#Wait a second‚ you could've done this the whole time?

[youve-been-portal-chopped2]

"2012 Splinter gives deep wisdom advice in vague, confusing metaphors while he could just say it as it is."

Yes, true, but he mostly does it on purpose and to confuse his boys. It's actually a crack to him, notice that every single time, he looks super amused while doing it. Also hilarious because he only does this with the boys, never with April or Casey or Karai or any other friend or mutant, only with the boys. He is trolling them! XD

As for whether Rise Splinter gives his sons wise ninja advice the same way or not, let's just rewatch the End Game episode, yeah?

Raph's imaginary astral plane Splinter only has to say, "You already know how to smash out of that cage, just smash out of that cage," but instead of doing so, there's a whole long journey through harsh landscapes and he keeps talking in riddles and confusing metaphors reminiscent of his 2012 counterpart and I find that just lovely.

[lynnielovestlou]

bodyguard! abby anderson x princess! reader (500 followers special)

꩜ synopsis: based on the book "twisted games" by ana huang. you are next in line for the throne, and abby is your bodyguard. only one problem: you can't be with her. you have to marry someone of royal blood, and abby is not. but that won't stop you from being with her. she knows she can't have you, but she's taking you anyways.

꩜ cw: forbidden love trope , reader and abby sneak around , eventual smut (fingering, strap use, multiple orgasms, pet names, spanking, dirty talk, etc) , reader has a brother , afab! reader , fem! reader , bodyguard! abby , semi-public ,

masterlist

.. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ ..

it all started when your brother abdicated. he quite possibly ruined your life the day he fell in love with a flight attendant and decided he didn't want to be king anymore. but you couldn't blame him. he chose love over the throne.

in reality, you could've done the same. not a single part of your body wanted to be queen. too much responsibility and stress, and not enough time to prepare. but everything you do reflects your country, and it would look bad to back out when your brother had done the same.

your grandfather was king, but as he grew older he had to teach your brother, next in line for the throne, how to rule an entire country. he had been preparing to do so for years, but when he met mckenna, he decided he didn't want to. so now, you were next to be queen. and you only had four months to prepare.

you had a dance to attend tonight, because the board decide it would be best for you to marry before coronation. so there you were, sitting on an uncomfortable throne in a room full of men that wish to be your suitor.

"are you paying attention?" a voice to your right says.

another thing. abby fucking anderson. your buff, exponentially attractive bodyguard. you two had a fling before there was this whole drama with your brother, but it soon fizzled out at the reality of the situation. you wanted her, and she wanted you. but the only problem: you can't be with her. she's not of noble blood, so by law, you can't be together.

"i dont need to be. i don't want to marry anyone here." which is almost a lie. you don't want to marry any man here.

abby sighs through her nostrils, her broad shoulders twitching, "c'mon, princess. there's got to be at least one person here that you think is good enough to be your husband."

there wasn't. even abby knew that.

"no thank you." you say with a huff, standing up and straightening out your dress just as another suitor had approached you.

you walk away without another word, abby short on your tail, "where are you going?"

"bathroom." you answer shortly, "i'm fed up with everything and this dress is making it extremely hard not to pee myself."

you excuse yourself for the second time, walking through the marble corridors of the castle while the faint sound of chatter is left in the ballroom. the only sound heard now is the clacking of your heels on the slick floors, the shoes rubbing your feet in the most uncomfortable places.

once in the bathroom you reach behind your back, fumbling with the strings of your corset.

"need some help?" abby questions. you hadn't realized that she followed you.

"i know you're my bodyguard, ms. anderson, but you don't need to follow me in the bathroom."

she chuckles lowly, "we've fucked three times and you still refuse to call me abby, huh?"

a familiar heat rushes to your cheeks.

and somewhere else.

she doesn't wait for an answer before positioning herself behind you, untying the strings for you and giving you immediate relief on your ribs.

"you know how much i hate that i have to watch you dance with other men? how much i hate that their hands are all over you...?"

you swallow, hard, "how much?"

"so much," she begins, "that i want to bend you over that sink and spank your ass raw."

your breath catches in your throat, and you stare at her in the mirror, mouth agape. your heart is hammering against your chest, like it's trying to head-butt itself out.

"take off your dress and spread your legs." she whispers in your ear, to which you comply. you'd be an idiot not to.

once you were stripped of your clothing, the cold air hits your skin and makes you shiver. but the cold doesn't last long before abby is taking you into a sloppy kiss.

"here's what's gonna happen." she says, hands snaking around your body and settling on the plush of your ass, "i don't like seeing you dance with men. so you're going to sit here and let me fuck you like a good girl, alright?"

her fingers slide through your slit. your breath catches for a second time and your body arches towards hers.

you shudder at every word, rutting yourself against her in an attempt to feel friction. she's quick to grab your hips and stop them, pulling a whine from deep within your chest.

"how many men did you dance with?" she demands, her hot breathe hovering on your lips.

"o-only six."

"seven." she corrects you, pinching and pulling on your clit, making you squirm.

"p-please, abby..."

"please what? use your words, princess." she says softly, contradicting her harsh actions.

"please... fuck me already." you plead, bottom lip quivering. your thigh muscles are shaking, and you glance at the pile of discarded clothes on the floor opposite of the counter you're pressed against. your clothes, to be exact. abby is still dressed, but you can see her bulge through her pants. the pants that squeeze her thighs and highlight every muscle. she truly is glorious.

"you wore your strap to the ball?"

she nods her head, taking her hand off your mound and using it to unzip her trousers. you whine at the lack of warmth, the cold air of the bathroom returning to your skin and giving you goosebumps.

"dont worry, sweet girl. once i'm done with you, you'll be sweating." you smirk at this, lifting yourself onto the cold tile counter. you hiss as the temperature hits your bare ass, but abby shuts you up with another kiss, "now stay still. i need to stretch you out before giving you what you really need." she says.

"but i've taken your strap before. it's not that hard."

she laughs at this, "i know you have. but this one's not the same."

your eyebrows raise, but before you can ask what she means her pants and boxers pool around her ankles. this certainly wasn't what you were expecting.

it's much longer and much girthier than than the one she's used on you before. it's even a different color. this one a hot pink, sparkly shade that's enough to force a laugh out of you.

abby giggles in unison, "you like it?" you nod, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her towards you. she's quick to shut that down, "nuh-uh. i told you i've gotta stretch you out first. spread those pretty legs f'me."

you comply easily, spreading them further. she whistles when she sees your twitching, glistening cunt, just weeping and begging for abby to take care of it.

"shit, honey... you think this country knows how wet their queen is right now?"

"but, im not the queen yet— oh!" youre interrupted when abby's middle and ring fingers slide easily into your cunt, your warm walls welcoming her familiar skin. you look down and watch your pussy swallow her up greedily, clenching around her like you're scared she's going to pull away.

"there she is. there's my girl." abby coos, kissing your knee before increasing the speed in which her fingers pump in and out of you.

all that's heard is the sloshing of her fingers in your pussy. the heel of her palm slams against your clit, deliciously stimulating it as your legs begin to shake. abby knows what she's doing, and she loves it.

"gonna look so damn pretty with a crown on your head." she huffs as that familiar coil bubbles up in the depths of your stomach, "s' pretty baby."

a string of moans cascade from your mouth as she pulls her fingers out, letting you have your orgasm on your own. usually she's fuck you through it, but she's not done with you yet.

she grabs the base of the strap, teasing your puffy and swollen folds with it but not putting it in. you whine in protest, but she tuts you in response.

when she finally does push in, however, a strained gasp falls out of your mouth from the stretch of the strap, your hands finding abby's shoulders and squeezing them, "abby— abs— i can't-"

"shh... yes you can. you can take it." she says, letting you adjust before slowly pumping in and out of you, "you can handle being queen but you can't handle this cock?"

"not-" grunt, "queen," grunt, "yet."

she pounds harder and harder, hips slamming against you. your legs are already weak, and you can tell you're going to be bruised tomorrow.

"abby," you say in between breaths, attempting to maintain your composure, "they're going to be wondering where i am."

her hips stutter, but they don't stop. the base of the strap was hitting her clit just right. she was just as close as you are, "shh... almost done. cum with me, baby. c'mon, you can do it."

with only a few more pounds you're both spiraling. you both hope to god nobody is outside the bathroom door, otherwise they would be sure to hear your heavy breathing and tight moans.

once you come down from your high, abby is already tucking her strap back into her tight slacks, the material hugging her thighs beautifully. she helps you dress yourself again in your pretty gown (after she had cleaned you up, of course).

"sorry we have to sneak around, princess. i promise one day we won't have to." she says, pecking a sweet kiss to your temple. without another word, she walks out before you, making sure it doesn't look too suspicious that you were in there together.

you're left with your reality again. you have to go back out there and dance with men that you don't love. a so simple, yet so not, marriage of convenience, when the person that your heart really belongs too has to watch from the sidelines.

but abby was right.

she couldn't have you, but she was taking you anyways.

[rogueddie]

Eddie slams his pile of books down on the counter, grinning at how hard Steve startles.

"Jesus, fuck," Steve holds a hand to his chest, glaring. "Man, come on, I'm too young to die of a heart attack."

"Are you sure about that?" Eddie reaches over, to tug at his hair- Steve bats his hand away before he can get near. "What are you now, seventy?"

"I'll have you know that the silver only adds to my charm."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that." He pats the pile of books. "I need to check all of these out."

"You know the limit."

"Please? Pretty please? I'll never insult you for going grey early ever again! Promise!"

"You've made that promise before," Steve grumbles, but starts to check the books out anyway. "What's all of this for anyway? New campaign or something?"

"Nah. Robin mentioned something about the cold war and nuclear shit. Got me curious."

Steve pointedly looks at the books, snorting. "Curious."

"What, you've never wanted to learn some new thing or something?"

"Not this much."

"What about all those sports you played?"

"That was more to do with my parents than me actually wanting to do it."

Eddies eyes narrow because... yeah. Outside of his old King Steve days, Eddie doesn't think Steve has ever wanted something. Not even for his birthday, or Christmas.

All he asks is for them to come to his and Robins flat. All he seems to want is confirmation that they're ok and alive.

"You always say you want kids though, right?"

"I mean, kind of. Though, I'm starting to think the brats we babysat might be more than enough for me."

"Chocolate?"

"Oh no..."

"What?"

"You're planning something, aren't you?"

"No! No, no, no... but there has to be something, right?"

"Something?"

"That you really want."

"There's nothing I need."

"That's not what I'm asking."

"That's all the answer you're getting." Steve shoves the pile of books towards him. "Get lost, I'm supposed to be working."

"Ugh, fine, you're no fun."

But he can't stop thinking about it. He ends up returning the pile of books, despite the fact that he barely read one page. When he tries to use it to question Steve, he dodges the question again.

He very quickly gives up, deciding to pester Robin until she tells him. That takes three weeks of constant, daily efforts. And, in the end, the answer is obvious.

Steve just wants to spend more time with people he cares about.

It's not easy to gather anyone in the party, given that there's no holiday or significant occasion- he manages it, though. All the kids, now young adults, organize transportation. Nancy and Jonathan, over the phone, help Eddie and Robin plan out where everyone will sleep with their small apartments.

The effort, and pain of organizing it all, is worth it for the look on Steves face when he comes home to find them all waiting for him.

When Dustin almost knocks him over with how harm he hugs him, for a second, Eddie is worried that he's going to start crying. But he holds it together, greets them all with so much enthusiasm...

"I forgot that he used to be like this," Robin comments, late into the night. They're sat a little away from the group, watching them argue over their games. "The kids mean a lot to him."

"He means a lot to them."

"I know. I think he forgets though, so... thank you."

Steve doesn't corner him until they've got the kids asleep- half of them going with Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle to Eddies appartment, the rest of them fighting over the little space in Steve and Robins.

"You could've got me chocolate," Steve says, nudging him.

"This is what you really wanted though, isn't it? That was the whole point, big boy."

"Right. Sorry, it... I wanted to say thank you. I know this must have taken a lot to organize and-"

"Steve. You don't need to thank me. Besides, I could never have done this on my own."

"Still... thank you." Steve is quiet for a moment, looking out to the busy city street. "What do you want?"

"This."

"No, what do you really want?"

"Yeah, this. Everyones together, having so much fun. We're gonna do a one-shot when you go to work tomorrow. And, uh... you're happy. I don't need anything more than that."

"Right," Steve clears his throat. He shuffles a little closer, so their sides are almost flush together, tentatively reaching out to hold Eddies hand. "You don't need anything else. What about what you want?"

