#so the shoulders and bits are a tad odd me thinks

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Casually calling him daddy; Caleb

Word count; 922

Warnings; "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; Hope yall enjoy these updated drabbles!! <3

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You and Caleb weren't…well, technically, you weren't dating, but you weren't exactly sure what to call it. Your relationship is the same it's always been.

The usual cuddling, hand-holding, pretending to date to thwart love confessions…

And you were trying to figure out how exactly to push the envelope just a step further.

As you were scrolling through decade old apps, you found a TikTok compilation.

Now, you weren't exactly sure what TikTok was since it was, at least, 20-years old, but you decided to watch the video anyways since you were doom scrolling in bed at Caleb's home.

As you were watching, one trend caught your eye.

It was the aptly named “calling your boyfriend daddy” trend and while you didn't have a boyfriend…you did have Caleb.

You weren't exactly sure what kinks Caleb had, but whether his reaction was sexual, disgust, or whatever it may be, you wanted to see. So, with that thought in mind, you get up and call your OTTO into the room.

“Hello, master, what do you need help with today? Do you need breakfast? Master Caleb left two hours, thirty-five minutes, and 40 seconds ago to go to work. He won't be home until–”

“Thank you so much for that, OTTO, but I needed something else.” You quickly cut the circular robot off, feeling a bit bad for doing so, but you doubt its feelings would be hurt. “Whenever Caleb gets home and we start cooking, can you switch to your recording mode?”

“I can do that. Any video saved will go straight to Master Caleb's phone.” The bot says as it flies around your head and you shrug, “That's fine with me. Let me know when he gets home!”

Now, you just need to figure out how you'll seamlessly bring the word up in conversation with Caleb…

“He's home! He's home!” OTTO shouts, almost excitedly, as it speeds around the house similarly to an overexcited dog. Though, its warning was a tad too late as Caleb steps in the door while the bot is excitedly yelling.

“You missed me so much, you got OTTO to tell ya when I get home?” He laughs as he takes his Colonel hat off, setting it on the coffee table.

“Maybe…” you grab his hat, putting it on as you shove him toward his room. “Go get changed, I'm hungry.”

“Alright, alright. Geez, no need to be in such a hurry, pipsqueak.” He holds his hands up, allowing you to push him.

After he's changed, he joins you in the kitchen with OTTO flying steadily around the room.

“Did you tell OTTO to do something? It's acting realllly strange.” Caleb's eyes narrow as he shuts the rice cooker. “Nope, maybe it's broken.” You shrug, continuing to peel an apple.

You decided to make an apple smoothie for both you and Caleb, almost completely forgetting about your earlier plan. “Oh right…” you murmur under your breath.

How were you going to bring it up…

“What're you thinking about, pipsqueak?” Caleb rests an arm on your shoulder as he pokes the skin between your eyebrows. “What's got you furrowing your brows?”

“Well da– I mean, hmm…” you're honestly feeling a bit frustrated, but also embarrassed that you can't find a way to naturally insert this word into the conversation.

How come he can do it so easily when calling you pipsqueak?

Caleb raises a brow, leaning more into your view. “What did you say?”

“Ah, it's nothing.” You shove at his chest with a small laugh. “Give me some space, Caleb. You know I'm holding a knife, right?”

But as soon as you say this, you feel an odd pressure on your wrist. Your hand lets go of the knife and it clatters on the marble countertop.

“Caleb– ?”

He turns your body to face him, your back against the counter as he tilts his head to the side.

“Go on.”

“I wasn't going to say anything, seriously!” You can't help but laugh, turning your head to look away from him.

He didn't know exactly what you were going to say from just a few letters…right?

He grabs your chin, turning your head to face him. “Don't look away from me.” He jerks his chin up as he looks down at you. “Go ahead, say what you were going to say. I'm waiting.”

Embarrassment along with…something else was boiling in the pit of your stomach and you let out a low, panicked whine, lightly stomping your foot.

Suddenly, you felt like you couldn't say anything. So tongued that you just kept your mouth shut.

A sharp laugh escapes Caleb and his grip tightens around your chin. “Alright, brat. You really don't want to say it?” He hums, eyes flitting from yours to your lips. “Then I guess that means…no braised chicken tonight?”

“Huh–” you owlishly blink at him, before finally coming back to life. “That's not fair–!”

“Then…Say. It.” Caleb clicks his tongue, slowly leaning forward so his forehead rests against yours.

“I…ugh.” You sigh, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “I'm sorry…daddy.”

“Good girl.” He hums with a content smile, dipping his head down to lightly peck your lips before suddenly, he's gone. “Now get back to your smoothie.”

Your face was red as you stared at his back. How the hell was he so unphased!?

That's so unfair.

But as you puff out your cheeks in annoyance, you notice how one of his hands is balled up into a fist and his ears are a pretty shade of red.

Casually calling them "daddy" LADS

Word count; 1,913

Themes; slightly barely there suggestive content, fluff, established relationship

Warnings; mention of "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; So these turned out more fluffy than I originally intended...honestly, thought they'd be more smutty, but I've learnt that it's really difficult for me to write smut. Or at least, smut with little to no context before it all goes down. I might eventually write some smuttier drabbles, but regardless of smut, I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote!

You saw that there was an old trend about calling your boyfriend “daddy” and videoing their reaction so, obviously, you wanted to give it a try…

Xavier 

It's been almost a year since you and Xavier started dating– and it was a wonderful eleven months! He told you everything about himself. What his future with you was like, all of his feelings throughout the centuries, and you listened. You wholeheartedly believed him, because it would be one hell of a lie if it wasn't true…and you didn't think Xavier had the time or energy to come up with a complex lie like that. 

But even if you now know, time moves on. There's not much you can do about your future self, so you can't really change the future in that way though…Xavier's here now, in the past, and that's all that matters to you. 

Anyway, today was just a normal day as any. 

You were sitting at the counter, keeping a close eye on Xavier– who was attempting to follow, yet another, cooking tutorial. The man was desperate to cook a decent meal for you. His heart dead set on making you something edible for your upcoming year anniversary…and while that was cute, you also wanted to mess with him. 

You push your cup just out of your reach and make a big show of trying to reach for it, before sighing loudly. 

“Daddy, can you pass me my drink please?” 

You can hear the clang of a spatula hitting the floor and you watch Xavier’s body comically whip around to face you. 

“What?” His head cocks to the side as his wide eyes were set on your face. “Say that again..”

“Hmm? I said ‘Xav, can you pass me my drink, please’.” You copy his head tilt and he quickly shakes his head.

 “No, no you didn't.” He takes a few steps toward you before grabbing your hand in-between both of his. “Say it again.” 

You couldn't resist his sweet puppy dog eyes, so you hold back a smile as you meet his eyes. “I...called you daddy.” 

“Really?” He seems unusually excited. “So are we��?” His gaze lowers to your stomach and you can’t help the giggle that slips from your lips. 

Gosh, he was so cute. 

“Baby– no, no. We're not pregnant.” You run your fingers through his hair with a smile on your lips. “Are...you disappointed?” 

“Mmh..” Xavier hums thoughtfully for a moment before he shakes his head. “No. We can just make it a reality later. No need to rush.” 

Zayne 

You and Zayne have only been dating for six months, but it felt like much longer. Having known each other since you were little, you both had always been close– well, your definition of close and his were probably different. You always thought of him as a friend while he tried to keep a distance and thought you hated him. But time brought you both back together with him as your primary care physician. 

The two of you had been flirting up until his birthday and finally made it official once he blew his candles out on the cake you made for him. It was a sweet time, but that was six months ago. 

Now, though, you really want to fluster the man. 

He always embarrasses you and makes you feel nervous, but you never get to see him that way. Sure, his ears will turn red and sometimes he won't meet your eyes when you get too intense with him, but you've never seen him absolutely shocked. And you just wanted to see one look of surprise from him. 

So, what did you decide to do? 

You decided to casually call him "daddy” as a joke.

That should definitely go over well. 

Zayne is seated behind his desk at the hospital, sorting through papers as you longue on his sofa. Your eyes continuously glancing toward the windows to make sure the door was shut and the blinds were closed. 

“If you keep staring at the door, you just might burn a hole through it.” Zayne says, though he didn't even look up from his paperwork. He was attentive like that and probably already knew you wanted something or you were ready to go home. And he was right. 

“When are we going home…daddy?” You ask as you kick your feet in the air behind you. You were on your stomach, resting your cheek against your arms as you watched his expression…which didn't change at all. 

"Just give me a few more minutes, angel, and I'll be done.” Zayne pushes his glasses up with his index finger and clicks his pen, jotting down a few notes. 

“I–” You puff your cheeks out with a small sigh and decide to keep going with it. “I want to go home now, daddy.”

“Didn't I just tell you to be patient?” Now Zayne finally looks up at you with one of his brows raised. “I'll deal with you when we get home.” 

Rafayel 

It's been four months since Rafayel asked you out. Four months since you tugged Rafayel down into the bath with you, which set off a chain reaction of a steamy night, followed by him asking you out the next morning; he also complained that you both went out of order, but he wasn’t too upset when you continued where you left off…

Now, though, you moved out of your apartment and to Rafayel's home, ‘Mo Art Studio’ at Whitesand Bay. 

It was definitely odd at first, but it was a good change of pace. Always being by the ocean, able to take your morning walks together on the beach and collect seashells. You had a whole collection on your desk at work. He'd always give you the most unique and prettiest shells, saying “only the best for his cutie”. 

He was also so easy to fluster. 

You immediately knew you had him wrapped around your finger every time his ears would turn red. That same crimson slowly made its way from his ears to his cheeks, all the way to his whole face. So you assumed your little ‘prank’ would also have the same effect. 

You were sitting on a beach towel in the sand with an umbrella blocking your eyes from the bright sun. In front of you was Rafayel, painting your visage, with an easel. His hand deftly moves across the canvas as he sketches the outline for his new painting. 

Lately, you are the only thing he can paint. Always asking you to stop what you're doing so he can run and get his sketch pad. You could be doing something so normal and mundane, but he'd be struck with the inspiration to record your very image. 

As much as you loved it and thought this was very sweet, after almost two weeks of this…You wanted some form of payback. 

“Hey, daddy, can we take a break for a second? It’s really hot out here.” You squint your eyes to try and see Rafayel's face, your hand fanning at your body because you, seriously, are hot out here. 

“Huh?” 

It's like Rafayel is frozen in time, or buffering. He's just blankly staring at you with a confused expression on his face until his pencil drops into the sand. That's when he quickly stands up  and makes his way toward you. 

“Again.” 

Now, it's your turn to be confused. 

“Raf, what–” 

“Not that, say the other word again.” His ears were red as he crouched down in front of you, a look of determination in his eyes. 

“No– you're making it weird!” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to put some distance between him as your face turns red. 

“Please, I really need to hear you say it again! I'm seriously going to die if you don't.” There's your overdramatic fishy. 

“Fine, but just this once.” You grumble, turning your head to look away from him. “Daddy…” Though you say it as low as you can and Rafayel groans, tilting his head back. 

“Louder.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Come on, cutie. If you don't…I might want to change that to my new nickname.”

Sylus

It's been about…a year? Yes, definitely a year since you and Sylus started dating. Well, you both have differing opinions on when exactly you started dating. Sylus claims it was the moment he laid eyes on you in the N109 Zone, while you claim it was only about six months ago– which is when you and Sylus made a bet. 

It was a bet where if he came back safely from his mission, he'd leave you alone. He wouldn't bother you anymore, wouldn't talk to you, contact you, anything of the sort…and you won, but you didn't realize he'd actually do it. So whenever you seeked him out to make sure he was safe, and he ignored you, you realized that maybe you did want him in your life. 

This led to you running across the street to him and jumping into his arms like this was a hallmark movie, and you claim this was when you officially started dating Sylus.

But between us, you just agree with Sylus when he says a year, because if you don't, he'll pout for the whole day. 

...And today was one of those ‘pouty Sylus’ days. 

You went on a mission that was probably way too dangerous, even though you told Sylus you were going to slow down on your Hunter's work. But you couldn't just ignore endangered civilians. If any of them would have died, that would've been too much for your sympathetic heart to handle. 

And even if Sylus understands your reasoning, he's still upset that you left without telling him– having woken up to a cold bed without you by his side sent him spiraling into a panic. 

So, when you got home, you noticed he was sulking in the kitchen as he made dinner. 

“Sy…” You take your shoes off by the door, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tentatively walk into the kitchen. Standing behind the counter, you sigh, “I'm reeaally sorry...” 

“If you're reeaaally sorry, then help me make our dinner.” He says, not looking up at you and that doesn't make you feel any better. 

“Okay..” You finally step past the counter and you look around. “So…what do you need?” You were trying to figure out something– anything that could make Sylus feel better when a thought comes to your mind. 

Most guys probably like it when their girlfriend calls them daddy…right? 

“In the cabinet, top shelf. I need a bottle of garlic powder.” 

Okay, you got this. 

You take a deep breath and open the cabinet, straining your arm to try and reach the seasoning bottle, but your fingertips barely brush it and knock it over. “Shit…” You swallow back your nervousness before continuing, “Daddy, can you grab it for me?” 

The room fills with silence for a moment, but then you hear Sylus chuckle. 

“Sure, kitten.” 

Your back suddenly feels warm as a firm chest presses against it and Sylus reaches up from behind you to grab the bottle. 

“I ask you to do one simple thing and you can't even do that.” Sylus chides, clicking his tongue as he pops the bottle open to pour some into the pan on the stove. 

“Da–”

“If you think a few empty words will make me feel better, kitten…you've got to try a lot harder than that.” 

I'd like to say, this is definitely one of my better drabbles– one of my favorites, in fact!

I have like...six more ideas for drabbles and then I'll need to come up with some more. Like these new cards and Rafayel's student photoshoot event really had me thinking of how seriously the LADS men would take roleplaying– and that spawned a whole different drabble idea, so you can definitely look forward to that!

I'm trying to come up with new ways to do my drabbles, so that's why I did a little prelude before I started writing for the guys. Please let me know any feedback yall have for me! Especially with the coloured dialogue, I'm not too sure if I like it, but it seems really pretty and probably makes it easier to tell who is talking apart. (I won't use it for my fic though, only the drabbles!)

Anyway, I have a small personal project I'm working on this weekend so I probably won't be able to write any chapters for my 'Divisa' fic, but I'm still going to post chapter nineteen of 'Twist of Fate' and try to write at least two more chapters since I'm only on twenty-three or so.

I hope you all enjoyed these drabbles and I hope yall have a great night/day! 🩷

[gnohomotho-blog]

Just a game (part 2) 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

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Pairing: Hwang In-ho / The Frontman x fem!reader

Summary: We're getting there, folks. (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜) Mostly fluff, need, imagination, fantasy, slow burn. Focus on the f!reader, because you deserve nice things. She's home, receiving odd gifts, some sweet, some...quite the not sweet, the game and plot and trouser legs thicken (I'm so sorry, it's literally 2 a.m. here). In-ho definitely isn't obsessing over you, hatching elaborate plans, thinking of you so hard he'll break another turtleneck. Not saying the f!reader has any specific issues, but if you recognize any, I hope to be nothing but respectful. ♥ Oh, and we have a dream sequence, Freud would be proud.

(This was mainly meant as a "put your feet up and be cozy, read about yourself and feel good" read, the action will come later. Among other things. I'm so sorry, my thesis is driving me mad.)

Warnings: It's the god damn Front Man The usual Squid Game warnings, mdni, stalking, spying, voyeurism, touching, self-touching, sexual themes, sexual almost-intercourse, descriptions of anatomy and body parts, blood, yearning, some terrible references and Slavic folklore. Privacy? In my fic? It's less likely than you think.

Word count: 4.2k

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A cup of tea. A cup. You were watching the cup. Steam rises from it and folds into nothing. Your stomach is churning. Is it stress? You ponder. Seeing the liquid close in on itself as you stir it. Again and again.

"It'll get cold." You say, to no one. You try to breathe. Heart pounding. Head a bit spinny. You look around your room. Dimly lit, warm orange light from a salt lamp. You check your blinds - still closed, still safe. Noise from other people you try to filter out. Why do you jump at every single sound? Why does white noise blaring its head off make for the only atmosphere you can stand? You wonder. You get up. The world spins. The phone lies on your bed. As it has for the last three hours. Unchecked. Your sound is off. It always is. You turned off everything this time. It's just black. You try to think, ground yourself, poems float through your pounding head. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the tall mirrors of your wardrobe. An oddly shaped form stares back at you.

"Jesus Christ…I look…like shit." The mirrored lips curl around your words - but it might as well have been a stranger speaking back at you. You don't recognize yourself, and what you do, you dislike. Like a funhouse mirror. Without the fun. Your long hair falls across your shoulders, curling towards the ends. Your exposed skin is cold and giving a nice exposé of every vein under your neck, driving rivers of blue across your collarbones, your shoulders, your chest. You won't look further. They seem to be drawn to your middle, pooling across your skin. People often referred to you as pale, no matter your actual skin tone. When things got a tad too heavy, you became transparent. It was calming, sometimes. Calming that so much was trying to keep you alive to the point of exhausting itself and sending highways of signals through every vein to keep at it. Your head spins again. More poems. Try to drink the tea.

"Light your candle, one, two, there's a moth…" You know the rest. But the lips fail to speak. You pick up the phone. And almost knock over your tea. Then proceed to fight an urge to fling it into a wall and watch the stains roll down like fresh blood.

Seventeen missed calls from a blocked number - your now ex-companion. A worried message from your friend, no doubt spurred by said ex-companion with an entirely different story to reality. Frowning, you adjust your dressing gown and tie it down to hold everything in and hold you together.

"Hey, Y/N…I know you probably don't want to talk, but I'm sorry things went so badly. I'm here."

