#but makes it hard to tell if they really necessarily need to spill blood

[nomiyakazehaya]

i finally caved and drew my personal take on soft body megs and oppy… 😭 i've been binge re-watching kekkai sensen again and had this brainrot au idea for a while too 🥲 also took a lot of inspiration from dragoons of final fantasy and dnf/dfo for her helm design because i absolutely love those designs despite how painful and agonizing they are to draw sometimes and the idea of megatron being a lancer and/or wielding spear type weapons in general is something that dances around in my head very often still not 100% sure what to do exactly with optimus, but i actually like the hat design so far! maybe i'll make him something like a detective or inspector position, haha 😂

here's also an actual blood red version because i really liked both versions of this drawing 🥲🥲

[remlionheart]

NSFW Alphabet: Osamu Dazai Edition ♡

♡༊·˚ mdni. ((dedicating this to my pretty gf @bratbby333 since she's the dazai to my chuuya and some of these situations were in inspired by our unhinged 5 hour long facetimes calls, *cough cough* "blood-chilling" *cough cough* ♡)) this was honestly so much fun to write. dazai would be SUCH a diva in a relationship but he would also be so loving and protective ugh. lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡༊·˚

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Dazai's almost always the first one out of bed after the fact. He already has a shower running for when he comes back into the room to hand you a towel and a glass of water. You tell him that your legs are too tired to walk all the way to the bathroom so he scoops you up into his arms. The two of you laugh as he carries you into the steam-filled room. He lets you get under the water first, squirting a generous amount of shampoo into his palm as he instructs you to turn around. "Suppose your hands are too tired to wash your hair, hm?" You bite back a smile, giving him a pitiful nod in response. "My poor girl." He hums. His long fingers massaging into your scalp feel like heaven. He leaves light kisses along your shoulder, running a washcloth over your body while whispering sweet little nothings like "How'd I get so lucky?" into your skin as he cleans you off. It's hard to believe this was the same man who was making you beg on your knees for him just twenty minutes ago.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Aside from his body's infuriating aversion to death, there aren't a whole lot of things that Dazai doesn't like about his appearance. Aesthetically speaking, he finds himself fairly attractive so it's hard to narrow down one thing he likes best. If he had to though, he'd probably go with his hands. He's always gotten compliments on them, but after seeing what strong reactions they're able to coax out of you so easily, he's realized they're one of his most valuable assets. As cliche as it may be, your eyes are his favorite feature. He finds it adorable how they always tell him what he needs to know without you ever having to say a word. They tell him when you want more, when you want less, when you're about to hit your breaking point. They guide him in the right direction every single time. Plus, they're just so fucking pretty to look at.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

The only thing more blissful to Dazai than hearing or seeing your orgasm is tasting it. His head is buried between your legs, his fingers pumping in and out of you deliriously as your thighs start to lock around him. You're spasming for him again, your voice breaking as you call out his name and your hips buck up towards him. "Dazai, I can't -" You whine. "'m so... sensitive -" "C'mon baby, please." he groans, "Just one more f’me." his tongue swirls against you with fervor, his digits still greedily plummeting into you. "Lemme taste it, lemme feel it. You’re sooo close." His fingers curl at just the right angle, his tongue faithfully lapping against you as you finally fall apart for him. He moans at the sweetness that spills down his chin. "You taste like fucking ecstasy, you know that?"

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It's not necessarily a secret because in his defense, if you were to bring it up or ask him about it, he'd tell you the truth. But Dazai can't help it that you've never inquired about his exes and he's certainly not going to offer up the fact that he knows every single person you've ever been with going all the way back to the boy you kissed on the playground when you were 4 years old. Or that he just so happens to know all of their current addresses and their moms’ maiden names and where they work and their social security numbers. I mean, does it even really matter anyway?? He just got a little curious, that’s all!!

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Dazai had been with his fair share of partners before meeting you. Sex wasn't something he was ever shy about. He did a lot of experimenting, especially when he was spending the majority of his time drinking. He's always felt comfortable in his body and never saw the big deal about sharing it with someone. It wasn't until the two of you started dating that he realized just how binding sex could be. That it could transcend well beyond the simplicity of skin against skin contact. Being inside of you was the closest thing he'd ever felt to a religious experience. It felt like coming home after a long day. No matter how many hookups he'd had in the past, there was nothing that could've prepared him for how good you'd feel.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes any position that allows him to see your face. His favorite is probably fucking you from the side though, both of you facing each other with his arm hooked under your thigh, letting him go as deep as he pleases. He gets lost in the way your pupils dilate when he plunges into you. The security of your arms wrapped around his neck as you whimper and wriggle against him. There's something so intimate about watching you come undone from this view. Feeling you drench him while he kisses you over and over. "Let it out, baby. I've got you. Doin' so good - fuck, baby you're doin' so good f'me."

