#anyway if any of you want to keep in touch

[court-jobi]

Meal Prep

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's works or the lovely art found here))

Pairing: Bakugo x reader (biker!prohero reader, afab pronouns used)

Words: 5k

Rating: M | 18+ (begone, minor extras- it's too spicy for you, Kacchan says so)

Warnings: hand-holding sexy times, first time!Bakugou/reader, food and commitment as a love language, FEELINGS, accidental quirk use, pet names, piv smut, established relationship, wrap it up, this is fantasy

Summary:

Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together.  And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.

A/N: It's spice, yall. Someone needs to rein their quirk in, and I'm not naming names (Katsuki Bakugou)

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

When Bakugou turned to his side -feeling the hand at his lower back- and went to lift you up on the counter for some kisses, something just... came over you. 

Your moves were tame at first- rubbing his chest and shoulders at the moment’s reprieve. Just giving yourself sweetly into it. Now with his hands on you, he got really hard really fast, and made some quip about you getting fresh between shared ravishments of love. 

Sure, you were biting at his lips longer than usual. Sure, you were hanging onto him in a manner far more codependent than you'd ever claim to be. By the look in his eye, he wasn't ever gonna be caught complaining, though. You’ve  been stared at and longed after across any room you're in just as wantonly, and he's the first to second your opinion when it matters. He calls you every night he's away for missions, and stays his need to sleep just to be able talk to you while your time zones are flip-flopped. 

Although, it was rather hungry of you to be so enamored by him today: where even the simplest conversation about the prices of strawberries going up made you fall slack into him. 

He asks what brought this on~ 

"Just love having you here,” you surmised, “I– like not doing these things alone." 

You’d made the economical offer to cook together and split the bills. Since your diets were fairly similar anyway, you might as well buy in bulk. He was in an indulgent headspace tonight, since he’d been laying on the pet names thick all day; this, his rare day off. Yours is tomorrow, but you were fortunate enough to get off at a decent hour to get the grocery shopping done early- with him. 

– only Bakugou enforced a strict habit of insisting on taking care of the receipt at the store, but never letting you settle up your half. The ‘slip of the mind’ he suffered from the first time was no longer an accident, but a routine.

Now, two stacks of four portioned meals each lay side by side prepped in the fridge. Some additional protein packs top your stash to keep on hand between long night drives; small and compact, they help fuel you mid-mission so you don’t have another repeat of a blood sugar drop while enroute with a squad of heavyweight heroes making a cross-city trek. Bakugou preferred to pick out treats as a surprise in those meal kits. Trivial as gift giving goes, but it offers some enrichment to your otherwise predictable menu. You haven’t seen what he’d snuck in the cart underneath that bag of string beans this time, and just saw their packed away presence in the fridge, teasing you.

But back at the sink where he’d begun to wash up, you ignored their mystery. Now, you just wanted to show him how much he was appreciated.

Yes, something switched in your brain: making meals together, sharing cleanup duties, counting these little moments as blessings and feeling like life’s weight wasn't all just on you put you in a mood. You both might not have necessarily gotten too fresh before today, but this wasn’t simply a domestic dance with lust.

Katsuki made you food; fuel and comfort all in one. He won’t let you touch that door handle in the car even if you’re the one driving, and calls you Angel Eyes like it’s your name. He’s sharp and fast to stop you from doing something stupid, and was the loudest voice in the room when your top 20 ranking was announced across the agency conference table. He’s not just the badass of the agency office who stuns you with his strength and resolve; he’s ready and willing to take a step beside you and do life together. 

And you in turn want to be soft for him, want to give in and let him take care of you.

He wanted to show you he loved you; down to the grind of meal prepping on a Sunday night. That brand of love made you want to jump his bones.

Your adoring man nuzzles and talks to your neck, "Gettin' sappy again, angel."

He is down bad for you: no matter how sassy he makes the observation sound– that scratchy, rumble tone doesn’t help with your dizzying brain at all.

You offer up your neck a little, scratching along the base of his spine for full, soothing effect.

"Whass’wrong with that?" 

Bakugou simply purrs back happily.

"Cuz if you start saying shit like that, I'mma start sayin' shit. Shit I won't be able to stop spewing once I start."

"Maybe I don't want you to stop."

He senses your heart peeking through your words. Your eyes carry the message loud and clear, too, though they’re having a hard time staying open from the headrush. 

Lifting his heavy head, Bakugou studies you thoughtfully, before stepping into this soft side of yours.

"You don't want me to stop." 

Of course you don’t, so you shake your head.

"You want me to stay." 

Through a smile, you give your shy agreement. 

Even more vulnerable, Bakugou’s rare touch of a smile makes its appearance,

"You want me to stay forever? Make sure my lady's fed and happy?”

"Yes," you sink into him, happier than ever. 

"Looks like I'm staying then. Already made you dinner. Whaddya want me to do next?" 

"Hmm– kiss me?" 

Bakugou leans in to grant you your simple wish- but fully laps at your mouth instead. He means to entice, draw things out, make you want him that much more while giving himself nothing but torture at the same time. He’s used to making himself sweat; at least this was the fun simmer that didn’t burn.

The blonde moans low in his chest when you brush his cheek’s scar with your thumb. 

"Whaddya want, pretty girl,” Bakugou scoops you in close, memorizing this hot look of need you’re having right in the middle of chores, “What, y’want me to kiss you forever too?" 

Fixed on his lips -currently teased between his teeth- you give a rare curse that contrasted your sugar sweet demeanor, 

“Hell yes--" 

Kisses smash between you as sloppily as you want while he pulls you off the counter, over to the couch, and plops you on his lap, where you adjust to a squat over him and followed his persistent pull for you to sit. 

Pink lovemarks all over your neck, Bakugou’s rough attentions drive his hands to go just about anywhere he wants in a need-driven frenzy. Whether to warm you up or keep himself from perspiring too much? Who's to say.

Suddenly as he growled out his pleasure at your hips fitting up upon his lap, Bakugou fisted your  shirt in each palm– he tugs you deliciously tight as you kiss the daylights out of him.

Through his satisfied chuckles, he thought all was good until he started feeling some pops muffling in his hands. 

Bakugou knows what's coming– it's the speed of this onset that freaks him out-

His senses shout at him lightning quick, so it's a miracle that Bakugou immediately threw his hands out, shooting off hot sparks with palms out towards the coffee table- spooking you into a yelp. 

The panic settled just as soon as it came– you stared at each other after the round of pops stopped. 

Somehow, you were never afraid he’d ever sweat to the point of harming you, so you rolled with it as if he didn’t just almost blow you to bits. Must just be excited. 

Cheeky, you  thumbed to your bedroom before mimicking a Dynamight-style ‘stressball’ in your palm.

"Need your gloves?"

Bakugou rolled his eyes, "Fuck.... Fine."

As if a little coverage on his hands was going to be the end of the world. 

"I could make a condom joke instead, so be grateful!~" 

A pruned hand smacked your thigh in protest. “Har. Har.”

As you dismounted him (since you knew he was just gonna be pouty and sulk until he could touch you again), you pulled him up by his neckline so that he followed hungrily behind you and didn't cause a stink over it. In your room, you dug in his designated helmet for his gloves, which he roughly handled and donned while you rounded his strong set of shoulders and kissed him through it across the bits of skin you could reach.

"Can't believe I gotta put these fuckin’- things on- every time I get hot and fuckin' bothered-” 

"We'll figure that out, honey. Hey,” you pull him up to your sightline, “You still got me?”

Gloved but no less handsome as ever, Bakugou looks far too dazed to try his hand at driving your bike. Better he crash here, with you. He grabs you close; his answer.

“-- then there’s no complaints here. It’ll work; for now."

He moans kind of high and happy into your kisses on his mouth again. The sound ripples in you, coaxing more love out from your needy fingers and gentle kneading and soft layers that he’s mad he couldn't reciprocate anymore. He voiced this displeasure when he tugged up on your thighs and tipped you onto the bed. Setting a knee between your thighs and capturing a hand in his to pin you, Bakugou firmed up his brows, 

"Well, maybe I wanna feel you BACK, huh?"

"I get that, Katsu-honey~ we'll-- work on it. Learning curve." 

One thing the Hero World would be fast to assume about Katsuki Bakugou is that he'd take whatever he wanted from someone making eyes at him; that he'd be dominant and mean and addictive and that one might regret pushing his buttons in the bedroom, because it would be far too much. ‘Better not test him, he’d be too rough.’ But you hardly think this way, as you have him here:

Here, you look up to him, lovesick and shy, pulling him down because he feels too far away. And tempered as he is when he's in deep, Bakugou reads you and quickly responds in kind. He does kneel over and meets your lips, but freezes like steel as he tries to figure out how to be close but not crush you, despite your yanking for it.

"Katsuki~~"

"I'm not dropping ninety-five kilos a’ dead weight on you, dummy,” he chortled, “Not gonna happen."

"But I want you~~"

"Oh, you want me, huh? Needy girl..." Pets caressing down your cheek, you cup your Katsuki’s arm instead as it trails gingerly down the neck, stopping at your collar, until you force it down its path more towards your chest, and lower. 

His touch carries very little pressure. Rather, you see him just watching his own movements in a haze- "Pretty, pretty girl."

A thought crosses your mind and you feel confident; if you voice it, he’ll answer you honestly. 

"Have you never dated anyone before, ‘Dynamight’?"

Without an immediate defense, you're happy to see he’s still letting you guide his hand to slide under your shirt collar and sift along your bra line. 

Unphased, he answers a gentle -but surprising- ‘no’.

"No high school crushes?" you press, flattered.

"Tch, I went to UA. When would I have had time for that?" Bakugou slides your strap and shirt more to the side as he explores, then kisses the shoulder.

Breathy, you challenge after your happy hums. “Kirishima did..."

He only gave a bemused scoff.

“And look where that got him. Is he anywhere close to being #1?" asks the #5 ranked Pro Hero.

"No,"

Bakugou’s gloved palms have successfully reached your breasts, pulling the rest up and off with confidence now, eyeing over your skin deliciously. 

"Guess who is?"

"Y-you~"

"Damn right." Bakugou licks and teases around the space your nipple would lie under the cup, "And y’know how I did it?"

Sights locked onto him, pulling other side down to sift your underclothes up to his gloved hand's touch.

"I'm a fast learner. That's how you get to be the best. Learn fast, do it right. Gets you results at the top of the board. I'm damn good at learning something I want; 'specially when that something's you."

You can’t keep quiet now. Not at this, your forever favorite Pro Hero undressing you with eyes and hands, 

"Ugh God..."

His hands pawed at every bit of you.

"Name's Katsuki, Angel Eyes. But I'll answer to that if you want~"

Your sexy laugh turned to a moan as he sucked hard at your neck to please you, then worked on getting himself fully topless to match. Once laid back with a delightful little jiggle of everything wonderful, Bakugo's sight lay fixed on you, hands running everywhere he could reach now. 

For once, he looked a little scattered, unsure what to do next besides pet you and breathe.

You teased a leg up his, and tried prying his hard shell open again, "There's no wrong way to play, y'know~"

"Heh?"

"You look like you're working-" you rubbed your own tits, a handful each, "-trying to figure out your next move. But really, there's no bad option. It's just me."

Understanding, he nodded, but still looked conflicted.

"And I don't bite, promise~" you tried for levity, finally making him chuckle a little and bring life to his smirk.

"Y'might as well, looking at me like that."

"What, this?" you kneaded and pushed your tits together.

"Fuck, me..."

"S'what I'm saying."

Then in a sweet move, Bakugou pulls you up to cradle you by your jawline and kisses you lovingly, then holds your foreheads in place while he takes a couple practiced inhales. 

Beneath you, you see how excited he is, but also how tense his core has become. It ever so barely trembles.

A muted string of a confession leaves him, 

"I talk big shit... but... never done this part." –this part being sex, you now gather- "Sue me if I'm tryna do right by you. I- feels like my heart's literally goin’ a mile a minute here, what the hell..."

"Mine too~" you run a soothing drag of your nails up his arms before smoothing up and over to his waist, "You are doing right by me, though~ just go with what feels right. I just want you, Kats."

"Yeah?"

"I want you,” you assure him with charged-up love and desire for him, “-so bad."

That was seemingly all he needed to clear his head because he fell right down to you, crawling beside you and scooping you up into his arms where he could trail his hand all up the expanse of your back. Somewhere in there, he slipped off your pants and took the chance to feel all up and down your legs with greedy chuckles.

He'd moan what a gorgeous sight and gentle thing you were, his mouth leaving no limb untouched or unpraised. He's also high on the attention you gave him right back, especially when you tipped him onto his back and kissed along the lines of his chest. Bruises and dips mark up his otherwise perfect skin, but you're pleased to have your Katsuki enjoying this if his sighs are any indication of his arousal. 

