#practice completed i can go on with the course

[hoe4hotchner]

can i req aaron with an s/o who's ovulating or has a high sex drive and is easily turned on by him (regardless of if he's trying to or not)

The Hotchner effect | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | WC: 2.0k | CW: MDNI, 18+, smut, Couch sex.

A/N: Well…… this was the smut I was excited about writing the night before I was hit by that car. So, here you guys go ;) To anyone interested: I've almost made a full recovery at this point. In a couple of days I'll probably be 100% fine again :D

You always thought you had decent control over yourself and your body—at least until you met Aaron Hotchner. Somehow, just being around him tested your limits, especially when he wasn’t even trying. Every. Single. Day. Whether it was his voice, as low and commanding as it was when you visited him in the middle of a case brief at the BAU, or the way his tie shifted as he rolled up his sleeves, everything he did made your heart race—and that was on a normal day.

But today? Today, your hormones were in overdrive. Ovulating didn’t just make you aware of him; it made everything he did feel like it was specifically designed to unravel you. All of your senses tuned onto his wavelengths.

His scent lingering in the sheets—hypnotizing.

The sound of his footsteps across the floor—ears perked.

Every little twitch and movement he made—you suddenly had 20/20 vision.

Like now, as he stood in the kitchen casually pouring himself a cup of coffee before retreating back to his office. The crisp white shirt he wore hugged his frame just right, the fabric stretched taut across his broad shoulders, his suit jacket long forgotten on the back of his chair after he had returned home.

He wasn’t even speaking, but the way he leaned against the counter, so composed and yet so authoritative, was enough to make your stomach flip and your thoughts veer wildly off course.

“Are you alright?” His voice cut through your haze, and you froze, realizing you’d been staring at him.

“Uh, yeah! Fine. Totally fine,” you said quickly, reaching for a cup as if that was why you’d been standing there in the first place.

His lips twitched in a faint smile, and you cursed internally because even that was hot. Damn him.

The problem was, Aaron knew. Maybe not the full extent of it, but he was far too observant not to notice the way your breath hitched when he looked at you or how your cheeks flushed whenever he got too close. And right now, you could see the flicker of amusement in his dark eyes as he stepped closer, seemingly to grab the sugar.

“Sure you’re fine?” he murmured, his voice dipping just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You gripped the counter, your body betraying you as heat flushed through your skin. “Y-yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

His gaze lingered, assessing, and for a moment, you thought he might press further. But instead, he leaned back, sipping his coffee, completely unbothered by the chaos he was causing inside you.

The rest of the day wasn’t any better. Whether it was the way he adjusted his tie, the faint scruff on his jaw after a long phone call, or how his hand brushed yours when he came out of the office for a moment, you were practically vibrating with tension.

By the time he finished his workload, you were ready to combust.

Aaron was undoing his cufflinks when you finally snapped. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” you blurted, crossing your arms as you stood in the middle of the living room.

He glanced up, eyebrows raised, but the smirk tugging at his lips told you everything. “I might have an idea,” he said, his voice smooth as silk, and damn him again because he was still so calm, so composed, while you were unraveling.

“You’re driving me insane, Aaron,” you confessed, and this time, his smirk softened into something deeper, more knowing.

“Come here,” he said, his tone shifting, and the weight of it alone made your knees weak.

You didn’t hesitate, crossing the space between you in an instant. His hands found your waist, pulling you close as his lips brushed your temple. “You know,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, “I’ve been trying to keep my distance all day because I could tell you were… distracted.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh. “Distracted is an understatement.”

His fingers tightened slightly on your hips, his lips grazing your ear now. “Well, sweetheart, I’m all yours now.”

And that was all it took for you to finally close the gap, pulling him into a kiss that was every bit as heated as the tension that had been simmering between you all day.

As soon as your lips met, it was like all the pent-up desire and arousal from the day came pouring out in a wave of pure, unbridled passion. Your kiss was hungry, almost feral, your hands roaming over Aaron's body as if trying to memorize every edge and angle.

Aaron groaned into your mouth, his own hands slipping under your shirt to explore the soft skin of your back. He tugged impatiently at the fabric, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over your head and toss it aside before his fingers quickly found the clasp of your bra and unhooked it.

His gaze raked over your exposed breasts as he freed them.

"Fuck, baby," he growled, palming your one, the callous on his fingers rough against your skin. "You're so gorgeous. I can't get enough of you."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your nipples hardening almost painfully under his touch. You arched into his hand, a needy whimper escaping your lips. He took the opportunity to lower his head and capture one of your nipples between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to send a jolt of pleasurable pain straight to your core.

You cried out, tangling your fingers in his hair and holding him close. He lavished attention on your breasts, alternating between nipping and sucking until you were writhing against him, your body aching for more. Your hands scrabbled at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

Aaron seemed to understand, moving back just long enough to yank his shirt off before continuing his attack on you again. The feel of his bare chest against yours was electric, sending sparks of pleasure through your nerves. You ran your hands over his muscles, marveling at the way they flexed beneath your touch.

Your arousal was growing with each passing second, and your panties soaked. You could feel the heat building between your legs, your body crying out for release. Aaron seemed to sense it, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust. "Tell me what you need, baby," he murmured, his fingers toying with the button. "Tell me how you want me to make you feel."

His words were like a match thrown in a puddle of gasoline, igniting the fire in your veins. "I need you," you gasped, your hips bucking against his hand. "I need you inside me. Please, Aaron, fuck me."

A wicked grin spread across Aaron's face, his eyes glinting with promise. "With pleasure," he purred, popping the button of your pants and sliding them down your legs. You kicked them off eagerly, leaving you in nothing but a damp pair of panties.

Aaron drank in the sight of you, his gaze trailing over every inch of exposed skin. "God, you're perfect," he breathed, running a finger along the edge of your panties. "So perfect."

He hooked his fingers under the fabric, slowly pulling them down and baring you completely to his hungry gaze. You flushed under his scrutiny, but the heat of his stare only served to fuel your desire. He leaned you back, the weight os his body pressing against you as your back hit the cushion of the couch.

"I'm going to taste every inch of you," he promised as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. "I'm going to make you come so hard you forget your own name."

And with that, he buried his face between your legs, his tongue delving into your already dripping folds. You cried out at the first touch, your back arching off the couch. He lapped at you greedily, his tongue exploring every crevice and fold, finding all the spots that made you gasp and moan. He knew you too well.

Your hands flew to his hair, holding him in place as he worked you over with skill. Your thighs trembled on either side of his head, your hips rocking against his mouth in a desperate search for more. He obliged happily, sliding two fingers inside you and curling them just right, hitting the spot that made stars blind your vision.

"Oh god, Aaron," you keened, your head thrashing from side to side. "Don't stop, please don't stop. I'm so close."

He doubled his efforts, sucking hard on your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, building and building until it finally washed over you in a tidal wave of ecstasy.

You screamed his name as you came, your body convulsing beneath him. He worked you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you were boneless and spent, collapsing back against the mattress. But Aaron was far from done with you.

He crawled up your body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that tasted of your own arousal. You could feel his stiffness pressing against you, hot and insistent. Breaking the kiss, he reached down to undo his pants, shoving them down just far enough to free his cock.

"I need to be inside you," he grunted, positioning himself at your entrance. "I need to feel you wrapped around me. Think you can take one more, for me?"

You nodded breathlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. He surged forward, burying himself inside you with one smooth thrust. You both groaned at the sensation, your bodies fitting together like they were made for each other.

Aaron set a hard and fast pace, his hips snapping against yours with each powerful stroke. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your moans and cries of pleasure. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle and allowing him to go even deeper.

"You feel amazing," he panted, his eyes locked on yours. "So tight and wet and perfect. I never want this to end."

His words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, your walls clenching around him in response, your eyes watering from pure bliss. He groaned at the sensation, his thrusts becoming erratic and uncoordinated as he chased his own release.

You could feel another orgasm building low in your belly, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each pass of his cock. "Harder," you gasped, digging your nails into his back. "Fuck me harder, Aaron."

He obliged with a guttural moan, hammering into you with all his strength. The bed creaked beneath you, rocking with the force of his thrusts. You could feel him pulsing inside you, growing thicker and harder with each passing second.

"Cum for me, baby," he groaned, his voice strained with effort. "Come all over my cock. I want to feel you squeezing me."

His words were all it took to send you hurtling over the edge once more. You came with a near-silent scream, your body shuddering and convulsing beneath him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. Aaron followed a second later, burying himself deep inside you and flooding your womb with his seed.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you gasping for breath as you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasms. He pressed soft kisses to your face and neck, murmuring words of love and devotion against your skin.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," you whispered back, tangling your fingers in his hair. "More than anything."

He smiled against your skin, rolling onto his side and pulling you close. You nestled into his arms, your body still tingling with pleasure. As you drifted off to sleep, safe and sated in his embrace, you knew that this was where you belonged.

[sweet-hedonist]

Lessons in Restraint

Viktor x fem! reader

After losing a bet to your partner, you end up having to deal with the consequences of your actions, no matter how much you beg.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, dom/sub dynamics, bondage

A/N: wrote this in a fugue state at 4am and finished it on public transit, I’m a god of creation lol. Not proofread at all but I like it. This is so horny and debauched have fun. Reblogs and comments make my day (I read every single one)

“You know, it’s incredibly satisfying to see you like this after talking such a big game.” His voice is lilting and thick and like a haunting melody that weaves its way into your brain and doesn’t leave, no matter how hard you try to expel it.

The smirk is audible and as you stare up at this man from your place on the floor, rage bubbles deep within you, flavoring the already cultivated desire that has been driving your instincts.

A bet. A stupid, idiotic, ridiculous bet was all it took to end up here: naked, bound, and kneeling before Viktor as if he were your king.

The bet had been simple.

“You have no self control.” He’d mocked you one late night in the lab as you lay draped over him on the small beat to hell couch they’d brought in for you. Basking in the post-sex glow, you laughed airily, your mind still a bit foggy and blissed out.

“Neither do you. Can you blame me? I’m a girl who knows what she wants.” You punctuated your statement by snuggling further into him.

A chuckle, then “Patience is a virtue. God you’re probably not even able to last a week without needing me.” His hands tracing lazy patterns on your back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Is that a challenge?” Your eyes narrowed at him from your place on his chest.

“Perhaps.”

He’d been right of course. You didn’t last a week without needing him, folding just on the morning of day 6, practically begging him to fuck you, touch you, anything at all.

The smirk that split his face was so vile and hypnotizing that you couldn’t take your eyes off of it. Of course, he obliged and fucked you so good you couldn’t walk for a day.

“You need lessons in restraint, humility. And seeing as you lost the bet…”

Which led you to right now.

Two in the morning.

Completely alone in his lab.

At his mercy.

The soft rope around your wrists and ankles caresses your skin, knots only tightening as you squirm. Wrist to wrist, ankle to ankle, and just for an added kick in the mouth, wrist to ankle. Knees spread and back arched as Viktor sat in his desk chair, which from this angle looked much more like a throne on which an emperor sat.

Alas, it would not be the benevolent kind.

“What, no witty comeback or retort for me? Are you all out of fight? Or are you just learning to mind your tongue?” he leans forward, forehead almost touching yours but not quite. He hasn’t touched you in over an hour. Just lingering stares or fabric or even the occasional breath of air. Nothing else.

“Or…” he leans close to yours ear, “you’re just being quiet to avoid the shame?” White hot fear washes over you. It’s so hot it’s freezing and you want to simultaneously worm away from the sensation and also surrender to it.

“Pity. This is a lesson in humility. Obedience. Discipline. Trust.” His voice softens at the last word and there’s a brief moment where his gaze shifts, full of adoration and love and awe. It doesn’t last long though; enough for you to smile back, and give a quick confirmation that ‘yes you’re ok and want to keep going’.

“Well? Nothing at all?” He sits back up, towering over you and you cannot help but avert your gaze underneath his stare. It pins you to the wall like a pretty butterfly in a shadowbox.

“Unh-unh…” he tuts disapprovingly and it’s all the warning before the end up his cane is tipping your chin back up, allowing you to properly look at him.

“None of that. So rude, absolutely no manners. You should be ashamed of yourself.” He stares down the length of his cane at you, eyes molten and burning as he speaks.

“I…” but there’s nothing you can really say for yourself now. He’s right. As he usually is. You are ashamed.

“No? Not a thing in that pretty little head of yours is there?” He removes his cane from your chin and lets it fall to the floor, hands folding on his lap as he ponders what to do with you.

Eyes rove over your twitching body, no doubt a puddle of wetness below you dripping from your aching core. It’s pathetic and humiliating and some sick fucked up part of you relishes in it. He knows it too, head tilting as he looks down.

“Oh, poor thing. You’re just drenched aren’t you?” the mockery in his voice stirs a frustrated whimper out of you, pulls it from your chest like one would pull a hook from the stomach of fish who’d swallowed it. Bloody and violent and unable to do a damn thing about it.

“Such a pretty sound.” It’s not to you, just musing to himself. You whine again, roll your hips as you stare up at him, hoping he’ll take pity on you. Touch you.

“Viktor…you’re being cruel…” your voice is fucked out and ragged, despite the lack of stimulation. He’s brought you this close with barely anything but his voice and a few lengths of rope. A feat, really. He’ll brag about it for the rest of your life.

“Am I? Or are you just not prepared to accept that your actions have consequences?”

“I just wanna touch you…” you crane your neck up at him, staying rooted to your spot but reaching. He is a planet and you a mere comet pulled into his gravitational field, circling.

He thinks for a moment, you can see the gears working in his head.

“You want to cum?” No one, nor any amount of liquor could get you to admit how earnestly you nodded your head at his words, how desperately. With a quick move you weren’t expecting, he bends forward in his seat and wraps a pale hand around your throat. The sensation is near overwhelming as he hasn’t touched you in an hour, fingers now digging into the delicate column holding up your head.

“I think…” he tilts your head this way and that, ever the scientist, taking in every observation, every bead of sweat, every tremble, “…I have a compromise that will suffice.”

With a bit of a gentler hand, he pulls you forwards by your neck, his own rolling chair moving to meet you as you shuffle forward. He pulls you closer, closer, until his knee is flush with your sternum, and you’re situated directly over his shoe.

Fear washes over you, curls its fingers into your hair, your spine, your stomach.

“You want to cum so bad?” He jerks up his foot at the end of his sentence, bumping it against your clit in a way that has you nearly doubling over and letting out a strangled yelp.

“Go ahead, sweet thing.” Your neck is still in his grip, so you know he can feel the way your pulse races forward like an engine.

“B-but-“ a protest forms in your mouth but it’s squeezed out of you as his hand tightens.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not making the decisions around here. And that wasn’t a request. Do it.” His tone is icy and piercing and it scares you in a way that urges you forward, letting the humiliation continue to worm its way into your synapses.

He lets go, a little roughly, and straightens his back, looking down at you as if you were an amusing pet.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shut your eyes briefly and take a deep breath, pushing it out rather forcefully.

The first roll of your hips is torturous. It’s friction you haven’t had in hours, so sensitive and swollen that the leather and lace send fireworks through you.

But it’s something, and you’ve been so patient, so agonizingly horny that you’ll take anything. And he knows that.

And the motherfucker is laughing.

“Oh…wow…I didn’t think you’d actually do it. Just so eager to please and be pleased aren’t you?” A deceptively gentle hand caresses your cheek and you lean into it instinctively, the sweetness juxtaposed to his cruel treatment making your head spin a bit.

“What base creatures we humans are. Willing to throw pride and dignity aside all for a biological need to fuck each other like rabbits. All for the pleasure of climax. Slaves to our hormones; all the blood being sent to your swollen cunt, none left for your brain.” The last bit is a coo, a mocking pity that weighs heavy on your sensation addled mind. His hand on your cheek is a cool balm on your feverish skin, tracing your cheekbone in reverence as the words he spits tear at you.

