#and he's so gentle hearted even if he doesn't want to admit it. and yeah. i'm fine and normal about nintendogs

[tommybowefuneralattendee]

sorry if you don't think the chosen loves like a starving dog but we have taste here

[yeyinde]

The 141 finding out you've never had sex.

Just casually drinking, playing cards. A joke causes it to slip out.

body electric: the virgin edition

Gaz, the instigator, mutters something about not having been fucked in ages. this springs up a sudden surge of comradery, because, yeah. neither have they.

Soap's devote Catholicism (i like to imagine) leaves little room for flippant intimacy. he tries to be a good boy. key word, of course, being: tries. but the last serious relationship was years ago. back when he was grunt. he's pent up. abstinence, yeah? he holds it tight in his hand. but the thing about fists is that they're often mistaken for anger. Soap's a realist masquerading as an optimist. he knows whoever falls into his jowls next will be a MacTavish by the time he's through with them. and commitment. well. his comes at a price. a hefty one.

Ghost prefers casual flings where he doesn't have to take any clothes off. unzips his trousers, frees his cock, and then tries to pretend he's a real, flesh and blood, human. to feel something, anything, except a vacuum between hollow bones. but his tastes are peculiar. on the side of unhinged. he hasn't found the perfect body yet satiate himself with.

Price. well. with his bloody hands, he thinks he'd rather not dirty the same people he swears to protect. and divorcing at the age of 30 does that to a man, maybe. his role as a captain (an excuse in retrospect) also keeps him from unleashing his wants. the very same ones that are probably best under lock and key, anyway. it's just for the best, really. something he ought to do because the moment he has another chance to sink his teeth into someone's neck, he'll tear them apart. break them into pieces.

despite bringing it up, Gaz knows the real reason he's single is because he's pushy. he wants. so he takes. and then takes some more. more. more. until his gullet is full of the person he's obsessed with. carrying them around in his breast pocket everywhere he goes. the perfect mate. the one he can shower with unfettered affection. a deluge, in all honesty. one with the ideation to drown. biblical floods. trapped beneath him. he likes it more than he should, but. singedom, then, he supposes.

and then you roll the dice. admit, sheepishly, that, technically, you have them all beat. zero is always lesser than five, ten, twenty. but it's this misstep—zero, never—that catches their attention.

suddenly, you're not surrounded by kin but a pack of wolves. all hungry in their own ways, all starving. it just makes sense to quench their hunger with you, doesn't it? friend, ally. pretty little thing. so sweet for them. and perfectly mouldable. putty they shape to their hearts desire. the perfect mate.

Soap grips his rosary. the sign of the cross, heavenly Father and Holy Spirit, digging into his palm like the burn of a baptism. what's devotion if not pain? he cuts himself on the gold. offers blood of the sacrament to whoever might be listening, and leans in, sniffing.

Price's knuckles are white. he leans back, hidden in shadows. all you can see is spark of burning orange from his cigar as he takes mouthful after mouthful of smoke, contemplating. assessing.

"that so?" he doesn't even need to look at his Lieutenant to know that the man has gone still. too bad for you, it's not from shock.

Ghost barely holds himself back. keeps tight in his seat. fists clenching. unclenching. he has a good enough read on the people around him to see the unfiltered desire ripping across their face. scorching. but to bite, with his mouthful of jagged, seraded teeth; ones meant to rip, break, tear, would ruin you. permanently. unequivocally. and—

"wanna give it a go?" all eyes turn to Gaz, electric in his seat. eyes smouldering umbre. "i mean, you trust us the most, don't you?" us. it's stunning, he thinks, the way Gaz can weave tapestry in the air like this with just his words. one tangled like shibari binds. "and we care for you a lot. we'll be gentle. it's up to you, of course, but—"

Soap's bloody hand disappears under the table. you gasp. "yer askin' fer it, ain't ye? beggin' so pretty fer it."

"n-no, i—"

"mind your manners." Price. his voice is chiselled into char, authoritative; low. a lulling command spoken in a breath of smoke. "and don't lie, love. or i'll have to take you over my knee."

the tension is thick. Soap's arm moves, slow. deliberate. Ghost has clench his jaw to avoid bearing his teeth. snarling.

Gaz cuts it with a knife. hews compliance into your skin with a fine needle point. "it's okay. we'll take such good care'a you. make you feel so good."

your submission is a heavy thing. oppressive. the shallow dip of your chin, the blistering heat simmering under your flesh, burning right, is the prettiest fuckin' thing he's ever seen. he does clench his jaw this time. tight, tight. tight

until something pops.

"okay." you yield. head bowed. beautifully submissive.

when he looks around, catches the predatory crackle in the air. his hackles raise. immediate. instinctual. and ah, right.

it's easy to forget he's surrounded by a wild pack of stray dogs. starving ones, too.

[lecsainz]

hii can u do percy jackson x aphrodite reader?? ty🙏🏼

ISN’T IT OBVIOUS

parings: percy jackson x aphrodite!reader

an: I'm not ready for the last episode 😭

summary: the one where you're a daughter of aphrodite and end up with the son of poseidon.

( my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )

You and Percy crossed paths during the trio's mission. You happened to be in the same diner as Ares, embarking on your own quest. Grover sensed your presence, and before you knew it, you became an unexpected addition to the group. Fortunately, Ares treated the group better upon learning that you were a daughter of Aphrodite, as he couldn't mistreat a child of his beloved goddess.

Percy was utterly captivated when he first laid eyes on you. "Who's she?" he asked Grover, his attention completely absorbed by your presence. Grover chuckled at Percy's obliviousness to everything else but you.

Impressing the trio as you slay a monster, you confidently remark, "What? Just because I've just painted my nails doesn't mean I can't defeat this ugly thing."

After you confidently slay the monster, Percy looks at you and exclaims, "I'm gonna marry that girl!" Annabeth rolls her eyes, saying, "Oh boy," while Grover bursts into laughter, leaving you blushing

He'd ALWAYS look at you with a little smirk.

It took Percy a while to muster the courage to ask you out, and when he finally did, he stumbled over his words in a nervous attempt.

"Uh, hey, Y/N," Percy started, scratching the back of his head. "I was thinking, you know, maybe we could, um, grab some... uh, food? Yeah, like a, um, dinner thing?" His cheeks turned a subtle shade of pink as he anxiously awaited your response. You couldn't help but smile at Percy's adorable nervousness. With a teasing glint in your eye, you replied, "Dinner sounds great, Percy. I mean, if you're not too scared to share a meal with me."

You wouldn't even need to use charm on him because, well, he's head over heels for you and would do anything without you even asking.

Percy would be the type to love listening to you talk for hours just to admire you.

On a quiet night, Percy appeared at your cabin door with a small box. He rubbed the back of his neck, a bit awkward, and said, "Hey, brought this for you." Opening the box, you found a delicate necklace with a seashell-shaped pendant, reminiscent of the sea. Percy nervously smiled, "I saw this and thought of you, I don't know... thought you might like it." Your heart melted with his sincerity, and you said softly, "Percy, it's perfect. Thank you so much." He scratched his head, a blush rising on his cheeks. "It was nothing, really." Before you knew it, you hugged him and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. Your siblings from the Aphrodite cabin, who were not exactly discreetly observing, let out a chorus of "awww" and enchanted smiles.

Deep down, Percy hopes you won't break his heart just for the sake of the Aphrodite kids' ritual.

During a casual conversation with your sisters, you found yourself talking about Percy. The way he smiled, the warmth in his eyes – everything seemed to stand out more vividly. Your sisters, with their knowing smiles, teased you playfully. "Y/N, you're glowing whenever you talk about him!" Blushing, you tried to play it off. "Oh, come on, it's nothing. We're just friends." One of your sisters winked. "Friends or not, there's something in the air when you're around him. Admit it, you like him."

He'd want to protect you from everything, and if you got hurt, Percy would blame himself for days until you assured him it wasn't his fault.

As you and Percy strolled through the camp, a boy from the Ares cabin approached you, nervously asking if you'd like to go out sometime. You exchanged a polite smile, ready to turn him down gently, but Percy surprised you. "Sorry, she's taken," he said, intertwining his fingers with yours. You looked at him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. The Ares boy seemed taken aback, and you couldn't help but chuckle. "Taken? Percy, are we...?" Percy grinned, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "Yep, we are. Officially. If you're okay with that, of course." Your heart warmed at his words, and with a playful grin, you replied, "Absolutely, seaweed brain."

Percy LOVES hugging you, so there would be lots and lots of hugs.

You two would be the clingy type, doing everything together.

He'd get suspicious every time a guy approached because, well, you're irresistible, and he definitely wouldn't trust the Hermes boys.

You'd suggest spa nights in Percy's cabin, and he'd gladly agree. Many times, he'd ask you to sleep in the cabin with him.

Movie nights that would end with you falling asleep on his shoulder, and he wouldn't know how to handle it at first, but he'd get used to it, feeling like the luckiest demigod in camp.

Percy trying to make cheesy pick-up lines for you in public and leaving you redder than a tomato.

Let's face it; you'd be THE it couple at the camp.

[riediaries]

you sigh at the scene outside of the classroom. the four of you was left inside the four cornered room when the electricity suddenly went out of use because of the heavy rain accompanied by lightnings.

"when will yaga-sensei get back?" shoko asks and geto answers. "who knows. he might already be on his room, sleeping." he slightly jokes.

"ugh. so boring. i don't have my cigarettes right now." shoko states and you glare at her.

"when will you stop smoking? it's bad for you health and you're even going to be a doctor.." your face forms a sour expression when shoko just laughs it out.

"don't worry. i'm not gonna smoke around you." she reassures which suguru questions her.

"so, you're gonna smoke around me and satoru?"

"huh.. why, yes. of course." the brown-haired girl chuckles. "you're okay with it, anyways." she shrugs like it was nothing for her.

"not okay with it.." satoru groans as he wakes up.

come to think of it. the annoying blue-eyed freak has been really quite ever since yaga-sensei left. no wonder it's been quite and peaceful when he's out of commission.

"but geto and you don't complain and [name] complains." she points at them.

satoru huffs in defeat, not wanting to talk any longer since he's still sleepy. "anyways, where's yaga?"

"call him yaga-sensei and he's out to see what happened to the electricity." you answer and look at him on his drowsy state.

he's quite.. cute. you admit. spiky yet looking soft hair sticking everywhere and his sleepy eyes made him hundred times even cuter.

just this once, you will admit that he's cute. just this once.

"oh.. it's raining." he says like he just noticed it. "i don't have my umbrella with me.." he murmurs.

"i have mine. you wanna share with me, satoru?" suguru teases his best friend.

"no way! it's better to be alone under the rain than with you in an umbrella." he scrunches his nose to express his clearly disgusted face.

"oh, c'mon! it's not like shoko and [name] have any heart to share their umbrellas with you." geto laughs and looks at the two girls.

"excuse me, geto. i have a heart but gojo doesn't have a room enough to fit on my heart and on my umbrella." you scoffs.

"as if i want to share an umbrella with you, pipsqueak." satoru rolls his eye with you and you did the same.

"like i also want to–"

"okay, okay. let's calm down." suguru rushes to save everyone's day. you and gojo are always fighting, making it everyone else's problem. such a handful duo.

"let's just go home, yeah? i bet the two girls have been wanting to sleep and relax on their dorm rooms." suguru turns to you and smiles. his gentle gestures and thoughts forms a genuine smile on your face.

"yeah. i wanna smoke so bad." shoko adds. geto and you laughs at her. "okay, okay."

"oh wow.. you smile at him but roll your eyes at me?" gojo's amused at the scene with you and geto.

"you don't deserve it." you roll your eyes to him again.

geto chuckles as he turns his body to the white-haired boy that's slumping on his chair, making a smug face.

"hah?" he stands up to make himself do an eye-to-eye contact with the dark-haired male.

"why? i'm simply smiling, satoru." he smiles to tease him more. he knows the subtle gazes of his best friend is sending you. and he knows what kind of gaze was that.

he likes her but still don't know what's that emotion is. but your relationship is like a cat and a dog. a bit kind of rocky because of the boy's often insults. and you're easy to tease, according to gojo.

"your cocky smile makes me think more." gojo raises an eyebrow at his best friend.

his best friend did nor explain nothing but chuckle. "i don't know. you tell me, satoru."

"you want to take this outside, suguru?"

"under the rain? aren't you romantic–"

"i'm gonna beat the shit out of–"

"okay. pass." shoko tells the two males and makes her way by walking in between of them coincidentally.

you muffle a chuckle under your breath because shoko looks so small when she passed between them.

you grab your bag, following shoko outside.

"sorry [name]. i have to go. yaga-sensei texted me to examine a corpse." shoko apologizes as she shows you the text. she opens her umbrella, still muttering some curses under her breathe.

"okay. bye." you wave your hand at her.

you stare ahead. it is still raining so hard. you wonder if your umbrella can take it or even survive this rain.

"why are you still here?" suguru asks as he stands on your side. satoru follows him but he decided to stand on your other side.

two tall males standing on each of your side. great. i look like a little chick in between two wolves.

"the rain's still..." you look at the rain. geto looks out, too. "ah, yeah. where's shoko? she left you here?"

"yaga-sensei asked for her and i wouldn't dare to follow her on the morgue." you tell him.

"i'm so lucky i have my infinity to protect me from this little rain." satoru scoffs and proudly presenting that his so-called infinity is so helpful at times like this which is true. must be nice.

"no need to be boastful, satoru." suguru snickers at him and then turns to look at you. "you have your umbrella with you, right?"

you nod. "yes.."

"you need any of my curse spirits?" suguru offers. you shake your head as an answer before he heads out.

unbeknown to you, he gave satoru a knowingly look to him and to you. giving satoru an immense blush.

"the mud's a bit dangerous here. so look out!" he waves his hand and you did the same gesture.

you turn to the flustered male beside you. "aren't you going? you have your infinity to protect you in the rain, after all." you state.

he clears his throat, collecting himself for a second. "what? am i not allowed to stay in here for a few minutes?" he scoffs. "besides, i sometimes get headaches when i use it.." he whispers to himself.

"you don't have any umbrella, do you?"

"why would i need it when i am satoru gojo, the holder of infinity and limitless." he boasts himself again.

you open you bag and hands him your umbrella. the blue umbrella you have right now.

he accepts it with uncertainty and he directs his attention to the blue umbrella you handed.

"what's this?" he looks at you.

"an.. umbrella?"

"i'm not stupid." he hisses. "what's this for? for me?" he scoffs. "as i said, i have my–"

you cuts him off. "yeah. your infinity. but you said it makes your head hurt, right? it's better to use it than your technique."

you feel a bit of sympathy to him. great powers always come with great pain.

he's still staring at you.

you? worried for him. worried. she's worried about me! he happily thoughts of how you're worried about him.

his heart is beating so fast that his ears are getting warm but he composes himself to answer you, in order to for you to not notice.

"but blue? you must like me that much." he grins at you, hiding the suppressed smile he's making.