You hate yourself a little more. Clara has always been a darling, you…cared for her. A lot. You wish to say "loved", you squint your eyes and wish to say you love her. People are kind. People are always so very kind. And you can't drink a cup of tea. Nor reply. There's also an email. From a set of numbers, no name. You open it, against your better judgement. No subject, only a photograph. Of your door. Your door inside your flat. Which is locked. You didn't ring anyone in. You, of all people, didn't hear any steps on the stairs. You live at the very top floor. And still?! What is wrong with you lately, now of all times?

And still, there is a photograph of your door. With…things? Your shoes were gently placed beside your mat.

"Um…" You knock on your housemate's door - how grateful you are for the economic situation which doesn't permit you to live alone now, you think bitterly as his steps approach.

"Oh, Y/N, how are you? What can I do you for?" Ever the cheerful voice and visage stands before you, half dressed, always flooded with work and hobbies. The room behind him is full of papers and candles, manuals and scripts, and information that probably shouldn't be lying around covered in bird photography snaps. It calms you a tad. You breathe out and uncross your arms. In the back of your mind, you wonder what he's always so entranced with.

"I'm getting there, thank you, Lubo." Your chest falls a tad, you really do feel a bit better, but very on edge. You fidget with your fingers as you speak. "Would it be alright to ask if you could open the main door with me? Something is there and I've been listening to too many IRA anthems to trust it." Because making a joke out of a very serious situation never failed you yet.

"Sure!"

You notice one of the birds on the ground behind him. Gazing at one photograph a little longer, you smile at the birdie and its soft grey feathers, little black dash across its little eyes...you realise you're looking at a shrike. The universe really is sending her best.

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You open the door as Lubo endeavours to rummage through the things on your doorstep. It seems to be a very neatly wrapped black box with a pink bow. With a little token of a crow embossed on its side. Heavy, by the looks of it. You half expect your ex-companion's limbs to be soaking its insides.

"I'll take it indoors and disinfect it, ok? Just so it doesn't feel like you've contaminated the flat." You nod, thank him over and over, and feel very grateful for him remembering your slight fights with obsessive cleanliness and parasites. But this looks…clean. You take a knife from your room, the knife that's been under your pillow for good reason. Kneeling, you gently unwrap the box altogether and distance yourself from the thing for a little bit. Breathe. It's just a box. Those never go wrong.

It's…full of…gifts?

Your…favourite flowers, perfectly preserved. No one knows your favourite flowers that well. Under them, resting under jewels of crimson poppies, lies a book of poems, the ones you use to calm yourself down; the ones that make you feel less alone. In the correct languge, even. Next to the poppies, hot water bottles, wrapped, fluffy, still warm. Under them yet, medication you couldn't get from your doctor for the entire month due to disagreements and never being heard, half of them aren't even sold in the country. Bath salts, dark chocolate, tea…there seems to be so much. Your face is caught in a mixture of attempting to frown, being swept off your feet, and deeply uncomfortable with what is basically an encyclopedia of you in a box. You carefully lay the items to the side and begin to notice things you truly need your housemate to not see. You lose your breath for a moment and blush so hard you almost forget both the kindness and terror of the rest of the package. It seems to be divided into care for you and…some other forms of urges. As if. As fucking if.

"Google, remind me to photograph this tomorrow in good light," you say to nothing, "to use as evidence either after this person manages to kill me or before, if the courts move faster than an asthmatic ant with heavy shopping."

Against your better judgement, you carry the box to your room and watch it for a while, as you do other things, but can never quite relax. Surely he can't be serious. Your name isn't Shirley.

There was also a note you now keep flinging on your table and crunching in your hands, neatly written, with no name.

"Dear Y/N,

should you wish to meet someone qualified to help with the attached records, it has been arranged. Be at the coordinates listed between the red and white gift and you will be taken care of. No harm will come to you. You are safe. As right as rain."

Right as rain…that's a part of a poem, that absolute…dear God, fuck, the thoughts in your head are tumbling down at you and you collapse onto the bed, staring at your knees. It's a good thing he somehow didn't include your most loved flowers, since they're all poisonous. One of them you like specifically because it is elegant, sharp, snowy, and beautiful - and all of her body, leaves, and seed pouches scream "don't fucking touch me, if you do, you will die and wish for death the entire time you are doing so". You would very much like to be the flower now. Make someone else hallucinate.

You search the box again and find the beautiful gown, in red, and the gentle white lace undergarments - as kind and gentle and revealing as they are elegant. A little QR code is nestled between the lace.

"Nope. Nope nope NOPE. Absolutely not," you say out loud. Fighting the fact that the nightgown under the two other garments is cozy and light and so very beautiful. And it smells…oddly familiar. With a hint of something else. As if someone knew you loved scents of sweetness, vanilla, caramel, honey, and skin combined with darker, heavier tones that don't usually mix with feminine perfumes. Something lovely and gentle to draw you in, with something far more potent, enveloping, and enthralling to drag you down the lake to drown. And yet. Still. Something else. Something more. You decide to put on the gown and stare into a little crow's eyes. Such a pretty little statue, you don't even remember where you got it from.

"I'm going to be alright. Water is fine. This is just water. We've been here, we've been in the mud up to our noses." You are whispering to yourself, trying to sooth your mind. Metaphores, poems, sooth sooth sooth. You close your eyes, think of beautiful women, barefoot, in the dark of a forest. Glistening lights in their long hair, lights in their gorgeous eyes. Light on their feet, as they dance upon the water and through the marsh. You cannot drown a forest spirit of a woman scorned. They will mesmerize you, dance you, dance you to the end of your love and tether, and pull you into the depths. Then kiss you as you gasp for air.

You undress, eyes still closed, holding the long white gown. You slowly slide into the fabric, which clings to your skin as a lover's touch at the first sign of morning light. Still trying to be as unbothered and confident as a forest Rusalka. You aren't. But the gown smells nice. And it's quite light. Long sleeves, fabric that reveals but doesn't scream. Lace around your chest and stomach, falling down your hips and thighs.

…Kiss you as you gasp for air.

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In-ho was pleased with his gift. Not only the gift, but the message. Upon message. Upon message. He wondered, quite hopeful - yet reserved - if you understood them all. No matter.

You will. Oh, you will. Every word. Even if he has to cling them to your skin, one by one, with his own lips.

To the surprise of absolutely no one except you, perhaps, the small bird brought him all the feedback he could desire. Rather low quality feedback, he thought, as he watched you ponder, watched you crunch up the note, and watched you dress. Instinctively, he looked away as you began to slide your own clothes down. He glimpsed perhaps a strap, perhaps more skin than he first saw…light reflecting off you, sliding down, further down, caressing your tenderness…yet he looked away, calmly resolute to not look back. His gaze remained firmly in the corner of the room, he certainly wasn't fighting - or imagining himself being the photons of light resting on your supple skin. No. It would be unbecoming to watch a lady undress, so vulnerable, so unknowing. Never mind the rest. If you looked up the word "hypocrite" in the dictionary, In-ho's face wouldn't be next to it. It would be on the next page, because he would never be caught. As he looked back, you were dressed, not looking at yourself.

In-ho frowns for a moment, before he sees the rest of you. Even though it's just a phone screen and the picture quality truly isn't doing you justice, his breath is caught. He shifts and looks around instinctively, only a flicker of the eyes and a small movement of the neck. But he's nervous, nervous to be so exposed. He chuckles to himself just as unnoticeably - he's spying on you yet he's the one feeling exposed..was the chuckle to ease tension? This is just a game to him and you are nothing, after all. No one. He shifts once more and uncrosses his legs, one hand slowly combing his hair firmly away from of his forehead. Nothing. Just as it is nothing that is making the jacket around his neck feel tight. He sees you stand, further away now. He sees your entirety in the white flowing fabric, the lace, the…entirety…of you. His coat needs to come off, and is discarded to the side in haste. The remaining turtleneck isn't much help, but he goes in, now fully enthralled. Positioning himself, he endeavours to enjoy you. Slowly. From the tip of your head to the soles of your feet, remaining fully in control, admiring, never taking, never grabbing. Never…needing. But as he moves down your face, your cheeks, your chin, along your neck all the way to your hair resting on your now exposed shoulders, back to your mouth and lips - he leans into the screen - those supple yet reserved, tender lips whispering gently and curling around words as if speaking to a sleeping lover in the night who is caught in a bad dream, the eyes - damn the picture quality - the eyes that glint, yet resemble dark pools amid features that are…that mean…his heart is fast. His eyes pools of reckless abandon. They flicker to the movement of your hips and tick fast, fast back up top, stopping at the almond curve the nightgown begets your breasts - In-ho's hands twitch as his fingers yearn with a mind of their own, to hear you gasp and squirm and melt under their touch as he teases, cups, and caresses in the gown's place. Tender flowers, waiting to be kissed. As you move, for him, for his eyes only, his mind floods through its inhibitions and begins racing on instinct - yet does so wrapped in cotton; barely subdued. Algorithms, scenarios, plans - ten a second - gather in his mind - resting on nothing but your features, spurred into existence by you, your lips, your form, your movement. He's watching the last flame dance before him in a sea of suffocating darkness, and it is his. Tension grips The Frontman's trousers as he digs his fingers in to feel something, anything, as if to drag himself back, painfully if need be - all this…for a low quality moving picture of you.

You. Your self before him. No adjective does it justice to In-ho, no painter could stroke its surface, nobody could own this moment. Nobody but him. And he cannot reach, reach through the screen, for you, for you mean…you in your entirety, before him, vulnerable, bare, unknowing, both a deity to be worshipped and a form to be devoured and left pleading, barely breathing under him, his grasp, his hot breath, you, you mean…

…nothing to him. In-ho leans back again. He breathes a bit faster, containing himself. As his breath slows and features fall back into place, he straightens the trouser leg and exhales. Your name is on his lips as he does so; he whispers it to himself. A name that doesn't seem to leave his tongue, no matter how many times it wraps around every syllable.

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…you are nothing."

He turns off the screen with one click. "Nothing." He gets up, leaving the phone behind. He is back to his true self - unbothered, cold, empty. A statue of stone. It was fun while it lasted, but the shell he wears gets tired of the falsity imbued in it during these little sidesteps. Little adventures to ease the monotony. Your records lie on the table, next to his glass of dark liquer. He walks over slowly, cradles it, sipping with restraint, and puts it down just as slowly in the exact same place. He goes on with his evening, thinking, it must be said, of nothing. He continues his work, thinking of nothing. Nothing replaces the drabble of his underlings as they update him on the latest games. Nothing is on his mind as he showers, nothing is in the water that glides down his own body. Nothing is in the warmth that he doesn't imagine being replaced nor coming from a different source. The voice of nothing is in the hiss and humm of the shower, nothing sings to him sweetly as it envelops his form. Nothing is woven into his satin sheets, nothing still smells of the perfume he picked for you, nothing is in his bed and pillows and nothing is slowly, invariably, fatally invading his mind. The cologne he uses, the same cologne he rubbed upon certain parts of the gown you now rest in, isn't combining and wildly interweaving with your gentle, warm, sweet, yet heavy scent. Nothing is everywhere and nothing is driving him absolutely stark, staring mad as he lays there - naked, exposed, amid satin sheets, it is nothing that invades his dreams and wraps him in sensations he can still only dream of.

════════════════════════════════════════════

Barren lands and dusk. No flowers. No life. In-ho is alone. As far as the eye can see lies nothing. He cannot feel his mask. A shape is in front of him, laying there, incredulous. Unfitting its surroundings. As if guided by an unseen hand, he walks up to her slowly and kneels beside her. She is dressed in white fabric, falling across her skin, exposing more than is becoming of such a form. Her hand is resting next to her head, her other at her side. She is peacefully asleep. A gentle humm escapes her lips - she must be dreaming. In-ho glides the back of his hand everso carefully across her cheek, guiding it down her neck and stopping at her collarbones. Her chest lifts in a slow rhythm as her skin touches his. She is his. Is she not? He could...open his hand, and his hand opens. He could place it around her neck, and he does. As he feels her warmth and blood pumping into his hand, he thinks he could squeeze and hold down. He doesn't. The form reacts to his intentions, seemingly, her face frowning in the most unnoticeable way, lips falling from their previous peaceful expression to a worried frown. As if caught in a bad dream.

No, no, no.

In-ho releases the pressure and merely rests his hand on her neck, pushing errant strands of hair away from her skin. They fall around her shoulders and between the fingers of his other hand, which lifts instinctively to cradle her head. Her expression relaxes, and he smiles almost on instinct. Suddenly, her eyes flutter open and gaze into his own, almost unblinking and holding his gaze. The pools of comforting darkness set in an innocent visage drive electrical current through his entire body and In-ho almost has to steady himself against the ground where his hand is holding her head, still. She isn't scared, she only gazes and studies, lays, and rests in his own dark eyes. Her smile mirrors his. As if the two of them were already familiar, already far beyond anything novel. She whispers to him.

"Darling, this isn't your place."

In-ho doesn't think, he knows the voice. The gentle, slow, melodic whisper that he wishes to hear before he goes to sleep himself. Putting more strength into his grip, he places his dominant palm in hers as it still lays beside her head. He squeezes her down. Without thought, his body shifts to move above hers, holding her gaze, now directly on top of her, without touching her body with his. His hands no longer gentle, but firmly holding down. His thumb caresses her cheek as his other hand pushes her palm into the ground.

"It doesn't need to be."

As the sentence barely left his lips, he connects them with her neck, firmly kissing the skin and pulling her into his bite. The taste is intoxicating, and beckons for more. Sweet, tender, pure, intoxicating. Down her neck he plants kisses and barely restrained bites, gliding his touch, gripping her hand and moving his other to her neck once more. He hears gasps and timid moans, and he moves down, lips brushing against her chest and resting upon it. He lets go of her hand and finally grips her, under the small of her back, caressing and squeezing her waist, lifting her body into his. Now he feels her. Now he feels her being react and pressure and squirm, now he feels the pulse of her body directly under his and melting into him. Every movement, every gasp, every beat of her heart - in his control, under him, sinking into him. Her waist lifts against his and he eagerly helps it up, feeling his need against her body, finally, all he needs to do is tear off the gown, take her, make her fully his and hear her cries and moans as he takes what is his. Still in control of himself, he fully recognizes his itch, his need, his voracious hunger. He recognizes it and fully gives into it.

But the dream does not let him.

Something is wrong. The body is colder now, her breathing is slow, her voice no longer caressing him, her being no longer reacting to his touch. The current fizzled out. Pulling away, he sees the damage done - even as her eyes are wistful and her smile still there, it is sorrowful and soft, gazing down at him although broken under him. He sees her neck and chest, her breasts exposed, her skin red with bite marks, red with his signatures. Lines where his grip failed to falter rest on her tender flesh, her pallor a canvas for his need and depravity. For his destruction. He does not want this, he does not want her like this, his mind races and tries to get back in control but cannot. The canvas before him begins to soak through in crimson, blood pools into the white fabric where he lay and pushed and tried to take her. As he watches the gown cling to her stomach with blood, fear drives cold daggers through his back. He is no longer the Front Man, he is himself. Himself before a Front Man ever was. And he is...scared. Still her voice reaches him, doing nothing to alleviate his state, doing nothing to destroy the damn invisible barrier that keeps him from holding her close, holding her together, holding him together.

"Not like this darling, not like this again."

How is she still smiling? How does she seem so cold yet encompassing an utter lack of proximity? Holding her now seems like the most sacriligeous, repugnant thing he could do. His hands shiver lightly, how is he afraid to touch her now? After all that? She is his, his, this is all so incredibly wrong! He doesn't care, he doesn't have feelings for such frivolities, she is a dime a dozen, she is worth nothing, and she is nothing to him; nothing.

And she's still smiling, a little laugh escaping her lips as if she can hear his inner turmoil and has seen it thrice before.

"Taking what you want, never what you need."

In-ho looks down at his own body, which begins to feel cold and wrong. As if missing something vital. He smells copper, his hand feels hot as he touches his chest yet his body grows colder. The last thing he remembers before waking up in a freezing sweat is looking down at his own body, now filled with open chasms wherever it touched hers - gaping empty holes that can be filled with nothing, bleeding him into the ground as she watches on.

In-ho gasps, springs up into a seated position and touches his chest, his stomach - and breathes in relief. As he is composing himself, a new manner of play begins to form in his mind. Between hurried breaths and elevated pulse beats, he plans a new way to play this game and win.