You move faster, chasing the high that is slowly but surely building in the lowest part of your stomach. It’s a dull burn that exponentially increases in intensity and heat. Every word he says is a stoke to the catching blaze.

A low rumble of appreciation stirs from Viktor’s chest, and the pride that swells in you as you look up at his appraising gaze pushes much of the embarrassment aside. The joy of approval, the delicious praise that a mere look can bestow; you need it like you’ve never needed anything before.

“Oh you are splendid, sweet thing. Such a good girl, so eager to please.” His hand drifts to your open mouth, fingers dancing along the pad of your lip. With no other instruction, you lean forward and take two of his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digits in such a lewd manner that the workers of the brothels would blush.

There’s a small intake of breath from your Viktor, a brief slip of composure as he stares at you in awe. His eyes sparkle with want and need and adoration.

“You…are perfect, so wonderful for me.” His other hand cradles your head as his fingers push in deeper, pressing down on your tongue slightly. You double your efforts at his sweet words, spurred on with renewed vigor. For me. Yes. For him, always for him, his, his, his, his.

“Oh you liked that did you? You like when I tell you how good you’re doing for me? How beautiful you look there on your knees, fingers in your mouth, truly you put fine art to shame. You were made for this, perfect, so perfect.” He muses, and the heat in your core grows hotter with every breath he takes to speak. Your poor hips are stuttering, so desperately close to cumming all over his pristine leather shoes. Moans spill forth around his fingers as you lose your grip on sanity, oh but what a sweet descent into madness it is.

“Go on. Go on darling, cum. That’s it, make a mess of yourself, that’s it, good girl, oh…” he marvels at you as you contract into him, the force of your orgasm pulling a strangled scream from your lungs. It’s wave after wave of white hot ecstasy, and your hips undulate a few more times as you ride it out, milking it for every last drop. His hand retracts from your mouth and he holds you, cupping your face in his hands.

“Wonderful darling, you did wonderful, absolutely perfect. So good, so good for me.” Fingers card through your hair, hands guiding your head to rest on his knee. You’re grateful for the support, it’s getting awful hard to keep your head up. The thigh of his good leg is sturdy and strong from baring the brunt of his weight. It’s grounding beneath you.

Slowly but surely, your breathing evens out, his hands petting your hair reverentially, holding you as you come down from your high. You stay like that for a while, until your knees start to hurt and your wrists ache, causing you to whimper at the newly forming pain.

“Are you alright lásko? Can I move you?” He whispers, hands never stopping his movements. You nod against his leg, weak but sure.

“M’good. Just go slow.” Your voice is hoarse and crackly from exhaustion. He bends down, kisses your head, and picks it up off of his thigh. With a twist, he adjust his chair so it’s a bit lower to the ground, closer to you. He reaches around, kissing your shoulder as he does so, and unties the ropes around your wrists and ankles. They fall away, and your arms instinctively reach for him.

“Soon, miláčku. Can you stand?”

“Mhm.” He grips your hands, helping you to your feet, and you’re alright for the most part, just a bit shaky. Viktor reaches for his cane, stands, and leads you by the hand to the couch in the corner of the lab. The leather is cool against your skin as he situates you in the cushions.

“I’ll be right back, just getting you water. Wrap the blanket around you alright?” You nod, his voice your tether to reality. In mere moments he’s back with water in hand, and not long after he’s sitting next to you, pressing you into his good side, arm an anchor over your shoulders. You curl instinctively into him, clutching the blanket around yourself.

“Are you sure you’re ok, sweet thing?”

“I’m sure Viktor.” Your voice has returned to you, as has most of your facilities. The weight of Viktor against you helps immensely.

“Wow.”

“Wow indeed.” He knocks his head against yours, and you laugh, snuggling further into him.

“I can’t say I didn’t know you had it in you, because you’re the most in control person I’ve ever met, but holy shit Vik.” The smell of his cologne and shampoo washes over you as you nestle closer into his neck, so ineffably him.

His cheek is pressed to the top of your head as he says , “I hope that is a positive ‘holy shit’.”

“Oh certainly.” You sit up slightly to look him in the eyes, “Vik. That was amazing. I…you were fantastic. It was everything I could’ve wanted.” A dopey smile spreads across your face and you can see the blush forming on his cheeks, the pride swelling in his chest.

“Thank you for trusting me with you.”

“Vik I trust you with my life.” You kiss his cheek, and he chuckles, a pretty sound that you wish you’d hear more often. But as the months go by, it’s starting to become a bit more familiar.

“And I trust you with mine.”

“Yeah but I just use that leverage to get you to bed at night so you don’t die of sleep deprivation.” He snorts as he pulls you in closer to him.

“Isn’t it common practice for someone in your position to nap after a scene?”

You laugh, but acquiesce and snuggle into him further, “you’re just deflecting, one day I’ll fix your sleep schedule.” But your eyes are already closing and his hands are playing with your hair.

“Sure, lásko. Sleep well. I love you.”

You smile, though you’re already halfway to sleep, “love you too.”

[hitomisuzuya]

hello dear suzu, hope your day’s going well.

I wanted to ask for a Scara x reader, but the reader is obsessed with Scara’s hands and always staring at them.. thinking he didn’t notice. But he actually did and wants to ‘reward’ us after a bad, long day of work.

I hope it’s clear, and I’m sorry if it’s not..!🫰

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. fingering. fingersucking. squirting. smutty appreciation for scara's gorgeous fingers. soft!dom scara.

scara's fingers are beautiful. and i am weak for them. he is ambidextrous, and it doesn't which hand he uses cause you are always guaranteed to-ahem😳

today sucks. no scratch that shit, this whole week has been bad for you. even right now, right this second, you feel like you are failing at something. sighing, you put your elbow on scaramouche's on your knee and rest your chin in your palm.

your eyes drift to his fingers, and wonder not for the first time if scaramouche knows how beautiful his fingers are. the elegant bend, the precision with which he moves them, the beautiful length. he is only doing something as simple as writing and still you are captivated by them.

you definitely couldn't fail admiring his fingers.

from his place on the bed, scaramouche can more than tell how stressed you are. you have been quiet nearly the whole day. you look tired, and you need to sleep. he could practically feel you staring longingly at his fingers. "hm?" he hums, glancing up from his paper.

you look a little forlorn for a second. of course you didn't think he ever notices how often you admire his hands. you knew sometimes things like this were hit or miss with him. "i was just wondering if you knew how beautiful your hands are? your fingers in particular?" you reply, curling a lock of hair around your finger as you look away shyly.

his fingers sure would make you feel better. this much you knew. his hands are capable of doing so so much.

scaramouche has to admit, he felt his ego stretch (more than) a little. "i know," pure egoism talking, "you have this habit of eye fucking them any chance you get. it amuses me," he smirks seeing the blush on your cheeks suddenly darken.

"i..i didn't think you noticed," you reply, drawn to looking at his fingers again as he twirls his pen between them. you swear he is teasing you because your mouth practically waters.

he waited for the question he could practically see forming on your lips. "can i suck on them? just for a little while?" your heart flutters in anticipation watching him put down his pen.

"here," he offers you his fingers, grazing his thumb over your lower lip. he may make you beg often, but he is always going to give his precious exactly what you need.

"thank you, this week has been really awful," there is nothing but utter sincerity in your tone. scaramouche sighed as his cock pulsed. fuck if it didn't turn him on knowing something so lewd as sucking on his fingers would make you feel better.

he shivers as your tongue licks across his thumb. "open," he commands, taping his index finger on your lips. you open your mouth, oh so eager to please him.

"mmm," you moan softly as his finger is pushed into your mouth. you glide and swirl your tongue, immediately sucking in appreciation as he pumps his index finger slowly in and out of your mouth. your pussy clenches feeling him explore your mouth, pressing his finger down on your tongue.

you moan again. it is erotically exhilarating for you. how much control he has over whether or not he makes you gag. your tongue tingles at the thought. and as if he could read your mind, he did exactly that.

"open again," the gentle press on your tongue makes you gag and open your mouth for his middle finger. you muffle a moan on his fingers, flattening your tongue on them. drool pools from one corner of your mouth as you suck, your hand stroking his wrist in appreciation.

scaramouche always watches you with complete fascination when you suck on his fingers. he never thought someone could get so easily aroused from just merely choking a little on his fingers. he slowly pumps them in and out of your mouth, his cock pulsing from the feeling of your warm mouth sucking in worship.

"take off your clothes and lie down," he pushes his fingers into your throat, smirking seeing your eyes water as you happily gag, going back to sucking without missing a beat. "gives me better access to your body."

your tongue lingers on scaramouche's fingers as he takes from out your mouth. a string of saliva connects your tongue to them, and you marvel at how beautiful they look shiny with your saliva. more than feeling the absence of his fingers in your mouth, you hastily remove your clothes.

he licks his lips seeing the submissive way you put your arms above your head, like you are offering your entire body to him. moving next to you, scaramouche trails his fingers featherlight over your throat. your body practically purrs inside as he grazes them down to your chest.

you move your chest into his hand, a sigh that bled into moan met his ears as he circles each of your nipples. "so responsive," he approves, pinching your nipples in reward.

an sharp jolt of pleasure zapping straight to your clit. your nipples harden, sensitive under the pads of his skilled fingers. your pussy throbs, your walls clenching around nothing as he teases and pinches your nipples. he knows your body and can play it like an instrument.

"i can see the tense desperation in your whole body," you gasp in pleasure as scaramouche delivers one final pinch to your nipples before moving down to your drooling cunt. "it looks very becoming on you. my needy little doll."

your cheeks flush hearing such sweet praise. your pussy soaks so well on his fingers as he dips them between your folds. your hole clenches around the tip as he circles it, teasing as he traces the shape of your pussy.

"keep your legs spread," he commands shakily, wanting a good view of your creamy cunt sucking his fingers in. you nod, moaning as he pushes his index finger inside you. your hips rock up to meet his hand, feeling his finger graze across every sensitive nerve inside you before he slowly bullies your sweet spot.

it wasn't long before you are falling apart in the delicious pleasure only a single finger was providing you. your cunt clenches, begging him for a second finger. "more. more please," you whimper, unable to stand the throbbing in your clit anymore. your eyes look just as desperate as your pussy feels.

scaramouche chuckles at your sweet plea, his cock aching in the confines on his shorts. he always gets hard when you beg. your back arches off the bed as he abruptly thrusts a second finger inside you, scissoring your walls apart.

with his free hand, he sets to work rubbing your clit. a string of louder moans tears from you as his wags his fingers over the swollen, throbbing nub. your hips buck up to grind your clit on them. "that's a good girl, fuck yourself on my fingers," watching you enjoy yourself so thoroughly is exhilarating to him.

you get wetter with every pump and scissor, pleasure humming through you and consuming you as he expertly built up your orgasm. all the stress melts away a little more every time he kisses your sweet spot, his fingers relentless on your clit.

a certain look flashes through your eyes then. one scaramouche knows very well. with how close you are to cumming, you realize then that you are going squirt all over his fingers. "how cute," he taunts, increasing his pace. he only gets harder knowing he is capable of this.

your orgasm came fast and sudden, your pussy gushing on his fingers. you are dazed and drooling, your body trembling as you cum hard in a fit of uncontrollable moans. "let's see if you got another one in you, shall we?" his smirk more than said he wasn't entirely finished with you yet. spoiling you is a kink for him, after all.

[chocochiffonnn]

Cookies & Promises

➸ Pairing: Idol BF! Nishimura Riki x Reader

➸ Word Count: 1.5k words

➸ Synopsis: Baking and a clingy boyfriend who rarely got to see you— combining the two creates a chaos, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

➸ Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, some curse words, riki is sososososo clingy here, riki and niki used interchangeably. enjoy reading guys!

➸ Songs to play as you listen!

Junny - Promise

Johnny Stimson - Casual

New West - Lovely

Taylor Swift - Say Don't Go

Enhypen - XO

●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●●・○・●・○・●

Nishimura Riki always found a way to touch you.

It hardly mattered when the occasion was odd, or the crowd was rowdy and bustling. Subtly, Niki just somehow always found a way to come to contact with your skin.

Perhaps it is because his love language revolves around it Though he hates the idea of over the top physical affection in public, he truly does revel and thrive in the subject once the two of you are alone.

Like this very moment right now.

A particular Saturday night, after the two of you had gone for early dinner, you decided make some cookies as a dessert. Riki had gone over to your house, as he'd often do when he wasn't out doing idol business, practicing, or training.

Which is, in all honesty— is rare.

Thus, the reason for him lazing around your house all day and sharing nothing but movies, games, food, and laughter the last couple of hours. This particular night, however, was the first time you got to see each other again after a week of him being away.

And following this event, you supposed you wouldn't see him again for as long as a month or so as they are to be in tour.

It explains the reason why as you prepped the ingredients needed for the cookies and scurried around the kitchen, Niki had you in a back hug the entire time.

It didn't help the fact that his head was on your shoulder, too. Peppering soft and gentle kisses around your nape, neck, collarbone, and cheeks, occasionally.

"Riki, baby, can you let go for a bit? It's hard baking these cookies." You reason, as you set a carton of milk atop the table. Niki only hums, pulling you closer to his chest.

"Why?" He mumbles, low and gentle against your ear.

"What do you mean, why? You're like a clingy little koala! I might not get anything done at this rate!" Truth be told, you did love it when Niki was needy like this, acting like such a baby when in front of the cameras, he was but a "tough boy".

"I can help you with that..." Niki suggests, swaying the two of you side to side. You giggled, "Yes, you will! If only you let go of me and—"

All of a sudden, Niki turns you around and envelops you with his arms once more. It comfortably tightened around your neck, and you came to catch a whiff of his perfume you can recognize miles away.

"Baby, why do you want me to let go so bad? Do you not miss me?"

Niki says, as if you were dismissing him. His tone was rather teasing, "W-what? Of course I do!"

"Then it's okay if I cling to you while you bake?"

With a slight groan, you reluctantly agreed to his antics and turn around. Baking cookies had always been a simple task, which is bound to get tedious now as a Nishimura Riki now clings to you like a little koala bear.

Your ingredients were all complete and arranged, you grabbed a bowl to put the dry ingredients first, and a separate ones for the wet ingredients. All the while, Niki would do just about anything and everything to get you to pay attention to him.

Poking your cheek repeatedly, "Hey! Shh. Stop that." You turn to look at him, to which he only grins.

Then, taking one of the ingredients, "Where's the egg?"

Niki taps you in the shoulder, turns around, and with full confidence— he just... Acts like he's pooping, as mysteriously, and egg comes out of his hands. "Look, I lay eggs now."

He must think he must be so funny because right after, he started stomping his feet, snickering, and laughing so hard over his own joke.

You took the egg from him with a laugh in sake of entertaining him, and cracking the egg into the bowl.

Then, he'd make silly faces as you kneaded the dough.

"Imagine if the dough had a face, this is what it would be making right now."

Niki goes in front of you over the kitchen table, making silly little faces every time your hands came to contact with the cookie dough. He'd obnoxiously widen his eyes, puff his nose and ears, stick his tongue out.

One of his goofy faces made you cringe and laugh loudly, to which Niki smiled, "Heck yeah!"

Then, once you put the cookie dough in the oven, he'd stand in front of it and randomly start breakdancing in the middle of nowhere, pulling out his moves which would normally attract you. Now, it just made you shit in laughter.

"What are you doing?" You say, crossing your arms as Niki b-boyed. "I'm dancing for you, obviously!" He pants, doing flips and stumbling right after.

Thud.

"Oh my gosh! Are you okay?" You quickly come over to him, kneeling in front of his fallen figure, inspecting his leg which had fallen down. Niki didn't speak for a few seconds until, all of a sudden, he tackled you down the ground.

