#so yeah that's what goes through your head

[blastiebabe]

hell yeah, you are spoiled

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader

You place your phone somewhere Katsuki cannot notice, and in an angle enough to be able to see most of the space in the bedroom you share with him.

You press record and come back to sitting in front of your vanity table to continue getting ready for your date night. You have seen this TikTok video and was inspired by it to put your phone on record to test how easily your boyfriend can be enraged for you.

Katsuki comes into your shared bedroom wearing only trouser pants that fits perfectly in his waist and accentuate his hips. Seeing him through your mirror, you can't help but realize how beautiful your boyfriend is. Katsuki heads to the closet looking for a shirt to wear.

"Love, what color are you wearing?" He asks as he look at his clothes on the rack.

You came back to your senses when you heard him speak, you have been so mesmerized by his beauty you almost forgot you were shooting.

"A black dress." You replied, looking at his direction. "Why?"

Katsuki looks back at you. "Just askin'." He says as he brings out a black polo and proceeds to sit on the bed.

You smirk at his response. "You wanna match colors with me or somethin'?" You tease him.

"Nah uh." You watch his condescending expression from his reflection on the mirror, his tone with an attitude while simultaneously having red ears. If you aren't planning anything, you weren't gonna let that slide, but since you are, you'll prioritize that.

You laugh at him and continued your make up, trying to find the right time to throw him the reason you started recording. He laid on the bed scrolling on his phone while waiting for you.

A minute passed, and you decided to finally tell him. "Love..." Katsuki immediately darted his eyes straight at you, waiting for the next thing you'll say.

"I have something I need to tell you but promise you won't be mad, okay?" You say calmly, acting yourself the hell out.

Katsuki immediately changed his position and sits up straight, eyes locked at you with a hint of worry in his face. "I ain't making any promises. What is it?"

You turn your back on the mirror and faced your boyfriend who has now a visibly worried face. You look at the floor and started playing with your fingers, making him worry more.

He stands up and sits on the edge of the bed in front of you. He is now near you and looking straight at you while you continue to look at the floor. "Princess, come on, you can tell me..."

"Well, I... I have read some comments on your social media page..." You look at Katsuki before you, you feel a hint of guilt when you saw how genuine his concern is. But you needed to continue.

"Mm hmm. And then?" He asks calmly.

"And... and some of your fans have left comments on the pictures you have uploaded of me."

"The hell did they say?" Katsuki asks now with a hint of irritation from his voice. This is going well. You thought.

"They said I am super spoiled." You say as sad as your acting can be.

You can clearly see the shift in Katsuki's eyes as you have muttered the last word, and his annoyance suddenly became a repressed laughter. He snorts as he covers his mouth.

You face him offended. Did he just laugh because other people called you spoiled? What the fuck?

Before you can even tell him off, he stands up, grabs his polo and started wearing it. "Love, you are spoiled." He says emphasizing on it.

"Katsuki, what the actual fuck?" You say having a hard time to process what he is saying.

He was about to button his polo when he suddenly sees you look so disappointed to what he just said. He clearly isn't making himself clear. He goes in front you, his right knee touching the floor as he looks straight into your eyes.

"My love, you honestly better be spoiled. Because I do spoil you, don't I?" Katsuki reaches for your hands. "So, hell yeah, you are spoiled. Because you are my princess and you deserve to get everything you want."

You can literally feel your annoyance slowly fading out. How can this man be so damn mean and sweet at the same fucking time?

Katsuki continues, "I know you spoil yourself even before we started dating, so it is my job to spoil you better than you spoil yourself." You can straight up see how genuine his words are through his eyes.

"And if I may I remind you, I am more than willing to spoil you 'til the ends of the Earth if it means I get to make you be happiest you've ever been." The man before you explain as he cups your cheek with his hand.

This conversation has turned into a completely different route from what you had expected. You had expected him to be furious about the comments, to be protective to not let other people talk like that about you. But turns out Katsuki has his own way to make you feel so damn good. This. This is the reason why Katsuki is different from all the other damned extras.

You can literally feel tears forming in your eyeballs. You cup both his cheeks with your hands, knowing anytime the damned tears might just fall. "You know I love you so damn much, right?"

You feel his smile in the palm of your hands. "Of course I do, my love." As soon as these words depart from his lips, you took the opportunity to have your lips met his.

Using your tongue to explain and make him remember how much you love him, and all the other things you feel for him that can never be explained by words alone.

Your hands travel on the nape of his neck bringing him closer to you as you deepen the kiss. You feel his hands at the small of your back as he let you lead.

When your lips parted, both of you are catching for your breath. You stare at Katsuki's mesmerizing face before you with his eyes glistening. "Now that was a perfect example of how you spoil me."

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ thank u for reading! :>> . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ༶•┈ by yel0ngkape ┈•༶ i accept requests, so feel free to reach out! ♡

[kateschi]

explosions in the curtain aisle

synopsis: you and katsuki (after much convincing) are out to buy decorations for your home.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

after spending months merging your lives together as a married couple, you and katsuki are finally taking the plunge to decorate your shared home.

excitement bubbles within you as you navigate the aisles, envisioning how each piece could reflect both of your personalities.

“y/n, how long are we gonna be here?” katsuki complains, arms crossed, his usual fiery demeanor dialed down to a low simmer.

he’s standing a few paces behind you, his foot tapping impatiently on the polished wooden floor.

you turn to him with a playful grin. “just a little longer! we need to find the perfect throw pillow. this is important!”

“important?!” he echoes, incredulity lacing his tone. “they all look the damn same! can’t we just grab one and go? it’s a pillow, not a weapon!”

you laugh, enjoying the banter. “but it has to match the couch! you know how colors work.” you gesture toward a vibrant array of pillows, each one seeming to call your name.

katsuki’s eyes narrow, glancing at the colorful display as if it’s the most boring thing he’s ever seen. “you’re the one with the weird taste in colors. I’m just saying, if it’s ugly, I’m throwing it out the window.”

“fine,” you tease, “but if you pick it out, you have to live with it.”

he huffs, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “whatever. just make it quick, or I’m heading to the snack aisle.”

you roll your eyes, knowing that katsuki can be both impatient and stubborn, but you also understand that this shopping trip means more than just picking out a few decorative items.

it’s about creating a home together, a place filled with memories and laughter, and every detail matters.

after a few more minutes of searching, you finally spot a pillow that catches your eye—a rich teal with a textured pattern that perfectly complements your couch.

you pick it up, turning it this way and that, feeling a surge of happiness. “katsuki, look at this one!”

he strides over, feigning disinterest but unable to hide his curiosity. “let me see.” he takes it from your hands, inspecting it with a critical eye. “not bad, I guess.”

you can’t help but beam at his praise, even if it’s gruff. “you really think so?”

“yeah, but if it clashes with my stuff, it’s going in the trash,” he warns, a smirk creeping onto his face.

“promise!” you laugh, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “I’ll make sure it fits your ‘tough guy’ aesthetic.”

“good,” he replies, but there’s a hint of warmth in his tone. he places the pillow back in your hands and turns to walk away, already scanning for the next item on your list. “now, what’s next? we need some curtains or something.”

you can’t help but feel a rush of affection for him. it’s moments like these—when he pretends to be annoyed yet goes along with your whims—that remind you just how much he cares.

“how about we find some that are a bit more… cozy?” you suggest, your eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

he snorts, shaking his head. “cozy? what are we, grandmas?”

you roll your eyes, laughing softly. “just wait until you see them. you might actually like them!”

katsuki raises an eyebrow. “yeah, right. but I guess I’ll humor you. lead the way.”

you guide him to the next aisle, the soft rustle of fabric creating a comforting ambiance.

you sift through various curtain styles, holding up a set that features a delicate floral pattern. “what do you think about these?”

katsuki glances at them, his expression unreadable. “they’re… fine, I guess. but are they durable? I’m not having some flimsy stuff that’ll tear the first time I brush against it.”

you chuckle at his practicality, appreciating that he wants your home to feel strong and safe, just like him. “they’re made of durable material. plus, they’ll let in a lot of light.”

he tilts his head, still unsure.

you laugh again. “we can always return them if they don’t work out. and just think of how nice they’ll look with the pillow!”

he pretends to consider it seriously, squinting at the curtains as if they hold the key to world peace. “fine, fine. let’s get them.” he then turns to you with a quick glance, “you will not hang them.”

“oh, I don’t mind,” you giggle, as you lean in closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “you will look so good hanging them up in your ‘tough guy’ way, husband.”

katsuki’s lips twitch, and for a moment, you think you can see the tip of his ears turn a soft shade of pink. “shut up,” he mumbles, though there’s no real irritation behind his words.

with the curtains selected and the throw pillow secured, you both meander through the store, stopping occasionally to admire various decorative pieces.

you find a small potted plant and hold it up, grinning. “what about this? it’ll add some life to the space.”

katsuki raises an eyebrow, eyeing the plant. “you think you can keep it alive? remember that one time with that cactus?”

you wince at the memory, laughing sheepishly. “okay, I admit I’m not great with plants. but this one seems low-maintenance!”

“yeah, sure, but if it dies, I’m blaming you.”

“I’ll take full responsibility!” you promise, huffing. you don’t see your husband’s eyes lookting at you with subtle fondness, while you place the potted plant into the cart.

finally, as you reach the checkout, you feel a sense of accomplishment.

katsuki stands beside you, the small plant in hand while you juggle the curtains and pillow. “not bad for a day’s work,” you say, looking up at him.

he nods, a satisfied grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “yeah, I guess it’s alright.”

as you both head outside, katsuki glances at the bags in your hands, then turns to you, takes the bags, his expression softening in that rare way that only you ever get to see.

“let’s get outta here,” he mutters, running his empty hand hand through his hair. “this shopping crap’s a waste of time.”

you laugh, slipping your hand into his. “you did great, hubby.”

he grumbles, but despite that, he doesn’t let go of your hand, his grip tightening just slightly as you walk together out of the store.

you can’t help but smile at the simple gesture, so you squeeze his hand lightly.

as you approach the car, katsuki pauses, turning to you. “hey,” he starts, looking a bit bashful. “you really love this stuff, don’t you?”

“of course! it’s our home, after all,” you reply.

“then… I guess it’s worth it,” he mutters, scratching the back of his head. “just don’t make me do this every weekend.”

you chuckle, squeezing his hand. “no promises, but I’ll make sure to keep it interesting.”

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[ablobwhowrites]

So I was reading your poppy playtime new home sweet home post and I saw the one that told of the robber(s) breaking into y/n house and getting killed and I was maybe wondering if you could make that into a full story with all the toys ganging up on the robbers and they do this all as y/n sleeps peacefully in the next room over

Please and thank you

(I got you. Hopefully I cooked with this fic also for this fic, this happened before the doctor came to live at the house. Also cause in game that catnap can transform his appearance then he can totally turn into his small for and I like to think all the smiling critters can do that but mostly are in their big form like how dogday is when we met him but yeah.)

The night was quiet, everyone slept peacefully in the house as the moon stood high in the sky with the stars. Y/n curled up in their bed as yarnaby somehow was able to fit on the bed with y/n as the smiling critters slept in the living room multiple blankets and pillows on the ground to make it more comfortable with sleeping bags as they all pilled with each other in craftycorn's and hoppy hopscotch's pillow fort. The other toys sleeping in bedrooms that y/n helped them settle into for a actual good night rest but one was up and about, quietly walking around the house in their smaller plush form to be more quiet, that was catnap, slowly creeping through the second floor making one last night patrol before joining the other smiling critters in the pillowfort for the night.

His ear suddenly shifts hearing noise down stairs, he silently descended down the stairs to the main floor. The sound of something picking, small clicking and quiet jiggling of something metal until he found the source of the sound. The front door opened quietly as the quiet creaking of the door, catnap went to hide and see who will was coming in. Two people in black clothes and masks can in as they looked around "alright let's just take as much as we can. Next time don't drop a fucking vase, that's what almost got us caught." One of the masked men said to the second one slightly annoyed.

Catnap thinks of ways to kill to dispose of these people, he quickly race up stairs as the two men where in the kitchen trying to find any valuables. He stopped suddenly as a door upstairs opened as mommy long legs woke up groggy from the noise from down stairs woke her up. Being in the silence factory has made her a very light sleeper especially when it's this quiet in the house. "Catnap?...what are you doing up so late?" She yawned as then hearing the a slight aloud clank of something metal coming from down stairs, mommy long legs goes quiet as she quietly walked to the stairs and stretched her neck to be able to see what could be making that noise.

One of the robbers quietly cussed under their breath as they look around to make sure no one heard the sound, not noticing mommy long legs head in the shadows watching them with their every move. She retracted her head back and sighed "the one night i try to get some sleep. Catnap may you please go fetch huggy wuggy and yarnaby for me? I'll make sure they stay where they are in the mean time" she said slightly annoyed and tired but trying to keep a sweet demeanor as catnap went to get the two toys. The robber looking in basement for anything valuable and a good escape route but hearing the door of the basement close as they sighed annoyed "Clyde! Come on man, I told you I'll be checking here, why aren't you checking the living room?" The masked person said thinking it's their partner until the light turns on. "Dude! Turn off that light! Do you wanna wake up the house?" They whisper shouted to their partner.

Creaking of the stairs descending down to the basement floor had the robber a bit worried. "Clyde? Why are you just being quiet? What are you mad at what I said?" But no response, until the light from the one light bulb in goes out and a growl rumbled against the walls, The masked person tried to grab their flashlight to see what was down here with them. "Come on work you stupid flashlight" they said panicked, shaking and lightly hitting the flashlight until it finally flickered on into the face of yarnaby. Slowly opening his mouth as the light shined into the yarnaby's mouth, then he lunged and snapped on the robbers arm and thrashing the person violently as the screams of pain echoed through the walls. Ripping the person's arm off and eating it up as pinning the robber down to the ground as only one will being walking out of this basement alive.

The other robber, Clyde walked into the kitchen as he tried to look for his friend. "Francis? Come out, we gotta go. We got plenty of stuff, this place is giving me the creeps for some reason" Clyde whispered slightly loudly as no response and he sighed. "Great he's probably on the attic or something" Clyde said as he looked at his watch that said 12:50 PM until it shuts off as he forgot to charge it and he sighed annoyed even more now. The sound of something walking closer to Clyde from behind as he quietly groaned "Are we finally done? What took you so lo-..." He froze as seeing huggy wuggy blue fur from the shadows coming uncomfortably close to Clyde "Francis is this some stupid prank then I'm not falling for it, I know your behind this huggy wuggy plushy" Clyde slightly pushed huggy to the side and saw no one behind huggy. "Wait...then how are you moving?" Clyde said in fear as he tried to run but huggy grabbed him as Clyde was about to scream as then huggy opened his mouth, rows and rows of teeth latched onto Clyde head as huggy then bit off the man's head the muffled screams stopped as huggy let go of the man's body and let it drop to the ground with a muffled thud from the carpeted floor.

Mommy long legs checked in y/n's room to see if they where asleep and luckily they slept through the ordeal. It's just the clean up to deal with now. The basement was a mess, the robber who was named Francis was torn apart by yarnaby, and it was easy to clean up because of the concrete and not having to scrub a rug until the red finally comes out and before having to deal with the body's of the robbers and mommy had the other toys help with the clean up as well. Yarnaby ended up getting to them first and much to mommy long legs dismay it does deal with at least deposing the evidence. But yarnaby was then forced to get a bath to clean off the blood, which was a struggle and had dog day wash yarnabys face and mommy long legs to wash yarnabys fur (can the yarn on him be counting as fur?) but y/n woke up early and their alarm rang as it was 8:00 AM. The toys panic and Doey, Bobby bear hug and bunzo tried to stall y/n as long as possible but huggy still had blood on him luckily only from his mouth but still was messy but y/n was able to get down stairs still.

