#i tried to fill up the tags so this doesn't show up in tags. who knows if it'll work

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Ghosts In the Same Room

Author's note: Eryn and Caligo Meet.

Summary: Eryn helps Caligo.

Warning: war themes & aftermath, graphic medical imagery, death & loss, body trauma, psychological weight, Imperial Authority tension

tagged: @sleepyfan-blog @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @i-am-a-dragon34 @ms--lobotomy @jaghatai-khock @legionsofthehungry

tagged: @kit-williams @whorety-k @aprofessionaln00b @bleedingichorhearts @thevoidscreams @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis @bispecsual, @egrets-not-regrets @finchly-tintinnabulation @nereidof40k

Another day- another night. Another dozen or so cousins helped. The medicae tent is quieter tonight, not silent, never silent, but quieter. The cries have dulled to murmurs, and the hiss of auto-injectors have been replaced by the slow pulse of monitors and the occasional rattle of med-kits being packed away. The steady- soothing drumbeats of the hearts of astartes- of his patients sleeping. Their beathing slow and deep as they rest and recover.

Caligo stands over a cot, his gauntlets are off- and his hands- were clean, but hands are stained to the wrists he's just finished sealing the wound of a Scout- of- a- a Chapter? Not a legion, one he's uncertain of the difference of a Chapter and a Legion. And hasn't asked yet. He looks up- sensing a presence, heavy and watchful, just outside the tent's flap.

The boy on the cot will live- he'd carry the scar, as they all did. Caligo washes his hands off, slowly, deliberately, as he turns to look at who's just arrived.

Eryn ducked under the canopy, his bulk nearly brushing the torn fabric overhead. Mud streaked his greaves, and his armor- though caked in grime, showed hints of colors- unfamiliar to most.

Not entirely unfamiliar to him. Caligo looks at him, hints of cobalt and silver, muted and scarred, as if time itself hand tried to sand away their meaning. Caligo and Eryn stare at each other for a long moment, two astartes, to ghosts of different kinds.

Eryn recognizes Caligo- he's from one of the legions- unspoken of and he sees that Calig recognizes him as from the other legion unspoken of as well.

"... Apothecary," Eryn says, after a few more moments of silent staring, weighing, waiting, judgement.

Caligo inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the greeting and title. "You're not ... of more recent times."

Eryn gave a shrug that was almost careless, but not quite, "passing through, working for supplies."

His gaze flicked over the tent, over the wounded, over the med-kits, over the blood still on Caligo's hands.

"Short supply- specialists are here on... Ancient Terra," Eryn speaks up again softly.

"Yes," Caligo says with a nod, a simple, tired fact. "Are you wounded?"

"No," Eryn says, before pausing, weighing his words, and adding after a beat, "Not in ways you can see."

Caligo's gaze scans him, slightly longer this time, as he shifts a little, "those are the hardest to mend."

Eryn's gaze looks down, catching on the stasis case by Caligo's side. The faint hum of preserved gene-seed filled the silence.

"... You save them," Eryn says softly, "Even when the man is gone."

Caligo's hand briefly tightens on the case- just slightly, "it is what I do."

There is a heavy weight to his words that fills the silence full of words unspoken. Eryn weighs his next words- his next question carefully before he speaks it, "Which Legion?"

Caligo looks him over- slowly, carefully and he says slowly, "you first."

Eryn knew that was likely the price for a response. He looks at Caligo and away as his jaw works and he says after a few moments of struggle, "No legion, not anymore."

Caligo studies him, a faint crease to his brows as he eyes Eryn with deep concern, as he says slowly, "Then who remembers you?"

Eryn doesn't answer- the way his eyes slide and look away. He doesn't need to answer. Caligo nods- and doesn't press. He turns back to his kit, reaching for a cleaning cloth, and finishes washing his hand free of blood.

"You're welcome to help." Caligo says, almost casually, as if the weight of the question hadn't just hung between them like a Chaplain's gavel.

Eryn hesitated, then he stepped closer to the cot as he washes his hands and asks determinedly, "tell me what to do."

They work in silence, side by side, two loyalists both carrying ghosts, neither asking the other what those ghosts' names were, not yet at least. As the pair of them worked through the night, the tent emptied slowly as time passed on slowly. All who are left are the critically wounded and the Apothecary attending to him- and the helpers.

Eryn held down the shattered pauldron of a cousin while Caligo sealed the wound beneath it.

"You've done this before," Caligo observes out loud, scalpel moving with precision.

"Different battles," Eryn replies nodding once, "different centuries."

The words slipped out before he could stop them, too casual for what they caried. Caligo's hands didn't falter, but his head tilted slightly, the faintest motion of someone who'd heard something worth noticing.

'Centuries,' Caligo thinks eying Eryn. 'not years.'

Before either of them could say more, the tent flap snapped open, both astartes's heads snapping to see who's coming. The room in the tent feels smaller, more claustrophobic instantly. The gleaming golden figure that towers- looms at the entrance is a Custode. In gleaming golden armor, catching the low light, his halberd like a blade of judgment scans the room and stares at the pair of them.

Eryn doesn't move- while Caligo simply straightens up and looks at the Custode calmly. The Custode's gaze sweeps over the tent one more time- landing on the pair of them with the weight of an anvil.

The Custode's gaze lands first on Eryn- then on Caligo as they order- no demand, "Identify your Chapter." The tone is not loud and carries the weight of something that brooked no defiance.

Eryn's jaw tightened, he gives a small half shrug that he'd given to the baselines, the same evasive answer he'd used on the front desk, "Does it matter?"

The Custode's eyes narrow slightly as they take a slow, deliberate step forwards. The faint scrape of his armor somehow louder than the hiss of med-kits.

"It does," The Custode says, voice calm- and sharp as a scalpel. "Some things must be accounted for."

Caligo takes in a deep breath as he gently brushes a hand over the stasis case, deliberate, not aggressive, or protective, as he says softly, calmly, "Somethings, must be saved, before they're accounted for."

The Custode turns their helm towards Caligo. There is a moment- something hangs charged in the air that almost sparks. Tension so thin and taught that it might have snapped. There is something that shifts- and the tension eases, and the Custode- miraculously, takes a step back, and the halberd lowers. The Custode gives Caligo and Eryn one last long, lingering look before leaving without a word. The tension eases, and the tent feels 20 degrees colder when the Custode's gone.

"... I should've kept moving" Eryn says eyeing the empty flap after a few moments quietly.

"... Perhaps. You should," Caligo says as he doesn't look up as he finishes sealing the cousin Astarte's wound. After another pause, "not yet though."

Eryn looks over at Caligo and frowns a little as he asks, "Why?"

Caligo finishes the suture and cleaned his tools with care as he says looking into his fellow Astartes gaze levelly as he points out, "because if you keep running, they'll decide you have something to run from."

Caligo sets the implements down as he picks up the stasis case and opens it with reverent care, the lid hissing as it unsealed. Inside, rows of gene-seed vials glowed softly in suspension fields. Caligo's hands hovered over them with reverence.

"This," Caligo says gently brushing his fingertips over them, "is why I stay."

Eryn stepped closer, drawn, despite himself. He could see the faint lines etched on each vial, names, dates, legions. All accounted for, all remembered. Except his. Except the 11th.

"Have you ever found one or two... that... doesn't have a name anymore?" Eryn asks, voice says very low almost to quietly.

Caligo looks up eyes- sharp yet kind beneath his helmet. "Yes, once, or twice."

He closed the case again, slowly, carefully. "And I kept it."

Eryn is quiet, there is a long, weighted silence. Eryn does not ask where the nameless gene-seed was now. Caligo didn't explain. But in the pause between them, something shifted, not quite trust. but the beginning of it. Like the first thin crack in a wall of stone.

[fawnindawn]

till i lose it

clark kent x reader (3.4k)

summary: Clark finds himself feeling jealous for the first time when you get assigned on a case with Jimmy Olsen, and start spending more time with the photojournalist instead of him.

content: when i say jealous, i mean jealous, clark goes crazy over your absence and does everything he can to get your attention, jimmy is a smart mastermind, makeout in the broom closet, loser sweetheart clark, he's an absolute genius at coming up with excuses to get your attention, but is a complete idiot with his own feelings, coworker romance

Clark does not get jealous. At least, he doesn't think so. So, what was this irritating, gnawing feeling that keeps tripling in size as he watches the clock, waiting for you to come back from your assignment with Jimmy?

He hasn't seen or heard from you since you had rushed into the office this morning, giving him a rushed greeting before brushing past him to head to Jimmy, excitedly rambling about a spotting that would benefit the assignment. You had gone out nearly six hours ago, he would know- he's been checking the clock every minute. With that bright orange notepad of yours filled with all your ingenious ideas, you barely gave him a glance before you had run out of the office, Jimmy tagging along after you, leaving behind a trail of dust for Clark.

He maneuvers his chair absentmindedly, not even bothering with his own article anymore. If he had known you would be out so much, he would have asked Perry to pair up with you instead.

He snaps out of his thoughts, feeling guilt wash over him. How could he think that way? It makes sense for Jimmy to be picked. Jimmy's always been a better photographer than he was, and from what he's heard- this assignment was directly hands-on. With your quick wit and Jimmy's skills, it was the rational pairing.

That thought bubbles like venom, rational pairing. It's just that, isn't it? You were only avoiding him these past few days because you've been overly excited about the assignment, not to hang out one-on-one with Jimmy, right?

To test his theory, he spends the entire night baking muffins. You've always been a sweet tooth, he remembers fondly still when you were gushing over his description of the baked goods his Ma made. He's a little nervous as he tops the muffins with chocolate. They weren't perfect like his Ma's, but he tried his best.

He's not doing this because he's upset. He's been meaning to bake the muffins for you anyways. His own Ma had sent the recipe over two weeks ago, after he updated about your excitement regarding her baking, demanding him to make some for you. He's doing this because he wants to, and it has nothing to do with you and Jimmy. By the time he's stored the muffins into a container, his heart is little more well-rested and reassured that he's just being a good colleague and friend who is not jealous whatsoever.

He shows up the next day, muffins in a container as he waits anxiously at his desk, watching the door for your arrival. He hears you before you even enter, and he jumps up from his chair as you pass through the doors.. with Jimmy.

He tries to stand taller to hide the deflation in his confidence. Now you're arriving at the same time? It couldn't be that you were now walking together to work, were you?

You're too caught up in your conversation to notice Clark watching you from afar, container in hand.

"Hey, Clark!" Jimmy greets as he plops his bag down at his desk. "Did you see the news this morning about- Woah, hang on a second. Are those muffins?"

Clark winces at not being able to say it for himself, but he holds out the container to you. "Yeah, remember my Ma's recipe I told you about last week? You said you wanted to try it so I baked it for you."

"Clark!" He tries to not enjoy the delighted surprise evident in your voice too much. "You didn't have to."

"I wanted to." Maybe he's being too obvious, but that light in your eyes directed at him feels like the sun on his skin after winter.

"No way you're saving this all for yourself!" Jimmy cuts in, hitting you on the arm with his elbow. "They look delicious, dude. Can I have at least a bite?"

"Hey! He said he made them for me, keep your hands to yourself." You interject, taking the container from Clark. Your hand brushes his, and he tries not to smile at your protective instincts over the muffins.

"Come on-" Jimmy calls you by a nickname he's never heard, and his smile freezes. Nicknames? He has a nickname for you now? A panic room is being built in his head as the conversation continues, words exchanged about 'assignment' and 'leaving'.

"Clark?" You wave a hand in front of him, and he blinks, focusing back on your voice. "Thanks for the muffins, I really appreciate it."

"Yeah." He mutters weakly, his heart throbbing over the sudden closeness you had with Jimmy. Jimmy was also his friend, but seeing you drift further away from him made it hard to see the situation in a positive light.

"We gotta go." Jimmy points out, checking his watch before going to grab his camera.

"Right, nice seeing you, Clark." You say with a warm smile, unaware of the inner turmoil going on in his head. "We'll catch up some other time, yeah? And thanks again for the muffins, I can't wait to try them!"

He watches you leave, and tries his best not to storm after the both of you to join in on the assignment. It's silly, childish. He's not the jealous type and you're all working professionals in this office. He drops down into his seat, and he knows that heavy weight in his chest won't go so easily. He's not upset, there's nothing wrong.

You smiled at him and thanked him at least three times. You're clearly still happy to see him, the same as always. He rubs at his chest, where he feels his heart thudding like a traitor. Maybe he's thinking about it too much. You and Jimmy are just attached to the hip because you're both workaholics who love a good story.

'Attached to the hip..' He groans, and he could only hope that things will return to normal soon. He might go crazy if you walk through the doors with Jimmy again tomorrow.

The next day, he's admittingly a little too prepared for your arrival. He has his article open in one window, and a perfect excuse to get your attention today.

He's practiced it at least ten times in the mirror. 'I've really been struggling on this article for awhile and I would love for your insight on it.' It's not completely detached from the truth, he really was struggling- but it was for a reason different to writer's block.

He hears you before you enter again, and this time, he's relieved to hear it's only you. He turns around, clearing his throat and preparing himself.

"Hey, Clark!" You greet him, smiling wide as you place your bag down at your chair. Big smile, that's a good sign.

"Hey." He waits a few seconds, pretending to look at his computer with a purse of his lips. "I was wondering if you could help me out on something?"

"Oh?" There's that glimmer in your eyes from the possibility to brainstorm with someone. "What is it?"

"I've really been struggling on this article for awhile and I would love for your insight on it." He moves his monitor to your direction, and you lean in, narrowing your eyes as you read through the text.

"Oh! The Gotham fugitive!" You take a spare chair, moving it beside his, armrests bumping into each other as you take a seat. "Okay, I've heard some stuff about this that I could help you with- but honestly, Jimmy might be your best bet if you want accurate info."

There's only so much a man can take, he thinks as his smile drops. Is the universe playing with him? Is this 'mention Jimmy Olsen' week, and he wasn't aware? It's okay, he can still redirect this.

"I mean, I would love to help out." You continue on. "I could ask Jimmy to pass you his Gotham contact if you need it though. It might be better than third party information from me."

"No, I would love to hear your thoughts." He interjects so quickly, you could only blink. "I mean-" Play it cool. Play it cool. "I already have the evidence, I just want to hear about it from your perspective, to help think of a point of view to write it from."

"My perspective?" You smile at him so warmly, he almost forgets what he was upset over in the first place. "I think you're the only person who wants to hear it sometimes. Thanks, Smallvile. It means a lot."

He may have hit the jackpot today. He's earned a nickname.

"It's- no problem." He stammers, averting your gaze to look back at the monitor. "So, I was thinking- there's already been some articles with explanations on how the fugitive escaped to Metropolis. I was thinking of focusing more on why."

"I knew you'd say that." You said with a knowing look.

He looks back at you, almost surprised. "How?"

"You always look for the good in people, Clark." You affirm. "When everyone's so focused on the hard facts and evidence, you're the only one who sees past it for what matters. That's why you're a good journalist. You write what matters."

You've been gone nearly a week for your assignment, but here with him, he realises why he's been so upset over your absence. You're looking right at him, when others have only ever seen past him. He's a nobody as Clark Kent. He's untouchable as Superman. Yet, under your gaze, he's just Clark, and that's all he needs to be.

"I have some ideas for the why." You continue on, as if you hadn't shaken his whole world. "If we bring it back to Gotham's current political situation, as well as the increase in unemployment.."

Staring at you wordlessly, he comes to a realisation that should've been obvious to him the moment you stepped into the Daily Planet, with your orange notebook and fiery determination to make a mark in this world. He's in love with you.

Your assignment with Jimmy ends today. Clark feels guilty for the way his steps have a little skip to them as he heads to work. After you submit your assignment to Perry, he's going to ask you to dinner.

There's that lump in his throat as he thinks about it- but after being apart from you for an entire week, he needs to be brave. Not having your silly expressions across his desk to wake him up when he's feeling tired during the 4 pm drought, the stealing of his peanut butter stack to lather on your toast during break, the debates about his alter ego that has him breathless with laughter when you comment on Superman's trunks- not being near you. It nearly drove him insane.

He's scared, but he's done things scared before. He can do it again, especially if it's you.

