#something familiar just to fill the space with sounds I know

[urdreamydoodles]

Remy LeBeau (Gambit) x Fem!Reader (Smut)

Remy checking you out (Smut)

You and Remy LeBeau enjoy a flirtatious night in New Orleans, filled with playful banter and undeniable chemistry. As the night progresses, the tension between you both reaches its peak, leading to an intimate and passionate encounter.

Warning: public sex, oral sex fem!receiving & fingering

The early evening sun bathed New Orleans in a soft, golden light, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets as the city began to transition into night. You could hear the distant sounds of jazz filtering through the air, the lively hum of conversation, and the occasional burst of laughter from nearby cafés and bars. It was the perfect night for what you had planned—meeting Remy LeBeau for a date.

Remy was late, of course. But you were used to that by now. He never seemed to be in much of a rush, always moving with that signature lazy confidence that made him impossible to stay mad at. And even now, as you waited, you found yourself smiling, the anticipation of seeing him again fluttering in your stomach.

Tonight was special. You had picked out an outfit that you knew would catch his attention, something that hugged your curves in all the right places and emphasized your natural beauty. You knew Remy would appreciate it—he always did. But tonight, you wanted to leave him speechless. You had spent more time than usual on your hair, your makeup, and everything else, wanting to see the look in his eyes when he saw you.

As you waited on the corner of a quiet street, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your purse, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. Instinctively, you turned, and there he was—Remy LeBeau, the infamous Gambit, strolling toward you with that same lazy grin that could melt hearts from across a room. His long coat billowed slightly in the evening breeze, and his hair, tousled and wild as always, fell into his face, giving him an effortlessly roguish look.

“Chère,” he drawled as he got closer, his voice dripping with that familiar Cajun accent, “ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

You felt a surge of warmth rush through you at his words, but it wasn’t just what he said—it was how he was looking at you.

Remy’s red-on-black eyes raked over your entire outfit the moment he laid eyes on you, starting from your heels and moving slowly, deliberately upward. You could feel the heat of his gaze as if it were a physical touch, his eyes taking in every detail of your outfit with unspoken admiration. He didn’t try to hide it, either. Remy had never been shy about letting you know exactly what he thought, and tonight was no exception.

His gaze lingered on your legs for just a moment longer than necessary before moving up to your hips, his eyes narrowing slightly as if appreciating the way the fabric of your outfit clung to you in all the right places. You felt a blush creep up your neck, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you watched him watching you, the tension between you building with every second that passed.

When his eyes finally met yours again, there was a spark of something darker, something more intense, behind his usual playful smirk. “Mon Dieu,” he murmured, stepping closer, his voice a little rougher now, “if I’da known you’d be lookin’ dis good, I’da shown up early.”

You laughed softly, though your heart was pounding in your chest. “Late as usual,” you teased, your voice light but filled with affection. “I was starting to think you forgot.”

He smirked, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped even closer, the scent of him—cigarettes and something darker, like leather and spice—filling the space between you. “Forget a face like yours? Non, ma belle. I been thinkin’ ‘bout nothin’ else all day.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself instinctively stepping back, your back pressing against the wall of the building behind you. Remy followed, his tall frame towering over you as he placed one hand on the wall beside your head, effectively trapping you between him and the wall. But you didn’t mind. In fact, the way his body was so close to yours, the way his gaze never wavered from your eyes, only made your pulse quicken.

“You lookin’ too fine t’night, chère,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with that teasing edge you knew so well. “Can’t blame a man for wantin’ t’take his time, no?”

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry as his gaze flickered down to your lips, his own lips curling into a wicked smile. He was enjoying this—enjoying the effect he had on you, the way your breath hitched when he got too close, the way your heart seemed to race whenever he looked at you like this.

“Remy…” you began, your voice barely above a whisper.

He raised an eyebrow, his hand still resting on the wall beside your head, his other hand now reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered against your skin, the touch sending another shiver through you. “Oui, ma chère?” he asked, his voice teasing but with a rough edge to it that sent your heart racing.

You tried to keep your voice steady, but it was hard when he was looking at you like that—like he wanted to devour you whole. “We’re supposed to be going to dinner,” you reminded him, though the words came out weaker than you intended.

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. “Dinner can wait,” he murmured, leaning in just a little closer, his lips dangerously close to yours. “I’d rather enjoy de view right here.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand slid from your ear down to your neck, his thumb brushing lightly against your pulse point. You were sure he could feel how fast your heart was beating, how your entire body seemed to be reacting to his every touch, his every word.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the world around you fading into nothing as the tension between you crackled like electricity. Remy’s eyes were half-lidded, his gaze heavy as he looked down at you, his lips barely an inch from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the closeness of his body making it difficult to think straight. Your whole world had narrowed to this one moment, this one person. He was all that mattered.

You weren’t sure what would have happened next if someone hadn’t coughed loudly from behind him.

Remy turned his head, glancing over his shoulder with an annoyed expression, though it only lasted a moment before softening into a smirk. “My apologies,” he drawled with a chuckle, glancing back at you, “looks like we got us an audience.”

You peeked around his body to see an older man and woman standing a little ways down the street, both of them eyeing Remy suspiciously. The older man had his arm around the woman’s shoulders, and they both looked like they were trying to get somewhere. But it was clear that they didn’t want to get any closer as long as Remy was in their way.

Remy watched them for a moment before turning back to you. He had a mischievous look in his eye, his grin curling up at one corner. “Guess we better get outta here, no?” he murmured.

Without waiting for your response, he reached down, sliding a hand behind your knees before scooping you up into his arms. You yelped in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep yourself steady. And then he was walking, moving down the alley toward the next street.

But he didn’t stop at the end of the alley. Instead, he kept moving, bringing you further and further into the deserted alleyway.

“Remy, what are you doing?” you asked, your brow furrowing with confusion.

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze flickering around the alley, looking for something. After a minute or so, he found what he was looking for—another side alley, this one completely deserted and lined with tall walls on either side, the only way out at the very end. Remy turned, striding toward it with purposeful steps.

You squirmed in his arms, looking around the deserted alley. “What’re you doing?” you demanded, frowning.

“Give me a minute, chère,” he drawled, still walking, his eyes on the path ahead. “Promise you’ll like it.”

A moment later, he stopped and set you down against the wall. And before you could open your mouth to complain, he was kissing you.

Remy knew how to kiss. He’d always known how to kiss. But this was different. There was something deeper to it, something more urgent. He pressed against you, pinning you to the wall as his lips claimed yours in a bruising kiss that left your head spinning. You clung to him, gasping as he drew back for a moment before claiming you again.

His hands skimmed up your thighs, slipping beneath your skirt with a quiet rustle of fabric. You gasped at the feeling of his calloused palms against your bare skin, but before you could catch your breath, he was moving again, his hands sliding up your back to slip beneath the waistband of your panties. He cupped your bottom in a firm grip, pulling you close as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips.

You were breathless, dizzy from the kiss and from the feeling of him holding you so close. Your legs were trembling, your mind swimming with sensations. All you could think was "yes". Yes to whatever he wanted.

Remy seemed to sense it, his lips curling into a triumphant smirk against yours as his hands began to slide downward, slipping beneath the hem of your skirt once more. He broke the kiss, trailing his mouth along your jaw and down to the sensitive skin of your neck, the words "Mon dieu" escaping him in a low groan as his fingers brushed against the damp fabric of your panties.

“Remy,” you gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders, “Remy, wait—”

“I ain’t waitin’ no more, ma belle,” he murmured against your skin, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your panties to tease lightly at your entrance. You gasped again, your head falling back against the wall.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “Like you been waitin’ all day for this.”

You swallowed, a whimper escaping you. “I have,” you admitted.

He groaned softly, the sound sending a shiver through you. And then his mouth was on you, his teeth scraping against your skin as he dragged his lips down to your chest, pausing only to claim one of your nipples through the thin fabric of your top.

You gasped at the sensation, your whole body trembling with need. And Remy seemed to know exactly what you needed, his touch becoming more insistent, his teeth biting lightly at your nipple through the fabric before his hands moved downward, his fingers teasing at your entrance before sliding in to the hilt.

You moaned, your body bucking against his hand as he began to pump in and out of you in a slow, torturous pace that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. You could hear your own ragged breathing echoing in the deserted alley, feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Remy broke away from your chest with a soft groan, his red-on-black eyes flashing up to yours as his fingers continued to work you. “God, chère, you look so fuckin’ good,” he murmured huskily, “you like this? You like when I finger you like this?”

“Mmhm,” you whimpered, your head falling back again, your eyes fluttering closed. “Feels so good.”

He chuckled low in his throat, his hand slowing as if savoring the way your muscles clenched around his fingers. “You feel so good, baby,” he muttered, his voice low, “so good…God, I could stay here all night.”

It wasn’t what he said that got your attention, however. It was what he did next.

With one smooth movement, he dropped to his knees, his hands withdrawing from your panties before reaching up to hike your skirt upward. His eyes were half-lidded as he looked up at you, his gaze heated. “Don’t wanna rush things, chère,” he muttered. “Want to enjoy it.”

And then he was leaning in, his lips brushing against your inner thigh.

You gasped, your eyes flying open as his breath washed over you, the sound of your own panting echoing off the alley walls. Remy’s mouth felt hot against you, his lips moving in gentle, teasing kisses against your inner thighs as his fingers moved back to your panties, easing them down to mid-thigh before grasping one of your legs to drape over his shoulder. You could feel your cheeks flush, the feeling of being exposed so completely sending a thrill through you.

Remy glanced up at you, his red eyes flashing with something dark. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “I love lookin’ at you. Can’t wait t’taste you.”

His mouth was on you again before you could even register his words, his lips brushing lightly at your clit before his tongue came out to swipe at it in a featherlight touch.

You cried out, your whole body shuddering as his mouth began to move against you in slow, deliberate strokes. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced. Remy’s tongue was wickedly talented, the way it danced against your clit and the rest of you sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as your body began to tremble. He groaned softly against you, his mouth moving faster, his tongue circling against your clit before beginning to flick rapidly back and forth. The feeling was exquisite, a feeling like you were on the very edge of something incredible.

“Remy—oh god, Remy, I’m going to cum,” you gasped.

His mouth never stopped, his tongue still working magic against you as one of his hands slipped back beneath your panties, his fingers beginning to thrust inside you in time with his tongue. You cried out, your nails digging into his scalp as your entire body began to shake, pleasure coursing through every cell in your body. You came hard, gasping his name over and over again as you shuddered against him, his tongue never stopping as he brought you to the very edge and then pushed you over.

You were still trembling when he finally pulled back, his red eyes burning with something dark as he leaned in to kiss your thigh again. He stayed there for a moment, his face pressed against your inner thigh as you caught your breath, your mind still reeling from the orgasm that had just rocked your entire world.

When he finally stood, it was with an unholy grin on his lips. “Mm,” he murmured huskily as he pulled your panties back up, his fingers trailing up over your bare thigh to the hem of your skirt, “I knew you’d taste like heaven.”

You blushed, unable to stop it, though his words sent another shiver of pleasure through you. It wasn’t often that Remy got serious with you. Most of the time, he treated you like you were both kids, teasing you mercilessly and treating everything like a big joke.

But in this moment, he didn’t look like he was joking. In this moment, the look in his eyes was dark, his face closer to yours than it had been in a long time. You could see every fleck of color in his eyes, every eyelash, every line on his face. And when his mouth brushed against yours in a soft kiss, you could taste yourself on his tongue.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, breaking the kiss. “Mon dieu, you’re incredible.”

You swallowed, feeling another blush rise up your cheeks. “So are you,” you murmured back.

His smile faltered for just a moment, something darker flashing behind his eyes. But then he smirked again, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose. “Dinnae frett, chère. I ain’t never gonna forget dis night.” And with that, he stepped back, offering his arm. “Shall we go t’dinner?”

You blinked, your mind still half-dazed from everything that had happened. But as you took his arm and let him lead you from the alley, you realized that it didn’t matter. As long as you were with him, anything was possible. Anything at all. And right now, that was all that mattered. The world could wait. The only thing you wanted was more of this, more of him, more of the way he made you feel. And you knew he could deliver, every time, without fail. He always did. He always would. And as he led you out of the alley and back into the bustling streets of New Orleans, you knew that this night wouldn’t be one you’d ever forget, either. Not in a million years. Not with Remy LeBeau on your arm.

[rafedarling]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: drew tries to play a playful prank by taking off his wedding ring, but his smart and sweet 2-year-old son, rustyn, immediately notices and innocently points out that it might make mommy sad. what starts as a simple joke turns into a heartwarming reminder of the love and connection between you, drew, and your son, and the importance of the little things that symbolize that love.

warning(s): english is not my native language. pure fluff, heartwarming family moments, playful teasing, and deep emotional connections.

au’s: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday

The afternoon sun streamed lazily through the living room windows, casting a soft, golden glow over the space. The warmth of the sunlight and the gentle sound of waves from outside made everything feel peaceful and calm—your perfect little haven. You were curled up on the couch with your son, Rustyn, nestled comfortably in your lap, his small head resting against your chest. He was two, but sometimes you marveled at how much older he seemed, with his sharp curiosity and his endless questions.

Rustyn’s favorite book was in your hands as you read to him, your voice soft and soothing as you flipped through the colorful pages. Every few moments, Rustyn would point to a picture and ask you about it. His little hands would grab at the air in excitement as he processed each new detail.

“Mommy, why is that bunny wearing a hat?” Rustyn asked, his bright blue eyes full of curiosity.

You chuckled softly, brushing a hand through his soft curls. “Maybe he’s going on an adventure, sweetie. What do you think?”

Rustyn considered this seriously, his face scrunching up in concentration. “Yeah, maybe. I like adventures.”

“I know you do,” you said with a smile, kissing the top of his head. “You’ll have lots of them when you get bigger.”

Rustyn nodded, clearly satisfied with your answer, and snuggled closer to you. He let out a small sigh, content in the warmth of your embrace. You couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling with love as you continued to read. These were the moments you cherished—the quiet, everyday moments that made your little family feel complete.

As you were nearing the end of the story, you noticed Drew standing in the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter. He was watching the two of you with that familiar look of affection in his eyes, the one that always made you feel so loved. But today, there was something else—a mischievous twinkle that you hadn’t quite noticed before.

Drew took a sip of water, then set the glass down with a small, playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was up to. He didn’t say anything, just casually strolled into the living room and leaned down to scoop Rustyn up from your lap.

“Come here, little man,” Drew said, his voice warm as he lifted Rustyn into his arms.

Rustyn squealed in delight, wrapping his tiny arms around Drew’s neck and giggling as Drew spun him around in a playful circle. “Dada!” Rustyn cried out, his laughter echoing through the room.

“Having fun with Mommy?” Drew asked, settling Rustyn on his hip, still grinning as he glanced at you.

“Yeah! Mommy was reading to me,” Rustyn said proudly, his voice full of excitement.

But as Rustyn snuggled against Drew, his sharp little eyes caught something unusual. He tilted his head, his gaze narrowing in confusion as he stared at Drew’s left hand. You hadn’t noticed it before, but now, following Rustyn’s gaze, you realized that Drew’s wedding ring was missing.

