"– fine – I wasn't feeling that role – I'm lucky that I can be more choosy now – and how are you, little one? –" He hummed, writing back in an email that, as agreed, he would turn up in three days to sign the contract in their town.

His girlfriend grunted, clearly very excited by the news she had to share with him.

"– apparently they've hired a new actor in our theatre, but no one knows who it is – the director is very mysterious –" She said, her voice light and warm, filled with joy.

"– mmm – are you excited to have a new colleague on stage? –" He murmured as he sent the email, closing his laptop with a quiet click.

He heard her laugh at his words.

"– not in the way you suggest –" She said.

"– are you a good girl when I'm not around? –" He hummed, licking his lips involuntarily, feeling the pulsation in his trousers at his words.

"– well –"

"– are you touching yourself? –"

"– I –"

"– answer me – don't lie –"

She was silent for a long moment making him grin, biting his lower lip.

"– so you haven't been a good girl, or am I wrong? –" He sneered and heard her swallow hard.

"– you know what happens to bad girls, don't you? –" He asked, looking at the display of his screen, feeling his heart pounding fast.

"– but –" She finally mumbled out in embarrassment.

"– mmm – I'll see you soon –" He murmured and hung up, knowing that he had left her in complete shock for sure with her panties wet with her moisture.

The third thing he enjoyed most right after fucking her and talking to her was teasing her.

The next day the removal van took his things to the flat he had rented on short notice figuring they would find something together later, and after two days he drove to her town straight to the theatre building.

He went inside through the main entrance and ran quickly upstairs, praying not to meet her on the way, heading for her director's office. The man welcomed him warmly, saying that he was very happy that an actor with such charisma would be performing on his stage.

From the audience it was impossible to see whether his eye was real or fake, and his scar could be covered up with make-up if necessary.

His grandfather was furious, saying that he was giving up a world-class career for second-rate theatre, but he was relieved.

He didn't want to go through again what he was going through now – being torn apart by paparazzi and fans, being in the spotlight all the time.

He was tired of it and decided that, although it was a great adventure, like her he wanted to work in theatre, where artistic sense, monologues and dialogues counted more than nudity and sex.

It was what he wanted for both of them.

The director said it was time to introduce him to the whole crew.

"– I kept it a secret from everyone so that she wouldn't accidentally find out about anything –" The director laughed, a short, grey-haired man with a warm voice and a good-natured face, a visionary and a lover of the classic literature he was staging in his theatre.

"– I can see you with the eyes of my imagination in the roles of Hamlet and Ophelia – you've been wonderfully matched, I have to give you that –" He said softly, and he nodded, thinking in the back of his mind that indeed, this was a fantastic idea.

He felt excited like a little child and thought in the back of his mind that it was because of her, that she had changed him, making him fight for his fulfilment, his comfort, his joy.

"– my dears –" He called out, stepping onto the stage during their rehearsal for The Wedding of Wyspianski, his Rhaenys dressed in Slavic folk costume and a garland on her head turned towards them along with several other people.

Her eyes grew big in disbelief at the sight of him.

"– I would like to introduce you to your new colleague, who from now on will be playing on the stage of our theatre – I am very pleased –"

Everyone looked at her and she just stood there, looking at him and his grin full of satisfaction, breathing loudly through her mouth, her bright eyes hot with affection, disbelief and happiness that apparently shook her body.

Several people laughed as she threw herself into his arms and burst into a loud, panicked sob, whooping and panting with her own tears, his broad hands stroking her hair and back while his lips placed warm, reassuring kisses on her face hot with emotion.

"– shhh – it's okay, little one –"

She looked at him in disbelief, gushing with energy and joy as she introduced everyone to him one by one. He was relieved by the warm welcome given to him by the other actors, some of whom could have been his parents or even grandparents.

They seemed very close to each other and addressed each other warmly.

He was allowed to stay in rehearsal to see how they worked, so he watched as his girlfriend played a young bride, a village girl marrying a nobleman, during whose wedding many unexplained, mysterious events occur.

He smiled the whole time, watching her, satisfied that apart from one brief kiss there was no intimacy on stage between her and her partner, exactly as she had described it to him in their telephone conversations.

When it was all over she ran up to him in her folk costume, all hot, breathing loudly through her mouth, field flowers entwined together on her head.

"– what do you think?! –" She asked, and he hummed under his breath.

"– I really like your staging – I need to read this drama – you look amazing –" He hummed. He smiled under his breath as she sat on his lap – the seats in the audience were sunk in darkness so the people on stage couldn't see very well what they were doing.

"– I can't believe it – you've been lying all this time –" She muttered simultaneously embittered and delighted. He shook his head at her words.

"– I told you I had an audition – I just didn't say where –" He stated.

"– you said you did badly –" She said, wrinkling her eyebrows – she squealed as he caught her around the waist and pulled her closer, making her feel the hard bulge in his trousers.

"– that was my subjective assessment which was clearly not shared by your director –" He grinned, looking at her with his lips slightly parted. They both sighed as her hips rubbed against his pulsing erection, her gaze hot and misty.

"– my little girl can't stand it? – shall I take you to the toilet? –" He sneered and she swallowed hard, red with embarrassment and nodded.

Nothing more than panting and moans left their throats as they locked themselves in one of the cabins, their mouths immediately clinging to each other in greedy, loud, messy, sticky kisses. Their saliva clicked each time their lips pulled away from each other, his hands pulled up the material of her skirt and petticoat, pulling her panties off her thighs.

"– turn your back to me –" He commanded, and she did so without a word of objection, in a natural reflex leaning over and bucking her buttocks towards him, knowing what he wanted to do. His hands exposed her bare hips to him and what was between them, her opening glistening from her wetness, pink and swollen.

He hit her womanhood with a sharp, short slap and she jumped up with a quiet squeal and whimpered.

"– quiet – I warned you – I said: no touching – didn't I? –" He asked, gently rubbing and massaging the little spot that pulsed all over and leaked from his stroke, teasing the puffy bud between her plushy folds.

"– 'm sorry – I tried –" She confessed with embarrassment, panting heavily, rolling her hips to the rhythm of the strokes of his hand, trying to find a better source of squeeze.

"– the deal was different –" He said coolly, parting and rubbing her throbbing, dripping wet slit, her cheek pressed against the wall all red with pleasure, her lips parted in a helpless moan.

"– it's all mine – the sight of your fulfilment, your moisture, your little cunt is meant for my eyes –" He continued, as if he was explaining to her some essential, eternal principle, something obvious and logical that she could not change. She trembled as two of his fingers slipped between her slick, throbbing walls, stretching her core.

"– yes – I'm sorry – I missed you so much –" She mumbled, rocking her hips to the rhythm of the thrusts of his fingers, which teased and pressed the spongy bud between her fleshy folds deep inside her, from which a trickle of her moisture ran down her thigh.

"– mmm – I know, baby – I missed you too –" He confessed, recognising that although he wanted to, he couldn't last much longer. This sight and the euphoria that gripped his body made him let go of her as his hands slid down to the belt of his trousers, undoing it – her eyes opened in hope, her breath accelerated and uneven.

"– please –" She muttered.

"– shhh –" He hushed her, grabbing her by the waist, the other releasing his throbbing, fat erection, the tip of which he guided to her leaking, swollen slit.

"– thaat's it – there you go – fuck –" He exhaled, slowly forcing his way between her hot, fleshy walls, clenching greedily around his cock, sucking it inside her.

"– yes – yes, God, please, yes –" She mewled, immediately beginning to roll her hips to the rhythm of his impatient, fierce thrusts, fitting his pulsing erection inside her again and again, though they tried to restrain themselves, their panting and moans echoed around the restroom.

"– Rhaenys –" He muttered, sinking his face into her fragrant, hot neck, her scent wonderfully familiar, her insides moist and warm, welcoming him with ease. He thought about it, thrusting into her with slick, sharp stabs – how deep he was in her body, how much they united in this chaotic, viscous act of desire.

"– Aemond – o-oh, fuck, fuck, oh, God –" She cried out as he imposed a fast, aggressive pace on her, pounding into her with the deep, sharp pushes of his hips, opening her wide with his manhood throbbing painfully with longing.

"– shhh – shhh, little one – just a little more – yes, that's my girl –" He praised her, panting heavily as he felt her reach the edge, her breath heavy and loud.

Nothing more than moans and grunts left her lips, her little cunt gave him a few more thirsty, steady squeezes before she shuddered with sweet fulfilment, her wetness running down his thighs as with the last, loud slaps he reached his peak inside her with a sigh of delight.

Since she was taking the pills, he could fuck her whenever and wherever he wanted.

"– fuck –" He breathed out, embracing her tightly from behind, while still rocking his hips inside her and hugging her like a little, longing child.

He wished she would say that they were going to watch some new cartoon or comedy in the evening, that they were going to lie in their sweatpants, spread out comfortably on her bed, cuddled up, eating popcorn, kissing and caressing each other.

"– m-maybe – maybe let's go to my place – we'll watch something and relax – I can cook you something, but we need to do some shopping –" She whispered, stroking his arm, and he purred, delighted by her words.