Bakugou quirks a brow as he settles back, preparing for you to mount and have your way with him. Consent is king and he doesn't wanna force you to be in a position you don't want.

“Y’want me here?” he asks with hands supporting your waist. “Show me how it's done?”

The sight below you has you ready to pass out on the spot. He’s handsome and horny and all yours.

"Ready when you are~" 

The line between Dynamight and the man behind the title is blurred as he settles into a cocky smirk. He's proud and never one to shy away from attention- not even this, so it seems. 

Bakugou chips his chin up at you with his full support. 

"Atta girl~" 

You whimper when you grind on top of him at first: not simply at how hot the first pass is for you after so long, but how wrecked Bakugou looks as he exhales with force. It's an effort to will himself still, and you love the look of it on him. 

Pride surges in you as you sway yourself over him, checking him over and making sure he's comfortable. 

“You got me?”

His sights open again, to you in all your glory. Any edge he carries in his waking hours is gone as he's let comfort and ease take the wheel over his nervous system. 

Bakugou is pretty damn adorable this way, but you'd only ever say so when he's fully confident- not out on a limb trying something this new with you for the first time. Here, you'd build up his confidence and see how he rises to the challenge. But you’ll go slow, above all else.

Fingers find renewed life as he squeezes you,

“I got you,” he says in wonder, getting there, “I gotcha." 

But right before you lifted up to let him shove his waistline down, he stopped you from sitting with a hard hand at your tummy. In a quick switch, he's cursing nervously about needing to wrap it up. 

Before he could toss you off, you brought his face back to you with a tender hand, keeping him from getting up altogether and bolting for his bag slung somewhere in the kitchen. 

"I'm covered on that front, hon,” you stifle any laughing at his earnest pursuit, “Planned a bit ahead- got in with the nurse a few months back."

Bakugou stills, but then his confusion and concern give way to something deeper. He’s looking at you, awed. 

"You're on it-?"

"Mhm. I'm all set, baby. There's no one else, just– just you. I won't stop ya if you'd feel better with one on, just wanted you to know. " 

Fondness for the hero-turned-friend-turned-lover made you rake your fingers through that mess of blond hair you daydream of petting and bringing out a groan from him all by yourself, 

"However you want me: inside or out~"

Recognition heats him up more, "You sexy, fuckin' girl..."

Catching you back in his arms, Bakugou falls in love all over again. He’s sinking into you sideways, hiking your leg up and over his hip and just holding you close– your man is all in for this the moment he's submerged in you.

"FUUUUUuuuuuck yehehehess…”

You're overwhelmed and giddy and full, and find that it's not just you who's laughing by the time you make eye contact. It's thrilling and perfect that you're here -doing it- and you’re obsessed with how close you two are in this moment that it makes your relief palpable and light-hearted. 

After heated kisses to get him to actually start moving, you're turning every laugh into a love-filled moan: a sound that Bakugo chases with everything in him. 

Eventually the momentum is like a run, fueling him with the more he hears, and is soon tipping you back to settle on top himself-- in charge and letting you take backseat. By how you gawk up at the show of strength, it’s more than alright with you~

"Oh my God, yes sir!!" you squeal seeing him in charge.

"Yeah? Like this, pretty girl?” Bakugou is in his element, despite having just joined the party moments ago, “Y’like your ‘Backpack’ on top, makin sure you don't move a fuckin’ muscle?"

Each huff and moan he makes glues your sights to the spot- head dipping to where you are slamming together, which only makes him ramp it up even more to give you a show.

‘Yeah yeah yeah-- oh FUCK, why haven't I gotten my head out of my ass sooner, you are FUCKING incredible!--’

The sounds Bakugou’s making are passionate and raw, even more so as you're close and you tell him so through near tears. You’re about to cum, embarrassingly fast for you- but then why wouldn't you when the sight of the love of your life is rocking your world off its hinges and sending you into the best headspin?

"Do it baby, do it do it do it~" he growls the freedom deliciously to you– so you will your hand to let go of the comforter and start rubbing your clit wildly to get you over the edge, till you're bucking up and siezing through relieved sobs. 

Bakugou almost damn near chokes on his own shock at the feel, yet only slows a little bit while he holds you down, holds you through it. Once you’re reaching up for his shoulders again -your cue that you're ok and settled - he dives down to your level for some hard kisses as a reward.

Somehow he breaks from the haze of you deliriously giggling for him soon enough, gasping out  desperate lines that nearly made your heart explode– all while going right back to fighting like mad to go over the edge like you did.

“Fuck, I love you.. fuck, I love you, fuck fuck fuck–”

The closer he gets, the hand pinning yours to the bed starts to burn– which takes your attention.

From watching him fuck you to check your joined wrists is more urgent: Bakugou’s forearm is trembling and visibly sweating all down to the cuff absorbing the rest.

Pretty much sobered you right up by the incoming pain, you're surprised, but you fake it in your bliss and rush him along anyway, until he cries out and shudders into your neck as he finishes– kissing it lightly in thanks muttering all sorts of nonsense you couldn't make out once he sinks onto you- spent.

“Fun, right baby?”

Bakugou’s grunting at every little move of his body.

“S’... M’dizzy,” he rasps, “S’it always dizzy?”

Under a spell yourself, unearth some spare sass n’ sweetness from your back pocket, 

“When it's good,” you give your valid opinion, your free hand making your mark along his arm to settle him down, “when they listen to what you need, n’ when they can provide- even before any clothes come off. I find it best that way, that is…”

Bakugou’s head lolls to the side, pressing a kiss to the tender space just in front of your ear.

“That it is…”

Your palm is pulsing. Hot. But still, you let him find rest, wondering more if he was ok since he was never EVER this gushy, but as his release turned into relieved laughs, Bakugou bridged over you to blow your hair back with a playful gust of his lips and gave you some more indulgent kisses. Sweet as ever, you kissed him back and pressed into his thumb working over your still joined hands.

"You like me~" you taunted.

"huh?~~”

"Y’said you loved me..."

Katsuki giggled, "Shuddup, dummy."

This prompted your tug to free your hand again, hissing when he released and revealed your palm: tinged with an onset of a blister, splotchy with heat–

"THE FUCK??!!” Bakugou noticed the damage himself, “DAMMIT, why didn't you SAY I was cooking you alive??" 

At his apology ridden eyes, you didn't want this hiccup to stall the moment you'd just shared. Flexing each of your hands easily, you shook off any look of pain and beamed up at him instead. 

"You weren't! It just got a lil hot~" he looked at your face again, confused as to why you're not upset at his repeat offense, "BBQ, amiright?" 

Your no-longer sweetheart growls down at you, textbook Bakugou BiteTM.  "NOT. funny." 

You laughed at the nature of it all. 

"I'm ok, baby. Whew... Oh my God~"

Your relief is something fuzzy and delighted to you, but knowing how your darling Katsuki gets in his own head about how fiery his quirk can be, you give him a little wink to quell any fears. 

It works, as your assurances always do. He admires your sated bones and lays another sloppy smooch on you. A silent promise; he’ll take a look at your hand in a bit. 

In moving up your body to reach his shirt to wipe himself with, he slipped out, still hot and heavy (given that he came already) and undeniably turned on- even in this state. You cringed at the mess hitting the cooler air. Hearing your complaint, Bakugou pecked your cheek and nuzzled you back adoringly. 

"Love you, angel.”

"I love you too~" your easy reply passes your lips wistfully.

A dry ache in his chest, he made to rise and see about getting you two a little more comfortable, feeling that same wetness too and grumbled about washing his damn hands, but you stopped him with a little whine.

"Stay~~" 

Crimson eyes softening to yours, the boyish charm returns to Bakugou’s otherwise stoic demeanor. It's a sign he’s clearly plagued in an afterglow buzz.

"Cmon, lemme clean us up. I need the fan on." 

Even colder? Darn his body temp. "Nnng.." 

He gets up anyway, but promises his return with a chip to your chin, "I'll stay, gorgeous. Told you so. I'll stay as long as you want tonight." 

When he came back with the wet washcloth, he coaxed you to stand on your own and go take care of yourself, too. The top sheet is changed and re-tucked in before you got back– mismatched from what remained on the bed before, but you didn't really care. 

He’s made himself comfortable in the bed, only slipping on his boxers you can barely catch the edge of from the sheet in his lap. It’s only made you fold all over again- proof that your boyfriend knows where you keep your spare sheets in the first place. 

You slipped on a fresh pair of panties in your pit stop, but went hunting for your loose shirt again, not bothering with anything under. This got Bakugo's attention seems,

"What, you cold?"

"Little bit~"

"M’over here, then," he patted his chest, you joined him, only to have him sneak his arm under your shirt and tease your tits again, "Don't see why you need this shitty thing while I'm around, just gettin' in my way.."

Giggling and sinking into him, you couldn't fault him. He did have to stay gloved for so long earlier. You laid a kiss straight on his cheek while he had his fill of you.

"Happy girl?" he sings down to you.

Happy girl indeed. "Mhm~ Happy Murder God?"

"Heh-yeah,” Bakugou schooled his breaths to sync to you, “I could get used to this."

"We'll figure out the glove thing."

"...M'sorry for almost toasting you.”

“Eh- I can handle a little snap-crackle-pop.”

Bakugou snorts, tapping out the jingle beat for ‘rice crispies’ on your shoulder. All's forgiven on that front. 

“Really shoulda thrown those in the washer," he grimaced above you, looking over at the door where he set them back with his riding gear. 

"We'll get it later," You snuggled down in his arms, happy to take his leftover heat. “Washer’s all yours~”

"Yeah. Yours is better than mine anyway,” Bakugou leans his head fully back onto your propped up pillows. A contented sigh forces the rest of his muscles to lax. “--piece of crap rattles like it's about to blow up. Yer dishwasher’s better too.”

As he chatters away, he played with the ends of your hair absently. 

“I thought you were my dishwasher?”

Bakugou pauses his twirls, “Oi, I never said I was signing up for that! I was bein’ nice.”

“Yes, you were~” you kissed his neck to force his rising growl down. Works every time. You're back to snuggling in his arms with a contented sigh. “I’ll do them next time.”

“If you’re fast enough, slowpoke, then sure.”

You can barely make out your washer thrumming in the next room as well as the even more distant smooth jazz channel streaming from the living room, but remembered your earlier mindset and just hugged him tighter.

This, you'd certainly miss when he went home tonight. Feeling this close, this warm together, having shared something really special and intimate that you couldn't take back for the life of you. It might make things even worse when it comes to your attachment to him– you two are pushing it at the agency with minimal touches unless there's something really scary that forces his walls down in order to comfort you- or vice versa. After all, your affinity for one another is no one’s business but your own… but you typically are satisfied by his more public ties to you in all the ways that matter- mostly to others in your circle and strangers who he threatens to kick if they keep starin’ at you.

But here, Katsuki holding you is second nature. His true nature. He tells you he cares with every returned text, knowing look, and tender touch he keeps limited in shared company- with you as the sole recipient. 

You can only wish this could be your life everyday. Where you can maybe even start your own agency down the line somewhere; Japan’s first true power couple who can take names like none other. Launch yourselves higher and higher, work yourselves out of a job, and take a retirement in whatever way looks best for you–

When you get quiet in your thoughts, he even knows your 'hiding' tell. Your pillow tilts down to try and get your attention, finally demanding your eyes with a question laced with clear thinking,

"You meant stay stay,” Bakugou asked gently, “-didn't you. Not just- for the night.” 

You softened… nodding ever so much. Leaving room, in case he didn't agree.

What you wouldn't give for him to be your meal prep partner till you both retire from hero work- and then some.

Either nothing went through his mind, or one singular anthem bounced around in there, because all Bakugou did to your little melting expression was kiss you softly, turning you back into the bed, and flopping solidly on top of your chest.

"...gimme 30 minutes. Then let's go get my shit. I call the front room work table."

You're over the moon, and your jaw drops on its own. He’s so ready- barely even thought it through! Or maybe… he was always thinking of it, and was waiting on you.

With that excitement flooding you, you peppered his hair full of kisses until he groaned for you to stop– only after the first ten...

[avatar-anna]

please please pleeeeeease more of assistant×harry!! 🥺

Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist

August 2013

In just a year of being Harry Styles’ assistant, Y/n had seen a lot, experienced a lot, and learned to expect just about anything, which was why her head began to throb before they even touched down in Las Vegas.