He arrives at the office, peering at Perry's office where both you and Jimmy were receiving feedback. There's the muffled sounds of 'good work' and 'looking forward to it', though his super-hearing doesn't give much else before the door opens and the both of you walk out with giddy smiles.

He's about to ask you both on how the assignment went when Jimmy exclaims loudly- "Can't believe we get to work on another assignment together!"

Clark drops his briefcase against the floor, causing a loud thud to echo across the hall. He doesn't hear much else other than that, he doesn't need to. He's already walking over to you, briefcase all but forgotten.

"I need to talk to you." He breathes out.

You shift your head to look at him, eyes widened in surprise at his sudden appearance. "Oh? Sure, what do you want to talk about-"

He's grabbing your hand, leading you away to somewhere more private. He doesn't notice Jimmy's smirk directed at you.

There's not many places that aren't exposed to the open in the office, and he's not thinking clearly either when he opens a random door, and leads you in. A cleaning closet- he's led you to a cleaning closet.

He’s practically a barrier, leaving little space for you in the tiny, dusty closet, causing you to stumble over a few brooms left unused on the creaky floor. He grabs you by the waist, holding you steady and unintentionally closer to him so you don’t fall.

“I just don’t understand.” He blurts out.

"Understand?" You furrow your brow.

"Why you're working with him again."

“We make a good team.” You say with a shrug. With the close proximity, you have to crank your chin to the highest point just to meet his eyes. “I think this is the highest praise Perry's ever given for an article."

"Well-" He can't take this anymore. "Does it have to be Jimmy?"

"Why not him? He's the best photographer we've got, you know that."

“Well, I don’t know- you seem to know him better than me now.”

You stare at him incredulously. “So, is this you being upset that I’m stealing Jimmy away from you?”

“What? No!” His voice reverberates through the small confinement, and you hit him softly at his chest as a sign to quiet down. If anyone were to hear his voice and come in, the situation would look- safe to say, you didn’t want to be the gossip feed for an office full of journalists.

“So? I don’t get why you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset.” He mumbles more to convince himself than you. He meets your unimpressed gaze and sighs. “Okay, fine. Maybe a little.”

“About what?” You push.

“I-” He averts his gaze, growing frustration visible through the grit of his teeth. “I just feel like I haven’t seen you at all the entire week.”

“Clark.” Realisation dawns you and a shit-eating grin appears on your face. “Are you jealous?”

“Not really.” Yet, his gaze is behind you, trained on the dusty, dark walls. “I’m just wondering what you and Jimmy could possibly be up to that you won’t come back to the office till six.”

“You keep track?” There’s nothing that can stop the tilt of your voice, obviously having caught on to his dilemma.

He rolls his eyes but he can’t help but smile down at you, and you bet if you trace his face, you could feel the deep indent of his dimple that you loved so much. “Your absence is very distracting.”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t focus on my work when you’re not around.” He huffs. “I’m just used to you coming to my desk and distracting me by stealing my peanut butter.”

“Hey, your mum makes amazing homemade peanut butter.”

“I missed you talking to me to solve your brain fogs when you can’t figure something out.” His voice is growing softer, his gaze focused on you as if he could see you in the dark. “And my stupid brain keeps wondering if you do that with Jimmy instead of me because you’re out all day, and I’m stuck in here waiting.”

“For me?”

“Yeah.” He responds weakly, but he’s never been the type of back down from his words. "I've been waiting to see you the entire week." Despite his supposed demeanour, you knew to never underestimate how direct he could be.

“Well, I’ll have you know that I talk to him about you all the time whenever we’re not doing our assignment.” You admit. “He’s probably relieved you dragged me in here so that I wouldn’t keep talking his ear off about you.”

His voice hitches, his eyes blinking in confusion behind his glasses. “What did you talk about?”

“Just how I missed annoying you, and that you’re probably super bored in the office without me.” You smirk, knowing he can’t deny it either after his own confession. “That I can’t wait to come back and see you- only for Mr. Jealous here to give me the cold shoulder.”

Sweet Clark of course frowns, looking dejected over his own behaviour.

Before he could apologise, you stop him by placing a finger to his lips. “And most importantly, being away from you the entire week made me realise that I don’t want to do that ever again. And that I should probably ask you out before Jimmy wrings my neck out of annoyance.”

You feel his lips part against your finger, clearly not expecting any of your words. A few seconds pass, then his frown morphs into the largest grin you’ve ever seen. “You beat me to it.”

“As always.” You shrug. “I mean, this is why I got the assignment from Perry in the first place before you-”

He grabs your finger, gently and kisses the side of it. Whatever you wanted to boast about leaves your mind as quickly as it came, and this time, you’re the one left speechless.

His gaze is trained on you, hungry and desperate. “I really want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

You barely manage a nod before he’s on you, lips meeting yours with a push. He’s clumsy, with his glasses bumping against your nose, and it almost makes you want to laugh- but it transitions into something heated when one of his hands lifts from your waist to caress your hair, pulling you impossibly closer. The long endurance of your playful banters and glances feel like they’re being rewarded in this very moment, where he’s holding you as if you’re the only thing that exists.

He's good, and not only because he's really making it feel good, but because you can feel just how earnest he is- that he really wants this. He's handling you so gently, as if he's savouring you and doesn't want it to end. You don't think you've ever met someone who could translate their feelings through a simple kiss, but it's almost like he's conveying everything he's kept hidden to you right now. You don’t know how much time passes before you have to pull away for air. He follows after you, but you have to raise your hand to clamp his face before he kisses you again.

"You know this was all Jimmy's plan?" You slip out.

Clark blinks, still reeling from the kiss. "What?"

"He said we were going round in circles for too long, so he dragged me out all the time to see how'd you react."

He groans, head lowering and bumping softly against yours. "Of course he did."

"He'll be estastic." You laugh. "I owe him 50 bucks."

"What were the odds?"

"That you'd give in before the week ends." You admitted. "I thought he was being delusional."

"Why?"

"Cause I thought you didn't like me as much as I liked you." You look at him with that same adoring gaze you gave him when you complimented his writing. "If I saw you running around with someone else for an assignment, I would've gone crazy in less than two days."

He chuckles. "Oh, trust me. You had me insane on the first."

"That's the best thing I heard all day."

"Oh, really? Me telling you that I missed you didn't do the trick?"

"No, but it comes close." You tease. "Also, we should probably get out of here before anyone thinks we're doing more than hooking up."

You can't see clearly in the dark, but you could bet his cheeks were on fire. As he opens the door, letting you exit first, you meet Jimmy’s eyes across the room- who’s grinning like a cheshire cat at your tangled hair and reddened cheeks.

“Finally!” He words silently to you, as to not attract the others who were typing away at their desks.

You roll your eyes, feeling the heat of Clark near your back and knowing Jimmy must have put two and two together faster than he swipes through his DMs. Clark leans down, whispering to you. “So, do you want to come by my place after work? I could cook us dinner.”

“Hm, I don’t know.” You tease. “I’ll have to check with Jimmy to see if he needs me for our article.”

He gives your waist a soft squeeze, a little warning. “Don’t worry, I can negotiate with him. So how about 6?”

“What's on the menu?"

"A special." He grins. "Breakfast for dinner."

"Pancakes?"

"Anything you want."

"That's a dangerous proposition." You pretend to consider. "I have a notorious sweet tooth."

"I think I can handle that." He murmurs. "So say yes, please."

Intertwining your hand with the one he held on your waist, you lean back against his chest. "Only since you asked so nicely."

You really do owe Jimmy that 50 bucks.

[realcube]

— BEST FRIEND! SUNA

desc ;; after being blocked by a situationship, you show your best friend your nudes and ask for advice. tws & tags ;; nsfw mdni. distribution of explicit material, oral, objectification, mentions of squirting, breeding, anal & filming.

the door to suna's room creaks as you step inside.

after having spent all day bed rotting with your best friend, you decided to step out for some fresh air (and a quick smoke), and unsurprisingly, suna is still exactly as you left him — on his phone, leaning back against his headboard. he doesn't spare you a glance as you enter the room.

your phone is still perched precariously on the edge of his bed, and you approach it with caution. part of the reason you rushed outside was because during an awfully risque text conversation with a guy you've been talking to, you obliged and sent him some lewd pics. but he left you on read.

in your defence, it was a heat-of-the-moment decision, and he did request it, so it's not as though you were sending unsolicited images like some sort of perv. but the fact he was taking so long to respond did make you feel like one, though a small voice in your head tried to reassure you that surely he wasn't ignoring you, perhaps your pics have just given him something to take care of.

regardless, the larger part of you was moritified and unsure what to do, so you just dropped your phone on the bed and removed yourself from the situation — clearing your mind before you returned.

now, it was time for the moment of truth. you sat yourself awkwardly down on the corner of the bed, and hesitantly reached for your phone. no new notifications: that didn't fill you with much hope at all. after inputting your password, you navigated to the app and searched for his contact, and suspiciously it wasn't it your 'recently messaged' tab.

your heart was already thundering in your chest, but this only made it far worse. all your messages and chat history with this guy had disappeared, and when you tried to desperately type one out to him, it was immediately marked as 'failed to send'.

you frown, body going slack as you fall back onto the bed and defeatedly drawl, "he blocked me.."

suna finally perked up from his oblivious post at the other side of his bed, "who blocked you?"

"the guy i was texting.."

"that sucks." suna responded bluntly. though you couldn't blame him, he clearly didn't understand the severity of the situation, so you tried to explain it to him,

"you don't get it! i actually really liked him, and we were having such a nice time talking until.." you trail off, failing to find the courage to admit the shameful truth.

"until?" suna pried.

"rinny! can i ask you something?" you inquire, swiftly sitting upright as you shift the conversation, "can i send you some photos and you can tell me what you think of them?"

if suna was being completely honest, he was only half paying attention to whatever it was you were saying, so naturally he didn't notice the sudden change in topic of discussion — or he just didn't care. your new request wasn't foreign to him though; often you'll ask him to review random pics that you plan on adding to a photo dump online. or asking him to rank what order you should add the pics to your instagram carousel. or in which of these three images are you serving the most cunt. stuff like that, thus he agreed.

"sure. send them and i'll look."

"yay." you hummed with delight, and eagerly forwarded him the pics, "let me know what you think. i thought they looked fine but now i'm having second thoughts.."

he tapped the notification at the top of his screen and was directed to the chat with you. in which, he was met with an influx of images he was not expecting.

you, his best friend, who he's known for as long as he can remember, perched on your bathroom counter and posing for a mirror photo — wearing nothing but a floral thong and no top. your back was facing the mirror so he couldn't see your chest, but the plump globe of your ass was fully exposed and unshielded by the skimpy sliver of fabric.

his blood rushed to his head, and also his dick. his whole body was tense and thus his eyes were glued to the lewd picture of you, not only because he was mesmerised but also since he was so rigid he couldn't bring himself to move his thumb.

the furious pounding of his heartbeat rattled in his eardrums. he's never seen you so bare before. of course you've worn revealing clothes around him before — like when you go to the beach together, or sometimes when you're just hanging out in a warm environment — but never in such a purposeful or pornographic manner.

don't get him wrong, you've always been alluring to him but he just assumed that was just a part of your nature and he was being a sly pervert for secretly viewing you in an explicit way. like when you'd pull your hoodie off and your shirt would ride up and he'd get a peek of your underboob. or when you'd sit with your legs up on the couch while wearing shorts and he could see the outline of your sweet folds. it was undoubtably hot but that was never the intention, or so he assumed.

even though your back was to the mirror in the image, he could still tell that you weren't wearing any top, and the placement of your other hand just underneath the rotund curve of your ass was so deliberate and hot. it's like he was seeing you in a whole other light; he didn't know you were capable of being so sexy on purpose — he always assumed it was more of an accidental thing for you.

it's like his whole impression of you was shattering. maybe you weren't the sweet girl with a grimy sense of humour he thought you were; maybe you were truly a slutty bombshell. it was surreal and nauseating yet he still ached to see more.

though, before he began scrolling through the several other images you sent him, he gulped and turned the phone to show you the screen, "uhm, did you mean to send me this?"

you furrowed your brows together and leaned forward to inspect the screen, afraid you might've sent him pics of your medical anomaly that you meant to show the doctor. but once you examined the pic, you sighed and sat back in place, "yeah, those are the right ones." you state plainly, and suna proceeds to stare blankly at you, entirely speechless.

it freaked you out a little, so you attempted to fill the uncomfortable silence, "what do you think? that's what i sent to the guy before he blocked me. i thought they were kinda cute.. but there must be something wrong with them." he still looks astonished, so you clarify, "and he asked for me to send them, by the way. i didn't just do it randomly."

suna nods slowly as if that were of any reassurance what-so-ever. you press him to continue looking, and he cautiously does so. his thumb moves on his own as he swipes through the multiple suggestive images you sent him. and his dick begins to throb looking at each one.

they are all so hot; makes him feel so perverted for enjoying it. many are taken in your bathroom mirror, a string bikini top with a measly little thong on. he recalls you wore that exact set to the beach with him one time, except you were wearing a floral sarong too. it was sheer but there was still enough fabric to obscure you're delicious ass. but in this picture it was all out for the camera.

there was even a couple shots from that one halloween where you went as a zombie cowgirl. the costume itself was cool but suna recalls it wasn't revealing or intentionally 'sexy' or anything like that — which is why his heart leaped upon seeing your various upskirt pics, that were probably taken after he walked you home after a night out. some were shot directly up your skirt, showing the plushness of your ass up close, while others were taken in your bedroom mirror. either with you lifting your skirt up teasingly, or full-on bent over for the camera. from certain angles, he could even see the imprint of your lips through your thin panties which drove him absolutely insane.

to think, if he was smart enough that night, he could've stayed over at yours and buried himself in that cute ass, that you were clearly so desperate to show off. could've ate that pristine hole and felt your soft ass cradle his face. it's as though he could hear the adorable little noises you would've made, ringing in his ears.

he been gawking at his phone screen for a while, saying nothing, so you pry, "i look fine, right, rin? c'mon, please don't tell me i look weird! i thought these pictures were cute, so i don't know why he didn't like them.." you whine with a frustrated pout. you really don't understand men, thus you were hoping suna would be of some assistance, but he wasn't even saying anything or providing useful insight. just gaping at his screen.

"uh, they look.." he started, voice trailing off as his eyes were still glued to your perky ass clad in nothing but a thong, and his mind began to run wild with fantasies, "uhm.."

you interpretted his lust-fuelled daze as disinterest, and sighed. "really? they're that bad. what's wrong with 'em? i don't get it.. oh! is it because i'm leaving to much to the imagination? are they not overt enough?" you bite your lip as you antsily scroll through your secure folders and forward him some additional pictures, "look, i have dirtier ones. whatdya think? are these ones better?"

as promised, the new images you sent him were dirtier. filthy, in fact.

now you were wearing absolutely nothing. suna choked on his own spit at the sight of you stood bare in front of your bathroom mirror, posing suggestively for the camera. your whole pussy was exposed and so were your erect nipples, that he had previously only seen when they were teasing him by straining against the fabric of your tank tops.

he knew you were attractive but it was shocking to realise that is the body you've been hiding this whole time. had he knew that earlier, he would've ripped your clothes off a lot sooner.

in some of them your hair was wet and the bathroom mirror was steamy, as though you had just gotten out of the shower. for the most part he's been hyper-focussed on your seductive body, however, he's suddenly beginning to notice things in the background. like the pattern of the bathroom tiles.. and the shape of the mirror.. and the colour of the countertops.. shit, were some of these taken in his bathroom?

there was no denying it. the reality came crashing down on him like a sack of bricks and knocked the wind right out of him. at some point, he was chilling in his room, probably playing video games or texting his friends without a care in the world, patiently waiting for his turn to shower, while you were in the adjoining bathroom, posing for nude selfies and showing off your slutty tits for the camera. in his mirror.

fuck, if only he knew. now he feels like an idiot. the things he would've done to that hot body in the shower, his dick aches just thinking about it. he'd need to finish in you so many times, until his cum was drooling out of you and he'd only stop once the water ran cold.

there were shots with your legs spread too. on halloween again, your skirt was hiked up and your panties were pulled to the side, exposing your glistening cunt. he'd do anything to lock his mouth to those puffy folds of yours. taste that sticky, juicy cunt. even without flash, your pussy was visibly soaked with your arousal. it coated your lips and stuck to your inner thighs.

and the sight of your tantalising hole was enough to make him light-headed. so puckered and cute for the camera. and it was about the tightest little thing he's ever seen. from the way your own juices soak your pretty pussy, he could tell you were undoubtly needy that halloween night. he hates himself for not burying his cock into that snug hole and stretching you out. pounding his fat dick into over and over, and making you take it. or his tongue, then he wouldn't stop until you squirt in his mouth, and he'd keep going for several rounds until you—

"hellooo? earth to rinny. anybody there?" you wave your hand in between his dry eyes and the phone, which momentarily rips him out of his horny trance.

