#he would have come out on top in a few clashes maybe

[anon-ace]

I can't belive etho was using his sword the whole time. Like hello?? sure, there's symbolism or whatever but it does zero damage. Why is he so washed up he should know about the axe crits by now

[k1ng-ej]

Can you make a piece doing JJK boys being clingy with their girlfriends/partners (not sure which you write for!) and if you don’t want to do all the JJK boys maybe Choso or Inumaki? Thank you :))

Notes: Yes! I do not write for Yuta (and maybe a few others I'm forgetting), but I had a lot of fun writing this! This is my first time writing for a few of these characters so i apologize if they are out of character or not as good as the others ! also, i love the art you did of choso with his hair down a bit ago hehe ! (Requests are open)

Warnings: A lot of waist grabbing, slightly suggestive with Toji

Features: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Nanami, Choso, Yuji, Megumi, and Toge

JJK boys being clingy with you ₊˚⊹♡

Gojo

He's unafraid of displaying his clinginess, making it impossible to escape his touch in public or his incessant text messages. He always keeps a firm grip on your hand and has his arm securely around you. He reminded you of a puppy. He finds it difficult to communicate his emotions, particularly when he needs reassurance. However, as time goes by, you have become familiar with his gestures and discovered that his favorite way to seek comfort is by resting his head on your lap.

You find yourself now reclining on the couch, seeking solace after a heated argument. It was an unnecessary clash, and you wisely decided to distance yourself before uttering regrettable words. Suddenly, you hear the faint sound of Satoru's door creaking open, causing your gaze to fixate on the hallway, anticipating his emergence.

He had the appearance of a dog caught in the act, being confronted by their owner for their misbehavior.

Nervously, he made his way to the couch, anxiously settling into his seat. The fear of provoking a negative reaction from you lingered, making it difficult for him to relax.

While you were engrossed in your movie, you paid no attention to his gradual approach. This was a recurring pattern after your disputes. He would hover nearby, edging closer little by little. It was his unique method of expressing remorse and attempting to reconcile with you. Though it irritated you, it undeniably proved effective, for it was impossible to remain angry with him forever.

"Come here," you said with a dramatic sigh, invitingly patting your lap.

His face filled with joy, and without hesitation, he rested his head on your lap. Gently, you caressed his hair, soothing his scalp with a delicate massage. Occasionally, your hand rested on the side of his face, your thumb moving in a slow, comforting motion, tracing his cheek.

Geto

Suguru has a subtle way of showing his affection, preferring to express his clinginess in private. However, even in public, he can't help but steal glances at you or lightly brush his hand against yours as he passes by. Although he's not much of a texter, Suguru is fond of calling instead. So, when you're out and your phone unexpectedly rings, you can't help but be startled, but deep down, you already know it's him eagerly calling to inquire about your whereabouts and when you'll be returning.

A few minutes ago, he sent you a text instructing you to come to his room. You gently opened the door and stole a glance inside, catching sight of your partner in a state of complete relaxation, comfortably dressed in casual attire.

Timidly, you entered the room, gently closing the door behind you. With cautious steps, you approached his bed and slipped in beside him. He was dressed in a casual combination of a loose white shirt and black sweatpants. A cozy blanket covered him, and he promptly enveloped you in its warmth as soon as you lay down beside him.

His arm instinctively wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer to him. He planted tender kisses on your forehead and the top of your head, serenading you with sweet words. Your cheeks blushed, and you sought solace by burying your face in his embrace.

"Why are you so nervous? We've been together for months, yet you still seem so bashful around me, my love," he whispered gently, as his finger delicately brushed against your chin, tilting it upwards to meet his gaze.

"I'm not sure," you replied, offering a shy smile.

Your dopey smile was captivating to him. He adored seeing that smile, and it compelled him to draw nearer, pressing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss that made you feel as though you were melting away.

Toji

You've never encountered anyone as possessive as him. He shoots fierce glances at anyone who dares to cast a glance your way, and he constantly craves your affection, demanding kisses on a regular basis. Your neck is almost always adorned with his passionate marks, and no matter how many times you protest, he effortlessly silences you with a tender kiss.

"I'm home!" you exclaimed, shutting the door behind you. Initially, Toji was just renting a room in your house, but after you two became a couple, he became a permanent member of the household and no longer pays rent. As a result, you find yourself working more than ever before.

Toji loomed in the entrance, arms folded across his chest, his gaze drifting up and down your silhouette. The hunger in his eyes was a constant presence, causing you to squirm uneasily and your face to redden.

"Hey, have you eaten yet?" you asked softly as you brushed past him and made your way into the living room, which was adjacent to the kitchen.

"I did," he replied, firmly grasping your waist with his large hands.

You despised it when he behaved in such a way, yet you found yourself unable to break free from his hold. He forcefully drew you towards him until your back was tightly pressed against his figure. Without delay, he began to passionately kiss your neck. With each delicate touch of his lips against your flesh, an irresistible sensation of ticklishness arose, causing you to instinctively wriggle and yearn to distance yourself from him.

"Why are you always trying to distance yourself from me, baby?" he murmured softly into your ear.

"Toji, I've just arrived home after a long day of work, and the moment I step in the door, you're already all over me," you complained, gently removing his hands from you.

"I can't resist, you're absolutely stunning," he said with a smirk, trailing along as you settled on the couch.

Your moment of relaxation was abruptly interrupted as he forcefully pulled you onto his lap. You let out a groan of annoyance, reflexively wrapping your hands around his neck. However, he swiftly silenced you by passionately kissing you. At that moment, you realized that you couldn't complain any longer, as deep down, you relished in his neediness and his constant desire for your attention. Despite your fatigue, you couldn't help but feel elated that Toji truly wanted you and treated you with love and care.

His lips left a trail of passionate kisses down your neck, and your fingers became intertwined in the strands of his hair.

Choso

Choso is similar to a toddler that constantly follows you, tightly holding onto a piece of fabric from your clothes. He is tender and endearing, but also fears that his clinginess might bother you, causing him to frequently withdraw.

That only induces worry, and when you attempt to address the issue with him, his face turns as crimson as a ripe tomato, while he stumbles over his words and fabricates feeble excuses.

You found yourself in a quaint clothing store, browsing for new tops to replace the ones that suffered damage during your daring missions. Among the selection, you carefully lifted a vibrant, long-sleeved red shirt, unsure yet intrigued about whether it would suit your taste.

Choso was standing right behind you, his hand tightly clutching your shirt as he observed other shoppers. He was pleasantly surprised when you swiftly spun around to meet his gaze, a faint smile adorning your lips.

"What are your thoughts on this? Personally, I find it slightly too snug for my taste..." you lifted the top, examining it, before pressing it against your body.

"It's absolutely beautiful. You would look absolutely breathtaking wearing it," he boldly responded, shamelessly admiring you while he had the opportunity.

Blushing, you quickly tossed the top into your small basket and eagerly took hold of his hand, guiding him towards the checkout counter.

Nanami

At first, he didn't strike you as the clingy type. However, you were taken aback when he tiredly entered the house, removed his shoes, loosened his tie, and half-unbuttoned his shirt before collapsing on the couch next to you. His arm instinctively wrapped around your neck, drawing you close to him. Surprisingly, this became his routine every time he arrived home, and he would frequently message you during the day to ensure your well-being.

As he assured you he would be home soon, you decided to take charge of dinner preparations. Your utmost concern was to provide him with nourishing meals, especially after his demanding missions.

As you hear the door open and then close, your heart quickens in anticipation. Nanami enters the kitchen, his powerful arms wrapping around your waist, enveloping you in his embrace.

"Welcome home," you cheerfully greeted, spinning around and embracing him with your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Dinner smells good. How was your day?” he asked, his touch light but possessive as he held onto your waist.

"It was great! Tiring, but certainly nothing I couldn't handle. And how about you?" you said, flashing him a sweet smile.

"Same as always," he murmured, leaning down to gently kiss your nose. "Shall we eat?"

With a nod, you reach for two plates. Artfully arranging the food on each plate, you then make your way to the living room where Nanami awaits. Handing him his plate, you leisurely settle on the other end of the couch, playfully kicking your feet up and gently placing your legs across his lap.

You sat together in silence, savoring each other's company, a familiar ritual between you both.

Nanami was the first to finish his meal. He leaned forward, gently placing his empty plate on the small coffee table in front of the couch. Suddenly, you were surprised when you felt his large hands begin to massage your tired feet, a rare gesture from him. Without a word of complaint, you carried on enjoying your food. He was a true gentleman, always putting your happiness and well-being before his own.

After you had finished your meal and tidied up the kitchen, Nanami gently took your hand, guiding you towards the bedroom. There, he warmly embraced you as you two laid down, allowing your head to rest upon his chest, as you listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart. With his thumb, he tenderly traced circles upon your back, soothing you until both of you peacefully drifted into slumber.

Yuji

He is incredibly affectionate and caring, but he tends to be overly attached. His greatest concern is not being by your side if something were to happen to you. He consistently stays by your side, whether it is for a leisurely stroll, a shopping trip, or an important errand.

Sometimes he may be unable to accompany you, no matter how much he desires to. However, he reaches out to you, timidly requesting that you remain on the call until your return, providing him reassurance that everything is alright.

"Yuji, you do realize that I can simply text you, right?" you playfully chuckled over the phone as you disembarked from the train.

"I know, but if you don't reply to my texts, I'm left wondering what might have happened!" he complained from the other side.

You let out a contented sigh and shook your head playfully, all while sporting a contagious smile. To top it off, you were cozying up in one of his cherished hoodies. Your collection of his hoodies was a testament to their irresistibly soft and snug nature - an indulgence you simply couldn't resist.

"Do you know how incredibly adorable you are?" you asked, strolling along a bustling sidewalk towards your destination.

“I’m glad you think so. I love you y/n.” he said in a hushed tone, conscious of his surroundings and not wanting them to eavesdrop on this intimate moment.

"I love you too," you replied, giggling. You could imagine the slight blush he must have had, which made you giggle even more.

Megumi

Megumi may not be the touchy-feely type or a master of verbal expressions, but his constant stream of text messages makes up for it. Your phone is always abuzz with his messages, making sure you're always connected.

As you felt a vibration coming from your pocket, you instinctively retrieved your phone to see the latest message from Megumi.

M <3: 

Where are you? I miss you.

You:

Im just at the store megs. Ill be back soon :) 

M <;3:

Hurry up, the beds getting cold without you.

You couldn't help but let out a chuckle as you slid your phone back into your pocket. Afterward, you swiftly grabbed a handful of snacks from the shelf before making your way to the checkout counter. It's funny how Megumi reveals his need for attention only when you two are alone, and it seems like a significant portion of your time together is spent with him dozing off on your lap.

As soon as you finished paying for the snacks, you rushed back to his room. As you entered, his arms immediately wrapped around your neck, pulling you into a warm and affectionate embrace.

"Hey, Megumi. Hold on a sec, I need to take off my shoes." You chuckled, unable to reciprocate his embrace because of the bags you were holding.

Murmuring something softly, he backed away, allowing you the opportunity to remove your shoes. You carefully set the bags of snacks on his desk, and as soon as they were no longer in your grasp, he eagerly guided you towards his bed. With a playful roll of your eyes, you climbed into the bed, and settled in comfortably while he positioned himself on top of you.

With his head nestled on your chest, he closed his eyes tenderly. You sensed his entire body surrendering to relaxation, as his breath gently steadied, while your fingers lovingly became entwined in his soft hair.

Toge

You adore him with all your heart, but unfortunately, you cannot spare hours in his room, indulging in YouTube together. Due to his cursed speech, it makes it hard to communicate between the two of you, but the more time you spent with him, you began to understand when he spoke in rice ball ingredients. He demonstrates his attachment by sending you text messages at completely unpredictable times, requesting your presence in his dorm.

The very first time he did this, you truly relished the moments spent together, laughing at a few videos and snuggling on his bed.

You had just arrived back from a long mission when you received his message. Despite being tempted to decline, you couldn't resist. You found yourself drawn to his room, where darkness surrounded you, except for the soft radiance of a lamp and the flickering glow of the TV. He was seated on the bed, his relaxed shirt and comfortable pants giving him a casual appearance. His hair was disheveled, with a few strands sticking out, adding to his charm.

You greeted him in a tired manner, shuffling your feet as you approached and settled down on his bed. As you watched TV, he leaned his shoulder against yours, a comforting gesture that you had grown accustomed to. He always sought closeness with you, whether it was through your thighs touching, fingers gently brushing, or any other intimate connection. Your eyelids were heavy, and it was a challenge to concentrate on the video he turned on. Eventually, you kicked off your shoes and made yourself at ease in his comfortable bed. However, the moment your head touched the pillow, you succumbed to the peaceful depths of slumber.

It wasn't until after about 20 minutes that Toge realized you had fallen asleep. Swiftly, he turned off the television and tenderly covered you with a warm blanket, gently brushing away a few stray strands from your face. He planted a soft kiss on your cheek before snuggling up next to you, also succumbing to a peaceful nap.

[tasteleeknow-remade]

— koala

pairing: chan x fem!reader genre: smut, fluff, roommates to lovers, soft!dom chan. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 4.3k

summary: your roommate is a very physically affectionate person, you're not. after brushing him off over and over it takes him going on a successful date for you to realise maybe the thought of him touching someone else like he did you was worse than anything. clashing love languages, jealousy and mutual pining.

a/n: i hit 500 followers a few days ago so i just wanted to say how grateful i am for the support! i created this sideblog to share a spur of the moment attempt at writing [prompted by the taste performance] and i didn't expect so much positivity. i definitely wouldn't have given it another go and kept writing more otherwise so thank you so much for letting me know you liked it! hope you like this too!

afab!reader. protected intercourse. jealousy. mutual pining. pet names. chan is very physically affectionate, that's the entire premise of this one, they are friends and its playful but reader is awkward about it! he's grabby and he lies on top of her etc.