"– yes – yes, that's what I need –"

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

I’m literally going feral over ur fierce deity fics I’ve been dehydrated for so long and these are like a tall glass of water

Could I pretty please with a cherry on top request a Fierce Deity x reader where Like theyre Just hanging out together and fierce is just really gently putting flowers in the readers hair and they’re watching the sunset together and fierce just thinks the reader is really pretty while they’re yapping about their day

THANK YOU SO MUCH IN ADVANCE IF YOU DO DECIDE TO DO THIS BUT YOU DONT HAVE TO <333

CONSIDER IT WRITTEN. Fierce Deity is literally my weakness, so I'm ecstatic more people love him!

Braided Daisies

Pairing: Fierce Deity x Reader

Warning(s): Tooth-rotting fluff and philosophical discussions that probably shouldn't be read before one's morning coffee.

Masterlist

There was a clearing a mile's walk from your house. It was small and quiet, filled to the brim with tall, swaying grass. In early spring, a myriad of flowers bloomed among the vegetation, as if sprinkled by the gods themselves. But its best feature was by far its proximity to a staggering, craggy cliff, and the accompanying view that followed for anyone lucky enough to stumble upon it.

"—And THEN I told him I don't make the rules around here, but nooo," you ranted to the Fierce Deity from your sprawled position on the grass. You had originally intended to come here alone, but it seemed you had an adventurer in your midst. That, and the fact that it was becoming increasingly hard to refute him when he looked at you with such... care? Want? You weren't quite sure, but from the looks the other boys would shoot him, you assumed it was deep. "—of course I look rich enough to be the owner... in my work uniform!"

"That is... unfortunate," mused the deity, looking almost offended. When his gaze turned menacing, you realized you probably shouldn't have shared your troubles with a literal guard dog of a god. "If you require assistance—"

"Nope, nope, nope," you waved your hands frantically. "I am not dealing with you mauling someone."

The put-off expression on his face would have made you cackle if you hadn't known his offer was very much real. "Shame."

Shame?!

"I'll stop baking if you kill someone," you leveraged, holding back the urge to laugh when his expression turned to one of abject horror, then what you could only assume was his version of a pouty face. "Don't look at me like that, I will do it."

There was silence as you held his gaze, setting your jaw in what you hoped was a stern expression. Miraculously, Fierce was the first to break eye contact, leaning back on his arms with a deep sigh. "You are brave," he said, and there was something soft in his tone that you couldn't place for the life of you. "Have you always been this way?"

It was such a him question, yet you had to stop and process why in the world the Fierce Deity wanted to know something so mundane about you, a mere mortal. It couldn't have been genuine curiosity... but there was no other explanation. "I... maybe? It depends on your definition of bravery, I guess."

"And what is yours?" He was getting closer, practically casting a shadow over you. A callused hand drew forward, capturing a strand of your hair, rubbing softly, and the notion that he was feeling your hair threw you for the greatest loop of your life.

"Bravery is..." you trailed off, averting your eyes. What was bravery? To say one had bravery meant they had a strong character... some could even say a heroic one, but it felt too simple an answer to give to such a being, especially when he gazed down at you with a warmth you hadn't felt in a long time. Not even the burning tangerine of the horizon—smattered with flashes of gold and honeysuckle— could ignite your skin in the way his eyes could. "...immediate."

Impossibly, the deity leaned closer, tone expectant. "Immediate?"

Fuck, he was practically on top of you. "I-It's not like courage, because that comes slow and is more moral based, but..." you gulped. "I guess bravery is what happens in the moment, as in the choices you make when there's no time to make them."

"I see," rumbled Fierce as he withdrew, resuming his cross-legged position next to you. As if on instinct, you raised yourself onto your elbows and huffed.

"Why do you even want to know?" you questioned, emboldened by the falling sun. "You're a god and I'm just... human. I'm sure there's a million more interesting things out there."

"You speak as though my curiosity is an insult," intoned the deity, gaze fixed on the bleeding horizon. "I can assure you, it is not."

And that was all there was to it, really. You knew the topic had died as soon as he fell silent, though it didn't mean you were giving up just yet. You reached out, picked a nearby daisy, and offered it to him. "Can you braid?"

"Excuse me?"

"You said you wanted to discover," you defended lightly, even though there was no need to. "Hair braiding is easy when you get the hang of it, but it's a lot easier to learn using someone else's hair."

A beat passed, and you thought for sure he was going to reject the idea. That is, until his hand twitched up to take the flower, examining it with keen eyes. You took it as an invitation to scoot closer—already parting your hair in preparation—until your legs brushed his own and your chests were nary two feet apart. "Okay," you relinquished the flower and put the head at the top of the braid. "You're going to want to cover it with one section like so, then keep braiding like you normally would without letting the stem fall, capiche?" You held up the half finished braid for inspection, eventually pulling it apart and offering him the flow. "Now you try!"

There was determination in the Fierce Deity's eyes as he relinquished the flower and did as instructed: laying the head at the top of the brain and incorporating it with every cross and pull. His touch was so gentle you could have mistaken it for the wind pulling your hair, and you wondered it he feared anything harder than featherlight pressure would shatter you, though that was most certainly not the case. Before you knew it, he had reached the bottom of the strands, and was merely holding it as to not fall apart. You took that as a cue to snap a hair tie on that sucker and shoot him a happy grin. "It looks great, awesome job!"

But the Fierce Deity remained silent, simply gazing at you with eyes softer than silk before rising to his feet. You tilted your head in confusion, about to ask where he was going, when he bent down, plucked another daisy from the earth, and plopped down behind you. "What are you—"

A heavy hand laid itself on your shoulder, applying gentle, firm pressure as the deity's voice rumbled in your ear. "Be still, I am only using the skills you have shown me."

And, without preamble, he sectioned your hair like a pro and began to braid while you sort of just sat there, questioning everything that had lead up to this point. He was so close that you could feel the press of his muscled abdomen against your very unmuscled back, and it was doing unspeakable things to the beating organ in your chest. A sort of choked gasp left your lips when he reached down to capture your wrist before pulling a hair tie from it, but you forced yourself into silence—he seemed to enjoy it, so who were you to deny him—?

"Have I upset you?" Came Fierce's voice, clear as day. His actions with your hair halted, and you nearly morned the loss of his body heat when he pulled away.

"I— what?" How in the world could he have upset you? There was simply no way.

"You are quiet," answered the deity, as if it made perfect sense. "I ask again: have I upset you?"

"No?" You could hardly comprehend how he came to such a conclusion, but you would do everything in your power to rectify whatever misunderstanding he was living under. "How does that have anything to do with me being upset?"

"You talk when you are happy," and he noticed?? Did he think you were upset because you weren't rambling?

"Well, yes," dear lord, he was too precious. "But I can be happy in silence, too."

"Ah," you felt a wave of relief when his hands fell on the braid again, lifting it for what you could only guess was inspection. "I had assumed you disliked quiet."

"Funny, because I thought the same."

"Then it appears we both assumed wrong," stated the deity, and you couldn't have agreed more.

The fading light was filled with laugher as you regaled him with more stories from work, throwing in a few embarrassing childhood ones when things became dry. During this, Fierce fitted two more braids into your hair, each with a different flower. You could hardly wait to look in the mirror when you arrived home, an idea that seemed less and less pleasant as your conversation dragged on.

When the sun was all but a speck in a sea of navy, you reluctantly started the trek back, noting how insignificant the darkness seemed when you had Fierce by your side, expression attentive as he listened to you talk about nothing in particular. It puzzled you how he seemed to hang off of every word, but you assumed it was merely loneliness. Had it been lighter outside, or your attention sharper, you would have noticed the crimson flush painting his cheeks a deeper red than the very horizon.

The plot got away from me a bit, but I still think it turned out great. Hope y'all enjoyed!

[reverie-starlight]

Osamu + doing their makeup for them on the first prompt list? 🥹🥹🙏🙏

SO CUTE!!! I'm not sure which way you wanted this, but this was the first thing that came to mind. hope you enjoy!!

gn!reader that owns/uses makeup, no physical descriptions, fluff fluff fluff, I need to write for osamu more. I think legally for every three atsumu fics I post on this blog, I need to do one for his brother. pls don't hold me to that. very dialogue heavy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"how did I let ya talk me into this?" osamu sighs from underneath you. of course he knows how- your puppy dog eyes and sweet, sweet voice buttering him up.

you giggle and shift a bit so you're straddling him more comfortably. "because you loveeee meeee," you sing. "and you're extremely weak against my charm," you swipe some bright green eye shadow over his left eyelid.

the man sighs again, but the corner of his mouth is clearly twitching upwards at the reminder. "yeah, yeah, whatever," he starts bouncing his leg to pass the time and you click your tongue.

"'samu, stop moving, I'm gonna mess your face up."

he lets out a sudden laugh. "yeah, I'm sure moving my leg a little bit is the thing that's gonna mess my face up. definitely not the gremlin sitting on my lap with some-" he opens his right eye to try to get a glimpse of the brush but you're quick to pull it out of his view. "mystery colour. I don't like the look on your face, sweetheart, what are ya doin' to me?"

your laugh is far too ominous for his liking. "don't you worry, baby, I'm gonna make you so pretty."