“Here,” a voice said from above her. Y/n was supposed to be answering emails and prepping for all the appearances Harry was supposed to make before the jet landed, but she decided to close her eyes. Just for a few minutes. Not that anyone would’ve noticed, anyway. The boys were all hanging out in the back of the plane, and Natalie, Zayn’s assistant, was watching the boys to make sure they didn’t get into too much trouble. All the assistants took turns when the boys of One Direction were in a confined space together; tag teaming just seemed the fairest deal.

When she peeked an eye open, though, she was surprised to see Harry standing beside her seat, a mug in his outstretched hand. Smiling, she took it, watching through tired eyes as he sat down across from her. He was in a red flannel shirt, though it was hardly buttoned, and the black skinny jeans he’d taken to wearing almost the entire tour. He had multiple pairs, all the same exact brand and style, just in case one ripped. Y/n would know. She had to race all over Manhattan when that very nightmare happened and Harry didn’t have any backups. Now there were at least four in his suitcase at all times. And an extra one in her backpack just to be safe. Harry swore the bag that followed her everywhere was made of magic because her whole life—and his—was nearly placed in there. But Y/n knew it wasn’t magic, she was just prepared for everything.

“I told the boys we’d be on our best behavior while we’re here. Just for you,” Harry said, giving Y/n his most innocent grin.

She’d seen that grin too many times to believe him, but the sentiment was nice. He and the boys were never menaces to her or the other assistants per day, but their antics did make her life more difficult depending on what they got up to. “That’s sweet of you.”

“I’m a sweet guy,” Harry said with a grin. Then with a nod toward Y/n’s phone, he asked, “Who’re you texting over there?”

“I’m not texting anyone. I’m sending emails,” she said.

“What? Even while we’re in the air?” he asked incredulously. “Do you ever not work?”

Y/n grinned. “Of course.”

“Well then put the phone down and talk to me. I feel like I've known you forever but I don't actually know you” Harry said, and it sounded like he was almost whining.

Y/n looked up from her phone. Harry’s eyes were pleading as he leaned forward in his seat. She was honestly a little surprised that he was so insistent that she talk to him. He was always nice of course, and they’d had brief conversations that didn’t involve work here and there, but Harry didn’t know much about Y/n personally. She kept her personal life private for the most part, for no other reason than she liked to keep things professional while she was working.

Setting her phone down, Y/n crossed her leg over the other and looked at Harry expectantly. "Alright. What would you like to know?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Y/n choked on the tea Harry had given her. "That's the question you want to start with?"

Harry shrugged before leaning in playfully. "Are you avoiding the question?"

"No. To both questions," she answered honestly.

"Hm."

"Hm? What's that supposed to mean?" Y/n asked. She thought they were having a lighthearted conversation but Harry looked contemplative.

"Why not?" he asked, not answering her question.

Y/n ran a tired hand over her face. "This is starting to feel like an interrogation, Mr. Styles."

"Sorry, sorry, I don't mean to pry," he said, leaning back in his seat. The playful gleam in his green eyes told Y/n differently, though. "I just feel like you know a lot of intimate details about my life, and all I know is that you like cinnamon bagels and have an affinity for wearing black. And you always manage to wake up before I do, which just seems outrageous to me sometimes."

Y/n pondered what he said and supposed he had a point. She did know a lot about Harry's relationships, or the intimate details of his life he referred to based on his line of questioning. But it was her job to know. She made sure he was up and ready each day, she ensured that no one night stands overstayed their welcome or helped themselves to his clothes after he was gone; she was privy to his PR dates and the ones he wanted no one else to know about. Their... relationship was one sided, and Y/n didn't fault him for his curiosity.

"You know how I take my tea, and that I drink tea at all," she finally said, her voice light.

Harry smiled, as if he'd been waiting to engage in whatever game he'd been trying to play with her since he sat down across from her. "I noticed you reach for the tea packets whenever we fly."

"It relaxes me," Y/n admitted.

"Do you not like flying?"

Y/n shrugged, trying to act more casual than she felt. "It's mostly the takeoff and landing. I don't know it just...freaks me out a little. All the jostling and pressure and whatnot."

"You picked a strange job if you don't like to fly, I'm afraid," Harry said.

"Hence the herbal tea. I'd take something a little stronger if I didn't think you boys would do something the minute my eyes were closed."

"We wouldn't—I would never—You can take a nap around us, Y/n," Harry said, frowning as if he were truly offended by what she said. "I know we like to pull pranks or whatever, but we wouldn't. I wouldn't let them do that to you."

His sincerity was sweet, his gaze hard and imploring. Y/n didn't mean for their conversation to turn down this route but somehow it did, and she couldn't help but notice how angular Harry's features were when he looked at her like that. Protective.

Something light and airy unfurled in her belly that she pointedly ignored.

"I was mostly kidding, but thank you."

And just like that, the hard look was gone, the tense fog lifted. Harry grinned and reached in his back pocket, pulling out a deck of cards. “Play with me?”

“You don’t want to play with the boys?” Y/n asked, genuinely curious.

“I need to practice for this weekend, and they’re not good enough competition.”

“Oh, and I am?” she said. Y/n knew how to play cards, but she wasn’t any kind of pro.

"We're about to find out."

Harry set the cards on the table between them and split the deck to shuffle them. Y/n watched his hands as the cards shuffled between his long, nimble fingers. There were calluses on them now from learning to play the guitar. He was a couple months in, and he was already pretty good. Harry often played the new songs or chords he learned for her, eager to show his progress and knowing she wouldn’t judge him when his fingers slipped from time to time.

When he finally stopped, Y/n realized she’d been openly staring at his hands for a little too long. She snapped her head up, thankful that Harry hadn’t caught her staring. Shuffling around in her seat, she asked, “What are we playing?”

*.*

Later that night, Y/n was alone in her hotel room. One Direction’s performance in Las Vegas went off without a hitch, and the boys had hit the Strip to celebrate. Harry insisted she join them, promising a night she would never forget, but she declined. She had plans of her own tonight.

Finishing the last touches on her hair and giving herself one last check in the mirror, Y/n grabbed her keys and her purse. A knock on the door sounded, and thinking it was Natalie, Y/n rushed to open it. When she did, her eyes widened.

“Mr. Styles? What are you doing here?”

Harry was in fact standing on the other side of her door, a bottle of champagne in one hand and the same deck of cards they’d played with on the plane in the other. They'd played until it was time for landing. Y/n had a large pile of candy by the end of it—Harry had wanted to play with real money but Y/n joked she couldn't afford to play real poker with him. And as the plane started to descend, Harry switched seats so that he was beside her, offered his hand for her to squeeze until the plane finally touched down. It had been the most tension-free landing of the tour for Y/n, and though neither of them said anything about it, Harry knew she was grateful for him being there.

He looked sheepish now as he took her in, the realization that she was on her way out striking him as he saw her clothes—a pair of jeans and a black button down top that was only buttoned in the middle, and black boots to match.

“Sorry, I wasn’t feeling up for going out tonight, so I came down here to—but of course you have plans. It’s your night off, you’re allowed to—”

“Is everything okay, Mr. Styles?” you asked with a furrowed brow. “Did you need me to call a doctor? Run down to the pharmacy? I can—”

“No, I…I came here to—to play cards again, but if you already have plans I won’t get in your way.”

Y/n’s head tilted to the side, partly confused and partly endeared. Harry was a kind boss, but he’d never come to her hotel room to hang out before, especially when parties and liquor were guaranteed elsewhere. The time she spent with him was strictly professional.

“Natalie and I had planned to go out tonight,” she said, looking down at her purse.

Y/n didn’t often go out while on tour, but Natalie knew someone that could get them into some exclusive rooftop bar with discounted drinks. She hadn’t had a night off in a while and thought it would be a fun and responsible way to spend her time in Vegas. But now that Harry was here…

“I can cancel—”

“Don’t you dare,” Harry said, stepping away from the door. His eyes trailing up and down her body in a way that didn’t feel entirely professional. A look Y/n chose to ignore. “I should’ve asked you earlier.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you could always come with us,” Y/n said.

She wasn’t sure how Natalie would feel about that. Her friend had made it clear that she wanted a night away from the boys of One Direction so she could let loose a little. But she didn’t want to just leave Harry on her doorstep.

“No, no, you go. I’m not in a partying mood tonight,” Harry said, waving Y/n off.

“If you’re sure,” she said.

“I’m sure.”

“Next time, then,” she offered.

Harry smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Then, before she could say anything else, Harry fished his wallet out of his back pocket. He pulled out a couple bills and handed them to her. Y/n tried to protest, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, making sure he watched her put the money in her purse. “And take my driver too. There’s a lot of creeps out there. Dominic will take good care of you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles,” Y/n said graciously.

“No problem, Y/n, and for the last time, it’s Harry.”

Y/n grinned as she let the door shut behind her. “Whatever you say, Mr. Styles.”

*.*

Y/n trudged through the halls of the lavish hotel, her boots shuffling tiredly across the carpet. She’d had a good night, but when Natalie and a group they’d met at the bar wanted to move onto a club, Y/n decided it was time to go. She had her fun, but she wasn’t the clubbing type, and she had to be up early the next morning.

And she couldn’t help but think about Harry sitting around in his hotel room all alone. She spent nearly every waking moment with him, and yet on her night off, she felt the need to go see him, be with him. Y/n enjoyed hanging out with Harry on the plane to Vegas. It had been the first time they’d interacted with each other in a non-professional way. He told her goofy jokes and playfully tried to peek at her cards, a look of genuine surprise when she beat him on more than one occasion.

For a moment, Y/n had actually forgotten that he wasn’t her boss and that she wasn’t his assistant. For a moment, they were just two friends going on a trip somewhere.

And for whatever reason, Y/n wanted to revisit that moment. She bypassed her floor’s button on the elevator, opting to press the one a few levels up from hers. The hall was quiet, which made sense if the other boys were still out. Harry told Y/n earlier that he wanted a quiet night in, but as she approached his door, she heard music and muffled voices from the other side. She had his extra key and would’ve been able to enter no problem, but when she made it to the double doors of Harry’s suite, she elected to knock. Maybe she should’ve left when she realized he had company, but she stayed, eager to see him for some reason.

It took a minute or two for someone to answer. With the music so loud, Y/n wasn’t surprised no one could hear her knock. She nearly gave up after knocking a third time, the door finally opened.

“Can I help you?”

It was a young man. A handsome young man with short brown hair and freckles over his nose and a deep skin tone. His eyes looked droopy, like he’d woken up just to answer the door. Or had recently smoked a joint. The latter was more likely.

“I’m Mr. Styles’ assistant. I just thought I would check in. He has an early morning tomorrow.”

“Oh. Um…He’s…busy?” the man said, clearly not wanting the fun to stop. “Should I get him for you?”

Y/n had never been in this predicament before. Sure, she knew Harry occasionally liked to invite someone into his hotel room for a night of fun, and this wasn’t the first time she’d found another boy keeping him company in this way. The first time that happened, Harry wouldn’t meet her eye for a whole day, but she never judged him for it, and she never said a word of it to him or anyone else. That was his personal business, not hers.

So the boy wasn’t what caught her off guard. It was that he was awake. Y/n always interacted with Harry’s one, sometimes two, night stands the morning after, equipped with a pen and an NDA, and possibly a sharp wit, depending on how reluctant the individual was to leave. But she’d never been in this position before, in the middle of it. She felt embarrassed, at a loss for words.

“N—No,” she finally said. “He just told me he wasn’t feeling well earlier. I thought I’d check on him before heading to bed, but…it seems like he’s feeling better.”

That’s and understatement, Y/n thought. She felt disappointed for some reason. She knew she shouldn’t have, but she really thought Harry would want to hang out, that he would somehow be waiting for her to come back, which was stupid. He had no reason to.

Y/n finally started to shuffle away, leaving Harry and his companion to his own devices. The door shut after the young man gave her a small smile and a wave, leaving her alone in an all too quiet hallway, the sounds of their voices muffled by the thin walls.

Sleep was in order. She knew that she was probably having an off day. Too much traveling, no doubt. Harry wasn’t her friend. She was his assistant, hired by his management team to make sure his every need and whim was met and sought to. Tomorrow she would wake up and remember that.

*.*

The next morning when Y/n stepped onto the plane, Harry was already seated in her little corner of the jet, a deck of cards, two steaming mugs, a multitude of snacks, and a big blanket were waiting. He didn't say anything about last night, so she didn't either. Not a word was said at all during takeoff, Harry merely offered his hand again, and when the plane was leveled in the air, he took out the deck of cards.

"Up for another round? This time Oreos are on the line so I'm less inclined to lose."

After that, plane rides weren't so bad anymore.

[allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover]

DATING DEAN WINCHESTER HEADCANONS

Dean is the guy who'd pretend that he's the best in the entire universe, but he'll get nervous if he ever sees someone slightly more attractive than him.