[ryescapades]

congrats on 1k!!! you deserve it so much xx

you know i'm gonna have to put in a request for your event :p

i'll take slice one with sae (what a surprise) with prompt 16 >:)

write whatever you feel is easiest, sfw would be cute but i certainly won't decline nsfw :x

again, congrats baby <3

→ EVENT OVERVIEW

prompt: 16 - “do u want me on my knees?” characters: itoshi sae (bllk) x f!reader contents: suggestive, implied nsfw at the end, established rs, he calls u amor, reader wears a dress and strappy heels (oddly specific ik but it’s for the plot ..), slight hair pulling bcs yall are freaky wc ~ 1k (not proofread!)

a/n: LUMI BBG TYSM ILY LMK WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS (bcs i’m not entirely sure what you’re into) AND UHH i couldn’t decide between sfw and nsfw so this came out instead 🙂‍↕️

another one of those… tepid sports agents comes up to talk to you and sae’s eye all but twitches for the nth time.

stiffly tugging at his previously well-kept tie, it takes almost all his willpower to muffle the yawn that threatens to escape past his lips. he steps a tad bit closer to you, chest brushing against your bare shoulder as he shoves his hands inside the pockets of his slacks. narrowed aquamarine eyes gaze down at the woman who’s enthusiastically chatting with you as he dutifully stands by your side.

formal events like this somewhat bore him. there are too many flashing lights, too many blabbering mouths and scrutinizing eyes, and the worst of all, too many probing intents. he genuinely couldn’t stand those that don’t take his privacy seriously, especially when it affects you as well.

absently looking around the decorated hall, he takes note of the second ticking by where he can finally bring you back to the safety of your shared home. tick, tock, tick, tock– each one of it goes unnoticed by him. if he was sitting down, sae would’ve started bouncing his legs up and down as you continue to entertain all these nonsensical conversations.

his large hand lands on the middle of your back mid-talk, and you straighten up as warmth spreads throughout your skin. you peer back at sae, nodding slightly at him in a silent inquiry.

another discussion occurs between the both of you next, wordless and understanding in the way only your eyes hold all the things you want to say to each other. you then raise an amused brow when you take a second look at his appearance; his once messy hair looks even more disheveled than before, tie loose around his collar and lidded eyes looking all too uninterested with whatever the hell is going on in the event.

sae lightly pinches the side of your waist when he sees you on the verge of giggling like the menace that you are.

letting a little snicker out past your lips anyway, you turn back to the woman you were talking to minutes prior as you sense his simmering impatience. you swiftly say your goodbyes before grabbing sae’s hand, dragging him towards the hallways and opening the door to a smaller (and thankfully) vacant hall.

he’s ever so quick to close the door behind you, cornering you back against the surface as he towers over you. “thought we’re going back home?” sae asks, voice low and breathy as he idly plays with a loose strand of your hair between his fingers.

you throw him a pointed look, “we’re not even halfway into the schedule, why do you look so rumpled already?” his unkempt tie catches your eye once again, so you gingerly reach out to pull it loose before carefully redoing the knot for him. “and isn’t this event supposed to be for you athletes to mingle around?” you absently mutter, busy with the strip of fabric in your hands.

the distance between you is now barely existent. when you don’t get any response from him, you glance up at him thinking he was also looking at the tie, only to see that his eyes are simply gazing at you. bright oceanic hues closely examine your face, an odd look swirling in his eyes that has you fluttering down to the very pit of your stomach. 

you gnaw on your bottom lip as sae takes a bit longer to finally give you a reply. “the only mingling i’ll be doing today is the one that involves you and me,” he trails off, stopping for a brief second to glance down at your mouth. “... in bed.”

your breath stutters in your chest at his words. sae continues to stare down at you, as if waiting for you to cave in to his spell. a beat of silence passes. suddenly remembering a small, trivial detail, you then lean back more comfortably against the door before tipping your chin up at him.

“you know… relationships should be a two-way street,” you start, casually looking around the hall before subtly nudging one of your feet against his; the one where the straps on your heel are coincidentally loose. “i help you, and you help me.” you smile at him, eyes vivid and innocent as a doe.

two can play at this game.

raising his brow in suspicion at your overly saccharine tone, he takes a slight glimpse below before mildly rolling his eyes as he realizes what you’re insinuating. sae doesn’t back away from the close proximity as he murmurs against the minimal space between you two, “what? do you want me on my knees for you, amor?”

you ignore the shivers on your back at the way the raspy timbre of his voice curls on the petname, shrugging your shoulders in nonchalance.

for a second there, you’d thought that he wouldn’t go along with your schemes, but then you feel his hands settling on your hips before he eventually lowers down… down… and down, his touch slowly and torturously trailing along the side of your thighs while he keeps his gaze focused on you.

you’d almost failed to hold in the shameless whimper that threatens to spill from your mouth, desire licking at every little nerve inside of you at the sight.

and how could you not? seeing a proud, primarily arrogant man being eased down to the floor on his knees, looking up at you like you’re the only thing he has ever yearned and ached for in all his life. such immense satisfaction swells in your chest.

barely holding in the urge, you sift your fingers through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp with your nails before you pull. a small smirk tugs at the corner of your lips as you purr, “good boy.”

sae curses, groaning deep in his throat, “fuck– you little minx.”

the next few minutes go by in a blur of gasping breaths and hungry licks, courtesy of him staying on his knees like you’d wished for as he makes you struggle standing on your own two feet, the thought of returning to the event now instantly thrown out of the window.

taglist open !

chat if you’re not into heels, imagine you’re wearing sneakers instead (atrocious ik but i’ve done it before and i kinda slayed the fit, funnily enough shfhsdh) so he’d be helping u with the shoelaces lol - a bit inspired from a tt i saw a few days ago :>

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[aklaustaleteller]

An Unofficial Date

Klaus has had a certain starry-eyed girl on his mind, so when he walks into a museum, not at all with the hope of finding her inside, he can't help but strike up a conversation, which might've just led to Y/n agreeing to see him again.

Warnings - none that I can think of!

Word Count - 1.6k

Masterlist | Please reblog the work to share!

Been writing something that has had me researching left, right, and center! So I thought that while I worked on that one, I'd write a quick little something to freshen up a tad. Hope you enjoy a giddy Klaus hahah!

On a random, foggy Tuesday morning, Klaus found himself taking a quick stroll to the new Art Museum that had appeared out of nowhere in Mystic Falls. Well, for him anyways, for he hadn't come across the building in the months that he had been existing in the small town.

But one couldn't fault him for that, seeing that he had been so busy messing with a group of teenagers, or rather – with a couple of centuries old vampires, a newborn werewolf, and even a newfound witch, should he say.

But what took up most of his time was this starry-eyed girl with whom his eyes always seemed to meet whenever they were in the same room. That was all he got, though. The chance to look into her eyes for a fleeting second before she was shifting her gaze onto something else, leaving him breathless and wanting for more.

He never caught her name, or even a smile. Each time he saw her, he had been in search for a muse. And each time, she succeeded in sending a surge of creativity flowing through his entire being that consumed him so fully that he would race home and embrace that rush of adrenaline until he needed more.

Then, he would go out to steal another glance at her. The problem was, he hadn't been seeing her around for a week now. And he was anxious that she might've left the town, for she was the type of person whose absence went unnoticed for all but those who'd even once shared her company.

So, he felt a bit hopeful since he hadn't heard of Damon or Bonnie complaining about their loss of time with her. But he was also dreadful, wanting nothing more than to meet with her again knowing that this time he wouldn’t miss the chance to speak to her.

If Klaus had to be honest, he'd confess that the sole reason he was even heading to the museum was because he had a feeling that this could be one of the places he'd find her.

On his walk, he came across wildflowers and rose bushes, a couple of pinecones and a odd looking lemon tree, that stood lonely in midst of all the fog that had settled around it. And Klaus wondered if she paid attention to such details, if he should pick out a rose in case he did come across her? But he settled on not doing that, since that would surely give him away instantly.

He strolled through the corridors, sparing each art piece a single glance because he couldn't feel the emotions of looking at them for the first time and the curiousity of trying to unwind the stories in them due to his ages old knowledge that proved the collection in this museum to be quite poor.

There were a few people inside, a few dreamers scattered throughout the place, either sitting on the floor, sketching out what they could see in the painting or standing as if trying to count the stars, their eyes set on complicated pieces that pretentiously twisted the wires of their brains.

His eyes were wandering, and he was people watching now, rather than looking at the art that hung in frames. Which is how, there was a stutter in the search of his eyes when he caught sight of someone sitting against a wall opposite a painting, dressed in something quite vintage with a bowl of blackberries in their lap. A smile threatened to slip on his mouth.

He suppressed it though, looking at the ground to wait-out the disappearance of his blush before he squared his shoulders.

"Hello there," Klaus smiled, looking down at her and nodding when he had her attention. "Think I've seen you around?"

She broke a smile then, a small frown settling between her brows. "Hi, and …think I’ve witnessed a couple instances myself!" She laughed, her palm twitching awkwardly as she battled whether she should continue to eat, offer him some or wipe her stained hands on her thrifted dress.

She offered him to sit beside her instead, and then offered him her snack.

"Why thank you," Klaus murmured, his heart racing inside his chest the moment he caught a whiff of her perfume.

"I'm Niklaus, by the way."

She looked at him intriguingly, swallowing as she nodded to herself. "That's a nice name," she admitted. "Any meaning behind it?"

Klaus looked away, pretending to look at the painting in front of them in order to hide the sudden blood-rush to his face.

"Yes, yes it does," he said. "It comes from a Greek word, um, Nikolaos, I think? Means victory of the people."

"Well, I'm Y/n," she extended her clean hand out and Klaus shook it, electricity coursing through his being.

He sighed and locked his arms around his knees.

"So, Y/n," he tasted her name on his tongue and right away, wanted more of it. "What are you doing here?"

"Nothing special, been writing a thesis lately. Came here for a break and some change of scenery," she shrugged.

"A thesis?" Klaus asked, feeling intrigued and when she nodded nonchalantly, he felt baffled. "On what, if you don't mind me asking?"

She was smiling bashfully now, looking down at the remaining blackberries. "You'll laugh," she said.

"And why would that be?"

She clenched her eyes shut. "Because it's on hotels," she raced to say, peeking at him with one eye to see his reaction. He wasn't laughing so she looked at him properly, dumbfounded, noting that his expression was the same as before, if not more interested.

"Tell me more about it," Klaus asked, leaning his head on his knee to look at her.

She was blushing, and Klaus made a mental note to try and get the shade right on his canvas when he went back home.

"Well, it's going to be a tangent, so don't complain, okay?" She looked at him warily. He blinked softly, urging her on and she felt something shift between them.

"You asked for this," she sighed, and he chuckled, picking up another berry as she turned so that she was facing him, sitting cross-legged with a straight back.

She went on then, and Klaus was absorbing every single word that she was saying along with her wild hand-gestures that he felt like were going to hit him at some point. He noticed the sparkle in her eyes doubling-up as she talked about something she clearly felt passionate about.

Her cheeks had grown slightly red, and her mouth was stained by the blackberries. She mentioned how she had an even softer spot for haunted houses and hotels, making him grin with her.

It felt vulnerable for some reason, and Klaus' heart felt like it was growing inside of his chest.

She was spilling for him all of the research she had done so far, and it was admirable how well she was doing at explaining to him all of it. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to look at the hotels the same way again, knowing now the way she looked at them.

And he knew that he was going to pester her again sometime and ask her about the gold chain that she wore, in the middle of which hung a glass globe that held something in the shape of a star preserved inside it. He had a feeling that everything that adorned her body held some meaning to it for her. 

"And I think that's all I've got on it, so far anyways," she finished with a deep breath, looking at him with a big grin on her face. She had lipstick on her bottom teeth, or maybe it was just the berrie’s stain; Klaus looked away.

"I think I have a newfound soft-spot for hotels now," Klaus sighed, straightening his back and leaning against the wall, craning his neck to look at her.

"I'm so very glad to hear that," she chuckled. "My apologies for talking your ear off, but hey, you asked for it!"

"I've got a feeling that I might ask for it again," he winked, and she looked away immediately, the corners of her mouth lifted up.

"Can't be now because I need to get going," she shrugged, checking her wristwatch whose leather band was beginning to wither off.

"Sure, think I wasted some of your time there," grinning sheepishly, Klaus rubbed the back of his neck.

But she laughed as she packed away her book and the empty container back into her bag. "No, Klaus, thank you for listening," she said, genuinely.

"Anytime," Klaus muttered shyly, watching as she got up and waved him goodbye.

Klaus waved back with a wistful smile, watching her walk away when he suddenly realised.

"When will I see you again?" He shouted, ignoring the incredulous looks he got from the strangers. He slipped his hands in his pockets and shrugged when she turned around to look at him with wide eyes.

"I love taking evening walks around the neighbourhood," she said at a normal volume, and Klaus heard her just right.

He was going to be delusional and tell him himself that today had been an unofficial date, maybe he'd ask her out for an official one when he saw her the next time.

He nodded at her, giving her a salute as he rolled on the toe and then the heels of his feet, grinning shamelessly as she laughed and walked away, sparing him one last glance before turning around the corner, out of his sight but not once out of his mind.

[crowandmousewritingco]

We Liked Your Vibe

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader x Din Djarin

Words: 3.4 k

Rating: M (it's mostly smut folks)

Summary: Din promised Dieter to a threesome, and you have caught their attention.

Author: Mod Mouse (I know I'm not dead)

Note: Happy Holidays everyone! This is my gift to @guelyury for the secret santa exchange set up by @dieterbravobrainrotclub! Thank you @sp00kymulderrI for setting this up! I hope you enjoy your gift.

On another note, I hope to start getting back in the grove of writing. With the semester wrapped up and my life in general calming down, I hope to start posting fics again. I don't think it will be as often as I was (I can't believe I somehow put two fics a week out lol) But I'll figure out something that works. Anyways onto the smut!

“Oh what about that one?” Dieter asked excitedly, nodding in the direction of a goth looking person strolling up to the bar. 

Din glanced up from his whiskey, the melting ice giving a small tink against the glass. His gaze took in the figure, but he shook his head. “Not that one. Came in with a partner.” 

Dieter signed dramatically and slumped over the bar counter. Din slid his drink away to keep him from knocking it over. This wasn’t the first time tonight. “Diiiiiiiiin” Dieter whined. “That’s the third one you’ve said no to tonight.” 

“Yes but all you’ve shown me are couples. I said they had to be single,” Din replied raising his highball glass to his lips. 

Dieter stuck his tongue out at him before turning his head to survey the room. His dark eyes roamed the space once again. So many people with others. ‘Was no one single in the tristate area anymore?’ The thought crossed his mind and he sighed. Maybe it was just going to be him and Din tonight. 

That was until you saddled up to the bar, seemingly with the weight on the world on your shoulders. Dieter’s head poked up as you ordered a shot of tequila. You sprinkled some salt on the crook of your thumb as the bartender set the glass in front of you. Quickly you lapped the salt up with one hand and down the shot in the other, the sting of the alcohol barely affecting you. 

Without looking away, Dieter tugged on Din’s sleeve. “What about that one?” 

Din sighed, only getting slightly fed up with his husband. But when his eyes took you in, something stirred in him. You were very attractive to say the least despite not trying too hard. The favorite shirt that you choose, more for comfort than for attraction, stuck to you in all the right places leaving Din with a nice outline to admire. 

Din hummed which was the most approval he had given all night. Dieter smiled a big goofy grin and practically jumped from the barstool. Though he quickly straightened his outfit to make himself just a tad bit more presentable. Din followed soon and Dieter quickly grabbed his hand dragging the older man over. 

You hadn’t noticed them approach, your mind wiring a thousand thoughts a second. It was only when you heard someone say “Ya know we saw you from across the bar and we like your vibe.” You glanced up and blushed as you took in the odd couple. One man dressed in what you would call disaster chic and the other in a very monochromatic but well put together fit. 

You smirked. “You know this is a new one for me.” 

The messy haired one tilted his head. “Oh and how's that?” 

“Well you aren’t a middle aged straight couple who’s only way to save their marriage is to have a threesome,” You quipped. 

That got a laugh from the shorter man. “We’re about as opposite as that.” 

You raked your eyes over both of them smiling. “You can definitely say that.” 

“Oh where are my manners? Let me introduce ourselves. I’m Dieter and this is my tall, dark and very handsome husband Din.” 

Din held his hand to you and you graciously took it. The size difference from his hands against yours sent heat fluttering to your stomach. “It’s a pleasure to me you,” Din said, taking interest in your reaction. 

“Uh yes um ditto,” You stuttered, still taken aback. “Too bad I’m not dressed up.” You mumbled to yourself. 

Dieter chuckled. “It seems our friend here sees something she likes.” 

“Hmmm? Oh um yes” You blushed quickly taking your hand back. 

“So how about it? Want to see where else there's a size difference?” Dieter asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Your eyes darted back and forth between the pair, but you shrugged your shoulders. “I actually would love that.” 

Dieter’s eyes widened and he clapped his eyes excitedly. “Perfect.” He dramatically pointed to the exit. “Let us make haste and love!” He hurried towards the exit. 

You couldn’t help, but giggle at the man’s antics. You hopped off the stool throwing a few ones onto the counter. “Is he always like this?” You asked Din who offered his arm to you which you gladly accepted. 

“Always.” Din replied, and you followed the chaotic Dieter out the door. 

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

Dieter talked the whole way home to their apartment. It wasn’t so bad. You sat in the back with him as Din drove, and Dieter basically went over all of the kinks he had and what they both were comfortable with. It wasn’t what you were expecting considering your past experiences, but you were thankful for it nonetheless. You laid out what you did and didn’t like to do which Dieter was very receptive too. After your check in, it wasn’t long until you were making out with Dieter, his hands roaming all of you and trying to pull you into his lap. You giggle as you carefully straddled his waist, bracing yourself on the door frame. 

A low purr emanated from Dieter as he nuzzled his face into your clothed breasts. You couldn’t help but giggled as he motorboated against the fabric. With your free hand, you tangled your fingers into his curly hair, giving his scalp a gentle scratch. Dieter squeezed your hips making you squeak from the surprise. He smirked and snaked his hands up your stomach, sighing at your soft skin. You watched as he pushed up your shirt, licking his lips at the sight of your bare tits staring him right in his face. 

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “I see you weren’t interested in the support tonight.” 

You chuckled and kissed his forehead. “Nah, the girls needed to be free tonight.” 

With both of his hands, Dieter gently grasped your breasts in his hands rolling his thumb gently over your peaking nipples. You gasped, pushing your chest forward needing more stimulation from his fingers. Dipping his head, Dieter lapped at your nipples, the chill from his drink still evident on his tongue. You shivered as he lapped at your peaks, loving the contrasting warm and cold feelings. Dieter chuckled, pausing his motions and nuzzling his cheek into your chest. Playfully he bounced your tits saying, “Well I can be their support.” 

You giggled at his playfulness. “Unfortunately I can’t have you holding them 24/7.” 

Dieter pouted. “But I wanna.” 

You smooth his curls away from his forehead. “I’ll see what I can figure out.” 

That returned Dieter’s smile. With one hand still on your breasts, he sneaked his other down your stomach once more sliding them into your pants. You gasped softly as his fingers toyed with the lacey straps. Dieter smirked. “And you said you weren’t dressed up.” 

You blushed. “I wouldn’t consider underwear as dressing up.” 

