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[warmsol]

✿ elia lune stuns in look-book ✿

[iamthatonefangirl]

Hii, I wanted to ask for some "boys being boys" kind of one-shot. The setting is: Sam, Tony, Bucky and Bruce were arguing about how they could make the Winter Soldier some safety protocol for Bucky's gf since she's also a fighter and go with them in the missions (All of this happening while they were drunk, so OF COURSE IT DOESN'T SEEM LIKE A BAD IDEA.) Bucky also doesn't know that the WS knows gf and is already very protective of gf, so when Steve and Reader (who is Bucky's gf and some kind of Steve's little sis) appear, things get a little… weird with WS being a possessive bf.

(Can I be annon ✨🐍/sparkilin snake?)

~✨🐍

bad luck - nsfw bucky barnes/winter soldier

word count: 1.9k disclaimer: mentions of homicide, bucky turns into the winter soldier obviously, fully consensual smut by both parties although not explicitly stated. *please note: this is NOT correlated with my pre-existing winter soldier series. a/n: hey anon I love the emoji combo omg. I went a slightly different direction from your ask but this is my interpretation of it :)

part 2 - part 3

~~~

you'd only seen the winter soldier emerge twice, so far.

one time in a hydra base on a mission.

a second time in an ambush he wasn't prepared for.

~~~

you were with him the first time it happened.

in the case anything had gone wrong and somehow it happened, you'd been briefed ahead of time to make a run for it, not to engage the soldier. they would be able to find Bucky later and subdue him.

Bucky gave you a different set of instructions.

if somehow he turned, he instructed you to shoot him on sight. don't hesitate, don't wait. do what you had to in order to stay alive.

"goddamnit, Bucky, I'm not going to fucking kill you," you hissed at him, wishing you could just smack him upside the head. "there's a million other options before that."

"listen to me," he pled with you, "if it comes down to it, you shoot me. you do not hesitate. do you understand me?"

you were appalled.

"I'm not going to-"

"no," he interrupted you, voice stern. "either you promise me you'll do this, or I'm telling Steve to send someone else with me."

you almost felt like crying.

you thought about it. you thought about saying hell no, have him send someone else.

but you didn't trust anyone else to not shoot him if it came down to it.

so you lied.

"I'll kill you if I have to."

~~~

you didn't think it would actually happen. no way in hell.

you were roaming the base, trying to find the information you'd been sent for. you separated from Bucky in the attempts of getting in and out quicker.

after a few minutes, you heard a stark cry of your name from the distance, and your heart fell to your stomach.

you ran as fast as you can, hoping to stop it, do anything at all-

you run up to him, grabbing his arms and shaking him.

"Bucky? goddamnit, Bucky, look at me!" you yell at him.

you're met with those cold, dead eyes that you were told meant run for your goddamn life.

you're too late.

so you began to back up, following the orders you'd been given, trying to run. they could save Bucky, they could, but you had to get the hell out of there. you started to back away, ready to turn and bolt.

it was just your luck that you tripped and fell flat on your ass, all while the soldier was stalking towards you ominously.

you didn't have time to get up.

so you unholstered your gun, pointing it at him, tears coming to your eyes. you held it shakily, trying to make the split second decision,

what do I do? what do I do?

this was not supposed to fucking happen. you weren't about to kill the love of your life.

you were met with the greatest surprise of your life when he didn't rip your arm off, or reach out to choke you to death with his bare hands, or anything of the like.

he grabbed the gun from your hand with ease, and threw it to the side, then reaching for your hand and hauling you to your feet.

you stood there, face to face with him, wondering what the hell was going on. why didn't he immediately attack you?

the sound of gunshots filled the room. someone knew you were there, whoever was left of hydra, surely operating under the assumption that the soldier would kill you and then they could take back their precious asset.

you scrambled for your gun, but he picked it up first, pushing you behind him while he easily decimated the agents running at you.

you were stunned. Bucky never killed anyone, he wouldn't do it. but you had just watched him, not him, kill a dozen people without a second thought.

you prepared for him to turn around and shoot you, but he didn't. he looked you up and down for injuries, saw none, and his face relaxed.

you scrambled for what to do next. "the team, they'll come running at the sound of gunshots. you have to go, they can't know you're..."

you trailed off. your thoughts were a mess.

"I have to go."

he let you make a run for the exit.

~~~

obviously, you lied.

you told everyone that you never saw him. all you saw was the mess of dead, bloodied bodies, and no Bucky. which pointed to the obvious: he turned.

no way in hell were you going to admit anything.

a few sleepless nights passed without Bucky by your side, and with each passing day, you worried more and more that you'd never get him back. that by lying, you'd somehow messed up, and that it was somehow your fault you'd never see him again.

when your apartment window opened in the middle of the night a few days after the incident, you grabbed your gun and watched as the dark figure made its way into your apartment.

Bucky, finally.

"fuck, oh my god, you're okay," you say, running towards him, putting down the gun. you bring your hands to his shoulders, taking in his disheveled appearance.

"you've got to be starving," you comment, but then you look back up at his face.

it's not Bucky.

he's staring at you, looking into your eyes so intensely you'd think it's all he knew how to do.

"are you hungry?" you ask tensely, unsure what else to say. he says nothing in response, but reaches out to you for the second time, this time gripping your waist tightly in both hands as though he owns you.

"mine," he growls.

your breaths become shallow, and you debate your options.

he didn't hurt you last time, he protected you. he let you go. he hasn't hurt you this time.

mine?

you don't fight him when he pulls you into his arms and hauls you to your bed.

you would never admit to a single soul that you were eager, that you were excited when he started to yank at your clothes and began to suck at the skin of your neck.

"no marks!" you exclaim in a panic. you can't have Bucky see it, he'll freak. you're most certainly not sure how you're supposed to explain this to him, but you will.

eventually.

clearly, your request pisses him off, but he lets up on his ministrations, running his mouth across your chest without leaving a single bruise in his wake.

his hands are more firm on your skin than Bucky's. he's not giving, he's taking. he's going to do what he wants.

you moan at the realization.

his hands yank your sweatpants off, not wasting any time as he shoves his hands in your underwear, only to find you absolutely dripping for him.

you hear him grunt at the discovery, quickly pulling his own pants out of the way, not wanting to wait another minute to fuck you.

you've taken Bucky a million times, only a few of them this quickly, with this little prep.

you don't let yourself think about the fact that you've never gotten this wet this quickly before.

he tolds you tightly by the waist underneath him, pinning you to the bed, taking what he wants. he's careful not to leave any marks, just as you asked.

"mine," is all he says, over and over again, the whole time he fucks you.

all the while, you're sobbing out with how fucking good it is, prepared for the neighbors to bang down your door the next day and demand you shut the fuck up.

you don't care. right now, all that's on your mind is that you're his.

~~~

when you wake up the next morning, you're not sure what to expect. you see him laying there next to you, dead asleep. at some point, you both must have stripped off the rest of your clothes to sleep.

you slip out of bed, pulling on your pajamas, telling yourself to not think about how you're going to explain this to him until after you've had coffee.

you're looking out the window above the sink, sipping your beverage, when you hear a familiar voice say your name from behind you.

you whip around, lukewarm coffee sloshing over the sides of the mug, to see him standing there.

"Bucky," you say in relief and run to him.

when he begins to ask questions, you lie. you shouldn't lie to him, but now isn't the time to tell him. you have to wait until he's come to terms with the fact that he was turned again.

you'll tell him when he's ready.

you feed him the same story you fed the rest of the team. you never saw the winter soldier, you only saw the mess he left. when he came in the window last night, you were asleep.

you never saw the winter soldier.

and that's what you told everyone when you brought Bucky in to show everyone that he was alive and himself again. that's the story you stuck to when everyone began arguing over what they were supposed to do, how they were supposed to deal with this. they fought over how to keep you safe going forward, assuming that you would be the first person on the winter soldier's kill list.

you bit your tongue as the anxiety of keeping the secret broiled in your stomach.

~~~

the second time it happened, you weren't there to stop it.

he was only a few blocks from the compound, going for a run around the city, when the ambush happened.

another handful of rogue agents grabbed him, this time intending to set him loose on everyone in the compound. surely they could prevent what happened last time, that they could direct him to kill whoever they pleased.

they were wrong. in the same fashion as the time before, he killed them all without hesitation, the only thought in his mind: you.

you were alone in the fifth floor kitchen, thinking about how it was long past time for you to tell him. it'd been weeks, and he deserved to know.

you just hoped he wouldn't leave you when you told him, that he wouldn't try to convince himself you were better off without him, safer without him.

suddenly, you hear the door slam.

you turn towards the noise, having scared the living daylights out of you, when you see Bucky walking in.

"fucking hell, don't do that, you scared me," you say, tending to your food on the stove, building up the courage to bring up the subject weighing heavy on your mind. "I made lunch. I was hoping we could talk."

he doesn't say anything in response, walking up behind you and wrapping his hands around your waist in the same manner as the time before.

"mine," he whispers in your ear, and you freeze.

not Bucky.

you barely flick the stove off before he's grabbing you all over, a metal hand running up your shirt and his other hand dipping into your pants.

"fuck, how did you-" you begin to ask him, but you know he won't answer you. he probably won't even know the answer.

you lean back against him, letting him carry your whole body weight as he gropes at the flesh of your breast and begins to rub circles over your clit.

"mine."

you almost wonder if it's the only word he knows with how much he repeats it to you.

"yes. yours," you affirm, spurring him on.

this time, he leaves a mark on your neck.

"yours, fuck, I'm yours," you whine as you come too quickly, giving yourself over to him willingly.

"you belong to me," he growls in your ear, wrapping a metal hand around your throat and gently squeezing. the unspoken implication of "not him" is not lost on you.

