#but. i'm running out of everything. mm

[forgotten-daydreamer]

idk how to remind a woman i tutor that she still hasn't paid me last week's lesson 🧍 i don't want to be like "hey remember to pay up when you can, please!!" because she's my cousin's friend (they're in their mid 30s) but huh... is there a sneaky way to tell her? less direct but that will make her brain go "wait shit i forgot"? because i'm sure she just forgot. but that's... grocery money for me :(( we have a lesson tomorrow too but how do i remind her?? help

[yeagersss]

Sukuna x Blind!Reader (Part 2)

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For some reason he found himself going back to you.

As hard as it was for him to admit it but you—a fragile, blind woman had managed to pique his interest.

So every once in a week, he left his temple and found himself wandering to your house in a state of boredom. Sometimes he encountered someone—a human, a curse or a wild animal. He slaughtered them without a second thought.

You managed to tell it's him just by the sound of his heavy footsteps and according to you, his scent.

"Copper, ash and sandalwood. That's how I can tell it's you." You told him enthusiastically.

Sukuna doesn't do much when he's at your place. He sits on the tatami mat and observes you as you move around, rambling about whatever you did that day.

And it turns out. You weren't lying when you said you have a system.

You knew every nook and cranny of your little house. You knew where everything was. What to do and how to do it. Your blindness did not stop you from living your simple yet fulfilling life.

It was interesting to see you navigating around. It was either with your walking stick or by touching the walls. You explained it to him with a soft smile on your face.

"I can tell I'm in the kitchen because there's a scratch on the wall near the shelves." You explained, feeling around for it and when you did, you beamed and went inside to prepare something for Sukuna.

Your dishes were simple. Miso soup, fish, rice and sometimes chopped fruits or vegetables on the side. Nothing rich and grand like Uraume prepares for him.

But the fact that you actually manage to prepare it properly and not screw it up was— sort of—impressive.

"Do you like it, my lord?" You asked while nibbling on your grilled fish.

"Passable." Was all Sukuna grunted. You pouted at that.

His lower left eye was fixed on you. "You should eat more meat. Don't you get tired of eating fish all day?"

You hummed, chewing your meal slowly in thought. "Mm... I have eaten rabbit meat before... But meat is really expensive and it's not like I can hunt for it." You said with a soft giggle.

And then during his next visit, he brought something for you.

You greeted him with your usual smile. "Good morning, my lor—eep!" You exclaimed, startled when something was tossed on the wooden floor with a loud thud.

"W-What was that?!"

"A boar."

"A boar?!"

"It's dead. Stop worrying." Sukuna said, running a hand across the dead animal's fur. "This is what we're eating tonight."

You relaxed and perked up at his words in interest but then the stench of blood hits your nose and you gasped.

"My lord, I just finished cleaning the floor!" You whined.

"So?"

"So—" You frowned and marched right up to him, your eyes unintentionally fixed on his chest with a glare. "At least warn me next time you decide to bring a dead animal inside the house!"

Sukuna stared down at you. His lips quirking up in amusement that you—a tiny, little blind woman who barely reached his chest was scolding him of all people.

... It was... adorable. So to speak.

He smirked. "And what if I don't?" He asked, enjoying the fact that he was riling you up.

Your lip jutted out in an angry pout. "Then... Then I will not speak to you the next time you visit." You huffed, crossing your arms.

"Hah! Impossible. I will make sure you can't ignore me."

"I won't cook anything for you."

"Go ahead. I shall simply raid your pantry and eat everything that is there."

You turned back to him and glared at his chest again. "You're insufferable!"

He grinned, enjoying this senseless, little argument he was having with you. For some reason, it got his heart acting up.

"At least look me in the eyes when you argue with me, woman."

You frowned at that and tilted your head a bit up. Your clouded eyes where fixed on his collarbone now. He snorts. "Not even close."

Your breath hitched when you felt his finger curl beneath your chin and he tilted your head up and up and up...

"There we go." He hummed in delight as he gazed at your face with a certain intensity. His eyes drinking in each and every one of your features. He watched the way your cheeks tainted pink and your lips curled into a silent oh as you noted this detail about him. That he is far taller than any man you have ever met.

He lets go of you and steps back, a frown on his face as he changes the topic. "Are you simply going to stand there gawking at me, woman? It's time to prepare the meat."

You opened your mouth to protest that you were incapable of gawking at anyone but were cut off when your stomach grumbled.

You flushed in embarrassment while his lips perked up slightly.

It was strange having him in the kitchen helping you.

Well, besides cutting up the boar meat, his help consisted of standing in the corner telling you what to do. With some trial and error, you managed to prepare a dish with some herbs and rice.

"This is so good!" You exclaimed happily.

"Hmph. Not bad."

You beamed at that. Despite his words, you could tell by the tone of his voice that he liked it.

--

"Do you love poetry, my lord?"

Both of you were sitting by the river one day. The question stirring up after a minute of silence.

Instinctively, Sukuna opened his mouth to say no. But he stopped. At this point, is it really necessary to hide his guilty pleasure for the arts from you?

"Yes."

You smiled. "Oh! That's nice! Yesterday I was in the village and a poet was reading his works in the main market." You hummed, tapping your chin in thought. "It was about the tragedies of love but... It didn't particularly move me and his voice was too shrilly."

Sukuna couldn't help but snort at that. "That was no poet. It was a con man simply tricking gullible humans into tossing coins to him."

You smiled at that. "Ah... It's no wonder I was getting such bad vibes from him."

Sukuna frowned. "And you don't get these so-called "bad vibes" from me?"

You laughed softly. "No at all! Oh! Wait here! I want to show you something." You said, eagerly grabbing your walking stick and standing up to go into your house.

You came back a few minutes later. A scroll in hand and you sat back down next to him.

He noted you were closer than earlier. Your knee gently brushing against his.

You sat there in silence for a moment, your fingertips gently brushing against the scroll in your hand as if it was your most delicate possession. Then you untied and slowly opened it.

"This is my mother's collection." You mumbled softly. "She was an... avid reader and writer. She loved writing about nature. The beauty and life in it."

You were looking straight ahead with your clouded eyes in a solemn gaze. "It's also why I live here. It's easy to get inspiration when you live in a place like this." You giggled humorlessly.

Sukuna stared at you with narrowed eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

You quickly wiped your unshed tears away. "No reason! I simply got sentimental." You sniffled.

You hold out the scroll to him. "Would you like to read it, my lord?"

He found himself unable to refuse. In a way, he was curious to see your mother's works. He took the scroll from your hand, noting just how dusty it was. The pages were turning yellow from the corner. It seems that it had been stored away for years, completely untouched and this was the first time it was taken out since then.

His eyes scanned across each syllable. He had to admit, he was quite impressed. Not only was the calligraphy quite elegant but the meaning behind the poems were thought provoking too.

Next to him, you shifted softly. His lower set of eyes went to you, taking in your slumped posture. Your eyes were downcasted while you nervously wringed your hands.

When he finished reading the first poem, he read the second one out loud.

He watched the way you perked up. Your breath hitched in a soft gasp. A delicate smile graced your lips and your cheeks flushed a soft shade of red.

You intently listened to your mother's poems as the King of Curses narrated them in his deep, baritone voice.

And somewhere along the way, you found yourself leaning against him in utter content. "You have a very beautiful voice, my lord." You whispered shyly.

Sukuna, on the other hand, stiffened at your soft gesture and comment. He had paused his reading to stare at you. You— the blind woman who was somehow so brave enough to lean against him like he made you feel safe and happy. Like you were utterly grateful to him.

He went back to reading out loud again, wondering deeply why his heart felt so light and warm.

[invoncible]

have you ever thought of writing for one of Marks variants? If so you should definitely do Mohawk Mark his cocky attitude is so ugh …. i love your work by the way!

— thank you nonnie hope you like this ! I LOVE MOHAWK MARK OMG

"you know, i feel like i've seen you before." mohawk mark had you by your wrists, preventing your escape as he pinned you to the ground. he studied your face like you were a toy in his hands.

fuck. your boss had sent you to your death yet again. when you signed with your news station, you didn't realize you'd be signing your life away chasing these heroes and their problems.

you thought this was invincible—everyone did until a few minutes ago. they had similar getups and abilities. it was a logical conclusion, right?

wrong. within minutes of pulling up to the penitentiary, the news van was tossed onto its side, a invincible sized hole cut clean through the back. the variant grabbed you and your cameraman by the clothes and dragged you onto the ground... and here you were.

"oh, yeah!" mark snapped his finger, a wicked grin spreading on his face. "you're that news reporter! i remember you... didn't kill you back home cuz you always got my good side." he leaned in, taking your chin in his fingers and guiding you to look up at him. "s'that what you're doing here? you like the view in this dimension too?"

his eyes flicker dangerously to your cameraman, who was shaking behind the heavy lens on his shoulder. he huffed a small laugh at the sight, like the fear he smelled off your partner really got him going.

"yes!" you quickly exclaim, forcing his attention back to you.

his eyes snapped back to you. blood rushed to your head, pulse thundering in your ears. you try your best to not flinch at the way his rough fingers dug into your skin.

"what can i say," you laughed weakly. "you're the hot topic right now, had to get a piece for... myself?"

he paused, his expression like stone as he peered between you and your cameraman, weighing the options in his head: do i kill them for fun, or let them entertain me for a little bit?

after a long pase, mark rose effortlessly to his feet, dragging you up with him by your wrists. he slung his arm around your shoulders like you were old friends in some twisted version of reality. he twirled you around in the ruins, the destruction stretching out in front of you like some sick display of power.

“you like what i’ve done with the place?” he asked, voice dripping with mock innocence as he took in the scattered bodies, the blood-slicked ground.

"oh..." your eyes trailed over the wreckage, the broken limbs and bodies sprinkled over the ground like confetti, and all the blood was the icing on the top. "impressive."

you weren't lying, exactly. it was an impressive show of power, as sick as it was. unease twisted in your gut.

"i knew i liked you." he chuckled. "hey, let's get rid of this." he grabbed the mic from your hand and crushed it, the circuitry sparking one last time before dying completely.

"i mean, sure, i could kill you. it'd be a waste of a pretty face, so i’m not gonna. we've got history, you and i."

your pulse quickened. your eyes darted to your cameraman, who had already taken off, running toward another van and driving off. you grit your teeth. fucking coward.

you felt the weight of mark’s gaze burning into your back as he clicked his tongue in disappointment.

"i'm not the same as your y/n." you reminded him quietly.

"yeah? come home with me 'nd find out."

"no." your eyebrows furrowed.

he smiled, your resistance rolling off his back like it meant nothing. "you're gonna. two y/ns are better than one, and besides you're gonna love my place—it's a palace. i'll get you a nice room and everything. all you'd have to do is stay by my side."

"mm..." you glared at him, trailing off but communicating your answer loud and clear. not that you thought he'd listen to you anyways. his grip on you was almost possessive. this guy was superpowered, for fuck's sake. you were dead for the second he decided he was done playing around with you.

"ohohoho," he chuckled, raising an amused eyebrow. "you're lucky you're cute. but you're coming with me." he shot up into the sky, already set on taking you to wherever he intended to stash you until he had a way back to his dimension.

you shrieked as you were vaulted into the air, anchored only by his arm around your waist.