Y/n stopped in their tracks as they looked at huggy "oh huggy what happened?!" That made the rest of the toys hearts drop and they all rushed over to maybe explain but stopped as huggy had bit open into a jug of cranberry juice and held it to him and disguised the blood. "Don't worry I'll clean it up later, let me run you a bath. Hopefully it doesn't stain." Y/n said as they yawned still a bit groggy from waking up. Mommy long legs sighed in relief, "We take this to the grave." mommy said as the other toys agreed.

(hopefully this was a good fic, I'm trying to get back into fics and hopefully I cooked with this one! And if you want more please don't feel shy and request any ideas or anything. But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

Megumi sighed shaking his head at this, even if he didn't want anything happening to him. Or worse; if she finds out. Though, it seems he said his answer.

"Um....well...Todo-san." Kisho goes to give him a nervous smile, "The type of woman I want to go for...is um." God..why does he feel that he is going to get beat up?

Fuck. He is going to crack.

"Someone that I truly cherish from the top and bottom of my heart. Because..." He shuts his eyes tightly. "I want someone who is kind, brave even if they aren't brave but pushes through, someone is strong but is okay with me protecting her, and um....someone I want to go on adventures with. So yeah...that's my type."

He said it.

Now it's up to Todo. He thinks of his answer yet he was thinking of the other one from before. How his arms remain crossed that he was thinking towards it.

What was his answer to this one?

"That......was...." that's when he grabs Kisho and started shaking him.

"A NORMAL ANSWER!? I THOUGHT THIS GIRL YOU WANTED WAS YOUR TRUE QUEEN OR PRINCESS!? WHAT SORT OF ANSWER IS THAT!?" He said now shaking him.

"TODO, NO!!" Megumi said trying to stop him while Hana sweatdrops.

"A WOMAN OF YOUR LOVE SHOULD BE ALWAYS FIRST! YOUR QUEEN! YOUR GODDESS! DO YOU EVEN LIKE THIS GIRL!? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?!? DX" he shouted.

~~AT the girls dorm building~~

The girls from the dorms heard.

"What was that?" Nobara asked seeing Miwa and Yuria sweatdrops. However, Miwa knew. "oh no...seems like Todo was asking that question again and didn't like the answer.." she said shaking her head.

"Hey Yuria? Wasn't Miko out shopping today to get some snacks for everyone?" Nobara was sweatdropping but Yuria blinks only for her to widen her eyes.

"Uh oh..."

Megumi gives a 'Yes he's serious just go with it' look hoping that Todo don't do anything because of the badger finds out, she would lose it herself. He didn't need another added to that list. It's bad enough Kinie and Sukuna lose it!

Todo waited for his answer with arms crossed.

"Well…I like black…raven-head, beautiful smile, fair skin, and uh? Amazing eyes that I want to look at for a long time! Skin that is vibrant that I can't look away." He begins. "Soft, warm, and uh…" He gulps a little as Eito is now perching on the railing.

"Hmmmmmm..." He was listening to this but keeps his eyes focused on Kisho. "Yes? Anything else?" Todo said.

"And uh…."

"Come on friend. You must have something else to add to this. You have to finish your answer!" Todo said.

"Is this really needed Todo-"

"YES! THE LAST ANSWER WAS SOMETHING I DIDN'T LIKE SO HIS OTHER ANSWER SHOULD BE GOOD!!"

[casdeans-pie]

The ending credits of Jurassic Park roll up the screen, accompanied with the iconic theme music, and Dean presses pause. It bothers him that the whole running away from murderous creatures with sharp teeth thing got to him so much - this used to be a movie he loved. Now he just feels kind of... weird.

"Sometimes I still think I'm gonna see the slashes from the hellhounds," Dean confesses quietly, touching a hand to his stomach. "Is that weird?"

Cas shakes his head slowly. "Not at all. I imagine it must have been a highly traumatic experience. It's not surprising it left scars." His expression softens. "Though I am glad I could remove the physical scars when I rebuilt your body."

"You and me both, buddy." Dean reaches over the gap between their chairs and claps a hand on Cas's shoulder. He rests it there for longer than he intends to, before he pulls it back slowly. He should say something to change the subject, but instead he hesitates and finally says, even quieter than before, "I wish I could take your scars away too."

"I don't... have any scars," Cas says, eyebrows furrowed. "I've healed all of my injuries."

"On your body, yeah. But I mean" - Dean gestures broadly at the space behind Cas's shoulders - "on the rest of you."

Cas's whole body goes still. It looks like he even stops breathing. "You can..."

"Yeah."

Cas closes his eyes as if in pain. "How long..."

"Let's just say it's been a long time."

"I see. I'm sorry you have to see that."

"Dude- what the- what are you sorry for? You're the one walking around with all those- the cracks and the bits missing in those wheels, that smashed up halo- that shit looks like it hurt!"

"It did," Cas agrees, a hitch in his voice. "But it was all worth it to be here with you now." He finally opens his eyes and tilts his head. "You're not scared?"

Dean can feel warmth spreading like syrup through his body, strongest in his chest. "Of you? Cas. C'mon. I haven't been scared of you since you spoke to me after Samhain," he says, a grin pulling up at his lips.

"Not of me," Cas says sheepishly, "of... that."

"That," Dean says in a low imitating rumble, "is you." He gets up from his chair, kneels at Cas's feet, and reaches up to where he can see one of the many ghostly broken wheels spinning. He can see his hand touching where the golden wheel is, but he can't feel anything.

Cas makes a small noise at the back of his throat.

"If I could, I'd heal your scars like you did to mine," Dean says.

[sugarwarachan]

roll the dice - ft. sero hanta

pairing: sero hanta x roommate!reader

summary: It's Valentine's Day and Sero does his best to keep his horny thoughts to himself. He doesn't succeed.

cws: smut mdni, face sitting, sero hanta is a pussy-eating KING, dirty talk

based on this prompt list

"Wow," Sero whistles, while you teeter on one heel and hop into the other. That dress hugs every inch of you. "Someone’s lookin’ good. Hot date?"

You laugh, and fuck, he’s such an idiot, because the sound travels straight to his dick. He adjusts himself as subtly as he can and goes back to cooking dinner.

"Something like that.” You swipe on lip gloss in the hallway mirror. "He’s a coworker. I might have mentioned him?"

You’ve mentioned him 17 times. Not like Sero’s counting.

"Make sure he treats you right," is all he says instead, doing his best to ignore the cute little blush tearing across your face as you duck out the door.

Alone on Valentine’s Day, he thinks ruefully, settling his long frame on the couch. Alone on Valentine’s Day with a raging hot case of let-me-fuck-you-right-now for his roommate.

He should have turned down being your roommate the minute he saw you on Denki’s phone. If he had, he wouldn’t be this jealous of some random shithead taking you out for Valentine’s Day.

He considers texting Denki just to have someone to commiserate with, but the guy is probably doing his best to woo Jiro and doesn’t need the distraction.

He sparks up a joint and turns on 13 Going on 30 (so he’s a rom-com guy, sue him), trying not to think about how much better this night would be if you were here.

The door clicks a half hour later, followed by the rap of your heels on the ground. You trudge into the room and slump on the couch right next to him.

“He didn’t even show up,” you whisper into the side of his neck, wrapping your arms around him. He feels a few tears hit his collarbone.

Sero Hanta considers himself a pretty even-keeled type of guy, but wanting to punch this dick’s lights' outs shoots to the top of his to-do list.

“Oh honey, what a fuckin’ dickhole.” His hands tighten on your waist. “Doesn’t deserve someone like you, anyway.”

He probably shouldn’t say that, not when he’s rubbing circles on your hip through the material of your dress, the scorching heat of your body against his impossible to ignore. But he's been thinking it for months now, all of his own attempts at dating tossed to the wayside when he realized he just preferred coming home to you.

“No?” You pull away and delicately wipe away unshed tears. He doesn't know why he finds it so cute, this innate desire to preserve what's left of your mascara. “Who does deserve me, Hanta?”

You grab the joint and drag and his mind goes fuzzy. You’ve never outright called him on it like this before.

“Maybe I do angel, ya ever think of that?”

“Yeah?” There’s that megawatt smile of yours, kicking him in the teeth. “You think of me like that, too?”

It’s new territory for the both of you, admitting to the attraction that Sero realizes has been simmering for weeks.

“Yeah. I think of you all the time.” He cups your face and cocks his head. "We doin' this? You gonna let me show you how I'd treat ya on Valentine's Day?"

You roll your eyes at him affectionately. "Cheesy bastard."

He cuts off your laugh with the press of his mouth.

Sero's not normally one to wax poetic, but something about the way your body instantly sinks into his makes his heart lurch. You kiss him like you've been spending your whole life studying how to do it, and it drives him absolutely insane.

"Knew we'd be good together," he says, grinding the curve of his cock into the cleft between your thighs. "Feel how hard I already am, baby? Just from one little kiss."

You groan into his mouth and start pawing at his clothes.

"I know, I know, want you naked too. Don't fuckin' pout, I think you'll like the idea." He repositions the two of you with him lying down on the couch, you straddling his hips. "Remember when you said you've never sat on a guy's face?"

Your eyes darken with excitement. "I remember."

"What if we change that?" He strokes his thumb under the band of your dress, shimmying it over your hips. The pretty red lace covering your pussy makes his breath catch. "Because you know what's gonna happen if we don't?"

He traces the folds of your pussy through your underwear with the pads of his fingers.

"I'm gonna get inside this perfect fuckin' pussy and embarrass myself. Probably come after two pumps like an idiot because she's just so fucking sweet." He pulls your panties down and drags you up to his face. He catches the little whine of insecurity in your throat at the position.

Your pussy is swollen and begging for attention, arousal clinging to your lips like dew.

"Take a fuckin’ seat, baby, ya think I’ve never done this before?"

He molds his hands around the meat of your hips and thighs, and then Sero feasts, sucking and grinding his chin and nose and tongue up into your cunt. You wail and fall forward, holding yourself steady on the arm of the couch. He doesn't care if he has to hold you up himself; he's in heaven between your thighs, the taste and scent of you all he can fucking think about.

You cum quickly, gasping and shuddering above him as he drinks down your orgasm like fucking water.

"Felt good, didn't it?" he prods, biting your inner thigh and soothing it with a kiss. Your shaky nod makes him grin.

Sero sits backs up with you in his lap, wiping the back of his mouth with a forearm and licking at his lips like a dog. He hopes he smells like you for hours.

Black streaks of mascara run under your lashes. He swipes them away with the back of his thumb. "Sorry honey. You worked hard on this makeup, huh? And I'm just making you cry it off."

It's your turn to cut him off with a kiss.

ahhhhh i've written for him ONCE i hope i did him justice

[ariahmichelle]

Fake It Till You Feel it - Part 1

Rafe Cameron x Reader Series

Series Masterlist Here

Summary- You see your ex with a new girl wrapped around him after he told you “wasn’t ready for a relationship” after you had slowly started to fall for him. The betrayal stings. Rafe Cameron is dealing with his own issue—Amelia, a girl who refuses to take the hint that he’s not interested. One night you impulsively pretend to be Rafe’s girlfriend to get her to back off. To your surprise, it works. You also notice Alex looking pissed. This starts to become an unspoken routine between you when either Alex or Amelia are around. Simple right? However, longer this goes on, the more the lines blur between what’s real and what’s not.

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Part 1- The Beginning of a Game

The party at Topper’s house was in full swing. The air was thick with the scent of salt, sweat, and the faint smokiness of a bonfire burning somewhere in the distance. Music pulsed through the backyard, blending with the sound of drunken laughter and the occasional splash from someone jumping into the pool. It was one of those nights that felt endless, where the heat of the summer clung to your skin and time blurred between drinks and conversations.

And yet, despite the crowd, despite the energy, you felt frozen in place.

Your stomach twisted as your eyes locked onto the scene in front of you. Alex. With someone new.

He sat on the outdoor couch, drink in hand, his head tipped back in laughter at something the girl beside him had said. She was pretty—of course she was. Long sun-kissed legs, a perfectly put-together outfit that screamed effortless, and a confidence that made it obvious she had no doubts about where she stood with him. Unlike you. Unlike the way you had felt when you were with him—always wondering if you were reading too much into things, if his sweet words meant something more, if the way he looked at you held the same depth as the way you looked at him.

Turns out, it hadn’t.

Because when you’d finally worked up the courage to ask where you stood, to ask if he wanted more, Alex had fed you the same tired line you’d heard before: I’m not ready for a relationship.

And yet, here he was. Looking very ready.

Your grip tightened around the plastic cup in your hand, the cheap liquor inside suddenly making your stomach churn. It wasn’t that you wanted him back—you didn’t. But seeing him move on so easily, so carelessly, like what you had meant nothing… it stung. Worse than you wanted to admit.

You tore your gaze away, exhaling sharply, forcing yourself to shake it off. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten to you. You were better than that.

“You look like you’re about two seconds away from throwing that drink at someone’s head.”

The familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned to find Rafe Cameron standing beside you, his usual cocky smirk in place. He was nursing a beer, looking effortlessly relaxed in a white button-down left undone just enough to hint at a tan and toned chest. His hair was slightly tousled, like he’d run his fingers through it one too many times, and his blue eyes flickered with amusement as he studied you.

You rolled your eyes, attempting to play it off. “Just enjoying the party.”

“Yeah?” Rafe took a sip of his beer, raising an eyebrow. “Because you look like you’re mentally plotting someone’s downfall.”

You scoffed. “If I was, you’d be the first to know.”

“Good to know,” he mused, tilting his head as he followed your previous line of sight. It didn’t take him long to spot Alex, and when he did, something in his expression shifted—just a flicker of understanding before the smirk returned. “Ah. Got it.”

You crossed your arms, defensive. “There’s nothing to get.”

“Sure.” Rafe dragged the word out, clearly not buying it.

You huffed, looking away. The last thing you wanted was to talk about Alex with Rafe Cameron, of all people. You and Rafe had always been… something between friends and playful antagonists. He was cocky, irritating, and had a habit of pushing your buttons just to see how far he could go. But he was also fun. Easy to talk to when he wanted to be. And right now, his presence was a distraction you desperately needed.

But before you could steer the conversation elsewhere, an all-too-familiar voice cut through the air like nails on a chalkboard.

“Raaaafe!”

You didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was.

Amelia.

The girl had been attached to Rafe like a leech ever since they’d hooked up at a party months ago. And despite Rafe making it clear he wasn’t interested in anything more, Amelia refused to take the hint. She always found a way to be near him, touching his arm, laughing too loudly at his jokes, batting her lashes in a way that might have been charming if it weren’t so painfully desperate.

Sure enough, when you glanced over, Amelia was already making her way toward Rafe, her blonde curls bouncing, her expression expectant.

Rafe let out a quiet groan, running a hand over his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You smirked. “Looks like she found you.”

“She always does.” He glanced at you then, something calculating flashing in his gaze. And just like that, an idea struck. A terrible, impulsive, reckless idea.

“Want some help?” you asked casually, swirling the liquid in your cup.

Rafe gave you a wary look. “Help how?”

You turned toward him fully, standing just a little closer. Close enough that if someone were looking—if Amelia were looking—it would seem like something was going on between you two.

