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nyxs2 · 3 days ago

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Ma Meilleure Ennemie (pt 12/?)

It's almost impossible not to be seduced by Silco's words, especially when they echo the conviction you thought you had overcome. Perhaps the truth is that you never changed; perhaps, deep down, you are just as monstrous as he is.

Silco x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Word Count: 9,2K

Warnings: smut, resolved sexual tension, fingerfucking, vaginal fingering, public sex, allusions to squirting, exhibitionism, possessive behavior, slight hints of reader's threats, Silco being a manipulator, allusions to kidnapping and torture, Silco being bad with feelings, Silco POV

Set before the events of Act 2 of the first season of Arcane.

Part 11

Powder.

For a moment, the world stopped.

The unmistakable blue hair was longer now, braided into two plaits that draped over her shoulders. Her face was slightly older, touched by the first signs of adolescence, but it still carried the undeniable traces of the little girl you once swore to protect. The same little girl you had watched from afar countless times, making sure she didn't get herself into trouble.

The past clashed with the present like a punch straight to the gut. You wanted to cry and throw up at the same time.

She looked about twelve, maybe thirteen now. The confident posture, the curious gaze—everything about her hit you like a slap to the face, leaving your defenses in ruins. You tried to swallow down the sudden rush of emotions, but your throat felt locked tight. You stood there, staring at her, lost in your own shock for longer than what could be considered normal.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

Her voice was clear and firm, but you didn't respond. You couldn't. You were frozen, your eyes locked onto this impossible vision.

Powder.

Every single detail about her yanked you into an avalanche of memories and emotions. The resolve you had rebuilt to start your search for this so-called Jinx, the simmering resentment and complicated feelings toward Silco—all of it suddenly felt insignificant. Nothing else seemed to matter anymore. Nothing except the fact standing right in front of you: She was alive.

Powder was alive.

And she was here.

"Sorry little one, what?"

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Powder repeated, tilting her head to the side, her braids swaying with the motion. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to remember something. "I know you. You're my dad's company."

The statement hit you like a punch—more precisely, a punch from Vander's cast-iron gauntlets. Dad. The word echoed in your head, churning something deep inside you.

"Dad?"

Your voice came out a pitch higher, shrill with sheer disbelief. That didn't make any sense. Dad? It couldn't be. The only figure you had ever associated with that title for her was Vander. Until you remembered a small detail, one that the shock had momentarily erased from your mind.

"You're talking about Silco?"

She nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and at that moment, you wanted to slam your head against the nearest wall. Even though you had already considered this possibility from the start, having it confirmed now was still a little unsettling.

That bastard Silco, the one turning your life upside down, messing with your thoughts, and taking up more and more space in your mind, was the guardian—or worse, the adoptive father—of the girl you had been searching for since returning to Zaun. It felt like the universe was conspiring to make your life even more complicated.

"Yeah, I keep him company... hm... we're friends?" The sentence came out awkwardly, your voice sounding much more like a clumsy question than a confident statement. Perfect. Now you looked like an idiot in front of the girl.

"Silco having friends?" She laughed—a loud, genuine sound that echoed through the space, making you even more uncomfortable. "That's a good one! So, you're heading to his office to keep him company again, huh? Is it like... a meeting?"

You furrowed your brows, tilting your head slightly as you finally stopped to analyze the situation as a whole. Was it just your imagination, or was this girl interrogating you?

"You could say that." you replied in a neutral tone, trying to sound casual.

"Hm..." The girl tilted her head, now looking you up and down with undisguised curiosity. "You're the prostitute."

If you weren't already shocked enough by the whole sequence of events, that sentence would have made your jaw hit the floor. However, your body still reacted. Your eyes widened, your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, your cheeks started to burn, and every inch of you desperately longed to dig a hole and bury yourself in it. Oh, great. Just great. Now even the kid knew you were sleeping with Silco. Perfect. Zaun might as well organize a whole procession in your honor at this point.

"Wait, do you even know what that word means?"

"Prostitute? Of course, I do! People pay you, and you keep them company. Simple." She shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world while you stood there, even more horrified. "Sevika told me."

"Oh, God..."

"How much do you charge? 'Cause Silco went crazy when you disappeared, so I'm guessing you must be pretty expensive." She took a few small steps toward you. "Come on, spill it. How much?"

Before you could open your mouth to respond—or do anything at all—a deep, unmistakable voice echoed through the room.

"Jinx."

You never, ever thought you'd be grateful for Silco's arrival, but there you were, letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of his imposing figure standing in the doorway. He was motionless, his face carrying that same cold, indifferent expression as always, but his eyes were locked onto the two of you.

"What did I say about interrogating my guests?"

"You said I wasn't supposed to do that. But I was curious!" Jinx crossed her arms, pouting defiantly. "I wanted to meet her somehow since you wouldn't even let me get close when she was with you."

"Jinx." His tone was harsher now, enough to make her step back, though she didn't lose that air of petulance. "Go to your lab and do something productive with your time, since you seem to have plenty of it to waste."

The girl huffed, casting one last look in your direction before leaving—almost as if she were engraving your face into her memory—muttering something about adults being "so boring."

When Powder's—no, Jinx's—footsteps finally faded down the corridor, the silence left behind felt heavy, suffocating. It was as if the air in the room had thickened, becoming almost impossible to breathe. You, who had been frozen in place until now, finally allowed yourself to meet his eyes. But Silco was already staring at you, his gaze locked onto yours in that way he always knew how to do.

There were so many things you wanted to say, sharp words ready at the tip of your tongue, and even more things you wanted to do to him. But none of them seemed to make sense anymore. Not after seeing Powder there, calling him father. Not after realizing what he meant to her. How you wished that insane theory had been wrong.

That girl had already lost a father once. And if you tried to take her away from Silco in any way, she would hate you until the end of time. As much as you wanted to protect her—from this place, from that damned manipulator who stirred such conflicting feelings in you—something about the thought of hurting Powder stopped you.

Suddenly, none of the plans you had spent sleepless nights crafting made sense anymore.

You had been so pessimistic about this whole Powder being Jinx thing that you half expected to be terribly wrong. But you were right.

"Come with me." Silco's voice shattered the tense silence lingering between you both. He sounded so casual. "I believe you came for a meeting."

It wasn't an invitation—it was an order. As always, he didn't wait for your response. He was already turning away, walking with slow, deliberate steps toward his office. But there was an insinuation in his words that you picked up on immediately. He had heard the entire conversation. He had been there, watching, as he always did—only stepping in when he deemed it necessary.

With a resigned sigh, you shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts before following him to the office door. The emotional rollercoaster of the day had drained your strength, but giving up wasn't an option. Not now.

Your steps were cautious, almost hesitant. You moved lightly, as if each movement could trigger a hidden trap, despite having entered this room countless times before. Walking into Silco's office always felt like stepping into a predator's den.

Silco said nothing when he entered. He went straight to his desk, rummaging through something without so much as a glance in your direction. Meanwhile, you remained near the door, your mind at war with itself. Part of you wanted to charge at him—accuse him, yell, demand answers. The other part wanted to simply wait, to absorb what was happening and decide the next move carefully.

The problem was, you no longer had a plan. Everything felt like it was crumbling beneath your feet, and now, all that was left was to improvise.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn't notice when he got closer. His presence was almost silent, like a whisper in the dark. When his hand lifted toward your face, your reaction was instinctive. You pulled back quickly, like a wild cat sensing a threat, your eyes locked onto him with a mix of distrust and surprise.

"You're bleeding."

It wasn't a question, nor a statement of concern. It was simply an observation, a fact he had noticed and was acknowledging. That's when you saw what he was holding. A white handkerchief, folded with precision, rested in his hand.

Your fingers brushed against your forehead, exactly where the metallic monkey had struck you. You felt the warm, damp surface, and when you pulled your hand back, you saw the red staining your fingertips. Curiously, you hadn't even realized you were bleeding, much less felt the cut open or the blood trickling down. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe the emotional turmoil was dulling the physical pain.

"I didn't know you liked playing nurse." you teased, attempting to ease the discomfort with a touch of sarcasm. Your eyes studied him briefly, trying to decipher the reason behind his gesture. It was unsettling. Silco—the man who never hesitated to get his hands bloody, both literally and metaphorically—was now standing there, offering to clean your wound.

"I don't want more blood staining my carpet." His voice was cold, razor-sharp. "That would be inconvenient."

You rolled your eyes despite the icy tone of his words. You knew it was a lie. If the only issue was blood on the carpet, he would have just tossed the handkerchief at you and been done with it, instead of bothering to clean the wound himself.

His touch was surprisingly gentle, and you felt your shoulders gradually relax. It was strange—unsettling, even—to have Zaun's most notorious crime lord tending to a superficial wound, one that, ironically, had been inflicted by the very child he had chosen to take in.

"That would be inconvenient, but deliberately hiding your daughter isn't." Your voice came out firm but measured, as if testing the limits. You knew Powder wasn't his daughter, but Silco didn't know that you knew. Keeping up the illusion of ignorance seemed like the safest choice for now.

He paused for a split second—almost imperceptibly—before continuing to dab the cloth against your skin.

"I believe I've already told you that there are things that do not concern you."

"Oh, of course." you shot back, a dry chuckle escaping your lips. "Because you're so good at keeping secrets. Nothing you do ever reaches the wrong ears, does it?"

The smile he gave you was barely perceptible but utterly devoid of warmth. More of a silent warning than an act of camaraderie. "Watch your words, dove. Some doors, once opened, cannot be closed."

You crossed your arms, ignoring the implicit threat. "And some questions, when avoided, only make the answers more obvious."

For a moment, silence settled over the room, so thick that you could hear both his breathing and your own. He resumed cleaning the wound with the same deliberate care, but something in the air had shifted. A new tension, heavier now, as if the two of you stood on opposite sides of a chessboard where every move had to be calculated with precision.

"She is none of your concern." Silco finally broke the silence, his voice low, nearly a whisper, yet weighted with finality.

"But I deserve to know." you countered, your voice carrying a boldness that bordered on reckless. "After all, I'm fucking her father."

The reaction was immediate. Silco's hand, which had been holding the cloth, pressed down harder than before, drawing an involuntary shudder from you. The pain was sharp, radiating through your body, and when you instinctively tried to pull away, his other hand was already in motion. Strong fingers clamped around your jaw, forcing you to stay still despite the throbbing discomfort. His gaze burned like liquid fire—freezing you in place even as a wave of heat crashed over you from the sheer force of his intimidation.

"I warned you to be careful with your words."

You finally fell silent. The pain and the implicit warning in his gestures were enough to shut your sharp tongue—at least for now. You knew you had crossed a line with your words, but something about the way he reacted made part of you want to push even further. Not out of pure provocation, but to understand just how far he was willing to go to protect what he held so dear.

The grip on your face gradually loosened, but not in a comforting way—it was deliberate, almost cruel, reinforcing his dominance over the situation. Even so, you forced yourself to remain quiet, swallowing the bitter taste of wounded pride as he finished tending to you with mechanical efficiency.

Your eyes studied him with curiosity. Silco had that neutral, almost cold expression, his jaw tense, his hands moving as naturally as breathing. It wasn't hard to imagine that he had cleaned blood countless times before—his own or someone else's. This wasn't new to him; it was routine.

When he finally stepped back, dropping the bloodstained cloth onto the worn wooden desk, the tension between you didn't fade. He exuded authority, even in silence. With a quiet grunt, he settled into his chair but didn't bother looking at you right away.

"Stay away from her." His voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade. No raised tone, no dramatics, yet it carried a weight that made it impossible to ignore. "I won't say it again."

"You think I'd be capable of doing anything to her?"

Before you even realized it, your steps had carried you closer. You stopped in front of the desk, leaning slightly over it, using the surface for support as you studied him. Silco lifted his chin to look at you, his heterochromatic eyes locked onto yours. That gaze was a mix of exhaustion and irritation, but above all, he didn't seem the least bit impressed by your boldness. There wasn't even a flicker of discomfort in his expression.

"If I thought you were a real threat, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

Before you could respond, he pulled the revolver from his holster with an unsettling calm, as if the motion was as casual as adjusting his tie. The weapon gleamed under the greenish light of the room, heavy and deadly, and he placed it on the desk with a sharp clack. The barrel was pointed directly at you—a tangible reminder of his quiet threat.

"She is off-limits. Understood?" His voice was unwavering. "So don't make me punish you for your insistence on this matter."

An image flooded your mind, vivid as if it were happening at that very moment. Silco in the shadows, watching. His eyes sharp and cold, finger always near the trigger, studying your every move as you interacted with Powder—no, with Jinx, as he preferred to call her now. It was evident that Jinx put him on the defensive. No matter what the two of you had built together—a contract, a twisted relationship, an intimacy that wavered between his absolute control and your calculated provocations. There were limits he would never let you cross.

Perhaps she was his only weakness, the one point where he allowed no concessions. And maybe, just maybe, that was precisely why he was so determined to draw that invisible line between you now.

For now, you decided to comply with the order. There was no need to raise suspicion—not yet, at least. Either way, reaching Powder without Silco knowing seemed more like a matter of opportunity than skill. A new plan was beginning to take shape in your mind: make the girl trust you enough to... well, what came after that was still a mystery. That was a problem for the future. Right now, the focus was on softening Silco's suspicion, regaining the privileges he had stripped away, and paving the way for your next move.

"How was it with Singed?"

Silco's voice cut through the silence as he picked up a document from a neatly stacked pile on his desk. His tone was so casual it almost made it seem like the previous conversation hadn't happened.

"Did he say anything different?"

"No." You replied, stepping away from the desk. With a heavy sigh, you pulled out a chair and sat down, hands resting on the armrests as you observed Silco. "For how much longer will I have to keep seeing him?"

"For as long as necessary."

He didn't even lift his eyes to you, his long, precise fingers flipping through the pages before him with an exaggerated concentration—almost as if he were deliberately ignoring your presence.

He knew exactly how to get under your skin.

"But—"

"No buts."

Silco cut you off before you could finish the sentence, his voice firm yet calm, like the sound of a door closing with a muffled slam.

You felt your teeth clench. His response was sharp and final, and the obvious disinterest as he remained buried in his paperwork was almost a provocation. Frustration mingled with the tension already hanging in the air, and you had to control yourself not to let it show just how much it bothered you.

"This is getting ridiculous." you muttered, more to yourself, but deliberately loud enough for him to hear.

This time, Silco lifted his eyes. For a moment, they gleamed with something between exhaustion and annoyance, and you realized you had managed to get a reaction out of him.

"Ridiculous would be allowing you to continue questioning my decisions." His reply was quiet but carried the weight of a veiled threat. "You're here to serve a purpose, not to negotiate the terms of it."

You opened your mouth to argue, but something in his gaze made you hesitate. It wasn't fear—you weren't foolish enough to fear him in that way—but there was a line that even you knew better than to cross. Besides, the fact that he had used the word "purpose" made you feel strange... though irritated would be the best way to describe your current emotions.

So instead of retorting, you simply leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms. "As you wish." you murmured, unwillingly, but making it clear that you weren't satisfied.

It felt like an eternity passed in that uncomfortable silence between you. The only sound was the breathing of both of you, an almost synchronized melody, but heavy with a tension that filled the room like toxic gas. Silco didn't look at you directly, keeping his focus on his work. You had clashed before—many times—and ever since you had woken from the coma your own body had imposed on you, these exchanges had become more frequent. However, something had been different in the past few days. Colder. Distant.

In fact, ever since that morning when the two of you had slept together, he seemed to have closed himself off, and it had remained that way for the past three weeks. It was as if something inside him had cracked—or hardened. He no longer touched you the way he used to, nor were there the sharp, biting remarks that had once been a part of your dynamic. Even when he announced that your privileges had been revoked, he did it as if he were informing just another subordinate.

You didn't fight the decision at the time. There was no point in waging a war with a predetermined ending.

Now, everything was methodically controlled. He summoned you to his office, yes, but the interaction was cold, almost clinical. You spent hours by his side, yet you felt more like a piece of furniture than someone he shared even the slightest warmth with.

Maybe he was still angry. At you, at everything. When Silco was angry, everyone felt it. His rage was a living presence, infecting any space he stepped into. It was impossible not to notice his foul mood, especially because it made him unbearably meticulous and unbearably critical.

Of course, deep down, you knew it was your fault. If you hadn't run away, none of this would've happened. But you didn't regret it. Not one bit. Why should you? There was no room for regret in your mind. Still, something inside you longed for this phase to pass.

You wouldn't admit it, not even under torture, but you missed it. You missed the Silco who responded to your provocations, who played along with that spark of something you couldn't quite name. You missed the Silco who looked at you with those eyes full of intention, leaving the impression that, no matter how cold and unpleasant he was, he wasn't completely impenetrable.

You shook your head slightly, pushing the thought away. No, you didn't miss it. And you would keep denying it until the very idea was suffocated by the same oppressive silence filling the room.

The sound of his sigh cut through the silence, long and heavy, as if carrying the weight of something too burdensome for the world to bear. It was the only sign that he was finally giving in to the tension accumulating in the air. Then, Silco slowly turned his chair, his narrowed eyes fixed on you. That gaze was nearly unreadable, but you could sense an intent behind it—something he had kept buried for weeks.

"I believe you should know who ordered your kidnapping." His voice had lost some of its usual harshness, softening just enough to sound like a command disguised as a request. "I want the names."

Ah, of course, there was also that.

All these weeks since you woke up, he had never brought it up. Never pressed you for information or questioned your involvement. It was unsettling, actually. You had expected a meticulous interrogation, sharp questions about who you were, why this had happened, and who was behind it. But he did none of that.

Silco had treated the kidnapping as an insignificant detail, almost as if... he already knew something about it. About you.

That thought had always lingered in your mind, but you never dared to voice it. Still, the lack of distrust only made the situation more unsettling.

"You won't be able to reach them." Your voice was firm—not just a statement, but a fact. "You have no power in Piltover, Silco."

As expected, he didn't seem remotely irritated by your defiance. On the contrary, there was a predatory calm in his eyes, as if he were already two steps ahead, anticipating your every reaction. He rose from his chair with that calculated elegance only he could manage, the sound of his boots against the floor filling the space as he approached.

When he stopped beside you, Silco leaned in slightly, tilting your chin upward with the touch of two fingers. A light touch, yet one that exuded authority—though, somehow, it still held a trace of gentleness. He tilted his head, his eyes piercing into yours as if he could rip the answers straight from your soul.

"Don't burden that pretty head of yours with such details. Just give me the names."

The tone was undeniably authoritative, but there was something in the way he spoke—that unwavering confidence, as if every word was a promise of an inevitable future—that made you hesitate. You stepped back slightly, not out of fear, but out of instinct, like someone who recognized they were standing before something far greater than they could control.

You knew Silco ruled Zaun with an iron fist. His eyes were everywhere, his spies in every alley, and his orders were rarely disobeyed. But Piltover was a different story. You knew that, you were sure of it... or at least you thought you were.

"There was a secretary, maybe an assistant, I don't know. Cayden. From what I remember, he was sponsored by the Hoskel family."

"Anyone else?"

"He was the only one in a higher position that I knew of."

"Good." Silco nodded, as if he had already calculated everything in his mind, and turned calmly toward the window, hands clasped behind his back. "You're dismissed."

His words set off an alarm inside you, an immediate sense of danger that made you rise from your chair before you even realized it. "You're not planning something, are you?" Your voice came out sharper than you intended, but he didn't seem to notice—or care enough to respond.