You hadn’t grown up in the most affectionate family, your parents loved you—you knew that—but you could count the number of hugs you’d received from them on your fingers. You guessed it was for this reason you couldn’t help cringing away from your clingy roommate. Either he had a very different upbringing or he’d just been unaffected by it because he was probably the most physically affectionate person you’d come across in your life. He’d approach you from behind with no warning when you were brushing your teeth, doing the dishes, cooking, whatever it was. His arms would wrap around you, breath tickling your neck as he asked what you were doing, how your day was or announce he was bored. It was never anything important and definitely nothing that needed to be mumbled into your neck. You’d freeze whatever you were doing, waiting for him to let you go. “I’m obviously doing the dishes,” you’d answer prompting him to give a final squeeze before freeing you—wandering away as you recovered. Recently he’d taken to waking you up in the morning by stumbling into your room and collapsing on top of you, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress. If you were lucky enough to be in a position where he hadn’t pinned your arms under him you’d attempt to shove him off you, often a completely hopeless endeavour. He’d free you when he was ready. 

This is where you found yourself now; trapped under him—his face buried in your neck. “I can’t breathe,” you groaned, arms pinned under the covers. One of the unlucky mornings.

“You’re so comfy though, much more than my bed,” his mumbling was barely audible, his voice gruff. It sounded like he’d just woken up and stumbled in here before he’d even fully opened his eyes. You needed a lock on your door. You didn’t know why you hadn’t done that yet. Everytime you found yourself under him like this it seemed like your number one priority in life but then he’d climb off and you’d go about your day, letting the idea slip from your mind every time. 

“Off. Or I’ll scream,” you announced. Often the only way was to yell in his ear. You didn’t particularly like starting your morning with a high pitched scream so you’d use it as a last resort, just the threat was usually enough—thankfully. He rolled off you with a groan. 

“Why are you so mean to me?” 

“Mean to you? You just marched in here and crushed me while I was having the best dream.”

“About?”

“Moving out.” 

“See? Mean.” He rolled onto his side and grinned at you. “Luckily I know it’s all talk, you’d never leave me—you looovee me.” 

“Get out,” you muttered half-heartedly, closing your eyes again. You liked his company. A lot. Despite his clinginess.

You felt the bed move as he sat up. He was silent for a moment before speaking, “I need your help.” You waited for him to elaborate, keeping your eyes closed—still sleepy. “You know more about clothes than me and I’m always wearing the same things so…” He pressed his finger into the middle of your forehead. “Hey, are you listening?” 

You sighed and stretched your arms above your head, accepting you weren’t getting back to sleep. You propped yourself up on your elbows before speaking, “I was listening.” 

“Outfit. I need you to help me pick out an outfit.” 

You rubbed your eyes. “For what?” Your roommate couldn’t care less about clothes, everything he wore was black and he’d often walk around the place with hardly anything on at all. If you hadn’t seen his closet yourself you’d easily believe he owned two outfits total. 

“A date,” he muttered, eyes fixed on where he was fiddling with the embroidery on your blanket. A date… he didn’t go on dates. Your mutual friends always teased him about his total lack of dating life. You’d been on two entire dates in the last six months and he made you seem like a total socialite. His hand waved in front of your face after you’d apparently failed to respond in an appropriate window of time. 

“You’re going on a date?” 

“I am capable of finding someone, believe it or not,” he huffed, looking a little wounded. 

“I just…didn’t think you were…looking.” 

“I wasn’t really…I guess. She just asked me out when I was getting coffee yesterday morning.”

“And you said yes?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You threw your blankets off and climbed out of bed—stumbling to your ensuite bathroom to brush your teeth. He was right. He had no reason not to go on a date. You squirted too much toothpaste on your brush and shoved it under the tap. He’d probably said yes because she was pretty, a pretty girl had spotted him in the coffee shop and worked up the courage to ask him out. It made sense. You shoved the toothbrush in your mouth just as Chan appeared in the doorway. 

“So you’ll help?”

You met his eyes in the mirror, he looked nervous—like you might actually say no. You nodded. It took one big step for him to wrap himself around you, mouth pressed to your skin. “Thank you,” he said, clinging to you a little longer than usual. 

“Get off or I’ll change my mind,” you mumbled around your toothbrush, a little toothpaste dribbling down your chin. He finished with his customary final squeeze and then he was gone. Leaving you to wonder what she looked like, this coffee shop girl.

“Is it alright that it’s all black?” he asked, fiddling with his collar. You’d put him in one of his long sleeve collared dress shirts and made him tuck it into some black pants with a belt. It was much more dressed up than his usual t-shirt and sweats look. 

“Yeah, just…” You reached to unbutton the shirt at his sleeves, rolling them up his arms. Your fingers brushed against his skin as you worked. You felt your cheeks warm. “If you roll these up it works for a day date, I think.” He was quiet as you moved to roll his other sleeve, it was rare for you to initiate any physical contact. You should’ve just told him to do this himself but it’d be awkward to stop now. You stood back when you were done, avoiding looking at his face as you inspected your work. He looked…really good. He turned to look in the mirror and fiddled with his sleeves a little before smiling.

“This is really okay?” he asked, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

You gave him a reassuring smile. “Yeah… yeah it’s okay.” His phone vibrated from where he’d tossed it on the bed, startling you. You grabbed the rejected shirts from the bed to hang them back in his closet while he checked it. 

“It’s her,” he said as you distracted yourself with his clothes. “She’s leaving home now apparently.” 

“You should go then,” you said, hanging one of the shirts back on a hanger. A hand on your shoulder made you jump. Why the hell were you so jumpy? You hung up the shirt and turned to face him, adopting a neutral facial expression. 

“Can I have a good luck hug?” he asked, arms open to receive you.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking?” You couldn’t think of a single time since you’d met when he’d asked you for a hug rather than just attaching himself to you with no warning.

His lips curved up into small smile. “I’m asking.” 

“A short one,” you said, unable to resist rewarding him for his unusual behaviour. 

He pulled you into his chest, the smell of his cologne overwhelming you. You were used to smelling his body wash when he was draped over you. He never wore cologne. You slowly lifted your arms to pat him lightly on the back. “Good luck then,” you muttered, prompting him to loosen his arms around you. Before you could pull away completely his hand moved up to hold the side of your head and his lips pressed gently to your forehead. You held your breath. He’d never done that before. You took a small step back and gave him a quick smile—failing to meet his eyes. Before he could get another word out you dashed from his room to the safety of your own. You sat on the end of your bed until you heard the front door close, falling back to stare at the ceiling as a heavy silence filled the apartment. 

You were struggling to keep your eyes open as you lounged in front of the TV. He’d been gone all afternoon and now it was well past your bedtime. You were working yourself up to accept the fact he probably wasn’t coming home tonight. It must have gone well. You’d been fiddling with your phone all afternoon, contemplating messaging him. What would you say? ‘How’s it going?’ ‘Is she prettier than me?’ ‘Are you going to go back to her place to fuck her?’ ‘When you wrap your arms around her, does she hug you back?’ Hence the phone being buried under the cushion at the other end of the couch, out of your reach. You were delaying going to bed, if you went to bed before he got home, the reality of him sleeping somewhere else—with someone else— would become real. Your eyes were so heavy, it wouldn’t hurt to close them for a little bit…

A warm body pressing you into the couch cushions woke you up, the smell of Chan’s cologne still lingering on his shirt. How long had you been asleep? It was still dark. “What time is it?” you whispered into his ear. 

“Just past 12 I think.” 

Had he fucked her already? Been to her place and fucked the pretty coffee shop girl before coming back here to press his body onto yours? “Get off,” you said, voice just above a whisper now. He played his usual game, ignoring you. You started squirming. “Chan, get off me,” you put as much assertiveness into your tone as you could. He pushed himself up so his weight was off you completely, hovering over you still. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Just get the fuck off me.”

He sat back on the couch, one leg tucked under him so he could keep his body turned towards you as you sat up against the arm rest. You pulled your knees to your chest. 

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?” he asked again. 

“Where were you?” 

“We ended up seeing a late movie, didn't start till 10. I texted you.” 

You looked down to the cushion he was sitting on, the one your phone was buried under. 

“I’m going to bed,” you announced, standing up. “Can you get up? You’re sitting on my phone.” He reached under himself, swiping around with his hand. He stood up and flicked the light on before resuming his search. 

“It’s not here.”

You reached under the couch cushion, digging your phone out to discover you had 3 messages—all from him and sent around 10pm. 

“Why is it under there?” he asked, blocking you from moving past him. 

“Move.”

“What are you so cranky for, hm?” He went to grab you, like he usually did whenever he pulled you against his chest. You grabbed his wrist. 

“Just—” you sucked in a breath. “Will you just fucking move?” you snapped. 

He frowned, stepping aside so you could escape to your room—shutting the door a little too hard behind you. Why were you so angry? The thought of him touching you like he usually did after touching her. It felt wrong. You climbed into your bed, pulling the blankets up to your shoulders. Guilt started leaking into your anger the longer you sulked, morphing it into anxiety. You hadn’t even asked him how it went, if he had a nice time. It was a big deal for him, going on a date. You stared at your phone on your bedside table for a while before giving in and snatching it. You opened the messages he’d sent earlier. 

i think your good luck hugs must have magical properties it’s going very well 

she complimented my outfit

gonna be home late we’re catching a movie 

You climbed out of bed, throwing your phone down onto the mattress behind you. Fuck it. When you opened your door, the lights were all off—he must’ve gone to bed. You’d have to wake him then. You shut your door behind you, again—a little too hard. You marched to his closed door, hesitating with your hand on the doorknob. This was crazy, you were being crazy. Why were you being crazy? You dropped your hand just as the door swung open. Chan stood on the other side wearing only his sweats. He was silent for a moment—looking you up and down before speaking, “Yes?” 

Fuck. Think of something not crazy to say. “I-I wanted to know what movie you saw.” Not great.

“Why?”

Why would you wake him up in the middle of the night to ask that? “Just curious.” Stupid.

“At 2am?”

It was 2am? You’d been stewing in your room for two hours. You’d lost it. “Nevermind.” You turned to leave, his hand catching you around the wrist. 

“Why do you wanna know what movie I saw? Do you not believe me?”

“Why wouldn’t I believe you?” 

“Because you think I fucked her instead.” 

You sucked in a breath, studying his face carefully. “Did you?” 

He took a step towards you, hand still wrapped around your wrist. “Are you jealous?” 

“No.”

“No?” He studied your face before slowly pulling you into his room and closing the door behind you. You found yourself pushed up against it, chest first. The wood was cold against the warm skin of your stomach, your small tank top riding up. “So it wouldn’t bother you if I touched her like this?” He traced his fingers up from your wrist slowly. They trailed all the way up your arm to your shoulder where he brushed your hair over your shoulder gently.  

“No,” you said again, less convincingly this time—voice a little breathy. 

He stepped closer, pressing your body further against the door with his. His lips touched the skin he’d revealed on your shoulder. “I think you’re jealous. I think you're angry with me for touching someone else. Hm? I’m right, aren't I?” You shook your head, breathing shallow. “I didn’t fuck her,” he continued. “We watched a movie, I drove her home and I kissed her goodnight.” You frowned.

“Kissed her?”

His chuckle tickled your skin. “On the forehead,” he clarified. 

“Like you kissed me…”

“No, not like I kissed you. That was different.”

You wriggled against him, turning yourself so your back was pressed against the door. He gave you no space to manoeuvre, keeping his body where it was right up against yours—your clothed breasts pressed against his bare chest. 

“Why was it different?”

“Because when I kissed her I was being polite.” 

“And when you kissed me?” you breathed. 

He traced his fingers up your neck, palm coming to a rest against your cheek—his thumb brushing back and forth against your skin. “That was because I love you.” 

You held your breath, eyes flicking back and forth between his as you attempted to decipher his meaning. Love…love as in his roommate who he loved as a close friend or… 

“You love me, too. Don’t you? I wasn’t sure. Not until tonight,” he continued.

“I-“ Did you love him? You wanted to kiss him. You were upset and you wanted to kiss him, that’s what you knew. 

“Mm?” he prompted.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his mouth to yours. He relented, letting you taste his lips on yours for the first time. You imagined how you’d feel if he had gone home with that girl tonight, if he’d come home the next day and announced he was seeing her again, if he started dating her and you missed your chance. You imagined if you couldn’t have him. 

He pulled away, leaving your lips wet. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” your voice was breathy as you panted, no hesitation this time. You attempted to pull him back for another kiss but he resisted. 

“Say it.” 

You leaned in to kiss each corner of his mouth before pressing your moist lips to his. “I love you,” you whispered against his mouth, feeling his lips curve up. 

“Yeah? Even when I smother you?” 

“Even then.” 

“Can I smother you now?”

“You’re asking?”

“I’m asking.” 

You detached yourself from him, ducking under his arms where they trapped you against the door. You crawled into his bed, lying back against his pillows as you approached you. “I’ve never had you in my bed before,” he smirked as he covered your body with his. “You’re always making me walk all the way to yours.” 

“I didn’t make you do anything.”

“I stubbed my toe on your door frame this morning.” 

“Your own fault.” 

He took your hands in his and stretched your arms above your head. You’d never held his hand before and now he was holding both as he hovered above you. Your hands were always so cold, his warm palms felt like they were bringing them to life. Sex was never a partcularly intimidate afair for you; you’d never slept with someone you actually cared about—who cared about you. Loved you? 

“Do you really?” 

“Hm?” 

“Love me.” 