In a very tight, and heavy bear hug.

Hell, this boy put all his strength and weight upon you, encaging you with his legs, and keeping you impossibly close. You could hardly breath!

"Riki! Let me go!" You squirm under his hold, Riki only snorts, "I tricked you there baby! Ha! Take this!"

Riki suddenly started tickling you, and you felt like a worm under his hold. You were thrashing uncontrollably, laughing so immensely as he tickled, and tickled, and tickled.

'S-stop! Nooo!" You manage to mutter in between laughter, and he soon stops, opting to embrace you in the cold, hard apartment floor. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He says, rolling your bodies around like sausages.

Gosh. At times, it hardly felt like you were taking care of a boyfriend, but rather, it felt like you had a child! Nishimura Riki is ridiculously mischievous and childish that sometimes, it felt like you're going to go insane!

The oven timer ticks, and Niki finally lets you out of his grasp. You take the cookies out of the oven, let them to cool as you grabbed some of the ice cream from the freezer.

Niki merely observes as you prepared him a bowl of cookies and vanilla ice cream, smiling when you hand him the bowl. You grabbed your own, and the two of you head back to the couch to laze around for the rest of the night and enjoy the rest of the night with him by your side.

"You baked these cookies so good, damn." Niki says as the two of you faced each other at the couch, eating away the ice cream and cookies combination. You smile and mumble a small thank you, opting to not tease him for annoying you so much as the cookies did taste good.

Once the two of you were finished, you settled your bowls at the coffee table and heaved a sigh, "I won't be seeing you tomorrow anymore, yeah?" you randomly brought up out of the blue, a wave of reality washing over you.

It didn't really matter where Niki had gone to, even if it's a country away, miles away, even just a neighborhood away. At the end of the day, you always missed your annoying little boyfriend terribly.

Niki sensed your sudden change of mood, pulling you closer and placing you atop his lap. He wraps both of your arms around his neck as you lazily hunched over and embraced him.

Niki pats your back in comfort, "I'm still seeing you in the morning, baby, don't worry." He assures, though, you can sense by the tone of his voice that he too, is disappointed.

"I'll miss you."

"I'l miss you too, baby."

You pull back from his embrace, holding his face within your hands. You lovingly caressed it, memorizing every detail and tracing it as if it was his last day on earth. Maybe it is to be, for a month or so, at least.

Niki only hums into your touch, closing his eyes and warming into your feather fingers further. His long fingers roamed around your back, caressing it, too.

"It won't take long, I promise..." He mumbles, opening his eyes and holding one of your hands. You only nodded.

You knew Niki found enjoyment in what he was doing. Performing in front of big crowds, making his name known along with his hyungs— it's all really a matter of accepting the fact that your very clingy boyfriend just had to be away for so long.

But then again, Niki always keeps his promise. Even if it is to be a year away, a decade away, even a millennia, you knew that Nishimura Riki always holds true to what he says.

And you know that by the end of each day, he'll always come back home to you, over shared ice-creams and cookies, over shared laughters and assurance.

And most of all, over a shared lifetime with his one and only girlfriend.

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ END *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

[bybobbysbeard]

Never Leavin' Blue

Day 1 for @bucktommyfluffebruary: non-sexual intimacy. read on ao3

“Can I try?”

Tommy looks up at the sound of Evan’s nervous question. His boyfriend is standing in the doorway of the living room, looming really; like he’s afraid to interrupt. He’s staring intently at the little glass bottle of OPI Never Leavin’ Blue nail polish in Tommy’s hands. 

He’s sitting on the floor, cross-legged, in front of the coffee table. He’s not sure how long Evan’s been standing there; Tommy knows he can get hyperfocused with a fiddly little task like this. Earlier, Evan was having a post-shift nap in Tommy’s bed, but he’s obviously had enough time to shower and change before tracking down his distracted boyfriend. 

Evan has seen him do this a couple of times, but he’s never asked to be involved before. Tommy’s got all his supplies laid out: paper towels to protect his shitty coffee table, a few q-tips, remover, the polish he’s already applied to a few fingers on his left hand, and a separate top coat.

Evan shifts, and Tommy realizes he hasn’t answered him.

“Sorry, I didn’t—”

“If you want to—”

They both stop when they realize they’re speaking over each other. Tommy laughs when Evan scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Evan, of course you can try. I’ve got a pile of colours under the sink in the ensuite. Take your pick.”

“Um, actually. I-I was hoping I could try painting your nails. Not my own.”

"Oh. Oh! Sure, yeah, baby, anything you want.” 

Evan melts at his words. 

Tommy pats the area rug next to him and watches with a bemused smile as Evan bounds over. He’s all golden-retriever energy now, his earlier shyness completely forgotten. Tommy caps the polish, giving it a shake while Evan gets situated, clumsy in his excitement. He hands it over when his boyfriend is sitting beside him, echoing his pose, their knees touching. 

“Have you painted anybody’s nails before?”

“N-no, never. I don’t think I’ve ever painted anything other than walls and baseboards. Maybe a ceiling when I was doing construction.”

“Well, it’s a little different than that, but the premise is the same. This polish will take a few coats, so don’t worry if the first one is thin.”

Evan smiles at him, blue eyes catching in the sunlight coming in through the bay window. He twists off the cap, watches the polish run down the side of the brush and pool into a big drip. 

”You won’t need that much. Wipe some of it back into the bottle.” He keeps his voice low and even, notices a faint flush blooming on the apple of Evan’s cheek as he follows his direction. The bottle is set back down on the table and Evan reaches out for Tommy’s half-finished hand, angling the wet brush upright. Calloused fingers wrap around his own, separating out his index finger. Evan’s hand is so warm. 

Tommy’s never had anyone offer to do this. 

The first brush of paint starts a little too low, leaving an unpainted strip close to the cuticle. Evan frowns, adjusting his grip. Tommy wraps his free fingers around Evan’s hand gently, wary of his tacky nails. Another brushstroke is laid down. Evan’s hands are steady. He's leaning in, concentrating, a hint of pink tongue poking out when he licks his lips. This close, Tommy could count his eyelashes. 

It’s quiet in the house, just the sound of their breathing and the ticking of his wall clock. Tommy breathes in the smell of wet nail polish and Evan‘s shampoo. His index finger is carefully released and Evan starts on his thumb. Tommy shifts carefully, keeping his hand motionless in Evan’s grasp, but stretching a leg out under the table. He feels the carpet under his butt, the couch at his back, the heat of Evan’s body next to him. 

The last stroke is too heavy, too close to the edge of his nail bed. Cool blue spills over his skin. 

Evan huffs, settling the brush back in the bottle and picking up a q-tip. “Sorry. I guess I need to practice.”

Tommy smiles at him. “You’re welcome to keep trying. I’m not going anywhere.”

[meazalykov]

lynn takes a fall

lynn wilms x reader series

last chapter - next chapter

chapter two

the air fills with excitement as you sit on the bench, bouncing your knee nervously. 

it’s been two weeks since you joined wolfsburg, and everything has been going better than you expected. the girls welcomed you almost immediately, especially sveindís, who’s practically become your shadow. 

you’re even starting to feel a connection with the rest of the team. alex has taken on a mentor role, guiding you even though you don’t share the same position, and lynn... well, lynn has become someone you can’t stop thinking about.

you glance at lynn now, watching her move effortlessly on the pitch. she’s sharp, and completely knows what she needs to do. it’s hard not to admire her, though you remind yourself for the hundredth time to keep those thoughts in check.

it’s your first game day with wolfsburg, and there’s no room for distractions.

for now, at least.

the match against essen starts off strong. wolfsburg dominates possession, pressing high and creating chances. from your spot on the bench, you cheer and watch intently, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

sveindís nudges your arm, grinning.

“relax, you’re definitely a cheerleader,” she whispers. 

“you’ll get your time.”

you nod but can’t shake the memories of arsenal games, sitting on the bench and wondering if you’d ever get more than a pity substitution. wolfsburg feels different, though. the coaches believe in you. 

still, the question lingers in your mind: do they see your full potential?

at halftime, wolfsburg leads 1-0, and you can sense the confidence in the team. the second half begins, and you settle back into your seat, letting yourself relax slightly. the game flows smoothly, until it doesn’t.

it happens quickly—too quickly. a hard tackle near the right sideline, and suddenly, lynn is down, clutching her ankle. the esnee player smacked into lynn which caused the dutch woman to fall awkwardly. your stomach drops as you lean forward, watching her grimace in pain. sveindís and fenna tense beside you, their small talk falling silent.

the medical team comes onto the pitch when lynn refuses to stand up on her own, and you can’t take your eyes off lynn. she is contorted in pain as she shakes her head, trying to put weight on her foot but failing. 

when the substitution board goes up and her number flashes, your heart skips a beat.

“y/n, it's your debut, come awn,” the coach calls out, gesturing for you.

you blink, stunned for a moment. 

“me?”

“yes, you. it was supposed to be later in the game, but i trust you. keep the pace on the right. do what you’ve been training for the last few weeks.”

your nerves spike, but you nod, standing quickly and pulling off your training top. sveindís gives you a quick pat on the back. 

“you’ve got this stargirl.”

you jog onto the pitch, the weight of the moment sinking in. your first appearance for wolfsburg. you glance back at the bench, catching sight of lynn being helped to a seat beside sveindís and fenna. 

you can’t dwell on it now. you’re here to do your job.

the game resumes, and you throw yourself into the action. the coach’s instructions echo in your mind: push up, go around if needed, create a strong attack or counterattack. when the ball comes to your feet, you don’t hesitate. 

you drive forward, weaving past two essen players with quick, decisive touches. 

your eyes scan the box, and there she is—alex, perfectly positioned. you whip the ball into the air, aiming for her head. it connects beautifully. alex rises above her defender and buries the ball into the back of the net. 

2-0.

the stadium erupts, and before you can process what just happened, alex is running toward you, arms wide.

“what the hell was that?!” she shouts, pulling you into a hug. you laugh, the adrenaline coursing through you.

“just doing my job!” you reply, though your heart feels like it might burst. your first touch in the wolfsburg jersey, and it’s an assist.

the rest of the team swarms you, offering high-fives, piggy back rides, and pats on the back. sveindís and fenna clap from the bench, grinning widely.

in the middle of them, lynn catches your eye. 

she smirks and gives you a thumbs-up, her expression filled with pride.

you can’t help but smile back, holding up your own thumb in response before turning your focus back to the game. the final minutes pass quickly, and when the whistle blows, wolfsburg secures the 2-0 win.

your teammates gather around you, celebrating the victory and your debut performance.

as you linger on the pitch, talking to jule, you see lynn walking toward you. jule notices too, and with a knowing smile, she excuses herself to join sveindís.

you saw jules smile, but did not think there was anything much to it. 

“hey,” lynn says, her voice warm despite the slight limp in her step.

“hey,” you reply, your eyes immediately dropping to her ankle. 

“how’s it feeling?”

she shrugs. 

“it’s fine. just a scare. nothing serious.”

you narrow your eyes. 

“are you sure? because it looked bad from where i was sitting.”

“i’m sure,” she says firmly, then grins. 

“besides, i got to watch you overshadow my performance.”

you laugh, shaking your head. 

“i wasn’t trying to show off.”

“really?” lynn raises an eyebrow, her tone teasing. 

“because it sure looked like you were.”

“well, maybe a little,” you admit, playing along. 

“but only because alex was in the perfect spot.”

lynn leans in slightly, her grin turning playful. 

“maybe you were showing off for me.”

your breath catches, and for a moment, you forget how to respond. the way her eyes hold yours makes it impossible to brush off the comment as just a joke. 

finally, you manage a weak laugh, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“if that’s what you want to believe,” you say, trying to keep your tone light.

she chuckles, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“i’ll take it.”

you clear your throat, shifting the conversation.

“so, are you going to be in training tomorrow? or are you taking it easy?”

“i’ll be there,” she says confidently. 

“just need to ice it tonight.”

“good,” you reply, feeling oddly relieved. 

“we’d miss you otherwise.”

“oh, would you?” she asks, her tone dipping into something almost flirtatious again.

you roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. 

“maybe.”

she laughs, the sound light and genuine. 

“well, don’t worry. i’m not going anywhere.”

as she walks back toward the locker room, you watch her for a moment longer than you probably should. 

your debut went better than you could’ve imagined, something you thought wouldn’t have happened. 

next part

[inflamedrosenkranz]

So... Jayvik and Caitvi. In the same way that Jayce and Caitlyn are like brother and sister, I can imagine V (Viktor) and Vi bonding over the fact that they're both from the Undercity, and becoming very close friends as a result.

Coming from the same place, they have socio-cultural codes and practices and a vision of the world—in short, a whole habitus—in common. In fact, they like to hang out together when living in Piltover is too much for them, among a bourgeois elite that remains for them an oppressor by whom they will never be truly accepted, and whose codes they will only assimilate and reproduce superficially, the barrier between the two worlds and the weight of history between the two peoples being too thick and heavy for them to be able to really cross it and become so deeply imbued with the Piltovian habitus that they fully acculturate to it. Not that they want to, either, because to integrate completely into the topside society that is the source of a suffering deeply and forever engraved in their flesh would be for them to deny and betray their deepest selves and origins as well as their loved ones remaining in the Undercity, if not their entire people.

Their passing, as class defectors, is thus only apparent. That said, Viktor being older and having lived longer than Vi in Piltover, but also having evolved in the upper echelons of its intellectual and, by extension via Jayce, political elite, I can see him giving Vi advice and sharing his knowledge of the Piltovian way of thinking and living, or correcting some of her character or behavioral traits to help her adapt better in the upper city, especially since as Caitlyn's companion, who is the daughter of one of the most important local houses, she is unfortunately forced to conform to certain standards. In return, I imagine Vi allows V to drop the mask of forced propriety and rediscover a certain whimsy and insolence proper to Zaun, where despite the daily struggles for survival, the inhabitants retain a freedom of thought, an outspokenness and an nonconformism proper to the rebellious spirit of youth and to the working-class camaraderie inherited from hard labor and trade union culture in the mines. For instance, I can see V starting to use swear words again now that he's mixing with Vi, words he'd forbidden himself to use from the moment he had stepped foot in Piltover (even Jayce has never heard a profanity come out of his mouth).

That's why I imagine them getting together on a regular basis to unburden their shoulders of this weight of transclasses and outsiders perpetually out of step in an alien society. At first, they would meet in the less upscale corners of Piltie, those closest to the entrance to the Lanes, putting the world to rights while enjoying drinks at café terraces, window-shopping or sitting in parks. Then they would agree to go back down into Zaun, to reconnect even more with their roots.

Eventually, they would also insist so much that Caitlyn and Jayce come with them, that the latter would eventually give in, despite the constraints it would represent for them, the bad memories they had of Zaun and the remnants of a misplaced condescension for the place and its people still holding sway over them. But out of love, and understanding the self-sacrifice their lovers would make every day to live at Piltie, they would agree to this little compromise, far from 50/50 of course, but aware of how much it all meant to Vi and V, who would then feel allowed to show them the culture of the place and their expertise on it, making Cait and Jayce fall even more in love with them at the sight of the extent and number of their hidden talents, sadly unsuited to Piltover.

In the Undercity, V and Vi would stay one step ahead of their lovers, acting as guardians in dark, seedy alleys, or as culinary guides in restaurants serving suspicious dishes, heartily mocking their cumbersome gas masks. And, when Cait or Jayce would be interested in an item on the market, the other two would show them the fierce art of haggling with salesmen trying to rip off two Pilties lost in a foreign, archaic world, a chaos preceding the apparent cosmos of the topside. While Cait wouldn't be too much surprised to see Vi acting in this way, because it wouldn't be the first time she'd come with her to Zaun, Jayce, for his part, would rediscover his Viktor in a new light. Viktor stuffing himself with dubious foods. Viktor bargaining relentlessly with unscrupulous merchants with a gall and a sassiness Jayce knew he had but had never witnessed before, or at least not to such an extent. Viktor speaking different dialects with representatives of Zaun's various ethnicities and races, with Vi also taking part in the conversation; or V and Vi speaking in Viktor's native dialect (I happen to have a headcanon explaining his accent...)—until then, indeed, he'd never heard Viktor speak a language other than the official one common to both cities with his exquisite accent.