Rustyn furrowed his tiny brow, clearly puzzled. His voice, though small and innocent, was filled with a sense of concern. “Dada...where’s your ring?”

You blinked, surprised by how quickly Rustyn had noticed. You hadn’t even realized it yourself, but there it was—Drew’s left hand, conspicuously bare. You glanced at Drew, raising an eyebrow as you waited for him to respond.

Drew, ever the playful one, kept his cool. He smiled down at Rustyn, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Oh, that? Dada just didn’t feel like wearing it today, buddy.”

Your mouth dropped open slightly as you watched Drew, a mixture of amusement and curiosity bubbling up inside you. What was he up to? He knew how much that ring meant to both of you, and though it wasn’t a serious situation, you couldn’t help but wonder how this was going to play out.

Rustyn, however, wasn’t so easily fooled. His little face scrunched up again, and he looked from Drew’s hand to your face, his innocent expression filled with concern. He tugged lightly on Drew’s shirt, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

“Dada,” Rustyn said in his most serious tone, his voice soft but full of wisdom beyond his years, “you know you gonna make Mommy sad.”

The room fell into silence, the weight of Rustyn’s innocent words settling between the three of you. You felt your heart swell as you looked at your son, his little face so earnest and full of love for both of you. His concern for your feelings, even at such a young age, was enough to make your heart melt.

Drew’s grin faltered slightly as he looked at Rustyn, clearly taken aback by his son’s sharp observation. The teasing light in his eyes softened, and he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh really?” he asked, his voice filled with affection as he looked back down at Rustyn. “You think Mommy will be sad if I don’t wear my ring?”

Rustyn nodded, his tiny hand reaching out to touch Drew’s bare finger. “Yeah, ‘cause it means you love her.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at Rustyn’s sweet words, and you had to blink back the sudden tears that pricked at your eyes. How did this little boy know so much? How could someone so young be so in tune with your feelings? It was moments like these that reminded you just how special Rustyn was.

Drew’s eyes softened even further as he looked at you, and the playful smirk faded into something much more tender. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wedding ring with a slow, deliberate motion. He slid it back onto his finger, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Well, we can’t have Mommy being sad, can we, buddy?” Drew said softly, his voice warm as he turned his attention back to Rustyn. “Is that better?”

Rustyn’s face lit up with a smile so wide it made your heart flutter. “Yeah, Dada! Now you make Mommy happy again!”

Drew chuckled, glancing at you with a loving smile. “What do you think? Is our little man right? Does the ring make you happy?”

You smiled back at him, your heart full as you nodded. “He’s always right,” you said softly, reaching out to gently squeeze Drew’s hand. “You know how much that ring means to me.”

Drew leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his hand still entwined with yours. “I know, baby,” he whispered, his voice low and full of affection.

Rustyn, clearly pleased with the resolution of the situation, snuggled into Drew’s chest, his tiny arms wrapping around his dad’s neck. “Dada loves Mommy,” he said with absolute certainty, as if there had never been any doubt.

Drew smiled, looking down at Rustyn with nothing but love in his eyes. “You’re right, Rusty. I love Mommy very much.”

Rustyn nodded solemnly, as if he had solved a great mystery. “I knew it,” he said with a proud grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your heart swelling with love for both Drew and Rustyn. You reached out, wrapping your arms around both of them, pulling them into a warm hug. “I love you both so much,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to Rustyn’s cheek before turning to Drew and kissing him softly on the lips.

Drew smiled against your lips, his hand resting on the small of your back as he held you close. “We love you too,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth and tenderness.

As the three of you sat there, wrapped up in each other’s love, the world outside seemed to fade away. It was just the three of you—your perfect little family, full of love, laughter, and moments like these that made everything else seem small in comparison.

Rustyn, ever the observant toddler, let out a small yawn, his little body relaxing as the excitement of the day began to catch up with him. He nestled deeper into Drew’s arms, his eyes fluttering closed as he snuggled into the warmth of his dad’s chest.

As you watched Drew tuck your son into bed, your heart swelled with love once more. It was moments like these—simple, sweet moments—that made you realize just how lucky you were to have this little family.

As Drew gently closed Rustyn’s bedroom door, he turned to you with a soft smile, his hand reaching for yours. “You know I was just teasing with the ring, right?” he asked quietly, pulling you into his arms as he led you back toward the living room. His voice was low and full of sincerity now, the earlier playfulness gone, replaced by a quiet tenderness.

You smiled up at him, resting your hand against his chest as you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your palm. “I know,” you replied softly, your eyes meeting his. “But Rustyn was right. It does mean a lot to me, even if it’s just a ring.”

Drew’s expression softened even further, and he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “I know, baby. I’ll never take it off again, I promise,” he said, his tone serious but still filled with that warmth you loved so much. “At least not without a really good reason.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. “You better not,” you teased, your voice playful but laced with affection.

Drew smiled down at you, his forehead resting against yours as he held you in the quiet comfort of the moment. “I know I joke around sometimes,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t ever want you to doubt how much I love you. This ring—it’s a promise, not just for show.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, your hand still resting against his chest as you leaned into him. “I never doubt it,” you whispered back. “Not for a second.”

The two of you stood there for a few more moments, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. The house was quiet now, save for the soft sound of Rustyn’s rhythmic breathing coming from his bedroom, and the golden light of the setting sun cast a warm glow through the windows, making everything feel peaceful and serene.

Drew’s arms tightened around you slightly, and he let out a contented sigh, his lips brushing against your temple as he held you. “Rustyn’s growing up so fast,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and awe. “I still can’t believe how smart he is—how much he picks up on.”

You smiled softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “I know,” you agreed, your voice filled with love for your little boy. “He’s always surprising me with how much he understands. I wasn’t expecting him to notice your ring like that.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Neither was I. I thought I’d get away with the prank at least until bedtime.” His smile softened, and he glanced down at his hand, where the ring now sat securely. “But you know what? I’m glad he noticed.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Why’s that?”

Drew’s eyes met yours again, his gaze full of love and affection. “Because it reminded me how much this little ring means. Not just to you, but to him too. He understands that it’s important—he gets that it’s a symbol of how much we love each other. And that… well, that makes me even prouder to wear it.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently brushing along his jawline. “You’re a good man, Drew Starkey,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Drew smiled, his eyes soft and full of love. “And you’re the love of my life,” he replied, his voice just as tender.

He leaned down then, capturing your lips in a slow, sweet kiss that made your heart flutter in your chest. His hands rested gently on your waist as he pulled you even closer, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours, a perfect rhythm that matched the quiet contentment of the moment.

When you finally pulled away, Drew rested his forehead against yours once more, his breath warm against your skin. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the stillness of the room.

“For what?” you asked softly, your fingers gently threading through his hair.

“For this. For our life. For Rustyn. For everything.” He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression filled with so much love that it made your heart ache. “I wouldn’t trade a single moment for anything.”

You smiled, feeling the same rush of love and gratitude that you felt every time you looked at him. “Neither would I,” you whispered back.

The two of you stood there everything felt perfect—your little family, your life together, the quiet joy that filled your days. It wasn’t always grand gestures or big moments that made life special. Sometimes, it was the small, simple things—like the way Drew looked at you when he wore his ring, or the way Rustyn’s innocent questions could change the course of a day—that reminded you just how lucky you were.

[dovesdreaming]

Shadows of the night

Summary: you wake up from a nightmare to discover Loki gone. Panicked, you go searching for him seeking comfort.

Request

Masterlist

-

You jolted awake, gasping for breath as the remnants of the nightmare clung to your mind like thick, suffocating smoke. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, and a cold sweat coated your skin. Frantic, you reached out to the opposite side of the bed, searching for the comforting presence of Loki. But the space beside you was cold and empty. The panic that had gripped you in your dream flared anew, your pulse quickening as your hand slid over the sheets, finding nothing but absence. Blinking in the dark, you sat up, the shadows of your nightmare still lurking in the corners of your vision. A tight knot formed in your throat. Where was he?Swallowing hard, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up, your feet barely making a sound against the floor as you padded out of the bedroom. The halls of the tower were eerily silent at this late hour, the only noise your own shaky breathing as you searched for Loki. It was unlike him to be away from your side, especially in the dead of night.

As you moved further into the tower, the faintest light flickered beneath the door to his study. Relief washed over you, your legs weak as you hurried toward the door and quietly pushed it open. There he was, Loki, sitting at his desk, his raven hair falling in waves around his face as he focused intently on some parchment laid out before him. The soft glow of candlelight cast shadows across his sharp features, giving him a regal, almost ethereal look, like something out of a dream. Or, more accurately, a nightmare you were desperate to wake from. “Loki…” you breathed, your voice fragile, trembling with the fear you hadn’t yet shaken off.

He immediately looked up, his sharp green eyes narrowing in concern as he took in your disheveled appearance. “Darling, whats wrong?” His voice was gentle, soothing, as he stood and closed the distance between you in seconds. His hands were on your arms, cool and steady, grounding you in the present. “Are you okay?”. You blinked up at him, struggling to find the words as the weight of your fear began to unravel in the safety of his presence. “I had a nightmare” you whispered, your voice thick with lingering panic. “And when I woke up.. you weren’t there”. His expression softened instantly, a tender sort of guilt crossing his features as he pulled you into his arms without hesitation. “Shh” he murmured, his voice like velvet as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you. I thought I’d be back before you woke”.

You buried your face in his chest, your breath still shaky as his scent and warmth surrounded you, calming the frantic beat of your heart. “I…I thought something happened” you admitted, your words muffled against the fabric of his shirt. “I know it sounds silly, but..” “It’s not silly” Loki interrupted softly, his arms tightening around you. He gently stroked your hair, his fingers weaving through the strands in a familiar, comforting rhythm. “You’re safe, and I’m here now”.

You nodded against him, letting his cool touch and steady presence soothe the last of your panic. His fingers trailed down to your back, drawing light circles that eased the tension in your muscles. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. It was just the sound of your breathing, gradually slowing to match his. When you finally pulled back enough to look up at him, Loki gazed down at you with those piercing green eyes, filled not with mischief or arrogance, but with something deeper, something vulnerable and reassuring. He gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “You’re trembling” he observed, his voice low, a touch of worry lacing his words. “I…I still feel it” you admitted quietly. “The fear. It won’t go away”. Loki’s gaze softened even more as he pressed his forehead to yours, his cool breath mingling with your own. “Then let me take it from you” he whispered. “You’ve carried it long enough”.

His magic flared gently in the air between you, subtle and comforting. You felt it wash over you like a cool breeze, easing the tightness in your chest, calming the storm of emotions swirling inside you. It was as if Loki could draw the fear from your very soul, replacing it with a sense of peace only he could give. Slowly, the nightmare’s grip on your mind began to fade, like fog lifting from the shore. You exhaled a long, shaky breath, finally feeling the fear unravel completely. “Thank you” you whispered, your voice small but filled with relief. Loki pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled back, his hands still cradling your face. “You never need to thank me” he murmured. “I’ll always be here when you need me”.

For a moment, you just stood there, wrapped in the quiet safety of his presence, the darkness of the nightmare a distant memory now. Loki’s hands never left you, grounding you in the present, anchoring you to him. “Come” he said softly after a while, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “Let’s go back to bed. You need rest”. You nodded, your body still weak from the emotional toll of the night. But as Loki led you back to your shared bedroom, his hand firmly holding yours, you felt lighter, safer, knowing he was beside you. Once you were both back in bed, Loki pulled you close, wrapping his arm around your waist and letting you rest your head on his chest. His steady heartbeat was a soothing lullaby, his cool skin a comfort against the lingering warmth of anxiety.

“Sleep, my love” he whispered into your hair. “I’ll keep the nightmares at bay”. And for the first time that night, you truly relaxed. As you drifted back into sleep, Loki’s presence wrapped around you like a shield, guarding you from the darkness. With him beside you, you knew no dream, no matter how terrifying, could ever reach you again.

-

Thank you for reading!!

[jamsunstone]

How Outer Wilds handles horror

Part 1: Dark Bramble

**MAJOR OUTER WILDS SPOILERS BELOW. MAINLY FOCUSED ON DARK BRAMBLE, BUT ALSO SPOILS PARTS OF THE ENDGAME**

Dark Bramble is about being scared.

It's a planet that looks like Pluto swallowed an angry seed. Getting close to it pulls you in harder than even Giant's Deep. And something about the fog in the center is just eerie. And once you're in there? You can't see shit. You're flying blind, crashing into branches, finding exits only to become lost in an entirely new way, you fly towards a light and remember just too late about the anglerfish skeleton you saw in the observatory. You can learn it's secrets and find the optimal paths through, but it never gets less scary.

Horror games rely on novelty. If you've seen something 100 times, the scare factor wears off, so horror games can't overplay their hand. Dark Bramble is one of many points of interest in the solar system of Outer Wilds, and has less important pieces of knowledge by quantity when compared to the other big planets. Unless you're constantly flying into anglerfish mouths, you're not gonna visit Dark Bramble as much as the other planets. That's how it maintains it's novelty.

But hey, maybe you're not me and you got over Dark Bramble after a couple visits. That's fine! Outer Wilds is partially a game about conquering fear of the unknown through knowledge anyway. So you go through your final loop, and pick up the warp core, and that familiar music kicks in and… oh. You're no longer protected. And you've gotta get this thing to the vessel… in Dark Bramble. And it's behind the anglerfish nest. Oh. The trick of Dark Bramble is revealed. You think you've overcome it, and then it swallows you up and this time, you've got no time loop to save you. One shot. And that journey is terrifying. But you have to make it. You can't put this thing back in the box. So you drift through a lightless void, filled with giant fish that are floating like they're dead and breathing down your neck. You can't control your ship, or the sound of your engines will wake them up. You can't go faster, despite the supernova time limit.

So you drift.

That's the genius of Dark Bramble. The way my heart dropped when I realised where the warp core had to go. The way I couldn't breath as I drifted through a field of fish. The satisfaction and triumph when I reached the vessel, slotted in the core, and realised I would never have to see those evil fish again (haha shut up). In that moment I became the Nomai, chasing a mysterious signal despite not knowing where it would lead them. I became the Hearthians, building spaceships out of wood and scavenged materials and rocketing into space. I became Riebeck, who did it while scared.

Dark Bramble is about being scared, but pushing through anyway.

[shokosmokes]

﹒◌﹒hockey au﹒✧﹒

part 4!

im glad u guys are enjoying this as much as i am (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

this chapter is a short one lining up the next chapter - this one’s bit more angsty

m.list

———————————————————————

yuji x reader x megumi

tags:

a bit of angst, fluff, love triangle

The crowd is roaring, but all you can hear is the steady thump of your heart against your ribs. You haven’t seen them together since that last match. The memory still clings to you, the way the air felt so thick between all three of you. Now, standing in the packed stadium, nerves bundled tightly in your stomach, you try to focus on the game.

The whistle blows, and the match begins. Yuji is all energy, his athleticism on full display as he darts across the ice. Megumi, more composed but no less skilled, skates with calculated precision. You can’t help but follow both of them, your eyes torn between their movements. It’s thrilling, but in the back of your mind, all you can think about is what will happen afterward.

