#not a single thought had ever gone through that boy's head

[aikuwrld]

barou considers himself a man with patience— most of the time. he tries. he really does. he’s been practicing especially hard for you. barou also considers himself a realistic man— again, most of the time. what was he expecting? no, really, what exactly was he expecting when he had chosen to dorm with four other boys who seemed to foolishly believe that hygiene was a foreign, irrelevant, rather tedious concept? four boys whose spare time “bonding” was spent talking about their hook-ups with hot girls or debating how “glam” or “unglam” another team’s play was. and don’t even get him started on how they asserted their dominance through burping contests held almost every single day— how could a king end up with such misfortune?

of course he was the only one cleaning up after four boys who treated their dorms like nothing but a pigsty. sendou’s sweaty socks sprawled all over the floor after practice or a match when the laundry bin was not even three feet away, aiku’s spicy ramen packets still filled with powder littering the kitchen counter, niko’s skin care creams and manga abandoned on the bed and on the floor alike, and good god… was that… aryu’s strands of long hair all over the tub? it looked like something straight out of a horror movie. a plugged in hairdryer dangerously close to the sink— oh, he could gag… a man can only hold himself back for so long.

barou’s throat was nearly raw after yelling at everyone to tidy up after themselves at least a little before he’d start deep-cleaning the dorms for the day. it was a free day for everyone in the blue lock building which meant he’d finally have this dorm to himself. and he was going to spend it cleaning. that meant everyone had to leave. no exceptions. his head pounding so hard, so viciously, that he considered for a fleeting moment that strangling his teammates to death once they all came back from their day off and proceeding to bashing his head in after would be the smartest way out than dealing with another mess three seconds in after all his hard work.

oh, but then there you are when he opens the dorm door after finally finishing up the last bit of cleaning for the day. the weariness racking his body disappearing while he leans against the door frame to look down at you, squeezing his broom tightly in what he firmly believes must be ‘cuteness aggression’ at the sight of your beaming, bright smile and your arms held out wide for a hug. and was that a basket of snacks for him in your hands? god, how could barou resist?

“hey, princess…” barou sighs out in a low voice, a small smile forming on his usually stoic face. a smile meant just for you.

without a second thought, almost as if it were second nature, barou props the broom against the wall before pulling you close to him. it must’ve been the longest hug he’d ever given you in your years together. not that you’d ever complain about that though. his tense, weary muscles relaxing as the smell of your shampoo dulls his senses. his eyes flutter shut while he presses gentle kisses on your shoulder, murmuring softly about how much he loved you and missed you.

he doesn’t waste any time at all to indulge in you, after all, he’d managed to finish cleaning up after ruthless animals, he was more than deserving of this— of you. barou keeps your warm body tucked in between his legs, back pressed against his chest with one hand on your waist, the other pushing back your hair to kiss at the nape of your neck while you tell him about his sisters that you’ve taken care of while he’s gone. how life is back at akita. how much you’ve missed him.

barou was taken aback when you suddenly pull away from him, a pang of disappointment hitting him before you’re telling him to move up. the mattress dipping from the weight of your knees as you crawl behind him, running your hands down the expanse of muscles as you pull him back a little.

“where are you going? come here, i wasn’t finished kis—”

“relax, sho. let me do your hair.” you giggle out, his eyebrows that were once furrowed suddenly washed away with a look of surprise.

barou melts in your arms seconds later, his worries dissolving while you tangle your nimble fingers through his soft hair. a groan leaving his lips while he shifts back comfortably, careful not to put so much weight against you. for someone who styled his hair with gel so often, it never failed to impress you just how soft and luscious it was. the red streaks— now a little dull from the constant washing still looked so good, you had to remind yourself to thank aiku some time for recommending it to your stubborn boyfriend in the first place.

“mm.. definitely needed this… thank you, baby..”

he groans out while you comb through the silky, smooth hair, the familiar scent of his shampoo and hair oil hitting your nostrils. barou was always adamant on using white musk oil after shampooing. it was his signature smell. it was the one step that really brought his routine together.

as your fingers glide through the lush strands, you marvel and coo at the softness, how long it seems to have gotten over the time he’s been gone. you let the strands cascade through your fingers while you appreciate just how his hair, usually disciplined and controlled like the man himself was on the field, was soft and loose— like this secret side of him. a secret side the king only gave you the privilege to see.

barou forgot about his stresses, about the grueling matches, the relentless practices he had, how the therapeutic hours he spent cleaning the dorm would be undone in half the time. around you, he didn’t have to worry about anything else. none of it mattered. you were always so good to him. so ready to love him and care for him. how could barou ask for more? the trust he had for you— the vulnerability to see him in such a relaxed state was for your eyes only. he wouldn’t have it any other way.

he’d lost. niou lost and all he felt was frustration. anger. disappointment. how could he have lost? his defense was outstanding. he’d sacrificed his usual hours at boxing practice to get it right. spent countless hours with aiku and darai to sharpen his skills. yet the hardest pill to swallow, the thing he couldn’t wrap his mind around was how could he have lost in front of you? his pretty baby. you were so proud of him. you’d given him the biggest kiss, cupping his face and telling him how well he’d play.

he looked up at the first half of the game and there you were. all dolled up in his jersey, showing off his name and number like a badge of honor, the brightest smile on your face. and all he could think about was how he could anticipate nagi’s next move and whether you’d prefer a wedding ring with vintage or modern style twist. his sweet angel in the front rows, best seat. and then he’d blinked, and before he knew it, he lost. and god. he was ashamed of himself.

he looked up while everyone lined up to bow at the end of the game to the crowd and noticed that your seat was empty. the weight of his loss only seemed to become heavier. niou had let not only his team down, but he had let you down too. it gnawed so mercilessly at him that while everyone clapped each other on the back and grumbled about dissecting the tactics used by the blue lock team to play better in the locker room, the usually boisterous and proud man stayed silent.

he stayed by the corner, slumped over a bench with heavy arms resting on his knees and a towel draped over his damp hair that covered the view of his face. the weight of everything slowly pressing down onto him at an unforgiving force; crushing him into place. he was ashamed to face anyone, least of all his damn self.

“hey, good defense back there, niou. you… you did good, alright?”

his captain’s gruff and unusually gentle voice breaking through the heavy air followed by a firm slap on his broad back that jolted him forward. niou grunted out a hollow ‘thanks’ in response.

it isn’t long before the chatter in the locker room dies out and empties. aiku was the last to leave, eyes never leaving niou as he looks back at his teammate with a sigh. he knew niou needed space. it was rare for the doberman to look so... defeated.

as the heavy door clicked into place and the footsteps faded off, niou steeped in the demeaning silence. the muffled drip of water from the shower heads blending in with the water droplets beading down his wet hair and hitting the tile floor. each rhythmic plop of water sounding heavier than the last. he swallow thickly, clenching his fists tightly until they were white, thumbs digging into the flesh of his palm.

he doesn’t lift his head when the door creaks opens again, assuming it’s most likely aiku back to coax him into grabbing a drink to swallow away all his sorrows or another one of his teammates who might’ve forgotten something in the locker room. it wasn’t until he heard it— his ears perked up at the familiar, light sound of footsteps. and when your voice cuts through the silence, his head shoots up, the towel on his head slipping off.

“kazuma? baby, what are you still doing here? i was in the back waiting for you to come out and— kazuma, you’re going to catch a cold, oh, your hair’s still wet and—“

he looks away; the shame twisting and pulling at his chest. how could he look you in the eyes after failing you with that sorry excuse of a performance? you must’ve been disappointed to call him yours, to wear his name on your back. you must’ve been embarrassed walking back to get to the locker rooms having to endure the pitying glances of everyone, you must’ve—

“kazuma, look at me.”

your voice is still soft as ever just firm and as tough as nails. it popped right through his bubble of self-loathing he’d grown comfortable suffocating in for the past hour. he knew better than to ignore you. he didn’t want to. even if he was disappointed in himself. he glances up at you with uneasy eyes, breaking contact to bend down to pick up the damp towel stalling for time to try to collect himself in some way before meeting your eyes again.

“i…”

niou starts, his mouth going dry as he swallows hard. trying his best to piece together what he so desperately wanted to say. niou sure as hell wasn’t a man who made excuses. he owned up to his shit. but, right now? right now, he was blanking out, hair uncomfortably soaked and slouched over like a loser trying to own up to something— a failure he never really expected in the first place in front of his lover.

“i’m sorry, baby. i don’t… you wore my jersey out there. proud as hell, cheerin’ for me and i couldn’t even give you a win. i just don’t understand… i worked ass off for this. and i still… i let everyone down, i…”

niou doesn’t know what else to say, his voice dying down again and fading off into the silence again. he drops his heavy head once more, damp hair falling forward and slipping off his shoulders. his heart shattering as his own words seemed to have hit him like a bullet. it was unforgiving and sharp, his body crumbling.

“kazuma, come here, my love…”

you start, voice as soft and gentle as ever as you slide over next to him, wrapping an arm around the side of his neck to guide his head down on your shoulder. you could care less if the damp strands of his thick hair soak into your jersey. you press a lingering kiss on the top of his head, one hand cradling his head as the other holds onto the back of his shirt in an attempt to ground him to get your words to come through.

“i don’t come to your games expecting a win. i come because i love you. how could i ever love you any less because of a score? you worked so hard and gave it your all— i saw that. and i’m so proud of you. i love you. i always will.”

he’s suddenly still; his trembling fists relaxing as your words begin to sink in. for a second his body does limp in your arms as he sighs out shakily. god, it was all he wanted to hear from you and more. you were here. you always were.

“i… i don’t deserve you, baby. you know that?”

his warbling voice is thick with emotion, the cracks of disbelief and insecurity not going unnoticed by your trained ears. he looks up at you before bringing a large hand up to cup your face.

“you’re still here. i made all these mistakes and you’re still here.”

he croaks out, his chest tightened as his words slow down as he struggles to process everything.

“of course i’m here. where else would i be? look at this hair, hm? you didn’t even comb it, your beard still looks good as ever though.”

you grumble out, running your fingers through his hair and lifting it up before letting it flop back down, running a thumb over his facial hair to try to ease the tension.

“hold on, let me find the dryer and your brush. stay here.”

and he does exactly that. niou sits there, glossy eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. all he could think about is what he did to deserve you. he just can’t bring himself to look away— lost in this little blessing that’s you. how all his aches and pains seemed to unravel the tight, thorny hold it had on his poor heart.

it doesn’t take long until you’re back with the dryer, brush, and his bottle of oil, running your fingers through his hair as you tend to drying it off as quickly as you can. with every manageable comb through with your fingers, niou finds himself coming alive; cracking open bit by bit. slowly starting to become himself a little more with each joke you two crack or kiss he steals from you. his heart growing softer, his weary body lighter.

niou eagerly leans into your touch as you begin to work the brush through his hair, you’re standing in between his legs, combing carefully through the knots and working your way up to his scalp as the slight waviness begins to set in his dark hair, soft and loose. you bring lips down to kiss the hair occasionally, basking in the warmth. he has one arm around your waist and the other beneath the curve of your ass, squeezing the supple flesh of the back of your thigh once in a while as he rests his cheek against your stomach.

you’re finished in no time, rubbing in the egyptian musk oil into his hair. the comfortable silence settling around you both. the rich, masculine smell of wood and amber filling the room. he basks in the warmth of your working hands while you scratch at his scalp, bunching up the curled ends of his hair in your hands before letting them go. the soft clicking sounds of your rings brushing together creates the perfect sound that reminds him of stars twinkling up in the night sky.

“there we go, handsome. you look so good, baby.”

your hands cupping his face once more as you bring your lips down to kiss his, he has his arms wrapped around little tighter around your body before he’s breaks away.

“i love you,” niou murmurs out against your lips.

“i love you. you’ll always be my man,” you reply out breathlessly, your heart swelling with nothing but affection and adoration.

“yeah? say it again.”

“god, you are just… my man. you’re my man.”

“again.”

“you’re my ma—“

you gasp out sharply, unable to finish your sentence he’s up on his feet with that mischievous glint dancing in his bright eyes and a smile you’d rather die now than live a hundred years without seeing. he throws you over his shoulder with ease and picks up his duffle bag with his free hand. niou ignores your laughter and pleas to put you down as he kicks open the locker room door, heading towards the parking lot to his car outside, striding like a man who had won the absolute world.

ᣟ៹ ❤︎៝ : happy valentine’s day weekend!! spent mine eating burritos n typing this up n yearning .. i hope you guys treated yourself n had fun!! you deserve it. <3 i barely see anything for barou as it is but niou work is BARREN .. i hope i reached some niou fans out there pls i love him he is underrated !! i love both of my long haired princesses sm and i just KNOW they are absolute suckers for you and when you comb their hair they just fall in love pls .. i am sorry for any spelling mistakes in advance these came out a lot longer than i had expected omgg .. also got my first ask !! i am so excited to start writing that n those reiner hcs :3

divider creds : miudolli

[fullyanimated]

i have a very talkative cat and when he needs something or is looking for me it often sounds a lot like "mamma" (mum in norwegian)

that's very cute and funny how it sounds like he's calling for me but sometimes there are very small children outside actually saying "mamma" and sometimes they sound just like my cat. it's a big fear of mine, telling my cat to "stop yelling" and the yeller being a toddler calling for their mum

[hatsbuckets]

Thinking about how price would do his best to be professional and stoic all the time, because of the mission... until he comes undone one day with the 141's affectionate little teammate...

Pairings: Price x Reader | TF141 x Reader (if you squint) Short Vers: Cutesy. Comfort. Flirty reader takin care of an injured Price. Literally just wanted to do something cute. WC: ~1700 Oops my hand slipped. Warnings: Canon typical violence-ish: severe leg injury, mention of blood

Price was used to you doting on the team—flirty comments tossed like grenades to break tension, soft kisses planted on cheeks when you thought they needed it most. It had become routine, a part of how you all coped with the relentless grind of the job. The boys, of course, lapped it up.

Soap practically thrived on it, leaning into your affection like a cat demanding more. “Oh, c’mon, give us another,” he’d tease, tapping his cheek with an exaggerated pout until you obliged, laughing at his antics. “Knew you couldn’t resist me, lass,” he’d quip, grinning ear to ear, his cheek still tingling from your touch.

Gaz was subtler about it, but the half-laugh, half-blush that lit up his face whenever you kissed his temple was all the evidence anyone needed. “You spoil us too much,” he’d say, shaking his head, though the warmth in his eyes betrayed how much he appreciated it. He’d never ask outright, but you noticed how he conveniently ended up in your orbit on the harder days.

And there was Ghost—well, Ghost didn’t protest. Not much, anyway. He’d stiffen slightly the first time you planted a quick kiss on the edge of his mask, murmuring something soft and teasing. You’d almost expected him to recoil or bark out a gruff warning, but instead, he’d let out a low huff, half-exasperated, half-resigned. Over time, the stiffness faded, and while he never sought your attention, he also never shied away from it. If anything, you started to catch the faintest shift in his body language, a subtle leaning toward you in those quiet, fleeting moments.

But Price? He was different. He kept his distance, the line between Captain and teammate drawn so firmly it might as well have been carved into stone. It wasn’t that he didn’t notice your affection—oh, he noticed. He saw the way Soap brightened under your banter, the way Gaz carried himself a little lighter after one of your quick, casual pecks. And he saw the way your touch had a way of pulling Ghost out of whatever dark corners he sometimes disappeared into.

He noticed it all, but he made damn sure none of it ever landed on him. Not because he didn’t want it, no—that was the real problem. He wasn’t sure he’d survive it. The idea of your warmth, your care, directed at him, even for a second? That was a vulnerability he couldn’t afford, not as your Captain.

So, when you flirted with him—and you did—he kept his reactions drawn. A grumble of “Focus,” if you were getting particularly cheeky. A muttered “Bloody hell,” paired with an eye roll when you’d wink in his direction with a half-lewd quip at his expense. He deflected it like incoming fire, always quick to push the moment away before it had a chance to stick. Never a crack in that armor. Not once.

Until he came back hurt.

The mission had gone sideways in a way that none of you could’ve predicted. A clean extraction turned into a chaotic firefight, and when the dust finally settled, Price had made damn sure every single one of his team made it out alive. But it wasn’t without cost.

The explosion had been too close, the deafening roar of it still echoing in his mind like an endless drumbeat. The searing heat and shrapnel tore through his leg before he even had a chance to register the pain. All he knew in the moment was the desperate need to keep you all moving, to ensure you made it to the evac point. His body screamed louder than the orders from his mouth.

By the time they reached the chopper, Price could barely stand. Blood soaked through his tactical pants, pooling beneath him as Soap and Ghost half-dragged, half-carried him aboard. His face was pale and tight with pain, his gruff voice reduced to sharp, pained grunts as the medics worked to stabilize him mid-flight.

You had been silent, and the team's usual banter was replaced with a heavy tension as you watched your Captain struggle to bite back a groan as medics worked. Despite their efforts, he wasn't conscious for long after you assured him you were all aboard and headed home. Soap had tried to lighten the mood, cracking a joke about how “the old man finally took a hit,” but it fell flat.

...

Price spent the first few days back on base confined to the medbay, his leg immobilized in a brace, stitches holding together what could barely be called a clean wound. The painkillers dulled the physical ache, but they did little for the simmering frustration underneath. He hated being sidelined, hated seeing the team tiptoe around him when you all visited--and you all visited frequently.

When they finally cleared him to return to his quarters, it was with strict orders to rest and lean on crutches—not that he’d been given much choice. Every step was a battle. Price had always been the one they could lean on when things went to hell. Now, he couldn’t even make it to the door without bracing himself against the walls.

He tried to keep up appearances, but the cracks were showing. The little things betrayed him—his jaw tightening when the pain flared, the way his hand trembled just slightly when he gripped his crutch too hard. And he hated it. Hated being stuck in his quarters, hated the helplessness that clawed at him every time he had to ask for something.

What he hated most, though, was how much he craved the comfort you offered. The way you lingered longer than the others, always making sure he was settled before you left. The softness in your voice when you asked if he needed anything, the gentle brush of your fingers against his arm when you adjusted a pillow or passed him his crutch. You were flirty all the time, sure, but this? This was care, raw and concerned. It was too much and not enough all at once, a lifeline he didn’t know how to reach for without breaking apart entirely.

You didn’t leave him much room to protest your hovering. It started small—a cup of coffee placed on his desk before he even thought to ask, the exact way he liked it. Then came the meals, arriving like clockwork, despite his grumbled insistence that he wasn’t helpless. You ignored the way his eyebrows knitted in irritation when you lingered, adjusting pillows or tugging the throw blanket over his lap when he’d shifted just a little too much and winced for it.

It wasn’t just the tasks, though. It was the quiet way you stayed, your presence filling the space. You didn’t push him to talk, didn’t pry, but you were there. And as much as Price told himself he didn’t need the comfort, as many times as he'd sent you away and to quit your worrying, he’d started to look for it—catching himself glancing at the door, wondering when you’d come back, feeling the silence more acutely when you weren’t around.

...

It was after one of those moments, late in the evening when the base was quiet. The day had dragged on longer than usual, and the ache in his leg had worsened, grinding at his patience. He didn’t ask for help as you guided him to the couch in his quarters, but he didn’t push you away, either. You’d taken one of the crutches and leaned it against the wall, leaving him with no option but to let you take the lead.

“Sit back, Captain,” you said softly, adjusting the cushions behind him. The teasing lilt in your voice was still there, but it was subdued, quiet earnestness that had started to unnerve him. “Relax a little.”

He grunted in response, settling back with a wince as you straightened the blanket over his lap. You stepped back, looking him over like you were assessing his comfort, and he swore he saw something flicker in your expression—hesitation, maybe. Or something deeper.

“That everything, Cap?” you asked, your voice low, softer than usual. The teasing note was still there, but it was almost... careful.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the cushions, moving his toes on his propped-up leg, his weariness in his words. “Yeah. That’s everything.”

But you didn’t leave. You stood there for a second, watching him like you wanted to say something else. Then, without a word, you stepped closer, leaning over him. Price froze, his breath catching as you bent slightly, your lips brushing against his forehead. It wasn’t the first time you’d done it, but something about this moment—the softness, the lingering touch—made his chest tighten.

“Get some rest, John,” you murmured, the way you said his name feeling like a balm he didn’t know he needed.

As you straightened, your hand brushed his, and before he could think better of it, his fingers closed around your wrist. You stilled, your eyes meeting his, wide and questioning. For a moment, the air shifted, warming yet frozen.

Price didn’t know what drove him—the exhaustion, the pain, or the quiet, gnawing need he’d buried for so long. Maybe it was all of it. But before he could stop himself, he tugged you forward, slow but deliberate, his other hand rising to cradle the side of your face.