He loves to watch movies with you, even more so if they're of his choice. Cuddling on the couch in the Bunker and watching a movie is his favourite evening activity, and he's constantly looking at your face throughout the movie to see if you like it or not.

Dean doesn't want you to accompany him on hunts, especially if the creature you have to hunt happens to be particularly dangerous, like a vampire or a werewolf.

He'll never try to control you, but he will get insanely protective of you and you have had many arguments based on that.

Arguments that almost always get resolved by angry sex or intense makeout sessions.

But for the ones that don't, you two eventually find your way back to each other.

He'll never admit it, but he loves it when you treat him with affection and give him flowers.

If it wasn't obvious, Dean is touch-starved, and you figure it out very soon into your relationship. You make sure to give him reassuring touches ever so often, especially in the times of stress.

Dean is very grateful for those touches, and keeps reciprocating the gesture, but in a much wilder way.

He is very possessive, and will glare daggers at anyone who stares at you for too long. Men who know him know how dangerous he is, and how well he can fight, so they stay away from you. But the strangers who try to look at you in any way other than respect, Dean will not hesitate to throw punches.

For all his playboy ways, he's extremely loyal to you. Will not even look at any other girl when you're in the picture. You're the only one he wants and needs.

Dean likes to pull pranks on you. They're harmless, obviously. He loves to see that adorable expression on your face when you don't know what's wrong when you're being pranked. Once you realise it however, it doesn't take a lot of time for that expression to go from adorable to angry.

You love to pull pranks on him as well, often teaming up with Sam to teach his older brother a lesson. Sam loves it, and though Dean pretends to be angry and offended, he's laughing on the inside.

Frequent rides in the Impala, especially when it's drizzling and a cool breeze is blowing. He just likes to go on long drives with you, no distance is too long with you by his side.

Dean tells you stories of his childhood, yes, even the bad ones. The good ones to get a good laugh while the bad ones for you to get more acquainted with his reality, to know who he really is.

He had taken a lot, and I mean a LOT of time to open up emotionally, it was extremely difficult for him to not be guarded at all times. But nothing is too difficult when it comes to you.

Now, he opens up to you and talks to you about how he feels, instead of hiding his real emotions behind corny jokes and sarcasm.

Whenever you get mad at him, he immediately gets to know and tries his best to make sure that you aren't mad, the process including more corny jokes but you learned to love them anyway.

Sam loves the way you have a positive effect on his brother, how you calm him down from both anger and stress, how you make him less reckless and more affectionate.

The most important thing however, is the fact that you make him less self-destructive. He takes a lot of care of you, but along with you, he has started to learn how to cherish and love himself as well.

You bring out the best in him, and he brings out the best in you.

You're his yin, and he's your yang. Both of you wouldn't have it any other way.

[rosenclaws]

Hi!!! I love your writing so much <3<3

I was wondering if you had any thoughts about taking Leopold's virginity? Because I saw you mention that you think he might be a virgin :))

HI YES I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS!!

This is with an afab!reader who is not a virgin in mind but no pronouns are used.

warnings: MINORS DNI!! oral (m and f receiving), soft sex, leo being a bit of a switch/sub

Leopold’s first time headcanons

Okay so Leo is a virgin but because he’s a prude or because there isn’t anyone who wants to sleep with him. I mean damn the first scene of the movie is girls basically fawning over him lol. I think he views sexual intimacy as something that needs to be cherished.

It should be something romantic. A true, deep connection between two people who have given their hearts to each other and Leo has never felt that way until you.

When it comes to Leo’s first time I think there's a lot of lead up. Like a nice dinner and a bath together maybeee. Candles, I mean the whole thing.

Its slow and sweet and a little awkward but the kind of awkward that makes the two of you laugh in each others arms.

You 100% suck him off to start. I mean he’s gorgeous, so pretty and handsome that he deserves to get his dick sucked u know what I’m saying.

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands at all. Like he doesn’t know if he should touch you, touch himself. They keep moving. First they’re gripping the sheets, then they’re above his head clenching into fists, and finally you guide his hands to the sides of your head. Winking as you pick up your pace.

He also is a little loud. He tries at first to suppress his noises but he can't help it. His moans are heavenly. So desperate. He whimpers too btw. Like 100% that is a man who whimpers.

He doesn’t last long. Look Leopold is no stranger to. Getting himself off but this is unlike anything he’s ever felt before. So warm and wet and your hands are on his thighs and its a sensory overload that he can’t help but come hard in your mouth.

Even though it's his first time he really really wants to go down on you. He wants to make you feel good so badly. To make you moan because of him.

He's a little hesitant at first, not sure what to do but after some coaxing he dives right in. At first you think he's a dirty fucking liar about never doing this before because holy shit he is filthy without even trying.

Sloppy and wet and needy as hell as he buries his face in your cunt. He listens eagerly to all your instructions. What you like, what you don't like. He plans on studying you until he remembers every little thing that drives you insane.

HE LOVES TO BE CALLED A GOOD BOY!! I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. He has a praise kink too. Loves to talk about how wonderful you are, how good you taste, how lucky he is. Oh my god call him a good boy and tug on his hair and he's a fucking goner.

"Such a good boy, so pretty."

He loves eating pussy btw. Like he's can't help himself and slowly humps the bed as he feels himself start to get hard again. He could live between your thighs.

Anyways when it comes to actually having sex you ride him for the first time. Wanting to give him nothing but pleasure. He watches with wide eyes as you sink down on his cock. He needs a second to just process it all. His arms wrapped around you, face buried in your chest as he slowly rolls his hips.

It's slow for the first time. You just riding him nice and slow as you whisper sweet things into his ear. He can't stop telling you how much he loves you. How happy he is. He can't get enough of you, especially when you moan his name. (He's def whimpering again)

After a little bit he'd switch positions to be on top. Missionary but he's got one leg hooked on his shoulder. His hips move slow but get harder with every thrust. Your nails dig into his back with every thrust and it turns him on a little more.

He's kissing every bit of skin he can while he's making love. He loves your neck. The whole experience is just overwhelming to him. It's amazing and wonderful but overwhelming. Every one of his senses are being overloaded with you and he can't get enough.

He makes sure you finish before he does of course. Asking you in a desperate tone what you need and how he can do it for you. Begging you to finish because he's going to explode soon.

"Please, please my love. Tell me what to do. Need to feel you."

When he finishes he (reluctantly) comes on your stomach, rolling over onto his back for a minute. He needs to catch his breath, a smile on his face that won't go away. He just feels completely blissed out.

When you try to move he stops you, wanting you to stay comfortable as he goes to get a towel to clean you up. Kissing every inch of you as he does so. Thanking you for this and telling you how much he loves you. He just can't help himself.

He falls asleep pretty quickly after. Holding you close in his arms as the exhaustion takes over.

It's a pretty soft and sweet first time, fueled by love. Leopold is gentle and kind and I think this is the perfect time to for him to show that in a more intimate setting.

Anyways I am obsessed with Leopold he deserves the world okay ty!!!

[carnelianly]

this post contains noncon! please don’t read if that will be upsetting! i would never promote this in real life, and people, men or women, are always unable to consent to any kind of contact while intoxicated!

art is your friend. not your boyfriend. not your dog that you can tug around on a leash like you seem to think you can. he has a girlfriend. he’s madly in love with her. he doesn’t want you. sure, he can acknowledge that you’re pretty and he can tell himself, in the comforts of his own head ‘if i were single, i’d.. definitely go for her’. in another life, maybe he was yours. not in this one.

but he was invited out to the bar by patrick who also invited you and a couple other friends and he doesn’t mind your presence at all. you’re.. you’re nice enough. you may make him a little nervous when you smile like that, but that’s not for him to say. he keeps himself polite but distant in conversation with you.

he drinks a little too much. patrick always suggests shots and what is art supposed to do? say no? look like a pussy?

he downs them anyway, one after another until it’s two hours later and he forgets he’s barely eaten much all day and there’s so much alcohol in his system that he can’t stand up straight.

not to worry, you’re them to catch him before he falls over. patrick and the others are off talking about some nonsense, but you’re being so nice and helpful, you wipe the drool from his chin and fix his hair and he smiles faintly at you in gratitude.

you smile back at him, one arm holding him up since he’s not stable enough to stand on his own, half leaning on the bar counter and half relying on you to keep him up. your other hand is… art isn’t really paying attention. feels weird, though. it’s between his thighs, rubbing the skin softly, almost teasingly. art isn’t coherent enough to understand what’s happening.

you’re smiling at him, telling him everything is gonna be fine, because it will be. everything will be okay. he doesn’t have to worry, you’ll take care of him, keep him safe. there’s so many bad people in this world that might try to hurt him, steal his wallet, take advantage of him. you’re not like that. you’re just gonna keep talking to him like this until it’s time to leave and then you’re gonna take him home. he’s too drunk to get back to his place by himself, so you’ll just let him stay at yours. so gracious of you.

he listens because he has no other choice, and he’s not as much letting you touch him but not able to stop you. your hand is on his crotch, massaging him through his jeans, and he moans and he falls forward into you, resting his head on your shoulder. he’s weak. unable to do anything but take this treatment. your hand that was keeping him upright moves to his ass, always so plump and thick, god, he obviously does it for his girlfriend but he might as well have done it for you, in this moment.

you could so easily take what you wanted from him, especially because you’re sure he’s about to black out and remember nothing. but you’re a better person than that, you tell yourself. you’re just touching, you’re not gonna break anything.

you end up taking him into the bathroom, and he’s too drunk to know what he’s doing, but hey, he kissed you first, even if he’s tripping over his own feet and practically drooling into your mouth. it’s hot, and you feel him up some more. it feels wrong to fuck him, too permanent. he’d definitely know what happened then. he’s smart when he’s sober, smart enough anyway.

in the end, he’s taken home with patrick and a couple of buddies, taking a shared uber home while art is blacked out, while you go off by yourself.

the next time you see art, he definitely does not remember what happened that night. he does feel a little weird around you, but he can’t quite put his finger on why your presence is so.. uncomfortable all of a sudden…

[yourlittlebunnyy]

mdni!

sub!azriel loves when you use his shadows against him.

sub!azriel who turns in a mess. he would be whining and pleading like a little bitch, too lost in the pleasure to even care.

sub!azriel who fucking whimper when you order them to play with his wings. he's so pathetically close he could cum just like that, in his pants like a young boy.

sub!azriel who can't contain his hands when you free his cock and finally sink down on it. the feeling of your warm walls making him go so stupid that he breaks the rules, touching your hips trying to make you hop like a little bunny.

sub!azriel who realizes just now what he has done. he looks at you with those pretty begging eyes, but you know better than falling for that silly trap of his.

sub!azriel who sob when you get up, a disappointed expression painted on your face makes him wanna kiss you and ask for your forgiveness, but he knows you would punish him anyway.

sub!azriel who is forced to cum without any touch. his shadows keep his hands tied behind hid back while they caress his wings. he is forced to look at you while you play with yourself in front of him. your sex displayed for his hungry eyes and it's so cruel how he can't do nothing but look:( he would do anything for a little taste but he doesn't want to make you even more disappointed:(

main masterlist

[inmyheaddd]

meet me in the afterglow - averyjameson

a/n: this may be my fav averyjameson fic i’ve written 😕 wc: 1.7k warnings: swearing, our fav parents fighting 💔, angst but v fluffy ending i promise!! masterlist

avery sat in her room alone, reading a book to keep herself busy, but she wasn’t actually taking in a single word. 

she usually enjoyed the coldness of her room, but now it was just a bleak reminder that the one person who always radiated warmth and sent jolts through her with his touch wasn’t there with her.

and the worst part, was that it was her fault.

“what do you want me to do, heiress? act like i have it all figured out?” jameson’s voice grew louder, “well i don’t, i can’t just—”

“—just what?” she shot back, “jameson, i never asked you to act or pretend. i don’t need perfect, i don’t even want it. i need real.” her volume began to match his, even though she hated fighting with all her being. 

the moments from last night played on repeat in her mind like a broken record player she couldn’t stop. she chewed on her bottom lip, and before she knew it, her eyes began to sting. 

she wondered what jameson was doing now —drinking? driving at speeds far too high? blacked out? with his brothers? feeling nothing? feeling everything? whatever, she didn’t care. she didn’t care. 

“i need you to stop acting like nothing matters every time things get hard!”