When the final buzzer sounds, signaling their win, the crowd erupts. Your nerves spike again. You should be excited, but all you feel is the tension building in your chest. You make your way down toward the locker room, telling yourself to stay cool. No need to make things more awkward than they already are.

As soon as you see them—Yuji’s bright smile as he spots you, Megumi’s gaze flicking between the two of you—you know something has shifted. The three of you stand there, and despite their victory, there’s an odd weight hanging between you.

"Congrats!" you manage, your voice a little too chipper as you force a smile. “You guys were amazing out there.”

Yuji grins wider, his energy contagious. “Thanks! Did you see that shot I made? I’ve been practicing that for days.” He’s glowing with excitement, the happiness radiating off of him.

You laugh, the tension easing as you fall into your usual banter. “Oh, that shot? You mean the one you almost missed if Megumi hadn’t bailed you out?”

Yuji gasps in mock offense, slapping a hand to his chest. “Okay, rude! I had it perfectly under control!”

"Sure you did," you tease, feeling the familiar ease settle in. It feels good to talk to Yuji like this, his goofy charm always so easy to fall into.

But as the conversation flows naturally between you and Yuji, you catch glimpses of Megumi from the corner of your eye. He’s watching you both, his expression quiet, almost distant. And with every passing moment, he seems to grow more withdrawn, his usual calm presence replaced by something more guarded. It’s not like him to fade into the background like this.

Yuji, as oblivious as ever, doesn’t seem to notice. “Hey, we should all hang out this weekend. Celebrate the win, you know?”

"Yeah, maybe," you say, your voice trailing off as you glance back at Megumi. He hasn’t said a word since the conversation started, his gaze now lowered to the ground, avoiding yours.

“I gotta head out,” Megumi mutters, his voice low as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I’ll catch you guys later.” Before you can say anything, he turns and walks off, leaving you standing there with Yuji.

You blink, confused. “Did I… did I say something?”

Yuji just shrugs, though a frown tugs at his lips. “That’s just Megumi being Megumi. Don’t sweat it.”

But it doesn’t feel right. As you watch him leave, that gnawing feeling returns, settling heavily in your chest. Something is off, and you can’t shake the sense that whatever it is, it isn’t going away.

---

In the days that follow, Megumi grows even more distant. It’s not just in passing conversation—it’s like he’s actively avoiding you. No more random texts, no more inside jokes, nothing. Every time you try to talk to him, he finds a way to brush you off or disappear altogether.

The hollow ache that started small in your chest grows each time he pulls away, until it feels like all you can think about is the space between you. The moments where he would usually be are filled with silence now, and you can’t stop wondering why.

It hurts. More than you want to admit.

Then, one evening, your phone buzzes. You grab it off your bed, half-expecting it to be Megumi, hoping it will be, but it’s not. It’s Yuji.

*Hey! You wanna hang out? Been too long.*

You stare at the message, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. For a second, you consider saying no, making some excuse about being too busy. But then you think about Megumi, about how much the distance between you is eating at you, and decide that maybe you need a distraction. Something to get your mind off of it.

*Sure, when and where?* you reply.

Maybe spending time with Yuji will help. Maybe it will make the ache in your chest a little less unbearable.

———————————————————————

already in the midst of writing the next part so expect an update fairly soon hehe

thanks 4 the read !!

[usodeshou]

Accidental exhaustion naps are wild. They take you under in a heartbeat, make you dream the most insane shit and then spit you back out, and after waking up you feel completely disconnected from time and space, as if you exist in a bubble that is a snapshot of reality surrounded by nothing but black emptiness, and if it were to burst, you'd turn into a mist of water along with it and simply fade away. Completely bonkers.

[ridher]

rafe cameron defending his shy & non-confrontational girl

one the the biggest perks in a relationship with rafe is how different he is from you, opposites attract or something like that.

his charismatic and confident nature makes it easy for him to interact — and more importantly, get what he wants. something you, however, tended to struggle with. it's not a negative quality, just the way you grew up and part of your personality rafe loves so much.

he caught on right away and it was what drew him towards you. being able to provide for his girl and be the man she relied on was truly all he could wish for — especially in situations like these.

today, you and your boyfriend went out to the country club, a common pastime for the two of you. he would hit a few holes and you'd watch all prettily from the golf cart, sipping on a drink that'd get you tipsy and clingy — just happy to be there.

that is, until another cart pulls up, the sound startling you before you're able to turn and look over at the disruption.

it's a group of asshole kook boys — something you used to assume about rafe, so you remain nonjudgmental. the rowdy group of three is focused on you since your boyfriend is a few meters away, zoned in on his sport.

"yo! could you go any fuckin' slower?" the driver shouts, hanging out the side of the open vehicle. his words leave you stunned, mouth agape and face heating up from the accusation you weren't sure how to handle.

instinctively, your head snaps back towards rafe who's already making his way back over with his club held dangerously tight in his grip — knuckles white and all.

"i'm sorry, i said something, didn't i?" the boy speaks back up, trying to get your attention through the subtle insult.

it works, because you look back over at the group, silent and overwhelmed by conflict. something that wouldn't seem like a big deal to others — namely your boyfriend who's already handling it with nothing more than a tense jaw in reaction — feels equivalent to the end of the world.

like always, rafe fixes it for you and they speed away with a wave of the middle finger — directed towards who is unclear.

he snaps you out of it with the touch of his hand on your chin, refocusing your eyes to connect with his. bracing the other on the roof of the golf cart, his body leans over yours and speaks up all low and soft just for you.

"that was all 'cause of me. nobody's mad at you, aight?" and he knows just what to say. if your eyes could be filled with hearts, they would be — instead, dilated pupils fill the color of your iris almost completely and you're nodding at his reassurance, mind hazy.

he smirks lazily, ego inflated at the feeling of being your savior and the confirmation that he is that person for you.

pressing a wet, sloppy kiss to your forehead, he taps firmly at your hip as a signal to scoot over so he can slide into the driver's seat and take control. all is well again when he feels your head fall to his shoulder during the bumpy ride across the course.

his large hand snakes around your waist and his thumb nudges the hem of your shirt when it starts circling absentmindedly.

the outing is cut short for reasons neither of you need to communicate, even more so when rafe hurries the two of you back to tanneyhill where he all but manhandles you up the stairs and into the familiar space of his bedroom — giggles and affectionate kisses following all the way.

[luxaofhesperides]

the beginning - danny

0.

The Lazarus Pit brings Danny back.

The child who went into them, however, is gone forever.

Danyal al Ghul is the soul who should reside in this body. Danyal has a life still to live and Danny died ages ago, old and surrounded by loved ones, ready to spend the rest of his forever in the Infinite Realms.

Something's gone terrible wrong, he thinks rather wryly, squinting through the cold green water that surrounds him. An ache echoes through his body and he brings a hand—small, a child's hand that shouldn't belong to him— to his stomach, where he can feel a large wound slowly pull itself together.

Did I get stabbed?

He means to continue the thought, but a sharp pain hits his head, making him curl up. He gasps and air bursts from his lungs, water rushing to fill in the empty space. Danny chokes, panicking, as memories slide into place, the lives of Danyal al Ghul and Danny Fenton fighting for dominance in his head. His lungs burn, throat working futilely to push water out, but there's nothing to be done.

Danny is a child again, and just like last time, he dies young.

1. So.

Assassins.

Danny honestly can't tell if this is a step up or a step down from mad scientist parents. On the one hand: he knows they loved him, as clumsy as it was, even though they loved their work more. On the other hand: assassin cult sounds like something out of a fairy tale, and while cool, is definitely not safe for kids.

And Danny, somehow, is a child again.

This really wasn't what he expected when he woke up on the sandy bottom of the pit. He's in ghost form, which is an unpleasant shock, but at least its familiar.

He is also, if his memory as Danyal serves him correctly, nine years old.

Kinda sucks that he died so young this time round. Didn't even make it to the double digits before he was taken out of the running.

He can't remember what it was like being so small in his last life. He can't imagine how anyone would look at a child and run them through with a sword. It's a cruel world he's woken up in. It's made worse by the fact that he's alone.

At least being down here without needing to breathe is giving him valuable time to think.

Danny has lived a full life already. He didn't really need or want another one, content to be a full ghost in the Infinite Realms. But going back isn't really an option, now that he's in a new body. The kid he could have been deserves to live fully, and the least Danny can do is live that life for them.

It'll be hard, but Danny's sure he can manage a decent life for himself.

Being presumed dead will make his escape from the assassins easier, though he'll miss getting the chance to meet his new mother; assassin as she is, Danyal knows her not by her blades but by her soft lullabies and jasmine-scented hair. The loss of her child must be hurting her deeply, but it's necessary. If Danny wants any semblance of a normal life, he has to leave her behind.

Besides, he's seen enough death. He doesn't want to ever be the cause of it.

So, he needs a plan for this new life.

Step one: get out of dodge.

The rest he'll figure out on the way.

2.

Turns out assassins weren't the most shocking thing in this new life.

No, that honor goes to superheroes.

Genuine, honest to God superheroes! With powers and everything!

To think that Danny once called himself a superhero. Ha! As if! He's nothing compared to the likes of Superman or the Flash or even Green Lantern. They're in another league. Literally. They're part of the Justice League, which has a whole slew of other heroes, and Danny is possibly their biggest fan.

Not like that's weird; most people in this world are huge fans of superheroes. Makes sense, since they're the ones who rely on their protection the most.

It does suck to know that his background belongs to that of a villain. Assassins aren't known for saving people, after all.

Part of him contemplates becoming a hero again, taking up the role of Phantom and joining the ranks of Superman. But he's had many years to come to terms with the loss of his teenage years and the bitterness that came with it. That experience, that life once lived, helps him decide each time that being a civilian is the gift this life owes him.

At thirteen, Danny lives in a foster home with six other kids. He's the oldest and has his hands full taking care of everyone else while their foster parents work three jobs between them to keep them all afloat.

When his younger siblings play superheroes, he gladly takes the role of the villain, swooping in with a blanket to kidnap away an innocent bystander that has to be rescued. He falls over dramatically at the end of each fight and praises his siblings' strength and teamwork, making them puff up with pride.

It's all fun and games so long as it only stays fun and games.

Superpowers are cool and all, but his came at the cost of his life, his health, his future. He knows, better than anyone, the price of being a hero. He knows that even Superman carries heavy losses on his shoulders, struggles under burdens no one can see.

He's lucky that the small town he ended up in—Luray, Virginia—has no heroes or villains. Too small a place to be on anyone's radar, apparently.

His classmates often complain about how they wish they could live in a big city where there's more to do, more to see, superheroes flying through the streets to protect them.

Danny is happy where he is. It's quiet, and small, and nothing like what he's used to, but it's safe.

That's all he really wants.

3.

Here's something that stays the same no matter what world he's in: Danny is a magnet for trouble.

If the trouble stopped at bullies, everything would have been fine. Danny could handle Dash, and he could handle Justin just as easily.

But the universe loves to escalate with Danny, specifically, which is why Danny had to reveal his powers when some villain-wannabe school shooter attacked his high school.

And to think he felt bad for Jackson when he didn't make it onto the track team.

Luray does not have a meta population. They're too small to have much of a population at all, and much of it is white which made him, half-Iranian, stand out even before he threw out a barrier of ice to protect his classmates a second before the gunfire began.

"Danny?!" his seatmate, Clarrissa, cries out in alarm.

"Everyone get out the window and run for it!" he orders, "I hold him back as much as I can!"

"You can't stay here!"

"Don't worry," Danny says, offering her a tight smile. "He couldn't kill me even if he tried. Now go!"

His classmates hadn't wasted any more time, sending him shocked looks as they escaped the classroom. A glimpse of his reflection in the window revealed glowing green eyes and blue mist wafting out of his mouth.

Looks like his time in Luray is up. He hopes his foster siblings won't be too mad at him for running away.

The gunfire stops, and Danny takes his chance to leap through his ice, intangible, and tackle Jackson, easily knocking the gun away from him.

"Monster!" Jackson spits at him, and Danny laughs.

"Bold of you to say that. I'm not to one trying to kill people."

He doesn't want to hear anything else that comes out of Jackson's mouth, so he knocks the guy out with a solid hit to a pressure point on his neck. Hopefully that'll keep him down long enough for the cops to get him.

Danny stands and means to leave, but something hits the back of his head hard and he's out before he realizes what's happened.

When he wakes up, he's strapped down to a table in what is undeniably a lab, and sighs.

At least he made it to sixteen before he went into another lab. Maybe in his next life he might even get all the way up to twenty before he's pulled back down here.

4. Though he has all his powers and a ghost form, that doesn't mean he is a ghost in this life.

No, he's fully a meta, which means meta-suppressing cuffs work on him.

It's not exactly a discovery he was hoping to have while locked up in a lab, but it's what he's got, so he has to roll with it. The cuffs are heavy on his wrists and around his throat, keeping him from escaping as a group of people in masks and lab coats bustle around, ignoring him.

His head is still foggy, though likely more from the drugs than the hit he took to his head.

He doesn't bothering talking to any of them; they don't see him as human, and Danny's dealt with enough of that in his past life.

Mad scientists love to talk though, so he still hears the gist of their plans: recreating the meta gene for normal people, making a profit from selling powers, getting rich and famous from their accomplishments. They had been using Jackson to get corpses for human testing, but they got Danny instead — someone they can harvest bio material for, a much better find than a couple dead kids.

If he had the energy to rage, Danny would have killed everyone in the room already. They planned to kill his classmates just for test subjects.

He doesn't want to be an assassin, but he'd gladly lean into those old lessons to make sure they never hurt anyone again.

But the cuffs and drugs do a good job of keeping him docile, barely able to think, as they transport him around to different locations and cut him open.

He's not sure how long it's been when they ease up on the drugs a bit. It still takes time for his body to work through everything, and he comes too with a throat that's dry and a stomach that hasn't had anything in it for quite some time.

The first thing Danny does when they start asking him questions is throw up on them.

If they wanted cooperation, they should have treated him better. This is fully on them.

It makes for a convincing argument for food and water and a bathroom break, at least, so he gets what he demands and takes care of his human body under the cold gazes of three scientists.

"You guys suck," he says conversationally. "Keeping test subjects alive is like basic knowledge. No wonder y'all suck at your jobs."

"Your comments aren't needed," one of the scientists says primly. "Get up. We need to study how using your powers affects your body."

They hook a bunch of different things onto him, then lock him in a glass cage and use the cuff around his throat to send jolts of electricity through him when he doesn't do anything. He throws a chunk of ice at them, watching as it breaks apart into small pieces when it hits the glass. The scientists scribble in their notepads, and when they look at him again, he flips them off.

He gets shocked again, but it's worth it.

The process repeats for another few hours, then he's pulled out of the cage, gets an IV stuck in his arm, and drops off into drugged oblivion before he has time to start throwing hands.

5.

It must have been months. Danny's not sure; it's hard to keep track of time when locked in isolation.

