#nothing about the movie was subtle and at first i was like...but then i got used to it and had fun

[lazysoulwriter]

little clues in polish. - pedro pascal.

requested! thank you. ♡ content: pure fluff, soft launch fun, social media/fan speculation, teasing, affection, subtle intimacy.

---

It starts with a star.

Just one. A tiny, silver thing sitting on Pedro��s pinky nail, barely the size of a freckle. You almost miss it entirely until he slides into the booth beside you at the little diner your friends frequent post-premiere.

Your hand is on the table already, freshly manicured — a galaxy theme this time. Deep navy blue with scattered constellations, starbursts on every nail, some shimmer catching the light. He sees it, nudges your elbow, and grins when you finally catch the match.

“You noticed,” he says, like it’s nothing. Like his heart’s not beating wildly because he picked that little star with you in mind.

You smile. “It’s cute.”

He shrugs. “Felt right.”

And that’s how it begins.

No Instagram stories. No red carpet hand-holding. Just a trail of quiet matching details — fingerprints of affection only the two of you know to look for.

You start getting playful with it.

He shows up to a press junket with a thin line of gold wrapping the tip of his thumb — the same gold that outlines the marble design on your nails in a photo you'd posted earlier that day. Fans notice.

“Okay but why is Pedro’s nail giving the same vibes as [Y/N]’s???” “Matching... again?? Coincidence or coded??” “Is this… a nail soft launch?????”

Threads start popping up. Nail art theories. Timelines. People making little charts with circles and arrows, zooming in on blurry pap pics where you’re both walking five steps apart — but your nail colors are suspiciously complementary.

Pedro finds them one night while you're curled up on his couch, legs over his lap, popcorn between you. He scrolls through the fan theories, chuckling, eyes gleaming.

“They’re obsessed,” he says. “They think I’m trying to launch you like a Marvel movie.”

You snort. “Soft-launch you like a Sephora collab.”

He grins. “You are my favorite limited edition.”

He kisses you after that — slow, sweet. Like he doesn’t mind the build-up. Like he’s savoring the soft part before it gets loud.

The first time it gets close to loud is when you go to an awards afterparty. You’ve kept it lowkey, arriving separately. But you're both seated together inside, and your nails — well. There’s no denying it now.

You’re wearing pink. Pale, glossy, with tiny white hearts on every nail.

Pedro’s hand wraps around his drink, and there it is again — the same heart, tucked neatly onto his ring finger. A different base color, sure. Matte instead of glossy. But unmistakably a match.

The internet explodes.

You scroll through the tweets later with a giggle, curled into his chest. He watches you with that sleepy smile — like he’s been waiting for this moment. Like he’d match your nails a hundred more times if it meant he got to hold you like this.

“You know,” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple, “if they’re gonna analyze our hands so much, might as well give them something to really talk about.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

He shrugs. “Thinking next set — matching and we post them. Together.”

You blink. “A full launch?”

He kisses your shoulder. “Let’s give ‘em a reason to finally stop guessing.”

---

✦ please do not copy, repost, or translate this work. © lazysoulwriter // i write with a lot of love and care, so please respect that.

[skyguytoast]

BOYFRIEND!HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN 🎀 NON-SEXUAL INTIMATE HEADCANONS

WARNINGS:  none, just cuteness! WORDS:   +800 A/N:  hello dear people, my tiktok is full of Hayden, literally one video after another, not that i'm complaining, quite the opposite, the more the better 🎀 so, i decided to let my imagination run wild with some really cozy and cute headcanons of Hayden being a boyfriend. i hope you like it, comments, likes and reblogs make my day 💕💕My inbox is always open for requests and ideas 💌🧸 DIVIDERS BY @cafekitsune

Boyfriend! Hayden always holds your hand. It's never a question. Whether you’re weaving through a grocery store, walking the dog, or arriving at a premiere, he instinctively reaches for you. His larger hand envelopes yours, thumb gently tracing along your knuckles. To him, it’s more than just affection—it’s a quiet way of saying “you’re with me.” Boyfriend! Hayden makes a point of not smoking near you because he knows it bothers you. If he does step out for one, he walks comically far away—like across the yard or half a block down. You roll your eyes, tug him back by the sleeve. “I’m not made of glass,” you say. He grins, still positioning himself downwind, always putting you first without needing to be asked. Boyfriend! Hayden gets up earlier just to make you coffee—real, fresh, hot coffee. If it’s a stressful day ahead, he swaps it for tea, gently setting it on your nightstand with a quiet, “Try this today. It’s better for your nerves.” You grumble, half-awake, but sip it anyway. He’s already back in the kitchen, packing you a snack, pretending he’s not quietly fussing over you. Boyfriend! Hayden who always buys drinks you like, because he knows you’ll take his anyway. “I got us orange juice,” he says with a subtle smirk, holding out a glass as you eye his like a thief caught red-handed. He always anticipates you—and he kind of loves that you steal from him. Boyfriend! Hayden gives the kind of hugs that reset your nervous system. Full-body, grounding hugs—arms around your waist, chin on your shoulder, slow breath syncing with yours. Whether you’re anxious, excited, or tired, his hugs say “I’ve got you.” Sometimes he kneels beside your chair just to wrap you up, like nothing else matters more. Boyfriend! Hayden lives for quiet days in bed. Blankets, takeout, a half-watched documentary humming in the background. You’ll lie tangled up for hours, limbs draped over each other, swapping theories about the universe one minute, then debating what kind of pasta to make the next. There’s no pressure to be “on.” Just the warmth of being together. Boyfriend! Hayden loves when you link arms with him during walks—especially at the farmers market. His hand rests lightly on yours, fingers curling in as you browse produce, plan lunch, or just stroll aimlessly. In crowded places, it keeps you both grounded—like a quiet anchor in the noise. Boyfriend! Hayden melts when you rest your head on his shoulder, burying your nose into his neck. His instinct is to lean into you, even if his neck ends up sore from the angle. “Worth it,” he mutters with a little smile, every time. Because nothing feels safer than your weight pressed gently into him.

Boyfriend! Hayden has a habit of falling asleep on your chest like it’s his personal pillow. The rhythm of your heartbeat lulls him down like a lullaby. Sometimes his arm drapes over your waist, his breath warm against your collarbone. You stroke his hair, feeling him completely let go in your presence. Boyfriend! Hayden has a habit of playing with your fingers absentmindedly. During car rides, movie nights, even in silence, you’ll feel his thumb brushing along your knuckles or tracing shapes against your palm. It’s subtle, grounding, a gentle little way of staying connected. Boyfriend! Hayden always warms your side of the bed if you’re late getting in. He slides over to your half, pulls the blanket up high, and makes sure it's toasty when you finally crawl in. “Perfect timing,” he’ll say, shuffling back to his side. “It’s preheated.” Boyfriend! Hayden hums while cooking. Not full-on singing, just soft little hums under his breath as he stirs something on the stove. When you walk into the kitchen and wrap your arms around his back, he leans into you without missing a beat, still humming. Boyfriend! Hayden always notices when you’re overstimulated in public. Whether it’s flashing lights, loud noise, or too many people, he’ll gently squeeze your hand and guide you somewhere quieter without making a big deal out of it. His presence is like a calm barrier between you and the chaos. Boyfriend! Hayden keeps one of your hair ties on his wrist. You didn’t ask him to, but he always seems to have it when you need it—whether you're cooking, cleaning, or caught in the wind. “Here,” he says, holding it out like a secret weapon. “Told you I’d remember.” Boyfriend! Hayden always leaves his sweatshirts where you can find them—draped over the couch, folded at the foot of the bed, or tossed casually in your chair. He knows you love stealing them. He wants you to. Seeing you wrapped in his oversized hoodie, sleeves dangling past your hands, makes something soft flicker in his chest. It’s not just about the comfort—it’s the quiet thrill of knowing his scent is clinging to your skin, that you chose his clothes like a second hug. Boyfriend! Hayden kisses your forehead like it’s second nature. Not just when you’re tired or sad—but in the kitchen while you’re cooking, in line at the store, or when you’re laughing so hard you can’t breathe. His lips linger a little longer than necessary, like he’s silently saying, you’re my favorite person. Boyfriend! Hayden writes little notes when he knows you’re having a hard week. Slipped into your bag, stuck on the mirror, tucked into your notebook. Simple things like “You’ve got this,” or “Proud of you.” Once, you found a doodle of small lightsabers crossed and hearts above them. You kept that one in your wallet. Boyfriend! Hayden slow dances with you in the living room at night, even if there’s no music. You’ll be cleaning up dinner or getting ready for bed when he suddenly pulls you close, one hand on your waist, the other lacing through your fingers. “Just for a minute,” he says with a soft smile. You end up swaying for five. Boyfriend! Hayden kisses your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world. When you’re talking, when you’re reading, even when you’re arguing—he’ll lift your hand and brush his lips against it. It’s old-fashioned, yes, but it melts you every time. It’s the way he does it—gentle, grounding, like he’s reminding himself you’re real. Boyfriend! Hayden calls you “my lovely girl” in that quiet, low voice that always makes your heart skip. He doesn’t overuse it—just drops it in when he’s introducing you, or when he’s looking at you across the room like he still can’t believe you’re his. And the way he says it? Like he means it. Like there’s no one else it could ever be.

TAGLIST: @ihearthayden @anakinstwinklebunny @sometimescharlolette @awhhayden @dessxoxsworld @throughparisallthroughrome

[kashverse]

gojo’s sweet tooth is a menace. you learned that early on when he asked for “a bit” of sugar in his coffee and ended up turning it into something closer to a dessert syrup. so, of course, when you bake a pear and berry pie—already sweet enough, mind you—he sneaks in extra sweetener when he thinks you aren’t looking. he’s not very subtle about it. the first time, you almost missed it, but then you saw his telltale smug grin, a bit too pleased with himself as he “innocently” leaned against the counter.

"toru," you deadpan, arms crossed.

"what? i’m just appreciating your hard work," he says, licking a stray bit of filling off his finger like he's in a commercial.

"you’re ruining my pie."

"nah, i’m improving your pie," he corrects, already reaching for another spoonful.

nanami, on the other hand, is far less chaotic. he keeps things simple—apple pie, nothing fancy. no extra fillings, no surprise ingredients, just a good ol’ classic that never lets him down. it’s his go-to for the weekends, whether he makes it himself (precisely measured, no shortcuts) or picks one up from the bakery he trusts more than some of his coworkers. sometimes, you’ll walk into the kitchen and find him in the middle of rolling out dough with the same focus he has when reading financial reports. if you joke about him being a househusband, he’ll sigh, wipe his hands on a towel, and say, "do you want pie or not?"

toji doesn’t bake. he doesn’t have time, patience, or, honestly, the self-control to wait for something to cool down before eating it. but after a long day, when you casually hand him a slice of pumpkin pie, he takes it without a word. he’s not big on admitting things, so he just eats it, nodding once in approval, like that’s the most gratitude you’re going to get. but the real giveaway is how he never turns it down. ever. even if he’s pretending like he doesn’t care.

geto loves pecan pie. no debate. no discussion. no hesitation. the man would probably start a war over it if necessary. you once offered him a slice of something else, and he gave you such a disappointed look that you almost felt guilty.

"you’re really this attached to pecan pie?" you asked, watching as he took slow, deliberate bites like he was savoring each one.

"it’s a masterpiece," he said, as if that explained everything.

choso is all about cherry pie, mostly because he likes the tint it leaves behind. after eating it, he’ll glance in the mirror and smile a little at the way his lips look stained, like a kid who got into something he shouldn’t have. sometimes, he’ll grin at you with his mouth still full just to make you roll your eyes.

"cho, you look like you just drank blood."

"cool, right?"

and then there’s sukuna. you have to physically stop him from turning a normal, innocent chicken pie into something… horrific.

"you can’t put human meat in it."

"why not?"

"it’s a chicken pie."

"so?"

you glare at him. he stares back, unbothered.

"suku, if i turn around and find out you’ve replaced the filling, i swear to god—"

he smirks. "you wouldn’t even know the difference."

"i would. you know why? because i would throw up."

he just laughs, because, really, who needs horror movies when you live with him?

[scorpiosbite]

when actress!reader and drew made it official

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── after casually seeing each other for a few months after that first hook up after the club and then going on that first date, you and drew finally make it official.

𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey

author’s note: this takes place in october 2024, at this point actress!reader and drew have been seeing each other casually for a few months, after their hook up and subsequent date in LA. actress!reader is currently in the midst of filming Anora.

you were holed up in your LA home that you were renting while living LA for the filming of your new movie Anora. it was your day off and you were going to spend it rotting at home and swimming in your pool. you’re a big homebody, although people assumed that you were someone who was always going out, you weren’t, going out for non-work related reasons was a rare occurrence. it’s not like you don’t enjoy going out, you do. but going to clubs and parties was something that you enjoyed once in a while, for special occasions and with the right people. and if you were being honest it got repetitive. going to parties, getting drunk, surrounded by people you don’t know or care about. you would much rather spend your time at home and be able to truly be yourself. you were sinking further and further into the plush couch in your living room, your book propped on your knees. when your phone rang.

drew calling…. accept?

you smiled lightly at the sight of his name lighting up your screen, you let it ring for a beat before you answered, wanting to torture him for a bit. “hey.” the greeting came out like a sigh, almost as if the thought of him relaxes your mind and body. “hey, baby.” you grinned and your cheeks flushed at the low tone of his voice, god everything about him was sexy, and you could see the smirk dancing on his lips through the phone, like he could feel the effect he has on you. “what are you doing today, pretty girl?” you hummed glancing at the time on the clock, ten am. “nothing ‘m just gonna chill at home, maybe go swimming, weather’s nice in LA.” drew chuckled, a low rumble, that sent shivers up your spine. “not like london, huh?” you giggled lightly, “yea, not like london.” drew made a noise of agreement. “you mind if i come over?” your fingers played with the band of your shorts. “what if i say, yes, i do mind?” drew snorted, you could hear him shuffling in his seat. “i’m just gonna come over anyway.” you rolled your eyes, playfully. “creep.” you retort, and he laughed, a sound that came from his chest and made your heart jump. “i’ll be there in ten, baby.” you bit your bottom lip in anticipation. “mhmm hmm.”

you were still laid up on the couch, reading your book when your doorbell rang, you smiled before making your way to the door, pulling it open. drew stood in the frame, dressed in a plain white t-shirt and baggy black cargo pants, his buzzed hair now grown out in a baby mullet, fuck he looked good. his hands were locked behind his back and he gave you a crooked smile, his tongue pushing into his cheek, and his cheeks turning a light shade of pink as he gave you a once over. suddenly you were reminded of your lack of clothing and you felt you face heat up in turn. drew’s eyes raked over you, running over your tight black boy shorts with a cute little bow on the front and then your black bandeau top with the little matching bow on the middle of the upper hem. after what felt like eternity, you cleared your throat. “you wanna keep looking at me, or come in?” drew smirked, unashamed of being caught staring, well it wasn’t like he was trying to be subtle. “hello, to you too, y/n.” he teased in a slightly sarcastic tone. you rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t fight the smile that creeped onto your face. you led him to your living room, his eyes unabashedly staring at your ass while you walked, and you may have purposely swung your hips a little more than usual for him.

now, you and drew were laid up on your couch together, he sat with his legs spread, his arms resting on the top of the couch, you were laying against his side, you head rest on his shoulder, and your knees bent, toes brushing against the side of his thigh. drew’s hand came down to play with your hair and you snuggled your face closer into him. “how was filming yesterday?” you sighed “long, i had a lot of pole dancing scenes to film.” drew leaned his head back, letting out a groan. “why would you tell me that?” you chuckled, you had noticed this effect you had on him, and adored using it to your advantage. deciding to make it way worse you turned your head, so that you could whisper directly into his ear. “they had me dressed in barely anything, drew.” you whined, he shot up, picking you up with ease and throwing you over his shoulder. “that’s it. we’re going swimming.” you giggled loudly, punching his back, and kicking your feet as he walked to your room.

spending time with drew felt effortless, everything about him set your mind to ease and your heart ablaze. just like now, when he lounged on your bed in a pair of swim trunks you had found, while you changed into your bikini in the walk-in closet. drew’s eyes widened as you came into view, the white bikini leaving basically nothing to imagination. not that it mattered, drew had seen everything anyway. he sat up spreading his legs apart, and you stepped into the space. drew’s hands came up to your bare legs, caressing the flesh. your hands came up to his hair. stroking the strands, pushing them back from his face. drew hummed “i can’t believe you’re real.” you smiled at him. “thanks, pretty.” drew made a face, tugging you onto his lap so that you sat sideways across his thigh. “shouldn’t i be calling you pretty?” he stroked your thighs with his large hand. “ok, what should i say? yea, you’re well fit, lad.” you exaggerated your accent. he laughed “yea, alright, let’s just get in the pool?”

you were sat on the edge, your legs submerged in the cool water. the heavy LA sun was beating down on your back. but the heat wasn’t bothering you like it usually would, not when the shirtless man wading through your pool is the sexiest man you’ve ever seen. you laughed loudly as drew splashed and you aggressively kicked your legs in attempt to splash him back. drew grabbed you by the waist and lifted you from where you were sat. you wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. marvin gaye’s distant lover blaring loudly from the speakers. the two of you didn’t feel the need to speak to each other. simply enjoying each other’s presence in the cool water. drew’s hands stroking your back in comforting circles. you couldn’t help yourself from placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. he smiled at the gesture. a heartbreaking smile that only confirmed your growing feelings for him. he returned the gesture with a soft peck to your chin.

now the two of you sat on the couch in your patio. sunglasses perched on your noses, sharing a marlboro red. drew was quiet, deep in thought with serious look on his face, but you didn’t bother him, knowing that he would bring it up to you himself. the smoke wafted into the air as you handed him the cigarette for one last drag before he put it out on the ashtray that sat next to him on the couch. you sighed leaning your head onto his shoulder, his hand tangled in your wet hair. your legs bent up on the couch, his spread. “i wanna say something.” you turned your head so that you look up at him without lifting from your place on his shoulder. he really is so pretty. “i know it’s still early, and that you’re going back to london once you’re done filming, but this—today—actually, any time i spend with you is the happiest i’ve felt in my life. and i want to be able to be how we were today everyday, in front of everyone. i don’t want to hide what i feel for you. and if you don’t feel the same that’s ok, i just want you to know that i’ve never felt like this before, these past few months have shown me how good we are together.”

you smiled he was so sweet and so nervous and you thought it wouldn’t be long before you would fall in love with him, or maybe you already have, “i want that too, drew.” his cheeks were pink and he stared down at you with those cerulean eyes, filled with hope and adoration and your heart stirred. “yea?” his voice was low and shaky, like you held his heart in your hands, bared and beating, just for you. “yea.” you brought your hand to his face, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. he nodded as his eyes rushed between your eyes and lips before he crashed his lips with yours. the kiss was messy like he was conveying every emotion he had kept pent up, in fear that you wouldn’t feel the same. but now that he knew you did, there was no need to hide anymore.

TAGLIST: @sunnybunnyy2 @percysley @wearemadeofstardust0 @idgasb @pinkpantheris @emmaaas-posts @grace-sully @chimmysoftpaws @angvl3tears @josephandrewstarkey

i’m back!!!! i’ve been overseas and literally got back today and wanted to get back to it so here’s this one for you guys. also i’m in the midst of updating my tag list so bare with me, and as always hope you enjoyed!! xx

[sceletaflores]

woo, my baby's got me all mixed up!

feat: logan howlett & wade wilson

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, fem!reader, swearing, a bastard doomed polycule, more of 'why have just one bf when you can two bf's and why have just two bf's when you can have two bf's that are also each other’s bf's???', p in v, double penetration, one (1) single use of daddy, creampie(s), fingering...kind of (fem!receiving), oral sex, face sitting, face fucking, straight up nasty porn w/ zero plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: this is a shorter one-shot but i can't not format it like a full fic i have to or i'll get hives. this is also just pure freak nasty gross actually probably the filthiest thing i've ever written that i thought up off too much nyquil pm last night. kisses!

wade gets to whiskin’ (and logan's there too)…

"You're killing me babe," Wade groans lowly, cheek pressed to the slick skin of your inner thigh. "If my balls didn't feel like they just got the shit beat out of them in a back alley I'd be as hard as David Hasselhoff watching David Hasselhoff movies."