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

As passionate as Dazai is when it comes to being inside of you, he's still able to find a level of a humor in just about anything. He's a Gemini, after all. If he's too serious for too long, he'll simply die. You're on top of him with your hands tangled into his for balance as you grind against him. Your hips are rocking back and forth at a pace that's making his breathing uneven. You feel proud, thinking his reaction is a sign of you doing a good job until you watch his head roll to the side, a stupid smile suddenly visible as he tries to bury his face into the pillow. You quickly realize it's not a moan that he's holding back, but a laugh. Your movements come to an abrupt pause. "Dazai." He tries his best to keep it together, but the scolding tone in your voice coupled with the stern look you're shooting him is only making it worse. “Wait, listen -" he tries to explain himself, but he's powerless to his own thoughts. A burst of suppressed laughter fills the room as he covers his face with his hands, still feeling the weight of your glare on him. "R - remember -" he struggles “Last week? When you were telling me about that book you were reading and...." he nearly snorts. "And you described it as -" Your lips press into a flat line, your eyes glazing over as you realize what he’s getting at. You knew the second you messed up that phrase, you'd never hear the end of it. "Are you seriously still laughing about the fact that I said 'blood-chilling' instead of 'bone-chilling?'" "BLOOD-CHILLING!" He repeats with the most obnoxious cackle, narrowly dodging the pillow you throw at him.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Dazai spends more time grooming himself than you do. Hours in front of the mirror looking at himself from every angle to make sure what he's done is up to his standards. He's subscribed to one of those manscaping services where they mail him out a surprise bundle each month of new products to try. When you go down on him one night, he asks "...Does it smell like teakwood?" Your head pops up immediately, unsure if you even want to know what he's hinting at. "What?" "Nothing... it's nothing."

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

In love, Dazai worships you. He has every inch of your frame memorized and knows exactly what each tiny movement and whimper mean. He's studied your body like it's his lifelong passion and he's learned how to make it respond so well for him. Your hips just barely buck up while he's on top of you and he smirks, his hair lightly brushing against your forehead. "You sure can handle the whole thing? Figured you'd still be sore after last night." You shake your head back at him with the poutiest expression, your core aching for more. "I can take it." you insist, "I can -" He challenges your sureness, giving you another inch only to see your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your hand gripping onto the sheet above you. He'd never deny you of anything you wanted, but especially not when you looked this gorgeous. He grabs your hand, tangling his fingers into yours before drawing back and burying himself into you. "That's my girl." he groans, reeling in the way your walls so eagerly swallow him. Your breathing is erratic, your composure completely gone as you writhe and clench around him. He knows you're right there. You start to close your eyes, but he stops you, bringing his free hand under your chin to redirect your attention back to him. "Let me see it, angel. Show me." He slams into you again, giving you every inch of him this time. "Show much you love this." And you do. You show him three times in 20 minutes how much you love it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Dazai's the first to admit that he has a high libido and if the mood strikes, he's going to do something about it. He gets bored easily, so he has a variety of different mediums to get the job done - the 'hidden' folder on his phone that's filled with pictures and videos of you, romance mangas, fleshlights, audio porn, hentai. He's not afraid to experiment even when he's alone.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dazai is a true switch and will really fall into either being dominant or submissive depending on the situation. There are nights he gets off work and starts throwing out demands like, "On the bed. Now. Legs apart f’me." as he strips out of his jacket and pushes you down further onto the mattress. But, the are other times where he's dying not to be in control anymore. Where he's had to make too many decisions and he revels in the way you take the reins. The way you climb on top of him and whisper "good boy" as he grows hard beneath you. The only thing he loves more than making you beg is begging for you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Dazai has a bit of a thing for voyeurism and recklessness so when Kunikida hires a driver to pick the two of you up to take you to a dinner for the ADA, Dazai has no hesitation on hiking up your dress in the back of the limo. Peeking up every so often to see if the driver has even noticed the way your tits are pressed up against the window for passing cars to see as your vehicle speeds down the highway. You arch your back perfectly for him, giving him full control as he plunges into you. Your walls are so snug and gushy, he knows he won't last long. But you're enjoying this just as much as he is, playing with your clit as he grabs your hair and pulls you up to kiss him. "You like knowing that people can see me fucking you?" he whispers, biting down on your bottom lip. "Your cunt’s drippin’ alllll over me.” "Fuck - yes.” You moan, feeling your legs beginning to shake as you let out a strained. “I’d let you fuck me anywhere.” His smirk deepens, his thrusts becoming more frantic. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep, angel.”