"wasn't worried," he shoots back automatically, but then he grumbles a bit while rubbing your thighs, "thought you already considered me pretty."

"aww, so pouty," you coo at him. "keep it up and I'm gonna put some gloss on you, too."

you have to kiss away his scowl and reassure him that nothing sticky or wet will be applied to his lips before lunch.

he stays still until you announce that you're finished. he's a little too quick about scooping you up in his arms and rising from his chair.

you had been giggling throughout the entire process and he remembers the barely concealed mischief behind your eyes when you first begged to do his makeup. there was absolutely zero chance that you had actually given him a cohesive look, but you've been so down lately, that seeing you genuinely laugh and smile made him just a bit more willing than usual to let you have your way.

"samu!" you shriek when he throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

he adjusts his grip on the back of your thighs to keep you from squirming too much. "this had better be the best look of the damn century, sweetheart, or you're going to pay for it."

"what? nooo, baby I swear I was just messing around-" you're squirming relentlessly now, doing everything in your power to get out of his grip and run to safety. your boyfriend is relentless when it comes to payback. granted, you don't mind one bit, but it doesn't make the build-up any less terrifying.

he flicks the light switch on and it's dead-silent in the bathroom as he takes in his new look. his grip loosens just a bit and you take the opportunity to finally wiggle out of his arms and stand beside him.

osamu is just standing there, jaw slacked and staring at his reflection. you bite your lip to stop more laughter from bubbling out.

on his left eye is the bright green eyeshadow you had hidden from his view. on his right is a glittery neon pink. you've applied eyeliner on him as well, however not as sharp as what he sees you do for yourself. not sharp at all, actually, because instead of his eyeliner being winged, you've turned it into rounded flower petals. his blush is horrendously over applied to the apples of his cheeks, making him look like a doll.

and for the final blow, you've also "tattooed" some words onto his face in red lip liner.

atsumu is the better twin.

how you managed to fit it all is a mystery to him- he's almost impressed- but what's even more dumfounding is how he hadn't realized you were writing on him.

he blames your adorable smile for distracting him.

once he's done processing, he turns to look at you slowly and you feel a strange mix of fear and excitement pooling in your stomach. you're both extremely still and waiting for the other to make a move.

you decide not to tell him that you realized halfway into the flower petal eyeliner that you forgot to restock your makeup remover.

after an agonizing ten seconds, your lover only has to narrow his eyes to get you shrieking and running for cover.

lunch will have to wait a bit longer, but he decides he's okay with that as he chases you down the hall and pretends he can't catch up. he'll get his fill soon enough, anyway.

"yeah, you'd better run, darlin'."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

thank you so much for sending this in, I hope you enjoyed!!

@emmyrosee come get your husband

[astrophileous]

Derek getting jealous over Bug’s pregnancy pillow 🤭🤭🤭 he just doesn’t understand how it can be that much more comfortable than he would be. If Bug makes him snuggle with it post-pregnancy when she needs to sneak out from his arms during the night to check on the baby too? He wakes up like “????”

Nooo but can you imagine how EXASPERATED he is when Bug pulls out the pillow again when she's pregnant with their daughter/Baby Bug???? 😭😭😭

Btw so sorry for the delay, I was stressing FOR DAYS bcs my brain refused to cooperate and write (I think it's back to normal now so YAY)

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Not this montrosity again."

Derek nearly whined at the sight of your pregnancy pillow; the one you had stored safely after the birth of your son, and the same one you had pulled out of its resting place now that you were in your second trimester with your daughter. It was a gift from a friend, and Derek was never a fan of it since the first time the pillow found its way into your shared bed.

"Don't say that." You put your palms on either side of the pillow, acting as if you were cupping its ears. "He might hear you."

"Great. So it's a he?!"

"Derek Morgan, you're not seriously jealous over a freaking pillow?"

"I have the right to be when you constantly choose to cuddle with it." You suppressed a giggle when you saw the daggers Derek was shooting its way. "I don't understand why you need the pillow when you have me."

"Because, as much as I love and adore your hard panes and muscles, I need something fluffy to get me sleeping comfortably through the night."

Derek scoffed loudly.

Who would've thought Derek would ever live to see the day he found himself mourning over the fact that he was fucking ripped?

Every night before the two of you went to bed, Derek never failed in throwing the dirtiest, nastiest look in the direction of said pregnancy pillow as if the inanimate object was singlehandedly responsible for ruining his entire life. Derek couldn't be more happy to get rid of it the moment you came home from the hospital with your daughter in your arms. Unfortunately, the man soon realized that getting rid of the offensive item might be a more challenging task than he had ever anticipated in the first place.

"Bug?" Derek mumbled blearily one night as he rose from the light sleep he had accidentally fallen under.

The last thing he remembered was lying in bed with you in his arms. Something about the lull of your voice and the familiar scent of your body wash had managed to make him drift into an unexpected slumber. Derek was putty whenever you were next to him, and he was perpetually alright with that knowledge if it meant he got to keep you constantly by his side.

The bedroom was enveloped in darkness as he stirred, squeezing your flesh wherever his arm could reach. But Derek realized a little too late in his half-awake state that the softness in his hand was, in fact, not you. And it took a few more seconds for him to turn on the bedside lamp to confirm that it wasn't you who was lying in his arms.

It was the fucking pillow.

Derek grabbed the object with utter disgust, stomping through the house until he found you in the nursery. You were sitting in the rocking chair, nursing your infant daughter in your arms, when you looked up at the sound of the door opening. Your head immediately threw back in laughter once you saw the look of contempt that Derek was aiming towards the pillow in his hand.

"What's wrong, Derek?"

"I woke up to this in my arms."

"Did you have a good sleep cuddling with the pillow?" You snickered, enjoying the way Derek's frown deepened with frustration. "I told you it's comfy."

Derek scowled at your cheeky wink, refusing to relent even if deep down he had also begrudgingly started to agree with that sentiment.

After that night, you never heard him threaten to throw out the pregnancy pillow, ever again.

[ddejavvu]

Pizza Box Puzzle Pieces - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake is a responsible drinker, he swears. But when you're stuck being responsible for the night, a very drunk Jake gives you all but one piece to a puzzle you don't complete until the morning after.

Contents/Warnings: drinking, fem!reader, typical hangman behavior, enemies to lovers (really more like rivals to lovers)

Requested: A thousand times congratulations on such an amazing milestone! Could I please have an espresso w. enemies to lovers with Jake ‘hangman’ Seresin? ☀️ - @saintlike78 THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS SINCE SEPTEMBER I AM SO SORRY MY LOVE i hope you still like hangman &lt;3

WC: 5.3K / navi

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Jake Seresin is a responsible drinker. He keeps a rideshare app on his phone, he tells Bob (the permanent sober babysitter) that he needs to be cut off after 10:00 PM, and he gives Penny his keys before he even orders his first drink.

Tonight, though, she'd left them unattended. There they were, shiny and appealing, sitting on the bar. She had left to get a clean dishrag, he could just take them! Driving sounded fun now, less of a chore and more of an adventure now that his brain was blurry.

You watch Jake's eyes widen as he catches sight of his keys, and your hand darts out to snag them before he can. His reflexes are slow, and when he reaches for them, his hand hits empty counter space.

He looks around, bewildered. They'd just disappeared.

"Here, Bagman." You jingle the keys in your hand, and he catches the sound from the few seats down where he's sitting. His eyes drift aimlessly over to your hand, and brighten at the sight of his keys.

"Thanks," He drawls, his southern lilt far more noticeable now that he's running on autopilot, "I'm gonna-" he hiccups hard, his chest bouncing, "Head home."

He stands, wobbly on his feet, and treads forwards to take the keys from you. You raise them above your head, but he doesn't follow, instead slumping forwards as his hand grasps at thin air. His head hits your chest and Coyote catches your eye from over Jake's shoulder. You widen your eyes, flaunting the keys you'd managed to snatch from him.

All the pilot does is laugh, and then his attention is shifted back to the dartboard. Typical.

"Jesus," You grunt, pushing at Jake's chest. He straightens up again, eyes blinking open from where they'd been shut, "What did you drink?"

"I don't remember," He admits, and that's all the explanation you need.

"Come on," You reach for his pocket, his phone sticking out, "Let's call you a ride."

"Nooo," He darts away, almost too late to evade you, "That's my phone."

"Yes Hangman," You smirk, "I think you're smarter drunk than you are sober."

"But that's-" He fumbles with his cell, "You can't touch my phone."

"I want to get you home," You urge, once more reaching for the device in his hands, "Don't you want to go to sleep?"

"You can't have it," He insists, yanking the waistband of his khakis off of his stomach and slipping his phone dangerously close to his crotch, "Unless you-" Another hiccup that flutters his eyelashes, "-wanna take it."

The smirk he shoots you after shoving his phone down his pants contains lethal cockiness. You're surprised the sheer size of his ego doesn't knock you down, you're not sure how you're standing so close to him without running into it.

You glance down at his phone. It's protruding just enough from his waistband for it to be quick and easy to grab. But your hand has never been that close to Jake's dick before, and you're hoping it never will be.