"shhh," he grinned wildly, his hair fluttering in the wind. "you were the one that wanted a piece for yourself. you gonna refuse me when i'm accommodating you so nicely?"

against your better judgement, you clung to him and hoped that his nice mood lasted a long, long time.

© invoncible

[ubeb0nes]

Things Sevika says as your lover…

❧ ❧ ❧

Let me do it. / I'll handle it. / Don't worry, I'll take care of it.

She wants to take care of you so, so bad. Whether that's opening every door and pulling out every chair for you, or wiping someone off the face of the earth in your name.

She's in her element when she's of service. Deep down, she thinks that as long as she proves useful then your continued affection is almost guaranteed.

Can't do that anymore, my woman/partner said so. / Wrap this up. I gotta get home to them.

She is yours, no ifs or buts about it. And she makes sure everyone knows how fiercely loyal she is, she will not be doing anything to disrespect your boundaries or your relationship.

Obviously her work and her abrasive nature will put a natural strain on some parts of your relationship, but she's never intentionally causing you distress. Loyalty's her most important personal value, and you have the most of hers.

No, get behind me! / I said stay here. / I need you safe, understand?

You're a culmination of everything she's fighting for. All the beauty of Zaun, her reason for sticking her heart in this city, you are all of that personified. So you can't die. You can't get hurt.

If she has to lock you in the house to keep you from following her into a death mission, she will. You'll understand. She's always taken a beating for the ones she loves, the role thrust upon her that she now clings to like a hardy mask.

Stand down. / Down, baby. / I don't care if you don't like it, follow orders.

If you follow her into combat, good luck with getting bossed around like crazy. She always keeps you in her line of sight, preferably also within three feet of you so she can jump in front of you to sacrifice another limb if need be.

She's also absolutely zero nonense while working. She isn't flirting with you or showing vulnerability in front of her crew, but she is relishing in getting to tell you what to do (and she expects you to heed immediately).

'S all for you, doll… / Mm-mm, you're not getting up… / Pretty thing… so warm… love you so much…

She only ever talks like this when she's sleepy, or just waking up. She doesn't say I love you much (outside of when she's leaving for work), as to her, it takes away from the weight of it (WRONG imo, but in character i think lol).

The sweetest sweetheart ever when she's all wrapped up in your arms. Her voice is even lower in the mornings, with a distinct gravel to her tone. She uses it to her advantage, whispering such sweet things in your ear as she "subtly" traps you in her arms to keep you in bed.

She keeps repeating the same things over and over again, praising you and professing her love like there's no tomorrow. Her favorite love language switches to words of affirmation while she's drowsy lol.

So good to me, god you keep me sane. / I'm gonna fuckin' give you everything… / You smell so good, I could eat you (she then does actually try to bite you and you scream and push her off the bed)

Nsfw under the cuttt~

Uh uh, don't run from me. / Stop moving. / You're gonna take it either way, don't whine.

One of your favorite games is to see how long you can hold out being a brat (i.e., closing your legs every time she spreads them, shifting your hips away, etc.) before you make her snap and she just manhandles you.

Her displays of strength are usually subtle, like lifting you steadily off the floor and laying you down slowly on the bed without struggle. But when you do finally get her to snap, she's flipping you over on the bed like a pancake, and holding you up against the wall with just her human arm as she fucks you. She barely breaks a sweat holding you down on the bed, no matter how strong or how determined your bratty ass may be.

I'm never fuckin' sharing you, baby. / Look at me. Don't look away, those are *my* pretty eyes, I wanna see them. / Is that good, doll? Whose making you feel good? Mhm, and don't forget it…

Chances are that you end up being the jealous one in your relationship rather than her. But she is extremely possessive. When she gets especially in a mood, she's intent upon fucking you until your brain melts and you're nothing but putty in her hands, obsessed with her.

She reminds you how good she makes you feel, and how she's the only one that can fuck you that way. You're always extra cuddly and touchy in the days following, and she loves it because she knows it means she's stuck on your mind.

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Crave you

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: smut, fluff

synopsis: you wake up craving your boyfriend.

wc: 1.3k

warnings: oral (m), somnophilia, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: i usually don't do requests, but an anonie sent in an ask for their birthday and i wanted to write something for them, if you're reading this i hope you like it and it's what you wanted🫶🏻 happy bday💕

~masterlist

The warmness of the sun was peeking through your curtains, warming you up even further than you already were.

With all the blankets thrown over you and the warm body pressing against your backside, you were more than comfortable.

Your lovely boyfriend finally had a few days off and he wanted to spend them attached to your hip, which of course you were excited about.

As you were slowly waking up, your eyes still closed, the familiar smell of you and Hyunjin was enveloping your senses and making you tingle.

Hyunjin had his arms around you, his hand on your breast of course, 'for emotional support', as he'd say and you pushed back into him, your core throbbing with want.

You listened to his slow deep breaths, realizing he was fast asleep, not moving a muscle but still as you wiggled your ass against his crotch, you could feel him getting hard, his cock pressing against you.

Arousal pooled on your panties, waves of hotness running over your body, you were needier than ever.

You managed to slither out of his arms somehow (after lots of struggling because he didn't want to let go of you), turning towards him as he grunted a little, smacking his lips before continuing to sleep.

Perfect, you thought, your eyes raking all over his frame, he looked so beautiful, angelic even, a vision of everything you love right there in your bed.

You didn't want to waste much time as you felt impatient, your hand reaching out for his bulge as you grabbed it gently, palming him for a few moments.

Hyunjin moaned in his sleep, pushing up into you without even realizing it.

You hooked your fingers in his boxers and slid them down, his cock slapping against his abdomen, hot and heavy, so delicious just for you.

You leaned in as you wrapped your fingers around the base, your tongue darting out to pick up the pre cum oozing out of his tip.

The salty liquid woke your taste buds up, spurring you on as you started swirling your tongue around his head.

Hyunjin's breathing became ragged but he was still asleep, his fingers twitching by his side as you played with your tongue, dipping it into his slit and down his sensitive underside.

Hyunjin's legs trembled as you wrapped your lips around the tip, sucking on it, your free hand fondling his balls.

"Mm... ah!" he moaned, jolting into you when you squeezed him, slowly taking more of his length in.

His hips moved involuntarily, lifting up to meet you half away as you started sucking on him slowly, the tip of your tongue running over the prominent vein gracing his entire length.

"L-love..." he was waking up now, blinking before looking down at you with a mix of lust and confusion that almost made you laugh, but he was too deep inside your mouth so you just hummed around him.

"Oh! That feels good." his head fell back into the pillow, his voice deep and laced with sleep, his hair a mess around his face which was now twisted in pleasure as you started bobbing your head faster.

"Fuck, darling!" he whined, his hand tangling in your hair as you kept taking him in, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat, making your eyes water but it only made you even more hungry to have him inside you.

You lifted off of him and he whimpered, looking at you like he was completely lost in you and the pleasure you were giving him, his brain still in the state of sleep.

"I need you, Jinnie." you slid your shirt off, before hooking your fingers in your panties.

"I'm right here baby." he said, lifting up but you pushed him down with your hand on his chest.

"Lay back, lover." you smirked at him and he groaned, his head hitting the pillow once again.

Tossing your panties somewhere behind you, you threw your leg over him, grabbing his cock and running it over your wet folds.

"Ah please, put it in." Hyunjin whines, hot and bothered from the way you woke him up.

You moan in response, slowly sinking down on his cock, the stretch is always delicious as you take him in all the way until his tip kisses your cervix and you sit on him, circling your hips a little to adjust.

Hyunjin's eyes roll back, his hands on your thighs as he grips the flesh.

You start to slowly move your hips, lifting up only a little and Hyunjin is already a moaning mess, his eyes falling down as he stares at the place where the two of you are connected.

He looks mesmerized as you fuck yourself on him, his big hands running all over your thighs to your waist and up to your breasts as he squeezes them, playing with your perky nipples.

Your eyes flutter closed as you lose yourself in the feeling of Hyunjin filling you up perfectly, his cock stretching you just right and touching you in all the right places, like it was made just for you.

You start fucking on him harder, lifting up more as your juices coat his length and drip down into his trimmed bush, you keep taking him in deeper as your hips smack down on his deliciously.

Hyunjin groans, his eyes shut tight, brows furrowed, his middle lifting up into yours, meeting your movement as his skin glistens with sweat.

You look down as you keep rocking on him, your eyes caught on the little hairs sticking to his sweaty forehead, the way his eyelashes lay on his skin, the way he keeps licking and biting at his lips, little moans and gasps of pleasure leaving them.

Your eyes fall to his neck, his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows and you clench around him, making him whine.

Hyunjin opens his eyes and looks at you, almost crossed eyed from the pleasure and something burns inside his soul when he sees the way your eyes travel all over his body, the way you fuck on him, taking him so well, your titties bouncing with every movement.

He grips your hips and starts fucking up into you harder, the bed creaking under you and you almost fall apart when he starts abusing your hole like that.

A string of loud moans and curses leave your lips as you become putty in his hold, your pussy clenching around him, his pelvis stimulating your clit as it keeps rubbing against him.

You cry out as you come, squirting on him with tears of pleasure gathering in your eyes and Hyunjin groans, fucking up into you hard twice before you feel his cock twitch followed by hot spurts of cum filling you up to the brim.

You whine, riding out your high as you keep moving against him, milking him dry.

"B-baby..." Hyunjin whimpers, his whole body shuddering against the bed and you lean down to capture his lips in a passionate, loving kiss.

You lay on top of him as he slips out, and you can feel his cum seeping out of your fucked out pussy, both of you wet but you don't care, you need to be close to each other.

His arms wrap around you as he gently caresses your hair, carding his fingers through it, leaving little kisses on your head.

You listen to his heartbeat, almost falling asleep against him until he giggles.

"What's gotten into you? Not that I'm complaining, just curious." Hyunjin smiles cutely as you look up at him.

"I just needed you." you pout and he chuckles again.

"My sweet girl. You can take me whenever you need me." he grabs your face gently, guiding you to his lips. "I love you."

"I love you so much, Jinnie." you mumble against his lips.

"That was the best way to wake me up, but tomorrow morning I'm returning the favor." he smirks and you laugh happily, kissing him again.

You're in no hurry to get up, even if you need to wash up and eat because stealing as many moments as you can with Hyunjin is more meaningful than anything.

~taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @jeonginslefthand @porangporangmeong @laughatdanger @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana

[dark-l-angel]

hi!! I saw that you accept request, so I have an idea. It's not really a creative one but I'm obsessed with clingy Jason Todd 😭😭 so I was thinking if you can maybe (please🙏) write something where reader needs to go to work but Jason stops reader because he's needy. Do you get it😭😭

Thank you!

-G.A.

A/N: needy, whiny, bed-hogging Jason who clings like a big heat-emitting emotional weighted blanket telling you to quit that damned job that keeps you away from HIM? YES.. I've been waiting for this moment..

Clingy jason Todd x Reader

Clingy jason, reader is tired of their job. Everything else is fluff

The sun had barely risen. Pale gold light filtered through the curtains you swore you closed the night before, and the shrill alarm on your phone had already gone off.. twice. You were late.

You groaned and shifted, trying to sit up, but you didn’t get far.

There it was. That arm. That damn arm.. muscular, warm, and currently locked like a steel bar across your waist.

"Jason..." you warned softly, already knowing the game he was playing.

