#POC reader implied

[laddelulu30]

Blind Date Stimulation

A/N: Writing this was exceptionally difficult but I think it came out well. I wrote this for @unintentionalseductress for the “Blind Date Matchmaking”. A thousand apologies, I know I’m a bit late, but I hope you all enjoy the short all the same. I won't bore you with long notes, so I hope you all enjoy…

Your wavy hair is pulled into a ponytail, still somehow curling at the ends. You were dressed in a chiffon A-line summer dress. Lilac. Off the shoulders.

 Looking at your reflection, the lilac looks good against your desi features. But nervous energy still slithers in your veins. 

What if he found you ugly? Not his type? Or worse... a pity date? your thoughts spiraled.

And the more they did, the angrier you got. So what if he didn't? If this date was a failure too, you were determined to simply remain single. In peace with your research and the occasional hiking trip.

Men weren't all the hype anyway.

With one last look, you sigh then leave your condo in Linkon. Walking to a nearby park in tennis shoes that matches your dress and near a body of water, and was lined up with food vendors.

 Couples were already grabbing food and carrying on with their walks. 

Watching them woke a tight pang of longing in your chest, so you decided to look at the setting sun instead. On one hand, you wanted to watch as others interacted with each other and be included. But on the other hand, you enjoyed your peace in seclusion.

You crossed your hands behind your back, then exhaled again, looking down at the ground.

You kicked a pebble, not noticing that someone was approaching you until there was a tap on your shoulder. 

You let out a startled gasp, turning to face the person that tapped you.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you,” says a gentle male voice, followed with a light chuckle. 

Your eyes meet and you falter, frozen as you gaze into his purple eyes littered with stars like an expanding galaxy. 

His eyes widen just as he gets a look at your face,  wonder and awe as he whispers, "Beautiful..." 

Your eyes may have been dark, but with the soft glittering eyeshadow, they were expressive. 

You cough to clear your throat, looking away. Refusing to believe that love at first sight was a thing.

“Sorry, I don't mean to stare,” you say softly, "But you scared me.” 

“That's my fault. My friend, Tara, told me that I could meet my soulmate at the park,” he says with a warm smile. 

Your ears perk at hearing Tara's name. Surely, he must be talking about a different Tara. 

"Um... If I may ask, what else did she tell you ?" you press, trying not to be too nosey.

"She said to look for the prettiest woman here. Ask her if she knew Tara,” he says, his ears turning red at the ends.

“Is that what you were going to ask before I made that horrible squeak?” you ask.

“I was, but your eyes kinda made me forget what I was supposed to ask. Plus, given your reaction, you must know Tara as well. Unless… I just embarrassed myself…” his voice started to fade off into a whisper as he started to feel more and more shy and hesitant. 

"I mean.. what are the odds that we both know a Tara?" you offer, trying to help. 

“Even more if we know the same Tara?” he quipped back.

“She didn't happen to give you a number, did she?” you ask.

“A number?" he echoes. 

"To call. To make sure you got the right person?" 

“Um.. yeah.  Should I call her?”

“You should. Else you've been talking to a complete Stranger instead of the person you're supposed to be on a date with…”

He lets out a sheepish laugh, stepping away to make the call. He's away for a few minutes, and your phone rings.

Tara: You found him?

You: Found who? 

Tara: Your date?

You: Tara?

Tara: Y/N?(She says in mock shock) 

You: What did you do?

Tara: I got you a date. Try it out and if it falls then you can go back to working your butt off. Love you, hun, genuinely hope it works out. Because Simone said you need a man that will blow your back out not ruin your makeup. (the line clicks, ending the call) 

Your face is frozen in shock and the purple eyed hottie comes back. 

“So..she doesn't answer my call. But I’m gonna go out on a limb and say she called you?" He says. 

"Yeah. Love her and Simone to bits but I’m gonna strangle them later."

“And I.. should probably introduce myself, huh?” he says with a light laugh following.

"I should introduce myself too.” you hold your hand out, waiting to shake his. 

"I’m Caleb,” he smiles, grasping your hand firmly. 

His hand is surprisingly soft and calloused. And he smells good. Like spiced apples. Crisp.

Damn Simone and Tara. Where'd they'd even find this guy? He's totally your type.

“I'm Y/N.”  you reply with an answering smile. 

After a moment, you're both still shaking hands. 

“Your hands are soft,” he comments first.

“Yours too, and slightly calloused,” you reply with a laugh.

You both pull away.

“I hope I wasn't too late," he laughs. 

“No, not at all. I came early to look around,” you reply.

“Hungry? We can check out one of these vendors near the water,” he offers.

 “Sure. I’ve never seen these vendors before. But that could be because I mostly work and order take out," you reply. 

“Take-out? Geez. You're missing out on the benefits of a home cooked meal. But these vendors are pretty good. Which one do you want to try?” he says. 

Even his voice is warm and inviting. 

“Well, I’m sure you've tried them. Which one is your favorite?” you ask.

“Hmm? You see that one that has hanging bulbs that look almost like Christmas lights?” he leans in, pointing to the vendor he described.

“Yeah?” you say. 

"Believe it or not, that vendor has the best braised pork belly around and it's affordable.”

"Then let's try it,” you smile, curious as your stomach grows in agreement. 

Caleb pays for the food and you two spend the rest of the evening talking. You and Caleb talk about anything and everything.

And the more you two talk, the more attractive he looks to you.

Time gets away from you and neither of you notice when the park grows quiet. The vendors packed up, gone, and the park goers have gone home. 

"Oh, wow, I've never been out this late before," he says, checking his watch. 

"It has gotten pretty late, hasn't it?” you say, a yawn slipping through.

"And someone is ready to sleep,” he teases then asks, " Would you mind if I walk you home?" 

"I'd love that,” you smile softly.

Cable walks you home. You stand on the mat in front of your door, fiddling with your keys, hesitant to go inside just yet. 

"Would it.. be presumptuous of me to ask you on another date?” Caleb asks, the tips of his ears turning red again as he rubs the back of his neck. 

"You want.. to go on another date?"

"I'd really like to. Unless, I misunderstood that we were getting along well.”

“No, you didn't, I'm just... surprised." 

“Surprised? That I want to go on another date with a super smart, beautiful woman," he grins. 

And I almost melt.

"Well.. When you say it like that.." 

He laughs, “How does this Saturday at 5:30 in the evening sound? We can try another street vendor Or I can look for you in your place?”

"Let’s put a pin in you cooking for me. I'd like to try another street vendor,” you say.

Shyly, he grabs your hand. Softly rubbing your knuckles. Tender and soft. 

"Would it be okay.. if I kissed you?” he asks.

You don't give him a verbal answer, you simply grab the collar of his shirt and pull him towards you. 

His lips meet yours, soft and hesitant. But the kiss grows and he pulls back Placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. 

His purple galaxy eyes sparkle as he gazes at you, “See you this Saturday, my beautiful goddess”

Your heart flutters and your lower belly tightens as he gives you a wink then leaves. 

The date that Saturday passes as pleasant blur, time blending into one until night turns to dusk. With a tease, he walks you home again. 

He asks for another date to which you gleefully accept. And he offers next week in the early evening. And you nod.

You return to  work, powering through it with a frenzy. Urgently trying to complete everything accurately so that there was no repeating and no work left over. 

You fight Wanderers with newfound motivation. You see them as an obstacle. 

A week passes. The dates continue to be just as stimulating as it is fun. Another week turns into 2. Then a month. A year. 

But oddly enough, Caleb doesn't do more than snuggle and kiss when you're in each other's company. 

He respects your boundaries. Almost irritatingly well. He gives you kisses on your neck and forehead. And he's a snuggler, just like you. 

But he doesn't go further. Doesn't initiate. He simply slips out of the bed, planting fervent kisses before pulling away to go to work. 

And honestly... It's starting to piss you off. 

A week later, he's staying the night and you just emerged from taking a shower. You rub oils and lotions into your skin. 

"Y/N, I made a snack. It's on the counter if you want some," Caleb calls from the kitchen.

Unassuming, you walk out from the bathroom, wrapped in your plushy towel. 

You walk into the kitchen, eyeing the “snack" he made. 

A platter of cheeses and crackers with meats. Then a teapot bowling for beverages. A new habit you picked up from Tara. Her suggestion was that it was better for your immune system, a noticeable difference in your energy levels and your pH balance. 

“Hey, I got the tea going that Tara recommend..." he starts to say, then freezes. 

You watch his purple gaze darken at the sight of you. 

You lock eyes with each other, frozen. Neither of you moving a muscle. 

Then he slowly starts walking towards you. His slow steps have you backing up around the island, circling around the it. 

“Did you… come out dressed like that to tempt me?” he says, growling slightly at the end. 

A shiver skitters down your back.

“No…” you almost squeak when he traps you against the stainless steel door of the fridge. 

His hand slowly snakes around your towel clad body, pulling you flush against him. 

His eyes scream wolf, hungry. 

The hand gently grasps your chin, and he leans forward. "Tell me And I'll stop right now," he says, his voice almost a begging whisper. 

Your skin is hot, prickling with awareness. 

“Do you want to go further?” he says, voice a heated whisper and eyes dark with want. 

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. 

"Words, little bird. I want to hear you say it,” he says, his lips are a breath away from yours but he's patient. 

Oh so patient. 

Infuriatingly so. 

“ I do.. so bad” you whisper. 

“I was trying.. to maintain my distance... to be a gentleman,” his words are deep, gravely and somehow soft. 

A warning. 

“Remember.. you asked for this,” he almost growls. 

Picking you up, and putting your 5ft 5 thick curvy body over his shoulders effortlessly. 

You panic. A slight fear that you're too heavy and he might drop you. 

"I lift weights for a reason, little bird. And it's so I can carry you like you weigh nothing. So relax,” he says, his fingers digging into your fleshy thighs as he carries you into your bedroom and lays you on the bed. 

Carefully. As if something precious. Something fragile. 

And although his eyes are dark and swirling with promise, he parts your legs gently. Slowly. 

"You smell so good,” he whispers as his nose glides along the inside of your thighs. 

As he gets closer to the apex of your thighs, you get the sudden urge to close your legs. 

Feeling the flinching in your thigh. Caleb nips on the jumping muscle, "Nuh uh.” 

He delves his nose into your throbbing folds, inhaling. It elicits a gasp from your lips. 

And he places a kiss on your weeping slit. 

“You smell even better here,” he says, a whisper. 

A long, unhurried lick. 

He groans, broken, ”Fuck." 

You whimper. 

“Fly for me, baby,” he whispers and lavishes your cunt with his tongue and teeth. 

Sucking and nibbling. Worshipping like your body was a Deity of his sole reason for being.

You hadn't realized that the long year of teasing kisses had done nothing but edge you on. 

So to feel the unrestrained heat and attentions of his tongue, you were ready to break apart almost immediately. 

“That's it. Let go,” he coos, a soft encouragement, never stopping his ministrations. 

His speed and intensity never changes. And he doesn't stop at making you cum once.  

He keeps going. Determined to have you fall apart beneath him, on his tongue as many times as your body allowed. 

And then some. 

And to think, all of this stimmed from a blind date.

Copywrite: @laddelulu30; Do not translate or copy without permission.

Title Banner: yours truly. MDNI Banner: @jiyascepter

@unintentionalseductress @deepspacenova @jinwoosbabyboo @aeyumicore @reilemon @nebulaeternal @thathuntergirl @brightcolorsare4wh0res @hrhmimieucliffe @uyai1101-lads @chibichibi-mia @jonghyunyourenotmybias

A/N: I wanted to write with my fancy fountain pen and every OCR software acted like it couldn't read my perfectly legible handwriting. So, it was a process to get it up, but I'm glad it came out well. And I love the comments. You guys are so sweet!!

[missacidburn928]

Drabble, Drabble, Drabble

Thor x Nonhuman! Reader

I can’t take my eyes off her. The way she moves her body to the music. Utilizing her curves to paint the most enticing picture. Luring unsuspecting victims in with the hypnotizing rhythm of her hips.

She turns in my direction, and our gaze’s lock. The hunger in her eyes is highlighted by the ring of red bleeding into her iris. Circling her pupils like a warning sign to keep your distance.

Do I heed the warning and keep myself from this otherworldly beauty?

Of course not.

I have faced the most nightmarish creatures the nine realms has to offer. I am sure I can provide her with far better sustenance than any of these mere mortals. Keep her nice and full in more ways than one.

Is that so God of Thunder?

So she can mind speak. A nifty little parlor trick.

No trick. Just a means of safety. Mortals can be extremely volatile under certain circumstances.

When faced with their possible demise any creature will retaliate.

You speak truth. But I have no need for their demise. Just their lust and blood. Give me enough sexual tension to fill my belly and my fangs have no need to puncture flesh. Well, unless…

Unless what?

Unless I want them too of course. I must say your jugular vein is looking rather thick and delicious right now. May I have a taste?

She asks for my permission. You really aren’t like others of your kind.

I find when given freely the blood tastes that much sweeter. So what say you Demi God? Will you help keep me nice and full?

You already know the answer to that when you made yourself known in my mind.

Let’s get out of here then. Your place or mine?

Mine. I would love to see how my teammates react to someone like you.

And here I thought your brother was the only trickster, Odinson.

I learned from the best. My apologies but I do not know your name.

You’ll have to earn that one. My name holds too much power to give it over so freely.

Challenge accepted.

[anastasiabowe]

" WATASHI WA STAR! "

✩ɞ You're a fucking star. And they want a taste of it.

cw. MDNI, [SEPERATE] fan (except Nanami) (Toji, Nanami, Choso, Geto) with celeb reader, female implied reader, mild stalking, POC implied reader (specifically African/African American, but not secluded to such), semi-public sex, caught sex, piv, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected, creep tendencies, squirting. (Ps. Not too much on perspective shifts, I low-key was fighting demons trying to stay on 3rd person perspective but I gave up..sorry..)

wc. 6,776

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☆ backstage pass.

It wasn't every tour you offered such an amazing type of pass for your millions of fans. The back stage pass. You avoided it, you didn't like the idea of people looking at you from behind stage, getting in the way between songs, or even abusing the opportunity. But, when your team pointed out how much money you could make, how this could boost your morale, how could you refuse?

When it was announced that you were offering such a deal, the amount of people who made posts, videos, tweets about it, the amount of people that pleaded in your dm's about you saving them a ticket was overwhelming to say the least. It was mère weeks of the constant buzz about the special pass that was limited to 3 people. The seconds felt like minutes, the minutes felt like hours, the hours felt like days for all the fans who would be coming to your Japan show that was in a couple of weeks.

Launch day was terrifying. The second the tickets went for sale, Ticketmaster crashed from the amount of people trying to fight and pay their way to the special pass. After it was fixed, and the many apologies given from yourself and your team. The first 5 were sold. But so were the 200,000 open seats that very day. Was it record breaking? Nearly, did it break headlines? Definitely.

That was a few weeks ago. Now it's the day of your concert. You weren't nervous, you've done this for years, I mean how could you be? The thing you were slightly anxious about was the 3 fans who'd be backstage with you. They aren't only back stage, they get free food, a meet and greet with you, back stage seats to watch you perform, and they get to listen to your unreleased single before anyone else. What if they were creepy old men who want to hurt you? What if they had a bomb, or gun, and wanted to kill you? Those thoughts ran through your head as someone knocked on your door.

"Y/n? Backstage pass holders are here. It's time for you to greet them." Your manager called through the door*

"Alright, thank you." You shook the nerves and opened your dressing room, following your manager out to the empty foyer except for the single man standing there.

You approached the smiling man. He wore nothing but black, but you could see the small logo of your logo on the left side of his all black shirt, under his leather jacket. It was clearly your merch.

"Hello." You spoke to the man. You studied his face as you spoke. He wasn't half bad looking. He was taller than you, he had well defined muscles under your merch, and he had a scar on his lip. He smirked and looked down at you.

"Hey, princess." He said too casually. You frowned at the nickname, unsure how to feel about it. Your mind didn't like it, but the butterflies that filled your belly proved otherwise.

"Is it just you?" You asked, looking behind him. He chuckled and looked behind and around himself.

"Guess so," he smirked. "Guess it's just you and me backstage." You frowned even more. Damn, now you have to entertain him for the "meet & greet" portion, and after the concert for when he hears your unreleased song. It's going to be a long night.

"Okay, well, thank you for purchasing the backstage pass. You'd be the first to enjoy the luxury." You said plainly, trying to fight the fact the longer he looked at you, the more shy and flustered you felt. Okay, you were lying. This man is hot. You imagined things about him you shouldn't..like how his scar might feel on your-

"princess?" He waved his hand in front of your face, chuckling. "There she is." You blinked and looked up at him. God, why does he have to call you that? It makes you even more flustered and those damn butterflies don't know how to fucking die. Did he even say anything? All you heard or saw was those highly inappropriate and fanciful visions of him and you indulging in- activities.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" You asked, no longer slightly flustered, but very flustered. He had his phone out and looked at you

"Yeah, I said my name's Toji, can we take a photo for my son?" His tone was a bit snarky and I rolled my eyes. He had a kid? I mean, makes sense, who wouldn't want a man like that to get them preg- damnit what the hell is going on with you?!

"Oh, yeah, sure! Just a photo?"

"Yeah, unless you wanna do a video or something." He said nonchalantly. I shook my head. "no, it's okay." He only chuckled at that and positioned his phone to take a selfie. He wrapped his larger arm around your waist and pulled you close, heads touching. He brought his hand to your left tit and secretly placed his hand on there as if he was innocently trying to hold you close. He took a few more and you pulled away, trying to seem unbothered, but damn did that turn you on.

He put his phone away and smiled. He knew you were flustered. I mean it was obvious by how slightly red your face was, even under all that makeup, your ears were a little red. He could tell from the way your eyes flickered to his body as often, if not more often than he did to you. You bit your lip occasionally, and stared at his longer than necessary. He wanted you, and now he can tell you did too, but he wouldn't admit that. He continued to study your body language, and he then noticed, it was almost too discreet to see, but he knew what he saw. You rubbed your thighs together, and not because of how you stood. He knew he had you. The breath y/n was falling for him. If not that, somewhat into him.

"you okay princess? I hope my company isn't...bothering you." He smirked as he stared you down.

"H-Huh?" You stuttered like a damn fool. God, you're the y/n, why the hell is this nobody making you feel this way. Especially this quick! It's been what, maybe 20 minutes, and you're already thirsting over this stranger! Ugh! Get a fucking grip!

"You've been staring off into space, I'm starting to think all that money I paid to see your cute face was f'r nothing." He teased as he crossed his arms.

"No! No, it wasn't for nothing, I'm just a bit..nervous! Nervous for the show, you know?" You tried to lie. It was so fucking obvious you were lying. You've bragged to the world at how comfortable you were on stage and how when you performed for half a million, you were only nervous that you might slip or fall in the heels you wore, but not from the amount of people looking at you. He knew it was a bold face lie, and he found great joy in your flustered state.

"Hmm, is that so? I guess I see no lie in that." He said, emphasizing the lie part. Damnit, now you were aware of the fact he knew you were lying. He definitely knows you're into him. But you can't be! I mean all those dating rumors, fan theories, I mean hell, what if you lose your following!? You sighed. Fuck...why were you giving in so damn easily? Why was he making you feel like this..I mean all he has is a pretty face! And a pretty body..and voic- fuck!

"Uh..what time is it?" You asked, trying to change the subject from the roaring thoughts filling your mind. He laughed and grabbed your wrist with your watch on it. "Hmmm, I wonder princess. It's almost like you have a watch on your wrist." Of course he'd be sarcastic, of course! Just find every fucking opportunity to make you embarrassed, huh?

"O-Oh.. I knew that." You tried to play it off. It was only 5:30, and your concern starts at 7. You had maybe an hour left with him alone before you had to be brought back into your dressing room to get ready for your concert. He continued his grip on your wrist, and that's when he did it. He pulled you to him. Right in the middle of that empty foyer.

"you know princess, I paid a whopping $2000 for this backstage pass. It wasn't easy getting the pass. And it certainly wasn't easy making sure I was the only one you'd be seeing tonight, so I think I should make it worth the money, don't ya think?" He smirked as he said that inches from your face. "You got a room we can go to? So we can..chat a little?"

You knew exactly what he was insinuating. He had you flush against him. He was whispering lowly in that deep, seductive voice of his. He was luring you in, and it was working. You should be pulling away. His wandering hand down to your ass didn't go unnoticed, yet you didn't pull away. You only nodded and that's how you found yourself bent over on your vanity in your dressing room, hair wrapped manically in his thick fingers as he fucked you from behind, forcing yourself to make eye contact with him.

"yeahhh, that's what 'm fucking talking' about." He growled as he stared at your pretty tear stained face. All that damn expensive makeup you wore just for him to find a game in trying to take it off by tears alone was comical to him. Your legs felt like jelly, and the mean arch you were in was borderline painful, but he hit it so fucking good!

"ah-ah-ah!" You cried as his rough thrusts hit deeper and deeper. Your eyes rolled and crossed and molded into hers as you felt him in your gut. He planned this, that's what's so infuriating about this. He had the condoms ready, the fresh tattoo of your name, small, but visible right above his dick. He had all the right things to say and things to do to get you to the point of letting this- stranger fuck you!

"T-Toj-" he cut you off as he brought his lips to your ear in a mean smile as he stared at your tear-stricken face in the mirror. "Shhhh, princess. Just let me take care of you." He chuckled. His hand that was on your hip was now on your breast, fondling and pulling at the nipple. He moved his other hand from your hair to your neck so he could pull you up, and fuck you like that. God you were so hot. He just wanted you all to his self. For 5 fucking years he wanted you. Yeah, it was creepy, maybe just a little, but he never did anything diabolical! He put posters and pictures of you up in his son's room so he has an excuse to see your face. He always saved your photos, screenshot them from any platform you posted them on and put them into a hidden album. He never missed an album or single released from you. He wished he could travel the world with you to see you at every concert you had, but he wasn't a millionaire.

"Love this pussy, love this body, love this voice, and fuck I love you." Any person in their right mind would find his words creepy, but you weren't in the right mind, you didn't even think you had one at the moment. His words only brought you closer to your release. After a while, he let go of your tit and neck and pulled out. He picked you up like a doll and brought you to the couch in the dressing room. He sat down and had his arms around your legs in a full nelson. He inserted himself and began fucking you like that. He let out the hottest groan you've ever heard and you cried from pleasure in this new position.

"Fuck me!" You whined as he chuckled. He grabbed your jaw and kissed you, nothing but spit and teeth as he fucked up into you. He muttered things no woman would want to hear from a stranger.

"Makin' it real hard not to put a baby into you, just so everyone can know you're mine.. maybe take ya home with me, show you off to my kid..you know he'd love it, right? He wouldn't let you go, oh no he wouldn't. How's that sound? Knock you off this high horse your own and mommify you, domesticate you." No, no, no, he didn't mean that, he couldn't have. But of course, you didn't reply. You brain was mush. All these words did were turn you on to the point you came without letting him know.

"Naughty fuckin' girl. Did I say you could cum? So fucking greedy, don't know what to do with ya." He meanly said. He started rubbing your cunt, continuing to fuck you. "Since you like cumming so much, let's just see how much more you can, princess."

Stupid backstage pass.

NANAMI KENTO ☆ post premier.

Oh the actor life. Full of filming, premiers, releases, interviews, fame. You were currently one of the highest trending actresses of 2024. Next to Margot Robbie, Zendaya, hell even Anne Hathaway. You had movies, after movies, after shows coming out for a couple of years, and each a rising hit. You were currently at the red carpet of your newest movie. You wore a beautiful black dress that was tight and long. It had a draped back, that showed off your beautifully toned and clear back. The draped part hung low and perfect right above your ass, and your hair was just as pretty. It was a wig that looked stunning on you. It was long, and the curled layers added to the elegance. You were currently resting your hand on your co-star, Kento. He was new to the acting industry, but any movie you were in with any co-star made every actor seem like an A-list actor.

The paparazzi and journalists loved your chemistry the best. Kento was a fine man. Had good morals, spoke nothing but respect and admiration for you at interviews. He had high respect for you in person with the way he looked, spoke, and touched you. He kept his hands to himself, or at respectable places on your body like your arm, which many other co-stars didn't. If he saw your dress was slipping down too much, or the people taking a gazillion photos of you focused on your chest or lower region, he'd cover it up with his hand or body. Those actions didn't go unnoticed by anyone. Everyone praised and fawned over your relationship. It almost seemed like your relationship in the romance movie was...real.

You and Kento soon began to enter the elegant and high class theater, but before, you were pulled gently by him for an interview with a well known journalist for a well known magazine.

"Kento, y/n. Tell us about the dynamics in your movie before it's released to the public." The Australian man asked, more focused on Kento for the moment.

"Well, our characters are from 2 completely different worlds. Y/n's character is lively, fun, not as well off as my character, but she brings joy to the people around her, like in real life. She brings joy everywhere she goes. My character is more reserved, well off, and a bit more modest and stoic. Much more like myself, I prefer to stay out of the spotlight. I think it's a very common trope in most romance movies, but the plot and acting really make our movie stand out, and I'm excited for all to see." Kento said as he looked at me, the journalist and camera.

"And as for you, Y/n?"

You smiled and looked at Kento. "Just as he said, but I'd like to add that our characters may be completely different, but they fit together so well. I think we balanced each other out quite well, and as you will see in the movie when it comes out, the chemistry between them seems almost fanciful. But I think that's what true love should look like." You smiled up at Kento, and the journalist couldn't even tell if you were actually talking about the characters, or yourselves. He smiled, and nodded.

"Well, we're excited to watch your movie when it comes out." You and Kento nodded as well, and waved as you both began to head into the theater. You kept your hands around his arm as you both walked and he leaned down and kissed your exposed shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He asked as he looked at your face. You looked up at him and nodded.

"yes, I'm excited to watch our movie." You softly laughed as you both and many others including other co-stars and the bits team headed into the theater. You saw a few other celebrity friends of yours, and you waved to them, but you never left Kento's side. You both found your seats and sat down. This might be a late to say, but you and Kento were secretly dating. I mean, that type of chemistry in your movie and person wasn't just good friends, it was the chemistry of lovers. Everyone you knew, knew you and Kento were dating, and they all were respectful and quiet about it. I mean it was almost obvious that you both were dating though. He constantly has his hands on you, even though they could be mistaken for a co-star being kind to their other co-stars, you knew he was just being slightly possessive. He kissed your shoulder often, and when paparazzi or journalists/interviewers were out of sight, his hand wandered to your exposed lower back.

You both weren't hiding your relationship, but you also weren't super open about it because it was your relationship. And you wanted it to be strictly your guys', not the world's.

"I'm nervous about the adult scene." He muttered honestly. You laughed and placed your hand on his. He was so cute, it was hard to believe he'd, such a domestic and masculine man could be so cute. You squeezed his hand and reassured him. "Especially since we know what really went down."

You blushed and nodded. Even though the adult scene was fake, you both were into it, and in the real way. Kento did ask once if the padding they wore was necessary, and the body suit you had to wear to keep the movie 17+ and not rated R. They gave you the freedom to do what you pleased in the general sense of 'making love' and not anything more.

"I think it'll be a good trip down memory lane." You smiled. The director of the movie came on the stage in front of the screen, and gave a synopsis and introduction to the movie. He thanked us all and the movie began. Throughout the movie, many of us actors laughed and smiled about the scenes we were in. Ken often smiled and quickly told me about what he did or felt, or reminded me of the bloopers. I smiled and laughed quietly at his remarks. The adult scene came and passed, and you smiled through it all. Soon the movie came to an end and the theater erupted in claps. You and Ken had rehearsed this moment of where after the movie you'd each give your own person thank you or speech. We both got up and he helped me carefully onto the stage and began speaking.