"Fuck," You deflate, shoulders slumping as your fingers curl tighter around his keys, "Come on, I'm driving you."

"Take my car," He insists, as if he's forgotten you have his keys, "It's.. It's really cool."

"Can't wait," You  gripe, slinging his arm around your shoulders, "Come on, one foot in front of the other, Seresin."

The cold night air hits you like a tsunami. It floods your thin shirt and seeps into your bones, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. You've never known it to get this cold here, and the skin-to-skin that Jake's shoulder provides against your own is your only warmth.

You prop him up against his car while you fumble with the keys, but before you can click the 'unlock' button, he's snatching them from you.

"I wanna- I wanna do it," He insists, gripping the pointed end and bumping it up against the panel on the outside of the keyhole, "It's my car, I wanna.. do it."

You give him a minute to figure out the key. After it passes you yank it from where he's been pathetically butting it up against the hole, still confused about how to slot it inside.

"Gimme," You grumble, sliding the key into the hole with barely a second's delay, "You're too drunk for this."

"I'm not drunk." He scoffs. He says it with so much sincerity, with so much raw belief, that you're surprised that it doesn't come into existence. You're surprised the alcohol doesn't drain from his system completely, and leave him his usual coordinated, upright self. But he's still leaning against his car, half-coherent and dizzy.

"Right." You chuckle, throwing open the driver's side door and unlocking the rest of the car, "Get in, Hangman."

He starts for your seat and you shove him away, "No, not the driver's seat," You groan, "Other side."

He starts for the backseat.

"For fuck's sake," You exclaim, grabbing his bicep to lead him around the car, "The passenger's side!"

You get him wrestled into his seat with no further drunken antics, and you relish the fact that you've gotten him calm for the night. He's anything but when you finally glance up at his face, though, great big tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

"You're mean." He whispers, his voice shaky. You've never seen such a pitiful sight, his big green eyes brimming with anguish that seeps down his cheeks in rivers of tears. "You grabbed me, and-" He waves his bicep at you, "And you manhandled me," He gushes, angst-stricken, "You're mean!"

"I'm sorry," You sigh, playing into his inebriated sorrow, "Are you okay, Hangman?"

He doesn't note the sarcasm in your voice, sniffling pathetically, "No. It hurts."

You offer a quick pat to the affected area, but he shakes his head.

"Kiss." He offers in explanation, 'Kiss it better."

"I am not going to-" You begin, rage evident in your voice. Then you glance back up at his eyes, filled with new tears.

It's a staring contest for a moment, but you break first. You hunch, bracing yourself for the most humiliating thing you've ever had to do when you pucker your lips and press them into his bicep.

It's firm. Fuck, you wish it wasn't, it holds up under your lips and warms them. It's intoxicating, your lips on his skin, so close to his chest. It's exhilarating. You have to get away.

"There." You grouse, practically glaring at him despite the blush at your cheeks as you straighten, "Better?"

"Yes," He whimpers, and it's small, broken, pathetic, "Thank you."

You shut the door without another word, letting him wipe his own tears.

His car is surprisingly nice. Where you'd expect fast food wrappers and condoms, you find an air freshener.

He grabs it excitedly, shoving it into your face as you start down the road, "Darlin' you gotta- gotta smell! It smells like ocean breeze."

It slips over your eyes and you strain to get away from it, "Okay, Hangman, okay! It smells very nice," You gush, giving him the attention he's seeking. He preens proudly as he hooks it around his mirror once more, but he doesn't settle into his seat.

"Those are cool jeans," He prods a finger at your thigh, and even though you know it's drunken rather than lustful, his touch makes you shiver.

"They were five dollars," You humor him, feeling him fiddle carefully with the ripped strands of fraying string showcasing your skin.

"Cheap." He murmurs, concentration far too heavy on rearranging the strings. Half of them have ripped beyond repair from where they were stretched over your thigh, but he seems to be playing with them like they're yarn to a housecat. You have the sudden urge to run a hand through his hair and see if he purrs.

"My house is that way," Jake points blearily through the windshield down a one-way street, "It's the big blue one."

"You live in an apartment," You turn the wheel in the opposite direction, "And it's not blue, and it's not that way."

"Oh so you-" He hiccups, "-know where I live?"

"I do," You nod, keeping your eyes on the road even when his fingers keep pawing at your jeans, "I've been there before. Remember? We had a movie night."

"Oh yeah," He nods, brow furrowed, "Payback spilled his water on my carpet."

"Not water," You snort, remembering the cheap liquor spilled over the shag, "But yeah, he did."

There's a bout of silence that follows your words, shadows ripping through the car as you pass beneath trees. The road is paved unevenly in a few spots, and Jake's car bounces on its tires.

"Woah," He grumbles, head bumping your shoulder after a particularly raucous pothole, "Look! Look they're in a- a heart."

You slow to a stop in front of his apartment and glance down to where his finger is digging into your thigh. The loose strings on your jeans have all been twisted and tied into a heart that overlays the rip, puffy and frayed where it rests against your leg.

"Oh," You let the sincerity of the gesture steal the breath from your lungs, even if it does come out of a drunk man, "That's pretty, Hangman. Thanks."

You unlatch your seatbelt, breaking his trance. The heart, tied at the bottom and woven through other strands at its apexes, stays tightly knotted into your jeans, and you wonder if you'll ever be able to get it out. It's the last of your concerns, though, as Jake fumbles with his own seatbelt.

He finally jabs just right at the button, though it's after a string of mumbled frustrations. You swear you hear something along the lines of "You're pretty." thrown into the mix, but you choose to ignore it so that your hands don't get sweaty. You probably misheard.

It's a wonder that he's able to get himself out of the car. He lands with a crunch of gravel onto the driveway of his apartment, feet planted firmly beneath him. You suppose he might have sobered slightly during the long, quiet drive, and you're just glad you don't have to press him to yourself anymore to keep him upright.

Thankfully, he knows which door is his, but he forgets that you have his keys. You keep a hand stuffed into your pocket, curled around them, while he fumbles in his pocket for them.

“Damn,” He hisses, patting his pockets and coming up empty, “My- my keys are gone. I think someone took them, we have to-”

“I have your keys,” You’re far too smug as you hold them up, the ring hooked over your middle finger, “Remember? That’s why I drove?”

“Oh.” His brows furrow, and the word adorable flashes through your head before you can stop it. As soon as you acknowledge it, though, it’s gone in a puff of smoke.

“I’ll do it.” You carefully shoo his hands away from the door, slipping the key in and turning it. His apartment is neat, you’ll give him that, but you suppose it’s because he doesn’t have time to mess it up. You toe off your shoes in the doorway, leaving them in a heap which he contributes to. His boots are going to muck up your white wedges, but you can’t care about that right now. What’s more important is making sure Hangman doesn’t head straight for his own liquor stash, which of course, he does.

“No,” You rush for the bottle he’s about to grab, “You’re cut off for the night. Remember?”

“No,” His brow furrows, and he stares at your fingers wrapped around his own against the neck of the bottle, “I don’t.”

At least you know he’s being honest. You pry his hand off of the bottle, setting it back on the counter and letting go of his fingers. You expect them to drop but they don’t, they curl around your own and slot your palms together.

You stiffen but he doesn’t seem to notice, his hand still enveloping yours in a gesture that sends heat rushing up from your fingertips and straight to your heart. You glance down first, then up at him, finding a gooey, lovesick smile on his face paired with empty eyes.

“Hi, darlin’.” He gushes, and squeezes your hand.

Fuck.

“Okay, bedtime.” You decide, trying to pry your hand out of his grip. He won’t let you, though, the more you pull the closer he gets. Until he’s pressed to you, his right thigh to your left, chest-to-chest, smiling contently at you. 

If you can’t make him let go, you suppose you can move. So you do, you lead him through the short hallway, and flick the light on in his bedroom. His room is.. less neat. There’s clothes on the floor, and what looks dangerously like an old pizza box sticking out from under the bed. You decide to ignore it for time’s sake, your main goal is to get Jake into bed before he tips over.

He looks close to it now, stumbling towards his nightstand to snatch a necklace off of it. It’s a delicate silver chain, and there’s a pretty heart pendant on it.

“Look,” He shows it off, “‘S my mom’s. She gave it to me before I came down here.”

“That’s very sweet,” You croon, and all of a sudden you want to know more about Mama Seresin, “I think I’d like to see you wear that someday, Hangman.”

“That’d look silly.” He muses, eyes shiny as they rove over the charm, finally putting it down to look back at you, “But if you’d really like it I’ll do it.”

You suppose that if anything comes out of his drunken stupor, it’ll be a hell of a lot of blackmail material. Apparently he’s blabby when drunk, and you’ll definitely ask why he’s not wearing his mom’s necklace tomorrow when you meet for breakfast.

“Okay, Jake, let’s get you changed.” You hum, glancing around his room and peering apprehensively at his dresser. You turn back, intent on asking him which drawers you should avoid opening, and are met with-

“Jake! Put- put your pants back on!”

