#but i think my idea is a little bit of Neither and both? who knows man.

[lalaboy]

ooh im thinkin about my helene design... i think im onto somethin

[watchmegetobsessed]

MAD MAN

A/N: he looked like a snack, his ce vibes were too strong to hold them back

base of the idea was by @harrysblackcoat

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SUMMARY: You came to the game to forget about the massive fight you had with Harry a few days ago, but your alone time is soon interrupted by the man you've been trying to avoid.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You weren’t planning to come today. Well, you were, until about four days ago, but then the whole ordeal happened with Harry and suddenly you didn’t want to do anything else than stay at home, cry or either sleep until you forget about the shit you both said. 

It was nasty. You don’t even remember how it started, maybe it was because he got home too late, or was it because you couldn’t choose a restaurant again and it always drives him crazy.

You have no idea what started it, you only remember how bad it got. Screaming, shouting, saying the worst things you ever did and probably neither of you meant. But you said them and you can’t take them back. 

Maybe packing your stuff and leaving wasn’t your best idea, but you needed time and space. Harry has been blowing your phone up ever since, but you feel like you need just a little bit more time away from him to think about… well, the two of you. 

You’ve had the ticket for months and you didn’t have the heart to miss out on the game just because of what happened. So you pulled yourself out of your depression cave, aka your old apartment you still haven’t sold since moving in with Harry and came to the game. Now you’re sitting in your usual seat, waiting for it to start while trying your best to keep him out of your thoughts at least until the end. 

Looking across the stadium you see the VIP section and immediately, you fail at not thinking about him, because you think of how he is the kind of man that would be standing there, sipping on something fancy and expensive. 

Groaning you turn your attention to your drink, playing with the straw, but then you remember the time you explained to Harry why this is your favorite seat in the stadium.

“Okay, enlighten me, baby,” he smirked at you, pulling you to his lap after pushing himself away from his desk.

“It’s close to the exit, I can leave before the crowd gets moving, the toilet is 20 seconds away and the line is always short, because the one by the F stairs is more popular. And…” You peaked at him, checking if he was still listening and there he was, giving you his undivided attention with a cheesy smirk on his handsome face. “And the drinks are better in the buffet that’s behind.”

“Better?” he chuckled. “Baby, they are the same.”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “It’s less… watery.”

“Mm, if you say so,” he smirked and then kissed you, making you forget about what you were talking about just a moment ago.

You need to blink your tears away. You promised yourself you wouldn’t be crying during this game, that you wouldn’t think about how much you miss him and how even despite the fight you love him more than anyone. 

You dig into your bag for a tissue, right when someone tries to squeeze past you to their seat. The tall man inches into the row, his long coat brushing your knees while you’re still elbow deep in your bag and you faintly register that he sits beside you. 

“Here,” he deep voice speaks up beside you and you know who it is even before his hand moves into your view, holding out a tissue. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, taking the tissue without looking at him. 

“Why do people come to football matches?” he asks back and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “I’m here because you wouldn’t answer the phone.”

“That might mean that I don’t want to talk to you,” you casually reply, staring ahead of you.

Harry exhales sharply beside you and his knee presses against yours, making you gasp.

“Y/N, I hope you didn’t think I would just let you slip out of my hands like that, right? We need to talk.”

“And you thought a football game would be the best place for that?” 

“This seems to be the only way to get you to talk to me, so yeah.”

“How did you even know I would be sitting here?”

“Because you told me this is your favorite seat.”

“I did not. I just told you I have one, I never told you it’s this one.”

You sit in silence for a bit, trying to figure out if maybe you did tell him the exact seat, but you get to the same point: you didn’t.

“I never told you, so how did you know?” you ask and finally look at him. His beauty strikes you, as always, the chiseled jawline, the slope of his nose, the curly lashes, he still takes your breath away. 

He runs his tongue across his lips and then looks at you.

“The drink,” he then finally says.

“What?”

“The drink. It really is better here.” You watch him and he continues. “I tried… I tried them all in the stadium and it really is less watery.”

He tried them all. He went around the stadium and tried them all to figure out where you’re sitting. 

“Now that you’re listening to me, can we talk?” he then asks with a soft smile. “Or it could be just me speaking, but I really want to tell you what I’ve been thinking about the past few days.”

“Okay,” you breathe out. “Talk then.”

His gaze lingers on your face, as if he is taking in every tiny detail before speaking up again.

“I fucked up, Y/N. I said all those terrible things in the heat of the moment and I regretted them right away. I didn’t mean any of them.”

“Not even when you said that all I do is get on your nerves?” you find yourself asking.

“You do get on my nerves, Y/N,” he says and you’re just about to open your mouth, but he is quick to continue. “You make me go crazy in the best way possible. With your silly dancing in the kitchen, the way you sing every song with the wrong lyrics and swear your version is the right. When you get mad at me for using words you don’t know the meaning of, or when you put me in my place when I’m being a total ass… you make me go crazy… for you.”

Your eyes are tearing up again and when his hand moves to your knee you lean closer to him, wanting more of his touch instantly. 

“I love you, Y/N. I never thought I could love someone this much, but you just always prove me wrong,” he chuckles softly and your hand finds his on your leg, your fingers locking together. “Please come back. I’m nothing without you. Come back and get on my nerves every day because I want to be a mad man, but only if it’s you who makes me crazy.”

Now you’re fighting the urge to cry like a baby. You love this man and you can’t imagine a day when you won’t. 

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks. He reaches up and wipes them with his thumb. “I didn’t mean it when I said you must be fucking all your assistants at work.”

“That hurt,” he smiles bitterly.

“I just… I still wonder why you chose me,” you admit with a shrug. 

“Because you’re the one for me,” he simply answers, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. You take a deep breath and exhale it shakily before leaning in and kissing him. The game starts right when your lips meet, but all the screaming and clapping tunes out as you’re back in the arms of the man you love. 

“Do you want to move to the VIP section?” you ask. 

“Nope,” he smirks down at you. “This really is the best seat.”

“See? I told you!” chuckling, you just pull him in for another kiss before making yourself comfortable with his arm around your shoulders.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[natsaffection]

Hello, hello, sorry for bothering, it's the first time I've made an order (+18)🫣, the idea came to me thanks to a bot, I was wondering if you could make one where Wandanat Dom! x passive reader!, Wandanat are mafia bosses and rivals (you can decide to make Wandanat g!p or not, no problem) and they are both having a loud argument in Natasha's office and the reader just walks in without knocking because he had to handing some papers or something to Natasha and Wanda doesn't take her eyes off the reader, which Natasha realizes and well, you could say they make an alliance to turn the reader into a babbling mess and leave him full of fluids. (only if you want and can, obviously no problem and I'm sorry if you don't understand some of the text, English is not my main language, thank you!.🌟)

The Witch and the Widow. | WandaNat

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI!, fingering, rough Sex, Magic-Penis (🫠), multiple orgasms, overstimulation

Word count: 1,6k

A/n: I change the Gender, because I don't write Male reader :) Hope thats okay!!

Natasha leaned against her desk, her eyes sharp as daggers. Opposite her stood Wanda Maximoff, alias the Scarlet Witch, her gaze equally unyielding. "You think you can just stroll into my territory and take what you want?" Natasha's voice was deep and dangerous, every syllable had a sharp edge.

Wanda smiled mockingly, her fingers drumming casually on the armrest of her chair. "I don't think, Natasha. I know. And if you have a problem with that, we can settle it here and now." Natasha's eyes flashed with anger. "You've always been so sure of yourself, haven't you? But your magic tricks won't save you from a bullet."

Wanda's smile widened, her eyes glowing slightly with power. "And your bullets won't save you from my magic. But let's be honest, Natasha, you won't really pull the trigger, will you?"

The room crackled with unspoken threats, neither woman willing to back down, the weight of their past encounters pressing upon them. Just as the tension seemed unbearable, the door flew open, and you walked in, unaware of the tense situation you had just stumbled into.

"Natasha, I need your signature on these-" You stopped abruptly, your eyes widening as you took in the scene before you. Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff in one room? You couldn't believe it.

Wanda's eyes didn't leave you, a slow, predatory smile spreading across her lips. Natasha noticed the change immediately, her own gaze narrowing but her anger abating as she saw the Scarlet Witch's interest in her assistant.

"Interesting.." murmured Natasha, her voice taking on a new..seductive tone. She pushed off from the desk and moved towards you, who stood frozen in place. "It seems you’re a bit distracted. Do I see a hint of jealousy?"

Wanda's smile grew wider, her magic swirling around her fingers. "Perhaps. But I bet I could please her better than you ever could." Natasha's eyes narrowed, her competitive nature flaring up. "Is that a challenge, Maximoff?"

Wanda tilted her head, her smile a mix of mischief and challenge. "Absolutely. Let's see who can bring our little assistant here the most pleasure." Your heart raced, your eyes darting between the two powerful women. Before you could react, the door clicked shut behind you, sealing your fate. Wanda's magic shimmered, and in an instant, both women stood transformed, their intentions clear and undeniable.

Natasha moved first, her hands gliding over your shoulders, her touch firm yet gentle. "Relax, Y/n. Let's be hospitable to our guest, okay, Detka?" Wanda conjured a coin from thin air, her eyes sparkling. "Let's make it fair, Natasha. Heads or tails?" Natasha's eyes gleamed with challenge. "Heads."

Wanda tossed the coin, and it spun in the air before landing in her hand. "Tails. Looks like I go first." She approached you, her eyes burning with desire. Her magic caressed your skin, making you shiver with anticipation. "Don't be afraid, sweetheart. I've got you."

Wanda's touch was both gentle and demanding, her fingers gliding over your body, eliciting soft sighs and moans from you. Natasha watched, her own desire burning but also noting your every reaction, every quiver of pleasure.

Wanda leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. "Do you feel that? How my magic envelops you, making every touch feel like fire?" You could only whimper, your body arching into Wanda's touch. Wanda's fingers slid deeper, teasing the edges of your clothing before slipping underneath. Your breath hitched as Wanda's fingers found their target.

Natasha's eyes darkened with desire and frustration. "Time to raise the stakes." She came closer, her hands exploring your body alongside Wanda's. You were sandwiched between them, your mind reeling from the intensity of their combined touch.

Wanda's magic flowed, enveloping you and amplifying every sensation. Her touch became more insistent, driving you to the edge. The magic enhanced every one of her movements, her fingers exploring your most sensitive spots with unerring precision. Your body arched and writhed, your moans growing louder as Wanda pushed you closer to the edge. Her lips found your neck, her teeth grazing the delicate skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Do you like that?" Wanda whispered, her voice a husky purr. "Tell me how it feels."

"It..it f-feels.." Your voice was a breathless gasp, your words barely coherent. "So good..please.." Wanda's smile was triumphant as she continued her ministrations, her magic pulsing in time with your heartbeat. "That's it. Let go. Come for me."

As you came down from your climax, Wanda stepped back, a satisfied smile on her lips. "Your turn." Natasha's eyes burned with desire and determination. She positioned herself in front of you, her hands gliding over your flushed skin. "Let's see if Wanda's magic can match my skills, hm?"

Natasha's touch was expert, her hands and lips exploring every inch of your body with practiced ease. She knew exactly how to drive you to the edge, her competitive nature pushing her to outdo Wanda. Your body still trembled from your previous orgasm, and Natasha could feel the residual pleasure radiating from your skin.

"God, you're so sensitive.." Natasha murmured, her lips brushing your ear. Her fingers found their way to your core, her touch firm and insistent. Your breath hitched, your body arching into Natasha's hand. The other hand cupped your breast, her thumb teasing the sensitive nipple. Your moans grew louder, your body eagerly responding to Natasha's touch.

Wanda watched, her eyes dark with desire and a hint of jealousy again. She could see your pleasure building, and she didn't want Natasha to win so easily. With a wave of her hand, Wanda's magic slowed down every sensation for you.

Natasha noticed the change, her eyes narrowing. "Cheating, Wanda? I thought you were better than that." Natasha's touch became more insistent, her fingers moving in a rhythm that had you writhing and gasping. "Come for me, Y/n, let us show her." Natasha whispered, and your body tensed, your mind lost in a haze of pleasure and ecstasy. With one final, shuddering cry, you came again, your orgasm even more intense than the last. Natasha held you close, her touch gentle as you rode the waves of pleasure.

As your breath began to steady, Natasha slowly withdrew, her eyes meeting Wanda's with a mix of satisfaction and challenge. "Top that."

Wanda's magic shimmered again, and this time, she conjured a Dick for herself, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. Natasha's eyes darkened with lust and competition. Wanda's magic pulsed once more, and Natasha also felt the transformation, a hard, throbbing length appearing between her legs. "You're welcome, Romanoff."

Your eyes widened, your body trembling with anticipation and a hint of fear. "W-Wait..! I n-need a break.." Wanda's hand caressed your cheek, her touch soothing. "Oh, but we're just getting started."

She positioned herself behind you, her hands firm on your hips. "Deep breaths, sweetheart." She eased in slowly, her length filling you inch by inch. You gasped, your body tensing at the sensation, "Relax.." Wanda murmured, her voice a soothing purr. "You can take it."

Natasha watched, her eyes dark with desire as she stroked herself, waiting for her turn again. Wanda began to move, her thrusts slow and measured, each one driving you closer to the edge. Your moans filled the room, your body responding eagerly to her movements.

"She's so tight," Wanda groaned, her pace quickening "feels so fucking good!" Natashas desire flared, and she moved closer, her hand joining Wandas on your body. "Hurry up, Wanda."

Wanda's thrusts became more urgent, her competitive spirit driving her to push you to new heights of pleasure. Your cries grew louder, your body writhing with each powerful movement. Her hands gripped your hips firmly, her nails digging into the soft flesh,

"C-Come on, sweetheart.." Wanda urged, "I want to feel you come around me.." Your breath hitched, your body teetering on the edge, "I can't..it's too much- o-oh my god!!"

Wanda's magic flared, amplifying every sensation coursing through your body. "You can do it. Just let go.." With a final, powerful thrust, Wanda sent you over the edge for the third time.. Your body convulsed, your cries echoing through the room as you were overwhelmed by a powerful orgasm.

As your breathing began to steady, Wanda slowly withdrew, her eyes meeting Natashas, "Ya chuvstvuyu sebya khorosho segodnya, davay porabotayem vmeste." (I feel good today, let's work together.)

You just notice how suddenly two more eyes are looking at you. "Let's see how you handle both of us."