"thank you all who showed up, watched, and enjoyed the movie. Me, Rayna, our co-star and movie team are so thankful for the opportunity to fill this movie. We hope you all enjoyed it, and will continue to." He continued in thanking individuals for a specific thing and I remained silent and had my hand on his lower back as spoke. He then clapped with everyone else when he was done, and looked at you as you began to speak. Of course, you were starting to tear up like you did with every premier. It wasn't an annoyance, and everyone knew they were tears from how proud you were of everyone and how you always have some emotional tie to the movie or show you filmed. This one was different though, because you found a lover through it. For the first time.

"I just want to thank Ken. I mean, I've done movies like his for years, and I've never felt this way for a co-star. He is brilliant, kind, hardworking, and caring, and I wouldn't wish for someone better. This is his first movie, believe it or not, and I'm so proud of him. I'm proud of everyone, but I'm proud of him." Everyone clapped and you laughed as he pulled you into a hug. You cried into the hug and everyone clapped and cheered.

After the premier, you and Kento were in the car on your way back to your house. He wanted to celebrate with you for the movie. There were already good remarks from critics, and the movie is already trending without even being out. You reached your mansion, and entered the cold but warm place. You got out of your dress and into more comfortable clothes. Ken as well.

You both sat on your couch and enjoyed some wine and champagne. You sat there in his shirt and panties. He in a shirt and his dress pants from the evening. You smiled as you both sat there in comfortable silence.

"I'm so proud of you, love." He finally said. His eyes were staring ahead as he took a sip from his glass. "So damn proud of you." He then looked at you and smiled. You smiled back.

"I'm so proud of you. You made this my favorite movie I've ever filmed."

"And you made my first movie the best movie I've ever filmed." He said warmly, setting his glass down, and taking yours from your hand, setting it down. He pulled you into his lap, straddling him, and wrapped his arms around you. He buried his face into your neck and sighed contently. You threaded your fingers in his blonde locks and rested your head on his.

He softly moaned to the feeling of your fingers in his hair, and gently kissed your chest over the shirt. You smiled, and settled further into his lap. He groaned slightly and gripped your hips. "Don't move like that, love, you know it was hard enough to keep myself under control when you were in that dress.

"We're alone now, what's there to hold back?" You smiled mischievously and slowly began to grind on him. He groaned again, and looked up at you, once neat and smooth hair, now messy and fluffy. His eyes bore into yours as he groaned again. You looked down at him and bit your lip with a smile. "What's wrong, ken?" You asked innocently.

He chuckled and shook his head, pulling you down on his clothed cock harder. "You know, y/n, that adult scene gave me ideas." He muttered as he ran his hands over your waist. "How it must feel to just make love..all night." You blushed at his words.

"Y-Yeah?" You stuttered as your face felt warm.

"yeah. I think we should try it again but for real this time." He smirked. "How's that sound, love?"

You felt impossibly warmer. You guys never 'made love' quote on quote. You didn't fuck either.. you guys barely made it past kissing and dry humping, so now he wants to make love. I mean, who were you to refuse.

"I would like that, ken..a lot." You smiled. He smiled back and nodded. He then began to kiss your neck gently, pressing warm but cold and wet kisses to your neck. His hands slipped under his shirt (that you wore) and caressed your soft body. You moved your head to give him more access, and you softly moaned. He gently pulled the shirt over your head, exposing your body, now only in the black panties you chose to wear. He marveled at your body, eyes never leaving your chest. He smiled, and moved his kisses from your neck, to your collarbone and below. He took his time with you. He wanted you to feel his love for you, every single drop. His kisses were deliberate and targeted. His kisses made your tummy heat up, and thighs wanting to close, but his legs which you were sitting on prevented such.

"K-Ken-..more please.." you muttered as your hands gripped his hair tighter. He nodded and gently bit your chest. "As you wish love." He had his hands on your hips as he laid your nearly naked body onto the couch. He slipped off his shirt, and undid his pants, sliding them down. "Tell me what you want, love."

No, no, no.. not this, please. You internally begged. You hated when he did this, you just wanted him to touch you where it hurt, where it begged for him. "Kennn!" You whined. He knew what he was doing! He smirked. That damn smirk that makes you melt and fold in ways no other man has ever gotten you to do. He chuckled and leaned down to kiss your lips. "I'm sorry baby, you know how I am. Tell me what you want, and you'll get it, I promise." He smiled as he almost babied you, which you really didn't mind.

"Mmm, touch me..down there.." you muttered, now feeling shy. He smiled and brought his hands to your lower stomach. "Here?" He smiled. You whined and he chuckled. "You gotta be a little more specific love, there's a lot "down there"."

You huffed and wrapped your legs around his waist. "Kennn! You know where!" He tried to act like he didn't and you groaned. "I wanna feel you in me!" He chuckled and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "Better." He then hooked his fingers into the panties, and pulled them up your legs, you immediately unlocking them from his waist so he could pull them off. He pulled off his boxers as well, his angry tip slapping against his stomach. You looked down at his cock, it was so pretty. You've only seen it once before, but not for something like this. He reached into his wallet which was in his pants pocket and pulled out a condom.

"No." You sat up and grabbed the condom, throwing it away from you both. He looked at you with furrowed brows. "Honey?" He asked confused why you did that. You now felt sheepish but you stayed firm. "I-I want you inside.. I wanna feel all of you."

"Are you sure?" He asked carefully. He was hoping you were sure of what you were implying. He had no problem with it, but it could lead to a longer term issue. A child. You nodded and locked your legs around his waist again. "I'm sure, now please put it in..I just wanna feel you, that's all, please." He couldn't say no to that cute face. Your cute body, he just couldn't. So he lined himself up, and remained hovering over you.

"Take some deep breaths, love." He whispered as he slowly inserted his thick tip. You gasped and held onto him, arms wrapped around his neck and back, nails scratching. He paused and waited till you calmed down before he slowly inserted himself. He was so thick, and long, and God did it feel glorious. When you gave him the okay, it was like a whole new world was opened. You weren't new to sex, you've had a few hookups throughout the years, but they were never this intimate, this intense. Kento cared about you and your well-being over his own pleasure, and to be honest, you think he finds pleasure in your well-being! He grunted as his pace increased and each grunt sent another deep pang of butterflies into your tummy. You moaned and whimpered into his ear at how good he felt. It was so overwhelming that a tear slid down your cheek. No words were said throughout this moment. He kissed your tears and lips. He kissed your nose and cheeks. He loved you, but he wouldn't say it until you did. He didn't wanna scare you off.

He hit so deep, and the mixture of pleasure, and security you felt made it 10x better. "K-Ken- fuck, it's so good, it's so, so, good, please don't stop." You cried as he continued his pace, increasing the speed of it slightly. He felt himself letting go, but he couldn't do it before you, he couldn't.

"sweetheart, you-fuck, you close?" He groaned as he felt himself too close. You whined and nodded. He tapped his shoulder repeatedly as you came and that's all it took for him to come inside. He captured your lips in a kiss as he fucked you both through it. It was too good, too fucking good, and you both felt it. He pulled away slightly to catch his breath and he chuckled.

"I'm hard again."

CHOSO KAMO ☆ cute stalker.

There you were. Walking through all those paparazzi wannabe's. They wish you looked at them like you did him. They wished you got on your knees for them like you did him. They wanted to be him so bad, your lover. Except, you didn't even know who he was. You never met him, seen him, touched him. It was all in his head. Choso wasn't crazy, he swears he's not. He just likes every photo, video, interview you were in, your account or not. He would constantly buy new phones from himself constantly breaking them from throwing them from seeing you with another man. He wanted you all to his self.

He wasn't crazy, he swears he isn't. He just wants the love of his life all to himself, that's all. I mean how could he not, you were beautiful, and you always look at him, every time you follow him you see him, you smile and wave at him. No you didn't. He follows you and whatever way you look and he happens to be secretly stalking you from, he thinks that's you looking at him. But, you have met, once. At your meet and greet. He was so excited to see you, and he did, but he let something slip out that got him kicked out. He said he'd kill for you. He was dead serious, but he didn't mean he'd ACTUALLY kill FOR YOU! He just meant he'd protect you. But there's been too many cases of celebrities being killed by crazy fans who have the "if I can't have you, no one will" mentality. But he'd never kill you, he wants you for real and not in the afterlife.

So here he was, deliberately walking towards you, pushing past paparazzi, and straight to you. He was nervous. The bouquet in his hands, the chocolate in his other. The large teddy bear with your name on its tummy squeezed tight to his chest, he was ready. But just as he was about to reach you, he was yanked away by a security guard. The security guard threw him into the wall yelling at him to step away. He cried out, and you widened your eyes at the contact. You pushed the security guard away and rushed to him despite the other security stopping you.

"Are you okay?! Why the hell did you do that!?" You asked Chris, and yelled at the security. The security didn't look sorry for hurting Choso, but a bit startled at your yelling. You gently brought your hand to the back of his head which was bleeding from the impact, and frowned. You gathered the flowers that thankfully stayed together, the chocolate, and bear and handed it to him. "I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

He didn't take the gifts and nodded. "Those are for you..and I'm okay.." he was fighting tears, but not from pain, from you being so close to him. His dream girl. You smiled at his words on how those gifts were for you. You looked at the bear and clutched it to your pretty chest, oh the chest that he'd bury his face in for decades. He stared at your pretty face as you talked to him. You were inviting him to eat with you, but all he heard was "bla bla bla, I love you, bla bla bla." He'd probably explode if his head wasn't elsewhere at your invite. You noticed his dazed expression and softly laughed, tapping his cheek.

"hello?" He shook himself out of his fantasy and looked at you when you got his attention. "Do you want to have lunch with me? To apologize for what my security did?" Did he hear you right?! The paparazzi was continuously snapping photos of them, but he didn't care. He nodded and smiled, with your help, stood up. You were slightly shorter than him, and he couldn't help but find you adorable as you held his hand and pulled him into the restaurant you were going to dine in. It was a celebrity restaurant meant for no flash photography or paparazzi in general. You got a table and sat across from him, your security remained at the table next to you.

"I'm really sorry about that, your head is bleeding.." I frowned when I looked at my hand which touched his head a bit ago. He waved you off, too focused on your casual beauty. He knew you weren't wearing makeup, and how cute you looked without it. You let him order whatever he wanted, and you smiled and chatted with him. Each sentence, word, syllable that came out of your mouth made him even more obsessed with you. All those months of following you did not go in vain. It was all worth it. This would be a life lesson to you all who read this, good things comes to those who wait.

You found yourself finding the man kind of..cute? He had this cute purple hue under his eyes, and his 2 spikey buns were adorable. He smiled and was attentive to you, and you couldn't help but enjoy his company. You must have enjoyed it too much, because here you were, in the bathroom of that restaurant sucking him off.

"Aha, y-y/n.." he moaned your name as you licked and sucked his cock. It was so good, so yummy. You enjoyed the feeling of it laying heavy in your mouth. He thought he was dreaming, the delusion finally winning, but no, here he was getting head from his favorite actress. You brought your tits to his cock, and began pushing them together and squeezing his cock with them. He didn't know what to do with his hands. Does he put them on the sink, or does he put them in your hair? You smiled up at him so devilishly that he chose the latter. You stuck your tongue out, and licked his tip with every up and down you made your tits go. Almost like a premature teen, he came over your tits and onto your tongue, chin, collarbone. You continued to stroke him, and licked up his mess.

"Mm, so pretty."

GETO SUGURU ☆ chauffeur.

You've gone through driver after driver, but they all weren't like Geto. He was your personal driver, went everywhere you did. He knew the routes you liked, he knew how to keep you entertained. He understood you when you complained to him. He was always on time to pick you up and drop you off. He knew how you liked the car you were in, the right temperature, whether you wanted the windows down or not, he also knew what Spotify playlist you'd be into, which was usually your songs. But also, he knew he was in love with you.

He always remained respectful of you, cheeky yes, but never crude or creepy. He complimented you, helped you into the car and out, always saying something about you being a "princess". He loved driving for you. He loved that you loved him driving for you. He knew he was a shoulder for you to cry on, and that's why you usually always confided in him, no matter how long the drive. You also sit in the front more often than not. Most people don't do that, but he makes you feel welcome in the front, and you like sitting in the front.

You soon found yourself way too comfortable with him. He practically was your boyfriend without the touching and title. You told him about your period, your cravings, your needs, desires, wants. You've talked about your body and how you love it or hate it. You complained to him about sexual frustration. It wasn't like you had to tell him any of that, you certainly didn't. You had many friends who you could tell that too instead, but there was something about him that was so inviting. He's also confided in you too. He talked to you about this girl he liked and how he wanted her. He talked to you about his hair and how he's happy you like it long. He's let you even do his hair in long traffic stops. You guys were like lovers without being official.

But you'd be a damn fool to say he wasn't attractive. You found yourself almost excited when he honked the horn every time he waited for you outside, or how upset you'd be when he didn't pick you up and someone else did instead. You found yourself staring at him and imagining how it'd feel for you to grip his hair as he hugged you, or did other activities. You wondered if he would be into hair pulling, or if he'd be into other things. It was inappropriate, it was weird, and it definitely wasn't the cause to the fact you're riding him in the backseat of your limo.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Geto repeated as you hopped on his dick. You tugged his hair as you rolled your hips and slid up and down his lengthy cock. He captured your left tit into his mouth as his hands remained firm on your lower ribs. You moaned as your legs burned, but the feeling of his cock inside you overpowered all your senses and you prevailed. You never lent up as he has came many times, you just as many. He was completely pussy drunk off of you. Soon enough, he couldn't handle it anymore and came again. You moaned and giggled as he came inside you, you enjoyed the feeling, and your body shivered at it. You continued to grind down fervently. He let out the hottest whimpers and groans as you fucked him dry. You soon came and slowed down to a stop. He held your front to his tightly as he shook from how much he came.

"W-want to taste you.." he shamelessly admitted, pulling you gently off of him, and laid you in the gap between the driver and passenger seats so he could eat you out. He let out a shaky breath as he looked at your soppy, creamy cunt, mixed with his and your juices. He pressed his nose and lips to your cunt and began gently sucking and licking you clean. His tongue slapped up every juice from you. You moaned and your legs shook at the overstimulation. He didn't even realize how good you tasted till he found himself panting as he continued to desperately eat you out. You let out a scream in pleasure and pulled his hair.

"G-Getooo! T-too much~♡!" He groaned and continued to eat you out. He inserted his middle and ring finger and began fucking you with them. You squealed and he smiled. You tried to push his head away, legs kicking and shaking as you felt your release again.

"S-Sugu-ahhh!" You shook as you came again, your juices sprayed against his face and he let out the hardest groan, cumming himself simply from eating you out. He slowly licked you clean and pulled away, hair a bit wet from you squirting.

"First time you've given me a ride." He chuckled, kissing your thighs.

"it definitely won't be the last."

[heartsforrain00]

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐲ō𝐦𝐞𝐧 - 𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜é !

warnings : Sukuna has never celebrated Valentine’s Day at all, he spoils you, you two end off the night with sex, jealousy - a servant tries giving you chocolate, killing, true-form! Sukuna, he has two cocks, and can spawn tongues anywhere, he overstimulates you, pet names - princess, ‘pet’, he calls you wife even though y’all aren’t even married yet. Mating press, breeding, DP, P in V, public sex, and more that will come up. afab!reader implied, female pronouns, poc!reader.

(a’s note ! - there’s porn links hidden in here, hope you find them ! y’all gonna be reading books at night so ima say this now, y’all got light, idk how but yall got light.)

𐙚 It was February 14th. Which meant it was Valentine's Day, so you decided to decorate one of the many rooms throughout the household that Sukuna said you could use whenever you were mad at him.

you knew he wouldn't really care for this type of stuff since he always said it was ‘foolish mortal stuff’ but then again he did celebrate everything with you if you asked nicely, or threatened him. Only he knows when he wants to be nice to you.

“wife. what are you doing?” you hear sukuna say from behind you, you don’t jump or anything you’ve gotten used to him appearing out of nowhere. “I’m decorating Ryõmen, what does it look like?” You question.

Ryōmen remembers when you two were being so affectionate, he love when you two are getting it on and that’s always what causes him to zone out when he’s looking at your sweet ass. “What? Don’t get smart with me brat.”

He simply rolls his eyes and walks over towards you. “we’re going out tonight. Be ready in an hour.” He says, not allowing you to respond before he leaves back out.

𐙚 You got ready in that hour he gave you, wearing a dress he had recently brought you. “Ryōmen. What do you think?” You question, spinning in a circle as you approach him. He just gave you a small nod, before fixing his tie and turning to you, he thought you looked beautiful.

He planned to take you to a restaurant, and afterwards he was going to take you to the beach, of course at a time when no one else was there that way he can be alone with you, though of course he would never act on it without you consenting.

He would hope you wouldn’t be a brat tonight, that way he doesn’t have to gag you like usual during your little acts. “Ryōmen! I’ve been calling your damn name for ten minutes, are we leaving or not?” You question, finally seeing him snap out of whatever daze he was in. He just nods, and grabs your hand, taking you outside to the car.

One of the driver’s opens the door for you and him, and allows you two to get in the car, before going back to the driver’s side and driving off to the restaurant. Once the car stops, Sukuna puts a blindfold over your eyes and leads you inside the restaurant. He sits you down before taking off the blindfold.

It was a neatly decorated Valentine’s Day themed booth, that he personally decorated just for you, he wanted everything to be perfect just for you. “Do you like it wife?” He questioned, sitting down as he puts the present he brought you on the table and pushed it towards you.

You nod and begin to open the present, pausing before you continue to ask for confirmation to open. He gives you a small nod, gesturing you to open it for him. you listen and begin to open the present. It was a camera, a promise ring, a new bathing suit, an anklet with his initials and yours, a necklace with his initials, and earrings.

“Oh! This is quite a lot, but thank you Ryōmen, I love you so much.” You murmured, storing it in the bag he brought with the two of you. He just grunts and orders the two of you food, allowing you to get whatever you want.

𐙚 After you two ate, he took you to a nearby beach. Now you see what he brought you a new bathing suit for. you take the bathing suit and go change, it wasn't as windy as it normally was tonight.

When you finally came out the bathroom, he had set up multiple towels so you two would be comfortable. He was currently sitting down on the towels, his head resting on his arm as he read the book he brought along.

He looks up, seeing you finally came out the bathroom, he moves the book, and pats the spot next to him, signaling for you to sit down. you sit down next to him and hum.

“took you long enough brat, now you wanna go get in the water with me or you wanna stay here?” he questioned, waiting for your answer before getting up, all you did was stay seated as a single you wanted to stay at the towels. “Let’s stay here.” You say, laying on your stomach as you began to read a book.

He felt horny just looking at your backside. He hums and grabs you and forces you onto your hands and needs. “Can I?” He questions, waiting for your nod of approval. And you give him the nod of approval.

He grins and pulls down your underwear, and pushes down his boxers and swim shorts. He does a few lazy strokes before positioning himself at your entrance.

You let out a moan, allowing him to push himself inside of you as you two fucked in a public space. Luckily no one was around. His hands gripped your hips, trying to angle himself deeper inside of you as just you just hoped your arms wouldn’t give out or your legs in this moment.

“Feeling good?” He questioned, as he bent down and covering your neck in kisses. You just let out a moan mixed with a shudder. Of course you felt good, he was fucking you so nicely on the beach, you didn’t have a care in the world if you two got caught.

He just kept thrusting until you came on his cocks, eventually cumming right after you did. He picks you up, wraps a towel around you and puts you in the car as he grabs the rest of you guys' stuff and goes to the car.

He mumbles an I love you to you, and allows you to fall asleep on his lap until you get home. Once you two get home, he washes you up and lays you in bed. “Happy Valentine's Day, my wife.”

He lovesssss when your small body is taking his big cock.

Sukuna might have to put a baby in you after all.

You were needy while in the car so he fucked you while you two were being driven back to the mansion.

EDIT: pretend this was posted on Valentine’s Day at 12am !!

Tagged: @babyblue0t7 - technically another part to the other things since I never did Sukuna 💗 Oops.. you already saw it😭😭

[bimbodolllll]

Hi koli i saw your request were open and was wondering if you could do a Tokyo revengers x reader (final timeline) where they have a baby and they say their first word with preferably: chifyuy, kazutora, baji, mikey, izana, rindou, shinichiro and any others you would like to include

۶ৎ. Babies First.

Tokyo Revenger Boys.

۶ৎ auth: ahhhh omg my first request in like so long, I’m actually so excited to work on this!!! Feel free to request any anime, show or movie, and any character!! :) I might make a taglist.

۶ৎ Summary: After so much back and forth to fix the future, you’ve finally settled down—and finally had a baby. The joys of parenthood only continue and your baby says their first words.

۶ৎ: sfw | scenario | fem reader | babies/parenthood | fluff | time skipped | implied poc reader, though you could ignore the information that doesn't fit you.

۶ৎ Characters Included: Chifuyu Matsuno, Kazutora Hanemiya, Baji Keisuke, Manjiro (Mikey) Sano, Izana Kurokawa, Rindou Haitani, Shinichiro Sano, Kokonoi Hajime, Ken Ryuguji.

۶ৎChifuyu Matsuno

It’s an ordinary evening, and Chifuyu sits with the baby on his lap, his calm, logical demeanor softened by the tiny bundle in his arms. His black undercut, neatly styled, contrasts with the gentle warmth that radiates from him as he softly coos at the little one, a sense of peace enveloping the moment. The baby’s big, curious eyes stare up at him, the faintest glimmer of recognition in their gaze.

You’re nearby, watching quietly from the kitchen, as usual, keeping a close eye on the small family gathering. The baby shifts slightly in Chifuyu’s arms, their little hands reaching out, exploring, unsure of the world but finding comfort in the familiar presence of their father.

Chifuyu looks at the baby, a tender smile creeping across his face. He’s normally so composed, always the steady one, but this… this softens him, makes him feel an unfamiliar kind of warmth. “Come on,” he murmurs softly, “say something for me.”

The baby babbles incoherently for a moment, small giggles escaping their lips as they grab hold of his finger, wrapping their tiny hand around it like it’s the most important thing in the world. Chifuyu chuckles, shaking his head softly. “You’re as stubborn as your mom,” he says under his breath, smiling at the thought of you.

Then, suddenly, the baby’s little voice breaks the silence. It’s not a full word, but there’s a clear attempt to speak. “Da-da!” the baby declares proudly, their voice high-pitched but full of delight. Chifuyu freezes for a moment, his face lighting up with surprise, a hint of pride showing in his usually calm features.

You, hearing the unexpected word, laugh softly from your spot, watching the exchange. Chifuyu’s usual composed self cracks for a brief moment as he stares down at the baby in awe. “Did… did you just say ‘Dada’?” he asks, though it’s clear he’s delighted.

The baby repeats it again, this time with even more enthusiasm, “Da-da!” Chifuyu shakes his head, a small laugh escaping his lips. “Guess I’ll take that as a victory.”

You walk over quietly, your heart swelling at the sight of Chifuyu, who’s always so composed, now with the smallest of smiles, cradling their child with complete adoration. The baby, seeing you, reaches out with their tiny arms, making a soft noise of recognition.

“Looks like you’ve got competition,” you tease, leaning against the doorframe, your voice light and playful.

Chifuyu’s face turns slightly red, his calm demeanor returning, though the smile still lingers. “It’s just a fluke,” he mutters, though it’s clear he’s overjoyed. The baby giggles again, the sound filling the room, and Chifuyu leans in, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead. “I can’t believe you said ‘Dada’ first,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of affection.

The baby, oblivious to the momentous occasion, just giggles again, content in the safety of their father’s arms. It’s a simple, tender moment, but to Chifuyu, it’s everything.

۶ৎKazutora Hanemiya

The air is still, heavy with the calm that comes with the evening as Kazutora sits on the couch, a small, fragile smile on his face as he looks down at the baby resting in his arms. His long, black hair, streaked with yellow, falls lazily over his shoulders, the strands a contrast to the tenderness with which he holds the child. There’s an unfamiliar peace in his expression, a quiet moment of solace after all the chaos that’s filled his life. His usually volatile demeanor seems distant as he looks at the little one, their soft breaths the only sound between them.

You’re just a few steps away, your presence like a gentle echo in the background, keeping watch as Kazutora carefully adjusts the baby in his arms, the kind of delicate handling that surprises even him. He’s never been one for softness, always pushing against the world with a hardness that left little room for gentleness—until now. He looks down, eyes tracing the baby’s tiny hands, the little fingers wrapped around his own with surprising strength.

The baby stirs, their wide eyes blinking up at him, and Kazutora’s breath catches slightly in his chest. For a moment, it’s as if everything else—the turmoil, the chaos, the memories—fades into the background, leaving only this quiet exchange between father and child.

Kazutora’s voice is soft, almost hesitant as he speaks to the baby, a far cry from the manic energy he once carried. “Hey, little one… can you say something for me?” he murmurs, his voice filled with a quiet kind of longing, though it’s not for the world outside—it’s for this fragile connection he never thought he would have.

The baby, in their own way, tries to respond, making gurgling noises that grow into more distinct sounds. Kazutora watches in silent anticipation, a rare, genuine smile creeping onto his face as the baby’s mouth moves again. It’s almost as if they’ve been waiting for the right moment to speak.

Then, with a bright, innocent giggle, the baby suddenly blurts out a word, though it’s not what Kazutora expected. “Dada!” they say, the sound coming out in a clear, high-pitched tone.

Kazutora freezes, his eyes wide in disbelief for a second. His heart lurches unexpectedly in his chest, and he looks down at the baby as though they’ve just given him the most precious gift. His expression softens, a deep and almost bittersweet tenderness settling in his gaze. “Dada…” he repeats under his breath, as though trying to wrap his mind around it. There’s a tremor in his voice, something raw and vulnerable that he doesn’t often let surface.

You can’t help but smile as you watch the moment unfold, the baby’s innocent giggle filling the room, unaware of the weight they’ve just placed on Kazutora’s heart. Kazutora’s fingers twitch slightly as he holds them closer, his past, his pain, his regret all swirling beneath the surface of this simple, unexpected moment.

The baby, sensing the comfort of Kazutora’s embrace, reaches up with their tiny hands, trying to grab at his face. Kazutora laughs softly, the sound foreign yet warm as he leans into the baby’s touch. “You’re gonna make me soft, huh?” he mutters, though there’s no bitterness in his words—only a quiet affection.

You step forward then, offering him a soft, knowing glance. Kazutora looks up, his eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, everything between the two of you seems to settle. There’s a flicker of something deeper in his gaze, something that says more than words ever could.

Kazutora’s voice breaks the silence, still low and almost tender. “I never thought I’d be here, y’know? This… this feels different.”

You smile gently, watching him with the baby in his arms, a sense of peace settling over you both. The moment is fleeting, but it’s a reminder—Kazutora, despite his past, is finding something he never thought he deserved.

۶ৎBaji Keisuke

The night is quiet, the soft hum of the streetlights casting a dim glow in the room where Baji sits, his wild, untamed jet-black hair falling to his shoulders in loose waves. His usual grin is absent for the moment, replaced by a look of calm as he watches the baby in his arms, who is squirming lightly, their little hands reaching up as if trying to make sense of the world around them. There’s an intensity in Baji’s eyes, but it’s not the usual fire of a fight—it’s something softer, something that only surfaces when he’s with his family.

You stand by the doorway, leaning against the frame, quietly watching the scene unfold. Baji, who is always full of energy, the type to jump into action at any given moment, seems almost frozen in this moment, the wild spark in his eyes replaced by a rare tenderness as he holds the baby close to his chest.

The baby gurgles softly, their small face scrunching in curiosity as they look up at him. Baji’s lips twitch into a small smile, but it’s different than his usual mischievous grin—it’s something warmer, more protective. “What’s going on in that head of yours, huh?” he murmurs, his voice low and warm, though a hint of his usual playful nature is still there.