"huh?" he groans, confused as to what you are disturbing him for, when he was so close drinking up your first orgasm (in his imagination.)

"do you think i should've sent the dirtier pics?" you pondered aloud, waiting for suna's much-needed input, "maybe he blocked me because he thought i was a prude, or something like that."

"you're definitely not a prude." suna utters his first coherent (and sfw) thought in the last ten minutes. "why.. did you send me these?"

"so i can get your opinion, dummy!" you roll your eyes, prodding at his shoulder, "that's what i've been syaing this whole time. it's not like i'm showing you my nudes for fun."

"right.." his brows twitch, trying his best not to even glance down at his phone screen, as he knows he'll be distracted again, "i think you look fine."

"fine?!—"

"—great! you look great." suna swiftly corrects himself, then continues, "why do you care that some guy blocked you? he was probably just an asshole."

"what if he blocked me because he thinks i'm hideous?" you whine.

"you're not." he states plainly. "but if you're that worried about it, i could help you take some better photos."

"really?"

"yeah." he slowly stands up from the bed, weary as to conceal his throbbing erection as he moves, "what're friends for?"

you smile gently up at him, and without further question, you begin to remove your clothes. in truth, you are a bit hesitant because you've never purposefully stripped for him before — yeah, sometimes you guys would change in front of each other, but that was never as intimate as this. however, you persevered because you felt as though during your embarrassing moment, you reached a new level of friendship and camaraderie with suna. one in which you could be more vulnerable with each other.

first to come off was your jumper, then your shorts, and next thing you knew, you were laying completely nude out in front of suna. he loomed over you, grasping onto his phone camera for dear life. his eyes were zeroed in on your tits, but you tried your best to ignore that and giggled, "how should i pose first?"

rintaro forced himself to gulp down whatever hedonistic thoughts were brewing in his mind, for now. he didn't want to risk appearing too eager, even if your naked body in such close proximity to him almost caused knees to give out under him. he needs to act casual. "lay on your front."

you do as you are told, and you mewl slightly as his cold hands runs over the back of your thigh, massaging your silkly flesh. he kneeds the doughy meat of your ass with his palms, then promptly spreads your cheeks to expose your puckered asshole. you can almost hear his devilish grin as he snaps a photo and hums, "there we go. so tight for the camera. you wouldn't mind if i.." his muses, as his fingers idly dance over your rear, playfully poking your ass until they sneak down to prod at your hole.

then, without warning, he shoves two digits straight in, takes the pic then yanks them back out. your back arches instictively at the lewd intrusion, "ngh, rinny!" you squeal, scrunching your features, "just take normal ones.."

"this is the sort of stuff guys like, though." he reassures, stroking your perky ass, savouring the sensation of your supple skin under his hand. "action shots."

"hmm.." you considered his suggestion, bearing in mind that he's a horny fuck that probably just wanted to stick his fingers inside you, "maybe my old pics are a bit vanilla.." you admitted.

"yeah. they're hot but you could look a lot hotter." he said, blinkly slowly, "you know what guys like? squirting pics."

"...really?" you raised an eyebrow, peering over your shoulder so he could see your clearly dubious expression.

"mhm. most guys are super turned on by it. you could land any guy if you had a pic like that." he explains with an absurd amount of sincerity and confidence, despite the fact he pulled all of that out of his ass.

"and how would i get a photo like that?" you slowly roll over onto your back, so you're looking up at him while he's stood at the edge of the bed, holding your thigh in one hand and his phone in the other — with his camera pointed directly at you.

"i guess i'd have to tongue fuck you.." he says 'begrudgingly'.

"oh i'd never made you do that, rinny." you're onto his agenda, since he does a terrible job at hiding it. the massive tent in his pants was making it too obvious that he wanted to fuck you. but you like to tease him about it. "i could just use a vibrator, while you take the picture."

his face drops, "uh," he splutters, not anticipating pushback, "girls can't squirt.. with vibrators." he blinks. the lies were somehow becoming less and less believable, despite how they weren't very convincing to begin with.

"that's a shame." you bow your head in attempt to suppress a chortle at his ridicoulous claim. finally, you decide to give him what he wants, "would you please tongue fuck me, then, rinny?" you bat your eyelashes at him.

"...sure."

[angelltheninth]

Friends with Benefits with Love and Deepspace Men

Pairing: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, creampie, friends with benefits, protectiveness, love confession, fingering, realization of feelings, denaial of feelings, mating press, desk sex, jealusy, flirting, referanced cunnilingus

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I would legit want to be their friends. The benefit is heaing me yap about how pretty they all are and whatever my newest hyperfixation is.

FwB!Zayne always tries to keep things strictly professional between the two of you. There's him when he is your friend and colleague and him when he's making love to you on the surface of his desk. It's easy for him to cross between the lines, one moment he's giving you advice or talking about problem he has and the next he has his hand down your underwear and the other over your mouth, keeping you quiet. He's actually very good at going between the two modes and will never cross a line without your permission. Any feelings he might develop he will only show when he's being your lover, not when he's your friend.

FwB!Rafayel hides behind the flirting he does to make you believe he's not as serious as he is. There will always be a time for him to be your friend and listen to any problems you make have, go on movie dates with you, take you shopping and order your favorite food when you're sad. And then there is the time when he offers to take your mind off whatever is bothering you by holding you close while you ride his cock and breathe heavily against his neck. Occasionally you have said you loved each other, and both of you know it's true, but you want to take a bit more before your relationship takes that next step.

FwB!Xavier gets too into his own head about the whole deal because how is supposed to act that he wasn't balls deep in you the night before when you walk funny in front of him. Downright impossible for him to ignore the signs you give him. And he really does try his best but he doesn't want to make it seem like he only wants you for sex so he ends up texting you a lot while you're apart. Which only confuses things more. Truly he wishes there was an easy way for him to deal with this. Perhaps the best thing is for him to confess that he wants to be your boyfriend, not just the guy who makes you come and then never talks about it again until the next time.

FwB!Sylus teases you so much that you have no idea when he wants to be your friend and when he wants to fuck. There have been times where he deliberately made you think one thing only to do the other. Mindgames like these are fun for him, and watching you get all out of sorts because of it is even better. For as many times as he's fucked you into the bed he was also the one to comfort you when you were full of doubts and wanted nothing in return. Part of him hates that you still see him as a friend after all of that but he also won't force you to see him as anything else. Besides it's only a matter of time before you do.

FwB!Caleb is too jealous to stay just friends after the very first night you spend together. Stares at other guys that flirt with you so much a few of them actually took off running in the opposite direction. He didn't spend the whole night eating you out until you could no longer scream his name just for some other guy to swoop in and take you home. Try as he might to hide his jealous side it's very much impossible, his smile gets sour and tight every time you tell him a guy flirted with you. A man like him can only tolerate so much before he confesses to you while fucking you. Not even romantically, he growls it out while having you folded in half and just as he fills you up with cum.

[fixated-cookies]

brwo,,, u gotta write more of that yandere heat thingy w/ shadownilla,,, pls brwo,,, I'll give u my life savings,,, 5 dollars,,,,

:DDDD

That dream had me in a chokehold, it was so short unfortunately but it was crazy. pt.1 of the reader heat thingy

THIS WORK CONTAINS CONTENT SUCH AS NONCON, MIND BREAK, AND MANIPULATION !! VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!

IF ANY OTHER TAGS NEEDS TO BE ADDESSED PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!

I kinda went crazy on this, I spent all day making it actually, Grammarly is carrying my writing. I know my computer is sick of me.

I think although pure vanilla is gentlemanly, he even has a side that can end up rivaling Shadow Milk Cookie in intensity. Like, he just loves you sooooo much. He’s held himself back for so long, always playing the role of the ever-patient, ever-loving guardian. But tonight? Tonight, patience be damned.At first, he tries to keep up the act, whispering soothing reassurances, brushing his fingers over your heated dough with delicate care. “It’s alright, my love… Just let us take care of you,” he murmurs, but the more you whimper, the more you writhe between them, and the more his control starts to crack. Along with the ache in his dick.

Shadow milk, his other half oh, his dear other self can obviously tell, he snickers at the sight “Oho? You’re shaking, Vanilly,” he trails a finger down your bare body “Losing yourself, are we?~”

And Pure Vanilla does nothing to deny it.

Because he is losing himself...so damn badly.

His usual kindness is laced with something deeper, something dangerous. His voice becomes ragged, “You need me,” he growls, his voice dropping into something husky, needy. “Let me prove it to you. Let me show you that no one—no one—can take care of you the way I can.” Gone is the gentle healer, the composed ruler of the Vanilla Kingdom. In his place is a man stripped of restraint, a man who has spent far too long suppressing his own desires.

"Wa-wait..." you try to stall, to push upwards on the mattress. “Ahh, so you do have a spine under all that sickly-sweet kindness,” he sneers, dragging a clawed hand through Vanilla’s golden hair, yanking just enough to make him hiss. “Go on, then. Show them. Convince them.” He doesn't need to be told twice.

He leans in, his sweet lips hovering over yours, taking in your delicious scent. His pupils are blown wide, "You don’t need to worry."His voice borders on a plea, "Just let me love you...”

you kicked your legs in a panic with a cry. Your entire body is burning, but the humiliation? Oh, that burns even hotter. You’ve never done this with anyone before. Never let anyone see you like this, so vulnerable, so desperate, so utterly needy. in the back of your mind, you're sure that they know...

"Sweetheart, shhh, it's alright,” He tries to coax you into a soft submissive state, a quiver to voice filled with temptation. “Poor little thing’s acting like a cornered bunny~” Shadow milk drawls from beside you. He uses his cool hands to trail up your body causing you to jolt in pure vanilla's chest. Perhaps it was for the best they took you when they could, just imagining you crying and rutting into a pillow with no proper help or cock took years off their life.

Pure vanilla lifts up your thighs...his breath hitches, his golden lashes fluttering as he stares—utterly captivated—by the sheer amount of slick dripping from your trembling thighs, pooling beneath you, staining the sheets in unmistakable need. He gulps dryly. “Oh… Oh, sweetheart…” His voice is breathy, almost reverent, as if he’s witnessing something divine.

You whimper at the exposure, your hands flying to cover your face, your entire body burning with mortification. But Pure Vanilla? He only exhales, long and shaky, his mismatched eyes darkening as he swallows thickly. his usual composure fraying at the edges as his fingers trace delicate patterns along the inside of your thigh. “Do you even realize… how much you need us right now?”

A sharp chuckle interrupts the moment.

“Dripping like a little broken thing… You really thought you could just suffer through this alone?" You instinctively try to close your legs shut. "Ah, ah, ah~” he mocks, gripping the other leg, tilting so he can take a nice peek for himself. He doesn't say anything, but you can tell his posture falters for just a slight second.

A trembling, helpless little thing, caught between two predators—one who soothes, the other who taunts, yet both equally relentless. "Please," you whimper, voice weak, laced with desperate excuses. "I-I can handle it, I always— I don’t need—"

"Don’t need?" Shadow Milk interrupts you harshly "Ohhh, little liar, you reek of need~" A soft sob leaves out as you feel a thumb press onto your clit. "let us help you… Don't fight this… Don't fight us…" You twist, writhe, trying to squirm away—but there’s nowhere to go only able to whine again once the thumb starts to rub tight circles, you don't know whose thumb it is, and you don't want to know...

"Ohhh, don’t you see?" You hear a soft chuckle. "She likes this little game~" Your body's heating up, burning with ache and need. you can feel the sweat starting to make your dough sticky. "So scared, so shy, yet her body says otherwise~" You shake your head rapidly, breath coming out in panicked little gasps. "N-no, I just—” "Shhh~" He shushes you, voice almost mockingly gentle. "No more little lies, sweetheart. We know better… don’t we, dear Pure Vanilla?"

Pure Vanilla inhales sharply. But you see it—the way his chest heaves and then he does something that makes your heart stop.

He nods.

"She needs this," he breathes, almost like he’s trying to convince himself. "She’s suffering… She needs us…"

Before you can react, Shadow Milk’s hands tighten on your thighs, spreading you further. And Pure Vanilla? The man who was once so patient, so restrained?

His hands follow upward.

As shadow milk hunches over your most vulnerable spot, you can feel pure vanilla experienced hands knead and grope at your tits, squeezing and massaging. coaxing wanton moans out of you

Oh, the moment Shadow Milk gets that first taste, the teasing, the taunts—everything just stops. His entire body tenses, fingers digging into your thighs with a sharp inhale as if he’s just discovered the most intoxicating thing in existence. All of that sharp tongue, usually so wicked with words, now has a far better use. The way he groans against you, as if drinking you in, sends vibrations shooting up your spine.

"So… so sweet," he pants, his voice strained. His thumbs roll over your sensitive peaks, his own body shuddering from the scent surrounding him, clouding his mind. Shadow Milk hums against you, "Mmm, hear that?" he murmurs, pulling back just enough for his breath to fan over your oversensitive skin. "She’s singing for us, dear Pure Vanilla. Let’s see how much sweeter we can make her sound~ "his smug grin smeared in your slick. His lips glisten, his tongue darting out to lazily lap up what he can before letting out a chuckle.

Pure Vanilla, who had been barely holding himself back, shudders at the sight, his restraint snapping at the sight of you, so dazed, so flushed, so utterly vulnerable. He hears your intense sobs of pleasure and wants nothing more than to drown you in it. "Care to trade, my dear Pure Vanilla?" The second the offer is given the blonde man immediately lunges, switching places. His touch far gentler than Shadow Milk’s but just as overwhelming.

"Sweet divinity..." he gasps, his lips brushing your dough in a reverent whisper. "How could you ever think of enduring this alone?" Shadow Milk just laughs darkly beside him, licking his lips as he watches the once pristine and gentle Pure Vanilla descend into unhinged devotion.

You whimper once more trying to clamp your legs shut out of pure instinct only to be met with a sudden, sharp suck to your already overstimulated and soaked clit. The sensation jolts through your body like lightning, your back arching off the bed as a strangled moan rips from your throat. "Nngh!" His once-gentle hands firmly hold your thighs apart, his grip unyielding despite the shaky restraint in his own breath. You can feel your undoing quickly approaching

"Now, now, you wouldn’t want to offend him, would you?" He taps a teasing finger against your trembling lips. "He’s just trying so very hard to take care of you, after all."

With one last harsh suck and a grit of your teeth, you feel yourself cumming over his face, with a sweet cry. Your vision dims as your squeeze your eyes closed, feeling hands within your hair combing through. You may have thought you passed out for a couple of minutes because the next time you open your eyes both of them are completely undressed.

You feel still the heat in your dough, though lessened a little..."Please..." you mumbled out. Pure vanilla looks at you with seeming hearts in his eyes, listening for your every beck and call. "My sweet darling...?"

"More."

And nooow you have two cookies simultaneously grinding into your cunt with such a rough fever you can barely think. It’s overstimulation in its most intoxicating form "All you had to say was the magic word!" He whines into your ear from behind. Pure vanilla was under you, gosh, he looked like was seeing the gates of heaven, Is he alive?!

Shadow milk will be whispering the filthiest things into your ear, mocking how your trembling between them, while Pure Vanilla, for all his usual tenderness, would be groaning and gasping, overwhelmed by the heat of it all eyes rolling into the back of his head. your breath hitching into the sweetest, most helpless cries as they both stretch and fill you impossibly, leaving no space untouched, no part of your body left unstimulated.

"I—ahh, I knew you’d feel perfect like thi- he'd gasp out. Shadow milk gazes at him from over your shoulder, grinning down. “Ah, Pure Vanilla… you’re awfully quiet now,” he taunts, of course, those two are basically frotting their cocks inside of your cunt!