"keep on dreaming, gojo."

"what about you? how are you going to go to your dorm room?"

"i'll just wait for the rain to stop.." which is not going to be as of the moment by just looking at it.

"you make me feel bad." he opens the umbrella and pulls you to his warm body.

"gojo–"

"shut up or else i'll dump you in the mud." he threatens and much to your annoyance, you hit his arm and luckily, your first landed on his dark blue uniform.

he turns off his infinity so that he can at least let the frabic of his uniform touch yours. he silently craves for your touch.

"so ungentlemanly." you comment, brushing away the thought that you can touch him.

"you wound me, sweetheart. i'm just being me."

you roll your eyes for the nth time today because of him. "so annoying."

"pipsqueak."

"freak!"

he just laughs at you and adjusted the umbrella to cover you more than him as you walk together. he can't have you getting sick, after all.

[wreckedandpolemic]

mine - matty healy

(mdni) in which your husband feels the need to remind you exactly to whom you belong. a white and gold future fic. 2713 words.

warnings: problematic age gap, daddy kink, branding, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, praise, degradation, mild cumplay, dirty sleazy possessive man

You really, truly didn’t mean to find yourself in this situation. Sometimes, you’ll admit, it’s on purpose, playing up the brattiness until Matty snaps, doling out whatever punishment he wants as you cry and promise to be good next time. This time, though, it isn’t your fault. It isn’t. You can’t help it if your husband’s business partners see his young, hot wife and decide they want you for themselves. Besides, Matty’s always telling you to be polite, so you were. Smiling, laughing at their jokes, leaning forward as you listen with interest.

It’s not your fault if some (old, stupid) man takes that as the wrong kind of interest. Matty watches as he stumbles through attempts to flirt with you, pet names tripping clumsily off his tongue. Steam practically curls off your husband, his face hardening in fury as you smile blithely, accepting the affections without encouraging anything; he doesn't take the hint. When he tucks a loose piece of hair behind your ear, trailing his hand down in a garish attempt to touch your tit, Matty catches his wrist in a punishing grip. “Keep your fucking hands off my wife, yeah? Unless you wanna get knocked the fuck out.” His usually-subtle accent bleeds over his words, roughens their edges. Everyone suddenly becomes very interested in the silverware and heat prickles under your skin as Matty’s grip tightens on your waist, possessive.

He pulls you in for a kiss, slow and deep and an obvious performance, a public message: mine. Matty stays tight with anger the whole evening, the tension in his shoulders not loosening until you’re spread out on the bed, your dress crumpled somewhere on your living room floor and your hair haloed out on the pillow as he stares down at you. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say cautiously, and his face softens.

“Oh, baby, I’m not mad at you,” he promises, climbing over you to press a gentle kiss to your lips. You accept it eagerly, the bitter taste of red wine lingering on his lips. “Just need to make sure everyone knows whose girl you are, yeah? So pretty, baby. Drives me fuckin’ crazy. You know, every single one of those men wanted to take you home. Can see it in the way they look at you.”

You flush, a note of pride creeping under your skin. “But they can’t,” you say, a slow smirk spreading across his face.

“That’s right. You’re Daddy’s girl, yeah? I’m the only one who gets to take you home, gets to see you all pretty and pleading and spread out for me, yeah? Bet they go home and dream about seeing you like this.” His nails dig into your skin as he grips your hips, snapping the elastic of your panties against your skin.

“Only you, Daddy,” you promise, and Matty presses a kiss between your tits, just over your heart. It thuds faster, calling out for his touch, a wave of love crashing over you as you sigh happily. “All yours,” you say, pouting as he climbs off you and goes to root in a dresser drawer for something.

He comes back to you with an uncapped Sharpie, grinning as you shudder. “Need to make sure everyone knows whose girl you are, yeah?” You nod shakily, Matty kneeling over you and leaning down. The scrape of the pen against your decolletage sends a shiver up your spine, something close to pain but not quite it blooming where the ink stains your skin. Concentration is evident on his face as he writes, the letters bold and clear as he moves down your body. Sitting up to admire his handiwork, Matty plucks at the strap of your bra. “Can you take this off for me, princess? Wanna see your pretty tits.” You obey thoughtlessly, arching your back to slip a hand behind you and unhook your bra, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Naked but for your panties with Matty fully clothed on top of you, you shiver, exposed. There’s something that feels right about it, though, handing Matty all the power like this, and trusting that you’ll only love what he does with it.

“What did you write, Daddy?” you ask, craning your neck to try to read, but the letters are upside down and your skin bends in a way that makes the letters illegible.

Matty pushes you back down gently. “Here, darling. Let me show you.” He slides his phone out from his back pocket and takes a couple of photos before handing it to you. Eagerly, you drink in the sight of yourself, heat in your cheeks and your lips red and kiss-bitten. Then, your eyes track across the words scrawled on your skin. Property of M. Healy. A pulse of heat throbs in your belly so thickly it almost hurts, liquid desire dripping between your legs and pooling in your underwear.

Property. You turn the word over in your mind, savouring the way it traces deliciously up your spine. Matty’s property, his kept girl, his pretty toy, his to do with whatever he wants. The thought makes your head go fuzzy, the idea of being his whenever and wherever he wants melting your insides to goo. “You own me, Daddy,” you murmur, his eyes so wide with lust that they look black.

“That’s fuckin’ right,” he breathes, stripping out of his suit and boxers, his cock thudding against his belly. Eagerly, you slide your panties down your legs and kick them to the floor, watching Matty’s eyes fall to your soaked cunt. “So wet for me, princess. Does it get you off, knowing you’re all mine?” You nod, drool pooling in your mouth  as he strokes his cock slowly. “Such a good girl. My good girl. Can see how bad you want it. Bein’ so patient, princess.”

Trembling, it’s a fight to keep still, keep your hands to yourself. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, Matty still just watching. “Please, Daddy,” you whine desperately. “Can do whatever you want to me,” you breathe, and the words finally snare him, his eyes darkening as he falls on top of you.

“Whatever I want, yeah?” he murmurs, a gush of heat flooding between your legs at his words. “C’mon, sweet girl. Legs up for me. Gonna fuckin’ ruin you,” he promises, thumbing over the bold, stark letters on your skin. He dips his head, biting a harsh bruise into your neck, one you know will be luridly purple by the next time he takes you out. You giggle as he takes a greedy handful of one of your tits, grasping possessively. “These pretty tits are mine, yeah?”

“Yours,” you whimper, the heat between your legs unbearable as Matty works his way down your body, repeating it like a litany as he grasps possessively at your skin.

“These hips.” His. “This ass.” His. “These pretty thighs.” His. “This sweet, needy little cunt.”

A strangled moan escapes you as he brushes his fingers featherlight over your clit, teasing. Desperation wells under your skin, your cunt aching with need. “S’all yours, Daddy. ‘M your property,” you moan, rolling your hips up against nothing.

“That’s right,” he grins. “Bein’ such a good girl for Daddy, princess.” A moan of pure lust spills from your lips as Matty licks a broad, flat stripe over your cunt, your hands fisting in the sheets at the wave of pleasure that cascades over you. He laps at you insistently, setting a dizzying rhythm over your swollen clit. You tremble with the effort of keeping still, letting Matty do what he wants while you take it like a good girl. “S’okay, baby. Wanna hear those pretty sounds you make, feel that sweet little cunt grinding on my face,” he murmurs, the words vibrating through your core.

Matty wraps his lips around your clit, the sensation making your body jolt as he sucks on your swollen bundle of nerves. Heat blooms under your skin as Matty tongues at you and moans into your cunt, the vibration rolling gloriously through you. He digs his fingers into your thighs, so hard that you know there’ll be bruises tomorrow, further proof he owns you. Mind-melting pleasure winds deliciously through you, Matty plunging his tongue deep inside you, devouring you from the inside out.

He refuses to fall into a rhythm, refuses to let you get complacent, switching between sucking on your clit, licking at your hole and tonguefucking you at a dizzying pace. Whining incoherently, you fist a hand in his curls and grind your hips up against his mouth. Matty’s nose bumps your clit as you writhe, legs kicking in the air. Molten pleasure melts your brain, dripping sticky from your ears and puddling on the mattress. “Are you close, sweet girl?” Matty asks, pulling away to kiss wetly at your thighs. Your hazy, addled mind struggles to latch onto his words, and you gasp as he blows cold air over your clit. “I asked you a question, princess.”

“‘M sorry, Daddy,” you whimper reflexively. “Yeah. Yeah, ‘m close,” you whine, tugging on his hair to pull him back to your cunt. Matty’s fingers join his tongue, a bolt of ecstasy striking between your legs at the scrape of his calloused fingers. He works skilfully at your clit, your legs turning to jelly as waves of pleasure pin you to the mattress. “F-fuck, Daddy, m’gonna cum, want it s’bad, please, please, please!” you cry out, babbling incoherent pleas into the air above you.

“Go on, darling. Cum for Daddy.” He pairs the words with a harsh pinch to your clit, your body wracking with shudders as you pitch over the edge. Pleasure drips stickily down your spine, your vision blurring as your orgasm crashes through you. Matty doesn’t let up, sucking insistently on your clit, your cunt still pulsing with the aftershocks.

Pleasure tinged with pain kicks under your skin, overstimulation burning between your thighs. “S’too much, Daddy, I can’t–” you whimper, his free hand pinning your hips down when you try to squirm away.

“‘Whatever you want,’ you said,” Matty reminds you, running a finger through your sensitive folds. “What I want is for you to take it like a good girl, okay?” You nod shakily, swallowing thickly around a whine. “There’s my sweet girl. Colour?”

“‘M green,” you promise, shifting your hips and moaning when Matty’s tongue finds your clit again. You choke on a gasp as he sinks two fingers into you, meeting no resistance at your soaked hole.

“Such a good girl,” Matty murmurs, kissing and biting the soft flesh of your thighs, marking you as his, the undercurrent of pain glorious weaved through the pleasure licking up your spine. He finger-fucks you hard, your cunt clenching and legs kicking in the air, a second orgasm already building at the base of your spine. “My fucking girl, yeah?” Your hand drifts unconsciously down to where his name is written just below your tits. “All those men today wanted you, princess. Wanted you so badly,” he coos, your mind staticky as his fingers thrust in and out of you at a pace that sends you reeling. “Wanted my gorgeous, sexy, irresistible, perfect fucking wife,” he groans, punctuating every adulation with a quick, deep thrust, moans spilling endlessly from your lips. 

“Can’t have me,” you slur out, your mind off-balance against Matty’s unfaltering pace.

“That’s right, princess,” he says, pride colouring his tone. “You’re mine. All mine. That’s my  ring on your finger, my name next to yours.” he growls. Maybe that’s not enough. Maybe I should take you out like this, show the whole fuckin’ world how much you love bein’ all fucked-out for me, wearin’ my name, bein’ my property.” You give a helpless, strangled moan, turned on beyond words. “God, you love that, don’t you, baby? Such a good little slut for Daddy. Do you wanna cum, angel?”

“God, yes, please, please, please!” you scream out, writhing and squirming uncontrollably as the tide of pleasure wells up inside of you, threatening to overwhelm.

Matty kisses your clit softly, your cunt fluttering around his fingers at the sensation. “God, you beg so pretty, baby. Go on, darling, cum,” he orders, and your body obeys. Your second orgasm is even more intense than the first, pure pleasure washing over you and wiping your mind clean. Your vision whites out, a scream you’re only dimly aware comes from your own throat ringing out. Euphoria burns from your core, flooding your limbs, hot and intense.

You come back to Earth to Matty’s tongue working insistent and sure over your clit, your body going boneless against the fervid pleasure winding up your spine. “Again?” you whimper.

Matty pinches your hip with his free hand. “Don’t be a brat. How many times have I told you I wanna spend all day with my tongue buried in this sweet cunt? ‘S what I want, princess, like you said. SHould be thankin’ me. Colour?”

“‘M still green, Daddy. Thank you,” you say dopily, letting your eyes slip closed as pure electricity washes over you. 

You lose count of how many times Matty makes you cum, skilled fingers and tongue sending you spiralling over and over and over again. Your body feels barely a body; ecstasy in place of organs, pleasure in place of bones. When he’s finally satisfied, pulling away with his lips and chin fucking dripping with your arousal, your cunt feels sore and swollen, and you know you won’t be walking right for weeks. He climbs over you, pulling your jaw open like you’re a fucking doll and spitting the taste of you into your mouth. You swallow instinctively, smiling up at him and showing off your clean tongue.

“Good girl,” Matty coos. “Got you trained up so good, hm? God, I fucking love you, my girl,” he groans, leaning down to kiss you so that the taste of you smears further across your tongue.

“Love you too,” you say, gazing up into his eyes, lust-darkened but still liquid with adoration. “Yours forever,” you promise, lifting your left hand so your wedding ring catches the light.

Matty kneels up to take in the sight of you, fucking wrecked for him, his eyes blowing wide at his name in stark ink on your skin. He unbuckles his belt, freeing his cock, flushed red and drooling. Two fingers swipe through your soaked cunt, and you whimper at the prospect of cumming again. “S’okay, darling, m’not gonna make you go again,” Matty promises, wrapping his wet hand around his cock. “See how hard you make me, angel?” He tips his head back with a groan, slowly pumping his cock. “All for you. M’yours.”

“Made for each other,” you say breathily, eyes glued to the point where his cock disappears into his fist.

Moaning low in his throat, Matty nods. “Made for each other,” he agrees, fucking his fist wildly. You can tell from his face, the way his motions get more erratic with every passing second, that he’s close. With a gasp of your name, he’s cumming, white ropes splashing on your belly and over your tits. His jaw goes slack as he gazes down at you, his cum splattered over the brand of his name driving him wild. “Fuck. Look so fuckin’ gorgeous, darling. God, I wanna keep you like this forever.”

You giggle. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “Can I?” he murmurs, awed.

“As many as you like, Daddy,” you smile. “I’m your property, remember? Your little slut. Your pretty cumdump.”

Matty gives a shuddering moan. “For such a princess, you’ve got a filthy fuckin’ mouth,” he chuckles, retrieving his phone from his discarded jacket. He takes at least a dozen pictures, pausing in between each to stare at you, unabashed arousal in his face.

“I learned it from you,” you smirk; you both know that isn’t true, but he likes hearing it. You drag two fingers through the mess on your stomach and suck them clean, grinning proudly up at him.

“Fuck,” Matty groans, cock twitching valiantly as he watches you. “God, drives me fuckin’ crazy when you do that. Makin’ me wanna fuck you properly, baby.”

A thrill skitters up your slime. “Please?”

