#they little curls stuck to the side of his head

[accidentcache]

for the one anon who threatened a rat with a rock here's my dbhxs i promised <3

the first thing you feel once stirring in the morning is touya shifting underneath you. he moves, clearly not trying to wake you up-- gingerly lifting your arm from his waist before shifting his weight to the edge of the bed.

keigo has a secure grip around your waist, his arms are loose but you know it will be a fight to get out of his hold. he's warm, his breath is hot where his mouth rests against your shoulder blade and the patchy hair on his chin tickles enough to stir you further from sleep.

your eyes flutter open more just in time to see touya lift himself from the bed. his hair is messy, white locks sticking up in random directions and there are creases in his skin from where he lied on the bed in his heavy sleep. he sleeps in just his boxer briefs due to how much he sweats in his sleep and his skin is slightly damp.

you know where he's going. it's the same as every morning since he's gotten home.

the bedsheets have long forgotten the little red fuzzies that used to litter the fabric. instead of scorch marks, the sheets now get soaked in sweat from body heat. keigo still sleeps with his back to the edge of the bed to accommodate for wings he doesn't have anymore, touya fiddles with scarred skin that is still taking weeks to heal.

the three of you knew it was going to be a long recovery time.

you eventually manage to wrangle yourself out of keigo's hold. he continues to snore surprisingly, face shoved into the pillow with the blankets tucked around his ribs. he's become such a heavier sleeper since the war and you're not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing.

padding out to the living room, the slight chill from the morning alerts you to the cracked porch door to your left. you smell burning tobacco.

touya's morning cigarette.

even though you're dressed in only underwear and a random shirt of theirs, you decide to join touya on the back porch. he's smarter-- he put on sweats and a thin t-shirt, but the sun is starting to rise and soon it'll be warm and nice enough to sit out and enjoy the weather on keigo's day off.

touya holds a turkish royal between his index and middle finger. the lighter-- a silly design of a bao bun on a skateboard is stuck on it-- sits on the wooden railing. a small smile curls at the corner of your mouth. you had gifted him that lighter a while back ago, before the war. he had rolled his eyes at you at the time and told you the design was stupid and childish.

his eyebrow lifts at the sight of you, but he opens up his side and beckons you forward. "what're you doin' up, sweetheart?" he murmurs, his voice rasps as smoke funnels from his nose.

you curl into his side and slide the cigarette from his fingers without much fight from him. his hand slides from your arm to wrap around your waist and pulls you closer into his side. either he's feeling snuggly or he's being sweet and keeping you warm in the early morning chill. he smokes outside-- keigo doesn't like when the two of you smoke inside.

you take a drag before you respond to him. "heard you leave the bed earlier," you mumble back in response. touya grunts and takes the cigarette back from you, tapping the ash over the railing. his body is warm, he smells like freshly lit tobacco and that hard to describe scent of sleep.

the two of you don't speak much more, just continue to share puffs of the cigarette as you watch the sun continue to rise. "blondie keeping the bed warm?" he hums as his chin rests on top of your head. you nod and a chuckle leaves his mouth. "probably only keeping his side warm, more like it."

a scoff is heard from the direction of the doorway behind the two of you, causing both of you to jump. your head swivels to find said blonde in the doorway, hair dishelved and a disgruntled expression slapped onto his face. he's squinting at the both of you, an adorable scowl on his lips and from the distance you're at you can see the little goosebumps appearing on his exposed skin.

"can you two hurry the hell up?" his tone is demanding but the words are phrased like a toddler whining. you half expected him to stomp his foot like one the longer you two stare at him.

touya flicks the butt of the cigarette into the designated ashtray he keeps out on the porch with a laugh that's nothing short of mocking. "someone's clingy."

"piss off," keigo snips back, but there's barely any heat in his tone. he offers one more glare before he turns from the doorway and makes his way back into the house. you know it's your cue to follow. keigo likes to cuddle in the morning-- he's not the same person unless he gets his skin to skin.

touya releases his arm from your waist, patting your hip affectionately. "go on," he reassures you, flicking out another cigarette for himself. the lighter clicks once, twice and then a third time before he lights up his second cigarette of the morning. "i'll meet you both in there when i'm done."

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

[jynxpsiche]

A Dae-ho x reader where the reader is kind of a sweetheart but is in team thanos. With dae-ho and thanos/Nam gyu having beef with one another because of it lolol if you get what i mean;;

MMMH MMH MMH THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!! ready to create some havoc!! Thank you for requesting! Hope you like the fic!! Likes and reblogs are appreciated!! <3 stay safe and hydrated!!

pretty lady

kang dae-ho x fem!reader | slight f!reader x thanos/nam-gyu

🎐. summary: you were a sight for sore eyes. An angel into a corrupted place like that. Of course you were going to be the attention of most the men there. Especially of two particular boys.

🎐. warnings: slight glinda core, blonde female reader because I said so, canon squid game gore, violence, swearings, jealous and protective dae-ho, not proofread. English is not my first language!

Likes and reposts are appreciated!!

Among all these people you were literally an angel. Your blonde gentle curls bounced with every step you took when you first walked down the aisle to submit your vote.

You felt all the eyes on you but you tried to brush them off and only concentrate on your imminent future. Your expression soft but serious.

Determined you pressed down the X button and with a small grin on your face you wore the corresponding patch on your jacket before joining the others on that side of the room.

You fixed the little pink bow that tied half your hair up and you failed to notice a set of blown wide eyes staring at your petite form from the other side.

Scrutinizing and observing you with deep interest. A smirk popped up on his lips. What an intriguing little creature you were.

Such a cute and delicate flower.

And oh how much he craved you.

What was doing a little doe like you in a place like this? Full of hunters and starving men. Not a single positive thought behind those prying eyes.

Especially his.

Unfortunately for you and the others on your side, the majority had decided to vote to continue playing games and so you were stuck in that place, fighting for your life, for another day.

The crowd had now dispersed, but two factions had now formed, creating great tension in the room.

No one could have been trusted there. And you knew that.

And while you were sitting on your bed bunk, thinking about possible moves or other ways to survive, player 388 observed you from his spot on the stairs, not caring about the conversation his teammates were having.

His eyes slowly admired how the light made your golden locks shine, how small your figure was, your delicate hands and fingers playing nervously, and finally your dove-eyed eyes focused in front of you.

You were on alert.

But even if behind your docile appearance you hid a strong spirit, he felt a sudden feeling bubble up in his chest. An incessant need.

Despite not knowing you, Dae-ho wanted to assure your safety and to keep you away from any type of dangers. Especially the ones in that same dorm.

However, his sudden hobby had been interrupted when player 230 approached you with his 'cool' attitude. He knew what men like him wanted from pretty girls like you. And he surely couldn't tolerate that.

"Hey Señorita, what're you doing here all alone?" his cheerful and flirty voice woke you up from your focused planning and slowly you brought your big eyes to him, noticing the dude with the purple sparky hair. "Why? Is there a problem with it?" you questioned lightly, your voice coming out in a soft tone.

You weren't trying to flirt back or something, but you deeply disliked when people didn't like you. You constantly felt the need to be loved and adored by everybody.

The guy shook his head, chuckling amusingly and then leaned closer to you, “just wondering what a pretty doll like you was doing in a place like this” he took one of your curls and started twirling it on his finger.

You stared at his eyes, locked with yours, and immediately picked up his blown pupils boring into yours. And you understood clearly that something was wrong with that man.

But you had no strength to pull him away.

“Doll…” the guy started, now a wicked grin on his lips, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your plump lips, “I’ll be able to protect you, but—“ he stopped his words for a moment and his smile widened “it will come with a price”.

Patiently you flashed him a tight closed smile and with a swift of your hand you managed to free your locks from his grasp, pretending to fix your hair.

Dae-ho still observed from afar, although now standing from his spot and slowly ascending from the stairs with the intention to stroll near your bed bunk and intervene in case things got a little too heated. And not in a good way.

He absentmindedly smirked at your calm attempt to escape from the guy’s grip and silently cheered in his mind at your successful attempt.

Now he was only a few meters away from you, this time able to hear the interaction.

You both didn’t notice him. What a relief.

His heart beating hard and anxiously in his chest, but he kept a focused look on his face. He was ready to jump in if that drugged guy would have tried something funny.

Then he heard your soft voice, “that’s so kind. But you know what would be even kinder?” You batted your long lashes at the guy in front you, who was hanging from every word that left your plump and rosy lips.

You slightly turned your head to the side, eyeing a young small guy, probably your age, who was sitting all alone. He looked kinda pathetic.

If this strange man wanted you to be on his side so bad, then he would have done everything you suggested him. And you were also going to help that poor scared guy. How good of you.

“See that guy over there? The one all alone and scared? It seems so unfair we are all in teams, and not him, geez” you falsely let out a sad sigh, still gazing at the other player.

The purple-haired guy briefly looked where you were pointing at and then turned to you again. Wide and crazy eyes staring at you for a second time.

You sent him another tight smile, this time the corner of your lip twitched a little due to your nervousness.

The ex-marine kept his gaze locked on you, noticing how slowly you were starting to falter. Doubt and fear was gradually creeping under your skin. This time you weren’t sure you were going to get out of this situation all by yourself and thanks to your charm.

And Dae-ho understood that somehow. You were crumbling, but he was ready to help you out.

“I wish someone would be my hero—” just to make your statement look more truthful, you placed your slim fingers on his bicep, gripping at it slightly. From him, you received an enthusiastic look and an amused chuckle. “—if that someone would to go team up with him…”

Now your lips were pushed forward into a pout and that sight alone clicked something in the drugged guy.

A low hum came from him, his face even closer to yours, your foreheads only a few centimeters away from actually touching. He now really was staring into your wide doe orbs.

“If I do that…would you consider joining my team Señorita?” slowly you nodded then recomposed yourself “we’ll see” and with that the guy was out of your sight, already jogging to other side of the room to talk with that lonely player.

You relaxed your posture, which had became stiff from the moment he came near you, but you just didn’t realize till now.

Then a gentle tap on your shoulder.

You shrieked loudly but cutely (in Dae-ho’s opinion) and jumped at the contact, scared that another creep was going to pester you and make you uncomfortable.

However, when you turned around you were met with an affable face.

It was another guy, also young, but he didn’t give the same vibes as the previous one…no, this one made you feel secure and calm. Not troubled at all.

You studied the young guy with a curious stare, your orbs roaming all around his figure because too intrigued by his appearance.

He wasn’t strange, neither looked like one. But in a bizarre place like that you were expecting the most untrustworthy people playing deadly games just to feel the breeze of victory and satisfaction.

The hand he used to tap you on the shoulder was still frozen mid-air, a widen look on his face and a faint and rosy blush on his apples’ cheeks. He surely was speechless.

You cutely tilted your head, looking up at him with large eyes, “can I help you?” His gaze fixated on your lovely and round lips, his brain not comprehending any word coming from you.

Dae-ho gulped down the lump in his throat and simply refocused his attention on your face, now staring at you in the eyes like an imbecile.

Maybe that was exactly what you were thinking: what this idiot wanted from you? how you were going to get rid of him without hurting his feelings?

He was already tasting the flavor of rejection.

Then he felt your baby pink nails graze at his hand still hanging in the air and instinctively he withdrew his hand with a quick jerk, as if the contact had burned him. But in reality he was only caught off guard, not ready for your touch. He would have expected anything but the brush with your soft, pale skin.

A light gasp came from you, surprised by such reaction. It never happened to you before.

How peculiar.

Your voice reached his ears again, “are you okay?” The former marine couldn’t make a fool of himself for the second time in your presence, he had to answer and quickly. “Yes! I just…came here to check up on you! Yeah, yeah…after the conversation with that dude, Thanos” he tried to sound confident, but he himself noticed how his own voice wavered slightly or abruptly became high due to nervousness.

The quizzical expression on your face made him realize that you didn’t know who the player was (probably you didn’t pay attention to the number on his jacket) so he chuckled softly and caught his breath, ready to clear up any doubts.

But before he could do that he immediately caught how your eyes suddenly lit up, a wide smile bloomed on your face and delicately you started bouncing on your bed bunk in excitement.

“Oh i got it!” You bounced a little more and unconsciously landed closer to him, taking both his large hands in your small ones.

Dae-ho immediately took notice of the huge size difference and also tried to drink in your gentle touch.

“You mean the odd guy with the purple hair right?” Your expression was hopeful and impatient, waiting for him to answer your question and ease your doubt. He simply nodded, with no force to speak after a scene like this, his mouth dry like the desert.

When you tilted your head a bit your hair prettily shifted in the same direction, shining more brightly in the light of the room.

Now a thinking expression printed on your features.

“He made me uncomfortable, sure, but I think that I handled the situation pretty well!” You grinned up at him “after all i love helping others and that guy all alone surely needed some!”

“Did you came here also for something else?”

Did he? He wasn’t sure. He just wanted you safe in a degenerate place like that and mostly from degenerate people that took part in it.

He wasn’t one of them. He knew.

And neither were his teammates.

So he for sure knew that you would have been safe in his team if you decided to join him.

“Actually…” but he was unsure. Maybe you would have considered him on the same level as player 230. But it doesn’t hurt to try.

“Actually…I was hoping that you could join my team?”

Your already large eyes seemed to comically widen even more, making you appear cuter than you already were.

His heart leaped.

And when you were ready to give him an answer Thanos approached your petite figure again, but now he wasn’t alone.