you don't have it in you to disagree.

~~~

part 2

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[servndipityz]

Hii! I wanted to request a Nam-gyu x reader smut story where it's Obviously Readers first time at a club despite only being a year or two younger than him. Maybe with the reader being a virgin too? I can't get this idea out my head 🙏 Rest is up to you, thank you so much<3

a/n ── hope you like it! absolutely loved the idea :)

CLOSER

warnings ── SMUT! MDNI, takes place after the games (don't ask me how they got out lmao i just know that they're alive and happy), porn v plot, p in v, unprotected sex, sex under the influence, virginity loss, corruption kink kinda? oral (f receiving)

word count ── 8k

────────────────────────────────────────────

a month. a month and a half, if nam-gyu was being precise. but who’s counting?

it had been a month and a half since they’d gotten out of those fucking games. a month and a half since he’d started to get to know you better.

and more than a month and a half since nam-gyu had had sex. but who’s counting?

as shitty as his old life was, he couldn’t have been happier to have it back. promoting club pentagon again, getting high every weekend, slipping right back into his little trashy life.

plus, now he had something he didn’t have before. you.

he’d met you there, in the games, and he’d been doomed from then on. it was a strange sort of thing, really. nam-gyu was never the type to feel things. at first, he actually thought he’d caught the flu. then he figured it was just some kind of ptsd after the games—which, to be fair, he definitely had, but that was a whole other thing. but no, the tingling in his fingertips whenever he touched you, the stupid flip his stomach did when you talked... that wasn’t a mental disorder, no matter how much he tried to convince himself it was.

he’d never felt that way about a girl before. almost... caring. maybe it was more than caring, but he’d never admit it. anyway, you and him were in some kind of limbo. you weren’t something, but you weren’t nothing either. you hung out multiple times a week, texted semi-regularly, and had messy make-out sessions more times than he could count—but less than he would’ve liked. never more than making out, though. and yeah, that thought crossed his mind sometimes. he wasn’t an expert on these things, but he’d taken girls to bed for much less.

you always seemed to stop things right before they got too intense, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother him. having to beat his meat every time after hanging out with you wasn’t exactly fun. but somehow, you seemed worth it. so he, the most impatient man in the world, had decided to be patient. for once.

anyway, even though he knew you weren’t really used to clubs, he figured he’d invite you to club pentagon. he wanted you to have a fun time, see where he worked, see how his life was before the games. he wanted you to let loose a little.

"thanos will be there, it'll be fun," he’d said, and it hadn’t taken much to convince you.

so there you were, the cold biting at your legs in your short skirt, gripping your purse tight as you eyed the long line of people waiting to get in. then, skipping it—feeling very glamorous all of a sudden.

"i'm, uh, friends with nam-gyu," you said, the words coming out almost like a question as the bouncer looked you up and down. you gave your name, and after a moment, he finally spotted you on the list, letting you in without much fuss.

as you stepped into the club, you were almost left in awe. you'd never really liked clubs—not really. when all your friends started partying, you gave it a shot before deciding you preferred a more chill vibe. getting drunk with friends, sharing a blunt, that sort of thing. but then again, the shitty clubs your friends dragged you to in your teenage years couldn’t compare to club pentagon.

several stories high, you could barely make out the ceiling. lights of different hues illuminated the space, smoke spilling from canisters, the bass-heavy music pulsing from a dj booth stationed at the center of the main floor. to say it was packed was an understatement, and you didn’t wonder why. the place was incredible.

you looked around, suddenly awkward. what now? what were you supposed to do? where were you supposed to go? how—

"nam-gyu!" you called out, spotting him weaving through the crowd toward you. he glanced up at you, nodding in greeting. kept it cool. he always kept it cool.

nam-gyu wasn’t expecting you to look this good. which, in hindsight, was a mistake.

your hands found their place on his shoulders before you even thought about it, familiar but not entirely effortless. still getting used to this. to him. to the way he let you in but only just enough.

"you came." he smirked slightly. his hand found your waist without thinking, the fabric of your shirt soft beneath his fingers. he barely had time to process it before you leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. barely there. almost shy.

you weren’t used to that either. you pulled away just as quickly, catching the way nam-gyu’s dark eyes flickered over you before he schooled his expression into something more detached. not detached enough, though. the way his thumb ghosted over your side told another story. he was playing it cool. always.

"this place is super cool," you said, spinning slightly to take it all in.

the music pulsed, deep and low, the bass rattling the floor beneath you. the air smelled like expensive liquor and cheap cologne, bodies pressing close under flashing lights.

nam-gyu scoffed, pleased despite himself. "yeah?" he chuckled, tilting his head at you, his expression settling into something smug. "c'mon, i’ll show you the vip section."

and of course, you let him.

he led you through the club, already losing track of its winding paths, but nam-gyu moved like he owned the place. and he liked it—you could see he liked it. guiding you like he held any real power, his hand still pressed firmly to your lower waist as he did so. he liked being the one guiding you, showing you his world like it meant something. like he meant something here. and maybe he did. maybe you saw it too.

"look who it is!"

the voice cut through the air just before you reached the top of the short staircase. thanos. loud as ever, his grin splitting his face as he all but threw himself up from the couch. the two girls draped over him barely had time to react before he pulled away, arms open wide as he closed the distance between you.

you barely had time to brace yourself before he engulfed you in a hug, laughter rumbling from his chest. the scent of cologne and alcohol clung to him, heavy and overfamiliar, like he had been here for hours.

"damn, lookin' good!" he said as he pulled away, giving you a quick once-over—no real interest behind it, but enough to make you giggle.

it really was crazy how being stuck in some life-or-death games could make people this close in such a short time.

"okay, chill." nam-gyu rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile on his lips, his hand never leaving your waist.

thanos ignored him. "have a seat, señorita." he gestured toward the black leather couch, and you, along with nam-gyu, walked over to sit down. thanos dropped back into his seat, slinging his arms around the two girls, who seemed more than happy about it.

you ordered a drink as soon as you saw an opening, your nerves slowly starting to settle. though, judging by the weird looks you got for passing on the white powder on the table and the little bags of funky-colored pills, not everyone was on the same page.

there were other people you didn’t recognize lounging on the couches—probably some of nam-gyu’s friends or co-workers. thanos started rattling off introductions, including the girls, and as the alcohol finally started running through your veins, you felt yourself relaxing, settling into the atmosphere a little more.

you weren't sure how much time had passed, but the warmth of the alcohol was settling into your limbs, making everything feel just a little bit softer. the music vibrated through your chest, the flashing lights casting shifting colors over the VIP lounge, and you were beginning to understand why nam-gyu liked this place so much. it was loud, chaotic, a little grimy—but undeniably alive.

"you good?" nam-gyu leaned in, voice low against your ear. his breath was warm, his hand sliding from your waist to rest on your thigh, fingers pressing absentminded circles into your skin.

"mhm," you hummed, tilting your head toward him. "it’s actually kinda fun."

"yeah?" he smirked, like he knew he'd be right all along. of course he did. "told you."

his hand squeezed your thigh lightly before retreating, but not before dragging his fingers a little too slow against your skin. you rolled your eyes, but you didn't move away.

"hey, hey!" thanos suddenly called out, raising his arms to make sure everyone was listening. "how about we play a game?"

some people groaned, others laughed. a game?

"what game?" someone asked. thanos smirked, clearly pleased that he had everyone's attention.

"never have i ever," he said, his grin widening as more groans followed.

"aren't we a little too old for that?" you asked, smirking like the idea amused you.

"i'm not." he shrugged. "are you girls?" he leaned back, and both girls shook their heads vigorously.

you turned to nam-gyu, who seemed more interested in watching you than the conversation. your cheeks warmed when you caught him staring.

"wanna play?" you asked. he just shrugged. he wasn’t really into these kinds of games—he wasn’t into any games, really—but he didn’t care enough to argue. whatever passed the time.

eventually, everyone gathered around the table, all eyes on thanos as he ordered a round of the strongest drink he could think of for everyone.

the first few rounds were harmless enough. “never have i ever gotten a secret tattoo.” “never have i ever been arrested.” stupid things. you sipped your drink when necessary, laughing at some of the stories that followed, the warmth of the alcohol sinking deeper into your skin. nam-gyu barely participated, only taking a sip when he absolutely had to, but his hand had found its way back to your thigh, his fingers drumming absentmindedly against your skin.

then the questions started shifting.

"never have i ever hooked up in a club," one of thanos’ girls said, grinning like she already knew the answer for most people here. a bunch of hands reached for their drinks, nam-gyu included. you hesitated just a second too long before passing. his eyes flicked toward you, but he didn’t say anything.

the next one wasn’t any better.

"never have i ever had a one-night stand," some guy threw out. almost everyone drank. except you. you felt it before you even looked—nam-gyu was watching. his fingers stilled against your thigh for half a second before they resumed their lazy tapping, like he was processing something.

it wasn’t weird, not really. plenty of people hadn’t had one-night stands before. but it was the way you hesitated every time, the way your fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt, the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed.

"never have i ever had sex in a public place," thanos threw in, laughing when half the group groaned.

nam-gyu took a sip. you didn’t.

you looked up at nam-gyu, meeting his gaze for just a second too long. you knew what he was thinking. knew he was piecing it together. maybe he’d already suspected—maybe he already knew—but this was confirmation, wasn’t it?

"wait," thanos interrupted, a slight crack in his voice from how drunk he was. "you're cheating!" he pointed at you.

"what? i'm not." you frowned, confused as everyone turned to look.

"c’mon, your glass is almost full. you haven't been drinking."

he wasn’t wrong. sure, you’d taken your fair share of gulps, but considering most people were on their second drink—some even on their third—it was true.

a flicker of anxiety crept in, the alcohol in your system making you let out a stupid giggle. "i'm not cheating," you shrugged shyly.

"she hasn’t been drinking on the sex ones. i've seen it."

your smile vanished completely. one of the girls next to thanos had spoken, but it was nam-gyu you worried about. you’d caught him noticing earlier, but you kind of hoped he wouldn’t actually put the pieces together.

hoped he wouldn’t realize you were a virgin.

but now, with everyone watching, you were running out of luck.

"yeah, because... because i haven't done some of those things."

it was normal, you told yourself. being a virgin. the right time had never come, and you weren’t about to give it up for some scumbag at a club. you knew you shouldn’t be ashamed. but this? definitely not something you wanted everyone to know.

"what?" some guy blurted out, brows furrowed. "those were easy. you're telling me you never had a one-night stand?"

you pressed your lips together awkwardly. what did he expect you to say?

meanwhile, nam-gyu hadn't stopped watching you, his hand—resting on your leg—now completely still.

it was driving you nuts.

but as you looked over at thanos, you knew it was definitely over for you. a slow smile crept onto his previously confused expression as realization dawned. "holy shit, you're a virgin!"

your stomach twisted. a hot wave of embarrassment rushed up your neck, burning under the weight of every pair of eyes on you.

"what? no," you scoffed, trying for casual, but it came out a little too forced, a little too breathless.

thanos’ grin stretched wider. he could smell bullshit from a mile away. "oh, come on," he laughed, leaning forward like he was about to drag this out, like he was about to make it a thing.

panic prickled at the edges of your brain. you needed to get out of here. fast.

your phone. yes. a perfect excuse. you yanked it out of your bag, squinting at the screen like you’d just received the most urgent message of your life. "shit," you muttered. "i gotta go."

you were already pushing up from your seat before anyone could react. nam-gyu's hand slid off your thigh, his fingers barely catching against your skin before falling away completely.

"wait—what? already?"

"yeah, sorry," you said quickly, grabbing your coat, your bag, whatever you needed just to make a clean escape. "totally forgot i had something early tomorrow. can’t stay."

someone called after you. maybe thanos. maybe one of the girls. you weren’t sure. you weren’t listening. you were already weaving through the crowd, heart hammering, barely remembering to toss a quick "bye!" over your shoulder before the club swallowed you whole.

still sitting on the couch, nam-gyu's mind was spinning, and he was barely even drunk.

of course you were a virgin.

it all made sense now. the way you looked at him sometimes, the hesitation, the way you could go from teasing to flustered in seconds. the way you pulled back like you weren’t sure what would happen if you didn’t. and maybe he should’ve known, maybe it was obvious, but somehow, it still caught him off guard.

he hazily glanced toward where you'd just left, the rest of the crowd still laughing and talking around him.

nam-gyu wasn’t the type to walk girls home.

but then again, he also wasn’t the type to like girls.

so he did the only thing that made sense—he downed the rest of his drink, got up without bothering to say goodbye, and pushed his way through the club.

it was late. the streets were dangerous. he didn’t want you to die or whatever.

when he finally stepped out, the streets were dark, damp from earlier rain, and the air was sharp against his skin. he scanned the sidewalk, found you a few blocks ahead. you were walking fast, arms tucked close, head slightly down.

he hated this. hated how he cared. hated how natural it felt to push through the lingering crowd, to break into an easy jog—casual enough to not look stupid, but fast enough to close the distance. he just hoped everyone else was too drunk to remember him, of all people, running after someone.

“hey!” he called out once he was just a few steps behind you.

you turned at the sound of his voice, startled.

he caught the flicker of something on your face before you wiped it away—too fast, too practiced. a tear.

“nam-gyu?” you asked, confusion in your voice. “what—”

“i’ll walk you home.” he shrugged, casual, like it was no big deal. like it was just something to do. he shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he caught up to you, his face carefully neutral.

you gulped. the last thing you wanted was to be around him right now.

“okay.” you trailed off, unsure of what else to say. how had it come to this? you’d survived hell together, yet suddenly, everything was so awkward. he wondered the same thing as he walked beside you, lighting up a cigarette.

you felt bad. it wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it. a million times, actually. nam-gyu seemed so experienced, so mature, and you were just… a virgin. all those times you’d stopped things before they got too heated, all those times you’d held yourself back.

you weren’t even boyfriend and girlfriend. you didn’t want to burden him with the responsibility of taking your virginity. it was stupid, but you knew how men felt about it. they didn’t want some little girl who didn’t know what she was doing. they didn’t want to deal with it.

so ever since the games, ever since you two had started… whatever this was, you’d felt like you were leading him on. you knew you couldn’t keep it up forever. sooner or later, he’d find out and leave. you just hadn’t expected it to be this soon.

after a whole block in silence, he finally spoke.

"so you're a virgin?" nam-gyu blurted out, though he already knew the answer.

it wasn’t a judgment, just an observation—dry, matter-of-fact. he took a slow drag from his cigarette, the ember flaring briefly in the dim light before fading into the night air.

you cursed under your breath, shutting your eyes like that might somehow erase the last ten minutes of existence. as if not seeing him would make this less mortifying.

“…yeah.” the word barely made it past your lips, your voice low, hesitant.

when you finally risked a glance at him, he wasn’t even looking at you. his gaze was fixed on the cracked pavement, the faintest furrow in his brow betraying some kind of thought process.

you sighed, arms crossing tightly over your chest. “i know it sucks. i’m sorry for not telling you, but it’s not exactly something that comes up after almost dying multiple times playing kids’ games! like—hey, i know we just survived the most traumatic experience of our lives, but by the way, i’m a fucking vir—”

"'s fine."

the words were abrupt, cutting your rambling off before you could spiral any further.

you blinked, arms falling to your sides as you realized you’d been gesturing wildly, like that might somehow defend your own inexperience. meanwhile, nam-gyu just kept walking, cigarette perched between his fingers, deep in thought.

"really? you're fine with it?" you asked.

the truth was, nam-gyu wasn’t exactly thrilled.

it wasn’t even about you being a virgin, not really. it was the fact that he’d thought about fucking you ever since the games. which was humiliating enough to admit to himself. a man had his needs, after all. but once again, he found himself in the unfortunate position of giving a shit.

he exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

"…yeah." his voice was low, clipped. he wasn't mad—just thinking. weighing his options. where would this leave you?

he hated himself for liking you this much. not being an asshole was unfamiliar territory.

"if you don’t wanna have sex, i understand," he added after a beat.

you widened your eyes. "no, no!" you rushed out. "i do wanna have sex."

his brain stalled.

you swallowed, hesitating as he watched you, gaze steady but sharp, like he was trying to read between the lines. you shifted, tucking your hands into your sleeves. "i've just… never done it. and i don’t know… i didn’t wanna bother you or… anything."

it sounded beyond awkward.

nam-gyu frowned, processing. not because he thought anything bad about it—just because it never occurred to him. he’d assumed you weren’t interested in having sex at all, or that you were waiting for some deep, poetic reason, for someone that wasn't nam-gyu. but now you were here, telling him this, cheeks burning, voice all soft and uncertain.

and now he had to keep his shit together.

"so… you want me to, like…" his dick twitched in his pants, betraying him immediately. no way this was happening.

"i mean—only if you want to…" your cheeks were burning, you were sure of that now. you felt like a teenager talking to her crush.

if he wanted to? his jaw went slack for a second, a breath slipping out as he stared at you. it was barely a question.

"fuck yeah, i want to," he let out, low and firm, like he needed you to understand.

something shifted then. the air got tighter, the weight of the moment settling between you. you bit your lip, eyes flickering over his face like you were still trying to wrap your head around this. then, slowly, a smile crept onto your lips—breathless, nervous, electric.

"okay." you let out a shaky little laugh, grabbing his wrist. your grip was warm, solid, like you’d made up your mind and there was no going back now. "okay, let’s go."

nam-gyu nodded, following your lead, his heart hammering in his chest as he picked up the pace. your apartment wasn’t that far.

the apartment was quiet when you stumbled in, breathless, a little drunk, and buzzing with something you didn’t quite know how to name. nam-gyu followed, the door clicking shut behind him as he leaned back against it for a second, exhaling like he was trying to steady himself.

the air between you was thick, charged with a long time of yearning. your heartbeat thrummed in your ears as you toed off your shoes, glancing over at him. he was watching you, the way he always did—like he was already thinking ten steps ahead, figuring out how this was going to play out.

he hadn’t touched you yet. he was letting you decide.

so you did.

you took a step closer, then another, until you were right in front of him, your fingers hesitating before curling around the hem of his jacket. his breath hitched, just barely, and that was all the confirmation you needed.

you pushed up onto your toes, closing the space between you. his lips were warm, the taste of smoke lingering faintly as he kissed you back. he let you set the pace, his hands coming to rest lightly on your waist, thumbs brushing against the fabric of your dress.

it wasn’t the first time you’d kissed, but something about this was different. more urgent. more deliberate. maybe because, for once, there was no stopping this time.

your fingers tugged at his jacket, slipping it off his shoulders. he let it fall to the floor, his hands finally pressing into you properly, gripping your waist, pulling you closer. a quiet sound slipped from your lips, and you felt the way he stiffened at that, his grip tightening.

“fuck,” he muttered, voice rough. he pulled back just enough to search your face, his dark eyes flicking between yours. “you sure?”

you nodded, chest rising and falling with each breath. “yeah.”

a muscle in his jaw twitched. his fingers brushed the side of your neck, then curled around it, his thumb ghosting over your pulse. “we stop if you change your mind.”

you swallowed. “i won’t.”

the look he gave you was unreadable—something dark and determined—before he tilted your chin up, kissing you deeper this time, slower, like he wanted to make sure you felt every second of it.

nam-gyu wasn’t soft—he wasn’t sweet. he wasn’t the kind of man to whisper tender nothings or stroke your hair. he didn’t coddle. but the way his hands moved told you everything you needed to know.

the drag of his fingers down your spine. the slow, deliberate way his palm flattened against the small of your back, pressing you flush against him. the heat in his touch, like he was holding himself back, forcing himself to move slow, to let you set the pace. it sent a shiver through you, and his grip tightened in response, like he felt it too.

you let out a breath, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, and he exhaled sharply against your lips before pulling back just a fraction, enough to look at you properly. his dark eyes roamed over your face, pupils blown, jaw tight.

"you're nervous." it wasn't a question.

you swallowed. "a little."

his thumb brushed against your waist, almost absentmindedly. "yeah. that makes sense."

you let out a small, breathy laugh, but there was an edge of vulnerability to it. he could see it. you could tell.