[shuagirl]

TAKE IT SLOW, BABY. | L.SM

pairings. virgin!lee seokmin x soft dom fem!reader genres. smut [s] fluff [f] angst [a]

summary. it's your boyfriend's birthday and you wanted to give him a special treatment.

warnings. established relationship, unprotected sex, lots of kissing, oral sex, blowjob, very slight angst (i think?), slow pace

( marvy ) this random idea just popped up in my head after scrolling through some dk pics on pintrest (IM NOT A CREEP!!!) yeah anyways, i can't lie ran out of full plot ideas and this was so rushed but enjoy i guesssss <3

You've spent all day prepping, making sure everything's perfect. It's Seokmin's birthday, and you want to give him a night he'll never forget. The room is dim, lit only by the soft flicker of candles you've placed everywhere. Their warm glow dances on the walls, creating an intimate, romantic and magical atmosphere. The air is thick with the heady scent of vanilla and jasmine from the candles, blending with the faint smell of roses from the petals scattered across the bed.

When Seokmin walks in, he stops dead in his tracks. His eyes widen, taking in the scene. You can see the surprise and the flicker of something deeper in his eyes—desire, maybe even a bit of awe. You stand there, heart pounding, wearing that white dress that flows around you like a soft, delicate cloud.

"Happy birthday, baby," you whisper, stepping toward him. Your hands slide up his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt, and you rest them on his shoulders. You rise on your tiptoes and plant a gentle kiss on his lips.

Seokmin's heart is racing—you can feel it under your palms. He's nervous and excited. "Y/N, this is... amazing," he stammers. His fingers, trembling just a little, cup your face. He leans in, and his lips find yours again, this time with more urgency. The kiss deepens and grows more passionate. You feel his hands sliding into your hair, pulling you closer, and you respond eagerly, pressing your body against his.

The world outside fades away. It's just the two of you now, wrapped in this moment. Your fingers trace patterns on his back, feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric of his shirt. The warmth of his body against yours, the taste of his lips, and the intoxicating scent of his skin combine into a heady rush that makes your pulse quicken.

You pull away just enough to tug at his shirt, lifting it over his head. He helps by raising his arms, and then your hands are on his bare chest, exploring his muscles' smooth, firm planes. You kiss his neck, feel the shiver running through him, and smile against his skin.

His breath hitches when your lips move lower, trailing kisses down his collarbone. He wants you—God, you can feel how much he wants you. But you recognise hesitation, too, a tension in his muscles. Whenever things get heated, he always finds a way to stop, to pull back. You know it's not because he doesn't want you. It's something else, something he's never reasonably said.

Tonight, though, you're determined. You guide him towards the bed, gently pushing him down. You climb onto his lap, feeling the hardness of his desire pressing against you. He freezes, his eyes wide, a mixture of lust and fear in them.

"Seokmin, what's wrong?" you ask softly, searching his face.

He hesitates, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I... I have to tell you something," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm a virgin."

You pause, taken aback for a moment. But then you see the vulnerability in his eyes, and your heart melts. You cup his face in your hands, looking into his eyes with all your love for him. "Oh, baby, you don't have to be embarrassed. I'm sorry if I made you feel pressured," you say, your voice filled with concern and affection.

He shakes his head, a small, shy smile on his lips. "No, it's not that. I just... I didn't want to disappoint you," he admits, his voice cracking with vulnerability.

You lean in and kiss him, slow and lingering. "You could never disappoint me, Seokmin. We can go as slow as you want," you murmur against his lips.

He looks at you, and something in his eyes changes. There's a newfound courage there, a determination. "But tonight, I want you. I need you," he whispers back, his voice filled with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.

You smile, relieved and excited. "Me too," you breathe, diving back into the kiss, your hands roaming over his body with deliberate slowness that drives you both wild.

The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more fervent. You guide him to lie back on the bed, your lips never leaving his as you start to undress him. The feel of his skin under your fingers sends shivers down your spine, and you can't help the low moan that escapes your lips when you kiss down his neck, your tongue tracing a hot, wet path to his collarbone.

When he's finally naked beneath you, you take a moment to drink in the sight of him—flushed and trembling with anticipation. You kiss your way down his chest, your lips and tongue teasing every inch of his skin until you reach his hips.

You look up at him, your eyes filled with adoration and desire. You can see the tension in his body, the way his muscles tighten with anticipation and a hint of nervousness. You want to make this moment as special and comfortable for him as possible.

With a reassuring smile, you kiss the inside of his thigh, your breath warm against his skin. Seokmin's breath hitches, and he lets out a soft moan as you continue to plant gentle, lingering kisses along his thigh. You can feel his body relax slightly, his fingers gripping the sheets as he surrenders to the sensation.

You take your time, your kisses slow and deliberate, your tongue tracing delicate patterns on his skin. You move closer to his centre, your mouth hovering above him, your breath warm and teasing. Seokmin's eyes are closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to maintain control.

"Y/N," he breathes, his voice filled with longing and uncertainty.

You look up at him, your eyes filled with tenderness. "It's okay, baby," you whisper. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

With that, you take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around him in a soft, warm embrace. Seokmin lets out a deep, shuddering moan, his hips bucking involuntarily. The sensation is overwhelming, and he can't hold back the sounds of pleasure that escape his lips.

You work him with a slow, deliberate rhythm, your tongue swirling around him, exploring every inch. You can feel him trembling beneath you, his body responding to your touch in ways that make your heart race. You take him deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you create a gentle suction, your hand wrapped around the base to provide additional stimulation.

Seokmin's fingers tangle in your hair, his grip tight but not forceful. He's lost in the pleasure, his mind a whirlwind of sensation and emotion. Every touch, every movement of your mouth sends waves of ecstasy coursing through his body.

You continue your ministrations, your pace steady and unhurried. You want to draw out the pleasure, to make this experience as intense and enjoyable for him as possible. You can feel him getting closer, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, his moans growing louder and more desperate.

"Y/N, I'm—" he begins, his voice strained.

You don't stop, and your movements become more fervent and insistent. You want to take him all the way, to show him just how much you love him, how much you want to please him. With one final, deep suck, you feel him tense beneath you, his body shuddering as he reaches his climax.

Seokmin cries out your name, his hips bucking as he releases into your mouth. You take it all, your tongue and lips milking every drop, your hands soothingly caressing his thighs as he rides out the waves of pleasure. When he finally relaxes, you pull back, a satisfied smile on your lips as you look up at him.

He's breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he struggles to catch his breath. His eyes are half-lidded, a dazed, blissful expression on his face. You crawl up his body, your hands and lips trailing soft touches and kisses as you make your way back to his lips.

You kiss him deeply, allowing him to taste himself on your lips. Seokmin responds eagerly, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. The moment's intensity, the raw physical and emotional connection, leaves you both trembling with desire.

"Y/N," he whispers against your lips, his voice filled with awe and gratitude. "That was... incredible."

You smile, your heart swelling with love for him. "There's more, Seokmin," you murmur, your eyes dark with desire. "If you want."

He nods, his hands sliding down your back to grip your hips. "I want you, Y/N. I need you," he says, his voice filled with conviction.

You move to straddle him, positioning yourself just above his now-hard-again member. You take a moment to look into his eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation. All you see is love and desire, making your heart race.

"We'll go slow," you promise, your voice soft and soothing. "We'll take it slow, baby."

Seokmin nods, his hands resting on your hips, his fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. You guide him to your entrance, lowering yourself slowly, inch by inch, until he's entirely inside you. You both gasp at the sensation, your bodies perfectly aligned, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.

Guide him to your entrance, lowering yourself slowly, inch by inch, until he's entirely inside you. You both gasp at the sensation, your bodies perfectly aligned, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.

The feeling is intense, a delicious mix of pleasure and slight discomfort. You take a moment to breathe, to adjust to the incredible sensation of having him fill you so completely. His eyes are wide, his lips parted as he gazes up at you with a blend of awe and desire. You can feel his heartbeat racing against your skin, matching the wild thrum of your own.

"Are you okay?" you whisper, your voice calm and tender.

He nods, swallowing hard. "Yeah," he breathes, his hands tightening on your hips. "You feel... so good."

You smile down at him, your heart swelling with love. "So do you, Seokmin. So do you."

You start to move slowly at first, rocking your hips in a gentle rhythm. The friction is electric, sending jolts of pleasure through your body with every movement. Seokmin's hands slide up your sides, exploring the curves of your body with reverence. His touch is warm, grounding you in the moment.

"God, Y/N," he groans, his head falling back against the pillows. "This feels... amazing."

You can't help but smile at his reaction, the pure, unfiltered joy in his voice. You increase your pace slightly, finding a rhythm that makes your breath catch and your heart race. The room is filled with the soft sounds of your bodies moving together, the mingling of your breaths, the occasional gasp or moan of pleasure.

Seokmin's hands find your breasts, his fingers brushing over your nipples, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. You arch into his touch, encouraging him. He takes your nipple between his fingers, rolling it gently, and you gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily.

"Yes, Seokmin," you moan, your voice trembling with pleasure. "Just like that."

He watches you with wide, dark eyes, his lips parted, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The sight of him, so overwhelmed with desire, so open and vulnerable, sends a fresh wave of arousal through you. You lean down to kiss him, your tongue tracing the seam of his lips, tasting the sweetness of his mouth.

His hands slide down to your hips, guiding your movements, his grip firm but gentle. You move together, finding a rhythm that feels right, that brings you both closer to the edge. The sensation of him inside you, the way he fills you completely, the way his body responds to yours, is almost too much to bear.

"Seokmin," you gasp, your voice catching as a particularly intense wave of pleasure washes over you. "I can't... I can't hold on much longer."

"Me neither," he groans, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. "Y/N, I—"

You both lose yourselves in the moment, the world narrowing to just the two of you, the heat of your bodies, the mingling of your breaths, the heady scent of desire that fills the air. Every touch and movement is filled with love, passion, and a deep, undeniable connection.

You can feel the tension building inside you, a tight coil of pleasure that threatens to snap at any moment. Your movements become more urgent, more desperate as you chase that elusive climax, your body trembling with the effort.

"Seokmin," you moan, your voice breaking with the intensity of your need. "I'm so close."

"Me too," he gasps, his fingers digging into your hips, his eyes wide and dark with desire.

With a final, urgent thrust, you feel the coil of pleasure inside you snap, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of intense, overwhelming sensation. You cry out, your body shaking with the force of your release, your mind going blank with the sheer intensity of it.

Seokmin follows you over the edge, his own climax tearing through him with a force that leaves him breathless. He moans your name, his hands gripping you tightly as he spills inside you, his body shuddering with the intensity of his pleasure.

For a moment, you both lie there, tangled together, your bodies trembling, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. The world slowly comes back into focus, and you realise that you're still holding each other, your bodies still connected, the aftershocks of your orgasms still pulsing through you.

You smile, your heart swelling with love and gratitude for this incredible, beautiful man. "Thank you, Seokmin," you whisper, kissing his lips softly. "That was... amazing."

He smiles back at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "No, thank you, Y/N," he murmurs, his fingers gently stroking your hair. "You made this the best birthday I've ever had."

You laugh softly, your heart full. "Happy birthday, Seokmin," you say, your voice tender. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replies, his voice filled with emotion. "More than anything."

You stay like that for a while, just holding each other, savouring the warmth and intimacy of the moment. The candles flicker softly, casting a golden glow over the room, and the scent of vanilla and jasmine lingers in the air, creating a cocoon of love and tenderness around you.

Eventually, you roll off of him, lying by his side, your bodies still touching, still connected. You trace lazy patterns on his chest with your fingers, your touch light and soothing.

"Do you feel okay?" you ask quietly, looking up at him with concern.

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "I feel amazing," he says. "I was nervous, but you made it... perfect. Thank you for being so patient with me."

"Always," you reply, kissing him softly. "I love you, Seokmin. There's no rush. We have all the time in the world."

He holds you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "I love you too, Y/N," he murmurs. "Thank you for tonight. Thank you for everything."

You fall asleep in each other's arms, your bodies warm and tangled, your hearts full. The night had been a beautiful blend of passion and tenderness, a perfect beginning to a new chapter in your relationship.

SHUAGIRL © 2024. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.

[xothatnerdykid]

say yes to heaven (say yes to me)

Aizawa finds out you have a crush on him. Fluffy, slightly suggestive Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead x reader drabble. Slight age gap, teaching assistant!reader. 1,937 words.

"You know Y/N has a crush on you, right?"

You nearly choke at that, freezing up against the wall. You had been taking a phone call outside the faculty lounge when you overheard Yamada and Aizawa make their way inside, oblivious to your presence. 

"I thought I told you to drop it already, Hizashi," Aizawa grunts.

"Wait, you know?" A third voice, Nemuri, asks incredulously, followed by a noise that sounds suspiciously like Aizawa elbowing Yamada mid-laugh.

You feel your face heat up, mortified at their discussion. Of course Aizawa knew you had feelings for him, you all but slap yourself. How could he not when you clam up and turn into a stuttering mess whenever he’s around? 

You're well aware that plenty of the girls of Class 1-A (and even 1-B) harbor a not-so-secret crush on their sensei, and you're embarrassed to admit that you're not much better. You're always suddenly breathless and flustered to be near him.

Always a little too eager to help during training or classes. Always tripping over your words whenever he spoke to you. He must have tried to brush it off at first, but it just kept happening too many times for him to ignore.

"The only thing I know," Aizawa answers gruffly, "Is that this conversation is bordering on entirely inappropriate."

"What? Why? It's not like she's a student here or anything," Yamada retorts.

"She was, just a few years ago."

"Yeah, and now she's my teaching assistant," Nemuri counters.

But you can practically see Aizawa shake his head. "See? Same difference."

"Oh, lighten up! So you have a bit of an age gap—"

"I wouldn't call 8 years a bit of an age gap, Hizashi."

"Who cares about that? I think she could make you happy, Shouta, and you deserve to be happy."

“Now that I think about it," Nemuri adds. "You two would be good together. You need someone who can make you smile and stop being so serious all the time, and she..." She chuckles playfully. "For some unexpected reason, really likes that about you."

"Don't tell me you haven't at least thought about it?" Yamada teases. “I see the way you look at her, too, you know."

Nemuri squeals, "Just imagine, the two of you being all lovey-dovey. It'd be so cute!"

Your heart catches in your throat, but Aizawa is quick to interject.

"It doesn't matter. None of those things you said matter. To do anything about Y/N's feelings for me would be taking advantage of her."

"Fine," Nemuri huffs. "But the least you can do is talk to the poor girl about it. You can't keep giving her the cold shoulder forever."

There's a beat of silence before Aizawa dejectedly responds, "You’re right.” And you hear the door knob lock behind them.

______________________________________________________________

You pretend not to notice that Aizawa's awkwardly been standing behind you for almost five minutes now, hoping he'd eventually leave if you looked busy enough typing away on your laptop.

And he almost does, if it wasn't for Midnight and Mic, who you can see out of the corner of your eye, gesturing at him quietly but frantically to go on. 

Your heart races when he clears his throat. "Uh, Y/N, do you have a minute?"

"Um..." You want to say no but can't think of a reason fast enough, so you take your time closing your laptop instead, bracing yourself. "Sure."

You get up from your seat and turn to face him, but neither of you can meet the other's gaze, which just makes everything feel all the more mortifying. 