The baby babbles in response, their little voice almost a melody as they stare at Baji with wide, innocent eyes. And then, as if on a whim, the baby utters a word. It’s clear and unambiguous, the word they’ve been practicing, but it’s not what Baji expected.

“Dada!” The word rings out, not perfectly clear, but undeniably present.

Baji’s eyes widen, and for a moment, his usual grin falters, replaced by something almost vulnerable. He looks down at the baby, his hand resting gently against their tiny back, and the slightest breath escapes him. His fingers twitch as if unsure how to react to the sudden surge of emotion he didn’t anticipate. His heart pounds, a rush of warmth flooding through him, and despite all his bravado, there’s a crack in the tough exterior.

You smile, stepping a little closer to them, your heart swelling at the sight. “Looks like you’ve got a little fan there,” you tease softly.

Baji’s grin slowly returns, though it’s softer now, not the usual wild energy that so often defines him, but something more intimate. He leans down, his sharp canine teeth flashing briefly as he chuckles under his breath, the sound light and full of affection. “Yeah, I guess so.” He says it with his usual swagger, but it’s evident that something about the moment has shifted. This isn’t a victory he expected, but it’s a victory that matters more than any battle.

The baby reaches up toward his face, their tiny fingers brushing against his cheek, and Baji’s heart skips a beat. He looks at you for a moment, a wordless exchange between the two of you, before he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead. “Good job,” he mutters, his voice soft but steady.

You can’t help but watch the moment unfold with a quiet admiration. Baji, the wild, adrenaline-fueled force of nature, has just experienced something that slows him down, something that pulls him out of the chaos of the world and into a simple, pure connection. The baby giggles, their tiny hands grasping for his hair, and Baji laughs too, the sound genuine and full of joy.

For a brief moment, the world outside seems distant, and all that matters is the little family in that room—the wild heart of Baji, softened and made whole in the presence of his child.

۶ৎManjiro (Mikey) Sano

Mikey sits in the quiet of the living room, the soft hum of the clock the only sound besides the gentle breath of the baby in his arms. His short, dark hair is parted neatly at the middle, the weight of the world outside this moment temporarily forgotten. The familiar carefree energy that Mikey is known for seems absent now, replaced by a tenderness he rarely shows. He’s holding the little one close, his hands steady and secure around them, the once-unshakable pillar of Toman now softened by something unexpected.

The baby stirs in his arms, their small face scrunching in confusion as they try to adjust to the world around them. Mikey watches them with a faint smile, though there’s something more complex behind his eyes. The carefree grin that usually defines him is replaced by a quiet focus, a vulnerability that he seldom allows others to see. His heart is heavy with thoughts of the past, of everything he’s lost, but in this moment, the baby offers him something pure, something he hasn’t had in a long time—peace.

The baby’s tiny hand reaches up, grasping for the fabric of his suit, their tiny fingers curling in and out as if trying to touch something they don’t fully understand yet. Mikey’s breath catches in his chest, his gaze softening. He can feel the warmth of their small body, the innocent trust they place in him without question, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of his own burdens lifts just slightly.

“Mama?” The baby says, the word coming out softly but unmistakably.

Mikey freezes. The sound is far from perfect, the baby’s voice still nasally and unsure, but it’s clear enough, and Mikey’s heart skips a beat. He blinks down at the child, his expression flickering between surprise and a strange tenderness, something unfamiliar and soft that he never expected to experience. His hand twitches, fingers tightening around the baby instinctively as if protecting them from the world outside.

You, standing nearby, catch his gaze, the understanding between the two of you unspoken. Mikey clears his throat, the faintest hint of a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he glances at you, trying to regain some of his usual bravado. “Guess that’s not the word I was hoping for,” he says, his tone playful, though there’s a depth to it, a warmth he’s not used to showing.

The baby reaches up again, this time grasping Mikey’s finger, their touch delicate yet insistent. Mikey smiles softly, the usual coldness in his eyes replaced with something warmer, something that speaks to the weight of the love he’s learning to give. “It’s okay, little one,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Maybe next time, huh?”

He presses a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead, his lips lingering just a little longer than necessary. The moment feels suspended in time, as if the world around him has faded and all that matters is this—the small, fragile life in his arms and the quiet peace they’ve brought him, in spite of everything he’s carried.

You step closer, watching the scene with a soft smile of your own. Mikey looks up at you then, his expression still soft, but now there’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. He may have once carried a darkness that threatened to consume him, but here, now, with his child in his arms, that darkness feels far away, as if for a brief moment, he can just be… Mikey. The Mikey who is a child at heart, who’s capable of tenderness and love even amidst the weight of his past.

With a soft chuckle, Mikey leans back slightly, his hand still holding the baby close as he looks at you with a playful glint in his eyes. “You heard that, right?” he asks, his voice teasing but there’s something vulnerable in it too. “They said ‘mama.’ Guess I’m off the hook for now.”

You laugh, the sound light and full of warmth. Mikey’s grin widens just a little, and though it’s not the wild grin of a fighter or leader, it’s something just as genuine—something that feels like a promise, a reassurance that even with all the darkness he’s faced, he’s finding light again. And maybe, just maybe, this little one is part of that light.

۶ৎIzana Kurokawa

Izana sits in the dimly lit room, the soft hum of a guitar string resonating in the air. His large purple eyes, usually cold and calculating, are softened by the warmth of the baby in his arms. His wavy hair falls gently around his face, the strands catching the light as he adjusts the baby’s tiny body against his chest, the faint scent of plants and the soft ripple of water from the fish tank nearby offering a peaceful backdrop to an otherwise chaotic life. He had never imagined this—holding a child, one so small, so fragile in his arms. His usual detachment feels muted, replaced by a strange sense of responsibility, a sensation he’s never quite allowed himself to experience before.

The baby stirs in his arms, eyes blinking open and gaze unfocused, their small hands reaching out in curiosity. Izana’s usual composure doesn’t waver, but the faintest trace of tenderness lingers in his gaze as he watches the child, something unfamiliar surfacing beneath the layers of bitterness and coldness he’s built over the years.

The baby makes a small noise, a soft whine, their lips twitching as they try to vocalize something. Izana tilts his head slightly, his eyes narrowing, waiting. His fingers gently caress the baby’s back, an instinctive gesture of care that surprises even him. In the silence of the room, a soft and tentative word escapes the baby’s lips. It’s not quite clear, but the intention is unmistakable.

“Dada.”

Izana freezes. His grip on the guitar tightens for a brief moment, his eyes blinking as he processes the sound, the word hanging in the air like a sudden, unexpected shift in his world. It’s simple—just one word—but for someone like Izana, who has spent most of his life surrounded by cold, violence, and manipulation, hearing such a soft and innocent utterance stirs something deep within him.

A flash of his past flashes through his mind—the loneliness, the bitterness that once consumed him. He had never felt a connection to anyone, certainly not like this. He had always been the one to push people away, to make himself unapproachable, but here, in this moment, the baby’s small hand wraps around his finger, their soft grip a reminder of something pure, something he had lost long ago—the ability to care without expecting anything in return.

He exhales slowly, his face betraying nothing but the faintest softness that only the baby could elicit from him. His hand gently lifts the child, their eyes still wide with curiosity, before he leans in close, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead.

“Dada, huh?” Izana murmurs, his voice quiet but not without a hint of amusement, the corners of his lips turning upward in a small, unexpected smile. It’s a rare sight, one that doesn’t appear often, but in the quiet presence of the baby, it feels more natural than anything he’s ever known. “Guess I’m not as bad as I thought,” he adds softly, almost to himself.

You, standing nearby, watch the scene unfold with a knowing smile. Izana doesn’t often allow anyone to witness such moments, but here, now, with the child in his arms, the pieces of his past—the anger, the bitterness—seem to fade into the background, if only for a moment. Izana looks up at you then, his eyes softer than usual, as if silently asking for your approval, for reassurance that he’s doing this right. That he’s not as lost as he often feels.

He doesn’t say anything more, but the warmth in his eyes speaks volumes. The man who once sought power, control, and dominance has now found something far more valuable—a sense of purpose, a bond he never thought he would have. As he looks down at the baby, his grip tightening slightly around them.

۶ৎRindou Haitani

Rindou sat on the floor of the living room, legs stretched out, his back against the couch, the afternoon sun casting long shadows through the windows. His pinkish-purple mullet, with its dark blue roots and tips, was damp from a shower, strands falling messily around his face. He had a lazy, almost indifferent expression as he stared at his phone, absently scrolling, but his free hand rested on the baby seated between his legs, offering a steady support as they clumsily played with a soft, squeaky toy.

The baby babbled, gnawing on the corner of the plush thing, drool soaking it thoroughly. Rindou, ever stoic, just watched, raising an eyebrow whenever the squeak got too loud. His black stud earrings caught the light, a stark contrast to the rough Bonten insignia tattoo inked boldly across his neck.

“You’re gonna drown in your own spit,” Rindou muttered, lifting the baby gently by their underarms, pulling them up into a wobbly stand on his thighs. The child stared back at him, wide-eyed, chubby cheeks flushed. Their little fists grabbed at his shirt, seeking balance, and for a moment, there was a quiet exchange—a softness that rarely found its way into Rindou’s life.

The baby blinked, their gaze fixed on Rindou’s face with intense concentration, like they were processing something far too big for their small brain. And then, out of nowhere, they let out a small, clear sound.

“Dada.”

Rindou froze.

The word was soft, tentative, but unmistakable. His blue-gray eyes snapped to the baby’s face, as though he wasn’t sure if he’d actually heard it. His normally stoic expression cracked, a rare flicker of surprise flashing across his sharp features.

“What…?”

The baby blinked again, almost as if testing the sound, and with a little more confidence, repeated it.

“Dada.”

This time, it wasn’t a fluke.

For a solid five seconds, Rindou just stared. The usual snarky, blasé attitude was nowhere to be found—his mouth slightly open, the baby still gripping his shirt tightly, unaware they’d just done something monumental.

A scoff broke the silence, but it was soft, almost disbelieving. “… No way.”

He tried to play it cool—but there was no hiding the way his lips twitched, threatening to pull into a smile.

“You’ve got shitty taste in first words,” he murmured, lifting the baby higher until their noses nearly touched. The baby, delighted with their new word, kicked their legs happily and repeated, “Dada,” with even more enthusiasm, like they knew they’d hit gold.

Rindou exhaled sharply through his nose, something warm and unfamiliar blooming in his chest. He glanced toward the hallway, as if making sure no one else was around to witness this moment of weakness.

“Yeah, yeah,” he whispered, giving in as he brushed his nose against the baby’s cheek, the smallest, almost imperceptible grin forming on his lips. “I hear you. I’m your ‘Dada,’ huh?”

The baby squealed, a high-pitched giggle, and Rindou couldn’t help the quiet chuckle that escaped him. He was used to fights, to blood and bruises, to commanding fear—but this? This was different. And for once, he didn’t mind losing. Not to them. Not to this.

۶ৎShinichiro Sano

It was a quiet afternoon at the Sano bike shop, the scent of oil and metal lingering in the warm air. The faint sound of a wrench clinking against the concrete floor echoed through the open garage, where Shinichiro Sano sat cross-legged, lazily working on a motorcycle engine. His unkempt black hair stuck out in random directions, and a cigarette hung loosely from his lips, the thin tendrils of smoke curling upward.

He wasn’t in any rush—never was, really. Dressed in his usual pearl-white shirt and light-washed jeans, a jacket lazily tied around his waist, he looked as effortlessly relaxed as ever. A silver chain peeked out from beneath his collar, catching the sunlight every now and then.

Nearby, his daughter sat on a thick blanket, surrounded by a mess of soft toys and teething rings. She was barely old enough to crawl properly, but that didn’t stop her from making every effort to squirm toward her father, her tiny hands grabbing at the air.

Shinichiro glanced over at her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his thin lips. “You getting bored over there, sweetheart?” His voice was raspy, warm, and effortlessly gentle as he set the wrench down and wiped his hands on a nearby rag.

She responded with a string of baby babble, half-formed sounds that made no sense but filled the space with life. He watched her, enchanted by the simplest things—how her little fingers curled and uncurled, how her eyes, a perfect mirror of his own dull black ones, lit up every time he spoke.

“Hold on, hold on. I’m comin’.” Shinichiro stubbed out his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, rising to his feet with a lazy stretch. He scooped her up effortlessly, holding her against his chest, her small hand immediately tangling itself in the fabric of his shirt.

“You smell like motor oil,” he murmured with a chuckle, kissing the top of her head despite the mess on his hands. “Not exactly the ideal dad scent, huh?”

As he swayed gently, rocking her out of instinct more than anything, the baby stared up at him, wide-eyed and thoughtful, her chubby cheeks flushed pink from the warmth of the afternoon. She blinked slowly, as though studying him, her tiny mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something.

And then, soft as a whisper, it happened.

“…Da…da…”

Shinichiro froze.

The word was faint, breathy—so delicate he almost thought he’d imagined it. His heart skipped a beat, a strange, unfamiliar warmth surging through his chest.

“…What?” His voice came out quiet, almost disbelieving, as he pulled her back slightly to look at her properly. “What’d you just say?”

The baby blinked again, her expression pure and innocent, and as if sensing his awe, she tried again, this time stronger, more confident.

“Dada.”

Shinichiro felt something inside him break wide open.

He laughed—not his usual lazy, carefree laugh, but something softer, shakier. “You serious right now?”

Her tiny hand reached up, grabbing at the silver chain around his neck, and for once, Shinichiro felt completely helpless—in the best way possible.

“You’re not supposed to say that yet…” he whispered, though the grin on his face betrayed him completely. His thumb brushed gently over her round cheek, his eyes shining with a tenderness so deep it made his chest ache.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m your ‘Dada,’” he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers, closing his eyes as he breathed her in. “Lucky me.”

The bike shop, the tools, the cigarette smoke—none of it mattered in that moment. All he knew was the weight of his daughter in his arms, her tiny voice calling out to him, grounding him in a way nothing else ever had.

And for the first time in a long while, Shinichiro felt like he truly had everything he could ever want.

۶ৎKokonoi Hajime

The city skyline glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Kokonoi’s penthouse, casting long shadows over the sleek, minimalist living room. The distant hum of traffic blended with the soft jazz playing from the speaker, creating a calm, almost surreal atmosphere.

Koko sat cross-legged on the floor, dressed down in black sweatpants and a plain white shirt, his silver-white hair loose around his shoulders. He had a glass of whiskey beside him — untouched — as he watched their daughter with that same quiet intensity he reserved for high-stakes meetings… except this was different.

She was sitting in the middle of a plush play mat, surrounded by a chaotic scatter of toys, a stuffed bunny half-chewed, and a colorful book she had zero interest in. Her soft hair fell over her round cheeks, and she looked up at him with wide, thoughtful eyes — eyes that mirrored her mother’s so distinctly that Koko sometimes forgot how to breathe when she stared at him like that.

“Pretty, aren’t you?” he murmured, a faint smile touching the corner of his lips as he leaned back on his hands. “Got that from your mom… lucky kid.”

She babbled in response, smacking the bunny against the floor with impressive determination, her little brows furrowed as though she were solving some great mystery.

Koko’s gaze softened, a rare warmth breaking through his usual cool composure.

“You’re really giving that thing a hard time,” he remarked, watching her with a mix of amusement and fascination. “What did it ever do to you?”

She paused, blinking up at him, lips slightly parted, as though she was about to say something… but instead, she dropped the toy with a dramatic flair and crawled toward him, tiny hands smacking against the polished hardwood floor.

He sat up straighter, heart giving an odd little skip — not that he’d ever admit that.

“You comin’ over here?” he asked quietly, more to himself than her.

She reached him, pulling herself up with clumsy determination, her chubby fingers grabbing a fistful of his shirt as she balanced on unsteady legs. Koko’s hands hovered near her waist, ready to catch her if she wobbled too much.

And then, she looked up at him… and with a small, clear voice, said:

“Da…da.”

Koko blinked.

For a moment, he thought he’d imagined it. The word was soft, delicate, but unmistakable. His throat tightened, the glass of whiskey forgotten entirely.

“What… what did you say?” he asked, his voice lower now, almost a whisper.

She stared up at him with the same serious expression, as though this wasn’t a monumental moment — just another part of her day.

“Dada.”

The second time, it hit him harder.

A sharp inhale, and then — to his surprise — a soft laugh escaped him, the sound rough and disbelieving.

“You—” He ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to ground himself. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

She, of course, said nothing. Just continued to stare at him, her tiny hands gripping his shirt like she had no intention of letting go.

“First word, huh?” Koko said, his voice softer now, almost fragile. “And it’s me…”

Something in his chest ached — something he hadn’t felt in years. He thought of how, for so long, he’d believed everything important in his life slipped through his fingers, no matter how tightly he held on. But here she was… holding onto him.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he whispered, brushing a gentle hand over her soft hair.

She leaned forward, her head resting against his chest in a way that made his heart squeeze painfully.

“I should tell your mom,” he murmured, though he made no move to get up. “She’s gonna want to hear this…”

But he didn’t. He just stayed there, holding her, listening to the quiet rhythm of her breathing, as though he was afraid to break the spell.

“Dada,” she mumbled again, sleepily this time, as if testing the word.

Koko closed his eyes for a long moment, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head, the faintest smile on his lips.

“Yeah…” he whispered. “I’m your Dada.”

And for once, there was nothing else he needed.

۶ৎKen Ryuguji

The rain tapped lightly against the windows, casting soft shadows across the small but cozy apartment. The scent of warm tea and baby powder lingered in the air, a comforting mix that made the place feel lived-in — loved.

Draken sat on the floor, back against the couch, his long legs stretched out, and their daughter nestled comfortably between them. His strong, calloused hands were gentle as he helped her balance, her tiny fingers grabbing at the hem of his patterned jacket with the determination of someone on a mission.

“Steady now, princess,” he murmured, his deep voice softer than usual, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched her.

She had her mother’s eyes — there was no denying it. That same soft, soulful gaze that could stop Draken in his tracks, no matter how tough he tried to act. The resemblance was almost eerie, especially when she stared up at him with that thoughtful, almost knowing expression, as if she could see right through him.

“You’re gonna be a heartbreaker, you know that?” he teased, running a hand over his buzzed undercut, the dragon tattoo on his temple stark against his skin. “Just like your mom…”

His daughter, of course, was unimpressed. She was too busy trying to pull herself up, grabbing at his jacket with clumsy determination, her chubby legs wobbling as she straightened herself.

Draken arched a brow, watching her with a mix of amusement and quiet pride. “Look at you… tough little thing,” he muttered. “Didn’t get that from her.”

She babbled something incoherent, rocking back and forth on her feet, her lips forming shapes that almost sounded like words.

“Yeah?” Draken chuckled, leaning in closer, his braid falling over his shoulder. “What are you tryin’ to tell me, huh?”

She paused then, swaying slightly before gripping his jacket tighter. For a split second, Draken thought she was about to fall — his hands twitched, ready to catch her — but she steadied herself, blinking up at him with wide, serious eyes.

And then…

“Da…da.”

Draken froze.

The word was soft, barely more than a whisper, but it hit him like a punch to the gut.

“What…?”

She said it again, clearer this time, her small voice filling the room in a way that made the air feel heavier.

“Dada.”

Draken stared at her, his heart pounding in a way he hadn’t felt since his gang days. His throat tightened, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure what to say — wasn’t sure if he could say anything at all.

“You…” He swallowed hard, his voice rougher now, a little hoarse. “You just—”

Before he could finish, she took an unsteady step forward and fell right into his chest, her tiny arms wrapping around him as best as they could.

“Dada,” she mumbled again, her voice muffled against his shirt.

And that… that broke him.

Draken closed his eyes, his large hand cradling the back of her head as he held her close, his thumb brushing over her soft hair. The warmth of her small body against his made his chest ache in a way he wasn’t prepared for — a deep, protective kind of love that scared him more than any fight ever had.

“Yeah…” he whispered after a long moment, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, his voice softer than it had ever been. “I’m your dad…”

He stayed like that for a while, holding her, feeling her small breaths against him. He didn’t call for her mom — not yet.

This moment was his. Just for now.

[baby-yongbok]

What Are You Looking At?

Dom!Seungmin x Sub!Fem!Reader

-`♡´- Genre: Smut, some plot mostly porn

-`♡´- Summary: One question turned into an entire scene

-`♡´- Word Count: 3.9k

-`♡´- Warnings: Dominant/Submissive Dynamics, Hard Dom Seungmin and a bit of Dom Hyunjin, Choking, Slapping [for a second] , Degradation, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Mentions of other members relationships, OT8 are involved, Previous consent implied, use of sex toys in public, Aftercare [Some on screen, more implied off screen] (Sorry If I missed any)

-`♡´- A/N: This was something that I've wanted to post for a while but I just never got around to editing it until now! I hope that you enjoy! And yes the reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡. This fic was 100% self-indulgent and contributed towards my Seungmin Brainrot

❥ Names Used Towards Reader: Slut, Pathetic, Pitiful, Whore

-`♡´- Masterlist -`♡´-

It’s not everyday that your boyfriend invites you to be his date to an event, so when Seungmin invited you to attend one of the many events to promote the new album with him and his members, you excitedly accepted. It’s been a while since you’ve all gotten together and any day with all of the boys is more than entertaining so you found yourself getting more excited than usual for this event. 

Of course, Seungmin had one condition when he invited you, he had to pick out your entire outfit. It was a fairly upscale event so formal attire was the only appropriate choice. You knew the moment that he requested to pick out your outfit that you’d be matching your man, it’s something that he loves but will never admit. He loves when the two of you look like a couple and carry similar visual energies. 

Your outfits were fairly basic. He had a white dress shirt and black slacks with small more flashy designer elements incorporated into the outfit. For you, he picked out a black gown of the same brand that he was wearing. It’s his go to dress for you to wear at events when he wants you to be on everyone’s radar. When he wants the two of you to be eye-catching and wants every single person in the room to eye the dips and curves of your perfect plush figure.  

There was one condition to your outfit though, a dare of sorts. 

“Why are these here?” You asked as you looked over the outfit laid out on your bed. The soft black panties with the built in vibrator along the gusset were resting on top of your velvety black gown.

“Ah, right, I wanted to propose a little game for the night.” You eyed Seungmin through the bedroom mirror as he fiddled with the glossy buttons of his dress shirt. “ You wear those and let me control them throughout the night. If you hide it well you get to be in charge tonight.” 

Your face lights up at the sound of his offer. You’ve been begging him to let you dominate him in bed for months but he always turns you down.  

“If you make it too obvious or get caught in any way then I get to use you all night.” He turns to face you, slipping a hand into his pocket. “And I can use any toy that I please.”

You suck your teeth at him, he’s been itching to use the new spreader bar that he ordered a month ago since the day that it arrived. You weren’t sure about it when it got here and you still aren’t very sure about it now. Of course you think that it’ll be fun to use but you know Seungmin and you know just how rough he likes to be when you aren’t restricted by any toys or rope so you can only imagine how it’ll be when your legs are permanently spread open for him. You think for a second, trying to weigh your options but the thought of being able to be in charge of him for a night is way too tempting to pass up. 

“Deal.” You smile, holding out your pinky finger and he copies the action twisting his finger around yours and leaning in for a swift kiss. 

“Good luck, I’m not gonna take it easy on you.”

“Would it be so horrible to let me be in charge?” You scoff as you slip the panties on, aligning the vibrator to rest against your clit and folds comfortably. 

“Nah.” Just as you move to pick up your dress a deep vibration rumbles through your core and a gasp leaves your lips followed by a choked moan. You glare over at your boyfriend, his hand is in his pocket, most likely holding the tiny remote, and there’s a devious smirk resting on his lips while he watches you. “I just figured that if I’m gonna do it I should make you work for it.”

“You’re not gonna break me.” You roll your eyes as you push your thighs together, the vibrations stop abruptly and you let out a breath that you weren’t even aware you were holding.

“You know that I love a challenge."

You were more than excited when you saw all of the boys, but they seemed ten times more excited to see you. They updated you on everything that they could think of from games that they’ve started playing, songs that they started writing, and Hyunjin even let you get a sneak peak into his art folder on his phone. Of course, Seungmin decided to torture you in the most delicious way the entire time, but much to his dismay, you held your composure, even with him whispering pure filth into your ear all evening. You’ve been through your fair share of edging and teasing since dating Seungmin so a game like this was nothing compared to the countless times that you’ve begged and cried on his cock after being fucked for hours on end. He’s the type of dominant that takes pleasure in training his submissive and you’re the type of submissive that loves to do everything so perfectly that it’s almost infuriating, especially for someone like Seungmin who has a thing for taming brats.

“Can I have a coffee too?” You asked as you sat between Hyunjin and Changbin. Your boyfriend only glared at you as he stood from his seat and made his way over to the coffee machine to make himself a drink. You try your best to hide your smirk as you push your thighs together. He's being extra mean to you today and all of the guys have noticed it. They’ve all been extremely nice to you to make up for it but what they don’t know is that this is all a part of Seungmin’s game. He knows that you’re an absolute slut for degradation and that each nasty word and eyeroll is getting under your skin and sending a shock right to your clit but to the guys the two of you are just having a bad day. 

Changbin puts in his request right after you and follows by repeating your question but he’s met with silence just as you were a second ago. Instead of answering either of you, Seungmin starts talking to Jeongin about something that you’re barely paying any attention to as he makes everyone a drink except you, allegedly. 

You zone out as Changbin starts messing with Hyunjin, he’s teasing him about something random and the sound of them laughing registers as a distant echo as you take the time to admire just how good your man looks right now. You’ve seen Seungmin in more suits than you can count but there’s something about what he’s wearing tonight that has you in a choke hold. Maybe it's the perfect fit of his pressed dress shirt or the way the fabric of his dress pants stretches over his thighs. It could also be the fact that you’ve been edged by these damn vibrating panties for the past two and a half hours. You sat through an entire press conference as your boyfriend messed with the tiny remote in his pocket, watching you from the corner of his eye and stopping the vibration right when he saw your eyes roll back or noticed your balance become a bit unsteady. 

 You watch him as he takes out his phone and glances over at you for no more than a second before looking down at his screen. The micro interaction snaps you out of your daze and you pull your attention over to Changbin as you try your best to focus on anything else.

“You looked so cute on the stage, Hyunjinnie.” Changbin continues to tease the man next to you as he reaches behind you to pinch at his cheeks. Hyunjin moves away, dodging his hand and looking down at his phone, most likely to text his girlfriend who’s a close friend of yours. You smile to yourself since you’re the one who introduced them to each other and played cupid for a bit until they fell for each other.

“Binnie, he’s gonna keep ignoring you if you don’t -” You’re cut off by a loud gasp that catches Changbin off guard and startles Felix who’s sitting next to him. You clear your throat and shift in your seat a bit, trying your best to calm down as the vibrator buzzes against your core at its highest setting. Once you feel that you’ve settled a bit you glare over at your boyfriend with the calmest expression you can manage to keep. He stares back at you, matching your expression with a hint of a smirk on his face. 

"What are you looking at?" The slight smile on his face contradicts the bite in his voice and you find yourself pressing your plush thighs together again. The pressure against your clit pushes you closer to your orgasm but that’s the last thing that you want to do. You can’t cum here in front of all of his friends, not because it would be embarrassing, the two of you have talked about putting on a show for his friends for a long time and you’re more than into it, but if you cum right now in front of everyone you’ll lose the game. There’s no way that you’re losing this. 

"Seungmin, stop being so mean to her, what's up with you two?" Hyunjin tries to come to your defense, pushing his phone into his pocket and glaring at the younger member as you choke back a moan.

"She's a slut." His tone is flat like he’s speaking a well known fact.

"Hey, whoa why would you say that?" It's Changbin's turn to defend you, he sounds more than fed up with the attitude that your partner has had towards you today. Gosh, if only he knew the half of it.