He knows he's fed at least once a day. He's been getting a tray of bland food at random times, but he's counted over 50 trays sliding through the little slot on the bottom of his cell door.

Turns out insulting scientists and their procedures is a bad idea, especially when he has the language to really bruise their egos.

So.

Isolation sucks.

But at least they don't drug him anymore!

The cuffs do their job of keeping him in place, and if he didn't have memories of another life to keep him company, he definitely would have lost his mind long ago.

There's other people in here, other metas. He's heard them screaming and begging for mercy. He's heard them go chillingly quiet. He wonders why there are so many superheroes in this world when not a single one has come to save them.

Surely at least one would notice metas disappearing and would investigate?

But no.

No one ever comes to save them.

So Danny needs to figure out a way past the cuffs, and then he can be Phantom again long enough to free the other metas and make every scientist involve pay for their crimes.

He just needs to wait.

He just needs—

6.

When Danny wakes up, the alarms are ringing. It makes his head pound, throbbing with each piercing sound.

He stumbles up, using the wall to keep his balance, and freezes when he sees that the door to his cell is open.

…Huh.

The hallway is bathed in red light when he steps out. No one's around. He wanders around the facility, searching for answers and only finds more questions.

There are other cells, also empty. Certain rooms have blood splattered across the walls and the floor, but no bodies. Labs are destroyed, broken glass on the floor. But every room is empty.

He wanders until he finds what must be a security room. There's a strange device dangling off a keychain on a rack, and Danny eyes it curiously. He runs his fingers around the cuff on his throat, feels the little depression where the collar comes together, and takes the rounded device. If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work.

But if it does work…

The cuff pops open easily, as if it hasn't been his greatest foe these past few months.

All at once, his strength returns to him. He has forgotten what it was like to breathe easily, to feel his powers come to his call so easily, to be reassured that he can take care of himself.

It's almost like coming back to life.

He transforms, settling back into his ghost form with relief, and flies through the facility in search of any other metas that may need help. He finds no one, but he does catch a glimpse of the outside.

The sky is so blue it almost hurts to look at. Part of the facility has been blown apart; rubble surrounds the place and the surrounding forest has been flattened. It looks as though a fight has moved through the area.

Maybe a superhero did come to save them? Rude of them to leave only Danny, though.

He continues his search, poking his head into different rooms and hallways. He finds a staircase going down and follows it into the basement. More labs greet him, and the glow of computers and strange vials of liquid leave him unsettled.

There's a green glow coming around the corner than reminds him of the Lazarus Pit he flew out of, once upon a time many years ago, and that's what draws him forward.

Tucked away in that familiar glow is a small body, floating in a tube of liquid. There's an oxygen mask attached to her face, but that doesn't stop Danny from recognizing her.

"Ellie?"

7.

Just like in one life, Danny is cloned. The difference is that this time, there's no reason for it, no insane godfather trying to recreate a version of him that will choose him.

No, this time it's from a group of scientists who should have known better, who decided to mess around with his genes, and brought his once little sister now daughter into such a cruel, dangerous world.

Danny barely remembers breaking the glass to get her out of there. He doesn't know where he found the coat to bundle her up in, flying out of the facility as fast as he could. He feels sick, knowing it's his fault that she's here now, forced into a painful, terrifying existence because he wasn't strong enough to save himself.

He's a runaway meta victim of mad science. He can't take care of her.

"I'm sorry, Ellie," he whispers to her, pressing a kiss against her head. "I'm so sorry."

She small in his arms. She barely weighs anything.

Danny blinks back tears and tries to find some place he can stop and rest, somewhere safe he can gather his thoughts and figure out his next steps.

This isn't like when he first woke up in this world, with both sets of memories.

This is Ellie.

She deserves more than just a wish and a half-baked plan for a better life.

She deserves a family that wants her, that can care for her, that can protect her. She deserves to grow up normally and not worry about destabalizing or being a replacement for him or being hunted down.

She deserves one life to be a kid and grow up safe and be whoever she wants to be.

Danny will never be able to give her that.

But maybe he can give her to someone who can.

8.

Danyal grew up with an assassin mother and a cruel grandfather who expected far too much from a child. He was taught to kill and be more weapon than child. He was taught the world was something for him to take, to protect, to water with blood.

Danyal was meant to be the next Demon Head, and the next Bat.

Danny knows he can't go to his mother. If they're both lucky, he will never have to see her again. Knowing his luck, he's already planning explanations for why he never went back to her.

Danny's father, on the other hand…

It didn't take much to put the pieces together. The notorious Bat is Batman, Gotham's vigilante and one of the founders of the Justice League. While a child would have been left confused by the many comments his mother made about his father, it was simple enough for Danny to line them up with what he learned about the heroes of this world and realize, oh, that's my dad.

It takes a few weeks of research, using public libraries with Ellie tucked securely in a wrap to his chest, but he's able to learn more about Batman.

The most important thing being that he has kids.

Of course, none of this is officially acknowledged, but everyone knows that the Robins are his kids. Current Robin, especially, likes to remind people that he's 'the son of Batman'.

Okay. Cool.

Danny has siblings.

Awesome.

He's… not looking forward to those conversations.

At least it means more people to look after Ellie. Assuming they take her in, which Danny's really hoping for.

But it's the best he can do, so Danny sets course for Gotham and hopes that just this once, everything will work out.

9.

Meeting the Bats of Gotham is a lot harder than he expected.

A week in the city and he's barely caught more than a glimpse of them. He can't dedicate a lot of time to tracking them down either, needing to break into grocery stores to get food for him and Ellie.

She's so quiet as a baby, and it terrifies him. She's only cried twice the entire time he's had her, and Danny spends every day begging her to hold on.

Time during the day is spent catching naps and researching common vigilante spotting areas in Gotham. He's got a map of Gotham taken from a library and has been steadily marking it up, putting stars in the best places to find a Bat. There are places all over the city, and Danny has no idea how to know which ones are the best.

The only thing he can do is wait at a different rooftop each night, clinging to Ellie, wondering if this is the last night he has with her.

On the ninth night, someone finally arrives.

"Step away from the edge," a voice demands.

Danny turns to see Robin approaching, hands held out as if to catch him. He's bigger than Danny was expecting. Which makes sense; most of the stories Danny got online are from when Robin was a kid, and it's been a few years since then. He must be a teenager now. Older, but still young.

"Robin," he manages to say, his throat tightening. It feels almost like there's a noose around it. It feels like that meta-suppressing cuff has clicked back into place, leaving him helpless.

"Step away from the edge," Robin repeats. "There is no need for this to be your last resort."

"But it is," Danny whispers.

Robin darts forward and wraps a hand around Danny's wrist, yanking him towards the center of the roof. "Why on Earth would you come up here? Surely you must have known that someone would stop you."

"Batman," he gets out. "I need to speak to Batman."

"What for?"

"I'm… I was told, once, that I'm his son."

10. Robin stares at him for a long moment.

Then he takes off his mask.

Danny knows those eyes: he sees them every time he looks in a mirror.

"Danyal," Robin breathes. "You died before I was born."

"I did. Are you…?"

"Mother told me about you."

So he has a little brother. If only he hadn't left first chance he got, he could have known his little brother, gotten away from that place before it hurt him too. Danny has made many mistakes since he arrived in this world. Missing a little brother is perhaps the worst of them.

"Mother…" Danny repeats. "She put me in the Lazarus Pit. I remember that. She didn't want me to die."

"I was born to replace you."

Just like Ellie.

So many mistakes repeating. He's never felt like more of a failure.

"Batman. Our father. He treats you well? You are safe with him?"

Robins brows furrow, but he nods, which is enough for Danny. "Yes. Of course. Isn't that why you're here now?"

"I'm not asking for me." Danny carefully, gently, unwraps Ellie. "I'm asking for her. Please, take care of her. She deserves more than I can give her. Ellie… she'd be your niece."

Robin's eyes are wide. He's frozen until Danny pushes Ellie against his chest, forcing him to lift his arms to hold her.

"Wait, what about—?"

When Robin looks up, Danny's already gone.

It's for the best.

(masterpost for all parts)

[c0ffeejelly1]

When you call him your husband

Multiple character headcannons

Authors note: IM SORRYYYY I GOT LAZYYY but it’s only bc I’m writing a smutty fic rn which will be out when I decide for it to be out. So take these crumbs and be thankful.

Warnings: None. Just infatuated boys ig…

It was your typical Sunday movie night, a comforting routine before the reality of work awaited you both the next day.

You and your boyfriend had a tradition of keeping the night lively, so why not indulge in your favorite takeout?

“Hey babe? Where should we order from?” you called out from your cozy spot on the couch.

He peeked out from the cabinet, taking a moment to think before he replied,

“I’m easy; you know what I like.” He walked over, setting down two wine glasses.

“You wanna drink wine? It better not have alcohol, I’ve got work tomorrow y’know?”

He rolled his eyes playfully as he settled next to you.

“I’m not that childish…”

“Right, right. Anyway, quiet now; I’m ordering Chinese.”

He waited patiently, the sound of your phone ringing filling the space as he focused on pouring wine for both of you.

“Oh, and can I get the…”

His thoughts drifted until you gently poked him, signaling for his order. He quickly chimed in, and you continued,

“Ah..yeah, Sorry about that. My husband would like the special fried rice, no peas, please. That’s it, thank you! Bye!”

The type to not even realise it

You wore that familiar mischievous grin, the one that always hinted at your scheming, but when you glanced at your boyfriend, he seemed completely unfazed.

Instead, he was busy scrolling through movie options, casually asking for your thoughts.

..is he deaf or something?

You had even stressed the "husband" part, and this was his response?

You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel disappointed, and sort of offended!

With a scoff, you leaned back on the couch, arms wrapped around your legs.

This caused him to look at you.

“Baby, you alright?”

“Peachy.” you replied, though you were anything but.

How could he not have picked up on what you said? You had made it so clear, and now he was unintentionally ruining your plans.

You let out a heavy sigh, making sure he heard it.

“…what did I do now?”

“Oh nothing..”

The truth was, that was exactly why you felt upset—because he had done nothing. No reaction whatsoever.

But maybe it was just a misunderstanding; perhaps he hadn’t heard you.

Maybe you just needed to rephrase it.

“I heard this movie was good, you wanna watch it?”

“Sure, I’d love to, hubby.”

he reaches his arm out pulling you closer to him.

“Cool, I’ve actually had it on my mind for quite some time”

Okay this is just stupid.

There was NO way he hadn’t noticed your earlier comment.

It was painfully obvious, and it felt cringeworthy that he missed it. Maybe he was just playing dumb.

“Babe.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you repeat what I said like 2 seconds ago?”

“Um, okay..you said, ‘sure I’d love to, hubby’…” He blinked at you, clearly confused. “why do I need to repeat that?”

“Oh, just curious. Can you say the last word of that sentence?”

“Hubby?”

Suddenly, it clicked for him, and you could see the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“Oohh…”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Y-you called me your husband, huh?”

“Yep, I did.”

“That’s cute, but I’m still your boyfriend, baby.”

Why do you bother yourself with such a slow man?

characters: SERIZAWA, akashi, murasakibara, kuroko, giyuu, rengoku, nendou, kageyama, iwaizumi, akaashi, ushijima, geto, nanami, BEELZEBUB, belphegor, barbatos, TODOROKI, iida (anyone you like)

The type to stare at you confused

The frick you just call him?

He’s genuinely very confused and making it painfully obvious with the look he’s giving you.

“Who the hell you calling husband?”

Why did you just call him your husband?

He’s not your husband.

He’s not anyone’s husband!

He’s not even married!

At least, not yet… wait, are you actually thinking of proposing to him?! The very idea sends a jolt of panic through him.

He can’t let you take the lead on that!

Sure, ordering food might feel like a proposal in some bizarre universe, but if you were to pop the question instead of him, it would be a blow to his manhood , and he needs that manhood intact!

“I’m not your husband.” He insists.

“I didn’t say you were my husband”

Girl y’know damn well

“Y-yes you did! I just heard you say it!” His voice rises slightly, a hint of desperation creeping in as he tries to make sense of the situation.

“Maybe it was the wind..” you say with a casual shrug, lifting the wine glass from the table and taking a sip, as if the whole conversation is nothing more than a lighthearted joke.

He shoots you a glare, his brows furrowing in annoyance. “Stop messing with me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about…” you reply, feigning innocence, but the playful smirk on your lips gives you away.

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean! Y-you, I—ugh.”

“Look, it was just a slip of the tongue,” you say, trying to diffuse the tension, but the glimmer of mischief in your eyes suggests you’re enjoying this far too much.

“A slip of the tongue? You just casually referred to me as your husband. That’s not something you just slip into conversation.”

“Maybe I was just testing the waters,” you tease, leaning back into the couch, your expression playful yet challenging.

“Woman, you better watch it before I test yours”

“What does that even mean?”

“You wanna find out?”

You find out in the end yippee.

characters: dimple, midorima, AOMINE, SANEMI, aren, saiki, tsukishima, UKAI, kuroo, suna, toji, megumi, lucifer, satan, solomon, BAKUGO (anyone you like)

The type to be REALLY giddy about it

Honestly, he could have made an effort to contain his excitement a bit. But like a puppy with its tail wagging in pure joy he’s just so incredibly thrilled to hear you refer to him as your husband.

The way his eyes light up at the sound of those words is almost infectious, and you can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

“Baby..” he start, his voice a mix of eagerness and anticipation.

He’s completely lost in the moment, no longer focused on choosing a movie; that thought has faded to the background, overshadowed by the warmth of your connection.

“Yeah?”

“Say it again.”

His request is almost a whisper, but the intensity behind it is palpable.

He’s practically glowing, leaning in closer, invading your personal space with an eagerness; the way he looked at you, with those wide, adoring eyes that make your heart flutter.

“…say what again?" you tease, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

You know exactly what he wants, but you can’t resist the urge to draw it out a little longer.

“Y’know..come on, say it baby, please?”

His voice is laced with a mix of desperation and delight, and you can see the way his cheeks flush with excitement.

It’s as if the very idea of being called your husband fills him with a joy that he can hardly contain.

You take a moment, letting the silence stretch between you, enjoying the way he leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your skin.

Eventually, you relent, your heart swelling with affection.

“You mean me calling you my husband?”

“God, I love the sound of that,” he breathes, his smile widening as he pulls you into a tight embrace burning his face in between your neck inhaling your scent.

“You should call me that all the time baby..”

“Y’know… I could if we got married.”

Stop putting ideas in this man’s head.

characters: kise, RENGOKU (YES TWICE.), tengen, TORITSUKA, eren, connie, jean, reiner, nishinoya, oikawa, BOKUTO, tendou, atsumu, gojo, asmodeus, DIAVOLO, ITTO (anyone you like)

The type to break. Like he’s not moving anymore..

Pause.

What did you just say?

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.

“Huh?”

His mind is practically overloading at the moment, trying to process what exactly you had uttered from your mouth.

It’s as if time has momentarily frozen, and he’s caught in a loop, replaying your statement over and over.

Is his brain playing tricks on him? Surely, he heard you right, didn’t he?

