#i drift tonight carried by the waves

[siphonharapeco]

[heich0e]

"can i call you later?"

the wind bites at your cheeks, but the sting you feel is as much from the smile on your face as it is from the chill.

"dunno," you muse, pursing your lips as though you're contemplating the question deeply. "can you?"

rintarou groans, but the sound isn't half as plaintive as it ought to be. you watch as his head hangs down defeatedly where his frame is folded over the railing that lines the front of the train station, his body pitched forward over the barrier like he's trying to reach you on the other side.

you've been saying goodbye for the past twenty minutes—or, you've been trying to. sort of. maybe. the train you'd planned to catch has already come and gone, and the next is set to soon arrive. one more and it will be the last of the night, but not even knowing that fact seems to be moving you closer towards the door to the station—content to stay here, like this, as the wind of the late fall night nips at your cheeks and the two of you muddle through your goodbye with the inelegance of two people who couldn't be less committed to it if they tried.

rintarou lifts his head to meet your gaze.

"i mean it, though." he says. "can i call you tonight?"

your stomach flips when he looks at you this way. when he keeps looking at you this way.

"we just spent hours together," you remind him, but your words are too breathy to make impact. too elated to be reproachful.

you've been on three dates with rintarou now. you think they're dates anyway, though it's never explicitly been stated. his invitations are always casual, sandwiched in between all the other texts he sends to you these days, so you might be reading into things too closely for your own good. but dinner doesn't just feel like dinner when rintarou has this way of looking at you like you're the only person he's ever laid his eyes on.

"i know," he answers. it's not an explanation, or an excuse, or even an apology. it's plain acceptance. a shamelessness you find wretchedly endearing.

you glance back at the station behind you, biting the inside of your cheek to temper your delight.

"my train is coming," you say.

he looks a bit crestfallen. laughably glum, considering the circumstances.

you drag the heel of your shoe back ever so slightly, not quite a step—at least not in any meaningful way—but inching in the direction of the doors at a glacial pace. continental drift seems positively hasty in comparison to your retreat.

"bye," he calls, his tone dejected. you watch as he lifts his hand weakly, still slumped over the railing, and waves at you with only a few fingers raised.

you want to laugh, but your chest is so full of something else—something syrupy and fluttering and good—that it's like there's no space for it underneath your ribs.

you call back to him just before you step into the station.

"rintarou—"

there are other people around, stepping between and around you both—rushing into the station to escape the cold, or moving briskly as they brace themselves and step out into it—but you hardly notice them when your eyes meet.

you smile.

"—call me later."

he calls you almost every night after that.

even as the cool autumn winds change with the seasons; carrying flakes of snow as winter blankets nagano, warming with the spring, turning heavy with humidity in summer, and then repeating the cycle anew.

even as your reluctant goodbyes turn from late nights outside of train stations to early morning words whispered under blankets as rintarou leaves for practice or away games.

even as the uncertainty of whether or not you're getting your hopes up—of whether those meetings were even really dates at all—melts away into nothing more than a memory.

you're not even sure what the two of you manage to spend so much time talking about on the phone. nothing, really. everything in its own right. rintarou's phone calls are something you come to look forward to at the end of a long day. something you anticipate when you have exciting news to share. a comfort when you're missing him and a relief when you need him most.

"is that the last one?" you ask, turning just in time to see your boyfriend—your live-in boyfriend now, officially—flop back on the sofa after he drops the last moving box atop the stack piled near the balcony door.

"yeah," he wheezes, evidently winded from the exertion—from the exhaustion—of moving house. you laugh a bit to yourself as you shuffle over to the sofa, leaning over the back so you can peer down at him where he lays sprawled against the cushions.

"aren't you a professional athlete?" you tease him. "shouldn't you have better stamina?"

rintarou cocks a brow, something sly swimming behind his gaze.

"i need better stamina?" he drawls. "you're usually complaining about the opposite."

you roll your eyes in the wake of his remark, grabbing a throw pillow from beneath his head and yanking it from under him unceremoniously, only to press it lightly against his face.

you shuffle back towards the kitchen where you'd left the box you were unpacking abandoned. you grab a plate from inside the cardboard and turn to place it on the shelf you'd decided would house your dinnerware.

"it's late," you tell him, reaching for the next plate in the box. "you should go wash up first."

you don't get a reply, and that surprises you. you creep over to the sofa again, only to find rintarou staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"hey," you laugh a little, leaning on your elbows against the back of the couch. "where'd you go?"

rintarou's gaze snaps back to yours. he still looks at you like he did on your first date. like he did outside the train station on your third. he smiles, bit it's a bit sheepish.

"sorry, was just thinking," he answers quietly. he reaches up from where he's lying on his back, brushing his thumb against your cheek. his smile turns a little bit giddy, then. boyishly charming. "can't believe we finally got a place together."

you lean into his touch, huffing a little breath through your nose—halfway to a laugh.

"guess you won't have to call me anymore," you joke, and rintarou's expression changes—falls slightly—but only for a moment. you realize what you've said, or at least think about the implications more, and you sort of understand the shift.

you fell in love through those phone calls.

you'll miss them—the ritual, the familiarity, the comfort—even though you know they've been replaced by something better.

you turn your face, pressing a fleeting kiss to rintarou's palm. "go wash up," you tell him again, heading back towards the kitchen and your (now twice abandoned) box of plates.

he seems to heed your advice this time, peeling himself up off the sofa and shuffling off in the direction of the washroom.

"don't use all the hot water!" you call after his retreating frame, and you hear him reply noncommittally under his breath before the door clicks closed behind him.

you've only got three dishes left to unpack before your box is emptied, but the shelf you'd been organizing doesn't seem to want to accommodate all of your bowls in the way you wanted, so you're left arranging and rearranging them as you try to find a way to get them to fit.

in the back pocket of your jeans, your phone begins to ring. with three plates balanced in one hand, you reach for it with the other—the movement muscle memory now, instinct more than volition, after all this time. you answer the call without even looking at the screen, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you continue juggling the dishes in front of you.

"oop—hello?"

you pause after you answer the call, realizing for the first time that you shouldn't be getting a call at all. not at this time of night. not in this apartment.

the line is quiet, just the sound of breathing that you could recognize anywhere to be heard from the other end of the call.

"why are you calling me?" you ask rintarou, but the words are light. too fond to be reproachful.

you hear rintarou laugh—from the other end of the call and from the other side of the bathroom door.

"just wanted to hear your voice," he answers you (the same way he has a thousand nights before when you've asked him that same question.)

"you're ridiculous," you tell him, completely enamoured.

"i know," he replies.

it's quiet for a moment as the two of you stand on opposite sides of your apartment. on opposite ends of your call.

you shift a stack of bowls a little to the left. it all fits now. just the way you wanted it to.

"y'know, the hot water won't run out as fast if we shower together—"

you hear the bathroom door open, and when you look over your shoulder, rintarou is peeking at you from around the edge of the door—his phone held to his ear, a smile on his face you know is mirrored on your own, and a look in his eye that's never once wavered.

he tilts his head.

"—wanna join me?"

[littlelamy]

drew x younger!reader; date night in Venice

as the sun sets on the canals of venice, the evening breeze carries a soft warmth, brushing against your skin. drew had just finished the last of his commitments for the film festival, and now, the night was yours. he emerges from the bathroom, freshly showered, wearing a sleek black shirt that fits him perfectly, the top two buttons undone, teasing you with a glimpse of his toned chest.

“ready for our night?” drew asks with that irresistible smirk, eyes glinting with excitement. his hand reaches out for you, pulling you into a slow, intimate kiss. the scent of his cologne lingers as he whispers, "i’ve been looking forward to this."

the two of you step out onto the streets of venice, the lights reflecting off the water making everything glow in a dreamy, golden hue. drew insists on taking a gondola ride, guiding you into the boat with his hand on your lower back, sending a wave of warmth through you.

as the gondola glides through the canals, drew pulls you closer, his arm draped lazily around your shoulders. you lean into him, the soft hum of the gondolier in the background as drew tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. his thumb brushes against your lip, and he gives you that boyish grin before leaning in for another kiss, deeper this time, his hand finding its way to your ass.

“you look beautiful tonight,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. his fingers trace lazy circles on your thigh as you sit beside him, completely captivated by his presence. “i don’t think I’ve ever wanted you more.”

you finally make your way to a quiet, hidden restaurant, the dim candlelight casting a golden glow on his face. throughout dinner, his gaze never leaves you, filled with a mix of adoration and desire. every touch, every smile, every stolen kiss heightens the electricity between you two.

by the time dessert is over, you can feel the anticipation building. drew takes your hand, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles as he whispers, “let’s get out of here, princess.”

back at your hotel, the door barely closes before drew pulls you against him, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss, his hands wandering down your sides as he pushes you back onto the bed. the night, filled with passion and desire, is everything you had both been waiting for.

and just before you drift off to sleep, tangled in each other, drew pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead as he whispers, "i love you."

[gogogodzilla]

day 23, virginity loss

edward cullen x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, fingering, maybe ooc!edward, slight dirty talk, human!reader kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

Edward Cullen was a man who pretended to have a strict moral code when it came to you, but the way he was ravishing you tonight was downright sinful. 

Your wedding was nothing short of extravagant, of course. The Cullens spared no expense for your union. However, all you could think about was Edward ripping your dress off of you and taking you right there and then. By the way he gripped your side tightly the entire night, you could tell your wandering thoughts were getting to him. 

Your lips quickly attached to the side of his neck as he drove to the airport and your fingertips trailed up his thigh. He grabbed your hand and nipped at your inner wrist, a silent warning to behave. 

You were on your best behavior after that, only allowing your thoughts to veer off course once or twice, just to keep Edward on his toes. 

Isle Esme was gorgeous, and you couldn’t wait to see it in the daylight. You were glad to finally be alone with Edward. As you approached the threshold of the front door, he swept you off your feet and a high-pitched squeal left you at his movements. 

“Little warning next time?” you raised a brow as he carried into the main room of the villa. He spun you around, a grin gracing his features. 

“I am nothing if not traditional,” he replied as he set you down. His hands lingered on your waist as you looked up at him. 

You pursed your lips, “That’s for sure.” 

He chuckled, before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. His cool fingers traced a delicate path across your jawline, and you shuddered against his touch. Your heartbeat quickened in your chest, and you wondered if Edward’s thoughts were racing just as fast as yours were. 

Your lips parted and his breath fanned across your cheek. He laced his fingers with yours and led you deeper into the house. It was luxurious and open, and you never wanted to leave. 

Soft lighting bathed the master bedroom, and a sudden wave of nervousness overtook you. You’d been intimate before but never like this. 

He pulled you into the bedroom and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I promised you we’d try,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving yours. 

You forced yourself to focus on his touch lingering on your hips and the ocean breeze drifting through the open double doors to the bedroom. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as you formulated your plan in your mind. 

“Think you can wait a bit longer while I change into something more comfortable,” you questioned, pulling yourself out of his embrace. 

He grinned, “I’ve waited 104 years, a few more minutes isn’t going to kill me.” 

You grabbed one of your smaller bags and brought it into the bathroom with you. You sifted through the various sets of lingerie Alice had meticulously packed for you, looking for something that wouldn’t be impossible to put on. 

You settled on a lacy dark blue, but not navy, bralette and panties with little to no straps. Easy enough.  

Once you had the lingerie settled onto your features, you took a moment to gaze at yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t deny Alice’s taste when it came to anything you wore. The lingerie fit you like a glove and looked amazing. You looked amazing. You spritzed some perfume on yourself before exiting the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind you. 

Edward turned to face you. He was still wearing the light blue button-up that he donned after the reception. The two buttons at the top were undone, which was definitely not because of you. 

His eyes raked up your body, and you struck a pose, attempting to diffuse the tension in the air. He chuckled and the next thing you knew you were lifted into his arms. His hands cupped your ass and held you steady against him. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him, deep and slow. 

With every moment, your kisses grew deeper and more desperate. Edward laid you softly onto the plush mattress, his lips still attached to yours.  

“You’re exquisite,” he breathed as he took in your features. He left featherlight kisses along your cheekbones before moving to your jawline and to your neck. His tongue grazed over the skin of your pulse point and you tangled your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly.

“Don’t go getting any ideas,” you teased. 

“Trust me,” he assured, moving up to peck your lips, “the ideas I’m having do not involve taking your life.” 

You slid a hand across his chest and began undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Thinking of taking something else?” you hummed against his lips. 

“Yes,” he replied as his hands wandered down your abdomen and brushed against your clothed core. Your breath shuddered as he teased you through your underwear, stroking your clit before sliding down to dip a finger in your entrance. 

A soft whine escaped you as he pressed sloppy kisses against your neck. You bucked your hips against his hand, desperate for more. 

He hooked a finger through the waistband of your panties and with the flick of his wrist they were falling off of you. Your gasp was quickly swallowed by his lips against yours and his deft fingers sliding through your folds. 

“So wet for me,” he praised as he circled your clit. He slowly inched a finger into your entrance, like he had multiple times before. He quickly added another finger and pumped it languidly within you, savoring the way you swallowed him whole and were begging for more. 

“Fuck me,” you whimpered as you ground your hips against the palm of his hand. “Please, Edward.” 

He removed his fingers and slipped them passed your lips, groaning as you eagerly swiped your tongue across the pads of his fingers. He fumbled for the buckle of his belt with his free hand and the smooth leather bumped against your inner thighs. You took the time to unclip your bra, allowing it to fall freely off your shoulders. You threw it elsewhere in the room, not caring where it landed. 

You gripped the side of his pants and helped him shimmy out of his slacks. His lips were back on yours faster than you could process. You were still getting used to his super speed after all this time. You reached down to palm him through his briefs, and he moaned against your lips. 

You looked up at him through your lashes as you slipped a hand past the waistband of his briefs and wrapped a hand around his cock. You pulled his length out of his briefs so you could freely stroke him. You slid your thumb over his pink-hued tip, which was the same color as his lips, spreading the precum that had begun to form. 

He bit back a gasp, his teeth sinking into his soft lips. You wanted to hear him. You knew all of those pretty little noises he could make, why was he holding back from you? 

“Please, Edward,” you begged, tugging him closer to you, “you promised.” 

He settled his hips between your thighs, one hand roaming your body while the other slid his length through your dripping folds. You arched against his touch and rested your hands on his shoulders, his soft skin under your fingertips grounding you. 

“I love you,” he murmured as he slowly pushed inside of you. A soft hiss escaped your lips as he inched inside of you. His eyes scanned your face, searching for the slightest inkling that you were uncomfortable. 

Quickly, the slight pain of him inside you morphed into pleasure. You’d never felt so full— so deeply connected with Edward. 

“You’re okay?” he asked, voice strained and pleading. Your hands shifted up to cradle his face, and you swiped a thumb over his cheek as you gave a quick nod. 

You pulled him toward you and pressed your lips against his, “I’m okay.” 

The plush skin of your thighs sunk under his grip as he started rocking into you. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, leaving kisses and nipping at the skin there. Each and every one of Edward’s thrusts is purposeful and deep, almost as if he’s trying to mark you as his own. The thought turned you on, and you clenched around him.

He propped himself up on the headboard with one arm to let his eyes rake over your form. Your tits bounced with each roll of his hips against yours, and his grip tightened on the headboard. The wood cracked and then splintered under his palm, but you didn’t care. You were making him feel good, and pride swelled in your chest. His eyebrows were pinched, his expression a mix of pleasure and thinly veiled restraint. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his hips and bringing him closer. “I can take it.” 

He groaned against the crook of your neck as his thrusts quickened. The room was filled with the sounds of the squelching of your heat and the soft music Edward had put on while you got changed. His free hand trailed across your thigh and moved to draw quick, tight circles around your clit. A breathy moan left you, and the familiar heat pooled in your belly. 

He left open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck. His thrusts became short and sloppy as you neared your climax, your walls fluttering around him. 

“You feel so good,” he breathed against your neck, “wanna feel you cum around me.” 

You clenched around him in a vice grip as you came, a strangled cry and his name gracing your lips. You threw your head back into the pillow below you as your orgasm washed over you. Edward whined against you as he helped you ride out your high. 

Edward’s hips faltered against your own and he quickly pulled out of you. He didn’t get very far, though, and his release coated your thighs. You whimpered as it ran down your thighs, warmer than you thought it’d be. 

You panted, attempting to catch your breath. Edward leaned down and captured your lips in his. You reached up and ran a hand through his hair, pulling him closer. 

“I love you too,” you finally whispered as you pulled away. 

His lips curved into a smile, “Was it everything you imagined?” 

“Better,” you replied, your mind racing with a thousand different scenarios. Edward met your eyes before groaning, a boyish smile gracing his features as he lay beside you. 

[kingtomura]

From Water to Wine

summary: It’s so obvious — so glaringly obvious and you can’t believe the realization hit you right here, right now as Tomura makes you come undone on his tongue in the warmth of the morning twilight.

You love him. 

You love him.

Fuck.

Cw: Tomura shigaraki x female reader, quirkless AU, established relationship, smut with plot, lots of plot, jealousy, insecurity, hurt/comfort, oral (f! receiving), make up sx, confessions, a ton of kissing, not sorry, toxic environments, piv, overstim, creampie, begging, bad parental figures, toxic parenting, mdni

wc: 9.4k | crossposted to ao3 | part 4 of the strict parents au (one, two, three)

If someone had asked you a year ago where you saw yourself right now, you would have given them a million different answers. 

None of them involved your current reality. 

You would have never thought you would be right here, right now — in your boyfriend’s shabby basement drinking with his friends while they smoked and argued about the latest game releases.

And they were an interesting set of friends. 

“Bullshit, what the hell do you even know about games?” Tomura spat, pointing a finger and splashing a bit of beer from the bottle he held in his hand. 

The one you’ve come to know as Dabi just smiles that same grin that makes Tomura’s eye twitch in irritation and shrugs his shoulders. “Hey, not my fault some of us prefer first person shooters.” 

The conversation between them carries on and you find your mind drifting away — way too focused on the way Tomura has his arm wrapped around you with his free hand pressed against your hip, pulling you closer and making your cheeks flush deeper than what the alcohol already has. 

You like when he gets this way — a little louder and a little looser with his words. It's all a precursor to what will happen tonight, when he’s a little rougher and presses into you so much deeper. 

You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol, but you find yourself lost in the thought, biting your lip and watching the way Tomura’s heavy lidded eyes narrow as he focuses on his argument with Dabi. 

You can’t help but stare when he gets like this, the gleam of fire in his eye when he argues, never backing down when he knows he’s right. 

It’s alluring.

The giddy feeling you have only grows and you know its because tonight Tomura will fuck you in a way he only does when his grin is a little too wide and his eyes are a little too low. 

You feel more emboldened and your words are looser when it’s like this. Eager to speak up in the argument, defending Tomura against Dabi’s quips and its fun. 

It’s different to be able to speak so freely around people who would never judge you like your old stuck up friends would have. They all came from good families who have high expectations. Anything outside of the normal would be mocked and expelled. 

You feel so free here. 

With Tomura — with all of them. 

“Whatever you say, freak.”

“I'm sure it takes one to know one.” You shoot back and the room breaks out in laughter, even Dabi holds up his hands in surrender. 

The smug grin you wore only widened as Tomura leaned in and kissed your temple, proud that you can hold your own against the biggest smartass in the room. 

Himiko stands from her place on the couch with Spinner, laugh dying down, but smile remaining on her face. “Wow, Tomura, I like her way better than your other girl.”

You feel your grin slide off of your face as fast as it had arrived.

Other girl?

Tomura has never mentioned another girl besides you. 

The concerning comment makes your mind race with endless possibilities, the cycle only being broken as Himiko announces her departure, unaware of the inner turmoil she’s just thrown upon you.

“Jin doesn't like when I stay out too late so I’ll see you all later!” Her voice is high and chipper as she bounces towards the door.

“Hey, tell your brother don’t forget what he owes me, crazy girl!” Dabi yells after her, Himiko only returning a small wave and exiting the room. 

There’s a lull in the conversation, only being broken as Spinner dies in his game of Mario Kart, too drunk to focus, but all the more determined to win. 

“Damn it!” His frustration breaks through as he stands to his feet, “I almost had it!”

Dabi nods, clearly unbothered by the outburst and walking over to him, “work on it next time. It's getting late and I'm tired.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Spinner asks a little too loud, his intoxicated state more obvious as the minutes went on.