But then he'd hear V swear for the first time and he'd blush; or he'd be moved to hear him introduce him to different places or customs, telling him about them with the self-assurance of someone who knows them from the inside, and for the first time he'd really understand how his man must have felt in his early days at Piltover. Hence, just for a day in Zaun, Jayce would accept to become the outsider instead of Viktor, and from the new prism of his reversed social position, he would feel pride, wonder and renewed love for V.

He'd also watch in awe as his man would hail or greet old acquaintances randomly in the crowd, or would be recognized and approached by shopkeepers who hadn't seen him in years and would therefore be happy to hear from him again. Those V's hitherto unknown aspects he would keep jealously sealed in his heart and cherish forever.

He would also rejoice in V's bond with Vi, them so dissimilar in appearance, happy with their friendship consolidating a little more each day, and with these parallel bonds established between him and Cait, and Viktor and Violet, and he would hope and pray that all this would last until the end.

He would also be delighted to see V finally becoming an integral part of a social group and feeling at ease, finally letting down his guard and abandoning his false shyness in the midst of Vi, Jinx, Ekko, Mylo, Claggor, Vander, Silco and Benzo, he who were once rejected by Zaunites his own age because of his disability. And all together, they would talk about things the Zaunites have in common, and Cait and Jayce would feel left out until Vi, V or the others would provide them with an explanation.

And all, they would watch Jayce out of the corner of their eyes, laughing and giggling at him swooning in front of his man, drinking in every word he would say and always seeming to restrain himself from falling on his neck to kiss him passionately in front of everyone.

But in short, I imagine Vi and V (along with Jinx and Ekko, sometimes) being kind of refuge for each other when their life in Piltover turns them upside down and even sometimes the understanding with their lovers due to their many differences isn't up to scratch and fights and conflicts are on the horizon. They both are friends and confidants, and they find the name of their duo rocks. What about Cai and Jay for the other two?

[ihanflwr]

YEA MY BOYFRIEND’S PRETTY COOL - nishimura riki (pt.2)

part 1 is here

IN WHERE; you try to make your ex, riki, jealous. it doesn't work out the best for you.

genre: a tinyyy bit angsty, fluff

warning: a little bit of cursing, suggestiveness, underage drinking.

not proofread! 🙆🏾‍♀️

it's 5:30 AM on a monday, and you can barely keep your eyes open. you lazily shift over to your vanity and rub your eyes.

you usually didn't wear makeup, but you decided to switch it up today. you look down at your uniform, realizing how wrinkly it is. you groan and just wear a hoodie to cover it up.

after finishing your makeup, you get out the house and walk to school. it was usually tradition to walk to school with winter, sunoo, and sometimes woonhak, but today you just needed some space.

that was until you heard a familiar, booming voice and a bunch of footsteps scurrying towards you. you stop in your tracks and sigh.

"noona!" woonhak calls out. you turn around and flash him a fake smile. he walks over with his other friends: myungjae, taesan, leehan, sungho, riwoo.

(more under cut)

"i haven't seen you in forever!" he catches up to you and puts a hand around your shoulder, practically suffocating you.

"you just saw me yesterday," you squeak, pushing him away to catch your breath.

"why'd you end the party so abruptly like that?" riwoo asks, a look of faux dissapointment on his face.

"i was just.. overwhelmed," you mumble. "nothing too serious."

"y/n, we all know you and riki broke up. quit the act," taesan blurts out. your eyes widen. myungjae hits taesan on the back.

"we agreed not to talk about that!" he whisper shouts.

"it's okay, i dont mind," you lie. you actually did mind a lot. why was riki going around telling everyone your business? "who told you we broke up?"

"if you're asking that, you obviously mind," sungho mumbles.

"riki told us," leehan confesses. you nod. of course.

"okay, good to know," you say, speeding up so you can get to school quicker. woonhak calls after you once again but you ignore him, your sole focus on getting to school.

riki was on the school's swim team for some reason, so they were always the first ones at school to practice. he used to always complain to you and say how much he wanted to quit, but his parents never let him.

after a lot of walking, you finally make it to the school's indoor swimming pool. you never realized how hot the guys on the swim team were. they all had somewhat toned bodies, making you want to faint right then and there.

but no, you had a mission to complete.

usually, a group of 3 girls or so would sit on the bleachers and just watch the swim team practice just so they could ogle over their muscles. you look over at the girls and spot a familiar face.

rei.

has ni-ki really moved on that quickly? you bite your lip angrily. however, that's not the point. you approach the team captain, anton, and tap him on the shoulder.

"what's up?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. it kinda annoyed you how quiet he was sometimes.

(its js for the plot i love him i swear😭)

"do you think i could talk to riki real quick?" you ask and he stares at you hesitantly.

"we're kinda in the middle of something right now.." he scratches the back of his neck.

"please. its an emergency."

"uhm--"

"don't make me beg. i just need to talk to him for like two seconds." you urge, holding up two fingers. he sighs and almost rolls his eyes, blowing his whistle.

"riki, y/n needs to talk to you." anton then turns to look at you. "if he's gone for too long, my coach will kill me. make it quick."

you nod and look over at ni-ki who dries himself off with a towel and slips on a t-shirt. he walks over to you, his hair still wet. you must admit, he looks so good right now. he gestures at a door and you guys walk out. he immediately lets out a yelp at the cold air.

he crosses his arms in an attempt to warm himself up. "hey."

"hi.." you say awkwardly. he doesn't make eye contact with you. honestly, you lowkey forgot what you even wanted to talk about, so you just start stalling.

"have you already moved on?" you ask. riki raises an eyebrow and glares at you. he shakes he head.

"no, but why do you care?" he's shivering slightly.

"i don't," here you go with the lying again.

"why'd you block me?" he asks abruptly.

"i thought it would be the best if i didn't talk to you," you say quietly.

"you're talking to me right now," he pokes his cheek with his tongue.

"do you like rei?" you ask, and you immediately regret it. he groans.

"you're seriously still going on about this?" he hated how stubborn you were.

"is she the reason we broke up?" you're practically interrogating him at this point.

"no, we broke up because you act like this," he snaps. you finally meet his eyes. now there's just an awkward silence that washes on you two.

anton pops his head outside and is also visibly uncomfortable from how cold it is.

"hurry up before i get scolded by my coach," he warns. without further notice, ni-ki walks back inside without even saying a word. anton looks at you worriedly but doesn't question it, heading back inside as well.

you gulp and slowly turn around, heading to the main campus. you just embarassed yourself even more.

5th period

your head is resting on your arms as you look out the window. your teacher is yapping about ancient China, and his voice is annoyingly monotone.

the way the trees sway in the wind is so peaceful, you could fall asleep. your eyes slowly start to shut. your seatmate, riki, nudges you but you ignore it.

"y/n, wanna tell me what dynasty started foot binding?" your teacher demands. riki whispers the answer in your ear.

"tang," you mumble without confidence, but suprisingly, you were correct. your teacher sighs.

"good job, but make sure you're paying attention," he mumbles. you nod. he goes back to yapping and you look over at riki. you want to thank him but remember you're supposed to be mad at him right now, so you put your focus back to the front of the room.

after what feels like hours, the bell finally rings, dismissing everyone to go to lunch. everyone scurries out of their desks and basically sprints over to the cafeteria. you search the classroom for winter and she grins, interlocking fingers with you.

“he still has feelings for you,” she says with a cheeky smirk. you tilt your head at her and you two begin walking to the cafeteria.

“why, because he gave me the answer..?” you raise an eyebrow.

“no, he was staring so hard at you while you were taking a nap!” she squeals. you roll your eyes.

“did you forget the plan? i need to make him jealous first before i consider other factors.”

“you’re actually about to listen to sunoo?” her eyes widen. “shit, okay then.”

at lunch, you, winter, woonhak and his friends sat around the table eating and gossiping. sunoo was sitting with riki and his friends.

“don’t you think you’re being too harsh?” sungho asks.

“no, she’s being reasonable,” taesan retorts. “if i were her, i would do worse.”

“guys, i’m over it now. chill.” you say, taking a bite out of your beef onigiri. everyone at the table side eyes you. “what?”

“you are NOT over him.” winter snorts.

“shut up,” you gently smack her. “is that 7-11 down the street still hiring?” winter looks at you and smirks.

“uh yeah, why?” riwoo asks. winter turns to riwoo and grins.

“she’s trying to make riki jealous, and apparently a lot of hot guys work at the 7-11.” says winter.

“i could’ve said that myself but okay,” you mumble.

“oh, i work there,” leehan says casually, “just fake date me.” you almost choke on your food. you wipe some sauce off your lips and stare at leehan.

“huh?”

“you don’t have to if you don’t want to, obviously,” he chuckles nervously.

“you’re a bit too eager,” myungjae teases, causing him to get flicked on the forehead by leehan.

“n-no, i’ll do it!” jesus christ, why were you stuttering so hard. leehan does that charming smile and nods.

“i’ll put in a good word for you,” he says.

“thanks..” you awkwardly look back down at your food. everyone at the table exchanges glances with each other.

“anyways!” woonhak exclaims. “who’s excited for our field trip to the beach?!” he starts to clap.

“woonhaks, that’s in two months,” taesan replies.

“am i not allowed to be excited?” woonhak shouts. you have to plug your ears from how loud he is.

“no, you’re not.” taesan says.

“y’all are so mean to my son,” myungjae whines, hugging woonhak.

“exactly!” woonhak pouts. you were able to drown out all the bickering and conversations with just your thoughts. you can’t stop thinking about leehan. you shake your head. you can’t fall for one of your best friends. plus, you never liked him before, why are you crushing on him all the sudden? winter notices you tweaking out and chuckles.

“you good?” she pats your back. you nod and go back to silently munching on your lunch.

after school

thanks to the good word leehan put in for you, you were able to immediately start working.

the whole day, you were so sleepy. you groggily scan the customer's items, your eyes threatning to shut. leehan comes behind you and pats your back.

"i can take over for now, hm?" he suggests, rubbing your back. he was alresdy taking this fake dating thing so seriously.

just as you were about to agree, the bell chimes, meaning a customer walked in the store. you look over and see RIKI AND REI. you rub your temples.

"is everything okay?" he asks, concerned.

"i can handle it for now. just, stay here with me." you say, looking up at him. he nods, still a bit confused.

you finish scanning the customer's items and you watch closely as riki and rei choose snacks for each other, gigling. you narrow your eyes.

"so that's why you wanted to me stay here?" leehan asks and chuckles. you nod.

after a while, they finally approach the cash register and place their stuff. just as rei is ahout to pull out her wallet, ni-ki already does it.

"stop that, i can pay for myself," rei pouts and hands you her card. riki shakes his head and also hands you his card.

"i'll pay, its fine."

"noo! its the least i can doo~" she whines.

"don't worry about it, you can pay me ba--"

"shut the fuck up and make up your mind already!" you snap. their eyes widen, and the air is thick. leehan gently pushes you away and bows.

"sorry about that," he laughs nervously, taking ni-ki's card and handing rei's card back to her.

after ringing them up and they leave the store, leehan turns to you.

"are you planning on already getting yourself fired?" he asks calmly. how was he being so gentle with you after you just caused a scene?

"i'm sorry.." you look down. he can tell you're starting to get upset and he gets closer to you. he hugs you, patting your head.

"it's okay, the shift is almost over," he reassures you. you two didn't even realize woonhak snickering and snapping pictures of you guys. leehan notices him and he gasps.

"when did you get here?" you quickly escape from leehan's grasp, standing as far away from him as you can.

"how did you guys not see me?" he laughs obnoxiously. you grab a random item and throw it him, causing him to let out an "ouch!".

"if you're not gonna buy anything, get out," leehan says trying to sound stern, but he can't hold back his smile.

"will y'all give me a discount?" he asks, rubbing his hands together.

"hell nah, get out." you say, your face still burning up.

"okay, okay.." he leaves the store. you and leehan lock eyes and burst out laughing.

after taking the bus home, you lay down on your bed (you changed into fresh pjs dw) and immediately text leehan.

fishdaddy: good job at work today!

y/n: i actually did horrible but thx anyways☹️🩷

fishdaddy: noo its great for your first time!

fishdaddy: you'll get better with more practice

y/n: why thank you

fishdaddy: np

fishdaddy: wanna walk with me and my friends to school tmrw?

y/n: sure i'll check in with winter

fishdaddy: okay!

you start to kick your feet in excitement before remembering it's all fake. you sigh and text winter.

y/n: is it okay if i walk with leehan and in his friendd in the morning

wifey: ofc! i can walk with giselle

y/n: okay great!!

wifey: have fun ;)

wifey: actually dont have TOO much fun 😶

y/n: 😨

~ part 3 will arive shortly ~

[mllemaenad]

It's fascinating that the people who have most consistently and successfully established a connection to the titans are the Grey Wardens.

I'm not trying to oversell here: what they're doing has a lot of downsides. But while there are rare incidents of a dwarf truly connecting to a titan across the Dragon Age stories ... only the Grey Wardens have found a way to do it that's even moderately predictable. Sure, the Joining might kill you. But if it doesn't – congratulations, you're linked up to the Song of the titans.

Of course, they're connecting to the corrupted dreams of the titans: the infamous blight. And the more obvious differences in that connection obviously stem from that: the infertility, the eventual corruption of their bodies, the call of the Song that can overwhelm their minds.

But it's interesting what else is going on with them. I've never seen a Grey Warden dwarf do magic, the way Valta or Harding can. But I do wonder if that's an absolute rule, or just a side effect of the way they're connected.

It does seem to reconnect dwarves to their dreams. The archdemon dreams are the most obvious example, but there's also Oghren's account of a normal dream in Awakening. I recognise that that anecdote is meant to be funny but a) it still happens and b) there's now a lot of material from Harding that could also be described as "funny stories about dreams", and we aren't meant to disbelieve her.

So why no (obvious) magic?

Well, the thing about the Joining is that it is at least an attempt to connect to the blight safely.

The Joining requires darkspawn blood. Recruits are typically sent out under the watch of an older Warden to slay darkspawn and collect the blood. This is a test to see if the recruit has the courage and ability to fight darkspawn. Once the blood is collected, the Wardens add a single drop of Archdemon blood and use magic to make it at least remotely safe to consume. Archdemon blood is among the rarest substances in all Thedas, and it makes the Joining all the more exclusive a ritual. Older Wardens carry a small amount with them at all times. – The World of Thedas Volume 1

The exact details of how the blood is prepared remain a mystery, but the Grey Wardens have clearly gained some control over it. A recruit who is suffering from the taint may not be cured of it, but if they survive the Joining they will develop a resistance that may last decades. Without the Joining they will die or become ghouls like anyone else, so while a certain resilience on the part of the recruit may be part of the magic, it certainly isn't all of it.

Prospective Wardens consume as little as possible, as safely as possible, in order to gain the skills necessary to fight darkspawn: the ability to sense their presence, a practical if not literal immunity to the taint – and the all-important archdemon-killing presence of the taint in their veins.