"Because it's true, you're a slut aren't you?" Seungmin turns his attention towards you, taking a couple of steps forward and standing with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches you hold back. He notices every slight raise of your eyebrows and the way that you lightly bite at your bottom lip, he knows that he’s winning. All movement in the room comes to a subtle stop as the members watch the situation unfold in front of them. You can hear the door open and close quickly and you assume that what was left of the staff decided to give you all some privacy, thank gosh.

"Seungmin, seriously, stop it." Chan speaks up as he makes his way to the side of the couch that you’re sitting on with Changbin and Hyunjin. Your boyfriend is way too invested in you to heed his warning, he’s way too focused on winning to care about what anyone else says. He rolls up his sleeves further before kneeling in front of you and grabbing your jaw harshly. 

“Look at me.” You swiftly fix your gaze on him, earning more of a smile from the dark haired man in front of you. You can hear Han, Jeongin and Minho protest the harsh action in your defense. They all turn their chairs to face the two of you and Changbin moves over a bit to give you some room between him and Hyunjin. 

“Seungmin seriously.” Chan protests again, putting his hand on the younger member's shoulder but he swiftly shrugs it off, never taking his eyes off of you. 

"Tell them." You whimper at his request as you bat your thick lashes at him. Your glassy doe eyes tell him everything that he needs to know, He’s studied every single part of you, every move and every sound. You’re trying so hard to keep it in but your sub space is setting in heavy especially with all of these eyes on you, it just turns you on ten times more. You’re a sucker for being a good girl for your man especially when there’s an audience.  

"I'm a slut." Your words come out in a gasp as a tear trails down your cheek. The vibration abusing your clit feels so much more intense as your vision becomes hazy and your body starts to feel like it’s floating. Seungmin’s fully smiling now, admiring how pretty you look in your headspace. Since you’ve slipped into yours it’s time for him to fully slip into his. He’s in full dominant mode now, he’s hyper vigilant, using his extensive knowledge of you to lead him through the scene. Han stands from his seat, looking over the younger man's shoulder, unsure of what to say. 

"Tell. Them. Now." A small yet firm slap to your cheek punctuates each word that comes out of his mouth and you can hear Felix’s deep voice start to protest before it’s cut off by a deep moan leaving your parted lips. It feels like the air in the room thickened as soon as the sound registered, you blink a couple of times as you try to think of a way to cover it up, maybe you can say that you’re just kidding, maybe you can say that it was all a filthy prank. Maybe you’ll just ignore Seungmin’s orders, you need to win this game, there’s no way that you can lose.

Your thoughts are racing at a hundred miles per hour, but the moment that your eyes meet your partner's brown ones again, you cave. You crack completely, slipping deep enough into your sub space to be at his mercy. You know that he’d never put you in an unsafe situation and you both have even spoken to the guys about letting them sit in on a scene between you and him some day, you just didn’t know that today would be the day, to be fair none of them did, not even Seungmin.

"What the fuck?" That’s all that he can manage to think of but instead of answering him Seungmin waves at him dismissively. 

"Shh you'll miss the best part." His eyes stay on yours as he watches you slip and even through your hazy state you don’t dare to break his gaze.

"Color?" Changbin furrows his brows at the question that leaves your boyfriend's lips and Hyunjin raises his. You mumble a weak ‘green’ and you can hear your boyfriend confirm your response faintly before you turn your attention back over to your rising orgasm.

"No fucking way." Hyunjin scoffs in disbelief, a surprised yet entertained smile on his face. 

"Looks like you got caught." Seungmin teases as he exchanges looks with Hyunjin, the only other open and proud dominant in the room. Since you introduced Hyunjin to your close friend who is now his girlfriend and submissive, he and Seungmin have often talked about having semi-public scenes with their partners in front of the other members. Hyunjin swore that he'd be the first to do it but it looks like Seungmin beat him to it. 

"Pathetic isn't she?" Seungmin asks towards Hyunjin and he clicks his tongue in response. 

"Absolutely pitiful." 

"Why the fuck are you guys doing that? She's fucking crying for Christ's sake." Minho makes his way over to stand next to Chan and at this point there's an entire circle around the two of you. Hyunjin watches you with curious eyes and an amused grin as you press your plush thighs together which truly isn’t helping the violent pulsing of your clit against your panties. 

Seungmin watches you too, keeping note of your reaction and searching for any signs of discomfort. Once he's sure that you’re fine he lets go of his grip on your jaw and you whine at the loss of contact. You’re way too far gone to care about how you look or sound now, all that you know is that you're absolutely desperate for release and you’ll do anything to get it.

"You guys don't believe that she's a slut?" The room is quiet in response to Seungmin's question as they all watch her. Now they're catching on. "Watch."

Seungmin's hand cages your neck swiftly, pinning you against the curved back of the couch. His grip is light at first as he only applies a soft amount of pressure to the sides of your throat but you can feel his grip gradually become more intense with each passing second and you can’t help the whining moans that escape you as you fight the urge to rut your hips into the air as your dripping pussy clenches around nothing. 

"Seungmin, what the -'' Changbin is cut off by a loud whiny moan escaping you once Seungmin hits the pressure that you go dumb for. You lose your self control almost instantly and give into your horny desire to rut your hips into the air, desperate for any type of friction. 

"Such a whore. You want to cum?" You shake your head as best you can with whines falling from your lips uncontrollably. "Hyunjin, countdown from five."

"I'd love to." Hyunjin, turns more towards the two of you to get a clear look at the desperation on your face with each number that passes.

 "Five” He waits for a couple of seconds too long, clearly teasing you. Your friend did say that he could be a tease. You just wish that you weren’t finding that out right now. “Four...Three.”

He rests his chin in his palm, pretending to be bored with the task despite the smirk on his face “Three and a half....Two....hm where was I?"

Seungmin chuckles at your frustrated whine as Hyunjin fake pouts towards the two of you.

"Better start over to be sure." 

"I think you're right, let's see." Hyunjin takes a deep breath and you can’t help but to let out a deep desperate cry as tears flow down your cheeks. You’ve been holding back for so long that it feels like every inch of your body is on fire. You know the rules: If you cum without permission you get punished. Seungmin’s punishments are anything but fun. He has a talent for coming up with the most grueling punishments that could ever cross a dominants mind. You’ve learned to love them in a strange way but you’ve already lost the game, you don’t want to give him more to look forward to tonight. 

"So pretty when you cry" Seungmin smirks at Hyunjin’s comment while the others around them simply watch in aroused confusion. They haven't taken their eyes off of you since the beginning and they wouldn’t dream of even blinking now.  

"Alright so let’s do it nice and slow this time. One, Two, Three.”

“Three and a half.” He pauses, closing his eyes to ‘think’ for a second “Four....Four and a half.... Hmm.”

“What's after that?" Seungmin teases in mock confusion and Hyunjin shrugs as he looks around at the other members who now seem more than entertained by the game the two are playing.

"Mm, I don't remember. Do you remember, Felix?" Hyunjin asks the blonde sitting next to Changbin as he shifts his gaze fully towards you so that he can admire the way your eyes roll back as your body practically shakes with anticipation. Seungmin loosened his grip on your neck a couple of seconds ago but you haven’t stopped moaning and whimpering ever since he first touched you. 

"No clue." Hyunjin smiles as Felix plays along with him and Seungmin’s game.

"Hm, what about you Chan? Do you remember what comes after four?" Seungmin looks over at his elder, giving him a slight head tilt to confirm that he can truly answer. The once confused but now fully aroused member takes a second before replying. He looks over at you before finally saying the very thing that you’ve been dying to hear

"Five" You gasp in excitement as your lidded eyes meet the lust glazed ones of your partner. It’s almost like you forgot that everyone else was in the room. All that mattered was Seungmin and you only wanted to hear him say one thing.

"Lucky girl" Seungmin pulls you forward by your neck, the harsh movement makes you drag out a loud and lazy moan. "Cum."

Without so much as a second thought you’re letting go in front of everyone. You’re shaking, crying and gasping like a fish out of water as your orgasm rips through you like the venom of a vampire. You lean forward into Seungmin as you grid your cunt against the couch and rest your head on his shoulder. He moves his hand from your neck to your back as he rubs soothing circles into the velvet fabric of your dress. 

“That’s my girl. Sounds so pretty, did so well.” Everyone watches as they weave through various stages of amazement and disbelief as you come down from your high.

Once he sees that you’re riding out the pleasure Seungmin reaches into his pocket to turn off the vibrator. You pant against him, small whimpers escaping you as tears roll down your cheeks. 

“Han, would you pass me a water bottle please?” He does as he asks, leaning over a shocked Minho to reach for the water bottles on the table and handing one to Seungmin.

“I’ll get you your coffee and then I’ll hold you alright? Can you wait for just a second?” He whispers in your ear and you nod against him the best that you can. Usually he’d ask you to use your words but he figured that he’ll let it slide this time.

 Seungmin gives you a soft kiss on your cheek before leaning you back against the couch. You nearly fall over into Changbin who holds you up awkwardly before Hyunjin moves in a bit closer to you. He gives Seungmin a look, asking for permission to touch you which your partner swiftly allows before standing from his spot in front of you and moving back to the coffee machine. He rolls up his sleeves that have fallen down a bit as he starts the machine again and starts to make your favorite aftercare drink. 

Hyunjin puts his arm around you and he allows you to rest on his chest, he rubs up and down your arm and whispers to you to try and ground you a bit. This isn’t the first time that you and Seungmin have done a scene with Hyunjin so he’s no stranger to the type of aftercare that you receive. The rest of the boys look between your limp body resting against your friend and your boyfriend who’s nonchalantly operating the coffee machine while they  quietly try to put the pieces together and figure out exactly what they just witnessed. Seungmin feels the burning stares on the side of his face as he waits for your glass to fill and turns towards his members with a straight face. 

"What are you looking at?" No one responds, they all just stare between you as they open and close their mouths and try to figure out the right question to ask while attempting to hide their aching hard ons. The room stays quiet until Jeongin sighs and stands from his seat.

"Is anyone going to ask what the fuck just happened or is it going to have to be me?"

[Note: In a healthy BDSM dynamic or scene all members involved should consent before hand. This is a work of fiction and is no way a representation of what real ethical scenes should look like unless there are clear boundaries.]

[skzfairyyydreamz]

Christmas Gingerbread Competition w/ Bsf!Skz!!🎄

Genre: SUPER CRACKED Silly Goose Humor, text post/SMAU

Pairing: OT8 Bsf!Skz x y/n (in my mind reader is written as a POC but technically none of the dialog implies it, so not much of a difference)

Synopsis: its really just a group of friends teasing and shit talking each other MAINLY SEUNGMIN!!😂😂

Warnings: PROFANITYYY (the usual), one teeny weeny suggestive joke (!!MDNI!!) , gay jokes (please take no offense to this as i am of the fruity bunch myself) 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 all pictures are from Pinterest!

A/N: MERRY BANGCHANMASSSSS !! MWAH!! 🎄🫶🏼💋

Taglist: @hanniemylovelyquokka @milknhoneyracha @tinyelfperson @jiisungllvr @imastraykidsfan@simpracha @turtledove824  @laylasbunbunny  @armystay89  @eclipsemina @4ln-stay8@aalexyuuuhm @scribblesnsketches05 @amarecerasus @euphoric-univers @stellasays45 @night-storm7 @vixensss @blossomlilly @jc003 @hanniesbubuwife @beccaskz@soyeonbean @kawaiijellyfishtimetravelr @chuuyaobsessed @estella-novella @gabriellamarie@livelaughloveskzmwah @thatshroomiegirl @flowerbunnii @whoa-jo @babygirlskz98@leftenemydestiny @dazzlingjade @hyuneyeon @nightmarenyxx @slayyparkjimin  @aliceskzfan@velvetmoonlght @here-to-read-and-read-fics @akira-yan @realrintaro @mafiulaputaama (plz lmk if you would like to be removed or added)

[rafeyswrd]

HER ROYAL HIGHNESS

benedict bridgerton x princess (poc) reader

prologue.

After a series of agonising years of begging her mother to be let out into society — as a commoner would, equally putting her as the diamond of the season, the queen has finally, yet hesitantly agreed. Though with a single condition;

Sponsor the upcoming season. SUCCESSFULLY.

It was proven to be a challenge when her faith was put into the hands of the eldest bridgerton, whom was stubborn beyond belief. And it was only with the help of the second eldest that the princess might accomplish her goal.

However, getting Anthony to be married seemed to be less of a struggle in comparison to the hardship soon to occur with Benedict. Whose eyes never seem to leave her own.

OVERALL WARNING. smut!! (and lots of implied sex & talk), age gap (almost 8 years), toxic family, mentions of mental health issues, classism, abuse of power, mean ish lady danbury (i had to okay), alcohol consumption, misogyny, miscommunication, slowwww burn.

GENRE. fluff, angst, smut. a slight Rapunzel retelling, set in season 2–3 with mentions of season 1.

AUTHORS NOTE. ahhh!! i’m so excited for this, i’ve had this idea since i rewatched season 2 of bridgerton and read a one shot on here about princess reader, and it has not left my mind since. it takes place in season 2 and will have snippets of season 3. please feel free to leave suggestions of what you’d like to see xx

also!! i’ll finish your requests in my inbox soon i promise, this’ll probs make me go back to wp lol

[rjunswrld]

but you can learn from me.

haechan x thick POC! reader

sex tape, squirting fixation, oral fixation, unprotected sex, oral (giving & receiving), college au implied, thick POC reader, cum eating, fingering, praising, fuck boy hyuck implied (bitches on bitches), hyuck and reader are a lil desperate

you gulped at the pornographic-like scene your best friend balls deep into a random girl who let out broken squeals and moans to every harsh thrust he did on her, the manhandling grunts and harsh smacks echoed through the speakers as he let out breathy groans and incoherent praises of 'good girl' or 'such a tight fucking pussy'.

you both ended up in this predicament due to you. doubting his infamous sex skills and if the girls on campus were exaggerating about how good the sex was with hyuck. to say he wasn't offended by it would be a lie, taking it straight to his ego he was too prideful about his sexual life that he had to- no he was willing to prove you wrong and show you what you were missing out on.

"if you wanna fuck just say that, not gonna lie i had a few fantasies about you.."

"thanks but no thanks."

"then how will i prove to you that i don't disappoint in bed? are you gonna watch me or something, because i'm into t-"

you rolled your eyes in disgust flipping through one of the many magazines piled up on your nightstand, nonchalantly and dramatically tossing the paper at every flip and scanning through pages to zone out on whatever hyuck was going on about, until you landed on a certain page; 100 Reasons Why You Should Make A Sex Tape your mind lit up like a lightbulb. "record it."

you shrugged looking at the boy who laid across your bed, playing with the ends of your blanket and scrolling through his phone. his eyes met yours with a full smile making him giggle at your request, it wouldn't be the first time he's ever done it but

anything to prove to you why he's the school's labeled 'sex god', this was a big deal to him now. "wouldn't it just be hotter if you joined?" he teased whilst wiggling his brows puckering his lips towards you making you annoyed and questioning why the two of you were even friends-the number of times you rolled your eyes, you swore they could fall out any moment now.

"donghyuck shu-"

"okay okay, i'll do it.. but we watch it together, i wanna see your face when i prove you wrong."

"okay deal."

"maybe you can give me a treat after.. since you hurt my feelings.." he pouted making you throw a pillow at his face with force, knocking the male off your bed and earning laughter from your end at the scene you caused.

it was towards the end of the video, the view of the girl's ass coming in view of the camera as his slender fingers ran down her cheek, giving it another hard slap decorating her skin in a deep red watching it jiggle with her squealing. your focus was given to the video playing intensely, jolting slightly as his hand would impact on her ass ringing through the speakers of his laptop— she was whining at the sensitivity as she arched her back to push her ass closer to hyuck, earning a chuckle before smacking it one last time with a louder moan escaping her.

you felt your palms become sweaty and your heart race as he shifted to place the camera down to get a view of the scene facing towards the both of them, completely distressed. you were already on edge since the beginning and since it's already been a week since you and hyuck had this conversation you genuinely forgot about the whole deal, now spending your thursday night watching your friend fuck some girl's brain out seeing how big his “praised dick” was.. you were going mad trying to look unfazed by everything you've seen tonight, never in a million years did you think you'd see your friend's sex tape by your simple request that you half joked about- you swore you were sweating buckets.

he smirked at the camera making his way back to the girl who was still positioned on the bed, flipping her over on her back and dragging her down lower to have her pussy become face to-face with him— biting his lip as he stared at her glistening cunt, eager enough to part his mouth to stick his tongue out.

"she was so fucking wet.."

hyuck taunted into your ear as you stared at the scene of him eating the girl out, her back arching and her chest heaving as her hands reached to squeeze her boobs for support. he looked over to you as he was taking in your body language, smirking as he watch your hands slowly balling up against your exposed thighs that trembled slightly. he couldn't help his perverted thinking, could you be wet? turned on? wondering what it would feel like to have him do this to you?

"f-fuck!" the lewd moaning and sounds of sucking snapped hyuck from his thoughts regaining his composure and clearing his throat he proceed with watching alongside you, mentally praising himself at how good he was doing and mostly how good he looked while doing it a cocky gemini.

"gonna cum for me?"

your eyes boring into the laptop feeling as if you were watching a show, catching yourself from interacting with the screen.. but something about his words made your stomach twist and cheeks to flush as if he was speaking directly to you; after seeing the male in a new light you felt dizzy almost immediately.

"gonna cum so hard around my fingers.."

he groaned as his fingers slipped in and out of her at ease watching how his arm moved back and forth picking up speed and making her tremble with profanities slipping out of her. "s-shit haechan!"

"i'm gonna go get some water.."

"wait you're gonna miss the best part!"

he dragged you back down to your seat as his pumping increased with her body shaking uncontrollably, thrashing around he held her down with his free arm to keep her from pushing away from him the anticipation growing inside of you as hyuck kept his arm linked with yours with his childlike smile plastered on his face. "watch this."

he whispered as her body went still and muscles flexed, her moans falling silent with the sounds of hyuck fingering her intensely, the lewd noises making you clench your thighs together before the loud sound of liquid squirting out of the girl could be heard. screams of pleasure and pleads for hyuck not to stop in her shaky state with the male on the ther hand assisting her high; liquid gushing out of her. all over him.

"y-you make them all do that?" you muttered somewhat fascinated by the fact that

he could have them squirt faucets, drenching the bed below them, drenching his upper body you just knew it felt amazing. "yeah, you'd be surprised how many of them say they've never squirted or even think they could ever squirt.." he laughed as the video finally came to an end, you stared at the laptop and the video's thumbnail as hyuck let out a sigh reaching to close the laptop and push it to the side.

"so? what do you think? i own up to my label huh?"

he smirked as you both looked at each other, deciding to tease the male even further you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of it yet. "eh, i've seen better.." you shrugged standing up to walk away from your bed before getting dragged down to hyucks level in a blink of an eye- he wasn't pleased and by the looks of it, he looked pissed by your choice of words.. irritated even. showing off some of his best work in a 10-minute video just to get an "i've seen better" in response, he was fuming.

"yeah? you've seen better?" he scoffed making your cheeks flustered realizing how he had you straddling his lap, your bodies dangerously close together, skirt riding up your thighs exposing more and more of your skin. "your bluffing.. no one's better than me" he taunted taking in your tense features, how rosy your cheeks became and how intimated you looked at the male your throat wanting to slip a whimper out in defeat so badly fuck you lee donghyuck. "why so shy baby?"

he snickered as you gulped, seeing with your own eyes what the man was capable of your mind flooded with ideas and you can tell he was thinking the same the male who treated you like his prey, ready to devour.

"listen ____.. i don't know how you feel but to keep it real with you... i really, really wanna fuck you right now."

he was blunt with his words almost too casual with how he came across. his words sliding off of his tongue at ease as he brushed your stray hairs away from your face, the other hand placed on your hip to keep you in place. you'd be lying if you told him you weren't down to fuck, the video images playing through your head over and over again you could feel yourself growing wet by the lewd noises staining your hearing like permanent ink.

"if you don't want to it's okay i'm so-"

"can you do what you did to that girl.. to me?"

you whispered making him smile in satisfaction, moving his hand lower to squeeze your ass with you slipping a soft moan at the tight engulfing on your ass. "of course i can." he said in a 'duh' like tone making you punch his arm playfully as the two of you shared a giggle.

you feeling bold enough to cup his cheeks and connect your lips- though it wasn't the first time you two kissed, it had been a while. you asked him a few years ago how to properly make out with someone since he was the more experienced out of anyone you knew in your sophomore year, he taught you how to french kiss using a lot of tongue hoping you'd enjoy it so much you'd keep asking for more- you did but around that time you ended up landing your first relationship and shared your new knowledge with another male constantly before you broke up and that made hyuck furious, even though he had taught you, you went and gave another man besides him the honors of kissing you every day.

you two grew up and hyuck still held onto that grudge, wondering if you still do what he had taught you.. and by the looks of it, you do. he always imagined what it would be like kissing you now that the two of you are more mature with more experience; kissing him felt normal and comfortable. it had to be one of your favorite things about him that he was a terrific kisser still using tongue, swirling them around making the scene so dirty- you missed this and you always remembered how he was on your top 3 for favorite kissers list, maybe that 'favorite" will change tonight. he guided your body onto him, grinding down crotch to crotch, slipping grunts and groans at the friction. slipping his tongue in your wet cavern you let out choked moans gripping the back of his hair.

he snaked his hand under your skirt feeling nothing but your flimsy underwear, he pushed your skirt up to lay above your hips as he fondled your ass cheeks, squeezing and slapping them forcefully.

"hyuck..” only you get to call him by this, only you made it seem so fucking hot.

"get on your knees baby.." he mumbled on your lips making you obey instantly sliding off his body with a wet patch coating his

light-washed jeans, he snickered at the sight making your cheeks flush even darker in embarrassment. "don't be embarrassed baby, so fucking wet.. all for me.." he bit his lip, caressing your cheek making you feel small below him. "plus they're coming off anyways." he reached for your hands bringing them up to his belt to undo it for him, leaving you to get the hint he watched as your shaky hands undid the buckle revealing his jean button that you unbuttoned quickly along with unzipping his zipper. he assisted in pulling his pants and boxers down revealing his rock hard dick, tip semi wet as he twitched to produce more precum.

"don't you think you should make me feel better after hurting my feelings, princess?" you nodded vigorously as he chuckled at your eagerness. "good girl, suck my dick baby."

not needing to be told twice your hand reached to grab the base of his cock, sliding your tongue around the tip to taste the saltiness of him earning a groan from the korean. you licked up the base to the tip before collecting your saliva in your mouth to spit on it for a better glide. whilst pumping you placed him back in your mouth, licking between his slit and around his sensitive tip before trying your hardest to deep-throat him. fondling his balls, his breathy outtakes and groaning filling in the atmosphere reaching to place his hand over your head gently as his fingers laced through your locks following your motions.

throat clenching around his stiffened cock as you gagged and choked around him with saliva dripping down to your chin your eyes clouding with tears, loving the taste of him on your tongue, and the stretch in your throat going straight to your pooling core. clenching around nothing and soaking your panties, pussy aching to be touched or for any sort of friction. pumping what you couldn't fit in your mouth your other hand reaching down to circle your clit to reduce the aching, moaning around his shaft, and feeling his thighs flex seconds at a time.

"f-fuck baby just like that.." he whimpered using force to guide your head up and down his cock, gagging and moaning pathetically.

"ah fuck let go.."

you did as told as he pumped his dick vigorously directly in your face, keeping your face in place with his free hand panting and whimpering as he felt himself growing closer and closer to his well-awaited orgasm.

"fuck gonna cum.." he whined taking the hint you opened your mouth letting your tongue fall out to (try) and catch as much as you can of what was about to come out of the boy. "fuck so hot.. so h-hot.." he hissed as the white ropes of cum splattered on your face, flinching backward slightly as the warm semen dripped down your nose and chin to your neck and shirt. panting like he ran a mile pumping himself steadily and milking himself dry, you swallowed whatever shot in your mouth licking your lips and corners of your lips making him groan.

"a slut for cum huh?"

"just yours.."

your voice was hoarse due to the previous activities, coated in saliva, cum and tears- makeup ruined along with your shirt he couldn't help but bite his lip at your fucked out persona. "you're so hot.." he let out a dry chuckle resulting in you blushing. "take this off yeah?" he referred to your drenched shirt making you look down at it before looking up at him with a smirk. "take it off for me." he scoffed at your response, patting his thighs to signal you to sit on them which of course you did. crawling up his legs like a cat desperate for attention, eyes locked together with your face painted with cum as if he owned you; in this case, it felt like he did.

"lift your arms baby.." gripping on the ends of your baby tee, he lifted it above your head letting your exposed breast hang out; he knew how much you were against bras due to how much the wires bugged you leaving you to feel uncomfortable so it wasn't a shock... though he has seen your boobs plenty of times, he still can't get enough of them.

"wanna fuck you so bad.." he whined lifting your skirt and repeating the same actions from before— skirt resting around your waist hand squeezing your ass. his free hand groping your tit as he began to suck on your neck, a mission to mark you up for the world to see that he had finally got you maybe even wants to keep you.

"hyuck.." and again

you whined like a child grinding down on his thigh.

"please.. i need you.." you whimpered as you circled your crotch around his thigh, didn't do as much justice as you wished but you were hoping he wouldn't leave you hanging for too long; thank god he didn't. "ride me, and after this i'll take such good care of you.." he mumbled into your neck. "treat you like a princess.. my princess.." he groaned as he reached to pull your underwear to the side, welcomed by your wetness he couldn't wait to make a mess out of you. "so wet.. i made you this wet? and you kept saying you didn't wanna fuck me.." and yet he still had time to make jokes, typical hyuck. "s-shut up."

you gasped feeling his fingers circle your swollen bud, jolting at the feeling that shot through your body like a firework-it felt amazing. the smirk on his face as he watched you gasp and bite your lip aggressively circling your clit slowly.

"c'mon baby, ride me." he taunted with a smile making you whine, trying your hardest to reach for his now harden dick to line him up with your drenched hole. he teased you further as he sped up his motions making you tense up and fall forward onto the male who had the audacity to chuckle at your reaction. "so mean.."

you whined into his chest as your chest heaved, regaining all the strength you had left in you to sit down on his dick. slowly inserting him into you, the unfamiliar stretch making your grip tighten against his shirt with your face making a slightly uncomfortable expression going noticed by the male. "i'm sorry i should've— fuck, i should've prepped you.." you shook your head in all honesty loving the stretch of him; feeling him glide down your walls with the help of your essence making it easier for the both of you.

"touch me hyuck.." you whimpered breathlessly, fuck you were gonna be the death of him. sliding down lower as you found yourself taking him all in. he didn't hesitate to circle your clit again as you moaned towards the ceiling, eyes shut tightly as you began to move at a comfortable pace before gaining enough strength to speed up the motion.

the lewd squelching noises on top of the throaty yet high-pitched moans coming from hyuck and the incoherent blabbering and hisses coming from you; at this moment it felt like angels were singing above you, clouds parting ways to shine a light down on the two of you, serenading soft beautiful tunes- sex with hyuck felt like heaven. "don't stop.."

you cried placing your arms on the back of you to rest on his knees for more support. he enjoyed this new feeling of being inside you, almost something he could've never imagined- his fantasies proving him dead wrong, they couldn't have topped how good you've been making him feel.. he swore he could get used to this. "g-gonna c-cum!"

"cum on my cock baby, make a mess on me..

wanna feel you cum on me.." he panted with his climax being close behind, falling into pure bliss of the delicious feeling you both couldn't pull it together.

everything was more than what you could ever imagine it being. shaking and thighs trembling your mind clearing of any thoughts as the sounds of angelic music filled your soul, growing louder and louder as you released all over his cock. a loud moan escaping you as you panted heavily, his cum painting your inner walls making you hum in satisfaction as you bounced mid-pace to ride out your highs before coming to a genuine halt.