Dabi only shrugs, throwing an arm around his shoulder and leading him to the door. “Can’t let you walk home like this and risk getting snatched up now can I, princess?” 

You vaguely register Spinner’s retort as Dabi throws a hand up in a wave and leaves as well, leaving only you and Tomura in the room. 

What would have been exciting has become a weight in your stomach, leaving a pit of dread as your mind raced with Himiko’s words. 

Some other girl. Someone before you. A girl who’s already met his friends, who has already been in your place. It brings a different kind of feeling to your mind that you’ve never really experienced. 

The only thing that grounds you is Tomura’s shuffling as he stands and kisses your forehead. 

It’s as if that one kiss dispelled the thoughts poisoning your mind and replaced them with the warm feeling you usually have when it comes to Tomura. The feeling that is only heightened by the strong sensation of alcohol. 

You unsteadily trail behind him as he laces his fingers in yours and leads you out of the room and towards his. 

The path is a familiar one and the giddy feeling returns as you race through the familiar corridors with him. 

His home feels like a maze and the alcohol makes everything feel so much more fun. Your giggles and hurried footsteps are the only thing echoing throughout the halls as you chase behind him, eager to reach his room and come undone under his familiar touch.

Tomura has a habit of surprising you, though. 

You blame the alcohol for your dulled senses as you don’t expect him to stop before his bedroom, turning to press you into the corridor wall. A small gasp leaves you at the impact and you don’t have time to react before Tomura is gripping your thighs, hiking you up against the wall and pressing you so much closer.

The whimper that escapes your lips would embarrass you any other day, but today you can’t bring yourself to care. It only spurs Tomura on as he presses forward, kissing you with a fever you hadn’t expected him to be withholding. The urgency of the kiss only shows you how much he may have been holding back during the get together. 

You let out a soft moan as Tomura bites your lower lip, only to soothe it with his slick tongue in the next moment. Your arms wrap around his neck as you tilt your head, desperately seeking more of him as this heated endeavor grows with every passing moment. 

His hands travel up your thighs and along your sides, gripping anything and everything he could, pressing his clothed erection closer to your core and giving you more needed friction as he grinds against you. 

The way his hands slip under your shirt and massage your breasts makes you gasp again and Tomura takes this opportunity to press kisses along the column of your neck, loving the way he can finally leave as many marks as he wants. 

You’re in his home — there were no rules against marks. There were no rules at all. 

You close your eyes, getting lost in the feeling as Tomura licks and kisses along your neck, burying your hand in his ashen locks and weakly rutting your hips against his, craving more of him in any way possible. 

“So needy,” he breathes against you and you have to bite back a whine at his low tone. 

Tomura has you right where he wants you and it’s obvious. The more you ached for it, the more he would drag it out to tease you. There was nothing you wanted more than for him to rip the shorts off of you and take you right here, but you know it’s not that easy. 

“T-Tomura…” you try to keep it together, show him that you can be coherent even with the fuzz of alcohol muddling your mind. 

He pinches a nipple between his forefinger and thumb, this time drawing a yelp that you just couldn’t contain. 

His low chuckle reverberates against your neck, sending shivers all the way to your spine as slick between your thighs is beginning to soak through the material of your panties. 

“So sensitive, baby… you’d think I've been denying you.”

But you can’t help it. You wish you could cry out to him that your body just reacts like that for him, but you didn’t trust anything to fall from your lips besides a moan, so instead you keep quiet and hope he would give in to you sooner rather than later. 

Tomura trails kisses from your neck to your jaw, and then ultimately back to your soft lips, enjoying the feel of them against his. You knew this was always his favorite part. 

It was soft, it was intimate, and it was yours. 

Yours…

Your brows furrow at an unwanted thought, but you press on — pulling Tomura closer and flicking your tongue against his lips, knowing he would pull closer and deepen the kiss. 

He does and you’re grateful. 

The way his tongue dominates your mouth makes you mewl into the kiss. A welcome distraction from your increasingly loud thoughts. 

Tomura groans, bringing a hand down lower and lower until he reaches your clothed cunt. His finger presses against the thin fabric of the shorts, testing the waters of your sensitivity and loving the reaction he received in return. 

His touch makes your breath hitch, the feeling alleviating a bit of pressure that's been building up deep within you. 

You need more of it.

He pulls away again, trailing those soft kisses along your jaw and down your neck once more. It’s something that would usually make your heart flutter, but right now your mind is beginning to trail off, again. 

It’s the idea of your boyfriend with some other girl that haunts you. Someone before you. Her hands on his, doing the things you’ve grown to love with the boy you—

You squeeze your eyes shut.

You don’t want to think right now. You just want to feel. You just want Tomura to take you and make you feel good so you can stop fucking thinking—

“Hey.” 

Tomura’s sharp tone snaps you from your spiraling thoughts, bringing you back to reality. 

“What’s going on?” His voice is rough, as it usually is, but he is not frustrated. The narrowed glare in his eyes would make anyone else believe he was irritated, but not you. 

You know Tomura’s expressions like the back of your hand. He’s worried.

“I..” you pause, words lost on your tongue. What could you say? Jealousy is an ugly trait to have. “What do you mean?”

Tomura doesn’t buy your feigned ignorance. 

He pulls away further to get a better look at you, his hands resting on your thighs, the soothing motion of them tenderly rubbing up and down the exposed area makes you want to relax under his touch. 

“Why are you distracted?”

Your eyes cut to the side and you turn your head, unable to meet his ruby red gaze. The fear of admitting something as petty as jealousy eats at you. 

“I’m not.” You mutter, the lie not fooling your own ears. You’d be naive to think it would work on the one who taught you how to lie in the first place. 

It's clear he could see right through you and your eyes close at the soft touch of his hand along your chin, turning your head back to face him.

His eyes soften when they finally meet yours — the action is so slight you almost miss it. 

“You’re upset.” It’s a statement of the obvious, but you still bring yourself to nod, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth and hoping you could bite it hard enough to taste the iron of blood. Anything to distract you from the white hot humiliation that this conversation will bring to you. “Why?”

You inhale, knowing Tomura is not the type to let it go. Knowing he would keep you here all night if he had to so that you would speak your mind. 

“Himiko…” you mutter, dropping your eyes once more as the threat of tears begin to form along your waterline. 

“Himiko?” The complete confusion in his voice makes you more upset, he probably didn’t even remember what she’d said. 

“What she said earlier,” your voice wavers at your words and your defeat is imminent. The tears have already broken their bounds and began to trail down your cheeks. Embarrassment be damned. “About your.. Your ex.”

You could practically see the cogs turn in his head as he recounted tonight's events — the alcohol no doubt impairing his reflexes. 

His expression only makes the pit of anxiety in your gut grow, tight, but clearly showing signs of unease, “Oh, that.”

You nod, confirmation stinging. 

“That was someone I dated in highschool. Back when I was a teenager for three months.” His gentle hand moves from your chin to your cheek, wiping the falling tears from your flushed cheeks. “I don’t even think she lives in Kamino anymore, and I don't care. Haven’t cared in years. It’s why we broke up.”

Your heart still feels heavy with the weight of jealousy as Tomura comforts you. It's a bitter emotion that you know you have no right to feel. This was all before you, it shouldn’t matter. 

Even though you don’t meet his eyes, Tomura lets you down — your toes touching the cold hardwood of the hallway floor as he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. 

It’s soft and it’s sweet in ways you know Tomura only reserves just for you.

“C’mon, lets go to bed,” he takes your hand in his, leading you to the bedroom you’ve grown to know so well. “I’m exhausted.” 

And your heart beats in tandem with your steps as you make your way to the bed, your tears dried up as Tomura pulls you close, the warm embrace so much more soothing than you’d expected. 

It takes no time for your eyes to close — your mind drifting off to sleep as the weight of your heavy heart is lifted by Tomura’s touch. 

—---------------

There’s a window near Tomura’s bed. 

It's big and it gives you the best view when the weather is dark and rainy. It also has a secret gift of shining the morning sunlight directly in your face and waking you up. Something that Tomura had remedied for himself by covering the window with blackout curtains. 

You believe that one of you forgot to pull the curtain last night because the warm light of the sun’s rays cause you to stir from your sleep. 

No, that can be ignored. 

Something else is causing you to stir.

Something is making your brows furrow and your hips writhe as your lips part to pant at the feeling taking your breath away.

“W-what..” you mutter as you try to blink the sleep from your eyes, hand reaching down to investigate.

Your fingers meet the soft tresses of Tomura’s familiar locks just as his tongue makes direct contact with your clit, the feeling sending the wave of pleasure up your spine and causing you to cry out.

“Tomura..!” you cry weakly as you bury your fingers in his hair, back arching from the bed as he becomes more intentional with his actions, the excitement of waking you this way showing in his efforts. 

You gasp as Tomura’s skilled tongue flicks against your sensitive bud, his hands coming forward to hold your hips in place as he relaxes against your soaked cunt — lazily lapping at your entrance as you struggle to keep yourself together.

It’s effortless, the way he pushes your body to come apart, knowing you were still fighting the remnants of sleep and fully indulging in your pleasure. 

He gives your clit a soft kiss before moving to readjust on the bed, spreading your thighs wider as he watches your expression — his lips are glossy with saliva and slick, a small string of the mixture connecting him to your exposed cunt. 

Tomura has seen you in many different ways, in many different situations, but to be here, exposed before him so intimately makes you want to shy away. It makes you want to look away and you bashfully attempt to close your legs. 

If you were to keep going this way you may say some things you weren’t sure either of you were ready to hear. 

You blame it on the morning fuzz in your brain. 

There was no other explanation for the strong feelings you had within. The way they bubble along the surface of your words at every moment spent with Tomura. You know if you go longer with these feelings unchecked they would threaten to spill out and over — possibly tainting the comfort of your relationship with Tomura. 

“Ah!” you gasp, eyes squeezing shut at the lewd way Tomura laps at your cunt, moaning into you as the slick muscle of his tongue pushes you further and further to your end.

Tomura is watching your every move, his carmine eyes observing the way your hips twitch at the sensations, the way you breath hitches as he sucks on your clit — everything. 

You can’t help but fall into the pleasure. 

Coming undone is inevitable.

You toss your head to the side, the building pressure in your abdomen causing your thighs to tense as your hand finds his soft locks once more. The grip you had on his hair was nothing short of painful with the way you held on, but Tomura took it in stride, groaning at the rough treatment. 

He’s always liked when you were rougher with him. 

“F-fuck, Tomura, I can’t—” your words are slurred as his tongue glides against your clit, the sensitivity heighented as your mind rushes with the strong feelings that have plagued you for months.

You gasp as the budding realization hits you like a tidal wave. 

Your eyes clenched shut as the pleasure takes you over and under, dragging your muddled mind along as you come undone with Tomura’s touch. 

It’s so obvious — so glaringly obvious and you can’t believe the realization hit you right here, right now as Tomura makes you come undone on his tongue in the warmth of the morning twilight.

You love him. 

You love him.

Fuck.

Your body shivers as you reach the end, climax overtaking you while Tomura makes it his mission to make a complete mess of you — only stopping when your twitches of pleasure begin to meld into overstimulation, causing your hand to weakly push his head away.

There were tears lining your vision as Tomura brought himself back up to meet you, slick lips seeking yours and you hungrily greet him, unbothered by your own taste gracing your tongue as you languidly lick into his mouth. 

Your mind buzzed in the afterglow of an early morning orgasm and the idea of getting more from him entices you.

So much so that it makes you question why he hasn’t taken it further. 

Instead, Tomura pulls away, granting you one more kiss before lying down on his side of the bed, his words beating you to the question that awaited on your tongue.

“Headache,” he supplies as you turn towards him, the morning sunlight from the window illuminates his pale tresses in an almost pastel hue — hair so white it almost looks blue. You want to reach out and touch him. “I drank more than I thought last night and arguing with Dabi doesn’t help.”

Your heart tugs at the memory, a warm feeling spreading in your chest as you’ve grown to love those late weekend nights with Tomura’s friends. 

“I can bring you some water,” you offer, moving to stand. Maybe a little space would be good, it will give you a minute to think about the all consuming feelings that have flooded all parts of your mind this morning. “And some meds, too.”

Tomura hums in appreciation, turning over to face away from the sun.

You take that as your cue to go, but not before grabbing one of his oversized shirts and a pair of panties. Kurogiri shouldn’t be up at this time, but it would still be odd to walk around Tomura’s home naked. 

The trek to the kitchen is a short one and you waste no time grabbing an empty glass and some medication. 

Kurogiri was adamant about using one of those fancy water purifiers so it’s no surprise when you’ve fully distracted yourself, filling the glass and focusing your attention on the stream of water pouring from the refrigerator’s water dispenser. 

It’s so distracting that you don’t notice the presence behind you. 

“Oh, what’s this?” A deep voice behind you muses, catching your attention. The sound startles you so suddenly that you almost drop the glass of water. “Playing house now, are we?”

That doesn’t sound like Kurogiri, your thoughts race as you slowly turn to meet the mysterious voice of the man in question. 

He is… intimidating. 

He stands no less than twice your height with ashen hair that rivals Tomura’s. His eyes are even the same deep crimson of the boy you’ve grown to know so well. He eyes you with a tight smile, never straying from your gaze.

This must be—

“Are you Tomura’s friend?”

You nod, words caught in your throat, but you will yourself to speak. If this is who you think it is then it would be a bad idea to leave an impression worse than what you already have. “Yes.”

“I see. Would you be a dear and fetch him for me? I have a few words for him.” His tone is solid — even. 

You couldn’t make out how he felt in this moment if you tried. The small smile on his face seems pleasant, but given the circumstances of a half naked girl in what you can only assume to be his home really brings you no peace. 

So you nod again, hurrying off with the glass of water in your hand, forgoing the medicine and only wanting to be as far away from that man as possible. Something about him strikes fear into you. 

Tomura is in the same spot you left him before your kitchen adventure, but he cracks an eye open at the sound of you closing his bedroom door with a little too much force.

“What’s wrong?” he drags, turning over to face you and squinting as he gets hit directly in the face by the sun’s rays. You should really close that curtain soon.

The walk to him is short and you hand him the glass of water, bottom lip worried between your teeth as you search your mind for the right words.

“Someone’s here.” You didn’t mean to opt for an ominous choice, but you had no other idea what to say. Tomura has never talked about his parents. 

“What?”

“There’s a man in the kitchen. He wants to see you.”

This seems to click for Tomura as his eyes narrow for a second and then widen, ever so slightly, at the realization. 

You don’t know if that’s good or bad.

He sucks his teeth, taking the glass from your hand and downing the water as you watch on. Tomura seems calm, but he also has a very good poker face. If this is his parent then you’re not sure how long you would be able to stay.

The idea of going back makes you shiver. 

No, that’s not really an option. 

Tomura moves to stand, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and shirt, frustration evident in the way he tosses his clothes on. 

He gives you one more turn, words tight and brows downturned. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

You nod as he exits, leaving you alone in the silence of his bedroom. The beaming sun seems more comfortable than before, the warm rays dance along your skin as you play through every scenario that could come from their talk.

He could make you leave. 

That's the first and most obvious way to handle this situation. You know that your parents would never in a million years allow someone to stay under their roof with their daughter. It’s unheard of. 

Or worse, he could call your parents. 

You’ve gone completely no contact at this point and it wouldn’t be too much of a farfetched idea that this man would call them. Especially if Tomura tells him about your situation in full.

But… he could be a nice guy.

This could all be a big misunderstanding and blow over, if given enough time. This is more of a pipedream than a genuine idea, but you would go crazy if you only thought of the negatives. 

You don’t realize you’ve been pacing the room until you almost trip over a discarded shirt on Tomura’s floor. It stops you in your tracks and makes you look around to assess the state of his room. 

It's not perfect and it definitely needed work when you moved in, but it’s not terrible. 

You turn back to the door, as if Tomura would come bursting through with updates of the conversation at hand, but no. nothing has happened. Nothing has changed. 

The quiet of the room drives you crazy — there has to be something you can do.

It starts off small, picking up a few loose articles of clothing here and there, and then it delves into picking up empty drink cans, making the bed, and even sorting the mess of his closet. All in the name of passing time. 

By the time Tomura made his way back to the room, you have the space nearly spotless. He takes note, but refrains from commenting. Instead his next words shock you.

“He said you can stay.”

Your brows furrow. “I can?”

Tomura only nods, making his way back to his newly made bed and lying down once more, no doubt due to the headache still pounding against his skull. 

“That’s it?” you press — this all feels too easy. 

“Yeah, just wear pants more often.” He waves you off, turning over and gearing up to go back to sleep.

The comment makes your cheeks burn and you nod, even though Tomura can’t see it. 

It feels odd, especially knowing your parents would never allow this, but you suppose not everyone lived under such strict conditions. 

So instead, you push that uneasy feeling in the pit of your gut aside and climb into bed with Tomura.

His steady breathing is calming and the rhythmic sound helps you drift off as well, unable to shake the lingering of suspicion and uncertainty, ebbing away in the back of your mind.

—-----------

You’ve come to learn that Tomura is actually quite busy during the day. 

He is currently gearing up to go to his internship at the hospital, and it’s been taking up a chunk of his time lately. For a couple months he’s had a break from it since the doctor he had worked under was taking time away, but now he’s back and he wants Tomura to be busier than ever.

It’s not that you mind. Of course you knew Tomura’s life couldn’t revolve around you, but it still left you with not very much to do. 

On the days he has to go, you stay at home — your attention hopping from playing video games on his pc, to reading books then eventually cleaning. 

It's given you a lot of time to think about what you want for your own career. You’ve started to think long and hard about how you envision your future. The reason you were home from college in the first place was because you needed the time to think.

But now you have nothing but time and it feels even more stressful.

The thought of having to decide your entire future on a whim is daunting. 

What if you didn’t like where you were in five years? Could you start over? 

Would Tomura still be by your side?

That possibility catches you off guard as you stop in your tracks.  

Would he be by your side? 

You’ve never been in a relationship at all, especially not a long term one. You were all in, but how does Tomura feel? Would it be odd to ask? 

The plaguing thoughts seem to take root in your mind as you walk through the halls of Tomura’s home, hoping to find something to occupy your time and chase these feelings away. 

You think of the basement, it’s where the other gaming systems were set up and it’s also a good change of scenery. 

Yeah, that would take your mind off of it. 

Or it would have.

As you set your sights on the hallway that leads to the basement, there's a voice that catches your attention. It’s deep and ever so calm, even when strained by the words being spoken.

“That's not good enough. I told you to keep him there as much as you can.” The voice hisses to the person on the other line of what you can assume is a phone call. 

You stop in your tracks, just before you could pass the door of the room Shigaraki Senior was speaking from. Instead you listen in, putting your back to the wall beside the door and zoning in on his words.

“I don’t care how fast he tries to get the work done — he’s only doing that to get home sooner.” He pauses and takes a breath, frustration imminent. “I need them apart. He won't listen to me about it, but the sooner he gets bored of her, the better. I don’t have time for his little distractions.”

You have to bite back a gasp as the words ring in your ears. 

A distraction..? You knew it was too good to be true. 

“Right,” the voice carries on, calling your attention once more, “I understand, but if he is to be the next me he cannot afford to get sidetracked.”

You haven’t had much of a chance to get to know the head of the household, instead preferring to stick by Tomura and make yourself as unobtrusive as possible. 

It felt as though you were walking on eggshells. As if you were in an orientation period and any misstep would lead to you tossed out onto the street — you would be food for the wolves.

But you knew deep down that there was always something to worry about. It was too good to be true, yes, but you couldn’t understand why he was letting you stay anyway.

There's a lull in the conversation before it picks up again.

“I suppose…”  The man’s voice sounds like it's getting closer and you take that as your cue to go back to Tomura’s room — but not before you catch the sound of his parting words. “It seems I'll just have to try harder then, hm?”

You don't know what kind of games this man was going to play but you knew one thing.

You had to tell Tomura. 

—-----------

It doesn't go well.

“No, Tomura, I heard him,” you whisper, the harsh sound of your voice cutting through the dark room, the curtains blocking the light of the incoming dawn as Tomura began getting ready for another day at the hospital, “talking about us.” 

You look down, arms crossed and defensive. “He wants us to break up — and he thinks you’ll do it on your own.”

