#I'm usually good at just writing without caring much

[adollrable]

Under the same moon.

✧ summary: where it's your birthday and your boyfriend is on a mission far from home.

✧ cw: female reader x leon kennedy (re4r), fluff, just him being a cutie pie and the boyfiest boyfie ever (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿

✧ wc: 1387

a/n: I'M SCARED, this is my first time writing something COMPLETELY in english so... if something looks kinda silly forgive me 😞 english is not my first language but feel free to give me feedback!

my birthday was two days ago and i kinda want it to write something so, if someone is reading this on their birthday, happy birthday!!! 🤲🏻

11:45 PM. You were pacing around your apartment. Brushing your teeth, doing your skin care routine, pulling out the softest cotton sheets you have at your disposal.

You looked at the calendar that sat on the nightstand next to your bed, your eyes drifting towards the next day's date. Your birthday.

You weren't that excited, the printed number that indicated your day of birth wasn't marked with a red marker that circled it. The date Leon would return was.

Originally, your boyfriend's absence wouldn't interfere with your birthday. He would be with you on your special day. But you thought back to the call you had with him a few days ago, with him trying to get a signal to tell you that he couldn't make it on time and that he was really sorry.

You understand. It doesn't bother you, but you wish he was by your side now.

His job was complicated, and he explained that he couldn't tell you much from it. As far as you know, he's in Spain, rescuing someone. You don't know who, but it must be someone important.

11:55 PM. Five minutes to midnight. Five minutes until another return to the sun happens for you.

You laid down on your bed, covered by the sheets that hugged your body. You took the pillow that Leon usually uses and wrapped both arms around it, seeking comfort to avoid missing him so much.

Tomorrow would be just another day. Sure, your friends will congratulate you, you will receive calls from your family at extremely early hours of the morning, and you will repeat "thank you, I appreciate it" like a broken recorder for each call and message.

Gifts don't matter, much less a cake, or a party. The only thing you want is for the love of your life to return soon and you can be together.

Rolling between thoughts, you were able to fall asleep.

12:00 PM. Finally your birthday.

Your cellphone vibrated with every message that one of your friends or your family sent you congratulations. The light from the device breaks into your not-so-deep sleep, since not even ten minutes had passed since you closed your eyes.

Sheet off you, you stopped hugging the pillow and with a soft grunt reached for your phone, checking notifications with squinted eyes.

You lowered the brightness of your cell phone because of that annoying burning in your eyes and now with more comfort, you wandered around the notifications you had, until one caught your attention completely.

Leon ♡: "Happy birthday, baby. I love you so much."

A smile began to form on your face, and without hesitation you unlocked your cell phone to answer him.

Thanks, Lee :( I miss you and I love you

You weren't expecting a response, after all, he must be busy, right? In Spain it must have been your birthday hours ago, but he still bothered to wait for it to come where you are.

Leon ♡: I miss you too, how have you been?

You didn't think he would have time to respond, but you also didn't want to spend three days without hearing from him, so you took advantage of the opportunity.

I've been fine... I haven't done much, just work and back home :( how about you?

Leon ♡: Tired, but all good. Missing you most of all the time. Tell me, have you done anything interesting?

Does missing you count? :[

Leon ♡: Yeah, it counts, sweet thing. I want to tell you something, okay? But let me call you first.

The fact that he was going to call you made you feel good, he may not be with you on your birthday and he is supposed to arrive days later, but one call is enough to lift your spirits.

You were going to answer but your screen lit up with your boyfriend's contact name and the buttons to answer or hang up the call. You pressed the green button and put it on speaker, placing your phone on your chest with a smile. "Hi..."

"Hello, birthday girl." His voice... You could spend hours listening to him speak, even if he was talking about the most boring topic in the world, you would pay attention from start to finish. "How's my baby doing?"

You giggled, there really wasn't much to say, your birthday had started less than an hour ago, "No crazy, exciting party... My friends have congratulated me, as has my family. My parents must be asleep at this time, so I guess when they wake up they'll call me."

"Yeah, they must be resting at this time, huh. You should, too. It's only because of your birthday that you stay up so late." He answered and you could hear his smirk over the phone, making you blush slightly.

"Of course not... I can sleep late whenever I want." And even if you wanted to, you know it's not possible. Once you get home from work and settle into your boyfriend's arms to sleep, you fall deeply into the arms of Morpheus. It's hard not to sleep well when you have a giant boyfriend pillow. "I can't sleep without you here."

"I know, baby, I know... I can't sleep without my sweet girl hugging me like a damn teddy bear." He chuckled and you did it too. Both of you fell into a small silence, it wasn't awkward, it was comforting. "Hey, baby?" He began, as you settled into the sheets.

"Mhm?" You asked, as you looked at the moon through your bedroom window. Her brilliance seeped in and was strong and radiant.

Watching the moon always gave you a certain comfort, knowing that no matter where Leon is, both of you will always be under the same moon and firmament of stars.

A laugh came through the speaker of your cell phone, the same laugh that makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. "Did you see how beautiful the moon is?"

You smiled, humming a small "mhm" in response, before adding, "Yeah... It's full and very pretty. I wish you were here to watch it together."

Leon let out a small sigh, "Yeah, me too, what if you ask the moon for that?" You chuckled this time. It was a silly thing to do, but, why not?

"Like a birthday wish? But if you know it then it won't come true." Leon could hear the pout in your voice, and he smiled to himself. "Maybe there will be an exception this time." He murmured. "Come on, babe. Do it."

With your eyes closed, you let out a sigh, wishing with all your being that Leon could be by your side as soon as possible, and after a few seconds, you heard him speak, "Did you do it?"

"Yeah, I did... Time to wait I guess." Your gaze met that radiant crater that was seen in its maximum splendor, until something began to click in your head.

"Did you see how beautiful the moon is?" There is supposed to be approximately six hours between your location and Spain, so it was impossible for Leon to see the moon shining in its entirety, but you tried not to give too much thought to the matter, since the moon can also be seen during the day, although at lower exposure.

But if he talked about the moon... And how big it looked... That could mean that maybe he...

"The stars look very bright too." He added after.

"But, you know what I think is more bright?" He began, while his footsteps were heard on the cement, signaling that he had begun to walk.

Until he stopped.

"The brightest thing I'm going to see is your face when you look out the window."

That made you get up from your bed, phone in hand while with clumsy steps thanks to the sheets rolled up between your legs, you reached the window and realized everything.

He is here.

And when he saw that look light up on your face, he knew that the moon was nothing compared to how radiant you looked. "Hey, birthday girl."

It seems like the moon was the perfect alibi for Leon to sneak in and surprise you.

Or simply the moon heard your wishes, and fulfilled them on your special day.

a/n: OKAY... I'M STILL NERVOUS I PUT THIS ON THREE DIFFERENT GRAMMAR CHECKERS BUT I'M STILL AFRAID i suck at writing tbh but this idea was scratching my brain and i thought Hmm why not SO!!! i hope y'all like it :] i appreciate likes and reblogs annnnnd comments i love comments!!! feel free to give me tips to be better at writing or something THAT'S ALL BYE-BYE 🤲🏻

[meownotgood]

writing would be so joyous without the plague of the Compare Self to Others debuff

[alastorss]

Hello! I'm not sure if you'll be interested in writing something like this, but if your requests are open (and if you're interested), would you be willing to write some fluffy stuff? An Alastor x Shy/anxious reader, perhaps?

a/n: hello!! i'd love to write some alastor comfort fics based off shy/anxious readers but for now here's some good ol' fluff for the soul ♡ (with a mentioned quieter/shy reader)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You can always tell when Alastor's smiles are forced.

It's the subtle twitch of his eye, the annoyed little glare he'll stare into empty space with, the way his jaw gets so taut you're afraid it'll snap.

Quiet and observant, you've made it your personal duty to learn Alastor inside and out without stepping on his toes—watching how he grows increasingly annoyed with every brazen sex joke beat into his head from a distance but never actually having the nerves to talk to him.

You think you can read all his little tells by now. How his antlers get a little bigger with every huff of indignation. How his mind is never in the room (he's got a lot of souls screaming in his ears, after all. You learned that, too).

You thought you knew him just by watching, but you were wrong. Dead wrong. Alastor is an enigma, truly one of the great mysteries of Hell. You were foolish to think you could understand even half of him.

He's all bared fangs and glowing eyes right now, a hand squeezing your hip and the other tracing down your face. Waltz music faintly fills the lobby of the hotel where you both stand, but it feels like a million miles away when the static from the Radio Demon is sizzling in your ears.

His smile is impossibly relaxed, not an ounce of irritation in his expression that you've gotten so used to seeing all over his face. You can't comprehend this, can't understand why he's looking at you so softly and cradling your face with so much care.

It's bad enough that he had asked you to dance with him in the first place, and that you'd squeaked out a "yes" before considering the implications of that. He knew you were shyer than the rest of your friends here—perhaps he had been suspicious of you and wanted to get a closer look.

A dreadful chill runs up your spine and you shudder pathetically, eyes screwing shut as you await whatever fate will befall you in the hands of an Overlord.

But your judgement never comes.

Instead, his thumbs gently pull at your cheeks in opposite directions. When your eyes fly back open, you're face-to-face with nothing but warmth.

"You should smile more," he tells you without his usual facade of excitement. "It's wonderful."

You just stare at each other for a long moment, both frozen in place with his hands all over your face and you limply staying in his hold.

Oh no. Oh no no no. You're certain your cheeks are hot as magma right now because of some simple flattery. Then again, you've been watching him from afar for long enough to know that he doesn't flatter just anyone.

You jerk away from him with a nervous cough, but he catches your wrist and pulls you back into his chest. As if nothing had even happened, he guides and strings you along in a waltz once more.

Annoyance, anger, sadistic joy—these are all things that come as easy as breathing to Alastor. But this is a new emotion you're witnessing, with his ears pulled back flat against his head and his eyes avoiding yours even as he dances with you.

It makes you sputter in laughter, head tilting back as you giggle at how embarrassed he seems.

"Thank you."

He softens at this, smile genuine. You'll come to know this side of him, too. You're sure of it.

You don't know why you were ever so afraid of this monster. Not when he's automatically reaching out to trace your smile with his thumb as if it's something he's always wanted to do.

(It is.)

[prosciuttulipa]

Period Pain, Go Away

how the JJK men help you through your period

content: afab reader x jjk men, just fluff this time! brief dirty joke in Toji's one (because he's Toji), but every one of them is a good boi in their own way <33

a/n: on my period and am in much pain v_v i can't decide who i want to comfort me, so i'm writing for all of the men i want

Gojo Satoru who isn't just your boyfriend during your period, but a "girl's girl". He wants to spoil you with desserts and eat the leftovers that you can't finish, do face masks with those cute cucumber slices over the eyes. You want a bath? He's already drawing one, dunking in bath bombs till the water looks like a small galaxy, putting on your comfort show so you can watch it while you soak.

Dealing with pain through fun and smiles has always been his way of coping. So, yes—maybe he does look a bit silly, gossiping with you while you paint sparkles onto his nails, his hair tied up with a pink scrunchie. But what's a boyfriend for, if not to be your Ken doll during your time of need?

It hurts him more than he likes to admit, to see you wince at a bad cramp, or come out of the bathroom with the colour drained from your cheeks. When you can't manage anything more than lying in your bed, he'll rest his head against your stomach, peppering kisses wherever it hurts. "Be good to my girl," he'll jokingly threaten your uterus, poking your tummy gently, "she deserves the world."

Geto Suguru who knows your period is coming before you do. Your irritable mood and food cravings clue him in, and he takes action without saying a single word.

The day your period starts, you realise that the feminine products you usually use have been fully restocked without your notice. The fridge is filled with your period cravings, enough to last a week. Before you can even say anything, a large hand wraps around your waist and presses a hot water bottle against your abdomen. "Good morning, princess," he greets you like he hasn't just pulled off what can only be described as a small miracle, "is everything to your liking?"

You don't know whether to laugh or cry at how perfectly he's predicted you. He's a step ahead of you throughout your entire period, knowing which snack or act of affection you want just by your expression. Some might call his behaviour unreasonable; frankly, he thinks it's bullshit. "Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer," is what he quotes, when you ask him why he's so observant. "What makes you think I do not absolutely and utterly worship you?"

Nanami Kento who is obviously written by a woman, and so does not flinch when he sees the blood on the bedsheets when he wakes up earlier than you. Instead, he kisses you good morning till you're giggling, distracting you so you don't get a chance to see the stains. He changes the sheets while you're in the bathroom, throwing them in with the rest of the laundry. When you come back out, worrying you dirtied the bed, he merely shrugs. "I didn't see anything, darling."

He treats you like a queen on the daily, but during your period, you're his empress. Each word is law, each action his cue to immediately come to your aid. He'll cook every meal, and won't let you hold the spoon to feed yourself if he can help it. As far as he can see, your only responsibility this week is to lounge around, and let him spoil you rotten.

He thinks it's a crime that you still have to go to work, when you have to pop painkillers with your breakfast just to make it through the day. "I can take care of you, you know," he'll inevitably murmur, kissing the shell of your ear, "I make enough money to support us both. Take the day off, dearest. They don't need you more than I do."

Toji Fushiguro who manages to piss you off on the first day of your period. "What size pussy you wear?" he calls to ask, when he's picking up your feminine products at the corner store, "gotta make sure I take care of that kitty for all the squeezin' she does on me."

When he gets back home and finishes getting an earful on how you're more than just his pocket pussy, he apologises by scooping you up in his arms. "You know you're more than just a good fuck, doll," his words carry a rare sort of honesty, coming from him. "You're a good woman. My woman. Gun's in the second drawer, sweetheart—shoot me if I ever do wrong by you."

His touches turn softer, the smack to your ass replaced with a squeeze on the hip, kisses on your shoulders. He's got a hand on you at all times, just rubbing idle circles against your stomach or lower back to soothe your cramps. When bedtime comes, he makes you lay on your tummy, massaging away the tension in your muscles until you're all nice and pliant. He may not always know what to say, but he'll be damned if his actions make you feel like he doesn't love you.

[fillinforlater]

On her jeans (Part 1 of 3)

Male Reader x Kim Minji

Length: 3128 words

Tags: backstory, sex as payment, degradation, all things blowjob: face fuck, deep throat, gagging, chocking, throat bulging, rough face sex, training, passive hand job, master/daddy kink, desperate_trainee!Minji

TW: Minji is selling herself here kinda (oh no)

Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing this crazy series with me. Mad lad!

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-

(A/N: Hey you! I know you're reading this. Get ready for your favorite girls to get defiled one-by-one. Goon or go (or something like that, sounded cooler in my head). For everyone else, have fun!)

"Huh? Minji? What are you doing here?" 

Kazuha asks, surprised to see the still-trainee on this floor of the HYBE building, knocking on an unoccupied training room that she has nothing to do with usually.