Skipping happily behind him was a guy with long hair, a mischievous grin on his thin lips.

The former marine recognized him as player 214, Nam-gyu.

The rapper’s voice boomed through the room, “Doll! I’m back! Did you miss me?” An unsettling feeling was showed through your facial features, but you didn’t give away too much discomfort, immediately wearing the fake thin smile; kind and polite but cold as ice.

Dae-ho only admired how versatile you were. You amazed him every second that went by.

“You again! Didn’t you go recruit that poor guy on your team?” You questioned politely, slowly hoisting from your kneeled position and standing right beside Dae-ho.

Even in a mundane action you displayed such gracefulness that pulled every string of his heart.

But he noticed quickly that he wasn’t the only one.

In a flash Thanos wrapped his arm around your waist and quickly pushed you in another direction, probably where his bed bunk was situated. “We are going to have so much fun together doll! And we’ll be able to win so much money!” He beamed enthusiastically, his arm bringing you closer to his tall and slim figure.

Nam-gyu swiftly appeared on your other side, the mischievous grin still on his face but now his eyes were totally focused on your face.

An unsettling feeling bubbled in your stomach. Goosebumps on your arms due to that sickening gaze. A shaky sigh from your nose.

“Yeah…just stick with us…and you’ll have nothing to worry about” he said, engulfing your shoulders with his arm.

Now you were trapped between the two, unwillingly following them.

Slightly you managed to turn your head behind, locking your eyes with Dae-ho.

You were silently asking for help because in that moment he was the only one you truly trusted and the only one to save you from that situation.

But he hadn’t been quick enough because when he opened his mouth to interfere, you were already gone.

[...]

Panic set through your bones when the pink circle soldiers locked your legs together with the team you had been forced to join.

The second game had been announced: six-legged pentathlon.

Five minigames to play in a short amount of time; if the team ran out of time they would have been eliminated. And you all knew what that meant.

With a shaky breath you scanned the room briefly, before setting your tremulant eyes on player 388, who was already looking at you, a small smile on his lips.

He was trying to put you at ease with a simple glance, his fist raised in the air as a symbol of strenght and courage. He perceived that you could do it and that you were tough enough to succeed.

Still with your gazes interlocked he mimicked a deep breath and reluctantly you echoed him. That should have calmed you down a bit.

Your doe eyes flashed him a determined look and then you turned forward, ready to face the challenge.

Subtly, he side-eyed his teammates, hoping that they didn’t witness the secret and caring exchange you two had.

Dae-ho kept his gaze fixated on you the whole time, never tearing it away from your small figure as you walked ahead with the rest of your team.

Only once his eyes left your figure and that was when he sent a disgusted look at Thanos, who of course appeared too relaxed and out of his mind during the race.

A low growl reverberated in his chest when he saw how the purple-haired guy squished your face and made you look at his face, telling you to not fuck up.

How dare he speak to you like that? You, who didn’t deserve such treatment.

If he wasn’t in a place like this, he would have intervened in the blink of an eye.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, and Jun-hee beside him stared up at form, a quizzical expression on her face.

Slowly and cautiously she followed his line of sight and despite her short height and her condition she immediately caught up what was happening: call it female perception.

Unfortunately she was nobody to him to share a piece of her thoughts, but maybe, in a subtle way, she could do it. Smooth and clean without raising any suspicious.

"Ehm...388?" she didn't know his name and of course they were only acquaintances, so it was only a matter of rispect and politeness. The mentioned guy turned his head towards her, his brows raised slightly in concern, "Are you okay? You don't feel good?" she kindly smiled at his gentleness and interest in her health, but she simply waved his worries away, her hand ghosting on his bicep.

"Perhaps are you okay? I see you're kinda...distressed?" Dae-ho gaped at her with an unexpected suddenness, certainly not expecting it t be so noticeable. Now it was his time to get rid of her worriment, "I'm fine, I'm fine...nothing to worry about!" but his tone didn't reassure her at all and her suspicious had been confirmed when his eyes flashed for a second towards the playing team.

"Is there anybody you care about?" she lowly whispered not wanting to draw any attention to them, even if almost everybody was too engaged on the game ahead. Dae-ho's head snapped in her direction, now his expression displaying half surprise and half concern.

If Jun-hee had managed to catch up so quickly about her behaviour, soon or later the other players too would have understood that and not only him, but you too would have been in danger.

And he wouldn't be able to endure it.

He was trying to save you, not to endanger you.

"W-what?" "In that team-- she said pointing forward-- there is someone you really care about and you are worried about them, am I right?" she muttered hushedly and the former marine only nodded at her statement.

He just wanted this nightmare to end.

He forcely rubbed his temples, a faint migraine starting to bloom in his mind. If this game wouldn't kill him first, then his anxiety would do the trick.

"Everything is going to be fine, don't worry" the girl reassured him and then brought her gaze forward again, focusing on the ending game. With a small but rousing smile she gentlu nudged his arm and pointed ahead.

He lifted his head and saw that the last game has been passed succesfully and now your team was hurrying to the finish line.

When you crossed the finish line, shouts and jubilant yells echoed throughout the room, the other players happy to see the team had passed the test and that there was hope for everyone.

Of course, your team was not the weakest, but it was certainly the least harmonious and uncoordinated of all the others.

Eyes meet.

Hearts leaped.

Even if all the players roared triumphantly they seemed to be suddenly surrounded by a sweet and innocent silence.

You beamed at him, smiling widely and flashing him your white pearls. So lovely and beautiful.

‘Thank you’ were the words your lips mouthed and in exchange you raised your closed fist as a good sign luck. He smiled back, his smile full of adoration for you.

He was really hoping to see you after that game.

However, when your team was being untied by a circle guard and then escorted out of the field, Thanos immediately circled your waist with his arm, pushing you closer to him.

A shiver went down the marine’s spine.

He needed to complete this game, and fast.

Dae-ho needed to save you from that monster’s grasp.

[…]

His team had been the last to play.

No one was present there to cheer on them, only the utter and sinister silence. The guards absent stares on their rigid figures.

But they did it. They passed the game.

All of them being able to succeed in each minigame without too many flaws.

When the doors to the main room opened, Dae-ho noticed how some of the other players let out frustrated groans at their arrive, hoping that more people have died in order to gain more money.

But that wasn’t the case.

The ex-marine’s focus although was set on the crowd ahead, trying to spot your figure anywhere. But he didn’t.

At first he was confused: you had passed, then why weren’t you there? He spotted your former team but you weren’t there either. He tried to calm himself down and distract his distressed mind a bit, following his group to their self-proclaimed spot on the bunks.

Probably you were just in the bathroom. Yeah, you were safe and just needed a moment to use the restroom, nothing drastic.

However, he couldn’t avoid eyeing occasionally at the purple-haired guy, who seemed into his own little word, moving his air in the air and whispering under his breath improvised lyrics.

Then he heard a door open. He settled his eyes on it and suddenly a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. He felt like breathing again.

Firstly he spotted your blonde hair, too unusual to avoid among the sea of dark hair, then your eyes met.

The marine felt a smile creep on his lips when he saw how your eyes lighted up in his presences internally you were practically beaming.

With scurried but silent steps you hurried yourself in his direction, trying to be unspotted by Thanos and Nam-guy. They gave you the heebie-jeebies.

And when you were close enough you literally threw yourself on him. Of course he had been caught off guard but managed to catch you quickly and engulf you in a tight squeeze.

Even if you two didn’t know each other, you felt a deep connection.

You nestled your face in the crook of his neck and at your impulsive action Dae-ho flushed quite heavily but tried to hide it from your view.

Your loving face was hidden but he still heard your muffled words, “I thought I’d never see you again” at those words he smiled warmly and unconsciously tighten his grip around your smaller figure. His touch safe and warm.

Dae-ho tried to calm the incessant beating of his heart, thumping loudly against his chest, and a shaky breath left his mouth, “I’m not going anywhere. I will protect you even if it’ll cost me my life” he murmured back in a gentle reassuring tone “I’m going to get us out of here. I promise”.

He felt your figure shift slightly under his grasp and briefly loosened his arms around you, not letting you go completely.

A hopeful expression was printed on your face, your large eyes staring up at him like he had hung up the stars in the sky, “I know…but please” you pleaded softly “let me help you. We are going to do this together”.

Dae-ho’s heart swelled at your gentle words, bringing solace in his perturbed soul.

“When we’ll get out of here…” he bit his tongue, not sure if continue or not “when we’ll get out of here I would like to shoe you my hometown and…threat you a nice dinner”.

Your rosy lips morphed into an excited grin.

“You need to be treated like a lady…and I would gladly do that, if you’ll allow me”.

Your slim arms encircled around his neck, ushering him closer to you.

“I would love that more than anything”.

[fujoshirat]

Goodbyes ☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾ Child Spotlight: Hana Todoroki! ☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

Goodbyes are hard for Hana.

She’s a sweet, soft-hearted little girl, attached to the ones so kind and loving towards her. A little girl so full of warmth and love that parting with someone she cared about felt like a piece of her heart was being taken away. And when it came to her papa—her strong, kind, gentle papa—goodbyes felt impossible.

The moment Shouto knelt in front of her, jacket zipped up, luggage by the door, and bag slung over his shoulder, Hana’s lips wobbled. The five-year-old knew what was happening. Sometimes, her papa had to go do something important and wouldn’t come back for what seemed like a long time (weeks felt like years to the little girl).

She tried to be brave, just like Yueru told her to be ("Papa is super strong! He'll be back before you know it!"), but when he cupped her tiny face in his warm hands, she burst into tears. Dropping Sa-kun, the jellycat stuffed animal hitting the ground softly.

“I don’t want you to go, Papa!” she hiccupped, flinging her arms around his neck and burying her face against him.

Your husband held her close, stroking her back in slow, soothing motions. “I know, my princess. But I’ll be home soon, I promise.” This only made her cry even more, hot tears pouring down her mochi, cherub cheeks. Shouto’s heart clenched at his youngest’s tears, reminded of how you looked when you cried.

The red-and-white-haired sighed, kissing the top of her head. It was always too long for her, no matter how short the trip actually was. He pulled back just enough to look into her teary eyes. “I'll only be gone for two weeks, and it'll go by so fast.”

Hana sniffled, rubbing her eyes, too upset to respond. Shouto discreetly glances up at his wife, heterochromatic eyes studying your expression. It’s unreadable, a hint of sorrow—emotions mirroring your youngest.

Goodbyes were always hard for you too, even before having children. He already kissed you and the twins goodbye, Hana having stopped him from finally departing. Your eyes were glossy, and he knew tears would soon fall down your pretty face.

“Hana-chan,” Shouto whispers, stroking her (y/h/c) hair. “I need you to do something very important for me, can you do it?” The five-year-old’s doe eyes reflect curiosity as she nods, sniffling.

“While I’m gone, you need to take care of Mama for me. Can you do that, my sweet?” Wiping her snot with her sleeve, Hana shakes her head in response. “Okay… but only if Mama lets me sleep in the big bed.” A soft laugh escapes Shouto’s lips.

“I’m sure she will. Thank you, Hana.”

And just like that, for the next few days, Hana stayed glued to your side. She climbed into the master bed every night, holding her rabbit stuffy and tiny frame swallowed up by one of Shouto’s old shirts that still smelt like him. She refused to sleep without it, hiding it away in her bedroom whenever it was laundry day (you had to make her watch TV while eating dinner just so you could spend 30 minutes trying to find the shirt, and when you found it and put it in the washer, she wouldn’t stop crying until Aki and Haru dug out another of your husband’s old shirts). Even during the day, she stuck close, holding hands, following you around the house while her older siblings were at school, always seeking comfort in the absence of her papa.

Two long weeks without Shouto, and to the rest of the world, it seemed like you were managing everything perfectly.

In theory, you were. Groceries were properly restocked, no uniforms lost their buttons, no plates were dropped. The spitting image of a proper, well-rounded hero housewife. It helped a lot to have 9 years of experience. But emotionally? You felt unstable and drained.

Every night, when Hana clung to you in the master bed, her tiny fingers curled around the fabric of your shirt, you swore you could still smell Shoto’s scent lingering on the pillow beside you. It was comforting and agonizing all at once. You knew he would come back—he always did—but knowing didn’t make the waiting any easier.

Hana wasn’t the only one struggling. One could say that you struggled the most.

The night of Shouto’s flight, you woke up to the feeling of movement beside you. Groggily, your eyes flutter open as little kicks and wiggles nudge your side. The culprit? Your youngest, squirming and shifting around in bed with a small pout on her face. Even though she went to bed with her rabbit, it was no longer by her side. Instead, it was by your neck, tossed carelessly in her sleepy fit.

“Baby,” you croaked, voice heavy with sleep. “What’s wrong? Sa-kun’s right here” Hana sniffled, rubbing her tired eyes full of distress. “’Can’t sleep, mama…” You lift up the blanket, gesturing for her to cuddle up. Hana eagerly tucks herself into your arms, a wave of Shouto’s scent flooding your nose. God, you miss him.

“’Miss Papa,” she whispers, voice wobbily as she hugs her plushy. “When is he coming home?” You shift closer to her, kissing her forehead and stroking her (y/h/c) locks away from her eyes. “Soon, lovebug. His flight should be coming in.” The little girl lets out a tired, shaky breath before nodding against you. Gingerly, you cup her cheek and smile at her.