Tomura’s expression is a mix of shock and disbelief, probably unsure of why his father would ever want him to break up with someone who brings him so much joy.

“No, there’s no way.”

“I’m telling the truth.” you plead, putting on your best voice of reason.

“He wouldn’t do that. It doesn’t make sense.” His tone is snappy, clearly ready for this conversation to end. 

But you persist. “Why would I lie?” 

“I don’t know — why would you?” He shoots back and the retort makes your ears perk. 

“I would never lie to you, Tomura, I—”

“Just stop,” he holds up his hand and the shock of it makes halt in your tracks. You’ve never seen him this agitated, or irate. “You don’t even know him.” 

But I don't have to know him, the words echo in your mind, stuck on your tongue as you watch Tomura continue, one hand to his neck as he etched his bad habit into his skin. 

He was starting to spiral. 

“You’re not even giving him a chance! I know he wouldn’t do that — he cares about me! He's the only one who—” Tomura stops himself, frustration leading him down avenues you don't think he’s walked in years.

You reach a hand out, aiming to comfort his ravenous habit, aching to tell him what’s really been eating away at your emotions for the last few weeks, but Tomura only scowls, the harsh look so intense it makes you snatch your hand back.

He’s never looked at you with such disdain before.

“Whatever. I’ll see you later.” His tone is final as he turns towards the door and you watch as he takes a breath to calm himself down, lowering his hand from his now redded neck.

Your chest feels tight, words fighting on your tongue to admit what you’d been holding within. It’s eating you up inside how strong these feelings were. “Tomura, wait— I didn't mean to upset you.”

He pays you a glance, expression neutral and features school back to their default calm. “It’s fine. I’ll see you tonight.” 

And then he’s gone, leaving you alone once more in the room that you’ve both begun to grow into. The desperate feeling in your chest fights for your undivided attention and you're beginning to wonder how long you can keep it at bay. 

—----------

The night doesn’t feel any better. 

Tomura’s return brings the tension from this morning and you’re positive he didn’t have the best day during his internship. It pushes the pressure between you further.

The air feels thick as you both move about in his room — you, scanning the books along his bookshelf for another manga to read, and Tomura on the floor with his notes from the day spread out in front of him. 

Luckily for you, Tomura breaks the silence. 

“There’s a dinner tonight — my father wants us both there.”

This piques your interest, eyes darting to his tense form. “Like a fancy dinner?”

Tomura shakes his head, adjusting the papers below with a bit too much force. He takes one flyer and balls it up, tossing it into the trash can near his desk as if the paper offended him. It’s crumpled, but you can still make out the words: Almighty Medicine.

“No, it’s just with us. Kurogiri will cook.” He pauses, features pensive as he decides his next words. “He wants to get to know you.”

Your heart sinks. 

It sounds like a trap. 

But you really didn’t want a repeat of this morning, so instead you suck it up and nod — even though Tomura couldn't see you. His gaze was completely focused on the papers below. His shoulders were stiff as he slouched to halfheartedly read the notes. You debate giving him some kind of massage to ease the edge.

You refrain, choosing to wait it out a bit more. The last thing you want is to stress him even more before the last minute dinner. 

So with a resigned sigh you answer, “Okay.” 

—---------

Kurogiri is a good cook.

It's the only thought in your mind as you absently stare at the food plated before you. Dinner tonight was filled with flavorful meats and vibrant vegetables. The rice was a perfect accent to the other options and any other time you would find yourself eager to dig in. 

But not tonight. 

No, tonight you can’t seem to find your appetite. 

You only push your cabbage back and forth with your chopsticks and await the inevitable questions you're sure Shigaraki Senior will ask.

“Tomura,” his baritone voice breaks the silence and you focus more on your cabbage, “you seem tense. What’s the matter.”

There’s a pause, and Shigaraki Senior’s faux friendly demeanor is not lost on you. “I saw that asshole again today. His face pisses me off.”

His father frowns. “Yes, well. That’s just business. When you’re over the company you won’t have to see him—“

“That’s not the problem!” Tomura cuts him off and you hold your breath, you could never raise your voice at home, “He leads his hospital and he’s a provider.”

“And that is not the path I have laid out for you.” The words are calm and collected, no hint of malice or anger. It’s eerily calm. 

 “Yeah, whatever. When are you going on that business trip again?” Tomura snaps.

The tension in the air is suffocating, it's thick and it's tense. It makes you want to run away, your feet anxiously tapping as you will yourself to bite down the uneasy feeling. 

The slow smile that creeps its way onto his father’s face makes your skin crawl. “You know, I believe I have more important matters to handle here at our home and in our town.”

“Great.” The sarcasm is evident in Tomura’s voice, dripping into the already strained air. 

“Well, that’s enough about our family matters... how about you, young lady.” His sharp eyes catch yours and you feel like a deer in headlights. “How are your parents? Do they know you’re here with my boy?”

You feel struck by his words, the pang in your stomach reverberating through your body as you scramble to find the words to answer him. “Well—”

“They’re aware.” Tomura cuts you off, his glare is ice as he places his chopsticks down and leans back in his chair, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. 

It seemed to be a challenge, one you are not prepared to back him up on. 

You were never a good liar. 

His father’s attention is snapped back to Tomura and you were sure anyone else would falter under that glare. 

“Really? If it were my boy off staying with some young girl I would want to at least get to know the one who’s paying the bills.”

He only shrugs in response, false air of disinterest apparent as he picks his chopsticks up again, picking away at his food once more. “Well it’s a good thing she isn’t your child then, huh.”

You think the conversation is over — that Tomura has successfully dodged this bullet and you will be allowed a peaceful dinner, but things were never that easy for you. 

“I think we should give them a call, hm? If she’s staying in my home I want to make sure they know all the details.”

You watch Tomura’s fingers twitch, irritation threatening to explode and you can’t help but think that’s exactly what his father wants to see. 

It’s toxic, in a whole new way. 

“Fine,” Tomura surprises you, your eyes cut to his stiff form, “since you’re so worried why don’t you go ahead and do it. I don’t get why you care so much anyway.”

His father seems unimpressed — that smile and those chilling eyes frighten you, it makes your blood feel like ice in your veins. “You’re right, Tomura. I shouldn’t care. And you know what? I won’t.”

You both look up, dumbfounded. 

“I won’t care unless you both give me a reason to care. How does that sound?” 

It sounds fantastic, in theory, but you know that it doesn’t matter how it sounds. 

It’s blackmail. 

The reality of the situation hits you then and there. 

Tomura is combative with his father because he can be.

“I think that’s a fair trade, don't you, Tomura?”

But only to a certain extent. 

Your eyes dart between the two of them as the weight of his words set in. Tomura is forced to comply — agree to his fathers terms or else. This is a battlefield you aren't familiar with — one of mind games and bad faith practices. 

It is naive to think Shigaraki Senior will be sensible in what he decides are good reasons.

Your time here was limited.

The end of dinner was as stressful as its start: tense, awkward and very foreboding. 

The stress of it all had Tomura pacing his room while you helplessly sat on the bed fighting the urge to tell him I told you so — that would help no one here. 

“This is bullshit!” he starts, the frustration of his thoughts coming to a head and spilling out. “Give me a reason, yeah, whatever.” 

Your brows furrow as you watch Tomura vent, his bitter words hanging in the air as you purse your lips — trying and failing to come up with any kind of solution for your situation. 

“And why does it even matter that you're here? He’s hardly here anyway!” The perturbing scratching habit has made its return and this time you do stand to your feet, marching over to where Tomura paced and taking his hand. 

As upsetting as this situation was, you knew that it wouldn’t do either of you any good if tomura destroyed himself in the process of understanding his father’s true intentions. 

“Hey,” you try, reaching for his hand and refusing to back down this time. “We’ll figure something out.”

You’re surprised when he lets you, his carmine eyes lock with yours as his ever present scowl remains unchanged. “Yeah, like what?”

You try to ignore the cross tone in his voice, opting to just hold his hand and try again. You're beginning to realize this is uncharted territory for both of you. 

“I don’t know, who was the guy you saw at your internship? The one who runs the other hospital and all? Maybe you could ask how he—”

“I am not doing that.” Tomura cuts you off, voice even more agitated.

Your brows furrow in confusion as you ignore his tone. You squeeze his hand instead, still trying to remain calm. “But you never know, Tomura. Maybe he could help you—”

“No! Why would I ask him of all people?” He snatches his hand away and you realize you’ve struck a nerve. 

This wouldn’t end well.

“You don’t even know who he is, you don’t know what he’s done!” His voice begins to rise and you wonder if he’s aware of the hurt lining his words. There is a hidden history in this mystery man that Tomura has foregone informing you of. 

You’re beginning to recognize a pattern — something about that fact gets under your skin. 

“Maybe I would if you actually told me anything about your life, Tomura! You’ve barely let me in at all!” 

And it’s true. 

You knew nothing about his father, he doesn't talk to you about his internship and you don’t even know who this mystery super provider is. You’ve been in the dark for a while and you’re tired of it. 

“And why should I do that?” He questions, becoming more and more defensive as the conversation carries on. “So you can use it against me?”

“What?” you gasp, baffled by his accusation. “Why would I ever do that?”

“I don’t know! Why else would you fucking care?”

“I care because I love you, dumbass!”

Both of you freeze. 

You didn’t want it to come out this way. 

You wanted the confession to be one of candied words and hushed whispers. You wanted it to be slow and romantic, maybe while Tomura was deep inside of you, hitting that sensitive spot that made you see stars. 

But things were never ordinary when you were dating a man like Tomura Shigaraki. 

In that moment you realize that maybe this was something you were willing to learn to live with. 

“What,” Tomura’s voice is low as if speaking louder would shatter the still air within the room, “what did you just say?”

Your breath hitches, the buzz of anxiety and anticipation makes you hesitate. “I said.. I love you, Tomura.”

He takes a step forward, it’s slow but sure. You remain stagnant and still. 

“Say it again.”

You do. 

“I love you, Tomura.” The words are warm as they leave your lips and now he stands before you, his height forcing you to look up at him. 

His carmine eyes shine with unbridled fervor that seems to be itching to make itself known. 

You want to see him lose control. 

So with a slow smile, you gear up to say it again, “I love y—“

You’re cut off by the press of Tomura’s lips against yours and the desperation in it pushes you back. Tomura is fast, pulling you closer to stop you from losing your balance. You feel lightweight as you wrap your arms around Tomura’s neck, tilting your head and deepening the kiss.

It’s intoxicating the way he maneuvers you, the way he makes you melt into the kiss, desperate for more — and he gives it to you. 

His hands trail up your sides and back down to grip your ass. The action makes you gasp and Tomura wastes no time taking advantage of the opportunity, his tongue dominating your mouth as the heat between your thighs grows. 

You moan into the kiss and lean forward as Tomura begins to pull away. 

Your nose scrunches in confusion as he gazes down at you, lazy grin on his face. 

There isn’t much time to mull over what Tomura was thinking, he takes your confusion in stride, using the opportunity to push you back, bottom landing onto the bed and bouncing once with the force of impact. 

Before you can speak, Tomura is on you, lips against yours and pushing you down onto his dark sheets. You bring a hand to those familiar pale locks and close your eyes — allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling and finally release the pent up energy of your emotions. 

Tomura is quick, fingers curling around the hem of your shorts and dragging them down with your panties in tow and leaving you exposed before him. 

You gasp at the gentle touch of his index finger slipping between your slick folds and going no further.

“Tomura…” you try, pulling away from the kiss and hoping the hunger in your voice would be enough for him to continue.

He only gazes at you, eyes half lidded yet vibrant. You’re sure he’s put you in a trance.

“Say it again.” 

“I love you.” you breathe and then gasp as he finally touches you. 

His finger is gentle as he rubs slow circles onto your clit, the action makes your head feel fuzzy as the pleasure begins to rise. 

Tomura leans forward to press kisses against the column of your neck, nipping and sucking along the soft flesh — no doubt trying to leave deep marks into your skin. 

“Mm!” you squeeze your eyes shut as he picks up the pace, adding more pressure to his movements and slowly bringing you closer to the edge. Tomura is steady with his hands, he knows your body so well. From the inside and out so he knows that if he continues at this pace you would come undone way before you wanted to. 

Maybe that's what he was aiming for. 

His other hand is warm as he cups your breast, tweaking a nipple between his forefinger and thumb, knowing it drives you crazy. You feel dizzy as his fingers leave your clit and travel lower to your entrance, pressing not one, but two fingers inside and chuckling at your whine.

“What?” he teases, pumping the digits in and out as you writhe beneath him, “too much?”

You want to shake your head, tell him no, and that it's never too much when it comes to him, but the only thing you can manage is a pathetic whimper as you grip his dark shirt. “Please, Tomura.” 

“Please, what?” you can feel his grin against your neck as he places another open mouthed kiss against your collarbone. “You gotta talk to me, baby.”

“T-touch me,” you plead. 

He moves up so that he’s eye to eye with you once more. The grin on his face was just as you imagined it, smug and excited. “I am touching you.”

You close your eyes again, knowing exactly what he wants you to say. “Make me feel good, Tomura. Please.”

He likes that answer, you can tell by the way his eyes soften and his fingers twitch ever so slightly within you. 

Tomura leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss once more as he moves his fingers with purpose, his thumb now pressing against your clit as the sensation grows.

It's hard to contain your cries, but you try. His fathers words echoing in the back of your mind — the possibility of loud sex with his son being a reason to kick you out almost makes you laugh.

At this point it would probably be worth it. 

“F-fuck,” you breathe as you lean into the feeling, your eyes flutter closed as you bring Tomura closer. Your peak is so, so close you can almost taste it.

Tomura would tease you any other time. He would try to drag it out in an attempt to see you squirm, but tonight he’s being so kind. He is so generous as he brushes against that spot inside that drives you crazy. He does it over and over again, making your toes curl in pleasure as the euphoric feeling takes you over the edge. 

The elation of your orgasm makes you shiver and cry out, a wave of pleasure crashing over you as you lose yourself in him. 

Tomura presses another kiss to your sweet lips, swallowing your moans as you cum on his fingers, soaking the digits in your slick and trembling in pleasure, 

Once you come down from your high Tomura is quick to remove his clothes and you follow his lead, finally removing your shirt. 

The feeling of his warm chest against yours is always so comforting. It brings a feeling of safety and security as he presses against you, his cock rock hard and dripping from the excitement earlier. 

He places a chaste kiss against your lips as he rubs the head of his cock between your slick folds, the glide is smooth and you gasp every time he brushes against your clit. Your hands find his soft locks again as you begin to move in tandem with his actions, trying to get more of the feeling as best you can. 

At this, Tomura pulls away, kiss swollen lips red and eyes soft, his words hold no bite, “Desperate, huh?” 

You nod, in no mood to tease back and Tomura can tell. He feels it in the way you look at him, so he presses his forehead against yours, his pale locks falling against your cheeks. 

“Again, tell it to me again.”

And you know what he’s talking about. You’re both so close, chest to chest and you swore your hearts were beating in tandem.

“I love you, Tomura.” you whisper and it's for his ears only.

Tomura groans, closing his eyes with a soft grin on his lips.

“Fuck…” he breathes against you, and that’s all it takes as he presses into you. The stretch of his cock makes you wince, but the smooth slick of your arousal helps him slide in with ease. 

You hold on and allow Tomura to anchor you as he pushes forward, desperate to give you everything he can. 

He bottoms out with a sigh, filling you completely as you bite your lip in anticipation — the pressure of feeling full is addictive. It doesn't take Tomura long to move, his eagerness impossible to hide as he pulls back, almost pulling out, and drives forward, rough and desperate.

It’s everything you've wanted and your body is greedy as you take in all of him. 

“Yes, Tomura!” You fight to keep your voice down but it proves impossible as Tomura sets a brutal pace, fucking out every ounce of tension he’s held within for the past few days. You can feel it as it unravels with each and every trust. 

Tomura adjusts ever so slightly and that's all it takes for him to hit that special place inside of you. 

“A-ah!” You moan underneath him, ripples of pleasure cascading up your spine as his sharp assault on your sensitive spot carries on. The consistent sparks of pleasure have your brows furrowed and legs wrapped around his waist, desperate to pull him closer, to feel him deeper. 

“Fuck,” Tomura mumbles and his low tone makes you shiver. 

You know that you won't last much longer if he keeps this up, but you give up trying to hold back. You cannot stop the way your cries spill from your lips, echoing against the walls of Tomura’s bedroom and mixing with the sound of his urgent trusts.

The lewd noises rise as your cunt drips with arousal against Tomura’s push and pull thrusts. His heavy balls slap against your ass with the force of them and you close your eyes, falling into the rhythm. 

You dont expect it when it happens, but it comes all the same — your orgasm takes you under, the overwhelming feeling of ecstasy capturing your mind as your lover fucks you through it. 

He groans at the sensations, the way your cunt squeezes him almost sends him over with you, but he holds on.

Tomura lowers himself, slowing down as you ride out your high and his lips are close to your ear.

“Fuck,” he starts and you feel his hips stutter as he tries to regain his pace, sending you into overstimulation. Tomura knows you can take it — and he can’t stop now. He was so close to his peak. “L-love you.. So much..” 

The words make your eyes widen, they are soft and slow as if unspoken for years and you can’t help but wonder how many. 

“Tomura..” you whisper as you turn your head, craving his lips and his gaze. 

Your eyes meet and you feel synced as you bring a hand down to his cheek, your heart racing as he leans into your touch. 

Yes, you love him. Truly and deeply, you love Tomura. 

He pushes forward, capturing your lips in a kiss as his thrusts grow more erratic, hungry for his own release as he groans against your lips. 

It doesn’t take long — Tomura gives a few more strong thrusts and meets his end, cumming inside of you with a mewl that you drink up. The twitch of his cock is subtle but the pearly white ropes fill you to the brim, leaving you ruined and raw as he pumps it as deeply as he could.

Tomura pulls away from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. Sweaty and sated you both try to catch your breath. 

His bedroom is quiet and still, making you both feel as though you were the only two in the world. You know that it is deep into the night and Tomura would still have to wake up early in the morning, but you know none of that matters to him.

No, Tomura couldn't care less as shares this moment with you, the stress finally expelled from his body and the weight lifted from his mind. 

His carmine eyes hold you captive as you melt into them and you realize then that you can’t see yourself anywhere but here — with Tomura. 

It's a chilling realization. 

Once you’ve both gathered your bearings and Tomura pulls out — taking his rightful place beside you, the overwhelming pull of sleep drags you along. 

Tomura leans forward, placing a soft kiss onto your forehead with whispers of goodnight and his newly relaxed demeanor is contagious. 

You know that you may be on borrowed time with him here, but that's okay.

Your eyes catch the crumpled flyer hanging near the trashcan by his desk, the words Almighty Medicine big and bold on the paper.

The feeling of sleep is heavy in your body, but your last thoughts are of a plan. 

You know there’s a way out of here. 

For both of you.

[starmocha]

Rock-a-Bye Sylus + Daughter | 1122 words | AO3 Sylus has a stubborn little birdie who won’t go to sleep. A/N: God, I was not prepared for this man to sing “Rock-a-Bye Baby.” My womb and I have not been the same since then.

Sylus sat behind his desk, going over some new intel he had received that night. The door to his office was opened ajar, the hallway dimmed light filtered in. As his eyes skimmed the documents, his deep voice rumbled softly, “Mephisto is in here with me, so who is that little birdie lurking outside my office?”

He smirked when he heard a tiny startled gasp. He looked up just in time to catch a small shadow quickly backing up against the wall to hide.

“Baby,” his voice called out, “come into Daddy’s office.”

He waited, seeing the hesitation from the person outside, and after nearly a minute, he watched his office door opened further, a little girl in a pink nightgown walked into his office looking guilty.

“It is eleven, why are you not in bed, baby?”

“How…did Daddy know it was me?”

Sylus tilted his head in amusement at the little girl’s question, his eyes drifting over to the mechanical crow in his office. His daughter noticed and she instantly stomped her foot. The little girl gave a pout and then she turned and glared at the mechanical bird perched near her father’s desk.

“Mephie tattled on me!”

The mechanical crow looked startled before it lowered its head in shame, giving a sad coo.

Sylus had a hard time hiding his amusement, chuckling at his daughter’s angry pout. “Don’t be mad at Mephisto, baby,” he said calmly, “Look, his feelings are hurt.”

