#Damn fifty minutes you write this

[ghostlightfic]

loop pokemon team? eyes? looking with my eyes loop pokemon team?

actually. whole gang pokemon team, thoughts?

hilariously enough i was already typing this but you had the misfortune to ask me directly. fucking get ready. if loop had a pokemon team they'd for sure have mimikyu. i don't think i have to explain mimikyu. honestly i think they'd mostly have ghost types. i like the idea of chandelure and yamask. again pretty self explanatory. also hisuian zoroark, for its batshit dex entry. they could have a gengar if AND ONLY IF siffrin has a clefable. for non-ghost types minior's an obvious option. maybe emolga i think they could vibe like hell with emolga. perhaps sharpedo? i do think it would be funny if sif and loop shared a pokemon but i don't know which one . maybe the emolga

the rest of my insanity going under a cut because oh dear god

i can believe in siffrin having a slightly more mixed team. clefable as mentioned to match loop's gengar (also because funny moon). perhaps pelipper (Island). also aforementioned potential shared emolga. they should have a cat. perhaps delcatty. i think it'd be fun to have a vivillon since the regional pattern would effectively be entirely unique to siffrin's assuming they got it on the island

mira's like fairy/grass to me. i think she should have a mega altaria or mega audino either work. funny whimsicott? i think she'd vibe like hell with a ribombee. she'd also vibe with meganium i think. perhaps lilligant or lurantis? her party's vibes are fucking Immaculate.

isa should get a leavanny i don't make the rules. i think he tends towards rock/ground/steel but the leavanny is key. he could hang out with an excadrill i believe this with my heart. shiny nidoking for trans rights? i believe in lycanroc but i don't know if it'd be midday or dusk. probably midday. i think he'd have the world's chillest ursaring

odile gets mainly psychic/ice it's just her energy to me. i feel like she'd roll with an aurorus. i think she could have a froslass and they would have girlboss solidarity. perhaps gothitelle i think they'd vibe. i think it'd be a little insanely funny if she had a hatterene because if that thing wasn't evolved it would've mauled siffrin and loop to death so quickly. i also think it'd be funny to throw something like an obstagoon or a krookodile in there just to really keep them guessing

Bonnie My Love... they'd have swirlix for sure. i think they should have some manner of cute little bug like a spinarak or a joltik. it just feels right. hisuian growlithe could be a slay. i could believe in something like a torchic. i know its basic but i think theyd have fun with a riolu. the puncher. i think it'd be fun if they had a pancham and nille had a pangoro

SURPRISE NILLE. nille has the aforementioned pangoro. i think it'd be wonderful if the pans were also siblings. she'd have primarily fighting i think. she would get along with breloom i believe this in my heart. i think it'd be pretty fitting for her to have a bewear. perhaps hakamo-o (she would not have high enough levels for a kommo-o LMAO). i think she'd like zangoose because she'd think it's fucking awesome (she's right). i think it'd be nice if she had like a minccino friend to help out with chores. i literally feel so bad for nille she can have a beloved rodent who helps keep the house clean

[bloomries]

y-you're too close!

includes : lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, and belphegor.

summary : they get a little too close to your face— and how are you supposed to ignore their mesmerizing eyes or kissable lips?

warnings : gn! reader. kissing (lucifer, satan, belphegor).

LUCIFER

Lucifer had, of course, went to visit you- and you just so happened to be in an empty classroom at the time. He found you rather easily, almost having a sixth sense for your presence. Standing behind you, he watched as read some words from a textbook before writing down an answer.

He then leans down to whisper in your ear, to teasingly praise you for your hardwork, when you turn your head to the side at just that moment— your lips brushing over his.

"L- Lucifer!?" You squeak, before falling out your seat from trying to pull back much too fast. His eyes widen, and he swiftly catches you before you can cause too much of a commotion.

"Are you alright?" He holds back a laugh, meanwhile you're trying to not have your heart explode.

"I'm fine- I just- you were- why were you so close!?" You manage to get out as he puts you back in place, your homework long forgotten by now. He tries to hide the quirk of his lip, but you see it and know he's preparing to tease you.

"Well, I wasn't expecting you to turn your head and try to kiss me." He says, touching his lips and shaking his head. "You must conduct yourself in a more respectful manner."

"You know I wasn't trying to- you just snuck up on me!" Lucifer frowns, still putting on an act special to you. He'd never act in such a silly manner to anyone else.

"But you still kissed me. You'll have to be held accountable." You groan, looking up at him with a dismal expression. You make him almost take pity on you, but then again he was never known as merciful.

"And how do you suppose I make up for my mistakes?"

"Hmm, perhaps kissing me again? On purpose this time, of course."

MAMMON

"Mammon, knock it off," You groan, pushing him away from you. He had been bothering you for the better half of the day, clinging on to you. You don't normally mind, but Mammon also doesn't normally poke your sides and pinch your thighs.

"Noo," He whines, and this naturally leads into you two play wrestling, Mammon ending up with his face perhaps a little too close to yours when he pins you down against the bed. Your eyes widen when you realize just how close he is.

"Hey, let up." You struggle in his grip and he huffs, getting all smug.

"No way. I won fair 'nd squa...re.... ah," That's when Mammon realized just how close to your face he was. "Uh..." He doesn't pull away from you, though his grip loosens. Now you're both messes. Mammon's hot in the face, and you're trying hard to ignore how sweaty your palms have grown.

After a few seconds on bashful staring at each other, Mammon finally pulls away and lets out a shaky loud laugh. "Ha, well, I won. So... I get to stay."

You're still too flustered to deny him, so you just nod wordlessly. However, the tension in the air is thick, and Mammon is like a statue from how he barely moves.

Both of you painfully aware of the obvious affections you two have been showing nonstop over the last few months, but none of it being really faced until just now- when you two were basically a inch away from kissing.

"Should we, uhm, y'know, talk... about what just-"

"I just remembered I have to do, uh, dishes!" Mammon stood up abruptly. "I- I'll talk to ya later!" Oh, this is definitely going to cause a few awkward days in the House of Lamentation.

LEVIATHAN

Leviathan and you had been up for hours on the new game he got, collecting items, ravaging villages, defeating enemies, and it all lead to now— the final boss. Through sweat, blood, and tears you two managed to defeat the final boss in a total of four minutes and fifty six seconds.

"Y- Yes!" You both shouted, cheering and jumping up from your seats, clinging on to each other with damn near tear in your eyes. "Yes! We did it!" Levi cried, squeezing you tightly.

You laugh with joy, pulling away from the hug only to be met face-to-face with Levi.

"Didn't doubt us for a second," You smile, a flirty lilt in your tone that has Levi sudden very conscious on how close you two are. Your eyes flicker down to his lips and he gasps- were you- no, no way! he was a gross otaku! you must be mistaken! yes, that's it!

And thus, Levi is quick to push your face away and accidentally push you back into your gaming chair. "Ow," you pout, and Levi gasps once more.

"S- Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, Levi, really," You chuckle, and he awkwardly laughs with you. He sits down back in his seat, letting the end music play as he messes with the hem of his shirt.

"I thought, I thought you were going to kiss me for a second," He admits bashfully, chuckling as if that was impossible. You quirk a brow, leaning back in your seat and eyeing him.

"I was."

"Haha, yeah exactly you weren't- wait, what!?"

"I said, I was. I was going to kiss you, Levi." You push yourself forward, your face once again impossibly close to his and he chokes on his own breath before squeezing his eyes shut, lips puckering forward a little.

You press a finger to his lips, and he peaks an eye open- disappointed. "Aw, too bad you missed your chance today, how about you try again tomorrow?" Ah, he most definitely would- if he didn't talk himself down by then!

SATAN

"Wait, so, forward, right- uhm, oh!" You had asked Satan to teach you how to dance upon getting the invitation to Diavolo's upcoming ball. Apparently demons love ballroom dancing. However, in your attempt to learn, you've come to realize that you're dancing skills are possibly a little rusty.

"Sorry," You chuckle, you had tripped over your own feet for the umpteenth time, but at least it was Satan's? You sigh, looking up at him as he looks down at you, and oh. Oh wow.

It was quiet, except for the classical music playing softly in the background. Your heart is racing, and you fear that in your close proximity he might be able to feel it. He fears the same, his grasp on you tightening. He has that charming smile resting on his features, despite the storm in his mind!

How desperately you want to kiss him- and had his eyes always been so green?

Your certain your cheeks are on fire, and you want so badly for the ground to swallow you up. You can't form any words, just staring like a lovesick fool- and Satan is doing no better. He's at a loss for words, truly. How could he even begin to form a sentence worth interrupting this moment?

Then, a book falls to the ground with a loud thud- a mischievous tabby meowing and stretching somewhere. You both pull away, Satan's cheeks growing a rosy color as he clears his throat.

"Maybe we should take a break? I'll... I'll go get us some waters," You say, about to leave, however Satan can't help himself and pulls you by the waist towards him.

"Please forgive me," He whispers, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Kiss m-" With that, he kisses you deeply. A kiss that certainly will make itself into your dance routine with Satan at the ball next week.

ASMODEUS

"What do you think?" Asmo asks, scooting closer to you, showing off the new look he was attempting- and obviously he was nailing it. He looked perfect, but that wasn't unusual in his case.

"Pretty as always," You say, not really looking at him. He was always showing off looks that were amazing, so you already knew that it was perfect. He whines, shimmying closer to you.

"You're not looking!" He pouts, and you sigh, turning your head abruptly- not expecting him to be so close. Oh. He did look very pretty. And now your cheeks are warm. "Thank you! So, how does it look?" He asks, as if the close proximity wasn't bothering him.

"You look nice- good- you look... good..." He frowns. Well good wasn't good enough. He pulls back and checks in the mirror, but finds not a single product out of place. He whips back around towards you, getting even closer to your face.

"Just good?"

"You look beautiful," You say, and he blinks in shock at your earnestness. He's glad the make up is covering up the blush that surely spreads on his cheeks.

"Oh my, are you falling for my good looks?" His teasing comment ruins the moment, and you scoff, shaking your head as you turn to look back at your phone.

"You wish, princess." You say, pushing him away by the shoulder. You ignore the heart palpitations as you scroll through your DDD.

BEELZEBUB

"Oh, Beel, you got something right there..." You say, pointing to your cheek to where Beelzebub had some sauce. Beel looks down at the food in his hands- both hands were pretty occupied, so he leaned in for you to wipe it away for him.

"W- What?-" It seems he underestimated how small the table was, though, as he leaned in way too close! Face hot, you lift a shaky hand to wipe away the sauce with a napkin and then he shoots you the biggest, most kissable grin in the world.

"Thanks!" He chuckles, before leaning back and taking another bite of his food. You can only stare at the table now though, lest you wish to continue your rather romantic thoughts.

Beel notices this, and once again leans in close— Damn it, is he trying to give you a heart attack!? He furrows his brows as he inspects you, before frowning. Shit, did he realize that you were having definitely not friendly thoughts?

"Are you okay? You look a lil' sick." He says, leaning back. You let a silent breath of relief before nodding.

"I'm fine, just... just a little hot, that's all." And technically, you weren't lying.

BELPHEGOR

"Shuddup," Belphegor groans, rolling over on to his side to face you, before grabbing your waist and pulling you into him. You gasp, not from the action- honestly, this is a rather typical evening with Belphegor (he claims he "sleeps better" when you're near him) but you gasp due to how close your face is to his.

Usually you land near his chest or vise versa, but this face-to-face view was definitely making you grow quiet. Belphegor was pleased with this, before he realized it took quite a lot to usually shut you up. He peaks an eye open with a frown.

"What's your deal?" When you don't respond and instead try to wiggle out of his arms, he tightens his grip and gets even closer. "Hm? Trying to get away?"

"Yes! Let me gooo!"

"Nah," He grins, realizing what's happening. "I think you don't really want me to let you go anyways, right? You wanna stare at my face longer? Wanna kiiisss meeee?" You groan, wishing to strangle the annoying demon. He laughs when you don't deny him.

"I knew it," He flutters his lashes close and pouts his lips out a little, trying to appear 'pretty' or... something? You just shake your head, done with his teasing. Grabbing his collar, you admire his natural beauty for a second— after all, who knows when you'll be so close to his face again— before catching him off guard with a kiss

Letting go of you out of shock, you're quick to run away, leaving Belphegor in a stunned, blushing mess. Stupid humans...~

[cakelitter]

Pawsitively Yours Leon x Puppy - Hybrid Fem! Reader

Warnings: age gap, daddy kink, fingering, breeding kink, slight mention of virginity, spanking, degradation

Summary: Leon's new puppy treats him to a relaxing bath after a stressful mission.

Words: 5.1k

a/n: this one took me so long to do omg. rewrote some paragraphs like three times. but anyway, hope you enjoy!!!!

December has started, and with it came the heavy rain fall and bone chilling winds. Leon makes his way to the nearby convenience store, trying to be as quick as possible before the sky starts getting upset again. Bundled up in his coat and boots, he can see the white smoke like fog that forms after each breath.

His nose froze long ago, and he’s only been out of the house for five minutes. His once functional nose now turning a rosy shade of pink along with his cheeks. And so, he opts to breathe through his mouth a bit till he reaches the warmth of the store.

Milk, eggs, bread, milk, eggs, bread, milk, eggs-

His mind keeps repeating, in order to not forget anything. Writing a list would have saved him so much back and forth, but he’d rather do that than give in and actually write one down. It’s actually impressive how stubborn a man can be.

The glowing lights from the festive decoration on the streets are single handedly illuminating his way to his destination. Christmas is right around the corner, and people are filled with excitement and glee. For Leon on the other hand, Christmas is another cold winter day with the advantage of things being half off the next day.

Maybe it’s the traumatic events that he went through, or maybe it’s the fact that he barely has anyone around to celebrate this once in a year holiday with. But Christmas is not as special as it once was.

Opening the glass door, he steps into the warm space. Breathing in comfortably for once without the feeling of pins and needles tormenting him from the icy air.

It doesn’t take him long to grab the items he initially came in here for, while picking up a bottle of whiskey along the way to keep him company. It was calling his name from the wooden shelf it once stood on, and it was fifty percent off. So, he’s technically doing something good. He places his belongings on the register, while making small talk with the old cashier. The man in front of him says something about the weather, old man talk, and as time passes by he is actually starting to like these types of small conversations more and more.

He's definitely getting old.

The yell of an employee interrupts their conversation, alerting everyone around and addressing a customer that sprints out the store with unpaid items in hand. He thought the officer inside of him died a long time ago, but apparently not. He starts chasing the individual, down the street into an abandoned alley way. When suddenly the clanking sound of cans ricochet through the eerie alleyway, as some of the cans their holding slip from their grasp and onto the concrete floor.

He tries his best to not step on any of them. Which shouldn’t be too hard if this damn alley way wasn’t so fucking dark. He can’t see shit in front of him. It’s practically almost pitch black and the person he’s chasing is wearing a black jacket with the hood up. He’s chasing shadows at this point. Hopefully he is even chasing someone in the first place and isn’t having another one of his hallucinations. Running out the store like a crazy person.

All he does know however is that whoever he’s running after is fast, real fast. He’s almost out of breath kind of fast. The I hope they slip so this can be over kind of fast.

His prayers must’ve been answered cause instead of them slipping, they found themselves reaching a dead end. They’re movement ceases and they freeze in place looking at the stone wall blocking their way out.

He stands behind the hooded figure, their back turned to him.

“Turn around.” He orders, voice stern and intimidating. The thief turns around slowly, eyes facing the ground and full of guilt.

“Take that hood off.” Shaky hands comply, revealing their identity. They look up at him, and… are those dog ears?

Your eyes make contact with his, tears brimming in your eyes, reflecting the yellow light coming from the nearby and only street light, horrified of the thought of what is going to happen to you next. Your ears are droopy and wet from he can only assume the previous rain. Eye brows furrowed and your tail from what he can tell is now hiding between your legs, covered by your oversized jacket. The jacket is two to three sizes too big for you, can’t tell if that’s a fashion choice. He’s not up to date with today’s fashion trends. You’re a hybrid. A homeless one, judging by the state of your clothes and hair.

Regardless of the disheveled appearance, you’re a real cutie. Practically begging him silently to pretend like he didn’t catch you, and let you go on your merry way. His eyes drop down to see what you’re holding in your arms and finds three cans of tuna there. You poor thing, hungry and shaking from either the cold or from the possibility of going to jail… or the pound. He’s not sure where they deal with your kind.

He steps closer, and immediately senses the he picked the wrong choice of action as you start growling. Taking the hint, he backs off and nods slowly raising his hands up, making you stop.

The sound of running footsteps enter into the alleyway the two of you are standing in.

“You caught them?” the employee from earlier asks. Your eyes move over to them then back to him. Leon is a firm believer that stealing for hunger isn’t a crime. You were stealing tuna cans for fucks sake, the cheapest kind too. Not a lavish necklace worth millions.

“Yeah…” he can hear your brain cogs working, thinking about how you will get yourself out of this situation. And he could swear that he heard a whine leave your mouth. Hybrids are looked at as a minority, either locket away in cages or poked in labs. And that’s if they weren’t causing trouble. He doesn’t know what the law would do to you in your case… but it’s most definitely not humane. After a moment, he speaks again, not taking his eyes off of you.

“How much did those cans cost?”

That incident was four months ago, and ever since that day he decided to take you in. Leon was very adamant on the idea of not adopting any pets, not having the time to take care of them. But he figured that since your half human, it wouldn’t be too bad.

The first couple of weeks were hard. You’d lock yourself in your room and hide under the covers when he’s home. You’d growl if he tried touching you, and in general was having a hard time adapting to your new space. Leon however, remained as patient as possible. Giving you your time to feel comfortable, and always made it clear that he’s not a threat to you. Although he can’t really blame you for thinking he is, after all, having a man chase you down and corner you in an alleyway isn’t the best first impression to make.

He doesn’t know much about your background. Whether you were experimented on in a lab and somehow managed to escape, or simply tossed into the streets. But it’s clear that your days before meeting him weren’t the brightest. Matter a fact, he didn’t even know what your voice sounded like for the first 3 weeks, and just assumed that your breed didn’t have the capabilities to speak.

Nevertheless, you decided to break this cycle of keeping him away, when he once came home and sat on the couch. You were laying down on the floor on the further end of it. And to his surprise, decided to walk towards him, laying down and placing your head on his boot, instead of scurrying away into your room.

Leon has fought some of the most gut-wrenching bioweapons, designed to end a man’s life in a matter of seconds and managed to end them without breaking much of a sweat. Yet, this is his biggest achievement yet. You wanted to be next to him, instead of telling him to fuck off like usual. With your eyes of course, he still hasn’t unlocked the dialogue option with you at that time.

