#the darkest time of the year is over....yes :)

[shyamanuensis]

A Family Affair - t.r & m.r

a little angst - a little drama - a little smut. a lot of riddle. bare with me on this one; i promise xo - part 1 of 3? maybe 4. we'll see xoxo

“Hi Mattheo.” “Hey Mattheo.”“Morning Mattheo.”

Years. You had spent years trying to get his attention. Trying to get him to notice you. The smiles, the waves, the pleasantries. That schoolgirl crush you had – it was nothing more than a smitten infatuation that would only ever be such as you faded into the background of life not having the looks, the charm, the charisma, the status, worthy of any kind of recognition or conscious male regard. Now though, things had changed. Rather quickly, like a costume change between actors on opening night of the production on life, you went from invisible to illustrated in the blink of an eye. Your father recently obtaining the position of Minister had been unexpected. A dark horse kind of move the wizarding world seemingly wasn’t prepared for or used to.

This is how you found yourself seated at the lavishly decorated dining table deep within the fortress of the Riddle residence one unassuming Saturday evening amongst the cruel, the unkind and the influential. It was some kind of meeting, some kind of social event, some kind of convoluted-power hungry dinner for the darkest, most sinister, even more clandestine than the next families to make their mark and take their place within history. Your parents had insisted that you dress for the occasion; make yourself look your best – worthy of the seat you had taken up. Which is why, true to their expectations and your slightly semi-conscious nerves, the pretty powder blue tea dress you were wearing screamed both ‘I do go to church every Sunday’ while hinting ‘..and yes, I fuck your son in the confessional boxes after mass has finished.’

It was the first time, in well – ever, that you had eyes on you. Critiquing the way your posture sat, the way your hair was done, words you choose to speak, the way you daintily picked up cutlery and carved into everything that had been served up before you. Most were fleeting glances every now and then; others lingered for just a moment too long hoping that you’d slip up or falter for some kind of grudge or strike to hold against your family name, but two sets of eyes; were fixated through the evening whenever they found the opportunity. Mattheo’s eyes – and Tom’s.

Sitting across from you, the father and son duo seemed to be the perfect mirror images of prestige and grace. Both heirs of trouble and torture wrapped in perfectly tailored suits with smiles you could only image the devil himself had handcrafted for them. Every breath you took they noted. Anywhere you glanced; their eyes followed curiously. Any attention they received was immediately dealt with or dismissed with an inoculant behaviour synonymous with the Riddle name so that they could keep their attention trained on you. You meant something now. You’d make the perfect little puppet for their ideas and amusements and as such, began a game between both men for a claim of ownership, a stake of your attention - a piece of your consciousness. Tom didn’t seem to care for the not-so-subtle flirtatious advances of the picture-perfect women who approached him throughout the night and Mattheo didn’t bother to try and hide his frustration in the way the pretty blonde who he’d brought along as his date, tried to drape herself over him acting as if they were destined to be star-crossed lovers.

By the end of the night, you were tired of being watched by prey, eying you like a piece of meat. Glad for the dinner to have been over; your parents done with rubbing shoulders amongst the elite, you kept to yourself, head low, a few steps behind your mother as she ever so graciously thanked the hosts for inviting the family.

“You’re welcome anytime.”

Tom’s voice dripped with an elegance and richness that had matched the merlot he’d been sipping throughout the night. You were drawn in; near mesmerized as how calculated and yet calm he appeared. A wink was thrown your way. You were sure of it. Maybe. Slipped in when your parents were focused on each other for a split second. It made your heart race, but not in a good way. The father of a classmate shouldn’t have been able to get beneath your skin, make the inners of your thighs hot, cause a sweat to form and bead softy across your collarbones that he gazed at while licking his bottom lip. You were young, you were naïve; you didn’t want to be a plaything. Not to him. Or did you.

“Thank you for dinner Mr Riddle. T’was lovely.”

The least you could do was show gratitude to fill the momentarily silent void. Your family had been invited into his home, it would be rude not to be polite or pleasant.

“Just Tom is fine.”

There was a suggestive tone to his voice which you wanted to brush away the minute he reached out to take your hand, as the perfect gentleman he was and pressed a soft kiss barely above your knuckles. That kiss – its heat – agonisingly swept across your skin bathing you in a temporary ecstasy you weren’t prepared for. Right then, Tom could have asked anything of you – love, lust, murder-suicide and you’d have happily obliged. Hand still burning, you gently pried it from Tom’s grasp and forced a smile before your tongue escaped past your lips to dampen their dryness. The movement subconscious.

“I’ll see you at school on Monday.”

Mattheo stepping in beside Tom was unexpected – although not unwelcomed. He was free of his date; hands slipping deep into his trouser pockets before flashing you a smirk; a wink which rivalled his fathers. That acknowledgement that you had been craving, stalking, yearning for, finally here. Cheeks blushing a soft peach tone, you reached up to tuck some hair behind your ear as a timid tick but felt Mattheo’s fingers finishing the job for you. The way they etched across your cheek as he returned his hand to his pockets chilling your jaw clamped shut. You were solicitous. They were desirous.

But right now, it was obvious to anyone who read between the lines that both men desired you and the ball it seemed was firmly bouncing on your end of the court to be played further into the game as you wished it to.

part 1 dedicated to @kelseyreads22 xox

[kaddyssammlung]

I forgot about this one

[iamrizaka]

I know I just woke up, and I know that my brain wasn't braining normally when I had this thought, but you need to see my vision.

Silena was involved in Lee's death.

I talked before about Lee catching Silena talk to Kronos, and her feeling guilty when she finds out that he's dead, along with her secret. BUT what if, after Lee caught her, she tried to convince him to join Kronos/ use charmspeak on him? But it didn't work, and he would've probably yelled at her more, but the battle had started, and he had to make sure that everyone stayed alive.

So he was running around, like a headless chicken, changing others' positions, just to make sure that they didn't die. I always go with him dying while protecting his sibling (usually Will), and Silena not being involved at all. But this time, what if, while running around, he gets hit? You know, like an injury where you go, "I just need a second to breathe, then I'll be okay." Yeah, well, he doesn't get a second.

Before the giant kills him, he sees Silena, standing a bit far away. She watches, her axe drawn; but before he can call out to her she just. Turns around. And leaves, before the giant's club collapses with his head.

(Another version of this is that Lee doesn't die then. He lies on the ground, unable to move or call for help; blood leaks from his helmet. Silena is shocked to find him here, quietly breathing. As he tries to garble out a sound, Silena draws the same axe from before. She finishes the job that the monster started, either out of mercy or out of fear.)

[songwritingauslly]

don’t you love it when ur friend forgets about u and ignores ur existence the second she’s near her best friend

[astrxealis]

making myself suffer looking thru ffxiv stuff on tumblr when i could be playing ffxiv rn but i eternally love and miss ffxiv

[sabertoothwalrus]

yes we laugh about laios’s answer here hahaha it’s not even a monster but. let’s not gloss over senshi

His favorite food is Hippogriff soup.

His deepest, darkest, most closely-held secret wasn’t just that he spent most of life never truly knowing if one of his companions fed him another one of their teammates in order to keep him alive.

It was also that he liked it. A lot.

His relief he felt wasn’t just the “oh thank god I’m not a cannibal” catharsis, it was also that he wouldn’t have to kill and eat another person just to eat this meal again.

How many times do you think he craved it over the years. How haunted was he by this. How hard was it for him to make friendships with other humans because of this. Is this why he was so comfortable living with orcs. He was so isolated that, even living on an island with a decent half-foot population, he didn’t even know what they were.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Twisted Girls

:¨ ·.· ¨: ⠀⠀ `· . ꔫ Perv Ellie x Femdom! Reader

Content: Sexual content, masturbation, face-sitting (r! receiving), thigh-riding (e! receiving), perverted horndog Ellie, best friend trope, light blackmail, spit-play, dom reader, switch Ellie who is really just a sub for reader, sub/dom roles, rough sex, choking, use of degrading names like "whore", reader has a cooter cat

Word Count: 3.2k

Photo creds to ellsgirll! for more gorgeous photos click here Divider creds here

Description: You’ve been Ellie’s “sweet” best friend for years now, and she thinks that you don’t understand the depths of her horniness. Especially when it comes to you. Ellie thought way too much about what she’d do with you if she had the courage to expose her obsession, but when you discover her darkest secret, the tables turn. Ellie’s in over her head.

Ellie was face down in her bed, face buried into her pillows. Her hand was down her pants as always, and she was aggressively humping her hand like a fucking dog. This wasn't the worst of it, either. Clutched between her grimey finger-tips was a pair of your silky panties. Yes, that's right. She had a pair of your most expensive Victoria's Secret set down in her pants, rubbing the fabric against her clit perfectly. She pretended the dampness that spread from her pussy to the fabric of your underwear was yours as well, but it just wasn't the same. Still, the thrill was exciting.

After the came, she did what was honorary routine. She let out an exhausted sigh as she tucked your panties away under her bed in a little box with a few others she stole, including a few polaroids you obliviously gave her, not realizing it'd become masturbation material.

In all truth, post-nut clarity hit her hard. She'd always feel horrible for taking advantage of your kind nature, even if it was in secret. She hated how much she wanted you, how she couldn't keep her hormones at bay like some horny teenage boy. Her feelings for you were deeper than any of that, too. She truly loved you. But she'd rather take out her feelings in the way she knew how. She was far from a sex addict either; she didn't do what she did often. But she did fall asleep with a picture of you under her pillow once. Only one time.

And of course, tomorrow was a sleep-over day for the two of you. Ellie both dreaded and fantasized about what it'd be like to have you sleep in her bed. She wondered if you'd snore, if you talked in your sleep, or perhaps you were silent and peaceful. Even though she'd been your friend for years now, she hardly let you over. You never understood why; she was fine with coming over to your house. She just seemed to hate you being in her personal space. But for Ellie, she had the most justifiable reasons for pushing you away.

Ellie's room was always a mess, and in the center of it all would be something she simply didn't want you to see, like the vibrator on her desk or the uneven Cannibal Holocaust poster on her wall. She was a true horror fan while you were an adamant hater. You thought gore, even if fake, was just disgusting.

You were entirely different from Ellie in all ways possible. While she was seemingly awkward and quiet, you were like a golden retriever, always talking someone's head off. Ellie saw you as innocent, too. It was kind of a fantasy for her. She loved the idea of being your first, ruining you for anyone else. She wanted to make you only hers, to make you cum for the first time so you'd see it as some godly experience and be attached to her for the rest of your life. She partially assumed you saw sex as something that caused soul-ties or some shit like that. In all honesty, she would've gotten attached to you if she had the chance to fuck you.

However, Ellie's perception was extremely biased. As much as you were oblivious to her perverse behavior, she was oblivious to yours. No, you weren't some innocent girl who was too prissy to even think about sex, let alone masturbate. You were a secret control freak. Ellie fantasized about you being her sweet girl, about ruining something she didn't know was already ruined. Something that she didn't know existed within you. The idea of you being her slut was so appealing to her, while the idea of her being at your every whim was appealing to you.

She couldn't have predicted how truly different you'd be from the fantasy she had stuffed up into that murky head of hers.

You loved Ellie so dearly. She was truly one of your best friends for years now. She was always there for you when you needed her. All of those pathetic boys who broke your heart in highschool somehow found themselves with a broken nose. Ellie was like a dark savior for you, so it was natural to love her in a more complex way than a simple friendship runs. After that simple statement, not much more was natural.

You loved her, and that was obvious. But you also wanted to ruin her. No, you needed to. You didn't feel an ounce of guilt like Ellie did when it came to these twisted thoughts. There was nothing stable about the way you'd picture her in ropes while you bounced on her strap or had your tongue deep between her folds. You didn't want to just give her pleasure, you wanted to send her tumbling into a limbo between heaven and hell where she'd both hate you and need you so badly, where every time your tongue would refuse to apply any sort of stimulation to her clit, she'd feel that dizzy feeling of desperation. She'd hate you if you ever got your hands on her.

These feelings were reasoned with Ellie's behavior. While you were sweet and caring to her like a goddess to her mortals, Ellie wasn't exactly the picturesque best friend and you weren't as oblivious as you'd pretend to be. It was almost insulting that Ellie thought you were so clueless to where your underwear was running off to, as if an expensive Victoria's Secret set grew a pair of legs and left your laundry hamper. No, you absolutely knew. And you were much better at secretly fantasizing about Ellie than Ellie was about you. She wanted to fuck you, but she was much too desperate. You might’ve wanted her, but there was no pathetic horniness to your mindset. It was all so controlled. And that's the whole point, control.

Handcuffs, ropes, and belts. Physical restraint is one thing, but total mind control is another. And you had just the plan to take what you wanted from her.

—

Ellie scrambled to clean up her room. She wasn't the most organized person, and she didn't really think she needed to be. It wasn't like she had many friends to come visit her. She was fine with doing her own thing, playing Call of Duty at late hours of the night even with the strain the bright PC light put on her eyes, writing shameful journal entries, sketching photos of her obsessions(space, dinosaurs, the new editions of Starlight Savage, and most importantly, you), and obviously touching herself with extremely lesbian thoughts.

After she had mostly cleaned up the tornado in her bedroom, now she had to text you and tell you she was ready for you to come over. It wasn't long before you were knocking at her door, and that was when the inevitable sequence of events would begin.

Ellie was never much of a control freak. She thought she was, she thought that she loved the idea of just fucking some girl and making her cum. She thought that meant she was dominant in some sense, or that she was even right to assume she'd be the one in control if she were to ever actually sleep with you. That's just not how things work, though. Someone so reckless, so careless, so sensitive and unorganized can't possess a human being. Ellie was in over her head by thinking she could've kept her secret for very long.

The knock on the door jolted her out of whatever daydream she was having, and Ellie scurried to opened the door.

There you were, in all your glory. Beautiful, wide eyes that had a sprinkle of shine in them Ellie was addicted to. You smiled wide and let yourself in.

"So, I was thinking we could play Mario Kart. Unless you have other plans." You immediately requested that specific activity because you hated most video games when usually that was all Ellie did. Mario Kart was always middle grounds for the both of you.

"Oh, fuck yeah. But don't start crying when I beat your ass," She said with a laugh and lead you into her bedroom.

Ellie's room wasn't huge, and her décor consisted mostly of video games and comics you hadn't even heard of. You only recognized Starlight Savage because of the hours Ellie would spend ranting to you about Dr. Daniela Star. She had a few dinosaur plushies on her bed and a record player in the corner of her room that complimented her vinyl shelf nicely. Her PC setup was impressive, which didn't surprise you. All you could think about, however, was where your precious Victoria's Secret sets were located. For now, you would have to focus on dominating her in Mario Kart.

Ellie won about 10 times. You beat her once and it was because she ran over a banana at the last second. Of course, Ellie was being as smug as usual.

"Told you I'd beat your ass. Don't whine now." She sneered in a voice that made you want to put her in her place.

You remained calm. "Whatever. So..what do we do now?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, but I gotta use the bathroom. Wait on my bed, okay?" Ellie shut the door behind her, leaving you alone in her room. This was your chance.

You quickly went through her drawers first, and found nothing but her own boxers. Not that you were complaining, but those weren't exactly yours.

You got lucky. You bent down to search under the bed and your hands felt around until you felt something. it was a red cardboard box that you'd never seen in her room before. Unlike Ellie, you didn't feel extremely guilty about going through her private stuff.

Your hands made quick work of the lid and at the same time, the bathroom door swung open. Ellie opened the door, her eyes widening and her face a tomato red at the sight of you sat on the floor with her stash of your undergarments in your hands. You felt a little guilty now, but this would put your plan in motion, and you wanted Ellie too much to brush it all aside. Even if you didn't truly care.

"What the fuck, Ellie?! Are these my panties? What in the actual fuck is wrong with you?" You exclaimed, and you sounded truly offended.

Ellie's heart dropped down into her stomach. She'd never seen you so angry. You were always so sweet with her and she never felt deserving of it. Now, at least she felt like this is how things were really meant to be.

"Oh, my gosh...I am so sorry, I swear to you I never meant to-"

You cut her off quickly, standing up and throwing the panties onto the ground. "What? I could ruin your life for this, Ellie. You would probably deserve it to. I could tell everyone about this, and they would hate you. You'd be labeled as a pervert for the rest of your life."

Suddenly, Ellie was panicking. She'd never expected you to find the stash. She felt all the guilt bubble up in the form of nausea. Her hands were trembling now and she was fidgeting with the tips of her fingers trying to calm herself. Now, she was truly groveling. "Please don't tell anyone! I'll do anything, I swear to you. I will do anything. I understand if you hate me, but please..just don't tell anyone. You can leave if you want, I.." She trailed off, feeling hopeless. She felt that nothing could change what she did.

The next words that left your mouth made Ellie's jaw drop onto the floor.

"Let me sit on your face." You stated, as if it were a casual request everyone had made to their friends before.

Ellie was extremely confused by the way this was going now. She struggled to find the words to explain how she was feeling, and the ache that was beginning to gnaw at her lower stomach was inconvenient but unsurprising. All she could manage was a weak "What...?"

"You heard me. You’re gonna make me cum, or I'll post all about this to everyone. Your life will be ruined. You better get started, don't you think?"