Instantly, the little girl looked guilty for her outburst. She walked over to near Sylus’ desk and reached up on her tippy toes to stroke the crow’s feathers. Her voice was very small and remorseful, “I’m sorry, Mephie…”

Mephisto gave a cheerful caw, earning not only a smile from the little toddler but also her father.

Sylus reached over and patted his daughter’s head gently, smoothing out her hair. “Now, baby, do you want to tell me why you are still awake at this hour? I thought Luke and Kieran had put you to bed.”

“They did…” she responded, looking down at the white kitty cat slippers she was wearing. She shuffled her feet guiltily, and then confessed, “I miss Mommy…”

Sylus’ expression softened, empathizing deeply with the little three-year-old girl. He leaned back in his chair and patted his lap, gesturing for his daughter to come closer. Delighted, the little girl immediately scampered over and raised her arms, waiting for her father to lift her up. Sylus easily picked her up, settling her comfortably on his lap. He smiled when she snuggled closer to him.

“I know you miss Mommy, baby,” he started gently, “but Mommy is away on a mission right now. Didn’t she video chat with you and said good night earlier?”

“It’s not the same,” his daughter replied with a pout, crossing her arms stubbornly. She looked up at her father with wide, pleading eyes, “I want to stay up with Daddy.”

Sylus sighed and shook his head. “Daddy has business to take care of tonight.”

“I can be as quiet as a mouse, Daddy!”

Sylus chuckled and stroked her cheek affectionately, pleased when he heard her sweet little giggles. “I know you can, my little birdie,” he said, but shook his head again, “But this type of business is for grownups only.”

“Okay…” The little girl looked down sadly, her legs idly kicking back and forth as she stared at her kitty slippers.

Sylus stroked her hair to comfort her. “Come on, baby,” he said, “it’s well past your bedtime.”

“What about Daddy’s bedtime?”

“Daddy’s bedtime is in the morning,” Sylus answered curtly, carefully lifting his daughter into his arms as he stood up. She clung to him as he carried her out of his office. Cheekily, she waved at Mephisto as she was taken away. The mechanical crow cooed softly.

“Daddy?”

“What is it, baby?”

“Can’t I stay up with you?”

Before Sylus could respond, he caught sight of Luke and Kieran searching from room to room down the hallways. He stopped, and cleared his throat, alerting the twins.

“Did you two lose a little birdie?” He paused, and added with an exasperated sigh, “Again?”

“Uh, listen, Boss,” Luke started, panicking, “It wasn’t our fault!”

Kieran instantly agreed, “Yeah, we tucked her in real good. We even stood outside the door for ten minutes to make sure she didn’t sneak out again!”

“And yet she escaped. Again.”

“Boss—”

The little girl giggled. “Sorry, Lukey, Kier-Kier…”

Kieran sighed and crossed his arms. “Little Miss, you are lucky you are so adorable.”

Luke interjected, “Don’t worry, Boss, we’ll make sure she’ll go to bed this time—”

“Forget it,” Sylus cut in, already walking past the two. “I’ll tuck her in myself.”

The twins sighed and waved weakly at the smiley, waving girl.

As Sylus approached his daughter’s bedroom, he felt her squirming in his arms. He paused and looked down. “Is this little birdie trying to fly away?”

“Maybe…”

Sylus shook his head and opened the bedroom door. Inside the large room, there were countless toys and books, much too excessive for a little three-year-old girl to have, but money meant absolutely nothing to Sylus when it came to his daughter’s happiness. Sylus walked to the middle of the room where there was a large canopy bed with sheer pink curtains and fairy lights strewn about waiting for its little owner to return. As Sylus tucked his daughter into her bed, he noticed her sulking again. “Baby, it’s almost midnight. You should have been asleep four hours ago.”

“Can I have a song, Daddy?”

“Trying to strike a deal, are you?”

The girl gave her best pout and puppy dog eyes.

“Deal accepted,” Sylus answered, sitting down on his daughter’s bed. He smiled as she snuggled up to him. “You might be the only person around this place who appreciate my singing.”

Sylus smiled when he saw his daughter yawning. Despite her stubbornness the whole night, it wouldn’t take much to finally lull her to sleep. His large hand gently held onto her little hand, stroking it tenderly as his deep voice sung softly, “Rock-a-bye baby on the treetop…”

He watched as sleepy little eyes drifted close as he sang her a lullaby. When he had finished, his daughter was already sound asleep, cuddled up close to him, breathing softly. Sylus took a glance at a clock in his daughter’s bedroom.

He was already running late to the meeting.

The meeting could wait, Sylus decided. After all, the people waiting for him to arrive needed him, not the other way around. He settled more comfortably in bed next to his sleeping daughter, his deep humming the only sound heard in the large bedroom.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Be Kind

I Know You're Chokin' on Your Fears (2)

Scarlet Witch x Witch!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Mommy Wanda seems to be here to stay, but you're worried about just how long this will last

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, R calls SW Goddess, W refers to herself as Mommy, pet names (little one, pet, puppy), SW is abusive towards R, W takes care of R.

A/N: Wow look at all the fluff you guys get hahahahaha. Enjoy it while it lasts.

You lie in bed, eyes wide open, expecting any moment for the harshness to return. Your body still bears the tender bruises of the Scarlet Witch's punishments, but strangely, the pain hasn't been renewed. Every night, you brace yourself for the sting of red magic, but it never comes.

Tonight, as Wanda carries you to bed, a tremor of fear courses through you. Instinctively, you scramble off the bed, anticipating the punishment that never seems to fade. But Wanda is quick to scoop you back up, her touch gentle and soothing.

"It's okay, sweetie," she murmurs, her voice as soft as a lullaby. "Mommy's here now. She's gone, and I'm going to take care of you."

You cling to her, feeling the warmth of her embrace chase away the lingering shadows of fear. As she kisses away the imaginary boo boos, you can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you.

In Wanda's arms, there is no malice, no cruelty—only love and tenderness. And as you finally allow yourself to drift off to sleep, you know that you're safe, protected by Wanda.

You wake up to the tantalizing aroma of breakfast wafting through the air, stirring you from your slumber. With a jolt of panic, you scramble out of bed, your mind racing with thoughts of apologizing and groveling at the Scarlet Witch's feet for not being up sooner to cook breakfast for her.

But as you enter the kitchen, ready to beg for forgiveness, you're met with a scene that stops you in your tracks. Wanda stands before the stove, her voice like honey as she sings along to music in a language you don't quite understand. Her movements are graceful and fluid as she moves about the kitchen, a vision of beauty and serenity.

You watch in awe, feeling honored to behold such a mesmerizing sight. Gone is the harshness of the Scarlet Witch, replaced instead by the gentle warmth of Wanda.

For a moment, you forget about the bruises and the pain, lost in the tranquility of the moment. And as Wanda turns to you with a smile, offering you a plate of breakfast, you realize that perhaps, just perhaps, there is hope for a brighter future—one filled with love, kindness, and the warmth of a mother's embrace.

As Wanda pets you gently, her touch sending a wave of comfort through you, she asks a question that catches you off guard. "Do you like being her pet?"

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "I do, it's just... I don't know what I did to make her hurt me so much," you confess, feeling a lump form in your throat. You curl in on yourself, as if trying to shield yourself from the pain of the memories.

Wanda's expression softens with understanding as she listens to your words. "I think it was my fault. I kept telling her to let up, but..." You trail off, the rest of the sentence left unspoken but understood between the two of you.

"Just want to be a good puppy...be a good baby," you admit, feeling a sense of vulnerability wash over you. You lift your gaze to meet Wanda's, something you haven't been able to do since the Scarlet Witch became stricter.

Her green eyes shining like sea glass on the beach at noon that you marveled at. Her eyes held compassion and empathy, reflecting the depths of her understanding. In that moment, you feel a glimmer of hope, knowing that perhaps, with Wanda by your side, you can find the strength to overcome the darkness that has clouded your days.

As Wanda pets you gently, her touch sending a wave of comfort through you, she asks a question that catches you off guard. "Do you like being her pet?"

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "I do, it's just... I don't know what I did to make her hurt me so much," you confess, feeling a lump form in your throat. You curl in on yourself, as if trying to shield yourself from the pain of the memories.

Wanda's expression softens with understanding as she listens to your words. "I think it was my fault. I kept telling her to let up, but..." You trail off, the rest of the sentence left unspoken but understood between the two of you.

"Just want to be a good puppy...be a good baby," you admit, feeling a sense of vulnerability wash over you. You lift your gaze to meet Wanda's, something you haven't been able to do since the Scarlet Witch became stricter.

Her green eyes shine with compassion and empathy, reflecting the depths of her understanding. In that moment, you feel a glimmer of hope, knowing that perhaps, with Wanda by your side, you can find the strength to overcome the darkness that has clouded your days.

Wanda's words wash over you like a soothing balm, easing the turmoil within your heart. You bury your face into her hand, seeking solace in her touch as she cups your cheek.

"Oh sweet girl, you are good. It was nothing you did. It was Mommy's fault. She didn't like me treating you with kindness. Thought you'd like me better than her," Wanda reassures you, her voice filled with tenderness.

At the mention of possibly liking Wanda more than the Scarlet Witch, you snap to attention, panic seizing your heart. "No! No! Would never! She has to know that!" you protest, pushing up onto your knees, your head butting into Wanda's chest.

Wanda chuckles softly, her arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "Shhh, sweet girl. She knows. She's just... well, you know. She wants you all to herself, but doesn't know how to express that properly," she explains, her words laced with understanding. “You see the two of us have been through a lot before meeting you and I think she's still hurting over all of it.”

You tilt your head in confusion, trying to make sense of Wanda's words. "Are you still hurting over it?" you ask softly, your heart aching for the pain you sense in Wanda's voice.

"In a way, yes," Wanda admits, her gaze distant for a moment. "But when we met you and how much love you already had for us... well, you had love for her. I don't even know if you knew about me."

You shake your head, recalling the information you had stumbled upon years ago. "Wanda Maximoff. Avenger. Neuroelectric interface, telekinesis, and mental manipulation," you recite, a sense of pride swelling within you at the memory of your own resourcefulness.

Wanda tilts her head and smiles, her nose scrunching up in a way that fills you with butterflies. "A smart little puppy we have," she says, her words wrapping around you like a warm embrace. And in that moment, as you gaze up at her with adoration in your eyes, you know that you've found a mother's love in the Scarlet Witch's gentle counterpart.

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

A few weeks go by with Wanda, bruises all gone and everything that had been aching you was all gone.

As Wanda finished dressing you up in the cute outfit she had picked out, you couldn't contain your excitement. It was a first for you - going out with Wanda. Your Goddess always left you at home when she had errands to run, but Wanda was different. She was making a day out of it, and you couldn't wait to spend time with her.

You bounced around the living room, the anticipation bubbling within you. Wanda had dressed you in a pair of adorable shorttalls and a baby pink crop top, complete with cute socks and matching pink converse. She had even pulled your hair back into a half-up do with a three-strand braid, although it had taken her well over an hour thanks to your excitement.

"Oops, sorry Mommy!" you would exclaim each time you accidentally messed up the braid, turning around to see Wanda patiently fixing it yet again.

Eventually, though, she managed to get your hair under control, and she quickly got herself dressed in something much simpler. She wore a black tank top under a white see-through shirt, capris leggings, sunglasses perched on top of her head, and sneakers. Her hair was styled in a casual half-up bun.

As you stood side by side with Wanda, excitement coursing through your veins, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this moment. With each step you took, you felt a sense of freedom and joy that you hadn't experienced in a long time. And as you walked out the door with Wanda by your side, you knew that this would be a day to remember.

As you walked through the portal with Wanda, excitement coursing through you, you found yourself on the outskirts of a small town. The vibrant energy of the bustling village market filled the air, drawing you in like a magnet.

But before you could dash off into the crowd, Wanda gently reminded you of the rules. You let out a whine, tugging on her arm, but she held firm.

"1. Don't let go of your hand, 2. Don't talk to strangers, 3. I must call you Mommy," you repeated obediently.

Wanda smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "Good girl. Now we can go have fun."

Hand in hand, you and Wanda ventured into the village market, taking in the sights and sounds around you. The market was a vibrant tapestry of colors and smells, with vendors selling everything from fresh fruits and veggies to handmade pieces of art.

You marveled at the array of goods on display, feeling a sense of excitement building within you. It had been so long since you had been around people, and you had almost forgotten how nice it was to interact with others.

As you wandered through the market, a kind old lady caught your eye. She was sitting at a stall, surrounded by handmade stuffed animals, each one more adorable than the last. Your eyes lit up as you spotted a little possum nestled among the other creatures.

The old lady smiled warmly at you, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Would you like this little possum, dear?" she asked, her voice gentle and kind.

You nodded eagerly, feeling a surge of affection for the cute creature. "Yes, please!" you exclaimed, reaching out to take the stuffed animal from her.

The old lady's eyes sparkled with delight as she handed you the possum, her heart touched by your enthusiasm. "I'm so glad someone finally showed interest in the little one," she said, her voice tinged with emotion.

You hugged the stuffed possum close to your chest, feeling a connection with it unlike anything you had felt before. And as you looked up at Wanda, the woman who had shown you love and kindness when you needed it most.

Wanda's gesture of kindness towards the old woman warms your heart as you watch her pull out her coin purse, ready to pay for the stuffed possum you've grown so fond of. But the old woman holds up a hand, a gentle smile on her face.

"Nothing. I've had him for ages, and no one's ever taken interest in him," she says kindly, her eyes twinkling with gratitude.

Wanda returns the smile, her eyes soft as she looks down at you. "Can you say thank you, little one?" she asks, bending down slightly to catch your attention.

You look up at the old lady, feeling a surge of gratitude for her generosity. "Thank you," you say shyly, your voice filled with sincerity.

With a nod of appreciation, Wanda leads you away from the stall, the stuffed possum held securely in your arms. "Let's go grab the fruits and veggies we need before the sun goes down," she suggests, her voice filled with warmth.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of laughter and joy as you and Wanda explore the market together, picking out fresh fruits and veggies for dinner. You end the day on a sweet note, indulging in homemade ice cream from a stall before heading back home.

As you walk hand in hand with Wanda, the stuffed possum nestled against your chest, you can't help but feel grateful for the love and kindness she has shown you. And as the sun sets on another day, you know that you are exactly where you belong.

As you lay on the couch, cocooned in warmth and comfort, you revel in the tranquility of the moment. With Nugget, your newfound stuffed possum, nestled in your arms, you feel a sense of peace wash over you.You were on the couch curled up with your Mommy, your eyes closed and a blanket covering you now clad in your pajamas. Wanda rubbed your back while reading a book, not the book the Scarlet Witch possesses. Though you couldn't understand the language so you assumed it was Sokovian. Your eyes flutter closed, exhaustion tugging at your senses as you sink into the embrace of sleep.

But suddenly, a rough tug on your jaw jolts you awake, fear coursing through your veins as you come face to face with the familiar sight of red eyes looming over you. The voice that speaks is harsh and commanding, sending shivers down your spine.

"Did you miss me, pet?" the Scarlet Witch demands, her tone sending a wave of panic through you.

Without hesitation, you nod, your heart pounding in your chest as you scramble to get off the couch. But in your haste, you lose your balance and land hard on your knees, pain shooting through your limbs as you look up at your goddess who has finally returned.

In that moment, as you gaze up at her with a mixture of fear and reverence, you realize that despite the fleeting moments of calm and happiness you've experienced with Wanda, the Scarlet Witch's hold over you is as strong as ever.

[atinyslittleworld]

Drunkteez

maknaeline x f!reader

Genre: humour, explicit, fluff

Warnings: MDNI 18+

San

Y/N sighed as she unlocked the door to their apartment, half-carrying San, who was draped over her shoulder and giggling incoherently. He had enjoyed himself a little too much at the party tonight, and now it was her job to get him to bed in one piece.

“Come on, San, let’s get you to bed,” she coaxed, trying to steer him toward the bedroom.

San, however, had other ideas. He flopped down onto the couch, throwing his head back and laughing loudly. “Y/N, you know what? You know what I really want in life?” he slurred, looking at her with bleary eyes.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling at his drunken antics. “What’s that, San?”

“I just want… I just want to have a good time,” he declared, waving his arms dramatically. “And I want you. And… and…”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, curious about what was coming next. “And what?”

“And I want my dick sucked,” he finished, very pleased with himself.

Y/N burst out laughing. She couldn't help it. The way he said it, with such drunken earnestness, was too much. “San, you’re ridiculous,” she managed to say between giggles.

San looked confused, his brows furrowing. “What’s so funny? I’m serious! I just want you and my dick sucked!” He repeated, as if emphasizing the point would make it clearer.

Y/N shook her head, still laughing as she tugged him up from the couch. “Come on, let’s get you to bed, Casanova.”

San stumbled along beside her, still talking. “No, but seriously, Y/N. Like, in all the ways. There’s… there’s the… uh… the gentle way,” he started, counting on his fingers. “And then there’s the… the fast way. And then there’s…”

Y/N chuckled, guiding him into the bedroom. “San, you can tell me all about it in the morning when you’re sober.”

San pouted, but he let her help him into bed. “You’re no fun,” he mumbled as she pulled the covers over him.

Y/N leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Goodnight, San. Sweet dreams.”

San’s eyes fluttered closed, and he smiled contentedly. “Goodnight, Y/N. Don’t forget… about the… you know…”

Y/N shook her head fondly, watching as he finally drifted off to sleep. She couldn’t wait to tease him about this in the morning.

Mingi

Mingi had had a bit too much to drink at their friend’s party, and now she was struggling to get him ready for bed. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes glazed and a goofy smile plastered on his face. His shirt was half off, and he was doing absolutely nothing to help her get it the rest of the way.

“Come on, Mingi,” Y/N said with a sigh, trying to tug the shirt over his head. “Lift your arms.”

He just laughed, his hands staying limp at his sides. “Y/N, your hair looks like spaghetti,” he slurred, and then giggled as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at his silliness. “Thanks, babe. Now, arms up.”

Instead of following her instructions, Mingi's head lolled forward, and suddenly, his face was buried in her chest. Y/N froze, her cheeks heating up. This was not how she had envisioned the evening going.

“Mingi!” she exclaimed, trying to pull back, but his head was heavy, and she couldn’t quite manage to escape.

He mumbled something against her, his words muffled. She tried to push him back gently, but he was like dead weight. Finally, she managed to lift his head, his eyes blinking up at her with a dazed expression.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice suddenly serious. “I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?” she asked, still struggling to get the shirt off.

“One day,” he said, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to concentrate really hard, “I wanna try something.”

She paused, her curiosity piqued. “What do you want to try, Mingi?”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against her skin, and whispered, “I wanna rub my dick between your boobs.”

For a moment, Y/N was stunned into silence. Then, she burst out laughing, the sound filling the room. Mingi looked up at her, confused but happy that she was laughing.

“You’re so drunk,” she said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “But thank you for sharing that.”

Mingi pouted, clearly not understanding why she was laughing so hard. “I’m serious, Y/N.”

She kissed his forehead, finally managing to pull his shirt all the way off. “I know, babe. We can talk about it when you’re sober.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer, and flopped back onto the bed, instantly passing out. Y/N shook her head, still chuckling as she pulled the covers over him.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung stumbled into the apartment, his steps unsteady and his words slurred. "Y/N, I'm home!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the quiet space.

Y/N looked up from the book she was reading, shaking her head with a smile. She had expected this after his night out with the boys. "Here we go," she muttered to herself as she got up to help him.

She found him in the living room, struggling to take off his shoes. "Let me help you," she said, bending down to untie his laces. He swayed slightly, his eyes glazed over.

"Y/N, you're so pretty," he blurted out, his words tumbling over each other. "Do you know how pretty you are?"

"Thank you, Wooyoung," she replied, guiding him to the couch. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay?"

He nodded, his head bobbing up and down comically. She went to the kitchen, filled a bowl with cold water, and grabbed a washcloth. Returning to the living room, she sat beside him and gently began to wash his face.

The cold water seemed to wake him up a bit. He squinted at her, his expression serious. "Y/N, I have something to tell you," he said, his tone suddenly solemn.

"What is it?" she asked, trying to keep a straight face as she continued to wipe his face.

"I want you to tie me up," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

Y/N froze, staring at him in disbelief. "You what?"

He nodded earnestly. "Yeah, during sex. I think it would be fun."

