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cosmicporos · 1 month ago

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What Arcane characters would gift you for Christmas!

Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce

(Semi crack Drabble… sorry for going super long with Viktor’s and Jayce’s HCs. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH)

(Jayce is Hispanic in my hc :3)

ENJOY AND HAVE FUN LOVE YALL<3

Not proofread

JINX

Hear me out… the first thing she would plan to gift you are decorated safety googles.

As a matter of fact everything she gifts you is handmade!

She knows you love to spend time with her when she’s in her workshop and the extra spare of googles she had were pretty crappy…

“Ugh, these old things? Pfft, they look like they’ve been through a freakin’ explosion… oh wait, they probably have! We gotta get you a new pair soon toots!”

They’d be totally decked out! Lots of character as she calls it.

“Okay toots check it out! Maximum protection but most importantly! They got style!”

The googles themselves would be in her classic style, very colorful paint, cute little heart scribbles all around! And of course lots of glitter….

“"I mean, you've got to stay safe while causing mayhem, right? And hey, if we're blowing stuff up together, you'll definitely need these. Plus, I made them perfectly for you. No one else will have goggles like these... trust me!"

I totally see her adding little handmade jewelry from her gears and spare parts, would totally make you a belt or choker out of spare bullets.

She would totally panic on what to get you for Christmas. Like what if you suddenly hate the thing you’ve loved since the very beginning she’s known you???

Would end up both buying and making you something!

She’s make you something small but meaningful

“Okay Okay fine! You can open mine now. Just don’t laugh too hard Cupcake…”

You’d open the poorly wrapped gift to uncover a bright pink scarf she knitted you! The stitching is a mess.. there a hole’s through the project (no doubt a missed stitch) but in all honesty it so cute you feel like your heart might explode.

"Yeah, I know I'm not, uh, the best at this kind of thing," she mutters, scratching the back of her neck, "but I figured you could use something to keep warm... and, you know, 'cause it's winter. And... you're important to me."

Guys please tell her she did an amazing job PLEASE.

She would also totally buy you a pair of combat boots! Totally saved up for months in advance.

She loves the idea of being able to match and have a bit of her style on you!

Ekko

Just like Jinx (sobs) he’d also make something for you!

The first thing he’d give you would be a little sketch book full of drawings of you from random moments throughout your relationship he remembers oh so clearly.

"I've been working on it for a while... It's... it's just a bunch of drawings. I mean, not just anything. Stuff that made me think of you. Stuff we've done, or things I hope we do. I don't know, it just felt like the best way to show how I feel about... well, us."

Okay he would also totally make you matching jewelry (matching clock hand necklaces?)

You’d force him to take the hour hand since it’s shorter (heheheh little man)

Once you explain your reasoning as to why he should take the smaller one he sighs disappointedly…

"Okay, okay, I get it," he finally says, a little less playful now, his voice softening. "I guess if you want me to wear it, I can..."

Then, a grin creeps back onto his face as he adds, "But don't think I'm letting you off the hook with the minute hand. You're wearing that one for sure." He places the hour hand necklace around his neck, the smaller pendant resting there, and looks up at you with that mischievous gleam in his eye.

He pauses, holding up his necklace, "I'm still the one with the bigger job. You'll just have to keep up." A proud smug smirk now rests on his face.

Viktor

FUCK WHERE DO I BEGIN I LOVE THIS MAN

o k a y. He would just like Vi panic… not because he doesn’t know what to get you but because he totally is going Christmas shopping late… very very late.

As much as I would love to say he’d make some little invention to make your day easier and give it to you for Christmas I don’t see it happening.

Not because he wouldn’t do it but because he already does it all the time! A little example, you’re late for work often? A little robot that hits you with a plastic squishy hammer every morning at 7 am waking you up when he can’t!

He’d definitely want to make Christmas special, I see him buying you something and then doing something special for you too!

Christmas morning would be greeted with warm hugs and kisses along with an even warmer bowl of potato soup!

He wanted to make sure he perfected his mother’s Bramboračka recipe. It was a once a year meal him and his mother shared every Christmas day.

He’s not a good cook by any means… but this is the one dish he can make and oh boy can he make it.

"Don't expect perfection," he says with a small, self-conscious smile, as you catch him sneaking a taste of the soup. Viktor looks up, his gaze softening. "I hope you like it," he says, and despite his usual perfectionism, there's a quiet pride in his voice. You take a sip, and the rich flavors of mushrooms, potatoes, and herbs immediately comfort you, just like his mother's love must've comforted him all those years ago.

OKAY for the making gift he planned I see him commissioning something due to the fact a lot of his inventions lack aesthetics.

Specifically I see him commissioning a music box that functions as a a jewelry box as well! He would have loved to make it himself but he was worried he wouldn’t have gotten the look right.

"Do you like it?" he asks, his voice softer than usual, as if he's worried about the reception. "I had it made... I thought... it might remind you of us."

The detail was breathtaking-floral patterns etched into the surface, with tiny gears and delicate metalwork accenting the edges. The craftsmanship was stunning, and you couldn't help but run your fingers over the smooth finish.

you lifted the lid, and a gentle, lilting melody began to play. It was slow and sweet, a tune that felt timeless, and as you stared at the tiny figurines inside, your breath caught.

His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cane, his gaze flicking between you and the music box. "I commissioned it," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I had the craftsman use a sketch I made. It's how I see us... in my mind. How I feel when I hold you." He paused, his expression softening. "I thought... I thought you deserved something that would remind you of that. Of... how much you mean to me."

Jayce

Oh hon… Jayce would spoil you rotten.

I’m talking presents are overflowing underneath the tree.

You thought you lost your favorite piece of clothing? WRONG! He commissioned for more to be made in different colors and textures for you.

All the fragrances in the world he knew you would enjoy.

Cozy adorable pajamas we would give you Christmas morning so you could cuddle up drinking hot chocolate.

Spends Christmas Eve spoiling you and cuddling and being so tooth rottenly sweet.

It’s Christmas Eve, the scene was almost overwhelming. The living room looked like a perfectly curated holiday catalog-twinkling lights, a roaring fireplace, and, of course, an absurd number of gifts. Jayce sat cross-legged beside the tree, an excited grin lighting up his face as he handed you the first box. He had merely grinned, sheepish yet unrepentant. "What can I say? I got carried away?.”