"I-I came here to ask you about something,” the younger stutters. “I heard you were personally selected for LE SSERAFIM—and that there is some backer for your success. Even th-the group's scandal went away without a hitch. 

“Who is helping you, who is he?"

"What are you talking about?" Kazuha responds, face in scrunches. 

"I know that you know, Unnie," Minji says and catches the door before Kazuha can close it again. "I need answers, please. I-I've seen their plans, this is going to blow up, we'll be a failure, HYBE's loving stock.

"I can't fail this."

Kazuha looks at the determined young girl, her face loosening up a bit, turning from trying to defend her future spot at your side from a new rival to worrying for Minji. She curls her finger and Minji enters the otherwise empty training room.

"You have some dangerous knowledge," the Japanese woman then says. "Asking for this—I think you have no idea what you might get into."

"Doesn’t everyone say this about the industry?" Minji responds with wit and looks at Kazuha's sweaty body in the mirror. "Everyone always shares their doubts, from the moment you start. And now we are here, ready to debut. I know I have talent, but will it be enough?"

"You really want this, Minji?"

"Yes, Unnie, more than anything."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen. Why do you—"

"I'll give you his number." Kazuha sighs deeply, but nonetheless, her words have Minji in a delighted dance. "I'll tell him that you are good, so be good, be honest to him. I'm doing you a favor here."

"Thank you so much, Unnie!"

"But be careful: he is greedy, he wants more than you can imagine, so be ready to give him everything. And also—" 

Kazuha pinches Minji's chin, tilts it towards her piercing eyes and whispers in the most kind yet threatening voice: 

"Never try to get between him and me."

# 

"Oh my—your concept, these plans. They are fucking terrible. It's going to take a lot to salvage this, even you seem to know that, Minji." There is no need for you to hold back. If you think a plan is bad, you better tell someone before they fail. You’ve seen your fair share of bad plans, but not by HYBE and not to this extreme.

"I-I know. I tried to tell them, but the managers just shut me down.” Minji puts her arms back on her thighs. They were just dramatically cast into the air to get her point across, but the young girl saw your unimpressed gaze and quickly got professional again. “They are running us straight into a brick wall."

"I've seen many examples like this. A lot of companies think they can do no wrong, especially when a lot of time has passed since their latest failure." 

You give Minji her tablet back and rest your chin on one hand, the other tapping the giant desk before you. You are deep in thought, at least Minji should believe that. Instead you are looking into her eyes, mariana trenches of passion, hopefulness, determination. Minji has a pretty face, leadership qualities, all the skills of a superstar but most importantly, she has some thick lips that will be perfect for cock sucking. 

Okay, you are getting ahead of yourselves. The other big thing she has is the willingness to trade everything for her dream, for hope, maybe for fame too. She will give her dignity for glory—and you will make her do it right fucking now.

"This is a difficult case," you say slowly, watching her expression shift a bit, not yet gloomy but getting there. "Luckily, I and HYBE still have the time and resources to make your debut a success. People will talk about it for a long time. I can even guarantee you a music show win from the get go."

"Really? Oh my God, thank you so much, sir. You are way too kind." Minji jumps from her seat and takes a deep, formal bow. "I hope I can lay all of this in your hand?"

"You sure can, Minji, but you know this comes with a price, a hefty one at that. This cannot be solved with two phone calls and some convincing. Hell, I barely have any time." You stand up from your chair and look at the young woman, upper body still tilted but her huge eyes fixed on you, now you’re in front of her. You still dwarf her and she only now knows that she is completely outmatched and will pay up.

"I-I will give you everything, as soon as I can," she stutters. "I only need some time and, and—"

"But I need it now, Minji. Right fucking now.

"Get on your knees."

"Sir?" Minji asks, shocked. "On my knees? Do-do you want me to beg?" 

You snort. “I thought you were smarter. What did Zuha tell you exactly?” 

“H-how did you know—?”

“Minji, what you're asking for requires a complete 180. Your entire concept will have to be changed. From what I’ve heard, you need some new songs too. I have someone in mind who can spearhead your group but she's a wildcard, batshit insane really, but the right kind of crazy needed for something like this. But all of this will take a lot of fucking effort, time and money. And I need you to prove your worth, now."

Push down on Minji's shoulders until she winces and sinks to the floor. Black tiles, hard, cold and somewhat reflective. You know that for a moment all of them hesitate when seeing the rough outline of their head mirrored back to them. Are they really going to do it? Is this what they have to sell? Is it worth it? 

Those that stayed are now superstars and because Minji somehow knew about it and had the guts to look for you, there is not a single doubt in you that she will devote herself to you.

"I can make your dreams come true," you proclaim calmly, yet your words put Minji under unbearable pressure. "Fame, money, success are all guaranteed, out of question, beyond that everything is possible. When you just stay there, on your knees and open your pretty mouth—"

A zip and your semi-hard cock is released, to the absolute shock of Minji, whose mental image of her face is replaced by the first phallus she has ever seen before her eyes. 

"—I'll fulfill your desires."

Minji looks up at you and gulps. She thought the auditions and training evaluations were the final tests respectively, but now her entire career comes down to this one huge cock right in front of her. She curses the producers, the managers, those idiots at Ador—their mistakes have to be redeemed by her sucking dick and lowering to the level of a desperate whore.

Minji has no option. Idols are born from hardship and this is just another step, she believes. So her lips part a little, and when she locks eyes with you, they part a lot more. With a satisfied groan, you shove your cock deep into her throat.

"From now on, you'll call me Master. Later will be Daddy, but not until you've proven worthy. Your next few weeks will be rough, new people, new songs, new choreos." The first tears form in Minji's gorgeous eyes as gags bounce through your office. "I don't care how tired or sweaty you are, when I call you, you come to me right after practice, no excuses. You will obey every fucking wish, especially because I have so much work with you."

You drag your balls over her chin, let your cock rest at the top of her mouth and open it wide. Minji is clumsy with her teeth and with the way she tries to dodge your thrust, be it intentionally or out of fear. This is of course vastly inferior compared to a blowjob from all those second and third gen stars you've made big after giving them your big cock.

The only redeeming, already great quality, are her lips. Natural, not a talent or skill. She'd be a lot better just not moving, not thinking, a fleshlight, but how should such a young woman know?

"I assume you're smart enough to understand all this," you tell her expectantly and pull out. Minji leans forward and coughs up her saliva on your floor. You grab her hair and pull it back, get ready to spit at her, but she has wit.

"Ye-yes, Master. Excuse my incompetence, I—you're so big."

"No crying? No regrets? Well, that's more impressive than your blowjob skills. How about you clean up your incompetence?"

You take a step back and pull her face down, down by the hair, onto the tiles where her spurts of saliva lay. Minji hisses out in pain, you know she stares down angrily, shocked at how rude you are to her. She grits her teeth—

"Yes, Master, sorry, Master."

—and begins to lick the floor, slowly and only with the tip of her small tongue.

You are mildly impressed that she adjusted to her situation rather quickly. It is the sign of a prodigy in bloom. 

"I am curious, baby girl. I was informed you didn't really set out to become an idol. So why put yourself through all of this?" You muse and question her. Minji's eyes widened a little, finally shifting from their bristling anger. "Oh, I know everything about you, Kim Minji. It is my job to know and then some. So tell me: what is your ambition? What is your desire?"

"Who doesn't dream of being famous?" Minji says, determination in her eyes which she has pointed at you like sharp, pointy arrows. "I want to be a star, the idol that all my classmates, parents, grown-ups have never seen in me. I want to show them how wrong they were."

"Too bad that even after joining the great and successful HYBE, you are about to be their first blunder," you taunt her and slap her forehead with your cock. "Good thing you're ready to suck cock for some adjustments of their mistakes."

Minji puckers her lips and a bit carelessly gets your cock back onto them, spreading small licks on your cockhead. "This is nothing, I know hardship."

"Oh, 

"You call this nothing?"

You tsk and slap her face with your cock.

"You know hardship? Do tell, Minji..." You grip her head and begin to plunge into her mouth. "Hardship? We haven't even started yet. I'm not even at full size, stupid girl!" 

You see her eyes widening as tears begin to form with your rough treatment. Thinking back to Minji's words, you read her well. People doubted her—you could too. She wasn't so different from the others you've trained. All they needed was education to rely on you, devotion to you and love for you and only you.

"Make sure to keep your fucking teeth off of it," you growl while your fingers search for new ways to pull at her hair, to push her away and then slam her back down on your cock which is finally hardening at the arousal her fearful face brings. The inside of Minji's mouth grows wetter, sloppier, warmer, until suddenly—

The annoyance of her teeth returns and it stings. To start with blowjobs has both been a disaster for your pleasure but intense fuel to introduce Minji to the harsh reality that is you; you and the success that you bring. Everything she has ever wanted, you can bring her, and so she fights trough the tears and accepts that you press her flat on the floor and fuck down into her mouth like it's a pussy.

"Open wide, open wide," you repeatedly command, a hand on Minji's jaw to help her make this command come true. "You useless slut, don't waste your lips on such pathetic blowjobs. Fucking hell, when I'm done with you, you better deepthroat like a mid porn star.

"Fucking waste of my time, you stupid stupid girl. This is the standard HYBE is accepting now? Fuck, maybe we can't even blame the company for your group's future failure—it will all just be on you. If you don't fucking step it up, this is the last time you will ever contact me." 

Gaze still intensely focused on her, you pull out your cell phone and unlock it. You don’t really use it for much, except for phone calls, but this alone makes this device insanely valuable. You however don’t need to make a phone call now. You only need to show Minji one thing: your contact list.

She can see you scrolling past the names of tons of people, all in the industry. Well known producers, managers, executives, staff members, but most importantly, all highlighted by a colorful array of yellow, orange, red and pink: 

The full names of hundreds of female idols. Minji scans through the list, recognizing one Unnie after the other, from nugu second gen groups to absolute super stars.

You pull out of Minji's mouth, give her time to cough up all leftover spit and wipe her tears away. Ultimately, you help her up from the cold hard floor, the only thing still laying on the floor is her pride.

"Do you get it now?" you ask and look at her, eyebrows raised with the highest of expectations.

"Yes, Master."

"Then you know what you have to do."

"De-deepthroat like a p-porn star."

"Can you do that?"

Minji hesitates, something you cannot stand for the love of everything. You grab her hips and throw her on your desk, spin her until her head is hanging off of the table. With no further warning, because she does not deserve those anymore, you press your cock on her lips and fill more than her mouth. Minji's throat starts to visibly bulge from the massive width of your cock. 

Of course she is gagging, kicking her feet but that isn't even a flight response. There is no need for you to pin her down. She wants to stay, wants to become a good slut, a stupid girl that can suck your entire cock. Sadly, her newfound eagerness isn't rewarded with success. She needs training and stretching and so you stretch Minji's throat with lazy thrust and train her nose to accept your balls on them.

"You're so silly, but finally, we have some effort, Minji," you growl and reach into the top of her shirt. "We can work from here."

You fondle her breasts, run your hands down her soft stomach. 

"Good, I can definitely work with this. You remind me of—" 

But you pause, not wanting to divulge any advantages for her to pick up on. She looks like an absolute fuck doll as her head continues hang off the table. Even upside down, it was pretty when stuffed with your cock, your balls now touching her lips with each plunge. 

"Minji, it's not enough to deepthroat like a porn star. You'll learn to deepthroat like one of my perfect sluts, whores. Porn star is a start, but it will soon be an insult to you.”

She had no idea that her consideration as a future perfect whore meant you already took a liking to her. As of now, all she knew—no, all she could think of—was your cock and that she needed to keep her teeth off of it. It needed to fuck her throat if she wanted any chance at a great career. 

And so Minji takes it, acts like a whore who willingly gets gag induced drool over her face, then fat, filled balls on her nose and accepts the greedy hands all over her midriff. Minji always thought that she needs this tight, perfect form for the approvement of the public—now it's you who decides if her body is acceptable and ripe for a fucking. 

Your seal of approval is the frantic way you tear open her shirt, then her bra and start to knead her breasts, while her tongue movements become actually enjoyable. You thrust harder, making Minji's face pale as she struggles to get air. She looks gorgeous like that, so you slap her tummy and before the choking is too hard, you back off and pull your pants up.

"That's it for today," you say as Minji still gasps for air. "From now on, you'll be here everyday after practice."

Short silence, disbelief in her eyes. "H-huh—yes, Master."

"The door will be open. Walk in and lay down on the table, just like this. You will wait until I return or have time for you. It doesn't matter what happens, you will lay there until I am finished with you."

"Yes, Master."

"A lot will change." You rub sweat and spit off her temple with a gentle hand and look at her glassy eyes. "You might not get any sleep at all. Now you will learn true adversity.

"Okay, fuck it. You don't deserve this, but I don't care."

Pull your pants back down and lower your balls onto Minji's mouth. This time, there is no hesitation, and she opens her fuckable lips wide. Her tongue starts to twirl around your sac while you begin to jerk yourself off. When Minji finally starts to suck, you feel a satisfying conclusion to this messy meeting arriving. But—

"Why would I do it myself? Get your hand here!"

You find one of Minji's hands and start to spit on each finger. Like a waterfall, it runs down until you deem it lubricated enough. Then you put them around your manhood and begin to thrust. It's a lot colder than a pussy, but Minji seems to instinctively know how to tighten the gap, the grip, her hand-pussy suddenly becomes worth cumming in.

Take a final breath and climax, each pump sending long streaks of pearly white on Minji's body. You cover her in seed until one long line, from her navel to her throat, forms and you admire how carefully she worships your balls. Wipe your cockhead clean on her hand and make a mental note to have this soft palm be a useful masturbation aid for another time.

"Who would've thought that you're already in love with my balls?" You almost crack a smile through your stone cold facade. "A good sign that you're already a whore."

"M-Master, I..."

"Shut the fuck up.

"Tomorrow, after practice. No underwear, no questions, no one is allowed to know."

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…

I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !

You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wildflowers Grow in Ruins

(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)

Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.

A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.

Wars are exhausting. 

You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.

But waging a war against yourself… 

Now that is pure hell. 

It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.

But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.

He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.

But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.

Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.

The day has finally come to let him go.

You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.

But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.

Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to. 

You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.

But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.

So why is it so hard to let go?

The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today. 

And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.

You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.

Good. 

Good.

Great.

You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.

The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown. 

It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.

Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?

The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.

"I need to talk to you." 

Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.

He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.

"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too. 

This should be easy…

It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.

"I think we should go separate ways."

The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.

"Ok."

It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm. 

"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.

He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.

"Is it because of my work?" 

"No."

"What is it then?"

Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.

Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.

"Hey. Hey."

He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling. 

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?

His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.

And he must hate weakness.

"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows. 

It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.