Hours passed, and the two of them took turns over and over. The sensation was overwhelming, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. Your cries grew louder, your body a trembling bundle of pleasure and ecstasy.

With one final, shuddering cry, you came again. Your body convulsing with the intensity of your orgasm. Wanda and Natasha moved in perfect harmony, their own pleasure building as they drove you to new heights.

As they reached their peak, Wanda and Natasha moaned together, their release mixing as they filled you with their fluids. Your body shuddered, your cries echoing through the room as you were pushed over the edge one last time.

Breathless and exhausted, Natasha and Wanda collapsed beside you, their rivalry temporarily forgotten in the face of their shared victory.

"We'll call it a draw.." murmured Natasha, her voice exhausted. Wanda nodded, a satisfied smile on her lips. "For now." You lay between them, your body shaking from the aftereffects of the pleasure. You could barely speak, your mind overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience.

They both smiled, their hands gently caressing your flushed skin. "Just wait until next time.." Natasha whispered, her voice full of promise and Wanda's eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Next time there will be a clear winner."

[2tarbell]

can i just say that i love you?! you write trailerpark!rafe so well and i’ve waited so long to find a writer that created a work solely based on him! my obsession with trailerpark!rafe literally came from that short film drew did with rudy 😭😭

anyways i saw that you were looking for blurb ideas and honestly i can’t get trailerpark!rafe and reader doing cute domestic things together like going to the grocery store, washing the truck together, and maybe us seeing how rafe asked reader to move in with him and seeing his reaction to her adding her sweet touches to the place and making the trailer more homey for them.

thank u my love :C ur so sweet and i appreciate the message!!!! wrote something a little small just detailing rafe’s feelings about domestic stuff 💝 ENJOY!!!!

TRAILERPARK!RAFE who loves how reader has become his life.

he had watched her grow up beside him, neither family abundantly rich. but her chalk drawings of butterflies and hearts stretched along the path of her family home — the colors and softness always enraptured rafe, as well as the furrow of her brow when she yelled at him for killing some little bug. then she turned from a little girl with dirt on her cheeks into a mature woman with curves and determination she definitely didn’t have before.

he was sixteen when he fell in with love her, with her soul.

so he asked her to move in with him on their six month anniversary, all bashful and unsure in the way only she could make him. he was nervous about asking her to just come over, yet alone move in with him in such a shitty little trailer; void of decoration and love. he had always wanted to be more for her, for them. this precious woman that wormed her way into his heart since the moment they met at twelve.

it was cute, the way he was avoiding looking as he drove. she could see his ears turning a bit red, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. he’d been on edge the entire evening — shifty eyes and shaky hands so unlike the man she had come to know and love so dearly.

it all made sense when he spoke lowly, eyes still on the road ahead:

“so, uh... whaddaya— ahem… was thinkin’ ‘bout you maybe — uh — movin’ in?”

“you— you want me to?”

rafe couldn’t imagine anything better. so he nodded. and so did she.

the drive continued with her head on his shoulder, both biting back cheesy smiles at the next step they’d decided to take. rafe brought her hand to lips, pressing a long kiss to her knuckles — his fears of being not enough were washed away as his place eventually became their place.

there she was that very weekend, all tender and sweet and telling him where to put her stuff amongst his. he sees her in the furniture they picked, the flowers on the kitchen table, the pictures of them on the walls, in the very foundation of the trailer.

(then of course they fucked on every surface available, ‘christening’ the space.)

her hands soothing and gentle on his arms when he comes home to her. rafe never was good at being gentle like she is — he thinks loveliness lives in her bones as she kisses his cheek and mumbles something about dinner that she made him.

but it was the first night after they moved in together, he saw her in the bathroom preparing for bed and felt all air leave him. he can’t imagine a life without her in it. doesn’t want to even entertain the idea. the thought of a place without her burns in his mind — searing and almost painful. he can’t believe there was a time when she wasn’t his.

[ro-is-struggling]

Secret Encounters || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon

Summary: They know it's wrong, but they can't deny the desire and lust that overcomes them every time they are together.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn with a little bit of plot (not really), fingering, penetrative sex, mirror sex, rough sex, size kink, belly bulge, breeding kink, dirty talk, mentions of cheating (reader is engaged), fem reader (she’s a princess)

English is not my first language

Word count: 3900

Notes: I promise I'll stop writing tragic princess x witcher stories after this one. Also, sorry for the shitty summary but it's only smut so it was kinda hard to come up with something lol

Geralt had never been fond of royalty, but the moment his eyes fell on hers he knew she was different. He didn't really understand why, but he felt some type of way whenever she was near. Her perfume was intoxicating, a sweet scent that lingered on his clothes and skin and accompanied him wherever he went. He could not escape her even when he wandered alone through the forest in search of the beast he had been hired to kill... not even when he was lying in his bed at night, surrounded by the darkness of the room as he tried to rest. Her scent enveloped him at all times, awakening something deep inside him. It drove him crazy, crazy enough to act on his desires. 

He knew it was wrong, it was inappropriate to take advantage of the king's hospitality like that. And she knew it was wrong too, she was a princess soon to be married, a woman of high value who had no business with a witcher like Geralt. And yet, neither seemed to be able to stay away from the other. It was as if there was some kind of energy force pulling them together, the very will of destiny imposing itself over their own. When Geralt showed up at her chambers she knew she should have turned him away. No matter how much she had been longing for him to take her in his arms and make her his, the right thing to do was to reject him and move on with her life. In fact, she had opened the door with the intention of doing exactly that, but when her eyes met the imposing figure of the witcher, towering over her as his amber eyes admired her face, she could not resist the temptation. She gave in to her desires, crashing her lips against his in a desperate kiss as she slowly pulled him into her room.

The feel of his touch lingered on her body for days, her skin permanently marked by the roughness of his caresses and the warm wetness of his mouth. The sound of his grunts of pleasure as he buried himself in her echoed in her mind at all times. He was all she could think about. She knew it was wrong, but she needed to feel his hands on her body again, exploring every inch of her skin as he showed her pleasure like no other man could.

Despite their desperation, they were able to keep their hands off each other for a while. Though all their self-control disappeared by the time of Geralt's last day in the castle. After slaying the beast —and collecting his reward— the witcher was ready to leave when the king made him an offer he couldn't resist. There would be a feast in celebration of the fall of the creature that had terrorized the town and Geralt, as their savior, was the guest of honor. He would normally have declined the offer, although the promise of free food and alcohol sounded enticing, he hated the idea of being stuck with a bunch of drunken noblemen. However, this time it gave him the perfect excuse to stay there a while longer and say goodbye to the princess the right way —the way he knew they had both been fantasizing about since their last encounter.

The party quickly turned into a game of cat and mouse, defiant yellow eyes meeting hers in the crowd, admiring her lips as she laughed and the way her body moved as she danced. She was doing it on purpose, accepting the proposals of all the knights who bowed in front of her to provoke him. She wanted to spark a reaction in him, see how far she could push him, how far she could push the boundaries of their secret relationship. The thought of being caught filled her body with adrenaline, her heart pounding so hard against her chest that he could almost hear it over the noise of the party.

She waited for the right moment and took advantage of the first distraction to escape to her bedroom. Her eyes met Geralt's before disappearing behind the side door of the great hall, her desire-laden expression a silent plea for him to follow her. She sat in front of the large mirror in her room waiting for him, removing the jewelry from her hair and combing her hair without any haste. And just as she expected, only a few minutes after her arrival, she felt the sound of the door's wood creaking as it opened. She saw Geralt lock the door behind him in the reflection of the mirror and she had to hold back the smile that wanted to form on her lips —a failed attempt to save some of her decency and not look so desperate.

"You're not supposed to be here." She said as if his presence didn't make her heart race. "It's wrong."

"That's not what you said the other night." Geralt's deep voice was music to her ears, his slightly mocking tone awakening that tingle under her skin. He walked up to her, holding her gaze in the mirror as if challenging her. He stood tall at her back, close enough that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, but not close enough to feel the brush of his hands on her skin. 

"The other night was a mistake." She affirmed, setting the comb aside. It was true, their furtive encounter, though pleasurable, had been a mistake. But they both knew well that neither really cared. The desire they felt, the tension in the air, it was all too much, it clouded their thinking leaving them at the mercy of their most primitive feelings. 

Geralt reached out his hands to her, brushing her hair aside so he could caress her skin. He noticed how she stifled a sigh through the reflection of the mirror, his warm touch awakening that flame within her. His fingers moved gently across her shoulders, up her neck until they reached her cheeks. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, losing herself in the moment. It felt just as she remembered it, warm and hard, yet strangely soft and comforting at the same time. It was as if his hands had never left her skin, as if his caresses were permanently carved into her body.

"Do you wish for me to leave?" he said, his voice barely a raspy whisper. He knew the answer to her question, he could read it on her face, smell it in the air, feel it in the vein in her neck that throbbed rapidly beneath his fingers. But still, he needed to be sure he was right, hear from her lips the plea for his caresses. He needed to know that she was as desperate as he was.

She didn't give him a verbal response, just rose from her seat and pressed her lips to his. Geralt's hands closed around her waist, pulling her body against his as he quickly took control of the kiss. She didn't bother fighting for dominance, acknowledging her subordination to him almost immediately. She didn't need to win, she just needed to feel his hands on her skin again, gripping and caressing every inch of her body in a rush of pleasure until the early morning sun forced them apart.

There was nothing tender and soft about the way Geralt's lips attacked hers, only lust and desperation, but she loved every part of it. She loved the way his tongue invaded her mouth and how his teeth nibbled at her lips before moving his wet kisses down her neck, sucking and biting at the skin without fear of leaving marks. He knew he could do whatever he wanted with her as she was completely at his mercy, surrendered to the pleasure only he could give her. She didn't care if she had to spend the next week finding creative ways to hide the evidence of their furtive encounter, she just needed to feel him. She wanted him to mark her, to declare ownership over her body. She knew she belonged to him, always would, even if she never saw him again after tonight.

Clothes soon became a problem, a barrier that kept them apart, so desperate hands worked carelessly to fix it. Her dress was the first to go, the expensive fabric pooling around her feet leaving her naked body completely exposed to Geralt's hungry gaze. She should have been embarrassed, but nothing but lust and anticipation pumped through her veins. He was looking at her as if she were the most beautiful and sensual woman he had ever seen, as if she were a goddess he had the privilege of pleasing. Never before had anyone looked at her in that way, so intense, so filled with adoration. She loved it, it made her feel special, powerful. 

Geralt didn't waste a second, calloused fingers caressing every inch of exposed skin. It awakened a fire inside her, a tingling that spread throughout her body, concentrating on her core. His teeth nibbled at the sensitive skin of her neck, sinking his canines into her as his hands moved down to her breasts, earning a couple of sighs from the princess as he showed attention to her nipples erect with anticipation. He smiled against her neck, proud of himself as the scent of her arousal lingered in the air. It was an intoxicating scent, the sweet forbidden fruit begging him to take it.

When his fingers slipped between her wet folds, she let out a moan of pleasure as her grip on the witcher's shoulders tightened. It was as beautiful as he remembered, a harmonious melody traveling through him and going straight to his cock. It was the sound of temptation, of lust, urging him to carry on, to forget all rules of morality and decorum and take what was his.

“P-please, Geralt.” She pleaded against his lips. Her breathing was rapid and she looked up at him through half-closed eyelids. He slipped two of his fingers inside her with ease, pushing them as deep as he could and moving them until he made her moan. She looked so beautiful like this, her eyes closed in pleasure and her parted lips releasing those beautiful desperate sighs, completely at his mercy.It was an image that would stay in Geralt's mind for quite some time. 

"I know, I know," he soothed her, his free hand coming up to caress her cheek. "I have to get you ready for me."

"I-I need to feel you, p-please." She whimpered in a pathetic, desperate attempt to get him to do what she wanted. She needed to feel all of him, his hot skin pressed against hers, his fingernails sinking into the skin of her hips as he buried his cock deep inside her, his ragged breaths in the hollow of her neck. She needed him as much as she needed the air she breathed and could wait no longer.

Thankfully he took pity on her, removing his hands from her body to unbutton his pants. She suppressed the whimper that wanted to escape her throat as she felt empty without his fingers inside her, knowing the sensation would not last for long. Geralt instructed her to turn over and her body obeyed him before she could process his words or wonder what he was up to. Her body no longer belonged to her, it belonged to him and always would.

He held her against his chest for a moment, one hand roaming her body while the other held her head steady facing forward. She could feel his hard member pressed against her lower back as his heat enveloped her completely. Their gazes met in the mirror once more and she saw the darkness of desire staining the beautiful yellow orbs. He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her intoxicating scent before lowering his lips to her ear.

"I want you to look at yourself in the mirror as I fuck you, princess." Geralt whispered in her ear, his voice firm and slightly deeper than normal. His eyes never left hers in the mirror, studying her reaction in the reflection. "I want you to see how beautiful you look with your face scrunched up in pleasure so you'll remember it after I'm gone and your future husband can't make you feel this good."

He gave her no warning before pushing his hard cock into her tight wet hole, and he wasn't gentle either. A quick thrust of his hips and he was balls deep inside her as her velvety walls struggled to take him. Geralt was big, it was almost hard for him to fully fit inside her despite how aroused she was. But it wasn't painful, not in a bad way at least. She loved the way his cock stretched her, almost impaling her on it when it was all the way in. The burning only added to her pleasure, the knot in her belly tightening with the promise of her orgasm.

Geralt set a fast, torturous pace, earning a string of incoherent moans each time he touched that special place deep inside her. She could feel him twitching inside her as her walls closed around him, desperate to hold him in place. It was almost too much and not enough at the same time, a mixture of feelings born of her need for relief. The sound of skin slapping against skin combined with her cries of pleasure and Geralt's grunts filled the room. It was loud and she wouldn't be surprised if she discovered that someone passing through the corridor could hear them, but she didn't care. She felt too good to worry about anything else.

The pleasure she felt was so intense that she had trouble keeping her eyes open, her heavy eyelids closing involuntarily against the force of Geralt's thrusts. But each time she did, he tightened his grip on her jaw, growling in her ear for her to open them. The image reflected in the mirrored surface was too much for her to take. Her small figure wrapped in the strong arms of her lover towering over her and making her feel even smaller and more insignificant. The bulge forming in her lower belly with each thrust showed just how deep inside her Geralt was. His teeth on her neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin without taking his intense gaze away from her eyes in the mirror. And finally, her face, with parted lips letting out a string of melodious moans, and glassy eyes filled with tears that threatened to escape at the sheer intensity of what she was feeling. The expression of pure pleasure on her face was one she had never seen on her before  —and she feared that after tonight she would never see it again.