The weight of the moment presses down on him, and he can’t shake the feeling that something monumental has just been said.

Is it just him, or is the temperature rising in this room?

The air feels thick, almost suffocating, and beads of sweat begin to form on his brow.

Is he coming down with something?

Why is he feeling so flushed, his cheeks burning as if he’s just sprinted a mile?

“You…” he stammers, searching for the right words, but they elude him.

“Babe?”

Silence hangs in the air, a palpable tension that seems to stretch on indefinitely.

“…Baby?”

Still, no answer. The worry in your voice deepens, in response to his silence.

“Dude, are you alright?” You inquire again, giving him a gentle shake, hoping to break through the fog that seems to envelop him.

He doesn’t even glance your way, lost in his own thoughts, wrapped up in a world of his own.

You can’t help but feel a twinge of concern—did calling him your husband really trigger all of this?

“Tomorrow.”

“The hell you talking about?”

“We’re getting getting married tomorrow.”

“..what.”

He’s lost all sense of time because of you.

characters: reigen, kagami, kaidou, armin, REINER (YESS AGAIN.), hinata, osamu, CHOSO, yuji, MAMMON, leviathan, izuku, denki, tamaki, childe (anyone you like)

[ryescapades]

a little something before i continue working on other stuff. (gn!reader)

"working late again?"

hoshina glances up from his work, seeing you leaning against the doorway to the office with your arms crossed. his heart does a little pitter-patter in his chest just at the sight of your fond smile.

"and to what do i owe the pleasure of your visit, my love?" he greets, pushing his rolling chair back to face you when you start approaching. you only give a small shrug before stepping closer, now standing in between his legs.

"would it be too much if i say that i've been missing my husband?" you murmur, reaching up to trail the back of your knuckle down the slope of his nose gently. hoshina shivers, both at the label and the cool sensation of the ring on your finger when your other hand comes up to his nape.

"a little too early to call me that, no? i only just proposed to ya a few days ago." he teases, making you raise an eyebrow. "so you don't like me calling you my husband?"

"i also don't like my dearest betrothed disturbing me when i'm clearly working here."

you let out an offended scoff, turning around and starting to step out of his space but you don't get far. butterflies fill your stomach when hoshina grabs your wrist, pulling you back into his proximity. "'m sorry, 'm sorry. i'm only kiddin', sweetheart." he chuckles.

"you're not funny, hoshina." you roll your eyes at him before your hands are back on the back of his neck, massaging the skin to relieve the corded muscles underneath. "mhm, i beg to differ." he mumbles, burying his face into your chest and arms wrapping around your waist.

"also just sayin', but you're going to be a hoshina soon too, you know?" he drawls pointedly before his fanged teeth take a light chomp on the front of your uniform, right on your sternum.

you hum, "not if you keep joking like how you just did." your fingers grip his hair to make him release the bite, relishing the sound of his pleased groan from the pull.

the next few minutes are filled with a comfortable silence, just you and him basking in each others' familiar scents and warmth before you sigh, "i'll wait for you. make sure to come to bed, soshiro. you need rest." you sternly say, starting to pull away from the embrace.

"rest is overrated, don't ya think?" he jests.

"yeah, okay. i'm locking the door from now on. better get used to sleeping outside, husband."

"sorry, sorry! i'll be there soon, i promise!"

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

Lovesick

This is a love letter to all of my wonderful friends, who I appreciate so so much!! ♡ These are short scenarios featuring their favorite characters being sappy and in love with the Reader ♡ Enjoy! ♡

Characters included: Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Jamil, Rook, Vil, Idia, Lilia

Leona Kingscholar

☆ For @midnightmah07, @meltedbluecaterpillar, @nicoliharu, @crystallizsch ☆

The botanical gardens was home to many plants, interesting and unique. Some were breathtaking, some were bizarre, drawing people in with their appearance and scent.

Napping in the gardens Leona has seen many, none of them getting his attention. Flowers, bushes, trees. None of them could compare to you, to your smile, to your eyes.

He cracks an eye open when he hears you enter, familiar with the sound of your footsteps. He'll go back to sleep later, after he admires the scenery for a bit. You always were his favorite sight ♡

Ruggie Bucchi

☆ For @midnightmah07, @nicoliharu ☆

Ruggie's a thief, and he'll take whatever he can get from you.

Your attention, your laughter, your smile. He wants it all, and all for himself. So he'll tease you, taking something small while you're unaware. It guarantees he can see you again, talking and laughing as he teases you once more.

It's only fair, after all. You already stole his heart. So let him steal yours too, alright? ♡

Jack Howl

☆ For @skriblee-ksk ☆

Comfort, safety, piece of mind. His feelings for you feel too much at times, wishing to take care of you however he can.

To protect you, and that smile he adores. He doesn't even notice at first how you do the same for him, looking out for him and caring for his safety.

He's supposed to protect you, yet here you are, protecting him in turn. He can't help but smile at the thought, knowing you had each other's backs. You can rely on him, just like he can rely on you. His amazing partner, his one and only. The only love for him ♡

Jamil Viper

☆ For @crystallizsch, @midnightmah07, @cheerleaderman, @0honeybones0 ☆

You don't need an excuse to dance, no party or music needed. Dancing comes naturally to you and Jamil, the motions, the laughter. The looks, the mutual smiles.

Your dance was cautious and slow at first, Jamil keeping his distance. Over time the dance changed, each of you moving closer, your hands joining together.

Your dance isn't perfect, filled with bumps and missteps. Yet, it was perfect for you, moving alongside Jamil with a laugh. He hopes this dance will never end ♡

Rook Hunt

☆ For @offorestsongs ☆

There were many beautiful things in the world, many that he's seen. None of them can compare to you, to the beauty that you have, to the love that you've shown him.

Watching from afar isn't enough, and photographs can only capture so much. Your personality, your heart, that voice that rings in his ears and drifts him to sleep. The eyes he dreams of, the smile he longs to wake up to.

He'll write you as many letters as it takes, as many poems, as many songs. Until you feel just as beautiful as he sees you, until you know just how loved and adored you are ♡

Vil Schoenheit

☆ For @offorestsongs, @ladyzsgolla ☆

We all have bad days, days that don't seem to go right and leave us feeling down. Vil understands, he experiences them too. Days he's unhappy with his appearance, with his acting, with the work that he's done. Feeling like it's not enough.

He gives you a space to relax, a space to breathe, alone in the comfort of his room. He takes the time to remove your makeup (if you wear it), drying your tears as he soothes you with his words.

He touches you gently, as if you were fragile, precious. Running his hand's through your hair, giving you something more comfortable to wear. He gets you to bed, holding you close in his arms.

You've done the same for him in the past, helping him remove his makeup, taking down his hair. The comfort you would provide him after a frustrating day meant so much to him, just like the hold you had on his heart. It's the least he could do, wanting you to know just how much he loves you. Just how much he cares ♡

Idia Shroud

☆ For @cheerleaderman (and myself lol ♡) ☆

Late night messages, gaming sessions, voice calls that last for hours. You were different than he expected, having similar interests and hobbies. He wasn't sure when the shift happened, when your friendship became so much more.

He doesn't want to call it love (he can't, there's no way), but he can't ignore what he feels either. The smile he gets when there's a new message from you, how his heart races when you remember a show he likes or a reference he made.

When did he start ordering merch from a game he doesn't play, knowing you would like it? When did he start buying snacks you like, hoping you'd stop by?

He won't say he's in love (he can't), but he might be... falling for you (even if it scares him to think about) ♡

Lilia Vanrouge

☆ For @ladyzsgolla ☆

The years pass by, yet Lilia remains, watching as people come and go. The days were too short, the months not long enough, Silver growing before him.

He watches his sons, teenagers now, making friends and considering their futures. It makes him think of his future, of the time he has left, how short the years seemed to be.

Then he met you, with your playful words and teasing banter. The surprise in your eyes as he appears in front of you, how your face lights up as you laugh at his mischief.

He feels younger, like a boy with a crush, his heart racing as he watches you fondly. How long has it been since he felt this way? He couldn't recall, moving the thought to the back of his mind.

For now, he wants to enjoy every moment he can with you. For however long time will allow ♡

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[grangerhater]

MINE, ALWAYS

pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

synopsis : they are rivals but once they are assigned roommates for a school trip they actually forget to argue about that, surprisingly accepting they have to share a bed.

warnings: rivals w sexual tension, eventual sexual content, (wanrning : plot before p0rn), piv, bj, f!ngering, one bed trope, everyone is above 18 obviously, possessiveness

smut, enemies to lovers, and some fluff if you squint

The Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station, and students excitedly disembarked, ready for their annual school trip. Among the bustling crowd, Draco Malfoy and Y/N Y/L/N found themselves eyeing each other warily. For years, they had been rivals, their rivalry filled with tension and sparks flying whenever they were in close proximity. This trip was no exception.

Fate had a funny way of working sometimes, and in this instance, it meant that Draco and Y/N found themselves assigned to share a room at the quaint inn where they would be staying. The room was cozy, with a single bed taking up most of the space. When they exchanged glances, they both felt a mixture of anticipation and unease at the thought of spending the trip in such close quarters.

After settling in, Draco decided to freshen up. He disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water echoing through the room. Y/N took this opportunity to unpack their belongings, trying to focus on the task at hand and ignore the butterflies fluttering in their stomach.

Minutes later, Draco emerged from the bathroom, his wet hair tousled and a towel wrapped securely around his waist. His silver eyes met Y/N's gaze, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. There was an undeniable hunger in his eyes, a longing that neither of them could deny. Y/N felt their heart racing, their body trembling with anticipation.

But just as quickly as the moment had arrived, it vanished, replaced with the familiar tension and bickering that had defined their relationship for so long.

"You're taking up all the space," Draco snapped, eyeing the scattered belongings on the bed.

"Well, maybe if you weren't hogging the bathroom for so long, I wouldn't have had to unpack here," Y/N countered, their voice laced with a mix of annoyance and amusement.

Draco rolled his eyes, his trademark smirk playing on his lips. "Always finding something to complain about, aren't you?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a smirk of their own forming. "Well, someone has to keep you in check, Malfoy."

As the trip continued, their bickering continued. Every interaction between them was laced with snarky comments and subtle jabs. But beneath the surface, there was an undeniable chemistry that neither of them could ignore. Every look or touch was charged with unspoken emotion, a tension between them that neither could deny. Even when they fought, there was a deep understanding of each other's feelings that kept them connected throughout the trip.

During a visit to a picturesque village, Draco and Y/N found themselves exploring together. The narrow streets were filled with the hustle and bustle of market vendors, but their focus was solely on each other. They wandered aimlessly, their banter providing a soundtrack to their journey. The tension between them seemed to grow with each passing moment, filling the air with an almost tangible electricity.

As they strolled along, they came across a small park, secluded and peaceful. Unable to resist the lure of the empty benches and serene atmosphere, they sat down, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them.

"You know," Y/N began, their voice softer than before, "I've always wondered why we seem to clash so much, other than the fact you are a spoiled little prick."

Draco's expression softened, curiosity evident in his eyes. "And what conclusion have you come to, Y/L/N?"

A small smile played on Y/N's lips. "I think it's because we bring out the best in each other, even if we don't always realize it.

Draco's gaze softened, his walls crumbling in the presence of Y/N's vulnerability. "Perhaps you're right. We've always pushed each other to be better, even if we've gone about it in the most antagonistic way possible."

Silence settled between them for a moment, the weight of their unspoken feelings hanging in the air. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, they reverted back to their familiar bickering.

"You're still as insufferable as ever, Malfoy," Y/N teased, their voice filled with fondness.

"And you're still as infuriating, Y/L/N," Draco shot back, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

But this time, the bickering was laced with something different. It held a hint of affection, a deeper connection that both Draco and Y/N were beginning to acknowledge.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the village, they made their way back to the inn. The room awaited them, the single bed serving as a constant reminder of the tension that had simmered between them all day.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, their gaze flickering between Draco and the bed. They took a deep breath, their usual shyness and insecurity being replaced by a newfound confidence. "I suppose we'll have to make do with the sleeping arrangements, won't we, Malfoy?"

Draco's eyes gleamed with a mixture of surprise and desire. "I suppose we will, Y/L/N. Still despise your face though, don’t be spreading around that i allowed you to share my bed."

Y/N smirked, rolling their eyes. "Of course, Malfoy. Wouldn't have it any other way."

And so, with a mix of tension, desire, and undeniable chemistry, Draco and Y/N climbed into the single bed, their rivalry and bickering fading into the background. In that moment, they found solace in each other's presence, their hunger finally acknowledged and their connection strengthening.

When only pure silence was heard right before they fell asleep Y/N heard a whisper yell from Malfoy’s side "You think you're so much better than me? You think you're so much smarter? You're just a nosy, stuck-up, know-it-all-Bimbo!"

"At least I'm actually smart enough to understand the concept of 'personal space!' You're just a spoiled, entitled brat who's never had to work for anything in your life!” she replied firmly yet half asleep

Draco's body tensed at Y/N's comment, their bickering reaching a boiling point. His hands wrapped around Y/N's wrists, roughly manhandling them and pulling them close.

"You're so stubborn!" Draco hissed, his breath hot against Y/N's ear. "Do you seriously think I won't do anything if you refuse to listen to me?"

Y/N glared back, struggling against Draco's grip, but unable to break free.

Draco's grip tightened around Y/N's wrists, a possessive glint in his eyes. He leaned inhis lips brushing against Y/N's neck as he whispered "You're mine, Y/N you belong to me" He trailed kisses down her neck, nipping at her skin as she moaned in pleasure

Draco's eyes narrowed as he watched Y/N struggle against him a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear as he whispered "You know you want this. You want me to take control, to make you mine" With a sudden movement Draco spun Y/N around, pressing her against the wall. His hands roamed over her bodypinning her wrists above her head as he claimed her lips in a rough, possessive kiss.

Y/N moaned into the kiss, her body responding to Draco's touch despite her angerHe pulled awaya wicked grin on his face as he leaned in to whisper in her ear once more.

"You're mine, Y/N. And I'll do whatever it takes to make you realize it" With thatDraco claimed Y/N's lips once more, their bodies moving together in a frenzy of desire as he asserted his dominance over her once more

Y/N's struggles ceased as Draco's touch sent shivers down her spine. She arched her backpressing herself closer to him, craving more of his touch. Draco's hands roamed over her body tracing every curve and dip, igniting a fire within her.

Their bickering forgotten, they gave into their desires their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. Draco's lips met Y/N's, his tongue exploring her mouth as she moaned in pleasure. He pushed her onto the bed, his hands roaming over her body as he stripped her of her clothes

Draco pushed Y/N against the wall, his lips crashing against hers in a fierce, possessive kiss. He gripped her hips tightly, grinding his hard cock against her thigh.

Y/N moaned into his mouth, her body responding to his touch despite her anger. Draco's hands roamed over her body, his fingers digging into her flesh as he claimed her as his own.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck as he bit and sucked at her skin, leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's body trembled with desire as Draco's hands roamed over her, his fingers finding their way between her legs.

He teased her, rubbing her clit with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her. As he fingered her, his other hand found its way to her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple until she cried out in pleasure.