"You know what I want."

"I want you to say it."

Steve leans over, bumping their shoulders together when he hesitates. He smiles, reassuring, and gives Eddies hand a squeeze.

"What do you want, Eddie?"

"You. I- I want you."

It's terrifying to admit, a horrifying leap... but the smile Steve gives him, so soft and happy, is more than worth it.

"As you wish."

[h0ck3yl0v3r]

foolish one

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

lh43 x childhood bestfriend!reader

warnings: angst, semi-swearing

you and luke were inseparable. always attached to each other, whether it was you attending his hockey games or him attending your events. everyone around you guys always thought you were both dating, although you wish you were, there was never any romantic relationships.

highschool graduation happened, and you and luke both had committed to the university of michigan. as time went on through senior year, yours and lukes relationship was rocky, luke being too busy with hockey and girls to always be there for you. as for you, you were still one of his biggest supporters. it was in that long list of promises you guys made when you were seven. 'we promise to always be there for each other no matter what.'

college was rocky, you barely saw luke, heard from him, it was hard on you.

chances are, tonight, you've already got plans and chances are i will talk myself to sleep again

you cried every night, seeing pictures of luke at parties with girls while you were never invited. you felt invisible to him now, your mom and ellen called every day, they knew how much love you have for luke, they knew it from the moment you slipped and fell on the ice and luke helped you up, the moment your spark in your eyes grew.

and the voices say, "you are not the exception you will never learn your lesson"

that spark was now slowly fading away. you really thought you had a chance being his best friend that maybe, just maybe he'd be in love with you too.

don't know what to call this situation but i know i can't call you mine

the whole first semester of freshman year went by really fast, meaning it was now time for winter break, one of your favorite seasons. luke was still radio silence, you both always spent winter together, guess he's too famous for you now, another promise broken, 'we promise to never forget each other, no matter how famous we get.'

but goodbye screamin' in the silence and the voices in my head are tellin' me why

when ellen and your mother came down to visit they held a little gathering with jack, quinn, luke and his friends.

the gathering was a mess.

"yo moose who's this girl in your baby pictures." one of his teammates had brought up.

"oh her, she's just an old friend." he had replied, 'old friend.' that hurt to hear, you were no longer apart of his life.

cause you got her on your arm and me in the wings i'll get your longing glances, but she'll get your ring

luke didn't know you were there, too busy with his new girlfriend and teammates. but you heard it all, you see it all, it was heartbreaking, quinn saw it all though. quinn was always second closest to you, being that person you looked up to, he was the first person you ever confessed you had a crush to luke on.

"it hurts quinny, it hurts so much, i feel like a ghost to him. i thought we would've happened i thought all the signs i gave him would've been enough for him to catch on. i feel so stupid" you sobbed into quinns chest, hos heart breaking for you.

"shh its okay, my brothers an idiot, please don't feel like stupid, it's not your fault angel" quinn rubbed your back softly as you sat there and cried yourself to sleep.

foolish one sittin' 'round waiting for confessions of love they ain't never gonna come and thinkin' he's the one, you should've been walkin' out foolish one

you woke up the next morning devastated. maybe in another universe it could've happened, but right now its time to piece yourself back together. you couldn't face watching your spark keep fading over someone who no longer is present in your life.

when all is said and done, he just wasn't the one no, he just wasn't the one

for you, luke will always be your past present and future, but right now he is not what is needed in your life, mayne one day he'll come back to his senses but for the time being self-love is the best healing.

tags: @drysdalesv @ghostfacd @shy4turcs

pt 2??

[appleblueberry-pie]

Please 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 do a yandere miles morales scenario if reader runs away from him

Pain Isn't Strong Enough

A/n: I'll get as close as I possibly can to "running" away as I can. If nearly spinting almost counts, then absolutely.

Miles didn't know what went wrong. You two were fine with each other the entire time. You often came over to eat dinner. Paid attention to his jokes. You made jokes back. You seemed comfortable when you came over to his place, and vice-versa seemed comfortable when he pulled up at yours. You stole hoodies from him like he wished for you to do. You often texted and called, and everything. You two had great communication skills, the whole fucking nine. So why....? Why are you not...being you??

He knew something was up when you gave him weird strained smiles all throughout the school day. Only would greet back when you two ran into each other again during passing period, and never said anything past that, especially when you two had physics together. He spoke the whole time. You best understand that he definitely checked up on you. Multiple times.

"...baby, are you okay? You've been kind of....kind of quiet lately. Did you eat? How'd you sleep last night?" "I'm fine. Nothing's wrong. I'm good." You'd say, nodding at him. He'd stare at you for a few seconds. Waiting for your face to crack or anything. But nothing. So he let it go for now.

At the end of the day, he offered to walk you home. He asked every single time you two walked back to your place, and you always told him to stop asking since you both always would go, no matter what happened. "Lemme you home, ma." He mutters it softly like every other time. "No." Miles stopped in his tracks and snapped his head toward you. "No?" He nearly shouts it. The confusion he felt was embedded deep into his voice when he repeated that word. The fact that you felt, he assumed, uncomfortable enough to openly decline him walking you home just rubbed him the wrong way entirely.

But he didn't mean to respond so abruptly. He collected himself as soon as he said it to not alarm you. He gives you a concerned stare, making sure to watch your eyes. "You sure?" He steps closer to you, getting rid of the space that he felt like was separating the two of you. "Yeah. I just want to go home." You made up some phony excuse to get him off of your back, but of course, it didn't work. "Then let me take you." "I just said no. Is it wrong that I don't want you to come with me this time?" You slip on your wording, wanting it to sound nicer to not be suspicious. And it just left Miles with more questions.

The undertones on your phrasing made him frown. He stays silent and you regret opening your mouth for every second he doesn't respond. You avoid his gaze, staring down your designated block. "No. Go 'head. My mom prolly need help with the chores anyway. I'll see you later, Mi Corazon." He softly whispers the nickname to you, pecking your cheek. You cheese every time he does it. Giving that laugh he loves and saying that you love him back. Now, you don't even flinch, not meeting his gaze once. "Hm." And you walk off.

His initial thought was that you're cheating. But he would know. So, he lets his heart and bones ache for the rest of the day as he waits for you to talk to him. He lets his mom bother him about where her "step-daughter" is and tries to stay chill the entire time he does his homework. His mind was loud and quiet at the same time. He couldn't seem to focus on one thing at a time until he knew the two of you were good. But he didn't want to press you, he didn't want to stress you out. He wanted you to take your time in reaching out to him. So, he stays patient.

By 9 o'clock, he was done with all possible things he could've done to pass the time. Did the laundry, made dinner, cleaned his mom's car, spoke with a neighbor, he even fixed the fucked up cable wires that had been preventing everyone from watching TV this past week. And it was until then, that Miles finally gets a text message from you. He was practically staring at his phone as if he knew you would answer and immediately swiped it off of his desk to see what you finally said. But nothing in the world could've prepared him for what he saw on his screen and he felt his heart drop as he read the message.

Baby - [Are you the prowler?]

He was ready. He was ready for any response you could've given him. I need space, I'm sorry, how are you, what are you doing, can you come over, hey, i miss you, i love you, fuck you, don't talk to me ever again, lose my number. "Is he the prowler"?? Is that what he's seeing on his screen right now?? Miles firmly believes he's hallucinating that message you sent, but the other ones above it that he had read a million times over are still the same, so it has to be real. Miles thinks of all of the hiding places for his gear, his other computer, his hidden weapons, his other bunch of keys, the paperwork for the deals he made, fuck, he couldn't think of what you possibly could've found that made you draw that conclusion. He cursed aloud and watched his hands begin to shake.

It wasn't the end. You wouldn't end the relationship over something as small as this, right? I mean, he would never hurt you, he knew that you knew this. But on the inside, he knew that this was the end of something. And he didn't know if he wanted to know what. Another message came up. You knew he saw it.

Baby - [Answer me.]

Miles - [I'm coming over.]

Baby - [No, don't.]

He shoved his phone into his pocket and rushed to put on a jacket and some shoes. Sneaking out to the fire escape, he rushed down to the street to speed walk over to your place.

You were scared. You didn't want to admit it to yourself, but in the back of your mind, you knew the truth and just couldn't help but feel real fear in your heart. He really was the prowler. You saw everything. That hyper-realistic metal mask you found under his pillow, it couldn't be for just nothing. For fucks sake, it even had the same holographic colors and shape. You found the claws and couldn't bring yourself to see anymore than you already did. And what made it worse is that when you spent the night the same time that you found his gear, he snuck out of the bed....not returning until the early hours of the morning. It made you sick to your stomach.

He was supposed to just be your boyfriend. Not a killer and a fucking robber and whatever else he was. Secrets as big as these just made you question everything else about the relationship you two had. What if he also had bitches on the side? What if you weren't the only one? What if he was using you? Would he......would he kill you...? You were gonna vomit.

Your body felt numb as you put on his hoodie and a pair of shoes he had gifted you. Everything that reminded you of him, you couldn't get rid of. You love him too much. The more you try to shove him away, the more he surrounds your everyday life and mind. And now he was going to find you. You weren't ready to talk at all.

You turned off your location on your phone and left. Maybe you can stay at one of your girl's houses tonight. But she lives in the direction of Miles's place, and you'd probably run into him on the way there. Maybe your cousin that lives like 30 minutes away? It's dark and....the walk would be so fucking dangerous, but it's safer than literally talking with a killer who you slept in the same bed with who-knows-how-many times. What were you going to tell your mom? Your family? His family?? Did his family know? How can you break up with him without causing an uprise? It almost seemed impossible because everyone loved you two being together. And the ones that hated it wanted it more than the two of you did. Too many people had hope in your relationship, it was horrible. It shouldn't have come to this. Maybe you should've just minded your own business.

You round one, two corners. It's dead silent and there's no one on the streets, which somehow feels worse than actual people being there stalking the streets. You hate that you can hear your own heartbeat and breath. On your third corner, you crash into a chest and rough hands grab you before you can fall. "No! No, get off of me!" You thrash in his arms and he seems to almost yell in your face. "Y/n, can you calm down? What the hell is you screaming for??"

"You know why I'm screaming at you, nigga!" "No, I don't I actually don't. So instead of running from me, can you talk to me?" You huff and go silent, pulling yourself out of his grasp to try and breathe. Miles's face falls when he sees how stressed you look. Your veins almost seemed to pop out of your neck. Did you really not want him there? He didn't know what to do. "Please, cariño, I just want to understand..."

You didn't want to start the waterworks and looked up to keep tears from falling down your face. You struggle to croak out the words, gesturing to help yourself cope. "The stuff...t-the stuff under your pillows and bed." Miles looks off to the side. "What is that stuff you got, Miles?" Suddenly it was quiet again. He didn't want to tell you. You didn't want it to be true. Why wasn't he denying it? Why wasn't he hugging you and telling you it was all fake? A science class experiment? Something? Anything but this?? He looks back at you and gains the courage to step closer, bringing a hand up to wipe away your hot tears on your face, like he promised he'd always do for you. He shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about, baby."

You just seemed to cry harder at his words and pulled his hand from your face. Your throat was beginning to close up, the truth showing in what wasn't said. "I hate when you lie to me. I know you know that I hate when you lie to me. Don't lie....don't lie.." Miles wanted you in his arms again, not far away, distancing the two of you in your mind like he knows you're doing. You're great at disappearing when feeling stressed, but to leave him alone? He doesn't think he can take that. He gave his heart to very few people in his life, and somehow it can never fix his problems. His mom's stressed, Aaron wants more from him, and his Dad.... You're the only one that's given him what he didn't know he needed. You're his salvation. And for you to slip out of his fingers is something he can't allow. His only option left is to tell the truth that he has been hiding for so long.

"I am." You sniffle and wipe your eyes. He can't seem to look at them, instead he stares at the necklace he gifted you when you first got together. Knowing that you kept it on was all he needed to keep speaking. "I am the Prowler."

Your face shifts from sadness into one of frustration as he explains. "I've been the Prowler for 2 years now. I go out almost every night. It helps my mama pay the bills, it keeps Brooklyn safe, and it keeps my close family safe as well. I don't do this for nothing." He whispers the words so quietly, as if he was whispering a taboo to you. Never slipped out of his lips before until this one moment with you. You turn your face the other direction. Miles watches you clench your jaw and rushes to take your hands into his, kissing them lightly.