Silence. A crushing silence.

You clenched your fists, abandoning any attempt to keep your composure. "You do know the Hoskel house is on the Piltover Council, don't you? If you try anything, it'll lead to retaliation. Zaun doesn't stand a chance against Piltover, and we both know it!"

Still, Silco didn't turn around. He remained by the window, staring down at the streets below as if his vision alone could shape the future. But you saw the way his shoulders tensed slightly at your words. He wasn't the type to tolerate doubt about his authority or power. No. He truly believed that Zaun not only could stand against Piltover but that it would one day surpass it.

Great. Not only was he egotistical, but he was delusional too.

"I said: you're dismissed."

You glared at him, hesitating for a moment. Every fiber of your being told you to push further, to insist—but deep down, you knew he wouldn't change his mind. Not now. So, against your will, you turned and walked toward the door, trying to contain the anger burning inside you. But just before leaving, you stopped, your hand hovering over the doorknob.

"This isn't your fight, so think carefully about what you're willing to risk for it." You paused, letting the weight of your words linger in the air. "You've already done enough damage to Zaun."

Silco's Pov━━━━━━━༺༻━━━━━━━

Silent treatments, in general, were a foolish strategy with Silco.

First, because ignoring someone like him was practically suicidal. Second, because for a silent treatment to be even remotely effective, Silco would have to actually want to interact, to feel the urge to speak, or at the very least, to sense a need to break the silence. And that was nearly impossible. Silco wasn't known for being friendly, much less for enjoying idle conversation. He simply didn't have the time or the patience for it.

In the life he had chosen, friendships were dangerous luxuries—sharp knives that could pierce his back at the first opportunity. He knew this better than anyone. Trust was not something Silco handed out carelessly. Not anymore.

But with her, the rules seemed different.

It had been three days since their last encounter in his office, when the atmosphere had taken a tense turn. She had chosen a childish, prideful approach—complete denial of any words or gestures directed at him. And strangely enough, it worked. Silco, who would normally ignore such behavior without a second thought, found himself stewing over her silence as if it were a new kind of torture.

Not that he intended to do anything to fix the situation.

Both of them were far too stubborn to be the first to give in, each waiting for the other to break. Silco knew she was expecting something more—perhaps an apology, or at the very least, a kinder gesture than the way he had been treating her for the past few days. And maybe... maybe he should offer her that.

But how could he possibly mask his discontent?

He was already grappling with his damn confusing feelings ever since that morning in his bed, the unease of his men regarding her presence, and now this unexpected meeting. Everything he had meticulously planned had been derailed by an encounter he had worked so hard to avoid—her and Jinx, face to face.

The interaction had been brief, almost insignificant, yet it left an undeniable mark.

What truly caught his attention wasn't her behavior itself, but the way her shock seemed to overflow—something disproportionate to the situation. It was natural for her to be surprised, maybe even uncomfortable, but there was something in that look.

It wasn't just curiosity or apprehension. It was as if she were standing before someone she knew—someone from her past. Her expression was heavy with recognition. A recognition that made no sense.

Silco had done his homework, as he always did. He knew every detail of her past that could be known. She had no connection to anyone in Jinx's circle—not now, not before. Their worlds had never crossed, at least not in any way he had access to. And yet, there was something in the way she had reacted that shattered all of that.

As if she were staring at a ghost.

Silco didn't like gaps. He didn't like unanswered questions. He knew that information was the most powerful weapon, and in Zaun, where alliances were fragile and betrayals abundant, knowing more than others was the only way to stay alive. But for now, he set the questions aside. There was still time to investigate and uncover whatever the hell that woman was hiding—because, clearly, she was hiding something.

For now, however, he had other priorities. Like, for example, planning a kidnapping.

Marcus, as always, had hesitated. It was almost pathetic how much that man needed to be reminded of his place—and, more importantly, of the place he could lose. Silco knew exactly which buttons to press. He made sure to refresh the anxious Enforcer's memory about his imminent promotion to Sheriff, a position Marcus desired almost as much as he feared losing it.

Marcus's rise had been carefully orchestrated by Silco, and the thread holding him up was thin. Just as Silco had lifted him, he could just as easily let him fall.

The veiled—yet undeniably clear—threat was enough. Marcus accepted the orders reluctantly, but Silco knew the man would comply. He always did. He was the kind of man whose ambition was matched only by his fear, and Silco knew how to exploit both with precision. Now, it was just a matter of waiting. In a few days, Marcus would have information about this Cayden, and then the next move could be made.

The second priority stood before him, leaning against the railing of his room's balcony. She seemed oblivious to his presence, her gaze fixed on the frantic movement of The Last Drop below. The pulsing lights and muffled voices filled the space, but she remained detached, lost in her own thoughts. She didn't even turn to acknowledge him when he entered.

She was doing it on purpose, of course.

Silco slipped a hand into his pocket, fingers brushing against the cold metal of the piece he had brought with him. It was a fine, delicate chain, made of pure gold, its links so small and flawless they almost seemed unreal under the light. The pendant, a small drop with a translucent lilac stone, caught the light in soft shades of purple and pink. Under the neon glow of the bar, the stone's shimmer seemed to pulse, almost resembling the hue of Shimmer itself.

Silco moved closer, his steps silent. When he stopped behind her, his chest nearly brushed against her back, and he could feel the slight tremor in her breathing. She didn't turn, but he noticed the subtle way her shoulders tensed.

With a careful movement, Silco lifted the chain, his fingers working with precision as he draped it around her neck.

He fastened the clasp with ease, but he didn't pull his hands away immediately. His fingers lingered near her skin, the warmth of it radiating toward him as the soft brush of his knuckles grazed her nape. There was something about that closeness—something intimate, something electric. He felt her body tense, as if she were fighting against the urge to yield to his touch. And he knew he could break that resistance.

But for now, he held back.

"Buying me with jewelry won't work, Silco."

"I know that." he replied, a faint smile playing on his lips—one that carried more intent than words. "But I made you break your silence, didn't I?"

When she didn't retort, Silco slowly moved to stand beside her on the balcony. He leaned against the railing with his arms crossed, his gaze drifting over the view below. Like her, he observed the club beneath them. It was a busy night.

Drink orders were being served at an impressive speed; groups formed and dissolved as people drank, smoked, or indulged in Shimmer. Some danced in the midst of the crowd, while others leaned against the walls, conversing in hushed tones that couldn't rise above the pounding music and flashing neon lights.

To most, it was the image of unrestrained chaos. To Silco, it was organized—and profitable.

"You know, a long time ago, this place was just a bar." he said, his voice low, tinged with a nostalgia so faint it was almost imperceptible. "Nothing special. Just a place for people to drink and forget their troubles for a while."

Silco leaned against the railing, his elbows resting on the polished metal, his gaze fixed on the restless crowd below. The music filled every corner, pulsing, reverberating—like a second heartbeat.

"It was a different time, a different world." he murmured, his voice low, weighted with something that almost sounded like longing. "But it had that—"

"Familiar feeling?" her voice cut in, finishing the thought, and Silco turned to her, slightly surprised.

He nodded slowly, acknowledging her insight.

"Vander had that feeling."

For a moment, something shifted in her posture. Her eyes seemed to lose focus, as if her mind had been pulled into a distant memory.

"You knew Vander?" Silco asked, his voice curious but laced with caution.

She gave a humorless, almost bitter smile. "Who didn't? He was the Protector of Zaun."

"I'll admit, Vander protected Zaun in his own way." Silco spoke like someone who had already chewed and digested every word before letting it out. "But he let our city stagnate, dove. He kept us trapped in a place where we could never evolve, never rise above the filth and misery we were forced to live in. He allowed Zaun to remain in Piltover's shadow, clinging to an empty promise of peace, one that could be broken in an instant if those above decided it."

Silco didn't look at her immediately, but he noticed the exact moment she turned her head, finally facing him for real. He could feel her gaze—a mixture of irritation and something else, perhaps a sliver of understanding. It wasn't the kind of attention he sought, but it would do.

"Vander did what he thought was right." she said, firm but lacking the vehemence that might have made the defense stronger. "He kept the Enforcers away."

"A temporary solution to a long-term problem."

He countered with cutting precision, leaning against the railing. His fingers drummed against the metal surface for a brief moment before stopping abruptly. He looked down at the sea of people in his club, moving as one pulsing, living organism.

"Humans have this instinctive fear of what they can't fully control." Silco continued, his voice taking on a near-philosophical tone. "Zaun isn't a city that bends to standards. It shapes itself according to necessity. It evolves, adapts. And that is exactly what makes it so unique... and so untamable."

Silco let a smile slip. Subtle, almost imperceptible—but he knew she would notice. She always noticed. Ever observant, she picked up the smallest details, even when she pretended not to care. He had meant every word he spoke. This wasn't a rehearsed speech or some manipulation; it was conviction. It was that certainty that kept him standing, even in a world that seemed determined to crush him. He believed in it the way a dreamer believes in an impossible dream.

"That's why those above treat us as unworthy of their attention. It's not just arrogance. It's strategy. It's their way of cementing their own fear. Because the moment they acknowledge us as a threat, something shifts. That idea spreads, grows, seeps into the fabric of society. They know it. They know that all it takes is a single spark to turn dust into flame."

It might have been just an impression, but there was something in her eyes that Silco noticed immediately. Beneath the mask of indifference she insisted on wearing, there was a glimmer—subtle, yet unmistakable. A flicker of something he recognized as interest.

"So, they ignore us. Treat us as irrelevant, invisible." he continued, advancing carefully, like someone who had just discovered fertile ground. "And little by little, that idea takes root inside us. We start to believe it. Believe that we are small, insignificant. That we are incapable of changing the world. And so, we accept the role they assign us."

Maybe he had touched something within her. Not much—just a spark, tiny, almost insignificant. But sparks, in the right hands, could turn into devastating wildfires. And Silco had always known how to wield the right words at the right moment.

He moved again. Silco positioned himself behind her, claiming the space with the ease of someone who already knew it was his by right. His hand slid to her waist—firm, but unhurried. The other reached for her chin, gently forcing her to look down at the club below once more.

"If a simple bar can change this much..." Silco's voice was low, almost a whisper, right at her ear. "Imagine what a city could become. Our people deserve more than just scraping by on the margins of what they could be, don't you think?"

He paused, letting his words hang in the air like a devil whispering temptations.

"We are a threat, dove."

She took a moment before responding.

"Peace imposed by force crumbles within days, Silco."

"Ah, but that's where Piltover, and you, are mistaken." Silco's voice dripped like smooth poison. "Peace is not the end. It's a convenient illusion they peddle to maintain control. What builds a lasting future isn't forced peace, it's well-cultivated fear. Piltover only respects what it cannot crush. They only yield to what makes them tremble."

Silco leaned in even closer, his lips brushing lightly against the curve of her ear. He noticed immediately how her skin reacted, the way it prickled under his proximity. It made him smile. Not an ordinary smile, but that slight curve of his lips—pure triumph.

"When they look at Zaun and see not a shadow, but something that threatens everything they have, that's when they'll recognize our true strength. We are not a dream of equality. We are the nightmare that will drag them from their throne."

The silence between them was filled with the music of the club. She was thinking, perhaps analyzing the logic in his words.

"Piltover is a fortress. A direct fight would be suicide."

Ah, she still resisted—at least in words. But her body, well, that was a different story. He felt it when she leaned in, the movement almost imperceptible, as if unconscious. The warmth radiating from her was tangible, a sharp contrast to the cold tone of her words.

Silco knew how to read the signs; her internal conflict was obvious. He could see how her morality wavered on a tightrope, caught between what she believed was right and the irresistible pull of his vision—of him.

Silco let his lips glide along her neck, tracing a slow, deliberate path. He placed light kisses and left marks where his teeth grazed the soft skin.

"And what's your suggestion, dove?"

She swallowed hard, the sound almost inaudible, but Silco felt the tension in her body when he pressed his lips against a strategic spot—right where her heartbeat pulsed the strongest. The way it quickened made him smirk against her skin. With one hand, he pulled her closer, eliminating any space between them.

"There's something both cities have in common." she finally said, her voice slightly unsteady but firm enough to catch his attention. "Their system of government. Piltover's councilors are the counterparts of Zaun's chem-barons. Both maintain their power through greed, through control. If you want to take Piltover, the only way is to destroy them. From the inside out."

Silco's eyes gleamed with interest. He pulled his lips away from her skin, but not before leaving a very visible mark there. His hand, however, remained firm on her waist, anchoring her in place.

"Elaborate."

"If you were to die, Zaun would fall into chaos. The barons would devour each other in an endless war for the position you left behind. People would be lost in that frenzy of violence, some driven by fear of dying, others by the thirst to kill. All of them desperately searching for something, a symbol, an idea that could give them hope."

The hand that had once held her chin now trailed down slowly, exploring the contours of her body, fingers tracing along her figure with a calmness that felt out of place for the feverish moment they were in. Silco felt it when she tilted her head back, granting him access as she took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.

"And?"

"And then, someone would become that symbol. It wouldn't matter whether it was through peace or through fear. They would become something for people to believe in, an icon, an idea. And ideas..." she paused, her eyes fluttering shut, her lips parting just enough for a quiet sigh to escape. "Ideas are stronger than any power you could ever hold in your hands."

He moved closer, pressing her body against the railing of the balcony. The tension between them was palpable—every movement, every ragged breath filling the space like a silent duel. Her head tilted back even further as his lips found her neck once more. She let out a deep sigh, her fingers tightening around the cold metal railing as if it were the only thing keeping her anchored.

"Control the masses." she whispered, as if handing him a truth she knew he couldn't ignore. "Only then will you have your throne."

Silco's hand paused, his fingers hovering just a hairsbreadth away from the hem of her skirt, the anticipation of his touch a palpable, throbbing ache in the air between them. His other hand slid up her side, his palm cupping the soft swell of her breast, his thumb brushing teasingly over the hardened peak of her nipple through the fabric of her top. Silco could feel the way her heart raced beneath his touch, could hear the way her breathing grew more and more ragged with each passing second.

He nipped at her earlobe, his teeth tugging on the delicate flesh, his tongue soothing the sting with a slow lick.

"How sure are you of this, dove?"

At the same time, Silco's hand slid a fraction of an inch lower, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of her skirt, the tips brushing against the bare, vulnerable skin of her thigh. He could feel the heat of her flesh, the soft, silken texture that made him crave more.

"More than you think."

Silco felt a surge of triumph as he noticed her legs shifting, her thighs parting slightly to grant him access. It was a small concession, a subtle invitation. He didn't hesitate, his fingers sliding further beneath her skirt, his fingers trailing over the smooth, supple flesh until they reached the apex of her legs. He could feel the heat radiating from her core, could sense the way her body trembled and ached for his touch. And as he slipped his fingers beneath the lace of her panties, Silco groaned at the feel of her, hot and slick and ready for him.

"Where did you learn such...things?" Slowly, almost teasingly, he traced the outline of her slit through the fabric. "Such dangerous, subversive ideas about power and control? Tell me, who put these notions in that clever, wicked head of yours?"

"At the Institute."

Her voice came out slurred, as if plucked from some distant corner of her already foggy mind. He didn't interrupt, nor did he rush her. He knew the value of well-placed silence.

"Piltover..."

She finished, her voice almost trailing off at the end. The answer hung in the air like an involuntary confession, and Silco felt the impact of it like an electric current running down his spine. Silco made a low, approving sound in the back of his throat as she blurted out her response, her guard clearly lowered by the haze of lust that clouded her mind. He filed away the information for later use.

He pushed the scrap of lace aside, slowly, almost reverently, Silco slid his fingers through her clit. He could feel the way her body clenched and fluttered around the sudden intrusion, could sense the way she struggled not to grind herself down against his palm, to ride his hand like a wanton creature in heat.

But even as he pleasured her, even as he felt her body start to tense and coil around him, Silco couldn't shake the dark curiosity that gnawed at him. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

"And what other things did you learn at that... Institute, dove?" he breathed, punctuating his question with a particularly hard, deep thrust of his fingers.

"I... I don't remember..." Her voice came out broken, a barely audible whisper, as her hips began to move against Silco, as if seeking an instinctive rhythm, something she couldn't control. "Everything was confusing..."

Then she turned her face toward him, her eyes red and bright, as if holding back tears she wasn't sure she wanted to let fall. The pleasure evident on her face seemed intertwined with something else—something deeper, darker. It was regret, he realized. Not the kind of regret that came from conscious choices, but the kind that grew from wounds that never quite healed.

"Please." she begged, her voice shaking. "I don't want to remember this."

For a moment, Silco didn't answer. He just watched her, his eyes roaming over her face, and he recognized that look, that mixture of pleasure and pain. It was all too familiar—he'd carried it so many times himself over the years. "You don't want to remember." he murmured, his voice low, like a secret shared only between the two of them. "But running away from it won't erase what happened." His tone wasn't consoling. It wasn't gentle, but it wasn't cruel either. It was... direct. Ruthlessly honest. "However I can help you forget, at least for now."

He brought his fingers to his mouth, making a show of licking them clean, of savoring the taste of her arousal on his tongue, a heady, intoxicating blend of sweet and salt and something uniquely, devastatingly her. Silco groaned softly, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savored the taste, committing it to memory.

Then, he plunged his fingers back inside her, driving them deep and hard, the way he knew she needed, the way that made her cry out, a raw, primal sound that echoed through the night air. The balcony seemed to spin around them, the world fading away until there was nothing but the slick, obscene sound of Silco's fingers plunging into her dripping core, nothing but the way her body jerked and shuddered, nothing but the way her breath came in short, sharp gasps and ragged, broken cries.

"Remember, dove..." he breathed, punctuating his words with a particularly hard, deep thrust. "We're still in public, still out here where anyone could see..." He punctuated his warning with a slow, deliberate circle of his thumb against her aching, swollen clit. "All it would take is for someone to glance this way, to catch a glimpse of what I'm doing to you, and they'd know..."

The idea of being caught, of putting on a public spectacle with his dove seemed torturously delicious. But even as he reveled in the forbidden thrill, Silco knew he had to be cautious, this sight of her was for his eyes only. So with a herculean effort, he forced himself to slow down, to temper the wild, reckless pace of his fingers with a more measured, deliberate rhythm.

"Shh... We don't want to give the crowd a show, now do we? No, this..." he breathed, his words a dark, sinful purr. "This is just for you and me. Our little secret." He nipped at her neck, his teeth tugging on the flesh gently, his tongue soothing the sting with a slow lick. "Now be a good girl, and keep quiet for me, hmm?"

Silco let out a low, dark chuckle as he watched she bring her hand to her mouth, her fingers pressing against her lips in a desperate bid to muffle the wanton moans and whimpers that threatened to spill out. Even if the music was loud, and the people below them were completely oblivious, there was no guarantee that the noises wouldn't attract the attention of other people.

But Silco was not a man to rest on his laurels, to simply revel in the fruits of his labor without pushing further, without demanding more. No, he wanted to see just how far he could go, how close he could take her to the limit. With that in mind, Silco began to move his fingers with a newfound intensity, his hand pumping and thrusting and curling inside her with a fierce, relentless rhythm. He could feel her walls clenching and fluttering around him, could sense the way her body tensed and coiled.

And then, just as her eyes began to roll back in her head, just as her breath started to come in short, desperate gasps, Silco found it. That specific spongy, ridged spot. Silco angled his fingers just so, curling and stroking and rubbing against that spot. At the same time, the palm of his hand rubbed against her clit, always keeping up the rhythm.