His lips met yours. The kiss was soft, almost tentative at first, but there was no mistaking the weight behind it. Gratitude, relief, and something—something raw and unyielding—poured into that single moment. He kissed you like a man letting himself feel for the first time in years, and when he finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed beneath his beard, his breaths uneven.

“Should’ve done that ages ago,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, tinged with something that sounded suspiciously like regret.

You blinked at him, stunned, your lips still parted as if the words hadn’t quite reached you yet. Then, slowly, a grin broke across your face, soft and teasing. “What changed?”

He let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back against the cushions. “You. You wore me down, love.”

And just like that, his walls crumbled.

[airybcby]

Did You See Me On TV?

( bllk boys and being in a long distance relationship )

a/n — thought about this and just HAD to write. no long distance relationship experience, but def some long distance friendship experience. rather short, but i had to get it out.

content — fem! reader, set in the ' Neo Egoist ' era, some characters repeated, all characters 18+, angst, fluff, maybe some ooc for some people??, nicknames 'love' , 'babe' , 'baby' , ' my girl ' , and 'sweetheart' used

synopsis — yes, he's a world famous soccer player, but he's also your boyfriend. how does this effect your relationship?

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' you tell yourself it's fine, ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' radio silence '

it's been a month since your boyfriend had left to go play for the soccer team he'd been assigned to, and what had you heard from him?

...complete and utter silence.

you understood he was busy now, you really did, but he hadn't even called while he'd been gone. any text he sent was no more than 3 words.

you were still in love with him, but was he in love with you anymore? had he forgotten all about you? was there another girl that was better than you?

the promise the two of you had made before he left sat on your tongue like lead now.

" you'll come back whenever you can, right? " you'd asked him. " for you? always. i couldn't imagine a life without you. i promise i'll call every chance i get. "

you stared at your phone, the text you'd sent him before his game started staring back at you...mocking you.

you: good luck, love!! i'm rooting for you from home! i love you, have fun, don't get hurt. call me when you can <3

it was almost pitiful. three almost exact texts sat above that one, and he hadn't even bothered to read them until after the game, simply replying with a...

him <3 : thanks

and no, if you were wondering, he hadn't ever called you.

and here you were, like a fool, curled up in your bed watching his game on live TV, watching as he made his second goal of the day.

maybe, just maybe, he'd call you after this one.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ SAE ITOSHI, isagi yoichi, RIN ITOSHI, oliver aiku, OTOYA EITA, rensuke kunigami

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' a complete mess '

he'd been gone a month, and you can't count a single day he hasn't called you three times at minimum. you'd been together for a while, but you never realized how much he relied on you to do basic everyday tasks for him.

"babe? do you know where i usually keep my long socks?" you heard come from your phone speaker as you were trying to do your own homework, mind you.

" usually in the middle of your top drawer next to your underwear. unless you've changed it. " you stated, he'd asked you this question every single time he had a game since he had left, but you wouldn't dare expect him to remember that.

" you're the best, baby. what would i do without you? " your boyfriend asked as he pulled socks out of his drawer, propping his phone up on the bedside lamp as he slid the socks onto his feet.

" lose your head, probably. " you joked, looking up from your work to admire him.

yes, everyone got to see him as the big, bad soccer player on TV, but with you? he seemed like a completely different person, not someone who could get a hat trick and also simultaneously asking where their phone is while it's in their hand.

" your games soon, love. you gotta get going. " you helpfully reminded him, as if you were his personal alarm ( you were but that's besides the point )

" ah crap, thank you baby. i'll call you after i win," he said cheekily. " i'll score a goal just for you, so make sure you watch!"

" you know i will. call you later, i love you. " you reflected his smile through the phone. " i love you too! " he repeated. and just as you were about to press the 'end call' button...

"oh, baby? do you remember where i put my jersey?"

yeah, without you he'd be a train wreck.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, bachira meguru, HIORI YO, gin gagamaru, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, ranze kurona

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' basically married '

it'd been a month since your boyfriend had left to go play professional soccer, and out of the four games he had played, you'd been flown out for three of them.

" do you like it? " he asked giddily, as if he was a child on christmas morning waiting to open presents. but instead of a gift, it was him showing you the hotel room he'd gotten you so you could watch his game this week too.

" you're too sweet to me, love. i would've been happy just sitting at home and cheering you on from there. " you told him. " nope! you're no longer allowed to watch the games from home," he said as if it was a fact.

oh, soccer players and their superstitions.

" even the whole team agrees! my girl is our lucky charm! "

the one game you missed, because you had a big test may i add, they lost. it wasn't a horrible loss, no, they went into additional time and lost 5-4.

your shock and confusion must have been written all of your face, because he just laughed. " c'mon sweetheart, why don't you just come live with me here ? "

many reasons, actually. you still had school, it was across the world (not really but it felt like it ), your family, your friends.

he knew all of this, of course. there usually wasn't a day that you seriously considered it. considered being here, with him, instead of having to facetime and miss him.

one day, you would, but not now...you think.

"oh, hush. you gotta get going, you have a game to win." you huffed, pushing at his shoulder to hopefully get him going out the door.

"alright, alright. i'll come back with you after the game, sweetheart. i love you, see you after my win! "

and win he would, because he swore to himself that if he won this game the velvet box that was hiding in his dresser would finally be able to come out.

but, hey, even if he didn't win, would you say no to the ring he had custom made for you?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ REO MIKAGE, isagi yoichi, YUKIMIYA KENYU, chigiri hyoma, nijiro nanase, BARO SHOEI

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' you're just in love ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

this was really written on a whim, but i hope yall liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!

[arkhamsbrat]

you were robbed of summer, i was robbed of you

jason todd x civilian reader

when jason left, your light did too. six years of your life spent attached at jason’s hip crumbled around you with one knock on your door, and a small shoe box of old journals and trinkets was placed in your hands. they told you the funeral was that next week. you barely had time to register that they told you how he really died. asked you to keep it to yourself.

that boy you spent your childhood with, running through dark allies and making the best of your shitty little lives was gone. the boy who read to you, sat in the gamestop and played the trial of mario kart with you til you got kicked out, gone. you didn’t even get to say goodbye. they didn’t even let you see him before they buried him.

at least the bastard pitied you was kind enough to let you visit Mr. Wayne’s graveyard. you left letters, flowers, anything that reminded you of him. there were too many times that Mr. Wayne found you passed out against his tombstone. you’d wake up back in your own home, unsure of how you got there. it didn’t matter.

the next four years were miserable, barely scraping by without a few trips to the hospital from your constant exhaustion. you made it, at least. got a little cat to give you something to motivate you. her name was robin. a little stray you found on your fire escape. jason would’ve loved her.

you could see it when you closed your eyes. jason sitting on your couch, crooked smile wide as robin climbed all over him. how he’d whisper to her when he thought you couldnt hear. you saw him everywhere, doing everything. because that’s where he should be.

heroes came back all the time. the flashes, superboy, impulse, even batman. what did you need to do to bring him back? what did you have to give up? did you need to tear yourself in two all over again just to get your best friend back?

these thoughts played over and over, every single day that passed. it got to the point where you could see little silver hairs sprouting out of your head after april passed. they got thicker in august, when you kneeled by the edge of your toilet and sobbed so hard you got sick. he should be 21 now, piss drunk on your ragged old couch and cackling at how you stumbled around.

you felt pathetic when robin came and nuzzled at your leg, meowing for your attention. you ran your fingers through her fur before pulling her into your arms, feeling her purr. “how dumb do i look right now, jayce?” you muttered to yourself, bitterly. “makin’ you real proud, i bet.”

you didn’t hear the boots hit against your fire escape, nor did you see red hood slink down to peer through your smudged windows. it’d become a habit of his, though he was disappointed you weren’t as aware of your surroundings as you should’ve been.

jason watched. almost nightly. thats more than what he thought he deserved. nearly threw up in his mask the first time he saw your grey streak, stress induced.

the two of you were strangers now, he reminded himself consistently. the boy you knew was long gone, and he strongly doubted you would ever accept any of his changes. he’d hoped you’d changed for the worst. maybe he’d find something he could move on from. something to hate you for. maybe he could throw away the letters he wrote to you in hopes that one day he could come to you. in hopes he’d be able to come home.

thats what he’d always found in you. he craved it- the simplicity of you. hell, he’d even take you yelling at him for being stupid. for leaving you. he’d find a home in that, as long as it was your voice raising at him. before he came back, he was afraid you’d forgotten. he’d hoped you didn’t, in a fucked up way he hoped you’d hurt the same way he did. that you’d never forgotten him.

he regretted those wishes the minute he saw you crying over a cheap cookie with a candle stabbed through, drunk off your own ass. the date didn’t even cross his mind when he landed, only looking to check in on you. he had to fight back his own tears when it dawned on him. even now, you cared about his birthday?

if he wasn’t so stupid you wouldn’t be alone. if he didn’t care so much, if he didn’t go to-

you looked up before he got to finish any of his thoughts, letting out a shrill scream when you saw the masked vigilante on your fire escape. if he wasn’t so upset he would’ve laughed at how fast you grabbed your cat and raced to your bedroom, nearly tripping against the toys strewn about the floor. he’d wanted to mock you about how you spoiled that cat. jason wanted to be with you again. to be normal with you.

he’d never see you again if he could just tell you that you’re what got him through it all. it’s always been you, always will be. thirty minutes pass while he contemplated if he deserves to be selfish with you before he just said fuck it. he slid your window open and slipped through, searching for your room.

he’d get on you about actually locking the damn window later.

jason couldn’t find it in him to care about hiding that it was him. it was you he was telling. no matter the fear blooming from deep withinin him, he knew you’d see him. trust him. love him, if he let you.

the red hood mask got thrown onto your couch while he scrambled to your door. he knew you could hear his footsteps, probably scared shitless. how was he supposed to start this?

“been a long time…” he spoke, barely able to mask the shake in his voice. “i didn’t… i didn’t think you’d still think about me, honestly. i hoped you did, but… everyone else seemed to replace me. shoulda known you never would’ve…” jason couldn’t feel how his whole body shook as he kept speaking, barely remembering when he slid down to the floor.

“thought about you every god damn day, y’know? always wanted to tell you that. wondered if you went to school. if you were still damn awful at chemistry… did’jya start workin’ at that little cafe? said y’would once you turned sixteen…” he rambled on, tears spilling down his scarred cheeks. “i know y’don’t know me anymore… y’lost your jason… but i probably lost my you too… y’look miserable. that my fault too?”

jason heard the floorboards creak from the other side of the door. a quiet shuffling, alongside a very upset meow as a cats paw swiped under the door, catching at his jeans. he laughed quietly, setting his hand down so the cat could paw at him instead of the jeans that he just stole off some douchebag that tried to mug a mother thrifted. he felt his whole body tense when you finally spoke. “her name’s robin… thought jason would’ve liked that. none’a this is his fault.”

“i do.” he pressed his head against the door, seconds away from begging you to open it. a cat… you named your scraggly ass cat after him. you sounded exhausted- if he could snap his fingers and take it all from you, he’d do it in a heartbeat. “jason’s dead… they said he got killed by…” he let out a sharp sigh. “i wanted to come back to you, i swear. it’s a real long story.”

he heard more shuffling behind the door, and then a click. your head peeked through the crack. “…i never make plans on your birthday…i have time?” for the first time in a long time, jason felt a small smile pull at the corner of his mouth. “are you gonna remember any of this in the morning, drunkard?”

his grin widens when you shrug, teary eyes boring into his. “then i get to see you for the first time all over again. jackass.”

[the-modern-typewriter]

hey , I've been in love with your writing ever since I came across your blog , will you please write about a very intimidating villian who decides to kidnap the hero because he finds him cute when he is absolutely afraid of him

"The man who isn't afraid of anything," the villain mused. He trailed the edge of a blade along the hero's cheek, capturing a silent tear upon the tip. "Look at you now."

"Whatever it is that you want from me, whatever you want to know-"

"-Shh."

The hero's mouth snapped shut.

The villain smiled, crooked with an illusion of wholesome boyishness at the corner.

"You talk when I ask you a question, cutie," the villain said. "The only other sound I want to hear from you otherwise is whimpers. That was your one warning. Nod if you understand?"

Of course, the hero couldn't comfortably nod with a sharp knife against their face; not without digging the blade into suddenly soft skin.

The villain raised an eyebrow.

The hero nodded, very slightly, but even that tiny movement caused the blade tip to dig in. A small bead of blood formed on their perfect features, trickling down towards their jaw. The hero's breath hitched.

The villain's smile grew. "Good boy."

The hero shuddered, one of those whimpers all too ready and startled on his tongue. His eyes were all wide and pretty filled with an animal panic.

The villain reached out a hand, smoothing his palm along the hero's chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall, the desperate thumping of his heart like the sweetest melody.

The hero's eyes flinched shut. He trembled in his restraints.

The hero was not, it was true, a man frightened of many things. His abilities left him invulnerable to everything. Well, almost everything, as they had found. The villain's particular gift was to suck away the powers of anyone around him by virtue of his mere presence. The expression on the hero's face when he realised he'd gone from unstoppable god to just a man, to just like everyone else...

Well. It was adorable. The villain had always liked to collect adorable things.

"Please," the hero whispered, like he just couldn't help himself. The once powerful often couldn't.

"Was that a question, my dove?"

"Just let me go. I didn't - I'm sorry I came after you - I didn't - I thought -"

"You thought you could win?" The villain's voice was oh so sweet.

The hero flinched again. He met the villain's gaze and gave another frantic nod as the villain's blade moved on, caressing down their chest to meet the villain's free hand.

"That was stupid, wasn't it? What a silly goose you are."

A delicious, impotent fury flashed through the hero's eyes.

The villain dug the blade in. It was barely even a scratch, but a scratch could be a terrible thing to a man who had never had the privilege of being hurt before, knowing only that it could get much worse.

The fury was entirely drowned out by terror again.

The villain made a show of sighing. "You'll tell me everything?"

"I - what? Yes."

"You'd hand your friends over on a platter? Everyone counting on you?"

The hero's jaw clenched with anguish.

"Hm?" the villain pressed. "Would you hand them all over in exchange for me letting you go?"

"Yes." It was barely above a whisper.

"Go on then."

He let the hero bluster and ramble, trying to tuck away details and secrets, trying to stall, trying to do anything he could to win like he still hadn't quite learned. The villain nodded diligently along, devouring it all.

The hero eventually stuttered to a halt.

The villain waited a beat. The he stabbed the knife gently into the hero's hand.

The hero screamed. Confusion and outrage and guilt joined the terror. There was no longer a single tear, but a flood of them.

Cute, cute, cute.

The villain leaned in, knife moving fast to tilt the hero's head.

"I didn't take you for information," he confessed. "I just took you."

The hero stared at him, almost uncomprehending, eyes glassy. "But - I - what do you want from me"?

The villain pressed a kiss to the hero's nose.

"Nothing."

The hero whimpered again. Just pathetic.

"There's literally nothing you can do to make you let you go, sweetheart," the villain said, in the same confiding tone of voice. "I'm not going to."

The hero shook his head. He seemed to be having difficulty breathing properly. He was reaching the overwhelmed stage of fear, wasn't he? Not the villain's favourite, but a delight nonetheless.

The villain patted the hero's cheek, tender comfort, and stroked his hair. He pulled the hero a little closer, cooing in his ear. He gave him a moment to relax, instincts all disorientated and craving something lovely. He waited until the hero had struggled his breathing back under control, trying oh so hard to be brave. Then.

"You're going to die here, my little love," the villain said. "Now. What should we do about you speaking out of turn?"

[feeder86]

Roy's Boy

“Don’t even go there,” warned Roy as he saw Scotty checking out the most handsome guy he had ever seen coming into the bar.

“Who is he?” Scotty marvelled, turning to his much older boss. Tall, muscular and with the face of a supermodel, the guy who had just come in wasn’t in the same league as anyone else there that night.

“He’s bad news,” Roy stated, between grabbing drinks from the refrigerators behind him. “Not the type you want to get messed up with.”

Scotty served his own customers, continuing to glance over their shoulders as the outstandingly beautiful guy began perusing the crowds there that night as if they were pieces of meat.

“Jed’s a bratty jerk who thinks he rules this town just because mommy and daddy own the timber plant,” Roy went on to explain. “I’ve had more than a few run-ins with him, lording about in here like he owns the place. It’s a wonder he can get his head through the door,” he sighed, keeping an eye on the guy as he strutted about.

“His family actually owns the timber plant?” Scotty replied, impressed.

Roy sighed, seeing that his new, young bartender wasn’t getting the message he’d intended. “Just trust me on this one. Jed’s not a nice guy. You wouldn’t believe some of the stories I’ve heard about how he gets his kicks.”

Scotty couldn’t help but feel even more intrigued. As nice as Roy was, taking a fatherly interest in him when he took this job at the gay bar two weeks ago, he’d never encouraged Scotty to date anyone who came in. Being only nineteen and recently out to his hostile parents, Scotty had never come across the bad-boy type; Jed had piqued his interest like no-one else ever had. The guy had the air of a brute who would happily take the lead in the bedroom and make any lover submit to him. Just the thought of being mercilessly dominated by him was making Scotty glad that his crotch was hidden behind the bar most of the time.

“Who’s the fresh meat?” Jed asked as he came up a few minutes later, spotting that Scotty was a new employee; his voice deep and powerful, much like his staggeringly built body.

Roy had stepped in front of Scotty the moment he saw Jed approach. “Off limits!” he stated assertively. “What drink do you want?”

Jed smirked, eyeing Scotty with more interest now that Roy was standing in his way. “He’s cute,” he nodded appraisingly. “Tight ass, pretty face. Was that on the job advert?” he asked cheekily.

“Off limits!” Roy repeated, now with a hint of aggression. He pulled the lid off a bottle of beer and pushed it towards the arrogant jock. “No charge,” he growled, just wanting Jed to get back to the dancefloor and away from the bar. The bribe seemed to be a language that Jed understood best, tipping his head at the free beer and smirking at Scotty as he retreated back, somewhat satisfied with his result.

Scotty couldn’t help continuing to check Jed out whenever he looked up. He saw the guy sitting in a chair to the side of the dancefloor, his legs spread wide open, displaying his long and muscular thighs and ensuring that every single person who gazed upon him imagined themselves sucking him off; Scotty most of all. He could feel an arousal inside of him that was unlike any sort of attraction he had ever felt before. Boys were making a fuss of him, with one guy sitting on his lap for a short while; his ass crudely felt up by Jed’s enormous hands as he whispered something clearly kinky into the hunk’s ear.

A sudden rush came at the bar and the next time Scotty looked up, Jed had gone; onto the next bar. Scotty sighed in disappointment and inwardly cursed Roy for getting between him and possibly the best fuck of his life. He decided then that if he ever was lucky enough to come acrossJed again, he wouldn’t be so easily quietened. If Jed really was such a bad boy, he was going to have fun learning that for himself.

As the clubs were in full swing, it was time for the smaller bars to start to close up for the evening. Roy was in a particularly good mood, letting Scotty leave as soon as the cash registers had been balanced. He skipped out the front, taking in the warm summer air and tried to recall the breathtaking images of Jed that he still had in his head. The man had been so fucking sexy! He could still feel his boner even though it had been two whole hours since Jed had come in. 

Scotty walked slowly by another bar, noticing that they still had quite a crowd inside. He peered in, just in case Jed was amongst them. Then, his heart skipped a beat. There the beautiful guy was, surrounded by other handsome boys, like his own personal fan club!

Wasting no time, Scotty went in and leaned against the bar to be served, deciding that a short detour before home would be worth it if he could catch Jed’s attention once more.

Keen-eyed Jed spotted him straight away, sliding over straight after he had been served. “Well, well, well… what have we here?” he sang. Scotty’s heart started beating with incredible speed. He couldn’t tell whether he was about to be flirted with or bullied. Either way, he was already getting horny. “I wonder why you came in here!” he chuckled, seeming to already know Scotty's motives.

“I often pop in here after a shift,” Scotty lied.

“Sure you do!” Jed laughed, getting closer and closer. “How’s the lovely Roy these days?” he asked.

“He’s fine,” Scotty replied, finding he was too nervous and excited to even hold eye contact for more than a second or two. “Why does he dislike you so much, though?” he questioned him; his curiosity getting the better of him.

At this, Jed smirked. “I may have fucked a few people in the bathrooms at your bar,” he beamed proudly.

“We often get guys misbehaving in the cubicles,” Scotty shrugged, a little disappointed if that was to be the extent of Jed’s sexy ‘bad boy’ reputation.

“Oh, I don’t squeeze into those uncomfortable cubicles!” Jed laughed. “I get off on having an audience when I’m fucking someone. I don’t know what little Roy was complaining about. I certainly packed out his bar for him.”

