#the way I was screaming with my head in my hands at his actions and attitude and always on thin ice

[izzyezalea]

Hi! So glad people are enjoying my first fic!

Please ask me anything, I'm new to this, so give me ideas and recommendations - I'm happy to write for all call of duty characters - IE 🩷

Three Minutes

Simon “Ghost” Riley x FReader | Bomb Defusal | Lovers in War

The building was silent, save for the creaking of metal and the faint drip of water somewhere in the dark. Every shadow looked like it could lunge. Every corner, a trap. Ghost moved like death itself—silent, fast, focused. The rest of 141 was clearing the perimeter, but he hadn’t waited. Couldn’t.

Not when it was you.

You’d been missing for two days. Two fucking days. Intel finally came through—cartel offshoot, using an abandoned comms station outside Al Mazrah as a makeshift torture den. By the time they stormed it, Ghost was already inside, carving his way through the bastards like a man possessed.

He turned a corner. Stopped cold.

There you were—slumped against a support beam, wrists zip-tied, blood dried along your temple. Eyes wide, dazed—but alive.

Alive.

And strapped to your chest was a bomb.

His heart kicked into overdrive. He didn’t even breathe.

“Love?” His voice was low, strained. “It’s me.”

Your head lifted slowly. “Simon…”

And God, that voice—hoarse, broken—but real.

He rushed to you, dropped to his knees. “Stay still, yeah? Don’t move.”

You nodded weakly. “They said... three minutes. When they left. Dunno how long it’s been.”

He didn’t waste time asking stupid questions. He was already examining the vest, fingers nimble despite the tremor in them. Wires. Timer. 01:54 and counting.

Bloody hell.

“Alright,” he muttered, pulling a small toolkit from his belt. “This ain’t gonna be fun, but I’ve got you.”

“You sure?” you whispered.

He paused. Met your eyes.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Your breathing hitched. You tried to stay calm, but the fear was thick in the air, mingling with dust and sweat and blood.

“I don’t wanna die like this,” you choked out.

“You won’t,” he said, sharp, certain. “You’re not dyin’. Not today. Not ever if I can bloody help it.”

He worked fast, eyes scanning the circuit, isolating wires, tracing them back. It was an old rig, Russian-made. Bastards were getting creative. But Ghost had defused worse.

The timer blinked: 01:12.

“Talk to me,” he said suddenly, voice tight. “Keep your mind off it.”

You tried. “Been a year now, yeah?”

“Year and three weeks,” he replied, snipping one wire. Timer kept ticking.

“Thought maybe we’d make it to two.”

“We will. You promised me pizza and a film night back home.”

You gave a weak smile. “With those stupid action flicks you pretend not to like?”

“Oi, I’m partial to a bit of Fast & Furious. No judgin’.”

Timer: 00:42.

He was almost there. Just two more connections.

“You ever think about leavin’?” you asked, barely audible.

He froze for a fraction of a second. Then: “All the time. With you.”

“Where?”

“Doesn’t matter. Somewhere quiet. Maybe a little place with a garden. You like those. Maybe a dog.”

You blinked hard. “You want a dog?”

“I want you. Whatever comes with that, I’ll take.”

00:25.

His hands moved faster. The sweat on his brow mixed with soot. He could hear boots above—Soap and Price clearing rooms. But it was just him and you in this moment.

You were trembling. “Simon… I’m scared.”

His hand found yours. Gripped tight. “Me too. But I need you to be brave for just a bit longer.”

00:15.

He found the trigger wire. Two options—cut the wrong one, and you’re gone. He stared at it. Everything in him screamed to act fast, but instinct told him to go steady.

You were watching him, tears slipping silently down your cheeks.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” you said, voice shaking. “Don’t let them take me away from you.”

His jaw clenched. “Not a fuckin’ chance.”

00:08.

He cut the wire.

The timer stopped.

Silence.

Just for a second, the world paused.

Then Ghost exhaled—shaky, half-choked—and pulled the vest off you, tossing it aside like it’d burned him. He was on his knees again, tugging at your zip ties with trembling fingers.

You collapsed into his arms as soon as they snapped.

“Got you,” he muttered into your hair, holding you like you might vanish. “You’re alright now. I’ve got you.”

You sobbed once—quiet, raw—and buried your face into his chest.

He held you through it. His mask was soaked from sweat and soot, but he didn’t care. Didn’t even notice.

Footsteps pounded behind him. Soap appeared in the doorway, rifle raised.

“Ghost—bloody hell, you found her.”

“She’s safe,” Ghost said, not turning. “I’ve got her.”

Soap nodded, gave you both a look of quiet relief, then turned to cover the hallway.

When you finally pulled back, your fingers brushed the edge of Ghost’s mask. You tapped it gently.

“Can I see you?”

He hesitated.

Then, without a word, he pulled it up—just enough to show his face. Just for you.

Bruised, tired, dirt-smudged—but yours.

You touched his jaw, thumb brushing that old scar.

“I love you,” you whispered.

He kissed you. No hesitation. No fear.

Just need.

When he pulled back, he said it too—quiet, rough, like it cost him.

“I love you more than this bloody world deserves.”

Outside, the evac was arriving. Price’s voice crackled in the comms, orders snapping out.

But in that abandoned building, amid broken walls and ghosts of violence, all that mattered was that you were breathing, together.

Alive.

[sereia4skz]

hey reia,

so the time here’s been quite the ride. The boys are super nice, and it’s been great to see lix again.

I spent time with his friends, Minho, Jisung, and Changbin, this weekend. They’re so cute, we went out to the mall. And I may have gotten to use vibrators on them.

It really isn’t my fault how much i teased them, their reactions were to die for.

We should call soon, miss you girlie!

(Congrats on 1k!! Can this be a dom!reader x brat!Minho, sub!ji and sub!changbin?? I understand if it makes you uncomfortable. Could i also be an anon?)

1k Followers Event | two's company, three's a crowd, what's four?

pairing: cat!minho x bunny!changbin x quokka!jisung x reader

genre: smut

warnings: hybrid au, vibrators, the cuck chair guys, MxM, orgasm denial, voyeurism, dom!reader, brat!minho

event masterlist: #1kShootingStars

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Hey lovie,

Sounds super fun! Maybe you should do something about the brat Minho. 

Knowing you you'll find something fun to do :P

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The food court was packed, filled with the low roar of chatter, trays clattering, and kids screaming over the whirr of smoothie blenders. Every surface gleamed with that fake-clean mall sheen, slightly sticky if you stayed in one place too long. Overhead, fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, like a warning not to get too comfortable.

Minho looked at the long line of people queuing for boba and sighed like he’d just been asked to dig his own grave. “This is going to take forever.”

“You three go,” you offered sweetly, slipping into a plastic chair at one of the bolted-down tables. “I’ll guard our spot.”

“Don’t wander,” Minho said sharply, eyeing you as if he already knew you were going to do exactly that.

You gave him your best innocent blink. “Would I ever?”

Jisung grinned. “She’s definitely going to wander.”

Minho grabbed his ear and tugged. “Come on, snitch.”

As the boys disappeared into the drink line, you waited… for all of about thirty seconds.

Across from your table, just past the magazine and novelty gift store, a different kind of sign glowed. One you hadn’t noticed before. Black background. Metallic red letters, the kind that shimmer under the lights of the mall.

ESCAPE — Adults Only

You tilted your head. From where you sat, you could just make out a few of the displays inside, clean, tasteful shelving, walls lined with velvety paddles and chrome restraints. A mannequin wore a full harness over a sheer robe in the window. Not tacky. Not hidden. Just... waiting.

Well. Maybe you would wander. You stood up, and made your way across the wide walkway, heels tapping quietly against the tile. No one paid you any attention.

The store was surprisingly quiet inside, the heavy glass door muffling the mall noise completely once it swung shut behind you. The lighting was low and warm, casting everything in a soft, gold haze. Shelves were spaced just far enough apart for discretion but close enough to feel intimate, like the whole place was in on a secret.

You let your fingers trail over the edge of a display table. Leather cuffs. Soft, supple, well-oiled. Good stitching. You gave one a slight tug to test the give. Quality.

You wandered a little deeper. Silicone plugs in a dozen colors. Ropes dyed in deep jewel tones. Paddles with words cut into the leather. You picked one up and gave it a little flick of your wrist, light, balanced, with a satisfying swish through the air. You smiled, your imagination playing as you moved to the next aisle. 

The vibrator wall. There was a whole spectrum, tiny bullet vibes, clitoral suction toys, dual-action wands, sleek remote-controlled ones you could wear under clothes. One model caught your eye: slim, matte black, curved with a gentle ridge near the tip. Not too big. Not too obvious. Discreet. Perfect.

You picked it up, turning it over in your hand just as the door behind you opened.

“Are you kidding me?” Minho’s voice was low and tight with annoyance. 

You turned to see all three boys standing there. Jisung rushed toward you first, wide-eyed and breathless. “You weren’t at the table, what if something happened?! You could’ve gotten snatched!”

“I was gone for five minutes. And I'm an adult”

Minho crossed his arms and stalked closer, scolding you with every step. “You’re in a sex shop. In public. In that. With your ass basically out.”

You raised the toy you were holding just a little. “But look how cute it is.”

Changbin hadn’t said a word.

He stood at the edge of the aisle, staring at the toy in your hand with wide eyes, his lower lip caught between his teeth. His tail had gone completely still.

“Binnie,” you purred. “You like this one?”

He nodded, cheeks flushing hot pink.

“I might buy it,” you said casually, watching his ears twitch. “Might even use it tonight.”

Jisung made a little choked noise. Minho exhaled like he was using every ounce of self-control. You grinned.

“She’s gonna kill us.” one of them whispered as you went back to browsing the shelfs

⋆｡°✩

Changbin’s room buzzes with something electric tonight, nothing like its usual gentle, warm energy. The sheets still smell like fresh linen, and the salt lamp glows softly in the corner, but now it’s all undercut with heat, with tension, with need.

He sits on the edge of the bed, legs slightly spread, hands fidgeting in his lap. His tail thumps against the mattress in a slow, anxious rhythm. His ears droop low. Big, brown eyes follow your every move.

You close the door behind you with a soft click, louder than it should be in the quiet.

“Hey, Binnie.”

His head snaps up. “H-Hi.”

You take your time crossing the room, boots clicking softly on the floor. You feel his gaze travel up your legs, stalling at your thighs, catching on the little silk robe you’ve thrown on, barely tied, sheer enough to tease the curve of your hips.

“You remember that toy we saw earlier?”

He swallows hard. “The, um… the vibrator?”

You grin and reach into your bag, pulling it out slowly, matte black, freshly charged. You run your thumb over the button, and it hums faintly, just loud enough to cut through the silence.

Changbin’s thighs twitch.

“You were so quiet in the store,” you say, stepping between his knees. “I think you were imagining this.” You reach down, fingers slipping under the waistband of his sweatpants. “You gonna be good and let me play?”

He nods instantly.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes-yes, please.”

You smile and press him gently back onto the bed, straddling his lap as you tug his sweats down. He’s already half-hard, sensitive and twitching under your touch. You click the toy on again, setting it to a low buzz, and brush it along the inside of his thigh.

His hips jerk.

“You’re always so responsive, bunny,” you murmur, dragging the toy up to tease the base of his cock. “So needy.”

“I-I can’t help it,” he whispers, already breathless.

“I know,” you coo. “You don’t have to.”

You play with him like that, slowly, deliberately, testing each setting, each angle. His muscles tense every time you increase the intensity, breath catching in his throat. He whimpers when you press it flush against him, your other hand cupping his balls, rolling them just enough to make his back arch.

And just as you lean in to kiss his throat–

The door bursts open.

Minho stands there, hand on the knob, Jisung panting behind him, guilt and excitement lighting up his face.

Minho’s eyes sweep the scene. The toy. Changbin’s flushed, leaking cock. Your barely-there robe.