“You’re tired, Hana-chan. Can you go to sleep for me? You and Sa-kun have to sleep so you can see Papa.”

Hana blinked up at you, her tiny fingers clutching at your shirt and the rabbit. Then, with a slow nod, she nestled closer. Within moments, her breathing evened out, warm and steady against you.

You stayed awake just a little longer, watching over her, listening to the quiet of the house. Yueru and Yuuri in one bedroom and Aki and Haru in another, all four children sleeping peacefully upstairs. It was just you and Hana, in the big bed.

Just as sleep began to pull you under, the faintest sound of the front door unlocking reached your ears. Your brows furrowed, and for a second, your half-asleep brain struggled to process it. Then, the quiet creak of the door closing, the rustle of a coat being shrugged off.

Your heart lurched.

Soft, familiar footsteps padded through the house, moving with careful intent. You barely had time to sit up before the bedroom door eased open, revealing the broad-shouldered silhouette of your husband.

“Shouto?” you whispered, voice thick with exhaustion and relief.

The moment his name left your lips, he was at your side, kneeling by the bed without hesitation. He didn’t even bother putting his things away—his luggage sat forgotten by the door, his jacket abandoned somewhere in the hallway. His eyes, still drowsy from travel, softened instantly at the sight of you both.

“My loves,” he murmured, reaching out to brush his knuckles over your cheek.

Your tired eyes burned as you leaned into his touch, drinking in the familiar warmth of his palm, the faint chill of his travel-worn skin. Shouto recognized it, that tiredness that always seemed to come when he left you, a sense of guilt flooding him.

“You’re home,” you breathed.

His lips twitched into the smallest smile. “I am.”

A soft sigh left you as the tension melted from your body. Your arms fly around him, senses going overload by his presence. He was really here, your husband was home. Cool, soft lips press against yours, a feeling you missed dearly these last 14 days.

Then, as if sensing his presence even in sleep, Hana stirred, making a tiny noise before blinking up at you with bleary eyes.

“Papa?” she mumbled.

Shouto’s breath hitched, and before you could say a word, he shifted onto the bed, gathering your daughter into his arms. Hana let out a soft, sleepy sob, little fingers clutching at his shirt.

“Uwah….”

“I’m home,” he promised, pressing a kiss into her hair.

With Hana snug in his embrace, Shouto looked back at you, exhaustion and love written all over his face.

Making space, you let Shouto tuck in, and he wraps an arm around you while letting his youngest sleep tucked into his chest. It hadn’t even been five minutes, yet she was knocked out cold. Shouto gently takes his daughter’s plushy and tucks it in Hana’s arms, earning a subconscious sigh from her. You also sigh, letting your head rest against his shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His familiar warmth felt so nice, like a soft, weighted blanket. “I missed you,” you murmur softly. Shouto’s throat tightens at your words. "I missed you too, Y/N."

Nothing compares to actually being with you in person, and even though you both facetimed every day, talking and speaking to you on the screen wasn’t enough for the red-and-white-haired man.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered, pressing soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ve got you, dove. I’m home.”

Goodbyes are hard for everyone, but with every return, love shared in the moment makes it all worthwhile.

This is a feeling that you, Shouto, and your sweet little (big) family know so well.

☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴍʏ ᴇᴀʀ

…𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 ���𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭

angst, smut (mostly descriptive), friends to lovers, unresolved, no happy ending, suggestive, making out, heartbreak, emotional manipulation, self-destructive behavior, toxic dynamics, fluff if u squint, romance, intimacy, friends with benefits, betrayal, unrequited love?, slow burn, self-sabotage

listen to the song that inspired this fic while reading!

word count - 3k

Matt has a scar on his temple. She’s always liked to run her hand over it. The first time she tried, he flinched, batted her hand away, mumbled something about personal space.

She stopped after that. Until one day, he caught her staring.

"You wanna hear a story?" he asked, grinning like he had a secret. "Got mauled by a bear once. Barely made it out."

She almost called his bluff. Almost.

Instead, she smiled, seeing it for what it was... permission. To touch him. To know him in ways he wouldn’t always say.

Maybe she loves that he never tells the truth straight. Maybe she loves that she doesn't really understand him.

Maybe she just loves him.

It was not always a thing. Her… curiousity. Affection. Desire.

When they were very little, she used to follow him and his brothers around. It was easy to. Not to mention that people liked them, because they were charming, and funny, and genuine. She stuck by Matt's side through school, feeling safe and protected under his wing like a small bird. He teased her, sure, even back then. Always sitting beside him, walking directly behind him, looking out for his reaction when she told a joke or shared a story.

Eventually, they reached that age where it was only natural for her to distance herself slightly. Things became less ritual, less assumed, and she found herself asking for permission, looking for his affirmation, seeking out his validation.

Sometime after 10th grade, she started spending the night again. Mostly in Matt’s room. He let her in. And she took what she could get. They didn’t ever cuddle or anything. Mostly Matt would talk, and she would listen. She absorbed everything, every word, every silence. The care she had for him ran so deep she felt it inside sometimes, to the rhythm of her heartbeat, spreading through her like oxygen. He asks her questions sometimes, questions that a part of her finds silly and stupid, his boyish brain not quite at her contemplative level. She forced herself not to mind. To appreciate it.

When she does talk, in those late hours, staring up at the ceiling, she can tell he’s not really listening. He’s too… wrapped up in himself. It’s not that he doesn’t care. He’s probably just stressed. 

She hopes Matt cares. Maybe he does, just not as much as her. He likes the safety of the distance between them. But just enough, sure, maybe he cares.

That night, they end up in his room. He always lets her stay when the world gets too loud. Everything feels too quiet, too intimate here. It’s a comfortable space, familiar in a way that makes her want to curl up and stay forever. She rests her head against his pillow, the soft fabric of his sleeve brushing against her forehead as she stares at the ceiling.

When she wakes, they’re the closest they’ve ever been. The sunlight manages to shine directly into the corner of her eye, so she squints. And then she sees him. Feels him. He’s holding her, his arm draped over her waist, hand grazing her stomach as her back leans against him. She sees him so clearly. Pulling her toward him in the most innocent of ways.

She feels the goodness radiating off her bones and she becomes fearful. That he’s probably known all along, even when she hasn’t. That she likes him. Really, really likes him. 

The heat doesn’t overcome the fear then, it doesn’t pool in her stomach until much, much later. It’s not till they’re eating cereal, all of them together, and someone is telling a story, and all she can do is watch as Matt suppresses his laughter. She can’t help but see the little boy in him, always. Nothing about him is malevolent to her. Even when he smirks, teasing or mocking her, she feels nothing but warmth.

She goes to parties, tries to find another guy, another boy to kiss to avoid even thinking of Matt like that. It doesn’t work of course.

She gives away her virginity to the boy in her math class. The one who didn’t mean any harm and therefore, doesn’t cause her any. He doesn’t make her feel good, but she holds him close to hide his face so that she can tug on the brown hair and pretend all is well.

And then one night, when she finally admits to herself that none of it is working, she allows her mind to wander. To truly contemplate, what it might be like. To be loved like that. By him. 

She doesn’t drift for more than mere seconds before she finally feels the warmth return. In her mind, her thoughts recall how Matt's lips hover above her ear at parties just before he leaves her alone in the corner. She could come already, it’s pathetic.

The fantasy is shattered when she remembers him kissing another girl right after.

She’s not jealous. She doesn’t need to, doesn’t want to feel special. He lets her in and that’s enough.

She touches herself to kill the emotion, replaying the scene from an outsider’s perspective. His lips on her ear. His lips on her ear. His lips on her ear. It rewinds and distorts but it’s no matter. She’s already sticky and shameful, childlike. 

She doesn’t dare to do it again, she already regrets it and can’t look him in the eye anymore. It’s almost like he knows about the sick fantasy, and he's constantly trying to catch her with his eyes like a hunter. 

It’s only because of this that she pictures him beneath her. His eyes so wide and disconcerted, like a deer in headlights. Just like a baby animal, and her fear dissipates to the rhythm of her touch, pretending, praying that the emotion will die once more if she gives the fantasy just enough room to breathe.

And then one night they’re talking about love, true love. Their beliefs, hopes and truths, and she lies, she lies like she loves him and wants to protect him. Treats herself like the one in the wrong. She knows that this conversation is only happening because nothing will ever happen between them. She hopes that that's true because she can’t handle the end of her love, not in the way he can.

Sometime between their complete and utter closeness, they both find comfort in others. She still searches for Matt though, always, always, always.

Sometime between the external comfort, they find their way back to his room, his bed. And he holds her again, more and more these days and she wonders why.

And it’s sick and twisted because it happens. In his bed. His lips hovering on her ear, expressing his shallow gratitude. She can’t help it, she gasps lightly. It’s the best she can manage without taking advantage of his closeness.

Unfortunately, Matt notices it, and he whispers again. 

“Do you like it baby?”, she feels his warmth breath coat her like the sun, “My mouth on your ear?”

Something shrivels up and dies inside her then, the reluctance, the pre-emptive disappointment, and she nods, squirming in his grip. “Mhm,” she whines. They fall asleep like that, cuddling like lovers as Matt whispers in her ear, sending her into a beautiful trance.

In the morning, they don’t speak of it. He’s there, a vessel of her comfort as always. Days pass, and she touches herself again, thoughts of Matt creeping in as always. 

They remain who they’ve always been to the outside world. Friends. Good friends. But back in his room, as she leans against the wall his bed touches, she doesn’t feel anything like that. 

He’s sitting at his desk, back to her.

“Matt,” she says, her voice quiet, but he turns around as the silence hangs in the air between them, sharp and fragile. “Do you ever think about... us?”

He looks at her, his brow furrowing slightly, and for the first time, she sees something flicker in his eyes. Uncertainty. He chuckles, but it’s not his usual carefree laugh. It’s tight, almost defensive.

“What do you mean, ‘us’?” he asks, trying to mask the tension in his voice with the ease he’s perfected over the years.

She takes a breath, the weight of her own words heavier than she expected. She knows this is risky, but it’s impossible to hold it in any longer. “I mean… us, as more than just…” She gestures between them, frustrated, unsure how to finish the sentence without sounding foolish. “More than just… how we are. What we are.”

He shifts, his posture stiffening. His hand tightens against the armrest, his jaw set. “We’ve always been like this,” he says, and there’s that familiar nonchalance, the wall he’s always built between them. “Don’t need anything else. It’s enough.”

Her chest tightens, the words falling flat even as she tries to smile. “Maybe,” she whispers, but her voice shakes. “But what about me?”

There’s a pause, a heartbeat that lingers too long in the air between them. And for the briefest moment, she swears she sees something flicker in his eyes. Something softer, something afraid.

But then it’s gone, hidden behind that same smile that’s never quite reached his eyes.

“I’m not looking for a relationship,” he says, more to himself than to her, his voice a little too calm. “You know that.”

She nods, the weight of his words sinking in. She’s heard this before… just never to her. She should know better, shouldn’t she? But it feels different this time. It feels like a denial, not just of her feelings, but of something they could have shared. Maybe she’s been fooling herself all along.

“I know,” she says, her voice small, barely audible over the noise. “I know.”

It's still not over after that conversation. She’s still completely at his mercy and she can’t bring herself to walk away, to shatter. It’s like she wants him to hurt her. For it to be his fault, and not hers. She tells herself she can move on, that she can bury the feelings that have only been growing with each passing moment. She’s had enough of the games. Enough of the waiting. Even edging herself and relieving herself does little good.

It’s just not that simple.

The next few days pass in a blur. She tries to keep her distance, but something keeps drawing her back to him…like a magnetic pull she can’t escape, the years, the way he’s always been there. And then there’s a moment, late one night, when everything just cracks. They’re in his room again, the same room that’s always felt like home and a cage at the same time. She’s sitting on the edge of his bed, talking about nothing and everything, and then he’s there, too close again.

And before she even knows what’s happening, his lips are on hers.

It’s not like the kisses she’s had before, quick and careless, stolen moments that never meant anything. This one is different. This one makes her feel like she’s floating, like she’s finally found a place she’s meant to be. She’s shocked, clawing at the air for a second. Then his hand cups the side of her face, and she presses closer, her fingers gripping the back of his shirt, pulling him in.

It’s a moment that feels like everything. Like it’s all been leading to this. And for a little while, she forgets about the rules he’s laid down. She forgets about the distance he’s kept between them. She just lets herself feel it, the heat, the intensity, the way his lips move against hers like they’ve done this a thousand times before.

He groans into her mouth, and pulls away abruptly. But she’s desperate, kissing him again as they fall down onto the bed, their chests pressed against each other. 

Somehow the moment is passionate, the way he undresses her, caresses her, tells her she’s beautiful. He whispers in her ear as he moves within her and she whimpers, closer and closer to the high she’s been yearning for. 

His mouth trails over her chest as she arches her back away from him. He cups her breast with his warm hand, kneading it and massaging it. “I love how you respond to me, to my touch.”

He enters her slower, deeper, “I want you to feel it baby. I want you to feel good. Feel loved.” She moans at his words and looks back staring into his eyes, the innocent gaze of a friend she’s known for as long as she’s known her own name. They both come with a final rough movment from him and collapse onto each other.

It feels loving, like devotion, and when he eventually pulls out, she feels full of bliss. 