"And I know that's a long time. And I know I was hiding it from you, baby. Pero tienes que confiar en mí. You're on my mind every single night when I'm out. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I couldn't come back to you one night because I wasn't careful. So I stay careful."(But you have to trust me)

Both of his knees hit the hard concrete as he stares up into your glossy eyes, not daring to look away. "You can do anything, anything to me. I don't care. You can beat me the fuck up, mami. But, por favor, no me dejes. I need you! I need you to live, baby. I can't be without you. I don't wanna see you walk away from me. Please." (Please, don't leave me)

Miles whispered the words only for you to hear. All you wanted was that apology and you wished to give in so bad. You wanted him to stay. Miles stood when you looked the other way to catch your eyes again. "Just let me walk you home, mi vida, and we can talk about this in the morning, okay? Or even tonight, if you want to. Just don't give up on me, not like this." Miles's heart was racing a mile a minute. He really didn't know if he could convince you in this moment. Your face seemed to be stone cold. But when he grabbed your hand, you seemed to tighten your fingers around his. His eyes told you what his mouth couldn't say. And by communicating through silence, you let him pull you in the direction of your home.(My dear)

[gavisfanta]

18 w pedri please 🙏🏼

HAIR STYLIST - PEDRI

Doing these prompts, you can write a request by saying which number and a player i should write it with.

day 18 - brushing your hair

"Why are you taking so long?" Pedri yelled from your bedroom. He was waiting for you since about an hour. Meanwhile an hour ago you told him that you were going to shower and get ready for bed.

Clearly he was frustrated when he thought that you'd take about ten minutes. You snickered a little to yourself as you applied some oil to your hair.

"You just be patient." You yelled back since the bathroom was right next to his room. After that you heard some ruffling and the next second Pedri walked into the bathroom and stood behind you.

You looked at him through the mirror while you ran your fingers through your still wet hair.

"That takes you one hour?" Pedri looked at you and took a step to your right to look at you.

The way Pedri kept looking at you with his mouth slightly open just made you smile. He knew that he had that affect on you.

"Doesn't it hurt to have your arms like this the whole time?" Pedri wondered and put his hands to his head.

You shrugged your shoulders and then grabbed a hairbrush. "Yeah but I still have to comb it, blow dry it and then comb it again so-" You shrugged your shoulders once again and he let his hands fall down to his thighs.

"Your arms are gonna hurt like crazy." Pedri looked at you and all you coukd do was look at him while you started ro comb your hair from the ends.

"You know I do this every third day." You gave him a look.

"Yeah but I never really saw what you do because I'm either cooking for us or in the bed waiting for you to finish up." Pedri leaned against the counter and watched you.

"Well you said you love my hair like this" Pedri looked at you for a couple of seconds after you said that and then straightened his posture.

"Let me do it for you" He grabbed the dyson blow drier from the counter and stood behind you, however, before he could've turned it on you turned to face him.

"You're not gonna burn my hair, thanks though." You smiled nicely while taking the dyson out of his hand.

"I'm not gonna set your hair on fire, don't worry." He reassured you and you looked at him for a couple of seconds. He looked genuine, so you gave it back to him and turned around to look at him in the mirror.

The quiet noise of the dyson was heard as Pedri started blow dry your hair from the top while he grabbed your hairbrush from your hand.

A smile crept on your face as you watched him through the mirror and noticed how concentrated he was. He made sure not to pull your hair with the hairbrush so he was gentle until you said something.

"You have to apply a bit more weight onto that hairbrush or else it's doing nothing." You smiled as he made eye contact.

He nodded his head and then went through your hair with it again while still pointing the blow drier towards the back of your head. "Like this?" He asked.

"Mhm" You hummed while your lops curved up into a smile. He looked so adorable when he concentrated onto something.

He dried your hair pretty well, he then eventually asked you to turn around so he could dry the front parts of your hair.

You smoled the whole time as you looked him in the eyes. He however didn't make any eye contact since he was still looking at your hair.

Pedri however noticed the way you looked at him and sometimes he quickly flashed his eyes to yours and that only to leave him with a huge smile on his face too.

After he was done he put down the dyson onto the counter again and grabbed your hips with both hands.

He turned you around and then combed through your hair again now that it was dry. After he put down the hairbrush he pushed you closer to the counter and stood very close behind you.

His right hand moved up to your hair to expose the left side of your neck, he then hid his face in the crook of your neck while his hands wrapped around your waist.

You smiled as you put your hands over his and he started leaving sloppy kisses along your neck.

"I did such a good job." He lifted his head again and took a step back. You turned around and looked back at the mirror before turning to face him.

"You did an awesome job amor." You took a step closer to him and wrapped your hands behind his neck while his hands pulled your hips closer to himself.

"We should do this more often." He suggested to which you only nodded. Who could say no to spending even more time with him?

[lizaluvsthis]

The more you love them, the more it hurts to let them go...

Aw what a cute ar-

-

I have my phone temporarly now so I just need to rush this piece and I can continue for a bit with other of my wips-

By the way heres some fluff and angst snack

-

SMG4 flinched with the felt of warmth wrapped around his shoulder and waist, tilted his head to the left to see SMG3 resting his head to his shoulder. "Tired already?" SMG4 raised an eyebrow, putting out his grin as three hummed.

"I wasted my whole f-cking power to keep the cafe running... ofcourse I'd be tired... I even have to stream for money-" SMG3 snuggled down his chin and his beard brushing through Four's soft baby cheeks.

"You know, you could've took some rest" SMG4 patted his head gently placing his hand to his back. "And somehow you still have to wrap your arms around me and just stuck yourself here" his eyes pointed through the man's pure red eyes.

"Oh excuse- ME- I suppose you don't want a hug then-" SMG3 slowly loosened his arms that were currently holding around his torso, but Four stopped him just in time never wanting to let go from this bound.

"What will I even do without you in it?" SMG4 held both of Three's hands steady from the hug, refusing to let go.

"I don't know- but to me? It sounds so gay for us honestly" the two chuckled lovingly. The two enjoyed quite a time with each other, spending their moments were atleast his greatest memories that he'd ever trully remember from his life.

He loved him, and he loved him back.

It's already been too obvious.

Or not.

In mistakes of the past he had done- why would Three still go on? How? Why? He didn't know, he wasn't sure.

All that mattered to him... everything... was all Three...

There is just no way he wouldn't forget about him, even this...

He's SMG3... his ex rival... his friend...

His...

"Aww the poor thing seeks the dreams of lies..."

A short gasp of breath awoken Four from his presence, how did he get here?

Oh... right.

He was just fighting the goop that took over Three's body, he got knocked out by the vision of lies, Three was never his boyfriend. They never became a couple, they were never...

Never...

They never loved each other because they were just friends...

"Wh-what was that..." he felt a tear form his eyes, he could almost dream about it. He could almost feel this moment turning to a real one, but being blinded by fantasy is a sick joke. He never wanted that because it was fake.

He wanted nothing but just Three right into his arms...

But he couldn't do that because...

"You're such a catch when it's with him eh? Tell me honestly, what do you really feel about him?"

SMG4 stood silent, he couldn't move his body due to the eldritch goop's tight grip resisting the gap to escape.

"Aww... how cute... and I thought it was starting to get better for you when you dreamed that... don't you just love it?"

The goop rise from the ground in a form of Three who it's been possessing, with three's inner spirit unconcious. Goop took the advantage to control his every temple.

"No... no- this isn't real... I never wanted this- I want HIM! GIVE HIM BACK!" He shouted, snapping back at goop's control. It shut his mouth giving him a sharp pain from the head scratching his skin.

Blood wore out, it dripped down fresh...

"Oh my... let's just say- SMG3 wouldn't be accompanying his body at the moment, he's more in the- "virtual" paradise he called home... you're all alone Four. It's only you..."

How his heart hit from the bricks, shattering multiple pieces. Three was thinking about that dream too hasn't he?

Three fell from that deep sleep- so deep that you can just drown- a silent- painless death- that dragged you below. Never to reach the surface ever...

"But don't ever worry Four... you can get him back in only one condition..."

SMG4 waited for his second response, with its body lurking near in the thick black-ish goop.

"I can have your soul, then I shall release him from the burden pain. Or. Leave it be til he forgets who you are or everyone he knows..."

[railingsofsorrow]

summary: you fail in an altercation with an unsub and people die.

pairing: s.reid x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of blood, injuries and violence; aversion to touch; angst with fluff at the ending.

A/N: a little drabble probably filled with grammar mistakes. I know the summary SUCKS.

navi

masterpost

━━━━━━━━━━━━

“let go, just— just let go of me!” you yelled at the paramedics poking your body. yanking your arm out of their reach wasn't enough to push them away, they kept on pestering you to no end. but you couldn't breath and the back of the ambulance was closing in and people just crawled out of nowhere to touch and block your vision and touch—

“let go of her.” spencer finally succeeded in getting past the police when he noticed what the first responders were doing. their job. yes. but the only thing he could focus now was your shaky frame and antsy gaze. your requests for some space masked your desperation for annoyance. “no,” he said shortly, a scowl at one of the EMTs that gripped your arm, trying to check your injuries. “hey, let go,” the professional sighed and stepped back, along with the other two who were trying to hold you down. you didn't need holding down. you needed people to stay away. you needed to breath.

“sweetheart,” spencer's voice rang through your ears in a faraway tone. almost as if you were underwater. “hey, it's me. can you hear me?” he really wanted to get you off the floor of the ambulance, but this would have to do now. he crouched down to your curled up position, maintaining a safe distance. “it's spencer, sweetheart.”

he waited patiently as you adjusted to the sound of his voice, surveying your whole body in search for injuries — more than the ones he was already seeing. you had a trail of dried blood on your temple, a busted lip, and by the way you were holding your wrist it must've been fractured too. god, he wanted to kill that bastard. a maximum security prison wasn't enough, he needed to get a taste of his own medicine. or worse, definitely worse.

you looked up. and there it was. the dam broke and your sobs started. spencer felt helpless. he knew he couldn't touch you because that would make everything worse, but how could he comfort you without immediate wrapping you in his arms? how could be made sure you felt safe with his mere words?

“i couldn't— I couldn't get to them in time.” you said between sobs, covering your mouth in a foolish attempt to stop those awful sounds. you couldn't control your emotions. but it suddenly felt as if you could breath again. “spencer, I couldn't—”

he cut you off, “it wasn't your fault. look at me, hey.” he forced his hands to retract as he almost cupped your cheeks. oh, his heart ached at your reaction. “it was not your fault, sweetheart. none of us could've gotten there in time. including you.”

but that's not what your mind said. that's not the truth it implied.

“i should've done something.”

“you did. everything you could have done, you did.” he said with a certainty that caused doubt in the guilt gripping your mind. you forgot every bit of aversion to touch to let him examine your wrist after he asked for permission. spencer didn't made you feel helpless. he wasn't a stranger. spencer was safety. he was the breath of fresh air you craved at that moment.

he grimaced at the marks on your wrist, tilting your head to investigate the origin of the dried blood. his conclusion was that you most certainly had a concussion and you needed professional care on the superficial cuts on your arm and lip. he may be a doctor but he wasn't a medical doctor.

“baby,” he mellowed, tone like honey, when he decided you had calmed down enough. “can I get them back in? you need to disinfect these and probably plaster your wrist.”

you let out a sigh as his fingers softly work to dry your tears. “will you stay?” you ask rather pathetically. you never needed spencer more than you needed at that second. you just needed him.

“where else would I be?” he pressed a kiss against your forehead, careful to not touch any of the bruises. “okay, are you ready?”

you groan softly, relaxing against the ambulance walls. “will they take me to the hospital?” spencer gave you a look. “i'm fine.”

“sure.” spencer nodded, pretending he agreed. you knew he didn't. “i'll be right back, okay? don't move.” when you shifted to a position that your head was resting back and your eyes shut. he made a sound of protest, startling you. “no. no sleeping. you have a concussion.”

“i'm not gonna die, spence.”

“no sleeping.” he pointed at you sternly. hotch-gaze-stern — well, he tried.

you positioned your cheek on your good hand, rolling your eyes. even that hurt, but you didn't let it show. your boyfriend was back before you noticed his absence. he did ride all the way to the hospital with you, not leaving your side for a single minute. just like you needed.

[anantaru]

𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗬 𝗕𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗛𝗗𝗔𝗬 !