he tilted his head, watching you like he was trying to figure something out. then he exhaled slowly, his fingers tracing over your skin with a gentleness that was completely at odds with the sharp, rough way he usually carried himself.

"you know i won’t fuck this up, right?" his voice was low, almost casual, but there was something else beneath it. something steadier.

you hesitated for half a second before nodding. "i know." and you did. maybe that was why you'd never let anyone else touch you like this before. because it wasn’t about inexperience, not really. it was about trust.

and god help you, but you trusted nam-gyu.

the realization sent a flush through you, warmth blooming in your stomach as you let your hands slide up his abdomen, tracing the firm lines of chest beneath his shirt. his breath hitched just barely before his fingers flexed against you, like he was restraining himself from just taking.

"you wanna do this?" he asked, one last time, voice rough.

"yeah," you breathed.

his jaw clenched. "then tell me what you want."

you blinked up at him, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that he'd stopped moving, waiting, his hands resting heavy against your hips but not pulling, not pushing.

he was making you say it.

bastard.

you bit your lip, pulse hammering as you tried to work around the knot of tension in your throat. "i—i want you to touch me."

his fingers twitched, his entire body going still for a second. then he let out a breath through his nose, and his grip on your waist tightened.

"yeah?" his voice was just a little lower, a little rougher.

you nodded, heat pooling in your stomach at the way he was looking at you now—like he was barely keeping himself in check.

"get on the bed," he said.

your breath caught.

for a moment, you just stared at him, heart hammering, and then, slowly, you walked to your bedroom, him following you close. you backed up toward the bed, your knees hitting the edge as you lowered yourself down.

he followed, standing at the foot of the bed, watching you with that unreadable expression—half lustful, half like he couldn’t believe this was real. his hands went to his belt, and your eyes flickered down, pulse spiking at the sound of the leather slipping through the loops.

then, instead of undressing fully, he leaned down, hands bracketing your hips, pressing you back against the mattress.

"you ever let anyone touch you like this?" his voice was rough, like he already knew the answer.

you shook your head, breathless. "no."

a low sound escaped him, something dark, something pleased. his hands slipped under your skirt, palms dragging slow over your thighs as he pushed the fabric up. he took his time, tracing the shape of you, pressing just firmly enough to make you squirm.

"you thought about it, though," he murmured. it wasn’t a question. his thumbs brushed the sensitive skin at the tops of your thighs, eyes locked onto yours.

you swallowed hard. "…yeah."

his lips twitched, almost a smirk. "yeah? thought about me?"

your face burned. he was being cruel on purpose, making you say it.

"…yes."

"fuck," he muttered, like the confirmation did something to him. his hands moved higher, fingers hooking into the band of your underwear, but instead of pulling them down, he let them rest there, teasing.

"how’d you think it’d go?" his voice was lower now, almost a growl. "thought i'd just take you fast, rough? pin you down, fuck the innocence out of you?"

you sucked in a sharp breath, thighs twitching beneath his touch. he huffed a quiet laugh.

"bet you didn't think i'd take my time," he murmured, leaning down, pressing his mouth to the side of your neck. his lips dragged over your pulse, then lower, leaving a slow, open-mouthed kiss against your collarbone. "but i like knowing i'm the first one."

you gasped softly as his hands finally moved, slipping under your top, dragging it up inch by inch until he could pull it over your head. your arms instinctively came up to cover yourself, but he caught your wrists, pushing them aside.

"none of that," he muttered, his gaze dropping to your bare chest. he exhaled sharply, running his thumbs along the curve of your breasts before cupping them fully, testing the weight in his palms.

"fuck, look at you," he muttered, voice low and reverent. "so fucking pretty."

you whimpered as his thumbs brushed over your nipples in slow circles. he watched your face the whole time, reading every tiny reaction, every sharp intake of breath.

"sensitive," he noted, almost to himself. then he leaned down, tongue flicking over one peak before wrapping his lips around it, sucking just enough to make you gasp.

heat coiled low in your stomach as he worked, alternating between each breast, slow and thorough. it was overwhelming, the way he was handling you—not rough, not rushed, just taking his time, learning every inch of you.

one of his hands trailed lower, down your stomach, to the waistband of your panties. he paused, looking up at you, waiting.

you nodded, exhaling shakily. "please."

his smirk deepened. "good girl."

he peeled your panties down your legs, his fingers skimming over your skin like he was savoring the moment. you shivered at the sensation, at the weight of his gaze as he settled between your thighs.

“fuck,” nam-gyu muttered under his breath, like he hadn’t been prepared for what he was seeing. his hands splayed against your inner thighs, pressing them further apart, baring you completely to him. he didn’t look away, eyes dark and hungry, his tongue running over his bottom lip like he could already taste you.

your body burned under the scrutiny. you weren’t used to this—being seen like this, having someone take their time looking. you twitched, about to press your legs together, but his grip tightened.

“uh-uh,” he murmured, almost amused. “you’re gonna let me look.”

you swallowed hard, breath catching as he leaned in, his nose brushing the soft skin of your inner thigh. his breath was hot, sending a shiver through you as he exhaled, slow and controlled.

he dragged a single finger up the length of your slit, just enough to make you jolt, to make your breath stutter. "you're soaked, girl. you sure you've never done this before?"

heat surged through you at the teasing lilt in his voice, and you let out a shaky breath. "i—fuck, nam-gyu—"

"yeah?" he smirked, but it wasn’t cocky. it was something else, something almost fascinated. like he was enjoying this in a way he hadn’t expected.

his fingers traced slow, teasing circles over your clit, barely any pressure, just enough to make you whimper. your hips twitched, and his grip tightened, keeping you pinned.

"relax," he murmured, his voice low, almost gentle. "let me make you feel good."

then he leaned down.

you barely had time to register the shift before his tongue was on you, warm and wet and unbearably slow. your breath caught, your fingers twisting into the sheets as his mouth worked you open, his tongue dragging through your folds, lazy and thorough.

"fuck," he muttered against you, his voice rough. "you taste so fucking sweet."

the way he said it sent a fresh wave of heat pooling in your stomach. his hands pressed into your thighs, spreading you wider, keeping you open as he ate you like he had all the time in the world.

it was overwhelming—the way he was licking you, slow and deep, like he was savoring it. like he was getting off on this just as much as you were. his nose brushed against your clit with every stroke of his tongue, and it was too much, not enough, all at once.

your back arched, a desperate sound slipping from your lips. he groaned low in his throat, the vibration sending a shudder through you. "that's it," he murmured, his voice almost slurred against your skin. "let me hear you."

one of his hands slid up, his thumb replacing his tongue on your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles as he pressed his mouth lower, flicking his tongue against your entrance, teasing the edge.

"nam-gyu—" your voice broke on his name, breathless and desperate, and his grip tightened.

"fuck, you sound good," he muttered. his tongue pushed inside you, and the sensation sent a sharp bolt of pleasure up your spine, made your thighs shake.

"think you can take me?" he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin. "gotta get you ready for me."

you gasped as he pushed a finger inside, slow and steady, curling it just right. he groaned at the way you clenched around him, his tongue lapping up every reaction, every sound.

"shit," he muttered. "so tight. gonna feel so fucking good."

the words alone made your stomach tighten, the heat coiling low, winding tighter and tighter. he added a second finger, stretching you open, thrusting slow, deep, his tongue still working your clit.

it was too much. the pressure built fast, overwhelming, unbearable. your thighs trembled around his head, your fingers tightening in his hair.

"i—" your breath hitched, your body tensing.

he growled low in his throat, his fingers pressing deep, his tongue flicking faster, relentless. "come for me."

and you did.

the pleasure hit hard, shattering through you, knocking the air from your lungs. your back arched, your body tightening around his fingers, and he groaned against you, drinking in every last tremor, working you through it, drawing it out until you were shaking beneath him, gasping for breath.

only then did he finally pull back, his breath ragged, his lips slick and swollen. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes dark, almost feverish as he looked at you.

"fuck," he muttered, voice rough, almost awed.

he climbed up over you, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, then your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. his hands framed your face, thumbs brushing against your skin, steadying you.

his exhale was sharp, controlled, but his grip on your waist betrayed him—fingers digging in, like he had to hold himself back from wrecking you completely. his forehead dropped to yours for half a second, just long enough for you to feel the way his breath came heavy, ragged.

"you're gonna kill me," he muttered, half a groan, half a laugh, before he pulled back, eyes flicking down your body—like he was trying to commit every inch of you to memory. his fingers traced your thigh absentmindedly, like he still couldn't believe you were letting him touch you.

then he sat back, unbuttoning his jeans.

your breath hitched as you watched him work, his knuckles going white with how tightly he was gripping his belt. the leather slid through the loops with a sharp snap, and your thighs pressed together instinctively at the sound. his lips curled slightly—he noticed.

"don't get shy on me now," he murmured, voice thick with amusement, but he wasn't smirking anymore. no, his expression was darker, sharper. his fingers moved with slow, measured precision as he unzipped his jeans, pushing them down just enough to free himself.

your stomach flipped.

you had no idea what you'd been expecting, but whatever it was—it wasn't this. he was…big. thick. a flush creeping up his shaft, his tip swollen and slick with arousal. you stared, suddenly feeling very aware of your own inexperience, of the way your body still trembled faintly from the orgasm he'd just given you.

nam-gyu noticed.

"yeah?" his voice was rough, teasing, but there was something else beneath it—something dangerously satisfied. his fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, giving it a slow, lazy stroke, like he was savoring the moment. "that nervous?"

you swallowed hard, forcing your eyes back to his face. he looked wrecked, his dark hair falling into his eyes, his mouth slightly parted. his chest rose and fell heavily, like it was taking effort not to just pin you down and take—

"i can take it," you said, before you could second-guess yourself. your voice was breathless but steady, your chin tilting up just slightly in challenge.

his jaw locked.

for a second, he just looked at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips, like he was seeing you—really seeing you—for the first time. then, suddenly, his grip on your waist tightened, dragging you down the mattress until your thighs framed his hips.

"yeah," he murmured, almost to himself. his hand brushed over your stomach, your hip, sliding back down between your legs. his fingers traced your entrance, feeling the way you were still soaked for him. "i think you can, too."

your breath stuttered as he pressed two fingers inside you again, stretching you open. his thumb found your clit, rubbing soft, teasing circles—not enough to push you over, just enough to make your breath hitch.

"nam-gyu—" you gasped, hips twitching under his touch.

his free hand came up, catching your chin, tilting your head so you had to look at him. his eyes were dark, blown out with something almost ravenous.

"you still sure?" he murmured, voice low. "tell me you want it."

your pulse pounded.

you could feel how badly he wanted you, how much effort it was taking for him to hold back. and yet—he still gave you the choice. he was still waiting.

your heart clenched.

"yes," you whispered. "please."

his restraint snapped.

the second your lips formed that word, he was on you—pulling his fingers from your slick heat, gripping himself, pressing the thick, flushed head of his cock right against your entrance. he didn't push in. not yet. instead, he rocked against you, rubbing his length along your slit, smearing himself in your wetness, letting you feel every ridge, every inch of his size before he even tried to fit.

your breath hitched. your nails dug deep into his forearms, your body instinctively tensing.

"relax," he murmured, voice tight, nearly hoarse, like he was fighting against the instinct to just take. his free hand smoothed up your thigh, over the curve of your waist, warm, steady, grounding. "breathe."

you tried. you really did. forced your lungs to expand, to exhale, to let go of the tension gripping your muscles. but the second he started to push in, all that breath stuttered out in a sharp, broken gasp.

it was too much. the stretch, the slow, inch-by-inch burn as his cock forced your body to open around him, to take him. a kind of ache you’d never felt before, raw and overwhelming—too much and not enough, like your body was fighting him even as it craved more.

"fuck," he gritted out, his jaw clenching so tight you could see the muscle jump. his hands flexed against your skin, his entire body trembling with restraint. "jesus, baby—you're so fucking tight—"

your stomach flipped at the words, heat pooling deep in your core. he never talked to you like that. never called you things like that. but now, here he was, panting above you, voice wrecked and reverent, murmuring praise like he couldn’t help it.

after a few seconds, you whimpered, hands gripping his shoulders. "more."

his control broke.

he pushed in, slow but deep, a smooth, deliberate thrust that seated him all the way inside you in one stroke. your breath tore from your lungs, your back arching as the stretch bloomed into something fuller, hotter, the ache curling into something dangerously close to pleasure.

nam-gyu groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder. "holy fuck," he rasped, voice wrecked, almost pained. his fingers dug into your hips, like he was holding on for dear life. "so fucking good—you're so tight, so perfect, fuck—"

your pulse pounded in your throat, your entire body thrumming with sensation. there was still a burn, still that overwhelming fullness, but beneath it was something else—something deeper, something good.

you shifted your hips, testing, trying to ease the pressure.

his entire body locked up.

"don't—" his voice was strangled, desperate. his hands tightened, pinning you down. "don't fucking move, or i’m gonna lose it."

every muscle in his body was taut, locked, like a predator barely holding back from sinking its teeth in. his fingers bit into your hips, warning you, anchoring himself—but you could feel it. the way he was shaking. the way his cock twitched, buried so deep inside you you swore you could feel him in your stomach.

you swallowed hard, pulse hammering, skin burning where he touched you.

it was too much. too deep. too thick. your body fought to adjust, pulsing around him in helpless, desperate flutters.

he groaned, low and guttural, pressing his forehead harder into your shoulder like he was in pain. “jesus christ.” his breath was hot against your skin, ragged, almost like he was laughing. “gripping me so fucking tight. gonna break me."

you shivered at the rasp of his voice, your fingers sliding up his back, feeling the strain in his muscles. the raw need in him. you were doing this to him. you, all wet and trembling underneath him, still adjusting, still unsure—and he was losing his mind over it.

you swallowed, tried to steady your breath. "you can move," you whispered.

his entire body tensed.

you barely had a second to register the shift before he pulled back, just an inch, and then—slow, deep—he thrust in again.

your breath shattered. your mouth fell open, no sound coming out at first, just a strangled, breathless whimper.

then, before you could so much as blink, he started moving—pulling out halfway before snapping his hips forward again, setting a rhythm that had your breath stuttering in your throat.

he wasn't just fucking you—he was making sure you felt every inch of him, dragging it out, taking his time. and god help you, but it felt so fucking good.

"shit—" you gasped, fingers twisting in the sheets.

his hand slipped between you, his thumb pressing right against your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts. your entire body jerked, pleasure sparking through your nerves like lightning.

"yeah," he muttered, watching you like he was starving. "that’s it. let me see you fucking fall apart."

nam-gyu’s rhythm grew rougher, sharper—his control slipping, his hips snapping forward with a force that had you gasping, clawing at his back. every thick inch of him dragged against your walls, the stretch now molten pleasure, the overwhelming feeling of fullness making your head spin. his body caged you in completely, heat rolling off him in waves, his skin slick with sweat.

"fuck," he rasped, voice ragged, his breath hot against your lips. "listen to you." his thumb pressed harder against your clit, rubbing tight, deliberate circles. "moaning like that—so fucking needy, aren’t you?"

"fuck," you gasped, your nails raking down his back, desperate for more.

nam-gyu groaned, dropping his head to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "shit, you're taking me so fucking good," he muttered, his teeth grazing over your throat before he kissed you there—open-mouthed and messy, dragging his tongue over your pulse like he could taste how wrecked you were for him. "never had anyone inside you, huh? no one’s ever had you like this—"

his words made your stomach flip, a desperate, aching heat blooming in your core. you shook your head, gasping. "no—"

"fuck, baby," he groaned. "you don’t even fucking know—" his lips found your collarbone, biting down just enough to make you jolt, his tongue flicking out to soothe the sting. "how long i've been thinking about this. how long i've wanted to have my cock inside this pretty pussy."

his hands slid up, gripping your tits, squeezing, kneading the soft flesh in his palms. his fingers flicked over your nipples, rolling them between his fingertips, and you whimpered, the pleasure making you arch into his touch.

nam-gyu groaned, his tongue darting out to trace the swell of your breast before his mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking hard.

"oh my god—" your back arched, your fingers twisting into his dark hair, holding him there.

he chuckled, a low, breathy sound against your skin, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before he sucked again, harder this time, drawing a desperate whine from your lips. his hips kept moving, slow but deep, every thrust sending a new wave of pleasure through you, making your stomach coil tighter.

"you're so fucking good," he murmured against your skin, moving to your other breast, giving it the same attention—his lips wrapping around the stiff peak, sucking, his teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. "so fucking tight, taking me so well—fuck, i knew you would."

you whimpered, the heat inside you winding tight, too much and not enough at the same time. your thighs trembled around his waist, your nails dragging down his back.

"nam-gyu," you gasped, voice wrecked, desperate. "please—"

"please what?" he pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips swollen, his eyes dark, burning with something almost possessive. his fingers slid down between you, finding your clit again, circling it with slow, precise movements. "tell me what you need, baby."

you sobbed at the pressure, at the way it made your body twitch beneath him. "i—i wanna cum—"

his jaw tightened, his thrusts growing sharper, faster, the wet sounds of your bodies moving together filling the room.

"yeah?" his voice was strained, breathless. "you wanna cum all over my fucking cock?"

"yes—yes—"

"then do it."

he pinched your clit, just the right amount of pressure, and the coil inside you snapped.

your orgasm hit hard, crashing over you in sharp, shuddering waves, making your entire body lock up beneath him. you let out a high, broken moan, your walls fluttering around him, pulsing, milking his cock as he fucked you through it.

"fuck—fuck—" nam-gyu groaned, his hips stuttering as you clenched around him, the tight grip of your body dragging him right to the fucking edge.

"shit," he rasped, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, his fingers digging into your hips as he snapped his hips forward, harder, rougher. "gonna—fuck, gonna fill you up—"

your entire body shuddered at his words, at the realization of what he was about to do, and you let out a breathless, desperate "please."

that was all it took.

he came, hard, his body trembling as he filled you, his grip tightening almost painfully as he groaned your name, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath ragged, wrecked.

the heat of him spilling inside you made your entire body tremble.

he didn’t pull out right away. he stayed, breathing heavy, pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, your cheek, your lips. his hands—no longer rough, no longer gripping—slid soft over your skin, smoothing down your sides, your waist, your thighs, as if he was soothing you.

you were still shaking, your body aching in the best possible way, your mind swimming in a haze of heat and exhaustion.

nam-gyu shifted, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. his lips pressed to your temple, then your cheek, then—finally—soft against your lips.

"you’re a fucking dream," he murmured almost to himself, voice soft, like he couldn’t quite believe this was real.

your heart skipped.

then, before you could say anything, before you could think—

his hips rolled again, slow, lazy, his cock starting to harden again inside you.

"think you can handle another one?"

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© servndipityz 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content without my permission.

[spatialwave]

hii i love your writing style so so much 😭😭 can i ask for another namgyu smutfic with him calling fem reader "noona"? thank you!! 🤍

.｡ﾟ✰..｡ after you return home from voting to end the games, you spend your days rotting with namgyu... who still refuses to call you noona.

pairing: namgyu x fem!reader word count: 2k tags: mdni, smut, switch!reader + switch!namgyu, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, p w plot, the fic where reader convinces namgyu to call her noona. notes: ty for asking this was soooo fun to write!!! this fic is my apology to @nmgyuuu + anyone else who was personally victimized by the finale of keys and knives. 😭 i'm sorry forgive me <3

Deciding to leave the games had been the best choice you’d ever made—period. You, Semi and Minsu had to do some real convincing after Mingle to get Subong and Namgyu to vote to go home, and surprisingly, the vote swung in your favour by only two.

A tempting offer came shortly after, and about three days after, everyone received the opportunity to go back. The same card. Same phone number.

You hadn’t gone back, and you made sure Namgyu stayed, too. Subong, though, had decided to go back—his debt was too high for only a measly three-hundred million won to take care of. You didn’t blame him, and you just hoped he made it out alive. 

“Namgyu,” you whined, standing in your apartment as you opened your fridge. The light of the appliance lit you up in the otherwise dark space. “Did you eat my leftovers? I was saving those.”