Your hands fly to your eyes to shield yourself from the sight of Jake Seresin’s Uncovered Crotch, but you forget that he’s still clinging tight to you, and he stumbles along with you. All you can do is let out a strangled cry as his outer thigh presses against yours, praying nothing else will.

“Put your boxers back on,” You beg, “And- and get into pajamas! Oh my god.”

“Yeah,” Jake giggles, far too inebriated to read the room, “That’s what they all say.”

“I hate you,” You groan, and finally, he lets go of your hand.

There’s absolute silence for too long, but just before you can urge him to hurry up and get dressed, he speaks.

“You do?”

HIs voice is unlike you’ve ever heard it. Jake has a particular talent for boasting, and his voice often bleeds confidence, loud and strong and clear. Now it’s small, unsure and weak.

“Get dressed,” You huff, “With pants, please.”

You’re not eager to admit it, but you don’t hate him. Not at all. Sure, he annoys you, but he annoys everyone. He shoves confetti through the slats in your locker so that opening it triggers a snowstorm, he steals food from your plate when his own is nearly full, and he always, always knocks his knuckles against your helmet. But he’s never mean, he’s never insulted you or pushed you or demeaned you. So you can’t find it in yourself to hate him, even if you don’t always like him.

Or maybe you do. Maybe you bite back a smile when you find confetti on the ground, and maybe you bend over with your back to him just in case he likes what he sees. Maybe you steal his food right back, and maybe the best part of your day is when you make it a competition, and he practically crawls over Fanboy to try to nab a piece of your orange chicken. Maybe the rapping of his knuckles on your helmet makes you want to respond by bumping it against his chest, an urge you’ve never dared to act on.

Feigning hatred is much easier, you’ve found, than admitting love.

His voice cuts through your thoughts, still devoid of its usual enthusiasm, “I’m dressed.”

You let your hands fall to your sides with a relieved sigh, and though your vision is somewhat bleary from being covered for so long, you work with it, blinking until you can see his form, already under the covers on his bed and facing away from you.

“Okay,” You hum awkwardly, glancing around the room, “You’re gonna need medicine in the morning. And water, so-”

“Pills are in the bathroom cabinet, there’s a cup on the counter.” He drawls, voice muffled by his pillow.

You bustle off to gather those, and when you reenter his bedroom you find him staring at the wall. It’s a sad expression, an empty one, but you suppose that’s what binge drinking does to a man.

“I’m gonna head out,” You speak to his back, setting the pills and glass down on his nightstand, “Are you.. gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” He hums, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” You mumble, more than ready to flee the awkward scene, “Bye, Jake.”

“Do you really hate me?”

You freeze in the doorway, heart thudding in your chest. You turn slow, your eyes meeting Jake’s before your body faces him, giving you enough time to figure out a response.

“No,” You speak carefully, “I- I was just teasing, Jake. I don’t hate you.”

“You’re sure?” He peers up anxiously at you, looking more like a scared child than a naval aviator, “You really don’t?”

“I’m sure,” You nod, gracing him with a soft smile to soothe his nerves, “I don’t hate you, Jake.” “Okay,” He breathes, his frown flattening out into a neutral expression as his eyes drink you in, “Thanks, Y/N. For taking care of me.”

“Anytime,” You promise, and you mean it more than you’ll let on, “Get some rest, Jake, we’re meeting for breakfast at nine tomorrow.”

He nods, and that’s your cue to leave. Your shoes are still by the door, and you slip them on, fiddling with the straps. When you straighten up from where you’d hunched over you spot Jake’s keys where you’d left them on his entryway table, and realize he won’t know where they are in the morning. You don’t want him to panic, so you scoop them up, knowing that his door auto-locks behind him as a part of the apartment’s security features. You’ll be able to leave without the keys, and he won’t be at risk overnight.

You pad quietly back into his room, intent on setting the keys by the glass of water and leaving. But you realize that he’s already asleep, the magic of booze eliciting soft, even breaths from him that ricochet off of the pillow he’s smushed against and blow his hair back. You stifle a giggle at the sight, and pride yourself for how much self control it takes not to record it.

You set the keys down, and your heel catches on the pizza box beneath his bed. Your nose wrinkles, and you decide there’s no good reason for Jake to be keeping old food under his bed, of all places.

You pick it up and it feels nearly empty, prompting confusion on your part. Pizza is not weightless. 

Maybe you should, maybe you shouldn’t, but you decide to flip the lid open. You brace the box on his nightstand and pop the top, your eyes landing on a collection of memorabilia inside, not cheese and bread.

You recognize a chubby baby as Jake himself, a slightly aged photo that looks delicate. You bite back a soft smile, but decide that his baby pictures are none of your business, fingers ghosting over the lid to shut it once more now that you know he’s not hoarding Papa John’s beneath his mattress.

Just before the lid closes, your heart stops. Your eyes catch a picture of just about the last face you’d ever expect to see in a pizza box under Jake Seresin’s bed: your own. It’s a picture of you talking to Payback, eyes shut and crinkled at the corners, mouth open in a laugh you’re sure was less-than-graceful at whatever the other aviator had said. You pick the photo up, pushing away a jewelry box that’s lying on top of its corner, and finding dozens more of your squadron beneath it. There’s one flipped on its front, and Jake’s scrawled sharpie over it, ‘Rooster being dumb. 6-07-2022.’

Upon inspection, the photo is of Bradley making a fool of himself. He’s halfway to the ground, foot caught in the sand as he topples over. You remember that day, you’d all laughed when he’d emerged with a mustache-full of sand.

You flip the photo of yourself, brows furrowing when the description is less-than-understandable.

‘Third time. 5-03-2021.’

Third time.. Third time you’d… laughed at Payback’s jokes? Definitely not, he’s quick on his toes and surprisingly witty.

Thumbing through each photo of you and your friends, the descriptions are all simple. ‘Natasha losing a bet’ showcases her rare defeated look, and of course Jake would have that documented. ‘Fanboy exhaling lemonade’ is self-explanatory, the substance shooting out of his nose in response to the Bradley-Sand-Mustache incident. The only ones you can’t figure out are your own, ‘First time. 4-25-2020’, ‘Second time. 10-10-2020’, and even, ‘Relapse. 9-14-2022;.

For the life of you, you can’t figure them out. You realize that you’ve been sifting through Hangman’s personal possessions far longer than you should have been, stuffing them all back inside the pizza box and sliding it beneath his bed. Something strange and confusing clouds your brain as you make your way to the front door, and you barely remember to listen for the click of the automatic lock when you leave.

Your apartment isn’t far from Jake’s, it’s only a few streets down, and you’d hitched a ride with Omaha to the Hard Deck anyways. You won’t make him pick you up to drive you three blocks.

There’s something infuriating about knowing that Jake writes about you in code. It’s like a mental game, and you’re losing. You ponder it all the way back to your apartment, and you dig your own keys out of your pocket to get yourself inside.

Your determination to figure Jake’s code out only transforms into insomnia, and you fall asleep at nearly three in the morning, alarms set for five hours ahead, wondering if you’ll ever find out what they mean.

--

Surprisingly, for how you’d left him last night, Jake is the first one to show up to Team Breakfast. Your typical spot at the local cafe is inhabited by none other than Hangman, checking his watch to see how late everyone was running so far.

“You’re here early,” You marvel, and his head shoots up to meet your gaze. He grins sheepishly, nodding, “I had too much of a headache to go back to sleep.”

“Oooh,” You laugh, “Tough luck.”

“Yeah. Reckon’ I drank a lot last night?” He asks, already grimacing in expectation of your response. 

You take a particular pleasure in nodding, “You tried kissing Bradley.”

He hadn’t, at least, not on this particular occasion. Rooster has gotten his fair share of Drunk Hangman Love, as have you all, but this time he’d stayed away from anything too intimate.

“Shit,” Hangman grimaces, screwing his eyes up and plunking his chin to his chest, “I thought you said Bob was gonna start watching out for that?”

“He did,” You snort, “He saw it about to happen, and left before you could do it to him. He watched out for himself.”

Jake mumbles something, probably along the lines of ‘typical’, but it’s as he raises his head again, and the glint of something silver at his neck catches your eye. You squint, hard, glimpsing a familiar heart-shaped pendant pressed to his chest and outlined beneath his shirt.

“Oh my god,” You laugh, “The necklace! You’re really wearing it.”

He bites back a smirk and fits his lips to the rim of his water glass instead, “I told you I’d wear it. I’m no chicken.”

“Send a picture to your mom,” You suggest, “Tell her you’ve got her heart with you.”

His smile dims, something apprehensive in his eyes.

“You went through the box under my bed last night, didn’t you?”

You still at the question, your eyes wide, “What?”

“I heard you,” He admits, “I’m- I’m not mad, or anything. I just.. I know you did.”

“I’m sorry,” Even if he’s not upset, you feel awkward, like a kid caught elbow-deep in the cookie jar, “It was none of my business, I shouldn’t have-”

“No,” He shakes his head, reaching back for the clasp on the necklace, “It was your business. Is, if..” He hesitates, face screwed up in concentration.

“Y/N,” He finally continues, necklace now pinched between his fingers, “This isn’t my mom’s.”

“Oh?” You pry cautiously, “Who’s is it, then?”