Ever since then, you’ve made small steps of opening up to him. And now, he’s the center of your universe, the main attraction, your favorite toy. Pawing at him for belly rubs, standing at the door, ready to greet him, as soon as you hear the jingle of the keys, and needing his attention 24/7 whenever he’s home.

You are now a completely different pup compared to the one he found wet and cold in a sketchy alleyway a few months back. You’re playful and energetic. A pain in the ass to take to the doctor for checkups, but nonetheless, a perfect companion for him. Leon likes to believe that you’re a gift sent to him, an early Christmas gift to light up his gloomy days. A thing he never knew he needed.

Ever since you stepped into his life, leaving paw prints behind, he started getting better without even knowing it. Instead of spending nights self-loathing and mourning the person he could’ve been, downing beer after beer. He spends that time now playing with you and watching movies together. Colorful ones though, your attention span isn’t the best…

He anticipated that you would have dog-like characteristics, and you do. Going crazy over squeaky toys, sniffing him for a good fifteen minutes after he comes back home, being obsessed with his shoes and hiding them under your bed, and tilting your head to the side when you’re confused.

Pure innocence, pure puppy innocence is what you are. Which is the reason that made him feel like a creep for his dick standing up whenever you’d sneak into his bed at night, cause you had a bad dream. Wearing skimpy shorts that did nothing to hide your ass, and a tight floral tank top without a bra. Your pouty lips, and soft-spoken voice. Your pretty eyes, and delicate skin.

“Leon…I had a bad dream; can I sleep with you?” Is all he would hear coming from the direction of his bedroom door. You don’t even bother waiting for him to answer, and instead climb into his bed, tangling your self around him. Head nuzzled into his chest, one of your arms and legs draped over his body. It doesn’t even take you longer that a minute to be fast asleep, leaving him an achy mess without even knowing it.

In addition to how you’d sit on his lap while watching a movie. He hasn’t taught you boundaries yet, knowing you, you’d get upset and give him those kicked puppy dog eyes for shooing you off his lap. Cause it makes his dick fucking hard.

It wouldn’t be such a big deal if you stayed still for once. He swears that you can’t stay in one position unless your asleep. As long as that cute little brain of yours is conscious, you’ll keep squirming on him lap, again with those frilly white skirts and revealing shorts, like he isn’t on the verge of losing it.

Worst part of it all, how your cunt always seems to be so wet all the time. Feeling it seep through your panties and onto his pants, making him want to die on the spot. The way your underwear will always have massive wet patches on them whenever he does the laundry. Is that even normal?

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Today he came back home after being away for three weeks. Opening the door, he doesn’t find your figure standing in front of him, with a flashy smile on your face, showing off your sharp canines. Twinkling so perfectly like you didn’t suck his bank account dry with those toys off yours. He raised his eyebrow at your absence and whistled hoping your pick it up in case you haven’t heard the sound of the front door opening. Which is pretty unlikely.

Dropping down his bag in the hallway, he walks over to the living room. The older man inspects the area, calling out for you, yet there is no sign of you. Kitchen, same thing. It’s not till he reaches the dining room till he spots out of the corner of his eyes the sight of your fluffy tail sticking out from under the table.

A grin creeps up on his face as he walks towards your hiding spot. He stops a few inches away from where you are and pretends like he’s still looking for you.

“Oh my god, I can’t find her!” He exaggerates, and watches over at how your tail starts wagging.

Cute.

“Where could she possibly be!!” it starts swishing left and right even harder, hitting the chair legs that are on either side of it.

Thump

Thump

Thump

“Is she under the dining table?”

…

“Or is she in my room?”

Thump

Thump

Thump

You’re adorable.

“Oh well I give up. Guess I’ll never find her.” He says throwing his arms defeatedly and turns around to exit the room.

“Boo!” Jumping out from under the table, you reveal yourself. Your arms extending and grabbing his leg. He chuckles and you look up at him with a beaming smile.

“Did I scare ya?”

“Real good, sweet thing.” He replies and crouches down to your level, rubbing behind your ear. Your favorite spot. He helps you get up and you waste no time beginning to sniff him near his shoulder. Face scrunching up at the smell and your eyes meet his again.

“Did you swim in the sewers again?” you ask rubbing your nose.

“I-… yeah”

It’s a long story okay…He needed to get to a certain point but the normal way was blocked so he had to-

Whatever.

Your head nods up and down slowly, knowing your nose is never wrong.

“I’ll go shower.”  He replies, and your eyes light up.

“Want me to help?” You ask excitedly, your tail wagging intensely. “I’ll help you take a bath, and I’ll let you use my rubber duckies too!”

“No honey I-”

You give him those eyes. The ‘you wouldn’t be mean and break my frail puppy heart would you?’ eyes. The eyes that make the strongest agent in the United States, weak. And to no one’s surprise, he gives in.

“Fine, but you only prep the bath and then leave, okay?”

“Don’t you want me to wash your hair like you wash mine?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“…I’ll only prep the bath and leave.” That took you longer to answer than he would like. “Promise? “He asks.

“…”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He nods, making sure that you understood what he was saying. And as soon as you get his approval, you sprint to the bathroom and the sound of the tub being filled follows pursuit.

He sighs, shaking his head with a smile. Walking to his bedroom, he grabs a freshly cleaned towel before making his way to the bathroom. Your figure is kneeling on the floor, hands grabbing the edge of the tub, watching as it fills with water and bubbles.

Turning around, you smile with a tail wag and turn off the faucet once the water has reached the amount, he usually puts for you.

“It’s ready!” He nods and you start to make your way to the door. As you do, he grabs the edge of his shirt and begins lifting it revealing the bare skin beneath. You stop in your tracks and he notices, your eyes looking at his defined muscles without even blinking.

“Out!”

“Okayyy” You whine, brows furrowing as you slowly close the door. Not before taking a final look of course.

He continues undressing and walks over to the tub, it has some bubbles and a couple of rubber ducks floating on top of it. Placing one foot in, the water is a little too hot, but not bad considering it being your first time doing something like that.

The water level rises as he soaks his entire body, feeling his muscles relax. Soothing his aching muscles and bones. A moment later, he pulls himself fully under the water, and then comes back out, pulling his hair off his face, giving him a slicked back hairstyle you always make fun of him for.

The smell of soap and the feeling of finally being safe after three hellish weeks grounds him as he closes his eyes. Once he reopens them, one of your rubber duckies is looking at him.

God, this is a bit weird.

He grabs it and inspects it, it’s mostly in good condition except for a few bite marks here and there. Wonder who those belong to. He examines the duck for a few more minutes, taking in its yellow body and orange beak. You go crazy over these things, he practically needs to drag you out of the tub each time because of them.

The silence around him is broken when he hears the sound of the door slightly opening which is followed by a cold gust of wind. He looks over and sees one of your eyes looking into the room.

“What did I tell you?” He says, but you don’t respond. Thinking you can trick him into thinking that you’re not there, just like how you still think he couldn’t see you back when you were hiding. And to think your breed is supposed to be one of the smartest.  He calls out your name, making you speak and pull the bathroom door open exposing yourself, kneeling next to it.

“I wanted to see if you were having fun…”

“I am now leave.” He says, tone trying to show seriousness. You don’t listen and in lieu, start crawling towards the tub.

“Are you listening to me?” He speaks again, but it falls to deaf ears. How can he blame you for not listening when he has never disciplined you. Spoiled brat. Ever since he picked you off the streets and claimed you as his own, he has not even once, raised his voice or gotten angry at you.

You crawl over and place your head on the edge of the tub. He’s honestly shocked at how shameless you’re being.

“That one’s name is Jerold.” Your voice says, pointing at the duck he forgot he was holding. A pathetic attempt of trying to change the topic. He looks at the duc- Jerold then back at you. Smiling so sweetly with a halo above your head like you just didn’t break his word.

He sighs, realizing there is no use in wasting his breath and places Jerold back in the water. Looking over back at you, he notices that you’re no longer watching his face, but at something else intensely. Curious, he follows your eyes and realizes at what caught your attention. The bubbles in the bath decided to migrate to either side of the tub, making his crotch completely exposed to your prying eyes.

You’re are not even blinking, a thing you do when you’re thinking too hard about something. The snap of his finger cuts your thread of thoughts, making you jump as you look back at his face, the place you should only be looking at from the get go.

“Privacy?”

Your ears go back in shame, it’s like you didn’t even realize that you were staring.

“Sorry… The water just looks nice.” He raises a brow at you. You are a pervert and a horrible liar.

“The water.” He repeats, showing you how ridiculous your lie was. You remain silent for a while, but start getting a bit fidgety. Looking around and getting up and sitting down again, the same way you act when he’s about to give you a treat.

“Can I get in the bath?” You say impatiently. You’ve always loved bath times, and pools, and lakes, and every single body of water that has ever existed. So, this is not unusual for you to ask, but he can’t help but feel like your intentions aren’t pure.

“No.”

“Why?”

…

Good question. Why not? He does think you’re the cutest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. He has fantasized about you before, something he doesn’t like admitting. He has checked you out a few times too… you were once again, wearing flimsy clothing, prancing around him, licking his neck and begging him to touch you and give you rubs. At the end of the day Leon is a man, who is guilty of thinking with his dick a time or two.

But he always resisted his urges. Locked them away in one of the rooms in his mind next to other gruesome core memories and throwing away the key. You were his baby, he’s supposed to protect, care, and provide for you, not fuck you.

By the time the voices in his head are fighting each other, you were quick to take off your clothes. And next thing he knows you’re in the tub with him. He goes to protest against what you’re doing, but you straddle him and place your head on his shoulder.

If that was your plan to shut him up… it worked. You feel warm and soft. The plush of your breast pressing up against his chest as he watches your chest rise and fall. Maybe this is wholesome, not like the two of you are naked and he could practically feel your cunt on his dick. No no no, that would be absurd.

He places his hand on your back, and moves it up and down soothingly. Why is he even rubbing your back? You disobeyed him, shouldn’t he be pissed? The two of you sit in silence for a while, before you remove your head off his shoulder. Arms still on either side of his neck, your eyes meet his. Dropping from his sky-blue eyes, over to his wet lips. Fuck.

You lean in. Fuck fuck fuck.

And you kiss him. Possibly the most delicate kiss he’s ever experienced. Full of pure affection. He doesn’t push you, he doesn’t pull back, he doesn’t lecture you about boundaries. But instead, he takes it. All of his attention on your mellow lips and light breath.

You pull away, locking eyes together. And he sees the blood rushing to your cheeks. Did he ever mention that you were cute? You anticipate him lecturing you, yelling at you, or even kicking you out, for what you did. But he doesn’t.

Remember that voice that was telling him that this is weird? Yeah, it can go fuck itself. He leans in and kisses you lips again. You let out a soft breath at his action, and he can hear the sound of your tail wagging once again even when it’s submerged in water.

Splash

Splash

Splash

Once more, your lips disconnect and you start shifting your hips above him. His dick has already started rising ever since your lips made contact with his.

“Can I wash your hair now?” he laughs.

“Sure, why not.”

And so, you do. Grabbing his shampoo bottle and squeezing some product on your hand before lathering in on his head. Your fingers work the product into his hair, before grabbing the nearby shower head and rinsing it off. The masculine aroma of his shampoo fills the small space as he decides he might as well give you a bath while he’s at it. He goes to grab your shampoo before your hand stops him.

“I want to use yours… wanna smell like you.” His heart could burst out of his chest at this moment. This shouldn’t have turned him on this much, but alas it did. Without complaints, he does what you want. Repeating the same process, you did on his hair earlier.

It doesn’t take long before the two of you walk out the tub. He pats you dry with his towel then himself. This went over rather smoothly, see wholesome just like he said. Everything is under contro- you’re rubbing your thighs together.

“Leon…” Your soft voice calls out to him, grabbing his attention. He hums in response and looks over at your eyes. Stepping closer, you place a soft lick over his collar bone before beginning to kiss the area. Your hand creeps up the side of his neck over to his jaw, coaxing him to accept your touch. And you almost managed to do that, till those voices in his head barged in once again.

He grabs your hand gingerly and whispers. “Baby, I don’t know if we should do this.”

You whine, mouth stopping its assault on his neck to speak. “Please, wanted you to breed me for so long.”

Once again, those voices get thrown out the window, as the words you just said make his brain short circuit. Cursing under his breath, he smashes his lips against yours harshly driving you up the bathroom wall.

You kiss him back fervently. Hands cupping his face as his chest closes the proximity between the two of you. Grabbing your jaw, his hands slither down and cup your mound, receiving yet another whine from your lips. Music to his ears.

His finger then starts making firm circles around your clit making your hips buck forward towards his touch craving more. Your hands scramble around his chest, a puppy like you has probably never experienced something like this before, huh.

His tongue enters your mouth and you accept it gladly. Two of his fingers rub between your folds back and forth. Collecting the slick that is practically dripping down your thigh, your hole is practically weeping. And he groans at the slippery feeling, before plunging two of his fingers into you with ease. Your back arches and you moan into his mouth, as his fingers start moving in and out of your wet heat.

“Who knew my sweet pup was such a slut.” He says pulling your ears closer to his mouth with the iron grip he as on your jaw.

You’re so sensitive, thighs begin to tremble at the way his fingers curl into you, and the real fun hasn’t even started. You can barely stand at this point. Realizing that, he grabs your thighs and pulls you over his shoulder and makes his way to his room. He plops you down on the bed, and you immediately roll over to your stomach, back arched, and ass up in the air like its instinct. He could get used to the sight of this, your face pressed down on his sheets and begging him to fuck you senseless.

“You know sweetheart, I don’t even think I should breed you after you’ve disobeyed me so much today.” He says, hands rubbing over your ass. And upon hearing his words your expression shifts, it feels like he just told you the most heartbreaking news you could ever receive in your whole life.

“Noo please. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah? I don’t believe that.”

“I promise, I won’t do it again Daddy.”

Shit.

You’re into that too.

...Oh, your nastier than he thought. Without even replying, he grabs his cock, slapping it a few times on your ass, precum forming strings connecting the two surfaces. Then bullies his cock into you making your feet kick out with a squeal. His balls are plush against your clit as he completely bottoms out inside of you.

You start drooling over the mattress, hands clutching the sheets beneath you for dear life. And without giving you much time to adjust, he starts moving. You feel so tight around him, its driving him crazy. The squelching sounds of your tight dripping pussy can be heard from a mile away. The fluid dripping from the hole that is connecting the two of you and down onto Leon’s gray sheets. Leaving wet dark gray spots on the surface. Picking up his pace, his hips slam into you harshly, pornographic moans can be heard from the two of you along with the clapping sound of your skin slamming against his.

He grabs your hips and leans in, having your back against his abdomen as he speaks into your ear.

“Here I was thinking you were innocent, not knowing what you were doing. Having your entire pussy on display for me, all wet and needy, waiting for me to fuck you full like the slut you are.”

“Wanted you.” is all you can manage to retort back, voice breaking from the impact each thrust has on you. He chuckles lowly and spanking your ass making you yelp and squirm beneath him before grabbing it. The skin now, hot and red beneath his touch.

“Should’ve spoken earlier sweetheart. I wouldn’t be this rough if I wasn’t so pent up.”

Your pussy is now sucking him in even further as he rabbits his dick into you. His hand moves over and under you, making its way to your clit. Pleasure is slowly but surely fogging up your brain, no thoughts other than Leon floating around in your head.

“Be a good girl and cum for me. And maybe then I’ll breed you.” And just like that, your thighs shudder beneath you as your pleasure blurs out your vision. The idea of being full of Leon’s pups making you see stars.

The tightness that you are gripping Leon in, in addition to your walls spasming around him, makes him tighten his grip on your hips leaving bruises there. His release ensuing yours. You bite your lip at the hot liquid being spurted out inside of you. Making you feel warm on the inside. Leon groans at the intensity of his release, one he forbid himself from for such a long time.

He thrusts a few more times, distributing his cum evenly inside you, and pushing it further up your cunt. He lets out a breath at the sight, one he can’t believe is seeing.

Plopping a delicate kiss on the middle of your back. He pulls out with a squelching sound from both your fluids combined, forcing a whimper out of the two of you at the discomfort. He walks over to the tissue box he keeps on his bedside table, and helps you clean up the mess. Throwing away the dirty napkin and laying down on the bed next to you, his arms open and inviting you.

You cuddle up against his chest, and he places a soft peck on top of your head.

“Thanks for the bath sweetheart.”

divider by: @/picopipi

[anothermansjeans]

Heyy Idk if this is how you request but we'll see......

Could you maybe do like a singer!reader who writes like dirty af songs abt Spencer and then Penelope shows the song to the rest of the team and they all start low-key bullying him and continue making comments abt it while on a case or something like that??

<33

XOXO-

~W~

okay i don't know any DIRTY DIRTY songs so i apologize if this isn't that great 😭 let me know if you want another one that shows different songs! ALSO I IMAGINE THE READER SINGING A DIFFERENT OUTRO TO NONSENSE EVERY NIGHT JUST LIKE MS SABRINA CARPENTER

cw: implied sex, reader talks sings about getting head and being handcuffed

wc: 610

masterlist

++

“Oh, hey pretty boy.”

Spencer walked into the bullpen to see the majority of the team huddled around Derek’s desk with amused looks on their faces. He tentatively continued his walk, but immediately froze in place when he heard the video playing from the computer.

“This song’s catchier than chickenpox is.

I bet your house is where my other sock is.

Woke up this morning, thought I’d write a pop hit.

How quickly can you take your clothes off, pop quiz?

My man’s IQ is one-eighty-seven.

When he’s going down on me I’m in Heaven.

Handcuff me to the bed like I’m a felon.”

Her laughs could be heard from the video, and Spencer’s face immediately turned fifty shades of red.

“So, where were you last night, Reid? You know, when you said you couldn't join us for drinks.”

He rolled his lips into his mouth at Emily’s question. Everyone had an expecting look except for Penelope… She seemed guilty. “I uh, I was at a concert…”

“What concert?” JJ’s question was presented as innocent, but it was everything but that.

“My girlfriend’s,” he mumbled lowly, barely loud enough for them to hear.

“Could you repeat that?”

Spencer glared at Derek, he knew exactly what he was doing. “My girlfriend’s.”

“Well hot damn, you finally admitted it!”

“I wasn't keeping it a secret. I'm just not as open about my love life as the rest of you are.” He huffed and brought himself over to his desk.

“Well, Garcia was kind enough to show us a video she found online and we didn't know what to expect… who else has an IQ of one-eighty-seven?”

Spencer whipped his head over to Penelope with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry!” Her hands went up in her defense. “I just– I love her music and I couldn't make it to the concert in D.C last night so I was watching videos that people took and it doesn't take a genius to know who she's talking about when we know you so well.” Her words were quick, and she was huffing to breathe when she finished her sentence.

Spencer groaned and put his head in his hands.