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Dazai's pretty easy to wind up in general, but he definitely has a thing for asphyxiation. Perhaps it stems from the lingering effects of suicidal ideation, but the feeling of something cutting off his airways makes him feral. When you're on top of him and you reach for his throat, he nearly fucking melts. If he could choose any way to die, he'd request for it to be at the mercy of your loving fingertips digging into the side of his neck.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There aren't many things that Dazai wouldn't do. Not just sexually, but in general. His curiosity almost always gets the better of him no matter the situation. The only time he's ever told you no was when you were being too hard on yourself. He walked in on you picking at your body in the mirror. Pulling your skin in different directions to see what you'd look like if your arms were thinner or what you'd look like if your nose leaned more to this way instead of that way. His heart sank. All of the post-work fantasies he had built up over the day disappeared the minute he saw how frustrated you were. "Hey," he whispered, coming up behind you and gently wrapping his arms around your waist as his chin rested on your shoulder. "Please stop being mean to my girlfriend. She doesn't deserve that." You tried to brush it off as a joke, leaning up to kiss him while he held you, but he pulled back. "I'm serious." he ran light fingers over your stomach, his eyes locked with yours in the reflection of the mirror. "We're not doing anything until I hear you say at least five things you like about yourself." He could see past almost any crime or murder, but he drew the line at you degrading yourself.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Dazai's all about both, but if he's being completely honest with himself, he loves the feeling of your mouth around his cock. How cute you look when you struggle to take the whole thing. The way your eyes widen when he thrusts into your throat. How thorough you are, turning the act of going down on him into a work of fucking art. Even though you’re the one submitting to him when you get on your knees, he still feels like he's at your grace. You feel so good, he'd do anything to keep your lips wrapped around him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Just like anything else, pacing could go one way or the other. The thing about Dazai, is he wants to do whatever you want to do. Even when he's in more of a dom role, your pleasure is still his main focus. There's no such thing as wrong time or wrong place as far as he’s concerned. If you wanted him to fuck you slow and sensually in the club bathroom, he would. He'd dim the lights, lock the door, lay his jacket down for you to sit on as he propped you up onto the sink and kissed you passionately. If you wanted fast, rough, filthy sex by candlelight on a bed of roses, he would. He'd wrap his hand around your pretty little throat, mocking the way you're struggling to breathe as he bullied himself into you while you’re surrounded by romantic ambiance. Whatever you want, he does too.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If there was a tornado approaching your house at a reasonable speed, Dazai would still find time to have a quickie with you. Especially if he thought it was the last thing he might ever do. He wants to feel you as much as he possibly can. The construct of time really means nothing to him. You have to log onto a work meeting in five minutes? "I can fit under the desk, baby :((( they won't even see me. Just spread your legs and keep a straight face, okay?" Your parents are on their way over? "They drive so slow anyway, angel and the door's locked. Promise we won't get caught." You're waiting for food to be delivered? "Bet I could make you cum twice before the doorbell even rings." Getting to spend five minutes in you is always better than spending five minutes out of you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Dazai isn't just willing to take a risk, he's usually the one pushing for it. Any time your phone rings, his hands are suddenly roaming along your body, his fingers dipping into the softness of your underwear as he starts to kiss your neck. He knows you're on the phone with your boss, that makes it even better. He wants to see how long you can keep your composure while he torments you. Your eyes are like daggers when you look back at him, but your cunt betrays you entirely, grinding against him needily while he smirks. He picks up the pace, reeling in the subtle way your thighs shake. You're trying so hard to sound so professional and coherent, but your thoughts are everywhere. You're having to hit the 'mute' button every few seconds just to let out a whimper. Dazai nips at the nape of your neck, slamming into you with an extra finger this time causing you to nearly drop your phone. "Ahh ~!" But there's no time to hit mute with how he's suddenly plunging into you. Your boss asks if you're okay and you have no choice but to hang up. "Dazai -" you try to keep your voice firm, but you can barely see straight the deeper he sinks into you. "What - the... fuck -" Each word is a moan, your hand grabbing desperately onto the collar of his shirt. "Dazai," "Somethin' wrong, baby?" "Dazai, you can't -" But he already is. He already is so bad. "Dazai, please." You're not even sure what you're pleading for anymore - if it's for him to stop or continue. Your walls are squeezing him so tight, your heart slamming into your chest as more uncontrollable whines fill the room. "Dazaaiii ~" you whimper again, soaking his hand as his thumb brushes across your clit. "Ohmygod, fuck. You can't keep doing that." "No promises." He smirks, carefully pulling out of you before bringing his fingers to his mouth. "It's not my fault you taste so good."

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It all depends on the mood, Dazai's pretty versatile. Could he fuck you for hours? Yes. Has he? Many times. It's no secret that he loves watching you struggle to walk the next day after having your legs pinned against his shoulder. But he knows he can't do that every time. He generally tries to follow your lead and give your body what it wants - whether that's 20 minutes of gentle, deep, intimacy or an hour of a mating press followed by overstimulation. As long as you're getting off, so is he.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

His nightstand is filled with an assortment of silicone stimulants for the two of you. Cockrings and vibrators and bondage kits. Out of all of the subscription services he has, getting a bundle of mystery toys delivered to his house each month is by far his favorite. He always waits 'til you come over to open it. Pouring you both a glass of wine as you divvy them out and argue about decide on who gets to use what on who.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Osamu Dazai lives to tease you. As far as he's concerned, the only reason the sun rises each morning is so that he can find new and exciting ways to make you grovel for him. He'll tie your hands together above your head, slowly unzipping his pants in front of you. Forcing you to watch as he strokes himself above you, groaning out lewd little nothings like, "Oh fuck, 'feels soo good." while he smirks at your pouty little face and the way you begin to squirm underneath him impatiently. “See how hard I am? God, just imagine what it'd feel like inside you." His hand pumping uppp and doownnnn tortuously out of reach. "Tell me baby, would you want me to go hard and fast or reeaall slow and deep?" He fucking moans while you writhe helplessly against the mattress, your neglected cunt throbbing. "Dazai, please." "Poor thing." He mocks, still jerking himself to the sight of you looking up at him with pleading eyes. "You can do better than that though, can’t you angel? C'mon, make me believe you.”