Scotty tried to imagine the sight, feeling his breath catching in his chest with excitement. His eyes drifted onto Jed’s full, plump lips, losing control of himself.

“Roy sure knows how to pick the kinky twinks,” Jed teased, searching into Scotty's eyes and seeming to instinctively know all of the dirty thoughts that were running though his mind. “So, you grew up in Tennessee, huh?” he asked next, as if trying to refocus the conversation back onto something that might calm the horny Scotty down.

“I grew up around here,” Scotty answered, bewildered by Jed. “I moved from Tennessee when I was about five. But how did you know that?” 

“A couple of your vowels when you speak,” Jed replied. “It’s very subtle, but it’s there if you know what you’re looking for.”

“You’re very observant,” Scotty mumbled back, wondering just how much more Jed had inferred about him. No one had ever commented on his indistinct accent before. It was clear to him that Jed was as sharp as they came.

“Are you taking him back with us?” asked a muscular guy to Jed, strutting over with a feminine looking conquest under his arm.

“Of course I’m taking him home,” Jed replied, looking Scotty up and down. “Don’t be too flattered,” he chuckled to the slender bartender he had spoken to for the first time only a minute earlier. “I fuck all of Roy’s boys. It really pisses him off.”

Scotty didn’t care about the motives or consequences at that moment. His erection was wanting him to follow Jed, no matter where he led him. He abandoned his full drink and followed the boys on that short journey down the street towards an apartment building. Once in the elevator, Jed pulled him in to kiss him passionately, as if this was all a well rehearsed and highly effective warm-up for the main event. His massive, sexy body pressed into him, hands roaming exactly where they needed to. Then he stood back and smiled wickedly, knowing that he had Scotty hornier than he had ever been in his life.

Once on the top floor, the two other guys entered the apartment, with voices and dance music escaping as soon as the door opened. Jed held Scotty back in the entrance space, ready to explain the rules and expectations.”I’m leaving fifty bucks here,” he demonstrated, pulling out the ruffled notes from his wallet and placing them on the small table by the door. “If you want to leave at any time, just take it and get yourself a cab. The guy downstairs will help you out.”

Scotty nodded despite having no intention of going anywhere. But Jed’s intention was clear: he was free to leave whenever he liked.

“If you want to suck my dick tonight, you gotta leave your clothes here,” Jed ordered next, pointing to a pile of empty, discarded shirts, pants, underwear, socks and shoes. “The subs don’t wear anything in here,” he explained matter-of-factly. Then he stood, waiting for Scotty to comply.

Scotty didn’t waste a second. He wanted to be part of one of Jed’s exhibitionist fantasies like nothing else. He kicked off his shoes, pulled off his work shirt, released his belt and dropped his pants, alongside his underwear; taking pride in showing off just how hard his erection had become. Twenty seconds of stroking and the whole thing might blow.

The main living area was large and spacious, with double height windows and several areas for people to congregate. Guys were everywhere, some naked and some not, lounging about the place. From their reactions when Jed entered, it was obvious that this was his place. The star of the show had just returned, holding a naked, skinny twink’s hand, ready to fuck in front of them all. They stopped what they were doing, conversations ending and they moved to see what entertainment Jed had in store.

“He’s very slim!” chuckled one of the guys to the side. “Not your usual type at all!”

Jed laughed and nodded, stroking Scotty’s slender butt with hardly an ounce of fat on it. He;d always been the same: moderately tall and lanky with a runner’s build. “He’s one of Roy’s new bartenders. You know what Roy’s like for his twinks. I had to collect the set.”

Scotty felt even more blessed to be there. He wasn’t even Jed’s usual type, yet there he was, about to have the pinnacle of his sexual experiences merely because the bad boy had a vendetta against his boss. He was sent down onto his knees. Jed unbuckled his pants, feeding his oversized erection into Scotty’s mouth. No wonder the guy was so into public sex. He had no reason at all to ever feel conscious about his size. Scotty had never taken something so big; his mouth needing a little while to work out what to do with it all.

Jed continued chatting to those around him, recounting the story of how he had been sent away by Roy earlier. They all laughed at the bit where Scotty had turned up at the bar later and been so easily enticed back; moaning with appreciation at watching him trying to suck Jed off.

“Alright, alright,” Jed chuckled a few minutes later, pulling Scotty’s mouth off his hardness. “That’s not really your specialty!” He looked around at the others. “Skinny boys always give shit blowjobs.”

Scotty noticed people rushing to push some of the large sofa sections together. The whole thing came apart in modules, leaving a large, square, bed-like stage in the middle of a surprisingly crowded space.

“Face down. Ass up,” Jed ordered him, guiding him to the area. He’d slipped a condom on and lubricated himself up, all the while Scotty presenting his butt to the eager crowds. But once Jed was inside him, working up a sweat, nothing else mattered. Scotty felt the eyes upon them, heightening his sexual thrill. He came the moment Jed reached around and grabbed his hardness, only seconds before he ejaculated himself. Some in the crowd had started touching themselves, others subs going down on their men.

Jed, drenched in sweat and smiling proudly simply turned to Scotty and whispered. “Be sure to tell Roy that I did that!”

The whole living space was empty when Scotty woke up the next morning to a loud sound. He’d always been a deep sleeper, having crashed on the couch at some point and not woken, even as the sun had started to pour in through the enormous windows. Had he missed the memo? Had Jed expected everyone gone before he was up the next morning?

“You’re still here?” asked a naked Jed, striding into the kitchen moments later, opening the refrigerator and drinking his milk straight from the carton.

Scotty apologised, fumbling as he got up and tried to remember where he had left all of his clothes. Jed leaned against the wall, watching with amusement as a slightly panicked Scotty tried his best to dress himself from the scattered remains of his clothes across the hallway.

“Thanks for last night,” Scotty tried once he was half dressed. “It was the best experience I’ve ever had.”

Jed only smirked and downed more of his milk.

“Is there any chance you might want to do it again some time?” Scotty asked next, knowing that he would regret it if he didn’t.

“I fucked you to piss Roy off,” Jed answered honestly. In fairness, his agenda had always been blatantly transparent. “You’re not my type. All that skin and bone. I’m into chubs.”

Scotty nodded, not in the least bit surprised that Jed wasn’t interested in seeing him again. Although the fact that a guy like Jed could be into chubs was not something he had expected until last night. 

“Maybe if you gained thirty pounds or so, we could discuss it. I’m sure Roy would love that!” Jed joked, supping from his milk once again.

“Roy’s a nice guy,” Scotty replied, feeling that he needed to defend the kind boss who had looked after him so much since he’d moved to the city and been practically disowned by his parents. “He didn’t hire me because of how I look.”

Jed laughed. “Roy’s not a nice guy,” he sniggered. “And he absolutely hired you because of how you look. That’s why all his employees look almost identical. If he’s not made a move on you, it’s because he’s not got you where he wants you yet. Trust me, he does it with every single one of his bartenders eventually.”

Again, Scotty shook his head. “You just don’t know him like I do,” he sighed, finally pushing his feet into his shoes and turning to leave.

“Wanna bet?” Jed asked, as if Scotty had thrown down a challenge. “Saint Roy wouldn’t be half as nice to you if you did put on a little weight.”

“He’s not interested in me like that,” Scotty repeated.

“Fine then. Prove it!” Jed demanded. “You wanna be Roy’s boy, or mine?” he asked flirtatiously, stepping closer.

“Yours,” Scotty replied meekly back, his heart beating faster again.

“Gain thirty pounds for me and I’ll fuck you in front of everyone again, just like last night,” Jed offered, his hands sliding onto Scotty’s butt as he pulled him in. “No muscle, no weight training. Just give me some nice doughy padding on that ass of yours for when I fuck you next.”

Even the thought of a second fucking like yesterday’s was giving Scotty a hardness he couldn’t control. “I’d do anything…” he whispered back lustfully.

Jed smiled and kissed him, motioning him back towards the door. When the kiss ended, Scotty was already on the threshold. Jed had spun him around by his shoulders and with a little push on his butt, Scotty was outside in the corridor. “I guess we’ll soon see, won’t we,” Jed grinned back, swinging the door shut behind him. Gone.

After several rounds of touching himself, thinking about the previous night, Scotty set to work researching his task without a second thought. He needed to gain a good few pounds if he had a hope of getting with Jed again. The internet had lots of good ideas, although weblinks kept sending him back to sites that promoted ways to lose weight, rather than gain it. He studied the advice for weight loss, realising that he could reverse much of it if he wanted to see the number on the scales rising. So what if he might look a little chubby for a while? Experiences like the one last night could not be matched, so why fight against doing what had to be done? He’d been far too skinny most of his life anyway.

Word had reached Roy that Jed had slept with Scotty by the time he started his next shift that Wednesday evening. The relentless gossip was one of the most frustrating parts of this community, Scotty realised. Roy was obviously cross, reminding Scotty again and again how he had tried to keep him out of harm’s way, as well as the reasons why. Scotty found himself apologising simply to appease the guy, not daring to explain any of the details of how thrilling and magical the evening had been. Roy wouldn’t want to hear that he didn’t regret a thing.

For two weeks, Roy was colder with him, before things finally started to lighten up. However, that was before a new challenge hit them.

“Those pants look a bit tight,” the older man commented seeing Scotty unloading some beers into the refrigerators. 

Scotty idiotically tried to turn his head over his shoulder, as if he too could see his butt. He’d done everything he had learned in order to gain weight, but had only managed about five pounds so far. Surely that wasn’t enough for his boss to notice?

“You know, if you’re going to work here, the customers expect you to look tidy,” Roy reminded him.

“The pants feel fine,” Scotty shrugged. “I just gained a couple of pounds. That’s all.”

Roy raised his eyebrows disapprovingly. “Well, sort it out,” he grumbled warningly.

Scotty soon realised that pants which felt fine one day could soon become quite restrictive the next. He couldn’t deny that his butt had swollen up as he finally reached a ten pound gain on the scales. His flat stomach had taken a bit of a beating, looking constantly bloated; remaining like it was after a large meal. When he poked and prodded it, everything underneath the skin felt altogether softer. His tight, figure-hugging t-shirts had to be put away for the time being, and Scotty bought himself some stretchier pants for work, pairing them with a black shirt that made his less streamlined appearance stand out less. By fifteen pounds, Scotty was starting to feel it under his chin. Each time he shaved, he could see the little padding getting puffier and puffier. Softness was spreading into his hips and sides, swelling slight love handles out that further complicated the fit of both his pants and shirts by the time over twenty pounds hit. He looked, for all the world to see, like a young guy ready to go on a diet. Twenty-five pounds sounded like a tiny amount of weight, yet it had altered his appearance so much, especially when his shirt came off.

As for Jed, Scotty hadn’t laid eyes on him in the entire three months he had been following every single nutritional advice he could in order to pack on the pounds. There were faces he recognised of the people who had been at the party that night, but none of them were ever with Jed, nor willing to hand out his cell phone number whenever Scotty cheekily asked for it. Some said he was on vacation, others that he was working away. In either case, Scotty was soon going to reach his weight goal and the guy he was doing this for wasn’t even going to be around to see it.

It began to dawn on Scotty just how much extra weight thirty pounds was. With it, he had actually grown a small belly that rounded out his middle, whilst he was also starting to carry extra blubber around his nipples for the first time. His cheeks had become puffier in his face and even with his styling choices, he wasn’t able to conceal the fact that he had gained quite a considerable amount of weight. But with the absence of Jed around town, Scotty suddenly had an unexpectedly awkward job on his hands. At 185lbs, he’d hit his weight target and now needed to somehow maintain it without dropping down again. That would mean he would need to maintain certain aspects of his new eating regime, without going overboard. Something that had never been part of the plan. What Scotty had expected was a short-term weight gain, followed by a cut that would see his weight return to normal.

Perhaps it was all about the timing. Scotty had hit the goal weight just as the holidays were getting underway. He should have known that maintaining his weight would have been no issue. But as Scotty tried to button his pants that January, he realised that he had actually done even more damage than before. He stepped on the scales and sighed in disappointment at himself. It couldn’t be? The scales had to be off! He couldn’t really be 197lbs, surely? Had he really fucked up his metabolism that much on this weight quest? He needed to go on a diet as soon as possible.

“What the fuck did you do?” cried out a deep and powerful voice as Scotty busily collected the empty glasses and bottles from the tables in the bar. He’d been rushed off his feet, with Roy choosing to leave him with a fairly incompetent new hire. But as he turned around to see who was shouting, the air got caught in Scotty’s lungs and his eyes visibly bulged. It was Jed, looking even more built and physically imposing than the last time Scotty had seen him.

In an instant, Scotty realised how stupid he had been. Jed was joking about the weight gain, right? He’d made a couple of throwaway comments about gaining thirty pounds and here Scotty was with almost an additional fifty. He rubbed his stomach, suddenly wishing he could make it all disappear.

“You’re an actual fatty!” Jed laughed, reaching out to Scotty’s hips as the boy held his tray of empties. Then Jed spun him around so that he could see the wide, bloated mess his butt had become.

“I’ve been doing it for you…” Scotty shot back, now feeling a desperate need to explain himself. “...Like you asked.”

Jed turned him back and reached his hand under Scotty’s chin, pulling forwards so that all of the new double chin fat bulged underneath. “This is way more than thirty pounds, though,” Jed observed shrewdly. 

“I went a little overboard,” Scotty replied meekly, seeing that people were starting to stare. “I got carried away.”

Jed was just staring at him, spinning him some more; a wicked twinkle in his eyes. He reached down and readjusted himself. Was he actually getting a hard-on, right there in the middle of the bar?

“Where can I take you to fuck you?” Jed demanded, looking around the space as if exploring all possible options.

“I can’t. I’m working,” Scotty replied regretfully, hardly believing the apparent urgency that Jed needed him after all.

“Fuck!” Jed moaned, sounding like he might actually burst. He looked at his large designer watch knowing exactly what time the bar would be shutting. “Come to my place after you finish,” he ordered, strapping his big hand over Scotty’s butt and squeezing. “You remember where to go, right? I’ll make sure there are plenty to watch…”

Scotty nodded. After months of work, everything was suddenly happening so fast. Not only was this happening, it was happening tonight! At long last, Jed was about to have his way with him.

Jed wasn’t the one to answer the door when Scotty finally made it up to the apartment two hours later. A short, hairy and slightly older guy answered. Completely naked, it was obvious that he was the submissive of someone inside. Had he been there last time? Scotty could hardly remember. However, with the way his body was being scrutinised, Scotty felt sure that he must have been: eyes of judgement upon him for packing on so much extra weight.

Jed, your new chub’s here!” the guy cried out.

Suddenly, a strapping, shirtless, athletic guy was racing to the door. He picked Scotty up from the threshold, throwing him over his shoulder excitedly and calling out to the room in his deep voice. “My new fatty’s arrived!”

Scotty was very aware that all everyone could see of him as he went in was his wider, chubbier rear, held at head level for the rest of the guests; some of whom patted it in amusement. It was the ass that he hoped Jed was about to give a proper pounding, all going well.

Jed put him down and immediately swept Scotty up into a surprisingly romantic, passionate kiss. He took a step back, leaving Scotty as the focal point of all the eyes in the room. “Take note everyone,” Jed called out. “This is what a real sub looks like,” he beamed. “I challenged him to gain thirty pounds for me and the little pig went and gained fifty instead! All of it pure blubber!”

Jed stared intensely whilst the others in the room looked at each other, perhaps some of them starting to recognise Scotty now from when he was here a few months ago. Jed lowered his zipper and pulled out his own hardness, stroking it excitedly: big and heavy, too large for even his giant hand. He nodded at Scotty, his meaning clear in that moment: start undressing.

Scotty gazed with lust at Jed’s hardness as he began unbuttoning his shirt. He heard gasps of surprise as he pulled it off, knowing just how much the material had concealed his flabbier shape. He knew how bad the back fat looked: the stretch-marked love handles resting on his belt, the fleshy swelling of his nipples. But still Jed grinned, stroking himself; silently demanding more. He noticed that the music had been turned down low as he removed his belt and kicked off his shoes. He undid his pants, dropping his underwear at the same time, uncovering his comparatively underwhelming hardness.

“Fuck, look at it!” a horny Jed proclaimed. “He absolutely destroyed his twink body for me!”

Scotty smiled, realising that that was exactly what he had done, surrendering his whole body in the hope of Jed dominating him one more time. More than ever, he wanted Jed to take him, turning slightly so that he could show the muscular boy his glutes, swollen and enlarged. He put his weight on one foot, making one glute bulge and then the other. He reached his hands behind, bouncing the fleshiness, then spreading them apart. 

That was the last thing that Jed could take, ripping off his clothes and launching himself upon Scotty; starting to make love to him. Unlike last time, there was a horny urgency to the whole thing. It felt like barely a minute had gone by before Jed was moaning in his ear as he came inside him; simultaneously stroking Scotty up and down his shaft and making him squirt absolutely everywhere.

“Fuck!” Jed moaned collapsing on top of Scotty, still fully inserted inside of him. He seemed completely spent and satisfied; much like Scotty himself. The pair lay there for a minute or two, laughing blissfully whilst everyone else drifted off; the music returning to the usual volume. “I’m going to need to do that again later,” Jed explained, finally rolling off Scotty.

“Fine by me,” Scotty beamed, only now realising that his socks were still on. After all those months of gaing, he knew he was going to make sure that he stayed there for as long as Jed would have him.

Jed had been insatiable, fucking him twice before bed that night and another, more rapid and sweaty affair the next morning. “How’s the lovely Roy these days?” Jed asked, spooning Scotty lovingly from behind afterwards. 

“He’s fine,” Scotty replied. “A bit grumpy. I’m lucky I don’t see him so much these days. I usually work with the other staff.”

“What a surprise!” Jed chuckled. “So Roy’s not as nice to you now that you’re a chub?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m a chub,” Scotty replied. “I don’t look that much different. I don’t think it’s the reason why Roy’s been a bit off with me.”

Jed laughed, kissing his neck. “You’re so sweet and naive,” he whispered, holding Scotty like his own little plaything. “But you’re absolutely a chub now,” he teased. His flaccid penis was starting to get hard again, pressing gently between Scotty’s butt cheeks. “Everyone can see what a little porker you’ve turned into.”

Sensing Jed’s arousal was making Scotty feel more than a little horny himself. He didn’t know why Jed’s teasing and name-calling did it for him so much, but accepting what was said to him felt like the most beautiful submission. It was easy to lean into it. “So, Roy doesn’t like me anymore because I got so fat for you?” he asked. “Because I turned into a chub?”

Jed’s hardness was continuing to build. He started gyrating his hips and nuzzling into Scotty’s neck even more. “Say that again…” Jed moaned into his ear.

“I’m a chub,” Scotty repeated, feeling Jed’s hand stroking his semi encouragingly as soon as the words left his mouth. He moaned. There was so much more he wanted to do to turn Jed on; to submit himself to him.

“How does it feel being a fatty now?” Jed went on, enjoying his mastery over him.

Scotty moaned. How did it feel? He had the hottest guy in the world trying to make him squirt for the second time that morning, all because he’d gained so much weight for him. “Fucking amazing!” he blasted.

“Then gain more for me,” Jed ordered, seeming to have greater control over himself now than he had the previous times they had started to make love.

“You want me to get even fatter?” Scotty asked, finding it hard to even think straight with all  the stimulation. He rolled slightly, needing to look Jed in the eyes to see if he was serious. “How much fatter?” he asked, finally meeting Jed’s calculating stare.

“As fat and as blubbery as I want,” Jed answered, expertly keeping Scotty hard without climaxing, “I want you to be what I’ve been looking for my entire life. I want you to be my ultimate sub.”

“I want to be your sub,” Scotty nodded.

“Then you know what you need to do, right?” Jed asked him seriously; without a hint of humor or joviality in his face.

Getting back into the old routine wasn’t difficult. Jed had been overtaken by wild lust when Scotty had explained all the routines he had previously set up for himself in order to ensure he was consistently overdosed with calories and reduced his active periods. It made Scotty feel excited and validated that he had done so well in following Jed’s wishes. All he had expected was one last fuck from the hunk, yet here he was, with several messages from the guy on his cell phone and a hook-up planned for later that week. Gaining weight, doing as Jed asked, it had all opened up doors for him that Scotty didn’t know existed. He ripped open the lid of the whipping cream and began pouring. Chug, chug, chug. Just as Jed would want.

A few more weeks went by and the noticeable changes in Scotty’s body were the subject of many stares at Jed’s usual weekend party at his apartment. Perhaps it was all the cream Scotty had been drinking, or the consistent manner with which he had pushed himself to gorge, but the plush extra weight had settled itself squarely on his new gut and further softened up his chest. He looked genuinely bloated, as if his face and chins had yet to catch up to the tank that was being manufactured below. Jed also said that he could see it building in his butt and thighs, patting the glutes like a proud owner.