Namgyu sat on your couch, eyes glued to his phone as the stench of weed filled the air. A half-smoked joint lit on an ashtray on the table that he’d forgotten about, slowly burning. Controllers lay askew over your coffee table—both of you had the pleasure of rotting alone for a bit now. You preferred it over what you’d just experienced not long before.

“I got hungry,” he said, putting his phone aside and looking over the back of the couch so just his eyes were visible. “Forgive me, baby?”

“Baby?” You scoffed, shutting the fridge with a loud thud as you decided that you could afford to get something else delivered. Your debt was paid off, and so was Namgyu’s—having been the best girlfriend you could be after pooling your funds together and paying it all off. 

“What’s wrong with baby?” He asked, his eyes so heavy from the weed that he could barely keep them open. Glossy and red. He was always so goddamn high, but it was better than the shit Subong had got him hooked on.

“I’m not your baby. I’m your Noona.”

Namgyu rolled his eyes, cheeks pink at the mention of the honorific. He scoffed, already a bit worked up at the mere mention of it, reminded only of the teasing he’d received from Subong during the games.

“I’m not calling you that,” he retorted, falling back onto the couch with a huff. He returned to his phone, unaware of how you crept towards him until you were able to slide over the back of the couch and straddle him.

“Why can’t you say it?” You whined, smiling as his phone dropped onto his chest and then tumbled out of reach to the floor with a soft clatter. He was forced to look at you, already worked up from your position over him.

“You were born three weeks before me; you're barely older than me,” Namgyu mumbled, hands on your hips as his needy hands already started sliding up and down your bare thighs, thankful for the sleep shorts you loved to wear.

“Say it,” you hummed, watching him as you gently rocked back and forth. He was already so hard, his erection building under the sweatpants he wore and pressing against you. It was the perfect amount of friction as you rutted, small movements to stir him.

He whined, fingernails scratching at your thighs. His cock twitched, already leaking precum and staining his sweatpants as you humped him slow enough to milk out those desperate sounds. He was always such a pathetic mess, always begging you for more—and you loved it. Having the upper hand was always fun, and although he sometimes went on a power trip and dominated you until you were bruised, fucked out and begging for more, most of the time, you found yourself nestled on top of him.

So, wasn’t it time you earned some respect?

“If you don’t say it, I’m not letting you fuck me.”

Namgyu’s eyes softened in an instant, his hands pushing underneath your shirt and rubbing against the soft expanse of your hips and waist. “Let me fuck you,” he whimpered, “Come on. You can’t do this to me and not let me fuck you—“

He was rutting back against you desperately, knowing you couldn’t say no to him. Not when you were so wet it was leaking through your layers of clothes.

“Noona,” you said, hands pressed to his chest as your fingers bundled the fabric of his shirt, “Come on, baby. Say it. I know you want to. Just this once.”

Namgyu groaned, your wet heat making it impossible to think straight. He could feel the way you were sliding against the fabric between you. Choking on his breath as you pulled aside your panties and shorts so your bare pussy was flush against his cock, covered only by a thin pair of sweatpants that you wanted off so bad, but you could be patient. 

“Fuck me,” he groaned deep in his throat, nails catching onto the skin of your hips. A few more rocks of your hips, and he felt like he might cum.

“Not until you say it,” you grumbled—and with that, you pulled away. You were satisfied with yourself as you crawled to the other side of the couch and relaxed back. Legs spread. Shorts and panties doing a horrible job of keeping you covered.

His mouth watered as he watched you. Eyes fixated between your legs as he licked his lips. It was one honorific. Just one word. He could say it, right?

It’s not like you were doing it to humiliate him. If anything, you thought it was hot, especially in these circumstances.

It took him a bit; a few moments fleeted by as he just stared at you. Then, he pushed forward and settled himself between your legs. His mouth inches from your cunt. One more lick of the lips…

“Is this okay, Noona?” He asked, voice coming out in a quiet crack. The weed had always mellowed him out so much more, making him way more introspective and aware of everything. With you, though? It was never bad. You always made him feel so good. It was easier than expected and rolled off his tongue in a way that made you shiver.

Nodding, you sunk lower onto the couch and reached down—fabric pulled aside. You gave him access to your pussy, wet and dripping.

You whined when he licked you, a single swipe from your entrance up to your clit. A few more motions of that until he focused on your sensitive nub, which was beginning to swell and pulse with each flick of his tongue, and each suck of his lips.

“Shit. Babe. Say it again,” you sighed, head lolling back onto the armrest. 

Namgyu pulled back, his chin and lips wet, as he looked up at you. “You like it, Noona?” He asked coyly, unable to overthink it anymore. Not when your juices were dripping so sweetly onto his tongue each time he said it. “You taste so good. God, so fucking good I can’t get enough.”

You mewled when he hooked his arms under your thighs, reaching up and around to keep them apart. He devoured you until his face was wet with your heat, juices running down his chin every time he pulled back for a breath. With only his tongue, he lapped you up until you were gasping for air, and his fingers buried into his messy black hair, releasing so hard you managed to squeeze your thighs through his strong grip.

On your hands and knees, still on the couch, Namgyu fucked you from behind.

Somehow, calling you 'Noona' and seeing the way you reacted gave him too much confidence for his own good. You let him have it, especially when his cock penetrated you so deep you knew you’d be walking crooked for days.

“How’s my cock, Noona?” He asked you, hands grabbing at your ass—slapping. Once, then twice until it was reddened into a handprint. “Answer me.” He slapped again.

“S’good,” you slurred out, head tilted to the side so the couch cushions didn’t swallow it. You tried to look up at him, but you didn’t have the energy. 

“You like it when I call you that?” Namgyu teased you, “You become such a good little slut when I say it. I thought it would make you so proud and dominating, baby. Instead, every time I call you Noona, your pussy tightens and begs me to fuck you harder. Maybe I should start using it all the time, hm? What do you think?”

You whimpered, his words sending chills up your spine. His cock stretched you as his balls slapped your sensitive clit. There was no response except for pathetic little sounds, and Namgyu was so very pleased with himself for putting you in this state.

“Want me to fuck you so hard I put you in your place? Hm, Noona?” 

You earned another spank when you didn’t answer, quickly choking out a meek ‘yes.’ His pace picked up, somehow faster than you thought was possible. His hands grabbed tight at your hips, leaving imprints of where his fingers and rings touched your body.

“Can I cum inside?” Namgyu asked, the first time he sounded so desperate since he’d flipped you onto your hands and knees. “Please, Noona, let me cum. I’ll be better next time, just this time, please. I wanna watch you take it all.”

When he wanted something, Namgyu begged. He wasn’t too proud. Begging to you made his cock twitch in excitement—a reaction only you’d solicited.

You were a mess, unable to respond to his pleas and begs. You squeezed around his cock a few times, hoping that was enough to let him know you were okay with it, and it was.

“Pretty Noona,” he whimpered, fucking you in an erratic pace that showed how close he was. It was overwhelming, with his hands grasping at your skin and his cock stretching you to your limits—you had been fucked so good you couldn’t even speak.

It wasn’t until Namgyu leaned forward and reached around you, a gentle finger finding your clit and rubbing circles, that you came. A sharp gasp caught in your throat, your cunt tightening hard around his thick cock as you pressed your hips back and met his pace a few times until you nearly collapsed. He was right behind you, choking on a moan as he sputtered out ropes of hot cum inside you, filling you so much you knew it would be a pain to clean up.

After he fucked you through his climax, unsteady and shaky thrusts, Namgyu finally collapsed against your back, sighing into your hair as he shifted to settle next to you on the couch. You rolled to lie half-beside and half-on top of him, unmoving and breathing heavily.

“Fuck,” he whispered. He reached between your legs, touching gently through your sticky folds and over your swollen clit. You squirmed, trying to pull away, but you had no room. “Can I fuck you again, Noona?” He asked, and you were surprised that he was using the honorific again. 

You clenched around nothing, causing some of his cum to escape your pussy. His fingers felt it and began to push it back inside you at a lazy pace.

Namgyu kissed your neck, breathing heavily as he inhaled the scent of sweat and lingering vanilla on your skin. He spread his fingers, scissoring them inside you—playing with his cum. You squeezed around him again, whimpering and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Don’t stop calling me that,” you whispered to him. “Mmm,” he grunted tiredly, lips catching against your neck, “Fine. Noona.”

A/N - read on ao3!

[gf2bellamy]

Just watched s2 ep14&15 and when I tell you I cried my eyes out I mean it. Poor baby has to go through so much and alone and all the flashbacks😭😭😭😭. What hurt more was that he had to hide his drug addiction.

So for my mental peace could you write a fic where in female!reader x spencer (established relationship) where she immediately runs to him when they hear the gunshot not caring about precautions and gives him the biggest, protective hug and Spencer just just won't let her go and she wouldn't pull away too and when they reach back home she goes to his place and he breaks down in her arms and tells her everything and she stays with him the whole night everyday helping him through his addiction and withdrawals.

I know it's super long request 😭😭😭😭. Feel free to ignore it though. Love you and your writing! ♥️

Now I'm gonna cry myself I guess, wohoo😶‍🌫️

aftermath — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: established relationship , spencer having withdrawals, mentions of tobias' body ( and tobias himself ) , mention of guns and dilaudid , spencer and reader both cry a/n: hii ! hope you like this <3 this hurt my heart i'm ngl - i didnt rewatch the entire ep and instead just watched clips on youtube so if i got anything wrong lmk

The world stopped the moment the gunshot cracked through the air.

It was like someone had ripped the oxygen from your lungs, leaving you hollow, suspended in a single, suffocating second. Your brain short-circuited, thoughts reduced to a frantic, broken chant no no no no no.

And then you were running.

The graveyard was a sea of shadows, the cold night air biting at your skin as you sprinted blindly between the headstones. Somewhere behind you, Hotch was shouting your name, but it barely registered.

The only thing that mattered was Spencer.

“Spencer? Spencer?” Your voice was raw, frantic. The syllables tore from your throat as you stumbled forward, feet crunching against the dirt and fallen leaves.

The images wouldn’t stop—the live feed flashing before your eyes, Tobias Hankel standing over Spencer, the way he had grabbed Spencer. The moment the screen cut to black, leaving only suffocating silence.

You weren’t sure if the trembling was from the cold or the fear or both. But then—then you saw him.

Spencer. Standing. Alive.

His body rigid, unmoving, as he stood over Tobias Hankel’s lifeless form. His shoulders heaved with each breath, the gun still clutched in his shaking hands.

You didn’t hesitate. You ran to him, feet barely touching the ground, and when you reached him, you collapsed into him with all the force of your desperation.

He froze.

For one agonizing second, he was still, his entire frame wound tight with tension. But then his arms came around you, clutching, grasping—his fingers twisted into the fabric of your jacket. He pressed himself against you, as if trying to mold himself into your skin, as if fearing that if he let go, you would disappear.

“I’m here,” you whispered, your voice trembling, barely more than a breath. The words burned in your throat, strangled by the lump of tears you hadn’t even realized you were holding back.

Spencer didn’t say anything. He just held you. Tightly. Desperately.

Like if he held on hard enough, maybe he could push away the horrors of what had just happened. Like if he crushed you close enough, maybe he could become part of you, escape himself for just a moment.

You could hear the rest of the team arriving. They didn’t pull you away and they didn’t tell Spencer to let go.

Spencer wouldn’t let go. Couldn’t. Not that you wanted him to let go.

His fingers were still twisted into your jacket, holding on with a force that felt desperate, almost painful. His whole body trembled against yours, breaths uneven, shallow, like he was trying to convince himself he was still here. That you were still here.

You tightened your arms around him, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head, fingers threading through his damp, disheveled curls. You felt the way he shuddered under your touch, a broken sound escaping from somewhere deep in his chest.

Spencer still hadn’t spoken. He just held you, clung to you like you were the only thing tethering him to the earth.

So you stayed. You stayed in the middle of that graveyard, with the smell of gunpowder still lingering in the air.

Slowly—so slowly—his breathing evened out. His fingers unclenched slightly, though he still refused to release you. And then, finally, his voice, rough and barely audible, whispered against your skin:

"You came."

As if there had ever been any other option.

You tightened your hold on him, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, your reply muffled but unwavering. "Always."

You weren’t entirely sure when you stopped hugging.

Everything was a blur, a hazy, disjointed mess of moments slipping through your fingers like sand. It felt like you were barely in your body, like you were watching yourself move from somewhere far away.

At some point, you ended up in the car.

You didn’t remember how you got there—whether someone guided you or if your feet had just carried you on their own. The only thing that mattered was that Spencer was with you.

The car was silent. The hum of the engine was distant, muffled, as if you were underwater.

Your hand was in Spencer’s, fingers entwined, his grip loose but persistent—like he was afraid to hold too tightly but even more afraid to let go. He leaned against you, head resting against your shoulder, his body barely moving. He didn’t speak. Didn’t shift. Didn’t react to anything around him.

He just clung to you. And you let him.

You didn’t break the quiet. What was there to say?

The words would have been hollow, anyway—useless against the enormity of what had almost happened.

Occasionally, a tear would escape, tracing a slow, burning path down your cheek. You didn’t wipe it away. You just pressed a kiss to the top of Spencer’s head, your lips lingering in his tousled hair, breathing him in like a reminder—he’s here, he’s alive.

And when his grip tightened, when his breath hitched almost imperceptibly, you murmured it into the space between you: "You’re safe now."

A promise. A plea. A prayer.

Spencer didn’t respond. But he held on a little tighter.

Hotch drove you to Spencer’s apartment in silence.

You managed to give him a small, strained smile as you stepped out of the car—though you weren’t entirely sure it even registered as one.

But Hotch understood. He always did. With a barely perceptible nod, he lingered just long enough to ensure you both made it inside before pulling away.

As you stepped inside, Spencer was still eerily quiet. His hand was still in yours—or maybe yours was in his. You weren’t entirely sure anymore. Neither of you had let go, and at this point, you weren’t sure who was holding onto whom.

The apartment felt different. Usually, it was a place of comfort. But tonight, it felt hollow.

You weren’t sure what to say, and honestly, you were afraid that if you tried, you’d break. That the moment words left your lips, you’d start sobbing, and you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop.

Instead, you focused on the mundane, the mechanical—the things you could control.

Gently, you helped him out of his dirt-streaked jacket, your fingers brushing over the fabric, lingering on the faint traces of dust and dried blood. Your throat tightened, but you swallowed it down, hanging the jacket up.

Tomorrow, you told yourself. Tomorrow, you’d wash it. Tomorrow, you’d erase the evidence of tonight.

“Do you want to take a shower?” you whispered. You weren’t sure why you whispered.

Spencer shook his head.

“Okay,” you murmured, soft as a sigh. “That’s fine.”

The paramedics had already taken care of his injuries, cleaned the gash on his forehead, patched up the cuts and bruises along his body. But they couldn’t do anything for the way he felt.

So you did the only thing you could. You took his hand again and gently pulled him toward the bedroom.

He didn’t resist. Didn’t say a word. Just followed.

Usually, you would have made a teasing remark about how cute it was that Spencer kept following you around.

Because he did—a lot.

Just last week, he had hovered around you the entire time you were making breakfast, standing so close that every time you turned, you nearly bumped into him. You had giggled, playfully nudging him away, but he had just smiled that shy little smile of his and stayed right where he was.

Now, the memory carved a hollow ache in your chest.

Because now, this wasn’t the same.

Now, he wasn’t following you because he wanted to be near you. He was following you because he needed to. Because if he let go, if he lost contact with you for even a second, he might slip away entirely.

You pulled one of his sweaters from the dresser. Turning, you found him standing too close, his hands clenched at his sides, still wearing the vest that smelled of gunpowder and damp earth.

"Can I?" you asked softly, fingers brushing the edge of the blood-red fabric.

Spencer's gaze flickered up to yours—just for a second—but it was enough. His lips trembled. His breath hitched.

Your hand was on his cheek before you could think, thumb swiping away a tear before it could fall.

That was all it took.

A shattered gasp tore from his throat, raw and broken, and then he was collapsing against you, his entire body wracked with sobs. You caught him without hesitation, arms locking around him as his knees gave way.

"I thought—" His voice was fractured, muffled against your shoulder. "He made me choose, and I—I couldn't—"

You cradled the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair.

Words poured out of him like a flood—Tobias's taunts, the cold press of the gun, the paralyzing fear of being forced to decide who lived or died. His hands clutched at your shirt as he spoke.

"I kept thinking of you," he choked out, the words raw and fractured. "If I died there—if you had to watch—"

You squeezed your eyes shut against the image, your stomach twisting violently. Just the thought of it—of seeing that live feed cut to static, of waiting for news that never came, of losing him in the cruelest way imaginable—made your hands tighten instinctively around him, as if you could physically shield him from the memory.

"Don't," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Please, don't—"

But he kept going, the words tumbling out like he'd been holding them back for hours. "I kept seeing your face. I kept thinking—God, I kept thinking about how you'd be the one they'd call. How you'd have to—" His breath hitched, a ragged sob tearing through him. "How you'd have to identify me."

A wounded noise escaped you before you could stop it. Your fingers curled into his hair, pressing yourself tighter against him as if you could fuse the horror out of him through sheer proximity.

"But you didn't," you said fiercely. "You're here. You're alive. You came back to me."

Spencer shuddered, his hands gripping your arms like a lifeline. "I almost didn't."

The quiet admission shattered something in you.

You pulled him closer, your lips pressing against his temple, his cheek, anywhere you could reach—as if you could kiss the pain out of him, as if you could rewrite the last few hours with nothing but your touch.

"But you did."

You swallowed back the sob clawing at your throat, pressing your lips together to keep it from escaping—but the tears came anyway, silent and relentless, spilling over as you carded your fingers through his hair.

Each stroke was a silent plea. I’m here. You’re safe. I’ve got you.

But the more you touched him—the more you felt the way his breath hitched under your palms, the way his shoulders trembled against you—the harder it became to hold yourself together.

His hand was still clinging to your clothes, fingers twisted into the fabric so tightly that you were sure the wrinkles in your shirt would never come out.

But as he continued speaking, something in the back of your mind stirred, and it hit you like a slap.

Spencer wasn’t sober yet.

The paramedics had warned you. They had told you that he wasn’t out of the woods yet. That the drugs still lingered in his system, and that within the next hour, he’d likely start feeling the withdrawals. His shaking wasn’t just from fear or trauma—it was the first signs of what was to come.

Spencer stopped talking.

His words trailed off before he got to the part where he’d killed Tobias Hankel.

He was so shaky in your arms now, and you could feel the tension in his muscles, like he was about to collapse, like his body couldn’t handle any more of this. You weren’t even entirely sure how you were managing to hold him up. Your own legs felt weak, your arms trembling from the strain, but you kept him steady, keeping him as close to you as you could.

You stayed the entire night. Not that you could sleep anyway.

He was still in your arms when you went to bed, his body trembling against you, and you were doing your best to stay calm. Your hand continued to gently brush through his hair, a small, consistent motion that, in some way, calmed both of you. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his body was fighting against the withdrawal.

The withdrawals were bad. Worse than you had imagined.

Spencer was trying so hard. You could see it in his face—tight with strain, eyes glazed with discomfort, tears streaking down his face, though he didn’t make a sound. His body was shaking uncontrollably now.

The tears that streaked down his cheeks broke something inside of you. But you didn’t let go. You wiped them away with your thumb, whispering soft reassurances even though you weren’t sure if he could hear you, even though you weren’t sure if they made a difference.

It was hard. Watching him go through this, knowing how much pain he was in. How much more he still had to face.

But you also knew that if he could fight through this, even just tonight, it would mean everything.

The night stretched on like that.

One moment he was burning up, his skin fever-hot beneath your palms. The next, he was shaking violently. You smoothed back his damp hair, murmuring nonsense comforts against his temple as he curled into you, his fingers digging into your waist.

"I'm here," you whispered for what felt like the hundredth time, pressing a kiss to his head. "You're doing so good, Spencer. So good."

Somewhere around 3 AM, he'd stopped fighting consciousness.

The moment his body finally gave out had been both heartbreaking and relieving - his muscles going slack all at once, his head lolling heavily against your shoulder. You'd adjusted carefully, shifting just enough to pull the blanket over his shaking limbs without disturbing him.

Now, with morning creeping through the blinds, you studied the way the light caught on the healing cut above his eyebrow, the bruises along his jawline turning from angry purple to dull yellow at the edges. Your thumb hovered over them, not touching, just tracing the air above the evidence of his suffering.