He gets on his knees pulling on his shirt before glancing back at her. She pours all of her love into her post-orgasm stare. He smiles, shy, before looking back down and kneeling down to kiss her core. Slowly but surely, he overstimulates her, making out with the most private part of her, cleaning her, loving her.

She smiles, content. Empty, but newly joined. Hopeful. 

But the next morning, everything is different.

He’s distant again, almost like nothing happened. His eyes avoid hers, and the silence stretches between them like an ocean, too wide to cross. He doesn’t mention the kiss. Doesn’t acknowledge what happened after.

This time, it’s different though. She knows it, and he knows it. The unspoken tension hangs in the air between them, undeniable. They don’t say the words, but there’s a shift. A silent agreement in the way he watches her when he thinks she's not looking, the way she can’t stop looking at him, even as she tries to pretend like it doesn’t matter.

Eventually, after days of this unspoken tension, Matt says something. Casual, almost teasing, like they’re joking, like nothing matters.

“You think we could do this... and whatever? A compromise?” he says, voice low but eyes still holding hers.

She knows what he means. And she knows that this isn’t the kind of thing that can be taken back. It’s an offer, a dangerous one, and she’s so close to refusing, but instead, she finds herself nodding. She’s done pretending. She’s done with the half-truths.

“I’m fine with it,” she murmurs. “Don’t need much more.”

Matt looks at her, eyes sharp. “We can make this work,” he promises, but the words are hollow. She knows that. The question hangs there between them, a fragile thread strung across a chasm of things unsaid. He knows it too. But he won't say it.

They’re tangled together in the silence that follows, a pact neither of them can take back. It’s something they’ve both tried to avoid for so long. But now, in the wake of everything they’ve built up and torn down, it feels like the only thing left to do.

The bed feels too small for both of them, a tight coil that she can't escape. She lies back, her head sinking into the pillow, the weight of the room pressing down on her. Matt’s silhouette stands over her, a shadow she can’t shake off. The space between them is thick, suffocating. She breathes in, and the air feels heavier, as though every inch she takes toward him is another step toward the inevitable.

She tells herself it’s fine, that it’s just for now, just something to fill the space between them, to fill the gaps in the way they’ve always existed. No expectations. No pressure.

But as they fall into each other again, the boundaries blur, and everything shifts. The kisses feel deeper, the touches linger longer. He holds her. He holds her. His mouth over her ear.

She’s still scared, still bracing herself for the inevitable crash, the heartbreak she knows will come when it’s over. But right now, she can’t bring herself to care.

She should feel anger, or sadness… maybe both. But instead, she feels something worse: a sick, hollow longing. It's the kind of want that gnaws at her, the kind of want that tells her that even knowing this will hurt her, she would still do it. She would still step forward. Because for the first time in too long, something feels real, even if it’s doomed..

She’s already made her bed. She might as well lie down with him.

She’s always known this would happen. She’s always known Matt would leave her wanting, never giving enough to truly stay, yet always giving just enough to keep her hooked. But now, with the decisive touches, the silence, the empty space between them, it’s different. The fear she used to feel…fear that he might hurt her, might break her heart, is gone. There’s no surprise in it anymore. There’s only a cold certainty, a sharp knowledge of how deep the hurt will run.

And somehow, she feels it before it even happens… the ache of knowing this will end badly. But there's a strange warmth in the hurt. The promise of it. A twisted comfort, like preparing for a storm you can't stop, but somehow want. The thought of it burns, and she lets it. 

She knows how it will feel when it all unravels, but she can’t help the thrill that shivers up her spine. She can’t help the way her chest tightens with anticipation, knowing just how bad it will get.

She’s looking forward to the kill.

She’ll lie in this bed she made, her heart tangled in him, and she’ll let it consume her, because it’s the only thing that’s ever felt true.

creds to rose @bernardsbendystraws for the dividers!!!

+ thank u @cowboylikenat for ur feedback <3

a/n: i swore i'd never write smut yet here we are.

taglist: @blushsturns @sturnslutz @snoopychris @sturnshood @sturns-mermaid @chrissweetheart comment to be added to my main (non-au) taglist!!

till next time!!!!

[authorsofghosts]

Sin | Kurt Wagner x Reader

Summery: Kurt likes you. Maybe a little too much. He can't stop thinking about you, and it causes him to get in his head a little too much,

Themes: Angst -> Smut, Mutual Crush, Open Ending, Alcohol/Drinking, Awkwardness, Character Cameo, Flirting, Kurt Has a Beard and Forked Tongue (because fuck you), His face is also skin (not fur), Oral (male receiving), Porn with Plot, Shorter!R (<5'9), R is a mutant/x-man (No Powers Written), Religion Talk.

Word Count: ~1.8k

@sometimescherwrites spare wife? spare wife?

NSFW MDNI 18+ ONLY

Kurt sat there, tail wrapped around his leg, staring at you as he fidgeted with his rosary. You sat across the dining room table, eating and not even aware that his glowing yellow eyes were boring into you. He swallowed hard, looking down at his own plate of food that was left untouched. He looked to his side, being nudged by the elbow of the person next to him.

"Distracted, bub?" Logan snickered slightly.

"No," Kurt lied, grabbing his forking and stabbing it into whatever was on his plate, shaking his head. The spade of his tail taps his calf anxiously. "Was just praying."

Logan shock his head, knowing better, but not prying much further. Kurt stared down at his food to try and focus on that instead of you. He doesn't know what it is about you, but he's absolutely entranced by anything you do. A simple flick of your hair, your laugh, anything.

He sneaks small glances in your direct anytime he'd hear you speak, a smile smile on his blue lips. He didn't dare look at you long enough for you to notice. He didn't know what kept him from his usual confidence with you, but it drove him crazy. He finishes dinner as quick as possible, dismissing himself.

He sneaks into the halls of the mansion, finding himself on his way to his room on autopilot. He puts his hand on his door as he turns the knob, pointed ears perking up as he hears a voice from behind him.

"Kurt? You ask softly, brows knitted together as you looked at someone you thought of as a friend, maybe even just a little bit more. He looks... sad. Not himself.

He turned to you, his eyes wide. He clears his throat, tilting his head just enough for his onyx curls to shift to one side. "Ja?" He whispers, not meaning to.

"Are you... okay?" You ask, taking a few steps closer to him. Your eyes flicked down to his hands as he turned, leaning against the door to his room. "I mean, you were really quiet, you're usually the life of the party."

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing. He had been stuck in his own head this evening, maybe because of you, maybe because of something else. He wouldn't admit it, however. "Nein, no, I'm uh... I'm fine, liebchen." He laughs out halfheartedly.

You didn't believe him, hearing the waver in his voice that makes it obvious he's lying. "You sure? Do you wanna... talk about anything?" You probe.

Your concern for his well being makes his heart flip, his face reflecting it in the worst way possible. "You know, uh..." He starts, trailing off immediately, tail flicking behind him. "How about we have a discussion, over a glass of wine, perchance?"

Kurt smiled at your sudden tension, putting out his three fingered hand. You looked at him, trying to hold back a smile. You take his hand, your wrist immediately being wrapped around by his tail as his other hand opens his door.

"You have wine?" You ask finally.

"Ah, Charles allows me it for religious purposes. Though, I may abuse this small allowance." He smiles softly, his own cheeks flushed a soft purple.

"I see." You say, looking around his room. It was more... red than you imagined. Of course, that was his favorite color, besides black. He made sure to let everyone know that it was not blue.

Kurt walked over to his desk, pulling out a drawer and pulling out a box. He grabbed two glasses out of it before showing you the bottle of wine. "Does it suffice?" He joked.

"I'm sure it won't kill me." You chuckled, sitting in a comfortable looking arm chair in the corner of his room. He turned on his desk lamp before sitting in the rolling chair, leaning back as he poured the glasses of wine.

"I assure you I'd never poison you, mein Liebe." He chuckled, handing you your glass. You take a slow sip, looking at him as he watches you with a smile.

The short, shallow glass has barely enough wine to cause anyone to get even a little buzzed, but the thought and caring act is still there. "So, are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

Kurt chokes slightly on his wine as he realized he did promise you to talk about what had him in his head. His brain works overtime to try and think of anything but you. He sighed, smiling as he laughs softly, "I guess I may just be a little out of my element. I'm rather, ah, how do you say..." He clicks his tongue in thought, stroking his beard. He looks at you, judging your reaction before he continues. "A little lovesick, I guess."

Your eyes widen, looking at him. You take another sip of the wine, looking down. You knew he could never like you back. It's just a stupid crush anyways, Kurt couldn't like you, so you looked at him with a fake smile. "Lovesick? You?"

"Ah, yes, I am." He says, blushing furiously. "They, uh... they're very nice." He laughs, scooting forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at you. "Funny, cute, powerful..."

The way his eyes are half lidded clues you in in something that makes all your self doubt disappear in moments. "Do I... know them?" You ask softly. He smirks, leaning back again, spreading his legs apart, nodding. "Are they on the team?"

He chuckles softly, setting his half drank glass of wine down. "I think you know them very well, actually." He looked at you, fidgeting with his rosary once again. His thumb rubs the cross as he fights back to urge to bite his lip.

You feel your face heat up, realizing exactly who he's talking about. You take another sip of wine, setting your glass down and sitting up slightly. "Very well you say?" You stammer slightly, looking into his yellow eyes.

"Yes. And I think you know who I'm talking about, don't you, mein Schatz?"

The words send a chill down your spine, and you stand up, making his eyes widen. You can't help but take two steps forward and place your lips again his, hand resting on his chin. It takes but a split second for him to kiss back, forked tongue snaking around yours before you overpower it.

You fall into him, your hands quick to wrap around his shoulders and tangle in his hair, pouring all the pent up feelings into this one moment. You pulling slightly on his hair, making him whine and pull back. "You're very forward."

"Shut up." You murmur against his lips before pressing yours to his again, "You talk too much." You say before biting his bottom lip, pulling it into your mouth before licking and sucking on it. He gasps, a small whimper escaping his throat. "Oh?" You laugh, pressing your forehead to his.

He looks up into your eyes, his own illuminating your flushed cheeks. He blinks a few times before he pulling you down to kiss him again. "Silence." He murmurs, picking you up and laying down on the bed, placing you atop him.

"No, I don't want you to be quiet. And I'm not going to be quiet either." You smile, handing gripping his hair again, pulling and causing him to gasp, a muffled 'Scheiße' falling from his lips as yours fall down to his neck, nipping softly.

You continue to travel down his torso, taking his shirt off somewhere in the process. You trail soft kisses along his fur, looking up at him as he watched you with wide eyes, continuing to whine and whimper with each caress and press of your lips again his body. You palm his bulge, eyes widening at the sheer size. "I see you're ready, huh?"

"Sh-shut up." He whispers, eyes rolling back. He gasps as your hand travels into his pants, "Fuck, please-" He whines out, hips bucking up into your hand.

"Patience, Kurt..." You say, pressing a kiss to his lower stomach, slowly pulling his pant and boxers down. His cock springs out, hitting his abs as he groans. "So pretty." You whisper, your hand wrapping around the blue length, "Such a pretty boy, huh?"

Kurt hisses at the touch and praise, head falling back. You pump his cock, the head turning a slight purple as beads or precum drips from it. You take his tip into your mouth, watching his face intently as you suckle, tongue swirling around it and collecting each pearl of savory salty pre. You pull back, panting, your breath making his dick twitch more. "P-please, don't stop." He stutters, making you smile wider.

"You want me to continue?" You ask. He nods in response, biting his lip as he looks down at you between his legs, the image more than he can handle. He turns his head, putting a hand in front of his face.

"Oh, no you don't. eyes on me, Kurt." You purr softly, licking up his length, kissing softly until he finally can't handle the teasing and looks into your eyes once again. "Good, good boy." You smile, sitting up slightly before pushing a good inch or so of his dick into your mouth.

"Ah- Scheiße, fuck-" He moans out, hips bucking into your mouth, pushing more into your mouth. You don't pull back, however, just pushing his cock head into your throat and opening wider, hallowing your cheeks to fit it. Kurt continues to moan out, almost pathetically, as your lips and mouth travel up and down his shaft.

It twitches as more pearly white precum falls against your tongue. "Ah, Liebchen, fuck-" He groans, getting closer as you push his length down your throat, the sound almost pornographic before you pull his dick out your mouth, pumping slowly.

"You gonna cum for me, huh? You gonna be good and cum in my mouth, right?"

"Y-yes, please, ah... Please, more." He whines out, his hand finding your face, stroking your cheek. You take this as a sign for you to get back to business.

It doesn't take but a few more seconds of your mouth and hands for him to release into your mouth, paint it white. You swallow happily, taking each spurt.

You pull back, climbing on top of him once again and looking down at his pathetically smiling face. "You ready for more?" You ask softly. He answers with a soft nod.

Kurt would be lying if he didn't go to the closest confessional booth the next morning.