˖˚˳⊹ it‘s your birthday and they pamper you feat. childe : ayato : diluc : tighnari : itto : zhongli x fem! reader

˖˚˳⊹ warnings: nsfw

˖˚˳⊹ 𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗟𝗗𝗘

childe kneeled in between your legs to be able to move closer to your stomach, pampering your precious skin with open mouthed kisses and ever so lightly squeezing the soft flesh of your body teasingly. "everything for my birthday baby." he's smiling now, gaze locking into yours as he licked a straight like from your lower stomach until it hit right above your throbbing heat.

"I'm going to make sure you remember this day forever." his chuckle was deep and almost menacing, you could hear how serious he was about that particular sentence, his eyes gleaming sinfully, slowly hooking his slender fingers into the elastic of your pants to completely pull them down before dipping his head into your welcoming cunt. He was spreading your folds open to flatten his tongue right on top of it, tasting your sweet and addictive juices for the first time that night and archons, ajax could've come undone just now, the slightest pressure around his member would be enough, your slick way too goey and tasty on his wet muscle, he truly couldn't help himself.

˖˚˳⊹𝗔𝗬𝗔𝗧𝗢

ayato was making sure that he was completely free of his duties during this special day, it's worth to mention that he was spoiling you quite hard with presents as well, didn't know if you'd like this over that, meaning he ended up buying everything he thought would look suitable and nice on you.

but when it was finally night, he was showing a completely different side. His fingers were intertwined with yours now as he was messily thrusting into your cunt, that was squeezing him in further the messier it got. Ayato's face hid in the crook of your neck, his eyes scrunched shut as he took a deep breath to concentrate on the pleasure you both inflicted on each other. "happy birthday." he's smirking against your skin, "happy birthday my precious darling." for a second he stilled his thrusts, remaining deep inside your cunt without actually moving, face retorting back to your gaze, cupping your cheeks to swipe his thumb over your puffy lips that were still swollen from the heated make out session prior, "I love you."

˖˚˳⊹ 𝗗𝗜𝗟𝗨𝗖

diluc planned ahead of your birthday, preparing a dinner for the both of you before he'd give you a present he thought you'd love. He was a great listener after all, he knew what kind of things you adored and what you seemingly disliked after frequently spending time with you. What diluc did not expect was for the both of you to be unable to keep your hands away from each other, barely being capable of getting to the bedroom before he lightly pushed you back, so you'd plop on the soft mattress engulfed in the freshly scented sheets.

he's quick to take off his jacket before crawling on top of you, peppering your shivering skin with soft and tender love bites. Looking into diluc's eyes you could see the adoration and love he held for you, his body now completely on top of you before he lowered his face to capture you in a passionate kiss. "I hope you enjoyed your birthday today." he's breaking off the kiss for a moment, nudging your nose with his, "I'm still not done with my presents." you weren't used to diluc actually being so confident in his words when it came to intimacy, yet once he closed the gap between the both of you again you could certainly feel his semi erect bulge against your throbbing clit waiting for entrance.

˖˚˳⊹𝗧𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗜

tighnari couldn't concentrate on anything else than grinding himself deeper into your hole that was oozing out with your slick, coating his girth thoroughly without a care in the world. It was difficult to tell what tighnari was thinking, he was incredibly close to you, meaning you were able to see every feature that decorated his already beautiful face.

whenever your lips would touch lightly in the heat of the moment, your whole body trembled, desire burning through your veins as you looped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer into your embrace. "it seems you enjoy your birthday quite a lot." tighnari broke the kiss off with a low moan, saying in between harsh breathing, lips inches away from one another as he remained like that for a moment, as if he was waiting for an answer from you. "very." you're smiling at him while never breaking your gazes, you could see how happy he was with your response. He pulled his cock out almost completely, still leaving the tip before snapping right back into you, hands hooking up on your knees to push your legs up lightly, pace increasing with every gasp coming from your precious throat.

˖˚˳⊹ 𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗢

it almost seemed as if itto was even more nervous than you, he wanted to make this already special day even better than your previous birthdays. Though most plans he prepared in advance went down south but of course you were still entirely grateful for itto even trying to pull something together. "today's so special." he was voicing calmly for once while brushing his thumb over your cheek, pulling you into a kiss and acting like his fuck ups prior didn't happen.

"i wanted to make it perfect." he wasn't quite sure what had gotten into him once his grip on your hips grew tighter, "let me show you." breaking off the kiss to look into your eyes, " just how special you are." The next scenes were almost like a hazy thought, clothes falling onto the floor with messy and lewd kisses accompanying them until you were spread out on the bed only for his eyes to witness. Itto was always careful with you at first, making sure you're properly wet so his fat cock could actually slip easier inside of you, but once he was eating you out for hours you just couldn't wait anymore. "itto, please." you're whining, twisting and turning around his hold as he looked up at you, "just one more, it's your birthday after all." grinning with that one infamous smile of his.

˖˚˳⊹ 𝗭𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗟𝗜

"were you enjoying your birthday today, darling?" zhongli couldn't restrain himself and flashed you with a precious yet intriguing grin painted across the corners of his lips. He's got you spread out for him, your body bare and covered with goosebumps from his sensual touches around the soft flesh of your skin. "very much." you were trying your hardest to voice an answer and were relieved that you somehow managed to do exactly that.

"I'm glad." he's smiling, lightly biting down on his lower lip before his hands ran down your thighs, placing them on your knees and gently pushing them against your body. He's so close now, the tip of his cock brushing over your tight hole who just couldn't take all the teasing anymore. "please." you're gasping for air, spine arching upwards to welcome him further before he finally slid himself into you. He was slow and cautious, being aware of his length, the last thing zhongli wanted to do was hurt you or go too fast yet once you circled your arms around his neck to pull him closer, he couldn't help it but let out a beautiful low chuckle, very much adoring it when you were blunt about certain things. His throbbing cock was pulsating in your walls yet zhongli didn't move, it was perfect like that he figured, engulfed by your tight cunt while having you in his embrace. truly perfect in his eyes.

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

[missmeinyourbones]

cw: JJK MANGA SPOILERS!!!! read at your own risk!!!!! megumi and gojo centric, sad sad sad i am so sad 

“He’s just a kid.”

Satoru’s tone is one you’ve never heard from him. Quiet, strained, barely a whisper against the howling wind from outside. He's never not spoken with conviction; never had a voice that cracks with uncertainty. You hate it. 

“I know.”

He’s quick to clarify, “I mean, they all are. But he—”

He loses his train of thought—or rather, he’s not strong enough to finish it. To say it out loud in fear of it taking on a greater form. He decides on shaking his head and returning his voice to a whisper as he insists. 

“It’s different.”

“I know,” you repeat. Your hand holds his far too tight when you solemnly clarify, “he’s different.” 

“He—” a sniffle disguised as an inhale interrupts, “I taught him how to ride a bike.”

His words somehow sew the stitches of your broken heart back together before ripping them open once more. Bittersweet imagery swallows you whole. 

The thought of a tiny stubborn Megumi wrestling with something as minuscule as training wheels—what would then seem like the biggest obstacle he’d ever face. The cruel irony weighs heavy on your tongue. 

His barely four-foot stature somehow intimidating a lanky teenage Satoru. 

Satoru—not yet an adult but still volunteering any missed remnant of his own childhood in exchange for the right thing, he holds onto the back of Megumi’s bicycle seat for about thirty seconds before Megumi shoves him off and insists he can do it himself. 

In the silence of your home, Satoru sees it too—remembers it like it was yesterday. And what he, at the time, thought was the scariest thing that could've ever happened to him floods his mind, is now something he yearns to go back for. To do it all again, the exact same way, just to sit in the moment for a bit longer.

“Lil’ asshole learned so fast, I barely got to teach him anything,” he scoffs behind wet eyes, “but still.” 

You let out a snotty laugh, and it lifts the troublesome boulder on Satoru’s shoulder for a moment. A millisecond, maybe, but he’s grateful for it all the same. 

“And all the times he threw up in the middle of the night and I—”

His own sob cuts his words short.

More imagery floods your mind. This time, a shaky and clammy Megumi standing by the bedside of a sleeping Satoru. With unsteady hands and a burning forehead, he pokes and prods the guardian behind watering eyes. 

Satoru tastes bile as he remembers heating up alphabet soup on the stove at the crack of dawn. How Megumi would wait at the table, head in hands and blanket wrapped loosely around his tiny frame. Short legs swinging from the chair, yet to be long enough to reach the tiled ground. 

He wants to go back, wants to ruffle his hair and wipe his snot one last time. Wants to watch him grow like a weed and nearly surpass his own gigantic height. Wants to teach him all he can and not send him on that wild goose hunt for a finger that leads them here—separated and cursing their own decisions.

The world feels like it stops turning when Satoru barely speaks up, “He’s supposed to be my best man.”

Your blurry eyes can barely make out the silver band decorating his ring finger that matches the diamond on yours. One that’s supposed to promise you a lifetime of happiness, but right now serves as a reminder that nothing is promised. Nothing can be guaranteed in the world of Gojo Satoru. 

Still, you try to smile for him. “He will be,” you nod. 

But Satoru shakes his head. “Baby, we need to think realistically about all of—”

“We know nothing, Satoru.”

“We know enough.”

His tone is harsh, like a blade on glass, it scratches to leave a mark. It cuts you deep, even when it shouldn't because you know he isn't angry with you. But Megumi is not here and Gojo can’t think straight knowing he could’ve done something to change the pattern. 

With a deep breath, he catches the flash of hurt in your eye. 

Hands instantly wrapping around your frame, more so for himself and not for you, he shakes against your body. “M’sorry, sorry.” 

His nose tickles your neck as he hiccups. 

“I just…” he tries his best to say something, anything, to explain even an ounce of what he’s feeling. But nothing does it justice, so he decides on a simple whimper. 

“He’s everything.” 

And just like that, the water overflows, and all Satoru couldn’t say is on the table with a mere two words. He’s everything—a son not his, a brother too young, a bond more vital than the lack of blood that runs behind it. 

Megumi is everything, and he’s not here. 

You pull Satoru’s face from the crook of your neck and hold it in your hands as if it’s glass. It is, you try to remind yourself. 

You force him to look at you, to feel your determination when you speak with fire, “We’re gonna be fine.” 

Broken beyond repair, Satoru merely nods—but he knows the truth. 

He’s seen this play out before, his own history repeating itself, taunting him right before his six eyes. Too powerful in every way but the one that matters, Gojo Satoru is always too late.

Satoru knows both he and Megumi will not walk out of this alive. Only one, if either, is lucky enough to break the pattern. 

What he doesn't tell your pleading eyes and hopeful heart, is that he hopes it's Megumi. For the sake of all things good, please let it be Megumi who returns home to you.

[jals-stuff]

hi girlie!! i see that your requests are open... can i pls request hurt+comfort on orter with a flirty girl reader pretty please??? the lack of orter fics is crazy T_T

(guess who btw :3)

why hello there, dear. I'll guess you are m***i, and I agree, there aren't enough works on him.

Anyway, here's a poorly, quickly written one. It is supposedly proofread but it's 5am and I am very eepy!

Just a flirt!

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: none!

“Took you long enough.” 

You blinked a few times as he looked up from his paperwork, and mostly at the report you were holding. You had spent longer than necessary on this paper you’d received from Renatus, correcting rewriting the entire thing as it was just full of mistakes and this jerk was too lazy to give you anything that was decent.

“What, did you miss me that much?” You raised your eyebrows with a slight smile as you chuckled to yourself. Oh yeah, that was funny. Orter didn’t seem to find it amusing, as his expression didn’t really change at all. You made your way to his desk and sat on the chair facing it, handing him Renatus’ report.

He decided not to dwell on that stupid remark of yours and started reading the paper, taking notes on the side and making sure nothing is missing. Meanwhile, you were staring carefully studying his expression, and every single small nod he gave while reading.

“Renatus isn't usually this thorough with reports. Colour me surprised.” He blankly said and slid the report inside one of his drawers. You raised an eyebrow and looked at him with a proud grin. “Renatus gave me a piece of scrap, so I rewrote it entirely using the information he gave me.” you stated, crossing your arms as you looked at him, visibly waiting for some praise.

He stared blankly for a second and sighed, adjusting his glasses. “Well done, (Y/N). Very good work.” Though he was praising you, his expression didn't change that much and you could just feel how exhausting it was for him to give compliments.

“Mm, mm. That's right. I’m always good with my work when I know you'll review it…” You trailed off, looking at him with a satisfied smile and a small wink. He raised both eyebrows at your obvious flirting and chose not to comment on it, but you weren't done anyway.