"I'm aware of...Er, I mean...I apologize if I've seemed a little standoffish lately."

"You mean more than usual?" You smile weakly, trying for a bit of humor.

When you look up, you're surprised to see that his expression is serious but gentle. He almost smiles for a second before he seems to think better of it.

"It's been brought to my attention that you might…” He sighs, then starts over. “If I’ve ever given you the wrong impression, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention. I want you to know that I respect your feelings, but I think it’s best that we maintain a professional relationship."

“Of course! I-I never–You never–Um–" You swallow thickly, feeling your face burn up. “I agree.”

“Good. I hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us.”

Like it could get any worse? You bite back the retort.

You take a deep breath, attempting to regain your composure, and plaster on another half-hearted smile. “It’s fine. We can move past it.”

He nods, his expression neutral. “Glad to hear that.”

_________________________________________________________________________

But you do not, in fact, move past it. At least not for a couple of weeks. 

In the days that follow, you find that you can't shake off the conversation, the way he looked and the vulnerability in his voice lingering in your mind. The hours at work feel longer now that they're filled with lingering silence, heavy with unspoken words and punctuated with stilted conversations.

Even more embarrassing is the fact that everyone seems to know about your unrequited and inappropriate crush now, if they didn’t already. You notice Mic and Midnight's sympathetic glances, and All-Might's whispered concerns.

Their attempts to act normal around you are agonizingly obvious, so you make it a habit to be the first one to leave every afternoon and spend most of your days alone at your table, with your eyes glued to your laptop screen or your nose buried in a mountain of paperwork. 

So how, exactly, did you find yourself in this position? Alone with Shouta in his apartment and sitting in his lap with your fingers tangled in his hair and his tongue practically down your throat?

_________________________________________________________________________

Last thing you remembered, you were walking home when he suddenly fell into step beside you.

"Hi," you managed, giving him a weak smile. It must've been the first time you've ever been alone together since the talk. 

"Mind if I join you?" He tilted his head to ask, his hands in his pockets and looking as tired as ever. 

"Not at all," You tried to reply coolly, even though your heart just about dropped to the floor.

A familiar awkward silence fell upon both of you.

You bunched up your skirt in your fists, acutely aware of the way he’s looking at you. His usually stern face seemed almost…unsure. Finally, he broke the silence. "How have you been?”

“Oh, you know…” You waved your hand dismissively. “Just trying to get through each day.”

He nodded solemnly. “Listen, y/n, I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings last time we talked, because that’s the last thing I’d want.”

You shook your head. "No, not at all. If anything, I should be the one apologizing for the position I put you in."

"I just want you to know that...It's not that I don't..." He trailed off meaningfully, his eyes downcast. "I just don't think it would be appropriate or fair to you to pursue anything because...Your feelings for me…they’re not real.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “What?” 

"I understand that you might be confused by...that the dynamics of our relationship might have clouded your judgement and made me seem…”

“Stop.” You level him with a fierce gaze and he does. You do your best to sound firm despite the sting of his words. “It’s one thing for you not to return my feelings. That I can understand. But don’t patronize me by telling me what I do or don’t feel. It’s clear that you think otherwise, but I’m not a child, Shouta.”

Aizawa, surprised by the intensity in your voice, leaned back slightly. He doesn't say anything, which gives you the courage to speak your mind, telling him off before you can think better of it.

“I don’t like you just because you’re older than me or I see you as some sort of authority figure. I like you because you care a lot but pretend you don’t. And it makes me want to get to know you more. I admire your dedication and hard work at being a hero and a teacher here.”

He looked at you thoughtfully for a few moments, then nodded, a flicker of realization crossing his features as he absorbed your words. “You're right. I shouldn't have assumed or tried to define your feelings for you. I apologize."

"Thank you."

"And as long as we’re sharing…” He rolled his sleeves up, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “I don’t think you’re a child, you know. I think you’re intelligent and perfectly competent. In fact, I think you're amazing."

The irritation and hurt you felt just moments ago was quickly chased away by the warmth that spread within you at his surprising admission.

He brushed his hair out of his eyes. "I was hesitant because I didn't want to take advantage of you, given our age gap—"

"It doesn't bother me," you said with newfound confidence, and he couldn't help but chuckle at your boldness.

"But maybe... I've been too cautious."

You tilted your head, smiling up at him softly, sweetly, like you used to. "What do you mean?" You asked even though you already knew, you just wanted to hear him say it.

He ran a hand through his hair again, rubbing the back of his neck. A nervous habit, you’ve noticed. "I mean, perhaps I've been so focused on maintaining professional boundaries that it's made me overlook the possibility of a genuine connection between us."

You bit the inside of your cheeks to keep from smiling any wider. "Are you saying...?"

He nodded, a hint of a blush tinting his face. "Would you consider having dinner with me tomorrow?"

_________________________________________________________________________

Fast forward to now, hours after dinner and one glass of wine too many, and you’ve somehow managed to muster up the courage to kiss him good night.

It catches him by surprise, but once he leans into it, he doesn’t let you pull away. He responds with an almost bruising eagerness, kissing you again, and again, and again, until you find yourself pressed up against the door of his apartment.

He jams his keys into the doorknob, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

But instead of swinging the door open like you expected, he puts his hand up against it instead, next to your face, and presses his forehead against yours.

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” he says breathlessly, his eyes screwed shut.

You draw a steadying breath of your own. “Why not?”

“Because,” he drawls in that frustratingly raspy voice of his. The one so low and deep you could practically feel it vibrating against your own chest, echoing off the walls inside of you. “You do something to me…to my self-control…”

You swallow thickly. “Do I?”

He nods.

“Good.” You link your hands around his nape, pulling at some of the hair there, and smile against the crook of his neck. “Then the feeling’s mutual.”

He puts his hands on your waist, gingerly, cautiously. “Doesn’t make it rational.”

You kiss his jaw. ”Why does it need to be rational?” And then his cheek. ”We’re both adults.” And then gently bite his ear, whispering, “Why can’t we let ourselves want what we want?” 

“And are you sure…” He pulls away a little, his eyes still closed and his eyebrows furrowed. “This is what you want?” He finally opens his eyes to search yours, and his are so smoky and dark you feel as though you're falling through the night sky.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, captivated by the intensity in his gaze.

"Yeah," you answer, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. "I'm sure."

His smirk is the last thing you see before your eyelids flutter close and his lips are on yours again. 

He doesn’t waste another moment.

[talkdutchtome]

Glitch- chapter nine

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . endlessly sorry for how long its been, but i'm back now and we're straight back into tooth rotting fluff <3 )

The dull and familiar sound of the iphone ringtone pulled Y/N abruptly from her nap, she groggily reached for device that woke her so rudely, blinking away the remnants of sleep as she saw Reece's name on the caller ID. 

"Hey, Reece. What's up?" she mumbled, still half-asleep. 

"Hi, Y/N," came Reece's voice, surprisingly serious. "Did you seriously go to Monaco? With Max?" 

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. "Um, yeah," she admitted, unsure where this line of questioning was leading. 

"Are we, like, real friends now? Not just, like, mutual friends through Mason?" Reece's question was direct, leaving no room for evasion. The haziness of her nap now long forgotten.  

Y/N hesitated, caught off guard by the abruptness of the inquiry. "I... I guess so," she replied tentatively. 

Reece didn't mince his words in response. "Does Max know that you and Mason slept together?" 

Y/N could literally feel her heart sink. She wasn't prepared for this confrontation, especially not with Reece, she didn’t even know how he knew about that. 

"I, uh... I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, attempting to deflect. 

"Cut the bullshit, Y/N," Reece snapped, his usually easygoing demeanor replaced by an uncharacteristic sharpness. 

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. She'd never heard Reece speak like this before, and it rattled her.  

"Okay, fine," she relented, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, he knows. He came to visit me that night and he could tell something was up and sussed it out, and we decided I should come to Monaco to give... whatever we have a chance. Away from M- away from distractions." 

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line, and Y/N braced herself for Reece's response. She couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability, exposed by Reece's penetrating questions. 

Finally, Reece spoke, his tone softer now. "I understand, Y/N. I hope you figure out what you want." 

As Y/N ended the call, she took a moment to collect herself, the weight of Reece's words settling over her like a heavy blanket. She knew she couldn't evade the consequences of her choices, no matter how much she wished she could. 

The soft knock on the door stirred Y/N from her reverie, and she quickly composed herself before answering. As Max entered, his concern was evident in the furrow of his brow and the gentle tone of his voice. 

"Hey, Y/N. How'd you sleep? Is the room okay for you?" Max inquired, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of distress. 

Y/N managed a small smile, grateful for his consideration. "I slept fine, thank you. And the room is lovely, really," she replied, her voice soft but genuine. 

Max nodded, seemingly satisfied with her response. "Good to hear. So, who were you talking to on the phone earlier?" he asked casually, his curiosity piqued. 

Y/N hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to reveal. "Oh, just Reece," she replied, hoping to brush off the conversation. 

Max arched an eyebrow, sensing her reluctance to elaborate. "What did he want?" he pressed gently, his gaze unwavering. 

Y/N swallowed hard, knowing she couldn't avoid the truth. "He... he was asking if it was true that I came here," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Max's expression softened at her words, a flicker of understanding passing between them. "Oh, how did he know that?" he inquired, his tone gentle but probing. 

Y/N closed her eyes briefly, steeling herself for the admission. "Mason," she murmured, the name heavy with unspoken implications. 

The mention of Mason hung in the air like an unwelcome guest, casting a shadow over the room and injecting a palpable tension into the atmosphere. Y/N felt a knot form in her stomach at the mere sound of his name, a stark reminder of the complicated dynamics that had brought her here. 

For Max, the mention of Mason was like stumbling upon a hidden obstacle in an otherwise smooth path. He couldn't ignore the sudden shift in Y/N's demeanor, the subtle tensing of her shoulders and the guarded look in her eyes. It was a reminder of the delicate balance they were navigating, with Mason's presence looming large over their fledgling connection. 

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions, each of them grappling with their own inner turmoil. Y/N struggled to reconcile her lingering feelings for Mason with the growing attraction she felt for Max, while Max found himself grappling with a sense of unease at the thought of his newfound connection being overshadowed by a past that seemed determined to intrude. 

Max sensed the discomfort radiating from Y/N like a tangible force, and he knew he had to act quickly to alleviate the awkwardness that had settled between them like a heavy shroud. With a subtle shift in his demeanor, he gently changed the subject, his voice carrying a note of reassurance as he reminded her of their upcoming dinner reservations. 

"Hey, um, so, about dinner," he began, his tone light and casual, "We've got reservations in about an hour. Thought we could grab a bite to eat and maybe explore the area a bit afterward. What do you think?" 

His words hung in the air, a lifeline tossed amidst the turbulent sea of emotions that threatened to engulf them. Max watched as Y/N's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of relief crossing her features at the prospect of shifting their focus away from the uncomfortable topic at hand. 

"Yeah, that sounds good," she replied, the tension in her voice easing as she welcomed the distraction Max offered. "I could use a nice meal right about now." 

Max offered her a warm smile, his eyes reflecting a silent understanding as he nodded in agreement. "Great. I'll let you get ready then. Just give me a shout when you're good to go, yeah?" 

Y/N nodded in response, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she watched Max make his way to the door. As he stepped out into the hallway, she couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his intuitive nature, for his ability to sense her discomfort and offer her a much-needed reprieve. 

As they drove to the restaurant, Y/N couldn't help but feel a twinge of intimidation as she took in the sleek interior of Max's car, a luxurious vehicle that spoke volumes about the extravagant lifestyle he led. She couldn't help but wonder what it must be like to live in a world filled with such opulence and grandeur, feeling a bit out of place amidst its lavishness. 

Upon arriving at the restaurant, however, her apprehension began to dissipate as she noticed the quaint charm of the place. It was a cozy little spot, far from the flashy extravagance she had expected, and she found herself feeling more at ease as they entered. 

They were greeted by a sweet, elderly couple who seemed to know Max well, exchanging warm greetings and friendly banter as if he were an old friend. Y/N couldn't help but smile at the genuine affection they showed him, feeling a sense of warmth wash over her as they complimented her appearance. 

"Max, my boy, you've outdone yourself this time! Who's this lovely lady you've brought with you?" the elderly gentleman chuckled, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he teased Max. 

Max chuckled sheepishly, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush as he introduced Y/N to the couple. "This is Y/N, and she's far too good for the likes of me," he joked, though there was a sincerity in his voice that made Y/N's heart skip a beat. 

As they were led to their table, she couldn't help but notice the remnants of a slight blush on Max's cheeks, a sight that caused her heart to flutter with an unexpected surge of affection. Sitting across from him, she found herself captivated by the way his eyes sparkled with a hint of excitement, his smile lighting up the room as they settled in for their meal. 

During dinner, Max and Y/N found themselves immersed in a discussion about their respective childhoods, sharing stories and anecdotes that offered glimpses into their pasts. 

"So, Y/N, tell me about your family," Max prompted, his curiosity piqued as he leaned forward, eager to learn more about her background. 

Y/N's eyes sparkled with fond memories as she began to speak. "Well, I come from a big family," she started, a warm smile gracing her lips. "I have three siblings – two sisters and a brother – and we're all really close. Growing up, our house was always bustling with activity, and there was never a dull moment." 

Max listened intently, captivated by her description of a lively household filled with love and laughter. "That sounds wonderful," he remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice. "What was it like being the oldest?" 

Y/N chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "It definitely had its challenges," she admitted, "but it also taught me responsibility and the importance of looking out for others. I always felt like I had to set a good example for my siblings, and that's something that's stuck with me throughout my life." 

As their conversation continued, Y/N turned the spotlight on Max, asking him about his own family and upbringing. Max shared stories of his childhood, delving into what it was like to grow up in a very driven household, where he spent so much of his time as a kid karting and preparing for a career in Formula One.  

After their delightful dinner, Max suggested they visit Le Rocher, a spot where they could admire the breathtaking views of Monaco's old town. As they strolled along, Y/N couldn't help but be mesmerized by the picturesque scenery unfolding before her. 

"It's stunning," she breathed, her eyes sweeping over the panoramic vista. 

Max nodded in agreement, a soft smile playing on his lips. "This is one of my favorite places to come when I need a break from the racing world," he confessed. "Here, I can just be Max." 

Y/N listened, soaking in the tranquility of the moment as they shared a quiet conversation, the gentle evening breeze carrying their words away into the night. 

As they reached a particularly scenic spot, Max mentioned Daniel's persistent encouragement to start a jpeg Instagram account like his. "He's always on my case about it," Max chuckled, turning to face Y/N. "But I've been thinking... what do you say we do a little impromptu photoshoot?" 

Y/N's initial hesitation melted away at the sight of Max's infectious enthusiasm. "Sure, why not?" she replied with a grin. 