[cayleeuhithinknott]

matt’s so grateful you’ve agreed to his deal, because he loves to show his girl off—no matter how shy you may be.

pairing: sweetheart!matt & shy!reader

matt’s waiting for you by the bedroom door, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, rocking back and forth on his heels. he’s already dressed—black jeans, a sweater that hugs his broad shoulders just right, hair all tousled like he just ran his fingers through it a few too many times. he looks effortlessly good, like he always does. like he didn’t even have to try.

you, on the other hand, feel like you’re about to throw up.

you stare at your reflection in the mirror, the dress you picked out earlier feeling like it’s suddenly working against you. when you bought it, you thought it was perfect—something a little different from what you usually wear, something pretty, something that made you feel…somewhat confident.

but now, standing in it, nerves curl tight in your stomach.

it’s too much. too fitted, too noticeable.

what if people stare? what if you look ridiculous? what if matt doesn’t like it?

your fingers twitch toward the hem, pulling at the fabric slightly. maybe you should just change. you could throw on a sweater and jeans and be comfortable, be invisible.

you take a step toward your closet, ready to pull the dress over your head and shove it into the back of the drawer where you won’t have to think about it again. but before you can grab anything else, there’s a soft knock at the door.

“baby?”

his voice is gentle, like it always is when he talks to you. patient. careful.

you squeeze your eyes shut for a second.

“we okay in there?”

you swallow, shifting on your feet. “yeah… just, um… i don’t—i don’t know if i should wear this.”

there’s a pause. you can hear him breathing on the other side of the door, like he’s thinking.

“can i see?”

you hesitate, staring at yourself again, debating if you should just lie and say you’re changing. but before you can decide, the door creaks open slightly, just enough for matt to peek in.

he sees you, and his brows lift slightly before his face softens like he can’t believe what he’s looking at.

“oh.” his voice is quiet, almost breathless. “oh, love, you look beautiful.”

you shift under his gaze, your fingers twisting together. “i don’t know…”

matt steps fully into the room, shutting the door behind him. he closes the space between you in an instant, tilting your chin up with the lightest touch so you’re looking at him.

“hey,” he murmurs. “why are you so unsure, sweetheart?”

you bite the inside of your cheek. “it just…feels like a lot. i don’t usually wear stuff like this. i feel weird.”

matt’s hands slip to your waist, fingers pressing lightly into the fabric, holding you there like he doesn’t want you to run.

“you feel weird?” he repeats, his lips quirking up a little. “why?”

“because…” you trail off, feeling ridiculous.

because people might stare. because you don’t know how to take compliments. because you’re scared you don’t look as good as you hoped.

but matt is looking at you like you hung the stars, and it makes all those worries jumble together and get stuck in your throat.

“what if i look stupid?” you blurt out instead, and your face burns immediately.

matt blinks once, then shakes his head, exhaling a soft laugh before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“maple,” he murmurs against your skin, his lips curving. “sweetheart. there is no universe where you could ever look stupid.”

you scrunch your nose at him, unconvinced. “you have to say that. you’re my boyfriend.”

“wrong,” he says easily. “i don’t have to say anything. but i am saying it, because it’s true.”

you peek up at him through your lashes, still a little uncertain, and he sighs playfully, shaking his head like he can’t believe he has to prove this to you.

he steps back slightly, just enough to take a slow, exaggerated look at you from head to toe. he tilts his head, squints, crosses his arms like he’s analyzing something very, very serious.

“hm,” he hums, tapping his chin. “yeah, no. you don’t look stupid. you look…” he trails off dramatically before breaking into a soft grin. “gorgeous. absolutely beautiful.”

you groan, hiding your face in your hands, and he just laughs, pulling you closer again.

“i’m serious,” he insists. “you don’t have to wear it if you really don’t want to. but if you’re just nervous, i promise you, there’s no reason to be. you look incredible. i mean it.”

his voice is steady, like he’s not just saying it to make you feel better, like he actually believes it.

“you really think so?” you whisper.

matt smiles, leaning down just enough to brush his nose against yours. “sweetheart, i know so.”

you don’t respond, still chewing on your lip, and matt sighs, his hands tightening slightly on your waist.

“okay, how about this,” he offers. “we take a test run. we plan to go to dinner and then on a walk downtown, yes?” he asks, and you nod. “you wear it for the first half of our date, and if at any point you feel uncomfortable, i’ll take you home and you can change into something comfy, and we’ll just have a movie night, no questions asked. deal?”

you hesitate, then nod slowly. “deal.”

“good,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “because i really, really want to show you off tonight.”

you flush, but his words settle something in you.

and as he takes your hand, leading you out the door, you decide—maybe just for tonight—you can believe him.

a/n: short and sweet 💖 i love this au sm. he’s so cute

tags: @sturniolo04 @admeliora94 @alexturnersgooch @strnilolover @snuffbut @frattboychris @marrykisskilled @mqttittude @purpledragon222 @aubsloveschris @slctsblogana @emely9274 @oliviasthatgirl @conspiracy-ash @matthewsroses

[antinousletmehit]

I had a TERRIBLE day so may I please have some soft antinous with his sister, like some gentle moments or smt

She sat on the floor in front of Antinous, grumbling as he awkwardly tried to braid her hair.“Ow! You’re pulling too hard!” she whined, swatting his hands away.

Antinous groaned. “Stop moving! I don’t know how to do this crap!”

She crossed her arms. “Then why are you even trying?”

“Because you look like a wild animal,” he muttered, tying the end of the braid (very poorly). “There. Done.”

She reached back, feeling the messy, lopsided disaster. She turned around and deadpanned at him. “What is this?”

Antinous smirked. “A masterpiece.”

She huffed, undid the braid, and grabbed his wrist. “Fine. If you wanna do my hair, you have to let me do yours.”

He tried to pull away. “Like hell you will—” But it was too late. She pounced onto his back, shoving his hair into a dozen tiny braids, giggling as she messed with it.

Eurymachus walked in, took one look at Antinous, and burst out laughing. Antinous sighed.

—

“Alright,” Antinous said, holding up his fists, “if you wanna fight, you gotta start with a good stance.” She mimicked him, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Now,” he continued, “try to hit me.” She grinned—then immediately kicked him in the shin.

Antinous yelped and clutched his leg. “You little—that’s not how you fight!”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t kick you,” she said smugly.

Antinous glared at her, then lunged, scooping her up and dropping her into the grass. She flopped like a ragdoll.

She sat up, pouting. “That’s cheating.”

He smirked, ruffling her hair. “No, that’s winning.”

—

She sat at the table, swinging her feet as she ate. Antinous watched her for a moment before suddenly gripping her cheeks.

“Why,” he groaned, squeezing them together, “are you so damn cute?”

She made a muffled noise, trying to swat his hands away.

Eurymachus, passing by, snickered. “Cuteness aggression again?”

Antinous squished her face even tighter. “Look at her! Look at her stupid tiny face!”

She bit his hand.

Antinous yelped and jerked back. “You little—!”

She stuck out her tongue and ran off, laughing as Antinous chased after her.

—

Antinous was leaning back against the wall, exhausted, when he felt a weight press against his side. He glanced down. She had curled up next to him, her head resting against his arm, eyes closed.

He sighed. “…Great. Now I can’t move.”

Eurymachus, sitting nearby, smirked. “Aren’t you gonna shove her off?”

Antinous huffed but didn’t push her away. “Nah. She’s already annoying when she’s awake. Might as well enjoy the silence.”

But as he said that, his arm instinctively wrapped around her shoulder, keeping her steady.

Eurymachus grinned. “You’re such a softie.”

“Shut up.”

—

“Let go of me!” She kicked and thrashed, but Antinous effortlessly slung her over his shoulder.

“You threw a shoe at Melanthius,” he said flatly.

“He deserved it!”

Antinous sighed, walking through the halls while she flailed. Suitors chuckled as they passed.

“She causing trouble again?” Amphinomus asked.

Antinous rolled his eyes. “When isn’t she?”

“I’M BEING KIDNAPPED!” She shrieked.

Antinous gave her a light smack on the back. “No, you’re being carried home like the brat you are.”

She just huffed, crossing her arms.

And when he finally dropped her onto her bed, she immediately grabbed his tunic, refusing to let go.

Antinous sighed. “What now?”

She mumbled sleepily, “Don’t leave.”

He hesitated—then sat beside her, arms crossed. “Fine. But if you snore, I’m leaving.”

She just yawned and curled up next to him.

And despite his words, he stayed.

[thatanimewriter]

𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘 - 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘴.

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❝ 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞. ❞ ── 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘹 𝘨𝘯. 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

you used to be a bodyguard for sunday and robin, but after a certain accident involving robin, you've been stripped of your job to work for siobhan. you've never seen sunday or robin since until this year's charmony festival.

── 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 + 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

silk bedsheets suffocated sunday's brain as he willed himself to sleep that night. his pyjamas stuck to his supple skin and his limbs tingled in a way that was unfamiliar. he inhaled deeply as he continued to try to relax his body, but his lips pursed and his brows furrowed as images from your death flashed in his mind.

a finger twitched and he sat up, running a hand through his sweaty hair. his jaw clenched and he glanced at the clock beside his bed with exhaustion.

2:19 am.

sunday flopped onto his side and sighed, shutting his eyelids and hoping sleep would possess his form soon. it'd been hours since he last saw you, and yet the texture of your scarred back embedded itself into his fingertips.

he threw the covers off and padded down the dark hallway when his attempts failed miserably. the tile beneath his feet was sure to keep him awake longer, but he wasn't opposed to pulling an all nighter at this stage.

the thin blanket draped over his shoulders that he secured with a loose fist offered little relief from the cold manor. his wings curled inwards to shield the lower half of his face, but sunday had a hunch that his lips had an odd undertone of blue. he descended the stairs and traced his gaze along the outlines of the miniature replica of the dreamscape.

the golden lights danced in his irises, and perhaps the illusion of hope might have fooled someone until he turned away from the diorama. he grunted as he knelt in front of the painting he had only been made aware of recently. he lazily tugged the sheet from the frame and let it pool atop his thighs. sunday chewed his lips as he fought to see you as you were depicted, but the graphic photos of your mutilated body seemingly ruined any prior impression of you.

he shifted to sit beside the portrait and he pulled the blanket closer, leaning his head against the canvas. he nuzzled into the material gently, and his eyelids shut.

soft music drifted through people's eardrums and sunk into their brain for safe keeping at 3 am. the dark carpet muffled the footsteps that trod along the floor and the clinking of glasses harmonised sporadically.

siobhan smiled softly at the animated gossip of the guests at the bar, and her hands crafted more varieties of liquid courage at their beck and call. her eyes caught a halovian lingering in the doorway, and she nodded in acknowledgement.

sunday hesitated, but stepped through the entrance to house himself on a suspiciously comfy bar stool. his golden gaze observed the glasses and liqueurs behind the bar, and his wings deflated slightly. his chin rested on his hand as he waited for a shift in the atmosphere, though it never came.

"looking for someone?" siobhan prompted as she polished silverware.

"ah... no, i don't believe so," he responded, offering a half-assed smile. "just looking for a drink."

"i got you covered," the woman said, concocting a pale blue beverage before his eyes, decorating the glass with a robin card. "wake and slumber for a mr. sunday."

"thank you."

his chapped lips touched the rim of the glass and the cold liquid trickled down his throat, soothing the tension in his jaw and mind.

"what happened? you look like you got hit by a train," siobhan asked, leaning against the counter lazily.

"just having trouble sleeping, nothing of major concern," sunday answered, staring into the reflection on the surface of the drink.

"[name] made that drink to help with night terrors. probably not the same thing as insomnia stuff, but maybe you'll find it helps," the bartender commented.

"perhaps. i shall see tonight." he took another sip of the drink, and despite the cold temperature, he noticed a newfound warmth that spread through his muscles.

"they aren't working today, they're spending time with the trailblazer." siobhan suppressed a grin when sunday's hand twitched at the mention of you in new company.

"i see."

"i had them train the trailblazer for a little bit and they seem to be quite friendly now. it's good, really. little [name] doesn't have many friends," she added, purposefully avoiding eye contact.

"no?"

the other halovian shook her head. "nah," she said casually, "they have their close friends and that's satisfying enough, i suppose."

sunday wet his lips in thought and he nodded silently, tracing the rim of the glass with his finger.

the textured glass windows of what you thought were ridiculously overpriced shops served as a nice background for your day trip with the trailblazer. both of your pockets were heavier than a couple hours prior, and a chilled bottle of soulglad occupied a hand as you walked through golden hour.

"you've certainly had an eventful few days," you said, sipping from the straw of your drink.

"yeah, ideally i wouldn't watch a new friend die in front of my eyes and dumpster diving won't get my ass beat," the trailblazer sighed.

"did you freak out when the billboards started following you?"

"i actually got them run over a couple times..." they rubbed the back of their head sheepishly, and you stifled your laughter at the situation.

"i've lived here all my life and never done that, maybe i should try it?"

"please don't," a smooth voice called from behind you. your head spun around and you blinked in surprise at sunday's sudden appearance.

"aw, it seems entertaining, though. not even just once?" you teased, swirling your drink in the bottle.

"it is funny to see," the trailblazer confirmed.

sunday offered a polite smile. "you probably shouldn't have told me that, but since you helped look for robin, i'm going to let it slide."

"how merciful," you muttered under your breath. "that aside, what's up with you? you look like shit."

"thanks for that riveting compliment," sunday said dryly. "siobhan effectively said the same."

"you been looking for me?" you arched an eyebrow and obnoxiously sipped your drink as you averted your gaze. "i don't live at the bar, y'know?"

"i have since been enlightened," he grumbled. "have you seen robin?"

you shook your head and turned to the trailblazer, who shrugged their shoulders at your silent question. "nope."

the blue-haired man stared at you expectantly, to which you returned the look. he waited a moment longer before frowning slightly. "is that all?"

"yep."

"is this a game about semantics again?"