He could feel her body tensing, her muscles locking, her legs in a failed attempt to close—pinning his wrist to her thighs, and her trying to pull her body away from his touch. Silco felt her flying over the edge into a mind-shattering, body-wracking climax.

Her scream of ecstasy was muffled by her own hand, her eyes squeezing shut as a gush of her hot, fragrant arousal flooded out around Silco's plunging fingers, soaking his hand, dripping down to splatter on the balcony floor below. Her body convulsed and shuddered, her hips bucking and grinding against Silco's palm as wave after wave.

But even as Silco revealed in his victory, he was not so cruel as to let her collapse in a heap on the cold, hard balcony floor. No, he gathered her limp, satiated body into his arms, cradling her against his chest, almost like a bride and taking her into the room to lay her on his bed. He would deal with the mess on his balcony later.

"Rest now." Silco murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble as he brushed a strand of sweat-damp hair from his forehead. "You've had a long day, and an even longer... night."

[...]

She had been growing more compliant with each passing week. Not in an obvious way, of course, but Silco recognized patterns better than anyone. It was subtle—the way her tone had lost some of its bite, how she no longer recoiled immediately at his orders, even the way her gaze held less defiance. He knew it was all part of a strategy. She was cunning, deceptive when she needed to be, and she knew how to play the game just as well as he did.

And yet, he had loosened her leash again.

There was a cruel logic to his decision—it was easier to keep the prey off guard when it believed itself free. If she truly wanted to escape, Silco knew there wasn't much he could do. Escorts, guards, traps—none of it would hold her. He had witnessed her skill before. So rather than force the situation, he simply returned the freedom they had initially agreed upon.

A month later, he knew he had made the right choice.

Of course, he never stopped watching. Carelessness wasn't in his nature, even when he made it seem otherwise. The guards' reports came in frequently, detailing her movements. Always out of her room, always walking around, observing her surroundings with an unusual attentiveness. Sometimes, she sat at the bar for long stretches, as if waiting for someone—or something. It was understandable, he admitted to himself. She had been kidnapped. Someone in her position would naturally carry a heightened sense of paranoia. Maybe that was what fed her restless energy.

But Silco knew it wouldn't last.

Not with Cayden in his hands.

Tracking him down had been a tedious task, but Marcus, as always, proved his usefulness. Memorizing his routine had been easy—he was predictable, a creature of habit. When the right opportunity presented itself, Silco hadn't hesitated to send a few of his men after him. The timing was chosen with precision—a moment of vulnerability, where any resistance would be futile.

But there was no resistance. He didn't fight, didn't beg, didn't even try to run. He simply surrendered.

That gave Silco pause. Either the man had seen this coming and accepted his fate, or—more likely—he had been instructed to let it happen. A sacrificial pawn on the board.

It didn't matter. What mattered was that Silco had a narrow window of time to deal with the situation. And, as always, he already had a plan. The incident would be framed as a botched kidnapping—an unavoidable clash with the enforcers, where both the victim and the kidnappers would perish. A tragic but clean ending.

It was then, in the midst of these thoughts, that Silco noticed Sevika's presence beside him.

Silco stood at the top of the staircase, leaning casually against the railing, but his gaze was fixed on a particular point. She had been sitting at one of the tables for about half an hour, a glass resting beside her, untouched since it had been set down. She was talking to the bartender, who was busy cleaning the floor nearby. She seemed at ease, almost relaxed.

And there was one detail Silco did not overlook—she was still wearing the necklace he had given her.

"He's not going to talk." Sevika stated, extinguishing the tip of her cigarette against the sole of her boot. The action was casual, almost indifferent, as if this were just another day in her life—and, in a way, it was. "That guy's too resilient to break. But he confirmed he was the middleman."

This only reinforced what Silco had already suspected: the boy had been discarded, nothing more than a pawn sacrificed by the true mastermind. A scapegoat loyal to a master who didn't even care about him.

"It's impressive how loyal he is." Silco mused. "Even knowing that keeping quiet means his death. Blind loyalty or stupidity? Hard to say." He paused, taking another drag from his cigar and exhaling a lazy coil of smoke that drifted up to the ceiling. "Either way, he's of no use to us if he stays silent."

"You want me to get rid of him, or do you want to handle it yourself?"

"Neither you nor I. This death is not ours to claim."

"Then who will?"

Instead of answering with words, Silco raised his cigar and used it to discreetly gesture in the direction he wanted Sevika to look. She frowned, clearly confused, before turning toward where he indicated, her gaze slowly traveling until it landed on the figure still seated at the table.

His dove didn't seem to realize she was the subject of the conversation, but her head tilted slightly in Silco's direction, as if sensing the weight of his stare. And when their eyes met, she raised an eyebrow. The gesture was subtle, a silent question—what do you want? Why are you looking at me like that?

So dangerously unaware of what he was planning.

"She will."

Part 13

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I would be easily manipulated by him… By the way, did you know that the color purple has many meanings, including royalty, luxury, creativity, and mystery. It can also symbolize power, ambition, and independence. Just an addendum, Reader is not a completely good person, but I think you already knew that. So wait for the next chapters, there will be changes in our sweet dove... My classes are back, so let's hope I can keep up with the chapter frequency.

↓ ┊ TAG LIST ┊ ↓

@heidiland05

@defmxl

@rubyoff1cal

@silcoisatan

@edynmeyer1

@metamorphoserequiem

@casualunknownrunaway

@qlovalova

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#silco x reader #silco x you #arcane silco #reader insert #arcane fanfic #arcane #minors dni #no beta we die like silco #smut

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caitvisgirl · 3 days ago

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Loser!Ellie headcanons

Contains: smut, fluff, sub!ellie, overstim strap use (e receiving), oral (e receiving) lmk if there's more

Writers note: this is my first post, ignore any spelling errors, my requests are open also not my best writing so don't judge

SFW

Loser!Ellie gets flustered whenever a pretty girl talks to her.

Loser!Ellie was super confused when you approached her for the first time, cuz you were so pretty and you were talking to her.

Loser!Ellie turned scarlet when you asked for her number, and literally asked you if you were pranking her, you had to tell her multiple times it wasn't a prank and that you actually just wanted her number

Loser!Ellie went to your first date wearing baggy jeans and a dino t-shirt.

Loser!Ellie did NOT know how to kiss, so your first kiss was super embarrassing, sloppy, and just terrible. You thought it was adorable, but she was REALLY embarrassed

Loser!Ellie cannot handle compliments, if you call her cute, or pretty, she immediately turns a bright red color and will not keep eye contact with you for a good ten minutes

Loser!Ellie gets flustered when you call her baby, darling, dear, and really any petname

Loser!Ellie worships you however she can, showering you with compliments. All. Damn. Day. She would literally let you step on her hands so you wouldn't have to step on the same ground as other human beings.

NSFW

Loser!Ellie admitted to you, the first time you slept over that she has never had sex, you didn't mind. It was cute, how she turned red after the confession. You could clearly see, she was a bottom.

When you went down on her for the first time, she couldn't take it, in a matter of minutes she came undone, you weren't satisfied with how fast she came. So, you kept going, lapping at her already puffy clit. She was getting overstimulated, overwhelmed by the pleasure you were giving her. She was saying your name like a prayer. She was clearly a loud one. One thing you've noticed, everytime she cums, she makes this squeeling sound. You find it adorable, she finds it embarrassing.

Loser!Ellie could not take your fingers. She just needed one finger, and she was done. She would already cum at the small movements you made with your fingers. Curling them inside her, just to hit that spongey part that made her scream your name, time and time again.

If Loser!Ellie couldn't take your fingers, she could definitely not take your strap, first time you took it out, she actually gasped. "Shit, that's big. That's supposed to go in me?" She said, eyed wide. "If you're not ready, we can just do something else, baby." you'd say. She shook her head and turned scarlet at the petname "No, no. I wanna try it."

She was laying back on the bed, staring at you, while you fastened the harness around your hips. The red silicone hanging there. You didn't wanna slam into her right away and hurt her, so, of course, you gently warmed her up, teasing her, making her a whiny mess, you'd rub, up and down on her bare thigh. Going higher everytime, until you'd reach her dino boxers (don't know you you noticed but she loved dinos.) you'd rub her through them, going real fucking slow. She'd turn into a whiny mess "baby, please- ngghh."

You'd take off her boxers, and throw them across the room. Now rubbing her bare clit, then finally, slipping your fingers into her soaking cunt. She'd whine and moan your name, really loudly. You'd slowly stretch her out, curling your three fingers right into her. Until she was ready to take the strap, she had already cum a few times here. You'd tease her with the tip, rubbing it between her folds. She'd whine "baby, please put it-" before she could finish her sentence you'd put it in. The friction against your clit already making you whimper softly. Ellie was already overstimulated, with all the times she came. You thrust into her "nghh- ahh- babyy!!" She'd whine loudly for you. You'd thrust faster, hitting the sweet spot. She came, over and over again, she couldn't hold it in. "Shhhh, baby, it's okay. C'mon, be a good girl for me and hold it in." You'd cooed. She would blush and nod, "I'll try to." You'd thrust into her time and time again, letting out some grunts, huffs, and stuff like that. She, on the other hand was having a hard time trying to keep it in, she needed to cum again. The silicone grazed her g-spot everytime you'd thrust into her. "Nghhh- babyyy pleeaaaseee. I'll be such a good girl for you, please just let me cum- nghhh-" she'd whine for you, looking up at you with those big pleading eyes "ngghhh- okay baby, okay, cum for me. Be a good girl for me, and cum." And she did as she was told, her juices flowing onto your cock, and you whimpering at the friction of the strap against your clit. You came too, she thought your sounds and moans and just how you looked was so hot when you came, she was completely enamoured by you.

Loser!Ellie would ask to cuddle with you after doing it, burying her face into your chest and falling asleep peacefully.

#ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #the last of us #tlou #lesbian #wlw #headcanon #smut #fluff #sub ellie williams #overstim #smutty headcanons

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jokeroutsubs · 2 days ago

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[ENG SUB] JokerOutSubs x RADIOaktivno collab: Joker Out – Souvenir Pop (19.11.2024)

Audio + CC link here

On the 19th of November 2024, Bojan and Kris were guests of the RADIOaktivno podcast (Facebook, YouTube) with Boštjan Najžar to present and discuss every song from their new album, ‘Souvenir Pop’. This is our fifth collaboration with RADIOaktivno, as we also provided English subtitles for the following videos: ‘Umazane misli’ album presentation, 'Demoni’ album presentation, 'Gola' single presentation, and 'Šta bih ja' single presentation. Check them out if you havent yet!

Once again, many thanks to Boštjan from our team!

youtube

Credits: Transcript, review and subtitles by a member of JokerOutSubs, translation by @chaosofsmarty and TT katysmusic77, proofread by @flowerlotus8 and IG Gboleyn123.

Transcript below the cut 👇

‘Muzika za decu’

We're Joker Out and you're listening to RADIOaktivno.

Host: We heard 'Muzika za decu', a song by Joker Out from the album 'Souvenir Pop'. Kris in Bojan, welcome to RADIOaktivno, after about two years.

Kris: Hi, thank you for the invite.

Bojan: Hi, well it's nice to be back.

It's become a tradition of sorts, every two years we meet around Halloween, before November.

Bojan: Absolutely, we've been in your studio twice so far. That was, I believe, Nace's first interview as a new band member. Today it's just Kris and I, but we're also in a new environment, in Ljubljana.

Kris: It's also indicative of the fact that we always release new albums in autumn, so... Yeah, we had one... we released the first one in October, the second one at the end of August, the start of September, and this one in November.

So you're very fond of autumn.

Kris: I think we just... the first one began this cycle. It happened in autumn by chance, and then we adapted the others accordingly.

Bojan: We messed up, because we basically ruined all of our summers with working on the album, instead of swimming in the sea.

Don't you want a holiday?

Bojan: No, we don't want a holiday, "ew!"

'Demoni' was the latest album. Have the demons chased you away now, or have you chased them away?

Bojan: Darn, sometimes we manage to chase them away, sometimes they chase us away, but I'd say that we picked a good name for the album 'Demoni'. When we talked about what would encapsulate everything the best, everything that happened and all the songs, I see that we already thought very well about the future as well.

Did you look into the crystal ball or read cards?

Bojan: Apparently the crystal ball, but we could easily name this album 'Demoni 2'.

Kris: I was thinking, the second– I mean, this album should be called Pandemonium, so that it would...

Bojan: Pandemonium, yes.

Kris: So that it'd be a logical continuation of the second one.

But this time, your album is titled 'Souvenir Pop'.

Kris: Yes, 'Souvenir Pop' is basically... for a long time, we couldn't find a suitable album title. We had all sorts of limitations, mostly only and exclusively in our heads. We wanted a title that somehow in a very punctual, short sentence, in a word or two, encapsulates our whole experience, from Eurovision onwards. And the optimum scenario was that the word or expression would be understandable in all three languages which appear on the album. And then 'Souvenir Pop' came to mind. And maybe now, Bojči can explain the message behind it.

Bojan: Right, I mean, we saw and experienced a lot of things, we were in a lot of new places, we met a lot of new people, we tried a lot of new food. To summarise, a lot of new things, which is hard to take home with you, right. Luckily, we also created a lot of beautiful memories for ourselves there and those were our souvenirs. In principle, I always liked to bring home or receive a magnet from a trip, so I would say that this sentiment of bringing something home from abroad is very dear to my heart. And bringing home memories, bringing ideas for the songs, makes it even more special. And I think we experienced something like this for the first time, this big accumulation of new feelings away from home, so this 'Souvenir Pop' blended together nicely with all the music that appears on the album.

Did you buy yourself a souvenir in each place, or a magnet to put on the fridge?

Bojan: Absolutely, in each place. And I always buy... five of them, like: for me, for my parents, for grandmothers, for...

And you, Kris, did you bring a souvenir from each concert city?

Kris: We mostly... I did bring a souvenir, but actually not because I was shopping for them, but because we received a whole lot of souvenirs from our fans, all sorts of bracelets, plushies, local, for example... they love to bring us sweets or local desserts because they know we have a sweet tooth, so... I brought home all sorts of stuff and that's basically also a part of 'Souvenir Pop', definitely.

We started our conversation with the song 'Muzika za decu' ('Music for Children'), but your music isn't just for children.

Bojan: Yes, no, I mean, this song is sort of a... a playful, silly approach to our music, I would say. Actually, the word 'deca' (children) refers to basically everyone, who dares to be a child, not just to physical children. Although at the end, we hear real children, but that's more for, what can I say, because of... Yeah, for the added special effect, and because it fills our hearts when we hear children singing, which we also heard a lot of on these trips, because people are constantly sending us videos of their children, nephews, grandchildren, of children singing in primary school or kindergarten. Especially since 'Carpe Diem', it became much, much more frequent. So yeah, this album, and all the music of course, is for the people who let themselves be... who let themselves relax, listen, think. We touch on a lot of topics here, so I believe it's worth a listen.

'Šta bih ja' will be next.

Bojan: 'Šta bih ja', yes. That was the first single which was created during our journey in London and it was obviously a clear mental response to the new environment, to the feeling of being a foreigner for the first time, so yeah, a sort of Balkan rock 'n' roll melody.

‘Šta bih ja’

'Šta bih ja' and Joker Out on the show RADIOaktivno. If you look back on your journey to Liverpool, if I were to draw the line, I would say it was very successful.

Kris: I mean, I doubt anyone thinks that it wasn't successful. We're more than satisfied with what we got out of Eurovision. From the very start, our goal was to gain an audience from abroad, mostly in Europe, and we succeeded in doing so. And also, whatever happened with the result at Eurovision didn't really stop us or kill our spirits at the time. Basically, right after Eurovision, I believe two weeks after, we were already flying to Dublin for the first two concerts abroad. So we had a lot of drive back then and that drive still keeps us moving forward, basically. And I think that you can feel that drive at the start of the album, in the first couple of songs.

Could you then say that it's not necessary to win, to be successful later? That Eurovision on its own can be good promotion?

Bojan: Absolutely, you absolutely don't have to win to gain success. In our own way, we won, because we, as Kris said, achieved our goal, right. What I'm trying to say is, you win when you achieve a goal. It'd be difficult to get a better outcome, if we're completely honest with ourselves. Now, the result could probably be better, it could also be worse, right, at the end of the day we weren't last, which is also fine. But... But what happened as a result of that is... it doesn't have a value, well, it's impossible to evaluate it, because... Many people who had a way better result didn't manage to achieve what we did. And we went there to get that, so right at the beginning... even during Eurovision, I actually had a segment where I was asking the contestants, would they rather achieve 21st or 22nd place, and later be successful, or win Eurovision, and then it's all up to fate. And most of them answered that they would rather achieve a lower place and then continue their music career. Like a prophet.

Kris: Bojan the prophet.

Bojan: Prophet.

Yeah, maybe it's better to hear "five points" than "twelve points".

Bojan: I don't know, I mean... I don't know if we even heard "five points", to be honest. I believe we heard "three points" at some point, but...

Kris: No, our 12 points... We got them from Serbia. We... Serbia was the only country who gave us 12 points. But I'll say it like this, our... Our victorious moment happened during the semi-final, when we got through. They dragged it out for so long, they announced us last. It was really tense, but because of that, the joy when they announced us as finalists was even greater. And honestly, I... For me, that was the main euphoric moment during Eurovision and I don't need anything more than that.

I think that happened because you were so modest and authentic.

Bojan: Yes, we actually were ourselves. We... Except maybe a bit more pink than usual, if we... with hand on heart.

Was it planned?

Bojan: Well, I don't know, when we started talking about the style for Eurovision, Damir Ponorelii, who was our designer, had this idea of The Garden of Eden as the theme for the costumes. And it seemed very fitting to us all, we liked what he outlined, and I think it fit well, it blended really well with the song. It also blended well with us, with our easygoingness. It added a lot to it. If we came there dressed maybe a bit more seriously, a bit more uptight, our performance probably wouldn't have looked the way it did. It can quicky pull you into an unwanted over-seriousness, you know, so I think it was a very good move, going with the open, relaxed, happy colours, which added a layer of ease to everything.

Coming up is probably your biggest hit so far, 'Carpe Diem'.

Kris: Yes, 'Carpe Diem', I don't think I need to use many words here. It's the song with which this album began, with which... without which this album wouldn't have been possible. And as much as I might cringe sometimes when I hear it, because I've heard it so many times, I'm glad it's on the album.

‘Carpe Diem’

'Souvenir Pop' from the band Joker Out, Kris and Bojan are on the show RADIOaktivno. Now that Eurovision is over... You made quite a few acquaintances during that time, or a lot of acquaintances.

Bojan: A lot of acquaintances. To me, actually, the biggest, most heartwarming thing, is the fact that in this year and a half on the tours, so many performers whom we met at Eurovision joined us on stage. And I'd almost dare say that this has never happened before, performers hanging out like this after Eurovision, especially on stage. So the fact that we managed to get, in practically every country we went to, a performer from that country on stage with us, who was with us that year at Eurovision, and play their song with them, was amazing, both for us and for the crowd. So, we've made very beautiful friendships, and we keep in touch often, and I think that every time we go to a country where we know someone, we get in touch and meet up.

What kind of process do you use to pick musicians to collaborate with?