“You really didn’t know? I didn’t think I could be any more obvious.” 

“You-I mean you never said anything…” You wracked your brain for any hints he could have given you. He never said anything, you were sure of it. He would never say anything important when he was draped over you. It was small talk. He was the only one who ever touched you that much but that’s just who he was. You thought that’s just who he was. “You mean all the…physical stuff?” You watched his lips curve up as he hovered over you. You’d had him over you so many times but with your mutual confessions still lingering in the air it felt altogether different. 

“Yeah, I mean the ‘physical stuff’.”

“You’re just like that though, you’re… not like me.” 

“I’m like that with people I love.” 

“Oh…” One of his hands moved to bring your wrists together so he could hold both your hands with one of his. The fingers on his free hand traced your lips, which had fallen open slightly in realisation. “But… you’ve always been like that with me.” 

“Mhm.” His fingers traced down your neck to the neckline of your tank top. “You’re not wearing a bra.” 

“I was sleeping.” 

“No you weren’t. You were stewing over me going on a date.” 

You ignored his teasing, focused on his gentle tracing across your chest. “Was she pretty?” you asked, watching his face for any clue about his true feelings. 

“Not nearly as pretty as you,” he muttered, sounding distracted as he released your hands from above your head. “Can I take this off?” He was playing with the hem of your top, his eyes fixed on where your nipples showed through the thin material. You placed your hand over his and guided him up under the hem, dragging his hand up your stomach to cup one of your breasts. 

“Soft,” he muttered. You couldn’t help laughing a little. 

“Yeah, have you never touched one before?” 

“Not these ones.”

“Are they different from the others?”

He ignored your question. “Can I see them? Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely.”

You pushed at his chest with your free hand, still feeling a little awkward initiating contact. Ridiculous really considering his hand was cupping one of your tits. He sat back on his heels, hand retreating from under your top at the last possible moment. You took a deep breath before pulling your tank over your head, resisting the urge to cross your arms across your chest the second you tossed it aside. During your previous sexual encounters you’d felt a lot more confident, the knowledge that it was merely a physical exchange; that you didn’t really care what the person thought of you—it made it all much less daunting. You cared what Chan thought of you, a lot. You cared if he thought you were prettier than the coffee shop girl and so sitting there in front of him topless? Terrifying. You watched his eyes take in your bare skin and then just as you were lifting your arms to cover yourself he grabbed your legs, pulling you down the bed until you were flat on your back. He covered your body with his, his chest pressing onto yours. You sucked in a breath at his warm skin against your sensitive nipples. 

“Always imagined how it’d feel to have you under me like this…” He had you under him like this most days, the only difference was that you were half naked this time. “Do you remember during that heatwave when you were walking around in that little dress?”

You did remember that day. It was one of the hottest days of the year and the power outage meant you were left to cool down with a cold bath and ice cream you’d saved from the freezer. A strappy nightdress—which honestly would probably be better described as lingerie—was all you could bare having against your sticky skin. You remembered it well because that night he’d fallen asleep in your bed, the first and only time you’d actually slept together. You’d woken up with him wrapped around you, your dress riding up between you. You hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes the rest of the next day. You felt your cheeks warm at the memory. 

“You were…more touchy than usual,” you said, avoiding directly referencing the night he’d spent in your bed. 

He lifted himself from his elbows to his hands, creating some space between your bare chests so he could see your face. “Was I? I just remember thinking you were the prettiest thing I'd ever seen.” 

You tried and failed to hold back a smile, completely unused to compliments from him at all let alone ones like that. His lips curved up at your reaction and then they were on yours. He thought you were pretty, the prettiest. He loved you and he thought you were the prettiest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down onto you again—a groan escaping him as you did. His lips on yours, your arms around his neck, his warm chest pressed into yours—it wasn’t enough. You wanted more of him. You wrapped your legs around him, attempting to pull him closer. He laughed against your lips. “Who’s the clingy one now, hm?” 

“More,” you muttered, fingers gripping his hair at the back of his head. 

“More?”

“Closer,” you said, desperate now. 

“I’m not sure that’s possible, baby.” 

You rolled your hips up into him, frustrated by the separation both your shorts and his sweats created. “Take them off. Please.”

“You’ll have to loosen your grip,” he said, giggling a little. He giggled. He giggled while you were desperate for him to take his sweats off and fuck you full. You released him, pulling your shorts down your legs as you watched him take the last of his clothes off. You’d seen his top half plenty, he’d walk around the place shirtless constantly. Anything below the belt? Well, that was new. He stood at the end of the bed, stroking his hard cock as he looked down at you. You still had your underwear on.

“Let me take them off,” he said, walking around to the side of the bed where he dug through his bedside drawer. He fished out an unopened box of condoms, tossing them on the bed before he crawled over to you. “Let me,” he repeated, hooking his fingers into your underwear to pull them down your legs. He moved so slowly you were tempted to reach down and finish the job, his fingers brushing along your skin the entire way. When he finally threw them across the room he moved just as leisurely to grab a condom from the box. His eyes were fixed on your cunt as he slowly worked one down his cock, taking pleasure in drawing it out. You tried to stay quiet, not wanting to rush him but getting more and more impatient by the second. You sucked in a breath when he pressed a kiss to your ankle, the start of a long trail of kisses he made all the way up your legs. By the time he made it to your cunt you were squirming, desperate again. He pressed one kiss just above your clit and you reached down to grip his arm, attempting to pull him up to you. 

“Please….Channie…please…need you closer.”

He moved to hover over you, his mouth a breath away from yours. “How close, baby? Inside? You want me inside you?” 

“Please.” 

“You’re asking?” he smirked. 

You wrapped yourself around him again, arms and legs pulling him down into you. He laughed. “Okay, okay. Just wanted this so long, trying to make it last a little, hm?” He reached down to grip his cock, guiding himself to press the tip against you. “Here? Where do you want me?”

“There…there…” you whined. 

He pressed his lips to yours as his tip pushed into you. Closer. You moaned into his mouth. More. When he bottomed out you held him there, legs tightening around him. He was everywhere. He was over you, inside you.

“Don’t let go,” you whispered. 

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

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[https-murdock]

Lunchtimes in the Office - Matt murdock (big fic version)

summary: Matt forgot his lunch, maybe you should drop it off.

word count: ~1.1k

warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) - porn with tiny plot 18+ MDNI

note: a few people wanted the big version of this after i posted a lil blurby thing so thought i’d try to do it justice! <3

“Gotta be quick.” Matt utters to you, almost believing his own words, that he could fuck you fast and that would be it.

Smiling, you nod in agreement, moving things across his desk and creating a little safe space for your body - Matt didn’t like to throw everything on the floor, and you weren’t about to distract him from what he wanted to do to you.

When you look back over to him, you can see him taking off his tie, letting it fall loosely around his neck as you grab both ends and pull him close to you, sitting on the edge of his desk. “Then you better hurry.” you say back to him, gently lifting the edge of your dress to sit around your waist.

Standing between your legs, Matt grabs your cheeks with both hands and kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever hold you. Tongues fighting for dominance, teeth clashing, it almost leaves you wondering if he thinks you’ll disappear if he stops.

“Why are these still on?” Matt says, feeling the lace material of the underwear you put on this morning, ready to enact your plan of hiding his lunch so you’d have to bring it into the office.

His fingers slip into the sides, pulling them down with fervour, leaving you naked from the waist down.

“Matt please, hurry.” It’s your turn to beg for his quick, rough movements now, as he realises he has the upper hand. With no response, he lifts you up by the thighs with ease and puts you on the edge of his desk, dropping to his knees. “Been thinking about this all day.” He mutters, kissing your thigh gently.

Just as you’re about to ask - or rather, beg - for more, he licks a stripe from bottom to top, knocking the air out of your chest.

“F-Fuck.” Is the only word that leaves your mouth in a stutter, as there is no response from Matt below you. He swings your legs over his back, tie still dangling in front of him, most buttons undone on his work shirt.

“Always taste so good.” At this point he’s muttering under his breath to himself, rather than to you. His tongue finds your clit and starts an assault you aren’t sure you’ll come back from in time for Karen and Foggy’s return. “Shit, M-Matt, so good.” You’re stuttering now, unable to fully form your thoughts into a sentence, and you can feel the smirk it drags from his lips, knowing exactly the effect he’s having on you.

He gently sucks on your clit, the sensation making you throw your head back with a moan that people could probably hear outside on the street, but you don’t care as he continues - just needing the final push over the edge as the coil is growing in your lower stomach.

The way he is softly grazing his teeth across your clit, taking his time to focus on every single reaction you’re giving him, every breath.

Matt lifts two fingers to your entrance, and doesn’t waste any time. Knuckle deep within a second, your mouth falls open with no sound, all thoughts have left your brain with nothing to spare. “I’m- hmph, I-“ You try, but you can’t even finish the sentence before your orgasm takes over, his fingers still moving at a pace that’s got you seeing stars, teeth biting into your thighs.

“That’s enough lunch for me.” He laughs, standing up and looking at you, using his hand to try and wipe some of your slick from his stubble as your hearing slowly returns.

“I need you.” You say, and you realise throughout this whole time you’ve barely spoken to him, too focussed on the way his mouth feels against your folds.

Matt has always been a giver, and you can tell by how hard he strains against his pants every time he stands up after making you cum so hard you can barely see.

You can feel how wet you are, and it’s likely leaving a patch on his desk - but Matt couldn’t care any less. As he stands, finally freeing himself from his boxers as his work pants drop to his ankles - you can tell how bad he wants this, needs this even.

There’s a loud slap as his cock hits his abdomen, your eyes finding the happy trail of hair leading towards it. You can’t help but gasp slightly at his size, and however long you’ve been together there will still be part of you shocked each time, an excitement to have him so deep inside of you he’d knock the thoughts from your mind. The desperation in you is building when you can see the precum leaking from his tip as he runs his cock across your slick, coating himself.

“This what you need sweetheart?” He questions, red glasses still on hjs face, and just looking at him, half dressed, you can tell how much he needs this too - how rushed this is between you. “God yes, please Matt.” You groan, and without question he immediately sheathes himself inside you.

With no hesitation, Matt is immediately pounding you into the desk, and you can hear the screeching on the floor from the wood moving.

“Fuck, S-shit. You’re always so tight.” He almost growls, legs still stood between yours as he lets his head fall on your chest, messy hair falling to your shoulder for you to latch onto. You pull gently, hearing him whimper under his breath, almost trying to hide how much he loves feeling your nails run across his scalp, a slight sting when you pull.

“Cum inside me, Matt. Need to feel you.” Both of your sentences are now just words shoved together, trying to make sense to one another as his hips move heavily.

Matt doesn’t stop, no resistance in his hips slamming into yours, and you can feel the coil beginning to spin again as his thrusts get sloppy, still remaining with the strength of his movements. “Fuck babe, cum all over me.” He grunts, fingers quickly moving to your clit and harshly rubbing, immediately sending you into another mind blowing orgasm as his mouth drops open, hitting his too.

Your vision blurry, you feel him paint your inside white, Matt slowly coming to a stop.

“Shit, sweetheart.” He says softly, kissing your forehead and gently pulling out. “I love you.” You say, and realise that after such a rushed fuck, that was probably the wrong time to feel so loved up.

After getting himself and you dressed, looking slightly more appropriate to defend those of Hell’s Kitchen - Instead of laughing as you expected at your sudden show of affection, Matt just kisses you softly and replies the same, his slightly fucked-out voice whispering, “i love you.”

“Aren’t you glad you forgot your lunch?”

-

tagging those who asked for a big version!

@sleepysleepymom @bluerobin35

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒟𝐼𝒩𝒩𝐸𝑅 𝒯𝐼𝑀𝐸

info ⭑ haitani ran x f!reader. 1.7k wc. nsfw (minors do not interact) ﾉ established relationship ﾉ teasing ﾉ fingering ﾉ oral (f!receiving) ﾉ mentions of creampie  

if you were in your old apartment, one of your neighbors would have been banging on your door with a noise complaint by now. it’s one of the many perks of living with bonten’s haitani ran; his penthouse allows you to live without the concern of angry neighbors berating you for attempting to find joy in your daily tasks. you would make a list of all the other benefits if you weren’t too busy sliding around the kitchen in your socks and using the spatula as a makeshift microphone.

the bluetooth speaker sitting on the edge of the counter farthest from the food you’re cooking blares a song from the random playlist you had put on some time ago when you began to prepare dinner. as much as you love your new home, you have to admit; the silence that blankets the apartment while ran is away can be suffocating. you’d much rather have him home with you but your musical performances can tide you over until he finishes things up at work.

a lyric you can never resist singing approaches, gluing your feet to the spot in front of the stove as you ready to belt it out. you’re in the middle of hitting a note when a pair of arms wrap around your waist and pull you back so that you’re flush with his chest. you don’t have to turn your head to tell it’s ran. “you, my dear, have the voice of an angel.”

“someone’s out for brownie points,” you joke through a giggle. even though you haven’t faced any complaints regarding your loud music, maybe you should consider lowering the volume just a bit. you didn’t hear the automated ring of the lock signaling ran’s arrival. hell, you couldn’t even hear him coming towards you.

“me? never.” he shakes his head but a knowing smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. his chin comes to rest on your shoulder and you can see the two tones of his short, styled hair. it was neatly gelled this morning but now, a few strands stray from the coiffed majority. he must have been running his hands through it all day. 

a deep, thoughtful hum vibrates the junction between your neck and shoulder, effectively gaining your attention. “what’s with all the clothes under this apron?”

you snort. what he’s getting at is clear but you feel the need to kid with him first. “that’s kind of the point of an apron—to protect the clothes you’re wearing beneath it.”