With Max behind the camera, they embarked on a playful photoshoot, capturing candid moments and genuine smiles against the backdrop of Monaco's twinkling lights. As they laughed and joked together, time seemed to stand still, and Y/N found herself immersed in the simple joy of being in Max's company. 

As the night wore on and the early hours of the morning approached, they reluctantly called an end to their impromptu adventure. But as they made their way back to Max's apartment, the memory of their laughter lingered, a testament to the undeniable connection they shared. And as they bid each other goodnight, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, in each other, they had found something truly special. 

Throughout the week in Monaco, Max and Y/N embarked on a series of adventures that seemed to draw them closer with each passing day. Max took her out on a yacht ride, where they basked in the warmth of the Mediterranean sun and marveled at the azure waters surrounding them. They went swimming and jet skiing, reveling in the exhilaration of the open sea. 

One evening, Max surprised Y/N by cooking dinner for her, showcasing his culinary skills with a delicious meal prepared with care. As they dined together, sharing stories and laughter, it felt like they were in their own little world, untouched by the complexities of reality. 

With each passing moment, the bond between them deepened, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging whenever she was with Max. In his company, she felt understood and cherished, as if being around each other was something that was meant to be. 

Despite the idyllic moments they shared, Y/N couldn't shake the lingering thoughts of Mason and the tangled web of emotions that still tied her to him. But in the midst of their blissful escapades, she found solace in the simple joy of being with Max, relishing the moments they spent together and cherishing the connection they shared. 

As race week descended upon Monaco, the tranquil days spent with Max swiftly transformed into a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation. Y/N marveled at the seamless transition as Max shifted gears from the laid-back companion of the past week to the determined machine ready to conquer the race track. 

She observed Max navigate through a flurry of press events with effortless charm, amazed at how the sweet man she had grown fond of could seamlessly transform into a focused and driven athlete once he stepped into his race car. 

During practice sessions, Y/N stood in Max's garage, taking in the electrifying atmosphere as mechanics buzzed around, fine-tuning the car to perfection. She engaged in conversation with others in the garage, soaking in the insider's view of the Formula One world. 

When it was time for qualifying, Y/N found herself watching alongside Heidi, Daniel's girlfriend, forming a quick rapport with her as they cheered on their respective partners. The tension mounted as Max pushed the limits, eventually securing pole position in a stunning display of skill and determination. 

As Max emerged from the garage, triumphant and exhilarated, he sought out Y/N amidst the jubilant crowd. To her surprise, he pulled her into a spontaneous embrace, planting a kiss on her lips that left her head spinning. Caught off guard by the unexpected display of affection, Y/N could only watch as the cameras flashed around them, capturing the moment for the world to see. 

As Max hurried off to attend to his press obligations, Y/N remained in a daze, still reeling from the unexpected kiss and the flurry of attention that followed. Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed the bustling activity around her until her phone suddenly rang, jolting her back to reality. 

Glancing at the caller ID, she was immediately brought back down to earth. She could feel sick rise up to her throat, she found herself wanting the ground to come up and swallow her whole.  

Her phone remained ringing, a picture of her and her best friend filling the screen with the one name she didn’t want to see right now. Mason.  

Tag list- (send me a inbox if you want to be removed or added <3)

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[lussiane333]

Any random nsfw headcanons of art the clown?

Yes!!

Art the Clown headcanons

Art is fucked up and a sadist, you're in for something 👀

Well you gotta admit that he has his creative side :D

Broken glass everywhere? Your cutlery is gone and you can't find some other things? He is crafting!

Gift giver.

Expect him to give you a beautiful ring! On a chopped off hand..

He would make something for you too.

A crooked paper flower a with blood on it! How beautiful!

What do you mean you don't think it will look good on the kitchen table???

He doesn't care. It will be there.

This mf LOVES blood!

Oh you're on your period? He knows. He can somehow literally smell it.

No, he won't leave you alone on your period, but he will be more gentle with you.

Still fucks you every day.. He loves the sight of his bloody cock between your thighs.

He would eat you out too. No discussion needed.

Licks and kisses all over your body.

Your home will turn into a slaughterhouse with him living with you.

I just know he would make someone watch you two fucking.

Mr. is a showman!

He is obsessed with you and wants to protect you.

Just imagine you had a really bad day.. And someone at work made it even worse.

They could have insulted you or did everything possible to make your day harder.

Yeah, think twice before mentioning it to Art. He will bring you the person's heart and tongue in a box. Oh, and you're keeping it!

Don't even ask how he found that person, Mr. Clown has his ways.

Stalking you is his hobby.

You're doing groceries, thinking what will you make for dinner, you turn your head to the window and of course, Art. Grinning and waving at you.

Alright he is a big weirdo, but with his S/O? I mean he loves you!

In his own way...

But you're HIS treasure so, expect some nice moments too.

Art coming home to you.. All bloody, angry, annoyed.

He's not even grinning like he usually does it's just.. Blank, emotionless face.

He walks into the living room and just stands there, waiting for you to notice him.

When you do he's still not grinning, just looking at you. He doesn't even register you talking to him.

His mind is off, empty at the moment.

He walks over to you, pushes you down onto the couch and lays on top you.

Well that's how you'll be for good 2 hours.

His head in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, not moving at all.

It calms him down.

And you better scratch his back and whisper things to him or he won't leave you alone all day.

We all know what's going to happen later..

Slow grinding against you.. his hot breath on your neck.. and as you wrap your legs around him, he's already ripping everything off you.

He is quiet through it all, but his faces are the real voice here.

He prefers to be the one in control, always.

Even if you ride him, you ride him his way.

As I mentioned, he's quiet but if you watch closely you'll see his stomach trembling when he's cumming.

You know what they say, save a carousel horse, ride a clown instead ;)

[romeavecryst]

˖ ࣪⊹ Just a bit younger

T.Kageyama x older!blk!femreader˖ ࣪⊹

Sum: While in Tokyo for summer break Tobio gets to practice Vollyball but also see his long distance girlfriend, what a surprise to the team to find out she’s older, and their rival teams manager.

Warnings: not proofread, fluff, flirty, maybe suggestive? cursing,

.˚₊‧ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ‧₊˚.

As soon as the team found out their bossy setter had a girlfriend they wouldn’t stop bothering Kageyama, pestering him with questions. As irritating as it was he kept to himself giving the simple answer that she doesn't go to school with them.

“Common I bet you're bummed out you can see your girlfriend huh?” Tanaka teased, earning a glare from the first year.

“Yeah, plus she's gotta be drop-dead gorgeous if you still won't show us a picture.” Nishinoya gawked.

“Or she doesn't exist.” Tsukishima scoffed.

“Well, she does exist and I don't have to prove anything maybe you all will get to meet her while we're in Tokyo,” Kageyama spoke his tone sharp.

“I agree with Tsukishima there's no way an actual pretty girl would date you.” Hinata crossed his arms only to get pushed out if his seat by Kageyama.

That was the whole bus ride, especially after He mentioned she lived in Tokyo. Some of them didn't believe she was real or tried describing her only to fail terribly in describing her appearance. Kageyama of course had bragged about her because he knew she was gorgeous, smart, and funny, even though he would never admit it to her.

The bus had finally arrived at the gym the boys came off the bus only to be greeted by Nekoma. “Took you guys long enough to get here,” Kuroo spoke His arms crossed against his chest.

It didn't take long for Kageyama to find her eyes, hers already looking and him her glossed lips curved into a smile that made his heart flutter his face flushing red quickly adverting his eyes.

“This is our Manager L/n Y/n,” Kuroo introduced her, “she wasn’t with us last time we saw you.” He laughed.

“It’s nice to meet you all.” She spoke offering a sweet smile.

It’s didn’t take long for Noya and Tanaka boy start gawking leaving her to roll her eyes at them, but then she turned to him. “It’s good to see you again baby.” She smiled at tobio.

“Wait, SHES YOUR GIRLFRIEND.” Nishinoya yelled.

“No Fucking way!” Tanaka and Tsukishima said together.

Tobio didn’t say anything his face just beat red as she laughed at his teams reaction, though her team was no different.

“Wow didn’t tell them about me?” She teased now standing in front of him her hand moving his face to look at her.

“I- I did tell them just didn’t show them pictures or anything like that!” he spoke his hand holding her wrist lightly.

She laughed once more, and an embarrassed Kageyama let his head fall onto her shoulder. “I didn't want them gawking over you,” he whispered his voice filled with jealousy.

Her nails trailed the back of his neck soon creating in his hair, her touch making him shiver softly. He missed her, missed her gentle touch and intoxicating laugh, the way she smelled. Everything, as embarrassed as he may get he couldn't care less right now, His face in the nape of her neck.

“I missed you..”

She moved his head up “I missed you to love,” he likes meeting his cheek.

It didn't take long for the moment to be ruined “You're dating a first-year.” Yamamoto spoke.

She turned around “Yeah? What about it weren't you Messing around with a first year?”

“Thats different.”

“It's not.” Kuroo and her said in unison.

The rest of the night went on as planned, everyone settled in their rooms, the coaches setting rules, and now everyone was at dinner. Tobio teams non-stop talking about himself and his girlfriend, they definitely weren't expecting her to be older mind you, of color. They just didn't see him as the type, but he was.

At the dining hall, he didn't see her sitting with the rest of the managers, so with his tray, he began to walk out the doors, and there she was filling up water bottles. “How come you aren't eating?” his voice obviously startling her.

“Oh, um i just over heard some guys were gonna practice in the gym after dinner so filling bottles uo before then,” she spoke watching him step closer.

He hummed, she must have heard Hinita talking about it. “Could we eat out here i can make you a trash and be right back…” he offered, his voice shaky.

She smiled up at him the sunset reflecting on her eyes and completion so beautifully. “Why are you so nervous huh Tobio..” she said looking through her lashes stepping closer to him.

“I'm not!”

“Mmhm wanna give me a kiss than before you go in?”

He nodded placing his tray down, giving her a quick kiss only for her to pull him back by the shirt. Oh! Oh.. She tasted like shea butter he thought melting into her kiss. Pulling away he felt all fuzzy, “I'll- I'll go get your food now if that's what you would like.. Can I have one more please..?” he muttered the slightest stutter in his voice.

“Yeah, you want another kiss?” she leaded, he hummed.

“I would, I would like another kiss.”

So she did his weight shifting pushing her against the cement sink, her hand placed on his face as she kissed him again her hands trailing down to his neck scratching it slightly causing a groan from him. Pulling back, their breath heavy as Kageyama stood up straight quickly. “I’ll be back!” walking away quickly only to come right back, cupping her face kissing her lips quickly “I Love you.”

She giggled “I love you to!”

I have no clue how to end this😔 but hope you like it!!

[idyllic-affections]

i’m thinking about kaveh first dropping off his kid in ghandarva ville. he did a good job explaining to them that he’ll be back before they know it and that he’ll alway be there for them. before he leaves he feels little hands clutching onto his leg as they just whisper “you promise you’re gonna come back? you won’t leave me, right? you promise you won’t leave me?”

i'll be back.

summary. kaveh finds the strength to leave his child in gandharva ville.

trigger & content warnings. fear of abandonment, references to kaveh's backstory.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. comfort, soft angst. adoptive dad!kaveh & child!reader. 0.9k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. wow you just woke up today and chose gentle violence huh anon /LH i love soft angst. hard angst? yeah, it definitely hurts, but soft angst like this? idk. it hits different sometimes!!!

kaveh did not want to resort to this. he didn't.

the architect truly, sincerely had tried his very best to think of any alternate solutions—maybe he could convince alhaitham to give [name] a chance? no, caring for a child he impulsively decided to pick up off the streets isn't his roommate's responsibility and it really never would be unless the scribe himself decided to take it on, but some people have spontaneous changes of heart! why would alhaitham be any different?

(unfortunately, said man was not going to budge anytime soon. a child would disrupt the comfortable life he had put so much effort into building. kaveh had no choice but to accept that fact. well, really, he knew from the beginning! he was just hoping alhaitham might change.)

in the end, he managed to come up with nothing. he could not think of a single good or attainable option that would allow him to keep them. as much as he hated to admit it, only alhaitham's solution was a viable and reasonable one.

so, here he is, standing in front of tighnari's home in gandharva ville motionlessly with his child held securely in his arms. there were no words in any language that kaveh knew of that could describe what he was feeling. he wordlessly rubs soothing circles on their back.

the silence is impossibly loud.

tighnari does not rush him. he does not so much as even think of complaining. he simply waits quietly with collei at his side, the girl bouncing on her heels slightly in a nervous fidget. she wants to be a good caretaker to [name]; tighnari knows the prospect alone of having to care for them is making her nervous.

kaveh's slightly wavering voice finally breaks the silence:

"you know why i have to leave you here, right?"

they nod quietly, little hands clenched in fists raising up to rub at their watery eyes with their palms—they hope it looks like they're tired and not like they're about to cry, which they are. they hope he doesn't know they're about to cry. they hope he just thinks they're tired from the long journey. they hope he doesn't know the truth.

kaveh knows, of course.

he doesn't say anything about it, though, and only tries to swallow back his own emotions. he tries his best to repress the nauseous feeling stirring in his gut. he tries his best to repress the crawling of his skin. he tries his best to repress the thoughts that this is so impossibly wrong, so impossibly cruel of him.

he hasn't known this child for long, but...

he felt like he was abandoning them.

he felt like he was abandoning his flesh and blood.

absentmindedly, kaveh wondered if this was how his mother felt when she left to fontaine. he hopes not. this feeling is vile. he wouldn't wish it upon his worst enemy.

"and you also know that i'm going to come back all the time to see you, right? and i'm always going to be here if you need me?"

their voice cracks slightly. "yeah."

it's not at all that kaveh doesn't trust tighnari and collei; he does, and he knows they'll take good care of [name], but... still. he wants to be the one taking care of them. he wants to keep them.

he can't.

kaveh then kneels down, and their heart sinks in to the pit of their stomach, despite the fact that they already knew this was inevitably going to happen. just as they dreaded, he sets them down onto their own two feet.

they're reluctant to release their tiny grip from his shirt, but they do so regardless of their hesitance. a slight whimper rises in their throat when kaveh's warmth is gone from them.

kaveh hasn't ever really had to comfort children before.

he's... not sure what to do from here, quite frankly, so he does the first thing that comes to mind.

he leans forward, pressing the smallest, most hesitant of kisses to the crown of their head.

then, he stands up.

he doesn't get very far before one of their little hands is clutching his pant leg, and he inhales sharply, turning back to face them. "[name]..."

kaveh cuts himself off.

their eyes are wide, glittering with the sheen of unshed tears, and their bottom lip is split and cracked—they've either been picking at it or biting it, kaveh notes. how did he not notice before?

in their moment of sadness and stress, their accent peeks through a bit more heavily. it's in a shaky voice on the brink of breaking that they ask, "you promise you're gonna come back, right? you won't leave me, will you?"