His hand is at work between your thighs, thick index finger slipped into your sensitive, puffy pussy.

It should gross you out that he loves doing this so much. It should make your stomach twist with all the unpleasant feelings a normal person might get.

It should, but it doesn't.

The familiar stretch is lost from taking Logan and Wade at the same time, a rare thing in your sex life because of how big they both are. But you were in a mood tonight.

Your pussy still clenches around him, trying in vain to tighten up, not used to feeling so empty.

The subtle pressure of Wade’s finger toes the line between pleasure and the sharp burn of 'almost too much' as it swirls along the sensitive walls of your pussy.

The first time he did it you were too fucked out of your mind to do anything other than ask what the hell he was doing.

"Gotta mix it up babe," was his reply, as easy as anything. "Don't want the baby batter to curdle, if you know what I mean."

Your heart stopped, flames lapping their way up your body as Wade scooped the thin line of come trickling from your abused hole to fuck it back in, back where it belonged.

It was so filthy, so depraved that it made you go liquid between your legs.

Your eyes almost immediately slid over to Logan, ready to see him shaking his head in irritation like he usually did whenever Wade ran his mouth in bed. You found nothing, no deep grimace or raised brow in sight.

There was an unmistakable heat in his gaze that matched your own, the inky black of his pupils blown so wide you could hardly see the hazel of his irises.

The casual raise of his right shoulder when he met your eye was undermined by the way his cock started to harden where it laid against his thigh, effectively tattling on him.

It told you all you needed to know about how he really felt watching Wade between your spread legs. That alone was enough to get you ready to go all over again.

It sort of became a thing after that.

"I'm not even doing anything..." you mumble breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't have to baby," Logan purrs from behind you, lips pressed to the top of your head. His hand skimming down the side of your body is enough to make goosebumps pebble along your skin, "Look perfect just like this."

It's been hours now, but they're still going. You're convinced that the two of them are the world's biggest horndogs, just once is never enough.

You lost track of tonight's rounds sometime after number five, not counting mouth and hand stuff of course. And it's starting to catch up to you, you’re tired, spent.

Wade curls his finger just right, brushing against the spot inside you that has a broken whine passing through your grit teeth. Your thighs start to tremble as a smug grin spreads across his face.

"Yeah, there it is," he teases, his voice low. He keeps the tip of his finger snug against that spot, rubbing firm circles over the sensitive nerves. "That's that spot ain't it, gorgeous."

"Wade," you mewl, hands fisting the sheets as you fight to keep still. You're worried too much squirming will make their come start dripping out around Wade's wrist, and you can't have that.

There’s a sudden silence to your right, the heaviness of it pulling at your attention. You shift slightly, catching the faintest rustle of movement from Logan.

His breath is warm against the crown of your skill, his strong chest still plastered to your back—but he's too quiet, too still. You tilt your head just enough to peek at him out of the corner of your eye, and the sight alone is almost enough to make you come on the spot.

Logan is leaning against the headboard lazily, arm that isn't circled around your waist snaking down his own with the hard length of his cock in his hand.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him, red and leaking pre-come all over his knuckles each time he twists his fist over the thick head. Your hips grind down unconsciously, a needy moan falling from your parted lips. The wet sound of it has your cheeks burning, eyes fixed on the way his heavy balls bounce with each rough tug, still so full.

"Fuck, that's it," Wade murmurs, slipping a second finger inside you while he presses a shit-eating grin to the soft skin of your lower stomach. "You like it when daddy jerks off while I'm knuckle deep in you?"

"Watch it," Logan mutters warningly, tone gone low and dark as spilled ink. His hand doesn't slow, the loose grip of his fist slipping up and down his dripping cock in time with the slick squelch of your pussy.

Your hips buck up against Wade’s hand, a loud whine tearing from your chest at the dirtiness of this whole thing. The familiar heat starts to stir in your belly, your pussy drooling more mess over his wrist the longer he plays with you.

Wade barely muffles his chuckle against your hip, dropping a quick kiss there before pulling his soaked fingers from your velvety warmth. You whine at the loss, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.

You’ll both get what you want soon enough.

"Alright, we should all know the drill by now people," he announces to you and Logan with a loud clap, pulling away from between your thighs to roll flat onto his back.

“Time to hop on the saddle, John Wayne,” he finishes, giving your ass a loving tap.

Logan snorts into your hair, dropping his cock to grab your hips and gently manhandle you until you’re situated directly over Wade’s face while Logan kneels in front of you. The jut of his cock bobbing inches away from your mouth.

Wade’s greedy fingers pry your swollen lips apart to watch the way his and Logan’s come starts to seep out from you, falling to drip onto his bare chest. He blows over the wet length of you, the cool air from his mouth has your hips twitching down in search of any friction you can get.

“Not so fast,” he scolds lightly, grinding his knuckle against the wet seam of you. Your nails dig crescent moons into his scarred shoulders, threatening to break the skin.

“You’ve gotta savor this moment, hot stuff,” he says slowly, leaning up to press a kiss directly over your throbbing clit. “You got the best seat in the house, don’t take it for granted–”

"Enough," Logan grunts, heavy hands falling on your shoulders to push you down on Wade's face, fully closing the gap. "Quit runnin' your damn mouth and make our girl feel good, red."

Wade's hands tighten their hold on your thighs, his hips bucking up off the mattress like he can't help it. His surprised moan rumbles against your clit, loud and shameless.

You cry out at the first drag of his tongue over your aching pussy, hot and wet as it slides through your dripping slit. You pitch forward, too caught up in pleasure to think clearly as you take Logan’s cock into your mouth. You take him all the way down to the root in one swift move, burying your nose in the dark hair surrounding the base. 

"Fuck," Logan bites out, eyes twisting shut as he feels your warm throat enveloping him. He takes your hair in his fist gently, just holding it as you swallow around him. 

Your hands move to rest on his thick thighs, nails scratching over the hair scattered along his skin. His breath shutters in his chest, his hips rolling forward ever so slightly, chasing the tight heat of your mouth.

The mix of your tongue tracing along the sensitive vein on the underside of his cock and the low, wet sounds of Wade devouring you has him pulsing in your mouth.

Your thighs shake on either side of Wade's head, the steady grip of his hands the only thing that keeps you from collapsing into a boneless heap on the mattress.

Your hips twitch the tiniest bit, rocking forward enough to grind your clit over the slope of his nose. He groans under you, squeezing the meat of your thighs in encouragement as he swirls his tongue through the mess dripping from your hole.

“That’s a good girl,” Logan praises gruffly, his hips speeding up. “Shut him up, baby. Make him fuckin’ eat it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, dragging your pussy along Wade’s mouth faster. You moan desperately around your mouthful, brain going hazy around the edges.

The frantic pace you set only makes their come leak from you faster, dripping down Wade’s face faster than he can keep up, and there's just so much.

A steady, thick stream of it that feels almost never ending thanks to Logan coming like he busted a pipe and absolutely flooding your insides every single time.

Wade doesn’t seem deterred in the slightest though, swirling his tongue along you with a new sense of urgency. His hands grip your hips tighter, his blunt nails digging into your skin deliciously as he slurps and sucks with unbridled enthusiasm, chasing every drop of come.

He’s sloppy with it, come sliding down his cheeks and chin in thin rivers of white.

Logan’s rough breath hitches above you, his fingers tightening in your hair as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks just the way he likes. His growl sends a thrill down your spine.

"C'mon, Wilson," Logan grunts, his hips speeding up. When you peer up at him, you can see the goading smile that just barely tugs the corner of his mouth up.

“Spitters are quitters, you know that."

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[lokidjarin-7567]

The Alchemy

Hwang In-ho (professor AU) x Reader

Your chemistry professor caught your eye the moment you walked into class, and as time went on, you couldn’t deny your feelings anymore. Did he feel it too, or were you doomed to heartbreak?

fem!reader x Professor Hwang In-ho, smut, fluff, a little angst and everything in between, badly edited, multiple POV, 18+ MDNI

8.5k words (sorry not sorry)

And here it is!! I’ve been obsessed with him for a while now, so very glad Squid Game is giving him the recognition he deserves from a Western audience. Decided to da a Professor AU because yum, so hope you enjoy x

Taglist: @nicki-lovesolderfictionalmen @jamiewritesfanfiction-blog @nunita23

TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3

You knew it was wrong. Your obsession with him. Everything about him was thoroughly captivating to you: the way he spoke, the way he dressed, the way he walked around the lecture hall with such confidence. You were enthralled every single lesson, so attentive and studious, hanging on his every last word like it was some kind of spell for everlasting life. Really, if you thought about it, it was actuallly a good thing. Your grades were better, you hadn’t missed a single lecture since the term began, and you were putting more effort into your studies in a desperate effort to impress him. And the cherry on top of the cake was that he had noticed. He knew you by name, he always picked you first if you had your hand up, and he even added complimentary comments to your papers. Even if he was old enough to be your dad, even if there was a power imbalance, even if nothing could ever happen between you, your crush only continued to grow stronger.

“I know, I know, class is nearly over, but we’ve got a few more things to cover, so let’s wake you all up with a little organic pop-quiz.” A few groans echoed around the room, but you smiled. Organic chemistry was your favourite, especially when he taught it, so you watched as he drew a few molecules on the whiteboard. A formula, and a damn easy one.

“Can anyone tell me the primary product here?” Your hand was up before the question was finished, but you tried to limit your keen nature - only half-raising your hand lazily as you doodled the finished equation on your notepad. You liked to think you were quite good at hiding your adoration for him. Yes, you could listen to him talk for hours, but you knew when to watch him and when to take notes. You knew when to speak up and when to stay quiet. You could control your face, aside from the occasional blush, never sitting there with puppy-dog eyes or biting your pen like they do in the movies. You were subtle - small smiles after a compliment, gazing with admiration when he wasn’t looking, answering any questions quickly but with professionalism and confidence. The perfect student. But you never, ever flirted. You knew that was academic suicide, especially with a Professor as influential as him. You were content with detached obsession. For now, at least.

Your heart did flutter, though, at the smile and small chuckle he gave when he saw your hand.

“Of course, the only student I have that actually enjoys organic…” You heard a few hums of agreement from the students behind you, saw the nods from the ones in front. You smiled at your reputation.

“What can I say, at least you always have someone to answer your questions…” Another laugh, music to your ears.

“That is true. Go ahead.”

“Well, that’s ethanol and that’s ethanoic acid so you would produce ethyl ethanoate.”

“Ah, I made it too easy for you! Should have mixed up the length of the polymers so you would have to think about which prefix came first.” Another flash of a smile.

“Rookie error.” You joked, and it was the closest you’d ever been to flirting. The back and forth was making you blush, the way his eyes were fixed to you from the front of the classroom. You were in your usual spot in the third row - the perfect distance to see him clearly, but not too close to look keen. Although, that point was kind of defeated by the amount of times your hand was first up, no matter how nonchalantly you tried to do it. His eyes were glittering with a slight playfulness now, head slightly cocked and you were bewitched as a few locks of his neat hair fell across his forehead.

“In that case, come and draw it for me please.” Fuck. He looked pleased with himself, hand brushing the fallen strands back, small smirk playing across his features. You sighed, heading to the front of the room in defeat. He handed you the whiteboard pen, fingers brushing yours just slightly. They were soft, delicate and warm, and his eyes were firmly fixed on you as you muttered a quiet thank you. You didn’t get to see him this close often, but you didn’t have time to take him in beyond the deep brown of his eyes, his height compared to yours, and the light scent of sandalwood that seemed to cling to the air around him even after he had walked past you back to the front of the room.

“While she’s doing that, can someone else tell me the uses of this ester please?” You were grateful your back was to the rest of the class, a furious blush spreading across your cheeks at the proximity. He glanced back at your shorthand sketch, giving you a small nod of encouragement.

“Good, and in full please.” You obeyed wordlessly, just finishing the second bond on the oxygen when the bell rang.

“That’s it for today then, everybody. Check the online portal for the homework.” He called out above the sound of bags being packed. “Oh, and there are more practical classes this term, so your timetables are also on the portal for those. I know they’re boring, and I know you’ve done them all a million times, but you have to do them again to pass!” He sighed, half the class already gone by the time he finished his sentence. He turned back to you, holding his hand out with a smile and you passed the marker back to him, careful not to brush his hand this time. As much as you wanted to feel his skin against yours again, you would blush too obviously to get away with it. “Thank you,” he said to you quietly, “I know at least one student will show for the practicals.”

“No worries.” You didn’t want to leave yet, allowing yourself to enjoy the being around him a little now the rest of the class was clearing out. He was wearing your favourite suit today - charcoal grey wool - with a soft, baby blue shirt and a navy tie. He was meticulous as ever: understated silver tie pin perfectly level, tie itself knotted immaculately, hair brushed back neatly. Even his shoes were perfect, not a single scuff on the leather. Being around him like this was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but talk to him just a little more as the last student filed out of the room. “What will the first practical be, out of interest?” You asked, forcing yourself to move back to your desk and slowly pack up your things.

“Just a distillation, I think...” He replied, trailing off and absentmindedly flicking through a few papers on his desk. You nodded, sensing his loss of interest, slinging your bag over your shoulder with just a hint of disappointment.

“Ok, sounds good. Thank you Professor…” You turned towards the door, but froze when you heard him call your name. You turned back around to see him looking at you slightly expectantly, a nervous energy buzzing from him that you’d never seen before.

“Before you go, I was just wondering if you’d picked an advisor yet? I know the decision is coming up in a few weeks.”

“No, I haven’t actually…” In all honestly, you had two options. And he was one of them. Of course he was. He was the best in the university, not to mention one of the best in his field. You learnt the most from him, you had the best relationship with him compared to the rest of your Professors. There were only two reasons why he wouldn’t be a perfect choice. Firstly, he was very picky with who he takes on, but if this conversation was going the way you thought it was, problem solved. The second, and much bigger, issue was your little obsession. If he was your advisor, you would see him one-on-one every two weeks at least, on top of class time, practicals time and in between all of that if you had questions. And for most people that had a crippling crush like you did, they would be jumping for joy at the opportunity to spend more quality time with them. But you didn’t want that. You didn’t want to make a move on him, or make your feelings for him obvious because it could destroy everything you had worked so hard towards. But equally, having him on your side was a great accolade, and it would do you wonders in your academic career.

You were a big girl. You could handle a little crush.

“Well…” He continued, hand running through his hair again before starting to pack up his own things. “I would very much like to fill that role unless you had anyone else in mind. You’re incredibly talented, and passionate about the subject in a way I don’t see often. You don’t have to decide right now, of course…”

“I would love that.” Your mouth had answered before your brain caught up, but his wide smile solidified your resolve.

“Excellent. Well, how does Friday sound for our first meeting? I think that’s when you’re scheduled for the practical, so that makes it easy…”

“That sounds perfect. Thank you, again, Professor Hwang, I appreciate the opportunity…”

“Not at all. The pleasure is all mine.” His wide smile warmed your heart thoroughly, and you left before you could melt into a puddle on the floor at the nature of his words.

It had been a couple of months now, and dear God, it was driving you insane. You’d made a huge mistake, and unfortunately for you, it was an unfixable one. He was the perfect advisor in every way - attentive, intelligent, willing, passionate, everything you could ever want. But being so close to him was driving you crazy. Once a fortnight, it was just you and him in his office, talking for an hour, joking, laughing, fighting every urge in your body to climb across the desk and give in to your desires. You had even started to dress up for him - purposely putting in extra effort the days you knew you had a meeting. The crush was getting much worse too, obsession starting to take over. For days after your meeting, all you could do was analyse every tiny interaction you had, every time he looked at you or spoke to you or even breathed differently. And fucking hell it was driving you insane.

You were sure it was getting harder to hide too. Before, it was less of a crush, more an admiration. Yes, you were aware he was attractive, but more than anything, you were capitavated by his teaching and passion. Now, all of that was still true, but all you could think about was how much you wanted to fuck him. Twice just that week you had missed half the class caught up in a daydream, not even being able to answer him when he called on you, too busy thinking about him bending you over his desk and having his way with you. Your last paper got a B because every time you tried to write, all you could think about was him reading it. What he would be wearing when he graded it at home. Comfortable clothes, surely, hair messy and uncouth. What he would think of it, whether he would smile at your words and add little notes when he agreed with what you were saying. Whether he truly thought as much about you while reading it as you thought of him while writing it.

You’d fucked up. You’d gotten too close, irreversibly so, and now, you had to see him today. You knew he would have something to say about your grades dropping. It was getting too obvious. You just hoped he would accept whatever bullshit you managed to invent on the spot. Your knuckles rapped against his office door, heart stuck in your throat.

**

She had caught his eye the minute she stepped into his lecture hall that first day of term. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly about her, whether it was her eyes, or hair, or lips. Or maybe it was just her. The confidence she seemed to exude, her sense of style, the studious and determined look she always seemed to have on her face. She was the most active participant in his classes, and every time he called on her, she would answer with such enthusiasm and excitement. He could tell how much she genuinely enjoyed the subject from the very first lesson, and even as the term continued, her passion didn't waver like some students’ did. She hadn’t missed a single lecture - always there in the same spot on the third row, and he was grateful for her choice of seat. It was close enough to see her, not too close to make it obvious that he was staring, and it was also far enough into the classroom that he had time to admire her while she made her way to her seat. To watch her while she was focussed elsewhere - namely, walking down the stairs without falling over. He enjoyed the time it gave him to work out how she was feeling on a day, whether she seemed dejected or excited, shy or outgoing. He liked how easy it was for him to read her.

And, if he was honest with himself, he liked the attention too. The first time he saw her, he knew he would be head over heels for a little while, and he accepted that. She was his student, and nothing could happen, so he buried it and got on with his lectures as usual, with only a few extra glances thrown her way when he knew she wouldn't be looking. But then he noticed it. The coy smiles, the extended glances, the occasional time he caught her biting her lip or pen. The way she blushed furiously if he ever caught her in the act. The first few times, he wrote it off as coincidence and wishful thinking, but eventually, it clicked that there was something there. Something charged. And he thrived off that energy.

That was why he had put forward the idea of being her advisor. If he was honest, he knew it was a terrible idea. That it could get messy, that he could get too close, that he would hurt his own feelings. But ultimately, he wanted to be near her as much as possible, and at the end of the day, in every scenario of shit hitting the fan, he was always the one that got fucked over. His feelings were clearly stronger than hers - something he had noticed recently swelling in his heart unreciprocated - and he was the one with his job on the line. He was the only one at risk, and he was willing to take that risk to be closer to her.

Recently, though, she’d seemed different. Distracted. Stressed. Avoidant. Her grades were dropping, she was barely talking in class and when he spoke to her one-on-one, he would catch her shrinking back into herself if she laughed too much, as though she was second guessing everything she did. He’d done everything to hide his feelings, and honestly, he thought he was doing a good job, but maybe she felt uncomfortable around him. Maybe he was being obvious and he’d misread her feelings. Or maybe she was just going through a rough patch in her personal life.

He had a meeting with her today, and he couldn’t think of anything but seeing her for the whole day. What she would be wearing, how or if he would broach the topic, what he should even say to her… He was struggling to concentrate on his lectures, mind wandering to her.

The relief washed through his body when he heard her knuckles softly knock against the door. He was worried she wouldn’t even come.

“Come in.” She opened the door cautiously, small smile on her lips. She looked more beautiful than she ever had somehow. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, just some natural blush and mascara, and her hair was down and framing her face perfectly. Her outfit was simple but classy; all black, simple satin skirt and skintight tee, chunky knit cardigan over the top.