Ellie was hesitant. She couldn't tell if this was some joke or not, and then you spoke up again. "If you're not going to do it, I can just leave and go tell-"

"No!", Ellie shouted quickly. Her voice was shakier than normal, and her face still flushed. She couldn't believe this was how she'd get to have you, with you being in control of the whole situation. Still, she didn't want to complain. "I-I'll let you, I promise..” 

-

The first taste Ellie got of you made her almost cum in her fucking jeans. Your juices tasted like something completely foreign to her, like lust and pure arousal. She gave your cunt experimental kitten licks, and you responded by putting more weight onto the girl, practically smothering her face with your cunt. God, even when she was struggling with the lack of experience she had pleasuring girls, her eagerness made up for it. You had to place your hands flat on her chest to keep from falling over with the pleasure she was giving you every time she’d whine against your pussy, vibrations making your clit practically numb with pleasure. 

You began to guide yourself on her face, slowly rocking against her mouth. “Fuck, Els..c’mon, just like that.” You praised, and Ellie put in even more effort into the task, tongue swirling around your sensitive bud and making you go dizzy with power. The way she was whimpering at your taste as if she was the one getting fucked, her own hips bucking up in the air for some friction she couldn’t get. The sight was truly giving you an ego. 

You felt the heat in your stomach from every flick of her tongue against your clit and the fire only grew into unprecedented flames as your hips shifted your cunt down into her mouth, using her like some sex toy.

Ellie didn’t even think of sex like this, like being controlled completely by someone. But the more you grasped at her chest, snaking your hands down her shirt to greedily palm her tits, the more she just wanted to please you. All she could focus on was making you cum, even though her own cunt was throbbing with neglection.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl..you’re gonna make me cum, Ellie.” Your voice was trailing off and breathless, and soon you hit your climax, orgasm hitting you like a freight train. 

Your legs trembling from above, thighs squeezing at her head and making her dizzy with the warmth of your cellulite. You were frantically grinding, pulling at her tits as if it would give you another orgasm. You cried out, and Ellie spent the next few seconds licking up your cum as if it was the gods nectar. 

When you finally came down, you rolled over breathlessly and buried your face into the sheets. Ellie was just as messy as you were, your wetness coating her chin, and her breathing coming out in soft pants. However, she still felt extremely needy.

“P-Please, can you make me feel good to..?” She asked, voice small and her words coming out in a stammer.

You paused for a moment at that. You could’ve probably done so much to her. You wanted to fuck her silly and use her all night. However, you still wanted to make a point about the stash. You had to keep up with the whole “offended by Ellie stealing your underwear” bit. So you rolled over to sit up and shrugged.

“You can hump my thigh.” You stated shamelessly.

Ellie blushed at this, and she felt pathetic for how fast and moved to straddle your leg. Fuck, it felt so good to grind her cunt against your leg-

You grabbed her hips and stopped Ellie’s beginning movements, making her whine in protest.

“Nuh-uh, not like that. Take off your clothes.” You demanded.

Ellie was naked without much thought to it. She was too desperate to fuck herself on your thigh that she didn’t care about dignity.

Her hips ground down against your soft thigh, and you’d occasionally bounce it up, making her let out little yelps. She was aware of the wet patch her arousal was leaving on your bare skin, but she was too caught up in the pleasure to care. However, when you leaned down to spit on your thigh, causing even more easy friction, she practically folded. It felt way too good to slide her cunt against your own saliva, and it messed with her head even though she was used to perverse thoughts.

“P-Please, you feel so good..” She gargled out, her voice shaky and needy.

You scoffed. “Please, what? What are you even begging for? You’re so greedy.”

Ellie’s face turned another hue of red at this, and she let out a whorish whimper, her hips picking up speed. “Be rough with me..it’d make me feel good.” She asked.

You’d fantasized about this countless times.

You didn’t hesitate to wrap a hand around her throat, and you began shifting your thigh beneath her, making her soaking pussy feel overwhelmed with the sudden attention.

“Is this what you wanted, whore? You wanted me to be rough with you?” You spoke, and your tone was so unfamiliar from the sweet, soft angelic voice she was so used to you using.

Ellie struggled to answer, and your hand tightened around her throat. She was practically humping your leg like a dog, and you could tell she was getting close. You delivered a small smack to her hip, making her moan in response.

“Answer me, baby. Is this what you wanted? To be fucked on my thigh?” You loosened your grip on her throat so she could speak.

“Y-Yes!! Fuck, I’m gonna cum..”

You didn’t hesitate to tighten your embrace on her soft throat once again, partially cutting off her airflow. You leaned forward to speak into her ear. “Better make a mess on my thigh, baby.”

Ellie didn’t need any further encouragement. With the feeling of the loss of oxygen and your ironically sweet words, she finally found her orgasm. Her body shook with the effort to release, and your thigh was coated in stickiness as she continued to ride out the high.

Your hand left her throat and your arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly. You left kisses in her hair as she shifted to sit over your lap, her body warm and limp in your embrace.

You sighed and pulled her face up to give her a soft kiss, your lips massaging hers with a newfound affection. When you pulled away, she buried her face into your shoulder. You smiled and ran your fingers through her hair, loving on her as if she was some fawn that couldn’t walk. To be fair, she probably would fall over if she tried.

“Better not steal my panties again, Els."

[cherriegyuu]

calendar | csc

pairing: seungcheol x f!reader genre: smut word count: 3.1k summary: the red mark on the calendar is one of seungcheol's favorites warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, stimulation, swearing, petnames, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this), oral (f. receiving), breeding kink, cock sleeve (kinda), dirty talking playlist: ➝ here a/n: still a little (a lot) insecure about smut, but wanted to try writing this one. not proof read

please remember that comments and reblogs are extremely important

seungcheol stopped in front of the calendar in the closet, a smile tugging at his lips. the red circle around the date, signaling an important event he always waited a little more anxiously for. 

not that having sex with his wife was something he couldn't do as often as he liked, far from that. if anything both of you were always eager to be with each other, even after so many years together. it had never gotten boring or dull at any moment. both of you always wanted to try new things and keep it interesting, mostly you. for seungcheol being buried deep inside you while you moaned his name was to closest thing he'd ever to heaven, if such a place even existed. 

he gave up on the shirt, knowing fully well what the sight of him in nothing but sweats did to you. pair it with his wet hair and it was enough to drive you crazy. the good thing about being with someone for so long is knowing exactly what ticks the other person off, and what buttons to press. well, it could be both a blessing and a curse. in that moment seungcheol chose to believe that it was solely a blessing. 

a small groan left his lips at the sight of you lying on your stomach, scrolling through your phone, in his shirt and black pair of panties — the one he bought you after there was a small accident with a few pieces of underwear. 

the thing about ticks and buttons is that it works both ways and, obviously, seungcheol wasn't the only one who could play that game. 

he crawled on top of you slowly and pushed your hair to the side so he could kiss the nape of your head. you sighed in contentment when you felt his weight on top of yours. 

"look," you said, raising your phone slightly "hannie sent me pictures of his daughter today"

seungcheol looked at the smiling face of his friend with a little girl in his arms. it had been many years since he had seen jeonghan look quite that happy. of course that suddenly finding out about a child and suddenly needing to be a full-time dad wasn't the easiest thing in the world but he was playing it like a breeze. you swiped your finger and a picture of the little girl in a bright yellow dress greeted him. seungcheol smiled. yeah, she was cute and looked every bit like jeonghan, acted too. a little menace, she was.

"what does he want? if he's sending pictures he wants something" he chuckled knowing his friend well. everything jeonghan did had a purpose.

seungcheol sat back on his heels and slowly started to massage your shoulders over the fabric of the shirt. 

"he asked if we can have gia tomorrow night, he has a work thing to go" you moaned lowly when seungcheol pressed on the not in your shoulder blade, "i said yes"

he laughed again. of course you had been quick to agree, it didn't surprise him. you had always loved kids and were always happily willing to have them for any amount of time needed. after you had gotten married it had gotten a little more frequent since most of your friends had decided to have kids at the same, and since jeonghan found out about his daughter it had gotten weekly. seungcheol never complained, he too loved kids and liked having them around, he especially loved the glint in your eyes whenever you looked at them running around the living room, breaking a thing or two.

"cheol" you said one day at the darkest hour of the night after rolling around in bed for hours, voice barely a whisper as you played with his hair "i... should we start trying?"

it was too late, his mind was barely working, almost drowning in sleep for him to understand what you were saying but in hindsight, he should have seen it coming.

"trying what?" he asked turning around and wrapping you in his arms, his leg nesting between yours.

"for a baby"

that was how the calendar ended up hanging on the closet wall. your ovulation period was marked in a bright red marker. 

"do you think it's really work or, maybe, a date?" you asked.

slowly seungcheol moved his hand lower, to the small of your back, pressing a little more tenderly where he knew you struggled with pain. he moved your, his, shirt up,  adding a little more pressure as your body fully relaxed under him.

"jeonghan wouldn't date now," he said "gia is still getting used to him and us, he wouldn't add someone else to the mix"

you turned around under him, eyes narrowed. when you raised your arm to rest it under your head your shirt lifted a little, exposing the skin right over the elastic of your underwear. it was pretty, yes, with lace details on the sides but that mattered very little. seungcheol was far more interested in what was hidden under it. 

"you're telling me that jeonghan hasn't fucked anyone since we got gia? a whole seven months ago"

seungcheol placed his hands on your waist, your skin warm under his touch. the corner of your lips tugged up at the expression in your husband's eyes. he was struggling to keep focus on the conversation both of you were heaving. jeonghan and gia were the least of his worries. 

"i care very little about who jeonghan fucks" he said, voice hoarse as he leaned forward at the same time he pushed your shirt further up "all i care about is putting a baby in my beautiful wife"

he pressed a kiss to your naked skin. he had imagined it many times, you pregnant with his kid, your belly around. it had been one of the many reasons why he had woken you up in the middle of the night and fucked you dumb. he had never said anything, choosing to let you decide when it was time. when you were ready to have a baby. seungcheol knew that it was going to change things for you a lot more than it would for him, it was also your body. 

if it were up to him, you'd have a least two kids running around the house. 

"you have some work to do then," you said, laughing. 

almost like a reflex, you tangled your fingers in his hair. you sighed as seungcheol started his exploratory kisses. some were light, like the touch of a feather, loving, in a worship manner. others were the exact opposite, harsher as he pulled your skin in between his teeth just for a second, to later soothe the spot with the tip of his tongue. he loved to leave tiny marks in your body, where no one else would be able to see them but him. but you knew they were there, it was a constant reminder of the night before and a reminder of what was still to come.

you spread your legs to better accommodate seungcheol as he pushed your shirt to your neck.  you felt a little electric tension run over your skin when you noticed his eyes on you, taking in your every expression. you smiled when he pressed his thumb over your hard nipple, pinching it.

seungcheol took your boob into his mouth, biting your nipple at the same time he pinched the other one. involuntarily your back arched, your grip on his hair tightening.

he loved the sounds you made, how it usually started so low and small but he always managed to work you up enough to get you begging under him, on top of him. either way, you'd end the night pleading for him, for his cock.

"do you think today is the day?" he asked, trailing his kisses again down your stomach to your panties "do you think i can pump you full enough to get you pregnant?"

you expected seungcheol to tug at the sides of your panties and pull them down but instead, he kissed you over them. he grinned when he saw the small wet spot in your underwear. 

"i barely started and you're already wet, baby?" he teased.

he ran his finger over your cunt still covered by the thin panties. your hips twitched under his touch, needing more than just light touches. but you weren't ready to give in to him yet. he was going to have to work harder if he wanted to hear you begging for more.

"not a word? playing hard to get tonight, i see" he pushed your underwear to the side, lightly blowing your clit. he had to contain the laugh that erupted in his chest "let's see how long it lasts"

you raised your hips as seungcheol used his index fingers to pull your panties down. you laughed when you saw the small piece of cloth being thrown over his shoulder. your laughter died as soon as you felt his warm, wet, tongue on your clit. he sucked the small bundle of never into his mouth at the same time he pushed two fingers into you. he was relentless, his pace devastating, not giving you a second to breathe.

the sounds, of his mouth on you as well as the wetness of your pussy, were obscene but they turned you on even further. you wanted, needed, more.

and the thing is, seungcheol was the giving kind of partner. whatever you wanted was yours, but you had to say it, loud and clear. for him.

"come one baby, just ask" he blew your clit again, this time using the tip of his thumb to lightly brush it "use your pretty little mouth and beg for me"

a curse left your lips when his fingers stopped moving and he pulled away from you. your orgasm that was right there, around the corner, suddenly gone, leaving only your throbbing cunt and ragged breathing as a witness. 

you tried to grab his hand and push his fingers back but the was being a little shit, holding it behind his back.

"fuck, seungcheol," you said, partially annoyed, and desperately turned on "just eat me out, fuck me with your fingers. whatever you do just make me cum"

"your wish, wife, is always my command"

seungcheol wasted no second. his lips were around your clit and a third finger was added into to slit. it only took a few pumps for you to come undone under him. a mess of moans and curses. unsure of when exactly you had let go,  your hand gripped his hair again, forcing his head closer to you, grinding his face against you, desperate for everything he had.

seungcheol used the edge of the mattress to apply some pressure on his throbbing cock. he was so hard it was painful so whatever friction he could get was welcomed. 

every single one of your moans were met a stroke of his tongue and a pump of his fingers. it was torture, the most delicious and vicious kind of torture.

seungcheol only leaned back when he felt the shake in your legs subside, crawling back you. he pressed his thumb in your mouth, smiling when you opened and sucked him in. you were the most beautiful thing in the world, with your cheeks painted in a bright shade of pink, and two tear stains on the sides of your eyes. god, he loved you. 

you could taste your own release in his finger when you circled his finger with your tongue. you grazed his skin with your teeth looking into his eyes. seungcheol hissed, wishing that it was his cock in your mouth.

"i know you would love it if i sucked you," you said "but i really need you to fuck me, right now, please"

you were going to be the death of him.

you pulled your shirt over your head and turned around, sticking your ass up while your chest was pressed against the pillow.

for a second seungcheol felt like a teenager who just found out he was about to fuck the hottest girl he had ever laid eyes on. he was quick to push his sweats off. he hadn't bothered with boxers, knowing exactly where the night would lead the two of you.

"i'm going to fill you up so good baby" he squeezed your ass and second later slapped it "so so deep there's no way you won't get pregnant tonight"

he ran his tip over your pussy a few times, coating himself in you. he knew that he could slide in without doing it but he also liked torturing you. your moans got a little more desperate every time rubbed against your clit.

whenever he took you bare the sensation was entirely new and different. yes, there were a few instances when both of you were in too much of a hurry, or sometimes it just didn't matter enough, to care or remember to take a condom, but ultimately both of you had always been careful. you took your pills, he carried a condom and life moved on. but even after months of no condom, no barrier at all between the two of you, seungcheol still felt his head get a little dizzy. 

your walls adjusted perfectly to him, clinging around him, pulling him, demanding every single inch of him. he slowly pushed in until all he was deep into you, to the hilt.

you moaned against the soft fabric of the sheets, loving the burning sensation of the stretch. you pushed your ass high in the hair, wiggling it from side to side begging him to just move. the stretch of his dick deliciously painful still.

"cheol, move" you begged.

"this what you want?" he asked 

seungcheol pushed your head further into the mattress, his hand on the back of your head, thighing your hair around his fist. finally he started to move, he pulled his cock all the way out and pressed it back in, hitting that one spot that made your head spin and little stars shine behind your closed eyes, over and over again. you squirmed when seungcheol pressed his weight over your body, moaning as he somehow got even deeper.

you moved your hand down your body, slowly circling your with the tip of your nail.

"cheol, fuck" you bit the pillow "faster, please, just fuck me"

he loved the neediness in your voice, how you completely forfeit with your no-begging police. the smell of your sweet vanilla soap disappeared now that your skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat. 

seungcheol didn't change his rhythm, knowing that it was enough to drive you crazy and over the edge.

"are you touching yourself, baby?" he pulled on your hair, giving you a taste of your medicine. his dick throbbed when he saw the smile on your face "fuck"

he reached forward, slapping your hand away from your cunt. you cursed at him but the nasty words were quickly replaced with a moan when he pinched your clit, tugging and pressing, driving you fucking crazy on his dick. even so, his pace was slow.

"cum for me, baby" he whispered. 

"let me ride you" you begged "i want to look at you when you breed me"

your words had always been the ruin of him. he almost came right there. he turned you around and sat on the bed, grinning when you cried when his dick left your pussy.

"i know, baby, but you were the one that wanted to ride me"

a small fuck you left your lips as you crawled on top of him. seungcheol moaned when you gripped him, your hand sliding up and down his length while you grazed his tip with your nail lightly. you aligned him to you and sank down in one swift movement, making both of you moan.

seungcheol was wrong, being balls deep into you wasn't paradise. no. paradise was being balls deep in your cunt while you rode him, tits bouncing in in his face, while you moaned his name again and again like a prayer, taking what you wanted from him. he cupped your breasts in his hands. your hands covered his, forcing your nipples between his fingers and squeezing. 