“I think my favorite song of hers is Nasty.”

Spencer winced at Emily’s words as everyone else laughed. They definitely are going to have a field day with him.

“I love Espresso.” The humor in JJ’s voice was evident.

“So It Goes… and Guilty as Sin? might be the top contenders for me,” and Derek just has to add on. “Tell us, Reid, are scratches down your back?”

Spencer stood up and went towards the coffee machine, ignoring the laughs and references they were making. He was allowed about three minutes of solace before Penelope hesitantly tapped his shoulder with a shy look on her face. “We got a case. Everyone’s at the round table.” He gave a nod at her words and followed her, ears perking up when he heard her singing under her breath, “don't want to wait on it. Tonight, I wanna get nasty.”

He suppressed the groan waiting to come out, and sat down at the table when he felt a buzz in his pocket.

Y/N: made it to philly!! love you, be safe today. text me whenever you're free 🫶

He was about to message back before Hotch walked in, “We’re going to brief as quickly as possible. We're headed to Philadelphia.”

He knew Penelope knew the next stop on Y/N’s tour, and could feel her eyes boring into the side of his face. He was mentally preparing for the jokes as soon as they stepped out of the conference room.

++

songs that i imagined reader wrote about spencer:

nonsense by sabrina carpenter

nasty by ariana grande

espresso by sabrina carpenter

so it goes... by taylor swift

guilty as sin? by taylor swift

dress by taylor swift

[sexlapis]

i know requests are closed and im sorry but i need this so i dont forget 💖 actor!toji looking at edits on live and hes like “so yall see me like this” and the fans go wild

actor!toji on live!

okay i’ll make an exception once.

𝜗𝜚 actor!toji (x implied gn!reader)

sfw, crack, tiktok (bc that’s it’s own warning), suggestive, horny toji fans, toji has reading glasses, petnames (‘kid’) he’s a little rude but when is he not :), old man toji <3

〆(・∀・) : me after not writing abt actor toji for like a month 😊🤗

masterlists

actor toji masterlist

*

“hey, everybody,” toji said, waving to camera as if he didn’t fumble and struggle in front of his fans for the past ten minutes trying to get his phone to stand up securely. he looks cute, dressed in a navy blue hoodie with nothing underneath and his dark hair was a messy mop atop his head.

now he just sits in his chair at his dining room table, watching the viewer count rise and rise to absolutely ridiculous numbers.

“fourty thousan-fifty thou-sixty thousand?! didn’t know i had so many fans..jesus christ…”

honestly, toji had no idea what he was doing and he was a tiny bit nervous. this was his first ever “live” (something that he did not know even existed until you told him) and he had no idea how to entertain his fans or what they really wanted. but they seem pleased with him just staring at the camera in confusion and admiring his handsome face.

toji proceeds to read some of the comments in the rapid moving chat of chaos. here, starts the beginning of his own demise.

many comments are sweet, kind, praising him for his talent and acting skills, some were just spamming their country flags and names, a rare male fan is asking to see his guns collection, others asking about his upcoming projects but the majority of them are…not exactly PG in the slightest.

toji’s eyes could bulge out of damn skull at some of the explicitly and complete shamelessness of his fans. he knew they found him attractive, but this was a whole other level of depravity.

“what the fuck…” toji whispers in awe, mouth agape as his eyes scan through the chat, his eyes being fed with the most desperate and thirsty comments he has even read, “you guys are sumthin’ else…”

his one sentence just pours fuel on the, already blazing and large, fire, the chat moving so fast that is starts to lag.

“why’d i even speak..”

he actually takes time to read each comment that he can see (and stomach) and one of them catches his eye.

“watch your edits on tiktok? i have edits? what’s an edit?”

the chat blows up even more, commenters begging and begging him to watch these…edits.

“alright, alright, i’ll watch these “edits”,” toji says to the camera, before pulling out another phone, one that is clearly quite old, jagged edges and a cracked camera, a raggedy phone case and just overall not in the best condition it could be in.

“‘what is that ancient ass device’ eh? this is my main phone,” he replies to a comment, showing his phone to the camera to his fans can see, “‘s fine, works perfectly. and it’s not “ancient”. it’s actually a nokia. pft, dumbass kids.”

toji can feel himself being flamed in the chat. even more so when he pulls out his reading glasses.

“yeah, ‘m fuckin’ old. jesus.”

he squints, scrolling on his beaten up phone with his index finger, “y’know, ion even really use tiktok, i only got it so _____ can send me videos of whatever the fuck. i swear, that kid sends me a million videos per day..” toji sighs, smiling at the thought of you, “ahh, they’re just so dumb.”

toji, after a long time of searching through trial and error and directions from his fans, eventually finds the search page of tiktok.

“alright, what’d i type in then? just ‘toji’? ‘toji fushiguro’?” he looks for answers in the chat, but find himself getting frustrated at the lack of actual responses to his question. he tuts, “i’m just gonna search ‘toji fushiguro edits’ and see what happens.”

he does just that and the results are…very interesting.

right in front of his very eyes are miles and miles of edits of himself, created by his fans, their depravity exposed for him to see, some of who were probably watching him at this very moment.

“jeeeeesus christ. ‘dunno what i even expected, honestly,” he scrolls through them, audios changing constantly as he does so, his eyes wide and wondering, “i’m actually impressed…”

toji pressed on one, and he watches it, the edit flashing in the reflection of his glasses as he watches. his open mouth slowly turns into a smirk of amusement and all out disbelief, the audio of the video being something about… ‘needing someone older’?

“so you guys see me like this?” he asked, expression incredulous and he breathes out a small chuckle, “buncha little fuckin’ freaks.”

the chat seems to like that. a lot.

his chat is once again flooded with comments from hell…hell for people driven purely by lust, that is.

toji huffs, “how old is this person anyway?”

he seemingly clicks on the account and reads their username. well, almost.

“‘tojis little cu-woah!” he almost drops his phone out of his hand, jaw on the floor, “how old are you! sixteen?! toji looks to the camera, eyebrows furrowed before slamming his phone on the table and pointing at his fans through the screen, “go do your homework! and be in bed by nine. actually, no scratch that, eight! christ…sixteen years old, oh my god…”

he continues to mutter to himself, completely baffled at how some of his fans are so young and just so…out of their minds. his skin crawls at the thought of a sixteen year old liking him in such a way.

toji shivers, “god, where are your parents?” he questions and continues to search through the edits, before finding one that looks safe, innocent and PG.

he was proven wrong however, when the audio was a woman rapping about being put in full nelsons-

“okay, that’s enough!” he slams his phone down again on the table, “i’ve seen enough,” and then he reaches for the camera, not even caring about his viewers. he mutters a, “crazy fuckin’ kids” before abruptly ending his “live” and going to take a nap.

*

the next day, you have sent him over ten videos on tiktok, all of them being edits of him from the day of the live, most of them containing the clip of when he called his fans, quote, a “buncha little fuckin’ freaks” unquote.

toji sighs at them, secretly entertained that you must be watching these deviant edits of him too.

*

〆(・∀・) : no i have not forgotten abt actor toji

taglist: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000 | @morgyyyyyyy | @studiecoherence | @earth2fae | ce-namonreads | @ib4ryuguji | @hisjaegerist | @basiloverthyme | @sweet-kiwi | @sayitowshi | @iovemytoru | @thecompletechaosmaster | @sugutoad | @inumakiiz | @uzxotic | @1meshugge1 | @kunikuzushisbeloved (sorry some could not be tagged for some reason </3)

[ronearoundblindly]

Drabble Birthday Ask!

Reader finally 'catches' the thing Steve's been hiding... it's that he's tired. He's tired, and he thinks it's non-inspiring or embarrassing or a burden, and he has been acting weird to cover for that.

Steeeeeeb!!!! Yes of course some TLC for Stevie. Excellent. Would recommend. 11 out of 10. Always give him the peace and safety! (Don't hate me though; it's just a bit of established relationship fluff!)

I am uncharacteristically skipping the part where you confront Steve about this. Yes, that's right. Remain calm. Ro has passed up the opportunity to write an argument. Hold your applause. WC idk but probably 2k or less (bit of a surprise at the end, too 🤭)

It's so easy.

It's just so damn easy to lose track, to keep going, to repeat. One more conversation. One more chore. One more hour. One more day. One more.

More. Constantly more.

Steve is very good at giving more. He is consistent, constant, incessant, but you can see now that despite his unending strength, your husband can't hide that drawn, fragile look behind his eyes any longer.

Sometimes, that's life.

"Actually, scratch that shit," Tony says with a flagrant point to your face as you chat. "Life is always like that. I know what Big Guy needs, don't you worry. Consider it sorted."

This speed-date style convo tumbles through a ten-second-savoring of tea. You got one cryptic sentence about 'how you're doing' in before Tony perfectly translates your meaning.

For once, more is unnecessary. He knows.

Stark, however, doesn't even have a moment to finish the turn up of his lips in a smile before his watch is pinged.

His eyes focus to the inside of his glasses. "Go for the World's Most Fashionable Hero," he deadpans, wandering off with his mug clasped like a lifeline in his hands.

Yeah, you know that feeling. Wit's End must be as contagious as pinkeye 'round these parts.

Steve's been silent for the last hour of the car ride. He checks the address. He checks the map. He checks the road. That's it.

Music he usually hates has been playing for fifty-one minutes and counting. No reaction.

Clearly, you were right to ask Stark for help.

The gravel drive up to the cabin is bumpy, and Steve apologizes for having to go so slowly.

"Almost there. I think it's--yeah, there. Okay, we're here." Your husband flips the key back and out of the ignition, a stunted sigh forcing it's way past his tight shoulders, immediately opening the door and heading for the trunk. "I'll get the bags. You get the--"

"Steve? Will you come with me for a sec?"

He looks at you--really sets his eyes on you--for the first time since loading the car.

"What's wrong?"

You crunch up to the short staircase to the long porch. "Just come up here, please."

It takes another wave of your hand in encouragement before Steve abandons the small duffels and totes. He's not used to leaving a man behind. He's got a mission. He's supposed to finish the job. Always one more thing.

More. Constantly more. That's Steve's life, and he does it without complaint. Never, ever complaining, even when he should.

His heavy, tired feet fall hollowly on the wood.

"We're starting now," you chirp, excited to surprise him.

Steve tips his bodyweight to lean on the banister, crossing his ankles before crossing his arms, his head down while sneaking a squint-and-blink to try and bounce his energy back.

"Sure, what's first on the list?"

"Oh, no," you correct. "The list is mine. Those are my activities for the weekend. You are here."

His brow furrows. "What? You're gonna--"

"Steve." You gently hold onto his arms. "I mean, you have nothing to do. Not a single thing. And I don't care where you do it, but you will be doing nothing all weekend. Sleep in the bed, on the couch, on the dingy over there, hell, right here on the porch swing. It doesn't matter. It's your rest, but you must rest."

"What about--"

"Nope."

"Or if--"

"Uh-uh, definitely not."

Steve looks slightly panicked. "Dinner?" he tries in a last-ditch effort to be useful every minute of every day.

"There is a bag of stuff that I will be dumping into a crockpot and walking away from, so, no, you can't do that either."

He's still not sure, eyes glassy and flickering about.

"There's fruit for breakfast, veggies and dip for snacks, and we don't have to even turn on the stove unless we want to. Now--" you release him "--I'm putting stuff away and--"

Steve opens his mouth to argue.

"--and not one word out of you. Not one, sweets. Go. Be free. Sleep. Stare at the water, or a wall, or the ceiling for all I care, but you have nothing else to do today. Okay?"

His eye twitches, a half-hearted glare melting into a challenge in his tight jaw.

"Okay???" you prod.

His hands fling out in defeat. "You told me not to say a word," he whines, automatically making his way back down the stairs.

"No bags," you scold.

He whips around, almost muttering.

"No bags." You rush down and past him toward the car. "And I will bring you looser clothes to sleep in."

"You--"

"AH!"

"But--"

"What did I just say, Rogers?"

Now he just looks petulant, a familiar mood in your household.

You stubbornly point to the cabin. "Go on. Git!"

He watches you bring in the mindfully-light bags you packed up for the trip, pouting and scowling in equal measure.

Steve has to show off at least once by snatching up a bit of potato that rolled across the counter in the transfer of dinner.

Instead of thanking him, you shove a t-shirt and thin sweats at his chest.

He fakes an oof of surprise and traps you for a quick kiss before going to change. He does leave you alone for the rest of setting up.

Steve is dead asleep on the deep, two-seater porch swing when you head to the little work shed, his knees bent so he faces in, his forehead buried in cushion to block out daylight, already snoring softly.

You have to hold your hands to your chest so as not to touch him. Tears of joy prick your eyes seeing him relax so quickly.

Steve can follow orders when he wants to, you think with a smile.

In the garden shed, Pepper has all the cool crafting things, and you putz around with some wood pieces and paints for a couple of hours. You walk the perimeter of the cabin to find some nice wildflowers for a table centerpiece, mixing delicate stems of blue buds with expansive wisps of white and little pops of yellow. You attempt to figure out the dingy but decide against going on the water alone yet. Maybe tomorrow.

At no point does Steve move.

When you walk up to the house, fist full of flowers, he's out cold, softly swaying in the breeze as the gusts pick up in the afternoon.

You snack and listen to music in your headphones, doze in the bed after the sun warmed you a little too much, and then wake to the smell of stew.

The beep of the crockpot wakes him.

Bedhead and pillow mishmarks on his cheek look great on Steve Rogers.

Without argument, he washes his hands and sits at the reclaimed wood table.

Steve says only two things:

"Thank you" when you set a large bowl in front of him, and "can you pass the salt?" after he taste-tests the meal.

He reads a book until falling asleep for the night with you, curled with his knees bent again.

He does well.

He keeps resting, multiple times with his book open on his chest, barely to halfway after hours and hours of holding on to the browning paperback pages.

He rests in the bed. He rests on the couch. He rests (again) on the porch swing. Finally, he rests in your lap while you both float on the lake in the dingy.

He rests with you by his side. He rests with you in his arms. He rests even when you leave to do something else. It's exactly what you wanted, what he needed, and how it should be.

Steve mumbles a fair few things, but the most important thing is that none of it is important enough to articulate. He doesn't have to talk. He doesn't have to be heard. He doesn't have to be understood.

He only has to rest, and he's following orders well. He's completing his mission.

It is truly fascinating how close you can feel without words--okay, so you two aren't completely non-verbal for the weekend, but there are no long conversations. After being married for a while, those are not entirely necessary. You know each other too well for all that; Steve simply feels the stigma of being weak and tired from his youth.

He holds himself to a different, impossible standard. He thinks of it as pushing the limits of his serum, as offering everything he has to others, as respecting those he cares for by shouldering burdens. You think it's stupid.

It is the only stupid thing Steve Rogers does.

Now, after days of resting, you're pretty sure Steve knows he was being stupid.

You hope he knows he can ask for help or a break whenever he wants, before he needs it this badly.

To your great delight, Steve gathers up his things that were left around the house, but he leaves the actual packing to you. This is very helpful in keeping the final surprise.

He's watching the water, sitting up in the porch swing for once with an arm thrown over the back, an easy, calm smile stretched across his face, the first you've seen in months if you're being honest.

Steve gestures for you to join him, but you bite your lip and check the gravel drive.

Exactly on schedule, an engine revs and wheels crackle over the gravel.

You wink at your husband just as excited shouts ring out from Tony's fancy car.

"Papa! Papa! Look what Morgan and I found at the beach!"

"I made you a seashell necklace, Momma. You, too, Pops."

Your children race up the porch steps and jump into the space below Steve's arm.

His smile is still easy, but perhaps a little more excited than calm.

More. Constantly more.

But it's not all tiring...

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay

@rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Cupid doesn’t gamble II

Summary: Leon, a mafia boss whose empire dominates all casinos on the west coast, meets a young girl amidst a game of poker. What would happen if he threw all his chips and gambled his love for you?

Warning: Mafia!Boss!Leon x Female!Reader. Eventual smut. Slow burn. Romantic. Leon is a gentleman. Characters are 21+ (plot wise). Researched topics. Mentions of violence. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 6,142

A/N: I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing this🤭 holy shit I’ve never written something so damn corny before… I LOVE IT TEEHEE. Ugh I love me some good fluff.

[I][III]

“I gave a second chance to Cupid, but now I'm left here feelin' stupid. Oh, the way he makes me feel that love isn't real. Cupid is so dumb,” - Cupid (Twin Ver.), Fifty Fifty

When Saturday arrived, you dressed yourself in a formal dress. You could only assume he’d want me to dress fancy since he always seemed to wear a suit. You didn’t think you’ve ever see him wear something casual.

The clock marked seven and you patiently waited in your room. You wore a black skin tight dress that reached your knees. It wasn’t from the most luxurious and high brand but it was still quite beautiful. The sleeves were actually a cape draped over your shoulders in a thin sheet of mesh fabric. Even your heels matched your dress. You’ve never been one to dress immodest on the first date. Your hair was done tied down and your makeup was light but not too boring. Everything looked just right.

Leon leaned against his car, his eyes focused on the door of your apartment building. He had been there for a while now, waiting patiently. He was dressed in one of his nicer suits, this one a deep navy blue. Although he didn’t bother to wear his signature red scarf or gloves.

He glanced at his watch, it was a minute before seven. He pushed himself away from his car, his eyes never straying from your door. He’d known Mafia Bosses who had to be punctual at all times, and now, it was a habit.

The neighborhood your apartment was in was on the side of the working class. You didn’t live in the richest part of town so his car stood out like a sore thumb.

Leon suppressed a sigh as he checked his watch again. Seven o’clock, on the dot. He started walking towards the door, his steps slow but steady. When he finally stood in front of your door, he took a moment to straighten his suit before raising his hand to knock, his knuckles rapping against the door three times.

He could already imagine your flustered reaction to seeing him again. He almost smiled at the thought, but his expression remained neutral, his face a stony mask. He waited.

Upon hearing the sounds of the knocking, you quickly made your way to the front door and opened to find Leon dressed so formally. He looked really good, your breath hitched and your heart skipped a beat.

“Leon,” you said with a soft smile, “You made it.”

Leon’s eyes roamed over you as you opened the door, taking in your appearance. The light makeup, the black dress, the tied-up hair, everything about you looked absolutely perfect. He couldn’t help but think that you looked even prettier than the last time he saw you.

He returned your smile with a small one of his own, his eyes softening slightly at the sight of you.

"Of course I did," he said, his gaze never leaving yours, "I said I would, didn’t I?"

He was so gentle, like an innocent lotus that blooms above water. Hence why you couldn’t help the smile you had, “You did,” you whispered as you maintained his eye contact.

You closed the door behind you and walked down the steps to stand in front of him. Even with heels he stood above your height.