“Play along,” you murmured just as Amelia reached you both.

You didn’t give him time to question it. Instead, you turned to face him, resting a hand on his chest like it was second nature. “Ye babe,” you said, voice just loud enough for Amelia to hear. “I definitely think we should go on that trip.”

Rafe blinked, caught off guard for only a second before he caught on. A slow smirk spread across his lips. “Sure baby,” he drawled, slipping an arm around your waist. “Just you and me.”

You barely had time to process the way his hand rested against the small of your back before Amelia’s face twisted into shock. “Wait… you two are—?”

“Together?” Rafe finished, pulling you even closer. “Yeah. Thought you knew.”

You bit back a grin as Amelia’s eyes darted between the two of you, disbelief and irritation warring in her expression. It was almost too easy.

“Oh,” she said after a moment, clearly struggling to process. “I just… I didn’t realize. You never said anything.”

Rafe shrugged. “Didn’t think I needed to.”

You leaned into him slightly, playing with the fabric of his shirt. “We’ve been keeping things low-key,” you added smoothly. “But, you know, kind of hard now that everyone’s starting to notice.”

Amelia looked like she had just bitten into something sour. “Right. Well… I guess that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Rafe said, sounding almost bored now. “Anyway, we were kind of in the middle of something, so…”

Amelia hesitated, looking like she wanted to argue, but for once, she seemed to realize there was no point. With a forced smile, she nodded. “Of course. I’ll… see you later.”

The second she walked away, you exhaled, stepping back slightly. “Well. That was fun.”

Rafe chuckled, dropping his arm from your waist but not moving far. “Not bad, princess. You almost had me convinced.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t deny the small thrill running through you. Maybe it was just the game of it, the ease in which you’d both fallen into the act. Or maybe it was the way you had caught sight of Alex from across the party—his jaw clenched, his eyes burning into the back of Rafe’s head.

Interesting.

“Maybe we should keep this up,” you mused, glancing at Rafe. “You get Amelia off your back, and… well, let’s just say Alex didn’t look too happy just now.”

Rafe tilted his head, considering. Then, slowly, he grinned.

“Let the games begin, then.”

——————————

Let me know what you think! Are you ready for part 2?

[salemrph]

The Taste of Romance (Valentine’s Day)

Summary: What was meant to be a quiet Valentine’s Day with Sylus, making chocolate together, takes a turn when a mission interrupts: chasing down Heartbreaker.

Character: Sylus & Reader

Genre: romantic, fluffy, slightly action

Word count: 5,572 | Reading Time: 22 min | AO3

A/N: After today's banner, I just had to release this, because it's pretty much what I was expecting, something like this: A cute mission hunting Heartbreaker, with a super romantic outcome. Making chocolate and decorating a cake. And kisses, lots of them.

 {Pop Candy Song BGM}

You spent the last day searching for a good recipe online, strolling through pastries and sweets shops in Linkon. On the kitty cat calendar display on the wall of your kitchen, February 14th is marked with a little heart in red. Well, it is actually tomorrow. This is your third attempt making chocolates this week. You have everything you need: a box, sugar pens and flowers, gift wrap, strawberry and tons of other decorations stuff. Your idea is to create a special box, for a special gentleman that stole your heart, soul and body. 

Somehow you keep messing up with portions, you follow the instructions step by step, but always something goes wrong. The milk is too hot, too much sugar… you feel a bit like Xavier trying to not burn down your place. The other attendants were interrupted by an urgent mission, or you managed to drop the bowl or put in salt instead of sugar. 

The caw of Mephisto, sitting on the microwave, is a signal to stir the mixture. The bird can be useful even during moments like this. Mephisto seems even happy to help you out. Is strange how well you get along with him. Sometimes he gets on your nerves, especially when he steals all the shiny items you have. But you like him, and it's just as fun as fighting with Luke and Kieran.This little crow family you've joined, despite their “evil” aura, are all good people. And no one can convince you otherwise. Come to thinking of it, maybe you should make choco popcake for the twins. Giving chocolate to the mechanical crow… You stare at Mephisto, who cocks his head in response to your piercing gaze. No… You shake your head. Not a good idea. 

The kitchen smelled of rich, melted chocolate, the warmth of it mixing with the familiar comfort of home. You had been carefully stirring the glossy mixture, completely absorbed in your task, when—

"What are you doing, sweetie?"

The deep sexy voice of your boyfriend makes you hitch. If you were a real cat you would have jumped, fur bristling and tail puffed in alarm. Surely hiding yourself on top of the kitchen cabinet. Although your Hunter senses are exceptional, being at home you usually lower your guard. Your heart jumps and you almost drop the bowl, again…

"I told you to stay out of the kitchen" you huffed, turning to glare at Sylus.

He leaned lazily against the counter, arms crossed, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah, but I didn’t agree to that. Besides, where should I hide in this small apartment?" 

“Why are you here in the first place? I told you I was busy” you hide the bowl behind your back. Actually the kitchen is a mess, opened packages of chocolates scattered across the counter, the strawberries you had bought are still in their cold water bath. You’re a good cook, decent at baking, but working with chocolate? That is another topic. For the occasion, when you were buying all your supplies for this mission, you bought yourself a very cute apron. Which you are wearing right now to prevent staining your outfit. Underneath it, you wear comfy shorts and a white t-shirt.

“A certain kitten ignored me all week, so I decided to drop by and spend some time with her.” His lips curve into a slow smirk. “But somehow, I ended up banned from the kitchen, and Mephisto got demoted to a kitchen clock.” His voice drips with mock offense, but the way he watches you, eyes sweeping over your domestic outfit examining you slowly from top to bottom… Tells you he’s more entertained than anything, the amusement literally dancing in his eyes.

The small apron snug around your waist and chest, the loose strands of hair slipping free from your high ponytail, the way your oversized t-shirt shifts when you fidget under his stare. You’re a mess. Flustered and completely unaware of just how lovely you look. Sylus smiles, noticing that you’re definitely not wearing a bra. It might just be his lucky day.

He exhales a quiet chuckle, stepping closer. His gaze moves to the bowl behind your back, curiosity flashing behind the red glowing eyes.

"So… what exactly are you doing?”

You meet his gaze with a sly smile, tilting your head just slightly. "I’m preparing poison."

His smirk deepened. "Poison? Sweetie, if you wanted to kill me, there are easier ways."

Before you could react, he stepped in, closing the distance in a way that made your pulse stutter. His body caged you against the counter, warmth radiating off him. His attention goes down to the spoon still in your hand, his fingers grazing your wrist as he tilted his head in amusement.

"What kind of poison will it be?" he murmured, voice low and teasing.

Your breath hitched, you felt a little nervous again but you held your ground. "The kind you can’t separate from normal food."

Sylus hummed. In a swift motion, he plucked the spoon from your grasp, bringing it to his lips without breaking eye contact. His tongue flicked against the chocolate before he tasted it, a low, satisfied hum vibrating in his throat.

"Hmm… dangerous" he mused, licking the remnants from the spoon. Your stomach flipped, heat rising to your cheeks as his free hand settled on your waist. "Should I be worried, sweetie?" he teased, his lips dangerously close to yours, chocolate lingering on his breath.

“Always" you whispered, barely able to focus with the way he was looking at you. Sylus laughed softly, his fingers tightening slightly on your waist as he leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against yours—just enough to make you chase the touch.

He lifts you onto the counter, his smirk never fading as he leans in, his lips still hovering, teasing you. Just as you think he'll kiss you, he pulls back, holding up the spoon coated with the last traces of chocolate.

“Lick” he ordered softly. You hesitate, eyes flickering between the spoon and his glowing red eyes. “For poison, it tastes good” he jokes. 

Without breaking eye contact, you slowly drag your tongue along the spoon, savoring the rest of the dark mixture. Sylus inhales sharply, his pupils darkening as his grip on your thigh tight. His cock getting harder by the second. You can feel the shift in the air, the tension between you two raising. When you finish, he titles his head slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips. “Messy kitten” he says low, brushing his thumb along the corner of your mouth spotted with sweetness. 

Before he can lean in again—

Bip bip bip!!! Your hunter watch shatters the moment. Your groan as your head falls back. You've got to be kidding me. You click your tongue in irritation. Sylus exhales sharply, his fingers flexing against your thigh before he pulls away entirely. The warmth of his body vanishes, replaced by the cold reality of duty. He leans back against the counter, crossing his arms, you can tell he's annoyed as much as you are.

Between his businesses and your jobs, having this moment is almost rare. You managed to video call, send each other messages and you try as much as possible to be with him. Now for Valentine's Day you requested two free days, so you could finish the box with strawberries and chocolate. 

You shoot him a glare before tapping the watch, the holographic interface lighting up with an incoming mission briefing. Your free day is gone. Just like that. You sigh, already slipping off the counter.

Priority Alert: Hunter (Y/N) Required. Immediate Deployment. Target—Wanderer: Heartbreaker.

You scroll through the report, brows furrowing. "It’s… been messing with couples. Destroying their date spots, ruining chocolate shipments, even sabotaging proposals." You pause. "Wow. It's really committed.”

Sylus lets out a dry chuckle. "So, you're going to hunt a depressed little menace who hates love?”

"I hope it's not as slippery as Pumpkin Magnus. This is serious.” 

Running after that Wanderer near to New Year was exhausting. At least you had fun during the event. The lantern you made together is still hanging at his base. 

“Because nothing screams ‘deadly mission’ like chasing that thing before it cancels Valentine’s Day.” 

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the small laugh that slips out. "Come on, we need to move.”

you prompt as you start grabbing your gear, moving to your bedroom to change into your uniform. Sylus seems to be a bit out of track. 

“We?" He raises an eyebrow. He follows you, not wanting to miss how you change. "I don’t remember signing up for this mission." He's distracted when you reveal your body, pulling your T-shirt over your head. He knew it, no bra today. His dick is still half hard. Sylus wanted so badly to have you that evening. Making you whimper his name, seeing you getting all sweaty and naughty. Kissing your belly, worshiping you in all senses. His plans were crushed in a moment. You glance at him over your shoulder, half naked grabbing your uniform from the chair. 

"Please. You always end up involved in my missions one way or another.” You move quickly. 

He leans against the doorframe, watching you with open amusement. "That’s different. Also I was busy with something else before someone’s annoying watch ruined the evening.”

You huff. "Well, if you're not coming, I’ll just—”

"Did I say I wasn’t coming?" His voice is smooth, teasing. 

If he can't have fun with your body then at least he would accompany you through this little adventure. Spending time with you is always fun and it doesn't really matter what you two are doing. 

Later in the city

“This the last spot where Heartbreaker was seen” you close the file on your watch. The park is quiet, bathed in the soft glow of the winter sun. The lake stretches out before you, its surface rippling slightly under the breeze, reflecting the bright light of the evening. A few boats remain docked, swaying gently, their chains clinking against the wooden posts. Mephisto is scanning the area, flying over the park.

“The last couple attacked was right here. Their boat capsized, and they both ended up breaking up on the spot.”

Tracking Heartbreaker could be complicated. You look around to find some evidence of why, where and how it attacks the couples. You walk around with Sylus next to you. The scanner of your watch give you an update:

“No abnormal energy spikes detected. Traces of Wanderer activity linger near the dock.”

You nod, stepping closer to the water’s edge. “It doesn’t just pick any couple… don’t you think?”

Sylus smirks, his gaze flicks to the lake. "So, what’s the plan? Rent a boat, act all lovey-dovey, and lure the thing out?"

You let out a small sigh, tapping your fingers against your arm. “Probably it will work, but it doesn't mean it will appear right here. Which means it could take some time to find it…” You pause, then turn to face him, tilting your head slightly. “Sylus… can you be even romantic?” 

“I feel offended, kitten. Wasn't my affection not clear enough.”

You snort, shifting your weight onto one leg. “Let me think, you've taken me on several “date-missions”, using me as an armory, shield and bodyguard. And let’s not forget, you introduced me as just a friend during the museum event.”

“That's what it's all about.” Sylus lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Then, why don’t you teach me what it means to be romantic…”

“Do you want to take on this challenge?”

“You're always so competitive, sweetie. Why not?”

“Then less see who can make first appear Heartbreaker” 

As the evening stretches on, the two of you move through different spots known for romantic outings. First, a charming café where couples linger over half-finished desserts and whispered conversations. You glance at the menu and realize everything is designed for two: shared platters, couple-themed drinks, even desserts that come in matching sets. You realice most of the people are wearing matching outfits. You wonder if going around in the same outfits would be something you would do with him. Buying everything in a double set. Wearing the same pajamas, drinking from identical mugs, layering yourselves in matching sweaters… You have been wearing matching bracelets since the mission with the gem. Your fingers brush over it absentmindedly as you stir your drink, lost in thought. The dessert you ordered a while ago lay in front of you untouched. Sylus leans forward in his chair, smirking at your focused expression. 

“What’s on your mind, sweetie?” you're still lost in thought, your mind drifting over ways to be more romantic with him, until he suddenly holds up a spoonful of dessert in front of your nose. “Open” He orders you, you grimace at his sudden assertiveness but obey, letting him feed you. 

That’s 10 points for Sylus, feeding you is a way to be romantic.

Next stop is a flower garden, where lovers stroll between glowing lanterns and fragrant blossoms. Sylus plucks a small pink flower off a tree, twirling it between his fingers before tucking it behind your ear with a teasing grin. "That’s romantic enough for you, sweetie?" he murmurs slightly amusted. You roll your eyes but don't take off the flower.

“You can do better…” as you turn around to look around, which flower would match him the best? A red one catches your eyes, small and with delicate petals. You pull out several and turn back to him. "Bend down". You place one in his hair and another behind his ear. Sylus looks at you intensely, the warm light of the garden softening his features. You feel your heart begin to race. The beauty that this man radiates is out of this world, every time you remember this fact you don't understand how no one appreciates what you are seeing.

Just like at the New Year's market, the lady at the doll stand referred to Sylus as a tiger, someone fierce and intimidating. And although he certainly usually has that look, and he teases you about taming him, he has a soft spot. You see that every time you reflect yourself in his eyes. That’s truly something that makes you happy. 

Sylus gently grabs your hand, kissing the knuckles of your fingers. Bowing to his beloved lady. “Only you can touch me like this…” the intensity of the moment makes you blush.

By nightfall, you find yourselves at the promenade, the city lights shimmering on the river’s surface. Couples are everywhere, walking hand in hand, nestled on benches, whispering to each other under the soft glow of street lamps. Sylus and you take a seat on an empty bench, the cool night air carrying the sound of laughter and distant music. 

You lean back, exhaling. "Well, this is the third couple’s spot on the list, and still no sign of Heartbreaker."

Sylus stretches, his arm casually draping over the back of the bench almost around you. "Maybe, it's scared of us. Or maybe…" he tilts his head, watching the couples nearby, "...it only appears when there’s actual romance in the air."

You glance at him "Are you saying we’re not romantic enough?"

He smirks, leaning in just a little. "You tell me, kitten. Has there been a moment that made your heart race?"

“Not yet” you lie and he notices it. Is written all over your face. “And you, have I made your hearts race?” 

“No…” He points out nonchalantly. You feel offended and disappointed. Your lips press into a thin line, and you scoff, looking away. 

Sylus chuckles, the sound low and amused. "Oh? Are you disappointed?"

"Obviously" you huff, refusing to meet his gaze.

He shifts closer, trapping you on the bench. His smell invades you, you want to lie on his chest and let him caress your back while he reads you a poem. His voice dropped to a whisper "You shouldn’t be." Before you can ask what he means, he takes your hand, guiding it to his chest. Beneath your palm, his heartbeat is steady but strong. Your fingers twitch slightly.