It was all too much for her, and the possessive way Geralt was acting didn't help her in the slightest. He was determined to leave a mark on her, both physically and mentally. He wanted her to see traces of him on her own skin after he was gone, but he also wanted to make sure she remembered him. Make sure she remembered the intensity of the moment and the way he had made her feel. He wanted her to think of him every time her future husband left her unsatisfied, touching herself to relieve the pressure inside her as images of him in this very moment flashed through her mind. 

He made sure to let her know his intentions between grunts of pleasure, feeling her walls close around his member with every word that left his lips. She liked it as much as he did and that only egged him on.

"Geralt, please," she begged, not quite sure of what it was she was asking of him. Please stop because the pleasure traveling through my veins is too much to bear? Please keep going and don't stop until I'm passed out from exhaustion and you've ruined me for the rest of the men? She wasn't sure, both options were equally valid.

"I know... just let go," he encouraged her, his warm breath crashing against the skin of her ear as he spoke. "Just let go for me, princess."

Her body took his words as a command and it wasn't long before the knot in her belly snapped, sending wave after wave of pleasure through her insides. Her orgasm hit her like a pile of bricks, leaving her completely stupid. Geralt's name escaped her lips like a prayer as she lost herself in pleasure. All thought left her mind, she could only feel as her lover's thrusts slowed, her body trembling in his arms from overstimulation.

She only had a couple of seconds to recover, whining as she felt empty when Geralt pulled away from her momentarily. Her legs were weak and she struggled to stand, so he took her in his arms and laid her down on the bed carefully. He settled into the space between her legs, taking a moment to admire her and caress her body before continuing. His hands ran over her warm, sweat-covered skin in an almost gentle way, an act that contrasted with the roughness of his behavior so far but was nonetheless welcomed by her.

The tenderness didn't last long, though, because once he slid his cock inside her once more, he returned to the animalistic grunts and punishing rhythm of his thrusts. This time it was more desperate and erratic, letting her know that he was close to his own orgasm. His cock twitched inside her, threatening to paint her velvety walls with his seed. The very idea was enough to have her on the edge again. 

"You feel me, princess?" He said, taking one of her hands and bringing it down to her lower belly. He pressed it against her skin, trapping it between his palm and the bulge forming there from his cock. It added a new sensation and she couldn't contain the moan that escaped her throat. "Feel how deep inside of you I am?

"Fuck," she cursed, eyes rolling back as her free hand clutched at Geralt's wrist to make sure he didn't move it off her belly. The pressure felt too good, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her with a force that left her breathless.

"I'm the only one who gets is deep, f-fuck, the only one who makes you feel this way." He wasn't asking, it was a clear statement, but still she nodded, letting out repeated affirmations between high-pitched moans.

"I belong to you... My body is forever yours, no one will ever make me feel this good." The animalistic growl he let out at those words almost pushed her over the edge, leaving her on the verge of her second orgasm. She knew he was close too, she could feel it in his erratic thrusts and the way his cock twitched inside her. She needed to feel him come undone for her, to paint her walls white as he emptied his seed inside her. She needed him to mark her, to claim her as his own. They both knew a relationship between them was impossible, but she would always be his in secret. Her body would always miss him.

"Please, I need to feel you." She managed to say between moans and ragged breaths. "I need you to fill me up, please." She sounded pathetic at this point, but she didn't care. All she cared about was feeling Geralt's seed trickling down her thighs as she tried to catch her breath. 

The witcher groaned, a cocky smile playing on his lips. One of his hands flew to the headboard of the bed, the wood creaking under his strong grip as he adjusted his position. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper —if that was even possible—, impaling her on his cock as she cried out in pleasure. Her nails dug into his back, leaving traces of red marks on his skin.

"You're desperate for it, aren't you?" he teased her arrogantly. "Don't worry, princess, I'm gonna shoot my seed so deep inside of you that you'll carry it for days. Is that what you want? You want me to mark you as mine? You want to feel me between your legs while you swear loyalty to your husband?"

"Yes! Fuck, Geralt, please... mark me, claim me as yours, please." 

The witcher did not expect to find it so erotic to hear her admit her deepest desires, but he did. It awakened something inside him, a primal desire that took over his body. He became an animal, a fierce, possessive wolf that was desperate for some relief. After all, that was exactly what their relationship was, pure animal instinct, pure lust and desperation. An intense attraction they couldn't resist even when they knew how wrong it was.

He came with a loud grunt, emptying his load inside her warm, tight walls. She felt every drop of it, her cunt filled to the brim with his desire for her. The intensity of his orgasm triggered hers, her body trembling under Geralt's weight, her walls tightening around his cock, milking him for everything he had. His name fell from her lips as pleasure consumed her, a prayer begging him to stay with her. He knew it was impossible, but in that moment - mind clouded with pleasure as he felt her crumbling beneath him - he really considered it. He wanted to feel her body against his again, hear the sound of her voice as she moaned his name outside of his memories. He needed her.

But that was just a fantasy, the desire for the impossible. She was a princess who was soon to be married and he was a witcher who had nothing to do with the court and royal affairs. She was not his —even if her body was— and he was not hers. And that was the hard truth. So when he came to his senses he rose from his place on the bed, where he rested with her beside him. The princess watched him as he dressed, trying to ignore the strange feeling of emptiness that came over her at the thought that once he crossed the threshold of the door she would never see him again.

"Will I ever see you again?" She asked in a whisper, as if afraid of being heard. Geralt admired her naked figure on the bed as he contemplated his answer, liking the way the dim candlelight illuminated her skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. As wrong as it was, he would really like to see her again, but the truth was he didn't know if it would happen. The future was uncertain, especially in his line of work, so to give her a straight answer would be to lie to her.

"Only time will tell."

[ariestrxsh]

*˖ ݁𖥔.𓀏·:*¨༺ .♱.✮.♱. ༻¨*:·𓀏.𖥔 ݁ ˖*

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, pure filth, rough unprotected sex, creampie, masturbation, voyeurism/exhibitionism, degradation, humiliation, ripping clothing, mean!matt, roughdom!matt, cuckhold!matt, bratty!reader

📝 author's note: 📝 this is the second part of this fic. you can read part one here. 💖 storyline will be hard to follow if you don't read them in order.

✍️ Summary: ✍️ After Matt loses a bet to his brother, Chris, he has to watch Chris have his way with you, his girlfriend. Once he sees how much you are enjoying Chris' company, he has to remind you who really owns you.

*˖ ݁𖥔.𓀏·:*¨༺ .♱.✮.♱. ༻¨*:·𓀏.𖥔 ݁ ˖*

she thinks of me part two

"You've been dreaming about fucking Chris, huh? Is that so?" Matt gruffly asked me as he pulled out his meat.

Was this really happening? I'd always wanted to know what it would be like to be hate fucked by Matt. I nodded slowly while I looked back at him as I was on the bed on my hands and knees like he'd ordered. "You like making a fucking fool out of me, you dirty little slut? The deal was that you were gonna fuck Chris, not that you were gonna like it, cum all over his cock, and then tell him this pussy belongs to him," he growled through gritted teeth while he roughly shoved his rod into me. I gasped.

"I bet you'd fuck him again given the chance," Matt said, jackhammering into me harder than he ever had before. "Answer me!" He yelled. I nodded at him, which caused him to shove my face into the pillow and thrust harder and faster. "Mmm, you're such a little slut. I can't believe all that shit you were saying to my brother. I bet if you could have us both at the same time, you would, wouldn't you?" He breathlessly grunted while he continued to pound into me with the force of a thousand suns.

I loved the way he was talking to me, and I'd do and say anything to keep it going. "Yes, please," I moaned, and I meant it, but Matt could barely hear me since my voice was muffled by the pillow. "What was that, slut? Speak up," Matt grunted as he grabbed me by my hair and lifted my head, so that his lips were practically touching my earlobe. "Yes, please!" I repeated.

The only thing better than Matt sexually punishing me would be if Chris joined him and fucked me in the same aggressive manner.

"Cheap little whore," he rasped into my ear, and he threw my head back down as he chuckled at how pathetic I was. I felt myself tighten around him as my first orgasm tore through me. An involuntary yelp passed through my lips as I relaxed into my climax and fell limp beneath Matt's vengeful touch. He didn't slow down his strokes one bit.

"Chris could never fuck you like I could fuck you," Matt said through clenched teeth, and he was right. Regardless of how animalistic, hedonistic, and passionate Chris was when he fucked me and no matter how much I loved it, Matt was topping it. But without having watched Chris fuck me, Matt never would have been able to tap into this level of anger and passion, and neither of us could deny it.

"Please punish me for cumming all over your brother's cock, Matt. I'm such a naughty little whore," I cried out as my second orgasm brewed within me. "Tell me who owns this pussy, and you better not give me any fucking wrong answers," Matt threatened me, baring his teeth. "It's yours, Matt! My pussy is all yours!" I cried out as I clenched around him once more.

I couldn't hold myself up anymore. I gave into futility while Matt continued taking what was his. "That's right. I'll just have to fuck the idea of him out of your head, and then we better not have this misunderstanding again," Matt responded in a deep growl. The way his voice echoed throughout my being sent me over the edge one last time, and this had an effect on Matt this time, causing him to bust inside of me. He filled me with his liquid and grunted loudly as he delivered a few last powerful thrusts.

I was completely spent. After climaxing four times back to back, I was an absolute mess. I must have laid there, not moving, for about five minutes after Matt was done, just taking in the experience. He got dressed, left the room, and didn't say anything.

That was undeniably the best sex we'd ever had in the two years we'd been together, and I'm sure Matt had to leave to go process the experience as well, because I could tell he was actually mad. He was definitely the jealous type and possessive, but he also definitely got off on watching Chris fuck me, and we could all tell, and I'm sure it was fucking with his head.

Did he love watching me with Chris? Did he hate it? Does he love to hate it? It was all very complicated and intricate.

All I knew was, I needed to fuck Chris again or at least make it known to Matt that I wanted to fuck Chris again, because now that I'd had angry, hateful, and violently good sex with Matt, I could never go back.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Matt and I didn't talk about the incident for several days. He was even rather cold and short with me for the first twenty-four hours after it happened, but things seemed to slowly return to normal. "Meet me at my house in an hour. I wanna have a special date night with you," Matt texted me. My face lit up. I loved when Matt would plan dates for us, and I wanted to surprise him, too. I put on a red laced teddy underneath my oversized sweater. Seeing me in red lingerie would always drive Matt crazy. I did my makeup, grabbed my overnight bag (just in case), and headed out the door.

The autumn leaves were dwindling from the branches on the trees outside as fall slowly turned to winter, and the air was growing cooler. The sun was starting to set earlier and earlier, so I was surprised when I went out to my car and had to turn on my headlights even though it was only 6 p.m. I made my way to Matt's house, taking all the backroads to avoid red lights, but also because the scenery was prettier. I had an indie folk playlist playing softly in the background as I took in the view and passed through Halloween-decorated neighborhoods.

Finally arriving at the Sturniolo household, I realized Matt's car wasn't there yet, but I'd just use the key Matt has given me for our six month anniversary. He even had it decorated for me with rhinestones. I checked my phone after I shut off my car and saw that Matt had texted again. "Sorry, traffic. Running about 15 min late," it read.

I slowly turned the key in the lock and let myself in. The house was quiet and mostly dark, so I assumed I was the only person there. I started to stroll to the kitchen to grab myself a glass of water when I heard a faint whimper, and as I approached Chris' room and noticed a soft light pouring into the hall from his bedroom, I realized he was home, and the sounds were coming from him. I slowly approached the slightly open door and peeked in.

I took in the glorious sight of Chris sprawled out on his bed, laying halfway under his blanket with his hard member in one hand and in the other, my black panties from the other day, just like I'd imagined when he'd shoved them into his pocket. The lighting was dim, but I could see everything I needed to see.

He had a delighted expression on his face. He was smiling but biting his lip, and every few strokes, he'd release his bottom lip from his teeth, throw his head back, and open his mouth further to let out a moan. He intently stared down at his cock. His tumescent head slowly leaked with a bit of pre-cum, and his hand was gliding slowly but skillfully up and down his length.

I felt a warm, wet sensation forming between my legs while I peered in at him. It was so hot to watch Chris in such a vulnerable state, completely unaware that he had an audience.

"Take that cock, princess," he grumbled under his breath. "Yeah, you like having Matt watch us?" I was so flattered to have made my way into Christopher Sturniolo's sexual fantasies. I couldn't get enough of the sight I was taking in. He was so thorough and methodical, paying special attention to the tip, running the pads of his fingers over the glistening slit, stroking the backside of his cock almost as if tracing his veins. "That's it, pretty girl. Cum all over my cock," he whispered to himself in between his delicious moaning sounds.

I mindlessly started rubbing myself over my clothes, applying pressure against my mound with my palm. I bit my lip to keep my whines stifled. I watched as Chris started bucking his hips up towards his clenched fist, and I could tell by his movements, the expression of pleasure he wore on his face, the sounds spilling from his mouth, and the irregular pattern of his breath that he was starting to lose control.

I was so entranced by what I was witnessing that I didn't hear Matt come in through the front door or feel him come up behind me. Suddenly, Chris reached his breaking point. His sticky, white matter ejected from the tip of his cock like a geyser or a water fountain, and I admired the way it shot onto his bare stomach, a bit of it pooling into his belly button and leaving his hip bones covered in a sheen of his own fluid while he tightly gripped my panties in his other fist.

"Hey, Chris, shut your fucking door while you're jerking it, freak!" Matt's voice boomed behind me, and before Matt pulled the door closed, Chris made eye contact with me for a fraction of a second and the way I was reaching between my own legs for some relief while I watched him with a shocked but aroused look on my face. His beautiful blue eyes were glazed over, and he shot me a smirk that silently asked me, so, did you like watching me cum to the thought of you? I could tell by his demeanor that he liked that I had been peeping in on him. The view was taken away from me by Matt closing the crack in the door angrily.

"So, you like watching my brother play with his cock, huh? Why didn't you go help him, you little slut?" Matt inquired in a condescending tone while his warm breath lingered on the back of my ear. I turned around wide-eyed with my jaw hanging open, not sure what to say. He pulled my sweater off of me, pulled down my pants, and left me standing in the hallway outside of Chris' bedroom in nothing but my red lingerie I'd put on for Matt. His frustrated expression morphed into a primal one. "You look so fuckable in this," Matt growled, "but I can't devour you in it."