Most of them aren't trying to do more with it. Although, yep, Avernus has the general idea:

The taint allows us to sense the darkspawn. The longer we survive with the taint in our blood, the more potent it becomes. Unfortunately, this corruption will eventually overwhelm the Warden; over time, it devours both mind and body, leaving nothing. But what if the spread of the corruption could be stopped, or contained in some way? What if the Warden could become more powerful, without having that power kill him? How great would that power be? Would it be enough to stop the demons? The Joining ritual is crude. We take into yourself the blood of the darkspawn in the most obvious way. Most die from the corruption immediately; it is, after all, poison. There must be some way to refine the Joining. Isolate the true power that is found in darkspawn blood, and leave behind the evil that kills us. I can feel the corruption starting to take its toll on my body. I must not succumb. There is too much work to be done. Through my magic I've been able to slow its inevitable spread, but not stop it completely. I am starting to hear things, even while awake: A voice—more beautiful than any other—that calls to me from the depths. In my dreams, I see the Black City, and I am drawn towards it. There is something there, an answer to what this taint is, this taint that we share with the darkspawn… —From the notes of Avernus. – Avernus's Notes

And that's the key thing he points out: the taint within a Grey Warden grows more powerful over time. However, the mental resistance to that taint breaks down as it grows, so by the time the taint is at its full power the Warden is effectively a ghoul. Yes, there are instances of intelligent, functional ghouls – but they're not the norm.

Power develops over time. One of the first things Alistair will tell a newly recruited Hero of Ferelden is that he can sense the presence of nearby darkspawn, but you can't ... yet. That power will develop with time.

In practice, by the time most dwarven Wardens have developed enough taint in them to even attempt magic, they're in no condition to try it. And even if they were, would they think to?

By contrast, both Valta and Harding are basically smacked in the face with the raw power of lyrium. It does not grow in them slowly, it comes to them all at once – and a certain amount of involuntary magic is performed on the spot. Once it's happened, they can't ignore it. They know they can do it.

I wonder if a dwarven Warden on the brink of their Calling might be able to throw some rocks around, if they really tried.

After all: genlock emissaries have magic, and a genlock is ... not exactly a dwarf, no, but it's also not exactly not a dwarf.

[teslasucks37]

CW: NSFW under the cut (MDNI), semi-public sex, choking (reader receiving), afab!reader (single mention of “good girl”), dom!Charlie

A/N: This vision was thrust upon me like an act of divine intervention so it must be done

Charlie Slimecicle x Reader

Car Sex Hcs!!!

Despite his joking persona online, Charlie is usually a very calm and collected person.

He can often hold off on his… “urges” long enough to make it to an appropriate place to take care of them.

But sometimes, every once in a while, he just can’t fucking wait.

You and Charlie and a bunch of other creators all went out to a kickball field to film a video.

And despite the fact that it was for a video, everyone was trying pretty hard.

He felt sweaty, pumped up, and every time he glanced at you, he felt a tightness in his pants that he was pretty familiar with at this point.

He sighed in frustration, anxious for the game to just be over already.

When the two of you finally got back to the car, he was practically pulling you into the backseat with him.

He was pulling your shorts and panties down before you’d even settled in.

Your chest is pushed up against the cushion of the seat, your face pressed against the headrest, and your hips pulled back into him as he slides inside you.

The backseat is much too small for the both of you, but Charlie doesn’t give a damn.

He pulls as far out as he can before his back hits the front seat and slams in as far as he can go at this angle.

And he sets such a brutal fucking pace cause he’s just so damn pent up.

His hips snap back and forth, in and out, his cock slicking over your gummy walls.

Fuck it feels so good.

He’s so big and strong against you, completely overtaking any sense of control between you two.

And you would never fucking expect it from him because he’s Charlie.

Sweet, sensible, caring, Charlie.

“Fuck! Charlie~” You mumble in pleasure against the head rest.

You never would have guessed when you started seeing him that he would fuck you like this.

When you feel his hand on your head move to wrap around your throat and squeeze lightly, you know you’re fucking done for.

He’s so deep in you and every time he pulls you back he hits the perfect spot in you that makes your vision blur.

His fingers grip into the head rest next to you, trying to show even the slightest restraint.

But as your ass claps back against him, a groan falling from his mouth at the sound, he grinds deeper inside you and makes your back arch against him.

You grab at his shirt, his thighs, the seat, anything to attempt to ground yourself as the car rocks with both of your motions.

“Yeah, you like this?” He asks almost teasingly, his breath ragged and needy.

“Uh huh!” You whimper through his tantalizing grip on your neck.

Charlie struggles to maintain his composure with you at his complete mercy. “You like it when I use you?”

“Yes, yes~ Ahhh!”

“Oh, fuck…” He groans out at your response.

His brain is running on overtime to practically stay conscious, barely able to hold himself back from losing control, regardless if it breaks you.

But the slutty moans you’re letting out, not worried if anyone is still around to hear or see the car rock furiously and know exactly what was happening, imply that you wouldn’t even care if he did.

You feel your eyes rolling back, your pussy fluttering around him like a warning.

“Go ahead, baby~”

You don’t even let out a sound, just an open mouthed exhale as you squirt around his cock and soak the pleather of his car seats.

Charlie groans at the sensation, a crooked smile lighting up his face. “That’s it… Good girl~”

Let’s just say he keeps you there until the sun starts to set and the windows fog up.

He, of course, lets you get any fast food you want on the way home.

[bradleysass]

Honey - @black-brothers-microfic - wc: 630 - Starchaser + Sirius

The fluorescent lights of Tesco buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the trio standing at the entrance. Sirius, clad in his usual leather jacket and fingerless gloves, looked as if he'd been dragged here against his will—because he had been. Regulus, ever the unwilling participant, scowled at the bright overhead sign like it personally offended him. And James… well, James was currently discussing their grocery store survival strategy.

"We need a code word for when things go south," James said suddenly, pushing up his glasses in that determined way he did before saying something dumb.

Regulus sighed as if he had already aged ten years just by being near him. "A code word? You want me to just fucking squawk like a bird while I'm at it?" He folded his arms, unimpressed. "It's a grocery store, Potter, not an underground mission."

Sirius, who had been silent up until now, fiddled with his gloves, watching them like they were a particularly riveting television program. "You two do realize we're just here to buy pasta and maybe some cheese, right? Not rob Gringotts?"

James ignored him. "Right, so the code word—honey."

Regulus closed his eyes, inhaled sharply, and counted to five before responding. "Honey?" he repeated, voice laced with sheer disbelief. "Of all the words in existence, you pick honey?"

James grinned, as if this was the most reasonable choice in the world. "It's easy to say. No one will suspect a thing. And if we get separated, all you have to do is yell it, and I'll come running."

"That's such a stupid word," Regulus deadpanned. "I'd rather just yell for you if we end up in different aisles." His voice held a slight edge of defeat, as if he knew resistance was futile. Talking to James for too long had that effect.

Sirius snorted, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I can't believe I know either one of you."

James slung an arm around Regulus's shoulders, practically bouncing on his feet. "C'mon, love, let's go get that pasta."

Regulus grumbled but allowed himself to be steered inside, already regretting all of his life choices leading up to this moment.

—

Fifteen minutes later, things did, in fact, go south.

Regulus had made the mistake of leaving James alone for two minutes—two minutes!—to find a decent bottle of olive oil. By the time he turned back, James had disappeared.

He cursed under his breath, glaring at the rows of packaged food as if they were somehow responsible for his predicament. Of course James couldn't be trusted to stay put.

Sirius, who had been perusing the snack aisle, wandered over with a bag of crisps in hand. "Lost your boyfriend already?"

Regulus shot him a glare. "He's not—" He stopped himself, exhaling sharply. "Forget it."

"Guess there's only one thing left to do," Sirius said, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips.

Regulus narrowed his eyes. "Don't you—"

"HONEY!" Sirius bellowed at the top of his lungs.

Several heads turned. A middle-aged woman gave them a suspicious glance. A teenager stocking shelves nearly dropped a can of beans. Regulus wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

And then, down the aisle, James's head popped up like a golden retriever spotting his owner. He grinned brightly and jogged over, completely unbothered. "Oh, you actually used the code word! That's brilliant, Reggie—"

Regulus smacked a hand over James's mouth before he could finish that sentence.

"We are never doing that again," he muttered darkly, ignoring the way James's shoulders shook with laughter against his palm.

Sirius, still munching on his crisps, clapped a hand on Regulus's shoulder. "I don't know, little brother. I think honey suits you."

Regulus didn't dignify that with a response.

Next time, James was staying home.

[glam0urgh0ull]

CAN WE KNOW ANYTHING MORE ABOUT ZACH AND JEFF? Or with zach and any other characters like EJ and/or Toby?

YES OF COURSE, YALL DONT KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE WHEN YOU GUYS ASK ABOUT ZACHARY!! 🙈

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

Zachary's relationships with Other Pr⦻xies/Pastas!

➳ Jeff the Killer 🔪

Jeffery Woods exhibits very severe antisocial and sociopathic behavior. He’s frustrated with everyone around him trying to understand him when he can barely understand himself. He has a negative outlook on life and is very selfish and narcissistic, these feelings lead to frequent fits of violent rage. All of these factors make Jeffery Woods a very hard person to get along with, many of the proxies have actually come to dislike Jeff due to his poor behavior. Except for one, Zachary Phelps.

Zachary is an irresponsible and aggressive jackass, and one of the few proxies who are consistently affected by the Slender Sickness. The reality-warping torture messing with his head, his drug addiction-along with the brutal withdrawals-has only making things worse, wearing down what little sense of reason he had left.

Zachary and Jeff will often act as if they’re both one second away from tearing each other's throats out, but in reality, the two of them are practically joined at the hip. Both are short-tempered, irrational, and prone to violence-and when nights out doesn't go according to plan, then all hell will break loose in no time. Verbal arguments will quickly escalate into full-on brawls until somebody pulls them apart or they are too beat up to continue. But for all the screaming, swinging, and shit-talking, they’re both very oddly attached to each other.

➳ Toby Erin Rogers 🍂

Toby Erin Rogers is infinitely more understanding and empathetic when put side by side with proxies like Jeffery Woods and Zachary Phelps. He is absolutely loyal to Slenderman, following every order, mission, and task without question.

However, unlike the rest, Toby would have clear boundaries when it comes to people he kills for Slender. He will not lay his hands on any women or children, because he believes that would make him too much like the man his stepfather was. Thankfully, Slenderman has never challenged this rule and Toby has thus far been able to enforce it without any punishment. However, Zachary is the kind of guy who goes in and out with a bang-explosives, guns, whatever gets the job done in the most destructive way. Collateral damage? Civilians caught in the crossfire? Doen't faze him one bit. Every stunt he pulls, the risks of getting arrested skyrocket, but he simply does not care.

Toby, on the other hand, hates the recklessness, the complete disregard for innocent lives, and the lack of control involved in it. Being around Zachary is a draining experience, as it is like standing next to a box of flares with lit fuses and awaiting an inevitable explosion. But Zachary? He loves Toby. Not in a way he'd ever say out loud, but deep down, he admires him. Sees in him something he could never be-someone with restraint, someone who still has their shit together. Someone who still gives a damn.

➳ Eyeless Jack 🩻

Eyeless Jack, previously known as Jack Nyras, was a medical student with a bright future ahead of him—until the night when fate took a turn on him. Jack was lured into the forest and sacrificed by a girl whom he had trusted. He was made into some grotesque, monstrous demon, cursed with an insatiable hunger for flesh. His body, animalistic and twisted, served as a further reminder of the disgusting, vile creature that he had come to truly detest with every passing day.

Jack struggles to accept what he has become and what he's done for Slenderman. The countless lives he has taken just because of his own gluttony leaves him drowning in his own guilt and mental torment. Often to the point where Jack punishes himself for his bloodlust by starving himself for days on end. Then again, no matter how much he punishes himself or indulges in his urges, the hunger always remains. Never satisfied. Constantly gnawing away at him on the inside.

Because of this, Jack hasn't allowed himself to be around the other proxies, he couldn't. Not when he's a risk. So, Jack avoids everyone as much as he can. Therefore, Zachary hasn't seen him all that much and doesn't have an clear opinion on him. Jack, on the other hand? He's seen just enough of Zachary to know that if they ever stuck in a room with each other, he would end up ripping the poor guy's throat out. So, for his own peace of mind and Zachary's safety, Jack would rather keep as much space between them as possible.

[mediocre-shark-tales]

End of the First Season

Masterlist

Trigger Warning- slow burn of increasing themes including sexism, SA, depression, and implied grooming

After the season wrapped up, I finally found a moment of calm. The chaos of F1 had slowed, and I was allowed a little breathing room. But even with the peace, I couldn't shake the constant ache in my body. I thought the bruising I had gotten from the Abu Dhabi crash would eventually subside, but it never did. Every day, it seemed to hurt a little more, so I finally caved and went to the doctor to get checked out.

I wasn’t prepared for the news. It wasn’t just bruising. My ribs had cracked, and so had a bone in my right forearm. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks—no wonder I’d been hurting so much. But, being me, I just shrugged it off. If there was one thing I’d learned over this crazy season, it was how to power through. And if I could make it through that wreck, I could handle a couple cracked bones, right?

I needed to break the news, of course, but I had a little fun with it. I posted on Instagram, sharing all the high points of my 2024 season—my wins, my podiums, the laughs, the frustrations. But as the last picture in the post, I slid in a photo collage of my X-rays. Just for the shock value, of course. 

The response was exactly what I expected. I saw the comments flood in—fans, media, and especially the drivers. They were all so concerned, immediately freaking out about me being in pain, even though I was smiling through it all. Some of the messages I got were hilarious, like Lando calling me crazy for not telling him sooner. “You’re seriously not a robot, right?” he texted me, complete with a couple of eye-roll emojis.

And then there was Max. Max Verstappen. He was texting me every five minutes, demanding I go see another doctor. "You should’ve told me. I would've taken care of it for you." Like he was going to fly out to Monaco just to be my personal healthcare assistant. I almost laughed at how protective he was being, but honestly, it was sweet.

Liam, of course, had the most dramatic reaction. "y/n, what the hell?! Why didn’t you tell me about this?" he practically screamed down the phone. "This could’ve been a big deal! You could’ve been seriously hurt!"

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Liam, calm down. I’m fine. I’ve been dealing with it. It’s just some cracked bones.”

But he wasn’t having it. "That’s not something you ‘just deal with.’ You need to get checked out, properly. I’m seriously getting worried now."

At that point, I had to assure him—no more freaking out. Everyone was so sweet, though. Even Carlos sent a message telling me to take it easy and that he was looking forward to seeing me next season. “Just don’t go crashing again, okay?”

I even caught a text from Fernando, who simply said: “You’re strong, but next time… maybe take it easy?”

The support from all the drivers was overwhelming, but honestly, it was what I needed. The kind words, the check-ins, it made me feel like I had a big family backing me up.

I had also made the decision recently to buy an apartment in Monaco. It wasn’t something I’d planned at first, but Lando convinced me it was the perfect move. He was all about the idea of having me live close by so we could hang out in the off-season when I wasn’t visiting family back in the U.S. Plus, Monaco seemed like the kind of place where I could really start fresh, living on my own but still be surrounded by people who understood the craziness of F1 life. Lando lives just above me, and we joke that I’m now not on "Lando’s level".

It’s been nice, honestly. I can walk around without the chaos of a race weekend looming over me, and sometimes, it feels like a different world entirely. Having drivers around gives me a sense of comfort, knowing I’m never too far from a friend, and I love that Lando is nearby for spontaneous hangouts. He’s been a solid support system, and having him in Monaco means I never really feel alone. It’s just nice, knowing that someone’s always nearby, especially after everything I’ve been through.

Franco and I were sitting in the lounge of my new Monaco apartment, just a couple of glasses of wine between us as we talked about the future. There was this quiet tension in the air—nothing too obvious, but we both knew what it felt like. He was leaning back on the couch, legs stretched out in front of him, eyes focused on the half-empty glass in his hand, but I could tell he wasn’t really looking at it.