"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?

"What do you mean?"

He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.

"Have you found someone else?"

What the…

"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"

He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you. 

"I'm just…" 

Jesus, this is just humiliating. 

"I'm just not your type."

"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise. 

He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one. 

Losing you.

"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."

"It's not that. You don't understand–" 

"Try me."

"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"

"Stop right there."

The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.

"Bloody fucking hell…" 

He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven. 

And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"This is the reason you wanna break up?"

Ugh.

"Yes?"

His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing. 

But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.

"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"

"I don't know." 

"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"

"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done. 

"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."

He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.

"Can I touch you?"

You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.

"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.

"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…

"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"

Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.

"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.

"Then why do you think you're not my type?"

"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.

"That for sure ain't true."

"But it is."

He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.

"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to. 

"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"

It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.

"No…?"

"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"

"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.

"No, I don't think I will."

He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.

"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"

You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to… 

It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.

"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."

"Simon–"

"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"

He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is. 

"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."

For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?

"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.

"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."

You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.

"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."

You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.

"Then let me help you."

The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.

"You don't even let me touch you anymore."

It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.

"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."

Oh my God…

Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months? 

That would explain why he has avoided you too…

He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."

"Never seen such a gorgeous mess." 

He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution. 

Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.

"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."

Oh God–

"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."

"Hmh…"

"Don't wanna live without that smile."

You don't have to. 

God, you don't have to…

"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.

"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"

"...Ok." 

He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.

"Come on. Make me believe it."

"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.

"That's my girl."

Oh fuck…

He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly. 

And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?

The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.

"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."

He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.

He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.

He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender. 

No one can fake such fervor.

You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.

"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."

You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.

"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"

"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."

He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.

"Yeah…?"

"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."

His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.

"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."

"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.

"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."

If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.

"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.

"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty. 

"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."

Wow… He is a bit pissed.

Had they checked your ass out when you visited him? 

It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy. 

"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left." 

Whoa. 

Ok…

First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.

You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.

Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…

There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.

"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"

"No. No, I don't want you to stop." 

Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.

He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.

Oh f–

"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in. 

"Uh–...."

Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end. 

"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."

"Oh god…"

There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.

"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you. 

You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.

"Simon–"

His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.

"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."

You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard. 

You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.

"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."

He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.

"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."

The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.

"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"

"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all. 

"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."

Shit…

"I, I'm gonna…"

Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.

He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.

Fucking bastard…

Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core. 

You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.

His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load. 

Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.

"Jesus Christ…" 

He sounds dazed. 

Relieved. 

"Should've done this weeks ago."

You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.

"I should've talked to you weeks ago..." 

"Yeah. You should have."

"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.

"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."

He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even. 

The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…

And love.

[cy-cyborg]

Writing and drawing amputee characters: Not every amputee wears prosthetics (and that's ok)

Not every amputee wears prosthetics, and not doing so is not a sign that they've "given up".

It's a bit of a trope that I've noticed that when an amputee, leg amputees in particular, don't wear prosthetics in media its often used as a sign that they've given up hope/stopped trying/ are depressed etc. If/when they start feeling better, they'll start wearing their prosthetics again, usually accompanied by triumphant or inspiring music (if it's a movie). The most famous example of this is in Forest Gump, Where Dan spends most of the movie after loosing his legs wishing he'd died instead. He does eventually come around, and him finally moving from his wheelchair to prosthetics is meant to highlight this.

The thing is, it's not that it's unrealistic - in fact my last major mental health spiral was started because one of my prosthetics was being a shit and wouldn't go on properly, despite fitting perfectly at the prosthetist's the day before. I'm not going to use my legs when I'm not in a good headspace, but the problem is, this is the only time non-prosthetic using amputees ever get representation: to show how sad they are. Even if that's not what the creator/writer necessarily intended, audiences will often make that assumption on their own unless you're very careful and intentional about how you frame it, because it's what existing media has taught them to expect.

But there are lots of reasons why someone might not use prosthetics:

they might not need them: this is more common in arm amputees because of how difficult it can be to use arm prosthetic, especially above-elbow prosthetics. Most folks learn how to get on without them pretty well. In fact, most of the arm amputees I know don't have prosthetics, or only have them for specific tasks (e.g. I knew a girl who had a prosthetic hand made specifically for rowing, but that's all she used it for).

Other mobility aids just work better for them: for me, I'm faster, more manoeuvrable and can be out for longer when I'm in my wheelchair than I ever could on my prosthetics. Youtube/tik tok creator Josh Sundquist has said the same thing about his crutches, he just feels better using them than his prosthetic. This isn't the case for everyone of course, but it is for some of us. Especially people with above-knee prosthetics, in my experience.

Other disabilities make them harder to use: Some people are unable to use prosthetics due to other disabilities, or even other amputations. Yeah, as it turns out, a lot of prosthetics are only really designed for single-limb amputees. While they're usable for multi-limb amps, they're much harder to use or they might not be able to access every feature. For example, the prosthetic knee I have has the ability to monitor the walk cycle of the other leg and match it as close as possible - but that only works if you have a full leg on the other side. Likewise, my nan didn't like using her prosthetic, as she had limited movement in her shoulders that meant she physically couldn't move her arms in the right way to get her leg on without help.

Prosthetics are expensive in some parts of the world: not everyone can afford a prosthetic. My left prosthetic costs around $5,000 Australian dollars, but my right one (the above knee) cost $125,000AUD. It's the most expensive thing I own that I only got because my country pays for medical equipment for disabled folks. Some places subsidise the cost, but paying 10% of $125,000 is still $12,500. Then in some places, if you don't have insurance, you have to pay for that all by yourself. Even with insurance you still have to pay some of it depending on your cover. Arm prosthetics are even more expensive. Sure, both arms and legs do have cheaper options available, but they're often extremely difficult to use. You get what you pay for.

they aren't suitable for every type of environment: Prosthetics can be finicky and modern ones can be kind of sensitive to the elements. My home town was in a coastal lowland - this means lots of beaches and lots of swamp filled with salty/brackish water. The metals used in prosthetics don't hold up well in those conditions, and so they would rust quicker, I needed to clean them more, I needed to empty sand out of my foot ALL THE TIME (there always seemed to be more. It was like a bag of holding but it was just sand). Some prosthetics can't get wet at all. There were a few amputees who moved to the area when I was older who just didn't bother lol. It wasn't worth the extra effort needed for the maintenance.

People have allergies to the prosthetic material: This is less of a problem in the modern day, but some people are allergic to the materials their prosthetics are made from. You can usually find an alternative but depending on the type of allergy, some people are allergic to the replacements too.

Some people just don't like them.

There's nothing wrong with choosing to go without a prosthetic. There's nothing wrong with deciding they aren't for you. It doesn't make you a failure or sad or anything else. Using or not using prosthetics is a completely morally neutral thing.

Please, if you're writing amputees, consider if a prosthetic really is the best mobility aid for your character and consider having your characters go without, or at least mix it up a bit.

For example, Xari, one of the main characters in my comic, uses prosthetics unsupported and with crutches, and uses a wheelchair. They alternate between them throughout the story.

[awearywritersworld]

do not leave me in this abyss, where i cannot find you

sukuna x reader summary: the higher ups succeed in kidnapping you and sukuna doesn't know if he'll get you back alive. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: fluff and angst. reader is kidnapped and gravely injured. depictions of blood. canon typical violence. "good girl". cursing. ft gojo. aged up!yuuji. fem!reader. not canon compliant. no use of y/n. *please mind the warnings for this chapter* a/n: and finally folks, we've reached the climax of the series. there will only be one more official chapter after this one, so i hope this lives up to expectations. this could maybe be read as a stand alone, but it's certainly better when serving as a culmination to the other chapters. i'm a little nervous posting this, so i'd love to hear your thoughts :) series masterlist // masterlist

brontë

sukuna isn't sure at first why the name is familiar, but he soon realizes that a great many of the books on your shelf are authored by women of that name, including jane eyre.

though he finds your copy of wuthering heights, written by an emily brontë, tucked away in the drawer of your nightstand, the headphones you'd asked him grab lying on top of it.

he pulls the book from its spot with care, as the cover is worn and frayed at the edges. flipping through the pages, there are quite a few quotes underlined and countless scribbles in the margins.

while you'd forced him to read jane eyre, he tucks wuthering heights under his arm of his own volition. he isn't sure if it's because you've kept this one separate from the others, or because it might give him an opportunity to know you better, or because he's positive it will make you happy, but he does it all the same.

when he steps back into the living room, he drops your headphones in your lap and takes the seat beside you, wasting no time in beginning the first chapter.

"what've you got there?" you eventually question, even though you know the answer.

he doesn't spare you a glance when he responds, "a book."

"oh, yeah? what kind of book?"

he elects to ignore you, which only serves to encourage your mischievous tone. "i thought romance novels were beneath you and your refined taste."

finally looking at you, he narrows his eyes at your childish taunt. "do you want me to read it or not?"

"of course—"

"then i suggest you be a good girl and behave yourself."

your mouth snaps shut so abruptly that your teeth click as they meet, something sukuna takes note of with a raised brow. you're thankful when he returns to reading rather than saying anything more.

so without any additional interruptions, he delves into the tragic story of heathcliff and catherine. or more precisely, the pain and destruction that follows it.

the further he reads, the better he discerns that while you seem to have a penchant for the brontë sisters, they seem to have a penchant for writing about men that are wicked and callous.

the very notion makes him chuckle.

maybe it explains why he's sitting here with your feet in his lap, while you try and fail (rather cutely) to stifle your giggles at some stupid youtube video.

"what?" you ask, taking out one of your headphones once you notice he's staring at you with a small smile.

"nothing. just enjoying the story."

the way you beam in response makes his mouth go dry.

"hah! i knew it! you're a romantic at heart."

you make a big show of pressing your hands to your chest and swooning.

"settle down there," he chides, his hand patting your thigh. "you're getting ahead of yourself."

two days later, sukuna feels that something isn't quite right. it's barely perceptible, nothing more than a minute shift in the atmosphere, but it grows more palpable as time stretches on.

yuuji's mission takes him farther from home than usual, to a little town about two hours outside of the city.

the curse he exorcises upon his arrival is much weaker than he's grown accustomed to, probably only a third or fourth grade.

yuuji doesn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, or at least, he pretends not to. sukuna thinks that's the problem with optimists— they don't take action quickly enough, too busy wasting their time hoping for the best.

when he returns home late that afternoon only to find your apartment door slightly ajar, his hand hesitates before pushing it open.

he discovers that the living room is littered with residuals, but it's eerie how nothing else is out of place... save for you, who is no where to be found.

in a disbelieving panic, he begins checking all the rooms, not hearing sukuna's frantic voice even though it's coming from inside his own head. "she's not here... idiot, she's not here. we have to go. we have to go now."

he eventually finds a note lying on the coffee table, but even this he hardly processes— something about surrendering himself and sukuna to the higher ups at headquarters in exchange for your life.

"listen to me, brat... you're wasting time... idiot!"

"what?" he barks abruptly.

"she isn't far, a couple blocks to the east at most—"

"it doesn't matter. headquarters is to the west. that's where we need to go."

"have you failed to comprehend a single thing i've said about the higher ups?" sukuna sneers. "they'll kill us, then kill her too. she knows too much about jujutsu society. they won't let her live, and that's if she's not... if she isn't already..."

he can't get the word out.

"no... no, they wouldn't..."

"now is not the time for your blind faith in the integrity of others." sukuna tries again and again to assume control of his vessel, and while the force behind it makes yuuji's head pound, it's no use. "for fuck's sake— please, yuuji!"

it's the first time he's heard the curse occupying his body say his actual name or use the word please, and in a strange way, it seems to ground him to some degree.

itadori yuuji has always been uncannily fast, but as soon as he makes his way out onto the street, it's like his feet aren't even touching the pavement. he appears as a blur to the people he passes by and it happens so briefly that they more than likely disregard it as a trick of the light.

the ruby decorating your neck leads them right to you, a low hum of frequency that only sukuna can hear.

yuuji comes to a stop in front of an old warehouse building. there are several wooden boards nailed across the main entrance, which splinter and fall to the earth under the impact of his impatient fist.

although the people down the hall quiet themselves upon hearing the crash, he can still sense their energy. he just can't seem to pick up on yours.

maybe sukuna is wrong? maybe you're not here after all.

"no," comes sukuna's voice, cold and hard. "she's here."

he makes his way down the stretch of hallway and to an open door where he stops, both of his feet planting firmly on the ground. everything appears to be frozen as he stares at ten sorcerers who quietly stare back.

it's clear they were not expecting yuuji, but he knows the higher ups assigned so many sorcerers just in case he did somehow figure out where they brought you.

he recognizes many of their faces and even knows some of their names, their familiarity no doubt intended to discourage him from engaging them.

after a few moments, yuuji's eyes land on your figure— motionless on the floor.

he has to admit, the higher up have put together a fairly sound plan. it's just that there's one small detail they failed to account for.

a curious and constraining sensation erupts from the center of his chest, and yuuji doesn't quite understand what's happening until he registers he's no longer the one in control of his body.

the king of curses remains completely still as he studies you from afar with a slight tilt of his head, his mind refusing to believe the scene right before his eyes.

when the gravity of the situation finally settles in, a gut churning agony blossoms in his stomach and bleeds into every part of his body. every bone. every pore. every vein.

the entirety of him burns, both inside and out.

the air in the room is heavy, overburdened with hostility and raw power. it makes the sorcerers' knees buckle and they nearly collapse beneath the immense pressure.

as sukuna takes a step toward the nearest person, the edges of his vision turn white.

he moves with deadly precision, at a speed which very few people on earth could even begin to comprehend.

it's a joke how quickly it's all over.

some of them are in pieces. others have exploded into nothingness. a few are burnt to ash.

in his haste, sukuna nearly misses the final sorcerer. he's probably the youngest of them all, cowering in the corner of the room. his eyes are wide with horror and his body shakes with fear.

"p-please, spare m-me. i didn't touch her," he sputters out.

the laugh that follows is utterly humorless. "do you actually believe that makes a difference to me?"

"i told t-them not to hurt her! i swear. that's how i got this." he points to his bottom lip, busted open and swollen. "she even told me she was sorry that i got hurt... that i didn't have to defend her."

this gives sukuna pause and his jaw clenches as he considers what you would tell him right now were you conscious.

so even as every fiber of his being screams at him to end the sorcerer's miserable, pathetic life... he restrains himself and pins him to the wall instead, pressing a forearm to his throat.

"go back to the higher ups. go and tell them that if anyone lays a hand on her ever again, i will ruin them," he spits, venom lacing each word. "i'll slaughter every last one of them. i'll level their homes. i'll take everything from them. tell them this is a promise they shouldn't take lightly."

when sukuna takes a step back, the young sorcerer crumbles to the ground. "i- i- i will."