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

There's no denying that Dazai's loud. You make him feel so fucking good and he wants you to know. He'll have a fistful of your hair, groaning out your name while your tongue swirls around his tip. "Fuuuck.” He whimpers. "Oh - my… god." Tiny hearts cloud his vision as he watches your throat fill with his length, the heavenly sounds of you gagging on him echoing across the room. Your eyes gloss over, spit pooling down your chin when you look back up at him, your tongue still pressed firmly against his base. "S'fucking gorgeous when you suck my cock." His praise only make you go faster, drawing out the prettiest whines from him. "Nnngh ~ don't stop, baby.” His grip tightens in your hair. "Don't. Fucking. Stop." His hips buck up with each syllable, his rhythm unrelenting as lecherous tears begin to spill down your cheeks. You keep going though, drowning in the noises he's making for you. "Right there, right there. 'm gonna - oh fuck. 'm -" You feel him twitch inside your mouth before a flood of warmth suddenly coats your throat. "Swallow f'me, angel." his voice is so heady and delirious, it comes out as more of a beg than a command, "Fuck... Yeah. Just like that, mmm, god, just like that." You take it all in, not letting one drop go to waste. "You're sucha good girl, you know that? Sucha good fucking girl."

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Dazai gives the illusion that he's not jealous. That it doesn't bother him in the slightest when you go out with your friends or when you stay at the gym longer than you said you would. He does trust you - completely, actually. He knows you'd never do anything to jeopardize your relationship with him. It’s the outside world he doesn't trust. When you're driving home from work, he's watching you through the location sharing on your phone. He stares at the screen intently until he hears you pull into the driveway. When you’re at the bar, he knows the importance of girls’ time and he’d never spoil that. He simply wants to make sure no one is bothering you. He shows up, stealthily lingering in the background, watching his pretty girl laugh with her friends and dance with a drink in her hand the way she should. He loves seeing you have fun, he doesn’t want to take that away from you. He just follows behind your Uber to make sure the driver gets you to where you're going safely. He's seen too many tragedies between working for the PM and ADA, he can't take the risk of letting anything happen to you. So, he doesn't. There's absolutely nothing off limits to you. The entire world is yours. You just... might see a man in a suspicious looking jacket that bears an eerie resemblance to your boyfriend trailing behind you from time to time while you're out. It's only because he loves you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Standing at a solid 5'11, Dazai's decently tall and slender - surprisingly muscular underneath all of those bandages. His waistline is so pretty and his hands? God, those long beautiful digits have brought you to your breaking point more than a few times. Besides excelling in dexterity, he's also packing. A perfect blend of length and girth that curves ever-so-slightly as if it was made for the sole purpose of hitting your g-spot.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Dazai would bend you over in in front of the Pope if you'd let him. He's unapologetically ready to go at any time. He can't help that you're just so gorgeous and that his eyes are always glued to the way your hips sway when you walk in front of him. He yearns for you constantly, even when you're not around. If he could have a 10-hour loop of you moaning his name that's what he'd use as white noise to fall asleep to each night. He can't help that his dick twitches at the thought of you. It's not his fault you're so pretty :((((

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Rest has never come easy for Dazai. He's tried every natural (and narcotic) sleep aide he could get his hands on. Put down multiple bottles of Pinot Grigio and still found himself up for days on end. Up until he met you, he didn't think it was possible for him to sleep for more than two hours at a time, but the first time you invited him over to your apartment changed everything. The two of you had been talking for hours - laughing and debating and sharing secrets over a bottle of cherry whiskey. He could've stayed up long past sunrise with you but when he noticed how tired your eyes were getting, he offered to take you to bed instead. Both of you stripped down into lazy pajamas. You, in an oversized t-shirt with nothing underneath. Dazai, in his boxers. You looked so peaceful when your head hit the pillow, he was sure that you'd be out soon, but to his surprise, your body had other plans. Your lips were soft against his, your hands gently roamed along his body as you pulled him on top of you. You smiled at the way his hair tickled your forehead. The sun was just barely creeping through your curtains, grazing your face as he slid into you, highlighting the pleasure that had taken over your features. It was all so hazy and comfortable. Your room filled with heady mid-morning noises while his body thrusted generously into yours. There was something so intimate about it that it nearly brought you to tears. You felt full in every sense of the word. When you were both good and spent, the two of you laid in the middle of your bed with your head nestled into his chest. He played with your hair, watching you fall asleep in his arms. He'd never felt more human than he did in that moment. His eyes closed, his mind turning off for what felt like the first time in years as he drifted off with you.