You watched the way his eyelashes fluttered with dreams you hoped weren't violent, the way his lips parted slightly with each exhale.

You shifted slightly, adjusting your position. His fingers, even in sleep, twitched against the fabric of your shirt, as if making sure you were still there.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, watching over him, listening to his breaths as morning slowly filled the room.

Eventually, you felt yourself start to drift, your exhaustion finally catching up to you.

But just before sleep could pull you under, Spencer stirred. His voice was barely audible, hoarse from everything his body had endured.

“…You’re still here?”

The words were so soft, so vulnerable, that they nearly shattered you.

You tightened your hold on him, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple.

“Always,” you whispered.

And with that, he sighed—a slow, tired sound yet filled with relief.

The road back to normal wasn’t easy—not by a long shot. If anything, there were more nights like that one than you could’ve prepared for.

Nights filled with restless sleep, quiet tears, and Spencer clinging to you like you were the only thing tethering him to reality. Healing didn’t come in a straight line.

But slowly—so slowly—it got better.

There were mornings when he smiled before he even opened his eyes. Afternoons when you caught him humming to himself while flipping through one of his worn-out paperbacks. Little things.

Beautiful, quiet victories.

And then, one day, without thinking, you found yourself teasing him again when he followed you from room to room like a lost puppy—hovering behind you as you made coffee, bumping into you in the hallway, trailing your every step just to stay close.

He blushed, like he always did, and mumbled something about spatial awareness. But when you laughed and tugged him close, he smiled for real—soft and shy, but full of something that hadn’t been there for a long time.

Hope.

[bluemoviegirl]

UNDER THE SAME SUN

joel miller x reader

summary: After a year of surviving alone in a brutal world, you finally find refuge in Jackson, Wyoming—but adjusting to community life proves just as challenging as the horrors outside. When you’re assigned to work with the town’s most gruff and unapproachable man (who happens to be really attractive, you'd never admit this though), Joel Miller, the two of you clash instantly. But as tensions rise and walls begin to crack, you realize there’s more beneath his hardened exterior and he sees sides of you he'd never expected—and maybe, just maybe, he’s exactly what you need to feel alive again.

wc: 4.1k

a/n: hii im rosa, really excited to share my first fic with you guys!! please comment what you thought of it. i'm still working on where i'll take the story so if you've got any cool ideas do let me know! <3

It’s about 20 years since the world fell. You’ve been through hell, as has everyone of course. After wandering alone for a year, you finally made it to Jackson, Wyoming—a place whispered about in rumors as a well-fortified, truly safe settlement. Survival had taken its toll, and after so much time alone, you’d grown accustomed to talking to yourself—or, at times, forgetting to speak altogether.

Now, two months in, adjusting to life among real people has been... an experience. The first month, you barely left your home, more focused on settling in than socializing. Not that anyone could tell—you hadn’t made the place feel like yours in any way. Your small one-bedroom apartment was as bare as the day you arrived, furnished only with the essentials. A functioning kitchen, a hot shower (which felt like the biggest luxury of all), a somewhat comfortable couch, and a simple king-sized bed with a closet across from it. It was enough.

Tommy Miller one of the community's leaders, came by to visit a few times the first month. Just checking in on you and bringing over things like soap and firewood. It was time for you to get out there and you knew it. Honestly you thought going to sleep every night would’ve been harder, with PTSD and all. But the bed was comfortable and you just snoozed away every night. That’s just nights though, during the day, when you were more alone with your thoughts, it became difficult. It's why you forced yourself to socialize with others. Else you’d get real bad anxiety doing just about anything. The thoughts of being back out in the infected world would come rushing in and you’d feel like you failed them all over again. That was in the past, why can’t you just forget about it? You tried to pick one of your old hobbies back up a week ago; drawing. But it didn’t last long before you started sketching the infected and that freaked you out so much you had thrown your notebook into the fireplace.

Today felt different, it was the end of November and it felt like another fresh start. You had made a couple of friends, which to your surprise, was something that actually came easily to you. So you decided to go to the bar. Not much for the drinks but for the vibe, all the people gathered together, laughing, chatting. It felt unreal it made you feel a joy you hadn’t felt in a while. So you came there often, quickly befriending the bartender, Knox. He was a big tough guy, probably around 60. His long beard had a thin braid in it which always made you wonder whether he braided it or if he had someone waiting for him at home. He didn’t speak much about himself though, always chatting away with everyone about anything and everything. Knox would sneak you an extra drink here and there if you laughed at his jokes hard enough.

You had felt a bit embarrassed going back to the Workshop to ask if they could get you a new sketchbook twice in the same week but you really wanted to get back into drawing. But now you were sat at the bar, slightly hunched over your sketchbook and you were doodling away. Nothing major or complete but at least the drawing was actually calming you a bit. A couple people had stopped by to chat with you and you soon felt as if you already belonged here. It wasn’t long until most of the bar stools were all occupied.

You’d noticed Tommy Miller taking a seat, two barstools from you. He was swirling his glass a bit, not looking particularly joyful but not too worrying. You contemplated making small talk but you were feeling like a social butterfly today.  “Hey, Tommy.” You said as you put down your pencil and closed your sketchbook. He looked up from his glass at you as he smiled. “Oh, hey! Didn’t see you there.” You shook your head, your hair had covered up your face from the side as it had fallen over your shoulder so of course he didn’t. You tucked your hair behind your ear and tugged a bit at your earlobe, a habit you always had when talking to people. Nervous tick you’ve done since you were little. You smiled back at him. “That’s okay. How are you and Maria?” When you just arrived at Jackson, you had taken a mental note that Tommy and Maria Miller were a married couple. They’re both community leaders and you thought it to be cute. Did they know each other before, or did they meet after? It gave you a sliver of hope that maybe things would work out like that for you too. Tommy’s eyes immediately light up a bit.

“We’re good, yeah. Real good. And you? I haven’t, uh, seen ya much around.” You felt a bit of a flush coming on your face, feeling a bit embarrassed with how anti-social you’d been for two months.

 “Yeah sorry- I was settling in. Getting used to all this-“

 You motioned to the place around you. He chuckled back at you.

“F’Course, it’s somethin’ to get used to, that’s damn sure.”  

We had a moment of silence, both not knowing what to say or whether we’d turn back to our own business.

 “I’ve heard good things about ya already. You must be leaving good impressions on people huh.”

He tells you, as he sips his beer.

“Oh, that’s good to hear. I mean, I try. Being alone for a year with no one to talk to, means I can barely stop yappin’ now that there’s actual people that’ll listen.” You chuckled before asking him a question.

 “I was actually wondering, when I could get started on a job here? I would really like to give back to the community.”

 You’ve been wanting to give back to the community since you arrived, feeling guilty eating their food, using their hot water when you’ve given nothing in return.

 “Oh yeah, we got plenty to do around here. It’s really your pick but, I don’t know if you’re handy but we could use your help on repair. We’re a man short-”

 “I’d love to help.”

 He looked you up and down, you didn’t really look like you’d be good with a hammer. Besides from maybe, smashing in an infected head.. But it couldn’t be that hard. Yes, you did look like the typical girl, you still wore your jewelry from before the apocalypse which consisted of 2 rings on each hand, a couple bracelets and a locket necklace that always hung around your neck, you weren’t particularly buff looking and people would probably peg you as a flowers and baking type but you didn’t mind living up to that stereotype. Before Tommy could continue the conversation, Tommy’s head turned to the entrance door.

“Speaking of things in need of a fixin’.” Tommy grinned as he watched his friend walk in.

The man stepped in with his broad shoulders and a steady, purposeful gait. His dark hair, was peppered with gray at the temples, and a scruffy beard covered his jaw. His eyes, a deep brown, scanned the room with a quiet intensity, as if constantly assessing everything around him. His worn jeans and flannel shirt were well-suited to the rugged life he'd lived, and his stance—confident but reserved—made it clear he wasn’t someone to be easily approached.

"Joel," Tommy greets him, and the man offers a curt nod in return. You watch as Tommy claps him on the back, and they share a brief conversation as the man takes the stool next to yours. His back is to you, he didn’t glance your way. Joel.

You go back to your sketchbook, feeling a bit dismissed. But then you hear Tommy mentioning your name to Joel. “You two met yet?” Tommy looks at me and back at Joel. You shook your head no as you reached out to shake Joel’s hand. He sure took his sweet time to turn and shake yours back. He glanced at you for a moment before looking back at Tommy, obviously wondering where Tommy’s going with this. You couldn’t deny it though, the man was attractive. Maybe a good bit older than you- wait, why are you even thinking about the age difference.. Maybe it’s been too long since you’ve actually seen a man that caught your eyes.

“I was just tellin’ her we needed another set of hands for repair. She said she’s up for it.” Tommy said to Joel. “M’fine doin’ it myself.” Joel said, shooting down Tommy’s idea. And yours as well, you were perfectly capable of helping with a repair. Tommy shook his head no, “I ain’t letting you go to the outpost by yourself. We have rules here, y’know that.” Joel seemed well familiar with the rules as he gave no emotion back besides a slight frown. Joel turned to you and glanced you up and down quickly, his eyes either lingering shortly on your chest, or the gold locket you had hanging around your neck.

“You sure you capable?”

“Yeah I-“

“Y’know how to use a rifle?”

The interruption surprised you and you must’ve taken too long to answer cause Joel filled in the answer for himself.

“M’ fine doin’ it myself.” Joel said as he turned back to Tommy, who was rolling his eyes. You weren’t great with rifles really, always hated using guns. You were good with a bat, which sounded a bit silly so you stayed quiet. “Just go together tomorrow morning, scope out the place and see if you guys are able to get some work in. She’s tougher than she looks.” Tommy said, smiling to you. You appreciated him sticking up for you but it also made you feel a bit weak.

Normally you would’ve let it go, you’d have found another job to do. But something about this Joel guy, and the stoic demeanor he gave, it annoyed you. Like you needed to proof yourself, which made you feel even sillier. Proof yourself to a man? Please. But maybe, you and Joel could get along and he just needed some warming up to. You were a tad low on the friend department anyway.

---------

Though the next morning, you regretted even thinking that. It started with gathering the horses. You weren’t able to get up on your horse, and he just sat on his horse, watching you struggle. When you finally got up, you swore you saw a slight curl tugged at the corner of his lips but it disappeared as soon as you went to look again.

You two were riding next to each other in mostly silence. You had spoken a few times but would never get a response. The only sounds you could hear were the horses and the snow crunching underneath their hooves. Should you make small talk again?  You were someone who could talk anyone’s ears off but Joel didn’t exactly give off the vibe that he’d be open to that.

“So how do you know Tommy?” You say, the words spitting out before you were even done deciding.

Joel didn’t look at you as he replied.

“Was at his birth.”

You knitted your brows and stared at his face which just had a blank expression on them, opposite of yours cause that answer had your gears turning. At his birth? What?? Your silence said enough to Joel, you didn’t get it.

 “Tommy’s my brother.” ... “Oh.”

“You always this chatty?” Joel muttered. “You always this grumpy?” you shot back.

You felt annoyed that that was the only reply you could come up with. “Did you just make a joke?” You grinned just the tiniest bit, was Joel Miller making jokes? The man who had been riding his horse silently for an hour and didn’t even glance your way once?

“Didn’t think you had that in you.” You commented.

Joel’s hands tightened briefly on the reins, but he didn’t say anything. You could’ve sworn the corner of his mouth twitched. His brows knitted together ever so slightly as he glanced to you and back to the road ahead.

“So how much longer?”

 Joel didn’t answer.

“What are we even repairing?”

Still no reply. When you’ve given up on small talk he finally replies to your question.

 “Floorboards of one of the outposts.”

 “Ah, is it moldy or something?”

 “No.” His voice was flat, almost bored.

“They warped?” “No.” “Well, something’s wrong with ‘em if we’re going all the way out here.” He sighed like this was the last conversation he wanted to be having. “Just needed fixin’.” “Vague and unhelpful. Got it.

Y’know,” You hear Joel sigh again when you start a new sentence. “I had that a while ago, the cabin me and- the cabin I was staying in, the entire floor started warping cause, I assume, water damage? Mold? I don’t even know. I once tripped over them badly, hit my face so hard I still have the scar.”

You were rambling, he made you nervous. You didn’t get why, you met the man yesterday and he’d maybe looked at you like, 3 times all together. Yet you still wanted to chat with him, maybe even see what he’d look like if he ever smiled.

“The scar at the end of your eyebrow.”

He spoke before thinking, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he froze for just for split second before going back to regular Joel, you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t already staring at him. The detail he mentioned was really specific—something he'd only know if he'd actually observed you right? A brief look of regret crossed his face, and he seemed to wish he hadn't said it at all. Maybe the scar was just that obvious. It was tiny though, just at the end of your brow, a little above it. It was a scar that blended in with your face, your hair usually covering it anyway. You remember the aching pain you had for days every time you’d move your eyebrows, which was something you did a lot. You were always very expressive.

“Yea. Didn’t think it was that noticeable.” You reply softly as you rub the back of your neck.

“It isn’t.”  His voice firm.

It isn’t. Yet, he noticed it even though he’s barely looked you in the eyes. You shake off the thought.

---------

You two finally arrived at the outpost. The outpost was a small, rugged place, tucked away on the edge of the wilderness. Wooden walls creaked in the wind, patched up with scrap metal and makeshift barriers.  There was a worn-down feeling to the place—like it had seen its share of hard days. You both hitched your horses and you waited for Joel to lead. He stayed vigilant, like he was the entire ride, checking every corner, making sure nothing slipped past him—especially any signs of infected.

“Gather some of the wood.”

He said, nudging his head to the pile of wood a couple feet away.

“Yes boss.”

 You mumbled quietly as you rolled my eyes, stuffing the urge to mockingly salute him. Joel had entered the outpost and you followed shortly after you bring the wood outside the outpost, not knowing what you’d walk into.

“Watch your step.” Is what you heard seconds before slipping and falling into Joel’s arms.

As you slipped over something wet, and stumbled backward, you felt his hands instinctively reach out to catch you. One hand gripped your arm, steadying you, while the other slid around your waist, pulling you against him. Your heart raced as his touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary, fingers pressing firmly into the curve of her back. The close proximity made your breath hitch. “Shit!” You yelped. You had almost fallen completely backwards, which would’ve been okay if there wasn’t a smashed in infected body behind you.

“I said, watch your step.” Joel said, a bit softer  but still annoyed.

 Your hands had gripped Joels arm when he had wrapped it around your waist when you slipped. As you realize the two of you were still entangled, you quickly stood up and Joel let you go as he cleared his throat.

“I didn’t expect there to be a pool of blood and a literal infected.” You said, not glancing at the infected, you hated seeing them.

“Yeah, must’ve forgot to mention it.” Joel replies gruffly.

Douchebag.

 You now got a chance to really look at the interior. It wasn’t much. You finally understood why the floor needed repairing, the wood was split and to your surprise, very warped.

“The wood is warped.” You say, crossing your arms, remembering Joel said no when you asked if it was warped. He just didn’t want you to be right, did he? Jackass. He just shrugged as he kneeled down, he starts lifting some of the floorboards. It doesn’t take much for them to release from the ground, so it seems.

“Shouldn’t we get rid of the infected body first?”

“Be my guest.”

You scoffed at his reply. You really didn’t want to get near it but you also didn’t want it stinking up the place even further. You sigh, extra loud, turning your head to Joel to make sure he heard you. He ignores it.

You decide on grabbing a shovel and shoving the infected away.  You noticed Joel raising a brow when he turned to look at what you were doing, but he soon turned back and said nothing as he continued removing the floor. After what felt like ages, you got the infected body out and cleaned up the area.

“How’d the infected get in here?” You said as you walked towards Joel’s eyesight.

“Dave was here a couple days back. Managed to kill the infected before realizing the man himself was already bit.” Joel said, he spoke calmly about this Dave, as if he didn’t care as to whether the guy would live or die.

“So where’d Dave go after he was bit? Seeing I’ve only dragged one-” You motioned the number one with your finger, “-body out of this place.”

Joel looked up at you, clenching his jaw for a moment.

“Dead. Now, are you going to help remove any of the floorboards or gonna continue chattin’ my ears off?”

You weren’t even saying that much.

“Yeah yeah, calm your horses.” You mumbled.

 Joel narrowed his eyes before going back to the floorboards. You walk to the other end of the room, and decide to start there. You roll up your sleeves, ready to show you’re actually capable of doing stupid repair. You grip one end of the floorboard and pull it up, as hard as you can. But there’s no movement, like, at all.

For a second you feel like you’re on a prank show, you glance over to Joel who had lifted at least half of the floorboards out already. Yet you weren’t strong enough to even lift one? Come on. You kept pulling, teeth gritting, muscles (what muscles?) flexing. Yes, you had survived being by yourself in the apocalypse for over a year but you never really grew very strong muscle. You survived by being careful and quiet, not looking for the danger, so you rarely fought.

 “Fucks sake.”

 You grunt, sitting on the floor and looking over at Joel, who was already looking your way.

“What’re you doin’? I ain’t got all day.”

“I’m trying!”

Joel mumbled something as he walked over.

“Move.”

 He said as he started gripping the floorboard where you were holding it. Joel was being tough but when he couldn’t get the floorboard to budge either, you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah yeah, mr. Strong. Lift it up then.” You grinned.

His narrowed eyes met yours briefly before turning back. He was obviously using all his strength to attempt to get it out.

“You’re gonna pull a muscle.” You say, making sure to fit another jab in there to annoy him.

You enjoyed it a bit too much, seeing him struggle after he so obviously judged you for not being able to lift it.

Just when you laugh a little too hard, the floorboard suddenly pops out, of course, hitting you in the head and causing Joel to stumble a bit. “Fuck!” You, who was previously sat, is now laying back, leaning on your elbows as the floorboard had just hit your forehead real hard. Your hand immediately rose up to your forehead and you looked back at your fingers. Blood. Joel’s eyes widened a bit, obviously not meaning to do that.

 “My bad.” He mumbles, in a gruff acknowledgement.

He kneeled a bit closer to you as you sat back up, he was looking at the wound, both your faces just inches apart. You had a little wound on the left side of your forehead, yes it was bleeding and yes it might look bad, but it wasn’t anything worth worrying about, Joel thought so at least. He was inspecting the wound but didn’t look worried. He honestly looked like he couldn’t care less.

“Is it bad?”

“S’fine. You’ll live.” He said before standing back up, and walking to his bag. He walks back with a band-aid. It’ll have to do for now. You take it from his hand, your fingers grazing. “It’s getting late, we’re headin’ back.” 

You nod as you felt your forehead throbbing. You felt the urge to cry, you didn’t but you wanted to. Today was just a shitty day and you’d spent it with a shitty man.

On the ride back to the settlement, you were quiet. Thinking about how today felt like a bit of a fail, you had gotten like 2 floorboards out and the rest was done by Joel while you had sat there with a throbbing forehead. So much for proving yourself.

--

Joel and Tommy were sat at the bar, their usual spot if they had something to discuss.

“Y’need to get me another partner for the repair.” Joel said before taking a gulp of beer.

Tommy just looked at Joel in a way of saying: ‘Seriously’?

“M’serious. She keeps on talking a mile a minute. Can’t even focus without her asking some annoyin’ questions”

Tommy finally let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. “She really that bad, or is it just you bein’ you?”

Joel shot him a look.

“Pretty face, empty head Tommy, I’m tellin’ you.” Joel has his elbows leaning on the bar as he looks down at his glass and back up at Tommy.

“I’d love to relieve you of your ‘torture’ but I ain’t got anyone to fill her shoes right now. After losing Dave like that- Not many people are willin’.”

“People are scared ‘cause one man died from an infected? You’ve softened them up.”

“Dave wasn’t just ‘one man.’ He was a good leader. People trusted him. And now he’s gone. You should know better than anyone what that kind of loss does to people.” Tommy says, obviously feeling the impact it left on him when Dave died. Joel clenched his jaw but didn’t argue.

Dave was one of the community leaders, known to be real good around infected. So when he died, it scared folks.

 “You’re doin’ another repair job with her, whether you wanna or not. It’s a week from now, Maria said it’d be a good idea if you actually tried to get to know her. She’s more than a ‘pretty face’ and who knows, you might actually like her.” Tommy said, putting emphasis on Joel’s previous ‘pretty face’ comment, a cheeky smirk tugging at Tommy’s lips.

Joel let out a dry, humorless laugh.

Tommy smirked, clearly enjoying this too much. “Alright, fine. Maybe not like her. But at least tolerate her.”

Joel scoffed as he gave Tommy a narrowing glance as Joel chucked the last bit of beer down before standing up.