"fuck. cheol" you said, eyes on his as you circled your hips before thrusting down on him again "i'm gonna cum. i need to"

your walls squeezed around him. seungcheol moaned as he held you by the hips holding you in place, while the pounded into you, finally, finally fucking you as fast and as hard as you wanted. he fucked you roughly, watching as his cock disappeared in your cunt, each thrust deeper than the previous one. seungcheol felt the muscles of his thighs and stomach squeeze at the same time you clenched around him, milking him.

he pressed his thumb to your clit and the scream you let out was enough to drive both of you to the edge. you let your body fall forward, and you bit that spot between his shoulder and neck. seungcheol continued to pound into you, fucking his cum as deep as he could, pushing it further into you making sure not even a drop was wasted. 

it took both of you a couple of minutes to settle down, evening out your breathing, and making sure your legs were no longer shaking.

"seungcheol" you cried, finally looking at his face, kissing him, letting him invade your mouth with his tongue "i'm so full. it's so deep"

he could never, ever, get enough of you.

“don’t move baby, let’s make sure this one sticks”

you kissed the side of his neck, feeling his hot cum inside you while his dick slowly got flaccid. you loved to have him in you, just there, with you, as close as humanly possible, with nothing between the two of you. his personal cock sleeve, he had called you a few times.

“you say it like fucking me is a terrible task someone assigned you”

you felt the vibrations of his laughter before you heard it. you just closed your eyes and pressed your head to his chest, the sound of his heartbeats calming like a lullaby.

“fucking you is the one task i’ll never ask someone else to do in my place”

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[whambambatfam]

Webs of a Wing

Chapter 1

I am not well versed in DC knowledge. I've read a bunch of the older comics but, honestly, these timelines are too confusing to say I have a firm grasp on what the fuck is happening at any given point.

Anyways, this is my story, I made a tumbler for it. I'll definitely upload again..

When the fly on the wall starts to spin webs of their own, can the bats catch on? Or will they be left to dangle in the web they've tangled?

───── ⋆⋅ 🕸 ⋅⋆ ─────

You're hardly school aged when you wake in a strange place, vague memories of someone patting your head as you fall asleep. Then it was all blurry and you went from cold hard ground, suddenly, to a warm bed worth more than you've ever seen.

Laying still, staring up at the ceiling, you lay dazed until you hear the door starting to creak open. Quickly shutting your eyes you wait for the suspect to peak inside.

When his voice sounds, back on the other side of the door, you perk up, "Who's this? They're kinda cute." A boy, most likely a few years older than you.

When that deep, fear inducing voice reaches for you, you jump out of bed after it. "Apparently, my child." He couldn't possibly be talking about you, right?

You make your way silently to the creaked door. Peeping through to watch them. "Huh? What?? Like seriously???" Hands resting on his hips, a boy of black hair and lean physique gapes.

A tall man with a build as intimidating as his voice, "Yes, I've run a DNA test and everything." His large arms cross over his broad chest.

Mirroring the older man's stance, the boy questions, "So, who's the mom?"

"I'm still working on that.."

"Have you.. asked them?"

There's a heaviness lingering in the hall around them. "We don't know if they'll talk yet, not till they wake up." He doesn't like not having answers, clearly.

"Can they?"

Swinging the door open, you bark out at your own defense, "I knew how'd to talk!"

His shoulder shot up, face blossoming in embarrassment, "Oh, sorry." Sighing, he tries to appear nonchalant. "Well, heyyy.. kid.. My name's Dick.” Placing a hand on your shoulder, he smiles, “Guess I'll be like, your, uh, big brother?"

Eyes widening, you step away from his grasp. Being in a strange place with strange people claiming to be your family was concerning. Even in your young mind, alarm bells rang loud and clear.

Like a light shining through your darkest times, his voice cut through the tension. “This may be all too much for,” A man, much older than either, rests his hand on your back, “the newly young master Wayne.” He ushers you gently back into the room. All gentle pats and kind smiles as he insists on you resting.

You never spoke about who or where you came from. It hurts to try, to think of the cold, the dark, the pain, the fear. Push out all the bad. Make it just go away. You just wanted it to go away. Wanted to take every memory of before and lock it up, never to be found. So, that's what you did, burying every painful memory. After some time, your young mind turned repression into suppression. Now, left with only bits and pieces, you couldn't remember even if you wanted to.

So, you’ll need to fill in the emptiness with this fresh start.

Life in the Wayne house started off joyfully. You found serenity in the solitude of the manor, disconnected from the rest of Gotham. When Alfred wasn't pushing tedious homeschooling work, you explored the massive house you'd be calling home. The quietude of empty ballrooms, winding halls and stodgy gardens was your respite. While it wasn't a place made for children, you felt at peace for the first time. The perfect home for a ghost with plenty of walls for flies and flowers alike.

Coming from unknown origins with no paperwork to speak of left you in a peculiar predicament. As a child was low grasp on the passage of time, you couldn't exactly say how old you were. Let alone when your birth date was. No one has ever bothered to tell you and if they have you certainly weren't going to remember. Infact, at Alfreds insists on a celebration, he comes to find you've never truly experienced a birthday of any kind. He had to correct this at once, give you a proper one with cake, singing and presents. It makes him wonder what sort of childhood you've been plucked from.

“Well, young master.” Alfred takes your hands as you climb the step stool next to him, “It's been a year now since you've joined us at the manor.”

Your hands slap onto the counter when you finally reach it. “Yeah, I like it.” Smiling wide up at the old butler, you babble on, “everything is so big and warm and it smells nice and I like when you cook and I wanna cook too and-” Alfred hushes your ramblings with a hand on your head.

“Yes, that's lovely, my child.” The other hand opens a draw nearby. “And that's what we'll be doing today.”

You tilt your head as the hand on it brushes over it and falls away, “Cooking?” Craning your neck, you try to peek at the cards he flips through.

“Well, baking, but yes.” He confirms, offering you a smile that's warm and sweet like his cookies, “Today was the day you joined the family, it's as good a day as any for a party.”

Your eyes light up, “A party for what?”

“Your birthday, my dear.” He chuckles softly at your look of awe,“Today will be your birthday, and every year I shall make you a cake.”

“Woah, every year?” You gasp as he hafs you the small stack of cards, each a handwritten cake recipe. While you can't read them yet, there are pictures of each cake pasted alongside the words. “That's a lot of cakes.. Can I help?”

“Whichever you like most we'll bake.” You're quick to pick one, waving the card around frantically, “I would be honored to have your help as well, young master.”

Alfred got to work with measurements, letting you pour everything into the bowls. He shows you how to mix, guiding you hand over hand when you struggle. You can't help spilling half of you what you're given, covering the counters. Sliding the pan batter into the oven, Alfred has you assist by wiping away your mess.

As he begins readying ingredients for frosting you ask, “Are those guys gonna join us?”

You're too busy scrubbing batter from your stool to see the way he deflates. “Unfortunately, your father and brother are tied up in something.” He sighs, taking the rag and finishing your job. With a sullen smile he hands you a measuring cup of sugar, “Perhaps next year.”

The night is spent merrily celebrating. When it cools Alfred frosts and decorates your cake. He places a number of candles, It's the first of many birthdays spent with just you and Alfred.

The next years were your first time in true schooling, a prestigious boarding school to boot. You couldn't remember seeing so many other children before. The eyes you received from strangers when given your new last name made your skin crawl. Deciding to forgo it in most encounters. Yet, for some reason to a great number of your fellow classmates, that fact seemed to matter greatly. If you met someone who insisted or withheld their friendship without, then you'd simply roll your eyes, never speaking to them.

You decided friends weren't important, instead making it your goal to not just succeed but to exceed. If this was your shot of a real family, you wanted to show them you were something capable. Worthy. You were hopeful, determined in getting close.

Only to be pushed aside at every opportunity.

“I got’ perfect score!” The words burst from you with such excitement you're bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Bruce doesn't even bother to look at the paper you're frantically waving at him. Simply mumbling as he places his mug in the sink, “Very nice.” Before turning to Dick, “Come on, son. It's time to go.” You thought maybe this was how a father was supposed to be. Cold, distant and hardly ever around for someone so small.

Alfred steps up from behind your slumped form. Plucking the paper from your dejected gaze. He hums softly before you hear a rap on the fridge beside you. “Wonderful job young master.” You smile for him as he pats your head. Happy to have at least someone’s acknowledgement.

From what your classmates say, a big brother will either pick on you or support you. Soon you came to find that living with Dick Grayson didn't guarantee you any of his time. Good or bad.

So, despite the terror that being center stage fills you with, you entered your school's spelling bee. The thought that maybe you could possibly impress them gave you just enough nerve.

“Hey, um, Dickie...” When you catch his sleeve, your teeth skin into your cheeks. He peeks over his shoulder at you, “Here, it's a competition.”

His nose wrinkles slightly before he smiles. “Spelling bee?” Not a real smile, you don't get those. It's a empty, meaningless thing that hardly lifts his lips.

“If you're not busy.” You clasp your fingers together, steeling your nerves.

“Uh, yeah. Maybe.” It’s thinly masked disgust if anything.

Time came to discuss bringing you into the public eye, an official declaration of your relationship with the Wayne's. Just the thought of it was unsettling, like placing a target on your back. The last place you want to be is the spot light.

“I don't wanna go. I won't go.” It was then in that moment, when the words left your lips, you could see it in his eyes.

A wave of relief Dick couldn't quite stifle, lip touching at the corner before turning to Bruce, “Maybe they're just scared of all those new people. With everyone looking at them, seeing them as your..” That uptick in his features falters slightly, “first child, technically.” Back then, you thought he cared. That this was actually for your protection. “It's a lot of pressure, maybe it would be better. For them, to stay safe.”

Bruce crosses his arms, examining his older child before looking back to the younger. “You have a point there, Dick.” You've twisted your fingers into Alfreds pant leg, half hidden behind him. “Fine. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to. It might even be for the better.” Neither of them wanted you there, thinly veiled behind words of care, never quit saying it.

Not once then did you realize. There was nothing you could do, nothing you could say, nothing you could show for. Nothing to make them see you, the real you. You couldn't provide them with anything, that made you useless.

“Very well, Master Bruce.” With a sigh, Alfred guides you away as the two leave. He was always the one in your corner. Before you even know this life would be a battle.

This give on the topic began your gradual slope into obscurity. In the hectic years of adolescence, you'd come to the conclusion that private schools are for snobs. You manage to convince the old butler, with baked goods, to allow a change of schools. Not wanting to slow your studies yet overwhelmed by your known family reputation. Public school seemed viable, no one had to know who you really were. There seemed to be no object, or real acknowledgment of this decision.

You used to believe, despite how they act, this was it, this would be your family and you could be happy. Surely, you thought, it's because you're new to them. It must be hard to connect, you found it quite difficult yourself.

So, you decided, you'll just need to put in more effort. Show them that there is something that you and they can do together. You took up everything you Alfred offered to teach you when he was around. You learned to cook, sew and clean the whole manor faster than the master butler himself.

Of course, he had other priorities, not just as your caretaker. Try as he might to keep you at the top of that list, he still has duties to attend. So, you would take your days, even weeks, alone with stride. A good time to build your skills on your own, finding new ways to utilize them. Hoping for something, anything, to bridge the gap with your new family.

“I'll be home late today, Al.” While you had gotten away from uptight private schooling, Alfred still set into a well funded school.

He gives a light chuckle of disbelief over the phone, “You have plans, young master?” Pinching the device between your shoulder and ear, you fumble through your first ever locker.

“It's just a club, I'll still need you to pick me up after.” With all your free time, you thought you'd use more of your growing skills.

“At your service my dear.”

You took time to catch on, years of peeling away from the background. Picking and pulling apart from the inside out, finding something that could peak their interest. Hoping to think twice, even once to turn their heads back to the lone manner.

That's how you found them, their secrets; and the life that pulled them as taunt in one direction as the other did. Digging for a way that you could connect from beyond the twice eye catching lives they live day and night. You were piled with reasoning when you found that special place in the library they all seemed to love. The idea of passing the security felt out of reach at the time.

Walking along the dark water line, looking out to the misty sky. You don't wish for misfortune, but you wait. When that light flickers on and that familiar symbol reflects on the dark Gotham clouds, your breath catches. Ducking alonge the rocky cliff wall by the large alcove, you listen to the rumble. You brace yourself as something in the shallow cave opens, the rumble growing.

Then you have your answer. The Batmobile comes billowing out of the cave, in its wake you hide. Long after its departure from the property, you emerge from your hiding spot. Slipping through the closing doors and wandering down into the bat cave.

Despite how they see through you most times, you're sure Alfred knows when you sneak in. So, appreciating this to be Alfred throwing his hand up and hiding his eyes for your sake.

It's awe inspiring to say the least, especially knowing you live above it every day. It felt like peeking through the lives of strangers and you couldn't look away. You don't know why he kept it from you but you didn't want to be shut out for knowing. Yet, you couldn't satiate your curiosity with just this visit.

You had told Alfred you had a meeting after a club and that you would be home late. For some strange reason he promised Dick would pick you up.

Water splashes up from a speeding tire as you walk along the misty Gotham streets, “Aw man, come on!” Of course Dick didn't show! Why would he? When has he ever?

Now, in this situation, Alfred would wish for you to call him for assistance.

“Over there! Look, look!” Across the intersection a pair gasps and squeals, fingers pointed up at the Boy Wonder. The last thing on his mind as he leapt through the night sky, was an unwanted sister.

If only Alfead could get everything he's ever wished for, but you're not a fairy.

Following gunshot and bangs you skirt around chaos, nearly avoiding an obvious outbreak of costumed thugs. You watch in ired fascination as they beat down each threat thoroughly. As the moon starts to sit lower again and the bad guys are carted away, you realize how long you've been gone.

You arrive at the gates in tune to be blown past by the Batmobile. Inside, Alfred gives you a look as if he knows every secret you've even kept. Thankfully he doesn't say a word, You're out of your damp clothes by the time the dynamic duo ascend to the manor.

For people of the shadows, they never could seem to see you creeping through them.

It's through this that you managed to learn about Barbra Gordon. The commissioner's daughter was someone you could only catch glimpses of from time to time. It was rare for you to catch her attention. Much too preoccupied with her work for the Bat, your father.

The batgirl's skill inspired your own delve into tech. Hacking, coding and even trying your hand at tinkering with new devices. Creations that you've jerry-rigged and hoped against hope that she would even glance at.

She's coming over today, you overheard dick say so. You've poked your head over the banister as you wait to spot the red head. Yet, once she's there, you freeze. Dick and Barbara push through the front doors together. Light rain chasing them inside from the sturing storm. Their foot falls followed by light laughter and easy chitchat. If only it was so easy for you.

You watch as your brother scurries off, promising to grab a towel. This is your shot. “Oh, um!” Words are coming from you before you even know what to say. Stumbling over yourself, you bumble over, haltung in front of her. “B-Barbra?”

“Huh, who?” At the ruckus you've made, she whips around. Head on a swivel 'till green eyes locking on you. “Oh! It's you.. uh..” looking you up and down she stumbles as well.

You have to give her your name, again.

“Right, right. Sorry.” Barbra looks off sheepishly, carting a hand through her hair. Hand flicking droplets from the ginger ringlets.

“It's okay..” that's alright, that's normal Even. You don't see each other all that often.. even though you remembered her name just fine. “I just want to ask you about some-” Unfortunately, yet unsurprisingly, she cuts you off before you can pull out what you want to share with her.

“I've actually got to-” Her mouth snaps shut before she thinks better of words, “Well, um, talk with Bruce.” She finishes with an awkward chuckle and mumbled “Y'know how it is. Always something with the Wayne's.”

No, “Yeah..” You didn't know.

You've never shared more than a last name with the Wayne's.

Patting your head she smiles, “Sorry again, hun. Maybe later?” turning away down the hall Dick had disappeared to. Even to the all seeing eye you were nothing but a mere fly on the wall.

Gothams streets were dark, dangerous, and the only place you could see them for more than a minute. You loved nights like this, when you could slip from the manor. Undetected by the inattentive gazes that should have kept a preteen like you home.

With this habit of bird watching, you found yourself looking more into your subpar self defense. Living in Gotham has given you a natural caution but all too often you've wound up in tight situations. All because you couldn't keep your eyes off them. Maybe if you show them you could do that, fight back, they might see you.

You put yourself out there over and over, “Uh, d-dad?” Alfred insisted you call him that, but it never felt right, “I've been doing, um, I have this..” taking a breath you force it out, “It's martial arts, could you come see me?”

Another paper half glance at before the typical, “I'll see what I can do.”

Apparently, there are some things even Batman can't do.

“H-hey.. I, uh, am doing..” You pull out the flier for your competition. inspecting it over before looking to see him. Half-heartedly glancing up from his comic, Dick gives you a once over before continuing to read, “Gymnastics.”

Finally his eyes hold yours when the word shoots from your mouth. For a second you think this is it. This is when you’ll finally have his attention. Finally make that long awaited connection with your big brother. “I'll see, why don't you ask Bruce?” Dick lays the paper on the living room table in front of him.

“I did... he said the same thing.”

The paper is still there when you come back later.