“On the contrary, sweetheart. I am always an advocate of showing off the fanciest of underwear.” He purred his fingers rubbed against your clothed clit. Slow delicate circles send a pulses of pleasure through your body. Soft pants escaped your lips and you pressed your head into his shoulder. 

Dieter chuckled as he continued his motions, dragging his fingers all around your sensitive bits. His dark eyes caught Din’s in the rearview mirror and he smirked. “My love I believe your eyes stay on the road.” 

All Din gave as a response was a grunt, but Dieter could tell how worked up Din was. Dieter chuckled to himself as they pulled into their long driveway, the car gliding over the smooth concrete. Din turned the car off, quickly unbuttoning his seatbelt and opening the driver side door. It only took a second for him to open the backseat and carefully pull you off of Dieters lap holding you in his arms. 

You bit your lip as Din nuzzled his nose into your neck, his noticeable erection pressing into your stomach. “Oh and what was that about not paying attention?” Dieter teased, closing the car doors behind you. Din growled into your lips and Dieter rolled his eyes. “I’ll get the door” 

Din followed Dieter up the driveway, the footsteps of Dieter’s crocs guiding him into the house. You weren’t paying attention. All of your focus was the taste of whiskey against Din’s soft lips. Quick pants escaped your lips as the warm air of the house hit your skin. Din bit your lips sliding his tongue into your mouth. Gasping your fingers tangled in his hair giving them a firm tug. Din moaned, his cock twitching inside his pants. You chuckled and nuzzled your nose into his stubbled cheek. 

“Oh that’s such a nice sound.” Din blushed, dropping his gaze. You kissed his cheek leaning in close before saying, “I like hearing you moan.” That heard another twitch in his pants as he carried you into the bedroom. 

With your attention focused on other things, you could finally take in the space where Din had carried you. A giant bed lay against the wall with the soft silken covers adorning the top. Memorabilia from Dieter’s collection lined the wall while Din’s areas stayed relatively minimalist. You wondered how such an odd couple ended up together. 

But quickly your mind returned to the task at hand. As gently as handling an animal, Din set you in the middle of the bed. It only took a moment for him to crawl over you, encompassing you with his wide body. You bit your lips as your hands slid up his button shirt, feeling his muscles tensing under your touch. 

“Mmmmm what a lovely sight you two are,” Dieter commented as he sauntered to the edge of the bed. He made himself at home by the pillows as he watched the show. 

You blushed under the attention of the actor, but continued your focus on Din. Your fingers danced over the buttons, slowly opening them to reveal the skin underneath. The sight was utterly delicious and all you wanted to do was lick the saltiness as you made your way down. 

With a slow pull of your hands, you touched every inch of Din’s torso earning gasps from the older man. By the time you reached the tops of his jeans, he was panting, his full erection pressing against the material. Slowly you caressed his cock, feeling the magnitude against your hand. “Shit you are big.” You said, licking your lips. 

Just like his shirt, you undo the button, shifting the material down freeing his cock. It stood at attention with beads of precum already pooling on the head. With a finger, you traced the prominent vein up the shaft to the head where you gathered the precum against your finger. Curiously you brought it up to your lips, not breaking eye contact with Din as the saltiness coated itself over your tongue.

 You moaned at the taste and you could hear Dieter chuckling beside you. “He tastes better than any cocktail.” 

Humming in agreement you shifted yourself bringing your head closer to Din’s. But as you go to take his cock into his mouth, Din stops you with a gentle push on your shoulder. You look up, worried you did something wrong. 

“I want to treat you since you were so kind to agree to this,” Din voiced, a soft pink blush on his cheeks. 

You couldn’t help but blush in return. With these sorts of nights, you were lucky if the man ever went near your vagina with anything other than his cock. Din was such a considerate person that it was a shame this was only for one night. You nodded, returning back to your original position. With dexterous fingers Din pulled your pants along with the underwear off in one fluid motion. You shivered as the cool air hit your legs. Din stared at you with his dark brown eyes as he trailed slow kisses from your calf to your thighs until you could feel his breath against your wet lips. 

“I’m gonna devour you, little flower,” Din purred. 

Dieter rolled his eyes. “We all love your chivalrousness babe, but someone is also getting lonely. And I mean, she did want to blow someone.” Dieter commented and you couldn’t help but smirk. 

With a playful roll of your head, you opened your mouth ready for Dieter’s cock. Dieter smiled pulling down the waist of his well loved yet fashionable sweatpants, his own erection popping out. You lifted your hand giving Dieter a few pumps before kissing the head. His own salty taste mixed with Din’s was like a cocktail of lust in your mouth. 

That was when Din took the opportunity to take a long lick up your lips ending on a flick of his tongue on your clit. You gasped from the sudden pleasure, making you open your mouth. Dieter took the chance and slid the full length of his cock into your mouth. You gagged a little though taking no time to adjust to his size. 

Dieter leaned back his head against the headboard. “S-Shit we should have found you faster.” He slowly thrusted into your mouth, your tongue swirling around and up the shaft. “D-Din we gotta keep her.” 

Din hummed in agreement as he lapped at your clit. Sparks of pleasure tingled in your stomach, making you moan against Dieter’s cock. The full balls slapped against your throat as Dieter’s thrusts started becoming faster. Dieter cursed with each movement enjoying himself immensely. His gaze wandered down to watch Din as he continued to pleasure you like you were his last meal.

“Shit babe, leave some of that for me. She’s gonna need it when I cum inside her.” You moaned at the thought of his cock spilling his seed inside you. Dieter smirked his gaze meeting your eyes. “Is that something you want, doll?” He asked, his thumb tracing your cheek. You nodded the best you could, and Dieter slowly pulled out of your mouth, a trail of saliva connecting you two. 

“You heard the cutie. I think it’s time for the ol’ Johnson to shine,” Dieter exclaimed excitedly as Din shifted away from you. It was your time to roll your eyes at the other man’s antics. Dieter maneuvered around getting on his hands and knees in front of you. 

“You’re ridiculous,” You teased hands cupping Dieter’s cheeks and quickling kissing his lips. 

“Uh ya ridiculously horny,” He replied with a cheeky smirk. 

You threw your head back against the pillows, a loud laugh filling the room. “God you’re funny.” 

Dieter glanced over his shoulder at Din who had kneeled behind him. “See, someone thinks I’m funny.” 

“Just give it a few years,” Din teased back as he gently pulled a very fancy buttplug out of his husband. Dieter moaned at the lack of friction and you preoccupied him with your lips. He pushed for dominance against you, but you pushed back with just the same intensity. 

Din set the butt plug aside and squirted a dollop of lube onto his palm. Carefully he applied the generous amount onto his cock and Dieter’s hole. A soft gasp escaped Dieter’s lips as he shuttered against the chilly material. 

With a quick peck of the cheek, you said “Don’t worry. You’ll be warmed up in no time.” Dieter groaned at your words, his own cock twitching at the idea of being deep inside you. With a slow push, Din entered him a deep grumble vibrating his throat as he felt Dieter pulse around him. Dieter moaned, resting his head on your shoulder as he adjusted to his size. 

Gently you twirled his curls around your fingers, your nails massaging his scalp. It only took him a moment for him to be ready. Dieter gently pumped his own cock adjusting his hips to meet yours. He guided his cock up and down your slit, your arousal coating the head. You both moaned at the feeling. 

But Dieter grew impatient. With his hand he guided his cock to your hole, gathering up the wetness glistening between your legs. With an eager but still gentle push, he buried himself fully inside of you. The noise that escaped his lips was down right sinful as his legs shook from so much pleasure. Small pants flowed from your lips as you felt Dieter filling you to the brim with his cock. It twitched inside of you and you squeezed around it in response. 

“Fuck,” He whimpered nuzzling his nose into your neck, his warm breath ebbing against your skin.

Din took this as a sign to begin thrusting. It was slow at first, gauging how you were handling everything. In and out Dieter’s cock rubbed against the sensitive areas inside you, and you moaned. Fingers pulled at Dieter’s curls earning a new set of moans to the symphony of sex. 

Din grunted as he pulled his cock almost out of Dieter before plunging it back inside of him, sending Dieter deeper inside of you. The trio moaned as everyone was feeling on cloud nine. Din sped of up thrusts, the need for gentleness over. He draped his torso over Dieter’s back, leaning in to bite on the actor’s shoulder. 

Dieter twitched inside of you, and you smirked. “S-Shit I should bite you more,” 

Dieter moaned as Din’s thrusts became more erratic. It was clear that Din was close to cuming and by the way Dieter felt inside of you, he was close too. Your hand slid down your torso and your fingers began circling your clit, speeding up your motions as you felt the heat in your stomach began to grow and grow. 

With each circle you squeezed around Dieter, earning a moan each time. Your fingers pressed on a particularly sensitive bit and you moaned, sending your legs shaking. Dieter couldn’t hold on much longer. With a few more thrusts from Din, Dieter leaned his head back and came hard inside you. You could feel each bit of cum drenching your walls. 

You played with your clit as fast as you could, using your entire hand to gain the pleasure you need. Soon you joined Dieter in the realm of orgasm and came with the tensing of your legs. As you came down from your high, a series of grunts filled the room as Din filled Dieter with his own high. 

All three of you were left panting against the bed. Din was the first to pull out, and with a tilt of your head you could see the cum cascading down Dieter’s leg. Din gave Dieter’s ass a few taps before slowly getting off the bed to grab a towel from the bathroom. 

Almost reluctantly Dieter pulled out of you, his gaze drifting down to see his own seed dripping from you. “Fuck that’s such a pretty sight, doll.” Dieter moaned as he leaned down. You followed his gaze with curiosity. Dieter glanced up. “What? Think I would miss an opportunity to taste the both of us? Not a chance.” With a quick swipe of his tongue, he gathered you and his own arousal on his tongue savoring the saltiness. You gasped at the overstimulation and latched onto his curls for grounding. This only spurred him on, and soon he was devouring like he hadn’t eaten in days. Another orgasm ripped through you, surprising you with how quickly he made you cum. That made Dieter’s ego skyrocket, and he chuckled as he detached himself from you. 

“S-Shit…how?” You asked, panting, mind fuzzy from the pleasure. 

“I can’t give away all of my secrets,” Dieter winked before he settled beside you. His arms pulled you in for cuddles which you gladly appreciated. The warmth from his chest filled you with ease as you wound down from the activities. 

Din reappeared with the washcloth, and with effortless gentleness he cleaned the both of you. He tossed the material aside, dealing with it at a later time, before settling on the other side of you. You practically purred at the feeling of the two men sandwhiching you. 

Everything was quiet as you laid there. Din gently drew imaginary shapes on your skin, and Dieter twirled your hair in his fingers. “C-Can we do this again?” You asked hesitantly not wanting to break the magic of tonight. 

Dieter chuckled against your hair. “I was hoping you would ask that.” You smiled in return happy that your crappy night had turned into something you had a feeling would last a long time.

Credit: @inklore

All Works Taglist:

@for-a-longlongtime @romanarose

Pedro Characters Taglist:

@littlemisspascal @burntheedges

@carusolikey @thebeldroramscal

@morallyinept @lady-bess

@pedrostories @rivnedell

@pascalsanctuary @readingiskeepingmegoing

@jessthebaker

[weeping-statue]

YOU ARE ONTO SOMETHINGG

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT I GOT THIS LEMME COOK🫶

“I Don’t Care What You Think As Long As It’s About Me.”

I don’t care- fallout boy

Richard Sterling x AFAB!Reader

A little long 😔 also Richard fans please!!! Lemme know if this is good!!! I need feedback guys cause then I just think my work is buns😞

Positive and negative (politely) feedback is appreciated 🫶

So from what I saw, or should I say what we saw, we definitely know he’s a manipulator.

For whatever reason, you caught his eye, probably because you had money, but anyways, he knew he had to have you. All to himself. He doesn’t like to share. And he doesn’t play nice.

It started off gently with flirty lines and kind gestures to mask what he was really planning. And you almost could tell. He had this feeling to him that something just wasn’t right. But he was kind and surely you were just overthinking.

Spoiler, you were wrong.

So wrong.

He had approached you one day after he felt like he had done enough for you to favor him, and confessed. Reaching his hand out to you.

“Ah my dear, you’re special.. and I must have you. Please, give me your hand, let me court you properly.”

But you declined, respectfully, it didn’t feel right.

Richard looked at you a little stunned. What..? You were supposed to say “yes.” Not “no.” What was wrong with you? He had done so much to make you fall and you’ve declined him? This.. no he wasn’t going to stand for this. He grabbed the nearest object and whacked you in the head with it. Hard enough for you to black out.

When you awoken dazed and confused, with a pounding headache. You saw him brushing your hair with his fingers. A light ‘comforting’ smile sketched on his face. You couldn’t remember much, and looked at him with those curious eyes, asking him what had happened. To which he answered,

“Just a little tumble, my love. When I couldn’t catch you in time, I was devastated. But that doesn’t matter anymore, you’re fine now, and we are in due time to be joined in matrimony.”

You nodded and leaned into his touch. He seemed to care about you, and with your current situation you had to trust him. For now.

Months had gone by and you hadn’t a clue you were saddled in a relationship made of lies.

Richard during this definitely acted a tad suspicious. Either love bombing you or keeping you at an odd distance. Getting overly paranoid and possessive when any males come by you. Simple conversations or not. He’d have rules in place for you, making you heavily dependent on him. Though when he’d get annoyed he’d push you away without a second thought, not apologizing.

What a confusing(red flag)guy

So finally here is where the song comes into play <3

Richard was acting a bit more paranoid than usual. Biting his lip till it bled, pulling at his hair, biting his nails, and mumbling to himself as he stalked you from a distance. He watched as you and Kevin hung out, talking aimlessly about the previous matches. He was flirty and touchy, and loud, and obnoxious. Something that didn’t belong around you. You, in his eyes, were something from the heavens. You deserved better. You deserved him. In a moment of paranoia and anger he came from the shadows he hid in and grabbed you by the arm, whisking you away. Closing the door to the nearest room which happened to be the library. His hands gripping your shoulders as slammed you against the books, leaning down with a crazed look, mumbling to you,

“Say my name and his in the same breath. I dare you to say they taste the same. How he can compare to me. He doesn’t love you, not like I do. He’s a no good, scoundrel, liar and fiend. Unworthy of your attention. These friends you have, don’t love you. They only love your generosity.”

For the rest of the day you were attached to him and he didn’t let you out of his sight for a moment. Even taking it as far to move into your room for the night. Claiming he didn’t trust the people in the manor.

All while poor Kevin was so confused😞

Sorry Kevin, your no fiend <3

trust ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )

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Sorry Kevin lovers for doing your man like that😞 BUT let me have redemption if you bring me a Kevin fic idea..? Or.. perchance headcanons..? ANYWAYS LOVE YOU GUYS!!!

[bloodyinkandquill]

Windforce x Reader cuddling/sleeping

drabble time!! as mentioned last time i did one of these DO NOT request a drabble i do them when i really want to they will be rare and again i don’t do them if requested:]

—

“Why do you do that?” Windforce questioned in her normal booming tone of voice. She was talking in reference to you preparing to sleep, putting on comfier clothing and fluffing your pillows.

“Why do I… sleep?” You asked in turn, with a confused quirk of your head as you questioned her question.

“Yeah, you don’t need to do why do you? I don’t see any point to it,” She replied with a huff. It is true you didn’t need to but you enjoyed doing so, it was a nice break and it was warm and comfortable.

“…Well how about you try it and maybe you’ll see why I like it!” You suggested with a smile, you weren’t sure if she’d agree but hey it was worth a shot.

Much to your surprise she grumbled and plopped down on your bed. Luckily she wasn’t in her bulky armor at the moment instead in more casual clothes, a black tank top and gray sweat pants, her outfits when not in her armor were usually monochromatic you noticed. You smiled at her happily sitting next to her on the bed, reaching up to give her a small kiss on the cheek, she blushed a bit looking away but kept her stoic expression.

You pulled back the top blanket, it wasn’t that cold so you figured the one would be fine, besides it was the fluffiest and therefore comfiest blanket. You gestured for her to get under it with you which she did somewhat awkwardly. You laughed slightly but got situated yourself.

“So, what do we do now?” Windforce asked voice gruff as she readjusted, having already dispersed her wings since she could much like her son could.

“Well we could cuddle, and then try and sleep,” you suggested with a slight hopeful tone.

“What does that mean?” She asked surprising you by her not knowing what cuddling was.

“It’s like uh- here let me just,” you cut yourself off man handling the deity to be on her side arms around your back going over your shoulders your own arms wrapped around her waist as you nuzzled into her neck, the hight difference was very obvious in this position but you did your best to also tangle your legs with hers. It was more comfortable than you thought honestly, since she’s such a strong buff woman you figured her mussels would make her less comfortable to cuddle but you were pleasantly surprised by being incorrect. “This is cuddling, is it alright?” You asked checking to see if she was comfortable.

“You’re telling me I could have been holding you like this the whole time?!” She shouted in a not quite mad voice, it made you laugh that she enjoyed it so much making you finish snuggling into her head in a comfortable position. She readjusted slightly too to be more comfortable herself and held you a tad tighter, but not enough to squeeze you.

“Okay just close your eyes now and try to not move, let your body relax, and be comfortable, try to also not think a bunch, just let your mind wonder but don’t think too much about what comes to mind. That should let you fall asleep,” you instructed trying your best to explain how sleeping worked. She made a sound of understanding, okay well it was a grunt but you figured it meant she understood, as you closed your own eyes softly.

It was very comfortable and you felt so safe in her arms, the only odd thing was her lack of heart beat, you supposed it made sense but it was still creepy to hear nothing in her chest. Eventually the two of you both fell asleep, warm and close.

A few hours later when you woke up you could tell she was still asleep, you tried to very gently pry her arms off and wiggle your way out of her grasp, unluckily it roused her as one of her eyes opened staring you down intently.