"You make it race all the time," he confesses. "I just like seeing you try harder."

Even though he says it with his usual confidence, a slight pink color spreads across his cheeks. He says something like that, and now he’s blushing? That’s not fair. You stay in that position, refusing to move, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palm. For you, the world slows down, all of it fades into the background. 

Your gaze drifts upward, from his chest to his throat, lingering for a second before finally settling on his lips. They’re slightly parted, you miss the feeling of them. How they move in sync with yours. The longing to feel his naked skin on yours, his hands being a delicate weapon with which he tortures you until you fall between sighs and moans. It ignites the deepest desire of your heart. You don’t know if it’s your imagination or if he’s leaning in ever so slightly, but your heart is pounding loud enough that he must hear it.

"Kitten" he whispers. A question. A challenge. An Invitation.

Then a sudden chill cuts through the warm night, the hairs on your arms rising as the atmosphere shifts. You tense, instincts kicking in, fingers moving quickly toward your weapon. The shadows near the water seem to distort, the faint outline of something lurking just beyond normal sight.

“There” you murmur. Your watch confirms your gut feeling: metaflux energy detected.

Sylus follows your gaze, a slow grin spreading across his lips as excitement flickers in his eyes. He rolls his shoulders, readying himself.

“Time to break a Heartbreaker.”

You react first, drawing your weapon in a fluid motion, instincts honed from countless battles. “Sylus, left flank!” You call out, already moving, running after the Heartbreaker. Sylus doesn’t hesitate. He dashes to the side, his speed a blur as he circles around to cut off any escape. 

“I see it” he growls. 

—

At the end of the day, you spent the complete day hunting Heartbreaker, to just let him escape at the last moment. Well, you managed to recover the love letter they stole from the post office. You were exhausted, your muscles ached from the chase, the weight of exhaustion settling deep. This isn't how you wanted to spend a day with Sylus. You wanted to finish what you had started in the kitchen, to lose yourself in the heat of his lips, his hands, the way he makes your world tilt whenever he pulls you close. The initial mission of creating chocolate failed.

The cool night air brushes against your skin as you walk back where Sylus left his bike that same afternoon. Luckily you didn't have to go to HQ to make the report and you can send everything another day. Is already midnight. 

“Are you up for a joy ride?” Sylus hands you over your helmet. You can’t deny the way your heart beats at the sight of him. Leaning against his bike, smirking like he hadn’t just spent the whole day hunting down an annoyingly elusive Wanderer.

You’re brushing some remaining dust from your sleeve. “Where do you wanna take me?”

Sylus tilts his head that familiar glint of mischief returns to his gaze. “Guess” You sigh, finally slipping the helmet on. 

“Fine. But if this is another mission, I swear—” Right now, you just wanted to be with him, without missions, without distractions, without anything getting in the way. 

"Relax, kitten. No more running around tonight." He swings a leg over the bike, patting the seat behind him. “Just you and me.” You bite your lip, the familiar rush of warmth spreading through your chest. Maybe today hadn’t gone as planned, but with Sylus, it never really mattered. As long as he was beside you, it was enough.

You climb onto the bike behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He hums in approval, his hand covering yours for just a second before gripping the handlebar.

“Hold on tight.” As the engine roars to life and the city lights blur around you, you press yourself closer against him, letting the night swallow the rest of the world. Sylus increases speed, making you scream in surprise. Instead of telling him to behave in the city, you laugh and hold on tighter to his body. The speed, the wind and the heat he emits make you forget your disappointment of not having caught Heartbreaker.

{At Twilight BGM} 

After a while, Sylus parks the bike smoothly in front of your place, the engine’s low hum fading into the quiet of the night. But he doesn’t move. You frown slightly, shifting against him, your arms still loosely wrapped around his waist.

“Why are we here?” you ask, tilting your head. “I thought you would take me to your base”

He finally exhales a quiet chuckle, tilting his head back just enough for his voice to carry over the roar of your heartbeat. “Do you miss the N109 Zone?” 

You wait for an explanation, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, he lifts a hand, dragging his fingers over the back of your hand, a slow movement that sends a shiver up your spine. His touch is always so warm against your skin.

“Then… Why?” Sylus finally turns slightly, his glowing red eyes catching yours through the visor of your helmet. 

“Because you live here…” he murmurs a bit amused “And because I figured you’d want to finish what you started.”

You blink. “Finish what—?”

Then it clicks. The chocolate. Your eyes widen slightly, your mind flashing back to your kitchen, to the mess you left behind, to the small box of chocolates you had managed to salvage amidst the chaos. You had nearly forgotten. Nearly.

Sylus watches as realization dawns on you, his smirk deepening. “You didn’t think I’d let you off the hook that easily, did you?”

You exhale a laugh, shaking your head. “I swear, you have the worst priorities.”

Sylus finally turns off the bike and swings a leg over, his movements smooth as ever. He faces you, leaning in just slightly. “Come on, kitten. You worked so hard on them.” His voice dips lower, teasing. “And besides…” His fingers ghost under your chin, tilting your face up ever so slightly. “You still owe me for all those interruptions.”

Your breath catches, heat creeping up your neck.

“Okay, okay.” You step off the bike, brushing past him with a smirk of your own. “But if they taste bad, you have to pretend you like it.”

Sylus chuckles. “Sweetie, if it’s made by you…” He leans down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers, “I’ll devour every last bite.” Your face starts to burn, is he still talking about the chocolate? 

You push the door open, stepping inside with Sylus close behind you. You get rid of your weapons at the entrance, placing your belt in its usual place, then you take off your shoes. The familiar scent of chocolate is still faintly in the air, mixed with the comforting warmth of your home. Your eyes immediately move to the kitchen counter, where the bowl of half-made chocolate still sits, abandoned in the rush of the mission.

“So much for finishing what I started” you murmur, rubbing your temple. Sylus hums behind you, moving into the kitchen with easy, unhurried steps.

“Guess you’ll have to make it up to me.”

You give him a dry look. “Oh? And what exactly do you suggest?”

He smirks. “We finish them now.”

Your brows lift. “It’s late.”

Sylus shrugs. “And? Isn't it Valentine's Day already?” He points to the clock in the living room. True, it's past one in the morning. You hesitate, glancing at bowl. It’s cooled but still workable. The strawberries you left soaking in cold water remain untouched. You sigh, rolling up your sleeves.

“Well, would you like to help me then?”

His smirk widens. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

You smile, pointing to the strawberries. “Dry them off and bring them here.” Sylus makes a show of complying, grabbing a towel and drying each berry gently off. You already know he’s skilled in the kitchen, especially with those delicious cupcakes he made before. It’s fun having him here, helping out. It feels real, everything, you’re feeling, your connection, your relationship.

You pick up a strawberry and dip it carefully into the warm chocolate you have already heated up, twisting it slightly before placing it on parchment paper. Sylus follows your movements, but when he dips his strawberry, he makes a mess; chocolate coating nearly his whole fingers.

You snort. “Wow. Truly an expert.”

Before you can react, he lifts his fingers to his lips, licking the excess chocolate off slowly. The way his tongue drags over his skin, the way his eyes hold yours the entire time. He did it on purpose. You look away. Heat rushes to your face. You glance down at your own fingers, chocolate smeared across your skin from your earlier work. Before you can wipe it away, Sylus catches your wrist, holding it up between you. His gaze darkens slightly, that playful smirk softening. 

“Let me….”

He didn’t give you the time to protest before his lips brush against your fingertips, his tongue flicking out to catch the chocolate. Your breath hitches, a rush of heat shoots through your body. He’s not in a hurry. He takes his time, licking the chocolate off each finger with a sinful kind of precision. 

“Sylus—” Your voice catches. 

His eyes meet yours. He likes to make you blush, to make you lose your composure. He loves every single one of those expressions you make and he never gets tired of seeing you that way. “Hmm?”

You swallow, pulse hammering in your throat. “…Nothing.” His lips curl at the edges. Satisfied. 

And suddenly, Valentine’s Day doesn’t seem so ruined after all. Without a word, he moves, stepping closer until you're pressed against the cool edge of the counter. He lifts you easily, your feet leaving the floor as he sets you down, your body flush against his.

“Where were we before?” You open your mouth to respond, but he silences you with a smirk, his fingers brushing against the strap of your hunter watch. You freeze. With a swift motion, he rips it off your wrist, tossing it into a nearby drawer without a second thought.

“Don't need this right now” he mutters, eyes back on you as if the watch had never mattered in the first place.

Your heart races. “Wait—”

But the words die in your throat as his lips descend to the curve of your neck, trailing soft, teasing kisses along the sensitive skin there. The heat of his touch sends a shiver through you, and your hands instinctively grip the edge of the counter, as if it can steady you against the flood of desire rushing through your veins. His thumb traces the line of your jaw slowly, savoring the moment. You swallow, the taste of his proximity is intoxicating. Sylus pulls back slightly, his face inches from yours, his breath mingling with yours as his gaze flickers to your lips. 

“What else can we cover with chocolate, kitten?”

You watch down on the bowl, if he is having fun then so do you. You dip your finger once more in the mixture and cup his face with your other hand, securing his position. Sylus just smiles. With the chocolate slightly dripping down, you painted a heart on his face. You always wanted to do this, but you haven't had the opportunity until now. You lean in, your lips brushing over his skin. Then with open mouth kisses you eat up the chocolate. Licking bit by bit the sweetness. Sylus breath hitch. His hands press on your thigh, restrained, as if waiting to see what you’ll do next. You pull back slightly, meeting his gaze.

“Take your shirt off” you say softly.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. “Bossy.” But he doesn’t hesitate. His fingers move to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one with a painfully slowness, as if daring you to lose patience. The fabric parts, revealing the hard lines of his chest. 

You dip your fingers into the chocolate again, your touch featherlight as you trace a path down the center of his chest, stopping just above his heart. Sylus exhales sharply, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. A teasing smile playing on your lips. 

"Are you trying to make art?" His voice is a low rumble. You grin, dipping your finger back into the bowl. 

"Maybe. Stay still."

He growls softly, like a domesticated wild cat, when you drag the chocolate-covered fingertip over his collarbone, tracing down his ribs in lazy patterns. In the middle of this action, you get a better idea, and you start writing on his chest. A little crooked, but clearly. Something that always comes to your mind every time you see him. Every time he kisses you, every time you melt into a long hug, when you sleep next to him or he just says your name. Then, suddenly, he catches your wrist, his grip gentle yet firm. His eyes soften as he reads the words scrawled across his chest. His smile is small, but undeniably warm.

"Kitten..." he murmurs, pressing a slow kiss onto your lips. "That's something I should be saying.”

“Did you think our competition was over?”

His hand sliding to the back of your neck as he pulls you closer. “Is this how…” He presses another kiss onto your lips, his voice low as he whispers against you, “...you’re going to teach me romanticism?” He moves his lips to your cheek, planting a soft kiss there as well. “I’m more than happy to be your student.” 

You try to pinch him, but Sylus is quicker, capturing your other hand as well. "Oh, now you want to punish me…"

You smile, a glint of mischief in your eyes. "Then be a good boy." For a moment he considers not doing what you say, but that "good boy" has made him very horny.

Sylus leans in, his body pressing between your legs. You sink your free hand into his tousled grey hair, pulling him toward you as your lips brush together. The way his breath mingles with yours is both comforting and intoxicating. The trust and complicity that you share with him is unique. The longer you're in this intimate position, the faster your pulse quickens, and you swear it's synchronizing with the beat of your lover. 

Sylus moves with an urgency that surprises you for a moment, his lips finding yours again, more demanding this time. His lips trail down your jaw, his touch becoming more insistent, more heated. You tilt your head, gasping softly as you feel the desire in his touch.

"Tell me," he whispers between kisses, "What do you want, kitten?" His hand slides up to your cheek, his thumb gently brushing the curve of your jaw as his gaze holds yours. You breathe out, every inch of you aching with the pull between you two. 

“You know what I want.” you whisper back. 

With a quiet, almost reverent motion, he lifts you effortlessly from the counter, your legs instinctively wrapping around him as he carries you to the bed, never breaking eye contact.  

It isn’t long before every single piece of clothing you were wearing is scattered across the room, discarded like thoughts of hesitation that no longer matter. His hands move with a gentleness that contrasts with the fire in his eyes, tracing slow, reverent paths over your skin. He holds you as if you are something precious, something irreplaceable, as if he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets go.

His lips follow the path his hands have mapped, pressing slow. His fingers skimming along the curve of your back, the dip of your waist, the rise of your ribs. 

"You’re beautiful" he murmurs, almost as if the words slip out without his permission. He leans back just enough to look at you, his gaze searching, drinking you in as if this moment might slip through his fingers if he blinks.

You reach up, fingers threading through his silver-grey hair, tugging lightly. “You always say that” you whisper, smiling softly.

“Because it’s always true” he counters, brushing his lips over your temple. You close your eyes at the tenderness of his words, the way they sink into your chest, filling spaces you hadn’t realized were empty. A quiet sigh escapes you as you nuzzle into him, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. You have never felt safer, never felt more cherished than in this moment, wrapped in the arms of the one who knows you better than anyone else.

In the most intimate moments, in the intensity of your sighs, you know that Sylus, despite not expressing it in words, shows you his most romantic side through his actions. And tonight, he expresses it to you with the intensity of his gaze and the softness of his movements. 

Actions speaks louder than words.

[rinsko]

THAT FUNNY LITTLE GIRL ♡ GOJO SATORU

he hopes this lifetime will be enough to love.

papa! gojo washes his baby’s hair, what could go wrong! jumping thru the timeline, multiple times. sfw, fluff. approx. two thousand word count. he is filled to the brim with love.

“daddy?” his baby calls for him, satoru, who happens to be sitting right beside her bathtub— criss-crossed legs, paying less and less mind to the cold tile floor that’s making his skin shiver, and more on what she has to say.

“yeah baby?” he’s just down the hall, but you’ve begun to pick apart how his voice, with every syllable, sounds so fond when he speaks to her: his very precious girl.

you hear the gentle hum she hums for a quick second, the mumbling, jumbling of her words as she sorts out what she wants to say and then, “why’s the sky blue?”

★ ‎

there’s a bathtub marker in her hand when she asks, the very same ones satoru was so incredibly persistent on buying at your last shopping store run—

“bathtub markers?” he hears the quirk in your eyebrow before he has a chance to see it, holding the pack of eight in his hand like it’s the greatest invention yet.

“yup! we need them!” he stands side by side with his mini me— matching pairs of silly puppy dog eyes appear on their faces and a dramatic pout fixed to both their lips.

he whispers what he thinks you won’t hear, covering his lips behind the palm of his hand as he kneels to her side. “pst…” he hisses comically loud, “we need to say please, sunshine.”

“pease!” no please, (she’s much cuter about this whole ordeal than he is—) she nods her head as she swings her feet back and forth, fluttering without a sound.

could you guess what’s harder than saying no to her? satoru would vote it’s probably saying: goodbye!

your heart aches lovingly, too impossible to resist— “‘toru, it sounds like you want them more than she does.” grabbing the bundle of markers, you flip them to the side, skimming through its directions and their warnings.

“me?!” he says in the least dramatic tone he could possibly mutter, “are you denying our baby of an artistic future?” and then there’s a hand over his face again. he covers the gasping motion he’s currently molded into, “that she’s not destined to be the next picasso?”