ㅤ ೀ ㅤ۫ ㅤ۪ㅤ۫ ㅤ ♡ ㅤ

‎♡‧₊˚ here's chuuya's version if you're new here ‎♡‧₊˚

[lxvebun]

kiss it better!

synopsis: you know better than to try and hide your wounds from them, however small it may be know that they are more than ready to take care of you. Aka jjk boys caring for your injuries

buns notes: I had a part for Gojo and Nanami as well but found myself getting stuck on it. Perhaps they'll come later but for now enjoy Geto and Sukuna♡.

content:Geto/Sukuna x gender neutral reader. fluff/hurt comfort. Soft Defect/cultish!geto (idk what to call it jejjd just canon suguru) canon violence. Blood. Lovesick/soft ish sukuna as always🤭. Not entirely proofread I am sleepy. Eng is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes!!

Suguru

"Did you really think you could hide that from me, my darling?" Suguru coos. His voice deep and honeyed, overly thick and sweet as he tries to swallow down the urge to demand, to interrogate the cause of the gash on the side of your forehead.

It would do you no good to see that side of him, especially in this state you're in. Trying to hide the tiny rivers of blood trickling down your face, droplets sinking into the wooden floors beneath your feet. He doesn't want you to feel a sliver of fear anywhere near him.

And he's good usually at maintaining his composure. Even if his mind is already twisting into something darker and cruel. but God, the thought of someone, whether Human, Sorcerer, or curse hurting you makes him physically sick. The blood pooling in his mouth from biting his tongue does not help either.

"I'm okay, Suguru." you breathe out, a little labored, not necessarily from the dull ache on the side of your head.

You're not afraid of him, could never be, he's good to you and you see how hard he tries. Fragments of a younger, more carefree suguru slipping through at times. But something twists in your gut as the sparkle fades from his eyes and his gaze zeroes in on your injury. You know what goes on in his head. Thoughts as black and dark as spilled ink swallowing up all the light that left unless he pulls back quick enough. It's a venomous spiderweb that's hard to get out of

Fortunately, he does. Your voice luring him back almost like a Siren's whisper, from what's going on inside his head.

It takes him a few seconds to orientate himself. A few deep breaths and fluttering of eyelashes before he can tear his gaze away from the cut and look into your eyes.

Gentle and careful hands slide under your jaw. His tumb wiping away some of the blood. Rough hands still feeling light and safe. As if he were cradling a bird with a broken wing in his hands. 

(it makes you melt a little more into him.)

It's not a deep cut, not deep enough for stitches at least. It may leave a light scar unless he gets someone to heal it for you. Then again, you have refused that option in the past, trying to maintain somewhat of normality in your life

He can't blame you for that, but he's also not sure what to do..

"Tell me what you need, my darling." It comes out a little desperate

(As if he might succumb if you don't tell him what you desire right now)

"Help me clean up," you begin, knowing he wants to be with it every step of the way. To nurse you back to health "and then you can kiss it better for me while we watch some movies, hmm? :)"

He closes his eyes for a second, your head still cradled in his hands, his touch a bit more relaxed, a little less delicate but still comforting. And then he opens them again, a gentle smile playing on his lips, and the sparkle in his eyes reignited.

He's back

(If he notices the way your shoulders relax, he doesn't comment on it.)

"Of course, my love"

Sukuna

You know better than to hide your injuries from him. It would be foolish of you to even attempt to deceive him. You're part of him now, intertwined into his soul. He's mapped out every little detail of you. He picks up on the slightest shifts in your mood and tone. Hears the hitch in your breath if something surprises you, knows exactly how you achieved the seemingly random bruises on your legs and has memorized the healthy beating pattern of your heart. So even before you pushed open the heavy wooden doors to his chambers, he could hear your labored breathing and smell the blood staining your skin..

His voice booms around the chamber, as you finally open the door. It's loud and aggrivated. Shaking the walls. Dripping in venom and laced in a desperation only you'd be able to pick up on as he calls out Uraume's name. The sight of you bloodied and teary eyed is almost enough to make him fall to his knees. You don't know that his heart has molded into the shape of a chapel dedicated to you. Filled with every little detail of you. brimming with gold and laced with utter adoration and devotion. He'll kneel until his spine breaks and his knees crack against the floor below him if you'd just tell him who could possibly dare to do this to you

He lifts you up and carries you to his bed before his knees give out under him. His grip a little too tight, a little too bruising even for those few seconds. Afraid you'd slip right out of his arms if he doesn't hold you close enough. You can basically feel the blood boiling in his veins, turning into rivers of lava under his skin.

He doesn't make eye contact as he gently lays you down on the bed.