“i suppose,” he sighs, the breath of air wafting past your ear and sending a chill down your spine. “although, i do think you’d look a lot better without these.” he tugs on the hem of your cropped top and waistband of your thin lounge shorts. they slap against your skin with a resounding snap, pulling a surprised squeak up from your throat.

you’d be lying if you said ran’s ministrations and sugared words didn’t turn you on, but he could wait until after dinner was ready if his plan was to get you all hot and bothered. “you’re so shameless.”

“don’t worry, though,” he continues, ignoring your statement. you feel the neat bow tied behind your back significantly loosen. the strings of your apron brush against the bare skin of your legs as heavy hands find a home on your hips to spin you around. ran smiles and the corners of his violet eyes crinkle. “we can fix that easily.”

he pulls the apron over your head, discarding it on the island behind him. in one fluid movement, his hands grip your thighs to lift you onto the counter. the surface is cool beneath your skin and you fail to hold back a gasp at the contact. your parted lips give him the perfect opportunity to lean forward and capture them in a kiss. it’s a hungry clash of teeth and mingling of tongues that sends heat directly down to your core. even when ran pulls away, a string of saliva keeps the two of you connected. “mm, i’ve been thinking about kissing those pretty lips all day.”

you grin at the thought of being on his mind when you’re apart from each other. a sense of pride swells in your heart knowing that you mean so much to him. you’re not able to appreciate it for long before his mouth is on yours again. wandering hands make their way up to grope at your breasts. nimble fingers sneak their way under the hem of your top, pinching and tugging at your hardened peaks. the rough sensation draws a whimper up from your throat. ran’s chuckle rumbles against your lips.

“alright, alright, i’ll stop teasing.” his voice is breathy as he pulls away from you. heavy hands fall from your tits but he makes no move to pull your shirt back into place—he’d rather leave them out on display. instead, his hands bunch up the smooth fabric of your shorts. ran’s thumb taps at your thigh. “lift your hips up for me, yeah?”

you follow his command, steadying yourself on the counter before raising your pelvis. he smiles at your quick obedience, dragging both your satin shorts and panties down the length of your legs and casting them away to a pile on the floor. he, too, lowers to the floor, propping himself up on his knees.

from this position, he’s got the perfect view of your pussy. he licks his lips and whispers, “gorgeous.” his lips curl up in a smirk, eyes still trained on your cunt. “and so wet. you must have been thinking about me, too, huh?”

you nod, exhaling a heavy breath as deft fingers run up and down the slit of your puffy folds. his movements are deliberate, slow and calculated. it’s only when he’s ready that you feel one finger prodding at your entrance, ever so slowly sinking deeper and deeper into you until you can feel the cold metal of his ring against your heat. he doesn’t give you time to adjust to the chill before he’s dragging his finger out of your gummy walls just as leisurely as it entered. the lazy pumping continues and you’re sure he’s enjoying himself; if the smile tugging at his lips is any evidence. you, however, are frustrated. you try your best not to squirm as you speak. “more.”

“hm? more what?” he finally looks up to meet your eyes. there’s a teasing sparkle in his lilac irises, one that urges you to elaborate. and you know you should, otherwise, you’ll never get what you want.

“another finger,” you whine. “‘n faster, please.”

he huffs out a laugh through his nose. “as you wish.”

ran’s a man of his word, plunging another lithe finger into the warmth of your cunt. you suck in a shaky gasp at the uncharacteristically fast intrusion—although it satisfies you, fills you up like you had hoped it would. and, just as he promised, ran picks up the pace. the relaxed speed becomes one that’s more erratic, desperate even. with the curl of his fingers, he reaches the spot he was just short of hitting earlier, the one he knows works you up.

“f-fuck!” you choke out. your exclamation brings a grin to ran’s face. you never fail to give him the exact reaction he’s looking for. but—and he’s not afraid to admit this—he’s greedy. he wants, no, needs more. he’s sure you’re willing to give and he’s more than happy to take.

still knuckles-deep in your cunt, ran dips his head down to leave a soft kiss on the bud of nerves settled at your apex. you twitch beneath his lips and the man takes it as a sign to continue. his tongue pokes out, wet and pointed, to circle the sensitive pearl. your thighs tense tighter and tighter with each swirl and the knot in your tummy grows taut, threatening to snap at any moment.

ran easily takes notice of your impending orgasm. one final push is all it will take to send you over the edge and he knows exactly what will do the trick. you’ve done so well for him, of course he’ll reward you for being good. he bites back a laugh before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit to suck at it—once, twice, thrice, until your back is arching and your eyes are rolling into your skull.

a wave of pure bliss washes over you but your cries of pleasure are overpowered by the jolting blare of the fire alarm. you don’t have a single second to wind down from your orgasm before ran pulls away from you, drags his fingers out of you, to deal with the situation on the stove. you’re left a shaking, sweaty mess perched atop the granite counters.

with his clean hand, ran easily turns off the burner and removes the pan of ruined food from the heat. the fingers covered in your essence make their way up to his mouth while he examines what was meant to be tonight’s meal. you watch as he casually cleans the indication of your arousal off of his hand. “well,” he pulls his fingers out with an exaggerated pop, “that’s beyond help.”

his show sends yet another wave of excitement straight to your core. the bulge pressing against the front of his tailored pants is no help either, creating an outline that’s practically screaming ’look at me!’. all you can think about is ran between your legs, his cock buried in you, and the warmth of his release painting your walls. you tilt your head back and let out a breathy sigh. “shit.”

“no need to fret,” ran assures you with a knowing smile. “i’m sure that restaurant you like can fit me in for a last-minute reservation.”

the veiled innuendo is cause for a pout. you and him both know that dinner is the last thing on your mind.

heyoooo, it's sua :3 thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[slytherinshua]

INTERTWINED SOULS, CLASHING LIPS

genre. vampire au. fluff. brief reference to vampire seungwoo for @haecien and cien alone teehee. warnings. reader is briefly a bat sdkjsk lmao. blood and fangs and other vampire stuff. hanbin's tattoos are magical!! kissing and the tiniest bit of biting. like 1 second of nudity i'm not sure but it's nothing sexual guys promise. not proofread. pairing. vampire!hanbin x vampire!reader. wc. 997. request. no. a/n. i mean he was practically asking me to write this when he dropped his aotm...

read part 2 here

Hanbin’s collarbone was burning, which, despite the pain, was a good sign. His tattoos were reacting to a signal that only you could have put out. And he knew that you were coming home, back to him.

It had been a few years since you had been sent out on your mission by the elders. Hanbin had never worried about you making it back to him. You dying from a mission was a ridiculous notion, no matter how dangerous the task was. You always rose above your station and completed every commission you were given. But the years you had been apart from him, although barely even worth counting, had started to become noticeable to him.

Compared to the hundreds of years you had been united with him, a couple years gone on a mission was almost nothing. But with time had grown fondness, and Hanbin couldn’t help the way his heart yearned for you.

As the burning grew more intense and his tattoos glowed brightly, he knew it was only a matter of minutes before you were back in his arms. He waited with baited breath on the top of his tower, eyes sharply focused for any bat that emerged from the forest. Exactly 8 minutes later, he saw the silhouette of one.

He rubbed his palm against his sternum, subsiding the pain that had grown to its worst. The cost of uniting two vampire’s souls in hopes of greater power was an equal amount of pain. Hanbin held out his hands, and the bat landed carefully on them. It slumped forward a second after, completely exhausting its energy. Hanbin cupped it gently, and carried it inside. 

“I told you not to fly with the pain. Now you’re stuck.” He scolded the bat as he placed it on the soft bed. He closed his eyes in concentration, and with his right hand flattened over his moon tattoo, slowly summoned his power. The ink glowed, and so did the palm of his hand.

He moved his hand to the bat's head, ignoring the screech it let out as he let the magic flow through its body. A few seconds of writhing around later, the bat shapeshifted back into its vampire form.

“You couldn’t have been a little gentler with that? You nearly suffocated me.” You coughed, shooting a glare at the man dressed in black. He handed you a robe with a shake of his head, and you wrapped it around your bare body.

“Would you rather live as a bat for the next thousand years? You should be thankful.” He tsked, averting his gaze from your figure so as to try to not seem so obvious. You had called him out many times for his bad habit of staring.

“All you do is nag me. Someone needs to shut you up.” You stood up, grabbing Hanbin’s wrist before he could continue making moves to leave the room.

“As if you’d survive a day without a word from me.” He countered, red eyes shining a bit brighter at your touch. He hadn’t felt his magic surge so powerfully since the last time you had been back.

“I survived a few years. A few more days would be a piece of cake.” You replied, pulling his face down before he could think of another witty response. 

Maybe it was the familiarity of it all that made you feel as if nothing had changed. Hanbin’s lips tasted just like you remembered. Exactly the same as the many nights you had imagined it in hopes of soothing the ache in your heart. Coming back to Hanbin meant coming back to a missing part of your soul. The longer you were separated from each other, the weaker you both became. And, as the reverse, the closer you were, the stronger. That is why the elders were so pleased with your clearly undying infatuation with each other. 

Hanbin’s former reprove towards you completely melted away the moment his lips made contact with yours. The clash of soft lips and sharp fangs stole all his breath, clouding his brain with only one thought: relief. Restlessness always followed him when you were away. Your weak state when you landed in his hand filled him with worry, but feeling your kiss now gave him consolation. 

He pulled away breathlessly, and a satisfied smirk lifted on his lips, just wide enough to uncover one of his fangs. You looked at his face, admiring his gleaming eyes, bruised lips, pearly teeth, and smooth skin. Your gaze dropped slightly lower, eyeing the marking on his collarbone, of which you also displayed below the dip of your neck.

You pressed a small kiss to the sun, which granted Hanbin his strength and surged his magic. Next, your lips found the star, which allowed him to cast complex spells, both to aid in combat or alter the very fabric of time. Lastly, you grazed the moon emblem which stored his healing abilities. With it, he was easily able to nurse you back to health within seconds. Pulling him closer again, you travelled up to his neck and teasingly nipped at his skin.

“Did you not get your fill of biting people while on your mission? You’re insatiable.” He commented in amusement. The sensation pricked his skin with a whisper of pain that was soon soothed completely by your lips. Although he would gladly let you have free rein over him for as long as you wanted, one glance at the time urged him to pull you off of him gently.

“We should announce your return to Seungwoo and the others. They’ve been expecting you.” He urged you, and a flash of pride showed in his eyes. You were sure to be rewarded generously for your excellence during the past few years you were gone. Now more than ever, Hanbin felt fortunate that he was intertwined with you in every function of life. For, even your very souls laced together perfectly.

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[appalamutte]

When Eric finally, after three hours of deliberation, decides to take a shower, the oven timer sounds from across the apartment.

"Shoot, hon," he says to a sleeping Deke as he scrambles half-naked down the hall and into the combined kitchen-slash-living room. The dog doesn't even pick his head up—just opens his eyes and raises one ear from the worn-down dog bed in the corner beside the couch. "What is your daddy going to do? Forgetting I put some apple turnovers on, Lord, my mind is plum gone."

A small waft of smoke burns at his eyes when he opens the oven door. The turnovers are a touch too crispy, blackened on the bottoms in a way Eric's always disliked and his family's always preferred. He sets them to cool on top of the stove.

He also lights an apple pumpkin candle, just for the hell of it.

Maybe he even still grabs one to eat.

Some hockey game is playing on the television when he goes to sit on the couch. Eric doesn't even remember turning the television on, let alone deciding to watch the game tonight of all things, but the Falconers are currently losing against the Canucks in the fourth quarter and the turnover tastes like burnt flour in his mouth and Eric was fired from his job, for the first time in his life, earlier that morning.

Deke stands from the dog bed—oh, who is Eric fooling, it's an outdoor patio cushion Eric bought on clearance a few years ago that was the perfect size for Deke to lay on—stretches, yawns, shakes sleep off his body and joins Eric on the couch. Noses his way toward the turnover in Eric's hand, digs his paws into the thin cotton of Eric's underwear to stand up, up, up until Eric's forced to shove the rest of the turnover into his still-full mouth.

"Down," he mumbles out, and Deke doesn't listen, but he does lick at Eric's face and that's okay, too.

"Mashkov chips the puck up the ice into Canuck territory, St. Martin goes to pick it up," the announcer is saying, the bright white light of the game clashing with the soft lamplight of Eric's apartment. "Bit of a struggle with Canuck's number twenty-eight, though St. Martin is able to snatch the puck and send it up to Zimmermann, who—"

"What am I going to do with you?" Eric asks once Deke yawns again and lays halfway onto Eric's lap, belly-side up and ears flopped this way and that.

His phone lights up from the side table, buzzes once, then goes dark again. Eric ignores it for all of two seconds before he snatches it up and unlocks it, seeing seven missed phone calls, fifty-two text messages, three emails, a handful of Twitter notifications, and a reminder from Tinder that his profile will be hidden soon if he doesn't log back in to it. That one is immediately deleted, as well as his emails—all from clients who haven't been told he's no longer with the company—but the Twitter notifications grab his attention long enough that he misses out on the goal the Falconers score until the network starts showing replays.

"What a goal! Wow, Rick, I have to say, despite the rough game they've had up until this point, Zimmermann may have just turned their spirits around. I mean, talk about an all-around masterclass of a shot. He's been quiet all night and then he does this? It's like he's been waiting until this moment to make something happen."

The cameras flick through a series of shots: the full rink from above, panning across the team celebrating at the bench, coming in close to where Robinson's pulling Jack down to Mashkov's wide-open arms for a hug. The joy is palpable. The smiles are wider than Eric would expect for a goal in a lost game. Jack doesn't look so frustrated now, not like he was looking the other night over the phone, and he makes eye contact with the camera as St. Martin comes in to pat against his helmet and Jack winks.