“You are not going anywhere,” Windforce practically commanded, you let out a noise of protest and she just squeezed you closer, you wriggled again to no avail. You sighed giving up on fighting to get out of her arms, you were the one who suggested this now you have to deal with her not wanting to stop.

—

hope you enjoyed! had fun writing it, tried to be neutral with the readers words and actions but i couldn’t help but project myself on them sorry lol, anyways im going to take an hour nap now im tired

[majoryeager104]

Could you pretty please write something for hawks and dabi (separate) with their s/o who has a hard time believing they’re pretty and like people don’t usually compliment their appearance so the first time their bf does they’re like “HUH?” I hope that made sense I’ve just been a tad insecure lately :(

omg yes I gotcha

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Touya

It had been a while since Touya had last convinced you to let him take you somewhere nice for dinner. It had been even longer since he’d dressed nice. But you always seemed to look amazing, at least to him, and so he told you, leaning against the doorframe as he looked you up and down.

“you always look effortlessly stunning don’t ya?”

silence

“…huh?”

Touya paused, scratching his head. “I said you look nice, what do you mean ‘huh’?” He furrowed his brow, tilting his head as he leaned closer to you. He was genuinely curious, and you couldn’t blame him. It seemed like an odd response to such a sweet compliment.

“I…well, I’m not used to getting compliments…thanks”

you said nervously, laughing as a blush crept across your face. At this, Touya raised his eyebrows, his eyes impossibly wide.

“my turn. Huh?”

You blinked, and he scoffed, resting his hands on your hips.

“you’re fucking stunning, y/n. Are you serious? How many compliments have you gotten in the past…year?”

silence

“one”

“Not including mine”

even further silence. Touya scoffed, running his hands up and down your sides. “People are probably too scared to approach you” “why?” “Cause you’re so pretty, of course! They probably get nervous. Good.”

“good? What do you mean?”

“Leaves the job to me”

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Keigo

“I look terrible”

You said quietly, looking at your new outfit in the mirror. You loved it, but it felt to you like every time you tried something on, it lost its charm, like you just didn’t look good in anything, and vice versa. You and Keigo were going out on a date soon, meaning the media would probably say the same things you told yourself about how you looked.

“hey!”

Keigo’s voice cut through your thoughts as he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re perfect”

you scoffed, looking down at your clothes, which would presumably be criticized as soon as the two of you stepped outside

“the media doesn’t seem to agree”

“the media is full of a bunch of morons who have nothing on you. Don’t listen to people you don’t even know. Listen to me.”

Keigo kissed your shoulder, glancing up at you.

“I for one, think you look absolutely amazing right now. The outfit is a perfect color combo, and for the record everything fits you really well”

“you seem to know quite a bit about fashion”

“of course I do, sweets, which is why you should listen when I tell you that you’re perfect.”

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Banner creds to @ Sharlock and other artist I couldn’t read the signature for to save my life! (If anyone recognizes the artist lmk)

[lovelymalleus]

Cowboy || Boothill x G/N Child! Reader (PLATONIC) - Honkai Star Rail

After he had lost his precious daughter during the IPC attack on his planet, it was no surprise Boothill would be oddly overprotective over his dear ones. Especially over you.

You were a child much like Boothill’s daughter, but you being only a tad bit older since she was only a few months old at the time. Once you had came in, Boothill made a silent vow to himself that he would protect you like you were his child, not even letting you out of his sight for a second. He just didn’t want to lose you like he lost his little girl is all!

Which was quite ironic as he had first met you through aiming his revolver at your head, thinking you were someone here to collect his bounty, only to see it was literally just a kid. He still remembers the way you almost passed out. Poor you.

So no wonder Boothill almost lost it when he noticed your tiny footsteps weren’t heard behind him anymore, what’s left of his heart instantly dropping.

Panic struck as he looked around frantically, cursing (or at least trying to) himself out for not keeping a closer eye on you while a million thoughts of what could possibly happen without his supervision on you raced through his head.

What if you had gotten seriously hurt?

What if something—or someone—took you?

What if you were stuck somewhere, stranded with a bunch of people you didn’t even know?

It was odd to see the infamous Galaxy Ranger; Boothill getting all worked up and worried over some missing kid. Why’d he care so much anyway? Was it something about you? Did he just oddly grow attached?

Or did he simply view you as someone he once cradled before it was snatched away from him abruptly?

“Mr. Boothill!”

Instantly, Boothill stopped in his tracks, pausing his search for you and spinning his head towards the familiar small voice. There you were; all safe and sound, but with tears falling down your chubby cheeks as you raced over to him.

Boothill dropped to his metallic-like knees and caught you in his arms tightly, feeling your tight grip around his shoulders as you hugged him, burying your face into his shoulder.

“I told ya not to wander off, didn’t I? To stay close to me? You could’ve gotten hurt all alone like that, you lil’ brat…” Boothill would lightly scold you, standing up while lifting you in his arms, holding you close and pinching your cheek in a scolding matter.

His grip around you was tight as if he were worried that if he let go—you’d vanish without a trace.

A hiccup left you in response, struggling to put your words together to which Boothill began to rub the small of your back as a way to calm you down, “I-I didn’t mean to…! I-I just really wanted that plushie—hiccup—over there…!” Boothill watched as your shaky finger tried pointing in the direction of the toy stand, pointing in the wrong direction in the process. But he still knew what you were referring to.

You were clearly referring to that cowboy plushie you spotted while you were walking with Boothill earlier, the one that you couldn’t avert your gaze from which Boothill also called “just a mini, knock-off” version of him. It’s quite obvious that you only wanted it because it reminded you of Boothill.

“But-but when I looked back to you, you weren’t there anymore…!”

You broke out in another fit of sobs, hugging his neck tighter, your cheeks all stained with your tears, and your nose stuffy. Your head was even beginning to throb from how much you were crying.

“You mean that little cowboy you kept lookin’ at? You got your own real-life cowboy though, don’t you?”

“Nuh-uh! I want the plushie, so I can have two of you!”

At your silly words, Boothill had to bite his lip from letting out a snicker, knowing you’d probably get even more upset, and instead decided to indulge you, “Fine, if you want it so bad that you nearly made me pop a screw, I’ll buy you it.” Boothill reassures, wiping that small tear threatening to slip down your cheek away with his cold hand. You can only sniffle and quietly nod in a meek way, rubbing your eyes.

Before Boothill can move however, you suddenly cupped his cheeks with your small hands which was pretty much the only part of his body he can feel you touch, causing him to pause and look down at you. You knocked your head against his and mumbled, “You’re my real papa, Boothill…My only papa…” You ask with a small sniffle, patting his cheeks.

Boothill stood there, stunned for a brief second before he quickly regained his composure, and sent you a toothy smile that showed off his razor sharp teeth, “What a sweet lil’ thing you are…You certainly got a way with words, don’t you?” He ruffled your hair and placed his hat directly on your head to which it fell right over your eyes, causing you to quickly try and adjust it with a small yelp as Boothill made his way over to the stand you were whining about.

This time, he was sure he wasn’t going to let you out of his sight—no matter how much you whine for him to let you run around. He already lost one kid of his, he can’t lose another one.

clara and svarog 2.0 fr

[sydsaint]

Drink Prime Baby!!!!

Summary: Logan realizes that he might have a hopeless crush on his manager at the worst possible time. Five minutes before his triple-threat match on Mania weekend.

The alarm on your phone blares from it's spot leaning up against your vanity mirror. 'Mania Time' flashes across the screen in bold letters, reminding you that it's almost time to head out and meet up with Logan.

You finish curling your hair and switch off the curler before grabbing the hairspray and dousing your hair so every curl stays neatly in place. "There." You smile at yourself in the mirror. "Okay. I can clean this up later. Logan is probably waiting for me." You push all of your vanity supplies away from you and silence your alarm.

You pocket away your phone and grab your security badge off the back of the chair before heading to the door. You exit the ladies changing room and head off to find Logan backstage.

After weaving through the hectic backstage are for a while, you spot Logan's business partner and friend, JJ ahead. You quicken your pace and head over to him.

"JJ, hey! Any idea where Logan is at?" You walk up to JJ and greet him.

JJ turns around and flashes a friendly smile at you. "YN, hey. Damn, you're looking nice." He comments on your done-up appearance.

"Well it is Mania weekend." You giggle and flip your hair playfully. "You're looking all done up and nice as well. No prime costume for you this year?" You tease him playfully.

"Logan's got someone else for that this year." JJ chuckles. "And speaking of Logan. There he is now." He nods behind you.

You turn around and spot Logan as he comes into the room looking ready to go. You smile at him and wait for him to head over to you and JJ.

"Logan! There you are, champ! How are you feeling about tonight?" You ask him.

"YN!" Logan reaches your side and gazes down at you, a soft expression plastered on his face.

JJ watches his friend greet you with a larger than life smile. He's known Logan for a long time now, and he doesn't think he's ever seen that twinkle in Logan's eyes before. It's a bit odd to watch.

"Of course I'm ready!" Logan nods at you with a confident smile. "Wow, you look great, by the way." He adds in a genuine tone, his voice fluxuating a tad.

"Thanks, Logan." You grin back at him with a slight flush to your cheeks. "Now remember what we discussed, alright? Let Randy and Kevin do all the heavy lifting. They might be acting like friends right now. But that wont last long." You remind him, switching over to work mode for a moment.

Logan nods. "I got it." He assures you with a smile. "You aint worried about me? Are you YN?" He teases you jokingly. "You going to hang out back here with JJ?" He adds. "Offer still stands to come hang out with me and my new Prime guy."

"Yeah! I'll see you on the other side, YN!" Logan matches your energy before strutting over to the curtain.

"I'm alright." You shake your head. "And no. I'm not worried about you. You've got this. As always." You assure him. "Go get 'em tiger! You got this!" You pat his shoulder and offer one last confidence-boosting smile.

Your hand lingers on Logans arm for a second longer than needed. JJ takes notice of this and raises his eyebrows slightly.

JJ watches silently as Logan disappears through the curtain. He stands for a moment and watches Logan's entrance on the monitors before he turns to you.

"How long have you and Logan been working together, YN?" JJ asks you curiously.

You turn away from the monitors to answer JJ's question with a small shrug. "Umm, almost a year I think." You answer him.

"Right. You too are so close! It seems like longer." JJ chuckles. "The two of you make a good team." He adds.

"Thanks!" You beam. "I try my best. But to be honest, Logan does most of the work." You joke.

JJ laughs again and nods. The two of you go back to watching the match on the monitors for a while. You move through a whole mixed-bag of emotions during Logan's match. Something that JJ can't help but pick up on.

"You dating anyone right now, YN?" JJ asks you seemingly out of the blue.

"What? Umm, no. Not at the moment." You turn to JJ with a surprised look on your face. "Why? You trying to hit on me, JJ?" You joke with a quirked brow.

JJ rolls his eyes playfully and shakes his head. "I was just curious." He insists before turning back to the monitors.

"Okay." You nod and do the same.

You and JJ watch the rest of Logan's match. Logan ends up picking up the win and you jump for joy! JJ laughs to himself as he realizes something. His best friend has a thing for you. And you might just feel the same way.

Logan comes through the curtain a few minutes later pouring sweat with his title belt slung over his shoulder. "You won!" You rush over to him in excitement. "I knew you could do it, Logan!" You dive in for a hug but Logan puts a hand out and stops you.

"Woah there!" Logan stops you from making contact with him. "Easy now, YN. I am covered in sweat right now." He points to himself. "You come any closer and you're going to be soaked as well. And you look way to nice right now to be messing that up." He chuckles.

"Right." You laugh at yourself and drop your outstretched arms back to your sides. "We at least have to take a picture to commemorate this moment." You retrieve your phone from your pocket.

Logan nods in agreement and leans down to your level so you can snap a picture with him. You take the photo and go to post it on your socials while Logan walks over to JJ to chat for a minute.

The best friends and business partners greet one-another and shake hands.

"Congrats, man." JJ greets his friend with a proud smile. "How you feeling right about now?" He asks Logan.

"I'm great, man!" Logan chuckles. "Riding that high after that win, man!"

JJ nods and glances over at you on your phone a few feet away. He turns back to Logan and decides that he's got to give his friend a little push in the right direction.

"It sure would be the icing on the cake if you finally got around to bagging the girl too, huh?" He asks Logan, nodding toward you at the same time.

"The girl?" Logan replies in confusion. "What? Who? ....YN?" He turns around to you still typing away on your phone.

You look up from your phone at the mention of your name and look over at Logan and JJ. "Yeah?" You put your phone away and turn your attention to the pair. "What's up you two?" You ask them.

"Nothing." Logan replies sharply. "JJ's just giving me a hard time is all." He adds jokingly.

"Alright." You nod. "They want us for the media scrum after the show, by the way." You add, turning back to Logan. "Do you want to go cool off before they need us?" You ask him.

Logan nods and adjusts the title on his shoulder. "Yeah, that'd be good. You want to hold onto this for me?" He takes the title off his shoulder and offers it to you. "I'd rather you hold onto it than let JJ get his grubby hands on it." He jokes.

"Sure." You giggle and take the belt.

JJ and Logan head back to the locker rooms and you hang around backstage and wait for them to come back. While waiting you secure Logans title around your waist while game-planning some PR stuff for later.

Back in the locker room JJ confronts Logan while he's cooling off and getting changed.

"Logan, man. About earlier. I didn't mean anything about the whole YN thing." He tries to clean things up the best he can. "Its just...we've been friends for a while man. And I don't think I've ever seen you look at a girl like you look at her."

Logan bows his head, gaze casted to the floor and an awkward silence falls over the room. JJ sits silently and waits for Logan to answer him.

It takes Logan a couple of minutes, but he does eventually come up with an answer to JJ's accusation. "I don't know man..." Logan rubs the back of his neck. "YN...she's great. Pretty and super smart. And so good at what she does." He smiles to himself. "I don't think I'd even be a champion right now without her."

JJ laughs and pats Logan on the arm. "It sounds to me like you've got it bad buddy." He chuckles. "So why haven't you told her how you feel?"

"I don't know man." Logan sighs. "I guess because I don't know if she feels the same." He admits. "I don't want to lose her. I can't do this job without her at my side." His gaze drops to the floor again.

JJ can't help but laugh again. It's like something out of one of those cheesey romance movies his girlfriend is always dragging him to see. Logan looks up and frowns at him when he starts laughing and JJ has to take a minute to compose himself.

"What's so funny?" Logan huffs at JJ.

"Nothing man." JJ wipes a fake tear from his eye. "Logan, man. She's into you. Trust me on that, mate." He assures Logan.

Logan bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head, unsure if JJ is messing with him or not. "Are you sure?" He asks JJ. "You really think that I should tell her how I feel?"

"Yes!" JJ hops to his feet. "Come on! Put a shirt on! Then wipe that pathetically nervous look off your face, head outside, and go kiss your manager!" He hypes Logan up.

"Okay okay!" Logan chuckles and does as he's told.

JJ stands back and walks his pep-talk at work. Logan throws his shirt on and strides out of the room in search of you. Logan weaves his way through the backstage area with JJ hot on his heels. He finally spots you hanging out in almost the same spot he left you in earlier. You are leaned against the wall casually and typing on your phone. Logan's title belt is secured neatly around your waist as you wait for him to come back.

"Holy shit." Logan freezes up when he gets a glimpse of you with his title, all his confidence suddenly gone from his body.

JJ comes up behind Logan and sets a hand on his shoulder. "You got this man." He assures Logan before giving him a small shove forward.

Logan stumbles forward and swallows hard. He stumbles over a few words before coming up to you with an awkward, "Hey, YN."

"Hmm?" You look up from your phone. "Oh, there you are! And you look nice and fresh now!" You grin and playfully reach up to ruffle Logan's fluffy hair.

"Yeah." Loga chuckles nervously. "You make one hell of a champion, you know that?" He adds, gesturing down to his title.

You giggle and blush a bit before moving to hand it back to Logan. But he stops you before you can reach back and undo the latch. "YN, there's something that I need to tell you." He explains.

"Okay." You nod, arms dropping back to your sides. "What's up? You look nervous." You recognize the uncharacteristic look of nervousness on Logan's face.

Logan rubs the back of his neck again as he tries to search for the right words to say. "I know that we've been working together for almost a year now. And you've been the best manager that I could has asked for." He smiles at you. "But the truth is...I don't know if I can go on acting like that's all you are to me anymore."

Your heart skips a beat as Logan reaches dow ad grabs your hand tentatively. You've been keeping a hapless crush on your favorite blond media star for so long now. And he here is, confessing that he feels the same way that you do about him.

It's like a dream come true. And you aren't sure what to do.

You lock eyes with Logan, breath caught in your throat. Neither of you are willing to move a muscle, both of you too scared to make a move.

"Will you just kiss the poor sap already, YN!" JJ shouts from across the room and a smile cracks on your face. You take JJ's advice and grab a fistful of Logan's shirt before yanking him down to your level.

You crash your lips to Logan's and feel him smile against your lips. His hands snake around your waist and slide up your back before pulling you into him as close as he can. JJ cheers playfully for the two of you, and a couple of bystanders chime in playfully.

You break away from Logan once your lungs start to burn from lack of oxygen. You let go of his shirt and wrap your arms around his neck breathlessly.

"This doesn't mean that you're done being m manager, right?" Logan asks you playfully.

"Not a chance." You giggle. "I'm your ride or die now, Logan Paul." You grin and lean up for another kiss.

Logan happily kisses you again, gentler this time. "That makes me one lucky son-of-a-bitch." He grins.

[i2valeri]

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ i <3 yang ! for todays shenanigans hani tries to bring valerie to her senses, because she doesn’t ACTUALLY believe a single soul could like her. 蝴蝶 so yang jungwon comes to the rescue.

valerie was definitely anti-social. she really didn’t know how to express her feelings, so it made her feel a tad bit odd in a group of loud introverts or hyper extroverts.

she didn’t force herself into any group hangouts or conversations, but of course her closest co-member, hani, always invited her to stuff without her being able to say no.