He didn’t answer. Not with words, at least. His only response was a muffled grunt into the crook of your neck, his nose nudging against your skin like a sleepy, stubborn dog refusing to move. You could feel his scruff, slightly overgrown, tickling your jaw.

"Jay, I have to go," you tried again, wiggling just enough to reach the edge of the bed.

"Mm-mm" he muttered, holding tighter. "Call in."

"I can’t just call in every time you get clingy-"

"You say that like it’s not a perfectly valid reason.." he interrupted, voice gravelly and deep from sleep. "Tell them your husband is a needy bastard and he’ll literally die if you leave him in this cold, cruel world alone."

You turned just enough to catch his expression.

Eyes still half-lidded, hair sticking up on one side, and that little pout forming on his lips. He looked like trouble disguised as a Greek god wrapped in a blanket burrito. Holding you in one arm while the other hugged a cute pink mochi-cat plushie.

"Jay..." you said again, but this time it was harder to fight the smile tugging at your lips.

He cracked one eye open. "What if I’m cold? You gonna leave your poor man here all defenseless and shivering while you run off to.. what.. type emails?"

"Not defenseless," you snorted. "You have guns, Jason... There's one inside that cat plushie.. and one under our pillows.. and another two in each of the nightstands jay.. "

He chuckled "And yet none of them keep me as warm as you.. and THAT JOB? It’s draining you. And I hate it. I hate seeing you come home exhausted, giving them all your time when I could be giving you everything... I don't fuckin know why you're still insisting on working when i can work instead.."

You looked down at your phone.. the messages of your coworker asking about why you're late..

Jason continued "I don’t want you breaking your back just to survive. I want you to be safe, healthy and happy. I didn’t crawl out of the damn Pit, rebuild my whole damn life, just to watch the woman I FUCKIN love so damn much struggle.. SO.. quit. Stay home. Sleep in. Read your books. Take long baths. Buy shit loads of brands, makeup and skincare... Hell, start that little dream project you've been putting off. I’ll handle the rest. I'm the man in this relationship.. the one who protects, provides, and handles the weight. And my baby? Her only job is to Be soft. Be spoiled. Be mine. You doesn’t ask for luxury.. you expects it. And I make damn sure you get it.. while you.. you? You just focus on looking pretty, being yourself, and let me give you the life you were born to live."

You got beaten quite badly.. yet you rolled your eyes yet you almost couldn't contain your smile. "You’re being ridiculous."

"You like ridiculous. It’s part of my charm. Now shut up and cuddle me."

He tugged you back down with very little effort, pulling your face into his chest and throwing a thigh over your hip like a greedy child with a favorite stuffed animal. His heartbeat thumped steadily beneath your cheek, and his scent.. warm, woodsy, something expensive you could never pronounce.. made it that much harder to resist.

"...Five more minutes," you mumbled into his skin.

Jason smirked, victorious. "That’s my girl."

And five minutes somehow turned into 2hrs. You didn’t even feel bad.

Ps: i really needed to see someone write jason with that speech 🫠💕

"yeah babe... maybe I'll quit". And like that.. his bby girl never came to work again ✨ and she lived happily in her husband's muscular arms forever 💖

[multi-fandom-imagine]

In another life || Seong Gi-Hun ||

A/n: Im not happy with that ending so I'm fixing it.

Au: Where the reader is a daughter of the richest VIP, she was often helping Kim-Jun, she and Gi-Hun fell for one another

*Spoilers*

The heavy silence of the sky, circling the three towering buildings like vultures. Below them, chaos unfolds. Blood stains the pristine glass of the Triangle. Cries echo from the Circle. The final three players are little more than ghosts now, barely clinging to life and purpose—333, 456, and the small child held tight against Gi-hun’s chest.

But up above, far removed from the carnage and desperation, you sit in a gold-trimmed VIP box high above the arena. The other VIPs leer and chuckle through gold masks and liquored breath, but you don’t move. You haven’t since the game began.

You’ve been watching him. Heart in your throat, hand trembling, eyes glued to the man who had fallen in love with.

Seong Gi-hun.

His shirt is torn, stained with blood and dust. His face is swollen and bruised from the last fight. Yet even now, with his hands trembling, clutching the baby of a dead woman as if she were his own, he doesn’t beg. He doesn’t run. He protects.

“He’s fascinating,” one of the VIPs purrs, their mask molded like a lion. “Bet you 5 billion he jumps.”

You don’t respond. You’re already pulling off your mask.

Everything felt suffocating.

Your father, seated beside you, doesn’t look at you—but you feel his eyes shift the second your heels clack against the marble floor. “Sit down,” he says lowly, a warning veiled in affection. “This isn’t your place, sweetheart.”

You spin on him.

“This isn’t a game, Daddy. That man—he’s not some pawn. He’s the only one in that arena who deserves to live.”

He says nothing. But his fingers tighten around his glass.

Your voice wavers—but your spine doesn’t. “You said you’d give me anything. Anything I asked.”

His jaw clenches.

You press your hand to the control panel on the wall—VIP access only—and punch in the override code you made him give you months ago. His eyes widen. “Y/N—”

“I want him,” you say, turning back to the screen, voice shaking. “And I want her safe.”

On the screen, Gi-hun stands at the edge of the circle platform, wind ripping through his blood-matted hair. Behind him, Player 222—just a baby—is tucked beneath a ripped jacket. The bridge groans. The final button gleams red.

And then—

“We are not horses. We are humans. And humans are—”

“Stop the game!” you shout.

Your father slams his hand down. “CUT THE FEED!”

But it’s too late.

Alarms scream through the arena. Lights flash red. The final round is frozen mid-motion, and on the screen, Gi-hun stumbles forward in shock, blinking against the sudden sirens. Drones descend from the clouds. A black VTOL aircraft lowers above the Circle building.

Gi-hun throws himself over the baby as masked agents swarm the rooftop, expecting to be executed. But instead—

You step off the aircraft.

“Gi-hun!”

He looks up, eyes wide. The blood on his hands. The baby. The wind.

“Y/N…?”

You run to him. You don’t care about the cameras. About the rules. About the legacy of the blood money behind your name.

You wrap your arms around him and the baby, burying your face into his shoulder as the world spins around you both.

“You’re safe now,” you whisper. “You’re not going to die for a game.”

He doesn’t speak. Can’t speak.

Only clutches you harder.

The VTOL hums quietly as it cuts across the dark sky. Gi-hun sits beside you in a heated cabin, wrapped in a sterile blanket, the baby asleep against his chest.

He’s still too stunned to speak. But his hand never leaves yours.

You glance at him—his profile lit by the soft golden interior lights—and smile gently.

“I told you I’d get you out.”

He laughs—broken, hoarse, but real. “You’re insane.”

“Mm,” you nod. “I am my father’s daughter. But I’m nothing like him.”

Gi-hun’s eyes shift toward the baby, then toward you.

He looks at you like you’re the only real thing left in the world.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

You lean your head on his shoulder.

“No more games,” you whisper.

He nods.

Together, the three of you disappear into the horizon—leaving the arena, the blood, and the system that chewed him up far behind.

The world never found out what happened to Seong Gi-hun.

As far as the public was concerned, Player 456 vanished after the 2024 Squid Game finale. No victor was announced. No footage released. The VIPs who had placed their bets were paid off in hush money, and the game continued its shadowy legacy—now with tighter controls, and one less unpredictable human variable.

You had ensured that.

Because Seong Gi-hun had been extracted.

Saved.

And now he was yours to protect, just as fiercely as he’d once protected a stranger’s baby in a death game with nothing left to lose.

The Cottage in New Zealand

The house isn’t large, but it’s perfect.

Stone walls, a garden overgrown with sunflowers and tomatoes, and a wraparound porch that overlooks the ocean cliffs. Far from Seoul. Far from money. Far from blood-soaked arenas and masked devils.

Inside, the air smells like breakfast and baby powder. Warm and lived-in.

Gi-hun is standing at the stove, hair a bit longer now, cheeks a little fuller. He’s humming something under his breath—something happy—as he flips pancakes one-handed, the other arm gently cradling a sleepy-eyed baby against his chest in a carrier.

Jun-hee’s daughter. Now yours. Now his.

A picture of the woman having her own spot tucked in the corner of the kitchen. You two pray to it everyday and baby now called Hana, she will know how brave her mother was.

You peek into the kitchen, barefoot and wearing one of his hoodies. He always pretends he hates when you steal them, but the fond smile on his lips whenever you wear them says otherwise.

“You’re up early,” he says, not even turning around—he always knows when you’re there.

You wrap your arms around him from behind and rest your cheek against his back. “Hana kicked me. She’s got a strong left foot.”

“She gets it from you.” He grins.

You laugh softly and slide to his side, peeking down at the baby in the carrier. Hana is blinking up at you with sleepy, curious eyes.

“I think she’s gonna have your nose,” you murmur.

Gi-hun leans over and kisses your forehead. “She already has your stubbornness.”

The wind is soft out on the cliffside. Ga-yeong, now fifteen, is sitting with her back to the house, sketching in her notebook. She had cried for days when she first reunited with her father. You remember watching from a distance, holding Hana and sobbing quietly as the little girl he fought so hard to stay alive for collapsed into his arms.

Now she calls you “eomma” with shy affection, braids her hair to match yours, and always makes an extra plate when she cooks. You never asked her to. She just does.

You step outside with Hana in your arms, and Gi-hun follows, carrying a thermos of tea.

“We’re really doing this,” he murmurs, sitting beside you on the porch swing.

“What?”

“Living.”

You lean your head on his shoulder. “Told you I’d give you more than the games ever could.”

He turns to you, brushing your cheek gently. “You gave me everything. My daughter. A second chance. A family.”

You kiss the corner of his mouth, then let your lips linger a bit longer, until you hear Hana’s little coo. She smacks his cheek with a chubby hand. Gi-hun laughs and lifts her into the air.

“Ya! Little traitor!” he teases, snuggling her. “You’re supposed to like when eomma kisses appa.”

Hana squeals in delight.

Later That Night, with The baby asleep.Ga-yeong is on a video call with a friend from school.

And in the quiet of your shared room, Gi-hun wraps you in his arms, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

“You’re not afraid?” he asks softly. “That they’ll find us?”

You shake your head. “My father kept his end of the bargain. We’re ghosts now. This is our life.”

He looks at you like he still can’t believe it’s real. That you’re real.

Gi-hun presses a kiss to your temple, then murmurs:

“I’d die for you, you know.”

“You don’t have to anymore,” you whisper. “Now… you just have to live with me.”

His chest rises and falls. He closes his eyes. And for the first time in years, there are no nightmares waiting.

Just soft breathing.

Just love.

Just peace.

The game is over.

Forever.

[mashtatosworld]

on and off stage

summary: you're seunghyun's dance partner, but not by chance

The first time Seunghyun saw you - really saw you - you were standing at the edge of the rehearsal room, balancing a water bottle against your hip, eyes scanning the chaos as dancers and staff moved in a flurry around you.

You were new, but you didn’t have that nervous energy most fresh hires carried. You were grounded. Focused. And, in Seunghyun’s eyes, effortlessly beautiful.

The crush hit him fast and hard, and it was immediately inconvenient.

He didn’t do crushes.

Not like this.

Not the kind that made his ears heat up when you so much as adjusted your hair, or the kind that made him stutter when you asked him a perfectly normal question about stage placements. He was too old for this. Too cool, supposedly.