“Anyway, I think I deserve more than just a little compliment! I rewrote the entire thing, you know?” You playfully pouted, putting on a dramatically sad, puppy eyes expression for him. Orter pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep sigh; he knew you wouldn't back down anyway.

“That was amazing work, (Y/N). Rarely have I ever seen a report written with such incredible finesse and precision.” He said blankly again, and it was clear he didn't mean it that much, although there was a part of truth in his words that he refused to admit, even to himself.

“Thank you, thank you.” You chuckled, knowing very well that he was exaggerating, but seeing as he played along, you decided to push your luck a little. “So what, am I getting a reward for all this hard work?”

Even if his expression didn't change, you could read him like he was an open book. “Was the praise not enough?” was probably what he thought at this point. You could've stopped there and brushed it off as a joke but your ego had been flattered just enough to make you bolder.

“How ‘bout… a little kiss? Just on the cheek! Like mwwwah!” you mimicked a kiss while pointing at your cheek and were absolutely convinced that your imitation was flawless. Of course, you were partially joking, and assumed he would just sigh and dismiss your comment, but no such luck.

“I have better things to do than to entertain your delusional little fantasies.” He simply spoke and grabbed his pen again to fill out some of his paperwork. Ouch. But that was his whole personality anyway, of course he wouldn't give you a little kiss, you already knew that, but hearing him say it this way tugged just a tiny bit at your heartstrings.

“No fun.” You sighed and crossed your arms on top of his desk before nesting your chin in-between them. “I am being highly underappreciated here.” You whined dramatically, and then regained your usual smug expression. “That's okay though, you're still my favourite.”

You could tell you were slowly but surely getting on his nerves, and it was kind of amusing to see him have to close his eyes and take a deep breath before focusing on his tasks again. He was already being very patient by allowing you to laze around in his office when you had free time, but he was gradually starting to regret this decision.

You were already done with your work for today, and sat in Orter’s office simply to enjoy his company. He knew, and for some reason he tolerated your presence as long as you didn't disturb him too much. 

Was any of your flirting serious? Of course it was. You genuinely liked him! You had been blessed with a sweet voice and a pretty face, and most of your colleagues at the Bureau would've dreamt of being in his place right now. He was very much aware of that, but it seemed off to him.

Even though your coworkers kept flirting around with you and quite literally trying to slide in your pants, you had denied every single one of them. From nameless staff members to the Flame Cane, none of them had your attention except Orter, and all of your flirting surely showed it… or so you thought. Things were awfully different in his mind.

Now, you were just looking at him and his paperwork, fiddling with some trinkets on his desk. Being in the same room as him was almost enough for you, but you kept feeling this physical need to flirt with him, to demonstrate how much you liked him, and you would've thought he had a clue, as you kept making it painfully obvious.

His eyes travelled to your hands as he put one of his papers down. “Stop it.” He ordered, and you immediately let go of the trinket you were toying with in a deep sigh now.

“But I’m bored.” You mumbled, and he put down his pen, his hands now joined on top of his desk. He looked at you for a bit, your almost childish behaviour was starting to irritate him slightly.

“Then leave.” He raised his head slightly as he took off his glasses to wipe them. “Nobody asked you to sit here and disturb my work with your… immature antics.” Ouch, another one, but at this point, you were used to his spiky remarks and simply shrugged it off.

“Aww, but I'll miss you if I leave, you know~?” Again with the puppy eyes, making your expression unnecessarily dramatic again even though you meant every single word you said; but saying it in a completely blank tone would embarrass you way too much. “And I know you'll miss me too, hehe.” You playfully added.

He put his glasses back on and gave you a very stern look and raised an eyebrow very slightly. “Surely, there are other victims that await your attention somewhere else. Why not pay them a visit instead of constantly disrupting my focus?”

He sure was in a foul mood today, wasn't he? But his comment felt like a sharp blade into your stomach and you just needed an explanation for it. “What is that supposed to mean?” Your flirtatious demeanour was temporarily suspended as you weren't quite sure what you'd just heard.

“Are you already done seducing your other colleagues? Must I suffer your incessant flirtations in their place now?” He asked again, and it didn't sound like he was being sarcastic at all, but at least you now knew.

“Orter… are you jealous?” You asked, and your tone was dead serious. It was inimaginable that he could ever feel jealous about something so petty— something you hadn't even done in the first place.

He took a deep breath. “Nonsense. This is wishful thinking; I am merely aggravated by your attempts to turn me into one of these loyal… dogs you have around at the Bureau.” he scoffed, and you could tell he was not pleased with your behaviour.

“...what?” was all you could utter, as you looked at him in disbelief. “You don't know how wrong you are about this, clearly.” You didn't want to be rude to him even though he really deserved it right now, but you seemed to be testing each other's patience.

“How wrong could I be? These people are head over heels for you. Surely, this doesn't happen without a push.” He firmly stated, and again, he was wrong. “Whatever have I done for you to think I’ll be one of them?”

You had always hated arguments, but having one with Orter was the worst that had happened in a while. He was fully convinced that you were but a flirt, a temptress that relished in having people crawl at her feet… but that wasn't it, and these people weren't exactly crawling either.

“How can you say such a thing?” You looked at him in heavy disappointment. “How could you think such a thing, after all of… this?” After all of the obvious flirting you gave him, the endless remarks about how you miss him when he isn't around or your constant winking.

He was just staring in religious silence, thinking you'd give up and simply admit your faults so he could go back to work without any disturbance, but he was once again very wrong, and you needed to justify yourself. 

“Why would I flirt with anyone other than you at the Bureau?” you asked, standing up from your chair and placing both hands on the desk in front of him, and he simply adjusted his glasses on his nose.

“Because that's who you are, it would seem.”

You sat back in defeat, looking at him, completely dumbfounded. Every word you wanted to say ended up getting swallowed in the whirlpool of emotions you were feeling, and you couldn't do anything else than stare at him. You could physically feel your heartstrings being pulled now and it was disturbingly painful.

“Is…” you swallowed your emotions down before trying again. “Is that really what you think? That I'm just the type of girl to flirt around and just… sleep well afterwards?” Your tone made it obvious that you were hurt, and it didn't go unnoticed. 

But he was convinced. Convinced that your flirting was not a rare occurrence, that it extended beyond the limits of his office, that surely you had already done it before and he was probably just one of those targets you'd use to boost your self-esteem. Even though he was upset with you, his goal wasn't to hurt you, and he decided to avoid your question, not knowing what to answer anyway.

“I don't even know why you're trying to justify yourself that hard.” He finally sighed and grabbed his pen again, which was his way of telling you that this conversation was over and you had to leave; but you wouldn't let go just yet, not before you had said your piece. 

“Because it's you we're talking about.” You blurted out, once again flabbergasted by how dense a man could be. “How straightforward do I have to be for you to understand? Have I not been vigorously flirting with you?” You asked loudly, almost laughing nervously.

“You sure have, but—”

“Have I not made it crystal clear that I am into you? That I want to spend time with you?” Oh, you had no will to listen to his flawed reasoning and you just couldn't take it anymore. You were trying your best not to tear up in front of him already, and any more of his baseless accusations surely would make a sufficient push to make you cry.

“I never said you didn't d—”

“Then why are you so blind to my feelings?” You interrupted again, but this time way calmer. You sat back, weakly plopping down on your chair and staring down at his desk for no apparent reason. He didn't really say anything. In fact, he was processing the information you had just given him.

You felt terribly awkward after your half confession, and that clumsy part of your personality couldn't take the silence anymore. “How can someone that dense be in charge of the Magical Power administration..?” 

Were you jesting? Probably. But what else could you do anyway? Your main goal was to keep your composure and hold your tears back, at least until you were out of his line of sight. His eyes were on you, they had been the whole time, but you couldn't muster the courage to look at him anymore.

“May I speak now?” He asked, first of all wanting to make sure you wouldn't interrupt him anymore, and only now did it occur to you, how rude you had been these last few minutes. You gave a nod and he sighed deeply, joining his hands against his desk and looking at you with a bit of a softer expression.

“I never said you haven't been straightforward.” He started, and now that you were a bit calmer than before, you could feel your shame grow at his words. “I never said you didn't do all these things you talked about so… fervently. I am merely saying that I do not believe you are exclusively trying to seduce me.”

You sighed again, and he braced himself for another rant but instead of justifying yourself again, you ran a hand through your hair and took a deep breath. Looking all sad and defeated wasn't like you at all, and you needed to prove yourself to this dense, silly, overworked man.

“I don’t get it. Why does the fact that I supposedly am flirting with other people bother you?” You decided to ask, your arms crossed over your chest as you were now back to studying his expression and tone. If you were going to cry, so be it, but you wouldn't go down without a fight, especially for him.

He takes a minute to think, narrowing his eyes slightly. “What bothers me is the way you act with those people, and how you pretend to be innocent afterwards.” You gave him a confused look and he decided to develop. “The way you politely smile at them and make small talk. You're almost inviting them.” He said that while keeping his straight face and cold glare, completely serious.

Oh. Oh. 

“So you are jealous.” You couldn't help but smile a little and finally look up at him, only to be met by an utterly confused Orter, ready to absolutely deny your claim.

“I am not jealous, (Y/N).”

“What if I stopped talking to all of them then, would it make things a little better?” You offered, suppressing a smile and pretending to act serious. He seemed to think for another minute again and leaned back into his chair.

“Yes, I believe it would.”

Ah, you couldn’t take it anymore and just burst out laughing; he didn’t seem to like it very much but it was impossible to resist. You just had to make sure again, and so, you slowly regained your composure and caught your breath, then exhaled deeply. “So, let me get this straight…” you started, and he listened. “What upsets you is the fact that I am supposedly flirting with other people, and if I didn’t smile at them or made small talk, you wouldn’t mind my flirting?”

You did not miss that sigh of relief. He adjusted his glasses again and crossed his legs, looking at you very seriously. “I am glad to know that you have ears.” He said blankly, his expression still so cold as his eyes landed on yours again. “Are you making fun of me now?” His voice sounded slightly irritated and you had to calm yourself down again.

“No, not at all. But you just admitted to being jealous so… I win.” You could feel all of your earlier worries dissipating. He wasn't denying it either, instead looking like he was thinking about your reasoning; you had him cornered now. 

And the best part about all of this is that he has no clue what he just signed up for.

[testingthewatersss]

One day I'll get a request and keep it short, but uh, not today because this could've easily been a series. Under 4k is good for me though, so that's a win.This is my first time consciously shooting for a G/N reader in a long time so, bare with me.

Floodgates Usual Winter Solider context warnings but this is pretty tame tbh Bucky Barnes x G/N Reader Imagine 3830 words Fluff, mild angst. 18+ MDNI Requests open for a while via messages check masterpost for updated availability.

Everybody knows that Bucky is touch-starved. It's the unspoken truth that's used by everyone to excuse his irritable demeanour. It's the reason why nobody minds leaving the common rooms empty when he passes out on the couch in the middle of the day and Steve doesn't let Sam jab at him too much for how sweet he is on you. 

The hope that had flourished when you'd made your relationship a little more public was quickly dying out though. When all the inhabitants noticed that Barnes was still a grouch. If anything, he was more jumpy when people got too close. 

It was Bruce who suggested that the reason might be that the only person who didn't understand this blatant link between being kept isolated for the better part of a century and not tolerating mundane forms of contact might be Bucky.

After a lot of hushed discussion, Natasha was the one who decided to address it. Not being able to stand the undercurrent of gossip, but also not wanting to provoke any kind of intense reaction, she bided her time and cornered you. 

"Does Barnes know he needs some skin on skin, or is he still takin' the long way round figuring it out?"

Coffee catches in your throat. You're in a Starbucks, you've just run a stupid 5k route that you hadn't wanted to and she's asking you this, now?

"Of course, he knows" You reply after a beat, "I mean, we all know, but he really knows."

She looks unsurprised, offers you a brown sugar packet and sits back on her stool. 

"You know, couples-"

"Are you about to give me a sex talk?" you cut her off, humour making your lip quirk, "Please do not give me a sex talk"

"I wasn't talking about sex, we all know you're havin' plenty of that-"

You scoff at her, not bothering to ask how or why that's a topic of discussion at all. 

"-I know exactly what you're talking about..." you decide to say, tone a little more serious now, "...It's delicate, Nat"

"That's why I'm talking to you" she replies, "I want to stop hearin' about it, and the only way I can get Rodgers to stop talkin' is to stop him from worryin' and the only way to do that is give him something."

You consider her words for a moment before nodding. 

