#aggressive keyboard noises

[mattsundaes]

hair down!karasu

“you’re so distracting,” you grouse as you feel your roommate’s chin come to rest on top of your head, your fingers stilling over your keyboard mid-sentence. 

“‘m bored,” karasu sighs. “and ya spelled specific wrong.”

tilting your head upward, you glare up at him while whacking the backspace key more aggressively than necessary with your middle finger, “because you distracted me!”

he stands back up, chuckling to himself and sauntering off into the kitchen to inevitably make more noise while you sacrifice what remains of your late-semester soul to the research paper gods. 

to be fair, the issue of him being a distraction is less about his shuffling and tittering about the apartment in boredom and moreso just about…him. 

well, a very specific part of him. 

you’ve been friends with karasu for years, you’re close. exceptionally close, you’d argue. and when the entire first floor of your dorm building flooded out last week, he offered you the spare room in his apartment—no questions asked.

it’s a temporary arrangement, so really, it should pose no risk to the neat and tidy little drawer that you keep your attraction to him shoved into the dark corners of. spending a few weeks underfoot with his warm accent, pretty eyes, dry humor, and gravely laugh shouldn’t kill you.

you’re been compartmentalizing it all like a champ for years, after all.

if subterfuge of unrequited pining was an olympic sport—

but you underestimated one tiny issue that you hadn’t quite thought out the consequences of when presented with the opportunity to cohabitate with karasu tabito. 

one little thing—

his hair.

his at home hair. 

his i’m not leaving the house or seeing anyone today hair. 

his clean, completely product-free, ridiculously attractive hair—which falls softly across his forehead, tickling the bridge of his nose. which flits along the shell of his ears and rests against the back of his neck.

(which makes you want to run for the hills and jump into his arms and flee the country and kiss him until you can’t breathe and—)

it’s funny, really, when you think about it. the fact that you’ve actually never seen karasu without styling wax in his hair somehow. it feels somewhat ridiculous thinking it out loud. 

but restricted exposure throughout the duration of your friendship thus far was clearly for the better, given the way you haven’t been able to stop glancing over at him every two minutes since he got out of the shower three hours ago. since he padded into the living room in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and plopped down on the other end of the couch, idly scrolling through his phone and entirely unaware of the crisis he’d unknowingly thrust upon your unsuspecting, fragile mind. 

because here’s the thing—on a normal day, you can squash them down, these inconvenient feelings of attraction. the way your heart flutters feebly against your ribcage at the sound of his voice, at the curve of his lips when you say something ridiculous that makes him smile. 

at the way he says your name, how you always seem to be the first person he calls after games. how he falls asleep with his head in your lap when you watch movies, the way he doesn’t even have to ask what you want when you’re ordering food or getting coffee because he just knows. 

but this. 

this. 

he’s sitting on the other end of the couch again, lazily running a hand through his hair and blowing it out of his eyes every so often while he taps away at a game on his phone. 

and yeah, you’ve never been quite so attracted to him as in this moment.

it’s not even just the fact that his hair is down, even though the back of your neck has yet to stop burning at the sight of it. 

it’s the undeniable domesticity of it all that has your heart racing in your chest. 

that has your fingers itching to toss your laptop aside, to crawl across the expanse of cushions and into his lap—

“please tell me you’re almost done,” karasu interrupts your treacherous train of thought. 

you find him on his hands and knees in front of where you’re seated sideways against the arm of the couch, positioned between your lazily spread legs with one hand hovering over the lid of your laptop, which he’s slowly pushing closed. 

“hey!” you choke out, both startled by the way your body reacts to his sudden proximity and the fact that you haven’t saved your document in fifteen minutes. 

hastily, you do just that, and the laptop snaps shut with a resounding click that seems to echo off of the walls of the apartment like a beacon while karasu stares back at you for a beat. 

a slow grin of victory spreads across his face when he uses one hand to transfer your laptop to the coffee table, but he makes no move to get off of you. 

“otoya and hiori wanna get dinner,” he tells you by way of explanation. 

it’s not fair how much more attractive his stupid, cute little mole looks with dark strands of hair falling against it—

“and?” you ask carefully. 

you just want to reach out and touch—

“and you gotta eat, too, so i’ve been waitin’ on you, princess.”

fucking pet names. one goddamn crisis at a time.

your ribcage is on the verge of becoming a triage center. 

“well, don’t you—shouldn’t you go and get ready, at least?” you do your best not to sound completely and entirely rattled as you gesture toward his hair. 

he looks up with just his eyes, as if he’s only just now noticing the origin of your afternoon’s torture. “what, does it look that bad?”

is he serious?

he smirks, and—oh. your breath hitches in your throat as you try to figure out when he got so close, when he shifted even higher to cage you in entirely between his tall, muscled frame and the plush, worn-in couch cushions. 

it makes you feel dizzy, being beneath him like this. 

karasu smells like the strawberries he was eating earlier, and your throat goes dry as you think about the way he’d outright fed one to you instead of handing it to you like a normal person when you asked. the way his fingertips had briefly touched your lips—

he smells like the fabric softener he’s used for years, and it’s seemingly the last remaining lifeline left to ground you in this moment. you grasp at it, almost desperately. 

you end up unconsciously fisting a hand in the fabric of his shirt instead. 

he leans in a little closer, close enough that his hair brushes against your forehead. 

it tickles. 

warmth blooms hot in your gut, petals of heat caressing your spine.  

“does it look bad?” he asks again. 

you can feel his breath skirt against your lips. 

“maybe,” you whisper, voice almost hoarse. because you need some sort of an upper hand here. 

he huffs, eyes locked on yours. “liar.”

“you’re distracting,” you tell him again for the—you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve said it today. 

one of his knees is slotted dangerously between your legs, and you try not to think about the way his thighs look in his kit. how often you have to tear your eyes away from the sight of them when you’re watching his games. 

fucking footballers. 

“am i?” 

you nod slowly, and you wonder what his lips taste like. how he kisses. if they’re as warm as the body heat that’s blanketing you while he keeps you bracketed beneath him. 

if he’d methodically break you down like he does to his opponents on the field—if he’d call you some other endearing thing in that pretty accent of his while your legs are wrapped around his waist, while you’re carding your fingers through his hair and parting your lips and gasping his name. 

you wonder if he’d take it slow and drag his nose down your cheek before sliding his lips along the curve of your jaw. 

if he’d kiss you long and deep, licking his way into your mouth with one hand splayed against your throat and another curled around your hip. 

if he’d—

“you’re distracting, too, ya know,” he whispers. 

“what?” your heart’s pounding so loudly in your chest, you’re not sure if you heard him right. 

karasu taps your chin lightly with his pointer finger. “ya read out loud, and ya sing to yourself while you’re cookin’ and cleanin’.”

embarrassment washes over you as you begin to realize what a bothersome house guest you’ve probably unintentionally become over the past few days. “i’m sorry, i’m just so used to living alone, and—“

he cuts you off abruptly, “i said you’re distracting, not that i didn’t like it.”

you blink up at him owlishly, and your chest tightens in confusion as you breathe out what seems to be one of the few last remaining words in the wasteland of your mental dictionary, “what?”

“you have a pretty voice,” he murmurs, thumb ghosting over the edge of your bottom lip. “i like hearin’ it.”

you feel breathless when you exhale the only other thing you can think to say, “karasu.”

his eyes fall shut for a moment, and he smiles. “i love the way you say my name.”

your tongue dances impatiently against the back of your teeth as you swallow, testing the weight of three different syllables—

“tabito,” you whisper. 

he opens his eyes suddenly, and he stares down at you with an expression that has your toes curling against the couch cushions. 

“you should only say that if ya want me to kiss ya,” he rasps. 

your fingers tremble slightly as you reach up and touch his hair, slowly brushing the tips across his mole. he catches your hand when you go to pull away, keeping it there. 

“tabito.”

karasu’s mouth crashes into yours. 

[kitsurinfleur]

@finnifenn I'm calling you and your loud keyboard out

Guys if you sent asks about the simplest things to me I would see you as the most epic person ever

"do you like reptiles?" Hell yeah thanks for asking

"what's your favourite colour?" Orange! You have made my day better by asking

"favourite sound?" The sound of my friends footsteps in a game or keysmashes in a VC. Happy friends are close by sounds. These thoughts brings me joy

Please ask me random stuff, I am bored

[miaoua3]

(pairing: wonwoo x f!reader)

you huff tiredly while laying down on the couch, feeling like you were about to fall asleep any minute now, but also like something was preventing you from doing so.

you turn back around for the nth time, staring tiredly at the ceiling. picking up the phone to look at the time, you see that it’s only 11pm.

huffing yet again as you drop your phone, your ears pick up the noise of the keyboard being aggressively pressed repeatedly from the bedroom that you share with your boyfriend.

deciding that enough is enough, you get up and walk to your room.

wonwoo, ever the perfect looking man that he is, is sitting in his chair, leaned back while typing on the keyboard at the speed of light, eyebrows furrowed in what you know to be frustration.

but you ignore the possibility that he might be irritated and/or angry.

this isn’t about him.

this is about the cuddles.

quickly walking up to him, you tap his shoulder to get his attention.

startled, he pauses the game briefly, sliding down his headphones as he looks at you questionably.

“hi love, do you need something? or did i wake you up maybe? i’m so sorr-“, he tries to finish.

you ignore the words coming out of his mouth, and instead just lift one of his arms away from the desk. sliding between the desk and himself, you then struggle for a bit as you try to sit yourself on his lap sideways, being very careful not to kick anything with your foot.

wonwoo, seeing what you were attempting to do, smiles as he takes both of his hands to pull you closer to himself, manoeuvring you so easily as if you weighed nothing.

finally being comfortable on his lap, you loop your arms around his neck before you let your head rest on his shoulder.

wonwoo looks down at you for a bit before pressing a kiss to your hair, reaching for his keyboard with his hands.

but at that action, you just whine in protest.

confused, he just mumbles a little “hm?” to you.

sleepily you mumble back “i’m sleepy but can’t fall asleep”.

finally realising that your plan all along was to interrupt his game and distract him, before telling him that you want to sleep and for him to join you, wonwoo chuckles a bit before he responds with a little “okay.”

he quickly saves his game and turns off his pc, all while you float in and out of sleep.

after a minute or so, he finally pushes his chair away before he grabs you tightly and stands up. crossing the room in few steps, he gently lays your form on your side of the bed, before rounding the bed to his own.

quickly getting in the bed, he drops his glasses on the nightstand before he turns off the light.

finally, he scoots closer to you, bringing his arms around your body and pulling your warm form closer to his.

by the time he kisses your temple gently and whispers a little “good night”, you are already (or in your case, finally) asleep.

when you wake up the next morning, you will realise the thing that was missing the previous night was the peace that the love of your life brings to you.

[dykeadvocate]

phone calls

pairing: abby anderson x fem!reader

content: dom!abby, sub!reader, fingering (a receiving), cunnilingus (a receiving), praise, degrading, masturbation, punishments, abby on the phone while getting fucked, bratty!reader.

You love to push Abby’s boundaries and buttons, and behaving in a way that you know enrages Abby, forcing her to give you the attention that you crave. But sometimes, it backfires on you.

You’re kneeling between Abby’s thighs with your hands neatly folded in your lap and a large dildo buried deep inside of you. Abby gave you strict instructions to stay quiet and still while she worked. The only attention she has given you was a quick slap to the face when you tried protesting, other than that, she’s completely ignored you.

Normally, you’re well-behaved when Abby is punishing you, but you're desperate for Abby's attention. The urge to grind on the dildo and the slick that is leaking down your thighs isn’t helping either.

You glance up at Abby. Her brows are furrowed and she’s aggressively typing on her keyboard, obviously having to deal with some stupid man from her work.

“Fuckin’ Owen.” She mutters angrily, grabbing her phone and dialling a number. She raises the phone to her ear, her voice changing to a cheerful one once she’s picked up.

“Hey Owen, I’ve seen that you’ve…” Her words become background noise as an idea hits you.

You slide your hands up Abby’s muscular thighs, pushing them apart slightly. Abby glances down at you, giving you a warning glare. You innocently smile, your hands continuing their path towards her heat.

In this moment, you’re grateful for Abby deciding to only wear boxers as you’re able to easily slip them off her hips, giving you access to her. You suppress a whimper at the sight of her dripping cunt, apparently, she’s not the only one desperate for attention.

You brush your thumb against Abby’s throbbing clit, chuckling at how her hips jerked towards your hand, begging for more. Using your spare hand, you spread Abby’s thighs further apart. You drag your fingers through her slick before softly pushing them into her awaiting hole.

Her walls are immediately clamping around your fingers, and she throws her head back, covering her mouth to muffle a moan. Your soft moans follow hers as you start to grind on the dildo.

“You okay, Abby?” You hear Owen ask through the phone speaker.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just hit my toe on the table,” Abby lies, attempting to push your hand away from her.

Instead of pulling away from her, you wrap your arms around her thighs, dragging her closer to the edge of her seat, and wrapping your lips around her clit, sucking softly. You push your two fingers back into Abby, curling them to hit the spot that drives her insane.

“Fuck. Owen, I’m gonna need to call you back. Alice just knocked over one of my vases,” Abby hits the hang up button before he could protest.

You moan loudly into her cunt as she grabs onto your hair, pulling you further into her. The pleasure from the dildo and the pain from her pulling your hair forces you to the edge of your orgasm.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare cum,” Abby grunts, grinding her hips into your face, desperately wanting to reach her high.

You could decide to ignore her, but instead you mumble a quiet, “Yes, Abby.”

“God, you’re such a whore. Couldn’t even wait till I was off the phone before touchin’ me, huh?” Abby’s voice is surprising dominant compared to her whiney moans. “Couldn’t even follow simple instructions either, fuck, always gonna be my little brat, aren’t you?”

You hum, cherishing the way she struggles to keep up with your fingers as her orgasm approaches. Your moans become louder as you struggle to control your own orgasm, every bounce causes the dildo to rub against your g-spot.

“That’s it, baby. Doing such a good job fucking yourself like some pathetic slut. Fuck, look at the mess you’ve made, you’re dripping all over my floor.”

You feel your face heat up at Abby’s comment. You are absolutely soaked and now there’s a puddle of your slick between your thighs. If your face wasn’t buried between Abby’s thighs, you would be more embarrassed.

Suddenly, Abby’s thighs clamp around your head and her back arches. A loud pornographic moan leaves her lips as her orgasm washes over her. She quickly becomes overstimulated and pushes your head away.