And yet, there he was, subtly slouching during partner assignments, hoping to hell they’d match you to his height instead of Daesung.

It worked.

He almost felt guilty about it, until you turned and gave him that polite, slightly shy smile - and all he could think was mine.

���♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

But it was awkward at first.

Not because you were difficult - far from it. You were professional and respectful, especially after the others warned you in hushed whispers that Seunghyun didn’t like to be touched.

“He’s a bit... reserved,” Taeyang had said, choosing his words carefully.

“You’ll be fine,” Daesung had reassured you. “Just don’t, like, hug him.”

So you kept your hands light, your touches fleeting, and Seunghyun was equally distant. His hands hovered rather than held. His fingers brushed instead of rested.

It was formal. Stiff. And it threatened your job.

Because the choreographers noticed.

They wanted passion. Intimacy. Chemistry. And you couldn’t exactly tell them, Sorry, my partner seems allergic to prolonged contact.

So you resolved to talk to him. To clear the air.

But fate - and the boys’ relentless prank war - had other plans.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You’d been heading toward Seunghyun’s dressing room when, the moment you opened the door, you were hit square in the face with a spray of cold water.

For a second, you stood frozen, droplets running down your cheeks, hair sticking to your forehead, and all you could hear was Seunghyun’s horrified gasp.

“Oh fuck.” His voice was low with panic, the water gun slipping from his fingers. “I'm sorry... I- I thought you were Jiyong! I swear!”

You wiped your face with your sleeve, sputtering out a laugh before you could stop yourself. Seunghyun blinked, stunned, watching your shoulders shake with amusement.

“I suppose Jiyong is pretty enough to take that as a compliment,” you teased, eyes bright despite the water still dripping from your chin.

The relief that flooded his expression was immediate - and then, unexpectedly, he laughed too. Deep, warm, real laughter that curled in his chest and filled the room.

"Mm, but I definitely think you have him beat," he admitted, passing you a towel.

The air between you shifted, tension dissolving in the echo of your shared laughter.

After that, everything was easier.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You started teasing him during rehearsals, lighthearted jabs about his “terrible aim” and “intimidating water combat skills.” He gave as good as he got, poking fun at your tendency to count steps under your breath and how you scrunched your nose when you were concentrating too hard.

But beyond the jokes, you also noticed something else - how careful he was with you.

How respectful.

How he never held you longer than necessary, and how his touch always felt like it was asking permission, even in the middle of choreography.

“You know,” you said one afternoon, after the room had cleared, “it’s okay to touch me. During the dance, I mean.”

Seunghyun’s gaze snapped to yours, his ears tinged pink. “I- I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You wouldn’t,” you assured him, your smile soft. “I trust you.”

The words hit him harder than they should have, sinking into his chest like something precious.

And from then on, everything changed.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The closeness came more naturally. His hand settled more firmly at your waist, guiding rather than hovering. When you leaned into him during spins, his arm held you just a little longer, his touch steady.

The choreography started to feel less like work and more like a conversation - one spoken in quiet glances, soft smiles, and fingertips against skin.

The choreographer noticed, too. “Finally,” they said with relief after one particularly fluid run-through. “Now you two look like you want each other.”

Seunghyun nearly tripped over his own feet.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You'd performed together enough times that everything should’ve gone smoothly. But somehow, thanks to a typo or crossed wire, you were reassigned - to Daesung.

You were halfway across the stage, heading toward your new partner, when a firm hand caught your wrist.

Seunghyun.

He didn’t say a word. Just held your wrist, his grip strong and sure, and pulled you gently back toward him as the first chorus of Bae Bae begun.

The movement was seamless - almost like part of the act - and the other dancer quickly pivoted, falling into place with Daesung instead.

But the moment wasn’t lost on the crowd.

The fans saw the hesitation, the instinctive way Seunghyun reached for you - and they saw the way his hand settled possessively at your waist, fingers curving into the silk of your costume.

They screamed.

And they kept screaming as Seunghyun, emboldened by adrenaline and something even deeper, danced with you like never before.

When his solo verse arrived, instead of stepping away to the centre of the stage, he stayed close - circling you, rapping with that low, magnetic growl while his fingertips skimmed the bare skin at your hip. It wasn’t choreographed. It wasn’t planned.

But it felt right.

You could barely breathe, heart slamming against your ribs, skin burning beneath his touch. By the time the song ended, you were dizzy - whether from exertion or the way Seunghyun was still looking at you, you couldn’t tell.

And one you were backstage the teasing started immediately.

“Ohhh, so that’s how it is,” Daesung smirked, arms crossed. "I wondered why I was dancing alone for the first part."

“Our hyung was really feeling the song,” Jiyong added with a grin.

“Look at him!” Taeyang pointed dramatically. “He’s blushing more than she is.”

Seunghyun tried to deflect, but his flaming ears gave him away instantly.

You were too stunned to speak - but when Seunghyun finally caught your eye, the small, shy smile tugging at his mouth was the only thing you cared about.

The teasing could wait.

Because if tonight had proved anything, it was that you were his partner.

On and off the stage.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

the woman was too stunned to speak 🧍‍♀️

as requested! sorry it's taken me so long, writing for GD comes more naturally but Top has a special place in my heart <3

i actually already had plans to do this concept with GD but i saw this request and thought it was too good not to at least do for seunghyun as well as GD hehehehe

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure

[kingdomhate]

Finding Out You're Pregnant Scenarios!

Anakin Skywalker: You both knew something was wrong when you would wake up at the crack of dawn, vomiting out the contents of last night's dinner, and when you would have mood swings like crazy. At first, you thought it was just a really gnarly stomach bug, but after your period had not come at all, you decided to get a pregnancy test.

You had already known the answer, as it was the most logical reasoning after you missed your period, but just to be sure, you took the test, waited and once the results came back positive, you were elated, in shock, and a little nervous. You didn't know how to tell him, and how you guys could manage take care of a baby what with him being a Jedi and constantly risking his life to protect the galaxy.

Nevertheless, the challenge was one you would accept for the sake of being able to bring in another life, one that you would no doubt love with all your being, and Anakin would as well.

"My love, have you thrown up any today? Fever? Have you eaten?" Anakin bombarded you with questions, concerned and on edge as he always was when you were under the weather. You shook your head, you hadn't thrown up yet and hadn't run a fever, but you had managed to eat earlier. "I ate earlier, Ani." You say softly, as he hugged you to his warm chest, his hands caressing your skin with ghost-like gentleness. "Ani, I.. I have something to tell you." You whisper against his chest, almost inaudible. "What is it, angel?"

His eyebrows furrow, and you can see his eyes harden a bit, protectively. He always assumed the worst.. "I'm.." You pause, taking a deep, long breath. Anakin's expressions grows more tense. "I'm pregnant. That's what the sickness was." You gaze into his deep blue eyes, trying to gauge his reaction as he became motionless after you spoke, no doubt processing or in shock. You searched for fear, hesitation, apprehension, anything, and as he blinked away the last remnants of his dumbfoundedness, he beams, the corners of his lips turning up into a wide grin. He was overjoyed.

Immediately, he kissed you deeply and passionately. When you both broke away, a bit breathless, he leaned to whisper in your ear. "That's awesome, sweetness. I'll be sure to give you and this child everything I have." He promised, kissing your ear and then your lips again. Safe to say, he did everything for you, not wanting you to overexert yourself, or the baby, whatsoever.

Luke Skywalker: Poor Luke, like his father, had thought you had caught something and couldn't stop himself from feeling worried as what started with complaints of not feeling well turned into morning vomiting, and times where he would run to the bathroom, after hearing your moans and groans of pain, to find you sitting by the toilet, curled into a ball.

He felt awful that there was nothing he could do, nothing that could soothe you from feeling horrible. Pretty quickly, you suspected it was pregnancy, and to confirm your suspicions, took a test. You stood in the bathroom, clutching your stomach as you waited for the results. As they came back positive, you were glad it was pregnancy and not something you had caught. Pregnancy with something both you and Luke wanted, talked about and tried a lot for, so of course he was simply overjoyed when you had told him the news. "Luke." You said, cuddled up to him in your guys' cozy, warm bed as he played with your hair and you absentmindedly stroked his skin, a gesture that soothed both of you. "Mm?" He said sleepily, clearly on the verge of dozing off.

"Get up for a second, baby," You tell him and reluctantly, he moves. You move to your side, grab something he couldn't see from the dresser and hold it behind your back. "I have a surprise for you." Luke's eyebrows furrow, confused and curious. When you pull out what you had been hiding, he stares at it blankly and then cries, pulling you into the longest and tightest hug you've ever experienced. It was a baby onesie that Aunt Beru had helped and taught you to knit. "Oh, Y\N! Y\N!" He sniffles, nuzzling into your chest as he hugs you tightly to himself. You chuckle, and hug him back, stroking his sandy locks as you smile to yourself, tears forming in your own eyes. "I know, I know..." You say softly, sniffling as well.

He pulls himself up, and you both gaze into each others eyes. You can practically feel the undeniable joy that is rushing through his veins, and he can feel yours. You both hug each other tightly again and kiss. You had both daydreamed of this day for God knows how long, and for it to actually happen feels like one of the most exuberant, emotional, surreal and awe-inspiring moments of your entire life.

Obi-Wan Kenobi: Immediately, the two of you knew exactly what it was. Obi-Wan had known and seen the early signs of pregnancy many times before in the homes of galactic families he had visited and protected countless times for the Jedi Order, and you had familiarized yourself with it from reading books and talking to ladies with children.

Obi-Wan hadn't any words to describe how purely incredible the moment was, and what exactly on gone through his head as it was something that stunned him for a few moments, something that you both knew you wanted but couldn't expect happening. Of course the first thing he does is kiss you until the both of your lungs scream for air, and he whispers how much he's longed for this child, and thought of having a happy, sweet family with you, the love of his life.

"I will devote myself to giving you and our child what they deserve and everything your hearts desire. You absolutely deserve the galaxy, Y\N." He says the following night, a sincere promise deep in his eyes as he caresses your cheek and holds you close. "Obi, what more can I possibly want but just you and this child? I'm sure this child will be the light of our lives, and as long as we can remain happy together, than the galaxy means nothing." You say in return, kissing him deeply, pouring your emotions like liquid into that kiss, for him to feel as well as hear. Never wishing for anything more than happiness and love for the both of you, this child and the ones to come after if you both decide it.

[augmerin]

hsr men and their love !

— or how they show their love towards you + the little moments you have with them | including. . .aventurine, dr ratio, jing yuan, dan heng

content warning: nothing, all fluff!

word count: 1.9k

AVENTURINE WHO. . .

yes, will shower you with lavish gifts and makes sure that only the finest of silks adorns your body because you deserve only the best of everything. it makes his heart swell with fondness each time his eyes catches sight of you covered in his love, that being the items he procured without much effort yet still remained thoughtful all the same.

but aventurine also loves the downtime that comes after the end of a mission, when he stumbles through the doorway of both yours and his home in the middle of the night, searching for your familiar presence. and when he opens the bedroom door, his gaze falling on you in the middle of it all, he welcomes the sight of you sleeping in between the sheets of his blanket, figure curling around his soft pillow you claimed will help you sleep well when he's not around.

the smallest of smiles graced his lips and for the first time since his mission started, his body was able to relax, his shoulders sagging down with the weight of his tiredness as the tension leaves. walking over to you, he gently positions himself on the side of the bed, eyes never once straying away from your form. his hand reaches out to lightly cup your cheek before he presses a light kiss to your forehead.