Kris: We really didn't collaborate much in that sense with musicians, all there was, was the performance on stage. And for the stage and backstage, it goes without saying that some primal friendship energy has to exist. The performer you want to collaborate with has to intrigue you enough musically, creatively, that you want to make something new together with them, even if it's just one performance of a pre-existing song on stage in front of an audience. And honestly, at Eurovision, it turned out there's actually a lot of people with whom we wanted to share that experience. Especially those who appeared with us the most, like for example Käärijä, Gustaph, last year's Belgian representative, there's plenty of others, but those are the ones I can think of now.

Bojan, do you speak any Finnish yet?

Bojan: Very little. I'd say "ei", that's "no" in Finnish.

Although there was a lot of talk about your collaboration, or your friendship, with the Finnish representative back then at Eurovision.

Bojan: Yeah, that was... That was very very wide-spread. One can say I've never experienced going so viral before in my life. It was, it was interesting, it's definitely... It was definitely interesting to follow along, because the two of us, I'd say, offered quite a lot of material. But, I don't know, Jere and... Jere, Jere and I really clicked amazingly and I saw him a lot this year, too, I was in Finland quite a few times. We even went on holiday together recently, so... It's truly a beautiful friendship that happens rarely, I think, after high school.

I have to point out another collaboration, which isn't from Eurovision, and that's the collaboration with Elvis Costello and the wonderful duet.

Kris: Yes, that was the most unexpected collaboration that came out of this whole story, and it's actually not even connected to Eurovision. We, of course, already knew Elvis before it, and also idolised him to a degree. And then it turned out that our previous bassist Martin's godfather, who is an Englishman from Liverpool, is a good friend of Elvis's, and had, in the past, when we were releasing our music, at the start of our careers, shown him our songs and sort of laid the groundwork for the entire thing, for this collaboration. And after the release of the 'Demoni' album, which also included, of course, 'Novi val', Elvis listened to it and sort of initiated it himself, that... that he finds it a beautiful song and he'd try making an English version of it, or writing an English version of it. And then, when he'd written this English version, he got so into it that he wanted to actually record that version with us and that's how 'New Wave' happened.

I also saw the video, when you sing with him live, I think it was in Oslo.

Kris: Yes, that was the cherry on top of this absolutely unbelievable story, well, I'll put it this way. We had a tour of the Nordic countries last September, and it just so happened that a day before our show in Oslo, Elvis had his solo performance in the Oslo Opera, which is a magnificent building, I think newly constructed. Yeah, pretty new. And we wrote that we'd like to come see him, if nothing else, and he immediately replied: "No, you won't come and watch, you'll come and perform." So we suddenly, two hours after we found out that he was there, found ourselves at the soundcheck, on stage at the Oslo opera. I was playing his acoustic guitar, some Martin acoustic...

Bojan: 77 years.

Kris: No, before that, before World War Two. I... honestly it was quite... I felt sick to be holding such a guitar in my hands, but it was the right moment for something like that to happen.

Stephanie. Who's that, Bojan?

Bojan: Stephanie, that's... that's a muse. That's... Everyone will find their Stephanie, I think, in the story. It's, how would you say, I sort of experienced this song as the love of my life, who I met and lost in the same night.

'Stephanie'

'Stephanie' from the band Joker Out. How are you being received by the audience across European stages? Given that most don't speak the Slovenian language, and you sing in Slovenian, Serbian, English.

Bojan: Yeah, it seems quite unbelievable that time and time again, when we step on stage, people sing in... Now I'll say perfect Slovenian, because when there's a crowd of people singing together, these micro-mistakes get lost and it actually sounds like they're singing in perfect Slovenian. Which can confuse you a bit sometimes, because you're really in a place where no one speaks a word of Slovenian, generally, but you feel like you're at home. So... they react wonderfully. I think it's very specific, since they don't speak Slovenian, they put a great deal of time into really learning the lyrics by heart. While doing that, they of course translated them and learnt their meanings and they actually wait for the concert, to finally be able to spill out all this knowledge that they've accumulated through time. And it's an incredible outpouring of energy. It's very loud, it's very intense. I don't know, it's the feeling like how after COVID, we all suddenly started going out, attending all possible concerts, because... because the soul and body demanded that we finally let loose. That's the feeling at the concerts. Like they've been locked in a cage and they came and just spilled all of that out of themselves.

After all, you've even recorded the noise at concerts. Though the loudest ended up being Stožice.

Bojan: Yeah, we measured the noise level for the song 'Sunny Side of London', because in the chorus, there's a part where the audience screams. So we deemed it fitting to take a noise-level meter and measure how loud the audiences were across Europe. And we actually breached the limit of, I'd say, safe noise level in multiple cases, where I then actually told the audience to cover their ears while they're screaming because of how loud it got. It went, I don't know, past 120 dB, or how much was it, 130 (dB). So yeah, an interesting little project.

Besides all of these languages that you now have in your repertoire, is there any that's a challenge? A song in a second, third, fourth language?

Kris: Yes, we played around with the idea of having another foreign language on it quite a lot, a Romance one, I know Bojan is good at Spanish, in particular. But that's really something that'd be more of a one time experiment than a regular creative channel. We didn't manage to do it this time, we were so focused on these ten songs on the album, and in the languages in which they were created, that there wasn't... that we didn't find the time for anything else, but... Maybe at some point, there's something completely different coming.

Now that there's so many concerts behind you, did your creativity suffer for it?

Kris: Yes, it did, it did. Mostly due to so little time between concerts and creating. Immediately after the concerts, we went into the studio, or our rehearsal space, to create music, and then we immediately went back on tour. And that's how the story went for a full year and a half. I think that... far from any of us thinking that we're releasing a bad album or something like that, but there'd probably be more material if we took more time to create. And maybe we'd decide to put only ten songs on the album anyway, but as it was, I think that we really squeezed out the maximum, when it comes to new music, from this year and a half, with what tour scheduling allowed us.

Bojan, is there any time, then, to sit down in peace and create, or do any ideas pop up on the way, on a bus, in a van?

Bojan: Generally, these stories happen parallel to everything that's happening. I wouldn't say they're actively being embodied in that time, but yeah, it's only after you're able to move away from a concert, a bit, that what comes up in your head starts taking shape. And it'll be good to have some free time, well, next year with the start of the year, when these New Year's concerts end, and before the beginning of probably the next, March or April tour.

Is the creative process the same as it was before, or has it changed?

Bojan: I'm not sure. Generally, there's always new versions forming, some conglomerates of creating. On this album, we jumped a lot from instrument to instrument, too, so it all ended up being more similar to a laboratory, or a sandbox, where the formulas, toys and such are interchangeable, right. I don't know. The band is the same, the producer is the same, so generally there's not a lot of difference. Except for the fact we've actually abandoned the rigid system of only playing the instrument you play. For example, Jan reached for many kinds of keyboards, a lot. Nace also spent some time focusing more on, I'd say, more synthesised bass, or production itself, and then post-production on the computer, and so on. There was a lot of jumping around.

'Ako toga više neće biti' will be next.

Kris: Yeah, that's basically a song which caught me unawares. With the final version, I...

Bojan: Surprised.

Kris: Surprised. It surprised me a lot. I'm very, very happy with the final version and I think that it's definitely one of the best songs on the album.

'Ako toga više neće biti'

'Souvenir Pop' is an album by Joker Out, completely fresh, which we're introducing today on the show RADIOaktivno. Bojan, the lyrics are in Slovene, English, Serbian. How do you decide the language of the lyrics?

Bojan: I don't decide, the songs usually get created in a certain language and I prefer if they stay in the language in which they were created. Because the story usually starts writing itself with the music, or music sparks a thought process, which awakens a story. And then rearranging that is usually not the most honest thing in the world, at least to me. So the music dictates the language. But I would say that having more languages on the album, is really a result of us spending this year... of me spending this year and a half thinking in these three languages a lot. Not just being in touch with them, but... when you spend a long time with a language, you start to think in this language as well. And... So I would say that the order of the songs on the album is also a very, well, healthy presentation of our thought process during this time.

Do you record at home or abroad?

Kris: Well, half and half. For this album... We recorded half of it in Hamburg, in Clouds Hill studio, where we also recorded 'Carpe Diem' two years ago, and the other half... and that doesn't mean that we made half of the songs there and the other half here, but let's say that 75% of the framework was created there, and the rest was finished in Ljubljana, because we ran out of time there.

There are ten songs on the album.

Kris: Ten songs, yes, for the third time. A third album with ten songs already. In our head, that's a minimum for an album, apparently. I know that we all wish to put out an album with more than ten songs one day, but we need more time and more of a creative break for that, for sure.

The cover of the album shows you lying in bed. Bojan, you're facing the wrong direction.

Bojan: Yes, this picture was created on... on the morning of the final, I think, or... Right? On the morning of the Eurovision final, when we were recording a promotional video. And even then, it...it was giving off energy, it was calling out for… I remember we were looking at the picture even then, and we said: "Darn, this looks like something that this album could become eventually." And I think it encapsulates very well... Just like the name 'Souvenir Pop', this picture also encapsulates the fact that we lived together for a year and a half very well. And that we were kind of squeezed in a small place for the first time. First of all, none of us had our own comfort zone, instead, we shared our comfort zone. We had to really adapt for the first time. And... yeah, it's a very honest picture. This picture came to life by chance, it wasn't created as a planned photoshoot or anything like that, and... and for that reason, I think it's suited for this album.

Kris, it looks like you're on a postage stamp.

Kris: Yes, that's because we are on a postage stamp. We look at this album, and we want the listeners to look at it like that as well, as our parcel from abroad. It's our... Our message home from abroad, in a way. This is our diary, our inner thoughts, that weren't in the public eye most of the time, and it's basically like a check-up: "Look, this is what's going on with us.We're here, listen."

After all, if you look at the stamp closely, you can tell where you come from.

Kris: Yeah, I mean, definitely. I think the whole photo illustrates where we come from, because the whole album is also intertwined with this idea of homesickeness and with the sense of belonging to our places. And because of that, we... visually, it seemed appropriate that this should be reflected on the album cover.

The chicken on the stamp appears to be running somewhere.

Bojan: Oh, this chicken. This chicken is actually... This chicken is actually our logotype, that ended up very distorted, for the sake of looking lika a stamp, and it can actually be mistaken for our Slovenian chicken, if you look at it quickly.

Kris: I only noticed this now.

Bojan: So really, this logotype is a win-win situation.

Two in one.

Bojan: Exactly. We killed two birds with one stamp.

'Bluza' will be next.

Bojan: 'Bluza' will be next. A song that came out as the third single from this album. Fourth, I'm sorry, fourth single from this album. And I have to say, it's my first time experiencing that groups of elderly people are sending me videos from weddings, baptisms or afterparties where, instead of 'Cesarica', they sing 'Bluza' at the end. It's an interesting song. So yeah, it appears to be a song for a late evening or an early morning.

‘Bluza’

Joker Out, Kris and Bojan are with me on the show RADIOaktivno, 'Souvenir Pop' is the album we're introducing. On the 22nd of November, you start the promotional tour.

Kris: Yes, on the 22nd of November, we'll be back on the concert stage, in our local Cvetličarna, to be exact. We've thought a lot about how... because we haven't been in Slovenia a lot for about ten months, and we thought about what would be the most effective way, for us personally and for our fans, to return to concert stages on our home ground. And of course we thought about all the possibilities, but in the end we came to the conclusion that we really enjoy doing smaller gigs. And that the first album we introduced, called 'Umazane Misli', we introduced at Cvetličarna, which was quite a historic achievement for us at the time and we actually still look back at this event with fond memories. So we wanted to recreate that for the third album, so we decided to have two gigs in Ljubljana's Cvetličarna again to present the third album.

And then other Balkan capitals, and then Maribor on the 6th of December.

Kris: Yeah, we're basically heading on some kind of regional tour across... more or less across countries in the former Yugoslavia. After the two concerts in Cvetličarna, we're heading to Novi Sad and Belgrade, after that we're going to Skopje, and yeah, like you already said, Maribor and finally in Vienna.

Bojan, you already mentioned earlier that you'll head around Europe in spring.

Bojan: Yes, most probably. That was the plan when we last talked with our booking agent. Next summer, we hope to play at as many festivals as possible, which take place during summer. And then we'll adjust the time around it for our own tours. I expect that in March or April, we'll be heading to at least a few European countries, and then, when the summer ends, there are two possible scenarios. One is to visit countries in Europe which weren't a part of... either the first cycle, or the festival cycle. And we'll definitely be spending more time in Slovenia than we did this year, that is, on Slovenian concert stages.

Is there also any demand outside of Europe?

Bojan: Yes, we've been asked to play outside of Europe. We were invited twice to tour across Australia, which would consist of three or four dates, a one week tour. Unfortunately we didn't decide to do it at the time, because timewise, it wasn't compatible with the creation of the new album and with other concerts. Maybe if there's still enough interest next year, and if our schedule will allow it, maybe we'll fly to Australia next year. That would be really nice. We also had a concert booked in New York, which we also couldn't do at the time, because it just all happened too fast for us to be able to get working visas, so we also had to skip that one. But you never know, right? The future might have something planned for us.

'Lips' will be next.

Bojan: 'Lips'. 'Ustnice' (in Slovenian). Yeah, and this is probably... I would say, the most, what can I say, the most distinct song on the album, a song on its own. In fact, it almost works as some kind of a movie trailer, music for a movie trailer. A dramatic, dark song with a slightly different sound.

'Lips'

Joker Out, Kris and Bojan are with me. How "friendly" are Joker Out with artificial intelligence (AI)?

Kris: I honestly doubt that any of us actually uses artificial intelligence. I maybe used it when I had to translate something, but nowadays it's already, as far as I know, if you just type some text in Google Translate, AI translates it for you. But that's it, as far as that's concerned. I think we all avoid it a little bit because we don't really understand it, nor do we want to really, so it doesn't take over our lives, and mostly so it doesn't take over our artistic creation.

Bojan: Yes, I'll just confirm what Kris said. We don't really embody people who would play with AI too much. For now, I think it also doesn't really contribute a lot to our creative process, and concerning the personal usage, it frightens me more than it delights me, so I give it a wide berth.

I use AI to help me plan interviews and usually it also gives me answers to the question about which are the most popular songs of a certain artist. What do you think, which five songs did it list for you?

Bojan: Oh, probably... I'd say 'Carpe Diem', 'Umazane misli', 'Gola', 'Vse kar vem', and... and something else. Maybe 'Demoni'?

I'll also ask Kris.

Kris: Yes, certainly 'Carpe Diem', 'Umazane misli' for sure, and I would for sure say 'Demoni', and then my mind comes to a stop. Maybe... yeah... Maybe 'Katrina' is also an option, and 'Novi val'.

The Microsoft Copilot listed the following: 'Carpe Diem', 'Demoni', 'Umazane misli', 'Sunny Side of London' and 'Plastika'.

Kris: I get it all, except for 'Sunny Side of London'.

Bojan: Yes, me too. Me too. Maybe the keyword 'London' matched with all the Google searches for London and that's how it got "a billion" streams. No, I don't know, I would then probably also agree. Those are definitely songs that work the best at our concerts... Oh, I totally forgot 'Plastika'. And 'Sunny Side of London' is a bit, I would say, artificial unintelligence.

Yeah, you know, it's often wrong. If I were to ask who are the members of a certain band, it lists totally incorrect ones.

Bojan: Really? Well, yeah. Well... we probably shouldn't count on it 100% just yet, right.

The next one will be 'Mesto duhov'.

Kris: That's actually a song which was also created in London and it was primarily in English for quite some time, but then we decided we would actually rather have it in Slovenian language. And that's how a song was created about the feeling of alienation upon returning home.

Bojan: I would jump in here. It's not actually a song about the alienation when coming home, but it's more a feeling of a very clear pessimism when returning home, which was new to me. That is, the atmosphere has changed completely, that people increasingly talk about the reality and the approach of a war. Young people very honestly and clearly show a certain fear, unease. And it's actually the only, and also the first, entirely pessimistic song that I've ever written, because I feel like... That sometimes you basically have to... sometimes you have to put in a song exactly what you're feeling, that is, it's not always, we don't always feel like we will... that the new wave will manage to swim, and sometimes you have a feeling that... that everything will go to (beep), right, and that's that song.

I see you just self-censored.

Bojan: Yes, I self-censored just in case.

I wouldn't do it.

Bojan: Well, there you go, then it's good that I did it.

‘Mesto duhov’

Joker Out, album 'Souvenir Pop', Kris and Bojan are with me. How do you see the Slovenian music scene now, with so much international experience? Where are we, compared to other countries?

Bojan: We actually have, I would say, the most blossoming live music scene, gosh, maybe in the world. Everyone we talked to from abroad, from whichever country, and told them that in Slovenia, in almost every village, there's a concert every week on a professional stage, with professional lighting, sound system, with security service, with a backstage, and so on and so on, they couldn't believe it. They couldn't believe that in such a small country a person can constantly perform. When we told them that we had about 30, 40 gigs across all of Slovenia... that's science fiction. That... People have around four, five gigs, and even those are constantly in the same venues, the same recurring events. So yeah, that's a complete luxury we have here. And I'm very glad, because we have a lot of great artists, new young artists, a lot of bands, solo artists... So I'd say that we have a phenomenal music scene.

Kris: I definitely agree with everything Bojan said. I think that... maybe just to add something, which is basically a confirmation of what Bojan said, this quality of the Slovenian music scene, not just on a local, but also at an international level, that after we got fans from abroad, there are a lot of other Slovenian young artists who gained fans from abroad, I noticed. And it means that a certain Slovenian cultural influence, not just ours but in general, spilled abroad as well. And actually I find that very encouraging, and I also see that in the last year and a half, a lot more of our musical peers are also thinking about possibly making it... at least in the area of the former Yugoslavia, if not in broader Europe. That's an excellent boost and a great confirmation from the outside word.

AI also answered the question about which bands are the most similar to you. What do you think?

Bojan: Worldwide?

Yes, it basically listed bands from Europe and Slovenia. To narrow it down.

Bojan: Yes, then I would say somebody like Siddharta maybe made it to the list, Arctic Monkeys, and that's... I don't know if it listed Big Foot Mama from Slovenian ones. Unless it listed like, somebody completely different, like...

Kris: Maroon 5.

Bojan: It put Selena Gomez for us, and...

No, it didn't go that low.

Bojan: Enrique Iglesias. I don't know, who was it?

Kris: Yeah, good question, how much it's actually... But I would say that, I know that, for example, when you look at a certain artist on Spotify, at the bottom there's a segment that says: "Others also listened to," and it shows you icons of various artists. And with us, the Spotify algorithms, or with any other Slovenian artist, detect... If it's a Slovenian artist, it will be listed below. So, the first two kind of make sense. I don't know, I guess MRFY will also appear with us, and Big Foot or Siddharta. And then it'll start to throw out Modrijani, Dejan Vunjak and all that.

Bojan: Everybody.

Kris: That's because the algorithm conglomerates everything, like, this is Slovenia, two million people listened to this, it doesn't matter if there's a border, it's the same taste in music and you can listen to that. So I wouldn't be surprised if there are also artists like that on the AI list.

There were five of them, LPS, then Sudden Lights from Latvia, Siddharta, MRFY, and Buč Kesidi from Serbia.

Bojan: Oh, good, nice collection. We saw Sudden Lights when we played in Latvia, they came to our concert. We saw LPS multiple times, they were also our supporting act in Czechia and they played a fantastic show. They are also... The crowd responded really well to their performance too. Siddharta, okay, it was kind of obvious. MRFY... I don't know how similar we are, but right, let's say we have the same producer, so maybe AI detected something with regards to that. Who was the last one? Right, Buč Kesidi. Yeah, and Buč Kesidi are good friends of ours. I wouldn't say we're that similar, but we absolutely really like their music, so there's that.