You carefully pull your fingers out from Abby, wrapping your mouth around them and moaning at the taste of her.

“Taste s’ good, Abs,”

Abby hums, wrapping her arms around your waist and easily lifting you into her lap. You cry out in frustration as the dildo slips out of you, leaving you with an uncomfortable feeling of emptiness.

“Poor baby.” Abby coos, her fingers tracing around your clenching hole. “All stretched out and ready for my cock – if only you had behaved, though.”

Your mouth falls open in protest, “But, Abby- “

Abby delivers a sharp slap to your thigh, “Don’t complain. You should be thanking me for even allowing you to fuck yourself."

“Thank you for letting me fuck myself,” You mumble, embarrassment flooding your system.

Abby kisses your forehead, “Such good manners,”

You preen at her praise, assuming that she was about to let you off the hook. But you couldn’t be more wrong.

Abby wraps her arms around your thighs, easily picking you up and walking towards the bedroom. You try to ask her what she’s doing but she’s dead silent – not a good sign. You knew not to disturb her while she worked, especially when you’re being punished. Yet, you decided to be a brat and disturb her.

You thought that being stripped of her attention and being edged was enough of a punishment, but she obviously didn’t think so.

Abby throws you on the bed, forcing your thighs apart and positioning herself between them.

"Always gotta be a fuckin' brat while I'm working," You yelp as Abby's hand comes slapping down on your clit. "Bet you act like this so I can punish you, huh? Dirty girl."

"Abby, I-"

You choke on your words as Abby pushes three fingers into you. She curls them perfectly, forcing a pornographic moan to fall from your lips. She wraps her mouth around your clit, flicking her tongue mercilessly as her fingers pump vigorously into you.

"Oh my god," You whine, your back arching off the bed.

She suddenly pulls away, "You are not to cum unless I allow it, do you understand?" You nod, but that isn't enough for her. "Words, baby."

"Yes, Abby. I understand," You whimper, hoping that she goes back to what she was doing before.

Instead, she decides to tease you. Her wet fingers glide over your stomach, leaving wet marks in their tracks. She continues to slowly drag her fingers across your exposed skin until you're crying out for her.

"Please, Abby," You sob, tears welling in your eyes. You feel pathetic.

She chuckles before placing her mouth back over your heat and thrusting her fingers into you. You feel yourself getting close, faltering right on the line of that blissful pleasure. Your hands seek solace in her hair, tugging at her braid and hips grinding against her.

Then she stops.

The confused look on your face makes her laugh, "Did you really think I'd let you cum, brat?"

MUCH LOVE TO @abbyism TO HELPING ME FINISH THIS <33

[moonmaiden1996]

Love at First Sight (According to Nagumo, Anyway) Part Four

The day started like any other.

You clocked in, greeted your colleagues, and settled into the rhythmic hum of the office. The air buzzed with the usual symphony of monotony—keyboards clacking in uneven rhythms, the soft rustle of paper as reports shuffled from desk to desk, the occasional ring of a phone slicing through the background noise. The fluorescent lights flickered with a faint buzz, casting a sterile glow over the workspace, draining everything of warmth. There was a steady hum to it all, a constant reminder of the predictable grind that you’d grown so used to. You could almost hear the collective sigh of resignation in the air.

But something felt... off.

For once, it didn’t feel suffocating. There were no passive-aggressive emails lurking in your inbox, no last-minute assignments dumped on your desk like an avalanche, no looming sense of dread clinging to your shoulders like a phantom. If anything, the office felt... calm. Too calm.

People worked efficiently, their movements smooth, their interactions void of the usual tension. No whispered complaints in the break room. No lingering glares exchanged across cubicles. The unspoken power struggles that usually brewed beneath the surface had vanished overnight. It was unnerving. There was no edge, no undercurrent of stress. Just... quiet.

It was unnatural.

But you weren’t about to question it. For the first time in ages, you weren’t drowning under an unbearable workload. The constant, crushing weight had lifted, leaving you with an alien sense of ease. You even found yourself enjoying the silence, savoring the rare sensation of peace that filled the office. The work felt manageable, the day stretched out before you, almost idyllic. And for once, you didn’t feel like an imposter just trying to survive.

Then, without warning, your boss called an emergency meeting.

The office gathered hesitantly, confusion thick in the air. Your boss stood at the front, gripping the edge of the desk as if it were the only thing keeping him upright. His normally composed demeanor had cracked. His face was pale, his jaw clenched, and his eyes darted to unseen corners of the room, as though something lurked just out of sight, waiting for the right moment to strike. A chill settled in your gut. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

“I—” His voice cracked. He swallowed hard and tried again.

“I’m resigning. Effective immediately.”

The words landed like a thunderclap. The room went deathly quiet. The fluorescent lights above flickered, the buzz now almost oppressive as your colleagues exchanged confused glances. You barely had time to process what was happening before your boss’s shaky hands wiped across his brow, his eyes wide, as though he’d seen something none of you could. “I—I can’t do this anymore,” he stammered. “The stress, the atmosphere... it’s too much. I need to put my health first.”

A murmur rippled through the room, unease creeping into everyone’s expressions. People whispered, but no one dared challenge him. The atmosphere?

Sure, work had its fair share of stress, but lately, things had been running almost too smoothly. No disasters. No major conflicts. Nothing that should have driven a man to the brink. Yet here he was, pale, trembling, abandoning his position as if something had hunted him out of it.

Your stomach twisted. A prickle of unease slithered down your spine, slow and insidious, worming its way into your thoughts. There was something you were missing.

Before you could fully process what had happened, your colleagues turned to you.

“Congratulations,” they said. “You’re in charge now.”

The words barely registered. Your mind reeled from the surrealness of the situation, processing the events in fragmented moments. You didn’t know what to feel. Was this some kind of joke? You blinked, trying to reconcile the surrealness of the situation with the new reality settling over you.

But as the reality settled in, something unexpected flickered through the unease.

Pride.

You had worked hard. You deserved this. You were officially in charge now. The promotion was yours, whether or not it made sense. Whatever had happened to your boss—whatever unseen force had rattled him to his core—wasn’t your problem anymore. It was your moment.

The rest of the day passed in a strange blur. People were still cooperative, still unnervingly respectful, but there was something else now. Something just beneath the surface. A silent shift in the air, like an unspoken rule had settled over the office. No one questioned your authority. No one challenged you.

It should have felt like a victory.

And in some ways, it did.

By the time your shift ended, you felt something dangerously close to happiness. A rare thing. A feeling you hadn’t had in a long time. The weight of the day, the stress, the worry—it had all melted away, leaving you with a sense of lightness you couldn’t remember ever feeling. You decided to stop by Sakamoto’s convenience store on the way home—a small indulgence to celebrate. Wine, something sweet, maybe your usual coffee. You didn’t even care about the weird vibe from that odd guy you’d seen there before. Nothing would ruin this perfect day.

The store’s bell chimed softly as you stepped inside, the familiar scent of warm bread and instant ramen greeting you. For the first time in a long while, you felt light. The rhythmic hum of the store was like a balm, washing away the tension still clinging to you from the office.

And then—

“Ah, my love, you’re back again.”

The voice was smooth, teasing—dripping with amusement. It hit your ears like a faint, unwelcomed melody.

You turned towards the counter.

And there he was.

Nagumo.

Leaning against the counter like he owned the place, his sharp eyes locking onto you the moment you stepped in. His smirk widened, like he had been expecting this moment, like he knew you’d walk in at just the right time. The same sense of confidence that both irked and intrigued you.

And—

For the first time—

You smiled at him.

Just a small thing. Barely there. But real. A flicker of amusement in your expression. Maybe it was the pleasant mood of the day, or maybe you were just too tired to argue with him. Either way, there it was—a smile that you hadn’t realized you were even capable of.

Nagumo’s eyes gleamed. His smirk twitched, curling into something smug and undeniably pleased.

“Well, now,” he mused, pushing off the counter with an easy, lazy confidence. “Look at you. Practically glowing.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real bite to it. “It’s been a good day.”

He hummed, tilting his head in consideration. “A promotion, was it?”

You blinked at him, startled. “How did you—”

He grinned. “I pay attention to my darling’s life, of course.”

Something stirred at the back of your mind. A shadow of a thought, a fleeting recognition of something you should have been piecing together. But before you could grasp it, Nagumo leaned in slightly, his voice dropping into a light, playful lilt.

“Well, my dear,” he purred, “since you’re in such high spirits, why not let me take you out on a proper date?”

The teasing lilt was expected. The casual arrogance. The confidence.

What wasn’t expected was your reaction.

Because you—

Didn’t immediately refuse.

You hesitated. Just for a second. A moment too long.

Nagumo noticed. Of course, he did. His eyes gleamed, the satisfaction in them unmistakable. He had won. You were a step closer to whatever game he was playing.

And then—

“…Sure,” you said, smiling no less.

Nagumo actually blinked. Like he hadn’t expected you to say yes. But the shock was fleeting, vanishing almost as soon as it came. His grin stretched wider, delight dancing across his expression.

“My, my,” he practically purred. “Finally coming to your senses, are we?”

You scoffed, shaking your head, but you still didn’t take it back. Maybe it was just the good mood. Maybe you were too tired to argue. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t entirely hate the idea.

Then—

“OH, HELL NO.”

The moment shattered.

You turned just in time to see Shin Asakura pointing an accusatory finger directly at Nagumo.

“You—you did WHAT?!” Shin shouted. “I thought Aoi said not to start threatening peopleeee!” Shin was practically vibrating with disbelief. “You scared off her boss, I am pretty sure that was on the list of things not to do!”

The store fell into a stunned silence.

Your breath hitched. The words didn’t make sense at first.

Scared off…?

Your boss. His pale face. His shaking hands. His darting eyes, like something was hunting him.

The eerily cooperative colleagues. The unspoken wariness. The unnatural smoothness of your day.

Realization crashed over you, ice-cold and suffocating.

Before you could respond, Sakamoto sighed heavily, grabbing Shin by the collar and dragging him toward the back.

Shin flailed. “WAIT—I’M RIGHT! I’M RIGHT, DAMN IT!” His voice echoed in the shop, but Sakamoto was already pulling him further into the back.

Sakamoto ignored him, muttering under his breath. “Great. Now I’ll never get rid of him.”

And just like that, they disappeared into the back room, leaving you with him.

You snapped your gaze towards Nagumo, searching his face for some kind of denial.

But Nagumo—

Didn’t even bother lying.

He just smirked, utterly unbothered, slipping his hands into his pockets. Nagumo chuckled softly. “Whatever you say, my love. Shall we go? I know a good noodle place with amazing coffee. You will love it.”

SOOOOOOO? What you think?

[steinfellds]

Calling Her Phone [W.M]

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You love to push Wanda's boundaries and buttons, and behaving in a way that you know enrages Wanda, forcing her to give you the attention that you crave. But sometimes, it backfires on you.

Content: Dom!Wanda, sub!reader, fingering (W receiving), cunnilingus (W receiving), praise, degrading, masturbation, punishments, Wanda on the phone while getting fucked, bratty!reader, mommy kink.

You’re kneeling between Wanda's thighs with your hands neatly folded in your lap and a large dildo buried deep inside of you. Wanda gave you strict instructions to stay quiet and still while she worked. The only attention she has given you was a quick slap to the face when you tried protesting, other than that, she’s completely ignored you.

Normally, you’re well-behaved when Wanda is punishing you, but you're desperate for Wanda's attention. The urge to grind on the dildo and the slick that is leaking down your thighs isn’t helping either.

You glance up at Wanda. Her brows are furrowed and she’s aggressively typing on her keyboard, obviously having to deal with some stupid man from her work.

“God, Tony.” She mutters angrily, grabbing her phone and dialling a number. She raises the phone to her ear, her voice changing to a cheerful one once she’s picked up.

“Hey Tony, I’ve seen that you’ve…” Her words become background noise as an idea hits you.

You slide your hands up Wanda's thighs, pushing them apart slightly. Wanda glances down at you, giving you a warning glare. You innocently smile, your hands continuing their path towards her heat.

At this moment, you’re grateful for Wanda deciding to only wear panties as you’re able to easily slip them off her hips, giving you access to her. You suppress a whimper at the sight of her dripping cunt, apparently, she’s not the only one desperate for attention.

You brush your thumb against Wanda's throbbing clit, chuckling at how her hips jerked towards your hand, begging for more. Using your spare hand, you spread Wanda's thighs further apart. You drag your fingers through her slick before softly pushing them into her awaiting hole.

Her walls are immediately clamping around your fingers, and she throws her head back, covering her mouth to muffle a moan. Your soft moans follow hers as you start to grind on the dildo.

“You okay, Wanda?” You hear Tony ask through the phone speaker.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just hit my toe on the table,” Wanda lies, attempting to push your hand away from her.

Instead of pulling away from her, you wrap your arms around her thighs, dragging her closer to the edge of her seat, and wrapping your lips around her clit, sucking softly. You push your two fingers back into Wanda, curling them to hit the spot that drives her insane.

“Fuck. Tony, I’m gonna need to call you back.” Wanda hits the end call button before he can protest.

You moan loudly into her cunt as she grabs onto your hair, pulling you further into her. The pleasure from the dildo and the pain from her pulling your hair forces you to the edge of your orgasm.

“Don’t you dare cum, slut.” Wanda grunts, grinding her hips into your face, desperately wanting to reach her high.

You could decide to ignore her, but instead, you mumble, “Yes, mommy.”

“God, you’re such a whore. Couldn’t even wait till I was off the phone before touching me?” Wanda's voice is surprisingly dominant compared to her whiney moans. “Couldn’t even follow simple instructions either, fuck, always gonna be my little brat, aren’t you?”

You hum, cherishing the way she struggles to keep up with your fingers as her orgasm approaches. Your moans become louder as you struggle to control your own orgasm, every bounce causes the dildo to rub against your g-spot.

“That’s it, baby. Doing such a good job fucking yourself like some pathetic slut. Fuck, look at the mess you’ve made, you’re dripping all over my floor.”

You feel your face heat up at Wanda's words. You are absolutely soaked and now there’s a puddle of your slick between your thighs. If your face wasn’t buried between Wanda's thighs, you would be more embarrassed.

Suddenly, Wanda's thighs clamp around your head and her back arches. A loud pornographic moan leaves her lips as her orgasm washes over her. She quickly becomes overstimulated and pushes your head away.

You carefully pull your fingers out from Wanda, wrapping your mouth around them and moaning at the taste of her.