“Oh hell no,” Minho growls, dragging Jisung into the room by the wrist. “You think you get to have all the fun while we sit there listening through the wall?”

You blink. “I didn’t know you were listening.”

“You left the bag on the counter. That toy wasn’t exactly a mystery.”

Jisung’s already kicking off his hoodie, eyes locked on the toy like it might float his way if he stares hard enough. “We deserve to play too.”

Minho crosses the room in two strides, looming over the bed, arms folded, pupils blown wide. “You really thought you’d get away with starting without us?”

You smirk. “Deserve? That’s not really for you to decide.”

“Unacceptable,” Minho snaps.

You tilt your head. “You gonna do something about it, kitten?”

He leans in close, nose nearly brushing yours. His voice drops, sharp and dangerous. “If you’re not careful, I’ll flip this whole scene and make you the one begging.”

“Promises, promises,” you murmur, flicking the vibrator up to a higher setting, right against Changbin’s flushed tip.

Changbin lets out a strangled whine. Jisung climbs onto the bed, already kneeling, eyes wide and greedy. “C-Can I try it too?” He chokes on a breath, flushed all the way down his chest. “Please.”

You look between the two of them, Changbin already squirming, Jisung vibrating with need, and flick your eyes to Minho, who hasn’t moved, jaw clenched like he could bite through steel.

“Take off your clothes,” you order, stepping back and holding the toy up like a prize. “Both of you. Now.”

They obey instantly, fumbling with shirts, pants, underwear, until all that’s left are flushed bodies, eager cocks, and twitching ears. You settle on the bed behind Changbin, pulling him back between your legs like a big plush doll, spreading his thighs apart.

“Come lie against your hyung, baby,” you tell Jisung.

He does, eyes round and glossy. You click the toy on again, medium this time, and slide it between them, nestling it carefully between their cocks, right where their skin meets. The faint buzz starts again, and Changbin gasps, twitching in your arms.

“Now hump,” you whisper in his ear. “Grind on him like you’re in heat. You know how.”

Changbin whines, embarrassed, but you wrap your arm around his middle and give a little push.

Their hips meet with a soft, slick slide of skin-on-skin and silicone. The toy buzzes between them, catching on the underside of each cock as they rutt. Changbin’s head drops back onto your shoulder, and Jisung moans, arms clinging to his hyung’s waist like he might fall apart if he lets go.

“You look so pretty like this,” you coo. “Two needy bunnies fucking like animals. Thought Binnie was the only bunny here.”

The rhythm gets faster, messier, the toy sliding slickly between them. Jisung’s thighs shake, and Changbin pants so hard he can barely speak.

Minho still hasn’t spoken. You look up at him, he’s standing, hands clenched at his sides, cock straining against his jeans. Pupils blown. Lips parted. He looks like he might fall apart from just watching.

“What’s wrong, kitten?” you purr, voice syrup-sweet. “Jealous?”

He glares, but the tremble in his jaw betrays him. “Hannie is mine.”

“Mm. Not right now he’s not.”

You reach forward, still cradling Changbin’s hip with the other hand, and undo Minho’s fly, tugging his jeans just low enough for his cock to spring free—flushed, leaking, untouched.

“Look at you,” you murmur. “So hard just from watching. Maybe if you hadn’t been such a mouthy brat earlier, you’d be the one humping something warm right now.”

He growls, low and shaky. “Please…”

You smile. “No. You’re going to sit. Right there.” You point to the armchair. “And keep your hands on your arms. If you touch yourself, I’ll have to punish you. Understood?”

He holds your gaze a moment longer, then obeys. He sits, legs spread, cock straining up, twitching. You click the vibrator up another level.

Both Jisung and Changbin cry out.

“Good boys,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the side of Binnie’s neck, licking the sweat there. “Show him how good boys get rewarded.”

Jisung’s hips stutter against Changbin’s, the low buzz of the toy loud in the sweat-slick silence. Their cocks rub together with every desperate thrust, the vibrator pressed snug between them, both of them gasping, whining, their hands tangled in each other’s skin like they don’t know what to hold onto.

Changbin trembles in your arms, head lolled back on your shoulder, mouth open and panting helplessly. His thighs are tense, tail twitching erratically where it curls against your hip. Jisung clings to him like he’ll fall apart if he lets go, rutting desperately with little broken sounds falling from his lips.

You watch them for a moment, utterly entranced, two gorgeous hybrids, bodies flushed, ears low, whining and whimpering like they don’t even know they’re doing it.

Then your gaze shifts to Minho.

He sits where you told him to. His fingers dig into the arms of the chair, knuckles bone-white, chest heaving as he tries and fails to keep his breathing even. His cock twitches, leaking steadily, jumping every time one of the others moans. He looks like he might snap in half from the tension alone.

You smile sweetly. “Poor kitten. Bet your cock hurts, huh?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s too flushed, too locked in place, trembling from restraint. He’s not sulking, he’s suffering beautifully.

“Oh, Binnie,” you coo, resting your chin on Changbin’s shoulder, still guiding his hips forward with one firm hand. “Jisung feels so warm, doesn’t he? So soft on your cock. Such a good little pet to rut on.”

Jisung moans louder at that, his whole body jerking as he chases every slick drag of skin and toy and sweat. “I-I can’t–I'm close, I’m- please–”

You reach between them, adjusting the angle just enough to make the vibrations hit perfectly, direct pressure right under both their cocks. Changbin cries out, his body going taut like a bowstring.

“Ah-ah, fuck- gonna–”

“Go ahead,” you whisper, voice like velvet over glass. “Cum for me. Make Minho watch.”

They break together.

Jisung sobs, clinging tighter around Changbin’s waist. Changbin’s legs kick helplessly as they rut through it, desperate to feel every last spark of friction. Their moans echo, high and messy, and their cum slicks the toy, their stomachs, each other’s skin. You click the vibrator off with a soft snap.

“Look at them, kitten,” you purr, voice thick with heat. “Spent. Messy. So well-used. And you’re still over there. Untouched.”

Minho grits his teeth. “Please- please, I need- I'm sorry–”

You tilt your head and smile, wicked and slow. Then you stand, letting Changbin and Jisung collapse in a boneless heap on the bed, twitching and whimpering through the aftershocks.

Your steps across the room are deliberate. Each sway of your hips is a tease, measured, cruel. You stop in front of Minho, crouching between his legs. Your breath ghosts over the flushed head of his cock, he whimpers, hips twitching instinctively toward you.

But you don’t touch. He whines again, more desperate this time.

“If you really want to earn it…” you murmur, glancing back at the bed, at the slicked-up mess of your two bunnies, dazed and pliant. “Then you’re going to clean them up. With your mouth.”

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taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0

[xoxorealitygalore]

Look What You Did 3

Jey Uso x Black OC

Summary: After meeting Joshua, Jalisa embarks on an emotional journey, navigating the vulnerability and joy of an unexpected connection.

Backstage at the T-Mobile Center in Kansas City, Missouri, the energy was thick—buzzing, electric, and vibrating with anticipation. Jalisa sat at ringside, the bright lights overhead casting golden reflections against the polished black of the mat. The arena roared with cheers and jeers, an indistinguishable wave of sound washing over her. She had never been this close to the action before, never felt the shudder of the floor beneath her boots as someone slammed to the canvas, never seen the fierce flicker in a performer’s eyes before a punch was thrown. And tonight, all of it pulsed around her like the very beat of her heart.

Logan Paul stood center ring, microphone in hand, oozing cocky confidence with every gesture. The crowd gave a mixed reaction of some enthralled, others booing without mercy but he basked in it like it was oxygen. His sunglasses gleamed under the floodlights as he paced slowly, talking about his legacy, his dominance, and finally, his desire: a shot at the World Heavyweight Championship.

Jalisa leaned in slightly, arms crossed, intrigued despite herself. The World Heavyweight Title? Was he serious?

Before the crowd could fully digest his words, the champion’s music hit, and a new wave of screams erupted across the arena. Jalisa’s breath caught.

Joshua.

He strode down the ramp with a commanding presence, his long coat trailing behind him, the gold title belt slung over one shoulder. His gaze was locked on Logan, jaw set, eyes hard. In that moment, he didn’t look like someone playing a role, he looked like he was born for it.

The microphone was already in Joshua’s hand by the time he stepped through the ropes.

“You want a title shot?” His voice echoed through the arena, sharp and unwavering. “You think I’m just going to hand over the championship I bled for to some entitled YouTuber playing wrestler?”

The crowd erupted.

Logan fired back with mock laughter, calling out Joshua’s past, dismissing his reign, and daring to say that Joshua would lose this belt faster than he’d lost the Intercontinental Title. The words hadn’t even settled when Joshua’s leg flashed up in a perfect arc, and his boot collided with Logan’s jaw.

Superkick.

Logan crumpled to the mat, the mic skittering across the ring.

Jalisa’s heart skipped a beat. The fire in Joshua’s eyes was alive, blazing with pride, power, and that fierce need to prove himself. He wasn’t just a champion, he was the champion. Her eyes followed his every movement as he stepped out of the ring.

And then he looked at her.

A wink. Then a slight shake of his head, subtle but deliberate, a cue for her to go backstage. She stood immediately, her legs moving before her mind had time to catch up.

The hallway was a flurry of backstage personnel, camera crews, and hushed commentary. Jalisa walked steadily, until suddenly, Joshua was beside her. His arm slipped around her waist in one smooth motion, drawing her close. There was a possessiveness in the way he held her, not aggressive, but undeniably protective.

“Didn’t expect that, huh?” he said with a smirk, his breath warm against her temple.

She smiled despite herself, adrenaline still thrumming in her chest.

They didn’t make it far before another wrestler approached. Bron Breakker, tall, broad-shouldered, with a bright smile that somehow didn’t quite fit his usual tough-guy persona.

“You must be Jalisa,” he said, holding out a hand. “I’m Bron. I’ve heard so much about you. This one here never shuts up about you.”

Jalisa laughed and shook his hand. “I’ve been hearing that a lot. Nice to meet you, Bron.”

Joshua just rolled his eyes and pulled her closer. “Alright, alright. Quit charming my girl.”

As the laughter faded, the three parted ways and the rest of the evening played out like a dream. But it was later at the hotel is when that reality shifted again.

The room was dimly lit. Jalisa lay sprawled on the crisp sheets, her body finally starting to come down from the rush of the evening. Her phone buzzed beside her. She picked it up absently and squinted at the notification.

Flo App: Your period is 6 days late.

Her entire body went rigid. A cold chill ran down her spine.

She sat up quickly, the sheets tangling around her legs, and stumbled into the bathroom. Two pregnancy tests still in the packaging sat under the sink from months ago. With shaky hands, she unwrapped both and took them, watching time tick by at a cruel, glacial pace.

Outside, Joshua stirred. “Jalisa?” he called softly. “You okay?”

She didn’t answer.

The first test chimed. Then the second.

Two clear, pink positives.

Her heart thundered in her chest. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real.

She fumbled for her phone and called the only person she could. Her sister. Tanya.

“Tanya—” Her voice cracked. “I think I’m pregnant.”

Tanya was half-asleep but instantly alert. “Okay, breathe, sis. It’s probably just stress. You’ve been traveling, you’ve been busy.”

“I can’t start over, Tanya,” Jalisa whispered. “I’m forty-six.”

In the background, she heard Joshua shift again. He was awake now.

“You barely know him,” Tanya said gently.

“What would Momma say?” Jalisa asked.

“That you did good,” Tanya teased. “A fine man like that? Worth bringing a baby into the world.”

“Shut up, Tanya,” Jalisa muttered, half-laughing, half-crying.

Then Tanya’s tone turned serious. “What are you going to do? Are you thinking of an abortion?”

Jalisa bit her bottom lip, trembling. “I don’t know… I don’t know if I could go through with it.”

There was a knock on the bathroom door.

“Open the door, Jalisa,” Joshua said gently.

Her stomach dropped.

“Stay on the phone,” Tanya urged.

“Open the door, baby,” Joshua said again, more insistently now.