He sighed, finally breaking the silence. “I don’t know what’s next for me, to be honest. Alpine offered me a reserve driver contract with them, but it's basically the same thing I have at Williams. The only real difference is that they are telling me they will take Jack out of his seat if he doesn’t do well. So I get paid more and have a more likely chance at racing again with them or I get loyalty points and probably never seat the steering wheel for another season with Williams.” His voice carried this layer of frustration I hadn’t heard from him before. He ran a hand through his hair, and I could see the weight of it all on him. He wasn’t the kind to complain, but I knew how badly he wanted that full-time seat. I could tell by how hard he fought to stay on the grid this season.

“Don’t let them make you feel like you have to settle,” I said softly, my words maybe a little more sincere than I meant them to be. He was one of the most talented drivers I knew, and he deserved to have a seat that would recognize that.

He let out a bitter laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, is it? The grid’s stacked, and Alpine knows I’ll have to take what I can get. But I don’t know… maybe it’s not where I want to be.”

There was a pause between us, and I watched him carefully, sensing that this was more than just a conversation about racing for him. It felt like the moment he was letting himself be real, vulnerable in a way he rarely showed.

“Franco,” I started, but the words faltered in my mouth. I didn’t know how to make him feel better, not when I knew what was next for me. He had been my rock in so many ways this season, and now it was my turn to be there for him. But it felt like something more was hanging in the air, something unsaid.

He met my eyes, and for a moment, there was this quiet, unspoken connection. “I don’t want to leave, you know?” he whispered, almost as if he were saying it to himself more than to me. “But I don’t know if I have another option.”

I didn’t know what to say, so instead, I just leaned over and put a hand on his arm, my fingers gently brushing his sleeve. It wasn’t anything dramatic, just a small gesture, but it felt like the right thing to do. We stayed like that for a while, just sitting in silence, letting the quiet of the room fill in the gaps of our thoughts. When finally a thought came to me, “You know, I was in the same predicament before becoming Aston Martin’s Reserve driver?” 

He shook his head, not making eye contact yet. “Before Aston Martin I was driving only as a test driver for Redbull, no chance at racing only at being available when their own drivers reserve or not couldn’t be there. Then Aston Martin came to me with a contract, be their reserve driver. A team with a literal multi world champion driver and a driver who was the owner of the team’s son. So basically, my only chance at driving was someone getting sick or hurt. Or I could stay with my red bull contract and earn loyalty points but probably still never see the steering wheel during a real race.” I looked at him, seeing his expression change. “It was a tough decision but I listed out the pros and cons of each. In the end, Aston Martin gave me the most potential to grow into the F1 world.”

Then, he looked at me, and there was this flicker in his eyes, something I hadn’t seen before. Something that felt real, honest. And I knew in that moment that we were both feeling it—that subtle pull between us. But neither of us said anything about it. Instead, we just let it linger, both of us too scared to do anything about it. “So what I think you need to do is think about what would help you grow or just what you want to do for your future? Is your future still F1 with Williams? Or do you want to explore other options to see what happens?”

His expression changed to one almost deep in thought. I pulled my hand back, giving him a small smile. “You’ll figure it out. You always do,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, even though my heart was beating a little faster than usual.

He smiled back, a little half-hearted, but genuine. “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N.”

“Same here,” I replied, my voice softer than I meant it to be. And for a moment, it felt like we were more than just teammates, more than just friends. But neither of us made a move. We just stayed there, pretending it was enough to be in each other’s company, not acknowledging the unspoken feelings simmering beneath the surface.

The moment passed, and we both knew it. But neither of us could shake the feeling that things had changed, even if just a little.

Post-season testing was in full swing, and I found myself behind the wheel of a Red Bull. Well, technically, it was a VCARB test, but they had thrown me and Yuki into the main team’s car—basically the 2024 title-winning machine before it would be slightly modified for our ‘junior’ team.

The car felt incredible. The downforce, the grip, the way it responded to even the slightest inputs—I had driven a strong car before, but this? This was on another level. It was a taste of what could be possible with the right setup, and I couldn’t help but grin every time I pushed it through a turn.

“Oi, don’t get too comfortable in that seat,” Yuki’s voice came through the radio as we wrapped up a practice run. “You still have to share it next year.”

I laughed, pulling into the pits and hopping out, only to be immediately greeted by VCARB’s social media team. I had already been warned that their content crew was… a little too good at capturing moments. The internet had already fallen in love with the way Yuki and I had been interacting over the past few weeks, posting clips of our playful bickering, him teaching me random Japanese phrases, or me teasing him about his food choices.

Case in point—before I even had my helmet off, Yuki was standing beside me, pointing at my water bottle with an accusing glare. “You forgot to drink again, we never saw the water button activate”

I groaned. “I was driving.”

He snatched the bottle out of the table and unscrewed the lid. “Drink. Now.”

“Bossy,” I muttered, taking a sip just to get him off my back.

Of course, VCARB’s media team caught the whole thing, and I had no doubt it would be on their Instagram story in minutes.

Later that evening, while cooling down after the day’s sessions, I found myself sketching out ideas for my new helmet. My current design had meant so much to me, but with a new chapter starting, I felt like I needed something fresh. Something that still honored my journey but signified a step forward.

I sat in the VCARB lounge, my sketchbook open in front of me, absentmindedly doodling designs. Maybe something sleeker, sharper—still keeping the essence of my previous helmets, but with a modern touch. I knew I wanted to incorporate the sea turtle shadow again, but this time, maybe in a way that intertwined with something symbolic for myself.

Yuki plopped down beside me, peering over my shoulder. “You’re making it blue, right?”

I rolled my eyes. “Just because I drive for VCARB now doesn’t mean my entire identity is changing.”

He grinned. “Fine, fine. But if you don’t put at least a little VCARB energy into it, I’ll be offended.”

I smirked. “I’ll think about it.”

Truthfully, this whole transition was already feeling better than I had expected. The team was welcoming, the car felt strong, and Yuki had quickly become an easy person to be around. For the first time in a while, I felt like I had something solid to look forward to with my future in this sport.

Now, I just had to survive another season of teasing from Yuki and VCARB’s relentless social media team.

Netflix: Drive to Survive – Post-Season Interview

The cameras were rolling, the dim lighting of the Drive to Survive interview room setting the scene. I sat in the chair, legs crossed, hands fidgeting slightly in my lap as the producers got everything settled. It felt weird, really. Looking back on the season as if it was just a chapter in a book rather than something I had physically, emotionally, and mentally endured.

The interviewer gave me a reassuring smile before jumping straight into it.

“This was your rookie season—or, well, partial rookie season. And it wasn’t exactly an easy one. How do you even begin to reflect on everything that happened?”

I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. “Honestly? I don’t even know where to start. It was the highest of highs, the lowest of lows. I don’t think I ever imagined just how much this season would take out of me—physically, mentally. I came into it with so much to prove, knowing that I wasn’t even guaranteed a seat for next year. Then the Vegas crash happened, and suddenly everything shifted. I had to rebuild myself from the ground up—again.”

“You mentioned the Vegas crash—arguably one of the scariest moments of the season. How much did that affect you going forward?”

I swallowed, running my tongue along the inside of my cheek. “It’s weird because at the time, I was just focused on getting back in the car. I didn’t want to sit out, I didn’t want to give people a reason to doubt me. But looking back? I should’ve given myself more time. I was hiding injuries, pushing through pain I didn’t even fully understand. It wasn’t until after Abu Dhabi, when I finally went to a doctor, that I realized I had been racing with cracked ribs and a fractured forearm. That… that hit me hard. Not just because I knew I had been reckless with my own health, but because it made me realize just how much I feared losing my place here.”

“And now, even after proving yourself with a few Grand Prix wins, multiple podiums, and signing with Cadillac, you’re still facing uncertainty. How does that feel?”

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “Yeah… it’s tough. I signed with Cadillac for 2026, which is exciting, but next year? I’m on loan with VCARB. It’s a temporary situation. There’s no telling how things will go, how I’ll fit into the team, how the car will perform. And then after that, I’m moving to a completely new team, a completely new project, which—don’t get me wrong—is an incredible opportunity, but also terrifying. I won’t have the stability that some of these other drivers have. I don’t get to settle in and build a team around me. I have to constantly prove myself, adapt, and just hope that everything works out.”

“Do you think about that often? The uncertainty of it all?”

I huffed out a laugh. “Every damn day. But that’s the sport, isn’t it? You never really know where you stand until half through the season. I just have to trust that I’m here for a reason.”

“You had a lot of support from fellow drivers this season, some of them clearly becoming very close to you. How much did that mean, especially in a year as chaotic as this one?”

I smiled at that, shaking my head slightly. “I don’t think I would’ve survived this season without them. Lando, Max, Lewis, Carlos, Franco—they all helped me in different ways. Max was like this overprotective older brother, always making sure I wasn’t pushing myself too hard, which—ironic, considering it’s Max Verstappen we’re talking about.” I laughed. “Lewis was there in a more subtle way, just letting me talk through things when I needed to. Carlos and Lando, well… they made sure I never took myself too seriously. And Franco… Franco understood in a way no one else could.”

“Speaking of Franco, He’s not on the grid next year, but you are. What is that like?”

I exhaled softly. “It is hard. Franco deserved a seat just as much as anyone else. He knows that. We have had a moment together where we both acknowledged that, no matter what happens, we’ll always support each other. But it’s bittersweet. I’m moving forward, but I don’t get to have him there with me next season. It’s just another reminder of how brutal this sport is.”

“Despite all of that, you still seem… excited.”

I let a small smirk tug at my lips. “I mean, yeah. It’s terrifying, but it’s also incredible. I get to drive a Formula 1 car for another season. I get to be part of the chaos. And, hey, if nothing else—at least Yuki and I are going to make VCARB’s social media team’s lives very entertaining next year.”

The interviewer chuckled. “That’s for sure. Final question—if you could say one thing to the version of yourself that started this season, what would it be?”

I sat with that for a moment, thinking. Then, with a slow, deep breath, I met the interviewer’s gaze.

“I’d tell her she should allow herself to lean on her friends more, to allow her grid family to help her when situations go downhill. But even when they get terrifyingly bad, she’s gonna get through it, after all, mama didn’t raise no bitch” I smiled mischeviously knowing that was the last question and while I had done well the entire time not swearing, the last word would have to be beeped for tv.

Pre-Season testing

My first partial season had long ended. The whirlwind of emotions, the battles on and off track, the celebrations, the heartbreaks—it had all been wrapped up into one chaotic, unforgettable year. And yet, as I stood there now, staring at the package in front of me, I realized it was only the beginning.

The VCARB garage was quieter than I had ever heard it. No roaring engines, no frantic radio chatter, just the distant hum of mechanics working in the background as the pre-season test wound down. Yuki had already disappeared somewhere—probably off to grab snacks or cause some minor chaos—and the crew had mostly filtered out, leaving just a handful of us behind.

I ran my fingers along the edge of the box, my name printed in bold letters on the lid. This was it. A new chapter. A new beginning. A new identity.

I glanced up at the lead designer, who gave me a small nod, encouraging me to lift the lid.

My heart pounded as I peeled back the protective wrap, the first glimpse of my brand-new helmet catching the dim garage light. I inhaled sharply, my fingers brushing over the surface, tracing the details I had agonized over for weeks. This wasn’t just a helmet. It was a statement. A promise.

A warning.

Something is coming.

I smiled to myself, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline, that unwavering hunger for what came next.

The season was over.

But the story was far from finished.

[gingerteafairy]

girl never stop writing todd haynes fics im obsessed. esp 'third wheel payback' soso good i love a comic reader fic <3

funny you say that right as i was finishing this one hssowiejsnsk wrote it after seeing an adorable edit of todd with every man gets his wish by lana del rey on tiktok and i religiously saw it everyday multiple times ❤️‍🩹

spiderman milkshake (todd haynes x reader)

Who said comics can't help on a date?

tags n warnings: smut/mdni, waitress!reader, comic references, language, fingering, dry humping, kinks. word count: 4.3k

Todd was practically glued to his milkshake, sucking on the straw like it was some kind of life-sustaining multivitamin when he saw you walk by, effortlessly balancing a tray while tending to the tables. You looked adorable in that waitress uniform. Atomic Comics was his favorite place in the world—his friends, comic books, and a gorgeous nerdy waitress all in one spot. He could swear he saw you wearing a Venom T-shirt before you put on your uniform, matching with his Spiderman one.

Dave and Marty were deep in conversation, but Todd? He was somewhere else entirely—lost in his own world. Or, more accurately, lost in New York City, spideyvenom was getting really interesting right now.

"And like I was saying, Spider-Man’s powers are total garbage," Dave argued, popping a fry into his mouth. "I mean, web-shooting? That’s disgusting. Right, Todd?"

"Huh? Yeah. Totally." Todd replied absentmindedly, taking another sip.

"No way, and I can prove it! Webs are a hit! Just look at how he shoots them," Marty insisted, mimicking Spider-Man's signature hand gesture while making web-slinging sound effects. Dave immediately joined in.

Their laughter faded when they noticed Todd wasn’t reacting at all. He hadn’t moved a muscle. Following his gaze, they landed on you—standing a few feet away, scribbling an order onto your notepad.

Todd was mesmerized. The way you absentmindedly tucked the pen behind your ear, how your hair brushed against your neck, the delicate earring dangling just beneath—it was adorable. He wished he had given you that earring himself.

"I’m telling you, man. You should just talk to her. That’s your second milkshake," Dave pointed out, growing tired of watching Todd’s thousand-yard stare.

"Yeah, dude. This is getting kinda creepy," Marty added, raising an eyebrow.

Truth be told, Todd had known you way before his friends ever did.

He had once posted an insanely cool Justice League edit, and you had actually commented on it. That one reply had somehow turned into a full-on conversation, which then turned into many conversations. And before Todd even knew what hit him, he was completely, hopelessly into you.

The moment you casually mentioned that you read manga too? Yeah. That was it. Game over.

Even if you both chatted online everyday, seeing you in person was a completely different experience. It was like you were strangers all over again. Part of that was because Todd was horrifically shy and couldn’t even look you in the eyes without feeling like his soul was going to physically leave his body. The other part? Well… you were a waitress.

For some reason, that made it feel… wrong.

Like he fantasized a lot, basically a porn movie plot, you coming only on a apron saying "hey, sweetie, here's your milkshake" in an exaggerated sultry voice as you took the piece off. If a hacker could see his browsing history, they would see that 50% of waitress kink videos visualizations came from Todd's PC.

But as a normal shy guy, he was afraid of bothering you. Like you were only talking to him because it was literally your job. And, of course, there was also the massive fear that Dave and Marty would say something stupid and completely humiliate him.

Because, let’s be real—they absolutely would.

Dave exchanged a knowing glance with Marty—silently forming a plan. "Hey, waitress!" He suddenly called out.

Todd’s eyes widened in panic. "No! No, no, no—what the fuck am I supposed to say to her?"

"Order another milkshake," Marty snickered.

Todd ran a shaky hand through his hair, clearly freaking out as he saw you glance in their direction before heading toward their table.

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit—she’s coming!" His voice barely came out as he scrambled for an escape, gulping down his milkshake like his life depended on it.

"How can I help?" you greeted with a warm smile, the sunlight from the window behind you making you look even more radiant. Then, your gaze landed on Todd. "Hey, Todd. The usual?"

"Me?" Todd blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. He turned to his friends, who looked just as amused as they were surprised.

"Yeah… milkshake. I know you like it—you always get the same thing," you beamed casually, already flipping open your notepad.

"Uh… I… can I…" Todd stumbled over his words. Oh my God, she knows what I like. His brain was short-circuiting. "I wanna buy you a milkshake."