...

kaveh earnestly believes he might cry about this when he gets home. oh well. alhaitham will simply have to deal with it.

for now, though, he doesn't cry. he can't.

the architect kneels back down to their height, wiping away the single tear that slid down their cheek with his calloused fingertips. "of course."

"you— you're not gonna leave me, right? you're not leaving me?"

"no. never. i promise, okay?" he whispers. "i'm here, okay? i'm always here if you need me. you just need to tell tighnari. he'll tell me you asked for me and i'll come back here. anytime."

kaveh briefly wonders if he'll regret making such a promise—his clients may suffer if they ask for him at a bad time—but then again...

he can't really say he ever will, not with the way they look at him with such vulnerable trust.

he can't regret it when they're putting their damaged trust into his hands.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[biblio-smia]

hello just a simple fluff request

hanging out with non-gf!bestfriend!ethan and he accidentally blurts out his crush on reader

it's been an hour since you've caught ethan looking at you strangely.

you've tried to catch him again for confirmation but it's as if he has a sensor, eyes flickering away just as you glance over. you've gone as far as to keep your head very still - to no avail. ethan's got you beat.

maybe you have something on your face. but you've wiped your mouth and ethan would be a terrible best friend if he didn't point it out within the hour.

your faith is beginning to waiver, frustration forcing your attention from the movie playing to ethan (and yourself - but mostly ethan).

his subtle glances feel like digs, growing your self-consciousness with each one. your mind wastes no time in creating a far-fetched, unreasonably reasonable explanation for how stiffly ethan sits. maybe he really hated the movie you picked out but felt bad saying anything. maybe he found out you'd skipped the history lecture you promised him you'd attend.

"ethan," you finally grumble, not bothering to press pause before turning to ethan. "you're pissing me off."

"what?" ethan's voice breaks out of surprise, a clearing of his throat quickly following his question.

"what do you keep staring at? if there's something on my face and you're not telling me-"

"there's nothing on your face."

you glare at him pointedly. suspiciously. your doubt is obvious but ethan ignores it, turning back to the tv and rewinding the last minute or so you have missed.

he's dug his own grave. this is even stranger than him arguing with you.

"ethan."

you're shushed immediately, finger to ethan's lips pressing against yours right after. you move ethan's hand away from your face but your grip remains strong in hopes you'll catch his attention again.

"you haven't been paying attention for the past forty minutes."

ethan scoffs. "yes, i have!"

he doesn't have to look at you to know exactly which look you're giving him. you don't have to speak to confirm you've caught him in a lie.

ethan grabs the bowl of popcorn he cleared within the first ten minutes, heading off into the kitchen with a weak "want any?" over his shoulder.

avoidance. you'll be having none of it.

you're hot on his tail, unable to let it go. it's unlike ethan to keep anything from you. you've worked hard for status of best friend and you're sure as hell not letting go of it anytime soon.

"ethan," you repeat in that tone ethan recognizes too well. he's never excelled at lying and he's even worse at hiding his feelings from you.

he wonders how he's gone so long.

he should be rewarded, really.

"ethan, what's wrong?" your tone is soft now, reminding ethan of the gentle touches of yours he always finds himself falling in to.

it's tricky, now - he feels himself cracking. alright, he admits it. his will is weak-to-non-existent when it comes to you. he can hear his friends' "i told you so!s" already.

if that wasn't bad enough, the look on your face makes ethan's heart drop. he's taken too long to answer. it's worrying you now, your attempts of humor running out quicker than usual. ethan can see you desperately think of a plan b.

so he blurts out the first thing on his mind - the very thing that's been taunting him for days now - just to bring you peace.

ethan's sure it'll do the opposite as he watches your face adopt an expression he's never seen before. he realizes now, too late, that this confession could backfire very, very painfully.

"that's it?"

ethan's eyes are wide, body frozen in place as he watches you carefully. not that he'd be able to pick up on any micro-changes in your expression like he usually prides himself in - it's clear his head isn't quite working right.

he's too afraid to move, as if standing very still will trick you into thinking he's not there. better yet, he never existed.

"ethan?" you're laughing, waving your hand in front of ethan's face.

yeah. no such luck.

"eth?" your hands cup his face now and ethan wonders how he's ever survived you calling him that. "is that what's been bothering you all night?"

ethan manages to nod his head yes, his body unconsciously reacting to your touch. he's too comfortable in it, never ready to be let go.

"you didn't have to torture yourself," you grin knowingly. "don't think i've ever had it in me to say no to you."

ethan doesn't think reminding you of the time you said no when he begged you to see star wars: the phantom menace for the sixth time would help his case.

he lets you graze his jaw, sweet touches torturous to his heart. but all of it is relieved as you kiss him, silently telling him everything he's wanted to hear.

perhaps he has an excuse, now, to be in your arms for a little too long.

masterlist

buy me a ko-fi!

[writingforstraykids]

More than friends - Chp.2

Pairing: Minho x Chan x fem!reader / Minchan x fem!reader

Word Count: 5052

Summary: Things with Chan don't work out as expected and he seems a little irritated by your sudden deep bond with Minho, feeling left out. When he doesn't feel well you're the one taking care of him...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, insomnia, chan has trouble breathing, emotional hurt!comfort, hurt!comfort, insecure/jealous!chan, soft!minho

A/N: For everyone wondering why this chapter isn't going as you thought...I'm currently working on chapter 4👀🤭~🌙

PART ONE | PART THREE

"You're not mad?" Minho asks and tilts his head at him. 

"We've talked about this, baby. I could tell you like her more than a friend, and she's so desperate for love she doesn't pick up on a damn signal," he rolls his eyes at you. "I knew one day I'd come home, and you'd tell me you met someone. It's even better knowing it's my best friend." 

Minho's face softens, and he visibly relaxes. "And you're okay with that?" 

Chan smiles at him fondly. "I am very okay with that." 

“Great…because there’s more,” Minho nods gently, and Chan frowns at him.

“More?” he asks puzzled.

Minho meets your eyes and nods encouragingly. "I…I know I've been a complete bitch yesterday," you start gently, making your way over to the table. 

"You were," Chan nods, still not quite forgiving you for treating Minho that shitty. 

"It's because I was jealous," you confess. 

"Jealous? You mean of me because I'm Minho's boyfriend?" he asks, frowning softly. 

"And jealous of me because I'm your boyfriend," Minho clarifies, and Chan's frown deepens. 

"I've been in love with you for years, Chan," you admit quietly. "I gave up on that, and then I met Minho and developed a crush on him."

"Oh." Chan breathes out, eyes widening. 

"And then you told her we're a couple." Minho nods. 

"Yeah," you nod and anxiously rub your arm, sitting down at the table with them. "Like, what's the chance the two guys I fell for become boyfriends instead?"

Minho giggles. "Mhm sounds frustrating." 

"It was," you nod and chew your lower lip, glancing at your hyung. "Chan I…I still have feelings for you too." 

Chan nods very gently and rubs the back of his neck, glancing from you to Minho and back. "I uhm…what's the plan here?" 

Minho steps in, placing his hand on Chan's resting on the table. "I told you I'm open to having more than one partner…she would be too. That doesn't mean you have to be, and I don't want you to feel pressured or anything," he says, and Chan searches his eyes observantly. You watch them anxiously, feeling like you're intruding even though this is about you just as much. 

"Phew, okay," Chan nods very slowly, looking at you shortly. He can tell you're desperate to hear his answer and wishes he could give you what you want to hear. Sighing, he closes his eyes for a moment before focusing on Minho again. His boyfriend's kind smile and understanding eyes give him a sense of safety in this new situation. "I…I don't think I'm ready for all this," Chan gently shakes his head, and your heart drops slightly. He sighs and turns to look at you. "I love you too, I have for years," he says, a gentle smile covering his face. "But…"

"Not like that," you nod, swallowing hard. 

"No, that's not it," Chan shakes his head and squints his eyes at you for a second. "I'm-I love you, actually, but…I'm not ready." 

"Okay," you whisper, swallowing down tears bravely. 

"It's not you; it's the job and what comes with it. I'm still not very used to Min and me hiding all the time," he says, looking back at him, his smile saddening a little. "I don't think I can handle having to hide two partners right now, it's…it's too much and…oh, darling, please don't cry," he ends with a whisper, as he looks back at you and sees a big tear falling down your cheek. "God, I'm so sorry," he says and gets up, stepping behind you and pulling you against his chest. He kisses your cheek softly and leans his head against you, meeting Minho's eyes. "I love you, okay?" 

"Love you too," you nod and gently pat his arms, which are wrapped around your chest. 

"I need some time to figure this out, okay?" Chan asks gently, and you nod again, swallowing hard. "This is all very new to me, starting with the fact that you have feelings for me too. I didn't think you did. Also, I'm…I never really thought about having multiple partners, dear." 

"It's fine," you promise, quickly wiping away another tear. 

Chan squeezes you tightly and gently rocks you in his arms. "I'll figure this out, I promise," he says, and you can do nothing but nod. "I love you so much, Y/N. Don't forget that while I do," he tells you and places a gentle kiss on your shoulder. 

Minho joins the two of you and cups your face, soothingly caressing your cheeks. "Maybe it's better this way for now," he says and gives you an encouraging smile. "After all, the two of us have enough to figure out on our own for now." 

"Yeah," you nod and exhale deeply. "I need a moment," you say and squeeze Chan's arms for him to let go of you. 

Chan stares after you, deep in thought, and almost reacts a little startled as Minho steps next to him, rubbing his shoulder. "Minnie baby?" he asks quietly. 

"Yes, love?" Minho asks patiently. 

"I didn't just fuck that up, right?" he asks anxiously. 

Minho shakes his head and steps in front of him. "Look at me," he says softly, and Chan's worried chocolate orbs meet his own calm ones. "I'm proud of you." 

"What?" he asks confused. 

"You made sure to set your boundaries even if it meant hurting her for now," he says, and Chan's eyes flicker away guiltily. "Hey," he gently grabs his chin and makes him look at him again. "It's important, and she knows you love her nevertheless."

"I didn't want to hurt her," he says and anxiously chews on his lower lip. "It's just…I don't even know right now if I still love her like that." 

Minho lovingly fondles his lip with his thumb, easing it out from between his teeth. "Remember this?" he says, gently taking Chan's hand and placing it on his chest right above his heart. Chan smiles softly and grabs Minho's hand, placing it on his chest. "Your feelings are valid. Your comfort matters. You have to listen to yourself first." 

Chan nods along, exhaling softly, and feels the pressure of keeping up an act until everyone else is happy falling off him. He can feel Minho's heart beating beneath the palm of his hand, Minho's hand spreading warmth on his chest. "Thank you," he whispers. 

Minho covers his hand with the other and rubs mindless patterns against his skin. "You feel that?" he asks, speaking of his heartbeat, and Chan nods. "As long as this is beating, I'll be right there reminding you of these things and loving you with every fiber of my body." 

Chan's face breaks into a sweet smile, dimples accentuating his face. "I love you too, Minnie." 

"I know you do," he smiles softly. "Which is why I'll respect you taking your time, and I promise I won't pressure you because I trust you." 

Chan smiles and presses their foreheads together. "I don't know what I'd do without you." 

"Stop that," he giggles and takes Chan's hand, that's still resting on his chest. He brings it up to his mouth and plants tiny kisses on his knuckles. "I'll go check on her, okay? Why don't you wash up, and I'll make dinner after?" 

"Sounds good to me," he nods and leans in, stealing a loving kiss. "Thank you, baby." 

"I just kissed your best friend, and you didn't freak. I should be thanking you," he giggles playfully and pokes his side. Minho makes his way upstairs and gently knocks at your door before letting himself in. He bites back a laugh, seeing you lying on your stomach in bed, your face buried in a pillow. Minho throws himself onto the mattress next to you, mirroring your position for a moment before pulling his face from the pillow. "How the fuck do you breathe like that?" 

"I don't," you say, your voice muffled by the pillow. 

Minho giggles softly and shifts onto his side, bracing his head on his arm. "What are you feeling right now?" he asks, very gently brushing his hand over your head. 

"I don't know," you whine softly. "Like, I'm happy we talked about this and everything…but I feel bad for throwing it onto Channie like that." 

Minho hums softly. "He feels bad for hurting you."

"What?" you groan, pushing yourself up. 

"Well, he hates seeing you cry, dummy," he snorts and mindlessly rubs his hand down your arm. "Give him time, alright?" 

"It's not like I'd have a choice," you sigh. 

"Not really," he smirks and gently pokes your nose with his finger. "But you have me for now…that's a start, isn't it?" 

You laugh softly and roll your eyes at him. "You're right," you nod and let him caress your cheek caringly. 

"We'll need some time as well to figure out how things work out for us," he tells you. "I don't want to rush." 

"I get that," you nod agreeingly.

Minho nods before pulling you close and on top of him as he turns onto his back. "You're gonna be okay? With Channie, I mean?" 

"I'll be alright," you tell him, smiling down at him. 

"Good," he hums gently and smiles up at you, eyes sparkling as he does. 

Every time you see him up close, you can tell why Chan fell so hard for him that easily. You mindlessly brush back his hair before meeting his eyes again. "Should we go and make dinner?" 

"Yeah," Minho nods and searches your eyes before gently connecting your lips. You smile into the feeling and kiss back softly before pulling back. "I got you," he promises softly, and you believe him. 

-

A few days later, Chan comes back from the studio, throwing his bag aside and making his way toward the two of you on the sofa. He subconsciously slows down seeing you on Minho's lap, giggling with him as you show him something on your phone. Minho mindlessly rubs your thigh, head resting on your shoulder. Chan sits down on the sofa with a bit of distance between him and the two of you, somehow feeling like he's intruding. 

Minho looks up and flashes him a genuine smile, reaching out for his hand. "Hey, Channie love." 

"Hey there," you say, scrolling through your pictures. 

"Hey," he says softly, squeezing his hand. 

"You had a good day, love?" he asks caringly.

Chan hums gently. "Yeah, it was alright." 

"We didn't make dinner yet," he tells him, squeezing his hand. 

"Okay," Chan nods and gets up. "I'll go shower first, then." 

"Sure," Minho nods and focuses back on you as you show him something. He giggles as you show him something. 

"What are you looking at?" Chan asks curiously, and you also turn the phone for him to see. "Y/N, I told you not to show him those," he groans as he sees a picture of himself as a kid. 

"What?" Minho frowns at him. "You look so cute." 

"No, I didn't," he shakes his head, frustrated. "Can you stop that?" 

"I'm sorry, I just stumbled across them in my gallery," you tell him honestly. "I found a few of us back when we were like five. You wanna see them?" 

"No," he shakes his head and shoves his hands into his pockets. 

You frown softly and shut off your phone. "What's wrong? Usually, you love looking at old pictures." 

"No, I don't. You love looking at them," he says, giving you a meaningful glance. "For me, they're a reminder of the freedom to do whatever I want I don't have anymore." 

"Okay, you could've told me that," you tell him gently. 

"Whatever," he huffs and walks upstairs before you can react any further. 

"What the hell was that about?" you frown. 