"Open this one first," he urged, nearly vibrating with excitement. Inside was a bottle of an exquisite fragrance, the glass etched with delicate, swirling designs. It smelled divine-rich, warm, and entirely you.

"I figured you'd like that," he said eyes carefully watching everyone expression you make. You swear if he had a tail it would be swishing uncontrollably right now.

Christmas Day would be you spending Christmas day at his mother’s house!

(Listen I’m hc them as hispanic because for one HIS MOMS NAME HIS XIMENA… and two because why not :3 )

You have a great relationship with his Mother, she absolutely adores you and sees you as her daughter.

There’s lots of yummy food she’s prepared… perhaps too much for just 3 people?

Nonetheless, a pot of pozole, tamales de puerco and de dulce! And of course she made jayce’s favorite choco flan!

God she urges to to eat until you nearly pop! You have to undo your belt by the end of the night…

"Come, sit!" his mom insisted, pulling out a chair for you. "Jayce told me you've never had my tamales. That's a crime! Here, start with this." She placed one on your plate, her eyes twinkling.

Jayce sat beside you, his grin widening as you took your first bite. "Good, right?" he asked, nudging you playfully.

You could only nod, savoring the perfectly seasoned masa and tender filling.

Later in the evening, when everyone was too full to move, Jayce leaned over and slipped his hand into yours. His eyes were soft, his voice low as he said, "I'm glad you're here. This—" he gestured to the lively scene around you, "—feels perfect with you."

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airybcby · 7 months ago

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Daylight

( bllk boys as dads )

a / n — please i love these men a little too much. PREPARE TO BE SICK OF ME

content — aged up! characters, bllk characters x reader, fluff, children mentioned(obviously), character and reader are married, had randomized names given to me for the kids, went crazy with bachira- he's just so girl dad coded, let's act like the WC didnt FUCK kunigami up, idk what happened with the format on kunigamis sorry, isagi yoichi x reader, bachira meguru x reader , rensuke kunigami x reader

synopsis — just a few of the blue lock boys as dads :,)

✿.｡. “ and i can still see it all in my mind , ” .｡.✿

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ISAGI YOICHI

— have yall seen this mans dad? literally so supportive

— is at every single sporting event no matter what!

— has embarrassed both you and your son on many occasions

— doesn't understand this is a LITTLE LEAGUE soccer game

you didn't understand why children's soccer games had to be played in the middle of summer at the hottest time imaginable. while you were silently suffering from the heat, your husband was far too into the game going on. "Come on, Kazuki! Get in there!" Isagi's voice boomed across the field, startling some of the other parents. Your cheeks flushed with a mix of pride and embarrassment as you gave him a gentle nudge. "Yoichi, they're just kids," you whispered, trying to temper his competitive spirit. "Let them have fun." every game day was like this. isagi would get so intense over kazuki, who was spectacular for his age, that he would forget where he was for a bit. there were literally other kids sitting down and picking flowers, it was never as serious as your pro soccer player husband believed. Kazuki, his eyes shining with determination, managed to dribble past an opponent and take a shot at the goal. The ball soared through the air and... missed. Isagi groaned loudly, drawing curious and amused glances from the other parents. "Come on, Kazuki! You can do better than that!" Isagi yelled, his fists clenched. You placed a hand on his arm, giving him a warning look. "Yoichi, relax. He's trying his best." with that, the game was over. kazuki's team had still won 3-2, but you could tell that your son was disappointed in himself over the last shot. Kazuki ran over to you both, his face flushed with something that looked like embarrassment and shame. "You did great, Kazuki!" you said, kneeling down to hug him. "We're so proud of you." Isagi crouched beside you, ruffling Kazuki's hair. "You were awesome out there, buddy. I just got a little carried away. Sorry if I embarrassed you." maybe isagi got a little too into the games, but he always apologized after, it had become somewhat of a ritual at this point. " it's fine! did you see my super cool dribbling? uncle bachira taught me!!" yeah, your husband's enthusiasm got the better of him sometimes, but if there was one thing you knew for certain: kazuki couldn't be prouder of his dad and isagi couldn't be prouder of kazuki.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ BACHIRA MEGURU

— girl dad, girl dad, GIRL FREAKING DAD

— constantly doing your daughters hair

— you come home from work to find the both of them with butterfly clips in their hair at least 3 days out of the week

You pushed open the front door, feeling the weight of the day’s stress clinging to your shoulders. It had been one of those days at work where everything seemed to go wrong, and all you wanted was to collapse on the couch and forget about it all. As you stepped into the living room, you were greeted by a heartwarming sight that instantly began to melt away the tension that you'd felt in your shoulders. There, sprawled out on the floor, were Bachira and your daughter, Sora, both fast asleep. The room was a delightful mess of colored markers, sketchbooks, and an array of hair accessories scattered around them. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of Bachira with his hair adorned in a myriad of butterfly clips and sparkly barrettes, clearly the result of a spirited father-daughter play session. Sora’s hair was similarly decorated, her small hand still clutching a purple clip. Carefully, you tiptoed closer, trying not to disturb their peaceful slumber. As you knelt beside them, you noticed the soft rise and fall of their chests, their expressions serene and content. You reached out to gently remove a clip from Bachira’s hair. making precautions so it wouldn't get tangled in, but as you did, his eyes fluttered open. He blinked up at you, a sleepy but mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Hey there,” he whispered, his face adorning his usual childish grin. “Rough day?” You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah, but seeing you two like this makes it so much better.” Bachira sat up slowly, careful not to wake Sora. He pulled you into a gentle hug, his warmth and the familiar scent of him providing a comforting balm to your frazzled nerves. “We had a lot of fun,” he murmured into your hair. “Sora wanted to have a ‘beauty salon’ day. I think I’m her favorite customer.” Sora stirred beside you, her eyes slowly opening. She blinked sleepily at you both, then broke into a wide smile. “Mommy, you’re home! Look at Daddy’s hair! I made him so pretty!” You leaned down to kiss her forehead. “You did an amazing job, sweetheart. I love it.” Sora giggled, sitting up and wrapping her small arms around your neck. “Can we do your hair next, Mommy?” You laughed, feeling the last of the day’s stress melt away completely. “Absolutely. But first, how about we clean up a little and get some dinner?” In that moment, surrounded by the people you loved most, you knew that no matter how stressful the days could be, you would always have this beautiful, chaotic sanctuary to come home to.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ RENSUKE KUNIGAMI

— has always wanted to be a hero

— having his son made that dream become a reality

— will be playing in his pro games and points to the family section you and your son are sitting in

— plays his heart out for you two

The stadium was buzzing with excitement as fans filled the stands, the atmosphere electric with anticipation. You held your son's hand tightly as you made your way to the family section, both of you decked out in Kunigami's team colors. Your son, Haru, was practically bouncing with excitement, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of the massive stadium.