His breath was heavy, ragged, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as though grounding himself. “You—” He swallowed thickly, biting back a sound of frustration. “Stop talking…”. "Aww, but we're so… close." His voice was dark, teasing, reveling in the way Pure Vanilla tensed. The tension between them was thick, charged with something dangerous.

A choked sob slipped from your lips, and you didn’t even realize you were crying until the tears began to spill freely, slipping down flushed cheeks. The overwhelming heat, the sensations wracking your body, the sheer impossibility of holding onto any semblance of rational thought—it was all too much. Pure Vanilla’s eyes snapped open at the sight, drool slightly spilling from his lips. “Oh, love…” he breathed, his touch on your hips tightening, as though he could anchor you to reality. “You’re finally letting go, hmm? Finally accepting it?” He mocks into your ear.

“You don’t have to think anymore,” he murmured shakily, "Just feel… just let us take care of you.” Shadow Milk chuckled darkly at that, the amusement in his voice sending shivers down your spine. “Let us?” he echoed, nipping at your ear before murmuring his next words, dripping with honeyed malice. “Oh, sweet thing… at this point, you don’t have a choice.”

And with that, whatever shred of control you had left shattered completely.

You weren’t sure when you stopped resisting. Maybe it was sometime between the fevered kisses, the whispered reassurances, or the merciless taunts. Maybe it was when your body finally gave out, too drained to do anything but receive. Your head rested against Pure Vanilla’s chest, rising and falling with his breath, his warmth enveloping you completely. Your tears slipped down his chest, dampening his dough.

He sighed softly, one hand cradling the back of your head, “I have you. We have you. There’s no need to cry anymore.” he whispers softly. But you had to cry, because even in the throes of pleasure, your mind still struggled to comprehend the weight of it all. The weight of them. Their obsession, their need, their utter refusal to let you go.

“Ah, finally,” Shadow milk mused, almost to himself, but the sheer satisfaction in his voice was unmistakable. “I knew you’d come around eventually. You just needed a little… convincing.” You felt the smirk against your skin as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. Pure Vanilla kissed the top of your head, his hold tightening as if he’d never let you go.

And for the next several days, you would have no choice but to accept it.

--

Guys please...guys please... I don't know what happened, I just kept writing and thoughts kept flowing. I know its long please!!! have mercy!!! I need them so bad, that dreamed fucked me up. It fucked me up so bad!! I'm crying!! I hope you guys can notice how I made shadow milk and Pure vanilla relationship represent a push and pull toxicity. I may have ended up butchering their characters in the progress though D:

[asce-of-hearts]

Can I request a smut with yandere illumi with a size kink & noncon?

Powerless

Contents: Yandere!Illumi x gn!reader smut scenario.

more Illumi content here

WARNINGS: YANDERE, ARRANGED MARRIAGE IMPLIED, NSFW, DUB/NON-CON, SIZE KINK, BREEDING KINK, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, MINORS DNI, AFAB!BODIED READER OTHERWISE GENDER NEAUTRAL.

"Who cares about what you want?" His words are as cold as ever, devoid of emotion. You're half naked, barely able to cover yourself with the bed-sheets, he's shirtless, jet black hair falling over his shoulders.

"You should care." You answer meekly, gasping when he effortlessly tugs away the sheets from your body. "We're married. My desires should matter to you." He tilts his head to the side slightly, and you wonder if this is just another case of miscommunication. His voice is always so even, you've had a hard time distinguishing when he's joking to when he's serious because of this. "I-It really isn't funny, Illumi."

"I'm not trying to amuse you, ___." He's always so robotic, you feel your skin crawl.

"I understand. But- Still... I want to sleep now. I don't want to make love." You breathe in deeply, trying to calm down. "We'll have time for that later... when I'm ready."

When you open your eyes after those words, he's naked and on top of you. His eyes fixed on your face, his body caging yours. You try to move, but he has you trapped against the mattress. He's smiling, amused.

"Make love? When you're ready?" He lets out a chuckle, showing emotion for once. "Don't be absurd. Sex is for reproductive purposes, and from what I know about you..." His eyes travel downwards, to your naked stomach. "This is the best time to put my seed inside of you."

"Illumi!" You scream when he tears at your clothes, he shuts you up by pressing his palm against your mouth, shoving your face against the pillows. Your eyes fill with tears, he's able to manhandle you so easily. He's strong, far too strong. He twists you around to his liking, finding an angle where he's able to line the tip of his cock with the entrance of your cunt. He rubs it against your clit, at least helping you get a little slick.

He tries to push past the tight ring of muscle, barely able to get the tip inside.

"Huh?" He says, more to himself than to your teary eyed form. "Seems like you're too tight for penetration."

"I'm telling you!" You cry out, struggling against the hand that keeps you pinned down. You let out a choked scream when he pushes again, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration.

"It doesn't matter, He groans, his free hand squeezing at your hip, that will surely leave a bruise. "I'll make it fit." His hand travels down to your clip, rubbing it in circular motions that seem far too calculated, it doesn't matter how much you try to deny it, you're getting wetter by the second. "Who would've thought you would be so tiny to fit me? It's my fault too I suppose, I should've thought about it." He smiles again, the hand pinning you to the pillow relenting as he runs his fingers through your hair.

You're limp, sniffling as you stare at the wall. He's finally able to slip all the way inside, bottoming out with a satisfied groan.

"You're so warm inside..." He says, slowly pulling out until only the tip is inside, then slamming back inside you with as much strength as he can without harming you. "Maybe I'll end up liking it too much and making love to you for fun, not just for babies."

He grins, he's making fun of you. You can only moan, taking in the brutal way he thrusts inside of you.

"Wouldn't you like that, ___? Making love to me."

hope you enjoyed this!!

have a great day/night

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[rimzaaa]

Older Than You

Oneshot! (Request)

Pairing: DBF! Hwang Inho x Fem!Reader (y/n)

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your dad’s best friend for as long as you can remember. He tried to ignore it. Avoided your glances, dodged your teasing smiles. Always kept it respectful. But over the years, the air changed. And tonight — when you're left alone with him — the line you cross is one he doesn't bother fixing.

Warnings: 18+ Age gap (DBF dynamic, reader is mid-20s, In-ho late 30s/40s). Sensual smut. Power imbalance. Reader flirts openly. Slow burn tension. Tell me if I missed any.

Author's Note: Another anon request and I'm so glad for all the requests you guys sent me. And this request, AAAA give me more like these! Inho as DBF, I'm definitely going to write more on this. Don't forget to reblog 🫶🏻

Words Count: 1234

Tag list: Let me know if you want to get tagged in LBH fics.

@salesmancarddd @marymun @astronomicalastro-blog1 @filthygalli @thehellhaveubeenloca @yosoylaprincesa2004 @watasinekoru @nightlark100 @drewstarkeysrightarm @doodle-with-rhy @lunaryoongie @ilovehwanginho @yxluana @sammie217 @sammat97 @alex-17s-world @mObi4girls @maah-sama @grylian @hecticspice @manager016 @mxriesss @christmascoles @nosebeers

You’d always loved pushing him.

Ever since you turned nineteen — when you finally noticed how your dad’s best friend never quite looked at you, not the way others did — you made it a mission to make him uncomfortable.

Nothing overt.

Just quiet glances. Biting your straw a little too long. Sitting too close at the dinner table. Slipping compliments into conversation that made him stiffen in his seat.

He’d always respond the same way — a long sigh, averted eyes, and a low murmur of “Don’t.”

But he never really stopped you, did he?

Even when you started calling him In-ho instead of “Mr Hwang”

Even when your skirts got shorter every time he visited.

Even when you leaned in one night, lips a breath away, and whispered, “Do you ever think about me?”

He’d stood so fast he knocked over his drink.

“I’m not doing this,” he had said. And he didn’t come over again for months.

You thought maybe you pushed too far.

But then he showed up tonight.

And now, it was just the two of you.

When you opened the door and saw him standing there — tall, coat draped over his frame, your stomach flipped.

You couldn’t help but stare — not just at the way he filled out that shirt, or the way his forearms flexed under the rolled-up sleeves — but at the hair framing his face.

Dark at the roots, but streaked with silver at the temples.

Salt and pepper. Just like those film villains who made sin look like seduction.

He looked older.

Sharper.

Better.

And damn if it didn’t make you want him more.

“Your dad said we’d have drinks. Didn’t know I’d be greeted by trouble,” he said, voice low and dry.

“Hi to you too, handsome.”

You stepped aside. He hesitated, then walked in. Same scent — clean, dark cologne, like cedarwood and cold steel. You wanted to wrap yourself in it.

“He’s not home yet,” you said. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

“Of course I am,” he muttered, but not unkindly.

You left the room briefly and returned with a glass of whiskey — his favorite. When you handed it to him, he paused.

“You remembered.”

You smiled. “I remember everything about you.”

That earned you a sharp look. The kind that said don’t start this.

But it was too late.

You sat opposite him on the couch, legs folded, body turned just slightly — just enough to let the silence stretch.

And then you said it.

“Your watch looks good.”

He glanced at it. Silver. A little scuffed.

“It’s older than you, darling.”

The word hit your bloodstream like fire. Your breath caught.

And this time, he didn’t take it back.

You leaned forward, resting your elbow on your knee.

“I like older things.”

“Do you?” His tone was unreadable.

“I’ve liked you for years.”

He didn’t speak. His jaw worked slowly, eyes tracing the curve of your neck, then back up. He drank. Finished it in one shot.

And when you stood — slowly — he didn’t stop you.

You crossed the room and stood in front of him.

“Say something.”

He looked up at you. Tired. Hungry. Controlled.

“You’re playing with fire.”

You knelt on the couch beside him, hand resting on his thigh.

“Maybe I want to burn.”

That broke him.

He reached up, fingers sliding into your hair, pulling you down to kiss him — and it was everything you dreamed it would be.

No hesitation now. No guilt. Just heat.

Your lips moved together with years of tension behind them. His hands found your waist, your hips, your thighs — firm, deliberate, like he had thought about this. Maybe more than you had.

When he broke the kiss, his forehead pressed against yours.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been trying not to do this.”

You smiled, breathless. “Then don’t stop.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, hands sliding under the hem of your top — palms flat against your back. You gasped into his mouth as he pulled you closer, until you were straddling his lap, his fingers gripping your hips like he needed to memorize them.

You tugged at the collar of his shirt, buttons coming undone one by one. He let you, eyes half-lidded, watching you with quiet fire.

When your lips met his neck — when you whispered “I’ve wanted this since the moment I saw you in that suit” — he exhaled a laugh, dark and shaky.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

“Then show me.”

And he did.

Gently, he eased you down onto the couch, hovering above you with a gaze that was nothing short of reverent. His hands were warm, slow, skilled — dragging over your skin like he had all night to learn the shape of you.

And when he kissed you again, it was slower this time. Less about control — more about worship.

Clothes fell away in whispers.

Fingers tangled in hair.

But the watch never came off.

He didn’t rush. Didn’t fumble.

He touched you like he knew what you needed.

His hands roamed your body with slow intent — knuckles brushing your ribs, thumbs sweeping over soft skin, palms skimming down your waist as if he were learning you note by note. Memorizing you.

When he pressed his hips down against yours, you gasped — and he smiled against your neck, low and dark.

“Feel that?” he murmured.

You whimpered.

“That’s what you do to me. Every damn time you walk into a room.”

His lips traced your throat. “Wearing those shorts. Calling me by my name. Looking at me like you’ve already undressed me in your head.”

He pulled back to look at you — eyes hooded, breathing heavy.

“Tell me you want it.”

“I do,” you whispered, arching into him. “I want all of you.”

“Good girl,” he growled softly. “Then take it.”

He kissed you again — hungrier now, lips parting yours, tongue sweeping past as his hand slipped beneath your underwear, fingers dipping down, teasing you open with slow, devastating precision.

Your back arched, and he watched you, completely transfixed.

“You’re already soaking,” he muttered against your jaw. “And I haven’t even taken you apart yet.”

Your head fell back, breath stuttering.

He leaned down, mouth brushing your ear.

“Let me ruin you.”

Your fingers gripped his shoulders, your chest pressed to his as you whispered, “Please…”

His voice was low and hot against your ear.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’ve always been yours” you breathed.

That was all he needed.

With every deep roll of his hips, every whispered command —

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Say my name again.”

“You’re mine now.”

—you fell apart for him piece by piece, dissolving under his body like melted silk.

There was nothing crude about it. Only raw, breathless worship.

He held you like you were breakable.

Took you like he’d waited years to.

And kissed you like he’d never forgive himself for stopping.

And when it finally broke — when the pleasure crested so high you could barely breathe — he buried his face in your neck, murmuring your name like a vow.

---

Later, your body curled against his, slick with sweat and flushed from the aftershocks, you whispered

“You didn’t hold back.”

He chuckled — low and dangerous. “You begged for it.”

“I’d do it again.”

“You will,” he said simply, brushing a kiss to your shoulder. “Next time in my bed”

Part 2

[heizlut]

corrupted creampie with Cyno mmgh-

when will it be my turn😩 i love cyno, i can do so much for this so here goes:

Best Friends

cw: manipulation, corruption, creampie, dubcon, kinda dark

tags: sub fem! reader, scummy dom!cyno, mostly proofread

nsfw under the cut

m!list here

⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹

You had always been such a studious girl, having graduated at the top of your darshan in the Akademiya. You naturally became close with Cyno during your time spent there as he loved the way you stuck to the rules, unafraid of making reports to the Matra when you took note of people who broke them. You were so proud of him when he told you he was taking over as General Mahamatra, giving him endless praises and support.

Cyno wasn't one to show much emotion, keeping his expressions neutral and his voice monotone. But when it came to you, something inside him stirred to life. Something that shouldn't be there that twisted his thoughts and brought heat to his loins. Cyno wanted to ruin you.

A knock sounds on Cyno's door and his sharp gaze shoots to the source. His tense body relaxes when he hears the sound of your voice coming from the other side, "Cyno! Hurry and let me in, I'm soaked!" His lips twitch at the thought of you being soaked, wishing you were saying such a thing in sexual desperation for him rather than literally being drenched by the pouring rain outside. "Coming", his usual tone of voice as he pads over to the front door. He opens the door to see you completely wet from the rain and moves to the side, letting you in.

You shiver as you step in and smile gratefully at him, giving your thanks. Cyno hums in acknowledgement, not trusting his own voice at the moment as his cock comes to life in his pants. Thank the archons for that slip of purple cloth that hid his bulge in his shorts... Your sweet laugh breaks his thoughts and he looks to you as you smile at him, "Sorry for making your floors wet. I didn't realize it was going to rain or else I would've asked to see you another time." Fuck, you were too innocent. The fabric of your clothes clung to your body, emphasizing each curve, the roundness of your breasts, and the curve of your ass.

You tilt your head slightly with mild concern, "Cyno? Are you okay?" Cyno blinks and tries so very hard not to let his eyes wander, "Mhm. How about you take a hot bath and I'll let you borrow something of mine to wear?" You smile, but shake your head, "You can just give me a towel. I don't want to impose or cross a line with you." Cyno frowns a little. You always stuck to rules, never one to even toe the line. He used to love that about you and he absolutely should still love that about you considering his position in Sumeru, but now... Now he wanted to send you careening over that line.

"I don't want you to get sick. I'll start the bath and leave out some clothes for you to wear when you're done", he says cooly, trying to remain indifferent as always. You begin to protest, but one pointed look with his scarlet eyes made you snap your mouth shut. A hint of a smile plays on Cyno's lips at your compliance and he leaves the room to fill the bath with hot water for you. You follow him almost like a lost puppy, dripping water falling from your body to the floors. Cyno digs through his clothes and pulls out a simple white t-shirt and looks to you with an unreadable expression, "This is the only thing that might fit you. I would give you pants, but they would be too big." He holds the shirt up to your shivering body, "The shirt looks like it'll be big enough to keep you covered."

Your cheeks flush the prettiest shade of red at the idea of only wearing your best friend's shirt and nothing else. The blush of your cheeks doesn't go unnoticed by Cyno who feels immense satisfaction. He folds up the shirt and hands it to you, his hands grazing yours as he does so, "The bath should be ready now." You look at him with such a cute expression that makes that sick feeling in him grow. Cyno shouldn't want to corrupt you, but he so desperately wanted to see you writhe underneath him. What expressions would you make then...?