“Hi Professor.” She replied cheerily, but there was a hint of something unreadable in her voice. Weariness, maybe? Stress? “How has your day been?” He smiled as they fell into their usual chatty routine, mind slightly at ease.

“Not too bad, thank you, although a few too many lectures for my liking. How was yours?” She laughed lightly, the sound warming his heart.

“Same problem for me too. A lot of lectures, none of them particularly interesting…” it seemed as though she wanted to say something else but bit her tongue, and he couldn’t help but feel himself deflate. He wanted her to be able to feel more comfortable around him, but she was holding herself back.

“That’s because I wasn’t teaching them…” The words fell from his lips before he could stop them, but to his relief, she smiled, a small chuckle escaping from her.

“Something like that.” She paused for a beat, seeming awkward and unsure. “Look, Professor, before we get into the stuff about my dissertation, I just wanted to talk to you about something…” The serious nature of her tone made his heart lurch, and he wanted to reach out and hold her hands, to drain away her evident nerves. She wasn’t even meeting his eyes, just wringing her hands in her lap as she tried to say what she needed to.

“Of course, my office is always an open space to talk about whatever you need to.” He hoped his words were comforting, and by her small smile, they had at least offered some small reassurance.

“I just wanted to apologise. I know my grades have been slipping a little the past few weeks, and I just wanted to make sure you knew that I’m on it and I’m doing everything to get them back up. I think I’ve just been a little distracted, and I don’t know really…” She was rambling, and his heart hurt for her. Yes, he had noticed her grades slipping a little, but it was from an A to a B for maybe two papers and a quiz. It wouldn’t affect her overall grade, and it certainly wouldn’t affect his opinion of her. He couldn’t help but wonder why she felt the need to apologise or explain herself.

“You have no reason to apologise. Everyone has better weeks than others, and it’s not going to affect your performance in my class or anything like that…”

“But…” she looked confused, as though she was genuinely trying to figure out why he wasn’t annoyed with her. “You’re Professor Hwang. I mean, you’re the best in your department, maybe even in the whole university. You pick your students that you want to advise because they’re the best, and I’ve not been…”

“First of all, I definitely am the best Professor in the *whole university*, thank you, but more importantly, that’s not why I pick people to mentor. I pick people based on their passion, talent, and work ethic. Not because they’re a machine who churns out A* papers every single week and has nothing else going on in their life that might affect that.” Once he’d finished talking, he looked up at her to see her close to tears, still staring at her hands in her lap.

“I, um…” she cleared her throat, finally meeting his eyes with a gratefulness he hadn’t seen in her before. A vulnerability he didn’t recognise, but wanted to see more of nonetheless. “Thank you for saying that. Really. None of my other Professors seem to think in that way.” Then under her breath, barely audible, she added something extra. “Neither do my family for that matter.”

“Well, as I said, my office is always open. If you ever have something you need to talk about, I’m here.”

“Thank you, truly.” She replied earnestly, and found himself struggling to reply as his heart swelled. He hadn’t realised how protective he felt over her until he saw her upset, but now, hand clenched by his side at the thought of someone making her feel unworthy over a few grades, he realised that maybe his feelings had blossomed a little more than he wanted them to.

The day after was another practical class. Just a titration, a check box more than anything with the calibre of his students. They knew what they were doing. Especially her. It would hopefully be an easy half hour; just let them do their thing, tick it off in the system, and be finished with it.

What he hadn't banked on, however, was the student that seemed to spend his whole time flirting with her.

She had been the first in the classroom that afternoon. She seemed tired, the last lesson after a likely busy day, but even more so than usual, her normally flawless makeup doing little to hide the puffy bags under her eyes. Her outfit was clean and put together, but a lot more basic than what she usually wore, just jeans and a baby tee, with none of her usual quirky flourishes. He was about to ask if she was ok, to talk to her more than the perfunctory hello she had thrown his way at the door when another student entered the classroom close behind her. The whole space was empty, but he decided to sit directly beside her. She seemed annoyed, making polite small talk but not much else and he just didn't seem to be taking the hint. He was leaning too close, laughing too loud, looking at her for too long…

His own jealousy surprised him. It was rage, pure and simple, white hot and blinding. He felt inordinately possessive, wanting nothing more than to shove him across the classroom and teach him a lesson about personal space, but as more students piled in to the space, all he could do was glare and hope he got the hint. Eventually though, she solved the problem herself. He had been so close to interfering, so blinded by anger he had started to move towards her bench, but she just stood up, and walked away from him mid sentence, ignoring him completely. The look of shock on his face was priceless, but the joy it brought him was quickly replaced with anger once again as the kid shifted in his seat, blushing red and muttering ‘bitch’ under his breath. If In-ho had a knife, he genuinely could have killed him in that moment. Because how fucking dare he.

But instead, he breathed in deeply before moving over to him calmly and giving him a menacing, tight-lipped smile. The student met his eyes with a perplexed look, but he just spoke over him before he had a chance to say anything else.

“If you ever talk about one of my students, let alone a woman, like that again, you will be barred from my class and the entirety of the chemistry department for the rest of your academic career, both at this school and wherever else you may choose to study. Is that crystal clear?” He said it so calmly, so coldly, that the kid just sat there in stunned silence for a moment, and he had to raise his eyebrow to prompt him to answer.

“Um… yes… yes Professor.” He stammered, and he smiled again without any warmth.

“Good, now find a new desk and complete your practical, or else you’ll have to retake my class, and you really don't want that, do you?” He shook his head frantically, scrambling away with his things and finding a space near the back of the room.

She looked confused for a moment when she got back to the now empty bench, but on glancing around the room and meeting his eyes, she smiled warmly at him in gratitude, blush spreading across her cheeks. He would do anything if it meant she smiled at him like that.

It had been an hour, and apart from one broken conical flask, there had been no major mishaps, and almost all of his students had finished their titrations. Except for her. She was on her fourth attempt now, the last student apart from her silently filing out of the classroom, and she was getting increasingly frustrated each time. He was trying to be subtle, to not make her feel pressured at all, but he couldn't help but watch as she turned the stopcock so slightly, letting a single drop fall into the flask, and he watched it turn colour perfectly… until the stopcock wasn't closed properly, another few drops sneaking through and pushing it past the end point colour.

“Fuck!” Every other attempt, it had been a quiet frustration, hidden under her breath, but this time she couldn't help it, cursing loudly and slamming her hand on the table. He could hear her heavy breaths even from across the room, her hand dragging through her hair in annoyance. She almost looked close to tears, just staring at the failed experiment. He muttered her name in concern, standing up ready to help her, but she just shook her head, grabbing the flask and heading to empty it.

“I’m so sorry for my outburst, Professor, my language was completely inappropriate…”

“No that’s not it at all, curse all you want…” He moved over to her desk as he spoke, but she was busying herself setting up again, not meeting his eyes. So he said her name again, firmly but kindly, garnering her attention without upsetting her. It worked, and she stopped moving for a moment, slightly out of breath in frustration. “Are you ok? You don’t seem yourself at all…” She was grinding her jaw as he spoke, trying to hold her emotions back, but a tear fell from her eye regardless, rolling down her cheek. She huffed loudly, wiping it away quickly and looking to the ceiling, trying to blink back the other tears that were threatening to spill.

“I’m fine.” She insisted, but her voice cracked as she did, another tear escaping as she muttered another curse under her breath. “Sorry, I’m just wasting your time today…”

“Never.” He said firmly, moving to her side of the desk. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know what going on, I just can’t seem to…” another tear rolled down her cheek, his heart broke for her.

“Hey, take a second, just breathe, ok? Sit down, cry if you need to, just take a moment.” She nodded, sitting down on the lab stool with a snuffle. He sat down too, tucking his stool slightly closer to her and waiting until she was ready.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m just overwhelmed. I didn’t sleep too well last night, so I’ve been exhausted all day. One of my professors gave me shit for being late even though the bus broke down on my way here, and that ruined my mood. Another lecture turned out to be some surprise test thing nobody had prepared for so that was horrible. And… well I’m just rambling now and I don’t know if I’ve told you this yet but I might as well at this point because I guess it’s something you should know as my advisor - I have general anxiety disorder and…” she paused, catching her breath and scoffing slightly as she continued speaking quickly, “well, and a whole host of other things I don’t have time to go into but I’ve spent most of the afternoon warding off panic attacks hence the…” She trailed off, holding up her hand which was shaking like a leaf. “So I can’t focus, I can’t control the equipment even though I’ve done at least 30 titrations in my academic career and I was honestly just looking forward to seeing… to doing something practical with my day but…” He didn’t think she’d even noticed the tears starting to fall, but he did immediately. He also noticed the way her voice was getting breathier, and the increasingly frantic look in her eyes. He was worried. She seemed worn out, way too thinly strung and now here she was, crying over an experiment he knew she could do in her sleep. She needed to take care of herself for a bit, to take it easy. But right now, maybe he could help.

His hand moved to her face, brushing the tears away before moving to her shoulder and squeezing.

“Hey, slow down. Look at me. Breathe.” He took a long deep breath, his eyes fixed firmly to hers as she copied, repeating the action a few times. He watched as she slowly seemed to calm, shoulders dropping and tears drying up. “That’s better.”

“I’m so sorry, this was only supposed to take like half an hour. I’ve derailed your whole afternoon, I just don’t know what’s come over me today.” He sighed. The way she felt she had to be sorry for being human made him feel so protective of her, so willing to hurt anyone who made her feel this way.

“You’re stressed, you didn’t sleep well and your anxiety is flaring up. None of that is something you have to apologise for. And you definitely don’t have to apologise for derailing my day - my evening consists of grading papers and getting an early night. Both of those things can wait even if this titration takes all night.” She laughed, wiping away the last of her tears with a grateful smile.

“Thank you.” Her hand moved to rest atop his, which was still sitting on her arm, squeezing slightly. His breath caught briefly at the contact, and it took all the self control in his body to not lean into her touch, to kiss her then and there.

“Always…” he muttered, smiling softly, and after another beat, he slid his hand away, feeling cold at the lack of warmth from her. “Now,” he took a deep breath, grounding himself to reality. *Student, teacher, do the maths - not a good idea.* “Let’s finish this practical.”

**

His presence was so calming to you. After four failed attempts, you were already doing a lot better - hands steady, breaths even, a serenity you hadn't felt all day. He wasn’t even helping you; just being nearby was enough. He’d grabbed a few papers from his desk and was quietly grading while you worked, the occasional turn of paper and scratch of pen relaxing you. It was starting to get to the difficult part now, but your hands didn't fail you, adding the titrate drop by drop, swirling the flask until… it stayed pink. Just enough, a soft wash of magenta, and you couldn't help but grin.

“See…” he muttered, not once looking up from his papers, “I told you you could do it.” You smiled even wider, holding back every urge within you to hug him.

“Thank you.” You settled on the sentiment instead, jotting down the final measurements. “And…”

“I swear if you try to apologise again, I will kick you out of my class once and for all.” God he knew you so well. You chuckled lightly, biting your tongue to stop you from apologising for that as well.

“Never again, I promise.”

You had packed up, moving as quickly as possible to ensure you didn't waste any more of his time, but honestly, you wanted to be around him just a little longer. Today had taught you that maybe your ever-growing feelings might not be a problem, but a help. He was so calming to be around, so good at putting your doubt and anxiety at ease, and talking to him was easy, terrifyingly so. His company was soothing, and on bad days, at least you knew you had a place to go.

And now, you had to face the long bus to your off-campus apartment, followed by an evening alone with your thoughts.

You had sorted your things, putting on your coat and pulling up the hood, bracing yourself to head out in the dark and rainy evening.

“Thank you again for everything, Professor, I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Wait…” he called out your name as you opened the door, and you paused, internally sighing in relief. “How are you getting home?”

“Just the bus from campus, its not far to the station from here…”

“I’ll take you, I’m leaving here anyway.”

“No, I couldn't ask you to do that, Sir…”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering. Where am I taking you?” You blushed at his comment, heart leaping at the authoritative tone, but telling him anyway. “That's only a few streets away from me, it’s not out of my way at all.”

“Only if you’re sure…”

“I wouldn't have offered otherwise.”

You had made it to the awning of the building, the last moment of peace before you were bombarded by the rain. He followed you out, sighing slightly.

“Do you smoke?” He asked, and the question surprised you slightly. He’d never struck you as the type, but now, as you turned around to see him standing with a cigarette dangling between his lips, you couldn't believe how natural it looked.

“Yeah…” You were relieved. You had been desperate for one all afternoon, but hadn't had a chance. You moved to open your handbag, unsure of where you'd left them, but he had already extended his pack out towards you. You smiled.

“Thank you…” He lit yours first, shielding it with his hands for you, and you couldn't help but notice how close he was to you. He lit his own, and you watched it awe at his beauty as the lighter illuminated his face. His first drag was long and desperate, the deep sigh he let out when he breathed echoing your own relief. You wondered if that's what he’d be like when you were on your knees for him quiet but needy, hand running through his hair and…

“What are your plans this weekend?” You blushed, not at the question but what it had distracted you from, taking a drag while you composed yourself.

“Not much, just studying, finishing a few papers, the usual.”

“No plans with friends? A boyfriend?” He asked almost shyly, then blushed profusely. “Or girlfriend, or partner… sorry I didn't mean to assume.” You laughed at his embarrassment.

“No, no plans. Friends are all out of town or doing the same as me, and no boyfriend to have plans with.” You weren't sure why you felt like you had to clarify that. It was an instinct more than anything, something in you felt like he should know. “What about you? Any plans?”

“Nope, no plans either. Friends are all married with children, so they don't have weekends anymore. And my brother is out of town with work, so that just about rules out everyone.” Your heart sung at the lack of a girlfriend or wife mentioned, but you somehow managed to control your face. “I got a new jigsaw I might try…” You couldn't help but laugh out loud at that, and he laughed with you. “Sorry, I know thats like the oldest old person thing I could've said…”

“No I just… I was thinking the same thing but didn't want to seem old.” His turn to laugh loudly, a sound that warmed you through.

“You don't have to worry about that…”

“Neither do you.” You had replied quickly, without thinking, and suddenly the air was charged. He was looking you in a way that was unreadable, almost curious but there was something else brewing just under the surface. His eyes were locked onto yours, and you found yourself unable to look away, not letting yourself to be the first to break contact. You weren't sure what it was about today - maybe just because of how shitty you’d felt the last few days, how kind and caring he had been, how many times you’d been in touching distance of him - but you wanted him to know you were an option. Even if it was a bad idea, if it could ruin both of you, if it could destroy everything you'd ever worked towards… you suddenly didn't care. You needed him to know you were here, arms open and waiting, if he ever wanted you.

The car ride was quiet, silence only broken by the occasional attempt at small talk. It was as though the look you had shared earlier had shattered your ability to speak to each other normally, a cloud hanging over the both of you, threatening to pour. Eventually, you pulled up outside your building, and your heart broke that it was over. You had to leave now, to be alone in your flat, to try and relax without thinking about him. His touch, his laugh, his smell.

“Thank you for the lift.” You managed to croak out after sitting silent for a moment, voice laced with disappointment you didn’t have the energy to hide.

“Anytime.” He muttered back, and your hand moved to the door, eyes glazing over at the sight of the raindrops hitting the car window. You weren’t sure why you didn’t just leave, open the door and run inside, out of the rain, out of the tension. Maybe it was the weather, pushing you to take comfort somewhere warm and welcoming. Or maybe it was the scent of sandalwood and cigarettes that clung to the leather surrounding you. Or maybe it was the way your arm was still tingling where he had touched you earlier, his hands warm and expansive and calming. It didn’t really matter though. Regardless of the reason, you still chose to open your damn mouth one more time.

“I don’t want to wait until Monday to see you again.” Your voice was barely a whisper, barely audible, but from the way he muttered your name warningly, he heard. You flushed furiously, feeling so fucking stupid. You’d ruined everything. He was your advisor, your professor, your whole support system felled in one swoop. God, you were an idiot. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I’ll go.” You reached for the handle again, tears springing to the corners of your eyes.

“Wait.” His voice was… well, you weren’t sure. It sounded frustrated, sure, but also, there was a desperation in it. A need. He didn’t want you to leave either. “God, I’ve thought about how this might go so many times and never once landed on what I’d want to say.” There was a lump in your throat, and your hands fell back into your lap, turning to see the slightly pained expression on his face, almost pleading. His hair was messy, one hand raking through it as his eyes met yours. “There’s obviously… I mean it’s undeniable the way I… but I just…” He was so nervous, eyes scanning across your face frantically. “I’m your advisor. I’m your Professor. I’m in a position of authority here, its a power imbalance and I’m old enough to…” You had sat calmly listening to him ramble, so grateful that your feeling weren’t unrequited that you didn’t care what other excuses he would try to come up with.

“I don’t care.” He whispered your name again in warning, but softer, and you could see his resolve eroding with every second he was in your presence. “I mean it. You said it yourself, it’s undeniable. And now we’ve addressed it… what’s the harm in trying?” He still looked confused, pain wrought into his features as his eyes locked onto yours. And then, it was like you could see him accept that he couldn’t stop this now. That he didn’t want to. The fear gave way to longing, his hand cupping your jaw in a way that made your breath catch in your throat.

“I need you to…” The nerves were still clear in his voice, but his hand was definite, thumb brushing your lips and you leant into the touch, body naturally caving towards his. “Please tell me your want this. I need to be sure.”

“I want this.” You were so firm in your response, so final, he had no choice but to believe you.

He leant in, cupping your face in his hand, touch so strong, so definite, that any residual doubt melted away as his lips touch yours. It was fleeting, unsure, but not a moment before he had pulled away, you pressed back into him. Your kiss was desperate and bruising, hard and needy and full of months of pent up desire. He returned so fervently you sighed into his mouth, relief and arousal washing over your body. His hand moved to grip your hair, keeping you close, and you cursed internally that you were still in the car, centre console blocking your body from his. You were desperate to touch more of him, to feel his skin under your fingers, to run your hands across the ridges of his chest and up his arms. His grip was still strong in your hair, but you broke for air, watching with a smile as his lips chased yours. His evident need spurred you on, hand moving to rest against his chest and grip the pressed fabric of his shirt as you shared the air in the space between you.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” He muttered half-heartedly, but his blown pupils and subtle smile told you differently.

“Do you want to come upstairs?”

The elevator ride was tense, hand gripped in his, half expecting him to run away, but as soon as your door was open, his lips smashed into yours once more. His hands explored your waist, pressing you to the now closed door, body touching yours slightly. His mouth was saying something different to his body language: lips hungry and needy, body cautious. You were more confident, hands falling to his back and pulling him as close as possible to you. He groaned in response, a low guttural sound that left you panting into his hot mouth. You wanted to gasp his name, but you realised you didn’t know it, embarrassment clouding your mind. You pushed it away immediately, hands snaking round his solid form to his tie, loosening it like a woman starved and throwing it to the side.

“Hey…” he muttered alongside a pant of your name, fingers tracing your face in a tender way, “are you sure you want this?”

“More than anything.” The answer fell from your lips without you even thinking about it. You needed him. He smiled against your lips, hands trailing from your waist to your hips, an invitation. You started to undo his shirt buttons, hands finally coming into contact with his warm skin, hips bucking towards his. A moment of insecurity washed over you. You were young, younger than him by a long way, and while it didn’t bother you, you couldn’t help but wonder if being with someone with so much less experience would bother him. He’d asked for your assurance twice now, and you had just assumed he wanted the same. Maybe he was just here so he didn’t lose his job…

“Is this what you want too?” You whispered, so shy and unsure you could feel the blush spreading across your cheeks.

“More than anything.” His fingers traced your lips, eyes meeting yours, and he must’ve sensed their slightly hesitant nature. “Since the minute you walked into my classroom, I’ve wanted this.” He smiled slightly sheepishly then, eyes flitting down to scan your form. “You were wearing cord flares and a white tee, leather jacket slung over your bag. You looked so confident, so excited to be in my class… you weren’t even looking at me yet, but I saw a glint in your eye that reminded me of myself in my youth. Everything about you intoxicated me from the moment I locked eyes with you. I want this.” The last statement was so final, so raw, you gave in fully. You smiled, looking deep into his eyes to see them unwavering.