“Taste s’ good, Wands,”

Wanda hums, wrapping her arms around your waist and easily lifting you into her lap. You cry out in frustration as the dildo slips out of you, leaving you with an uncomfortable feeling of emptiness.

“Poor baby.” Wanda coos, her fingers tracing around your clenching hole. “All stretched out and ready for my cock – if only you had behaved, though.”

Your mouth falls open in protest, “But, mommy- “

Wanda delivers a sharp slap to your thigh, “Don’t complain. You should be thanking me for even allowing you to fuck yourself."

“Thank you for letting me fuck myself,” You mumble, embarrassment flooding your system.

Wanda kisses your forehead, “Such good manners,”

You preen at her praise, assuming that she was about to let you off the hook. But you couldn’t be more wrong.

Her fingertips suddenly are encased in red wisps, your body is lifted from her lap, and she stands, walking towards the bedroom. Her magic hovers you over the ground and forces you to follow her. You try to ask her what she’s doing but she’s dead silent – not a good sign. You knew not to disturb her while she worked, especially when you were punished. Yet, you decided to be a brat and disturb her.

You thought that being stripped of her attention and being edged was enough of a punishment, but she obviously didn’t think so.

Wanda's magic throws you on the bed, and she forces your thighs apart and positions herself between them.

"You always are a little brat while I'm working, aren't you?" You yelp as Wanda's hand comes slapping down on your clit. "Bet you act like this so I can punish you, huh? Dirty girl."

"Mommy, I-"

You choke on your words as Wanda pushes three fingers into you. She curls them perfectly, forcing a pornographic moan to fall from your lips. She wraps her mouth around your clit, flicking her tongue mercilessly as her fingers pump vigorously into you.

"Oh my god," You whine, your back arching off the bed.

She suddenly pulls away, "You are not to cum unless I allow it, do you understand?" You nod, but that isn't enough for her. "Words, baby."

"Yes, mommy. I understand," You whimper, hoping that she goes back to what she was doing before.

Instead, she decides to tease you. Her wet fingers glide over your stomach, leaving wet marks in their tracks. She continues to slowly drag her fingers across your exposed skin until you're crying out for her.

"Please, Wanda," You sob, tears welling in your eyes. You feel pathetic.

She chuckles before placing her mouth back over your heat and thrusting her fingers into you. You feel yourself getting close, faltering right on the line of that blissful pleasure. Your hands seek solace in her hair, tugging at her braid and hips grinding against her.

Then she stops.

The confused look on your face makes her laugh, "Did you really think I'd let you cum, brat?"

[suskz]

anon ask: Hey pookie 💕 Can I pls request boyfriend Chan while his girlfriend is working on her bachelors project because I’m about to graduate and I’m STRESSED 😭😭😭 Can be any genre you want tbh, fluff, comfort, smut whatever you feel like atm

pairing: Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

t/w: fluff ; clingy Channie ; stressed reader ; reader is not good at taking breaks.

w/c: 1.4k

a/n: I hope you like it! And good luck with your graduation! 😊

When he returns to the living room, you're still sitting on the couch with your computer on your lap and the low noise of the TV in the background.

His hand stops rubbing the towel on his wet hair and he sighs through his nose, looking at you.

He approaches the couch slowly, getting behind you without being noticed. His hand lands under your chin and tilts your head back, gently lifting your face towards the ceiling, where he placed his smiling face so you can look at him.

You're taken by surprise, but you don't startle, you don't have the time.

"It's not good to keep your head down like that for too long." he informs you, observing your upside-down face.

"Nor is it good to keep it like this.” you affirm, easily removing his hand and returning to look at the computer screen.

He huffs, "I just wanted a kiss." He pouts and walks around the couch to sit next to you. And he looks at you.

For a while, you pretend his presence doesn't bother you, but you feel the weight of his eyes on you, and eventually, you give in. You turn towards him and kiss away that cute pout from his lips. "Happy now?"

He smiles at you. Finally.

"No, I want more." He tries to kiss you again, but you move away and don't let him.

"Later," you return to typing on the keyboard, "And you still need to dry your hair."

"I want you to do it for me. I prefer it when you do it."

"Chan, I can't right now, do it yourself." You try to make him leave, but he doesn't give up.

"Pretty please?" When you look at him, you can't resist his puppy eyes.

You sigh, "Bring the hairdryer."

At your words, he smiles widely and quickly gets up from the couch to fetch the object from the bathroom and bring it to the living room to you.

You put the computer aside and plug in the cord while Chan settles between your legs, sitting on the floor with his back against the couch.

You turn on the hairdryer and start drying his hair. Your fingers move through his curls, grabbing and slightly pulling them, while the warmth spreads, slowly returning them to their fluffiness.

His body relaxes at your gentle touch, his eyes close, and his mind empties. He loves it when you touch his hair; he could stay there all day with your hands caressing them.

But everything has an end, and you turn off the hairdryer when his hair is completely dry. When you're done, you ruffle his hair aggressively, affectionately.

His head gently falls back, resting on the couch between your open legs. When you lower your gaze, he opens his eyes and smiles at you, his dimples showing on his cheeks.

Your heart fills with affection. He's so cute and pretty and you just want to kiss him all over his face.

Instead, you smile at him and place your hands on his cheeks, gently stroking his cheekbones with your thumbs.

When he stands up, he steals a kiss from you before bringing the object back in its place. He's cuddly.

Indeed, when he comes back to you and notices that you've already returned to the computer, his face falls and he approaches you.

"Y/n," he whines, sitting on the couch and looking at you, again, "Give me attention." He buries his face in the crook of your neck, hugging your waist, consequently causing you to take your fingers off the keyboard and raise your arms a little to give him space.

"Chan..." you call him, exhausted, "I have to work on the project, you know; I can't get distracted." You affirm.

It's been a few days since you spent some time with him, but only because you have to work on your bachelor project for graduation. You procrastinated, thinking it would be easy, but you regret it because it turned out to be harder than you thought, and now you have so much to do, and you just feel stressed.

"Yes, you can," he says, looking up at you, "Leave the computer for a little while and be with me; I missed you these days." He says the last sentence with a lower tone, pouty.

Guilt washes over you; you didn't want to stay away from him, but you thought it was necessary until this period is over.

"I missed you too, but you know how hard this work is and it takes time." You explain to him, as if he hadn’t already understood.

He sighs. He's trying to get your attention so you’ll take a break. He's not actually good at it himself, but when it comes to you, he knows what’s best for you and he’s always ready to help you understand it. But you didn't listen to him, and now he finds himself having to force you in a way that doesn't make you understand his true intentions.

But you understood. "Are you trying to distract me from the project?"

He keeps his gaze low and he’s silent for a few seconds, and you can clearly hear the thousand thoughts running through his head as he searches for a good answer.

But he doesn't find it. "Why should I?" He asks instead.

"Because you've been trying for days, and you're insisting too much on needing attention, it's unlike you." It's true. Chan can ask for cuddles, but he's never too insistent if he sees that you're busy doing something else.

"Uh... maybe?" Then he groans, "Yes, you’re right." He admits, "Can you take a short break now and spend time with your boyfriend? Please?" He asks pleadingly.

You're ready to say no, but then you stop to look at him. You sigh and chuckle slightly at his desperation.

Actually, thinking about it, you're tired. It wouldn't hurt to detach yourself from the subject that has kept you busy and isolated from the rest of the world for days.

That's why after saving the progress of the work on the document you were writing, you lie down in bed with him.

Your head is resting on his chest, the steady beat of his heart serene and soothing to your ears as he places an arm over your body in an affectionate gesture.

His hand caresses your hair as you gently scratch his still arm.

“You should never forget to take care of yourself, even if you’re busy; it worries me otherwise.” he says seriously, looking at an indistinct point in the room.

“That’s why you’re here with me.” you indirectly thank him, kissing the bare skin of his chest.

“Yet you don’t listen to me.” he disapproves, but it’s more playful now.

“Now you understand how I feel every time you work too much and don’t listen to me.” you tease.

“I’ll listen to you more often from now on.” he promises, but you don’t believe his words. You won’t until you see actual actions, but you know he really wants to try and will do his best.

“You need to keep your word though.”

His legs shift in the bed, rolling to one side and then returning, “I will.”

You bring out your pinky finger from one hand and present it to him. He looks at it for a few seconds, surprised, then crosses his own finger with yours, smiling at your cuteness, “You know it doesn’t mean anything to me, right?”

“But it does to me,” you say, “So commit to keeping the promise.”

“Right now, it’s you who needs to keep that same promise, though.”

“I never promised anything.” you speak the pure and authentic truth, but naturally he doesn’t like this.

You understand it especially when you feel his hand on your hair stop at a point, grab some strands, and pull slightly but enough to cause you pain.

“Ow!” You complain, giving him a light slap on the arm resting on you, then sitting up to look him in the face, “Why did you do that?!” You snap at him.

He gives you a fiery look, “You didn’t promise, but you’ll do it anyway.” He tries to sound serious and threatening, but seeing how cute you look while massaging your head, he can’t help but chuckle and wrap his arms around you in a loving embrace. You always get your way with him, even without trying.

“What, you love me now?” You say, offended, making him roll his eyes and ignore your dramatic words.

“Will you give me those kisses I asked for earlier, now?”

[nakahras]

᯽ wet dreamz • osamu dazai

synopsis • you’ve been having some dubious dreams about one (1) osamu dazai and you let it slip.

warnings • swearing, lucid dreaming, fem!reader, ņsfw, dazai (he needs his own warning, yes), nickname “bella” is used, hair pulling, some light hand stuff/teasing, oral (f -> m), no set dynamic (both parties switch), masturbation (f), clothed sex, edging, finger sucking, slight choking, creampie, overstimulation, pussy drunk dazai, this is a long one >.<, also mildly unedited

wc • 6.8k

a/n • ahahahaha i don’t know

his hands are all over you, all at once, but it’s still not enough. you can’t pinpoint why because in all honesty it should be borderline overwhelming. but it’s not.

maybe you’re just greedy. you’ve been waiting for this for so long that you’ve been dreaming about it. dreaming? something washes over you and, once again, you can’t place it. you shake it off internally. how could you pay anything much attention when what you should be paying attention to is the man underneath you pawing at your skin.

he’s demanding all of your attention and you’ll gladly give it to him. you don’t remember how you got here, or how you got his shirt off but you dip down and kiss his exposed and surprisingly sun kissed skin. everything is blurry, the feeling of his skin under your lips, the image of him shirtless underneath you and the sensation of his nimble fingers kneading at your ass. 

before you can overthink it, he gets impatient and guides your hips to grind down on his hardened crotch. your mind is the next thing to become blurry. you straighten up and throw your head back as the sensation of the friction overtakes your senses. you want more, need more.

as if the brunette could read your mind, he’s tugging at your panties. it’s only then that you realize, he’s pantless as well. things felt like they were going too fast and also too slow all at once. you sit yourself back down on his length and continue to grind down on him.

your head is swimming and distantly you hear ringing in your ears. you ignore it though, the sounds of his moans drowning out any other noise. his grip on your bottom tightens and he lifts your hips up expertly aligning himself with your entrance.

he’s about to sit you back down and stretch you out but the ringing gets louder and everything goes white.

᯽•᯽

you woke this morning in a pool of your own sweat — thighs rubbing together desperately seeking out the same sensations you experienced in your dream. 

now you’re sitting at your desk feeling extremely embarrassed and, frankly, frustrated that you had yet another wet dream about your coworker, dazai osamu. 

you let out a huff while typing up a report on yesterday’s case. of all people in this office it just had to be the most insufferable of them all. why did he have to be so gorgeous? why couldn’t you think the same of kunikida? hell, even ranpo would have been a better choice than dazai. you think your subconscious is cruel. laughing at you, making fun of you by giving you wet dreams. you felt like a fucking teenager. hell, you don’t think you even had wet dreams when you were an adolescent going through puberty. how utterly embarrassing.

you let out yet another exasperated sigh, brows furrowed and fingers typing furiously. you were making a spectacle and your deskmates had long since noticed your sour mood. atsushi and kunikida were the smart ones, they simply let you be, figuring if you wanted to talk about it you would bring it up. 

dazai, however, is nosey. his natural curiosity always getting the better of him. he builds a simple paper airplane and shoots it through the air. it lands right on your keyboard and your aggressive typing finally ceases. you stare at the airplane as if you’ve never seen one in your entire life. you refuse to look up, fearing that if you look at dazai you’ll be reminded of what your subconscious thinks of him. you don’t think you can handle that quite yet.

dazai watches, slightly perturbed, as you seem to try to make his little creation spontaneously combust. no matter how unsettling, dazai still isn’t deterred. atsushi shoots him a warning look, as if to say this wasn’t a good idea. the brunette blatantly ignores the boy and wheels himself over to your part of the desk, which was a show in itself since you’re on the complete opposite side of where he was sat. that means dazai has to push himself past either atsushi or kunikida. of course, him being the menace that he is, dazai chooses the harder path of going around kunikida.

you don’t see it because you’re still having a staring contest with your little gift but kunikida’s eye twitches as dazai swivels past him. the blonde was going to take the high road though. he was going to let it slide since you seemed to need the distraction. but dazai was clumsy and clipped his wheels on the ones of his partner’s chair. kunikida’s eye twitches and he can’t help himself.

”dazai…” it’s a simple warning. one that the brown eyed detective promptly ignores.

dazai makes it to you without another hitch and gingerly reaches over to replace the airplane with a paper rose.

you blink. stare some more. then finally look up. “dazai, what the fuck?” 

“oh c’mon, bella. you’ve been in a mood all day. i thought a rose would cheer you up enough to tell me what’s got you in such a sulky mood.” dazai pouts at you and it takes everything in you to look away for your sanity.

you can feel your cheeks heating up by just the small interaction. if these dreams persist, you’re not sure you can keep your composure. you were barely hanging on by a thread as it was. you distantly think maybe it’s your subconscious telling you that you need to get laid. you almost scoff at the thought.

yes. it has been some time since you last slept with someone, but there is no way that was causing the dreams. if that was the case you would be having dreams about more than just dazai. he was simply plaguing your mind and you think you might go insane if this kept going on. 

so instead of dealing with it like a sane person, because you aren’t right now, you decide to take it out on the very man that has been haunting your mind. “i’m trying to get my work done and i’m certainly not in the mood. go bother atsushi if you’re bored, dazai.”

you hear a small complaint come from across the desk and look up to see atsushi giving you an accusatory expression. you immediately feel guilty for throwing him under the bus and finally relax for the first time all day. you toss the weretiger an apologetic smile then whip around to glare at dazai for a moment.