“Doubt that.”

And with that, he grabbed his jacket and walked out, already dreading next week.

[saweetdolly]

⊹₊⟡⭒˚.⋆ " 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐎 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋"

pairing ~ thanos / choi su-bong x f!reader

warnings ~ 18+ minors dni, dirty talk, phone sex, praising, masturbation, thanos wants that cookie so effing bad, oral (both receiving), facial, mentions of drug consumption, dom!thanos & sub!reader

summary ~ a facetime call between you and your bestfriend escalates into more when you start reminiscing about past occurrences

wc ~ 2.8k

a/n ~ hii babies! i've seen all your requests and i'm so excited to write them for you, so please be patient and i promise i'll get to all of them! i'm currently posting all my drafts so enjoyy this longgg thanos smut cause he's sexy asf >.< and all my rauw girlies recognize this title :3 rmb to eat and drink ur water babies!

your phone continuously buzzed as the facetime notification lit up the screen, the name "su-bong" appearing. you had just gotten out of the shower and it was no surprise that your bestfriend was already calling you, most likely checking your location and seeing you were home.

you wasted no time in answering the phone, setting it up on the counter. su-bongs face appeared on the screen. his purple hair was in its usual messy state and a goofy smile adorned his face. "heyyy señorita" he says in a sing-song voice, and you immediately cringe at the nickname. "ew su-bong. you need to cut that out." you say, applying a bit of moisturizer on your face. he shrugs as he takes a hit of his vape, fixing his position so his head is resting on his arm whilst his other hand holds the phone.

minutes felt like hours as he rambled about some pills namgyu had given him while you were getting into bed, your eyes rolling at his boring choice of topic for a conversation. "i don't even know why you still take those pills. they're so wack." you say, pulling the sheets over your body and settling your head down on your pillow. "that's not what you thought the last time we took them." he says in a matter-of-fact tone, and you knew exactly what he was implying. "your point being?" you ask, pretending to be clueless. you knew you had to talk about it at some point; that one night su-bong invited you over.

it was a windy and cold friday night in seoul, and the walk back to your apartment had you wishing the ground would eat you alive from how stressed you were. having just gotten out of work after taking an extra shift for your "sick" co-worker, you picked up your phone and called su-bong, knowing that he knew just how to make you feel better.

the phone rang once and he immediately picked up. you put the phone to your ear, being unable to control the smile taking over your lips. "hey thanos. you awake?" you ask, using the nickname you gave him when he decided to drunkenly dye his hair purple. he lets out a low laugh, exhaling whatever he was smoking before answering. "yeah, you gonna come over?" he asks, and your answer comes out of your mouth before you can even think about it. "on my way."

upon arriving at su-bongs apartment, he was already trying to convince you to take something with him. you slid your jacket off, throwing it somewhere on the ground. you sighed as you sat on the couch, mentally thanking su-bong for wasting so much money on what was probably one of the softest couches you've ever sat on.

"come onnnn it'll be fun. please?" he begged, eagerly sitting down next to you. you allowed his request to enter your mind. you probably just needed a nap but who makes rational decisions when they're stressed? nobody..right?

"i don't know su, i feel so tired and stressed and everything is just so much." you say. he sighs as he takes off his necklace, opening the cross and showing you the pills. "please?" he pleads. you stare silently before he speaks again. "i promise it'll relieve your stress. just do this with me." you stare at him before nodding slowly, a teethy smile appearing on his face. "good choice baby. here, pick one." he says, offering the open cross to you.

you pick up a pink pill, heart racing as you look back up at su-bong. he pops a blue pill into his mouth, sending you an encouraging nod so you'd do the same. you place the pill on your tongue, thinking your heart would shoot out of your chest from how hard it was pounding as you swallowed. "now sit back and enjoy it." su-bong says, and you turn your head to look at him.

a wave of heat washed through your body as you analyzed his face. his head was resting on the back of the couch, his lips were slightly parted, heavy breaths leaving them. his eyes were closed as he manspread, resting his hands on his lap. you couldn't brush off every thought that was coming to your mind as your eyes trailed down to his lap, suddenly feeling hot inside. this had to be the drug taking its effect, right? sure you always found su-bong attractive, but he was your best friend. he was your best friend who you practically had to babysit because of his stupid actions, your best friend who defended you against your high school bully, min-ji, your best friend who was constantly throwing hints at you and you never even noticed.

"su-bong." you quietly called out to him. he let out a low hum as he opened his eyes, turning his head to look at you. whatever you did next you'll forever blame on the pill. you lunged forward, grabbing onto his face and pressing your lips on his. su-bongs eyes widened as his hands flew to your hips. he closed his eyes, and you felt him smile as he kissed you back. your mouths slowly moved in sync as you sat back, your hands resting on his shoulders. su-bong softly bit on your bottom lip, taking an opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth when you let out a low moan. your tongues slowly wrestled together and you felt yourself get soaked with arousal. his hands massaged your hips and he broke the kiss, his pretty eyes staring into yours. you slowly look down and between you, a raging boner peeking out of his pajama pants. your body suddenly felt hot and sweaty, your name leaving his lips in a quiet whisper. you pushed him back slightly and your hands trembled as you grabbed the hem of your shirt. su-bong stared into your chest as you slowly slid your shirt off, eyes dark with lust and pupils blown from the drug. he got on his knees, eyes never leaving your chest. you reached behind your back and un-did the clasp of your bra, letting the material slowly slide off your body and onto your lap.

su-bong thought he was in heaven given the sight in front of him. you quickly threw your bra aside and su-bong lunged forward, lips latching onto your neck and his hands on your breasts. you let out a soft moan when you felt him leave little marks on your neck, his head moving lower with every kiss. "fuuuck baby, never thought i'd see these in front of me like this." he whispered. your hands went to his head, massaging his scalp as he slowly latched his mouth on your left nipple, sucking and licking the soft nub. your eyes squeezed shut, the sensation feeling way stronger due to the drug.

he moved to your other nipple, tugging it softly with his teeth then sucking. "o-oh fuck don't stop su." you managed to whimper out, your underwear damp with your arousal. su-bong let out a low laugh as he moved lower, hands fumbling with the button on your pants. "relax pretty, we haven't gotten to the best part yet." he teased, a goofy smile plastered on his face. you breathed heavily as you watched him pull your pants and panties off in one swift motion, a loud gasp leaving you when his mouth latched onto your clit.

his hands snaked under your thighs, pulling you closer to him as he harshly sucked and licked at your clit. "oh god su-bong don't stop." you moaned, hands flying to his hair and tugging at the purple strands. he groaned into your pussy, tongue moving up and down collecting your wetness. "fuck you taste so fucking good." he groaned, tongue plunging in and out of your hole. tears filled your vision as you legs shook violently with pleasure. you threw your head back when you felt him spit on your clit, his lips suckling and licking the wet bud. "pussy tastes so good baby, fuck. can't get enough." you moaned at his words, your hands massaging his scalp as he lifted his head. su-bongs chin was covered in your wetness, his lips dripping with your sweet honey.

"m'close." you moaned, biting your lip at the sight of your best friend eating you out. he hurriedly flicked his tongue from side to side at your statement, keeping his pattern of focusing on both your hole and clit consistent. you felt your abdomen tighten, his living room flooding with your moans and your back arching off the couch.. he moaned and groaned into your pussy, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body. and then, you felt it. the coil in your stomach snapped and you choked on your moans as a wave of pleasure overtook your body, eyes squeezing shut and tears slipping out of them. su-bongs tongue moved rapidly across your pussy as you rode out your high, legs shaking violently and your hips bucking into his face.

you swallowed thickly as you looked down, pussy drenched in your arousal and su-bongs saliva. he licked his lips as he stood up, closing your legs and pulling you into a heated kiss, his hands massaging your thighs. your hands snaked down his boxers, gasping into the kiss when your thumb massaged his leaking tip. su-bong broke the kiss to pull his pajama pants down, cock springing free. you stood up and pushed him onto the couch, watching him manspread as you got on your knees. you spit on your hand, bringing it to his pulsing cock. you wrapped your hand around it and slowly pumped up and down, his angry tip oozing out pre-cum at the action. "yes baby fuck, just like that." he groaned. you smiled up at him, your eyes giving him the "fuck me" stare as you wrapped your lips around his tip. he inhaled sharply at the action, his hand making a makeshift ponytail for your hair. you sucked on his tip softly, watching how his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure.

"keep going baby, atta girl." he moaned. you slowly enveloped him into your mouth, holding back gags as your nose hit his pubes. you moved your mouth back up to his tip, sticking your tongue out and kitten-licking his tip. "you're such a good girl baby, fuck. who knew you suck dick so good." he groaned, his head falling back and he pushed your head back down onto his cock. the living room filled with gags and chokes as you bobbed your head up and down, tongue licking the underside of his cock in the process. your name left his lips in hurried breaths as you sucked on his cock hungrily, his salty taste becoming addicting. your left hand moved to grab his balls while your right hand wrapped around his base, pumping in sync with your mouth.

"fucking hell." he inhaled sharply and he hurriedly pulled you off his cock, his hand harshly tugging your head back by your hair. "stick your tongue out for me baby." he grunted as he pumped his cock in front of your face, watching you stick your tongue out. "such a good fucking slut. look at you on your knees for me." he groaned, taking in your sweaty and fucked-out form. hot spurts of cum shot out of his tip, coating your face in his milky release. you smiled as you swallowed the cum that landed on your tongue, a low whimper of your name leaving his lips.

you heard some rustling and su-bong came back with a wet cloth, wiping his cum off your face. you opened your eyes and stared at each other before erupting into a fit of laughter, the aftermath of what you just did processing in your mind. he lifted you up off the floor and onto the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pushing your naked, sweaty body into his side. you laid there together, fingers intertwined and breathing in sync, basking in the afterglow of the intimate moment you just shared, the drugs effect still heavy in your system.

"you remember, right?" su-bong asked, pulling you out of your trance and back to the call. "y-yeah i remember. how could i not." you laughed, feeling the same warm wave of pleasure wash through your body. "i miss it, you know." he said, inhaling sharply after taking a hit of his vape. "you miss what?" you ask. you knew exactly what he was talking about, you just wanted to hear him say it. the night haunted you every single day afterwards, flashbacks of the way he sucked feverishly on your clit, or how sexy he looked with his eyebrows furrowed while you sucked on his cock replaying in your mind. you had avoided him for a week due to those flashbacks, not being able to bring yourself to respond to any of his texts or calls.

"that night." he finally responds. you nod slowly in agreement, pulling the sheets off your body due to the heat you felt. "i miss it too, su." you say, studying his face on your screen. he pauses, a comfortable silence taking over the call, before he speaks again. "can i show you how much i miss it?" he asks, a knowing grin plastered on his face. a blush consumes your cheeks and your speechless, his question catching you off guard. su-bong smirks proudly at the fact he gets you flustered so easily. "don't get all shy on me now baby. you were so hungry for this cock just last week!" he teases. "shut up!" you exclaim, the redness on your face becoming more evident. with a new boost of confidence and a pool of arousal in your panties, you sit up on your bed and lift your shirt, flashing him. a giggle leaves your lips as you pull your shirt back down, watching su-bongs face go from cocky to flustered. he groans before pointing the camera to a lower angle, his cock appearing on the screen. precum oozed from his tip, his face contorted in pleasure in the background as he stroked himself.

"c'mon baby don't leave me hanging now, show me something." he groans, pumping his cock at a slow pace. you bit your lip at his words, your mind clouded with lust. placing your phone down on your blankets, you slid your pajama pants and panties down your legs. your anxiety reached a new height as you grabbed your phone, spreading your legs and showing him the pretty sight between them. su-bong sharply inhales at the sight on his screen, pumping his cock faster. your pussy glistened with arousal, your pretty hole practically oozing with your wetness.

"touch yourself for me." he grunts, and you immediately obey, sliding your hands between your legs. your warm fingers circle your clit and you gasp, the action sending shocks of pleasure through your body. "just like that baby fuuuuck, good girl." he moans. "go lower." and once again, you obey. moving your fingers lower and lower until your middle finger is prodding at your soaked entrance. you push your finger in, back arching at the intrusion. su-bongs cock makes wet noises as he pumps himself faster, whimpers of your name leaving his lips. "feels so good, su." you moan, adding your ring finger and pumping them in and out of you slowly. "i know baby- fuck you're such a good slut for me." he moans. you match his pace as you pump your fingers faster, your moans echoing off the walls in your room. "su- fuck feels so good. i'm so close." you moan, your back arching off the bed.

"cum with me." he moans, watching how your creamy arousal oozes out of your hole. "f-fuck yes." you gasp, watching his face in the background as he stares at your pussy on his screen. su-bong groans loudly as he spills himself onto his hand, strings of cum coating it. you whine at the sight. the barrier in your abdomen snapping and a wave of hot pleasure coursing over your entire body. you rode out your orgasms together, bodies covered in sweat. slowly, you pulled your fingers out of your sensitive hole, and su-bong couldn't help but watch how pretty your pussy looked covered in your creamy release. you brought the camera to your face, sucking your own slick off your fingers. "don't do that baby. don't think i can go another round right now." he groaned playfully. you giggled as you got up, grabbing a new pair of panties and getting dressed again. when you came back from the bathroom after washing your hands, su-bong had his phone propped up on his bathroom counter, washing his own hands. you watched him quietly, a smile on your face as you got into your bed, pulling your sheets over your body.

moments of the call replayed in your head as you tried to sleep, a rush of excitement lingering in your heart. you knew this wouldn't be the last time this would happen, given su-bongs flirty and persistent personality (and how desperate he is for your attention). but you had to admit you were content with the fact that he desired you so badly, and deep down you knew you needed him just as much.

∧,,,∧ (  ̳• · • ̳) /    づ♡ mwuah!

click here!

[darlingxs-blog]

Hii! I just want to let you know that your soul bond series is good!! I like that you established the boys as demons first and how the soulbond came into existence. I feel like it’s more real! Like yea they were demons! I really enjoy your writing!! Can’t wait for chpt 3!!

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

A glitch in the system ig

Chapter 03 - "Soulbound" Saja Boys x Reader"

CW- this chapter does not fit the theme for the rest of the story, sorry sorry!!

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you wake up to find yourself resting on a broken in couch, cushions made of a filling that has chunks ripped out of it in some places. At least the cotton cover is comfortable.

When you peak your eyes open you notice the water stained coffee table with all sorts of junk covering the surface, and to the left of you is a couch rotated at a ninety degree angle, a girl with obviously dyed hair rests on it while tapping her foot to the beat of the music that is softly pouring from the TV's sound bar.

She seems to notice you when she reaches for the monster can on the coaster.

She smiles and sits up straight to wave before laying against the two pillows that are resting on the couches arm. "Hiya! I'm Bridgette! The author."

Before you can say anything She speaks up again.

"Well, I guess I can't really be calling myself an author since to you this isn't a book...meh whatever I'm whatever you want to call me." She flips over to lay on her stomach while waving her hand dismissively at nothing.

"You are currently in my living room! This is where I do most of the very important work. Unless it's nighttime, then I do it in my bedroom but trust me you do not want to be in there."

She grabs the tall pink can and takes a sip before returning her attention back to you.

"I hope you don't mind me doing this, I just wanted to talk a little bit more about what's happening but I couldn't find a way to fit it in the story and have it make sense. Seriously, I tried."

"Well you haven't clicked off yet so I'll assume it's A-ok to explain it like this."

"Okay so you now have a bond with the Saja Boys, you are aware of that right?" Again she flips over to lay on her back while turning her head to look at me while she talks.

I nod and that triggers another spew of ramblings.

"Perfect! So basically humans can't bond with demons, cause well demons don't have souls and a bond is the connection of two souls butt before the Saja Boys became demons they have already made a bond with other people."

"Don't worry, they don't matter. They are already dead since like the Saja Boys have been alive for a really long time..."

The emphasis on the 'really long time' seems to drag out for a while as she lowers her voice to a whisper.

"But anyway! Your soul is kinda like a hollow cocoon. It's there but it's empty. Long story short you had a partner who was supposed to be your soulmate and then like a day before the bond was going to form that person found someone else who they love and they made a bond like instantly, in return the essence of your soul kinda like shattered? That's why you didn't have a will to live. Cause you were quite literally heart broken."

Whether you nod or not, Bridgette is going to keep talking.

"The Saja Boys took the soul of their partner's to give to Gwi Ma cause that's just want they do, so since the bond was already made it was still there but it wasn't attached to anyone."

You nod but speak up "I understand that, but how does that explain how those bonds connected to me?" The girl nods and sits up against the pillow as she takes a sip of the monster "don't worry, don't worry. It's actually really simple to understand but it's just hard to explain"

"Let me just-"

"Okay, what's needed to make a bond isn't a soul, it's the souls essence. The morals, personality and mindset of one person. You lost that essence and the bond the Saja Boys had was essence with no soul. Get it?"

"If not think of a kinder egg. The chocolate part is the soul, and the little toy inside is the essence of the soul."

"You had the soul with no essence, the Saja Boys had a bond made with soul essence and no soul. So they kinda mixed together and now those bonds are your own...does that explain how having five bonds is possible?"

You nod again, thank fuck. If not then just comment and I'll explain- I mean what?

"Right but why am I so sick from these bonds?" Finally, you're getting answers

"Oooh that? Okay so basically what happened is that heart you had that wouldn't accept love cause of the heart break- yeah it got ripped to shreds and getting a new heart that can beat for a demon as a human is difficult, so imagine that pain and discomfort with five demons. That pain your thinking of is the pain you have now"

"Again, don't worry. As long as one of the Saja Boys is close to you, you won't feel the pain. The closer they are the better you'll feel and the faster the process will get."

That answers your question, and makes you ask another one. "But why would the bond destroy my heart? Couldn't it just heal it or something?"

"Good question"

she responds with a hum of approval

"I have two answers actually. One, it's because only someone with a soul- a filled soul, can fix their heart

and even if those bonds made your soul complete its still technically not your soul anymore.

It's a mix of five others, and since you want to find love you needed a heart that would accept it. Out with the old and in with the new, basically.

Or it's just cause I wanted to write a sick fic, a really intense sick fic."

Next Chapter, by the way. Wink wink.

"Any more questions?" She turns onto her stomach again and looks at you with a hand on her cheek.

"No." You reply while shaking your head. "Is there anything else you would like to say?"

"Uhmm other than thank you for reading this far, not really. I don't think I need to clarify anything else..."

After a few minutes of silence she nods and stands up to plop herself down on the couch you're sitting on to sit beside you. "Well! If you have any questions comment literally anywhere and I'll answer as soon as I can, I try to reply to everyone by the way so even if you just want to comment your thoughts you are free to do that."

"Okay! In the next chapter you'll remember the information I gave you..except for what I just said, but you won't remember where you got it from, who told you it and what I said exactly. You just know how that bond formed, oki doki? And of course, don't worry. I won't pull you back in here, and this won't be brought up again. This is supposed to be an emotional fic not a comedy, Fourth wall breaking one. I really do swear I just had no idea how to explain it."

"Right! Okay so you'll have to go now, don't worry I'm back to posting one chapter per day schedule so it'll be out soon and seriously if you stayed and are willing to continue reading I appreciate you soso much and I am so greatful for you. Love you lots!! MWAHMWAH

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A/N- sorry for the like really late post!! I was genuinely struggling so I just decided to write this instead I hope you don't mind...

[archangeldyke-all]

hii bestie i loveee ur writing <33 the arcane finale is literally driving me insane holy shit and i just keep thinking about how all the old bitches on the council are probably bigoted assholes to our beloved sevika at first (hopefully) and was wondering if you’d consider writing the reader comforting her after these council meetings or letting her take out any stress on the reader from these meetings heheh okie bye thanks hope you’re doing amazingly <3

GOD. i've been thinking about it more lately (the euphoria of her making it through the series alive is wearing off too) and i just. really need to hug her. because YES she lived and YES zaun is getting a voice and YES she is the best person for the job, but... she lost EVERYTHING. and now she's gonna have to be treated like shit forever for her city. and of course she's gonna stick it out because that's who she is and she'll do anything for zaun but FUCK. i need to hug her so bad. okay lets write lol.