"mm...aven?"

the feather touch made you stir from your sleep, despite aventurine trying his best to not wake you up. a quiet chuckle left his lips at your (very adorable, might he add) display, not able to hold back from giving you another kiss to your cheek.

"yes, my love. i'm back. shall we rest together now?"

DR. RATIO WHO. . .

tends to express his love for you in a rather roundabout manner. somehow, his upfront attitude that most are familiar with disappears when it comes to any little thing that concerns you.

it was glaringly obvious, you think, with the way he lends his assistance whenever you struggle with your work under the guise of it being 'unpleasant to see a capable scholar floundering about, no less his own partner'. it might sound a bit harsh to others, but you knew of his affection, with the way his features would always soften whenever he spoke those words to you. besides, him offering to aid you is already enough of an indication of his endearment.

though sometimes, there are moments where he would instead let his actions speak for him his thoughts.

the grandfather clock's ticking resounded within ratio's office, the two of you bathing in each other's company as you worked on your own set of papers while he busies himself with another thesis of his. this isn't a rare sight; rather, it was a routine that you kept up with him, often ending the day by each other's side while trying to finish the remaining tasks.

it was during these times that ratio lets his gaze travel to you, who usually remained absorbed in your work. it was no different this time, his eyes catching sight of you being deeply concentrated in solving the particular problem you were stuck on.

ratio rarely gets distracted from his tasks, but as you sit there across from him, he could only let his mind run rampant with thoughts of you and only you. of how endearing it is to see you frown in frustration, lips raw from how many times you bit it as you struggle to solve the damn problem.

observing how the stack of papers on your side of the desk still remained tall, ratio sets aside his finished papers before silently taking half of your paper stack, which didn't go unnoticed by you.

"what are you doing?" you rose a brow, seeing how he had already started to scribble along the surface of your papers.

"what do you think i'm doing?" he replied without missing a beat, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

the sight of your confused expression nearly made him chuckle but he held it back, not wanting to let his thoughts show.

"well..." you drawled out, a small smile building itself on your lips when you catch on what he's doing. "i think you're helping me. isn't that right, dr ratio?"

the use of his formal title made him huff slightly, preferring you to call him only by his name. yet as his eyes flitted over to you, seeing your fond gaze as you leaned back against the chair, ratio could only return your teasing words with his own.

"seeing as to how you're struggling to complete your tasks, it seems that you need a helping hand lest you remain here all night long," he refuted, lips quirking up. "though i would not mind doing so with you."

JING YUAN WHO. . .

lives for the idle touches and fleeting gazes whenever you pass him by during work hours. known for his lackadaisical nature when it comes to his duties as a general, there was also another part of him that is often talked about; that is his utter admiration for you. hence the moment those conversing with him for official duties notice you walk into the room, they have already prepared themselves for what is to come next.

"yes, general. from the patrol guards' inspection, it was deduced that..."

the guard's voice trailed off in the middle of his daily report to jing yuan when he noticed you entering the general's personal office, gathering both his and jing yuan's attention. almost instantly, he can see jing yuan's slumped figure straighten, eyes brighter than a moment ago when he was listening to him recalling the day's events. knowing there is nothing that can pull away the general's focus once it settled on you, the guard gave him his goodbyes and left promptly at jing yuan's dismissive nod.

you rose a brow at the exchange, not able to even voice out your questions about it when his hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you close to his side of the table. lifting your palm close to his face, jing yuan begins to pepper light kisses all over the skin, reveling in your warmth.

"what's this about? so clingy," you teased, though such clinginess was not out of the ordinary.

you knew that if he could, he would stick by your side throughout the entire day.

"is it wrong for me to shower my lovely partner with affection?" his lips quirked up at the sound of your voice, head tilting back to look at your face.

"of course not," you returned his grin with one of your own, now tugging on his hand instead. "well, i was wondering if my lovely partner would want to relax with me in the garden today? it's nearing lunch time anyways."

"anything you desire, my dear."

as much as he loves to spend his free time (or official hours) laying around under the tree's shade, letting the sun shine down on his face, nothing beats the comfort that embraces his entire being when his head is on your lap and he's basking in your warmth instead.

DAN HENG WHO. . .

adores you silently, quietly, with small actions and soft touches; making your coffee in the mornings just the way you like it, covering you with his comfort blanket each time you fall asleep when digging through the archives with him, offering his aid when you're swamped with too many work on the astral express.

for those without a keen eye, perhaps he may come off as a passionless lover, but when you look closely, you notice the way his eyes light up the moment he catches you across the room, and the delicate hold he has on your hand as you walk through the crowded streets. and with every little thing that he does with love behind them, you can only take them with an open heart and a fond smile, knowing that they were only for you to understand and know.

but there are times when his love for you grabs him by the chokehold, and all he could do was profess his affection for you in the most random of manner.

it was silent aboard the astral express, march and the rest of the members currently sleeping in their own rooms. you however, was not in your own room.

curled up beside dan heng, in your hands was a thick book filled with various kinds of information relevant to your upcoming mission to a new planet. the pages were the thickest you had ever seen, and you were barely halfway through the content when your eyes started to droop heavily with sleep.

"you should go ahead and rest," dan heng's voice woke you up from the nth time you had dozed off, and immediately you shook your head, trying to will away the tiredness.

"nooo, i still have a lot to go through," your words almost sounded like a whine with how you drawled them out, hands rubbing your eyes.

"there's still enough time for you to finish it. your mission is in the next few days right?"

"yeah, but i doubt that i can finish this much in a short amount of time," you pushed the book into his sight, and he could only chuckle at your actions.

"it's fine. you'll finish it," dan heng sighed softly, flicking your forehead gently. "so stop being stubborn and just sleep. i can already see the dark circles forming under your pretty eyes."

ignoring how his sudden compliment made your cheeks burn, you took his advice and closed the book, setting it to the corner before snuggling into dan heng's side, sighing at the warmth.

it was funny how light his heart felt at the sight, the endearment almost consuming him whole. if this is what it feels like to love another, to the point that he was able to suffocate within it, then dan heng thought that perhaps he would willingly die loving you. the idea of it was overwhelming and taken in by the way your figure wrapped around him so comfortably, his lips moved on their own.

"i love you."

the atmosphere stills with his sudden confession, the words hanging in the air. your head had whipped up to look at him, confusion swirling in your eyes before quiet giggles left you when you notice the perplexed expression on his face.

"why do you look so confused?" your voice shook with amusement, loving the way his gaze avert yours, cheeks flushing a deep red. "you've said it many times before, didn't you?"

"of course," dan heng coughed, trying to will away the slight embarassment he feels at suddenly proclaiming his love.

it wasn't that he hate it, that is the act of speaking such words to you. it was the thought of being vulnerable, an unfamiliar action for him who has had to steel his heart and harden his resolve with the life he had lived so far. to speak of his love as easily as he did loving you, it was difficult; which is why he would rather shower you in it, with all the things that he does.

but then he looks at you now, eyes glinting in the light with lips curled up into that pretty smile he loves seeing from just his words and he thinks that perhaps it isn't so hard for him to profess his love to you every now and again as he did moments ago.

"...you still haven't say it back."

"yes, yes. i love you too."

a/n: i think i got carried away with ratio and dan heng...also! might make a part two of this with other characters

[galaxy-stardust]

Simon Ghost Riley x you

He takes you on a trip...

The moment you stepped out of the vehicle and into the dense forest, you already knew this was going to be a disaster. The damp earth, the looming trees, the distant sounds of God-knows-what skittering through the underbrush—it all set your nerves on edge.

You crossed your arms, glaring at Simon, who stood beside you, looking completely at ease. His gear was strapped perfectly, his stance relaxed. This was his world. Not yours.

"Tell me again," you grumbled, "why am I here?"

"Team bonding, love," Simon said smoothly, adjusting his backpack. His mask was pulled up just enough for you to see the smirk playing on his lips. "Figured you'd enjoy a little adventure."

"Simon, I hate camping," you reminded him, swatting at a mosquito that dared to get close. "And I hate everything that lives out here. The second I see a spider, I'm done."

He chuckled, clearly entertained by your misery. "Oh, you're adorable when you're grumpy."

You shot him a glare, but it only made his smirk widen. He handed you a small backpack. "C'mon, we’ve got ground to cover before nightfall."

You groaned but followed him, reluctantly weaving through the trees. Every snapped twig made you flinch, every shadow between the trees made your mind conjure up the worst possibilities. Simon, on the other hand, was completely in his element.

After what felt like forever, you finally reached the so-called "campsite"—which, to your horror, was just an empty clearing with no actual shelter.

"Where’s the cabin?" you asked, dread pooling in your stomach.

Simon arched a brow. "Cabin?"

"Yes, cabin. Y'know, four walls, a roof, a door to keep nature outside?"

He shook his head, amused. "You really think I’d bring you all the way out here for that?"

You threw your hands up. "I thought 'survival training' meant, like... learning cool skills. Not suffering in the wilderness overnight!"

Simon laughed, setting down his bag and beginning to set up camp. "This is learning cool skills. And suffering builds character."

You huffed and plopped down onto a nearby log, arms crossed.

"Aw, don’t pout," he teased, coming up behind you. His hands rested on your shoulders, thumbs kneading the tense muscles there. "You’ll be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you."

You wanted to be mad, but damn it, he was warm, solid, and now his lips were brushing the side of your neck.

"That won’t work on me," you muttered, but you didn’t push him away.

"No?" His voice dropped, rough and teasing. "Not even if I do this?"

He nipped at your earlobe, hands slowly sliding down your arms, his breath hot against your skin. Your body betrayed you, a small shiver running down your spine.

You sighed. "You're so annoying."

"But you love it," he murmured, pressing a kiss just beneath your jaw.

Your frustration at the whole situation was starting to melt, replaced by a different kind of heat. You turned in his arms, meeting his gaze—dark, knowing, and full of mischief.

"You’re gonna have to make this trip very worth it, Riley," you murmured, gripping the front of his vest and pulling him closer.

He chuckled, his lips hovering just above yours. "Oh, love, you have no idea."

Simon’s lips brushed against yours, teasing, barely touching, making you chase after him. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing—dangling relief in front of you just to pull away at the last second.

“You’re still mad at me?” he murmured, voice low, rumbling in his chest.

You narrowed your eyes. “Furious.”

“Mm.” His hands slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him. “That’s a shame… Thought you’d be grateful I brought you out here. Just you, me, and all this privacy.”

You huffed, your fingers gripping the straps of his tactical vest. “Privacy for what, exactly? Freezing our asses off in the dirt?”

Simon chuckled, that deep, gravelly sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Well, I was thinking something a little warmer.” His hands slipped lower, fingertips grazing the curve of your hips. “Something to keep your mind off all the creepy crawlies you hate so much.”

Your pulse quickened. Even with the cool evening air settling in, his body was hot against yours, solid, unmovable. He had that look in his eyes—the one that told you he was enjoying every second of this game.

You licked your lips, eyes flicking to his. “And what exactly do you have in mind?”

Simon smirked. In a swift motion, he hooked an arm under your thighs and lifted you effortlessly, making you squeak in surprise.