(Perhaps because you've always been good at reading him, perhaps because he'll fear what he'll do if he catches sight of anymore blood)

.....

The gash on your side is healing nicely, thank Uraume for their steady hands. Sukuna would have done it, but all his eyes would have focused on would be the blood staining your robes, trickling out of the wound in steady flows and your teary eyes. He wouldn't have been able to keep his touch delicate enough to heal you properly. Too engrossed in the thoughts of punishment and cruelty to keep the violence from bleeding into his touch. He'd never forgive himself if he'd hurt you. Even accidentally.

(He lost control once in the heat of passion. Kissed you a bit to roughly with sharpened teeth. It's nothing compared to what he can do. He is the king of curses after all. God to some, an abomination of nature to most. Still, He filed them down ever since.)

He made sure to stay and watch before he goes out and track down the filth that did this. He trusts Uraume, undoubtely so, but he wants to see Your wounds disappear and the blood wash off of your skin with his own eyes

Healing someone with a curse technique feels similar to getting stitches as the skin gets closed back together. He knows it's normal but Hells, every flinch, every little twitch you make as the skin heals make his hands itch to dig into the chest of whoever did this to you, ears already ringing at the begs and pleas for mercy and he personally deals with the parasite that dared to put their hands on someone even the king of curses himself bows down to.

How incredibly foolish of them.

"Well, that should be it" Uraume's voice snaps him out of his trance. He watches as they bow down to you, even after many many times of you telling them they don't have to and turn to him. "I'll go get some clean robes" bowing down once more, and leave the chambers.

The room falls silent again. He's becoming a little restless. Eyes trailing over your form before glancing at the door, going back and forth between you. Trying to decide what his next move should be

"Stay, please". You whisper. The adrenaline gone from your body

You make up his mind for him.

He's on you the second those words left your lips. His anger leaving him...for now. He keeps it at the back of his mind. Your wishes are more important than seeking revenge. Revenge can wait. You don't have to

He asks you how you're feeling as he wraps his arms around you, cradling your head to his chest as he lays down on the bed next to you. You make the mistake of being truthful

"Its a little sore-"

he's up again before you can even finish your sentence, ignoring the whine falling from your lips as he removes his arms from around you

"There should be some freshly gathered herbs in the kitchen today" he begins as lines it to the door

"Sukuna-"

"I can concoct something that should dull the soreness in a heartbeat-" his hand already on the door handle

"Ryomen."

He stops abruptly. Turning to look at you over his shoulder. Keeping his hand against the door. Waiting for you to finish your sentence

"I don't want a herbal concotion"

His brows furrow together, surprisingly cute for a being like him. He turns to you fully, slowly pacing back to the bed

"What is it that you desire then, my love?"

He almost sounds nervous, eyes wide and eager to hear of your demands so he can fullfill them. "Is there another potion you'd like, do you-" he begins to ramble again. You cut him off

"I think a kiss would be sufficient enough actually, my lord~♡"

His words die in his throat. Worry melting into a more stoic expression as he looks at you with what you can only describe as 'are you serious' Your laugh at the shift in his expression, gods that beautiful angelic sound, quickly breaks his into a gentle smile. Heart calming down.

"If thats what you need who am I to refuse?"

You look more than content, a state he wants to keep you in forever, as he leans over you on the bed. Matress bending under his weight as he places one hand next to your head, the other slowly cuping your face as he dips down to lock your lips with his

(He could kiss you forever, if you'd let him)

"Better?"

He doesn't bother to pull away, instead choosing to speak against your lips. Eyes soft and breath hot against you.

"I think I need a higher dosage actually~♡"

RAAAA thank you for reading angels!!♡

[willowwind78]

Can You Spot the Difference?

So, what's the difference between Blood Angels red and Flesh Tearers Red?

Just looking at the pots it seems as if Blood Angels Red has a brown undertone while Flesh Tearers Red has a redder appearance. Blood Angels Red looks as if it should have a more realistic blood appearance and Flesh Tearers Red looks as if it should have a more freshly spilled, no coagulation has yet to occur tone.

Reality?

So while they are wet... barely discernable difference if you've got great eyes for color.

Can you tell which is which?

The mane is painted with Flesh Tearers Red while the muscles in the neck are painted with Blood Angels Red.

The real question is: Can you tell them apart once they are dry?

As you can hopefully see from this photo, the mane in Flesh Tearers Red is brighter while the muscles in the neck are Blood Angels Red and darker in tone.

My intentions are to paint the mane as fire and I wanted a brighter red hence Flesh Tearers Red for the flames while the muscles of the neck I wanted something more realistic so I chose Blood Angels Red.

The reasons I wanted to make this post are to A. Help you decide whether you want to bother owning both paints or not. If you can't tell the difference between the two colors, no worries, most people won't either. B. Create something so I could see the difference for future reference.