"full.." you whispered as he sheepishly smiled at you. "gonna take good care of you like i promised princess.. gonna take it all like the good girl you are?”

he whispered back eyeing your lips before looking up into your mascara-stained eyes, looking so pretty after you cry. "y-yes hyuckie." you nodded as he placed a chaste kiss on your lips before flipping the two of you over, pulling out of you slowly which made you whine at the emptiness. "m'make you feel so good princess i promise.." "i know hyuckie.." you giggled as he gently began undressing your now bare bottom, your glistening cunt painted with his cum drove him through the roof- taking a mental picture of your perfect pussy with his essence for those late nights.

"fuck.. such a cute little cunt.."

kissing and nibbling on your inner sensitive thighs making them tremble slightly as he reached lower and lower to now only to be faced with your core. he licked his lips as he locked eyes with you before licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit. jolting in sensitivity he decided to take your engorged clit head-on. thrashing around slightly as the images from the video earlier started to cloud your mind, subconsciously mimicking the girl by grabbing onto your boobs for support and arching forward to chase for more of that incredible feeling.

"taste so good princess.." he groaned into your pussy, using his two fingers to push your pussy lips aside for more access to your clit. "h-hyuck!"

your throaty grunts coming out louder than expected, your freehand reaching to place on the top of his head; tugging at his scalp making him groan. he subsided the spread of his two fingers to now inserting them inside of you at ease. you sunk into the pleasurable movements he made on you, already feeling the familiar knot in your stomach arising and ready to explode in you.

"p-please please please.." you cried feeling your orgasm rushing through you quickly, grinding down on his tongue as he scissored you open at such a quick pace, reaching places you couldn't, curling them at just the right degree and hitting all the right spots— maybe he does hold his precious little title after all.

"cum baby, lemme taste you.." his simple words had you falling into a pit of pleasure, cumming harder than you ever had before making your stomach and thighs tense before turning into a sensitive shaking mess. "f-fuck!" you cried with both hands now gripping on your bedsheets for your dear life as he worked your pussy like magic. clenching your thighs around his head as he never came to a halt, fingers pumping in and out of you with his tongue licking at your clit at a brief movement.

"hyuck hyuck hyuck.." fuck fuck fuck

you spoke his name like a mantra, feeling your stomach twist and body jolting with electricity as if someone had put a defibrillator on you. "so good princess.. so good." and unfamiliar feeling erupted in you, the same feeling you had got when you would accidentally overstimulate yourself before you would stop due to the overwhelming feeling— it felt like an all-time high as he worked you up faster, pumping into you harder and deeper with his a-1 tongue game circling your bud beautifully.

"o-oh my god.."

you gasped letting whatever was pushing to come out of you out; ears ringing and eyes shut tight you couldn't hear how loud you were let alone the gushing sounds of your juices squirting out of you. hyuck continued his work until he knew you were fully satisfied; you felt numb and completely worn out, squirting as much as you could let you out before pushing hyuck away to signify you were truly done with his work.

"well.. now you can't tell me i'm not the school's sex god.."

he wiped his drenched face off with the ends of his shirt before completely taking it off and tossing it to the side with the pile of your scattered clothes. you lazily opened your eyes as he flopped down next to you, giggling as he pulled you into his embrace. "maybe you should prove it to me at least one more time.."

"god you're so obsessed with me!"

⭐︎

[clownstillwritesfanfic]

Drift Away - Five Hargreeves X Fem!Reader (REUPLOADED)

PLEASE READ: my old blog (clownwritesfanfic) was deleted when my main blog attached to it got terminated for some unknown reason. I can’t get it back so I’m reuploading everything I had saved in my notes app. Sorry for any inconvenience or disappointment, trust me, I’m devastated, but with your help I can get back to my former glory so PLEASE reblog if you like it 🙏😭

Summary: When Five gets stuck in the subway station all alone, he decides to stay in a comfortable timeline while he tries to figure out how to get back to his family, however, he didn’t plan on falling in love with the lonely woman who lives there.

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 8,021

Warnings/Notes: death, slightly canon compliant, implied/referenced sex, slight nudity, author pretends to know when it comes to cottagecore living, soft Five, Fivela never happened, plus size friendly, poc friendly, trans fem friendly

Disclaimer: Five’s body is 24

———————————————————————

It had been a little over six years now. Six years of being stuck in a confusing maze of timelines and once again, Five was all alone.

At least in the first apocalypse, he found comfort in Delores. But down here, his only company was the rats.

Five was desperate. He wanted to go home, to see his family again, try and stop yet another apocalypse. He wasn’t going to give up, that wasn’t the kind of person he was.

But this place was driving him crazy. He couldn’t focus in here. He wanted a shower, clean clothes, a regular source of clean water and good food. He remembered a timeline he visited that looked peaceful, a place he could relax and feel safe to figure out a way back.

He picked himself up off the ground. His body aching and joints creaking. He may have a twenty-four year old’s body, but it sure felt like his body finally caught up to his age.

Five groaned as he stretched, feeling his sore muscles pull and his vertebrae clicking into place. Damn that felt good.

When the train came to a stop at his station and the doors slowly opened, he stepped on board and collapsed on the nearest seat. He was so hungry and dehydrated that he barely had any energy. He hoped it wouldn’t be long before he could get to the timeline he wanted.

It took about twenty minutes for Five to get to the right timeline, and another seven to exit the station. He was so exhausted that the stairs nearly made him pass out. He knew exactly where he was headed and he couldn’t wait to get there.

When he saw the little cottage far in the distance, he felt a burst of energy. He had been dragging himself along for thirty minutes and the knowledge of having good food and fresh water helped him find the strength to continue.

The gate to the property was open, its latch broken. Five made his way to the greenhouse as it was the closest thing and he knew there were strawberries inside from his last visit.

He opened the door, a burst of warm humid air hit him immediately as he stepped inside leaving the door ajar. He made a beeline for the plants and started picking and eating as many ripe strawberries as he could. They were so sweet and the juice ran down his chin.

He was busy stuffing his face when he heard the familiar cock of a gun causing him to freeze in place.

He slowly turned around, one hand frozen in place holding a strawberry near his face, his mouth full of the fruit. The first thing he noticed was the twin barrels of a shotgun a few feet away pointed directly at his head.

Then his eyes moved down to see whoever was holding the gun, was wearing a beautiful dress that stopped right above the person’s knees.

“What are you doing here?” A stern voice spoke out. The gun was obscuring their face but he could make out the long hair that framed it.

“I’m not going to ask again.” They readjusted the gun as a warning when he took too long to answer.

Five dropped the strawberries he was holding and held his hands up. He roughly swallowed what was in his mouth and tried to speak.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean any harm. I’ve been lost for a long time and I’m starving. I didn’t know anyone lived here.” He explained in a soft voice, trying not to startle the owner.

The gun faltered slightly before it was lowered slightly. A pair of eyes stared back at him with an unreadable look.

The person sighed and finally lowered the gun fully, the click of the safety being turned on being heard through the quiet greenhouse.

Five was able to see them fully now, a woman was stood blocking the entrance, and she looked beautiful.

“Come on, you look rough. I got some proper food inside and some clean clothes.” You gestured for him to follow you as you stepped out of the greenhouse.

Five eagerly followed you out, excited to finally eat something proper and get clean. You closed the door behind him and started towards the cottage a few feet away.

A few chickens roamed around the property, most running out of the way as you two walked but there was one or two you had to nudge out of the way with the barrel of the shotgun. You did it with such care and gentleness that you must’ve had to do it many times before.

You opened the wooden door to the cottage and held it open, gesturing for him to go in first. He thanked you as he passed you and took in his surroundings.

The inside was cute. It was small but not cramped, more…cozy. Plenty of room for two people to be comfortable.

You closed the door behind you and propped the shot gun against the wall. You startled Five, causing him to jump a bit when you accidentally clapped your hands together when brushing them off against each other.

“I’m sure you’d like to take a bath quickly. But everything’s pretty old school around here so it will take me a while to get enough water and warm it up. But I’ve got some soup simmering right now.” You put your hands on your hips as you looked him up and down.

“Thank you. Anything is perfect.” Five knew he looked (and smelled) bad. He hasn’t been able to do anything properly for six years and he was grateful for whatever you could provide.

You nodded, feeling weird having a man around after being alone for so long. You gestured for him to take a seat at the dining table as you walked to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl, ladling some of the soup into it. You placed the bowl down in front of him and grabbed some slices of sourdough bread you had made fresh that day and placed it in front of him as well as a spoon.

Five was nearly drooling at the steaming bowl of soup in front of him along with the fresh bread. You chuckled silently to yourself when you noticed his expression.

“It’s potato and leek and the bread is sourdough, made it today. I’m going to go get a bath ready for you, help yourself to seconds if you’d like, there’s plenty left.” You patted his shoulder before you left towards the bathroom.

“Thank you.” He called as you left and dug in. He moaned as the creamy and smooth soup slid down his throat so easily and warmed him up from the inside. He was quick to dip a piece of the bread into the soup and scarfing it down. He hasn’t had a proper meal in years so he couldn’t control himself.

It was about twenty five minutes later when he wandered into the bathroom. He had helped himself to seconds like you said and he also washed his dishes. He didn’t want to be any more of a burden than he already felt.

The bathroom was small. There was a big long metal tub sat on the side of the room, a wooden shelving unit with potted plants on the top few shelves and some different soaps on the lower shelves with in reach of the tub. On the opposite side of the small room was a metal basin full of charcoal that was glowing orange.

There was a window a few feet above the tub that was slightly open for ventilation, there was a door that lead to the outside that was wide open. As Five was busy observing his surroundings, you walked in from the open door. A pole was over your shoulders, two big metal buckets full of water on either side.

“Oh…hello…” You were startled at the sight of him but you couldn’t let it stop you cause the buckets were starting to feel heavier by the minute. You bent down at the knees and slid the pole off your shoulders, causing the buckets to hit the ground with a thump making some water splash out onto the concrete floor.

“I..uh…the soup was really good, thank you.” Five shuffled awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck. He was impressed by your strength, and watching you do it in a dress was just the cherry on top. He was used to seeing strong women due to his time in the Commission, but none of them looked as soft and feminine as you did. It was clear you were a tough individual and he liked it.

“No problem.” You lifted the buckets up and set them in the pile of lit charcoal and used a stick to move the charcoal around so it surrounded the buckets. “Sorry, I don’t have running water. I’ve gotten used taking cold baths, usually only heating it in the winter but I thought you’d appreciate a warm bath more.” You brushed your hands off and placed them on your hips.

“You don’t have to go through all this trouble for me.” Five felt awkward, he’d never had anyone care about him this much and he was slowly starting to realize how much he craved a simple life like this.

You waved him off with a scoff. “Just gaining some good karma points.” You joked. You reached in the cabinet that the container of charcoal was sat on top of and grabbed some big fluffy towels out and set them on the middle shelf near the tub.

As you checked on the temperature of the water, you explained to Five that all the soap and shampoo was homemade. Despite living in the middle of no where near a forest, you had a neighbour that you regularly trade with. She was an older lady that grew Beehive Ginger, a plant that produced a natural liquid shampoo. You were able to make your own bars of soap pretty easily with the lye you also made. You mostly had everything you needed out here but it didn’t help to build connections with those near by.

As you picked up one of the buckets, holding the bottom with a cloth you picked up earlier and poured it into the bath, Five was thinking to himself how much he wanted a life like this, he hoped he could when he got back to his family and figured out how to stop the Cleanse, but it was tempting to stay here with you.

You poured the second bucket into the tub, it didn’t fill it completely but it was full enough, it would’ve cooled down by the time she was able to grab more water and heat it up anyway and Five was grateful for any amount of water. You scooped up some of the smouldering coals with the bucket and dumped them into the water.

Five gave you a weird look and you let out a breathy laugh. “It will keep the water warm longer. The water put it out and cooled it enough where it won’t burn you, plus, charcoal ash is good for your skin. Helps bring out toxins and such.”

Five nodded and thanked you again. You left to go grab him some extra clothes you said you had lying around and he finally took the opportunity to strip out of his dirty clothing. He wasn’t sure where to put the clothes so he left them in a pile on the floor. When he was fully nude he climbed into the tub and sat down. He groaned when the warm water raised around him. It reached just above his belly button and he took a moment to just sit there and enjoy the warmth. Not wanting the water to get cold, he grabbed a small pitcher that was on one of the shelves next to the various soaps. He scooped up some water and poured it over his head, relishing in the warmth and how it felt as some of the dirt washed right off.

You walked into the bathroom, a folded up shirt, jeans, and a pair of briefs in your arms. You paused when you realized he was in the tub already, you couldn’t blame him, you’d want to clean off as soon as possible if you looked as bad as he did. The tub was high enough where you couldn’t see anything below his shoulders from where you stood.

“Sorry.” You laughed awkwardly. “I’m used to not having to knock. Here, got you some clean clothes. They should fit.” You placed them down on a stool nearby and noticed you hadn’t closed the door to the outside and walked over and latched it shut. “Sorry to get rid of the view but sometimes the goats get too curious and sneak their way in and that usually brings in the chickens.” You laughed.

Five smiled with a huff. “Thank you, again.”

“Stop it. No more of that.” You huffed. “I’ll be around. Just shout if you need something.” You smiled and gathered up his dirty clothing and left.

——————————————————————

An hour or so later, you had his original clothes all washed and hung up outside to dry in the sun.

You were sat at the dining room table, drinking some tea thinking about everything that’s happened so far.

Five entered the dining room and smiled. He opened his mouth to say something before you cut him off. “If you try and thank me one more time I’m going to kick you out.” You semi joked.

He silently laughed and shook his head. “Noted.” He pulled out a chair and sat adjacent to you. “I was actually going to say, I didn’t know how to empty the bath so I just left it.”

You waved your hand. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it later. Tea?” You gestured to the kettle sitting on the stove.

“I’m more of a coffee guy.” He sheepishly admitted.

“Oh, I’ve got some of that.” You stood up and grabbed the container of instant coffee and poured some into a mug and poured the hot water from the kettle into it and stirred it around. You placed the mug in front of him and sat back in your seat. You made it so quickly it was as if you’ve done it many times before. “Sorry it’s only instant. Coffee is kinda hard to get out here so we’d have to go to the nearest town for it which is about two hours away.”

“I’m grateful to be having any coffee at all. I haven’t had any for twelve years.” He picked up his mug and took a sip. It was the perfect strength, slightly bitter but it wasn’t the worst he’s ever had.

“Oh! I forgot to ask if you want cream or sugar with that.” You sounded concerned but didn’t really make a move to get up.

“Oh no, that’s alright. I take it black. This is great.” Five reassured.

“How are the clothes? They comfortable?” You asked as you sipped your tea.

“Great, yeah. They fit perfectly.” A little too perfectly to be honest.

“That’s good. I cleaned your other clothes, they’re outside right now hanging up.”

You both let a comfortable silence go through for a few minutes before you gasped. “Oh my god…I just realized I never asked for your name.” You laughed.

He smiled after taking a sip of his coffee. “It’s…Five.” He hesitated, not sure on if he should tell you his real name but deciding it was the least he could do.

“Five? Like the number?” You questioned.

“It’s…a long story.” He sheepishly replied.

“I got nothing but time…but I won’t make you talk about something you don’t want to.” He was grateful for that. “I’m Y/N by the way.”

He repeated your name. He liked the sound of it. “Do you live alone? I find it odd that a woman who I’ve only seen wear a dress so far has men’s clothes.”

“I….I had a husband.” You looked away.

“Oh..I’m sorry. I didn’t see a ring so I just assumed…” he trailed off when you grabbed the thin chain around your neck and pulled it out from the top of your dress. A simple metal ring hanging off the edge.

“Hard to do any work around here when you’re worrying about keeping a ring on your finger. Plus I’ve never been one for wearing rings. He made it himself out of some scrap metal he had lying around.” You explained as you played with the ring. “We got married officially down at the courthouse. No wedding though. We were never much for big events like that and we didn’t really have anyone to invite anyway.” Tears pricked at your eyes as you thought back to it all.

“If I may ask, what happened?” Five straightened up in his chair, feeling sorry for you.

“He went out one day to check the traps we have out in the woods…never came back. I went looking for him for months but I never found him. He wasn’t the kind of man to just leave. He loved it here. So I assumed something got him.” You sniffed and wiped your eyes. “Sorry…”

“No no it’s alright. That sounds awful. I’m sorry that happened.” He reached out and laid a hand on yours that was on the table. It was out of character for him, usually he wasn’t good at comforting others, but he felt like he needed to. Something drew him to you.

You smiled weakly. “It’s been three years. You learn to cope and move on quickly. Especially with this kind of life. You don’t get to mope around, there’s always stuff to do here so you have to work through it.”

“It must’ve been hard, having to do everything yourself after having someone else to split the chores with.”

“It was. But you get used to it. You sorta look like him too. The long hair and eyes, they’re just like his.” You smiled. “Anyway…enough about me. You can stay as long as you’d like. I’ve only got one bedroom but the couch is surprisingly comfortable. I’ve taken many naps on it. Sorry I can’t offer you something better.”

Five smiled. “Anything is better than what I’ve been sleeping on for the past six years.”

——————————————————————

Five originally planned on staying for a few days. But a few days turned into a few weeks, which then turned into a few months.

He hadn’t given up on finding a way home but he got a little…distracted. He helped you out around the house and small farm you had. You taught him how to do a lot of the more labour intensive tasks and over time you two grew closer.

You were in the greenhouse, collecting some of the strawberries to make jam later when Five appeared in the doorway, a watering can in his hand. He was wearing a green knitted sweater that used to be your husband’s favourite. He paused for a second to admire you and smiled to himself and busied himself with watering the plants.

You glanced over and smirked to yourself and picked one of the smaller strawberries and threw it at him. He tried to hold back a smile at your antics when he got hit with another strawberry, and then another, and another. Finally, he turned to you.

“You’re not going to have enough to make jam if you keep throwing them at me.” He smiled gently at you.

“Ah, they’re just the shitty ones I would’ve fed to the chickens. I think I have enough now anyway.” You took a few steps towards him before you stepped on the handle of a trowel that was left on the ground. It caused you to slip and you dropped the basket of strawberries in shock, you prepared to catch yourself when Five caught you just in time.

You both made eye contact. You felt a shiver go down your spine at seeing eyes that looked so similar to your late husbands. You felt yourself get lost in them the longer you looked and Five felt the same.

The last person he ever loved was Delores, and she wasn’t even real but he loved her all the same. But you made him feel the same way, only a thousand times more. He had started to fall for you over the months of being alone together.

He glanced down at your parted lips, silently asking for permission. You sucked in a small breath and looked down at his. He slowly leaned in, tilting his head slightly before closing his eyes and softly kissing you. When you parted you looked at each other again before Five whispered.

“Was that weird?”

“No…but that’s what makes it weird.” You replied.

At that, Five cupped the back of your neck and pulled you closer, bringing your lips back to his. This time the kiss was more passionate and loving. You held onto his shoulders, gripping his sweater.

You slowly dragged your kisses down his jaw right to a specific spot on his neck and harshly sucked. Five threw his head back and moaned lightly. He hadn’t been given a hickey before but it felt so good. After a few seconds you pulled away and admired the bruise starting to form.

You pulled away from him and walked towards the greenhouse door. He looked at you in confusion, wondering if he did something wrong or if you were just toying with him when you turned around to look at him and leaned against the doorframe.

“You coming?” You smirked with a look in your eyes.

He grinned and stalked towards you with a predatory look on his face. You giggled and took off towards the house with him chasing behind you.

——————————————————————

Five had been with you for six months now. He has since graduated from sleeping on the couch to sharing your bed.

He has been everything you could ask for. Attentive, loving, patient, caring, hard working, etc. He was perfect in your eyes.

You were once again in the greenhouse. It was your favourite place after all. You were sat on a crate, using some shears to tidy up some flowers for the small bouquet you were putting together.

Five walked in carrying two rabbits. “Oh wow look at that. Two this time.” You smiled.

“All because of your traps.” He winked and kneeled in front of you.

“Such a flatterer.” You smirked as you put down the shears and placed the last flower with the rest. “What are you hiding?” You inquired with a raised eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” He asked, trying hard to hide his smile.

“I know you. You got that look.”

“What look?”

“That guilty ‘I have a secret’ look!” You laughed.

“I have no such look.” He bit his lip holding back his smile.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes with a grin.

“Ok ok you’re twisting my arm.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls something out. “Here.” He holds it out to you.

You gently take it from him and notice it’s a bracelet made of metal. It’s beautifully twisted together making a unique piece of art. “Oh…Five, this is beautiful. Where did you get this?”

“I made it. Used the scrap metal I found lying around.” He looked up at you.

“I love it.” You looked up from admiring the bracelet into his eyes.

“I aim to please.” He looked at you full of love and smiled.

You grabbed the back of his head and pulled him in for a kiss. He placed a hand on your waist and leaned in to the kiss. He was always such a good kisser. It was passionate and full of love and want and always left you breathless.

You both slowly pulled away, leaning your foreheads together as you caught your breath.

“I love you, Five.” you whispered as you softly scratched his scalp.

“I love you too. So much.” He replied, his thumb rubbing your waist.

As much as you’d love to keep the moment going, he slowly pulled away and stood up. “I’m going to go look for more scrap metal, we’re getting low and one of the traps needs to be fixed. I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“Oh, okay. Be careful.” You smiled at him as he stood in the doorway.

“I will, love.” He replied softly before turning around and leaving.

Your smile fell as soon as he was gone. Now was as good a time as any.

——————————————————————

Despite finding peace and happiness with you, Five never stopped trying to find a way back home. His family was important to him and even though you were apart of it now, he still wanted to get back to his siblings.

He told you all about his family, his powers, how he got trapped in the future, his true age, everything that lead him to that point in time with you. The only thing he left out, was the subway. It was quite a distance away from your little piece of heaven and he didn’t want you to get stuck by accident like he did.

It was the one secret he kept from you, but what he didn’t know was that you had one of your own.

You had been feeling suspicious for a while about where he was getting all the metal. It was woods and foliage for miles so you had no clue where he was getting it all.

You weren’t stupid, you knew how much his family meant to him and you saw how it effected him being away from them for so long yet again. There would be days where he wasn’t himself, he was visibly depressed and his mind was occupied with the thoughts of his family. He would reassure you that he loved his life with you and didn’t regret a single thing, but being apart from them was hard.

But you were selfish. As much as you would love to meet his family, you refused to lose the one man that made you happy, again.

You waited for Five to get a head start before you went after him. You had to be careful, you knew he was a trained assassin and a former CIA agent, one little mistake and he’d catch you and you didn’t have an excuse thought up if he did. Luckily, you had some training yourself. Not at the level of Five’s but good enough where you were able to sneak up on him a few times before.

You followed a few yards behind him, staying close by but far enough behind where you won’t lose sight of him.

After about twenty minutes of walking, Five reached the entrance to the subway station. He looked around as a precaution before descending the stairs. Luckily, you had ducked down before he could spot you, you rose from your spot as you watched him go down the stairs.

You walked over and looked down from the top of the stairs and sighed heavily.

——————————————————————

A few months later, you were outside feeding the chickens when Five walked outside, he had the messenger bag he always used when going out slung around him.

He hadn’t needed to go to the subway station since the time you secretly followed him but a lot of things needed repairs recently so he had to find some more metal soon.

He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around you and kissed your cheek. “I’m going out now. Be back soon, okay?” He said softly as he rested his head on your shoulder.

Five has become more touchy and cuddly recently and you’re not too sure why but you’re not exactly complaining.

“I can come with you. I don’t have much else to do right now that’s urgent. Just lemme finish up here.” You replied, throwing the rest of the seed to the birds.

“No no, it’s okay, love. You stay here. It’s safer here than out there.” He tried persuade you.

You huffed and turned around in his arms. “Five, I’ve survived out here on my own for three years before you showed up. I think I can handle it.”

“I know, but please? Just stay here. It gives me peace of mind knowing you’re here safe.” He looked down at you with pleading eyes.

You sighed exasperatedly. “Fine. But don’t be too long or I’m coming after you.”

“I won’t, love. See you soon.” He kissed you before taking off.

Five felt guilty. He had found a notebook that had the answers to find his way back home. He had held on to it for so long but he had no clue how to bring it up to you. He loved you, and he loved his life with you so much. But he also wanted to save his family, and as much as he’d love to bring them here, he knew most of them would refuse to drop their new lives to start over completely. Plus your cottage and garden kept both of you living comfortably and he had no idea what this timelines world was like outside of the small bubble you stayed in.

He was going to scavenge for metal but he was also hoping to study the notebook a little more. He had covered the subway walls in equations while he tried to think of all the possibilities of getting his family safe while also being able to stay with you. He knew you wouldn’t want to leave your timeline, especially since the one he was trying to get back to was turning to shit quite quickly.

Five had walked this path so many times that he was walking on auto pilot while looking down at the notebook and thinking. He had made it to the station and was about to take the first step down when he bumped into something solid.

He looked up and saw a bunch of wooden planks and chains blocking the entrance.

“What the hell?” He muttered to himself.

“I knew you’d come here.” He turned around when he heard your voice. You were stood a few feet away looking disappointed.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? I told you to stay back.”

“I know. But I wasn’t going to let you go down there again.” You crossed your arms.

“You did this?” He gestured to the shoddily put together barrier. “How do you even know about this place?”

“I followed you last time. I knew you were hiding something. Plus I was curious as to where all the metal was coming from. So…what’s that?” You nodded towards the notebook he was still holding.

“You have no right to keep me out of there.” He ignored the question and walked towards you.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want. You’re not going down there again.” You stood your ground.

“Oh yeah? And where else would I get the materials we need?” He was starting to get pissed off.

“Fuck all that! I don’t give a shit about that! What are you doing down there that’s so fucking important?” You yelled, getting frustrated with him diving the question.

“Trying to find a way back home! To my family!” He raised his voice back, throwing his arms up.

“This is your home now, Five. You’re happy here. We both are.”

“This is NOT my home. Without my siblings here, it will NEVER be home. With or without you here.”

That hit you hard. You felt a pang in your chest at hearing that.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to leave as soon as you can? You just can’t WAIT to get away from me huh?”

“Don’t be stupid.” He huffed.

“Stupid?! You won’t even tell me what the fuck is in that notebook or where you go it!” You waved your arms around.

“It’s the answer I’ve been looking for on how to get back to my timeline. Now, take this shit down so I can finish my equations.” He sighed.

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said no. You’re staying here.” You stared at him while he glared at you.

Five got close to you, getting up in your face. “What the fuck is your problem? What makes you think I won’t just blink down there and leave right n-“

“BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO LOSE YOU AGAIN!” You screamed as tears finally started falling down your face.

This startled Five, causing him to back up. It took him a second before he spoke up again.

“What do you mean ‘again’?” He questioned.

You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head, hugging yourself.

“Y/N…” Five warned as he took a step towards you.

You hung your head as your tears kept falling. “I knew about timelines long before you showed up.” You sniffed and lifted your head, looking off to the side. “My husband…he…he found this place years ago. He went on the subway and came back telling me all about it. He was so captivated by it that he kept coming back, taking it to different timelines. I went with him once but we ended up somewhere awful. I never wanted him to go down there again. I didn’t trust it. But of course he was too stubborn and didn’t listen. He went out one day and…never came back. I waited for years. I came out here every day for about two of those years, just waiting for him to walk back up. I wanted to close it off but kept it open just incase he came back. Then you showed up…and I…I thought that you…were him. You looked and sounded the exact same. Even had the same name. But I knew you couldn’t have been him from the way you acted when we first met. But when I gave you his clothes to wear…all I saw was him.” You wiped your tears away.