He continued to finger her, his pace increasing as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Finally, he pulled his fingers out of her, turning her around and pushing her down onto her knees.

He unzipped his pants, pulling out his hard cock and thrusting it into her mouth. Y/N took him eagerly her mouth enveloping him as she worked him with her tongue Draco's hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back as he fucked her mouth with a fierce hunger.

He pulled out of her mouth pushing her back against the wall and lifting her legs up to wrap around his waist. He thrust into her with a fierce hunger, his body slamming against hers with each movement

Y/N cried out in pleasure, her body writhing against his as he took her closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. Draco's thrusts became more urgent and intense, his body trembling with desire as he neared his own peak.

As he continued to pound into her, his grip on her throat tightened leaving marks of his ownership all over her body. Y/N's nails dug into his back as he continued to thrust into her with a fierce hunger

Their bickering reached a boiling point, with Draco manhandling Y/N and claiming her as his own, he took control making her his in a rough, possessive kiss and teasing her with a fierce hunger before plunging his fingers deep inside her.

Finally, they reached their climax, their bodies writhing in ecstasy as they cried out each other's names. Draco asserted his dominance once more, reminding Y/N that she belonged to him.

Draco's grip on Y/N's body loosened as he pulled out of her, his chest heaving as he looked down at her. Y/N's eyes were closed, her body still trembling with pleasure.

Draco leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as he whispered, "You're mine, Y/N. Always" Y/N opened her eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"I know," she murmured, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. "I wouldn't want it any other way"

Draco helped Y/N to her feet, holding her close as they stood there, their bodies still intertwined. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, his hands trailing down her body as he whispered, "You're so beautiful, Y/N. I could never get enough of you"

Y/N blushed, leaning into him as she whispered back, "I feel the same way about you Draco. I love you"

Draco's eyes softened, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I love you too, Y/N. Always and forever”

They stood there for a few moments longer, their bodies entwined as they basked in the afterglow of their passion. Finally they pulled apart, their eyes meeting as they smiled at each other

Draco took Y/N's hand, leading her towards the bed. "Come on" he said, his voice low and husky. "Let's get some rest, we have a lot more exploring to do tomorrow"

Y/N smiled, following him to the bed as they settled in for the night, their bodies entwined as they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms

[bunny584]

A Girl with No Name

A/N: This one shot POURED out of me. All because of this incredible art by @chu-cho Thank you for creating this masterpiece. Hope I can do your art justice. 

Ok, let me set the scene. Euphoria, SKINS, and Degrassi procreated in the basement of Kappa Alpha. Keg to the right. A designer tray of substances to the left. The boys in the middle. And you…you crack the whi— what? Who said that? 

CW: Frat AU, implied substance use, mature 18+, MDNI

‘Ain’t a pill that I didn’t take’

Lyrics that feel too familiar tread water between Suguru’s ears. They glide along his skin. Which feels like silk, by the way. 

Silk.

Who ever made that is a Nobel laureate.  

‘Cause Imma sleep when I R.I.P.’ 

Euphoria. 

Who chose the lights?

They’re vivid. Swarming. Like the walls are a tile dance floor. Yeah. Light picker deserves a Nobel too.

“You are so fucked right now.” His best friend’s sharp ass voice dices his lucid thoughts to smithereens. 

“Shut up, Satoru.” He’s not wrong. 

“We took the same shit.” Suguru perches on the solo cup ridden kitchen island. Sitting is good. 

“Plus, I’m bigger than you.” 

“If you wanna compare dicks just say so.” Satoru sneers, he’s cockier when inebriated. 

In any other instance when Suguru is of sound mind, Satoru would’ve caught a jab to the chest. But two reasons why that can’t happen. 

One, he’s currently tripping balls. 

Two, you just walked in. 

Like you own the house. 

Maneuvering your body around the active pong table. Slipping past the chatty women gawking in their direction. Gearing for attack. Shifty and nervous, but the vodka cranberry is courage elixir. 

The boys have about 45 seconds to engage with said women or divert. 

But you are currently leaning over the counter reaching for a shot glass well out of your zip code. A little red dress on. All curves, no brakes. With an ass that could make anyone believe in God. 

Sorry, girls. Tonight, they are going to divert. 

Suguru catches Satoru’s heady gaze. No words needed. They share instincts. The boys have been in stride since the day they met. 

They saunter over to the counter you’re mounting. An easy reach for them both. 

“Didn’t realize your name was on the lease, princess.” 

Satoru plucks the double shot glass down from Mount Everest. Handing it over between two fingers. 

Still propped up on the counter with one knee, you peer down at them both. Letting the white noise of utter disinhibition drape the space between you. 

Suguru planned on softening Satoru’s blow, but then you smile. 

Cavalier and gorgeous.

Like it’s a golden ticket into spaces you don’t belong in. 

The answer to questions people don’t realize need asking. 

The cure for everything. 

And right now? It is. The cure.

Suguru stands stupefied as you brace yourself on his shoulders. Thank God his hands still know what to do. They snake around your tapered waist and pull you to solid ground. 

Speak, dumbass.

“You didn’t? It’s in the fine print.” Your voice beats him to it. And is fucking dessert. 

Bad for you. Horrible for you. But good in the way self-indulgence is.

You take your shot glass (really, anything in the house is yours if you want it). And steer away to the refrigerator.

Your absence jumpstarts Suguru’s out-of-commission brain. 

“Excuse him, he was raised by monkeys. Can I help you find something?” 

Suguru and Satoru reposition themselves behind you while you rummage. Bent over at the waist. Head nearly submerged in the pull out freezer. 

Are you doing this on purpose? 

Are you trying to be a cocktease? 

Satoru isn’t even attempting to stop eye-fucking you. 

Suguru pulls his tongue ring in and out of his teeth. Anything to stop ruminating on the melody of sounds that’ll fill the room when his hips slam into your ass repeatedly. 

“There it is,” you stand back to your full height. Triumphant. Jack Daniels in hand. 

Your eyes are pools of quicksand. Why else would Suguru’s mouth feel more stuck than his feet? 

“You’re a whiskey, kind of girl?” Satoru smirks, amused at your vice choice. 

Again, the boys follow your movements like two expertly trained German Shepards. Flanking you when you settle at the corner of the island. Meticulously over-pouring your first double shot. 

“I’m a good time kind of girl.” The way your slender neck tilts back is immoral. Throating the dark liquid like water.

…what else can that throat handle? 

“Okay, good time girl wh—“ 

“Listen.” You snip Satoru’s snide remark at its base. Leaving both of them silent. Watching. Waiting. 

“Brad,” you pointedly look at Suguru.

“And Chad,” eyes dagger into Satoru.

“Thank you for the warm welcome but I’m not interested in talking.” 

The back of your hand swipes against your full lips. And Suguru can’t seem to pull his eyes off of them.

Satoru, after a moment of stunned silence, lets out his laugh. The one that means you’ve won his undivided attention for the night. 

“Close, but no cigar baby. Try again.” Satoru leans onto his forearms. Tilting his intoxicated gaze up at you. 

“Right idea, though.” Suguru chimes in. Tongue finally deciding to work. 

“Ahh, I hear you loud and clear.” You retort, golden-ticket smile back on your face. 

Your nose wrinkles in feigned concentration and Suguru nearly passes out.

Are you really this hot? Or is he just that blasted? 

 “Preppy,” your hand cups Satoru’s face. And his Adam’s Apple bobs deeply. 

Good, Satoru is feeling this as hard as he is. 

“And Edgy.” Suguru gawks at the way your lips hang open after your snarky guess at his name leaves your mouth.

Satoru’s wolfish chuckle is what re-tethers Suguru to this dimension. How the fuck is he keeping up with you right now? 

“No, no. I got it.” You pipe up. 

Placing one hand over each of theirs. Suguru greedily intertwines his long fingers between your petite ones. 

“Thunder.” You squeeze Suguru’s hand and his soul nearly leaks out of his dick. 

“And Lightening.” 

Cotton candy dusts Satoru’s nose to his ears when you look up at him. Suguru can see the vulgar scenarios on cinematic repeat in his best friend’s mind.

And it’s tame compared to the ways Suguru wants to disrespect you. 

“We can work with that.” Suguru flashes a smile of his own. Purposefully keeping his tongue ring out of your view. 

“And what can we call you?” Satoru probes. Zeroed in because no one else in the room exists. 

Your hands return back to your side, and Suguru misses your warmth immediately. 

“No name.” 

Flippant. Lighthearted like what you said was normal. 

“What was that?” Satoru spurts out. Saliva bubbling in his half open mouth. 

You glide away from the kitchen. Into the den with bodies colliding. Walls thrumming. Lights strobing.

Delicate hands cup around your mouth. Turning back to face your new guard dogs. 

“Not here to talk, boys!” 

The three of you are interwined at the center of the crowded room in seconds. 

But time is warped.

Because Suguru is traversing Death Zone altitude on the mountain. And Satoru is swimming at Abyssal Zone depth in the ocean. 

You are the 8th cardinal sin. 

You writhe and undulate your curves in and out of their grasp. Gripping onto Satoru’s neck, strumming his undercut when he’s facing you. Winding your hips against Suguru’s crotch when he’s behind you. 

Suguru’s cock has never been this hard, he’s half worried it could snap in half. Hissing against your neck. Groaning behind your ear. So goddamn grateful for the music drowning out his desperation. 

But his skin is on fire. He can feel every vessel pulsate.

You are not a want. 

You are a need. 

“Need you.” Suguru gruffs in your ear. Flickering up to Satoru, who is mirroring his hooded gaze. 

Suguru watches your pretty hand trail down Satoru’s chest. Satoru rolls his bottom lip under his teeth. Apt nickname you chose for him, because there are lightening bolts in his eyes. 

“Take me upstairs,” you whisper back, tilting up to capture Suguru in your web. 

And he is so captured. So entangled. 

The boys lead you to Suguru’s bedroom in the frat house. Even though the walk felt like miles, exactly no time passes when you three close the door behind you.

Suguru’s lips magnet to yours. Insatiable in the way he sucks and pulls on your lips. Tongue tasting every corner of your sweet mouth. 

Satoru drops his head to the crook of your neck. Sucking bruises. Tracing his large grasp up and underneath your dress. No time or room for manners with how his cock is tenting against its weak restraints.

“So eager, boys.” You giggle in between their hungry kisses. 

And you’re right. 

It’s embarrassing, their display right now. 

But neither one of them have the capacity to stop. 

And hold it together. 

And lead. Like they both are used to. 

“Sorry,” Satoru grunts into the feminine slope of your neck. You let out an airy laugh when he starts to dry hump you. Tickling both of their incapable brains. 

You know Satoru is so far gone. 

And Suguru is trying to hold on to some semblance of dignity but his cock simply won’t let him. Not the way it’s drenching his sweats with need. 

“Take these off.” Melodic instructions fill Satoru and Suguru’s ears the minute you pull away from Suguru’s kiss. Your index finger hooked on both hems. 

As if your voice is a Pavlovian trigger, the boys step out of their pants and boxers. 

Rock hard. Desperate. Leaking. 

Your personal drones. 

Suguru can’t swallow the whimper that collides with Satoru’s whine when your hands drop to stroke both of them at the same time. Flickering your eyes between your two toys. Proud of the way their cocks are twitching and pumping beads of precum into your hands.

“God, pretty girl.”

“Fuck, princess.”

Satoru and Suguru are dizzy with heat. 

Just in time for you to drop to your knees. Dragging your closed, lipsticked lips along Suguru’s up curve.

“Please,” Suguru whispers.

You’re evil. 

And you ignore him. Dragging your soft, warm hand up the length of his shaft. Interjecting butterfly kisses in between. Working Satoru’s length in your other hand. Drawing punched out moans from the boys. Chests heaving. Clipped breaths. Pitiful. 

“On your knees, Lightning.” You beckon Satoru, while teasing his counterpart. 

Satoru doesn’t hesitate for a second. He couldn’t if he wanted to. Propped on his knees, he stares into the side of your face. Awaiting further instruction. 

“Kiss me,” you demand, circling your lips around Suguru’s sensitive tip for the first time. Evoking a loud hiss. 

Satoru’s eyes widen. Your words startle the breath out of him. 

The lights are dim but Suguru doesn’t miss the blossoming cherry red flush. Spreading along his toned shoulders.

Your wet lips dragging along his swollen cockhead pulls Suguru’s eyes away from his celestial best friend. 

“Mmmgh f..fuck baby,” Suguru chokes out at your slow, mean ministrations. 

“Don’t be shy, Lightening.” Your tongue tickles his lead pipe with every spoken word around his girth. 

Suguru’s eyes fall to your hand. Now working its way up Satoru’s length. His core involuntarily curls into your sudden touch. Gossamer thin whine tumbling out of his lips. Suguru catches the way Satoru digs his fingernails into his milky skin. 

And his cock twitches against your lips at the sight. 

“Kiss me,” You beckon Satoru again, dragging your tongue up Suguru’s length. 

“I—I…“ Satoru stammers. Hips stuttering against your fist. Static fills Suguru’s head. 

He’s never seen him this docile. This pliant. It’s a mind fuck. 

No, no. 

The way Satoru pulls his eyes up to meet his gaze in that moment is a mind fuck. 

Is he hallucinating?

It’s like Suguru is seeing Satoru for the first time. 

Instead of being side by side, he’s across the street. Catching a glimpse of a God. Walking amongst men. 

Satoru’s expression has earned permanence in his brain. Snowy halo of hair. Long, palatial lashes fanning the Aegean Sea in his eyes. A mosaic of lust, desire, a little shame. 

Seeking permission.

Seeking approval. 

He is otherworldly. 

Vulnerable and soft. On his knees. Needy. It makes Suguru want to ram his cock past those pouty, swollen lips. 

But..but that’s wrong. Right? 

They’re best friends. Fucking soulmates. They don’t..they don’t do that. 

But the way he’s pouting.

God. 

Glassy eyed and helplessly turned on. Rutting his hips into your hand. 

Fuck. 

“Fuck,” Suguru mutters. A surge of his arousal landing on your tongue. Eliciting a breathy giggle in response. 

Followed by an out of body experience for the next few minutes. 

Suguru’s hand wires into Satoru’s cloud soft locks. Gentle grasp between the slender webspaces. 

“So pretty.” He rasps through the nails in his throat. 

Satoru’s pupils blow out at the praise. All but purring into his touch. Suguru barely applies any force and Satoru crashes his lips onto yours with Suguru’s thick head in between. 

Filthy. 

Nasty dirty vulgar sounds fill the room. Suguru’s constant stream of precum dripping onto your tongue, Satoru’s tongue. Raining down on your puffy, full tits.

You two exploring each other’s lips. 

Satoru’s angry length, squelching against your hand. 

It’s too much. It’s too fucking much. 

“Such a good boy.” 

Your dulcet voice is a tornado decimating Suguru’s brain. He has to blink a few times to realize that the praise wasn’t meant for him. 

It was directed at Satoru. 

Who is desperately — eagerly — throating Suguru’s dick. Nose flaring. Diamond tears rolling down his blushing cheeks. Unintelligible garbles dribbling out the corners of his mouth. 