“Simon!”

“What?” he said, feigning innocence as he carried you toward the tent he’d just set up. “Can’t have my girl sitting out in the cold, can I?”

He stepped inside, setting you down onto the sleeping bag with an ease that had no right to be that attractive. The tent was just big enough for the two of you, the space close, intimate.

You looked up at him, your breath catching as he shrugged off his vest and unzipped his jacket, revealing the black shirt underneath that clung to his broad chest. His mask was still in place, but his eyes - dark, hungry - never left yours.

Then, slowly, he knelt between your legs.

Your heart pounded. “You’re really trying to make me forget how much I hate camping, aren’t you?”

Simon smirked. “That depends.” His hands slid up your thighs, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. “Is it working?”

You swallowed hard, heat pooling low in your belly.

“…Maybe.”

His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he leaned in, his mouth hovering over yours, teasing you once more.

“Good,” he murmured, voice rough. “Because I plan on keeping you very occupied all night, love.”

The night had been hot in more ways than one, and despite your initial hatred for camping, Simon had done a damn good job making you forget where you were. His touch, his voice, the way he took his time breaking you down under him - all of it had left you breathless, tangled in each other until exhaustion finally claimed you both.

Now, as morning broke, the tent was bathed in soft, golden light. You stirred first, the crisp morning air slipping through the small opening in the tent, cooling your overheated skin. Simon was still asleep beside you, an arm draped possessively over your waist, his body warm against yours.

Careful not to wake him, you slipped out of the tent, stretching as you took in the view.

And damn, it was beautiful.

The sun was just beginning to rise over the treetops, casting the sky in brilliant shades of orange, pink, and gold. Mist curled along the forest floor, and for the first time since arriving, you actually felt a sense of peace. Maybe - maybe - this whole survival trip wasn’t the worst idea after all.

With a satisfied sigh, you grabbed the small camping stove Simon had packed and started making coffee, the rich scent filling the crisp air. You wrapped your hands around the warm mug, enjoying the view, letting yourself bask in the peaceful aftermath of last night.

And then.

Something moved.

You felt it before you saw it - a slight rustling near your feet. A shadow skittering at the edge of your vision.

You froze.

Slowly, your eyes flicked downward.

There, just inches from your bare feet, was an enormous, hairy-legged spawn of Satan itself - a spider the size of your goddamn palm.

You screamed.

The coffee mug hit the ground with a thud as you launched yourself backward, scrambling toward the tent. “*SIMON!*”

A second later, the tent flap whipped open, and a very bare Simon burst out, looking every bit like a man ready to murder someone. His knife was already in his hand, his sleep-roughened voice sharp. “What?! What is it?!”

You pointed frantically at the eight-legged demon scuttling across the dirt. “*THAT!*”

Simon blinked. Then he looked at you. Then back at the spider.

And the bastard laughed.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He ran a hand down his face, sighing before moving toward the spider with absolutely no urgency. With a swift flick, he nudged it away with the tip of his boot, sending it skittering back into the woods. “Drama queen.”

Your heart was still pounding. “That thing wanted me dead, Simon.”

He smirked, stepping closer, his bare chest distracting you from your fury. “Nah, think it just wanted your coffee.”

You shoved at him weakly, still shaken. “Not funny.”

Simon only chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. He was warm, solid, and far too smug for your liking. “Thought I wore you out too much to be screaming first thing in the morning.” His lips brushed your ear, teasing. “Nice to know you’ve still got energy, love.”

You huffed but melted into his hold anyway, burying your face in his chest. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Now, c’mon. Let’s get you another coffee before you start crying over bugs again.”

You sighed, letting him guide you back to the fire, already regretting every life decision that led you to this moment.

Camping was officially back on your shit list.

But, damn it… he made it worth it.

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ get you home ] m. rempe

pairing : Matt Rempe x fem!reader

summary : Matt makes sure his best friend gets home safe after going out with him and a few of the Rangers after a win, but his plans change when she tells him how she feels about him

warning(s) : alcohol use and drunkenness, a heavy makeout, some suggestive comments

author’s note : got drunk so i started to write a fic and finished it while sober lol :))

༺═──────────────═༻

One of the things she loves about going out with Matt is the fact that he deters every guy from approaching her. Everyone views him as this scary guy because he’s a six-foot-seven hockey player but in reality, he’s probably the sweetest guy she’s ever met.

It works to her advantage though since she only ever wants to talk to him when she goes out with him.

Tonight in particular, she wants to stay glued to his side. He scored a goal in his playoff debut and all she wants to do is celebrate. She doesn’t want her attention to be pulled away from Matt.

The Rangers found a booth in a dark corner of the club they came to after game one against Washington and started buying drinks and shots for Matt after his goal that started this season’s playoff run.

She took so many shots with Matt when they first got to the club and kind of regrets it. She wanted to at least be coherent and remember her words when she tells Matt that she’s in love with him.

Tonight might not be the night to tell him though. She doesn't want him to think she's telling him because she's drunk or because he scored a goal.

Plus, she wants to be able to remember telling him and she isn't sure that's possible right now because of the amount of drinks and shots she's had. Tonight shouldn't be the night she tells her best friend that she's in love with him.

Once Trouba decides to leave, a bunch of the Rangers decide to follow him out the door. Once the captain leaves, that usually means whatever is going on is officially over. A lot of the older guys leave, but most of the younger guys like Matt and Braden stay for a little bit longer.

There are about three more rounds of shots before everyone else calls it a night. She stumbles out of the club holding onto Matt's arm so she doesn't fall on the sidewalk in her heels. She leans against his chest while he orders them an Uber to her apartment.

"Mm," she hums. "Comfy wall."

Matt laughs and wraps an arm around her shoulders to keep her stable. "You're so drunk," he comments. "How much have you had to drink?"

"A little less than you," she replies. "I think. How are you not stumbling after everything you've had today?"

He tucks his phone into the pocket of the pants he's wearing. "I'm a foot taller than you and over a hundred pounds heavier than you," he laughs. "Not to mention I have a faster metabolism and can handle my liquor. It's not my fault you're so short."

She looks up at him. "Hey, five-foot-six is not short," she retorts. "You're just freaking tall ." Matt laughs. "Out here having fucking trees for legs like God damn, Matt."

A car pulls up in front of them and Matt helps her get in the car. "Me and my tree legs are trying to get you home safely," he tells her. "You better be nice to me or I'm gonna leave you to get to your apartment by yourself."

"You'd never do that to me," she giggles. "You like me too much."

Matt slides into the car next to her and she immediately moves as close as she can to him. She rests her head on his shoulder before she shuts her eyes. Being drunk and being in a car is not the best combination. She'll gladly use Matt's shoulder as a pillow until they get to her apartment building. They're a good fifteen minutes away so she has time.

The Uber driver realizes who got into the backseat of his car so he and Matt talk about the game. The driver mentions Matt's goal and says what an amazing goal it was. She doesn't say anything but she agrees a thousand percent.

His goal was a beauty. It's something that he'll never forget for sure. She'll never forget celebrating it when it happened. Hearing his name announced during the next play will be something she'll remember hearing forever.

She listens to the conversation and smiles while they talk about the game. She doesn't chime in because she's afraid to open her eyes. The last thing she wants to do is throw up in an Uber.

About fifteen minutes later, the Uber pulls up to her apartment. The driver wishes Matt luck during the rest of the playoffs as he helps her out of the car. She thanks him as Matt shuts the door. Matt wraps an arm around her and helps her into the building.

As she walks through the lobby, she stumbles and loses her balance. With a groan, she slides out of Matt's grip and lands on the floor to pull off he heeled boots that she's wearing. "Stupid shoes," she says to herself. Matt laughs and holds a hand out to help her up when she is ready to stand back up.

"Why did you even wear heels to the game?" he asks as he pulls her up from the ground. "I mean, it's a hockey game."

"I wanted to look nice and dress up the jersey," she replies. Matt lent her his Stadium Series jersey. She might have to wear it for every game now since he scored a goal while she was wearing it. "Sorry I wanted to look nice. Good thing too since we went out afterwards."

It's easier for her to walk now that her feet are flat on the ground. She carries the shoes onto the elevator, where she leans against the wall for support.

"Are you still super drunk?" Matt asks. "I'm asking because I need to know if you'll be okay if I leave."

"We'll see," she mumbles as she drops her head to her left to look at him. "Can you stay anyway? Just in case?"

He nods and smiles as the elevator dings and the doors open.

She stumbles down the hallway to her apartment, dropping one of the shoes in the process. Matt picks it up and she uses her key to unlock the door. Somehow, she gets the door open, but she stumbles inside. Matt quickly wraps an arm around her waist before she can go crashing down to the floor.

The door closes behind them and she looks up at him. "Thanks," she says.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna stay," he comments. "You just fell into your apartment." She giggles and stands back up. Matt wraps an arm around her shoulders. "Come on. Do you want to shower or anything before you go to bed? Want a snack? You're going to drink at least one glass of water before going to bed."

She looks up at him and says, "I should probably shower since I got a drink spilled on my pants." That was Cuylle's fault and she wasn't very happy that she smelled like beer for the rest of the time they were at the club.

"I'll get him to apologize for that tomorrow when he's sober," Matt tells her. "For now though, bath or shower? Think you can shower?"

"I think I can shower," she replies. "A cold one might sober me up a bit. Some of the clothes that you've left here are all in a drawer if you want to pull something together, or I can give you this jersey since it's technically yours."

Matt smiles and shakes his head. "That jersey is yours now," he says. "I'll find something. Go shower the beer smell away."

She sticks her tongue out at him and stumbles her way to her room. She pulls out a large t-shirt and a pair of slightly too small Lululemon shorts to sleep in before walking into the bathroom for her shower.

The water is ice cold in hopes that it sobers her up enough for the conversation that's going to happen after her shower. She wants to make sure she remembers the entire conversation and whatever she says to Matt. She wants to remember his reaction and what he tells her when she tells him about her feelings.

It's going to go really well or really bad. She has no idea how it's going to go. He may just tell her that it's bad timing since the playoffs just started, or he'll fully embrace it. Maybe he'll tell her that he feels the same.

The unknown is what scares her.

After a short and sweet shower where she only washes her hair and body, she hops out and dries off. She shivers from how cold it was and dresses quickly.

When she walks out of the bathroom with her wet hair French braided down her back, she finds Matt laying on his back on her bed on his phone. He's typing away, probably replying to people that he didn't get to yet about his goal or the win. He's wearing a pair of sweatpants and one of his Rangers hockey shirts that he found in the drawer.

Matt notices her standing in the doorway between the bedroom and her bathroom. "There's a glass of water on your table," he tells her. "I left some Advil for you too for the morning."

Just rip off the bandaid. It's time to get this over with.

"I have something I want to say first in case it chases you off," she tells him. "I don't know what your reaction is going to be when I say this but ... I love you."

"I love you too."

"No, Matt," she sighs. "I'm in love with you. I have been for months, maybe close to a year at this point. I know my timing isn't the best but I couldn't not tell you anymore. I'm not saying this because you scored a goal or because you won a playoff game or because I'm still slightly drunk but I am genuinely in love with you."

He stares at her while she talks, but as soon as she's done saying what she has to say, Matt gets up out of bed and walks up to her. "I knew what you meant," he comments. "I've been waiting for you to say something to me before I did this."