He—he winks.

The screen changes to that of the announcers as soon as Eric registers what he just saw. Surely, that wasn't—he didn't—now, Eric might be a gullible person under the right circumstances, but he's not delusional; he knows Jack doesn't know he's watching the broadcast because they haven't talked since yesterday when Jack was still in Seattle and Eric's life hadn't yet fallen apart and today's game was never mentioned. Jack didn't wink for Eric. He winked for the camera, for all the fans, a culmination of the Falconers' media training and Eric's gentle pushing that he needs to be more personable, more charming, at least for the media.

But—something warm settles inbetween the spaces of Eric's ribs and slowly fills the cavity of his heart.

The Falconers still lose the game. The announcers mention that this is now the fourth game the Falconers have lost in a row. Eric watches until the station starts covering highlights from another game from earlier in the day, and when he turns the television off, he finds the apartment to be silent.

Though, not like before. Not like when he first got home from work six hours too early and turned his phone off and fell face-first on his unmade bed. Deke softly snores in Eric's lap now, hot to the touch. It almost smells like home did when Eric was ten and helping his Mama bake after school. For the first time in years, despite the circumstances, Eric doesn't have to set any alarms for a Thursday morning.

Jack's making a layover in New York tomorrow.

That is enough.

[rafeshoeeee]

Business partners

You and Rafe have never really gotten along, you were both extremely stubborn and your similar personalities tend to clash from time to time. Your relationship has slightly improved over the years, finally learning to tolerate each other, but the two of you still squabbled like children, bickering at each other over the smallest of things.

When the two of you found out your fathers had arranged for you and Rafe to go to a business party as a couple, hell broke loose. But after lots of disagreeing, you both realized that neither of your fathers would change their minds, especially when it comes to business.

Your father had already picked you out a dress for the occasion, because apparently all your dresses are too inappropriate. You were expecting something really ugly and an awful bright color, but it was actually surprisingly nice. A long, black strapless dress, the top was almost corset like, but very elegant, nothing too over the top, perfect for the occasion.

Rafe's father, Ward, had suggested that the two of you should share a hotel room. Despite only being in there for a few hours before the event started and for somewhere to sleep afterwards, Ward thought it would be a good bonding opportunity and your father agreed with his idea.

The taxi had finally dropped you off at the hotel after the hour and half drive it took to get there, you and Rafe both becoming agitated from being in each other's presence for so long. 

Rafe signed into the hotel and got the room key from the receptionist. You left him to figure out where your room was, but it didn't take him very long.

You assumed there would be two single beds but your jaw dropped when you saw one king sized bed. "why the fuck is there only one bed" you protested, slumping onto the lounge chair next to you.

"our dads clearly wanted us to practice acting like a couple" he chuckled, clearly finding this whole thing amusing.

you scoffed, his immaturity not taking you by surprise, "it's not funny Rafe" you ran a hand through your hair out of agitation.

He rolled his eyes before throwing himself onto the bed, "relax, it's called a joke. I was trying to lighten your mood."

You scoffed again, looking at his cocky smirk, annoying you even more by how he was enjoying winding you up, "stop pretending that your excited for tonight, you're dreading it equally as much as i am. And don't even try and deny it"

His smirk grew bigger, sensing how annoyed you were getting, "seeing you all dressed up will make up for it" he flirtily commented.

You just screwed your face up in annoyance and walked towards the bathroom, "i'm showering, don't come in"

"i don't know if i'll be able to help myself" he teased, the smirk on his face still remaining the same.

You spun your head around at his comment, looking straight at him with a 'don't you dare' expression on your face, and he held his hands up in surrender. You lightly laughed at his action before entering the bathroom and shutting it behind you.

You turned on the shower and let it heat up whilst you underdressed, appreciating the quiet time and being away from Rafe for a while.

As you stepped into the shower, the warm water hit you, drowning you in your thoughts. Maybe Rafe wasn't so bad, he was a very attractive young man but his temper and snarky little comments he constantly made was off putting. But he also made flirty comments here and there and it scrambled your brain. Most of the time you were walking on eggshells around him, never knowing what would cause him to lash out, but sometimes he was kind and gentle. You two shared the same humor, some times bouncing off each other's comments and laughing at things most people wouldn't even consider funny, but one of you always takes it too far, leading to yet another argument.

You scrubbed at your skin with the sponge, washing away any dirt that had clung onto you. The scrubs were rough, your thoughts about Rafe making you frustrated, annoyed that he had made this effect on you. The flirty little comments he made towards you were engraved in your mind, you always remembered every comment he made about you, good or bad, but the flirty ones always stuck with you. The way they easily rolled off his tongue and the smirk that was always on his face whenever a flirty comment was made, was an image you could never unsee.

God. What were you thinking? This is Rafe Cameron you're talking about, a spoilt, hot headed, rich boy who always wanted his own way and threw a tantrum whenever he didn't.

You turned off the shower and stepped out, the cold air hitting you, causing goosebumps to appear. You wrapped the towel around your small frame whilst you took your dress out of the bag, holding it up against you and looking at yourself in the mirror. You thought about how to style your hair and what sort of makeup would complement the dress.

You brushed that thought to the back of your mind and slipped the dress on, it took quite a lot of adjusting and making it sit comfortably but you thought you looked great. It hugged your curves perfectly and gave your boobs a slight push up, making them more noticeable.

You had taken everything in with you beforehand so you were prepared. You started by styling your hair with a curling iron, the curls weren't too tight as you wanted more of a natural looking wave. You didn't want to go too overboard with your makeup, you decided on a winged eyeliner and a red lip, wanting to look professional and classy so you fit in perfectly.

Just as you were perfecting your eyeliner, you head a light knock on the door, "can i come in?" Rafe asked gently. It took you by surprise that he didn't just barge in, never usually having any shame.

"sure" you replied, continuing on your eyeliner. You assumed Rafe had just come in to get something but he stood right beside you with a huge pout on his face. His tie was draped around his neck but undone, he looked extremely frustrated with himself.

You looked up and furrowed your eyebrows at him, "what's the pout for?" you asked before mimicking his babyish pout.

He rolled his eyes, clearly not in the mood for joking around, he let out a huge sigh and rubbed his forehead with his hand, "can you just, do my tie for me?" avoiding eye contact with you, clearly embarrassed about asking.

You lightly laughed before placing your eyeliner down, "you seriously can't do one?" you couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, his poker face had always been extremely hard to read.

He let out a loud sigh, "do you really think i'd come in here and bother you if i did?" he was trying to keep his cool, but not doing a very good job at keeping it together.

You raised your eyebrows and slightly rolled your eyes, not surprised one bit by his reaction. You tucked a loose strand of your now curled hair behind your ear, "well i can't reach" his height compared to yours was the first thing most people would notice when you two are together, you standing at 5'3 whilst he's at 6'4.

Before anything else could be said, Rafe's hand gripped your waist, lifting you up and he gently placed you on the bathroom counter, now in perfect eye-line of him. His beautiful blue eyes pierced into you, waiting for you to start. You quickly glanced at him before maintaining your focus on his tie, gently folding the ends over each other.

The silence was loud, you could almost hear a pin drop. It was different, compared to what the two of you are usually like, which is bickering and arguing, and now you're in perfect silence, it was peaceful almost.

You didn't like the silence though, it felt unnatural between the two of you. You patted his shoulder, letting him know you were finished.

He admired your work in the mirror, "cheers" he ran a hand through his hair before tucking his shirt into his trousers.

You had to admit, he looked good, his suit looked great on him and the navy blue trousers were perfect for him.

"I still can't believe you actually can't do one. How the hell did you manage at school?" you questioned, curious to what he did.

"my dad always bought me a clip on one" he stated.

you rolled your eyes, "of course he did" you picked up your red lipstick and carefully coated it on, being careful not to go over the natural shape of your lip.

"we need to go by the way" Rafe reminded you.

you messed about with your hair in the mirror one last time and put your lipstick back in your makeup bag, "yeah, yeah i'm ready" you told him, slipping on your black high heels and quickly spraying even more perfume on.

Rafe reached out his arm and you grabbed onto his bicep as he lead you out the room. As you were walking to the event, It didn't feel weird or uncomfortable being this close to Rafe and you surprisingly didn't mind clinging onto his arm at all.

You didn't want to admit it but you were actually quite nervous, you weren't an expert at business talk and your mind usually went blank whenever you were asked about the topic. You hesitated to ask Rafe but he was your only option, "um, Rafe" your voice was small and soft, but he heard you just fine.

He hummed, letting you know he heard you and allowing you to continue, "can you just, remind me what i need to say when somebody asks me about business" you felt extremely stupid, going to a whole party where everyone knew what they were talking about apart from you.

"just stand there and look pretty, i'll do the talking, you have nothing to worry about" he reassured you, a smile spreading on your face.

He looked towards you in awe, a smile creeping onto his face when he saw you smiling to yourself. He thought you looked absolutely incredible and he knew he was going to enjoy showing off 'his girl' to everyone there. He's always found you attractive but he never knew how to express it, he just hid behind teasing you and throwing flirtatious compliments here and there at you. He somewhat enjoyed getting a rise out of you, he liked the challenge that you offered, he was used to girls swooning at his feet but you were different. You were unlike any other girl, you had self respect which most didn't, you carried yourself so confidently and didn't put up with anyone's shit. Not even Rafe's. He loved how you always had something to say about whatever the case was, always defending yourself whenever necessary.

The party was only in the main building of the hotel the two of you were staying at, but the place was huge. There was a huge staircase leading to the party, you could hear the chatter of the people below you and the soft band music playing.

You looked towards Rafe and let out a huge sigh you didn't know you were holding in as you began walking down the stairs. When the people came into view, they all looked very posh, some were quite old and some were around yours and Rafe's age.

You spotted the bar and you were eager to get over there "can we please get a drink? I'm going to need one to get through tonight" you asked him, no matter what his answer was you were going to get one either way. A vodka coke would fill your craving and take away the stress you were feeling.

"one drink y/n, i can't have you drinking too much and messing this up" he told you, his voice stern and very serious sounding.

"Me?" you laughed, "your the one with a raging anger problem, sooo," you teased, slightly laughing to yourself. You looked up at Rafe and to your surprise he was actually laughing at your comment.

You two had reached the bar and you were patiently waiting for the bartender to serve you. You looked at the people who were sat around the bar, sipping on their glasses of what you assumed was champagne or Prosecco.

"what can i get for you guys?" the bartender asked, capturing your attention immediately.

Your mood instantly lightened, you could almost taste the vodka coke on the tip of your tongue, "please can i have a-"

Before you could even finish your sentence Rafe butted in, "two champagnes would be great"

The bartender nodded before collecting the glasses and going to fill them.

"what the hell" your voice raised slightly, frustrated at how Rafe literally spoke for you and didn't let you order yourself.

"what?" he asked, screwing his face up, wondering what you were so annoyed about.

you brushed your hair out of your face and lightly smiled at the bartender who had handed you guys your champagne, before speaking up, "i wanted a vodka coke, and i don't even like champagne" you pouted, still grabbing the glass a chugging down the pathetic amount of liquid they gave, hoping to feel some kind of buzz.

Rafe chuckled, watching you in amusement. You turned your head towards him and looked at him extremely unimpressed, "what's so funny?" you asked, looking at him as if there were daggers in your eyes.

"who's the one pouting now?" he teased, finishing off his champagne, looking at you and awaiting for your reaction.

You laughed, pushing him slightly, "oh shut up" you teased back, Rafe was looking at you with a sparkle in his eye, admiring your beautiful smile.

He led you around, stopping to talk to people you both knew, he did most of the talking about business just like he said he would. You just stood there, impressed by how much he knew about the topic, looking at him in admiration.

"someone's done there research" you nudged him lightly, trying to crack a joke.

He looked down at you and smirked, "well someone had to know what they were talking about"

You pouted at him a lightly shook your head, trying to hide the smile that you couldn't keep from crawling onto your face.

You both took a seat at your assigned table of two, getting ready to listen to the important people make their speeches. Rafe had told you the names of them but you didn't remember, not really very interested in the matter. You were just here to support your father's business, in hope to impress him. Although you didn't have to say much, you had actually learnt quite a lot from Rafe talking to everyone about both your father's business and how they share one together.

You found yourself admiring him every so often, not just how passionate he spoke of the topic but his beauty. You had really seen him in a different light after spending a long period of time with him. Despite knowing him for years the time you usually spent around each other was very short.

The waiters and waitresses handed out the appetizers which were disgusting. You and Rafe did try everything but neither of you particularly enjoyed any of them.

The speech people had already begun and the room was silent listening to them. You rested your chin in your hand, not understanding why everyone found what he was talking about so interesting.

"ma'am" you heard beside you, he captured your attention and you whipped your head quickly to look at him. It was a waiter handing out cocktails on tray, you turned the other way to see if Rafe had noticed. He had strictly told you one drink but he was so engaged in the man talking you grabbed the cocktail off the tray and mouthed a thank you to the man and he nodded in response.

You quickly put the straw to your lips and drank the beverage, the alcohol was prominent and took you by surprise. It had a lovely fruity taste and had the perfect amount of alcohol.

The sound of you slurping at the liquid captured Rafe's attention, he took the glass out of your hand and placed it on the table.

"where did you get that?" he whisper yelled, looking you straight in the face before his eyes traveled elsewhere. Straight to your cleavage, he licked his lips before looking at your face again.

You saw that he had gotten himself another drink but he wasn't as much of a lightweight compared to you. It didn't take much for you to be drunk and Rafe knew that.

"a waiter offered me it, he could clearly see i was in need of one" you flicked your hair off your shoulder and tucked it behind your ears so it was out of your face.