He tore my lingerie off of me, literally ripping it with his bare hands, and I gasped. He unzipped his pants, pulled his cock out, and spun me around. After pushing me up against Chris' shut bedroom door, he plunged his hard package into me. I gasped and let out a yelp as he started fucking me with incredible vigor.

"Mmmm, so wet. Is that from watching Chris beat his meat?" Matt cooed. "Yes," I whimpered. "Yeah, I bet you wanna fuck him again," Matt chuckled, wrapping his tattooed arm around my neck to hold me still. "More than anything," I cried out while he slammed into my pussy over and over. I found myself simultaneously humiliated and extremely turned on by the fact that Chris could hear everything from the other side of the door and that he couldn't even really leave until we were finished. I wondered if Chris could be stroking himself towards another climax while he listened to Matt punishing me right outside his room.

"You little fucking brat. You can't stay away from him, can you?" Matt whimpered into my ear while he began to fuck me even more fervently. With every thrust, Matt brought me closer to the brink of orgasm. "Don't stop. I'm so close," I cried out, practically clawing at the door. "I'll only let you cum if you tell Chris who owns this pussy," Matt menacingly whispered. "You, Matt. My pussy is all yours!" I wailed as my body trembled, and I started to rhythmically spasm around Matt's dick. "That's it. Good girl," Matt cooed while I finished on him.

Seconds later, Matt was grunting, filling me with his essence and slowing down his thrusts. He let out a mean chuckle as he pulled himself out of me, and when he did this, a few drops of his cum leaked out of me and onto the floor. "You can come out now, Chris. Thanks for letting us use your door," Matt laughed, zipping up his pants and walking towards the kitchen.

Chris emerged from his room with a flushed look on his face while I balanced myself against the doorframe, trying to catch my breath. He looked me up and down while I stood completely naked in front of him, and I looked him up and down, noticing how red and swollen his lips were from him biting them and the outline of his hard on in his sweatpants.

"Listen, I'm not trying to get between you and Matt," Chris told me in a hushed voice. "Well, please try, because the more jealous he gets of the way we interact, the better our sex is," I whispered while I looked into his dreamy blue eyes. He bit his lip.

"Did you like watching me? Because I fucking loved listening to you," his voice grew deeper and quieter. I licked my lips at him and slowly nodded, "I loved every second of it." I bent down to pick my clothes and my torn lingerie up off the floor, feeling Chris' eyes watching me, and I strode off towards the kitchen to talk to Matt. Chris trailed behind me.

part three posted here 💖

taglist: @ariithereyet @bsturnzmtt @sofieeeeex @ribread03 @fratbrochrisgf @sturniolo-girl @strnlxlqve @sturnzluv @gwennybenny @theeternaloptimistt @sleepysturniolo @hearts4thetr1pl3ts @witchofthehour @slutforsturnioloss

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Hide & Seek.

Post prison Reid x Reporter!reader

Read part two here!

Summary: The night with your boyfriend is going perfectly, and you couldn't be happier, until he receives an unexpected call telling him that information about an important case has been leaked to the press, and many doubts about you appear.

Words: 2,5k.

TW: mentions of crime and trauma (normal warnings in the serie). established relationship. angst without a happy ending. mistrust and lack of communication. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Again I apologize in advance for this, but I love exploring Spencer's character and his changes. It's so funny to know that the one from the first seasons would never do this but I love him anyway.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Your smile couldn't have been bigger at that moment.

After several weeks of work and no time to see your boyfriend or send him more than two text messages, you finally find yourself humming cheesy love songs next to him and hugging him whenever you want. You had only been in his apartment for a few hours after the universe and all the stars had aligned so that neither of you had to work that night and you could have your long-awaited quality time together. It was certainly much needed for both of you and could be a bit of a celebration for finally getting a raise.

The sweet smell of the candles you both had placed on the table mixed with the ingredients on the countertop, creating a much more homey atmosphere. After much thought, the two of you had decided to make some homemade cookies with different fruits to eat yourselves and give some to your friends. You had always loved baking, especially when it came to desserts, and being able to do it with Spencer was even better. Although you knew he was only doing it to make you happy because he was pretty clumsy in the kitchen.

“I think you have some flour here, sweetheart.” You could feel him running his finger over your face, laughing as he smudged you, then stepping back a little to look proudly at his handiwork. “You look so cute.”

“Really? You want to play, Dr. Reid?”

You raised an eyebrow and gave him a menacing look, and made a quick move to smear some flour on him and get on the same terms. But you barely managed to mess him up a bit when he gently grabbed your wrists and planted a kiss on your lips, pushing any thoughts of revenge from your mind.

“You cheated, it's not fair.” You murmured against his lips as you both pulled away from the kiss.

“I didn't do anything.” He replied in an innocent tone, kissing you briefly before pulling away to feed the cat. “I think this kid has been eating cookie dough because he doesn't want to eat his food.”

“He's an unruly kitten, just like his daddy.” You said as you watched Spencer pet him and laugh at your bad joke.

The two of you had officially been together for almost a year, but you had known each other for much longer. A coffee shop tucked away in the middle of town was the best place for an FBI agent and you, a news reporter, to meet and start talking. From the beginning, you knew there was something different about Spencer, and it was much more than the fact that he was the only man in the country who didn't know you because he didn't watch television and therefore the news you had anchored for years. He didn't care that your face was what people saw every day and that put you in the spotlight, he liked you for who you were and how you thought about the world.

“I think they'll be ready in a few minutes.” You reported after putting a tray of cookies in the oven.

You were about to ask your boyfriend where he kept the dishes, but when you turned around, you noticed he was still playing with the cat and you couldn't help but smile at how relaxed he seemed. It had been a good idea to convince him to adopt the animal that always followed you home and peeked out of the fire escape. Nothing made you happier than seeing him happy, so you followed your instincts and noticed that the kitchen was still organized as usual. You may not have lived with Spencer yet, but you spent more time in his apartment than yours and had already memorized how a couple of things worked, though you were afraid to tell him because you knew he had trouble opening up too much and taking such big steps in a relationship so quickly.

All your attention was on picking out the prettiest plates and pots for the cookies when his phone rang over the counter. Your hands were still dirty with flour and dough, so you didn't hand it to him and could only read that it was Penelope before you saw him answer.

“Yes, I'm with her now. We're making cookies, and yes, I'll bring you some. Yes, she says hello to you too.” You listened as Spencer repeated into the phone with an encouraging tone.

You barely listened to his conversation because you were nervous it was about work and that he would have to leave so soon.

“You're out of milk, I'm going to the supermarket downstairs.” You informed him quietly after checking the fridge, not wanting to interrupt his conversation. “I won't be long.” You finished, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips before leaving.

He couldn't help but smile like a fool at the kiss and stopped listening to his friend's voice on the other end of the phone for several seconds.

“The full profile was leaked to the press, along with details about the crime scenes.” Garcia's voice brought her feet back to the ground.

“What? How?” He asked blankly, needing to sit down to process the information. “We were very careful.”

Spencer thought the case was already closed, he had filled out the profile himself, they had everything they needed to make the arrest, and Emily had insisted on giving him the night off for it.

“We don't know, but it was on the evening news.”

Wait, the evening news? They were the ones you presented every day. It was strange that you hadn't mentioned it, since you'd just come home from work a few hours earlier, happy about your raise.

“Which channel was the first? Who gave the scoop?” His voice trembled slightly, as if he was a little afraid of the answer because his mind was telling him something he didn't like.

There was a long silence for a few seconds and his anxiety increased.

“You need to calm down and not jump to conclusions.” Penelope tried to be the voice of reason at the time and sugarcoated things a bit. But he insisted that he wanted to know. “She said so...she broke the news a few hours ago and I think that was the first network to do it.”

His whole world seemed to crumble before his eyes again and everything was a blur amidst the feeling of betrayal and bitterness that gripped his body. Every thread in his mind began to connect in just a few seconds, and for the first time in a long time, he hated having that ability.

“Reid, listen, I don't think it was her. Emily said we'd fix it, but you should know before you watch the news.” She tried to defuse the situation, but his words only made them feel more betrayed. “I forgot to tell you before because I didn't want to ruin anything, you looked so happy.”

Since meeting you, Spencer had watched at least a minute of the evening news every day just to see you, and everyone knew it. Only today he hadn't because he'd been busy trying to finish the damn profile so he could get off early and spend some time with you.

“We don't want you to jump to conclusions, we all know her and I don't think she would do this. Maybe it's a mix-up or...”

“Don't do that, don't try to make me feel better when she's the only one I tell about the cases.”

And about absolutely everything. He always talked to you about his dreams, his deepest fears, his hopes for the future, his worst moments, and even things he never thought to say out loud, even to his therapist. All his life he had felt silenced until you showed up to listen to even the most complex thought and his mental discussion of possible names for the cat you both shared and treated like a son.

Since his release from prison, his view of the world and himself had changed. He no longer felt worthy of love or anything good until you came along and insisted on entering his heart and saving him from the emptiness he faced every time he woke up in that dark, lonely apartment that you came to fill with light and the smell of cookies.

It weighed heavily on his heart that the bad thoughts that always haunted him made sense.

“I'll be there soon.” He finished, not paying attention to the thousand and one possible explanations and theories Penelope had given him so as not to blame you for everything.

He ended the call and walked quickly to the bedroom to find your computer for answers. You had been staying with him for several days and always used it for work, so it was on the nightstand. He was about to turn it on when the sound of the front door startled him and let him know you were back.

“Spencer? Where are you? Do you want to play hide and seek?” Your voice echoed through the apartment, coming closer and closer to the room.

There was no movement or sound from him, just silence, until you entered the room and saw him sitting on the bed with your computer in his hands. You couldn't help but be a little startled by his expression.

“Are you okay, love? You scared me.” You spoke as you approached him and took his hand lovingly. “Do you need to use my computer? It's out of battery, but the charger is in my bag.”

The strange thing was that Spencer didn't return your affectionate squeeze, he didn't even kiss your hand like he always did. He just froze in place and looked at you as if he was waiting for you to confess to a crime.

“Is something wrong?” You sat down in front of him and grabbed his chin to force him to look at you.

He looked at you for a few seconds and clenched his jaw, pulling away from your touch as if it burned him. “You tell me.”

Confusion washed over you and you bit your lip, trying to think of something that could have changed everything so suddenly. For a second you thought that maybe something had happened at Spencer's work and he had to go now, but his expression and his teary eyes said much more than that. Something serious had happened, you even thought it might be his mother and your heart shrank.

“I know what you did.”

You frowned at his words, trying to find some trace of a joke in all this. “What have I done?”

Once again, the room was filled with silence and his piercing gaze. You made a feeble attempt to approach him to give him some comfort as he looked like he was about to cry, but he rejected you and moved further away from you. He got up from the bed, put the computer down and looked at you as if he expected you to be the one to give the explanation.

“I don't understand this, baby. I really don't know.” You got out of bed and tried to get closer to him.

At your action, he backed away from you.

“Don't call me 'baby'. Don't pretend you don't know what you've done.”

The problem was, you didn't know what you'd done to give him that attitude. It had only been a few minutes since you left and everything was fine, so it didn't make sense that he was suddenly angry.

“I should have seen it coming before, how could I not, why would someone like you notice me? You obviously wanted this, you wanted to use me to get that raise and have all the fresh information.” Finally he seemed to react and started to blurt out everything that was on his mind without any filter. “I was an idiot to think you loved me.”

The confusion in your bright eyes only made things worse for him. His defense mechanism told him that you were an actress, that you must have known him well enough to manipulate him for so long and not even flinch. It made all the sense in the world that the whole perfect relationship you had was a sham, because he never understood how you, who had the fame and beauty to be with any man in the world, could have chosen him, a former addict who had spent months in jail and had more trauma than happy memories, to be your partner.

You took a step toward him, trying to process what he had just said. “I do, you know I love you.”

“Come on, you don't have to pretend anymore, I already know that you leaked the information I gave you about the profile.” He said after pacing the room a few times, trying to control his anger. “And maybe how many times you did the same.”

“Wait, you think I'm some kind of spy or something...you're joking, right?” You tried to make sense of his words, wanting to believe again that it was a joke. It had to be, or the pain you felt in your heart at his rejection would definitely kill you.

The silence that followed his words was enough to know that he was serious.

“You're the only person outside the team I talk to about cases all the time. And you magically get a raise when there's a big leak.” His every word was like a knife in your heart, digging deeper and deeper. “You even broke the news a few hours ago, you're unbelievable.”

That was too much, and it was the move that pierced your heart with the knife.

“Do you really think the only way I can get a raise is to betray you? That I've been pretending for almost a year that I love you for my own benefit? Do you really think I can stoop so low and that my job is worth so little?” You asked him almost pleadingly, as if begging him to tell you no, but in vain. “Tell me it's not so, please. Tell me you don't distrust me.”

Silence. Lots of silence.

“Please...”

He said nothing again and that was answer enough for you. You loved Spencer Reid like you'd never loved anyone before, but you weren't going to let this go. You weren't going to keep begging him to believe you when you told the truth and never gave him reason to doubt.

“Fine. I hope you don't have to come back to me when you realize you made a mistake and ended up with the best you had.”

The pained look you gave him and the tears streaming down your cheeks stayed in his mind as you left your apartment keys on the table and walked away, closing the door behind you at the same time as the oven beeped.

His smile could not have been more nonexistent at that moment.

[queers-gambit]

Love What You've Done with the Place

song by Rascal Flatts

prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 1.8k+

warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.

It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.

So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.

It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.

Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.

His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.

Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.

He liked it. He really did. He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.

Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.

He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.

"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."

"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.

"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."

He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.

"What?" You giggled.

"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."

You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.

Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.

But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.

This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.

He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.

It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.

When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.

How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.

The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.

"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."

"Fuck off with that!"

"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"

Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "

"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"

It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."

This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."

Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.

It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.

However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.

Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.

It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[helioswritings]

“Hey,” Hinata asks you one day, as you both sit on the bed in your dorm, “have you ever been kissed?”

The sudden question startles you, causing you to raise your eyebrows at him. “Huh? What brought this on?”

He shrugs. “Eh, Atsumu talks about kissing sometimes. I’ve never done it.”

“I haven’t either.” You tell him a little quietly. It’s always been a spot of insecurity with you, your lack of experience, especially since people say college is supposed to be the perfect place to experiment and have fun.

You haven’t done any of that, and the only person you hang out with regularly is Hinata, and he’s not too keen on partying either.