Kris: It must have detected that they acted in our last music video.

Second to last will be 'Sonce'.

Bojan: Yes, 'Sonce' is... 'Sonce' is a song that was created very much as my sort of direct reaction to the current situation in Palestine. At first glance, or at first listen, one might think that it's a love song, but it's not. It's actually a story of a son who speaks to his mother after his death. Jan wrote a wonderful piano arrangement, so the song is actually, I'd say, very specific, only piano and vocals. Difficult to listen to, it doesn't have a recurring chorus. It really comes and goes more like a story than a song. By structure, too.

'Sonce'

Kris and Bojan, to conclude this conversation, more information about you online, on all social channels, social media.

Kris: Yes, these days there's so much info about everyone, but especially about those of us that are more exposed, entirely too much online. So, if you want to know where I was born, how old I am and such, you can find it all on Wikipedia. But otherwise, if you want to keep up with more serious stuff, like concert locations, when new music is coming out, where you can buy some of our... an item of clothing or a CD, it can all be found on our website www.jokeroutband.com. But otherwise, we're currently also using a completely new platform called Openstage, which is meant for our biggest, most enthusiastic fans. And it's essentially a platform where you sign up with your email or phone number and the city in which you go... you live, or in which you attend concerts. And in exchange for that data we offer very special, let's say... Exclusive pre-listens, the option of buying tickets before they're released to the general public, various interesting things, and at the same time, our listeners help show us where they are in Europe and where we could perform.

Is the album out in only digital form or is there a physical version too?

Bojan: The album is of course also released in physical form. Although for the vinyl release there's a bit of a wait, because these days, the printing of the vinyl is more, I'd say, a luxury than the norm, and the wait for the print is truly long. But CDs are coming. CDs are coming. Quicker than the vinyls.

So there'll definitely be something the fans can hold in their hands.

Bojan: Absolutely, absolutely. It's nice to hold music in your hand, too.

The album is completely fresh. The tour is coming up, like we've mentioned. Will there be some rest afterwards or none?

Kris: There will be, and we're all very grateful for it. We have a collective break in January and February. A part of the band are even going on holiday together for a while, but I hope we'll be able to really disconnect ourselves this time. Because even now, in the year and a half since Eurovision, we had time to go on holiday, a short one, a week, two weeks, but never really had the time to disconnect our brains, which is actually the thing we need most, and we really, really hope that's coming in January and February.

Is it hard to disconnect from music?

Bojan: It is, yes. It was practically impossible to disconnect from music. Even now, when two shorter, I'd say, holiday breaks happened, it actually wasn't a holiday in the real sense of the word, because the album was finishing up and whole nights were being spent... The team that was in Slovenia, was in the studio in Slovenia, and those of us who weren't in Slovenia, we just stayed up all night, listening over the phone and gave our reviews of the mixing, the mastering and so on. So it was a very... it was a very hectic holiday, really.

Any other single from the album?

Kris: Yes. Actually, five songs from this album have already been released as singles. There's probably going to be another. We've just released the new album, and we're actually waiting to see which of the unreleased songs gets the most popular. And maybe we'll decide based on that which one will be next and when, but definitely not before next year.

To finish this conversation and the presentation of 'Souvenir Pop', another song, 'Everybody's Waiting'.

Bojan: 'Everybody's Waiting', a song that came out in February of this year, during the time we were in London. It's a song that speaks about experiencing and overcoming an internal crisis, about the feeling of always having to shine. I'd say a song that I very much like to return to as a listener of our music, which I don't listen to a lot, right, because it might be a bit weird. Or not, I don't know. But I really like coming back to this song. It calms me, I really like the arrangement, I really like how the song sounds and I really like the song.

Some musicians listen to their own music in their cars, and then get upset about finding so many mistakes.

Bojan: Yeah, that... That's not me. I'm not that kind of musician.

'Everybody's Waiting' to finish it off. Bojan and Kris, thank you for being guests of the show RADIOaktivno, I wish you success and busyness going forward.

Bojan: Yes, thank you very much for this truly nice and in-depth interview.

Kris: Thank you. See you when the fourth album is out.

Definitely. November in two years.

Kris: Yeah, no, it'd be in December, right, the only autumn month that's not yet... yes.

'Everybody's Waiting'

We are Joker Out and you're listening to RADIOaktivno.

#joker out #jokeroutsubs #bojan cvjetićanin #bojan cvjeticanin #jan peteh #jure macek #jure maček #kris guštin #kris gustin #nace jordan #Youtube

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seumyo · 2 days ago

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TOKOYAMI FUMIKAGE ⭑.ᐟ RECENT BAKING NEWS: GINGERBREAD MAN MURDERED BY ICING

Tokoyami stood near the oven, his eyes scanning the latest batch cooling on the tray. “This one survived,” he said, lifting a gingerbread man with only a minor crack in its leg.

“Fumi, look!”

It was a gingerbread man covered in neon pink icing, its buttons slightly askew, and its face looking more mischievous than festive. Like an evil version of Gingy from Shrek.

“It’s... unique,” he said diplomatically.

You giggled, clearly proud of your work. “He’s special! I call him Sir Gingy of Sprinkleland!”

Tokoyami hummed, setting the rest of the intact gingerbread men on a cooling rack. “Sir Gingy seems to have taken significant damage to his arm,” he pointed out.

You gasped, inspecting the cookie again. “Oh no! I didn’t even notice! Poor Sir Gingy! He’s been through so much.” You gave it a dramatic, sorrowful look. “You think icing can save him?”

“No amount of icing will repair that arm. It’s a lost cause.”

“Fine. He’ll just be a war hero. I’ll make a new one!”

As you grabbed another gingerbread man, you accidentally squeezed your piping bag too hard, sending a short yet thick stream of icing splattering onto the counter. “Oops,” you said with a sheepish grin, quickly grabbing a spoon to scrape it up.

“[Name], you’re making more of a mess than anything.”

“Hey, I’m making art!” you retorted, playfully sticking your tongue out at him. “You’re just jealous because my gingerbread men are cooler than yours.”

“Mine are intact. That alone makes them superior.”

Your rebuttals continued as you two worked, though “worked” might have been a generous term. You had an almost endless supply of energy, attacking each gingerbread man with new ideas, while Tokoyami methodically piped clean, precise lines onto his.

At one point, you leaned in close to inspect one of his cookies. What kind of sorcery did he perform to do such a thing?

“How do you make the lines so straight?”

“Practice,” Tokoyami replied simply, though his feathers ruffled slightly at your proximity.

“I think it’s because you’re just naturally good at everything,” you said with a smile, not noticing how your compliment made his gaze soften.

The process to create the “perfect” gingerbread man was more complicated than it had to be. One batch was slightly overbaked, leading to you dramatically declaring them “burnt sacrifices to the oven gods.” Another batch could barely hold out on their own, way too soft—Tokoyami couldn’t bring himself to even step in and stop your experimentation with the recipe with how happy you looked.

Luckily, not that much ingredients went to waste as he made do of the rest to salvage them.

“Aw, I think this one got sentenced to weak, floppy arms.”

“I’m not sure he could’ve survived the icing flood anyway.”

By the time you finally managed to create a properly decorated gingerbread man, you were a complete mess. Flour streaked your cheeks, and your hands were sticky with icing. Tokoyami, who had somehow remained relatively clean, couldn’t help but stare at you in disbelief.

He shook his head and reached for a clean cloth. “Hold still.”

Tokoyami gently dabbed at the icing on your arm, then turned his attention to your face. “There’s flour on your cheek,” he said, his voice softening as he used the cloth to wipe it away.

“And on your nose.”

“And… here too.”

You held perfectly still, your eyes wide as you felt his fingers gently brush a stray sprinkle out of your chin. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Thanks, Fumi. But, uh… you’ve got a little something too.”

Tokoyami tilted his head to the side. “Where?”

You smirked mischievously, swiping your finger through a dollop of icing on the counter and booping it onto his beak. “There!”

He froze, his feathers ruffling in surprise as you burst into laughter. “[Name]…”

“Come on, you can’t stay mad at me during Christmas!” you teased cheekily.

With a sigh that was more amused than annoyed, Tokoyami grabbed another cloth to wipe his beak clean. “How childish,” he muttered, but the fondness in his tone was unmistakable.

Despite the countless casualties—burnt cookies, cracked gingerbread men, and icing floods—they eventually managed to create a perfectly decorated, cutesy gingerbread man. You held it up triumphantly, your now neatly cleaned hands bringing out the baked goods beauty.

All thanks to your boyfriend who had the patience of a saint. Nevertheless, Tokoyami couldn’t help but think that this was the kind of Christmas memory he would treasure forever.

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aquinnix · 21 hours ago

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Febuwhump Day 10 - Magic Exhaustion

“Bdubs? Are you in here?” A voice came from somewhere a room over. Bdubs groaned slightly, he really wasn’t in the mood to ‘people’ at the moment. The past week the sky had been nothing but grey and dark and storming, barely any sunlight making it to the earth. The plants in his garden had begun to protest, along with the pots by the window. And it seemed, Bdubs’ own body was just as unhappy. He tried to roll over to see the doorway, but he couldn’t muster the energy.

The voice was getting closer. “Bdubs? Hello? No one’s heard from you in days.” At the tail end of that sentence, the voice became clear. “Bdubs! Are you alright?” A hand came to rest on his forehead. Bdubs tried to bat it away, but his arm didn’t leave the mattress. The voice laughed. “Have you really been asleep this whole time?” Bdubs shook his head ever so slightly.

The laughter stopped. “What happened? Are you okay?” The hand on his forehead moved to mess with the sheets. The fog in Bdubs’ mind cleared slightly, just enough to recognize the voice fussing over him.

“Eeeeee…o.” Bdubs tried to call out Etho’s name, but his voice gave up on him.

“That’s right, I’m here.” Bdubs’s hair was ruffled through. “Did you get hit in the head?”

Right, Etho was trying to help him. Bdubs didn’t get much further down that thought process. It felt like there was something he was supposed to be doing. What was it? Tell. Tell Etho what was wrong. Tell Etho how to help.

“Ssssssssssssssnnnnnnnnnnnnn.” The sound was more akin to a groan than a word. “Sssseeee uuuunnnnn.” No more than a whisper.

Etho’s hand stopped moving. “You're gonna have to speak up.”

Bdubs tried again, this time nothing came out. Again. “Sssssssss…”

“That’s it, you can do it.” Etho’s hand was moving again, comforting circles on Bdubs’ back. “Starts with an S?”

“Uuuuuunnnnnn.” Slightly louder this time, but still wobbly.

“Sun! Is that it? Sun?” Etho’s hand squeezed gently. Bdubs tried to nod, he barely moved. “I’ll be right back.” Etho’s touch left.

Bdubs just layed there, waiting, sore from those small motions he had managed. His thoughts began to fade away from him again, unfocused. There was a reason he was stuck here, what was it?

A voice came from somewhere nearby. “You can be mad at me for this later, but don’t forget I helped you.” Bdubs barely had a chance to process those words before there was a loud crunching, cracking sound. He curled in on himself as much as he could, trying to get away from the horrible noise. It kept hammering, relentless.

He managed to open his eyes slightly. Something was different. What was it? Brighter. The room was brighter than it had been before. The banging stopped. “How’s that? More?” Was the voice talking to him?

Bdubs nodded, the motion bigger and more vigorous. He could feel the energy beginning to seep into his skin and bones. The crashing started up again, every thud letting just a bit more light into the room. Bdubs stretched out, trying to soak up as much of it as he could.

The voice laughed slightly. The world came into better focus, shapes unbluring. Etho. That was the source of the voice. Bdubs slowly began to sit up, blinking hard. Etho had said something about being mad before. Why would he be mad at all this light?

Oh.

“Etho! What did you do to my wall?!”

#mcyt #hermitcraft #ethoslab #bdubbleo100 #febuwhumpday10 #febuwhump #febuwhump2025

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erigold13261 · 2 years ago

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Anyone know a place to look up Mexican sign language signs (LSM)? I can't seem to find a place to just show me pictures, it's all videos and not even ones I want.

Otherwise I feel like I am going to have to use ASL as I still want Papa to be signing. Would that just be better to do? Since I would be more able to spot problems or something if it's ASL instead of LSM.

Also realized that whenever I showed Eloni signing I would always use ASL. I think using ASL might actually be better for me?

It just makes me think of people who will write dialogue for DK West in English (or their native language, but I've seen this with English as that is what I read) and in a caption under the bubble say that it's in Malay.

I feel like I could do that with sign language but it... doesn't have the same effect obviously. Especially if the signs are very different.

Really I'd just be showing a frame or something of the signed phrase and translating the rest of it into a "speech" bubble. I don't want to make up fake gestures either.

I guess figuring this out will also help me whenever I want to have Dodo (or Eloni) talk too, so it's a good thing I am finally addressing this lol. Time to do some thinking and searching.

#rambling #eritalks #noart #my main issue #is that i only know a bit of spanish #so i can make the sentence i want verbally #but can't make sure it is correctly signed #and i have no idea how to speak japanese or korean #so if i mess something up in making my sentence #then the signs will be even more messed up #even just using asl #i don't know much #which is why i stick to one frame and then translate #because i am worried about showing the wrong signs #or just drawing hands over like 10 times #just to say one sentence #hmmmm #lots to think about

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itsalwaysdark · 6 months ago

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i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is

#ive been overthinking 1 light and casual mildly funny response to something but im worried itll come off as disrespectful and dismissive And #make me seem stupid and uncaring all at the same time. and also be seen as insulting. but like idt itd be insulting right like. im not #saying what it is so ig for all you guys know im like I mean if i say All your shit suck ball and i hateit kys. <- thats not the thing i was #going to say #like it doesnt matter now the window for response is closed now but i feel stupid bc i shouldve just said it it was light and casual. im so #bad at keeping convos gojng im convinced im not going to survive. In like a light and casual way like in a He will not make it through the #winter joke way. dw. im not going to do anything bc i had One failed interaction. if i was going to do anythjng itd be bc of the 8000000 #other failed interactions. But im not. anyways. it just makes me feel so useless 😭 like i want to respond i want to talk to ppl so bad but #i feel like i mess things up Irreparably every time i speak OR i take too LONG overthinking my response and then i just cant respond bc its #been too long and then its been 3 years and the only messages ive ever sent r my intro message and 1 message 2 years ago that nobody #responded to at all. or the conversation stopped immediately after. and like i used to be better at this i was lkke. talkative in a couple #muts servers like. i talked 2 ppl daily in those servers and i had fun and like. I was an important part of the group and i felt like it #but i just feel like such an outsider for Everything and its literally my fault bc i cant just like. Talk. The explosion. bc im always like #im gonna try im gonna do it this time im gonna get it back im going to finally be Good connor and im going to fix it all and make a Good #solid friend group and ill find HEALTHY LOVE and i wont selfsabotage and ill move out and have a job and ill balance it well and ill start #all my hobbies and ill have a great routine and be so loveable and on top of it and not stressed and content and happy and roll with the #punches and then theres a single hiccup and im like Well fuckinf whatever im going to be an unemployed hermit forever and im going to die b4 #im 25 anyways so Who cares and also im digging a little hole for myself. and its like. AUGHH ik i just have to persevere and overcome but #even saying that feels so stupid its not fucking hard its Talking to ppl. like. i literally if ive ever said a word to you i had to think #avt it and strategize how to respond right even for like. like. it makes it sound like its not genuine it is #like for example i want to say hey i love your art! but then i freak out and im like thats not normal thats like a rly generic comment they #hear that all the time theyll thjnk im being polite and my brains like hrmmm rewrite Your art changed my life. It shaped me. Ill never be #the same. Nad im like ok too far overcorrected go back and the sentence generator is like Your art has colors 💯 like. GOD. WHY IS IT SO #difficult. and then usually i either just dont say anythinf and feel awful abt it 4ever OR i send it on anon and then i spend like 15 #minutes ibsessively slightly tweaking the apelling and capitalization and punctuation to make sure it doesnt seem like its me just in case #it Is the worst possible thing to say but then i see the response and itll be like AWWW TYSM :] THIS MEANS A LOT or whathaveyou and i feel #stupid bc i couldve just Told them this to their face and it wouldve been a good positive interaction we had. but instead i had 2 hide and #tyoe entirely differently so they couldnt sniff me from my typing style. and it soesnt even feel like the thanks is actually 4 me bc i #tweaked the message sm. and it still makes me happy that the oersons hapoy but its like. that couldve been a nice mutual interaction #like not that i need a personal ty i compliment ppl when i Want to compliment ppl and when its genuine yk. i dont do it so i get mutualpoint

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httpiastri · 2 years ago

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Hi! I just read let's knock everyone's hats off and i loved it ❤️ just as someone who identifies as non binary, i just wanted to let you know that reader is described as daniel's girlfriend which is fine but the title saying it was a gender neutral reader, it caught me off guard so i was wondering if you could change it to fem!reader? I don't mean to be rude or cause harm and I really hope you won't read it like that because it isn't my intention at all, it's just a bit discouraging to think that i finally found a gender neutral fic for my fav driver and then to realize that it isn't really a gender neutral fic 😅 again I don't want to upset you or anything I just thought I'd let you know but you're of course free to delete this, I really hope you won't be offended, I assure it isn't my goal. Also sorry if english is a bit off, it isn't my first language 😭 anyway i did enjoy your writing and I hope you'll keep on writing, it was great ❤️

hello! thank you for your message. i’d like to say that i am really sorry for my mistake. i was really tired when i posted the danny blurb yesterday, and i had no energy to even come up with a title nor a summary (it still has no summary…..), so when i was gonna write the genre, pairing and such i just copied the one from another blurb. i must’ve forgotten in the moment that i had mentioned the reader as his girlfriend, so i just didn’t change it… you’re not rude or offensive or anything (and your english is great, don’t worry about it!), thank you pointing out the mistake so that i could fix it. again, i apologize!

thank you for your sweet words, hope you have a great day ❤️

#im sometimes so lazy when it comes to the summary and all that stuff…. like once I’m done with something I just wanna publish it and #be done with it already #a few days ago I posted something here and just copied the genre and pairing and all that stuff from another fic #and I didn’t realize until the day after that I didn’t change the driver 🫣#so it was like a lando fic but the pairing said reader x oscar #or the other way around #to be really honest I’m super thankful for asks like these because instead of just letting me have a mistake out in public #these asks make you see the problem and then you can fix them #like when I look back at a story and see how i have used a word really wrong or if there’s one sentence with completely messed up grammar #then I kinda wish that someone had pointed it out to me so not too many people would’ve seen it and laughed at me #do u get what I mean? maybe? idk #or maybe i should just put my stuff through Grammarly….. would make sense #anyways #i’m sorry :( and thank you!!#anon!#asks!