“You should hear some of the things Jed says about you when you’re not here,” whispered Jed’s other submissive, Sebastian, trying to get a moment alone with Scotty at the party. “He’s absolutely lost it.”

“How do you mean?” Scotty asked, helping himself to a beer. He didn’t feel in any way alarmed by the dramatic concern Sebastian seemed to be showing. He knew that none of Jed’s other subs liked him. They were jealous of how much of his time Scotty took up and the fact that Jed appeared only to have eyes for him whenever he was around.

“Scotty…” called Jed from across the room as he was chatting to someone else; never really letting him out of his sight. “Remember to snack on those breadsticks, baby.”

Sebastian waited until Jed’s eyes were away from them before he started speaking again. “I’m not sure you realise how into this Jed actually is,” he resumed whispering. “He’s obsessed about your weight. He talks constantly about your calories and how to ensure you don’t move around too much or exercise. It’s all he ever wants to discuss with the other guys.”

Scotty gnawed on a breadstick, enjoying the thought of Jed getting so aroused by him, even when he wasn’t around. 

“He showed me some kinky underwear he wants to make you actually grow into. I’m not joking. They were enormous!” he emphasised. “I think… I think he actually wants to make you… morbidly obese,” Sebastian finally stated.

Scotty looked at him, wondering what game the guy was trying to play. Was he trying to scare Scotty off so that things could return to normal around here? Sebastian had always been one of Jed’s favorite subs due to his surprisingly heavy, oversized rear. Was getting rid of Scotty his way of ensuring Jed paid him more attention instead?

“And?” Scotty asked defiantly.

Sebastian seemed taken aback. “And?” he repeated back to him. “Dude, look at yourself!” he demanded. “He’s had you eating the entire time you’ve been here. You’re seventy pounds fatter than you were when you met him!”

“Is everything alright, honey?” Jed asked, striding over and placing his large arm directly over his favorite lover’s shoulders. He stared at Sebastian, seming to sense what had been said.

“Your sub doesn’t really approve of what you’re doing to me,” Scotty answered him obediently, happy to throw Sebastian under the bus.

Jed straightened up a little, seeming more imposing by the second. “Is that so?” he asked Sebastian with a slight menace to his voice. The whole room quietened.

“He was telling me about some underwear you’ve bought for me to grow into,” Scotty further added, enjoying seeing Sebastian squirm.

“You tried to ruin the surprise for my fat boy?” Jed laughed, despite being clearly irritated.

“I was just…” Sebastian tried to defend himself. “I wasn’t sure that he knew everything!”

Jed tutted and shook his head in disappointment. “Oh, Seb!” he sighed. “You know that you’ll have to be punished, don’t you?” he asked the submissive boy.

Sebastian’s eyes lit up. “I do?” he asked hopefully.

Scotty felt a little tap on his butt and heard a whisper in his ear for him to go and sit on the big chair by the TV. Jed strutted to his refrigerator and opened the door, pulling out an enormous expensive-looking cream-covered chocolate cake on a large tray. “My pig needs feeding,” he explained disinterestedly, passing Sebastian the tray even though the young, relatively chubby submissive seemed genuinely surprised by the weight of it. “Make sure he eats it all,” he grinned. 

For a moment it seemed like Sebastian was ready to rebel. Jed’s face lit up at the silent challenge.

“Tell my pig I want him big, fat and greedy,” he demanded. “Otherwise… there’s fifty bucks by the front door. Take it and leave,” he smiled.

Sebastian huffed, walking with the tray over to Scotty and getting down on his knees. Then, in one single movement, he scooped his hand into the cake, filling his palm with it, before thrusting it towards an eager Scotty’s face. “Eat up!” he ordered, thoroughly defeated as Scotty began gorging from his hand.

The other dominant men in the room came over to pat Jed on the back. He’d handled the situation well; both his boys were now doing exactly as he wanted. Indeed, Jed looked on with pride, picking at Sebastian’s technique the entire time and laughing with the others in the room. “Don’t forget the frosting!” he called out, watching his two subs pleasing him like this. Needless to say, it was Scotty that had the honour of making it into his bedroom that night, leaving Sebastian to head home, unfulfilled.

Scotty couldn’t quite get over the quiet hostility towards him in work as he showed up for his shifts whenever Roy was around. Despite always dressing well for his increasing size with shirts and pants that fit properly, Roy would scowl at him as he began to take up more and more space behind the bar. “Move your ass!” the guy would shout across to him whenever he got in the way now, hiding him in the back to organise the stock as often as he could.

Jed would often come in during a shift, smiling extra brightly if Roy was ever there. No more free drinks were given, no protective swooping in from Roy to ensure Scotty stayed out of harm's way. “Do you like the improvements I’ve made?” Jed would goad him, pointing at Scotty’s chubby glutes as he trotted about serving the others.

“No, I don’t,” Roy simply replied, not wanting to even give Jed the satisfaction of looking him in the eye.

It all gave Jed such a thrill. “Well, that’s too fucking bad!” he’d laugh, sipping his beer and turning back to check out the guys in Roy’s club. He knew Roy would never bar him from coming in here. Given the way he looked, just having him there drew people in. It made perfect business sense.

At the end of the shift, Jed would be there, waiting to walk his property back home to his place. He’d be sure to kiss and handle him whenever Roy was about, always explaining that a take-out delivery was already on its way for when they got back.

“Is it bad that I would love to fuck you in front of your boss?” Jed laughed later, admiring his chub as he hungrily gorged for him after the shift.

Scotty laughed and nodded his head. “I’d say that would definitely get me fired!”

“So?” Jed asked seriously. “I was looking at the data from your smartwatch on my cell phone earlier. You got far too many steps in walking backwards and forwards behind that bar tonight. Why do you think I had to order you the extra garlic bread?”

Scotty swallowed, appreciating how erotic it was that Jed took such a keen interest in every aspect of his life; wanting to dominate all of it. “You want me to quit?” he asked.

“Definitely,” Jed nodded. “I need you to sit on that fat ass of yours more if I’m going to grow it out like I want.”

“But what would I do for work? I couldn’t afford my rent,” Scotty fretted.

Jed looked around his large penthouse apartment. “You’d move in here with me instead. I need you to give me twenty four hour access to all that blubber. I think it’s time, don’t you?”

It was already a done deal. After some simple seduction, playing with Scotty’s newly sensitive nipples, Jed had him messaging Roy, quitting his job right there and then. Then he messaged the boys he shared a place with, letting them know he was giving up his room. When the morning came, Jed had one of his minions head over to Scotty’s place and clear out his room; most of the clothes heading straight off to charity.

Scotty was expecting to be set up in Jed’s spare room and was surprised to learn that he was actually going to be staying in Jed’s own bedroom with him. The kinky hunk had bought himself the largest bed he could find and wasted no time in taking Scotty’s ever expanding and always softening butt anyway he could.

The effects of not working had been speedy. Under Jed’s orders, the amount of calories Scotty was consuming through liquids had dramatically increased. Each night Jed would study the chub’s body, captivated by the new stretch marks. Three hundred pounds had been a kinky goal for so long, yet it came and went rather rapidly under the new regime. There were new rolls and fleshy areas forming all over his frame. His body had become a playhouse to the handsome man he had been ensnared by, and he simply couldn’t imagine anything being more thrilling. Jed was insatiable. Walking around in only a tight pair of briefs pretty much guaranteed that Jed was going to fuck him wherever he was in the apartment. Several times, Scotty had walked by as Jed was on his cell phone making a business call. He’d been stopped in his tracks, purposefully bent over the desk and gently pounded without Jed ever losing his train of thought whilst speaking with the client.

The other subs, like Sebastian, had started to pile on a few pounds, making Jed laugh at their desperation for attention. Although many of the other dominant guys who hung out at Jed’s parties were no longer attracted by Scotty’s flabby form, the fat boy was still shown off in all his glory regardless; poked, prodded and teased for letting Jed transform him like this.

Derek was the only other dominant guy who seemed to really get off on the unusual form of domination Jed was mastering over his prey. Jed sought his advice often, being a few years older and the only one with any sort of experience in handling growing chubs.

“Every time I look at that butt I think it can’t get much bigger,” Derek marvelled, witnessing Scotty trotting over to join them on the couch. “And yet, there it is… fatter every week!” he laughed alongside Jed.

Jed grinned proudly, sliding his muscular arm over Scotty. “It’s almost the biggest ass I’ve ever fucked now,” he nodded, happy to take full credit.

“And just remember that scrawny little shit we watched you fuck all that time ago!” Derek chuckled.

“Just under eighteen months ago,” Jed nodded, mindlessly bouncing Scotty’s sagging chest as his huge arm draped over the boy’s shoulders. “He’s still shit at giving blow jobs, though,” he laughed, remembering how uninspired he had been that first night.

“Train him,” Derek shot back, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the most simple thing in the world. “It’s a lot easier with chubs.” He looked across at Scotty and all the fat he was now carrying in his face; a giant ring of fat under his chin. “They’re greedy little fuckers. Every last one of them. It’s simple.”

As suggested, Jed unbuckled his pants and spread his legs, fishing out his oversized erection for Scotty who was getting down onto the floor as if to start sucking him off.

“The thing with fatties,” Derek began, “is that they have saliva glands which are a lot easier to activate than most people.”

“Mmm! Wet, sloppy blow jobs!” Jed chuckled, looking at Scotty’s greedy little mouth. He reached out his hand, pinching the sides of Scotty’s mouth until his lips opened and his cheeks bulged.

“I hear your pig has quite the sweet tooth?” Derek asked, collecting a cupcake from the side and passing it to Jed who held it in his hand. “Just waft this under his nose to start with.”

Jed smirked and followed the advice. Instinctively, Scotty went to take a bite and was stopped by a very loud ‘no’ from both Jed and Derek; scolded like a naughty puppy. “Just smell it, Piggy!” Jed ordered.

Jed and Derek watched him with fascinated curiosity. Then, all of a sudden, they both simultaneously burst into laughter, almost making Scotty jump. It took Scotty a few moments to work out why they were chuckling. Had he swallowed his building saliva without even realising?

“It works every time with a fatty!” Derek laughed. He reached out and scooped a little of the frosting from the cupcake and smeared it over the tip of Scotty’s nose. “You need the pig to keep smelling it if you want it to keep producing the saliva.”

Jed was smiling excitedly, delighted by the tutoring. He reached out his large hand and lowered Scotty’s mouth onto his hardness, sighing with pleasure as the wet tongue began its work. Next,  Derek handed him a warm pizza slice from the box that had just arrived. Jed lowered it, holding it close to Scotty’s face as he sucked. Derek adjusted Jed’s hand a little, ensuring that the scent would be easily picked up by Scotty’s nose.

“Fuck!” Jed cried, jumping a little as a fresh wave of saliva lubricated his erection, allowing Scotty to slide his mouth effortlessly over as much of it as he could fit into his mouth. “This is fucking awesome!”

Derek smiled, resting his hand on Jed’s large shoulder. “You put in the hard work developing your pig’s appetite,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Now you can just sit back and enjoy it!”

Word was spreading that Jed was close to climaxing and the horny guests gathered around to watch, just as Jed liked. He moaned as loudly as Scotty had ever heard him, pulling out at the last minute so that everyone could see the giant jets as he came.

Thoroughly satisfied, slouching and exhausted, Jed lay there with a wicked smile plastered across his face. Scotty grinned, pleased to have been the reason for it. Not being able to please Jed with his mouth had been a constant source of shame for him. He reached out, picking the drooping pizza slice out from Jed’s hand and began nibbling. Jed watched on with nothing but pure love in his eyes.

The crowds attending Jed’s parties began to evolve. Pretty soon, Derek wasn’t the only admirer of the hunk’s hard work with Scotty. Other chub lovers, and the guys who were getting fatter for them, started replacing those more casually kinky men who used to be invited. Scotty found himself sucking down a greater variety of calorie shakes as the new acquaintances in this group gave Jed a variety of recipes to prepare for him. At over three hundred and fifty pounds, Scotty didn’t feel he had much to prove to these guys, nor the starter chubs they brought along with them. The focus became more about the food, which suited Scotty fine. His appetite and capacity was something everyone always complimented Jed for, elevating the hunk’s status to new heights.

Jed held Scotty from behind, one hand holding up his chubby neck in a way that pushed forward his double chin; his thumb gently caressing his cheek. Jed’s other hand gripped mercilessly onto his belly fat, jiggling and shaking it for all to see. “At least three shakes a day and these are the sorts of gains you can expect,” he told them all. “Have high expectations at all times. That’s how you grow out your pigs.”

Despite being a submissive, amongst the other fatties, Scotty felt he had a much greater status. He’d done it all, after all. They’d all seen the video someone had taken the first time Jed had fucked his skinny little butt, and they had all witnessed for themselves the monstrous appetite he could display for Jed’s pleasure. When he hit four hundred pounds, the submissives had all been ordered to feed him whilst the others watched on, shouting out orders.

Although Jed still went out to pick guys up when he pleased, never missing out on one of Roy’s ever skinny employees, it was always Scotty he came home to. When they went out to the gay venues together, the big jock never shied away from showing his affection and always sought a seat for his increasingly rotund lover in whichever bar they went to.

“Roy keeps on staring,” Jed chuckled, whispering into his fat boy’s ear. “When he goes out next, you’re going to have to move faster than I usually let you.”

Scotty nodded, excited to give Jed this fantasy. When instructed, he heaved his fat body up quickly and trotted behind his lover. Once inside the bathroom, Jed had undressed completely in the time it had taken Scotty to open his pants and pull them down enough to show his blubbery ass cheeks.

This was it: the final piece of the jigsaw, letting Jed take him here, in the place he had once worked. Kinky boys had already gathered around them, keen to watch Jed and his giant hardness at work. No doubt Roy would notice and follow in soon to throw them all out. But what did it matter? He hadn’t been Roy’s boy for a long time. 

He was Jed’s.

[motorsportbarbie13]

What's A Soulmate? - Part 2

In which you accidentally spend an extra year traveling the globe.

Warnings: Heavy on the mutual pining. JFC you two are down bad for each other. Pairing: Lando Norris x SainzSister!Reader Word count: 3.3k words

Part 1

Master List

July 2020

Austria 

“He’s 5 seconds ahead, Mr. Norris. Oh my God, he’s 5 seconds ahead of Lewis!” You murmur, hands clutching at the elbow of Lando’s dad as the Austrian Grand Prix winds down. 

“He’s got this, our boy is going to get his first podium of his career.” The pride and confidence in Adam’s voice sends a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. 

Somehow, your one year stint as your brother’s personal assistant had turned into two when you realized you had fallen in love with the world that you had found yourself in. Carlos had been resistant at first, wanting you to go back to university to get your degree but after a year on the road, you simply hadn’t figured out what it was you wanted to do. 

In the end, it had been Lando who had been the one to convince Carlos to agree to one more year traveling with them. University would always be there, he reasoned, and what was the use in sending you away if you didn’t even have an idea of what you wanted to do? Wouldn’t the real world experience you got working with elite athletes all over the world count for something when it was time to settle down and get a real job? 

In truth, Lando just hadn’t wanted to lose you. In the year that you had been in his life, the friendship that had blossomed between the two of you was one of Lando’s most important and meaningful relationships that he’d ever had. You could look at Lando and tell that something was off just by a singular tick of his jaw muscle. He could look at you and tell that you were losing your patience at his antics by the way your shoulders bunched up by your ears at the end of the day. So it had been completely selfish when Lando had gone to bat for you, simply because he didn’t want his best friend to leave his side. 

It had worked and Carlos had agreed, also not really wanting to lose you as such a fixture in his life as well. You and your brother worked together so well, you anticipating his needs before they were even a thought in his head. If he had his way, you’d spend the rest of your career managing his but he knew your parents would never go for it. 

Now, here in Austria, your best friend was one single lap away from landing his first F1 podium. Carlos was running in 5th and the energy in the McLaren garage was simply electric. The mechanics and engineers were all on their feet, waiting for the stewards to give the okay for them to run out to pit lane. You were tucked back in the garage standing next to Lando’s dad, who had traveled to Austria this weekend to see his son’s race. 

The checkered flag waves and tears stream down your face you’re so proud of both of your boys. P3 for Lando, P5 for your brother. Lando’s first podium of his career. The enormity of the moment washes over you as you follow Adam out into the pit lane. You watch through misty eyes as Lando pulls his car into parc ferme behind the little cardboard 3 sign. The pride that swells in your chest threatens to overtake any and all other feeling it’s so significant and strong. 

Here was the boy that you had spent countless nights consoling after DNFs and poor finishes, leaping out of the car after putting his car on the podium. You follow Lando’s dad over to the barricades, waiting patiently for Lando to get out of the car. His helmet is ripped off in record time as Lando’s eyes search for his team. The entire McLaren garage is there, waiting to celebrate this career best finish with him. Your stomach digs into the metal barricade, the cold steel biting into your bare skin, as you lean forward to catch a better glimpse of your sweaty best friend. 

The way your heart tumbles down to your toes when his gaze finds yours sends heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“We did it!” Lando crows, throwing his arms around his team. 

Adam is next and fresh tears roll down your cheeks at the tender hug that is exchanged between father and son. You’ve spent quite a bit of time with Adam and Lando this weekend and the bond that they share is something that is so special, it’s a blessing to watch. 

And then its your turn. The shy smile that flits across your face feels out of place in front of the boy that has your entire heart. “I’m so proud of you.” You murmur, eyes shining up at him, when his arms snake around your neck as he pulls you into a sticky hug. 

“Thank you.” He whispers back, lips dusting over your cheek in a very non platonic way that has your heart skittering into your throat. “I couldn’t have done it without you, pretty girl.” 

It’s just a quick moment between friends and it’s over before it really means anything to anyone else besides you and Lando but that moment after his first podium is something that you’ll hold on to for years to come. He’s your best friend and nothing more, you try to remind yourself as you watch him complete the rest of his post-race duties. Of course you were proud of him, that wasn’t weird to say. The hug that you shared, the quick peck on the cheek, both were the actions of two people that were practically inseparable but nothing more than friends. 

Lando never takes his eyes off of you the entire podium celebration. 

Italy

September, 2020 

“There is absolutely no fucking way I am getting on the back of that thing with you, Norris.” You stand just outside the McLaren motorhome, hands on your hips, staring at Lando like he’s gone completely insane. 

“Oh come on.” He groans, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. The fan stage is like a million miles away and we’re going to be late.” 

You stared at the electric scooter, one of twenty that had been gifts from Lando’s dad from his new company that had just launched. It was big enough to fit the both of you and was certainly fast enough to get you across the paddock to the fan stage in plenty of time but the idea of you zipping around with Lando Norris of all people piloting the electric scooter had anxiety settling deep in your stomach. 

“This is not going to end well.” You grumble. “If you break me, Carlos is going to be very unhappy.” 

Lando turns on that megawatt smile he’s known for, aiming it’s full strength right at you, something that you are utterly unable to protect yourself from. “You know I would never hurt you, pretty girl.” He coos, using that nickname that he’s grown so fond of lately. 

Which is a problem because you two are supposed to be strictly friends. You knew Lando was a flirt, had seen it in action so many times in the clubs on unsuspecting girls that you had lost count but he never seemed to turn on the charm with you like he did the other girls. Which was totally fine with you because there was no way you would want to get involved with someone you worked so closely with. Despite your close friendship, there was always an element of a professional boundary that you didn’t really want to cross. And Lando seemed like he didn’t want to cross it either. 

So, you ignored the swooping stomachs and toothy grins that he aimed your way, telling yourself that it was just because he was your best friend and saw you as the same. Even if he had tried to pursue something, it would have been a bad idea. You couldn’t imagine what you would do without Lando in your life and if a romantic relationship went south between you two, well…that simply wasn’t an option and you would’t even consider the fall out. It made you too anxious. 

Throwing your hands up in defeat, you approach the scooter somewhat apprehensively, not missing the way Lando’s grin grew about five sizes when he realized he had won the argument. But he wasn’t just happy that he had won the argument, he was ecstatic that you would now have an excuse to touch him, something that he lived for like a man starved. You never put a toe out of line when it came to your working relationship and Lando tried his best to respect that, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable in any way. Carlos would have his head and his balls if he ever made his baby sister feel any other way than safe but more than that, he valued your friendship more than anything else. If you wanted to maintain a strict platonic relationship, that was what Lando was going to accept. 

Lando is up on the scooter first, one foot braced on the pavement as you gingerly take one step and then another onto the back plank of the machine. Your fingers grip at his waist as you struggle to find your balance. “There you go.” Lando says, kicking off the pavement while engaging the little throttle on the handlebars. “Just hold on, I’ve got you.” 