The alarm on Jalisa’s phone went off. She glanced back at the two tests on the counter, both still broadcasting their truth.

She took a deep breath and opened the door.

Joshua stepped inside, eyes going straight to the tests.

“Hang up the phone,” he said softly.

“Don’t hang up,” Tanya hissed through the receiver.

“I’ll call you back,” Jalisa said quietly and ended the call before Tanya could protest.

“You didn’t think this was something we should talk about together before calling your sister?” Joshua asked. There was no anger in his voice, just quiet hurt.

“I just… needed support. I panicked,” Jalisa admitted.

Joshua stepped further into the bathroom, his tall frame towering over her but not in a threatening way. He looked down at the counter and smiled.

“We’re having a baby,” he said, almost in awe.

Jalisa’s jaw tightened. “Don’t you think it’s too soon?”

“No. This is no problem. This is God,” Joshua answered simply.

She blinked, thrown off. “You’re… excited about this?”

“Of course I am. Look, if you want to go to your doctor to confirm, I’ll come with you.”

“I think I should go alone.”

“Nah.”

“I didn’t realize you were this clingy,” she said, half-joking.

“Clingy? Wanting to support my woman is clingy to you?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Overbearing might have sounded more rude,” she replied, brushing past him.

She ended up back in bed, she collapsed against the pillows, her mind swimming. Joshua’s arm slid around her waist again, steady, comforting. His hand spread over her stomach as if already connecting with something unseen. He kissed her shoulder with the gentleness of someone who cared far more than she expected.

And that’s when the tears came.

Hot, silent, and unrelenting.

Her divorce from Charles had been finalized barely a year ago. She was still healing from that wound, still patching together who she was after being someone’s wife for so long. And now she might be carrying the child of a man she barely knew.

Her phone buzzed.

It was Charles.

She shifted away from Joshua and answered. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” Charles asked, his voice tight. “I went to the house and found your sister with the kids.”

“I’m out of town,” Jalisa replied, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

“You with him? I told you that boy ain’t no good for you.”

Joshua sat up, his jaw tightening. He reached for the phone.

“Boy?” Joshua growled. “I’m more of a man than you ever were.”

And just like that, the argument began. Two men clashing over her like she was a prize, not a person. Jalisa clutched her stomach, the nausea crashing into her like a wave. She threw the comforter aside and stumbled toward the bathroom.

She dropped to her knees and retched violently.

Joshua was at her side in an instant, one hand on her back, the other gently brushing her hair away from her face.

“Let it out,” he whispered. “I got you.”

The cold tiles of the bathroom floor pressed against Jalisa’s knees as the heaving finally slowed. Her body trembled, caught in the aftershock of emotion, anxiety, and nausea. Joshua stayed with her, silent but steady, his presence anchoring her in the moment. His fingers moved in slow, calming circles along her back, a quiet rhythm meant to soothe, to say everything he wasn’t pushing into words.

Jalisa drew in a ragged breath and leaned back against the cabinet. Her mouth tasted sour, and her throat ached, but somehow, the tears that had burned behind her eyes dried up. She was empty now. Drained.

“I didn’t ask for this,” she whispered. Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears, so small, unsure.

Joshua tilted his head. “Neither did I,” he admitted. “But here we are.”

She turned her head toward him. “You’re really okay with this?”

“I wouldn’t have planned it this way,” he said honestly. “But now that it’s here? I’m not scared of it.”

Jalisa scoffed softly, brushing the back of her hand across her mouth. “Well, I am.”

He leaned forward and kissed her damp temple. “Then I’ll be brave enough for both of us.”

The words were simple, but they wrapped around her like warmth in the cold. She wanted to lean into them, to find comfort in his strength but fear clung to her ribs like a second skin. It wasn’t just about the baby. It was about trust. About giving her heart to someone new after watching it get trampled by someone she had once vowed forever with.

Joshua stood slowly and reached for a washcloth. He wet it with warm water and knelt beside her again, gently dabbing the sweat from her forehead. He moved with the same precision he had in the ring, so controlled, focused, and respectful.

“Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s get you off this floor.”

She let him help her stand, his hands strong but careful around her arms. He guided her back to bed and tucked the comforter around her as though she were made of porcelain.

“You need anything?” he asked.

“Some space to think,” she murmured, not unkindly.

He nodded once, backing away toward the window, the outline of his body framed against the city lights outside. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The hum of traffic below filtered through the glass, a reminder that life moved on regardless of what was unraveling within four hotel room walls.

After a few minutes, Jalisa sat up and reached for her phone again. A new text from Tanya blinked on the screen.

Tanya: You okay? Call me if you need me.

She didn’t respond. She didn’t have the words.

Instead, her gaze lifted to Joshua. He was staring out at the skyline, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. Tension rolled off him in waves, but he kept it to himself just like he had during promos and matches, always holding the line, never flinching.

“Do you want this?” she asked finally. Her voice cut through the quiet like a blade.

He turned to her. “Yes. I want you. I want the life that comes with you. Even if that life includes diapers and midnight feedings.”

Jalisa blinked hard, her throat tightening again. “You say that now, but this isn’t just a bump in the road. This is a whole new path.”

“Then let’s walk it,” he said. “I’m not running.”

She dropped her eyes to her lap. Her hands were clenched together so tightly the knuckles had gone white.

“I’m not trying to trap you, Joshua.”

“I know you’re not.”

“I’m not looking for a husband.”

“I didn’t say anything about marriage.”

She looked up sharply.

“But I’m also not walking away,” he added. “Even if it takes time. Even if it’s hard.”

There was a knock at the door. Room service.

Joshua moved to answer it and returned with a tray of ginger tea, saltines, and a bowl of plain rice. He set it down on the table and poured a cup of tea, offering it to her without a word.

Jalisa took it with both hands. Her fingers brushed his.

“Thank you,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Get some rest. We’ve got a flight tomorrow, and I want you checked out by a doctor. Just to be sure.”

She nodded.

He turned out the lights, and soon, the room was cast in shadows. Joshua climbed into bed beside her but kept his distance, sensing she needed it. Still, she felt the gravity of him there. Steady, warm, and real.

Sleep didn’t come easily. Her mind replayed everything: the twin pink lines, the bile in her throat, and Joshua’s voice in the dark saying he wasn’t scared.

At some point, she must have drifted off because when she opened her eyes, it was morning. Joshua was already up, pulling a shirt over his head, the sunlight cutting across his chest like golden stripes.

“You okay?” he asked when he saw her awake.

“Still pregnant,” she said dryly.

He chuckled. “Still here.”

They dressed in silence, packed their bags, and took a quiet ride to the airport. Jalisa’s hand lingered near her stomach the whole time, as if trying to sense something beneath the surface. Was she imagining this? Was this even real?

By the time they landed and made it to Joshua’s house, Jalisa was exhausted. Joshua carried both of their bags without complaint, opening the front door and stepping aside to let her in first.

“Go lie down,” he told her. “I’ll bring your stuff in.”

She nodded and headed to the bedroom, the comfort of the space wrapping around her like a blanket. Moments later, Joshua appeared in the doorway.

“I booked an appointment with your OB. Tomorrow at ten.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You did what?”

“I told you I’d go with you.”

“Joshua—”

“No arguments. I’ll wait in the car if you want. But I’m driving.”

Jalisa gave him a long, unreadable look. Then she smiled faintly.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re beautiful when you’re annoyed.”

She laughed softly despite herself.

That night, after dinner, after brushing their teeth and checking the locks, they lay in bed again. He reached for her hand this time, interlacing his fingers with hers.

“I meant what I said,” he whispered into the dark. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m here.”

Jalisa turned toward him, their foreheads nearly touching.

“I want to believe you.”

“Then let me prove it.”

She didn’t respond, not right away. But she didn’t pull her hand away either.

Later, as sleep began to claim her, she felt him shift closer, his hand once again resting gently on her stomach.

She didn’t cry this time.

Instead, she let her body relax into his warmth, let her mind quiet just enough to believe for now that maybe this wasn’t a disaster.

Next: Look What You Did 4

[tillysslife]

wsp with you—part two

pairing: walker & teen!actor

warnings: none <333

you stared at your phone like it had personally betrayed you. where were the spies on your phone? they should’ve not let this reach your eyes.

walk💙

we gonna talk about this or what?

or what!! that was your choice. there was no way you could face him like this. your face was akin to a roasted tomato and the amount of energy flurrying in your chest was enough to power a neighbourhood at christmas time.

so instead, you did what any spiralling girl would and called your best friend from home. you would’ve loved to talk about this with leah but she was too close to the action, she had been plotting on this for months and you needed some real advice.

with trembling hands you pressed on the facetime button like your life depended on it and waited for scarlet to answer.

when she did you let out the scream you had been holding in, “oh my god!” you said, raking a hand through your hair in an attempt to busy yourself. “oh my GOD!”

scarlet held her hands to her ears, your shriek obviously not what she was expecting. “why are you screaming?” she yelled back, eyes wide with terror. “you either got hit by a car or something happened with walker.”

“he texted me,” you sighed, voice lowered to a normal human level as you flopped back dramatically on your bed. “like, full sentence and grammar. ‘we gonna talk or what?’ who does he think he is, a lead in a romcom?”

she gasps, a smirk making its way onto her face even though she had no idea what they were going to talk about. “right. and to make sure i’m crystal clear here. what the fuck do you have to talk about?”

“oh you haven’t seen it? well y’know that trend that’s like ‘they say shooters shoot. duke dennis what’s up with you?’ well…i may have done something.”

“you didn’t!” she cackled, falling back into her own bed in a fit of laughter. “oh my god, y/n, that’s priceless.”

you whined. “it is so not funny. what if what he wants to talk about is that i overstepped our boundaries and i shouldn’t have made that post.”

that was what you were really scared about. you and walker had developed a true ‘platonic’ relationship and you didn’t want to ruin it because of a stupid tiktok trend that would disappear in a few days. god why did you always ruin everything?

“i’ve just looked at the post and to me it looks like he said, and i quote. “oh. bet?” does that really mean nothing to you y/n l/n?” scarlet inquired, her eyebrow raised halfway to her forehead with a look of disbelief. “god you always were oblivious,” she joked.

but you couldn’t even hear her any more because a notification at the top of your phone read his name.

“babe?” scarlet questioned, eyebrows drawn together. “you’ve gone deadly pale. what have you done this time?”

you dropped your phone from your hands, watching helplessly as it bounced on the bed. “he texted me. again,” you whispered. “oh my god what do i do? do i pretend i’ve fallen off my balcony?”

your best friend shook her head, pursing her lips as she thought. “no. first you’re going to read me this new message and then i’ll help you find a new name and you can fly to mexico, okay?”

you nodded wordlessly, as you exited the facetime app and clicked on you and walker’s thread again. “i’m scared to look what if he hates me now?”

“this is walker we’re talking about. you could kill his dog and he’d forgive you.”

nonetheless, you bit on your lip, eyes shut as you fought for the courage to open them. this was scary. you had never had this reaction to a boy before. was this really what having a crush felt like? “okay i’m ready,” you finally whispered, eyes fluttering open as you took in his message.

walk💙

hey i’m not trying to freak you out. just wanted to talk. maybe not on the internet. fuck can i call you, y/n?

”he said what?” scarlet choked out, clutching her blanket like it was the last thing tethering her to earth. yeah, now she gets how you feel.

you stared at the screen your voice a half-whisper as you repeated his virtual words. scarlet screamed. you didn’t blame her.

“HE SAID FUCK, like a casual swear? he’s giving boy who’s nervous but trying to play it cool.”

“yes!!” you whisper-yelled, very aware that anything to loud would alert your little sister and bring chaos. you paced the room, massaging your temples. “he swore and then said my name! that’s so hot, why does that sound so hot?”

“because you like him,” scarlet said simply, “and because he clearly likes you back. he wants to talk to you. like about real shit. oh my god this is happening. this is happening!”

you let out a panicked literal squeak. “i can’t. i literally can’t do this.”