"He knows, I know- We all know, but it's difficult for him and I am not going to rush him into anything" You tell her, "but that doesn't mean I'm not keepin' an eye, and for what it's worth, he's gettin' better with the whole thing."

"His attitude didn't seem better this mornin'-" she counters from behind her paper cup, "He nearly Wilson put through a wall-"

"-for trying to get him to go to a couples therapist with Steve." You remind her smugly, "He told me all about it."

It's her turn to scoff then. 

"Any other personal things you want to ask me?" you press, half a challenge. She grins before making her expression intensely serious-

"So, about the sex-"

You don't linger in the cafe for long, and you definitely don't run back. You call a cab, much to Romanoff's dismay. The break from the serious atmosphere of the tower has done wonders for her mood though, and by the time you make it home your arms are ladened with bags. Fast food for everyone and clothes and some new kind of tablet thing that Tony had insisted he can turn into a portable holo-deck.

Bucky is waiting in your suite. 

The second you see him the conversation you'd had about his attitude seems ridiculous. 

He beams up at you so wide that he gets creases by his eyes, and all he can do is chatter about everything that's happened since you left.

Steve annoyed him by out-lapping him on their run. 

Wilson annoyed him, by well, breathing apparently. 

He's finally figured out how to fix the dishwasher, so he doesn't have to call maintenance anymore, and he's finished packing his bag for the mission he's leaving on in the morning, and, he tells you proudly- he's made dinner. 

It's some kind of soup, at least, you think it's meant to be a soup. But, whatever it is, it's good. And he's still smiling as you wash the dishes, bumping his hip against yours when you make a snarky comment about him still not using the dishwasher he's so proud of fixing.

And then he gets quiet. 

You're sitting together on the couch, the same way you have been for hours, with your legs barely touching but with his warm, flesh fingers wound tightly through yours. You think about asking why he's suddenly turned mute, but then you notice the time. 

"When do you leave?" You ask, stroking the back of his palm with your thumb.

"Four" he mumbles unhappily, giving your palm the lightest squeeze, "You're stayin' here, right doll? You're gonna wait for me?"

You laugh silently, pulling your legs up beside you to curl into his side. 

"Don't I always?" you tease, grinning as he reaches over with his metal hand, guiding your lips to his. 

"I'll be back before ten" He promises, "Steve promises"

"Oh, does he?" you murmur, lips still ghosting his, "You know he's driving Natasha crazy"

He quirks a brow, even so, close to his face you can see curiosity shining behind his eyes. 

"Aparently you're a jerk because I don't give you enough skin on skin"

He rolls his eyes, laughing as your fingers find his cheek.

The second you actually touch him, though- the laughter dies. He has to focus all of his energy on not moaning at the contact. 

You feel him tense and lessen the pressure, letting him move instead, pressing another kiss against your lips as he goes back to looking at you, this time, though, there's nothing but adoration behind the blue. 

"you do plenty" he whispers, before moving quickly, standing and pulling you up with him, carrying you effortlessly, "I'm fine."

"I know" You hear yourself agree, although you think he'll hear the doubt in your tone, "But- if you do ever want something, you know I'm here, right?"

What Bucky wants he thinks, is totally irrelevant. 

He wants to lay in your lap for hours, he wants to fall asleep and stay that way for hours because your fingers are in his hair. He wants to cry and not have to hide in a shower to do it. But you deserve better.

You deserve normal.

As normal as he can give you anyway. 

Not that that's much, but he can't control that he reminds himself sternly, what he can control, however, is this.

He can keep the floodgates closed. He can do what he does best and keep it down. 

He can make do with fleeting points of contact. With your hand in his, and your body in the same bed. The warmth of you is more than enough. You being there, smiling safe and lovely is more than enough. 

And when he places you on the soft mattress and watches you start to tangle yourself with the covers, he's once again certain that that is all he needs. 

What would I say, anyway? he thinks sadly, taking his place on the side of the bed that always seems too cold, How could I even bring that up without openin' a whole can of worms? 

His cheeks burn hot with embarrassment, and as he thinks tragically about how much he wants to just reach out and feel you, his eyes start to sting.

"You doin' alright, sweetheart?" you ask, already knowing that he's not. He nods though and forces a smile you recognise. 

"Tired" he mumbles unconvincingly. 

Before his cheeks can get any more pink, you decide to smile back. It works to settle him. So does the way you reach out to take his hand again. 

"I'll try not to wake you up" he promises quietly, "I'll see you tomorrow night"

"Tonight" You correct, looking over at the clock on his nightstand, "It's 1, you're leavin' in 3 hours, you better try and get some rest."

You don't know whether he does or not. He's gone when you wake up, reaching out for the fingers you normally fall asleep holding. He's left a note, telling you he loves you, and that he'll see you soon. And you tell FRIDAY to send him a message wishing him luck. When you don't get a reply, you decide to keep yourself busy. You order a delivery of food, which Bucky needs more than he realises, the state of his small built-in kitchen is shameful it's at best and depressing at its worst. 

In all fairness, a punnet of pulmbs, some milk, 2 carrots and half a loaf of bread is far from that- but still. A stock-up isn't going to hurt anything.

And then you still haven't heard, and the tower is creepy when it's empty. 

Like a school at night, you muse, walking through the walls, chattering to FRIDAY just to have some background noise.

Aside from assuring you that everyone's vital signs are fine, she can't actually do much to distract you, so in the end, you abandon her too and settle for sitting in your suite, on the bed, exactly where Bucky had left you. 

You fall asleep reading and only wake up when you hear the door click open. You beam, rubbing tiredness from your eyes as you wait expectantly for him to come in and greet you. 

He doesn't though. You can hear movement but it's not coming towards you, so you decide to just go to it instead.

"Hi, sweetheart-"

Your happy greeting dies as soon as you see him. Flushed with adrenaline, and tugging at his belt, which is still laden with grenades. When he finally rips it free, tossing it to the floor with such reckless abandon that you can't help but cringe, you walk towards him. 

He's pulling at his vest now. Metal fingers pulling desperately at the straps that hold it in place, growing more and more frustrated as he can't quite get them loose-

"Here" you whisper, hating the look of anguish he's wearing, "Let me help"

His arm snarls as you reach out to replace his fingers with your own. But to his great surprise, you don't even flinch. You just hush out a soft breath and guide the metal palm away. 

"You're fine" you promise, seeing the way he's relenting. 

His brow meets the window as he leans against it, both arms falling lamely to his sides as he focuses on breathing. 

On staying still and not just taking off running until his legs give way beneath him. 

"You're back late" you muse, flicking a glance at the wall, where the time is being projected by what you're assuming is Tony's version of a wall clock.

11: 33

"Not too late though, huh?" you continue, knowing he likes the background noise, "Is anyone hurt?"

Bucky gives a short shake of his head. 

It hurts. The movement sends daggers through his eyes. But still, he bites his tongue and tries to keep still.

He needs the vest off. He needs the layers of heavy, bulletproof padding, gone. He needs to not feel like he's dressed for battle, and he needs the ringing in his head to stop.

"Just you then" you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

"'m fine" he mutters, knowing you won't argue- especially since it's exactly what you've just told him.

You hum in quiet disagreement instead. Tugging the last of the straps free before letting the rough weighted vest fall to the ground with a dull thud that makes you wonder if you should've checked it for explosives first. 

"Better?" 

Your voice cuts through the pulsing in his ears, making him hyper-aware of the way he's still resting his head against the cool glass of a window of all things. 

Is it better? he thinks, rolling his shoulders unhappily. 

"Yeah" he murmurs, "Yeah, thank you, sugar"

And then he turns to you, wearing the fakest smile you've ever seen, and you can't help but reach out and stroke his cheek. 

He flinches. He physically recoils back into the glass with a look so sad that you miss the false grin. 

"They-uh" he coughs, embarrassment burning through his chest, "They shouted my words out through a speaker" he confesses, "I- I probbaly shouldn't even be here- Steve, Tony, they all, all say I'm okay, but I- I might... I, I just wanted to see you"

Your phone is already in your hand. Typing frantic questions to Natasha, to Tony and Steve and feeling your whole chest relax as replies start flooding in. 

The words are deactivated, as deactived as they can be, anyway. He's not a danger, not that a different answer to that question would've changed anything, and everyone knows where he is. When he'd bolted from the Quinn-jet in irritable silence, the entire team had let him go because they knew exactly where he was going, and considering the fact that he's physically uninjured, fighting to get him to go to Med-bay would've been a waste of everyone's energy. 

They still might've tried, in fact, Steve definitely would've tried, if they hadn't all been exhausted already. 

When you look back up at him, your heart cracks straight down the middle.

He's just, waiting. 

Eyes closed, brow on the glass,with his breath making it fog up by his face. 

His back is heaving too, shining in the dim lights of the room. His back is shaking like he's crying, but his jaw is locked tight. 

"What do you need, huh?" you wonder softly, not moving to touch him again, "Sweet, sweet boy- you got off that plane, and you ran- you ran all the way here, and then you stopped in here, why?"

His eyes flicker open, red and sore. 

"I" he swallows, "I had to get it off"

You quirk your head, not understanding, and then you see the vest by his boots and nod. 

"It hurts" he mutters to himself, "It's always hurt. I needed it off"

You know he's not talking to you, but you nod all the same, hoping that it might at the very least encourage him to keep his eyes open.

And then you realise what he's saying, and you can't keep quiet anymore.

"What hurts?" you ask softly.

His cheeks are hot again. He knows that he's embarrassed. That he should be, that it's right that he's burning with shame, but with the way his head is splintering he really doesn't care.

"The vest," he tells you quietly, "My skin, it- uh...it's always... the scars they uh... I- I needed to get it off..."

He looks at you, expecting to see a hint of something. Disgust, maybe? Or pity. What he doesn't expect, is the way you just nod again, expression understanding as you inch closer towards him. 

He bites back a whimper, using all the strength he has left to not just collapse in your arms. 

Keep the floodgates closed.

"Its off..." you remind him mildly, "Your home, it's off... so, what else do you need?"

Bucky blinks, sniffing to try and stop tears from forming as he stares at you.

And then, he hears you sigh, and his chest tightens so much that he can't catch a breath. 

A sigh is never good. He thinks. He's done it. He's finally done it. He's done something that has made you realise he's a lost cause. 

He's the lost cause. 

But, when he forces himself to look back at you, wanting to memorise your face before you leave his world forever, no matter how painful it is, he sees you smiling. Leaning against the window, only inches away from him. 

"I want to help" you promise softly.

A disbelieving scoff bubbles up through the tightness of his throat, and for a second, you think he looks like himself again. Even if he's a little rough around the edges.

"You did..." Bucky reminds you quietly, "I couldn't get it off, and you helped me"

The urge to roll your eyes at his gratitude is quickly tempered by the genuine affection in his tone. You settle for nodding instead. 

"So what else do you need?"

This time, when your hand meets his face he shivers. Feeling something deep in his chest snap as he starts to lean back into the contact. 

"C-could you..." he gulps, desperately shy now, "God, doll- could you just, touch my hair?"

"Your hair" you murmur, love drenching every word as you slowly trail your fingers up past his temple, stroking through the tangled length so gently he wants to scream. 

"Please" he shudders, "don't pull-"

His frantic request chokes off incomplete, the heat in his cheeks making his jaw lock petulently.

"You don't like havin' your hair pulled?" you muse, tone light in contrast to his, "Noted."

"Does anyone?" he wonders bravely, adjusting to the slow, trailing warmth across his head.

You laugh at that, further coaxing him out of his embarrassment.

"Sure they do, Buck," you tell him conversationally, "people like all kinds of things..."

He's melting. He's sure he's physically melting into your fingers. Into the gentle tug and pull, into the wonderful, brilliant sting of human contact.

All you hear is the softest hum. It's content though, so you take it as a win. 

"So since this definitely a winner..." you drawl, bringing your free hand down to his, letting him grasp your fingers in reflex, "What else do you like?"

The part of his brain that isn't purring like a cat, stuttering to a halt at your question. His eyes focus, as he blinks at you, face full of such total adoration that you feel like you should probably look away, but he's so beautiful that you can't quite manage it. 

"You"

That makes you laugh, small and flattered as you shake your head.

"You've got me, Barnes." You remind him lightly, "If we could be doin' anything, anythin' in the world, right now what would we be doin?"

The smile he gives you then is the most precious one he's ever worn. Your whole body flushes with affection as he chuckles silently reaching up and pressing a kiss against the back of your hand, as you scratch your free knuckles against the back of his head.

"I have no idea" he mumbles honestly.