[aurynsia]

Hellooo, so I am obsessed with the James Potter fic and can’t help but think of how James would react if he caught Harry writing a letter for Ginny the same way he did for reader? Or maybe his daughter received a letter from someone?

Like Father, Like Son

Dad!James Potter x Reader

Summary: James discovers Harry has inherited his lover boy gene…

Warnings: Mum!Reader x Dad!James, reader is referred to as Harry’s mother with she/her pronouns, not edited.

Word Count: 1K

Masterlist

A/N: I LOVE THIS IDEA!!! Thank you so much for the request! This acts as a sequel to this series, but feel free to read it as a stand alone one shot <3

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“Dear Ginny,

there have been three occasions in my life when I’ve known what love is.

The first was watching my parents fall in love more and more everyday, reminiscing on their years spent as high school sweethearts. My dad had confessed to my mum in a series of love letters, initially anonymous before she found him out. They’ve been together ever since, and I long for a love like theirs.

The second time I knew love, it was platonic. My best friends mean the world to me, and they’ve shown me more love in these past few years of school than I’d ever known before. I can trust them with my deepest, darkest secrets, and for that I am truely grateful.

The third time was brought on by you. Ginny Weasley, I’m in love with-“

“Need any help with that holiday homework, love?”

James peaked his ever messy head of hair around the young Potter’s door, balancing a plate of his various house husband specialties in his hand.

Harry flushed with a wide-eyed shock, frozen in place as James pushed further into the room and placed the food on his desk.

“N-no, thanks dad! It’s uh…it’s not hard!” Harry managed to stutter out in reply after a beat, eyeing James curiously as he dotted around the room.

“What do you have there? Is that potions?” James lit up, scurrying over to Harry’s desk, “You know, your mother and I excelled in potions in seventh year! I was head over heels-“

He paused, glancing between the letter on Harry’s desk and his son’s sheepish grin, his eyebrows furrowed in the guilt of being caught.

“My boy…” James began, “Is that a love letter?” Harry looked away, worry clouding his features as he often sought to avoid conversations about love with his dad - he didn’t want to make a fool of himself.

“You really are my son!” James exclaimed, running on the spot to release some pent up energy, “Oh, this is great! Who’s it for? Have I met her? Or him! You know I’d never judge-“

“It’s for Ginny, dad,” Harry groaned, interrupting the man who was behaving like a fourteen year old boy. “The Weasley girl?” James paused as Harry winced. “I know she’s my best friend’s sister, but-“

“She’s lovely! Oh, this is perfect! Yes, what a sweet girl - such a welcoming family, her parents are such a treat-“ James rambled as he paced his son’s room, ignoring the way Harry released the breath he held as he broke the news to his dad.

Harry always prayed his parents would never succumb to the expectations of blood status, marrying him off to some pretentious pure blood girl when he’d rather be with the quick witted red head who stole his heart.

Today, it seemed, those prayers had been answered.

“C’mon, son, let me help! I’m good at this, you know, swept your mother right off of her feet! A poet, she had called me, yes! What have you written so far?”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

You pressed your key into the lock of your front door, twisting and turning to release the latch and enter the warmth of your home.

Letting out a shuddering breath from the frost that hit your neck in the street, you plunged into your hallway, throwing off your coat, bag and shoes before shuffling to the living room fireplace.

“Jamie,” you breathed, smiling with adoration at your husband’s perked up expression, anticipating your approach to the couch like an excited puppy after hearing the door slam.

“My lovely girl, welcome home! How was work? Are you hungry? There’s dinner on the stove,” he rattled off in a string of ecstatic exclamations, jumping off of the couch to wrap you in his strong arms.

You softened at his touch, humming in the warmth of his chest as you told him about your day and asked for late dinner.

“That sounds exhausting, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he mused, pulling you to his chest on the couch after guiding you to the plush cushions with a bowl of food in your hands. “We had quite the eventful day here, too,” he started, bright eyed and reeling, “I’m sure it’ll cheer you up!”

“Tell me all about it, Jamie,” you murmured, cuddling into his chest like it was moulded perfectly for your head. “Harry’s written a love letter, a good one,” he began enthusiastically, “for that lovely little Ginny Weasley he’s been so infatuated with recently!”

He practically squealed at the confession, adding pressure to your waist out of unconscious joy. You grinned in surprise, eyebrows reaching for your hairline as you spun around to face James. “Well, he really is his father’s son, hmm?”

James bounced you on his lap in glee, describing the letter that Harry planned to take back to Hogwarts with him. “And then he’ll slip it under her door! Oh, love, it’s perfect!”

You smiled sleepily at his explanation, rolling your head across his chest to stare up at him dreamily. “He deserves a love like ours,” you mused, “I remember that night, I was so enamoured by your beautiful writing…Harry’s got your big heart.”

“And your beautiful brain,” he kissed your forehead, “and your gorgeous eyes,” another kiss, “and your stunning smile,” one kiss more. You giggled at his touch, leaning impossibly closer to him on the couch.

“If all goes as planned, I suppose we should have the Weasleys over for Christmas,” you mumbled with a sleepy smile, closing your eyes and tightening your grip on James’ arms that captured your waist. “Oh! I’ll make dinner! We can have a big party!”

James Potter, the big, strong man with an even bigger heart who just had to make you fall for his hopeless romantics.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Rated R Video

Summary: You and Matt are dating and was invited to do the newest Rated R car video where Nick, Matt, Chris, and Yourself talk about the things you all have been avoiding being in the public eyes..

Warnings: Cursing, use of Y/N, suggestive (i think)? talking ab sexual topics! (lmk if i missed anything)

A/N: the first part of this story will be fluff/suggestive? also this is my first attempt at writing anything so be kind pls :)

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Me and matt have been dating for about 2 years as of last month, so within those two years of dating we’ve had sex.. a LOT… in the van, the house, the shower.. you get the idea.. but when matt asked me to join the new ‘Sturniolos @ Nite” video where they explored sexual topics they have been avoiding since being in the public eyes of COURSE i indeed had to say yes.

the boys and i were setting up for the video, matt in the driver seat, nick in his assigned seat behind matt chris wanted my seat in the car (the passenger seat) i objected HIGHLY “Christopher do you really wanna sit next to matt while he’s talking about OUR sex life?” i snapped at chris “Well Y/N this” he said while pointing at the passenger side “happens to be the seat i sit in while we film EVERY car video so” chris stood outside the car door standing while pointing at the leather seat we’re arguing over. while our bickering continues matt rolls his eyes and before he has a moment to speak nick yells across the car “Chris sit your ass down and pipe down, you’ll be fine for one video specially when the topic is sex so let’s just sit down and shut up” chris looks at me with an annoyed expression on his face and i look at him and jus smile as i sit next to my boyfriend matt and smile matt returns the smile before clicking the red button on the camera and adjusts the camera so we’re all in it.

nick immediately, getting too excited to sit still starts the intro of the video.

“AS you can see, we have a VERY special guest today for the first time in years-“ i stop him “Nick it’s been a month since i was in a video” i chuckle. nick smiles “ANYWAYS before i was rudely interrupted.. we have matt’s future wife, the mother of my future niece’s or nephews.. Y/N!!” i smile awkwardly at the camera and sent a slight wave. “NOW LETS GET HORNY” nick says just a little too excited to explore a new side of the triplets no one has seen before. matt chuckles softly as he speak with a little giggle in his voice “im not sure if thats how we should start this whole video” i smile at his words awkwardly as if im not about to expose to 6 million people what me and matt do behind every closed door, nick and chris have gotten used to hearing me and matt because of the amount of times we’ve tried doing anything remotely sexual at the house.

“so for the first question,” nick starts “what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever had sex at” chris chimes in “bathroom of Target” mine and nicks eyes widen and look at each other, i slowly turn my head back to face chris “t-target?” i stutter in disbelief. he smiles and nods, i press my lips together and look at matt waiting for him to answer.. the silence fills up the car before i get bold “I have to say in the back of the movie theater” matt’s face turns red and he looks down smiling before nick yells “UMMM Y/N?! MATTHEW??” i smile and turn my face to nick “you told us honesty for this video so im being honest nicolas” we all bust into laughter before matt speaks up and says “my answer to the question is the same as uh Y/N” nick scoffs playfully before asking the next one “this one is a bit more Juicy” as he shimmy’s his shoulders “what’s your deepest darkest sexual fantasy” he continues. my eyes immediately widen, in the bunch of times matt and i have had sex it’s not bad but sometimes i want him to absolutely destroy me, like multiple orgasms at a time, make me cry, degrade me, you know all that pizazz, he’s scared of hurting me or my feelings which makes sense but i wanted more i just didn’t know how to come out and ask for stuff like this but i don’t want 6 MILLION people to- i was cut off by nick who’s screaming my name to get me to pay attention “Y/N” nick screams “Are you listening??” i stutter before answering “y-yes i was just trying to think of a good answer” i look over at matt who’s also caught up in thought “but i think chris should answer first” matt breaks the awkward tension by looking at chris as chris shrugs his shoulders and nods in agreement “hmmm,” he starts “id have to say i’d love to eat a girl out for HOURS” he smirks “not saying i’ve never done that but like most can’t handle much after one” he smiles devilishly and nick matt and i all look at eachother and snicker as chris still began going into detail about eating a girl out before matt cuffs him off “OKAY CHRIS, i will go next just to save everyone else” matt laughs before continuing “umm id have to say my deepest darkest sexual fantasy is uh prolly uhm” he stops nervously so i chime in “matt it’s okay come on you got this” he looks at me and smiles before finishing his sentence “tying someone up and like uh eating em out till they can’t move anymore” he places his hand behind his head and rubs the back of his neck but subconsciously my thighs squeeze together at the thought of it before i quickly snap out of it “well since it’s my turn my fantasy is just really rough sex.. yk like.. yeah i ain’t even gonna go into detail about that you can use ur imagination” i look at the camera and wink when i say the last part of my sentence before nick chimes in “well from the constant banging of the fucking wall from the headboard every night you’d think she be getting that gypsy rose ‘that d is fire’ every fucking night” the entire car busts out into laughter from nicks commentary on mine and matt’s sex life. “okay nick next question” chris states “uhm most of the rest of the questions are weird” nick says while trying not to gag from the question, but i can’t help but look at matt looking deep in thought but i can’t stop wondering if maybe i said something wrong.. was it my tone? i quickly snap out of it when nick starts talking to chris about the nights of restless nights of the consistent banging and moaning coming through the walls from matt absolutely blowing my back out, now matt was sweet and gentle and we had multiple talks about what we were into, what we liked, what we didn’t but i wanted MORE… i needed MORE… i bit my lip subconsciously at the nasty things matt and i could be doing in my head.

“OOO A GOOD QUESTION..” nick starts “something that gets you horny INSTANTLY” i smile and giggle before chris interrupts me and says “ASS AND THE THOUGHT OF SMACKING A NICE FAT ASS” i slap my hand on my face over my mouth over his comment, nick beat me to the thought of slapping Chris’s arm before it got any worse. “christopher sturniolo lets stop talking before your mouth gets worse and u expose yourself more then you have target boy” nick spits out “okay anyways, neck kisses are a biggie for me” i say turning the attention towards me instead of chris’s foul mouth. “AH FINALLY ONE I CAN AGREE WITH Y/N” nick cheers “okay okay, sometimes when Y/N walks around in plaid shorts and a tank top no bra.. idk that’s just me personally” matt says nervously but i can’t help but smile at his answer

“well thank you guys so much for watching this uncomfortable Rated R video.. we probably will not be doing this again because i cannot sit though listening through this again..” nick says with giggles in between sentences. matt grabs the camera and points it in my direction closely and i giggle and smile in the camera before he points it closer in his brothers direction and nick says once more “i will never be doing this again” as chris laughs loudly, matt does his little gremlin voice as i call it and clicks the red button to stop recording.

“well that was interesting” i laughed while stepping out the car to get back inside

“interesting isn’t what i would call it” nick giggles out

matt and i make our way to our shared bedroom but he closes the door suddenly and locks it which makes me jump and turn around

“strip” matt says sternly

“w-what” i stutter but clench my thighs together at his stern tone

“don’t make me say it again Y/N strip”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N: AHH PLS LEMME KNOW HOW THIS IS?!?! also pls tell me how to make a masterslist.. cause idk how do that!!

[si11yw0rm]

HALLOWEEN NIGHT.

pairing: bangchan x afab reader blurb: drunk and high one night, you decide to confide in your best friend about one of your darkest fantasies. he decides to help you out with the fantasy, because what kind of best friend would he be if he didn't, right? tags: consensual non consent (cnc), mask kink, semi-public sex, hair pulling, knife kink, dirty talk (praise and degradation), size kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up please and stay safe!), mate pressing, angst, use of little red (reader is wearing a red riding hood costume), baby, ladybug and pet. wc: 7.6k+ (edited, but no beta reading) a/n: this was written half high, half sober. i hope you love it! i know i haven't being online much this (last) year, but i have set a few deadlines for myself this year and i hope to achieve them. happy new year!

You look over at Chan one more time before tipping back your cup of beer down your lips. The flush of the alcohol in your system as it made its way down your throat had your back melting against the couch you were sitting on.

Chan’s head tips forward, and his hands come up to press a palm against his forehead, a low strangled groan slipping past his lips. He hadn’t taken off his jacket when he had started hosting the party earlier, and now you could see the effects of partying the last twenty hours away looked like.

The jacket was slick with his sweat, and you found yourself itching to take it off him completely. You wanted to see his skin and touch and press your lips to him, but you knew what everyone else knew. To Chan, you were just his best friend from childhood that he was almost completely unattracted to and had nothing for.

But to you?

You push away the thoughts as you drop your cup on the floor, straightening up to crack your joints. Chan had asked you to co-host, and as best friend of the year award, you had said yes.

That simple statement ignited a chain of wildfires that had happened that night. You sigh, standing up and ignoring the way the beer sloshed around in your system. You would sleep after tidying up the place a little. 

You start to pick up the leftovers, arranging them in a pile over by the corner. The repetitive movement cleared your head a little, and by the time you were done with the whole den, you felt relatively sober.

Sober enough to wake Chan up and take him up the stairs to his room.

You grit your teeth as you make your way over to the couch and pull him up. You nearly collapsed under his weight, and you get a mental reminder. Chan may look small, but he didn’t play around with his body. You heave, pushing yourself up to a standing position as you take the first step forward.

Chan’s musk and cologne drift into your nose as you make your way up the stairs, and you have to hold your breath at a point because you were sure he was hearing how much you were breathing him in.

You finally made it up to his room, and Chan’s autopilot kicked in from there. He completely got off you and made his way to his bed, taking off his clothes as he got closer to his bed till he was simply wearing boxer briefs.

The routine was as familiar to you as the back of your palm, but you never got over seeing Chan’s body silhouetted in whatever light was streaming in through his windows. He was glorious, like a statute of old. You felt like you were reverencing something of God’s pure creation and you held your breath till he fell forward on his bed.

You sigh, stripping off your pants and top, picking up his sweatshirt on the floor as you climb onto the bed, before slipping his shirt on and snuggling under the covers. Chan immediately shifts, making room for you.

In the last year since you had started doing this routine with Chan, he had always stayed on his side of the bed, no matter how gone he was. But this night? He turns over and pulls you in by your waist, tucking your back to his chest.

His heat immediately spreads over you and before you can speak, Chan does, his lips directly against your ear. “You know I always mean to tell you thank you. For putting up with my childish ass. For always being there for me. I’m going to turn it around this year. And to make it up to you, I would fulfill whatever favour you want…Sexual or otherwise.”

Your breath catches in your chest, and you bite your lip, deciding to fake sleep. Chan knows you better than that, so he lifts his hand and smacks your hip, groaning. “Stop. I know you are awake, Ladybug. Answer me.”

“Nothing.”

“You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?”

“It is actually nothing, Chan. Go to bed.”

“I have my ways of finding out, Ladybug. You know that. Isn’t it better for you to tell me now?”

You are quiet for so long, the memories of what your last ex said to you when you told him about this cropping up into your head. You couldn’t tell Chan that. He would leave you alone, just like everyone else.

You are about to say it’s nothing when Chan moves, tugging you under him as he shifts up on his palms. The move makes him hover over you, and you are even more aware of how his scent drifts into your nose.

Chan’s full gaze on you suddenly has you fighting the urge to squirm. Your best friend was many many things, including unbelievably stunning. Looking at him was enough to make you believe in a higher entity. 

His features are so perfectly arranged and fit in his face, and when Chan smiled, with his full face and eyes, you could swear he was an angel. He had to be an angel. It made no other sense.

“I can tell when you are hiding something, Ladybug. Come on. Tell me. You know I wouldn’t judge.” His voice is smoky, and it was pouring over you like a cup of honey slides down your throat in the morning.

You open your mouth, the words getting stuck somewhere in your throat, and the intensity of his gaze on you makes you finally look away. Your eyes land on the alarm clock on his bedside table, and it makes you remember a particular fact.

Before Chan crashed out after a party, he never remembered anything you said to him when you were in bed together.

You had told him about your ex last time, and from the way he had hugged Nick earlier this night, you were sure he couldn’t remember. Chan was fiercely protective of you, and learning that Nick cheated on you would make Chan end anything that amounted to Nick’s social life on campus.