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stunie · 7 months ago

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ok so i hit 30 tags pretty early so i wanted to add extra thoughts under here i am SOOO SORRY OMFG ITS SO MUCH 😭😭 GOD

attempt 1 at reading - thoughts:

i love how you wrote the nervousness and hesitation of both reader and atsumu ): this relationship feels so genuine and realistic, like every thought is so real and complex and it all just plays out soooo vividly in my head. i can literally feel every single thing in MY SOUL. it got me holding my breath, my heart racing, my stomach churning

the kiss . the first kiss where mr suna interrupted . when i tell you i read it like this >//////< EXCEPT MY HAND WAS CLASPED SO TIGHTLY OVER MY MIUTH. oh my god the reaction i had. it really felt like a first kiss all over again, i was genuinely WARM and all blushy

attempt 2 at reading - thoughts:

i loved how u wrote out the tension again .. and your characterization for all of them ?? kita being all observant? osamu being all curious ?

the emotional rollercoaster i am on in this chapter is crazy. i took my first break after suna interrupted (the kiss killed me), and im taking my second break right after atsumu confesssd (i was killed a second time). i was irritated during the cafe bc WHY r u avoiding me, and then the next second i’m like squealing 😭 the way that u write yue !! the way that u write . i am such a mess right now give me another moment

attempt 3 at reading - thoughts:

holy shit this scene . the kissing ? THE AAY YOU DESCDIBED IT from the first kiss ?? this one made my stomach FLIP omfg .

oh god the neck kisses . the .. the everything . my left leg has goosebumps idk why it’s only my left leg am i okay yue ? am i okay what’s wrong with me

i have a little ways to go i’m almost done but i need yet another break holy shit i have been reduced to a dizzy lil mess what have i become

attempt 4 at reading - thoughts:

oh my god ): oh my god ): what am i even supposed to say here. i love how u wrote the smut part ?? it feels like actual love ? he is so sweet pls

osamu interrupting had me jolting upright BECAUSE SUNA FIRST NOW OSAMU ? is kita the next victim ?? poor baby

AGHHH THE ENDING IS SO CUTE i fr feel like im in an anime ): i feel so pretty and so lovely THIS WAS SO LOVELYYY TYSMMM YUE FOR WRITING THIS

v. MISUNDERSTANDINGS

miya atsumu x f!reader

── next: vi. Epilogue: Sakura sweetness | series masterlist

synopsis: A drunken conversation with Atsumu leads to a cascade of events that has your mind practically exploding with endless questions, and with the way Atsumu has been acting, you want clear answers, and you’ll get them one way or another—even if it meant arguing in the twins’ shared apartment on a late Thursday afternoon.

chapter content warning: college au, mentions of alcohol use, intoxicated characters, cockblocker suna (rip), angst, hurt/comfort, awkward tension, atsumu & reader are dumbasses, arguing, light smut (mdni; nothing too explicit), nsfw, implied unprotected s*x, fluff towards the end yay, kita graduates from uni!, mutual pining, slow burn, requited unrequited love, friends to lovers, not beta read.

word count: 6.1k

notes: AAACKKKK last chapter!! also happy 1 month to this series !! i’m surprised i got to finish this in less than 2 months lmao considering how slow i am w writing :< divider: cafekitsune.

Light. Everything felt light—your head, body, voice, heart.

It felt like all the weight of your shoulders had been lifted, and you could be as carefree as a bird soaring through cerulean skies to be one with the wind. Because right this very moment, nothing mattered at all, not even the fact that you stood before the person you’ve been trying to avoid since the new year rolled around.

Tucked neatly at the back of your mind like a silent reminder, you knew you shouldn’t trust your intoxicated self right now—whether it be your thoughts or feelings but the urge to stop wasn’t there, and you felt extremely optimistic about this—all thanks to the burning alcohol that clouded every bit of your judgement.

Everything felt right.

As you met his caramel gaze, your vision tunnelled, everyone, and everything that surrounded both of you slowly turned into nothing but a mix of hazy hues, upbeat music that spilled from the speakers fading into the distance as you, and Atsumu entered your own world—even the orange-haired male with the bright, doe eyes melted away from your view.

Just you, and Atsumu, exactly how it was supposed to be.

With a bated breath, Atsumu wordlessly nodded, and awaited your next move, as if shackled in a hazy trance. He was fully aware of the thundering heartbeat that rang in his ears, the way his slender fingers ever so slightly dug into the scarlet plastic cup in his hand, cheeks burning with unexplainable emotions.

“Let’s talk somewhere else.”

It took all the effort for Atsumu to ignore the feeling of your bare skin against his, the searing touch of your fingers around his wrist as you hurriedly whisked him away into the intimate space of their kitchen, as if to shield you both from everyone else’s prying eyes. Despite a stained judgement, the blonde was sure no one gave a single damn if you were to talk it out in the living room, everyone was in their own buzz anyway.

Nonetheless, Atsumu let you take the lead, whatever you wanted, he obliged. As though he was floating on cloud nine, his body became lighter with each step taken, head lightly spinning, warmth that radiated from your palm seeped into his flushed skin, prickly, miniature kisses engulfing his body.

“I’m okay now.” Resting your lower back against the ivory granite countertops, you stare up at Atsumu through your lashes, not noticing your lingering fingers curled around his wrist. For a brief moment, your breath hitched, stomach churning at the sight before you. The lighting behind Atsumu made him look like absolute heaven, flaxen strands glowing like the first rays beneath the warm illuminant, casting an ethereal halo at the back of his head. It didn’t help how he stared down as if your eyes held the cosmos in them, completely awestruck.

Whatever, you chalked it up to his intoxicated state. What else could it have been?

For a brief moment, Atsumu wracked his brain for context behind your words, and as the invisible lightbulb atop his head switched on, he was reminded of the situation at hand. It definitely pulled his consciousness into sobriety. Just a tad bit.

“A-are y’sure?” A breathless, almost dainty whisper slipped past his rosy lips. He took note of the way your gaze shifted ever so slightly downwards, eyes crudely lingering on the plush of his bottom lip as his tongue briefly swiped against it.

Atsumu’s Adam’s apple bobbed at your not-so-subtle stare, stomach churning with want. He knew this feeling all too well—it visited him whenever he was alone in his room, mind wandering over to thoughts of you which filled every corner of his mind; sometimes the feeling was too strong, other times he could bear it. Tonight, though, Atsumu wasn’t sure if he was immune to this feeling, let alone erase any impulsive thoughts from his intoxicated mind.

What pulled you into this decision was something you’d never figure out; maybe it was the fact that your yearning heart grew tired of the icy distance between the two of you or maybe you’ve truly come to terms with his unreciprocated feelings—you didn’t know. All you knew was that nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations, especially when it involved feelings. But this could be an exception, right?

“So . . Does that mean we can be friends again?”

It was weird. Atsumu’s voice brimmed with a sense of hope—as if he’s been waiting for this very moment for the past two weeks—but the strange glint in his caramel eyes betrayed the blonde entirely.

Despite your better judgement, you chalked it up to the warm light that casted a soft shadow upon his features; maybe you were too dizzy to see things clearly, or maybe you were looking too deep into Atsumu’s expression—hoping to find some sort of sadness upon hearing your decision to move on, and accept his rejection.

Atsumu watched as your eyes traced his features, closely observing them as if to find some kind of answer; as selfish as it seemed, the intensity in your eyes gave him a tinge of hope that perhaps you could let yourself pine over him just a little longer because he wasn’t sure what he’d do with the knowledge that your heart would no longer yearn for him.

The situation was a double-edged sword, really.

You let out a puff of breath, “Yeah, of course. We’re friends again.” Friends. That word should have given you more relief than sorrow but could you really blame yourself? It felt like a bitter reminder of cold rejection which resembled salt pressed against an unhealed wound, a searing itch that left your skin feverish.

Even if it meant selling yourself short.

Avoiding his eye contact, you swiftly unwound your fingers from his wrist, mentally cursing yourself for not noticing any sooner. A cold embrace engulfed Atsumu’s wrist, where your fingers were mere seconds ago, he tried his best to ignore how his body yearned for your warmth. He gave a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

For a moment, you stood in each other’s silence like two predators sizing up one another, eagerly waiting for one’s move before pouncing, the silent hum of the fridge making up for the lack of conversation between one another.

How strange, this agreement should have cleared the unsettled air between you, and Atsumu but why did it feel like the complete opposite? As if the air turned into something more uncertain. You both knew you could feel the uncanny tension rising up, up, up but not one dared to address it.

Swiftly burying it under the rug, Atsumu spoke, thinly slicing through your trance, “You’ll find someone better.”

God, he must’ve really matured this new year because he didn’t know how he was able to say that straight to your face. Being one to wear his heart on his sleeve, this was completely foreign for Atsumu—or maybe he just got better at masking his true emotions.

You closed your eyes upon hearing his response, as if doing so would help you brave the weight of his words. It didn’t. That was the last thing you wanted Atsumu to say to you, ‘someone better’, it was brazen of him to think so poorly of himself, as though he wasn’t that certain someone. It was entirely unfair on your end because who was Atsumu to determine which person was for you?

Even just thinking about it had you fuming, rejection was one thing but completely disregarding the reason behind your feelings for him was another because in your eyes, Miya Atsumu was that ‘someone better’; he was the one who understood you the most, the one who always looked out for you, the one you fucking wanted.

And despite your mind telling you to nod along, and suck it up, the alcohol in your body was stronger; so, you opened your eyes, and furrowed your brows at him,

Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.

“But I don’t want anyone better, Tsumu. I want you.”

Atsumu’s eyes widened, the desperation in your voice was something he hadn't heard before, it definitely pulled at his heart, guilt gnawing at his skin for being the sole reason for your drunken actions. He may be drunk but he wasn’t stupid, Atsumu knew you should’ve kept that one to yourself, he could practically see you brimming with temerity but he’d be lying to himself if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat or two.

I want you, too. God, he wanted to say it back badly. The words were lodged in his throat, unable to slip past his lips despite the best efforts to do so.

It dawned on him—right then, and there—the severity of your feelings for him, the immense weight of it. Now, guilt really ate him away; he could only imagine how the past two weeks were for you. Did you cry while thinking about him?

That was the last thing Atsumu wanted.

Though, amidst the guilt, something else blossomed in his chest, it made him feel like he stood upon the highest pedestal. Atsumu didn’t know whether it was pride or greed; as fucked up as it was, he couldn’t bring himself to push the impulsiveness away as though you’ve infected him with your own. His heart hammered at a thought that formed in his mind, even just thinking about it stirred his chest.

Despite Atsumu’s better judgement, he held onto the feeling with a tight grip, and opened his mouth, tongue nervously swiping at the bottom lip,

Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.

“Is . . Is it bad that I really want to kiss you right now?”

You sucked in a breath, heart pounding at Atsumu’s sudden confession. If you were sober, you’d have a million thoughts racing through your mind right now, questioning the feelings he really had for you but unfortunately, only one thing was on your mind—how badly you wanted to kiss Atsumu too.

Dragging yourself further down, down, down the void of uncertainty, you shook your head in a daze,

Nothing good ever came out of inebriated conversations.

“What if I say I want to kiss you, too?”

Barely audible but Atsumu heard it just fine over the pounding of his heart, over the incoherent conversations beyond this kitchen, over the muted bass music because as long as it's you, he’d always listen, even if it meant drowning out the entire world.

Then, there was a heartbeat, a passing second, a dip of a finger to test undisturbed waters; the funny thing was that even a minute disturbance could cause a ripple effect for miles, and miles, awakening the dormant creatures that lay beyond the azure surface.

It was swift, as though Atsumu had been waiting for this very moment to happen—one second you were locked in a trance, the next his lips were pressed against your own, a shared warmth of intimacy searing both bodies in an eternal blaze like a blue flame that dangerously destroyed everything in its path.

Shy. Warm. Soft. Rosy. Like it was meant to be. The list could go on, and on but it was as though your thoughts came quickly before your mind could register them, leaving you in a white, empty haze. With the plastic cups long forgotten on the counter behind, you closed your eyes as Atsumu’s body eagerly pressed against yours, strong arms coming up to rest on the granite countertop behind you, fingers digging into the material to ground himself.

For a moment, everything was still, lips unmoving against each other, a time to bask in this newfound intimacy—the foreignness of one another’s body. The earth felt like it spun on its axis way faster than usual, as if day, and night merged to become one; hues of late dusk, and early dawn intertwined like your bodies.

Bitterness from Atsumu’s rosy lips lingered on your own; you never liked the taste of beer but oddly enough, you didn’t mind it at all.

Your hands cupped Atsumu’s jaw, fingers gently digging onto his soft skin, eager for more as your lips moulded together. Slowly moving his mouth against your own, you followed suit to match the sensual pace he had set, falling deeper, and deeper between the hazy boundaries of friendship, and something a little more. Low whimpers slipped past between each feverish kiss as a drunken greed gradually controlled your bodies.

The initial softness of the kiss dissipated as each second passed, slowly turning into something more carnal, and passionate—breaths becoming heavier, and faces eagerly pressed against one another, angled in a way to grant more access.

Was this what cloud nine felt like? Exhilarating? Euphoric? As though there was no one else—

“Oh!—Holy shit. Did I interrupt?”

A familiar voice violently pulled you, and Atsumu back into reality, swiftly jumping away from each other’s hold, and looking over to the owner of the voice. Suna. The brunette stared at both of you—looking like a deer caught in headlights, chests heaving—his expression was unreadable, almost like a mix of shock, and amusement. You, and Atsumu kissing in the kitchen was absolutely not in his new year bingo card.

Well, this encounter certainly was enough to strip you into sobriety.

Your head spun a little, lungs severely deprived of oxygen. Shame, and realisation settled deep in your bones—shame because Suna just caught you, and Atsumu almost sucking the soul out of each other, and realisation because everything about this whole situation was so wrong; a million questions formulated in your mind as each awkward second passed.

On the other hand, Atsumu was equally as horrified, albeit annoyed that he didn’t have the chance to kiss you longer. The thrumming of his heart pounded in his ears, his mind trying to come up with anything to say just to stop the thoughts formulating in Suna’s mind—oh, he knows that look on his friend’s face very well.

Your view became obstructed by the expanse of Atsumu’s back, a subtle attempt to block you from the brunette’s gaze.

“W-what the hell, Suna?! Don’t jus’ barge into the kitchen, ya scrub!” Atsumu tried his best to act tough but miserably failed with the shakiness in his voice betraying him.

As if to make matters worse, Suna didn’t back down, a smug look painted on his flushed face as the blonde shamelessly blamed him,

“Well, how was I supposed to know that you two were sucking each other’s faces in the kitchen?!”

Did he have to word it like that?

Atsumu opened, and closed his mouth, trying to think of ways to deny Suna’s accusations but his mind went blank, even with just the brunette mentioning your kiss had him blushing like a mad man. Silence yet again occupied the kitchen, low bass music spilled from the speakers, and incoherent chatters from beyond the space making up for the lack of conversation.

Before the situation could get even more awkward, you spoke up, “I . . think I’m just going to go . . ” This gained both their attention, carefully watching as you navigated past Atsumu, and out the kitchen.

The blonde watched as you staggered past him, and Suna; he wanted to go after you, and talk about what just happened but the soles of his feet stayed rooted on the ground, too heavy to lift, even the words he wanted to say were lodged in his throat.

So, Atsumu decided it was best to let you go.

Monday.

Everyone’s enemy but also a day to gather around the campus coffee shop with friends, and be productive for a while. The calming aroma of coffee engulfed your senses; low chatter from other customers, faint jazz music, and the occasional hum of the coffee machine filled the table from the lack of conversation. Despite the café’s light ambience, it didn’t do much to hide the growing tension that surrounded the group, specifically you, Atsumu, and Suna.

Kita was the first to notice the subtle shift of aura that emanated from you three, especially after catching a glimpse of Suna’s narrow eyes trailing from you to Atsumu over his laptop screen; though, he had much more things to worry about than to indulge himself in whatever tomfoolery this was. He’d ask questions later.

On the other hand, Osamu was more than curious, especially after his older twin started acting out of character—Atsumu wasn’t one to engulf himself in thoughts to the point where he’d be staring at an inanimate object, in a complete daze but lately, Osamu has seen him behave as such.

The latter could practically feel the weight of awkwardness pressing against his skin as he subtly watched the three of you. Of course, he did his best to pry off information from the blonde only to no avail; Osamu didn’t know why Suna was even caught up in this but he suspected it was from the party a few days ago.

He remembered seeing you stumble out of the kitchen when he was on his way to grab more drinks from their fridge, the younger twin thought nothing of it until he was met with Suna, and Atsumu awkwardly standing in the kitchen. Normally, Osamu would’ve asked questions that night but the alcohol in him couldn’t care less about the situation.

Staring at the untouched document pulled up on your laptop, you ducked behind your screen to avoid Suna’s wandering gaze, and Osamu’s not-so-subtle curiosity. This was hell. You didn’t even know why you decided to turn up today after that shit show at the party—maybe because you thought you could shove down that memory especially after telling Atsumu that you were fine or maybe you craved the closeness you two once had, and now you were here to rebuild that.

As easy as it sounded, you feared it might not be so with the way Atsumu has been avoiding you like the plague. First, it started when you walked into the café at the same time as the twins, Osamu greeted you at the door before heading inside leaving you, and Atsumu outside. Now, that would’ve been fine if the latter didn’t make a show of taking a couple of steps back to let you go first as though you carried some kind of incurable disease.

The second time was when Atsumu realised the only vacant seat was next to your own, thus, asking to swap with Osamu just so he could sit farthest away from you. And the third was when you had asked him if he was alright while waiting in line to order only to be met with a mindless nod before returning to his phone in his hand.

You tried your very best to ignore the blooming pain in your chest; sure, being sad about Atsumu possibly avoiding you was reasonable but then again, you were the one who told him you were okay now—how Atsumu decided to act after the party was beyond your control.

God but it pissed you off. Swallowing one’s pride, and making effort to rekindle a cold friendship was not an easy feat when the other doesn’t do the same. It shouldn’t work you up this much but it did, and now you were second guessing yourself that maybe it was an irrational decision to abruptly tell Atsumu that you’ve come to terms with moving on.

That night at the party, were you lying to yourself just so you could be around him again?

Whatever. It was too late to take it back anyway.

The days ahead were monotonous, and boring; you, and Atsumu remained orbiting around one another, careful not to get into each other’s path of trajectory but it was tiring. Not only did it feel like navigating through eggshells while he was around but the constant questions from your friends tested your limits. Though, it wasn’t their fault for simply being curious, and getting left in the dark about the whole situation but the prying felt like endless jabs of sharp needles along your skin.

From their point of view, you, and Atsumu were stubborn about the whole situation. None dared to speak up about it, acting as though everything was fine, so your friends were left with very little to work with.

It felt like a game of cat, and mouse where you were the feline chasing Atsumu around. The longer the days dragged on, the more thoughts formulated in your mind, and they all involved the blonde in some way or another. And just like everyone else, you had your limits too; you were tired of Atsumu acting like a stubborn idiot.

When you confessed to Atsumu, sure, you expected an awkward phase but this was even worse. There wasn’t just distance between the two of you, it felt like you were strangers.

He was known for brashly saying the sharp truth, so why couldn’t he be straightforward with you? Was he disgusted by the kiss, and deeply regretted it? Did he think you were weird? You didn’t know, but you were bound to find out even if it meant knocking at the twin’s apartment door at 5:45 PM on a cold, rainy Thursday.

With the sun hidden behind the looming grey clouds, the late winter afternoon was even darker; the roads were packed with vehicles while the sidewalks occupied students, and company workers alike trying their best to shield themselves from the heavy downpour. Despite the streets being illuminated with a tinge of warm yellow from cars, and streetlights, it did nothing to brighten up the gloomy day.

Funny, it was as though the universe knew how you felt today.