men and minors dni

it's been a hard year.

you and sevika got your worlds rocked when isha and jinx stumbled in your lives, and then you got your hearts broken when they stumbled back out.

there wasn't even a moment to catch your breath before you had to start rebuilding efforts and negotiations with piltover.

and then sevika was appointed to represent the free nation of zaun in piltover's council as the sister cities figure out how to rebuild and get the undercity on it's feet as it gains independence.

and, in a way, it's everything sevika's ever wanted. she's there to assure that the topsiders treat her city right, she's there to demand everything zaun deserves. she gets to oversee development in the undercity, she gets to open schools and parks and libraries.

but in another way, she's never been so miserable in her life.

the councilor's are all members of the wealthiest families in piltover-- and they do not take kindly to sevika's sudden addition to the council.

shoola's been sevika's one true ally, her biggest advocate and defender in the council room. they're friends, in that the same tentative way sevika was friends with silco, but... maybe a little kinder. a little more lighthearted.

shoola's become a close friend of yours, too. she learned quickly that sevika keeps her cards close to her chest, and she often comes to you for an insight into what your wife is thinking. it's fun to have someone to laugh with over sevika's quirks, and you're endlessly appreciative of the woman's fierce protection of your wife in the council, when you can't be there to defend her.

still, though. shoola isn't always there, and she can't control the whispers sevika overhears.

and it's not like your wife is new to being insulted. but it's one thing to be cursed out by a man you're fighting in the street, and a different thing entirely to overhear posh accents whispering about 'sump rats' and 'undercity trash.'

especially when those same posh accents are the people demanding tax cuts for the wealthy, and budget cuts for the undercity.

so, you've been anticipating this.

this being your wife breaking down in silent sobs, crying so hard she can't make any noise, kneeling before you the moment you gets home to bury her face in your stomach.

but just because this has been a long time coming, doesn't mean it breaks your heart any less.

"oh, sevika." you whisper shakily, kicking your boots off before kneeling down and wrapping your arms around her. she buries her face in your shoulder, her arms circling your waist with desperation. "fuck, baby. i'm right here. let it out." you say.

sevika shakes against you, taking desperate gasps for air between her sobs. "i'm so tired." she stutters out. you start crying at her words, settling down onto your ass to pull her into your lap.

"i know, baby. you've been working your whole fuckin' life." you say, scratching her scalp and rubbing her back as she curls up on top of you.

"and i fucking miss them." she cries.

you let out a choked cry and nod, kissing her forehead as tears stream down your cheeks. "yeah." you choke out. "me too."

there's nothing else to say. everything else sevika already knows. you love her. you've got her. jinx and isha are together now, and zaun is free. none of it makes it any better, though.

so you just hold her.

in a while, you'll both run out of tears and get sore from your spots on the floor. you'll dry both of your tears, kiss sevika soundly, and comb her hair from her face as you whisper her praises. you'll call for food to be delivered, draw a nice bath, and you'll make sevika eat and soak until her eyes droop. and then, you'll take her to bed. in the morning, sevika will go back to the council, despite the fact that everyone in that building looks down on her, because sevika is nothing if not loyal to zaun. and tomorrow evening, you'll be waiting here at home to build back up all her confidence that those rich assholes managed to tear down throughout the day.

but, for now, sevika's still crying.

so, for now, you just hold her.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

[elowhinn]

As the X number one fan I gotta ask u what do you think about girl dad X bro because I had a vision in my dreams and now I gotta raise my voice with this

A/N : As X's no.1 and ONLY true fan /j I'm actually way ahead and thought of that weeks ago. What do you guy's think the baby's name should be? ALSOO- Hii, I'm back I had to take a short impromptu break for my declining mental health and all that jazz so I'm so sorry :( Hope you guys forgive me.

Btw I wrote this in the peak writing conditions- I.E early morning ( 3-4 A.M ) in a bathrobe and with music. This is both headcanons and a small scenario,

CHARACTERS | X ( Bai Xizhuang ) , Reader ( You )

INCLUDES | Girldad!X is canon, ooc X would've been the one to give birth, siri play daddy issues by the neighbourhood.

One, two, three, four- He counted— Circles upon circles as he paced around in the hallway outside of the Labor room, fingers fidgeting with a golden coin— and his chest beating rapidly, heart pounding against his ribs so hard that it hurt. It wasn’t meant to go like this, no- he’d never have things go this way— He promised, he vowed that he’ll be with you till death do you both part-

But what is Bai Xizhuang supposed to do without you?

A sharp pang pierced itself into Bai Xizhuang’s chest- as finally, he stopped— Stopped pacing, stopped fidgeting- that enough was the answer, airways felt as if they were tightening up— forcing him to gasp for shallow breaths of air, and his fists clenched. He doesn’t know. Neither did he want to dwell on such a timeline, he didn’t wanna be trapped in his imagination— The image of you being possibly gone from his life forever.

He tried his best— He made sure that your health, mental- and physical— So why, why is everything turning for the worse- He didn’t want his last memory of you be the one where you screamed in agony inside that damn room- as he was escorted out.

It happened so fast— Your hand in his own squeezing it tightly as you gave birth, nurse’s and doctors surround the both of you— And you closed your eyes, there the mayhem began. Shouts and medical orders thrown around in the room like breakable objects, suddenly he felt his arm being pulled back by personnel- telling him to leave the room,

No- No, please— He begged, but they didn’t budge, and that’s what brought him here today- A total mess,

And for the first time, X— Couldn’t do anything. He can’t take your pain away— can’t even ensure your survival— Can’t use his ability to change things, he couldn’t snap his fingers and everything magically got better-

And yet he’s left with the one thing that gave him such, belief.

He could only believe that you’ll survive- pray that you’ll be there with him- alive and healthy- to raise your baby girl.

.

.

.

“ Sir.. I’m sorry for your loss. “ No— no… He quickly sped past the doctor, fingers pushed against the door as he barged into the room and- You were there. Alive, breathing and smiling at him tiredly with as much cheekiness you could muster in that moment- Giving him two peace signs, head tilting to the side—

“ You thought I died didn’t you— “ You joked, voice hoarse and cracked— eyes crinkling as you stared at him directly- breathing in slow and steady, X visibly sighed in relief- before gently bending over beside the bed— Hand reaching out to touch the side of your cheek, caressing it in a tender embrace as your warmth seeped through and gave heat to his cold ones.

“ Don’t ever fucking do that again. “ X then let out a grumble- not annoyed, but worried— Soft, yet still stern. Glossy dark eyes bore into yours, glasses shining with the bright and cool hospital light. He leaned in closer to you as he kissed the side of your forehead, glasses bumping into it as he stayed there- still and for awhile.

You laughed as you gave into him, disheveled hair pressing into his neck, “ M’sorry, couldn’t help it, love… “ You murmured tiredly, your thumb gently rubbing circles into his free one. Snickering a bit as you basked in his presence, suddenly— “ Are you alright- is everything fine— our baby, where- “ X rambled out, panic settling into his bones once more—

Gently bringing your pointer finger to your lips- “ Ssh- Look over there, they’re bringing her in. “ You stated, pointing to the nurse who brought the bundle of joy into the room— The nurse smiled at the both of you as she handed you the baby,

“ Congratulations Mrs, and Ms— It’s a healthy baby girl, now- Do you both have a name in mind? “

Congratulations indeed on surviving the ‘Dead Wife, Unhappy Life’ curse— X, you certainly are one lucky bastard.

Putting that aside, X is definitely the best— He’s the one to let you rest as much as you can, often doing the chores and more around the house— The baby cries? Snap, and he’s in the nursery in an instant already cooing and making the baby laugh as he has her all cradled in his arms, giggling and creating silly gestures.

Whenever it’s ‘Bring your Kid to work-day’ Believe that he’s going into his workplace— with a cute and pastel pink baby carrier, and all his co-workers are surprised because what do you mean this man is married? And has a kid no less!? As introverted as he is, he has to ( sadly ) suck it up and talk to the other parents to get advice and more just to learn how to care of both of yall’s child together.

The type to sob uncontrollably as his daughter has to go to her first day of kindergarten, taking pictures and always willing to miss a day of work just to go to his daughters events- The loudest to cheer, and the loudest to cry.

His fans would immediately notice that he looks more tired, and quote ‘fatherly’ during his streams— Only for him to laugh it off, and— yet you see him winking cheekily to the camera, never giving a coherent answer— But maybe it has something to do with the ring on his ring finger. ( Everyone is so intrigued and curious, and he’s out here living his best life. )

He’d walk in on you trying to teach your daughter to say the word ‘Dada’ and she keeps saying ‘Mama’ instead— Oh he’d be devastated, and yet- When the day finally comes that your daughter would say the world ‘Dada’ he’s jumping and jolly.

Anyways did you know that your daughter is an exact clone of your husband? Save for the eyes, she inherited from you— But believe if she’s exactly like her father then she’s a total mommy’s girl, just like ‘Dada’ who can’t keep his hands off you- neither can your daughter. ( But it’s cute to see them battling it out for your attention, hehe. )

When you were recovering he was there at your beck and call— Chocolates, movies- everything, X is the best husband- Even managed to get his boss to agree to him doing a PPL ( Payed Parental Leave ) Just so he could be there by your side, tending to your physical and emotional needs.

X would look at you feeding your baby, and wonder if he too— could try it one day.

Y’know, Love… Our kid just said she wanted a new sibling for Christmas.. Just saying.

[daddy-long-legssss]

hii hello! i hope you’re having a wonderful day ☀️for the ask game: top five favourite alex outfits 👀

hello lulu! 🌸 omgggg, i've been WAITING for this question so thank you for asking it 🫶🏽 this is impossibly hard cause i love so many of his outfits. it truly fills me with insanity that he can make a leather jacket, t-shirt and jeans or trousers look impeccably stylish and effortlessly cool because everything fits him so well.

t in the park 2016: he was looking like the sexiest little minx ALIVE. the high-waisted pleated, perfectly tailored trousers that highlight his lil waist. half the buttons left undone on the shirt and the bandana loosely around the neck. absolute madness. i especially love how the cut of the jacket cinches in near the waist and flairs out slightly.

2. spain 2011: this outfit and this era forever 🫡 i'm sorry (i'm not!!!!). my shaggy haired beloved is looking effortlessly cool and like the epitome of rock 'n roll in his shades and motorcycle boots and cut up t-shirt. i need those sunglasses SO BAD. (he also looks impossibly soft here too. there is such a laid-back vibe and earnestness and warmth about him in these photos. i have such a soft spot for this era).

3. zurich openair 2022: listen. it's fun to rag on him for wearing that damn suit the entire tour, but i loved so many of his outfits during the first leg of the tour in 2022. i have a particular weakness for this look. the brown leather jacket just suits him SO well - it's softer and little more evolved than the classic black leather jacket from the 'am' era. i loved his hair during the beginning of the tour too and when he'd wear the ray-bans. i can't say it enough but: effortlessly cool.

4. øyafestivalen 2016: i mean this outfit with the Pants™ is fucking iconic. he was feeling himself. i really wish i could have been a fly on the wall the first time he put on those pants and thought 'damn. my arse looks great'. i also love the styling with the denim shirt and the bandana around his neck (and his goofy ass john lennon sunglasses).

5. 'is this what you wanted' mv outfit 2016: this outfit (and video) truly haunts my dreams (in the best possible way). the matador-style pants and the vest with his titties out and the scarf around the NECK! utter, utter madness. i wish there were some behind the scenes photos from this video so we could see the details of the outfit (i'm 99.9% sure the vest is velvet but it's hard to tell). he truly presented himself on a platter.

honourable mentions from 'sias' era:

honourable mentions from 'am' era:

honourable mention from 'eycte' era:

honourable mentions from 'tbhc' era:

honourable mentions from 'the car' era:

[zhvakinnn]

Hii! i just saw your requests are open and i wanted to make one if thats okay. Can you do an Aiden x reader where the reader dies instead of him? Maybe they pushed him out of the way and the ceiling collapsed on them instead. Thank youu if you do it (￣▽￣)ノ

IM SO HAPPY THERE'S SO MANY REQUEST 😭💚

i had to re-read the comic because i forgot what happened ◉⁠‿⁠◉

Warning's: angst to fluff!

✨as always i don't know much English so if something is wrong correct me✨

All of you are looking for the keys Taylor said y'all kept looking and looking but no avail

" i feel a minor sense of deja Vu" aiden says as he was playing with the knife his holding

"we have 3 minutes left" Logan said as he was looking at his phone i looked at logan then back at looking with Taylor and ben

"Aiden there's a straggler"

"yeah i can hear it running"

You saw him hit the phantom with a knife

"✨got it✨... Hey (name)did you see what i did am i ✨ awesome ✨"

You looked annoyed but then you smiled at him making him melt at you're smile so beautiful

"you did great hon" you said as he smiled back at you"

Ashlyn cringe at your relationship but happy to the both of you but you have two have to stop flirting

Then Ashlyn looked at aiden asking if there are more phantom

"i cant see any- whoa!" The building started to rumble you all fell down the ground when you looked up the ceilings are cracking

"everyone get under something!"

Ashlyn yelled but as you're about to get under the desk you saw aiden and ran towards him

Once you got up to him you pulled him out but you ended up tripping in a rock and fell down you saw aiden getting pulled by ben

Then you black out when another celling fell on you

Ashlyn yelled you're name and went up to you lifting the ceiling that fell on you when she lift it up you're crushed underneath it the rumbling stop then it continues, Taylor lift you up saying

"come on get them under the table!!"

Aiden suddenly came towards them holding you close he was panicking you died you were crushed

For the first time he wanted to be silent and just be with you

"(name)!!"

You were shaking violently while the parents circled around you you arch you're back then stop shaking you're eyes went back to its normal size

You sat down wheezing

"-m fine... don't need.. hospital"

"Aiden??" He was in a panic when he saw you but your alive your talking

He didn't waste no time running up to you hugging you tightly " you died" he said in a shaky voice making you break

"i thought you're gone but you're here your talking I'm still not on the dream right?.."

You hug him close too the others went to give you two space because they know you two were gonna get Smoochies

He kept mumbling something that you do understand you kissed his cheeks

"calm down Aiden I'm here I'm okay" you smiled at him and hugged him he peck your lips then hug you more

Well hope yall like it!!!

Masterlist | about me | rules

[zafill]

Can I ask for a kyojuro x a girl who happens to look exactly like his mother ruka?

(this is my time requesting so I'm really nervous)

A Flicker of Flame

HII UR MY FIRST REQUEST SO IM SO EXCITED!!!

warnings: none

note: Its a bit short, if you want a pt.2 just ask :3

----------------------------------

The streets of the red light district were alive with the hum of night time activity. Lanterns hung from the eaves of the shops, casting soft red glows on the faces of passing strangers. The scent of sake and sweet perfumes lingered in the air, blending with the whispers of conversations. Y/n walked quietly through the crowd, her sharp eyes scanning every corner of the bustling marketplace.

She had her reasons for being here. Her life in the village hadn't been kind, and the things she did to survive were things she would never admit aloud. Tonight, though, her eyes were set on one particular target—a man known for his flaming red hair, his powerful presence, and his unwavering sense of honor.

Kyojuro Rengoku.

She had heard of him, of course. The Flame Hashira had been in the area before, fighting demons to protect the city. The people praised him for his strength, his commitment, and his fiery spirit. They spoke of his kindness, his bravery, and how he had saved the city on multiple occasions. It seemed like everyone was enamored with him. Except Y/n.

She couldn't bring herself to like him, despite everything he had done. The truth was, she found it hard to trust people who tried too hard to be "good."

Y/n moved through the throngs of people with practiced ease, her gaze always shifting from face to face, from shadow to shadow. She was a master of her craft, slipping unnoticed through crowded streets, her hands light as air as they lifted coin purses from unsuspecting victims. The bustling red-light district was perfect for someone like her—chaotic, filled with distractions, and yet, she always kept her focus sharp.

She had heard Rengoku was nearby, having been seen leaving a tavern a short while ago. Her target was a man who stood out, even in a crowd. His towering figure and bright, fiery hair could make him a beacon in the dark, and that was exactly what she needed. It was always easier to pick the pockets of those who were too focused on their own sense of justice to pay attention to the world around them.

The night air was thick with the smell of incense and the faintest hint of smoke. Y/n knew this place all too well—she had slipped through these streets countless times, taking what she could, never looking back. She was always quick, always calculating. But tonight, something felt different. Tonight, she wasn’t just any pickpocket. She had her sights set on something bigger.

Kyojuro Rengoku was tall, his posture rigid, as though he was made of iron and fire. His crimson hair, glowing faintly under the lantern lights, reminded Y/n of a blaze, fierce and untamable. She watched him from a distance as he spoke with the street vendors, exchanging pleasantries and leaving generous tips. The people adored him, surrounding him with smiles and admiration. He was their hero, the man who protected them from demons and dangers alike.

Y/n's lips curled into a bitter smile as she adjusted her cloak, allowing it to fall loosely around her form. She moved closer, blending into the crowd, eyes fixed on the pouch hanging from Rengoku's waist. It was tucked away in a way that screamed "easy pick," but it was guarded by his sheer presence—the kind of presence that made everyone part ways without even realizing it.

Taking a deep breath, Y/n reached for the knife tucked beneath her sleeve. She wasn’t planning to use it, not tonight. But a sharp edge was always a good reminder of what she was capable of. She wasn’t afraid of a fight. Not anymore.

Her pace quickened, and in the span of a few moments, she was close enough to make her move. As she brushed past him, her fingers brushed the pouch gently, carefully, her movements like water, silent and swift. She felt the familiar weight shift in her hand, her fingers deftly unlatching the string that held it closed. The pouch slipped free, light as a feather.

But then—

Rengoku’s voice rang out, low and calm, yet full of an undeniable power. "I believe you’ve taken something that doesn’t belong to you."

Y/n froze, her heart skipping a beat. She hadn’t expected him to notice, to catch her so easily. She’d been so sure of herself, so confident that this would be like any other job.

Y/n’s breath hitched, but she quickly masked it with a practiced air of innocence. She straightened, feigning surprise, her eyes wide as she turned to face him.

“Excuse me?” she asked, her voice soft, as if she had no idea what he was talking about. Her hand stayed steady, the pouch still clutched in her fingers, hidden behind the folds of her cloak.

Rengoku's amber gaze never wavered from her. His eyes were unwavering, like flames that burned with sincerity and unshakable certainty. He didn’t flinch at her act; he simply stepped closer, his presence like the heat of a fire, undeniable and relentless.

"You're quite skilled," he said, his voice calm, though there was a quiet intensity beneath the words. "But I can see the pouch you’ve taken. I don’t think you need to deny it."

Y/n’s mind raced. She knew she could make a run for it—escape into the darkened alleyways and lose herself in the maze of the district. She’d done it countless times before. But something about Rengoku’s gaze made her hesitate. The usual fear she felt when caught had vanished, replaced by a strange curiosity. Why wasn’t he angry? Why was he so sure of himself?

She took a breath, letting her mask slip just slightly. “I don’t know what you're talking about,” she said again, but this time, the edge of her voice wasn’t as sharp. Her words didn’t carry the usual bite; they felt empty.

Rengoku gave a soft sigh, not out of frustration, but as if he had expected this response. His eyes softened, and for the briefest moment, Y/n could almost see past the warrior and into the man beneath. The one who had seen countless battles, fought for people who might never know his name, and stood unwavering even when the world around him crumbled.

“You don’t have to keep pretending," he said gently, his voice surprisingly tender. "I understand why you do it, the way you live. But stealing from others won’t fill the emptiness inside. You don’t have to carry that weight alone."

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. His words weren’t angry or accusatory—they were understanding. Almost like he knew. Like he saw through all the walls she had so carefully built around herself.

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest, and before she could stop herself, her legs were already moving, carrying her away from Rengoku’s steady gaze. His words reverberated in her mind, but she couldn’t let them settle. Not yet. Not when she still had so much to run from.

She darted down a narrow alleyway, weaving between shadowed doorways and discarded crates. The sounds of the bustling red-light district faded, replaced by the echo of her hurried footsteps and the sharp breaths she took as she pressed herself against the cool stone wall.

Her pulse was racing, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Why did he have to say that? She didn’t want anyone to understand her. She didn’t want to be seen, not like that. She needed to forget about Rengoku and his damned kindness. People like him never understood. They always thought they could save someone like her, but they never could. Not really.

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, pushing the thoughts away as she crouched behind a stack of crates, hoping the shadows would conceal her. She stayed perfectly still, listening for any sign that Rengoku had followed her.