She couldn't help it. A laugh bubbled up from her chest, and she let it out, shaking her head. "Wooyoung, you're drunk."

"No, I'm serious," he insisted, his face earnest. "I think about it all the time."

Still laughing, she set the washcloth aside and hugged him. "We'll talk about this in the morning when you're sober, okay?"

He pouted but nodded, resting his head on her shoulder. "Okay, but don't forget. It's important."

"I won't," she promised, still chuckling. "Now let's get you to bed."

She helped him to his feet and guided him to the bedroom, his arm slung over her shoulders. As they settled into bed, she couldn't stop smiling, thinking about the unexpected revelation. Wooyoung's breathing evened out quickly, and he fell asleep with a contented smile on his face.

Jongho

Y/N sighed as she looked over at her boyfriend, Jongho, sprawled out on the couch next to her. He had spent the evening celebrating with his friends and had returned home quite tipsy. Now, he was lying across her lap, his head resting on one of her thighs and his legs draped over the armrest. His weight pinned her down, making it impossible for her to stand up.

Jongho was in the middle of a long-winded, and very slurred, story about the escapades of his night out. His eyes were half-closed, and he gesticulated wildly with one hand, the other wrapped around an empty beer bottle.

"And then Seonghwa, he tried to... to dance on the table, but you know, he slipped, and—oh man, it was hilarious!" Jongho chuckled, his laughter vibrating through her legs.

"Jongho, I really need to get up," Y/N said gently, trying to shift her legs without much success.

Jongho, oblivious to her discomfort, continued his rambling. "Y/N, you should've been there. You would’ve loved it. Hongjoong was... was trying to sing, and it was so off-key, I thought my ears were going to fall off!"

Y/N couldn't help but smile at his drunken antics, but she really did need to move. "Jongho, can you sit up for a minute? I need to use the bathroom."

Suddenly, Jongho stopped mid-sentence. His eyes widened, and he looked up at her face, a serious expression replacing his earlier amusement. "Y/N," he said, his voice suddenly clear and earnest, "you know what I wanna do?"

She raised an eyebrow, curious about the abrupt change in tone. "What is it, Jongho?"

He took a deep breath and then, with all the sincerity in the world, said, "One night, during sex, when you’re in doggy... I wanna spank your ass."

There was a beat of silence as Y/N processed his words. And then, she burst into laughter, unable to hold it back. Jongho's earnest expression, combined with his tipsy state, made the whole situation incredibly amusing.

Jongho looked puzzled, his brows knitting together. "What's so funny?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"You," Y/N managed to say between giggles, "are hilarious when you're drunk."

He pouted, still not understanding the humor. "I'm serious, Y/N. I really wanna spank your ass."

She laughed even harder, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "Okay, okay, Jongho. We'll talk about this later. But first, can you please let me get up?"

Jongho finally seemed to realize he was pinning her down. With a groan, he rolled off her and onto the floor, where he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. "Fine, go to the bathroom," he said, waving a hand dismissively.

Y/N stood up, stretching her legs and still chuckling. She leaned down and kissed Jongho on the forehead. "You're the best, even when you're drunk and saying silly things."

Jongho grinned up at her, his eyes sparkling with affection. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too," she replied, heading towards the bathroom, still shaking her head in amusement at her boyfriend’s unexpected confession.

[bloodreinasbathwater]

Jacked Up Love

part 2

Jack Hughes X Best Friend! Reader

(Brothers Best Friend AU)

a.n: I have been debating whether to add some spice to this but after not seeing it fit my ending yet, it will be in part 4 or 5 instead. this one feels a little short but it's getting the story going until we have our final confrontation. I hope you guys enjoy and please message me if you have any questions or want to be added to the tag list. <3

warnings: flirting, not proofread, fuckboy jack, kissing, cursing, mentions of cheating?

masterlist link

Summary: Hurt and angry, Y/N avoids Jack for most of the night until he confronts her as the party winds down. Just as things are heating up between Y/N and Jack, Lee walks in on Y/N and Jack in an intimate moment.

word count - 4341

...

Jack chuckled as he observed Quinn and his dad bickering good-naturedly over the stove. Quinn kept trying to slather more sauce onto the ribs, much to Jim's exasperation.

"No, no, you're doing it all wrong!" Jim complained, attempting to wrestle the basting brush from Quinn's hand. "You're supposed to let the meat speak for itself, not drown it in that sugary nonsense."

Quinn rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, live a little! Everyone knows the secret to killer ribs is in the sauce dad."

Their playful argument carried across the large house, drawing amused glances from the other partygoers. Jack shook his head, grinning at their antics. He loved these laid-back gatherings in the winter, where everyone could just kick back and enjoy each other's company.

Turning his attention back to Lee, Jack tried to focus on their conversation about the latest Cardinals game. "...and did you see that pass in the third period?" Lee was saying excitedly, his hands waving animatedly as he recounted the highlights of the game. "I thought for sure they were going to score off that turnover."

Luke nodded, taking a swig of his beer. "Yeah, man, that was a close call. But the goalie really stepped up his game tonight. Those saves were unreal."

They continued to chat, their voices rising and falling with the ebb and flow of their enthusiasm. He tried to focus on the words, but a familiar laugh rang out, causing his heart to skip a beat. Jack's attention drifted from Lee's animated play-by-play of the game, his gaze inexorably drawn to where you stood by the dessert table with your girlfriends.

You were laughing at something Mia had said, your eyes sparkling with mirth. Jack watched, transfixed, as you tipped your head back, exposing the smooth column of your throat. Time seemed to slow as he took in the sight of you, the rest of the party fading into the background.

Lee, oblivious to Jack's distraction, continued chattering on about batting averages and on-base percentages. But Jack was only half-listening, his attention continually drawn back to you. "Hey, Jack! Did you catch that insane goal in overtime?"

Jack merely hummed noncommittally, his tone casual. "Yeah, yeah, I saw that. Pretty sick shot."

His gaze traced the curve of your smile, the fullness of your lips. An ache blossomed in his chest, a longing so acute it stole his breath. What would it feel like, he wondered, to have those lips pressed against his own? To trail his fingers along the silken expanse of your skin, to hear you sigh his name in the darkness?

In a trance, Jack's eyes roamed over you, drinking in every detail. The way your dress clung to your curves, the faint smell of your perfume on the jacket he had offered you outside, which of course you had given back covered in your smell. You were a masterpiece, a work of art come to life.

God, you were beautiful.

And then, as if sensing the weight of his stare, you turned. Your eyes met his across the flickering flames, and the world ground to a halt. In that suspended moment, Jack felt a jolt of electricity coursing through his veins, a pull towards you that was almost gravitational.

Your lips curved into a soft, secret smile, and Jack's heart stuttered in his chest. That smile held a thousand unspoken promises, a wealth of possibility that both terrified and thrilled him. He knew he should look away, knew he was treading on dangerous ground. But he was powerless to resist the magnetic allure of your gaze, the siren song of your presence.

Did you have any idea what you did to him? How much he wanted to pull you into his arms, consequences be damned?

He took a swig of his beer, trying to calm the riot of emotions swirling inside him. This was getting out of hand. He needed to get a grip on himself before he did something stupid.

Like confess his feelings for you, the one girl who was absolutely, completely off-limits...

Shaking his head, Jack forced himself to focus on Lee's words, determined to push all thoughts of you from his mind. At least for now.

But deep down, he knew it was futile. Because when it came to you, resistance had always been impossible. And maybe, just maybe... that was starting to feel more thrilling than frightening.

"Right? I thought the puck was going to bounce right off the crossbar, but nope - top shelf, baby!" Lee nodded, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling around him.

…

"No, but seriously," Ava said, her face deadpan, "I think I'm going to start a GoFundMe for my boss's fashion sense. It's a tragedy, really. The man needs an intervention."

Sophie snorted. "What, you mean the 'middle-aged dad on vacation' look isn't working for him?"

"Please," you chimed in, grinning, "I've seen actual dads on vacation with better style. He's more like... a cross between a used car salesman and a cruise ship entertainer."

Mia nearly choked on her drink. "Oh my god, I can't unsee it now. The tacky Hawaiian shirts, the ill-fitting khakis..."

"Don't forget the socks with sandals!" Ava added, shuddering dramatically.

You all burst into laughter, the absurdity of the image too much to handle. Your shoulders shook with mirth, tears of hilarity pricking at the corners of your eyes. But then, gradually, you became aware of a prickling sensation on the back of your neck. The unmistakable feeling of being watched, the stare burning into your skin like a physical caress.

Still giggling, you scanned the crowd of faces, trying to catch the culprit. Your gaze flitted from person to person - Uncle Joe by the cooler, Quinn and Jim still arguing over the grill, a group of Lee's friends from college - but no one seemed to be paying you any attention.

Until your eyes locked with a pair of striking blue ones.

Jack.

The laughter died on your lips as your breath caught in your throat. He was staring at you intensely. The old, faded baseball cap perched backwards on his head did little to tame his unruly dark hair, and the worn grey hoodie he wore strained against the muscles of his chest and shoulders.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you drank him in, heat rising unbidden to your cheeks. In that suspended moment, it was as if everyone else simply fell away, leaving only you and Jack, connected by some invisible, unbreakable thread.

But then Lee came into view, saying something to Jack with an easygoing grin. The spell was broken as quickly as it had been cast, uncertainty flooding in to fill the void.

Swallowing hard, you tore your gaze away, only to find Mia watching you with a knowing smirk. Her green eyes sparkled with barely contained laughter, and you knew you'd been caught red-handed.

"Shut up," you muttered, feeling your face flame even hotter.

Mia held up her hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I didn't say anything! But seriously, Y/N, when are you going to put that poor boy out of his misery and jump his bones already?"

"Mia!" you hissed, mortified. "It's not... I can't... he's Lee's best friend!"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "So? That doesn't mean you two can't get your freak on. Just think of how hot the sneaking around would be..."

You buried your face in your hands, torn between laughter and abject horror. "I hate you all. You're the worst friends ever."

Ava slung an arm around your shoulders, grinning. "Nah, you love us. And you know we've got your back, no matter what. Even if 'what' is climbing that tall, dark, and broody tree over there like it's your job."

Despite your embarrassment, you couldn't help but dissolve into giggles once more, your heart feeling lighter than it had all evening.

…

You snuggled deeper into the cozy embrace of the blanket, content to simply bask in the company of your friends. Ava, Mia, and Sophie had settled into the chairs around you, the conversation flowing as easily as the alcohol.

As the minutes ticked by, you found yourself growing increasingly drowsy, the events of the day finally catching up to you. Your eyelids grew heavy, and you had to fight to keep them open. Dimly, you registered Quinn hopping off rib duty, his arm slung around his girlfriend's shoulders as they made their way to the other living room, easily getting swept into his mothers conversation.

A moment later, Lee and Luke disappeared upstairs, their good-natured trash talk about the upcoming NHL game fading as the door swung shut behind them. Suddenly, feeling restless, you stood up - only to sway on your feet, the blanket flopping back down onto the love seat.

The world tilted alarmingly, and for a dizzying second, you were certain you were about to face-plant right into new glass table Ellen had bought.

quick as a flash, strong hands gripped your arms, steadying you. Before you could process what was happening, you found yourself being tugged down onto a solid, warm lap.

"Hi, Mini," Jack's deep, honeyed voice rumbled in your ear, sending a shiver racing down your spine that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. Your heart leapt into your throat, a giddy thrill coursing through you at his close proximity. This was the closest you'd been to him all night, and the heat of his body seemed to seep into your very bones.

Tipping your head back, you met his gaze, a slow smile spreading across your face. There was just something about Jack, something that never failed to bring a grin to your lips and a flutter to your pulse.

Whatever it was, you knew you were hopelessly entangled in his web, caught in a pull that only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

"Hi yourself," you murmured, your voice coming out breathier than you'd intended. "You come here often?"

Jack's lips quirked, his arms tightening around your waist. "Well, you know me. I never could resist a damsel in distress."

You laughed, swatting at his chest. "My hero. Whatever would I do without you?"

His expression softened, something tender and unguarded flickering in his gaze. "Guess you'll never have to find out, huh?"

Your breath caught at the unspoken promise in his words, the implications hanging heavy in the scant space between you. Suddenly, the air felt charged, electric, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks.

Awareness prickled over your skin as you stared up at him, your senses hyperattuned to every flex of his fingers on your hip, every hitch in his breathing. The rest of the world seemed to recede, fading into insignificance until there was only this - the crackle of the fire, the pounding of your heart, and the magnetic pull of Jack's eyes on yours.

It would be so easy, you thought hazily, to just lean in and close the distance between you. To finally, finally discover if his lips were as soft as they looked, if he tasted as good as you'd always imagined...

But then a burst of raucous laughter from across the yard shattered the spell, jolting you back to reality. You blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks as you realized just how close you'd been to kissing your brother's best friend - in full view of everyone, no less.

Clearing your throat, you started to pull away, only for Jack's arms to tighten around you. "Hey," he said softly, his voice low and intimate. "Where do you think you're going?"

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering against your ribs. "I... I should probably go check on Lee upstairs. He gets super sensitive over chel, you know that." It was a flimsy excuse, and from the knowing glint in Jack's eyes, he wasn't buying it for a second. But he loosened his hold, nonetheless, letting you slide off his lap on unsteady legs.

"Hurry back," he murmured, his gaze hot and heavy on your skin. "I'll be waiting."

And as you stumbled away, your pulse racing and your mind awhirl, you couldn't help but wonder...

What the hell had you just gotten yourself into?

You knew you needed to be more careful, needed to keep a tighter rein on your reactions to Jack. The last thing you wanted was for Lee to catch on to the tangle of feelings knotting in your chest.

…

You managed to tear yourself away from the magnetic pull of Jack's presence, mumbling some excuse to your friends about needing to use the bathroom. But instead of heading inside, you found yourself climbing the stairs, drawn by the muffled shouts and laughter emanating from Lee's bedroom.

As you reached the top of the landing, the sounds of aggressive button-mashing and colorful trash talk grew louder, bringing a smile to your face. Some things never changed.

Pushing open the door, you were greeted by the sight of Lee and Luke sprawled out on the floor, controllers in hand, their eyes glued to the giant TV screen. They were in the middle of an intense NHL match, their players zipping across the virtual ice in a blur of motion.

"No, no, no!" Lee yelled, his face scrunched up in concentration as he mashed the buttons frantically. "Don't let him get past you, you idiot!"

Luke cackled, his fingers flying over his own controller. "Too late, bro! That's what you get for picking such a weak-ass team."

Lee let out a growl of frustration as Luke's player scored a goal, the tinny sound of a horn blaring from the speakers. "Lucky shot," he grumbled, elbowing his friend in the ribs. "I'll get you back for that."

"Bring it on, loser," Luke taunted, his grin wide and shit-eating. "I could beat you with one hand tied behind my back."

You leaned against the doorframe, shaking your head in amusement as you watched them bicker and shove at each other like overgrown children. It was moments like these that made you forget all about the stresses and uncertainties of adulthood, transporting you back to simpler times.

"Having fun, boys?" you asked, your voice cutting through their competitive banter.

Two heads swiveled in your direction, identical expressions of surprise on their faces. "Oh, hey, Y/N," Lee said, his annoyance melting into an easy smile. "Didn't see you there."

"Yeah, we were just schooling each other in the art of hockey," Luke chimed in, puffing out his chest. "Wanna see me kick your brother's ass?"

You snorted, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering into the room. "As much as I'd love to witness that thrashing, I actually came up to see if you guys wanted any snacks. Though from the looks of it, you've already got enough beef to feed a small army."

Lee rolled his eyes, chucking a pillow at your head which you deftly dodged. "Har har, very funny. But yeah, some snacks would be awesome. I'm starving."

"When are you not starving?" you teased, ruffling his hair affectionately. "I swear, you're like a human garbage disposal."

"Hey, I'm a growing boy!" Lee protested, swatting your hand away. "I need my sustenance."

Luke snickered, ducking as Lee tried to smack him with a controller. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that, buddy. I think you stopped growing in the eighth grade."

As the two dissolved into another round of good-natured ribbing, you couldn't help but laugh, your heart swelling with fondness for these ridiculous, wonderful boys.

They might drive you crazy sometimes, but moments like these? Where you could just relax and joke around, forgetting about all the complications and uncertainties of the real world?

They were priceless.

So you settled yourself on the bed, content to watch Lee and Luke battle it out on the digital ice, their laughter and trash talk washing over you like a balm.

And for a little while, at least, you let yourself forget about the heat of Jack's gaze, the confusion swirling in your heart.

…

you headed back downstairs, the warmth of your impromptu hangout session with Lee and Luke still buzzing pleasantly under your skin, you couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of resolve.

So what if you had some complicated, confusing feelings for Jack? So what if his mere presence sent your pulse racing and your thoughts spiraling into dangerous, uncharted territory? At the end of the day, he was like a brother to you - and that was something you couldn't afford to lose.

Squaring your shoulders, you stepped down into the living room, determined to put some distance between yourself and the magnetic pull of Jack's orbit. You'd just grab another drink, maybe chat with your friends for a bit, and then make some excuse about needing to head home early. Easy peasy.

Ava, Mia, and Sophie were huddled together, their heads bent close as they whispered furiously to each other. The easy laughter and playful banter from earlier had vanished, replaced by a tense, almost electric undercurrent that set your nerves on edge.

"Hey guys," you said cautiously, sinking down into your seat. "What's going on?"

Three pairs of eyes snapped to your face, wide and startled, like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Oh, Y/N! We were just..." Mia trailed off, shooting a panicked look at the other two.

Sophie jumped in, her voice a little too bright, a little too brittle. "We were just talking about... boys. You know, the usual."

But there was something off about her tone, something strained and artificial that set your internal alarms blaring. You'd known these girls long enough to tell when they were hiding something - and right now? They were definitely hiding something.

"Cut the crap, Soph," you said, your gaze flicking between the three of them. "I know you guys better than that. Seriously, what's up? You're starting to freak me out."

"Y/N, we need to talk. It's about Jack."

Your stomach dropped, a cold, creeping dread slithering up your spine at the mention of his name, but you tried to play it cool. "What about him?"

Mia and Sophie exchanged a loaded glance, she nodded encouragingly, their faces grim as Mia spoke up, her voice low and conspiratorial. "We overheard him talking to Luke earlier, and... well, he said some things. About you."

Your mind raced, a thousand possibilities whirling through your head. What could she possibly mean? A cold sense of dread trickled down your spine. "What kind of things?"

Sophie bit her lip, looking uncomfortable. "He was laughing about how easy it was to string you along, how you were just another notch in his bedpost. He even said..." She paused, as if gathering her courage. "He said he had a bet going with his teammates to see how fast he could get you into bed."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from your lungs. It couldn't be true. Jack wouldn't... he couldn't...not after tonight.

But even as you tried to deny it, doubt began to creep in, insidious and corrosive. All those moments between you - the stolen glances, the lingering touches, the whispered promises - had they all been a lie? A cruel game played by a master manipulator?

Anger surged through you, hot and bitter, mingling with the sharp sting of betrayal. How could you have been so stupid, so naive?

"I... I need some air," you mumbled, stumbling to your feet and away from the concerned gazes of your friends.

you wove your way through the crowd of laughing, chattering partygoers, a sudden commotion near the edge of the yard caught your attention. Frowning, you craned your neck, trying to get a better look - only for your heart to plummet straight into your stomach.

There, surrounded by his friends near the Christmas tree, was Jack - and he wasn't alone. A tall, stunning brunette was glued to his side, their arms pressed flush against each other as she leaned into him, whispering something in his ear.

For a moment, you couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but stare as a tidal wave of emotions crashed over you. Hurt, betrayal, and a searing, white-hot jealousy that took your breath away with its intensity.

You watched, frozen, as Jack threw his head back and laughed at something the girl said, throwing his arm over her shoulder. They looked so comfortable together, so natural - like they'd done this a thousand times before.

And just like that, the fragile bubble of denial you'd been clinging to burst, the illusion shattering like glass at your feet.

You were such a fool.

Of course Jack didn't have feelings for you. Of course he saw you as nothing more than his best friend's kid sister, a silly little girl with a hopeless crush. How could you have ever thought otherwise?

For the rest of the night, you did your best to avoid Jack, always keeping him in your peripheral vision but never letting him get too close. Every time you caught a glimpse of his tousled hair or heard the rumble of his deep laugh, your heart clenched painfully, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over you.