Five was silent for a while. Trying to process everything you just dumped on him. “So…I was a replacement, for the version that you lost.” He clenched his jaw.

“No!” You looked at him with surprise. “No I swear you weren’t a replacement. Even if he was a version of you and you had a lot in common, you’re also different. There are things you do, things you say, that are so different from him. I never saw you as a replacement. I never saw you as him . I just saw someone so familiar that I felt so comfortable with. You made me fall in love all over again with a whole new person.” You tried to explain quickly.

Five sighed and looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “I need to get home.”

You sucked in a breath. “Five, please. Please don’t leave me alone out here again. I’ll…I’ll do better! I will do whatever you want as long as you just stay here. Please .” You felt tears stinging your eyes again as you reached out and held onto him.

“Y/N…” He sighed. He brought his arms around you and held you close. “I love you. I really do. But I don’t belong here. I’d love to stay with you. I really do. But your Five is out there somewhere. Stuck just like I was. He belongs here with you. I need to be with my family. I’m sorry.”

You sobbed into his chest as you tightened your grip on him.

“I’ll find your Five. I promise. I’ll find him and I’ll bring him back to you. You’re strong, you can take care of yourself while I look for him.” He reassured as he nuzzled into your hair.

“How do you know he’s even still alive?” You whimpered into his chest.

“He’s a Five. We’re stubborn, and if he loved you as much as I do then I know he’s fighting to get back to you.”

You both stood there, the air cold as you held each other. Your sobs mixing in with the sound of the wind. After a couple of minutes, your tears died down and you slowly pulled away from Five. He looked down at you, evidence of his own silent tears on his face.

You reached up and wiped the tears off his face. “I love you, Five. Just as much as I loved mine.”

He caught one of your wrists. “I know.” He whispered before kissing your palm. You both looked into each others watery eyes before stealing one last kiss.

When you pulled away, you leaned your forehead against his, one last time. “Do you promise you’ll find him?”

“I promise.”

With that, you backed away from him and held your hands close to your chest, one of them playing with the bracelet he made you all that time ago. You watched him look at you one more time, smiling, before suddenly he was gone in a flash.

You felt yourself fall to your knees as your curled in on yourself as you sobbed.

——————————————————————

Five had managed to arrive safely in his timeline. He was going to keep his promise to you, but first he needed to see his family.

His heart was still heavy at the thought of leaving you behind but he tried not to let it show. He didn’t want his siblings to pry too much when the wound was still open.

He walked up to the familiar house and sighed before knocking on the door. It opened to reveal Lila.

“Hey there you are. Finally.” She looked him up and down. “What the hell are you wearing?” She questioned.

“I can’t be comfortable?” He countered.

“Alright, don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’ve only ever seen you in suits or a school boy uniform. It’s weird seeing you in casual clothes.” He rolled his eyes at her statement. He certainly didn’t miss her quips. Lila stepped back and opened the door more to let Five in.

As soon as he stepped inside he saw Diego with Grace on his hip. “Heyyyy you made it, Cinco! Come on in, take your shoes off first though.”

Five softly smiled at the sight of his family safe and sound.

——————————————————————

Five found himself back in the subway station pretty quickly. The Cleanse had yet to be stopped and everything was escalating so fast but he knew he had a promise to keep. He hated leaving his family again with no explanation but he refused to let you down.

He was prepared to spend another six years down there all alone just for you. Luckily, he had only spent a few hours searching different timelines when he came across a deli.

He had followed what he swore was an another version of him down there. He hoped it was the one he was looking for.

However, he was shocked to find the entire place was full of doppelgängers. “Hey! Over here.” The Five in the suit that he followed called him over to a booth.

“What is this place?” He sat down across from himself.

“It’s a gas station. What the hell’s it look like? It’s a deli.” His counterpart replied sarcastically, sipping some coffee.

Another Five chuckled in the booth behind him while yet another copy of himself placed down a mug of coffee and two pastrami sandwiches on the table.

“Little light on the sauerkraut don’t you think?” Five joked.

“Yeah, it says it on the menu and I keep telling him but…he never listens.” He shook his head.

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Theoretically it is.” He picks up the mug of coffee.

“Oh, you’re not gonna like that.” The other Five points out.

He looks down at the coffee with a frown.

“So! I take it your figured out the subway system by now.” The Five takes a bite of his sandwich.

“Alternate versions of the same moment in time?”

“That is correct. You’d be surprised how long it took some of the Five’s to figure that out.” Five mumbles with a mouth full. It made him think back to you and how you always scolded him if he talked with his mouth full. He hoped you were alright.

Five swallowed and continued. “We’re all you. From alternate timelines, most of us have given up trying to fix the problem.”

He looked at his counterpart, confused. “What problem?”

“The broken timeline, man. There’s only supposed to be one.” Five sipped his coffee.

He thought for a moment. “I don’t get it.”

“Look around, Five.” He sighed. “Does this seem right to you?”

He looked to the side. “Well, no-“

“You think Einstein was thinking of this when he was figuring out relativity? Not a chance. This shit would’ve made his head explode.” He took another sip of his coffee.

“Ok so, what shattered the original timeline?” Five questions.

“Not what…who. And I’ll give you three guesses to figure it out.” A ding is heard through the deli.

“We did!” Another Five from behind the counter shouts.

The Five across from him looks exasperated. “Why you always gotta wreck shit, Brisket Five? Why?”

“By we he means…the family, my siblings?”

“The morons, yeah.”

“I’m familiar with them, yeah.”

“One perfect timeline and the moment we come into existence; boom! Shattered. Into an infinite number of alternate timelines in an infinite loop of time. As we try and save the world- how many times…was it again?” Five leaned over and asked the Five in the booth behind him.

“One hundred and forty five thousand four hundred and twelve.” The Five lowered his newspaper to look at the other two.

“That’s a lot. He’s like Rain Man, that one. He loves num- oh by the way. Look at the artwork.”

He turned and looked at all the framed photos littering the walls.

“All the different ways we made our universe go kaboom. Gold star for consistency, am I right?” He joked.

“We need to fix this.”

“Oh trust me, we tried. That’s why one of us created the commission. By the way that’s why there’s no paradox psychosis here. Uses the same technology that Five did for the panic room. He wanted to undo all the broken timelines, get back to the one and only. But that always fails because…?” He prompted.

“The family is the problem. We’re doomed to save or destroy the world over and over again and infinitum.” He sighed.

“Bingo.” A Five sat at a table holding a coffee chimed in.

“Bingo.” The Five across from him repeated with his mouth full.

“I need to get back to my family. Stop this from ever happening.” He stood up.

“Well…good luck with that. Guess you don’t want your brisket to-go?” The Five reached for his plate and slid it towards him.

He was about halfway to the door when he remembered his promise and turned around. “One last thing. I spent a year in a different timeline with a woman. Her name is Y/N, she said she lost her husband because of the subway and that he’s another Five.”

“Y/N, huh? Only a few of us have met someone with that name, but chances are you’re looking for that one over there.” He pointed to another Five who looked the worst out of all of them. He was hunched over a table in the far corner, head in his arms. “Used to talk non stop about his wife named Y/N and how he had to get home to her. Poor bastard got stuck and went crazy trying to find his way back.”

That’s all Five needed to hear. He walked over to the Five and shook his shoulder. The Five grumbled but lifted his head.

“Hey, I know how to get you back to your timeline. Your wife misses you a lot. She’s waiting for you right now.”

“Y/N?!” He straightened up.

“Yeah. C’mon. She needs you.” He helped the Five stand and lead him out of the deli.

——————————————————————

On the subway ride back to your timeline, your Five was pacing back and forth.

“Sit down. You’re gonna fall on your ass when the train stops.” Five tried to calm him down.

“I haven’t seen her in years. She told me to stop coming down here but I just couldn’t fucking listen and I ended up leaving her all alone.” He brushed his hand through his messy and dirty hair.

“Hey. She’s strong. She was doing just fine by herself when I met her. I promise she’s okay. She’ll be happy to see you again.” He sighed. He really wishes it could be him, but now that he knew his family was destined to destroy the world no matter how hard they try to stop it, he had to go back and be with them.

When the train stopped in the right timeline, he guided the other Five out. “Ah shit.” He muttered when he got to the stairs and saw it was still blocked off. “Forgot she did that.” He grabbed the other Five and blinked them to the surface. He shivered at the cold air. It must have been a few months since he left considering there was now snow on the ground.

“This way. I’m not sure how long it’s been for her so let’s not keep the lady waiting.” The disheveled Five followed close behind him, growing anxious at the familiar scenery. His heart started beating hard in his chest when he saw the cottage in the distance.

As they got closer, they could both see you exiting the greenhouse, a basket in your hands.

“Oh my god…” The Five whispered. He stood still in shock at seeing you again. You looked just as beautiful as he remembered. “Y/N!” He called out.

You looked around at the sound of your name being called. You had been hallucinating hearing your name in Five’s voice since he left so you were in complete shock when you looked over and saw your original Five a few yards away.

You dropped the basket, its contents spilling onto the snowy ground, and beelined for your husband, jumping right over the fence.

He ran towards you, quickly closing the distance before colliding in a desperate hug. Tears were pouring down both of your faces as you squeezed each other right. Scared that either one of you might disappear.

You looked up from his shoulder and through blurry vision you could see the Five you spent a year with standing in the distance. You smiled at him and mouth a “thank you” to him.

He smiled sadly back at you and nodded. You closed your eyes and nuzzled deep into your husbands neck. When you opened them again, Five had disappeared from view. You frowned, a part of you will always love and miss him , but you had your true Five back now. You could only hope he found someone that made him happy.

You pulled back from the hug and looked your Five in the eyes and smiled through the tears. “Welcome home, honey.”

——————————————————————

As Five stood hand in hand with his family as the Durango slowly consumed him, he thought back to you.

He had no idea what timeline was the right one, but he could only hope, that even if it was a slim chance, that your timeline was the correct one.

As you laid in bed, cuddled up to your husband, you didn’t feel a thing as your timeline disappeared.

——————————————————————

On the twelfth hour, of the eighth day of August, 2024, absolutely nothing out of the ordinary occurred.

Y/N would say, it was just a normal day as she watered the marigolds in her garden.

[mercurysmaelstrom]

Swan Song

pairing: Remmick x POC Reader

summary: As a vampire out in the present-day west, you take space on the stage of a local bar, playing the keys for a griot who’s been facilitating access to your people; however, on the night of your final performance, you're approached by a man who wants exactly what you're leaving behind.

contains: emphasis on tension, blood drinking, (blood kink if you squint), smoking, sexual themes, no use of y/n, modern day au.

word count: 3k

notes: i added some details that might be canon divergent, but in this fic, i’m implying that once a griot is turned into a vampire, they can’t summon their ancestors since i’m running on the theory that remmick was a seanchaí back in his day, but he lost his ability to conjure spirits after he was turned. walk with me lmao.

Music flowed alongside the barren streets that night, each sound swimming out of each open club.

But just a little deeper within the small town hid another bar, sitting cunningly behind the brick walls of vacant stores: a former prohibition-era speakeasy that still carried that title on its front window. And what bubbled from inside attracted the same old townsfolk who knew this place still existed.

On stage, you could never fight the wrinkle on your nose, nor could you fight the nodding of your head when your fingers caressed the keys, playing for the one woman in town who could hypnotize you with just her voice alone. Every weekend you let it wash over you.

Hell, you bathed in it. 

You drank in her voice. You drank in the kick drum that accompanied the snare’s metal rim and the closed hi-hat that bridged each gap between the beat, fusing together like a jigsaw puzzle—the soothing, yet vivacious rhythm merging with the lifeless beat in your chest. 

And you drank in the hands of the guitarist and bassist on each side of you, their fingers sliding against the neck of their guitars; their fingers strumming and plucking at the strings that seemed to grapple your limbs, seizing you on the platform. 

Not that you were eager to leave. 

The music was why you came here, and the band were why you stayed.

But even so, you knew you had to go. 

For fifteen years you performed at this bar, and though no one questioned why you began to look like the youngest in a band full of forty-something-year-olds who knew you to be the oldest, you realized that insisting you had a really good sunscreen wasn’t going to work anymore. 

Regardless of all this, you kept putting it off, telling yourself, “Just a couple more weeks,” which turned into a couple more months, and eventually another year.

This had to be your last night. 

“Alright, y’all,” huffed your lead singer, who despite being breathless, maintained her honey-smooth voice. With a handkerchief, she elegantly wiped off the sweat glistening on her forehead, glancing back at all the musicians behind her. “This is gonna be our,” she inhaled, “last song of the night.”

Last song of the night.

When the music slowly reached its end, you basked in the atmosphere one last time, scanning the crowd sitting ahead of you, swaying their heads and tapping their feet against the concrete floor or their fingers against their respective tables.

Then you observed the other crowd—intangible, yet wholly present, engaging in an incorporeal, cultural anachronism that somehow seemed to fit almost perfectly in this time and space. 

No. 

They transcended it.

Nevertheless, they vanished, as they always did. But this time around, you didn’t know when you were going to see them again. 

Gloomily, your fingers abandoned the keyboard and you ended up outside the bar attempting to light the cig tucked between your lips, the purple neon light above flashing on the back of your head as you leaned on the short, black metal gate wrapping around the front of the small building.

“Fuck,” you muttered, the lighter failing to do its only job. 

From inside, you could still hear the guitarist playing for a few extra minutes. Most of the time you’d stay back with him, rousing remnants of the melodious aroma left by the night’s session before you officially packed up. 

Tonight you couldn’t do it…because if you did, you knew you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to leave.

“Allow me,” came a voice with an arm stretched out, a brass lighter in hand.

Belonging to the sudden voice, you saw, was a man—his dark hair damp from the summer heat. Clad on his body was a dark plaid button-up that looked just a little too big on his frame, and attached to his back was a guitar, its strap diagonal across his chest.

Naturally, you leaned in, his lighter finding its way just below your mouth and his other hand cupping over the flame even though the air stirred quietly. But the second he took another step closer, that very air curdled into something else; into something you hadn’t felt since the night you were infected.

You could feel his gaze latch onto you as he lit the cigarette between your lips, the tip glowing. Quickly, you glanced at him before you pulled apart, turning away from the man as you blew the smoke out from your nostrils. 

In that time, neither of you failed to recognize the flicker of something vaguely familiar behind your eyes.

“Thanks,” you uttered, leaning back against the fence. Cordially, you held out the cig in the brunette’s direction. Silently, he declined, putting up his palm before removing the guitar from his body and placing it on the concrete column beside him. 

He was an unwelcome presence, and perhaps he knew that. 

To your detriment, you didn’t say anything. 

“So, uh,” he scratched his stubbled cheek, clocking your keyboard in its carrying bag beside you, upright against the gate, “you the one on the keys, huh?”

“I was.” You cocked your head towards the bar. “This your first time comin’ to see the show?”

“I stroll around town every once and a while. S’pose I never got the chance to come in. Y’all play real nice though.” The man leaned against the gate and peered at the large window a few feet behind the barrier. “And whoever’s singin’...yeah, she’s got a voice on her, don’t she?”

You took another drag and blew out the side of your mouth, nodding fervently. 

“Everyone calls her Whiskey,” you replied, also turning back, catching the subject of your conversation talking to folks inside who were just as mesmerized as the both of you. “Never heard anyone like her.”

Facing away from the window, you took a gander at the man instead, catching something else in his eye—a glint of hunger followed by an infernal glow that matched the cherry of your cigarette…only darker.

“Your accent,” you tried to change the subject. “You’re not from here, are you?”

He fixed his gaze back on you. “North Carolina.” 

You hummed. “You’re far from home.”

“Like ya wouldn’t believe,” he laughed vacuously, tilting his head towards your friend. “Y’know, I’ve been meaning to meet her for some time now. Heard her so much, I gotta know what she’s like.”

You sighed. “Well, you go on and meet her then.”

He lifted an inquisitorial finger on his lower lip. “Maybe you could introduce me to her?” 

You pointed your thumb back. “I was about to leave after this actually—”

“I’m sure you could invite me in real quick.” He inched closer to you. “I’d hate to be impolite.”

You licked your lips. “Right.” 

Index finger and thumb softly pinching your cigarette, you took one last drag before dropping it to the ground and crushing it with your shoe. What a waste, you thought. 

Only briefly you peered through the window, assuring everyone inside was well-distracted by each other before grabbing the stranger’s throat, shoving him away from witnessing eyes and into the tunnel under a bridge nearby, until his back slammed into the brick wall, both of your bodies engulfed in warm darkness.

Although he appeared to be surprised, a grin slowly formed on his lips, teeth as sharp as yours—maybe even sharper—revealing themselves under the partial fluorescence of the violet neon sign.

He snickered. “Was wonderin’ when you’d break.”

You edged closer to his face. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want.” His hand steadily made its way to your wrist, wrapping his fingers around it. “That's why you’re here all the time, right? Just wanna have what you’re havin’. No need to be greedy.”

Your brows furrowed. “She can’t summon shit if she’s dead. I’d know.”

“Then she won’t have to be.” He shook his head, slightly inclining his face to yours. “You could let me in. And I could play witch’all.”

“I’m not in the band anymore.”

“All the more reason for me to join,” he insisted, his grip on your wrist tightening as he bent your arm away from him. “I could fill in.” 

Your mind couldn’t process the speed he moved in. 

One minute you had him on the ropes, or so you thought, and the next your own back was against the opposite wall of the tunnel with his hand on your throat this time, caging you with his body.

“Y’know, I’ve been watchin’ ya for a while now,” he rasped, his hand so high up your neck, straining your head to bend back. “Feastin’ on rats, livin’ a life of hunger and desperation—I mean, it’s sad really.”

You made an effort to push against him, but he was far stronger than you. Perhaps even older, you feared.

“I’m not the one who’s desperate,” you grunted.

His other hand firmly planted on your chest, pressing you even further against the hard surface behind you. “But you’re hungry, ain’tcha?”

He jutted his chin to the bar across from the tunnel, every warm being inside the bar broiling in the humid, cramped room. 

The vampire took a big whiff. “Ya gotta be starvin’.”

Feebly, you turned away from the sight of the very people you congregated with most nights, indeed famished. 

He leaned his slick forehead onto your temple, his thumb softly caressing your jaw, his nail gently scraping against your skin. “Ya can’t keep torturin’ yourself.”

In this moment you realized it was easier to resist listening to your stomach when there was no one there to tell you otherwise.

“How’d you even find this place?” You heaved, attempting to focus on the lamp post on the other side of the tunnel, trying to ignore the sapid smell of bodies oozing out across from you.

“A musician likes a bit of inspiration from time to time,” answered the stranger. “But when a voice like that reaches a man’s ears…ya can’t ignore it.”

You felt the light huff of air from his nose. 

“You certainly didn’t,” he carried on, turning your head back towards him. “I mean, look atcha—ya still here.”

You scowled. “What, you’ve been watching me this whole time?”

“Now don’t get it twisted. I came here for the music. For her. Findin’ my own kind though, that was a plus.”

My own kind. 

“I’m nothin’ like you,” you told him.

The inner corners of his brows crinkled and the sides of his mouth gently raised. “Oh yeah? What’s this then?”

He removed the hand he had on your chest and used his thumb to roughly wipe off the thick saliva you hadn’t realized was trickling from your mouth.

He scrutinized the liquid on his thumb, chuckling. “Nothin’ like me, huh?” 

Your eyes glided to the curved ceiling of the tunnel, unable to let yourself witness the very instincts you’d been muffling away for years.

The man licked your saliva off his tongue before laying a hand on the wall beside your ear. “I’m here for the same reason as you are—I just wanna see my people again.” The man’s grip on your neck began to loosen, though he didn’t let go. “We’re the same, you and I.”

Your gaze reluctantly dropped onto him. 

Through the shadows you could see his pupils uncannily dilate, his scarlet irises limited to a glint. And in the sympathetic bleakness of his stare, much too dark to find a reflection of anything, you still managed to see yourself buried somewhere in there, no matter how much you dared to deny it.

“Tell ya what,” the man began.

Gently, he released his grip on your neck, instead laying his palms on your shoulders, dusting off nothing in particular, then adjusting the neckline of your shirt.

You didn’t move.

“I’ll leave this place,” he told you, his fingers lingering around your collarbone. “Hell, I’ll leave your beloved Whiskey alone.”

Finally his touch left your body, which should have been a relief, until his claw-like nail slit against his wrist, his eyes fixated on you while his own blood tantalizingly leaked from the self-inflicted wound. And although the scent of crimson fluid from a living being laid incomparable to the leftovers of the undead, the years you spent chasing after rodents made the sight of his wrist look like a home cooked meal.

“If you join me,” he bargained, his other hand now placed on the back of your neck. “We could travel together. 

Even with the smallest movements of his wrist, the vampire stood entertained by your mouth, in a restrained manner, chasing its direction.

He squeezed his hand into a fist, sending more blood out of his laceration. “Clearly, you’re all packed up and ready to go. We can...find someone else to help us. Help me—” he paused for a moment—“and yourself find our people. Find a band to play with. It’ll be fun.”

The longer you watched his wrist, the hazier your mind grew, and everything that wasn’t pouring out of his skin blurred in your field of vision. 

The vampire snaked his hand away from your neck and back up to your mouth, taking a hold of your chin to wipe more of the drool that pooled over your bottom lip. “What d’ya say, hm?”

Eventually, his voice fizzled away once your teeth rushed after his wrist, biting into his flesh and sucking what tasted like stale nectar, but nectar nonetheless. And once his blood touched your tongue, the consequential guilt you’d feel after chasing the people inside the bar had faded into the back of your mind; the thrill of their blood rushing vigorously into your mouth, diverting the very conscience you allowed to guide you for decades.

“That’s it,” cooed the stranger, cupping the back of your head while your moans stifled against his skin, both of your hands clutching his forearm. “That’s it.”

He knew whatever he said to you—it didn’t need to be true—would slip past you once you’d eaten. Just one drop of sanguine delight was enough to pull you away from yourself, overcome by a spell that was produced from your own numinous hunger. It didn’t matter if he told you Whiskey was safe. Your newly returning thirst, he thought to himself, would neglect whatever concerns you had over her. 

Finally you released your canines from his wrist, tilting your mouth to the ceiling, deeply inhaling what resembled fresher and colder oxygen into your lungs, and accessing a sudden burst of energy surging through your veins.

He took a step closer, glancing at your red lips, tapping your cheek. “There’s more food inside. Nice and ripe for the takin’.”

You couldn’t remember much else from that night. Frankly, you didn’t want to. 

You lost.

You blocked out the screams. You blocked out the feedback from your old friend’s electric guitar; his pleads as you ravenously approached him. You blocked out the regrettable invitation you had drunkenly offered the vampire whose name was Remmick. And even after the slaughter, you followed the wicked man, too guilty to believe you deserved to do anything else.

He was right, you concluded. You were the same.

But the one thing you could remember—the only thing you permitted yourself to remember—demanded yourself to remember was the beastly “Run” rumbling from the depths of your blood-coated throat in front of a frightened Whiskey whose heels scuffed against the floor as she slid back toward the broken steps of the stage, viewing the man you had spoken to several times before laying on the floor below you—a river of red streaming from his shredded neck.

Whiskey did run. You didn’t know if she survived or not; if Remmick caught up to her, or if any of the people you turned in the bar found her. You only hoped she made it out. And if she did, maybe, just maybe, you hadn't completely lost.

That same night, Remmick found you crouched over another victim, the bottom half of your face dripping; your neck stained with red, alongside your clothes; the warm light of the bar gleaming against your cold, gray eyes. The elder vampire kneeled beside you, and he took either side of your cheeks, surveying your current state, pleased. 

Was he pleased with you or himself? It didn’t matter.

Everyone around the two of you laid still, not yet awakened by the burden you and Remmick had thrust upon them. 

And inebriated by the woman you just drank from, you didn’t pull away from him. Despite the shame that quietly loitered beneath your stomach, there was something liberating about seeing a monster in front of you that wasn’t in a mirror or every piece of glass that you passed.

“We gon’ have a lotta fun together,” he whispered, staring at a bullet of blood running down your chin before his lips met your skin, sucking teasingly at the red honey, thirstily searing a trail from your jaw to your neck, gluttonous for your prey’s remainders.

Innately, you tilted your head, opening up space for him with a sigh, placing your hands on his arms while his mouth traced upwards, returning to your chin, then pausing when he hovered over your mouth. A hand of his landed on the nape of your neck while he slid his tongue along his serrated teeth, waiting. 

He didn’t have to wait for long. 

You mimicked the man, indulging in his scraps with a long lick on his moist skin gliding from the bottom to the top of his neck, eagerly skipping his chin in order to capture his lips instead, lost in a frenzy you hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

Remmick moaned against you pleasantly as you forced your tongue into his mouth, tasting him and every unconscious person around you. You nearly pushed your body against his, close to straddling the man who diminished everything you worked for, until you pulled away, panting.

The vampire hummed curiously, wiping the blood from your cheek with his thumb.

With effort, you ventured to drag yourself down from your high by looking at everybody around you. But an obscure ache within you prevented you from separating from your catalyst just yet, because regrettably, you wanted more. And when he understood that, he took advantage of it. 

He encouraged you to seek for more—thirst for more.

And you did. But never without the penance of guilt that came with the sin you cyclically committed.

[abbyandersnsgf]

ivy towers | abby anderson

— still surprised by the acceptance letter months prior, you begin to navigate life within the ivy league. between socializing, attending lectures, studying, and the otherwise bustling life of your college town, you find yourself caught off guard by the increasingly persistent thoughts that have clouded your mind ever since you met abby anderson

tags: strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, slow burn, college/university au, competitive flirting, banter, mutual secret pining, reader & abby are college age (18-20), reader afab, eventual smut, sexual themes implied. mentions of drugs, alcohol, and mental health matters

💌 there are no reader specific descriptions/mentions of a particular skin colour, hair colour, texture or length. any mention of skin/hair/nails etc, are vague, and non descriptive as i encourage the reader to imagine them as they see fit. this is a safe and inclusive space. if you feel something is not poc friendly, please reach out and correct me. 💌

Large, dark, aged wood doors squeak as you push your way into the lecture hall. The stadium seating was an overwhelming site, mixed with the adrenaline that was consuming your body and mind, causing physical anxiety like you'd never felt before. It was a site. The large chalkboard that stretched across the back wall, the stair-step tiered seats, and the all-consuming quiet emptiness that was held inside. The building had to be at least 200 years old you thought, as you made your way to the second to bottom row of seats, opting for the middle of the three large sections. The classroom filled with the warm smell of old pine wood, out-of-date textbooks, and classic literature that made you feel so at home and fluttery you almost felt nauseous.

A few months prior, you were sat back at home, decision letter in hand, feeling physically ill at the thought of being rejected from the school you had worked exhaustingly towards for the better part of five years. Trembling hands worked at the envelope seal as you laboriously tear the thing apart, not being able to wait another second. As you read the words "Congratulations!" you still remember audibly yelling, then collapsing, filled with pure joy, relief, excitement, and fear, you couldn't bear the task of remaining upright.

Thinking back to now, your eyes welled with tears at how proud you were of your hardworking attitude, and how far it'd brought you.

The groan of tired door hinges interrupting your thoughts, and composing yourself, you turn expecting to see a mature, middle-aged man but instead saunters a cocky, muscular blonde. She looks around your age. Her trousers and black t-shirt fitting so snugly around her muscular physique you can't help but gawk. Her long, blonde hair is messily braided down her back, with thin glasses adoring her nose. Freckles dance across the same area, stretching down and around her forehead and cheeks. Noticing the presence of someone typically not there, she glances up at you, a surprised look on her face.

You knew why, because it was the same reason you had the same expression, why was there someone else also here an entire 45 minutes early? Dread filling your body as you realize that this is probably the normal for Ivy League students, and an overachieving attitude was simply what was expected here.