You clear your throat awkwardly to bring Cyno back from his thoughts. He startles slightly and immediately lets go of your hands that held his shirt, "Sorry...", he mutters. You just give a small smile, feeling more concerned about why he was spacing out so much today. You knew your best friend would tell you if he felt inclined to, so you didn't push. You turn and head into the bathroom, shutting the door. You peel your wet clothes from your body, leaving them in a little pile on the floor as you step into the steaming bath.

Cyno paces in his room trying to will away his boner, trying to keep his dark and lustful thoughts at bay. HIs head snaps up when he hears the bathroom door open. You peek your head out from behind the door and look at him, flushed with embarrassment, "I...I'm coming out now." You were so fucking cute and his cock throbs for you under his clothes when you step out timidly, pulling at the hem of his shirt that fell right below the curve of your ass. Cyno fights the groan that is clawing at his throat.

You can't even look at him when you make your way to him, too embarrassed about the whole situation and the shirt that truly didn't leave much to the imagination. This was so inappropriate in your mind and you fumble over your words, "S-sorry again for inconveniencing you and getting your.. floors all wet...and-" You're cut off when Cyno reached forward and twisted a lock of your wet hair around his finger. Your eyes meet his and he speaks gruffly, "Don't apologize." He lets the strand of your hair fall back into place, "Should we continue with our original plans?"

You just gawk at him for a moment, trying to process your thoughts and feelings, "Hmm? O-oh, yeah, let's do that." You lead the way back to the main room of him home and seat yourself on the plush green chair, pulling at the hem of the shirt once more. Cyno sits across from you, almost studying you as you fidgeted. He lets out a sigh, "Let's have a drink. You clearly need one." You laugh a little, "It seems that way doesn't it..."

Cyno moves to the cabinets, taking out a bottle of snake wine he had been saving and pours it into two glasses. He hands you one, to which you thank him politely and he moves back to his seat. You take a tentative sip, your eyes widening at the taste. A ghost of a smirk on Cyno's lips as he watches you take a longer drink. By the time you'd finished your glass, the strong wine was messing with your senses and it felt...good. You felt more relaxed despite the fact that you were sitting across from your best friend wearing his shirt that hardly covered you. The same best friend who protected you always, but now wanted to feel your tight walls strangle his cock.

You fake a pout at Cyno, "I need more, 's empty..." You tilt and shake your glass to display just how empty it was. He chuckles softly at your cute mannerisms and hold his untouched glass of snake wine out towards you, "Here, have mine and I'll refill the empty glass." Your eyes light up like you were a child in a candy store, reaching out to take the full glass from him as you speak in a sing-song tone, "My best friend, always taking care of me~" Cyno's eyes hold a glint of something dark and lustful as you take the glass and sip from it; looking especially cute and naive.

His scarlet eyes linger on your body then make their way back to your eyes, "Come sit with me. You're far away." His voice was monotone and collected as usual as he speaks to you. You tilt your head so cutely at his words, "But there's no room in your chair?" Cyno felt so fucking dangerous, wanting to split you apart on his cock right here, right now. But he didn't want to scare you. He wanted this to work. He pats his thigh, "Come here. There's room." Your lips form a little smile as your eyebrows raise, "Is that okay with you?" He gives you an incredulous look, "I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't okay with it. Now come here."

You chew at your lip as you rise from you seat, glass of wine in hand, and you make your way to him. A groan nearly slips from him when you settle into his lap. Cyno snakes an arm around your waist, keeping you close to him, doing his best not to rut up into you. You wiggle against his bulge as you make yourself more comfortable and you suck in a breath, eyes wide as you look up at him, "There's something..." Cyno shushes you, "Don't pay me any mind. I'm fine." Oh, he was so far from fine right now... Your bare pussy was pressed against his hardened cock and you were too dumb to realize what you were doing to him.

He does his best to control himself as you sip your wine and chatter on about your day. You eye flit to his hand that was now slowly making its way up you thigh and closer to the hem of your shirt, "Cyno?" He shushes you again as his fingers trace little shapes against you skin, steadily moving under you shirt now. Your cheeks heat up again, unable to tear your eyes away from the outline of his hand making its way up to your breasts. You let out a little squeal when Cyno squeezes one of your breasts, "What're you doing?!"

Cyno takes a deep breath as his hips begin to rock underneath you, his hand massaging your breast and toying with your nipple, "Shh, let your best friend decompress, yeah?" "F-friends don't do this...", you say softly as your breathing begins to pick up and your arousal starts to make a mess on his pants. Cyno pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers, "Friends might not. But best friends do..." Your mouth forms a little "O" as your drunken mind decides that what he's saying must be true. He was always brutally honest, so why would he lie now...right?

He moves his hand back out and takes your glass from you, setting it on the table in front of the two of you. Cyno's hot breath fans against your ear as he speaks, "Arms up." Your hesitantly raise your arms and Cyno drags the shirt over your head and tosses it to the floor, leaving you completely naked in his lap. You felt so exposed, but your thoughts melt away when he brings you closer, pressing little kisses against your shoulder and neck as your naked back meets his bare, tanned chest.

As he continues leaving kisses along your skin, Cyno's hands spread your thighs apart, "Always such a good girl following all the rules... Never bending or breaking them..." He trails off for moment as his teeth sink into your skin, making you gasp. He licks at the mark and chuckles, "You'll follow all my rules, won't you?" You turn your head a little to look at him nervously, "Your rules?" Cyno gives a slight smirk, "Mhm. You wouldn't dare break the rules that come from the General Mahamatra himself, right?"

You take too long to answer and slaps your sticky cunt, "Answer me." Your breathless as you nod, your voice coming out shaky from both nerves and arousal, "I-I wouldn't break them... That would be... wrong." Cyno practically purrs at your answer. You were too naive and too much of a good girl to ever dare to break a rule and he would use this to his advantage exponentially. He brings two fingers to your lips, "Open." Your lips part for him and he pushes the fingers inside. You instinctively begin to suck on them, wetting them with your saliva.

Cyno hums in satisfaction and pulls them out, watching as they glisten in the light, "Let me play with you." Before you can ask what he means, his wet fingers push into your tight pussy, making you moan as your head falls back against his shoulder. He slowly pumps his fingers in and out, then scissors them to stretch you out. The slick sound coming from between your legs made you dizzy and he presses upwards to your g-spot. A pretty whine falls from your lips as your eyes flutter shut. Cyno removes his fingers from inside of you to play with you little clit, circling it with the pads of his sticky, wet digits, "Your pussy is so good for me. Have to get it nice and ready for my cock..."

You whine pathetically when he stops and holds the same two fingers to your lips again, "Clean them. Want you to taste how sweet you are." You take his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his fingers as the taste of your own arousal fills your senses. Cyno takes them out and begins to pull his leaking fat cock from out of his pants. You're in a daze when he pats your ass and gives you another command, "Turn around and face me." Without a second thought, you turn so that you straddle him. His cock throbbing in anticipation against his abdomen. Cyno takes your hand and places it on his length, "This is what you do to me. Take responsibility."

Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words as you wrap your hand around his lightly tanned cock and pump it languidly, mesmerized by the way the pre cum leaks from his flushed tip, "Do best friends do this too?" You asked to shyly that it makes him twitch in your hand, "Yes, and they do so much more." You lock eyes for a moment, the heat of his gaze is so intense and you can't help but want more. Wanting to make Cyno happy and not wanting to go against his commands.

Cyno grips your hips, "Lift up and put my cock in." You obey, of course, lifting yourself up just enough to position yourself over his length. He raises an eyebrow when you hesitate, hovering over him. The look alone made you feel like you were guilty of doing something wrong so you immediately sink down onto him. Cyno's head falls back against the cushion of his chair as your tight, wet walls engulf his cock. "'S too big, Cyno", you whine as your face twists in pleasure. "You can take it", he growls as he thrusts up into you, making you cry out.

The grip he has on your hips tightens as he fucks up into you cute little cunt. His balls slap against your ass as he hits the deepest parts inside of you. Slapping skin, slick squelching, and grunts and moans fill the space as he fills you, "Look at you taking your best friends cock so well. Gonna let me fuck you all the time, right? Wouldn't want to disappoint me or break a rule, right? You're too good for that." "Uh-huh... I'll always be good! Don't wanna get in troubleeee", you cry as he pistons his cock in your cunt.

Cyno lands a smack on your ass and you clench hard around him, creaming on his cock. He growls at the sight of your white cream making a sticky mess at the base of his cock and dripping between his thighs. It's enough for him to be catapulted to his own end as a deep moan comes from his throat, "Take it. Be a good girl and take it all." His cock throbs wildly as his thick ropes of cum fill your sweet pussy. You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his neck as his forehead rests against your shoulder.

His cock twitches a few more times before it finally settles. You both are breathless and sweaty, neither of you wanting to move from your position. You look into Cyno's scarlet eyes, face flushed from everything that happened. Cyno looks at you lips then back to your gaze, "Can I kiss you?" You blink in confusion. He had just fucked you and he was asking if he could kiss you? "Do best friends do that?", was your cute reply, genuinely wanting to know so you didn’t break any rules. He chuckles at your naivety, "Yeah, best friends do that too."

⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹

a/n: somethin about scummy cyno really does it for me…

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

Inspired by this song˙˚ʚ(´◡`)ɞ˚˙ tw: angst<3 tagging: @shintaru dividers aren't mine! I don't remember whose these dividers are(´Ａ｀。

Hajun:

You sat quietly on his apartment floor, the surface cold and hard against your skin. The absence of his little brothers and the joy that they always brought in the house was heavy, only defeating silence filled the dark room like a smoke curling in the air, heavy and choking. Lights were off, the only thing that saved the room from completely succumbing to darkness were windows and bright sun outside. And here you were, sitting on the floor in front of your boyfriend, bandaging his bruised fingers.

His eyes glued on your hands, observing how gently you treated his bruises. And yet, he looked like he was far deep in his thoughts, in his own world, completely detached from reality right now. He knew it was just another day for you, another day of taking care of him after his fights even when he told you that he could do it himself, and he hates it. He hates how it's becoming norm for you, how it's becoming daily task for you. You used to scold him for getting into so many fights, and he really tried to listen, but now you've come to accept it - that you couldn't keep him away from the danger that he, himself, was jumping into. So, you shut up about it too.

There was time when Hajun used to admire MMA fighters as a kid and had passion in boxing but now all those innocent times have passed. He doesn't even know why his heart keeps his old fixations when he already lost the spark for it. The moment it became his only weapon to survive, the moment it became something that got him involved in underground gambling and the moment he had to surrender himself to rich people and get locked up in cage - one he couldn't return from - his heart grew numb to something he had passion for.

That's when his world became grey, that's when he grew numb to most things in his life, that's when his lifestyle got dirty and his life messed up. But then there were you. You, who brought some colours back in his life. You, who made him feel something. You, who he felt more like human with, instead of a hound dog abandoned in the ring. But even so, he has already gone too far in something he couldn't come back from. And he could see that it also affected you.

"Done." You spoke out of nowhere, snapping him back to reality. When his eyes meet yours, you could tell that something was bothering him. His gaze looked so...lost. But he was looking at you.

"Thank you." He said, his voice rough from staying quiet for so long so he cleared his throat.

You observed him for a second before speaking again. "You don't have to feel guilty." Hearing that, he looked at you again with slightly wider eyes, caught off guard. "You said they attacked you first. Of course you'd have to protect yourself." You gave him dismissive shrug as an attempt to show that you don't blame him for getting into a fight.

"Yeah, I know..." Hajun answered, almost whispering. He looked like he had so much to say but didn't know how to, didn't have right words for it but still, you patiently waited for him to make up his mind. "But...I'm sorry." He finally added, his fingers tightened together in a firm fist.

"You don't have to apologi-"

"I do. I'm sorry that I've been worrying you all this time. And I shouldn't have accepted his request again, knowing what he'd want from me and rest of Sabbath..." He murmured loud enough for you to hear, but he sounded so tired that he could barely control his tone.

With a sigh, you reached to cup his cheeks with your hands. "You didn't have bad intentions though. And don't apologize to me. If you have anyone to apologize for the most - it's you." You explained while eyeing his bruises and wounds he got from his fight and that shut him up quickly.

You do understand that it's his job, that he's doing this for his brothers, that he gets into few street fights which isn't rare in Korea, but you dislike it. And what you dislike more than his violent environment is how he treats himself, how he doesn't care what happens to him as long as his brothers will be fine and well fed. It breaks your heart to see him acting like a vessel for his family.

Hajun remained quiet, he didn't have anything else to say. What you didn't expect him though, was him wrapping his arm around you and bringing close to his embrace. His silence only adding to the heavy situation. Then he rested his second hand on your waist and his chin on your shoulder. He didn't know what to say in that moment but he really, really wanted you to stay.

Vinny:

Today was the day half of Korea dreamed of, people were busy cheering for the winner of League of Streets, Jay Jo. But he wasn't the one you were looking at, looking for. Instead, it was the boy next to him with ruby red hair, his face down in shame, his hands trembling.

Vinny....

It's beyond the imagination of crowd how useless he feels right now. He sacrificed everything, he worked hard, yet why...why?! Why is it that he could never have the win? Why is that he's just never enough? Honestly, even you didn't know how to cheer him up anymore.

But still, you waited outside for him while he was getting tested for doping, putting your jacket back on due to cold weather that doesn't seem to be changing. While you were waiting, your thoughts were on Vinny. What were you supposed to say to him? What could you possibly do or say to cheer him up right now? Would he even accept it? Or would he push you away?

While these thoughts kept haunting you, Vinny came out of the staff room with gloomy face. Your attention immediately shifted to him and your heart ached at the sight of him. He looked so devastated but as always, trying to mask it up.

"Vinny!" You called out his name to grab his attention. He raised his head at the sound of your voice, turning around to face you with surprised expression. But his face turned gloomy again in matter of seconds.

You walked towards him, getting closer and closer with each step while nervously thinking about what to say. You'd congratulate him but what should you congratulate him for? If you ask him how he's doing though, that would make him feel even more pathetic, considering Vinny doesn't like getting pitied. Then maybe you should tell him that he tried his best, but even tha-

"What?" His voice snapped you back to reality, realising you're already standing close to him - too close. His heterochromic eyes rest on your face.

"I...Um...You were amazing out there." Your voice came out hesitant and you immediately cursed yourself for that. C'mon, you were supposed to say it confidently!!

Silence.

Neither of you said anything after that. The only thing you heard was the sound of his breathing and your heart that was going to burst out of your chest any time soon.

"Are you kidding me?" He snapped. Vinny's voice wasn't loud, he wasn't yelling - no. But his tone was sharper than any blade, enough to catch you by surprise.

"No? I'm not kidding. I think you were amaz-"

"What about me is amazing?" He asks, this time without any bite in his voice nor sarcasm. "No matter how hard I trained, I still couldn't win this competition. How is that amazing?" His eyes narrowed at you but not in distrust, but in desperation he tried so hard to hide.

"Vinny, no matter what you say, you were amazing today. And I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks so--"

"Shut it."

"I'm proud of you-"

"I said stop."

His sharp voice kept cutting you off, leaving you no other choice than shutting up. With a soft sigh, you gave up. His eyes were now glued on the ground, lost in whatever he was thinking. After that, he turned around to walk away but your voice stopped him.

"I didn't say it out of pity. I truly am proud of you, Vinny."

Wooin:

The sound of water running filled the quiet bathroom, the unpleasant smell reached Wooin's nose, so he held his breath. He washed blood off of his hands, his knuckles were bruised, his lip cut open, blood making his lips sticky. He tried to clean himself up as fast as he could since his dad's guard was waiting for him. His dad...He would be so mad...

The sound of door opening caught his attention. Wooin thought it was probably his bodyguard checking if he was done, so he didn't look up, he didn't even want to see him. But then-

"Wooin?"

The familiar voice of female, that familiar voice he grew to love, reached his ears and he didn't hesitate to turn around, despite being surprised. "[Reader]? What are you doing here...in boys' bathroom?"