You hate to admit it, but Lando was right: this thing was fun. You two rocket through the paddock, picking your way carefully though the late afternoon crowd. Your arms are tight around his waist as you lean into his strong frame, your safety utterly dependent on the man in front of you. 

Lando nearly bins it into Red Bull’s motorhome when you rest your chin on his shoulder, he’s so distracted. The sound of your laughter in his ear combined with the way the tips of your fingers grip at the waistband of his jeans send his senses into overload. 

“I hate to admit it, Norris but I think you were right.” You laugh, the whisper of your breath sending a shudder down Lando’s spine. “This thing is kind of fun. Do you think your dad would give me one too?” 

Not if Lando had anything to say about it because as far as he was concerned, riding through the paddock on the back of his, arms clinging desperately to his body,  was the only way you’d be getting around on one ever again. 

October 2020 

Portugal 

The pulse of the music in the club thrums through you, the alcohol you’ve consumed tonight blurring the edges of your vision in the most comforting way. You’ve been in Portugal for less than 24 hours and you already are in love with the country, having arrived ahead of media day tomorrow. 

From your spot on the couches in the VIP section, you watch as Lando approaches, your drink in one hand and his in the other. He had convinced you to come out with a few of the drivers tonight, using the fact that there had been a two week break before this race that you had spent in Spain while he had been in England. It hadn’t taken much to convince you as you had missed Lando during the break, even though you’d never admit as much. 

“Thank you, Lan!” You shout over the music when Lando hands you the glass full of vodka and sprite. 

“Anytime, pretty girl.” Lando says, slipping into the booth next to you. 

The burn of the alcohol slips down your throat as you listen to Charles prattle on beside you about something, focus really on the way Lando’s arm is pressed into your bare one. You had spent the entire break desperate for a break from his presence, the way he consumed most of your thoughts was starting to border on obsessive and you had thought you had done a good job of getting him out of your system. 

It only took 3 vodka and sprites for you to realize how wrong you were. This silly little crush had to stop though, you knew that. And if Lando had been aware of your feelings, he probably would have told you the same. He was always flirting with pretty models in the club, enjoying his status as a rich, single, professional athlete. There was no way he’d want to tie himself down to one girl, especially not to someone he probably saw as more of a sister than anything even remotely romantic. 

So you took what you could get: his friendship and basking in any and all attention he gave you. You tried to tell yourself that the sudden attention Charles was showing you tonight was a good thing, that you needed to find a distraction to get your mind off of the one person that seemed to wholly consume your every thought. 

“Do you want to dance, amor?” Charles murmurs in your ear, fully aware that your brother is sitting less than 20 feet away, watching the exchange with daggers shooting out of his eyes. 

Next year, Carlos was leaving McLaren and joining Ferrari but if he kept hitting on his little sister like he was, Charles was going to have some issues with his new teammate. 

Grasping at the opportunity to get away from Lando and the model that had appeared out of thin air that was sitting pretty on his lap, you practically leap up out of the booth, following Charles out onto the dance floor. The music pulses sensually around you as Charles brings his hands onto your hips, swaying to the music. With your drink in had, you attempt to lose yourself in the music and the feeling of Charles’ hands on your body, ignoring the fact that it isn’t working. 

From his spot at the table, Lando grips his drink so hard he’s surprised the glass doesn’t shatter. The moment you had gotten up from the booth with Charles, he had practically dismissed the girl that had been trying to stick her tongue down his throat in favor of watching you dance instead. 

“Everything okay there, Lando?” George asks as he takes the place vacated when Charles and you vacated the booth. “You look a little annoyed.” 

Lando shoots his friend a withering look before allowing his gaze to find you and Charles again. “‘M fine.” He grumbles. 

“Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?” 

Lando swings his head to look at George like he has three heads. “What are you talking about, mate?” 

“I see the way you look at her. Everyone does. You two are the worst kept secret on the grid.” 

Lando sets his drink down without taking his eyes off of you. “She’s just a friend and my teammates sister. Do you see the way Carlos is glaring at Charles? That would be me on the receiving end of that. No fucking way.” 

George just raises an eyebrow at Lando’s protest. “Whatever you say mate.” 

December 2020 

Bahrain 

“Lan, can we talk?” You ask, hands wringing together in front of you. 

The harsh lights above you light up the paddock, bathing the darkened desert in a fluorescent glow. You’d been looking for Lando for almost thirty minutes now, somehow losing him after qualifying had concluded an hour before. 

Lando instantly clocks the anxiety in your entire body as he exits out of McLaren’s hospitality building, brows knitting together as he approaches you. 

“Of course we can. Everything okay?” His heart thumps against his chest at the look of worry playing on your face. He doesn’t miss the way you worry at your lip before you answer him. 

“I just…we need to talk.” 

Lando grabs your hand, leading you away from the crowd. Even though the activities for the day have concluded, there are still so many people in the paddock and you know this isn’t the ideal place to have this conversation but you know if you don’t have it now, you’ll chicken out. Again. 

Lando leads you towards pit lane, knowing that most of the crowds have moved on from the garages and that you’ll find a quiet spot there. The silence that settles between you is not wholly unusual but tonight it feels different. Heavy almost. Lando can feel the bad news coming from a mile away and he suddenly just wants time to stop. Whatever you’re about to tell him is going to be bad, he can feel it deep in his bones. 

He finds a bit of pit lane that is deserted, save for a few mechanics chatting away after wrapping up their duties. “You’re making me nervous.” Lando admits as you hop up onto the low wall.

Lando steps between your legs, settling his hands on your hips as he looks up at you. This show of affection isn’t unusual between the two of you but truth be told having him touching you tonight makes what you have to tell him a bit harder. 

The words you have to tell him die in your throat as you lose yourself in his eyes for a moment. They’re darker blue gray tonight, the star filled night sky above making them seem like the ocean right before a storm. Which you supposed was appropriate for what you had to say now. 

“I’m not coming back next season.” You whisper. 

The words hit Lando like a physical blow. “What?” He stutters, fingers digging into the flesh at your hips almost painfully. 

Tears threaten to spill at the heartbreak in your best friend's eyes. “All this time spent with you and Carlos these past two years has changed me, given me so much purpose and direction and it’s time I move onto the next step.” 

Next step? Move on? Lando’s breath caught in his throat. You couldn’t move on from this. From him. He couldn’t lose you, his best friend in the entire world. You couldn’t leave him. His vision blurs a bit at the news and he’s forced to close his eyes for a moment. Panic races through him, bitter and quick like a snakebite. 

“What does that mean?” He grits out, the question coming out more harshly than he intends. 

“I’m going to study public relations in New York City in January.” Your voice is small in response to his obvious anger. 

Lando’s entire world tilts beneath his feet. 

“New York City?” He breathes, eyes shuttering closed to hide from you. 

You nod, a single tear slipping down your cheek at the absolute devastation on Lando’s face. You reach up to cradle his face in your hands, needing to touch him right now. “I won’t be gone forever and I’ll be at every race during the summer and all of the North American ones, I promise. It won’t be that bad.” The words tumble from your lips and you’re not entirely sure who you’re trying to convince that it’ll be okay. 

Lando’s face crumples as he leans forward, burying his head in the crook of your neck. He wants to ask you to stay. He wants to beg you not to leave him, that he needs you and doesn’t know how he’s going to function without your content presence. He knows he can’t though, he can’t say a single thing. He never would ask that of you because he knows you’d do it in a heart beat. He knows you’d change all of your plans for him if he told you how he felt. How he’s truly felt for damn near two years now. No, your friendship is too precious and your future is too important for him to tell you how head over heels in love he is with you. 

So, he keeps quiet and says the most soul crushingly thing he’s ever had to tell you. “I’m going to miss you so fucking much, pretty girl.” 

Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @charlesgirl16 @lieutenantchaos

[jaggedamethyst]

boy savor ⏳✨

ekko (arcane) x f!reader

content: ekko using time...to his advantage

18+ minors dni, smut, porn w/slight plot, edging, soft, (just trust me ik they sound different lmao), oral (f!receiving), complicated/ unlabeled relationship, angst, mentions of death, not proofread

notes: i am a timebomb truther but this is set after the whole ordeal so literally months if not a year or more after the finale...and no the title isn't spelled wrong just read it.

main master list

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You and Ekko found each other after everything. He’d lost his friend—and something more—when Jinx disappeared. Ekko had remained steadfast; she wasn’t dead, couldn’t be. You would nod, affirming him. You understood what others might deem delusion—and empathized with the desire to have someone be alive. 

For you, it was your dad. Like many others you were sent away—forced to join the herds of people who piled up to leave town. This came, of course, in spite of what you wanted. If it was up to you, you’d have stayed. You would’ve died alongside your father. Instead, you were left to wonder if he even actually was gone. With a body never actually being found it was hard to not think other wise.

The relationship between you and Ekko went unlabeled and remains that way. You both could agree, though, that in the midst of the pain the presence of each other filled a void that would persist for years. Deep down you knew that if Jinx did ever show up he would leave without a second thought. But the gentleness he held with you was enough to make the thought a throwaway. 

In a single word, you would quickly describe Ekko as tender. When you were together the just barely there touches and faint grasps made you feel light—as if you could escape him at any moment. Freeing yourself was the last thing on your mind, though. You’d stay with him, like this, in any timeline…forever.

“Can I try something?” Ekko spoke between breaths, lips kissing on the inner skin of your thighs. He’d paused his devouring of you to glance up, motioning next to him. 

“Uh huh,” you were close. The question hadn’t made a difference to you. You didn’t bother to look in the direction he waved. Whatever he did, whatever he intended to try—you would still unravel in a few seconds. If there was no other proof, the heat emanating off of you would be enough. 

A second later, the sound of a clattering filled the room. The fire in you tamed a bit and Ekko had his lips wrapped around your clit again. Just as he had before speaking up. You panted, feeling his breath fanning over you. He continued to move his entire mouth into you, sucking and moving up and down with an urgency that had your legs twisting erratically. 

Ekko slipped in two fingers, then, pulsing them in and out of you at a steady tempo that made you whine. The sound was melodic for him—it made him want to do this a thousand more times, and he would. 

“Can I try something?”

Without thinking, you replied, “Uh huh.”

The phrase felt sticky on your tongue, as if it had left a residue lingering there. You blinked, looking beside you as Ekko fumbled for the counter. He moved up your body, kissing over your chest as he pulled on a string. 

In an incomprehensible moment of time, his lips found you again. Ekko moved against you and you writhed as a result. He felt your body lift and looked up through his lashes to examine you. A smirk found the space between you, a sheen over the bottom half of his face. 

“What?” He asked as he moved a finger to push your clit up and down. The steady and slow pressure was one you loved—and it almost always had you fumbling for him like you were now. The heat found you, again, and gave you pause. A hand found the top of his head grasping at his hair for relief, the fleeting feeling of déjà vu causing you to yank his head up. 

“Ekko-“ 

“You said I could try something…”

Creating a tool to wield time in the palm of his hand was single handedly the pinnacle of Ekko’s existence and nothing else came close to it. Nothing except his ability to use it to his advantage. He loved the sensation of you pulsing against him, the inadvertent response to his body on yours. He could bask in the sound of your quickened breaths, survive off of the feeling of your fingers clawing at him. Every movement that even resembled you finishing for him made him desire the sight, feeling, and sound even more. 

He tapped around, finding the string much easier this time. He had, after all, done this before. Ekko’s fingers twisted and nudged the dial back an additional few seconds. You watched the world seem to warp around you and your sentience of the current moment seem to slip away. 

The sound of his name teetered on your lips again, dragging at the feel of your climax reverting back to being just on the edge of explosion. 

He was still so delicate with you, savoring every moment he had with you. He spoke quickly, “You okay?” 

You sucked in your own lips, stifling a moan. “Mhm.” 

“Knew you could handle it.” 

You nodded, not speaking but revelling in the feeling—inching on the precipice of finally finishing, again that was. 

Ekko had never done this before, tortured you so sweetly in this way. Going back every few seconds added a weight to you that was surprisingly comforting. Reverting to a moment in time, just before he had you fully undone, welled tears in your eyes. 

He licked and slurped you, his fingers again pushing in and out of you. Ekko let his other hand snake up and kneed into the warmth of your stomach. Your lower half began to match his rhythm, swirling up and around in circles. 

“I’m,” you sucked in a sharp breath, “I’m gonna-“ 

He heard the slurred words. The moist sound of your words was an indicator, too. Every detail about you was intoxicating. He couldn’t think too far ahead, just for now. 

Ekko became more fervent, speeding up every pace he’d found. You could no longer keep up; you let the feeling of him guide you. The once slowly building embers snapped in you and jolted your entire body in half—your spine finding its way away from the mattress. 

He crawled up, kissing your lips sweetly until he’d lost breath…and when he did, a crank filled the room. He’d kiss you forever if he could—and with time at the palm of his hands, he’d make sure this feeling would last a lifetime. 

[that-one-malereader-enthusiast]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 • 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

╰┈➤ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 ��𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐉𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚 𝐑𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 || inspo: @nickgoesinsane the post !!!

⟩ » Part One « | Part Two ⟨

cw : MDNI - S1 Lestat, flirting, suggestive content, top male reader, goofy male reader, bagged the baddie by being autistic aesthetic, mentions of sexual interactions, slight Louis jealousy, one-shot.

Thinking of how Lestat would so leisurely find his way onto your leg, his body pressed against yours almost similar to how a feline would greet another. How he would lean his head over as you'd whisper to him what others only wish they could hear.

Ears perking up at the melodic laughter from the blonde beauty himself. His hand having to cover his lips as to stifle his own joy, afraid he wouldn't be able to stop himself. Your mere words brought him joy, a rare feeling when it didn't come from either spiting others or showing off his many 'talents'.

You spoiled the man rotten from your presence alone.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Lestat had become absolutely enthralled with you.

Beforehand, he'd peered his way into your mind and saw you as nothing more than a simpleton who genuinely happened to stumble into a bar. Like a lost puppy, you seemed almost shy, scrambling for help in your mind as the bustling room seemed like a cry out of your comfort zone.

Oh how absolutely wrong he was.

By the time he'd occupied a seat next to you, the blonde man barely had enough time to introduce himself before you perked up and did so first. You were a bit of a motor-mouth, but a smooth one at that. Lestat seemed only partially annoyed as he practically got your life's story before saying a measly five words.

You were the perfect target for a good night, to sate both his needs of hunger. A gluttonous lust he'd have sprung on Louis if the man wasn't so tied up in his own family affairs at the moment. It couldn't have been laid out any better. You were alone, having moved from further down south to try and set up business, but you were lost and passing by.

You had no family or friends worried about you, you weren't of a high enough status to be searched for if gone for more than a day, and better yet, all your belongings were currently on you as you'd been trying to find a place to stay for the night.

Lestat did have to silence you for the moment as you rambled about your current situation. His nimble fingers seemed to caress your jaw, thumb place against your lips. "For such a handsome face, you speak more than you can breathe. Though I can't blame you, having to go through such a harrowing journey with no one willing to help you?"

You seemed to smirk behind his finger, a laugh leaving your slightly chapped lips. "Well, what can I say pretty boy? You simply took my breath away the moment you sat next to lil' ol' me."

Lestat was a bit surprised to say the least as you seemed openly okay with complimenting him in such a way. Many men, caucasian or colored, seemed to keep to themselves or explore behind closed doors. You? Your mind was open and unafraid, bold to say the least—though there wasn't a single degrading thought to behold at that moment, even as the conversation continued.

"Perhaps I could provide you a place for the night? I highly doubt you'd be willing to march to your destination after such a strenuous journey here, pauvre chiot..." Lestat removed his hand, one now tapping against the bar while the other lingered against your open thigh.

"That's mighty sweet of you! So, how could this poor country boy ever repay you for such a kind gesture mista..." You droned on, hoping he'd fill the space in order to finally introduce himself.

"Lestat, Lestat de Lioncourt," he practically purred out.

"Pretty name for an even prettier face. Ya' don't sound like you're from here yourself mister Lestat. Got a story of your own to tell?" You'd now seem almost infatuated with this man who'd barely begin to speak to you, much less offer a place to stay. In the back of your mind, you knew that it was a ploy to sleep with you, maybe even take some of your belongings, but the man seemed much too proper and seemed to hold himself to a higher standing than to be a petty thief.

"Oh, but would you rather I bother you with something more than a story, mon cher?"

"Maybe, but only if you explain what you just said. Sounded somthin' like you were callin' me a cherry. Not to disappoint you, but ain't the first time I've been called a fruit, I'll tell ya that." That seemed to get a genuine chuckle from Lestat, making the smile on your lips widen.

The blonde individual shook his head as his laughter died down. "It seems you are not familiar with the tongue I speak in. Just as it seems you are just as unfamiliar with the French quarter as well."

"I wouldn't mind becoming familiar, whether it be with your tongue or otherwise," you quipped. "I can do much more than yappin' yer ear off, but I do enjoy your voice much more than hearing my own. Wanna get out of this joint? Doesn't seem much like your style Lestat."

If it was an excuse to finally get you alone, he'd take it. As if you were already mesmerized by the devil in disguise, the two of you left the establishment and into the darkness of the night.

Even though you spoke to an extent that would annoy any congressman who'd have told debate against you, Lestat seemed to grow fond of the conversation, as well as the praises you seemed to give. You followed him willingly, though it wasn't much of a surprise to Lestat. There were people that simply swooned over him via their first meeting, but you were different.

Yes, you were charismatic, a bit awkward, and yes, a chatterbox, but your sudden infatuation with Lestat was odd to him. He couldn't see any current thoughts that were of the sexual variety, just genuine curiosity.

So he amused you with a short tale of his own travels, walking side by side in no direction in particular. He was simply biding time before eventually giving your life an end. Though he couldn't have imagined that an hour later, he would be settled in an empty field laying in the grass with you, laughing his heart.

"Chéri, how would he have even gotten his head stuck in such a place?"

"Beats me! Believe me, I called him shithead plenty of times, I just didn't think he'd take it in such a literal sense. Look, and that cow? I felt even worse for her." You ended as you recounted a story from your hometown. "You also keep calling me chair? Are you being funny? Look, you can sit on me, all you had to do was ask honestly—"

"Mon Dieu, you will be the end of me," Lestat wheezed out before sitting up. "I have not laughed like this in a very long time." Rubbing his jaw, he could barely feel an ebbing of aching in his cheeks from how hard he'd smiled before, his stomach tending from how tickled he'd become. "And no, I am not poking fun at you mon cher. Your humor isn't the least bit boring unlike some unruly men I've come into contact with. I assumed you simply had lines to try and...take off with me."

Your face flushed at the idea. "Well, you were also laying it on thick yourself Lestat. Didn't know if you wanted to help me or...somethin' else. I mean, I'm flattered, surprised too. What's a pretty thing like yourself doin without someone on your hip. I mean—you're proper as hell, a real gentleman if anything. A flirt too, charming, handsome, cute, radiant even. You're a diamond compared to the dull coin I am."

Lestat seemed even more surprised at the compliments he was getting, yet you seemed to neglect your own self worth. "Even coins are valuable, dull, dirty, or not. Why do you put yourself down so?"

There was a cloud of despair in your mind for a moment before a sad smile appeared upon your face. "Today could be my last for all I know. I haven't made a name for myself here, and if I were to disappear tonight well...what mark would I have made? You know me as this country bumpkin ya met at the bar? You'll forget about me tomorrow as if I never existed."

You weren't wrong, Lestat had planned to simply get rid of you then and there, but now you'd peaked his interest. "If...you were given the opportunity, to achieve what you'd like, would you take it?"

"No questions asked."

"Even if you had to make a deal with the devil himself?"

"I'd ask him to throw in beaut like yourself, I'd be all in."

Lestat felt a grin appear on his lips at your mere words. "You don't have much hesitation do you?"

"I've got nothing to lose. Go big or go home, right?"

"Indeed Mon cher."

Suddenly Lestat pounced, smashing his lips against yours in an almost bruising strength. You took it as a sign, knowing that tonight would mostly likely end in the two of you sleeping together. His tongue slipped into your mouth, now fighting for control as your own hands came to hold his waist. The kiss was heated, abit sloppy, and by the time Lestat pulled away, you were breathless and flushed down the neck. The moonlight gave way to his silhouette as he stayed hovered above your face.

"Are ya sure you want this Lestat? I've been told I'm a lot to handle."

"You've been so bold and quite forward all night, don't tell me you're getting shy now," a grin appeared on Lestats' face, his fangs peeking from behind his slightly swollen lips.

"Don't say I didn't warn you.."

♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　°

Lestat seemed to stare at the headboard of the bed, almost lost in thought as just as he felt breathless. He only snapped back to reality as he felt a warm breath and kiss against his bare shoulder.