"uh-huh."

he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "do you know where she might be later on?"

you grinned at his inquiry. "with me."

"what time?"

"in 10 minutes." you threw an arm around the trailblazer's shoulders and ruffled their hair playfully. "we were just finishing up."

"may i tag along?" sunday proposed, rubbing his nose bridge of fatigue.

you pretended to think for a moment, tapping your finger against your chin and squinting your eyes. "yeah, fine. i can't gatekeep your sister."

"thanks?"

you turned back to your new friend and released them from your hold. "alright, i'll see you around. nice catching up outside of work," you said, giving them a fist bump as they walked away.

"apologies if i cut your visit short," sunday mumbled as you led him away from the bustling crowds.

"i already said we were finishing up," you argued. he hummed at your statement and trailed behind you silently. the chatter slowly dissipated as you stopped at a secluded alleyway that was void of life aside from yourselves.

"you're not going to kill me, are you?" he joked, adjusting his gloves absentmindedly.

"no, but this will hurt," you said, looking around to ensure no one was watching.

"what-"

his eyes widened as a large purple monster loomed over your figure and stabbed a limb through your chest. a strangled grunt erupted from his throat as you disappeared into blue bubbles and leaving remnants of a slimy goo on the concrete. his heartrate quickened in his chest as the creature turned to him, and a fiery pain flowered from his lungs.

sunday's knees gave way and he clutched at his torso when he met the ground. his heaving halted as he saw your familiar shoes in front of him. he scrambled to stand and yanked you into his form when he spotted the monster again.

"get away from that thing," he hissed.

you scoffed and pushed away from him. "it's just sleepie, i'm fine," you protested. a gentle smile decorated your face and you reached to stroke what looked like a wing. "thanks for returning me home, you did very well," you cooed. 'sleepie' made a noise akin to a purr, nuzzling it's strangely shaped head into your chest.

"that thing has a name?" sunday grimaced at how close it was with you, but let you have your odd pet time.

"he's just confused right now, normally he doesn't go for people who don't live here. that's what happened with robin," you explained. when you released sleepie from your hold, he disappeared into a cloud of purple smoke, which then dissipated into thin air. "let's go, robin's waiting for me."

sunday's wings bristled as he watched you walk away, and he looked down at his chest, a shaky hand coming to rest over his heart in a failed attempt to calm himself. the pain continued to ebb in his ribs, but he followed your lead.

"is that how you get home every time?" he wondered.

"well, i'm sure there's another way, but it's just faster and more convenient," you said. "you doing ok? you're not used to that, so you probably hurt, huh?"

"i don't know how you're doing fine, to be frank," sunday admitted.

you shrugged as you broke into the clearing of rooftops and glanced around for the pop singer. "on the bright side, it made my death less painful than it would've been."

"oh..."

you looked over your shoulder with a microscopic smile. "don't be so down about that, it's been ages and you weren't even there for it."

"i should've been," sunday mumbled, averting his gaze to the ground.

"what's done is done, you can't change that." your focus returned to the rooftop and you reached behind you to tug at his sleeve. "found robin, you better cheer up before she interrogates you," you teased.

nostalgia had never felt so uncomfortable before. sunday felt stiff, even as he sunk into the plush couch in your living room that was filled with animated chatter between you and robin. he observed the bowl of food in his hands and though he felt compelled to eat what you had cooked, he couldn't help but take in your living space for a couple more minutes.

sunday doesn't often entertain feelings of guilt or jealousy, but as he ate in your company he failed to ignore the searing regret that burned in his stomach. simply being in your personal space told him more about you than he could ever ask, and he wished he could kick himself in the shins for missing out on important life events.

siobhan was right based on the lack of photo frames you had in your small apartment; you didn't have many friends. you barely had any sitting areas aside from the living room — you didn't even own a dining table — and simple group activities like board games were absent from your home.

you looked at the kitchen thoughtfully. "i'm not used to having to cook the day after already doing so," you noted, stabbing a carrot with your fork.

"what do you do usually?" robin asked, shooting sunday a mildly concerned glance.

"i only really cook for me, so i eat the same thing for a few days straight. leftovers go a long way."

"we'll drop by more often to keep you company," she suggested cheerily, and her angelic features lit up when you gave her an ok symbol.

as you finished your dinners, idle chatter filled the living room that would otherwise be silent. sunday's wings fluttered slightly at the sound of combined laughter, and occasionally his own would join the chorus. eventually, you rose from your spot on the floor that you insisted you sat and took the empty dishes to your sink.

"let me help you." sunday didn't realise it was he who spoke for a fleeting moment, but he took his place by your side and pulled his pristine gloves from his slender fingers.

"i'm surprised you know how to do chores," you spoke as you held your hand under the water waiting for the temperature to rise.

"i'm not that hopeless..." he defended, though the heat that usually accompanied his tone had now flickered away. "besides, it's the least i can do for what i did."

you hummed with dissatisfaction. "you need to let it go," you advised. "i'm not mad anymore, gopher manipulated the story."

"i still feel as if i have a lot of apologising to do," sunday replied, though his mind seemed elsewhere in that moment. you analysed him from the corner of your eyes, but decided not to press.

"just don't do something stupid like that again."

from behind you, robin watched fondly at the lack of bickering. she found herself content with fading into the background just this once, and maybe for a moment, she would pretend like nothing had changed.

TAGLIST: (if your name is in bold, i couldn't tag you in the post-)

@galagarts @junyueyin @no-hearts-included @caeruslumiere @abyssmal-skies @jellofishuu @axerrri @the-cottage-dragon @qwnelisa @velovicy @sweetistic @zuoran03 @jar-03 @ukiyo-ikigai @merviolet-asks @tamikahoshiko @b1loop @queenothegeeks @shadowypeachsweets @name-less-666 @bubblegupyy @evan-trand @nellqzz

[iphyelly]

Dominic held the shotgun. It was a Winchester, 12-gauge, with a scratched wooden finish. When he looked down at the man who slept very soundly, exhaling slowly and breathing in deep, he imagined that he must have used this shotgun to hunt deer on his property. Maybe scared off a few coyotes who dared to stalk too near the chicken coop. He must have felt like a real John Wayne hauling that thing around. He must have dried out the pelts and kept them out like a warning. Pay heed all who enter here.

“Wait,” Sylvia said from his side, keeping her voice low, “I want to do it.”

“No.” He said quickly, “It’ll kick you halfway across the room. I’ll do it.”

“So, do it, then.”

He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. He could feel his skin going all cold and clammy, his fingers twitching at the trigger. The man sleeping moved his head slightly, feigning to the side. Dominic didn’t want to shoot him. He didn’t even know him.

“Do it.” Sylvia’s hand curled up around his elbow, urging him on. Her fingers gripped his skin hard, nails making little crescent moons where they stuck him.

“Are you sure you want to watch?” He asked, a wave of nausea ran through him.

“Yes!” She said, suddenly half hysterical, shoving his arm where she held him, “Just get him!”

The man, Sylvia’s father, woke up.

thank u @macau1ay for drawing my beloved ocs so perfectly i love you forever🤍🤍🤍

[frnkiebby]

oh no~🎃

[beloveds-embrace]

(Poly 141 x medic reader, where you might as well be the sun to them)

The phrase started as a whisper.

It drifted through the base like smoke curling around corners, impossible to pin down but impossible to ignore.

“Here comes the sun.”

It bounced off walls, passing lips in hushed tones, slipping into conversations as a half-joke, half-omen. At first, the 141 didn’t pay it much attention. Soldiers had their quirks, their superstitions- rituals to keep them sane when missions dragged too long and they smelled more blood than earth. But this one stuck.

Price furrowed his brow the first time he heard it. Ghost only tilted his head slightly, filing it away. Gaz grimaced and muttered something about troops getting weird ideas. Soap, though- he took notice.

He’d caught it more than once before a mission, said like a prayer or maybe a warning. He’d asked around, but answers were vague. “You’ll know when you see it.” That’s all they’d tell him. It irritated him to no end.

Then the mission happened.

It was supposed to be a clean extraction. A quick in-and-out, but things went sideways fast. Soap had been covering the team’s six when the ambush hit. A sharp crack split the air, followed by the searing pain in his side. He hit the ground hard, blood soaking into the dirt, a familiar, burning ache travelling through his body.

“Soap’s hit!” Gaz’s voice barked through comms, panic threading through the static.

“Pull him out!” Price ordered.

But the line fizzled and died. Soap’s world narrowed- gunfire, shouts, and the taste of copper in his mouth. He couldn’t hear the others anymore. The ground felt colder than it should have. He pressed his hand against the wound, but it was bad. Really bad.

This is it, he thought. This is where I die.

The edges of his vision blurred. He barely noticed the figure sprinting toward him until a flash of bright red and orange, a blazing fire, pierced through the smoke and haze.

Like the sun.

You hit the ground beside him, all motion and precision, your gear unlike anything he’d ever seen. Bright red and orange covered your tactical vest and helmet- colors that didn’t belong in a war zone. Colors that should’ve made you a target, a dead woman walking.

But instead, you looked like salvation.

“Stay with me, Sargeant.” You said, voice sharp and steady. You weren’t panicked- not even a little. It was comforting.

Soap stared, wide-eyed, as your hands worked quickly to stop the bleeding. He should’ve been paying attention to the pain, to the gunfire, to anything else- but he couldn’t stop looking at you.

“What the hell are ya wearing?” he rasped, because that was apparently the only thought his brain could form.

You didn’t look up. “Bright colors make it easier to spot me. Medics don’t have the luxury of hiding- we have to be seen when it counts.”

“It’s bloody ridiculous.” he muttered- and then sucked in a sharp breath as you tightened the bandage.

“Maybe,” you said, finally glancing at him. “But it got me here, didn’t it?”

Soap’s heart stumbled. Your eyes were sharp, focused- but there was something else there too, something warm. Something steady.

Here comes the sun.

It hit him all at once. That’s what the others meant. It wasn’t just the colors. It was you. The way you moved, the way your voice cut through the noise, the way you didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Stay awake, Sargeant.” You ordered, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t have a single smart remark.

Much later, he woke up in the med tent, groggy but alive, and immediately found himself staring at you again.

You were restocking supplies nearby, your bright gear an almost comical contrast to the sterile white walls. The moment you noticed him looking, you crossed the room.

“You’re awake,” you said, checking his vitals. Your voice was softer now, calm and patient. He felt like he could melt. “Good.”

“You’re real.” He blurted out before he could stop himself.

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head. “What?”

“Thought I was hallucinating.” He gestured vaguely at your vest, a grin cracking on his lips. “I mean, look at ya.” Lovely. The sun has never looked better.

Your lips twitched, like you were holding back a smile. “I get that a lot.”

Before he could come up with anything else to say- anything remotely smooth- the tent flap opened.

Price, Ghost, and Gaz stepped in, their eyes immediately landing on you. And for once, Soap wasn’t the only one caught off guard.

Gaz blinked. “You’re… bright.”

“Easy to spot.” You said, beaming.

Ghost stared at you for a few seconds longer, peering, before he spoke. “…You’re the sun.”

Price studied you for a long moment as well, then nodded like something clicked into place with a sigh. “Makes sense.”

You, on the other hand, looked confused and unsure, tilting your head once more in the way kittens do.

Soap couldn’t stop staring. He barely even heard the others talking, answering your confusion. All he could think about was how you’d shown up when he thought he was done for- and how you’d looked like a fiery star in the vast expanse of a cold, dark sky.

You glanced at him again, eyes sharp and warm all at once, lips quirking in a delicate smile while Gaz talked with you.

Here comes the sun, he thought.

(… would it be possible to cradle the sun, such warmth, in his hands?)

Part Two

[loafysainz]

DONT GO DADDY | LN 4

lando norris!dad x reader!mom

no warn

hope you guys enjoy it!!

Lando had two more days at home before he had to leave for the next race weekend. Two days before he’d have to pack his bags, say goodbye, and be away for who-knows-how-long.

The thing is—his kids didn’t even know that yet.

Noah and Leo, his little shadows, had been extra clingy lately. Usually, Leo was glued to their mom, a total mama’s boy, while Noah was more independent. But this past week? The two of them were stuck to Lando like glue. If he so much as stepped out of the room, one (or both) would come running, calling out for him like he was about to disappear forever.

Like right now.

Lando was just sorting through some stuff in the living room when he suddenly felt two tiny pairs of arms wrap around his legs. He glanced down, finding Noah and Leo latched onto him, looking up with teary eyes.

“What’s up, little dudes?” he teased, ruffling Noah’s curls while patting Leo’s head. “Why are you guys crying, huh?”

Noah sniffled. “Daddy… hug.”

Leo nodded aggressively, arms still wrapped tight around Lando’s leg. “Want hug, Daddy.”

Lando crouched down, opening his arms. “Ohhh, you want me to hug you? Come here then.”

And just like that, his two little monsters launched themselves into his chest, squeezing him like their lives depended on it. Lando chuckled, lifting them both up in his arms.

“What’s gotten into you two, huh? You’ve been extra cuddly this week.”

Noah pouted, gripping Lando’s hoodie. “Don’t go.”

Lando blinked. “Go where?”

Leo’s lips wobbled. “Work.”

Noah, never one to be left out, “Yeah! We miss you when you go!”

Ah. They didn’t know he was leaving in two days, but somehow, they felt it.

And just like that, Lando’s heart completely melted. He sighed, rubbing their backs as they both continued to sniffle into his hoodie.