"Do wha-"

Before she can finish her question, Matt gently cups her jaw and leans down to press a light kiss to her lips. It's so light that she feels like he's just testing the waters.

It barely feels like a kiss when he pulls back.

She takes a step closer to him and looks up at him. "Can you please kiss me like you mean it?" she questions.

"Gladly."

He crashes their lips together in a more definitive kiss that makes her heart beat out of her chest. She presses herself against him and fists his t-shirt in her hand to hold him close to her. Matt's thumbs trace her cheekbones and she sighs. He takes full advantage and licks past her parted lips.

She presses her hands against his torso and pushes him toward the bed. She has to tilt her head up to kiss him and it's starting to hurt her neck. So she pushes him down until he falls back and is sitting on the mattress. She crawls onto his lap so they're at a more even level.

This isn't the reaction that she was expecting. Maybe Matt saying that he loves her too or some cuddles. She thought that kisses would wait until morning when they're both completely sober.

That being said, this is what she thought their first kiss would look like. Rough, needy. She kisses him like she craves him, and he kisses her back like he's been holding back. She's seen Matt kiss former girlfriends before and studied the way his lips move, but experiencing it is something completely different.

Her heart is in her stomach and her body shakes with anticipation. She truly cannot believe that this is happening right now.

She slides her hands down his chest and stomach then slithers her fingers up under his shirt. Matt hums and pulls back from the needy kiss. “Clothes are staying on until we’re both sober,” he tells her. She nods but is very distracted by how red and swollen his lips are.

All because of her.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t touch,” she replies. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

Matt sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and looks her up and down in his lap. She reaches up with one of her hands and touches one of the scars on his cheek. He turns his head and presses a kiss to her wrist.

He trails kisses up her forearm and she smiles as he pulls her flush against his chest. She wraps her arms around his neck and Matt flips them so he’s pinning her down against the mattress.

She smiles and looks up at him. “You do know that I love you too, right?” Matt asks. “I mean, I knew what you meant when you told me that you love me. The timing couldn’t have been any better because I thought I was going to genuinely lose my mind if I held back from you any longer.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Matt replies. “I love you. I think I’ve loved you for literally ever. I probably realized it in February when you were in the crowd for my NHL debut. Seeing you in that jersey tonight, oh my God. I thought I was going to actually lose it at the club.”

She smiles and grabs the bottom of his shirt. She fists the fabric and holds him close. “You could’ve made a move whenever you wanted and I probably would’ve been okay with it,” she admits. “I hated seeing you with random girls or old girlfriends. They never wanted you like I do.”

“I know,” he says. “I think I see that now. I’ve had a few girlfriends, but none of them have stuck around like you have.”

“By your side always,” she promises.

Matt leans down and kisses her again. The kiss almost feels like her sealing the promise.

Because she’ll never leave his side. Ever.

༺═──────────────═༻

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[chroniclesofskz]

31 days apart

"I can't believe you forgot the milk again!" Y/N yelled at the empty fridge, her voice echoing through the quiet apartment. It was one of those days where everything felt off, like the universe was conspiring to annoy her. She slammed the fridge door shut and tossed the empty cereal box into the trash, resigning herself to a sad breakfast of black coffee and dry toast.

Her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter, and she checked the screen, hopeful for a text from Chan. But it was just another work email. She missed him more than she cared to admit. Their relationship had been a rollercoaster of passion and companionship, but this was the first time he'd been away for so long. Thirty-one days, to be exact. Thirty-one days since she'd felt the warmth of his body next to hers, the gentle touch of his hand, or the way he'd make her toes curl with his magical mouth.

"Maybe I should get a dog," she mused aloud. "At least it'd be around to keep me company."

As the day dragged on, Y/N found herself counting down the hours until she could call Chan. They had a standing "good night" call, but tonight she needed more. The ache in her chest was palpable, and she couldn't ignore the wetness pooling between her legs. She decided to break protocol and dial his number a few hours early.

The phone rang once, twice, and she was about to hang up when she heard a sleepy, "Hello?"

"Baba, did I wake you?" she asked, her voice thick with need.

There was a pause, and then a groan. "No, baby, I was just… lost in thought."

Y/N felt a thrill run through her body at the sound of his voice. "What were you thinking about?"

He took a deep breath, and she could almost feel him smiling through the phone. "You know what, Y/N. Your sweet little voice is all I need."

The conversation grew more intimate as they talked, the distance between them shrinking with every shared secret and whispered confession. Y/N's hand slid under her shirt, her nipples pebbling at the thought of his rough hands on her skin.

"I miss feeling you inside me," she murmured, the heat growing in her core.

There was a rustling of fabric, and then a click. "Keep talking, baby," he breathed, and she knew he was touching himself, thinking about her too.

Y/N leaned back against the kitchen counter, her hand moving down to her jeans. She unzipped them and slid her fingers under the fabric, stroking the slickness that had gathered there. "I miss the way your fans scream for you," she teased, her voice dropping to a whisper. "They all want a piece of you, but only I get to hear you sing to me, only I get to feel you deep inside."

"Mm," he groaned. "You know I'd rather be back home, fucking you in every way possible than being on this stage."

"I know," she assured him, her eyes closing as she pictured him up there, under the hot lights, singing his heart out. But she also knew that his career was his life, his passion. He was the lead singer of a wildly popular K-pop group, and this tour was his dream come true. She'd always been supportive of his ambitions, even if it meant being apart.

"Tell me more," he urged, his voice growing more strained. "What do you miss about me?"

The words spilled out of her, a mix of love and lust. "I miss your smile when you wake up in the morning, the way you smell after a show, like sweat and cologne and something uniquely you. I miss the way your cock feels, thick and hard, filling me up."

The line grew quiet for a moment, and she could hear his ragged breathing. Then, his voice was in her ear, low and urgent. "Tell me, Y/N, tell me how much you want it."

"So much," she whimpered, her hand moving faster. "I need you so badly."

He groaned, and she knew he was getting closer. "Keep going, baby," he encouraged, his voice tight with restraint. "I'm right there with you."

And just like that, they were connected again, despite the thousands of miles that separated them. The sound of his voice, the thought of his body, was enough to push her over the edge. Her orgasm crashed through her, making her tremble and cry out his name.

"I'm coming," he grunted, his voice a mix of pleasure and pain. "I love you, Y/N."

They both panted into the phone, the intimate moment hanging in the air like a secret shared in a crowded room. After a few moments, she giggled, feeling a little silly for being so dramatic. "I love you too, Baba. Now go get some sleep. You've got another big show tomorrow."

"I will," he promised, his voice already dropping into a sleepy drawl. "But first, tell me again how much you miss me."

"I miss you so much it hurts," she confessed.

He sighed, content. "That's all I need to hear. Good night, baby. I'll see you in your dreams."

Y/N hung up the phone, a smile playing on her lips. Despite the distance, she felt closer to him than ever. And she knew, deep down, that their love could weather any storm. Even if it meant going thirty-one days without milk.

[lvmimis]

“Talk to me, mm?”

In a world where everything is alright and you’re not out of sync with the love of your life, Izuku wouldn’t need to prompt you to do so. You’d let your mouth run freely as he listens, nods, affirms or offers an alternative perspective, his hand always finding its way to hold yours or his lips finding any way to press against your skin, anything to keep you physically connected.

But you’ve been upset with him for the past few days, perhaps weeks really, an ever-present gnawing at your very bones, discomfort like an invisible swarm of small insects marching under your skin. You're unsettled to your very core, but holding it in, holding all the pieces of you and your relationship together with cheap glue.

You hate to complain, and you can’t even come up with a complaint that feels less silly than I need you, I want you to come home more often, I want you to choose me, as if you are a grade school child asking for a kind look from a busy parent. So instead your lips have remained sealed and tight, and despite trying to remain warm and receptive, the cold seeps through.

Izuku has finally had a moment to breathe between Hero-ing and Helping and being everyone else’s safe haven, and now he insists on being yours again. 

“Baby.”

It’s hard to look at him now, when you’re this close. Izuku has once suggested that when you have conversations of a certain intensity, you do so in a quiet room, as close as physically possible, unable to look anywhere but each other’s eyes. It was silly to you when he’d suggested it and you’d giggled and agreed, but now, sitting face to face with your legs overlapping his and your faces two head spaces apart, it’s impossible to escape him or your feelings for him but you’re almost too overwhelmed to speak.

He grips your hands gently at the wrists, but doesn’t say anything more, just caressing your skin with the pads of his thumbs. There’s a smile on his face, peaceful, as if he’s just enjoying being in your presence, having the skin of your nearly bare legs in shorts graze against his waist. He’d murmur that he loves you, but he doesn’t want his feelings to matter more than yours.

You let out a sigh that wracks through your whole body and lean forward - you fall against his chest and he’s quick to hold you close.

“I miss you,” you whisper. And that’s it, all in a nutshell. You miss the warmth of his body and the arms that wrap securely around you right now, and knowing that even if he belongs to the world, he’s your first and foremost to have and to hold.

He holds you tight and sighs as well, kissing the top of your head before burying his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply of your love for him. 

“I know. I miss you too. But no matter what, I'm always yours.”

[intoanotherworld23]

Inked In Attitude

Summary: Joel doesn't appreciate you coming into his tattoo parlor with an attitude, and so he shows you a lesson

Warnings: mature themes, explicit content, pure raw smut and filth, unprotected sex, spanking, oral female receiving, fingering, major edging, rough sex, dominant Joel, submissive reader

A/N: hi my horny readers! If you liked this one feel free to comment and reblog so that others can read it as all! That would be so greatly appreciated! If you wish to be added to my tag list let me know and I’ll be more than happy to add you! Thanks everyone! XOXO

Hall of Hunks

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"Let me hear it," he said, a bit rougher now, his voice dipping. "Tell me what you want."

"Touch me," you whispered. "Please, Joel..."

"Oh, you're saying please now?" His grin widened, and one tattooed hand slid down, slipping between your legs, just the outside of your panties, cruel and slow. "That pretty little mouth didn't have manners when you walked in here demanding ink with that bratty attitude."

His thumb pressed in gently, then circled. Just once. It was humiliating how fast you reacted the way your hips jerked, breath caught, a whimper crawling up your throat.

"Fuck," he murmured, voice soft with dark amusement. "You're drenched. You get wet from the pain, or was it me telling you to take your panties off before I even started?"

A whimper slipped out.

"You liked that," Joel whispered, his lips brushing your ear now, his fingers still teasing but never enough. "Liked sitting on my table with your pussy bare while I inked you. Like a good little canvas. Mine to mark. Mine to ruin."

"I'm going to come—please—" you gasped.

"No, you're not." His voice turned sharp, commanding, and he pulled his hand away. You almost cried.

He stood and stepped back, licking his fingers with slow, deliberate hunger. "Mm. Sweet," he muttered. "But you don't get to come just for squirming like a slut in my chair. You're gonna earn it."

Joel grabbed your waist, spun me effortlessly around on the table, until you were bent forward, your cheek against the padded surface, ass bare for him.

"Look at this," he growled, running both hands over your thighs, then gripping your ass. "You've been teasing me since you walked in. All that sass, all that bratty eye-rolling and now look at you. Bent over, dripping for me. Just how I like you."

You gasped as he pulled your panties down to your knees, and gave you a sharp smack that echoed off the walls.