You let out a soft laugh, pulling the pen from behind your ear and jotting something down. "I’m gonna serve you a big slice of ‘never do that again,’ okay?"

You replied, folding the piece of paper and placing it near his hand before walking away. Todd stared at you, utterly devastated. His soul left his body.

"Oof, dude… that was rough," Dave cringed, physically recoiling from secondhand embarrassment.

"Yeah, I kinda saw that one coming," Todd muttered, hesitantly unfolding the note—fully expecting his official rejection letter, his eyes widened.

"Oh. My. God."

"What?!" Dave and Marty leaned in at the same time. Todd slowly turned the paper around.

"I’m off at 5. XOXO."

"XOXO?" Dave repeated, snatching the paper.

"It means hugs and kisses, dumbass," Marty rolled his eyes, taking it from him to inspect the handwriting. Before he could analyze further, Todd swiped back his sacred treasure.

"I dunno… think I won’t go," Todd murmured, pouting dramatically.

"Wait, wait, wait. You're gonna chicken out now that she actually showed interest?" Marty hissed in disbelief.

"I don’t know, man… She’s perfect. And I’m just… this." Todd gestured vaguely to himself. He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as he absentmindedly reached for his milkshake straw—only to find nothing there.

"Hey, man. Don’t be like that," Marty said, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. "If she’s into you, that means there’s gotta be something cool about you."

"Yeah, Todd. You’re a cool guy, the smartest one out of the three of us. You’ll do great," Dave reassured him, flashing a confident smile.

Todd let out a weak laugh, barely processing the words as he glanced at you. His heart skipped a beat when you turned and met his gaze, smiling at him like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Was this what cardiac arrest felt like?

"Yeah… it’s gonna be great," he mumbled, his lips stretching into a dumb, lopsided grin. Every ounce of self-doubt vanished. That smile of yours? That was all he needed today.

Marty and Dave, sensing the gravity of the situation, made sure to stay with him until the very last minutes of your shift. They cracked jokes, debated superhero fights, and did their best to keep Todd from imploding. And for a while, it worked—until the clock ticked closer to 5 PM.

Todd felt it before he saw it—the rush of oh-no-oh-no-it’s-happening panic settling in his bones. His palms grew clammy as he watched you disappear into the employee break room. His foot tapped against the floor rapidly.

Dave, immediately noticing, snapped his fingers in front of Todd’s face. "Alright, dude. Focus up. Take this."

Todd blinked as Dave dropped a stick of gum into his hand. "Do I have bad breath?"

"No… but trust me, mint gum is a game changer. Chicks love it."

Marty, standing beside them, shoved his hands into his pockets and casually pulled out five more sticks of mint gum. Todd and Dave stared at him like he had just pulled out five engagement rings.

"What?" Marty blinked. "I like to be prepared."

"As if you’re kissing that many people," Dave snorted.

Marty rolled his eyes and flipped him off. "I am a romance expert, okay? I’m the best at Romance Simulator, and I’ve picked up a ton of tips—"

"Oh yeah, great example, Marty," Dave cut in.

"Hey! Those games are super realistic!" Marty huffed, popping a piece of gum into his mouth. "I even have a girlfriend in one of them."

"The only girlfriend you’re ever getting," Dave snickered.

Todd, however, wasn’t listening anymore. His brain had short-circuited the moment he saw you step out of the break room, adjusting your bag strap as you waved goodbye to your coworkers.

"Guys, she’s coming," he whisper-hissed, suddenly shoving them aside. Panic took over. "How do I look? Am i stinking?"

Before anyone could react, Todd lifted his arm toward Marty. Marty recoiled like a cat sprayed with water. "DUDE. I’m not smelling you."

"Come on, please! I don’t even know if I put on cologne—Dave!" Todd pleaded desperately, his eyes wide with silent help me energy. Dave just shook his head, holding back a laugh.

"You ready?" Your voice rang out, bright and casual, like you hadn’t just sent Todd spiraling into a crisis. His body moved before his brain could, immediately slamming his arm down and scrambling to his feet.

"Of course! Let’s go!" he blurted out, way too enthusiastic, wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans like that would magically solve the problem.

But when he finally looked at you—saw the soft amusement in your eyes, the way your lips twitched like you were holding back a laugh—his nerves settled just a little bit.

You both stepped out of the store, and Todd could not stop staring. He had never seen you in casual clothes before.

The skirt? Adorable. That black Venom t-shirt? Perfect. The way it fit on you? Dangerous. You turned to face him, the soft scent of your hair hit him like a gentle, but highly effective truck.

"Finally worked up the courage to talk to me, huh? I was starting to think you were embarrassed of me," you teased, laughing.

"Embarrassed of you? Jesus, it’s more like the opposite," he blurted out, rubbing the back of his neck. The warm, bubbly feeling in his chest only grew when you laughed at his joke.

"So why didn’t you ever talk to me?" you asked, genuinely curious. First things first, let’s be honest here.

You were just as into Todd as he was into you.

There was something about him that was so effortlessly adorable. The way he always ordered a milkshake, sipping on it like it was the best thing in the world. You made sure to take your sweet time preparing it just right—just so you could see that little happy smile he made when he took the first sip.

Todd was the kind of guy who made you giggle and kick your feet on your bed, cheeks burning at just the thought of him.

And the fact that he had zero clue about the effect he had on you? It almost made you feel like some kind of stalker. Casually texting him every day just to keep the conversation going. Catching yourself wishing you were his milkshake straw, quenching his thirst, around his rosy wet lips. Oh, the tongue—

Todd, completely unaware of all of this, was busy trying not to combust.

"I just… I thought you’d be embarrassed of me because, well… I'm—" He exhaled, hesitating, hoping you’d finish the sentence for him.

Loser, his brain supplied helpfully. Instead, you smiled and said, "Shy?"

Todd blinked. That was not the word he expected.

You—beautiful, funny, way-too-cool-for-him—were looking at him with zero judgment. Just patience. Just kindness. He was sure you're going to heaven when you died.

"Yeah… I guess," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. "Sorry about that."

"no, I'm the one that should be apologizing," you cooed, sighing. "Sorry about the dump, i was kinda angry with you. I was starting to think you hated me and I don't know, ghosting."

"No, shit. Sorry," he whined, feeling like an ass to make you feel like this. "From now on, i'll talk to you every time I see you. Promise."

"Deal. Hey, do you remember that new Marvel issue I told you about?" you asked, smoothly changing the subject.

Todd nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah! It’s great. Why?"

"I bought it. It’s at my place. Wanna come see?"

Todd’s brain immediately shut down. His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

Processing… Processing… ERROR: BRAIN NOT FOUND.

"I… uh… one sec! I forgot something back in the store," Todd blurted out, laughing way too weirdly before bolting back inside.

He skidded to a stop at the table where Dave and Marty were still sitting, slamming his hands down on it like he was in some kind of action movie. "Date over already?" Dave questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"SHE WANTS ME TO GO TO HER HOUSE," Todd announced, not breathing, before grabbing Dave’s soda and chugging it.

"And what the hell are you waiting for? Go before he changes her mind! You don't have many options," Marty urged, while Dave yanked his soda back, dramatically wiping the rim before taking another sip.

"But I don’t know what to do! It’s not a date! She just mentioned something about a new Marvel issue," Todd gasped, heart pounding, his body already covered in stress sweat.

Dave and Marty exchanged a look. Marty was the first to speak, grinning. "That’s a code."

"That’s 100% a code," Dave agreed.

Todd blinked. "A code? The hell you talking about?" He whispered like a true paranoid man, glancing out the window to make sure you weren’t listening. Luckily, you were distracted on your phone.

"Okay, Todd. Tell me when the new Marvel issue actually comes out," Dave prompted, crossing his arms.

"March 23rd. Why?" Todd replied, even more confused.

"And what’s today’s date?"

"Hmmm, lemme think. Okay, I know. March 19th, but what does that have to—" Todd froze. His brain short-circuited. His eyes went huge. "Oh my God. It’s a code."

"It’s a code," they both confirmed, nodding like wise sages.

The realization hit Todd so hard that all three of them jumped up in celebration—only to immediately sit back down when everyone in the store looked at them like they were insane.

"Shit. I gotta go. Bye!" Todd practically sprinted away.

"Crack that code wide open, Todd!" Dave called after him, laughing as Todd flipped him off on his way out.

“Hey, man,” Marty called, stopping Todd, gesturing him to come closer and whisper. “Spiderman hands, you hear me?”

“What the—”

“Just do it,” he insisted and Todd frowned, realization coming when he did the gesture himself. “You see?”

“Got it. Thanks, dude,” he beamed, training with his both hands. You never know when you have to use your non dominant hand.

“And when you do it down there…” He continued, hands on his face to cover the gesture. “Venom tongue. Flash movements.”

“Damn, Marty. You're a fucking Wikipedia,” he grinned, keeping the information on his head. “Do the sage has more advices to this poor mortal?”

“Oh, i got one,” Dave standed, joining the conversation. “If she looks at your lips, don't chicken out. One more thing, mimic her lips, that way you won't mess your first kiss.”

“What? I had my first kiss.” He murmured blushing.

“Seriously, dude?” Marty mocked, giving an exaggerated eye roll. While Todd was still inside, you whipped out your phone and immediately typed into the group chat.

You: Girls, seriously. I’m with him.

Erika: Who??

You: Todd Haynes!!!!

Katie: OH MY GODDD

You: I’m so nervous, Idk what to do.

Erika: Apron. Wear it.

You: For what?

Erika: You’ll understand.

Katie: You got this, girl. You’re amazing.

Erika: Get him pregnant

You snorted at your friends’ chaotic but heartfelt encouragement, quickly locking your phone the second you saw Todd skidded back up to you, barely keeping it together.

"I’m back! I, uh, forgot… my keys," he explained, shaking them a little to prove it.

"I forget mine all the time. So… ready to go?"

He nodded so fast it was almost embarrassing.As you walked, Todd felt like he was floating. Your house was close to the store, and when you stepped inside, Todd couldn’t help but drink in his surroundings. It was small, but cozy—just like you.

He wanted to be cool about it. Casual. Normal. So, naturally, he started copying every single thing you did like some kind of socially awkward robot.

You took off your jacket? Boom. Jacket off. You took off your shoes and put them neatly on the shoe rack? Guess what? Todd was doing that too.

Smooth. Totally natural.

"So…" you started, taking a step closer to him. "What do you want?"

Todd choked on absolutely nothing and immediately backed up a step. Oh God. She moves fast. Is it happening? Is this it? Shit, I don't have any condoms here.

"W-What do you mean?" he stammered, hands awkwardly hovering at his sides.

You let out a soft laugh, but internally, you were screaming. Come on, Todd. Pick up the hints. Please just kiss me already.

"Do you wanna check out the comic or do something else first?" you clarified, hoping he’d catch the very obvious subtext.

Unfortunately, you were dealing with Todd Haynes—a man who had never been close to a woman that wasn’t his own mother. Todd, however, was trying to trust his instincts—and the questionable advice of his friends. With a burst of sudden confidence, he reached into his pocket and pulled out two pieces of gum.

"Wanna… gum?" he offered timidly.

You blinked. "Do I have bad breath?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

At that exact moment, Todd mentally began digging his own grave and jumping inside with a cheap bouquet. Dave crying looking at the rainy sky and Marty singing Love Hurts on his grave. R.I.P. Todd Haynes, the biggest coward to ever exist.

"NO. Oh my God. Fuck, no," he panicked, his words tripping over each other. "You smell… really good. Like, so good. I—uh. Shit. That sounded weird. I just—ugh, I shouldn’t have—sorry, I don’t know why I did that—"

Mid-breakdown, Todd shoved the gum back into his pocket and rocked back and forth on his heels, suffocating in the crushing weight of the awkward silence. You thought fast. You weren’t about to let this moment die, remembering the apron tip.

"Hey," you chirped, forcing casual confidence. "How about I cook for us?"

You turned toward the kitchen, heart pounding, silently praying the pots and pans would swallow you whole to spare you from the embarrassment.

Todd perked up immediately. "Yes! Yes, absolutely. I love everything you make," he rushed out, practically jogging after you before settling into a chair—the perfect spot to admire you while you cooked. You tied on an apron, completely unaware of the effect it had on Todd, who sat there, staring in silent awe.

"Wow."

You turned. "What?"

"Nothing!" he blurted, immediately crossing his arms like it would somehow make him look cooler and less flustered.

"Okay," you muttered, shaking your head as you turned to rummage through the cabinets. Erika was right, you’d definitely thank her. You stretched up on your tiptoes, but—unfortunately—your genius past self had placed the glasses way too high.

"Damn it…" you muttered.

Todd immediately jumped up. "I got it!"

He reached past you, his height making the task effortless—and for the first time, you actually registered how much taller he was than you.

"What do you need?" he asked, voice much closer than you expected.

"Uh…" You blinked up at him, suddenly feeling a little flustered yourself. "The glass cups. I, uh… accidentally put them super high."

Todd grabbed them easily, handing them over with a small, proud smile—totally unaware that his casual helpfulness had just made your heart skip a beat. He carefully set the two glasses down on the counter. You bit your cheek, your gaze meeting his—and lingering just a little too long.

The air between you suddenly felt thicker, heavier. His eyes flickered to your lips, and your breath hitched as you instinctively did the same. When you looked back up, his gaze was still there, locked on your mouth like it held the secrets of the universe.

Okay. Enough was enough.

Before your nerves could get the best of you, you moved, your fingers lightly brushing over his hand. Todd stiffened at first—face heating from the tiny touch—but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he exhaled sharply as he let his palm travel up to your cheek, hesitating for half a second before finally leaning in, closing the gap between you.

The second your lips met, you melted. Without thinking, your arms flew up, wrapping around his neck as you deepened the kiss—half in excitement, half to make sure he didn’t chicken out.

Todd, on the other hand, was very much spiraling.

Oh my God. Oh my God. I am kissing her. This is happening. She’s kissing me back. This is—

His brain short-circuited before defaulting to its best coping mechanism—imitation. Todd mimicked your lips movements, following your lead, and shockingly it worked. His hands instinctively gripped your waist, pulling you in closer.

And then, without really thinking, he tilted his head, stepping forward just enough to press you gently against the counter. It was official.

Todd Haynes had zero idea what he was doing. But somehow, it was going very, very well.

He moaned when your hands reached his hair, anchoring on his frame, he sucked your bottom lip like his life depended on it, he kissed hungrily. It was hot. So freaking hot, you were losing your mind, loving how he changed about it and just devoured you.

Everything was so good that he almost forgot about his cock pulsating inside his jeans. He pushed back, eyes wide as he looked down to the tent, eyes up to meet your mouth swollen, three tones redder and a huge teeth mark as the cherry on top.

“Fuck, I'm so sorry,” he whimpered, embarrassed with his hormones controlling his brain. “It’s just— I have no fucking idea of what I'm doing, but it's so good.”

“Yeah, it's really good,” you encouraged, coming closer, chests touching as you leaned to kiss him, slightly opening your legs, him entering the small gap you conceded.

The kiss was slower, more sensual. He was a fast learner, holding back on the vacuum-like sucking, concentrating on gentle nips. He pushed back, eyes closed.

“Is it better?” He muttered, ghosting his lips over yours.

“Yeah, but I think this would be better,” you breathed, taking his hand and directioning them to your lower belly, guiding him to your panties.

He gulped, nodding, opening his eyes to see you rolling your skirt up, giving him a sight of your panties. Todd Haynes was too stunned to speak. He just moved his hand to touch the covered spot, almost flicking his hand back when he felt you shivering.

“You can touch directly if you want to,” you suggested like you weren't the one dying of embarrassment.

Todd sighed. Spider-Man hands. He remembered when he pushed your panties down and patted his fingertip on your clit, watching your reaction. He gulped at you and looked at him with doe eyes begging to be touched. He wouldn't deny it, so he gently rubbed your clit, licking his lips, dying to feel your taste on them.