You stared at his cut lip, bruised knuckles, blood on his clothes, messy hair and exhausted eyes, like he just wanted to give up. Your heart ached at the sight of him. It's so unusual to see him looking so vulnerable. "I...heard that you got into fight so I was worried." You answered, hesitantly reaching out to touch his shoulder.

Wooin, however, didn't let you do that due to his shoulder already aching and shifted away instead. "I'm surprised my guard let you in."

"Oh I forced him and threatening that I would snitch on him about his relationship with our history teacher." You said in light-hearted tone to ease the tension and thankfully, his lips twitched into ghost smile, but it faded away too quickly.

"Anyway.... Do you need help in cleaning up?" You gently offered.

"Hm, maybe if I was four and still taking bubble baths." He sarcastically says and turns around to wash his knuckles again.

"Okey... Why did you get into fight though? You could get in trouble."

"I already am in trouble." He corrected. "Surprising, isn't it?" His tone drips in sarcasm again, habit he accidentally picked on since he was young.

"Answer my question." Now you demanded after noticing that he tried to avoid it. "Did they say something to you?"

Wooin sighs and mutters something under his nose but you couldn't catch it. Then he puts his hands in hand dryer, the machine immediately activates. "Just something stupid." He states dismissively.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you questioned him further. "You wouldn't act like this over something stupid."

You watched him take his hands out of the dryer, checking if his hands were still somehow wet - they weren't. "Does it matter? I've set an example of why they shouldn't get cocky with me. Doubt they'll do it again unless they want free tickets to hospital."

"Fear isn't solution, Wooin..." You spoke again, now concerned to how he started thinking. Like him. "Well-" you tried to change topic to don't sound accusing but he cut you off.

"If they refuse to show respect, making them scared will force them to."He says, not looking at you.

At that, your heart broke. He has changed so much after that accident, it's like he's completely different person. You know that he was defending himself, it's not like him to throw fists out of nowhere without being provoked to do so. But... "Is that whar your father taught you?" Before you could stop yourself, the question rolled off of your tongue on its own.

At that, he froze. Not visibly, but he still did. His eyes slowly moved up to your face and he opened his mouth to say something but the sudden knock on the room made you both go still.

"Sir, are you done? We should hurry." Wooin's so-called bodyguard - that was literally taking him to man he needed to be protected from - interrupted, calling for Wooin with urgency.

"Yeah, coming." Wooin answered, stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking away from you. Leaving you with thousands of thoughts and heavy heart but maybe you also left him with one.

[leonsgfpost]

note: Hi! this is my third official post, crazy stuff. Thanks so much for all the support, I didn't think my trash was any good 😭 Btw, I hope you enjoy this too. English isn't my first language, so sorry if there's a mistake. 💕

tags: smut, comfort, insecurities, Leon is so cute, Leon x fem! reader, doggy style, orgasms and more!

Leon loves you madly. He really does. So every time you ask that question, "Do you love me?" he answers honestly, just because he can't tear his heart out and give it to you.

This man is capable of lowering the moon if you ask him to, he would do anything for you. He is honest, he doesn't lie. He wakes you up with soft kisses, on his days off he hugs you as if you were the only thing that keeps him grounded. You are everything to him.

And it's not that you doubt him, but different situations in your past led you to be insecure, to a sour whirlpool forming inside you about it. About him. Even now, when he's balls-deep inside you.

"Leon, Leon-" You murmured between ragged gasps, feeling his chest pressing hard against your back holding you in place. Taking every thrust he gave you. "Do you love me-?" And that feeling inside you came again. You felt like crying. Maybe from the pleasure, or maybe from the overwhelming sensations.

For a moment you think he doesn't hear you because of his current state. Heavy breathing, eyes tightly closed, body sweaty and his mind blank every time he sinks down to touch that spongy spot inside you.

But he wouldn't miss a hair of yours.

"I love you, I do, dear.... More than anything." He affirmed again, because he would repeat it to you every time you want. And the question sounds unreal in his fucked up head, of course he loves you. You're the only person he can open up to, show that young man who died inside him in 1998. He even took the audacity to have hopes, dreams again. Because next to you nothing seemed impossible.

"I love you, I love you." He murmured in your ear along with the low moans he couldn't contain, not when your walls were sucking him in so good. And I'd be lying if I said not now he's the one who wants to cry. He'd kiss every part of your body, kiss you all over until he could make you forget everything. Just like he does when he's with you.

His hips try to keep his deep rhythm, while his arms search for a way to embrace you to keep him grounded. Your ass is smacked by his pelvis every time he plunges in, over and over again with ambition. The wet sound of your wet pussy is the complete opposite of the cute words coming from Leon's lips.

"You're the only one for me, you're everything to me...Oh, G-God-" Now he started to ramble, trying to get his whole cock inside you until he can fuck your brains out and make you forget.

"Fuck, I love you, baby-!" His voice was already shaking, but I didn't know if it was from the effort of pushing you or the effort not to cry over you like a fucking baby.

"C-Come on, say you love me too." His voice tried to sound demanding, but it sounded like a plea. A desperate plea to know that you loved him too, because he wanted to be loved. He needed it.

"I love you, Leon. I-I love you, I love you so much." You said obediently, your voice coming out choked from having your face buried in the sheets. Your hair was disheveled, little beads of sweat trickling down your back and trembling thighs trying to support your weight. And little tears began to fill the corners of your eyes.

Maybe he had already fucked your brains out.

And Leon's chest tightened, pushing his lips carelessly into your hot cheeks. He was always so sweet even when he was fucking you like you were a slut. His cock bullying your bruised pussy again and again, because he couldn't catch a break. You were the air he needed to feel alive.

You made him feel alive.

As alive as he was now, as his hips began to quiver and his thrusts became sloppy, feeling his cock contracting tightly inside your walls. He could lose his mind right now for you.

His fingers moved down to play with your painfully throbbing clit, you let out a high pitched moan and your walls tightened feeling the familiar euphoria explode inside you, your orgasm coming in a sloppy way. Your body immediately relaxed into the sheets, trying to recover, but Leon wouldn't slow down, not when he was so close too.

He released your clit to run a sticky hand up to one of your tits, kneading it as if it were his own anti-stress toy. He carelessly kissed your wet cheeks and his hips pushed all the way in, releasing all his seed inside you. His cock contracted and discounted with spasms, giving you all of him.

"I love you." He whispered weakly, hugging you and trying not to fall on top of you. His heart beating fast in his chest, beating for you.

Because Leon Scott Kennedy loves you more than anyone. And he would devote every day of the rest of his life to prove it to you, if you let him.

were there too many "I love you"s? haha, sorry! But I can't help but think that Leon really needs a lot of love.

Let me know if u liked this, thanks!! 🎀💗

bye, bye (💌)

[zepskies]

Hi, how are you?

I was wondering if you could write something like "Dean reads you wrong" but with Sam Please

Hey, lovely!

I'm doing well, thank you. 💜 I hope you are too! Hmm, I'm still working through my current bank of requests, but since "Dean reads you wrong" is so fresh, it got me thinking about how Sam would go about this...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: It's hard for Sam to admit he wants you...when he thinks you might want his brother.

Song Inspo: "If You're Gone" by Matchbox Twenty

Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Sam reads you wrong.

When Sam falls for someone, he's...well, what he would call self-aware.

But also cautious.

He knows his own track record with women. He knows the life he leads, and has resigned himself to giving up most kinds of normalcy or domesticity.

And maybe, a part deep in the back of his brain has given up on the idea of love.

That's why it's so damn confounding...how you've managed to take him by surprise.

He's always been able to rely on you. Whether it's sharing the brunt of the research with him when Dean loses focus, or staying up with Sam on late nights, sharing mugs of tea and quiet conversation, bonding over familiar tastes in books, and '90s grunge music, of all things.

You also confessed to him, late one night, that you have a growing collection of mugs, fuzzy socks, and vinyl records, despite the fact that your record player has collected more dust than the bunker's old storage room.

You're wonderfully weird.

And you're unfailingly loyal to who you consider "your people." And Sam thinks (knows) he's fortunate enough to be included in that small circle.

Sam also knows, deep in his gut, no matter how much he tries to "rationalize" it away, that you're special. And special to him.

You've managed to do more than just slip under his skin. When he thinks too hard on it, he can admit it (just to himself). You've infiltrated all four corners of his heart so deeply, he doesn't have a prayer of scooping you out.

Some days, it's all he can do not to reach out while you're chatting away, filling the silence.

He can picture it like a scene in his mind: of interrupting your mouth with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to his and showing you, with or without words, that he wants you...

And yet.

He can't help but watch how you are with Dean.

You two tease each other, bicker and gripe over coffee grinds left in the coffee pot and who ate the last of the leftovers. You fight with Dean over the remote on movie night (once, damn near smothering him with a pillow).

But you also dote on him, making sure Dean has one of his favorite desserts every time you go out to buy groceries. You swap his beer out for water when he's not looking. (And though Dean frowns and grumbles, he doesn't argue with your raised brow and imploring look.)

It's not quite flirting, but it's not quite platonic either—at least in Sam's eyes. You and Dean seem to have something.

And sometimes, your playful banter with his brother makes Sam sick to his stomach.

Like today, when Sam’s sitting at the kitchen table reading while you're making a cup of tea. The silence between you two is amiable, like usual.

Sam steals a glance at you and has to smile.

"Going with purple polka dots today?" he asks.

You look over with knitted brows of confusion, until you follow his gaze. You laugh sheepishly and wiggle your toes through your fuzzy socks.

"The floor is cold as hell," you defend yourself.

Sam's smile deepens a fraction as he turns back to his book.

"They're cute," he adds.

You turn your face to hide your blush. The mild thunder of heavy boots announces Dean's presence as he pops into the kitchen.

"Oh good, you're cooking. What's for dinner?" he asks. You turn to give him a familiar narrowed look.

"Who says I'm cooking?" you counter.

"Well, you're doing something on the stove..." Dean peers over and catches a whiff of the concoction you're brewing. He grimaces. "Second thought, I'm good. That smells like ass, whatever it is."

You roll your eyes at him. "It's just green tea, Dean. You know, health?"

He levels a deadpan expression at you as he opens up the pantry.

"I see your 'health' and I raise you...Doritos," he says. He digs his hand into the bag he's just pilfered and crunches a mouthful in your face. You can't help but splutter a laugh and push Dean away.

"You're ridiculous. If you catch a heart attack at 50, don't come crying to me."

"Hey, at least I'll die happy."

"Oh, right. A silver lining there. I'd hate to see what your arteries look like," you tease.

"Has anyone told you that you're unsavory?" Dean asks, continuing to crunch with an open mouth.

You smirk. "Is that your way of calling me sweet?"

He snorts. "Sure, sweetheart. We'll call it that."

"You know, I'm not your sweetheart," you point out.

Dean discreetly glances his brother's way with a sly glint in his eyes. Sam doesn't see it; by now he's trying his damndest to keep his eyes in his book and ignore the way his stomach is clenching, chest tightening.

Dean shifts his attention back at you and reaches down to brush your chin with his thumb.

"Not yet, but you could be," he says, in a flirtatious edge that he's never quite taken with you.

You're wide-eyed for a moment. In the end, though, you choose to take it as teasing. You push his hand away and give him an annoyed look.

"God, you're such a clown. Order a pizza if you're that hungry," you rejoin, and you pour two mugs of freshly brewed tea. "I won't even bother offering you one."

"Nope," Dean says, popping the "p." He walks out of the kitchen, giving Sam a firm slap on the back. Sam coughs and shoots his brother a frown.

Dean has the gall to wink at him before he walks out. Like he's having his own little private joke.

Well, Sam isn't laughing. He stares down hard at his book. He tries to ignore everything he just heard and saw out of the corner of his eye.

It becomes too much. He takes up his book and heads out of the kitchen.

He just doesn't see the way you frown as he walks away. There you stand, left holding two mugs of tea for you and him.

Sam returns to his room for a while. He's not hiding. He's...reading.

There's a knock at his door, and if it's Dean, he swears he's going to open his mouth and tell his brother to leave him the hell alone, like he's some kind of moody teen.

But it's you.

"Hey," you greet, after the door creaks open. Sam softens.

"Hey," he says, clearing his throat. "What's up?"

"You," you reply. You bring him his hot mug of tea and set it down on the desk where he sits.

"Thanks," he says.

You nod and place your mug beside his (Lord of the Rings themed, of course), and cross your arms as you lean against his desk.

Sam turns toward you in his chair. His hands rest on his thighs. His gaze travels back up to your face as he tries to keep his neutral, but welcoming to whatever you want to ask him. (He buries his heart deep, as he instinctively does whenever you're near him.)

"You okay?" you ask. Your brows furrow the longer you gaze down at him. Just staring, like you know he's hiding something. Like you can see straight into him, into the shadows where he keeps most of his thoughts of you.

This is perhaps the only area of his life where he's a coward.

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam replies, in a tone that suggests, Why wouldn't I be?

You quirk a smile. "Why don't I believe you?"

Sam swallows. For once, he's not sure what to say to you.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you say softly. You take a subtle step into his orbit, almost between his open legs. Your demeanor says that you'd gladly listen, do whatever he asked of you. Because you're just that kind.

Sam's mouth twitches upward. "I know. I'm fine, really."

"You're fine, or you're Winchester fine?" you raise a brow.

Sam chuckles then, showing a flash of his smile. It lightens you.

"Maybe a bit of the second one," he admits.

You smile and inch closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah? Tell me," you say. Your voice is soft, but not quite a whisper.

It leads Sam to sigh. He grasps your hand where it lies on his shoulder. For a moment, he debates internally. He realizes then that Dean's antics earlier might've been more than just teasing. Maybe it was a subtle nudge—to stop wasting time.

Damn it, just do something, Sam thinks.

When you squeeze his hand back, it's just the small push he needs. He glances up at you.

Then he takes your hand and holds it between both of his, with care. He tugs you forward, surprising you as you step forward between his legs. Your mouth parts in soft surprise when he reaches a hand up to your cheek.

You still look surprised, blushing up to your ears, but you're not pulling away. In fact, your widened gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.

Sam smiles. He tugs you down to him and enacts a living daydream, finally kissing you with everything he has. Everything he’s had locked inside.

You respond to his mouth in kind; the subtle gasp of breath against his lips sharply cuts off as you sink into his kiss. Your trembling hand comes to his cheek, grazing the dull prickle of stubble. When your fingers dive into his hair next, it’s his turn to take a deep breath.

With each new kiss, he explores more of you. His hands find your waist, and he gathers you against his chest. You find purchase on his strong shoulders and give into the opportunity to straddle his hips, sitting in his lap while he continues to make your heartbeat wild in your chest.

Sam slows the kiss, only because his brain is starting to catch up with his heart. He wants to see your face, to make sure this is what you want.

He finds that and more when he looks up at you.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tenderly brushing his thumb against your cheek.

"Does that answer your question?" he asks, with a soft laugh. You join him and press your forehead against his.

"I don't know,” you tease. Your eyes are dancing, both with amusement and relief. Because your heart has wanted this for even longer than Sam's.

You lean back in to whisper close to his lips. “Maybe I need a little more clarity."

Sam takes you at your word.

AN: It's been a long time since I've written for Sam! 💜 I got in another request for him a while ago. I may dust that one off soon... Until then, let me know what you think of this!

(And don't worry. I didn't forget about the Soldier Boy imagine I promised. That will come out at the end of this week, most likely!)

Read Dean's version: "Dean reads you wrong."

Sam Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SW Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @tipthejar

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @siampie @violetlilysunshine @nic-kolas @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @malindacath @brujaporfavor @katherineann83 @torchbearerkyle

@sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @adoringanakin @sanscas @pap3rtigers @kaleldobrev @nix-rose

[twd-bee3]

Knife's Edge

Summary: After a tough run that resulted in the loss of a group member, you wake up to realize just how much Daryl has been carrying.