"then get out of my sight," he growls.

returning his attention to you, his demeanor shifts in every respect.

you're going to be okay. you're going to wake up. he's going to take you home and it will be like none of this ever happened.

but when he falls to your side, his knees meeting the ground so brutally that it cracks beneath his weight, his conviction falters.

your blood is spilt onto the concrete. your skin is cold. he can't tell if you're breathing. he can't feel your heartbeat.

he determines that the gash across your side deserves his attention first and his hands tremble as they move to cover it.

he puts every ounce of power he has into his reverse cursed technique, but your eyes don't flutter and your chest doesn't rise nor fall.

his palms stain crimson, and while blood has never bothered him before, the fact that it's yours forces the bile to rise from his stomach and into his throat.

and his face is wet.

why is his face wet?

why are his lips trembling?

why is his vision blurred?

he wipes at his cheeks, leaving a trail of your blood across his face in the process.

"no," he chokes out. "please, don't do this. you're fine. please, you have to be fine. please."

the king of curses begs, but he has no idea who his desperation is directed toward. maybe it's you. maybe it's the gods. maybe it's some entity that's unknowable to him.

hell, maybe it's just whoever will listen to him. there has to be someone out there, right? something.

unbeknownst to him, and poetic in sorrowful sort of a way, his next pleas are reminiscent of heathcliff's after he learns of catherine's death.

"be with me always"

"stay with me, angel. please don't go."

"take any form"

"hate me for this if you want, for being the reason you're in this mess. you can't hate me anymore than i already hate myself."

"drive me mad"

"i'll read every single stupid romance novel on your bookshelf. i promise i'll play all of your ridiculous card games."

"only do not leave me in this abyss, where i cannot find you!"

"just don't leave me here without you. i don't want to be here without you.

"oh, god! it is unutterable!"

"please," he whimpers.

"i cannot live without my life!"

"you're everything. you are everything. you can't leave me with nothing."

"i cannot live without my soul!"

"i love you," sukuna laments. "i love you."

he doesn't even comprehend the words that have been tumbling past his lips, because they're coming from a part of himself that he long believed to be dead and buried.

it's the part of him that can feel suffering and regret and loss and love.

it's the part of him that you've been painstakingly unearthing whenever you send a smile his way. whenever you curl into his side. whenever you press your lips to his.

and he's so undeserving of it each and every time. he's known that. god, has he known that.

he thinks bitterly of the night you'd walked to the park together hand in hand— when you told him the universe had sent you to knock him down a peg.

turns out you were wrong.

the universe gave you to him, but only so it could take you away too.

and it won't just knock him down a peg. it will fucking destroy him. it will completely and irrevocably destroy him.

this is what he does deserve.

how is it that you can be both his salvation and his undoing?

"i love you," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper.

it's ironic that the three words he's never once said in his entire life are the only ones he can manage in this moment.

he hears a quiet sigh escape your lips, but he knows that it's just his imagination— nothing more than the universe playing its final sick joke.

the sun is out and its rays are peeking through the window of your bedroom. sukuna thinks it's despicable.

everything should be cold and dark today.

you're lying in bed half dead and the only thing keeping sukuna's sanity intact is the shallow rise and fall of your chest.

he should go to jujutsu headquarters and deliver a slow, painful death to every single person involved in yesterday's events. then he should turn their headquarters to ash and stand there watching until the wind blows every last bit away.

but more than that, he should be by your side, so that's where he's remained.

it's been nearly a day and you still haven't woken up, so he's taken to performing reverse cursed technique on you every few hours.

yuuji had shoko come by last night and she assured him your body just needs time, but sukuna doesn't intend on taking any chances. aside from the brat, there isn't a single sorcerer he trusts.

so naturally when gojo teleports directly in the middle of your living room unannounced, sukuna moves swiftly to his feet and blocks the doorway to your room.

gojo regards him nonchalantly, hiding his surprise that yuuji is not the one to greet him. "what are you doing... out and about?"

"that's none of your concern."

"right. well, i came to check in."

"that's not necessary."

the two men watch one another carefully, before gojo eventually chuckles. "god, you actually care about her. i guess the whole soul thing should have been proof enough, but i couldn't bring myself to really believe it until now."

sukuna doesn't respond, so the other man continues. "you should know that the threat to her has been... dealt with."

"that so?" sukuna asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"mhmmm. word of this spread to the three clans and they agreed civilians have no place in jujutsu politics if it can be helped. not to mention your little... messenger. it all caused quite the ruckus for the higher ups."

"i don't think ruckus is enough to deter them." his tone makes it clear that he feels gojo is wasting his time.

"this isn't the heian era anymore, you know. the higher ups may still be the figureheads of jujutsu society, but they have little say when all three clans concur on a matter." receiving nothing more than a blank stare, he adds, "besides, i'm rather fond of her myself, so i may or may not have made certain threats of my own."

sukuna's eye twitches. "anything else you feel compelled to share before you leave?"

"can i at least see her before i go?" gojo questions, peering over sukuna's shoulder.

"if you do not value your life, i welcome you to try."

a sly grin breaks out on gojo's face.

"eager to make good on your promise of killing me from all those years ago?" he pauses, his hand coming to rest on his chin as if he's pondering something of great importance. "as much as i'd love to see you try, we shouldn't wake our precious sleeping beauty before she's ready, so maybe another time."

with that, he disappears, leaving a very irritated sukuna in his wake.

"our," he repeats under his breath, shaking his head. "that unbearable imbecile."

when he turns on his heel, however, the malicious look is immediately wiped from his face because you're awake.

you're awake and peering at him from behind heavy lids.

"hey," you greet in a small voice.

his eyes grow impossibly soft and he sits on the bed beside you, his hand moving to caress your cheek. your skin is warm again.

"hey, angel."

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[dootdootwriting]

♡ SLEEPING with the genshin men ♡

featuring: albedo; ayato; childe; cyno; diluc; gorou; itto; kaeya; kazuha; thoma; tighnari; venti; xiao; zhongli tw: i say shit once, like a tiny bit suggestive in a couple of them if you squint type: pure fluff; established relationship; sfw pronouns used: none a/n: this idea has been rotting my brain since i thought of it before going to bed a few nights ago and now that i have time to burn i'm FINALLY writing it ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

under the cut for length ♡ it is long ♡

ALBEDO

horrible sleep schedule. is always telling you he'll be "just five more minutes" but you know he won't

he feels bad about it. some of his experiments are time sensitive! you remind him he could have started them tomorrow morning instead of eleven at night

once he does join you in bed, he can be a bit shy. you'll have to actively invite him to lay closer to you

once you do that, he feels totally comfortable!

albedo likes to be close to you, enjoying your body heat as much as he can.

sleeping with him is comfortable. he doesn't exude any heat, but he isn't cold, either - so no matter the weather, he's a good nap buddy

his favorite place to sleep is up on his lab in dragonspine, next to you, in a bed covered in furs and blankets so both of you can be completely tucked in. it's like a cocoon of comfort!

++

DILUC

cannot sleep without you next to him!!

he also often stays up late, but is easily convinced to come to bed. his work can often wait until morning and you are really in need of your favorite pillow

he sighs softly, gives you a quiet smile, and blows out his candle before pulling the covers back and sliding in next to you

diluc likes to hold you while you sleep. it makes him feel safe with you in his arms, held securely against his chest

usually you sleep facing each other with your nose a bit squished between his pecs, but i mean... are you complaining?

diluc is a heavy sleeper and doesn't wake up until either you get up or his natural rhythm wakes him up, usually midmorning.

he is not a morning person. it's going to take many kisses and some coffee to convince him to wake up all the way.

++

KAEYA

has a seven step skincare routine that he does WITH you before bed

it's a really sweet and intimate way to get in the sleepy time mood!

he's not one to take care of himself, but he does care about his appearance. so you two have this now.

kaeya likes to spoon you!

he has one draped lazily over your waist, the other curled up next to his head

he's a light sleeper! he shifts around a lot during the night, but whenever he does, he subconsciously will reach out for you

therefore, if you wake up in the middle of the night, it's a coin toss as to what position the two of you will be in. however, nine times out of ten, some part of him will be touching some part of you

sleepy kaeya brain says make sure you're with him and safe!

he wakes up early to report to the knights of favonius, though it's certainly not below him to indulge a few times a year week sleeping in next to you

i mean, how could he resist?

++

VENTI

little shit (affectionate)

this guy will not sleep until you DRAG him into bed and then he's whining the whole way. why would you go to bed when you could stay up singing and having fun!! what about board games!

and then the minute you finally get him to lay down next to you he's down for the count

venti is also a VERY affectionate guy. so while he sleeps he will cling onto you like a koala

he might drool on you just a little bit

he's a really heavy sleeper but he's also a bit of a kicker

he's fallen out of the bed while still gripping your arm in his sleep on multiple occasions.

sometimes, on rare nights, you'll wake up in the middle of the night to hear him softly humming something, still completely asleep.

CHILDE

as a fatui harbinger, he's out a lot

this means that he really does treasure the time he spends with you, especially at night

he's clingy.

childe will take any opportunity he can for skinship

probably sleeps in his underwear (⌒_⌒;)

he will spoon you, he will hold you against him, he will lay you on his chest

he needs to be touching you at all times. unfortunately, he can sometimes sweat.

he trained himself to be a light sleeper. nothing can sneak up on him, even while he's asleep. he's the perfect protection for his beloved partner!

he doesn't want to get up in the morning. you have to poke him and sometimes drag him o.ut of bed by his ankles.

he whines about it but he loves you. and soon enough he's dressed and on his way to work with a quick kiss goodbye.

++

XIAO

"adepti don't need sleep."

ok, well, it's more awkward when he's standing over your bed just watching you sleep

you have to beg him to either go somewhere else or join you

he doesn't want to leave you to sleep by yourself, unprotected... so he reluctantly agrees to lay down next to you

hm. actually, this is kind of nice.

xiao realizes that actually he is a little bit tired. a lot tired.

he awkwardly opens his arms for you to crawl into, and then once he hears your breathing slow down, he allows himself to close his eyes.

xiao sleeps like a log, for the first time in hundreds of years.

this becomes habit. when he isn't spending the night off hunting monsters, he joins you in bed and allows himself a few hours of rest.

++

ZHONGLI

nighttime is when zhongli allows himself to let go

he trusts you with everything, and therefore, as the two of you are getting ready for bed, while he's washing up, he lets his more draconic features show.

his tail appears, his arms take on a darker shade, bright golden veins just visible, and horns make their way to the top of his head

even his teeth shift, becoming just barely noticeably sharper and larger.

it's in these moments when you remember your lover is an ancient being and quite literally a god

zhongli's demeanor doesn't change, though. he's still a gentleman.

he situates himself in bed first, makes himself comfortable, picks up a book, and invites you to lay with him.

he'll stay up for a bit reading by candlelight with you next to him, until he finally gets tired, snuffs out the candle, places a soft kiss to your temple, and lays down next to you

he's another one that likes to hold you while you sleep.

SLEEPS LIKE A ROCK (literally). you swear sometimes it's like his body temporarily turns to stone.

zhongli's body sleeps on a schedule, so he wakes up at the same time every morning to prepare for work.

if you're still in bed by the time he has to leave, he'll leave a letter on his pillow and a kiss on your head before he goes.

AYATO

the evening is his favorite time of day

(the time when it finally comes to an end)

as the yashiro commissioner, he's busy most of the day, and doesn't often have time to spend with you. while he's around, he can't devote much of his attention to you, which he sincerely regrets.

so nights with him are when he shows you just how much he loves you.

he makes sure you're comfortable and helps you get ready for bed, a routine which includes many many kisses and a few apologies for being busy all the time (you understand, and he knows this, but he likes to make sure you know he still loves you)

ayato likes to hold hands while you sleep. there's something so intimate about it that he's such a sucker for.

he doesn't sleep really lightly or heavily, just sort of in the middle. he wakes up to shift his position a few times a night but that's it.

he's also a sucker for being close to you. you'll wake up learning that at some point in the night, ayato has pulled you much closer to him than you were when you originally went to bed.

he has to wake up early, but he hates it. he leaves a quick kiss on your head before he gets up for work, and will check in with you throughout the day, too.

++

GOROU

loves sleeping with you but denies it

he NEEDS to be holding you while you sleep. ever since the incident with yae miko, he's trying to break the embarrassing habit of sleeping with his tail in his arms, and he figures you're the perfect replacement!

light sleeper and twitches in his sleep, a bit like dogs when they dream. it's adorable

subconsciously pulls you closer to him while he's asleep, too. having you near him is comforting.

he's incredibly warm! and his tail is SO fluffy. you might want to sleep on opposite sides of the bed during hot weather.

he hates this though, and you'll probably wake up in his arms. he'll deny moving you and say it must have been you who craved his hugs, not the other way around.

++

ITTO

BIG BAN BIG MAN

he's such an affectionate guy too. just be careful of the horns

his favorite position to sleep in is on his back with you on his chest. he WILL trap you with his arms

doesn't mean to trap you. but he's just so big and strong... it just kind of happens!

snores. it's annoying but endearing. he doesn't even know he's doing it

when he snores, the bridge of his nose will scrunch and it'll look a bit like he's snarling. sometimes his huge teeth come out

he's big, so he also exudes a lot of heat. however, unlike gorou, he won't even let you sleep on the other side of the bed

he Will hold you. there is no escape. he sleeps really soundly and pretty much doesn't move an inch all night.

itto is not a morning person. you have to shake him awake and then he whines about it.

++

KAZUHA

A SWEETHEART

he helps you get ready for bed and then tucks you in and everything <33

actually kazuha really likes to sing you to sleep or recite a poem for you before bed!

won't overtly cuddle you unless you ask for it, but is never opposed to it!

he's just not really sure how to handle it sometimes, so he just kind of keeps to himself unless either of you are feeling particularly affectionate

as time passes, he becomes more confident, and needs more and more cuddles.

kazuha is a light sleeper, but is quiet and careful enough never to wake you up when he does in the middle of the night.

he likes to wake up at the same time as you, so if he wakes up first, he waits for you before starting his day.

++

THOMA

warm warm warm warm

when it's cold out, he's the perfect bedtime buddy. when it's warm, you two sleep on opposite sides of the bed with pinkies intertwined in the middle

like kaeya, he likes to wash up thoroughly before bed. sometimes he even does his hair so it'll look nicer when he wakes up

on nights when it's warm, somehow, in the middle of the night, despite starting on opposite ends of the bed from one another, you'll find that you gravitated towards each other and met in the middle.

he laughs and apologizes and offers to sleep somewhere else. you refuse and hug him even closer

thoma really loves physical affection while sleeping

his favorite is sleeping facing each other, and sometimes you two find yourselves staying up until the early hours of the morning talking until he realizes it's one am and he has work tomorrow.

always leaves you a kiss and a note before he leaves to tend to the kamisatos. and of course you're always welcome to visit!