“Daddy’s right here, baby,” he murmured, rocking them gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But later you go work again.” Noah mumbled, his little fingers fisting Lando’s hoodies like he was scared he’d disappear right then and there.

Lando exhaled, tilting his head back for a second before pressing a kiss to both their foreheads. “You know why Daddy goes to work, right?”

They both shook their heads, big eyes still filled with tears.

“I go so I can make money,” he explained gently. “And you know what money gets us?”

Noah thought about it for a second. “Ice cream?”

Lando chuckled. “Yes, and toys. And our house. And everything we need. If I don’t go, then we don’t get those things.”

Leo sniffled. “But I just want you.”

Lando swore his heart physically hurt. He pulled them both in even tighter. “I know, buddy. And I want to be here too. But I promise, I’ll always come back. And when I do, we’ll have fun as much as you want, okay?”

After a few more minutes of calming them down, their little bodies finally relaxed against him. The house was quiet except for their soft breathing, and Lando realized they had completely passed out on him—Leo using his arm as a pillow, and Noah curled up into his side.

That was exactly how his wife—y/n found them when she walked in.

She paused in the doorway, eyes widening at the rare moment of silence. Usually, their house was a warzone of giggles and chaos, but right now? It was peaceful. Too peaceful.

She tiptoed closer, peeking into the family room, and immediately felt her heart melt. There they were—her three favorite people, all tangled up on the couch, fast asleep.

Lando had one arm draped protectively over both boys, his head resting against the back of the couch. Noah was tucked under his chin, while Leo had somehow managed to shove himself into Lando’s side, one tiny hand gripping his hoodie even in sleep.

She smiled to herself, shaking her head fondly.

Yeah. She was definitely taking a picture of this.

[loveindefinitely]

task force 141 with a controversially young civilian girlfriend.

-> mentions of large age-gaps, referenced sexual content, alcohol use. afab!fem!reader. minor dubcon (everyone's drunk.)

thinking that you're studying in uni. working on the side to try and afford rent and, if you're lucky, some noodles every other night. you don't really get seen compared to your friends, who go out clubbing and spend their spare time on dating apps.

one time, your friend drags you to a bar. not usually your scene, considering its clientele is more for tradies, and military-type men. not like the stuck-up blue collar boys at your uni.

cue you getting drunk off your ass, barely even standing, when you bump into one johhny mactavish.

he holds your elbows, your chest crashing into his. gentle with it, too -- kind and sweet and grounding.

"y'alright, lass?" he asks, a small smirk on his face, eyes darting across your frame greedily. he, in all fairness, looks nearly as drunk as you. he stumbles a little with your weight.

you giggle, tilting your head to look at him. say something stupid like, "you don't look like a student."

his brows raise, his dimples deepen. "aye, very smart, hen."

you preen with the compliment, a cheesy grin stuck to your face. you make no move to stand up and leave. you think your friend just left with a guy anyways.

johnny moves you, muscled arm around your waist as he takes you to a booth.

three other men sit in it, only one looking somewhere in a ten-year age bracket to you. they're all impossibly large, filling out the space with ease. your stomach swoops, but you easily blame the alcohol.

manoeuvring you so you sit in his lap, johnny's hand is a comforting weight on your waist. he huffs a laugh.

"didn't realise we were goin' for jailbait, soap," the youngest one chimes, dark features shining in the pub's dim light. his eyes trail your frame silkily.

you can't stop the roll of your eyes -- your inhibitions have made you senseless. "'m not, 'm completely," you drag out the syllables, "legal."

a hand on your thigh makes you jolt, and when you look over, a blonde man with a black medical mask raises an unimpressed brow. "got a problem, kid?"

you shoot him a weak glare. "not a kid. weirdo."

the arm around your waist tightens, as does the weirdo's hand encompassing your thigh.

"not scared of anythin', are you darl'?" the final man in the booth asks, hands folded together where they rest at the table. he looks at least double your age, and that simple fact along with his drawling words has your core tightening.

"what's there to be scared of?" you ask, stupidly. your head tilts to the side, unknowingly moving to rest on johnny's shoulder. he doesn't comment.

"miss bein' young and drunk," gaz sighs, hand softly gripping the gin sat on the table in front of him.

"you look young," your brows furrow, not understanding. how old could he really be, to act so nostalgic of your current predicament? "how old are you guys?"

it's an embarrassing question -- makes you feel like a child all over again. but your interest is quickly peaking, and your need for answers overpowers your need for decorum.

johnny's the one to answer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers.

"gaz, the pretty one over there, he's twenty-eight," he murmurs, heat stirring low in your gut as you nod mindlessly, meeting gaz's eyes.

johnny stokes his thumb over the skin of your hip, and you curl into him further -- stranger be damned.

"i'm thirty," he hums, and god, he sounds so fucking sensual you're about to melt into his arms. if you aren't already.

"the guy in the mask?" said man's hand tightens impossibly against your skin, fingers just shy of grazing your aching pussy, "he's thirty-seven. got a lot of experience, aye?"

you shudder.

"what about you?" you end up voicing, shyly meeting the last man's gaze. he takes a slow sip of his whiskey.

he leans back into the cushion, eyeing you carefully.

"forty-three."

your thighs squeeze together, and fuck, if that's not a turn-on. no matter how unsafe you should feel, surrounded by four military-grade, older men, it only manages to have you wet beyond belief.

all you can manage is one question.

"take me home?"

[cybersunnie]

staying in my play pretend

Your relationship with RAFE CAMERON is complicated.

includes 18+ MDNI / fem!pogue!reader / car sex / unprotected sex (wrap it up!) / cowgirl aka reader does all the work / angst / implied unrequited feelings / reader gets gaslighted / petnames ("baby") / inspired by normal people / wc 1.3k

When the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky littered with stars, Rafe would text you.

That was the only time he ever did. Not because he wanted to talk but because he needed something from you.

You weren’t sure when it started. This back-and-forth. Push-and-pull. Strangers through the day but meeting in secret when night fell. You knew why it started, though. You weren’t stupid. Rafe was a Kook, and you were a Pogue. He was embarrassed to be seen with someone born and raised on the Cut, and you didn’t want to be associated with him.

But nothing could replicate the warmth that curled up your ribs and kissed your face whenever you stuck your head out your bedroom window and saw his parked truck waiting for you. So, you allowed it to happen. 

And somehow, along the way, you convinced yourself that you were okay with it. People hooked up with other people all the time. It was normal. That was easier to accept than acknowledge the possibility that it meant nothing to him—that you meant nothing to him. 

Rafe cared. He had to. If he didn’t, what were the two of you doing now in the backseat of his car?

The air in his truck grew thick and sticky, and the windows fogged. Clothes barely thrown off, skin sheen with sweat, your panties slid to the side. 

Your thighs burned as you moved over his lap, but the moans Rafe let out told you to keep going. Don’t stop. His large hands grabbed your ass, shamelessly squeezing the fat there and helping you fuck yourself on his cock. The knot in your stomach tightened, and your head fell back, eyes heavy and fingers digging into his shoulders. It was a little sloppy like always, movements fast and uncoordinated, but neither of you seemed to mind. 

One of Rafe’s hands lifted to the nape of your neck. “C’mon, wanna see you,” he mumbled, and you felt him lean in and peck your jaw. You shivered. “Fuckin’ look at me, look—there you go, baby.”

You rested your forehead against his. His blue eyes looked dark, pupils dilated and full of want. 

“You love this dick, huh?” You managed a nod. “Yeah, you do. Can feel you squeezin’ me and shit. Fuck, your pussy’s perfect.”

Rafe's words fueled you. Your desperation was hard to miss; your whines and gasps wrapped into one breath. Whatever exhaustion you felt disappeared and was replaced with a sense of urgency. You picked up the pace, moving as if you had something to prove. Maybe you did.

The man beneath you groaned. His hand fell back down to your ass, the light slap making you jolt, and he soothed the sting with a greedy knead. Rafe’s head lulled against the headrest, drunk on your eagerness and warmth. As you rode him, he took advantage to touch you everywhere he could. He pushed your shirt up and tugged at your bra until your breasts spilled out. You felt his cock twitch. You heard him whisper your name. 

“Shit, you’re so sexy,” he murmured, his gaze flickering between your face and your tits. “Y’gonna make me cum, baby.”

Your heart raced. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Rafe let your shirt fall. He then leaned in and closed the gap, his lips slanted over yours, his tongue darting into your mouth. But he parted all too soon to say, “Want you to cum with me, ‘kay?” 

Your stomach flipped. “Okay.”

And as you continued to move up and down, the sounds wet and obscene, you inched closer and closer to the inevitable. You knew he was close, too, from how he peppered open-mouthed kisses on your jaw and moaned something fierce into your neck. He grasped your hips, almost bruising, and he slammed you down harder on his cock, his hips flexing up, nudging that spot that had you seeing stars. Your mouth dropped open, and you gasped.

Rafe sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “That’s the spot, huh? Right there?”

You whined a string of yeses, your voice high. It was as if he had control of your body, moving you up and down like you were nothing but a fleshlight.

“Fuck, yeah, baby. Give it to me,” he coaxed, his grip on your hips tightening as he pulled you down again.

The knot snapped. You cried out.

Hot white pleasure erupted from the pit of your belly, shooting through your limbs and making your body tense. Your fingers slotted through his hair, and you held him to you as if he was the only thing grounding you to the earth. Rafe wasn’t far behind, unable to resist the way your cunt pulsated around him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his hips jerking while he emptied himself inside of you, whimpering like he was wounded. 

With your sweaty bodies pressed close, the intensity faded, heavy breaths filling the air. Neither of you moved—an unspoken decision to stay connected just a little longer. 

You felt one of his hands creep beneath your shirt, following the path up your spine, his touch light. If Rafe didn’t care, why did his hands feel like confessions?

“Rafe.” 

He hummed against your neck, placing one last kiss before pulling away. You stared down at him, your hands leaving his hair to hold his face, your thumbs brushing his flushed cheeks. He felt warm under your fingertips.

“Do you like me?” You didn’t know what compelled you to ask.

A frown tugged on his features, his brows pinched together. His eyes darted across your face because maybe if he looked hard enough, he would give you the answer you wanted. But then he glanced down, and the corners of his lips quirked up. He chuckled.

Nervous, you chuckled, too. “What?” 

“I’m literally inside you.”

Was that his answer? 

You gave a sheepish smile, and your gaze traced the slope of his nose and the curve of his mouth. You tried again, “C’mon, do you?”

Rafe gave your hip a light squeeze. It didn’t feel comforting. It felt like a warning. Stop pushing. “Does it matter?” 

Yes, it mattered. It mattered to you. “I guess not,” you resigned, your hands dropping from his face as you went to fix your shirt.

“Hey.” He grabbed your chin, and you had no choice but to look at him. His eyes looked softer than usual, and his mouth opened then closed. “You’re the only one I’m seeing, you hear me?”

Could you believe him? Trust him? Your heart so desperately wanted to, but your mind told you otherwise. He was Rafe Cameron—anything he said could be a lie. Again and again, you had gone through that in your head, hoping it would finally stick.

But you were weak. “I hear you.”

“Good.” Rafe nodded, his hand slipping down to the side of your neck. He still had you wrapped around his finger. “So, you don’t gotta get all sappy or whatever, alright?”

You nodded, feeling defeated.

What confused you further was how he leaned in to kiss you soon after. It was gentle, almost sweet. This was what you craved, what you starved yourself for. Then the doubt crept in again. If he were trying to express the unspoken through it, you wouldn’t know. You never did when it came to him. And for your sake, you pulled away, your eyes remaining shut, unable to look at him.

“We should, uh, clean up, yeah?” Rafe sighed. He ran his hands down your thighs, giving them a light pat. “Gotta get you home.”

You ignored how your stomach churned. “Yeah.”

But this wasn’t the end. You knew there would be another time. And, like every other night, you would wait for Rafe’s text to light up your phone.

sunnie speaks! hey i hope you guys enjoyed reading :D i honestly struggled writing this for some reason?? so lmk what you guys think!!! also the title is a lyric from habits (stay high) by tove lo let's chat about rafe cameron!

if you like my work, consider following @sunniefics to stay up to date on all my future fics!

[nanaslutt]

Thinking about inexperienced Choso accidentally doing the knee thing during a makeout sesh

ʚ cont: afab reader, making out, dry humping, sexual tension, dirty talk, teasing, first time orgasming (Choso), cumming untouched, cumming in pants (Choso and reader)

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

You lay back against Choso's hard chest, his head on your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your torso as you lay on your bed together, catching up on some show the two of you have been watching. After watching about 4 or 5 consecutive episodes, the familiar "Are you still watching?" question showed on the screen, making you sigh.

"Whoever created this idea sucks, of course I'm still watching." You mumbled under your breath, beginning to lean your body off of Choso's to reach for the remote. Little did you know, Choso had been aching to kiss you all day. He knew the two of you usually ended up sharing kisses when you were alone like this, and each time it happened only increased his neediness for the next time you were together as he began to expect it as he did now.

Choso kept his arms tightly wrapped around your torso, preventing you from leaning forward. You were jolted back against his chest, your eyes going wide when you realized you were stuck. A smile grew on your face when Choso plopped his forehead down on your shoulder, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he blushed furiously, hoping you would catch on to what he wanted so he didn't have to say it.