But as the party began to wind down and guests started to trickle out, you found yourself cornered by the one person you'd been desperately trying to evade.

"Y/N." Jack's voice was low and urgent as he caught your elbow, spinning you around to face him.

"Nothing," you managed to choke out, your voice cracking traitorously. "I'm fine. I just... I need to go."

But even as you tried to pull away, Jack's grip on your arm tightened, his fingers digging into your skin with a desperate sort of urgency. "Wait, please. Just talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

You yanked your arm from his grasp, glaring up at him with all the fury and hurt you could muster. "I have nothing to say to you, Jack."

His brow furrowed, confusion etched across his unfairly handsome features. "What's going on? You've been avoiding me all night. Did I... did I do something wrong?"

"Why do you care?" you spat, the words bitter and acidic on your tongue. "Shouldn't you be getting back to your girlfriend over there?" Jack blinked, a flicker of confusion passing over his stupidly handsome face. A harsh, bitter laugh tore from your throat. "Don't play dumb, Jack. I know all about your little bet. About how I'm just another checkmark to you."

Jack's eyes widened, shock and disbelief warring on his face. "What? Y/N, that's insane. I would never... who told you that?"

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest like a shield. "Does it matter? The point is, I know the truth now. I know what kind of guy you really are."

He took a step closer, crowding into your personal space, his gaze locked on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. "The truth? The truth is that I'm crazy about you, Y/N. I have been for years." Your heart stuttered in your chest, a traitorous flutter of hope sparking to life. "That girl... she's just a friend. I swear. There's nothing going on between us," he insisted, his voice low and fervent.

One hand came up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that made you ache. "I could never lie to you, Y/N. You're... you're everything to me."

You wanted to believe him. God, how you wanted to believe him. But the seeds of doubt had already taken root, twisting your thoughts into knots.

"I don't... I can't..." you whispered, hating the way your voice shook.

Jack's other hand found your waist, pulling you flush against the solid warmth of his body. "Then let me prove it to you," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Let me show you how much you mean to me."

And then his mouth was on yours, fierce and desperate and achingly perfect, his kiss searing away every last shred of resistance. You melted into him, a broken moan rising in your throat as his tongue swept over yours, claiming and possessing and branding you as his own.

The kiss was electric, a live wire igniting every nerve ending in your body until you felt like you might burst into flames right then and there. His hands slid into your hair, his fingers tangling in the silky strands as he angled your head, deepening the kiss until you were drowning in him, lost to everything but the heat of his touch and the sweet, dark bliss of his mouth on yours.

"It's you, Y/N," he rasped, his voice low and raw with emotion. "It's always been you." 😉

just as you were losing yourself completely in his embrace, a familiar voice cut through the haze of desire, shattering the intimate bubble you'd created. "Where's Y/N?" Lee called out, his footsteps echoing on the stairs.

You and Jack froze, your lips still locked together, your bodies intertwined. What were you doing? Making out with your brother's best friend, in the middle of a party, where anyone could see you...

Jack sensed your sudden tension, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with arousal, but there was a softness there too, a tenderness that made your heart ache.

"Shit," you muttered. Your mind raced, frantically searching for an excuse, any excuse. "I… I'll just tell him I was in the bathroom or we were just talking," you whispered, straightening your clothes with shaking hands.

"Hey," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair back from your face. "It's okay. We don't have to hide."

You swallowed hard, your throat tight with emotion. "But Lee... what if he..."

"What if I what?" Lee's voice was closer now, just on the other side of the door.

Your heart lodged in your throat, fear and guilt and a desperate, wild hope all tangling together in your chest. This was it. The moment of truth. Once Lee walked through that door, there would be no going back.

...

Tag List <3

[kxrms]

🗣️ I 🗣️ DRIFT 🗣️ TONIGHT 🗣️ CARRIED 🗣️ BY 🗣️ THE 🗣️ WAVES 🗣️ 🌊

[vin-taege]

Chishiya x reader fic at The Beach where Kuina makes the three of them play “put a finger down” (she ships y/n and chishiya)

Fair Game (m)

Summary: Perhaps you got too competitive over a drinking game, but in your defense, Kuina started it.

Genre: fluff, suggestive themes, gets a little smutty in the end lmao

Pairing: reader x chishiya; platonic!reader x kuina

Words: 1.9k

Note: I got carried away uvu this was supposed to be just fluff but oh well. Part 2 is out now, which you can read here!

"Come on! We deserve a rest night after that spades game," Kuina poured your cup full of beer despite your complaints. Chishiya stared into his own glass with no intention of ever touching it.

Kuina slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to her before she raised her glass up. "Kampai!"

"Kampai," you said with forced enthusiasm. You didn't want to put a damper on her mood, so you brought the glass up to you face and tipped it just enough for the cool liquid to touch your lips. After a few seconds, you pulled away, licking the sticky residue off. Chishiya chuckled softly when you grimaced.

You turned your head slightly to Chishiya's side, sticking a tongue out at him. He reciprocated with an eyebrow raise.

Kuina took no notice. Instead, she opted to grab a handful of chips and munched happily on them. Her chatter filled the room in between mouthfuls.

As much as you tried to pay attention to what she's saying, your mind couldn't help but drifting off to he blonde next to you. He would offer a hum or one-worded responses every now and then, but his eyes were lost far in the distance. You wondered what was going on inside his mind—what plans were being concocted. He had offhandedly mentioned wanting to steal the cards, but you weren't sure if he was being serious. Then again, Chishiya wasn't the easiest person to read.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped towards you.

The corner of his mouth turned up into a small smirk—his ego undoubtedly fueled after catching you in the act.

"Hey, can the both of you stop eye-fucking each other next to me?"

You whipped your head towards Kuina, a deep blush fiercely filling your cheeks. With your head turned, you didn't notice the tip of Chishiya's ears tinting red.

'We weren't—"

"You guys are no fun to drink with," she pouted. "I'm bored. And we haven't gotten through the case yet."

"Kuina," Chishiya mused, speaking clearly for the first time tonight. "You knew what you were getting yourself into. _____ and I aren't exactly the life of the party."

"No, no. I think its because I sense a bit of..." she paused, pouring herself another glass. "...tension!"

By the way she giggled, you knew the tipsiness was starting to creep in. There was a mischievous glint in her eyes. "As this group's designated cupid, I propose a fun activity for all of us!"

"And by us, you mean just me and Chishiya?"

"Exactly! It's no fun if the host joins in the games," Kuina repoured both your glasses, much to your mutual disappointment. "Trust me, you need to be tipsy for this to be fun."

"I can only think of things going downhill from here," Chishiya stretched his arms upwards. Kuina grimaced, throwing some crushed chips against him. Chishiya didn't even blink.

"Okay!" She clapped her hands, the loudness making you flinch. "Do you guys know the game 'put a finger down'?"

"Oh shit," you muttered, immediately downing the shot. "Here we go."

"Gameplay is simple! Put a finger down if the statement is true for you. The last person who puts all fingers down wins."

To your surprise, Chishiya straightened in his seat. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. Reaching over, he grabbed his glass, taking a big gulp of beer like it was nothing. "So a heart game?"

"Shut up, no game talk tonight. No scheming, no cards. Now put your hand up!" She frantically waved her hands upward.

Hesitantly, you held your open hand up. Chishiya followed suite a few seconds later. Truthfully, you didn't know what Kuina had planned—or why you were playing this stupid game in the first place.

But hey, this might be a way to know the elusive man better. Plus, a part of you was curious of how this would turn out.

Kuia beamed at your willingness. "Okay, we'll go easy on the first round. Put a finger down if you'd been in a game with someone you were attracted to."

"I thought you said no game talk," Chishiya deadpanned.

"Chishiya, I will cut your hair off in your sleep."

Despite the eye roll, he held the snarky reply back. He slowly looked over to you, your own gaze avoiding his. The both of you were waiting for the other person to make a move, and it looked like no one would budge.

"Fucking hell, give me this," you groaned, reaching over for the beer bottle. Taking a big swig, you put a finger down.

Sure, you were in multiple club and diamond games with Chishiya. But you didn't need to specify who you were attracted to. By all means, it could have been Arisu. Or Tatta. Yeah, Tatta was an attractive gentleman and a formidable love interest.

Kuina's smile grew wider. She turned her attention to Chishiya, looking on at him expectantly.

He hummed, curling a finger down. Your heart was pounding, but you didn't know why. Could it be you? Surely not. Chishiya never made any romantic advances nor gave hints of his attraction. But he also wasn't the type to be expressive about these things.

"Nice! See, this isn't so bad," Kuina refilled her glass and Chishiya's. "Okay. Put a finger down if you've pined over someone before."

You mulled this over. Did you pine over Chishiya? You've thought about him a lot, but only as a friend. Well, except those times where you've imagined how his hair looked all tousled in the morning, or how you've fantasized about his lithe fingers dancing on your skin, or how his lips always looked so inviting and soft.

Shit. Was this pining?

Chishiya saw the hesitation on your face. He murmured, "Whatever you're thinking of, if you're thinking of it that deeply, the answer may be yes."

You gave an annoyed sigh, putting another finger down. After taking a long drink, you cheeks were starting to feel warmer.

"You shouldn't be drinking that much that fast," he said cooly. He swiped the bottle, taking a drink out of it as well.

"What are you drinking for? You're safe this round." you spouted bitterly.

"For the future," he grinned back.

Kuina was barely containing her excitement. She was dying to get down her line of questions. Without wasting another second, she passed you a second bottle. "Put a finger down if you've ever been in love."

Now it was Chishiya's turn to have second thoughts. Love was a broad term. Did he care about you? Yes. Would he take a bullet for you? Maybe. Did this mean he was in love? Debatable.

He glanced over at you, surprised to see a third finger down already. You held his stare, challenging him to answer. He huffed, moving his second finger halfway down.

"That doesn't count!" you complained, looking towards Kuina for reassurance. "Only definite yes or no's."

"You could say I'm in the process of it," Chishiya retorted. "It's not my fault you're losing this game."

You gasped dramatically. It might have been the alcohol talking, but before you knew it, a couple of choice words slipped out your mouth.

"Bullshit! I'm losing only because I'm not in denial or whatever. I'm telling the truth, right Kuina?"

The wide-eyed girl stuttered, struggling to get a response out before you cut her off.

"And these questions are all aimed at me anyway. This game is rigged! So Shuntaro, we're playing it my way now. Fair game. We take turns with the questions."

His eyes darkenedat the name, a devilish smirk growing on his face. "Fine. This round doesn't count then."

"Wait a minute-" Kuina tried to butt in, panicking a little after her game has been hijacked.

"Put a finger down," you talked over her before pausing for dramatic effect. "If you've dreamt of me."

Chishiya was a light sleeper. His body clock had adjusted to the nature of his work—him being on call meant more patients and less rest. But there were rare times he did fall into a deep sleep. Usually when he was especially tired that day. And during these times, he dreamt.

This happened only once in the Borderlands. It was after a diamonds game, which he admittedly wouldn't have gotten out of if it weren't for your quick thinking. That was the night he dreamt of holding your hand.

But he'll never divulge this specific dream to anyone. He'll take it to his grave.

He put a definite second finger down. "Yeah, I've dreamt of pushing you off the rooftop."

You snorted, not buying his bluff. His eyes trailed towards the beer bottle again. His body moved before he could think, and by then he has taken another drink using his free hand. "My turn."

"Put a finger down if I've made you blush before."

Sighing, you put a third finger own again. "Blushing doesn't always mean something good, you cocky loser."

"There's only one loser here and they're sitting next to me," he laughed.

You grabbed a throw pillow, repeatedly smacking it against his arm. Chishiya's laughter grew louder. You paused—this was different. This was the first genuine and unfiltered laugh you've heard from him. Was the alcohol finally getting to him? Or could it have been that he was genuinely enjoying this.

Kuina froze as well, noticing the same thing.

"Yeah well, go put a finger down if I've made you hard then. Ha!" You were fired up. You wanted to stick it to him. He can't just treat you like a silly child all the time. You were independent and capable and losing your train of thought when you saw him put a third finger down without breaking eye contact.

A tense silence ensued. Your mouth hung agape, hand stuck forming a peace sign in the air as you stared at Chishiya's hand. Kuina sipped her beer silently, eyes darting back and forth between you both. Chishiya broke the silence.

"Put a finger down," Chishiya began, voice lower, tone almost taunting. "If you ever came to the thought of me."

You locked eyes, neither wanting to back down. Your eyebrows knit in determination, but you were stumped. What the hell were you supposed to do?

"Okay guys, maybe we should give the hosting back to me," Kuina nervously chuckled, feeling like she's witnessing something she shouldn't. "Let's go back to the original question. Have you ever been in love?"

No answer.

Chishiya's gaze pierced you through his hooded eyes. You leaned closer to him, narrowing your eyes.

"Guys?" Kuina's smile slowly dropped. Fuck, maybe the game worked a bit too well. "Well look at the time, I've got to get going.".

She stumbled out the room, tripping over her platforms. She hadn't even closed the door when she heard a soft thud. Turning her head in time, she saw you leap onto Chishiya, the blonde catching you with open arms.

You didn't hear the door click shut, nor notice her leaving. The only thing you were focused on was Chishiya's lips against yours.

He kissed you hungrily, gripping your waist with his hands and pressing your crotch against his. He flipped you over, pinning you between him and the couch. Grabbing your legs, he pulled you harshly closer to him, making you slide down the cushions.

Your lips connected once more, hands tangling in his hair.

"You lost," he rasped in between kisses.

"Shut up and make me cum, loser." You rolled your hips against his.

At the back of your mind, you hoped that you wouldn't forget to thank Kuina in the morning.

[daisynik7]

Sweet Like Honey

Chapter 2: After I Love You

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.0k

cw: established relationship, fluff, smut – PIV sex (missionary, cowgirl), nipple play, cunnilingus, fingering, slight bondage, cream pie, sex without a condom, pet names (sweetheart, baby), daddy kink (very brief)

Summary: You and Nanami say I love you for the first time in your childhood bedroom, where you almost get carried away. That night, the two of you continue what you started.

Author’s Notes: Here is the second spicy side story for A Bento for Kento! This is the smutty aftermath of The Apple of His Eye Chapter 1, in case anyone wants to read that first if you haven’t already! Anyways, this is a repost (I originally posted this last year), but it’s been edited and rewritten to match my current style. I hope you enjoy! Dividers by @/cafekitsune.

Previous Chapter | Sweet Like Honey Masterlist | Next Chapter

Kento, I love you. 

I really love you, Kento.

Waves of euphoria ripple throughout Nanami when he hears her say it. For a second, he stays still, unable to move. He can only stare at her with wide eyes, speechless. Then, without thinking, he kisses her full on the lips, his composure crumbling from the weight of those words. 

She loves him. And he loves her. They love each other. 

Before he knows it, he’s on top of her, dress all the way up to her neck, lips wet from kissing, his cheeks hot and tinted pink as he explores her almost bare body. It isn’t until he hears stomping when he realizes he’s about to make love to his girlfriend in her childhood bedroom during a family party. A party where he just met her parents, who are right below them. 

They break apart promptly, Ren swinging the door open to invite them to a game of charades. Good, clean, innocent fun. Unlike what they were about to partake in if they weren’t so conveniently interrupted. It’s for the best, Nanami thinks, as he stands with his back towards the door, hiding the growing bulge in his pants from his former student/future brother-in-law. If they continued down that dangerous road, there’s no way they would have kept quiet. Not with the emotions that they have for each other now.

Show me how much you love me. Tonight. Let’s finish what we started.

That’s what she suggests. Nanami doesn’t expect them to actually have sex tonight, since they are riding back to her home with Ren. So, he dismisses it as a naughty comment made in a moment of passion. 

They spend a few more hours at the party, playing charades, mingling with her family, and eating more delicious food. He takes every chance he can to touch her, from holding her hand to stroking her back. He doesn’t take his eyes off her. How can he? This sweet angel loves him. 

Near the end of the night, Ren informs them that he’ll be staying the weekend with his parents; his sister has the house all to herself. This intrigues Nanami, excites him. He’s spent the night at her place plenty of times, but with her protective younger brother sleeping in the next room, they’ve had to set boundaries with each other when it comes to intimacy. This means no sex whatsoever when Ren is there, which they’ve miraculously managed to abide by so far. 

The thought of making love to her in her house, the one forbidden sanctuary, is titillating. Too many times has he almost given into temptation as they shared her bed, bodies snuggled together, his hands always drifting to the most sensual parts of her. They’ve held back each time they kissed goodnight, the desire to go further heavy against their lips, as her brother snores on the opposite side of the wall. And now tonight, after a perfect day spent with the woman he loves, he has no intentions of holding back, not when this rare opportunity has been presented to them. He plans to take full advantage of it. 

Show me how much you love me. Let’s finish what we started.