“Maybe we should.” Hinata says, a bit obviously.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, okay Hinata. Let me know when you find someone, and then come back and set me up too.”

He nudges you playfully. “No, I mean maybe we should. You and I. Kiss.”

Feeling like you’re dreaming, you pinch yourself a bit, then turn to him with wide eyes when you don’t wake up. “You want to…kiss each other? Why?”

“Practice.” The tone in his voice indicates that it should’ve been obvious to you, but you’re still not convinced you haven’t been asleep or in a coma.

But on the other hand, he’s right. And practice is good, because it’s be embarrassing if you didn’t know how to kiss. No other reason.

You set your textbook down and turn your body towards Hinata. “Okay. You’re right. Lay one on me.”

“Me? Why don’t you do it?”

“It was your idea.”

“But I don’t know how!”

“Neither do I!”

It takes about ten minutes of bickering and researching on the internet for the two of you to figure out what to do. It makes you feel a little silly, looking up how to kiss, but Hinata is looking at you with a fierce determination in his eyes that only rivals the look he puts on when he’s playing volleyball.

“Okay, are you ready?”

He doesn’t really give a response, as it were, he just…kisses you. He’s not bad, if you were being honest, not that you have anything to compare it to.

The two of you kiss for what feels like ages and when you pull away, Hinata’s face is flushed.

“I think we need to do it again.” He tells you. And you agree.

***

It becomes a thing. The kissing. Every time Hinata is over, he always wants to kiss. And you don’t argue! You like it, you do. But it’s also been stirring up feelings in your chest.

You know you like Hinata, you’ve always liked Hinata. You’re of the opinion that someone would have to be an idiot to not like him. But the fact remains that you don’t know how much longer you can take all of the kissing without shaking him so hard his brain falls out of his ears.

Like now. You’re kissing and his hands are sitting very politely on your waist, occasionally twitching and causing you to laugh because it tickles. Your hands are on his cheeks. The swelling in your chest is almost painful.

You pull away from the kiss abruptly and Hinata frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“I understand for the first time. Maybe the second and third, too. But it’s been weeks since then, and we kiss almost every day.”

“I thought that’s what people who date do.” He tells you, a bit confused.

“What do you mean by that, Hinata?” You feel a bit dizzy.

“Aren’t we?”

“No! I don’t think so?”

You think back to every interaction you’ve had over the past few weeks, and more and more the pieces start clicking.

“Oh my god.”

Hinata hands you some water.

You take it, still a bit thrown. You’ve been dating him for ages.

“Can we kiss now?”

He’s lucky you don’t throw him out the window.

[hawkinsbnbg]

Four years after everything ended, Steve and Eddie ran into each other by chance.

In 1990, when Steve stumbled upon Eddie in a coffee shop in Chicago of all places, he didn't expect to end up on his back that night with the other man pounding him into the mattress.

At some point, he was too cock-drunk to care about his dignity so he kept begging Eddie to come inside him.

"What if I knock you up, babygirl?" Eddie nipped at his chin teasingly.

In response, Steve only clenched around the thick cock tighter, earning a guttural groan from the other man.

He bit his lip and smiled sweetly, "Guess you're gonna be a daddy 'cause m'not on birth control right now."

Eddie just cursed under his breath and pulled out to take off the condom. When he slid into Steve again, they both let out a strangled moan.

In the end, Steve had been railed into oblivion with a stomach full of hot cum.

A week later, Eddie sought him out again, wanting to continue their breeding process.

"It's for science," Eddie murmured as he bottomed out inside Steve.

"Yeah," Steve snorted, breathless and a little bit cross-eyed because of how big the other man was. "How noble of you."

"Thank you, sweetheart," Eddie grinned, eyes crinkled warmly. “Think it’s gonna catch this time?”

“Dunno,” Steve wrapped his legs around the resilient waist as the other man started moving, grazing his sweet spots effortlessly. “But we should keep trying until we succeed.”

“You’re right,” Eddie leaned down and kissed him soundly. “Fuck, you’re always right, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, uh–” Steve mewled and rolled his eyes back when Eddie nailed his prostate. “I– I tried my best.”

“My good girl,” Eddie kissed him again but it was messy and sloppy. “So smart, so pretty. Bet you’re already thinking about our children’s education, hm?”

“Y– Yeah,” Steve nodded blindly, jaw hanging open so Eddie’s tongue could fuck his mouth.

At this point, he didn't know what he was even talking about anymore. He just babbled nonsense and drooled at the mindless pleasure that coursed through him incessantly.

Above him, Eddie kept going on and on about how they were going to make a happy family, how he was going to be a great mom, how Eddie was going to be the kind of dad who would spoil their children rotten.

And yeah, Steve found himself very into the idea. Not only the hypothetical pregnancy part but also the part where he and Eddie built a home together.

“Be mine, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered between the kisses, desperate and pleading. “Gonna treat you right, gonna be a good husband for you, gonna make you breakfast, gonna help you pick the lawn, gonna sing ABBA songs with you, gonna do the dishes for you, gonna give you my everything, gonna–”

“Shut up, I’ll be yours,” Steve clung to the other man and sobbed. “All yours, Eddie. All yours.”

It was a long time coming, an overdue confession that neither of them had been brave enough to tell each other.

But now, now when their family and friends and the fucking world were finally safe, they had nothing to fear anymore.

They were as free and in love as they could ever be.

And when Eddie’s lips met his own in a tender kiss, it felt like coming home.

A quick stroke on his neglected cock was enough to tip Steve over, prompting a high-pitched moan from him and sending sparks flying in his blurry vision.

Eddie followed after him immediately, burying inside him to the hilt and filling him up with a deep groan.

After a few seconds, Eddie pulled out carefully and drew him in a lazy kiss before collapsing beside him.

For a moment, they just lied there to recollect their wits.

“You meant it?” Steve asked quietly once they both calmed down, afraid that it was just sex-addled talk.

“Everything,” Eddie propped up on his elbow to look at him seriously. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I do you, baby.”

“Me too,” Steve smiled softly. “Been waiting for you, Eds.”

“I’m honored, sweetheart,” Eddie gave him a warm smiled.

Then they moved away from the wet spot to cuddle.

Later, they would have to get up to take a thorough shower, and maybe order something to eat if the mood struck.

But for now, Steve was content to doze off in his boyfriend’s loving arms.

[annabelinlove]

Tattoo

Pairing: Wolfstar x reader (Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x Reader)

Summary: You wanted to get your first tattoo

Word Count: 2k

Notes: fluff, fem!reader, no use of Y/N, language, English isn’t my first language, lmk if I missed any

“I wanna get a tattoo,” you mumbled with food in you mouth, looking at your plate of spaghetti, but the boys didn’t seem to hear you. Sirius was too preoccupied inhaling his food and Remus was looking at him in bewilderment, he could never understand how he could eat like this and not suffocate himself.

“I’m sorry dove, what was that?” Remus turned his gaze to where you were sitting right in front of him. But before you could say anything he turned his attention back to Sirius. “Siri, you’re gonna choke, if you keep eating like this, my star,” he tried to get Sirius to stop but the boy in question just playfully winked at him and kept eating. You took a deep breath; you knew that it was now or never. You swallowed your bite and said out loud.

“I wanna get a tattoo.” That has finally gotten the boys attention. Sirius choked on his food and started coughing loudly, Remus just rolled his eyes, before patting his back and shooting him a look that said I told you so. When your boyfriend finally stopped coughing and could normally breathe, his whole attention went to you, as did Remus’.

“You wanna do what now?” He almost yelled, looking at you stunned, matching Remus’ expression. Both of them knew how much you loved their tattoos, how could they not, when you told them almost every day and you ogled them every time, they were visible. But neither of them had any idea you wanted one as well.

“I’ve been thinking about it for quite some time now, to be honest. I think it could look pretty and, well you know, badass. Plus, you look so cool with yours and I wanna be more like you, get out of my comfort zone as well,” you admitted shyly, not looking at them. Remus noticed your sheepishness and decided to approach it more calmly than his boyfriend.

“That sounds really lovely, sweets. But you know it’s gonna be permanent right? I don’t want you doing something you might regret. I’m all for getting out of your comfort zone but do it only if you’re really sure.” He said sweetly, but all he could think of was what design you’ve chosen, imagining wild things in his mind.

“Sirius has tattoos he regrets, and I bet you do too, so what if I do as well?” You asked, finally looking up from your plate but your gaze stayed on Sirius’ bicep, where he had Remus has a big dick tattooed. He doesn’t really remember getting it done, he just woke up one day, after a crazy party, with sore arm and a new tattoo. He blames James and Marlene for it. You know he secretly likes it (because it’s true) but regrets it because Remus gave him a really hard time about it, when he found out. He secretly likes it too and it boosts his ego, but he would never admit it.

“Sirius is an idiot who gets every stupid shit tattooed on his body. You can’t compare yourself to him, dove” Remus also looked at Sirius’ bicep, blushing a little bit.

“Heyy, you love my body with every stupid shit on it, and we all know it.” Sirius imitated him, playfully looking offended before continuing speaking. “Yes, I wish I didn’t get some tattoos done and that’s okay, I’m fine with it, we just don’t want you to make the same mistake. Especially with your first tattoo, that’s a big deal. You never forget your firsts.” Sirius winked at you, proud of his innuendo. You blushed, knowing damn well it was true, the memory of your first time with your boys came to your mind. You quickly blinked to get the image out of your head, looking at the smirking boys who knew exactly what you were thinking about.

“I’m not gonna regret it, I’ve gave it a lot of thoughts and I already know what I’m gonna get.” You smiled at the idea of you finally having a tattoo, just like your lovers.

“Okay then, I’m gonna book you with my favorite artist, he’s amazing and always does an amazing job” Sirius beamed at you.

“I thought I was your favorite artist.” Remus pouted at his boyfriend playfully. He was responsible for at least half of Sirius’ ink and Sirius was always bragging about it to everyone who cared to listen.

“And you are my love, I just think that your first tattoo should be done by a professional.” Sirius tried to defend himself, even tho he knew his boyfriend was only joking.

“Are you calling me unprofessional?” Remus teased him more, “And wasn’t your first tattoo done by James?” You added into the teasing, grinning wildly. Sirius gave you both the middle finger, rolling his eyes before continuing to eat, not having anything to defend himself with. Remus laughed loudly at his defeat, looking at him with love.

“I think that’s a good idea actually, to get it done in a professional salon. It could also make you feel more comfortable than one of us doing it.” He shrugged his shoulders, starting to eat as well, but in a much slower pace than his boyfriend, who stuffed his face with spaghetti again.

“I could never feel more comfortable with someone else than you, my loves,” you stated strongly, looking at them with big smile in my face. You were happy that they supported your decision and were happy for you.

———

True to his word, Sirius booked you with his tattoo artist and just in two weeks, you were walking to the salon, with your boys by your side. You couldn’t keep the excitement at bay, as you were almost skipping on the way. You couldn’t be more excited to have a tattoo on your own. People always saw your two boys with tattoos on almost every inch of their bodies, especially Sirius, and gave you weird looks when you admitted you didn’t have any. Now you could finally show them as well as have something new to bond over with Remus and Sirius. They kept asking you about the design you decided to have permanently inked on your body, but you were adamant on it being a surprise and didn’t show them, no matter how persistent they were.

They insisted on going to the salon with you and as you stepped inside, you were glad. The tattoo artist sat you down on a chair as he went to get everything sorted and the fear of needles suddenly hit you and you gripped both of their hands. Both of them immediately noticed and Remus placed a soothing hand on your cheek.

“Are you feeling okay, dovie?” He asked gently and rubbed your cheek soothingly. You swallowed the lump in your throat before answering. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a tad bit nervous.” You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at their tattooed hands and wondering how much it had to hurt.

“You know, you don’t have to go through with it, if you’re not sure. We can walk out right this second.” Sirius lifted your chin so you could look o his serious expression.

“But I want to have a cool tattoo and be hot.” You whined slightly and Sirius’ eyes widened.

“Woman, your are the hottest person to ever live! You’re so hot, I can't believe we haven’t melted yet” He shrieked and in the corner of your eyes, you could see Remus rolling his eyes at Sirius’ loud proclamation but he smiled nonetheless.

“He’s right, you know? You’re smoking hot, with or without tattoos. If you don’t wanna do it, or you’re not sure, we can get out and you’d still be the hottest, more beautiful person to ever walk this earth.” He stated, giving you his most sincere look so you knew he wasn’t joking. You giggled, all the anxiety leaving your body.

“Thank you, but I’m sure. I wanna do this, I really do.” You breathed in and with that, the artist joined your and asked the boys to leave so he could tattoo in private. They both gave you a last look, silently asking if you were sure and when you gave them a nod and a big smile, they both kissed your cheeks and went to sit in the waiting room.

After an hour, the guy was wrapping up your new tattoo. The pain wasn’t even that bad, and the man was talking to you the whole time, helping you with distraction. You put on your (Remus’) sweater, not wanting the boys to see just yet, and went to the reception to pay and leave. He gave you a huge discount, thank to Sirius, and with a promise to see him soon, you left to get your lovers. The second you walked into the waiting room, Sirius jumped to his feet, rushing to you.

“Show me, show me, show me.” He begged like a little boy who is waiting to get a present. Remus walked slowly to the two of you and once again, placed a hand on your cheek.

“How are you feeling, sweets? Are you fine? Was the pain okay?” He asked, wanting to make sure you were okay. You smiled at them, the smile hurting your cheeks as you took both their hands in yours.

“I’m amazing. It was fine, didn’t hurt that much and we talked the whole time.” You calmed him down. Remus looked like he wanted to say something but Sirius jumped in.

“That’s amazing, love. Now show us!” He really looked like a kid, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“I wanna show you when we get home.” Sirius looked like you took away his favorite toy, pouting. Remus laughed at him and went to the exit, holding the door open for you and your whining boyfriend.

“You’re killing me, you know that? I’ve been waiting for two whole weeks.” He trailed after you, like a dog with his tail between his legs.

“See, you’ve waited for this long, you’re gonna survive the few extra minutes.” Remus gave him a kiss on the cheek, taking his hand and you all walked back to your shared apartment.

The second you arrived home, Sirius insisted you show them the tattoo. I’m gonna throw myself out the window if I don’t see it this second, were his exact words. Surprisingly, Remus agreed with him, proclaiming you’ve teased them long enough, with a smirk on his face. You took of the sweater as well as your shirt, taking a deep breath. You were a bit nervous about their reaction. Their eyes fell on your collarbones where the new tattoo laid.