CYNO

very awkward about sleeping with you

he's just nervous! you have to reassure him you're comfortable around him and would, in fact, prefer he sleep next to you comfortably than on the floor.

it takes him a while to warm up to the idea, and starts off very stiff, but over time, he learns that in fact, he sleeps much better when you're there with him.

cyno sleeps deeply, and doesn't shift much throughout the night. you could probably use him as a pillow if you wanted, he wouldn't object.

he likes when you sleep on his chest the most. the pressure of you being on him is very comforting and he likes having his arms around you.

he calls himself your "general mahamattress," and proceeds to overexplain even though the joke is rather clear. he's very sweet about it.

++

TIGHNARI

sleeping near a loved one is good for your brain!!! there's science to back it up!! probably!!

snuggles you like a koala when you sleep together. there's no escaping tighnari's grip of death.

before he discovered sleeping next to you, it was pretty difficult for him to get to sleep on time.

therefore, in case it's a rough night, he has a bunch of herb remedies for insomnia that are tried and true, his own recipes

he's found that a dab of sweet smelling flower dew on your forehead helps with sweet dreams, and while you're sleeping with him, you rarely have nightmares.

tighnari and his bushy tail are here with you to chase away the monsters!!

he's a forest ranger and a fox. and he gets up when he WANTS. do not try to drag him out of bed you will be (gently) bitten.

also twitches in his sleep. creacher. you know how it is with animals.

basically a gigantic cuddle bug, and pretty much willing to admit it.

[dollfacefantasy]

Hey girly, love ur writing!!! could you do a leon x fem reader and they are doing the deed and there are other people there are they are tryna stay quiet 🤭🤭 like i lowk imagine leon being kinda needy but idk! thank u girl!!

thank you so much and ofc, here's a little drabble for this <3

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, exhibitionism (someone else in the room)

"Leon. Be quiet. He's gonna wake up," you whine, taking extra care to keep your voice lowered.

"I'm trying, baby. Not my fault you're so fucking tight," he murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You had picked up your boyfriend and his friend Chris from the airport earlier that day. It was a long drive. Apparently their sectors of the government didn't have the competence to drop them a little bit closer to where you lived. You had insisted on just driving through the night, but Leon and Chris were exhausted. They wanted to stretch out on a bed and pass out for the night. Even if the hotel you'd come across only had one available room left.

You feel another moan about to seep from Leon's lips. In an effort to prevent this, you dig your nails into his forearm which was over your chest. His hand rested on your throat, giving him leverage to continue plowing into you from behind.

The little crescents do nothing to silence him and only serve to turn his low pitched moan into a needy whine.

"Leon, shut up!" you whimper.

Your eyes are locked on Chris as your boyfriend ruts into you. His hips smack against your ass, but he's not going fast enough to make any disturbing noise.

"Hush, honey, he sleeps like a fucking rock, trust me," he whispers.

He aims to reassure you with some wet kisses behind your ear. You knew this was wrong and that you should've protested. If Chris did wake up, you'd be humiliated and guilty. But fuck, he just felt so good.

His cock keeps sliding into your soaked cunt just right. Each stroke hits another mark of pleasure. It was a miracle you were able to keep some semblance of composure. To keep yourself quiet, you clutch the blankets in your fists though, so hard it nearly pains you. Leon didn't have the same discipline. This entire time his panting and whimpering drips right into your ear. The noises were among your favorites in the world, always guranteed to make you squirm.

"That's it. That's a good girl," he coos upon hearing no further protests, "Just relax for me, babydoll."

The thought was a persuasive one. You could feel yourself beginning to melt into the crisp hotel sheets just like how you would in your own bed at home. Half of your face presses against the pillow case. His hips never stop moving beneath the blankets. He couldn't get enough of your velvety warmth wrapped around him.

As you feel yourself starting to build to that sweet release, you see Chris start to shift. Your eyes had been locked on him the whole time, preparing for this exact scenario. Panic floods your mind. Had he been awake since the beginning? Had he been watching? Was he pissed?

Your heart pounds even harder against your ribcage as your fingers release the blanket and return to his arm.

"Leon!" you gasp.

He can tell from the infliction in your tone that it's not a gasp of ecstasy. His thrusts come to a screeching halt. His eyes that were half-lidded with a combination of lust and fatigue open a little more. He spots the same movement you did.

Fairly certain it was some usual tossing and turning, he pulls you closer to his chest and nuzzles the side of your head.

"Stay quiet, babe. We're gonna be fine," he whispers even quieter than before.

The two of you do exactly that. You stay still and silent. It was kind of nice, the calm feeling of just being full without any sparks of pleasure. But Leons arm begins to move.

Your eyes dart down and watch his limb slither below your t-shirt and up to your breast, taking one of the warm mounds in his hand. He just rests it there as the both of you continue to pretend to sleep as if he needed to feel more of you. Being buried inside of you just wasn't enough to sate his desire.

As soon as Chris has settled facing the opposite direction and you're both confident he's fast asleep, Leon begins pumping his hips again. And with the return of the movement, comes the return of his noises. He grunts, groans, mewls. Anything he needs to in order to spur on his own release.

You just let him this time without any complaints, figuring he may finish and get you to finish a bit faster with the lack of bickering.

His cock begins to pulse within you. As his thrusts get sloppier and a bit more erratic, you know the end is near. Your hand delves down between your legs, pads of your fingers rubbing at your clit a little to give yourself that extra friction needed to join him.

He cums first. His hips stop, pelvis flush against your backside. At first, you're sure he's gonna wake someone. His noises are only a little louder, but they're much more frequent. You feel him spill every drop within you as he shoots rope after rope. You're not far behind and cum a few seconds later. Your legs twitch as your walls clamp down around his already sensitive length, drawing more needy sound from him.

While the two of you come down, he murmurs into your ear. His words are all breathy from the bliss that had just entered his system.

"Christ, angel. So perfect for me," he says with a small kiss to your head.

You reciprocate the affection, but some anxiety still lingers within you.

"You really think he didn't hear?" you ask, looking up into his eyes for reassurance.

"No way. We're clear," he says, granting your wish before grinning at you, "Besides, if he did, I'm sure he'd enjoy the show."

Your eyes widen at his little clip and you lightly pinch his bicep. "Shut up. For real this time," you tease.

"You got it, boss," he says, planting one more kiss on your lips.

You roll your eyes but still get comfy in bed as he pulls out and fixes the two of you. After falling back into position, it's not hard to fall asleep. You fit against each other perfectly. His chest is so warm against your back. Everything just feels right, especially since you were sure you'd just pulled off the heist of the century.

You fall asleep on cloud nine but are quickly brought back to reality the next morning when the three of you check out. You're carrying your bags out while Chris holds the door for you. Leon's putting things in the trunk already, eager to get home and have some true alone time with you.

As far as you knew, you were in the clear. That was until Chris gave the room one last glace and then turned his gaze to you.

"The next set of people better hope they clean the sheets really well," he says with a teasing smile.

[impactedfates]

Love In Different Shapes - Various HSR Boys x GN! Reader

★ Summary: Your lover loves to show that they love you, however some of their methods to do so, aren't something you'd expect - i.e HSR Boys and their love languages (but it's not your typical love language)

☆ Characters Included (Separate): Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Blade, Welt, Luka, Sampo, Gepard, Loucha + bonus character

★ Genre/Trope: Romantic + Crack (?)

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: Just had random thoughts about HSR characters love language and decided to write about what theirs is in my opinion - just not your typical ones. // Not proof read - we die like Himeko // There's a HSR Girl version as well! Right here.

Dan Heng shows his love unintentionally by staring at you. Just full on staring. I mean, I'm sure most of us agree that Dan Heng is a man of few words, but I feel like you could be getting up to get water and you'll come back to Dan Heng staring at you. You might think 'oh, he wants me back in bed'

no.

He's just staring very lovingly at you, as creepy as it is. He wants to make sure he sees you. He can't explain why it gives him comfort to just look at you or why he decides to show that he cares about you this way. But he does! It's his way of saying he cares, and although not many may see it as him showing his love to you. Both you and him know what it means when he decides to look at you for more then 5 minutes without talking.

Somehow, Jing Yuans love language consists of making sure you aren't able to do your work. Somehow his love language is doing everything in his power to get you to pay attention to him.

You know those videos of cats knocking over a cup? That's him, and all he wants is your attention. He loves seeing what ways make you look at him, even for a split second. Would it be a surprise kiss? Softly rubbing your arm up and down? Knocking over an expensive vase??

He wants to find everyway to ensure you look at him with those pretty eyes, and as confusing as this love language may be to others. He truly does just enjoy messing with you.

Biting. I will not elaborate (Well I am but-)

Blade just bites you. Not harshly, just nibbles. You could just be doing some work, and your neck or shoulder are exposed, he'd just come up to you and just.

Nom.

You have so many bite makes because of him, but he doesn't care. He's at work often and as much as I'm sure he loves kissing you. He loves biting you playfully just as much. The amount of bite marks around your body that keeps multiplying is just a show of his love to you.

Welt shows his love by drawing you. He loves sketching you doing whatever and showing you. He enjoys looking at your face and capturing every detail with a stroke of a pencil. He probably has a sketch book dedicated to drawings of you, but most are ripped out as you stick it on your wall.

If you offered to model for Welt he'd be more then happy and ensures to be extra careful - not like he wasn't before but he wants to capture every single detail there is that he sees. And honestly? If you were to draw your own drawing of him then he'd be so happy. It's stuck on his wall, it's his wallpaper and it'll even by his profile picture for awhile.

Luka shows off. He's one of the guys that's like

"This is for you babe!"

But he fails, miserably even. He's usual so good at showing off, but when he tries to show off to you to show you how much he absolutely adores you he fails.

Every.

Single.

T i m e.

It's okay though, you get the gesture. You understand what he's trying to do, even after the countless fails. He wants to be successful even once as he feels if he continues failing you won't love him anymore.

You do though, you understand. And honestly? It's kinda cute how hard he tries trying to score a basket just to show you he loves you.

Reverse scamming (credits to my friend for this idea :D)

Sampo loves scamming others, but you? You're no exception sadly. On the other hand, how he scams you isn't what you'd think. He'd maybe scam you until getting what YOU want. Now what HE wants. Sometimes he may even scam you to get just a simple kiss or a hug.

You try to tell him if he wants a kiss or a hug he can just ask, but he finds it more fun this way. And you may even try to convince him to stop "scamming" you into getting the things you want, but he also refuses.

We all know Gepard is trying to garden and failing (I think) right? So what does everyone think of getting a half wilted flower from this man :D

He tries I swear, he just cannot do it correctly. You may even just get a tomato as an anniversary gift as he just couldn't take care of the flowers he was trying to grow for you. Bro may be more upset with being unable to grow you the best flower then he is about not catching Sampo.

He keeps trying and failing but, he still gives it to you in hopes you'll accept it! You will right? Even if he's given you a potato that's about to go bad?

Loucha can and will pat your head to show how much he loves you. As a merchant and a doctor, he doesn't necessarily have the time to sit down and relax, and even so. He doesn't seem like the type to want to. However he doesn't want his partner to feel neglected either, so to sure that he does love you so you don't forget. He pats your head with a small smile.

It doesn't even matter if your taller then him, he'll find a way to pat your head, whether it be to punch you in the stomach so you can bend over, pull you down by your collar or even just climbing onto his coffin to just pat your head a few times. He will pat that head of yours so you're reminded he still loves you despite his schedule.

Dr Ratio definitely info dumps to show his love. I don't even know much about this man yet but I know for a fact that he'd be casually talking about the history of something or in general just anything he knows whilst you two are eating.

He'd say something that's so jaw-dropping and continue eating and I love him for that. He seems sweet honestly, and if you want to info dump about anything you like? He listens with such intent, asks questions and remembers every word. I love him so much (I know he isn't out yet but-)

Hehehe. I spent a good bit rambling with my friend about certain HSR characters "unusual" love language and decided to write one! It's not proof read as most of the time, my rambles aren't proof read. But as always, if I messed some spelling or grammar up. Inform me and I'll fix it :D

[astrophileblogs07]

Astro Observations pt.21

Back with some very random Astro observations 😁

⚫ Saturn aspecting the 7th house actually can dislike 9 to 5 jobs or corporate office jobs. They are better with freelancing. Its coz they can't take orders. Sorry not sorry. 💀(Ig that's a Saturn 7H thing 😆)

⚫ An interesting thing I observed: Among two siblings, the elder one has Leo rising which means Scorpio 4H and the younger one has Scorpio moon. And their Mom is a Scorpio moon too. She's a nice lady though but is such a control freak. (I know I am one too, but like when I met her the second time that "controlling" vibe just hit me like a big yellow school bus 🚌😭😭). That was so funny lol😂. -All the more her birthdate is a single digit 1.(these people are the alpha type, always lead and never follow and hence are dominating, one to have the last say) which is cherry on top. -She is fiercely protective of her kids. Can't emphasize enough on "fierce" part. Very strict. Rules are to be followed very religiously. {She can't stand any one of them doing anything without her knowledge. She even monitors whom they interact with what they do on their mobiles etc.(from what I suspect)} (obv Scorpio moon mom traits) (sometimes Leo moon moms too){nothing unhealthy here, just Mom's way of showing they care 😂}

⚫Saturn and Workout: -Workout 🏋️‍♀️requires CONSISTENCY. Saturn LOVES consistency. -In fact the best remedy for Saturn is sweating. JUST SWEAT by hard work. No matter what it maybe: workout, walking, jobs, cardio, sports etc. 🤸‍♀️🚴‍♀️🏋️‍♀️

⚫ Whilst on the topic of Saturn, people who follow a time table for literally everything the planet doesn't harm them much during its Dasha (even if its your worst one). I mean obviously you played by the rules 🤷‍♀️

⚫ Magha is the only nakshatra for which you don't need in depth compatibility match. They get along with everyone.

⚫Scorpio Venuses/8H Venuses are paranoid. They notice and suspect everything (sometimes things which are not there/imaginary). (For eg, me, who thinks that someone is peeping thru my curtains even when nobody is there and all my curtains cover my windows properly. 🤣).

⚫Also as a basic Scorpio Venus behavior: while writing chats/texting, I always think- "what if someone else reads it?"..so I just don't give much details in texts. (Gosh, sometimes I think somethings wrong with me 😭😭)

⚫The proven way to hurt a Leo moon: compare them with any other person and tell them that the person is wayy better in a certain thing esp if it's a triat that the Leo is proud of. 🤣 (P.S don't do that, its mean and the Leo will hunt you, which you don't want 😀.)