“you can,” she said, firm and composed, acting like she was your life coach. “you’re gonna hang up this call and then you’re gonna call him and you’re gonna be normal.”

“i don’t know how to be normal?!”

“figure it out,” she yelled back. “you’re hot and funny and charming. go get your man. i’ll be here having a heart attack while i wait.”

you laugh, nervous but feeling a little bit better after talking to scarlet. “okay i love you”

“love you more, go!”

you hung up.

your heart was pounding so loud you could hardly hear the dial tone.

but then—it clicked.

”hello?” walker’s smooth voice came through the phone’s speaker, sounding a little panicked himself.

that soothed you a bit.

“hey,” you said, barely above a whisper. “i hope it’s okay i called.”

“of course it is,” he rushed to say, his voice softly firm. “i was kinda staring at my phone waiting for it to ring,” he admitted with a chuckle.

you let out the softest laugh, already overwhelmed. “i’m uh— i just wanted to say i’m sorry.”

“for what?” he sounded genuinely curious.

“for posting that. for dragging you into… all this,” you said, gesturing wildly with your hands even though he couldn’t see. “i didn’t think it’d blow up like that. it was supposed to be funny. just a joke. and i totally get it if you never wanna talk to me again or if you think i’m—”

“woah,” he cut in gently, “slow down.”

you went fully quiet, your uneven breathing the only sound echoing through the call. “i don’t want you to hate me,” you whispered, voice shaking.

“of course not, y/n. i didn’t think anything bad about you, okay?” he said, voice steady. “i wasn’t upset at all. especially not at you. i was just…caught off guard i guess. you know i love being dragged into your messes.”

you blinked. “oh.”

he laughed softly, like he was nervous too. “it’s not a bad thing. it’s just—it felt like when you posted that my whole world flipped.”

your heart clenched. in a good way or a bad way you were still unsure.

“i’ve been trying to find the right way to say this for a while now but nothing ever seemed perfect enough for you. i didn’t know if you’d ever see me that way or if i was just this dumb guy who pulled faces at interviews while you sat there being gorgeous, laughing at me while being so ridiculously talented. ”

“walker—“ you murmured, or at least tried to.

“no just…please let me get this out. i’m not good at expressing my emotions and this is scaring the shit out of me, but i need to. you don’t know how many times i wanted to tell you, you’re just so perfect and i couldn’t find the right moment. but then you posted that, and i thought maybe, i wasn’t imagining everything all along.”

your whole body went still, frozen in shock. but your words moved before your normally overthinking brain. “you weren’t,” you started softly, “imagining things. god—i’ve liked you for ages. i just didn’t think you’d feel the same.

“are you serious?” he breathed.

“yes walker. i like you, like, really like you.”

he let out this laugh from the back of his throat—disbelieving and warm and happy. “this feels fake. like i’m gonna wake up.”

“you’re not dreaming,” you said, smiling so hard your cheeks ached. “unless i’m dreaming too.”

another pause. a little silence. but it was the good kind. the kind where you both knew everything had changed, and it wasn’t scary—it was perfect.

“so,” walker said, voice a little shy now, “can i see you? like… not through a screen?”

you laughed, giddy. “yeah. i’d really like that.”

“cool,” he said, and you could hear the grin in his voice. “guess the shooter did score.”

“guess so, huh?” you giggled, biting your bottom lip.

GUYS ITS FINALLY OUT!! thank you so much for the love on tbe first part it really gave me the motivation to write this out quicker then i ever have. and i’ll work on the requests soon❤️❤️ love yourself bye💋

[lauracantsleep]

Drive.

Synopsys: Truth be told, he didn't think twice before springing into action. Trouble would come, it always would. They were sitting in the eye of the storm, and he had to make sure that someone would be there to care for Lena. Certainly, it wouldn't be Baz. With Smurf in jail, Pope was all she had.

A/N: posted this on ao3 a few days ago and figured I could share it here as well. season two pope broke my heart, completely shattered it - so obviously I decided to write about it lol. it has been over a decade that I've written fiction with the intention to share, so bear with me. english is not my first language and this wasn't beta-read. also this is not a x reader/oc fic, more like a tiny character study.

set during 2.12 | 1 .4k words | ao3

╰✧˖°°.☾.˖✧･ﾟ･⋆.｡.˖･ﾟ･✧˖.☾.°°˖✧˖°°.☾.˖✧･ﾟ･⋆.｡.˖･ﾟ･✧˖.☾.°°˖✧╮

Maybe he wasn't the best option for her. There's nothing in his life that could assure him that the man he sees in the mirror would be a good father, but he loves her — of that he is sure of. More than her own father does, as much as it pains him to admit it. But not more than her mother did.

Pope's head feels heavy, like his brain is too compressed inside his skull. It wants to get out, he wants to get out, but there isn't a way. It's how he's felt for years now, maybe his whole life, if he were to be honest. He doesn't know — Pope doesn't feel like he knows much these days.

Gripping the sides of the sink, his head falls. Arms straining under a lavender shirt as he breathes in and out. Pope doesn't particularly enjoy looking in the mirror, doesn't do it often, because why would he? He knows what he looks like, there's no need for a reminder. The mirror shows him what he already knows. The hollows under his eyes a testament to all the things he can't undo. There’s a fracture in him, a crack that never healed right. Or maybe he just wasn't born right - he considers that every now and then.

Everything is a blur, all the things that could have been his, but aren't. His wife, his daughter, his home. All thrown away, life moving on without him during his years inside, doing time alone.

"Uncle Pope?" Pope raises his head with a sharp inhale, finding in the mirror a small figure holding onto the door frame behind him. Half in the hall, half here with him.

Lena watches him with cautious eyes — much too cautious for someone her age, he notes. Her voice is but a whisper. She's been quiet lately — a result of living with his brother, who made for a less-than-ideal father.

"Hey," his voice quieter than usual, still hoarse from screaming into his pillow during the night. He couldn't sleep. "Did you finish packing?" Pope turns around, moving towards her. Lena looks up at him and nods, seeming unsure as to what to do now. "Good girl, Lena."

If there's any pain in his body, and not just the ever-present mess in his head, he doesn't feel it now. Not with Lena looking up at him, so fragile. She looks just like her mother, he sees it all the time. The resemblance kills a part of him everyday. A shot to the heart, lack of oxygen. Suffocating inside his own self. Catherine raised a beautiful girl. His girl. Pope opens his mouth but the words don't come, not at first, lodged in his throat. As they stare into one another, this is one of the moments when he wishes he knew what to say. Wishes that the right words would come. Something that could make things better. Something to prove to her that he would fix everything (but that would be a lie).

"Are we going to Disney?"

"No. No, not to Disney." The words come out with a struggle, but as softly as ever with her. It's only with her that he can be this way. He used to speak to Catherine like this too, when they were young. And then when they were adults, when Baz wasn't around. It happened a lot once his mother started training him. "But we are going someplace nice, alright."

When he reaches out, his hand hovers, adjusting, hesitating. Pope touches her the way you’d touch a bruise — barely there, all weight held back. No grabbing. No claiming. Nothing like  her.

But then his palm settles on top of her head, stiff at first before softly patting it once, twice. Lena is not afraid of him, she looks at him with trust, knowing he'll be there to check for monsters under the bed, to take her to school and be there on time to pick her up. His fingers loosen, threading carefully through her hair — just as soft as her mother’s. The realization hits him like a punch to the throat. For a moment, it's harder to breathe, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his thumb brushes her temple, once, a silent apology for everything she’s lost, twice, a promise to do better.

Lena gives him another nod, lips sealed. Pope exhales through his nose. He’ll have to work on that, undo all the damage his brother had done.

"Is Mommy gonna be there?"

His throat moves, feeling tighter. He swallows hard, like he’s testing the gentleness of his voice before letting it out. Words don’t come easy to him, but for her, he tries. "No, mommy is not gonna be there, Lena. But she wished she could be there with us. It's what she would have wanted."

Another lie. He can't seem to stop. A part of him believes that it's because she's too young, fragile, innocent. He can't exactly tell her that her mother is dead and worse, by his hands. No, he can't do that. Maybe someday she will know, and when that day comes, she will hate him. Pope knows that. But until then, he is gonna give her a chance at a life. Something his mother didn't do for him, something he stopped Catherine from doing when she had the chance.

"Okay", her voice comes as a whisper.

Lena doesn't cry. She hasn't cried in a while, save for the nightmares. He's there for her when she wakes up in the middle of the night, afraid of a bad dream. 'It's the man, I can hear him outside', she told him once. Pope knows exactly what she's talking about. He doesn't need to close his eyes to remember her voice, calling for Catherine from the car while he dug the grave to bury her mother in.

Monster, the voice inside his head screams.

Yeah, he's aware.

By the time they leave, the house is bare of anything that matters. Chair still in the hallway from when he was guarding her door, after giving up on sleep. Toys and clothes are packed in a suitcase and Lena's backpack. Pictures of her and Catherine. Some with Baz and Smurf. Anything else is replaceable.

Andrew has his shades on as he closes the trunk, dark lenses hiding whatever flickers behind his eyes as he scans the street. Inside, a final packed gym bag sits beside a suitcase — closed all the way, all zippers to the same side. Another black gym bag is there, though the inside stores no clothing. He barely glances at it. His cut. Lena is strapped to her child seat in the back of the car — something nondescript, the kind of car you wouldn't look at twice, just until they're clear to buy a new one somewhere his family can't trace.

The door slams shut as she reaches for the green case on the seat next to her — a new tablet, something to keep her occupied. Andrew adjusts the mirror as he gets into the driver's seat, making sure he sees her. She seems okay, he tells himself. It could be worse. It's his mess, it's his ruin, but he won't let it touch her.

They hit the road with the California sun setting behind them. His old phone is thrown out the window. A cartoon in Spanish is playing from the tablet, the silly and loud noises taking over the interior, but he doesn't mind. Lena's a child, she's meant to be loud. Those headphones are no good for her. There are studies about that. And about all those hours she's been spending glued to a screen. Yeah, she doesn't need that. He'll get her some books when they're home, new crayons — the good shit, not that crap he used to colour with Julia — and stuffed animals to keep her entertained. He saw a play kitchen at the mall — maybe she could open a restaurant. The shadow of what could have been the beginning of a smile brushes past his lips.

He would give her a new life.

Truth be told, he didn't think twice before springing into action. Trouble would come, it always would. They were sitting in the eye of the storm, and he had to make sure that someone would be there to care for Lena. Certainly, it wouldn't be Baz. Half the time he forgot he had a daughter. With Smurf in jail, Andrew was all she had.

Maybe he wasn't the best option for her. Maybe he could never love her more than her mother did, but Andrew loved Catherine, and he loves their daughter too. He'll love her for both of them. And no one would find them, no one would touch her, no one would get past him. It's just him and his daughter now.

Andrew and Lena.

(his fingers tap the steering wheel once, twice)

They'll be alright.

[hehe-hoho-ohno]

As mentioned in my earlier post, Two Car Train is officially discontinued.

However, as an extra bonus for the Tumblr crowd, I'm putting the unfinished chapter 5 beneath the cut, which you can read if you want to.

[[I will be using square brackets to fill in missing scenes.]]

Station help up a hand, motioning for Lian to stop. “Did you hear that?”

They had been heading back to the settlement, earlier than Station would normally start the trek back but he didn’t want Lian to be out here when night fell.

“You mean the Pokémon?” Lian asked. “It sounds like a fight.”

“Yes,” Station agreed grimly, then took off at a sprint. “It’s hurt.”

“Wait! Wait up!” Lian hurried after him on his much shorter legs. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to run away, not towards it!”

If anything Station only quickened his pace, hoping he would be able to finish the battle before Lian caught up so he could keep the kid out of danger. He crested the hill, and spotted a flock of rufflets harassing a small curled up form. That wouldn’t do. He slid down the slope towards them and tossed out a pokeball.