The information has your tongue loosening. “I want to be chased down. And then fucked.” 

You close your eyes, and Chan shifts above you, and you can feel his eyes on your face. “Fucked? Like forced?”

The two words leaving his mouth made it sound so sinfully delicious, and you were suddenly aware of how drunk you still were, even though you felt sober. This was wrong.

You nod, swallowing. “Yes. I want it to hurt sometimes. Have someone pin me down and have their way with me. To force me into submission.”

Chan is so quiet that you immediately regret speaking, and you are about to push him off you when his hand comes up to rest on your neck, pinning you in place. “So, say the person had you like this, you would want that?”

The room is so silent that you are sure a pin could have dropped and you would be aware of it, but you still refuse to open your eyes and look at him. “I would put up a struggle, but yes. I would want it.”

Chan moves off you in one swift move, and you feel your chest loosen. You hadn’t even known there was a tightness in it before. You hear Chan land on his side of the bed, and you shift onto your side, opening your eyes to look at the alarm clock.

It wasn’t even up to twenty minutes since you looked at it last, but the minute between you and Chan had felt like a century. It was as if you had been thrown into an alternate world where time moved much much slower.

Chan is silent, and you turn over a little, and you immediately notice his position. Chan usually slept in one particular way, and when you teased him about it, he complained that it was because he shared a room with his friends during their bi-annual road trips.

He was already sleeping. 

You can’t tell if the shake in your chest is disappointment or relief, and you turn back on your side, pressing your eyes closed. You can still hear his low breathing, and you start counting backwards from ten as you try to regulate yours.

You had already told Chan, so there was nothing you could do now but sleep, and pray that he already forgot when you both woke up the next morning.

“You feel it in your system, you want it more.”

Chan woke up first, and the first thing you notice when you open your eyes is the smell of fresh coffee and bacon. Chan lived in a huge apartment that wasn’t so far from your campus, and he had bought it with one of his other best friends, Changbin.

You immediately pull on one of his sweatpants, tightening the waistband as you move downstairs. The apartment was big enough to contain over twelve rooms, with a basement gym and movie theater. You hadn’t understood the need for that much space till you met the other six occupants, apart from Chan and Changbin.

Half of them were already in the dining room, nursing steaming cups of coffee. Felix brightens up when he sees you enter, his usually messy hair pulled back into a ponytail at his nape. “You are up earlier than Chan was expecting.”

It was an inside joke that Chan and you were in a relationship, and no matter how much you tried to convince them otherwise, the rest of the gang didn’t believe it. You were sure they teased you sometimes just for the sole fact of getting you worked up.

“When was he expecting me?” You slide into the seat across from him, sitting opposite Seungmin, who had his head on the table. He was the one controlling the DJ booth yesterday with Han and Chan, so you are surprised to see him at the table.

“After his shower.” Hyunjin answers before Felix can, making the latter smack his arm. Hyunjin looks refreshingly fresh, and you wince when you glance down at your outfit. You could tell he was on his way out just by looking at him, and it explained his absence last night.

Chan walks into the dining room, balancing four plates on his arm, Minho behind him. Chan’s face breaks into a smile when he sees you, and everyone else at the table groans.

“Great, now we are subjected to being third wheels again.” Seungmin grumbles this as he lifts his head, swiping one plate from Chan immediately he reaches the dining table. Seungmin tosses a bacon into his mouth, ignoring the glare from Chan.

“How did you sleep, Ladybug?” Chan places the other three plates on the table, before pushing one in your direction. Minho places two plates down on the table and throws you a warm smile before sitting down next to Hyunjin.

“It was great. Breakfast woke me up.” You gingerly spear a bacon with your fork, and Chan doesn’t sit down like you were expecting. He stands instead, his eyes flickering. Your heart catches in your throat, almost expecting him to bring up last night and what happened in his bed after, but Chan just smiles.

“Great! I was hoping it would. I am just going to shower. You remember Jay is expecting us for our project, so you better hurry. I would drop you off at home to shower up and change.” He drops a kiss to your forehead before breezing out of the kitchen, and your heart is heavy with longing as you watch him go.

Minho’s voice breaks you out of the trace, and you start with surprise. “I know we all joke about it, but when are you going to tell him that you are in love with him? I am pretty sure everyone but Chan can tell by now.”

You flinch, glaring at him, but Minho just shrugs, turning to Hyunjin. “I am not lying, am I?”

Hyunjin also ignores your glare as he spreads avocado over his toast, before sprinkling salt on top of it. “I am sorry to disappoint you, Sugar, but Minho is right. It is sickeningly obvious. Even a blind bat could tell if they just spent time with the two of you.”

Seungmin laughs, almost spilling his coffee everywhere and you sigh, resting your head back on your chair. “He doesn’t feel the same, and I am sure that it will pass soon enough. I just don’t want him to think I am one of his fangirls or anything.”

Felix rolls his eyes before snorting, and he passes off one of his bacon strips to Seungmin’s plate. “If it makes you sleep better at night, darling, I wouldn’t say anything more.”

You don’t say anything else as you finish your breakfast, and when 

Chris had invited you for his Halloween party, this time as a guest and not a co host. That was the only reason you had agreed, but you currently wished you were back in your bed.

The turnout was massive, and you could tell Chris was thriving. He always did, especially when he was the center of attention.

The house lights are blurring your vision and the music's loud enough that it starts to hurt your head. The strap of your bra slips, and you yank it up before turning to Chan, who was still looking at his phone and nursing a red cup. 

“I am going upstairs. I might head up to your room, just to change and sleep.” You have to step close enough that his scent is wrapped around your nose and settling somewhere between your skin for him to hear you, and you pull back to see Chan nod.

His Ghostface mask is obscuring your view of his eyes, but his hand drops to cup yours, before squeezing once. “I will wrap the party myself, Ladybug. You have done enough. Go ahead.”

Chan smacks your hip, and your cheeks flush crismon, and you pray the party lights hide it from him as you step past him, heading up towards the back steps. Chan had sealed off the main stairs leading upstairs after a few partygoers had started using the bedrooms for sex, and you still shivered when you remember how livid he was.

You are about to take off your hood and reach for the door knob when you feel someone coming up from behind you, and before you know it, a pair of hands blocks your vision. Your first instinct is to knee them in the balls with the heel of your boots, but a low voice vibrates in your ear and your anger clears.

You would recognize that voice anywhere, even in your sleep.

“Boo, Little Red.”

You sigh with annoyance, pushing Chan off. He laughs as he steps back, and you turn to face him, and you can’t see his face, but you know he has a sheepish expression on. “That wasn’t funny, Christopher.”

Your use of his full name makes him flinch, but he just slips his hands under those robes, and into what you assumed is his pockets. “I was thinking about something. You know the path to the rooftop gardens, right?”

He waits until you nod before he starts speaking again. "Do you remember what you told me that night in bed?"

He doesn't have to clarify, and you feel your cheeks flush red as you immediately close your mouth to say something, but Chan laughs, raising his hand. "Ladybug, it's fine. I am not disgusted. I am not Nick."

You flinch, and Chan's voice turns into pure venom, making goosebumps spread up over your arms. "I assure you that that bastard would not be disturbing you ever again."

The words jumble around in your throat, but all that leaves your mouth is "You remember everything I tell you."

Chan laughs, and it is a low smoky sound that has your heart racing. "I do, Ladybug. I am sorry for making it seem like I haven't, but I knew you wouldn't talk about it otherwise. And I would take everything I can get of you."

You are sure the shock and confusion is written all over your face because Chan steps forward, holding your hands. "I want to do that with you. I need to know if you trust me to do that. If you trust me to do that here...and now."

He tips the bottom of his mask up, placing his Ghostface mask at the top of his head and exposing his face, and you see his eyes, and the clatter in your head comes to a shrieking stop, and Chan smiles. "If you don't want to, we go to my room and watch anime and forget this ever happened."

The unspoken but lingered in the air, and you found yourself melting the longer his eyes stayed on you. You wanted it with Chan, and this entire moment felt like a fever dream, but you wanted to be selfish. "I trust you, Christopher."

Chan groans, shaking his head. "You have to stop calling me that. Come on, get into the room." He didn't let you answer, reaching behind you to open the room to his door and push you inside, shutting the door shut behind you.

"Sit." The pure command in his voice has you moving, and you take a seat on his bed, watching him come to stand in front of you. He folds his arms around his chest, and even under the robes he was wearing, you could make out the build of his arms.

You push down the desire bubbling through you as Chan's lips purse, and he clears his throat. "You should have a safe word prepared, but I am going to tell you what my plan is."

Chan comes to stand in front of you, dropping to a squat. He is careful to not touch you, but you wished he would. "I am going to chase you up to the roof. Then I would pin you down and use my knife on you. If you want us to go further, we will. Otherwise, I am fine ending things there."

"Knife?" You echo, and Chan smirks, and a shiver of fear dances down your spine. He brings out a small penknife from underneath his robes, before pressing against the skin above your garter.

The cool steel of the knife is like pure fire against your heated skin, and you can't stop the moan from spilling out your mouth. Chan's eyes flash with heat, but his hand doesn't shake. "I wouldn't cut you, unless you want that."

He didn't make it a question, but it might as well have been one. You shake your head, and Chan lifts the knife off your skin immediately. You try to keep the disappointment from showing on your face, but when Chan smirks, you are reminded that you can't hide anything from him.

"That's it. You can try to push me off, but I assure you wouldn't be able to. If I am going too far but you want to continue, tap any part of my body three times." He gets to his feet, and you have to crane your head back to stare up into his face. "Do you have a safe word?"

"Vodka." You say, referencing the liquor that you both drank the first time you had met. From the way Chan smiles, you know he got the connection.

"Okay, Ladybug. One more thing. Am I allowed to kiss you?" He grabs your arm, yanking you up. You nearly collapse into his arms before he steadies you, and you take a small step back.

"It's fine." You say, feeling your palms get sweaty. You had seen him kissing other people before, of both genders, and you had longed to be the one behind his lips. You couldn't believe it was about to happen.

Chan smiles, one of his bright genuine smiles that lit up his entire face and made your stupid foolish heart beat like it was pumped up on adrenaline in your chest.

"Great. Are you ready? I am inclined to give you a headstart." He steps back as he speaks, tugging his mask back over his face. He cocks his head, watching you wipe your palms on your skirt.

"I am ready." You step forward towards the door, pressing your hand on the door handle and push it open, and the thrill starts to burn its way through your system. You can hear Chan behind you, and before you step your foot over the threshold, he starts talking.

“Immediately your foot goes over that frame, the game is on. You got that, right?” His voice is muffled because of the mask, but you can hear him as clear as day anyway. You knew his voice like the back of your own hand.

Chan is silent, and you glance over your shoulders to see him bending down to take off his shoes. Instinct spikes its way through your muscles, and you immediately jump forward, taking off running. You can hear Chan laughing behind you, but it doesn’t make you slow down.

You can hear your heart beating funny in your chest, and the pounding is enough to give you a headache. You cut through the gym rooms, heading for the other hallway. It would mean you would have to climb an additional flight of steps, but you don’t care.

“Don’t run from me, little Red. You know I would catch you regardless.” Maybe it’s the excitement, but Chan’s voice sounds menacing, and you can’t stop the shiver that climbs up your spine.

You yank your skirt up, even though it wasn’t restricting you and jump the flight of streets, hearing his heavy footsteps get faster behind you. You risk taking a look over your shoulder, and your heart leaps in your throat once you see the distance between the two of you. You grit your teeth as you move up the steps, before finally getting to the top and pushing the glass door open.

The rooftop was domed, and the boys had filled it with all sorts of things, since it was here almost everyone came to lounge and hang out. It was huge as well, meaning they had an infinite amount of possibilities when it came to furnishing the place, so you weren’t surprised someone put a bed.

You wouldn’t have minded Chan using the floor, but considering this was your first time doing this fantasy, you wanted it to be special. And comfortable. You haven’t stopped running, since the bed is on the far edge of the roof.

Behind you, you hear the distinct sound of the door opening and you curse, miscalculating a step. It makes your skirt hook in the joystick of an arcade machine, and you start tugging it out, breaking it free just as Chan caught up to you, ducking and grabbing low to get a hold of your ankle.

A scream gets stuck in your throat as you tip forward, and you fling out your hands to brace your fall.

You land against the carpeted grass, and you scream as Chan’s grip on your ankle tightens and he tugs you back, before his hands slide under your thighs and pick you up. Your scream cuts off as you land on his shoulders, and he walks you both over to the bed, before tossing you on it.

You spin around, both palms coming up to push him off you, but Chan was right. His body is like a rock, and a chuckle leaves his lips, making you shiver.

He grabs you, spinning you back to land on your stomach and pins you down with one hand on your neck. His other hand roams along your body, rubbing up and down your side, before squeezing your breast, and the hand on your neck grips your nape, giving it a light squeeze.

“You are so pretty like this, Ladybug.” You squirm and raise your hips off the bed as his hands move back down, teasing under the hem of your skirt. You don’t think as you kick, and Chan curses, his grip on you loosening enough that you can push him off you.

Scrambling on your hands and knees, you try to get off the bed, but you are not quick enough as he grabs you again, before pushing you flat on your stomach. Your face slams against one of the pillows as a garbled scream escapes you, and the sound falling from your lips coaxes a low chuckle out of him.

Chan has his hand back on your nape, a tighter grip this time, and you whine, pushing back against him. You bite the hand that’s beside your head, but Chan’s grip doesn’t budge and you are about to kick him again when he shifts position.

He leaves the hand on your nape, before settling down to hover above your spine, giving leverage to lift his free hand off the bed. You are about to try jerking again when you suddenly feel something cold press against the side of your neck, and you freeze on the spot.

His knife.

“There you go. I knew you could keep still for me.” There’s a dangerous undercurrent to Chan’s voice, one you have only heard once, and it sends shivers down your spine. You needed him. “Be a good little victim now, okay? I really don't want to hurt you with this. Don’t make me do that, okay, baby?”

His voice tells you he wouldn’t hesitate to use the knife on you like that, but the memory of his promise back in the bedroom isn’t enough to loosen the ache in your chest. You don't even dare to breathe at this point, because you can feel its metallic coolness as it teases against your delicate skin.

His hands leave your nape, and you hear fabric rustling. The pressure of the knife against your neck eases slightly and before you can exhale with relief, Chan curls one arm around your middle, pulling you back and flushing against him.

The position makes you sit back on your thighs, and you can feel his warmth leaking in through your clothes at your back, and you release a breath, trying to calm your thundering heart. “Let me go. I don't know what I did to you. I didn’t do anything.”

The words spill out of your throat, and you gasp when Chan raises his knife again, pressing the sharp tip against the side of your neck. You can’t stop the word from bursting out of your chest, and your voice trails off in a whimper as you tilt your body away. “Please!”

“Pity. But don’t worry, baby. I won't kill you,” Chan says quietly, and the mask is brushing up against the side of your face, and you knew if he didn’t have it on, you would feel his breath against your cheek.

Chan must notice your mind wandering because he makes a sound of disapproval in his throat as he starts pressing his other hand against your stomach. “I just want to have some fun. And I'm sure you do too. That’s all. You can do that for me, right?”

His words have the desired effect and a whimper leaves your throat as you press back against him, letting his fingers dance up and down your belly. 

This is Chan. Your Chan.

You can’t see his face, but you know Chan must have heard your whimper because his hand suddenly slips down your stomach, slipping under your skirt. A strangled gasp leaves your throat as his fingers curl right between your legs, before pressing against your underwear.

“Ah, you don’t even need to answer me, see? You are ready for this.” Chan’s voice snakes into your ear, before reaching down and tugging on your core, and you close your eyes as you feel yourself get slick with arousal.

“So wet. Maybe you have a knife kink?” Chan’s tone is menacing as he speaks, and before you can answer, he chuckles and simultaneously presses the blade against your throat just as his fingers slip between your wet folds, making you gasp and stiffen. 

His fingers felt so good. It has been so long, and you can’t stop the needy whimper from leaving your throat as you fight the urge to squirm. 

Chan pays no attention, instead leaving his fingers where they are as he keeps rubbing along the drenched fabric of your panties, teasing your entrance through the cloth. “Would you like to have something bigger in that cute little cunt, baby?”

You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off by pressing his groin against your back, and you can feel just how big he is. You always knew Chan was bigger than average. His ex girlfriends used to text you about it, but experiencing it in person was different.

“Well?” he whispers, rubbing his plastic mask against your cheek. You can hear his labored breathing through it now, and he seems just as excited as the wetness dripping against his fingertips makes you appear.

Chan was turned on. By you.

The feeling is enough to make you dizzy, and you croak out an affirmative answer. Chan nudges the side of your cheek with his mask, and you can hear a muffled “Good girl.”

You don’t have time to think or ponder it any longer, because Chan suddenly pushes you forward and you land on the bed again. You blink, shock rendering you immobile and you let him manhandle you onto your back. 

Chan moves again, and before you know it, he's crawled over you, pushing your skirt up and your legs wide apart, before holding them open with his knees.

Chan’s hands roam up your body, and you realize with a start that he has dropped the knife somewhere, and his fingers knead your breasts through the fabric of your top, briefly scattering your train of thought. “What a good girl. So submissive. You have no idea how much you please me, mhm?”