⚫Why do Aries moon men have a bunch of good friends for life and Aries moon women struggle with having at least one good genuine female friend for life? (I'm jealous)

⚫ Maybe its becoz they get along more with guys than gals so the girls are jealous of them...so hence no good female friends. 😢🤡 Aries moons are the best-est people for friendships you'll ever get.

⚫ People born on a Saturday look melancholic.

⚫ You can NEVER mislead a Leo rising. They study litreally everything: what you say what you do, and why you do so. Similar to Scorpios

⚫If you see a person having graceful and "royal" way of walking or behaving, they're are sure shot to have a Magha Ascendant.

⚫Connecting the dots here: as I said in one of my previous posts that Maghas get framed even when they have done nothing, what I interpreted is that Maghas are actually the definition of royalty. They literally have that ✨grace✨, that kinda magnanimous personality and similar struggles to a monarch. Totally King/Queen typa energy here. So with that, the usual consequences in a Kingdom is conspiracy against the king, which the Maghas face. (Enough with Maghas ig, started observing them recently so..✌🏻💀)

That's it for today, until next time! (like,comment and reblog loveliesss❤❤😘)

[allfearstofallto]

Okie so we've had childe meeting scara's wife, but what about scara meeting childe's wife for the first time? If not can we hear more about the first one?

- 🍓

You are so right strawberry!! My dumbass really forgot that I could write the scenario going the other way!!

Scaramouche Meeting Childe's Wife

Yandere Childe! x reader x Yandere(?) Scaramouche

After almost a year of Childe fawning over you, the look of disinterest his coworker gave you was rather refreshing. The man, only a head shorter than Childe and obviously much more frail looking, had a scowl that could kill. You wondered how long it took to get a look that aggressive, but somehow still elegant on his delicate features.

“And this is my lovely wife!” Childe said rather excitedly and the man merely rolled his eyes.

“It's very nice to meet you,” you muttered softly, he didn't have much in the way to say back. Despite the cold of Snezhnaya he was wearing a shirt that barely went down to his elbows, shorts, and sandals. The cold of Snezhnaya wasn't normal, it felt like the air was biting you. You couldn't even leave the house without a few good layers, yet here he was walking through it with ease, “You're not dressed well for the weather.”

Another glare was shot your way, his eyes colder than the snow, “Skip the pleasantries. I'm here because I have to be. Don't pretend you want to speak with me.”

You didn't even dare look at Childe after the man spoke. He was always so quick to anger, especially when it came to you. Childe had very few loyalties in his life, one of them being the Tsaritsa, the other being you. He often told you how easily he could and would turn on anyone else if needed be, and it seemed this coworker was going to be no different.

“Number six,” you could hear that he was forcing the words through gritted teeth, “Perhaps I wasn't clear when I told you that I love my wife more than anything in this world.”

“You were clear. But perhaps I didn't care,” the man was bold, you'd give him that. And despite how rude he was being he still walked further into the home, taking off the large ornate hat he was wearing and letting you finally see how beautiful his silky, indigo hair was.

Childe followed soon after and the two of them went to talk. You could already tell that he wasn't completely friendly with this coworker, out of the many you'd met. You knew more harbingers than the average person did in a lifetime, more than you wanted to as well, but this one was the first one you'd seen be blatantly disrespectful.

But as they sat and chatted amongst themselves about missions and quite honestly, things you didn't understand, your mind still thought about how underdressed the man was. There was no way Childe would let him stay overnight, not with the way he was acting and Snezhnaya only got colder when the sun was down. You didn't want to just send him out into the elements.

“Could you bring me a spare jacket, and maybe some snow pants and boots,” you asked a maid and she was quick to drop what she was doing to scurry off and find things for you. In less than thirty minutes, everything was handed to you, neatly folded.

The meeting only lasted two hours and both Childe and his co-worker were leaving the office. You wondered if he ever got sick of scowling so much. Or if he ever even showed interest in anything at all.

Childe was walking faster than usual, probably trying to quickly get the man out of the house, but you stopped him, holding up the clothes that you'd acquired. The way both men looked at you made your heart sink to your ass, your orange haired husband had so much fury in his eyes from your kindness to the other, but didn't stop you.

“It's…it’s just cold out there,” you muttered, hoping that Childe would understand your explanation. He allowed the other man to take the clothes, a gentle smirk on his face.

Throughout the whole day, you'd never seen him with anything but his usual frown, you weren't even aware that he could smile, “Such thoughtfulness. I see why number eleven is interested in you,”

The door to the home was opened and the man ushered out. He was still holding the items you'd given him, not wearing them, but you didn't want to tell him to stop. Not while Ajax was looking at you so angrily. You didn't want to cause even more misunderstandings.

“Scaramouche,” he said while still walking out the door. You must've made a noise of confusion because he elaborated, “I'm called Scaramouche. And I'll see you soon.”

[luveline]

Hey jade, I hope you had a good Christmas,

Love your writing so much it brings me so much serotonin 🤣🤣 I have a request for hotch if you’d be up to it, I just love this man’s patience and understanding and would love to see him interact with reader who struggles with sex? Or just sexual stuff in general, like maybe she feels really embarrassed about it and doesn’t know how to talk about it with him? Idk if this is something you’d be interested in just thought I’d throw it out there. Regardless, I can’t wait to see what you post next ♥️♥️♥️

hotch lends you some comfort when a certain topic flusters you, 1.1k

cw adult themes, mdni 

“It's almost cheaper to have kids.” 

You scoop your gaze from the deodorants. “What?” you ask, looking first to Hotch, and then to his eyeline. “Oh.” 

The grocery store boasts a few rows of contraceptives. Condoms, dental dams, and under that, lubes and stimulants in candy rainbow colours. Thirty one ninety nine for silicone-free, aloe vera flavoured lube. Twenty seven for o-gel. 

You avert your gaze without fact-checking him on the condoms, laughing awkwardly as your heart races. “Right.” 

“I'm kidding. Just feeding Jack is a surprising expense.” He says surprising like it's delightful. “Good thing we have cushy jobs.” 

Oh, he's feeling funny tonight. Your laugh is authentic as he takes your arm, the basket in his other clinking as he starts forward again. You finish your quick stock up and Hotch pays for your things despite your protests, packing you and the bags into his ‘cushy’ car. 

You're a little embarrassed in the passenger seat. Your relationship with Hotch is complicated in that while you're in the official early days, you pined for a long time. You're undoubtedly in love with him, and though he's your boss and your senior, he seems to have taken a similar liking to you, hence another chilled out date night upon his invitation. And you've you've messed around like teenagers with kisses too hot and hands wandering, but you haven't fucked, and it's a problem, because your usual awkwardness around the subject grows bigger the longer you wait. 

Hotch can wait forever if he wants, you're not trying to rush him. If he wanted to fuck you tonight you'd probably be too nervous anyhow. 

You can't talk about condoms. How are you going to cope when you have to use one? 

Your stomach churns the longer you think about it. Hotch doesn't react at first, but you know he's figured you out when he covers your hand atop your knee and gives it a squeeze. You okay?

“Can we turn on the radio?” you ask. 

His hand lifts away slowly. He turns on the radio, and you think, oh, he's mad. No, not mad. Irritated, maybe, or confused. That's not fair to him. You think it anyway, sick to your stomach as he parks in the parking garage under his building and you make your way up. 

He doesn't pull any punches —as soon as you're inside with your shoes off and the door locked, he puts the groceries on the counter and looks at you until you meet his eyes. 

“I'm sorry,” he says. 

“What for?” you ask, startled. 

“I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to imply anything before you're ready.” He's handsome like this, earnest, his eyebrows raised and an inviting palm held open on the counter beside him. “It was a poorly judged joke.” 

“No, no, I,” —you bring a hand to your mouth, cover it, uncover it— “don't mind if you want to joke about it. It would be weird to care, right?” 

He hears an insecurity in your tone you don't mean to reveal, and he pieces it together swiftly. Understanding lines his eyes. “I don't think so,” he murmurs. 

You're embarrassed beyond words, but he is your boyfriend. He asked with a little expensive bracelet and your favourite baked treat from the bakery near work. You'd only ever mentioned it once, but he remembered. He knows you well, and he's never given you reason to be afraid of his reactions. 

“It's just so embarrassing,” you mumble, staring down at your socks. 

“What is?” he asks, crossing the kitchen to take your hands. “You don't have to be embarrassed about anything, you're perfect.” 

Your breath catches, your neck cracking uncomfortably as you look up. “I– I don't know how to talk about it. I know it's childish.” 

“No, it's not. It's a big thing, and it comes naturally to some people, but not everyone.” His brow furrows a little, the warm depth of his voice working to unspool the tight panic you'd been clinging to, “I'd never push you to do something you're not ready for.” 

“I know that. It's not you. And I don't know if I'm ready or not, it's just–” Your face is hot enough to boil rain. You shake your head. It's too difficult to explain. 

Hotch ushers you into his solid chest. “It's okay,” he says, patting your back gently. “Don't worry about it.” 

“I want us to be like everyone else,” you confess. 

“We are. You're not the first woman to get nervous about the idea of intimacy, sweetheart, I promise. And I'm not the first man to make a bad joke about contraceptives.” He laughs as you laugh, two huffing chuckles as he presses his lips to the top of your head. “You can take as much time as you need to get used to the idea, and if it's still weird when you're ready, does it matter? We'll be weird about it together. Or we won't be. Okay?” 

“Yeah, okay… thank you, Aaron.” 

“I waited a long, long time for this,” he says, giving your back a pointed little squeeze. “And it's more than I ever thought I'd get. I'm not worried about the rest. I'm in no rush, and you shouldn't be either.” 

You hide your face in his chest for a while, somehow more embarrassed than when you'd started. He draws lines up and down your back with his palm patiently. “It's okay,” he says again, kissing the side of your face. After a moment, he encourages your head back with a hand on your cheek, checking your expression carefully before leaning in for a kiss. His hair tickles your forehead. 

To your relief, it doesn't make you nervous. He probably never could, not when he's touching you so softly. 

You're feeling a hundred times better when you pull away. A tad mortified still, but relieved to know your struggle with talking about it isn't a turn off. If he can stick with you through this bump in the road, you can try, at least, to overcome it. 

“Is lube really thirty two dollars?” you ask in a whisper. 

“I don't know. I've never needed it.” 

He spends the next ten minutes laughing and apologising sincerely as steam pours out of your ears. 

[yourdoorisunlocked]

What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 2

🎙️【 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑰𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑽𝑰 】🎙️

𝐀/𝐍: Been cooking' this one up for a while now (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I'm not entirely averse to writing smut, just inexperienced at it lmao. I won't gatekeep, though. If the people ask, then they shall receive.  

Enjoy!

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑,𝟖𝟎𝟗 𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝓼𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓲𝓼 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮… | 𝓬𝓲𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓪

. . .  

The scent of bitter steamed coffee beans brought great relief to the pent-up radio host as he silently poured himself a cup with a content, close-lipped smile.  

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Alastor looked out the window to catch an eyeful of the radiant sunrise that had graced the horizon and streamed curves of sunlight into his manor, basking it in a feverish crimson glow that faded into a brilliant vermillion.  

Fingernails rapped against the cold marble counter as he took a sip, rejuvenating himself into the chatterbox of a radio host that he usually was. As he hummed along to a little tune in his mind, Alastor allowed his thoughts to silently drift away from reality as he pictured the lovely little dame sleeping the morning away just a door away from his own room. 

You had done something to him, and despite his persistent Cheshire grin, madness and uncertainty lurked beneath his charming expression that won the crowds over wherever he went.  

He couldn’t help it. You were just so unbothered, which bothered him to no end.  

The problem was, you just didn’t care about how renowned nor how respected he was not only as a radio star, but also a man. You were normally quite modest, as was the custom for his time, but had no issue with sticking it to disrespectful scum that dared to cross you, and by extension, him.  

Though, he supposed he didn’t mind it as much as it used to. It had irked him when you had first met, when you treated him as an old friend you met on the schoolyard rather than an esteemed man of his time, your clear superior in every facet.  

But now, after all the evenings spent dancing the twilight away, soft-spoken poetry beside the fire, and spending sleepless nights tossing and turning in his bed, with a heat in his lower abdomen and a sudden urge to visit your chambers in the middle of the night...  

The mere thought of you was becoming unbearable, yet a Godsent blessing all the same.  

Alastor took another long, slow sip of coffee and turned his attention to the radio just left of him. It was an old thing his mother bought for him when she found out about his new job as a host at the radio station; she was ecstatic, to say the least, handing him the antique with tears in her large, brown eyes as she wept with happiness at her son’s success.  

Suddenly, the sound of a door opening and closing and footsteps bounding down the stairs brought Alastor’s attention to the staircase that led into the foyer. 

“Good morning~!” Ah, that voice. That buttered, dulcet harmony he wished to soak in every second of the day, the one that made his heart pound uncontrollably and his mind race with hazy, sappy pictures of him and his little darling.  

He didn’t know what his life would’ve been like without you, and he honestly didn’t want to.  

You bounced into the kitchen with fervor, rocking on the heels of your feet as you scooted next to him and poured yourself a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, my dear! How was your night?” Alastor subconsciously leaned forward to get closer to you, memorizing every freckle and acne scar on your face and enjoying the soft pink that tinged your cheeks. 

“As good as eva’!” You blessed him with a delighted smile as you took a sip, before eyeing his strong cup of black coffee with a look of judgment.  

Your nose scrunched up in that cute little pout that entertained Alastor so, making him want to reach up and smooth out the small infliction on your face with his thumb.  

Alastor pushed that intrusive – but not unwanted – thought away as you side-eyed him carefully.  

“Hm, whatever wakes you up. Now, come on! You promised me an outing yesterday!” With a teasing elbow to his side and a beam that could rival the Sun’s glowing rays, you were already waiting for him by the front door, and he realized you had been wearing the ivory sundress he bought for you a few days ago when he took you out on the town to celebrate your first day living in his home.

With a soft tsk, Alastor took your woolen winter jacket off of the antlers of the stately coat rack beside the front door, sliding it over your arms while shaking his head.

"Wouldn't want you freezing out there, darling," you rolled your eyes and shifted the wooly jacket on your shoulders, marching towards the front door with your nose in the air.

"You worry too much! I'd have been fine without it. It'll be spring soon, anyway." Alastor raised an eyebrow.

He had to stifle the urge to point out that it'd be two months to March, and it rained incessantly during the months of spring, lest he want to miss the reservation and sit there all morning arguing over the temperature.

“Careful, now. Perhaps I should cut you off the caffeine,” Alastor chuckled and graciously opened the door for you like the gentleman he was.  

“Haha! Aw, you’re so funny! Cut me off and I’ll cut off your arm,” you replied sweetly without missing a beat.  

Alastor simply laughed, undeterred in the slightest by your unusual humor. He had grown quite fond of it in the past few months, though he was absolutely floored by it the first time you made a joke like that. 