Warnings/Tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, suicidal ideation, references to self-harm (doesn't occur in the fic), depression, established relationship, female reader (she/her), season two, no use of y/n

Word count: 1.1k words

A/N: As someone who deals with mental health issues and has struggled with the themes of this piece, writing this meant a lot to me. It's heavily implied that Daryl is passively suicidal, and it can be seen in the earlier seasons of the show where he has little regard for his safety. I can't remember the exact episode or season, but there's a scene where he doesn't hesitate to stay in a locked car surrounded by walkers so that Aaron can get out. This can be interpreted as him being sacrificial, but I've always thought that it was him not caring whether or not he made it out. Anyway, there's a major trigger warning for self-harm and ideation in this fic. If you find yourself in a mental health crisis and you live in the US, call or text 988.

Feeling the absence of Daryl's warmth, you stirred from your slumber and rolled over. He wasn't in the bed, which wasn't usually concerning, but something felt off. There was no way to explain what you were feeling - maybe it was gut instinct. The lamp was on, and it took a minute for your eyes to adjust to the soft light.

You looked over at the corner of the tent and saw Daryl sitting there. He was cleaning one of his hunting knives, and he had a far-away look in his eyes. His hands trembled slightly, and his gaze lingered on the blade for a beat too long. You sat up on the cot and spoke softly so you wouldn't startle him.

“Daryl, baby, what's goin' on?”

He flinched and looked up at you with a stunned look on his face. Daryl didn't drop the knife; if anything, his grip tightened. “Ain't gonna do nothin'.”

Picking up on what he was implying, you stood up and walked over to him. You'd been in the same place he was, and you knew how dangerous this line of thinking could be. You crouched in front of him and held your hand out.

“Please give me that.”

Daryl hesitated and turned his head to avoid your gaze. You weren't going to stop, though.

“Daryl, please.”

Taking a shaky breath, he nodded and slowly handed you the knife. You laid it to the side and sat down beside him. He was anxiously fumbling with the hem of his shirt, and you could tell that he was trying not to look at your face.

“What's goin' on in your head?”

For a moment, Daryl hesitated again before speaking quietly. His voice wavered, and his tone was much more timid than you were used to.

“Somethin' ain't right with me. Can't sleep or stop thinkin'. It should've been me, y'know?”

The group had lost someone on this last run, and Daryl took it harder than expected. Your heart broke hearing what he had said, and you reached over to gently grab his hand. Initially, he tensed, but then he softened into your touch. Your fingers interlaced, and you did your best to stay calm. Panicking or making him feel guilty would only make things worse.

“I know it might feel that way, but I'm really glad that it wasn't you. You mean a great deal to me, and I wouldn't be the same if I lost you.”

Even though he was refusing to make eye contact, you watched as his eyes filled with tears and he quickly tried to blink them away. Watching him struggle felt sickeningly familiar, and it made your chest ache.

“I wasn't actually gonna do nothin' - was just thinkin' 'bout it. I'm real tired, sweetheart. Maybe things would be easier if everythin' just stopped.”

“Your pain might've been gone, but you would've just passed it on to me.”

You weren't saying this to shame him; it was simply the truth. You would be lost without him, and it was devastating to see him like this. You controlled your reaction, though.

To your surprise, your words got through to him, and that's when he broke down. He was crying, but it wasn't dramatic, loud weeping. This was his body finally releasing what it had been holding. His shoulders shook with silent sobs, and his hands instinctively covered his face. As a child, he'd been taught not to show emotion in front of others, but you were different. You were safe.

Without saying anything, you pulled him closer and held him through it. Daryl's body shook against yours, and his hands were still shielding his face. You regulated your breathing in an attempt to encourage him to match it and carefully ran your fingers through his hair.

“I've got you, baby. Ain't goin' nowhere.”

Usually, he wouldn't let anyone hold him like this, but he allowed it. His breathing was starting to even out, and his tears had slowed down. Daryl removed his hands from his face and lay his head in your lap. Seeking out your comfort like this made him feel weak, but he couldn't help it.

You continued stroking his hair, and you used your fingernails to lightly scratch his scalp. This sometimes helped him sleep, and you hoped that it would soothe him. He was still taking measured breaths, but he was calming down. After a moment, he broke the silence and turned his head to look up at you through damp eyelashes.

“I'm sorry for breakin' down on you like I'm some kind of pussy. Ain't s'posed to get like this.”

“Don't ever apologize for bein' human, baby. I'd rather see you like this than have to bury another person that I love.”

Trying not to get emotional again, he nodded and dragged his calloused palm over his face to clear his tears. Your words were comforting, and your touch helped in ways that he couldn't even begin to describe. He felt a wave of gratitude wash over him, and he couldn't help the small smile that pulled at the corner of his lips.

“Thank you for bein' here with me, darlin'. It helps more than you could ever know. I hope that I ain't scare you or nothin'.”

“You didn't scare me at all, my love. I've been in your position - I used to try to bleed out all the bad in my life. It doesn't help, though.”

Hearing that hurt his heart, but he was thankful that you were being honest. Daryl didn't want you to feel the same darkness that he did, but he appreciated you sharing that with him. He knew how hard it was for you to be open about your mental health.

“I'm sorry that you felt that way. Do you ever get that urge now?”

“Sometimes, but I've got good people around me and reasons to stay. Just like you do. I know it's hard to see that, though.”

”I feel it, but it ain't somethin' that I'm used to. I'm not sure that I even deserve it.”

“You deserve everythin', baby. Let me help you carry this.”

Relaxing into your touch again, he felt himself getting drowsy, and he nodded against your lap. If you kept this up, he would be asleep in a few minutes. You used your free hand to trace the features of his face, and smiled softly as you watched his shoulders fully drop.

“You wanna move back to the bed or stay here?”

“Can we just lie like this? It feels good.”

You watched Daryl cringe a little at the neediness in his voice, but you didn't stop your movements. You continued what you were doing and nodded.

“Of course, my love.”

Within minutes, his eyes fluttered shut, and his body sagged against you. Daryl was fast asleep, and you allowed yourself to rest. The two of you slept like this - your back against the tent wall and him sprawled across your lap until the early morning.

[ajthecrayon]

I got hit in the face by @occluminary talking about Remus cumming over and over and I couldn't help but imagine Barty and Evan being the ones tying him up. I've seen so many people want Remus tied to a vibrator specifically um- so... here you go? Everything has to involve Barty and Evan with me okay...they're my faves...

Moonrosekiller? Wolfrosekiller? Someone send help. I started writing this on the poolside. The sun was melting my brain.

18+ a03 link.

wc: 1.8k

----

Remus woke up to the cold air against his skin, his limbs tied back with pretty royal blue rope. His legs pulled apart just enough to expose his wet cunt.

He knew he'd be waking up like this, so he's unsure why he's so surprised when he's woken up by the feeling of gentle licks against cunt. He jolts, and a hand comes up to caress his hip, his tongue pulling back to say a soft good morning before digging back in. A flush creeps across his cheeks at the realization that this is actually happening.

After an incredibly embarrassing amount of time of working up the courage he managed to ask Evan and Barty to be the doms in charge of him. They, to say the least, were overjoyed at the thought of having Remus as a precious sub all to themselves.

Evan had been the one to delicately tie his limbs back without waking him up. The soft fibers of the rope artfully show off what muscles he did have, and wrapped around his chest, plumping his pecs slightly. And to top it all off a lacy light blue collar resting on his neck. No name tag for this was a one time thing after all.

Barty was in charge of toys, and the overall direction the scene would go. He didn't have many plans, just to prod at the pretty puppy until he stopped working. As Remus requested after all.

Remus blinks the sleep from his eyes as he tries to process the sensation Evan's tongue circling his t-dick gently, and not quite sucking. Not yet. His spine tingles from anticipation. He looks around and finds Barty watching Evan eat him out with a grin, only turning to Remus when he realizes he's watching him.

Barty's ringed hand caresses Remus' honey locks, gently playing with the curls. "There's our pretty puppy.." he leans down from where he stands next to them by the bed. His hand grips his hair only slightly meaner making Remus turn his attention to Evan.

And he can't help the low whine he makes when he really looks at Evan. He's lapping at him like he's his last meal. Remus wants nothing more than to pull on Evan's head and ride against his tongue, but with his arms pulled back there's nothing he can do. All he really can do is take what he's given by his owners.

It isn't long until Remus is feeling desperate and ready to cum. Barty has long left the bedside, leaving to dig through a bag they had brought with them. Remus can't pay attention either way. Too distracted by the fingers filling him and the mouth that's deliciously sucking at his little cock. It's too much, too fast and it's only his first orgasm.

"F-fuck wait it's-" he doesn't manage to finish his sentence before his body goes taught and he's arching up into Evan's mouth. Remus whines and curses as Evan suckles him through it. He grits his teeth near painfully until Evan pulls away. Evan kisses the inside of his thigh watching Remus come down a bit.

Remus' cheeks are flushed, his chest heaving slightly. His bangs stick to his forehead, with the slight sweat that built up there. His scars stand out against the flushed skin. His lips parted slightly as he caught his breath, not given much of a chance to breathe properly before a black ball-gag is sipped into his mouth to keep him from grinding his teeth.

Remus licks around the intrusion getting used to the feel of it. Barty checks that it's not too tight, and then smiles at his work.

"Already so ruined and we just started. Ev- grab the toy from the bag would you?" he says lightly, not moving his gaze from Remus. Who looks up at him with anticipation as he pulls at his restraints to make sure they're really holding him back.

Barty gets serious for a minute "You know what to do if you want us to stop, since you can't speak?" Remus nods, and then shakes his head no saying "nuh-uh-uh" over and over. Barty nods, and runs his hand through Remus' hair once more. "Very good..." he mumbles as Evan fetches the vibrator and extra rope.

He makes quick work of tying the toy, nestling it in between his folds and under his little cock. Remus shivers still feeling sensitive from the first orgasm. He watches Evan with wide eyes, his breathing picking up as he ties his legs together with the toy in between. The blue of the rope goes beautifully with the white and gold wand.

Remus is given no warning when it's flipped on to the lowest setting, he gasps around the gag and squirms. Evan stays by his legs, a comforting hand placed on his thigh. Even on its lowest setting it feels too much, and it only takes a few seconds until he's riding the edge.

And right when he's about to cum, his back arches and his moans get pitchy.. Evan turns it off. Remus' eyes open, and he glares down at him for teasing him.

Evan looks amused with himself. "Just wanted to let you know that after this we won't be turning it off until we think you're done..." he pats his thigh and when Remus is about to sass him through his gag he hears the switch click and he cries out at the unexpected sensation.

It takes a few seconds until he's tumbling over the edge...he whimpers and trashes through it and Evan clicks it to the highest setting and that's when Remus starts fighting against his restraints. He trashes and pulls, the soft rope not giving.

"Shhh...it's okay- you asked us so sweetly to tie you up like this, and have you at our mercy." Barty coos, holding him by the back of his neck. "Look at you rutting into the toy like a desperate puppy." he clicks his tongue grabbing him by the hair to force him to look down. He sees Evan's hand come up and caress his thigh soothingly as he looks down.

Remus feels drool leak out around the gag as he chokes on his own moans. He feels tears start to well in his eyes. It hurts so good. His breath hitches as he realizes he's about to cum again. He struggles in the restraints once more, mewling into the gag.

He stares down at the offending toy and hand that keeps tracing patterns into his thigh, only adding to the harsh sensation of the toy. His breathing stutters as his body goes taut is mind blanking for a minute as his orgasm washes over him. He trashes after the vibration forces him through it and he cries out for it to stop.

The gag muffles his pleas for it to stop. As he speaks it pushes the drool out and around the ball gag only adding to the mess that's already gone down his chin and to his chest. His pleas go unanswered. They don't stop the toy and he fights with Barty's mean grip on his hair. Barty's hand moves to the nape of his neck, warm and comforting. "Good puppies don't talk, so hush up under that gag would you?" he taunts, tapping the black ball. Remus keens loudly twisting his body to get away from the toy, it's futile. The twisting jostles the toy slightly hitting a particularly sensitive spot on his cock that has him holding his breath. Remus goes still, his breath caught as his eyes roll back. It takes a second but he's keening loudly. A noise he didn't know he could make as he finishes for a fourth time. His thighs twitch uncontrollably, he wills his eyes open to look at Evan who is still dutifully sitting at his side. Evan's smile is hungry as he takes in all of Remus' reactions. As if he's something meant to be studied, and not a person left to be a subject for his whim. His eyes watch as his thighs jiggle, the soft flesh twitching with the movement of his muscles. Evan traces over it, bringing his mouth down to bite. Remus whimpers, the added pain sending him hurdling towards another orgasm. His hole pulsates weakly as he heaves through the overstimulation. He wants it to stop, but at the same time it's deliciously too much. He twitches and spasms not sure where one orgasm begins and the other ends. It get's to the point where he can barely breathe. He's choking on his own spit, and his thoughts are elsewhere. He's on cloud nine. The blending feeling of his orgasms stops, and an intense sensation builds. His abs clench and he's sure the next one is going to kill him. It hits him he isn't quite sure where he goes. It's all consuming and he can't even get himself to breathe let alone open his eyes. The last thing he hears is Barty whispering in his ear what a good puppy he's been.

The next time he opens his eyes, he's curled in on himself with the ropes removed. Barty and Evan's quiet chattering fill the room. He brings himself to adjust himself and turn to where their voices are coming from. Immediately they're both on him. Evan first gently touching where the ropes were, careful not to jostle him too badly. "Any pain?" her murmurs softly. His thumbs rubbing each of his wrists. The look in his eyes are one of genuine concern. Remus is shocked they stayed around for the...after part. He fully expected them to take their stuff and leave. He had already mentally prepared to take care of himself. Apparently the shock is evident enough on his face when Barty slides onto the bed next to him. Opposite of Evan. "You didn't think we were just going to leave you...did you?" he asks, a shocked tone lacing his voice. "...Sort of." Remus admits. Not revealing the take out he ordered for himself, and movies he had to give himself some pseudo after care. Barty scoffs. "We're assholes, but not monsters Rem." he chides lightly. His hand cups the side of his face to pull him to a gentle kiss on his cheek. Evan kisses the other side after he's done checking for any bruising. Evan's hand touches the collar he didn't even realize he still had on. He feels around for the clasp, and right before he's about to take it off. Remus' scarred shaky hand touches his wrist and shakes his head. "I'd like to leave it on...please." he asks politely. Evan and Barty share a look, and then a knowing smile. A conversation between the two lost on him. Barty turns to him. "Whatever you want," he assures before kissing the top of his head. Remus settles in between the two as they discuss the aftercare like he isn't even there. He allows himself to lay his trust in them once more, no longer worried about potentially dropping.

[enbyfvcker]

[Unsettling silence]

Wade Wilson x Logan(worst!wolverine)

Word count: 0.7k

Summary/prompt: Wade is insecure and quiet after coming back home, and Logan notices, concerned about the unusual quietness.

Tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff, insecure Wade Wilson.

Something's off.

Oh, something is definitely wrong.

Wade's home, and it's quiet. Fucking silent.

Not a joke could be heard, neither humming, whistling, or singing, or anything. Nothing.

Logan's a quiet person himself, but honestly, over the past months, he grew used to Wade never shutting the fuck up.

So yeah, he knows something's off when Wade barely uttered a word today after coming back from the market in the morning.

He was sitting on the couch, watching some random cheesy reality show with the captions on and hugging a cushion, wearing a hello kitty themed shirt, boxers with hearts printed on them and his mask.

He doesn't usually wear his mask inside the apartment.

"Hey, bub." Logan speaks, sitting next to the merc that doesn't take his eyes away from the TV.

"Hi, peanut." His tone seemed normal enough... Distant, though.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes."

"You sure?"

"Yes, why wouldn't it be?" He finally looks at Logan. The whites of the mask pointed at him.

"You're quiet today..."

"So? Aren't you happy?"

"Why are you wearing your mask?"

"Cause I'm Deadpool. Duh-doy."

"Sure, but usually at home, you're just Wade."

"..."

"Is everything really okay?"

"Yeah! And if it weren't, then I probably wouldn't know how to talk about it since you probably wouldn't understand and probably think I'm dumb. So yes, I'm great. Perfect. Really jolly, thank you."

Logan's definitely not great with words, but he cares about Wade. So he makes an effort.

"I can listen... I won't think you're dumb. I mean, not more than I normally do." He tries to joke, but Wade doesn't laugh. "Talk to me."

"That's a new one."

"Wade..."