"You still with me Lestat?" Your voice was much softer, tender as you nuzzled against the nape of the others neck, the sheets covering both of your lower halves as your body hovered above his.

Blinking, the blonde seemingly loosened his grip on both the pillow and the sheet beneath him. He'd slept with others who also seemed full of themselves, but now the tables had turned. He was practically filled to the brim with your sheer girth alone, pressing against his more sensitive places. His tongue ran over his lips, lapping up the leftover drops of blood that filled his throat mere moments ago.

"I told you we could have gone slow...you're not hurtn' are you?"

Lestat was taken aback by your demeanor. Not many people seemed to care for his well-being, especially during sexual escapades such as these. "Mon cher, do you often become this worried about those you sleep with?"

"Couldn't say. You're...the first," your face completely bloomed at the sudden confession.

Lestat however was completely dumbfounded. You did not act like a virgin in bed. He would have never assumed it was your first time, not with the way you completely ravished his body by the time the two of you made it through the front door. Your touch like silk, finding every weak spot and milking it for all its worth.

A groan left the blonde's lips as you'd shifted, though he knew you'd be slightly dazed and possibly inebriated as you were unaware that he'd fed from you tonight. "Dieux, you must be humoring me again, no?" Even peering into your mind once again, he had seen the truth, and knew that you spoke of no jokes.

You made a small noise, but shook your head as you buried your face within Lestats' neck, kissing his warm skin and even up to his jaw. "I hope I'm not disappointin' ya..."

"Merde..."

Lestat didn't expect you to be a literal bucking bronco, but he couldn't deny how you made him feel. Physically, it was as if you were bringing heaven up on his flesh, every touch, flick, lick, almost other worldly. Emotionally...he didn't understand. By daylight you'd be dead, he was sure of it, that he'd have his fun and dispose of you before morning.

Though at the moment it didn't seem as if you were out of energy. A bit sluggish yes, but a certain part of you was ready for more. "Lestat..'" Muttering against his skin, your hips rutted upwards, making a heavenly noise leave the man below you. "You can be on top this time if you want..."

♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　°

Three months ago, Lestat questioned his morality, though it wasn't the first time he did so. He always entertained Louis and even then, the humans around him weren't much worth the time or space when it came down to their needs or wants— whether it was self loathing, craving of sex, the need for food, or the wanting of home to go back to. They were all the same. It was the same with everyone he'd stumbled upon.

"Another round of drinks for the booth Chéri!"

Lestat found himself sitting on your leg, practically draped over you like a coat, his head tilted against yours. The spoils of laughter and joy you'd brought him within such little time was uncalled for, but granted, he never imagined someone like you would stumble into his life alongside Louis.

He saw no need to change you, though his eyes were set on someone else for such an event. You knew of his secret, and kept it to yourself. The nights where he'd come to see you, having dealt with racist snobs or uninteresting people, you were there to cleanse his boredom.

Though the two of you slept with each other quite often, you would never let him leave without pampering him after. And Lestat enjoyed every minute of it. Your sweet words, the true sincerity that you felt for him, that you loved him. Though it was hard to tell with Lestat if he felt that same way, or if he just adored you like any other human he might keep for entertainment.

Within the last few months the two of you had become business partners, having made a nightclub out of an old townhouse set to be demolished. Many strings had been pulled to get things up and running, but even then it happened to be a successful mission for both men. There was music, dancers, singers, all sorts of entertainers that came in to perform, and many people paid top dollar to come in.

Even Lestat had days where he'd perform on stage. To say he loved to peacock was an understatement.

This nightly job was as thrilling and fun as your nights in the town. Unfortunately, you were a horrible driver. Lestat had never been so unnerved about someone driving, and you? "A better lover than a driver I suppose?"

"I believe so ma chérie, I believe so..." It's safe to say that Lestat would be driving you around while you'd stay being his passenger princess.

Louis watched on from the other side of the half circle booth he sat in, his eyes narrowing at you as you practically wore Lestat, and the man let you. He couldn't understand what was so special about you. In his eyes, you were the same as him, maybe a little less.

Even as you'd been introduced to Louis, the two of you had never met eye to eye. Maybe it was because Lestat seemed to visit him just slightly less often than he did before you showed up. Maybe it was because he barely went out with Louis anymore because he was too busy riding you. With a glass in hand, Louis stared you down as you whispered something with Lestats' ear. He couldn't help but to wonder, seriously, what do you see in that guy?

Lestat stifled a laugh as he pressed the back of his own hand against his mouth. His piercing gaze seemed to shift over to Louis as his thoughts spoke much louder than others. The blonde couldn't help but to grin, pulling you in closer.

"He makes me laugh!"

"Hm?"

"Nothing ma très chère."

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

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please do not repost my content on other sites and platforms. thank you. © @that-one-malereader-enthusiast ||

more fics from interview with the vampire » IWTV Masterlist

more from @that-one-malereader-enthusiast » Masterlist

Like, Comment, Or Reblog. || A/N: Thank you for reading! Any comments or notes help motivate me to post more often like this! Unfortunately I tend to overthink lots of my writings, which lead to me not posting or becoming unmotivated. This was written out as an imagine but I got carried away! Hope you all enjoyed! Will maybe edit and clean it up later!

[h4sanz]

obey me! visuals - pt. 1

characters: demon brothers

warnings: f!reader, penetration, oral (both giving and recieving), impact play, exhibitionism, degredation, bdsm, filming, name calling, orgasm control

a/n: rlly horny rn and wanted to share my thoughts bc i’m always right /j

LUCIFER

link — he can’t wait any longer. lucifer had gone long enough without you, his favorite human. the first thing he does when you get to his room is toss you onto the bed and rip every single article of clothing off of you. he pounds into you like there’s no tomorrow, whispering how much he missed you and your little cunt while you were away in the human world. “my sweet little thing, missed you and your pretty cunt so fuckin’ much. now you’re gonna be good and let me use you for as long as i want, okay?”

link — fucking into you and ferociously rubbing your clit on the couch while his brothers are home.. he needs to make sure you know who you belong to. curses hit your ears as he raves about how you need to be quiet, but hits that spot that he knows makes you cry out every time. “you must really want them to hear you, huh? i knew you were a slut, but i didn’t think you’d be this pathetic.”

MAMMON

link — one thing about mammon, is that he loves being able to show off that you’re his. he absolutely loves to record you: the way you ride him and shout for him. he can’t help but rut into you when you moan his name so prettily. “fuck, yer’ perfect. that’s right, keep bouncin’ on my cock like that.”

link - he absolutely loves making love to you in this position, sucking your tits into his mouth as you grind on him. his hips will stutter when you praise him, telling him how he’s such a good boy and doing so good. he’ll whine into your lips as he kisses you passionately, you running your hands through his hair and softly tugging. “i’m your go—fuck, your good boy. love you s’much.”

LEVIATHAN

link - he will be an absolute mess. every time he dies in game and you let go of him, tears start spewing from his eyes as he cries and begs for you to touch him again. once he finally wins a game, he’ll make a huge mess on himself, overstimulation making him buck his hips up into your hand. his head falls back onto your shoulder, panting heavily. “please, let me c–cum, mc. i’ll be so, s’good for you.” “t–too much! can’t take ‘nymore,” he’ll cry out with red, puffy eyes.

link - he fucks into you with all of his might on the days his envy gets the best of him, especially when one of his brothers blatantly flirts with you to mess with him. he’ll talk down on them as he slaps your face, then moving to hold onto your throat, softly squeezing. he grips your waist so tight there’ll be bruises on your skin for days. “those fuckin’ normies. always doing shit to piss me off, even messing with my baby. you must be a major slut to let them, huh? i know you saw them looking you up and down; when you noticed i saw how you perked up, actin’ all sexy for them.”

SATAN

link - he loves making you ride him before fucking up into you instead. he understands your stamina is nowhere near close to his, but you can’t even ride him properly? and it’s only been 3 rounds! he either has to be gripping a leash he’s attatched to your collar or forcefully holding you, whether it be your neck, wrists, hips, etc. and the way you moan so beautifully when he slaps your face and body has him enthralled. needless to say, you’re lucky if he ends at just round number 4.

link - this is when he’s feeling more intimate. he tends to get really touchy when he’s needy, caressing and gripping your body, sliding his thumb into your mouth whilst whispering about how you’re made for him and such a good kitty. he’ll call you absolutely pathetic for how desperate you are for his touch, whoring yourself out just for him and no one else.

ASMODEUS

link - this is his favorite thing ever. please force him to stare at himself as he makes the most vulgar faces and sounds for you. make him watch the way your fingers perfectly wrap around his pretty cock and jerk him off, hand gliding up and down with fervor. then call him a little whore right in his ear for coming so easily to the sight of himself. “oh, what a little slut you are. coming that easily?” “please, please let me come again! feels so good!”

link - you saw this coming the moment he asked you to meet him in his bathroom. pleasuring his human whilst also bathing them, sign him up! he’ll read out comments, sometimes copying what they say with him own ministrations. “oooh, this person wants me to edge you today. shall i, my pretty?”

BEELZEBUB

link - this man has an oral fixation, he always needs to be sucking on something. so what better thing than your tits? it makes you feel good, so why the hell not. cowgirl is 100% his favorite position ever because he gets to watch your face as you ride him and as he occasionally nibbles on your nipples, causing a cute little whine to fall from your lips.

link - is he hungry? yes. but he also always craves you. one second he’s asking if you could make him something to eat, and the next he’s right up behind you, pulling your pants down to begin thrusting into you. he’ll be sucking along your neck as you try to focus on making his food, to no prevail. “b-beel! hold on a min– fuck! a minute.” “i can’t wait mc.. i need you right now.”

BELPHEGOR

link - his pathetic moans are all that can be heard as he trys to fuck up into you. he’s trying, and you can’t deny that. but you end up taking matters into your own hands, beginning to grind up and down. however, the position makes it almost impossible to stay focused on your task, the tip of his cock pressing right into that spot deep inside of you. “oh, please don’t stop, you feel so good, mc.”

link - his mind is blank. the feeling of you wrapped around him as he’s on the brink of exhaustion is overwhelming. he feels way too good to fall asleep but he feels if you continue this much longer, he might just pass out. he’s come twice already. the sensitive boy just wants you to keep going but his brain is too empty to make out words :(

© h4sanz 2024

[munsonsmixtapes]

This could be just my hormones going insane but I just need a fix of Steve/eddie (or both) giving reader some loving cause all of her friends are having babies and she’s feeling a little bit frustrated it’s not happening with her. Either of the boys end up catching the vibes so they doo all they can to help our girl out and it sticks

What I would GIVE!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) grinding, breeding kink, creampie, mention of pregnancy, hurt/comfort, cockwarming

Having a baby isn’t something you’ve ever really thought about. Your life has always been so you haven’t really had the time, but as you’ve gotten older, you’ve begun to wonder if maybe you wouldn’t mind having a little one running around. You see the tiny little clothes when you’ve gone shopping and your heart bursts. At restaurants, you’ll see the cute little families and wonder what if that could be you?

Your baby fever get even worse when one of your close friends who just had her first child invites you over to meet him. The second she puts him in your arms and his tiny hand wraps around your finger, that's it. You just know you want one of your own. A little baby that you would raise until they eventually would venture out in the world on their own.

But that's all a pipe dream in your eyes. That would never happen for you because you’re single and sperm donors and adoptions can be tricky. So you're just stuck thinking about it for the rest of your life, just hoping, wishing that it'll miraculously happen.

You spend the whole drive home sobbing. You can barely even see through your tears, but you somehow make it home to your apartment that you share with your best friend, Steve. And for once, you hope he isn’t home, because there's no way you can tell him why you're crying. It'd be way too embarrassing.

So you wordlessly hurry to your room where you bury yourself under your covers as the sobs pour out of you. You feel so pathetic for crying about something like this, but you can't help it. It just hurts way more than it should.

There's a knock at the door and you're so glad that you locked it. You really can't talk to Steve right now. He just wouldn't understand. You know that he would be understanding and sympathetic like always, but this time, it would be even better if he was actually experiencing what you are.

"Hey, y/n," he says from the other side of the door and you can just imagine him with furrowed eyebrows, the look he always gets when he's upset. You know you've hurt his feeling by shutting him out, but this is for his own good. He doesn't want to have this awkward conversation with you. You're sure of it.

"I know you're upset about something so I uh, I made you that hot chocolate you like." He's so sweet that it makes your heart ache sometimes. What did you do to deserve a best friend like him?

You throw the covers off of you and make your way to the door. You unlock and open it to reveal Steve's sympathetic smile. He holds the mug out to you and you take it, taking a sip before heading back to your bed, Steve sitting next to you, but making sure to keep some space between the two of you.

Just like always, the silence isn't awkward between the two of you as you sip on your beverage and he just sits there. You set the mug on your desk then sit next to him again, this time to where your thighs are touching and you lean your head on his shoulder.

His arm wraps around your arm, his hand moving lazily up and down it as a way to comfort you. You can't help but let you mind wonder what it would be life if Steve was the father of your child. You're he'd be the perfect candidate, but you're sure that he'd think it was weird. His best friend wants to have a baby with him? That's definitely out of his comfort zone and you know it.

"You wanna tell me what's bothering you?" No fucking way. you're taking that shit to the grave. You've got to make something up, and fast.

"Just womanly stuff, you know how it is," you sniff, feeling tears streaming down your cheeks again. You do your best to try and pretend that your stomach is cramping and Steve is quick to pull you into his lap.

His rests is hands on the lower part of your stomach where he knows they get really bad and he begins to massage the area to relieve some of the pain. He always take sure good care of you and that's how you know that he would be a great dad.

You think about him doing the exact same thing when your stomach starts showing, talking to the baby and you suddenly feeling wet between your legs. You're staring to see Steve in a different way and you're not entirely sure how to feel about it.

"How does that feel?" He asks, looking down at you and suddenly, every single thought is replaced by your need to know what his lips feel like. They look like two pretty, pink pillows and you just can't stop staring.

“I’m not really cramping,” you tell him, feeling guilty that you lied to him. “I uh, I was actually upset because-well, because everyone around me is getting married and having children and I just-that’s what I want. I just want a family, Stevie.”

You look so heartbroken and Steve can see your eyes welling up again. He suddenly gets an idea, but he knows it’s crazy. When you mentioned having a family, clearly he wasn’t supposed to be in the picture. But now that it’s come to his mind, he can’t stop thinking about it.

He’d be honored to have a baby with you. He just knows you’d be an amazing mother, especially when he’s seen you with the kids in his family at different Harrington functions. Now that he’s thought of it, he can’t unsee it. Now he’s got to see it through. That is, if you agree. And why would you? The idea really isn’t something that he should be suggesting to his best friend, but what the hell?

“What if we had a baby?” He asks, his honey eyes boring into yours and you swear you just might melt. He’s so sweet sometimes that you don’t feel like you deserve him. He takes your silence as his answer and quickly tries to backtrack. “Just forget I said anything.”

“No, Steve,” you grab hold of his face in your hands, forcing him to look you in the eye. “I’d love to have a baby with you. Honored, actually.”

“You would?” His face lights up and you can’t help but laugh at how adorable he is.

“Yes,” you nod.

You move so that you’re straddling his lap while his hands rest on your waist. Shit, you’re really doing this and Steve can’t hide his excitement. This might be the smartest thing he’s ever done.

You make the first move, leaning down and bringing your face to his, slowly capturing his lips with yours. He's quick to respond, trying to match your pace as his lips move against yours. Yours are soft and he's convinced that this is the best kiss he's ever had. You know exactly what you're doing and he's just desperate for more.

Just as he melting into you, he feels you grinding against his crotch and he lets out a whine, already feeling himself getting hard. This has to be a record for sure. He lets you do what you want, loving everything you're doing so far.

His tongue slides into your mouth and he swears he's going to come just from hearing you. It's so hot and now that he's hearing it person and not on the other side of the wall when you pleasure yourself, he's sure it's even hotter because he's the cause of it.

“God, you’d look so pretty,” he sighs against your lips. “So fucking hot. And I’d praise you any chance I got.”

He’s saying all the right things and now you think you’re ready. You’ve-you’ve never done anything like this with Steve, but something about it feels so good, so right.

Your top comes off and it’s thrown to the side as Steve takes advantage of your now exposed skin. He kisses and nips at chest as you melt in his arms, mewling at every touch of his lips.

He slips the straps of your bra off of your shoulders and continues his kisses there, mixing in his lips with it as your hands grab hold of his biceps, digging your fingers into his skin.

“So fucking pretty,” he mumbles against your skin and you flush, feeling hot from both his compliments and his soft lips. “Now let me see you.” He unhooks your bra and pulls it away from your body to reveal your bare chest.

Your nipples are hard and Steve’s mouth waters as he thinks about how badly he wants them in his mouth. They’re practically begging for it as your back arches, moving your body from side to side, his gaze following you.

Without warning, Steve grabs hold of your waist and turns your bodies so your back is flat against your bed, him on top of you. He goes straight for your nipple, taking it into his mouth, giving it a hard suck as he pins your arms to the bed.

You gasp as the feeling and Steve continues, introducing his tongue as he licks and sucks on your nipple, one of his hands moving to massage the other one so it gets some attention as well.

Your back arches against his as a pretty moan falls from your lips and he takes that as an invitation to continue. He bites down hard and you mewl, your fingers gripping the bedding underneath you.

“That’s a pretty sound, baby,” he compliments as he pulls away for a split second. “Wanna make it again?”

“Please,” you whine and he goes in again with another as you let out another moan. Once you’ve reached your peak, he moves onto the other nipple, doing the exact same routine until you’re orgasming again, grabbing onto his shirt, trying to pull it off of him so you can proceed.

Steve’s shirt is off in an instant and he kisses his way down your torso slowly, giving your stomach special attention. He peppers it with kisses as he showers you with the sweetest words, wanting to make you feel special, to know that he really wants this and isn’t just doing it because he should.

“You’re gonna be such a great mother,” he starts off, pressing a kiss to the spot right above your belly button. “I’d be honored to raise a child with you.” Another kiss to the spot. “Fuck, I’m gonna love filling you,” is what he finishes off with before pressing a kiss to the spot right above your jeans. He then unbuttons them and you just now you’re a mess now, feeling your slick rolling down your legs.

Your jeans are off in an instant followed by your panties and Steve undressed himself before spreading your legs wide, lining himself up with you before slowly inserting himself. It’s a tight fit, but by the time he’s done with you, you’re going to be so loose.

His pace is slow as he takes his time, watching you so intently to make sure that you’re okay. You’re more than enjoying yourself, it seems as you moan and whine, your nails scratching down his back. Steve didn’t realize just how much he loves not using a condom, feeling every single part of you against him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he says as his thrusts pick up, moving even faster, inch by inch trying to get all of himself inside you.

“Haven’t done this in a while.” It’s at least been a couple of months.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll loosen you up in no time.” He’s pumping even harder and faster now, trying to get to a pace that the two of you will enjoy and continues at that pace as you respond positively.

“And look at that. You’re taking me so well.” He’s moving so fast now that the bed is squeaking underneath you, moving back and forth with every pump and you’re eating it up, needing feel all of him.

“More,” you whine and Steve just chuckles.

“Can’t go any faster than this.”

“No, Steve, more.” You grab hold of his hips and push him further inside you, bucking your hips against his so he gets the hint.

“You got it, sweetheart,” he winks. “Sure I’m not gonna hurt you?”

“I want you to. I just need to feel you. Want you to fill me.” You buck your hips again and again as the two of you work together, trying your best to get the other off.

He’s all the way inside you now and you can feel tears pricking your eyes as you can feel every single inch of him, so sure that he’s going to split you apart. Not that you mind. That would actually be the best way to go of you’re being honest.

“Taking me so well. Look at you, so close to coming. I can see it. Fuck, you’re beautiful. Gonna look even more beautiful with my baby. Gonna-“ his words are cut off as he reaches his own orgasm. He releases inside you and you watch him come undone, curling his head towards his chest as his eyes shut tight. His fingers are digging into your waist and you push his hair away from his sweaty face as he’s coming down.

He’s got just enough energy for little more. Just enough to get you there. He’s moving as hard and fast as he can, watching you come undone underneath him. You’re so pretty, the perfect mother for his child.

As soon as your orgasm is over, Steve lowers himself down onto, not even bothering to pull out because he just wants to be this close to you for a little longer. His lips find yours in a gentle kiss before he lays his head on your chest, your fingers running through his hair.

You spend the rest of the night like that before cuddling up in your bed, the two of you discussing baby names, deciding that neither of you care whether it’s a boy or girl.

Nine months later, you welcome your baby girl into the world. Steve is right by your side the entire delivery and seeing you hold her for the first time, he’s sure that you’re going to be an amazing mother and he’s so excited to navigate parenting with you.