“oh, so staying silent how you do is any better? fuck, avery, i hate to break it to you, but this is the “real” me. as real as it fucking gets.” he said through a force chuckle, letting go of the nickname and using her name instead. “if thats too much for you, or— or, or not enough for you, maybe you should just walk away.“ 

without realizing, another tear fell onto the page on her book, and it was like the boiling point for her. 

slamming the book shut and chucking it across her room, her hands came to cover her face as she sobbed, and she brought her knees up to her chest. 

she was muffling her sobs like she’d gotten so used to doing when she was growing up, so no one would hear her, but there was no one there to hear her now anyway. 

he took a step back, running a hand through his hair frustratedly as avery blinked back angry tears. “jameson, don’t even say that to me.” her voice quivered, but she wouldn’t let a tear drop. “don’t you dare look for the easy way out. you’re a hawthorne, aren’t you? the easiest answer is never the right one — you’re the one that told me that.” 

she trudged her way out of her room to the kitchen, after angrily wiping at her tears and staring at her reflection for far too long. 

she revised over all the things she would say to jameson when she saw him again, how sorry she was, how she never meant any of it, how she was so out of her mind.

jameson laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “avery, none of this is easy." his eyes met hers, his voice colder than she’d ever heard it. “you want someone i can’t be. you want a version of me that doesn’t exist. i can’t change myself no matter how hard i try, and believe me — i have.”

her throat began to tighten as she struggled to keep her composure. “jameson, no. i want you—whatever flaws you think you have and all.” she exclaimed, the next part coming out much quieter than she intended. “but you…” she trailed off, “you don’t even trust me with all of that. why can’t you understand that i love you for who you are? i want to work for us. i know we aren’t perfect, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t something worth trying for.” 

“heiress,” he paused, “trying isn’t working anymore. down the line we’ll both be miserable and you’ll say nothing until we have one of these bursting screaming matches like this again. you don’t deserve it. it’s not worth it.”

it’s not worth it. they weren’t worth it. she wasn’t worth it.

avery swirled the glass of water she filled up as she leaned against the counter, dim low lighting filling the empty kitchen. the freezing water made her feel as cold on the inside as she was outside. 

she finished her glass and made her way out of the kitchen, making a turn to get to the stairs, only to stop in her tracks and stagger back. 

her eyes met familiar green ones with slight bags under them, and an unruly bed of hair that usually looked a little tidier. 

avery was at a loss for words, jameson hawthorne, standing infront of her, giving up because things got too hard?

she scoffed, but she sounded more dejected than she did angry. “fine then. don’t try anymore.” she swallowed, taking in the way jameson’s brows softened and a flash of something passed through his eyes, though she couldn’t quite place it. regret? anger? satisfaction? 

she let her eyes do the talking for a moment before speaking. “you are the most selfish person i’ve ever met.” she added with purpose, every word like a dagger to him. she didn’t wait for anything he had to say, turning on her heels with one last look and walking out of the room. 

jameson called out for her, but she kept walking. her heart beat faster than it ever had before and it was like every inch of her body wanted to turn around and collapse in his arms. 

—to apologize for everything she did and didn’t do, to look into his eyes and see that glitter of love in them, for him to kiss the tears off of her and simply be there.

unfortunately for avery kylie grambs, she didn’t always get what she wanted, and she kept walking forwards. 

avery felt like she had the wind knocked out of her as jameson stood infront of her, breathing heavily as he looked equally as surprised to have found her.

every rehearsed line and practiced speech she had left her mind in that moment. the only thing that rang through it was his name. “jameson,” she said, almost whispering. 

“heiress, wait.” he said, reaching an arm out to stop her leaving— he couldn’t let her go. she wasn’t going to anyway, she felt frozen in place. she also didn’t want to leave.

“i, i don’t know what to say, jameson, i’m so sorry.” she said with a light shake of her head, “i was so out of line last night, and i shouldn’t have—“

he cut her off, “no, avery, let me just say this, please.” he said with pleading eyes. “i think i should be institutionalized with the way i felt like i’ve lost my mind without you. i know i lost my mind last night, that’s for sure.” 

he chuckled nervously, and avery knew jameson hawthorne never got nervous. “avery, you are worth every single thing on this goddamn planet— in the whole universe. i don’t think i could begin to conceptualize a life without you in it. what i said last night? i lied.“ 

he took a deep, shuddering breath in. “i said i couldn’t change for you, but i know that’s not true, because i have— before my own eyes. every waking day i spend with you makes me want to become better, for you, heiress.” 

avery felt her eyes begin to prick with tears once again, but she didn’t feel a single drop of hurt in her body now. “i’ve never felt so deeply devoted and in love with anything in my life before, and that scares me. it scares me in a way nothing has before because i know it’s so real. but im not letting my fears get in the way, not anymore.” 

jameson’s chest heaved as he looked down at avery, “heiress. you don’t have to say anything.” he said upon seeing her glossy eyes.

there was nothing she could say anyway to express the complete enamored feeling she felt when she looked at him, to express how much she loved him. 

she wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, as his arms wrapped around her middle like if he held any looser she would disappear, his head dropping down to her neck.

“i’m so sorry,” avery sobbed into his shoulder, “i love you so much. i’m so in love with you. i couldn’t ever imagine losing what we have.” 

“you won’t ever have to, heiress. i’m staying forever.” he mumbled, as one of his hands came to run through her hair. when she didn’t respond, and he heard her muffled hiccups, he spoke once again. “heiress,” he he lifted his head, his voice low and almost musical. “don’t get all sappy on me now, i much prefer that smile of yours.” 

she sniffled as she let out a little laugh, pulling back from the hug and wiping away at her tears. “shut up.” 

jameson’s smile only grew at the sound of her laugh, and her now slightly red eyes met his. her smile faded for a second before she spoke again, remembering the events that had just happened the day before. 

“jameson, i— you have no idea how sorry i am.” her brows slightly furrowed as she shook her head, echoing her words for earlier.  

he chuckled, reaching his hands out to grab hers, “yeah? i think if you repeat it one more time, i’ll have a pretty good idea.” 

“stop it,” she laughed, “im being serious.” 

“so am i. you don’t have to apologize.” 

“i do, though. and i’m sorry,” 

“if you say you’re sorry once more, i may have to consider bringing you to rehab for people pleasers.” 

“jameson,” avery breathed out through a chuckle, “i just wanted you to know.”

“heiress, i know.” he nodded with a small grin as he brought her closer, and she let go of his hands and brought them to his chest. 

his eyes flickered over her whole face, frequenting back to her lips and eyes, and there was that glitter of love in his that she loved so much.  

“can i kiss you now?” he mumbled.

“you don’t even have to ask.” her voice was barely audible in the small space between them.

he hummed in disagreement as he leaned in, his lips barely touching hers. the mere act made avery feel like she was buzzing alive as her breath caught in her throat. it would never get old.

“i like hearing you want me, like how i want you.” he whispered against her lips, before finally pressing a kiss to them, and they quickly found their rhythm against eachother. 

his hands moved to cradle her face, like he needed her as close to him as humanly possible, his brows knotting deeply as he kissed her.

jameson pulled back ever so slightly, his forehead resting against hers as they both caught their breath. 

his thumb brushed gently across her cheek as he looked at her, his heart leaping at the sight of the her smile.

"see," he murmured, his voice soft, "much better than the sappy stuff."

avery let out a small laugh, feeling light on her toes. she looked into his eyes, feeling the love pouring out of them. “everything is better with you.”  

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @sweetlikeanangel

@littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @tornqdowarnings @maybxlle @sheisntyou

@emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee — if you’d like to be added or removed lmk!

[writeriguess]

Logan x M!Reader with hand tremors? And the fact that they increasingly get shakier when he’s excited about things, or anxious? How would Logan handle that?¿

The day started like any other. You and Logan were walking side by side through the woods, the crunch of leaves underfoot the only sound in the crisp air. It was peaceful, and you’d managed to keep your hands still for most of the morning—no easy feat these days. You felt the familiar twinge as your fingers twitched, but you shoved them into your jacket pockets before Logan noticed. He always noticed, though.

“What’s up with you today?” Logan’s voice broke through the quiet, rough but laced with concern. His sharp blue eyes flicked down to your hands, which you were hiding a little too well. “You’ve been doing that thing where you try not to let me see.”

You sighed, pulling your hands from your pockets. They were trembling now, a little more than usual, and you knew the second Logan saw it, he’d narrow in like he always did.

“It's nothing,” you muttered, but Logan wasn’t having it.

He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His rugged face softened just a bit, a rare sight, but one that made you feel both reassured and on edge. “Bullshit,” he growled, reaching out for your hand.

You hesitated for a second, not wanting him to feel the shaking that had gotten worse over time, but there was no point in hiding. Logan took your hand anyway, holding it between his calloused palms, his touch warm and grounding.

“You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice was lower now, softer in a way only you got to hear. “Your hands have been shaking more lately. When you're excited, when you're anxious…” His thumb traced a circle over the back of your hand, and you couldn’t tell if the gesture was meant to comfort you or him.

The tremors worsened under his scrutiny, and you clenched your fist instinctively, trying to will the shaking to stop. It didn’t.

“I can’t help it,” you admitted, voice tight. “It’s just been… happening.”

Logan frowned, but not in the way you expected. His grip on your hand tightened just a little, steadying the shake with his own strength. “Doesn’t matter,” he said gruffly. “I’ll handle it.”

That was just like him. Logan wasn’t the type to dwell on problems—he solved them or protected you from them. But this wasn’t something he could fix with his fists, no matter how much he wanted to.

“It’s not that simple,” you whispered, your eyes dropping to the ground. “I can’t control it, and it gets worse when I’m around you. When I feel too much.”

Logan's eyebrows shot up at that, and you could see the realization slowly dawn on him. He was part of the reason your hands trembled more, and it wasn’t because of fear or nerves. It was because of everything else he made you feel—excitement, tension, anticipation.

The silence between you was thick, but then Logan huffed, his lips twitching into a smirk. “So it’s my fault, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Partially, yeah.”

Logan’s smirk grew wider, and he stepped closer, towering over you in that familiar, protective way. “Then let me make up for it.” He brought your hand up to his chest, holding it steady against the thrum of his heartbeat. “You feel that? I get worked up around you too, but I keep it steady. We’ll figure this out.”

The warmth from his chest seeped into your hand, and for a moment, the shaking lessened. It was still there, but with Logan’s hand on yours, it didn’t seem as overwhelming.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, voice firm, the usual gruffness tempered by something softer. “Whether your hands are still or shaking like hell. I got you.”

You let out a shaky breath, your chest lighter now that you’d let him in on the thing you’d been hiding. Logan wasn’t one for long-winded speeches, but when he said something, you knew he meant it.

“I know you do,” you replied, squeezing his hand back as steadily as you could.

Logan’s eyes glinted with that familiar intensity as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, the weight of his presence calming the tremors for a moment longer.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[ladymercysletters]

Aegon the Soft

Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count : 1474

Warnings: fluff

A/N: I haven't written in years so please bear with this. I just have some very soft feelings for the Targ siblings. All they need is a hug I SWEAR! anyways, hope you like it

When Aegon first married, he tried to be around you as little as possible. It was best that way, everyone else who should technically love him in his life never has; why would you be any different. The bedding ceremony had been performed; he had done his duty. He must only put a few heirs in you and that would be that. He finished that thought with the downing of his drink. Slamming the cup down on the table his men cheered around him, filling his cup as the merriment continued.

The hour was late, or early – who knew, when Aegon and his men finally dragged themselves back to the Red Keep. Sober knights greeted them and took the prince back to his rooms, depositing him on his bed.

“My Wife! Bring my wife to me!” he shouted, lolling about on his sheets and he struggled to stand.

“My prince, the hour is late an…”

“I know the hour. I said now!”

__________________________________________________________

Was he on a ship. He must be on a ship. His stomach rolled and churned so much it must be the waves on the ocean. Blinking blearily into the sunlight he vaguely felt fingers running through his hair. Aegon finally managed to focus his eyes on his bedside table, and the jug of water placed on it. The soft touch continued to caress his forehead and brush through the silver strands falling in front of his eyes.

“Good morning husband. How are you feeling this morning?” Aegon blinked and his mind cleared slightly. His wife was in his bed. You were stroking his hair from his face and asking if he was well? Thoughts flew through his head and as he jolted from the knowledge you were right behind him, his stomach reminded him of his current state and he rolled ungracefully from the bed. He landed sprawled on the floor causing a sharp gasp to leave your mouth as you watched your severely hungover husband groan and roll around tangled in sheets before moving like a slug to the open doors of his balcony and slamming them close behind him.

You couldn’t see him like this. He hadn’t even managed to face you, but he knew he must look terrible and there was something in him, ridiculous as it may be, that wanted to keep you under the illusion that he wasn’t a complete failure. Once he’d finished evacuating the contents of his stomach off his balcony, and damningly close to his brother who was just making his way onto the training grounds for his morning spar with Cole, he inhaled deeply before steeling himself to walk back inside.