His words make you shiver. You inhale sharply when his rough hands make contact with your soft breasts as they slip right beneath your bra, pushing it up, and you can't help pressing your chest against his touch, wanting more. 

He's strangely gentle in how he touches you, despite the power he clearly has over you, and it only adds to your arousal, making you squirm beneath him.

“Little Red's excited, huh?” he mocks as he gropes your tender tits until you feel your hard nipples pressing into his palms. “Don't worry, I'll fill you up in no time.”

His fingers grip the sides of your top, ripping it open and exposing you completely, before trailing over your stomach until he reaches to the side and grabs the knife again. “Maybe I want you to beg for it though. See how good you can be for me.”

You let out a surprised whimper when you feel the cold edge of the knife press between your breasts, teasing at the soft mounds. He's looming over you, his head tilted to the side, and you swallow hard, barely daring to move with the blade so close to your skin.

“Come on, Little Red, beg me to fuck you... or beg me not to kill you?”

Suddenly his hand is on your throat, and you gasp as he closes his fingers around it, while pressing the knife firmer against your chest, the blade scratching along your skin with every rapid breath you take, no matter how hard you try not to move.

“Please.” You whimper, a series of shivers crashing down your spine. “Don't... hurt me...”

Chan freezes, and you can feel the grip on your neck loosen, but his hand holding the knife doesn’t shake. “You would like it.”

He gives you no further warning as the knife pokes a little deeper, and you're sure it has broken your skin now, but he keeps holding your neck, keeping you in place. “Chan.”

Your whisper of his name makes him laugh, his laugh low and menacing. “What do you want, baby? I am not giving you anything until you say it.”

“Fuck me. Please. I am… I want it so bad. I want you so bad.” You are surprised at the steel in your voice, and from the way Chan’s hand twitches around your throat, you can tell you have gotten him.

“Good girl.”

Your head is still spinning as you feel his hands lifting your hips before his fingers pull your panties down. He's shifted to kneel beside you, and you realize Chan has placed his knife right on your fluttering stomach. 

Your hands claw at the edges of the pillow as you ground yourself, still not even thinking about fighting back or even escaping. 

Why would you? You've never felt this exhilarated. This was everything you had wanted, and it was Chan giving it to you.

You watch his dark figure, and you gasp as you notice that he already took off the long black robe and even if it’s too dark to make out his full figure, you know how he looks already. You can’t get rid of the image in your head even if you tried.

When his fingers are back between your legs, you gasp in surprise, blinking your eyes into focus as he rips you from your thoughts. His fingertips move expertly, and all you can do is squirm slightly, moaning softly the more he touches you. 

Suddenly he moves, hands on your thighs as he pushes your legs wide open, before he grabs the knife and teases the pointy tip down your stomach, over the fabric of your bunched up skirt, until you feel the cold metal against your inner thigh. 

You let out a croaked whimper, forcing yourself not to move too much. While he teases you with the blade, he puts his hand over your mound, pumping his palm against your wet folds until a lewd squelching sound rings in your ears that makes your head spin as your cheeks flush.

“Nice and wet for me, aren't you?” Chan mocks quietly, repeating the motions a few times before he pulls his hand back and probes two fingers against your core instead. You brace yourself for the intrusion, but you still cry out softly when he pushes inside you. 

Big hands with thick fingers, and two of his feel like four of yours, as he stretches your entrance and presses hard against your protesting muscles. You groan in response, thrashing your head back.

He keeps fingering you, his digits slipping in and out in a lazy rhythm that he mirrors with his knife as it scratches up and down your inner thigh, and every time he presses the blade harder against your skin, you feel your walls clenching around his fingers.

“You like that, huh?” Chan whispers menacingly. “Knife kink confirmed. Such a dirty girl.”

You bite your lip hard to suppress more telltale noises of pleasure, but Chan makes a sound of disapproval in his throat. “Don’t hold them back, baby. Let me hear you.” 

As if to buttress his point, his fingers switch their rhythm and his thumb brushes over your clit as he curls his fingers inside you, pushing up against your g-spot.

The tension starts to push up your spine, the pressure building almost relentlessly, borderline painful, but it's only when you suddenly feel the cold metal of the blade right against your throbbing clit that you snap apart with a loud mewl, and a broken litany of words leave your mouth as your hips start bucking up, and you no longer care about getting cut. The one focus that drives your head is to ride the waves of bliss, as if nothing else matters.

“Beautiful,” You hear Chan speak, but his voice is in the distance as you slowly come down from your high, and the stars in the sky are like bright lights dancing behind your eyelids. 

Your pussy walls flutter, and your eyes snap open as you feel him still massaging your walls as they contract around his fingers. “Can't wait to feel that around my cock, baby. You are perfect.”

You hear a soft clicking sound when he seems to fumble with his belt, the knife back on your belly. His hands are on your waist then, pulling you down a little until he drapes your legs over his thighs, guiding your crotches together. 

You barely register any of it, your mind reeling from your orgasm, but also anticipating the feel of his dick inside you. You don't have to think about it for long as you feel its tip pressing between your wet folds when he rubs it against you to gather your slick. 

Breathing harder, you open your eyes, trying to watch him. The moonlight is enough now to show you how he looks like a big strong body kneeling between your legs, and his glowing mask makes it all a little eerie, but when he finally enters you, you don't care about appearances anymore. He feels glorious.

Big, oh so big, filling you out more than you would have expected as he presses deeper, nudge by nudge, little rolls of his hips until he bottoms out inside you. 

His hands dig into your waist, holding you against him, and you feel bruises forming, but you don't mind, you need this. His first thrust makes the knife on your stomach bounce, and you gasp loudly. The second is equally harsh as he withdraws slowly to slam back in with force.

When he finally settles into a slow but steady rhythm, you're mewling softly, overwhelmed by how he feels inside you, how your walls cling to his shaft, sucking him in and dragging along it with every push and pull, rubbing so deliciously you feel a scorching tension building up inside you, burning brighter with every snap, every deep plunge, filling you up more and more.

His hands leave your waist to grab your throat, turning your soft moans into loud gasps, as he slowly picks up the pace and rams into you, using his hold on your neck as leverage to angle his pelvis against you, allowing him to hit all the good spots with ease.  

You cry out over and over again, your eyes rolling back, the last thing you see is that ominous white mask above you, before you come hard around him, clamping down on his pistoning cock, your wetness gushing past him as you convulse beneath him.

You feel lightheaded, blinded by bliss, barely able to breathe, but you couldn't care less. He fucks you through your literally mind-blowing orgasm, pushing you higher and higher, until you feel it building up all over again. He lets go of your throat, allowing you to cry out hoarsely as you come again.

He pushes you down into the bed, one hand on your shoulder, holding you steady, while his other hand grabs the knife off your stomach, and you only realize that when you feel the cold blade against your cheek, gathering your sweat on its tip. 

Or maybe your tears, you can't be sure, your body feels like it belongs to somebody else at the moment, and you're just here to enjoy the ride.

“Open wide,” Chan tells you, his voice muffled and strained, and you comply, parting your lips before you feel the blunt edge of the blade pressing against them.

“Tongue out.” 

You follow through, still too dizzy to question anything.

He presses the knife flat against your tongue, holding it there while he keeps pounding his cock into your fluttering cunt. 

You can hear his labored breaths from behind the mask, his movements becoming jerkier as you just lie there, staring up at him, goosebumps rippling over your skin as your legs twitch against his sides.

Your own sounds are muffled with how he holds your mouth open, and you have to really force yourself not to move your tongue against the blade. 

Chan leans down more, putting more of his weight on you, pinning you down, his hips snapping against yours in a wild rhythm, until he finally stills, a loud groan echoing in your ears as he falls forward, mask pressed to the pillow beside your head, the hand holding the knife to your tongue shaking slightly.

That last thrust made you whine as he pushed as deep as he could possibly go, bullying your cervix, and your mind is swimming in bliss as you feel him throbbing inside you, his balls drawing up against your folds as he empties himself in your depths, filling you with spurt after spurt of hot cum. 

You clench around him, trying to milk him, and the motion only makes you moan into the blade pressed against your tongue as another wave of pleasure crashes over you at the sensation.

Your mind is too hazy to know what he would do next, but Chan eventually leans back up, keeping himself propped on his elbow as he lifts the knife off your tongue, and the way the cold pressure disappears makes you all too aware that all that remains is a numb feeling and a whole lot of spit.

Without thinking, you close your mouth and swallow hard, but freeze when he suddenly reaches out and wipes his fingers over your wet lips. He traces your mouth with his thumb, and before you can blink, Chan curses, pulling his mask over his head.

You barely have enough time to drink in his features before he dips down and kisses you, almost swallowing you whole. His tongue slips into your mouth, and all you can taste, feel and touch is Chan, and his name is ringing in your head like it’s the only word you know how to say.

He groans, his hands coming up to tug on your hair once, before lifting off you. His eyes are glazed over, and his lips are swollen and his chest is rising and falling almost as heavily as yours. “More?”

Chan dips down again as you nod once, and as your lips meet, his hands start to trail down your body, giving your breasts a few more squeezes before he grips your hips and brushes a hand over your clit, the same time as his teeth nip your bottom lip, and your low heady is swallowed by his mouth.

Chan leans back, and you let your legs drop from around his lips. His eyes dip to your lips and you push yourself up on your elbows as Chan comes forward to nip your lips one more time before he watches his cock slip free from your cunt, and a slow smile spreads across his lips. “Clench and unclench for me, baby.”

You do as he says, and you can feel a large warm dollop of his cum leaking out from between your puffy lips. He groans loudly and his hand twitches, as if he is struggling to stop himself from touching you again.

“Chan.” Your voice is hoarse, but Chan’s eyes flash with heat, and this time, there is no mistaking what his smile means. 

It was pride.

Chan immediately tugs up his boxers, and you say a mournful goodbye to his cock just as his hands come to grab your waist gently. “Ladybug.”

The soft endearment is too much, considering what just happened and your heart cracks open, and you bite down on your bottom lip, feeling all your emotions for him threatening to spill out of your mouth. You had to behave. He had just given you a gift and an experience you hadn’t thought was possible.

He brushes your hair out of your face, smiling softly. “You were perfect.” He leans in to kiss the tip of your nose, and there is no way you could have stopped the tears from coming out.

“Chan….I–” Before the words can get out of your throat, Chan cuts you off with a kiss to your jaw, sliding his hands up the nape of your neck. He tugs you into him, before falling back on the bed with you tucked into his side.

“You don’t have to say anything yet, Ladybug. Just breathe with me.” You breathe in his scent, feeling his warmth spread over your body. He yanks up the blanket, and you snuggle into him, hearing his heartbeat under your ear.

Chan didn’t say anything, but you knew as well as he did that your relationship just got more fucked up. There was nothing you could both do to stop it.

(endnotes)

AHHHHH! i am so happy to push this out. this one has been in my head a lot, and i am so so excited to start this series. The pairings will be around the reader and skz in university, and while each can be read alone, they will be interconnected.

the next person is going to be minho x han x reader, and it’s going to be about han using the reader to make minho jealous and they end up being a throuple. aka one of my favourite tropes ever. (of course, chan and reader will have their part two, but i have a lot of plans for them, so it is going to have to wait.)

thank you for reading, and any feedback, like and comments you leave behind mean the whole world to me. (please, imagine me with a bowl in my hands begging for your validation)

[oceaneyesinla]

This idea appeared in my brain in the shower and I think it's ADORABLE. Shoto just brings out the cuteness aggression in me

Shoto x gn!Reader

A knock at your dorm room door distracts you from your book, but when you open it, you're met with beige walls and blue carpet, neither of which are known for their ability to knock on wood. This has happened a fair few times in the last month , and that knowledge prompts you to look down.

You can't help your pleased little smile when your hunch is proven correct. Sitting neatly in the doorway is a bunch of pretty flowers wrapped up in blue plastic. They're your favourite, just like always, and they've arrived just in time - like clockwork, just as the old ones are beginning to wilt, a new bouquet appears. There's differences every time, but whatever extras have been added, your favourite flower is always there.

There's a distinctive amateur feel to the way the bouquet is wrapped up, and it endears you to your secret gifter even more. It's clear how much time and effort is going into this gesture, in more ways than one. Someone listened to you, when you rambled about the flower patch in your childhood garden, the one you tended alone while your brother trained with your parents to become a hero. Someone remembered you fondly reminisce about pretty leaves and bright petals, and decided to make you smile.

You crouch down to pick up the flowers, and there's a note tucked amongst the blooms, just like every other time. It's never signed, and it's always so blunt and honest that it circles right back round to being charming. Whether it's complementing your sunshine smile or praising you for your latest training success, it never fails to make your cheeks heat up. You keep them all, tucked away in the drawer underneath where you display your flowers.

Your admirer is making a valiant effort to keep their identity hidden, and you find it adorable - mostly because you figured it out as soon as you saw that first note. He forgot that you know him as well as he knows you. The way he writes his characters is ever so slightly clumsy; he spent a lot of time teaching himself to write - Endeavour more interested in teaching him to fight than to live - and there's a couple of little details that make his handwriting distinctive. Plus, you're shared a class with him for three years; you've seen his writing more times than you can count.

There's a flash of red out of the corner of your eye, and you press your lips together to hold back a giggle. He may be a nearly graduated Hero course student, but he's not very sneaky. He doesn't usually stick around to see your reaction to his creation, instead listening intently from his desk as you gush about them to Momo.

Your eyes widen as your eyes scan over familiar script, and now you know why he's loitering - Todoroki Shoto is asking you on a date. You read the words three times, and pinch yourself for good measure. Part of you is surprised - he knows all your darkest moments and he's choosing you anyway? - but a bigger part of you knows this was inevitable. You've been gravitating towards each other since first year, and honestly, you've been driving your classmates mad.

An almost painful grin stretches across your face as you straighten up, "Sho? Come here."

He obeys almost immediately, emerging from around the corner to stand in front of you. The cautious hope glittering in his eyes makes you want to squish his cheeks and boop his nose and you feel giddy when you remember that yes, you'll be able to do just that. No more hiding the urge to hold his hand or kiss his cheek when he remembers your favourite snack or brings an extra hoodie to movie night just in case you get cold.

Maybe you're getting ahead of yourself. You still haven't actually given him an answer, and he's starting to worry, his bottom lip pushing out into a little pout. You can't take his sad face any longer - you reach out and grab his hand, infinitely entertained by the immediate red flush that spreads across his cheeks.

"Of course I'll go on a date with you. How about this weekend?"

"Okay." His smile is reflecting yours like the moon reflects the sun, and oh, he might be the prettiest person you've ever met.

He lifts your hand and shyly drops a kiss to your knuckles, looking up at you through unfairly long lashes. Now you're blushing as well, heat pooling in your cheeks as he lets your hands fall back between you. Neither of you let go, and you make an impulsive decision - after all, Shoto was brave enough to take the first step; the least you can do is meet him where he is.

"Actually, I'm free right now. We could go and get dinner?"

Your bravery is instantly rewarded with another devastatingly beautiful smile, "Yeah, I'd like that."

[dreamwavesexploringreality]

A NEW PERSPECTIVE

Chishiya x reader

Based on a request: Reader’s caught in rumours with Niragi while secretly with Chishiya.

--

"Where are you rushing off to, miss?" lamented a distressed Kuina as she rubbed the arm Y/N had bumped into moments earlier due to her hurried pace through the hallways of The Beach.

"Sorry, Kuina, I didn’t see you! Niragi told me to head down to the pool for a while. Apparently, it’s not too crowded right now, and I can enjoy some peace outdoors," Y/N replied, somewhat hurriedly.

"Oh, Niragi again…" Kuina’s feigned arm pain quickly vanished upon hearing Niragi’s name come from her friend’s lips. "You know I’m not too fond of him… But as long as my friend is happy, I’ll accept it!" she concluded with a smile on her face.

Y/N sighed dramatically. She was tired of constantly being paired with Niragi, but she had learned, through harsh experience, that it was impossible to change her friend’s mindset. Besides, it wasn’t entirely bad that people believed she was involved with the high-ranking militant. Y/N couldn’t deny the advantages it had brought her, like avoiding sleazy men with dirty intentions or gaining a certain prestige at The Beach.

Yes, it was true that she had felt somewhat uncomfortable at first, especially when she realized Niragi seemed to enjoy the confusion of others and took advantage of it to act more affectionate than usual: an arm over her shoulder, sharing his drink, or even referring to her as "his girl" in front of others. But Niragi was just Niragi, and Y/N knew it. She knew him since she could remember. She didn’t recall how that man, who was a boy at the time, had come into her life to stay, but suddenly he was in all her photo albums, and before she knew it, they were two young adults about to start college. Niragi had been her confidant, her friend, a shoulder to lean on… her everything. And she thought she had been that for him too.

It was a huge shock to find him in that place, almost by chance. After a particularly bloody game that had left her reeling from blood loss, Niragi appeared like a shadow in the darkness, and it wasn’t until a few days later, waking up in a comfortable hotel bed, that she recognized the man who had been part of her life for so many years. It didn’t take long for them to catch up, and surprisingly, Y/N understood, as no one else had, the character her friend had become fixated on playing. After all, she had been a close witness to Niragi’s darkest moments.