“Yeah, you're—pretty good, Todd,” you purred, your sounds making his head blurred, focused on your cunt getting wetter and wetter.

“Is it?” His eyes lit up, going down at your slit to collect more liquid and keep the stroking on your spot.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, spreading your legs wider. Todd's chest rose and fell rapidly, increasing the rhythm until he successfully inserted his middle finger inside. “Fuck.”

He froze his finger, searching your eyes to check if he did something wrong, but your flushed face, so beautiful biting your lip as your hips longed for his finger said the opposite. He was doing really good.

Encouraged by your lewd expression, he joined his ring finger inside, setting a pace by the reactions you were making.

“Faster, Todd,” you pleaded, grinding on his fingers. He couldn't even believe, looking down, seeing his fingers glistening in and out, disappearing on your cunt sucking them, your walls clenching around them, he was panting.

“Like this?” He asked in a whimpery voice, doing what you needed. He searched for your lips, brushing them as he heard the wet sound of your pussy.

You grasped his biceps, feeling the knot forming on your lower belly as you purred and whined on the kiss. Todd started to breathe faster, grinding on your thigh, his free hand palming your ass.

“Todd, I'm cumming,” you mewled, coming undone on his fingers, legs shivering as he held you in place, preventing you from falling down. He kept fingering you til he opened his mouth, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back, swaying his hips on your thigh.

He groaned, taking off his fingers from you and directioning it to his mouth, sucking your arousal. He hummed, looking back at you panting, hands gripping on the counter.

“You taste better than milkshakes,” he shyly added, planting an adorable peck on your lips.

“You're so cute,” you giggled, pecking him back. You weren't done, your hunger for Todd might never end. He was just so damn irresistible. “Hey… do you wanna, like… continue this?”

“Oh… uhmm…” He stammered, his nose doing the little frown you find cute. “We have to wait a little.”

“Why?” You pouted, tilting your head.

“Why?” He echoed, thinking about all the manners of saying the obvious, choosing to say it straight. “I came.”

You grinned, giggling at him getting beet-red. “Hey, don't worry about it. We can eat something while your body reacts.”

“Can i eat you?” He blurted, suddenly digging courage from the bottom of his heart.

You blushed, nodding, too shy to say something. He grinned, kneeling on the floor. “Hey, don't you wanna go to my room? It might be uncomfortable for you.”

“It's just…” he began, tilting his head up to meet your gaze, warm breath next to your cunt. “I kinda fantasize a lot about eating you out in the kitchen.”

“Really?” You panted, hands making their way to his head.

“Yeah,” he replied, licking his lips in anticipation. Venom tongue. Flash speed. “The apron is a bonus.”

That night, you finally lived your dream—becoming Todd’s milkshake straw in the best way possible. And Todd? He finally mustered up the courage to take a real chance on you.

You spent the rest of the evening wrapped up in each other, sharing a blanket that neither of you really needed. Your legs brushed. Your fingers tangled absentmindedly. Every now and then, Todd would steal a glance at you like he still couldn’t believe this was real. As you both talked for hours about the thing that brought you together in the first place—comics—he realized something:

Super heroes were cool. Spider Man and Flash? Even cooler. He couldn't forget to thank Venom as a villain.

But nothing—nothing—could top the way you looked at him like he was your favorite issue in the entire collection.

[milchig-de]

Request successfully completed

Pairing: Lighter x Reader

Summary: You requested a titjob from Lighter and well. For some reason, he agreed.

Warnings: Smut, 18+ etc, Titfucking, Reader has a dick, Titplay, Nipple play, Groping (consensual), Handjob

Notes: LMAO i think i wrote it kind of shittily but alas. not everything can be the cream of the crop amirite guys

„Hah… Hah…“

You pant as you grind against Lighter’s bulge, your face buried in his neck. Your arms are wrapped tightly around him, hugging him as close to you as you can, your desperation driving you to grind even harder against him.

„Thank you.. ahh…. For agreeing… mmh… to this… angh..“

The man you’re feverishly grinding on only nods in response, his sunglasses hiding his eyes. His face is flushed and he lets out quiet pants, trying to keep his sounds in check. You slide a hand into his hair and grasp his hair to push him into a kiss. Your mouths crash into each other, desperation making your movements sloppy as your tongues mingle with each other. Drool slips down, dripping onto his jacket, but neither of you care enough to wipe it off. Slowly, you start moving your kisses away from his lips and onto his jaw, along his jaw line down to his neck. Unfortunately his clothes are in the way of going any further, so you rip yourself away from him, carefully unravelling his scarf before practically tearing his jacket and underlying shirt off of him.

Instantly, you’re back on his neck, biting and sucking marks into it. He doesn’t even attempt to stop you, confident that his jacket or his scarf will cover it tomorrow. Meanwhile, you let your hands wander further and further down, sliding them across his body. Then, just to tease him, you start using only the very tips of your fingers to ghost across his sides. He shivers in response, giving you an unserious glare.

You chuckle at this, before your hands find his real target: His tits. You cup both of them with your hands, squeezing them. He gasps quietly, not having expected it. You press your thumbs into his flesh, stroking them with some pressure. Then you let go, attracting a disappointed sigh from the man below you. This doesn’t last very long however, since your hands immediately find his nipples. You start rubbing them gently before steadily speeding up, forcing sinfully beautiful moans out of him. Licking your lips, you lean down and wrap your lips around one of them, your hand moving to hold his pec instead. Your warm mouth envelops his nipple, swirling your tongue around it and sucking on it.

Unable to bear the pleasure, Lighter covers his lower face with his hand, unfortunately obscuring his lecherous moans. His hard dick digs into your ass- a clear reminder that you’re not the only one enjoying this.

After one last lick of his nipple, you go back to working lovebites into his skin, slowly moving up back to his neck. You remove your mouth from his skin for a moment.

“Lighter~ Remove your arm for me, won’t you? Wanna hear you~”

Using your head, you gently nudge his arm until he moves it away. He stares down at you for a moment, meeting your eyes. A moment passes before you smile at him, your eyes crinkling as you give him another kiss on his chest. His gaze softens ever so slightly- though you don’t notice it, since his sunglasses are hiding it.

Instead, you get up. Finally, you get to the main part and the reason you have Lighter here in front of you: A titjob. Of course, his tits aren’t big enough to fully envelop your cock, but who cares. You want him and his tits.

So, you only take off what’s necessary, so you can get to the main action quicker. You push Lighter down, moving him to lay flat on his back. Amused, he follows your instructions. He’s curious to see how you’ll use his tits to get off. That’s one of the reasons he agreed to your request- simple curiosity. No… other reason.

After he has laid down, you hover over his chest, your dick standing fully erect. Slowly, you move down as if you were sitting on him. You can’t help but moan when your balls and the lower side of your dick touch his skin. Gently, you start rocking yourself between his tits.

You can’t help but admire the view; the countless bites and marks you made are red and clearly visible, his nipples stiff, not to mention his breasts are so full… You put your hands to the sides of his body and start pushing his tits together, bringing them ever so closer to your dick. Drool starts collecting in your mouth at this and you have to swallow hard.

You start grinding against his chest harder and harder, your dick throbbing at the stimulation. Pre-cum spills out of your tip, smearing in between his tits with every thrust. But it’s just not quite enough- the stimulation is pleasing and being able to touch and grope his tits with your dick at the same time makes you feel like you could cum on the spot. Still, you feel like something is missing.

Unconsciously, you start slowing down. Lighter takes notice of this; he had been watching your dick move the whole time, noting how close it got to his face. It’s almost mesmerizing watching your cock get right up in his face, only to then immediately rush away. In fact, if he only leaned up a bit more, he could probably have the tip in his mouth with every upward thrust.

And so he does exactly that, lifting his head and letting his tongue loll out of his mouth. Now, when you thrust up, the tip of your dick enters his mouth just the slightest bit. Your eyes widen at the feeling of warmth around your cock, immediately speeding up your grinding and thrusting.

“Ngh, thank you Lighter.. Thank yoU! So much… ahhhngh…”

The view above him speaks more than any words you could say; A moaning and groaning mess, desperately grinding against his chest like some sort of pervert, your hands fondling his chest. Your face is distorted in ecstasy, panting, drool slipping out of your mouth, your eyes half-lidded. It makes his own dick throb as well. Just to help you out a little, he lifts his hand and places it on top of your dick, offering you additional stimulation.

“Ah! Lighter thank youngh, thAnk you s-so much… Hngh!”

Heat courses through you like waves crashing on the beach, encouraging you to grind harder and faster, begging you to experience more and more and more-

White liquid spills out of your dick, shooting directly onto Lighter’s face. His mouth is still open, so some of it flies into his mouth and onto his tongue.

You ride out your high, your eyes squeezed shut. When you open your eyes, the most beautiful sight greets you: Your one and only beloved crush Lighter, panting with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, face covered in your cum. It’s enough to make you hard again. But you decide, this time it shouldn’t just be about you.

First, you lean down, meeting his tongue with yours and sliding into his mouth. Sliding it around his mouth, you make sure none of your cum stains his mouth, before releasing him and licking up the cum on his face. He moans at your actions, grinding against you.

Of course, you haven’t forgotten about him, slipping a hand down and into his trousers. Originally, you meant to slip your hand into his underwear as well, but it doesn’t really matter. You give his bulge one firm squeeze- which makes him cum almost instantly, a loud, slutty moan escaping his mouth.

You stare at him in surprise; His stomach tenses, hands gripping the sheets tightly. Who would’ve thought the Lighter would come unravelled at just the lightest touch of your hands? But you most certainly don’t mind. When he grinds into your hand as a result of his orgasm, you make sure to knead his dick, overstimulating him ever so slightly. Biting his neck, you squeal internally; it’s just so hot to see him just as needy as yourself.

He, however seems to disagree, turning his head away from you. You can see just the barest hints of a blush from your angle, but it doesn’t matter. Instead, you slowly trace your finger over his chest, through the remaining fluids, up his neck to his chin, where your finger stills for a moment, before exerting pressure, so that he turns his face back to you. He’s quite adorable, red-faced and averting your gaze. You do note, however, that he doesn’t avoid you. He could have avoided turning his head to you, as strong as he is, but he still chose to follow your movement.

So, you lean forward, capturing his lips in a kiss- unlike the previous ones, this one is soft and gentle, meant to encourage and reassure him. It seems to work, as he kisses you back. His hands snake around to your hip as he turns to face you better. After a short, sweet moment, you separate yourself from him. You cup his cheek with your hand, gently stroking it with your thumb.

“Ah Lighter… How come you’re so hot? Just makes me wanna rail you.”

“Hm… It’s true, I am very attractive.”

The smallest of smiles graces his face. It’s almost a bit teasing.

“How about you do just that then?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Blinking, you stare at him for a moment.

“R-rail you?”

He nods, letting out an amused huff.

You swallow hard. It really does seem like he’s serious- and you certainly don’t plan on missing out on this chance. Quickly, you pin him to the bed below you and smash your lips into his, catching him by surprise.

It seems like your request paid off, in more ways than one.

[muhlsworld]

WE’RE MEANT TO BE

synopsis: maybe you weren’t so done with nika as you thought

WARNINGS: part 4, cussing, arguing, bad writing

it had now been 4 months since the jet night at ted’s. and you meant it when you said you didn’t want to know nika anymore. you did everything in your power to avoid her and to not think of her. and you were successful.. for the most part.

your season was over. finally. so now it was enjoying the rest of the school year, with ocasional practices of course but nothing you couldn’t handle. you were content with how your life was going now. one thing you did change over the course of these months was that you no longer went out every weekend like you used to. you stopped spontaneously hooking up with people. you were just enjoying the college life. and you were doing good.

so today you had a free day for the most part besides catching up on some homework. you were in your dorm enjoying your alone time when your phone buzzed. thinking nothing of it you check to see what the notification was. as you check your phone your stomach drops.

it was an unknown number. the messages stated ‘i need to talk to. please. it’s important. -nika’. how did she even get your number? you had no idea why she barely reached out now after 4 months of no contact. you were confused to say the least. you didn’t know what to do. your brain was telling you to ignore the message. you’re don’t with her. you don’t need her. but your heart was ted something else.

before overthinking it you sent a text back reading ‘okay.’ a simple response. your heart was practically beating out of your chest. why did you just do that?

what you didn’t know what that nika was freaking out that you had even replied in the first place. she was so sure that you weren’t going to. and to not keep you waiting so long she replied instantly ‘come to my dorm?’.

on your end you opened the message as fast as you could. ‘yeah, send the address.” simple. nika replied yet again ‘were in the same building. room 204.’ and with that message you were on your way. your mind was racing. you had no idea why you even accepted to this. you were done with her.. right? what could she possibly say you thought. and before you knew it you were at her door. but you hadn’t knocked for some reason. you couldn’t. you were nervous. eventually you knocked.

nika opened the door, shock written all over her face that you had actually agreed to talk to her. she stepped aside letting you in to her apartment. when you walked in you noticed every little thing about her dorm. she hadn’t changed. everything about her dorm reminded you of her old house and when you would go over. it made you feel uneasy.

“thank you for coming. i know you didn’t want to hear from me and you didn’t owe me anything but im glad you came.” nika stated. “uh would you like something to drink?” she asked after a few moments of silence. “i’m okay thank you” you replied. “okay well you can take a seat on the couch if you’d like” nika said as she sat down herself. you nodded and sat with a bit of distance between you two.

“why’d you ask me here nika?” you asked look at her. she sighed before she answered. “i just wanted to tell you the truth. i needed you to hear it even if we weren’t talking anymore.” she said. “okay.” you replied indicating her to keep going.

“when we hooked up, i didn’t cheat on my boyfriend. we we were on a break. we had this huge fight and decided to take a break. and when you saw us at the gym we had barely gotten back together. you weren’t just a quick fuck to me okay? you mean more than that to me.” nika said in a slight whisper. you stared at her in complete disbelief. what did she mean by you mean more to me? do you still mean something to her? before you could ask she started talking again. “i know im nothing to you now but i just wanted you to know that me leaving that day without saying goodbye was the worst thing i could have ever done. if i could go back i would.” she said. you looked at her and saw tears in her eyes. that sight made you want to drop everything and hug her.

but you didnt.

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. after all these years you finally heard what you wanted. you wanted to be with nika since the day you guys had become best friends. you waited for the day but it never came. was this the day it all turned around.

“nika i don’t know what to say.” you said honestly. she sighed looking down. as if that wasn’t the answer she was hoping for. “that’s okay. i just wanted you to know. i know you wanted nothing to do with me anymore so don’t worry i wont reach out to you again.” she said, her tone laced with sadness. but that’s not what you wanted.

“nika look, i love you. i always have and always will. but you hurt me so bad.” you said. “i know and i don’t know what else to say other than im sorry. but i can’t go on without you.” nika said tears finally slipping from her eyes. and in that moment you broke.

“come here.” you said with your arms open for her. she fell into you and it was like your bodies were meant for each other. perfectly molding together. and in that moment you knew you couldn’t never hate her. but working to where you were before was going to take time. and maybe even becoming more.

“nika i want to be with you i do. but it’s going to take time. we haven’t had a meaningful conversation in years.” you said. and she nodded while her head was on your chest. “we can start over.” you said. “no bad blood, nothing. we start from scratch and we build our way up back to being friends.” you said. nikas heart shattered with the word friends. but before she could speak you said “and maybe more than friends.”

and with that nika was happy. it didn’t have to be right now but as long as you didn’t hate her she was happy.

“i can work with that.” nika said with a cheesy smile.

A/N: this got kind of sloppy but happy ending kinda?? anyway this is the last part of this little series but i hope you guys enjoyed it!!

please leave me some requests 🙏