Magikarp sailed towards the gang like a frisbee, crashing right into the middle of the flock and startling them into taking fight.

“Karp!” Magikarp splashed cheerfully.

“Bravo! Well done. Thank you.” He returned her to her ball and crouched down next to the cowering machop. “Greetings! Don’t be afraid. We are here to help!”

It hesitantly uncovered it’s head and looked up at him. The rufflets had done a number on it. Station offered it an Oran berry. It didn’t take it. He placed it on the ground. “Your cab needs maintenance and I don’t have enough supplies on me to heal you completely.”

It didn’t seem to understand any of that, boggling at him in complete confusion. “The most efficient course of action would be to take you back to the settlement and heal you there.” He pulled out a pokeball and it flinched back, kicking its feet to scuttle backwards.

Station pulled back. “I won’t hurt you. It’s only a pokeball. For transport. You’ll be safer inside.”

“What. Is. Wrong with you!?” Lian panted, having finally caught up. “What are you doing?!”

“It needed help,” Station said and pointed at the machop. It almost felt too obvious to be worth mentioning but Lian had asked.

Lian threw an exasperated hand towards the sky. “Great. Now we need help.”

Station looked up. The rufflets had not dispersed and were circling above them, flying in formation in a way that reminded him of a… dance.

Shit.

“Ah,” he said, sounding much calmer than he felt. “That’s bad.”

“Indubitably,” Lian agreed.

The birds blurred together and dove towards the ground.

“We should run,” Station said.

“I concur,” Lian said, already booking it.

Station glanced down at the machop, who had curled up again in fright. “Please don’t punch me,” he muttered and scooped it up, cradling the machop to his chest. It squeaked in surprise but, fortunately, it was too startled to punch him.

He dove to the side as the giant fusion plunged down, talons raking the ground where they had been. Shit! That was too close. It beat its many wings and ascended again, preparing for another attack.

He easily caught up to Lian and soon began to outpace him. Even though his instincts screamed at him not to, he slowed down so that he lagged behind Lian. After all, it would be the slowest group member who got targeted. Should they pick him up? Lian certainly wouldn’t appreciate it, but that was the least important factor right now. But he was already carrying Machop. Carrying two passengers might be slower than travelling separately.

“Look!” Lian pointed ahead. “We’re almost home!”

Suddenly, what Station needed to do became crystal clear. He couldn’t lead the rampaging Pokémon into the settlement.

Station turned on his heel and unclipped a pokeball from his belt.

And cornobbled the fusion, knocking it out of it’s flight path and sending it crashing into the snow.

“What are you doing?!” Lian wailed.

[Station and Lian fight the fusion and win!]

——

“We have arrived at our destination.”

Machop looked up at him, confused. Station crouched down so he was at her level. “This near where we met, yes?”

She bobbed her head.

“Right. So.” Station absentmindedly rotated her pokeball between his fingers. “You are all better now. Fully operational! That is good. I understand that when you acquiesced to capture it was under duress. A temporary solution to an emergency situation. That’s over now.”

“Chop?” She cocked her head, uncomprehending.

“You can go home,” Station said. “You have the option. I will release you, if you wish.”

She warbled and stepped closer to them. She hesitantly placed her hand on his wrists, light as a butterfree. She didn’t seem to comprehend what he was offering.

“Don’t you want to go home?” Station asked. “Don’t you have things to do, places to be? You were taken quite abruptly. Isn’t there anything you want to return to? Things you left undone?”

She stared at him with a concerned sort of confusion.

“Don’t you have family? Friends? …Aren’t you loved? Isn’t there someone, anyone, who will miss you, if you do not return? Someone who will look for you if you’re not at your station?” He practically begged her. “You didn’t even get to say goodbye. So you can’t. You can’t stay. You’ll be homesick. And lost and confused and…”

She reached up to brush at his cheeks and dab under his eyelashes with a tender sort of awkwardness. He reached up to grasp her hands to keep her from poking out his eyes out by accident. Machop’s hands were wet. So was his face.

Station swallowed, suddenly aware of the lump in his throat. “Sorry. My apologies. I got off track.” He flicked her ball open, intending to snap it at the hinge. “It’s a bit of a waste, but I can’t recall a release method that doesn’t involve breaking the ball so…”

Machop let out an alarmed cry and tugged the pokeball away from them, cradling it to her chest.

Station glanced between his now empty hands and her. “You want to keep it? A little unorthodox but I don’t see why not. Be your own master… or something.”

She sat down in the snow with a huff, protectively shielding the ball from Station.

“Isn’t that cold?” he asked. She narrowed her eyes at him. “I suppose you would be used to it.”

After some hesitation, Station shuffled around so that he was sitting beside her. Yep. He was right. It was cold. And wet. A bit miserable all around. “You seem upset. Are you mad at me?”

“Mmm.” She looked at her feet and petted her pokeball, as if it were something alive that needed comforting.

“Is it because…” and he couldn’t believe he was saying this. “You would rather stay? With me?”

Machop jerkily nodded.

“…Why?” He didn’t understand. Was her previous life truly so terrible? Or maybe it was different for Pokémon. It wasn’t uncommon for Pokémon to couple themselves to promising trainers. Gligar and Magikarp had certainly been eager to join him. Still, Machop didn’t seem like the type who would like to pursue battling. What would prompt her to leave the only home she had ever known?

Machop leaned against him, pillowing her head against the crook of his arm.

The whole point of this exercise had been to give her a choice. To give her an opportunity that Station had not gotten. And she had made her decision. It was not the answer that Station had been expecting but, unfathomable as it was, it was her truth.

“I see. If that’s is truly what you want, then it would be an honour to have you with us.” He opened his hand expectantly. “Don’t worry, I won’t break it unless you change your mind.”

With some hesitancy, she retuned the ball to him. Station pulled it back before she could enter it again and she squeaked in betrayal. “Sorry, I just wanted to let you know that you can change your mind. This is a standing offer. If you ever want to be released you just need to to tell me, okay?”

“Chop,” she grumbled and vanished into the pokeball in a flash of light.

With a huff of amusement Station reattached her pokeball to his belt. He stood and shook off the snow clinging to his pants and coat.

The area around him had grown so foggy it was difficult to discern the world around him. Coupled with the snowfall covering his tracks, it was impossible to tell the way he had come from. The fog had set in so quickly and he hadn’t even noticed. It seemed… unnatural.

Slow clapping sounded from behind him and he spun to see Volo’s figure emerging from the haze, mist curling around him like drapery. His uncovered eye shone through the gloom, glacial blue.

“Oh, how sweet,” he drawled, rolling his eyes.

Station squinted at him. “You are not Volo.”

Not-Volo spluttered, mouth opening and closing rapidly. “How did you-?! No! I am Volo! What makes you say that?!”

“Volo would act more like…” Station smiled widely, leaned forward with a hand on his hip and waggled his pointer finger. “My, what a showing from my favourrrrite customer! Putting my pokeballs to good use I see! You weirdo, you!” He winked. “Have you remembered anything yet?”

Not-Volo’s lip curled. “V- I would not fucking say that.”

Station shrugged, letting his smile and the persona drop. “Maybe. Maybe not. His eyes are definitely grey though.”

Said blue-but-should-be-grey eyes widened as it’s hands (already lengthening into claws) flew to it’s face, as if it could feel the imperfections. It snarled and yanked at the illusionary bangs, tearing off the illusion like an orange peel, until frayed away into the ghostly fur of it’s real body.

“…Do I know you?” Something about it seemed familiar. He tilted his head. “Didn’t I give you berries that one time?”

It stilled from tearing at it’s mane,

[Station catches a Zoroark]

——

[Station becomes Lady Sneasler’s Warden]

[Station and Lian talk about how Lian is upset that Station was made a Warden before him]

[succubusvalentine]

Simon Riley with a user who's embarrassed of her sounds. CW : PiV, restraining, overstimulation.

Simon was an observer. So of course he noticed it. How when his hands travelled south and touched you in the ways that he knew drove you to the edge, you would gasp quietly and make the smallest sound in his ear.

While yes, that definitely sent blood rushing down to chub up his cock, he wished you would be louder.

It became a challenge to Simon. He craved to make you scream under his touch.

He started to push down on your lower stomach when his fingers or cock were in you. A small keening sound coming from you before you stopped it from getting louder.

Simon was quickly becoming frustrated. He had tried everything. Scouring online forums to find any tidbits of information he didn't already have stored away.

Then one night, he made you come on his cock. His calloused thumb rubbing your clit. And then, when he usually stops, he kept going.

A surprised moan came from you. Your eyes widening slightly as your hips squirmed.

And then your moaning got louder.

You couldn't stop. You were mortified at the mewls and whines coming from your lips. Covering your mouth when you nearly screamed in pleasure.

Something dangerous flashed in Simons eyes at your action. Sending a shiver down your spine.

"No" Simon growled, grabbing your hand and pinning it beside your head. Doing the same with the other before you could think to bring it over your mouth.

"Who knew all i' took was to make you come on my cock a few times for you to finally star' making sound, huh?" Simon growled, angling his hips slightly.

He then moved your wrists above your head and pinned them with one hand.

His other hand moved down and pushed on your lower stomach, making you squirm and cry out. Your neck and chest going bright red from embarrassment.

"Fucking trying for months t'get you to sing for me birdie" Simon grunted, his hips snapping into yours at such a pace, your brain went dumb.

"'s e-em-embarrassing!" You whined, trying to writhe your wrists free from Simon's strong grasp.

"How is it embarrassing when you sing so pretty for me, hm? So good for me, baby" Simon groaned against your neck. Biting down for good measure.

You scream as you came again, entire body buzzing and trembling. Before you went limp under Simon. Too weak to beg for a break.

Simon was nowhere near finished with you. He finally had gotten what he craved. Albeit at the sacrifice of abusing your cunt in the process.

⛧°. ⋆𓌹♰𓌺⋆. °⛧

[starlit-eudemonia]

ok… I just finish Cirrus’s good ending of Ch. 2 (I haven’t played the other sides of it to be messy). And I’m so fucking confused??? /pos.

[7hursday]

bestfriend!suguru who finds you sitting in the bathtub with your legs spread, hands that were frantically rubbing at your clit now frozen in place as you two blink at each other.

he was never supposed to even enter the bathroom — best friends have boundaries, after all — but hearing a strained scream of his name had him rushing to check if you were okay.

…only for him to realize a few moments later that it wasn’t a scream.

bestfriend!suguru who wordlessly pulls you out of the bathroom and tosses you onto the bed, ravaging you like a thirsty man that had been stranded in a desert.

your cunt was already sensitive from your previous actions, making you cry out and tangle his locks in between your fingers, but oh god — the way his tongue circled your clit before pushing inside your entrance, lapping up all of your wetness and tongue-fucking you without mercy — you weren’t sure whether to push him away or pull him impossibly closer.

at one point, his spit was almost entirely the reason why you were even wet. he was so persistent, making out with your pussy as if this was his last meal on earth. a clear, stream of liquid shoots out of your pussy when he inserts two fingers and curls them just right, hitting that spongy spot you couldn’t usually reach by yourself.

“oh my fucking god,” suguru pulls away, slick coating his lips and chin as he stares at the mess you’ve made. “look at that pretty pussy. so wet, all f’me,” a soft slap! has your body jolting, making you lift your head to look at him.

bestfriend!suguru who looked absolutely pussydrunk, eyes glazed over and still glued to the spot in between your legs as he fumbled with his belt. his cock was straining so hard against his pants you could’ve sworn they’d actually rip apart.

when he pushes his cock into your cunt, he has to bite down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood, to stop himself from just burying himself to the hilt and fucking you to the point of bruising your cervix. the warmth and wetness surrounding and squeezing around his shaft has him seeing stars, and he hasn’t even started moving yet.

when he finally picks up the pace, he ruts into you like a dog in heat, fingers digging into your waist as he chases after his high. he moans at the sinful squelch of your pussy with every thrust— and if he could eat you out and break you with his cock at the same time, he would.

bestfriend!suguru who says, “if I’d known you had a pussy this fuckin’ good, I would’ve made you mine ages ago.”