Your brow quirks, before you move, pivoting and opening your arms to coax him in.

He freezes, staring at you with longing as he offers a sad shake of his head-

"I can't- darlin'-" he stammers nervously, "I want to- I- I really- I-"

"You" he hears you whisper, "can do whatever you like."

He shakes his head again, stubborn this time.

"Not that" he mumbles, "Not to you"

"To me" you repeat, curious.

His lips tighten and then part, breath shallow as your thumb finds his cheek.

"I won't be able to stop" he explains, voice quiet like he's sharing a secret, "If I start, I won't ever be able to stop and you- you're-you're everythin' to me and I- I can't put that on you- because I really- I mean it- I don't-"

Your head is already shaking, your arms are moving, pulling him into your chest. 

"I don't think I'll ever be able to stop" Bucky feels his words melting into your shoulder, he feels the heat of your body against his. His bare chest burning against the thin fabric of your vest. The feeling of your skin against his threatening to make his knees buckle. "I- I won't be able to stop"

You shake your head, hushing him as his resistance fades away to nothing. As he goes pliant in your arms, head falling to the crook of your neck. 

"I'm sorry" he whispers, "I'm so sorry"

"You're never listen" You mumble in reply, letting his hand go so that you can hold him tight against your front, "I just told you, sweetheart..."

Bucky pulls away just enough to look at you, and when you see tears brimming in his eyes, you can't help but hush him again, noting the way his hands are wound tight into the fabric you're wearing. 

His lower lip pouts, he tries to avert his gaze but it doesn't work. He just can't manage to tear his eyes away from you. From the way you're looking at him, full of affection. Full of patience and kindness and-

"Didn't I just tell you, huh?" you murmur, smiling a little again, "You've got me"

He blinks, still not understanding. 

So you do the only thing you can. 

You kiss him. You kiss him until he pulls back, until he dips back down into your arms, tired and aching and pressing his own kisses against the skin of your throat.

"I'm not goin' anywhere" You remind him gently, "We don't ever have to stop"

We don't ever have to stop.

Your sweet words rattle through his mind all the way to the bedroom. 

If it weren't for the aching in his knees and the awful cold of the room now that he's not hidden in your front, he might not've even noticed the journey. 

He's too tired, now. His head aches, and his adrenaline is well and truly shot. But the hope of you, of more of the wonderful warmth of you, is more than enough to keep him moving through it. 

I've done worse for less, he reminds himself with every wounded step. 

We don't ever have to stop.

And then there's the bed. The edge of the bed against his calves, and he knows his hands are free and that he should be doing something but he can't think of what, no matter how hard he tries.

You remind him, your hands on his belt, your feet nudging his boots so he remembers to kick them free before finally lowering himself onto the covers.

For a minute the familiar coolness jars him. His head spins and throbs and pulses and then, 

and then your fingers are back in his hair. Your arms are wrapped around him, and all he can feel is warmth. 

Warmth and pressure building behind his eyes. Incredible pressure that finally spills free as his eyes overflow. As he surrenders and clings onto your back with all the strength he has left, and cries.

He sobs, silently at first, tears melting into your chest as you stroke his back. Whispering soothing words that you know he can't hear. Letting him finally just be. 

And then, he's asleep. And so are you, a tangle of limbs and covers and heat. The kind of heat that makes you drowsy, that makes Bucky drowsy. 

Drowsy enough to sleep through whatever nightmares were bound to have been triggered by the missions, drowsy enough to keep him that way for hours in a row. And when he does wake up, for the first time in... well, a long time- he's smiling.

[wyvernest]

Miguel vs very angry reader? Miguel is usually the one who is grumpy and broody but for a change has to deal with his usually cheery lover being unbelievably Moody and angry!

lo siento, mi alma

pairing: miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader

warnings: angst, comfort, fluff, happy ending, miguel kinda being a dick

summary: coming to miguel for comfort leads to a fight, his duty coming right between you

Usually, you would feel so happy and excited about visiting Miguel at HQ. You'd find yourself smiling so stupidly on the way there, surprised with your reflection in a nearby skyscraper, instantly reminded that you're so in love with him. 

But today wasn't one of those days.

Today, your monthly hormonal storm has decided to mess with your mood and patience in a way you weren't looking forward to. Usually, you'd feel more clingy and emotional, yearning to be close to your boyfriend, to be held by him, to cry in his arms because you were out of your favourite snacks. 

But then again, today remains odd among the usual habits.

Today, you felt anger boil in your throat, ready to burst at the slightest inconvenience. And plenty have already tested it. Miles scared the crap out of you by swinging an inch from hitting you, right before scurrying away with an echoed "Hello!" that rang so stridently in your ears. Peter also intercepted your wish-to-be-hidden trip to HQ, unsolicitedly informing you about the last thing Mayday ate, how cute she looked, and how she's been learning to use her webs with more agility. You held back your bubbling nerves, deep down knowing he only meant well.

Finally inside Miguel's extensive laboratories, you look up to spot the platform he usually inhabited empty. 

Great. Fucking hell.

And because expecting something good to happen and then having it snatched from you like a chocolate from a toddler makes you unfathomably angry, you feel hot tears sting your eyes.

You had wanted the comfort of his embrace so bad. It was the only thing that could've soothed your mood. So you found a flat surface to sit on and wait, probably one of the many machines and equipment he spent his whole time creating and testing instead of giving you the attention and love you craved so much, you thought.

It wasn't long before a long, sharp, red blade cut through the fabric of space, followed by the familiar silhouette of your beloved boyfriend. His mask dissolved away, revealing a terribly tired face, hair messed up and cheekbone slightly mauve with a forming bruise. 

He sensed you in the room, not bothering to offer you anything more than a turn of his head in your direction to meet your eyes before sprinting to his platform. Layla also glitched into the room, relaxed as usual. 

You squint, making out "canon divergence RESOLVED" on one of his screens, some hope blooming in your heart at the thought that maybe now he'd have time for you. But before you can inhale to speak, he opens up another portal.

You can't believe it. He didn't even speak to you, like you aren't his heart and soul, as he had told you so many times. 

So you snap.

"Miguel!" You shout, quick and harsh, wanting him to feel a fraction of the frustration that's gutting you right now.

He doesn't flinch.

"I'm busy. Wait for me at home." He speaks with authority and the confidence of a man who knows it wouldn't take much to make you listen to him.

You feel your pulse quicken, heart stuttering with anger and bewilderment.

"That's how much my emotions matter to you?" You shout up to him after a second of weighing his words. "That's the support and consideration I get?" Your voice cracks and you hate that he now knows how affected you are.

"I'm not even a fucking priority at this point. I'm at the bottom of the list."

"I can't deal with this right now. I still have the damage the last anomaly has done to deal with." He raises his voice at you, the words vibrating through the laboratory.

"So I'm on hold until Miguel O'Hara is fucking available? Will you also notify me so that I can present myself back to HQ, sir?" Your tone is dripping venom, sarcasm and sour tears threatening to burst into streams down your cheeks. You do, consider, in the back of your mind, that you're exaggerating. But the way he dismissed you is not an easy thing to get over. No greetings, no emotion, no nothing.

Just "I'm busy.".

No excitement to see you after a mission.

How are you any different than any other spider-person bothering him then? Where is the love he has for you when he's working?

He grinds his jaws together, not wanting to say something he doesn't mean, that he'll regret later. He knows you're particularly sensitive today, but he can't allow himself to soften right in the middle of a job. It's not how he works. He gets distracted.

"I said go home, cariño." He doesn't even face you as he speaks, as if you're a child throwing a tantrum.

You feel small. Irrelevant. He isn't even touched.

"Oh I will." You yell through a sob, your pain arrowing right through his chest.

"Only not to your home." 

You storm out without looking behind. Your ego soared and anger kept rising to your senses. 

You knew you wouldn't break up, or even move out. You just wanted him to feel something. 

You wanted to see him want you. To see him make the slightest gesture towards wanting to keep you by his side.

But the doors closed shut behind you, and you found yourself walking slower, just to give him some time to run after you.

He didn't.

You did your best to hide your teary eyes and runny nose, not wanting to deal with any unwanted attention, any questions, anyone knowing that you and Miguel just had a fight.

You didn't want anyone else's attention but his, and it killed you to acknowledge that.

You got home, finally breaking into tears. You let yourself fall face down into his pillow, still seeking the comfort he never gave you. The smell of him, the imagined, simulated warmth of his embrace.

He had a duty, you know he did. You just wanted to be more than a chore to him. You wondered if this relationship really was for you, head spiralling into the hormones, stress, and wrath. 

You, a needy, extremely loving girlfriend, with a man like him, with a full time job that entire universes depended on. You loved him, you really did. But you loved yourself too. 

The train of thought drifted towards sympathy as the flames of rage ran cold within you. Maybe you were too hard on him. Maybe he really did have urgent things to tend to, and was just trying to keep cool. He hasn't always been the best at showing emotions. 

You whine softly into the pillow, the scent of him flooding your already fluttering heart.

You don't know how much time has passed. You felt your tears dry on your cheeks and your eyes puffy. A creak of the bedroom door makes your heart beat right out of your chest, yet you attempt to stay calm. Heavy footsteps near you, before you see his shadow engulf your shape on the white mattress. 

He hesitates, looking at your quivering body, knowing he should haven't arrived earlier.

If only he could.

Your brows shoot up in surprise at the sight of a bouquet of roses he places on the bed next to you, but you don't get to think of what to say as he kneels at the edge, encircling your waist in his arms, placing his head on your shoulder, close to your own.

"Lo siento mucho, mi alma. Forgive me."

You snivel, humming a fragment of his name. He shuffles closer, seeing no retreat from you. He brings his lips to your stained cheeks, pecking over the salty traces. 

You instinctively shift into his warm embrace, chasing the comfort and touch you had wanted all day. 

"I'm sorry," you begin, "I shouldn't have-"

"Shh, no need" he stops you, pressing a sweet kiss shy of your lips. "No need, mi vida."

His arms tighten their hold around you as he pulls you to his chest. You grab at his biceps, pulling him on the bed. 

"The roses-" He whispers, hurriedly.

"Miguel!" You whine, entrapping his waist with your legs. He complies without another word; suit on, flowers still on the white sheets. With his massive body wrapped around you, finally content, you drift into a sweet slumber.

"Lo siento."

His voice rings low and quiet in your ears as you fall asleep, head on his chest.

translations: Lo siento mucho, mi alma - I'm terribly sorry, (my soul)

a/n: before yall beat my ass for the angst this is the best depiction of miguel x reader x anger issues from both that came to my mind, really hope you like it😭

[fetusgooseandjuice]

Sweet Dreams

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Wanda return to their home after a month of hiding out with the avengers and Y/N is struggling with sleeping at night, but everything is okay when she’s in her loves arms.

Word Count: 1,463

Warnings: Nightmares

Second Person POV:

You stood in the doorway of Wanda's office room. She was sat at her desk, and you watched her fingers move against the keyboard keys as she typed.

When Wanda noticed your presence she momentarily shifted her attention away from the screen to look at you, "Oh, hey, detka. I thought you'd be asleep by now. What're you still doing up?" Wanda asked, going back to typing.

Your sock covered feet patted against floor as you entered the room, plopping yourself down on her lap and letting your legs slip through the arms of the chair. You wrapped your arms around Wandas' neck, and rested your head on her shoulder.

Her eyebrows slightly furrowed when you just sat quiet, "What's up, dorogaya? Are you feeling okay?" she questioned, laying one hand on the small of your back while the other clicked around on the monitor with the mouse.

"I was waiting for you to come to bed. I didn't want to fall asleep without you." you explained, inhaling her comforting scent and letting your eyes fall shut.

Wanda glanced down at the time in the bottom corner of the screen, it was nearly eleven o'clock at night. "I'm sorry, darling. I didn't mean to make you wait so long. I just really need to get these mission reports in to Fury, and I lost track of time."

"It's okay, Wands." you lifted your head to press a gentle kiss to her neck in assurance. "Are you almost done?" you asked.

She sighed, "Not really, I've still got a little ways to go. I'm behind on a months worth of mission reports."

A month.

That's how long ago the avengers were forced to lay low for. After confronting a new foe, a full-fledge fight broke out. It all worked out in the end, but they thought it would be best to hide out in a safe house until things calmed down.

Everyone was left on edge, Clint and Wanda especially when their loved ones got caught in the cross-fire. Clint's family was attacked, and Wanda had to save you when you were in trouble as well.