But no matter how hard she tried to keep her breath steady, it came in sharp, uneven gasps. Her hands clenched at her sides, the pouch now sitting heavy in her palm, the weight of it a constant reminder of what she had almost done.

Her eyes flicked toward the alley’s mouth, waiting for the familiar sounds of footsteps to fade.

Seconds passed. Then minutes.

But they didn’t fade. Instead, she heard a voice—a calm, unhurried voice—cut through the stillness of the alley.

“I know you’re here.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat. How?

Her eyes widened, and she turned her head just enough to see the silhouette of Rengoku standing at the far end of the alley. He hadn’t even run after her, hadn’t rushed to catch up. No, he had been patient, waiting for her to come to terms with whatever it was she was running from.

His amber eyes gleamed in the low light, calm and unwavering, as if he had always known she would end up here.

“There's no reason to run,” he said gently, his voice like a warm flame in the cold night air. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Y/n’s instincts screamed at her to move, to escape before he could catch her again, but something in the way he spoke—something in the way he wasn’t threatening or angry—stilled her.

He stepped closer, his posture relaxed yet firm, like a man who had faced countless trials and was ready for whatever came next, but with no desire to force her hand.

Y/n’s chest tightened, her mind a swirl of conflicting thoughts. She felt trapped, cornered by his calm presence, unable to run or hide. The weight of the pouch in her hand felt unbearable now, its coins clinking in the silence between them.

With a sharp exhale, Y/n tossed the pouch back toward him, letting it fall to the ground with a dull thud. She pulled her hood back with a swift motion, the dark fabric falling away from her face, revealing the features she had kept hidden for so long.

Rengoku froze.

For a long moment, there was no sound, no movement except the quiet rustle of her cloak in the night air. Y/n tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes at him, as though daring him to say something. Anything.

But when his amber eyes locked onto her, his mouth parted in disbelief, and his voice trembled with something she couldn’t quite place.

"Mom...?"

Y/n blinked, her mind struggling to catch up. Her breath caught in her throat, a confused laugh escaping her before she could stop it. "What?!" she snapped, her hands flying up as if to shield herself from whatever madness was unfolding before her. "What do you mean, 'Mom'? Are you out of your mind or something?"

Rengoku took a step forward, his face etched with shock, his eyes wide with recognition. "I... it can’t be. But your eyes—"

Y/n’s eyes narrowed, her pulse racing in confusion and frustration. She threw her hands up in the air, exasperated, and took a sharp step back, her posture defensive.

“Do I look old enough to be your mother?!?!" she snapped, her voice rising with disbelief. “I mean, seriously, what is this? Some kind of sick joke? Do I look like I’m in my thirties or something?! I’m not your mom!”

Her words cut through the air, filled with a mixture of anger and pure confusion. She had no idea what was going on or why this stranger—this man she had just met, someone who’d seemed so calm and collected, was now looking at her with that wide-eyed recognition.

Rengoku seemed to recoil, his hands slightly raised in a gesture of apology, but he didn’t back away. His expression was a mix of concern and bewilderment, the shock of the moment still written clearly across his face.

“I—I’m sorry. It’s just… your eyes. They’re so familiar,” he stammered, though his voice remained steady. "I... I didn’t mean to—"

Y/n cut him off, shaking her head in disbelief. “No, no. No. I’m not your long-lost mother, and if you think I am, you’ve got some serious issues you need to sort out. My life’s hard enough without you adding some random, weird connection I didn’t ask for.”

Y/n’s breath hitched in frustration, her hands still clenched tightly by her sides as she glared at him, daring him to say anything more. She wasn’t sure what game he was playing, but she wasn’t about to entertain it any longer.

Rengoku, still standing there with that mixture of shock and regret in his eyes, seemed to deflate slightly under her sharp words. His face reddened, and he shifted uncomfortably, clearly caught off guard by her anger and the situation at hand.

“I... I’m really sorry,” he muttered, his voice lower now, laced with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. It’s just...”

He trailed off, the words caught in his throat as he glanced at the pouch of money still resting on the ground between them, the coins catching the faint glow of the lanterns above.

“Keep the money...” he mumbled, his voice almost inaudible now. His cheeks were flushed, a stark contrast to his usual fiery demeanor, and his eyes darted anywhere but at her.

With that, he gave a small bow of his head, and without another word, he turned on his heel and began to walk away, his broad shoulders slightly hunched, his back turned in silent retreat.

Y/n watched him go, her mind swirling with a mixture of confusion, frustration, and something else she couldn’t quite place. She hadn’t expected him to just... give up like that.

As he disappeared into the distance, she couldn’t help but mutter under her breath, “What a weird guy.”

And with that, she was left alone in the quiet alley, the pouch still lying untouched at her feet, the night air thick with the weight of everything unsaid.

[glitch-karma]

Hii! Can you do Vanitas x sleepy reader? They’re kinda just sleep deprived all the time, hehe. Sorry if I’m bothering you, I hope you can do this request! <3

✧Me who started this at 2:35 am:

✧One shot

✧Cw: Gn!Reader, Fluff-ish, Reader is a vampire and Vanitas's assistant, reader struggles with insomnia, maybe ooc Vanitas, complicated relationship (still romantic-ish)

✧ probably not proof read

✧theres always crumbs for vnc so here y'all go

It was a slight chilly night as Vanitas sat on the roof of the Hotel Chouchou. The breeze of the night came through slowly, the wind flowing through his hair lightly. It was funny, how the city of Paris still looked almost alive at night. The soft glow of lights speckled the city.

Vanitas wore a dully melancholic expression as he stated at the city. It was eerily quiet as he numbly stared out.

The sound of soft foot steps approaching notified him someone was near, though he stayed perfectly still. "... It's late y'know?" He said, his face shifting to a light smirk as he looked behind him. There you stood, the eye bags under your eyes evident as you stared down at him, before turning to the city. "You're up too, non?"

He huffed as he looked away, placing his hand to his face. "This is why you're so exhausted all the time y'know?" He scolded you lightly. "It's fine." You nodded.

There was silence as you stood behind him quietly. Vanitas glanced behind him, noticing how you wore the same, dull expression he'd worn not so long ago. What could you be thinking about? Sometimes it was hard to remember that you were also a broken person such as himself. Honestly, he'd rather not think about it.

You let out a light yawn as you finally sat down beside him. Vanitas chuckled at your drowsiness as he looked back out to the city again. You sat there for a long while, just the two of you and the sounds of the dead Paris Streets.

Vanitas could feel you shiver beside him lightly as he sighed. "Why are you out here anyways? You're obviously exhausted." He said annoyed. "I'm always like this." You shook your head. He scoffed out a chuckle as he nodded. "Well duh, stating the obvious."

The eeiry silence once again enraptured the two of you. Vanitas mentally scolded himself as his thoughts couldn't be cleared of you. Your presence beside him somehow managed to break through the barriers he'd carefully constructed. It was exhausting, the way his mind couldn't ever stop thinking about you.

"I don't get it," he muttered, a hint of frustration tainting his words. "Why do you push yourself so hard, running on empty all the time?" His gaze shifted to you, attempting to decipher your expression.

You shrugged with an indifferent expression. "Dunno.." at this Vanitas stared at you more. Your gaze met his, and for a moment, something softened in his eyes. Uncomfortable with the vulnerability, he turned his attention back to the city lights.

"I guess I've been like this for awhile." You mumbled out. Vanitas glanced up at you again. "Sleep just doesn't really come that easily, even if it's all I crave. You know, you're not the only one with demons," you said softly, your gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "We all carry our burdens, Vanitas."

He scoffed, his wall being built within him once more. "I don't need your pity." "It's not pity," your tone was gentle. "It's understanding."

For a moment, Vanitas looked away, not wanting to listen. Then, with a sigh that carried the weight of unspoken emotions, he spoke. "Understanding won't change anything."

"Maybe. But I can hope it helps ease it.. Just being there. Even in the silence of the night." You finished.

Your words hung in the air as another silence engulfed the both of you. Vanitas found himself momentarily at a loss for words.

As Vanitas tried to regain his composure, he stole another glance at you. There was a softness in your worn out eyes that echoed the vulnerability he often tried to bury. It was a vulnerability he couldn't quite comprehend.

Vanitas sighed as he looked away again. "You talk too much." He huffed out. You merely shrugged, a small but genuine smile playing on your lips. "It's a talent, I suppose."

He let out a scoff, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps a hint of gratitude. After a few moments, another yawn escaped your lips. You glanced up at him slightly. "It's weird.. you're one of the most unbearable, scary people I've ever met." "Okay, ouch." He commented, letting you continue.

Your eyes closed for a second before opening again in defiance, "But I feel the most relaxed when I'm with you." You finished.

The contradiction between tonight's conversations and the usual banter between you two left him momentarily speechless. His attempt to mask his surprise with a scoff was futile as he grew embarrassed.

"You're delusional if you think I'm someone you should find relaxing," he retorted. Yet, the subtle tint of pink on his cheeks portrayed the effect of your words. "Probably." You mumbled out, slowly blinking.

Your yawns persisted, and a drowsy smile lingered on your lips as you observed Vanitas's futile attempts to deflect your words. "You're just spouting nonsense because you're half-asleep." He shifted away from you. "Sure, that's what I'm doing."

The silence made him glance up again, noticing you staring into the city lights, closing and reopening your eyes every few seconds. He couldn't help but stare at you for a bit, before jerking his head back to the city himself.

"You should.. Let yourself sleep." He mumbled out. You looked over with slightly surprised eyes, before your face slowly softened. "..thanks, Vanitas."

"yeah, yeah whatever.." he embarrassedly mumbled, looking away from you. You chuckled, continuing to stare at the beautiful pairs sky together.

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Supe Hating Their Powers

Requested: Hii! I loved what you wrote for my last request, so I figured I'd drop another one✨ May I request a the boys preference where it's basically (bear with me, I'm gonna try to explain) reader is a supe, but refuses to use their powers bc of whatever reason (feeling dangerous, not liking the ability, keeping it secret etc) But it's their reaction to when their S/O uses their abilities to protect them, bc no matter how terribly they hate being a supe, they'd embrace it to keep them safe - @ghostlyaccurate

Requested: hii! how are you doing? may i request a The Boys preference where reader is a supe, but their powers are very self-destructive (like, using it too much could be dangerous to reader themself), and basically their reaction to reader using their abilities to save them, despite it nearly killing themself? also, so sorry if this is too dark! you can totally change it to just being tiring if your more comfortable writing that <3 - @yinorathedragontamer

A/N: I combined these two requests, I hope you don't mind!! I love both of these ideas and I thought they'd work well together :) I imagine it like Cate with her eyes/seizures when she pushes too much/too many people. I made all the powers different cuse I thought it would be more interesting! Thank you for requesting!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher never wanted you to use your powers if you didn't want to. But when he needed saving, you didn't give it a second thought. Your powers feel like burning alive. The fire, the flames, they're powerful, but it's excruciating. You save him I the end, but you spend days after feeling like you've been burned at the stake. There are no actual physical burns, but your body still feels that way. It never gets easier, either. He's grateful you saved him, but he knows how painful your powers can be. He tries to help as much as possible, but there's really nothing you can do but wait it out. It was one of the first things he ever knew about you: you're a Supe with side effects. He didn't realize how bad it would be until you were locking yourself away, trying to ease the burning sensation around your whole body.

Hughie knew what happened when you healed other people. You'd told him in graphic detail the last time you'd used your abilities. He told you you'd never have to use them, ever. But he was hurt. He was losing consciousness. You were the only one who could help him. You were the only one who could save him. So, you did. And in return your skin unzipped, blood pouring out of you. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't make a sound. You would have to die before you could go back to normal. Hughie hated watching this. He begged for help, but there was no one around. It was horrible. He'd wake up from nightmares where you'd die and die again. You told him it wouldn't happen again, that you were sorry he'd have to see that. He knew he should have been grateful, that you saved him, but it was awful. You knew how awful it was and that's why you never used it.

Annie refused to let you use your powers. She told you outright she had it handled, but when the time came for her to fight, you knew it was a losing battle. You could leave your body and take over others. You jumped from body to body, taking each person out, but by the time you find you way back to your body you're exhausted, your eyes bloodshot, your mind cloudy. Like Cate, you're susceptible to seizures when you push yourself too much, when you spread yourself too thin. The more people you take over, the worse it gets. Annie feels awful that you had to save her, when you had to risk your health and safety. It was amazing to see. As soon as you took over their bodies she could tell it was you. But the side effects were awful. She couldn't stop worrying about you, worrying about what would happen.

M.M. never realized what your powers would entail. You could read other people's minds. That didn't seem so bad. You rarely ever used it, though. He never pushed you to explain or use it, but when the team needed you, when your abilities were the only answer, you did what you could. Days later you were still hearing people. You tried to drown it out with TV and music, but they were in your head. It felt like the while city was talking through your brain. Screaming and crtuing and laughter and fears and worries and everything. Every feeling and thought a person could he capable of, that's what you were experiencing. It was horrible. You were never sure how long it lasted. It felt like an eternity. You cried to him, trying to keep it together, but all you could hear was his apologies. He felt awful for asking you to do this.

Frenchie never would have asked you to save him, save the day, but you had no choice. He was in danger. You would have done anything to protect him. Your sonic scream is rarely ever shown off. You're not totally embarrassed by it, but it has some pretty awful side effects. Plus you didn't love being a Supe. You felt lied to by your family. When you do scream, heads splatter. Frenchie was shocked you were capable of that. Afterwards your throat burns, you lose your voice. You can't talk for days, maybe even weeks, and though you try not to, you can't help but try to talk, argue, bicker with The Boys. Your voice sounds so painful, gravely, and he encourages you to put it on rest. It's your throat that hurts, like it's on fire. You rarely ever used your abilities because it was a one and done deal. You were powerful, you could kill, but it came with it's own consequences.

Kimiko only knew the general ideas about your Supe abilities. Your blood was poison. You had to he careful about getting hurt or rooms full of people, a whole hospital floor, would he dead. Kimiko had been seriously hurt and though you knew she would come back fine, your anger and hurt got the better of you. You slice yourself open, spewing blood everywhere, all over the bad guys. Before then you urged The Boys to get out of there, not wanting to hurt your teammates. Everyone around you drops dead. You stitch yourself up alone, making sure there's not a drop of blood left outside of your body. Kimiko is horrified at your work and the fact that you hurt yourself so badly for her when she ended up being fine. It hurt and made you feel like a freak, but you did it for her. Besides, your stitches were getting a little better.

[dioslesbianwife]

hihi! hope you’re doing well?

could i request another continuation of rival reader? reader surprising their Jojo by coming out of retirement to fight one more time, but instead of fighting against their Jojo they’re fighting alongside them to defeat some sort of mega threat? tysm <33

hii, i'm doing well, ty for asking <3 hope you are too, and sure, hope u enjoy and thank you for requesting ❤️

Jonathan Joestar

Your rivalry with Jonathan was noble, proud, and honorable.

You were like two opposing swords- sharp and clean. Always respecting each other, even in battle.

When you vanished from the world, rumors said you had died. But Jonathan never believed it.

And then, during a massive Dio-level crisis…

You step out of the fog. Older. Wearing battle-worn armor.

“Joestar. Long time no see.”

His eyes widen. “You… you came back.”

You nod. “One last time. Together.”

Jonathan clutches your forearm like a brother-in-arms. “It’s an honor to fight beside you.”

You move like you never left the battlefield. He trusts your instincts completely. Even mirrors your technique.

When it’s over, he turns to you, breathless.

“You’ve changed. But you’re still… incredible.”

His admiration never faded. If anything, it only grew.

Joseph Joestar

You were a chaotic rival. Always one step ahead, and ten steps extra.

“You again? I thought I got rid of you!”

“Not a chance, JoJo.”

You had a playful hatred, constantly sabotaging each other with jokes, booby traps, and ego.

After you disappeared, he always kept one eye open. “If they ever come back, I swear- ”

So when you dropkick a vampire mid-battle, smirk, and go, “Need a hand, old man?”, he FREEZES.

“YOU?! WHAT THE HELL???”

You: “Relax. I’m on your side. This once.”

“You’re not dying on me after all this, got it?” you growl as you pull him up mid-battle.

Your teamwork is chaotic but stupidly effective.

After the battle, he never lets you vanish again.

Jotaro Kujo

You and Jotaro were serious. Brutal. No-nonsense. Both quiet. Both deadly.

He never smiled when you were around. Just narrowed his eyes. 

After a while, you vanished.

But when DIO’s absorbed Joseph’s blood and has grown stronger, Jotaro stares ahead, overpowered- 

And hears your voice.

“… can’t leave you idiots alone, can I?”

He turns. It’s you. Older. Stronger. Wearing a long coat and cold eyes.

For a second, he stares like you’re a ghost. Then he nods. Just once.

“Let’s finish this,” you say.

“Hmph. About time,” he replies.

Fighting alongside him is wordless. Efficient. Like a dance you never forgot.

Afterward, he says nothing. But you find a note later:

“You’ve always been stronger than I gave you credit for. I’m glad you’re still alive.”

Josuke Higashikata

You were the cool, older rival- the one who always teased Josuke.

He admired you so much.

You vanished after a fight that left both of you scarred. Josuke never forgot it.

So when Bites the Dust threatens the people Morioh and he’s panicking- 

And you step off a motorcycle, trenchcoat blowing, going “Need backup, sweetheart?”

He STUTTERS. Literally stumbles backward.

“Wha-  You’re ALIVE???”

“Told you I’d beat you in one last fight,” you wink.

“Except… I’m on your side now.”

Fighting next to you reignites all those memories of being younger and wanting to prove himself.

“I’m stronger now,” he pants after a hit.

You: “I know. I wouldn’t have come if you weren’t worth it.”

He grins like a kid again. Finally feels like he earned your respect.

Giorno Giovanna

You were the only one who could outsmart him. The shadow across his golden throne.

Your rivalry was quiet and psychological. Chess games. Poison tea. Secret wars.

When you vanished, Giorno was suspicious. “No one like them just disappears.”

Years later, when Passione is threatened by Stand users…

A figure steps from the shadows beside him.

“Gold Experience is pretty, but it won’t be enough alone.”

Giorno’s eyes narrow. “You came back.”

You: “I didn’t come to challenge you, Don Giorno. I came to finish the job with you.”

He smiles.

You fight like opposites made whole. Shadow and sun. Left and right.

After the fight, Giorno places a golden flower on your chest.

“You’re the only rival I ever missed.”

Jolyne Cujoh

You were the badass rival that called her “Princess” and threw punches without warning.

Jolyne would get SO mad every time you kicked her ass and then vanished like a ghost.

When she hears rumors of a threat in the prison and everyone’s in a panic- 

You appear in the mess hall mid-fight like, “Heard you were in over your head, Cujoh.”

She literally SCREAMS.

“YOU?! WHAT THE HELL- ”

“Miss me?”

You both fall into rhythm like it’s nothing. Jolyne yells, you snipe. You joke, she tackles.

“Don’t die, okay?” she mutters between blows.

You grin. “Only if you don’t.”

After the chaos, she drags you out by the collar.

“You’re NOT disappearing again. I’ll chain you to myself if I have to.”

Johnny Joestar

Johnny hated you. Like viscerally. Because you reminded him of the part of himself he couldn’t forgive.

You were the person who never gave him an inch during the Steel Ball Run.

But after it ended… you disappeared. Not dead. Just gone.

So when a threat connected to the Corpse Parts reemerges, Johnny rides alone- 

Until you step out of the desert dust.

“Funny how we both couldn’t stay away.”

He stares. Long. Silent. Then nods.

“Well… We’ll ride together this time.”

The old hatred isn’t gone. But it’s different. Warmer. Respected.

“You’ve changed,” he mutters after your combined victory.

“So did you,” you reply.

And this time, you don’t vanish. You ride beside him.

Josuke Higashikata (Gappy)

Josuke barely remembers your old fights. They’re fuzzy, like a dream.

You were always showing up to battle him, claiming he owed you a rematch.

He’d laugh. “You’re weird as hell.”

But then you were gone.

He assumed the worst. Until he sees you in the crowd during a disaster in Morioh.

You raise an eyebrow. “Miss me, Frankenboy?”

“...You came back?”

“Couldn’t let you hog the spotlight, right?”

Your tag-team is absurd. You bring chaos, he brings precision. You argue mid-fight, then finish each other’s sentences.

When it’s over, he’s blushing, hiding it.

“You’re… different.”

“You’re still cute.”

Josuke short-circuits.

Jodio Joestar

You were his older rival. The criminal he couldn’t stop comparing himself to.

You vanished after one last job went wrong.

He tells himself he doesn’t care. That you’re probably dead or worse.

Until a disaster-level threat hits and Jodio’s outnumbered.

And then you reappear, Stand glowing like an omen.

“Missed me, kid?”

Jodio freezes. His voice cracks.

“...What the fuck took you so long?”

You grin. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad? I’m about to cry.”

You fight like a pair of storms. One old, one new.

Afterward, you both sit on the roof, staring at the ocean.

“You’re not a kid anymore,” you murmur.

“Took you long enough to see it,” he whispers.