“You look very handsome,” you complimented as you gestured for his own outfit. His suit seemed rich and expensive, made with only the best craftsman. Leon’s eyes darkened slightly at your compliment, a small smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. He was used to compliments, but coming from you… it was different. It sent a flutter through his chest, something he wasn’t used to feeling.

"You're one to talk," he replied, his gaze roaming over your figure again, "You look absolutely stunning."

He extended his arm out towards you, his gesture a silent invitation as he waited for you to take it.

His words were sincere, no lie detected. As if he was truly honest, why would he lie to a woman? He didn’t seem the type to try and hook up on the first date. He had manners and etiquette. You gently wrapped your hand around his bicep as he offered his arm to you. You’ve only ever seen this in movies, you didn’t think people still did it in real life.

“Thank you,” you replied softly, staring up at him as the lights from the stars above you twinkled in your eyes. Leon felt the warmth of your touch on his arm, the way your fingers wrapped around the material of his suit. It was a simple touch, but it already felt too intimate. He knew this was dangerous terrain, getting close to you like this, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He didn’t miss the way your eyes met his, a warm sparkle in them as the reflection of the stars danced across them. You looked almost enchanted by him, like a doe staring up at a wolf.

But Leon was no wolf. He was so much more dangerous than that.

Leon led you to his car, his arm still intertwined with yours. His steps were steady, his gaze focused on guiding you to the vehicle. The night was cool and yet, he wasn’t even paying attention to the cold.

His mind was occupied with other things, specifically the thought of how to keep your attention on him. Most of the women he’d dated before didn’t stay for long. He figured they were only interested in his money.

But you were different. It somehow felt like you were truly interested in getting to know him, and not his bank account.

When you neared his car, he actually held the door open for you until you sat down and closed it. Such manners! As he began to drive, you couldn’t help but marvel at his car. Even the interior looked expensive, “Nice car,” you commented softly.

Leon gave you a small shrug, slightly amused by your compliment. He was used to women swooning over his expensive assets, his cars, his houses.

But you didn’t do that. And it was refreshing to say the least.

"It's not bad," he agreed, his eyes on the road. He wasn’t looking at you, but he could still sense your gaze on him. He glanced over at you briefly, a small smirk on his lips.

"You’re not very impressed by the car, are you?" he asked bluntly.

Your cheeks flushed a bit and you shook my head, “I actually don’t know anything about cars,” you replied abashedly, “But I like it. It looks nice. Very comfy.”

Maybe he was used to hearing women compliment his assets and his bank account but you weren't used to such a lavish life so you didn’t know much. But it was all still impressive, not because of the price but because the car genuinely looked like it was taken good care of.

Leon chuckled softly at your answer, the sound low and warm. He could tell he managed to make you flustered again, a slight pink tinge on your cheeks that he found endearing.

"You’re the first woman I’ve met who didn’t swoon over the car instead of the man driving it," he said bluntly, his eyes on the road still.

He found it interesting, your lack of reaction to his worldly possessions. Most women, in his experience, fell over themselves just to ride in this car.

Okay maybe it was a bit weird reducing his car to just ‘comfy’ but it was fresh and real. It was an unexpected response but it seemed like he liked it.

You stared out the window, shaking your head once again, “Why would I put a car over a person?” You muttered before you glanced at him driving.

“A car won’t love me back. It won’t wipe my tears off my face,” you continued, “All it does it take from point A to point B. Why would I choose a car over someone?”

Leon's eyes left the road briefly to look at you, his expression unreadable. Your answer seemed simple and honest, genuine even. Most of the women he’d met cared about how much he could spoil them. They wanted fancy jewelry, expensive clothes. They never cared about the little things, the soft spoken words and the caring touches.

"That makes sense," he replied softly, his eyes focusing back on the road.

“In any case,” you muttered, unaware of how your words affected him for the better. You, in fact, did care about the little things. The lingering touches, the stolen glances—you lived for all of that.

“I think if you love someone,” you continued, staring at the road in front of you, “You understand them. You don’t lust after them, you don’t judge them, and you don’t compare them. To love someone, is to love so innocently but also very intimate in the sense that it isn’t sexual.”

“No car can replicate that type of love,” you whispered and glanced at him. Maybe you were being a bit indirectly forward, but you wanted him to know that you didn’t care if he was the richest man on earth or the poorest man, it was his morals and values that mattered.

Leon’s fingers tightened their grip on the steering wheel as he listened to your words. Your explanation of love was sweet, pure. It was almost like hearing a child’s view on the world, innocent and untainted.

It was so far from his own views on love. Love was a weakness, a risk that only ended in more pain and hurt. He had seen it many times, how people would do horrible things, all in the name of love.

But hearing your idealistic explanation of love… it sounded almost alien to him.

Your words felt almost like a revelation to him, a realization that love was supposed to be innocent, and intimate, and so much more than just material things.

He took a deep, steady breath, his mind quietly processing your words, the way they seemed to touch a part of him he thought was long gone.

"You have a way with words," he said, his voice laced with a hint of admiration.

A shy smirk reached your lips and you looked down at your hands on your lap, “Not really,” you muttered, “I just really like to read romance.”

“I’ve read Anna Karerina, Lorna Doone, and Forever Amber,” you listed softly. You loved romance novels, reading about predestined love and star crossed lovers often resulting in a battle of emotions was all so interesting to you.

Leon's gaze briefly flickered towards you, a hint of amusement in his eyes. It was endearing, your passion for romance. It was almost cute.

"Ah, a romantic at heart," he commented, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, "I've heard of those books. Bit tragic, aren’t they?"

He remembered the brief details he’d heard about those stories, tales of love, passion and despair. It all seemed a bit cliché.

“Yes,” you agreed, “It is tragic but what is love if there aren’t consequences? The true enemy of love is not hatred, it’s indifference and doubt.”

“I like to think that love is a double edged sword, a line so thin that divides happiness and depression. It’s our choices that make that sword tilt either side,” you commented quietly.

Leon’s grip on the steering wheel tightened even further at your words. They were deep and profound, making him think of things he’d never pondered before.

“And what happens when that sword tilts the wrong way?” he asked, his voice a little cold.

He'd seen the darker side of love, the way it could make people do things they'd never thought they were capable of. He'd never been a stranger to that kind of love. The kind of love that consumed and destroyed.

“Then you let it tilt until it’s back straight. It’s a rotation, a cycle. Eventually… love will be the right way,” you said.

“Love can destroy and create, not so different from a god. You can create to destroy or you can destroy to create. You can hate to love or love to hate. But in the end, it’ll always be there,” But your view on love wasn’t all happy, it wasn’t all sad either. You’d like to think you had a balance of understanding the good and bad about the subject of love.

Leon chuckled darkly, a bitter, almost sarcastic sound. The cycle of love you described was something he had never believed in.

"Love can’t just fix itself," he replied, "Once it's destroyed something, it can never bring it back. Nothing can."

You smiled and looked at him, “Sure it can,” you replied, “Love *can* be fixed as it can fix others.”

“It’s everywhere. It’s in the trees, in the sea, in our blood—love exists and it hasn’t died. It can’t die. If there is no love, what will there be?” You said softly, “There will be people that hurt you and no matter how much love you give them, it’ll never be enough.”

“But that doesn’t make it the end of the world. It’s a temporary wound in your heart that feels too deep to heal but like all injuries… it slowly heals. Love is time. And you have time to love,” you muttered softly, still staring at him, “And with the right person, you’ll learn,” you said as you hesitantly rested your hand on his shoulder. Leon didn't look at you, his gaze stayed forward, watching the road. But he could feel the lingering touch of your hand on his shoulder, a stark contrast to his cold demeanor.

"You speak so kindly of love," he said softly, his demeanor softening, "As if it hasn't hurt you before."

He was softening, it’s like he couldn’t stay mad forever. “It has,” you whispered, squeezing his shoulder and giving him a small smile, “But I’ve learned to accept that the pain wasn’t just a setback. It was a step for the future.”

Leon's expression softened ever so slightly as you squeezed his shoulder and smiled at him. Your words, your optimism, it made him feel almost guilty for his cold demeanor.

He inhaled a breath, his body relaxing a little. You were a rare one, he had to admit that. In his line of work, he never encountered people like you, who spoke of love with such gentle wisdom.

As you neared the restaurant, it was busy with late night goers. People dressed in nothing but their bestest dresses and suits. It was quite fancy.

-

You had been sitting at your table that he had reserved, spending the time talking about your interests and telling stories. You don’t think you’ve ever laughed as much as you did tonight. He was funny, charismatic, kind, and patient. It was like he had cracked your introverted shell.

Leon's eyes lingered on you as you laughed, a small, warm smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You looked cute when you laughed, he had to admit. He was enjoying your company more than he thought he would. It wasn't just mindless banter, there was an ease in their conversation that he wasn't used to.

Leon raised his glass of wine, silently gesturing for yours to clink against.

"To a lovely evening," he said, his gaze never leaving yours.

You raised your glass of wine and clinked it against his with a smile, “To a lovely date,” you added before you sipped my glass. Once you put my glass down, you sighed softly and looked at him, “Thank you for this date. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy before on a first date,” you said with a small laugh.

The corner of Leon's mouth twitched into a small smile again as you thanked him. He was glad to see that you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.

He took a drink from his glass as well, his eyes still studying you, studying that beautiful smile on your face.

"No need to thank me," he said softly, setting his glass down as well. "This night is just as much for me as it is for you."

You leaned forward and rested your arms on the table, “Are you always such a gentleman?” You inquired with interest, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you act differently.”

"Perhaps," he replied, his gaze fixed on you, "I've always been taught to treat women with respect."

“It’s nice,” you whispered with a smile, your cheeks pink from drinking wine, “It’s way better than what modern dating is.”

"Modern dating?" he repeated, arching a brow, "Not into that whole 'Netflix and chill' nonsense?"

You chuckled and shook your head, “Oh, god, no!” You said as you rested your elbows on the table, your chin resting on the palm of your hand, “That’s like asking someone if you want to have sex. And I don’t do it like that.”

“I’d never ask anyone if they want to ‘Netflix and Chill’,” you muttered, “If anyone said that to me, I’d think they were a walking red flag.”

Leon chuckled at your reaction and shook his head as well. It was refreshing to meet someone who wasn't into the casual 'Netflix and chill' culture.

"I'm inclined to agree with you there," he commented, a hint of amusement in his voice, "It's a little too shallow for my taste. I prefer spending time getting to know someone before... well, anything else."

He took a sip of his wine, his gaze still on you, studying your expression. There was something so genuine about you. It was quite rare in his usual line of work.

“I agree with you on that,” you muttered softly as you watched him sip his wine, “I prefer to love than to lust.”

Leon's eyes widened ever so slightly at your words. Your honesty and your perspective on love and lust were a breath of fresh air.

"Love rather than lust, huh?" he replied, his voice almost a whisper. He set his glass of wine back down on the table.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table, his gaze intense and focused on you, "Quite a profound way of looking at things," he added, a hint of intrigue in his tone.

“Well, yes,” you said, you could feel yourself enter a state of rambling. Of digressing, if you will, “Everyone is so obsessed with instant gratification that we often forget that the process to reach that state is far more rewarding than the feeling itself.”

“It is like walking up the steps of a mountain and your only goal is to get to the other but in order to get to the other side, you must take calculated steps otherwise you’ll slip and fall. And that’s what life is about. To slip and fall but to also pick yourself up in order to achieve a goal, whether it is eternal happiness or a momentous fleet of bliss, the process in which we get there feels more satisfying than the actual feeling of being at the top that can only last a few seconds,” you rambled.

“Love is cherishing all the moments in which led you to be where you are. If we don’t appreciate what we have, someone else will,” then, your cheeks turned a bit pink as you realized you rambled, “Sorry. I went on a tangent there,” you said with a small and awkward laugh.

Leon simply sat back in his chair, a small smile playing at his lips as you spoke. He found himself listening intently to every word you said, captivated by your passion and eloquence.

"Don't apologize," he said, the hint of a smirk on his lips, "I find it endearing when you get carried away like that. You're quite the deep thinker. I like that."

You chuckled softly and nodded once more. You were indeed a deep thinker, a philosopher at heart. Everything that dealt with life, you loved to hear about.

“I just have a lot of thoughts in my mind,” you muttered quietly, “What about you?” You asked suddenly.

“What do you like to do?” You asked as you tilted your head slightly to the side, almost curiously.

Leon chuckled at your question. It was only fair that he be asked about himself. He took a moment to think before responding.

"What do I like to do?" he echoed, a hint of amusement in his voice, "Well, I'm a man of many interests. I enjoy reading, going to nice restaurants, taking walks... and gambling."

He paused, a sly grin slowly spreading across his face, "And you know I'm a pretty damn good poker player."

You rolled your eyes despite your lips curling into a smile, you weren’t all truly annoyed. He was a really good player that beat various times whenever you played for the first time together. The one where you met.

“Yes,” you nodded your head slightly and sat back, crossing one of your legs over the other, “You are a good player. I’m still grateful you forgave what I owed you after the rounds.”

"You know I have a soft spot for pretty girls," he said with a small chuckle, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

He reached across the table and gently patted the top of your hand, his gesture both affectionate and reassuring.

"It wasn't a big deal," he continued, his expression growing serious again, "Besides, I knew you weren't just some rich kid wasting your parents' money. That you were being responsible."

Your face softened and you didn’t move your hand away, the action seemingly affectionate and it warmed your heart. He was so gentle, wasn’t he?

“Just thought of spending a few dollars hoping I’d get more, but I learned my lesson,” you whispered before your hand hesitated a bit. You turned your hand over, essentially putting your palm up against his palm.

Your heart was beating fast, just the simple touch from his hand was enough to set your heart ablaze, “I’d never spend my parents’ money… you’re right on that,” you added, your voice quieter as you stared down at your hands together. Leon's eyes flickered down to where your hands met on the table and lingered there for a moment. He inhaled a tiny breath, his mind momentarily distracted by the feel of your skin against his.

The touch was simple, but in his line of work, he'd nearly forgotten the sweetness of physical affection. He gently curled his fingers over yours, holding your hand in a firm but gentle grip.

The touch was gentle, intimate, and tender. A softness of the warmth shared between you as your fingers gently played across his hand, your thumb rubbing his skin in a setting to wake a trail of warmth.

You didn’t know what took over you to do that but for some reason it felt natural. As if you were meant to hold him like a dream. That’s what he was, a dream personified right before you.

Your eyes drifted from your hands back to his eyes, watching as the dim and orange light of the restaurant play across his features in a harmonious and seraphic light. As your gazes met again, he couldn't help but be entranced by the way the soft candlelight from the restaurant played across your features. It was as if they were crafted to perfectly fit the curves of your face, enhancing your natural beauty.

His thumb gently returned the gesture, rubbing against the base of your hand. A silent, gentle agreement.

Unspoken words and unanswered questions lingered but for now, you’d just enjoy the company of each other. As the date progressed, the night became darker and the restaurant slowly became lone.

After paying, you walked out of the said place and strolled through the sidewalk as you made your way to his car. In the middle of crossing a bridge, the moon’s light reflected on the water beneath you, a shine so bright that you had to stop by the railing and stare at the full moon. Leon's footsteps slowed to a stop as you paused to stare at the moon. He stood beside you, leaning against the railing, his gaze fixated on your face as you looked out at the reflection of the moon shimmering on the water below.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked quietly as you kept your eyes on the moon, a soft breeze blowing by you two.

He glanced up for a moment, taking in the sight of the full moon in the inky black night sky, "It is," he agreed quietly. But as he looked back at you, he found himself thinking that there was a sight even more beautiful right in front of him.

You didn’t even notice his lingering gaze, eyes spoke so many volumes. It’s what makes humans vulnerable, the eyes never lie.

You stood there for what felt like an hour but really it was just a couple of minutes. Your skin chilled with goosebumps as the night breeze brushed over you, once again reprimanding yourself for being cold.

It was a pattern, huh? You being cold and him bringing you warmth. A balance between you. The irony didn't escape him. In any other circumstance, he would consider himself the colder one, and yet, standing beside you right now, in this moment, he could only think of you as the warm one.

He shrugged, then, without missing a beat, he gently draped his coat around your shoulders, the warmth from his body transferring to the fabric.

A smile plastered on your face as you felt the fabric with an all too familiar scent of his cologne. One that you didn’t even realize you had missed so much.

“Thank you for tonight,” you muttered softly, bringing his coat closer to your body, “It’s one of the best dates I’ve ever been on.”

He nodded his head in response, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips, "It was my pleasure," he replied, his tone genuine.

He paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on you once more, "And in all honesty," he continued, "I had a good time as well. I hope there'll be more nights like this soon."

You nodded and your smile widened, just the thought of seeing him again on a night like this made your insides flutter with joy and excitement. A candid and innocent feeling.

“Yes, I hope so too,” you muttered and stared up at him. It was just the two of you, standing under the moonlight as the sound of water splashed underneath you from below the bridge. Leon couldn't help but smile softly. Your expression was full of innocent excitement, your eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

The sound of water below you two and the soft sounds of the night's insects and the rustle of leaves echoed in the air around you, but all he could focus on was you. You, standing there with his coat draped around your shoulders. You, who, in that moment, seemed more beautiful than ever.

His heart skipped a beat in his chest, and he couldn't help but reach out and gently cup your cheek in his hand.

Your breath hitched, his touch was that of a soft caress. Of an artist admiring their piece of art that had been inspired by their muse. To which in this case, he was the artist and you were his muse.

The night ended perfectly. You had gone to his car to take you back home, although you didn’t really want to leave him just yet. The night felt young but you didn’t want to be selfish and greedy. The drive back to your apartment was quiet and peaceful. There wasn't an ounce of awkwardness, just the comfort of each other's presence. Even as Leon parked the car in front of your home, a part of him wished the night could have lasted just a little longer.

“This is it,” you whispered as you remained sitting in his car while he parked in front of your apartment. You didn’t want to say goodbye, what if you didn’t see him again?

He turned off the engine and turned to you, watching as you spoke the words neither of them wanted to say.

"I guess it is," he replied quietly, his thumb absentmindedly tracing circles against the steering wheel.

You took off his coat and gently placed it in the cupholder separating our seats. Then, you glanced at him. Goodbyes weren’t easy when you didn’t know if you’d see each other again.

A thought occurred to you, you rummaged through your purse and pulled out a small piece of napkin, which had your lipstick stain on it, along with a pen. You wrote your number on the piece of napkin and then handed it to him, but not before you stole a kiss on his cheek. Leon's breath caught in his throat as he felt the surprise kiss against his cheek, the heat of your lips sending a shiver down his spine.

“Call me soon,” you whispered as you stepped out of the car, rather anxiously and a bit hastily. He took the napkin, his gaze flickering to the numbers written on it. He held it in his hand, almost like a lifeline, watching as you stepped out of the car.