”i changed my mind. you’re buying me lunch at the cafe. let’s go.” you don’t give dazai any time to answer. you save your work, shut your laptop and promptly stand up and walk off. you weren’t going to give dazai any room to argue. you figured if he didn’t follow then he wasn’t that curious and you got to enjoy a break in silence.

unfortunately you hear dance-like footsteps coming from behind you, indicating that dazai was, in fact, following. you both step into the elevator and about halfway down dazai finally opens his mouth.

”so, what’s got a beautiful woman such as yourself in such a mood today?” his smile is lazy and eyes dull.

you hate this. you hate when he acts like this. you do genuinely like dazai, just not this version of him. the shut off version, the one that puts on a facade and plays with people for fun. you don’t have much time to think about it though. the elevator jolts to a sudden stop and dings, indicating that you’ve made it to the ground floor. you scurry out of the small space and make your way to the cafe. 

when you enter your mood instantly sours seeing that it wasn’t lucy in today, but rather the waitress dazai is always making eyes at and wistfully requesting her to perform a double suicide with him. you muster up a smile to offer the owner and wave at him before taking your seat at one of the booths. dazai plops himself on the other side across from you.

the waitress comes over and you brace yourself for the encounter that’s about to transpire. dazai watches you closely, head tilting to the side curiously. 

“welcome, detectives, what can i get you started with today?” her smile is sweet and you feel bad for your previous annoyance. it’s not her fault dazai doesn’t understand the art of subtlety. 

dazai speaks up before you can get a chance to. “go on, bella, you order whatever you want.” dazai addresses his attention to the waitress next. “everything will be going on my tab, miss waitress.”

”how very generous of you, mr. dazai. i assume you finally invested in that life insurance policy i recommended?” her smile is sweet but her words are clipped and condescending. you let out a little snort as dazai starts to sweat a little. 

before dazai can quip back, you order. “i’ll take an iced latte and the sandwich of the day, please.”

“of course miss. what about you, mr. dazai?”

dazai almost shrinks at her faux warm demeanor. “i’ll just take a cup of coffee.” 

you raise your brow at him disapprovingly and before the waitress can scurry off you quickly get out, “can you make sure my sandwich is cut in half?”

she smiles at you genuinely and nods her head. after she walks off you catch dazai staring at you once again. you know he’s about to speak again and you dread whatever it is that’s going to fall from those surprisingly full lips of his. 

“so, are you going to tell me what’s gotten your panties in a twist all day?”

nice.

how eloquent of him. 

you scowl at him and hiss out, “could you not refer to it as that?”

”sorry, bella. would you rather i ask why you’ve been so sour all day in a different way?” dazai grins at you clearly pleased at getting a rise out of you. 

you huff and roll your eyes. “would you believe me if i told you it’s because i had a dream of you?”

”oh? did you now? what was the dream about? you must regale me with all of the details.” dazai sets his elbows on the table in between the two of you. his fingers intertwine and he rests his head atop his hands. 

it’s almost eerie, the way he’s looking at you but you can’t quite place why. you wince internally realizing your mistake. how the hell are you supposed to tell dazai that you fantasized about— no. you didn’t fantasize, it was a dream. a creation of your subconscious. not of your control. you want to shrivel up and die. 

how the hell are you supposed to explain that to dazai?

you don’t. it’s the only sane reasoning you can come up with. but now you have to scramble to come up with something to dazai. the longer you just blankly stare at him the more suspicious he’s going to get. you can see it in the way his eyes become hooded and his right brow shifts up.

dazai perks up a bit and, oh god, here it comes. the realization you’ve been dreading. “don’t tell me you dreamt about me in that way.” he hums dramatically. “what a naughty girl, thinking about your colleague in such a way~”

you involuntary freeze. sure you knew this was coming but there is no way he saw through you that easily. he came to that conclusion so fast and you know for a fact you aren’t an easy person to read unless you want someone to. he couldn’t have just picked up on your thoughts like that. no, you have to remind yourself this is dazai osamu. he could have done exactly that. regardless, you refuse to admit it to yourself, let alone dazai.

“absolutely n-“ you’re cut off by the waitress dropping off your drinks and the sandwich. 

clearly she understood what you meant by your earlier request because she brings you an extra plate. you thank her one more time before she walks off. placing the slightly bigger half of the sandwich on the extra plate and scooting it towards dazai.

“eat.” he looks at you curiously but obliges when you give him an expectant glare.

you know he won’t drop the previous subject but luckily for you he’s too busy with eating to make much conversation. you both enjoy your respective halves of the delicious sandwich in silence. it was peaceful, a stark contrast to what usually transpired when you’re with dazai. you observe him quietly, subtly, as you chew on the last bite of your food.

he’s picking at the bread after only two bites. his coffee was finished within the first few minutes of it being set in front of him. a clear avoidance. keeping himself busy with sipping on his coffee so he wouldn’t have to eat. the few bites were to appease you. unfortunately for him you know all of those tricks, maybe a little too well.

you cross your arms over your chest and think about this tactically, you know if you scold him outright he’ll brush it off easily. you have to think like him for a moment. what would he do if your positions were switched.

playing dumb. “you know, it’s not very polite to let a lady eat more than you…” 

you pout and look away from him, trying to seem embarrassed. you’re not sure if it’s worked. you’re honestly too nervous to look. you think it must look real because you’re now actually embarrassed by the probably god awful acting you just displayed.

but then you hear distinct chewing and peak over to something that pleasantly surprises you. he’s taken another two bites, significantly larger than the last two, because he’s almost finished with the sandwich by the time you fully turn to look at him. 

for the first time all day you finally crack a smile at him and let out a fit of giggles. dazai almost chokes on the sandwich from the sound alone. it’s a sound he’ll never get used to nor will he ever get tired of it. you’re too busy trying to calm your giggles to notice dazai’s internal struggle as he finishes off his own food all the while staring at you in amazement.

you take a few calming breaths and look at him, still all smiles. dazai resists the urge to clutch his chest, something in it stirs — an extremely alarming and foreign sensation for him. dazais nerves are suddenly on fire. he suddenly recalls what you said earlier, how you dreamt about him. he knows you planned on denying his earlier implications but the way you paused makes him think you were having those types of dreams about him. 

dazai’s fingers twitch at his sides. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think of you like that. hell, he’d probably have the same types of dreams if he actually dreamt. dazai’s breathing shallows and he need to get away from you. his self control thinning with each passing second he thinks about you in the most intimate of ways. 

he knows it’s wrong. at least in your case you can’t control it. but here his is, shamelessly fantasizing about you like you aren’t sat right in front of him. dazai disgusts himself. he wants to bash his head in, his thoughts swimming, making it hard for him to focus. vision blurring and ears rushing like there’s water stuck in them.

dazai abruptly stands up and announces, “we should get back to work. kunikida will get on us if we take any longer.”

you’re so perplexed because when has dazai ever cared about what kunikida thinks about? then you notice it, the unmistakable bulge straining against the crotch of his pants. you swear you didn’t mean to look, it was just currently at eye level. you’re suddenly given an opportunity, something you need to make a decision on and quickly. 

as calmly as you can, you slide out of the booth and wave to the owner and waitress before grasping onto dazai’s hand and dragging the brunette away with you. dazai is far too dazed to protest at how assertive you’re being. you lead the way to the elevator and the ride there is painstakingly quiet and slow. the second the contraption dings and the doors begin to open you’re slipping through with dazai still in tow.

the lanky man is thoroughly confused when, instead of going back to the office, you shove the two of you in the supply closet. he wants to ask but something tells him he doesn’t need to. your body language gives way that you’re going to explain yourself.

thank god there’s a lock on the inside of this room. you really did not want to relocate to the bathroom for this. dazai is still dazed, unsure of what’s happening, just letting you toss him around like a rag doll. everything is still on fire making him feel detached from his body. the sensation is almost numbing.

“you know what’s so frustrating?” your breathing is just as shallow as his is now. the ride on the elevator working you up far more than it should have. 

although he’s detached, your voice anchors him. he looks down at your flushed face and he almost whimpers at the sight. he croaks out, “what is?”

“you. you’re so frustrating. your stupid act, your stupid need to play dumb, your stupid big brown eyes, your stupidly long fingers, your stupidly handsome face and your stupidly careless actions. y’know, you’ve had a hard on since you stood up at the cafe. practically shoved it in my face.” you have him trapped, his back is hitting the end of some shelves.

you don’t touch him yet. you look up at him and gauge his reaction. he seems to be battling with what he should say and you could laugh in triumph. you’ve never seen someone render the dazai osamu speechless, but you just did it with a few suggestive sentences. 

dazai takes a shuddered breath collecting his wits before grinning down at you after fully processing your words. “my apologies, bella. that wasn’t my intention, but what is yours? this is quite the damning position you have me in.”

your confidence falters but you quickly recover and click your tongue. “it would be rude of me to not help you calm down… especially if i was the cause.” 

you look away, embarrassed by your own proposition. dazai takes a moment. he knows what you’re implying, he’s sure of it, but he’s having a hard time wrapping his head around it. after what feels like an eternity— it’s not, you’re just being dramatic— it finally clicks in dazai’s head. you’re being serious, if the look on your face is any indication. 

the detective hums and reaches out. his hand cups your face and glides up into your hair, fingers tangling with the strands and tugging just a little too harshly to be considered gentle. he was needy, you could see it in the endless sea of honey that are his irises. something was stirring. 

“how am i supposed to say no to that? i’m a weak man, unable to deny a beautiful woman when she makes such an enticing offer.”

you don’t have time to bite back with a witty comment because his lips are quite literally crashing into yours. the second his chapped lips make contact with your own every single touch and action from him comes from a place of desperation. although skilled, his actions are sloppy and almost rushed. his free hand grips your waist and draws you even closer. 

your hands land on his chest to brace and balance yourself. you try to catch your breath but dazai is proving that difficult with how his tongue dances along your own. his actions steal your breath away from you and make your lungs burn, screaming for relief and air. 

the lack of air and the sensation of dazai’s tongue tangling with your own dizzies your head. you can’t get a proper thought out. instinctively your mouth is moving with his, tongue smoothing over his, and hands fisting at the cloth on his chest but you couldn’t move out of your own volition. 

dazai pulls your head back by once again tugging at your hair. you let out an involuntary whimper, making sure to stay quiet as you gasp for air. dazai dips his head down and speaks in between littering kisses on your neck.

“i thought you were going to help me calm down, bella. so far i’m doing all the work and now i’m far more worked up than i was in the cafe.” 

his words bring you crashing down to reality and you scowl. of course he would still tease you. he loves getting a rise out of you. 

you don’t entertain him, though. instead your hand travels down his torso and starts tugging at his shirt. you pout at him mockingly. “i didn’t realize some mild kissing would work you up so much. ‘didn’t realize you were so sensitive -- so needy.” 

dazai wants to quip back at you but as you’re talking you’re undoing his pants and your last word is emphasized by you shoving your hand down his pants. your hand almost falters when you realize he’s not wearing anything underneath. instead, though, you take your index finger and teasingly run it along his length. it feels endless, he’s long, you realize. you briefly wonder just how far, how deep, he could reach inside of you. 

dazai shudders at the feather like touches to where he needs attention the most right now. you lean up and with your free hand you tug on dazais collar to bring him down to your level. your breath fans over his ear and, god, he shudders again. 

you hum. “‘s this where you need attention right now?”

“yes.” dazai breathes out the word. clearly affected by the way your finger is twirling around the leaking tip of his cock.

you maintain eye contact with dazai as you sink to your knees. the implication alone has dazai’s nerves coiling tighter. he brings his hand up to cover his face, head falling back as he groans. his breathing becomes more erratic as you withdrawal your hand, he barely contain a whimper from falling past his lips at the loss of contact. but you make quick work of shocking his pants halfway down his thighs and finally freeing his strained length.

your mouth begins to salivate involuntarily. his cock is surprisingly pretty and just as you suspected — his length is impressive, definitely above average. the leaking tip is flushed pink and his veins are visibly throbbing. you want nothing more than to choke on it but first, you think you need to tease him some more.

you rest your cheek on his trembling thigh and stare up at him innocently. “osamu.” he could cum, right then and there with the way you say his given name.

dazai looks down at you. the sight in front of him bringing him embarrassingly closer to release. all dazai can muster is a hum of acknowledgment and even that sounds a little pained.

you smile at his obvious desperation. “if i help you out here you need to follow a couple rules. be quiet and no touching. think you can do that for me?”

dazai tries so hard to pay attention to your words but barely registers them. did you say no touching? no touching what? and him being quiet? a bold request of him.

you seem pleased with how quick he is to nod at you in obedience. you waste no time, ready to indulge both of your fantasies. you lick a long stripe along the vein on the underside of his cock. dazai is twitching at the one action alone. how embarrassing of him — you both have the same thought. 

the brunette’s fingers itch to touch you but his mind is coherent enough to remember your stipulations. no touching. how cruel of you. to resist that temptation when you’re making him feel this good is just downright wicked.

you don’t miss the way his fists clench in a desperate attempt to keep his word. how could you not reward him for that? listening to you like such a good and obedient puppy. your tongue darts out to swirl around his flushed tip. the taste of his precum floods your tastebuds and you’re instantly hooked like an addict to their drug of choice. dazai’s taste was your new vice. 

your lips wrap around his head and you hollow your cheeks. dazai is panting. his head spinning from the pleasure at just the slightest of touches from you. his head hangs back and he brings his fist to his mouth and bites down. he wants to groan, wants to whimper, wants to moan your name. but you’ve denied him that privilege and he has a feeling that you would be merciless if he gave in and disregarded your requests. 

you take more of him with each bob of your head and with each stroke of your tongue you unravel the tight coil that had formed in dazai’s stomach. he was already so close. what a sight it would be to watch you choke over him as he spills everything he has directly down your throat. the thought almost undoes him. he bites down on his fist harder and he thinks he may have broken skin.

you observe dazai and it’s all so hot. his pants, his facial expressions, the way sweat is starting to form on his face and cause his hair to stick to it. you can feel yourself getting worked and you’re impatient. thank god the weather permitted you to wear a pencil skirt instead of the usual slack you usually wear. you use your free hand to bunch up your skirt at your waist. the actions makes your movements on dazai’s cock a little sloppy. he hadn’t noticed yet but his brows furrow as if he’s starting to. you try to fix your pace but it’s too late. he is already picking up his head and peering down at you. 

you were trying to touch yourself. if his head wasn’t already spinning this is what would be what sent him into a spiral. you had the audacity to call him needy but then in turn do something like this. it was unfair. 