“If yer lookin’ for ‘Samu, he won’t be back until 8 PM.” Greeted with Atsumu’s shocked face as the ivory door to their apartment opened, you couldn’t help but visibly roll your eyes at his stubbornness. Yeah, like you’d be here at their apartment looking for Osamu—you knew each of their timetables like the back of your hand.

Flaxen strands that sat atop his head were unruly, a sign that he must’ve been taking a nap sometime ago. Atsumu donned a light blue hoodie paired with black sweats; you tried your best not to ogle the man, after all, you were here for a sensible talk.

“I’m here for you, Miya.”

Atsumu gripped the metal handle a little tighter, the coolness of it seeping into the warmth of his skin. He tried not to flinch at the sudden formality of the conversation. Nonetheless, the blonde pulled the door wider, a wordless invite to their humble space. Giving him a small smile before walking inside, you tried not to think about the last time you were here, and how you found yourself drunkenly kissing Atsumu in their kitchen.

The sound of the door closing shut behind Atsumu reverberated throughout the walls of their apartment, followed by a deafening silence. Met with his honeyed stare, you awkwardly coughed, and played with the hem of your jacket, “I’m not going to take up too much of your time . . but I do just have one question.”

There was a momentary silence as Atsumu waited for you to proceed; he had so many questions running through his mind right now, and it took all his willpower to hold them back, and let you speak instead. It was getting harder, and harder to focus as each second passed with the pounding of his heart—Atsumu didn’t know what to expect.

“Did you—Did you regret that kiss . . ?”

Your skin burned as the question lingered in the air, a beat or two before Atsumu finally spoke up, “. . N-no, why’d ya ask?”

Sighing, impatience prickled your feverish skin. ‘Why’d you ask?’ What the hell does he mean by why would I ask? We made out for fuck sake, that’s something friends don’t do! Why is he acting so casual about it?

“God, this just made it a lot worse. I have so many fucking questions that my mind wants to explode right now,” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you slowly paced back, and forth, the floors beneath silently creaking with each step. So, Atsumu didn’t regret the kiss but he’s acting like you’re strangers—fucking hell, why did he even kiss you in the first place?!

Your mind was a complete mess.

Trying to calm yourself down with slow, deep breaths, you decided to address the elephant in the room first, “Then why have you been avoiding me, Atsumu?—I’m sorry but I’m the one who got rejected, I cannot think of any reason why you should be avoiding me like this.” Atsumu hated that look on your face—the desperation, the sadness, the frustration. He never thought that he’d be the one making you feel all these negative emotions, and it pained him as much as it pained you.

Atsumu let out a sigh, carefully formulating the right words into a coherent sentence, “I’m just . . trying to be careful, okay?” His stomach dropped as your face contorted with more confusion.

Did he say something wrong?

“Careful about what, Atsumu?! You—ugh! It’s so hard to talk to you when you’re giving me all these stupidly vague answers! I’ve already told you I was fine. I don’t care anymore that you don’t like me back. I just want us to be back to normal again.”

Now, it was Atsumu’s turn to be upset. He couldn’t bear the thought of you moving on so quickly, and that’s why he’s been acting distant lately; it annoyed him how easy it was for you to talk to him like nothing happened but Atsumu knew he couldn’t tell you the reason—why couldn’t you just try, and understand his situation? Rejecting wasn’t an easy task to do, especially if it was the person he had been hopelessly pining for.

“Well—maybe things aren’t meant ta back ta normal!”

What?

You stared at him for a second, brows furrowed as you tried to comprehend his words that lingered in the cold air of their apartment. Silence engulfed the two of you, the distant sounds of Hyōgo’s late afternoon rain seeping through the slightly opened window.

“Do you feel uncomfortable around me after knowing the fact that I have feelings for you? Is that it?” “God, no—I could never feel that way.”

It took all of Atsumu’s patience not to wrap his arms around you—he wanted to hold you against him badly; that defeated look on your face broke his heart but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Maybe Atsumu was the coward after all.

“Then tell me what’s wrong, ‘Tsumu!”

“It’s hard f’me as well, y’know?!” “What is?”

Atsumu closed his eyes, the words he’s been wanting to scream at the top of his lungs lodged in his throat, threatening to slip out. A wave of adrenaline rush coursed through his veins, heart pounding like crazy with this newfound high, it made him feel as though he was invincible—as if he could say anything, and everything without a care for its consequences.

Fuck it.

“Fuck—It’s because I like ya back, okay?! I always have! And rejectin’ ya was so goddamn hard f’me because I’m still not over ya. God, I think about ya every single second, and it pains me so much because yer already movin’ on, and ‘m still stuck here.”

What?

Flabbergasted, you stared at Atsumu all wide-eyed, the thrumming of your heart becoming increasingly loud against your ears as each slow second passed. Did he just say he liked you back? As though mother nature was watching, the rain outside poured harder; sounds of droplets of heavy water against the roof filled the silent apartment, pulling you back into reality.

“Then why—If you feel the same way then why did you reject me?”

When you knocked on the door to the twins’ apartment, you expected a sincere conversation with Atsumu, not him confessing his feelings out of the blue. You were absolutely speechless—you didn’t know whether to jump for joy because he actually does like you back or whether to massage your temples from pure confusion.

“Back then during the trip, ya told me ya weren’t ready for a relationship yet, and that ya only wanted ta confess ta get rejected n’ move on. I wanted ta respect yer decision, so . .”

Flashbacks of said conversation from the trip quickly came into mind, and how you told Atsumu about not being ready for a relationship yet.

Oh.

The weight of frustration from your shoulders slowly dissipated, the pent up annoyance you held in your heart was gone too. Suddenly, you weren’t so frustrated anymore after learning about the whole truth behind the situation. You were able to breathe better with the bad air finally cleared between you, and Atsumu.

Looking at it now, you felt absolutely silly. The whole situation turned out to be one big misunderstanding, it was almost laughable—now, you truly understood the essence of communication is key.

You let out a humourless laugh, “You’re so stupid, you know that?” Taking a few steps toward the blonde, you leaned your forehead against his chest, a hand coming up to curl into a fist to lightly hit it; a faint scent of his musky cologne lingered on the fabric of his hoodie, effectively invading your senses. Atsumu didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your torso, pulling your body flush against his before resting his chin on the crown of your head.

For a beat or two, you, and Atsumu remained in each other’s hold, basking in the cosy atmosphere.

“Would I be more stupid if I tell ya I want ta pick up where we left off at the party?”

Before you knew it your lips were sealed in a searing kiss—this time, it felt raw, all things passionate, and eager. Hands impatiently roaming each other’s unexplored bodies, sounds of wet kisses slowly filling up the apartment. The atmosphere shifted from cosy to something more sensual, light groans, and moans slipping in between each kiss.

Your hands rested on Atsumu’s golden strands, fingers gently tugging at it as he worked his lips down the column of your neck, teeth lightly nipping at the feverish skin. Atsumu focused on a certain spot just below your ear, nipping, and sucking at it which pulled a dainty whine from your lips.

“‘T-Tsumu—Ah!” You gasped, his tongue leaving trails of goosebumps beneath its sinful licks against your skin. He cursed under his breath, the dizzying tone of your voice awakening the slumbering carnal beast that resided in his core. With each dulcet moan that slipped past your swollen lips, Atsumu became greedier, he wasn’t going to settle for mere kisses on your skin—he needed to hear more.

Pulling away from your intoxicating scent, Atsumu looked down at you with parted lips, and hooded eyes, caramel gaze clouded with nothing but pure desire. “I think we should take this ta my room.” He panted.

Nodding at his proposal, hurried footsteps padded over to his room as though each second wasted was crucial. As soon as the door behind Atsumu slammed shut, his lips were on yours once again, strong hands deftly working on the layers of clothing you wore, slowly slipping them off of you one by one; Atsumu could practically feel himself shaking with nervousness, and excitement.

Discarding your top on the wooden floor beneath, Atsumu stared wide-eyed at your torso, both hands coming up to cup your breasts through the fabric of your bra, earning a low moan from you. The air of the room felt cold against your skin but Atsumu’s touch was enough to ignite you.

“So beautiful . .” He absent-mindedly gasped, a lovestruck look in his honeyed eyes.

Hands eagerly tugging at the hem of his hoodie, Atsumu swiftly pulled the fabric off his torso in one movement, golden strands tousled from the action. Goosebumps formed upon his sun kissed skin, bare torso met with the cold winter air; your eyes raked Atsumu’s physique up, and down, shamelessly ogling his muscled chest in all its naked glory. God, you used to just fantasise about this, and now it was served right in front of you on a silver platter.

You decorated each other’s skin with endless love bites, sinful hues of dark red, and purple peppered along your chest, and neck. Atsumu took his sweet time to savour every bit of you—your taste, your scent, your sounds, everything. He made sure to bask in your serene beauty, the gentle glow of your bare figure before utterly devouring you like a starved animal, ravaging your purity with carnal desire.

Atsumu let himself go at the raw intimacy of your bodies, the feeling of your sweet warmth brought tears of pleasure in his eyes as he pushed, and pushed towards the newfound ecstasy you both shared. The chant of his name slipped past your lips like a sinful melody, mere fuel to the relentless drive of his hips. But Atsumu held you dearly against his naked body through it all, fingers intertwined with your own as he keenly chased both your pleasures, choked out moans of your name whispered hotly against your sensitive skin.

And as you both tipped over the edge, Atsumu didn’t fail to tell you how much he loved you in between each pathetic moan as he painted your insides white, the dizzying pleasure contorting his handsome face in pure ecstasy. You held him in your arms, nails digging crescent-shaped marks on his skin, whispering saccharine praises to him as you let go, and emptied the words of your heart.

As the gentle aftermath of the passionate exchange rolled around, Atsumu held you in his arms, hearts beating as one, and lulling you both to sleep. The last thing you heard was a faint ‘I love you’ before passing out from exhaustion.

“‘Tsumu, what did ya want for—Oh my god! What the fuck?!”

A familiar voice abruptly pulled you, and Atsumu out of your sleep, followed by the loud bang of his door slamming shut. Muffled expletives from outside the room could be heard as you both stirred beneath the ivory sheets. “‘Tsumu, what the hell?! Ya should’ve warned me before I went into yer room!” Osamu yelled from the other side of the door.

Atsumu groaned, rubbing his face before turning to the door, “Shut yer trap! Ya should’ve knocked!” At his twin’s silence, he let out a sigh, and slung a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his naked body before closing his eyes once again.

You let out a soft chuckle, “We really need to stop getting caught. First, Suna, and now Osamu.” Atsumu hummed in response, too sleepy to even think or form a coherent sentence. Snuggling closer to him, you closed your eyes, and went back to sleep as well.

Oh, you could get used to this.

Winter slowly turned into spring as March rolled around—the end of the academic year.

Trees that were once bare slowly blossomed with flowers, hues of yellows, and browns were replaced with endless greenery, and frigid air became more welcoming like a warm embrace. Most importantly, the cold distance between you, and Atsumu no longer existed, instead, it was replaced by fluttering heartbeats, and fluffy moments that hinted at a sweet forevermore.

“There he is! How does it feel to be a fresh graduate!” Suna whistled as Kita walked over to the group, clad in a black academic gown with a matching trencher propped neatly on his head, the golden tassel on the cap swayed with every step taken; he donned a warm smile, one hand holding his well-deserved degree.

The buzz of excitement outside the venue was high, the graduation ceremony having finished just a few minutes ago. You were all surrounded by graduands, all with heartfelt smiles on their faces as they conversed with family, and friends alike.

As your friends fell into a merry conversation, a warm hand interlaced with your own, giving your hand a comfortable squeeze. Atsumu. Looking up at your boyfriend, he cheekily leaned into your ear, whispering an ‘I love you’ before slowly blinking at you, mirroring a cat’s action. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at his antics.

“Are you two lovebirds done, now?” Suna coughed, pulling you back into reality.

Met with amused expressions plastered on your friends’ faces, you, and Atsumu returned a sheepish smile before joining in their conversation. “Anyway, we were talkin’ about how we should celebrate Kita’s graduation. It can also serve as a treat for us for makin’ it through another academic year.” Osamu explained, earning a hum of approval from you, and Atsumu.

“How about a spring trip to Kyoto?” —

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tags: @ushijimaschubbs @tsumudoll @startlitsawamura @littlemiyastars @h3art-ablaz3 @eggyrocks @integers @rrosiitas @food8me @schelamski @honeytwo @nyaaa-cat @cherribxio @aloesstuff @bontensh0e @willshebloved @yogurtkags @hyori2 @hibernatinghamster @theepitomeofswag @yawnjjunz @animesimpingismyjob @acowboykisser @rntrsuna @rjreins @prodhyuka @loonalockley @cheesypuffkins87 @kos-misch @iluvaquaphor @stunie @cathyket @empress-pug-pug @plutoxxxworld @sunawhore @jaegerfiles

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum !

#.recs #s.haikyuu #this is going to be a LONG set of tags bc i know ima have sm to say. i did reread the last ch to put myself in tears again to fit the mood #vision tunneling when atsumu is there is so cute btw ): everything becoming background noise when he’s there ? also u write so pretty.#‘it took all the effort for atsumu to ignore the feeling of ur bare skin against his’ THAT ENTIRE SENTENCE FUUCK pretty ))):#‘so .. does that mean we can be friends again?’ no. date me . DATe. MEEEEEE. PLEASEEEEE #‘a searing itch that left your skin feverish’ yes i remember being in tears last chapter i remember it so vividly . my heart was shattered #ok the small smile after we move our fingers from his actually made me physically react idk why i pictured that 1 so clearly in my head but #‘i want you.’ ‘did you cry thinking about him?’ YEAH. YEAH I WAS CRYING IM TEARING UP RN JUST THINKING ABIUT CRYING PLS DATE ME PLS 😭😭😭😭😭PL #THE WAY I JJST GOT SHIVERS AG THE KISS. OH HOW IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT. IM ACTUALLY LIKE D: W A HORRENDOUS BLUSH RN OMG IM So WARM #god FUCKING DAMMIT SUNA FUUUUUCKKKKK YOUUUUUUUUUUUU #ok atsumu shielding us makes me feel some kinda way but also suna u asshole ‘how was i supposed to know u two were sucking each other’s fac #kita ? tomfoolery?? that’s so silly that made me giggle hehe 😭 he’s such a mood btw i love him #ATSUMU. u want to sit the FURTHEST AWAY FROM ME ? what do u think i have cooties ???? i kissed YOU so that means u have cooties too u GOOF #the gloomy rainy day. tying that in to how we feel. god yue you know to make my head explode (compliment)#‘if you’re looking for samu’ ???? did i hear you correctly ?? did i ??????? i don’t think so. u are testing me mr atsumu #‘miya.’ YEAH TELL HIM WHATS UP !!! (i am also ogling . sweats .. messy hair …. geez….)#atsumu you. YOU. you didn’t regret it !? so why r we not kissing rn . why am i calling you miya rn if u didn’t regret it. U TEL #YOU TELL ME. omg he did tell me. oh my eyes r in fact widening oh i am in fact blushing oh this is really something omg omg omg :’)#LIGHT GROANS AND MOANS SLIPPING? This is .. THIS IS … YUE … IM SO !!!! IM #THE TEETH NIPPING AT THE NECKKK GOD I AM ACTUALKY FEVERISH IM ACTUALKY TURNING ON MY FAN RN WTFFFF WTF WTF WTFMSMS #MOANING HIS NAME AND TYHEN HIM CURSING HNDER HIS BREATH PLS I JJST GOT ANITHER SHIVER DOWN MY SPINE #OGLING HIS MUSCLED CHEST YES I AM WHHHWEWWWWWWWW GOD #a faint i love you before falling asleep pls this is so soft. also this scene killed me i am a mess now i have no words #OSAMU ? THe door Slamming SHUT LMAO? OMFGGG WE KEEO GETTING CAUGHT FR #replaced by fluttering heartbeats ): oh no more tears for me yay!!! i can finally experience happiness now #YAYY CONGRATS KITA. omfg the last sentence yue this was fr so perfect i love you so much how am i reading this for free #oh i am so in love with this series oh my god ?? every chapter was so beautifully written im just in awe #the pacing the everything was so perfect . it all felt #i literally love them all. i love every part of this sm i mean it :’( this was such an awesome read fuck what do i do now (i hit 30 tags☹️)

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oceantornadoo · 1 month ago

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inspired by a dramoine fic i read! simon riley x f!reader

it’s the third time today someone has handed you simon’s paperwork and you’re starting to get confused. in fact, there’s the distinct feeling that you’ve missed a memo.

first, it was the visiting captain, so you couldn’t blame him for confusing lieutenants. but then it was johnny turning in his mission report, muttering something about “cannae be late this time if ah give it ye, lass.” which was odd, considering you weren’t his direct report (you were gaz’s). but what really sent you over the edge was getting called into price’s office and being met with a load of folders addressed to one Lt. Ghost (Confidential).

“sir, i’m a bit confused as to why you can’t just give these to him yourself.” price looked up from his desk, eyes flickering from under his boonie hat. “hav’ you seen ‘im today, lieutenant?” you nodded immediately while trying to scoop all of this paperwork (that was not yours!) into your arms. “yessir, i saw him before breakfast and then during training and then…what?” price had silently quirked an eyebrow, his beard echoing the movement. “i haven’t seen ‘im all day, so i figure it’s faster for you to deliver since you’re more well-versed in his movements than i am.” huh. “i’m sure he’s just doing his ghost thing, y’know? slipping into shadows and…”, price patiently gave you an exasperated look, “but i’ll get these to him, sir. see you later!”

the problem was, you knew exactly where simon was. in your office.

his own had an unfortunate ground level window near the track, so he was always complaining about nosy recruits until you offered to share some office space. temporarily, of course. it’s not like you were using all the empty space anyways and it made it much easier to get the opinion of your fellow lieutenant on a report by walking over to his desk, rather than going up and down stairs. that was the second point he made, and who were you to say no?

after pushing open your office door, you beelined for simon’s desk, dumping the stacks of folders on his desk. “wot’s this?” his mask was off so you could see his eyes widen at the mess of papers. “everyone now thinks i’m a drop off box for your paperwork, so i got burdened with all of this when i was doing my rounds.” he nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his tea. “cheers, love.”

“what do you mean, cheers? don’t you think it’s odd for them to give me your paperwork? and why do we even have so much paperwork? i swear im drowning in it this week.” he snorted at your last sentence, opening the first folder in front of him while you rounded your desk, sitting in your comfy chair with a hmpf. “yer out an’ about more than me, tha’s all.” well, that was true. the infamous ghost was not known to be a sociable person on base. “i guess…” you turned to your old radio, passed down by a retired captain, and turned on simon’s favorite classical station.

“ya want mess or the pub tonight, love?” another great thing about being on base with simon - you never had to pay for dinner. “actually, that thai place we like is doing a special tonight.” he gave you a half-smirk, one cheek ticking up. “bloody raccoon. we had thai two nights ago.” you didn’t respond, instead blinking your best impression of puppy dog eyes at him. simon sighed, then shook his head at his desk. “olrigh’. the things i do.” you smiled and winked, dipping your head back down to your desk. “thanks, si.”

two weeks later, you were prepping for a duo mission with simon. price had been grilling the two of you for the past three hours, making sure you had everything memorized. satisfied, he leaned back in his office chair and rubbed his temples, the feeling of a headache coming on. “one more thing.” both of you snapped your head up at price, desperate to leave and eat. you’d already missed dinner and your stomach was complaining.