That’s what she suggests. So that’s what they’ll do. 

~~~

As you ride the train back home, Nanami’s hand entwined with yours, a familiar sensation pools in your stomach. The news that your brother is staying at your parent’s house changes everything. The thought of being alone in your home with Nanami sparks a flame that ignites your entire being. Will you be able to control yourself once you step through that door? Your house is quite small, but even the bedroom seems too far away. You’re tempted to let him have you on the couch, maybe the kitchen counter. Whatever is closer, really. 

Lost in your dirty thoughts, you jolt at the sudden sound of his voice in your ear. “Do you still want to finish what we started?” 

You turn to look at him, grinning. “What do you want to do?” 

There’s a heavy pause before he whispers, “I want to christen that bed of yours. Will you let me?”

You squeeze your thighs together, throbbing between your legs. “I’ll let you do whatever you want with me.” 

His nostrils flare slightly as he stares at you. The primal look in his gaze makes you think he’ll take you here on the train, in front of these other passengers. He turns his head away and takes a few deep breaths, tightening his grip on you. You can tell he’s trying to compose himself. Once the train reaches your stop, he immediately gets up and leads you past the crowds of people, speed walking all the way to your house in record time. 

You fumble through your purse to look for your keys, trembling with anticipation. He stands behind you, pawing at your waist and mouth hot on the back of your neck as you unlock the door. Once you’re inside, he pushes you gently against the wall and kisses you, tongue grazing your lips. He sheds his tan blazer as you both kick off your shoes. “Kento,” you breathe out, as he moves to your neck. Your skin is on fire under his touch. 

He says your name in return, licking a stripe behind your ear. “I love you.”

“I love you,” you repeat, tugging at his spotted tie. He takes it off and wraps it tightly around his fingers, caressing your cheek, the fabric velvety on your skin. His thumb drags your bottom lip as he drifts down to your chest. 

“Your heart is beating so fast. Are you nervous?” He rests his forehead on yours, lids shut as he breathes deeply through his nose.

You giggle. “Not nervous. Just really, really horny.”

He smirks. “Naughty girl. I’ll take care of you.” He slides underneath your dress, rubbing you through your panties. “Always so wet for me. My good girl.” It’s dangerous the way he says it. All logical thinking is erased from your mind and the only thing you desire is to feel him inside you.

“Baby, please,” you whine, clutching his collar in your fists.  

Chuckling, he teases, “No patience for foreplay?” 

“You told me you want to christen my bed, so what are you waiting for?” you challenge him, pouting. 

“We have all night. I want to take my time with you.” As he says it, his fingers slip past the fabric of your underwear, gathering the slick to rub wet circles on your clit. You let out a stifled moan as you grind on him, yearning for more. “But how can I deny you when you’re like this? So desperate and needy for my cock. Makes me so fucking hard.” He pulls out from under your dress to lead you by the wrist into your bedroom.

You lie on the bed, dress pulled up to your stomach, sliding your panties off. Spreading your legs wide, you start playing with your clit as he watches from the end of the bed. “Do you touch yourself like this when I’m not around?” He unbuckles his belt slowly, enjoying the show you’re putting on for him. As he slides out of his pants, one leg at a time, you nod and slip a finger inside your slit. Your cheeks rush with heat, embarrassed at the lewd squelch it makes. 

“Put another one in.” He kneels in front of you now, wearing only his briefs and dress shirt, slightly unbuttoned from the top. 

Obeying his command, you insert your ring finger along with your middle. It’s nowhere near how he does it, but him watching you like this turns you on beyond belief. The hunger in his eyes, the way he bites his lower lip, the way he clutches the tie around his palm. “Play with your clit again. Show me how you like it.” He rubs the bulge in his briefs, focused on your glistening cunt. With wet fingers, you massage your clit, drawing out quiet moans from your mouth. 

“Fuck, you’re incredible. You drive me crazy, you know that?” He shoves his underwear down to reveal his hard cock. No matter how many times you’ve seen him like this, the sight still amazes you. And seeing him erect with his dress shirt on is a kink you didn’t know you had until right now. He unravels the tie from his grip. A small whimper leaves your lips, anticipating his next move.

“Can I bind your wrists? Are you okay with that?” He crawls up the bed to kneel beside you, cupping your cheek tenderly as he asks for permission. 

You kiss his palm, smiling. “Yes. Let me take my clothes off first.” Your skin prickles with excitement as you pull the dress off and unhook your bra. He places your hands above you wrapping his spotted tie around your wrists, one over the other.

His lips curl into a wicked grin, his gaze ravenous as he looks you up and down. “I can’t believe you’re all mine.” He positions himself between your legs, leaning his face towards your arousal.  “Can I taste you?” 

Holy fuck. This is something you’ve fantasized about many times. You were uncomfortable asking him to do it, unsure if he was into it or not. Your ex never really offered; he tried it once, but it was barely memorable. So, you thought maybe it was too intimate of an action to ask your boyfriend of two months to do to you.

But it’s different now. You love each other. There’s no holding back.

In a trembling voice, you respond, “Yes. Please.”

He spreads you open and without hesitation, he starts with soft kisses to your puffy clit. You moan, stomach tight with pleasure as you rut against his face, his kisses getting sloppier and deeper with each passing second. He pushes himself even closer, latching around your sensitive bud, stimulating it with his plush tongue. It’s fucking amazing. You let yourself enjoy it until the rush of ecstasy sweeps through you, pulsing into his hot, slippery mouth. “Kento, I’m coming,” you gasp.

He hums into your skin as he sucks on your clit, unrelenting until you’re slack on the sheets, spent from your orgasm. His tongue licks along your plump folds, lapping up the slick from your high, drinking you up like he’s dehydrated. “You taste so fucking good,” he murmurs, as he fucks you with his mouth. You twitch at his touch, sensitive and yet, still so unbelievably horny for the man that you love.

“Fuck me, Kento. Please. Need you inside me,” you beg.

After one more flick of his tongue, he sits up on his knees. You see a pearl of precum leaking from the tip of his dick. He lets out a huff as he guides his cock to your slit, rubbing up and down your arousal. “You’re such good girl, fuck. I’m so lucky.” He continues to tease you, circling his cockhead around your clit as you squirm beneath him, bound wrists wriggling above your head. “I don’t have any lube, but we don’t need it. You came so much from just my tongue. This pretty pussy is so wet for me.” He strokes his dick as he stares wildly at your dripping cunt. 

You’re already close to your second orgasm when he slides his cock inside you, your walls surrounding his girth. Once his entire length is in, he places one hand on your inner thigh, the other at your side, clutching onto the bedsheets. You can tell you’re in for a ride. 

He starts slowly, pressing down on you gently to keep you open for him. Once you’re comfortably adjusted to his size, he speeds up. His lips tickle your ear as he whispers, “I’ve wanted this for so long. Been wanting to ruin this bed ever since I first slept in it.” 

You try to move your hips to match his rhythm, wrists still pinned above your head. All you can manage to choke out between your moans is, “Me too.” You wrap your free leg around his waist, wanting as much of your skin to be touching his. Being bound, you thought you’d be vulnerable, exposed. But with Nanami, you feel safe. You like being this open for him. He’d never do anything to hurt you. That’s one of the many reasons you love him.  

Overwhelmed with emotion and pleasure, tears well up in your eyes as he continues to make love to you. You face him, kissing him softly on the lips. He keeps still inside you, turning your body with his as he relaxes on the bed. The hand that was holding down your thigh comes up to caress your cheek as you continue to kiss. You stay like this for a while, basking in each other’s warmth. At some point, he reaches up to untie you from your bondage. At your release, you glide down his chest, cherishing his steady heartbeat.

“I love you,” he whispers between kisses. “I love you so much.”

Your voice catches in your throat. “I love you, too.”

He brushes your tears away, nuzzling his nose to yours. “Do you want to stop?”

You smile. “Not at all. These are happy tears. I’m happy.” He pulls you in closer, kissing you passionately, his cock still stiff inside you. Running your fingers through his hair, you say, “I told you earlier that I’ll let you do whatever you want with me. What do you want? Tell me, baby.” 

He thinks for a few seconds, gazing at you, full of love and lust. 

“I want you to ride me.”

~~~

Nanami lies down on the bed, watching the love of his life mount him, knees to both sides of him. They’ve never tried this before. While the sex has been nothing short of amazing these past two months, they’ve been hesitant to try new position, afraid of crossing any lines too soon. But there’s no denying that he’s been wanting this. And tonight is different. They love each other. They don’t have to hold back anymore. 

She leans down, breast in front of his face, so tempting and marvelous. He reaches for her tits, kneading at them, fondling her nipples with his thumbs. “Put them in my mouth,” he demands. She lets out a small whine as he raises his neck up to take her into his mouth, latching onto her nipple, sucking gently. 

“God, I love these tits,” he growls as he moves to the other one. He squeezes her breasts as he engulfs her sensitive teats. “All mine.”

“Fuck. Feels so good when you suck them like this.” When he starts sucking harder, she slowly pulls out, his lips making a popping sound at the release. She grinds her pussy on his lap, moaning. “I like it like this.” 

“Fuck,” he mutters, sticking out his tongue to receive her once more. “Feed it to me. Show me again how you like it.” He takes her again, his hands now on her waist, as she holds her breast for him. He sucks hard as she pulls out with another loud pop, nipple taut and plump when he releases her, shiny with his spit. His dick twitches beneath her; the need to be inside her is undeniable, unbearable if he waits any longer. 

“Ride me,” he spits out, planting his feet on the bed.

She pushes her ass back, feeling for his cock, rubbing her folds over the tip until it’s at her entrance, sinking onto him easily. Once he bottoms out, she starts thrusting back and forth. She leans over him, gripping the sheets on either side of his head, tits bouncing with every shake of her ass. He grabs her hips, reveling how expertly she rides him. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful. You’re incredible like this, fucking yourself on my cock.”

“Kento. So good, oh my god,” she cries out, picking up the pace. 

He tightens his hold on her hips and starts moving with her, timing his thrusts with hers. She buries her face into his neck, whimpering as she takes it. “Can you come one more time for me, baby?” he purrs. “Let me do it. Let daddy take care of you.” 

As if those are the magic words, she lets out a luscious moan, trembling around him. “Fuck, daddy. Fuck me. Make me come.”

He squeezes her ass as he dives into her, deeper than he’s ever been before, her incoherent babbling a sign that he’s hitting her sweet spot. His body buzzes with delight and pleasure, knowing he’s making her unravel on his cock. He continues to pump into her relentlessly, his muscles spasming with each deep thrust he gives her. She continues to bounce her ass on his cock in perfect sync with him until she tightens around him. She’s close, and so is he. He slips his hand between them, thumb grazing her swollen clit. 

“Kento, I’m coming!” she whines into his neck. “Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

He’s dizzy with ecstasy as she clenches around him, fucking her until he comes too, filling her up with his load, the excess leaking out of her fluttering hole and onto his lap. He only just remembers that he’s still in his dress shirt; he never bothered taking it off. Looking between them to inspect the damage, he finds a few spots where their cum bleeds into the hem of his shirt. 

She relaxes on top of him, breath shallow against his chest. He massages her back, cradling her in his arms. They stay like this for a moment, both exhausted from their intense love making. She rolls off him to lay at his side, eyes closed, smiling. “I love you, Kento.”

He leans in to kiss her forehead. “I love you, too.”

He’ll never get tired of hearing it. He’ll never get tired of saying it.

They love each other. All is right with the world.  

Tag List: @chiyoso @bloombb @liliorsstuff-blog

[papiliotao]

꒰ 𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆 ✩࿐

pairings: kazuha, wanderer, and xiao x gn!reader (separate)

content: fluff, mutual pining, cuddling in kazu and scara's, a bit of a confession in kazuha’s, tranquil beach scenery with kazu, scara is in his wanderer era, you travel with the wanderer, watching fireworks with xiao

summary: under the cover of an enchanting night, romance blossoms.

a/n: i love mutual pining. also, the idea of xiao and scara being soft towards only the reader makes me melt. anyway, i hope you enjoy reading!

Tonight, waves lap at the shore, ebbing and flowing in a steady rhythm, creating a repetitive beat — a baseline for nature’s songs. The sea reflects the darkening skies above, displays of vivid blue and violet lined with subtle shades of rose gold. Sand shifts as you walk barefoot along the shoreline with your closest friend, each grain absorbing the remnants of daytime warmth.

“KAZUHA, hurry up!” you yell, rushing ahead despite the resistance of the miniature dunes beneath you. Playful giggles fill the air as you run and Kazuha chases after you, trying his best to ensure that you remain within his sight.

“Ah, wait!” he calls back, following after you.

Although your legs carry you far, you eventually begin to pant, and your body feels far too heavy to continue on. In a single motion, you dramatically fall to the ground, thankful for the sand below acting as padding. You crash, but fortunately, you’re not injured.

Seconds later, Kazuha catches up. He stands above you, gazing down at your breathless face and smiling softly. Embers of adoration ignite in crimson eyes reminiscent of autumn leaves, burning brightly as he offers a hand to you.

“Are you alright?” he asks, grabbing one of your hands firmly. In one swift motion, he pulls you to your feet, and you nod.

“I’m fine,” you manage to say between gasps for air. You’re still tired, and you suppose you should have conserved some energy instead of attempting to run at the speed of light. However, you know you’ll recover eventually.

Kazuha stares at you for a second, irises mirroring shades of sunset flickering over your each and every feature before he shakes his head.

“You look like you need a rest,” he tells you.

He sits down on the sand and pats the spot next to him, gesturing for you to take a seat next to him. You do as he instructs, and soon enough, you find yourself on the ground beside Kazuha, your shoulders nearly touching.

You glance over at him, admiring the way his snow white hair, highlighted by the dying crepuscule, billows in the sea breeze. Autumnal pools of molten rubies fill with small flecks of gold as he keeps his gaze fixated upon the tranquil sea before you. But nothing rivals the smile that comes to adorn his features — full of wonder, an encapsulation of the sun’s brilliance and the moon’s serenity.

Ethereal. That’s the word that comes to mind while you stare at the beautiful boy next to you, and yet, you fear it’s still not enough to describe him.

He’s perfect. His allure rivals that of the panoramic scenery before you.

You wish you could stay in the moment forever — or at the very least, permanently etch every last detail of today into your memory.

Soon enough, the last threads of warmth are pulled from the earth with the disappearance of the sun, and a chill begins to radiate as the cold light of the moon overtakes the sky. Every hint of marigold, coral, and canary completely vanishes. In their place, a deeper midnight blue ebbs into the heavens. As the wind passes by, you feel a slight shiver run down your spine.

And your discomfort doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you cold, my dearest?” Kazuha asks you.

The term of endearment causes a warmth to rise to your cheeks. Although affectionate words aren’t rare with Kazuha, your friend is making it sound as though the two of you are a couple.

However, your embarrassment fades as another gust of glacial fervor drifts by to steal the heat from your face, you force yourself to nod. You know that even if you lie, Kazuha will be able to see right through you. You’ve been friends for a while now, and given Kazuha’s attunement to nature, it’s nearly impossible to deceive him.

The wandering samurai wraps an arm around you, igniting a warmth akin to the caress of golden sunrays. His embrace is so warm… so comforting…

You feel your eyelids becoming heavy, and your head involuntarily falls to Kazuha’s shoulder. Slumber begins to overtake you. Tendrils of tantalization pull you deeper into a realm of oneiric euphoria, blurring out the waking world in the process.

But through it all, thoughts of the boy beside you, the one who embodies transient autumns in both looks in personality, never leave your mind.

Just as you feel yourself falling into a plane of enchanting fantasies, you hear six soft words spoken in tandem, whispered by a voice more delicate than the marine zephyrs surrounding you.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Wow, you’re really bad at this,” the WANDERER huffs. “At this rate, we’ll freeze to death.”

You can feel the Wanderer’s indigo gaze, a flawless mimic of the night sky, piercing into the depths of your soul, scrutinizing your every move. At the moment, the only illumination is provided by phantasmagoric stars dotting a canvas of murky navy and violet, but it seems to be enough for him to make out your silhouette against the surrounding shadows.

You sigh, tangible frustration permeating the otherwise serene evening air as you exhale.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I guess I’m just tired or something.”

For a few seconds, a defeaning silence fills the atmosphere, transforming the ambience into one of awkwardness.

And then you feel the Wanderer sit down beside you.

“Whatever,” he mutters. “You’re clearly exhausted and in no state to be starting a fire.” For some reason, his tone of voice is far less pointed than usual, changing from an embodiment of everwinter storms to something more akin to a honeyed warmth — a tranquil portrait of summer’s joys.

You open your mouth to apologize again, but before you can speak, you hear grass rustling as the Wanderer stands up. Your gaze follows his barely-visible figure as he walks a short distance from where you’re sitting back to the small tent you set up earlier. He rummages around for a second before returning and draping a blanket around your shoulders.

“Don’t bother thanking me,” he says, sitting back down next to you.

Your traveling companion looks up at the star-speckled sky, and you swear you can see galaxies full of vibrant magenta and ocean blue reflected in his irises.

“Aren’t you cold too?” you ask, breaking the fragile, short-lived silence into fragments with words that echo in the midnight air, seemingly amplified in the midst of a peaceful moment.

The Wanderer simply shakes his head in response.

“There’s no need to worry about me,” he says.

And yet you still can’t help but feel guilty. You’re nice and cozy underneath the protection of a velvety blanket, safe from the frigid fingers of encroaching night. Meanwhile, the Wanderer is left to fend for himself.

What if you just share the blanket?

The idea is certainly tempting, but you’re a little too scared to follow through with it. Throughout your time with the Wanderer, you’ve gotten the feeling that he’s rather unfond of touch. After all, with his snarky attitude and unfriendly demeanor, he’s the antithesis of a cuddly person.

However, as you shift to sit in a more comfortable position, your fingers accidentally brush against his, causing you to flinch.

He’s cold. Incredibly cold.

And yet not a shiver runs down his spine.

Is he pretending to be alright for your sake?

The mere thought is enough to send another wave of warmth through your body, and suddenly, you feel less alone in the midst of enigmatic darkness. You realize that although he doesn’t outright show it, the Wanderer cares about you. Your heart flutters with the delicacy of a butterfly’s iridescent wings.

“You’re looking out for me,” you whisper under your breath. A small smile dances across your lips, and you decide to take a risk, jumping off a ledge of certainty and into an abyss filled with unknown feelings and fragile bonds.

With one swift movement, you take the end of the blanket closer to the Wanderer and wrap it around his shoulders. Now you’re sharing, and you can feel him pressing up against you. You swear you can feel the tempo of your heartbeat intensifying, each thump resounding in rapid succession.

To your surprise, the Wanderer doesn’t try to push you away. Instead, he scoots towards you.

“You don’t mind this?” you ask him, anticipating his response with bated breath.

For a second, silence fills the night, sending your mind into a polarizing frenzy and your heart into a panic. However, when the Wanderer speaks, you feel the tension leave your body.

“I don’t…” he starts, pausing briefly to consider his next words. Perhaps the surrounding darkness gives him courage, or perhaps he simply can’t suppress his feelings anymore because his next words are entirely unexpected, “but only because it’s you.”

Petals of red and gold bloom into voids of darkness, illuminating endless night in a display of phosphorescent flowers. But the sky isn’t the only thing that undergoes a stunning metamorphosis due to the luminous grace of the fireworks painting the shadows. In the edges of your vision, borders frayed from staring at the breathtaking sight before you for far too long, you catch an spark blaze alight within the honeyed amber of XIAO’s eyes. A subtle smile graces his features.

It’s barely noticeable, but it’s there.

You turn your attention to the beautiful boy beside you, absolutely captivated by the grin adorning his face. Displays of happiness from Xiao are rare, occurrences rivaling the convergence of sun and moon — a total eclipse. Your heart beats erratically, creating an exhilarating backing for a nocturne composed of the crackling of fireworks.

“You’re smiling,” you whisper.

Xiao grunts dismissively.

“Nonsense,” he says, wiping all traces of childish wonder and carefree bliss from his face. “The foolish antics of humans mean nothing to the Adepti.”

You feel the corners of your lips turn down. It’s almost like Xiao’s mood is infectious at the moment. When he’s smiling, you’re smiling, and when the euphoria fades from his expression, a certain lightness seems to vanish from the atmosphere.

“Oh, I see.” Your voice comes out meek, dulled by the immense disappointment filling your heart.

You want nothing more than to see Xiao happy. Throughout your time together, you’ve grown to care about him — admittedly a little bit more than platonically — and yet despite your concerns, you feel like Xiao doesn’t share the same sentiments. Xiao doesn’t quite care about his joy as much as you do. He’s far more content with protecting you, and although his actions never fail to cause giddiness to overwhelm you, you can’t help but want to see him smile for once.

Perhaps he’s scared of shattering the cold and distant image he’s crafted, despite the fact that you already know it’s all a fragile illusion formed from jagged shards of the most delicate crystal. Deep down, you know Xiao is caring and warm, akin to a flawless summer day, complete with golden rays of sunlight beaming down at you and a honeyed caress.

It seems that Xiao has noticed the negativity radiating off of you because as you avert your gaze, staring at the wooden floor of Wangshu Inn’s balcony, you hear Xiao’s voice once again.

“Wait,” he interjects, cutting through the thick silence with a singular pointed word, sharper than a dagger constructed from the toughest of diamonds. “I… should explain myself,” he mumbles.

Although you look up once more to make eye contact with Xiao, you’re unsuccessful. Now he’s the one avoiding your stare, and he looks nothing short of endearingly shy. Gilded lamplight illuminates his features, making the sunset blush dawning on his cheeks all the more apparent to you.

“I wasn’t…” Xiao manages before pausing once more. “I wasn’t only smiling because of the fireworks,” he forces himself to say.

His words pique your interest. Although the rest of the night is exceptionally beautiful, the various acrylic hues burgeoning across a canvas painted a dark obsidian shade are the most noteworthy sights of the evening. When you try to think of anything that even closely parallels their beauty, nothing comes to mind.

“I felt at peace,” he says, his voice softening, “because you were beside me.”

You inhale sharply. The air feels far too electrifying at the moment, shocking you with an unexpected elation. You didn’t expect Xiao to be so forward, and yet, here he is, more or less telling you how much you mean to him. Many words remain unspoken, but you already know Xiao well enough to understand the weight of that one sentence.

As you glance over to the adeptus once more, a grin dances across your face. Aureate galaxies meet your gaze, sparkling with the subtlest hints of adoration.

The blush across Xiao’s cheeks only intensifies as the corners of his lips turn up once again in a shy smile.

It’s luminous. His expression, a true embodiment of equanimity and contentment, turns even the most breathtaking of fireworks more vibrant and the brightest of stars more radiant.

It’s at that moment that an epiphany strikes.

Contrary to what you had believed just moments prior, there’s one thing that rivals the stunning nature of the rainbow-infused pyrotechnics before you: the soft grin adorning Xiao’s features, accentuating each part of his face with a light brighter than that of an imploding supernova.

thank you for reading! i have a few more drafts that are close to finished, so i might post again soon (no promises though because i tend to procrastinate on my writing).

[moonacrefarm]

anticipating love

summary: old habits die hard, and some you never quit.

contains: childhood friends to lovers to strangers, second-chance romance, angst, hurt/comfort, slight miscommunication, fluff, 18+ series, mentions of stalking, mentions of cancer, no mention of y/n

authors note: i didn't forget about this story! i've had a few life changes that i've had a hard keeping up with (but low-key...i have a bachelors degree now). chapter 5 is already in the works and it was so nice to sit down and write this chap after having taken a lonnnggg break. i also have been craving ike's. enjoy!

series masterlist

previous part | next part.

04. turning and returning

Bradley came in waves. The kind that settles deep into the sand before returning to the ocean and gently coaxing you with it. 