Opening the doors to his rooms, he saw you sitting prettily on the end of his bed. Hair fallen perfectly to frame your face, wearing only in a linen shift you had presumably slept in by his side all night – surely his wife had been carved by angels. Bustling in the room brought him back and he drew the sheets tighter around his waist. Maids flitted in and out, making up the bath and serving breakfast on a table set up at the end of the bed.

“Better?” you said shyly smiling at him. “I thought you might need something to line your stomach – and possibly a bath.” You trailed off. You’re right. He smelled revolting.

He doesn’t quite understand how or why you could be so nice to him, he thinks as he sinks into the steaming perfumed water. Especially as a vague memory of the previous night comes back to him, he’d stumbled back into the keep, pissed as a newt, and demanded you come to him to fulfil your wifely duties. Closing his eyes, Aegon felt his muscles relax in the warmth. Even his head lessened from the soothing lavender scent.

This time he felt your presence behind him before your touch. Softly, again, you carded your fingers through his hair, moving him gently forward so you could wash him. Your gentle touch was so foreign to him. Even when he was washed by the servants, they were never this gentle with him. The warm water cascaded down his back, your fingers working a floral scented soap into his hair and pressing firmly against his scalp. The sensation was heavenly. The warmth of your body surrounded him as you leant him back again to rinse the soap from his hair.

Once he was cleaned you set a small pillow at the back of the tub for him to rest his head on. Though he was a prince he was sure he had never been as pampered as this. He stared up into your face as he leant his head back, taking in the soft fluttering of your eyelashes and the curve of your cheeks and lips.

Though you had been married for over two moons now Aegon didn’t think he had ever really looked at you before now. Surely he would have lingered around you more if he had seen what a beauty he had married. Your mere presence brought him peace, and whilst he could not understand why you were being so kind to him, his heart overstepped his mind and let him live in this fantasy for just a moment longer; practically jumping from his chest when he felt you lay soft kisses along his hairline. Your warm smell invaded his nostrils and his eyes fluttered open to discover your neck and cleavage so close to his face. Your skin looked so smooth, and his lips ached for him to lean closer and place a reverent kiss to your collar.

You took a towel and held it out for him, helping him dry as he stepped out of the tub. His eyes rolled over your body as he dressed, tucking his loose shirt into linen britches as he watched you arrange the chairs around the breakfast table.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” his voice wavered ever so slightly at the question falling from his mouth.

“Aegon?” you replied. Softly breathing his name as you turned to face him. He was sure the sweet sound of your voice confirmed you had been sent from the gods. “I am here to care for you. I am your wife…” His face fell slightly at that, which you saw. Of course you were there for your duty. The thought brought back his words from the previous evening. Wifely duties. You were fulfilling your side of the bargain. “… and I like you.” You finished.

You studied his face as he looked at you. His delicate features held together by perfect milky skin. The rounded cupids bow of his lips forming a soft pout that was hard to resist. Though you’d seen his anger and drunkenness many times since your wedding and heard worse from the ladies of court before your arrival, you’d also seen the small sad look on his face whenever he’d leave a council meeting, or even just at dinner with his family. Although his mother had been nothing but kind and gentle with you, you could see this favour wasn’t extended to her own son, and his grandfather was even worse – openly mocking him with his father, the king when surely, they should have been teaching him.

Thoughts brought you back to reality as you stepped closer to him. Looking into his eyes, the pale violet seeming deeper towards his iris and wider as they searched yours for an answer. You softly took his wrist into your hands, sliding your fingers down to intertwine with his own you placed a small kiss between the crease in his brow.

“I am your wife. I know you did not choose me for love, or choose me at all, but I hope that you will know how much I care for you, and one day maybe you may care for me.” Aegon’s throat almost closed up, and his eyes betrayed him as they began to water. His thumbs barely moved to brush the backs of your hand bringing them up to place a kiss on your knuckles – gently leading you to sit next to him at the end of his bed.

The words struggled to form in his throat; a combination of a hangover and sudden emotion rendering him surprisingly catatonic. Your hand moved to stroke to side of his face, bringing his eyes back to your own.

“I will do my best” he whispered, leaning into the warmth of your palm. “I will do my best for you, and for our line.”

“I know you will. You will prove anyone who doubts you wrong.” You spoke, touching your forehead to his own. His eyes slipped closed once more, happy to bask in the bliss of your presence for as long as the gods would allow him.

[bonezone44]

In a Throuple with Ezra & Frankie:

Frankie has a bad day--comes home from a gig and his hands are shaking. He tries to sit and focus his mind, but he can't. He wants to run. Wants to fight. He wants to freeze himself into something and someone new.

Ezra's learned the signs. He knows how to coax Frankie out of his head and back into his body. He brings Frankie into the bedroom and gets him on the bed. He ties his arms to the headboard and leaves his legs free. Ezra's good at talking and taking up space and Frankie's good at following along.

You come home, tired after your own long shift at work. You see Ezra's hung the "Busy" sign on the bedroom door. It's your cue that... yes, they're busy and yes, you're welcome to join.

You knock on the door and wait for an answer--which Ezra provides.

You walk in and--poor Frankie. Whatever troubles you had in your head have disappeared at the sight of him. He needs you and he needs you immediately. Anything to comfort him and soften all the tension in his body and the fearful voices in his head.

You and Ezra take turns massaging his arms, his legs. Kissing him all over. And his arms are tied--he can't shrug you off like he wants to. But he knows he needs this--he wouldn't submit to you and Ezra otherwise. It's been a long journey between the three of you to understand one another and meet each other's needs.

Ezra appeases Frankie with is voice, his sturdy grip and controlled touches. He knows how to pinch and soothe. How to hurt and heal.

You scratch your nails up and down Frankie's legs. You kiss him on his hairy knees. You lick along the skin of his pelvis--not yet touching his hardened cock or his aching balls.

Ezra's the first to start sucking him off. Dirty words mixed with his dirty mouth. You both take turns pleasing Frankie with your tongues and lips and salivas. Frankie's so desperate to come, but Ezra talks him down. Reminds him of the journey--reminds him that it's okay to slow down.

Frankie comes too soon anyway. But it doesn't end the night. You and Ezra keep going. Keep soothing him with your words, your touches, your mouths. Eventually you both take turns riding him. First you, then Ezra. until Frankie's so overstimulated he shouts out "yellow!" and you both immediately slow down, separate. You don't want to push him too far. He's the most delicate out of the three of you. It would truly kill you to harm him in any way.

And when the scene is done, and Frankie's hands are untied. He pulls you both into his arms, clinging desperately and crying. Catharsis. In the hands of his two best friends. In the hands of two people who understand a side of him that he's never shown anyone else. Safety and security in a way he didn't realize was possible--not in all the dangers he's faced in his life. And not in the way he's faced with his fellow soldiers. This was something different--no more or less personal than his time with Santi and the rest. Just different.

And he regrets keeping you close and letting the cum dry on his skin, but in a way, he doesn't. It was worth it to be near you and Ezra's warm bodies at the time. It gave ease to his nervous system to feel the heartbeat of his two partners. His forever companions.

----.

@perotovar THE BOYZ

[lolitakirstein]

Sore part 2/3

AN: GODDD WHY DO I WRITE SUCH LONG STUFF. There's just so much I want to put in. Anyway here is part one CW: Smut

I walked into the gym the next evening but it was more like a hobble. I'm more sore today than yesterday. I find Toji throwing punches at the punchbags. The sounds of his fist hitting the bag sound like gunshots and the bared teeth and scowl he's wearing are absolutely deadly.

I approach slowly, not wanting to startle him into whipping those fists around on me, but before I can say hi, he grabs the bag to still it.

"I've seen sloths move faster than you, grandma." He says breathlessly, wiping sweat from his brow.

"That's no way to treat a customer," I cross my arms and pout.

He chuckles and unwraps the taping from his large hands.

Am I really about to let this man touch me with those paws after what he just did to that bag?

"Is it still tight?"

"Excuse me," I shake out of my thoughts.

He rolls his eyes, "your neck? You said it was bothering you yesterday."

"oh, yeah." I try to save this conversation with humor. "But as you can see it's a bit more than my neck today. I'm more sore than yesterday"

"DOMS" he answers.

"Uhm, I"m more of a sub myself-"

He cuts me off with a booming laugh, "That's great to know, but DOMS is delayed onset muscle soreness. Happens from progressive overload."

My cheeks burn. Not only have I shown where my mind is twice (the gutter) I've also exposed my preferences (a whore).

"Youve been squatting heavier so it check out," he shrugs.

Is he hinting that he's been watching me squat?

"Yes I watch," he reads my mind.

"What? Why?"

He shrugs again, "I like to make sure everyone is using proper form."

"And how is my form?" i arch a brown

"Excellent," he croons, eyes slowing scanning my body. It's suddenly hotter than the sauna room in here.

"But you can quit the theatrics of pushing your ass out as far as you can. You'll hurt your lower back."

Fuck he is watching me be a whore

"I'll keep that in mind." I try to change the subject though I doubt where I'm going with this is any more appropriate. "So, if your not busy do you wanna take a look."

He pauses wiping off with a towel and we both stare at each other before it clicks what I just said.

"LOOK AT MY ALIGNMENT I MEAN!" i say quickly, but Toji already has a smug fucking looking gracing those scared lips.

+++

The gym's spa room is complete with a hot tub, sauna, tanning booths, and tables that customers can schedule for a masseuse to come in.

Toji gestures to the table, pressing a button that lowers it. "Hop on."

is he being suggestive now?

I sit on the table after removing my shoes. "How do you want me?"

Damn it's no wonder so many porns revolve around massaging, it's too damn easy.

"Well, let me feel your neck first." He steps behind me, "Is it ok if I touch you now?"

I nod. Fuck yes, you can sir.

"Let's get this hair out of the way," he says, gathering my hair in his large hand and laying it across my shoulder. The touch is gentle and comforting. Toji presses the pads of his thumbs along the base of my neck, "Tell me when it's tender."

He continues to palpate around my nape, hitting a tender spot right at the base of my skull. "Ouch right there, " i wince

He place his whole palm on the column of my neck, massaging up and down the area."Yeah, your really tight along the cervical spine area." (😏)

I pull away from his touch, too sore to take it.

"I'm sorry, too much?" He asks, placing his hand on my shoulder.

I nod and he waits for me to signal that he can continue.

"Do you get headaches alot?"

I nod again

"Hmph," he uses a lighter touch to prod my muscles. "Lay on your back for me."

I do as he instructs, placing my head in the desginated head rest.

Toji pulls a stool up, sitting his large thighs now framing my head. I close my eyes to not have to see him overtop of me. My face is literally between his legs wtf.

He puts both hands on the side of my neck, his fingertips push and rub against the base of my skull. It feels amazing in a painful way.

"Right there," i breathe when he hits a particular sore spot.

"Yeah? Does that feel good."

I whimper at the sensation...and at the low purr of his voice.

"I could adjust ya if ya let me. Just a quick crack."

"Uhm, I don't know," I sit up, suddently scared that this man is going to snap my neck. "That seems scary."

He laughs, "It wont hurt, I promise. Youll just hear the cracking like when you pop your knuckles."

I'm still unsure and look down at his large hands.

"I'll be gentle, I swear to you. It'll be quick." He eases me back down onto my back. "I won't kill ya. Would be a horrible PR stunt if i killed a woman in my own gym." He teases.

"Thanks, really reassuring thing to say with your hands around my throat." But damn if it wasn't a thrilling sensation to feel his warm palms pressing against my neck and his fingers slipping through my hair as he moves it out of the way.

"Alright," He pulls himself closer. My whole head is now fully in the palm of his hands. "Just relax, let me do the work."

I glance up quickly at yet another ambiguous comments. how many is that now.

I relax me head into his hands and his moves it side to side, feeling for the knots.

"Yeah right there it is," he says to himself.

Before I can think of anything salacious, Toji twist my neck to the side. A rush of heat enters my head and I gasp at the abrupt movement.

"There, breathe," he lays my head down on the table and rubs my shoulders encouragingly. "Good girl."

I take a deep breathe as more blood rushes to my head. it roars in my ears.

"Wasn't so bad was it?"

I shake my head. Too stunned to speak.

"How do you feel?"

"Wow, so much better" I laugh in relief at home incredible how my neck now feel.

"Now you said you have low back pain?" He swings around the side of the table. I nod. " Lay on your stomach."

Toji stands over my prone body, "I'm going to lift your shirt up a bit."

I feel the fabric slowly graze my low back, a chill springs up at the chill to the room temperature. But it's quickly heated by Toji's warm palms coming to rest right at the dimples above my ass. His thumbs dig it, moving in slow circles and I moan at the delicious pain.