"I will," he called out, a hint of something in his voice, as if he was reluctant to let you leave, "I'll call you soon," he repeated, a promise, an assurance to you, and himself.

As soon as you entered your home and closed the door behind you, you let out a breath you had been holding in after kissing his cheek. It was bold for you and it probably caught him off guard but you didn’t regret it one bit.

You felt your heart quicken, now that he had your number, you can definitely keep seeing each other more often. All was not lost tonight.

Leon sat in his car for a moment longer, staring down at the napkin holding your number with your faded lipstick kiss next to it. His mind was racing, his heart still thudding against his chest.

Your kiss was bold, unexpected, yet it sent a spark through him that he hadn't felt in so long. It was like a promise, a declaration that something had shifted.

He folded the napkin and put it in his pocket, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He started his car, heading back home with one thing in his mind. Soon, he'll call you. Soon.

-

For a couple weeks, you’ve gone out on more dates. Dinner dates, walks along the beach, even taking you to a carnival. He was always such a gentleman; holding the door open, carrying you in his arms bridal style if your feet ached from your heels, always stubbornly paying for your food.

And you had no say in anything, he was assertive but gentle. As if he only wanted to take care of you and not make you work or move a muscle. You didn’t mind, of course, but you always made sure to offer to pay for dates (even if it made him reprimand you).

For the first time in my life, you felt happy. Genuinely happy. He was everything, the only reason you woke up all happy was because of him. You were no longer your old self, he converted you into this happier version that you didn’t know you could be.

“Eyes locked on the target, Sir.”

“Good, go on right ahead, bring the captive alive.”

The worst thing imaginable had happened. A man broke into your house, the window crashed and you left your room to investigate.

When you made it to your living room, a figure from behind you suddenly pressed a piece of cloth right under your nose, forcing you to inhale whatever was on that.

Your vision blurred and you slowly felt your body become weak and disoriented. The man kept his grip around your arm tightly, preventing you from moving. When you had finally passed out, he gently laid you down on the floor to communicate with another person.

“Target acquired, returning back to base,” the man said before he picked up your body and threw it over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

-

Leon was slowly falling hard for you. Seeing you happy, laughing, smiling was becoming an addiction for him. Every passing day that he spent with you, he found himself getting more and more attached.

He would do anything for you, pay for everything, pamper you, as long as you were happy and content. Seeing you smile because of him, brought him more joy than anything in the world.

He was falling in love, even if he didn’t quite realize it yet. His heart belonged to you now, whether he admitted it or not.

“Boss,” the voice of a man rang out in Leon’s office. As he had gone on dates with you, he didn’t neglect his duties as the mafia lord.

“Kyle was found dead in the casino. The arms case was missing as well,” he said to Leon. But it wasn’t just a random death. No, it was the act of an enemy mafia group just from the other side of the city. One that had many times tried to assassinate Leon and take over his empire.

Leon's expression darkened as he listened to his underling's report. The news of Kyle's death and the missing arms case was nothing but a nuisance, but the fact that his enemy mafia was behind this bothered him even more.

"Damn it," he muttered, his fists clenching at his sides, “Those bastards are getting bold."

He pushed himself up from his chair, his gaze hardening as he listened to his underling, "Any leads?"

The man shook his head, “No, sir. The body was missing so we couldn’t find the cause of death. But we found a card with the initials of Santo 'The Suit' De Lucchi.”

Santo ‘The Suit’ De Lucchi was a long time enemy of Leon. He was the man that had been targeting Leon ever since he became a Mafia boss. Santo was given the nickname ‘The Suit’ because he always played a tricky game.

He was obsessed with card decks, often always leaving behind a suit card on a bloody crime scene after murdering his own enemies. He’d leave the four types of cards behind depending on the message he tried to convey. This time, he had left an 8 of Spades card, meaning that he had a powerful group of men at the ready.

Leon's jaw tensed at the mention of the name. Santo 'The Suit' De Lucchi. He knew that name all too well, and it was never for a good reason.

The mention of the 8 of Spades card made his eyes narrow. It was a warning, a declaration of war. And it was personal.

"How nice of The Suit to leave a calling card," Leon said, his voice laced with anger. "He really wants my attention, doesn't he?"

“What do you want us to do, boss?” The underling asked Leon. War between mafias wasn't uncommon. Almost everyday, there were news of men found dead in the streets from crime and mafia activities. But to prevent panic among the citizens, the police simply said they were civilian disputes. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Leon paused for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts and plans.

"I want you to gather more information about his men, his operations, his every move," Leon ordered, his voice sharp and commanding, "But more importantly, I want to know why he's making a move now. This isn't just some petty feud, it's a message."

Leon's eyes narrowed as he thought, "He's playing a game, and I need to be ten steps ahead if I want to win it."

“On it, boss,” the underling then left Leon’s office, leaving him alone to think to himself.

It was suspicious how The Suit made a move now after years of feuding with Leon. What changed? Who was their next target? The Suit wasn’t going to stop there, no, he won’t. It would only be a matter of time before he went after something Leon cared so deeply about.

As the door closed behind his underling, Leon let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair.

He knew The Suit’s next move wouldn’t be a direct attack at him, no, that was too risky for someone like The Suit. He’d want to hit Leon where it hurt the most.

Leon’s thoughts immediately turned to you. His chest tightened at the idea of you being hurt, being targeted somehow. He had to make sure you were safe. Protected.

[strawberryspence]

Because I am obsessed with the famous trope here’s another one that kept me up all night.

Steve and Eddie dated right after Vecna in ‘86 and it’s perfect. They date each other and it’s like two puzzles clicking together. But they’re young, foolish and they both have mountains of trauma. And sometimes, the passion and love, just isn’t enough to keep a relationship going.

They have a messy break up that has Eddie packing all his stuff up in ‘88. Eddie goes to LA or New York, either way that’s where he gets discovered. He then goes on to write some very angsty and angry rock/metal music about the break-up that gets him up on the map.

Steve hates it. He hates it with every fibre of his soul because it’s one thing when you and you ex still have the same friends and have to be civil with each other, but it’s a whole other thing when you open the radio and this man you dated, this man you loved and cared for and failed is just out here singing it for the whole world to hear.

And yeah listen, it’s petty and dumb. But Steve writes his own fucking songs, it’s not the direct response to Eddie’s song but it’s close. By that time it’s already ‘90 and Eddie’s made a whole name and career out of their relationship. Steve writes the songs, he sings, and he sends the damn demo to almost fifty different companies. And he gets picked up by one company.

Steve takes the pop star route, and with his looks and his somehow amazing vocals, by ‘94 Steve’s on the charts with Whitney and Mariah. The whole Party has solemnly promised to not get involved with their petty songwriting fighting anymore. They also haven’t spoken in person in almost six years, and the only way they communicate now is through the freaking songs.

There’s not a lot of overlap with the rock and pop community, and no one notices it until ‘05. It’s one fan that makes this one blog post talking about this weird freaky coincidence in Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson’s songs. It becomes a whole thing, like someone from Hawkins pulls out the yearbooks and finds out that they could’ve known each other. Their faces are splashed together into every magazine and celebrity entertainment shows.

They don’t say anything about it. No one comments about it for a few years and it infuriates the public even more. The next time Steve comes out with a song, Eddie comes out with another song a few months after and it’s once again a literal conversation about their relationship.

The whole thing continues until ‘11 and by then there’s blog dedicated for all the clues. It’s now a long running thread, and it gets updated when there’s another clue to this massive confusing puzzle. There’s a whole subsection with names of every Party member and how they connect the two artists together. There’s freaking flow charts and pictures and family trees.

It only ends when Eddie finally posts two pictures on Twitter. The first one is taken backstage. All you can see is Steve’s back, but you will know it’s him because of his hair. He’s standing at the side of the stage, and on the stage is Eddie Munson singing. The second one is a picture of Eddie sitting in a couch as Steve looms over him, hands crossed on his chest. Eddie’s signing his own album with a smirk, while Steve glares at him. If you zoom, you can see the sign on the album saying, “To Steve. This album is for you.”

The caption says: “Me and my biggest fan. Circa 2004.”

Steve replies to the original post saying: “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Eddie deletes the post and reposts it with: “Me and my wonderful, gorgeous, talented husband. I can’t believe I am married to THE Steve Harrington.”

It’s the first time the term “break the internet” is ever used.

Turns out, they were just writing the songs to spite each other and to add fuel to the fandom fire. (In an interview, Eddie says, “It’s our foreplay.” and Steve doesn’t talk to him for a solid 30 minutes for running his mouth. It only lasts for 30 minutes because Eddie made it up to him by using his mouth for something else.)

[doumadono]

Sinful Sunday: the thought of Bakugo just fingering you whilst you're on a loong journey somewhere is forever making itself prominent in my mind 🤤 he’s just rubbing at your clit and not letting you cum until he gives permission 😭

Oh my, darling! 😳 Thank you for your wonderfully sinful idea! I couldn't resist the urge to write a short fic about our explosive boy. I firmly believe he's an embodient of promiscuity 😏

SINFUL SUNDAY

The air inside the bus is unbearably hot and stale, and you rest your arm against the window, thankful for having a seat while others struggle to find standing room. As you make a stop, an elderly lady vacates the seat next to you, and in the blink of an eye, someone else takes her place. You don't pay much heed to my fellow passenger; instead, you gaze out the window, daydreaming about the refreshing coolness of tap water waiting for you at home, just another fifty minutes away.

The heat is becoming a bit too much for you, and you're keen to avoid breaking a sweat. Thankfully, you just now notice that the upper part of the bus window is adjustable. As soon as this realization dawns on you, you extend your hand to grasp the handle.

Suddenly, an arm shoots up from the seat beside you. "Here, let me help with that," the man sitting next to you offers, and with a single, determined pull, he manages to open the stubborn window, allowing the refreshing breeze to caress your face.

"Thank you," you gratefully respond.

You stare at him, finally registering his features. His intense, crimson-red eyes are piercing and reflect his determination and strong-willed nature. He boasts a well-defined, muscular physique. His ash blond hair, spiky and untamed, adds to his demeanor.

Your eyes widen as he begins to lazily and casually stroke your thigh, his fingers coaxing the fabric of your summer dress upward beneath his touch. Swiftly, you reach down, attempting to push his hand away or, at the very least, halt its progress. However, he persists, increasing the pressure when you make an effort to remove his hand. "Could you please stop that?" You whisper, frustration evident in your tone, but his smile remains unyielding.

Finally, his hand comes to rest on the bare skin of your thigh. "Don't make a scene over nothing, dear," he retorts, a light chuckle escaping his lips. The unsettling innocence in his tone causes you to recoil at the endearment. "My only intention is to bring us both comfort. Isn't this heat insufferable? Allow me to help ya, dumbass."

His words come deliberately, almost tauntingly, and you surprise yourself by listening intently, though your trust in him remains guarded. As he speaks, his damned hand inches up your thigh, his fingertips lightly grazing the edge of your lacy panties. On pure instinct, you squeeze your legs together, determined to thwart his advances. The realization suddenly strikes you that you're in a public place, and the thought of anyone witnessing his inappropriate touch sends a surge of panic mingled with a glimmer of hope coursing through me. You dart your gaze around, scanning the surroundings, only to be met with a sea of oblivious backs.

"Don't fret, dumbass," the man seated beside you soothes, his touch persisting against your panties. "No one will take notice. We're way at the back of the bus, and I'm a pro hero, so you're safe."

You can't help but scoff at his claim of being a pro hero, considering the situation. "You're a pro hero, huh?" You retort with a skeptical edge in your voice, your resistance to his advances growing stronger. "Some hero you are, causing trouble like this in public."

He chuckles lowly, a condescending smile playing on his lips as he leaned in closer. "You must be quite the idiot or completely out of touch with media if you don't recognize Bakugo Katsuki himself," he quips, his tone dripping with smugness as he stretches his back a little.

Only then you realize who he truly is, and blush creeps on your cheeks. "Shit."

You catch your breath, a hushed gasp escaping you as you feel his calloused hand slip beneath your panties, his middle finger immediately finding its way to your clit. Your fingers clasp around his arm, trembling as you vigorously shake your head.

He winks and continues to explore between your legs, his fingers insistent as they glide along your already slick folds.

His caresses gradually transform into determined rubbing, and your stomach churns with embarrassment as you become acutely aware of your body's response. You're growing increasingly aroused, a fact that only heightens your internal turmoil.

"You look quite cute when you blush," he murmurs. His middle finger presses against your entrance, and all you can do is gasp.

With slow determination, Bakugo pushes his finger into you, whispering warmly, "Enjoy it, little girl. Let me make you feel good."

A violent shiver of pleasure runs through your body when he reaches inside you, struggling against your tight, resisting pussy and building his strokes into a tauntingly slow pace.

His finger moves with attentiveness that is almost kind, with each stroke pressing a little deeper, exploring his prize. You focus on the waves of warm, pure ecstasy that travel through your unwilling body, and you feel ashamed and weak. A second finger joins the first, and without delay, a third finger follows suit, causing his thrusts to become painful. You let out an uncomfortable whimper, trying to wiggle away from his touch.

"That's right," Katsuki says hungrily, his breathing heavier than before. He slides closer to you, his body presses against yours, trapping you between the window and him. His hand is picking up pace, rocking your lower body, stretching your little pussy painfully as he thrusts his thick fingers into your cunny.

You whimper weakly and his breath brushes against your face when he says, "Look at me, doll. I want you to look at me."

You open your eyes. Bakugo's face is awfully close to yours now, and you feel frightened of the greedy lustful glint in his eyes as he licks his lips. The awful reality of the scandalous scene hits you again as you stare at his handsome face while his hand pounds into your dripping pussy. You become aware of the quiet wet sounds coming from down there, and you steal a glance down at your pussy and almost cry out as at the same time he presses his thumb masterfully on your swollen clit.

Your body starts to shiver with new unfamiliar but amazing waves of pleasure, and you feel something quickly building up inside you, waiting to be released with unbearable urgency. What would have been a moan is muffled by pro hero's lips when you're nearing your orgasm.

His skillful tongue is exploring your mouth as he retreats his hand befre you can reach your climax.

You gaps loudly as he breaks the kiss. "W-What… Why did you…"

"Stop?" He grinns at you, bringing his digits to his lips to lick them clean. "I thought you weren't thrilled with my little stunt? And let me tell ya, dumbass, you're fucking delicious," Bakugo quipped, rising from his seat. "Anyhow, this is my stop. Until tomorrow, doll."

As the bus came to a halt, he departed without a single backward glance in your direction.

You're acutely aware that you board this bus nearly every day to commute back home from work.

[marvel-ous-m]

Eddie Munson’s Guide for How to Adopt a Jock in Four Easy Steps (2/5)

Part One 

Part Three

A.N.: Um... guys, WHAT?! The outpouring of love and support for a blurb I had sitting in my Notes app for the last two months has been absolutely wild. I’ve been writing for the better part of the last day, and this is now a ~7k, five chapter fic that I will be posting to Tumblr as well as my AO3. I can’t thank y’all enough for all of the support, and I hope you like where this is heading! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

After Steve finished ranting about the middle schoolers he spent time with, Eddie launched into a description of the campaign he was working on for Hellfire. Steve listened intently as Eddie spoke, slowly making his way through Eddie’s sandwich and the bottle of water until both were finished. Eddie kept talking after Steve finished his food, distracting himself by going on a tangent about goblins in D&D. He was pulled from his rant at the sound of a soft thump- which, Eddie realized with surprise, was Steve’s forehead slumping down far enough to hit the tabletop. 

Steve sat up almost immediately when his head hit the table, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. 

Eddie snorted at Steve’s antics, piling his books together. “Damn Stevie, I didn’t realize I was that boring.” 

“Stevie?” Steve whispered under his breath, then shook his head, shooting a sheepish smile Eddie’s way. “You didn’t bore me- I liked it, really, I just-”

“Hey, Steve?” Eddie cut Steve off, smirking at him. “You don’t need to make excuses. No offense man, but you kinda look like shit, I can tell you haven’t been sleeping well. Speaking of which- why are you even here? You should probably be at home resting, not zombie-walking your way through a day of classes.”

Steve hummed at that, shrugging and resting his cheek on his palm. “S’better here than it is at home.”

Eddie frowned at that, his brow creasing. Steve had just told him a few minutes ago that his parents hadn’t been home in three months, and all of Hawkins knew he was the only child of the Harringtons. What was so bad about spending the day in a giant mansion that most definitely had central heating? Eddie would kill to spend these winter months in a house like that instead of under approximately fifty blankets (while somehow still freezing his ass off) in the trailer. 

Steve breathed out a small puff of air, and Eddie noticed that his eyes had slipped shut in the minute-or-so that Eddie had been distracted by his internal monologue. Shit, Steve was really exhausted. Eddie sighed and stood, quietly loading his books into his backpack. After zipping up his backpack and pulling it onto his shoulder, Eddie gently shook Steve’s shoulder, wincing sympathetically. The last thing he wanted to do was wake Steve up, but Mrs. Boliene would have a fit if she saw Steve like this.

He was definitely not expecting Steve to practically jump out of the chair, or for his breathing to suddenly grow erratic, in response to being woken up. There was something in his eyes- a kind of fear that Eddie could only associate to something he saw in Wayne’s eyes after waking his uncle from a particularly bad nightmare. 

Eddie held his hands up, taking a step back from Steve. “Hey- sorry, it’s just- Ms. Boliene can be kinda a bitch about people sleeping in the library. I know a place you can rest for a while if ya want. Let’s be honest, you probably aren’t going to be learning anything if you go to the rest of your classes today.” 

Steve clenched his right hand a couple times- Eddie would file that particular coping mechanism away to ask about later- then nodded, his breathing (mostly) back to a normal pace. “Sorry about that. Yeah man, whatever you say.”

Eddie nodded, let his arms drop, then cleared his throat. “Right, just go ahead and follow me, King Steve.” 

Steve sighed and stood with a wince, gathering the garbage from his (Eddie’s) lunch before following the other boy out of the library. He tossed the trash in the garbage bin outside the library then took a couple of long strides forward to catch up to Eddie. “Can you um- maybe, like… not call me that?”  

“Sure thing, Steve-o. Here, hang a right.” Eddie turned down a hallway and Steve followed, eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“That’s it?”

Eddie stopped walking when they reached the drama room door, shrugging. “Yeah man, that’s it. You don’t wanna be called something, I’m not gonna call you that. Nicknames are supposed to be fun, dude.” 