“she’s three! how would you know?” funny grins paint over both your faces because it’s a bittersweet thought: her future, who’ll she be and what’ll become of her.

“there’s an artist inside that little heart, i can feel it.” he’s determined to stick to the skit, crossing his arms over his chest and puffing with a promising certainty for it all.

it’s even funnier when he knows he’s won too: when you hand over the markers to your baby’s pudgy fingers, he has that face plastered on. same one as every other time he’s won you over on something hilariously trivial.

“so honey,” focusing, you decide to actively ignore the cutest dimples on the corner of his smile, “what will you draw when you get home today?”

“f’owers” she points at the red marker, “more for you!” an obvious reference to the dozen roses she’s seen on the dinner table.

“you’re so sweet! i know you’ll draw me the prettiest flowers, my love!” you kiss the tip of her nose as tiny pearly whites form a cheeky smile in return— “ahem.” satoru follows slowly behind you both as you begin to stroll down the aisle again.

“and for daddy,” the coast is clear so you take the chance to stop and spread your arms as wide as you can, “you draw him the biggest, blue sky that matches his eyes!”

she giggles at the dramatics, your stretched out arms and satoru’s loving gaze directed toward you— she mimics these two things. “big sky ‘nd daddy!” and it’s true, your satoru carries the big sky wherever he goes.

★ ‎

“uhmm..” he thinks hard about it, rubbing the nape of his neck, setting his glasses down to the side— how exactly do you explain the color of the sky to a toddler?

he scoots in a little closer now, splashing sounds echoing around while she fidgets with the other toys in the bath, “so, the light from mr. sun is made of all the colors of the rainbow. do you know which ones?”

satoru picks out the markers in the same exact pattern he’s memorized— red, orange, yellow, green in her hand, blue, and the purple that seems the closest to violet.

she doesn’t sound very interested, yet. but you doubt it as long as there’s paddling turtles wound up and clicking across the bubbly water; her attention’s obviously elsewhere.

satoru uncaps the yellow marker first: forming one big, rigid circle against the shower wall that represents the sun— followed by streaks of all the other colors in his hands stretching away from it, representing light.

“like this,” he says, “all the colors of the rainbow.” he returns the green marker she had at first, happily holding onto the object again.

“but ms. earth,” a cake of blue forms as the felt tip rolls around in one spot, “likes blue the best. so, she makes her sky blue.” and with that, your baby blinks up at him like a doll— eyelashes pinched into the perfect curl, and he wonders if he’s only confused her even more.

“oh.” it’s funny how somber-toned she sounds— oh, the same tone you’d use after hearing the most unbelievable truth (or a lie!) the utter shock, the disbelief… that oh.

“just kidding!” he gleams brightly now as she watches. apparently, it had been enough to grab her attention even for the slimmest second.

satoru drops the markers back in the bathtub net where she had placed them, settling within her reach.

“the sky’s blue because daddy’s eyes are blue.”

and if he gleams, his baby does too, “i knew it!”

(he promises to explain himself to you a little later. surely, hopefully, you must forgive him and his little, white lie!)

“oh, you did?” satoru settles his knees as close as he can to the tub now, minimizing all the space he can as he reaches for the shampoo bottle on the edge of the tub, “isn’t my little girl so clever? yes, the smartest!”

she giggles, water splashing around as she moves closer towards her daddy’s arms— completely used to this routine by now, “mm, like papa.”

once he squeezes the bottle, he thinks his heart’s being squeezed too. watching chamomile-scented soap pour onto the palm of his hands, he smiles. “you think i’m clever, sunshine?”

“sometimes.” but she’s off in her own little world again, drawing on the wall with her favorite turtle beside her.

he supposes he will take what he can get.

with a gentle rinse to her hair, satoru begins to form a gentle lather along the crown of her head, “i want to be a clever daddy for you,” he says.

you know it comes with no thought, as if the words have simply fallen out and onto his tongue before they’ve finally reached his head, “a good papa.”

and it’s happened so frequently, he jokes with you about how she must have some sort of technique to pull out the honest truth from anyone— even without trying to.

“you just love her, satoru.”

★ ‎

amidst the grogginess of the morning and eyes closed shut, you tell him that much. it’s all you can grumble out when your firefly of a husband rises before the sun.

he claims it’s early morning clarity— when your mind is filled with everything and nothing. all you can do it spill your heart out. not much you can do to help it.

he loves this part of the day with you.

“i do. a lot.” he says in one lasting breath, just before shifting from being your big spoon to peek over at the baby monitor on his bedside table for the… nth time.

if she didn’t make him feel like his entire life was worth it, maybe he wouldn’t look at her so often. but she does, not even aware of it, with a leg dangling off the bed. plushies used for pillows rather than the pillows themselves.

it doesn’t scare him as much as it used to: the act of loving, and the acting of expressing it— the act of admitting just how much he does.

“she loves you too.”

★ ‎

with the soapy suds spilling over his knuckles, between his fingers and the strands of her hair, satoru notices something new.

he twirls a finger around the ends of her hair, strands strong and smooth— as he realizes they’re starting to curve around the shell of her ear on its own, when he doesn’t remember it doing that before.

and as he lowers his gaze, the soapy lather following along, he sees the longest strands of his baby’s hair are bound to meet the back of her neck. nape, ears and shoulders all meeting someone new.

satoru forgets that time goes by fast, especially when you’re filled with love to spare. “when did you start growing up so fast, sunshine?”

she shrugs.

the strength in his knees give out, landing him right back down onto the tile floor; feet tucked underneath his body. “it’s too fast.” he murmurs so lowly, you can barely catch on to what’s been said.

too fast to watch her go— but don’t say it out loud, satoru doesn’t have the heart to finish or hear the rest.

she’ll be able to say please, even without him asking her to. she’ll be able to pronounce her l’s until she loses her two front teeth. she’ll hold onto his hand, and he’ll hold onto her.

then, it’ll be time for school. and she’ll be leaving his side as a big girl now, with a lunch bag he’s packed and a slipping backpack over her shoulder— yes, inevitably, that’s going to happen too, just as he has before.

and if that’s right around the corner, then so is every other phase, inevitably— and the rest of her life from then on. it’s going to happen one day: where satoru’s baby is no longer a baby and he will have to let her go.

“‘toru.” he turns to you, towel in hand, pressing weight against the wall’s edge. “what’re you weepin’ about now, baby?”

your daughter turns to face him in a heartbeat, curious.

“crying?” voice trembling, he nudges his cheek into his sleeve in attempts to hide any evidence, big hands still in need of rinsing along with her hair. “who’s crying?”

stepping closer, you hang the towel over the hook before sitting right next to his side, “because you never cry, especially at random times.” you poke once at his ribs.

“you’re starting to get me, sweetness.” then, he dips his fingers into the water, bubbly foam parting ways from his skin. it falls down her shoulders when he rinses her off, all done with the bath, and having a little time to play.

you watch him for a while, trying to identify the cause and while trying to make small talk— you mention something without much thought, “her hair has gotten a lot longer now.”

his voice, it’s tinier than you’ve ever expected it to be, “i know…” a sniffle divides his sentence, a proper pause, “she’s growing up so fast.”

“ah… so, that’s what this is about.”

you rest your head over his shoulder, still feeling as in love as ever, “you’re cute, you know that?” he rests his in return. “we still have hundreds of days together.” you watch the way she draws on the wall, enjoying her happiness as if it were your own.

“it doesn’t feel like enough.” he says.

“i don’t think it’ll ever be enough.” no, it never will. “maybe we’re greedy like that, honey.” yes, you know this.

he knows he is. because there’s a bright sun in the blue sky with red roses to bring it all together, just like she promised.

“finished!” she looks back at you two, hands in the air in celebration of her brand new masterpiece being born.

“oh! they’re so pretty!” sweet enthusiasm in your voice, you give her all the attention in the world. “just perfect!”

you begin to ask her the little things, every detail you could think of and she could find an answer to, all while wrapping her in the warm towel you hung up earlier.

satoru’s gotten up from the floor too, taking it all in until she calls for him again, “that’s you, daddy.” she points at the blue on the wall as you carry her back to her room.

his heart screams though he’s no longer crying and he hopes this lifetime will be enough to love.

satoru hears your footsteps trickling further down the hall when your voice resounds again, “come on daddy, we need help picking out today’s pijamas!”

“pease, papa hurry!”

his heart screams though he’s no longer crying as he listens to the water flow down the drain, capturing her first piece of art on his phone, he has very little to say.

but if he had to say it and if his baby asked him to, satoru would confess: “i’m so happy. i’m so happy to love you.”

hello friends! this is a repost from my previous blog, mysugu. in the case you recognize this piece, that is (hopefully) why! thank you for reading this bit, (a second time?) he is so loved.

[ventitititi]

You will never be unloved

Caleb x reader x rafayel, promised blurb for @mirangel

Cw/tw: three way, Dom/sub dynamics, nicknames; princess, cutie, pipsqueak, spit roasting, pnp/pwp, afab!reader, hair pulling, low key subspace description, squirting ♥️

The wet plap plap plap of skin meeting skin echoed throughout the room, the sound of your accompanying moans muffled by Caleb's dick in your throat.

Not that you were really complaining.

Rafayel whimpers into the skin at the nape of your neck, much to Caleb's amusement. He was sat in a chair, overlooking the pair of you.

"look at our little fishie, fucking you so well..." He muses, swallowing a groan when you tease at the slit on his tip. You were so diligently doing as told, your lips reverently wrapped around his length.

"slow down, raf, i wanna hear her whine a bit."

It takes a few moments before rafayel obeys, his hips slowing their rythmn. Any protests you were about to spew are silenced by caleb grabbing a fist full of your hair and pushing you down onto his length.

You nearly gag around him, eyes watering as you struggle not to. Rafayels pace is torturously slow now, nowhere near enough to be satisfying to either of you.

Rafayels further gone than you, though. He's practically nonverbal, panting against your skin and occasionally letting out a moan. He turns his pleading eyes towards Caleb,

"is this enough yet? Can i speed up again? Just wanna feel good... Wanna make our princess feel good."

His words are nearly whiny, and caleb pretends to consider it. Finally letting you up to breathe, he replies,

"nah. Keep going like that awhile longer, you both look too pretty when you cry."

"but caleb-!"

"ah!" He tuts, cutting off any pleading you were about to do.

"your mouth should be too busy to speak, hm?"

You grumble in frustration, but a stern look from him has you shutting up and going back down on him. He tastes salty on your tongue, his abdomen flexing as you tease at his most sensitive spots.

Rafayels fingers wander, under Caleb's watchful eye, reaching for your clit. The man looming over you both doesn't say anything, so he starts to rub sticky circles in an effort to offer you a little relief.

"there you go, cutie... Doing so good, yeah?" He whispers his praise against your skin, soft and sweet. His fingers take the littlest edge off your burning want, but you still needed more.

"if you're gonna do that, fishie, then fuck her harder. Make her cream for me, yeah?" Caleb tacks the last part on like a suggestion, and yet you both knew it wasn't.

In this scenario, what he says goes.

Rafayel immediately picks up the pace, trying not to cum in you too quickly, but the way you're clenching around him has him letting out a pathetic whimper.

Your own voice lets out similarly weak sounds, garbled around calebs cock as he watches the show. Soon your too dumb to even suck him off properly.

"hm? Is my pipsqueak going stupid already..?" Caleb teases, grabbing a hold of your hair and yanking it meanly. A trail of spit connects your open lips to his tip as he pulls you off.

You're fighting against the pleasure of rafayels desperate ruts to keep your eyes open. Calebs grip forces you to make eye contact, and he chuckles lowly at the sight.

"harder, fishie. She's already goin' dumb." He tuts.

Rafayel shakes his head, already on the brink of an orgasm himself. "Can't... Can't, s' too much!"

He whines when you clench down around him, but caleb only clicks his tongue. he doesn't press the matter, watching as rafayel starts to lose his grip.

When he inevitably cums before you do, his eyes are watering as he apologizes. He's slowing down, but Caleb chides him.

"who said you could stop? Keep going."

So rafayel fucks you through his overstimulation, salt water tears staining your back as he desperately rubs at your clit, begging for you to release.

"please, cutie, need it... Please please please -"

Your clenching around him, slick dripping onto the ground as rafayel quickly works you towards that high. You're moaning, who's name? You're not even sure anymore. Too far gone to care, really.

Everythings muffled, you're floating as you submit to the pounding from behind. Every time raf hits your sweet spot, you claw and grasp at calebs thighs, desperately trying not to fall too deep.

Caleb lets out a low whistle as your body starts to convulse, your orgasm ripping through you. A combination of your cum and rafayels coats rafayels cock, a ring forming around the base.

Your vision blanks out from the pleasure for a few moments, rafs desperate fingers leave your clit and his length slips out with a distant sound.

Your head feels like it's filled with cotton, but through your daze you can hear both men cursing.

"holy shit..."

"did she just..?"

"didn't know you could do that, pipsqueak."

Calebs impressed face is looking down at you, and through your haze you turn to look at raf behind you.

From his navel down to his thighs, he's absolutely coated in what you can only assume is your release.

Did you just...?

Rafayel looks just as hazy as you, but caleb lets out another appreciative sound.

"looks like we've got a squirter, after all."

Tag list:

@ephemeralapotheosis @pixieskie @perfectlyrainycherryblossom

[ghostgirl-22]

Hiii ik you’ve heard this before but you literally write the yummiest Artrick smut!! Their dynamic is sooo good

I was thinking about Art and Patrick trying frotting for the first time? Maybe they’re dry humping and then Art’s really getting desperate and Pat suggests they do it skin-to-skin? Penny for your thoughts!!

I thank you anon! I love you and I apologize for getting to this so late <33

CW: 18+, NSFW, Patrick my little pining baby.

—-

I think it’s Patrick’s birthday some random Thursday night in January and Patrick makes Art come out with him on the day because he’s gonna celebrate with Tashi on the weekend. Art’s in a bad mood at first. He tries to pretend he isn’t but Patrick knows he’s still annoyed that Patrick has her.

“I can’t stay out late.” Art says coolly. “So if you want a real celebration with me… maybe you shoulda went out to eat with her midweek instead.”

“You want to come out to eat with us this weekend?” Patrick smirks, rubbing his back. “Just a romantic dinner. Me, my girlfriend and my best friend. Probably the most romantic thing ever.”

“Fuck off,” Art shrugs him away. They’re going to a frat party. Art knows one of the frats has insane parties every night of the week which Patrick says is pretty impressive.

“Only reason to join that frat is if you plan to take at least five or six years to graduate from a four year program.” Art says, judgmentally. “Actually, it’s probably what you’d pledge if you went here.”

Patrick lets him be bitchy and goes to get them both drinks. As Art gets tipsy he starts to loosen up. He’s getting drunk on Jell-O shots. His lips turning red and his cheeks flushing. His eyes go all moon shaped when he’s giggly. Patrick is a little obsessed, wants to make him giggle more. They get drunk enough to dance. Both of them dancing together and then dancing with various college girls. Patrick avoiding it when one of the girls leans in to kiss him. She kisses Art instead before her friend grabs her. They both giggle with each other and run to get more shots.

Art’s looking after them dazed and so drunk… Patrick grabs him away. They go to the dj table and request Apple Bottom Jeans for the third time and everyone cheers when it comes back on.