“I think val wants to come.”

“val likes those kinds of things.”

“we should invite val.”

valerie always depended on hani as she was 2 years older than her, practically her older sister. she was glad to have someone that could always stay by her side you know? someone that can help her fit in—

“valerie song!” the older girl snapped valerie back to consciousness, they were both sitting on the edge of the bed face to face, “valerie! come on! I can’t always be the one who’s helping you with getting along with your other members!” hani nagged the younger girl, while valerie just sighed.

“easy for you to say. any word that comes out of your mouth, suddenly everyone bursts into laughter.” valerie crossed her arms, kinda disappointed that just this one time, hani wasn’t siding with her.

“it’s not my fault I’m enfp.” hani pouted, valeire was right. the typical extroverted energetic girl who could make anyone laugh with her jokes, someone who was friendly and out going.

in-fact, valerie was the opposite of whatever hani was. valerie was infj, typically described as “INTJs look rather intimidating. INTJs are famous for their death stares.”

exactly what valerie was to almost everyone else.

“most of our members are sociable, val ! trust me ! it’s not hard to get closer with them!” hani held valeries shoulders, shaking her softly. “easy for you to say.”

“what would you do if I’m not there and you guys are together? sit quietly and not even spare a glance…?”

…that was the plan. valerie thought to herself, just giving hani a glance of guilt. “don’t tell me you were thinking it.” she wasn’t ACTUALLY planning to do it.. right?

“…” valerie stayed silent; looking down at the ground like she was taking into consideration, focused on thinking. “fine.” valerie had finally agreed to something, she agreed upon trying to get close to each member one by one.

“oh my god! yes! it will be so worth it when you guys are finally close !!” hani squealed in excitement, “who did you get closest with first? who’s the easiest to get close with?” valerie asked curiously.

“actually. come to think of it, it was jungwon.”

valerie definitely did not expect jungwon to come out of hani’s mouth, jungwon seemed like a quiet introvert, but when she saw him during hangouts and conversations, his personality said otherwise.

but sometimes, jungwon seemed a bit neutral when it came to valerie since she was someone he didn’t know yet personally, “jungwon ?! how am I gonna get close with him ?!” valerie asked in confusion.

“val.. trust me it’s gonna be easy for you—”

“hani. I noticed whenever I passed by jungwon he wouldn’t even spare a glance, when I said hi he would wave slightly and walk away. I swear… that man does not like me!” valerie ranted as hani watched her, waiting for a chance to talk.

“jungwon… doesn’t like you?” hani said in denial, “yes! he obviously doesn’t want to be associated with me.” valerie face planted into her pillow.

“oh my god val! who do you think is the one who’s always asking to bring you into conversations and hangouts? it wasn’t me… it was jungwon who always asked me to bring you into convos!” hani corrected her bestfriend, valerie.

“what?”

“val he wants to be close with you! he is always saying ‘i feel bad for val, i understand she can’t express her feelings. I wish I could talk to her’ yadaydada! that’s what he says val! he wants you to be included!” hani suddenly confessed,

“jungwon was the first person to bring you up in whatever we would do! he’s a caring leader… he loves all of the members! mostly you val… mostly you!” hani nagged the stunned girl.

so it turns out… every time she got invited… it was jungwon who initiated it ?! “wait… so if jungwon never initiated to invite me, would you have not invited me…?”

“of course not! but it was jungwon who always asked me to do it, val he’s shy to talk to you.”

“everyone is! they all like you, but it just seems like you don’t like them.”

“val this might seem straightforward. but they all do love you, they want to be closer with you. they hate the distance, they think your the one distancing from them.”

oh my fucking god! if this is what they think about valerie… what could they be talking about at dance practice right now …. ?!?

⠀

⠀ 🎐 𓂅 我爱你 . . !

⠀

“plan to talk to valerie has now officially started! who wants to start their idea first ?” heeseung stood up on the couch, like they were doing a whole project to finally stop being cowards and talk to valerie.

“what if we invite her to a restaurant and hang out? seems like we could get to know her more like that.” sunghoon smiled softly at the mere thought of overcoming the fear of talking to val.

“you guys are gonna make it awkward of how you don’t even notice her when were are all sitting together in the dining room.” jungwon said from across the room, arms crossed but not that far.

“so in simple terms… we go to her?” jay asked, his hand on his chin, head resting on his hand. “no shit sherlock, how could she go to us ?!” jake playfully hit jay on the shoulder.

“what if we go to her, we could watch a movie. her favorite movie! what’s her favorite movie?” sunoo said, while riki was finishing his sentences. “wait what’s her favorite movie?” riki asked.

“oh that’s hard…” jake thought hard, he thought ‘valerie’ but the sheer thought of val made him giggle and chuckle like a little kid. “I got nothing.” he sighed softly.

“heeseung, do you know?” the zoned out hamster who has still standing on the couch suddenly snapped out of it and turned to jake, “I don’t remember… if she probably ever told us, I was just looking at her most probably.” heeseung scratched his nape in guilt.

“jay? sunghoon? got anything?”

“nope.”

it was decided, the boys knew absolutely… nothing about what valerie liked or what she didn’t liked.. except for one. “guys. it’s dead poets society; she told us !! how can you not remember?”

“ohhhhh yeah” they said in unison, “i guess jungwon has one point score in val’s heart.” sunoo said sarcastic, but the boys obviously didn’t take it as a joke.

“so are we gonna talk to her?” ni-ki asked, the boy was clearly nervous. “what am i gonna do? dress up as a dead poets society character and suddenly we are two peas in a pod?” ni-ki joked around, but he was really in-fact scared to even make eye contact with the girl.

heeseung tapped on his hard notebook, making everyone turn to him. “plan initiated.. operation talk to valerie has now started.”

“if I talk to val I might shit my pants and pass out.. I can’t even look at her!” jake was going CRAZY. and so was everyone else, just by thinking that they were gonna finally talk to val.

thinking of @valerieace ?!

okay I loved this chapter. nd I hope you did too 🫶 if you read this first chapter THIS FAR I love you sososooso much. okay that’s it 🙏

[itoshi-s]

anon requested: rin + "why do you keep marking me up? it's hard to mask and people are staring..." // no lukewarm love v-day event !

wk: 1.5k. cw: mildly suggestive, fem coded reader, mention of bruises/hickeys, fluff. rin wears a panda headband i want to eat him whole

standing in front of your full-width bathroom mirror at 6:43 am, eyes still bleary with sleep and hair sticking out in odd directions, you think you just might actually hate your boyfriend.

you know he doesn't exactly mean to do it - but all sense of rationality is long forgotten when the bright violet, reddish bruises are the first thing you notice in your reflection.

with a sigh, you put your fluffy headband on, keeping every hair out of your face, then start applying makeup. you'll have to be quick with it this time, too - you have hit snooze once or twice, and you certainly don't want to be late, yet still have something else than your face to spend time on camouflaging.

the soft playlist you've put on helps calm some of the annoyance that bubbles in your chest as you hum along under your breath, curling your lashes and applying a final coat of mascara. you put on your lip gloss, smacking your lips as you stare at your reflection, and as the initial bleariness of waking up dies down, you actually feel more amused than irritated upon the sight of hickeys littered down your neck.

rin's a possessive lover. he wants - needs - to feel every inch of your skin under his large, roaming hands. he grabs and kneads the flesh, holds it in a tight grip when he manhandles you however he seems fit. when in the moment, rin doesn't pay any mind whether it leaves marks - in fact, there are times when he wants it more than anything, like when you get home from a party looking just a tad too pretty and the green eyed monster creeps up on him. just want to mark up what's mine, the teal-eyed would mumble, laying on his tummy as he glares at you childishly.

you adore his passionate nature - feel on top of the world and like the most beautiful thing to exist when he gives you that look, overcome with love and desire.

but, for the love of god, you appreciate your sleep and sanity just as much, you think as you dab on the third layer of thick concealer, stacked on top of color corrector that really fucking struggles to balance out the purple hues.

you check the time, realizing you've got to leave the house in half an hour now, and that rin's alarm should go off in a minute or two.

as if on cue, there's a pair of footsteps approaching the bathroom door, then they're pushed open to reveal your boyfriend in all his sleepy glory.

shirtless and rubbing at his eyes, rin yawns as he makes his way over to your side of the bathroom counter. he circles an arm around your waist, broad chest feeling warm against your fluffy robe, and he sighs as his head drops to your shoulder.

"hi," rin mumbles, voice hoarse and gravelly with sleep as his lips move against the bare skin on your neck. he kisses a birthmark there and gives your waist a squeeze, turquoise gaze meeting your reflection in the mirror with an appreciative hum. "y'look nice, baby." a pause, "no eyeliner today?"

you just give a gentle shake of your head, eyebrows twitching to furrow and lips almost curling into a smirk. he's so, so clueless - it's endearing, in a way, you think as you watch him slip away and stand by the second sink.

"mm. don't have time for it today." you say softly, stuffing your powder brush back into your makeup bag and zipping it close.

perhaps your voice sounds a bit too quiet, or the exhaustion is still prominent on your features despite the glowy products you so carefully put on, cause rin's eyes drift back to life and gleam with worry.

he turns the faucet on and fiddles with the temperature, giving your face an once-over in the mirror before turning to the sink again.

"oh." he nods, fingers reaching for the fluffy, panda-eared headband you took off barely a few seconds ago. pulling it on with ease, rin wants to say something more, but dismisses it and goes to wash his face instead.

the water, as nice as it feels on his face, doesn't wash off any of this funny, uneasy feeling. is something wrong? are you mad at him? do you feel bad and shouldn't go to work today? (he will make you call it off if that's the case. there's no way you're going in sick.)

there's many possibilities, and he won't be certain until he asks. dabbing his face off with a towel, rin clears his throat to speak before turning to you - but you beat him to it.

"rin," you begin, voice sounding so resigned it makes his brows knit together. "why do you keep marking me up?"

blinking not once, not twice, but perhaps a few times too many, he does look so clueless, so silly, you have to bite back a laugh. you're supposed to be annoyed with him - but how can you really, when he's just doing all that out of bottomless, unconditional love?

continuing, "it's hard to mask and people are staring..." you trail off, giving yourself a glance in the mirror, head tilting to show more of the poorly concealed marks, as if to prove your point.

you look back at rin, who now doesn't look as puzzled anymore. instead, there's a slight frown settled in his pretty features, long lashes still damp and stuck together, lips pulled into a tight line that almost resembles a pout.

the black, fluffy ears sticking out from messy green hair really sell the look, though.

"what do you mean?" rin argues, and you go to sigh, crossing your arms. "you cover these up?"

your eyes widen, snapping over to the striker's face again. for a second, you think you've misheard him - but in fact, he does look as serious as it gets. your heart jolts with shock, flabbergasted at how truly, utterly shameless he is.

"rin!" you gasp, finger pointing to the side of your neck in exasperation. "of course i do! i can't go around work like that," you insist, tugging the hem of your robe to the side.

the man scowls, eyes trained on the faint pinks and purples. "well i don't see anythin' wrong with it," he deadpans and your shoulders slump in defeat. rin turns to face the mirror again, reaching for his toothbrush.

"everyone else does," you whine, pulling at the tie around your waist and sliding the robe off. you go to hang it up, then reach for the clothes you've neatly folded and laid on the counter last night. "i... like the way they look. and feel." you start bashfully, eyes trained on the ground when you step into your dress pants and swiftly pull them up your legs.

rin smirks at that, just slightly before you can see it and smack it right off his face.

you're quiet for a second, and rin takes the time to trail his eyes down your body as he sticks the toothbrush in his mouth. well, to be fair, there are quite a few bruises littered all over, some darker than others. there's a bite mark-shaped one, too, right on the swell of your breast, which you go to cover with the skin tight long sleeve you put on next.

(he fears your reaction when you go to look into the mirror and see it peeking out the neckline.)

it might irk you, and make people uncomfortable or amused, even - but he loves the way they look on your skin, a sharp contract to the smooth, glowy canvas, momentarily stained with his love that runs oh, so feverishly through every single cell in his body.

isn't it only natural he wants to find an output for it and eventually mark what's his?

"but-" you continue, fixing the gold charm between your breasts, the small, zirconia-studded R glimmering under the bathroom lights. "i'd appreciate it if you... kept it down." you mumble, looking up at rin again and your gaze meets his in the mirror.

rin rolls his eyes dramatically, lips quirking up into a ghost of a smile as he brushes his teeth. perhaps, he can try and opt for more... hidden places. it's not ideal - the need to showcase his claim on you still as strong as ever - but not everyone can pay so little mind to what others think of him like he does. certainly, you can't. not with your line of work, either.

he knows, and that's why it almost feels funny when his heart thumps in his chest with refusal. maybe he is a little immature, in a way - but maybe, it's not such a bad thing at all. not when it's your love that makes him feel like a kid, carefree and playful again.

"fine." rin grumbles, words muffled around the brush as he works it on the back of his teeth, sending you an amused look that has your tummy doing flips. "will hav'ta find other ways to mark my territory, though."

[innocent-artery]

is this how u request? anyways! i was wondering if u could do like a spencer reid w like a girl best friend, but like he has feelings for her

she does all these little things for him like bring him coffee and food and let him ramble and stuff

i was thinking of writing it myself but id love to see someone else’s take <3

This is typically how people send in requests (either via inbox or comments) so you're good! I had so much fun writing this, thank you for sending it in!

Loverboy

1.6k words

Summary: Spencer's got a big fat crush on his best friend.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bestfriend!reader

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. Reader discretion advised.

While reading, I recommend listening to valentine's day - a spotify playlist by me!

~

Everyone in the office that morning knew that it was far too early to be there. Spencer, more than most, relied heavily on the power of caffeine to get his day going. It was not uncommon for folks to be carrying around a mug even in the late hours of the night.

And as always you, like a gift from God, would always saunter through the meeting room door with two steaming cups of coffee and a weary smile.

Spencer adored you. Although everyone on the team had a place in his heart, you were always the one closest to him. You were the one who had taken the time to get to know him, who listened to anything he had to say and got to know him as more than a coworker, an agent, a "resident genius" like he was some kind of appliance.

It was rocky at first, no doubt. Spencer was not the most perceptive when it came to reading social cues (or giving them to others), so his stiff and awkward nature took a while to see past. Eventually, you managed to break down the walls of caution around him, and over the span of a few years the two of you became more accustomed to being around each other more than anyone else. Even though you spent practically days together at a time, the two of you found solace in each other's presence, often heading back to someone's apartment and ordering takeout to wind down after the case with a movie.

To Spencer's embarrassment and yours, it had become the group's joke to refer to you two as The Soulmates. The first time Morgan made the joke, Spencer's entire face went a deep shade of red and he couldn't look at anything other than his feet for the rest of the hour. Eventually the two of you became accustomed to the running joke, brushing it off with a sarcastic laugh and roll of the eyes.

To be fair, Morgan wasn't entirely wrong. The two of you were joined at the hip, but you were just friends. It saddened Spencer to think about it sometimes, really. But he was content with having you so close, to be able to work with you and come home with you. To get to bring each other coffee and let you rest your head on his shoulder when you fell asleep was a closeness he granted to few people, and so he was, for the most part, satisfied with having you as you did.

That morning was no different. The sun had just barely risen, and Spencer was stifling a yawn as sugar poured into his cup like water. This morning was odd- a thought had struck him in the car, a comment Prentiss had made saying you and him were like a married couple. Was that true? Spencer knew plenty of married people but he didn't see them in action very often.

Would you even want to marry him? No, Spencer thought. You were just his friend. Sure, you did all sorts of favors for him and hugged him, but that was surely just a mark of close friendship.

"Morning, pretty boy." Morgan came up beside him, bringing a mug down from the shelf.

"Morning." Spencer replied, sipping from his coffee.

"So have you proposed yet?"

Spencer nearly choked on his coffee, replying with a "what?!" once he stopped spluttering that might have been a tad bit too incredulous.

"Jesus, Reid, I was kidding." Morgan held his hands up, but he still wore an amused grin.

""We're just friends, Morgan." Spencer said defensively, moving to prepare another cup.

"You're making her morning coffee right now, pretty boy. You know who does that?" Morgan gestured his mug in Spencer's direction. "Married couples."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and coworkers."

"Keep tellin' yourself that, Reid." Morgan gave him a pat on the shoulder, sauntering back over to his desk with his free hand in his pocket.

Spencer heaved a relieved sigh, taking both cups over towards your desk. You beamed at him when the smell hit your nose.

"Well thank you, Spencer." You squeezed his wrist affectionately, and Spencer thought he might die. He turned his head to hide the stupid smile on his face, mumbling a "welcome", but the other direction didn't help him much. Morgan's desk shared a divider wall with yours, so the man in question simply raised his brow, a knowing smirk surely hidden behind his coffee cup.

Spencer rolled his eyes, turning back towards you. Your head was tilted in concern. "You alright, Spencer? You seem a bit jittery."

To strangers, Spencer might always seem jittery, like a nervous cat. But you could tell the difference.

Spencer cleared his throat. "I'm alright. Too much coffee, maybe."

Spencer nearly slapped himself when he realized his mug was still full. He prayed you didn't notice, tilting the rim so you couldn't see its contents.

"Alright kidlets, let's get this party started." Garcia called from the meeting room door, a stack of envelopes tucked under her arm.

You pushed off from your chair, nudging Spencer's shoulder. "Let's get this party started," you chuckled.

Spencer lightly touched his arm where you'd nudged him, watching you make your way across the office.

"Let's get this party started, Loverboy," Morgan, seemingly coming from nowhere, rubbed his shoulder against Spencer's dramatically, voice risen in pitch.

"Shut up!" Spencer pushed the man off of him, but couldn't help the laugh that came with it.