“Yours.” He admits, and your brows furrow.

“It’s not mine, I’ve never had one like that. I- I guess someone must have left it at your apartment or something, maybe Phoenix?”

“No,” He sighs, eyes screwed shut, “I mean- I mean I bought it for you.”

“You,, you bought that necklace.. for me?”

“Yeah,” He nods, “Did you see the box in there?”

You nod, recalling the teal case.

“I bought it for you for your birthday last year. Chickened out before I could give it to you, though. That’s why I had to give you half a bottle of whiskey.”

His lackluster birthday present made a lot more sense now.

“I know you saw the pictures I’ve got of you,” He continues, keeping his eyes on the pendant of the necklace that he’s pressing against his thumb, “I just thought.. I’d get everything off my chest.”

“First time..” You recall, and he raises his eyes to you questioningly.

“The pictures of me,” You prompt him, “On the back, you had little.. notes? Captions? Whatever, they said first time, second time, third time, relapse. What did those mean?”

He stares at you, the prolonged eye contact making you squirm.

“You sure you don’t hate me?” He asks, just as timid as he had the night before.

“Jake- of course I don’t hate you!” You promise, “Just- tell me, please?”

“They’re every time I fell in love with you.” He murmurs, and your entire world stops spinning. You’ve built it carefully on a foundation of Jake-directed sarcasm and a healthy distance away from your fellow aviator, and when the word ‘love’ slips from his lips the foundation crumbles. You feel everything collapse, every witty comeback, every dramatic eye-roll, every logical pushback. Nothing remains, except love. The word, the feeling, the sound of it coming from his mouth. 

Apparently the demolition of your entire world takes too much time. Jake cringes, tucking the necklace into his fist and going to pocket it, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- fuck, I should have just shut my mouth. I won’t bring it up again, we can just forget this, and-”

“Stop,” You reach for his hand, covering his closed fist with your open palm, “Give me the necklace.”

He unfurls his hand, slowly, unsurely. His eyes linger on you, and he watches as you carefully scoop the jewelry from his palm, your fingers delicately brushing over the heart.

“You really love me?” You verify, keeping your eyes on the silver charm so that if this is some sick joke, you won’t see him break the facade. You won’t see the adoration in his eyes turn to mockery, the love to hatred.

“I really do,” He promises, “And I know that I’m not the best at communicating that…”

“What with the constant teasing and badgering?” You glance up at him for the first time since his confession, your view of his face obscured by your lashes.

“Yeah,” He grimaces, “That.”

“Can I be honest with you, Jake?” You bite the inside of your cheek, regretting admitting what you’re about to say before you’ve even said it.

“Yeah,” He breathes, and you think he expects the worst.

“I kind of like it,” You admit, and his frown breaks. 

“I knew it,” He gloats, his grin wide and bright, “I knew there was a reason you never say anywhere I couldn’t steal your food.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You groan, closing your fist around the necklace, “I haven’t responded to your confession yet, have I, Seresin? Don’t get too cocky.”

As much as you’re teasing him, he takes it seriously. His grin dims, and his eyes soften, worry pooling in his irises.

“I..” You start, eyes on the heart that still lies in the rips of your jeans instead of his own gaze, “I love you, too.”

“You do?” You think you’re starting to like his voice when it’s not brash and cocky, instead sincere and a little timid.

“I do,” You nod, glancing back up at him, “And.. I don’t really know what to do about that. I tried to ignore it, because we work together, and because I wasn’t sure you liked me back, but.. I do love you, Jake.”

“That,” He smiles, real and genuine, “Is something I’ve wanted to hear you say for years, darlin;.”

“Well. you should thank your inebriated self last night,” You laugh, letting him take the necklace from your fist and unclasp it, “You’re very touchy when you’re drunk, and I may or may not have seen your penis.”

“That’s.. not something I remember.” Jake grimaces, pausing with the necklace open in his hands, “Was it.. I mean- did you.. like it?”

“Quit while you’re ahead,” You advise Jake, leaning forwards so that he can wrap his arms around your neck, “I’m not talking about your dick at brunch with our friends.”

“They’re not here yet,” He murmurs, and when you lock eyes, you take in the fact that he’s only inches from your face.

There’s a soft click as he clasps the necklace against the base of your hairline, then he drops it to your neck. The chain is cold, but Jake’s hands are warm where they smooth over your cheeks. You let your lashes flutter shut, lips already slightly puckered, waiting for the press of his own over them. You can’t be but a hair’s breadth away from kissing Jake when a shrill scream comes from the parking lot, and your eyes snap open with a start.

You turn, but he doesn’t release your face, instead pressing his cheek to yours as you both look for the culprit. It’s not Natasha you find with her hands clamped over her mouth, but Rooster, though the former is smirking.

“We carpooled,” She informs you, elbowing Bradley in the side, “We were only five minutes late, and you guys have already sucked face?”

“I gave her the necklace,” Hangman reaches over to show off the charm around your neck, “I, uh- asked for Phoenix’s help buying it. I didn’t know what you’d like.”

“Thanks,” You laugh sheepishly, though you’re not sure who you’re talking to. Maybe both of them, “Uh, is that Fanboy’s car?”

It is, tires crunching against spare bits of asphalt as he turns into the parking lot.

“Coyote’s in there, too,” Hangman groans, pulling back from where you’d been smushed together, “Let’s hope they didn’t see.”

“Oh, we’ll tell them,” Natasha promises, and her laugh can only be described as maniacal, “They each owe me $20, they thought she’d say no.”

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[ikamigami]

Wow why I'm not surprised with what Nexus was telling Sun... It's not like I was imagining all of these scenarios endless amount of time nooo...

And Sun still cares QwQ him screaming Moon a couple of times when Monty was shooting to Nexus was so gut-wrenching...

And yet I still think that Nexus cares cause why he didn't do more damage to Sun immediately to kidnap him...

And Ruin trying to keep Sun safe by trying to stop Nexus from going to Sun was really sweet QwQ

Poor Moon also.. cause he's terrified now..

And I'm glad that Monty helped and now everyone will be working on trying to keep Sun safe..

Also poor Sun he really tried to see Nexus as someone else.. but imo.. I really think that Sun really wanted to do better with Nexus so he won't be like Moon used to be.. and I really think that Sun blames himself for how Nexus is now.. and his "I'm sorry" was so heartbreaking QwQ

And pls Sun don't lie.. don't say that you're fine when you're not.. this is exactly what I was always referring to when I say that Sun keeps everything to himself.. he never says how he feels.. only that he's fine even when it's clearly not true...

I wish that I could write more about today's episode.. but my thoughts are all over the place rn..

[ivystoryweaver]

Jingle Bells

Summary: Santiago is a flirty cute dork and you can’t stop me

Pairing: Santiago Garcia from Triple Frontier x gn!reader

Word Count: 800

Content: fluff, mentions of Christmas songs (but story doesn’t indicate what Santiago or reader celebrate, if anything), not beta’d

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"That'll be $73.07," you mumble to your customer, waiting as she runs her credit card through the machine before handing her a receipt.

Twelve hours on the cash wrap at work, scanning grocery item after item, dealing with faulty coupons, the holiday rush and fussy customers. Your feet are sore and you're dying to get off your shift in thirty minutes.

You picked up back-to-back shifts to pay for a plumbing bill your landlord refused to cover.

"Plumbing is the responsibility of the tenant," he groused at you last week. "Read your lease."

Without even a glance, your hand reaches to scan the next customer's items.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Happy holidays," a soothing tenor voice greets you.

"Happy holida - " You trip over your monotonous reply when your eyes meet the most beautiful man you've ever seen in person.

Sparkling brown eyes dance underneath thick eyebrows, arched in playful curiosity. A sprinkling of gray dusts his dark curly hair.

"Hi," he greets you, chomping playfully on his gum, which draws attention to the curve of luscious, full lips and the sexy stubble on his chin.

"Good afternoon," you manage, reminding yourself to continue scanning his groceries.

"Afternoon?" He shoots back, nodding toward the darkened windows at the front of the store. "It's 9:15."

"Oh. Right," you sheepishly chuckle.

"Long day?" the handsome man genuinely questions.

Your first instinct is to shrug him off with the run-of-the-mill small talk that comes as naturally as breathing to you, as a cashier.

But something happens - a contradiction that has your heart tripping over itself.

His eyebrows shift curiously, like a puppy, while, at the same time, a smug smirk curls the corner of that mouth.

"Uhh, yes," you admit, pausing, "the longest."

"I'm sorry," he sincerely returns, reaching to swipe his next grocery item for you. "Must be busy this time of year."

"Oh, god...sorry," you stammer, reaching to finish up his order.

"'S okay," he shrugs one shoulder. "You gonna be able to get out of here soon?"

"Not soon enough," you joke. "If I hear 'Jingle Bells' one more time, I can't be held responsible for my actions."

"Hmm," he nods and then he sings, "Dashing through the snow in a one-horse open sleeeiigghh..."

"Nooo, please stop," you find yourself laughing. Out loud. When was the last time you laughed?

"Are you sure? Because I do all the hits. Siiiilent niiiight - "

"Oh my god," you giggle, "you have a terrible voice."