Everything seemed to be going well until a certain blonde crossed her path. Y/N had seen him wandering the hotel halls from time to time, even catching him a few times observing the world from the rooftop. He reminded her of a cat, that was the first thing she thought. Always so stealthy, so mysterious, as if he was constantly on a mission that he didn’t care about… but it wasn’t until that game that she glimpsed the nature of that man in all its glory. A strategic player, no doubt, confident, and even somewhat arrogant. His arrogance, however, had saved them that night during the sword game, and as amazed as she was by the man’s quick thinking, and somewhat shaken after her near-death experience, she couldn’t help but approach him.

Y/N remembered that night as the night when everything started. She introduced herself to him with a timid, blood-and-dirt-stained face and made sure to thank him for saving them all that night. She remembered how he looked at her, with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a shadow of unease in his gaze. Y/N would later learn that people at The Beach didn’t associate with him and that he was considered one of the best sword players around, known for successfully solving extreme mental challenges and never hesitating to sacrifice whatever and whomever for one more night of survival. He introduced himself as Chishiya.

She remembered how upset Niragi was when she told him, blushing and stammering, about her new friendship with the blonde. He had assured her that Chishiya wasn’t a good man, that he would take advantage and then discard her like a used piece when he couldn’t get any more out of her. Y/N ignored her friend’s warnings, and her relationship with Chishiya unexpectedly flourished.

The blonde man had never thought he would experience love in his life, let alone in a place like this. But when, later on, he saw Y/N’s life hanging by a thread in a game, he knew he couldn’t live without her and, indeed, against all odds, he was in love. Yet, going against what his heart longed to do, he never declared his feelings, driven by an irrational fear of rejection or a logical dread of losing her in that dangerous world. Even though they weren’t officially a couple, they had shared certain moments that they kept secret in the deepest corners of their hearts: conversations in their rooms late into the night, hands intertwined furtively, or even a few kisses on the cheek in the privacy of the dark. It was a tacit understanding between them: they knew they felt something for each other, but neither was willing to take the first step to clarify the situation. Y/N, in any case, didn’t think it was necessary; after all, they seemed to be fine as they were, and Chishiya thought the same. Until she was seen with Niragi.

Niragi knew about Y/N’s feelings for the other man long before Chishiya understood the closeness between the two. The rifle-wielding man did not hesitate to act when he noticed the frown on the blonde’s face due to his inexplicable proximity to Y/N. They were at the bar; Kuina and Y/N liked to enjoy The Beach’s party atmosphere from time to time, and although Chishiya didn’t share that sentiment, he had no choice but to join the party when he found himself alone in his room, unable to sleep and yearning for the presence of the woman who made him feel what he had never dared to feel. But when he went down to the pool, the scene he encountered couldn’t have been more different from what he had expected. There was Y/N at the bar, ordering a drink and unexpectedly close to the man he considered one of his rivals at The Beach. Chishiya watched with concealed surprise as Niragi smiled maliciously at him while crossing gazes, all the while putting his arm around the girl’s shoulders and whispering something in her ear, never dropping his seductive demeanor. Chishiya was about to approach under the pretext of ruining Niragi’s flirtation, pulling Y/N out of a potentially uncomfortable situation with the groping, intrusive man, but his intentions were thwarted when, to his horror, Y/N returned the smile to the pierced man, nodding at whatever he had said. Such proximity, Y/N’s comfort in that man’s arms… it couldn’t be faked, and as he was about to turn and leave, a somewhat drunk Kuina, clutching a drink tightly, approached him to deliver the final blow.

"Aren’t they adorable?"

Had Chishiya allowed himself to be more human that night, he would have gone to the bar to get drunk, which was what his senses were urging him to numb the unknown pain that had settled in his chest. But he wasn’t like that. Instead, he went to his room and decided that night to end the volatile situation between him and the girl.

That same night, Y/N couldn’t get Chishiya out of her mind, and no matter how much she danced with Niragi or Kuina, or drank a cocktail or two, the image of the blonde kept coming back to her thoughts. She decided, that same night, to end the indefinite situation between her and the man. And that was exactly what she did.

The morning after the party, still suffering from the consequences of alcohol and dancing, she showed up at Chishiya’s door. She knocked twice and waited, with her heart racing in her throat. For a moment, she thought about how bad of an idea it was, but before she could even turn around and run back to her room, the door opened. A half-asleep Chishiya stood in the doorway, cursing himself internally for not asking earlier who was knocking. When his brain told him that this was the moment to end everything and spare himself more pain, his arms stretched out, pulling the girl into an intimate and affectionate embrace, trying to communicate everything he didn’t dare to say aloud. And so, another day, their relationship stayed afloat, unspoken.

Y/N spoke to him that same morning, while they were having breakfast together in his room, about her closeness with Niragi. She didn’t explain the origin of their close bond, as Niragi had almost begged her not to disclose anything about their past. Chishiya swallowed all his questions and showed disinterest in the information Y/N was sharing, which was a relief for the girl, wrongly interpreting that the blonde didn’t mind or even care about her affairs with Niragi. That morning, however, she left Chishiya’s room wearing her characteristic white sweatshirt. He had insisted that she take it with the excuse that her bikini was wet and that if she got sick, she wouldn’t be able to perform well enough to survive the game that night.

Niragi couldn’t help but laugh when he heard his friend explain why she was wearing that garment, and a whole elaborate plan began to make sense in his mind as he realized it was the perfect opportunity to irritate the man he despised so much.

"Earth to Y/N…" Kuina

She was still standing in the middle of the hallway. "Weren’t you in such a hurry to see your 'friend'?" she said, making exaggerated quotation marks with her hands.

"Oh yes, I got distracted," Y/N said, snapping out of her thoughts.

"Go on! Don’t keep him waiting!" urged Kuina, almost pushing her out of the hotel.

Indeed, just as Niragi had assured her, there weren’t many people at the pool; it was the perfect time to lie on a lounge chair, relax, clear her mind, and let herself be carried away by the muted sounds of the hotel. But Niragi had a different idea. When he saw Y/N arriving, he was already in the water, aggressively pushing some of The Beach’s inhabitants aside to make his way to the shore.

"Where have you been? People are going to start arriving; it was much emptier before!" scolded the pierced man.

"I got distracted," Y/N apologized as she entered the pool, hissing from the temperature.

Niragi didn’t take long to approach her and wrap her in an embrace that, for everyone present, could easily be mistaken for an act of love and tenderness.

"Did you get distracted with that idiot?" the man reprimanded her.

"No, smartass. I was chatting with Kuina," Y/N replied.

"The blonde’s little friend… I don’t like her either," Niragi sighed.

"You don’t like anyone," the girl laughed.

"Only you," the man almost whispered with a mocking smile, bringing his face closer to hers in a flirtatious act.

Y/N laughed, pulling away from him and creating space between their bodies. No matter how much she cared for Niragi, she still felt uncomfortable with actions like that, so direct and invasive.

Suddenly, a flood of people arrived at the pool, accompanied by screams and shouts. Everyone seemed so happy; Y/N was still surprised by how deluded everyone was in that place. The pool quickly filled with moving bodies, splashing and spilling alcoholic drinks. With Niragi’s help, Y/N was able to leave the pool and get away from the crowd. Niragi closely followed her to one of the few lounge chairs that remained free after the sudden arrival of the Beach’s residents. He violently pushed away the man resting peacefully on the adjacent lounge chair. However, people kept arriving in droves until even lying on the lounge chair with her eyes closed was not enough for Y/N to relax. The place had become overcrowded in a matter of minutes, as if everyone at the Beach had sobered up at the same time and was flocking to get their new dose of happiness.

"Niragi, let’s go. I’m overwhelmed by so many people," Y/N declared, getting up from her spot.

"Alright, but know that if you had come earlier, this wouldn’t have happened," he reproached her.

They both got up and headed towards the pool exit, but it was more complicated than expected. Although Niragi barked at anyone blocking their way and pushed roughly against those who were too close, the crowd kept coming, and everyone seemed to be going in the opposite direction of where Niragi and Y/N were trying to move.

Given this, they should have anticipated the possibility of an incident. In a matter of seconds, a strong arm collided directly with Y/N’s side, causing her to lose her balance. The slippery and sticky floor didn’t help stabilize her, and the entanglement of feet and legs around her offered no secure grip. Within moments, Y/N found herself dangerously close to the pool’s edge. She braced herself to close her eyes and hold her breath, expecting the imminent contact with the water. However, it never came.

When Y/N reopened her eyes, she noticed a strong grip on her forearm holding her steady. With a pull, she was yanked away from the edge of the pool and brought closer to a firm, defined body. Y/N looked up from her position, pressed against his chest. Niragi.

"Are you an idiot? You almost threw her into the water! You’re going to regret this!" she heard the man roar at a young guy who had paled upon realizing who he had almost pushed into the water: Niragi’s girl.

Y/N turned her gaze to see the commotion in the crowd as people witnessed Niragi’s fury. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw a rather unsubtle and mischievous smile from her friend, just a few steps from the door. Kuina was holding a straw between her lips, which she seemed to nervously chew while suppressing her usual happy squeals. But what really surprised Y/N was the presence beside the woman. Chishiya stood with his arms crossed, wearing his usual sweatshirt, his brow furrowed.

Y/N didn’t have time to react when Niragi decided that those poor souls had had enough of his scolding and proceeded to drag Y/N, gripping her arm tightly, toward the exit and directly to the couple watching them, each with very different emotions displayed on their faces. Niragi advanced ruthlessly, passing in front of Kuina and Chishiya without noticing their presence. This was quite common for the man, as his rage clouded his mind when he was angry, making him oblivious to his surroundings. He would have continued dragging the girl behind him if not for a firm hand gripping his wrist. Niragi prepared to confront whoever dared to stop him when he realized who the culprit was. Chishiya had a tight grip on the man’s wrist, his knuckles starting to turn white. Kuina, beside him, looked on with evident surprise, while Y/N, still not fully recovered from the earlier scare, tried unsuccessfully to free herself from Niragi’s grip.

"Let her go," Chishiya growled in a low voice that Y/N had never heard before.

A sarcastic laugh escaped Niragi’s mouth, tightening his grip even more if possible.

"And why would I do that, huh?" he challenged.

"I know you know Y/N is mine—"

Kuina’s eyes widened, and she turned her head to look at Y/N with a thousand questions. Y/N, for her part, looked at Chishiya with surprise etched on her face. She felt her heart stop for a moment before it started beating even more forcefully and vigorously. She briefly wondered if she might have fallen and hit her head hard enough to be hallucinating. She snapped out of her daze when she felt Chishiya’s arm take her hand and pull her toward him. Niragi’s eyes filled with fury at seeing the other man’s gesture, and releasing his grip on the girl’s arm, he violently shoved the blonde man. Chishiya staggered slightly, surprised by the sudden attack but quickly regained his composure, lifting his head in a challenging manner.

Y/N acted quickly, stepping between the two men and separating them with a hand on each of their chests.

"Both of you, stop. Niragi, go. We’ll talk later," she said firmly.

Niragi looked at her incredulously, but when he met the girl’s determined eyes, he decided to comply, not without giving Chishiya a look of deep hatred and making a defiant gesture.

When Niragi had disappeared through the door, Y/N looked at Chishiya, who was already looking back at her.

"So, yours, huh?" she asked with a hint of amusement, trying to hide a slight tremor in her voice.

A small excited squeal was heard. Kuina. Y/N had completely forgotten that the girl was there watching. The girl and… all the people at the pool. Embarrassment coursed through Y/N’s body, and she pulled Chishiya towards the interior of the hotel, both of them entering the Main Lounge.

"Did it bother you?" Chishiya dared to ask. "The part about claiming you as mine…" he clarified.

"No," Y/N declared. "It’s just that I… wasn’t sure what terms we were on," she said, looking away from him.

The light touch of fingers on her chin made her look up, meeting Chishiya’s gentle gaze.

"Well, I guess now the whole Beach knows what terms we’re on," he whispered with a smile on his face.

Y/N felt the man bring his face closer to hers and involuntarily directed her gaze to his lips, moistening them in a spontaneous act. The next thing she felt was his lips meeting hers, moving in sync with special attention as he kept holding her chin carefully. She closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by the moment, which couldn’t compare even to her most vivid dreams. She savoured that instant as if her life depended on it, understanding that things were going to be different from then on, and a smile reflected on her face as she thought, for the first time since arriving in Borderlands, about the future. Of course, with her eyes closed, Y/N never saw the man watching with fury from the upper balcony of the lounge, nor did she see how Chishiya’s eyes briefly shifted to that place while a cynical smile appeared on his face. The message? Clear and concise: She was his girl, and he wasn’t willing to let anyone think otherwise.

© 2024 [@dreamwavesexploringreality]

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[simplyholl]

Fireworks

Summary: Loki uses an illusion while you have fun during a fireworks show.

Pairing: Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ Only.

See My Masterlist Here

“We can’t, not here.” You protest, trying to talk some sense into your fuck buddy, Loki. “No one will miss us.” He tempts you, raising a suggestive eyebrow. You can’t resist him, it was like trying to hold your breath. Eventually you would give in, needing him more than you ever thought possible.

The Fourth of July was usually reserved for barbecues and pool days, but this year Tony wanted to throw a lavish dinner party to impress some higher ups who still had their doubts about the Avengers. So here you were, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes wearing stuffy suits and elegant gowns eating prime rib and lobster instead of wearing swimsuits and stuffing your faces with hotdogs.

You all had been warned to be on your best behavior, especially Loki and Thor whose Asgardian liquor often times made them and everyone they shared it with bad decision makers. You wished you could blame the alcohol when you took Loki’s hand, letting him guide you out of the dining hall while everyone started to gather outside for fireworks. But you didn’t drink anything except for water. You didn’t have an excuse, momentarily dickmatized, you went willingly.

“Nope. Not tonight, get your asses back here right now.” Tony stops you, pointing to the wrap around porch the others were gathering on. You sigh, giving your best puppy dog eyes to him, hoping it would work. If anyone understood the importance of getting off, it was Tony.

“Don’t give me that look. If we didn’t have the very people who could shut us down in attendance, I would even cover for you. But we have to make it seem like we are the best people they know.” Tony explains, adjusting the collar on his dress shirt nervously.

Loki turns, following him out, never letting go of your hand. Once Tony does a headcount, Loki brings you to the darkest corner of the porch. A flash of green passes by so quickly, you’re sure you imagined it. But this is Loki, and he was always up to something.

“What are you doing?” You whisper so no one can hear you. One of the old men look in your direction, you fake a smile and wave at him until he takes his attention off you. In the distance Mr. USA himself, Steve Rogers sets off the first firework. An explosion of red lighting up the sky.

“Do you trust me?” Loki whispers in your ear. “Yes, but now’s not the time to live up to your namesake, Mischief.” You answer, eyes narrowing suspiciously. You would both be in big trouble, possibly kicked off the team if you did anything to portray the Avengers in a negative way tonight. “To everyone else, it looks like we are enjoying the fireworks. They can’t see what we are really doing.”

He leans down to gently kiss your shoulder, long fingers sliding your dress straps down your arms exposing your breasts. You gasp, trying to cover yourself. The nosy old man from earlier looks over at you, but doesn’t notice your uncovered body. He looks away as another firework illuminates the darkness.

“I would never let them look at you like this.” He purrs. His rich voice washing away any doubt you had. He nuzzles his head to your chest, his fingers lightly pinching your nipples. You moan, and Natasha turns, looking at you questioningly. “They can’t see what we are doing, darling, but they can hear us.”

“Loki, we have to stop.” He instantly goes still. “What’s wrong?” You rub his cheek to reassure him. “I can’t be quiet. They will hear us.” You can see the gears turning in his head, his eyes lighting up when he gets an idea.

Loki drops to his knees, large hands sliding up your thighs until he reaches your panties. He works them down your legs as you watch in anticipation. He wads them up, his obscenely big hand covering them completely as he brings them to your face. His thumb taps your bottom lip, beckoning it open. When your mouth forms an O, Loki places your panties inside. “There that should muffle any sound you make.”

You watch in disbelief, turned on by his antics. You feel the unmistakable warmth of your arousal drip down your thighs. Loki lifts your gown, settling on his knees once again. He places your leg over his shoulder, your fingers tangle in his curls as he dives in.

His talented tongue swirls your clit before dipping inside you. He thrusts his tongue, while the tip of his nose rubs against your most sensitive part. You shudder, lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

Loki takes your clit between his lips, sucking gently as his tongue flicks in unison. Your legs tremble as his soft licks grow firmer. You groan, your panties keeping the sound from reaching the ears of the others. But Loki hears it, he loves that you will do anything for him.

You’re typically a rule follower, always early for your appointments, avoiding trouble at any cost. Until he showed up, he turned your world upside down. You would never consider letting someone eat you out in front of company, depending on him to use his magic to conceal you. You would never trust anyone else like him. He supposed that was what he liked the most. You trust him completely.

He strokes you with his velvet tongue once more, adding two fingers. The intrusion sends you spiraling. Fireworks exploding behind your closed eyelids mirroring what was happening around you. You bite down on your panties, fighting every primal urge to scream Loki’s name.