Then another. Harder. Then he soothed the sting with slow, gentle kisses, his mouth warm against your skin, tongue dragging low as he licked down closer.

"Joel," you whimpered. "Please..."

His laugh was low, wicked. "So needy. You want my mouth, baby?"

"Yes—God, yes—"

He didn't make you beg anymore. His tongue slid between your folds like he was starving. Messy, sloppy, loud. He sucked your clit into his mouth and moaned, the vibrations shooting straight through you.

"Fuck, you taste even better when you're desperate." Your body arched off the table, hips twitching, thighs trembling. You were already close, the burn building fast, and he knew it. His grip on your hips tightened, holding you in place.

"You're not coming," he warned, mouth wet against you. "Not yet."

"Joel—!" He pulled back, let you feel the loss, let you whine for it, then spanked you again, his handprint burning into your skin.

"You'll come when I say you come. Now turn around." You did, dizzy, aching, half-numb from how badly you needed it.

Joel unbuckled his belt with slow, deliberate movements, watching you the whole time. "You want cock?" he asked, smirking. "Or you want more tongue? Be honest."

Your voice cracked as you answered. "Both."

His laugh was pure sin. "Greedy girl."

He fisted his cock, thick and glistening, and walked back toward you.

"Then here's what we're gonna do," he said, pushing you flat onto your back, lining himself up right at your entrance but not pushing in. "You're going to take every inch of me like a good little toy. No running. No squirming. You come when I say. And if you come before that?"

He leaned down and bit your neck, then whispered, "I'll edge you until sunrise." He didn't slide in. Not yet. Joel hovered at your entrance, the tip of his cock just nudging where you were dripping for him, teasing, cruel, keeping you in that torturous limbo where you could feel how ready he was, but he wouldn't move.

"Feel that?" he murmured, voice low, sinful. "That pressure right there? That's how close I am to fucking you stupid, baby. But you haven't earned it yet."

You whimpered, arching your hips a bit. "Please please, I need it—"

His hand wrapped around your throat, not tight, but firm just enough to keep you still, just enough to make your heart pound harder.

"No," Joel growled, cock sliding up your slit in a slow, maddening drag. "You think you need it. But what you really need is a lesson in patience."

You whimpered again, louder this time. Your whole body was a live wire, tension coiled tight in your belly, your clit pulsing, everything soaked. He hadn't even fucked you yet and you were already on the edge.

"God, look at you," he whispered, voice thick with hunger. "You're soaked. You gonna come just from my cock rubbing against you?"

He did it again, slid the thick head of it up and down your folds, catching on your clit with a sharp, electric drag. You cried out, hips jolting, thighs trembling. Your body didn't know what to do, whether to move away or closer, whether to scream or beg.

"I should make you come like this," he said. "Just like this. Rubbing my cock against your pussy like I own it. Not even letting you have it. You'd come for me, wouldn't you?"

You nodded, breathless. Listening to every word like a song.

"Oh, I know you would. You're such a desperate little thing now, aren't you?" He leaned down again, mouth right against your ear. "All those smartass comments earlier. All that attitude. And now look at you. On your back, begging for my cock like a good little toy. Say it. Say you're my toy."

"I'm your toy," you whispered.

Joel grinned, kissed the side of your neck.

"Damn right you are." Then he dropped back down between your legs, spreading them wider with his big hands, licking his lips like he was about to devour a meal. "I'm not done playing with this pussy yet."

And before you could protest, he buried his face between your thighs again.

His tongue moved in quick, relentless circles around your clit, then down to fuck into you with wet, obscene sounds that echoed off the shop walls. You cried out, fists clenching the edge of the table, toes curling as your body spiraled fast toward the edge again.

His mouth was ravenous, his moans rumbling into you like he loved eating you, like it was his favorite thing in the world. His hands gripped your thighs so tight they'd bruise, keeping you open, exposed, twitching beneath his mouth.

"Fuck, Joel—please, I'm gonna—"

"Don't you dare." He growled the words against your clit, pulling back just before you tipped over. You sobbed, high-pitched and needy, your body on fire from the denial.

"You're so goddamn close," he murmured, watching you fall apart. "I can feel how hard you were clenching. You wanna come so bad, huh?"

You nodded furiously, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"Beg for it."

"Please—please, Joel—I need it—I can't take it—"

"Oh, I know you can take it," he said darkly. "You're gonna take everything I give you, baby. My tongue, my cock, my hands, every fucking edge I drag you through. Because you like being ruined by me. Don't you?"

"Yes—fuck—yes," you gasped.

He grinned. "Good girl."

Then he finally slid two fingers deep into you. Curling, slow, thick. His thumb found your clit and began circling hard and fast, and his mouth was back again, sucking, licking, filthy and frantic.

You screamed. Your thighs clamped around his head, and your body begged to come, trembling, shaking, about to—

He stopped. Pulled out. Sat back with a devilish look on his face. Loving how more and more desperate you were becoming.

"No!" You cried out, writhing on the table, empty, throbbing. "Please Joel—!"

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his beard glistening with you, eyes dark and amused.

"Look at you," he murmured, fisting his cock slowly while he watched you fall apart. "Shaking. Crying. And I haven't even fucked you yet."

Then he grabbed your legs, pulled you roughly to the edge of the table.

"Spread wide," he ordered. "Hands on your thighs. Hold them open. I want you to feel how ruined I've made this pussy."

You quickly obeyed, trembling, breath ragged, your own slick smeared everywhere. He ran his cock along your folds again, up and down, torturing you. Then finally he pushed in. Inch by inch. Thick. Hot. Deep.

You both groaned at how deliciously tight you were.

"You feel that?" Joel grunted. "That stretch? That's what happens when you tease me all fucking day. I take my time with you."

He rocked into you once, slow and deep. You cried out again, clenching, already too close, too sensitive. And Joel knew it.

"That tight little pussy's gonna come the second I say the word, huh?"

"Yes Joel, I need to please.” He picked up the pace. Harder. Deep. Hitting that spot with precision every time, his hand back at your throat, just enough pressure to keep you right there completely helpless, needy, his.

"You gonna come all over my cock like a good little thing?"

"Please, yes—please—let me—"

"Then do it," he growled. "Come for me. Right fucking now."

And you did. Hard. Your whole body arched, back bowed, a scream torn from your throat as the orgasm ripped through like lightning as you started shaking, gasping, sobbing with the sheer force of it.

Joel didn't stop. He kept fucking you through it, rougher now, his name a chant on your lips as wave after wave hit you, and all you could do was take it.

"Good fucking girl," he groaned. "So goddamn perfect like this. Look at you, taking it like I knew you would. You were made for this."

And when he came, it was with a deep, broken growl, holding you down, cock buried to the hilt, his warmth spilling inside you as he bit your shoulder and muttered, "Mine."

[jinxvex]

PLEASSSSEEEE SOME MEL APPRECIATION!! I WANT SOME SMUTTY SWEATY SMUT WITH AFTERCARE PLSOSL

♱ insatiable. ♱

I LOVE THIS REQ!! TY!! + i am still alive, i promise! i've been lazy w/ writing but i'm getting back on the grind!!

(ALSO! i'm not ignoring your asks (i swear!!))

syp. messy tribbing with mel....

cw: nsfw content!!, tribbing/scissoring, dirty talk, sub-ish!mel, dom-ish!reader, praising/sweet sex, lil bit of teasing, lil bit nasty, vulgar language, AFTERCARE!!! she’s needy for u!

mel medarda is insatiable when it comes to you—completely, utterly, and truly insatiable.

mel is usually one to be perfectly put together. you marvel at how perfect she is; not a hair out of place, no stains on her designer clothing, and not a single piece of gold jewelry twisted or mismatched in any way. she takes pride in her appearance and how people view her as a spectacle; someone to admire and strive to be.

oh! what the people would think if they saw her now…

mel is perched comfortably above you, having found the perfect position to pin you down and grind her sloppy wet pussy against yours. her hands grip your shoulders while yours dig into her hips so she can't run. she’s propped one of your legs up on her shoulder to get as close as possible, mouth open wide in the shape of an O. she’s dripping wet, cunt sensitive, and stretched out from the various ways in which you fingered her, fucked her with the strap, and then some.

she still can’t get enough.

“god! f-fuck, you feel incredible. s-so good,” she’s repeating herself over and over, brain blurry and filled with only images of you and the way you make her fully feel. the way your pussy, which is almost as wet as hers, feels against her has her mind reeling.

your shared wetness is leaking down onto the bed, creating a large, cold wet spot below you. you're groaning at how her pussy kisses yours, a short string of cum gathering between you two each time you meet. her pace is slow, and calculated. like everything she does.

you laugh, enthralled at her desire, “yeah, baby? you fuckin’ like grinding your needy little cunt on me? after all the times you came? you’re all stretched out ‘n you’re still begging for more, ‘s cute.”

the tone in which she responds is nothing short of pleading.

“hmph. mhm! fuck yes, babe. i need you. need you to let me come all over you. wanna make a mess f’you."

“p-please…”

her need—her longing ignites a new sense of urgency in you. you need to make her gush, make her pussy cream over yours, and create something so fucking messy but still beautiful nevertheless.

you want to paint her in you.

you quicken your hips that hastily move upwards to meet hers and find your head lifting off of the bed to stare deeper into her eyes. your grip on her hips grows slightly painful. mel lets out an abrupt yelp, resembling a scream, signifying her surprise.

“keep goin’, melly. wanna feel that pussy cum. you’re gonna fucking make a mess all over me, princess.”

you continue.

“make yourself cum. gimme that shit, babe. yeeeah, gimme that pretty fuckin' pussy.”

she stills, hips stuttering and eyes rolling to the back of her skull.

“f-fuhh- oh my god! m’ cumming!”

“me too, baby, fuck! can feel you throbbing.”

and with those words alone, she’s gushing against you, clutching your leg in her hands in a silent scream and mouth wide open. she rides out her high, broken moans and cries falling from her lips, breaking her pleasure-induced silence.

“that’s it, melly, f-fuuuck. give it to me."

miraculously, her pussy is drenching your lower half in her cum—mixing with yours and it’s beautiful.

white clouds her vision, droplets of sweat dripping down her brows as she collapses on top of you. she quickly wraps her arms around you and she’s breathing heavily.

she’s definitely done for the night.

as she buries her head into your shoulder, your arms cage her in and wrap around her back. you break your own silence to praise her, worship her like she deserves.

“mm, good girl. you did so good for me, gorgeous.”

“you came so hard, didn’t you, baby?”

she nods, unable to speak.

“yeah, babe. you deserve it.”

mel then looks up, eyebrows furrowed and capturing your eyes with her fucked-out gaze. her lips part.

she inches closer to your lips, “kiss, please.”

“of course, c’mere.”

when you kiss her, you do it softly by cupping her smooth face in your hands and gently guiding her lips along yours. she can still taste herself on your tongue and that makes her close in even deeper, appreciating the closeness and intimacy of truly feeling herself within you.

you break the kiss to look at her, you smile and stifle a laugh at her disheveled state although you still see her as the most beautiful, magnificent gift the world could ever offer you.

“wha-what’s so funny!” she jokingly accuses you of nothing and everything all at once.

“nothing, you just- you’re beautiful, melly. i love you.”

“and, i love you, sweetheart.”

your smile deepens, “good. now let’s go shower.”

…

lmk if y'all want more aftercare for future writings... i need to practice with it!!