"Mom, look! There’s Dad!" Haru pointed eagerly towards the field, where Kunigami was warming up with his teammates. His hero, his dad, looked every bit the powerful and determined athlete he admired so much.

You smiled, giving Haru's hand a gentle squeeze. "Yes, there he is. Are you excited to watch him play?" Haru nodded vigorously, his face lit up with joy. "He's gonna score a goal today, I just know it!"

As the game began, you settled into your seats, Haru practically on the edge of his. The first half was intense, with both teams displaying incredible skill and determination. Kunigami was in top form, his presence on the field commanding and inspiring.

Then, in the second half, the moment you and Haru had been waiting for arrived. Kunigami received the ball, skillfully maneuvering past the defenders with a combination of strength and finesse. The crowd’s roar grew louder with each step he took towards the goal.

"Go, Dad! You can do it!" Haru shouted, his voice full of unbridled enthusiasm. Kunigami glanced towards the family section for just a moment, his eyes locking onto yours and Haru’s. You could see the fire and determination in his gaze, the unspoken promise he made to his son to always be his hero.

With a powerful kick, Kunigami sent the ball soaring past the goalkeeper and into the net. The stadium erupted in cheers, the sound nearly deafening. Kunigami's teammates rushed to him, celebrating the goal, but his eyes were fixed on you and Haru.

He pointed directly at you both, his expression a mixture of pride and love. You could almost hear the words in your mind: “This is for you. Your hero is here.”

Haru was beside himself with excitement, jumping up and down, waving his arms wildly. "Mom, did you see that? Dad scored! He did it!" You pulled Haru into a tight hug, tears of joy welling up in your eyes. "Yes, sweetheart, he did. Your dad is amazing."

As the game continued, Kunigami played with renewed vigor, his goal having given his team the boost they needed. When the final whistle blew, signaling their victory, the crowd’s cheers echoed around the stadium.

After the game, you and Haru were escorted down to the field to meet Kunigami. Haru ran ahead, throwing himself into his father’s arms.

"Dad, you were awesome! Just like a superhero!" Kunigami laughed, lifting Haru high into the air before bringing him back down for a tight hug. "Thanks, buddy. I told you I'd score a goal for you."

✿.｡. “ all of you, all of me, intertwined ” .｡.✿

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

i may write more parts for this, i really liked it!

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader fluff #blue lock x reader fluff #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #bachira x reader #bachira meguru #kunigami rensuke #kunigami x reader #bllk isagi #bllk bachira #bllk kunigami #★ · airybcbyy #airy posts #airy writes for blue lock

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zelikessalad · 10 months ago

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TERZO BBGGGG

IM SORRY I HAVENT POSTED IN FOREVER AAAAAAA 🗣️🗣️ i’ve just been drawing other stuffs and playing too much animal crossing and Alan Wake 😪😪 BUT HIIII HELLOOOOOOOOOO i missed yall :3c

AND HAPPY ECLIPSE DAY!!!! 💕💕

#art #the band ghost #ghost art #ghost fanart #ghost the band #ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #ghost bc art #the band ghost art #terzo art #terzo fanart #ghost terzo #terzo emeritus #papa emeritus lll #terzo #papa terzo

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unconventional-lawnchair · 2 months ago

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Everything is Blue

Barty Crouch Jr x FWB!Potter!Reader

AN: Are we really surprised? They are all I think about.

Summary: As things escalate with Barty he draws a line in the sand.

CW: Not proof read wrote this on my lunch break sorry yall :(, oxic!Mean!Barty, Toxic!Mean!Reader, Cussing, sexual themes and behaviors, Hair Pulling, rough handling, angsty, hurt no comfort, everyone's the bad guy, Remus being dragged into it (because I'm predictable), {If I'm missing anything please let me know}

WC: 4.9k

The door to Barty’s dorm scraped open with its usual obnoxious grind, the result of a half-hearted transfiguration after a particularly chaotic night. It was too big for the frame, but no one cared enough to fix it. Least of all Barty.

He tossed his satchel to the floor as he stepped inside, a cigarette already between his fingers. The other boys in the room froze for half a second before scattering like startled mice, clearly unwilling to stick around now that they’d heard your voice trailing in behind him.

“I just wish you wouldn’t talk about Remus like that,” You huffed, brushing past the discarded bag without a second glance. There was a sharpness to your tone, even as you moved to sit on Barty’s unmade bed. Arms crossed, you looked every bit the picture of stubborn indignation. “He’s a sweetheart if you’d give him a chance.”

Barty let out a low chuckle, crouching to strike a match against the ruined floorboards. He lit the cigarette with ease, shaking out the flame before tossing the spent match to the carpet and grinding it under his heel. “Hate to break it to you, treasure, but your dear Lupin’s just as bad as the rest of them. Just like your jock of a brother.”

You scoffed, a bitter sound that came with a roll of your eyes. “Jock? Oh, please. And you’re not? Beater.”

He barked out a laugh, straightening as he took a drag. “Touché,” He chuckled, exhaling smoke through the corner of his mouth. “But no need to get your claws out, pretty thing.”

“Don’t call me that,” You snapped, though there was no real heat behind it. You shifted, ready to get up, but Barty stepped closer, his grin growing sharper. Before you could fully stand, his hand pressed firmly against your shoulder, easing you back down.

“Not so fast.” He murmured, cigarette dangling between his teeth. His free hand brushed through your hair, a casual, practiced move that sent a shiver down your spine despite yourself. “All I’m saying, doll, is your precious Remus isn’t as innocent as you think.”

Your jaw clenched, and you glared up at him, determined not to let him see how easily he got under your skin. But it was impossible to ignore the way his touch lingered, the quiet dominance in the way he stood over you.

It was a cliche if anything; James Potter’s prim, polished sister sneaking off with the resident Ravenclaw bad boy. But whatever this was, it wasn’t romance. Not even close. It was something raw and messy, simmering with tension, much less control. And no matter how hard you tried to tell yourself otherwise, you didn’t hate it.

Suddenly, his grip on your hair tightened at the roots, the sharp tug forcing your head back and drawing a startled gasp from your lips. “Oh, but he does love putting on a show for you, doesn’t he?” Barty’s voice was low, taunting, his words dripping with mockery as he loomed over you.

The sting at your scalp sent a flush of heat coursing through you; equal parts anger and something more complicated. His gaze flicked to your neck, lingering on the faint marks still visible beneath the clumsy glamour spell you’d used to cover his handiwork. His lips curved into a smirk, satisfaction radiating from him as if he’d already won some unspoken battle.

“You’re so predictable,” He cooed, tilting his head as if examining a puzzle only he could solve. His grip loosened slightly, just enough to let his fingers glide through your hair, but the dominance in his posture didn’t waver. “Tell me, doll face, how long are you going to keep pretending this doesn’t amuse you?”

You swallowed hard, your pride demanding that you glare back at him with every ounce of defiance you could muster. But beneath the tension, you both knew the truth- you were caught in his game, no matter how much you hated the rules.

Barty’s grip slackened, his fingers moving from your hair to cradle the curve of your jaw, but the smug glint in his eyes remained. His cigarette hung precariously from his lips, the smoke curling between you in a way that made the air feel heavier. He tipped your face up, tilting his head as he studied you, his smirk growing sharper when you refused to look away.

“Still playing the good girl, huh?” He chuckled, voice low and mocking as his thumb traced the edge of your cheekbone. “It’s cute, really. But I've seen too much of you to fall for it. You want this.”

“Shut up, Barty.” You snapped, the defiance in your tone wavering just enough to make him laugh- a deep, infuriating sound that made your stomach churn. He took the cigarette from his lips, flicking the ash carelessly onto the floor before tossing it into a forgotten corner of the room.

“Make me.” He challenged.

Before you could overthink it, your hands shot up, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down to crash his lips against yours. The kiss was rough, almost frantic, and any pretense of control he had disappeared the moment your nails dragged down his chest. His hands gripped your waist, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise as he pulled you closer, his teeth grazing your bottom lip in a way that made your breath hitch.

The kiss grew heated, messy, both of you lost in the intensity that always seemed to ignite when you were near each other. Barty's hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t get enough. For a moment, you forgot where you were, forgot the smugness that usually dripped from his every word. It was all consuming, fire and chaos in equal measure.

But then his lips trailed to the corner of your mouth, brushing there as he murmured against your skin. “Tell me, doll face, does Lupin get you like this? Or are you saving all the fun just for me?”

The words were like a slap. You shoved at his chest, hard enough to break the kiss, your eyes blazing with anger. “Are you serious right now? Merlin, Barty, you’re insufferable!”

He stumbled back a step, laughing as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly unbothered by your sudden shift. “What? Too close to home?” He taunted, his smirk sharp and infuriating. “Or are you upset because you know I’m right?”

You glared at him, your chest heaving as you tried to rein in your temper. “Right about what? You don’t know a damn thing about me, or about Remus!”

“Oh, I know plenty,” He shot back, his voice dropping to something dark, something mocking. He stepped closer again, his presence overwhelming. “I know you like the bad boys more than you’d ever admit. Your precious Lupin? He’s got that little edge you love, doesn’t he? But me-” He grinned, shameless and cocky, as his hand reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m the one who gives you this rush, doll. I see it every time you look at me.”

“Shut up,” You snapped, your voice trembling with anger. “You’re so full of yourself, Barty.”

“Am I?” He tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he studied you. “Then why are you still here, hmm? Why not run back to your safe little Gryffindor bubble if I’m so insufferable?”

You opened your mouth to fire back, but nothing came. He was right- damn him, he was right and he knew it. The realization made your skin burn, and the frustration bubbled over.

“Because I hate you,” You spat, though the words sounded hollow, even to your own ears.

Barty’s grin widened, and his hand trailed down your arm, his touch infuriatingly light. “Oh, doll, we both know that’s not true,” He murmured. “You might hate that you want me, but you don’t hate me.”

You clenched your jaw, every muscle in your body screaming at you to storm out of the room. But his hand slid to your hip, grounding you, pulling you back into his orbit. You hated the way his presence made you feel- like you were caught in a web you couldn’t escape.

“Why are you like this?” You hissed, your voice cracking slightly as you met his gaze.

His expression softened for just a moment, the teasing edge fading as he studied you. “Because it’s you,” He said simply, his voice quiet but no less intense. “And because I know you can take it.”

That quiet admission threw you off, and for a second, you faltered. He took the opportunity to lean in again, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a kiss. “Go on, doll face,” He murmured. “Tell me to stop.”

You didn’t. And before you could stop yourself, you were pulling him back to you, your anger bleeding into something just as fiery but far more dangerous.

Barty’s laugh rumbled against your lips, low and triumphant, his hands roamed your back, his touch both grounding and maddening. The kiss deepened again, the tension between you still sharp but now laced with something rawer.

But the moment was far from stable. Barty was never one to let things settle; it wasn’t in his nature. Even now, as his lips pressed against yours with an intensity that should have silenced his need for words, he pulled back just enough to murmur, “You’re addictive, you know that? Bet it drives Lupin mad.”

The mention of Remus again broke whatever fragile truce the kiss had created. Your fingers, which had been gripping the fabric of his shirt, pushed him back with force, your glare sharp enough to cut. “You can’t just keep bringing him up like that, Barty!”

“What, does it hit a nerve?” He shot back, his smirk creeping back into place as he took a step closer. He was relentless, infuriating, the kind of person who thrived on lighting matches just to watch the fire burn. “Or maybe it’s because you don’t want to admit I’m in your head more than he ever will be.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You snapped, your voice trembling with anger. “You’re nothing but a distraction, a-”

“Go on.” He interrupted, his voice low, his eyes gleaming with something almost dangerous. “Say it. A mistake? A regret? Is that why you keep coming back, doll? To fix it, or just to lose yourself in it?”

His words hit too close, cutting through your defenses in a way that made your chest tighten. You hated how easily he could read you, how effortlessly he picked apart the walls you tried so hard to keep in place. But you refused to let him win, refused to let him see how much his words affected you. You hated him.

“Maybe I’m here because I pity you.” You hissed coldly, lifting your chin in defiance. “Isn’t that why everyone keeps you around, Barty? Out of pity?”

For a moment, his smirk faltered, the sharpness in his eyes flickering into something unreadable. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by that infuriating grin as he stepped even closer, his hands gripping your hips with a possessive force. “Careful, doll.” He mumbled, his voice soft but laced with warning. “You might just hurt my feelings.”

You rolled your eyes, but your breath hitched as his fingers slid up your sides, his touch tight with nerve. “You don’t have feelings, remember?” You shot back, but the bite in your words was weakened by the way your body reacted to his closeness.

“Maybe not,” He admitted with a low chuckle, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “But you seem to like me anyway. Guess we both have our vices.”

Before you could respond, his lips found yours again, silencing whatever retort you had ready. The kiss was more intense this time, fueled by the anger and frustration that always seemed to simmer between you. His hands tangled in your hair, his body pressing against yours in a way that made it impossible to think clearly.

It was a cycle, a maddening, relentless cycle. Fight, kiss, argue, repeat. You knew it was toxic, knew it couldn’t lead anywhere good. But in that moment, with Barty’s lips on yours and his hands holding you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

As the kiss deepened, the anger began to ebb away, replaced by a heat that you both refused to name. Barty’s hands tightened in your hair, his lips moving with an almost desperate energy that mirrored your own. But beneath the passion, there was something lingering, something raw that you couldn’t quite place.

And then he did it again.

“Bet he wished he could touch you like this,” Barty murmured against your lips, his voice low and taunting. His words sent a shiver through you- not from the tease, but from the edge in his tone. “Your precious Remus. Always so bloody polite, isn’t he?”

You froze, your hands stilling against his chest as the realization began to settle like a weight in your stomach. His words weren’t just meant to provoke you; there was something behind them, something that bordered on venom.

Pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, you searched his face for a hint of the usual smugness that accompanied his taunts. But instead, you found something different; something sharp and defensive, hidden beneath the surface. “Why do you keep bringing him up?” You asked quietly, your voice steadier than you expected.

Barty’s smirk faltered, just for a fraction of a second, before he masked it with a scoff. “What, can’t handle the truth?” He shot back, his tone casual, but his grip on your hips betrayed him. It was firmer now, certainly possessive.

You narrowed your eyes, the pieces clicking into place. “This isn’t about Remus, is it?” You whispered, your voice softening slightly. “This is about you.”

Barty’s expression hardened, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t flatter yourself,” the edge in his tone wavered. “I just think it’s funny. You play the good girl for him, but you come running to me when you want to feel something real.”

“That’s not it, and you know it.” You hissed, your words cutting through his defenses. “You’re jealous.”

The word hung in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. Barty’s jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with something that looked a lot like anger- but you could see through it now. It wasn’t anger. It was insecurity.

“You think I care about what some bleeding-heart Gryffindor thinks?” He sneered, but his voice cracked slightly, giving him away.

“I think you do,” You said, your voice steady now. “You hate that he’s not like you. That he doesn’t play games, that he’s kind. He's real. And you hate that I see that in him.”

Barty’s grip on you tightened, surely bruising, his breath hitching as you spoke. “Don’t.” He warned, but it was too late. You’d already struck a nerve.

“You’re scared.” You continued, your gaze locked with his. “Scared that he’s better than you. That maybe- he’s what I deserve.”

For a moment, you thought he might push you away, his usual bravado crumbling under the weight of your words. But instead, he surged forward, his lips crashing against yours with a ferocity that stole your breath. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a fight, a desperate attempt to reclaim control, to prove something to both of you.

When Barty finally pulled back, his breathing was heavy, his forehead resting against yours. But the vulnerability that had flickered in his expression for a split second was gone, replaced with sharp, cutting arrogance. His grip on your waist was still firm, bordering on bruising, as if he were daring you to push him away again.

“You think he’s better than me, don’t you?” Barty murmured, his voice low but laced with venom. “Remus bloody Lupin- he’s exactly the kind of boy your perfect family wants for you, isn’t he? Polite, patient, so painfully good.” His lips curled into a sneer, the mockery in his tone unmistakable. “Bet he’d even ask for daddy’s permission to kiss you.”

You flinched, your jaw tightening as the words hit their mark. “Don’t bring my family into this,” You hissed, your hands pushing against his chest, but he didn’t budge.

“Why not?” Barty pressed, his eyes gleaming with something almost wild. “This is what it’s all about, isn’t it? You sneaking around with me because I’m the opposite of what they want. Because I’m the dirty little secret you can’t bring home.”

“That’s not true.” You snapped, though your voice lacked conviction. Deep down, you hated that he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“No?” Barty’s smirk widened, his hands sliding up your sides with infuriating ease. “Face it, doll, Lupin’s everything they’ve trained you to want. He’s safe. Predictable. Boring.” He leaned closer, if he only knew- his lips brushing against your ear as his voice dropped to a whisper. “But that’s not what you want, is it?”

You turned your head sharply, forcing him to meet your glare. “You don’t know what I want.”

“Oh, I do,” He murmured, his thumb brushing against your jaw in a way that made your stomach churn. “You want the thrill. The danger. Someone who doesn’t care what James Potter or the rest of your Gryffindor crew thinks.”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore how his words stung. “You think this is about rebellion?” Uou shot back, your voice trembling with both anger and frustration. “That I’m with you because I want to piss off my family?”

Barty tilted his head, his grin lazy and infuriating. “If the shoe fits.”

“Maybe I’m here because I see something in you no one else does.” You bit out, your voice sharper now. “But you’re too busy tearing yourself down to notice.”

For a moment, Barty faltered. His smirk wavered, and the confidence in his posture cracked just enough for you to see the insecurity underneath. But he recovered quickly, his walls slamming back into place as he gave a low, bitter laugh.

“Don’t waste your sympathy on me, princess,” He cooed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t need it. And I definitely don’t need saving.”

“I’m not trying to save you,” You sighed, your voice soft but firm. “But you keep pushing everyone away, and one day, you’ll push too hard.”

Barty’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening as he leaned in again. “And yet, here you are,” He murmured, his lips ghosting over yours. “Still coming back for more.”

Your throat tightened, the anger in your chest swirling with something far more dangerous. His words cut, his arrogance infuriated you- but you couldn’t deny the pull between you. And Barty knew it.

“Admit it,” He said, his voice soft but unrelenting. “I’m the one who gets under your skin. Not Lupin. Not anyone else. Me.”

You stared at him for a moment, and you saw it. The slight gloss to his eyes- he was pushing himself. Past what you've ever thought you'd see from him. You closed your eyes and took a small steadying breath. “Yes, you idiot.” You spat. “It's you.”

Barty froze. The smirk he wore like a second skin faltered, his sharp retort catching somewhere in his throat. For a moment, he just stared at you, as if he hadn’t expected you to admit it- hadn’t expected you to say anything at all.

And neither had you.

The words hung between you, heavy and undeniable. You could feel the weight of them pressing down on your chest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Barty didn’t have a comeback ready. His grip on your hips slackened, and his expression shifted, the arrogance slipping to reveal something far more raw.

“Say that again,” He muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a challenge there, but beneath it, you heard the hesitation- the flicker of uncertainty he was trying so hard to hide.

You swallowed hard, your breath still unsteady as you met his gaze. “It’s you,” You repeated, quieter this time but no less firm. “You’re the one who gets under my skin. And I hate it.”

Something in his eyes darkened, a mix of triumph and something he didn’t quite know how to handle. His lips quirked up into a smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You really know how to flatter a bloke, don’t you?” He drawled, though his voice was softer now, lacking its usual bite.

“Don’t,” You snapped, your frustration bubbling to the surface again. “Don’t twist this into some stupid game, Barty.”

“Isn’t it always a game?” He shot back, his smirk widening, though there was an edge to it now- one that betrayed just how deeply your words had cut. “You and me, sneaking around, pretending like it doesn’t mean anything. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”

“No,” You said firmly, your hands gripping the front of his shirt to steady yourself- or maybe to keep him from pulling away. “That’s your point. It’s never been mine.”

He stared at you, his jaw tight, his breathing still heavy. For once, he seemed at a loss, his usual cocky bravado slipping as he tried to process what you’d just said. And for a moment, you thought he might pull away, retreat into the safety of his defenses. But instead, he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours.

“You drive me mad, you know that?” He muttered, his voice low and raw, lacking its usual teasing lilt.

“Good,” You huffed, your voice equally soft but no less sharp. “It’s mutual.”

A quiet laugh escaped him, almost disbelieving, and he shook his head slightly. “Why do you keep coming back, then?” He asked, his tone laced with something that sounded almost like desperation. “If you hate me so much?”

“Maybe because I hate that I don’t hate you,” You admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Maybe because you’re the only one who doesn’t treat me like I’m fragile.”

For a moment, the weight of your words hung heavy in the air. Barty’s expression wavered, and you thought- just for a second- that he might let the truth settle between you. That he might lean into it, lean into you, and let himself admit that he felt the same pull you did.

Barty stood completely still, his eyes searching yours, his defenses cracking just enough for something real to shine through. Then, just as quickly as it had come, the vulnerability vanished, his smirk snapping back into place like a mask he wore far too well.

“Don't-”

“Merlin.” He muttered, stepping back, running a hand through his hair in an exaggerated motion of mock exasperation. “You’re really determined to make this into some grand love story, aren’t you?”

“Barty,” You started, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice, but he was already shaking his head, the teasing glint in his eyes turning sharper, crueler. He sat up off of you, pulling out a cigarette, you followed him up.

“No, seriously,” He interrupted, his tone light and biting, the edge of mockery unmistakable. “What is it you want, huh? A confession? A bloody sonnet? Should I get down on one knee while I’m at it?”

“Stop it,” You said sharply, stepping forward, but he just leaned casually against the wall, his cigarette dangling from his lips as though nothing you said could touch him.

“Why? Isn’t this what you wanted?” He asked, spreading his arms wide with a grin that was far too sharp to be genuine. “I mean, you’ve got me cornered, haven’t you? Time for me to spill my tragic backstory and tell you how you’ve ‘changed’ me. Is that it? Does that get you off, doll?”

You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you tried to keep your composure. “Why are you doing this?” You demanded, your voice trembling with frustration. “Why can’t you just be serious for once?”

“Oh, I am serious,” Barty said, his grin fading into something colder, more calculated. He straightened up, his posture lazy but his eyes sharp as they locked on yours. “I’m seriously wondering why you’re still here.”

The words hit you, a blow to the chest, but you refused to flinch. “You’re pushing me away,” you said, your voice quieter now, but no less steady. “That’s what this is. You’re scared, so you’re trying to scare me off first.”

“Scared?” Barty repeated, letting out a short, bitter laugh. “Of what? You? Don’t flatter yourself, doll.”

“Then what is this?” You demanded, your frustration boiling over. “Why can’t you just admit that this- us- means something to you?”

“Because it doesn’t,” He snapped, his tone ice-cold. He stepped closer, his smirk twisting into something cruel as he looked down at you. “You’re just a game, sweetheart. A fun little distraction. And now that the fun’s over…” He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over you with a deliberate slowness that made your stomach churn. “Unless, of course, you’ve got something else in mind.”

Your breath hitched, and your chest tightened. “You’re disgusting,” you said, your voice low but trembling with anger. “You really think I’d just-”

“What? Sleep with me?” Barty interrupted, his smirk widening as he leaned in closer. “Why not? That’s what this has always been about, hasn’t it? A bit of fun. A bit of danger. But if that’s not on the table…” He shrugged, stepping back and taking another drag from his cigarette. “Well, what’s the point?”

You stared at him, your chest heaving as you struggled to process the sheer cruelty of his words. “You don’t mean that,” You said quietly, but even as the words left your mouth, you could see the glint of triumph in his eyes.

“Don’t I?” He chuckled, exhaling a stream of smoke as he watched you with a detached amusement that made your stomach twist. “Face it, doll. This was never about anything real. You’re just upset because I beat you to the punch.”

“The punch?” You echoed, your voice shaking with disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You were always going to leave,” He said simply, his tone casual, almost bored. “Run back to your safe little Gryffindor bubble the second this got too messy. I’m just saving us both the trouble.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. You hated how easily and effortlessly he could tear you down with just a few carefully chosen words. And worst of all, you hated how much you still cared, even now.

“You’re a coward,” You said finally, your voice low and steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “You hide behind this- this persona because you’re too scared to let anyone see the real you. But guess what, Barty? That’s not my problem anymore.”

You turned on your heel, heading for the door, but his voice stopped you just as your hand touched the handle.

“Go on, then,” He called, his tone light and mocking. “Run back to Lupin. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to play the hero.”

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t. The tears spilled over as you yanked the door open and slammed it shut behind you, the sound echoing through the corridor as you stormed away.

Inside the room, Barty stood frozen, his smirk finally slipping away as the silence pressed in around him. He clenched his jaw, his hands trembling as he brought the cigarette back to his lips, inhaling deeply like it might dull the ache in his chest.

It didn’t. It never did.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #barty crouch fanfic #barty crouch jr x you #barty crouch x reader #barty x reader #barty crouch jr fanfic #bartemius crouch junior #Barty x potter!reader #Barry crouch jr x potter!reader #remus lupin x reader

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softcitrus2345 · 16 days ago

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Heeeeeeeeyyyyy ;;w;;

So I've been kind of MIA since.. early november, wow. It's been a LONG time lol-

I really missed posting here and interacting with you guys, but I honestly think I did the right thing. Soon after I began my hiatus, I got moved to full time hours at work (retail during the holidays is a NIGHTMARE.) and it basically became my entire life. I had no time in the day to do anything besides sleep, eat, work, and then maybe if I'm lucky, I'd spend an hour with my family before they all had to go to bed for school/work the next day. It was a really hard time for me mentally and I had zero time for anything besides keeping up with my basic needs and just. existing honestly.

For about a week now, I've been back to part time hours at work, and I feel like I've finally been able to breathe again. I actually have time in my day to be productive and dedicate some time to my hobbies again.. I missed drawing so much, I missed talking to my friends and mutuals and I missed the cozy little community I've built here with you all.. I've been wanting to post this for a few days but couldn't really figure out what to say, so I'm finally just gonna word vomit here for a bit

Even if I hadn't been able to create much the past couple months, I kept my little noggin full of ideas just bouncing around in there and I've been deep in the trenches of an Arcane hyperfixation since season 2 came out LOL It's kind of embarrassing but it's what's kept me sane these past few months, being able to just focus on a thing I like and analyze it and see all the cool stuff other artists and editors have done with it has been really refreshing and allowed me to develop a little creative backlog in my brain of things I want to make :3 I've never really been into drawing fanart but that changed FAST after I was exposed to the Horrors (Jayvik) and got the ultra mega hyper gay brainrot. Those two bastards are living in my head and REFUSE TO PAY RENT so yall are just gonna see me posting Jayvik slop for a while, and I am NOT SORRY HAHA THIS IS MY BLOG, I DO AS I PLEASE-

Also I'm gonna try to be less shy about other (COUGHBERRY) kinks I've been wanting to post here too, so erm. If you're not a fan of that jazz just mind ya business (respectfully)

Damien, Vanessa, Matt, and the rest of the gang will be back, I promise, I just wanna have some fun with my silly Hextech founders ok-

Happy 2025 everyone! More to come soon :3

#softcitrus rambles #softcitrus jayvik #softcitrus fanarts #niche blog

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shotmrmiller · 9 months ago

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Okay but, this is fun! (When I was a server? I wore short skirts, stockings and heeled boots. They let me wear them, I had no joy in my life. So? I dressed up my uniform to make myself happy at the sacrifice of my feet at the end of shift.) I don’t miss it but, I had fun as a server.

Running up to the bar and whispering to Johnny to ‘look at table 4’ because the lady sitting there is recovering from a bbl and has bandages *holding* her butt up. (True story)

Any bit of gossip, you beeline back and Simon’s already waiting like ‘wots happenin’ now?’

Making faces at Johnny as you take someone’s order to show you’re displeased.

Whining to Simon ‘it’s that guy who sends everything back to get it comped again!’ When he hears someone sent the wings back… *again*

Snickering openly as Johnny is stuck with 2 horny old ladies at the bar and making faces at him when the customers aren’t looking to mock him.

Standing with Johnny at the bar and quietly conversing. “Nae way, that’s her father’ ‘I’m telling you! Crusty dusty with his side dish!’

Quickly squeaking behind Simon when shit looks like it’s going to get real in a few seconds. ‘Oh, that local crack head is back- Simon! Great to see you!’ *quickly scoots behind him* and just like- ‘hi!’ And peaking around him like he’s a s.w.a.t shield

Having to shoo Johnny away from the food Simon made you- ‘yea left it unattended!’ ‘This is the only food I’ve had in the past 6 hours! Simon! He’s eating my food!’ ‘She lies!’

Going to Simon with puppy dog eyes when you can’t open a jar-

Johnny plonking his butt down in the booth you’re rolling silverware in and not leaving even when you try and shoo him away to tend to the bar- the boss is glaring at me! He’s getting mad at me! Move your butt before I get in trouble because of you!’

Price being the manager that lets you get away with murder. If it makes you happy? He’ll turn a blind eye as long as you do your job. That goes for the other two knuckle heads… with you around? Johnny’s not fucking the customer base as often, leaving less upset girls coming in and making scenes when he inevitably doesn’t call them back. And Simon is fighting less, taking less smoke breaks (saving them for later) and making more orders properly (so you don’t get flack for it) so, he’ll turn a blind eye to what they’re doing to you… not that he isn’t doing it himself.

Trauma bonding from the shit job makes you real close that it kind of- makes you ignore when they get too handsy? ‘They’re still the guys, it’s fine’

(Bistro Huddy is so accurate it’s painful…)

(Dubious *not really* consent: Being trapped in the out of the way supply closet in the far back where no one goes. Your shift ended an hour ago but, you’re stuck; bent over an old chair stored there. Price zips up his pants- before you can stand back up again Simon’s stepping in where Price is stepping out and pushing you to bend back over the chair again. -Johnny running in for a quickie whenever he can- By the time the guys close up? You’re sore, gaping, leaking, overstimulated, and sniffling. And they’re all drawing straws who get’s to take you home and ‘take care of you’ so you’ll show up to your shift tomorrow.…I can’t do nsfw to save my life… I’m sorry, lol)

(Thought of this at the end but, Server Gaz?)