[ylangelegy]

all of the while, it was you ꩜ hyunjin x reader.

── .✦ 💌 reader uses she/her pronouns. includes: idol!hyunjin, café owner!reader, feelings realization, freeform, time skips, fluff, coffee shops & cafés, slice of life, skz ensemble.

── .✦ 🚏 i know the "i-had-no-idea-you-were-an-idol" trope is one of the oldest, most worn clichés in the book, but sometimes you have to release the corny fic into the world so it can stop haunting you 🙂↕️ the title is from landon pigg's falling in love at a coffee shop. originally posted on ao3, but then i orphaned it (lol) so here's its new home! ♡︎

── .✦ 📟 wc: 4,000+

She doesn’t admit this to Hyunjin until much later on, but when he walked into her café the first time, she had thought— as one usually does— that this ethereal boy should be a star of some sorts. A model, an actor.

Where others might have spoken up, she chose to keep it to herself. (A good choice, too. If she had said anything, Hyunjin would have never returned.)

He is shy, at first. He sits at a table far from the door and spends most of his stay doodling in his notebook.

Outside, snow begins to fall.  

Hyunjin gets on his phone to call Jeongin over. She steps out from behind the counter and lingers by the window. 

Separately, they admire the sign of the times. Hyunjin thinks of romance that can be painted. Her mind goes to warm drinks that can be sold. Briefly, the two share a glance.

They exchange no words— not a single pleasantry about the weather— but Hyunjin does offer up the smallest of smiles, which she returns. 

He goes back to his phone. She retreats to the kitchen. 

Neither of them have any idea of what was ahead. 

That day, they witness the first snow of the year together. 

Hyunjin becomes a regular. 

He’s never done that before. The most he’s been to an establishment is probably twice, thrice, before the place is overrun with fans and he has to find a new hiding spot. 

He doesn’t want to sound ungrateful. But there are some things he wants to keep to himself, and this café is one of them. He doesn’t realize how often he’s gone until, one evening, the barista at the counter says, “Your usual?” instead of waiting for him to speak.

“Yes, please,” he says. He slides over the exact payment and sits at the table he likes the most. 

Through trial and error, he figured that the café had little to no people nearing its closing time. And so he only ever stopped by in the evening, usually after practicing stages and before heading home. 

She serves him his drink, his ‘usual’, and Hyunjin blurts out something that’s not his average ‘thank you’ and ‘please’. 

“What’s your name?” he asks, because this is not the type of café where the barista has a name card on their apron. He flushes and goes on. “It’s just— I don’t think I ever got your name.” 

She laughs kindly and answers. It’s a pretty name, Hyunjin thinks to himself.

“And you?” she inquires politely. 

There’s a seed of suspicion in him, a flicker of doubt. Did she really not know him? He had been tricked before by people feigning ignorance.

But her expression is curious, and earnest, and he decides to give her the benefit of doubt. 

“Hyunjin.” 

“Hyunjin,” she repeats, as though testing the name out on her tongue. A fleeting thought passes his mind: My name sounds safe with her. 

She smiles. “It’s nice to finally know you, Hyunjin. Thanks for always coming to my café.” 

“This is yours?” he says, a little dumbstruck. He had assumed she was just an employee. 

“It is.” There’s a proud gleam in her eyes. “It’s always been my dream to own one, and here I am.”

“It’s one of my favorite places,” says Hyunjin. He’s not even exaggerating; he means it. He adores the floor-to-ceiling windows, the intricate woodwork, the potted plants in every corner.

Her smile brightens, widens. She thanks Hyunjin and is about to say more when the bell by the door chimes. “Oh, a customer. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s no problem. Go ahead.” 

She rushes over to the counter. Hyunjin sinks a bit into his seat, doing his best to avoid the newcomer’s gaze. 

That day, Hyunjin learns how a name can make a world’s difference. 

One evening, Hyunjin asks her, “What kind of music do you like?”

She looks up from bookkeeping and tongues the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. She names a handful of genres, none of which might fit the bill for Stray Kids. 

Over the past weeks, Hyunjin had gotten to know her. Her love for coffee and baked goods. Her impulsive decision to move to Korea. Her loneliness, dulled only by the steady flow of patrons visiting her shop.

There are still some weeks where he thinks it’s too good to be true. To be undiscovered this long, to meet someone who didn’t know a thing about his industry, to strike up a friendship that had nothing to lose but everything to gain.

She asks a question of her own. “Do you have any pets?”

Hyunjin brightens at the opportunity to talk about Kkami.

That day, he remembers what it’s like— to be curious, to be known.

It occurs to Hyunjin, quite suddenly, that he won’t be seeing her for a while. 

The thought only comes as his plane is taking off.

He had seen her over the weekend. She sought his honest opinion on drinks she planned to add to her menu. 

At the time, he hadn’t thought of bringing it up. What would he say, anyway? I’m going on a worldwide tour.

Miserable, he fiddles with his phone until Changbin levels him a firm look. 

“There’s in-flight Wi-Fi,” he says. “Do you want me to get the password for you?”

“Yes, please.” 

Once connected to the internet, Hyunjin searches up the café’s socials and finds its number, which is effectively her number. His heart leaps out of his chest.

He stares at the blinking cursor in the KakaoTalk chat. He had never given out his socials to her out of fear she would realize who he was, what type of life he lived. Now, he was considering using his personal number to message her.

It feels like too much. Hyunjin places his phone face down onto his lap. He wasn’t going to text her. He shouldn’t. Right?

In the next two hours, he probably checks and puts down his phone a dozen times. Fed up, Changbin eventually groans, “Just do what you have to do already!”

Hyunjin, red-faced, picks up his phone. Changbin is right. He keys in a quick message to the café’s account and hits send before he can overthink it.

Hi, this is Hyunjin. I usually come on weekday nights. I might be gone for a while; I’m heading abroad for work. I’m just letting you know, so you don’t think I hate your coffee or anything. Stay healthy and don’t work too hard. 

He exhales in relief, only to be startled by a notification mere minutes later.

Hi, Hyunjin, she responds. You’re so funny, but also right. I would have been sad if I thought I lost my favorite customer. Stay safe, okay? Send me photos of nice cafés during your travels!

Another notification pops up. It’s weird to be messaging on the shop’s account. LOL. Here’s my personal number.  

Hyunjin can feel his heart hammering underneath his chest. He’s ecstatic to have her number, sure, and an excuse to message her while he’s away, but he’s mostly flustered by a small phrase in her text. ‘My favorite customer.’

It might be something she says to everyone; Hyunjin doesn’t care. He suppresses a wide smile from a Changbin eyeing him with open curiosity. 

That day, Hyunjin remembers what it feels like to have a crush.

Hyunjin makes good on her offhanded request.

She receives numerous photos of coffee shops and bakeries across the world. Look at this catacomb concept, he says of a café in London. I thought the menu here was good, he notes with a picture from Hanoi.

I want whatever job you have, she texts back after he sends a video of a patisserie in New York. You’re always going to such cool places.

He doesn’t respond for a couple of hours. She worries, briefly, if she had said something wrong. She brushes it off as the timezone difference.

He texts as she’s trying to whip up a new batch of croissants. It’s nice, you’re right, but sometimes I wish I had a job where I could just stay in Korea, he replies. I’ve been to all these places and I think your coffee is still the best. 

She wipes the flour off her hands so she can shoot back, You’re just saying that so you can get free drink next time. 

He sends a GIF of a cartoon cat crying. I mean it, he texts. I miss you. 

She nearly drops her bowl of batter when she sees what he said. Thankfully, he follows up with, LOL, sorry, sent too soon. *I miss your lattes. 

Riiight, she types, then erases.

If you miss me, just say so, she types, then erases.

I miss you, too. 

She erases that and sends instead, LOL. I’ll be sure to perfect it by the time you come back. 

That day, she burns a batch of croissants as she tries to figure out how she feels.

The answer reveals itself to her soon enough.

She’s just about to pack up shop when she hears the front door’s bell. She begins to instinctively apologize about being closed for the night when she sees who the guest is. 

Hyunjin, with two paper bags in his hands. 

“That’s too bad,” he says dramatically. “I guess I’ll have to give these away to someone else, then.”

She laughs; he grins. He places down the bags on a table and asks, “Think you could spare a few minutes for your favorite customer?”

“Of course,” she says without hesitation. “Give me a second.”

She flips the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’, turns off online deliveries on her phone, and leaves all but one light open.

“I’m only willing to stay overtime for you,” she laughingly tells a Hyunjin who is watching her do her closing routine. “I can make you a drink, though…”

“No need.” He waves her over. “I got you some stuff.”

“You didn’t have to,” she says as she tries to peek into the bags. “When did you get back?”

“Yesterday. I went straight to my parents, though, before coming here.”

“How was all the traveling?”

“Tiring, fun. I’m glad to be home.”

She offers him a gentle smile. “I’m glad you’re back, too,” she says. In the sparse light of the café, it’s hard to tell for sure, but she thinks she sees Hyunjin blush.

He shoves one of the bags forward. “Here are some decorations for the café. They’re nothing fancy, and it’s still up to you whether you want to put them up…”

Hyunjin trails off as she brings out one decoration after the other. She’s overwhelmed. They’re all gorgeous and fitting of her café’s aesthetic.

“Hyunjin,” she says, awed. “I can’t possibly take these.”

But Hyunjin is shaking his head and already gesturing towards the other bag. “This one has a bunch of coffee packets I got from different places. I thought you might like them.” 

The thoughtfulness of it draws a disbelieving laugh out of her. “That’s it. You’re getting free drinks for a month,” she says seriously.

Hyunjin laughs, too. “That’s not necessary.”

“Oh, it is very necessary. This—” She gestures at all of Hyunjin’s gifts. “Is a really nice thing for you to do. Thank you, Hyunjin. Really.”

The smile on his face makes her pulse race. 

“You’re welcome,” he says. “Anything for my favorite barista.” 

That day, she concedes: She may have romantic feelings for this particular customer. 

It takes Hyunjin a few weeks after that to work up the courage to ask her out. 

When he found out her favorite Disney movie was putting out a sequel, he knew this was a golden opportunity. So, one evening, he asks if she’s free that weekend.

She says yes, because it’s her favorite film, but also— because it’s Hyunjin.

Neither of them refer to it as a date. It goes unspoken, is undeniable in its implication. They are two friends who are obviously attracted to each other. This was supposed to be the first time they meet outside her shop.

Hyunjin chooses a small movie theater and buys the tickets in advance. He texts her the details and she says she’ll be there.

Since immigrating, most of her time has just been going back and forth to her café and her apartment. She took cabs more often than not. She avoided tourist spots and malls, and only ever went out to do groceries or buy supplies.

So, that evening, when she decides to try taking the bus, it is her first time at the stop. She sends a text to Hyunjin saying she’s on her way, looks up from her phone, and sees him. 

Except it’s not him in the flesh. It’s him, on the bus stop’s LED screen. Nearly unrecognizable. 

The Hyunjin she knows wears dark hoodies and unbranded caps. The Hyunjin on the screen is dressed from head to toe in designer. She stares, slack-jawed, as text appears. ‘Hwang Hyunjin: Our Shining Star.’

A student sitting near her claps their hands. “Oh, are you a STAY, too? Is Hyunjin your bias?” they ask. 

She clears her throat. “Yes,” she lies, and the student nods excitedly.

“My bias is Felix,” the teenager raves. “I guess we’re both danceracha fans, ha-ha!”

The student boards the next bus that comes. It’s the same bus that’s supposed to pass by the mall where she has to go, but she stays rooted in her seat.

She finds herself doing inventory on what she knows about Hyunjin. He didn’t like talking about his job, only ever mentioning it in vague terms. It involved a lot of traveling. It was tiring, he said. But fun.

Her phone dings. Hyunjin’s message reads, Getting us popcorn. What flavor do you want? 

She looks at the text, then back up at the LED screen. Could it be a twin, maybe? No, she thinks. They had the same name. 

Instead of answering his question, she replies, Who are you?

Hyunjin responds with a sticker of a whale with several question marks over its head.

What’s a ‘STAY’? Who’s Felix? What’s a ‘danceracha’? Why do you have a poster at the bus stop?, she asks in a succession of texts.

She repeats, Who are you?

In the cinema lobby, Hyunjin feels his blood run cold. He can’t breathe, suddenly. In his excitement to invite her out, he hadn’t accounted for the dozens of birthday banners around the city.

He practically bolts out of the mall. He flags down a taxi that takes him back to his apartment, where Chan, Changbin, and Jisung are starting a new Netflix series.

“Hey, Hyune. I thought you’d be back—” Chan falters, then gets to his feet. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Hyunjin hadn’t realized there were tears streaming down his face until Jisung pauses their show and Changbin rushes to grab a box of tissues.

“I think I messed up,” Hyunjin says, his voice barely above a whisper.

She goes home that night and resists the urge to search him up. She wants to hear it from him, who he is, and why he had been so keen to hide it. 

Hyunjin, meanwhile, fights back sobs as he admits to his friends what had happened. How badly he had wanted to be normal, for once, and how it was now blowing up in his face.

When she falls asleep, she dreams of a darkened movie house— one bucket of popcorn, shy fingers dancing around each other’s touch.

Hyunjin tosses and turns in bed for hours. Her texts glare up at him, unanswered. Who are you, Hyunjin? 

That day, the weather forecast is dreary. The rainy season has come early.

She hardly has time to think of Hyunjin.

The rain brings in more customers. Those seeking shelter from the downpour, those in need of a warm drink.

On Monday, two boys swoop in with ridiculously oversized umbrellas.

“Your blueberry cheesecake looks good,” the smaller of them says. “Can I have a slice and an iced coffee too, please?”

“An iced coffee in this rain?” The taller sniffles dejectedly. “Jisung-ah, that’s impractical.”

Jisung glances at her for support.

“I think iced coffee can be enjoyed in any weather,” she offers. 

Jisung looks pleased. “See, Minho-hyung?”

Minho rolls his eyes but smiles slightly. “I think I’ll stick to my hot coffee. One espresso, please,” he says, and she punches in their orders.

The one named Jisung shoots several looks at her throughout their stay. Minho is mostly indifferent. (Or, rather, more discreet in stealing glances.) They leave a tip in her jar on the way out, and talk about her on the way home.

On Tuesday, a boy wearing a baseball jersey comes up to the counter.  

“Do you make all these yourself?” he asks while looking at the menu.

“I do,” she says. “I came up with most of the recipes, too.”

His eyes shine. “Can I have an iced Americano with syrup for takeout? And—” He pauses, as though deciding on whether he should continue. “Do you mind if I watch you make it?” 

She grins. She enjoyed customers like this. She invites the boy across the counter and walks him through the machinery, the procedure, the ingredients.

“Thank you so much,” he says once it’s all done, when he has his to-go cup in his hand. 

“It’s no problem. If you ever want to learn more about making coffee, my door’s always open.”

He smiles. “Thanks.” Another thoughtful pause. “I’m Seungmin, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Seungmin,” she says as she gives her own name. 

On Wednesday, three boys come in at noon.

They all don name tags over their chests.

“Binnie,” she reads out loud. The three boys balk, as though surprised. She smiles sheepishly at their reaction and points at the tags. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to shock you.”

The one with the tag that says ‘Chan’ flashes her a lopsided grin. “We came from an event. Must’ve forgotten to take these off.” 

“No problem. What can I get you guys?”

‘Lix’ scans the display of pastries and asks, “How much for everything?”

She raises her eyebrows. “Pardon me?”

“We’re going to be feeding a lot of people,” Binnie explains. “Will it be an inconvenience if we take all of your food?”

“No, not at all,” she says quickly. “But it should cost around…” She does the numbers, lets them know.

Chan nods. “That’s alright. We’ll have it all for takeout, please.” 

Bewildered, she begins to pack all the food into containers and paper bags. This had never happened to her. She would have to close shop early.

“Please choose three drinks,” she tells them. “I’ll throw them in for free.”

They look surprised. “You don’t have to,” Lix says sheepishly.

“You guys bought out my stock for the day,” she says. “I’m very grateful, and I’d love to make you a drink in exchange.”

After more of her insistence, the three reluctantly pick out their beverages. She sends them off with bags full of pastries, and large coffees for each. 

On Thursday, a familiar boy chats with her about the rain.

As she’s making his order, she tries to place where she saw him. She serves him his coffee and tentatively asks, “Are you Jeongin?”

He draws back a bit and cautiously replies in the affirmative. 

“You came here once,” she’s quick to explain. “It was snowing.”

Jeongin nods. “Right. I’m surprised you remember.”

“You were with Hy—” She falters. “Your friend.” 

He looks almost amused. “Hyunjin,” he finishes, and she nods.

“Hyunjin,” she repeats through the lump in her throat. “Well, excuse me.”

“Sure.”

She ducks back over to the counter and opens her KakaoTalk. Still nothing. She considers messaging him, but decides against it. She wants answers. If Hyunjin can’t give her any, then how can their relationship progress any further?

That day, Jeongin makes a beeline for Hyunjin’s apartment.

The rain is so bad that barely any customers come.

She contemplates closing early when the bell rings, and in comes Hyunjin.

Despite his umbrella, he is drenched from head to toe. He tracks mud into her café and drips rainwater onto her floor. She stares, mouth agape, at the audacity of this man to show up after a weeks’ worth of radio silence. 

She’s about to tell him off when he blurts out, “I’m Hwang Hyunjin.”

“I’m part of a group called Stray Kids. Our fans are called ‘STAY’,” he says. “Felix is my friend, and ‘danceracha’ is the subunit we’re part of. I love dancing. It’s what gives me life.”

He goes on, “I paint. I’m trying to get into photography, too. I like cold coffee, romance films, and you.”

She starts at the sudden confession. “What?”

“I really, really like you,” he says breathlessly. “I want to keep coming to this café. I want to watch a movie with you. But— if we’re going to do that— you need to know who I am.”

“You’re a dancer,” she repeats awkwardly.

“Yes. I sing and rap, too.”

She feels dizzy. “And you like me?”

He’s suddenly nervous, can’t meet her eyes. “Yes,” he says, his voice barely audible over the downpour beyond them. “I do.”

The rain falls heavily on the roof, and it is the only sound for a few precarious moments, as the two people in the café hang in delicate balance.

She makes a choice, then and there.

“Let me get you a towel,” she says. “And what coffee do you want? Your usual?”

He smiles so wide that the storm outside becomes nearly irrelevant. “Yes, please.”

That day, they sit at his favorite table and make plans.

When she finally, properly meets all of the boys, she reels backwards in abject shock.

Hyunjin places a hand on the small of her back to steady her. The seven boys laugh at her reaction, though not unkindly.

“For the record, we hadn’t planned it,” Jeongin says. He passes her a drink.

Felix— whose tag had said ‘Lix’, then— helps take her coat. “I really liked your scones! Maybe one day we could bake together,” he says cheerfully. 

“Yes, of course,” she stutters. 

“Hey, Felix.” Hyunjin wags a finger in his friend’s face. It’s not threatening at all. “That’s my girlfriend!” 

“I just wanted scones,” Felix says defensively, and more good-natured laughter ripples through the room. 

The attention shifts away from the new couple as the boys begin to lay out food onto the table for Changbin’s birthday celebration. 

Jisung notices her dumbstruck expression and gives her a reassuring smile. “Are you surprised?” he asks.

“A little.” She grins back at Jisung. “You’re the one who likes cheesecake.” 

He laughs at the comment. “And your cheesecake is one of the best! I’m glad you brought it today.” 

Hyunjin interrupts their conversation to steer her towards the kitchen. 

He juts his lower lip out in a pout. “I don’t think bringing you here was a good idea,” he says, half-serious. “I’m worried they’re all madly in love with you.” 

The absurdity of it makes her giggle. “You’re insane.” She stands on her tiptoes and presses a cheek on to her boyfriend’s cheek. “I love you, though.” 

“Damn right,” Hyunjin says. He tries to steal another kiss but she laughs, ducks away. 

“We have to go back to your friends,” she says pointedly as Hyunjin wraps his arms around her waist. 

“Five more minutes,” he whines, and she can’t help herself. She smiles.

“Five more minutes.” 

That day, they are happy. They are known. And it is more than enough.

[mrsnottt]

-I've only ever loved you!

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

Summary: where you and theo cross the boundaries of friendship.

warnings:slight mentions of smut near the end but purely fluff

note: I don't speak much English and i'm a first time writer let me know how I could improve pls!

It was a common occurrence for the group of slytherins to gather in the common room after a dreadful day of classses.

The boys had all gathered around the firepit. Mattheo,Lorenzo and Draco on the couch complaining about the last Quidditch game against Gryfinndor. Theo and Blaise sat side by side on their lounge chairs sharing a cigarette amongst themselves.