[fandomfuntimem]

Dp x dc: batshit crazy driver au.

Bruce hired a new personal driver for the Wayne's. He was a nice enough guy. His grades weren't great, but he was a great driver and very patient. Like, really patient. Like, he is so unbothered by traffic, stupid drivers, and villain attacks, its kinda scary. But all the background checks came back clean. Minus his mad scientists parents, of course.

Daniel (Danny) Fenton. He could relate to any of the Wayne kids and hold an intelligent conversation with Bruce. Bruce feels that he doesn't need to be all Brucie Wayne around the young man. He doesn't know about their nightly activities yet, though. They're not quite sure if he even needs to know.

The first sign there was something more to Danny happened when Tim was sitting in the passenger seat. Tim was struggling with a math problem. It was driving him nuts. It only took a quick glance for Daniel to solve it, though, "it's thirty-six"

"What?"

"The answer is Thirty-six. You forgot to carry the three."

"Huh..."

He was right, Tim made a simple mistake, sure. But that was advanced college level math. Danny was a straight c student and never went to college. It only took him a momentary glance to solve it. Tim, though suspicious, chalked it up to a simple case of gifted kid syndrome. He related to it and began to consult with Danny on some of his math problems. Danny was more than happy to help, for a price, of course.

Then, there was a villain attack. The villain's goons ran rampant through the city, terrorizing anyone unfortunate enough to be outside at the time. But not Danny, they'll tried, oooh they tried. But those goons swiftly found themselves zip tied, in the trunk of a car, and on their way to jail. All while Danny blasted some music by a small artist named 'Ember'.

Alright. He is in Gotham, and his mother was a black belt, so maybe he was just well trained. Its good to know how to deffend yourself.

Then, Damien was kidnapped. It was so fast they barely saw, but a white van sped by and grabbed Damien as he made his way tawords the car. Initially, Damien expected the chauffeur to panic and call the police. But when shouting and cursing were heard from the front seat, and the men in the back slipped the van door open to check behind them, it was revealed Danny had followed them and he had a gun.

What could only be described as an action movie chase scene ensued. Every corner they swerved, every shortcut they took, Danny was right behind them. Driving like a bat out of hell, he shouted and fired at the wheels of the van. Knocking one out, the van swerved and was forced to come to a stop.

A kidnapper grabbed Damien by the hair and held a gun to his head, but before the threat could even leave his mouth a bullet flew through his hand. He dropped Damien and fell to the ground screaming, clutching his hand.

The kidnapper in the van already took off running but was swiftly stopped by Redhood arriving just in time to see Danny helping Damien up and checking him over, profusely apologizing for "letting this happen."

When asked why he did all of it, his simply answered, "I don't think I would get paid if I let Mr. Wayne's kid die! I can't let a kid die in general!"

Bruce, of course, gave the young man a bonus and a few days off for the stunt. Accompanied wlth a few stern words about safety. What was truly remarkable was that there was not a single scratch on the car. Untouched, meaning he never hit anything during the whole ordeal. "I just learned what not to do from my dad!" He joked, but Bruce felt that, despite the clear joking tone, there was some truth to the statement.

The family is suspicious, very suspicious. The man they previously viewed as their simple and humble driver turned out to be a monster of a fighter, and they have no idea how or why.

----------------------‐------

A/N: Feel free to add onto this in any way you would like :3

[swytdoll]

♡.ྀི₊thinking about mean!overworked and underfucked nanami:3

it’s utterly cruel as he forces your fucked out face against the penthouse window. any other time, you'd be gushing over the breathtaking view of the city lights, but the way kento's fat tip gnaws at your cervix has your eyes rolling back in your skull.

a sinewy hand grips your throat, tightening to the point where you feel lightheaded. the other hand is firmly placed on your hip, anchoring your ass against his pelvis. you've been in this position for what feels like an eternity, pressed against the glass like an animal as he fucked you like a mutt in heat. the chill of the glass contrasts with the warmth radiating from him, each thrust causing the surface to shudder beneath you.

“such a slut, letting me use you like this—ha! bet it turns you on fucking your boss like this—god,” he snarls, voice thick with lust. the wet squelch of your slick pussy is audible in the room, only adding to your embarrassment. the shame has your eyes brimming with tears, the sting of them mixing with the ache between your legs.

he chuckles darkly. "that's right, sweetheart. i know how much of a fucking whore you are." he's relentless, driving his cock deep into your cunt as he uses your throat to keep you upright. “m’not a whore!” you try to argue, but it's incoherent due to the cock shoved in your cunt. he doesn't respond, but the grip on your hip tightens. his pace is brutal, each snap of his hips causing your ass to jiggle. your pussy flutters around his girth, sucking him in as he plows into you. the pressure building in your abdomen too much.

“don’t make me laugh.” he hisses, bending his knees slightly so that he can hit a new angle, the new position knocking a series of whines from your throat. you’re pretty sure he’s in your womb, molding your gummy walls around his length.

"always prancing around in those slutty skirts and shirts—i see the way you stare at me when you think i'm not looking. so needy. you wanted this from the beginning, didn't you?” he pauses, letting out a guttural moan.

“i knew all along. how could i not? you were practically throwing yourself at me. batting your fucking eyelashes, and now i've got you exactly where i want you. i bet it was all just a ploy to get my dick. i'm right, aren't i?"

even as he’s degrading you, you can't help but moan. kento’s hand moves to your ass, giving your cheek a sharp smack. the stinging sensation forces a cry from you, and you clench around his member, causing him to let out a string of curses.

“my point proven—ha! s’fuckin sad.”

the hand gripping your throat moves to the back of your head, pushing your face further against the cool glass.

"i'm not gonna last long," he groans, his hips beginning to falter. he's going harder, faster, and the way he splits you makes you scream. tears begin to stream down your cheeks as you come undone, the sensation of being full, so fucking full, causing you to go limp in his grasp. he doesn't stop, and the way he fucks you through your orgasm makes your vision go spotty.

he draws your hair into his hands, creating a makeshift ponytail for his fingers to weave into. then, he yanks hard, the sudden action forcing you to arch your back. “why do sluts always have the best pussy? no fair.” he sneers, he's fucking into you with such fervor that you're afraid the window might splinter.

“s-slow down, nanami-san, you're gonna b-break me," you stammer, voice barely above a whisper.

he doesn't.

the only thing you can do is take it. the way his head slams against your hilt has your body shaking, the pressure building up in your core once more. you can't hold on much longer, not with him fucking you like this.

“slow down? you wanted this! running your fuckin’ leg up my thigh at a work dinner, touching me under the table like a desperate bitch—you want this, don't you? i bet you would've let me fuck you there. i could've bent you over that table and pounded your little cunt till you were screaming my name. and now, look at you—fucking pathetic. such a pretty face, such a nice little pussy” he moans loudly, "wrecked. all ruined. and all because of me."

he pulls your hair once more, forcing a strangled sob from your throat. the sound makes him chuckle. kento uses you as a ragdoll, pulling your hair, grabbing your waist, manhandling you like some cheap sex toy. it's fucking disgusting. he spanks you when you go limp, pulling your hair whenever you go quiet. and all you can do is take it. the pain is so delicious that you're not even thinking straight. you just want to be good for him.

he's mean. but you've never been this wet in your entire life. your body is writhing, begging for another release, and when kento’s fingers find your swollen clit, you nearly fall apart. his fingers rub tight circles against the bundle of nerves, sending a surge of pleasure up your calves. his hips stutter, and he's moaning louder.

your knees buckle, another slap. “stay up i won’t tell you again.”

he's so fucking close. the tip of his cock is battering the entrance to your womb, and the way his balls are slapping against your cunt is making you sob. he nearly blows his load in you when he presses a hand below your belly button, feeling his cock through your stomach. he curses, grabbing your hand and pressing it to the small bump.

"can you feel me, sweetheart? can you feel how deep i am? can you feel the bulge?" you can't respond, too fucked out to process the words. he lets go of your hair, instead using both hands to pin your arms above your head. his face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you can feel his hot breath against your skin. “can’t even speak, sad.” he grunts, pressing sloppy wet kisses behind your ear.

you're his, all his. “mine, mine, mine.”

the way his teeth graze the skin of your neck has your eyes fluttering shut, a fresh set of tears rolling down your cheeks. you're a fucking mess, and kento nanami loves it. he can't help himself, not when your cunt is sucking him in like this. he's so close, so fucking close.

the pressure building in his abdomen becomes unbearable, and he lets out a strangled groan as his hips snap forward, his seed spilling into you. he doesn't slow down, not even as his cum overflows from your pussy, dribbling down your thighs.

"oh my god—oh my fucking god," he pants, his thrusts erratic. he's so deep inside of you, and the feeling of him painting your insides white has you on the verge of blacking out. he's filling you, stretching you, breeding you. it's too much.

his grip on your wrists going lax, you're completely boneless. the only thing keeping you from crumpling onto the floor is kento’s firm grip on your wrists. he lets go, and you fall to the ground. the only sounds that fill the air are the soft whimpers that escape your lips, and his heavy breathing.

he runs a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself. he looks down at you, and the sight has his dick twitching.

you're a mess, his cum seeping from your cunt, mixing with your own arousal and dribbling down your thigh. the tear streaks running down your cheeks only make the scene more obscene. you're absolutely wrecked, and he's the one who did it. the thought has him grinning, and he crouches down to your level.

"you took me so well, baby girl," he purrs, tipping your chin upwards. his tone is surprisingly gentle, and you can't help but flush. his voice is a bit hoarse, a result of the noises he'd been making earlier. he brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, admiring how fucked out you look. he can't wait to get his hands on you again.

[miihho]

Can you write type of guy headcanons for thanos (230) please? thx <33

THE KIND OF GUY

(squid game edition) nsfw

English

Korean

Thanos / Player 230

—THANOS IS THE KIND OF GUY who’d shamelessly flirt with you, his words dripping with confidence and charm. He’d slip in Spanish pet names like "señorita" so naturally, it was as if he were born to sweep you off your feet.

There was one day when he suddenly dropped to his knees, a smirk dancing on his lips as he grabbed your hand gently. "I might just start my own religion, because of how often I find myself on my knees for you." He said as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it, his gaze never leaving yours. You felt your face heat up, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks at the boldness of his actions.

He’d also call you every sweet name in the book—"baby," "angel," "princess," "beautiful"—each one rolling off his tongue with effortless confidence. And if that weren’t enough, he’d take it a step further, rapping his feelings for you in a way that was both cheesy and undeniably endearing.

—He’s the kind of guy who’d have a slow-burn romance without even realizing it. At first, it’s nothing more than casual interactions, small moments here and there. He doesn’t notice the shift—how his thoughts linger on you longer than they should, how he starts to care just a little bit more. It’s gradual, almost imperceptible, until one random moment hits him. Like it would suddenly click that he likes you. And now, he can’t stop thinking about it.

—He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t give up on you, no matter how many times you ignored him. Your cold shoulder, your silence—it didn’t faze him. If anything, it only fueled his determination. He’d chase after you relentlessly, his confidence unwavering, his charm impossible to ignore, until you had no choice but to face him.

He spotted you weaving through the crowd, your determined strides screaming leave me alone. Naturally, that only made his grin wider. He adjusted his jacket, his confidence as unshakable as ever, and started after you.

"Señorita!" he called out, you didn’t even glance back at him, but when he saw your pace quicken, it only fueled his determination. He caught up easily, walking alongside you like he belonged there.

"Ah, playing hard to get? I like that," he teased, tilting his head to glance at you with that infuriatingly smug smile. "But you know, you make it way too easy for me to chase you baby. You’re irresistible."

You rolled your eyes and turned sharply, hoping to lose him in the crowd. But the next corner you turned, there he was—leaning casually against a wall, arms crossed, like he’d been waiting there all along.