"Seems like a pinched nerve. Nothing to adjust really."I hear toji readjust his positioning, "I need a better angle to push it back into place. "

He leans on the table, one knee bumping between mine so he's able to dig his thumb hard into my sacrum. "Just breathe."

I feel a nudge in my lower spine as he pushes into it, a tingling sensation shoots around my hips. I sigh in relief as the nerve is released.

"There we go," he continues to rub his thumbs into my back, and with the pain subsiding, I can't help but arch into his hands, losing myself to sensations. "Does that help?

When I nod, his hands move lower, spreading outward to grip my sides. "You have beautiful hips..."

I arch more into his touch, the movement causing my body to shift downwards, putting my aching core directly onto his knee. I fear I've gone too far but he doesn't move, just continues to rub my low back, moving slower, almost guiding my hips in circular motions.

The rough fabric of his sweats catches my already wet center. The thin yoga pants I'm wearing probably show just how aroused I am. I continue to grind on his knee; he continues to move my hips, completely silent as though he's afraid of snapping me out of this deviant act.

"Oh, god," I gasp, pushing my hard onto his knee as my orgasm rips through me. I lose myself in it, humping like a damn bitch in heat against him.

When I land back on earth and catch my breath, I push myself to my elbows. My hair sticks to my sweaty face.

Looking behind me at toji, I don't know what to expect. I see toji, still as a lake. His hands have loosened on my hips. He stares at me with pupils that completely engulf his green irises. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly and removes his knee from between my legs, coming to a standing position. My cheeks are on fire as I see the damp spot on his pants from me.

I stand quickly from the table, my blood rushes to my head and causes me to go blind momentarily. I stumble past him without waiting to see clearly.

After mumbling a thanks, I rush out the door, leaving my gym bag behind...

[bitethedevil]

How do you think Raphael would react to feeling loved (not even necessarily in a romantic way—it could also be him feeling appreciated and loved platonically)?

Raphael and Love

(As always, these are just my interpretations of him. It’s dark, but I trust that you have read my “ask”-section and knew it probably would be beforehand anyway. I feel like I’ve made a post about Raphael and love before, but I can’t find it anywhere, so I’m using your ask for it. Hope that’s alright <3)

He would love it. He’d bask in it. He would get addicted to it so fast and it would fascinate him. Not in any healthy or soft way though, far from it. Your love is a tool that is to be explored and exploited for his own pleasure and morbid curiosity, platonic or not.

Testing limits

Ah, so you say you love him: Are you sure about that? If you really do love him, how far are you willing to go? If you truly loved him, surely, he could do whatever he wanted with you, right? He would constantly test your adoration to him, and each little line that you let him cross only means that he will go even further the next time. I am not talking about just ‘making you jealous’ or something like that. I am talking truly abusive and horrible shit. He will literally not stop until he knows that you would literally suffer the worst torments, die, and kill for him.

Making up

What happens then when you snap? He is definitely the type to lovebomb someone and effectively winning them back with all he has got. It is him loosening and tightening the leash. He would give back all that love you craved in return for yours…Until he knows he has got you and then it is back to dissecting you for weaknesses again, like a child seeing how many limbs they can pull off an insect before it dies.

Jealousy and ownership

You are his property. He won’t accept anyone even looking or thinking about you. If possible, keeping you locked away from everything else is the ideal. Why would you need to see other people, if you allegedly loved him more than anyone else? Isolation, control, full attention on him…

It’s the same thing when it comes to affection and intimacy. It will be very dependent on what he wants and likes. I don’t believe it would be entirely one-sided though. He will still touch you and make you feel good, but more in the way that one explores a new and expensive toy to see how it works, and it will be transactional. He never does a thing in his life without wanting something in return.

Love

It’s complicated. He loves your love. He loves the attention and adoration. He craves it. But again, you are a tool for him to get that love. He has no problems molding and shaping you into what he wants, because it can always be better. Look at the House of Hope: everything he owns is shaped in his own image and for his specific needs, and you will be too. Unconditional love is not a part of his vocabulary.

Obsession and dogs and cars

Raphael is just like his daddy when it comes to obsession. It’s hyperfixation. He will get obsessed with someone who gives him the adoration he thinks he deserves, and he will want every bit of it that he can squeeze out of you. He will lose himself completely in it. But. He ‘likes when people put up a fight’ and he likes puzzles, like Korrilla says. You are a puzzle to him. Once you have endured all his excruciating tests with flying colors and he has molded, broken, and shaped you into what he wants, the puzzle is over and things start to get boring. You start to get boring, and Raphael is not a man who lets himself be bored. It is like a dog chasing a car.

(Thank you for the ask <3)

[missmonsters2]

Heya, i was wondering if i could ask a question about Under the light/you found me?

I'm assuming after under the light yn started her physio again and got better since it seemed she didn't have a limp. But I was wondering if it left any permanent scars? As I was wondering after their first time having sex after the break, wanda might have asked about it while they were in bed? Or when yn was undressed at some point had her back to wanda, she noticed the scars and delicately touched them?

I'd like to think she def had yns body memorised so seeing all the new marks made her want to etch them into her mind. But she also felt guilty, not being there in her time of need (even tho yn didn't want her to see anyway).

So yeah I was just curious whether wanda talked or focused her touch of them after she made love to yn?

Under the Light || You Found Me

Hiii!! This is a mix between explaning and partially written behind the scenes!!

Yes, Reader finished her weekly physio in california and keeps up with her regular stretches and exercises to prevent her legs from getting bad. She still goes to physio monthly.

As for scars, there are definitely some on her legs. Particularly, there's one that starts mid-calf and goes up her thigh to her hip. It's completely healed over but the the scar healed as whatever lighter skin-tonned raised bump.

Reader typically never feels self-conscious about it, but the way Wanda gazes upon her skin, her fingers tracing over the scar can make Reader feel slightly uncomfortable in an insecure way.

"I love you. You're beautiful. You're mine and I'm yours." Is all Wanda ever says when she notices you're uncomfortable.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

They've talked about it a few times late at night when the world is sleeping but they're just basking in each other's presence in bed. The sheets rest just below their shoulders.

"I don't know," you say quietly. "I don't hate the scars, per se. I don't love them either. They're a reminder that I survived." The implied words that your best friend didn't hung in the silence.

Wanda nods because she feels the same way. "I understand. I feel the same way. Not because I think they're gruesome or anything. I love them because they are a reminder you survived and I'm so, so thankful. But they're also a reminder that I was a bad girlfriend—that I was a coward and neglected to notice."

You brush a stray strand of hair behind Wanda's ear.

"I think the way you look and touch them every day has more than made up for it."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There are times when you are in a mood, one that can't quite be explained.

It's your own fault really. Sometimes you neglect your daily streches and miss your monthly physio appointments.

Your legs hurt and you're cranky, and you just don't want Wanda to know.

"Why do you insist on hiding it from me?" Wanda scowls at you.

"Why are you always in my business?" you scowl at her back.

Wanda doesn't engage further, knowing that it'll only lead down to a horrid fight with you that ends up with the two of you feeling guilty.

"Lay down on the couch," Wanda jerks her head towards the couch and walks off to grab some icy-hot lotion.

"It's fin—"

"JUST LAY DOWN!" Wanda yells from the kitchen and you purse your lips before doing as she says.

"Just lay down," you mockingly whisper to yourself as you lay on your stomach.

Wanda comes with the lotion and hovers of you. She debates taking off your shorts but decides to leave it be since they're short enough.

Once Wanda's hands start working in slow motions, massaging your calf and slowly making her way up, and the lotion slowly warming up your muslces, you relax.

It's only about 10 minutes into the massage that you turn your head and watch Wanda's focused face but her eyes filled with concern and love that guilt wracks you.

"Sorry," you mumble. "Thank you."

Wanda eyes merely moves to look at you while she continues working. She looks back at your legs, her eyes trailing the long rasied scar. "I love you. You're beautiful. You're mine and I'm yours."

[shirayuricky]

sinful relief | zhang hao

(dividers by @cafekitsune) (requested by anon)

- apart of shirayuricky's 100 followers event -

pairing: zhang hao x fem! reader

genre: smut

warnings: fingering, dirty talk, pet names (baby, darling)

prompts used: 25 - "open up." , 27 - "already? do i really have that much of an effect on you?"

word count: 0.6k

a/n: tried so hard not to scream while writing this. anyways, hope you like it, 🪽 anon :)

hao got back home from dance practice, feeling slightly tired. he sat on the sofa beside you, head leaning on your shoulder. "tough day?" you asked. "not tough, just a little tiring." he said. "then let's go to sleep." you suggested. "i'm not sleepy, darling. i just needed something to regain my energy." he responded. "what do you need? fruits? your favourite drama?" you asked.

"i don't need any of those, y/n. i want something else." hao said, staring at your lips. you got the signal a few moments after. he wants you, right now. you looked at his lips for a brief moment before leaning closer. "so you need me right now?" you asked him for confirmation. "yes, darling...want you so bad." he said, pulling you to his lap.

you nodded, signalling him that you want it as much as he wants it. he slowly closed the distance between your lips, kissing you softly and gently. the kiss felt like sweeter than a lollipop or any sweet candy you'd usually find in convenience stores.

slowly, the kiss starts to get intense, his hands start to roam all over your back, occasionally caressing against your hips. you held onto him, encouraging him to continue with the touches.

then, you felt his finger tapping your cheek as he breaks the kiss. "open up." he said. you opened up and hao slid two of his fingers into your mouth. "suck on it, baby." he whispered into your ear.

you started sucking on his fingers, his other hand caressing your covered entrance through your leggings. that itself made you softly moan against his fingers. your cheeks are slightly flushed in red, your moans muffled by his fingers. "already? do i really have that much of an effect on you?" he asked. you nodded shyly as a response.

after he rubbed your covered core, he slipped his hand into the waistband of your leggings and caressed your wet folds, before slipping two fingers into your soaking pussy. your moans became slightly louder as he thrusted his fingers in and out of you.

your cheeks became redder and your sounds became louder. you couldn't deny it. his fingers are fucking you too good. "you like that, baby? you like me fucking your wet pussy with my fingers?" he said. you let out a muffled "yes" to respond to his question. your mind was clouded with pleasure and how he keeps on rubbing that sensitive spot inside of you.

"such a good girl, taking my fingers like this. you wanna cum for me, hm? cum for me, baby." he whispered into your ear. and those words itself sent you over the edge, your walls throbbing around his fingers. he then pulls his fingers out of your pussy and licks them clean.

"taste so sweet. couldn't get enough, baby." he said, kissing you deeply as he makes you taste yourself on his mouth.

slowly, the blush on your cheeks fade and your breathing is stable. "you've been a good girl, darling. i'll reward you something big, tomorrow morning." he said.

"mhm. let's go to sleep." you said, standing up from the sofa. "alright, let's go." hao replied, standing up as well. the both of you went upstairs to your shared room, cleaned yourselves up in the shower and finally slept.

you wonder on what kind of reward will he give you the next morning the both of you wake up. but that's for the next morning.

[lvnleah]

ik your requests are closed but do you think you’ll ever do a part 2 to movie nights where beth and leah finally find out lia and r are together

Secret’s out | Lia Wälti

your wish is my command 🤭 actually had so much fun writing this so thank you!

find part one here! :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

a few months later…

It had been a few months since you and Leah had confessed your feelings for one another after a team movie night and since then things had been perfect. Lia ended up staying that night and the next morning you talked about how you wanted to do things.

You both agreed to take things slow and not to rush anything, neither of you were going anywhere and there wasn’t any need to rush. The following weeks after that night were spent mostly together and mostly sneaking around.

You wanted to be with Lia all the time and whenever you got the chance, you took it. Although you will admit, sneaking around without your friends finding out was proving harder than you thought it would be.

Beth and Leah had their suspicions, they always had, but their suspicions only grew even more when they saw the way you and Lia looked at each other. When in private, a part of you was always touching Lia but when you were around your friends you couldn’t and it was hard to keep them away.

“So,” Beth began as you finished getting changed in the changing room. “How's everything going with you and Wally?”

You shot her a warning look, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. “Beth, nothing is going on.”

Leah joined in, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you packed up your bag. “Come on, we’re just looking out for you. We want to know all the juicy details.”

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “There’s nothing to tell. We’re taking things slow.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “You’re no fun! We just want to know all the gossip!”

“We just want you to be happy,” Leah added, “It’s good to see you both smiling more. We love you guys and you’re cute together!”

Before you could respond, Lia appeared, looking between the three of you with a raised eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

Your heart raced as you scrambled for a response, but Leah beat you to it. “Just checking up on our girl here,” she said, giving you a pat on the back.