“In that case..” you muttered, puling away from his just slightly, pulling your shirt over your head before unbuttoning your jeans, letting them fall to the floor. He stepped back while you were undressing, eyes darkening as they scanned your whole body with desire.

“Fuck…” he muttered the word quietly to himself, continuing to look you up and down in a way that made you blush profusely. He followed suit quickly, slowly undoing the rest of your shirt buttons with a slight smile. You couldn’t help but gaze half-lidded at his bare form, muscles rippling with every deep breath he took. “Where’s your room?”

Your bra and his trousers were long discarded, your bare form pressed to his as he laid above you, hand resting by your head, holding him up as he devoured your mouth. His kisses were getting lower, pressing against your neck and chest as you could do nothing but pant at his every touch.

“Sir, are you…” you didn’t even finish your question, words lost in your tongue as he bit down softly against the pillowy flesh of your breast, a groan escaping his lips against you at the name you had chosen in the heat of the moment.

“Shh..” the soft sound escaped his lips as he continued to move his lips lower until his fingers hooked your pantries, pulling them down slowly, savouring your squirming.

“What are you…” your words were lost yet again as his mouth enveloped your bare pussy, tongue pressing a firm stripe through your folds. You moaned loudly, the sensation enveloping you as you pressed your hips further towards his mouth. He hummed in satisfaction at the movements from you, hands gripping your hips tightly as your thighs surrounded his head. His tongue was expert, circling your clit with perfect precision and you bucked into him again with a whimper, desperate for some direct contact. He chuckled against you, smiling up between your thighs and you could’ve cum there from the sight of him.

“Relax…” he muttered, surly tone immediately forcing your muscles to loosen, pressing into the bed. His tongue flicked across your clit, and you squirmed, pants and whines filling the room as he continued his assault on your sensitive nerves. “Good girl…” his voice rumbled against your cunt, almost pushing you to the edge there and then.

“Please…” was all you could force out, words jumbling in your mind as the pleasure started to take over. One hand released from your hips, and you barely registered as two fingers pushed inside you, thick and deep. You groaned, an animalistic noise drawn from the back of your throat as he hit the spot inside you that made you sing. Every inch of your body was on fire with need as his fingers filled you, tongue continuing its relentless attack on your clit. You were all but an incoherent mess of moans and pants as he kept going, pleasure building and building close to the point of being too much, nerves burning with desire as he feasted on you like a man starved. It didn’t take long for your orgasm to arrive, fast and brutal, blinding you as your thighs squeezed around him, sobs and whines falling from your lips as you rode out the waves on his tongue.

By the time you had caught your breath, his face was an inch from yours, pressing sloppy kisses your jaw and neck. You whimpered softly, feeling the slick he had left between your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his, blinking up at him stupidly.

“I want you…” his lips cut you off, deep and passionate as your words were swallowed by hood’s mouth. He tasted like you.

“You have me. Body and soul.” Your heart leapt at the sentiment, hand brushing through his hair with affection.

“Then fuck me.”

He was pressed against your back, and was impossibly deep inside you, hitting that spot that made your back arch. His hand was tangled in your hair again, lips to your neck as he somehow pressed deeper, and your hand found his thigh, holding him there.

“You feel so good.” You whispered, fucked out and satisfied, already multiple organs in from his perfect cock.

“I’m close baby,” he muttered against your ear, grinding against your ass as you whined for him so beautifully. He fit so perfectly inside you it felt handcrafted, and he groaned softly as he pulled out quickly, slamming back inside as his hips started to stutter. “So pretty, so perfect for me…” his hand reached around to your used clit, pressing gentle circles as you cried out. You would do anything for him, but you were exhausted and overstimulated, a few tears brimming in your eyes at the bliss and pain it provided.

“Please..” you whispered for the uncountable time that night, hips backing into his as he groaned, deep and animalistic. Your orgasm washed over you as he finally came, moaning against your neck as his teeth clamped down carefully.

“So fucking perfect…”

You felt so effortlessly relaxed beside him, sleep encroaching quicker than it ever had. You were exhausted and spent, but happy. Everything you’d wanted for months but refused to admit to yourself had come true, and tomorrow, you’d have to face the reality of it all. But for now, you were at peace, head rested against his chest and feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breaths. Your slumber had started to take you, eyes fluttering closed, when you heard his voice speak softly, as though trying not to disturb you.

“I hope this moment last forever.” You thought confirming his sentiment would somehow diminish him, or scare him off, pretending your sleep had pulled you under, but your heart swelled in agreement. You never wanted to leave this place.

[babejinxy]

In love with you - part 2

Pairing: Powder x fem!reader

Warnings: friends to lovers, SMUT, kissing, fluff 

Synopsis: Powder had been your best friend for years, the two of you met when she was running from the cops when she and her brothers broke into and blew up an apartment in Piltover and you helped them escape. What you never imagined, is that the love of your life was always right there in front of you…

A/N: This is a fic about Powder from the alternate universe, it has nothing to do with Jinx.

🌟 English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes.

Part 1

💙 @brocoliisscared @bbybubbles @cattjull

Powder was in her workshop working on a project with Ekko when you walked in, making her stop working and look back, she smiled when she saw you. You walked past Ekko, giving him a quick hi, and went to your friend. “Working too hard?” you asked as you wiped a grease stain off her face. Powder felt her skin crawling at your touch near her mouth. “How about a break? Movies, sleepovers, braids on hair? What do you say, huh?”

Powder just couldn't say no to you, how could she? After all, you were her best friend and the person she secretly loved, all she wanted was to keep you close, if not in a romantic way, then she would still have you as her best friend and could simply look at you, dream about you, touch you even if in a subtle way, a friendly way... That's why she never revealed her feelings, she didn't want to lose you, above all you were her best friend, she needed you as a friend too. “Ok, you got me with the braids,” Powder joked. “How stupid of you,” you said with a laugh. “You’re the one who said baby.” You always ignored whatever flared up inside you every time she called you pet names because it shouldn’t mean anything.

“Movies?” Ekko’s voice echoed from the other side of the room, you looked at him, “I don’t want to miss this, can I go too?” You knew that what he really wanted was a chance for a second date with Powder and maybe she wanted that too, but she was just being proud. In reality, you couldn’t know the dissatisfaction she felt inside when you happily agreed to let him go with the two of you. 

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚  ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔

Powder was sitting on your bed watching you as you put on your makeup, Ekko was sitting in an armchair in the corner of your room flipping through a physics book he took from your shelf. You took advantage of the heat to wear a short dress that showed off your thighs and highlighted your curves. Powder tried not to look too much or at least be as discreet as possible, but it was getting harder and harder. You took your cherry lip gloss and applied it to your lips, pressing them together to spread the lip gloss. Powder looked away and took a deep breath. God, how she wanted to taste the cherry on your lips.

“Hey Pow Pow, can you tie my dress, please? The straps are loose,” you asked as you sprayed on your perfume. She approached you from behind and pulled the ties of your dress to undo the bow and then retied it again, tightening the ties tighter this time. Her fingers brushing against your skin made your skin shiver, she on the other hand, made a point of touching your soft skin. She always thought about what it would be like to undress you, those thoughts drove her crazy.

“I love the smell of your perfume, it’s so good,” she said finally, resting her hands on your waist and nuzzling your neck to smell you. This was much more intimate than a best friend’s affection, Ekko would have noticed if he hadn’t been too focused on your book. Moments like this weren’t uncommon between the two of you, it happened sometimes. You ignored the signs because Powder was your best friend and this was just her way of showing affection and if you thought otherwise, it was because you were too needy and you knew it. Powder was nothing more than a caring friend who liked to compliment and touch a little too much.

You smiled and put your hands in hers only to remove them from your waist. "You should wear it once in a while since you like it." You said, moving away from her and grabbing your bag. Powder laughed a little to herself, either you were playing dumb or you were simply a fucking dumbass and didn't understand her advances on you or maybe... maybe you just didn't notice it because you didn't want her like she wanted you and that specific thought always brought her back to reality, that she was an idiot in love with her best friend.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚  ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

You arrived at the cinema and bought your tickets and popcorn. Powder as usual, bought a strawberry and cream milkshake. She sat in an armchair between you and Ekko. Of course he wanted the seat next to her. “When did this become a date between them and I was the third wheel?” You thought and laughed to yourself. “What are you laughing at?” Ekko asked, tilting his head to look at you. “Nothing,” you replied, pursing your lips. You looked at Powder and noticed that she was tense. You thought about making an excuse and leaving them alone, but you wanted to watch this movie too much for that.

The movie was about comic book heroes and the three of you shared this passion, so as soon as the movie started you were all very apprehensive and entertained. Or at least that's what you thought. You were the only one entertained by the movie, you only moved your hand to grab the popcorn and bring it to your mouth, your eyes never leaving the big screen. You didn't notice that Powder was looking much more at your legs, now very exposed by the dress that rode up when you sat down, she imagined herself between them. "Damn Powder, focus on the movie", she thought to herself. When she finally pushed her dirty thoughts away and focused on the movie, she felt Ekko's hand on hers and his gaze fixed on her. She understood what he was getting at and immediately pulled her hand away from his and kept her eyes on the movie. He snorted and adjusted in his seat to go back to watching the movie.

After a while, you rested your head on Powder's shoulders and your scent that she loved completely infested her and she had difficulty concentrating on the movie again. She wrapped her arms around your neck and you snuggled even closer to her. This gesture wasn't strange between you and not even to Ekko, he knew you were close and took it as a friendly gesture, just like you. Just like Powder knew it was, but wished it was something more.

You crossed your legs, making your short dress ride up even higher. This didn't go unnoticed by your friend and she tried to look away and focus on the movie, but it was too difficult, especially since your skin was crawling from the cold air conditioning in the movie theater. She thought she could make your skin crawl too. God, how she wanted you... She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt her insides aching. Was she really getting horny now?

Powder tried hard to change the focus of her thoughts, but it was very difficult with your breathing close to her neck, she looked at you and you were focused on the movie, she wanted to be able to hold your face and kiss you. What would you do if she did that? “I need to go to the bathroom,” she whispered and you pulled away from her. “The movie is almost over, are you going to miss the ending?” you asked in a whisper, but she shook her head.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚  ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

When Powder reached the bathroom, she entered an empty stall and locked the door by leaning against it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying not to think about you too much, but it was too difficult and she needed to relieve herself.

She felt dirty every time she did this, but this was stronger than her. She closed the toilet lid and sat on it, she slipped her hand between her pants and panties and began to play with her own throbbing clit. She closed her eyes at the sensation and bit her lip to keep from moaning as she thrust two fingers inside herself. She sped up the pace of her fingers more and more as she thought about you, your smell, your damn short dress, your legs, she touched herself and imagined herself between them, eating you, fucking you with her fingers, just like she was fucking herself. Nothing would make her come stronger than that.

And then she thought about kissing you and tasting the cherry lip gloss on your lips while your pussy squeezed her fingers and that was when she came, cumming hard on her own fingers.

“Fuck,” she whispered when she was done, removing her fingers from her pants and wiping them with toilet paper. This wasn’t new to her, she’d touched herself plenty of times while thinking about you. But touching herself in a movie theater bathroom, that was new.

You were at the exit door of the cinema with Ekko waiting for Powder to return, the two of you were talking about the movie when she finally appeared. “What took you so long? You missed the end of the movie”, you said when she stopped next to you. “I don’t think milkshakes go with popcorn”, she said massaging her stomach.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚  ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

After the movie, you guys went to Zaun and stopped at Vander's bar and ordered some not-too-strong drinks. Gert wasn't working the night shift that day, which Powder was grateful for, so she wouldn't have to see her flirting with you again.

However, Powder's joy didn't last long. Your hexphone vibrated on the table and she could read the message that Caitlyn, your ex-girlfriend, sent you, 

"Hey sweetie, I miss u. I can't wait to see you again ❤️".

Powder never really liked any of the people you dated, but she tolerated them all. But with Cait it was different, she really couldn't stand her and never hid it and for some reason, Cait was the only girlfriend of yours who didn't like your best friend. Maybe she noticed something that the others didn't? You couldn't say, but the hatred between them was mutual and it only got worse when Cait cheated on you with Maddie, she always had a soft spot for younger girls.

You broke up with Cait as soon as you found out about her cheating on you and you were devastated by it. You saw her again two months after the breakup and didn't tell Powder because you knew she would get mad. Not that she was wrong, but you were too needy and afraid of breaking up alone, when in reality you just needed a little self-love.

“Y/n,” she practically screamed, “I can’t believe you’re dating her after everything she did to you.”

“Pow, I didn’t get back together with her, I only went out with her once after that and we text each other sometimes, we’re just…”

Powder sniffed and shook her head in disbelief, “Unbelievable,” she said softly before leaving the table, leaving you and Ekko alone. You looked at Ekko and before he could say anything, you went after Powder.

Ekko finally realized something that only you didn’t notice…

should I continue? 👇🏻👇🏻

merry christmas to all ❤️🎄

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinktober Masterlist 2024

Welcome to Kinktober everyone! This is the list and descriptions of all the Halloween fics I have managed to write involving either Wanda, Nat and, in some chapters, even both of them :)

All chapters include 18+ smut and something relating to the spooky season so I hope you all enjoy.

Happy Halloween everyone! <3

 All of these fics contain 18+ smut (so MDNI) and all have specific warnings/tags at the start of each so please read these carefully before reading. Some of these one shots contain dark themes so please consider the warnings/tags specified. 

1) Madness -Admiring your girlfriend tied up, blindfolded and waiting eagerly for you to play with the new nipple clamps adorning her body, has only one thing filling your mind: how to drive her mad with your touch, how to engrave the feeling of your tantalising lips, teasing fingers and torturous tongue in her mind for weeks. (Dom Reader X Sub Wanda)

Madness G!P Reader Version

2) Pumpkin Carving: Carving a pumpkin with your girlfriend was supposed to be a fun and easy task, well, that was until you got distracted by the sight of her toned arms and her seductive hands, unable to stop your thoughts from remembering how her fingers felt deep inside you. (Dom Natasha X Sub Reader) 

3) Trick Or Treat: Knocking on your neighbours door, you were hoping to receive a ‘treat’ from the older woman before her husband and children came back from their trick or treating trip. (Milf Wanda X Reader) 

4) What’s Your Favourite Scary Movie?: Whilst on the phone to your girlfriend, the conversation starts off innocently with favourite horror films before escalating down a more sinful path. You tell her how you wish she could be here with you, unaware of the small camera she had hidden in your room, watching as she guides you slide your hands under your panties. (Dark Natasha X Reader) 

5) The Devil Made Me Do It: After an unusual dream and the darkhold corrupting her mind, Wanda can’t help but look over at your form, soundly asleep, and wanting to make that dream a reality. (Dark Wanda X Reader) 

6) I Promise I Won’t Bite: Ending up in the Maximoff-Romanoff Mansion, you can’t help but be nervous in the presence of both powerful women. Wanda assures you that you had nothing to fear, that she wouldn’t bite, but the same couldn’t be said for her wife, Natasha, who’s smirk showed off her subtle fangs, desire evident in her lustful gaze. (Vampire WandaNat X Reader) 

7) One Day A Year: A girl can dress up like a total slut and no other girl can say anything about it. Whilst at a party with your two girlfriends, dressed up in your sinful costumes, the three of you find yourself on the sofa with a blanket over you laps, the two women intending to take advantage of the privacy and how drunk everyone else was, too distracted to notice how your cheeks flushed with arousal. (WandaNat X Reader) 

I have not finished writing all of these so I’m not sure what the upload structure will be like. My plan is to post the first fic on Friday and hopefully write the rest of them so I have them all finished by Halloween! (If not I will still write them and just post them as soon as they’re written) 

Let me know which chapters you’re most looking forward to! I hope you all enjoy <3 

[heartyluv]

🍎 ᯓ ✈︎ ⊹ 🍃 ࣪ ˖

Note: We’re all adults here, but I just want to emphasize that the behavior Caleb will show in this is only acceptable in FICTION! We all love a little crazy, so long as it’s fake LOL ♡

Rating: Explicit - !!Minors DO NOT interact!!

Warning: Smut, possessive actions and language

Word Count: 3,141

Summary: Caleb doesn’t appreciate another man thinking he can have what’s his and hates that you act like you don’t belong to him.

Possessive!Caleb/Reader

Caleb has done and will always continue to do any and everything that will make you happy. It’s why even though these two weeks of him visiting was supposed to just be time for you two to catch up and hang out, he didn’t hesitate to tell you that it’s okay to have some friends come by to celebrate your birthday.

It’s rare for him to have this much time off and he’s nothing if not a selfish man, so being able to have breakfast, lunch, and dinner every single day, finding things to do around the city, and laying in the house watching movies for hours alone with you, was time well spent in his book. But, he knew you were someone who loved, someone who likes to create memories, so he encouraged you to invite as many friends as you’d like so that you wouldn’t feel bad about it. He’s spent every single birthday of your life with you since you both were kids, some alone and some with others, but this was the first time it would be with people he’s never met before.

After you had moved and gotten a new job, you had to make new friends and while you’ve known them for only a year and a half, they were pretty cool.

“It’s your birthday, pipsqueak. Whatever you want to do, I’m all for it,” he told you with the most endearing smile.

And he truly meant that. Caleb would die for you, he’d kill for you. And that’s not an exaggeration.

Need him to kill a man for touching you? He’ll do it.

Need him to make something look like an accident just because someone got on your nerves? Consider it done.

He’d never tell you he’d go that far. You’re too sweet, it would scare his pretty girl. But it was always a part of him he had ready, just and only for you.

He watches you with a warmth in his chest as you fly back and forth through your townhouse, making sure all the snacks are ready and decorations are set. He takes the time to admire your pretty sky blue dress that rests right above your knees. It hugs your body just right, but not too much. It’s perfect, particularly because you’re wearing it, but even more so because the square neckline gives your breasts just enough wiggle room to bounce with each step you take. Every subtle jiggle makes him want to bend you over the counter and defile you in the most filthy way possible.

Caleb has had… a hard time during several moments while he’s been here. His hand and cock have never been so acquainted in his life. He’d make sure you were sleeping before he went back to the guest room and stroked his length with a pair of your panties that you threw in your hamper. Breathless and embarrassingly desperate, he moaned your name under his breath as his cum shot out of his body. He’s ruined about three pairs— pairs that he has no intention of giving back.

He imagined you sucking his cock that time you went out for ice cream, imagined how pretty your pussy would look filled and covered in his cum when he saw how it strained against your shorts because of how you were laying on the couch one night. It even went as far as imagining how you’d look with his baby in your stomach.

Twins— you two would have twins if he ever got that lucky, he was sure.

But he’s kept himself in line, at least in front of you. Caleb knows you’re a smart girl, he knows that you’re not oblivious to his flirting and subtle actions, but he wasn’t too sure if you felt the same way. It’s why he’s never made a move, too scared that you’d try and reject him. He couldn’t have that, he wouldn’t accept it. The dynamic you two had was safe and he’d keep it that way for as long as he has to. He’d remain the Caleb that you say “plays too much” if you let him continue to do what he’s been doing.

“Caleb, is the grill good to go?” you ask him as you slide your flip flops on. Your voice is like hypnosis in the way he loses himself in your words. It’s a simple question, but the way you say it, the way you speak period, enthralls this man.

“Yup,” he confirms. “I already got some steaks on it like you wanted, remember? They’re almost done.”

You admire your bestest friend in the world as he walks from behind your kitchen counter in his sleeveless white shirt and black jeans. You’re just so thankful for him and everything he’s done for you today and over the years in general.

“You’re the best,” you groan and that makes Caleb’s jaw tense. Down, boy, he scolds himself.