At least, he thought it was a joke. You were quite irritable when sleep-deprived, to his amusement and your disdain.  

Besides, the thought of you? Cutting him up? Such an absurd, comical notion only served to make him laugh harder.  

With a giggle, you stepped over the threshold and nodded gratefully at Alastor, who smiled back and joined you on the rocky path through the marshy forest that grew around his home.  

Subconsciously, you reached for Alastor’s already offered arm without even looking, and he could’ve swooned at how you instinctively held him. Touched him.  

A comfortable silence settled between you two as you strolled through the dewy thicket, content to simply be in one another’s company while Alastor snuck subtle glances at his excitable little darling that strode next to him at a steady pace.  

Large, curious eyes gaped at everything around you as if you’d never seen a tree before. An adorable sight, he figured, one that convinced him that keeping you around for just a bit longer couldn’t hurt, and Alastor did not wish to hurt you.  

How silly, that a mere expression from his cute little doll could make him melt under its warmth akin to the sweltering summer Sun in the middle of July. He was practically a slave to it.  

Alastor realized he had been outright staring at you, and he silently cursed himself as he quickly turned his gaze away.  

The morning chorus composed of waking songbirds and rising cicadas filled the content quiet as you took a closer step out of the forest and towards the city. You resisted the temptation to relax your head against Alastor’s arm, to get just a little closer to him, though every glimpse of the young, chipper radio host weakened your resolve further.  

How could it not? He was the perfect gentleman in your eyes, polished and refined to the highest caliber. Sweet and charming, and he clearly detested laying a malicious or unwanted hand on any woman. And boy, could the man cook!  

It was clear to you which parent was more present in his life, but you made no comment on it in the months that you had known him. You didn’t wish to brush up upon such a sensitive subject, especially since you were quite similar to him in that aspect. If anyone brought up your loving mother, who tried to provide every advantage she could offer to her little girl, you would’ve broken down in tears, years of bottled-up emotions overflowing your tired, overworked heart.  

But then Alastor came along and helped you up, making your head spin and your world turn upside-down. He gave you stability, comfort, everything your mother hoped you would one day find in a husband. 

The cheeky, mischievous, dapper, handsome, goddamned bastard. 

You sighed with a smile, forlorn but hiding against a mask of demureness.  

“It’s beautiful here.”  

“It truly is.” Alastor observed the thick, swamp-like forest with a fond smile, before his eyes landed on you. His darling, his little blessing, his diamond in the rough. These feelings... perhaps they wouldn’t be so bad, after all. They could bring about something new, a slight change in routine that he had long since needed, but never discovered.  

Not until his doll stumbled into his life.  

Alastor’s carefree smile brought you a great giddiness that bubbled deep within your chest and rose to warm your cheeks. Here we go again.  

Nervously, you peeked up at your handsome, ever-smiling escort, trying not to completely fangirl like a child at how close you both were as the marshy path turned into a stark-black road covered in rubble and pebbles.  

“Al?”

“Hm?”

“Where are you taking me?”  

Alastor’s smile seemed to grow even wider at your confusion. “Oh, you’ll see, my dear~.”  

You huffed and pouted, turning your head away from him so he couldn’t spot your blush. God, why did he have to call you that, standing in the pure, radiant sunlight and looking so perfect and handsome and kissable-?  

“We’re here!” You hadn’t even realized how long you had been walking as you found yourself in front of a quaint little diner that you had been eyeing for quite some time.  

And, of course, Alastor noticed. He knew everything about you. What kind of gentleman would he be if he didn’t pay the utmost attention to his darling?  

As Alastor opened the door for you and stepped inside behind you, he reveled in the small gasp you let out, as well as your mouth falling slightly agape so that he had to close it with a single, slim finger.  

"You don't want to catch flies, my dear~.” You blushed and nodded as you continued to look around in awe.  

The diner was quite vintage by today’s standards, and as such, it held the intimate charm that no other restaurant could seem to replicate. There was even a little corner selling small bobs and trinkets, antique ornaments and a small, dusty wooden music box with faded paint engraved in the sides. 

Like a cozy, nostalgic retreat, the restaurant gave you the sense of a home. A home that your mother never built for you, as she preferred to teach you to survive in this cruel world. But she did her best, didn’t she? She tried, didn’t she? 

You oppressed those thoughts as you bounced on your heels in front of the desk, where Alastor was making his reservation.  

Of course, he planned this.  

You could probably shack up in that diner and it would feel like it was any other visit to your grandmother’s house, you figured as you subconsciously gripped Alastor’s arm even tighter with stars in your eyes.  

While you were bouncing on your heels like a child, smiling and gushing contently at everything you could possibly lay your eyes on in the small corner restaurant, Alastor was making sharp eye contact with the busboy who leaned attentively over the counter, trying to get a better look at the pretty young flower who wandered into his view like a naive doe.  

Alastor didn’t like that look, to say the least.  

He knew it all too well. The kind of darkened, sinister expression that only a predator could wear.  

He brought a slender hand carefully around your shoulder and pulled you close, making you squeak and look up at him with wide eyes.  

Alastor ignored your confusion in favor of pulling you tightly into him, and the young man scowled slightly before snatching two menus off the counter and leading you both towards a cozy little table tucked into the very back of the restaurant. 

Small string bulbs hung above you, basking the table in a warm halo of light as you sat down, and you began ordering your drinks. 

"A glass of water will do," Alastor didn't take his eyes off you since you sat down, enjoying how the flickering candle lit up your face and made your eyes seem illuminated in the dim light. 

"And you, Ma'am?" 

"Just some orange juice, please," you smiled politely as the busboy scribbled down your orders and left the both of you in silence. 

After a while of admiring the scenery of the restaurant for the hundredth time, you finally turned back to Alastor and folded your hands in your lap. "Thank you for taking me here, Al'. It’s really nice here!”  

"Anything for you, my dear!" Alastor rested his chin on intertwined hands, leaning forward until he was only a foot away from you. 

A sly Cheshire smile curled the slim tips of his lips upward. "How are you finding things here, darling? I do hope I have been of favorable company~..."

You waved him away with a roll of your eyes, "Oh, please, you know I love it here. I couldn't imagine leaving now..." you trailed off softly, thinking about how you up and dropped everything for some guy. 

Then again, he wasn't just some stupid fling that you wanted to leech off of. You genuinely enjoyed Alastor's energetic, yet suave nature, his spirited presence, his voice... 

God, you sounded like a lovesick teenager. 

"So, about your radio show..." 

Alastor immediately perked up, his eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. 

"Hm? What about it, my dear?" 

You clenched and unclenched your fists as you worked yourself up to ask. "C-Could I watch you?" You nearly slapped yourself for your wording, convinced that he could see the blush instantly spreading across your face, even in the dim lighting. 

Alastor raised his eyebrows as he blinked in surprise, his smile - just for a millisecond - faltering slightly in uncertainty as the gears turned in his head. 

Shaking off his surprise, Alastor grinned widely at your flustered expression as your fists bunched up your beautiful sundress in frustration, your eyes looking at everything but him as you all but twiddled your fingers as he asked for you to draw out the question. 

"I mean, could I uh... Listen to you? L-Like in person?" You looked about ready to hurl yourself out the window as Alastor tried to make himself look as if he was thinking about it, when in reality his mind was going ninety miles a minute. 

The sadistic, yet ever-adoring part of him thought that seeing your cute little face all flushed and abashed with embarrassment had to be the highlight of this day. Another part of him swelled with pride that you wanted to make a little visit to him in his recording booth.

Then again, you both had been working at the same studio for a while, and what's an hour off of work for his lovely little Doll? You deserved it for working so hard, after all!

Before Alastor could come up with a response, however, the waiter butted himself right into your very riveting conversation that he had absolutely no authority to interrupt. 

"Here you go, one water for you, and one orange juice for the stunning little lady," he flashed you a wide grin and took out his notepad and pen.  

You both hesitantly ordered, before Alastor answered your question with a strained smile.

"Why, of course you may, darling! I'd be honored to have my favorite listener see one of my broadcasts up close," Alastor leaned back with a carefree grin and a sip of water, enjoying how elated you seemed at the thought of spending a simple broadcast session with him. Then again, he supposed anyone would be falling to their knees at the opportunity, but the fact that it was you made the feeling all the more palpable. 

When the food arrived, you both ate and conversed, with you bursting at the seams with excitement at the possibility of visiting Alastor while he hosted his radio broadcast, and his mind conjuring very work-inappropriate outfits he could choose to make you wear, claiming you'd look stunning in all of them. 

"Oh, but I really couldn't wear this... I mean look at it!" 

"But you'd look just dazzling in this, my Doe, I just know it! You wouldn't want to disappoint me, would you~?"

"I suppose not, Sir..."

Alastor could imagine your timid, adorable little face tinged with pink as you handed him his morning coffee just how he liked it - dark as his soul - in a tight little pencil skirt and a form-fitting chiffon blouse. 

His eyes drifted elsewhere around your form as he envisioned your skirt riding up those supple hips of yours as you nervously rubbed up against him as he took his favorite knife, slicing off each one, his predatory smile growing with each pop. 

Soon, the sun had fully risen above the horizon, a luminous, pale light tinged with yellow basking the forest in captivating morning light. With a single glance down at his watch, Alastor’s brows rose when he realized you’d spent nearly an hour at the diner. 

“Oh, dear! It seems we’ve lost track of time,” he rose from his seat and offered you a hand to pull you along with him. 

“Let me pay this time,” but Alastor held out a hand before you could do the great disservice of paying for your food as he threw your waiter a fifty-dollar bill and headed for the exit, excitement lacing his every step as he pushed you out of the restaurant. The earlier for his radio show, the better! 

You tried to open the door for Alastor this time, but he smoothly slipped in behind you and twisted the knob, smiling even wider when you slapped him playfully on the shoulder. 

"After you, my dear~," he grinned with a mischievous glint dancing within his honey-brown eyes.

"Thanks, Al’." you grinned up at him before turning to wave at the man who served you at the counter. 

"Have a good one, beautiful," your waiter gave you a flirtatious wink, and you were too stunned at his forwardness to respond as Alastor practically forced you out of the diner with a peeved smile that dipped slightly into a scowl. 

"Well, he was quite friendly, wasn't he?" You nearly snorted at Alastor's obvious bad mood, having never seen him so irked before. 

"Oh, don't tell me you're jealous~?" It was your turn to tease the ever-grinning radio host as he spun towards you so fast your own head spun. 

"How dare you accuse me of such a thing!" He sounded almost offended as he huffed and crossed his arms with nose in the air. Drama queen... 

"Well, you were quite friendly with him," you muttered sarcastically, before squinting up at him in the sunlight with a furrowed brow. "And what was with grabbing me like that, right in front of the poor guy?"

"He was... ogling you, darling. I couldn't stand for such disrespect to my friend, especially on our lovely outing this morning!"

You gaped at him incredulously, "I remember no such thing! Perhaps you're seeing things, or you just wanted an excuse to hold me~," you were surprised to see a tinge of blush coat Alastor's cheeks, just a small spot of it before it quickly faded.

"This is why I don't like it when you drink coffee, my dear! You're too disagreeable," his lips jutted out in a soft pout, and his eyes remained solely on the road as his hand tightened on your shoulder, but he couldn't keep his frown for long as you started laughing at him.

Your chiming laughter ended abruptly with a gasp when a rough hand tugged on your wrist. Looking back, you saw your waiter with sweat sheening his face, his hair messy from clearly running the entire way outside to catch up to you and Alastor. 

"H-Hello...?" 

"Hey, there, *ahem*, I, uh, I was thinking about asking you if you wanted to go out with me, sometime?" 

You blinked several times, processing his question before straining a polite smile and pulling your wrist away, but the young man wasn't budging.

"No thank you, sir, I'd rather walk with my friend now, as we both have places to be." The waiter didn't let up, pure desperation reflected in his eyes as he leaned towards you, and you recoiled from the stink of sweat and the uncomfortable heat that radiated off of him.

"Aw, c'mon, I promise we won't be long!"

"Excuse you, but I-!"

"Thank you for the kind offer, but my darling and I are about to go on a little stroll, so if you could kindly take your hands off of her..." Alastor laid his near bone-crushing grip upon the busboy's arm, ready to pry his hand off of you if necessary.

Perhaps I'll pry an arm off while I'm at it... 

"I wasn't talkin' to you, Sticks."  

"Hands. Off." Alastor's voice cut through the air like a sharpened butcher knife. It was the first time that you had ever witnessed the radio host's everlasting simper curl into a sneer, as his lips rose just enough above his gums in clear displeasure. 

And could he be blamed for it? It was enough to make his temper froth and burst beneath the surface at seeing such rotten, unworthy vermin think to lay a single finger on you. He was doing the public a service, getting rid of it. 

"G-Get off me! Fuckin' freak-" 

"As soon as you let go of the lady and apologize." Alastor retorted calmy with the waiter's wrist trapped in his tightening vice grip.

"I-It's fine, Alastor. Let him go," nervously you tugged on his rolled-up shirtsleeve, but when that didn't work, you squeezed his shoulder, and he whipped his head around to you so fast you thought you were going to get whiplash. 

"Let's go home, Al... Please?" Once again, he fell completely under the mercy of your wide, worried eyes, of you touching him. And willingly, that was. Alastor didn't need to beg, nor force himself upon you for attention.

Such an obvious fact had him preening with pride, and obviously had the insignificant worm dripping with envy as Alastor smirked down at the busboy. 

"Alastor...?" 

Snapping out of his little bout of victory, Alastor didn't need any further persuasion as he ripped the poor man's hand off of yours with an uncharacteristically phony smile. You then noticed, with a slight shiver up your spine, how alarmingly sharp his teeth seemed when they were bared like that. 

"If you insist, my dear." 

Alastor wrapped a slender hand around your shoulder and pushed you around towards the path where preserved red brick melded into a rocky dirt road as you tried to ignore the pained groans of that pesky little street rat behind you. 

Your walk back was spent in complete silence yet again, but now rather than a comfortable, mutual quiet, a tense atmosphere filled the air. 

The pastels of imminent dawn had fully faded when you both arrived at the house, and, ever the gentleman, Alastor kindly opened the door for you with a polite simper, and you shyly nodded in return before stepping inside. 

"Alastor, I..." 

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that, my dear. Truly, I..." 

He sighed and clenched the gold-colored doorknob within his fist as he closed the front door behind him, "I hate seeing such disrespect to those of fairer means." 

You smiled softly. Oh, his mother raised him well, didn't she? "Well, thank you for protecting me. I just can't stand men like that, y'know? Nice to know we have a couple of good ones out there."

"I just don't want to think about what I would've done if I were alone," the radio host immediately sensed your unease as you rubbed your arms nervously.