It boils down to... unless you're a paint obsessed lunatic like me, you really only need one of these to suit your needs for basic painting. By the time I add the yellows, oranges, and whites to the flaming mane, it will not have mattered which paint I choose. If you want a realistic fresh blood effect you don't need either of these products what you need is Citadel Colour: Blood for the Blood Gods. That's where you are going to get your blood effect, not the underlying paint.

The undercarriage of this horse is painted with Blood for the Blood Gods to make it look like fresh blood. This is completely and totally dry, I painted it well over a week ago and I deliberately used flash to show you the wet shine. I will use the Blood for the Blood Gods to add this effect to some of the muscles and ribs to make it look fresh and gory. If you don't have a tub of these... you need to get some. It is so much fun to splatter on swords using a hard bristled brush and your fingertips. It is also fun to not wash it off your hands and wander around with bleeding fingers to freak people out.

Both Flesh Tearers Red and Blood Angels Red dry with a glossy finish but not the wet look you'll get from Blood for the Blood Gods. I like the Flesh Tearers Red for the base layer of the undercarriage because you can see how it creates more depth using darker pigments than the Blood Angels Red which has a brown rather than black tone as its darkest contrast shade. I switched to the Blood Angels Red for the neck and ribs for a more functional depth perception. Obviously the underside of a horse should be darker than neck and rib muscles because A. they are under the horse therefore shaded and further away and B. they have more depth to them that exposed muscles.

Since this post is already too long How Not to Paint Miniatures Tip of the Day: Contrast and Shade paints create shadow but do not necessarily create a 3D image in and of themselves. These paints will easily create cartoony images which will still appear flat if you don't work very hard to create focal points for light and around the figure as a whole creating perspective. Miniatures are too small to create full perspective by themselves without some help from the artist.

More on this to come...

For now... this piece is supposed to be about the differences in color of the Blood Angels Red and Flesh Tearers Red Contrast Paints.

[neptuneandwine]

🍒 Astrology Observations #3 🍒

disclaimer: these are my personal observations and may not resonate with everybody. And that's okay!

🍒 That Pluto thing to either obsess or be repulsed by something. For example Pluto in the 5th might do so with their art and/or dating. Pluto in the 9th could have the same experience with religion. In my opinion, the thing with Pluto is that you either learn to control it or it will control you. And it's not an easy planet to handle anywhere in the chart, as it's dark and intense. However, once mastered, it also grants an immense amount of power and potential in the area the house its in rules.

🍒 Moon conjunct Jupiter means big emotions, there's no way around it. But it can also indicate a tendency to overindulge when stressed. Further info on the area where one could be prone to this is found in the house this conjunction happens.

🍒 Cancer moons aka the CEOs of being open about the small things that make them upset and incredibly secretive about the big things that hurt them. They're more likely to rant about that one fuckboy for 20 minutes straight but to let you in on the root of the problem? No way. They will fill you in on it casually, months later, like "hey, remember that time I was upset? The problem wasn't the fuckboy but..." and then spill a tea so hot they'll leave you like "👀" for a hot minute.

🍒 Taurus risings are loud when drunk. With Aries in the 12th house, I swear they just turn into a whole different person when under the influence.

🍒 Pisces moons are absolute sweethearts, but they need to develop better boundaries. Just because your energy is beautiful doesn't mean others should be allowed to drain it???

🍒 Cancer placements in general don't forgive and don't forget. It's true that it takes them a while to get truly angry at someone, but once they do and they actually snap, rest assured they'll remind you of every single time you crossed them.

🍒 Lilith in Gemini can go two ways: those folks either annihilate you with their words when angry or give you the silent treatment when angry.

🍒 Still on the topic of Lilith in Gemini. They're somehow extremely smooth talkers, too? It's almost unfair. Leave some of that talent for the rest us as well???

🍒 People with Ceres in Capricorn strive to provide. Doesn't necessarily mean they want to make a lot of money, but they need to win that bread - or contribute to it - as that kind of competence is tied to their self-worth. They also want a partner who's able to provide for themselves though, given the need.

🍒 I noticed that Virgo Moons tend to like practical gifts, something they can use. I talked to a couple of them, and they basically all said the same thing in different ways, and it all came down to a "if you know what I might need, it means you're paying attention".

🍒 Leo mars folks. You're gorgeous and all, but could you please not let your pride get in the way of conflict resolution? 😂

🍒 Pisces Mercuries either text  paragraphs or one word replies. No in between.

🍒 People with Sagittarius and Aquarius placements seem to always have the wildest stories. I kid you not when I say that when people with this placements go "can I tell you what happened the other night?" I somehow expect them to have ended up in different country by accident 😂👀

🍒 Hard aspects build resilience. Yes, I know, squares and oppositions aren't the most pleasant thing to deal with, be it in natal charts or any other really. Yes, they can be challenging, and we all agree on that. However, in my opinion, when you have to fight for something you come to value it more since you acquired it through your own metaphorical blood, sweat, and tears.