“Sa—Satoru, mmgh, god shit, shit.” Suguru’s hips take a cruel pace down his Person’s throat. 

“Mmm, Satoru.” You murmur into his ear. Tasting your new discovery. 

“Look how much Thunder likes fucking that mouth of yours.” 

Satoru’s tears splash against Suguru’s sex. But he opens his throat anyway. Swallowing his rod. Filthy bulge in the column of his throat. 

“Ahh, god..baby..” Suguru huffs when your devilish little hands tug at a palm full of his hair. 

When did you get next to him?

Doesn’t matter. 

Yet another natural disaster destroys Suguru’s brain when you push your tongue back into his mouth. While he violates Satoru’s mouth. 

The wire in Suguru’s stomach coils. Lava surges through every vessel in his body. Groin welling with a deep, carnal pressure. Everything feels too fucking good.

“Fuck, oh god fuck. I’m I—g—“

“Cum for me, baby.” 

You kiss your hushed command into Suguru’s mouth. His hips come to a screeching halt. Both hands down in Satoru’s hair, grazing along his undercut. 

Suguru tilts his chin to the ceiling. Thick loose mane tickling his mid back. Vision completely dark. He has no idea if he’s still in Satoru’s mouth. Or where his cum is landing. All he knows is death by pleasure right now.

You press your moist lips into Suguru’s neck.  

“You’re so beautiful like this.” Sweet words reverberate against Suguru’s skin. 

His head slowly comes back to earth. And just as his eyes pull back open — a shudder and blinding light assaults his vision. Up close. 

“Woah, what the hell?” 

Suguru is met with a Polaroid camera. Printing evidence of his nirvana. His brows crawl together defensively.

“What do you—“

“Relax, thunder.” You coo with that smile that’s decadent, beautiful poison. 

You step over a dazed Satoru. Still on his knees. Lazily stroking up his neglected hard cock. 

Suguru’s eyes track you to his bed. You place the developing film on the nightstand. 

“These are for your eyes only.” 

“I don’t mind.” Satoru huffs. Rising to his feet. Deep within your trance. You could’ve asked him to cut off an arm and he’d offer you both. 

Satoru would follow you into Hell if you demanded it. 

Suguru would too. 

“Boys, come.” You curl your finger at them. And pairs of feet move. 

“Thunder, why don’t you put that tongue ring to good use. While I take care of pretty little Satoru.” 

His name on your lips snaps something buried in his soul. Satoru steps to the head of the bed. Leaning against the wall. Cock heavy with his seed. A string of arousal hanging low from his tip. 

You make a dramatic show to catch Satoru’s leaking string of cum before it wastes on Suguru’s sheets. 

“You’re fucking filthy, princess.” Satoru hisses. He can’t remember the last time he’s blinked the whole night. 

You smile around his bulbous tip, then pull him into your warm heat in one go. 

And fuck, Satoru can feel you sucking through to his throat. 

His whimpers sound so pathetic in his ears. But he is so lust-drunk he couldn’t care less. 

One look down and he sees his best friend whining underneath your precious cunt. As you circle your hips around Suguru’s metal-clad tongue. Taking your pleasure directly from his mouth. 

Suguru’s half hard sex pulsates against his perfectly toned abs. Satoru has to look away. His orgasm threatening to come too soon. 

“Mmmnggh, so good with your tongue, Thunder.” You gurgle around Satoru’s length. 

Arousal flavored saliva driveling down your chin. The sensation drives Satoru to piston his hips until his tip abuses the limit of your dainty throat. 

You shouldn’t have any space to breathe, much less talk. 

“Pl-please. Suguru. Name’s Suguru.” 

“Say his name baby.” Satoru’s order is low. Raptorial. Hips bucking wildly into your mouth. Heat crashing into his groin. 

He’s so close. He’s—

“S-Suguru.”

And Satoru dives off your cliff edge. Hearing his Person’s name tumble out of your mouth and around his cock snapped his self-control in half. 

Ropes off thick, warm heat spill out the side of your mouth. Staining your bunched up dress, the sheets and everything in between. 

“S-so close,” you huff, humping Suguru’s tongue more aggressively. 

A familiar camera shudder and solar bright light fans your outstretched neck. Capturing your cum-stained ascension. 

You flash Satoru a knowing smirk. Another beam of light aimed in his face before he tosses your camera off to the side. 

Satoru crashes his lips into yours. Eager to taste himself off your mouth. 

Your bodies move in perfect tandem. Satoru kisses your peak from your lips while Suguru coaxes your wet orgasm onto his tongue. Your high drenches Suguru and the sheets around him. 

The three of you piece yourselves together. Completely plaited within each other’s warm, moist limbs. Basking in the serotonin showers misting you three in post-coital bliss. 

No one remembers, but you wish each other sweet dreams before the fog settles. And the night re-claims you to sleep. 

                                     ——

Sunlight is downright offensive. 

Suguru forces his heavy lids open.

7: 43 AM

Fucking, hell. 

A freight train is currently doing laps in Suguru’s mind. He flickers around the room. Haphazard clothes. Strewn socks. Satoru in Suguru’s 06 hockey jersey. Long limbs nearly dangling off the other side of his bed. 

Suguru glances down, somehow dressed only in Satoru’s black sweats

There’s a tiny sliver of space between their sodden bodies. Where you must’ve slept. 

Right.

You. 

Heaven’s fallen angel. 

You used to be God’s favorite. No way you still are.

Not with how fucking sinful you looked in that red dress. 

Snapping polaroids.

Taking their souls for play. 

Then having the audacity to leave them on the nightstand when you were through.

Suguru met The Devil last night. 

And she was…exquisite. 

“Fuck, my head.” Satoru groans, rolling over to face his dark-haired soulmate.

Suguru watches his eyes flutter open. And something within him catches. 

How has he not noticed how beautiful this boy is before?

“Here,” A glass of ice water, still sweating from condensation is waiting on Suguru’s nightstand. He takes a long sip before passing the lifeblood to Satoru. 

Satoru briefly meets Suguru’s gaze. Before averting, pretty mulberry blush flooding his face. 

“Was last night…real?” Satoru asks after an extended sip. 

Suguru meets his question with silence. Preoccupied with picture proof. 

Three polaroids neatly arranged on the nightstand. 

The first one is of Suguru. Hair moused, framing his intoxicated gaze. Remnants of his orgasm oozing from the still shot. Lips puffy and abused. Cheeks flushed. Suguru can barely recognize the man in the photo. 

His eyes dance to the cursive label at the bottom:

Thunder 

Alias: “Suguru”

A wry chuckle escapes his lips. He passes his photo to Satoru. 

The next polaroid is of his Person. Post orgasm haze heavy in his eyes. He managed to get his 10,000-kilowatt smile perfectly in the selfie. Also flushed. Also completely debauched. The blue in his eyes reflected nearly translucent. 

He’s a fucking masterpiece, that boy. 

Suguru knows what to expect at the bottom of Satoru’s polaroid:

Lightening

Alias: “Satoru”

“Shit man, these are amazing.” Satoru murmurs, intently studying Suguru’s polaroid. Absentmindedly accepting his.

“They are.” Suguru agrees, unknowingly holding his breath while pulling your polaroid into view. 

And of course.

It’s blurry. 

The only thing in focus is your graceful, arched neck, specks of Satoru’s finish glistening on your skin. Merlot red dress, pulled far below your breasts. Only thing pictured is the apex of your cleavage. Leaving Suguru’s mind to spiral into lucid memory of the rest of your silhouette. 

“Who…was that?” Satoru muses. Eyes now on the ceiling. Undoubtedly having the exact same swarm of flashbacks flood his mind. 

Suguru rolls your Polaroid between his index and long finger. The bottom of the photo reading:

No Name

A lazy smile tugs on the corner of his lips.

You are something else. 

Supernatural, almost.

“She’s a girl with no name.” 

[lovebugism]

“don’t you dare touch him” eddie x shy!reader

idk i need a situation where reader never really speaks up but she finally does when it comes to eddie because she loves him sm😭

thanks so much for your request! hope you like it!! — the one where eddie melts when his quiet gf sticks up for him in front of jason (shy!reader, fluff, 2.4k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

The drive from Forest Hills to the arcade is spent with Lucas and Dustin bickering in the backseat and Eddie’s hand on your thigh.

“It’s been two years, and you still can’t beat my high score, Dusty Bun,” the former boy taunts. The nickname spills like venom from his smiling face. “Just give it up, okay? It’s not happening.”

Dustin grins back at him. It’s more so mischievous than it is taunting. His deep blue eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “You are so gonna be eating your words by the end of the night. When we leave, Princess Daphne is gonna be mine, alright? For good.”

Their arguing becomes background noise. With your cheek lolled against the hand you’ve got propped against the window, you’re pulled into the wispy lilac cloud your gaze is so heavily fixated upon. The sky billows lavender against a sea of pink and golden orange — a summer sunset so vivid you can taste it.

The only thing keeping you grounded is Eddie’s palm on your knee, wide and warm and all-consuming. His thumb rubs against your skin so softly you think it must be absentminded. It feels like static shock, anyway. He laughs quietly to himself, and his fingers tremble gently against you. This time they squeeze you with a newfound intention as he brings you back to him.

“What do you think, babe?” Eddie asks, pink mouth spread in a pearly white grin. His chocolate eyes glimmer with the golden hour sun as his gaze flits between yours and the road. “Think Dusty Bun has a chance here?”

You nod, scrunched nose and squinted eyes, silent in your support for the curly-headed boy who’s still yelling over Lucas in the back of the van.

“What about me?” he presses. And because he knows better than to give his quiet girl anything other than a yes or no answer, he follows quickly, “You think today’s the day I finally beat your Space Invaders high score?”

A beat passes. The momentary silence is filled with arguing boys, old tires on older asphalt, and Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” spilling softly from the radio. A quiet smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You purse the mischievous expression to the side as you turn away from him again.

Your non-answer makes him laugh. It sounds exactly like the colors of the sunset.

His beat-up van jerks when he puts it into park. The door on the side squeaks as the kids file out of it. Eddie’s does too, but you can’t hear it over him telling you to “sit tight.” 

You wait patiently in the passenger seat like you always do, smiling to yourself as the boy rushes around the hood to open the door for you. The hinges screech in protest. His wild curls billow in the wind as he smiles. “C’mon, sunshine. Our palace awaits.”

The group of you stand beneath the spinning neon sign he parked next to — glowing orange and white beneath a setting sun. Someone calls from across the parking lot, “Well, well, well. Look who it is.”

Your heads snap in the direction of the painfully familiar voice. 

Jason and the rest of his abnormally tall goons stand outside the new gym that just opened on the strip. The dark, vacant building wedged between The Palace and Family Video was no longer as scary as it used to be now that it was occupied. You were just hoping it’d be something more exciting. Forcing arcade nerds and gym bros into one spot feels like a crime.

“And they brought little miss wallflower, too,” Jason lilts with his pretty smile and straight teeth. His blonde hair is a darker shade of brown, damp with half-dried sweat. His lean form is unnaturally built underneath his white tank top and basketball shorts. 

It isn’t any wonder why he turned out to be such a raging douchebag. 

Someone so perfect needed at least one flaw.

“The gang’s all here, huh?” one of his other friends — Andy, you think — concurs from behind him, always in the boy’s shadow.

“Like what you see, fellas?” Eddie calls out from across the slab of pavement separating the group of you. He’ll never turn down an opportunity to take the piss out of the so-called jocks, all muscle and no brain. 

“What do we do when those assholes give us hell?” he’d often ask when you’ve had a particularly shitty day with them. “We give ‘em hell right back.”

Jason’s thin lips curl into a more mischievous smirk. His blue eyes are lighter in the golden sunlight, and they twinkle beneath the neon signs as he looks you up and down. “Yeah, actually,” he hums with his unabashed ogling. “I do.”

Mike’s lanky legs sidestep to stand ahead of you. He does it so swiftly, so instinctually, you don’t think he even really meant to do it. Despite the raven-haired boy halfway covering you, you cross your arms over your torso in a further attempt to keep yourself hidden. 

You feel so suddenly exposed in your frilly floral sundress — especially considering the only thing you wear to school is baggy jeans and baggier sweaters. You feel like you might as well be naked standing in front of them just now.

The younger boys stand on high alert as Eddie walks the short distance to Jason. The brief journey is made quicker when the blonde boy strides to meet him halfway. It’s a high school sort of standoff — neither particularly wanting to get physical because the real-life repercussions aren’t worth it. They just want to see who can piss each other off the most.

“She is pretty, isn’t she?” Eddie concedes with a grin, flashing you a brief glance over his shoulder. He turns away quickly at the sight of your wide, pleading eyes. He scrunches his nose in feigned sympathy. “I bet you’re real jealous, huh? Especially now that you’ve got nothing but your right hand keeping you company ever since Chrissy dumped your ass.”

“Watch it,” Jason warns through gritted teeth.

“I think I saw her riding around last week with Harrington, actually.”

The blonde boy’s sneakers scuff against the concrete as he takes a daring step closer. His piercing stare never wavers. “Don’t talk about Chrissy.”

“Don’t talk about my girl, and I won’t talk about yours,” Eddie retorts in lilt. And then, because he can’t help but twist the knife, he tilts his head to his shoulder and continues. “Well, I guess she’s not really yours anymore, is she?”

“I said don’t talk about Chrissy!” Jason repeats, louder than before, when he lets his anger get the best of him. One hand shoots up to shove at Eddie’s chest, using only enough force to make the boy stumble slightly back. 

While Dustin, Lucas, and Mike gear up for a fight, Eddie only laughs in response — big, boisterous, and boyish.

You don’t even realize you’re stepping in front of the group until you’re already doing it. The words seem to fly from your mouth without you even thinking about them. “Don’t touch him!” you shout. 

And even though it wasn’t particularly loud, it quiets in the mindless bickering all at once. Everyone turns to gape at you — Jason, Andy, Dustin, Eddie. Everyone is equally surprised by your outburst. Because you don’t speak. Ever. At least, not if you can help it. 

And it’s not because you don’t have anything to say, because you do. It’s just that your brain works too much, and your mouth can’t keep up with it sometimes. It’s easier just to be silent.

That’s what you’ve been known for ever since you were little. You went through all of it — the bullying, the sad eyes, the talks with teachers, the ‘is everything alright at home’s. Everything was fine, for the most part. Your childhood was equally as middling as everyone else’s. You just had a harder time being human than most people.

Jason smiles again, amused by your warning. “What was that, sweetheart?”

You swallow through a tightening throat. Your sweaty hands clench into balls at your sides. The words come out quieter than before, but no less meaningful. “I said… Don’t touch him.”

“Oh, so she does speak. Here I thought no one ever taught you how to,” the blonde boy laughs. You feel disgusting when his attention settles solely upon you. The lingering sick feeling is eclipsed by your gratitude that Eddie’s no longer in his line of fire. “I’m gonna be honest… I thought you were cuter when you were quiet.”

You don’t know what he means by that. You can’t tell if he’s being genuine, or if he thinks you care enough about what he thinks to slink back into your shell.