Rafe could sense your tipsiness and didn't fancy you making a fool of yourself in-front of all these people, "right let's go" he said, about to pull himself up from his chair.

You placed a gentle hand on top of his and your nails scratched at his skin gently, "'no no, i can see how much you want to listen, it's fine"

He looked at you with worried eyes, "i'm fine i promise" you reassured him, he nodded and took his attention back to the men speaking.

You never removed your hand from on top of his, still gently scratching at his skin, fiddling with his gold ring on his middle finger.

The waiter had come around again, this time with shots, you didn't want to annoy Rafe but you just couldn't fight the temptation. You quickly picked one up and downed it before placing it back on the tray and smiling at the waiter.

The alcohol was cursing through your veins, you craved the man next to you. You shuffled your chair towards him and whispered in his ear, "please can we go"

He looked towards you and watched as you placed a delicate hand on his broad shoulder, he nodded and grabbed your hand before leading you up the stairs and towards your room.

"did i tell you how hot you look tonight?" you asked him, the alcohol giving you more confidence and no self control. The grip on his arm tightening.

He looked at you and raised his eyebrows, not responding to your comment due to your drunken manner. He thought exactly the same about you, he just didn't know how to tell you.

You had reached your room and Rafe unlocked it with the key, he turned the light on before shutting the door behind you.

You felt a bit defeated by him not responding but you didn't care and just wanted to go to sleep. But Rafe grabbed you and pinned you against the door, "did i tell you how much i want to kiss you?" he asked, a huge smirk on his face.

You grabbed his face and connected your lips together.

Maybe you and Rafe got on better than you thought after all.

haven't edited sorry if it's bad xoxo

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

OMG! I’m so happy for you, 5K is so exciting and you deserve it so much. I (live laugh) loveeeeeee your writing style so so so so much and I’ve just about read every fic you’ve made like 30 times over. I have an idea for a Soap nsfw fic that I’ve been wanting to submit since I found your account and I think this is the perfect time.

Rivals to lovers? Soap and reader were cadets together during their training/pre-selection days of the SAS, they were both top of their “class” and would often try to one up one another? Despite that, they would have one another’s backs. Eventually, after SAS selection, they parted ways and maybe a few years later (just after the events of MW2 2022) they reconnect as they’re both assigned to a mission. Sexual tensions high after years of not seeing each other? and goes sideways and they have to end up staying at a safe house (One bed trope?) and then things escalate from there?

Thank you for opening your requests for this momentous occasion! I’m so so happy for you and I’m so so excited for the next work you put out!

—Still The Same Fools

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [There was always a rivalry between you two - that hasn't changed even if both of you have. Years later, the boiling point is finally met.] ❞

“I told you it was a bad idea,” you tilt your head, tightly wrapping your left thigh; bandages you pull harder, grunting as the flow of blood slows. 

The safehouse is cold—and it’s snowing outside worse than a shaken snow globe on a massage chair, flakes as big as your hand slapping the window. 

Johnny’s trying to start a fire, shoulders all wound up as you stare at his tension-ridden back. 

“MacTavish,” you call, glaring. “I’m talking to you.”

“Aye,” he grunts, flicking his lighter three times before the smallest of flames sparks up—he quickly moves it to the dry logs, letting it take to the kindling. “I have ears.”

You grimace, shaking your head. 

The history between the two of you was long—dating back to the days when you’d both signed up. You’d bled together, failed, and won together, even if the tensions were visible in the air as much as the long glances were. SAS selection had been the point where your clashing attitudes had been put on pause; things were getting more serious now—there was no going back. Only a year in you’d both seen the last of each other.

Or, you thought that at least.

A mission—Norway during a blizzard. Full coverage and the means of a Capture-Or-Kill.

“You want to explain to me why you still decided to rush in like that?” You push, voice digging. 

The room was weighed down by heat—not from the now sizzling fire itself but from the stiff look that’s passed your way. You blink, Soap’s blue eyes darker than they had been. With a low grunt, the usually sarcastic and blunt man stands, beginning to stalk over with hard steps. Bodies layered with sweat and grime, you release the shreds of the bandages around your bare thigh; pants half down your legs. 

Frowning, you ignore the soar in your heart rate and let him move up to the rickety chair you sit in, his hands coming down to lean into the armrests on either side of you. 

You hold back a gasp as his face is shoved into yours.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he utters, accent stiff, and both of your eyes battling one another for dominance that neither wants to give up. Two feral wolves at each other’s throats. “Maybe it was to make sure the old Hen of mine didn’t get herself killed.”

You snap back immediately, faces closer and breath puffing over skin. “You don’t trust me?”

“Never said that,” he grunts, stubble shifting into a frown.

You scoff, nose brushing against his as heads tilt. “Prove it. Because right now, I’m hearing a lot of bullshi—”

Lips smash into yours.

The affair that night was a rabid tangle of shed clothes and loose limbs, bare skin bloody and sweat-stained long before any action had even been taken. The wound at your thigh was of little concern as the fast shove of Johnny’s pelvis sent his cock dragging along the walls of your cunt. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, head tilting back to connect with the floor as the fire spreads light over the safehouse. “God, right there. Right there, Johnny.”

Your legs tighten around his waist, a thin stream of crimson moving down your flesh as the sound of slapping wet skin echoes over and over again. Like a loyal dog, the man smirks into your neck as he bites, sucking and groaning all the more as you tighten around him with a shiver of electricity working its way down your spine straight to your core.

You whine as he grabs your chin, glaring weakly until your glossy eyes blur the space behind his head.

“Like that, do you?” He teases, hand firm and unyielding. “Tell me you like it, Dearie.”

“Go,” you pant, fingers digging into his mohawk and pulling. Johnny’s blown pupils widen even farther, hips thrusting harder and making you moan in his hold—him doing the same, with a more cut-off version that would make a pornstar blush. You force out, “screw yourself.”

He feels you tighten even farther around him, his jaw clenching as his abdomen bunches, trying to hold off his approaching orgasm. 

“I think I’m enjoying this more, see,” he sloppily kisses the side of your mouth, licking at the skin. Everything about this was pent-up lust—messy sex in both the literal and metaphorical sense. 

His tip caresses your womb, pulling almost all the way out of you before jerking forward and grinding moments after. His pelvis massages your clit, textured walls like a noose trying to keep him in. Your fluids leak out to coat his thighs a nice shiny clear. Muscles glide over yours, the dip and swell of flesh addictive. 

A growl is sent into your face. 

“Pull my hair again.” You do so, listening to the animalistic groans as your body moves up and down on the floor, cutting off exhalations of air puffing out from open mouths.

“Harder,” your gasp, “fuck me harder, Sergeant.”

A hand slams into the wood beside your head, the other moving to press into your stomach. You nearly cry when you can feel his cock hammering against the thin flesh of your abdomen. 

You tighten around him and arch your back, lips brushing against his as you strangle down a loud plea for release. Your fingers latch and twist Johnny’s head to the side as the cord in your snaps.

“Fuck,” Johnny draws out the curse, eyes rolling back as you bare down on him ruthlessly, thighs tense and stained with blood and cum as your orgasm seeps violently down the swell of them. 

He follows with a loud gasp, letting you feel the gush of his spend as it fills you to the brim, leaking out with every failing cant of his hips into yours.

The man loosens and lets his limp head hit your shoulder, body shaking as he stays above you only enough to keep his full weight from crushing you. It’s a long time before either of you find the words to speak.

“Round two?” Johnny asks. 

You blink and feel the small sparks of pain in your thigh. It was nothing serious.

“Yeah,” you shrug, voice breathless and cunt spasming. “Why not.”

[ataraxiaspainting]

New Dawn.

Scaramouche x GN Reader.

Synopsis: Kuni brews tea.

Word Count: 700.

inspired by this concept by @ddarker-dreams <3

*~*~*~*

“Hello? Teyvat to Kuni? I repeat, Teyvat to Kuni?” He keeps grimacing in the corner of the kitchen with his arms crossed. His scowl only deepens and he points to the crime. A bowl of sugarcubes beside your freshly brewed cup of tea.

You guess you’re a criminal now in his world.

“Teyvat to Kuni this, Teyvat to Kuni that, you know why I am mad at you, you little sh-”

“Hey, language. You know I like my drinks sweet.”

He jumped up from his wooden stool when you put a few cubes in like you had just set the table on fire, running to hide from the utterly horrifying scene.

“So?” He responds, stomping his foot down with a huff and puff. “This is an insult, [First]; an insult to me, the tea kettle, the water, the fire, the cultivators, the sellers-”

“So, sit down. You have to think about other people’s points of view sometimes.”

“No.”

“Kuni, you are acting like you are two years old. If you keep doing this I am going to make you drink it.”

“Over my dead body.” He mutters. “I’d shrivel up and die, come back as an undead, and tell the people who sold me the tea leaves that you are putting shame on their name.”

“You are so dramatic. Just because you like bitter drinks does not mean I have to too. Tell me, if this was reversed, would you be mad at me for drinking black tea and not putting a mountain of sugar in my cup?”

“N-No! Of course not.”

You smirk at his stutter.

“Correct. And why not?”

His expression sullens even more at this question. You got him; hook, line, and sinker.

“...Because… Archons, you are annoying. You can’t just swap our places like that. Argh. Sigh. Because… it’s wrong. Everyone has their own tastes. There, you happy? I said what you wanted me to.”

Your smile broadens, stretching from ear to ear.

“Very happy. Now sit down, your tea is getting cold. I know you have no care for cold things. That’s why you like me.”

In a fleeting instant, Kuni's hand instinctively shields his face, though you could've sworn you glimpsed your partner concealing a smitten grin. A noticeable crimson flush paints his cheeks, as he averts his gaze from you, searching the kitchen aimlessly. A faint rosy tint lingers on his ears, accompanied by a twinkle in his eye.

“Cute.”

“S-Shut up.” He says, his voice barely audible. “N-Not.” You can't help but smile as he stumbles over his words twice more. “Take that back this instant.”

“I don’t think I will.”

He stomps back to the table and sits down. You win.

“You’re pouting.” You yelp as his leg clashes with one of your defenseless ones. A kick, huh? Well, two can play that game.

“You’re so–Hey!”

While still hiding his face, he lets out a mocking laugh.

“Oh no you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t just do that.”

At your chuckle, he stands up once more and goes around the table to your side.

“Uh oh.”

In the blink of an eye, your back meets the ground. He is on top of you with eyes sharp enough to cut a rock in half. He’s not happy.

“Confess your sins,” He says, his face now sporting a smirk of his own. Though his blush is still there, and now visible because he cannot hide it as he pins you to the floor. “And I’ll let you drink your abomination of a beverage. Maybe.”

“Oh no,” You feign innocence as you shake your head. Kuni scoffs. Adorable. “Please, oh great and all-knowing Kunikuzushi, bless me for I have sinned by having functioning taste buds.”

One of his hands chops at your forehead, making you cry out bloody murder. “Archons, you are all bark and no bite.”

“So? The same can be said about you.”

“No.”

No?

…He does not plan to leave you here all day until you are actually sorry, does he?

[lottie1824]

i wish you would write a fic on….landoscar rivals in a championship battle

or

i wish you would write a fic on…bearnelli at ferrari and mercedes being the second drivers and working together to get through the emotional pressures

Ask Game:

Send me an anymous (or not) summary of the fic you wish I would write. (maybe I will write a tidbit)

Hello Anon, thanks for the ask 🧡 I hope you like what I came up with and if anyone wants to take the ideas and run with them then go ahead

Landoscar championship battle:

I'm going to give my thoughts first of all on the scenario. There would be angst and miscommunication. It would be a fierce battle on track between them both with the potential to have a couple of clashes and when they realise that they are in a championship battle together, Oscar sensibly suggests that they should put their relationship on hold for the time being. Something happens in the middle of the season where one of them has what looks like a bad crash (like Lando's Vegas one last year) and they realise that actually the championship isn't more important than what they had started to build off the track.

"You can't just make a move like that down the inside!" Lando yelled, furious ever since his boyfriend, could he still call Oscar his boyfriend, had crashed them both out of the race.

"Lando," Oscar responded calmly, refusing to let any anger that he may feel, bubble out of him. "The door was open for me, I had all the right to attempt that move. It was only once that I was fully alongside you that you closed the door. I know that your frustrated but yelling at me isn't gonna get you anywhere?"

"Of course you have to try and take the moral high ground," Lando all but spat. "Always trying to be the goody two shoes. Doesn't always translate to on track unfortunately."

Oscar forced himself to take a deep breath to try and hold the tears at bay that were threatening to slip out. He knew that Lando was frustrated at them both and unfortunately had the tendency to take out his frustrations on something. Usually it was a pillow or something similar however this time it seemed that Oscar was the target. Even though he tried not to show it, Lando's words were hurting him.

"I think we should take a break," Oscar said quietly. "From our relationship. That and the title fight clearly can't work alongside each other so we should break it off until the end of the season."

With that, Oscar all but ran out of the room, not stopping to see that his words had hit Lando like a ton of bricks. Not seeing that Lando was watching him leave, frozen solid, tears beginning to roll down his face as the gravity of what had happened began to sink in.

Bearnelli:

First come the thoughts. Both of them get seats for the 2025 season after Lewis ends up retiring at the end of 2024 due to an injury sustained towards the end of the season. Ollie gets promoted immediately into the Ferrari seat. They both had seats at top teams and that should be that right? Wrong. Immediately the pressure begins to press down upon them until they begin to crack. There's only so much one person can take until they break completely. Kimi breaks first. Breaks down in Ollie's arms after a dnf due to mechanical failure. After that, instead of them both dealing with the weight alone, they bare each other's as well, making it much more manageable. Come the end of the season their support of each other has led them to getting more points than their respective teammates

Ollie could sense that something was off with Kimi. It had been for a while. There would be periods where Ollie would happen upon him, just staring into space with a vacant expression on his face. He was much more jumpy and on more than one occasion, Ollie suspected that he had interrupted Kimi crying. Yet Kimi hadn't said a word.