Steve nodded in understanding, but his brow was furrowed- he was clearly deep in thought. Eddie stood there a moment, waiting for Steve to say something. When it became apparent that the jock was going to keep his thoughts to himself, Eddie smiled tightly and opened the drama room door, walking past the gaggle of students sitting together and eating lunch at the front of the room. He ignored their stares and walked to the back of the room to a set of double doors, which he opened and then led Steve through. “This is where Hellfire meets. You can lay down in the corner over there on the couch cushions and blankets. I set that up last year for my mid-morning, skip-P.E. nap time.” 

Steve blinked in surprise, then turned to Eddie with a playful smirk. “Is that why you’re repeating this year? Slept through too much P.E.?”    

Eddie chuckled at that. Harrington had some sass to him, huh? “One of the many reasons. What can I say, getting sweaty for some dumbass P.E. teacher just doesn’t agree with me.” ‘There are much better things to get sweaty for’, a distant voice in Eddie’s head whispered. Eddie pushed that thought away, shaking his head at himself. Harrington was not the kind of guy to think those kinds of things around. 

Steve giggled to himself- honest to god giggled, it was quite possibly the best sound that Eddie had ever heard- then stepped into the room, taking in the variety of chairs surrounding the giant table and the various decorations on the walls. Suddenly, Steve’s playful smile disappeared, turning to a grimace. “Um, are you sure it’s okay for me to sleep here, Eds? Don’t you have Hellfire here later tonight? I wouldn’t want to intrude-” 

“Stevie, I promise it’s fine. You’ll probably be awake by the time we’re in here playing through the campaign anyways. Just don’t worry about it and get some rest, okay?” 

Steve nodded, walking to the corner and sitting down on the cushions. Eddie smiled reassuringly at him from his place at the doorway, then waved goodbye to Steve. “I’m off to English and Chem. I’ll be back in about two hours, but I could lock the doors in the meantime?” Eddie pulled a lanyard out of his pocket, grinning. “Perks of being club president. I’m the only one with a key other than the drama teacher, and he never comes in here. I just figured- maybe you would sleep better knowing that no one can get in? You would be able to get out, obviously, but- y’know what? Maybe this is creepy, pretend like I didn’t say anything-”

“-Thank you, Eddie. I… would appreciate that.” Steve cut off Eddie’s (admittedly awkward) rant and punctuated his request with a yawn, scrubbing a tired hand over his face. 

“Yeah, yeah of course dude, whatever you need.” Eddie stepped out and locked the door behind himself, then slumped his back against the door. Step One: Get Steve Harrington to Take Care of Himself, complete. Time for Step Two.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A.N.- tagging those who requested/insinuated a request, lmk if you’d like to be added/taken off the tag list.

@ellietheasexylibrarian @cuips-not-cute @melodymeddler @i-have-three-feelings @sc00ps-ahoy @singmeyoursimpsong @patchworkgargoyle @spectrum-spectre @devondespresso @thesuninyaface @obsessivlyme @angeldreamsoffanfic @carlyv @nburkhardt @inspirationorinsanity @rebelspykatie @my2amgaythoughts @lavenderagenda @just-a-tiny-void @mamafaithful @breadboi66 @beholdingloser @randomfandomcontent @oftirnanog @yellowdevilkitten @steves-strapcollection @keep-er-steddie

[emjiroki]

I couldn't contain myself, I had to write something for Reo. He's been plaguing me.

Nagi's stepsis! Reader x Reo (kinda enemies to lovers sort of)

Wordcount: 1k-ish

TW: Dubcon (Reo is a perv and a little selfish and a lot impulsive), explicit scenes and language, all characters over 21+, this wasn't rushed but written pretty quick cause my brain was working for once. Hope everyone enjoys 💕 likes, reblogs, and comments always appreciated.

Reo always acted like he hated you, couldn't stand that you were even on the planet, despite being the one to insist on staying at Nagi's place. Where he knew you would be. Nagi's pretty stepsister who, Reo claims, is the bane of his existence; always arguing with him and being pouty like the spoiled brat you were.Nagi had explained to him on the ride over that you were just staying with him for a bit as you finished up the last semester of university before you moved into an apartment with one of your friends; But how was he supposed to keep up the facade and act like he wanted nothing to do with you when you were flouncing around his best friends house every time he showed up, with your glossy lips and gorgeous eyes that begged him to fuck your throat till tears were spilling from them. He'd never admit it to anyone but his favorite piece of material in his spank bank was a picture of you at your birthday dinner last month, wearing the tight houndstooth pattern skirt he had bought for you and and looking absolutely gorgeous in it. Had he handed you the gift bag and barely uttered a happy birthday before heading off to the gym with Nagi? sure but it didn't mean he liked you. Just... begrudgingly tolerated you. Despite stroking his cock till it was nearly raw every night to thought of fucking you full of his cum and make you his girl.

○●○●

Reo had been trying and failing for the last hour to concentrate on the game him and Nagi were playing online with Yoichi and Hayoma; but the only thing in his mind was you and that whiney voice of yours. Bratty. Pleading with "Shiro-ni" to let you have the big tv in the living room to watch one of your dumb movies, despite having a perfectly good fifty inch flatscreen in the guest room you were staying in to use. Reo couldn't help the way his dick had jumped at your begging, his breath stuttering as all the blood in his brain rushed south. He wanted you whiney and begging for him, tone dripping with lust and brain full of nothing but him.

"Died again. Damn it" Nagi groaned rolling his eyes when he Chigiri taunted him over the headset, "what is up with you tonight?". It took a moment for Reo to realize Nagi was talking to him.

"Huh? Nothing, what's up with you?" He retorted, shifting uncomfortably in the beanbag as his cock throbbed and strained against his sweatpants, "been letting us get our asses kicked".

"Me? You're the one over there spacing out thinking about my sister". Reo's heart began hammering in his throat and he could feel his face heating.

"Oh god as if" He scoffed, rolling his eyes and breaking contact to look away, "She's so goddamn annoying".

"Right, I know you like her dude" Nagi said simply, getting up to switch his controller now that the battery had died before the next round.

"Whatever, Im gonna go piss I'll be back" Reo said, his jaw tight.

"Grab those chips we got at the convenience store earlier while your out there". Reo waved him off as he shut the door but he would grab them anyway. He didn't actually have to piss, he just wanted to leave the room and break the tension, Damn that white haired bastard for calling him out and being right.

Reo didn't see you when he walked out into the living room, the last twenty minutes of your movie still playing and setting the room in a bright glow. It wasn't until he got to the doorway of the kitchen that he saw you, sprawled out asleep on the couch, the throw blanket you had been using falling off onto the floor and leaving your shirt rucked up and short sleeps shorts on full display. He nearly swallowed his tongue when he realized you were wearing one of the T-shirts he had left over here, an old one from when he was in BlueLock. The sight of your soft skin with the cotton pulled up, knowing you most definitely were not wearing a bra underneath, had his blood running hot again; saliva pooling against his tongue and his cheeks burning like open flames. 'Chips, get the chips' He chided himself, turning his back and going to the cabinet to pull the bag out. But then he was in the doorway again, bag lightly gripped in his hand as he stood there a moment, just gazing at you and wondering about everything wrong with him. Everything inside him that was shuffling his feet forward to get a look under your loose shorts, just a look. He'd just pull them to the side real easy and you'd never even know. He was on his knees at the side of the couch, chip bag forgotten on the floor, feeling equal parts shame and excitement as he hooked his fingers beneath the soft material; feeling the lacy edges of your panties. You were so warm under his fingers and it made him throb to think about how wet you'd be, what you'd taste like. He bit back a groan as he let his mind wander for a moment, thinking about how sweet you would be against his tongue and how much he craved it. Craved it like a dog. He couldn't help the feelings of shame dissipating as the mental image of you spread bare and dripping for him broke the last of his restraint. It would only be a taste, just to quell the urge and allow him a little self indulgence. That wasn't wrong right?

Reo was still delicate as he moved your shorts and underwear to the side, not wanting to risk waking you by trying to take it all off, his bright purple eyes taking in every bit of skin he could see until he finally had your pretty pussy on display.

"God, angel just look at you" he murmured just below the volume of the tv, inching his face closer to your exposure until he brushed his nose against the wiry hairs at your mound. He was fulfilling every fantasy he had the moment he sucked your clit in against his tongue, running the slippery muscle up to nudged at the sensitive little bud before dipping down to taste at your entrance, your body tensing beneath his hand lightly on your hip. He couldn't get too greedy, not wanting to wake you but also so so desperate to make you cum so you'd drip against his tastebuds. He tried so hard to be gentle, delicate and light with his menstruations but the more of you he tasted, the drunker he became; vision growing hazy and his moans getting harder and harder to hold back. He was trying so hard not to buck his hips, to not cum in his pants like some inexperienced teenager, rolling and suckling your clit with his lips and tongue stimulating you so much your hips began to unconsciously chase his mouth anytime he attempted to pull away, which only drove him more crazy. You wanted him, you needed him,at least that's what his fuzzy brain was screaming. Craved him as much as he craved you for the first time and his animal brain wasn't about to let up and disappoint you. He needed you to cum for him, needed it like his lungs needed air, and any thought other than getting you to that high was irrelevant; his cock heavy and leaking through his underwear a distant thought. Drool was smearing from his lips against your puffy clit and the light rub of his teeth against your sensitivity had a breathy moan gracing his ears. Reo thought he had died and gone to heaven when he felt a hand card through his violet hair, and not that you had awoken when a desperate groan had spilled from his lips and vibrated against your pussy. He didn’t stop, trying in vain to gain his breath as his heart sat like a rock in his stomach and he was barely able to look up knowing that you would be looking at him.

"Reo?" you mumbled sleepily, pressing up against his fervent mouth even as uncertain butterflies burst through your stomach. You could practically feel the heat radiating off his face as he grunted a confirming sound, not able to tear himself away even as he gained the courage to flash his gaze up to you when you didn't push him away. The stars in his eyes were infectious, addicting in a way you weren't expecting as he looked at you; his pupils blown wide and expression pleading you not to reject him as he pressed closer to devour you and bring you to your high. You were a lot closer than you thought, the feeling of him spitting messily against your clit sending you over the edge with a cut off moan, your hand clamping over your mouth so as not to alert Nagi, your legs tensing around Reo's broad shoulders and shivers running up your spine. He eased back just as your toes uncurled, pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs and smearing your slick against your skin and across his chin. You giggled breathlessly, focusing on the feeling of his shallow breaths and the softness of his hair beneath your fingers.

"Reo, if you wanted me so bad all you had to do was say pretty please" You admitted quietly, watching as the purple haired man smirked and bit your flesh teasingly before shouldering his way past your thighs till your legs were around his waist and his lips were hovering over yours, the pussy drunk look on his face only sending heat to your core again. He kissed the corner of your lips and then your cheek before trailing down your throat to your pulse point, a shaky breath and groan fanning your skin.

"P-Pretty Please"

[bbsmuts]

Promiscuous ft. EVERGLOW Aisha

A/N: Thanks for 1k followers! I wrote this for an ask I got a good while ago, but decided to release it when I hit 1k. I’m doing it as a collab with a friend who prefers to stay anonymous. It’s amazing the results your mind will show when challenged by a pitch about a hot idol. Obviously, since I don’t write guy on guy stuff, Hongjoong and I aren’t going to be doing anything. This was suggested by someone through a private chat. Enjoy! 

-상훈

Length: 3.31k

Possible TW: Whipping, bondage

Tags: Spitroasting, threesome, bondage, whipping, humiliation, exhibitionism, throatfuck, cunnilingus

It was fairly late when I gave Yurim the call, but not late enough for it not to be immediately answered. “Sung-min?” “That’s me. You got plans for later?” Her voice became suddenly mischievous. “Yes, I have plans. Would you like to participate?”

“Hell yeah I do. What time?” “7:00. Feed yourself before you come, I haven’t got much here.” “Oh, I’m sure I’ll find tasty enough sustenance while I’m there.” I could hear the smirk in her voice as she said,       “Whatever. Be there at seven.” I still had two hours to wait, so I decided to kill some time at a bar with my friend Hongjoong. He was already waiting with a shot of soju in hand when I arrived there. “Hey, Sung-min, my man.” I sat down at the bar with a “Hey, Hongjoong” and ordered a takju. “Something wrong?” He asked nonchalantly, taking a small sip of his soju. “No.” I said, accepting my takju and pushing a small wad of bills at the bartender. “I’m going to meet Yurim later.” “Ohhhh. That makes more sense. You mean you’re going to fuck her later?” “Pretty much.” I took a sip of my takju. “You want to come along?” He thought about it for a moment. “What time? I can be there, but not before eight. I have some other plans.” “Yeah, that’ll work.” We continued drinking and talking for about an hour until I went back to my house to get a bite to eat. After whipping up some stir fry with beef chunks and wolfing it down, I got ready to go. Her house was about twenty minutes away, a mere blink of the eye when I was savoring fantasies about eating her out, having my cock deep down her throat, thrusting in and out of her tight pussy-      I arrived at her house shortly after, and I had barely touched the doorbell when the door was flung wide open. Yurim was wearing nothing but a black lace bra and a matching pair of panties, nicely showing off her curves, hips, and thighs. “Hey.” She said, ushering me in the door with a small beckon.  “Hi.” I said. “You look nice.” All niceties forgotten, she needily mashed her lips against mine, and I grabbed her thighs and I lifted her onto me, still kissing her intensely. I carried her along a narrow hallway to a door with a fancy brass handle, which I knew to be a room specifically dedicated to sex. Once inside, I realized that she had dressed the place up during my short absence of three days. It was more than the usual day or two, but still. She also probably put all this up since me saying I’d come. Racks along the wall displayed a number of riding crops, floggers, whips, paddles, and other such instruments; one rack displayed handcuffs, rope, zip ties, cord, and other restraints; another showed off a nice collection of sex toys: fleshlights, dildos, vibrators, and others; a small bedside table held a few types of gags. “Damn,” I said, looking around, “this place looks like something out of Fifty Shades of Grey.”  “Do you like it?” She asked, sidling up to me and sliding one coy hand along my chest.  “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun tonight.”     

“Oh my god, yes, yes, oh fuck, oh god yes, eat me!” Yurim’s screams of pleasure filled the room as I pushed her thighs apart for maximum penetration while I ate her out. I had her flat on her back, hands tied high above her head to the bedpost, blindfolded, and legs spread as far as they would go. She was so wet it was like plunging my face into a hot bath. I could tell she was nearing her peak by sound, as she always had specific noises she made when getting close to climax. Her string of words turned into a mindless stream of moans and yelps of pleasure, slowly but surely getting louder until I finally pushed her over the edge. Her groans turned to shrieks and yells as she orgasmed, straining against her restraints and arching her back as her juices sprayed all over my face and shoulders. She fell back to a laying position limply, basking in the post-orgasm pleasure, She made no movement as I uncuffed her hands and took off her blindfold. I hoisted her off the bed and to a support beam near the center of the room, recuffing her hands around it above her head. Her knees came to settle on either side of the beam, providing an erotic view of the glistening pink slit that showed briefly between her spread thighs. Without much further ado, I removed the remainder of my own clothing. She, having reconnected with reality, looked up and saw me before her, then looked up and peered at her cuffed hands. She looked back down slowly and then straight at me, then opened her mouth with lust dancing in her eyes. I rather roughly inserted my cock into her willingly opened mouth, letting her suck her cheeks in and drag her tongue all over my tip, before sheathing to the root in her throat with a single thrust that made her gag. I held there for a moment before partially pulling out, then shoving back in. She opened her jaw to its fullest extent and allowed me through, taking her facefucking with some dignity, and by dignity I mean with saliva running down her chin and a single tear rolling down her cheek. I continued thrusting into her throat, hot sounds of deepthroat resonating loudly around the room. Glancing down for a moment, I saw her thighs very slowly rubbing together, and by the expression in her face (what little I could see of it), I knew she dying to touch herself, but due to the cuffs she couldn’t, something I had done deliberately. I picked up the pace, facefucking her with abandon, completely disregarding her noises getting louder, her random jerks when I went down her throat, and her pleading glances to be released. Without warning, she moaned into it just as I pushed forward and held there. The sudden vibrations around my cock drew a groan from me, and I shoved my hips forward and buried myself in her throat before blowing, shooting cum down her throat. She choked, gagged, and moaned around it, but I didn’t let go. I held myself there, making her kiss the base until she finally tapped out, but I didn’t pull out. I held there and she choked and gagged again with an “ack” as I pushed still further. She squeezed my thigh to let me know she needed air, and I thrusted four more times before pulling out. She fell limp against her cuffs, cum instantly flowing out of her mouth, down her chin, and onto her breasts below. Having swallowed the remaining cum, she gasped and gulped in much-needed air. I sat down hard and laid back on the bed, breathing heavily. There came a distant knock at the door, and I picked myself up off the bed to go look. When I reached the door and looked through the peephole, what I saw made me laugh. Hongjoong stood there wearing a low-cut tank top and a pair of athletic shorts. I flung the door open. “Hongjoong,” I said casually. “Sung-min, ma boy?” He said, stepping in the door. “Ma nude boy?” “This way. Yurim has some bokbunja in the kitchen.” “Where is she, speaking of?” Hongjoong said, looking around. “I figured she’d be here.”  “She may or may not be cuffed to a post, recovering from an orgasm and a hardcore facefucking,” I said nonchalantly, pouring us both a shot of bokbunja. “Bottoms up.”  “Oh, that makes more sense.” He took his shotglass and downed it in one sip. I knocked back my own, savouring the burning and sweet taste before following Hongjoong down the hall to where Yurim was. When we entered the room, Hongjoong took a second to asses the scene before him: walls lined with restraints, whips, paddles, and riding crops, and Yurim’s hands visible at the back of the post, handcuffed. I walked to the post and unlocked the cuffs, allowing her hands to fall. She stood up immediately, turning to face me but then seeing Hongjoong. The thought occurred to me that she had never met Hongjoong and therefore didn’t know who she was looking at. One of her arms crossed over her chest and the other hand shot down over her pussy, which was already glistening with denied arousal, in a vain attempt to protect her modesty. Hongjoong raised his eyebrows and turned to me, clearly questioning this behavior. “You didn’t tell her I was coming?” “Well, I may have forgotten to mention a few key details,” I said. “Yurim, this is Hongjoong, you’ve heard about him. My friend.”  Her tension relaxed and her hands dropped to her sides, bringing back the visual of her breasts and pussy in the full. Hongjoong’s eyes traveled slowly down her body. He started at her neck, going down past her collarbone, pausing at her chest for a split second and then moving on. His eyes roved over her toned stomach and abs, his gaze raking over the pink flesh between her thighs and finally ending on her legs.    He exhaled slowly. “Wow. Okay.”  Yurim’s own glance found his shorts, and I followed her gaze to the quite obvious bulge. I took the first step towards Yurim, pushing her onto the bed while Hongjoong undressed in the corner. I flattened her against it, opening her legs with my own knee. I kissed her deeply, her moans sounding as she allowed me in, enjoying it even before my next move. I gave her thighs one last push apart before acting, sheathing myself to the root in one thrust. My groan sounded with her own “ahh” of pleasure. I started thrusting fast and hard into her, her “ahh” turning into a scream of bliss as I pounded her. Her breasts jiggled deliciously as she bounced with the rhythm of my pounding. Her hands, having been previously gripping the sheets, raised themselves. One hand grabbed my shoulder as her legs wrapped around my back and pulled me closer, and the other found her clit and started rubbing furiously. She was clearly as desperate for release as I was. Within seconds, she arched her back and climaxed with an ear piercing shriek of pleasure. With moans and cries of bliss, she kept humping on me until she had nothing left. I felt myself getting very close to the edge. With an almighty groan, I gave a final thrust and held there, shooting cum into her hole. I rolled over and lay next to her, panting heavily. She gave a soft “ah” as some of my cum came dripping out of her pussy. Hongjoong beckoned me over and I got up, letting Yurim relax in her orgasmic afterglow.   -Anonymous Friend- 