He pretends to be offended, "Is this how you treat all your customers?" The corners of his warm brown eyes crinkle with amusement, letting you know he's still teasing. "Because if you smile at everybody like that, you must be the best cashier in this place."

"Could you hurry it up?" A grouchy customer behind this gorgeous man interjects, almost bouncing on her toes.

And just like that, you're deflated. This is why you don't waste your time caring. No point, no time to truly connect. Everyone is in such a damn hurry, especially this time of year.

"Sorry," you mumble, flustered as you start to bag the man's groceries.

"Hi, I'm Santiago," he greets the grinch behind him. "And this is... " he glances back at you, reading off your name tag. "Been a long day. Just trying make 'em smile. I'll get out of your way."

He flashes a stunning, yet disarming smile and the woman falters.

"Oh. I-it's okay."

"Thanks," he nods, shifting his attention back to you.

You give him the total. “Hang in there,” he winks. “Bet this place would fall apart without you.”

He leaves you stupefied, but smiling.

You can’t even remember the last time someone showed kindness and warmth to you, a simple cashier - let alone made you laugh.

The remaining 27 minutes of your shift feel a little lighter.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

One week later…

Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Dashing through the snoooowww…”

Your eyes snap up to find Mr. Handsome next in your checkout line.

“This is gonna get awkward if you don’t remember me.” His dark eyebrows shoot up questioningly.

“Santiago…right?” Your cheeks feel warm as he flashes you that smile.

“Guilty,” he chuckles. “I really am dying to see what happens when ‘Jingle Bells’ pushes you over the edge.”

“Don’t try me,” you laugh, scanning his grocery items. "Nobody wants me to lose control in here."

"Maybe somewhere else then," he cooly suggests, with the cutest eyebrow wiggle. "Maybe a restaurant? Or a bar? We could grab a drink when you get off?"

Your mouth drops open. "That...was..."

"Pretty smooth, right?" He grins. "Yeah, I've found that singing off key holiday songs is the way to go."

You laugh for about the twentieth time since you met Santiago.

And you go for that drink.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

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[jujutsubaby]

after hours (part 2)

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader, toji fushiguru x afab!reader ☆ summary: you update your friends and they cannot believe what happened between you and toji. but one of you friends, satoru gojo, is acting weirder than usual...could it be? nooo, nooo, it can't...right? ☆ warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! dirty talk, implied power dynamic, sexual tension ☆ tags: modernAU, academiaAU ☆ a/n: sorry for the lack of smut but i swear it'll be worth in the next part 😈 but hope you enjoy the love triangle between toji, gojo, and y/n that's forming! spoiler alert: there miiiight be a potential three way coming soooon ~ ahaha i don't wanna say anything 🤭 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

"NO. FUCKIN'. WAY...", shoko gasps, jaw open, as you tell her about what happened last night with toji over a matcha latte with oatmilk. you take a sip, savoring the earthy, bitter beverage, and give shoko a serious look.

you, shoko, and your friends always grab beverages from cafe amanai every morning, serving as a meeting point for everyone's busy lives. usually, it's used to air out mild inconveniences, from poor grades to missing keys, but today, it is being used to dissect what the hell happened between you and toji last night, to your obvious dismay.

"yeah, and now i'm getting dinner with him and megumi and going to his parent teacher conference." you say, looking slightly distraught, as you contemplate the ramifications of hooking up with your extremely attractive neighbor. "was this a bad idea?"

"was what a bad idea?"

you and shoko whip around to find satoru gojo strolling to your table, wearing his signature black round glasses and unruly white hair. he glides down in the seat next to you, literally butting his head into the conversation.

you sigh deeply and slowly sink your head onto the table surface, knowing full well that once satoru gets up to speed, he's never going to shut up about it. "ohhhh satoru, don't make me say it again..." you whine.

"let's wait until suguru comes back from flirting with the barista to tell them. i don't wanna update them twice." shoko kindly offers, patting your head and softly running her fingers through your scalp.

your head shoots up the minute your hear about suguru flirting. according to satoru, suguru never drank coffee until the day riko complimented his bangs, and ever since then, suguru would do everything in his power to stop by cafe amanai and order a latte. in the process, you, shoko, and gojo got unbearably perplexed at the idea of the suguru geto, the hoity-toity moral compass of the group, having a crush, on not just anyone, but the cafe owner, and everyone's favorite barista: the gorgeous, raven-haired riko amanai. you all really try to be subtle, everyone craning their necks in unnatural directions, trying to decipher what embarrassingly awful one-liner suguru was going to say to riko instead of just asking her out.

"can you guys not embarrass me for just one day at this place? just one. it's all i'm asking for." suguru says sorely, popping out from the opposite direction of where you all were staring, startling everyone into mumbled apologies ("i wasn't even looking", "had to stretch my neck after benching 300", "i don't even care about you and riko").

"anyway, now tell us...what's the bad idea?" gojo prods, grinning at the excitement of restarting the gossip session. oh my god, why is he so nosy?

"i mean, okay, it's complicated so don't judge me and i really don't know how it happened but-" you start, before shoko cuts you off.

"y/n fucked our hot neighbor, toji. remember him? the one i was telling you about that probably is a gigolo-"

"shoko, he is NOT a gigolo! stop saying that about him!" you say irately. "he probably has...some respectable job that...is classified or...something", you defend, trying your hardest to defend toji in front of your friends. why were you so keen on defending this guy after one random hookup?

"the one who's son you BABYSIT for?!" suguru yells incredulously a bit too loudly, that results in your shooting daggers at him. "y/n, you have to know this is some fucked up power dynamic thing, right? he's paying you to babysit his son. there's no way what you're doing will end well." suguru chastises, scrunching his eyebrows in genuine concern.

"so about that..." you start, realizing just now how idiotic you're about to sound admitting that he has not paid you for the past week and decide to pivot. "it's just babysitting, suguru, okay? chill, it's not that serious."

"also, he hasn't paid her at all last week." shoko states nonchalantly. you give her a crestfallen look, wishing she had said quite literally anything but that.

satoru, who had been suspiciously silent up until now, roars in laughter hearing this, while suguru groans. "wait hold on. you're telling me people pay him to be a gigolo but you're giving him that pussy for free?" satoru says in between breaths, clearly finding your predicament more than amusing.

"i'm going to kill you guys." you say, rubbing your temples, already trying to remedy the headache at bay.

"poor y/n," shoko teases, "she's not ready to be a step-mom." she chuckles as you narrow your eyes at her. "kidding!" she smiles, with her hands up, feigning any remorse. everyone, including youself, start laughing lightly at the situation you're in, and you notice shoko's eyes widen with excitement and warmth as she sees utahime walk into cafe amanai. "utahime!" she waves, catching utahime's attention. utahime darts over to your table and plops next to shoko, and do something that shocks satoru and suguru to their core. aww, look, they're kissing! oh wait no, they're fully making out. oh, they should get a room.

"excuse me?!" gojo, who is so baffled by the sight in front of him that his sungalsses are completely off, says.

shoko and utahime break out of their short kiss, and utahime narrows her eyes at satoru as if he was a pest (you have to admit, he sometimes is), seemingly annoyed by his intrusion. "oh umm, this is utahime, as you guys know. um, she and i are dating. that's all." shoko taciturnly says. "anyway, we have to go, now." she turns to you. "i'll see you at home and you better tell us everything." you laugh and nod, standing up to give utahime a quick hug before they left.

you turn around to two stunned faces, as you explain to them that shoko and utahime had been dating for over a month now, and that they did not tell either of them because, well, they were both a bit obnoxious, especially together.

"just because you're right doesn't mean i'm any less shocked!" suguru says, eyes still wide and processing the fact that one of his best friends was dating someone and he had no clue. "okay, i actually don't even have time to process this right now. i have to make copies for the class i'm TA-ing for." suguru says, as he quickly throws his untouched cup of coffee into the trash and speeds out. "see ya." he waves before he speeds out of the cafe.

you sigh tiredly, knowing that whenever you're alone with satoru, things get...a bit weird. you guys are friends, of course, but you would be lying if you said you didn't feel the tension in the air abruptly change slightly when it was just you two. there were plenty of times when you went over to satoru's and played video games or drank beers like the old school friends you were, but it would always end veeery touchy feely (like the time you fell asleep with your head on his lap or that one time he said it would be a good idea to cuddle "for warmth" because the heat was broken).

but this was just because you guys were like, super super good friends, though...right? in any case, you knew for a fact you and satoru were not into each other because you both fooled around with other people, so case closed.

"so...how was it?" satoru asks, with a stupid grin on his face. you can sense he's about egg you on about something you did not want to talk about, but you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"how was what?" you say, shifting in your seat slightly and playing with your fingers. you take a sip of your lukewarm matcha as you turn to look at satoru.

"how was the sex with toji?" satoru clarifies. you almost choke on your matcha, but quickly regain your composure.

"wouldn't you like to know, lover boy." you say, slightly annoyed and yet bemused why satoru would even ask that question. ugh, why does he even care? can't he let this go? he was the one making fun of you the most about this anyway!