So, it surprised Ollie when he heard a knock on his hotel room door just past midnight. It hadn't woken him up as he couldn't get to sleep. For the past few hours he'd just been staring at the ceiling, his mind whirring with what could have been in the qualifying session.

When the knocking came again, more urgent this time, Ollie hurried out of bed and to the door, wondering who on earth wanted him at this time of night.

He opened it to find Kimi stood there tears streaming down his cheeks. Without thinking Ollie immense scooped Kimi up into his arms.

"It's okay baby, I've got you know." He didn't know where the pet name came from but there was time later to analyse it.

[kairiscorner]

spider noir with a reader with thick thighs??? overall fluff of course!! but having a loving partner who loves every part of their partner's body is nice👉👈

OOOOOO WONDERFUL IDEA ANON! here ya go, i hope it's any good <: ) and hoping you all feel loved about yourselves, just as you all deserve to feel <333

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

summary: peter's always had fantasies of lying down on your soft lap, but he's never worked up the courage to ask you completely, and when he does get the chance, he holds back in fear of weighing you down too much. but you reassure him, and he feels feelings too good that he doesn't have any words for it, except–

word count: 1,264

if there was anything peter always found himself looking forward to at the end of his day, it's always coming home to you, his lovely partner. no matter how bad his day got, seeing you and hearing your symphony of a voice to him is all it takes to make him forget about his worries and frustrations.

"i'm home, love." he'd always call out as he sets his gray fedora on the coat stand and hangs his dark gray coat on it as well. you'd always return the greeting with a "welcome home!" and a "how was your day, dear?" just hearing the sweet words coming from your honey-like voice was cathartic for him already; he could feel the weight being lifted off his shoulders when he hears you.

and as if right on cue, you were seated on the couch, with your soap opera about to come on in a few minutes. your beaming smile when you saw peter lightened up his mood immediately. you got up from the couch and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"welcome home, love." you greeted him as you nuzzled your face into his chest. he chuckled at your eagerness to greet him, and he kissed the top of your head. "had a good day?" you asked him as you took his hand and sat down on the couch, with him following you and sitting down alongside you. "i did now that i'm back home with you." he teased you as he kissed your cheek, with you giggling slightly at the contact.

"oh, peter. ever the tease." you said as peter relaxed into the sofa, his arm behind your back as he laid it on the back rest's top. you leaned against him as your soap opera came on. peter looked down at you and smirked to himself, then his eyes wandered down farther to the lower parts of your body, down to your lap; one of all his favorite parts of you. he couldn't focus much on the soap opera anymore, and instead, he fought the urge to want to ask you if he could lay down on your lap and maybe knead the flesh of your inner thighs, caress them as much as he wished because he seriously could not help himself. just gazing at and lying down on them weren't enough, he wanted to really feel them in his hands, and tickle you, even.

peter had always admired the way you looked and presented yourself, the most effective way to rile him up would be to wear smaller skirts, or if you were really confident, a pair of shorts that showed off your thighs. peter's favorite part of you, apart from every other part on your body, were your thighs; they were just so supple and soft, they were so heavenly and so alleviating to rest upon, at least in his mind. he thought acts like this were way too intimate, however, and that he had no right to just jump in and lie down on you without asking you.

it wouldn't be his first time fantasizing about relaxing on your lap, but he worried he'd be too heavy for you, considering how much taller he was than you and how built he was, he didn't want you to do anything that would discomfort you so. but you noticed peter's unfocused gaze from the television and looked at him, and his gaze met yours.

he was blushing, red and pink clashed on his cheeks, all the way up to the tips of his ears. he cleared his throat. "so, they figured out who the protagonist's true foil is, hmm?" he asked as he folded his leg over the other as he moved closer to you, and you smiled as you shook your head. "it's a romcom, peter." you reminded him, to which he adjusted his glasses and blushed a deeper hue than before and let out a low chuckle.

"ah, but you see, my love, the modern romcoms nowadays are... a lot more action-packed now, and, uh..." he blabbered as he fumbled over his words, his eyes still looking down at your plush lap, with you smirking slyly at peter as you put your thumb on his chin and turned his head to the side to look at you square in the face. "you fancy laying on my lap, peter? maybe... touching my thighs?" you teased him further as he watched you angle your thighs a little higher, and peter noticed, they were thicker than he imagined them to be.

"oh sweet heavens..." peter found himself muttering as he inched closer to you, trying to get a better eyeful of your beautifully sculpted legs, wanting to knead the fat of them, to lie down on them as if they were the softest pillows on the finest bed on earth. you giggled. "you can do more than just stare, pete." you told him, to which peter jolted up and looked at you with his blushing, dorky smile.

"you... mean it?" he asked you in disbelief as you nodded with a smile. you gently patted your lap and pulled his hand softly. "come, peter, you've had a long day. let me help you rest." you said with a sweet smile as peter hesitantly, but happily, leaned down close to your lap, jaggedly moving downwards to lie down on you, trying not to put all of his weight on you as he finally made contact with your lap.

peter couldn't believe it, he ran his hand across your right thigh, feeling your skin underneath his palm, the warmth that came from it and the smoothness of it, the suppleness of the flesh... it all felt so real. so real, and so fantastic to peter. he smiled wider as he turned his head to look at you. "you're holding back, aren't you?" you asked him as you put your hand on his cheek. "what do you mean?" he asked you as your hand moved to his hair, running your hand through his dark locks, massaging his scalp, which caused him to relax more, releasing a sigh he hadn't realized he'd been holding in.

"you're obviously keeping yourself up still, you're not really lying down." you point out as you gently lay peter's head down on your lap, him mumbling some words of excuse, which you shush and just keep telling him to rest on you. "just lay on me, you're not that heavy, pete." you reassured him as you rubbed your hand over his forehead, relaxing him further as he let out a much needed sigh yet again.

"i'm in heaven. truly, utterly, in heaven. and i have no idea what i did to deserve this heaven..." he muttered as you giggled. you bent over and gave his lips a small kiss, with him kissing you back as he muttered yet again an, "i love you too much to bear".

"every part of you is amazing, dear..." he remarked as he rubbed over your thighs and looked up at you, grinning. "but your thighs... oh, they captivate me all too well. they're my... favorite, truly favorite, part about you." he remarked as he smirked up at you, blushing deeply as he lay back on your lap, peacefully. he was forgetting his gripes and pains from today, and just taking in the long, lovely moment of lying there on your lap; just being with you and only you, admiring you all the while as he runs a hand over your lap, rubbing circles into them with a content smile.

a/n: MMMMMMMM THICK 👏 THIGHS 👏 SAVE 👏 LIVES 👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @connors-cumslurper @maxoloqy

[bougiebutchbinch]

Hey hai, sorry for the long ask but I wanted to hand deliver a snippet to you if that's okay, cus I'm half way through the stone trans top logan fic and am way too excited to finish it (obviously you don't have to post this, I'm just writin for sillys :3 and I wish I could put a -read more- cut in an ask)

Logan was sick and tired of Wade. Well, not Wade, he could never get tired of Wade, he was tired of Wade's non-stop never-ending jokes. Well, some of the jokes-

Dammit he was pissed off at Wade's sex jokes.

He was always putting jokes everywhere where they didn't belong and usually Logan just ignored him, but in the past few days the jokes were getting less and less varied in their subject. All about how good a fuck would be and all the things he would do to Logan in bed and Logan had to stop himself from growling whenever the man even joked about his dick anywhere near Logan.

Sure it wasn't Wade's fault he felt his way, but nothing was going inside him, and that was final.

And one night they were down at a bar, neither drinking much, Logan needed to cut down on his alcohol and Wade was enjoying sipping at his stupid fruity cocktail.

He scowled as he brought his beer back up to his lips.

Wade had brought his suit mask, pulled up to his nose as he sipped, wearing some shitty hawiian shirt or oter, obnoxious kahki shorts that clashed horrendously, knee high white socks with sneakers, and he didnt know what the fuck kinda look wade was going for but it sure was something, logan just chose to come out in his flannel and tank top and jeans, his outfit he felt most comfortable in, although the jeans were pissing him the hell off too, maybe that was just because they couldnt hold the shape of his packer and it looked like he had no dick, he really hated to admit how self concoius he felt going round outside when he felt he didnt look right.

But he could distract himself from those feelings by letting himself get pissed off by wade.

Wade, who now he had tuned back into the mans ramblings, he realised he was talking about logan, apparently his favourite topic of conversation,

“Y’know I'm not a natural bottom, but I'd be willing to do anything for you, babygirl!”

Logan just turned his head round very slowly, ever so slight fuzz of alcohol feeling comforting instead of drowning,

“Yeah yeah haha, real funny wade.”

Wade looked over at him with a grin, this was the first time Logan replied to him all night,

“Who said I was joking peanut?”

Logan hesitated for a moment before scoffing,

“Take off your mask and look me in the eyes while you say that and I might just believe you.”

SKDJFGKLJDSFGSDF I AM ABOUT TO GO TO UNI YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO MEEEE

I have to sit in lectures all day and pretend I'm not thinking about Wade getting absolutely fucking WRECKED. this is going to haunt me. haunt me. :screams:

Also I love how every time Wade says 'not a natural bottom' you can just TELL he is lying. The lady doth protest too much, etc. etc. etc.

Logan's packer-woes are relatable, lmaoooo. I love him and I am so excited for this. Seriously. Thank you and everyone else who's also latched onto this headcanon - having more rep with the character I'm majorly projecting onto really does mean the world!

I can tell this fic is gonna be great fun already.... I can't wait.

[jenniferlawrencelover]

All I Want For Christmas is You (Deadpool Edition)-CHAPTER ONE

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Logan Howlett/Worst! Wolverine

Rating: Explicit (MDNI)

Summary:

Wade never thought he would be engaged again.

And he wasn’t.

Yet.

Wade never thought he would be engaged again.

And he wasn't.

Yet.

*

DAYS UNTIL CHRISTMAS: 26

"Bub, if you don't move your ass out of my face—"

"You weren't saying that last night, sugar butt," Wade shot back with a grin, wiggling his hips just to be annoying. He was balanced precariously on a stepladder, trying to hang a glittery, excessively large tree topper. It was a special ornament to Wade because it was the first thing Wade had stolen for Logan after he saw it in the window of some fancy-ass home decor shop downtown. Wade knew that Logan would absolutely hate it, and therefore he knew he just had to have it. It helped that technically he was already banned from this particular store, because what were they going to do? Ban him again? You can't double-ban him.

Logan did call the cops on him for theft when he brought it home because he's an asshole, but that was neither here nor there.

The ladder wobbled as Wade pushed up to his tiptoes, and Logan's hand shot out and held onto Wade's legs to keep him from toppling over. "You're gonna knock the whole damn tree over," Logan grumbled, eyeing the ornament that Wade was determined to hang despite it being several sizes too big for the spot.

"But think about how majestic it'll look!" Wade finally managed to secure the topper, hopping down from the ladder with a flourish. "Voila!"

Wade took a step back, admiring their work. The tree was a monstrosity of clashing colors and mismatched ornaments. Some baubles dangled precariously from flimsy branches, while others were wedged in tight clusters as if a miniature ornament explosion had occurred. The base was an overstuffed jumble of tinsel, clashing with the bold, mismatched garlands draped haphazardly across its branches. The strands of lights, a patchwork of different colors and sizes, flickered erratically as if they were struggling to make sense of their tangled surroundings. At one point, Wade had seen a spark come from a few of the bulbs, but he was sure that wouldn't be a plot point that was of anything of importance (hint: it was).

The ornaments themselves were oversized, glittery baubles in electric blue and neon pink, intermixed with tiny glass figurines of reindeer and snowmen that seemed to be fighting for space on the same branch. A collection of homemade ornaments—some crafted with excessive amounts of glue and glitter, and all created by moi—were proudly displayed, hanging at odd angles. Among these were paper angels and beaded snowflakes that had clearly seen better days.

At the top of the tree, the crowning glory was the topper Wade had stubbornly hung—a massive, shimmering star that looked like it had been stolen from a Vegas showgirl's headdress. It was practically drowning in sparkles and sequins, casting a dazzling, if somewhat blinding, light that flickered across the room.

The tree skirt, a gaudy mishmash of red and green sequins, was barely visible under the heap of presents Wade had insisted on wrapping in overly festive, holiday-themed paper with garish ribbons. The whole setup was completed with a few hastily strewn candy canes and an abundance of stray glitter that would inevitably find its way into every crevice of their apartment.

Logan crossed his arms, his eyebrows knitted together in a familiar expression of disapproval. "It's an eyesore."

"An eyesore?" Wade exclaimed, feigning shock. "This is a masterpiece! You know, people pay big bucks for this kind of thing."

Logan snorted, unconvinced. "People like you, maybe. I've seen better decorations at a fucking dollar store."

Wade reached up to adjust a strand of lights that had come loose, his fingers deftly rearranging them until they were just right. "Well, I think she's beautiful. And if you will be a good Wolvie and actually help me, maybe later you can even stuff my stocking."

"You're fucking disgusting," Logan snarled.

Wade grinned cheekily, still fiddling with the decorations. "Oh, come on. It's Christmas. I'm just trying to spread a little holiday cheer." He glanced at Logan with a mischievous glint in his eye. "And I know how much you love my festive cheer."

"And by that-"

"And by that, I mean this sweet, sweet ass sugar gum drop," Wade crooned, tucking himself into Logan's warm, broad chest. They stood there for a moment, the soft glow of the Christmas lights casting a warm mirage of light over the room. Wade sighed contentedly, his head resting against Logan's chest. Logan didn't reply, but his arms tightened around Wade.