"Is no big deal. Really. I was just grocery shopping, and people looked at me weird. Nothing new. Kids looked traumatized, old ladies terrified... You know, the usual. Heard some fun comments. Had a real great time." Wade sighs, looking back at the TV, but he didn't really seem to focus now.

Logan felt his heart ache at the sadness clear in the merc's tone, so uncharacteristic of him.

"I'm sorry, W-"

"No. It's fine. It's nothing. I'm used to it. 'Been living with this ugly old mug for years, it's not like any comment or insult can be news to me or whatever. It's not like they're wrong to feel repulsed, anyway."

"You're not repulsive."

Wade just chuckles, even though there's no real amusement in his voice. "Right."

"I'm serious, Wade. You think I just fuck with anyone?"

"Yeah...? Not to call you a whore or anything, but-"

"I don't. And I don't think you're ugly." He gets closer, hand slowly creeping behind Wade's head. Wade quickly holds Logan's arm strongly, hesitantly, but then he sees the genuine look in his eyes and let go.

Slowly, Logan removed the mask and placed it on the couch, holding Wade's face with both hands and looking at him deeply.

"Those people don't know you. They don't know the kind, great, funny, loyal guy you are. I know you, bub. And I love you. Every part, even the ones that annoy the shit out of me."

Wade's eyes fill with water, and he looks at Logan like a sad puppy.

"Got it?" Logan asks firmly, and Wade just nods, feeling a knot in his throat. "Good." Logan leans and kisses Wade's lips softly, the merc melting completely. They pull away, and Logan can see Wade fighting some tears.

"You really mean it? You don't think I'm ugly?"

"No, I don't."

"Can you put me in your pocket and never let me go? Back pocket is preferable." Wade whines, burying his face in Logan's neck, who just chuckles.

"Don't think I can, bub."

"You can! We can steal Antman's suit and shrink me or something. Want you to take care of me..."

"What if I just make us a bath and hold you?"

"...That'd be nice..."

"Great." He kisses Wade's neck.

"Are you being romantic? You are! Didn't know you had it in you, peanut. I love it, don't stop."

"What do you mean? I can be romantic." Logan retorts, sounding a bit offended.

"Can you buy rose petals and make a path for me to the bathub?"

"What, do you want a honeymoon?"

"Yes!"

Logan laughs. "I can carry you." He offers.

Wade's eyes shine.

"Pleasepleasepleaseplease-"

Logan rolls his eyes and scoops Wade up, standing and holding him bridal style. Wade wraps his arms around Logan's neck eagerly.

"Oh. Did I just die? I'm in heaven. Wolvie heaven. Gosh, your arms-"

"Come on, let's go." He carries Wade to the bathroom.

[piastri-fvx]

Walking in the wind. Arthur Leclerc.

Pairing: Arthur Leclerc x girlfriend!reader

Genre: angst

Type: smau, irl

Summary: When Arthur's girlfriend follows her dream and goes to college in New York, making Arthur and her have to deal with the distance.

Word Count: 1.285+

Face claim: Sabrina Carpenter & girls from pinterest, as usual, lmao :)

Disclaimer/s: not really any, just angst and i guess seperation anxiety/the fear of growing apart (?) also wanted to mention that my french is not perfect, so please don't come at me if i make any mistakes <333

A/N: wooooo, kinda trying something new with this, hope u enjoy!! <333

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

@arthur_leclerc

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, yourusername, charlotte2304, lorenzotl and 481.847 others

arthur_leclerc pour toujours ma fille ❤️

[translation: forever my girl]

tagged: @yourusername

| view all comments...

yourusername je t'aime!! ❤️ liked by creator [translation: i love you]

-> arthur_leclerc je t'aime, y/n/n ❤️

-> user1 yall, this kinda looks like a breakup...

-> user2 yeahhh, like... WHAT IS HAPPENING??

-> user3 y/n's going to New York for college 😭

-> user4 oh noooo, it's a goodbye post 😣

user5 face card is eating 😍

landonorris who's this DIVA? 🤭 liked by creator

-> user6 FRRRR, she is literally stunning

-> user7 i hope arthur can fight 😣

charles_leclerc ❤️ liked by creator

-> user8 the whole leclerc family is here 😭

alexandrasaintmleux we'll all miss you so so much, y/n!! i love you 💕 liked by creator

-> yourusername i love you, love of my life

-> arthur_leclerc i thought I was the love of your life??

-> user9 period.

-> yourusername @arthur_leclerc you're a solid second place 🥰

-> arthur_leclerc why, ouch. i thought we had something special

-> yourusername jk jk, you'll always be my number one ❤️🙄 liked by creator

-> user10 as she should, lmao

user11 i love how y/n's basically a part of the leclerc family 😭🙏

-> user12 arthur and her are basically married atp 🤭

-> user13 real

-> user14 the cutest family

charlotte2304 wishing you all the best, y/n 💕 liked by creator

-> user15 OMG HI CHARLOTTE

-> user16 frrrr

user17 i'll misss the y/n & arthur content so much

user18 you're the loss of my life 😣💔

-> user19 😭😭😭

<>

Arthur and you stand in the airport opposite of each other, tears glistening in both of your, but also his eyes. You both know.

You didn't want to believe it, but you knew that due to his busy schedule and you being in New York, you wouldn't be seeing each ither for a long time.

"So..." he finally speaks up, his voice gentle and unsteady. He doesn't meet your eyes, instead directing his gaze to the airport floor. "I guess this is goodbye?" He then questions, his voice barely over a whisper, afraid of the answer.

You almost immediately shake your head, protesting, "Don't say that. It's not goodbye. It's just a... see you later."

He opens his mouth to speak but you gently shush him, instead adding, "It's just for two years. After that, I'll be back here in Monaco with you. In our apartment, as if i was never away," a tear rolls down your cheek but you smile, knowing that you have to be strong now.

He slowly nods, his eyes flickering to the terminal that shows the flight times and then to your luggage that is standing next to you.

He tries to smile at your words, knowing that you'll wait for each other, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes, seeming rather sad. His voice is barely over a whisper when he speaks up again. "You'll miss your flight.."

Your try to hum, your heart breaking into a million pieces at the sight of Arthur, the person you love the most, in tears, his eyes sad and his whole deameanor seemingly down.

Despite the amount of noise at the rather busy airport, the world around the two of you seems to fade, leaving only him and you, both with heavy hearts.

He knew you had to leave, you both did.

He takes a deep breath, taking a step forward and tightly wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a tight, kind of desperate embrace.

You simply stayed like that for a moment, his face staying buried in the crook of your neck as he gently rubs your back, trying to comfort you.

He pulls back just enough to cradle your face in his hands, his palms warm against your skin.

"Don't forget me, yeah?" He speaks up, a small smile tugging at his lips, an attempt to cheer you up. "And you better come back to me as soon as you're done with your studies."

"I will," you speak up, a small, soft giggle leaving your lips ad you finally meet his eyes. "I wouldn't dare of forgetting you. I'll text you every day. And we'll call each other."

"Promise?" He asks, a soft smile appearing on his lips as he gently held your chin in his hand, his thumb gently stroking your skin.

"Pinky promise." You grin, holding up your pink finger as he mirrors your action, locking his pinky with yours.

A sense of relief washed over him at your promise, his shoulders visibly less tense now, the firm yet soft expression on his face softening even more. "Bien.."

[translation: good]

He slowly leans down, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss.

The kiss was so bittersweet; the feeling of his soft lips on yours so familiar, despite this being the last time you two would have a moment like this for a while.

Arthur was kissing you like he was afraid that the moment his lips left yours, you would dissapear. He was holding you tight against his chest, as if afraid that he would never touch you again.

The kiss wasn't hurried at all. It was slow, chaste, tender and gentle. It was a goodbye kiss, a "i'll miss you" kiss, a "please don't forget about me" kiss.

The moment your lips eventually parted, Arthur rested his forehead against yours, his eyes remaining closed, as if he wasn't quite ready to look at you yet.

You just wanted to stay in this moment as long as possible.

He let out a sigh, reluctantly opening his eyes to meet, taking a step back, his hands now holding yours.

"I really gotta go now," you quietly spoke, knowing there was no way around this.

He nods, finally letting go of your hands and looking at you one more time. "Be safe. I'll wait for you." He said, his voice soft, yet sure.

With that, you smile, turning around and finally dissapearing into the criwd to go board your flight.

Arthur stays where he is, waiting until he can't see you anymore.

<>

@yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, charlotte2304, lorenzotl, landonorris and 1.947.027 others

yourusername happy anniversary to the love of my life ❤️

tagged: @arthur_leclerc

| view all comments...

arthur_leclerc happy anniversary, l'amour de ma vie ❤️ liked by creator

[translation: the love of my life]

-> user1 they're so 😍😍😍

landonorris wowwwww, keep it PG13, please liked by creator

-> yourusername shush, you're single 🥰

-> user2 i love how lando and y/n act like siblings when they're together

-> user3 she ate him up 💀

-> user4 @yourusername preach, girly

user5 y/n in her aesthetic era 😍

user6 favorite wag 💕

-> yourusername my favorite wag is ollie 😝

-> olliebearman no.

-> yourusername YES.

-> olliebearman i am NOT a wag.

-> yourusername yes you are. you have kimi 😌

-> olliebearman he has a girlfriend???

-> yourusername i know, she's stunning 😍

-> babickovaeli tyyyy!! you're literally drop dead gorgeous 🫶🫶🫶 liked by creator

-> yourusername AHHHHH OMG HIIII

-> babickovaeli heyyyy!!!! liked by creator

-> user7 damn 💀

user8 ollie and y/n bickering like children is so funny to me 😭

alexandrasaintmleux so happy for you both 💕 liked by creator

-> yourusername how's my baby???

-> arthur_leclerc me?

-> yourusername no, silly 😌🙄 i'm talking about Leo.

-> charles_leclerc leo's good!! he misses his aunt though liked by creator

-> user9 poor arthur 😭

-> user10 i don't even blame her, leo's adorable

user11 "thank you for the couple content, y/n" we all chant in unison

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

A/N: actually had no motivation for a moment because i had already written half of this and tumblr deleted it, but yeahhh... 🥰 hope u enjoyed!! reblogs, likes and follows are greatly appreciated <333

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Please I beg u, I am in desperate need of jealous Poe! 😭😩🤧 can be fo! or resistance, doesn't matter. No pressure ofc!!

Ooh! I'ma go with Resistance Poe because FO!Poe would probably just kill that person and punish reader for not telling that individual off lol.

Not on my watch

Poe Dameron x fem!reader

Wanna get tagged?

Summary: The new recruit was flirting with you. Poe did not like that.

Cw/triggers: Nsfw, jealous and possessive Poe, p in v, oral (fem! receiving).

The new recruit who had just been at the base a couple of days, was helping you out of your X-Wing, grasping your hand gently, too gentle in his hand, looking at you with lovesick expression.

"Thanks." you gave a friendly smile.

"You're welcome. Gotta say, didn't expect some pilots to be as gorgeous as you." he winked, having no intentions of releasing your hand yet.

Both of you were unaware of BB-8 zipping around nearby, catching that guy's obvious flirtation with you.

He gestured towards your helmet. "Oh, mind me holding that for you?" without waiting for your answer, he unclasped and gently moved it off from your head.

Suddenly BB-8 rolled up beside you, tilting its dome up and beeping curiously at you.

Just a second later, a familiar voice boomed through the hangar.

"Hey, you there!"

Poe approached you both, already looking displeased.

"That's your helmet?" Poe asked, his voice was filled with venom but he kept calm.

The recruit just smiled. "No, it's her helmet. I thought I'd be a gentleman for our pretty pilot."

Poe stared him down, his blood boiling up. "Well, I don't know if it works that way, buddy."

"And who are you?" The recruit scoffed, turning to face Poe, still grasping your helmet in his hands.

"Who do you think I am, recruit?" Poe tested him, arching his brow up.

The recruit scrutinized Poe, his eyes widened in realization as he spotted the rank tag.

"Oh, you're the com–"

"Yeah, the commander, that's right." Poe nodded, putting his hands on his hips.

The recruit literally swallowed down his cockiness and ego.

"Sorry about that, sir, I-I won't bother you again.." he stammered, handing you back your helmet then turned to leave, giving off how exposed and embarrassed he is.

Poe turned his attention to you. "Who was that guy?"

"A new recruit apparently." you shrug.

Poe arched his brow up once more. "And you let that guy get you out of your cockpit and almost pamper you?"

"I did not let him– wait, how do you know that?"

"BB-8 saw everything."

BB-8 confirmed Poe's statement with a proud beep.

"Anyways, you showed him his place. He won't annoy me anymore."

Poe cracked a cocky smile. "Yeah I did," he nods, then his demeanor turned more serious "and later I will show you yours too."

Not sure if you've heard him correctly, you blinked at his words. "Excuse me?" you gave a confused smile.

Poe's cocky smile turned into a grin. "I know you heard me, baby."

"Poe, it was just a recruit not knowing where his place was until you showed up." you giggle.

Poe looked around to see if he could catch the recruit again, seeing him carrying a crate, then stepped closer to you, leaning in for a hug, making sure to make it obvious so the guy would look.

Once Poe saw the recruit looking, both of his hands slid down your back to cup your ass, giving a soft squeeze.

"Well, he tried charming the wrong person. You're my girl, nobody gets to pamper her except me." he whispered into your ear, glancing back at the recruit, who's mouth was agape.

Seeing that reaction from the recruit, Poe couldn't help but smirk before he upped the game by planting kisses along the side of your neck.

"Poe, we're in the hangar." you chided softly but unable to hide the smile.

Only now did Poe pull away. "I know. Gotta make sure everyone knows who you belong to, right?" he smirked.

Later that day, Poe stormed into your quarters, sparing no second to get you undressed on the bed and on top of you.

"Baby, imagine that prick seeing me worshipping you rightnow."

Poe licks his way downwards your stomach, your belly, making you squirm and buck up as he changes his way to your inner thigh.

"You still can't get that guy out of your head?" you chuckle.

Poe smirks against your skin. "After all he was flirting with my girl, of course."

"You're being ridiculous–"

He didn't gave you another second, latching his mouth onto your dripping hole, sucking and licking until it was impossible for you to think straight.

"Maybe I am." he mumbled against you, dipping his tongue inside as far as possible. Then looked up, seeing your beautiful face contorted into pleasure, your fingers gripping the sheets so hard your knuckles were white.

Poe smirked, knowing he had you where he wanted you - underneath him, with the only thing on your mind being the pleasure he's giving you.

You got ripped out of the intense feeling he gave you when he abruptly stopped, making you whine at the loss, only so Poe could free himself.

Poe got between your legs, aligning his dick with your hole and leaning down to your ear.

"But hey, sometimes it's my job to make sure people know you're mine."

He started thrusting into you, slowly at first to get you riled up some more, increasing his movements as your moans got needier.

Suddenly Poe stopped, his mouth went next to your ear, letting you feel his hot breath against your skin.

"Tell me you're mine, sweetie..." he whispered huskily.

Your mind couldn't really comprehend what he just said due to you still being numb from all the ecstasy.

"W-what- wait what?" you gasp, bucking your hips up to get some desperate friction.

Poe chuckled lowly, thrusting into you all the way until he was fully sheathed, then proceeds to grind his pelvis against you, driving you mad with pleasure, then stopping again.

"Come on, baby," in a tortuously slow movement, he started thrusting again, knowing it will make your mind go blank "say it."

"P-Poe, you're killing me!" you whine, but it sounded more like a moan.

"That's not what I wanted you to say, honey." Poe chuckled, figuring you must be close due to your desperation.

You bucked your hips again, feeling your peak approaching. "I'm yours, Poe. All yours." you blurt out, your imminent orgasm made you sound so desperate.

Poe grins, starting to pound into you, sending your mind spiraling. "There you go, baby." he pants, his movements got sloppier with every thrust.

You came first, with Poe only a second behind before he released himself into you.

With both of you laying on the bed together afterwards, you couldn't help but ask. "Did you calm down now?"

Poe took you into his arms. "No chance, sweetie." he chuckled, giving you a lingering kiss. "If I catch that prick flirting with you again then I don't know what I will do."

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

With this fic I'd like to introduce my very new taglist! :)

No pressure, only if you're interested! <3

@nekoyin @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction