#*posts this and immediately runs away to curl up in a corner*

[holymaccaronii]

AAAAAH okay okay, I decided myself to share 2 things in one in this post: the lore of my ihnmaims AU + a design I’m working on. To be completely honest, I’m not sure if I’ll want to develop this AU into a fic or anything like that, but for now I’ll use it as an excuse to draw and design characters. Note that I might come back to this post and edit the lore paragraph, as it is still a work in progress, though I am liking where this is going. Please PLEASE excuse my English, some things might not make sense without me noticing, but I tried describing the plot the best I could. *Ahem*, now, the lore:

“PLAN B”

The lore takes place after the bad ending in the videogame where the player is turned into the worm, yet still doesn’t allow AM to access and torture the humans sealed in the moon colony. Since the last humans had “failed” their mission to defeat AM, a “Plan B” was scheduled to happen. Unbeknownst to the humans of the colony, another AI was created and implanted within the moon, taking up almost all of the space in its core due to its large size. This machine had the sole purpose of ensuring the survival of those humans once AM was defeated, or not. Inside it were millions of plant seeds, animal embryos and frozen samples that would later be used to repopulate the earth, yet it also had defense and destruction technologies to be used in case AM was not defeated. This machine was perfectly calibrated to be able to overcome any adversity that arose, but of course, all that changed when one of the humans managed to wake up and leave their capsule. This human got to understand what all of this was about, though they did not like where this was heading one tiny bit, thus they used the time they had left before the last human on Earth was killed to change and mess it all up. Humanity's greed had claimed yet another victim, as this AI was torn apart piece by piece until it was completely separated and rebuilt into an insane amount of sentient robot models as the years passed. This human managed to transform their own body as well, rebuilding it just as a sacred temple in order to be crowned monarch of this new society now living in a city on the moon. Despite all this, the goal of bringing humanity back still remained, now with the small condition that this human had to be considered a savior and supreme leader to all. Once the last human on Earth had died, robotic troops began to be sent to Earth to study it in detail and plan attacks against AM’s systems, which were disadvantageously located deep underground. Many of these attacks resulted in large unnecessary losses as these robots were not calibrated to combat AM, but they still continued to upgrade themselves to increase their damage range over time. This continued on as a seemingly endless war that barely progressed.

Again, I am aware that maybe some stuff might not make sense (or maybe it does?), but this is basically a continuation of what happened canonically in the videogame. The name “PLAN B” also makes reference to my OC BE, thought that was cool :p. I’ll explain the events that happen here later on as well.

Many if not all of the robots I’ll design will include a whole lotta exposed wires + their outer shell/ body parts, as I liked this dynamic, and it will be important later. The “monarch” that I mentioned in the paragraph is turning out to be this guy down here. I based myself off from those ceramic sun decorations, and thought it would be cool to make his face switchable. In reality they have a body too but I jus like wire amalgamations too much + they’re easy to draw. I’ll continue workin on em :-)

Edit: [THIS LORE IS NOT UPDATED]

[stunie]

“NEEDIN’ A RIDE REAL, REAL BAD!!”

HAIKYUU + THIGH RIDING ᯓ⭑ ft. bokuto koutarou, daichi sawamura, kuroo tetsurou, miya atsumu, sakusa kiyoomi, & ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader

contains : explicit smut (18+), thigh riding / dry humping, phone call (keep quiet n ride!), risky sex / very mild: cw exhibitionism, squirting, teasing, praise, kissing <3, hair pulling (you to them), orgasm denial, usage of pet names — 2.9K WC

note : yayya my first haikyuu post on here ! this is my response to this thirst here ૮꒰˶˃ ^ ˂̵˵��ა hope u all have fun reading this <3

KUROO TETSUROU.

“Whoa whoa,” Kuroo coos through a breathy chuckle, big hand wrapping around your hip to hold you still against his thigh. “Easy now, pretty thing. Let’s pause for a second, okay?”

The sound of your protests and whines almost make him cave right off the bat. “…Tetsu..” you sulk, corners of your lips curling into a sad pout even when he gives you an apologetic smile before he’s jutting his thumb to gesture at his phone, the irritating melody of his ringtone repeating itself as the screen lights up, “Incoming call from: Kenma!” displayed across the top.

“Sorryy,” he huffs. “Can’t. This one’s important.”

He’s giving you a reassuring squeeze around your hip, a silent reminder that he’ll give you everything you need in a few minutes, but you’re not having any of that. Your arms come to stubbornly wrap around his neck before he can pick up the call, sugar sweet voice already making pleas only a second later.

On any other given day, you would have let him take the call with only an irritated huff— just not today. Not with the way you can already feel your orgasm running away from you. “P-please, please Tetsu,” you sob, “I was so close. Can’t wait any longer.. please?”

His eyes are widening a bit at the unfamiliar desperation in your voice, grunt slipping out when his cock reacts to it too, twitching and slapping against his stomach— a reoccurring habit that seems to only occur whenever you give him that needy little look of yours.

“Awww,” he whispers, and you barely catch the strain in his voice. “Well I’m sorry for ruining your moment, angel.”

You’re practically purring as soon as you feel his hand come to lightly cup your jaw, immediately melting into his touch as he smiles in response. “Ah— fine,” Kuroo caves as soon as he sees your hands coming to cutely hold his wrist in place. “Guess i can’t stop you if you need it so bad. But listen here..”

His thumb moves from your jaw, digit pressing into your bottom lip to angle your face at him. The look you’re giving him is just to die for, pouty lips soft against his thumb and you’re peering up at him through those pleady eyes— as if there was even a single chance that Kuroo would ever deny his pretty girl of an orgasm in the first place.

“Nothing crazy. Deal? Kenma hears and..” he presses a little harder into your lip, watching the way your tongue comes to swipe at the invasive finger. “Me and you? Are never hearing the end of it.”

You’re swiftly nodding as soon as the words register, hands coming to rest on the muscles of his shoulders as you resume your movement the next second, gasping at the way your clit catches against his thigh. “Kenma?” You hear him hum, tucking his phone between his cheek and shoulder— quick and casual.

Maybe too casual.

“Mmm,” his eyes flicker back towards you when you take in a sharp inhale. “So it’s about that. You sure you don’t wanna meet up to go over it?”

A loud gasp slips out from you when he abruptly grabs you by your waist, and your hands slam over your mouth, Kuroo tensing beneath you. “…Hm? Yeah, I’m listening.” He chuckles, regaining his composure in an instant as he starts to rock you back and forth against his leg— and fast.

The roughness has your face contorting, nails digging deep into his shoulders as you try and resist the strong hands guiding you back and forth— try and slow him down a bit, delay your oncoming orgasm by even second if anything at all. You hadn’t expected it to come back so fast, and.. you both knew good and well that you weren’t gonna be able to stay quiet.

You give him a look, something resembling your best attempt at a glare, but he’s ignoring it— casually chatting with kenma about something you can’t quite catch. You’re only left to bite your lip, eyebrows deeply furrowed as you desperately fight the knot tightening inside your belly, thighs clamping against his own as he flexes his quad straight into you.

“Oh,” Kuroo says, hand leaving your waist to pick up his phone again, finger hovering over the ‘mute’ button, and your body is falling limp onto his chest, hands balancing yourself on him as you peer up at him through tired eyes and a heavy pant. “Actually..”

“..Looks like I got a bit of a problem to take care of here first.” He smiles. “So give me a minute, yeah?”

MIYA ATSUMU.

“Gonna have to keep that pretty voice of yours down.” Atsumu’s lips brush against the shell of your ear, big hands tight around your hips as he drags you up and down his thigh. “Or ‘Samu’s gonna hear ya.”

Your hips stutter against his leg, drawing a sharp gasp from you- and he curses under his breath. Osamu would be back any second now, and yet he’s got you seated on him, your lounge shorts pulled to the side so he can draw one quick orgasm out of you before the three of you head out for dinner.

Because you— Atsumu’s impatient lil bunny, or so he calls you, just couldn’t wait until after the dinner to get a quick treat.

“‘M trying.” You whisper, voice breathless and whiny, and you tighten your embrace around his middle, burying your face deep into the fabric of his sweater. “Feels ‘s good… so good— need more..”

“I know, I know— later, yeah?” He sounds unsteady from how roughly he’s moving you against him, muscles of his thigh flexing and hardening underneath you. “Gonna give it to ya real good. stuff ya nice and full. How’s that sound, dirty girl?”

You want that.

You know exactly how easy it’d be for him to get you gushing underneath his cock if it weren’t for your insistence on him not cumming. And well.. it kind of made sense to him— considering how your last creampie went. His mind thinks back to how you looked with his cum dribbling down your thighs as you nervously clamped them together, and how no one seemed to noticed the juices dripping into a neat little puddle beneath you.

It’d be so easy— he’s got you all mapped out and knows you like the back of his hand. He could just push those pretty thighs of yours up to your face, hold them nice and still as he pummels the deep spot inside you that has you chanting his name over and over, and your cunt would be gushing right after that.

“‘Tsumu.” You choke out, tightly latching onto him like a koala, “‘M gonna cum..!”

“You are, aren’t ya? I can tell.” He groans, and his thigh bounces up into you, mumbling a curse under his breath when you squeal at the roughness. “Show me that pretty face when you’re lettin’ go.”

A couple more rolls of your hips and you’re gasping and stuttering against him, Atsumu pulling you just right against his thigh as your eyes slam shut, knot inside you violently snapping in an instant as you tremble underneath him, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl.” His voice comes out deep and breathy, hands tightening their grip on you. “Ride it all out f’ me, rela- oh s-shit.”

Your eyes widen as soon as the sound of footsteps registers in your mind, and your head swiftly turns back to see that Atsumu’s already pulling your shorts back over your cunt, your juices immediately soaking through the fabric as he holds you flush against his chest, big hand cradling the back of your head.

“‘Tsumu..!” You whisper, but he’s shushing you with gentle strokes along the back of your head.

“What, ‘Samu?” he calls out, his mind putting together a silent prayer that his twin was not about to open the door.

His prayers go unanswered.

“You two ready yet?” Osamu’s asking as soon as he flings open the door, the knob accidentally slipping through his grasp, and your door crashes against your wall with a loud thud a second later.

You faintly hear him mutter an “oops” before his eyes are finally falling on you, brow raising at the sight of you clinging tightly onto atsumu as your chest heaves up and down.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI.

“What?” you can feel your concentration falter as soon as the sound of Sakusa’s voice reaches you, and you’re immediately wiping at the frustrated tears that have begun to collect along your lashes. “Can’t cum like that?”

You’re quick to shake your head, and he doesn’t miss the slight tremble to your lips. Cute.

Sakusa had his doubts about this idea of yours from the start. He knows how needy you always get— knows that despite that innocent face of yours, your cunt’s anything but. It’s greedy. Something like this was probably not gonna be able to get you to finish, and he knew that.. but a part of him was just curious.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was to see you this frustrated. Your chest is rising up and down with each angry pant, arm coming to rub at your nose from the occasional sniffle after being denied orgasm after orgasm.

And him? he’s never felt such a strong ache before. The dark spot on his shorts are a tell-tale sign that he’s been leaking with pre-cum, and he can practically feel it starting to drip down his cock. Neither of you were doing so well, and if he was being honest, he’s on the verge of flipping you over and putting you in a mating press— but the small voice inside him wants to see you come undone on his thighs. Badly.

He’s just gotta see how you look.

“Need your cock, Omi.” You mumble, rising onto your knees to scoot further up, but he’s stopping you only a second later. “Omi? Why..?”

“No.” he says flatly. “You don’t.”

“I do!” You’re protesting immediately after, hands balancing on his shoulders. “Can’t finish without it— ah!”

You yelp when he’s roughly pulling you back down, his quad flexing as soon as your cunt makes contact with his leg. The hands around your hips are tight, and Sakusa’s setting a rhythm only a moment later, keeping the muscles of his legs firm and flexed to better rub against your clit.

“W-wait!” You’re stammering, whining straight into his ear as you frantically latch onto him. He lets you bury your face into the crook of his neck as he works you closer to your high, forcing you into a mind-numbing pace to have you flying right off the edge in a few more seconds.

“You can— don’t fight it.” His voice comes out as a deep grunt, a result of his dragged out attempts at ignoring the borderline painful throb of his cock, and oh- he was so going to take you in a mating press after this. The second you’re finished gushing, he was gonna flip you over and finally rid himself this irritating ache.

“Omi!” You sob, eyes clenching shut as your hips start to stutter, and he can feel you trembling underneath his hands. “Omi.. O-omi— ‘m close!” He only responds by roughly pressing his thigh up against you, thick muscle hitting your clit just right as you choke out a scream, finally gushing all over his thighs.

“See?” He exhales, breath hitching in his throat when your nails dig deep into his back, his hands slowly moving you up and down to ride out your high.

“You can.”

DAICHI SAWAMURA.

“Feeling good, huh? Don’t try to fight it.”

Daichi grunts when you tug at his hair a little harder, face buried deep into his front as you desperately hump his leg. He’s gentle with you, strong hands guiding you up and down his leg, but he’d be lying if he said his patience wasn’t starting to wear thin.

The sweet nothings he’s been whispering into your ear this entire time are starting to sound a lot less like cooing and a lot more like grunting.

He couldn’t help it. He can feel you so so vividly, feel your juices dripping down the sides of his thigh and hear you moaning straight into his chest. You were soaked through and through, and it’s taking everything in him to stay patient and let you have this.

“There you go.” He’s praising you when you grind against him particularly hard, ignoring the way his shorts are feeling painfully tight around his cock. “Just like that— move exactly like that.”

“Daichi,” you whine. “‘M getting so close— feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He exhales deeply, and the way his cock twitches suddenly has him groaning, hands squeezing a bit too hard against your hips as you wince. “Daichi..?”

“Oops, sorry princess.” He’s clenching his jaw, giving you a weak smile as you wrap your arms around him. “That’s my bad. Don’t mind me, okay? Just.. worry about yourself— this is all about you right now.”

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI.

You weren’t as subtle as you thought.

His legs just looked so strong, so perfect to sit on, and you couldn’t help yourself. He didn’t seem to think too much of it when you first sat a little lower than you usually did, straddling his mid thigh as he flipped through another manga that Tendou had lent him earlier that week.

Just subtle movements up and down his thigh was your original plan, but it didn’t take very long for him to catch on.

“What are you doing?” Ushijima’s voice has you jolting from where you’re seated on his left thigh, his gaze now on you and the way you’re frantically waving your arms around in defense, barely able to stammer out a “N-nothing!”

You just barely catch the way his eyebrow raises in suspicion. It has you moving off him the next second, but he’s tossing aside the manga, big and strong hands easily wrapping around your hips to keep you planted on him.

“Don’t leave yet.” He says, stern and flat, but you catch the hint of curiosity swirling deep in his eyes.

The familiar heat of embarrassment is flooding to your face in an instant, and your head hangs low. “S-sorry, Toshi.” You mumble, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Your thighs just looked so big, just wanted to… ride them.”

It’s silent.

You work up the courage to snack a glance at him again, now faced with the sight of his head tilted a bit, as if confused by your confession. “B-but!” You continue, mouth already running off on its own. “Forget it, okay? It might be weird— Toshi..?”

It was just one little flex of his quad, one that had the muscle pushing up against your clit, but the way his name rolled off your tongue sounded sinful. You can feel his grip around your hips tightening a bit, and he’s leaning in to close the gap between the two of you.

“Wouldn’t it feel better like this?”

BOKUTO KOUTAROU.

It started off with an accidental brush of his knee against your cunt.

Bokuto had always been eager with his kisses. He had you pinned down on his mattress, body hovering over yours as he moved his lips against your own— and he hadn’t even noticed anything different until he heard you suddenly moan into his mouth. He’s pulling away the next second, eyes wide as he tries gauging your reaction again, bringing his knee back to rub over your cunt. And … just like clockwork, your eyes clench shut and you choke back a gasp.

He swallows thickly.

Only five minutes later and he’s got you seated on his thigh, moving you back and forth with a needy grunt, his free hand squeezing your cheeks as he forces you to look up at him. “Don’t look away, ‘kay?”

“You look pretty— pretty like that. I just wanna see.”

The look on his face isn’t much different from yours. His mouth is slightly parted in desperate pants, deep red spreading across his cheeks at the sight of you feeling good on his leg. He’s swallowing deeply before he takes in a sharp inhale right after, already pussy drunk and his dick hasn’t even touched you yet.

The way your face starts to contort when you’re rapidly approaching your high has him just hoping he doesn’t end up finishing untouched. It’s throbbing— absolutely aching with need and as soon as you start sobbing his name, he can feel his patience shatter into thin pieces.

You let out a loud yelp as soon as your back hits the mattress, Bokuto looming over you with a strained look on his face as he rushes to line his tip up with your hole. “S-sorry.” His voice is just above a growl. “I can’t help it after all. It’s okay though, right? Gonna make you feel good.”

[luvsupa]

“YOU’RE A STAR!”

tags: musician!choso x manager fem!reader, reader has a secret fan account, both are in 20, choso has lots of tattoos and is an r&b singer, he has piercings, smut (p in v), ōral sex (f!recieving), sub!choso (ish), voyeurism, etc. mdni.

w.c: 3,2k

a/n: YALL I’m almost at 2k LIKE THATS INSANEEEE!! TY GUYS SOSOS MUCHHH AHHH

+ erm if there’s errors lmkk

you sit in choso’s expansive dressing room, surrounded by his makeup and fashion assistants, eyes glued to the big screen as he finishes his final song of the concrrt. the sound of thousands of screaming fans fills the air, their voices blending with his deep, angelic one. even from back here, you can hear the unmistakable roar of the crowd, hanging onto every note he sings. the way he commands the stage, the way he moves—everything about him makes your chest tighten.

he looks unreal tonight, his stylist outdid themselves. the subversive, edgy look suits him perfectly, especially the ripped wife-beater that showcases his inked arms, gleaming under the stage lights. the body glitter you suggested—yeah, that was definitely a good call- catches the light in all the right ways, making him look out of this world.

you’re supposed to be his manager, maintaining some form of professionalism, but damn, it’s impossible when he looks this good. especially when he runs his hand through those messy brown locks , letting a few strands fall over his face. you bite your lip, trying to focus on anything but the way your heart races when he’s on stage.

the thought of professionalism slips even further when you pull out your phone, dimming the brightness low. not for work—no, not tonight. instead, you open the app you use to connect with his fanbase under your secret username.

chogetsmewetter

it still makes you smirk every time you see it. his fans had been relentless, trying to bribe you for the username. but it’s yours, and you're not giving it up for anyone.

chogetsmewetter: are u guys seeing how good he looks… need him immediately

responses flood in almost instantly.

chososwhore: baby, nobody wants him more than i do…

choochoo: y’all send videos of the concert plzzz :(

kamosbaby: my baby daddy lookin good on stage.

you’re too caught up in scrolling through the candid photos and fan reactions, smiling like an idiot, when the makeup assistant catches you off guard.

“what’s got you smiling like that?” she teases, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

you quickly shove your phone into your pocket, plastering on your best fake smile. “just checking cho’s schedule for next week. his brothers want to surprise him at the last show.”

it’s a lie, of course, but you’re used to spinning quick stories, and she just shrugs, moving on. but not without another jab. “girl, you love calling him cho, don’t you? does he let you call him that in bed too?”

your eyes widen as choso’s fashion designer giggles along with her. “guys, nothing’s going on. we’re strictly business—i manage his schedule, and that’s it.” but the words taste bitter, even as you force them out. nothing more. yeah, right.

the deafening cheers from the TV rescue you from any more teasing. all eyes turn to the screen as choso wraps up, thanking the crowd with that deep, velvet voice of his. the camera zooms in on his face, his lips curling into a soft smile as he waves and blows kisses to the adoring fans. gosh, he’s perfect.

a few moments later, the dressing room doors swing open, and there he is. choso, in the flesh, followed by his bodyguards. his team erupts in cheers, swarming him with praise, but you move to the back in the corner, blending into the background. moments like this are too chaotic for you, but you know you’ll have your moment later, probably on the tour bus.

amidst the chaos, his eyes find you, and he frowns a little when he sees you typing away on your phone, oblivious to the world. he doesn't know, of course, that you're replying to posts about him.

before you can finish your latest message, you feel him standing right in front of you, towering over you. the air feels thick between you two, and you curse internally as you slip your phone into your pocket once again, heart racing.

“you forgetting something?” his voice is low, teasing, as he glances down at your hands.

you quickly shake your head, trying to play it cool. “c’mon, cho, you know i’d never survive in that crowd,” you say, nodding toward the gaggle of team still dying for his attention.

his hands, cold from the stage, slide into yours, pulling you just a little closer. you swallow hard. “i knowww, but your support matters the most outta all of ‘em,” he says, rocking slightly, his lips curling into that perfect half-smile. the one that makes your stomach flip.

he smells incredible, the scent of his unreleased cologne wrapping around you, making your head spin. you smile, turning away, but he moves with you, trying to catch a glimpse of that smile.

“c’mon, let’s grab dinner. my director’s waiting,” he says, releasing your hands, and you instantly frown, missing his touch.

you follow him and his bodyguards out, offering a quick farewell to the makeup and fashion team. they don’t miss the chance to wink at you, clearly still enjoying the teasing.

as you near the exit, the noise outside grows louder—fans desperate to catch one last glimpse of choso. this is the part of the night you dread, knowing how insane the crowd can get. but when he looks over his shoulder and gives you that grin, the chaos doesn’t seem so bad.

two guards swing open the doors, harsh light flooding in as flashes from cameras blind you instantly. the screams grow deafening, and you brace yourself. this is always the worst part—being unable to see, disoriented, as the paparazzi go wild trying to capture every inch of choso’s presence.

but choso? he thrives in this. he’s in his element, beaming as he dives straight into the crowd. signing albums, posing for photos, accepting gifts—he eats it all up. you trail behind one of his bodyguards, eyes flickering to where he’s standing. your heart clenches as you catch sight of him—his lips locked with a fan.

you swallow hard. it’s not the first time. he always does this with her—his so-called “number one fan.” he remembers her face, her name, every single time. each time he kisses her in front of his adoring crowd, it feels like a punch to the gut. the fans love it. the media laps it up, turning her into a minor celebrity among his fandom.

how do you know? through your secret fan account.

you scoff quietly to yourself as you slip past the crowf, making it safely onto the tour bus. heading straight for the private area at the back, you drop your bag onto one of the leather couches, sinking into the seat by the window. from here, you can still see him outside, giving the fans hugs, taking endless photos. you watch in silence, jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.

finally, after what feels like forever, choso steps onto the bus, breathless and flushed. he walks down the aisle toward you, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“fuckkk, they’re amazing,” he groans, collapsing onto the couch beside you, still riding the high from the crowd.

they’re amazing? or she’s amazing…

you force a smile, eyes glued to your phone. “you looked like you were having fun, choso,” you mutter, distracted by your personal texts. his head drops back with a groan. one thing he can’t stand is when you don’t give him your full attention.

before he can start whining, one of the fashion designers calls your name from the front of the bus. you sigh, getting up quickly to see what the issue is. in your rush, you leave your phone behind on the couch.

choso watches as you walk away, eyes narrowing when he sees your phone lying there. you never leave it behind, always keeping it close, and curiosity gnaws at him. his leg bounces as he contemplates it. fuck it.

he snatches your phone up, eyes widening as the first thing he sees on your notification center is all he need to see.

[chogetsmewetter] new like from choochoo and 100+ others:

I need to fuck choso nowww, he’s so fuckin hot it’s not fairrr.

damn.

a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face. so that’s why you’ve been acting weird. he sets your phone back down just as he hears your footsteps returning.

you return, completely unaware of what just happened. “choso, they said we can’t leave until another hour—” you start to explain, but he’s not listening. his thoughts are elsewhere, his leg bouncing slightly as he bites the inside of his cheek.

“how do you want me to fuck you?” he suddenly blurts out, his voice low and dark.

your eyes widen, body stiffening as his bold words hit you like a train. you fumble for the curtain, pulling it shut so the driver can’t hear.

“w-what the fuck are you talking about?” you stammer, your breath catching in your throat. his dark brown eyes lock onto yours, unwavering. he doesn’t need to say it—his gaze tells you everything.

he knows.

panic rises inside you as you glance toward your phone and then back to him. he nods slowly, confirming your worst fear. he found out.

“so… are you those shy freaks…” he asks casually, standing up from the couch. his towering frame looms over you, and your world feels like it’s shrinking as he removes his leather jacket, revealing his tattooed, muscular arms.

“y-you wanna do this here? in front of the fans?” you whisper loudly, eyes darting toward the windows that are now covered by the blinds.

he chuckles, low and wicked. “you didn’t seem to care posting your dirty thoughts in front of me.”

and he ate with that one.

just like how he’s now devouring you in the back of the tour bus. you’re nestled on the couch, right in front of the curtains that separate the chaos outside from your little world. choso is on his knees, going at you like a possessed man. your legs are pushed tight against your chest as he laps up your juices, sucking and swallowing your sweet fluids. his cold nose piercing nudges your clit as his tongue thrusts deep inside you at an inhumane speed. any trace of shame has long evaporated, replaced by his loud moans vibrating against your cunt, making your eyes cross slightly.

your hands tangle in his silky brown locks, tugging gently, which earns you a whimper as he pulls back, your essence and saliva coating his chin and glossy lips. “mmm, p-pull on it more, pretty,” he urges, gazing up at you with doe eyes, brows furrowed in concentration as he loses himself in you once again.

obeying him, you tug harder on his hair, bucking your hips against his face while his hands grip the back of your thighs, pushing you deeper into your chest. he’s growling now, lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

“yesss, f-fuck, you’re so goooddd,” you praise, head thrown back as he slurps at your juices like a starving man. he pulls away to admire your twitching hole, his fingers parting your folds wider. he spits a wad of saliva directly into your gaping pussy, making you clench instinctively as he slides in two thick digits, effortlessly gliding through your sloppy walls. his thrusts are calculated as he studies your features, which are now squeezed shut in bliss.

“hmm, she’s fuckin’ wettt,” he comments, your pussy responding with loud, squelching sounds that fill the back of the bus, echoing your mess. “hahh, you put that username to use,” he taunts, your body burning with embarrassment. his thick fingers pick up speed, massaging that sweet spot, and your back arches off the couch, your lower tummy tingling as your breath quickens.

choso can sense you’re close, the way you tighten around him. suddenly, he sucks hard on your clit, swirling his tongue around your poor nub. you cover your mouth with your hands, muffling the moans that threaten to escape .

just before you can cry out his name, he pulls his fingers out, leaving you undone. he retreats from your soaked clit, watching your translucent essence dribble down your convulsing hole, spilling onto the couch. your breath hitches as he delivers a sharp slap to your pussy, jolting electricity through your body, and the sticky remnants of your orgasm cling to his palm, igniting an insatiable addiction to your sensitivity.

“nahhh, is this the wettest you can get?” he says, rising from his knees and unzipping his jeans, pulling his throbbing cock free from its confines. your mind goes blank at the sight. fuck, he definitely never lied about his size, especially in his songs. choso sits beside you, manhandling you onto his lap, your pussy pressing against his hard cock as you whimper,

this is really happening.

“ride me, darling—use me all you want.” he states, and it feels like you’re living out your dirtiest dream, because yu are. he leaves trails of kisses along the side of your neck, his glossy lips—coated in your cum—smudging against your skin. you stare down at his shaft, his leaky tip begging to be touched. raising your hips, you grab the base of his cock, making him wince as you align his rosy tip with your drooling entrance. his crownhead stretches you open, and you whimper at how big he is with each inch you take. your velvety walls accommodate his size, practically expanding as he settles into your pussy.

without warning, choso grips your hips, slamming you down against him. you wail as every inch of his cock plunges deep inside your walls, and he moans at how tight you are around him. “f-fuck, baby, takin’ so fuckin’ l-long,” he says impatiently, thrusting up into you as each movement leaves you more dazed and breathless.

with newfound courage, your hips immediately fuck back into his, faster than his sloppy thrusts, making his eyes roll back in pleasure. your grinding drives him wild, your pussy gripping him like it’s life or death. choso’s head falls back, broken moans slipping past his lips, his adam’s apple bobbing as he struggles to hold back even more sounds of ecstasy.

you can feel the heat building between you, his cock stretching you further with each thrust. you grind down harder, relishing the way his body responds, each movement causing him to whimper and squirm beneath you. his hands grip your waist, guiding you, but you can tell he’s losing himself in the sensation, growing more ditzy with every upward thrust.

“c’mon, baby, ride me h-harder,” he begs, voice thick with desperation. his eyes fluttering as he’s moaning loudly. it’s intoxicating, watching him come undone because of you. you match your pace to the rhythm of his moans, your slickness coating him more with each thrust. the sound of your bodies slapping together drowns out the cheers of the fans outside, your pussy so noisy it’s almost too loud for your own liking.

“mmm, keep your eyes on me, pretty boy,” you purr, brushing your fingertips through his hair, tugging a big- earning a whimper at the pet name. you can see the way he bites his lip, trying to hold back more moans, but you know he won’t last long.

“hgn, you think jus’ cause you’re on top ‘m your bitch?” he groans, the tension between you two thcick. his gaze is wild, pupils dilated, and it only drives you further as you increase your pace, your hips slamming hard against his thighs, coating his throbbing base with your slickness. you giggle as he pathetically moans out, hands gripping your flesh tighter as you grind harder. his chubby tip sloppily kisses your cervix, sending shockwaves through your body as it begins to shake.

the way he reacts to every thrust, every grinding motion sends a thrill down your spine. he’s completely lost in you, his breathing ragged and unsteady. “y-you feel so good,” he stammers, voice breaking as he struggles to keep his focus, each word laced with pleasure. you smirk, feeling powerful, proud at the control you have over him.

“mhmm, ‘m starting to think y’er all talk, cho. you’re not showing me how you’d fuck me,” you taunt, leaning in his ear and tugging on his ear piercings, making him shudder at your seductive voice.

your words truly did something to him, awakening something much darker within. without hesitation, he carelessly picks you up, sliding his cock out of your hole as he slams you against the table adjacent to the couch. bending you over, he realigns himself with your hypnotizing cunt, the air thick with the heat of your lust. choso slams his entire length into your pussy, the sound of slickness echoing in the cramped space as your body squelches loudly, both of you moaning in unison. he grips your hips tightly, pounding mercilessly into you, each thrust sending shockwaves through your body as you cry out, not caring if the bus driver or any staff hears your cries of pleasure.

“cunt so good,” he growls, feeling you clamp down hard on his girthy length. his moan resonates deep within your core as he swats your ass, the sound of skin meeting skin sending electric jolts through you. he feels like he’s deep in your guts, rearranging everything inside you, each thrust making your pussy squelch obscenely. it’s so loud that it drowns out any sounds from outside, the wet slaps of your bodies merging into a symphony of lust. you’re practically squeaking like a damn mouse with every thrust, your body unable to contain the pleasure coursing through you.

without warning, he grips your hair and pulls you up against him, his mouth brushing against your ear as he whispers, “take it all, mama. you can take it.” his words send a shiver down your spine, the duality of his sweet yet dominating tone intensifying your arousal. you nod, feeling yourself surrender completely to him, wanting nothing more than to be his.

“m-more cho’ ,” you whine, and he responds with a primal growl, his hips slamming into yours harder, faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. his movements are relentless, each thrust a story to his desire, his need for you. you can feel the tension coiling tighter within you, the pressure building to a breaking point.

but then, in the midst of your euphoric bliss, you slowly open your eyes, and your jaw drops in shock. he placed you directly in front of the window, where all the fans are just outside, oblivious to the scandalous scene unfolding inside. the reality of the moment crashes over you, and you gasp, suddenly aware of the possibility of being seen.

“c-cho… the—fuckk—the fans,” you manage to warn, your entire body jolting with his relentless thrusts, each one motivating him to go even faster, to claim you harder.

“nahh, now you wanna back out?” he snarls through gritted teeth, going absolutely feral. his grip tightens as he reaches to grab the back of your hair, pulling you flush against his chest, forcing you to take him deeper. the blinds rattle as he yanks them open wider, letting in more light for the fans to see everything happening inside. the flashes from paparazzi cameras blind your vision as they snap multiple shots of your fucked out expression, choso grinning behind like a devil at each click.

“say cheese, pretty. you’re gonna be a star,”

[frflyavenue]

Exam Stress - Matz ver.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Matz x Stressed!Uni student!Reader

Warnings: MDNI (18+) — Stressed reader, sleep deprived reader, university exam season, crying, eating, fluff and smut, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving, m receiving, f giving), vaginal sex, spit-roast, threesome smut, slight power dynamic, soft dom!Hongjoong, switch!Seonghwa, lots of praise

Author’s Note: Giving you guys this update early as compensation for not posting anything on Tuesday—First time writing smut, so let me know what you guys think! UYT chapter 3 still on track to be updated tomorrow <3

WC: 5.1k

School sucks. You’re a great student, one of the best performing in your major, and, according to your boyfriends, the hardest working person they’ve ever seen. You’re positive they’re just gassing you up because they love you, but you’re happy that your work is at least recognized. But it’s getting towards the end of the semester, meaning the whole University is filled with students working overtime. Exams are just around the corner, major essays and projects are being finalized and the party hubs of the city have died down as students rush to get their grades up enough to pass. You’re doing well in your classes, of course, but the end of the semester is always a rough time.

You’ve been working non-stop for the last few weeks, studying for your exams and trying desperately to finish your thesis paper for one of your classes. You lost count of how many hours you’ve worked in the library over the last few days, staying until they close around midnight and going home just to keep working. And while you’ve been able to handle the stress and exhaustion, today it all seemed to come to a head.

You haven’t slept more than a total of 10 hours the last four days, and you haven’t eaten nearly enough to sustain yourself. But honestly, the hormones from the stress were enough to suppress your hunger, so you didn’t pay it much attention. You’re exhausted, honestly, yearning to lay down in bed or even just curl up and sleep on the floor of the library, desperate for rest. But you don’t have time. You huff, slamming your laptop shut, earning a few glances from the other students working the library. You don’t dare look at them, stuffing your laptop in your bag with a sigh. You snatch it up and turn to leave, completely silent as you drive yourself to your apartment.

You fumble with your keys lazily as you try to open the door, finally sighing as it squeaks open. You slip into the apartment, taking off your shoes at the door and heading to the bedroom you share with your two boyfriends. Seonghwa, hearing you, turns around with a warm smile to greet you.

”Hey darling, welcome home. We missed you.”

You look up at him, but the second you see his warm expression, you feel your throat tighten, so you quickly look away. “Ah, yeah, I missed you guys too.” You clear your throat. “I have to work on my paper, so I’m gonna go work for a bit.” You don’t wait for him to respond to walk away to the solace of your bedroom.

Seonghwa walks with his mouth slightly agape as you turn your back to him, not able to say anything. Almost immediately after he gathers his thoughts, he rushes over to the living room, where Hongjoong is splayed out on the couch working on a song. He gently tap his shoulder, and Hongjoong removes one side of the headphones to hear.

”Joongie… I think something’s wrong with our Y/N.” He says worriedly, and Hongjoong snaps his eyes up from the screen to look at him.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Seonghwa runs his hand through his hair, clearly worried. “She came in so quiet, and her face seemed so tired… she hardly acknowledged me when she walked in.”

Hongjoong’s expression grows thoughtful, his eyebrows scrunching slightly. Your recent stress hasn’t gone unnoticed by your two boyfriends for the last few weeks. They’ve watched your eyes grow more and more tired every passing day, and while they’ve tried their best to bring you little snacks or cheer you up with little kisses to your temple when you’ve been working for a while, they’ve mostly let you to your work, not wanting to disturb you. But for Seonghwa to be this concerned now… Hongjoong trusts his boyfriend in thinking that something’s wrong. “Okay… why don’t you go talk to her, hm? I don’t want to overwhelm her with both of us, but I want to check on her.”

Seonghwa hesitantly nods, and Hongjoong presses a comforting kiss to his forehead before letting him go visit you.

You hardly register the knock at the door until it creaks open, and you freeze up, looking over at him with wide, guilty eyes. There are tears streaming down your face, your nose running and your sleeves wet from wiping your eyes. Seeing him, with his beautiful, elegant face twisted in concern taking in the sight of you, you only feel worse. You turn away, desperately attempting to dry your tears as he approaches. You hiccup helplessly as he turns the office chair around so you’re facing him, optnig to hide your face in your hands.

Seonghwa steps closer so he’s standing between your legs, gently pulling you into him. You let your face, still covered by your hands, lean into his stomach, feeling one hand resting protectively on your back while the other rests on the back of your head, his thumb rubbing comforting cicely into your hair. Almost immediately, you let go to wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face deeper into his tummy and sobbing against his hoodie.

Seonghwa feels himself tear up at the sound, his voice softly shushing you while he cradles your head against his body. He doesn’t move, holding you just like that, not planning to ever let you go.

Hongjoong, hearing the gut-wrenching sound from the other room, sneaks into the room, standing behind Seonghwa and rubbing his back. The taller man is blinking back tears, his hands holding you close to him as you let out pitiful sobs of frustration and exhaustion, sounds he’s never heard from you in the two years you all had been dating. Hongjoong, too, feels his throat tighten, distracting himself by silently comforting Seonghwa in the meantime. The three of you remain like until the sound of sobs dies down to sniffles, and Hongjoong moves to kneel next to your chair. He places a hand on your thigh, gently rubbing there.

”Hey, beautiful.” He whispers softly, gently easing your hands down for you to look at him. You do, your swollen eyes meeting his. “Hey… there she is…” His voice is soft and quiet, almost as if he’s talking to a kitten. You're grateful for it, the sound not overwhelming your mind.

You snuffle, leaning into his hand when he moves to cup your cheek. “I-I’m sorry…” you squeak out, and he immediately shakes his head, shushing you.

“No, no ‘sorry’. I can speak for both of us when I say that Seonghwa and I want you to be happy. But part of that means taking care of you when you’re sad, hm?” He just watches you for a moment, gently holding your face in his hands as he kneels in front of you. “…What’s the matter babydoll?”

You close your eyes and try to clear your blurry eyes, opening them again to look down at his loving face. “I… I just got frustrated.” You explain, your voice wobbling pitifully. “I’m so tired, and I have so much to do. But I feel stuck on this stupid paper, and I have to finish it, and…” You trail off, your throat burning as tears slip silently down your delicate cheeks and onto Hongjoong’s delicate hands.

Hongjoong nods, gently wiping the little drops of water away with his thumb, not breaking his gaze. “It’s okay, we’ve got you now. We’re going to go take a break, baby.”

You open your mouth to refuse, but Seonghwa shushes you before you can say anything. “No, no, he’s right Y/N. You need to eat and take a break, or you wont be able to get anything done anyways.” He pauses. “My mom always used to tell me that productivity is subjective. Sometimes, the most productive thing you can do is take a break, eat some good food, and get some sleep. Right now, that’s exactly what would be most productive to you, understand?” His voice is gentle but firm, and his tone gives you no choice but to tentatively agree.

Hongjoong smiles proudly up at Seonghwa, dropping his hands from your face and standing up, offering his hand to you. You take it, letting him pull you up. You sigh longingly as Hongjoong closes your laptop shut, and Seonghwa places a guiding hand on your back as he walks you three to the living room.

While it pains you to step away from your work, you immediately feel relieved as Seonghwa pulls you with him onto the couch, instinctively finding your position on his chest as he lay down with his head resting on the cushy armrest. His hand tangles in your hair, the other rubbing your back up and down in slow, repetitive motions. The steady thumping of heart under your cheek is enough to make you come undone, and your shoulders relax.

Smiling fondly at the sight, Hongjoong sits next to your tangled bodies, opening his phone. “We’re ordering in tonight. What are you feeling, pretty girl?”

The corners of your lips twitch up, though you don’t bother to open your blissfully closed eyes. “Pasta?” You respond, the thought of noodles making your mouth water.

Hongjoong laughs and pats your butt affectionately, ordering you guys a few of your favorite pasta dishes to share.

In the meantime, Seonghwa struggles with the remote, trying to put on a cute animated movie to cheer you up. Finally figuring out what buttons to press, he finds a selection of studio ghibli movies and let you take your pick. Hongjoong calls in to order the food while the two of your start the movie, and as soon as he’s done, he walks back over to the couch. You turn around so you’re laying on your back against Seonghwa’s chest, his arms wrapping around your waist while you reach your arms out to Hongjoong. He smiles brightly before climbing into your arms, laying with his head resting on the soft pillows on your chest and his arms joining Seonghwa’s around your waist. Content to be between both of them, you sigh.

It’s the best you’ve felt in weeks. Seonghwa’s chest rising and falling steadily against your back, Hongjoong snuggled up close to you, letting you tangle your fingers in his hair, the soft strings of the ghibli movie—it was perfect. When you drift off, hands resting limp and calm against Hongjoong’s back and hair and head resting comfortably back against Seonghwa’s happily beating heart… your boys can’t help but feel the same.

NSFW content following the cut ———

You awake groggily at the sudden loss of the comfortable weight on your chest, grumbling at the cold air hitting your front. You open your eyes, Seonghwa giggling lovingly at your state from behind you and Hongjoong nowhere to be seen. You pout, looking around.

”He’s getting our food.” Seonghwa explains softly, his voice hardly above a whisper. You nod, not bothering to move as you hear Hongjoong open the front door and thank the delivery person. He returns with a slight grin, holding up the bag of food victoriously.

You smile, sitting up and moving to get up off the couch. Seonghwa clicks his tongue in dissatisfaction, pulling you back to stay. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You giggle, wriggling weakly in his grasp. “To the table? To go eat dinner?” You respond, your voice already containing more of it’s usual happiness.

Hongjoong laughs and shakes his head, his eyes making pretty crescents. “No, silly, we’re gonna eat in the living room today. It’s treat.”

You gasp, turning to look at Seonghwa. Usually, he’s the one scolding you and Hongjoong about your cleaning and organizational habits, always keeping you both in check. So for him to be letting you eat in the living room…

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, but his grin never leaves his face as he gently lest go and helps Hongjoong unpack the food onto the coffee table. You gasp excitedly, sitting crisscrossed on the floor in front of the couch. Seonghwa ruffles your hair before going to making the three of you bowls of pasta.

The food is delicious, of course. You hum with satisfaction, not remembering the last time you ate a proper meal. Sure, pasta isn’t the healthiest meal, but it sure does hit the spot after not eating anything but protein snacks and the random fruits your concerned boyfriends brought you every once and a while. They seem to notice, not taking their eyes off you as you go silent to eat, eagerly slurping up pasta. Proud to see you feeling better, they also find that the food is especially good—maybe just because you look so happy eating it.

You listen intently as Hongjoong talks about the songs he’s working on, never having felt so happy just to hear him ramble as you are now. Seonghwa is silent, too focused on his food, but he occasionally bumps your shoulders with his legs, still sitting on the couch as you sit on the floor between his legs. It’s been so long since you’ve all gotten to just sit and eat together, between the weird schedule of your classes and studying for finals, Hongjoong’s production, and both of the boys' dance practices. Looking at Hongjoong’s happy face and gently rubbing Seonghwas calf as it cages protectively around your form, you feel yourself tearing up.

”I missed you guys.” You whisper in a beat of silence, taking another bite of pasta to counteract the sentimental tears forming. Hongjoong looks up at you, giving you a delicate smile. Seonghwa sets his bowl down, gently massaging your shoulders as he, also, tries not to cry, not wanting to make you upset.

”We missed you too, babydoll.” Hongjoong replies, and Seonghwa squeezes your shoulder as well in emphasis. He looks thoughtful for a moment, before clearing his throat and setting his bowl down. “Y/N?”

You look up, swallowing your big bite of pasta before responding. “Hm?”

Hongjoong laughs softly, before shaking his head and scooting closer to you, gently taking your hand and holding it in his lap. “Hwa and I love you so much. We never ever want to see you so stressed, yeah? We understand that you have a lot to do—we’re in a similar position a lot of the time. But… just like how you make sure to take care of us when we’re feeling overwhelmed, we want to take care of you too.”

You blink, taken off guard by his sudden seriousness. Senoghwa gently reaches around to tuck your hair back behind your ear. “He’s right. It’s okay to get frustrated, stressed, tired… even just sad. But it’s not okay to completely isolate yourself from everyone around you and push yourself past what your body and mind can handle.” He adds, gently combing through your hair with his fingers. He’s right, you realize. Unknowingly, you had been avoiding your friends and even your two beloved boyfriends, hiding in the library to avoid coming home and staying cooped up in your bedroom at every opportunity under the pretense of discipline. Seonghwa’s words from earlier echo in your mind. Productivity is subjective… Sometimes, the most productive thing you can do is take a break…

You nod slowly, setting your own bowl down. “Yeah… you guys are right,” you admit with a slight look of guilt. “I’ve probably been stressing myself out more than necessary because I’ve been getting so frustrated.” You explain, earning a nod from Hongjoong. You continue. “And… I promise from now on, I’ll rely a little more on you guys. I’m sorry for worrying you.” You meet Hongjoong’s eyes and gently squeeze Seonghwa’s calf, and they coo.

”Such a sweet thing…” Seonghwa praises, squishing your cheek even from his odd position behind you. You blush, suddenly shy, and Hongjoong laughs, lightly hitting Seonghwa’s thigh. The three of you go quiet for a minute, the air lighter.

Interrupting the silence, Hongjoong clears his throat, looking up at you. “Y/N?”

You nod, giggling at his tone. “What? You’ve said my name like that twice already, it’s so cute~”

Hongjoong scoffs and nearly argues, but his blush creeps up his face before he can rebut. He shakes his head. “I’m being serious here!”

You and Seonghwa laugh, but you quickly shake your head and squeeze his shoulder. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead, honey.”

He blushes at the nickname, his personal favorite from you, and clears his throat again. “Well, Hwa and I were talking while you napped, and we wanted to ask if you’d like to let us take care of your stress for you tonight? You know, help you relax a bit..?”

You smile, shaking your head innocently. “No, I’m sorry. There’s not really much you guys can do, my paper is built off of research I’ve been doing all semester. I appreciate the offer, of course, but I should really just write it on my own.”

Hongjoong blinks. He’s known you for a long time, but he will never not be astounded by how your sweet, dense brain works. He laughs in shock. “Hah… geez, Y/N… for somebody so smart, you sure are slow.” He says, and Seonghwa coughs back a laugh before pretending to scold him. You tilt your head.

”Uh… sorry?”

Hongjoong shakes your head, and Seonghwa moves to sit on the floor with you guys, feeling awkward not being able to see your face.

“No, not like that my dear.” He explains. He gently takes your hand and presses it to his lips. “We want to take you to bed, our love. It’s been a while since we could take care of you, hm?”

Your face heats up immediately. Seonghwa has always been the best of you three at initiating this kind of intimate affection, so it shouldn’t come at any surprise. But even after sleeping with your boyfriends hundreds of times… they only get sexier You subconsciously press your thighs together.

Seonghwa just chuckles at your cute reaction, standing up and grabbing the trash from your dinner. “Think it over while I clean dinner up, hm?”

You watch with your mouth slightly agape as he takes the trash to the bin in the kitchen, stunned silent. You turn to look at Hongjoong, who tucks your hair back affectionately.

”Kiss me?” You whisper suddenly, looking up at him shyly through your eyelashes.

Hongjoong smiles softly at your request, cupping your jaw and tilting your head up so he can access your lips. He kisses you softly, his plush lips molding naturally against yours. He turns his head to the side after just a moment, gently licking at your bottom lip, and you part your lips to grant him access. He eagerly intrudes your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours. His hand slowly comes up to rest on your waist, his thumb slipping under the hem of your shirt and rubbing easy circles over the smooth, delicate skin there. You hum into his mouth and rest your hands on his shoulders for support, desperate to taste more. It’s been a long time, you realize, since you’ve done anything like this with your boyfriends. You’ve missed it.

Seonghwa returns, raising an eyebrow at the sight and sitting on the side of the couch, opting to just watch for a little while. He knows he’ll get his turn.

Sure enough, Hongjoong pulls away just for a moment at seeing Seonghwa sit down, leaving you whining. He clicks his tongue.

”Tsk tsk… patience babydoll. Lie down on the couch for me, hm?”

You nod and quickly position yourself comfortably on the couch, happy when Hongjoong climbs over top of you and continues kissing you. To your dismay, he refuses giving you entrance back into his mouth, instead moving to press slow, open mouthed kisses down your jaw. You breathe heavier at the sensation, letting out shameless little gasps and whimpers when he nips sensitive parts of your neck. Almost too swift to notice, Hongjoong slides his hands up under your shirt, pulling it up over your head in one smooth motion before crawling downward to kiss your collarbone, lingering around the straps of your bra. Just before you feel yourself growing impatient, he unclips the fabric barrier as if reading your thoughts, gently sliding it down your shoulders to reveal your soft breasts.

He exhales in wonder at the beautiful sight, reaching one hand up to gently palm at the flesh there. “God, baby… how could I have ever forgotten how much I missed these pretty things, hm?”

You blush shyly at his praises, his tone of voice one that always gets you in a space ready and wanting to please. You arch your back impatiently, the cold air leaving you desperate for their touch. Hongjoong smiles, letting you get away with it for now and leaning down to gently take the soft flesh of your breast into his mouth.

You gasp slightly as his tongue caresses the bud of your breast, comforted with the feeling of his mouth tenderly kissing the plush skin there. You pet his hair in return, and Seonghwa reaches a hand up to rub Hongjoongs back encouragingly, fond of watching his lovers feeling good.

After a few minutes of getting you slowly more and more needy from Hongjoongs touches, Seonghwa finally moves to tug at the waist of your pants, easing them down your thighs and folding them neatly on the other side of the couch. He repositions himself to be propped on his elbows between your thighs, and you shiver when you recognize the position. His breath brushes against the heat between your thighs as he leans forward, turning his head to suck at the skin of you plush thighs. He gently kneads the soft flesh under his hands, slowly easing your thighs further apart as he inches up closer to where you need him. You roll your hips forward, desperate.

Seonghwa smiles, finally leaning forward and licking a fat stripe from your leaking entrance up to your clit, stopping there to suck on the bundle of nerves there. You gasp at the sudden stimulation, arching your back into his tongue and earning a delicious hum from him. “God, you taste so good…” Seonghwa moans into your dripping folds. He rolls his tongue expertly over the now erect bud while Hongjoong switches to sucking small marks into your collarbone, the combination sending you reeling.

When Seonghwa suddenly slides two fingers inside of you, you finally let out a full moan, earning a smile from both men. Hwa’s fingertips brush against the perfect spot inside, and combined with his tongue messily lapping up your juices and Hongjoongs attention back on your breasts, you nearly cum on the spot.

Hongjoong places a hand on Seonghwa’s head, signaling for him to stop.

You pant as you come down from the edge. “I want more,” you manage to get out in between breaths, looking up at Hongjoong.

He chuckles. “Such a needy little thing, hm?” You pout, and he giggles, finding you cute. “Bend over the side of the couch.” Seonghwa glances over at him with surprise at his suddenly domineering tone. Hongjoong just shrugs. “If our baby wants it so bad, then let’s give it to her. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how naughty our girl is, hm?”

Seonghwa glances over at you with concern, wanting to make sure it’s really what you want. He doesn’t have to worry for long, though, since you’re already scrambling to bend over with your elbows propped up on the armrest of the couch. He lets out a surprised laugh. “God, Joong. Maybe I did forget.”

Hongjoong smirks, his adoring eyes raking over your submissive position. “Seonghwa, tell me baby, do you want her pussy or her mouth? You get first pick today.”

The pretty man needs no time to decide. “Can I please get her pussy today, Joongie?”

Hongjoong nods and presses a sweet kiss to Seonghwa’s cheek. “Of course you can, love. Thank you for asking so nicely.”

While you can’t see them talking behind you in your current position, the way they talk to each other alone makes you blush. The three of you all love each other so much, there’s no doubt about it. And even when Hongjoong takes over a more dominant role, he’s never really mean, making sure his partners know that his priority is always taking care of them. You smile softly, in your thoughts, when you feel Seonghwa climb on the couch behind you.

You grip the arm of the couch in anticipation. Seonghwa presses the head of his dick against your folds, rubbing it along your clit and spreading your love juices around. You drop your head at the feeling, biting back a moan. When he finally slides in, though, you can’t help but groan out his name, pushing your hips back against him until he’s fully seated inside of you.

Hongjoong hums in satisfaction as he watches, reaching to rub comforting circles on the smooth skin of your back. “Deep breaths, baby. Does it feel good?”

You nod immediately, a little too eager. “Y-yes…” You hiss.

Hongjoong chuckles. “Good girl. Seonghwa, baby, don’t move until I tell you to.” Seonghwa groans but agrees nonetheless. Hongjoong walks around to the side of the couch where you’re facing, cupping your jaw. “Stick out your pretty tongue for me.”

You obey, parting your lips quickly and letting your tongue drop out for him, too far gone to be embarrassed about how much saliva you’re producing. He bites his lip, stroking his fully erect length in front of your face, giving you the most perfect view. When he finally rubs the bulbous head of his pretty cock against your tongue, you hum. He doesn’t do much more for a while, leaving both you and Seonghwa, who is essentially just being cockwarmed, impatient. But just before you lose your composure and ask hm outright to just fuck your throat, he finally slides his length into your mouth.

You eagerly wrap your lips around him, tightening them expertly and sliding your tongue over the underside of his pretty length, making him roll his eyes back.

“Hon- ah god… you’re so good, baby. So perfect-“ He pants, placing a hand on the back of your head and bottoming out in your throat. While he isn’t quite as long as Seonghwa, you’ve always thought that his dick fits perfectly in your mouth. Just enough to make you feel full without causing any painful gagging. You hum around him, and he finally breaks. “Oh god- Hwa, baby, move… I don’t know how long I can last…”

Seonghwa doesn’t have to be asked twice. Without warning, he starts thrusting in and out of you firmly, holding onto your waist for support. You gasp, not caring about volume anymore as he pounds into you, each thrust calculated and firm. Hongjoong can feel you rocking from Seonghwa’s relentless pace, and he lets out a low groan, holding tightly onto a fistful of your hair. “Babydoll, can I fuck your throat? P-please?”

You blink up at him expectantly in response, and he tilts his head back as he finally slides slowly in and out of your mouth.

Hongjoong slowly begins to fuck your mouth, savoring every inch as he watches your throat stretch around him. His hand remains steady on the back of your head, but he never pushes further than you can take—he knows your limits too well. Your eyes water slightly from the fullness, but the way both your boyfriends are moaning, praising you, touching you, has your arousal spiking all over again.

Behind you, Seonghwa is groaning softly under his breath, his thrusts now faster, deeper, his hips snapping into yours with growing desperation. “Fuck, you feel so good, love,” he pants, leaning forward to press kisses to your spine as he grinds into that sweet spot that makes your whole body shiver. His fingers tighten on your waist, and you can feel how close he is by the way his movements get a little sloppier.

“God, she’s dripping, Hwa,” Hongjoong murmurs with a breathless laugh, hips stuttering forward as you suck him harder, slurping around his cock like it’s the only thing you need. “Our baby’s soaking you.”

Seonghwa lets out a shaky whine, the sound sending heat straight to your core. “I—fuck, Joongie, I’m gonna—”

“Not yet,” Hongjoong growls through his teeth, voice tight with restraint. “Wait for her. Baby,” he coos down to you, pulling slowly out of your mouth with a wet pop. “Do you wanna cum?”

You nod frantically, voice hoarse with need. “P-please—I’m so close…”

“Then do it,” Seonghwa chokes out, slamming into you just right as he reaches around to rub quick circles on your clit. “Cum for us, baby. Let us feel you.”

It takes nothing more. Your orgasm crashes over you, thighs shaking as you scream out their names, walls clenching around Seonghwa’s cock in desperate pulses. He gasps, loud and broken, and finally lets go, spilling inside you with a deep, satisfied groan, hips grinding into you to ride it out. His head drops between your shoulder blades, breath hot and fast.

The sight of his two lovers feeling so good is enough for Hongjoong. He jerks himself off over your tongue, the pace of his fist desperate and sloppy. He jerks forward, trembling as he cums in front of you, thick spurts of release painting your tongue. You swallow up every drop on instinct, humming softly as he pants and wipes the corner of your lips with his thumb, utterly dazed.

For a long moment, all that fills the room is the sound of your shared, panting breaths. Seonghwa slowly pulls out, careful not to hurt you, and places a tender kiss to the curve of your lower back before helping you back onto the couch properly.

You collapse back onto Seonghwa chest, arms wide open for Hongjoong as he makes his way back around to the seat of the couch.

“Holy shit,” you mutter with a breathless laugh as Hongjoong climbs in next to the two of you, placing a loving hand on your thigh.

Hongjoong kisses your forehead, smiling contentedly. “We’ve really missed this.”

Seonghwa hums his agreement against your shoulder, holding you tighter.

You smile, eyes fluttering closed as exhaustion finally catches up with you. “Me too,” you whisper, yawning. Wrapped between your two lovers, bodies warm and sticky and pressed together, it’s hard not to feel sleepy.

The two men notice with fond expressions, glancing at each other.

Seonghwa kisss your cheek. “Alright, love, let’s go get you cleaned up. Something tells me it’s bedtime.”

You let out a breathy laugh, nodding.

“I love you guys.”

[keferon]

Ahhhhhhhhh! The TF mecha Deadlock and human Ratchet drawing! I just saw it before sending this. His squishy! But yeeee! Continuing from the last one I wrote. Just pulled ideas from other posts you and others have done in this TF mecha universe. This is fun! :P

****

Ratchet's living quarters is much like the hanger where his lab is. An open area with some dividers up to make separate rooms. Scaffolding and catwalks line the wall and stairs are at each corner of the hanger. The interior is smaller when compared to the lab but the ceiling is much taller, allowing Deadlock the ability to sit up right comfortably. It looks like a little maze to Deadlock who can look down from above. Out of the five rooms in this hanger turned living quarters, Deadlock can't see into three of them. Ratchet's berthroom, the kitchen, and washrack all have ceilings to them. Ratchet's office is connected to the sitting area. Being the largest area in the hanger Deadlock has taken over the sitting area to recharge and heal in. Being the Chief Engineer no one has questioned Ratchet for having Deadlock in his hanger because Ratchet always takes work home with him. Also don't question Ratchet.

A click from the main entrance door has Deadlock stir from his recharge. Old instincts and habits have made him a light recharger. He opens one optic, a red glow fills the room. Blinding bright and staticky at first but dims and clears as his visual boots up. He see Ratchet opening the tiny entryway to slip out. He rumbles knowing it is way to early for Ratchet to head back to his lab. Ratchet had maybe, at most, gotten two hours of recharge. Deadlock gives a rumble/grunt again, this time it sounds more like a wheeze as he starts to shift to grab his little squishy who has already opened the door and stepped half way out. He is using the door to make himself unsnatchable not without breaking the thin metal.

Number one rule while in Ratchet's domain: Don't break Ratchet's things, he NEEDS them. The objects Ratchet chuck do not/can not hurt him. The disappointment and tired frustration however does hit something deep in his war worn spark. "Power back down kid. Just leaving for an emergency meeting. When I get back I'll check your intakes and engine. It's rattling and straining hard again." Ratchet says in a deep rougher voice used only when he wakes from recharge. The door click behind the human not giving him time to reply in his drowsy state. He rubs his fresh welded wounds and with a unhappy grunt curls loosely back around what Ratchet calls a lazy-e-boy chair and entertainment center.

ALL DAY! All day Ratchet has been gone. Deadlock should be use to Ratchet's long work days. But Ratchet didn't fuel before he left, he hasn't recharged in a long while. Two hours is not a recharge. Not for him, not for Ratchet. He is worried, it oozes out and around him from his EM Field like a shadowy murky cloak. His audial fins are pinned down and back as far as they can go. Ratchet looks so worn down. Overworked and shoulders heavy with responsibly the Cybertonian knows the bioengineer should not have to bare. The tv is on to use as a distraction but it no more then background noise as his proccesor runs through scenarios of what could be keeping Ratchet this time.

The door lock clicks and Deadlock instantly perks up. His EM Field fizzles away from gloomy to a more warm and bright mood. "Ratch-" He stops immediately when Ratchet comes through the door. Deadlock rakes his claws into the concrete floor and his field starts boiling with the energon in his lines. Ratchet is bruised and bleeding. The humans forehelm and knuckes are covered with fresh and dried blood. His glare intensifies as Ratchet closes the door and slumps against it with a grumble. Ratchet grunts as he takes off his shoes and dirty jacket. Deadlock's helm is filled with static and his spark heavy and spinning way to fast. He can taste energon on his glossa thanks to his fangs. Rage is not what is taking over his sensors and proccesor. Something more like a deeply rooted need, something instinctually feral burns hot in his frame. "WHO'D DARE-" Ratchet holds up a hand and makes a hushing noise, Deadlock snarls engine rattling harder to keep up with his burst of energy and restrained energon lust. His limbs shaking with just as much restraint. The only thing keeping him from ripping the hanger down is Ratchet's hunched form at the entry way. When Ratchet looks up at Deadlock his jaw snaps shut, denta slamming hard against each other with a harsh clank. The fragger looks amused! Tired, frustrated, and hurting but Deadlock knows that look. Those lips are ever so slightly turned up into an amused smirk, "R a t c h e t." Deadlock hisses out passed his denta audial fins pinned back.

"Relax, before you blow a fuse. You should see the other guy. These are just scratches Drift." The fragger chuckles wiping some blood from his lip with his thumb. That does something to Deadlock that he will not acknowledge right now. His spark flutters and pulses harder, EM Field a confusing mix of emotions that Ratchet can't feel, "I had a disagreement with some of the others in command while another sister base visited. I am fine. Been in more then one scrapping in my time." Ratchet hums as he limps into his office, Deadlock claws at the floor again. "I did not party and study my whole younger life away just to get my PhD in biomedical engineering and be told how to do my job. I may have got a tad heated." He chuckles again at Deadlocks snort/huff.

Deadlock relaxes slightly as Ratchet pulls out a medical kit. His systems are running hot and HUB flashing warnings at him do as Ratchet suggested. He relaxes slightly and presses his servo against his helm. "Frag doc starting fights for a disagreement?" He rasps out watching Ratchet closely while he steadies his intakes. The human carefully works on cleaning the blood stained knuckles, Deadlock takes some pleaser in knowing all that blood is not just Ratchet's. "You're just as much of a hot menace as me."

"For you." Ratchet mumbles as he gently rubs ointment on the cuts. "They wanted me to turn you over to the field officer. Told them that you are still a work in progress that needs more time. That you came to my lab mmm.." Ratchet realizes it's the next day, a whole day wasted arguing in a concert room with metal chairs. With stuck up, pathetic excesses for- "Two days ago now.. said I activated some guardian protocal that day by accident which what brought you looking for me. They think you are imprinted on me. Something like that." Ratchet winces as he wraps his most bruised and swollen hand. A whine leaves Deadlock's stuttering engine, the tip of his pointer digit's claw has been hovers over Ratchet's helm as the doc talked, "What is it Drift?" Ratchet pauses from reaching for the alcohol soaked cotten ball. He looking up into overly bright, almost white with worry optics. Ratchet's optics dart around looking over Deadlock's form and healing welds.

Deadlock wants to huff, to roll his optics at the bioengineer's worry for him. But he can't stop his spark and fuel tanks from turning while he watches the red liquid drip down Ratchet's forehelm and optic ridge. "I... can't help you. You are hurt.. cause of me... and I can only watch you patch yourself up." He admits dimming his optics and looking down. All of this because he got impatient and hunted down his squishy to get him to recharge for once.

Ratchet's optics soften slightly. He shuts the kit with a sharp snap and huffs as he straightens from being hunched over. "Hand down please." Deadlock's audial fins perk up at the request. He carefully and gently, as gently as he can, places two digits into the office room. He lifts Ratchet up slowly once the small being had found a good spot to sit on his servo. He doesn't want to risk even the slightest breeze to brush against the bruised and cut flesh. He makes certain his servo is locked so it doesn't twitch on them. "This is high enough. Stay still." Deadlock is about to scold him when he thinks Ratchet is going to check the welds on his chassis. Instead Ratchet pops the kit back open and works on himself. Deadlock's vocal box clicks a few times as he tries to comprehend what his squishy is doing. His spark flutters with his EM Field when he realizes Ratchet is using his metal plating like a mirror. Ratchet dabs the cotton ball on the cut above his left optic ridge. "Didn't feel like going all the way to the bathroom. So thanks kid."

Deadlock purrs and almost melts from the thanks. Yes he will happily be a mirror. "Clever thing to do doc. Have those idiots thinking I am loyal and protective to only you will mean I can follow you around more. I am content being imprinted on you. Just tell them you can't undo it doc and if they touch you ever again I will pluck their little tiny servos off and feed it to them." He rumbles in a flat tone towards the end. He rolls his optics at the small ping from Ratchet flicking his chassis, "You may start a fight doc but know I will finish it."

"Didn't really start it either kid." Ratchet sighs looking at his reflection with a solemn expression before going back to dabbing the cotten ball harder against the cut, "Wasn't just about you Drift. They wanted.... they want..." Deadlock wants to curl around Ratchet the tone he is using now sounds like defeat, that's not his Ratchet. Deadlock lifts his free servo and retracts a claw so he can rub Ratchet's back as best he can to comfort him. "I can't." Ratchet rasps placing his forehelm against Deadlock chassis. Deadlock's engine settles to a purr Cybertonians use to sooth each other. It seems to work. Ratchet's shoulders relax and he seems to be getting his thoughts together. Deadlock stays silent and even if he doesn't need to keeps his EM Field in check. He only giving off support, warmth and calm, "It's inhumane, evil... Tourture... It would break down to much of the muscles and cells of the body. The hippocampus, the cerebral cortex, and the frontal lobe... that much damage to the brain would... I can't do what they want me to. Not to anyone Drift. Not what they ask. I can't. To adults, to teenagers, To Children. Young kids not knowing what they have signed up for. Never told. No choice. No way in hell could I ever-"

The strain and deep pain in Ratchet's voice is killing Deadlock. Deadlock can feel the trembling coming from Ratchet as the human catches his breath. He keeps a steady presser against Ratchet's back for support as he moves him up. He ignores the small gasp from Ratchet when he presses Ratchet to his cheek gently. Warm smooth metal touched warm soft skin, "Never. Never will you do what anyone demands of you. They can not make you harm anyone. You have never done anything you didn't want to and you won't start now. You are to much for them to try to control. My little squishy scraplet. I will kill them if they try. You have my glyphic, honor, and spark on this." Deadlock pulls back feeling something wet on his faceplate. Before Deadlock can get a good look at Ratchet's face, the bioengineer is shakily wiping his optics in a rushed motion aggravating the wound on his forehelm making it bead up with fresh blood, "Woah easy doc!" Ratchet bats his digit away when he tries to stop him.

"Stupidly cocky little shit! Lets get you feeling better before you try taking on a whole mecha filled base for me!" Ratchet laughs and smacks the digit still pressed against his back. That laugh does something to Deadlock's systems and spark, "We'll need to discuss a plan. I don't ever do anything half ass. I will not go into anything blind. But you are right, this is not the place for me to be anymore. Sad really. I was doing a lot of good here, made things safer for our pilots. Slowly sure but less were dying... so horridly all the time." Ratchet mumbles the last bit under his breath before shaking his helm. Deadlock likes the smirk that comes back to Ratchet's lips, "Now lay down so I can check that engine. You are starting to sound like a shitty abandoned junker car. Think you knock something out of place."

Deadlock matches Ratchet's smirk with a slag eating grin as he lifts the human a tad higher to press his forehelm against Ratchet's. He feels Ratchet pulls back after a moment, a stuttering raspy purr rumbles pleasantly through him when Ratchet places his servo against his forehelm and rubs. Yeah he does sound like slag and his HUB is flashing warnings, "What ever you say Doc. I am your guardian knight after all. You just tell me when to start swinging." He hums as he shifts to lay down.

Y O U. YOU JUST WROTE THIS ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE OF A FIC??? AND I DONT EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME?? WHOEVER YOU ARE, ANON, I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH NGKGKFGBFHGH YOUR WRITING DOES THINGS TO MY BRAI N

Also. Al s o. I just realized. Oh my god.

We have two Cybertronians on Earth at the moment right. Prowl and Deadlock. But Prowl is very much restricted in his actions because he has strong moral codex and also he's not a very good fighter (at least on his own).

But then we also have Deadlock. And the only thing keeping Deadlock in check is. Ratchet.

Like. Oh fuck just imagine. He isn't restricted by any moral implications except Ratchets opinion. He doesn't really give a fuck about other organic life or laws of Earth or anything. He is also a really fucking good fighter. He doesn't commit murder because that would disappoint Ratchet, but if. IF. Something happens to Ratchet?

THE HELL he would unleash would be visible from outer space.

Him being so sweet and caring and protective over Ratchet doesn't mean he behaves like this with everyone. Him being protective over Ratchet means that if anything takes Ratchet from him, he'll drown himself in blood. He'll burn, claw, gnaw, punch and tear his way back to his human.

All so he can be nice and sweet and caring again right afterward:)

Next

[hivemuthur]

Hey I just read your post about disability in fiction and I was wondering if I could make a request in which viktor needing a breather , which ends up with him and reader falling asleep and forgetting about the deed ?

Absolutely all good if you don't wanna write this,just thought I might pop it In your asks anyway

Btw I love your writing!!! 😊

Hey Anon! So, as I mentioned before, an exact opposite of this situation happens in the last chapter of The Game of Teaching Body. And here we explore what would happen if the deed was forgotten.

Mendings, Minor and Major

viktorxgn!reader mature! with a splash of angst and fluff

word count: 1,4K

—

You swallow a drop of sweat, rolling from Viktor’s nose onto your lips, every bit of moisture welcome as your body gradually gets dehydrated under his. You hear a faint groan, his arms flex around you as he quickly hides his face in the crook of your neck, his rhythm uneven, stuttering, and you soon begin to recognise the groans as ones of pain, instead of pleasure.

You prop his head up, your eyes questioning, but he refuses to look at you. “Viktor? Do you need to stop?” Your grip slips past his cheeks, both your hands and his face wet, as he drops his forehead to your chest and rasps, “No.” His fingers close around your wrists to stop you from touching him this way.

Silence, for a moment, then he adds, “No, I just need… a moment.” He resumes, and a minuscule change in his angle makes you moan and press your thigh against his hip, squeezing a startled hiss out of him. Another pause occurs.

“Viktor—” you breathe, cradling his shoulders and running your hand down his spine. He shudders, and you can feel him shaking his head in the crook of your neck. “No, it’s fine. I am fine. Just… wait for a moment,” he pleads, and you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Viktor, it’s okay,” you try to soothe him, running your fingers through his hair. “Please, let’s stop?” This time, it’s you making a plea, and you can feel Viktor’s face contorting against your skin. He lets out a quiet snarl and disconnects from you, a sad squelching sound echoing between your breaths. You can feel him already softening, but before you can see, he rolls off you and turns with his back to you, curling up.

“Hey,” you say quietly, placing tentative palms on his shoulders, but he winces away and shifts further toward the edge of the bed, as if your touch somehow burned. Your first instinct is to turn around yourself and just let it go, swallowing down the tears welling in the corners of your eyes. You gulp for breath and get up instead.

Footsteps quiet and careful, as you circle the bed to crouch by his side. Viktor’s eyes are squeezed shut, his face annoyed when you place another tentative touch on his shoulder.

“Please, just go to sleep,” he says weakly, plucking your hand off him. Hearing no movement, his eyes open and fix on the space between you and the mattress. “I am fine. Let’s just go to sleep,” he repeats with less impatience this time.

You shake your head while saying quietly, “No. Not like this.” Your own insecurity creeping in as you weigh the options in your head. Have you done the right thing?

“Please, not like this,” you plead again, cupping his cheek, and his face immediately looks pained.

“What do you want?” he sighs, exasperated. Regrets it in an instant as you give him an involuntary wounded look. He moves backward to let you into his side of the bed, and you crawl in wordlessly.

You don’t have to ask where it hurts. Your body clings to him, your hand beckoning his leg to hook over your hip, and when he hesitates, you beg, “Please, lean on me.” He’s already cooled down, his arms limp as you try to drape them around you. “Am I so awful that you don’t even want to cuddle me?”

“No, I just… I don’t need the pity,” he says quietly, looking down, somewhere between your collarbones. He winces at this admission and feels your stare burning into him.

“Viktor, I do not pity you,” you state firmly. “In fact, I’m a bit cross with you.” Very carefully, you sneak in the quiet truth that has been stirring somewhere in your thoughts.

He sucks in a breath, his brows furrowing, before his expression softens. “And why, pray tell, are you a bit cross with me?” he asks, his tone less hostile. A window is opening. Cracking, only ajar, but you sneak your fingers in, against better judgment.

“You still pretend with me. No matter how long we are at this, there comes a point at which you slip back into pretending,” you mutter into his neck, quietly, as if not backing your own words up. Your fingers twitch on his chest, and he shifts, clearing his throat.

“Are you calling me an impostor?” he probes, the edge in his voice faint. Analytical brain overrides his lizard one, and Viktor holds his breath, waiting for your elaboration.

“No, I am calling you reckless. And for no higher reason, since you don’t have to be—not with me,” you huff, not realising what you are being pulled into.

“Here, I would argue, as it was being reckless that brought me to you,” he says quietly, his fingers curling into your hair. His words tumble in your head, and you frown.

“And what do you mean now?” You can feel your heart fluttering dangerously in your chest, as your voice rises into a hiccup.

“Falling in love is reckless, at least in my condition. It leads to... injuries,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with a quiet sorrow.

“Viktor, falling in love is always reckless and potentially always leads to injuries, no matter the condition,” you counter softly, brushing your thumb over his collarbone.

“Yes, but certain injuries are possible to mend, whilst mine are not,” he says, his voice strained. “If anything, they will get more severe with time, causing you injuries of your own in the process. And every time this—” he pauses, gesturing vaguely toward his leg, “happens, I get reminded of it.”

You take a steadying breath, your hand moving to his chest. “And they will be mendable. And you will help me mend them. As for yours,” you say carefully, pressing your palm over his heart, “we will mend as much as possible. A lot of minor mendings.”

Viktor chews on the inside of his cheek, searching for anything to say. He blinks a couple of times and doesn’t move, just stares at you blankly. Then, he allows his body to do the talking—his leg nestles deeper into the dip of your waist, and his arms pull you closer as he releases a breath and rests his forehead against yours. “Alright,” he surrenders, leaving the revelation of what you have just mended to himself.

The window now open enough to squeeze your head in, and you take it, nuzzling your nose against his. You hum, as your lips ghost over his and just stay there, touching. You can feel his eyelashes tickling your cheek and his breath mingling with yours.

His body relaxes into your touch, and he can feel his breath traveling from his chest down to his belly. It rises against yours when yours retreats into exhales. Your hand kneads at his hip gently, and he hums, pressing his face further into your cheek.

He kisses you slowly, his tongue lazily dragging on the inside of your mouth, a quiet sigh slipping from between his lips. Each movement unhurried, gentle, as it carries no expectation, only acceptance.

You thread your fingers through his hair, your nails grazing lightly against his scalp, earning another soft hum from him. His better leg shifts, tangling further with yours, until you can’t tell where one of you ends and the other begins.

The kiss grows lazier still, breaths blending together as his lips linger on yours, moving so little, almost unmoving. His hand trails down your back, coming to rest at the small of it, anchoring his imperfections between yours. Warm and welcoming, you keep him close, palms sagging as you trace his features, eventually falling tangled on his chest.

You murmur against his lips, half a word, half a sigh, as your eyes flutter closed. Viktor lets out a low chuckle, muffled by your mouth, and then his lips still against yours, though neither of you pulls away. Slowly, the space between waking and dreaming blurs, your bodies softening into each other. His arm still drapes over you, his head dipping forward just enough that your noses brush. Your lips remain touching, warm and gentle, as sleep finally overtakes you both, leaving you tangled together, mouths faintly pressed, in the quiet comfort of something small being mended.

[falling-endlessly]

Boomerang (part 1)

Vox x Female!Ex!Overlord!Reader

Summary: When Vox proves incapable of cutting Valentino out of his sex life despite his many reassurances, you decide to break it off with him and leave for good. He doesn’t take it so well.

Just to be clear, reader is an artificial intelligence demon, looks super realistic and human-like, but is actually composed of nanotechnology. She was human once though, like all of the other sinners.

INSPIRED BY THIS POST

Part 2—> Chapter Index

"Y/n?" Charlie poked her head through your door. "There's uh, someone here to see you."

You narrowed your eyes, rising from your bed. A bone-weary sigh escaped you. It was obvious who your supposed "visitor" was. "Did you tell him I'm busy?"

Charlie pursed her lips, looking down. Great, so that meant he was throwing a temper tantrum. And she wanted you to sort him out.

"Alright, fine," you pinched the bridge of your nose. "I'm coming." She was generous enough to let you stay, after all. The least you could do was clean up your messes.

When you finally reached the main floor, Vox and Alastor looked about two seconds away from clawing each other's faces off. Cyan blue electricity was sparking along Vox's entire body, and Alastor's shadows curled dangerously behind him, ready to attack at his call.

Seeing him made a hot fury like no other claw its way up your throat. "What the fuck are you doing here?" You growled lowly, balling your fists at your sides.

At the sound of your voice, Vox immediately broke away from Alastor, a giant smile spreading across his screen. "Sweetheart! There you are!"

You stormed up to him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him harshly into a corner. You let go of him once you were sufficiently out of earshot of the others, crossing your arms and leveling him with a furious glare. "You have five seconds to explain yourself."

"Okay, let's just calm down for a second here," he chuckled, but it was an empty sound. "Is it really that weird for me to want to check up on you? After all, you kind of just disappeared," his smile strained.

"Has it ever occurred to you that the reason you couldn't find me was because I don't want to see you?" You smiled sardonically, patience running thin.

"Uh, what?" He laughed, but his smile was frozen. "Why would you not want to see me?"

That was the last fucking straw. "Are you that fucking delusional, Vox?" You snapped, poking him harshly in the chest. "When I said I was done, I meant it. This," you gestured between the two of you. "Is over. I'm done."

Vox twitched, electricity sparking off sporadically from his antennae. He stared at you in stunned silence, his breathing starting to pick up speed as he processed your words. His eyes searched your face for any sign that you were being untruthful, and when he found none, he glanced up at the small crowd of residents and staff gathered, only to lock eyes with a smug Alastor.

Vox's screen glitched, his features twisting in a rage. "So you're replacing me with the radio fucker now, is that it?"

"Oh, really?" You narrowed your eyes. "Just like you replaced me with Valentino?"

"That's different," Vox gritted out.

"Is it?"

"Yes, for one, Val isn't some archaic cannibalistic fucker with a vendetta against me!"

"Who has the vendetta against who here? Cause it seems like you're the one who can't let things go." You watched him splutter on his bullshit for a few seconds before you shook your head in exasperation, the pounding pressure increasing at your temples. "Alright, that's it, we're done here. Get out."

"Y/n," he narrowed his eyes. "You need to think about this."

"Oh I've had plenty of time to think," you grabbed his tie, pulling him closer to bare your teeth menacingly. "Now get out before I put a goddamn virus in your software Vox!" Your face pixelated from rage at the end of your sentence. You let him go with a harsh shove.

For a long moment nobody spoke, a tense silence blanketing over the two of you. You glared at him venomously, chest still heaving from your outburst. And him, he was looking at you like he'd never seen you before. Good, you thought spitefully. It's finally getting through to him.

Vox's mouth hardened into a thin line, his sharp claws nearly drawing blood from his palms. "Why here?"

You closed your eyes. "It’s not a forever thing. I just—I need to be away from everything for a little while, okay?" Everything that we've built together. Reminders of you. "No flashy shit, no fast life, no technology—"

"You're an A.I. model," he said dully.

"Yeah well, you win some you lose some," you sighed, rubbing at your temples. "Look, I don't want to say it again. Leave Vox, I'm serious."

For a hot second, it looked like you were ripping his entire world apart and stomping on the broken pieces, the way he looked at you so lost, before he hastily pulled himself back together. "Fine," he spat out. It sounded like it physically hurt him to say it.

He lifted his chin, adjusted his lapels, and stormed out of the hotel, slamming the door so hard it blew straight off of its hinges, blue sparks of electricity still sizzling from it.

For a few seconds, a thick tension suffocated the room, as everyone took the time to process the shit show they'd just witnessed.

"Well, that was fun!" Alastor's cheery voice punctuated the silence. You glared at him tiredly.

***

If you thought that he would give up like you so nicely asked, you were sadly mistaken.

Turned out it was just a pre-game warm up for this asshole.

At least thrice a week, he made sure to fuck up your peace somehow. Last time it was spray painting the entire hotel electric blue (how, you didn't even want to know). The time before that, it was trying to sneak some of his peeping gadgets in through the window. And the time before that, it was putting your name up on every billboard in the goddamn city with a red heart next to it.

Now, you stood incredulously in front of half of the hotel. As in, the other half was missing. Blown off by a fucking missile. You couldn't make this shit up if you tried.

"What the fuck is going on?" You gritted out, before taking a deep, calming breath.

Vox's electric laughter rang out from a speaker of unknown source. You turned angrily to face the open air.

"Pathetic," he jeered. "You still want to shack up with these losers, Y/n?"

You shook your head slowly, laughing in disbelief. "Wow," you said sarcastically. "You really showed us, didn't you? Feel better about yourself now?"

You punctuated your sentence with a glare, before turning and storming towards the remaining half of the building.

Vox watched you from twenty different angles across his screens. The moment you turned your back, his wide, toothy grin dropped, eyes squeezing shut. He slammed mute on his microphone.

“FUCK!” He banged a fist on the table, breathing heavily. It had been two weeks already, and you still hadn’t come back to him. He was getting desperate now.

A quick glance at the screen showed Alastor’s glitching picture. The radio bastard snapped his fingers with a raised brow, the missing half of the hotel repairing itself instantly.

“Fucking show off,” Vox growled raggedly.

He needed to change tactics. And fast.

***

Nothing. He had nothing.

No plans, no blueprints, no smart and suave moves to get you back.

Every scenario he ran through his head would inevitably end with you walking away from him. If only he could hypnotize you like with everyone else—but you were a tech demon, just like him. More advanced, even. Your firewalls were just too strong.

Vox poured himself another glass of scotch, solemnly glaring up at the ceiling in frustration.

A clawed hand clasped his shoulder, making him grit his teeth.

“You’re looking a little tense, Cariño,” Valentino purred, trailing his fingers up Vox’s neck. “I can help with that~”

Vox shrugged him off, annoyed. “Not in the mood, Val.”

But Valentino was undeterred. “Is this about Y/n?” He murmured, knowing he hit the nail on the head when the other demon tensed considerably. “What’s so special about that bitch anyway, hm? Is it the pussy? You know I’ve got whores lined up for you, baby. Just say the word and—”

“Fuck off, Val!” Vox exploded, electricity sparking in his eye. “I don’t want just any random bitch from the street, okay?! I want Y/n. I want her back,” he spat miserably.

Valentino went silent, his face twisting into a cruel expression. “Don’t you understand?” He growled. “She left you. Betrayed you. And she’s not coming back, ever. The sooner you see that and stop wasting your time, the better.”

He turned away, his heels clacking against the marble floors until the double doors swung closed behind him.

Vox let out a frustrated yell, arcs of electricity shooting out from him and shattering his expensive collection of drinking glasses to smithereens.

***

A tap sounded at your window, making you tense.

Slowly you approached it, generating a pistol from your nanotech and holding it tightly to your chest. You peered out of the blinds, only to find your ex dangling from the window sill.

“Holy shit!” You screeched, jumping back.

“A lil’ help?” he grinned lazily, reaching out for you. You grasped his hand, hauling him inside of your room.

The unmistakably pungent scent of alcohol invaded your senses, making your wrinkle your nose.

“Jesus fucking Christ, are you drunk?” You dragged a hand down your face.

“No,” he hiccuped, shaking his head vehemently, which caused him to lose balance. You grabbed his shoulders, righting him before he fell and broke his screen.

“Oh yeah,” his face lit up in realization, before he reached behind him, pulling out a bouquet of slightly squashed roses. “For you,” he slurred, offering them proudly.

You looked at them in exasperation, before taking them gently from his hands. Bringing them up to your face, you closed your eyes, sniffing them slightly. A sweet floral scent filled your senses as you regarded them.

“They’re pretty,” you remarked quietly.

“Yeah,” he grinned, your eyes flickering up to catch his. “But you’re prettier.” At your lack of reaction, his grin faltered, and he looked down.

“I…” he started, swaying slightly. “I’m sorry.”

You closed your eyes, shaking your head. “Don’t do this.”

“Please come home,” he continued, expression drooping sorrowfully. He clasped your hand, looking up at you pleadingly. “I’ll…I’ll do better, I promise.”

The ache in your heart grew almost unbearable the more you looked at him, so you averted your gaze. “Why don’t you ever say that when you’re sober?”

Vox let go of your hand, sliding down the wall until he landed on his ass. “Scared,” he mumbled.

You crouched down in front of him, lifting his hanging head from his arms. “Of what?” You said gently.

His eyes flickered up to yours, and the raw emotion nearly stole your breath away. “You still won’t want me.”

“Vox…” You closed your eyes, pained.

“Come home,” he whispered hollowly. “Please.”

“You know I can’t do that,” you said thickly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

He looked at you sadly, but resigned. “Yeah, I know,” he lowered his screen back into his arms. “…miss you,” he trailed off quietly, before soft whistling snores could be heard.

You dropped your face in your hands, breathing raggedly. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. You had almost fucking caved.

After a moment to compose yourself, you searched his pockets, pulling out his phone (he didn’t even change his password) and dialing a familiar number.

“What the fuck do you want now, Vox?” An irritated feminine voice answered the line.

“Velvette,” you said cooly. “I need a favor.”

****

Part 2 —> Chapter Index

[f4ggydog]

that lottie noncon post....

just had a thought, alpha lottie somno noncon???

your heat hitting in the middle of the night while you're sleeping, you're attached to lottie but she's probably up watching over you in case anything happens, typically alpha. she can immediately tell, your scent stronger than it was seconds before. she thinks for a second, you're passed out in her arms and she can already feel her cock getting harder in her shorts. she caresses your hip feeling you unconsciously hump against her.

she slides your shorts down to an already slicked cunt, she runs her fingers across your clit, you're dripping down your thighs, lottie can feel it on her own thigh.

lottie cant wait anymore, the scent of your cunt and pheromones it's driving her insane. she grabs your hips not even trying to be gentle with her movements and thrusts hard inside you.

you wake up to her hands on your hips, making you roughly ride her. you start whining and trying to slow down her thrusts. her scent intoxicating, you just now realized the haziness. realizing your heat had started.

"lott.. fuck baby," you whine tears forming in the corner of your eyes. "w-why now?" you sob as lottie goes harder.

she coos at you, "shhh, it'll be all over soon, be a good omega and take it. it's what you were made for." her fingernails are leaving dents in your skin while she desperately thrusts. "gonna breed my omega," she sighs into the kiss heavily as you bring your lips to her mouth.

"stop alpha p-please.. why wouldn't this wait until tomorrow?" you're fully crying now, begging and pleading with her to stop or slow down.

lottie doesn't let up, she breeds you over and over again, fucking her cum into your cunt every time. all you're able to do is drool on her fingers and take her throbbing cock roughly.

OKAY SORRYYYY i got carried away. i hope this is decent in some way. 🫡

- 🫎

”i hope this is decent” as anon literally makes my pussy throb omg…. Thoughts, thoughts, THTOGUHUHU THOUGHTS

also anon I’m so sorry this took forever to finish I honestly almost bailed on this request at first because my long draft for this didn’t save but I HAVE to get it done no matter how old this is (warning for noncon and nsfw content ahead)

you weren’t aware of your movement prior to the violation. you were just innocently acting on your heat, half-asleep and barely conscious enough to register your grinding.

and lottie, she’s not one to resist her own urges. the perverted part of her brain triggers and her pheromones completely flare up. it’s like she loses all inhibitions. you trigger her and you don’t even realize it.

heat season was right around the corner. even when it hadn’t directly started, close to the beginning of heat season was a time that made the most strong-willed omegas into horny puddles. all that occupied their mind was getting bred or having rope after rope of seed pumped into them. but just because omegas were heated due to their biological functions, that didn’t mean all of them wanted to be preyed on. especially not during such a vulnerable time of the night, their slumber.

but lottie was a selfish alpha at heart. she liked to believe that she put her pups’ best interests in mind. but she didn’t restrict herself from taking control when her desires called for it. and right now, you looked too irresistible to ignore, curled up on your little bed. lottie had to have you. it’d be a crime if she didn’t pay attention to her most perfect treasure in their most unguarded moment. lottie was here to take care of you, whether you liked it or not.

lottie slips your shorts down, her mouth watering at your drooling cunt. fuck, did you even comprehend how turned on you were? why were you doing this to her? why did you have to be such a fucking tease? who cares if it’s unintentional? lottie takes offense to it regardless.

lottie isn’t careful about entering you. the heat and desperation overcrowds her senses and she loses all rationality. she slides her cock deep into you, burying herself almost to the hilt. you let out a loud gasp at the intrusion and dig your nails into the pillow.

at first, you’re afraid to turn around and see who is fucking you so hard. you’re afraid to meet your perpetrator’s eyes. but when you do finally decide to look, your heart sinks and your eyes widen like saucers. what the fuck does the alpha want with you?

“lottie,” you choke out a sob. “what are you doing? s-stop, i-it’s hurting. p-please it’s too much.”

“you can take it,” lottie reassures in your ear. “just be good for me, baby. i know that pretty pussy can handle it. that’s what good little puppies like you are made for.”

“lottie n-no,” you sob, whining into the pillow. lottie thrusts faster and you feel the bed shake underneath you. “please no. lottie please stop. it feels weird. i-it feels full. s-stop.”

lottie kisses your tears away, licking up the salt and practically drooling over how deep her cock is plunging inside of you.

“being such a good puppy for me. you can take it. i know you can. take it for me, baby. be a good omega, yeah?”

when lottie manages to cum, you say a prayer, hoping that the rough session will end. but you two are only getting started. lottie intends on breeding you at least five more times throughout the night. and you better keep up with her pace.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Not Just a Pretty Face – Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Word count: 847

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: After Lando apologizes, Y/n challenges him to a karting race to prove herself, nearly beating him, which leads to a “not-a-date” dinner

________________________________________________________

Lando didn’t expect you to forgive him immediately, but he hoped you would at least stop looking at him like he was an idiot.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t happening just yet.

“Alright,” you said after a long pause, crossing your arms. “Apology accepted—for now. But words are easy. If you really want to prove you’re not an ass, you’ll have to work for it.”

Lando smirked. “Work for it, huh? What, you want me to let you beat me in a go-kart race?”

Your grandpa laughed, clearly enjoying the interaction. “Oh, you wouldn’t have to let her win, boy. She’s been racing karts since she was a kid.”

Lando’s grin faltered. “Wait, what?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “I told you—I know my F1. Did you think I only watched? My grandpa took me to karting tracks all the time when I was younger.”

Lando stared at you, processing this new piece of information. He had really underestimated you.

“Alright,” he said, narrowing his eyes playfully. “Kart race. You and me. Loser buys dinner.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a date, Norris.”

His brain short-circuited for a second.

Your grandpa patted Lando’s shoulder before walking off. “Good luck, boy. You’re gonna need it.”

Lando’s Not-So-Flawless Redemption Plan

Later that evening, the two of you found yourselves at a private karting track, helmets in hand. Lando had pulled some strings to make it happen, and to his horror, you actually looked comfortable in the kart.

“I can’t believe I’m about to race an influencer,” he muttered.

You smirked. “I can’t believe you still think that’s an insult.”

And with that, you were off.

To say Lando was shocked was an understatement. You weren’t just good—you were fast. Aggressive in the corners, smooth on the straights, and completely fearless. For the first few laps, he had to actually try to keep up with you.

By the time the race ended, you were barely a second behind him.

“You almost beat me,” Lando said breathlessly as you both pulled off your helmets. “Where the hell did you learn to drive like that?”

You tossed your hair over your shoulder, looking smug. “Told you. My grandpa raised me right.”

Lando shook his head, grinning. He couldn’t believe it. He had come into this thinking you were just another influencer, but now? You were an absolute mystery—one he really wanted to figure out.

“So,” he said, slinging an arm over your shoulder. “Dinner’s on you, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t move away. “Fine. But don’t think this means I like you, Norris.”

Lando just smiled. “Give it time.”

Dinner wasn’t technically a date.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you sat across from Lando at a quiet restaurant near the harbor, sipping on a glass of wine while he smirked at you over his burger.

“You keep looking at me like that,” you teased, “and I’ll start thinking you have a crush on me.”

Lando nearly choked on his drink. “I—I do not have a crush on you.”

“Uh-huh.” You leaned back, crossing your legs. “Then why did you stalk my Instagram after I humiliated you in front of your team?”

He groaned, running a hand through his curls. “I didn’t stalk you. I just… checked a few posts. For research.”

“Right. Research.” You smirked. “And what did you learn?”

Lando hesitated, then leaned forward slightly. “That you’re way more interesting than I thought.”

Your breath hitched for just a second, but you masked it with a sip of wine.

“You don’t meet a lot of women who can talk about tire degradation and still look good in a designer dress,” he added, a playful glint in his eye.

You tilted your head. “Is that your way of flirting? Because you need to try harder, Norris.”

He grinned. “Oh, I love a challenge.”

A Not-So-Subtle Change

After that night, something shifted.

Lando was… everywhere.

At the paddock, he always seemed to be nearby, flashing you a grin as he walked past. When you posted a story, he was one of the first people to view it. And when your grandpa casually mentioned that he wanted to visit the Ferrari garage, Lando somehow arranged it before you even had the chance to ask.

“You know he’s flirting with you, right?” your grandpa muttered as you both watched Lando laughing with Charles Leclerc near the McLaren garage.

You scoffed. “He’s just trying to redeem himself.”

Your grandpa gave you a look. “You keep telling yourself that, Schatz.”

Lando’s Next Move

That night, as you scrolled through your phone in your hotel room, a message popped up.

Lando Norris: Fancy another race? This time, I promise not to underestimate you.

You smirked.

You: What��s in it for me?

Three dots appeared, then disappeared.

Lando Norris: Winner picks the next dinner spot. Loser pays.

You bit your lip, thinking.

You: So another date, then?

This time, the three dots hovered for longer.

Lando Norris: …Maybe.

You laughed, shaking your head.

Maybe, huh?

This was getting interesting.

@woderfulkawaii @freyathehuntress @anayaverse

[ilovegeorgie]

hiiii hope u having lovely day !!! may i request any ringo fic !? u could also use this as en excuse to post any rigo draft but if not ㅡ some bongo fluff if thats alright! totally in love w your writing AND ur george sickfic, so i was hoping for a similar one with ringo ?

can be anything but preferably slow soft cozy fluffy day inside you know , no worries if u cant, love ur writing <3

there, running my hands through his hair

ringo starr x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none !

summary: sickday with rings and the other boys messing around

a/n: omgg thanks smmmm <33 y'all dont know how much it means when i get comments like these. btww im sorry of theres a few typos, im full of school work :/

it was raining outside, there was a steady, quiet drizzle that tapped gently at the windows. inside the hotel room was warm, the light was golden and low, filtered through the curtains. a record was playing quietly in the corner.

ringo was buried under at least three blankets on the couch, his hair a little messy, cheeks pink from the low fever he’d woken up with. he had one arm poking out from the mountain of fabric, holding a half-drunk cup of tea she'd made him an hour ago.

she was sat on the floor beside him, flipping through a magazine, glancing up every so often to check on him.

“you alright, love?” she asked softly, reaching up to brush a bit of hair away from his forehead.

he gave her the tiniest smile, eyelids heavy. “mhm, bit tired,” he murmured, his voice thick and sleepy.

“you look tired,” she teased, brushing her knuckles gently along his jaw. “well, more sleepy.”

ringo chuckled, then coughed softly into his blanket. “i’m a sick, what did you expect?” he croaked.

“you look kinda cute like this,” she added, and he leaned into her hand just a little.

"i always look cute," he said as she laughed.

she climbed up onto the couch beside him carefully, sliding under the blankets with him. he immediately turned towards her, resting his head against her shoulder. she wrapped her arms around him, her fingers tracing slow circles on his back.

“this is nice,” he whispered, a little congested, nuzzling closer. “i could stay here forever.”

the rain tapped gently against the window. somewhere down the hall, they could faintly hear the other boys laughing, probably playing cards or making a mess in someone else’s room. but here, in this little pocket of stillness, it was just the two of them.

at one point, ringo lifted his head to look at her, eyes soft, nose a little red, curls falling into his eyes.

“thanks for takin’ care of me,” he murmured. “even when i look like a sad mop.”

she laughed, brushing her fingers through his hair. “you always look like a mop, love. just usually a happier one.”

ringo grinned, then tucked his face back against her neck with a sleepy sigh. “you dont know how much i love you.”

she felt her heart skip a beat and looked down, but he was already dozing again, warm and safe in her arms.

...

the storm outside didn’t let up, and neither of them minded.

she stayed like that for a long while, curled up with him beneath the weight of the blankets, one hand stroking his hair. every so often, he let out the tiniest snore, barely a sound, really, more like a sigh. it made her smile every time.

at some point, he stirred again, eyes blinking open slowly like he’d just remembered where he was. he looked up at her, cheeks still flushed because of the fever, but his gaze soft and utterly content.

“you’re still here,” he murmured, voice rough.

she kissed his temple. “where else would I be?”

she shifted a bit to get a better look at him, tucking the blankets around his shoulders. “oh my, you’re warm like a little oven.”

“’m a multifunctional oven,” he mumbled sleepily.

her fingers traced over the freckles on his face. “you’re ridiculous.”

then a knock at the door followed by john’s voice, “oi, has the mop kicked the bucket yet, or is he still hogging all the sympathy?”

ringo groaned loudly and buried his face into her shoulder. “ignore them, if they ask i’m dead.”

she giggled. “you want me to go tell them off for you?”

ringo nodded. “please..”

she pressed a kiss to his forehead. “i’ll let them know, very noble of you.”

another voice joined in from the hallway, it was george this time. “tell him if he wants soup, he better come fight me for it.”

“he can’t fight anyone, george, he’s practically soup himself!” she called back through the door.

“exactly!” came paul’s voice now, laughing.

ringo just groaned again and pulled the blanket further over his head. “tell them i’m retiring, this is my new life now. the blanket kingdom.”

she snorted, curling back in beside him. “fine your majesty, shall i fetch the royal tissues?”

ringo peeked out and gave her the softest look “nah,” he said, reaching for her hand. “i’ve got everything i need.”

[author-kweenyluv]

... Ghosts pt. 1 ...

pt. 1 || pt.2 || pt.3

[It’s difficult to grieve someone when the reminders of them haunt every corner of your life. It’s even harder to grieve them when they decide to come back from the grave] [...otherwise known as ‘I decided to reread the Dead Nightcrawler Comic (Amazing X-Men 2014, #1-5), and imagined what might happen if I/a reader-insert was also in the story after reading that the Bamfs showed up almost immediately after the school was rebuilt post Messiah Complex/Kurt dying’, and then made myself sad. Buckle in everyone, this is a long one] [First multi-parter, whoo!]

The Bamfs moved into the rebuilt and newly minted ‘Jean Grey School for Higher Learning’ as soon as construction was finished, not too long after Kurt.... after he.....

The Bamfs showed up without much preamble, and despite the mystery around them and their appearance, no one at the institute had the heart to try and make them leave. They looked... they looked so much like him, like what you thought....

You nearly screamed the first time you saw one roaming around the school, falling back against a wall and calling for the nearest... anyone, as you curled onto the ground. Chest heaving and mutterings of ‘I’m going crazy I’m going crazy I’m going crazy I’m going crazy-‘ falling from your lips on repeat as you sat on one end of the room, the confused Bamf sitting on the other and blinking owlishly. It was Hank who found you, and it took him nearly ten minutes to convince you that no, you hadn’t gone crazy, and yes, the Bamf was real.

To both your chagrin and despair, the Bamfs seemed to have a particular affinity for you— the little creatures seemed to have a knack for finding you, even when you didn’t want to be found. No matter where you were on the grounds, the Bamfs would find you. And after a while... after a few weeks you gave up trying to hide among your friends to stay away from the small reminders of your dead lover. Of the little glimpses of what you could have had with him if he hadn’t been taken from you so soon.

. . .

It was the end of the school day, classes had ended a few hours prior and now you were curled up on the floor of your room— knees pulled tight to your chest, ears filled with static, your crutches dropped haphazardly onto the floor just out of reach and shoes kicked off —with your hands clutching one of Kurt’s old uniforms to your chest and crying into it. While this wasn’t your best moment, it certainly wasn’t your worst either. No, that had been when you’d first learned about Kurt’s death.

Your worst had been when you nearly destroyed the safehouse you were staying at with the children you were meant to be watching over, and then later when you had lost it at the funeral. That... that had been far from your best moment, it had taken Logan to force you to calm down enough to be present, and even then you hadn’t been able to muster the strength to speak, getting too choked up just seeing the coffin. So here you were now, months after Kurt’s death, clutching one of the last pieces of him you had left while sobbing on your bedroom floor.

One of the Bamfs found you like that not too long after, when you had just about run out of tears for the day and were left with your head in your knees and Kurt’s uniform nearly tearing in your grip. The little thing made its way over slowly, chittering and mumbling quietly as it crawled closer to announce its presence. It didn’t... It didn’t do much, when it finally made its way over to your side, sitting quietly by you without a peep.

As you slowly uncurled you registered the small form beside you, still clutching Kurt’s uniform tight as your hands fell to your lap and you glanced down at the Bamf. The little creature looked up at you with big, sunset yellow eyes, tail curled loosely around itself and sitting sweetly by your hip.

“Bamf?” The word was said quietly, a gentleness in it’s voice that wasn’t usually present in it and its brethrens’ boisterous calls. The little Bamf placed a gentle, three-fingered palm against your leg, a soft, inquiring look on it’s face. It was so... it looked so similar....

The familiar look of concern that you’ve seen so many times, although on decidedly larger features, is what breaks you. You reach out a hand to the tiny lookalike as more tears well in your eyes.

“...I miss him.” Your voice breaks as you get the words out, the Bamf grabbing hold of your hand and climbing gingerly onto your lap to settle itself on Kurt’s uniform. You curl around the little creature and hold it close as you fall apart once more, clutching the Bamf like a lifeline. More Bamfs show up after that, the first apparently having sent some kind of message to the others now curling around your sides and on your shoulders, seemingly trying their best to hold you together with their tiny, achingly familiar hands. Your voice breaks when you choke your words out next. “I miss him so much....”

After the funeral you’d forced yourself not to dwell on the broken space inside your chest where Kurt was meant to be. You forced yourself to swallow down the grief and the emptiness that had threatened to consume you, refusing to allow yourself to lose control like that again. You plastered on brave faces and small smiles and false hopes. Lied and promised and swore that that you wouldn’t succumb to the aching sorrow gnawing at your mind. You knew Hank and Logan and Ororo could see it, could see the tension in your shoulders and the insincerity in your eyes. You knew that your family knew you were lying, but you couldn’t- you couldn’t let yourself feel it. You couldn’t let yourself break under the weight of Kurt’s death when deep down you knew part of you wouldn’t come back from it.

Now though, surrounded by tiny reminders of the man you’d lost, the fraying edge of your will to swallow back the emotion slipping through your fingers at the ginger touch of dozens of tiny, familiar blue hands, you supposed... you supposed that now was as good a time as any to let yourself grieve. If at least for just single a moment in the in the poor imitation of your lover’s embrace.

. . .

Months later, when the staff were informed that something had happened in the basement with the Bamfs and the school suddenly went into lockdown, you gently guided the student’s you could to safe rooms and stood guard like the other teachers who stayed behind. The little Bamf, the one that sought you out all that time ago and who you’d taken to calling Blueberry, had become your second shadow. The little one showed up on your shoulder now in a puff of sulfur, tail curling around your shoulders and eyes boring into yours.

“Bamf.” Blueberry sounded... stern. Determined and almost... final, in its seriousness. Its little hands reached out to guide your face, tilting it down until it could press its forehead to yours, wide eyes closing. You closed your eyes as well, a shaky sigh slipping from your lips as your fingers tangle with the little creature’s swaying tail and it speaks again. “Bamf.”

“Something’s happening, isn’t it?” You say softly, pulling back after a moment to look at the Bamf. “...go. Your brothers need you, don’t they? The team says you all have pulled some stint in the basement, that’s what all the commotion is about, right?” Blueberry nods and guides the fingers wrapped around its tail up so it can hold your hand in its small ones. You give the hands a small squeeze, and keep your voice soft. “Go, I’m sure whatever’s happening, the X-Men will need your help more than me little one.”

A weary smile pulls at your lips and you lean your head against the Bamf’s once more. “...I’ll be okay Blueberry, I promise.” The little Bamf gives you a last glance, before pressing itself harder against you for a single moment, and then disappearing in a flash of light and a puff of smoke the next.

pt. 1 || pt.2 || pt.3

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family B-Side (3)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two (on the way!) Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

Did I already post today? Yes. Did I also post two chapters of Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins today? Yes. I am just incredibly productive today, who knows when it's gonna happen again lol

Anyway, finally! The next B-Side! This bitch has been stewing my guys, so I hope you enjoy it lol

There are two memes at the very end of this one, so definitely stick around

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't 😘

--------

For four weeks, Eddie feels himself losing his mind. He finds gifts in his locker every other day, and he's convinced they're from Steve Harrington. He now has a taxidermied bat, a fancy-looking vial with a skull and crossbones embossed in the glass and filled with mysterious liquid, an actual human skull that Eddie immediately incorporates into his next campaign, and a spider. An actual spider. A live spider that, after a little research, he learns is a fucking Black Widow that seems unnaturally friendly.

Eddie can't stress that part enough. Multiple people have mistaken the spider for an intricate vest patch because it just sits perfectly still over his chest pocket. It only moves to rub its head against Eddie's fingers whenever his hand passes over it, and even then it's careful to avoid hurting him with its pincers.

He names her Nox.

Those aren't the only gifts he's received, but they're the most notable, and Eddie is overwhelmed and flustered by the positive attention he's suddenly receiving.

The other thing driving him crazy is Pubert Addams, a guy Eddie had never paid much attention to before but now considers his mortal enemy. He's convinced Pubert is, at worst, potentially abusive or, at best, delusional and taking advantage of Steve's kindness and inability to brutally turn him down. Or maybe Eddie is the crazy one; he doesn't actually know. Whichever it is, Eddie is ready to take the very nice dagger he now has (gift number 15; yes, Eddie has been counting) and stab him with it.

Because he can't get more than two minutes alone with Steve before Pubert appears out of nowhere. Eddie runs into Steve in the hall while everyone else is in class? Pubert shows up with a hall pass two seconds later and literally waltzes Steve away from him. Eddie finds Steve camped out in the library during study hall? Pubert materializes in the chair next to Steve before Eddie can sit down, leaning far too close as he asks Steve to explain something from their shared Gothic Literature class. Eddie, by some miracle, is behind Steve in the lunch line (and he calls this a miracle because Steve always brings his lunch in a pink box with black skulls, which Eddie considers incredibly brave of him to carry around like it's nothing)? Before Eddie can do more than say hi and get a blinding smile in return, Pubert fucking Addams shows up and drags Steve away while promising to share his lunch.

Eddie is just about to lose the last shred of patience he's struggling to maintain when Steve finds him. Ironically, it's the same bathroom where they first talked, the one with mysterious mold growing in the corner that Eddie is convinced is some new species. It's the only bathroom with a busted smoke detector, and Eddie goes there to get high during his free period.

He's halfway through a joint, smoke curling around him as he sits on the sink counter and tries not to think about what else has been there, when the door swings open, Steve walks in, and Eddie chokes on his inhale.

"Don't die like this," Steve says, stepping closer and patting Eddie's back like they know each other, "It's no fun."

Eddie finally gets himself under control, taking a deep breath and wincing at the way his lungs burn. "No worries," he croaks out, regretting the departure of Steve's hand on his back. "What are you doing here? Please don't tell me you plan to use this bathroom."

"As curious as I am about the bacteria teeming on these toilet seats, no." Steve sounds genuine, like he really does want to swab the toilet seats and see what grows. Instead, he places his bag on the sink and pulls out a familiar vial with a familiar skull and crossbones. "I just came to drink."

"Oh?" Eddie says, leaning forward with a grin. He looks Steve up and down, taking in the pale blue sweater vest and immaculately pressed jeans. "You don't look the drinking type, Stevie."

Steve hums, popping the cork out of the vial and taking a swig from it. "This isn't exactly hard stuff," he says after he swallows, distracted enough that Eddie thinks he misses his eyes lingering on Steve's throat as it bobs.

"Just beer then?"

"What?" Steve asks, looking at Eddie like he's delusional. "No, it's cyanide and vinegar."

He says it with such conviction that Eddie believes him despite knowing cyanide is poison. "Metal," he says, looking away to take another drag of his joint as he struggles to break through his own awkwardness and hold a conversation that will somehow sweep Steve off his feet and make him forget all about Pubert Addams.

Before he can think of something clever and smooth and funny, Steve leans close and raises a hand to his chest. Eddie is about to warn him that Nox is, in fact, real when the spider scuttles onto Steve's fingers and settles in his palm. She does a little up-and-down motion, circles in his hand twice, and rubs her head against his wrist. "You've been taking good care of her," Steve says.

"Uh, yeah. How is she not biting you right now?" Eddie asks, remembering all the times Nox has warningly snapped at others who tried to touch her.

Steve snorts and allows Nox to return to her spot on Eddie's vest. "I raised her," he says, his tone casual like he isn't admitting to showering Eddie with inexplicable gifts for the past four weeks, "of course, she won't bite me."

"So, it has been you," Eddie replies, wanting to hear it from Steve himself.

With a soft hum, Steve takes another sip from his bottle. "Who else would it have been?"

Eddie licks his lips, takes another drag of his joint to brace himself, and hops off the counter. "So, uh, does that mean you li--"

Before the rest of the question can be asked, the bathroom door swings open again, and Eddie feels his eye twitch as Pubert Addams frowns at them. "So, this is where you were," he says, walking over to Steve and putting an arm around his shoulders.

"I told you I was going to the bathroom," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he stuffs the vial back into his bag.

Pubert looks Eddie over, a derisive huff escaping him as he dismisses Eddie and looks at Steve. "On the other side of the school? Really?" he asks, and Eddie would be overthinking what that means if he weren't sure his veins were about to burst.

"We were talking, you know," Eddie says, gaining Pubert's attention again. Steve looks at him, too, his eyes a little brighter.

"I'm sure," Pubert replies, rolling his eyes as he takes Steve's bag. "And now we're leaving." With that, he leads Steve out of the bathroom, the door swinging shut before Steve can do more than smile apologetically and wave.

Anger surges through Eddie, and the shaky drag he takes to finish off his joint does absolutely nothing to soothe it.

He's going to kill Pubert Addams.

--------

Funnily enough, Steve's mother doesn't learn about his crush until he's five weeks into it. When Debbie finally does discover the crush, it's because she walks in on Fester and Steve decorating homemade cookies shaped like anatomically correct hearts. She pauses in the doorway, looking between the two covered in flour and raspberry jam, and asks, "What on earth is going on here?"

Steve looks up, sees this as his chance to finally tell Debbie, and smiles brightly at her. "I'm in love, Mother. He's allergic to raspberry, and Father agreed to help me make him cookies with raspberry filling, so he can feel the same breathlessness I do when I see him," he explains, using his thumb to wipe raspberry jam off his cheek.

Debbie stares at him for a few seconds before looking at Fester. "How long have you known?" she asks.

"Five weeks," Fester admits, looking apologetic. "I wanted to tell you, Pumpkin! But Steve asked me not to so he could tell you himself."

She sighs and walks over to the island, sitting on the edge of a stool and taking one of the cookies for herself. She bites off a pulmonary vein, looking thoughtful as she chews. "I must admit, these are damn good cookies," she finally says, taking one more bite before passing it to Fester to finish. "Tell me about him."

And Steve does. He gushes about Eddie for a solid hour without taking a single breath, spilling everything he's seen Eddie do and how he's reacted to all of Steve's gifts and how he gets so obviously jealous when Pubert butts into their conversations. He tells Debbie about Eddie not screaming when he saw Nox, about him selling drugs, and about his interest in music. Steve laments his hair but eagerly describes the treatment routine he already has in mind.

By the time he's done, the cookies are decorated and his mother's expression has grown a little pained. "Steve, darling, come with me," she says, getting up from the chair and leading him out of the kitchen while Fester starts to clean up.

Steve waits until Debbie has brought him to her spare room to ask, "Did I do something wrong?"

"Well, did you remember my rules about crushes?"

"Yeah. I've talked to him a lot."

Debbie smiles and brings Steve over to the bed, sitting him down and straightening his hair before perching next to him. "Then, you're not in trouble, but you've been going about this all wrong, dear."

"Should I tell Pubert to stop making Eddie jealous?"

"Absolutely not," Debbie says, shaking her head firmly. "In fact, he could try harder. Nothing gets to a man like someone he can't have, especially if he thinks they're in distress."

Steve blinks, frowning slightly as he tries to figure out where, exactly, he's gone wrong. Eddie seems perfectly enamored with him, after all, and Pubert's goading is encouraging his affections, which is the only reason Steve has allowed it to continue. "Did I give him a live spider too soon?" Steve asks, figuring that's the problem here.

"No, that's not...," Debbie trails off, mutters something about Fester being an idiot, and clears her throat. "Steve, your father is the last person you should approach for love advice."

"But...you agreed to marry him, so he must have done something right," Steve says.

Debbie barks a laugh, waving her hand dismissively. "I married your father for his money. I attempted to kill his entire family and only stopped when he promised to give me everything I asked for. I would hardly call him a casanova."

Steve nods along, smiling a little as she speaks. He's heard their great love affair many times, but he doesn't get tired of it. "But you actually love him anyway, right? Father says it's because he showered you with gifts. So, that's what I'm doing."

"I...do love your father," Debbie admits, sighing as though she doesn't know how that happened either. "But it's less because of his gifts and more because...he gave me the devotion I wanted. Anyway, if you learn anything from us, it should be that love comes second."

"What comes first?"

Debbie smiles, the expression positively devious, and Steve can't help returning it. "Obsession," she says, her shoulders rolling back some as pride fills her. "Occupy his every waking thought. Make yourself irresistible. Make him dream of you at night. Overwhelm him with desire until he simply must act on it."

"Oh," Steve says, thinking of how his father acts around Debbie and realizing that obsession never quite went away. But it's worked out well for them, and he knows his mother has experience with luring men into her arms. He nods once and asks, "So, what should I do?"

"I'm so glad you asked," Debbie says, her smile bright and her eyes filled with excitement. "You'll have Eddie falling to his knees before you in no time."

--------

Eddie didn't think it could get worse. He was already attracted to Steve, already distracted by every little movement.

He was wrong. So incredibly wrong.

Because here he is, his mouth dry and his palms sweaty and his cheeks warm because of Steve. He's not even doing anything. Well, that's not true. Steve is curling his tongue around a lollipop before sucking it into his mouth like he'll die without it. But it's more than that. It's the painted-on jeans that hug his legs; it's the pastel pink hoodie (with little bats on the cuffs) that rides up whenever Steve moves to show off a strip of skin just above his waistband; it's the way he finishes the lollipop and pulls out lipgloss, casually telling Pubert it's raspberry flavored as he puts it on.

Eddie swallows around the dryness in his mouth, gripping his locker door so tight that his knuckles turn white as he looks inside it. Sitting innocently on top of everything is a Tupperware container of cookies with raspberry filling (according to the label), and Eddie is ready to eat one just so he can die knowing what Steve's lips taste like.

That's not even the worst of it. The worst is that Steve transfers into Eddie's Music Theory class, smiling innocently while the teacher introduces him and then directs him to sit at the empty desk next to Eddie. When he's close, Eddie realizes Steve smells like cookies and cream ice cream, and he's tempted to ask if Steve smells like his favorite flavor on purpose.

The teacher saves him from the embarrassment of blurting out the question by announcing a project. The teacher then dooms him by telling everyone they're required to work with their desk neighbor. Eddie grips his pen tightly when the teacher tells them to spend the rest of their class time discussing the project.

"So," Steve says, getting Eddie's attention. When he looks over, Steve is leaning forward on his desk, chin propped in his hand as he looks at Eddie. "Want to come over to my place after school? To work on the project, I mean."

Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds, his tongue stuck in his throat. To his credit, Steve doesn't say anything or call Eddie out for staring at him. He just waits patiently with a little smile curling his lips. Eddie finally clears his throat, his voice coming out a little strained when he says, "Yeah, sure, sounds good. After school. Your place. Project."

Smooth. Real smooth.

When Steve just smiles wider and stretches his arms above his head, pulling his hoodie up, while suggesting they do the project on the evolution of heavy metal music, Eddie realizes he's probably going to die after school.

He can't wait.

-------

Tag List (I think there's still room for a few more people ^_^)

@estrellami-1, @itsall-taken, @mugloversonly, @fandomcartographer, @hippielittlemetalhead, @agree2disagre-kicks, @ledleaf, @just-a-tiny-void, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @ink1177, @maya-custodios-dionach, @littlebluejane, @steddieonbigboy, @ravenpainter, @read-write-thrive, @deadontheinside20, @yeahhhh-suga, @nectandra, @mogami13, @mx-jinxous, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @xoxoladyclara

@zaddipax, @dycte, @breealtair, @geekymagicalpotato, @janea-grill, @juliasthename-adhdismygame, @yikes-a-bee, @wayward-people, @st-fics, @disrespectedgoatman, @bipusssy, @cottagecorebutnaturescaresme, @nightowl14028018, @that-binchh, @your-confused-friend, @irethsune, @goosesister, @strawberryyyenthusiast, @irregular-child, @theverywest

And, finally, a two-for-one meme special because I couldn't decide which was funnier:

[frost-queen]

Puffskein's competition (Reader x Sebastian Sallow)

Requested by @freek12569 Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m,

Summary: You and Sebastian are in a happy relationship till one day you get a puffskein gifted from Poppy. The little ball of puff taking away all your attention, making you spend less time with Sebastian to his annoyance.

“Out of the way.” – Poppy called out loud, panting out of breath. She was waving her arms across to make way. Needing a clear path to her destination. Students jumped aside or pushed their friends aside seeing the whirlwind of Poppy Sweetings haste herself in the corridors. She received many glares or confused glances which she could care less for. – “Sorry.” – she panted out, squeezing herself between two friends.

Amit came walking out of a classroom, carrying a pile of books. – “Away!” – Poppy called out, startling him. He screamed as his books got flown up. Poppy took out her wand, slowing a bit down. – “Levioso.” – she said over her shoulder. Amit’s books started to float up and down in the air. – “Sorry Amit, emergency.” – Poppy shouted at him before running away.

Turning a corner, she nearly slipped. – “Easy Sweetings.” – Garreth Weasley called out seeing her nearly take a tumble. – “Can’t speak.” – she breathed out as an answer. Garreth leaned forwards to watch her run towards the end of the corridor, taking a sharp turn to the left.

Nearly close to passing out from having run almost the entirety of Hogwarts in search of you. Finally she saw you. Near Professor Fig’s classroom. – “Y/n!” – Poppy called out relieved. It made you turn your head curiously. Sebastian’s head appearing beside yours. Quirking his eyebrows at the loud Hufflepuff screaming her lungs out for you. Your eyes widened seeing Poppy haste over to you.

Having a clue of what she was about to do, you let go of Sebastian’s hand. Poppy jumped against you for a hug, making you wrap your arms around her so she wouldn’t fall. The two of you spun a bit around from the impact. Laughing loud, you set Poppy back down. – “Hello Poppy.” – you said with a smile. – “Y…Y/n…” – she panted out, needing to catch her breath.

“You need to come with me.” – she said taking your hand. Sebastian puffed up his chest, pulling your arm back to him. – “Where?” – he wanted to know. Poppy gave him a tiresome look. – “I have something for her.” – Poppy told him. Sebastian quirked his eyebrow at her.

You removed your arm from him, turning round to him. – “I’ll be right back.” – you told him with a kiss against his cheek. Sebastian immediately curled up a smile. Too smitten with you.

“Okay.” – he answered sheepishly, rubbing his hands together. You gave him a goodbye kiss on his lips before following Poppy. Sebastian remained behind waving you goodbye as you went with Poppy. Poppy grabbed your arm near the stairs, starting to run. – “Where are we going?” – you asked, running along to keep up with her. – “I saved it from poachers.” – Poppy explained, revealing a bit from the secret.

That gave you enough to know it was a mystical beast. – “Alone?” – you questioned, knowing how ruthless those poachers can be. Poppy hummed soft nearly bumping Leander out of the way. – “Watch it!” – he called out annoyed. – “Poppy.” – you groaned out, not liking that she went alone. – “I know, I know.” – she puffed out. She led you out of the castle, onto the fields. Running to the left.

Away from the castle. Past the quidditch stadium to the class of care for mystical beasts. In one of the cages was a yellow furball. Bouncing happily around at the sight of Poppy. Poppy had let go of you, kneeling before the cage. – “I couldn’t let the poachers have him.” – Poppy spoke whilst opening the cage.

She took out the puffskein, holding it in her arms. Giving it a sweet rub before turning to you. – “It’s yours.” – she exclaimed holding the puffskein out to you. – “Me?” – you blurted out in shock. Tilting your head a bit at the beast. Poppy hummed loudly. – “You’ll be a great mama to it.” – she pointed out. Smiling nervously, you weren’t sure about this. Never having cared for a beast outside of class.

“I’m… not sure…” – you told her hesitantly. Poppy waved your comment away. – “You’ll be great Y/n.” – shoving the puffskein practically at you. Swallowing nervously, you let your hand lower on his head. Feeling the softness of his fur. Eyes locking with the yellow furball as they seemed to widen.

Patting him more, you felt a certain cuteness over you. Taking him from Poppy, you held him up to the sun. – “Aww look at him smiling at me.” – saying out loud. Poppy chuckled sweetly. – “I knew you’d like him.” – she told you. You moved it closer to your chest, hugging it gently.

“I’ll take good care of you.” – you told the puffskein. The beast made a sound that made your heart melt. You gave Poppy a kiss against her cheek, walking off with your puffskein. Completely in awe of it. – “You must be hungry little guy.” – you spoke to it, using an extra sweet voice. – “I’ll find you some food.” – you held the puffskein in your arms, walking down the hill.

After having found some food, you sat down in the grass. Combing the puffskein’s fur. Humming softly as you were so occupied with him. Barely noticing anyone approaching you. – “I thought you’d come right back?” – Sebastian spoke, coming to hover over you. Leaning his head down to look at yours from upside down as the sudden beast made him jump back.

Not expecting it to be there on your lap. – “What’s that?” – he called out. – “A puffskein.” – you told him, holding it up to him with a smile. – “I can see that, but why do you have it?” – he questioned, pushing your hand slightly back so that the furball was out of his face. – “Poppy gave it to me.” – you answered. – “Right.” – Sebastian sighed out coming to sit beside you.

“So about that owl from Fig.” – Sebastian began wanting to discuss. You hummed loud, continuing to comb the puffskein’s fur. – “About the next trial. There is no chance I’m letting you go alone.” – he started to talk, pulling out some grass to play with it in his hands. – “Sure…” – you answered barely listening. Too focused on your puffskein.

You lifted it up, smiling widely at it, before bringing it down to leave kisses on his fur. Sebastian glanced your way with furrowed brows. – “Are you even listening?” – he asked. – “Of course.” – you responded without looking back at him. Sebastian threw the grass away, grabbing you by your cheeks. Forcing you to look at him. – “Y/n, this is important!” – he made clear with desperation in his eyes.

He wanted nothing more than to keep you save. He rather not have you endure all those trials alone. Knowing they were dangerous and you could get seriously hurt. – “I know.” – you exaggerated. Sebastian sighed loud when you turned your head away to look at the puffskein again. – “Y/n can you please look at your boyfriend and not the furball on your lap.” – Sebastian called out annoyed.

You gasped in shock at him. – “He is not a furball.” – you told him clear. Feeling offended, you got up, walking off. – “Y/n where are you going?” – Sebastian shouted confused. – “Anywhere!” – you shouted back at him. Sebastian sighed loud, letting himself fall back into the grass with open arms. With a loud groan he got up after laying still for around five minutes. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he walked off.

Kicking a little rock on his way out of spite. Unbelievable that a furball like that could suck all your attention away. There was much at stake. You still had a target on your back. Rookwood and Ranrok wanting you served on a platter to them. This was important as he wanted to do anything to keep you save. He made his way back into the castle to go to the next class.

You sat with your puffskein in professor Fig’s class. Only Sebastian and you around. Sebastian has been trying to get your attention for the past fifteen minutes. Trying to span a conversation with you, but you barely gave him any talk back. To occupied with your puffskein. Now he sat beside you, hand under his chin at your side, looking annoyed away.

“Who’s the cutest little ball of fluff in Scotland?” – you said out loud holding a candy up. – “Me.” – Sebastian grumbled out, tapping his fingers annoyed on the desk. – “You.” – you exclaimed gasping happily at your puffskein throwing the candy up. Your puffskein caught it as you clapped for it. Sebastian exhaled bored. Ever since that puffskein came into your life, he has been hating it ever since.

You barely had any time left for him. Devoting all your time and attention to the furball. And when you were meeting up, he could barely have all your attention. Completely devoted to the fluffball. Groaning loud, he let his hands fall stretched out over the desk, laying his head down. Thumping it lightly against the wood.

“Sebastian stop thumping your head, you are unsettling my puffskein.” – you told him. It made him stop, eyes widening. – “Unbelievable.” – he muttered out, lifting his head up. Knowing being around you had no reason, he got up. Near the door, he glanced over his shoulder to see if you would notice it. Instead you were teaching the fluffball tricks. Sebastian lowered his head, taking his leave.

Hearing the door shut, you looked around confused. – “Sebastian?” – you said with furrowed brows. Sebastian went down the few stairs finding Ominis sitting down on a bench. He came sitting by his side with a deep sigh. – “That hard?” – Ominis commented. Sebastian leaned forwards, rubbing his forehead thoughtfully. – “Ever since she has that puffskein I hardly see her.” – Sebastian told his closest friend.

Ominis’s eyes widened. – “Did you say puffskein?” – he called out curious. – “Yes and when she is around, she barely gives me attention.” – Sebastian rambled on as Ominis interrupted him. – “Where is she?” – Ominis asked having slapped his hand against Sebastian’s chest. – “Fig’s class why?” – he questioned with a quizzable brow.

Ominis got up in a hurry. – “Hey!” – Sebastian called out at his friend leaving his side too. Ominis ran back up to Fig’s class, opening the door panting. – “Oh Sebastian I’m…” – you started words swallowed back in at the sight of Ominis. – “You have a puffskein?” – he nearly screamed out. – “Yes.” – you responded happily. Ominis hasted over to you, wand up. He let his hand pat around the desk.

Growing a smile when he touched the puffskein’s fur. – “Can I borrow it?” – Ominis asked. – “Why?” – you questioned uncertain. Ominis chuckled secretly. – “I want it to meet someone.” – he replied patting the puffskein. It took you a second to get it. – “No.” – you said reluctant. – “No!” – you repeated more certain afterwards. – “Come on Y/n!” – Ominis begged.

“You are not showing my puffskein to Duncan!” – you let out, knowing he would use it to prank him. – “Y/n please.” – Ominis grabbed you by your uniform, forcing you to look at him. – “I am begging you! You can’t deny me this opportunity.” – he moved his hands up, cupping your cheeks. Squashing them a bit together. – “I’ll be good for it. Y/n I beg you. I’ll do anything for you.” – he called out, making you laugh.

Unable to resist your dear friend, you gave in. – “Fine!” – you said. Ominis kissed your cheek, happily taking the puffskein from you. – “Duncan puffscan here I come!” – he shouted loud whilst leaving the classroom.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[lias-writings]

nectar of the gods

pairing: finnick o’dair x girly!victor!reader

warnings: fem!hyperfemme!reader, set somewhere before catching fire, jealous!finnick, finn being a little mean but such a sweetness at the same time<3, fluff, smut, oral f!receiving, fingering, sex, praise, slutty clothes hihi, MDNI

a/n: absolutely love the idea of finnick with a girly!reader. i love finnick period tho. if you like this fic you might like this headcannons i wrote for, it will reflect each other slightly as i was writing it at the same time!! <3 btw thank you all for the love on my previous posts, appreciate it sm <3 (divider by @anitalenia )

word count: 2.8k

finnick as his did every day, woke up early. it was maybe seven am, as he propped himself up on his elbows, breathing in the fresh air from the open window. he run a hand through his bronze hair, before looking to his right side, where his girlfriend was still sleeping. she was never an early bird.

finnick couldn’t help but let his lip corners curl up slightly, even in all the mess going on, she was the only thing keeping him sane and in a hope that maybe one day things will be okay.

he did not spare much time grieving before rising up from the bed heading straight to the bathroom, brushing his teeth, and changing his sleepwear pants for a swimsuit. as he did every morning, on his way out he pressed a soft kiss on your cheek, before walking out of the house, heading towards the private beach of district four’s victor’s village, and straight to the ocean.

not even an hour later you were stirring from your sleep, rubbing your eyes as your hand searched for a warm body next to you. when you learned there was no more finnick you whined already needy for some sweet kisses, cuddles and attention.

accepting, even if unwillingly, that your man is not coming back for some time, you put on your pink fluffy slippers, you once found at a store in the capitol. making your way into the bathroom, you brushed your teeth, untangled your hair into a little less of a rat’s nest more into a presentable hairstyle and did some skincare with the adorable little bottles you always bought from the herbalist woman at the market. surprisingly it worked so much better than the chemicals they made at the capitol.

content with your appearance, you walked back to the bedroom, picking out some of the cute clothes you owned, little skirt and a pink top as you shuffled to the kitchen, opening the fridge to get some fruit for breakfast.

you whined again, after finding out there was only some milk left and little to no breakfast appropriate ingredients. looking up at the clock above the kitchen counter seeing it was almost nine am, you knew finnick would come back soon and you wanted to surprise him because he does sweet things for you all the time.

you took the cute basket from the cabinet under the sink, slipped your pink ballerina flats on and walked out of the house, locking behind yourself, walking towards the market in district four.

it wasn’t far away, you walked out of the victors village through the town, greeting few neighbours, smiling at people all the way to the market.

“well, hello there.” a masculine voice echoed in your ear, as you felt a warm hand on your lower back. you turn around only to see your friend from school that has stuck with you till now.

“rowan! hi!” you say excitedly immediately pulling him into a friendly hug. before winning your games, getting to know finnick and all, you’d call rowan your best friend. you weren’t so close anymore because you both had lives now, or you thought so, but you’d still say he’s a loyal friend to you and you are to him.

“hey, hey. how are you? everything okay?” rowan chuckled lightly, not really wanting to pull away but soon enough, even to his disliking, you did and got stared on your rant.

finnick was finally done with his swimming session for today after two hours almost and on his way back home, after slipping on a shirt, covering his muscular chest, he had an idea to bring you something sweet from the market, knowing you had such a sweet tooth.

he walked from the beach, spending time with his thoughts and letting the late spring warm breeze ruffle his bronze hair. he entered the town, waving at few people he knew and then headed towards the market. finnick knew exactly where to go.

he once was told that maybe he should go see an eye doctor, but he’d swear on his life, that there was his girlfriend standing, in her tiny little cute outfit, smiling as bright as the sun was shining, at a dude he only heard about until now.

finnick raised his eyebrow, just looking at them for a second, his face forming into a slight frown as he heard his lover’s giggle.

finnick was never one to be jealous. apart from being confident in himself, he was even more secure in their love for one another. wanting to be a good parter, he put back the smile on his face, nearing the pair.

“hi, sweetheart.” finnick wrapped his arm around you hips, kissing the crown of your head, while starring daggers into the other man.

before you had any chance to greet your boyfriend, rowan spoke up, “finnick ‘o’dair.” sure of his guess.

“and you are?” finnick said, smiling tightly, trying to appear indifferent but it was not easy when someone else tried to get close to his sweet baby angel that was just too nice for her own good sometimes. finnick was protective because he knew how badly men could hurt her.

“rowan corvel. we’ve been friends since pre school.” he said flashing you a smile, but his eyes were full of envy towards finnick.

“oh really?” finnick mused before looking at you with a confident look, “how come you never mentioned him, baby?”

you gave finnick a confused pout before parting your lips to speak.

“i did-“

“i’m so sorry, riven, we have to go.” finnick said with a mocking apologetic tone, already moving you away, before you had any time to protest.

rowan gave him a dirty look in return before shouting after you. “i will see you around!”

“yeah, you sure will.” finnick muttered with a scoff pretending to not see your perplexity.

“finn, what was that?” you said frowning your features subtly.

“don’t know what y’ talking about.” he said looking somewhere at the road as his arm was still around your hips as he looked over his shoulder, seeing that the dark haired younger man was still staring at them. finnick smiled smugly, tugging you gently closer to his side.

once you both got home, finnick let go of you heading straight to the bathroom.

“finnick.” you whined, following after him, not liking being left ignored, it was just making you more needy.

finnick didn’t stop in his tracks, before he was at the very enter of the bathroom then turned on his heel facing her. he placed a hand on her cheek, taking her chin in his thumb and point finger, lifting her head upwards, his other hand flew to her hip, his thumb rubbing soft circles.

“what is it, huh sweet girl? you want somethin’ now?”

“i…”

“i didn’t even touch you and y’ already actin’ so dumb fucked, hm?” finnick cooed at you. you just stare up at him with your big bambi eyes, pouting your lips and before had an opportunity to say anything else, he spoke again. “should’ve asked your great friend rowan to fuck you.”

and just like that, he let go of you, closing the door from the bathroom behind himself to take a shower.

you were left standing there dumbfounded and maybe you’d stand there longer if the sound of water didn’t snap you back.

you made your way back to the bedroom, taking your top of letting your breasts bounce back against your chest, then taking your skirt off revealing your lacy pink panties. from the back of your closet you dug out a pink lacy bodysuit, knowing what kind of effect it had on finnick.

you kneeled on the bed, sitting on your heels waiting for your boyfriend to return. not even twenty minutes later finnick came back, wearing just his pants the waistband of his boxers peaking out at his v line.

he gave you a once over, then walked to the edge of the bed, taking your face into his big hand brushing your lower lip with thumb.

“so sweet, angel. think wearing somethin’ slutty will make me give you what you want?”

you whined again, looking up to his sea green eyes, almost wanting to drown in them, pleading him to drown you, to drown with you.

“finn, please don’t be mad at me..” you whimper almost, pathetically trying to rub your thighs together feeling how your wetness was soaking through the thin material.

“oh, baby. shhh i’m not mad at you, ‘s okay c’mere.” finnick cooed before reaching his hands behind you, resting them there, leaning over and kissing you.

it was sweet and soft at first, then his hand moved to you thigh, holding you close and kissing you harder. hot, messy and needy, that’s how it continued while he rubbed you thigh softly moving upwards in such a slow manner it was killing you.

you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling on the bronze waves slightly and whining against mouth.

“aw you want me to fuck you dumb, sweet girl, hm? y’ can ask next time no need to make a scene.”

and with those words he gently pushed you back so you laid down on the bed, into the pink soft sheets, and he parted you legs open, kneeling in between them, as he cupped you with his palm first before circling your clothed pussy over the lace, slowly and gently, feeling with his fingers, how soaked you were, he clicked his tongue.

“you’re dripping, pretty girl and i’ve just touched you.” finnick did wanted to be mean, he was thinking about not touching you at all today, but once he saw your pleading he was powerless.

“finn, please..”

“shh, love, i’ll take care of you, i’m here angel.” finnick said, leaning down and planting soft kisses on your left thigh. his arm wrapped around it holding it in the air as you were a whimpering mess underneath him.

finnick left a trail of sloppy kisses, at the way to your core, marking your inner thigh with hickeys, smiling proudly at his artwork before moving to your right thigh doing the exact same thing. by the time his lips reached your center, you were at the verge of crying out loud.

“shhh i’m here, honey. i’ll make y’ feel so fucking good.” finnick hushed you, his skilled long digits undid the buttons holding the bodysuit, as it opened revealing your slick folds.

finnick leaned down, running his tongue in between them, lapping on your wetness, making you arch your back against the mattress in pleasure. you let out shaky moan, holding onto his muscular arms, you nails scraping the subtly tanned skin of his.

“that’s it darling, you’re doing so good.” finnick said in between eating you out. his tongue teased your entrance and his lips kissed and sucked out your clit making your plush thighs shaky and brain go cloudy.

“finn..i’m-”

“you close, sweet girl? yeah? hold it.” you whined in protest but were left with no choice so you tried to close your thighs around his head which earned you a click of finnick’s tongue, the vibration against your sensitive nerve sending shivers through your entire body.

“finn, please!” you whined, loudly. your eyes shutting close, your mouth falling agape as finnick handled your pretty pussy with such care, it was impossible to not cum any second.

“needy girl. ‘s okay baby, you can come f’me.” finnick muttered kissing your fold gently, guiding you through you orgasm, then lapping up all the sweet juices. he leaned up on his forearms looking down at you, his lips and chin glistening with your essence and his eyes were looking at you like you were perfection itself and that sigh could make you cum right again.

when he leaned down once more dipping his head between your thighs against, you pulled at his hair lightly.

“finn-“

“you can give me one more before i fuck you right, can’t you pretty girl?” finnick asked his skilled tongue already running up your folds as he held your gaze with his.

in fact he spent another hour with his face in your pussy and has got three more orgasms out of you, this exact way, leaving you almost overstimulated just before he rested his arms next to your head, howering above you, one hand suddenly moving to your middle as he rubbed your soft tummy gently.

“you gon’ let me take this off, angel?”

you look up at him, your brain still clouded from the ecstasy you experienced just a second ago, lips parted open, before you only nodded in agreement.

“use your words, sweet girl.” he says, his voice soft and comforting.

“y-yeah, you can take it off.” you babble after few seconds and finnick smiled at you softly, before tugging on the straps, slowly peeling the clothing down from your body, while holding eye contact with you. he loved your eyes, they were so lively and innocent even if they had seen so many terrible things.

once you were stripped naked, he kissed you again on the lips. so softly. so gently. so sweetly. he then kissed your cheeks, your forehead, your nose and then moved to your jaw. finnick trailed his lips down your neck, leaving visible hickeys, when he sucked on the sensitive skin there. your collarbones, your chest your breasts, torso, everything was loved by finnick’s mouth before he got just above your navel, leaving the softest kiss there and then coming right up again, pushing his finger inside you without a warning making you moan and instantly your breath shift.

“can you take me, sweetheart? you can, right? you’re soaking baby.” even in this state, you couldn’t had enough of him, so you nod eagerly, wanting him inside you already.

finnick stopped stretching you for a moment reaching down to unbutton his pants, then tugging his boxers down, enough to free his hard, thick cock, already leaking with pre-cum. he palmed himself few times almost groaning at the sensation so desperately needed.

“finnick..” you whine needfully, impatiently squeezing your thighs together.

“shh i got you, doll.” he cooed again, moving the hand, to your thigh, opening your legs, kneeling between them as he then reached somewhere behind you to grab a pillow, without much effort lifting your hips up and placing the pillow beneath them, he finally lined up his tip with your entrance before slamming his hips against you forcefully.

you moaned arching your back, with the first thrust finnick was already hitting all the sweets spots you wouldn’t even know existed, crying out pathetically as he did it again, before steadying his peace, fast but not harsh, more sensual. your fingers were gripping the sheets tightly as his large hands grabbed on the fat of your hips, pushing your body forward, against himself.

“fuck, darling you’re so tight, god you’re doing so good.” finnick groaned, not slowing down, not in the slightest, fucking any thought in your head out. leaving you wordless and more fucked out the closer to the edge he was getting you again.

“mh finn, c-can fewl you in my tummy..” you babble in between soft moans and cries of pleads for him to take you.

finnick continued to take you on his cock, hitting your g spot all over and over again, feeling you tighten around him as you got closer and closer to your fifth orgasm today.

“finny, i’m gon’, mm-” you pout at him as your eye lids fluttered, your hand reaching for his. finnick laced your fingers with his, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand as he fucked you so good, you even forgot your own name.

“me too, angel. ‘s okay, cum f’me. i’m right here with you sweet girl.” finnick cooed, thrusting into you few more times before he stuffed you full with his warm cum, the white creamy liquid streaming down your soft plush thighs.

as you ride from your high, you come with the scream of his name before closing your eyes and breathing heavily, trying to calm down your racing heart, absolutely tired out in the best way possible.

finnick smiled down at you proudly, slowly pulling out before brushing the beads of sweat from your cheek, kissing your forehead lovingly.

“y’ did so good, my love. am so proud of you.” he comforted you before tugging his boxers back up, zipping up his pants and lifting your tired body from the bed into his arms and you held onto him, contently laying against his chest.

“wanna take a bath, sweetheart?”

“yeah.” you nod in agreement smiling at him as well, kissing his cheek.

“aren’t you adorable.” finnick chuckled, kissing your forehead again, before carrying over to the bathroom.

[iaure]

𝔦 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔨, 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔭

𝖞𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖌𝖚𝖊𝖑 𝖔❜𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆 𝖝 𝖋𝖊𝖒!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 1: 𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔶; 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 2: 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔪𝔶 𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔰, 𝔶𝔬𝔲'𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔨𝔢𝔢𝔭 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 4: 𝔰𝔞𝔡𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴

CW: delusion, attempted kissing, chase sequence, snitchery, thoughts of reader being a mother, vivid fears of dying, reader is temporarily locked away, reader gets hurt, SpanishDict translated Spanish.

This part switches between Miguel's POV and the Reader's. ♱ stands for the translation being at the bottom of the post. please let me know immediately if there are any errors!

Severe spoilers for Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ we making it out of nueva york with this one !!!! maybe. there's a poll at the end to determine fundamental plot! please vote after you read and share your thoughts!! i had the she's homeless x spider-man india mashup on loop and reached a higher place of ascension.

wc: 3.8k

𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

Miles Morales had escaped, run amok to another world. Jess and Ben were trying to hunt him down, but with no back history on the Go Home Machine, they were stuck playing the waiting game. Margo was working on it, but Miguel had a hunch that her heart wasn't in on it. Traitors, everywhere. And the most painful traitor of all refused to meet his eye. Miguel sat on a chair in front the containment bubble, elbows on his knees with his hands laced together. Y/N had been sealed away, red filament twisting around her like a hamster ball, or a puffed up cocoon. The grapefruit glow bounced off her skin, casting an ominous light over the blooming bruises around her midsection, where her suit had torn from the glass, where Miguel had hurt her. He hated self-confliction. Y/N had betrayed him, the Spider-Society, the multiverse-willingly aided Miles in his escape. She probably was the reason he got away. Y/N had made the conscious choice to forsake the canon. She had known Miles for all of an hour, at most. Y/N threw away everything to help a teenager that (to Miguel, at least) had no idea the damage he was causing. She completely the deserved the situation she was in. It didn't matter what the reasoning was. And now she sat, curled up in a fetal position on the floor, trapped inside a containment bubble, her back to him. Y/N didn't meet his eye, but he knew it wasn't an act of shame or cowardice. It was the idea that he wasn't worthy of it; the idea that he didn't deserve to see her eyes. That she wouldn't even grace him with the idea that she was looking at him. She was being punished like a toddler with time out. Y/N had made a mistake.

But Miguel loved her.

He couldn't dance around the word anymore. There was a monster clutching his beating heart, and it haunted his immortal soul. It was love, as twisted and convoluted as it was. Love for a woman that had her back to him, pointedly refusing to speak. Miguel had seen her anger before. Being on the receiving end felt like a nightmare. Just silence, as thought the two of them were preschoolers and the silent treatment was the most lethal weapon in the schoolyard. He expected her vitriol to be loud, the kind that breeds screaming matches-not this.

"Y/N." Miguel was met with (shocker!) more silence. "Where did Miles go? This is important." Silence. "Why would you do this. You've potentially damned the multiverse." Y/N shuffled a bit, if only to wiggly further away. "You've helped disrupt the canon." Miguel sighs. "You're an adult. You should know better. Miles was a stupid kid-" "That you body-slammed into a train." Y/N finally spoke, biting like a viper and tilting her head a bit to look at Miguel out of the corner of her eye. "A 15-year-old that you saw fit to chase on all fours. His reaction was reasonable." Miguel's conflict swelled. Y/N was talking in that dulcet angel tone, so succulent despite her anger. But her insistence was irritating. She absolutely should've understood, better than any of the teenagers, her little acolytes. Miles was new. It was true that his reaction was...understandable, to a degree. Hobie always broke the rules anyway. Gwen was going through a rough time, and Pav was there to have a good time. But Y/N's brother died because of an anomaly. She of all people should know the threat they pose.

"We tried explaining it to him. It was his choice that he didn't listen. You, on the other hand, you knew the consequences." "I'd rather be a proper hero and fight for what's right, to help those that need help. That's a concept that's hard for you to understand, right?" "Oh, so trying to protect the multiverse is wrong. Okay, okay. Esto es ridículo.♱" Miguel rose from the chair, muttering under his breath and turning with his hands on his hips. His head was reeling. He knew Y/N was stubborn, but this was absurd. "I'm holding every Spider, every world, together!" "Says the guy who didn't even get bit!" Y/N counters, quick as lightning. "If your canon events are so true, then how is Nueva York standing? You answer me that!" "Canon events can differ-" "By so much that there's not even a spider? Get real, Miguel! The kid isn't doing the-the-the-!" Y/N tripped over her words, rising from her curl on the ground and talking with her hands, trying to get her thoughts in one row. "The devastation that you think he is! Canon isn't infallible!" Miguel whipped around, realising he'd come face to face with Y/N. She was panting like a dog, a scowl buried under a grimace buried under a glare. Her eyes were steely, finally meeting Miguel's eyes like rocks crashing with the sea. It was a clash of wills.

And Miguel hated how much he loved it.

What a woman, honestly. If she was this passionate about protecting a teenager she'd just met, what would she be like with her own kids? Miguel was sure that Y/N would be wonderful, always coming to the kid's defense, without question. That venomous tongue would be soft-spoken to a child, one that would have Y/N's eyes and Miguel's hair. Maybe a little girl, a Gabriella that would truly be Miguel's own. No switching places with the dead. No feigning love for a woman he didn't know. No technicolour nightmares. His own little girl, from his own wife. And god! Y/N as a wife! She'd be so sweet, waking Miguel up in the mornings with light kisses, whispering sweet nothings to him, letting his hands water as his slips out of groggy dreams. The rising sun on her skin would light her up like a holy statue, and the moment Miguel was conscious he'd be happy (honoured) to worship. From the second he woke up, to the second he fell asleep, he'd be worshipping, down to his dreams being dictated by Y/N. Holidays, weekends, family trips, saving the multiverse together...it would be-

"What, you going brain dead? Are you even listening?"

Y/N's biting words dragged Miguel back to reality, as hateful as the idea of reality was. His daydreams were so much kinder than this. She was still upset, still trapped behind that red barrier, and they were still enemies. But after the vision of what they could have, it was like a tease to just keep playing cat and mouse. It would be cruel and unusual punishment to torture himself like that. It'd take convincing. A lot of it. But Y/N wasn't unreasonable. She was noble at heart and maybe a bit naïve. But she was a Spider at the end of the day, always looking for the best solution to terrible problems. And that's where it's important. That's okay. Relationships were about compromise, after all. "Y/N." Miguel spoke softly. He really couldn't hide his affections for much longer. It was spilling out of him like a cup, pouring through the cracks and spilling over the sides. And he saw how Y/N shifted. He could tell that she was figuring it out. She could see how he moved. And she slowly backed to the other side of the containment bubble, moving further away until her back was against the wall. Did it break his heart? A little bit, but this was going to take time. All things would.

"Y/N," He repeated. "We...really shouldn't fight. We're-we're special, you and I." Miguel got close to the containment bubble, watching Y/N.

He didn't realise it, but sometime in the last fifteen minutes, the bubble's purpose had changed. It started out as capturing a prisoner, a traitor, someone who was dangerous and could be a threat to society as a whole. But it changed to a shield, protecting a prey animal from a predator. It was Y/N's last safeguard from Miguel doing anything unwise. The dynamic shifted. Y/N could tell it-every hair was on end, every sense was on fire. But Miguel was oblivious. "I'm gonna shut this off," He tapped on the filament, and Y/N swallowed. "Promise me you won't go running off. We can have an adult conversation. We can talk." And maybe Y/N should've protested. She could've asked to keep it on, but who'd admit they were scared in a situation like this? So she stayed silent. She kept in her corner, and irritation reared it's ugly head again. Miguel was trying to be cordial. Why wouldn't she just promise? He was offering her freedom.

(Somewhat. Details didn't matter, not here, not now.)

It's not like he was going to hurt her. It's two measly words. Two words in exchange for a lifetime and some of love, affection, devotion. Was that really too hard of a deal?

"Promise." Miguel growled.

Instantly, Y/N put her hands up in mock surrender. "Promise! I promise." Miguel's heart bloomed. She could be so charming when she wanted to be. So disciplined and playful, a good wife, a good lover. Listening was the first step, and she was listening. Miguel could only grin. "Okay." He put his hands to the barrier as his heart raced. He was so close. A step or two more, and he would have the love of his life in his arms. And Y/N was staying still. There was no tension that he could see. She didn't look like she was about to run. She was just nervous. The red barrier folded out of itself, and quiet suddenly, it was just Miguel and Y/N in a room. When was the last time they'd done this? Miguel couldn't remember the last time it was just them. It was always either in fleeting moments or with other Spiders around. It was impossible to get Y/N alone, no matter how hard he tried. But here she was, just him and her and them and an empty room where no one was going to stop them. She didn't move, watching him like he were a predator in the savannah. Miguel didn't like to say that he was excited, per se. But there wasn't really another word for it.

His eyes scanned over Y/N's pretty face, every inch memorised in Miguel's mind. Her sharp eyes. Her cute nose. Her pretty lips. Her pretty lips. What would they taste like? Did she use lip gloss? What would that taste like? How would it feel to have her lips linger on his? These were dire questions, and Miguel was done waiting. He walked up to Y/N, slow and purposeful. He had to seem as non-threatening as possible to pull this off. And quick, because chances were Y/N was going to do something harsh, like slap him. But it was a small price to pay. After all, he had his whole life with Y/N ahead of him. He just needed to get it started.

Y/N was by no means a stupid woman.

She grew up with the same precautions every other girl did. Don't talk to strangers, they don't have candy in their van, and know when men are about to jump your bones. And in this case, she could practically smell Miguel's thoughts, like the gears in his brain were making smoke from how hard they were churning. She trusted him as far as she could throw him, if she tried throwing him when she was 12 and before she got bitten. That is to say, she didn't trust Miguel at all. He was a stupid, stupid man, and she needed to bolt. So, that's exactly what she did. Promises, schromises. Y/N could say whatever it took for Miguel to let her go, but at the end of the day, she had a responsibility to herself. For all his talk about having an adult conversation, she knew what the look in his eyes was. And when he began reaching for her cheek, Y/N knew it was now or never. Miguel's body weight was enough that she could web him up and hurl him into the nearby wall. It was like watching a cannonball get launched a Mach speed, and his surprised yelp was far more satisfying than it should've been. But he'd done this to himself, and as Y/N booked it down the hallway, she knew she was on a divine clock. Either luck or skill was going to get her out alive, and luck was unreliable at best. She had her hands, her webs, and her brain. That was going to have to make do.

A vast majority of the Spider-People were out, either in their own worlds or helping hunt down Miles. Poor Miles. He just wanted to save his dad. Y/N did her best, did the most she could, but right now? Right now, she had to focus on getting out alive, preferably with her pride intact. And as she heard Miguel's thundering footsteps behind her, an anguished yell, she found it in herself to go impossibly faster. Maybe if she was an outside observer, it would've been funny-a woman booking it past someone standing, only to be followed by a massive, 6'9 blue and red bullet on all fours. Wow. Miguel really did like just running like a dog. Y/N dove down into the lobby of the Spider-Society, ducking and weaving under bridges and platforms. Miguel leapt like an animal, clawing his way onto a platform above and dropping down.

"Stop running!" He barked, getting up to two legs again and reaching out. Y/N could feel his claws miss by a hair, and she leapt off the edge, swinging around and swerving to a platform above, stumbling into the containment room. Rows and rows and rows of sunset orange, anomalies staring at her with wide-confused eyes. None of them were the ones she'd caught, and as she heard Miguel claw up the side of the wall, she knew running wouldn't work forever. She had to do what Miles did-hide, outlast, outplay. These kids were getting too damn smart. Y/N dove behind the anomalous Rhino, praying that it wouldn't elect to shuffle over. It was the biggest thing in the room, the most stationary-and now Y/N realised she was putting far too much stock in luck. If Miguel found her, she genuinely didn't know what he would do. Would he cage her again? Hurt her? Kill her? It all seemed to be a possibility, all at once.

Now, all she could was hope the anomalies didn't sell her out.

In all honesty, she wouldn't blame them. The Spiders didn't have the most ethical treatment of anomalies. She wasn't even sure if they got fed, or what. But maybe a shared hatred for one particular Spider-Man would get it across. Y/N shared a look with a Doc Ock, and he stared at her. She grit her teeth, praying that somehow, the silent prayer would get across. A twitch throbbed in her neck from sheer tension, before the Doc Ock gave a barely noticeable nod. He looked away. It's a cold day in hell when the villains understood Y/N better than the 'good guys' did. Miguel burst into the room, claws tearing up the metal floor. Y/N could see a handful of the anomalies jump, all eyes on him. She had her back to him, and part of her hated how she'd put herself in such a compromising position. Short of her spider-senses, she wouldn't have a clue if she needed to run, and right now, she was having a Spider-Woman check engine light with how much the sense was going off already. It was rendered useless, because thank you very much, she was aware she was in danger.

"Vamos. Prometo que seré gentil.♱" Miguel cooed, heavy steps reverberating throughout the room. Maybe he was muttering to himself, or he genuinely was trying to speak to Y/N, but she knew better than to just leap out and go 'I'm here! Come and get me!'. Spider-Man was funny, but he wasn't stupid. And the same went for his 7290 variant. The anomalies all went silent, and Y/N felt her mouth go dry. It'd been so long since she'd last felt this genuinely terrified. Last time, she was 14, sobbing in an alleyway as she watched her uncle die. This time, she was being hunted by an obsessed, genetically infused daddy longlegs. This was absolutely, totally, completely fine.

"Mi corazón es tuyo. ¿Qué más se puede pedir?♱" Miguel kept muttering to himself, low and quiet and enough that if Y/N didn't have superior hearing, she wouldn't have picked it up. "I need you, I need you, I need you...you need me."

Mm. Y/N wrinkled her nose at that. That just sounded stupid.

Y/N kept her breathing controlled, trying to tame the soreness in her lungs and the shuddering breaths. Bile pooled in her throat as she heard Miguel slowly walk past the rhino, a shake in her hands that she hated acknowledging. But Miguel was terrifying. He was the ultimate predator, trying to hunt Y/N down like prey. She was prey, for the first time in years. She figured that maybe, if they'd done a better job of convincing Miles, then it would make sense. But if this was what the boy was seeing, feeling, then no wonder. She would've jumped off the bullet highway, too. Abruptly, there was a sudden crash, and Y/N's head whipped around to see that Miguel had thrown one of the containment contraptions, hurling it to the wall opposite to her. She practically jumped out of her skin, the bile leaping to her tongue in a bitter, acidic taste. Miguel swore hard in Spanish, howling like an injured dog, damaging more equipment and clawing up anything that wasn't an anomaly. With every hit, every swipe, Y/N flinched, because holy shit that could be her. He could pop her head off with a single slightly hard hit, and it'd be over.

He stalked out of the room, leaping down to the Go Home Machine below. Y/N's sigh of relief felt like it was shared with the whole room, all the anomalies relaxing at once. It's like a thread had been pulled out of a fabric, letting it finally fall the way it was meant to. One anomaly, a fucked up Green Goblin, did a dramatic flop to the floor. Y/N shut her eyes, taking a deep breath. At this point, she'd just abandon ship-leap out the nearest window and web her way out of the city before Miguel could deactivate her watch. And even if he did, then she'd hide out. Nueva York was insane, a metal jungle. She could spend the rest of her life hiding out there, if she had to.

"Beep beep."

Y/N's eyes flew open, looking to her left. Her gut plummeted. Miguel's golden boy, his favourite, one of their best, stood next to her, exactly 4 centimetres high. LEGO Spider-Man, with his teeny little watch. Before, Y/N thought he was cute, like a dog or something. But as his watch flickered to life and the visage of Miguel appeared, she regretted every single instance of her almost stepping on him. "H-Hey, wait-!" She whispered, harsh. "Don't-!" "Miguel, I got eyes on Y/N!" LEGO Spider-Man moved in a way that only a LEGO minifigure could, his head rotating a little bit. The Miguel avatar slowly turned, locking eyes with Y/N, and her blood froze. "Thanks, Peter. You're one of our best for a reason." "Beep beep." LEGO Spider-Man shut off the watch, looking to Y/N. "Sorry. Nothing personal." There was silence for a second.

"Peter." Y/N said. "You fucking suck."

She picked up the LEGO and proceeded to chuck him as far as she possibly could, launching him into the lobby and watching him fall. Some of the anomalies groaned, and already Y/N could hear Miguel barreling his way back to the room. Why the hell could she not catch a break? She only had a handful of options, most of which weren't actually options she could do. There was turning herself in-a non-option. There was calling for help-another non-option. And then there was simply...jumping out the window. The same thing Miles did. Which...felt cliché. Would Miguel really fall for the same thing twice? Literally? Miguel ran into the room, sliding across the floor. There was a moment where he looked up to Y/N, eyes wide and wild. His grin was wide, panting hard with his fangs poking his bottom lip. A flush had bloomed on his face, his eyes blown out like he was on drugs. "There you are," He hissed.

Well. The window it was.

Y/N's sides still hurt from the last time she got tossed out a window. This time, she gave herself the courtesy of bracing herself with her arms, but the glass still hurt like hell. It cut into her arms as Miguel genuinely shrieked, running out after her. There was a moment where Y/N was just in a free-fall, taking a second to reflect on her situation. Did she wake up this morning expecting any of this? No. If she had, she would've texted her neighbour to keep an eye on her fish. But nooo. She just had to get herself mixed up in super-hero shenanigans. She crossed her arms, a petulant scowl on her face. Maybe she still could call to make sure her fish would be okay. Miguel hurtled out the window after her, a hand reaching out to catch the front of her suit. His claws were out, the extra inch and a half proving far more of a threat than Y/N liked. She spun down and webbed Miguel's foot, yanking him down and using him as velocity to shove herself up. He tried the same trick on her, but if there was one thing she had on the 'kilogram of steel vs kilogram of feathers' built Spider was that she was that much faster. She yanked her foot out of the way, webbing to the side of the Spider-Society and slamming into the glass of a floor she'd never even been on before. Miguel plummeted like a brick to the ground, webbing to a building that was that much lower. Y/N had a total of two minutes to decide what the hell she was going to do. So...what was she going to do?

♱ - This is ridiculous. - Come on out. I promise I'll be gentle. - My heart is yours. What more could you ask for?

╰･ 𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙘 ⸜❤︎⸝‍ 𝙢𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙤'𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖 ⨯・ ⨯・@ishqani ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @pix-stuff ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @localdepressedvampire ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @cantchoosejust1 ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @tired-writer04 ⸜❤︎⸝‍ @neteyamsbulletwound

[loving-daisy]

You Had Me At Hello | Severus Snape x Reader

Young Severus Snape never knew what love was. That was until he met her, his Valentine.

YHMAH Masterlist • loving-daisy masterlist

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Chapter 8: Someone Better

Word count: 1,562

Warnings: Mentions of blood, descriptions of injury, slight angst.

A/N: istg this was supposed to be posted much earlier in February but I don't know why it didn't :(

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Severus stumbled into Y/N’s dormitory, the door creaking slightly as he leaned against it for support. 

His clothes were torn, his face battered and bruised, the blood from a split lip still staining the corner of his mouth. His eyes were glazed, unfocused, as though the world around him had blurred into something distant and unimportant. He barely registered how hard it was to walk, each step sending a sharp pain through his ribs, but he continued forward.

Y/N was sitting by her desk, scribbling something in a book, but when the door creaked open, she looked up immediately. Her eyes widened as she saw him, the shock evident in her face.

"Severus?!" she gasped, standing up quickly and rushing over to him. "What in Salazar’s soul happened to you?" 

Her eyes darted over him, taking in the bruises, the cuts, the raw anger—and fear—that radiated from him.

"It was James and his lot, wasn’t it? How dare they! I swear to Salazar, I will make them learn their lesson—"

Severus didn’t say anything. He stood there, leaning against the doorframe, his breathing shallow.

Y/N’s hands curled into fists, frustration flickering across her face. But when she looked at him again, the anger faded into something softer, something more concerned. She sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"I would ask you if you’re okay," she began, her voice quieter now, "but it’s really obvious that you’re not."

She took a step forward, but he didn’t move. "Come on. Let me take you to the infirmary."

Severus blinked, the thought of the infirmary almost too much to bear.

"Listen, I could’ve gone there instead of meeting you here if I wanted to." There was a bite in his tone, but it was quickly smothered by the weariness of his exhaustion. "But I didn’t want to. I wanted to be here with you."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, the familiar sharpness returning to her eyes as she studied him. "Well, why didn’t you?" she asked, crossing her arms. "Why show up here instead of just going to the hospital wing?"

Severus didn’t answer her, couldn’t answer her.

He wasn’t sure why he had come here, only that he needed to be around someone who wasn’t going to treat him like the failure he felt like. He needed someone who saw more than just the broken pieces.

Y/N, sensing that pressing him for an answer wasn’t going to get her anywhere, sighed again.

"Fine. Follow me," she said with a small, resigned shake of her head. "But we’re getting you fixed up first. You’re not getting away with this."

Severus nodded slowly, too exhausted to argue.

"Let me see," she said quietly, her voice gentler than it had been earlier.

Severus reluctantly peeled off the remnants of his robes, exposing the bruises and cuts that marred his skin. She grimaced slightly but didn’t comment, simply reaching for the kit beside her. Her fingers were steady, though there was a subtle trembling to them, like a quiet reflection of the storm she was trying to hold back.

Gently, she began with his arms. The cuts weren’t deep, but the blood had dried, making it harder for her to clean them properly. She grabbed a damp cloth and began wiping the dried blood from his skin. Severus winced as the cloth touched his tender skin, but he didn’t pull away.

Y/N’s eyes never left the cuts, her brow furrowing slightly as she worked.

"James and his lot," she muttered under her breath, "they have no idea what they’re doing. They don’t know the first thing about real fights."

Severus didn’t respond. 

He had long since stopped trying to explain himself, stopped trying to convince anyone, including Y/N, that he wasn’t worth the trouble. 

But her hands were gentle, and the way she was carefully tending to his wounds made him feel like maybe he was worth something. If only for this moment.

The silence stretched between them, filled only by the soft sound of Y/N’s movements as she worked. 

"Your lip’s worse than I thought," Y/N commented softly, reaching for a salve. She applied it to his split lip carefully, her fingers brushing his skin as she did so. The contact was fleeting, but it lingered in a way that made Severus’s heart skip a beat.

Y/N didn’t comment on the awkward silence. She just kept working, wrapping his bruised wrists with bandages, making sure each area was covered and secure.

"Can I ask you a question?" Severus started, his voice almost tentative.

Y/N tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow as if considering the request.

"You already are," she responded.

Severus huffed, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the heavy tension in his chest. “Can I ask two more?” 

Her expression softened with a hint of amusement. “You already asked for one so you have one more left.”

He took a deep breath, the words catching in his throat.

This was it—the question that had been plaguing him for days, the one he wasn’t sure he had the courage to ask. But it spilled out before he could stop it, raw and vulnerable.

"Why—why do you like me?" Severus asked, his voice almost barely above a whisper.

Y/N blinked, her expression faltering for a brief moment.

“Sev-” 

"You shouldn’t like me, Y/N." Severus cut her off, his words more forceful than he intended, but he couldn’t stop them. 

"You deserve someone better. Someone better than me." His eyes dropped to the floor, unwilling to meet hers. 

He could feel the weight of everything he had ever thought about himself—his past, his mistakes, his weaknesses—pressing down on him. 

She deserves better.

He repeated the words over and over in his mind, as if saying them would somehow make them true.

Y/N’s eyes flashed with something akin to frustration, but it wasn’t at him. It was at the way he was selling himself short, the way he was so quick to dismiss the one thing that was real between them.

"Don’t say that!" she exclaimed, her voice firm, yet caring. 

She reached out, gently lifting his chin with her fingers until their gazes met. Her eyes were steady, unwavering.

"I don’t need someone better, Severus," she continued, her voice softening. "And you can’t tell me who I should like! It’s not like I could simply whisper to my heart and convince it to stop liking you."

"But—" he began, his voice faltering, as though he were trying to find the words that could explain away the feelings he couldn’t fully understand.

"I’ve done things... things I’m not proud of. I’ve hurt people... And you—you’re... better than me, Y/N." His voice trembled slightly, the vulnerability spilling out against his will.

"You think you’re the only one with regrets?" she finally asked, her voice calm, like she was speaking directly to his heart. 

"Severus, you don’t get to decide what I’m worth, or who I should like. My heart has its own reasons, its own logic. And right now, it’s telling me that you matter. That I care about you." She paused, her eyes searching his, her voice softer now. "And that’s enough for me."

Severus felt a lump form in his throat. He wasn’t sure what to say. No one had ever told him something like that. Not in the way she had. 

"I don’t deserve you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/N didn’t say anything.

"Are you even sure? Are you sure that you like me?" Severus asked, his voice trembling just slightly. 

Y/N blinked at him, her eyebrows furrowing as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

"Are you doubting me?" she asked, her voice quieter now, almost too calm, like she was trying to hold herself together.

Severus swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his own insecurities clawing at him.

"No," he answered quickly, but the doubt was still there, lurking beneath the surface.

Y/N let out a sharp breath, clearly frustrated by his continued questioning. 

She stepped back slightly, crossing her arms over her chest, her expression hardening just a little.

"Well, it seems like it!" she snapped, her voice rising slightly. "I can’t deal with this right now. I have to go. Goodbye, Severus."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he was too stunned to respond. 

She turned on her heel, her steps quick and deliberate as she made her way towards the door. Severus felt a pang in his chest, a sinking feeling that told him he had just messed up—again.

"Y/N, wait—" he called after her, his voice tight. But she didn’t stop. She didn’t even look back.

Severus sank down onto the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands as the weight of his own mistakes bore down on him. 

Why did I always have to mess things up?

But there was one thing he knew for sure: he wasn’t ready to lose her. Not like this. Not when it was the only thing that had felt real in so long.

And yet, in the silence, Severus couldn’t shake the feeling that, despite all his fears, he might have already lost her.

End of Chapter 8