“I know, I know, he gloats. “Your friends almost here?” He steps closer to you and plucks a piece of confetti from all that you’ve sprawled all through the kitchen.

Before you can answer, the bell rings. “That answers my question,” he chuckles. “Let me get it for you.”

You nod and thank him, shaking your nerves out. This is the first time your new friends are seeing where you live too, so you just want everything to be perfect and hope they like it all.

Caleb steps to the side to let them in and you smile. He nods to the three women and two men that enter with ease before shutting the door. He lets you greet and thank them all for coming, but it’s the guy with his hair tied in a bun that gives your best friend pause. When he kisses your cheek, Caleb damn near sets the whole place on fire.

Standing in the living room, you introduce Caleb to them and them to Caleb. His face is friendly, calm, and even. But then he gets his name.

Kendall.

The one with the fucking nerves to put his lips on your precious skin. And you welcomed it. You leaned into the son of a bitch without hesitation and that… that’s something Caleb doesn’t like at all.

You don’t like being touched by people, even more so when it comes to a man. But you let him touch you, let him kiss you, and smiled about it.

He needed to calm down before he lost himself in your home on your birthday.

It’s as the hours went by though, that Caleb started to be physically unable to play nice. Kendall kept touching you, kept getting close, whispering shit in your ear that could not be that fucking funny. It was a natural reaction for Caleb to get between you both and to call you over when Kendall got too close that made him legitimately contemplate shooting him.

He wanted to ask you what all of this was about. You told him everything and he would remember some man named Kendall if you mentioned him. Why hadn’t you? Were you hiding something?

The things that Caleb was really thinking had him fuming inside, but he can’t ruin your birthday. He’d never dream of it. It’s why he has to figure out how to separate you for a moment because he needs answers and waiting until all these people leave wasn’t going to happen. He needed answers now.

So he decided to use your caring nature to lure you upstairs by acting like he wasn’t feeling too great. It took no more than five minutes of him being absent for him to hear you tell everyone to wait on the small deck outside while you checked on him.

“Caleb?” he heard two soft knocks on his door. “You okay? Can I come in?”

After granting you permission, you shut the door behind you. Admittedly, you were confused to not him seem so bothered by the headache he claimed to have when you saw him sitting on the bed.

“How are you feeling?” you still asked. Maybe he didn’t want to worry me, you thought.

“What’s the deal with Kendall?” he asks flatly, his elbows resting on his knees. His eyes look up to meet yours and his gaze is every bit of intimidating.

“What do you mean?” Now you’re going to upset him. He hates when people play dumb, even more so when he knows who he’s talking to is one of the smartest people he’s ever met.

You can sense his irritation, but why he’s like that? You don’t know. “He’s…” you hesitate. “He’s just a guy I went out with for a few dates, but we’re not official or anything.”

Ah. So Kendall is a problem, Caleb thinks. “And why didn’t you tell me?” Caleb interrogates.

“I didn’t think it was necessary. You don’t tell me about every woman you’re with,” you challenge. “Besides, it’s nothing serious.”

You’re right. He doesn’t tell you. Because he hasn’t looked at another woman since his senior year of high school.

“It’s serious enough for him to keep putting his hands and lips on you.” Caleb’s voice raises ever so slightly, but not enough to startle you.

“Okay, what the hell is your problem?” you snap. “I know you want me to be safe and whatever, but I’m grown Caleb. Grown as hell. You don’t get to try and… and be this protector over things that are naturally bound to happen.”

Caleb’s head tilts and your words feel like ice down his back. “I do get to,” he stands up, towering over you. “I’m always going to protect you. Have you not understood that by now?”

His steps are measured and calculated as he gets closer to you. You’re not intimated enough to back up, though. Yet.

“But this isn’t just about protection, pipsqueak.” His voice lowers and the way his tone flattens makes him sound… tired. And he is. He’s tired of acting like your every thought, action, idea, and movement, doesn’t dictate what he’s going to do. Tired of acting like he’s not supposed to be the only one to know what your skin feels like against his lips and the only one to know every inch of your mind, body, and soul inside and out.

“I have to get back downstairs. I don’t have time—”

“I don’t give a fuck about those people.”

Your eyes widen. You don’t even know what to say. So you don’t say a word as you turn around and try to leave, but he’s quicker than you are, bracing his palm flat against the door. The loud thud makes you jump and the heat of his body behind you is more noticeable than ever.

“Do you know how long I’ve kept my mouth shut?” he mumbles. “How long I’ve tried to let you… come to me, naturally?”

He leans down, his lips dangerously close to your skin. “I never wanted to be too forward. I didn’t want you to feel overwhelmed.” His lips graze your skin. “Cornering you is what I didn’t want to do. But it seems like it’s necessary in order for it to get through that pretty little head of yours that you have always been mine… That you have always belonged to me.”

“Caleb—”

“Do you know how many times your smell alone makes me want to touch myself?” he admits and your breath hitches. “How many times I’ve imagined what you’d feel like wrapped around me for the first time?”

You can barely register everything he’s saying. Your legs feel gelatinous and you can never seem to gather enough breath.

“I’ve been so patient, so accommodating for years. And you give that son of a bitch downstairs what I’ve been deserving of?”

Your hands press against the door as he pushes himself closer to you.

“I didn’t… I never knew—”

“Bullshit,” he cuts you off. “You’ve always known. I know you did. It’s why you wore less around me as time went on, why you kept teasing me, hinting at my feelings for you.”

He’s right. You know he’s right. You’ve had a thing for your best friend for longer than you can admit. But going further than friendship with Caleb felt dangerous. If it didn’t work out, in the end you’d lose the only person who meant the most to you in the world. It was easier to try and get over him—unsuccessfully—for all these years than risk it.

His cock presses against you and the fact that you can feel him through all these layers of clothing makes you throb. “Tell me you don’t want me…” he dares. “I’d tell you that I’d walk away and never bother you again, but I’m done lying to you, pipsqueak.”

He grinds against you, making you ball your flat hands into fists as you whimper. “You want my cock just as much as I want you. Your body is telling me everything your mouth won’t.”

His hand grazes over your thigh as it snakes down. He other grabs hold of your thigh, hiking it up and pressing you against the door and you let him. His hand slips in between your legs and his fingers trail down your panty clad pussy. “Tell me yes, baby,” he whispers as he nips your ear. “Let me give you what you’ve denied us both for too long.”

You nod. Of course you do. Your body shudders as his strong hand creeps inside the fabric. Your mouth falls open and nothing but breath comes out as he gathers your wetness and brings it to your clit. Gently, he circles the tight bud against two fingers, kissing your neck as you press into him.

He’s breathing heavily behind you as you rub against his cock and his ragged sounds make you quiver.

“Oh, hah— Caleb.. That feels..” you moan.

“You’re so responsive,” he praises. His fingers don’t falter, never lose their rhythm, no matter how much he craves some stimulation of his own. Fortunately for him, your hot pussy against his hand and your sounds are just enough for now.

He almost cums in his pants when your hand reaches behind you to grab onto his hair. He grinds against you more, just enough to feel but not enough to finish as you whine as your first orgasm approaches. It’s not long until he’s holding you closer as you start to shake in his grasp. You bite your lip, knowing that even if your friends are outside, you still don’t want to be too loud.

Your head falls back on his shoulder as you finally start to come undone, chasing your high with eagerness. Spent and breathless, Caleb kisses your jaw while you try to come back down to Earth.

His hand slides out of your panties and you watch them trail upwards as he brings them higher and turn your head to see him pop them in his mouth, licking you clean off his fingers.

“I always dreamed that I’d take my time the first time you gave me the privilege to be inside of you,” he says against your neck. “But if you let me fuck you right now, I’m not gonna last and I’m not gonna be gentle. Is that okay, pipsqueak?”

“Yes…” you utter what feels like your first word in hours. Caleb wastes no more time. He’s waited long enough. He spins you around, laying you down on the bed with your hips at the edge.

His pants come down to give him just enough freedom and the sight of his cock makes your already wet and sensitive cunt clench. His tip is flushed with a tinge of red and you gawk at the creamy bead of white that runs down his length. He flips your dress up and he can’t even fathom trying to pull your panties off right now.

He pulls them to the side, looking between your eyes and what he calls safe haven. Guiding himself, he looks to you for approval one more time before he slides into you, your slick making his entry absolutely mouth watering.

His cock grinds against your panties as he starts slow, just to get you used to him. He can’t even form a coherent sentence or thought. Between how good you feel and the way the fabric strokes him roughly, he feels like he’s on another planet.

His pace increases as he feels you relax and the way he fucks you isn’t loving, it isn’t gentle. It’s powerful and it’s every bit of consuming. He’s showing you that you’re his, that you will always belong to him. His hips are merciless as he slams into you and his hands are no different as they roughly grab at your hips.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he pants. “Tell me you belong to me. I need to hear you say it.”

“I-I’m yours..” Not only do you tell him what he wants to hear, but you believe it. You believe him. “Oh god, Caleb, please don’t stop,” you beg him. If he wasn’t so determined to make you come again, he would’ve buckled right then and there because of how sweet you sound.

“I own you just as much as you own me. Do you understand?” He spreads you wider, bracing his forearms beneath your knees. Your breasts jump quicker at the way he’s nearly fucking you through the mattress. He just wishes he had you fully naked to get the whole experience.

“Fuck.. Yes, yes I hear you…” Your eyes roll back as you grip the cover beneath you.

“Allow another man to touch you…” he starts, licking his lips. “…and his blood will be on my hands,” he warns through hooded eyes.

That should terrify you. It should make you scream at him to pull out and to get away from you. Instead, it has your pussy shamelessly sucking him in deeper and he’s so deep that you almost struggle to breathe. The erotic sound of skin slapping together and his balls against your ass is enough to have you falling apart for him for the second time.

“Maybe my girl isn’t as innocent as I thought,” he teases. You want to retort, but it’s impossible right now.

“Shit, I’m gonna.. where do you want me?” he chokes out.

“Inside,” you whisper. “It’s okay.”

That’s all he needs for a few more thrusts to have him spilling his seed into you. He fucks his cum deeper, rubbing your overstimulated clit as he watches the look on your pretty face. Once he stills, he takes a small amount of time to admire the sight before him of his fucked out girl.

He wants to stay inside of you longer, but you two have already been absent long enough and he doesn’t want you stressing.

Gently, he hisses as he pulls out and puts your panties back into place with his cum seeping though the fabric, making an absolute mess that makes him feel primal.

After he pulls your dress back down, he fixes his own clothes and pulls you up.

He doesn’t hesitate to kiss your lips, licking at your mouth. He smiles against you and that make you do the same.

“We’ll talk more tonight,” he promises as he kisses your nose.

“Caleb, there’s cum in my panties. I can’t go downstairs like this,” you say is disbelief. Secretly you love it, but you’re not telling him that.

“And it’s going to stay there,” he wraps his arm around your waist. “C’mon, it’ll make me feel better.” His smile is mischievous and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t be like that, pipsqueak. It’s your birthday.”

You punch his chest. “Oh, go to hell.”

He laughs. “I love you, too.”

[cumironi]

YOU ARE GOOD TO ME : RYOMEN SUKUNA

you came to your boyfriend’s apartment without him knowing you just got mistreated by your father, so he asked— no, he told you— you to live with him instead.

warning. non-sorcerer! sukuna, abusive parent, bruise, domestic violence (not by sukuna), slight angst, fluff, comfort.

you feel the burn all over your skin, the heat trapped under your jacket making every step feel heavier. each movement sends sharp stings through your body, but you keep going, your breaths shallow as you focus on reaching the familiar door ahead. the hallway feels longer than usual, each step echoing, your pace slowing as the pain worsens, but you press on, determined.

when you finally reach the door, you take a deep breath, gathering enough strength to gently knock, the sound soft against the quiet. moments later, the door creaks open, and you're met with the sight of ryomen sukuna, your boyfriend. his face, as usual, holds that natural, intimidating look, sharp and deadly with his tattoos lining his skin. the sight of him alone sends a wave of comfort through you, momentarily distracting you from the pain.

but even though his appearance would terrify anyone else, you know better. you see the subtle shift in his expression, the way his red eyes soften just the slightest bit, and the tension in his muscles loosens as soon as he sees you standing there.

“baby,” you greet him softly, managing a smile despite the burn gnawing at you. stepping forward, you move into his arms, the warmth of his body immediately easing some of the discomfort. his presence alone feels like a balm to your pain as you bury yourself into him, inhaling his familiar scent.

he doesn’t say anything at first, but his arms instinctively wrap around you, his hands surprisingly gentle despite his intimidating strength.

a wave of relief washed over sukuna as you fell into his arms, his usual stoic demeanor quickly faltering in your presence. his grip on you was tight, possessive, yet careful not to hurt you, fingers tracing slow, gentle circles on your back. his red eyes scanned your face, taking in the exhaustion that seemed to cling to you like a shadow.

“you look exhausted,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through his chest. though his words were blunt, there was a softness there, a hidden concern that only you ever got to see. “what happened?” his hands never stopped their slow, soothing movement against your back, his touch a perfect blend of tenderness and protection, a side of him he reserved solely for you.

you looked up at him, a small chuckle escaping your lips despite the pain still pulsing beneath your skin. “what do you mean?” you teased, your voice light and playful as you leaned back a little to meet his gaze. “nothing happened. i just missed my boyfriend.”

sukuna’s brows furrowed slightly, but before he could say anything, you gently pulled away from his hold, offering him a sly smile. you walked deeper into his apartment, the scent of him and the space immediately calming you further. making your way over to the couch, you sank into its cushions, letting out a small sigh as the tension in your body slowly began to unravel.

your eyes flicked toward the tv, noticing the movie playing in front of you, but your mind was only half-focused on it. instead, your attention kept shifting back to sukuna, who was still standing where you left him, watching you with that unreadable expression of his. though you could sense the concern lingering behind his sharp gaze, you knew better than to dwell on it. you just wanted to be close to him, and that was enough to ease the weight pressing down on you.

sukuna’s eyes followed your every move, sharp and observant. he was well-acquainted with your playful banter, the sly smiles and light teases you often threw his way. but beneath your usual demeanor, he sensed something was off about you. your steps were slower, your breaths came short and labored, and your skin was paler than usual. it took all of his self-control to keep his concerns in check, to not immediately pry further.

he slowly made his way toward the couch, dropping down beside you with a quiet huff, his gaze never leaving your face. the silence between you hung heavy as you shifted slightly on the couch, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the wince that followed didn’t go unnoticed by sukuna. his crimson eyes remained fixed on you, studying your every movement, the slightest flicker of discomfort sharpening his gaze. the deep, protective instinct within him stirred, a primal urge to pull you close, to shield you from whatever was causing your pain. his jaw clenched for a moment, fingers twitching as if to reach for you, but he stopped himself.

he knew you too well. he knew you weren’t someone who liked being coddled, that you thrived on your own strength, and he respected that deeply. but still, the desire to take care of you gnawed at him, a constant pull he couldn’t ignore. so instead of acting on it, sukuna leaned back into the couch, his arms draped casually along the backrest, though his eyes never left you.

you glanced up and caught his sharp stare, his silent concern almost palpable. a small chuckle escaped your lips, breaking the tension. “stop,” you teased softly, shaking your head with a smile, knowing exactly what he was thinking without him needing to say a word.

without waiting for his response, you shifted closer, your body pressing against his as you snuggled into him. the warmth of his chest was immediate, comforting in a way only sukuna could be. resting your head on him, you let out a content sigh, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek. his arm instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you in tighter, but it was gentle, protective in the way only he could manage.

you smiled to yourself, feeling the weight of the world slowly lift off your shoulders, soothed by the closeness you shared with him. “this is all i need,” you murmured softly, closing your eyes as you let yourself relax fully in his embrace.

sukuna tensed momentarily as you leaned into him, the warmth of your body against his felt like a drug. the protective instinct that always simmered beneath his hardened exterior flared up again, stronger than ever. but your words, so soft spoken yet full of conviction, made him swallow his urges.

he didn’t verbally respond, but his arm around you pulled you closer, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your back. he let out a low hum, deep and soothing in his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm that seemed to resonate through you. as you settled further into his embrace, he fought the urge to shield you from the world, to keep you close and never let you go. but he knew he had to give you space, to let you be the strong person he knew you were. so instead, he adjusted his position, pulling you snugly onto his lap, his other hand coming up to lightly rest on your waist.

he leaned his chin against the top of your head, his eyes scanning the room, seemingly nonchalant, but deep down, he was hyperaware of every sound, every movement coming from you.

you stay in that position for what feels like hours, both of you letting the silence fill the space between the gentle rise and fall of your breaths. the soft flicker of the tv bathes the room in a dim light, but neither of you pays it any mind. instead, you remain curled up against him, your head resting heavily on his broad shoulder, nestled deep under the curve of his arm. his tattooed arms encircle you, strong and sure, their warmth seeping into your skin, grounding you in a way nothing else could.

there’s something about being in his presence that makes you feel invincible, like nothing in the world could touch you as long as he’s near. his aura, though intimidating to anyone else, is a shield for you, wrapping you in a sense of protection that leaves no room for fear. no matter how chaotic or exhausting your life may be, here, within the sanctuary of his arms, you are safe. the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear is a melody, soothing your frayed nerves, calming the pain that had followed you for so long.

every beat seems to echo in rhythm with your own, each one a silent promise—he will always be there, he will always protect you. you sink further into him, the warmth of his skin against yours making it impossible to let go, like you're tethered to him in a way words can't explain. you tighten your grip around his solid frame, your arms curling around his muscular body as if holding him closer could make this moment last forever.

his heartbeat is soft beneath your ear, like the most beautiful symphony, easing the storm inside you, soothing the ache in your bones. this man, who the world sees as cruel and monstrous, is your comfort in all the chaos. the paradox of it all makes you smile faintly, but your smile is more of a feeling—relief, peace, maybe even love—radiating from the inside out as you let out a slow breath, your body finally relaxing fully against him. his hand moves gently up and down your back, almost unconsciously, as if reassuring himself you’re still there with him.

without lifting your head, you speak softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, slightly muffled against the firmness of his chest. “can i stay the night?” you ask, your words carrying a vulnerability you only show him. “i don’t really want to go home... i miss you.”

your voice is so quiet, like a secret meant only for him, a soft plea slipping through the stillness of the room. you don’t need to look at him to know he heard you. you feel it in the way his arm tightens slightly around you, holding you closer as if to say you never have to ask. there’s no hesitation in the way he responds, though he says nothing aloud. the comfort of his embrace is his answer—yes, you can stay, and no, you don’t have to face anything alone.

and as you press your cheek against him, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath, you feel a peace that only he can give.

sukuna’s heart skipped a beat at your softly spoken words, a sharp tug of emotion pulling at his chest. there was a vulnerability in your voice, a quiet plea that he heard so clearly through the silence of the room. you didn't have to say much else. he had heard the exhaustion, the longing laced within each syllable.

he said nothing, his fingers continuing their steady path across the expanse of your back. he didn’t need to. the way he pulled you closer, the way his arms tightened around you, spoke more than enough. his answer, though unspoken, was clear as day.

his head dipped, resting gently against yours, the tender brush of his cheek against your hair sending a soft shiver down your spine. each slow, steady breath he took grazed your skin, a quiet reminder of how close he was, how perfectly in sync the two of you felt in that moment. his body, solid and warm, was like a wall of muscle and heat, grounding you with its unyielding strength. more comforting than any cushion, he was your refuge, your unbreakable fortress.

when he finally spoke, his voice rumbled through his chest, deep and resonant, sinking into the very core of you. “stay,” he said, the word carrying a weight far beyond its simplicity. it wasn’t just a request; it was an invitation wrapped in protection, a command softened by the love and care threaded within. there was no question, no other possibility in his mind. in his world, you staying wasn’t just allowed—it was inevitable, the only reality.

a soft hum escaped your lips, almost unbidden, as you melted deeper into his embrace, pressing closer to the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear. each beat was like a quiet lullaby, soothing the tension from your body, as if his very presence could make the world outside disappear. you nestled closer still, seeking his warmth, his solidity, knowing that in his arms, everything else could fade away.

“i love you,” you whispered, the words delicate, barely audible, almost swallowed by the quiet intimacy surrounding you. but in that moment, they felt heavier, deeper than ever before. it wasn’t just a declaration of love—it was an offering of trust, a confession of the comfort and safety you found in him. the three simple words wrapped around the both of you, holding more meaning than ever.

you felt him respond not with words but in the subtle tightening of his arms around you, the faint shift in his muscles as if your confession had reached a part of him that needed no verbal reply. in that quiet exchange, there was no need for further words. his presence, the way he held you closer, the quiet mingling of your breaths, was answer enough. you were home, wrapped in the quiet strength of his love.

sukuna’s heart stuttered in his chest, his breath momentarily hitching at the sound of your confession. those three words, spoken so softly, echoed through him like a powerful force, a reminder of the love that filled his world. you'd said it before, but this time, the meaning was different, deeper. it sank into the very core of his being, wrapping around him more firmly than ever before.

he pulled you closer if it was even possible, his hands gently running up your back, tracing soft patterns on your skin. “i love you too,” he finally murmured, the words coming out in a deep, gentle rumble. his voice was softer, quieter than usual, holding an edge of vulnerability that matched the fragility of the moment. he rarely uttered such sentiments, but with you, the words came easily, naturally. his heart was a fortress for most, but when it came to you, the walls crumbled, leaving behind only the raw truth of his feelings for you.

he nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling your scent as if committing it to memory, the smell of you a soothing balm in his senses. your presence in his arms was a comfort unlike any other, a feeling he treasured more than anything.

sukuna’s hands continued their steady path across your back, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles, as if trying to ease every bit of tension in your body. even he could feel your exhaustion, the way your body seemed to sag against him, seeking rest and solace.

“you’re tired,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. it wasn’t a question, more of a statement, a gentle observation of the weariness he could feel radiating off you. he pulled you a fraction closer, one hand moving up to run through your hair in a slow, gentle motion.

you let out a heavy sigh, your breath mingling with the warmth of his chest. “just a little bit,” you whispered, though the fatigue in your voice betrayed you. the gentle motion of his hand through your hair sent a wave of comfort through your body, soothing the ache that had settled deep within. every touch from sukuna felt like an unspoken promise, as if he could take away all the weariness just by being there. you relaxed further into him, your body giving in to the comfort he offered, allowing the tension to melt away under his touch.

sukuna chuckled softly against your hair, the sound as deep and comforting as a gentle caress. “just a little bit,” he echoed your words, a hint of teasing in his voice. but there was understanding there too, a knowing that despite your nonchalance, you were more than just a ‘little bit’ tired.

he continued his comforting motions, his fingers idly tracing small, soothing patterns across your back, as if silently coaxing the tiredness from your body. “you’re terrible at lying, you know,” he said, the affection in his tone betraying his lighthearted chastisement.

you chuckled softly, the sound muffled against his chest, mirroring the warmth of his own laugh. slowly, you lifted your head, eyes meeting his intense gaze, the affection in his crimson eyes softening the usual sharpness they held. shifting slightly in his embrace, you reached up, cupping his cheek with one hand, your thumb brushing against the familiar lines of his tattoo.

“just a little bit,” you repeated, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips, though the exhaustion in your eyes betrayed your playful words. you lingered there for a moment, your touch gentle, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, a quiet reassurance in the simple connection between you.

sukuna met your gaze, a flicker of a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips as your fingers found his cheek. the teasing banter between you never failed to amuse him, each exchange a silent dance only the two of you knew.

he raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly in mock skepticism. “keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” he said, the nickname rolling effortlessly off his tongue, a rare slip from his usual intimidating demeanor. he leaned into your touch, his gaze never leaving yours. the softness in his eyes betrayed the hardness he showed the world, a side only you got to see.

you chuckled softly, the sound light but carrying a warmth that filled the space between you. then, with a playful frown, you tilted your head and let out a mock sigh, pouting as you teased, “you’re so hard to pleased, you know that?” your tone was dripping with playful sarcasm, your lips forming a small pout as your fingers still rested gently on his cheek.

the pout deepened, your eyes narrowing slightly in exaggerated frustration, but the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth gave you away. you watched his reaction carefully, knowing how much he secretly enjoyed these moments of teasing, even if he pretended otherwise.

sukuna let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. you were a master at playing him, knowing exactly how to get a rise out of him and how to soften his edges. your pout was adorable, though he'd never admit it aloud.

he leaned in, mere inches from your face, his eyes narrowing in response to your faux frustration. “keep going like this and you won’t satisfy me for a long time,” he warned, his voice a low, gravelly whisper, carrying a hint of a threat.

sukuna’s eyes flicked down to your lips momentarily, watching as they formed your small pout. a flicker of desire flashed through his eyes, a silent admission of his own growing impatience. the tension between you was tangible, an invisible current that seemed to crackle with each silent exchange.

he raised one hand, his thumb gently tracing the edge of your bottom lip, the rough pad of his finger barely touching your skin yet sending a shiver down your spine. “keep making that face at me and see where it gets you,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse, a promise as much as a warning.

your playful frown deepened at his words, and you looked up at him with wide eyes, your pout accentuating your playful tone as you replied, “so scary.” despite the lightness of your words, a thrill ran through you at his intensity, the way he seemed to revel in the tension that hung between you.

before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, the softness of the moment contrasting with the heat of the teasing banter. it was a fleeting connection, but it sent a rush of warmth through you, leaving a lingering smile on your lips as you pulled back, your heart racing at the daring gesture.

sukuna smiled softly, a warmth spreading through him as he felt your lips against his, even if just for a brief moment. a low hum of satisfaction rumbled in his chest, the sound a quiet acknowledgment of the connection you shared. his thumb grazed your cheek, a tender gesture that made your heart flutter, and before you could fully comprehend the shift, he pulled you closer, sealing the space between you with a deeper kiss.

this time, his lips moved against yours with a gentle fervor, as if savoring the sweetness of the moment. the kiss was tender, a stark contrast to the teasing banter that had just filled the room, and you felt yourself melt into him, the world outside fading away as you lost yourself in the softness of his touch. it was a kiss that spoke volumes—of affection, of longing, and of the unbreakable bond that tethered you to one another.

sukuna’s hands shifted slightly, one cupping the back of your head, holding you to him as he deepened the kiss further. each gentle caress of his lips was a promise, an unspoken declaration of love. he could feel your body relaxing against him, the tension of the day melting away as you gave in to the tenderness of the moment.

after what seemed like an eternity but was mere seconds, he slowly pulled away, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to regulate his breathing. his touch was still gentle, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your cheek.

“don’t pout at me again,” he mumbled, his lips ghosting against your own as he spoke, “unless you want me to do something about it.”

there was a huskiness in his voice that betrayed his own growing desire for more, a hint of the possessive nature that simmered just beneath his stoic demeanor. his body trembled almost imperceptibly, a physical response to your closeness, to the way you affected him.

sukuna’s eyes flickered open, their usual intensity replaced with a softer, gentler look as he took in the sight of you so close to him, so visibly affected by his touch. he could see the flush on your cheeks, the way your eyes seemed to sparkle with a mixture of surprise and affection.

he shifted slightly, his other arm moving around your waist, pulling you even closer as he leaned in, his lips gently tracing the line of your jawline, moving down to the soft skin of your neck. sukuna's breath was warm against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses, each one a declaration of his affection. his lips lingered on the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, his teeth gently grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

he pulled back slightly, admiring the mark he had just left. satisfaction gleamed in his eyes, a possessive look that said you were his, in every way that mattered. he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, the warmth of his lips sending a wave of comfort through you. he pulled you closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle. in that moment, the world outside faded into silence, and nothing else mattered but the intimacy shared between you.

you melted against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear, a soothing reminder of his presence. words felt unnecessary, too loud and clumsy to capture the depth of what you both felt. instead, you exchanged quiet moments, your actions speaking volumes as you reveled in the softness of his embrace, feeling safe and cherished in his arms. each breath you took together felt like a silent promise, a testament to the bond that connected your hearts in an unspoken understanding.

sukuna held you tight against him, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back, a soft and soothing rhythm that seemed to seep into your very soul. he could feel the tension leaving your body, your muscles relaxing against him, your breathing growing slower, more steady.

he pressed another gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment as if to memorize the feel of your skin. “you’re tired,” he whispered, the statement a gentle reminder that you needed rest. there was no need for more words—the intimacy of the moment spoke louder than any words ever could.

you fell asleep on his couch, the gentle rise and fall of your breathing creating a soothing rhythm in the quiet room. sukuna, wanting to continue watching the game, decided to let you rest a little longer. he slipped away to his room to grab a soft blanket, planning to drape it over you without disturbing your peaceful slumber.

as he returned, a warmth spread through him at the sight of you curled up, lost in dreams. however, when he leaned down to drape the blanket over your body, he noticed the way your jacket had shifted. he gently tugged it off, careful not to wake you, but the sight of your bare arms beneath your baby tee made his heart drop.

his gaze fell upon a bruise near your shoulder, dark and angry against your skin. a frown tugged at his lips as he continued to inspect your arm, revealing more bruises scattered across your skin. horror crept into his red eyes, tightening in his chest at the realization of how hurt you were.

setting your jacket aside, he gently lifted your shirt, revealing your stomach that bore similar marks of pain—purple and red bruises that told a silent story of struggle. a surge of protectiveness washed over him, anger simmering beneath the surface as he struggled to comprehend how you had gotten hurt like this. in that moment, all thoughts of the game vanished, replaced by an overwhelming urge to shield you from harm and ensure that you were safe.

with a frown etched on his face, sukuna settled onto the coffee table beside the couch, his gaze fixed on your sleeping form. you looked peaceful, curled up like a little cat, completely unaware of the turmoil brewing in his heart.

he was aware of your abusive father and had heard fragments of your struggles, but seeing the bruises that marred your skin brought a new wave of rage and sadness crashing over him. the vivid impressions left on your body were a stark reminder of the pain you endured, igniting a fierce protectiveness within him. the realization of how deep the abuse ran made his blood boil, a tempest of anger simmering just beneath the surface.

rising from his seat, he gently shifted you onto your side, cradling you with care as he lifted your shirt. he hoped to find nothing but smooth skin, but instead, his heart sank at the sight of a large bruise on your back. understanding flooded in as he recalled the way you had winced at his gentle touches. the thought that someone could hurt you like this twisted in his gut, a knot of frustration and sorrow.

sukuna returned to his spot on the coffee table, his eyes drifting back to your face. you appeared so calm and innocent, a stark contrast to the pain hidden beneath the surface. he blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill, his fingers instinctively brushing your hair away from your face. in that moment, he vowed to himself that he would do everything in his power to protect you, to be the shield against the darkness that had touched your life. no one would ever lay a hand on you again.

the game faded into oblivion as sukuna carefully lifted your body into his arms, his heart swelling with a fierce protectiveness. he cradled you against him, feeling the weight of your vulnerability as he carried you to his bedroom. each step was deliberate, as if he feared jostling you from your peaceful slumber.

once he reached the bed, he gently laid you down, ensuring you were comfortable before settling beside you. he pulled the blanket over both of you, wrapping you in warmth and security. the soft fabric cocooned you, shielding you from the world outside as he tucked you in close, his presence a silent promise of safety.

with you nestled against him, sukuna let out a soft sigh, his fingers gently brushing over your hair. the tranquility of the moment enveloped him, and he found solace in just being there with you, a protective guardian in the quiet night. he would watch over you, ensuring that no harm would come your way, determined to create a space where you could feel safe and loved.

sukuna allowed the silence to settle around you, the only sound being the steady rhythm of your breath, in unison with his own. he held you close, his arms encircling you protectively, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back.

he found himself lost in thought, the image of your bruised body replaying in his mind incessantly. the knowledge of your abuse and the extent of your suffering cut through his heart like a knife, the pain of it nearly suffocating. he shifted slightly, pulling you deeper into his embrace, as if by doing so he could erase the shadows that plagued your life.

the room was hushed, the silence interrupted only by the whispered sound of your breathing. his eyes flicked down to you, studying your face, the way your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks as you slept. the sight of you, tucked against him, sparked a possessive feeling within him, a burning need to keep you safe and away from harm.

he felt the weight of his own promise, the vow he had made to himself to shield you from the suffering you had endured. sukuna pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment, as if sealing the commitment with a silent gesture. “you will be alright, i’ll make sure of it,” he whispered to your forehead before giving you another kiss.

sukuna’s words hung in the air, a silent vow spoken against the soft skin of your forehead. he continued to hold you, his arms wrapped protectively around you like a shield, his body radiating warmth and comfort.

his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions—anger at those who had hurt you, sadness at the suffering you had endured, and above all, a fierce determination to protect you. his hold on you tightened slightly, as if to drive his point home more effectively. he placed another gentle kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering there as he whispered once more, “i promise.”

it was the next morning when you found yourselves in sukuna’s living room, the soft light filtering through the windows casting a warm glow around you. the moment you woke up and realized your jacket was no longer draped over you, a rush of understanding washed over you—you knew he had seen the bruises.

the air was thick with unspoken words as you sat curled up on the couch, your knees tucked tightly to your chest. sukuna sat across from you on the coffee table, his presence both comforting and imposing. his large hand enveloped yours, his thumb tracing gentle patterns across your skin, grounding you in the moment.

“live with me,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. there was no hint of anger in his tone, no questions pressed upon you like weights. instead, there was a calm acceptance, an understanding that filled the space between you. he didn’t need you to explain, didn’t demand answers. he simply knew—knew that you would share when you were ready.

right now, all he wanted was to ensure you felt safe. his eyes were soft, filled with an earnestness that made your heart flutter. it was an offer laced with protection and care, a sanctuary away from everything that had hurt you. you felt the weight of his words, the promise behind them, and for the first time in a long time, you felt the flicker of hope ignite within you.

he added, “i’ll keep you safe, with me,” he murmured, his crimson irises locking onto yours with a fierce intensity.

as you looked into those depths, you saw nothing but love and a fierce protectiveness that wrapped around you like a warm embrace. it was a promise, a vow that resonated deep within you. the weight of his words settled in your heart, easing the tension that had built up inside.

after a moment of stillness, you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, “okay.” it was a simple word, yet it carried so much—acceptance, trust, and a tentative hope for the future. in that moment, you knew you weren’t alone anymore. with sukuna by your side, you could finally begin to heal.

sukuna's heart felt like it might overflow as you uttered that simple word—"okay." it was a fragile, tentative agreement, but it meant the world to him. the weight of your trust, the acceptance in your voice, settled over him like a protective veil, giving him strength and purpose.

he tightened his grip on your hand, bringing it up to press it against his cheek. closing his eyes for a moment, he savored the feel of your touch, relishing in the knowledge that you had chosen to let him in, to let him take care of you.

sukuna opened his eyes again, his gaze never leaving yours. there was a vulnerability in his expression, a hint of raw emotion beneath the surface of his usual stoicism.

“thank you,” he murmured, his voice gruff yet filled with a tenderness he rarely allowed himself to show. he lifted your hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against your knuckles. it was a silent gesture of gratitude, for trusting him, for allowing him to be your safe haven.

you pulled your hand gently from his and leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. the warmth of his body was immediate, grounding you in the present moment. your cheek rested against him as you closed your eyes, breathing in his familiar scent.

“thank you,” you whispered softly, your voice filled with gratitude and emotion. the words were simple, but they carried the weight of everything you felt—your appreciation for his unwavering presence, his strength, and the safe space he had become for you. in his arms, you finally felt like you could breathe.

sukuna’s heart ached at the sound of your whispered words. he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his lap, holding you tight against him. he buried his face in your hair, breathing you in, relishing the feeling of your warm body against his.

he held you like that for a moment, in silence, letting the gravity of the moment sink in. then, he pulled back slightly, his hands cupping your face, forcing you to look at him. “i’m going to take care of you now,” he said, his voice a low, firm promise.

your arms remained loosely wrapped around his neck, your eyes locking onto his. the intensity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat, but there was a softness there too—something rare, something that only you ever got to see. a small smile tugged at your lips when his fingers slid through your hair, carefully tucking a loose strand behind your ear. the gesture was tender, intimate, a silent promise in itself.

“why don’t you take a shower?” he suggested softly, his voice steady and calm, though you could sense the concern in it. “i’ll make you breakfast. then we’ll head out and get a few things for you.”

the warmth of his touch and the reassurance in his words made you feel safe, truly safe, as if everything might finally be okay. you nodded, still smiling, your fingers gently tracing the back of his neck before you whispered, “okay.”

sukuna nodded in response, his eyes flickering over your form, his gaze tracing every contour, every bruise on your skin beneath the fabric of your clothes. there was a simmering anger in him, a seething possessiveness that flared up at the sight of your wounds, but he shoved it down, focusing on the present moment instead.

he gently caressed your hair one last time before releasing you from his lap, his hands resting on your hips, giving them a tender squeeze. “go on,” he murmured, the huskiness in his voice betraying a hint of his desire to keep you close.

sukuna watched as you stood from his lap, letting his hands linger on your hips for a few moments longer than necessary. he found it difficult to tear his eyes away from you, every instinct in him screaming to keep you near. but he knew you needed some space to process and freshen up, especially after the night you had. he released you, reluctantly letting his hands fall away from your body, as you turned and padded out of the room. a pang of loneliness hit him as soon as you were out of sight, the absence of your presence making his chest feel strangely hollow.

while you were in the shower, sukuna made his way to the bedroom, his steps purposeful but his mind spinning. he entered his walk-in closet and grabbed some clothes for you—one of his oversized shirts and a pair of sweatpants. his fingers paused on the shelf, eyes lingering on the empty space he had cleared out for you just hours ago. when he woke up in the middle of the night, restless and unable to sleep, he’d wandered around the apartment, preparing a place for you, mentally moving things, physically rearranging others. the thought of you being here permanently had taken root, growing stronger with each passing hour.

as he grabbed the clothes, he couldn’t help but think of how simple yet monumental it felt to make space for you, not just in his home but in his life. it wasn’t something he had ever done for anyone else. but for you, he was ready.

walking into the kitchen, sukuna set to work making breakfast, though his hands moved almost mechanically. his mind was somewhere else entirely. underneath the surface of his calm exterior, a storm raged, wild and violent. every time he thought of the bruises he’d seen on your body, his blood boiled. he wanted nothing more than to storm into your house and beat your father to a pulp, to make him pay for every ounce of pain he’d caused you. but he stopped himself. he knew, as much as he craved that vengeance, it wouldn’t help. it would only add to the chaos in your life, and the last thing he wanted was to cause you more stress.

he inhaled deeply, pushing the anger down for now. for your sake, he had to remain calm, had to be the steady presence you needed. with that thought, he flipped the eggs in the pan and continued making breakfast, his mind fixed on the promise he made to you. he’d take care of you now.

as sukuna finished cooking breakfast, he plated the food and placed it on the table, his thoughts still troubled. he glanced up when he heard footsteps approaching, spotting you entering the kitchen, his over-sized shirt hanging loosely on your petite frame, making you look even more fragile.

his eyes fixated on a particularly large bruise on your collarbone, visible above the neckline of the shirt. the sight of it sent another surge of anger through him, but he forcefully tamped it down, schooling his features into a neutral expression.

you walked into the kitchen, sukuna’s oversized shirt hanging loosely on you, your damp hair still clinging to your neck. your smile was soft as your eyes landed on him, and despite everything, you managed to find comfort in his presence. stepping closer, you wrapped your arms around his side, nuzzling into him as you breathed in the scent of breakfast.

“smells good, baby,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his shirt. you tilted your head slightly to look up at him, your smile warm despite the tiredness in your eyes.

sukuna’s gaze softened when you hugged him, his hand instinctively coming to rest on the small of your back, holding you there for a moment. he forced the storm of anger back, focusing only on the tenderness of the moment. “it’ll taste even better,” he replied, his voice gentle.

sukuna gently ran his hand over your back, his fingers tracing small, soothing circles on your skin. his touch was light, almost hesitant, as he fought against the urge to pull you tightly against him, to feel the tangible proof of your presence.

the sight of you, so small and vulnerable, wrapped up in his clothes, stirred something primal within him. he wanted nothing more than to shield you from the world, to make sure no one would ever hurt you again. he leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. “let’s eat.”

you both sat at the dining table, the smell of the warm breakfast filling the room. the plates were set, and the atmosphere was lighter, though the weight of everything that had happened still lingered in the background. sukuna leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed loosely as he looked at you, a small smirk on his lips.

“so, what’s the plan for today?” he asked casually, though his tone hinted at something more — his desire to make sure you felt safe and comfortable.

you glanced at him, thoughtfully poking at your food with your fork before smiling softly. “maybe we can start by getting a few of my things? i can’t keep borrowing your clothes forever,” you teased, although a part of you relished the comfort of being wrapped in something that belonged to him.

sukuna chuckled at your response, glad to see you could still crack a joke, even after everything. his gaze softened as he watched you poke at your food, thinking of a way to make the day as stress-free as possible.

he leaned his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers under his chin thoughtfully. “that’s not a bad idea,” he said, a little grin forming on his lips. “but you look so good in my clothes, i might have trouble letting you wear anything else.”

you hummed, a small, amused smile forming on your lips as you placed a piece of egg into your mouth. after chewing, you raised an eyebrow and said, “i always look good, but... i also need my underwear and, you know, everything important.” your voice was light, playful, but there was a truth behind your words.

sukuna chuckled again, the sound low and rich, full of mirth. the tension in the room eased slightly as you engaged in the small banter.

he raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, resting his chin in one hand. his gaze was half-lidded, a smirk playing on his lips. “and if i say no? what are you gonna do then?” he teased, his tone filled with mock seriousness.

you chuckled, meeting his half-lidded gaze with a playful glint in your eyes. “oh, i’ll just walk around the apartment naked,” you teased back, your tone light and mischievous. the words slipped out easily, a deliberate attempt to break the lingering tension between you both.

sukuna’s smirk widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement at your response. he leaned back in his chair, resting his hands on the arms of the seat.

“oh really?” he drawled, drawing out the word as he tilted his head slightly. he let his eyes wander over your form, taking in the sight of you in his oversized clothes. “as much as the thought of that pleases me, i don’t think i’d get any work done, sweetheart.”

you chuckled softly as you leaned closer to sukuna, your movements slow and deliberate, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “that’s exactly why we need to get my things first,” you whispered, your lips barely brushing his skin as you spoke, your voice carrying a teasing tone.

pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your eyes sparkled with amusement as you added, “we can’t have you getting distracted all day, now can we?” your playful smile lingered as your hand briefly rested on his arm before you stood up, signaling your readiness to start the day.

before you could move far, sukuna shifted, his hand reaching out to pull you gently so that you stood between his legs. his presence was grounding, and as you placed your thumb lightly against his forehead, you leaned in to give him a soft kiss there. “you’ve been good to me,” you murmured, your voice full of affection, a quiet appreciation for the way he was looking out for you.

sukuna's heart skipped a beat at your words, the tenderness in your voice making his chest feel tight. he relished in the feeling of your touch against his cheek, the press of your lips against his forehead.

he wrapped his arms around you, drawing you closer between his legs. your small frame fit perfectly in the circle of his embrace, and he inhaled deeply, taking in your scent, letting it soothe his restless mind.

“you deserve nothing less,” he murmured, his voice gruff with unspoken emotions. he leaned his forehead against your stomach, nuzzling gently into the fabric of his shirt that you were wearing

for a moment, you stood still between his legs, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the weight of his head resting against your stomach. your eyes softened as you looked down at him, gently running your fingers through his hair and along his back in slow, soothing strokes.

you leaned down slightly, planting a few tender kisses on the top of his head, each one filled with quiet affection. you could feel the tension in his body start to ease under your touch, the weight of the world he often carried seeming just a little lighter in this moment of intimacy.

sukuna let out a soft sigh as you ran your fingers through his hair, his eyes fluttering closed as he basked in the feeling of your touch. every kiss you placed on his head was like a balm that eased the tension in his muscles, the ache in his heart.

he wrapped his arms tighter around you, pulling you impossibly closer, his body molding itself around you. he inhaled deeply, your scent filling his lungs, grounding him, centering him. he whispered your name, his voice a low, ragged murmur against your stomach.

he pressed a kiss against your stomach, the contact firm and deliberate, almost as if he was trying to imprint himself onto your skin. his hands moved to your hips, his fingers gripping a little tighter, as if he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. he pulled back just enough to look up at you, his eyes tracing over your face, taking in every little feature, every small bruise that littered your skin, a silent reminder of the pain you’d endured. and yet, despite it all, you were still here, standing in front of him.

anger flared up in him again at the sight of those bruises, a snarl forming on his lips. he hated how fragile you looked, how vulnerable. the protective instinct in him flared up, making him want to storm into your father's house and beat him senseless. but he knew that wouldn't solve anything. all it would do is add to your stress, something he desperately wanted to avoid. so he simply held you tighter against him, his voice barely above a growl.

“this is the last time he lays a hand on you.”

you nodded silently, your fingers threading gently through his hair, the soft strands slipping between your fingertips. you could feel the tension radiating off him, his muscles coiled tight beneath your touch as if he were holding back a storm. but your voice was calm, steady, as you whispered, “i’m safe now... now that i’m with you.”

your words seemed to soften the edge of his anger, and you leaned into his hold, letting the warmth of his body envelop you. the intensity of his protectiveness made you feel secure, knowing that, with him, you no longer had to fear what lay outside his walls.

sukuna leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he savored the gentle pull of your fingers through his hair. your words, soft and steady, washed over him like a soothing balm, extinguishing the fire of his anger.

he rested his forehead against your stomach, his shoulders relaxing fractionally. he held you tighter, his hand moving up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in the damp locks of your hair. “you always will be,” he replied firmly, his voice a low rumble against your skin.

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes tracing over your features, taking in the way they softened under his touch. he brought one hand up to cup your face, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek.

the sight of those goddamned bruises made him want to tear something apart, but he held back, his anger replaced by a fiercely protective instinct. he ran his thumb over a particularly dark bruise, his touch light but filled with an aching tenderness. “promise me,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“promise me,” he repeated, his gaze locking with yours. “promise me that no one will ever touch you like this again, that you’ll let me take care of you from now on.” he was demanding, commanding, his grip on your face firm but not painful. he needed to hear the words, to know that you were his now, that you would come to him when things got rough.

“promise me you won’t let him near you again,” he continued, his hand moving from your face to rest against your chest, his palm flat over your heart. “promise me you’ll never go back there.” the thought of you going back to that hellhole filled him with an icy dread, a clenching fear in his gut. he could not, would not, let anything happen to you again. even the thought made his blood run cold.

you nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest. his intensity was overwhelming, but it was laced with such fierce protectiveness that it made you feel safe. with a sad, soft smile, you reached up to place your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his palm against your heart.

“promise,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, but it was enough to make him relax ever so slightly. you could see the tension in his jaw ease as he exhaled, his fingers curling gently around yours.

“i won’t go back there,” you added quietly, your thumb brushing against his hand in a silent vow. “i’m here now, with you.” the truth of that statement grounded you both, a small sense of peace settling between the two of you as you held onto each other.

sukuna felt a flood of relief wash over him as your voice, soft and sincere, echoed your promise. his grip on your hand tightened slightly as he pulled you closer, his hold almost possessive, as if to ensure you would keep your word.

he let out a shuddering breath, the adrenaline and the raw emotion of the moment finally catching up to him. he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he inhaled deeply. “you’re mine now,” he murmured, his voice rough with feeling. “mine to protect, mine to keep safe. no one else’s.”

he ran his free hand down your back, his fingers tracing gentle circles over your spine. the gesture was meant to soothe, to ground him as much as it was to soothe you. he felt the need to touch you, to feel the warmth of your skin under his fingers, a tangible proof that you were really there, safe in his embrace. “and i’m yours, sweetheart,” he added, his eyes opening to fix you with an intense gaze. “mine to care for, mine to love. no one else’s.”

he leaned in, pressing his lips gently against the bruise on your collarbone. the kiss was light, almost reverent, but there was a hint of possessiveness in the way he held you tight against him. he pulled back just enough to speak, his voice low and firm. “i’m staying with you today.” he left no room for argument in his tone, his decision final. “and from now on, you’re coming home to me every night.”

your smile was soft, but your eyes, despite the exhaustion weighing them down, sparkled with a happiness that couldn't be hidden. his words, his unwavering support, and protectiveness wrapped around you like a warm blanket, easing the ache inside your heart. you leaned in closer, your arms sliding around his neck, pulling him into a gentle embrace.

nodding, you whispered, “i like that,” your voice full of quiet relief and contentment. resting your forehead against his, you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the comfort of being in his arms wash over you. being with him, knowing he’d protect you, made you feel safer than you had in a long time.

sukuna’s arms wrapped around you almost instinctively, pulling you flush against him. one hand came up to cradle the back of your head, the other resting at the small of your back, his fingers splayed across your skin.

he savored the feel of your body against his, the way you fit perfectly in his embrace, as if you were made to be there. he inhaled deeply, his chest expanding with the motion, his nose buried in the warm, familiar scent of your hair. he stayed like that for a long moment, just holding you, relishing the simple pleasure of having you close, safe and his. he could feel the steady thump of your heartbeat against his chest, the rhythm of it slowly syncing with his own, a reassurance that you were here, alive, and most importantly, that you were his.

the knowledge sent a thrill through him, a mix of pride and affection, that you belonged to him now, that you trusted him to take care of you. it ignited a primal need within him, a compulsion to keep you as close as possible, to ensure that no one could ever hurt you again.

“you’re so goddamned precious it’s almost ridiculous,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. his fingers moved idly against your back, tracing small circles against your skin as he held you.

he couldn’t help the surge of possessiveness that coursed through him as he held you. the idea of someone, anyone, daring to lay a hand on you, to cause you pain and fear, made his blood boil. he swore to himself right then and there that he would do anything, anything at all, to keep you safe.

[yeri-luvr]

BFF

pair: bestfriend!ningning x fem!reader

wc: 800+

includes: oral, strap use, ass slapping, top ningning

watching movies, gossiping, eating snacks, online shopping, and napping. that’s what your hangouts with your best friend, ningning, usually consisted of.

so it was a surprise when you found yourself getting your pussy ate by the same girl you used to watch my little pony with.

“fuck, just like that” you cry out, feeling the subtle sucking of nings tongue on your clit leaving you in a daze.

ningning could coo at the way you looked as you fell victim to the ministrations of her tongue, already grinding your heat against her face at a fervent pace.

you’re unsure of how you wound up in this position, but your best friend left you with nothing to complain about as she ate you out as if her life depended on it.

you scratch at her hair as she leaves open mouthed kisses on your hot cunt, so passionately that it made you believe you two were something else for a second. she stops her movements, drawing out a groan from your throat.

ning wastes no time shuffling through her closet, coming out wearing a strap that you had no clue of her owning.

you felt your slick growing as she repositioned you onto your fours, pressing against your back to get a better view of your messy pussy.

ningning feels herself getting wetter at the mere sight of you. she brings her fingers up to spread your lips apart, gaping at the the strings of slick between them.

“I could barely get my tongue inside you,” she circles the tip of her strap around your entrance, “I wonder how i’m gonna get my cock to fit.”

sliding the faux cock into your hole, your breath hitches as you began to feel the stretch that ningning provided. you were left with your jaw hanging, unnable to get a moan out. on the other hand, ning groaned unashamedly at the sight of you wrapped around her. once coming to a halt, she pulled back out with a little struggle because of your tightness.

the pace your best friend had set was moderate while you craved for more. desperate and needy, you rock back and forth hoping ningning would get the hint.

she was pleased at the sight of your hips bouncing back against her pelvis. you found yourself clawing at the sheets as she met your thrusts half way, one hand holding your hip while the other managed to slither around your waist towards your clit.

“tightest pussy ever.” she mumbled, gawking at how hard it is to pull out of you, “m’gonna fuck you all night.”

you shamelessly grind against ningning, mumbling incoherent curses against the bedsheets. she retracts her hand from your slit to hold onto your other hip, increasing the rapid, forceful friction.

the burn from the girthy cock left you wailing out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, allowing ningning to take control and do as she pleases.

missing the way ningning played with you, your finger circles your clit before you’re met with a spank that sends you flying forward. you squeal at the sting of nings slap on your ass.

“who told you to touch yourself?” she tends to your need herself, leaving you crying into the pillow under you.

“let me do the work. i’ll take care of you, princess.”

you find it impossible to mutter any words out, instead focusing on the feeling of ningning dicking you down.

you feel her makeshift your hair into a ponytail while rubbing your almost-spent cunt, picking up the pace and making your back arch.

the arch allowed her tip to kiss your cervix repeatedly, you cried out in pleasure while all ningning could think about was why you guys haven’t done this earlier.

you felt her hips stutter as she let out small whimpers, her pace faltering for just 5 seconds. At first you didn’t clock it but then you realized,

ningning came at the sight of you alone?

with the way she picked herself up fairly quickly, you wouldn’t have noticed it if you weren’t paying attention.

your grip on the bedsheets tightened as you got close to finishing, hearing ningning mutter something along the lines of, “been wanting this,” and “you’re so pretty like this”.

you were left breathless as you reached your high, ningning instinctively pulling you closer as she mumbled words of encouragement to you. all you focused on in that moment was the feeling of her dragged-out thrusts and the sound of your slick caused by your best friend.

the warmth of her lips pecking your back soothed you to a normal breath pace, fully coming down from the intensity of your climax. flipping your over and snuggling into your neck, ningning complained, “I can’t believe i finished before you did.”

you laugh at loud at this, already imagining all the teasing rights you’d have after this.

[keijisdolll]

#K. AKAASHI |

NSFW ( ＾◡＾)っ✂╰⋃╯

blurred lines . . . ❤︎

(i wrote this rly late at night so it kinda switches between second and third person + its my first time... dont mind pls ⛄︎)

to say you and keiji were just friends was a little... vague to say the least.

not even a little, absolute bullshit.

you two go way back; always at one another's homes every saturday or friday night, playing games with kotaro or just binging movies together- all that cute stuff. obviously, you two love each other, dare i say are in love with each other, but it's just never been a point of discussion. despite all the stolen glances, his obsession with kissing the top of your head or holding your hips, you guys have just … never talked about it.

it's not that you didn't want to talk about it, you wanted more than anything to do unspeakable things to that man for years now...who wouldn't?

but of course, all you could do every passing day was pray that something could magically change and you'd have his affection and sweet words to yourself every day. he probably has his reasons too for not just folding and confessing already. hopefully if he even reciprocates.

but when he asked you to be his roommate and share a dorm with him two years ago at the beginning of university, how could you tell someone so pretty no?

that pretty much never helped the increasing tension between you both - sexually, or romantically.... but hey, the no confessions game was still going strong.

even now, when keiji just returned back to your shared dorm from one of his later classes, he found you laid out on the plushness of the couch, your cutely decorated laptop resting on your bare thighs as you were wearing a cute pair of pajama shorts. a few short sentences on the illuminated screen of your laptop which screams to him that you were probably just assigned a research paper.

"new paper assigned n/n?" he hummed softly as he rested his bag on the floor near the door and taking off his shoes.

"mm yeah... only thing is that it's due in 2 days.." she huffed softly with a little pout, a face he knew meant she was stressed.

"yeah? how much words is it?" he hummed softly, sitting next to her laid body on the couch.

y/n turned her laptop to an angle keiji can see it, an email from her professor which explained her prompt and the word count.

damn.

"only two days? that has to be a mistake." he raised his brows, adjusting his glasses.

"its not..." she sighed softly. "i asked him about it in class. he was dead serious keiji...my grade is so done. i don't even know what to write about. all i got done was the context." y/n turned to him, a pout on her lips.

he sighed, "calm down, okay? stressing out this much isn't gonna help you n/n." his hand went to her cheek, his thumb gently stroking the apple of her cheek. damn him and his charm.

"come here, i'll help you." he murmured, his arms gently taking her arms to help her sit up and come up onto his lap.

and around 3 hours later, despite the evident exhaustion in both of you from this damn essay, you were a little more than half way through the word count.

"god...you're the best keiji..." she sighed softly, leaning her head back on his shoulder.

he chuckled, a familiar one that never really failed to make you feel butterflies in your stomach. "can't have my favorite girl stressing now can i?" he ruffled her hair gently.

holy fuck.

why he made her sit in his lap was beyond her. all she knew was that his little name that he just called her made her clench around absolutely nothing, and she was so sick of this back and forth of trying to act like he didn't have an effect on her.

so she purposely squirmed on his lap while pretending to read an article, her ass moving teasingly but in a subtle way. she knew her subtle grinding didn't by any means go unnoticed by him, not how his slender fingers dug a little harder into her hips, and definitely not how his breathing grew more ragged.

"hey... n/n... you're squirming a little...please... it's distracting me..." he spoke with a strained voice, trying not to breathe noticeably.

"hm..?" she looked back at him, who knew how worked up subtle grinding can get him, his cheeks were insanely flushed, his fingers uncontrollably going on her bare thighs.

"come... get off n/n-" he panicked a little, his arms pulling up her torso to pick her up and trying to place her back onto the couch, but she went right back down, on his fucking bulge.

"oh fuck.." he choked out quietly his head going back against the arm rest.

"you're that hard from me barely even grinding?" she started. no turning back now for her. and to her surprise, all those years of chasing and wondering if he wanted her back... she felt so relieved from his next words.

"i can't fucking help it with you.." he swore helplessly. his needy hands guiding her hips to rub herself against his obvious bulge. "all this time and you don't think that i've been wanting to kiss you senseless since highschool..?"

and from that, her lips were on his, sharing wet and sloppy kisses that were making him leak pre cum into his sweatpants. grinding on his lap so nicely that she had him cursing into their sloppy kiss.

they eventually pulled away, a thin string of saliva between their mouths as her arms came up around his neck to steady herself as she ground on his bulge. gosh, his fucking print was so visible to her too from his sweatpants.

"fuck...i love you keiji.."

and within less than two minutes, your cute pajama shorts laid on the floor of your bedroom along with his sweatpants.

his hand held a handful of your hair while his other rested on the plush curve of your ass. his hips were thrusting so good into your drenched cunt, the room practically filled with the sound of your plush ass slapping against his hips and your muffled moans as he just sweet talked you.

damm him.

"god... you dont know how long i wanted to fuck you.." he panted into your ear, his skin slick with sweat

"keiji..." she cried helplessly beneath him.

"mhm baby... i got you...taking my cock so well." he murmured, his large hand squeezing her ass softly.

"you're so fucking pretty n/n, you know that?" he mumbled, placing sweet kisses and sucking hickeys onto her neck, his thrusts getting harder.

she couldn't even form a coherent sentence anymore. it's not like he was being crazy rough, but his cock was fucking long. and at a moderate, more fast pace like what he was doing, she felt as if she was seeing stars.

"ah...mmph..." she moaned sweetly into the pillow, knowing he was about to cum from how sloppy his thrusts were getting.

"mmh... there you go... oh fuck baby.." he panted, pulling out. his hand that was holding your hair let go, pumping slowly as thick and hot cum landed on your plush ass.

she panted softly into the pillows, her hips lowering from where he held them up as she rolled onto her back, his cum on her skin getting onto the sheets.

he panted soflty, pulling her into his arms and pressing a gentle loving kiss on her shoulder, while mumbling a soft, "i've always loved you baby."

its my first time writing so pls leave tips jjfnjjngjngjngjtn

[swampjawn]

What happens when you let a film nerd make an anime?

Fuuga Yamashiro (山代風我) joined Science Saru in 2017 as an Assistant Production Manager during production of "Night Is Short, Walk on Girl." He was essentially Studio Co-founder Masaaki Yuasa's secretary, but he worked his way up to assistant director on "Keep Your Hands off Eizouken" and finally got to direct his own first full Anime series, Dandadan.

Having worked so closely with one of the greatest living auteur directors, you might think he would share that overpowering individual creative influence, but as he has pointed out in interviews himself, it's much the opposite.

Instead of relying on his own creative voice, which he doesn't seem confident about in interviews, he literally collects techniques from his favorite movies, breaking them down into storyboards and adding them to his arsenal to re-contextualize later. And as you may be able to tell from watching Dandadan, his biggest influences aren't anime and manga, but live action film -- something he seems to have studied obsessively.

And when you compare the anime to the original manga (which itself is already filled with references to old movies and TV) subtle adaptation choices make the deft application of techniques borrowed from other storytellers very clear. Every choice is made for a reason and furthers the story being told in some way; nothing is there for no reason. like the simple, controlled camera pans and tilts that make the serpoian spaceship feel cold and sterile, or the crazywackysilly, un-predictable wide-angle camera movements that intrude on that cold sterile world when turbo granny shows up.

In one interview during the production of "Keep Your Hands off Eizouken" Yamashiro pulls out his notebook where he had collected all these techniques and gives an example:

"There's a technique called 'Dolly Zoom', which is a technique that changes the perspective of the background while keeping the size of the subject." […] "In 'Cult of Chucky,' which I saw recently, there is a scene in which a long passageway is filmed in telephoto, while a wheelchair moves forward. The character is 'getting closer, but the viewer feels farther away'. This is the kind of thing I collect." […] "I'd like to combine these things in various ways and do it in animation." (I took some liberties with this, the translation was pretty rough)

And sure enough, that exact same type of dolly zoom rears its head in Dandadan as Okarun sprints away from Turbo Granny and the mouth of the tunnel stretches impossibly into the distance.

It may seem counterintuitive to ascribe too much importance to the creative vision of one person who specifically talks about his own lack of strong creative vision, (and to be clear, he's far from the only person playing a major role) but I think it's precisely that encyclopedic knowledge of film techniques and that pragmatic, meticulous attitude that may have acted as a stabilizing force for Yuasa, and that also provides some needed structure to a ball of pure energy like Dandadan, while still preserving its essence and the eclectic influences that it wears on its sleeve.

Also, mad respect for using the seventh installment of the Child's Play franchise as your example of a dolly zoom instead of, like, Vertigo, Jaws, or Goodfellas.

This is just a sliver of what I talk about in this full video! A minuscule piece of the pie! Some tiny little crumbs for the peasants! So if you consider yourself worthy, go watch the whole video. I think it's good.

Uhh also reblog! I spent way too long on that intro animation, so I need it. Bad.

[peariote]

YAAAYYYY OMG TYSM!

okok so could u pls write a mari x f reader?

maybe she's best friends with jackie and shauna and they notice she'd been spending more amd more time with mari or just around her.

reader is 100% in love with mari😔🙏

THANK YOU!

mari x reader pretty gworl !!! love her. absolutely forgot this was finished and in my drafts. so sorry to my mari lovers

The lunch area was already bustling when you got there. Obviously, you’d expected Jackie and Shauna to already have a table. Who else would be there, though? That’s the question.

Sometimes Lottie and Nat filed in, giggly and absorbed in each other in a way that screamed that they had been smoking whatever pot Nat got her hands on. Others, Tai would come to talk to Shauna about English—Van following to talk to Jackie about whatever movie they’d recommended her. But the best days were—

“Mari!” You’re bounding over before you even realize, plopping down next to the familiar head of black hair instead of next to your best friends. Her resulting nose crinkle is only for show; she’s always saving face for the few seconds before she relaxes into your energy.

“Yes, yes, hi. I know, you love me.” Her response is flippant, as expected—but she also hits the nail on the head. And of course, Shauna notices your hitch of breath, subtle as it is.

Her gaze turns to you, suspicious glare firmly planted. All you can do is avoid her gaze, smiling indulgently at something Van quips. The table laughs, and the awkward moment melts away.

The next few weeks, Jackie and Shauna get noticeably more skeptical. You were already aware they were protective—no girl got through to you without their thorough scrutinization. The team, apparently, was no exception.

“So… what’s up with you and Mari?” They’d set it up perfectly—a sleepover, a few beers snuck from Mr. Taylor’s stash, and a the sound of her radio crackling softly with the mixtape’s old tape. It’s probably almost burned through with how much you’ve played it.

You were all sporting a healthy buzz—enough to make Jackie giggly and Shauna slightly sullen—and they’d relaxed you with a quiet activity. Jackie had insisted on painting your nails, pushing you down and making quick work applying the polish. The question comes completely out of left field, and it shows with how you blink owlishly.

“…what?” You’re just a bit caught off guard and a bit too tipsy for this. They grin—well, Jackie does. Shauna returns your wide-eyed gaze with something much more focused.

“You’re into Mari.” Shauna murmurs. She’s not asking you—not in the slightest.

…fuck. You’re caught now. The scrunch of your face tells them all they need to know, but they want to hear it from your lips.

“…yes.” You confirm, careful not to jostle Jackie’s work with your sudden, uncomfortable shift.

All you get, surprisingly, is a hum from the both of them. Despite their apparent acceptance, it settles in your gut like a rock. You’re uneasy—and you’re well within your right to be.

The sleepover, and its resulting uneasiness, has faded in the haze of alcohol and the slow effluxion of time. You’re unassuming when Jackie and Shauna ask you out to the drive in—another girl’s night to see some terrible slasher film. Nothing out of the ordinary.

They both leave you to “get snacks”, as they said, but with the way Jackie giggles and the slow, easy smile spreading across Shauna’s face you wouldn’t be surprised if they were scheming. Or hooking up—you should’ve considered that sooner.

It’s seems to be the first answer.

You’re treated to the sound of muffled yells and ceaseless giggles getting closer—slowly creeping towards you and around the car.

“You bitches—let me go—“

The movie’s snuck into your brain, the sudden thought of a killer swiftly dashed when your idiotic best friends shove Mari into the open trunk of Shauna’s shitty hatchback—the seats folded down for more room.

Then they’re running off, probably to stow away in Lottie’s car. Mari’s yells after them, now without a hand over her mouth.

“Fuck you two!”

It’s enough to make you laugh, her attention swiftly turning to yours. Her acute gaze, burning with anger, directed completely at you is overwhelming enough to bring heat to your cheeks.

“…did they plan this with you, or…” she huffs, settling back against the makeshift wall of pillows and spread of blankets you’d carpeted the car’s trunk with—resigned to her fate.

“No, no.” You confirm through laughter. “They just…”

You pause, lick your lips. Your gaze flickers away, so you don’t notice how she follows it.

“They just know… that I like you.” It’s uncomfortably earnest—hanging between you. In a bid to end break the tension you turn your eyes back to the movie, just in time to see the 12th terribly SFX-ed murder. You don’t get to look long, though.

Mari’s fingers push your jaw, bringing your face back into her eyeline.

“You’re not fucking with me?” She mumbles lowly, focused so intently your cheeks burn.

“No. Not fucking with you.” You respond through a shaky exhale. Your next inhale is interrupted by the press of her lips, the touch swallowing the air from your lungs.

“You should’ve told me that before your cronies kidnapped me.”

“Well, I didn’t know they’d do that.”

[finsplurtz]

nobody’s home — choso.kamo

— dom ! male.reader x sub ! Choso Kamo

— contents : step-cest , touching w/o consent uh oh , Choso tries to tell yn to stop but gives in bc he loves the feeling , handjob , biting n hickeys , mention of virginity loss n Choso does cry abt it , does change his mind abt it nd ends up rlly liking it , praises n degrading lolll

warnings : step cest obv , maybe.. r4pe implications not sure wtv

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮

Choso’s mother had divorced his father and she found a boyfriend who already had a kid.

The first time they met was … interesting. He got home from hanging out with some friends, he greeted his mom and step-dad, went into the bathroom and quickly backed out closing the door.

He covered his face, he had walked in to some guy shirtless in the bathroom. He went to ask his mom and she told him that, yn, was his new younger brother.

When they saw each other after that he apologized.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to you know…” yn smirked checking the guy out while he wasn’t looking.

“It’s cool, we’re both guys. Nothing to be embarrassed about” He flashed a smile before leaving to his room.

Yn was younger than Choso by 3-4 years.

Choso definitely caught onto the subtle hints that yn was throwing his way. Yn would sometimes invite him to watch a movie or something, he’d get super cuddly and touchy.. like have his arm wrapped around his waist or have his hand slowly massage his thigh.

Sometimes when they’d be out yn would insist on buying Choso a drink, or even smoking together or something, but he always found a way to make it sound intimate.

Maybe Choso was going crazy.. maybe yn was just really trying to have a nice sibling bonding moment and Choso was taking it the wrong way..

Okay enough of turning yn’s offers down, he definitely just wants to be close brothers.

“Hey, ‘oso. Mom and dad wanted to ask you something” yn popped into Choso’s room and went over to sit on his bed and handed him the phone. Usually his parents called on yn’s phone, since sometimes Choso doesn’t answer cs he’s busy studying or sleeping.

“Hey hon, just wanted to let you know we won’t be home till very late! It’s our 1 year anniversary and we have a lot planned” Choso hummed while yn took whatever book Choso was reading and skimming thru it.

He sighed and put the book back. Gently pulled Choso down towards the bed and cuddled him. Choso was still listening to his mom talk and talk but he wasn’t paying attention. His heart was pounding in his chest.

yn had his leg over Choso’s waist and arm over his chest. Choso could feel yn’s warm breath on his neck, his lips were an inch away from Cho’s skin.

Finally his mom ended the call and Choso was frozen.

“…uh…here’s your phone..” He said.

“Just put it on the counter or something” yn said in a low voice right under Choso’s ear. “….what are u doing”

“…nobody’s home, oso..~” Choso could practically hear yn’s smirk.

“Have you ever touched a guy..?” his hand gently massaged over Choso’s chest.

“…n-no…yn I- I don’t think this is…” Choso pushed yn’s arm away and managed to sit up.

“Mm..awww cmon.. we’re alone, nobody can walk in on us..” yn looked at his half brother with low eyes.

“S..still it’s just..w-wrong—“ Choso flinched when he felt yn tightly wrap his arm around Choso’s waist to keep him from squirming and dug his hands into Choso’s pants.

“y-yn..?! S..stop I don’t…!” His breath hitched when yn began to stroke him. Choso’s nails were digging into yn’s arm trying to squirm away or something. yn rested his chin on his brother’s shoulder and continued to fap him.

“Ngh..! Mhhnn…~ s….stop..” Choso was panting and subconsciously grinding his hips into his brothers hand. He threw his head back exposing his neck, yn saw the opportunity and began to kiss and suck on Choso’s pale skin.

“Ahh~ f..fuck…~” Choso’s grip on yn’s arm loosened and he brought one hand up to cover his mouth.

“See…you love it, don’t you…~” yn whispered into the ravenette’s ear. Choso just whined, he didn’t really care anymore. Plus yn had a point, nobody would ever catch them doing this. It’s not like they were even related…

yn sped up his pace and stroked faster while sinking his sharp teeth into Choso’s neck.

“Ah- ah I’m gonna c..come—“ Choso gasped and grabbed onto yn’s hair tightly as he came and made a mess in his briefs. “Fuuuckk…s..so good~” He whimpered as his dick twitched in yn’s hand.

yn slid his arm off Choso’s waist and pulled his pants off along with his underwear. He easily lied him down on the bed and used the finger that had his cum on it to finger him.

“..nnnyooo…d..don’t….” Choso was too dizzy to put up a fight anymore. He just let out more moans and cries when yn found his prostate and massaged his fingers over it.

yn stroked himself, he loved the view. Choso’s pretty little hole being slowly opened by his fingers, just ready to take his cock..

yn pulls his fingers out and quickly pushed himself into Choso earning a gasp and whine from him.

“S-shit..! Y..you…” Choso felt tears welling up in his eyes, he wasn’t sure how to feel….

yn noticed and rolled his eyes. He leaned down to kiss Choso’s cheek.

“Don’t worry….your brother is gonna make you feel good..~” Choso blushed and screamed when said brother began to roughly thrust into him hitting him right in his g spot.

“UGHN-! F-FUCK TOO MUCH..!”Choso felt a tad bit overstimulated, but fuck did it feel good.

“Aww..look at you just taking my cock so well, hm?~ you love it…you love how well your little brother stuffs you, don’t you, prince..~” Choso moaned at yn’s dirty talk, he was so into this. He loved every second of this and he didn’t want it to ever stop.

“Right, Choso..?” He loved how his name sounded in yn’s mouth, he let out a slutty moan and smiled as best as he could.

“Mm..hm..~!” yn smirked and began to kiss Choso’s shoulder and back.

“Such a good little slut..” yn felt himself get close and stuttered in his thrusts.

Choso felt his second orgasm nearing, he gripped the sheets and stuck his tongue out, rolling his eyes back.

“You’re all mine…my stupid toy..just for me to fuck, m…mkay..~?” Yn said into Choso’s ears pushing him over the edge.

“Mhnn-!!” Choso bit his tongue as he came one more time making a mess of his sheets. A smile creeped on his face at the feeling of yn’s hot semen coat his warm mushy walls in white.

They were both catching their breaths and yn sat up and slick his hair back looking at the art he ..

“……I…I’m sorry, cho’…” He pulled out and turned Choso on his back who just looked at him. Choso had drool and tear stains on his face, his lips red from biting them.

“I’m…so sorry..” The regret sitting in the pit of yn’s stomach. It quickly left when Choso pulled him down by his neck into a warm embrace.

“..’m your stupid toy…” Choso whispered smiling to himself. He didn’t regret this.

Yn sighed and returned the hug.

“..sure”

a/n ; I’ve always hated anything like step cest or inc*st it’s yuck but idk Choso being so big brother n shi kinda possessed me into writing this sorry xx

[ghostlycamil4]

could you write a story about bakugou teaching y/n how to kiss?

🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜: 𝑆𝑜𝑓𝑡 𝑆𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑠

Thank you so much, hope you like it as much as I did! Don’t forget to drop any other requests you got in mind!

Every time Bakugo tried to make a kiss last longer than a brief brush, you pulled away. Not abruptly, but with subtle gestures: a slight turn of the head, a nervous laugh that broke the moment, an apologetic excuse about the time, the movie, the phone.

And of course, he wasn’t an idiot. He knew everyone had their own pace. Their fears. Their walls. And if you needed time, he was gonna respect that. Period.

Still, in his crimson gaze, always alert, the question floated: Why?

That night you were cuddled on the couch. A movie played in the background, the lights were low, a bowl of popcorn between you and a spoon buried in a tub of ice cream you were sharing. The atmosphere was chill, comfortable… until he noticed some ice cream at the corner of your lips.

"You got a little something..." he murmured, leaning in to wipe it with his thumb. But his eyes, intense as always, didn’t leave yours. And with a smooth movement, with that same confidence he always carried, he gently held your chin and pressed his lips to yours.

He was inviting you to follow… but there was no response.

You pulled back. It wasn’t dramatic, just a tiny space, barely a few centimeters. But for him, it was enough.

"Y/n..." he whispered. His voice was deep, rough, but controlled, like every word cost him his calm. "Something wrong?"

You hesitated. Swallowed hard, looked down. You couldn’t hold his gaze. And in the end, with a low voice, almost embarrassed, you confessed:

"It’s just… I don’t know how to kiss."

For a second, Bakugo went silent. He blinked, processing your words. And then, to his own surprise, let out a soft laugh—more like an incredulous exhale.

"That’s the problem?" he scoffed at himself, shaking his head for overthinking it so much.

"I feel like I’m gonna mess it up…" you said, biting your lower lip, insecure.

"There’s nothing to mess up, Y/n…" he replied sincerely. His voice sounded different now: lower, warmer, like he was talking to you from a place he didn’t show to just anyone.

You made a face, still not quite convinced.

"I’m gonna learn," you declared, more like a promise to yourself than to him.

"Oh yeah? And how you gonna learn?" he asked, crossing his arms, raising a brow with barely hidden amusement.

You went silent. You didn’t wanna admit what you’d already thought about. Didn’t wanna sound pathetic.

"Reading? Watching videos? Or worse… practicing with your reflection in the mirror?" he went on, and even though his tone had a teasing edge, it wasn’t mean.

"You’re making fun of me?"

"No," he denied, shrugging. "I’m just saying it’s kinda dumb… when you got me right here."

You looked at him, a little surprised, a little hopeful.

"You gonna teach me?"

He barely nodded, that half-smirk on his face that made you feel like you were the only person in his world.

"Who else, Y/n?"

"Now?"

"Now… if you want."

You didn’t say anything. You just closed your eyes and let yourself be guided. Because if you were going to learn, you wanted it to be with him.

The calluses of his palms grazed your cheeks, rough against your skin, but the touch was incredibly gentle. His thumbs stopped just beneath your cheekbones, drawing tiny circles, as if he was memorizing every detail of you.

The first touch of his lips was so light you barely noticed it. There was no pressure, no rush. Just the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

He leaned in again, this time with a bit more pressure. His lips moved slowly, teaching you the rhythm:

To the right (a soft glide).

A pause (his lips stayed still, letting you feel the heat).

To the left (firmer this time).

By the time he pulled away, his fingers were still on your face, his eyes watching you intently.

“See? There’s nothing to mess up,” he said, and his voice, for the first time, sounded almost… sweet.

His lips brushed yours again, slowly, recreating that warm, soft connection where time seemed to fade away. He paused there for a moment, breathing with you.

“I’m gonna use my tongue this time,” he whispered, his lips barely parted from yours. “Just a little. And when I do… don’t freak out. You don’t have to do anything right away, okay?”

Bakugo kissed you again, just as slowly, but this time his tongue barely peeked out, grazing your lower lip. It was a light caress, an invitation, not an invasion. He waited for your reaction. When you didn’t pull away, he did it again, firmer this time, running his tongue softly along the seam of your lips, asking for permission with patience.

“Open them a little,” he whispered, his voice soft between kisses. “Not much… just a bit.”

You did.

His tongue sought yours carefully, touching it, brushing it gently, guiding you.

“Don’t push,” he murmured between sighs. “Just follow me… respond.”

When you dared to touch his tongue with more intent, when your movements stopped being clumsy and became curious, he smiled against your lips, quietly, as if he didn’t want to interrupt your progress.

“Feel it?” he asked, his breath mixing with yours, his voice low.

The sounds —your muffled moans, his approving grunts— became impossible to ignore.

Your hands, which had stayed still at your sides until then, rose of their own accord. Your trembling fingers found his chest first, feeling the wild thrum of his heartbeat under the shirt, before tangling in the collar of his hoodie.

By the time you pulled away, both of you were panting. Not exactly from lack of air, but from everything that kiss had awakened. Your lips still pulsed with every rapid beat of your heart, and his looked slightly more red, wet, and slightly parted.

A strand of saliva still connected you, glistening obscenely under the warm light of the sunset streaming through the window.

His thumb slid slowly over your lower lip, wiping away the trace with an unexpected tenderness.

“Not bad for a first lesson,” he murmured, his voice lower, rougher.

You let out a nervous laugh, still trying to catch your breath, but didn’t look away. Not after everything that had passed between you in that kiss.

“And… what grade do you give me?” you asked, barely a whisper, unable to hide the shyness still trembling in your voice.

Bakugo smirked, his gaze intense and slightly mocking as he leaned in a little toward you, letting his breath caress your skin.

“A grade high enough to want more, Y/n,” he replied, his tone low and husky. “But don’t get excited, there’s still plenty more to learn.”

The gleam in his eyes was clear: he wasn’t stopping there.

• Masterlist

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