"Why are you here so early?" the girl asks in a voice that's almost too feminine and soft to belong to such a intimidating presence.

Caught off guard you respond, "I could ask you the same thing, class doesn't start until 8."

The blonde takes a seat in the row in beside you, just across the isle. Both occupying the outer seats, you were maybe less than 2ft apart.

Noticing your bag, notebooks, colorful pens and highlighters, and textbook (Which she totally didn't forget to get), she clears her throat and responds, "I like getting here early. Its stressful like–rushing in and being late y'know?" nodding along, replying "Yeah, me too."

You feel her eyes burning into you, like she's trying to melt you, or set you on fire. Either way, its working. You feel flustered, and nervous. She's easily one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen, and she's sitting here, looking at you like you're some sort of Sunday crossword clue she's spent an hour trying to figure out.

"M'names Abby, this your second year?"

Smiling and introducing yourself you respond, "No, first."

Her eyebrows shoot up, "Wait, so how are you in a 200 level?" she asks, a hint of shock, possibly disbelief, in her tone. "I took the intro course in high school. Like a duel credit program thing–". Your voice cutoff by the sound of shuffling voices filing into the lecture hall, making small-talk-quiet conversation impossible. Turning in your seat, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming nervous presence around her. Was it jealousy? Attraction? Competitiveness? You tried to place where you'd felt this emotion before, but it was coming up blank. You felt a fire ignite inside of you every time you felt her looking at you.

Over the next few weeks, the tension had grown into a living, breathing, palpable competitiveness that was noticed among even the most clueless of students. It began the first week, when you noticed her only raising your hand if you would, glancing to see if you'd noticed. At first you thought maybe she was flirting, maybe she's just teasing you–but after two more classes, the whole thing grew old and irritating, causing you to audibly huff in frustration once, eliciting a smirk and stifled laugh from the blonde sitting across from you. Ever since that first day, she's always shown up before you. Always had an answer, always knew what to say. Always had a comment, a point, a argument to make off of your answers. “Yeah, to piggyback off that–" she would start, immediately following it with a critique or insight that infuriatingly made sense. Every discussion board was met with "Constructive Criticism" as she put it, making sure to patronize you as much as the possibly could. She knew exactly how to get under your skin, to get you all worked up, and she seemed to almost...enjoy the fight. Like there's no other place she'd rather be than arguing with you during a lecture.

Legs burning and anxiety coursing through you, you rushed past the green lawns, large oaks, and students fraternizing within as ice coffee rattled around the plastic cup with every step. It was 7:30–following a late night study session which resulted in falling asleep without setting an alarm, at your desk, overtop an ethics textbook.

You fumble with your hands full, trying to open the heavy classroom door, as you see a large hand appear on the handle, pulling it open, and another large, warm hand on your lower back. Chills electrify you, the hair on the back of your neck standing straight up as you feel a warm familiar voice whisper into you, "Running late, are we? Thought I would miss having to see you get all, hot and bothered" Your voice caught inside your throat, the blonde smirks and lowers her hand towards your hips, spinning you to face her, your noses almost touching, "Y'know, I think I'd miss seeing how worked up I get you". Her voice low, sultry, and soft, she sounds seductive and you can feel yourself becoming red, the thought of Abby Anderson actually getting you worked up being enough to cause a damp spot to form in-between your legs. You decided to play along though, you know, for the hell of it. “Oh, you would like that, wouldn’t you?” you said just as sweetly, head cocked to the side, staring back into her eyes, now practically boring holes into your own. A pink tint arising on her cheeks as she shook her head and laughed. “Okay, you got me. First time for everything I guess, especially for you.” She slid between yourself and the door, your back pressed up against the back of the harsh oak, leaving you scoffing and rather flustered, again, the effect she had infuriatingly effective.

A/N: hiiiiiiii i wrote this months ago in my drafts and decided to post it bc why not!!! lmk if u want a part two🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the other woman

christopher sturniolo x poc!reader

summary: an angsty story of regret and selfishness told through different moments in time

warnings: alternate universe (takes place in the early 2000s bcs i’m obsessed), angst, implied sex, cigarettes, cheating (with, not on y/n)

a/n: hiiii srry for ghosting u guys again :/ i finally have motivation to write again!!! send in blurb or one shot ideas pls. unfortunately im putting tgwtt on hold for right now bc i feel writing that series takes so much out of me and i end up not enjoying anything i write. i hope u understand & im sorry to those who enjoy it! anyways i hope this is well received since it’s a bit different than my other works — lowkey tuned into my inner sally rooney bc her angst HITS . luv u baiiii

★ march 2004

there’s a vile and shameful look to you that you’re not so sure you’ve hidden well enough.

your stomach feels overweight and heavy with an extreme amount of pain bubbling and stabbing your insides whenever they decide to pop.

you clutch at the edge of the bathroom sink, staring at your figure and aching eyes (you added some dark eyeliner into your routine hoping to distract from your disdainful mood but you’re starting to think you may have drawn more attention with the dramatic look).

you suck your stained bottom lip into your mouth out of comfort or maybe a need for something to hold as you move to dig for the pack of slightly crumpled cigarettes in your small, wine-red purse.

the door handle begins to rattle unnervingly just as you spark the slim stick to life.

you comically still yourself in your exact position (bent over odd and cupping your hand around the cig as if there was any sudden wind to blow out your flame in your friend's classy bathroom).

"y/n? you in here?!"

your eyes widen first, before they eventually roll. you wave your hands around to cut through the plumes of clogged smoke in the quaint room.

“y/n!”

“someone’s in here!” you reply, taking another puff of smoke and adjusting your hair a bit in the mirror.

“you gonna open up for me?”

“ummm,” you sputter through the cigarette held in your mouth as you adjust your strapless dress with both hands in the mirror.

“y/n.”

you let out a soft groan and quickly smash the cigarette a few times against the french vanilla ceramic sink bowl, throwing what's left of it in the trash. you practically shove yourself against the tiny wall space to the side of the door as you inch it open enough for the two of you to gain a full view of each other.

you smile, “chris.”

★ december 2003

they say the holidays are worst when spent alone.

and despite having three siblings and parents who’d want nothing more than to spend their christmas eve with their son, chris has always preferred to spend the holidays with a beautiful girl — in hopes that she’d gift him the intoxicating feeling of her thighs tightly trapping his face by the end of the night.

so it’s shocking that he’s at your door step, dressed in a suave, ribbed white long sleeve, dark blue jeans, and somehow caught without one of his usual hats slouched on top of his head of fawn hair.

and it’s real fucking odd that you answer the door wearing a dress that fits you extremely well, paired with a cardigan to keep some modesty.

it’s so very weird given that chris has his girlfriend of over a year texting him another apology for abandoning their plans together to visit her family in wisconsin as you both share an intimate hug on your porch.

you try not to think it’s so unnatural for you and chris to go out for dinner, despite the fact that everyone in your small town knows he has a girlfriend who’s notably quite the opposite of you.

thank goodness chris keeps some casualty — leaving you to open your own door when climbing into his beloved truck.

★ february 2004

“okay, um, this is something you can eat and there’s, like, a million types- you like granny smith!”

“oo, apples!”

chris nods excitedly and flips to the next card, “it’s my favorite meal of the day.”

“breakfast!”

“yes, you’re perfect. alright this is casper the friendly-”

“ghost!”

“amazing! ‘kay, i’m always complaining that mine isn’t stiff enough.”

“your dick?” josh jokes.

“fuck off, josh! i’m more than capable…” chris laughs.

“gross! chris?!”

“what?! don’t make it a biggie. now hurry ‘n gimme that answer baby, please?”

“well i’m guessing it’s your mattress?!”

“you have 7 seconds!” nick says while intensely staring at the tiny hourglass.

chris gives an encouraging hand motion for her to continue on that path.

“ummm… your bed?!”

“yes! that’s what i’m talking about!” chris shoots up from his position, on the ground in front of the coffee table, and immediately picks liv up from the couch in celebration.

the group let out plenty of laughs and giggles at the fear in her eyes as she’s lifted up and down excitedly.

cassie yells out, “aw yay mom and dad!” when chris sets her down and kisses her lips.

you try to control your face. your eyes flicker over and see them smiling with their faces so close together. and it drives you a little mad that whatever chris whispered to make her burst into laughter can’t be heard from your spot across the couch, especially not when there are so many conversations going on at once.

it’s just a game. you have no right to be jealous. it’s fucking taboo.

you clear your throat and uncross your legs as you begin to leave from the leather couch, “matt and josh, you can go before me- i’m just gonna grab some water.”

★ march 2004

“smoking cigs again?” chris asks as he steps into the bathroom.

“no,” you lie, resting your hip against the edge of the counter.

he knows you’re lying but doesn’t bother to pressure the truth out of you, he’s not your father. or your boyfriend at that.

“are you doing okay?” he pauses and waits for you to acknowledge him.

you don’t.

he clears his throat, “you look beautiful in this,” he tugs your dress down showing off the cleavage you’d just got done hiding.

“‘m all good,” you answer his initial question while exaggerating a smile.

chris mindlessly nods his head and somehow gets even closer to you, to the point where you have to tilt your head just the slightest bit to make eye contact.

“can i kiss you?” he asks with a genuine glimmer of generosity in his eyes and tone; as if he wanted you to want it more than he wants it himself.

you’re silent. he holds your neck gently and raises his other hand to drag your large bottom lip downward, cooing a tease, “hmmm..?”

you whine a little to yourself — this can’t happen again.

“yes?” chris mocks a little, giving a squeeze to your neck, “say it.”

your eyes droop and suddenly the ache of pain and guilt melts down to a slush of excitement and warmth both inside and evidently outside, if the stickiness of your lace underwear says anything. you nod your head.

chris is so obsessed with your mouth, his thumb doesn't move from your bottom lip as you peek your tongue out to wet it, "yes, please." your words echo off of his lips that now practically hover yours.

even though you've used your manners you manage to deliver it as a command. and it doesn't help that you paired the sentence with your hands running up the hot skin underneath his dark shirt. his mouth hangs slightly ajar as his head nods softly once more and his eyes flicker over your pretty face.

you wait for his response before your eyes lock onto his and you pout, "i thought you wanted to kiss me, chris?"

★ december 2003

“that’s hot,” chris mumbles as he kicks his legs over eachother and stretches out on the longest part of your L - shaped, funky-green couch.

“what is?” you ask as you return to the living room, popcorn cradled in an oversized bowl against your waist.

“pamala anderson,” chris jokingly moans out, biting his bottom lip and covering his lower half with one of your fuzzy throw pillows.

“gross, you perv!” you throw a handful of popcorn at his face — that’s stretched into an adorable smile — and take a seat next to him.

“baywatch reruns are all that nbc play anymore,” you squint with a sigh, taking a swig of the cool bottle of beer chris requested before handing it to him.

“they lost the best thing to ever happen to ‘em, i’d milk that shit too.” he then takes a sip, smirking when a desperate pamala anderson begins to run in slow motion on your fuzzy box television.

“what would liv think of you drooling over some baywatch tits?”

“what would liv think of me replacing her with you for my christmas eve dinner?”

you can’t help but think that ‘replacing’ is possibly the meanest word he could have used.

he smiles and gives a soft laugh when your face doesn’t respond, “joking- don’t spaz on me now…” he rolls his eyes from you back to the screen in front of you.

you swallow and adjust your legs to sit underneath you, trying to get comfortable while remaining in your small red dress.

★ march 2004

“never again,” you remind chris and yourself as you step into your once discarded underwear.

chris nods his head a few times, replying when he finally catches his breath, “right.”

“okay,” you slip your dress back on and chris redresses himself away from you.

chris slowly comes up behind you, kissing your shoulder once and hugging you gently. you want to cry — because in any other circumstance you’d embrace this feeling. but you can’t help but feel dirty.

he whispers with his head buried in the side of your crowded neck, “you know your my best friend, right? i love you.”

and you can’t help the shivers and sobs that decide to escape from your sad, used body.

“shhhh,” he apologizes, “i’m sorry.”

★ december 2003

chris imagined having sex with you plenty of times before — figuring most guys have thought of it with all of their girl friends, at least his friends made it seem true.

though his imagination could never ever live up to your whines and the way your body effortlessly takes him as you bounce yourself on top of him.

you both knew this was a bad idea, it was bad before you ended up back at your place after dinner. chris is an admittedly horny drunk and you’re no better so sharing a few beers while sitting so close to each other was bound to backfire.

only in the morning would some ounce of guilt and regret wash over him, when he’d listen to the cheerful voicemail his unknowing girlfriend left him while he was busy with his fingers in your mouth.

★ november 2004

chris hasn’t spoken to you since you came clean to liv about your disloyalty, six months ago.

he yelled and cried at your doorstep. he told you that you ruined his entire life, that he never wants to see you again.

you convince yourself you never want to see him again, but you tend to miss him in the loneliest times. when you’re sat awake in your dark bedroom.

you still miss his voice and his face.

[heartsforrain00]

KINKMAS DAY 10: Sanemi Shinazugawa & Gyomei Himejima - a special request(or whatever you wanna call it.)

warnings: threesome, slight mention of jealousy, reader has no race but it is implied that the reader is poc, no gender identity but female pronouns, p in v, anal, oral(m receiving). You’re a hashira in Rengoku’s spot.

You had just gotten back from a mission with Tomioka, it had went well. You two managed to defeat the demons and even went out to eat!

Mitsuri and you were just talking about your missions to Kocho as you often took turns to talk instead of talking over each other.

“Oh, and Tomioka went out to eat with m—“ you didn’t even get to finish before they cut you off with a loud ‘WHAT’. you were so confused, was there a problem? Did you say something bad??

You just back away and go on your merry way, bumping into Gyomei, you apologize, then wind up starting and having a whole conversation with the MUCH taller man. The two of you were completely unaware of the person watching you from afar.

“Gyomei-San, would you like to accompany me to dinner at Shinazugawa's tonight? He mentioned that I could bring someone of my choice and you're the calmest person I know who won't argue with him!”

you say with excitement, hoping he'd say yes to accompanying you. Meanwhile behind you, Sanemi was watching from afar, listening closely to the current conversation between you and Gyomei.

Gyomei nods, showing that he’ll come to this dinner with you to Sanemi’s estate. You knew Sanemi wouldn’t argue with Gyomei for no reason, right?

During the dinner, Sanemi was just staring at you whilst you ate. He didn’t stop staring at you until you were done. “Shinazugawa, is something on my face?” You questioned.

-

one thing you didn’t expect to happen this evening was to be pounded into by sanemi while you were stroking gyomei off. you don’t remember how you ended up like this.

“Shinazugawa, be more careful with her.” Gyomei spoke up, slightly helping you jerk him off.

-

At the end of the day you ended up being taken care of by them, mainly Shinazugawa because Gyomei had a mission.

I’m really lazy for this one, but feel free to request stuff✌🏽

[bimbodolllll]

۶ৎ. Cute Kid.

Tokyo Revenger Boys. Pt 1.

۶ৎ summary: They asked you out on a date, but your child had other plans. So the date was cancelled and instead happened at your home, this leads to your child blatantly cockblocking. Your child (and soon to be new man) actively have beef with one another.

۶ৎ: sfw | scenario | fem reader | reader has a young child(different kid each time) | fluff(?) | time skipped | may or may not seem ooc | implied poc reader, though you could ignore the information that doesn’t fit you.

۶ৎ Characters include: Rindou Haitani, Chifuyu Matsuno, Kazutora Hanemiya, Hanma Shuji, Manjiro (Mikey) Sano Nahoya Kawata, Izana Kurokawa, Hajime Kokonoi, and Tetta Kisaki.

۶ৎRindou Haitani:

The apartment was warm and cozy, with soft pink accents and the sweet scent of vanilla candles filling the air. You’d been forced to cancel your date tonight — Raiden wasn’t feeling well, and there was no way you were leaving him alone, not even for a few hours. You’d expected disappointment, maybe a gentle “next time,” but instead, Rindou suggested bringing the date to you. It was thoughtful, sweet, and you’d appreciated it… though as you opened the door and saw him standing there, black button-up fitting just right, a small bouquet of white lilies in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, you knew this might’ve been a mistake.

Rindou’s gaze flicked over you as you stood in that flowing white and blue dress, his expression unreadable for a brief moment before he smiled — soft, charming, and far too smooth. “Hey,” he murmured, stepping inside as you moved aside, heart fluttering just a little. But before you could say much, Raiden appeared.

The four-year-old stood in the hallway like a tiny bodyguard, wearing his dinosaur pajamas and holding a half-empty sippy cup, glaring at Rindou with the intensity of a seasoned interrogator.

“Who’s that?” Raiden asked flatly, not taking his eyes off him.

Rindou, ever polite, crouched slightly, offering a friendly smile. “Hey, buddy. I’m—”

“I know who you are,” Raiden cut him off, his tone accusatory. The tension in the room shifted instantly.

As Rindou settled onto the couch, Raiden wasted no time wedging himself between the two of you, clutching his stuffed tiger protectively. “This is my seat,” he announced, eyes narrowed.

Rindou, playing along with a small smirk, shifted to the side. “No problem, champ.”

But that tiny smirk was all the opening Raiden needed. The battle lines were drawn.

Every time Rindou tried to talk, Raiden interrupted.

“Mommy, I’m hungry.”

“Mommy, my show is on.”

“Mommy, he’s sitting too close.”

You tried to juggle it all, gently redirecting Raiden, but he wasn’t having it. When Rindou offered to help with dinner, Raiden “accidentally” knocked a toy truck off the coffee table — right onto Rindou’s foot.

“Oops,” Raiden said, monotone, not breaking eye contact.

Rindou, biting his tongue, gave a tight-lipped smile, but you could see the flicker of frustration in his gaze. He knew what was happening… and Raiden knew that he knew.

Dinner didn’t go much better. Rindou made an effort, asking about Raiden’s favorite shows, his toys, what games he liked to play.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Raiden replied flatly, stabbing at his mac and cheese with a plastic fork.

“Okay… fair,” Rindou muttered, clearly trying not to laugh.

But halfway through the meal, Raiden deliberately spilled his juice across the table — and right into Rindou’s lap.

“I said oops,” Raiden repeated, voice utterly void of remorse.

Rindou, now with wine-stained pants and a forced smile, wiped at his jeans, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like a curse before plastering on his charming expression once more. “Yeah. Sure you did.”

After dinner, the battle continued. Raiden insisted on being carried to bed — by you. Not Rindou. As you tucked your son in, brushing his hair back gently, he clung to you, clearly determined to stretch this bedtime routine as long as possible.

When you finally stepped out of Raiden’s room, leaving the door cracked, Rindou stood in the hallway, hands in his pockets, waiting. From his bed, Raiden’s small voice called out, loud enough for only Rindou to hear.

“You’re leaving soon.”

Rindou, leaning casually against the doorframe, raised a brow. “You really don’t like me, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

Raiden shrugged, pulling his blanket up to his chin. “Because you’re not supposed to be here.”

There was a pause, then Rindou chuckled quietly, ruffling his own hair, looking away with an almost amused sigh. “Little punk…” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

But as he grabbed his jacket from the couch and slipped it on, you could tell — he knew he’d lost tonight. Raiden had won this round, and the tiny smile on your son’s face as he drifted off to sleep made it clear he knew it, too.

۶ৎChifuyu Matsuno:

Chifuyu showed up right on time, dressed casually but nice — a crisp white shirt, black jeans, and sneakers. He had a small bag of pastries from that cozy little bakery down the street, probably thinking it would be a sweet touch. The plan was supposed to be a simple dinner out, something light and easy, but of course, that couldn’t happen. Haruki was having one of his clingy days, the kind where he wouldn’t let you out of his sight without throwing a fit. Cancelling the date seemed inevitable, but Chifuyu, ever understanding, suggested bringing the date to your place instead.

The moment he stepped inside, Haruki was already sizing him up. Sitting on the floor with his building blocks, pacifier half-hanging out of his mouth, he didn’t say a word — just stared, eyes narrowed with a silent challenge.

“Hey, little guy,” Chifuyu greeted, giving a friendly wave.

Haruki didn’t answer. He just kept watching, calculating. Then, without breaking eye contact, he grabbed a block and casually tossed it. Not hard, but enough to make a point. It hit Chifuyu’s shoe with a soft thunk.

“Oops,” Haruki mumbled around the pacifier, eyes wide with fake innocence.

Chifuyu smiled, playing it off, though there was a flicker of something behind that polite expression — something that said he knew exactly what was happening.

“It’s okay,” you said, smoothing things over, but Haruki was already planning his next move.

Throughout the evening, it was a passive-aggressive battle, and Haruki was winning. Every time Chifuyu tried to engage with you, Haruki countered like a tiny, chubby-cheeked saboteur.

“So, how’s work been?” Chifuyu asked, leaning in, his voice warm and easy.

Before you could answer, Haruki, as if on cue, climbed into your lap. “Mommy, hold me,” he demanded softly, snuggling against your chest with a smug little glance at Chifuyu over your shoulder.

Of course, you picked him up — how could you not? His arms wrapped around your neck, thumb back in his mouth, looking victorious. Chifuyu just sipped his tea silently, clearly aware he was losing, but too kind to say anything.

When dinner was ready, things only got worse. Haruki outright refused to sit in his booster seat. “I don’t wanna sit there!” he whined, clinging to your arm.

“Haruki…” you tried gently, but he wasn’t having it.

Chifuyu, ever patient, tried to help. “Hey, buddy, I’ll tell you a story if you sit in your chair.”

Haruki’s response was a blunt, unwavering, “No.”

So, the entire dinner was you trying to eat one-handed while Haruki picked at your plate, glaring at Chifuyu like he was some kind of intruder.

The breaking point came when Chifuyu offered to help clean up. As he stood to take the dishes, Haruki “accidentally” knocked over a full glass of water — straight into Chifuyu’s lap. The splash was loud, ice clinking against the floor, and Haruki’s little “oops” came way too quickly to be sincere.

Chifuyu froze for a second, water soaking through his jeans, and you could see the brief, slow inhale he took, grounding himself.

“It’s okay… it’s fine…” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched as he forced a smile. Meanwhile, Haruki, nestled comfortably in your arms, looked utterly satisfied with himself.

When bedtime rolled around, Haruki refused to sleep unless you stayed with him. “Mommy, sleep with me,” he whispered dramatically, eyes big and tear-filled, the ultimate weapon.

From the couch, Chifuyu heard this and knew the date was officially over. As you took Haruki to bed, Chifuyu lingered near the doorway, smiling gently, ever understanding.

But as you turned off the light, Haruki opened one eye to find Chifuyu still watching… and offered a subtle, triumphant smile. It was the kind of look that said, You’re leaving soon.

Chifuyu gave a playful, defeated little wave. “Goodnight… little monster,” he whispered.

And as the door softly closed, Chifuyu knew, without a doubt, he had completely lost this round.

۶ৎKazutora Hanemiya:

Kazutora arrived at your place just as the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the living room. He looked good—casual but sharp in a fitted black Henley, distressed jeans, and his usual combat boots. His messy hair, falling in golden waves, gave him that effortless cool that was so undeniably him. In his hands was a bouquet of sunflowers, bright and thoughtful. The plan was supposed to be dinner out somewhere nice, but you’d had to cancel because Renji wasn’t feeling well earlier. When Kazutora suggested a cozy date night at home instead, it seemed like a sweet compromise.

Renji, curled up on the couch with his blanket and a stuffed tiger, watched Kazutora enter with wide, suspicious eyes. There was something comical about it—the little tiger in Renji’s arms and the tiger tattoo stretching over Kazutora’s neck. “Hey, little dude,” Kazutora said with a small smile, trying to sound friendly. Renji didn’t respond. He just stared, lips pressed together in a tight line, already radiating an unmistakable “I don’t trust you” energy.

As you set the bouquet in a vase, Renji made his move. Kazutora tried to sit next to you on the couch, but Renji climbed into your lap, pressing himself against you with exaggerated heaviness. His head nestled into your chest, little arms wrapped tightly around your waist as if to stake a claim. “You okay, baby?” you asked gently, running your fingers through his hair. Kazutora leaned back, trying to play it cool. “Tired, huh?”

Renji lifted his head just enough to glare at him. “She’s my mommy.” His voice was soft but firm, the kind of territorial declaration that only a four-year-old could pull off with such conviction. Kazutora raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching, already realizing this wasn’t going to be easy.

The sabotage began subtly. Every time Kazutora tried to start a conversation, Renji interrupted. “So, how’s work—” Kazutora started. “Mommy, look at this!” Renji demanded, holding up a random toy he’d strategically grabbed from the floor. Of course, you praised the toy, smiling, while Kazutora sat there, watching the whole thing unfold with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “That’s… cool, man,” Kazutora muttered, but Renji just stared at him like he’d committed a crime by speaking.

When Kazutora brought over takeout from a fancy ramen place, trying to make dinner feel special, Renji took the opportunity to escalate. He refused to eat unless you fed him. “I can’t do it,” he whined dramatically, holding out his spoon like his arms didn’t work. So there you were, spoon-feeding your four-year-old while Kazutora silently stabbed at his food, fully aware that he was, once again, the third wheel on his own date. Renji, between each bite, shot him a smug, triumphant look. Kazutora whispered under his breath, “Little punk…”

Later, when Kazutora suggested watching a movie, hopeful for a little alone time with you, Renji made his next move. Just as you shifted to sit beside Kazutora, Renji announced loudly, “My tummy hurts!” Panic-mode kicked in immediately, and Kazutora watched helplessly as you scooped Renji into your arms, rubbing his back, comforting him. But as Renji nestled into your shoulder, Kazutora caught a glimpse of his face—Renji peeked at him and smiled. A slow, evil little grin. Kazutora blinked, realizing the kid had faked the entire thing just to kill the vibe.

After some coaxing, you finally got Renji to agree to go to bed, and Kazutora thought maybe, finally, there was a chance to salvage the night. But Renji wasn’t done. A few minutes after being tucked in, he appeared in the hallway, rubbing his eyes dramatically. “Mommy, I’m scared…” he whispered. Kazutora, sitting on the couch with a drink in his hand, muttered, “You are not scared.” But the way you immediately went to comfort Renji told Kazutora he’d lost this battle.

Tucking Renji back into bed, you kissed his forehead, promising to stay until he fell asleep. Kazutora, sprawled on the couch, staring at the ceiling, knew it was over. When you finally came back out, Kazutora caught one last look—Renji, eyes half-closed, offering a triumphant little smile from his bed. The unspoken message was clear: Mine. Kazutora, defeated but amused, mouthed back, “You win this time…” But he knew the war for your attention was far from over.

۶ৎHanma Shuji:

Hanma showed up that evening with his usual chaotic charm, dressed in black skinny jeans, a white button-up with the top few buttons undone, and his signature trench coat slung over his shoulders. His black-and-blonde hair was slicked back lazily, and he carried a bag of takeout and a bottle of wine. The original plan was dinner out, but you had to cancel because baby Shion was “extra fussy” and refusing to sleep.

When you opened the door, Hanma’s gaze swept over you, taking in the white maxi dress with its blue seashell and fruit print, the halter neckline that tied at your chest, creating a keyhole cutout, and the open back with thin blue straps that crisscrossed and connected to the skirt. For a split second, Hanma forgot how to breathe.

“Damn, babe… you really gonna make me behave tonight?” he teased, his voice low and playful. But just as he leaned in for a hello kiss, a loud, shrill baby wail pierced the air. Hanma froze mid-lean, eyebrows raised, as Shion made his presence very, very known. You gave him a sheepish smile, already exhausted, and said, “He’s just a little cranky…”

Hanma stepped inside, and there was Shion on a playmat, aggressively chewing on a teething ring, big teary eyes glaring up at the new man in the room. Hanma squatted down to his level, offering a lopsided grin.

“Yo, little man.”

Shion stared… then let out a loud, angry babble — a clear “No.”