I WANT YOU TO KNOW

YOU WRETCH (affectionate, oh so affectionate i could kiss you)

THAT THE LAST BIT

OHHH MAN IM SCRREAMINGGGGUH

chile. having to give your receipts and the 3% you owe to price always ends up with his spend soaking your knickers :/ he prob knows your body better than you do, clever fingers making you peak before he does because yall (he) doesn't have the luxury of time on yalls (his) side. (not the other servers banging on the door because theyre just trying to go home)

imagine running to kyle because he seems to be the only sane one. you tried to eat lunch with him that one time in the back but it ended up with you cockwarming him as you attempted to pathetically eat your burger. (he hadn't even touched you and you'd come twice. poor you, so pent up from the week's frustrations. wait til simon hears about this.)

johnny doesn't hear about it but feels it once he finds you in the corner booth no one uses except the waiters who close, tiredly doing the silverware. his hands make quick work of your apron and the button on your jeans, pads of his fingers lightly catching your clit and dipping into your entrance but surprise surprise. wet. slick.

he mutters in your ear if it was price or simon that's left a mess behind but kyle's sitting a couple tables down from you counting his tips. that'd be me, sorry.

he's not sorry.

simon would be the type to scoop up his seed with his thick fingers and stuff it back into your used cunt talkin bout take that with you like it's a box to go lmao

#i screamed and slapped my desk with open palms when i read about price pulling up his ZIPPER HONEY #THAT CURVEBALL WENT AND HIT ME RIGHT IN MY THROBBING (redacted)

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marleyybluu · 1 year ago

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Scream

Spooky Diaz x f!reader

Word count: 821

Content Warning(s): 18+, smut out the ass, mask kinks, p in v, little bit of porn, little bit of plot, Spooky's big fucking arms, I picture spooky hella tatted, the reader is not race-coded, reader speaks and understands Spanish, no one is pulling out (I seriously have a problem), backshots anyone? mirror sex anyone?, I'm toasted rn so sorry for the mistakes, lmk if i missed any or if i forgot to tag you

A/N: if yall know me well enough, you know what kind of state of mind I'm in 🍃and I just thought I'd write a little quickie since Halloween is next week and I don't think I've ever written anything in regard to Halloween so here we are.

(not mine, got it off Pinterest. i could koala cuddle those arms fuuuuck)

It started off as a joke. You'd become influenced by the amount of Ghost face masks you'd seen on TikTok, girls buying their boyfriends the infamous Ghost face mask so that they could put it on and pretend to be the killer from the movie, a few even accessorized with a fake knife and the women always seemed to get off on the idea. It was weird to you, at first, but then you became curious about what he would look like with the mask on. Maybe you'd open up a new kink for yourself, or maybe not but it was worth a try.

So you went to Spirit Halloween and travelled over to the mask section where only two of the Scream masks were hanging. It seemed like you weren't the only inquisitive one. You bought some other things to decorate the porch with and headed back home. You called out to your boyfriend saying you needed a favour. He sprints into the living room where he sees your hands behind your back and that smirk on your face, you were up to no good.

You present him with the mask and he chuckles shaking his head. You tell him that you want to know what he'd look like in it, but you don't want to see him try it on in front of you, you want him to walk into the room like the videos you'd seen. You hand him the mask and trot upstairs and into your shared bedroom where you sit patiently on the bed.

It took a few minutes but you'd finally heard the creaking of the stairs, your heart raced with anticipation and a familiar tingle in your fingers and toes. All over your body really. He emerges from the dark hallway into your dimly lit room and leans against the door frame. Your breath gets caught in your throat, and your thighs squeeze together. He had upped it a bit by removing his shirt and all he had on was a grey wifebeater and sweats to match. His arms were so big and his chest was so large, his broad shoulders adding to the attraction and his scattered tattoos were a bonus.

You blink and before you know it those clothes, accompanied by your own, have been disregarded and scattered all over the floor. And somehow, here you were, face shoved into the mattress and back arched professionally. His enormous hands gripped your waist as he pulled you into his thrusts making you feel every inch, every vein that was prominent on his shaft. You whine, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life as he pounded you, the bed shaking and creaking to match his rhythm.

"Look up, mi amor, this what you wanted right?" He mocked, you raise your head with the little bit of strength you had and looked up at the mirror across from the end of your bed, you bite your lip, the sight was something out of Twitter porn. The mask, his arms, the grip he had on your flesh, the way your ass recoils every time it collides with his pelvis-- Oh it was almost magical. "Fuck! That feels so fucking good." You whimper, your toes curl and you feel another orgasm approaching, only the gods in heaven knew what number this one was. You cried as you felt your hands, with a mind of their own, move from their position as you tried to crawl away from him, it was too much, the sheets were damn near soaked and sticky.

Spooky caught on and pulled you back. "¿Adónde vas, cariño? Hm? Can't take it?"

You gasp as he draws you close to him, his strong arms hooked around your waist, your back pressed against his chest. "Oh, fuck, fuck,fuck!" Was all you could get out before your walls squeezed him, your head in the cloud and your vision completely fucked out. Your head falls back on his shoulder while he continues to slam into you, his own high slowly creeping over him. He takes off the mask and kisses your neck, licking and sucking enough to leave his mark.

"You want me to come for you, bebita?" He grunts hotly in your ear, you moan and nod as an answer. Usually, he would tell you to use your words but considering your current sex-dazed state, he'd leave it alone for today. He buries his dick deep, his throbbing erection painting your walls making them extra sticky. You smile drunkenly when he affectionately nudges the back of your shoulder with his nose. "You always feel so fucking good, baby, I fucking swear." He praises, now kissing your skin. "Te amo." You manage to squeak out.

He chuckles. "Te amo, mamita."

He playfully smacks your ass before easing his way out of you, you fall on to the bed and sigh, completely and utterly satisfied.

Thank god for TikTok trends.

If you liked this fic feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

see you in the next one. peace and love 🤙🏾

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb @librarian1002

who might be interested: @miyahmaraj @bigenergy777

#on my block #on my block fanfic #spooky fanfic #marleysfanfictions #marleywrites #Spooky diaz smut #oscar diaz #spooky x reader #oscar diaz x fem!reader #spooky fanfiction #smut #oscar diaz smut

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