. . .

Four days later the team was right back where it started, making coffee and wrapping up paperwork- only this time there was a silent agreement that everyone wanted to get home.

Even in these low-energy moments Spencer still stayed by you, sitting with his legs folded on the large table nearest your desk, scribbling away.

His head perked up when he heard your chair wheeling over to him. "So, yours or mine?"

Spencer tried to ignore the way your arms folded over his knee to rest your chin atop them. "Uh- I was actually hoping yours?"

He definitely liked your place better than his. As much as he wanted to make it home, his apartment really was just a place for him to sleep at night and keep all of his stuff. Your apartment reminded him of you- but he wouldn't admit that that's the real reason he preferred your apartment to his.

You hummed. "Chinese?"

"Sounds good." Spencer was actually in a mood for Indian cuisine, but when you suggested Chinese it suddenly sounded like the best idea ever.

Work passed by fast, something that could rarely be said about Spencer's job. He was just excited to be going home, he told himself, even though he was headed to yours after this.

Although Spencer had to admit, your apartment was practically his. You both had a few items belonging to the other that you always forgot to take back. Spencer even had a travel toothbrush that sat in the cup on your sink. He knew where all your dishes were, knew your DVD collection by heart. He never lingered at the doorway like he might do at a new friend's place, he kicked his shoes off and made himself at home, because really, he was.

Tonight was no different. Spencer was sprawled out on your couch, half-empty foam box of chow mein sitting on the coffee table, and you under his arm. When you'd made yourself comfortable next to him, Spencer felt butterflies in his stomach, he thought. It was a marvel to him, hearing a phrase like that so often but not knowing what it really meant until now.

The time was nearing one in the morning, and while Spencer was still engrossed in whatever film you'd picked out this time, you were fast asleep, head heavy on his chest.

Spencer glanced over at you, smiling softly to himself.

"You know, you're not making this any easier for me." Spencer whispered, stroking your arm. "I mean, I'm not complaining, you know, but it's kind of hard to suppress a crush when you're falling asleep on me."

Spencer knew you couldn't hear him, which is why he felt a breath of relief leave him when the words came out. He attempted, with slow and careful movements, to adjust you to sleep on the couch. Spencer thanked whatever god might be out there that you'd purchased a sleep-worthy couch- he knew, he'd tested it personally.

"Good night," Spencer murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline and giving you one last glance from the doorway.

Maybe someday.

. . .

It was mornings like these that tested Spencer's willpower.

It had not even been six hours since he'd left your home that he was being called in on another case. So here he was. Five days later, doing the exact same thing: making two cups of coffee.

But as always, you made it better.

"Spencer!"

He didn't have to turn to know who was calling him, but he did anyways, just to look at you. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, I had a pretty nice pillow," you teased, and Spencer's ears turned red. "Hey, are you free Saturday?"

"Yeah, if Hotch doesn't call us in at the crack of dawn." Spencer snorts.

"Great. There's an art exhibit I wanted to see and it wouldn't be as boring if I went alone." You grinned, gratefully taking the mug he offered you.

"Can't imagine a better way to spend a Saturday." Spencer agreed.

"It's a date then."

Spencer's eyes went as wide as saucers at your response, mouth falling open a little. You giggled at his reaction.

"C'mon, Hotch is waiting." You turned, not waiting for a reply.

Spencer shook his head as if to clear it, a stupid grin plastered across his face as he trailed behind you.

It's a date.

~

[xomakara]

Body & Soul

SUMMARY | You just want to have sex with Johnny but Doyoung keeps interferring so you and Johnny try to convince Doyoung into having a threesome. PAIRINGS | Johnny/Fem!Reader/Doyoung GENRE | non-idol au, smut with no plot, unprotected sex, oral sex, threesome RATING | Mature LENGTH | 3,445 words AUTHOR’S NOTE | I honestly don’t know how this turned out lol. I’ve written mentions of threesomes and group sex, but tbh, this is the first time i’ve written an actual threesome scene. Hope it turned out okay hahaha. Plus, i’ve ran out of ideas for titles…

"Babe, what are you staring at?"

You couldn't help but stare and bite your bottom lip as you watched your boyfriend scratch his shoulder. Normally it wouldn't faze you but for some odd reason, Johnny decided to scratch his shoulder with his hands under his sweater, his bulging abs on display for all the world to see.

"Nothing," you stammered, "I was just... um... seeing if I could read anything."

He smiled at you and you blushed in embarrassment. It was no secret that Johnny loved showing off his body. He worked hard in the gym almost every day and after months of working out, he looked amazing. His perfect body turned heads wherever he went, and even girls were starting to pay attention to him. You weren't going to deny that it made you a tad bit jealous seeing all these girls ogle over him. But then again, who didn't get jealous watching their significant other be so sexy?

Johnny noticed you staring at his stomach and chuckled. "What? What is it babe?"

You stood up and slowly walked towards him, running your hands under his sweater. Your fingers ran along the smooth skin, which was turning hot from the friction. He leaned into you and nibbled on your earlobe before giving it a small bite.

"I don't know babe," you said, your voice husky from lust. "Why don't you show me exactly what I'm looking at?"

With that he stood up and grabbed you by the hand. In one swift motion he lifted you up onto the kitchen counter and positioned himself between your legs. He leaned his head down to kiss you and when you reached out to unbutton his jeans-

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" You heard a yell and broke the kiss. You turned to look at Doyoung, covering his eyes as he walked into the kitchen. "If ya'll are gonna fuck, then do it in your bedroom."

Johnny quickly buttoned his pants while you stared at Doyoung and let out an embarrassed laugh. "Ha, you caught us."

"You were home the whole time, Doyoung?" You muttered as you hopped off the counter.

"Yeah, I've been home for about an hour already." Doyoung rolled his eyes. "Now I know you two are always horny for each other but can't you two think about your poor roommate's eyes before you start fucking in our shared space?"

"Yeah yeah," Johnny sighed, leaning against the counter next to you. "We're sorry. Are you okay though?"

Doyoung nodded, rubbing at his temple. "Yeah, it's just been a long day at the office. My boss keeps giving me more work and I'm swamped. Luckily my team is pretty good but sometimes I feel like I'm drowning. So to make matters worse I came home to find you two about to screw each other in my face. Not cool."

You laughed and hugged Doyoung. "Well, we are sorry about that. I guess there isn't much we can do but apologize. So do you want something to eat or drink?"

"Ugh, can I just have water please?" Doyoung rubbed his temples again. "Also, give me a second to wash up and I will join you guys."

After Doyoung left the room, you and Johnny walked back into the living room. You sat down on the couch and he put a blanket around you, tucking it in around your shoulders.

"It's freezing in here," you groaned, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. "Why didn't you turn on the heater?"

"Hm, well..." He took a seat next to you and wrapped his arm around your waist. He rubbed your back gently, sending chills through your entire body. "...it's not quite cold enough for the heater yet."

You bit your lower lip as he leaned in closer, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

"Don't you ever stop teasing me," you whispered.

His hand moved up from your waist to caress your cheek. "Never."

As you turned your head to meet his lips, Doyoung walked into the room, shaking his head. "I fucking hate you two."

Johnny laughed. "You know you can always join us. I'm sure Y/N doesn't mind. Right, babe?"

You laughed and nudged him. "Yeah, Doyoung. I'm sure Johnny doesn't mind sharing me. Right?"

Johnny let out a loud roar of laughter.

"Wow," Doyoung said quietly, still shocked. "Are you two serious or just joking with me? Please tell me that you two aren't actually serious."

Johnny let out another booming laugh. "Well why would we joke about something like this?"

Doyoung groaned loudly and sat down on the floor. "I have a headache now."

You felt bad for Doyoung because he didn't deserve to deal with your crazy sex life. Ever since you started dating Johnny, you couldn't keep your hands off of him. Even when he had just woken up, you would touch his naked body, feeling his muscles ripple underneath your fingertips.

When he got dressed, you would watch him as he adjusted his clothes, checking his own body out. If you saw any signs of imperfection, you would immediately run your hands over them, making sure they were smooth and perfect. Then, when he finally arrived home from work, you two would make love for hours. Every time you woke up, you'd find yourself lying on top of Johnny, having no memory of how you got there. And every night, you would dream of being fucked by Johnny, only waking up in a puddle of sweat.

To say you were obsessed with your boyfriend wasn't even close to the truth. It was more like an addiction. Every single part of him called to you. From his luscious lips to his beautiful brown eyes. All you wanted was to spend your life with him. He was your world.

Doyoung sighed and rubbed at his forehead. "This conversation has officially gone too far. Just let me sleep. I need to clear my head."

"Of course, Doyoung-ah," you said softly, rubbing his arm. "You should go rest."

"Thank you," he replied, standing up. He stretched his arms over his head and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

After he left the room, you glanced over at Johnny. He gave you a seductive smile and placed a kiss on your forehead. "Sorry, babe. I can't help myself sometimes."

You laughed. "Me neither."

He laughed louder, throwing his head back. You giggled as you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around his chest.

"Do you really mean that? About you sharing me?" You asked softly.

"Only if it's Doyoung." Johnny kissed you. "Any other guy, I would never share you."

You kissed him back, pulling away. "I love you."

"Love you too," he replied, kissing you again.

The following day, you spent most of your time reading books. Doyoung came home early and asked if you wanted to grab lunch. Of course, you said yes. After he ate his sandwich, he mentioned that you hadn't been eating very much lately and was concerned about your health. You assured him that you were fine but that you were taking vitamins to ensure your health.

The two of you talked for hours until he suggested that you take a walk around the neighborhood. Once you both finished eating, you headed out, bundled up against the chilly weather. The breeze whipped around you and covered you in goosebumps. For the first time in a long time, you felt truly happy. Maybe you needed to stop reading so many books and spend more time outside enjoying nature.

When you returned home, Johnny was sitting on the couch, watching TV. You walked over and plopped down next to him, snuggling up against his side.

"How was your walk?" He asked.

"It was nice," you answered, closing your eyes. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all, babe."

"Thanks, Johnny," you said, resting your head on his chest. "You're the best."

A few moments later, Johnny began playing with your hair. You moaned softly as his fingers tickled the nape of your neck.

"Mmm, that feels nice," you said.

"Good," he responded, moving his hand down to cup your ass. "Your cute butt makes everything feel better."

You giggled and wrapped your arms around his waist. "Oh, you know it does."

You closed your eyes as he continued to play with your hair, lightly stroking it. You could hear the TV behind you but ignored it as he began lightly kissing your jawline.

His hand slid down your stomach, coming to a halt at the top of your thigh. Slowly, he dragged his fingers up and down, causing you to shiver with anticipation. Before long, he pushed his hand under your shirt and slowly slid it under your bra, tracing circles over your nipple. You sucked in a breath as your nipple hardened and the pressure grew stronger, begging for release.

You pulled away from Johnny, breaking the kiss. "Doyoung is in hi-"

"Don't worry, baby," he cut you off, kissing your lips once more. "Even though he cusses us out, it's not like he hasn't seen a pair of tits before. Trust me, he won't mind."

You opened your mouth to respond but then stopped yourself. Was Doyoung going to come in and catch you two having sex? Would he call you out on it? Would he freak out and storm out of the apartment? Or maybe he wouldn't even care. That's what you had hoped for anyway.

Without thinking, you pressed your lips to Johnny's, forcing your tongue into his mouth. His moan made you grin wickedly and yank his shirt up, freeing his bare chest. Your hands ran over his toned abs, feeling his hard muscle ripple beneath your fingertips. With each pass, your arousal increased, pulsing within your panties. Finally, you pressed your fingers against his pants, slowly opening them.

Before long, you found yourself working your fingers under his boxers, ready to pull his stiff dick out. But before you could, you heard the door open and froze.

"What the hell are you doing, Johnny?" Doyoung shouted, startling you. "And you, you better not be pulling his dick out of his pants."

"Damn it, Doyoung!" You whined. "Why do you have to be such a cockblocker? Can't I fuck my boyfriend in the comfort of my own home? I have needs!"

"I have needs too," Doyoung retorted.

"Then why don't you just join us Doyoung?" Johnny asked. "Wouldn't you rather have some pussy than not have any? Can't you see how Y/N is practically dying for it?"

"Please, Doyoung?" You whined. "I'm so fucking horny that I don't even care whose dick I get anymore."

Doyoung sighed loudly and stepped towards the two of you. He stared down at you for a moment, his gaze intense. "Fine. Go ahead and do whatever you want."

You bit your bottom lip as you reached for Doyoung's belt buckle. As soon as your fingers touched his skin, he grabbed your wrist. "Wait, Y/N."

"I've waited too long, Doyoung-ah," you replied. "Let me have my fun. At least let me have a taste."

Doyoung looked at Johnny. "Are you sure you want to share your girlfriend with me? You'll probably end up regretting it later."

Johnny let out a chuckle. "If I wasn't fine with it then I wouldn't have suggested you join us in the first place. So please, sit down, shut the fuck up, and let Y/N suck your dick."

With that, Doyoung sat down on the couch, glaring at the two of you. You smiled at him, unable to contain your excitement as you crawled towards him, pushing his legs apart. When you reached his lap, you unbuttoned his jeans, revealing his already hard dick. Your breath caught as you looked down at it, watching as it twitched slightly.

Doyoung placed his hand on your head and directed you to his throbbing member. As soon as you wrapped your lips around his shaft, he moaned. With one hand, he held your head, guiding you as you bobbed your head up and down, getting a feel for his size. His scent was intoxicating, sending a wave of desire through your body. Without thinking, you tightened your grip on his dick and began sucking harder.

Johnny watched as you sucked Doyoung off, unable to believe how sexy his girlfriend was. Every time she pulled her mouth off of his dick, her cheeks would puff out as if she was panting. The sight of her face covered in saliva was driving him wild, especially since he knew it would lead to something else.

When you started sucking him with more force, Johnny turned to Doyoung. "Does that feel good?" He whispered.

"Fuck yeah," Doyoung grunted, tightening his grip on the back of your head. "So damn hot."

You grinned and moved your head down his shaft, licking at his balls. They tasted salty but sweet at the same time. It was almost too much for him to handle. As his dick swelled further in your mouth, you took it as an opportunity to tease him. After taking his entire length into your mouth, you pulled your mouth off and began licking the tip, causing Doyoung to groan loudly.

"How do you like his dick, baby?" Johnny asked you, his voice deep and raspy.

"Tastes delicious," you answered, letting your tongue trace circles around his head.

"God, Y/N," Doyoung breathed, leaning back.

"Look at how fucking sexy you look sucking his dick. Are you gonna suck mine like this?" Johnny asked.

Before you could answer, you felt Johnny's hand wrap around your waist. He pushed down your shorts, exposing your soaked panties. You gasped and lifted your hips, allowing him to pull them down.

"You didn't think I'd forget about this, did you?" He asked, gently running his finger across your clit.

"No, Johnny," you whispered, raising your hips higher as his finger brushed against your sensitive bud.

"Finish sucking Doyoung off, baby." Johnny muttered, pressing his finger harder against your pussy.

In response, you wrapped your lips around Doyoung's shaft again, making sure to lick his balls along the way. When you started sucking harder, Doyoung groaned, trying to fight back his orgasm. Suddenly, Johnny leaned forward and licked your inner thigh, causing you to jump. You looked at him questioningly but he just grinned at you, knowing exactly what he was doing. He trailed his tongue up your leg, finally reaching your wet center.

"Oh fuck," you gasped, raising your hips to meet his tongue. Within seconds, he was attacking your clit, sucking on it as he swirled his tongue around it. You felt as if you were going to burst right there. Even though Doyoung was being pleasured by your talented mouth, you couldn't stop thinking about how big and hard Johnny's cock must be.

"Whose dick do you want first, Y/N?" Johnny asked, still licking at your pussy. "Doyoung's? Mine's?"

Suddenly, you felt Doyoung lean back, freeing his cock from your mouth. When you looked up at him, you saw him gazing intently at you. His brown eyes glittered and he ran his thumb over his mouth. You weren't quite sure what he meant but decided to take matters into your own hands. Standing up, you straddled Doyoung's lap, sliding his hard cock inside of you.

You groaned as Doyoung rubbed your thighs, causing you to bounce up and down on his lap. With every thrust, his dick filled you up more and more. He wasn't quite as big as Johnny but it felt great nonetheless.

Doyoung pulled out momentarily before moving your body to face Johnny. He slid you back unto his cock, hands at your waist, your breasts bouncing up and down. Johnny licked his lips as he watched you ride Doyoung, his eyes glued to your pretty face. From the corner of your eye, you could see Doyoung smiling at the sight of you enjoying yourself.

After undressing himself, Johnny held out his dick to you. Your heart skipped a beat when you realized that he wanted you to suck him while Doyoung was busy thrusting into you. "Come on, baby. I know you want to suck me off. Fuck, you look so hot riding his dick."

Without hesitating, you lowered your mouth to his erection, wrapping your lips around his shaft. Johnny groaned loudly as you sucked on his cock, relishing the sound of your lips sliding up and down his length. In response, he cupped your breasts, kneading your soft flesh.

As you felt his dick swell in your mouth, you became even more eager to please him. Soon enough, his member was swelling with blood, becoming harder than ever before. Johnny pushed your hair back and guided your head onto his dick, moaning softly as he slid deeper into your throat. His moans echoed in your ears, making you moan in response.

Doyoung was still thrusting into you, filling you with pleasure. But as he got closer to his climax, you became distracted by the cock in your mouth.

Johnny groaned, looking down at you. "This feels so fucking good. Just look at you sucking my dick."

At that moment, you decided to switch things up, sliding your hand between your legs. Within moments, you were cumming all over Doyoung's cock, squirting juice everywhere.

Doyoung suddenly let out a loud grunt as he came, filling your tight hole with his semen. A second later, Johnny began pumping his load into your mouth, giving you more to swallow than you thought possible.