It’s dark and loud, strobe lights going off and Patrick realizes how drunk Art is when they’re on the sofa and he’s leaning on Patrick, nibbling at his throat. Patrick feels warm, hot even, he tangles his fingers into Art’s golden curls to keep him there. “I wanna lie down,” Art sighs in his ear after a minute. Which leads to Patrick guiding him upstairs in the frat house, the bass from the music thrumming through the house even though it’s much quieter upstairs. There’s a couple making out in the hallway. Some girls hooking up in the the bathroom tub while another girl is dozing off on the toilet seat.

Patrick finds an empty room and Art falls onto the bed. Patrick shuts the door and crawls on the bed, lying down next to him and before he realizes what’s happening Art climbs on top of him. “‘M so horny,” he groans, eyes half closed, dizzy drunk and barely aware of what he’s doing. Patrick is immediately hard. He thought he knew everything about Art but this is fucking new. Art is humping him through the fabric of their jeans, grinding, rutting, like a fucking animal in heat. Breathing hard, moaning loudly, chasing his orgasm. It’s so fucking hot.

”Oh fuck,” Patrick breathes. “Holy shit.”

“Mm wanna come Patrick, please. I need it.” Art whines.

“Fuck, mmkay. Come here… maybe we need… need more friction.”

”mm, yeah, please,” Art gasps.

“Yeah? Let’s…” Patrick grabs at Art’s zipper, swallowing hard. He’s had weird dreams about fucking Art for quite some time, weird wet dreams where he’s made a mess of him. So many dirty dreams this feels like deja vu.

But this is better than the dreams. Best fucking birthday ever. He’s easing it out of Art’s boxers. He’s seen it of course. When he didn’t need anything in his head to make himself cum… just the sight of the messy blond boy on the bed across from him spilling it too quickly all over himself. Always dazed by it. It was enough to send Patrick into the stratosphere, every fucking time.

And now he’s touching it, gripping it. Swollen purplepink, and heavy. He undoes his own pants. Art’s thrusting into his fist, eager. Hips rolling.

“Skin to skin, gonna feel so good,” Patrick mumbles, it’s nonsense. He’s half out of his mind. He takes hold of his own cock, lined up along Art’s and starts fisting them both. Art on top of him, the only sound is the endless thumping of the music, the squeaking of the bed inline with their hips rocking, and the breathy moans spilling from their mouths.

“Oh fuck. Oh yes,” Art whispers. He has his eyes closed but Patrick can’t stop staring at him. Lips parted, chest heaving, face flushed, hair falling into his eyes, clothes all disheveled. He’s leaning back, palms resting on Patrick’s thighs so he can thrust his cock mindlessly up against Patrick’s. So hot Patrick might die. And then, as always, it’s taking him by surprise. Come spurting out of him, covering Patrick’s fingers, his t-shirt. He’s whining and moaning and gasping “Fuck… oh fuck…yes…”

Patrick’s not far behind him. His fist now coated in jizz he’s gripping them both tighter, fisting them faster. Art’s making these breathless little “oh” noises, so delicious it makes Patrick shiver and then he’s seizing up, his balls tightening as he spills hot sticky strings of pearly come all over his palm, Art’s jeans and his own t-shirt.

“God it’s so fucking hot, you’re so fucking hot….” Patrick whispers, breathlessly as Art settles sleepy onto his chest. Patrick wipes his dirty palm on the bed and ponders vaguely the poor frat boy who’s gonna be taking this blanket to the laundromat. He kisses Art’s mouth, the way he’s always wanted to, and Art sighs into it. He’s got the hiccups all of a sudden, little ones escaping between kisses which is actually kinda fucking adorable. Art rolls off of him eventually, curling up on his side. “Need to…*hiccup*… so sleepy.” He mumbles.

Patrick sighs, looking up at the ceiling as Art starts to drift off. They’ve been drunk as fuck before, even spooned in bed together, but never like this. He’s not sure what just happened but he thinks he’ll go crazy if Art has no memory of it when he wakes up.

[pedroscowgirl]

Under surveillance

Derek Morgan x fem!reader ft. Aaron hotchner

MASTERLIST Warnings!: smut so minors DO NOT interact Unprotected p in v (wrap it up), Voyeurism (?) Degradation, Spanking, power dynamics, Aaron is cucking, creampie lmk if i forgot something! wc: 0.7k (it's a short one sorry) Summary: Fucking Derek in the interrogation room and aaron is watching

A/n: A quick drabble while i break my brain over my professor lupin fic. I hope you like it and i have some ideas for maybe a second part but idkk. I'll see how this one goes :')

The walls of the FBI interrogation room were cold. The dim fluorescent light above flickered slightly, casting shadows across the room. The metal table had been shoved aside, chairs abandoned—because they weren’t needed for what was happening now.

Morgan had you pressed up against the two-way mirror, your palms splayed against the cool glass, your breath fogging up the surface with every exhale. His broad frame was firm against your back, his strong hands gripping your hips as he moved against you, controlling you completely.

“You sure about this, baby?” Morgan murmured against your ear, voice dark and teasing, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, gripping the glass tighter, your body thrumming with anticipation. “Yeah,” you whispered, barely able to get the word out. “I want it.”

Morgan smirked, dragging his lips along the curve of your neck. “That’s my girl.”

What you didn’t know and what Morgan absolutely did, was that Hotch was watching.

Had been watching.

On the other side of the glass, Hotch stood frozen, his normally composed expression betraying nothing—except for the dark fire burning behind his eyes. He had suspected something was going on between you and Morgan, had seen the way the two of you moved together in the field, the stolen glances, the way Morgan’s hand always lingered on your lower back.

But this?This was something entirely different.

His fists clenched at his sides, his breath slow and measured. He should stop this. Should have left the moment he saw you spread open against the mirror, Morgan’s hands guiding you exactly where he wanted you.

But he didn’t.Because he couldn’t. And of course Morgan knew Hotch was watching. And that only made him rougher with you.

“Keep your eyes on the glass, sweetheart,” Morgan murmured in your ear, grinning at his own reflection because he knew exactly what he was doing. “Wanna see yourself. Wanna see how fuckin’ pretty you look while I ruin your pussy.”

A shudder ran through you at the filth in his voice. “Morgan…”He clicked his tongue. “What did I tell you?” You swallowed hard. “…Agent Morgan.” “Good girl.”

Hotch let out a slow, measured breath, his fingers flexing at his sides. He told himself it was to monitor the situation, to assess what was happening, but deep down, he knew better.

His pulse was hammering. And his breath was uneven. And the worst part? He was so hard.

“You wanted this, huh?” Morgan taunted, his hands gripping your waist, pushing you harder against the glass. “Wanted to be fucked in here like a naughty little thing?” You gasped, fingers slipping against the mirror as your body jolted from the force.

Hotch’s breath hitched.

Morgan leaned in, his voice thick with amusement. “Bet Hotch is watchin.” His lips brushed your ear. “Bet he’s standing right there, wishing he was the one touching you.”

You stiffened, eyes going wide. “W-what?”Morgan let out a dark chuckle.You had no idea that Hotch was standing on the other side of the mirror, watching every single thing Morgan did to you, watching you fall apart under his hands. But when you realised, your walls clenched around him.

Morgan smirked, his hand sliding down your stomach, fingers ghosting over your skin. “Oh, you like that, huh?”

Before you could even process what was happening, his palm cracked against your ass, a sharp, delicious smack that sent your head falling back against his shoulder. A muffled noise, something dangerously close to a groan, came from the other side of the glass.

Morgan’s grin widened, his dark eyes locking onto his own reflection, knowing exactly what Hotch was doing.

“C’mon, Hotch,” Morgan murmured, voice thick with smug dominance, knowing the older man had been silent for too long. “Say somethin’ to her.”

There was a beat of silence.

And then—Hotch’s voice crackled through the interrogation room’s intercom. "You're such a good girl."

Your entire body tensed, a whimper escaping your lips. The sound of his voice—low, dark, controlled, but dripping with need, hit you like a shockwave, sending you spiralling over the edge before you even realized what was happening.

Your nails scratched at the mirror, back arching, mouth open in a silent cry as you came undone completely.

Morgan cursed under his breath as he felt it. Felt the way you clenched even harder around him at the sound of your boss's voice.

Hotch exhaled sharply, his hand gripping the front of his jeans, fingers pressing into the fabric, a quiet, restrained groan vibrating in his chest.

Morgan grinned, watching the wrecked expression on your face in the mirror after he came inside you. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to your shoulder. “You did so well for us.”

[callsigns-haze]

A big bang (sneak peak)

Summary: Jake asks Bradley to help unpack and not everything goes as planned, especially for your plates.

Warning: Nothing much in fairness maybe language?

Authors note: I haven't wrote much for these two in ages and I miss them too much to not post for them again!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

English is not my first language so I apologies for mistakes

Could be read alone or as part of the little life universe

You adjusted Ellie against your hip as you stepped out of the bedroom, making your way down the hall. The faint sound of Rooster’s voice, followed by Jake’s unmistakable groan of frustration, drifted up the stairs, confirming that whatever had smashed earlier was definitely their fault.

Ellie gurgled against your shoulder, her tiny fingers grabbing a fistful of your sweater as you started down the stairs. You moved carefully, still a little unsteady from being sick, but determined to see what disaster awaited you.

As you reached the bottom, the scene in the living room came into view. Jake and Rooster stood frozen near the kitchen, surrounded by a mess of broken ceramic pieces and what looked like the remnants of a picture frame scattered across the floor.

Rooster was the first to spot you. “Oh, hey, corpse,” he greeted casually, as if he wasn’t standing in the middle of a crime scene. His eyes flickered to Ellie, and he grinned. “Hope this one doesn’t inherit either of your coordination skills.”

You raised an eyebrow, shifting Ellie higher on your hip. “Do I even want to know what happened?”

Jake let out a heavy sigh, running a hand down his face. “Rooster happened,” he grumbled. “Tried to ‘help’ move one of the boxes, tripped over thin air, and sent it flying into the wall.”

“It was not thin air,” Rooster defended, crossing his arms. “There was… something there.”

Jake shot him an unimpressed look. “Yeah, it’s called your own two feet.”

You pressed your lips together, fighting the urge to laugh as you glanced down at the mess. “So, what exactly broke?”

Jake exhaled, looking more annoyed than anything. “Just a frame. And one of the plates from your mom.”

You winced. “One of the nice ones?”

Jake’s silence was answer enough.

You sighed, rubbing Ellie’s back as she started to squirm. “Well, that’s great. Really great.”

Rooster coughed. “In my defence, I—”

Jake cut him off with a sharp look. “There is no defence, Bradshaw.”

You shook your head, suppressing a laugh. “Just… clean it up before Ellie decides she wants to crawl through it.”

Jake gave you a tired salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Rooster grinned, nudging Jake with his elbow. “See? She is the boss.”

Jake groaned, bending down to start picking up the mess, while you just shook your head, already knowing this was far from the last disaster these two would cause.

You adjusted Ellie on your hip, bouncing her lightly as you stared at the mess on the floor. With a sigh, you looked up at Jake, suspicion creeping into your voice.

“Wait… were they the pretty black plates my mom gave me?”

Jake froze mid-reach, clearly debating whether or not lying was an option here. Rooster, on the other hand, had no such filter.

“Yup,” he answered immediately, nodding. “Smashed right into the wall. Shattered on impact. It was actually kinda impressive—”

Jake smacked him on the arm, shooting him a glare. “Dude.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply through your nose. Ellie let out a little gurgle, oblivious to the silent devastation unfolding in your chest.

“You broke my favourite plates?” you said, opening your eyes to glare at them both.

Jake sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was an accident, darlin’. I swear, I was nowhere near it. Bradley was the one who—”

Rooster threw his hands up. “Okay, technically, yes, but in my defence—”

“There is no defence!” Jake shot back, exasperated.

You groaned, shifting Ellie to your other arm. “Jake, those were special. My mom gave them to us when we moved in together.”

Jake softened, stepping toward you with his hands up in surrender. “I know, sugar, I know. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll find a replacement.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think you’re gonna find handmade black ceramic plates that my mom had custom-made for us? Where, Jake?”

Rooster cleared his throat. “Etsy?”

You shot him a glare so sharp that he took a step back.

Jake sighed, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I really am sorry, darlin’. You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to them if I could help it.”

You huffed, shifting Ellie again as she started to gnaw on your shoulder. “You owe me for this, Seresin.”

Jake smirked, leaning in closer. “I always owe you, sweetheart.”

Rooster made a gagging noise. “God, you two are disgustingly domestic.”

You rolled your eyes, waving them both off. “Just clean it up before I change my mind about forgiving you.”

Jake chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before turning back to the mess. Rooster grumbled under his breath but joined in, and you just shook your head, still mourning your poor, beautiful plates.

[03jyh23]

✋🏻⌇touch part two┆choi san

│part of goes to waste the series based on my favourite keshi songs

│listen here

│part one

non-idol!san x fem!reader

│synopsis: you and san had always been the best of friends, but a single kiss changed everything.

│genre: friends to lovers, smut with some plot, a tiny bit of angst

│trigger warnings: explicit sexual content (consensual and unprotected sex, thick san, oral sex (both receiving), mentions of cum, neck kissing, and biting), mentions of infidelity (not between san and the reader), adult themes, strong language

│words: 5.1 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there my lovely people! yeah, i'm well aware that it's been like 6 months since i posted the first part but i count on your forgiveness ✋🏻😔 nonetheless hope you guys will enjoy it🙂‍↔️

love, mon ♡

It was late Saturday night. San had just returned from his gym session, preparing some protein shakes when the doorbell rang catching him off guard. He paused the music playing loudly on the speakers and went to open the door.

He unlocked the door only to have you wrap yourself around him in a second. "Hi—" he wanted to greet you, but your lips were already on his, and like a fool, he gave in. You stumbled backward into his apartment, not breaking the kiss as San kicked the door shut behind you. His hands found your waist, steadying you as you both moved through the apartment. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering traces of the gym filled your senses. You pressed yourself closer to him, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hands roamed your back. The intensity of your need for him was overwhelming, drowning out any thoughts of what had led you here tonight. San pulled back slightly, his brown eyes searching yours with concern.

"Hey—" he tried to speak again, his voice gentle, but you silenced his words with another passionate kiss, your lips urgently seeking his as you pressed closer, desperately fighting for him to match your intensity and reciprocate the kiss. San's back hit the wall as you pushed him against it, desperate to keep him close to you.

He grasped your hips and pushed you back gently so he could finally speak. "Y/N, wait," he said firmly, his breath slightly ragged. "What's going on? Talk to me." He held you at arm's length, searching your face for answers. You tried to avoid his gaze as your trembling fingers worked to untie the drawstring of his grey sweatpants, your movements betraying your desperation. Before you could pull them down past his hips, San's strong hand caught your wrist. In one swift, fluid motion that left you breathless, he reversed your positions, pressing your back against the cold wall, the sudden chill sending shivers down your spine.

The abrupt change in position made you gasp audibly, your heart thundering against your ribcage as San skillfully pinned both your hands above your head, his grip unyielding yet careful not to hurt you. The warmth of his body contrasted sharply with the cool wall behind you, making you acutely aware of every point where your bodies touched.

"I said wait," he growled softly, his voice low and commanding, his face mere inches from yours. His warm breath ghosted across your lips as he spoke, "I need to know if you're okay?"

"San please no talking, just fuck me," you pleaded breathlessly, your voice carrying notes of both desperation and vulnerability.

San's expression softened slightly at your plea, but his grip remained firm. "Not like this," he murmured, "You're hurting, and I won't take advantage of that." His thumb traced small circles on your wrist as he held your gaze, silently asking you to trust him enough to open up.