 “What now?” He asked. “Well, what do you have in mind?”   “She didn’t papier-mâché her walls with floggers for no reason. I say we use them.”   I smiled. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” “Probably. Gutter piping outside?” “Absolutely. Go get her and take her outside. I’ll get the… things.”   Hongjoong walked over and hauled Yurim off the bed and towards the bedroom door, grabbing a length of rope as he left.. I walked around, surveying the many whips properly. I selected a black riding crop from one rack and a bullwhip from another. A pink and black tasseled horsewhip from another. A switch from another. And finally a brown oak paddle. I went out to the hall, through the kitchen, through the living room, and opened the front door to fine Yurim naked and tied by her hands to the gutter piping along the house’s front wall. Her feet were tied to concrete bricks which were firmly set into the ground.  “Want to do the honors?” I asked Hongjoong, offering the switch to him.   “I sure as hell do. Where?”   “Ass. She likes the ass.”   Hongjoong took a step back, measured the distance, raised the switch, and brought the tip down on her ass cheek with a searing crack that echoed off the surrounding houses, leaving a red streak in its wake. Yurim’s head shot up and she cried out in both pleasure and pain. She liked being spanked and whipped on the ass, but we definitely weren’t going to stop there. This switch gave a very sharp sting when being used on you, as I had found out when I tapped my own arm with it earlier. He raised it and smacked her ass again. And again. And again. He gave ten strokes before handing it to me. “I’ll sit back and watch for now.” I stepped forwards with confidence and cracked it across her ass again. Another cry sounded from her. I gave her fifteen more strokes before setting the switch down, by which time tears were welling in her eyes but she hadn’t asked me to stop. I looked at the other four. Bullwhip, horsewhip, riding crop, paddle. I went with the riding crop. I picked it up and walked toward her, slowly sliding the leather over her ass, which was littered with red streaks and marks from the switch. I gave her raw ass a small smack with the riding crop and she whimpered. I stepped back, raised it high above my head, and whacked her sexy cheeks. The shout that left her lips sounded more pained than pleasured now, though she would still enjoy it. The streaks increased in number the more I spanked her with the riding crop. Her hands twisted above her head in pain and pleasure, straining against their bonds. I paused for a moment and she stuck her ass out, spread her legs, and gave it a shake, drunk on my spanking. On a sudden thought, I lowered the crop to waist level and gave a beautiful underhand swing at her. The tassels on the end and the body smacked per pussy lips full on. Her cry was delayed for a moment as she took a second to realize. But when it came she threw her head back and shouted out, wiggling her hips for more. I gave her pussy another uppercut with the crop and she just moaned. I knew she loved having her pussy spanked, although usually we weren’t out in public in full view of neighbors, passersby and cars passing, and usually I didn’t use a riding crop, rather my hand or a leather strap, so the thrill was skyrocketed. After a few more strokes, during which I could tell she was getting close to orgasm, I stopped and brought her cumming to a screeching halt. She relaxed, gasping and panting and moaning. A pair of men came out of the house across the street, arguing loudly about whether or not wrestling a chimpanzee would be a good idea. Clearly drunk, the weaved their way into the street, and then they spotted us. I picked up the paddle, observed their transfixed gazes, and gave Yurim’s ass a little smack. She remained quiet, defiantly ignoring the men, who had taken a few steps further. I kept spanking her, going progressively harder until she actually did climax, sending a cascade of cum onto the grass and my feet. Her pleasure was expressed in the most luxurious moans ever and her arms fell limp against the rope. Even in the dark, I could see her cheeks start to redden, the men’s gazes having not wavered from her naked body. She didn’t say anything, however. I glanced over at the two guys, and immediately noticed the glint of a blade on the taller one’s hip. Deciding it would be better not to risk anything, I untied her from the pipe.  “Hongjoong.” I said, and he followed my gaze to the knife blade. He nodded and led her inside. Yurim getting raped and us getting sliced was not something I was prepared to have going on, so I went back inside and locked the door. 

 -상훈- 

 I headed back to the bedroom and took the rope off her wrists. Her ass was thoroughly red, a nice job. But enough messing around. Yurim had gotten up and repositioned herself on her hands and knees. As I looked back, she wiggled her ass at me, wordlessly begging to be fucked. Without any hesitance, I moved forward and bottomed out inside her in one stroke. Her face was buried in the blanket, but a muffled whimper was audible all the same. Hongjoong hung back, looking dubious. “It’s okay, man.” I said, groaning as she squeezed me. “Neither of us mind.”   He hesitated a moment more and then crawled across the bed and lifted her face from the blanket. A moment later I heard the unmistakeable sounds of deepthroat from in front of me. Her pussy was like a vice on my cock. I started thrusting into her harder, and her moans got gradually louder. I reached forwards and squeezed her breasts roughly. I repositioned her so she was in cowgirl on my cock.   “God, Yurim, you’re so fucking tight,” I moaned as she rode me.    “Fuck yes, you like that Sung-min?” Her eyes glinted mischeviously.  “You feel so good on me, don’t stop.”     She continued grinding her hips on me, her clit brushing my crotch with every gyration. Her mouth had fallen open in a state of utter euphoria, intermittent moans sounding from it. I pulled her down and started thrusting into her pussy hard and fast, the soft moans turning to loud yells of pleasure.       I felt another presence in her ass and as it turned out, Hongjoong had started fucking her ass.  “Fuck yes, fuck, oh my god yes, ahh yes keep going, I’m cumming!” I didn’t stop thrusting through her orgasm, her juices splattering my waist and hips. Her head fell beside mine, her hair brushing my cheek. She kept whispering more dirty talk into my ear, only spurring me on, as I was reaching my own peak. “Fucking hell, I’m gonna cum,” groaned Hongjoong. “God, it’s so tight…aahh!”   He gave on final thrust and buried himself to the hilt in her ass, and she moaned in my ear as she felt the flood of warmth. I slapped her ass as he pulled out, causing her to moan “ahh” as I plunged into her. There were seconds, maybe, before my orgasm. She sat up, propped herself up on my chest with her arms, and started grinding her hips on me.   “Yurim, I’m cumming,” I gasped, the pleasure overwhelming me. “Keep grinding. Oh fuck, keep grinding.”   I pulled her hips down on me hard, and then with an involuntary moan, spurted another load of cum deep inside her. She rolled off of me and sat panting by my side. I leaned over and kissed her.    “Oh shit guys, I have to go.” Hongjoong said suddenly, getting up and getting dressed again. “I’m already late. Sung-min, I’ll see you tomorrow man. Later, Yurim.” With that, he departed and I heard the front door close loudly.     Yurim slid over on top of me, my half-hard cock naturally settling between her thighs.      “So,” Yurim said into my ear, “how was it?”    “Fucking amazing. I trust you liked it?”    I could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke the next words. “I loved it. Being whipped outside was fun. New and exciting. Do you want to go for round two?”   “Tomorrow morning, maybe. I’m too tired.”     She pulled herself up partially and smirked down at me.   “What? You’re saying you’re too weak?”     I met her eyes and growled,        “Come here.”

[farfromstrange]

Please, Be Okay | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (gender neutral)

Summary: When Matt doesn't text or answer your calls during a night out, you can't help but suspect the worst.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death and blood, hurt/comfort, not proof-read

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: So it's like 2am over here and I was trying to sleep, sat up straight in bed, and started to write this in like an hour. I'm not sure what this is, but I actually kind of like it now.

“Please, be okay.” 

It’s nights like this that you were afraid of. The prepaid flip phone you carry is silent, not because you turned off the sound but because no messages are coming in. No calls, no texts, and therefore no signs of life from the only number that is saved on the phone.

You know you worry too much most of the time, and usually, he either forgets to text or he’s too busy to let you know he’s okay, but there is one thing you can always count on: Matt Murdock answers when you text him because leaving you worried in the comfort of your shared apartment, clinging to the hope he didn’t get fatally injured during his nightly patrols, would be an awful thing to do to a loved one. You need to know he’s okay. You need to know he’s alive. Your worry eats him alive, so no matter what, he finds the time to text back, even if it’s just a stupid period. He always texts back.

Tonight, you have texted him fifty-seven times in an hour. He always texts back, but tonight, he hasn’t. And it’s not his usual five-minute delay. 

You’ve been stuck whispering, “Please, be okay,” into the void of darkness, your phone, and God himself for hours and there has not yet been a sign that he is, in fact, okay. And it’s not just something that irks or frustrates you, it causes the pure essence of panic to course through your veins, grab your throat and keep you in a chokehold as you fall victim to the cruel spiral of your never-ending morbid thoughts. 

He hasn’t texted back or answered your calls in an hour and you’re starting to worry that this might be it. He might be lying in a dumpster again, barely hanging on, and this time Claire won’t be around. Or he is in the middle of a heated battle with his enemies and someone has managed to breach his suit and soon enough, he will be choking on his blood in a pool of red liquid without anyone around but him and his never-ending self-blame. He will take that to the grave, you know it. 

Your mind reels with the different possibilities, and none of them are pretty. He doesn’t simply forget to answer, that’s not like him, and he hasn’t been silent for longer than twenty minutes after being begged for a sign of life. You’re sure he hasn’t even read your messages, and at this point, you’re hyperventilating and you’re crying as you’re pacing the floorboards because damn you, Matt Murdock, you’ve had a deal. At this point, you’re sure he’s dead in a ditch somewhere and your last conversation will have been a phone call because you just had to do overtime at work. Your last conversation would have been about dinner plans you never got to fulfill. Your last conversation would have ended without an ‘I love you’ and that’s what breaks you; you love him more than anything and seeing him hurt always manages to hurt you even more, so thinking about him being dead or dying somewhere, without you, without support and without hope, it breaks the heart that loves him more than you love your own life. 

You call Foggy, you call Claire, you even call any other hospital in New York. They must think you’re crazy by now, but the nagging feeling that something is terribly wrong eats away at your heart and takes your breath away.

In front of your inner eyes, you can see his warm smile. You can feel his lips on your skin, his lingering kisses, and hushed confessions of how much he loves and adores you. You can hear his laugh and his corny jokes. But then you look further and you can see his bloody and bruised body lying there. You can see his scars, fresh wounds adorning his chest, his suit torn apart, and all of his shields gone. His chest heaves with his last few breaths and as he dies, he whispers your name. He calls out for you the way you always would when you’ve had a bad day – and you know it doesn’t compare, but you have never left each other alone when the other was struggling. You truly believed you would have more of these moments with him, you would get married and eventually start a family because you both said that it would heal the scars from your past. You wanted to move on and start a new and better life together, showing each other the love you lacked all this time from the people who were around you. But he is probably dead and there is no future for you if the man you love is dead.

You can’t imagine burying him. It hurts too much. Having to explain to Father Lantom what happened, having to stand at the altar and give a eulogy and say goodbye to him as he’s lying in an open casket, waiting to be laid to rest – these thoughts are so present, you can’t see anything but the truth in them. 

You’ve always feared this moment and now it’s here, and you don’t know how to act. You don’t know what to do. The uncertainty turns into assumptions and the assumptions turn into your worst enemy. 

He’s prepared you for this, but you refused to listen before. 

What kind of casket would Matt Murdock want, anyway?  

You choke on your own tears as you sink to your knees in front of the couch. You gave up on praying. God won’t hear you anyway. Your body is shaking and you’re not quite sure where to go with yourself, but you don’t exactly have anywhere to go either. 

You’re so focused on the only thing you can think of that you don’t hear the rooftop access creaking open or the heavy footsteps descending the stairs. 

“Sweetheart?” he sounds hoarse as he speaks into the dead of the night.

For a second, you think it’s a ghost, but then your instincts kick in and you look up, your cheeks stained with tears. 

“Oh, my God!” you say. 

Matt stands in the blue lighting of the billboard outside. His mask is on the floor, and his gloves have been discarded. He looks fine. He looks alive. 

You get off your knees and walk up to him, your steps determined. You yearn for him. Your broken heart starts mending, but the pain is still there, and the relief only makes you cry harder.

“You didn’t call,” your voice is barely above a whisper, “and I thought you died.”

His eyes soften. “My battery died,” he says. 

My battery died. You are such an idiot, you tell yourself. It’s one of the few things you haven’t even considered, and it’s the most logical. The stupid battery died because phone batteries die sometimes, and he doesn’t exactly have any other means of getting in contact when he is out there, and you have never felt more stupid for reacting the way you did. But also, the fact that there could have been some truth to your fears reminds you that your anxiety is never entirely without reason, especially not with him. Not with Matt Murdock, not with the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen as the man you fell in love with; with him, anxiety about his well-being is never entirely unreasonable. For a second though, you want nothing more than to slap yourself. 

Your breath shudders as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I thought I lost you.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He instantly hugs you close to him. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking and I didn’t notice until now. I’m okay, baby. I’m here. I came back.”

“You’re here.” You lean back to check his face and body for injuries, but he’s okay. You prayed and he is okay, even though you still can barely believe your own eyes. “God… don’t ever do this to me again. I hate you so much.” Your fist collided with his shoulder and his face says as much as ‘I deserved that’. 

There are not many more places you can or want to hit him before the dam you’ve put up to hold back your tears after he stepped in breaks once again. 

He holds you as you cry. Feeling him close to you alive and breathing is a small victory, but it’s enough for now. It’s enough to give you a moment of relief, being in the arms of the man you love and being safe with him as he is safe with you. 

Still, it could have gone differently and tonight could have been the night he wouldn’t have come home to you because even though phones die, so do humans and with Matt, there is a very fine line. 

His hands find your face. Slowly, he leans forward to connect your lips. The kiss is gentle yet firm, a reminder from him that he’s okay. He places your hand on his chest as he does so, making you feel his rhythmic heartbeat through the fabric of his suit. You can feel his chest rise and fall beneath your shaky fingers. 

You whimper. “You’re really okay,” you say.

“I’m okay,” he says with a smile. “Nothing happened to me.”

“But you didn’t answer and I… you always answer. You always fucking answer, Matt, but you didn’t tonight. For hours, and I… God, you always answer and you didn’t. I was so scared.”

His face contorts. He can feel the pain in your voice, the vibrations hurting his ears and shaking him to his core. He figured before that his nightly rounds around Hell’s Kitchen keep you awake and worried, but he has never seen you this distraught before. 

Gently, he pulls you close again. “I’m sorry,” is all he can really say.

He knows your fear of him dying is not so far-fetched, and if his phone hadn’t died, the reason for his disappearance could have been more serious. He knows it, and it breaks his heart to hear your own breaking. 

You nuzzle your face into his neck, close to his pulse point. You feel him swallow, counting every heartbeat with precision just like he would yours. “Don’t ever die on me,” he hears you say against his hot skin, and he holds you impossibly closer. 

“Never,” Matt promises. He’s not sure why he makes a promise he doesn’t know if he can even keep it, but there is nothing he wants more than to be by your side for the rest of his life, and he doesn’t want to sacrifice what you have for anything, not even the chase.

So he makes a promise to you and himself, “From now on, I won’t leave the house without explicitly checking if my phone is charged, and I’ll make sure to check in every hour. I won’t ever leave you for so long again, and I won’t die on you. I love you,” he says. “I love you more than anything else in this world and I want to make this work. I can’t stand watching you break your heart and head over me and that needs to stop, so I promise I’m going to do everything in my power to make this easier, and I’m going to put in the most effort I humanly can.”

His eyes are stern when he looks just a little past yours, but he’s holding your face so tightly and close to his own, you can smell his breath, and his heartbeat under your fingers tells you he’s telling the truth. 

Your tears subside and you can muster a small smile that he would have given millions to see, just this once, just to see the relief and the love in your beautiful eyes. “I love you,” he repeats.

You don’t hesitate to kiss him, firmer than the one he gave you before. “And I love you,” you say. 

“Is that… Do you think we can make this work? That I can make this work? You deserve so much better and I intend to give that to you. Hurting you is the last thing I could possibly want and I hate myself so much that I did.”

“It’s okay, I know.” Your smile turns into a knowing breath of fresh air. “It’s not your fault.”

He hesitates before nodding, registering your words and allowing them to manifest. “Okay?” 

“Yeah, okay. I trust you, Matthew. I trust you with my body, soul, and my life, so there is nothing I’d consider impossible for you,” you say. “Just… just make sure you keep your promise and stay alive for me, okay? I need you to promise me.”

Your pleading time causes his eyes to soften even more so now. “I promise,” he says although he has many times before, but it soothes your conscience and he’s happiest when you’re happy. 

He promises to give you what you deserve, and you won’t ever have to cry because of him again. It’s something he holds dear to him and will do so until the day he dies, which he will make sure isn’t soon. 

As you lie in bed, the clock striking four am, you curl into him and you whisper the three words that have become your mantra, “I love you.” 

He kisses the crown of your head, tired but happy to be in your arms again. “I love you too, Angel,” he says. 

His heartbeat remains steady beneath your ear and you know, that man loves you as much as he says he does if not more, and it allows you to relish in the feeling of having him alive and well in bed with you again so you can finally close your eyes and get some much-needed rest. 

[heartbrkr]

heyyyy can i request a jungwoo one?

where they both in a relationship, the reader is in college and struggling af with her academics, and jungwoo (with his idol schedule as we know it) as an older and bigger person always supports and is reliable AND OF COURSE always be the one to ease reader's mind/feeling LIKE he really is the one that reader needed no one else because everything feels enough when it comes to him.

sorry if this sounds too desperate im just so deep in the black hole of my academics like it's sucking the soul of mine i know i need to get a life. anywaaaay big big thanks for opening the request bar im praying for your happiness and bright days ahead <3

REQUEST All you need is a shoulder to cry on when college gets tough. Jungwoo's more than willing to be the one you need to feel at ease.