Dazai can’t help himself. “bella, are you trying to touch yourself?” it comes out as a teasing whisper. you don’t miss the amusement in his voice. 

you suppose you asked him to stay quiet, not to stay silent.

still, your brows furrow and you ever so slightly graze your teeth against his cock. the sensation is something dazai sickeningly loves. his eyes are rolling back into his head and he let’s out a short moan. it’s quiet and you’re quite annoyed that he’s found a loophole. 

you can’t deny that his noises aren’t doing something for you, though. you’re even more desperate than before to slip out of your panties. you maneuver around and manage to shimmy them off. it’s almost embarrassing how wet the crotch of them are. you try to care but you just can bring yourself to do so when dazai’s hips begin to thrust and force the small bit of his length you’ve been unable to touch down your throat. 

you gag around him and dazai’s grasping at the shelves behind him for leverage. you spread your legs the best you can, being on your knees like this and sneak your hand up your thigh. you can feel the heat radiating off of you. you run a finger through your slick and moan around dazai when the digit brushes your clit.

“fuck, fuck, fuck ‘s so good, bella. your mouth ‘s so perfect for me.” his voice is hushed and breathy.

you’re not even listening to his babble as your nose continues to brush against his pelvis every time your sucking him back into your mouth. gagging, choking, on his cock. your eyes are watery, tears spilling from that and the sensation coming from below your pelvis. your finger makes expert work of your clit.

it’s too much.

you can’t breath right, dazai can’t think right, you gag with every thrust, dazai can’t control his stuttering hips, your one hand is playing with yourself and the other reaches up to cup dazai’s balls. 

it’s not only too much for you, it’s too much for dazai. the added sensation makes nerve, every cell, every fiber that makes up dazai ignite. he was about to cum, he needed to warn you. he needed to open his mouth and say something but it just flapped, no noise was coming out.

you bob your head back and peer up at dazai, his erratic breathing becoming suspiciously loud. the look on his face is absolutely breathtaking — it’s flushed, almost beet red, tears of his own trickle down his cheeks in droplets. he looked like a fallen angel, beautiful and dangerous all at the same time. 

you moan at the sight. fingers traveling down to your entrance and slowly pushing through. you suck in a breath and fold your lips over your teeth to keep yourself from grazing his length with them. the initial stretch feels divine but your fingers themselves aren’t enough. you need dazai’s twitching cock inside your cunt.

you note that dazais cock is throbbing painfully and starts to twitch quite a lot.

oh, you realize, he’s going to cum. 

you smirk deviously. you push your mouth down on dazai until his tip is hitting the back of your throat. with your eyes still on him you hollow your cheeks and swallow. dazai almost yelps at the added stimulation. his head snaps up and finally his attention is on you.

“shit.” he hisses, this time a little louder, so you glare up at him. “sorry- sorry but- fuck- gonna cum, please, ‘m so close.”

the second those words leave his mouth you’re backing up and removing your fingers from yourself. dazai let’s out a mangled noise, something between a sob and laugh. it was almost unnerving but the blissed out look on dazai’s face tells you he’s enjoying this game far more than the average person.

you watch his chest heave, his breathing heavy. his face is as red as a blooming rose. you think it’s a sort of beautiful sight to see. dazai never gets flustered, so seeing him like this, you can’t help but to feel special. 

you stand up as you pout at him, mock empathy written all over your face. “sorry, did you wanna cum? don’t think i can have that quite yet. not when you haven’t even fucked me. right, osamu?”

there it is again, the sound of his given name falling from your lips. something in dazai snaps. the thread of his sanity that you’d been stretching thin ever since the cafe finally tore in two. his eyes darken dangerously and you only have a moment to realize the shift before he’s picking you up by your thighs and wrapping them around his thin waist. you can feel his stiff cock lightly bouncing against your ass as he flips you around and pins you against the shelves.

his head dips down and he lips scant across the skin of your neck. he’s careful to only leave feather light touches. scraping the rough skin of his mouth on one of your most sensitive areas sends a shock of electricity through your body. you so badly want to tug at his hair but you’re coherent enough to realize your fingers are still coated in your own slick. 

you smile slyly at the detective as he peers at you through his ridiculously long lashes. you grab his chin delicately and bring your soiled fingers to his lips. his eyes light up in immediate realization. he wordlessly opens his mouth, tongue lolling out a bit as he happily waits for his treat like a puppy, you can practically see his tail wagging. you let out a breathless laugh, because you think you may be screwed. dazai osamu has you wrapped around his pretty and lithe fingers and you think he already knew that. 

you think about making him beg for it but you’re so momentarily mesmerized by the brunette that you find yourself leaning in and gently interesting the digits into his mouth. dazai is quick to appreciate your offering. his lips encase your fingers and his tongue makes quick work of lapping up and savoring your taste.

dazai’s hip involuntarily rut into yours and you can’t help yourself. all the pent up frustration you’ve felt since the dreams started finally gets to your head. you’re desperate to feel him inside of you. a sensation you were always denied of, waking up before actually getting fucked by the very man holding you each time. you reach down to guide his cock then expertly shift your hips and he becomes perfectly aligned with your entrance. dazai is sucking on your fingers but his actions become sloppy as he watches what you’re doing with intense concentration.

you waste no time sinking yourself down on his length, he’s already well coated in your slick and eases into you. you bite on your lip to avoid making any obscene noises but dazai snaps you into reality when he carelessly moans loudly. you panic and shove your fingers further into his mouth. he hums appreciatively and if his hips rocking into yours didn’t feel so good you’d hop off his cock right then and there and leave him blue balled. you could bring yourself to do that though, not when you’ve been waiting for this for so long.

you settle for hissing out, “shut the fuck up, dazai.” 

dazai gives you a shit eating grin as he snakes an arm under your ass and squeezes before slowly shifting his hips away from yours, leaving you virtually empty, before sliding himself back into you at the same painstakingly slow pace. he repeats the slowed movements a few times before you’re slipping your fingers out of his mouth and bracing yourself on his shoulders. you try to move your hips on your own but dazai is quick to catch you.

“ah, ah, bella. can’t have you doing whatever you want right now. unless you want me to get louder, you’ll let me set the pace.” his voice is slightly strained and hushed, but despite his seriousness, you can hear the tiniest bit of teasing mixed in.

you let out a whine but resign to him setting the pace. in the meantime your fingers find their way to his hair and tug. dazais hips stutter, showing you that he is far too needy to take full control. taking full advantage of just how distracted he is, you grind your hips into the detective’s with each thrust and dip your head to leave sloppy wet kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

“shit, you’ve been so wound tight all the time lately that even your perfect cunt has a vice grip on me. it’s so perfect, feels so good.” you can tell how hard dazai is trying to be quiet and you note that you should reward him for that later.

it doesn’t take long for his pace to increase, his rapid movements making the shelves behind you rock and creak. dazai still seems displeased with the pace, his brows knitting together in concentration. you catch his eyes flitting to your neck and lingering there. 

you’ve always worn your tie loose, the first couple buttons if your dress shirt undone. it drives dazai mad. your neck and cleavage are always on display in the most tasteful way. he wants nothing more than to run his hand over your velvety soft skin and wrap his nimble fingers around your neck. now that he has the chance to do so, he can’t pass up the opportunity.

your grip in his hair tightens as he shifts you, keeping you up with one arm as he keeps his pace. you have no room to question him when the new positioning has his cock nudging your sweet spot so deliciously. your head becomes dizzy and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. 

dazai’s hand travels up your body, palm flush with your skin so he can feel every bump and curve. he starts at your upper abdomen and slithers it up. he completely ignores your breasts which you vaguely think was his goal. you have no time to act surprise over it bc his hand is gently wrapping around your neck. he wants to squeeze, fingers twitching, but he resigns to a light grip to simply test the waters. 

your response is something he wasn’t expecting. your eyes roll back and you let out a hushed whimper. that’s when he realizes, he wants to do this forever. he wants to fuck you senseless so he can see that beautiful expression on your face forever. so he can feel you tightly wrapped around him forever. dazai wants you forever. the fleeting thought scares him just a little but he has no time to dwell on it because the coil in his stomach is unraveling once again.

“dazai-“ your interrupted by him bringing you in for a sloppy kiss. you think the noises from the kiss alone are far more obscene than the noises from him bullying his cock into you, which is a hard feat considering those are, by no means, quiet or pure. 

when the brunette detaches himself he breathes out. “osamu- shit- ‘s osamu…”

“osamu. ‘m gonna cum. so close- please.” you let out a quiet sob as you babble.

dazai has no time to respond. it’s embarrassing, the way he can’t even give you any other warning but him shoving his face in your shoulder, grip tightening around your throat ever so slightly. the whimper he lets out tells you everything you need to know before he starts spilling his cum inside of you.

the throbbing of his cock and sensation of him filling you up has your walls contracting and you’re diving off the deep end yourself. you bite your lip hard. desperate trying to keep yourself from making more noise than the whines sticking in your throat. your vision blurs and and hearing goes muffled as your senses become overwhelmed by your high.

dazai is still rutting his hips into you, guiding you through your orgasm despite his twitches and obvious overstimulation. when you come back to your senses, dazai is whimpering a lot louder than previously. his grip on your neck is lost as he leaves soothing strokes on your side. you tug at his hair to lift his head so you can look at him.

his face is somehow even more flushed than earlier, you’re almost concerned. the look in his eyes though makes something stir inside of you. his glazed over and hooded eyes, completely unfocused. his lips parted as he’s letting out short and shuddered puffs of air. dazai has lost all senses but the feeling of him inside of you. 

“osamu. hey- look at me. you need to calm-“ you his when his rutting becomes more intense, thrusts becoming less shallow but hips and cock still twitching wildly, you have to stop him otherwise you’ll both lose yourselves in this supply closet and you can’t afford to do that when everyone is still in the office next door. “osamu we need to get back.”

dazai seems to have regained some of his consciousness. “again.”

you let out a breathless laugh, eyes glimmering in genuine amusement and adoration. “not right now. later. we need to get back. i have a case i need to finish working on.”

dazai finally fully comes back to you and he lightens up at the promise of later. that means this isn’t just a one time thing. something in that back of his head always told him if he crossed that line with you, things wouldn’t be the same, he’d only have one shot. but your words are such a relief he could cry. he can’t help himself, he has to clarify.

“later? after work and… again anytime after that?” his eyes are pleading and hopeful and you can’t help but melt under his soft gaze.

you nod and open your mouth to affirm his statement but you're rudely interrupted by a loud rapping at the closet door. “you two better have not done any of that by my emergency snack stash and you better clean up after yourselves. hurry up, i can't keep stalling and kunikida needs staples.”

ranpo’s voice rings throughout the room. you groan in embarrassment and bury yourself into his chest. dazai lets out a gleeful laugh still dizzyingly drunk on the idea of your promise.

[multireese]

Exposed On Stream

streamer stepbrother x male reader

"MMM, please finish before our parents come home." y/n whined. His stepbrother sat in his gaming chair holding him by the waist and guiding the moaning boy up and down his shaft. Y/N's stepbrother was also twenty years old, They went to the local university but never crossed paths. That was until a few weeks ago when Y/N's dad married his new stepbrother's mother.

"What's that little bro? You want me to fill your ass with cum?"

"Mmhmm don't be gross. Please...finish...fast," Y/n's hole stretched around his stepbrother's girth. Both men's moans filled the room accompanied by the soft sucking sounds of stepbrother fucking into y/n's tight wet hole. Stepbrother spent the last few weeks training y/n's hole, starting with a finger. then two. Eventually, Y/n could take his stepbrother's girthy tip finally graduating to cockwarming his veiny 9-inch dick.

Stepbrother grabbed Y/n behind the knees and pushed them into the smaller man's chest.

"I know what my boy needs," Stepbrother holds y/n's body up and begins to aggressively fuck up into him. The moans and squelching noises crescendo. In a few moments, Y/n had spurts of cum shooting from his dick. "Oh, that's so fucking hot! I bet stream loved that," his stepbrother pressed a button on his keyboard. The monitors flashed on. Brightening the room and the stars y/n was currently seeing. In a moment Stepbrother continued to fuck y/n for his subscribers to see.

"i ship this"

"how can THAT fit???"

"ruin him"

"did he say brother?"

"who's the bottom"

The comments rolled in fast. Stepbrother planned to force the two of their parents to break up because of the embarrassment that would come from this scandal. He knew his Mother did not love Y/n's dad the way stepbrother loved y/n. "Y/n will understand when we don't have to sneak around," he thought. Y/n still moaning and riding his sneaky stepbrother's throbbing cock.

"Let's hit our goal Gang, and I'll creampie my sexy stepbrother." Hundreds of dollars worth of tips flooded in, subscriber count doubled in minutes. Y/n and his stepbrother might have made themselves famous.

[6feathered6siren6]

Can you write something where reader suddenly starts sending random letters into the server and everyone thinks that they’ve crashed out or smth but in reality reader has a very hyper toddler and when they send a photo to the server everyone just gets cuteness aggression and that “I’ll kill for you” feeling? Especially Ronin which I feel like would be funny. Anyways! I love your writing!!!

Toddlers adventures

Authors note: To the single parents that do read my stuff, you're doing great! And I'm proud how far you've come. Loved writing the toddler in this, I made sure both Reader and little guy was gender neutral. And thank you for enjoying my writing!!! Anyway, Enjoy!! o7

Trigger warnings:

None :P

---

U/N: Asoibnv ‘jasgt

U/N: rawtygfkjh war

LUCA_IS_SO_COOL: Dude? You good?

hitmeuppp: did you have a stroke??

U/N: asdhUIOWQgsdakh kajdhs hyoiu rawe

Angelic: Uhm…

Angelic: Does anyone know if U/N is fine?

U/N: :D

hitmeuppp: so is U/N fine now?

U/N: bah dkjhadh

hitmeuppp: nvm…

K9: I think they are fine, might just be something else.

Click.

A moment later. Your microphone was on, and white noise passes through the speakers on your computer lightly. 

Misaki joins, “Yo, Reader, you fine? Your messages aren’t messaging.” 

Angel and Ronin join. 

“Reader, are you okay? You are worrying me with your messages.” Angel said, her voice was filled with concern.

“That’s what I said!” Misaki chimed. 

Feli and Luca join. 