Your breath hitched at his words, and you leaned forward, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "Then let me take advantage of you instead." Your hands strained against his grip as you pressed your body closer to his.

San's breath caught, his grip on your wrists tightening momentarily as he processed your words. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he fought to maintain his control. "Y/N," he warned, his voice rough with barely contained desire.

"Please, San," you murmured against his skin, your lips trailing down his neck. "I need this. I need you." Your words were punctuated by soft kisses along his jawline, each one a silent plea.

San remained still for a moment, his internal struggle evident in the way his body trembled against yours. Finally, with a resigned sigh that held both concern and desire, he released your wrists, his hands sliding down to cup your face. "We need to talk about this later," he said before capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You melted into it, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as San's strong arms encircled your waist, pulling you flush against him. The heat between your bodies was intoxicating, spreading through your limbs like liquid fire. His broad shoulders beneath your fingertips made you feel delightfully small and protected, while the firm muscles of his back flexed under your touch. The overwhelming awareness of his physical strength, the way he could easily overpower you yet handled you with such careful restraint, sent waves of warmth coursing through your body, making your cheeks flush a deep crimson. Your lips traced a path down his jawline, each kiss more desperate than the last. San tilted his head back, giving you better access as your mouth explored the sensitive skin of his neck. His hands found their way to your breasts, cupping them through the fabric of your dress as a soft groan escaped his lips. His touch was both gentle and possessive, his fingers kneading softly as you nipped at the junction where his neck met his shoulder. The sensation of your teeth grazing his skin drew a deep, throaty moan from him, his fingers tightening their grip on your breasts. Without warning, he lifted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as his lips crashed against yours in a hungry kiss. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he carried you down the hallway toward his bedroom, his muscular arms holding you securely against his chest. The feeling of his lips moving against yours, combined with the gentle sway of his steps, made your head spin. As you reached his bedroom door, San pressed you against it, his body pinning you in place as one hand fumbled with the handle.

"You're so beautiful," San breathed against your lips, his voice husky. "But are you sure about this?"

You nodded frantically, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Please, San. I need you. I need to forget everything else."

"Y/N," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck. "I don't want to be just a distraction."

"You're not," you gasped as his lips found a sensitive spot.

San pulled back slightly, his intense gaze meeting yours. "Promise me you won't regret this in the morning."

Instead of answering, you captured his lips in another desperate kiss, pouring all your unspoken feelings into it. San finally managed to open the door, carrying you into his darkened bedroom. He gently laid you down on his bed. His hands traced the curves of your body with reverent care, his touch setting your skin ablaze. The weight of his body pressing against yours made you forget everything else, just as you'd wanted.

Your hips jolted upward as his fingers traced along your inner thigh, a soft gasp escaping your parted lips. San watched your reactions intently as your mouth fell open in a silent plea. Your fingers clutched at his shoulders as his fingers went dangerously high, drawing a breathy moan from your lips. His fingers ghosted over your underwear, the light touch making you arch into him with a desperate whimper. San's other hand traced up your side, pushing your dress higher as his lips found yours in another searing kiss. His fingers traced up and down your clothed core with a teasing pressure that made your breath catch. Each slow stroke sent shivers through your body as he deliberately avoided direct contact with your most sensitive spot. You could feel the heat building as his fingers moved with agonizing precision, rubbing circles near but never quite touching your clit. The fabric between his fingers and your skin only heightened the sensation as he continued his torturous exploration. A soft whimper escaped your lips as his fingers pressed just a little harder, the friction of your underwear creating delicious pressure that had your hips lifting to meet his touch.

With trembling fingers, you grasped the hem of your dress and slowly pulled it upward past your hips, the fabric bunching around your waist. "I need more," you gasped breathlessly, San's warm hands joined yours, his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he helped guide the dress higher. Together, you worked the fabric up over your head. The dress fell forgotten to the floor beside the bed, leaving you exposed in just your panties, your skin flushed.

"God, you're perfect," San breathed, his eyes slowly trailing over every inch of your exposed skin. His fingers traced delicate patterns across your collarbone and down your shoulders, making you shiver. The gentleness of his touch contrasted beautifully with the intensity in his eyes.

"Please," you whimpered desperately, arching into his touch. "I need you so badly." San's breath hitched audibly as your trembling hands found the hem of his shirt, your fingers brushing against the warm skin beneath.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured against your neck.

"I want to feel you," you gasped, tugging at his shirt. "All of you. No more teasing."

He pulled back just enough to strip off his shirt in one fluid motion. "Like this?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours as he pressed his bare chest against yours.

"More," you pleaded desperately, your fingers trailing slowly down the defined ridges of his abs until they reached the waistband of his sweatpants. Your touch was both tentative and demanding as you traced along the elastic. "Please, San. I need more."

San caught your wrist, stopping you. "Not so fast," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of scorching kisses, "Let me take care of you first," he whispered against your heated skin, his hands sliding down your sides with deliberate slowness. His fingers hooked under the delicate fabric of your panties, slowly dragging them down your thighs. The cool air against your heated skin made you shiver with anticipation. San's fingertips traced teasing circles over your inner thighs, gradually working their way higher. When he finally reached your center, his touch was feather-light, barely ghosting over your sensitive flesh. A soft whimper escaped your lips as his fingers began tracing slow, deliberate circles near your clit, never quite making direct contact. The teasing motion had your hips lifting desperately, seeking more pressure. San maintained his torturously slow pace, his fingers moving in languid strokes up and down your folds. Just when you thought you couldn't take any more teasing, his fingers finally brushed directly over your clit, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. The contact was brief before he returned to those maddening up-and-down motions. Your breath caught as you felt one finger slowly press inside you. He withdrew just as slowly, only to repeat the motion with the same deliberate patience that had you trembling beneath him.

"Please," you gasped, your fingers clutching at his shoulders, "I need more."

At your plea, San's mouth replaced his fingers, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh before his tongue traced a long, slow stroke up your folds. His lips pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses against you, each one sending shivers through your body. His tongue moved with deliberate gentleness, flat and soft as it explored you with broad, languid strokes. You moaned as his tongue flicked teasingly near your clit, never staying in one place too long. He alternated between those gentle, flat strokes and more focused attention, his tongue becoming firmer as he traced patterns against you. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he moved lower, his tongue pressing carefully inside you before returning to those maddeningly soft caresses. The wet heat of his mouth had you trembling, his lips creating delicious suction as his tongue continued its relentless exploration. He took his time, drawing soft moans from your lips as he varied between licks and gentle sucking, always mindful of your sensitivity. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as his mouth worked against you with increasing intensity.

"San," you whimpered, your back arching as he found a particularly sensitive spot. His response was a low hum against your flesh that sent vibrations through your core. Your thighs began to tremble uncontrollably around his head, your fingers tightening in his hair as the tension built. Every stroke of his tongue sent electric shocks through your body, making your muscles spasm and twitch beyond your control. Your back arched sharply off the bed, your body moving of its own accord as waves of pleasure coursed through you. A loud, desperate moan escaped your lips as your legs clamped down around his head, your whole body tensing as you reached your peak. Your grip on his hair turned harsh, yanking at the strands as your hips bucked against his mouth. The intensity of your orgasm had you writhing beneath him, gasping his name between broken moans. San groaned against you, the vibrations prolonging your pleasure as your body shuddered through the aftershocks. His hands held your trembling thighs firmly, keeping you steady as you slowly came down from your high. When he finally pulled away, his curved into a smirk lips were glistening. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as his eyes locked with yours.

"You taste so sweet," he murmured as he crawled back up your body. His lips found yours in a passionate kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as his hands roamed possessively over your heated skin. You could feel his hard length pressing against your thigh through his sweatpants, his hips instinctively rocking against you, seeking friction as his kisses grew more desperate. Your hands moved to his waistband, tugging insistently at his sweatpants. San lifted his hips, helping you push them down along with his boxers. Your breath caught at the sight of him, hard and straining against his stomach.

With a sudden surge of confidence, you pressed your hands against San's chest, pushing him back. He went willingly, letting you guide him until he was lying flat against the mattress. You straddled his hips, your hands splayed across his chest as you leaned down to capture his lips in a heated kiss. San's hands immediately found your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as you rolled your hips against him. Without hesitation, you spat on your hand and wrapped your fingers around his length, drawing a sharp hiss from his lips. You stroked him slowly at first, your thumb circling the sensitive tip as pre-cum beaded at the slit. San's breath came in harsh pants as you lowered your head, your tongue darting out to taste him. His hands tangled in your hair as you took him into your mouth, starting shallow as you adjusted to his size.

"Fuck, Y/N," San moaned, his voice deep and gravelly with need. His chest heaved with ragged breaths as he watched you through half-lidded eyes, occasional groans and whimpers falling from his parted lips. Working in tandem with your hand, you gradually took him deeper, your tongue pressing flat against the underside of his shaft. Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked eagerly, drawing a deep groan from San's throat. His grip tightened in your hair as you bobbed your head, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn't reach.

"Fuck," San gasped as you swirled your tongue around his tip before taking him deeper again. "Your mouth feels so good." His hips twitched, fighting the urge to thrust up into your mouth. You hummed around him, the vibrations making his thighs tremble. As you tried to take him deeper, you felt your throat constrict slightly, causing you to pull back with a soft gag. San's concerned eyes met yours, but you simply caught your breath before taking him back into your mouth, more prepared this time. The sound of your slight choking seemed to affect him deeply, his cock twitching against your tongue. After a while, you could feel San's muscles tensing beneath you, his thighs trembling as you increase your pace. Your jaw began to ache from the repetitive motion, but the sounds San was making above you spurred you on.

"Mmm, fuck," San moaned breathlessly, his voice deep. "Your mouth is so perfect... so good for me." His words dissolved into a series of low groans and gasps, occasionally punctuated by your name falling from his lips like a prayer. You alternated between long strokes with your hand and eager sucks with your mouth, your tongue never staying still as it traced patterns along his length. His grip on your hair tightened almost painfully as his hips gave a sudden, sharp twitch. A strangled groan escaped his throat, his entire body going rigid as his cock pulsed against your tongue.

"Y/N, fuck," he breathed out heavily, his voice trembling with barely contained desire as he involuntarily bucked his hips upward, pushing himself deeper into the wet warmth of your mouth. "Please- you need to stop," he gasped desperately, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. "If you keep going like this, I'm not gonna last another second."

But you didn't want to stop.

You wrapped your lips around him once more, sucking him harder and deeper than before, your tongue tracing intricate patterns along his sensitive flesh. Your movements became more purposeful and intense as you hollowed your cheeks, creating a tight suction that had him writhing beneath you. His breathing grew increasingly ragged and uneven, his muscles tensing and relaxing rhythmically as waves of pleasure coursed through him. "Fuck, fuck, fuck" San's desperate moans echoed through the room, each one deeper and more primal than the last. You could feel him trembling beneath you, his thighs quivering with the effort to maintain control. When you finally released him, you did so with an excruciatingly slow, deliberately teasing pop that sent visible shivers through his entire body.

"You're fucking insane for this," San breathed, his chest still heaving as he pulled you up into a kiss. His hands gripped your waist possessively, fingers digging into your skin as he held you close. You rocked your hips against him, feeling his hardness pressed against you. The friction made you both gasp, your bodies moving together with increasing urgency. Your lips found his neck, trailing heated kisses along his jaw as his hands roamed over your nipples. San's hands moved with deliberate purpose, his fingers expertly teasing and rolling your sensitive peaks as his mouth found yours again. The kiss was deep and passionate, his tongue sliding against yours as you continued to grind against him. Your hands traced down his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath your fingertips.

"Need you," you breathed against his lips, reaching between your bodies to guide him to your entrance. "Please, San."

His hands tightened on your hips, helping to position you properly. "You sure?".

You nodded desperately, sinking down onto him slowly. Both of you moaned at the sensation, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you adjusted to his size. San's hands moved soothingly up and down your sides, his lips pressing gentle kisses along your collarbone. His cock stretched you more than you were used to, the stretch causing a slight burning sensation as your body adjusted to accommodate his impressive girth. The mixture of pleasure and discomfort had you gasping softly against his shoulder, your fingers gripping him tighter as you slowly took him deeper. San pressed gentle kisses along your shoulder, his lips trailing a soothing path across your skin as you adjusted to him.

"Can I move?" he asked as your face relaxed a bit, feeling your delicate movements against him.

You nodded against his neck, rolling your hips experimentally. The movement drew soft moans from both of you, "Yes," you breathed, "please move."

San's hands gripped your waist more firmly as he began to guide your movements, helping you establish a steady rhythm. His hips rose to meet yours with each downward motion, the angle allowing him to hit spots deep inside you that had your toes curling with pleasure. His mouth found your breast, tongue swirling around your nipple as you rode him with increasing intensity.

"Fuck," you gasped, your head falling back as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. Your nails raked down his chest, leaving faint red lines in their wake.

San's lips returned to yours, swallowing your moans as one of his hands slipped between your bodies. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles that had you trembling above him.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice deep and gravelly. Your movements became more erratic as the pressure built, your thighs shaking with the effort. San's free hand tangled in your hair, pulling you down for another passionate kiss as his hips thrust up to meet yours. Your rhythm faltered as San slipped out, a frustrated whine leaving your lips. Your hand quickly moved between your bodies, wrapping around his length to guide him back to your entrance. San groaned at your touch, his hips jerking forward as you positioned him properly.

San gripped your hips and rolled you both over, pressing you into the mattress as he settled between your thighs. He slid back into you with a deep thrust that had you gasping, your back arching off the bed. Your hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your clit as San set a relentless pace.

"Fuck, you're so perfect," San growled, his hips snapping against yours with increasing intensity. "Touch yourself for me. Want to feel you come around me."

"I can't hold back anymore," you moaned, your voice trembling. "San, please..."

San's mouth attacked your neck, alternating between gentle licks and sharp bites that sent electricity coursing through your body. Your breathing became increasingly erratic as he worked his way down to your collarbone, leaving a trail of marks in his wake. Your entire body trembled uncontrollably beneath him, every muscle tensing and releasing in waves of pleasure. Your walls clenched rhythmically around his length, drawing deep groans from his throat as you felt him twitching and pulsing inside you. Overwhelmed by the intense sensations, you moaned loudly as his name fell from your lips in a breathless cry. The overwhelming pleasure made your vision blur at the edges, your body arching off the bed as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

"Come for me," San commanded, his voice deep and rough. "Let me feel you."

"San... San... I'm- Fuck" Your words dissolved into a loud moan as your orgasm crashed over you.

"That's it," he groaned, "You're so fucking perfect." Your body shuddered with aftershocks as San continued to move inside you, his fingers dug into your hips hard enough to bruise as his own release approached, his breathing harsh and uneven.

"S-San, fuck, oh god, it's too much, fuckfuckfuck!" you cried out breathlessly, your fingers digging desperately into his flesh, making him hiss sharply at the pleasurable pain of your nails marking his skin. With a final deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, a moan escaping his throat as he came undone.

San collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as you both tried to catch your breath. His lips found yours in a lazy, satisfied kiss, your bodies still trembling with residual pleasure. After a moment, he carefully pulled out and rolled to the side, immediately drawing you against his sweaty chest. You could feel his cum dripping down your thigh as he pulled you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"Let me clean you up," he murmured softly, reaching for the tissues on the nightstand. After cleaning you both up thoroughly, San pulled you back into his arms, wrapping you in a warm embrace. You snuggled into his chest, feeling content and sleepy as his fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin. His steady heartbeat under your ear gradually lulled you into a peaceful doze.