Lia didn’t look entirely convinced but nodded anyway. “Well, we’ve got a meeting with Jonas in ten. Better not keep him waiting.”

The meeting with Jonas went smoothly, but the atmosphere in the changing room lingered in the back of your mind. It was getting harder to keep up the secret, especially when Beth and Leah were as observant as ever. You and Lia exchanged a knowing glance as the team gathered, her eyes holding a mixture of amusement and concern.

After training, you and Lia left together, using the excuse of grabbing dinner to avoid any more prying questions from your friends. You could practically feel their eyes on you as you walked out, Beth’s whisper to Leah not going unnoticed. You sighed as you got into the car, resting your head back against the seat.

“They’re onto us,” you muttered, glancing at Lia.

She chuckled, starting the engine. “They’ve been onto us since the beginning. We’re just making it worse by trying to keep this a secret.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her words, the truth in them settling in your chest. “You’re right. Maybe it’s time we stopped sneaking around.”

Lia reached over, her hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s talk about it tonight, yeah? We’ll figure out how to tell them. There’s no rush to tell them, love.”

You decided to have dinner at your favourite little Italian place, a cosy, tucked-away spot that had quickly become your go-to whenever you wanted a quiet evening together. The atmosphere was warm and intimate, the soft hum of conversations mingling with the clinking of glasses.

You and Lia had grabbed a corner table, candlelight flickering between you as you sipped your wine. The waiter had just taken your order, leaving you both in a comfortable silence. Lia was playing with the edge of her napkin, her eyes focused on the soft glow of the candlelight. There was a subtle tension in the air, a lingering question that neither of you had fully addressed yet.

You reached across the table, your fingers brushing against hers. “What are you thinking about, darling?”

She glanced up at you, “I’m thinking that this is getting harder,” she admitted, her voice quiet but steady. “Hiding us, I mean. I don’t like keeping this from everyone.”

You nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. The past few months had been amazing—stolen moments, whispers between you, and the kind of intimacy that made your heart swell with every touch. But it was also exhausting, constantly looking over your shoulder, worried that someone might catch on before you were ready to share.

“I know,” you said, your thumb gently tracing circles on her hand. “It’s been tough, and I don’t want to hide anymore either. But I’ve just been scared, you know? What if it changes things with the team?”

Lia’s eyes softened, and she turned her hand over to link her fingers with yours. “I get it. But I think… I think they’d be happy for us. Look at Beth and Leah—they’ve been suspicious for weeks. I think they’d just be relieved to finally know the truth.”

You laughed softly, remembering the countless times Beth and Leah had tried to pry details out of you, their teasing relentless. “Yeah, I guess they would. I just didn’t want to rush things between us.”

Lia squeezed your hand, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. “We’re not rushing. We’re taking our time like we said we would. But keeping this a secret is starting to feel like more work than it’s worth.”

You bit your lip, thinking it over. She was right, of course. The sneaking around, the whispered goodbyes, the way you had to consciously keep your distance in public—it was all becoming too much. You wanted to be able to hold her hand without worrying about who might be watching, to share the happiness you’d found with the people who mattered to you.

“What if we just tell them?” you suggested, your heart beating a little faster at the thought. “The team, I mean. We can keep it between us for now, but at least we won’t have to pretend around them.”

Lia nodded. “You think we should?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I do. They’re our friends, and they’ll support us. And if they don’t, well… that’s their problem, not ours.”

She smiled a slow, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Okay,” she said, her voice filled with hope. “Let’s do it. But we should probably break it to Beth and Leah first.”

You laughed, the sound light and free. “Definitely. They’ll probably say they knew all along.”

“Of course they will,” Lia agreed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I think they’ll be happy for us.”

The waiter returned with your food, setting down the plates in front of you. You thanked her, but your attention was still on Lia. You both dug into your meals, the conversation flowing easily as you talked about everything and nothing. The tension from earlier was replaced with a sense of shared excitement and anticipation.

“So, how do you think we should tell them?” you asked, twirling your fork around a mouthful of pasta. “Just drop it casually in conversation?”

Lia grinned, “Maybe we should make it a bit more dramatic. Show up to the next team dinner holding hands or something.”

You laughed, the image of your teammates’ stunned faces flashing in your mind. “That would definitely get their attention.”

“Or,” Lia continued, “we could just kiss in front of them. That would shut Beth up for once.”

You laughed, almost choking on your food. “I think that might be a bit much excitement for the poor girl.”

Lia shrugged, her smile softening. “Whatever we do, I just want it to be honest. I’m tired of hiding.”

You reached across the table again, your fingers brushing against hers. “Me too,” you said softly. “I just want to be with you.”

Her eyes softened, and she turned her hand to lace her fingers with yours. “You are with me,” she murmured, her voice filled with warmth. “And soon, everyone else will know it too.”

You sat there for a moment, just holding her hand, the rest of the world fading away. It was a small, simple gesture, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Dinner stretched on, filled with laughter and quiet, meaningful glances. By the time you left the restaurant, your hands were still intertwined, this time with no worry.

A few weeks later, the team had just wrapped up a particularly gruelling training session, the hot summer sun bearing down on you as you made your way back to the locker room. You and Lia had settled into a comfortable rhythm, balancing your relationship and your football. But the more time you spent together, the harder it was to keep your feelings from spilling over in front of your teammates.

Beth and Leah were relentless in their teasing, and it was only a matter of time before everyone else caught on. You could sense their curiosity growing, the way they’d glance between you and Lia whenever you were together, whispering and giggling like schoolgirls.

After a quick shower, you were just pulling on your training top when Beth teased you again, her eyes narrowing playfully. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Lia lately,” she remarked, her tone light but probing.

You shrugged, trying to keep your voice casual. “We’re friends, Beth. It’s not a big deal.”

“Friends who leave together after every practice and arrive together for every match?” Leah chimed in, leaning against the lockers with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, Lia entered the room with a few bottles of cold water from the canteen.

“What are we talking about?” she asked, looking directly at you.

“Beth and Leah are convinced we’re more than friends,” you said, shooting them a playful glare. “And they won’t drop it.”

Lia’s eyes met yours, a silent conversation passing between you. Then, with a soft smile, she turned to the girls. “What if we are?”

Beth’s jaw dropped, and Leah let out a delighted gasp. “Wait, what?” Leah sputtered, looking between you two with wide eyes.

You bit back a laugh, stepping closer to Lia. “We wanted to tell you all, but we didn’t know how.”

Beth recovered first, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms over her chest. “So all those times we asked and you said nothing was going on…?”

“We were taking things slow,” Lia said, reaching out to take your hand. “We didn’t want to make it a big deal until we were sure.”

Leah’s eyes softened, a warm smile spreading across her face. “You guys are adorable, you know that?”

Beth huffed, pretending to be annoyed, but you could see the happiness in her eyes. “I can’t believe you kept this from us for so long! We’re your friends, we want to be there for you.”

You squeezed Lia’s hand, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “We know, and we’re sorry. We just needed some time to figure things out.”

Leah stepped forward, wrapping you both in a tight hug. “We’re so happy for you,” she murmured, her voice filled with genuine affection. “You two deserve to be happy together.”

Beth joined in, her arms wrapping around the three of you. “I guess we’ll forgive you, but only if you promise not to keep any more secrets.”

You and Lia exchanged a look over their shoulders, smiling as you both nodded. “No more secrets,” you promised, relief and joy filling your chest. “Although we are thinking about getting a puppy.”

“A puppy!” Beth smiled, “Do it! A little friend for Myle!”

Later, as you and Lia walked out of the training ground hand in hand, you felt lighter than you had in months. There were still challenges ahead, still things to figure out, but you knew you could face them together.

[suusoh]

check this post out for context :)!! but anyways— weird cryptid johan, who can't be killed for some reason, but enjoys seeing you endearingly try anyways.

---

You try to bury him alive.

Maybe the trick isn't to kill him, but to keep him contained. Not give him any chance to come back from the dead, or regenerate his injuries. Locked away. In a dark, tight, crummy box like he deserves.

You wipe the sweat off your brow and neck, grease and grime mixing in with your body fluids and staining your shirt. At least the dirt mound is smaller now, an estimate of maybe... maybe 15 more shovels at least, and the bastard would finally leave you alone for a good while.

Maybe you should leave flowers, a nice little sentiment of peace.

Or maybe you should let a dog do it's business all over, you don't really care about what to do afterwards. You're just glad you got the cement part over.

Having to combine all that cement mix, carry heavy buckets to pour all over his casket, and waiting for it to dry was back-breaking. But it was a necessary precaution no less; anything to ensure you never see those god-awful eyes stare at you again.

Hah, rest in peace you son of a bitch.

...or daughter, or something.

Come to think of it: was he— it— even a guy? or even had an existing gender at all? Gender is rather... more of a human thing after all, creating a definition to categorise ourselves. To categorise other humans.

And that thing, obviously, is nowhere near to what can even be considered human. Seeming to switch out of skins as if it were merely switching out shirts for the day. Even morphing itself and contorting its face and body into the image of a dead relative of yours one time.

(It got it wrong. It copied the image from a family picture, but family pictures never contain faces of disappointment, do they? That's where it made a mistake, by copying that camera-ready smile and looking at you warmly.

and that's how you knew something was wrong.)

As confusing as it is by itself, another thing bothers you. See, it could easily copy anyone, at any given moment. Anyone. From a distant childhood friend to the everyday mailman.

Yet it leaves you stunned at times that it chooses a somewhat... "consistent" body, if you can call it that, when it comes it visit you. You'd expect it to come to you wearing your classmates face, or donning the look of an innocent child, or if it really wants, it could do something closer to home again.

But... no. It actually, presents itself with this certain appearance for some reason.

It didn't resemble anyone from your past or of significance to you, so using this look leaves your tormentation out of the list (surprisingly); it doesn't look like your ideal type either, so definitely not seduction. You have no idea who this is.

Perhaps a collage of features the entity chose to mix and match, or is it an entirely copied form of an already existing person? If so, then why him? Who is he?

A young man.

Blonde, tall, and pale; a crisp matching blazer and pants ensemble that never seemed to wrinkle.

Blue eyes.

Blue wretched eyes, you're absolutely sure you've already drove a pen into, or cut out with a knife, numerous times into a bloody squishy mess that leaves you crying after. But no matter what, those eyeballs always seems to come back as good as new the next time you see them again. Untouched in its place and doll-like, a bit too squeaky clean and a bit too perfect.

It makes your skin crawl.

Breathe... you're almost done.

You take a small break, lowering your self to sit on the muddy dirt ground, groaning when your backaches serve as a reminder of being hunched over all day; you toss the shovel aside and take in much needed breaths.

Something ice-cold and wet touches the back of your neck.

You jolt forward. shocked. disgusted. Quickly using your hand to cover your nape. Eyes shooting open and twisting around to whatever the hell just did that.

A singular bottle of water is held in front of you. You freeze.

"Tired?"

He asks, gentle expression resting on his face, still holding out the cold bottle with his hand to you.

A hand without even a single trace of blood, dirt, or cement on it, not even a single speck hiding under the fingernails.

No.

No No No No.

He's here.

He's not 8 feet underground stuffed in a dark wooden box, with a sheet of cement weighing on top of it to prevent him from crawling out, and layers and layers of dirt ensuring to push him down with added pressure.

He. Is. Here.

And he is smiling at you, whilst handing you a drink. In his neatly pressed clothes that look picked straight from the dry cleaners. And now everything you did, for the past 39 hours of sheer labor and desperation, is reduced to absolutely— nothing.

"I apologise for not telling you sooner to save you the trouble."

You don't need his comfort; the emotions he invokes in you will never come close to resembling comfort.

"But at the very least, it's not all for naught: you've found another method that doesn't quite do the job yet."

He’s still holding out the water for you, but it’s the way he extends his hand that makes you stare at the synthetically still limb in front of you, nothing about it human or natural—more akin to a statue covered by a thin layer of skin.

After lingering in a still state of suspended animation— his hand moves. The action so sudden, you flinch a bit. This elicits... something from him. You're not sure what reaction he's supposed to be portraying right now, was he supposed to be... chuckling? Or gasping in some weird way? The sound never making it past his throat as he just continues staring and making that noise. You don't like it.

He brings the bottle closer to your lips, wordlessly encouraging you to drink. A twitch in his fingers suggests he’s trying to recalibrate the functions of his human body, retrying to hold the bottle correctly; more naturally. More... gentle. Fluid.

He smiles again; it doesn’t make you feel good. The tug of his lips is a mimicry; you're sure he's borrowing someone else’s mouth right now, still trying to appear as "comforting".

"We'll just have to try again, won't we? I’m sure you’ll find plenty of ways to keep disappointing yourself."