PAIRING kim jungwoo x gender neutral!reader

GENRE established relationship, angst, comfort

WORD COUNT 1.3k

WARNINGS bad eating and working habits, not proofread!

AUTHOR’S NOTE this was requested when i took a break from writing :( i'm so sorry it took me so long to get to it, lovely. i really hope you're doing better now & i'm rooting for you <3

MASTERLIST

The consistent hum from the air conditioning is the only noise you can barely tolerate during your study session; anything above fifty decibels will irritate you. You don’t realize you’ve been scrutinizing the same word— not even a sentence— over and over again until you’ve read it for the seventh time in 10 minutes. Only then do you notice how empty you feel, nothing but acid and anxiety from this morning’s caffeine bubbling in your stomach. It’s irritating how your eyes start drying themselves too. 

You could use a break, but you don't think you deserve it; you didn’t hit your goal for the hour. (In your current capacity, you can’t register that it’s hopeless to juice anything out when there’s nothing to wring in the first place.)

On the right end of your desk are your messily stacked test papers from professors who refuse to hold their quizzes online, something about not being tech-savvy enough to do so. You initially ignored the scores when you tossed them aside. But the mind wishes to blow your final grain of self-esteem away by zeroing on the fact that you had failed your most recent exam by two points. Not shoving them in a random folder to hide them out of sight was your past self’s mistake.

Apparently, you haven’t learned your lesson with curious eyes because you glance over your left shoulder, desperate to distract yourself from your pitiful attempt to survive college. You vaguely see the ever growing pile of laundry that you haven’t had the time to tend to. Has it… always been that tall? Why does it only bother you now when it’s been that way for the whole week?

No tears are coming out, even if you actually want them to. At this moment, there’s nothing more annoying than that.

“Fuck,” you rub your eyes as you shut your laptop closed, “unrealistic goals be damned.” You mumble dryly to yourself before diving into your unmade bed; you can’t recall the last time it was made. It’s second to feeling like heaven when your head hits the softness of your pillow. First is when you’re with your boyfriend. To you, anywhere with Jungwoo is heaven on earth. 

Speaking of which, you could really use his company right now.

Your hand blindly fishes your phone out of the comforter’s creases to check the time. When you finally feel a rectangular block, you lazily turn your head left to face the glowing screen. Looking right back at you is a photo of you and Jungwoo, the latter grinning at you fondly after you surprised him with a bouquet of flowers to commemorate his final emcee gig. 11:39PM. He won’t be home until one in the morning or so.

The hours that pass feel closer to seven than two, your growling stomach and prodding headache not allowing you to get any proper rest. In the distance, you finally hear beeping and buzzing from the front door’s electronic lock followed by socked footfalls towards your room. Your head is telling you to welcome him properly, but your heart is grounding you into the mattress. The hinges on the door squeak.

When Jungwoo’s eyes drop to your sprawled figure, he thinks you’re asleep. He carefully caresses your arm with his thumb to wake you up quietly, knowing how you feel after a rough, monotonous day of studying and intaking more information than one can humanely process. Your partner fully understands what it’s like to give his all until there’s nothing left for himself; you’re aware he’s doing his best to prevent that from happening to you too. Still face-down on the cushion, you pull your arm away from his touch to hold it properly. He gladly accepts, more than pleased to caress that instead.

“The kitchen looks abandoned. Have you eaten anything?” When he speaks, it’s not abrupt, rather like a cloud drifting into the intimate space you two share.

Your muffled 'no' reaches no one’s ears, not even your own. It’s awkward, and a bit painful on your unstretched joints, to pull you up by the arm so he asks you if you can shift to a sitting position. You don’t want to burden him either with the work of flipping your whole body; he physically exerted himself the whole day, you don’t need to add to that. You push yourself up from your lying position and flop on the edge of the bed.

“Haven’t eaten since…” You pause. You hate that you have to think about it. “Last night. I only had time to grab a bottle of coffee from the fridge earlier.”

Jungwoo hides his exasperated expression as soon as it appears, intertwining both his hands with yours again. “I know it’s not the right time to lecture you because it’s the last thing we want right now. But you really can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

You start feeling guilty even though that’s opposite his intention. The idea of accidentally reopening Jungwoo’s old wounds is enough motivation to want to break out of your harmful work ethics. He sighs at your lack of response and attention, but it’s not one of irritation.

Pulling you up to stand, he gives you a proper warm hug. That was the key to release your frustrated teardrops from earlier. They keep going and going, and your blubbering intensifies because you know it’ll be hard to stop. “Why isn’t my best enough?”

He says nothing about how your tears seep into his shirt, just holding you closer. “You’re trying. That is enough.”

Jungwoo lets you cry and cry and cling onto him like your life depends on it; he’s unaware that he’s almost right on the money. You stopped attempting to speak completely because it’ll reset any progress you’ve made trying to manage your crying. His arms feel right cradling you; if you could, you’d stay in them forever. Your lover rubs your back to get those final sobs out of your system.

“How’re we feeling now? Better?” He gently asks, drying the remaining tears on your cheeks with his knuckles. You nod, still wary of using your voice, worried that there are still stray tears somewhere inside of you.

He rests you down back on the bed and joins you this time. Your head drops on his shoulder out of exhaustion. “I’ll order us some food. You want anything in particular?”

“I’m okay with whatever.” You mumble wetly, your vision focused on your interlaced fingers. Jungwoo’s other hand is busy, fiddling on his phone. You nudge him softly with your shoulder, he hums in question.

You rest your chin on the curve of his shoulder to admire his barefaced side profile. “You promised you’d let me pay the next time we order.”

Your boyfriend raises his eyebrow in faux confusion and turns his neck dramatically to face you. The proximity makes his teasing front falter slightly with a peeking grin. “Did I? I don’t remember. Oh well, next time then!” He promises that every time. And every time, he says he means it. (He never does).

Jungwoo attempts to set the table up to the best of his abilities. You tried helping him out but he shooed you away, forcing you on the dining chair. Before the meal, he calls for your attention. “We don’t have to talk about it now. I just wanted to say that breaks aren’t earned, okay? You’re doing great, even if you think otherwise.” 

It’ll take some time to get that through your head, he knows that, but you give him a small smile. “I’ll believe you.”

Over your too-late-to-be-dinner and too-early-to-be-breakfast meal— fully paid for by him, again— Jungwoo tells you how his day went, including his members’ usual shenanigans during rehearsals. He’ll never rush you to talk about what’s been going on because he respects the pace you prefer to go on; he’s confident you’ll tell him when you’re ready, you always do.

Right now, you just need him and he’ll always be there to ease you back on track, every step of the way.

[c-h-i-m-es]

-pretty life saver

itoshi rin x f!reader

you lay in your bed and take out your notes, pens and whatever else you need to complete your homework. you start with english first, starting from the easier ones first. then you take out your math notebook and turn the pages to start with it only to find out that you have not finished writing the solution down.

“ugh why is this not complete?” you go through your bag to take your math book out, only that you do not find it. “huh” you go through your bag again to see if you missed, “i.. do not have my book.”

you remember taking it out during the class so no way you have it in your room unless you didn’t see it in your bag so you check again. nope. it is not in your bag.

you must have left it in your locker. sighing, you lay on your bed and go through your phone. break time.

you little break soon grows into an hour long and before you know it, it is starting to get dark outside. 

“oh. my. god. i do not have my book with me.” like the realization just hit you, you start to panic and look through your bag again. but that is not gonna change the fact that it really is not  in your bag.

you grab your phone and call your saviour. after a couple of rings, he picks up the call, “hello?” you hear his usual calm voice and you could not help but smile.

“hi! what were you doing?” you plop your head on the pillow. “i was gonna go for a run. you in trouble or something?” 

you scoff, “rude. but no i need you help.” “so you did get into trouble?”

“rin! no. i need real help here.” he pauses for a second before continuing, “okay tell me what happened.”

“so i think i left my math book at school and i did not complete whatever we were writing and i cannot do my homework and the only times i don’t do homework are the times they check it- rin help me please.”

“jesus how could-” you stop him before he gets too into lecturing you, “rin, baby i know what you’ll say so save it for later. i need to get this thing done.”

you hear him sigh, “whatchu want me to do anyways?”

“bring me your notes and your book.” silence takes over so you continue, “and i promise i will not forget to bring it to you tomorrow.”

“y/n, i am about to go for my daily run.”

“that’s perfect then. you can go for run and bring me your book.”

“ugh you’re lucky i love you.” 

your face instantly breaks into a smile, “i know i am. thanks a lot rin.”

“yeah i’ll see you in a bit.” he hangs up with that. you grab your phone and walk out your room and into the living room. you put something on the tv and grab yourself a drink from fridge.

about ten minutes later, you hear the doorbell ring and you run towards the door. you yank the door open and see your boyfriend.

beaming up at him, you put your arms around him, “hi.” you pull back and place a kiss on his lips. “you really are a trouble y/n. come on.” he lets himself inside your house and waits for you to do the same.

someone might even confuse rin as the house owner and you as the friend staying at his place. but he is just used to being at your place and with your family.

you get in and lock the door behind you, “aren’t you going for a run?”

“i was going to but i thought you might need help with these.” he lifts the book and his notes in his hand. you smile cheekily at him, “well well, aren’t you real sweet?”

you both go to your room and spend the next hour and half doing your homework, in which for like thirty percent of the time while rin spends fifty percent explaining it to you and remaining twenty repeating what he already said.

“damn i’m done with this shit.” you close and out your notebook away and move close to rin, “this was too much exhausting.”

“you made it exhausting for me.” he complains but still puts his arms around you to pull you closer to his body. you turn around to face him and sit on his lap, “not my fault this is so confusing.” you kiss him as you cup his cheeks, him placing his hand on your jaw, kisses you back. 

he pulls away and looks at you, “that is why you should concentrate in the classes.” suddenly, the look on his eyes change from absolute adoration into something different and you do not like the change. “that reminds me..”

you let out a breath and rest your forehead on his shoulder while he continues, “how can you just forget your book in school? and why did you not complete copying the notes in the class. i don’t remember you bring that slow.”

“i can find it tomorrow anyways that’s no big deal-”

“it’s not about you getting it back tomorrow anyways, it’s about you being careless. you need to be careful and be aware-” you could not hear him lecture you anymore so you move away and get off of him, “where do you think you’re going?”

“are you hungry? cause i am and i need food.” you walk out the room and seeing rin coming for you, you run towards the kitchen. him being an athletic, catches you in no time in a hug from behind.

“you are not gonna get away from me, pretty.” he whispers in your ear making you shiver. you turn your head around and look into in beautiful teal eyes.

“i wouldn’t wanna get away from you but i cannot listen to you blabber any longer.” you don’t say anything for awhile but then he suddenly tickles you. you squeal in surprise and try to get away from him but he holds you close, “rin! let me go!” he doesn’t listen and you say your most powerful words you could use against him, “no more kisses.”

he stops and makes you turn around to face him, “like you could resist not kissing me.” you tilt your head at him, “oh baby i can.”

“you cannot last a few hours without clinging to me.” you gasp dramatically, “that’s not true.” he brings his face closer to yours, “that is so true.”

you move out of his hold and narrow your eyes at him, “what’s gotten into you today? was not going for your run lethal to you?”

he rolls his eyes at that and flicks your forehead before walking into to kitchen. “ouch! you don’t just flick me hard and search for food in my kitchen.”

“well too bad cause i just did.”

you bicker for awhile before your parents get home and see you two acting like some kids fighting over a toy.

“rin! i didn’t know you were coming over.” you mom enters the kitchen with a smile. rin greets you parents, “y/n needed some help with her homework so she called me.”

“since you’re here stay for dinner then.”

“oh yes he will!” you reply for him and look at your boy, “right?” you wiggle your brows at him and he sighs, “yeah sure. thank you.” he says to you mom and you both cut some fruits for everyone while your parents work in the kitchen after freshening up.

you stay in the living room cuddled up with rin while you watch some dramas. “how is she not dead at?” you scoff at the dumb and annoying character who has not died yet even after being attacked and putting everyone in danger for a number of times.

“right she does nothing for the plot but there she is, still living relying on others. i hope she dies at some point.”

rin may not seem like someone who’d enjoy watching some dramas and complain but he is. it is almost like a routine for you two to spend at least a day or two each week at one of the two’s house and watch some series or movies and talk about how hot, that’s mostly you or how dumb and annoying, mostly rin in this case, the character is.

“but you know what..” he started and you look at him for him to continue, “if we were in a movie, you’d be the dumb one who needs to be saved every time,” you slap his arms, “what the fuck rinny! that is literally so-”

you could not finish because he cups your face and holds your face close to his, “and i’d be your love interest who’d always be there to save you.” 

you could not say anything next cause what the hell was wrong with your boyfriend today? you don’t know but it’s prolly one of those days when he gets really clingy. 

your pretty life saver needs all your attention at times and you love this side of him.

you laugh and place a kiss on his lip, “you really need something to eat babe.”

[raccoonfallsharder]

rocket says take a fuckin' study break ✩࿐࿔

in honor of it being finals season for many of you, i'm resharing the take a fuckin' study break drabble/minific from ✩࿐࿔ take what you need here, in full. ao3 version here.

fluff | gn reader | no use of y/n | drabbles | word count: 1,020.

“Ow!” you yelp, rocking back on your stool and scrubbing a hand at your forehead. “Did you just flick me?”

“I been talking at you for like two minutes,” Rocket grouses. “It’s like talking to a frickin’ wall.”

You glower. “I told you. I’m studying. And writing. And studying. Leave me alone.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he jeers. “Terran finals. Whatever. Sounds like a waste of time. Haven’t the humies on that backward mudball realized yet that tests don’t actually measure learning? It’s like using a yardstick to measure time.”

You sigh and lean back. “Yeah, they know. Doesn’t matter though. If I want to pass these classes and get this stupid degree, I need to–” You scrub at your forehead again and sigh. “You know what? Never mind. I cannot have you un-motivating me right now. What did you want?”

He leaps neatly onto the stool across from you and sets two glass bottles on the tabletop, then leans his forearms on the little table between you, smirking smugly. “To pay you back, cupcake.” The mockery in his voice does not bode well for you. “Remember what you told me last week when Adam was whining about how I was making him study the Bowie’s schematics for too many hours?”

You feel your stomach drop. “No,” you lie, big-eyed.

His smirk only grows. “Lemme refresh your terrible frickin’ memory, then.” Now his teeth are sharp and he heightens his voice into a whiny falsetto. “But Rocket. Maximum productivity is only five-to-seven hours a day. You can overload the crappy baldbody brain if you go longer than that–”

“Pretty sure I did not say ‘crappy baldbody brain,’” you interject dryly.

“–and he could lose everything you’ve taught him already. Plus, he needs fifteen-to-twenty minute breaks every fifty-to-ninety minutes.”

You stare at him flatly, unwilling to dignify his bad mimicry with a response. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to care. He’s snickering openly at this point.

“Time to take your fuckin’ break,” he tells you. “It’s for your own damn good.”

You feel your brain fluttering in your skull like a trapped bird, and your heart is already starting to pick up the pace too. “Rocket,” you plead, all that old academic anxiety spiking high. “Unlike Adam, I’m actually on a time table. I need to finish all this by–”

“And if what you told me was true, I’m not gonna let you overdo it and lose it,” he tells you, his voice dropping for just a moment into something serious and intent. “Now get up. You’ve been at this for at least an hour-and-a-half.”

You hesitate, staring reluctantly at your laptop screen.

“Do I gotta give you a direct order, kid?”

You glower at him and drag yourself off the barstool. He turns sideways on his own, leaning against the table lazily and taking a mouthful of his ale. “Five deep breaths,” he orders lazily. “Your eyes aren’t laser cannons, and your angry looks aren’t gonna shut me up, cupcake.”

“God, I hate you,” you tell him, and then close your eyes and plant your feet and take your five stupid deep breaths.

“Roll your shoulders. Three times in each direction.”

You start and he cuts you off with a barked, “Slower. Start over.”

You scowl at him and do it.

“Touch your toes.”

“Geezus, I hate you,” you repeat. He just raises a brow and waits till you follow his instructions.

When you rise back up, he’s nudging the second glass bottle in your direction. “Drink half a’ that.”

You glare but lift it to your mouth anyway. It’s just water – but it’s the perfect temperature, and you suddenly realize you haven’t had anything but caffeine all day, and even that had been hours ago. You end up drinking more than half, easily.

Rocket sighs and shakes his head when you put it down. “Okay, ready for your next mission?”

“Rocket, I don’t have time–”

“It’ll take less time if you shut up and do what I frickin’ say.”

“You are the worst.”

He grins and his tail flicks. “So I’ve been told,” he concedes with mock humility, like you’ve just given him a compliment. He raises a clawed finger. “You need some fresh air, and you need to eat. You’re gonna go down to that street food stall in the Zygomatic Arch and get yourself a roasted yaro root wrap. Then you’re gonna come back and Kraglin’s gonna meet you across the street from here with a data pad. As long as you’re eating that wrap, he’s gonna let you scroll through those Terran holovid transmissions–”

“It’s goddamn Tiktok, Rocket.”

“–for exactly five minutes. No more an’ no less. And then you’re gonna come back in here and drink the rest of your water and I’ll leave you alone.” His grin widens. “At least for the next ninety minutes.”

You stare at him witheringly. “I hate you.”

“You keep saying that, cupcake, but I don’t think it’s true.”

You sigh, and feel your shoulders drop in defeat, and you head toward the open tambour door that leads into the streets. It’ll be nice, you grudgingly suppose: to breathe some fresh air and get some of the artificial Knowhere sunlight on your skin. To stretch your legs out and grab a snack and see some people, even if just in passing.

And it’s good that Kraglin’s gonna be in charge of the datapad because he’s such a fucking simp for his captain that he’s not gonna let you go over the five minutes Rocket has rationed for you on Tiktok.

“Kid.”

You pause in your steps and glance back over your shoulder at Rocket. His smirk is just a little softer, and you abruptly remember that this jackass actually cares about you – like, really cares about you. He just tries to hide it under layers of being fucking annoying.

“You’re gonna win your finals.”

You blink, and a laugh startles its way out of your chest, softly puffing out of your mouth. “That’s not–” you start to say, and then you laugh again and shrug. “Sure will,” you tell him affectionately. “For you, Captain. Thanks.”

please remember to take 15-20 minute breaks every 50-90 minutes! (set alarms on your phone to help.) use that time to open your window or go for a walk (even if it's cold). take some deep breaths. stretch. drink water. unclench your jaw. talk to someone who won't let you stay distracted for too long. and grab something to eat (even if it's just a granola bar). brains don't retain jackshit without sleep, nutrients, and moments of rest.

you got this. you're gonna win your finals.

check the ✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist for more self-care reminders, including eat somethin, drink some goddamn water, and go to frickin bed already (yeah that means you).