“Well, Darling. We are waiting.”

V and Vince join.

“Is our enigma-” Vince spoke only to be interrupted by your mic.

“Hello many people!” A young voice was heard. Way younger than who should be on the server of you know who or what. They softly giggled as everyone was silent.

“A child?” V spoke. 

“Hello, kiddo. Where are your parents?” Vince spoke, like a father worried about a kid, who wasn’t his. 

“Baba cleaning. Said I can play!” They said, their hands patting at the desk, soft chimes of the keyboard being slapped as well. 

A soft ‘Baba?’ came through the speakers, the toddler that sat in your chair, continued to laugh. 

“Aw, how cute.” A soft, alluring voice chimes through, Angel was in awe of the small child that took over your computer. 

“Did anyone know that Darling had a spawn?” Ronin spoke, his voice was softer, like he was trying not to scare the child.

The collective ‘No’s’ was loud in the voice channel. They hear a door open, and your voice fills into the VC.

“There you are. Though you were in your room, little one.” Your voice was softer than anyone heard. 

“Nope! Talking to people!” The toddler spoke. 

It was silent for a moment before they heard you make a short yell. “I- oh, fu-” You drift the word off, not to swear in front of the child. “Fudge.. Kid… I..”

“Well, I think this is the first time our beloved darling was lost for words.” Ronin's voice echos the room. Of course you weren’t muted, and of course your child somehow got on the server, and also went to VC. But knowing how smart and chaotic your child was, you can believe it. You can hear a few snickers. Laughing at your pain. 

You pick up your kid from your chair and place them onto the floor. “Go run, your show is on.” 

Your kid runs away, yelling, “Yay! Color killers!” 

You sigh, like this was normal. “It’s power rangers, not color killers.” You heard some laughter, and you groaned as you sat into your chair. “I swear that kid will be the death of me..” 

“So you have a child of your own,” Vince spoke. 

“Yeah, my troublemaker. Running me tired lately.” You smile, hearing the theme song play from the living room.

“I didn’t know you had a kid, Reader!” Misaki yelled. “Wait, do you have a partner?” 

Even though there was no camera, it was second nature to just scratch your head at your nervous response. “Kinda.. Not in the picture, so it’s been just me.” 

“Ah, must be tired, killing, then writing your novel, your job, then also your kid. I don’t know how you can do that, Reader.” Feli softly said, sighing just thinking about it.

“I’m already struggling with my schedule, I’m also impressed!” Angel spoke, she sounded proud.

–

After a few minutes, after everyone calmed down from the ‘weird’ text, there were only a few people left. Vince, Ronin, and Angel.

“Hey, darling before you leave, gotta ask.” Ronin spoke.

You were about to leave, but paused. “What’s up, Ronin?” 

Angel softly giggled, “You have support here, don’t be afraid to ask. You have a lot on your plate, and we are here to help.”

“Yes,” Vince continued. “I have two proud kids of my own, and I understand being tired and all that. If you live nearby me and my family, we can babysit your little one so you can rest. Being a single parent is hard sometimes.”

You feel your lips turn into a soft smile. “Thank you.” 

“Hey, I live nearby, I don’t mind dropping by and annoying your little spawn.” Ronin spoke.

Angel chuckled, “Ronin, you’re gonna teach this little guy how to kill, right?”

“Who do you take me for?” Ronin fake mock. “But nah, not gonna. How young is your kid?”

“2-ish,” You said, you felt warm. You never suspected this from the server, but it was welcomed in your eyes. 

“Ah, so they’re young,” Vince spoke. “You're doing well from what we can hear.” 

You hear a small ‘Baba!’ from your living room, it was your cue to go take care of them. “I must leave, my kid is calling me, I’ll talk to you all later.” You pause, your curse over the hang up button. “Thank you.” 

Then you hang up. You fully turn off your computer, you don’t need your troublemaker to be on it again. And you before you closed the door, you took one last glance at your computer. Who knew they offered you support..

[lets-try-some-writing]

So in light of recent bots getting freaked out by human bodies (hilarious btw thank you for those 😂), one idea popped into my head. So I have a "Dad sneeze" (as a 17 year old female this amuses my dad to no end) that sounds like I'm getting stabbed. Miko has this as well and will lie in wait for the perfect opportunity to get the bots to jump. The bots will never know peace ever again

That's hilarious as a concept. YOINKING it thank you.

Sneezing is a thing for Cybertronians, in a sense at any rate. They are capable of blowing air out of their vents harshly to clear debris and reset their systems. They are used to their own kind making such sounds. But the squishies? Nah that's TERRIFYING.

Miko figured out the bots get scared of humans sneezing when Rafael had several sneezes in short succession. She watched as Bulkhead tripped and fell in his panic. Arcee skidded a bit on her wheels. Bumblebee's door wings perked right up and his optics cycled wide in terror. Ratchet cursed and dropped his tools. Optimus keyboard smashed hard. Wheeljack and Ultra Magnus were in the middle of an argument at the time and immediately slipped up and halted, their respective horns blaring.

Miko learned, and through this, she thought it would be even more hilarious if the sneeze performed was even louder. Thus her scheme was formed. Her sneezes are loud and aggressive, the team do not know this. As such, it wasn't hard to wait until the team were doing a weekly debrief, and upon feeling a sneeze coming up, allow it to run its course.

Sounding like a gunshot, Miko's sneeze sent the entire team into various states of alarm. Optimus puffed up like a cat, his plating flaring and his finials snapping up. Ratchet jolted so harshly that he looked ready to duck and cover. Bulkhead and Wheeljack both dove for cover, uncaring of grace. Ultra Magnus threw whatever he was holding in Miko's direction, which she barely missed being squished by. Bumblebee and Smokescreen made various noises, Smokescreen squealing and Bee dipping into frantic whirls. Arcee froze up like a deer in the headlights.

Despite the danger, it was a win in Miko's book even if it resulted in a dent in the wall from Ultra Magnus's gut reaction.

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Deviation

Fandom: Sonic (MOVIE)

Pairing: Stobotnik; Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone

Warnings: Not beta-read

Summary: Stone and Robotnik worked with each other for a long time. First out of spite, all because Commander Walters felt like Robotnik needed a handler. Later on, however, they could almost see themselves as colleagues, work partners that complained constantly about their superior and picking up dirt from their co-workers.

As of late, Stone realized there was a change in the doctor’s attitude towards him. And something was also wrong with the badniks.

OR

Badniks expose their daddy’s love for Stone.

Fic for @thisbellrings on Tumblr!

****

Robotnik’s machines has always been viewed and regarded as a marvel to Stone. Something that should be taken seriously, to be praised and to be documented in whole.

Not the government nor G.U.N thought about his machines that way. Robotnik’s machines were like toys to them. A new project to test run and another thing to destroy just for mere entertainment.

The projects weren’t deemed important to Stone. Hell, he didn’t even care enough about it to actually complete the whole blueprint. Robotnik definitely didn’t care enough to put more effort into it.

The only machines that he ever really cared about and cared to improve constantly were his babies. His own creations with no inference. His badniks.

Stone admired that about the man as much as he admired every other part of him. About the way he treated them with care like a worried father. The constant baby talks that the agent would sometimes stumble upon were no less endearing to hear. The talks don’t just limit inside the lab. Robotnik did it in front of several others before where Stone was present to hear it all. They mocked him for loving a machine more than loving in actual person, which resulted a series of insult and a broken nose.

To think that each badniks had their own unique implemented AIs to run their systems. Stone always thought that Robotnik was always the one controlling them. No one in their right minds would think a robot liked to follow them around, watch them make coffee and bump against their arm whenever a praised was directed at the drone.

Stone thought the constant head bumping was because the doctor wanted Stone to stop, because it was annoying to hear his assistant praise a non-sentient being. Even though the doctor constantly does it himself, Stone never thought to confront the doctor about the badniks’ strange behavior from time to time. After all, if it wasn’t happening frequently or was affecting his work in any way, then Stone was perfectly content with having them follow him around like they do with Robotnik.

One day was particularly strange, however. Thinking back on it, Stone assumed the badniks malfunctioned, but it didn’t seem likely since they always got their maintenance routine performed by the doctor. Stone got a hand in it, sure, but it was just mainly passing Robotnik the necessary tools to fix them.

It had been late afternoon that day, Robotnik hunched over at the main console while his fingers flew across the holographic keyboard, glowing a bright cyan under his hands. Stone had insisted that Robotnik use an actual keyboard but was aggressively refused because of the annoying tapping noise each key made that would repeatedly throw Robotnik’s train of thoughts of the rails.

Stone had been in the break room at that time, brewing the espresso into the cup he had gifted the doctor a while back while also waiting for the milk to steam. A badnik had been present at that time, one of the smaller models at least. It stayed hovering over his shoulder, watching his every movement, replying with a small beep to everything Stone said or questioned.

Stone couldn’t help but thought how the smaller models of the badniks looked like an egg, white and oval shaped just like the real thing. Sometimes, when he saw a swarm of them, Stone couldn’t but giggle at the sight of little semi-sentient, robotic eggs flying around in the air. He never questioned Robotnik about their design, and he felt like he would be berated if he did.

After the latte was made, Stone questioned himself what to draw on it this time. Before, when he had just started working for the doctor, it had been simple patterns like the tulip pattern since it took less time to make, and hearts were too intimate. Later on, however, he drew the heart pattern in many different styles and sometimes Robotnik’s face with little hearts around it if he had time. Those ideas were getting old, though.

Stone wanted something new, something refreshing if not hard. It could be simple but had to be something different.

As his mind wandered, so did his eyes. They eventually landed on the little badnik still hovering near him. Their design was simple yet intricate. The appearance didn’t seem like much, but Stone had seen the workings of their system from the inside before.

He knew it was a long shot, but he lined up his aim and took the shot either way.

“Could you just position your something like this?” Stone asked the drone, using his hand as an example.

The badnik registered his hand movement with a simple beep, immediately spinning around to the position that Stone requested. The agent smiled softly at the way the badnik held completely still for him to draw it into the doctor’s latte.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” It was simple and slipped out almost naturally. Robotnik didn’t like it if anyone else called his machines that way, but he seemed to make an exception for Stone.

After the drawing was complete, Stone picked up the cup and proudly showed it to the waiting badnik. Although the lining of the latte art itself was a bit messy and admittedly kind of wonky, it still turned out great in Stone’s opinion. And he wasn’t alone on that. The badnik chirped and collided with Stone’s forehead gently, it was like giving fist bumps but with affectionate head butts instead. Stone chuckled, giving the badnik’s dome a gentle pat before making his way to the doctor, badnik in tow.

Stone entered the lab, making sure his steps were audible lest he scare the doctor out of his skin again. Immediately, Robotnik registered his footsteps, removing one hand off the keyboard and positioned beside him, letting Stone use his hand as if it was a cup holder.

The agent beamed at the simple gesture. Stone would usually just place it on the table, announcing to Robotnik about his prepared latte. After a while, Robotnik got impatient and tired of always reaching for the cup himself after it was placed down. So, the sight of Robotnik reaching out willingly to wait for the cup to place directly into his hand had become a common sight.

However, Stone was stopped dead in his tracks by the badnik from before. It hovered in front of him, almost refusing to move as it just close the distance between him and the drone.

Stone just stared at the badnik, confusion evident on his face. It didn’t do anything weird, to say, just gravitating towards him as if he was a badnik magnet. Two or three more came to join their sibling, fussing over Stone as if he was an intruder and they needed to scan him for any weapons. Stone tried pushing the badniks away, but it didn’t seem to work very effectively.

“Stone!” Robotnik yelled, eyes not leaving his monitor. Stone immediately perked up at the mention of his name, his hand paused from pushing a badnik away from him. “Latte. Yes-ter-day.” Robotnik said, emphasizing by removing the hand that was on his keyboard before to jab his index into the palm of his waiting hand.

Before Stone could move out the way of the badniks that were present in front of him to deliver the coffee to the doctor, more badniks were summoned for seemingly no reason. The badniks just figuratively stared at him, moving closer and closing in on the terribly confused agent. A few hovered near his legs, as if inspecting his physical fitness. Others examined his torso, scanning his face and ruffling his hair. Stone just stood still, now holding the latte in both hands to avoid it from spilling accidentally.

“Doctor?” Stone spoke up eventually, trying his best to push through the continuous waves of badniks coming towards him. Admittedly, he didn’t know if he should try. “I-uh, do have it, it’s only that- “

The excuse was cut short, an audible sound of his teeth smacking together was heard throughout the lab.

“Stone, of all the days to- “Robotnik yelled, both of his hands dropped to the arms of his chair as he turned around to face the sorry excuse of an agent he got.

Similar to Stone, Robotnik was also rudely interrupted. Well, maybe not, but he did stop mid berating to look at Stone’s current situation that somehow stopped him from bringing the doctor his latte.

The sight was... a little ridiculous at best.

Stood behind him was Stone, nervous and confused with at least fourteen badniks surrounding him, bumping and scanning him. In his hand was the latte he was supposed to bring to Robotnik, still steaming. Stone looked up from where he was staring at his feet before having a badnik nudge against his forehead, forcing him to look back down.

“I’ve been swarmed.” It was barely above a whisper, but somehow still loud enough for Robotnik to hear the nervousness in his voice. Robotnik just grabbed the back of his seat with both hands in disbelief

If Stone was still a new agent, this behavior from the badniks wouldn’t be surprising. But Stone wasn’t new, and he had already become a constant occurrence in the lab. There are signs that he had been here for a while, and all the badniks have registered him as one of their main handlers (because Robotnik was and always had been the first).

Both were silent for a while, save for the sound of machinery whirring as the badniks fussed over Stone for seemingly no reason. Stone stared back at the doctor, big brown eyes in clear distress, the cup that’s still in his hands started to warm the meat of his palms but not to the point that it hurt.

After a few more minutes of observation and staring into each other eyes, Robotnik sighed and turned away. Waving a hand behind him, Robotnik clenched and let go of his hand, all the badniks immediately obeying his order and flew off in different direction.

Stone sighed and smiled brightly as he approached the doctor with nothing in his way, handing him the now cooling latte.

“Your latte, with steamed Austrian goat milk.” He announced, handing the cup to the visibly frustrated doctor.

 To Stone’s relief, Robotnik accepted the latte, nonetheless. “Syco-friend, I’ll leave you to the mercy of the Badniks.” The doctor threatened, grabbing the cup with a glare to the agent who stood beside and behind him a little.