Your mother lit up each time he visited, the glow would redden her cheeks and the newfound strength would suffocate Bradley with each hug. A part of you wondered if she missed Bradley or if she missed Bradley and the connection to Carole he provided. You were sure she missed him as he was, whatever that was, but sometimes she’d gaze at Bradley with so much love it was as if she was pouring the love she had for Carole into him. Even if it overflowed, the love needed somewhere, anywhere, to go. 

It wasn’t uncomfortable when he came to visit, it wasn’t even awkward. Without trying you two slipped into the roles you had been in your entire lives. The ease that came with it unsettled you slightly, putting you on guard every time you greeted him but the social interaction was a welcome for your mother. The first time she had gone through chemo she isolated herself, avoiding all calls and messages and even you. This time she embraced everyone she could and your chest would tighten each time. Every greeting always felt like a goodbye.

Besides Bradley, Penny would visit most mornings, picking your mother up and taking her to the bar and shops around La Jolla. When evening would fall, Bradley would drop by. By the end of the day, she was always worn out but her smile got warmer each day. 

“I had been craving this all day! A good sandwich from Ike’s will always ease the soul.” Bradley nodded in agreement, taking another chunk out of his sandwich. 

“I haven’t had one of these things since the last time I was in San Diego.” His eyes were practically rolling with each bite. 

“That was like ten years ago Brad. Do they really not have Ike’s anywhere else..?” You took a small jab at him, grinning as he glared at you. Taking a bite out of your own Menage A Trois. 

“If I remember correctly, the last time I came back to SD, someone took my sandwich and ate it whole. Then ate the leftovers I had tucked away…” 

You scrunched your nose in response.

Only a few seconds passed before you realized what he was talking about. That was nearly ten years ago, you were 26, Bradley 27 (only by a few months) and it was the last time you saw him. 

He seemed to catch himself as well, clearing his throat as you got up. 

“Anyone need any drinks?” You called from the kitchen, trying to push away the memories of what happened 9 years ago. It wasn’t a hill you wanted to climb yet. 

“Do we still have Diet Coke?” Your mother called. She tapped her empty can on the table once, “I’m all out already!” She said exasperated, her dramatic flare causing you to snort.

The night carried on as usual, you avoiding glances with Bradley and your mother’s favorite movies. No one talked about work as soon as they stepped through the door. Bradley never mentioned what he was in San Diego for, and your father didn’t bring it up either. What it was kept your father on base most of this week and Bradley would drive back for early morning training. 

Tonight was no different. Your mother drifted to sleep on your shoulder, Bradley’s head thrown back asleep on the recliner and you just watched. He had built up eyebags, his skin a bit more lifeless. He slept soundly, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths and his body relaxed. Whatever this detachment was for, it kept him wound tight. So much so that when your mother roused awake, she glanced over and sighed. 

“Let the boy sleep. He’s up as early as your father.” She said in a hush. “I’m going up to bed, but please grab Bradley a blanket.” Pushing herself off the couch, she wandered into the hallway with a yawn. 

There you two sat. You, debating whether to turn the AC and let him freeze. Though it probably wouldn’t work, Bradley ran hot. Or, instead, grab him a blanket and let him overheat. 

You chose the latter. 

By the time you got back, blanket in hand, Bradley was awake. Rubbing his face and squinting at the time on his phone. 

“I should probably get back to base.” He got himself up from the chair with a stumble and you watched his every move.“We have an early morning tomorrow, more flyi—”

“Have you been sleeping at all?” You cut him off. He stares at you. Contemplating. 

“You haven’t? Have you?”

Old habits died hard and Bradley was one habit you never properly broke. By the way, he stood, the way his limbs hung, the way his eyes were sunken in. You knew he hadn’t been. Bradley had suffered from nightmares when Carole died, and from missions you never wanted to ask about. It had been so long since you last seen him, there’s no telling what he’s seen since then. 

“No.” He sighed, sitting back down for a second and putting his face in his hands. “Is it that obvious?” He said with a small scoff and a smile. 

“To me.” 

You both paused. 

“To you?” 

You nodded. “Yes. To me.” 

Another beat passed between you two. 

One deep breath. Two. A few more exhales. 

“Stay the night. My mother even asked me to get you a blanket.” A gentle smile broke on his face. “I don’t think my boss would appreciate that.”  

“Oh please, my dad won’t say a word against it if it’s my mom’s request.” You walked towards him, blanket out in front of you.

“Get some rest. I promise I’ll wake you up before you have to be on base.” You gave him your own small smile, most of the time when you spoke to Bradley, no emotions coated your face. “Plus we aren’t more than a 25 minutes commute.” He contemplated more.

“I’ll throw in a pillow to sweeten the deal.” You both laughed, nothing too loud to wake your mother but enough to warm each other up. He eyed you one more time before sighing and giving in. “I never could say no to you.”

“Oh? Even now?” You egged him on.

“Yes. Even now.” The way he looked at you made your ears heat up. That same feeling from all those years together building up. It didn’t make you sick anymore. 

At the same moment, you felt small. The insecurities you tried hard to work through popping through you like pin-needles. So many questions remained unanswered questions and for all River had done to your and Bradley’s relationship, what you never wanted to face was the fact he didn’t stay. For everything you had gone through to reach each other and at the last moment he left, even with all the confusion. It bubbled up inside you and it was showing on your face. 

“I didn’t…I didn’t mean to—”

“You left.” 

Your voice was so quiet and you refused to look at him. You sat adjacent to him on the couch. Putting your head in your hands to hide your emotions. Not that worked, Bradley could read you better than you could read yourself sometimes, atleast, he used to be able to. 

He sat there stunned into silence. 

“You left. I know. I know why you left. But Bradley all those years of being angry with you, all the hurt of feeling like I was just an itch you had to scratch. All those years of feeling like maybe I scared you off or just you realizing you didn't want me. All those years of holding onto that anger and hurt doesn’t go away easily and I can pretend things are normal right now but if my mom hadn’t been dying? We wouldn't be here. We’d still be strangers and neither of us would even be able to be in the same room for more than 10 minutes. All those years of isolation, and all I can think about is what would happen if you hadn’t left. If you had stayed a few more minutes. If the timing wasn’t wrong if you hadn’t gotten that message, if—”

Bradley kneeled in front of you. Placing his hands on your knees and rubbing his thumbs. “Hey hey hey, I need you to breathe Bugs,” He pressed his thumbs into your bottom thigh a bit, trying to get you to focus on him.

His hands moved up to your wrist, gently tugging them down, massaging the inside of your wrists with light pressure.“Breathe.” You focused on his touch, the hand still massaging your wrist, the other hand working its way through your hair to the back of your neck, pulling you towards his forehead. The warmth of his hands, the memory of his warmth clashing altogether. 

He took deep breaths and you mimicked him, listening to his breathing and feeling the heat from your neck travel down your spine. 

Once you had regulated, you opened your eyes and there he was. Bradley was always tall. He used to be lanky but years in the military had bulked him up. Even kneeling he was only a couple inches shorter than you. He looked at you with turmoil of his own. He pulled back a bit to search you over once more and you didn’t appreciate that, chasing his forehead with yours. 

He chuckled a little bit, “I’m not going anywhere. Let me look at you. Please.” You put your head on the side of his, attempting to hide in his shoulder. “Please Bugs. Let me see you.” 

Slowly, you pulled yourself away. The flush of your cheeks giving away your emotional state and the grip on his wrist not failing to loosen up. Bradley was right here. He was right in front of you, eye to eye, and to let him go made you anxious. The feelings you had hidden were starting to pour out and you didn’t want him here for the fallout, but you couldn’t bear to let him go, right now he was anchoring you.

He placed his free hand on your cheek and caressed, touching you as if committing you to memory. You leaned into him. 

“When I left,” Your grip on him tightened. “When I left that morning. It was the worst thing I had ever done. For myself, for you. I was terrified of losing you and I lost you anyway. I should’ve stayed and asked questions. I shouldn’t have believed River.” He hesitated for a second. “When I got that message that morning, that phone call. It was as if all the fears I had that I wasn’t good enough for you, not enough for you, not deserving of you, were confirmed and I didn’tknow how to face you without it blowing up.” 

He rose up and sat beside you on the couch. “You were never an ‘itch I had to scratch’, you were never something I second guessed. I was terrified that I’d lose you like I lost my mother. I had to cool off for a couple days, but when I tried to call you, you never answered. All my calls went to voicemail and then it all felt final to me. If that was my only chance to be with you, then I knew I had ruined it and I just…I didn’t know how to face you. How can I see you and stop the feelings I have? How to put you first and do what’s best for you.”

Just like Bradley, the anger and hurt came in waves as he tried to comfort you. You didn’t think either of you were wholly in the wrong. River played his own part and he succeeded in whatever he wanted to do because here you are, years later and you and Bradley were still paying the price. 

You sniffled as he pulled you into him, accepting his embrace and burrowing yourself in his chest. He sighed and relaxed, like a weight was off his chest and you sank with him.

“You were what was best for me.” You murmured.

He gripped a little harder, hugging you into him tighter and you molded. He thought for a second, “You’ll always be it for me.” 

“Bradley…” and he shushed you. “I know sweets. I know.”

You both lay there, soaking in each other's presence and the silence around you. “I’m not leaving you again. This time… I’ll come to you.”

[shitsndgiggs]

hey Kaya, can you do a story with Arda Güler x fc barcelona stargirl. where they fall in love with each other. fluff

STARGIRL - ARDA GÜLER

Barca’s stargirl has a new love interest

Arda Güler x stargirl! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The atmosphere at the El Clásico was electric. The roar of the fans, the anticipation of the match, and the energy pulsing through the stadium created an unforgettable experience.

I had always loved the thrill of these games, the rivalry between Barcelona and Real Madrid bringing out the best in both teams.

But tonight felt different. As I settled into my seat, I could feel a sense of excitement bubbling within me, though I couldn't quite place why.

The commentators were already in full swing, hyping up the match, and the cameras were scanning the stands.

I was just another fan here to support Barcelona, my heart fully invested in my team. But, I noticed the cameras keep lingering on me.

"And look who we have here tonight!" one of the commentators announced, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "That’s Y/N, the rising star of women's football and Barcelona’s very own stargirl!"

The crowd around me erupted in cheers, and I couldn't help but smile and wave, feeling a bit bashful but also incredibly proud.

It was surreal to be recognized in such a way, but the love from the fans was heartwarming.

The other commentator chimed in, “She’s been making waves lately, not just in Spain but across Europe. It’s great to see her here, showing support for her fellow Blaugranas. The fans are loving it—listen to those cheers!"

The camera zoomed in on my as I smiled and waved to the crowd. The commentators continued, their admiration clear.

"She’s got the whole package: talent, dedication, and now, even more, recognition from the fans. You can tell they adore her, and it’s well-deserved."

______

As the cheers erupted in the stadium, Arda glanced up at the giant screens to see what had captured the crowd's attention.

His eyes widened slightly as the camera zoomed in on a girl in the stands, her smile lighting up the screen.

The commentators' words faded into the background as Arda found himself momentarily mesmerized by her.

There she was, Barcelona's stargirl, effortlessly drawing the attention of everyone around her.

But it wasn't just the fans who were captivated—Arda felt something stir inside him, an inexplicable connection that made him want to keep looking.

______

The crowd’s roar hit a new peak as the referee blew the whistle, signaling the start of the match. I leaned forward in my seat, my heart pounding with excitement.

As the players took their positions, my eyes naturally scanned the pitch, soaking in the energy of the moment. That’s when I first noticed him—Arda Güler.

His presence was almost magnetic, drawing my gaze to him even though he was just one player among many on the field.

There was something about the way he moved, with such fluidity and focus, that made it hard to look away.

The game kicked off, but I found myself distracted. My attention kept drifting back to Arda. He was fast, skillful, and completely in sync with the rhythm of the game.

But it wasn’t just his talent that caught my eye; it was the intensity in his expression, the determination that seemed to radiate from him.

He played like every moment mattered, like he was carrying the weight of the match on his shoulders.

I tried to focus on the game, to cheer for my team, but Arda had already planted himself in my thoughts.

It was strange, how quickly he had captured my interest. Every time he got the ball, my pulse would quicken, and I’d find myself holding my breath, waiting to see what he would do next.

The match ended with the usual intensity, both teams fighting hard until the final whistle. Barcelona won, and the stadium was in an uproar.

I cheered along with the fans, but part of my mind was still back in that moment when Arda and I had locked eyes.

As I made my way out of the stadium, still buzzing from the win, my phone buzzed with a message. I glanced down and saw an unfamiliar number.

"Hey, it's Arda Güler. I hope you don’t mind, but I asked someone for your number. I saw you at the game tonight… I’d love to meet you properly."

I stared at the message in disbelief. How had he gotten my number? But more importantly, why was my heart racing at the thought of seeing him again?

Without overthinking it, I quickly typed a reply.

"Hi, Arda. I don't mind at all. It was amazing seeing you play tonight. Where should we meet?"

He responded almost immediately.

"There's a quiet café not far from the stadium. Meet me there in half an hour?"

Half an hour later, I found myself standing outside a small, cozy café. The lights inside were warm and inviting, and through the window, I saw Arda sitting at a corner table, his attention focused on the door.

As soon as I walked in, his eyes lit up, and he stood to greet me. He was even more handsome up close, his boyish features softened by a warm smile.

"Hi," he said, a little shyly, as he held out a chair for me. "I wasn’t sure you’d actually come."

"Of course I came," I replied, smiling as I took a seat. "You played really good tonight, after all. Kinda like a mini Ronaldo.“

He chuckled, and the sound made my heart flutter. "Yeah, but you were definitely the highlight of the game for me."

I felt my cheeks heat up at his words. "I could say the same about you."

The conversation flowed effortlessly, and the more we talked, the more I realized how much I liked him.

"I’ve always admired Barcelona," he admitted at one point, "but tonight, you’ve given me a whole new reason to respect the club."

I laughed, a little embarrassed. "Well, I could say the same about Madrid, but I’d never admit that publicly."

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Our secret, then."

As the night came to an end, Arda walked me back to my hotel. We stood outside the entrance, neither of us wanting to say goodbye.

"This doesn’t have to be the end," he said, almost as if reading my thoughts.

"It doesn’t," I agreed, smiling up at him.

We exchanged another look, one filled with unspoken promises. He leaned down then, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my cheek.

"Goodnight," he whispered.

"Goodnight, Arda."

As I watched him walk away, my heart felt light, filled with a hope that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something incredible.

[starlost-andfound]

claire de lune | bang chan

bang chan x friend gn!reader

summary: on a particularly rough night, y/n and chan find comfort in each other's company under the moonlight

word count: 1.1k

warning: discussions of grief, losing loved ones, mentions of death, angst and a bit of bittersweet but comforting (?) fluff

authors note: i don't actually think anyone will read this but i'm missing some ppl a little more than usual tonight. i thought i'd write this as a comfort for myself and for others who feel the same too

additional note: also, after years of using tumblr, i just figured out how to do this three pictures in a row thing and i am absolutely ecstatic about it

_ _ _

The knock on his studio door snapped Chan out of his trance.

He blinked his eyes a few times, his vision slowly coming back to focus, staring at the black computer screen in front of him. How long had he been zoned out? His head drifting to other places, clinging to lingering thoughts? 

He glanced at the clock. 1:45 AM. Had it really been that long?

The knock sounded and Chan cleared his throat, “Come in.”

The door opened slightly and y/n peaked through the small gap. 

“Oh, hey you,” Chan smiled tiredly. “It’s been a while.”

Y/n smiled. “Mind if I step in?”

“You know you’re always welcome,” Chan gestured to the couch behind him. The bags under y/n’s eyes didn’t go unnoticed by him. He couldn’t deny that he held his own too. Chan had been in the studio for so long he could barely remember what time he had entered and how much time had passed.

Y/n closed the door behind them, leaning against it. 

“Why are you up so late?” Chan asked.

“I could ask you the same.”

Chan chuckled. He glanced at the time again and sighed. He looked back at y/n, “Wanna go out on a walk?”

“Yeah, I could use some fresh air.”

_ _ _

Chan and y/n didn’t really have a destination in mind. They walked quietly side by side, matching each other’s pace. Occasionally, a soft sigh would break the silence or one of the two would point out the nice weather or a stray cat on the opposite side of the street. Both carried some kind of weight, a wearing shadow looming behind them.

Eventually the two found a park and made their way to a bench. Y/n let out a sigh as they sat. Chan followed, sitting a slight distance away from them. Neither made the first move to speak, both of their hearts aching to let go of the heavy anchor in their chest, but neither were courageous enough to say the words they needed to.

Chan looked up and sighed.

“Oh,” he whispered. “It’s a half moon tonight.”

Y/n followed his gaze up to the sky. They hummed in agreement. “Yeah, it’s beautiful.”

“You never did tell me why you were up,” Chan added.

A small pause. “Too much on my mind,” y/n mumbled.

“What were you thinking about?”

“It’s not so much of what I was thinking about,” y/n replied. “- but more of who i was thinking about,” they whispered. 

Y/n inhaled deeply and cleared their throat. “Why were you up?”

Chan chuckled, but his laughter held some heaviness. “I guess the same as you.”

After a longer silence, Chan spoke again. “Were they a friend, family... or a lover?”

“Family,” y/n spoke quietly, afraid if they spoke any louder their feelings would burst. “You?”

“Friend,” Chan sighed..

He laughed lightly. “It doesn’t get easier, does it?”

“Nope,” y/n chuckled, fiddling with the hem of their t-shirt. “I feel like every time it hits me I drown again.”

“They say it comes in waves.”

“Yeah,” y/n bit their lip as their eyes started to water, a lump building in their throat.

“Sometimes it’s unforgiving like a high tide and it completely floods and it drowns you,” Chan continued with a deep breath. “But sometimes it’s gentle and kind like the low tide on a shore on a quiet morning.”

A tear slipped passed y/n’s eye and they quickly brushed it away.

“I hate it, I really do.” their lip trembled. They inhaled shakily. “I just wish it would go away.”

“I know,” Chan said. “Me too.”

He couldn’t tell when the first tear had fallen, quickly wiping away the tears smudged on his cheeks. 

“I just don’t know how to deal with all of this pain that I have left, all of this love I have left for them. I don’t know where to put it. I don’t know how anyone lives with it. How the world just keeps spinning but I’m still stuck here.”

“I guess we just have to learn to live with it,” Chan whispered. “Slowly, step by step. We put the love we have left for them into the way we live.”

He paused, and breathed shakily. “Maybe by smiling a little more for them, or doing that crazy thing we’re scared of, just living more for them - because they would’ve wanted that for us.” His voice wavered, “They would’ve wanted us to be happy.”

Y/n sniffled. “You have a really good way with words.”

“Funny.” Chan laughed through his tears. “People say that a lot.”

“Sometimes, I feel really lost without them. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I’m doing with myself, with my life.” y/n spoke. “They used to be a call away and now, I don’t know what to do when I need them the most.”

“It’s hard, learning to live and grow.” Chan said. “As you get older, you grow apart or you have to learn how to keep growing on your own.” 

He sniffled. “But they’re always looking out for us, even when they’re gone. You just need to look for the signs.”

“Do you think they can see us from up there?”, y/n asked, looking back up at the sky.

“I think they do. They always watch over us, in the stars.” Chan pointed up in the far distance, to a small cluster of stars surrounding the moon. 

The two sat in silence again, both looking up at the stars, the moonlight washing over them with a soft glow, wrapping them in a gentle embrace.

“For what it’s worth, I think they would be really proud of who you are today.” Chan looked at y/n.

Y/n’s eyes welled with tears again. “You really think so?”

“I’m sure of it.”

“Thank you,” y/n said quietly. They glanced at Chan. “For what it’s worth, I know that they’re really proud of you too Chan.”

Chan remained silent for a moment, composing himself before he replied. “Thank you, y/n.”

They sat together quietly for a few more minutes, each allowing the other to feel their own heaviness in their chest, in their own time. 

After some time passed, the only sound heard was the distant chirp of crickets and their quiet breathing.

“Do you want to head back?”, y/n asked.

Chan looked back up at the moon and exhaled shakily. “I think I’d like to stay here for a bit longer, look at the stars a little more.”

“I think I’ll stay a little bit longer too.”

Up above them, in the light of the moon in the dark sky, a pair of stars shined a little brighter.