"He's probably tired," Minho shrugs and gently pats your hips. "Can you handle dinner tonight? I'll go make sure he's okay, help him wash up and stuff." 

"Sure," you nod agreeing, and busy yourself in the kitchen. Earlier today, Minho and you decided to surprise Chan with his favorite, and you're determined to get it right. 

Minho steps into their bathroom and pulls the door closed after him, leaning against it. "What was that about?" 

"I already told you," he says, pulling off his beanie, curls falling freely around his face. 

"You never told me that before," he frowns softly. 

"Mhm, because you always get all happy and giggling, and that's cute," Chan rolls his eyes playfully, pulling off his sweater. 

Minho watches him observantly and chews his lower lip. "You know I asked you if you're okay with the thought of me having another partner like a thousand times, right?" he asks, and Chan hums simply, throwing his sweatpants into a corner. "And what did you tell me?" 

"Min, this isn't about you and her being a thing now," he groans softly and raises his eyebrows as Minho steps in front of him, grabbing his chin and making him look at him. 

"Don't do that," he says, searching his eyes. "Don't play pretend with me." 

"I'm not -" his mouth falls shut at Minho's firm look. "Baby," he groans in protest. 

"You're either going to be honest with me right now, or I'll leave and ignore you sulking all evening," he says, and Chan closes his eyes in defeat. 

"I…not now, okay?" he asks quietly. Minho watches him for another moment before turning around and leaving, going back downstairs. Chan bites back a frustrated groan and rubs his face tiredly, wondering if he pissed him off now. Only shortly after, the door opens again, and he's back, closing the door after himself and locking it. He doesn't pay much attention to him as he turns on the water in the tub and checks the temperature. 

Minho's clothes soon meet the floor, wearing only his boxers. He closes the distance and pulls him into a fierce kiss. Chan's hands land on his hips, pulling him in, as he chases his lips desperately almost immediately. Minho deepens the kiss and fondles down his back. "You trust me?" 

"Yeah," he whispers against his lips, his eyes falling close as Minho kisses down his neck. Minho pulls him into the bathtub as soon as it's filled and straddles his lap, hugging him close as he does. Chan instinctively buries his face in his neck, humming lowly as Minho runs his hand through his hair. 

Minho soothingly massages his scalp before easing out all the knots in Chan's neck and shoulders, making his boyfriend moan against his skin in relief. "You're tired, love?" he asks gently, and Chan hums in agreement. "Lean back your head a little; I'll wash your hair for you," he says, and Chan does as he says, eyes fluttering close as soon as Minho starts massaging the shampoo into his hair. Minho smiles softly at the sight and takes his time, lovingly washing his hair for him. "You're so pretty," he says adoringly once he's done, and Chan blushes heavily. 

"No, I'm not," he protests tiredly. 

Minho shakes his head at him and cups his face, planting tiny kisses all over his face until Chan starts giggling. "Gosh, my sweet love, I wish you'd believe me one day when I tell you that." 

"Sorry," he smiles, pained. "I just don't see it." 

"I'll tell you until you do, my pretty boy," Minho promises and gently rubs his shoulders. “So, what’s going on?”

Chan sighs softly. "I guess I'm scared." 

"Of what?" Minho asks patiently, soothingly fondling his back. 

"That she'll be better for you than I am," he admits. "Or that you'll end up loving her more." 

Minho cups his face and searches his eyes observantly. "My sweet Channie love," he says adoringly. "Why would I ever compare the two of you, huh? This doesn't mean I'll leave you behind." 

"Promise?" he asks, almost sounding a little timid. 

"I promise," he nods and kisses him soothingly. "I love you so much, Channie; I'd never want to miss that." 

"I love you too," he smiles softly. 

"I mean it, love," Minho promises and presses another few soft kisses all over his face until Chan's giggling and trying to get away. 

-

Just like that, another two weeks passed, and Minho and you grew more comfortable around each other. Chan doesn’t seem to mind anymore, knowing he’d always have a special place in Minho’s heart no matter what, and you’re not pressuring him to make a move. He still has no idea of what his feelings look like for you and he's glad you haven't brought it up until now. 

You’re getting ready for university as Minho rushes down the stairs, putting on his sneakers in the process and almost stumbling. 

“Baby, be careful,” Chan says, sounding a little stressed as he watches him stumbling once more. “There’s no use in you getting hurt just so you’re on time,” he laughs as Minho’s glasses drop to the floor and his boyfriend curses.

“If you woke me up in time, I wouldn’t be running late,” he protests, stuffing the laces into his sneakers. 

Chan rolls his eyes playfully and picks up his glasses for him, putting them back on his nose. “You have an alarm for a reason, baby,” he reminds him gently before kneeling in front of him. 

“That’s the third time this week you missed putting an alarm,” you frown softly. 

“I didn’t forget today,” he shakes his head, smiling softly as Chan ties his shoelaces for him. He gently ruffles his hair, and Chan makes a soft protesting sound. “I simply didn’t hear it.”

“You were that tired?” you ask worriedly. “I thought you went to bed early yesterday?”

“Well, I did, but-” he glances down at Chan before looking up at you again and smirking. “I didn’t go to sleep just then.”

“Got it,” you snort and ignore Chan’s chuckle. “Why was he up that early then?”

“When am I not?” Chan laughs and rolls his eyes at himself. 

“Okay, fair point,” you chuckle.

“I really have to leave,” Minho says and kisses Chan, gripping the hem of his shirt for a moment as if he’s scared to let go of their shared intimacy only hours before. 

Chan grips his hips, kissing back sweetly. “See you later, baby.”

Minho smiles softly and steals another kiss before rushing over to you. “Bye, kitten,” he smiles and quickly kisses you before racing off. The door slams shut behind him, and Chan turns to you. 

“Three, two, one,” he says, and the door gets ripped open again.

“Forgot my bag, sorry,” Minho shouts and is already gone again. 

Chan and you exchange a look before cracking up. “Fucks sake, he really doesn’t change,” Chan giggles and glances at the clock above the kitchen counter. “You need a ride?”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you assure him, taking a bite of your toast and scribbling down a few notes. 

“I know,” he shrugs and tilts his head at you. “But I want to.”

“Okay,” you smile at him gently and grab your things. 

“You have everything?” he asks, checking the room as he grabs his keys.

“I think I do,” you nod agreeing, and follow him outside to his car. Chan starts the car as soon as you’re buckled up and starts driving. “Any plans for your day off?”

“Probably catching up on some sleep if my body lets me,” he chuckles and keeps his eyes on the road for now. “It’s been weeks since I got a reasonable amount of sleep. The last few days, I slept four hours tops.”

"Four hours isn't that bad for you," you think out loud. 

Chan clears his throat. "In total. Not every night." 

“But you’re okay so far?” you ask, eying him suspiciously. “No dizzy spells? No trouble breathing?”

Chan opens his mouth to assure you he’s fine but closes it again quickly. “I’m…it’s manageable up until now,” he evades your question. 

“Meaning?” you squint your eyes at him. 

“I get dizzy when I get up too quickly,” he confesses and scrunches up his face for a moment. “Also, I hate those damn stairs at the moment.”

“So you do have trouble breathing,” you sigh softly. “Does he know?”

“No, it started this morning, which is why I was up that early,” he shakes his head and checks his mirror before taking a turn left. “He has to host today, didn’t want him to worry.”

“Will you tell him after?” you ask patiently. 

“Not sure yet,” he says, laughing at your tired huff. “Minho worries too much already; he’ll try grounding me if I tell him. I can’t take a break right now with the new album coming up and everything.”

“As long as you don’t overdo it,” you sigh softly and turn to look at him. Only then do you notice the dark patches beneath his eyes, his pale skin, and how he’s controlling his breaths. “You look like shit, mate.”

“Finally, someone agrees,” he comments dryly and pulls into a parking spot in front of your university. 

“Channie!” you protest, making him giggle. “What I mean is you look like you need a break. Seriously, go home and try to sleep; don’t you dare do anything else.”

“I’ll try my best,” he promises. “I’ll come pick you up if I’m still awake.”

“Okay…but don’t you dare get up because of that,” you warn him, and he chuckles, shaking his head as you leave the car. “See ya.”

“See ya, hun,” he smirks and waves you off.

-

Chan doesn’t show up once you’re done a few hours later, and you’re glad because that means he must be sleeping. You stop at a store nearby to buy some sushi for dinner, knowing Chan’s and Minho’s preferences by now. Your phone lights up with a message from Minho, asking you how your day at uni has been. You smile softly, knowing Minho always made time to check in on you and Chan whenever he was busy. After typing a quick reply and sending a selfie with the sushi, you make your way back home. 

You quietly close the front door after you and slip out of your shoes before sneaking into the kitchen, desperate not to make too much noise. You stop in your tracks as you spot Chan at the end of the stairs, sitting there with his face buried in one hand, eyes closed, and one hand pressed against his chest. “Fucks sake,” you sigh softly and make your way over, crouching down in front of him. “Channie?” He replies with a pained, low hum, and you know what’s up. “Dizzy?” you ask, and he shakes his head very subtly. “Can you breathe okay?”

“Hurts,” he whispers strained, taking very short breaths. 

“Can you get up?” you ask calmly, gently rubbing his knee. 

“Dunno,” he admits, but he doesn’t think he can right now. 

“You’re cold?” you ask, noticing his hand shaking against his chest and the goosebumps on his arms as he’s only wearing a shirt. Chan hums, contorting his face in pain at the action. “Take my hand,” you say gently, and he does, hesitantly taking it off his chest. “One squeeze for yes, twice for no, okay?” you ask, and he squeezes one time. “Does anything else hurt besides breathing right now?” you ask, and he squeezes your hand twice. “Okay, that’s good…You want me to stay or leave you alone?” you ask gently.

“That’s two questions, hun,” he whispers with a weak smile, looking at you through lidded eyes for the first time since you’ve arrived.

“Sorry,” you chuckle. “Stay?” you ask, and he squeezes once with a smile. “Did you take a sleeping pill already?” Another squeeze. “How long ago?”

“Not sure,” he answers honestly. He has no idea since when he’s sitting here, too exhausted to move any step further. “Shortly after I got back,” he adds, a little drowsily. 

Your eyes widen. “Fucks sake, that’s three hours ago at least,” you burst out, and he chuckles before wincing in pain. That explains how long it takes him to process your questions.

He sinks forward, burying his face in your shoulder, and presses his hand back against his chest. “Ow,” he sniffles softly, eyes brimming with tears.

You soothingly run your hand through his hair and squeeze his other hand, that’s still in yours. “Shh, I got you…Can I leave you for a moment and get some things to make you more comfortable?” After a moment, Chan squeezes your hand and sits up again, contorting his face softly as he does. “I’ll be right back, I promise.” You race up the stairs and go into their room, grabbing a sweater of Minho and Chan’s fuzzy blanket and the pillow he keeps stealing from your room. You throw everything into a bag and pull the mattress off their bed with a grunt. “Fucking Chan, and you fucking overworking yourself,” you curse to yourself as you push it into the hallway. “Channie, can you, like, very shortly move away from the stairs?” you ask and watch him worriedly as he pushes himself up, gripping the railing of the stairs as he does. You push the mattress down the stairs and place it right at the end of them. “Okay, here we go,” you say and wrap your arm around Chan, helping him sit on the mattress for now. You grab Minho’s sweater and pull it over his head, giggling as his curls are covering his eyes now. 

"T'fuck are you doin'?" he asks, amused as you brush his hair back for him. "What is this?" he asks, gesturing at the mattress. 

"You said you can't move properly," you say. "The stairs aren't comfortable, you're cold, and you look like you could use some cuddles. I won't do that on the stairs." 

"But on a mattress in the middle of the hallway?" he asks, and you nod firmly. Chan cracks up, wincing almost immediately, and buries his face in your shoulder. "You're so stupidly adorable," he groans. "Also, that's Min's sweater." 

"That's on purpose, dumbass," you snort and feel him smile against your neck as he adjusts his head. "Okay, let's get you comfortable." 

Chan watches you as you unpack your bag, smiling tiredly as he spots his favorite blanket and your pillow. You know him too well sometimes. You get everything into place before kneeling down in front of him, gently placing your hand on his knees. He locks eyes with you and gets lost in them, memories of your shared childhood and never-ending friendship flooding his brain. "You…," he swallows softly at your questioning look. 

"Is the lack of air getting to you?" you ask gently as he doesn't continue and see a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. 

Chan chews on his lower lip and watches you intensely. "You look pretty today." 

"Oh," you breathe out, ears burning up. "Thank you." He smiles gently before lying down on his side and curling up a little, still breathing pained. You lie down next to him and soothingly rub his arm. "Still cold?" 

"A little," he nods, and only seconds later, he's covered by his blanket and in your warm embrace. He allows himself to relax in your arms, closing his eyes and trying to give his body a break. It still hurts, and his eyes brim with tears of frustration. "Y/N?" he asks, barely audible after a while. 

"Yeah?" you ask gently, running your hand through his hair. 

"Can you call Min?" he asks quietly, subconsciously playing with the hem of your sweater. 

"Want him to come home?" you ask, soothingly rubbing his back. 

"Mhm," Chan sniffs softly, cuddling up against you more. He doesn't know why, but he really wants you both there now. 

"Okay," you nod and fumble for your phone, calling Minho. He takes it on the third ring, and you chuckle to yourself. "Hey, Min," you say. 

"What's wrong?" Minho asks, and you bite back a laugh at him, sensing something is off. 

"Can you come home early?" you ask gently. 

Minho glances around the room and hums softly. "Not sure, why? Did something happen?" 

"Channie's not feeling well, don't worry, I'm with him," you tell him and glance down at Chan in your arms. 

"Fucks sake, I knew something was off," Minho groans, frustrated, and already gathers his things. "What did he do this time?" 

"He had trouble breathing when I came home…but it's better now, right?" you ask, and Chan hums in response. "Yeah, it's better now."

"I'll be there as soon as I can." 

-

Minho keeps his promise, and only fifteen minutes later, you can hear his keys at the door. He drops his stuff in the entrance and makes his way over quickly, stunned at the sight of you two. "What the fuck?" 

"He couldn't move, so I had to bring the bed to him," you shrug unbothered. 

Minho joins you on the mattress, lovingly brushing back Chan's hair. "Hey, love," he says softly. "Didn't get enough sleep lately?" 

"Not really," Chan says, muffled by the fabric of your sweater. 

Minho hums gently before getting comfortable next to him and spooning him. His hand slips between your bodies, soothingly rubbing Chan's chest. "Try and get some sleep, okay?" he asks softly. 

"Can you two keep talking?" he asks, knowing your voices would lull him in eventually. He feels safe between the two of you, surrounded by warmth. Minho's rubbing his chest, you're playing with his hair, and he slowly drifts off to the sound of your voices. 

Not much after Chan seems to be asleep Minho drifts off himself, cuddling up to Chan in the process. He's tired from his day at work and doesn't seem to mind that little break. You smile gently and reach out, fondling both of their hair before wanting to get up and give them some privacy. 