Canis Major (the constellation Sirius was named after) on one side and the Lunar phase on the other. Both boys had their mouth wide open, staring at the ink on your body.

“Is- is it real?” Remus whispered, like he wasn’t with you at the salon. Both him and Sirius walked closer, wanting to have a better look. You nodded, too nervous at their silence to speak out loud.

“I can’t believe you did that.” He said quietly and softly, his eyes never leaving my collar bones.

“You don’t like it?” You asked meekly, scared that they hated it. Sirius whipped his head to look you in the eyes so quickly you were surprised he didn’t break his neck.

“Are you kidding? I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. It’s just..” he said but trailed off, fishing for words. He looked almost insulted when you suggested they didn’t like it.

“We absolutely love it, my sweet girl. We just can’t believe you’d tattoo something with a connection to us.” Remus added, looking at you gently, his eyes full of love. You looked at him in absolute shock.

“Of course I’d tattoo something with a connection to you. You’re my whole world.” Sirius and Remus looked at you like you hung the stars for them.

“And you are ours, our lovely girl. It’s fucking perfect, just like you. I couldn’t love you more.” Sirius said kissing you deeply, before passing you to Remus who did the same thing.

“I can’t believe you did that, my love. Thank you.” He leaned his forehead against yours, his love for you radiating off of him. You basked in their love before Sirius gasped loudly.

“Wait! You’ve let a stranger look and touch you without a shirt on?”

[chocolatetittymilk]

“I’m in love with you!” Series

Alhaitham x reader Summary — Alhaitham has never been one for social interactions - in fact, neither of you knew each other in the first place. His pride never allowed anyone to befriend him fully. Until you decide to confess your love to him bluntly one morning, ultimately changing his perspective about you. TW : angst-comfort, unrequited love, strangers to enemies to lovers, possible smut, aged-up characters word count : 2.9k

pt. 1 - "Excuse me?"

“I’m in love with you.”

“Excuse me?”

You both stood in the middle of a park, some corny shit out of some little kid romance film.

“I’m in love with you.”

Bags on the back of both of you, freshly out of class.

“This is what you dragged me out here for? Tch.”

He scoffs a little, almost like it’s a joke. The wrinkle in between his eyebrows was even more prominent. He’d never been one for jokes or wasting time. In fact, he hates wasting time. Even more so when it's people wasting his time.

But you don’t flinch, not a hint of hurt. Just a straight face while holding your books in your arms: like a fucking schoolgirl. (even if you technically are one)

He goes to open his mouth, reject you and move on with his day. Only, you interrupted him quickly, not a stutter or hitch.

“If you don’t feel the same way then I’ll be on my way.”

Not even batting an eye, you turn around swiftly and start walking away. No outburst, no crying, its dramatic flair to his annoyance. ‘Odd.’ That’s all that comes to mind when he watches you leave, not making any move to stop you.

See Alhaitham has always been popular among women; whether it be Valentine's Day or a rainy day, there was always someone wanting to confess their interest or feelings for the silver-haired man. Most of the time it ends with them raising their voices, crying and sobbing. Knowing that his interest in romantic aspects were, well, none.

But this was the first time someone didn't care slightly that someone, little to nothing himself, didn't return the feelings. Alhaitham turns some music on connecting it to his headphones, trying to shake whatever feeling came over him. Envy? Anger? This was one of the rare times Alhaitham had been consumed with something he didn't know logically to do with.

Meanwhile, you walked away not a care in the world. Your friends had hidden behind some trees aways away, trying to see some sort of drama or events take place. Especially with their all-nonchalant friend who didn't care for rejection or romance in the first place.

Coming up behind you, Dehya had a frown on her face. "You seriously didn't care one bit, did you?" It wasn't even a question, more of a statement. Observing your straight face, you raised an eyebrow.

You had asked Alhaitham after a class to meet up with him in the park to discuss something. It went fairly smoothly; he didn't even ask what about. You had thought he probably already had an idea about what it would be about. 'Always the cut-and-dry type.' you thought as you walked.

"Why would I care? What exactly would I care about?" You replied back, with no form of irritation or any negative emotion. 'Typical', Dehya had thought as Candace chose to speak up next, all of you walking towards home. Sun starting to set in the background.

"I mean, you liked him, didn't you?" She started to say, "It's okay to feel bad about it-"

"But I don't. Life goes on, nothing changes. In fact, I'm glad he didn't waste my time with idle chit-chat about, "when" or "how" I ended up liking him. It's so exhausting." You interrupted her, ranting about how it's not that important. Dehya just rolled her eyes, Candace trying to smile slightly at the both of you.

"That's a smart way of thinking about it but... I mean... It can be disappointing too."

You huff a little, eye twitching just a little. 'How irritating.'

"I love and appreciate you both for your concern and, uhm, support. But I do not need it, think of it all as a little experiment." You turned towards them, halting your steps. The three of you standing on the sidewalk, almost to your destination. "It failed and my hypothesis was incorrect. So, it's back to the drawing board." You smile slightly, walking up the steps of your home. Getting out your keys, Candace and Dehya look with a knowing look.

"Wasn't it you who even proposed the setting? Maybe he thought it was a joke since it was at a park..." Dehya offered an explanation, but even she didn't fully believe it.

"It was one of the better settings, it was secluded, away from prying eyes and away from earshot. Quiet and nothing to be distracted by. But maybe I should've chosen somewhere else." You finished, trying to think through all possible errors. "Either way it doesn't matter, what happened, happened. No use in fretting about it."

Dehya gave a grim look, "I didn't mean it like that..."

"It's okay. Plus, we're still studying, still young. I'm not expecting someone like him to be even hint in that direction with anyone. You know Alhaitham." You had a sly little smile on your face as you unlocked the door, glancing at the two girls.

Dehya laughs a little, "Oh we are very well aware... I honestly don't see how you had feelings for that iceman." Stepping inside your house as well with the two of you. Candace makes a face towards Dehya, knowing that it wasn't as polite as it could've been said.

You snorted a little as you got out leftovers. "Well, I took into account his demeanor but also his interests. He cuts to the chase, doesn't like idle-chit chatting, moving towards a career and goal-"

"I think we get the picture... Almost the male version of you." Candace replies cutting you off as Dehya tries not to laugh.

You roll your eyes and laugh a little, "Yeah yeah. So, are we watching a movie?"

"I'll make the popcorn-" Dehya starts to say.

"I call choosing the movie!" Candace says from the living room, already picking up the remote.

'This is all I need anyways.' you think with a smile on your face as you get out the snacks.

The next day was the same, at least both Alhaitham and you tried to go about it that way.

Attending classes, even the ones where the both of you shared. Going to lunch, where most of the time Alhaitham would be reading in a quiet space, teal eyes focused on the pages. Or you would be taking notes while sitting at a table with Candace or Dehya.

Barely a moment slipped passed your mind about him, and you to him.

It was almost like the confession had never happened; everything was in place as if it were untouched.

And, in all honesty, a week had passed with this routine. Each of you living your lives, studying hard to earn your degree. Alhaitham studied mathematics and science (and reading everything and anything in between) to be a scribe to Sumeru. While you studied biology and botany; trying to achieve a Naturopathic doctor of Sumeru for the head scribe. That is why both of you shared science classes in the first place.

Everything going smoothly until a shared class between the two of you. The professor had allowed the rest of the class to be used as studying or note taking; free to leave anytime in between.

"Hey, you're trying to become a doctor, aren't you?"

Alhaitham's ears picked up in the crowded lecture room.

"Yes, a Naturopathic doctor... if that makes any difference." You replied, still focusing on whatever last needed notes to write down. Kaveh sat down beside you, clearly interested in a conversation between the two of you.

'Always the annoying roach.' Alhaitham thought, knowing full well how Kaveh was. Being his roommate definitely had its perks, like constant groceries and good furniture. But that's about it, now that he thought about it.

The constant nagging, scoffs, and judgments from the blonde were the epitome of annoyance. Always, "You're always so cold" "Put away your books they're everywhere" and even "All you ever do is study, one drink won't hurt." The future architect didn't have any sense of routine, at least that's what Alhaitham believed. Except maybe the constant time at the bar for drinks after classes.

"Oh, what type of doctor is that?" Kaveh's eyes were full of curiosity as if he found his new thing to be obsessed with for a week.

"A healthcare professional who practices naturopathic medicine. Naturopathic medicine is an alternative medicine approach that emphasizes using natural medicine and a “whole person” approach to prevent, diagnose, and treat health conditions." You highlighted part of your notes, then shut your notebook, finally looking at the red eyes of the blonde.

"Basically, a doctor whose treatment and medication are plant or nature-based. No fake shit." You give a little fake smile and pack your things up, already slinging your bag on your back.

"You know, you seem pretty cool, wanna catch a drink together? I know this fantastic place, even the dishes are quite tasty-"

"I have studies I need to do, plus I already have some plans with a couple of friends of mine." You cut him off, trying to hurry off in the process. But Kaveh is one of the most stubborn people Alhaitham has ever met.

Alhaitham smirked a little at the rejection, hands pausing to listen. Of course, he wasn't truly trying to pry into the conversation, you both are just so loud. At least that's what he told himself. Trying to tune them out, he focuses back on his note-taking. Plugging his headphones into his ears, drifting off into his little world.

"That's okay! How about your friends and you come by - my friends also go there to get a drink so think of it like a big get-together." Kaveh tried to explain, hoping that his honest to God's idea would work.

You gritted your teeth, jaw clenching. It's not that social interaction was unattainable, but very much not wanted. It was hard enough trying to befriend Candace and Dehya years ago, little to nothing now. Walking out into the hallway towards outside, Kaveh still trails behind you, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know, my friends aren't really keen on big groups, so I'll have to ask them-" Suddenly Candace and Dehya are there waving at you to come closer. 'Looks like they were waiting for me to finish up...' you look a little surprised when Kaveh notices your look. "Are those your friends?" he asks, and without even waiting for your answer he walks up to them.

"Fuck." you mumble as you try to catch up and stop Kaveh from talking them into having a gathering together.

It's not that you didn't like Kaveh, in fact, you bet he's a very nice and kind guy... But you're not one for social events, nor making friends. They require a lot: opening up, spending time together, making time for them, and even dragging you into things you don't necessarily want to be a part of. And, as you watch the three of them talk, I guess this was one of those moments.

"Oh, we'd love to all hangout. In fact, we were all going to do that anyway." Candace smiles at Kaveh, accepting his invitation on behalf of quite literally the whole group. Dehya had a little cautiousness to her but still agreed anyway. Meanwhile. you tried your best to stay composed.

They exchanged words with each other and headed towards your home. 5 pm, that's the agreed time for the get-together. The girls and you had agreed to head back to your place to chill out (or, in your case, study) and then get ready to go.

"Do we really need to do all this unnecessary socializing? What if his friends are weird or perverts." You said, trying on some casual clothes. You knew it was unrealistic to think something of that, but you couldn't help but make excuses. Maybe if you put certain thoughts in their heads then you wouldn't have to endure this social gathering.

Candace is in the background fixing her makeup and Dehya watching from the sidelines. "It'll be finnnee, no need to worry we'll be in a public setting if anything happens." Candace tried comforting you, knowing full well how much you despised idle chitchat.

"Plus, there is our big strong guard dog that will protect us." She made a snide remark, looking towards Dehya who had her eyebrow raised.

You laugh, "Oh yes our big scary guard dog. How could I ever forget her." Candace and you bust out laughing, Dehya replying in an eye roll and sigh going out of the room and into the living room.

"Oh! I also invited Layla; she's been meaning to get out more so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity." Candace mentions as she finishes touching up her makeup.

Layla, always the quiet and tired woman who surprisingly hasn't died from lack of sleep. She's joined our group on the occasion, meeting her from Candace on one outing with them all. 'She's one of the only people I can tolerate for a long while.' You thought, thinking back on how Layla wasn't much of a talker. A commenter? Sure, but not out of any negative intentions, merely out of pure observation.

"Yeah, that's fine, I haven't spoken to her in a while." You concluded as you headed into the bathroom to change.

Oh, this was going to be an eventful night.

"Just go with us for once, it's not a big deal unless you make it one."

Kaveh stood in his and Alhaitham's living room, trying to convince the ever-so-monotone man to join in the fun for a night.

"And why would I waste time with pleasantries when I could be doing something much more productive." Alhaitham concluded, eyes never wavering from the pages of the book set in his hands.

Alhaitham hated wasting time, and what he believed in wasting time was quite a list. Social events, social gatherings, taking unnecessary amounts of notes, pleasantries, and idle chitchat. Oh and of course any and all romantic aspects. He just believed it was unnecessary, boring, time-consuming, and useless.

"And what is productive, Alhaitham? Reading all day? Making more of a mess?" Kaveh scoffed, truly not understanding why the man had no sense of respect for even his roommate.

"Do you need a list?" Alhaitham asked coyly, "I can give you one if you truly need one, Kaveh. Unless you're too busy drinking your sorrows away."

Kaveh just scoffed again, angrily grabbing his coat. "To think I wanted to introduce you to my new acquaintances." He stomped towards the door only to stop by the sound of Alhaitham's indifferent voice.

"And who in their right mind would agree to have a drink with you? I know Cyno and Tighnari are your usual, but besides that, I don't think anyone could tolerate ten minutes of your yapping."

Although, Alhaitham had truly meant what he said - Kaveh's non-stop talking had made a lot of people cut their visits short - part of him was wondering who was joining them. Wondering if it was you who had agreed.

Kaveh turned around sharply, "For your information, it was the girl in our class and her friends who were more than happy to join Cyno, Tighnari, and me. So, pull your delusions out of your ASS!" Kaveh said loudly and defensively, then turned around curtly and headed out of the door.

"The only delusions here are your life, dear Kaveh." Alhaitham muttered, wondering why you had accepted his invitation. 'Is she just interested in anyone?' he had wondered. 'Why does it matter, she's just a classmate.' Alhaitham had settled, yet part of him was curious about you.

Candance, Dehya and you had dropped by Layla's to accompany her to the bar. The four of you walked towards the bar, already spotting where Kaveh was waiting for you at the entrance. Nerves were a bit high already coming closer to the building, knowing you're not the best in social situations. Yet it wasn't as bad as you had thought previously.

'How sweet of him.' you had thought as he greeted each of you, opening the door and showing you to the table they already had.

The air was slightly stuffy due to the cooking and people gathered around, but ultimately it wasn't as loud as you thought it would be. The place was cozy, and the smell of mouth-watering food wafted through the air. 'Looks like Kaveh knows his places.'