"Miss me already?" he teased with a smirk, his body blocking your path. "You can run, but you can't hide princess. Not from me."

You tried to sidestep him, but before you could get far, he placed a hand dramatically over his heart, feigning hurt. "Ouch, breaking my heart like that? Really?"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes in disbelief. "Just stop, I can’t stand you."

With a smirk that practically oozed confidence, he leaned in slightly, his voice teasing yet bold. "Then just sit on my face."

"W-what!?" You froze, eyes wide with shock, your heart pounding. "Just fuck off!" you snapped, brushing past him quickly, your face flushed in a mix of embarrassment and irritation.

He chuckled, watching you retreat with that same infuriating smirk. But you knew, as much as you tried to get away, he wouldn’t stop. He was persistent, and no matter how many times you brushed him off, he’d keep following, keep bothering you.

—He’s the kind of guy who wouldn’t tolerate some random guy flirting with you. If he saw it happening, he wouldn’t hesitate to step in. He’d interrupt the conversation, push the guy back with a forceful shove, and growl, "Back off man! Who the fuck do you think you are hitting on my girl!?" (Yeah even tho you're not his yet)

If the guy was making you laugh or smile, he’d simmer in silence, his jealousy simmering beneath the surface. Once the guy was alone, he’d track him down, corner him, and with a dangerous edge to his voice, he’d lean in, his eyes burning with fury.

"Stay the fuck away from Y/n. Got it?" He said, his fist landing a brutal punch to the guy’s stomach, leaving him crumpled on the floor. "She’s my girl," he’d add, his tone low and possessive. "My woman."

—He’s the kind of guy who can’t help but yell, "Ah, there’s my girl!" with a huge grin spreading across his face when you made it out alive. Without a second thought, he’d rush to you, scoop you up in a tight embrace, and hold you like he’d never let go. "I’m so happy you're alive, baby. God, you don’t know how much I missed you." His grip would tighten as if to never let you slip away again.

—He’s the kind of guy who isn’t intimidated by you. He’ll rush toward you, full of energy, relieved that you made it through when the lights went out. While everyone else stood frozen in fear, staring in shock, you were casually wiping blood off your hands, having taken down a whole group without breaking a sweat.

—He’s the kind of guy who can’t believe he’s dating you after you finally accepted him. Like, a guy like him? Sure, he’s Thanos and pretty damn cool, but damn, you’re way cooler than him. So, every now and then, he’ll just blurt out, “Damn, I’m dating her?” when he thinks about you, or “I can’t believe she’s mine.” and his friend will just stare at him, completely weirded out.

—He's the kind of guy who's wildly in love with you, the type to fight a wild animal just to impress you. He lives to make you laugh, even if it means pulling off the dumbest, most ridiculous stunts. His love is chaotic, loud, and endlessly entertaining, but that's what makes it so unforgettable.

One day he tried to bake you a cake from scratch, only to set off the smoke alarm—but he still proudly presented you with the lopsided, half-burnt result, claiming it was "made with love." Or he'd show up at your door with a bouquet made of random wildflowers (and weeds), proudly declaring it’s “nature’s finest” while grinning like a fool.

—He’s the kind of guy who would let you paint his nails in any color you choose or decorate them however you like, all because he loves you and wants you to have that little piece of him.

—Thanos is the kind of guy who always needs to be in physical contact with you when you're together—his hand on your thigh, his arm around your shoulders. He craves that connection, that constant reassurance of your presence. Public displays of affection? He couldn’t care less. If you want him to kiss you in front of everyone, consider it done. If you mention he can kiss you after a game, why would he wait for privacy when he can claim you right in front of his friends? For him, it’s not just about the kiss—it’s about showing the world that you’re his and making sure you feel adored, no matter where you are.

—He’s the kind of guy who’s utterly captivated by your thighs, completely addicted to the way they feel wrapped around him. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be, no place more intoxicating than being suffocated by your softness.

He doesn’t just admire them—he worships them. His lips leave a trail of love marks along your skin, his way of claiming every inch as his own. Between kisses, his voice comes out low and teasing, filled with desire. (He also loves eating you out while you're wrapping your thighs around his head and getting suffocated by it. )

—He’s the kind of guy who would cover you in hickeys, leaving them all over your neck and thighs, a clear sign that you’ve been claimed and are already his. With a smirk, he’d tell you he’s just marking his priority, as if every mark is a reminder of who you belong to.

—He’s the kind of guy who’d proudly show you off to his friends with a grin and say, “Yeah, this my girl right here.” And damn, he wouldn’t just say it—he’d feel like the luckiest guy alive to have you by his side.

—He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t just take you—he claims you. If he ever finds out you're with someone else, he'll make sure you remember exactly who you belong to.

Thanos' rough words dripped with condescension as he gripped your hips, pulling you onto his thick shaft in one brutal thrust. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to pound into your mercilessly. "You're fucking mine, this fucking tight pussy is mine," he snarled, his balls slapping against your ass with each savage stroke. "This fat cock is the only thing you need. That pathetic loser can't touch this, can he?" He reached down to rub you clit, his fingers pinching the sensitive bud as he continued to ravage you. "Hngg!...—pls s'too much! too much! Thanos m'sorry p-please I w-won't do it again."

"Stop?" He chuckled, "We both know you love this. Being used like a cheap whore, stuffed full of dick. Admit it, you'd rather choke on my cum than go back to that limp-dicked loser."

—Hes the kind of guy who loves messy blow jobs. The sight of your lips stretched obscenely around his throbbing cock, your eyes glazed over in blissful submission, he fucking loves it. Loves how you surrendered completely, letting him control every movement as he fucks your mouth.

"Fuck... Your throat was made for my dick, wasn't it? Such a perfect fit, like you were born to worship my cock." he moaned, tangling his fingers in your hair and using your mouth like a cheap fleshlight as he chased his pleasure. The wet sounds of sloppy oral sex filled the air, punctuated by your muffled whimpers and gurgles. (Gosh he fucking loves that) "Fuck yes... hngg—take it baby, take it all, you filthy little cumdump!" His hips snapped forward, burying his cock to the hilt in your gullet while thick ropes of cum spilled in your mouth, forcing you to gag and sputter around his girth. "Look at you, such a good girl, gagging on my dick like it's your purpose in life. You were meant to be a cumdump, weren't you? Fucking slut."

—He's the kind of guy who loses his shit when you squirt into his mouth, he just fucking loves it when you're flooding his mouth with your ambrosial release. Saying "Holy shit," "I love you so fucking much baby," "Mmmm, you're fucking addictive as hell, baby. Can't get enough of this sweet juices." as he greedily laps up every drop. Just the taste of your squirting orgasm would send him into a fucking frenzy.

—He's the kind of guy who takes you apart piece by piece every time he gets you alone, his usual cruel exterior dissolving into raw, unbridled need. He doesn't just touch you—he worships you, his mouth and hands working in perfect harmony to draw out every moan, every shiver, every scream he can pull from you.

"You’re so fucking beautiful when you cum for me," he'd say, his voice dripping with hunger as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. His lips never leave your skin, trailing kisses and bites down your thighs, across your stomach, up to your neck.

"Look at you, spread open and dripping for me like the filthy little slut you are," he taunted, dragging a finger through your slick folds. "I bet all those prissy boys never made you feel this good, did they? They probably couldn't handle a real woman like you." he whispers, his breath hot against your ear as your body writhes beneath him. Even when your legs shake and your cries turn into breathless pleas, he doesn’t stop. He keeps you teetering on the edge, drawing out orgasm after orgasm until you’re left trembling, completely undone, and utterly his.

[backinmyphase]

"A gift from our village for the king, the great Lord Sukuna!"

There was cheering behind you, firing up the hatred for these people who threw you out for the lion the second their life was threatened. The king was sitting there, chin on his hand as his eyes went over you. You knew he was making out your worth right now. Deciding if you were really good enough for a gift.

He was a strange looking man. Four arms, two different sides of a face, marks everywhere and you could see with just how he was sitting that he had a tall frame.

He was strange, but more like fascinating strange. However, that wouldn't make you hate him any less. After all he was the reason these people, you called your people once, gave you away that easily.

If only he didn't exist.

"You are staring."

His voice is deep but with a tint of mockery. Normally you would lower your head. If you were normal thinking, you wouldn't have risked your head for a snappy comment. No, you would have just kept your mouth shut.

"You are too."

There were many gasps. The strange monk with white hair next to him frowned. But the Lord didn't even raise an eyebrow.

Instead he stood up and you saw you were correct with your assumption, he was towering above everyone here. He slowly made his steps towards you. Now you were realizing how dangerous your action was. Just the way his presence made you want to hide was enough prove that he was danger. He stopped before you, looking down on you.

His hand found it's way to your chin lifting it, so you kept looking at him. You knew you shouldn't move. One snap with his finger and you would be... Oh well.

"I am." he grinned, while meeting your eyes. His were red. So unbelievable red, only blood could be.

"I hope I am allowed."

The silence spoke loud. You knew he was mocking you. He was making out right now if he should kill you or not, you were sure. There was just no way out of it, the decision was purely relying on his mood.

"Of course the king is allowed!" you heard screams from the people behind you.

"Lord Sukuna can do whatever he wants, no commoner can speak with him that way!"

There was loud mumbling of agreement behind you, which made your body stiffen. They were trying to get on his good side, there was no doubt.

"Offering such a pretty flower, just because they heard I was coming. Assuming I would destroy this place." his fingers were slowly caressing your chin. "You must be angry they were so willing to give you to me, are you not?"

You blinked at him, seeing his grin growing.

"Want me to kill them?"

The mumbling immediately died down, the tension now palpable in the air. Sukuna was still staring, watching your every move, even just the glancing of your eyes. You were shaking. But not just out of fear.

"I don't need them to die." You saw how Sukuna raised an eyebrow while there was small sighing behind you, just until you spoke again. "But...

If you did want to kill them, I wouldn't be mad enough to stop you."

The only thing you heard was your own breathing. The people behind you were quiet like they were not even there. You didn't look at them no, you didn't dare to.

Not when the king was looking into your eyes.

Then he let go off your chin and started laughing. Just laughing for an unbearable long time. Time, in which you wondered if you were dead now.

But he just shook his head while his laughter died down.

"Uraume, bring her to the estate." The white haired monk was already by your side. They were looking at him with a curious glance.

"And you my lord?"

"I have a Village to kill."

Part 2

[slightly-knot-insane]

Breaking a Promise

You love your monster boyfriends cock. It's huge, long, ribbed, a wonderful alien shape that you can't even describe. Beautiful colors are splashed across it, along the veins, glans, his balls, and surrounding the lovely hole that shoots that delicious load all over and inside you. You love to lick that little hole, pushing your tongue inside, tasting the pre-cum while listening to the grunts of your handsome boyfriend. His muscles spasm, he barely keeps himself under control. You forbade him to touch you this time. This time, he's your monster toy.

You glide your tongue slowly along his shaft, kissing every curve and stripe, every little marking. He can only squirm under your touch because he promised - he promised! - not to place a finger on you.

Smiling deviously, you continue your torture, soaking his monster phallus with your saliva. You suck his balls and foreskin, pulling them with your teeth. He hisses, his hands curled into fists. "Fuck... you are evil..."

"Evil?" You lift yourself on your knees and crawl closer to his dick. You kneel and start grinding yourself up and down along his soft creases, stimulating your swollen clit. "I am now."

"Fuck..." His head falls backward, exasperated sigh escaping his lips. He swallows hard while he grunts, controlling his arms, scratching the bedsheets like a nervous cat. "Please... Let me, just a little bit..."

"No", you snap, too focused on your pleasure, holding his dick against yourself and rocking your hips. Your moans become louder and you can feel your core aching. You push yourself forward, forcing his cock on his stomach so that you can ride it with more force. "Ah... ah... yes, I'm close."

He puts his hands behind his head, biting his bicep, trying not to look at you. But he can feel and hear every part of you. He can feel your wet cunt, the moist sounds, your pants and whimpers, your folds sliding along his cock.