“the safe house is pretty small, basically a shack. one bed, no couch. i assumed ‘s fine since y’r datin-“ “‘s fine, captain.” simon cut him off, an out of character move that had you frowning. “it’s fine, cap. not like ive never slept on a floor before.” now price was frowning at what you said. he turned to simon, who shook his head imperceptibly before becoming still again. price’s brow furrowed but he didn’t push further. he got up from his chair, eyes flitting suspiciously between you two. “i’ll see you at 0600.”

“what was that about?” you whispered to simon after as you walked down the hall. “‘s nothin’.” you were missing something but it was so unclear what. “he thinks that we’re datin-“ “said it’s nothin’, sweetheart. he’s an old man. let’s get some food in you, yeah?” you nodded, letting him guide you to the kitchen. price wasn’t that old. and you were not dating simon riley.

the mission was beautiful, your best one in years. it was the first duo mission between you and simon, so the nerves of pulling your own weight had settled in hard. thankfully, your skills balanced each other out and you’d gotten the target in record time. now, all you had to do was wait in the safe house for exfil.

“you were so good.” you whispered once he’d locked the door. he only hummed a response, checking exit and entry points while you set up your packs, scrounging up MREs and testing the shack for electricity. price wasn’t kidding - it was practically a studio apartment. one bed, a bathroom and a decrepit stove. the soldier part of you was fine with it, but that small soft part of you ached for the warmth of your apartment. memories of yelling at simon for using all your shampoo even though he didn’t live there, of him running you a bath after a long day of training.

“you were good too, baby.” he snuck up from behind your spot on the floor and lifted you onto the mattress that had definitely seen better days. you hadn’t even checked it for bed bugs yet. “c’mere.” he pulled you into his lap, unbuckling your tac vest as you pulled off your bandana. you tugged off his mask - the hard shell since you were on a mission - and ran your nails through his short haircut. simon started kissing your neck, wet and sloppy like he couldn’t get enough. the unrestrained want he displayed sometimes scared you. the respective pulsing in both your chest and cunt scared you more.

“so are you sleeping on the floor or am i?” he flipped you over, your back flush with the mattress as simon loomed over you. there was still eyeblack around his eyes, caught on his blonde eyelashes as well, and you couldn’t help the hand that reached up to brush some of it away. “y’r funny, sweetheart.” you grinned at that - a real toothy smile. he bent down to kiss you, scarred lips caressing your own. simon bit your lip and you moaned, sliding your legs out from under him to wrap them around his torso. when you tugged him in he went willingly, grinding into your clothed cunt. his tac vest was still on, scraping against your shirt, hardening your nipples.

“keepin’ you in this bed all night.” cold fingers dipped past the waist of your pants. you were already wet, his fingers sliding easily up and down your slit as they warmed up. that’s when you realized he still had his glove on, his movements harsher than normal. wide eyes met his own, and simon stopped so you could make a decision.

it didn’t take much as you dug your heels into his back harder, meeting him in a sloppy kiss as his gloved thumb played with your clit. “fuckin’ made for me.” he whispered, and you chalked it up to dirty talk because obviously, you weren’t together. he just knew exactly what to do, giving your clit the right amount of pressure as his other fingers teased your hole, the stretch burning more than usual. it only took a few flicks and you were off, your orgasm settling through your bones like a warm cup of tea. “jesus, si.” he grinned, his scarred lips pulling up to show a beautiful smile. “know ya like th’ back of my hand, huh?” you shook your head, capturing the idiot in another kiss.

after the mission, after debrief and a hot shower, you made your way back to your base office. thankfully, paperwork had only slightly piled up. one envelope stood out though - a thick card-stock with glossy, swooping letters. an invite to london’s military gala, addressed to a Lieutenant & Lieutenant. simon’s name was next to yours, connected by a singular symbol. you turned to him in disbelief. simon had been going through his own backlog, but his head snapped up under the focus of your glare.

“simon, are we…dating?”

this was fun!!! check out the fic i linked it was so good and i couldn’t put it down.

#simon ghost riley #tornadothoughts #cod 141 #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #fluff #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x oc #fwb simon #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x f!reader

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chososdiscordkitten · 11 months ago

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Baby Fever?!

Synopsis: JJk men/reader have baby fever ≽^•⩊•^≼

Includes: 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 Content: afab!reader, topics of pregnancy, marriage, breeding, and having children. mostly nsfw (sorry anon) (a.n) Jesus my page has been full of baby fever nd marriage recently.

Dedicated to; this ask.

MDNI

Satoru Gojo

Ever since you first became official- Gojo had this little habit of asking to give you a baby. You always shook him off, telling him ‘no’ because it was far too soon and you were too young to start having children.

Birth control became a necessity because of the little need he had to finish inside of you.

On one occasion of him asking the incessant question- you leaned in real close to his ear, “I will impregnate you.” you whispered.

This unlocked a whole other can of worms in Satoru’s mind. The urge to breed you was strong, but that little promise lit a fire in his soul.

But one day, while out on a date- walking down an empty street, a child no older than 7 or 8 ran up to Satoru, Tears staining his cheeks and asking for his mom.

Though you hardly saw Satoru interact with children in your daily life, you could see his demeanor change from a normal playful one to a more serious and authoritative one.

Crouching down to the child’s height and asking where he last saw his mom and his name—all with calm.

You watched the little interaction unfold before you with wide eyes- the thought that Gojo was too immature to be a father completely being thrown from your mind as Satoru stood up straight and held the child’s hand in his. Guiding him back to where the child last saw his mom and reuniting the stressed mom and the crying child.

After that, more and more little instances Satoru did, made you start contemplating his little offer of giving you a child.

Whenever you’d go shopping with him, you’d always pretend to accidentally stumble across the baby aisle.

Gojo perked a brow, watching your eyes admire the little socks attached to the onside in your hands.

Corner of his lip curled up with a soft giggle, stepping over to you and whispering- “You’re actually considering having a kid?” he teased watching you furrow your eyebrows and hang the little onesie back on the rack.

You shoved him with your elbow, scoffing and making a mental note to never bring this up again.

That night, you were scrolling on your phone- watching any video that popped up of a chunky baby with a soft expression.

Satoru was beside you, focused on his phone, but the sound of a child’s laughter made him look over at you with furrowed eyebrows- peeking over to your phone and watching the tiktok you were looking at.

Some video of a mom showing their child’s massive hair bows- he was about to laugh at how silly the baby looked. Only he scanned your expression and got a hint as to why you hadn’t scrolled yet.

Satoru rolled atop you, resting his head on your sternum and urging you to put your phone down.

Holding his head in your hands- “I can give you a baby if you want one so bad~” he teased, causing you to furrow your eyebrows.

Parting your lips with a soft gasp, “Satoru Gojo!” you feigned shock, whispering, “A child out of wedlock? What would the clan think?” you teased, mushing his cheeks together as he rolled his eyes.

Pulling your hands from his cheeks and hoisting himself up- face to face as he placed a hand between your thighs, urging you to open them.

Placing a kiss on your lips with a smile- “I am the clan.” he scoffed smugly.

Toji Zenin

It all started with one little sentence he littered during intercourse, legs bent to your chest, and Toji pounding into you like his life depended on it.

Something along the lines of, “Gonna breed this perfect pussy-” in a low husky tone. It was muttered- like his internal thoughts seeped from his lips without permission.

But the words stayed in your mind- long after you had cleaned off his copious mess from your center. Even as Toji was snoring next to you- you stayed up thinking about the words he had muttered into the air.

They made you squint thinking about the possibility of it. Questions you wish Toji was awake to ask him.

Rare were the times he would sprinkle dirty talk during sex. But the way he said it, it wasn’t meant to be heard as dirty talk. The way it sounded was he spoke it as a proclamation.

The next morning, when Toji woke up to your face pressed against his chest. Feeling your eyes watch him sleep, he woke up asking you what you needed.

“You want to-” air caught in your throat, recalling what he said. “..breed me?” you whispered, looking at his hazy eyes and furrowed brow.

Corner of his lip curled, “Where’d you get that idea?” he scoffed, closing his eyes and pretending not to feel your harsh gaze on his skin.

“From you- you said it last night.”

Toji nodded ‘no’. As though the idea of him saying that was impossible.

“Yes, you did- I heard you.” watching Toji’s smug face nod ‘no’ again.

“You can’t gaslight me Toji- I heard you.” Your determination amused the man- feeling his chest rise in a half laugh against your cheek.

Even a few days after- the thought lingered in your mind. Toji still refused to believe he said it- telling you that you were mistaken.

And then Toji caught onto the feverlike smile you’d get on your cheeks whenever you’d see a baby in public. Smiling to himself as you pinched your eyebrows at the little humans.

But there was this one time- on an elevator with a new mom and a baby in her hands. Toji noticed your staring as the woman struggled to reach into her purse, which caused it to fall and spill her belongings on the ground.

The woman sighed- looking down before peering her eyes back to you- “Could you?” she asked, holding out her baby to you- which you happily took and looked at Toji with the child in your arms.

Toji swore his eye twitched as he watched you- happily bouncing the child in your arms before the woman reached her hands back to her child.

After that, Toji started expressing his urgent need to breed you full of his children during intimacy- to which he still denied he said any of those things.

“Whatever- as long as you don’t become a deadbeat again, I don’t care.” you scoffed, referring to his son he refused to talk about.

Naoya Zenin

While he was dating you- Naoya took a lot of care in ensuring not to get you pregnant. “Children out of wedlock never result in anything good.” he would defend. He told you to start taking birth control- only you laughed in his face and said no.

That if he wanted to have safe sex- he would have to wear a condom. That you wouldn’t alter your body’s hormones just because he doesn’t wanna get you pregnant. And Naoya obliged.

Midway through sex, pulling his ear down to your lips and telling him how much better it would feel without a condom- only for his eyes to shut tight- trying to keep his focus on not cumming, going as far as telling you to shut up. Multiple times, knowing if you didn’t, he might just listen to you.

Though you liked teasing him with the possibility. Asking if he didn’t want to see you barefoot and pregnant, waiting for him at home. Watching his neck pulse with a low gulp just thinking about it.

In truth, you didn’t really want to get pregnant- Naoya had a point in the whole ‘marriage first, then kids.’ thing. You only liked watching his ears turn red and warm whenever you’d try and tempt him with having sex without a condom.

You didn’t think much of it- unknowing of the temptation brewing in Naoya’s mind with every waking day he didn’t marry you.

Every time you whispered a temptation in his ear- the mental image of you waiting for him at home, swelled with his child and the future of his clan—Naoya was hanging on a very thin thread.

And once he finally had the guts to ask you- it took very little time for the wedding to be planned. The thought of children was nowhere near your mind on the day.

A small ceremony with his family, prancing you around like some trophy in front of the elders.

And that night- Naoya held a gentle hand as he undid the little buttons of your wedding dress- carefully unwrapping you from the costly lace.

You found it odd- sure. Naoya wasn’t usually the type to take things slow and gentle in this department.

But when you looked at him, his hips between your knees with your back on the bed. Looking up at Naoya as he undid the buttons of his dress shirt- “We’re not stopping till you’re pregnant.” he huffed, tossing his shirt aside and easing himself onto the bed.

Had you known your little temptations and offers of unprotected sex would cause his brain to rewire the idea of having kids- you still would’ve done it. Maybe with a little more tact though.

Naoya no longer saw it as another responsibility of being head of the clan- he saw it as an opportunity to breed you again- and again. Till you were so full there was no other choice than to get pregnant.

Suguru Geto

All it took was Suguru showing you pictures of him and the two girls he adopted when he left Jujutsu High and telling you countless stories behind the photos for you to look at him differently.

You saw a certain change in the way you looked at him. No longer a father figure to two teenage girls, you saw him as an actual father.

Mouthy and mean as those girls could be, you saw how gentle he was with them anyway. And you knew he could make a phenomenal father.

You chose a tactless form of asking him. Sitting at the table eating breakfast- looking at his soft expression.

“Would you be a dad again?”

Suguru looked at you with furrowed eyebrows- “...Again?” unsure of when the first time he became a father was.

You rolled your eyes, urging him to answer the question with a sigh.

“Depends.” Geto murmured, looking back down to his phone and earning a kick from your socked foot.

You scoffed, “On?”

“If we are stable- money wise, and if the conditions are right.” he grinned, wondering where this topic came from.

Your cheeks tingled in the slightest when he used ‘we’ to refer to becoming parents, answering another question you had.

Suguru thought back to the question again, lightly raising his eyebrows at realizing what you were asking.

“With…You?”

You laughed- “No Suguru- with your next partner.” tone full of sarcasm as he rolled his eyes.

“I would be open..?” he squinted, trying to gauge where you stood on this. Watching your face go unchanged at his response- wanting to hear the truth, not just something that he said catered to your opinion. “...To it?”

You grinned, “Suguru, this isn’t a trick question. Just answer honestly.” assuring him that this was a necessary conversation in a relationship.

He gulped lightly, trying to shake away the worries of saying the wrong thing. Placing his phone on the table and looking at you with his hands between his knees. “I would love-” he grinned, cheeks blushed and avoidant of your gaze. “To have children with you.”

You couldn’t help the shy little laugh that left your lips- “But we are a smidge too young- don’t you think?” you grinned, watching his head nod with a scoffing smile.

“I did the teen dad thing- so maybe a little too young.” he joked-

You nodded agreeingly, looking at him with love filled eyes- “We’ll wait till we are 40.” you grinned, watching his shoulders move in a small giggle.

“Till 50- if we can.”

Kento Nanami

You both had been toying with the idea of children. Small comments like, “Awe Ken-” looking at him with a soft smile. “You would be a wonderful dad.” whenever he talked about the fears of becoming a father.

The talk of kids was spoken early in your relationship. Often were the times when the conversation of how many would come up a few minutes before bed.

Playing with your hand in the dark, lying on your back with Nanami beside you.

“How many?” You asked softly- hearing Nanami hum, close to falling asleep.

A low exhale left his lips; “Two. Maybe three.” His voice husky from how close he was to falling asleep. But he was always happy to answer your questions- knowing they would keep you up if he didn’t answer.

Rolling over onto your side and placing your head on his chest, “Twins?” you asked with a smile. Picturing the future with him as he put his hand onto your back.

Nanami let out a soft exhale with a smile. “Twins are a handful,” he spoke softly, his eyes daring to drift off to sleep as you caressed his torso.

You thought about it- remembering that you would have to carry them. “Okay. No twins.”

Hearing his heartbeat against your ear as you thought of another question.

“When?”

Nanami gruffed a soft laugh, rubbing small circles on your back. “We’d have to be married first.” he mumbled.

“Then wait a year or two.” his voice dwindling its tone as he eased into the exhaustion.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Why?” softly blinking your eyes.

“A year of blissful marital life before children come into the picture.” Nanami spoke, half asleep, as the tiny part of his brain that filtered his words refused to work.

You grinned, “You wanna marry me?” softly giggling against his chest.

Nanami sighed- pressing his hand onto your back a little firmer, holding you close. “I do. Dunno why I haven’t ask you yet.” his words breathy and bordering on sleeping.

“Should get on that-” he exhaled, hearing his breathing ease into a heavier pattern against your ear.

After that, conversations about children only came up more and more. There was talk of names and if you’d move into a house instead of an apartment.

Slowly your own baby fever stuck onto him- you sending tiktoks of the chunky babies you’d get on your fyp didn’t help either.

The words “Practicing won’t hurt” were uttered whenever you mentioned the word breeding. All too thankful to the iud you had, knowing the apartment would be crawling with children if you didn’t have it.

Hiromi Higuruma

When you started letting Hiromi cum inside- he kinda just assumed that you were on something. Never hesitating to give you what you asked him for.

But Hiromi started getting the hints that you had a particular itch in your brain that only he could scratch.

The topic came up when you joined him for lunch- sitting outside a sandwich shop and hearing Hiromi talk about a case debriefing after this.

Too focused on telling you about it before he realized you had stopped listening.

Eyes looking off to the side and your thumbs twiddling in your lap.

“Honey?” he asked, looking in the direction you were looking and seeing a mother playing with her child. Snapping your gaze back to him-

“Sorry.” Softly exhaling, “Sorry- you were saying?”

Hiromi furrowed his eyebrows, watching your eyes glimmer with a nervous light. Reaching a hand out to yours, “What’s wrong?” he asked- all too intuitive at what the look on your face meant.

“Nothing- it’s okay.” Squeezing his hand assuringly.

Hiromi raised a brow- parting his lips about to speak only for you to interrupt him.

“Do you want kids?” preferring to rip the bandaid off rather than ease into a conversation.

He inhaled again- only for you to speak again. “With me. I mean.”

The corners of his lips curled, almost in a teasing smile.

Hiromi sighed, thinking about the question and looking down to his half-finished sandwich.

“I’ve never been in a relationship serious enough for the talk of children to come up.” he grinned, leaving your question unanswered.

“You’ve never thought about it?” holding his hand tightly. Scared that you were illusioning yourself into a future Hiromi didn’t want.

Hiromi tilted his head- thinking about it.

“I think I do…?”

You pursed your lips, unsatisfied with the half answer. And Hiromi let out a blushed scoff- “If wanting kids meant wanting them with you- i do.” he clarified. Earning for you to look at him with soft eyes and a wiggling pout.

“You mean-?” you pouted, looking at him with a soft expression.

His eyes widened at the sudden severity in your gaze, not knowing how much his confirmation meant to you.

Raising his hand to your lips and pressing a light peck on his knuckles “Can we?”

“...Now?”

You scoffed, “No, not now.” with a soft smile.

Hiromi exhaled, thinking of having an actual child- “How ’bout we focus on getting married first?”

Choso Kamo

Ever since the first time you had sex- Choso always finished inside, no patience nor ability to time his orgasm and pull out in time.

Not recalling the repercussions of unprotected sex- nor really caring.

And when the conversation of children came up- You insisted on giving him an army of children. “I think it’s what you deserve.” To which he looked at you as though something awakened in his mind when you said that.

While on dates, he would see an overly large family struggling to keep the many children in check. He would look at you and remember what you had said.

‘An army of children.’

Between the two of you- he caught babyfever first.

Walking through a strip mall- looking for a new pair of shoes when you passed a baby store.

Choso tugged your hand, looking at you eagerly and leading you into the store. “Just to look,” he said.

Holding onto a tiny pair of shoes, looking at you, and presenting them in his palm. “Are these really meant to fit a child?”

You let out a small giggle, nodding your head yes and watching him prattle around the store.

Asking you questions- as though you had any more idea than he did.

Watching your face uninterested in the window shopping he was doing- “You don’t want to have kids anymore?” furrowed eyebrows and determined to cut the window shopping if you didn’t.

You grinned, “Of course I still want to have kids.” taking his hand and placing it on your tummy as though you were already pregnant.

Eyes wide and cheeks pink as he rested his hand onto your tummy. “You gotta pump a baby in me first.” Smiling at the fact he was already looking for things for a child that hadn’t been conceived yet.

His mind sparked the idea of watching you grow big with his child. Made his eye twitch knowing that if you acted on your promise. That image wouldn’t be just an idea in Choso’s mind.

Marriage didn’t make a difference to him- only a meaningless piece of paper. Like a license, or a ssn number, or money. (he’s in denial)

So the next time you had intercourse- Choso accidentally overstimulated himself. Keeping your words of ‘Pump a baby in me.’ in mind as you allowed him to pump you full of potential children.

You did say an army of them. And Choso was more than happy to assist in creating the small army.

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭: play fighting with the jjk men!

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