Hanma, laughing softly, muttered, “Oh, we’re starting like this, huh?”

You tried to settle Shion back on the mat, but the second you moved toward Hanma, Shion’s arms shot up, demanding to be held. You scooped him up, and he immediately buried his face in your neck, shooting Hanma a side-eye over your shoulder.

“Guess he’s not a fan of sharing,” Hanma joked, setting the food on the table. Shion made a small, possessive coo, tightening his chubby arms around your neck.

Hanma tried to set up the food, plates, and wine, hoping the baby might calm down. But every time you tried to sit next to him, Shion fussed until you were forced to hold him in your lap, feeding him little bites of soft food with your fingers.

“Want me to hold him while you eat?” Hanma offered, reaching out.

The instant Hanma’s hand got too close, Shion let out a furious wail — loud, sharp, and accusing. Hanma pulled back, blinking.

“Damn… okay. I get it.”

You looked apologetic, gently rubbing Shion’s back while Hanma tried to play it cool, chewing his food slowly, though there was a clear challenge forming in his amber eyes.

After dinner, Hanma tried again — grabbing one of Shion’s stuffed animals and making it dance.

“What about this guy? He seems cool.”

Shion glared… and then dramatically threw the toy on the floor with a loud thud.

Hanma raised an eyebrow.

“Okaaay. Tough crowd.”

You gently scolded, “Shion, be nice…” but Hanma was already smirking, recognizing the game.

“It’s cool, babe. He’s just testing me.”

Shion, as if understanding, grabbed another toy and chucked it — this time, narrowly missing Hanma’s knee.

“Oh-ho… so we’re throwing things now?” Hanma chuckled, but there was an almost playful competitiveness in his tone.

You tried to put Shion down for bed, giving Hanma a hopeful smile.

“He usually falls asleep pretty fast… I’ll be back in a sec.”

Hanma leaned back on the couch, stretching out with a satisfied smirk, thinking the battle was over. But ten minutes later…

WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH.

Shion, standing in the crib, red-faced, absolutely refusing to sleep.

Hanma sighed, watching you scoop Shion back up and cradle him, bouncing gently. The baby, once again in your arms, gave Hanma a smug little look over your shoulder.

You ended up sitting on the couch, rocking Shion while Hanma sat beside you, trying to act unfazed. But Shion made sure there was no hand-holding, no cuddling, no date-night atmosphere whatsoever.

Eventually, you leaned your head back, sighing softly as Shion finally dozed off against your chest. Hanma glanced at you both, smirking despite the chaos.

“You really are his whole world, huh?”

You smiled softly, brushing a hand through Shion’s hair, but Hanma caught the glint in baby Shion’s barely-open eyes — the silent message: “You won’t be here long.”

Hanma leaned closer, whispering near Shion’s ear with a sly grin:

“We’ll see about that, little man.”

۶ৎManjiro (Mikey) Sano:

Your apartment was cozy and softly lit with warm-toned fairy lights along the walls. The air smelled faintly of lavender and fresh laundry. Mikey showed up wearing black cargo pants, a plain white tee, and an oversized black hoodie—casual yet effortlessly attractive. His black hair fell in soft, messy layers around his face. He was carrying a small bag of taiyaki and a six-pack of melon soda, fully expecting a chill, intimate night in since you had to cancel your restaurant reservation due to baby Sora’s “restless mood.”

When you opened the door in your white and blue maxi dress, his dark eyes immediately scanned you, lips quirking into a lazy grin. “Wow… you really got dressed up just to break my heart and stay in?” he teased, but before he could lean in to kiss you, a loud, angry cry erupted from somewhere in the apartment. His smile twitched as he glanced past your shoulder. “Ah… the little prince.”

You laughed softly, feeling a bit tired as you let him inside. Just as the door closed behind him, Sora toddled into the living room, a pouty frown on his chubby face, clutching a small plush dinosaur. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Mikey. For a brief moment, there was a tense silence—the baby processing this intruder—before Sora dramatically dropped his toy and raised his arms to you with a demanding whimper. “He’s been a little clingy today,” you murmured apologetically, scooping him up.

Mikey offered a gentle smile, reaching out a finger to tickle Sora’s side. “Hey there, kiddo.” But the second Sora felt himself being handed off, he immediately erupted into a meltdown, screaming like Mikey was made of fire. Mikey blinked, then chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah… I see how it’s gonna be.”

As you tried to set up your little at-home dinner, Sora refused to be put down, clinging to you like a koala. Mikey sat cross-legged on the floor, watching with an amused smirk, but every time you tried to hand Sora a toy or put him back on his playmat, his face scrunched up in pure outrage, arms flailing. Eventually, Mikey offered, “Want me to hold him for a bit?”

You hesitated, but Mikey was already reaching out gently. The second Sora felt himself being handed off, though—instant meltdown. “WAAAAHHHHHHHHH.” His scream was ear-piercing, like Mikey had just committed a grave sin. You quickly took him back, soothing him with gentle shushes while Mikey, now rejected, sat back with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, so I’m the bad guy now?”

Sora, once safely in your arms again, gave Mikey a triumphant side-eye—subtle, but unmistakable. Mikey narrowed his eyes playfully. “I see what you’re doing.”

After dinner, you tried to put Sora down for the night. Mikey, hopeful, watched you walk toward the bedroom, thinking the battle might finally be over. He sprawled back on the couch, smirking to himself, waiting for your return. Five minutes passed… ten minutes… and then, WAAAAHHHHHHH. Sora’s angry, tired wailing filled the apartment. Mikey groaned quietly, running a hand through his hair as you reappeared, holding a very awake and very cranky baby. “He won’t sleep unless I hold him…”

You looked apologetic, but Mikey just offered a soft smile. “It’s fine.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder, his hand subtly resting on your thigh, though Sora was still very much the center of attention.

You sat beside him again, gently bouncing Sora, who was snuggled against your chest, eyes half-lidded but still refusing to fully sleep. Mikey leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder, his hand subtly resting on your thigh. But every time Mikey leaned in to say something—a soft compliment, a joke—Sora dramatically shifted in your lap, shoving his head against your chest or reaching up to grab your chin, forcing your attention back on him.

Mikey looked down at the tiny foot, then up at Sora, who, despite looking half-asleep, gave Mikey a slow blink of pure defiance. You hummed softly, your fingers running through Sora’s hair, completely unaware of the silent war going on right under your nose.

Mikey leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for the baby to hear, “You’re lucky you’re cute, little man.”

Sora smirked—or at least Mikey swore it was a smirk—before closing his eyes, fully claiming you for himself. Mikey sighed, leaning back against the couch, defeated for now—but the challenge was set. Round two, tomorrow.

۶ৎNahoya Kawata:

The evening had a gentle warmth to it, the sun just beginning to set, casting a soft golden hue over the apartment. You’d planned to go out tonight — a long-overdue date with Nahoya — but, of course, life had other ideas. Kaito had been fussy all day, refusing to nap, and by the time the sitter was supposed to arrive, it was clear you weren’t going anywhere. You felt bad canceling, but Nahoya, ever relaxed, just laughed over the phone and said, “No biggie. I’ll come to you instead.”

You hadn’t expected him to actually show up thirty minutes later, leaning against your doorway with that easy grin, hands in his pockets, looking far too good in his black short-sleeve Henley and ripped jeans.

“Thought I’d make your night a little less boring,” he teased, eyeing you with a playful glint as you stood there in that white and blue maxi dress — the flowing fabric hugging your curves, the open back making you feel a little more elegant than a typical night in.

But as inviting as the scene was, there was one small, glaring problem.

Kaito.

Your three-year-old was sitting right in the middle of the living room floor, surrounded by blocks, and the moment Nahoya stepped inside, his chubby cheeks puffed out in a pout that spoke volumes.

“Who’s that?” Kaito asked, blunt as ever, eyeing Nahoya like he was an intruder.

Nahoya, never one to back down from a challenge, crouched slightly, offering a friendly wave. “Yo, kiddo. I’m Nahoya.”

Kaito stared. Hard.

You could already feel the tension brewing, though Nahoya seemed completely unfazed. He kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the couch while you moved to the kitchen, already preparing snacks.

The second your back was turned, the battle began.

Kaito, still sitting on the floor, glared up at Nahoya, gripping a bright red block in his little fist. “That’s my couch.”

Nahoya smirked, lounging deeper into the cushions, spreading his arms across the back like he owned the place. “Yeah? Looks like I found it first.”

Kaito’s eyes narrowed dangerously — well, as dangerously as a toddler could manage.

The next half hour was a constant back-and-forth.

“Momma, I want a snack.”

“Momma, I’m thirsty.”

“Momma, can you come here?”

Every request timed perfectly to interrupt any conversation or moment of closeness between you and Nahoya. You could see the amusement dancing in his eyes, though, as he played along, more entertained by the challenge than anything else.

But Kaito wasn’t done. No, not by a long shot.

When Nahoya tried to help clean up the blocks, Kaito dramatically threw himself on top of the pile, shouting, “NOOOO! Don’t touch my toys!”

“Alright, alright,” Nahoya chuckled, raising his hands in surrender, though you caught the faintest twitch of annoyance in his smile.

Dinner rolled around, and Kaito, sensing his mother’s attention was being stolen, took things up a notch.

“Momma, sit next to me,” he demanded, climbing into his chair with a determined frown.

You gave Nahoya a small, apologetic smile as you slid into the seat beside your son, leaving Nahoya on the other side of the table, now thoroughly third-wheeled by a toddler.

Halfway through the meal, Kaito “accidentally” knocked over his water cup, sending a small flood across the table — and right into Nahoya’s lap.

“Ooops…” Kaito drawled, with the most unapologetic expression a three-year-old could muster.

Nahoya froze, blinking as the cold water soaked into his jeans, before exhaling slowly through his nose, giving Kaito a long, unreadable look. “Yeah… sure.”

After dinner, the standoff continued.

Kaito insisted on bedtime stories — multiple bedtime stories — and of course, only from you. Not Nahoya. You could feel the man’s gaze on you from the doorway as you tucked your son in, brushing his hair back gently, his tiny hand clutching your fingers as he yawned, dragging out the bedtime routine as long as physically possible.

When you finally stepped out, closing the door quietly behind you, Nahoya was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching with a lopsided grin.

From inside the room, Kaito’s voice drifted out, soft but pointed.

“Is he still here?”

Nahoya smirked, not missing a beat. “Yup.”

“Tell him to go home.”

“Not happening, kid.”

There was a pause. Then, from beneath the blankets, Kaito muttered, “I don’t like you.”

Nahoya let out a quiet, amused huff, shaking his head. “I got that, yeah.”

But even as he grabbed his jacket, preparing to leave, there was a flicker of determination in his eyes. Kaito might’ve won tonight… but Nahoya clearly wasn’t planning on giving up anytime soon.

۶ৎIzana Kurokawa:

The evening air was soft and warm, the sky painted with hues of pink and orange as the sun began to dip below the horizon. You’d planned a night out — something rare and exciting — but with Kaizer still so little, the reality of getting away for a few hours was impossible. The babysitter canceled last minute, and despite your apologies over the phone, Izana’s voice was smooth and unconcerned.

“I’ll come over,” he said simply, as though it was no trouble at all.

You didn’t expect him to actually show up on your doorstep twenty minutes later, dressed effortlessly in a sleek black shirt and dark jeans, hands in his pockets, giving you that quiet, knowing smile that always seemed to unnerve and charm at the same time.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, gaze trailing over the flowing white and blue maxi dress you’d put on for what was supposed to be a night out — the open back, the delicate halter neckline, and the soft skirt brushing your ankles. His eyes lingered, but his attention was quickly stolen by the soft babbling of Kaizer, who sat in the middle of the living room floor, surrounded by his plush toys.

The second Izana stepped inside, Kaizer — barely over a year old — froze, blinking up at the unfamiliar man with wide, dark eyes. And then… the hostility began.

Kaizer stared at him with a seriousness far beyond his baby years, clutching a stuffed bunny with both hands, holding it like a weapon.

“Hey there,” Izana greeted softly, crouching down a little, keeping his distance but offering a gentle smile. “What’s up, little guy?”

Kaizer blinked once. Twice. Then, with the most exaggerated pout imaginable, he let out a loud, disapproving wail.

You rushed over, scooping him up into your arms, gently bouncing him, whispering soft reassurances, but Kaizer’s dark little eyes remained locked on Izana with an intensity that spoke of pure, baby-sized betrayal.

Izana chuckled softly, not at all deterred. “I don’t think he likes me.”

“He’s just… fussy,” you tried, offering a weak smile as Kaizer buried his face against your shoulder, one chubby hand clutching your dress possessively, as though claiming you as his and his alone.

The evening unfolded with Kaizer declaring quiet, passive-aggressive war.

When you sat on the couch, Kaizer insisted on being in your lap. When Izana tried to sit beside you, Kaizer kicked his tiny feet out, accidentally (but very much on purpose) hitting Izana in the thigh with surprising strength for such a little thing.

“Oops…” you murmured, shooting Izana an apologetic glance.

Izana, ever composed, just smiled, though there was a glimmer of challenge in his eyes as he leaned back, watching Kaizer with amusement, as though recognizing a worthy opponent.

Dinner was no better.

Kaizer, seated in his high chair, stared Izana down with the determination of a baby defending his territory. Every time Izana tried to talk to you, Kaizer made a loud, random noise — banging his spoon, squealing, or blowing raspberries with dramatic flair — effectively cutting off any adult conversation.

“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” Izana murmured, gaze locked with Kaizer’s.

Kaizer responded by throwing his spoon on the floor. Hard.

You sighed, bending down to retrieve it, and when you sat back up, Izana was still watching Kaizer with a faint, unreadable smile, like he was actually enjoying the challenge.

After dinner, things escalated.

Kaizer, tired but refusing to go to sleep, became extra clingy. You tried rocking him, singing softly, but every time you tried to set him down, he wailed, reaching for you with dramatic sobs, forcing you to pick him back up.

“Go to sleep, little man,” Izana said quietly from the doorway, his voice calm but firm.

Kaizer’s head snapped up from your shoulder, glaring over at him with sheer, baby-sized defiance.

“No,” he said, clear as day.

You blinked.

Izana blinked.

Kaizer, satisfied, buried his face against you again, little arms tight around your neck, effectively claiming victory.

“You’ve got your hands full,” Izana said with a soft chuckle as you finally emerged from the nursery, looking tired but relieved that Kaizer had finally fallen asleep.

“Yeah… sorry. He’s… a bit much,” you sighed, brushing your hair back, offering a sheepish smile.

But Izana, leaning casually against the wall, gave you that slow, unreadable smile of his — a mix of amusement and quiet determination.

“I like a challenge,” he murmured, voice low, eyes glinting as though silently telling Kaizer — asleep just beyond the door — that he wasn’t going anywhere.

۶ৎHajime Kokonoi:

The evening had that soft, golden glow that only came with summer’s end — warm, honeyed light streaming through your windows, casting long shadows over the hardwood floor. The smell of shea butter and cocoa lingered faintly in the air, mingling with the soft floral perfume you’d carefully dabbed on your wrists. You stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the white maxi dress that hugged your curves just right, its blue seashell and fruit print vibrant against your caramel-toned skin. The halter neckline tied neatly at your chest, forming a small, teasing keyhole cutout, while thin blue straps crisscrossed your bare back before meeting the fitted waist. The skirt flared out gently, brushing against your ankles with every shift, giving you the kind of soft, effortless elegance you rarely got to feel anymore.

You’d even taken the time to refresh your curls, the thick, springy coils framing your face perfectly, glossy with a light coat of coconut oil. The scent was subtle but warm — familiar, comforting. Your edges were laid flawlessly, baby hairs swooped in delicate waves along your hairline, the kind of detail that took time and patience but made all the difference. You looked good, felt good… for once.

But of course, peace was never that simple.

From the living room came a loud, exaggerated sigh — the unmistakable sound of your five-year-old daughter, Airi, broadcasting her boredom and dissatisfaction with her entire soul.

“I really can’t go out tonight,” you whispered into your phone, glancing toward the sound of her dramatics. “My babysitter canceled… I’m so sorry, it’s just—”

“I’ll come to you,” Kokonoi interrupted smoothly, his voice low and decisive, like he’d already made the call before you could protest.

You hesitated, glancing back at Airi. She was sprawled out on the floor, her caramel-brown cheeks slightly flushed, surrounded by a mess of coloring books, markers, and her ever-present pink stuffed bunny, whose fur was worn down from years of love. Her wild, coily pigtails stuck out in two large, frizzy puffs, stubbornly resisting your attempts to tame them earlier that day. She was gripping a marker like her life depended on it, her little brows furrowed in fierce concentration as she colored — hard.

“I don’t know if that’s a good—”

“I’ll be there in twenty,” Kokonoi said, and just like that, the line went dead.

You barely had time to straighten up the house before the doorbell rang.

When you opened it, there he was — sleek and polished, like he’d just stepped out of a high-end fashion magazine. Kokonoi Hajime, with his hair perfectly tousled, a black button-up with the top buttons undone just enough to hint at the smooth line of his collarbone, and fitted slacks. His sharp, calculating eyes did a slow, deliberate sweep over you, taking in the dress, the curves, the bare skin of your shoulders, and the smoothness of your legs.

“You look…” He paused, his voice rough around the edges now. “Incredible.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, a flattered, fluttery feeling stirring in your chest — until a small, suspicious voice shattered the moment.

“Who are you?”

Airi had materialized in the doorway, barefoot, wearing her oversized princess nightgown, the hem brushing her ankles, her stuffed bunny dangling limply from her hand. Her skin glowed softly in the evening light, and her big, dark eyes were narrowed in unmistakable distrust.

Kokonoi’s gaze flicked to her, and for a split second, he looked… caught off guard. Clearly, he wasn’t used to being interrogated by someone half his height.

“I’m a friend of your mom’s,” he said smoothly, offering a faint, polite smile.

Airi wasn’t impressed.

“Why are you here?” she pressed, her tone flat, her little arms crossed tightly over her chest, one hip popped out in that sass-filled way only a five-year-old girl could manage.

“I—”

“You’re not my dad,” she announced bluntly, her expression making it clear that this fact alone was enough reason for him to leave immediately.

The air went thick for a moment. You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing, watching as Kokonoi — cool, composed, and calculating — found himself on the receiving end of the world’s tiniest power move.

“Airi…” you started, your voice low with warning, but she wasn’t done.

With dramatic flair, she turned her back to him, marched into the living room, and flopped onto the couch with a loud, pointed sigh, clutching her bunny to her chest like a beloved battle companion.

“I’ll be nice if you give me twenty dollars,” she added, not even looking up, her voice casual, like this was just a standard transaction.

Kokonoi blinked. Slowly. The disbelief was plain on his face as he glanced back at you.

“She’s extorting me,” he muttered under his breath.

“She does this with everyone,” you whispered, your tone apologetic, but Airi was already watching him out of the corner of her eye, waiting.

Kokonoi, ever the businessman, sighed and pulled out his wallet, producing a crisp twenty-dollar bill.

“Is this all it takes?” he asked dryly, raising a sharp eyebrow.

Airi snatched the bill with the speed of a seasoned hustler, stuffed it into the pocket of her nightgown, and… went right back to glaring at him.

“She’s not going to be nice, is she?” Kokonoi asked quietly, his voice tinged with a mix of amusement and resignation.

“Nope,” you confirmed, sighing. “Not a chance.”

And thus, the silent war began.

During dinner, Airi made sure to sit pressed up against your side, her small, warm arm looped possessively around yours. Every time Kokonoi tried to speak to you, she’d cut in — her tone flat, her gaze sharp, tossing shade with the casual precision of a child who knew exactly how to get what she wanted.

“You’re sitting too close,” she declared when Kokonoi shifted his chair an inch nearer.

Kokonoi gave her a long, unreadable look… and leaned back with a sigh, clearly calculating his next move.

After dinner, you tried putting her to bed, but of course, that didn’t go smoothly either.

“She does this every time someone comes over,” you whispered when you reappeared, looking mildly exasperated.

Kokonoi, lounging on the couch, one arm draped casually over the back, smirked faintly.

“She’s protective,” he said simply, like that explained everything.

“You’re being generous,” you muttered, collapsing beside him, grateful for the moment of peace.

But just as the tension shifted, as Kokonoi leaned in a little closer, his eyes dark with something warmer, hungrier—

“Mommy! I need water!”

You groaned, already halfway to the kitchen, Kokonoi watching you with a resigned, faintly amused smile.

“She’s not going to let this happen, is she?” he murmured.

“Not a chance,” you called back, grabbing a glass.

And as the night stretched on, it became clear that Airi, your tiny, sassy gatekeeper, had won this round — and probably every round after.

۶ৎTetta Kisaki:

The evening light filtered through the window, casting a soft golden glow in the living room, while the faint scent of lavender and honey mixed with the sound of your daughter’s footsteps running across the hardwood floor. Your white maxi dress with the blue seashell and fruit print clung to you just enough to feel graceful and feminine, but the reality of your life had you focused on much more than your outfit. The halter neckline with the keyhole cutout felt flattering against your caramel-toned skin, and the blue piping accentuated the curves that had both the grace and strength of motherhood. The warm, soft feel of the fabric as it swayed with your movements made you feel light — a moment of calm before your daughter inevitably interrupted.

Layla, your 10-year-old daughter, was on the couch, sitting cross-legged, her dark brown eyes flickering with impatience. With a sharp mind that often made you think twice, she had an opinion about everything, and that included the people you brought around her. And now, someone was here — and Layla didn’t quite approve of him yet.

When the doorbell rang, you opened it to reveal Kisaki. He stood tall, sharp in his dark suit, his platinum blonde hair a stark contrast to the darkening evening. His cold, calculating eyes softened a little when they met yours, but the usual smug smirk played on his lips, always so confident in his approach.

“You look stunning,” he said, his voice smooth as always.

You smiled, half-flattered but aware of the tension in your chest. “Thank you.”

But as soon as you let him inside, Layla piped up from the living room. “Who’s that?”

You glanced back toward the couch, where Layla was sitting, arms crossed, a serious look on her face, her deep brown eyes narrowing slightly as she sized up Kisaki. She looked like she was calculating him, figuring out the angles, the weaknesses. She was smart, and she wasn’t quick to trust.

“Hey, Layla. This is Kisaki. He’s a… friend of mommy’s,” you said, trying to keep the tone light.

Layla looked at you, then at Kisaki, then back at you again, her expression unchanged. “A friend, huh?”

Kisaki raised an eyebrow but didn’t break his cool, collected demeanor. “That’s right. Just a friend.”

Layla’s mouth curved into a slight, knowing smirk. “So, are you going to be here for dinner or are you just here to stare at my mom?”

Her tone wasn’t rude, but it had the unmistakable bite of a child who wasn’t afraid to be blunt. And there was something in the way she said it — the way she didn’t flinch when Kisaki’s gaze met hers — that made it clear she wasn’t going to let him off easy.

Kisaki’s smirk didn’t falter, but you could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I’m here for dinner,” he replied, a trace of humor in his voice.

Layla didn’t move. She just stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to read him like an open book. It was clear from the way her eyes flickered that she wasn’t intimidated, just observant. A sharp, calculating mind wrapped in a 10-year-old’s body.

You shook your head slightly, both amused and exasperated. “Layla, go set the table, please.”

Her eyes flickered to you, then back to Kisaki, and she hesitated only for a moment before she stood and stalked off to the kitchen. Her steps were heavy, purposeful, and she muttered something incoherent as she passed by.

Kisaki looked at you, his expression unreadable. “She’s… something.”

You sighed, turning back to the kitchen where Layla had already taken charge. “She’s protective, that’s all,” you said.

Kisaki chuckled low in his throat. “I can tell.”

Dinner was an exercise in patience. Layla continued to challenge him with her snarky comments and hard stares. She didn’t make it easy for him, questioning every little thing he said with a critical eye. She’d interrupt the conversation to tell him how she preferred her food to be cooked, pointing out how she thought he was a little too fancy for a family dinner.

“Do you always wear suits?” Layla asked between bites of her food. “It’s not a formal occasion.”

Kisaki leaned back in his chair, his fingers lightly tapping the rim of his glass. ���I like to dress for the occasion,” he replied smoothly, his voice steady despite the underlying tension.

Layla wasn’t convinced. “And is this an occasion? Or is this just you trying to look important in front of my mom?”

You nearly choked on your drink, a laugh bubbling up, but you quickly stifled it, clearing your throat. “Layla, that’s enough.”

But Kisaki didn’t seem offended. He almost looked impressed, like he was enjoying this little game. “It’s fine,” he said, his eyes not leaving Layla’s. “But I’m not trying to look important. Just trying to get to know your mom.”

Layla narrowed her eyes. “I’m not stupid. You’re trying too hard.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Layla, please.”

But Layla didn’t seem to care. She’d made up her mind. This wasn’t just a regular dinner — this was a test. And she was going to see how Kisaki handled it, every little bit of it.

The rest of the evening didn’t get much easier. Kisaki tried to engage you in conversation, but Layla always seemed to have a way of interrupting at just the right moment — demanding more juice, needing to tell you something about her day, or giving you the “look” that told you she was still suspicious of him.

As the evening wore on, Layla finally retired to her room with a heavy sigh, giving you a moment to catch your breath. You turned to Kisaki, exhausted from the mental gymnastics of the evening.

“She’s a handful,” you said, massaging your temples.

“I’m not bothered,” Kisaki replied, his voice still smooth, but there was a glimmer of something in his eyes. “It’ll take more than that to stop me.”

You looked at him, half-amused, half-exasperated. “I’ll be honest — she’s not easy to win over. But she’ll eventually warm up… hopefully.”

Kisaki smiled, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’m patient. I’ll wait.”

And you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of something, something between excitement and apprehension, as you realized that this wasn’t going to be over quickly. Layla might be protective, but Kisaki wasn’t a man who gave up easily.

[pretty-weird-ideas]

Ao3 choosing to add onto a dogpile against a Black actor and his space in fandom when he is already being bashed by mainstream media and when he’s in the middle of the wrong place wrong time boycott due to another characters inclusion in his film is going to turn me into the joker. Wdym you're displacing thousands of already written Black centered works so that some made up racist #notmycap fan doesn't have an aneurysm? Implying that fans of Steve couldn't possibly be fans of Sam content and thus they need to quarantine him is actually so telling. They just assumed that Cap fans don't equal Sam fans and thus they don't want to see him.

Also the implication that PEGGY CARTER is a main character in the trilogy but SAM is not? Yeah Imma need answers. Ao3 choosing to announce this during the height of #notmycap and explicitly alt-right figures harassing Anthony Mackie for his statements on Captain America reeks of passive agreement in said anti-blackness. And if that wasn’t the case it’s almost worse, because it reeks of negligence and a refusal to read the room. Ao3 was unable to notice the dead horse while they ran to beat it?

Ao3 was unable to realize how racist it looked when they announced that they were going to segregate the Captain America tag so that the white character was the default and the Black character’s fans had to literally physically relocate using their own labor? And if I said “why don’t we ask the fans of the white character to move to the Steve tag?” Or “get both fans to move from Cap’s tag” everyone would act scandalized. Because deep down they know the amount of labor they’re asking of both authors and readers is obscene. Now, people attempting to read about Sam Wilson will have to physically look 10x harder for the content because you have intentionally buried his works in the improper tag and authors must scrub their works to tag him properly. Notice how this never happens to the characters that fit the comfortable default. It’s always telling the POC characters, OCs, or head canons to move to their own tag.

Jumping fans of Sam Wilson and by extension a Black Captain America with “and don’t forget to remind people you’ll never be like the rest of them!” When we’re CONSTANTLY harassed by that narrative is actually NOT helpful nor fun. Ao3 literally made a choice to remind ppl that fans would rather PRETEND that Sam doesn’t exist in canon publicly. And we’re supposed to believe that isn’t a massive error?