"Don't worry, darling. I won't ever let anyone hurt you." Alastor murmured with a gentle hand on your cheek. He'd be sure to never allow you outside without his supervision, not with yahoos like that idiotic scumbag running about. 

Your nervous smile melted into a small, grateful simper as you nodded and let him tussle your hair softly before patting the small of your back and pushing you upstairs. 

"Now, we have a lovely day ahead of ourselves, so go and get ready, so we can get to the studio in time." Looking down at his watch again, Alastor noted that it was now 8:06 in the morning, and his radio show began at 9:00 A.M. on the weekdays.

Alastor simpered to himself as morning light streamed across his face, casting shadows over his eyes and lips while he could only imagine the awe, you'd watch him with. 

Alastor had an hour to truly captivate you, capture you with only your attention. 

And soon, even that wouldn't be enough. 

He'd need to bind you to him, tie you to him heart, body, and soul. 

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Wow, that was a long one. Don't worry, I'm working on making the next chapter a lot shorter, but I had a lot of ideas stewing and I needed to put them somewhere.

I might consider uploading this to A03, if I find a way to dispel the infamous A03 Writer's Curse, so let me know if ya'll would read it on that platform, since I haven't posted anything on that website for a while now.

Thank you for reading! ৻(≧ᗜ≦৻)

. . .

➺ 𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑩𝒚 @cafekitsune - 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫!

[nisuna]

Need more yuuji smut!!

So hear me out-

bestfriend!yuuji finding your depressed ass in the park while it's raining and you're soaked. So he takes you home and take care of you and puts you to sleep in jis clothes.

Then wakes you up by eating you out and then .. you know.. the rest of the stuff

Holy shit am I in my angst era? 😭 Yuji is 100% my comfort character, so this was very nice to write. He's so boyfriend oml I love him so much<3 I don't even care if this does well or not. I really needed this, tysm for the idea!!<3

⚠️ If you or anyone you know struggles with their mental health or has thoughts like these, please look up your local s*uic*de prevention hotlines. Everybody deserves to get help, and everyone deserves to live. It might not always be as easy as in my little story, but please look after yourselves, I love you all so much and thank you all for all of the love and support🫶🏻 As someone who's been struggling with their mental health ever since their early teens I can say that I definitely can't speak for everyone on this matter, but maybe some will find comfort and familiarity in this

TW: angst, s*icid*l ideation, mentions of declining mental health, hurt and comfort, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, body worship, nipple play, body appreciation, mating press, confession, a lot of crying, this is so dear to my heart, supportive!bff!yuji

~2,8k words~

<3masterlist<3

--------mature themes ;strictly 18+ MDNI-----------

Everything has been fucked lately. Your job sucks, school isn't going great, your social life is almost nonexistent, your family is a mess and you just want some peace and calm. You've been home constantly, but you just can't stand it anymore, which is exactly why you went outside for some fresh air. And as if the universe was giving you the middle finger as well, it started raining. But you just couldn't be bothered anymore. Life sucks and your mental health is declining. So you don't even flinch at the rain hitting your lowered head. You don't care that your clothes are soaked at this point. You just sit there and take it. You've been sitting here for what feels like hours. There has been multiple nosy on lookers that passed by mumbling. Some of them showed concern, but some of them were threw disgusted looks at you and assumed you're some kind of junkie that's loitering around in their peaceful park. You couldn't care less, nobody was actually brave enough to approach you anyway, so you let them talk.

It's getting cold, but you can't bring yourself to move. You're soaked and it's getting dark, but you feel like you have nowhere to go. You're starting to feel numb, your hands and feet are cold and you almost can't feel them anymore. This is actually quite nice, you're neither sad nor mad, you feel empty, but it's not uncomfortable like it usually is. You feel calm, you're not worried. You think that freezing to d*ath might actually be a good way to go. It would be like falling asleep without having to ever wake up again. For the first time in weeks you felt yourself smile. You've made up your mind, nobody will miss you anyway so why bother. But as you were about to lie down, you heard a familiar voice screaming your name.

"What the hell-", you thought to yourself as you sat back up and looked around. You didn't have to wait long before seeing a familiar figure run towards you.

"Y/N!!! Where are-? Oh my god there you are. I looked everywhere for you. What are you doing?", he reached out to grab your shoulders, only for you to flinch away.

"Yuji, what are you doing here?"

"Well, you weren't picking up my calls and I got worried." When you didn't give him an answer, he continued, "Are you alright? Whoa you're soaked and my god you're ice cold c'mon let's get you home. I don't want you to get sick.", he grabbed your hand, trying to get you off that bench. But you didn't budge.

"Y/N? What's wrong c'mon let's go-"

"No, I'm fine, really. Just leave me be."

"What are you even saying? How could I? You are in no condition to be left alone. It's freezing and you're soaked c'mon let's go home-"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE GODDAMN IT!", you screamed and felt tears leave your eyes. Shit. When you reached up to wipe away at your eyes, Yuji stopped you and wiped your tears with his sleeve instead.

"Y/N I don't know what's going on, but please let me help.", he knelt down, squeezing your trembling hands and giving you a warm smile.

"Why do you care so much?", that came out way too wobbly for your liking.

"Why do I care? Y/N, you're my best friend of course I care. How could I not? Look at you."

You were at a loss of words, so he continued. "Is it okay if I touch you more?" Nod. As soon as you gave him the okay he pulled you into a tight hug. It took you a bit to relax, but you eventually gave in and let your emotions run wild. You were shaking, crying loudly in his embrace. All the built-up tension of the past weeks came flooding out, but he was there to catch you. He held you close as you let go. He didn't say a word until you calmed down a bit.

He pulled away to take a look at your puffy face. "Let's go over to mine, hm? What do you say?"

"Fuck it.", you thought as you nodded and got up.

"Want me to carry you?"

"No, that's embarassing. I can walk alright.", you huffed.

"Don't worry, it's late. Nobody will see."

"Okay."

After he wrapped you up in his jacket, you got on his back and let him carry you to his apartment. He's so warm and smells really good. You subconsciously nuzzled your face closer to him. Falling asleep like this would be way nicer than alone. You thought of that as you closed your eyes and hugged him tighter.

Luckily, he only lived a couple blocks away from the park. He was gentle when he set you down as soon as you arrived.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it.", there it was again, his sweet smile. "You should go take a bath before you get sick. I'll lend you some of my clothes." Nod.

------

You felt like a new human being after the warm bath. His clothes were also warm and smelled like him. It was oddly comforting. Has he always smelled this good? Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.

"Oh wow, you look better already.", he grinned.

"Yeah", you cracked a smile back at him, "I do feel a lot better. Thanks a lot."

"Of course! Now, what do you want to eat, you must be starving? How long were you out there anyway?"

"All day actually...", you confessed.

His shocked expression made you giggle as he pushed you into his kitchen.

After a good meal he said you could go sleep in his bed. He'd sleep on the couch tonight. But you stopped him. "I don't want to be alone. Can you sleep with me tonight."

"Sure, I thought you needed some space and didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Can we cuddle too?"

"We can do whatever you need."

That's how you found yourself back in his arms for the nth time today. The atmosphere was calm, as you were exchanging occasional remarks while watching something. You don't know what overcame you, but you just felt so safe and taken care of that you leaned in for a kiss. However, you quickly pulled away when you felt him stiffen up and not kiss you back.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. God, I'm so stupid. You probably hated that. Shit, please don't hate me-"

"No, please calm down, it's alright. It's not that I don't like this. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"You're in a very fragile state right now. I don't want you to do something you might regret."

"But I'm sure, I really want this-"

"Sleep it over. Just one night and if you still feel like it tomorrow I'm down. I'm here for you. We can cuddle all you want, though. I just don't want to take advantage of you."

You shot him your biggest pity pout and when that didn't work you gave in. "Alright, alright, I guessss.", you huffed and fell into his embrace. Both of you didn't talk much after that, there was a bit of tension, but you didn't act on it. When you finally drifted off to sleep it was enveloped in his warmth and smell.

You haven't slept this well in a long time. And you definitely haven't been woken up this nicely in a long time, either.

After such a good night's sleep you didn't expect to wake up to your best friend between your thighs, lapping away at your pussy.

"Hi, good morning", he rasped, morning voice heavy. "You just looked so cute wiggling around in my arms and when I checked you were already so wet down there. Sorry, I couldn't resist.", he said while softly kissing up your thigh.

"It's alright, let me wake up first, though ah-", you couldn't finish your sentence, because your head snapped back with a moan, as he dove back between your legs.

"Sorry, but I need this just as bad as you do. You taste so good. God, I've been missing out on this this whole time? Just lay back and let me take care of you."

You couldn't say no. Not that you were able to say anything at all with his skillful tongue and fingers working your cunt open. He made you a whimpering and sensitive mess in a matter of a few seconds.

"Shit, how are you so good?", you let out a drawn-out moan, but didn't get an answer from him. His actions spoke instead of him, as he had you cumming on his tongue soon after. Once he licked you clean he slotted his body between your legs and kissed you nice and deep.

"Mmh", you moaned against his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Tastes good, right?", he grinned.

"Shut up", you playfully hit his chest, grinnig right back at him.

"Alright, my turn.", you smiled, trying to get him to lie down only to be pushed back, as he got on top of you again.

"Nope."

"Hey! Not fair, I wanna taste you, too.", you pouted at him.

"Maybe next time. Today's all about you, I don't want you to lift a single finger. As I said, lay back and let me take care of you."

That was an offer you definitely couldn't refuse. So you gave him a nod and waited for his next move. His next move was a very welcome one, as he finally rid him himself of his shirt. You always knew he was well built from years in the gym and other sports. But seeing him like that up close made you gush. His front was mouth watering, and his arms were to die for. He was huge. You would've rubbed your legs together to ease your pain if he wasn't keeping your legs open with his body between them. You didn't even notice you were staring until he spoke up.

"You're practically drooling."

"Fuck, sorry.", you shrieked looking away.

"Don't sweat it. Oogle me all you want, I dig it.", he smiled, pulling your face back in his direction.

"Can I touch you?"

"What kind of question is that? Go for it!"

His skin's so soft, but the ripples of his abs and chest are brick hard. He let you explore his body before grabbing your hand and giving it a gentle kiss.

"My turn.", he whispered against your fingers before pulling your shirt up and exposing your tits. Your nipples were already hard from all of the stimulation earlier.

"Fuck, they're so pretty.", he whispered, grabbing one in each hand and giving them a hard squeeze.

"Shit.", you moaned, back arching off the bed and pussy rubbing against his hard cock. To make matters worse, he leaned down, licking a thick stripe up your neck and pinching your aching nipples between his fingers.

"Off. Now.", he demanded, already helping you pull the shirt over your head. You were finally fully exposed and he ate it right up. He leaned back down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and massaging your other breast. He made sure to pay equal attention to both. It felt really good, but you were getting impatient, already grinding against his hard crotch.

"Yuuji~~", you moaned at a particularly hard suck. "Don't tease. Pleasee, I need you.", you whined.

"Shit, sorry I got distracted. Wait here, I'm gonna go get the condoms."

Before he could leave you, you stopped him.

"No, wait, please don't. I want to feel you.", you said, already digging your nails in his arms at the mere thought of doing it raw.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive.", you smiled reassuringly.

"Fuck, alright. Got it.", he swore and rid himself of his boxers.

Once again you were staring. He was bigger than you thought. You definitely couldn't wait any longer. You needed him inside of you immediately.

He didn't make you wait long before he started to slowly bottom out. Your moans grew embarassingly louder with each inch that filled you up.

"Shit, you're so tight. Please loosen up, you're gonna kill me."

"Sorry, it just feels so good.", you mewled back arching and pressing your soft tits against his hard chest. "Kiss me, please~~" He immediately obliged, crashing his mouth against yours. It was so raw and messy when your tongues kept mashing together, but it just felt so right.

"I'm gonna start moving now. I'm gonna fuck you so good."

You nodded and pleaded. Your wish was his command, so he finally picked up his pace. And god, was he good with his hips. With each thrust and shift of your legs, he kept hitting you deeper and deeper until you practically saw stars. It's so cliché, but you felt like you were in heaven.

Your nails kept grazing his broad back and shoulders, but you didn't want to hurt him, so you held back. As if he had read your mind, he leaned down and whispered against your ear.

"Do it. Mark me up, it doesn't hurt. Please don't hold back."

So you didn't hold back anymore. You let your emotions run wild, exploring his body with your hands. Shyness long forgotten, as you left long red streaks all over his back, occasionally pulling him down for a kiss.

The world stood still. You never noticed before, but he has always been there for you. He was the only person that you ever felt loved by. How had you never noticed. Even if you two never said it out loud before, you loved each other. It had to be love. You felt overwhealmed as his fingers slipped between your bodies and started rubbing thick circles in your sensitive clit. Your breath hitched as the words you kept secret for far too long came tumbling out.

"I love you, Yuji. I love you so much, thank you for always taking care of me. I only have you in my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. Please never leave me, I need you."

If he was taken aback by your words, he didn't show it. He just pressed his lips against yours and kept rubbing and moving his hips until you came undone. And as you were moaning and arching your back, he finally answered.

"I love you, too. So, so much. I always have. I promise I will never leave. No matter what happens, I got you. Forever.", that's when the dams broke down and tears were spilling from your eyes. You just hugged him close and thanked him.

Not long after, he was reaching his limit as well. So he hoisted your legs over his shoulders and pounded away until he filled you up to the brim. All the while he was kissing your tears away and saying how good you were for him and how well you did.

When his hips finally came to a halt, he gently put your legs down and kissed you again. He was gentle when he pulled out and you winced as you felt his cum drip out of you and onto his sheets.

Immediately after, he pulled you close, hugging you like he was about to lose you and you were able to calm down a bit. But the bad thoughts came back as you whispered against his skin.

"Today was so stressful and you must've been worried sick. What if I have another breakdown. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to stress you out. I don't want to break your heart if anything happens to me."

"Y/N, look at me.", he begged, hands on your cheeks.

You finally looked back up at him, tears stinging your eyes.

"You're not a burden.", he whispered, giving your forehead a gentle kiss. "I will protect you forever. For as long as I live, I will always be here to catch you. No matter what happens. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to endure everything silently and on your own. I promise, things will get better. I will be here each step of the way. I love you so much, so please don't leave me."

You wanted to believe him, you wanted to get better. Maybe you finally could with his help. It's a big gamble, but you're gonna bet all of your cards on this relationship. After a long pause, you gave him a silent nod and burried your face in his chest, all while he was gently patting and kissing your head.

Life and everyone else might be shit, but at least you got him now. He was worth living for.

--------

If you read this far, thank you so much<3 I hope I can make some lighter and happier content soon, but I'm on a roll right now *sigh* Please stay healthy and look after yourselves, mwah

Hope to see you all very soon<3