Loki turns you around, pressing you against the building. He quickly slides his pants down, reaching below to gather your dress, bunching it up on your side. His large hands run along the curve of your backside, giving it a squeeze. He parts your legs with his own, positioning himself.

He bottoms out in one thrust, you moan loudly, praying the panties will do their intended job. You always feel so full, so complete when you have sex with Loki. No one could ever compare. He slides his hand between you, thumb working your clit as you clench around him.

The sounds of skin slapping against each other is unmistakable. You can’t be bothered to worry about it when he rearranges your guts like this. You’ll feel it all night and tomorrow. You always do. Your side will ache, too sore to bend over. It was a delicious reminder of him.

The finale of the fireworks coincided with your orgasm. You were thankful for the noise of the pyrotechnics. Every drag of his cock made you scream as you came around him. He was close behind, spilling inside you as your visitors clapped when the show was over.

Loki turns you around, retrieving your panties from your mouth and using them to wipe away the mess he made of you. He kisses your shoulder before pulling your dress straps back where they belong. You extend your hand reaching for your panties, but he shakes his head placing them in his pocket instead.

Another flicker of green surrounds you, dropping the illusion. Loki motions to your hair, letting you know you have more than a few tresses out of place. You’re smoothing your hair down as Natasha comes over, a knowing smirk on her full lips. “It sounded like you two were doing more clapping than our visitors over there.” She says, laughing as she walks away.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @wolfsmom1 @loz-3 @kats72 @crimson25 @litaloni @zombiesnips-blog @gruftiela @mochie85 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @violethaze @lokidokieokie @buttercupcookies-blog @mjsthrillernp @chantsdemarins @lulubelle814 @anukulee @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @fandxmslxt69 @artemis-13 @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @kathren1sky-blog @javagirl328 @kcd15 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @soggylampshade0 @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mischief2sarawr @ozymdias @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @aoirohi @mushycore @marygoddessofmischief @queenshu @jasmine-pudding @kcd15 @jiyascepter @daddieslut1 @macnbriee @sammichdog

[nomie-11]

First Call Back

masterlist! | part 1 here!

synopsis: after your impromptu move to Piltover, not all of your solutions are solved, but you're finally together again, so maybe this could work out, right?

pairings: vi x reader, powder is lowkey reader's adoptive daughter

“I’m heading out early today, so don’t look for me when you wake up. Breakfast is in the fridge, Powder is At school, and I’ve started the laundry. Don’t forget that ‘how is Powder adjusting to fancy private school meeting’ is tomorrow at 7:00. I promise I’ll shower after work so I don’t scare off the teacher. See you later. Love you, babe.” 

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, September 3rd, 7:32 a.m.

—————

You hadn’t quite made up your mind about Piltover yet. Yes, you had already moved there, and what little belongings you had were already set and away in your new apartment, but Piltover was weird. 

You could tell Powder wasn’t entirely happy about it, too. You and Vi had lined up the move so that Powder would start fresh on her first day of her first year of high school. The two of you (and Caitlyn) had even taken Powder out to get some new clothes, and she appreciated it, but you knew when she wasn’t feeling great. 

It all came to a head when, one night for dinner, you were sitting across from Powder, Vi on your other side with her textbooks and notes spread out, headphones pulled securely down over her ears. 

“How was school today, baby?” you asked softly, looking up from your plate to her, sitting in the kitchen chair she had claimed as her own, her knees pulled into her chest. Her soft, violet blue eyes were rimmed red as she glanced at you. 

“It was fine,” she mumbled, using her fork to push around her food on her plate, immediately shifting her gaze back down. She hadn’t taken a single bite all night—something that used to be foreign, she always used to eat, purely off the knowledge that you had sacrificed something for her plate to be full. 

With a soft sigh, you reached across the table, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. 

“You’ll tell me when you want me to braid your hair, okay?” 

She just nodded, dropping her fork onto the plate and pushing it towards you. “Thanks for dinner.” 

—————

“Did Powder tell you what’s going on? Those fancy Piltover assholes have been bullying her—saying she’s too skinny, that her hair is weird. They took her sketchbook today and started tearing out pages. When she got home from school, she just went straight to her room, didn’t even say hi. I had to force her to tell me when she finally grabbed a snack and took one of your high protein, high calorie bars that she hates.”

—phone call from Y/n to Vi, September 28th, 4:39 p.m.

—————

The walls of the apartment were a sterile white. Powder originally was excited to decorate them with you, but the excitement had fizzled out as quickly as it came. Boxes still sat unopened in the corner of her room, her sketches and art supplies untouched. The bright posters you’d picked out to liven up the place remained rolled up on her desk. She spent most of her time curled up on her bed, headphones in, drowning out the world. 

It hurt to see her like this. Powder had always been the spark, the light in the darkest days. Now, her spark seemed dimmed, weighed down by the move, the new school, and the unfamiliar faces that didn’t bother to understand her. 

That night, as you were tidying up the kitchen, you heard her soft footsteps approach. Powder hovered at the edge of the room, her arms wrapped around herself, looking smaller than ever. 

“Hey, baby,” you said, wiping your hands on a towel. “What’s up?”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering to the floor. Then, barely above a whisper, she said, “Can I… can I have some juice?”

“Of course,” you replied, trying to keep your voice light as you moved to the fridge. “You want your usual cup and straw too?”

She nodded, still not meeting your eyes. You grabbed the juice in silence, the quiet punctuated only by the soft click of Powder’s favorite cup against the metal of her straw. When it was ready, you placed the cup in front of her at the table, sitting down across from her. 

For a moment, she just stared at the mug, her hands cradling it for warmth. Then, she took a shaky breath and said, “I miss home.” 

Your heart clenched. “I know, baby,” you said softly. “It’s okay to miss it. This is a big change.” 

She nodded again, her eyes glassy. “It’s just… everything’s different here. The school, the kids, they don’t get me.” 

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, reaching out to take her hand. “I”m sorry I can’t fix this for you, but you don’t have to go through this alone, okay? Me and Vi—we’re here for you. Always.” 

Powder sniffed, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. Then, out of nowhere, she murmured, “Thanks, mom.” 

The words hit you like a freight train. Your breath caught, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at her. Powder didn’t even seem to realize what she’d said, her focus still on the mug in her hands. 

—————

“I don’t think she even knows she did it on purpose. But it still hit me, Y/n. Like I’ve been trying so hard to make things better, to be there, and she… she doesn’t even see me like that. I guess I deserve it. I left her.” 

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, September 29th, 12:14 a.m.

—————

The next morning, Vi wasn’t at the breakfast table. Powder had barely touched her cereal, her spoon stirring it listlessly. You decided against pushing her to eat more; the last thing she needed was added pressure. 

“Vi’s still upset, huh?” Powder asked, her voice small. 

“She’s just tired, baby,” You said, sitting down beside her. “She loves you so much, Powder. You know that, right?” 

Powder nodded, but her eyes stayed downcast. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.” 

“I know,” you murmured, brushing a strand of her soft blue hair behind her ear. “It’s just… complicated. She’s trying to figure out how to be what you need. And sometimes, it’s easier for her to feel like she’s not enough.” 

Powder looked up at you then, eyes wide. “But she is. She’s enough.” 

“I think she needs to hear that from you,” you said gently. 

—————

“Can you come home? Powder feels like shit, and I know you said you’re going for a run and I shouldn’t wait up for you, but I need to talk to you tonight.”

—phone call from Y/n to Vi, October 12th, 11:23 p.m.

—————

Powder had already gone to bed when Vi finally came through the door, her face flushed from a run that went on for longer than was originally planned. You were sitting on the couch, nursing a cup of tea, waiting for her. 

“Hey,” you said softly. 

“Hey,” she replied, toeing off her shoes. She didn’t sit beside you, instead heading for the kitchen to grab a glass of water. 

“You can’t just keep running away,” you said, your voice calm but firm. 

Vi froze mid-pour. “I’m not running,” she said after a moment, her tone defensive. 

“Yes, you are,” you said, setting your tea down on the counter. “Powder needs you right now. She feels terrible about what happened, Vi. And honestly? So do I.”

Vi turned to face you, her jaw tight. “Why would you feel terrible? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Because I should’ve seen this coming,” you said, standing up. “I should’ve talked to you about how she sees me, about how much she relies on me when you’re not around. This wasn’t fair to either of you.” 

Vi’s shoulders slumped, her anger deflating. “I just… I wanted to fix things,” she said, her voice cracking. “I wanted her to see me as her sister again, not some stranger who shows up every now and then.” 

“She does,” you said, stepping closer, resting your hand on her arm. “But Vi, you can’t force her to heal overnight. She’s grown up. She’s changed.” 

Vi’s eyes filled with tears, and she set the glass down with a shaky hand, wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in her shoulder. “I’m not cut out for this,” she whispered. 

“You are,” you said firmly, wrapping your arms around her. “We’ll figure this out.”

—————

“I helped Powder with her art project last night. We stayed up until midnight cutting out tiny stars because Powder didn’t like how hers turned out. It was the first time I’ve seen Powder smile in weeks. I think… I think we might be okay.” 

—phone call from Vi to Caitlyn Kiramman, October 17th, 10:22 a.m.

—————

The next week, the three of you went out for ice cream. It wasn’t much—just a quick trip to a small shop down the block—but it felt like a turning point. Powder clung to Vi’s arm the whole way there, her sketchbook tucked under her other arm. Vi didn’t let go once, even holding the door open with her foot. 

As you sat at a table, Powder flipping through her drawings to show Vi her latest ideas, you caught a glimpse of the sister Vi had been before everything had fallen apart. She laughed at Powder’s jokes, teased her about her favorite colors, and even let Powder draw on her arms around her tattoos.

“Maybe you should get it tattooed,” Powder said with a smile, pulling back her marker to give you a clear view of the intricate lines of flowers crawling up Vi’s mechanical ink. 

Vi grinned. “You think so? Maybe we can get matching ones someday.” 

Powder’s eyes lit up. “Really?” 

“Totally,” Vi said, ruffling her hair. 

You watched them, your chest tight with a mix of relief and undying love. For the first time since the move, things felt… okay.

—————

“I saw Powder hug Vi today. Like, really hug her—not one of those quick, awkward ones. She clung to her, just like she used to. Vi cried when she thought I wasn’t looking.” 

—phone call from Y/n to Caitlyn Kiramman, October 28th, 7:48 p.m.

—————

Powder and Ekko had claimed the living room, their laughter spilling into the kitchen where you and Vi were cleaning up after dinner. Powder’s sketchbook and Ekko’s toolbox—filled with small scraps of metal and wires—were spread out on the coffee table, and you could hear them trading ideas for some kind of contraption they wanted to build together. 

“They’re loud, but I’m not complaining,” Vi said, drying a plate. 

“Neither am I,” you said with a soft smile, handing her another dish to dry. “She’s never had a friend like him before.”

Vi glanced over her shoulder at the two teens, her expression softening. “She deserves to have someone like him. Someone who gets it.” 

“Yeah, she does,” you agreed, turning back to the sink. “Genius and madness. Let’s just hope they don’t blow up the apartment.” 

Vi snorted, leaning on the counter beside you, her shoulder brushing yours. “If they do, at least we know Powder will find a way to fix it.” 

You chuckled, glancing over at the living room. Powder was laughing now, a real, uninhibited laugh that filled the apartment with a warmth you hadn’t realized you’d been missing. Ekko was gesturing wildly, clearly explaining some grand idea, and Powder was nodding along, her now short blue hair bobbing with enthusiasm. 

“She’s totally doing better,” Vi said quietly, her eyes on her sister. 

“She is,” you replied, reaching for her next dish. 

Vi’s hand covered yours, stilling your movement. “Thanks for sticking with us,” she said, her voice low but sincere. “I don’t say it enough, but I don’t know what we’d do without you.” 

You squeezed her hand, your heart swelling. “You don’t have to thank me, Vi. I love you both too much for you to ever have to know what you’d do without me.” 

The sound of something crashing in the living room snapped both of your heads toward the noise. Powder and Ekko froze, their eyes wide as they looked at the overturned coffee table and the scattered parts of their project. 

“Uh… we can fix it!” Powder blurted, already scrambling to gather the pieces. 

Vi groaned, running a hand over her face. “I stand by what I said. They’re definitely blowing up the apartment.”

You laughed, grabbing a towel to clean up the spilled juice. “At least they’re having fun doing it.” 

Vi smirked, shaking her head. “They’re lucky they’re cute.” 

—————

“Hey, Cait. I know I’m running late for our lab, I swear I’m on my way—I just got a little held up at home. So much is going on. Powder’s smiling more, and she’s made this friend—a kid named Ekko—just moved here from Zaun with his adoptive father. They’ve been hanging out at our place, and for once I don’t feel like I’m walking on eggshells around her. 

And Y/n just applied to Piltover University for night classes. Can you believe it? She’s so nervous, but I know she’s gonna crush it. I told her I’d help with whatever she needs. Anyways, I’m on my way! Don’t wait for me.” 

—phone call from Vi to Caitlyn Kiramman, November 4th, 11:14 a.m.

—————

The day your acceptance letter arrived, Vi practically tackled you in excitement. 

“I told you!” She crowed, spinning you around the kitchen. “I told you you’d get in!”

”Vi, put me down!” You laughed, trying to wriggle free. 

“No way! This is huge, Y/n!” She said, finally setting you down but not letting go of your hands. “You’re going to college! You’re going to kill it. I’m so proud of you.” 

You blinked back tears, your chest tightening at the pride shining in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have even applied if it wasn’t for you.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Vi said, pulling you into a hug. “You did this. And I can’t wait for study dates, and walking you to and from class, and complaining about professors together, and—”

You snorted, shaking your head. “I haven’t enrolled yet, Vi. Deep breaths.”

—————

“I booked a reservation at that fancy rooftop place Caitlyn told us about. I figured we deserve a night out, just us. Ekko’s staying over with Powder—don’t worry, Benzo is cool with it. So… wear that dress I like, okay? I want to show you off a little.” 

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, 

—————

The rooftop restaurant was beautiful, lit by strings of fairy lights that twinkle like stars. Vi had somehow snagged a table near the edge (she name-dropped Caitlyn Kiramman and the hostess got nervous), where you could see all of Piltover stretched out below you. She looked good—too good—in her black button-up, the sleeves rolled up just enough to show off her tattoos and rippling muscles. 

“You clean up nice,” you teased, sipping your wine that tasted like a week’s worth of groceries. 

“You’re one to talk,” she shot back, her eyes shamelessly roamed over you. “That dress is illegal. I should arrest you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “That line’s terrible. You shouldn’t take pickup lines from an enforcer-in-training.” 

“But it worked, didn’t it?” She said with a smug grin. 

The night passed in a blur of laughter and soft touches, a reminder of the easy connection you’d had before life got so hard. For the first time since you graduated and she moved to Piltover, you felt like a couple again-not just two people trying to hold everything together. 

As you walked home, Vi slipped her hand into yours, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. 

The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain from earlier in the evening. The streets were quieter now, the usual hustle of Piltover replaced by the soft hum of distant conversations and the occasional buzz of an airship overhead. 

“You know,” Vi started, her voice thoughtful, “for two kids trying to figure out how to raise another kid, we didn’t do too bad.” 

You smiled, squeezing her hand. “We did a pretty good job, actually. Powder is turning out great. She’s like this because of you, you know.” 

“Us,” she corrected, her gaze earnest. “Powder would’ve run for the hills if it was just me.” 

“You’re underselling yourself,” you said, nudging her shoulder. “You're a great big sister. She knows that now.” 

Vi’s lips quirked into a soft smile, her free hand brushing over her short hair. “I guess I’ll take the compliment. But I hope you know you’re the glue. Powder and I just cling to you.” 

The sincerity in her voice made your heart ache in the best way. “I do. I know.” 

The building loomed ahead, its familiar stone facade dimly lit under the streetlights. As you reached the doorway, Vi stopped, turning to face you fully. Her hands found your waist, pulling you just a little closer, her thumb brushing absentmindedly over the fabric of your dress. 

“I meant what I said earlier,” she murmured, her voice loud. “And I’m so proud of you. Not just for tonight—for everything. Going to college, always working so hard for Powder, you’ve been carrying all of us, and you make it look so effortless. And I don’t tell you enough how much I… love you.” 

The words were warm and steady, her familiar cadence grounding you in a way that nothing else could. “You don’t have to. I feel it every day.” 

Her smile softened, her eyes searching yours in the quiet of the moment. Then, slowly, she leaned in, her lips brushing yours with a tenderness that took you back to the first time you kissed on the roof of her dad’s old apartment building. You melted into her touch, your hands sliding up to rest against her chest, to feel the steady beat of her heart beneath your fingertips. 

The kiss deepened, a slow, deliberate exchange of all the things words couldn’t express. When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, Vi rested her forehead against yours, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Let’s go home.” 

And with her hand still tightly around yours, you did. 

—————

“Hey, Pow! Don’t forget to set your alarm! I need you distracting her all day tomorrow so I can get the apartment ready. Time to propose!”

—phone call from Vi to Powder, June 13th, 1:43 a.m.

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!