"woah, okay sorry for trying to make sure you at least had fun before you made a bad decision with some broke dude who doesn't have a real job." satoru says, raising his hands defeat and putting his sunglasses back, obscuring his bright blue eyes that always made you wish you could stare at them forever. wait, what?

"he allegedly doesn't have a job, okay. and also, being a gigolo, allegedly, is still a job." you say, once again baffling yourself as to why you're feeling so defensive of toji, especially more so in front of satoru. why is he being so weird about this? you've told him about guys you've slept with before and he barely even cared.

"what are we? in court?" he snorts, shaking his head slightly in amusement.

"why do you care?" you accuse, finishing up the last sips of your matcha before setting the cup down and anxiously playing with your fingers.

"i don't care...i just..." satoru trails off, as if thinking about what he wants to say next carefully. "i just wanna make sure he's treating you well, that's all."

"well, if you must know, we didn't have sex." you respond, your heart beating a bit faster as you're borderline talking about raunchy activities in public.

"whadcha guys do?," satoru asks shamelessly.

at this point, you're so over satoru's bullshit. "he ate me out okay! what other personal stuff do you want to know about me? how would you feel if i asked you how many times a day you jerk off, huh? not so amusing now is it?!"

"did you cum?" he asks. his smile is beaming and he's holding back a chuckle, as he enjoys seeing you getting all riled up because of him. he knows he's pushing your buttons, but he just can't stop. it's too fun. and you look too cute when you're angry at him.

"you're so fucking unbelievable!" you spit, as you abruptly get up and grab you empty cup of matcha and your bag, heading towards the exit. entering the bustling city, you see satoru catching up to you in your peripheral and walk even faster to the crosswalk, but not fast enough. satoru catches up from behind easily and places his hands on your shoulder, as you whip around and give him a death glare.

"what do you want?!" you ask irately.

"umm...i'm your ride to class, remember?" satoru says sheepishly, flashing you a grin.

could this get any worse? you roll your eyes. he is correct, and technically you could take the bus but it'll make you too late for your class, and walking is just out of the question. you sigh in annoyance. "where's your car?"

the walk to satoru's porche is short, but within that time, you both manage to make up as you always do. such is the waves your guys' relationship rides: daunting when it happens, but calm once the storm passes over. by the time you're at satoru's car, you both are laughing hysterically.

"fuck off! no way suguru said that to riko!" you exclaim, responding to satoru telling you that suguru responded to riko's "good morning" with the biography of his barber who cuts his bangs.

"his ass folds so easily when it comes to his bangs," satoru says as he turns on the ignition and starts driving. satoru thinks about the first time he met suguru and how they got into a minor argument because his bangs were the first thing satoru noticed. satoru's mind wanders, and he thinks about the first thing he noticed about you: your smile and laughter. the way you tuck your hair behind your ears whenever you get anxious, the way you play with the ends of your hair when you're flirting and you think you're being subtle, the way your nose scrunches when you're concentrating deeply, and especially the way you, without fail, always fall asleep leaning against him during movie nights.

"hey, y/n," satoru starts softly, "you busy tonight? thinkin' we study for our final next week and maybe watch a movie. have you watched saltburn yet?"

"ohmygod i haven't but i really want to!" you say excitedly, thinking about how shoko has been begging you to watch that movie since it came out. wait, parent teacher night. you frown. "oh wait actually, i'm not free tonight, but let's do tomorrow?" you offer sweetly, praying satoru for once is not nosy enough to ask what you're doing instead tonight.

"whatcha doing instead tonight?" he asks without skipping a beat.

"...i'm babysitting tonight." it's not use lying at this point, but you know it's embarrassing to say you're getting dinner with his son and going to a parent teacher conference.

"oh right, the thing you do for free now", satoru says, rolling his eyes. he could egg you on and press your buttons again. he hasn't decided if he will again just yet.

you decide to change the subject, not wanting to start yet another argument with him. "anyway, you wanna head to the barcade tomorrow before the theater to get drinks and hang? i think shoko and utahime are coming and they said something about inviting suguru, too" you ask, knowing full well what his answer will be.

"how could you fucking ask me that? how could you ask me if i want to go to the only barcade in this city after what fucking happened to me the last time i went there?!" he accuses you. you sense the irateness of his voice, knowing full well this is how he gets whenever you bring up the local barcade with him.

basically, earlier this summer, the four of you went to the flashing new barcade that opened downtown, thinking you would all have a couple drinks and play some arcade games. according to satoru -- you and shoko were, at the time, dry heaving in the bathroom from one too many AMFs (satoru's idea) -- some guy came in with his kid (you still didn't really believe this part because how was a kid allowed in a bar?) and not only "bullied satoru" (satoru's words), but also made off with his drink and tickets. you still aren't really sure what the big deal is, but you find it funny, nontheless, seeing satoru still get sour about that barcade.

"geez, sorry, i didn't know you were still upset about it." you say, raising your hands and eyebrows in defeat.

"i literally talk about it once a day in the group chat. i was finally gonna get you that jigglypuff plushie you always wanted with those tickets!" satoru confesses, and you almost feel a bit bad for him. almost.

"well, you can try again tomorrow night then", you wink, before satoru pulls up in front of the building where your class is. you hear satoru humph in defeat, and you know you'll see him tomorrow night at the barcade. you thank satoru for the ride, but right before you close the door, he calls out your name.

"hey y/n also, sorry 'bout earlier at the cafe.", he says (he doesn't sound sorry at all, you think. this is definitely a ruse to say something stupid), "but i needed to tell you something before you left. the answer is two but if i'm bored, probably three."

you stare at him blankly. what was he on about? "what?" you say, perplexed.

"it's how many times i jerk off in a day. just thought i should let you know since you asked," he says, with a cheeky smile on his face. cue something stupid! bingo!

"bye satoru." you say immediately, closing the door of his porch and crossing the street. god, satoru was one of the most annoying people you knew. why does your face feel so hot?

you try really hard not to think about what satoru just said, knowing he was just being his usual cheeky self. satoru touches himself twice a day? when does he do it? in the morning? who does he think of? does he think of you? what the fuck, y/n -- think about something else? remember you came all over toji's face?

woah, okay. that was a lot, even for you. you have no idea where that thought came from, and you're pretending like it never happened. you're pretending like your panties aren't getting damp thinking about satoru's flushed face and his large fingers reaching down and grasping his hard, veiny -

your thoughts are interrupted by a text on your phone:

toji: see ya soon, pumpkin. wear somethin' nice for me, yeah? ;)

[mscordonean]

MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE

You're new photo shoot was a success in the papers! Guys around the world are loving the new magazine! Kento:... Oop! Looks like someone's jealous! Kento:.... And that's my que to leave y'all, enjoy!

"No no nooo" Kento's secretary panics after checking the official social media page of the company. "What's wrong Mr. Secretary" you say getting his handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the sweat off his forehead. "Don't do that Mr. Nanami will kill me 2x!!!". "Okay now I'm really curious, spill it out!". "I posted a picture of you to the platform that Mr. Nanami specifically told me not to! I must have been half asleeppp". The man sobs as if his life was about to end. "Let me see what picture you posted" you grab his phone and see the picture. Oh this was bad, Kenny was gonna kill him! "This is the one Ken jerked off to!". The Secretary stares and you for a moment and you realised you might have overshared just a little bit. "Well other men are probably doing that to this pic aswell!" "Well then just delete it!" "I can't the press are gonna mark that down in history and the company will be at risk!" Suddenly you two hear a deep voice call out to you guys.

"Is anything the matter Mr. John and my lovely Wife?" You react to quickly, clinging onto Mr. John's arm. 'I'm going to get fired!' Mr. John thinks pulling you off him. "We were just talking about my next photo shoot honey, why don't you go out side to get some fresh air". You chuckle nervously while holding onto his arm and leading him out. "Wait a minute I'm not an old man i can go myself!". You and Mr. John stare at him. "I mean thank you for the offer honey, come by my office later". He pecks you on the lips and leaves. "WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO". You and Mr. John scream together. "just leave it for now, if you don't make it obvious maybe he won't check!" You praise yourself with a pat on the back. "You're right!, I'll be going then miss" Mr. John sighs in relief , "Bye Mr. John!"

A few hours later...

You are scrolling on your phone, waiting for your next photo shoot in an hour when a next pops up on your screen.

You make your way up to Kento's office not thinking about the consequences of your actions. You open the door to see Kento staring at his phone. "Ken?" He looks up at you. "Did you ask Mr. John to put these pictures up?" He looks tired, worn out even. "no no it wasn't on purpose, Mr. John accidentally-" Kento gets annoyed. "so he did this". "Not only that but he allowed these disrespectful boys say things about you". You look at his phone and see the "she wants me frrr" and "i wish i was that lollipop" comments and laugh. "I get that all the time Kenny and your only just seeing it?" He glares at you. "Don't be jealous Ken, I only want you frrr" you sit on his lap and pull his tie towards you for a kiss. He kisses you for longer when his phone pings. It's another comment saying "Mr. Nanami better watch out before i steal his girl😮‍💨".

Kento "I'm firing Mr. John"

Yn "nooo he didn't mean to post itt"