“Understood, Sir.” Stone replied, knowing well that the threat didn’t apply to him as harshly as the other agents before him. He couldn’t help but smile at that thought.

‘They have been more affectionate to me in front of the Doctor as of late…’ Stone thought. It hung heavily between him and Robotnik. Heavy, but not uncomfortable.

Robotnik, on the other hand, wasn’t frustrated of Stone. He hadn’t felt frustrated towards the oblivious man for some time now. But, as his superior and an important asset to G.U.N, he had a reputation to keep up.

‘The Badniks don’t even attempt to be subtle…’ He thought, forcing down the heat that threaten to flush his face.

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

NOTE: The number of badniks mentioned in the fic is accurate to the original post (me thinks)

[captainjamster]

Pairing(s): 141 x Reader Warnings: mentions of (pixel) animal death, butchering of a pixelated cow (rip thank u for ur sacrifice) Wordcount: 2.3k Summary: How I think you would get the boys into Minecraft and/or what it would be like playing with them. AO3 Link: Right here! <3

A/N: Hello why yes, this IS my first post in four months despite the mountain of unfinished fics I have xD I will edit any errors out of this later, but I'm making myself post this because I'm tired of avoiding uploading until something feelings perfect lol

We're pretending Mojang is competent so ignore any inaccuracies to how Minecraft actually works <3

Full fic under the cut <3

Price just plays to amuse you, but he becomes competent at the game ridiculously quickly. Yes, he might jokingly be an old man, as his favourite youthful commander would put it – but this ‘old man’ can learn new tricks, and he’s pretty sure some of the technology he works with would make a civvy’s head spin. Though he’s unfamiliar with most video games and consoles, sacrificing his youth for service, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t heard of them or played a game or two. John will admit; he doesn’t see much point in it, but adores the excitement you glow with as you’re adventuring and building.

“Alright, so it’s w, a, s and d to move, right? And then the space is to jump.” Your hands barely stretch over his, guiding them to the keys.

“S’easy enough, I suppose,” he rumbles, giving you that smile that crinkles his eyes. You resist the urge to kiss them as he adjusts his hands over your keyboard, giving the buttons experimental taps and watching how the screen reacts.

“Yep, and then you use the mouse to control your head, look around and stuff.” You nudge it over to him, and he gives it a shake before looking around.

“More bloody blocks. What’s that thing, there?”

You squint, looking closer. “A sheep, don’t worry about it. You want to try moving around?”

Once you’ve taught him the basics, his rapid acclimation to the games and controls are jarring. While he doesn’t become some Minecraft speed-runner pro, he’s an equally capable player in fights and foraging, and your base is ridiculously plentiful. You’re never lacking resources, and although he never mentions it, you can see John bloom with pride from the corner of your eye whenever you praise him for the neatly organised provisions.

You have to laugh at his suspicion of everything – “is this hostile?”, “this one hostile?”, “s’hostile one?” – and the way he takes protecting you seriously, scolding you for not wearing armour and giving you his own until he can make more.

The first time his dog dies, you think it might be over for your Minecraft run. He goes silent, aggressively hitting the keys as he slaughters the mobs around you, only speaking up when the area is clear. “I didn’t know that would happen,” he mutters, picking up the dropped loot as you make a sympathetic noise. When you log on the next time, waiting for John to come back with snacks from the corner, you don’t mention the small fence with a sign reading ‘Price Jr’ tucked into the oak trees at the edge of a pond – but the next time you check it, there’s another daisy swaying in the wind next to yours.

-----

Gaz knows what Minecraft is AND he’s played it – you’ve even played it together before. This boy is a gamer, and he’s down for a night of co-op couch games and take away with a cosy blanket if you are too.

Though he tries his hardest not to let it show around you, Kyle is aggressively driven in becoming competent, and that includes in video games. You never have to worry about dying, although it becomes a little frustrating when his experience level is more than triple yours – but you can’t even stay frustrated, you learn, as he unfalteringly drops his items and starts building a dirt stack that he jumps from, exploding into clouds and XP that floats towards you with a light, twinkling chiming. When you scold him for doing something so unnecessary, he gives you a kicked puppy look over his shoulder, pouting up at you. “I didn’t want you to wait for me to make a mob farm!”

Unlike Price, this man IS a Minecraft pro – he’s pulling out the water bucket to save you from falling, using beds to fight hostile mobs in the underworlds, zooming around with fireworks and an elytra to find that rare, specific coat of cat you’ve been running across the map looking for. You’re pretty sure that he could’ve beat the Enderdragon twice as fast if you weren’t there, but he still insists you were an equal champion of the fight as he proudly places the dragon head on your trophy wall.

Gaz is always prepared when the 6-month Minecraft fever hits and you make a new server. He’s sending you pinterest links of cute house ideas, making comments about adding another coop for the chickens and a pond for turtles. Hell, he’ll build them with, or even for you, if you want him to.

Playing with him can sometimes be similar to one of those youtube tutorials that cut back to a clip after some ‘offscreen building’ and they’re standing in front six life-scale cathedrals and a replication of Mt Everest – each time you log back on, you swear he’s expanded your base by another chunk, and you can’t even be mad you didn’t get to do anything because your world looks GOOD, and Gaz makes damn sure of it.

He has just about everything you can think of, and if not? There’s a sign next to his bed for you to note anything missing. Your main base is situated within a town of villagers with minecart roads and furnished houses, bakeries, animal centres, banner and dye stores – hell, he’s even built a zoo and an aquarium for the animals you can’t tame. All of your pets have names that he refers to fondly, each with their own little houses in a miniature version of the village. Despite the effort he puts into housing them, Gaz is a menace to the villagers – bad deal? Executed, or imprisoned at best. Sometimes logging onto for a session turns into a dramatic medieval roleplay as you dutifully play the executioner, triggering the trapdoor to give way to the pool of lava while Gaz finishes dramatically reciting the villagers’ crimes from a book - gives the ones that get to live names like ‘village dunce’ and ‘emerald hoarder’.

When you do build by yourself, he’s your project advisor throughout the process, patiently supplying the materials and helping you with the details. “Babe, this doesn’t seem right,” you grumble, head in your hands, “can you please come look?”

He’s quick to slide his chair across to yours, leaning on the sides. “This one,” he announces after a quick scan. “You added an extra block.”

You recount again, letting out a groan as you start breaking the blocks, and Gaz dutifully rolls back to help you. He’s your partner in crime, complicit in indulging your abandonment of any appropriate sleep schedule, staying up until he calls out your name to find you asleep, drooling on the keyboard.

-----

Soap does not give a shit until you mod the fuck out of it.

Yes, he knows what Minecraft is, thank y’very much bonnie, but he just doesn’t care for games that much. Like Price, his youth was spent either trying to get into the military, or actually being in it. The only games he’s entertained are his small selection of first-person shooters he plays occasionally off deployment that you can never beat him in. The topic first comes up is over dinner after a call with Johnny’s family, as he’s grumbling between bites.

“My sisters weans play all sorts ‘o stupid games, bloody bite my head off if I call ‘em the wrong thing – Minecraft, Roblox, aren’t they all the same?”

“Aren’t all shooter games the same, by that assumption?” You point out to his distaste, and he makes a face at you, reaching over the table to steal a bite of your food.

The next day, you pull up Minecraft for him to properly check out. Johnny isn’t particularly enraptured by the charm of the game, but he perks up when you mention the redstone mechanics. “So, it’s really just all block-y? And ye smack things wit’ yer hand?” He frowns, leaning against the back of your chair.

“That’s one part, yeah. But you run around and gather resources, by mining and stuff, so you can craft and build better things to survive – you know – Mine, craft. Minecraft.”

Johnny scoffs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Y’think I’m daft, now? Taken too many knocks to the head, aye?”

“Let go of me, you’re going to get me killed!” You squawk, and he lets you struggle for a moment before he kisses the top of your head and releases it, wandering into the kitchen for what you assume is a snack, knowing Johnny.

The next time he takes interest, you’re still up when he stumbles in blearily, rubbing his eyes. “Bonnie? Yer not really still playin’ this, are ye? Y’haven’t even slept?”

“I was going to sleep soon,” you huff, turning back. “I just need to get a few more things and go back home.”

There’s an incredulous noise amongst footsteps over your shoulder, and his voice is suddenly a lot closer in your ear. “Soon? S’five in’ the morn’ bon, are ye just gon’ sleep the day away?’

You pause the game, spinning the chair around to meet him with a glare. “Why are you up this early?”

“International meeting, don’t go changin’ the subject.” He spins you back around despite your protests, leaning back upon your chair once again and peering at the screen. “Cannae see what yer enjoyin’ about this.”

“Wh – I mean, it’s not like last time. This time, I’ve downloaded these files that modify the games contents, and there’s way more crazy shit. You can mod it so much it’s like a new game.”

Johnny makes a noise of interest, dropping down to settle against your shoulders. “Really now?”

“Yeah, like look at this. I’ve got a gun in the game.”

A shotgun appears in your hand as you scroll to the hotbar tab, and you shoot a shell into the ground, listening as Johnny clicks in appreciation, surprisingly satisfied after his scrutinising. “Alright, show me ‘er properly.”

He hovers over the chair for a few more minutes, taking in your overview of the mods. “Oh, and this one! Hang on, look.” You hit a cow, and Johnny watches as it falls to the floor. Grabbing the body, you drag it over to a pixelated hook, and show him how you break the carcass down through the stages, collecting parts down to the bones.

He makes a noise of interest. “Si would like that. Can ye play with other people?”

You spin around to give him an excited grin, feeling the sleepiness retreat with your rapidly building enthusiasm. “Why, you want to join?”

Johnny scoffs, but there’s no hiding how his eyes gleam as a smile tugs at his lips to mirror yours. “Only after I finish the meetin’, and y’get some decent fuckin’ rest.”

-----

Ghost doesn’t care until Soap asks him to play.

When you originally ask him, it’s a late evening, and he’s curled up on the bed with a book as you deliver the question. There’s a pause in the turning of pages, and you get the usual dead-eyed stare when you say something he thinks is stupid over the edge of his book. ‘Y’want me to play a kid’s game?”

You give him your own scrutinizing look back, before turning back to the screen. “It’s not a kid’s game, Simon. Video games aren’t just for kids.”

He doesn’t press the topic any further, but you know his mind is often unchanged - so it’s a nice surprise when he brings it back up again a month or so later over the quiet chatter of some foreign film he’s watching, stirring you to look up from the words of your book.

“Oi, what’s that game y’were talkin’ about? Bloody… Mineshaft?”

You think Simon knows perfectly well what the game is called, but you humour him, pulling the blanket down slightly to look at him. “Minecraft?”

He snorts, leaning back into the armchair. “Yeah, s’one. Johnny’s bird got ‘im into it, won’t stop yappin’ ‘bout it now.”

You hold your breath, doing your best impression of nonchalance, directing your gaze back to the book. “Oh, yeah? That’s nice, sounds like he’s excited about it.”

Simon gives a non-committal grunt, but you can tell his focus is beyond the screen he’s looking towards. “Asked me t’play it with ‘im, bloody bastard. Said ‘e’d paid for a server or some shite.”

Excitement explodes in the back of your mind as you mentally praise your husband’s co-worker, thanking him for his influence as you steady your tone. “Well, why don’t you?”

He snorts with a cross of his arms, holding the remote against his chest. “Don’t know how to do all that rubbish.”

You close the book, sitting up and waving off his statement assuredly. “I have it installed already, you don’t have to do anything – oh, but can you ask him if he’s playing with mods?”

He’s not impressed with the request, frown deepening. “What, ‘m I your personal messenger now?”

But you’re onto him already, guiding the topic back on track. “Alright,” you give him a dry look, “give me his number then.”

The show pauses, and Simon looks back at you. It takes a moment, but you know you’ve won with a roll of his eyes, grumbling under his breath as he pulls his phone out and passes it to you after another message comes through.

>> Bonnie got me a whole folder of mods. Liek a whole nother game. Yer gonna play minecraft with me?

“So what?”

“Okay, well that’s easy to set up.” You pass the phone back to him, settling into your comfy nest of blankets. “So?”

“Are you going to play with him?”

(A month later, there’s another desk snug against yours while Simon fumbles with his screen settings as a broguish laugh comes from the headset, and Friday nights are something you’re realising you’ll never get back from that goddamn pixel game)

Headers and Dividers by saradika-graphics

[miaoua3]

could you do more wonwoo hcs?? here or on tiktok and maybe a little 18+… 🤫

hi! im doing a round two of husband hcs on tt as it is so he’s coming there either way! but i will do a bit here too, since you requested spicy ones as well (and i don’t want to get reported AGAIN on tt😭) so here you go! enjoy!