At that point, the avengers mutually agreed that you, and the Barton family needed to tag along for your own safety. Now that things have settled down, everyone returned to the compound a few days ago, you and Wanda to your shared home.

Even though everything was back to normal, you were still a bit shaken up and could only sleep at night when Wanda was there to make you feel safe. That's why you were sat on her lap, clinging to her like a koala as she worked.

You nodded your head with a yawn.

Wanda looked down at you and sent you a sad smile, letting go of the mouse to brush a few stray hairs out of your face, "You're tired, baby girl. Go ahead back to bed, let me just save this and I'll be right there."

You shook your head and tightened your arms around her, "I'm okay, I know you need to finish this. Can I just stay here with you until you're done?" you quietly asked.

"Yeah, of course." she responded. "I'm gonna be a little while, though. Are you sure you're alright with waiting because I can turn it off for the night." Wanda questioned just to make sure.

You nodded your head, "I'm sure. Just wanna be close to you." you said, nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck.

Although it made Wandas' heart flutter, she was sad that now you felt scared to sleep alone at night. She couldn't help but think she could've protected you more when everything happened.

Wanda ran a comforting hand over your back while the other continued to type, "You're alright, detka. Close your eyes and go to sleep, I'll be here the whole time, m'kay?" she spoke softly, pressing a lingering kiss to your hairline. "I love you so much, sweet girl."

"I love you too, Wands." you mumbled, finally letting yourself drift off.

Wanda made sure you fell into a peaceful sleep by continuing to caress your back and occasionally pressing kisses to your head before returning her full attention to her unfinished paperwork.

~~~

Wandas' fingers continued to move swiftly across the keyboard as she typed. You sat on her lap with your head rested in the crook of her neck, sound asleep.

However, your restful state didn't last very long. It was only about an hour later when you let out a quiet whimper. Thinking that you just needed a little bit of comfort, Wanda slipped her hand under your shirt to rub your back.

Though when a few more whimpers followed by some incoherent words escaped your lips, she frowned. She pushed her work to the side for a moment to gently stroke your hair, but as her hand made contact with your head you flinched in your sleep.

Your once incoherent words now became somewhat louder and Wanda was able to make out a few panicked No's and Stop's.

"Shhh, malysh. You're okay, shhh." she tried to sooth you, but you just started to tremble and thrash slightly.

Wanda only decided to wake you up when she felt your tears against the skin of her neck. "Y/N, dorogaya. Wake up for me, darling, come on." she repeated to you.

She knows that you shouldn't wake up someone who's having a nightmare, but Wanda just couldn't bare to see you like this. It hurt her to know that you were hurting even if it wasn't physically.

So she reluctantly hovered her hand just over your temple, red wisps swirled around her fingers as she woke up your body.

Your eyes shot open and your head quickly popped up. Your heart was racing as you looked around the room, the memory of your nightmare still lingering very clearly.

But Wanda was quick to comfort you, "Shhh, detka, shhh. It's okay, you're okay." she spoke softly as she gently guided your head back to lay on her shoulder. "I have you. You're safe. You'll always be safe with me."

You buried your head into her neck as more tears fell from your eyes, but Wanda never let you go. Your hands were gripping the back of her shirt so tightly she thought it might rip, but Wanda couldn't have cared less.

She just wanted you to feel safe in her arms, and you did. You trusted Wanda when she told you that you were safe with her because she would never made you think otherwise.

Wanda continued to whisper sweet, reassuring words into your ears as she let you cry it out, knowing that you would feel at least a little better afterwards.

"I'm sorry." you sniffled as your breathing finally began to regulate.

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows, "For what, sweet girl?"

"For being so clingy." you quietly answered, looking up at her with bloodshot eyes.

She shook her head, running her thumb over your cheek to wipe away a tear, "You don't need to be sorry for that, detka. You're still shaken up, and understandably so."

"Yeah, but I should be able to sleep on my own. And I probably just interrupted your work with my nightmare. I'm sorry." you responded, hiding your face in her neck once again.

"Stop apologizing, moya lyubov'. " Wanda pecked your temple, "You went through something really scary, I understand that. I don't care how clingy you might think you're being, if it makes you feel even just a little bit better then i'll hold you for as long as you want me to, okay?" she spoke softly in your ear.

You looked up at Wanda only to find her already looking down at you with loving eyes, "Okay." you agreed.

"Good." she responded, "I can finish my work tomorrow so let's head up to bed now, yeah? We'll be more comfortable there." she suggested, starting to get up when you whined.

You shook your head, "I don't feel like moving." you pouted.

"Who said anything about you having to move?" she said with a playful frown on her face as she stood to her feet, picking you up with her.

You let out a small shriek, quickly hooking your legs around her torso to hold on. You and Wanda giggled as she made her way to your shared bedroom, letting you both flop down onto the bed.

Wanda pulled you into her arms just as she promised and let your head rest on her chest. You talked quietly for a while to let yourself lull back to sleep, and when you did it made Wandas' heart flutter.

She gazed down at you with a small smile, "Sweet dreams, dorogaya."

[nomazee]

The thing about Dazai is that he's cruel when he wants to be.

You know this—you've known this even before he admitted in his long-winded way that he's an ex-mafia member. He has a clever tongue, knows how to use it to his advantage when it comes to swooning women or interrogating suspects. He's multifaceted in that regard.

You've only really seen a glimpse or two of his mean streak, a vague memory of when you were ushered out of the Agency infirmary while Dazai was left alone with Kouyou Ozaki that one time. It's best not to think about it, you tell yourself, but all you can think about right now is that you really, really wish he could be that mean right now.

It slipped out somehow—in your rambling, you didn't even notice when you'd stupidly admitting your more-than-cordial-platonic-coworker feelings for him. But you did, and these are the consequences, just not the ones you were expecting.

Fingers twitching, joints tight and stiff in the cold, you look up at Dazai's blank eyes and the flat line of his lips. Stupid. You feel so utterly stupid, and you're waiting here for his response and yet there's none to be given.

What makes it worse is that his eyes are soft. He's not poking fun at you or rolling his eyes or brushing this off. You really, really wish he would, you wish he'd make a joke out of this and humiliate you, you wish he'd run to Kunikida and laugh about it with him and group you in with all the other people he's swooned before, but he just stands there. There's pity in his eyes, or maybe something like careful consideration as he chooses his next words.

"You..." and a thoughtful hum escapes him before he goes quiet again. You hate this. You hate every second of it and you just want him to laugh at your stupid feelings and leave you in the dust so you could cry alone and not in front of him. A burning feeling pricks the backs of your eyes and you're going to die right in front of him, because that'd be much better than dealing with this awful, awful silence.

"I don't think you really mean that."

And you hate him. You hate Dazai, because of course he'd say something like that. In all his self-loathing, he wouldn't think for a minute that you know what you're talking about—that you mean it. You hate him. This is crueler than anything else he could've done.

"I do, Dazai," and your voice is strained, and choked, and your face is hot with embarrassment because this is stupid and ridiculous and just supposed to be a workplace crush gone out of hand. "Just shut up. I do." And when he opens his mouth again to protest, you shake your head and roll your eyes and try not to make this whole thing more dramatic than it's already gotten.

"Whatever. I mean— whatever. I didn't say any of that. I didn't mean it like that. Can you forget it, please, and don't tell anyone, this is awful, Dazai, you're awful, you know."

"I know. I'm sorry."

In your years of working here, you've never heard Dazai Osamu say sorry, not like this. Not with gentle eyes and a hesitant breath. This is ridiculous. You're going to kill him.

"I wouldn't tell anyone," he keeps talking, he keeps talking and you're going to kill him, "That's cruel. I'm sorry."

Cruel. You want to laugh. He would know a lot about that.

[eunwhore]

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. Your husband forgets about the date he promised for tonight, but it's okay.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆. Suggestive behavior here and there, but is overall very fluffy; husband!Nanami deserves a warning

𝐀.𝐍. Dropping a Nanami drabble to cope with what's to come; I had a whole mental breakdown while writing this btw; can you tell I'm in love with this man ?

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 1074 words

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Reader x Nanami Kento

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. @dearmymoon @lacopinedechan - 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑟 𝑑𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

Your husband didn't do it on purpose. Really, he's the last one to forget about anything concerning your relationship. He's actually the kind of man to never forget about an important date in your relationship. He never missed any of your birthdays or important dates, such as the day you got engaged or when you first shared a kiss. 

So you're not mad at him when he doesn't show up to the restaurant you were supposed to share tonight. Your dear lover must've had a bad day again, one of those who keeps him concentrated on boring paper works for hours. 

That's why, after about an hour of waiting in the restaurant, you finally find the courage to leave by yourself after apologizing to the owners. Going straight to your lover's workplace with some things to cheer him up. 

30 minutes later, you're already in the elevator that leads to his office. The sound of your heals on the tiled floor alerts him of a presence behind him. As he turns around, expecting to see one of his colleagues, he's more than surprised to see you here. " ___ ? Don't tell me-" He hasn't finished his sentence that he's already looking at his watch to look what time it is. 

Kento could've thrown himself over a bridge after realizing the mistake that he made. How could he forget about your date tonight. He felt like the worst husband on earth right now and hated himself for getting to emerge in his work. He remembers the promise he made this morning about spending this night together after much time working overtime in his office.

He's quick to get up from his rolling chair to meet you halfway through his office. His warm hands find their well deserved place on your waist as you come close. You can't help but admire his attire, he removed his vest, his normally well tied necktie is slightly loose revealing more of his delicious neck. It also proves how much of a bad day he must've had. "It's okay love." 

The worried look on his face broke a piece of your heart, because you knew he would never do it on purpose and that he was probably injuring himself of ugly names for this small mistake. "I brought the date with me." You said with an endearing smile on your face as you place the bag full of sushi on his desk. Your hands being finally free, you don't lose a chance to touch him. They find they way slickly around his neck before you lean to give a loving kiss to his cheek. 

Your husband swore he could've asked your hand in marriage a second time from what is happening right now. He really wonders what he must've done in his past life to deserve such an amazing partner. His arms warp further around your form while his face nestles into the crook of your neck, getting to smell your oh so comforting fragrance. "God...I love you so much. And I'm so sorry for forgetting about tonight I-" As you were expecting it, he's trying to apologize for his omission, but you're quick to cut him off. 

"Kento. Don't apologize, please, the food is waiting for us, and I'm really hungry." He must be starving too, it's a common behavior for him to completely forget about eating throughout the day when he's too focused on his work. He straightens, taking a good look at you before letting go of you, much to his regret. 

It doesn't take long for you to attack these sushi a few minutes later as you both converse about your day. It's only after eating his last piece that your husband finally lets go. His back hit the back of his chair as a dramatic sigh, letting all of his pent-up frustration out before his gaze falls to your figure. 

Feeling observed, you meet his demanding eyes a few seconds later, your chopsticks between your fingers as you bring your last bite into your mouth. You couldn't tell, but at this exact moment, where nothing other than you mattered at that moment. He just felt at peace next to you, forgetting that he's still at his desk. The expression "It's not the bricks of a house that create a home, but rather the people you find inside those bricks"suddenly takes on its full meaning.  

You're startled when the blond man reaches to grab the back of your chair, making it roll closer to his after he lost his patience, that's how needy he was. "You don't know how much I hate myself right now..." He expresses whilst his hand slides up your thigh. "You even wore one of my favorite dresses." The air seemed to have taken a turn as his fingers caress your skin a bit too seductively for a sushi date. 

A flirty smile appears on your traits as you hear him complaining. "At least you'll be the only one seeing me like this tonight." He smiles as you mention this new benefit. Kento doesn't show it often, it's not something he's proud of most of the time, but he can get a little possessive sometimes. Especially when random men find it amusing to look in your direction when you look a bit too delicious. "You're right." 

He straightens, his hand never leaving your thigh, and by instinct your body leans towards his. A hand sliding on your cheek with affection. You can see his eyes wander to your lips, and you already know where this is going. "C'me here." He whispers, and you can't do anything but oblige. Your lips finally touching his in a soft yet hungry kiss, the kind that shows just how much love you hold for each other. 

Those kinds of moments never fail to remind him of how lucky he is to have you in his life. You had all the right to be mad at him, to just choose to get back home and wait for him instead of rearranging the night to make it special in its own way. Your only presence is enough to make him forget about everything around him. No one would find a takeaway in their office so romantic, and yet, he wouldn't trade this date for any restaurant in the world. 

"I love you ___." He whispers against your lips, voice full of appreciation and genuine love for you. 

© eunwhore 2023. 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