Chan's grip around you tightens as you do, and you stop in your tracks. "Stay," he mumbles sleepily, and you get comfortable again. 

Maybe he just really needed both of you right now. Was that a first step in the right direction? 

PART ONE | PART THREE

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

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[ayyyez]

hello!! I hope you are feeling well!! can i ask for headcanons madara and tobirama with f!reader who is a very strong kunoichi, equal in strength to them? but at the same time she is very affectionate with them. thank you in advance!!

A/N: I am having a good energy day today so I am good thank you! I hope you are well too. Oh absolutely! This is actually my favourite kind of s/o to write for them. Not that I can't imagine them with a non-fighter s/o it's just this is my favourite kind of dynamic to write for these two. Including the affection too haha. Thanks for the request.

TAGS: relationship headcanons, fluff, general dynamics, shinobi reader, affectionate reader, flirting, kissing

CHARACTERS: Madara Uchiha, Tobirama Senju

MADARA UCHIHA

This gremlin? ohohoho. Alright here we go.

For him strength is quite the turn on. He sees you kicking someones ass or taking someone down and that's the moment he's down bad. Madara is attracted to you immediately.

Bonus points if you can banter with him too THAT really gets him hooked. Strong AND can hold your own against him with your quick wit?

Be still his beating heart. Probably says that out loud.

Chases you from the moment he sees you if it's village timeline. If it's pre village he's internally suffering over the "enemy" he's longing for into the late evenings.

You might be on opposing sides but his nights are filled with your interactions.

He's tossing and turning constantly.

Those interactions run through his head and he's tormented by the fact you'll never be his but still he longs for you. He craves you. He has to have you~

The interactions the two of you have are heated.

Fights where the two of you battle for dominance, cutting each other with honeyed words in a cloud of lust.

It was hard to tell if he was fighting you or flirting with you. Injuries were had but none dyer or ever resulting in serious consequences.

Then came the day you forced him onto his back, weapon kicked away and arms pined beside his head. Both of you panting. The tension palpable.

The way you to stared at each other, pupils dilated—it couldn't be seen as disdain or hate but something else.

That's when the two of you kissed.

You weren't really sure who leant in first. The two of you met in the middle. Both of you wanting this from the beginning.

Your lips sweet on his. He couldn't help but wanting more as he pushed, pushed, pushed further into the—oh his hands were in your hair now—when did your hands release him?

The two of you together are a couple of insatiable gremlins. He's just as affectionate although he does attempt to keep it in check in public.

The second his jealousy is kicked into gear though or his possessiveness kicks in so does his physical affection.

If you are in anyway the same it only spurs him on too.

You kiss him in public? He's smirking like a show for the around onlookers after.

It's to say 'Yeah this is my s/o.'

Always pushing into your touch the second you're reaching for him.

Take his chin in your hand and pull his face (tug that bitch) toward you. Make him wait (he's not patient but make him be it's fun) and gently brush you lips against his to keep him wanting.

It's a good way to make him melt and rile him up.

There's also the gentle moments. The absent minded touches. The two of you always seem to have a hand on each other. Resting on a thigh, the small of the back, head resting on a shoulder.

Physical affection in private can be a little more playful. Just bite his shoulder and he'll not even think twice about it. 'May I help you?' or 'And what do I owe this pleasure?' Yes, biting his shoulder amuses him, ergo pleasure lmao.

Kind of gets an ego boost seeing all the different sides of you.

TOBIRAMA SENJU

Honestly? Tobirama NEEDS someone who can kick his ass. Whether that be verbally or physically it doesn't matter as long as you call him out on his shit.

The fact you are on the same physical level as him as a shinobi is just a bonus (and he won't admit it in a hundred years but he's turned on~)

You've got to play it smart with the affection and not come on too fast too soon. Honestly, in general with all things with Tobirama you can't come on too fast.

He's like a gentle current, flowing steadily along the stream until suddenly he's a powerful waterfall crashing down (yeah that's him falling for you–steadily then all at once)

At first the affection is going to be a point of discomfort for him.

One, because he's not used to it and two, he's not sure why he keeps thinking about it. The feel of your touch, wondering about the meaning behind it.

It makes him so frustrated because you've become a distraction and somewhat a fixation for him–pulling him from important priorities.

it's not long before he pushes that logic aside though.

He starts longing for more of your touch, expecting it and seeking it out. More and more. It's all he can think about.

Those small touches of affection are things that get him through the day and the warmth he begins to crave.

He tolerates them now.

Tobirama runs cold and by nature seeks out warmth. Finds his hands soothed when yours envelop his. The same when your hand finds his cheek. It takes everything not to press into it. Sometimes he lets himself (just a little) and mostly when he's exhausted.

Craves physical affection.

Touch starved.

Will almost never seek out your touch so you intiating physical affection is the perfect balance.

Just kind of leans into your hold whenever you reach out. Like a magnet to your warmth. Whole body presses against you when he's exhausted, that's your cue to pull him close and gently stroke your fingertips up and down his back.

Put each hand on his cheeks and stroke them. When he relaxes thats the time to catch him off guard (not really he's always on guard but he's more relaxed) and pull him in and kiss him. Long drawn out kisses that leave him longing.

These moment give him a little more energy. They allow you to see those rare small smiles.

Tobirama also really values your opinion on things regarding shinobi life and village life in general.

Will ask your input on things and involve you on village matters (sometimes just to spend more time with you) other times simply because its important to him.

Post policy discussion make outs at home once you come to a conclusion of how to strengthen the village. Holding him tight and kissing him hard.

Tobirama is very into you in these moments.

It may take a little time for Tobirama to adjust to the affection but it is something he grows to not only love but take comfort in. He appreciates your strength and affection in equal parts.

[luvh4nji]

𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 + 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

warning: most written with the idea of bestfriend!reader in mind !

heeseung ; he seems like the type to not think too much about it. he's had his fair share of admirers trying to get him to fall for him. however, he's never paid attention to any of them because he really only has eyes for one person. you. he doesn't really think twice about the letters he has received because he doesn't susoect that you could be the person sending them. he just assumes it's someone else because ou only see him as a friend, right? wrong!

he thinks you're just the cutest little thing whne you come up to him, cheeks a shade darker, eyes downcast as you ask him if you've gtten your letters, confessing that you can't wait anymore and you want him to know that it's you whose been sending the letters. he almost can't stop the breath of relief that surges through his body, wrapping you up in his arms and pressing little kisses to every crevice of your face his lips can reach. "you don't even know how good that is here, lovey." and he can't help the way his heart swells at the gentle sound of your laughter.

jay ; he already knows it's you. something about the lettering and wording, it was a dead giveaway to him. however, he won't pressure you to confess before you're ready. your friendship was already sweet and touchy, people mistook him for your boyfriend all the time. he could wait a little longer for you to feel comfortable enough to confess. still, he definitely nudges you in the right direction.

he's much more touchy, pulling you to sit on his lap when you come over to movie nights, his hands wrapped around your waist and rubbing the hem of your shirt between his thumb and forefinger. he thinks it's so cute how flustered you get, noticing how different he's being. and he thinks it'e evn cuter when you come to him, cheeks blushing a dark color, handing him a letter with his name on it, ready to tell him what you want.

jake ; he seems like the type to get really caught up in the romance of it all. although he doesn't seem like the type to really dwell on romance, generally speaking, there's something about the way your words are scrawled out on the page that make his heart beat a little faster. he's the type to go out of his way to try and find who sent the letter, his senses keener until he sniffs out who did it. and then, one day, he finds you outside his apartment, sneaking a letter underneath the crack of his door.

he bites his lip to keep a smile at bay as he slinks up behind you, quietly snaking his arms around your waist and pulling your back to his chest. "so, it is you the whole time, was it?" he muttered, lips brushing agianst the exposed skin of your neck. "wish you would've just told me, pretty." he continues when he hears your breath hitch, feels a shiver wrack through your body. pulling away, he grabs your hand, keeping you close as he unlocks the door. "why don't you come inside, we can talk this whole thing outl, yeah?"

sunghoon ; look at him, this is definitely not the first time he has received a love letter from a secret admirer. however, he does notice how different your reaction is when he shows you this particular letter. something about the way your eyebrows furrow together, the way your lip gets sucked between your teeth, the way your fingers fisget restlessly in your lap. oh, he knows it's you. and he's going to get you to admit it.

he's the type to get touchy, his hands brushing over the expanse of your waist and thighs and shoulders, just barely grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. he gets braver, his hands moving to cup your jaw, moving you to look up at him, thumb tracing the curve of your cheeks as he brings you closer. "i know it was you, you know." he murmurs, breath hitting your lips. he grins when your eyes flutter in surprise, his other hand brushing stray strands of hair from your face. "wish you would've just told me." and it's almost fairytale, the way his lips feel pressed to the curve of your own.

sunoo ; he so, so gushes over it. he's the type to wear the fact that he received a love letter on his sleeve, bragging about it anyone who'll listen, putting on ashow of bravo almost. but in private, he poors over the letter, fingers tracing over the sprawling script almost reverently, looking for any detail that could give away who it could be from. poor boy never realizes that it could be from the person right next to him.

it's almost as if a dam opens when he finds you slipping a note into his bag as he comes back from the bathroom. storming over, he grabs your hand, taking the letter from you and looking over it, the script so similar to the previous letter he had received, eyes widening with the realization. "it was you? why didn't you tell me?" he asks, eyes shining, lacing his fingers with your own. "i could've had you the whole time?"

jungwon ; he gets so flustered. the second he finds the letter stowed away in his practice bag, paper all pastel pink, words scrawled in a pretty cursive script describing how cute and wonderful and amazing and kind and evreything else he is, his face burns a bright red, biting his lip between his teeth to keep a wide grin at bay. he's definitely the type to bring it up to you and the guys all the time, bragging about the fact that he got a love letter while the rest of them didn't, although he will be a little flustered the whole time.

and when you notice how much he enjoys the letters and decide to reval yourself in one of them? he goes crazy, the second he reads your name at the bottom of the paper, he's slipping on his shoes and a jacket and running to your apartment as fast as he can. and when you open the door, all tired and cute, he can't help but cup your cheeks and press a burning kiss to your lips, thumbs rubbing against the apples of your cheeks softly. "i love you, too." he mumbles, only just loud enough for you to hear, grinning to himself at the dazed look on your face.

riki ; definitely seems like the type to think it's a joke at first, before he realizes that maybe that's a little too mean-spirited of a prank for anyone to play on him. after he reckons with the fact that he might, in fact, have a secret admirer, he's kind of at a loss of what to do. he's the type to pretend he doesn't think about it often, he doesn't have the time for omance, he doesn't have the temperment for it. still, he keeps the letters in the back of his nightstand to take out and pour over when he has the chance.

it all comes to a head when he forgets to hide the little box, leading you to discover it sitting on the floor next to his bed. his cheeks flush a deep pink once he sees what you've discovered, trying and failing to come up with excuses as to why he would still have the letters. but when you give a sweet, somewhat nervous, smile, telling him that you're glad he enjoyed your letters, it's like a switch flips in him. he rushes to you, wrapping you in his arms, cupping your face in his hands, and gives you the most reverent, adoring look you'd ever seen on him. "if i had known it was you..." but he never finishes his sentence, opting to press a kiss to the crown of your head instead.

[mamawasatesttube]

Ouuugh so many good options, i suppose 9 or 15 for the prompts

9. "It will be better in the morning."

"I've decided," Tim announces, "that I have a cure for nightmares."

He doesn't look like he's in much of a position to be announcing any kind of breakthrough; he's swaddled in a throw blanket and curled up against Kon's chest, his hair impressively disheveled and his cheeks still a little blotchy from tears. He kind of reminds Kon of one of those baby chicks that've just hatched and are mad about it, with the barely-dried downy fuzz sticking every which way. The yellow lamplight glimmers in his eyes as he peeps up at Kon's face, expectant.

Kon hums. Purrs louder as he keeps rocking the recliner back and forth, slow and gentle. "Is it drinking your hot chocolate and listening to Car Talk until you fall back asleep?"

Tim scoffs. "No." He pauses, wrinkling his nose a little. "I mean. I'll drink the hot chocolate, since you made it for me and all. But no. I'm simply never gonna sleep ever again. Foolproof."

Kon snorts, scrunching his hand through Tim's hair. Tim takes a soft breath, only a little shaky, and then smushes his face into the crook of Kon's neck again. His breath tickles a little against Kon's skin.

"Babe," Kon says. "Sorry to break it to you, but you literally fall asleep on me every single movie night. You're, like, the archetypical dad from every single tweet about dads who fall asleep five minutes into movies. And you aren't even an actual dad."

Tim huffs, a tiny puff of token offense. "I could change." His fingers curl into Kon's shirt. "Can't have a flashback in your sleep if you never sleep again."

"Yeah, you'll just start having sleep deprivation hallucinations." Kon kisses the top of his head. It's late enough it's almost early; he stifles a yawn. The last thing he wants is for Tim to feel guiltier than he already does for keeping him up. "Besides, you love sleeping."

Tim heaves a great, despondent sigh. "I do love sleeping," he admits, a little morose. "Sucks when sleeping doesn't love me back."

"I love you back," Kon coos.

He can feel Tim's lips quirk into a tiny smile against his collarbone. "You're such a giant cheese," Tim mumbles. He doesn't say it back, not with words, but the brush of his lips in the tiniest whisper of a kiss tells Kon everything loud and clear.

Kon purrs a little harder. He likes having Tim here, bundled up in his arms. Likes knowing he makes him feel safer. Likes that he can make him smile after he woke up screaming. "Too bad you're lactose intolerant, huh?"

"I already took my Lactaid to drink the hot chocolate, so shut up." Kon just knows he's rolling his eyes.

"Speaking of which, it's probably a good temperature now," Kon says, and wraps his TTK around the mug to float it over from the side table. "Here."

Tim's hands creep out of the throw blanket to wrap around the mug. He shifts in Kon's arms and sighs again, sitting up to take a tiny sip. His face already looks a little better, cheeks a little less flushed. "Mm. Yeah," he agrees. "...Thanks."

"Always." Kon gives him a gentle squeeze. "Drink up, and then we can just chill before we go back to bed. It'll be better in the morning."

"Mn." Tim makes a noncommittal noise. But he does keep sipping his hot chocolate, and his heart rate is a lot closer to baseline than it was a little while ago. "Guess so."

He twists in Kon's arms suddenly, cups Kon's jaw in one hand, and kisses him. Kon melts like sugar in the rain, the way he always does when Tim kisses him. Tim's lips are a little chapped. He tastes of cocoa and marshmallow fluff.

Tim breaks that kiss, then bumps his nose against Kon's, a silent gesture of gratitude. He blinks at him once, then goes back to his hot chocolate.

Kon smiles and holds him just a bit tighter. The marshmallows on Tim's mouth are definitely sweet, but he can think of something sweeter.