"I'm gonna—" Your orgasm hard, screaming from delight, still humping his cock, making your clit pulsate. It is so intense, you shake and whimper like a pathetic plaything.

"Fuck this!" He grabs your hips and lifts you up like a doll. You aren't aware of his actions until you feel his full length inside your still pulsating pussy. "Ahhh yes!", you scream.

His pounding cock enhances your ongoing orgasm and just pushes the next wave forward. Hearing him grunt and groan while slamming your pussy against his groin speeds things up. You climax again, him balls deep inside you, chasing his own release.

"Oh fuck, baby, you feel so good... Your pussy loves my cock... It throbs around my cock... Ah..."

He presses you against his chest so that his hips can buck with full force. With a deep guttural growl, he buries his cock deep inside you and cums. He fills you up so much, you feel the pressure inside your womb as it swells.

After catching his breath, he says, in a most fake apologetic voice: "I'm sorry I broke my promise."

With half-lidded eyes, you kiss his chest. "You are not, you whore. At least you break your promises in a really fantastic way."

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒���𝐒. toji cannot wait to break in his virgin girlfriend—though until then, he’ll settle for simply teasing you until you’re a trembling mess.

tags. toji fushiguro x virgin!female reader. smut, pwp. age gap (reader early 20’s, toji early 30’s). corruption kink. dry humping? cum play. size difference. reader gets called ‘princess, doll’ queued

toji loves to tease you—you know that very well. he thrives off your reactions to his dirty words, the subtle yet naughty touches that he sneaks in during conversations, the seductive glint in his half lidded eyes whenever you’re around . . he knows what he’s doing.

even more so when you’re in his bed at night. you usually cuddle, sometimes make out and grind against each other, but nothing too lewd yet. toji doesn’t mind waiting to get a taste of you. he knows it will be worth the wait at the end.

but oh—is it difficult. so, so difficult. especially when you allow him access to more parts of your body.

“shit, princess,” he pants, hissing a bit when the mushroom tip of his cock bumps against your clothed clit, “y’re gettin’ so wet, huh? just by looking at my cock ‘n feeling it rub against your pussy.”

your cotton panties surely are damp with arousal; from both toji and you. his pre-cum mixes with your juices, ruining your favorite pair of panties. the wet spot forming near your slit only gets darker and darker the more you allow toji to rub his dick back and forth over your cunt.

“mngh—fuck. need you,” you whine, unable to fight the urge to buck your hips against his fat cock. your eyes dart up to your boyfriend to express your neediness, but he grabs your nape and guides your gaze back to his red tip pushing against your sloppy underwear.

toji lets out a dry chuckle. “i know y’ do. y’r pussy told me that long time ago,” he comments while he watches your adorable reactions to him pushing and pulling his cock from your clothed pussy. he’s only interested in you—the way your eyes glisten with tears and pleasure.

if it isn’t for his self control, he would have fucked you by now. but he’ll patiently wait until the perfect timing to push through that invisible wall, to pop your cherry while he looks you in the eyes, taking that innocence from you that he oh-so loves.

“want my cock, doll?” toji asks with a wicked grin. his large hands runs over your chest to your tummy. he guides his shaft over to your belly, measuring how much of your insides it would fill. “mm, yeah—would mess you up pretty bad,” he hums as the tip reaches your belly button. even further than that.

the thought excites the older man. to be your first, the first man who’ll mould your pussy to only fit his cock. no one else will have the honor of stripping you from your virginity.

“want it. want it all the way inside me,” you reply back, voice shaking with excitement. you’re going to cum soon from him simply grinding against your clothed cunt. your poor clit is continuously being circled and bumped against by his tip and it’s driving you crazy.

toji swallows thickly. “don’t ya tempt me like that,” he warns you in a dark tone. he runs a rough finger over your wet panties, keeping your legs spread wide with his knees. he easily finds your little hole as the cotton material sticks to your pussy, showing the outlines of your lips.

“might just push in here. .” toji murmurs as he positions the leaking head of his dick against your covered entrance, “. . and fill you up while hearing you scream my name. sounds good, ay?”

you gasp and feel your cunt clench around nothing. his hips move back and forth, shallow thrusts against the barrier that is your panties, mimicking the real thing. “y-yeah—oh, ‘m g’nna cum,” your heart rate picks up as your back arches off the mattress.

toji raises an eyebrow, secretly finding it endearing how that is the action that pushes you over the edge. you’re so adorable; simply thinking of him actually fucking you senseless and the feeling of his tip seeking your pussy is enough.

“aww, she’s gonna cum,” the dark-haired man snickers after mocking you. toji gauges your reactions and grins when he sees your head rolling back against the pillow.

“do y’ wanna cum together? we can,” he smirks as he leans down to intertwine your hands—playing the role of the gentle boyfriend who’s having sex with his girlfriend for the first time. he’s trying to give you the full experience while not actually giving it to you yet.

“y-yes, wanna cum together,” you nod mindlessly, your mouth feeling dry. you squeeze your eyes shut while also holding tightly onto toji’s hand. your pussy tightens up around air while your hips buck up to meet toji’s thrusts against your covered, wet hole.

“c-close—ngh, toji!” your eyes widen once his tip pressing snugly between your pussy lips. for a second it felt like his cock had successfully breached through your panties. that short-lived moment is enough to push you over the edge and cum on spot.

toji witnesses the bliss in your facial expression and he groans. “fuckkk—take it. g’nna cum all over ya princess,” he presses his hips firmly against yours, his full length resting right between your wet folds, ropes of cum spurting out of his aching tip.

you feel the sticky liquid stain your belly, running down to the waistband of your panties and even staining the front part. your choked up moans are music to your boyfriend’s ears while he calms down from his own orgasm.

his big biceps tremble as he holds himself up above you, grinning from ear to ear. “keheh, made a mess out of you,” toji’s voice is filled with pride. he lets you cling onto him for as long as you need to.

his eyes dart down to the sticky mess on your tummy and panties. the older man leans back on his knees to admire the view. he really couldn’t wait to actually slide inside of your tight cunt—but this will suffice for now. the sight of his cute girlfriend trembling and whimpering beneath him makes up for everything.

his fingers hook around the waistband of your panties. “can i look, doll?” toji asks in a gruff voice, desparate to see your glistening cunt. you weakly nod and he doesn’t waste any more time.

the sight greeting him when he pulls your underwear down is nearly enough to make him cum again. your juices are everywhere, multiple strings of wetness connecting your pussy to your panties. they snap one after the other as your panties are slowly removed.

“oh, y’re such a messy girl,” toji sighs, leaning down to kiss your tummy, licking up some of his own cum. you shiver and your hands dart out to hold onto his black hair. he chuckles at the gesture, humming in acknowledgement.

his eyes darken when he catches a glimpse of your sopping pussy again. he’s so close to it — so extremely close. his gaze darts over to a drop of his cum that threatens to slide down and over your clit. the heat and smell of your cunt is driving that man to the brink of insanity.

toji lolls his tongue out, eyes glistening with desire while he pushes your legs up and over his shoulders, big hands holding onto your hips. drool gathers in the corners of his mouth as his face hovers right between your legs;

“mind if i have a taste of you, princess? jus’ a quick one, i promise.”

[mywritersmind]

DO NOT DISTURB - LN4

summary : In which an early morning surprise comes in the form of Max Verstappen staring at his little sister in his rivals jacket.

listen up : swearing! maxverstappenssister!reader

words : 982

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The constant banging on the door woke me up with a groan. I didn’t think before slipping out of bed, rubbing my eyes and slumping my way to the door to see dare bother me so early. I put the do not disturb on last night!

I twisted the handle, running a hand through my hair and peak my head out. Now, you know that feeling when your stomach drops on a rollarcoater? When you’re driving a little too fast and slam your foot on the break because you are not going to make that light? That feeling that you get when you get caught.

I immediately regret it.

I immediately regret it because my brother is staring at me, his mouth open and his eyes wide. I try to slam the door shut because in my groggy haze, I forgot that i’m not in my room.

The feeling of Lando’s jacket on me suddenly takes over as I scream and push my back against the door. Max fights back instantly, not letting it close as I struggle to hold him off.

“What the fuck!?” He bangs on the door, “Y/n!?”

My eyes go to the bed where a lazy figure sits up, clearly confused until Max pushes the door open, my heels dragging on the floor in a last ditch attempt to stop him.

“Shit.” Is all Lando says, practically falling out of bed and standing up. He’s in pajama pants only and normally I would grin stupidly at his naked chest but i’m pretty sure i’m about to be murdered.

“Yeah, Shit!” Max slams the door behind him as I back away quickly, “Someone better start talking!”

See, I didn’t mean to start hooking up with my brother's rival/friend! But Lando Norris had his eyes set on me and even though at the time I thought it was just for bragging rights or a one night stand, he kept coming back.

“Um…” Lando’s voice is still scratchy from sleep as he looks at me, panicked.

“We’re dating!” I say quickly as Lando’s eyes get wide and he takes a step back. Max steps forward, something new that i’ve never seen on his face. He seems to try to find words, opening and closing his mouth a hundred times with hand gestures to match.

He stops, slapping his hand against his mouth, “I told you to stay away you little-” He screams at Lando and I suddenly wonder if he’s woken up the whole floor.

“I tried but your sisters hot, mate…” This gets Lando slammed up against the wall with a bloody grin on his face.

“Lando!” I scream, not because I'm scared for him, but because he’s being a little shit about it.

He’s wanted to tell Max for months and at times, I did too! Most of our friends our suspicious or completely know but Max is my brother. And a very protective one at that.

Hence, my boyfriend slammed against a wall.

“I will fucking destroy you, Norris.”

“Go ahead, Max. But when you do I want you to imagine me coming home to a Verstappen who really likes and pittys me.” Fucking hell he’s a complete cunt and I have to pretend it’s not hot as hell.

“Will you two stop!?” Is all I say when I see Max genuinely raise a fist! He backs away from Lando and starts pacing. I look at my curly haired who has a cheeky grin on his face. “Shut it.” I mumble and come closer to my brother.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” He looks at me and it’s the first time I realize he might be genuinely hurt.

“I knew you’d react like this.” I cross my arms, getting embarrassed that my big brother is disappointed in me.

“No, I reacted like this because I came to my friend's hotel room only to find my baby sister in his clothes!” Okay so maybe I should have told him earlier…

“It’s my fault, I didn’t want to tell.” Lando cuts in.

“No, don’t.” I groan, hating taking responsibility for my own actions, “Lando wanted to tell you. He did, actually! You both may have been piss drunk but still, he really wanted to.”

“Like me more now?” I can hear the smile in Lando’s voice as my brother blinks.

“No.”

“Anyway!” I eye Lando, “We’re dating. And I know I should have told you and you’re probably pissed-”

“Definitely pissed!” Max cuts in.

“But, I really like him.” I'm actually in love with him but I think that would make Max have a heart attack.

“You.” Max points to Lando who’s eyes widen, “You ever hurt her, Please remember that we have the same job, with the same danger, except i’ve been doing this a lot longer than you. I can play anything off as a track accident.”

Lando’s face drops as he looks to me, “Did he just threaten to kill me?” I smile and nod, “You Verstappens…”

“You threaten him before?”

I nod, “All the time.”

“Good.” Max lets out a dry laugh, walking towards the door. “I’m still pissed so don’t get any ideas about PDA around me, ever!” He pointedly says to Lando. “Ugh ew, I hate you both.”

“Love you too, Maxie.” I say with a smile and a sigh of relief.

“Hey, Max.” Lando walks up behind me and I'm already worried. My brother turns, his hand on the door, “While we’re here… we have another surprise.” Lando slips his hands over his jacket, holding my stomach. I slam my foot on his as he laughs and my brother looks at us with murder in his eyes.

I can’t help but laugh, leaning back into Lando as he holds me tighter. “Go back to your room, he’s a dick, I know!”

Then, Max does something I completely didn’t expect. He smiles.