You were startled awake by the sound of movement from the kitchen, the morning sun streaming through the windows and hitting your eyes. As consciousness slowly returned, you caught sight of the clock on the wall and felt your blood run cold. Fuck. You were supposed to be at Juyeon's in an hour. Panic seized you as you scrambled out of bed, frantically gathering your scattered clothes from the floor with trembling hands. You were halfway through pulling on your dress when San appeared in the doorway, holding a tray laden with fresh pancakes.

His expression shifted from cheerful to confused as he took in your frantic state. "What's wrong?" he called out softly, concern evident in his voice.

You shook your head, avoiding his gaze as you searched for your shirt. "I shouldn't have stayed," you muttered, your voice tight with anxiety.

San set the tray down on the desk, moving to intercept you as you continued gathering your belongings. "Y/N, please," he pleaded, "Just stay. Can we talk about... about what this means? What are we doing here?" The vulnerability in his voice made your heart clench painfully. Instead of answering, you surged forward and pressed your lips against his in a desperate kiss, effectively silencing his questions. When you pulled away, his eyes were filled with defeat. "Fuck," he whispered, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "You can't keep doing this to me. I'm not just some fuck-toy you can use and discard. I'm your fucking best friend—what are you running away from?"

You turned away, unable to bear the pain in his expression. Your hands shook as you grabbed your phone from the nightstand. His words made your chest tight with panic. Without looking back, you headed for the door, ignoring his quiet "Please don't run away this time."

"I can't do this," you muttered, more to yourself than to him. "I'm sorry, San. I just... I can't’’

"Wait," San called after you, "I love you. I've loved you for so long, and I can't keep pretending this doesn't mean anything."

The words hit you like a physical blow, making you stumble in your steps. Your heart pounded against your ribcage as his confession echoed in your ears. Everything you'd been running from, everything you'd been trying to avoid, crashed into you at once.

"Please," his voice was barely above a whisper now. "Don't leave. Not like this. Not again."

You stood there, frozen, as the weight of his words crashed over you. The confession hung heavy in the air between you. Your fingers trembled against the doorknob as memories of every shared moment, every lingering touch, and every meaningful glance flooded your mind. "Don't," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Please don't say that."

"Why not?" San's voice was quiet but firm. "Because it scares you? Because it makes this real?"

"Fuck you, San!" you snapped, whirling around to face him. "You don't get to do this. You don't get to make me the bad guy here!"

"Me? Making you the bad guy?" San's voice rose, anger finally breaking through his composure. "You're the one who keeps crawling into my bed and then running away like I'm your dirty little secret!"

"Because this is fucking messy and you know it!" Your hands were shaking as you gestured wildly between you. "We're best friends, for fuck's sake!"

"And that's exactly why this could be something amazing if you'd just stop being such a goddamn coward!"

The word 'coward' hit you like a slap.

"I'm with Juyeon," you said weakly, the excuse sounding hollow even to your own ears.

"Are you?" San challenged. "Or are you just hiding behind him because it's safer than admitting what's between us?"

Every instinct screamed at you to run, to escape before the walls you'd built came crashing down completely. "I..." The words caught in your throat as noticed the vulnerability in his eyes, the quiet hope mixed with resignation, made your chest ache.

"I can't keep doing this with you," San said, "Every time we're together, it feels right. You know it does."

"It's not that simple," you protested, wrapping your arms around yourself. "What if we try and it all falls apart? What if we lose everything we have?"

"What if we don't?" San took a step closer, his eyes intense. "What if we're missing out on something incredible because you're too scared to take the risk?"

"I'm not—" you started, but San cut you off.

"You are. You're terrified. And you know what? So am I. But I'd rather be scared with you than safe without you." The raw honesty in his voice made tears spring to your eyes. "Just tell me one thing," he said, closing the distance between you. "When you're with him, do you feel what you feel when you're with me? Does your heart race? Does your skin burn? Do you lose yourself completely like you do with me?"

Before you could think better of it, you crushed your lips against his, silencing his words with a bruising kiss. Then, just as quickly, you pulled away and practically ran for the door.

The cool morning air hit your face as you stumbled down the stairs of his apartment building, your heart hammering in your chest. San's words echoed in your mind, mixing with the ghost of his touch on your skin. You fumbled with your phone, hands trembling as you ordered a ride to Juyeon's place, knowing you were already late but unable to process anything beyond the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Give and Take 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Steve Rogers

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Steve and Charity

Summary: the women's shelter harbours a particularly suspicious character.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Hey, Steve,” Leanne greets him as the door blows shut behind him. The unusually windy day has him out of sorts. “Breezy out, huh?”  

“Yeah,” he does his best to tidy his hair. So much for that new pomade. He straightens the lapels of his jacket his tie swept over his shoulder. “Sorry, I’m late.”  

“Right on time.” She assures him.  

The door opens and blows back on its hinges. Steve turns as a flurry gusts in around the figure. Charity trips through and barely saves the box in her arms from overturning. Steve is quick to steady it, his skin tingling as he touches her tweed sleeves. She smiles at him with a thanks.  

“I’ve got some surprises,” she announces over his head, “it’s why I’m behind.” 

She’s breathless. He is too. He stays close. Do something, Rogers. She’s right there. 

“Can I help?” He asks. 

She bats her eyes at him and her full cheeks get rounder, “sure can. You're such a doll.” 

She hands him the box and he takes it without falter. It’s heavy but he won’t let her see that. He peeks at the hastily closed flaps, he can see something peeking in the small space between the cardboard. 

“There’s more in my car,” she says. “Lea, you mind if I leave my bag with you while I get the stuff?” 

“Sure thing,” the receptionist replies. 

Everyone likes Charity. She’s a bright spot even when times are tough. At the shelter, almost every day is rough. Of course, they don’t have to be there but they choose to be. Those who come seeking help don’t have that choice. 

Steve watches her swirl out and stares dumbly after her. Her beret is crooked, the bow of her blouse is half out over her jacket, and her pleated skirt catches the wind dangerous. Her full calves and the bottom of her thighs peek out at him with the rise in her hem. 

“What’s in it, then?” Leanne asks. 

Steve turns and clears his throat. He comes forward and leans the box on the corner of the desk. He squints as he pulls back a flap. He hums as he reaches in. 

“Tampons,” he takes a package out. 

Leanne laughs. Steve is slightly embarrassed but why should he be? Women need those things and that’s what they do here. Give women what they need. 

Charity returns again. She has a whole wagon of boxes behind her. She bounces in proudly. 

“Forgot I still had this thing in my car,” she beams. 

“I could’ve helped,” Steve snaps out of his daze and shoves the package back in the box. 

“Oh, no, all good.” 

“Where’d you get all this?” Leanne wonders as she taps the box with her pen. 

“Work! We did a promotional deal with a pharmacy and I was talking to the local owner. He donated all this back stock.” She explains bright, “just took a bit of convincing!” 

Steve hesitates. He could be convinced to give her anything. Still, the suggestion makes him uneasy. What did she do? 

“We can do some care boxes,” she declares. “I got some stuff to put it all in too.” 

“Oh, right, well, everyone else is serving dinner,” Leanne clucks. 

“I can help,” Steve offers. 

“Sure,” Charity agrees. “Is the back room free?” 

“Yeah, movie night’s in the rec room so just don’t go in there.” Leanne girds. 

Charity goes to drag the wagon forward but Steve blocks her. He sets the box of tampons on top. 

“Let me,” he insists. 

“Oh, Steve, thanks.” 

She remembers his name! His hand grazes hers as he takes the handle and she brushes by him. Her perfume, a discount brand that smells like cherry, wafts from her. He follows her through the heavy door she unlocks with the code and down the hall. 

They get everything into the backroom, slightly crowded by the shelves of toilet paper and cleaner. She tuts and looks around. “Hope you don’t mind working on the floor.” She’s happy enough to get down on her knees as she takes a box from the wagon. “I got some zip-up pouches. That way they can keep using them after.” 

She takes out one of the floral plastic pouches. He wonders if this was actually all given to her. He’d give her most anything but would a corporate shill really succumb to her so easy? 

He starts moving the boxes off the wagon then folds it up out of the way. He kneels down with her, padding him knees on his coat. He’s too boney to be on the floor. 

“Thank you for helping,” she says. “So, tampons, pads, lip balm, vaseline, lotion, body and face, soap, shampoo, toothbrush, toothpaste,” she goes down a pretty extensive list as she packs the first kit. “And I even got some chocolate truffles as a treat!” 

“Wow, that’s quite a haul,” he says and takes a striped pouch. 

“Oh, and there’s kids’ stuff especially for the youngins,” she says, “they get a puppy or kitten keychain too.” 

“So you... what do you do for work?” He asks, even though he knows. 

“I do communications. Mostly promotional events and all that.” She shifts onto her butt. Her hips look even wider as her skirt fans around her bent legs. “Boring. I’d love to work here full-time but a girls’ gotta pay the rent.” 

“Right,” he nods thoughtfully as he takes a tub of lip balm. 

“And you...?” She peeks up at him, “oh don’t forget, there’s little slots to tuck the small stuff.” She shows him the inside of a pouch. 

“Um, if you think your work is boring, mine’s... dull. Museum. I do tours mostly.” He answers.  

He likes his job but he’s used to people teasing. Well, he gets to look at art and cool relics and talk about it whenever someone happens by. He likes the renaissance ones with the fuller figures, they remind him of her. 

“No way! That’s so cool. Do you have anything about Letizia Borgia? I read an article the other day.” 

“Some, mostly artists but we have some papal stuff too,” his pulse evens out a bit. It’s easy to talk about his expertise. 

“And the Medicis?” She wonders. 

“I thought you were in communications,” he teases. 

She laughs and it blooms in his cheeks like fire. “Between everything, I do find some time for hobbies. Though I might lose a bit of sleep.” 

He chuckles, a little more tension slaking away. This isn’t as scary as he imagined. He’ll have something to report to the discord at least. 

 “Ha, yeah, tell me about it,” he grins. 

[revelboo]

Idk if you know this but wasps fucking. LOVE sugar and honey. Its what the adults usually eat iirc. Thats why Wasps usually go after bee hives (for multiple reasons, the bees become food for the larval wasps, its basically an all you can eat buffet, its also getting rid of competition, ect)

Anyways. All this to say: Waspinator finding the sugar/honey and being like "What. What is??? Smells weird, like antifreeze a bit. is it antifreeze?? (bc fun fact waaaay back in the day Antifreeze actually had a sweet taste that was super dangerous bc ppl would poison others with it so a bittering agent had to be added but like, i dont think that would be a thing for cybertronians so theyre used to mildly sweet antifreeze anyways-) Then he tastes it and is like OH FUCK YEAH LETS GOOOOOOO. But sadly sugar is SUPER BAD for vehicles like cars and stuff. So i imagine poor Waspinator goes on a sugar bender and then comes to like "Wha happun...." and hes aching and feels AWFUL, sprawled out in the barn, covered in christmas lights from someone else's house and SO much dirt and sand from like 6 different states and the human is just like "So. youre awake. Get up, i got the powerwasher. You're COVERED in dead bugs, youre not coming in my house."

Oh, I love this!

Worker Bee Pt 19

Waspinator x Reader

• Inhaling because you don’t have the energy to deal with his misguided ‘dating’ right now or even to try and figure out why he thinks that could ever work, you yank your hand out of his grip and he makes a noise of whining protest. But you can flex your fingers now even though they’re sore. Magic, alien bug spit. “Waspinator, sweetie. I have to report in to my boss and get some loan applications processed or I’m going to get fired.” And he’s just staring at you, head tilting. You’re pretty sure all he heard was ‘Waspinator blah blah blah.’ Right. “If I get fired I can’t afford food or my house.” That he’s pretty much trashed. “I’ll be homeless.” There’s a reaction, antenna back and wings buzzing. “You don’t want that, right?”

• “No,” he growls, wings humming and flaring out slightly. Because no one is taking little friend’s hive away. And you reach up and pat him on the cheek. ‘Great. So you just go watch cartoons, okay? And be quiet,’ you say, nudging him into the other room and he allows it, because you’re touching him voluntarily. Settling himself on the couch, he fidgets with the skinny control stick that makes the screen work like you’d shown him. Can hear you talking to someone else on the little screen he’s forbidden from touching. Why do you sound different talking to them? Venting in annoyance, he fidgets before slipping out of the hive to patrol. Too agitated at the idea of someone daring to try and take your home, his home.

• Somehow you manage to convince your boss that you’ve not been checking in because you’ve been deathly ill. Too ill to go to the doctor. At least, you pray he brought that lie. Catching up on loan applications, it’s a couple of hours before the quiet really registers. Maybe Waspinator is just being good. Watching cartoons. Teeth gritting, you can’t make yourself believe that. He’s got to be quietly destroying something. Or rooting up someone else’s azaleas to drag in your house to go with the other one. Dating. How are you going to explain to him that’s not happening?

• Roaming the property, his wings tuck close to his back against the cold. Heading through the trees surrounding your home, he moves in a widening spiral and vents softly when he leaves the trees and comes across a series of black boxes. That smell sweet. Circling one and toying with it, that scent is somewhat familiar. Sweet and cloying. Transforming he leans his upper body on the box and uses his mandibles to begin chewing through it to get to that delicious smell.

• Startling when you hear a boom, you inhale. Then there are several more in quick succession, you save your work and get up. Know the guy closest to you is a bit trigger happy, but if he’s shooting at skunks again and you have to smell a dead skunk for two weeks straight again, you’re going to- the house is quiet. Swearing, you run to get your boots and coat after realizing Waspinator isn’t in the house. Why would he go over there, though? The old man is coming out of the woods, face ruddy and wearing coveralls and slippers, a shotgun in his hands when you get outside into the snow. “Are you out of your mind?!” You scream at him, going with righteous indignation. And the old man hesitates but doesn’t lower the shotgun. ‘There’s a monster wasp. I saw it. Tore up my bee hives,’ he says, turning in a circle. “You’ve seen some whiskey. You even hear yourself? A monster wasp?” Feel bad as you say, trying to convince him he’s crazy to get him to leave. “Get the hell off my property before I call the cops!” And he’s scowling at you, insisting he saw it as you dig out your phone in threat and he starts moving. How much are bee hives? Because you’re going to owe him. Waiting until you’re sure he’s long gone, you head into the barn.

• Groaning and shivering uncontrollably, his head lifts when the hay he’d burrowed into is dug away from him. And his little friend has come to see him, eyes narrowed. “Waspinator’s frieeeend,” he drawls, feeling absolutely awful and jittery as he snares you with two limbs and drags you into the hay with him, curling his altmode around you, limbs grabbing on as you wriggle, screeching that’s he’s sticky. Very, very sticky. And feeling not quite overenergized, but close. Processor miserably buzzing as he rests his head on top of yours and curls tighter around your warmth.

• “Let go!” He’s back in his awful giant wasp form and he’s curling up like wasps do when they die. Is he dying? And he’s forcing you into a ball, legs drawn up to your chest as his thorax curls up. He’s humming now. Is he singing? Wait. Is he drunk? Arms now pinned to your chest, you can feel whatever he’s absolutely covered in sticking to you, too. Beehives. It’s honey. He’s covered in honey and dead bugs. And you are, too now. Why? Why is he like this? Legs shifting against you as he slurs ‘Waspinator’s little warm friiiiend.’ Wondering how long it’ll take him to sober up right as he makes a funny hitching noise and you’re thrashing to get away when he shudders and does it again. “Don’t you dare throw up honey on me-Waspinator! Don’t you dare!”

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