"You know, we should probably christen the tree properly," Wade remarked, eyes fixated on the flickering lights.

Wade was a huge fan of christening things. Everything had to be christened. Everything. New suit after it was destroyed in a particular marathon of rough sex after a mission? Christened. Logan finally upgraded from a flip phone to an iPhone? Christened. Just bought milk? Christened. 

Did it have to do with the fact that his boyfriend had a body sculpted by the gods and a libido that could match a rabbit high on an aphrodisiac? No, and actually, it's offensive that you would think Wade would reduce his boyfriend down to his sex appeal. What kind of monster do you think he is? Wade's relationship with Logan was multi-faceted, like a diamond with a thousand facets—

You know what? Fine. So what? Is it a crime that Wade likes to have long, raunchy, maybe a little masochistic, probably a little too rough for Disney, outdo-50-Shades-of-Grey-and-eat-your-heart-out-BDSM-etiquette sex with his boyfriend? It's not like Logan's complaining—well, except when he pretends to be exasperated with Wade, which is just part of his charm. Get off his ass, or maybe eat it while you're down there.

Wade's lips brushed Logan's ear as he whispered in a sultry, teasing voice, "Maybe a few strategic baubles to enhance the mood. I could even drape some tinsel over us like a sexy holiday blanket. Just me, you, some eggnog—"

"You mean that shit you made in the blender? I don't think eggnog is supposed to be that color."

"It's a festive green. Besides, I added extra nutmeg. Trust me."

Logan gave him an unconvinced look, clearly not buying it.

"Come on," Wade whined, turning around in Logan's arms and pouting up at him. "It's Christmas-"

"It's not Christmas, it's November."

"-I've even put up some Mistletoe. Are you really willing to disrespect the ritualistic customs of Mistletoe? What kind of monster are you?" Wade says aghast, clutching at the invisible pearls.

Logan didn't respond at first, his gaze scanning the room before flickering back to Wade. "I don't see any mistletoe."

Wade wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, his grin widening. "It's hidden. Wanna take off my pants and find out where?"

Snikt

[baldurs-gape]

Seven Minutes in Hell

Bulettes were plain rude and that was putting it mildly. It wasn't enough that they appeared, caused trouble and left before they could be killed, they also left parts of the path dangerously unstable. This Gale unfortunately found out first hand. One moment he was picking his way over what he thought was a path while lecturing Astarion on the merits of having clothes dyed a single colour than the monstrosity of clashing that the vampire spawn was sporting, and the next the world was lurching and falling from under his feet.

Hitting the ground hard, Gale was winded and he coughed, letting out a groan as rubble settled on and around him.

"Well, this is inconvenient," he grumbled and tried to look around. It was pitch black but an all too familiar scoff of a laugh was reassuring rather than annoying for a change.

"Is this what you'd call inconvenient? I dread to think what your definition of a drastardly nightmare is." There was the sound of rocks and earth shifting. "Well, I can't smell the acrid stench of your blood so I'm guessing it's all in your body, where it's supposed to be?"

Taking stock of himself, Gale had to agree with Astarion. Aside from a few scrapes and what will probably turn into bruises that would rival the colours of the myconid colony, he was surprisingly intact. Coughing for good measure, he nodded - which wasn't very helpful in the dark.

"Yes, I'm okay, thank you. How are you?"

"Just peachy! I've always wanted to be stuck under some collapsed path with a catankerous wizard I like to fuck to keep quiet as my sole source of company."

Harsh. Actually, that kind of hurt and Gale wished he could see Astarion, just so he could glare. "You don't complain anywhere near this much when you're stuck balls deep in my hole."

"Yes, well, they do say that outside a wizard a book is man's best friend. Because inside it is too dark to read."

Something niggled at Gale's mind about that. Too dark...Astarion's sight was so much better than his in the dark but if there was no light what so ever... "Astarion, are you scared of the dark? I can make a bit of light."

"Don't!"

It was too late, a soft glow illuminated the pocket of space they were in. Nothing more than a small gap between rocks piled on top of them and Gale had to swallow thickly. Best to think of something else. Like the way Astarion was curled up and covering his face, eyes squeezed shut, less than a handspan from him.

"It's okay. Starling, look at me. Please."

As always, Astarion did as Gale wished. For all his obstinancy, somehow Gale had wriggled his way into his trust. What Gale didn't expect was to be met with wide, terrified eyes. They tracked around the rocks, taking in just how small and confined they were, not enough space to stand up, to stretch out, to do much other than maybe wriggle a bit closer to each other if they didn't mind their limbs tangling.

"Starling?" The nickname had Astarion staring back at Gale, eyes wide with terror. Trembling set in a second later. "Oh little star. It'll be okay."

Astarion shook his head vehemently and closed his eyes tight again. Even though his breathing had stopped, Gale could still see the other telltale signs of an impeding panic. Reaching out, he gave Astarion's ankle a squeeze.

"We're getting out of here. Karlach if probably already lifting rocks while Wyll is telling her what to lift next to keep us safe."

He might as well have been talking to the sole of his own foot for the difference it made. The soft whimper as Astarion tried to curl up tighter was heartbreaking. In all their time together, not once had Gale see him reduced to something less than an arrogant, insufferable bastard who he'd grown to dote on. This was, well, it was concerning to say the least.

"Come here." Heart soft as ever, he wriggled to try and get closer to Astarion. As he pulled his legs free, the rocks above them shifted and Gale found himself squeezed up against Astarion. What little room they had became that much smaller. "Would it help if I put the lights out?"

Astarion shook his head, nodded then shook his head again.

"You're okay." Words raspy and thin, Astarion didn't raise his head from where it had burrowed into Gale's shoudler.

Of course Gale was okay, they'd already established that. He wriggled to wrap an arm around Astarion's waist and pulled him in.

"I'm okay. You're okay."

Looking around in the small space, Gale couldn't help but shiver. It really was cramped, his legs were already sore from being tucked under him. The silent panic from Astarion wasn't leaving him unaffected. Small mercies that only he needed to breathe of the two of them. Air was a precious commodity, stale and dusty as it was. Which wasn't a good line of thinking to go down, not when he started trying to guess just how much longer he could survive there. At least his lights weren't like regular fire and eating up air. But when air was going to become scarce, he was going to have to stop casting. Which was quite possibly what Astarion was meaning.

"Want to tell me what you're so scared of?"

Astarion's head rose and looked around at the earth and rocks. At the same time, Gale couldn't help but wonder what he was seeing because it wasn't the look of someone in the present.

"I- I can't do it again. Not again." His voice was a trembling whisper and hands dug into Gale in a desperate clutch. "The grave. The coffin. Now this. And you."

If only Gale had pushed to know more about Astarion's past, this all might have made more sense. For now all he could do was nod. "You don't have to. As soon as there's a gap, you take a potion of gaseous form and I'll misty step after you."

"Can't. No space. No air. You'll die." Gale's words might as well have fallen on deaf ears. "I don't want to sit with your body."

Perhaps it was for the best that Gale didn't mention that in the eventuality of his demise the orb was going to blow them all clear of the cave-in anyway. Though nobody was surviving that. Instead, he gave Astarion a squeeze.

"We'll be out long before that happens. Until then I'm right here, keeping the lights on."

"I scratched to get out. Broke my nails, wore them bloody. Screamed and shouted. Nobody came."

"Karlach and Wyll are coming. I promise. And I'm here, I'm not leaving you."

"Promise?"

Heart breaking, Gale nodded. "Of course. I promise. You're not alone. Never again."

Rather than the anger that perhaps would have been in Astarion' voice before, it was now just broken. "Don't make promises you can't keep. Once you know the truth. What I did. Who I served."

Absolutely not the time to have such a conversation and Gale tried his best to redirect it by pressing a kiss to the top of Astarion's head. "That's a hurdle for the future. It doesn't sound like an easy topic. And once you know me, you may not want me to stick around, ever thought of that?"

A small shake of head and Gale let out a soft sigh. Sex was so much easier when emotions didn't get entangled in it. Alas, he was a begger for love so couldn't choose so to speak. This was his lot now.

Above them the rocks shifted and they were showered with dirt and pebbles as things moved. Astarion ducked in closer to Gale with another whimper.

"Fangs! Magic man! Great thinking with the light."

"Karlach, good to see you again." Gale smiled and tried not to notice how Astarion was staring at the gap to freedom with singular focus. "Think you could pass a potion of gaseous form down?"

"Right-o. I'll take this with me." With that, she disappeared from view and took another rock with her, leaving a bigger gap.

A knee to his ribs and the pressure of a foot on his calf was the first sign of something changing. Gale left out an 'ooft' as Astarion all but used him as a springboard in a mad scramble to get out. It wasn't graceful or elegant, pure desperation made him push his limits. For a second it looked as though he wouldn't make it, rocks tumbled under his foot as he tried to pull himself out but with a heave and a grunt he was out. As promised, Gale was only a misty step behind.

Astarion was on his knees and leaned over, head pressed to the ground, gasping big, unnecessary heaves. Tentatively, Gale crouched and laid a hand on his back.

"We're out. It's okay."

Next to them, Wyll and Karlach looked on as Astarion pulled himself together, layers of haughty indifference built up in front of their eyes as he visibly hardened.

"Let's never do that again." He pulled a dagger from his belt. "We have a bulette to kill. I want revenge."

[magnus-the-maqnificent]

prompt: malec and the gang having korean bbq, everyone look in puzzled as magnus the one who do the grilling and then just put everything in alec plate

Anh? Actually sending a decent prompt for once? More likely than you think 😳

Read on ao3

****

Maybe it was the six glasses of soju, maybe it was the atmosphere - the restaurant lit like a 90’s bar, the blue aquariums lining the walls full of colourful fish (a sight that made Alec miss his children - Max and Rafael would’ve adored them), the music playing through the speakers of the restaurant and the smell of hot sizzling meat - but Alec was feeling especially smitten today.

Or maybe it was the love of his life looking particularly sexy today, wearing a powder blue silk shirt with the top few buttons left undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was a little looser than usual, a few stray locks falling in front of his face. His eyeliner was sleek and sharp, and lips pursed in intense concentration as he flipped some shrimp on the grill.

Alec was just content to watch him for now, chin propped up on a palm, hearts in his eyes.

They had come out for Korean barbecue - him and Magnus, and Jace and Clary and Isabelle and Simon - because it was the weekend, and because Isabelle thought it’d be fun to go out on a ‘triple date’, and because Jace and Magnus had clashed on what kind of food they wanted and Korean barbecue ultimately met both their needs.

Alec could hear the chatter of conversation between the others, but his eyes were only on Magnus, who was now busy rolling a piece of shrimp and some pickled garlic in lettuce, which he then dipped in some chilli oil and held out to Alec.

“Say ahhh.”

Alec rolled his eyes but complied anyway, letting Magnus feed him. The taste of crisp lettuce hit him first, and then the chilli and the shrimp and everything else, the flavour while literally bursting into Alec’s mouth.

Magnus smiled, no doubt enjoying what he called Alec’s “foodgasm face”.

“Good?”

“Mmhmm,” Alec nodded, a hand coming up to cover his mouth as he chewed. Despite himself, he couldn’t help but smile a little.

Magnus feeding him had become something of a habit between them. It was a result of Alec’s long work days that blended into nights in an extra office Magnus had summoned up for him inside their apartment, plus Magnus’s persistent desire for himself and everyone around him to eat well, particularly a minimum of three meals a day minimum.

So, these days, when Alec tended to answer ‘you should eat something’ with some variation of ‘later’ more than three times in a row, Magnus would simply sigh and summon up a plate of food and a stool next to Alec’s chair. He’d feed Alec until the plate was left empty, sometimes with chopsticks, sometimes with a fork or spoon, sometimes with his fingers, carefully wiping away any excess left on Alec’s lips afterwards.

It was probably not something to get used to, and Alec might have to put a stop to it sooner or later, but screw him - he had a repressed childhood and loved being pampered.

Right now, Magnus was feeding him a second helping of a lettuce roll with shrimp, when someone cleared their throat from across the table.

“Are we going to get some, too, or are you just going to feed Alec everything?” Jace pouted.

Alec snorted, “I’m pretty sure you can assemble your own rolls, Jace.”

“Okay, one,” Jace protested, “you can assemble your own too, and two, I’d be doing it right now if Magnus hadn’t dumped all the cooked shrimp onto your plate.”

Alec looked down at his plate, and - yep, there was a heap of shrimp on there.

Magnus sighed, looking long-suffering. “I put on another batch for you guys, they’ll be cooked soon.”

“What if you’re too busy cooing over Alec and they burn?” Jace narrowed his eyes.

“I keep telling you I can grill-“ Isabelle butt in.

“Oh, it’s fine- I mean- Magnus has way more experience so-“ Clary interrupted, steering the evening clear of disaster. 

Isabelle sighed and leaned back in her chair. “When will the world appreciate my talent?”

“I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with any of this,” Simon muttered to no one in particular. The waitstaff had kindly procured pre-grilled vegetarian alternatives for him, which included grilled mushrooms, tofu and pineapple slices. 

Simon hadn’t touched the pineapples so far. Alec didn’t think he was planning on doing so either.

Magnus sighed, “I won’t let them burn. Also, you can have the first serving of brisket.”

Jace seemed satisfied with that offer, and busied himself with the glass noodles they had served as a side.

Magnus paused to flip the shrimp on the grill, and then turned his attention back to Alec, assembling another roll and holding it out for him.

Alec shook his head. “You should eat too, love.”

“You first, babygirl,” Magnus grinned.

Alec rolled his eyes again, but how could he ever refuse?