As you packed your bag and got ready to leave your final lesson your path was blocked by Cormac McLaggen “hey y/n are you still into that dumb slytherin or you going to take me up on my previous offer” it had taken a lot of energy to not punch him then and there.

“Cormac we’re never going to be a thing get over it” just as he was about to retaliate Pansy had thankfully interrupted him by pushing you into the direction of the door and showing him the finger.Once we were out of sight she began to ramble on “What a dick it’s been what 3 years ,come on, everyone can tell you and Theo are infatuated with each other”

“pansy come on it’s not like that” you didnt know why you still insisted when you knew she knew you better then yourself “yeah yeah why else have you been single your whole life?” you just rolled your eyes not in the mood to have the same repetitive conversation.

It's not that you didn’t like Theo it’s just you thought it was too good to be true.While you had been single he had managed to be seen at different parties with different girls and a part of your heart would break each time while you waited for your turn.

“Okay i’ll stop talking but will you tell him what happened and how McLeery will not stop bugging you” that had made you chuckle but it stopped when you thought about how Mclaggen had followed you around school during fifth year begging you to date him until Theo found out and had beaten him black and blue and he didn't stop until Mattheo and Lorenzo had dragged him away from the boy that became limp on the floor with blood everywhere. You shiver as you recalled the memories “I think i’ll refrain from telling him this time”

Y/N and Pansy had just returned to the common room from the final class of the day.

As you and pansy went down the stairs towards the boys you looked up and were met with theo’s eyes and he beckoned you over to sit with him as we made our way over you felt pansy nudge you and you looked over to see her wiggling her eyebrows teasing you.

You couldn't blame me for my feelings for the Italian boy with the hypnotising eyes, we had met during first year and have been inseparable since. We were probably the closest to each other amongst the group, we had been with each other through ups and downs and found comfort within each other.

As you made your way over to Theo he discarded his cigarette on the ashtray. You had gone to sit on the armchair but he snaked an arm around your waist and moved you over to sit on his lap "that's better amore mio" he then started playing with the ends of your hair while focusing on his conversation with Blaise.

As you turned around to face the other boys and pansy while trying to appear unfazed which was harder then it looked especially with Theo rubbing circles on your inner thighs causing butterflies to appear in your tummy.

You gave pansy a knowing look once you saw her move over to cuddle with Blaise. Apart of you felt quite jealous of how easy it was for your friends to form relationships but of course the other part of you felt joyful for your friends.

You began to relax in his arms and lay your head on the side of his neck until a trail of goosebumps began to form on your neck from Theo whispering “Are you feeling okay?You don't look well,my love” with the soft gaze in his eyes when he looked at you it was hard to not give in but you just nodded “I just had a long day and had double DADA lessons with Snape."

Theo looked at you unconvinced but he seemed to have let it go “Do you want to take a nap in my dorm and then we can hang out with them later” he knew you so well you gently nodded,now feeling more tired at the thought of sleeping.

He tapped on your thigh to alert you to stand up as he took you by the hand informing the group we were going for a nap. You refused to look back avoiding Pansys knowing look.

As he led you up the stairs to his dorm and brought you into the room with his hand still intertwined with yours.The room that was usually resided by Mattheo and Lorenzo now empty Theo had now gotten comfortable on his bed whilst you took of your shoes.

Theo spread out his arms inviting you into his embrace,you gladly joined him. After a few moments of silence Theo began to play with your hair and you glanced up to him to find him already looking at you “You know you don't have to hide what your feeling Amore mio”he let out a sigh“I know but i just don’t want to stir the pot or anything” He gave you a look which meant ‘stop playing or i’ll found out myself’ which caused you to reluctantly spill.

“It’s just i’ve been single my whole life and now i’m not sure if i’m destined to face unrequited love for the rest of my life and i feel like everyone’s gained some experience including you who has a a different girl each party and i feel like I'm missing out” you let out a breathe you didn’t know you were holding from your rant.

You felt like a weight was taken of your shoulders you glanced up again to see what he was thinking “principessa ,I truly wish you could see yourself the way i see you and how worthy and valuable you are,none of those girls compare to you and those excuses of a men don't even deserve to breathe the same oxygen as you."and with that he left a kiss on your forehead

Even though you felt flustered you couldn’t believed the words that come out of his mouth in absolute awe your gaze dropped down to his lips as he licked it and your words had began to spill out of your mouth “Would you ever love me more than a friend?" he looked taken aback and started to shift which made you regret your words instantly "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable I don't know why I said that" you started to remove yourself from his hold in a panic over the possibility of ruining your friendship before he pushed you back onto the bed, held you by the waist to secure you in place and connected your lips together with him on top of you.

His soft,pinkish lips against yours as you both fought for dominance he gently bit your lower lip.It felt as if your lips perfectly fit together and you knew it was going to be your new addiction. You both separated gasping for air "ti amo così tanto mio tesoro"(I love you so much my darling) you gazed up at him unable to speak you felt like you were in a trance"I love you so much I can’t even explain it in words but I know I only want you for the rest of my life and you heal different pieces of my heart each time I lay eyes on you" you couldn't even fathom the things he was saying it had all felt surreal.

"I love you too ragazzo carino" (pretty boy) you replied leaning up to give him another peck on his lips "does that mean your finally mine Bella ragazza?" (pretty girl) you chuckled you felt like the stars and moon had aligned "of course,its not like I haven't been longing for you since third year"at the confirmation he had been waiting for Theo tugged you closer to him on top of you giving you another kiss that should be written in the books.

The kiss began to heat up and become more passionate ,full of emotion, he tugged on the hemline of your shirt taking it off. His fingers crawling slowly upwards,stopping at your sternum.

You interrupted the kiss before it could go further "At least Mclaggen will finally leave me alone"Theo let out a groan at the mention of the boy "ugh principessa why would you mention him"you giggled as he rolled his eye out of annoyance "That bastard won't be able to touch you with a ten-foot pole"you felt yourself get turned on at his sudden anger "why don't you show him who I belong to?"

Theo grinned at the idea and continued his previous actions displaying his love for you all over your body.

The thought of a nap being long-forgotten..

[suiana]

The death of an artist

he's always found you beautiful, even in your death and rebirth. you'll always be perfect to him. always

(yandere! musician x gn! reader) (cw: yandere stuff idk, im wiritng this while shitting i hope u enjoy my poopoo core, 2.04k words)

you might not have realised it but your silent admirer had always watched you.

he's watched you from the shadows, observing how you interact with others, how your eyes were once full of light and joy as you shared your paintings for the world to see.

it was beautiful.

you were beautiful.

he was but an aspiring musician back then. a couple of listeners here and there but never enough to fill up a concert hall. meanwhile you were a famous artist, with your paintings selling out for millions at all the art exhibitions you hosted.

you little admirer totally idolized you.

i mean, who wouldn't? all your paintings were so full of life, oh so meaningful, and most importantly, they were made with love.

love, love, love.

it was the one thing that made you stand out from all the hundreds and thousands of artists. the one thing that inspired him to even start writing songs.

your art made him feel loved. it made him feel wanted, even. he remembers how he'd get a fuzzy feeling from all your paintings, how it sent a delightful tingle up his spine as he takes in your carefully crafted masterpieces.

though there weren't any texts, all of your paintings spoke a thousand words. and they spoke to him.

with every new piece you put out, it was like he was getting to know you better. to know you on a personal level. it made his head spin and his heart leap in delight. after all, you were his idol. the one he admired so much that he began to pursue a music career dedicated to you. the career he once left behind in favour of living in this sad world.

though at one point in time, he hit a wall.

he couldn't get any ideas, no fresh inspiration for his music. the musician could only stare at his score as his mind desperately grasps at nothing. he felt like he was dying.

then you came through, like an angel of salvation.

well, looking back, you were more like a demon of salvation. especially because that one single text from you kick-started his disgusting love for you. it feels wrong to call you a demon though, not when you were so holy that he feels like touching you will corrupt your divine light.

he still remembers waking up and seeing your text on his instagram DMs. your bright red notification ping that gave him all the motivation he needed to think of a new idea.

'hey! just wanted to tell u i really enjoy ur music! cant wait to see u get famous >w<'

he swears he could die happy just seeing you message him. you messaged him. you know of his existence??? no fucking way bro. he still wonders if he used up all his luck when you messaged him so innocently that day.

of course... he responded and thus began a friendship (?) between the two of you.

friendship. yeah, maybe for you.

truth be told, he doesn't know if he ever saw you as a friend to begin with. he always thought you messaged him because you were interested in him too. whatever, these small details aren't important.

he released a love song not long after your first interaction with him. it instantly became a viral hit, taking his follower count from the thousands to the millions. he was glad it performed so well on the charts, they were his feelings to you after all.

the now famous musician had to thank you for getting him out of his rut. without you, he'd probably have gone back to doing medicine. so he did the best thing and that was to invite you out for a meal. he had to thank his muse, didn't he?

you were a little hesitant at first. that's okay, if anything he thought it was cute that you were suspicious of him. there will be plenty of time for you to warm up to him later.

the little get-together, or first date as he likes to call it, went well! you two saw each other in real life for the first time! and boy was he smitten. if he was unsure about whether he was in love with you before, he sure as hell was sure now.

you were so much more lovely in real life than you were over text. all smiles and laughs, your admirer feels that his songs didn't do you justice.

"this was fun! let's do this again!"

oh for sure he will do it again. he just wants you all to himself now. to keep you with him, a never-ending source of inspiration for the rest of his life. his beloved muse. the one he writes for. the one his songs are dedicated to. his.

so your falling off played out nicely in his favour. you were trying out an experimental style, said that he inspired you. it was one that not many would be able to understand at first glance, completely different from what your previous one was. your loyal fans stood by your side of course, him included. but the general public eventually started ignoring your newer pieces in favour for something they didn't need to use much thought to understand. for someone fresh, someone new.

he could see the way the light in your eyes slowly started to dim at the lack of interaction. sure, you said that fame wasn't important to you, that all you wanted was to showcase your art to the world.

but your little admirer could tell that it was bothering you more than you'd like to admit.

he saw the way your texts with him grew more erratic, the way the vibrant life in your eyes started to slowly dim, the way you started pushing out more works to compensate for the style change. you were desperate for the attention you once received. the way you changed in real time, becoming a slave to the consumers, like an animated robot that pushed out art just for the sake of it...

it was a little sad to see to be honest. it was like you were there, but you also weren't, you know? your name was on the artwork but he didn't see you in it.

but he was glad things turned out the way it did. it meant that he could be there for you when you cried and felt like a mistake. it meant that he could offer you a shoulder to cry on when the times were really bad.

"there there, it's alright. just let it all out."

his gentle caresses as you cried your heart out into his chest... it was delightful to see you depend on him so much. that you'd come seeking comfort from him in such a dark period of your life. he felt so wanted by you.

meanwhile, his fame was only growing larger by the day. while you were on a path to being forgotten, he was making a name for himself in the music industry. brand deals, billboards, advertisements. he was everywhere, like a ghost haunting you, to remind you that your friend was thriving while you weren't.

the musician wonders whether you've ever hated him. that you'd think he was stealing all of your fame. after all, your fame went down not long after you messaged him. he really wonders whether you've ever blamed him for making a change in your art style.

it doesn't matter now.

the artist in you was gone.

"hey, what if you make me an album cover?"

you only stared at him with dark eyes before looking away. everyone around you had slowly started distancing themselves from you. the change in your personality and looks had scared them. everyone but him had stayed. his words about horrid snakes deceiving you fill your head as you cling to the attention he gave you. who were you to deny your only friend left?

"sure."

you didn't give much thought when designing his new album. it was an avant garde album that had themes about desperation, love, and death.

how ironic, you thought.

you gave the complete piece to him a few days after, heavy bags under your eyes as your friend hugged and kissed your cheek. he's been taking care of you recently. having you move in with him, cooking you food and covering all of your expenses. he treated you like a lover. albeit you found it a bit weird that he told you not to leave without his consent. said that he didn't want people to harass you. you found it sweet of him. you were glad that he cared for you so much.

"my dear artist friend designed my new album cover, yes. i think they were a perfect fit to help design this particular album cover. they're..."

your fame immediately came back. interviews, likes, commissions, the things you were once familiar with came running back at full force after your friend's interview with a big channel.

you think if this happened earlier you'd have caved under the attention. the big spotlight, fans.... the attention will always be intoxicating. even now, you feel yourself smiling at the number of notifications you're receiving from strangers.

but you've realized that their attention is only temporary. the second you grow irrelevant they'll drop you again. just like they did before.

the only one who matters is your friend. the one who whispered sweet nothings and reassured you when you were drowning in a mass of nothingness. the one who gave you the attention you craved.

you immediately started a new piece in a new style.

'Intertwined'

a painting that gave you more fame than what you initially had before. it was a piece about self enlightenment, discovery, and contentment. and some claimed that it was the best painting that you've ever made. a masterpiece.

you showed your friend your work right after you were done and you could've sworn you saw a hint of shock in his eyes. maybe also fear? you don't know.

"this is... beautiful."

his words were slow, gaze intense as he stared at your painting for what felt like hours. you think he was mesmerized. you never asked him.

you made another painting after that.

'final duet'

again, people claimed that it was a masterpiece. your friend looked stunned again and he called it beautiful like always. he told you that he's never seen something so artistically perfect before and that he's proud of you. you like it. his compliments make you happy.

"this one is for you."

you made another piece. a simple painting of him in your style.

'untitled.jpg'

"is... it mine now?"

he proceeded to draw you into the painting as well after your words. you didn't understand what he was doing. but you found it cute. he was drawing you?

"there. now it's perfect."

he smiles down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead like he always does. you've grown so used to his kisses that you were expecting one already. you lean into his touch before smiling softly.

"i'm so happy with you."

"me too."

the seed of life was sprouting once more, growing around the stem that it's learnt to grow dependent on.

he was everything to you. you feel like you'd die without him. but you know it'll never happen because your dearest friend will always remain by your side. he promised you. his words are like gold. he's the only one who matters.

you never want to be apart ever again.

thus you made your final masterpiece about love and dedication. a flower thriving in a dark environment and growing to love the dark, having died in the shining light once before.

'rebirth'

the blinds to the outside world shut on the two of you. no one else is important. he tells you he loves you. you repeat it. his hands wrap around you as you lean into his cold touch. you're cold too. you used to be warm once, he says he likes you cold better. shutting your eyes, all you focus on is the steady beating of his heart.

now no one will ever bother the two lovers ever again.

[whatiswrongwithpeople]

I keep going over the world we knew (p.2)

a player 230/ Thanos/ Su-Bong x fem!reader fic

summary: “It had always been him and her against the world. But if you've been fighting against the world for years, how do you react when you suddenly realize that your best friend has become your world?”

warnings: none really except the usual Thanos/Squid Game stuff. Maybe slightly ooc Thanos? , Written in my notes app.

note: not gonna lie, I originally planned for this to only have 2 parts BUT I decided taking my time with it and all that gives it a nice pace.

Hope you enjoy!!!

🏷️: @l5byrinth , @wpdarlingpan , @lollipopsandstuff

Part 1 , Part 3

The night after the second game was far too quiet for Thanos to ignore the gnawing feeling that had settled in his chest ever since coming back to the dorm. He had survived the games with a cold mix of calculated precision and blasting his brain to the moon with drugs. But neither the success , nor the growing amount of money in the ever present piggy bank was enough to drown out the nagging ache in his ribs when he thought of [Y/N].

His [Y/N].

The way she moved with a sense of confidence and purpose that was simply too authentic to be fake. The way she had shut him out so quickly, eyes never seeming to truly look at him. Gods did he long for that familiar gaze to land on him. To rediscover that warmth he had once found in it. By now it had been years since Thanos had last spoken to her—since he’d ruined everything. But the memories, the raw, untouched feelings, were still there. Unforgiven. Unwavering. Never truly gone.

And as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t keep pretending that this wasn’t affecting him. Not even with several of his colourful pills pumping through his system.

Thanos’ eyes drifted across the darkened room, only stopping when he had found [Y/N]’s form a few beds down from his. She was sitting there, still as stone, eyes staring straight ahead with that same unreadable expression she had been wearing ever since the first game. Not a single word had passed between them since their brief interaction during the last game. But ,despite how it might seem, Thanos wasn’t stupid. He could feel the tension in the air whenever their paths crossed.

He wasn’t used to feeling this way. Especially not when his survival instincts kicked in so loudly, demanding every ounce of his energy to focus on the prize. “Win the money , pay off your debt.” had become the silent mantra in his brain. But that was the thing with [Y/N], she had always been able to pull at the strings of something deep inside him, something far more complicated than any strategy or skill. Something deeply ,deeply personal.

“Hey do you think I could-“ Nam-Guy -or whatever his name was- popped into Thanos’ field of vision. With an annoyed sigh, the purple haired player stood up. “Not now.” He muttered, putting both of his hands on the boy’s shoulders, turning him to the bed next to his. “Talk to him instead.” Baffled Nam-Gyu looked over his shoulder, surprise in his voice as he exclaimed a “What-“. But Thanos was already halfway across the room, shoes making quiet thuds against the floor as he made his way over to [Y/N]’s cot.

“You know,” Thanos came to a halt on one of the lower steps that rested between the beds, resting his arms on [Y/N]’s mattress as he propped up his head. Thanos’ voice was calm. Almost too calm to [Y/N]’s ears, judging by the gravity of the situation they had found themselves in. “Staring at the wall isn't going to change anything."

Thanos leaned against the bed frame, his usual cocky smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched [Y/N]. She was sitting still as a stone with an expression colder than ice. Not once had she bothered to look at him since he had approached her bed, and that infuriated him.

“Are you really gonna sit there like you don’t know who I am?” he drawled, his voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “You know, I’m starting to feel like a ghost. And I’m not really the type to fade into the background, you know?”

[Y/N] fought the urge to roll her eyes, choosing to ignore the purple haired pain-in-the-ass who she had once called her best friend.

“Well, if it helps, I can try and get a little more dramatic,” Thanos said, pushing himself off the bedframe in order to lean in closer, reducing the distance between them. “Maybe I’ll do a little tap dance or something. You seem like you’d appreciate the effort.”

At that [Y/N] finally glanced at him, but only for a brief moment, before turning her gaze back to the wall. "You’re a real piece of work, Su-Bong," she muttered under her breath, but still loud enough for him to catch the venom in her words. He chuckled.

“Yeah, I know. I’m one of a kind.” His voice was playful, but there was an edge to it, a challenge in his tone. “And I’m starting to think you don’t even remember who I am anymore.” [Y/N] shot him a glance, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Oh, I remember exactly who you are, Su-Bong. And that's the problem."

The words hit him like a splash of cold water, but he refused to let it show. He leaned in closer, deliberately invading her space, his eyes gleaming with that familiar cockiness. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

She met his gaze with a fiery intensity. “It means that you left. You walked away, and I’m still here, cleaning up your mess. So yeah, I remember you. And I remember how it felt to have you pull away like I meant nothing.”

Thanos laughed, but it was dry, forced. “Jesus, you’ve got a way with words, don’t you? You know, I thought you’d be more fun to mess with, but I forgot how good you were at throwing guilt trips. Really good.”

“Guilt trips?” [Y/N] turned her body to face him fully now, her eyes flashing with a mix of fury and sheer hurt. “No, Su-Bong, this isn’t about guilt. It’s about the fact that you’re standing there, pretending like it’s all fine now, when you did leave. You disappeared, and now you expect everything to just magically go back to how it was? Is that it? You think I’ve been sitting here waiting for you to waltz back in with your pretty purple hair and expect me to just forgive you?”

Thanos smirked. “I don’t expect anything from you. But you might want to reconsider that little attitude of yours. It’s really not helping the situation.”

“You think I care about your situation?” she snapped, her voice louder. “You think I’ve been sitting here, all starry-eyed, just waiting for you to get your shit together? Newsflash: I’m done doing that. I’m done with you, Su-Bong.”

The weight of [Y/N]’s words hung heavy in the air, the tension between the estranged pair was palpable. Thanos was about to speak again, something sharp and cutting on the tip of his tongue, when the loudspeaker's monotone voice sliced through the silence, calling the players to line up for food.

Without as much as a glance, [Y/N] brushed past Thanos as though he were invisible, the force of her shoulder knocking him slightly off balance. Her gaze was firmly locked onto the middle of the room as she began walking toward the food line, every step measured, holding that unwavering confidence.

For a moment, Thanos stood there, frozen in place. The argument had been abruptly interrupted, but the sting of her words and her rejection lingered in the air like smoke. As the others began to shuffle toward the line, he realized there was nothing left to say—at least, not now. The silence between them was louder than any argument ever could be.