Walking towards the table you spot a familiar face, "Tighnari, nice seeing you again." You had sat down next to him, offering him a small smile.

Tighnari smiled brightly at you, "Ah if it isn't the doctor in training! I wasn't expecting you to join us." He leaned in towards you looking at your face. "Did you grow your hair out a little? It's been a while."

Your ears turn a little red, embarrassed by his observation. You cleared your throat a little, "I haven't had time to get a haircut, studies are a necessity to-"

"-to success. Ah still saying the same thing I see." He finishes your sentence, smiling and shaking his head a little.

Tighnari had recently graduated from Amurta, specializing in biology, ecology, and medicine. Exactly what you wanted to study. The both of you knew each other from preliminaries, him registering for his last year in Amurta and you applying for your second year. Three years in total. One year difference. You both had bonded through the mutual interests in biology and medicine, Tighnari going as far as offering to mentor you if needed.

But you had your own things I suppose.

Then suddenly, a deep familiar voice spoke between the two of you.

"Proper care to oneself is also the path to success. Neglecting one's basic needs will only lower your chance of success." He pauses, slyness dripping from his voice, "Unless you're intentionally wanting to fail."

'This cocky piece of shit.'

pt.2 here | ''im in love with you!" m!list

2024 © chocolatetittymilk : do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site.

[bkgml]

katsuki being banished to the couch!

the two of you went out to dinner with your friends, mina and kirishima, for dinner.

you were having a great time, talking and laughing. until katsuki had the bright idea of saying…

“last night, yn was snoring her ass off, i could barely sleep!”

you don’t normally snore. in fact, you think you’re a pretty peaceful sleeper! last night you just had a stuffy nose, it is the middle of flu season!

mina’s eyes widened, she knew you weren’t going to let that slide.

“i had a stuffy nose! you can sleep on the couch tonight since your beauty sleep is being interrupted by my incessant snoring.”

katsuki whipped his head in your direction.

“ooooooo” kirishima snickered.

“no, come on!” katsuki grabbed your hand.

“that’s what you deserve katsuki. you can’t handle my snoring? you can sleep alone.”

katsuki huffed. he loves sleeping with you. he just made a bad joke.

“bye mina! bye kirishima!” you called to your friends.

“bye!!” mina shouted.

you walked home with katsuki. the walk was silent.

“am i really sleeping on the couch?” katsuki frowned.

you smiled, bringing his hopes up.

until you grabbed his pillow and a spare blanket and started walking in the direction of the couch.

katsuki groaned. he wanted to sleep with you so badly. it’s his favourite part of the day.

after you finish setting up his couch-bed, you turned and headed for the bedroom.

“have fun!” you shut the door.

katsuki grumbled, slipping under the blanket trying to get some sleep.

the two of you can’t sleep alone. you both knew it. the warmth of each other was the only thing that could lure you into sleep.

katsuki started counting things around his living room, trying to trick his mind into becoming so bored it shuts down.

you were rubbing your hip while closing your eyes, imagining it was katsukis hand on your skin.

neither of you had any luck. katsuki became fed up and grabbed his pillow, heading towards the bedroom.

you heard his footsteps and closed your eyes, pretending you were sleeping.

katsuki opened the door and walked to your side of the bed, gazing at your ‘sleeping’ figure.

he brushed his hand on your cheek before letting it disappear into your hair. he kissed your temple.

“yn. yn, sweet girl, wake up.”

you pretend to wake up, eyes fluttering open to look at your boyfriend.

you frowned lightly.

“what are you doing in here?” you asked.

he paused, grabbing your hand and pressing his lips into your hand.

“need to sleep with you. ‘m sorry, okay?”

you melt a little bit but your poker face stayed in tact.

“i wouldn’t want to keep you up with my snoring. the couch is probably quieter.” you turn to face away from him.

he frowns.

“baby, you know it was just a joke. you don’t even snore much, it’s pretty fuckin cute when you snore too.” he drags his fingers over your arm rhythmically.

you turn your head to look at him, thinking.

you groan.

“fine, just this once. next time you mess up you can sleep on the porch.” you say, pulling the corner of the duvet up in invitation.

“deal.” he practically jumps into bed grabbing you by your waist and burying his face in your shoulder blades, placing kisses to your skin.

“who said you’re allowed to touch me?” you tease.

“oh.” he frowns, retracting his arms from your waist.

you turn to face him.

“i was just teasing, kats. come here.” you open your arms and he grins, letting his arms wrap around again and nuzzling his face into your chest.

he breathes you in, falling into a deep sleep.

you run your fingers through his hair, kissing his head and allowing your eyes to fall shut.

[lvlyghost]

Hello do you take requests cause I had this idea in my mind but I suck in writing

how bout a ghost x reader where he had a bad day and takes it out on his beloved reader who he's been in a really long relationship with, by starting an argument and maybe saying some really mean and bad things that break the reader. Like the reader is only a shell of herself and completely ruined by ghosts words and just crying or sitting completely still staring off the wall or just staring at nothing just being numb.

What would be interesting is Simons reaction when he realizes the damage that he's done, maybe he would cry/break down idk when he sees the usually happy reader being so dull and almost lifeless yk

But Pleasee don't do this to our hearts and write some comfort and a happy ending please I couldn't handle too much angst❤️😭

The Weight of the World

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: You promised to always lean on each other but sometimes love isn't enough.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

TW: heavy angst, literally got some mid anxiety writing this🥴 swearing, self-doubt, hurt-comfort and slight fluff towards the end. lmk if i missed any.

A/N: finished this in one sitting lol, also not proofread and poorly edited, i've been having a shitty week so expect more angst lol. meet me in therapy. Enjoy anon!🤍🌟🫶���💕

Masterlist✨

You hesitate right outside Simon's studio, the place where he secludes himself from everything and everyone. Ever since he came from his last mission he seemed to be on the edge constantly. The usual softness that he reserved specifically for you was... absent.

Still you wouldn't let that stop you from approaching; having dating him for a few years now let you know so much of that. You knew when he was hurting. When he was sad, angry, jealous or even happy. Little to no people could say that.

Somehow this was different. He wasn't even letting you in, constantly keeping you at arms length and that hurt. How were you supposed to get to him this time? Get him to talk to you?

To look at you again with that same glint in his eyes, the spark that you ignited in him and that won't fade away even years after.

The sound of a chair creaking startles you, the same time the timer in the kitchen goes off. You walk back, turning the oven off, and sticking out the apple pie you so happily baked for both with hopes that you'll get him loosen a bit that dark cloud that's been looming over Simon these past few days.

The door of his studio is yanked open the heavy stomp of his boots resonating across the small apartment you two share, then his bulky frame appears just to grab the keys to his black motorcycle.

"Simon!" You call him, burning your hand in the process. He stills halfway through the living room, waiting for you to say something else. Wetting a cloth hurriedly and wrapping it around the burnt skin.

"I made something for us... maybe," standing behind him you leave a reasonable space between the two. You swallow down hard. "Thought we could have it together and just, you know spend...-"

"I don't have time for that now." His voice is cold and monotone. "Don't wait for me."

"But Si-" he turns on his heels, eyes hard and unyielding. He approaches slowly, making you gulp. "What's gotten into you, Simon?" You fight back the tears, this was the man you loved so dearly, the man you knew loved you back; there was a reason for the golden engagement ring on your left hand. "I..-"

"Fucking hell would you stop that? Please just..." he notices the wetness in your eyes. "I can't do this. Not anymore."

"Whatever it is I promise we can work it out together!" your lips quivered. "Just talk to me!"

"I don't need to talk about anything girl!" He seethes, one finger pointing at you. "Think some cheap counseling with you will make things right? Bloody hell no. Neither some homemade bread, this isn't fucking working and it won't until you learn how the bloody world works."

It breaks your heart into a tiny million pieces, breathing becomes a challenge and the injury in your hand can no longer be felt. Simon's words were worse than any physical pain. Where was the man you loved? The man who used to lift you up and kiss you on the forehead? The man whose hands couldn't stop roaming your body late at night? The man who'd helped you reach out for things he probably put away in the highest shelf so you'd ask for help. That same man that had proposed to you no long ago, right before he was deployed to a special op God knows where. The fabric of his mask moves when he keeps talking but you don't listen. You can't. Just like you can't stop the tears dribbling down your cheeks and the tremble of your hands. Simon's jaw clenched, brows furrowed as he takes a step back and leaves.

You walk sluggishly to where the dessert awaits. It's when your knees buckle that you finally let out a loud cry.

-

Simon knows he isn't a good man. He's done quite questionable things that he could never say out loud. He knows he's fucked in so many ways. But he also knows that there's one thing that kept him from spiraling further down into an abyss of death and self-loathing.

You.

The woman he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The girl that didn't care about his past, the bad moments and his complicated persona. You who would selflessly love him without asking for something in return. What had you seen in him in first place? Even now after three years he can't wrap his head around the fact that he has someone who waits for him.

Simon knows how much he loves you, but what he doesn't know is how—or in what earth—he deserves every part of you.

You've been avoiding him ever since that horrible night. Words he can't take back. Looks that haunt him every time he closed his eyes. He hears you cry when you go to sleep or when you're taking a shower. Muffled sobs and wails that will come for him until the day he dies.

You avoid him like a plague, when he walks in. After all he's the one to blame. He wanted to ask you to tear him apart maybe that'd feel less painful.

The last remaining of sanity that was left in him came crashing down when he began to notice how you stared off in a haze, numbly looking at the window. He was losing you. Destroyed the one good thing he had. So, a few days later, despite his own demons. Despite the things that broke him all irreparably during the last mission in Moscow, he comes to find you. Sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes set on your left hand.

The engagement ring was gone, forgotten someplace unknown. Simon felt the panic wrenching his guts.

It's all on him.

He whispers your name, calls you softly. Slowly sitting in front of you, the coffee table creaks under his weight. Words get caught in his throat.

"May I take your hand?" He pleads, not getting an answer. Simon sighs, lowering his head as silent reigns yet again. "I don't deserve you." He murmurs, eyes bored into the floor. "I... I ruin everything I touch. Just never thought I'd ruin my girl."

Your eyes flutter shut, wet tears clinging to your eyelashes. Simon watches as you stand and leave without a word, he follows close behind to your shared room.

"Love..."

"Don't call me that!" the hurt in your voice... the resentment in your eyes, he's earned it.

Simon reaches out for your arm, grabbing you firmly but gently, mindful not to harm you.

"Right I deserve that." If there's one thing Simon regrets it's being the reason that your eyes no longer shine. "What I said... what happened I...-"

Shaking your head and biting down your lip.

"You never gave me the chance, I thought we said we'd always find a way."

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry baby." in an instant he's pulling you close, although you want to push him away, scream at him, slap him for the calvary he made you go through. "I'm not good with words, and I'm no good person." You feel his body shaking with anxiety as your eyes widen in shock. "I tried... I can't forgive myself for my mistakes."

"Simon..." he hushed you, cradling your head with his big hand. "I can't sleep knowing I can't protect you from what's out there, couldn't bloody protect that kid in Moscow, or my family."

You guide him to the bed, sitting down side by side and holding onto each other.

"Said I would always be with you Simon, why the hell did you push me away?! Have I not given my everything to you? We promised to always make it work!" He grabs your face staring intently into your eyes. "What happened there?"

He blinks, deciding how much to say. There was no need for you to know the entirety of it. He wanted to shield you from the horrors of this world, and he would as long as he lived.

"A young lad whose life's was cut short because I wasn't there on time. How can I come back to you, be happy when someone else just lost their kid..."

"That wasn't on you! Simon Riley you stop that now." He inhales, cinnamon and vanilla flooding his senses. It's you all of you. "Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. We do that together, yeah?" Your chest hurts from how hard it's beating. "You've done far so much. You won't lose me."

A rumble in the sky and cars passing by outside your home is all you hear. Brown eyes like honey stare back into your soul.

"You took it off..."

"I burnt my hand, it wasn't healing properly. And you know what?" He quirks a brow. "It wasn't homemade bread. It was an apple pie, you silly."

"You'll never forgive me for that one won't you?" He doesn't chuckle but the air feels lighter.

"No. Probably won't." Simon takes your burnt hand bringing it to his lips, they're soft against the marred skin.

"But we're still getting married, yeah?" He asks.

You smile fondly, humming when he kisses your forehead, tears have now dried.

"Yeah. We're still getting married."

[reigningqueenofwords]

Pinky Promise

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 1,409

Read on AO3

“I have to go to my aunt’s wedding this weekend. So I won’t be able to play with you alllll weekend. I’m gonna be so bored.” You sighed, lying on the floor of the tree house your father built you a couple years prior. At 10, it was still your favorite place in the world. 

Dean made a face. “That sucks!” He was your best friend in the whole world, and you spent every weekend playing together. “What am I supposed to do? Play with Sammy?” 

You giggled at that. “Guess so.” You smiled at him. “What’re we gonna do when we grow up and get married?” You pouted. “We won’t be able to play every weekend together.” 

“Well, I just won’t get married if I can’t play with you.” He said easily. 

Sitting up, you had the look on your face that told him you had an idea. “What if we make a pinky swear?” You started. “If when we’re 25, we’re not married to other people… we get married.” Why wouldn’t you want to marry your best friend? 

He thought for a minute and held up his pinky. “Alright.” He grinned when you looped your pinky finger with his. 

It had been almost 15 years since that day. You hadn’t thought of that day in ages. Dean was still your best friend, too. That never changed, and neither of you let anyone get between the pair of you. Sure, there had been girls over the years that tried to get between you, but he swiftly dumped them. Chewing on your lip, you pulled up a text to Dean. Do you remember the pinky promise we made when we were 10? You sent. You and Dean shared a birthday, meaning both of you would be turning 25 in just over a month. 

After a few minutes, he replied. Sure do! 😉 He sent, making you chuckle and roll your eyes. Why, what’s up? Meet someone and need to back out? 

Your eyebrows shot up at that. Actually, I was just asking if you remembered. I mean, our birthdays are in a month. Don’t you think you should start looking at rings, mr? 😛 You sent, sitting up and looking around your room. It was December 20th, and you’d be driving home to your parents in a few days. You’d see Dean then, too. His parents lived a block over from yours. 

Who says I haven’t been doing that already? Hmmmm? He countered. 

You highly doubted that was the case. Are you trying to tell me that you, Dean Winchester, man who has never dated anyone for more than a year…has been looking at engagement rings and actually plans to make good on this 15 year old pinky promise? Getting up, you made your way to your kitchen. It was almost dinner time, but you didn’t know if you were actually hungry. Your mind was on overdrive. As you got older, you felt Dean would laugh off your pinky promise. He’d say you were just a couple of dumb kids. 