Wonwoo Boyfriend Headcanons:

•(sfw! hcs):

i feel like wonu would either go for someone exactly like him- im talking a proper nerd that likes things like lotr, games, is into science and all that- or somebody exactly the opposite of him, like a girly girl that likes makeup and who isn’t really into games all that much (maybe likes playing mario cart?? lol) and who talks 100 miles per hour, he just has this personality that easily adapts to people around him and he always tries to find a common ground with them to talk about so i can see his relationship going either way

we all said this at least once again but let’s repeat it just in case- sitting on his lap while he’s gaming is a MUST, he just loves your weight that grounds him while he’s aggressively typing on his keyboard, plus if you scratch his head while he’s in his own world? bye, he has officially entered heaven and isn’t sure how much he’d like to come back to the earth

unfortunately can’t cook for SHIT so you will have to take over that responsibility lol but he will try to help you to the best pf his abilities like handing you the things or maybe measuring some ingredients, BUT KEEP HIM AWAY FROM THE KNIVES AND MANDOLINS, ANYTHING SHARP FOR THAT MATTER

you would think that he would want to be discreet and keep his relationship a secret…you would think that, wouldn’t you? but then he’s off, buying you EVERYTHING matching, be it clothes, watches, jewellery, even glasses if you need to wear them- he would never want to hide you, he loves you so much and is so proud to be your partner, he wants to parade you around so everyone can know that you two belong to each other, he just doesn’t like going around and airing his business and private things about his relationship

loves to read you books at evening or when you two are going to sleep, there’s just something so calming about having your head resting on his chest or shoulder while he’s reading to you and seeing slowly fall asleep because of his voice-there’s nothing quite like having the love of your life be so at peace with you that they fall asleep because of you alone, there’s something so intimate and precious about the whole thing that always makes him fall asleep with a smile in his face

definitely another one that is obsessed with your hair, he just loves to play with it, twirl it around his fingers, (attempt to) braid it, grab a bit into a pony and spin it around while making helicopter noises lol he’s obsessed and is probably why you need to wash your hair more often because of him, him touching it makes it so much more dirtier so much faster lmao but its okay because he’s just a baby and he isn’t doing it out of some evil intent but because…fluffy hair makes wonu go woooow lemme play with it lol

people heard that therapist say that he gets jealous easily and that he’s a very territorial person and ran with it and made him out to be this cold and borderline aggressive partner (and now he has to play into that fantasy anytime he’s on a talk show which like ew leave my man alone) when that isn’t the case at all-he’s just very protective of you and just wants you to assure him that there isn’t anything for him to worry about because you are HIS and his alone, he just doesn’t look like the type to be so cold and controlling person and idk how most of the fandom came to that conclusion but okay

•(nsfw! hcs):

gets off from hearing you moan and call out his name, he himself isn’t the most vocal in the bedroom but he definitely loves it when you’re all whiny and crying out for him, he literally get 10x harder just from hearing your moans hit the shell of his ear

can definitely see him have a spit kink, just something about you knowing already when to open your mouth and him spitting in your mouth and you swallowing it and opening your mouth to show him that you swallowed it all like a good girl gets him going like nothing else in this world, also likes letting a drop of spit fall on your pussy when he’s about to enter you, he can’t explain it either but he just likes doing this so much like brain go brrrr when your girl swallows your spit

we all saw this coming but lets act surprised okay- cockwarming while he’s gaming is a must, he just loves seeing your leg shake with need while you try to sit there on his cock like a good girl while he, too, is trying to act all normal and talk into the mic while gaming-its all just so erotic and is your type of foreplay that is sure to make him fuck you very hard and well later

i can definitely see him being into collars and leashes (since he’s an anime fan and those two kinda go hand in hand), there’s nothing quite like seeing a pretty collar wrapped around your tiny and slender neck that makes his brain go completely blank- and if you decide to surprise him and pop on a some cat ears on your head? well let’s just you won’t be able to walk the next day lol

another one with a size kink, just seeing himself tower over you and being able to cover your whole body with his own makes his cock ache so hard, seeing how small your hand is while he’s holding it in his own, feeling your small hands on his huge back- it all just makes him so hard and brings him so much pleasure knowing that despite that much difference in size and strength you chose to trust him with your body makes him go even more insane than before

oh this little rascal that loves to finger you in public places will be the death of you, you can’t wear a skirt around him if you are out in public because he will just creep behind you and first start by gently rubbing your butt, and then getting his hand underneath your skirt until he finally full on fingers you in public, you pray to every known god that nobody can see you two and how easy you have given into him fingering you in the bright daylight

isn’t into degrading you by calling you names, but he will definitely kinda mock your from time to time, he will just go “aww, what’s that baby? is this cock too big for you? should we maybe stop then?”, he just likes to rile you up and make you whine in need for him, but he would never call you names :( he loves you too much for that

anyway that’s all for wonwoo! hope you like it nonnie🫶

[uniquexusposts]

I’m not usually like this | L. Stroll (1)

Summary: Lance was working in a cafe and a new girl walked in. He didn't thank the waiter. Instead of ignoring it, she had the audacity to call him out and throw sarcasm at him like they had known each other for years. Part: 1/? A/N: This will be a small series of a few chapters! Inspiration: alijhali on TikTok Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The café hummed with quiet conversations, the occasional clatter of cups against saucers filling the space. The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries. Outside, the city moved at its usual pace; tourists wandered, locals hurried past, and the distant hum of traffic blended with the ambient noise of the café.

Lance sat at a corner table, his laptop open in front of him, fingers poised over the keyboard. A deep crease lined his forehead as he scrolled through data, muttering under his breath. The screen reflected off his furrowed brows, showing columns of numbers and notes. His untouched coffee sat to the side, wisps of steam curling upward before disappearing into the air. He reached for it absentmindedly, taking a sip that barely registered.

It had been a long day. A frustrating one. A series of emails, last-minute schedule changes, and simulator problems had put him in a foul mood. He had come to this café for some peace, hoping to finish reviewing data before heading home. Instead, his patience was running dangerously thin.

Y/n stepped inside, pausing near the entrance. She took a quick glance around the café, searching for an empty table. No luck. The place was packed, with nearly every seat taken by groups of friends, solo workers, and tourists enjoying an afternoon coffee. The only available spot was across from a man who looked like he had just lost an argument with his laptop.

She hesitated. Sitting with a stranger wasn’t exactly her first choice, especially one radiating that much irritation, but she didn’t have much of an option. Adjusting the strap of her bag, she walked over.

"Is this seat taken?" she asked, motioning to the chair opposite him.

Lance barely spared her a glance, his jaw tightening. "No."

The single word came out curt, edged with impatience. Y/n raised an eyebrow at his tone. She had expected a yes or no, not a whole attitude. Still, she wasn’t about to argue over a seat. With a small shrug, she set her bag down and took a seat.

Minutes passed in silence. Y/n busied herself on her laptop, typing emails and browsing on the internet. Lance remained glued to his screen, fingers tapping away aggressively. The air between them was thick with unspoken annoyance; his, from whatever was on his laptop, and hers, from the way he had dismissed her without a second thought.

The waiter arrived with his coffee, setting it down with a polite nod. Lance accepted it without looking up, too engrossed in whatever data he was analysing.

Y/n exhaled sharply. "You're not going to say thank you?"

Lance blinked, finally looking up from his laptop. "What?"

"You didn’t thank the waiter," she pointed out.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "I just have a lot on my mind."

"Uh-huh." Y/n wasn’t convinced but decided to let it go. It wasn’t her problem if he wanted to be rude.

Time ticked by. The café’s hum remained steady, the soft chatter of patrons blending with the background music playing from the speakers. Y/n shifted in her seat, stretching her legs slightly under the table. Her eyes moved to the message from her laptop; 10 percent left.

She glanced around. "Is there a socket nearby?"

Lance exhaled sharply through his nose, barely looking up. "Behind you."

Y/n turned to check, realising it was just out of reach. She sighed, shaking her head. "You could’ve just said no."

Lance’ fingers stilled over his keyboard. He looked up, finally giving her his full attention. "Excuse me?"

She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. "Do you think you’re cool? Because you’re not."

Lance blinked, clearly thrown off. "What?"

"Are you single?"

His brows furrowed. "Yeah, why?"

Y/n smirked. "Are we surprised?"

Lance stared at her, dumbfounded. For a second, he didn’t know whether to be annoyed or entertained. He had been expecting her to ignore him like everyone else usually did when he was in a bad mood. Instead, she had the audacity to call him out and throw sarcasm at him like they had known each other for years.

The corner of his mouth twitched; just slightly. He leaned back, arms crossing over his chest as he studied her. "You’ve got a lot of opinions for someone who just sat down."

Y/n shrugged. "Someone had to tell you."

Lance huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You don’t even know me."

"And yet, here we are," she said, plugging in her laptop as if she hadn’t just completely thrown him off balance.

Silence stretched between them again, but this time, it felt different. Lance found himself glancing at her now and then, intrigued despite himself. She wasn’t intimidated by his grumpiness. If anything, she seemed amused by it. He didn’t know why, but her words stung just a little. It wasn’t that he thought he was too important; it was just… a bad day. But the way she had called him out so effortlessly made him feel like he had to defend himself.

"I’m not usually like this," he admitted.

Y/n gave him a skeptical look. "Mhm. Sure."

"I’m serious."

"I bet you are."

Lance sighed, shaking his head with a small chuckle. "You’re ridiculous," he muttered.

"And yet, you’re still talking to me," Y/n shot back with a grin.

Lance exhaled through his nose, amusement flickering in his gaze. He had no idea who she was, but for the first time that day, he didn’t mind the company.

Part 2

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria @maryvibess @ironmaiden1313 @sltwins @heart-trees @npcmia @llando4norris

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

A Different Kind of Noise

Pairing: John Price x Simon “Ghost” Riley

AU: Price is a Writer, Ghost is a motorcycle rider neither in Military

Warnings: Spice, Angst aggressiveness from the boys

Authors Note:There’s some spice and this is the first part but thank you to @devil-in-hiding for proof reading it and these parts go out to you love!

Word Count: 1.3k

Part 2 Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

John Price had always been a man of routine. His loft, perched on the top floor of an old brick building, was his sanctuary—a quiet, cluttered space filled with books, the smell of tobacco from his pipe, and the steady click of fingers on a keyboard. It was a peaceful existence, one that allowed him to focus on his writing without distractions.

But then, his new neighbor arrived, and everything changed.

It started with the motorcycle. The sound of a roaring engine ripped through the air one afternoon, cutting through the calm like a chainsaw. Price had been in the middle of editing a chapter when the noise startled him, making him lose his train of thought. He frowned, glanced out the window, and there he was—his new neighbor.

The man was impossible to miss. Dressed head-to-toe in black leather, his face hidden behind a dark helmet, he straddled the sleek, powerful bike like he owned the street. On the back of his jacket, in bold letters, was the word *Ghost,* alongside the image of a skull.

Price sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He had a bad feeling about this.

The noise didn’t stop. Every night, without fail, the man would come back on his bike, the engine loud enough to shake the windows. Then came the music—blaring, heavy metal that thumped through the thin walls of the building, rattling the calm Price so desperately clung to.

After two weeks of this, Price had reached his limit.

Price banged on the door, his patience worn thin. He had tried to be understanding, but there was only so much a man could take. The door creaked open, revealing his new neighbor for the first time without the helmet.

The man—Simon Riley, though Price hadn’t known that yet—was more intimidating up close. Tall, muscular, with a rough, rugged look, Simon had a skull bandana covering the lower half of his face. His eyes, however, were sharp and piercing, watching Price with an amused glint.

“You got a problem, mate?” Simon asked, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. The casual confidence in his stance only annoyed Price more.

“Yeah, I’ve got a problem. That bloody bike of yours,” Price growled. “And the music. Some of us enjoy a bit of peace.”

Simon’s eyes flicked over him, the amusement deepening. “Didn’t know I was disturbing a monk. I’ll try to keep it down.”

Price wasn’t sure if he was being mocked, but before he could respond, Simon closed the door, leaving Price standing in the hallway, fuming.

The music did quiet down, but the tension between them only grew. Their encounters were brief, filled with subtle jabs and long, lingering looks. Price couldn’t stand the man’s arrogance, his devil-may-care attitude. And yet, there was something about Simon that pulled him in—something magnetic.

It didn’t help that Simon was infuriatingly attractive. Every time Price saw him, whether it was working on his bike in the building’s garage or catching him in the hallway, the sight of him stirred something deep in Price’s gut that he didn’t want to acknowledge.

One night, after an especially frustrating day of writer’s block, Price found himself once again at Simon’s door. He didn’t even know why he was there. Maybe he needed a distraction, maybe he was just sick of being alone, or maybe it was the way Simon had been looking at him lately, like he knew exactly what was on Price’s mind.

He knocked, half-expecting Simon to ignore it. But the door opened, and there he was—shirtless, sweat-slicked from what appeared to be a late-night workout. His chest was broad, muscles defined, and Price swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sudden heat that rushed through him.

“Well, look who’s back,” Simon said, his voice low and teasing. “Miss me already?”

Price glared, though it was weaker than usual. “I need a drink.”

Simon’s eyebrow arched, and a smirk curled his lips. “A drink, huh? Didn’t take you for the type to ask.”

“I’m not asking,” Price shot back, pushing past him into the apartment. It was messy, full of bike parts and old records, but it felt lived in. Simon shut the door behind him, and the tension in the room immediately thickened.

Simon didn’t say anything for a while, just walked to the small kitchenette and grabbed two beers from the fridge. He handed one to Price, who took it with a grunt. They stood there in silence for a moment, the unspoken energy between them crackling in the air.

“So, what’s really going on, Price?” Simon asked, leaning back against the counter, his gaze never leaving Price’s. “You don’t come knocking just because you need a drink.”

Price took a long pull from the bottle, trying to calm the thoughts racing through his head. “Maybe I’m just tired of the noise.”

“Or maybe you want something else,” Simon said, his voice dropping to a near-growl.

Price’s heart pounded in his chest. He could feel the tension boiling over, the thing they’d been dancing around since the moment they met. The way Simon was looking at him now—dark, hungry, waiting—it sent a shiver down Price’s spine.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Price muttered, but the words were weak.

Simon set his beer down and took a step closer. “Don’t I? You’ve been staring at me since the day I moved in. Thought I hadn’t noticed, did you?”

Price felt his throat tighten. Simon was right, of course. He had noticed the way Price’s gaze lingered, the way his body reacted whenever Simon was near. And now, standing here, Simon shirtless, their bodies inches apart, there was no denying it anymore.

“What’s it gonna be, John?” Simon’s voice was a low rumble, and the sound of his real name on Simon’s lips sent a jolt of heat through him.

Before Price could think, before he could talk himself out of it, he grabbed Simon by the collar and yanked him down, crashing their mouths together. The kiss was rough, all teeth and heat, as if all the tension between them was finally breaking free. Simon growled against his lips, his hands gripping Price’s hips and pulling him closer, their bodies colliding in a desperate, feverish need.

Price had never been kissed like this—like someone was devouring him whole. Simon’s hands were everywhere, sliding under his shirt, gripping his back, pulling him even closer. The heat between them was unbearable, every touch sending sparks of electricity through Price’s veins.

“Bed,” Simon growled against his mouth, his voice rough and thick with desire.

Price didn’t hesitate, letting Simon guide him toward the bed, his mind spinning with the intensity of it all. Simon shoved him down onto the mattress, and Price gasped at the sudden loss of control, but the thrill of it only made him harder. Simon loomed over him, his eyes dark with hunger as he ripped off Price’s shirt, tossing it to the floor.

Their mouths met again, this time slower, more deliberate, as Simon’s hands explored Price’s body with rough, calloused fingers. Price arched up into the touch, groaning as Simon’s mouth moved down his neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Simon…” Price gasped, his fingers tangling in Simon’s hair, pulling him closer.

Simon chuckled darkly against his skin, the sound sending a shiver down Price’s spine. “Thought you’d never ask, Captain.”

The rest of the night was a blur of heat and skin, of moans and curses as they finally gave in to the tension that had been building between them for weeks. And as they lay together afterward, their bodies spent and tangled in the sheets, Price couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, the noise wasn’t so bad after all.

Hope you enjoyed! Please follow, like and Reblog💜 -Midnight’s Cafe