You turned your head to face him and cupped his neck with your warm hand, pressing his face against you. "Cho, how am I meant to move when you hold onto me so tightly, huh?" You teased, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. Choso's eyebrows furrowed against your skin when he felt the familiar touch of your lips on him. He tentatively raised his head and looked into your eyes, his cheeks already a deep crimson red, eyebrows furrowed in a desperate look.

You kept your hand on his warm neck, feeling his pulse race under your fingertips. You smiled and licked your lips, staring back and forth between his eyes. Choso's breath was already picking up as the tension began to grow between the two of you. Choso swallowed hard as he looked between your eyes and your plush lips, looking like they were begging to be kissed. 

You leaned in ever so slightly, lips grazing against his, your body feeling hot when his arms tightened around your body as you did so. "Tell me what you want Choso." You whispered, your hot breath tickling his lips. Choso's lips were parted slightly expectantly, his breathing now more audible. "I wanna kiss." He replied, his fingers curling into your shirt that covered your stomach. 

You bit your lip, your nose tapping against his as you continued to tease him. "Yeah? You wanna kiss me?" You whispered, turning your head to the side as you readied yourself. Choso's eyes fluttered softly as he nodded, his eyelids already feeling heavy even without touching you. Choso let out a noise of surprise when you pressed your lips against his. His thighs twitched ever so slightly with the need to press his legs together, but you were between them, so he couldn't.

Choso felt his brain turn to mush as you massaged your lips against his, soft barely there sounds getting caught in your throat making him go crazy. Choso never broke the connection even when he released your body in his arms and slowly slid out from behind you, maneuvering your body so you were against the pillows he was just laying against. They were warm with his body heat, feeling welcoming as Choso placed himself between your thighs, on top of you.

Your chest rose and fell heavily as he dragged his large hands up and down your body, your shirt riding up as he played with your sides, touching you everywhere he could. Choso loved kissing, the sensation of his lips intertwining against yours combined with the feel of your body and the sounds you made when you kissed him took over his brain completely, trampling over and pushing out any and all other thoughts.

You wrapped your legs around his waist instinctually, making Choso whine at how good your body felt against him. His hands itched with the need to touch you higher up each time he caressed your torso. Your chest rose and fell heavily against him, your back slightly arching off the bed each time he overpowered his tongue with yours, making you feel dizzy.

Choso was a bit shy when it came to intimate activities, up until he was actively participating in them, then his instincts took over and he became more confident. You and Choso had been dating for a few months and had never gone past heavy petting and kissing, but you would be lying if you said your body didnt ache to go further with him.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and slowly slid them around to his back, grabbing the nape of his neck with one hand while your other disappeared under the collar of the back of his shirt. Choso's eyes rolled back in his sockets at the touch, even though his eyes were closed. He felt that same familiar ache build itself up deep in his stomach, and the position he was in was giving him no relief.

His pelvis was close to being pressed against yours, but it wasn't, leaving his unknowingly throbbing cock to twitch against the confines of his boxers with little to no friction. You lightly raked your nails over the skin of his back, feeling his hard muscles under your hands as the kiss increased in fervor, getting more intense. 

Choso took it upon himself to adjust his position a bit, sliding one of his legs to the side a bit so his pelvis was against the bed and the underside of your thigh. You smiled against Choso's lips, feeling how needy his tongue was getting against yours. You were caught off guard when you felt a strong thigh press firmly against your cunt, making your lips separate from his in an embarrassingly loud whine. 

Choso stopped kissing you to look at your expression, worried he might've hurt you. With furrowed eyebrows and a fucked out expression, you reached both hands between your bodies and pressed them agaisnt his thigh, trying to ignore how hard you were throbbing against his leg. "I'm sorry, are you okay?" Choso gasped, not yet realizing what had happened. 

"Choso, your knee." You whined out breathlessly, pressing against his thigh again, silently begging for him to let up before you lost control. You were already holding back enough. Choso's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked between your bodies to see his thigh tightly against your cunt, and your hands pressing above where you were connected. 

Choso immediately pulled his leg back and apologized, slotting his leg back to its original position. You saw the muscles in his jaw bulge out under the weight of his teeth as he looked away in embarrassment, worried he had ruined the mood. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.. touch you there." Choso apologized, darting his eyes back over to yours every so often.

You wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him against your shoulder, forcing his head to be buried in the crook of your neck. This abrupt action surprised Choso, he placed his hands on your hips and waited for you to speak, focusing on how loud your heart was beating against him. "No, it's okay. It.. it felt good." You whispered, turning your head against his ear, your lips grazing his skin.

Choso felt that same familiar heat build-up in his tummy again at your confession, it was getting unbearable. This is usually where the two of you stopped when he felt a little too worked up for his own good. But this time, he didn't want to stop, he wanted to see where this would go. "It felt... good?" He questioned, staring at the bedsheets in front of him as he lay on your shoulder.

You nodded, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear that sent a shiver down his spine. "You can put it back if you want." You suggested, making Choso shut his eyes and take a deep breath. He didn't know much about pleasuring others or even himself, but he knew the type of "good" you were talking about was much like the one he felt when he pressed his crotch against the sheets, or your leg when you kissed.

Choso pulled his head up from your shoulder and brought his face agaisnt yours, a hair length away from your lips. You grabbed his face and looked into his eyes for a moment before you pulled him against you by his cheeks, forcing your lips together in a kiss. The kiss was just as needy and hasty as before as the two of you opened your mouth against one another in a sloppy makeout. 

Choso swallowed hard before he started moving his leg again, trying to remember the position he had it in. When you felt his thick thigh press against your throbbing clit again, you gasped into his mouth, a sound he eagerly swallowed up, his face growing redder at the sound.

You felt dizzy as your back arched against him, your hands once again wrapping around his neck for support. You squeezed your legs around his thigh and relished in the feeling of your clit getting stimulated from the pressure alone. Choso could feel he felt something twitch against his leg, but he had no idea what it could be, all he knew was that it made his own problem feel ten times worse.

Choso started kissing you more intensely, his own cock being stimulated against the sheet and the underside of your leg once more. You whimpered into his mouth, your hips twitching agaisnt him, ever so slightly rubbing your cunt against his leg. "This feels really good." Choso gasped into your mouth, feeling the heat in his tummy boil up within him.

You nodded, making a sound of agreement into his mouth. You felt like you were seconds away from cumming, you couldn't believe how aroused you were. Your whole body burned with pleasure and arousal as you sloppily kissed into Choso's mouth, the kiss being more tongue and teeth than anything.

You felt that familiar pressure build up in your abdomen, making your thighs twitch and your body curl against him. Choso increases the pace of his kissing, his lips now moving jerkily and unceremoniously against your thigh. "Choso-" You whined against his lips, both of you now panting and whining into the other's mouth. Choso felt like something was going to happen, and he didn't want to stop, he needed to feel whatever this was leading to.

His fingers dug into your hips as his lips started parting against yours, as did your own against his. Both of your moans and pants grew silent as you gasped against the other's mouth. It was only still for a moment before the two of you came crashing down. Your body shook with pleasure as you came in your panties, your abdomen curling in against Choso and twitching as you orgasmed on his thigh.

Choso's head fell into the crook of your neck as he came, hot spurts of cum being released into his pants. With each rope of cum he released, his hips would cant involuntarily against your own. Choso groaned and gasped against you, his head going numb as sheer, white pleasure wracked through his entire body and overwhelmed all of his senses. 

The two of you gasped and whined heavily as you came down from your highs, fighting to catch your breath and recover. Your bodies were limp against each other, but you still held each other tight, not wanting to separate just yet. "That felt so... so good," Choso whined into your neck, a shiver wracking down his spine. You nodded against his shoulder, raking your hands through his messy hair. "Uh-huh...so good." You replied, equally as fucked out as you nodded dumbly, breathing heavily with Choso's full weight resting against your body.

[st7rnioioss]

bambi!reader x matt sturniolo

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... smut, p in v, size kink, big dick!matt, kissing, mentions of oral (f receiving), praising, taunting, breeding kink lowkey?

matt’s hands were all over your body, skimming under the hem of your tank top as you sat in his lap, your own hands tangled into his brown locks, toying and tugging on it. you’d been making out for god knows how long by now, grinding down onto the rough material of matt’s jeans, your thighs and legs starting to give out from stretching out on either side of his.

you pulled back slowly with a quiet pop, your lips wet with saliva that you had no clue whether was your own or matt’s - but you didn’t care nonetheless. “matt… it hurts..” you whispered, looking up at him with a soft pout as you batted your eyes at him, your fingers losing their grip on his hair.

matt, just as aroused as you were, looked back down at you, a teasing smirk tugging on his glistening lips, before pulling you back in for a heated kiss, his hands on the back of your head. “mmm, i know, baby..” his voice was muffled against your lips, his eyes fluttered shut. “you just let me take care of that, a’ight?” his voice sounded when he pulled back again, smiling softly when you nodded with a flustered expression on your pathetically cute face.

“good girl,”

your hips were met by matt’s hand as you threw your head back against the soft pillow behind your head, feeling matt’s tip nudge at your entrance. “m-matt..” you whimpered weakly, your fingers on the back of his head tightening on his hair, curling your fingers into a fist.

you felt so stuffed, going completely dumb on his cock as he slowly eased his cock into your sopping pussy, his movements haltering for a moment as he leaned down to whisper, his lips grazing your ear. “such a pillow princess, huh? fuckin’ pathetic. not a thought in there…” you let out a humiliating loud moan, your lips stuck in the parted position they were in, your eyes barely open as you met his gaze. your mind was all cloudy and hazy, whining when he pushed further, feeling him fit himself inside of you.

his words were mean, but his tone was laced with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. but it made you crave more of them. “i fucking love it, though..” he then choked out with a soft moan, his hand next to your head balling the sheets into his fist as he tried his best to hold back from pounding into you. but it was almost becoming impossible from the way you looked up at him, and from the pretty noises, you let slip past your puffy lips, just from him easing his way inside of your tight cunt.

after a moment or two, you give him a gentle nod, and immediately he slowly pulled back out, before thrusting his throbbing cock back inside of you, making a breathy moan slip from both of your parted lips.

“matt, please -“ you had no clue how he ever reached this far, bruising your cervix with every thrust that met your pelvis, the stretch from his cock almost unbearable “- slow… slow down a little!” he huffed out a chuckle, his ego definitely stroked as he watched you struggle.

“come on, baby.. you’ve taken it before, you can take it again,” he patronized you, intently watching the part where your bodies connected, his hand on your waist moving down to lay flat across your lower tummy, pushing down on the bulge forming. you whined, your skin flushed and a tiny layer of sweat started to bead your skin.

“you’re so fucking pretty.. i love watching you get all hot and bothered on my cock,”

you let out a moan at his words, feeling his hand creep further up your stomach, his fingertips meeting your tit, cupping it as he continued his careful thrusts.

the sound of skin slapping against skin slowly echoed louder and louder throughout the room, the both of your moans and praises being mumbled out through sloppy kisses, tongues entangled. one of matt’s hands was kneading your tits, hovering over you on his other elbow, your fingers easily finding their way to his hair, tugging and twirling it.

before you know it, you feel his fingers trail down your stomach, working slow and deliberate circles on your bud. you break the kiss, letting out a weak moan from his touch.

“yeah, baby? y’feel nice?” he questions, his hips picking up their pace, matching the pace of his fingers. you let out a breathless moan, looking up at him through hooded eyes with a slow nod. he already knew the answer through, from the way you squeezed and clenched around his cock. “y-yes.. so good, matt.”

a groan slipped from his lips when he tried his best to hold back, wanting you to cum before he did. he was taking care of you after all. and almost as if rehearsed, your whiny voice sounded from beneath him.

“p-please make me cum, matt, please!” you were practically already, from the way your fucked-out voice went higher in pitch and how your pussy tightened like a vice around him. he loved seeing you like this, so desperate and needy, completely at his mercy.

he leaned down, his bruised lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss, in contrast to his harsh thrusts, before whispering “let go, pretty. wanna feel you cum f’me..” his lips grazed your ear, before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

you let out a needy moan when you met his eyes, feeling his fat tip nudge at your sensitive spot as you immediately fell apart beneath him, your moans like music to matt’s ears. “fuck! matt, holy shit-“ you babbled, your words slurring together as his thrusts stuttered.

he couldn’t even keep eye contact anymore, the sigh alone making his cock twitch, spilling his warm cum inside of you, making you whine and squirm. he buried his face into your neck, both of you breathless and panting.

matt fucked his seed further into you with slow thrusts, before the both of you tapped out, exhausted and spent. he left careful kisses down your neck, up the side of your face.

“i love you so much, princess..” he muttered between kisses, a smile tugging on his lips. you let out a breathless chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. “i love you more, matty…” you whispered before you slipped your bottom lip between your teeth.

matt leaned back from you, looking down where a mixture of your both releases seeped out of you, forming a ring around his thickness.

“shit, would you look at that..” matt slowly slipped out of your sweet pussy, electing a soft whine from your lips. he leaned down to be face to face with your dripping cunt, pressing a soft kiss to your bud, now buried between your spent and aching thighs.

“matt-” you hissed, running a hand through his hair, attempting to gently push him off. “i know, i know.. m’sorry….” he mumbled against your wetness, before pulling back, meeting your gentle eyes.

“you’re just so pretty..” he muttered with pleading eyes, before diving right back in, throwing your thighs over his shoulders.

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