Once they finished, Doyoung collapsed onto the couch, leaving you alone with Johnny. For a moment, you didn't know what to say or do, other than stare into his gorgeous hazel eyes. Slowly, your fingers trailed up his neck, tracing little circles against his jawline.

"Johnny, I need you now." You whispered, running your tongue over his earlobe.

He nodded, placing his hands on your ass, lifting you up onto his lap. His eyes were heavy with lust as he lined his dick up with your dripping wet pussy. "Doyoung wasn't enough? Do you want more?"

"More than anything," you replied. "You're the only one who can satisfy me right now."

Johnny smirked and slowly entered you, watching as you moaned. As his dick stretched you open, you instinctively reached down, grasping his ass. "Ahh, fuck yes," Johnny groaned. "You're so fucking tight."

You bit your lip, grinding your hips into his as he fucked you harder. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. "Make me cum, Johnny," you begged, tilting your hips upwards.

"Oh fuck," Johnny grunted, slamming into you. "Baby, did you like it when Doyoung fucked you? Did you love feeling him bury his dick inside of you?"

"Yes," you panted. "Fuck, I loved it."

"And you loved being fucked by me, right?" Johnny asked, grabbing both of your breasts, squeezing them roughly. "Did you like feeling me fill you with my dick? Tell me, Y/N."

Your reply was cut short as Johnny pounded into you faster, speeding up until he was fucking you relentlessly.

The next thing you knew, you were cumming yet again. Not only had Johnny filled you with his seed, but Doyoung had filled you with his. It was such an incredible feeling. When your orgasm subsided, you relaxed your hold on Johnny, bringing your head up to kiss him passionately. He moaned as he pressed his forehead against yours, gasping for air.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Johnny staring at you with a soft expression. He placed his hand on your cheek and brushed away a strand of hair that fell in front of your face. You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss.

"I love you, Y/N," he whispered.

A smile crept across your face as you looked down at him. "I love you, too."

Johnny pulled you close, kissing your nose. You snuggled into his chest, letting the weight of him rest on top of you. As he caressed your bare back, you felt contentment wash over you. This was home.

After awhile, after cuddling in each other's arms, you heard Doyoung get up from the couch. "You know...this was fun. If you need me, I'll be upstairs. Sleep well, guys."

"Goodnight, Doyoung," Johnny said.

Once he left the room, Johnny brought your hands up to his lips, kissing each one. "Are you ready for bed, Y/N?"

"Definitely."

That night, when you closed your eyes, you dreamt of nothing but the man in your arms.

[fatuismooches]

Hoyo drops a Neuvilette dragon-form ladle and expects me to move on just like that? Not a chance.

Okay. Dottore. And fragile!reader who takes a liking in ceramics.

The weakness caused by mysterious sickness got the reader unable to attend to their hobbies as often as they'd have wished to. However, there are days when they feel great and devote their time to their lover. And if Zandik happens to be busy - it's ceramics time!

At first, there were no noticeable changes and Dottore doesn't acknowledge the strange items. It must be Pantalone or Columbina sending prank gifts anyway. But as the time passes, more and more strange items start appearing...

First, it was a the salt and pepper shakers. Instead of normal, tube-like shakers, two one-eyed bird creatures sat on the table. Their shape wasn't completely smooth, some imperfections here and there. The dyes overlapped in some places as well. Dottore knew right away that this wasn't bought from the local market. Why the strange shape, too?

That's when he begins to notice more. There is a ladle that's base takes the shape of the raven head that Dottore carries around his shoulders as a fancy accessory? There are a couple of ceramic bowls and plates that have silly drawings of the segments? The fox-monster-creature with a basket in its paws that serves as a fruit storage?

Dottore is confused. But also amazed.

He will praise the reader how wonderful all of their creations are, even if he finds them a tad bit weird at times. He loves them, really! Zandik will make sure to encourage their beloved to not stop the hobby since it is also good for their health - distraction from illness is always a great thing!

Let's just say Pantalone's bewilderment was immeasurable when he received a report stating that Dottore requests a ton of highest quality clay.

THIS IS SO CUTE... You always had a good amount of hobbies before you got sick, but after the illness, you find that your strength is too sapped to do anything too strenuous. So instead you stick to hobbies that don't require much energy, like reading for example. But that doesn't mean you're just going to give up on your old hobbies! Thankfully you still have good days that you can set aside for ceramics!! You don't bother telling Dottore because you assumed he'd realize it's you once you start sending your creations to him! (You think it's funny that it took him this long to realize, who else would take out the time to give him gifts? Only his dear lover of course!)

Not only are the shakers strange looking and far from perfection, but it is an odd thing to give to the man who barely eats, and when he does, the food is made and seasoned exactly to his liking by you. At least the shakers work...? That's one thing, at least. He doesn't have much use for them, but for some odd reason, he tucks them somewhere in his drawers for safekeeping.

However, more odd things that he would never use end up finding his way on his desk along with the very strange designs. He knows it couldn't be a joke anymore because of the sheer number and time it must have taken to make these things, despite them not being the most professional. There's really only one person he knows who could have done this. One of the plates has a wide pointy grin with red eyes that he can instantly recognize as Beta (Webttore) despite its simpleness. He doesn't think he could ever eat off a plate with that but he is amused by your creations. And also impressed.

First, he's very glad to hear your hands are steady enough to create such things. That is good news! Secondly, seeing you so happy is good for everyone considering your illness often impacts your mental state. Thirdly, he's partially offended that the other segments knew about your hobby and not him, your actual husband. Still, as long as it keeps you distracted, he'll keep indulging it for as long as you'd like. Even when you continue to send him strange gifts that he'd never use, only admire. (Pantalone is confused but soon puts two and two together.)

Of course, no one comments on the segments using puffling shakers in order to keep their life. I need a Foxttore fruit basket desperately... (imagine putting apples in it as a joke for Dottore teehee... :3)

[lou-struck]

Obey Me Brothers and Datables x reader

Part 5 Finale and Solomon's Date Punishment

~Finally, after a day of Romance and Confusion, everyone gets together to tell you why they have been acting so odd today, But where is Solomon?

Series Masterlist

a/n: I know it took me awhile to get this done so thank you guys for interacting with this series. 

“You know why everyone’s been acting weird, don’t you?” you ask the Devildom Prince, knowing in your heart that you are finally getting some answers. He laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I do, but I think it would be best if you were to hear the truth from everyone.”

You turn your head to the side and feel rather confused by his wording. 

“Everyone?”

The Demon Lord raises his hand, and with a snap of his fingers, You are transported to his throne room. You are on the throne, still sitting comfortably in the Prince’s lap as the others begin to appear in front of you. Stepping through a multi-colored Layer of smoke. 

Lucifer is the first to wave the red tendrils away from his face as he greets his monarch. “Greetings, Diavolo; it appears you have begun to catch Mc up to speed about the incidents today.” You do not notice the way the Avatar of Pride’s brow twitches at the image of you on the Prince’s lap, but the others certainly do. 

Mammon, however, is a bit too greedy to hide his intentions as he gives you some serious puppy dog eyes. “Hey, human, come here. Let the great Mammon have a look at ya.”

“No, if anything, they should come to me,” Leviathan presses, looking enviously at the scene in front of him. “We still have time to go and get a milkshake at the introvert cafe.”

Bephie childishly crosses his arms. “We slept through our date, so I should get a redo.”

“That really sounds like a you problem, Belphie.” Asmo frowns crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I’m still hungry,” Beel muses, rubbing his stomach. A bit of chocolate is on the corner of his mouth, no doubt from your gift to him. “Mc, we should make more strawberries; feeding them to you this time would be fun.”

“Enough!” Lucifer scolds, silencing his brothers with a glare. “We are here to explain to Mc why most of you were acting so strange today.”

“I-it was still fun,” you say softly from the throne as the demons, and Angel look a tad ashamed of themselves. It hurts your heart to know that they feel like they let you down somehow. 

Today was wacky, romantic, and very special to you. And before they even begin their explanation, you know that there is no anger in your heart.

“How about you begin, Lucifer,” Barbatos says, coming to stand beside you on the throne. His gloved hand comes to rest on your shoulder, giving it a comforting little squeeze. 

“Yes,” The Prince says from behind you. “Since you were the first to figure everything out, it only makes sense you begin.”

Lucifer can’t hide the pride he feels from Diavolo’s compliment as he steps forward. Crimson eyes full of tenderness as he meets your gaze. Mc, I sincerely apologize on behalf of everyone for our strange behavior and paranoia today. We were under the impression that you were in danger after Solomon called a meeting with us this morning.”

“Danger?” you ask, eyes wide as you remember the paranoid look several of your dates were wearing throughout the afternoon.

“Solomon told us that a creature from the human world with little white wings and an enchanted bow filled with love-inducing arrows had set its sights on you and wanted to take you away from us.” He looks almost embarrassed to be telling you such a ridiculous story, but you listen politely, nodding along with him as he speaks. “I was skeptical at first. But when it comes to you, My Dear, we did not want to take any chances. Until you confirmed that Cupid was not real, I felt uneasy about having you leave the House of Lamination at all for the rest of your dates.”

“The same goes for me,” Satan adds, stepping forward to capture your attention. “Admittedly, we do not know much about the human world’s traditions, so when Solomon told us you were in danger, I tried to do some research about the Cupid but found next to nothing.” His green eyes look almost glassy as they look away from you in embarrassment. “I felt useless knowing that you could be taken away from us forever, and I didn’t know how to stop it, so I boarded up all the windows to my room and canceled the plans I had earlier for us.”

“Solomon was messing with us,” Mammon says softly, “I didn’t trust that shady Sorcerer, but then he started using his magic to trick us into thinking the flyin thingy was trying to get ya when we were on our way to the races.”

Simeon coughs politely to not interrupt anyone before they continue with their explanations. “I don’t mean to pry, but were any of you ever going to tell me that Mc was not in danger?” You can tell he is regretting his paranoid actions from earlier and you shoot him a soft smile. 

“We did,” Asmo chirps, looking at the gorgeous Angel. “You just never replied to the group chat.”

Simeon looks visibly confused as he pulls out his DDD, trying to find the aforementioned group chat. His brow furrows as he awkwardly taps on his screen looking increasingly more frustrated as he finds nothing. “I think my device is broken; I haven’t received any notifications all day.”

“Let me see that.” Levi huffs, snatching the DDD from the Angel’s hands and inspecting it carefully. He smiles and drags his fingers across the screen before handing it back to the Angel with a chuckle. “ROFL. You had it on airplane mode, so you weren’t getting any notifications.”

“But I haven’t been on any planes,” he says as dozens of notifications appear on the screen. “Ah, I see the messages now. I apologize for my interruption. Thank you, Leviathan, for your assistance.”

“Speaking of Solomon, where’s that little Rat?” Barbatos murmurs, pulling everyone’s attention briefly away from you as they look around looking for that shady jokester of a sorcerer. 

“Didn’t Asmo go get him earlier?” Mammon asks, crossing his arms. 

Diavolo laughs from behind you merrily. “He did indeed. I thought it would be amusing if I held off on bringing him here until after the explanation.”

He waves his hand, and a deep purple cloud of smoke cyclones in through the large doors, dropping a ruffled-looking Solomon on the floor rather roughly. 

Your eyes widen as you take in his disheveled appearance. His hair is ruffled, his mouth is gagged with a white cloth, and his hands are tied behind his back with some Fuzzy pink handcuffs that you can only assume to belong to Asmo. 

You get up from your spot, much to the disappointment of Diavolo, and go to check on your fellow human.

“Asmodeus, did you really have to secure him so thoroughly?” Lucifer sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

“I thought Mc would appreciate a bit of fanfare.” the Avatar of Lust winks. Solomon rolls his eyes at the theatrics as you gently remove the cloth from his mouth. 

“Fancy meeting you here, Mc,” the sorcerer smiles genuinely as you fiddle with the handcuffs, knowing that these ones have a release latch on the outside. “Have you had a good Valentine’s Day so far?”

You giggle and look fondly back at the Angel and Demons who have spoiled you rotten today. “I have. I wouldn’t trade this for the world.”

“I see,” he hums, gently scrubbing the tender marks on his wrist as the cuffs clatter to the ground. “It looks like I’ll just have to blow you away on our date tonight.”

“W-what?” Mammon stammers loudly. “Why does he get to have a date with Mc?”

Barbatos looks irritated as he nods along with Mammon. It’s a rare occurrence, but you understand. “After the stunt he just pulled, does he really deserve such a reward?”

The others begin to bicker amongst themselves as Diavolo sits silently in deep thought. It only takes a regal raise of his palm to silence the others as he looks at you with a twinkle in his eyes. 

“Mc, Although he has done nothing to deserve his time with you today. It seems unfair that you will not get to have your final date of the day.” he starts to say as the others look on in disbelief. “Therefore, I promise that you will still have your date with Solomon. I’ll have a car brought around to take you to the location, and Solomon will join you momentarily. We just need to have a word with him about his little transgressions…”

For the first time in your life, you see a look akin to fear in Solomon’s gaze as he looks around at the 10 immensely powerful beings he played a trick on. But before you can say anything to help him, you are ushered out of the room by Barbatos. 

His gloved hand is securely on the small of your back as he murmurs to you, “Do not worry Mc, I promise Solomon will arrive at the restaurant in one piece. We would never wish to disappoint you.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, hearing the sound of shuffling and yelling behind the closed doors. At least Solomon is untied and hopefully able to talk his way out of anything too drastic.

He kisses the back of your hand as the Prince’s limousine pulls up at the bottom of the palace steps. “I am certain.” he chuckles happily. “Solomon simply played a joke on us, and we will gladly return the favor. So please relax until then. We shall see you soon.”

“We?’ you ask as he guides you into the plush limo and waves you away with a charming smile, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a few absolutely gorgeous dinner outfits you can change into if you wish to do so.

~

Solomon ~

Candles flicker all around you as you watch couples enjoy their own romantic dinner dates at one of the finest restaurants in the entire devildom. You have only been waiting at your table at Ristorante Six for about twenty minutes or so as you wait for Solomon and whoever else to join you. 

After rushing around all day, you are thankful for the chance to reflect upon the day’s events. 

It has certainly been a wild ride so far, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

Being cared for, wooed, and doted upon by so many amazing individuals makes your heart feel so full, and you are thankful that they all seemed to appreciate the gifts you have prepared for them. 

It brings a smile to your face as you twirl the crystal flute of chocolate raspberry fizzy demonus in your hand and take a deep sip. Letting your eyes flutter shut as you savor the rich and fruity taste. 

You open your eyes when your eyes are assaulted by the sounds of several gasps of shock and amusement from the entrance of the restaurant. You are on high alert as you see the flashing of several DDD cameras.

Noisily, you lean forward in your seat, trying to get a glimpse of what is so amusing. You poke your head out more until you see what is catching all the attention, and you realize it is Solomon.

Sure, before the exchange program, the sight of a human in an upper-class demon establishment may have turned a few heads, but now, the real cause of this chaos is the snowy-haired sorcerer’s attire. 

He is wearing nothing but a diaper, fake white wings, and a quiver of plastic arrows on his back. His features are expressionless as he walks through the crowd looking for your table. You slowly raise a hand up to get his attention, and when he sees you, his face turns a deep pink color. 

“Well, don’t you look dressed for the occasion.” you giggle as he sinks into the chair. His little cheap wings lose a few feathers as they brush against the back of the chair. They fall to the floor silently as he tries to cover up his lap with one of the large cloth napkins. 

“I look ridiculous.” he murmurs, “I haven’t felt this embarrassed in at least thirty years.”

“I think you look cute,” you giggle, taking a roll of bread from the table’s bread basket. “I guess at the end of the day, you were right; there was a little Cupid trying to take me away.”

He laughs, the little wings flopping as his chest rumbles. “I have a feeling the others thought the same when they forced me into this thing.”

You laugh and look at him teasingly. “In a strange way, It kinda suits you.”

He grimaces as you laugh; in the corner of your eye, you notice a hostess leading a large party of familiar-looking individuals to the booth next to your table. 

You lock eyes with the Avatars of Sin, Prince of Hell, his royal butler, and a sweet smiling angel as they wave at you. DDDs at the ready to take photo after photo of Solomon in this rare moment of embarrassment. 

“You have a few fans over there.” you giggle, pointing back to the table.

He has the gall to look smug as he shoots a glance back at them before taking the hand of yours that he is holding from across the table and raising it to his lips. Taking the time to press a soft kiss to each one of your fingertips. 

They all look a bit jealous, especially Mammon, who removes a bottle of demonus from its bucket of ice and drinks deeply from the neck of the bottle. “They told me they would be watching over us. I guess this is what happens when you trick some of the most powerful beings in the three realms.”

“I like that we get to all be under the same roof.” you smile, directing your attention back to the sorcerer. “But I still get to spend some time with you.”

“I hope I didn’t ruin anything for you. I hadn’t thought about that part when I threw this whole thing together,” he admits. 

You feel touched by his sentiments as you reach across the table for his hand. “I promise you didn’t ruin anything. Today was so much fun, even with the occasional Cupid-related freakout.” you reach for your bag only to realize that you had left it in the car earlier. 

“What is it?” he asks, looking at your worried features.

“I just left my gift for you in the car.” you huff, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he laughs, “I left yours in the Lab after Asmodeus kidnapped me earlier. But is there anything I can do to make it up for you now?”

You smile almost devilishly as you reach for your DDD. “There is one thing you could do for me.”

“What is it?” he asks, knowing exactly what you are about to ask for. 

Ou swipe to your camera and show him the screen. “Could I get a picture with my little cupid?”

He sighs and removes the napkin from his lap. “How many do you need?”

You stand up and give him the sweetest smile you can. “We’ll just have to see. I’m sure there are others who will want a picture with you as well.” You look over at the booth and see that they are already lining up to take a picture with Solomon; The Cupid who just couldn’t stay away.

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