I take pinky promises extremely seriously. Especially ones with my best friend. He sent, making you smile softly at that. 

Please just don’t propose at Christmas in front of everyone lol That’s too much attention for my liking. You knew he’d understand. Small bits of attention were fine, but you liked blending into the background. He was the more outgoing of the two of you. 

I promise 😀 He assured you. What day are you getting here, anyway? 

The idea of dinner forgotten, you leaned against the counter. On the 23rd. You?  

You watched the little bubbles pop up on your phone, hoping he would get there early, too. Guess I’m getting there on the 23rd, too. Meet me in the tree house? I’ll bring the beer, you bring the pizza? 

Grinning, you giggled. Deal. Meet me there at about 4? 

It’s a date! 

The afternoon of the 23rd, you stepped into your parents house. “Dad!” You called out, dropping your bags. It was 2pm, so you had two hours before Dean showed up. 

“There’s my girl!” He grinned, pulling you into a hug. “How was your drive?”

“Good.” You told him. “We want to hang out in the tree house, but it’s cold. Help me hang up some blankets or something so we won’t freeze?” You asked, keeping your arms around him. 

He chuckled. “I did that yesterday. Dean called and tried to offer to pay for anything I need to make it a bit warmer out there. You could sleep out there. I made it so warm.” He said proudly. 

“Oh wow!” You chuckled. “Thank you! Where’s mom?” Although you’d seen them for Thanksgiving, you missed them a lot. 

“Getting ready for our date. I’m taking her out while you and Dean act like kids in the tree house again.” He kissed the top of your head. 

You laughed, looking forward to this time with your parents, and your best friend. As far as you knew, no one but the pair of you knew of your pact. You never mentioned it to your parents, or other friends. Dean never told you he’d told anyone, and he wasn’t one to be very open with many people. However, you also knew all parents involved would be excited. Your parents loved Dean, and his parents loved you. 

Dean hadn’t been lying. He had been looking at rings for you. He’d snuck into your childhood bedroom and borrowed a ring from your jewelry box when he was there for Thanksgiving. This way, he knew what size ring to get. He didn’t want to risk getting the wrong size. 

What you didn’t know was that part of the reason he never dated anyone for too long was because he kept this pact in mind. It had always been you. He crossed his fingers that you’d both reach 25, unmarried, and not in a serious relationship. 

He pulled into your parent’s driveway, grabbing the beer from the passenger’s seat. Part of him felt like he was coming home every time he got there. Smiling to himself, he made his way to the backyard. He could see some light from inside the tree house, and got excited. You were already in there. “Honey! I’m home!” He called, making his way up. It was a bit awkward with the bag with beer, but he managed. 

“Dean!” You beamed when you saw him. As soon as he was completely in the tree house, you all but tackled him. “I’ve missed you.” You pouted as you pulled away. 

He chuckled. “Well, here I am.” He swallowed. “I have something for you.” 

“Dean, Christmas is in two days. You can’t wait two days to give me my Christmas present?” You teased. 

“This isn’t your Christmas present. That’s in my trunk.” He told you, pulling out the small ring box. “I know we were just a couple silly kids when we made that pinky promise, but you’ve remained my best friend for all these years. You know just what to say on the days where everything has gone wrong. There’s no one else I could ever picture myself being with for the rest of my life. Will you make good on that pinky promise and marry me?” 

Your eyes were wide, and you felt a tear fall down your cheek. “Yes!” You grinned, watching him slip on the ring. “How long have you been planning this?” You giggled. 

“I borrowed an old ring of yours at Thanksgiving.” He admitted. “It’s on my nightstand. Kinda didn’t wanna give it back yet. And we spent a lot of time in this tree house, where else would I propose to you?” 

You couldn’t stop smiling. “Guess we should talk about moving closer together, huh? Or moving in together?”

“Actually…” 

Furrowing your brows, you weren’t sure what he was going to say. “What?” 

He looked proud. “I put a down payment on a house. Just a couple streets over.” He told you. “Your dad already has plans to buy a treehouse in that backyard.” 

“My dad knew about all this?” 

Dean shook his head. “He knows I’m buying that house, and that I’d like a treehouse like this one, but I didn’t tell him I was proposing.” While he knew your dad would approve, your dad might have let something slip. “So, looks like we have a wedding to plan, sweetheart.” 

“Damn right we do!” 

[lialuvsaven]

Pairing: Aventurine x reader

Tw: none, he's just skittish but that's understandable. Might have grammatical mistakes but English isn't my first language so whatever. The « » words are supposed to be the avgin dialect okok that's all

"Will you teach me how to speak the Avgin dialect?"

Aventurine nearly splutters out the sip of wine he was about to drink, and you observe as his whole body subtly jerks — trying to figure out if he misheard you or not.

Blink.

Blink.

Blink.

And yet, the only expression he sees on your face is a little smile, a hint of curiosity and optimism in those lovely eyes of yours. For some reason, he can't find it in him to appreciate that look this time.

"And why is that?" The tone of his voice is reserved, calculated, and for a millisecond, you are reminded of your job: meetings, negotiations and transaction. The air suddenly feels thicker, and although he maintains his usual smile, there's a subtle shift that suggests it may not be as genuine as it was moments ago.

"Because I….want to understand you?" You naively respond, unaware of the warnings you're triggering in his head, unaware of the amount of bells ringing in his ears. The red alarms flashing in front of his eyes are bright, and they blind him to everything else, drowning out your silhouette until he can't make out your face as a familiar one.

All he's seeing is red, red of a warning bell, red of sunset and endings, red of blood and—

"I'm not sure why you even thought that would be a good idea" a small chuckle leaves his mouth, and he shifts a little on the couch in an attempt to regain his belongings.

"After all, I don't even speak it anymore— a dead language is not something you'd benefit from learning."

"But I am a linguist" You counter, huffing a bit. "I wouldn't think a language is “less beneficial” just because it's dead. Besides, Sigonian isn't a dead language, and neither is the Avgin dialect. You are here, and you speak it."

Blink.

"What?" Aventurine grows defensive, and he shifts in his seat again; only a little. It's not okay to let others know of your discomfort, you cannot show your weaknesses. Luckily, you don't notice, and he continues carefully.

"I don't speak it— what are you saying? How could I possibly use that language?"

He picks his sentences with caution, leaving half of it up in the air for you to interpret. He can't bring himself to finish it— he can't use it when everyone else who spoke of it is presumably dead. That would only result in another restless night of futile attempts at subduing the void in his heart. Just because he knows it, doesn't mean he likes to think of it.

Aventurine does not like to remember the fact that he's the only one left of the Avgins, even though the cosmos is merciless in its reminders.

"You do speak it!!" You insist, and look into his eyes, and his eyes almost make you forget the rest of your sentence. "—You say things under your breath. When things go south, or when your catcakes do something super adorable and you can't hold a grin on your face. I've seen you multiple times, talking to yourself in an unfamiliar language. It is your mother tongue, is it not?"

Ah.

The words that escape your lips are curling into itself, flickering through the corners of his mind. I've seen you multiple times. Multiple times. Multiple times. Talking to yourself. To yourself. To yourself.

His mother tongue.

Oh, how he wishes he could talk to someone else, how he longs to talk to another Avgin in his mother tongue— in their mother tongue.

"Do I do that?" He inquires, and you affirm, still wearing a smile. Both of you have been smiling at each other, but only one of you is clawing through the walls of their mind trying their best not to leave the room right this moment. You're not an adversary, he reminds himself. You're not an enemy.

"I can't teach you that." He stares in an unusually cold tone, sending shivers down your spine. A tone Aventurine reserves for when a business deal has gone wry, for when he needs to put on his best performance and come back at the top. Unfortunately, this means there's no room for you to argue, no negotiations, no nothing.

You realize a bit too late that you've made him uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry" Apologies keep flowing from your mouth, but Aventurine can barely hear them. All he knows is the warning bells in his ears are growing fainter, and you are once more becoming recognizable, the blur in your face diminishing by the second.

"It's okay," he laughs softly, ruffling your hair to dispel the gloom on your face.

"I don't remember much anyway- I can't teach you anything meaningful, you know? I think Tanti or any of the likes would do much better for your next research material than my native language. We have a reputation across the cosmos anyway, that language can't be intriguing to people."

"Huh?" You tilt your head in confusion, "I'm not going to write a paper on it though???"

"Then what did you want to learn it for?"

"Did you not hear me? I said I wanted to get to know you better."

The feeling of discomfort is back with that, and Aventurine finds himself trying to figure out how to come up with a valid excuse to end the conversation. If he isn't careful, you'll catch on. And if you catch on, you'll keep insisting on trying to understand him, to mend your mistakes and to avoid something similar in future. Then, he'd simply have to cut you off before you go too far. And he'd rather not cut you off and keep you by his side. Yes please, thanks.

You speak once more, but this time you avert your gaze from his eyes and focus on the soft carpet beneath your feet. "If you're not comfortable teaching me, I won't insist. I apologize if I overstepped. I want you to know that my intentions were not malicious. I simply wanted to learn your language so that we could converse in it, and I'm open to sharing my own language with you if you're interested."

Ah. You've now started to speak with more formal and eloquent words than usual, a habit Aventurine has picked up on thanks to observing you for so many years. You always do that when nervous, along with averting eye contact- and you're now anxious.

"it's okay," he reassures you again. "I know what you mean. So no need to worry, hm?"

His words seem to have given you a confidence boost, because your next words catch him off guard again.

"Also, I found your language to be quite beautiful."

"....Beautiful?"

"Yes," you gesture with your hands as you continue, "it's very melodious, you know? I'm familiar with the Sigonian language, as it was one of the languages I studied during my major. However, the Avgin dialect sounds... different. Of course, you're a very quiet mumbler—obviously— and I couldn't understand much- but I've realized that the Avgin is not only is not only significantly different from standard Sigonian, but it also has a much sweeter sound. As a linguist, it's disheartening to think that this sweetness has gone unnoticed by the world."

The initial panic has completely dissipated for Aventurine, replaced by a sadness even he can't place what for. He has half a mind to laugh, and tell you that his people were sweet too, but no one cared for that either. He wants to say of course it sounded sweeter, the standard Sigonian had always been dry and lacking the warmth, any Avgin would agree with you. And yet, he dares not let the dam loose.

Instead of voicing his thoughts, he decides to observe you, as the ringing in his ears has now completely silenced. The you in front of his eyes is meek, likely because you've assumed you overstepped and made him upset. He hates seeing that expression on you: truly, especially when you shouldn't have to feel that guilt. He knows you well enough to know you're not lying, and for a split second— he entertains the idea of sharing the sweetness of his language with you, to have someone else who can understand his tongue.

He decides it's not an entirely uncomfortable thought.

It has been a few weeks since he agreed to teach you the Avgin dialect, and he still finds it surprising that he made that decision. Everything related to the Avgins and their culture is dear to him, including his people, his family, and of course, kakavasha; he protects them with all of his being. However, for some reason, he has chosen to share this delicate and intimate part of himself with you. After all, he is the last known surviving Avgin—this is more than personal; it's his mother tongue, for goodness' sake!

You've proven yourself to be a very very dedicated student, absorbing every piece of information he imparts like a sponge. Aventurine is unsure of how to teach you, as he himself is losing touch with his language thanks to not speaking it for years. Because of you, he now thinks more in Avgin and realizes how much he thought he had forgotten but still remembered, and how much he thought he remembered but had forgotten.

But it's nice, to be greeted in his language whenever you two come across each other. You're still cheerful and sparkling as before, but now you can greet him in his language. «Hello, how's your day going!!!» You ask him each time, with that accent and broken words that makes you sound childish more than anything. But Aventurine could care less about that; he's quick to greet you back each time, adding a new word so you learn something from each interaction.

You've told him that he's much much more expressive whenever speaking Avgin, but he tries not to think about it.

"Manro means bread," Aventurine informs you, observing quietly as you eagerly jot it down in your notepad. "I quite like the feel of pen and paper," you told him once, and he still can't comprehend why that's preferable to typing on a screen instead.

"Mañro?" you repeat, and he has to conceal an affectionate smile at your accent. It's unfamiliar and odd, but not disliked. Never disliked.

"Manro." He corrects, and you get it down this time.

"So….«manro» means bread and you said…«pani» meant water? So let's say I wanna talk about my lunch….«I water with bread eat?» Is that how you say it?"

Aventurine purses his lips, trying to appear serious. "No, it's «I ate bread with water.» But what's with that meal choice? That can't be good for you."

You only huff in response, "hey— I'm still learning okay!! How do you say wine?"

"Mol"

"Mol— how about wanting to drink or taste?"

Aventurine raises an eyebrow, "Zumavel"

"Okok. So…. «I want to taste wine really bad. Might die.»"

Aventurine snickers at that, turning his gaze away to avoid receiving another punch from you. Despite the fact that you've opted for this inefficient learning method—since he can't provide proper grammar lessons—the sentences you're coming up with are hilarious.

"Not quite. It's «I want to drink wine so bad that I might die»" he corrects you again, and you let out an embarrassed laugh to write the correct structure down. You've promised him you'll figure out the grammatical structure and everything to him after all. And he can't say he's not hoping you actually will.

"How do you say eye?"

"Just like how you say in standard Sigonian"

"Ohhh….I've noticed that body part names are usually unchanged in the Avgin dialect. How about warmth?"

"We call it tato" he smiles at you, and your cheeks tint the faintest hue of pink as you look away.

"«Your eyes—»" you purse your lips, thinking hard to form the structure "«-Are warm right now. Very warm.»"

Aventurine's eyes widen, and for a moment he's speechless; unable to comprehend how and why. But you're blushing, and playing with the hem of your shirt, which means at the very least you aren't lying.

«I'm afraid you've become my heart» He says under his breath, the words escaping his mouth before he can even stop them. It tastes sweet in his tongue, memories of a time long gone resurfacing. He didn't even remember that saying, up until now. And now, he has a little more understanding of how sweet his mother tongue really is.

"What does that mean?" You ask him, and he merely smiles at that.

"Nothing. I just said thank you."

A/N : gah I'm sorry for that word vomit I can't stop thinking about it....like one been thinking for months about his language and what it might mean for him now that he's (presumably) the only avgin left. My mother tongue has PLENTY of dialects, and there are certain ones that are totally different from the standard (I don't understand some of those) so I kind of projected....and other than that I hope it wasn't too bad omg