“Leave Eddie alone,” you retort drily.

He snorts. “Yeah? Or what?”

There’s a thousand words you want to say. You open your mouth to spit all of them at the boy across from you, but nothing comes out.

“Yeah,” Jason laughs at your silence. “That’s what I thought.”

You stand your ground when he walks towards you. His strides are slow and menacing, like he’s expecting you to back away. You might’ve if you were anywhere else — if Eddie wasn’t a couple feet away and the rest of your friends weren’t crowding behind you. You’re made somehow braver by their presence.

“This is a really cute dress, though, sweetheart,” the blonde boy compliments with a thin smirk. “You should dress like this more often. You know what? You’d really fit in at the strip club downtown— what’s it called?”

“Pink Paradise,” Andy answers without missing a beat.

Jason smacks his lips against his teeth. “That’s the one.”

“Is that the one your mom works at?” you wonder with your arms crossed over your chest. Your head tilts to your shoulder as you squint at him. “Is she still giving those two-for-one discounts?” 

Jason’s confidence stutters at your biting reply — even more so by the choked-back laughter accompanying it. Your boys don’t bother to hide their humored giggles, though the basketball team covers theirs by coughing into their fists.

“Ooh. I didn’t know you had such a much on you,” the blonde lilts as his blue eyes narrow. “I’m like… fifty percent more attracted to you now.”

“Leave Eddie alone,” you deadpan once more. “And go be a douchebag somewhere else.”

One of his friends breaks free from the pack. He’s tall, thin, and toned. He’s got the same haircut as Lucas: compact curls, squared off on the sides. You know him — Patrick McKinney. He’s the only one of Jason’s friends that was actually nice to you. Or, at the very least, he wasn’t a total asshole.

“Let’s go, man,” the boy ushers, nudging at Jason’s bicep. “Let’s go shoot some hoops or something. This isn’t worth it.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Oh, please— the only shooting Jason Carver does is into a kleenex. It’s why you were benched all last season.”

“I twisted my ankle!” the blonde boy defends, sounding weak and pathetic beneath the chorus of laughter as Patrick drags him away.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you mutter, perhaps too quiet for him to hear, as Lucas pulls at your forearm to guide you in the other direction. His touch is still gentle — it would be uncharacteristic of him to be rough with you. It would also be a terrible idea with Eddie just a few paces behind the both of you.

The walk to The Palace is a silent one. There’s too much to say, and everyone’s just a little too amazed to say it. Eddie, however, never had a hard time killing a quiet. He rushes on long legs to match your quick strides, reaching you rather easily. 

“Hey, hey, hey— you okay, babe?” the worried boy wonders. He takes a gentle hold of your wrists when you reach the awning beneath the arcade. His chocolate gaze flits attentively over your form, nowhere near as leering as Jason had been. 

He can tell by your heaving chest and glassy eyes that you’re a little overwhelmed. When he takes your face in his hands, he finds that your cheeks are burning, too.

You nod into his warm palms in silent reply, back in the comfort of your shell all over again.

“What’d you do that for, huh?” Eddie singsongs with a quiet laugh. His thumb dances over your cheekbones as he grins at you. “You know I don’t like you getting involved with those assholes.”

“They don’t get to talk to you like that… Or put their hands on you,” you mutter. Despite your soft tone, Eddie can see the fury flashing in your eyes, getting angry about it all over again.

His smile widens — proud and hopelessly in love with you. “No. They don’t. Especially not with my girl around, huh?”

“Nope,” you murmur, popping the p. A sheepish grin pulls at your mouth, equally as proud and in love.

Eddie leans down to kiss you, guiding your mouth to his with the hands cupping your jaw. It’s innocuously chaste, being that you’re still standing in a public parking lot. You could never quite stomach the attention of PDA, anyway. His pink lips lock with yours in a fleeting peck, and his arms wrap around you a second later.

He smothers you into his chest, and you revel in every second of it. He smells like cigarette smoke and the cologne he tried to cover it up with. He smells like a home you could live in forever. 

You smile into the thrifted Blondie tee you got him — which he happily accepted because he loves you (even though he hates Blondie). He presses a kiss into your hair and smushes his nose into the crown of it as he laughs.

“‘Is that the one your mom works at?’” Eddie repeats with a soft chuckle, chest swelling with pride once more. “God, babe. That’s good.”

“Shut up…” you murmur.

“I’m serious! I didn’t know you were such a good smack-talker! I think you might be a genius, actually.”

“Don’t,” you grouse with a lighthearted scowl. You pull away from him only slightly — enough for him to put your face back in his hands again. You feel safest there, even if you are pouting up at him.

“You’re so cute,” the boy muses with a beam. His eyes glimmer like a sea of chocolate syrup, melting with all the love he has for you. “You’re like a cinnamon roll. A cinnamon roll that could bite people.”

“That’s exactly what I am,” you monotone and try your best not to smile.

Eddie couldn’t hide his grin if he tried. “And that’s exactly why I love you.”

[dovesdreaming]

The softening edge

Summary: Readers love language is touch and Theo usually loves it until someone (ahem Draco who else) makes fun of Theo for it. He ends up pushing you away until he realised how much of an idiot he’s been.

Request

Masterlist

Warnings: none

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Theodore Nott was used to being alone. He preferred it that way. It was simpler, quieter and free from the complications of messy emotions. But you, you had waltzed into his life with your bright smile and warm touches, wrapping him in a blanket of affection he didn’t know how to handle. At first, he had been wary, guarded, and unsure of what you wanted from him. But your persistence wore down his defenses, slowly, like the ocean smoothing out rough stones on the shore. And before he knew it, he found himself looking forward to the sound of your laughter, the light touches on his arm, and the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you smiled at him.

Today was no different. You met him in the common room, practically bouncing with energy, and immediately reached out to fix the collar of his shirt. He caught a whiff of your familiar perfume as you stood close, and something in his chest warmed, something he hadn’t felt in years. "You're always so put together, Theo” you teased, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle. “But even perfection needs a little touch-up”. He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his lips tugged upward despite himself. “And that’s what you’re here for, I suppose?” “Obviously.” You grinned up at him, pleased with your handiwork. You reached up, gently combing your fingers through his hair to push it in the right direction that he liked and his breath hitched. It was so natural to you for you to touch him like this, but for him, it was foreign. Bewildering and addicting all at once.

Draco Malfoy watched from across the common room, a smirk playing on his lips. "Nott, you're getting soft” he sneered, his face filled with amusement. The other boys chuckled, and Theodore felt a prickle of irritation. He met Draco’s gaze, his expression hardening, but the damage was done. The words burrowed under his skin like thorns. Was he really becoming soft? Was he losing the edge that kept him safe, that kept people at a distance? He didn’t respond to Draco’s comment, but it echoed in his mind long after you’d said goodbye and headed off to your next class. The rest of the day, he was on edge, thinking about what Draco had said and how the others had laughed.

Later that evening, you found him again, this time in the library. You came up behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder as you read over his notes. “You work too hard, you know that?” you murmured, your voice soft in his ear. “You need to relax sometimes”. His entire body stiffened at your touch, Draco's words gnawing at him like a relentless parasite. He clenched his jaw, trying to suppress the irritation that was bubbling up inside him. You didn’t notice, still speaking in that gentle, affectionate tone that usually calmed him. But now, it felt suffocating.

“Stop” he snapped, his voice harsher than he intended. He shrugged you off, causing you to stumble back a step. You blinked, hurt flashing across your face. “Theo..” He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I said stop. You’re always hovering, always- just, give me some space”. Your eyes widened, the warmth in them rapidly cooling into confusion and pain. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise..” “Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t be so clingy” he bit out, his words sharp enough to wound. He regretted them the moment they left his mouth, but it was too late.

You took a step back, as if physically recoiling from his words. The light in your eyes dimmed, replaced by something hollow. “I’ll..I’ll leave you alone, then”. Your voice was barely a whisper as you turned and walked away. Theodore stood there, rooted to the spot, watching you go. The library felt colder, emptier without you in it. He wanted to call out, to take back everything he’d just said, but his pride held his tongue. Instead, he sat back down, glaring at the parchment in front of him that suddenly seemed meaningless.

The next few days were unbearable. You avoided him, no longer seeking him out between classes or sitting beside him in the common room. Your absence was like a black hole, pulling at him, making everything seem dull and lifeless. He caught glimpses of you, always at a distance, your once bright demeanor now subdued. He missed your voice, your touch, the way you made everything feel less bleak. He missed you more than he thought possible. It was during one particularly lonely evening in the common room that he realized what a fool he had been. You had only ever been kind to him, offering warmth and light in a life that had been cold and dark for so long. And he had thrown it all away because he was too afraid of what it meant to care for someone. Draco's words echoed in his mind again, but this time, they brought clarity instead of confusion. He wasn’t getting soft. He was learning to let someone in, and that was the hardest, bravest thing he had ever done.

He had to make it right. The next day, he found you sitting by the lake, staring out at the water. He approached slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. When you noticed him, you didn’t smile; you didn’t even look surprised. You just watched him with those sad, tired eyes that made him feel like the worst kind of villain. He sat down beside you, close but not touching. The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable. “I’m sorry” he finally said, his voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t mean what I said. I… I was an idiot”.

You didn’t respond at first, and he felt panic rising in his chest. What if he had ruined everything beyond repair? But then you spoke, your voice quiet and distant. “Why did you say it, Theo? What changed?”. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “You heard what Draco said. That you were making me weak You looked at him, really looked at him, and he felt exposed under your gaze. “Do you really believe that?” Your eyebrows creased upwards, eyes laced with a mix of emotions.

“No” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it scared me. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be strong, to be… untouchable. Letting someone in- it felt like losing control”. “And now?” you asked, your eyes searching his. “Now I realize that being with you.. it doesn’t make me weak. It makes me feel alive” He took a deep breath, his heart pounding. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I don’t want to push you away. I want… I want you. I need you”. His shoulders were tensed upwards trying to gage your reaction, his eyes revealing how desperate he seemed for your forgiveness.

You watched him for a long moment, the tension between you thick and suffocating. Then, slowly, you reached out and took his hand. “You really hurt me, Theo” you said, your voice soft but firm. “But.. I believe you’re sorry. Just don’t do it again, okay? If you need space, talk to me. Don’t shut me out”. “I won’t” he promised immediately agreeing to your terms while squeezing your hand. “I’ll do better. I swear”. You nodded, a small smile finally breaking through the sadness on your face. “Good. Because I like you, Theodore Nott, and I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily”.

He felt a wave of relief wash over him, and for the first time in days, he allowed himself to smile. You allowed yourself to finally resort back your own nature of touch and leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. Maybe Draco was right. Maybe he was getting soft. But if this was what it felt like to be soft, then Theodore Nott was more than willing to lose that battle.

-

Thank you for reading! Please send requests for him <3

[abswhore]

Just a friend.

Summary: You both had agreed to see each other as just friends, but your feelings developed into something deeper.

Pairing: college!fwb!abby Anderson x reader

A/N: hello thank you for taking time to read ! , this is my first post I’m really excited so please give me feedback, also like and comment! They is just a test run sort of thing to see how it goes it’ll be maybe 3 parts to this !

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“I’ll be fine here, go!” You assumed Dina and Nora as you stood at the bar, they had dragged you out of your dorm for a night out but you wasn’t quite feeling it tonight.

You watched as your friends made their way through the pool of people, smiling at them as they danced with each other. You sipped on your drink as you watch not bothering to join them.

A voice from beside you caught your attention, prompting you to look over. And There stood Abby Anderson, the university's star soccer player. "You don’t dance?" she asked.

“No, I’m a horrible dancer.” When you turned to her, you noticed she was leaning in closer, allowing you to take in every detail of her face. She was captivating.

"I'm Abby," she said as she introduced herself. You chuckled softly and nodded, replying, "I know.”

"You know me, but I don't think I know you," she remarked, leaving you wishing you hadn't mentioned that you were familiar with her. "Just joking," she added.

“ I hope I didn’t come off as a stalker I think we share friends.” You added “im y/n.”

"I'm not opposed to having a stalker, especially if they look you," she said, her tone playful and soft. You could feel your cheeks burning as you went quiet, letting the loud music fill the space around you.

Abby sensed the sudden quietness and quickly found a way to redirect the conversation. “So these mutual friends with share, who are they?”

You mentioned the names of several people, and she instantly recognized the group when you said the first name, Ellie Williams.

“Why don't you ever come us when we hang out?" she asked, sipping her drink while keeping her gaze fixed on you.

"I'm usually tied up with work or school," you replied.

"That's too bad; I'd love to see you more often," she teased. "How about we study together sometime?"

"What do you think?" she asked, her voice dipping into a flirtatious tone as your eyes locked. You nodded in response.

"That sounds great," you murmured, just loud enough for her to catch over the booming music, your gaze drifting to her lips.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Abby pushed you against the icy metal of the car door, and as your lips moved perfectly in sync with hers, you realized you had left Dina and Nora behind without a word. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess; one moment you were exchanging flirtatious glances with Abby, and the next, she was pulling you out of the club, almost dragging you along.

The drive to Abby's, which should have taken just ten minutes, seemed to stretch on endlessly as you exchanged messy kisses at every red light. When you finally reached her apartment complex, you both rushed to get inside. You pressed kisses along her neck while she clumsily fumbled with her keys, eager to let you into her home.

You moaned, "Where's your room?" as she finally opened the door, nudging you inside and pressing her hips against your back.

"no room, I wanna fuck you right here on this counter." She murmured in your ear while her hands moved around you, quickly unbuttoning your jeans pulling them down from behind as she moved towards the counter lifting you up placing you on top.

Abby whispered, "pretty," as she slid your panties aside. You gasped loudly when she traced her tongue over your clit, then gently pulled it into her mouth. Your back arched off the counter, and you found yourself gripping a handful of her hair.

The sound of your moans echoed throughout the room as you sensed your hips starting to tense, signaling that your climax was near. “Not yet,” Abby said, rising up and pressing her lips against yours in a messy kiss, allowing you to taste yourself.

You spread your legs wider, feeling her fingers at your entrance as you lock eyes with her. Abby thrusts into you, her two fingers stretching you, and you can't help but cry out, your nails digging into her shoulders.

Abby urged you, her breath warm against your lips, "look at me while I fuck you." As she quickened her rhythm, you matched her movements with your own. "Please, don’t stop," you pleaded, your voice filled with urgency and longing.

The moans grew louder as you reached your peak, your back lifted off the counter. Grasping Abby’s arm feeling your walls tighten around her fingers. Not holding back Abby thruster fasted into you as your body shook, your hand flying to cover your mouth as your chest moved up and down heavily.

Abby smirked as she brought her fingers, coated in your juices , up to your lips, gently tapping your jaw to signal you to open your mouth. As you complied, she slid her fingers inside, slowly pulling them while you savored your own taste.

Abby let out a soft moan as you pulled her into a kiss, and you swiftly hopped down from the counter, shifting your attention to the other woman above you, tugging at her pants. "it's your turn," you whispered, biting your lip in anticipation.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*