🍒 to my fellow libra moons: don't settle for less. Don't compromise excessively. I know we can do that sometimes, in the name of keeping the peace. But whose, really? Yeah, exactly. And is other people's peace of mind and harmony more important than our own? I know we mean well, but we teach others how to treat us by setting standards. Standing up for ourselves and our emotional wellbeing is important and should come natural. If we let too many things slide, it will only get harder to be heard on the long run.

[moonlit-reveriee]

Baby Blue

technoblade x fem!reader

concept: techno is scared of ‘corrupting’ the reader, but the reader’s kinda into it...

content warning // NSFW, virgin!reader, very minor angst?, small argument that gets resolved

listen to this while you read: BBBlue (Single) by Olivver the Kid

(this fic was heavily inspired by the lyrics of this song, so i highly recommended giving it a listen!)

───※ ·❆· ※───

When Techno found out you were a virgin, he was terrified. Not necessarily of the thought itself, but of the implications.

He’d never forget the look on your face when you told him. You tried to be casual about it, but he knew you well enough to spot the dusting of pink across your cheeks. You nuzzled yourself closer into his side. Whether out of embarrassment or something else entirely, he couldn’t tell. All he could feel was his heart dropping as the voices chanted at him to “ruin her”

Of course you, his pure sweet angel, would be a virgin. He once again crumbled under the idea that you had chosen him. How on earth could a person like you even think of being with a beast like him. Yet alone, giving up your virginity to him.

He hated how horribly turned on he was by the thought of taking it.

The voices had been relentless about it ever since. They were hyper focused on your every move, twisting every thought of his into something promiscuous. When you rolled out of bed in the morning and stretched, a small sigh escaping your lips, it was endless cries of “make her do that again” “you should fuck those moans out of her” “make her scream”

While making breakfast together in the morning, they wouldn’t stop telling him to “bend her over the counter” “take it right here”

Even at times where he was alone, the voices preoccupied him with endless thoughts of you. He was fairly certain they had forced him to imagine every possible way in which he could have you. “imagine fucking her against the wall” “you can be gentle for the first time y’know” “she’d feel so good writhing underneath us” “press her face into the mattress instead” “make her get on her knees and suck you off” “she’ll be such a pretty little slut for us”

He tried to take care of himself as often as he could, but it was becoming impossible to keep up with. There were only so many times a day he could jerk himself off alone behind locked doors. He was desperate, and sexually frustrated to say the least.

He felt disgusting for it.

After a week of this torment, he could barely even look at you yet alone touch you without the voices and his own guilt pounding against his skull. You couldn’t even think about broaching the subject again, because he was avoiding physical contact like the plague. He wouldn’t come to bed until he knew you were asleep, and would leave long before you woke.

As much as he tried to hide it, you could tell he was tired. Something was wrong, but you knew that he’d never just tell you about his problems unprompted. Techno was insufferably stubborn in that way. After several days of avoiding your gaze and leaning away from your touch, you chose to confront him.

“Techno”, you called for his attention quietly, trying to sound stern while remaining gentle with him. He didn’t turn to fully face you, but he glanced at the spot on the wall just above your head.

You struggled to find the words you wanted to say, so you settled on telling him, “Techno, you look tired.”

He turned his attention away from you. “Just a lot of work around the house this week. I’ll be fine after I rest.”

“Then come to bed with me.” You saw the way his body tensed and tilted away from you at that simple suggestion.

“I just need to write a couple letters first. You can go ahead of me.”

“Techno...”, you whined, daring to take a step closer to him. He gave you an almost panicked look, “why does it feel like you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you”, he responded quickly, trying to look through you instead of at you.

“Yes you have”, you responded firmly. A flash of guilt washed over his face at your tone. “You haven’t kissed or touched me for nearly a week now. I don’t even know for sure if you sleep in the same bed as me anymore. Fuck, you barely even talk to me.”

Angry tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you wanted to hold them in. Techno felt his chest tighten at the sight of it. He instinctively turned and reached out to comfort you, but forced himself to freeze.

“There”, you said, gesturing towards him, “just like that. You’re stopping yourself. Why are you doing that?”

He repeatedly opened and closed his fists at his side, wanting to have any conversation other than this one.

“[y/n], there’s just a lot going on in my mind right now”, he said. It wasn’t a complete lie. “I just need to work though it.”

“Then let me help you.”

“No”, he responded a little too quickly, “I- I mean, I just don’t want to talk about it with you yet...”

“Why not?”, you retorted, trying to squeeze any information you could out of him.

“I just don’t, okay? It’s uncomfortable, I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

“... is this about me being a virgin?”

“I never said that”, he replied, but the tension in his shoulders was enough to tip you off.

“Ah geez Technoblade, if it was that much of a problem for ya, you should have just told me”, you said sarcastically, “instead of avoiding all physical contact for a like week straight!”

“It’s not a problem, [y/n].”

“Certainly doesn’t feel that way.”

Techno huffed in frustration, grabbing a fistful of his hair at the root. He wasn’t sure if he was more upset with himself, or the fact that a few of the voices were still begging him to “please fuck her already”

“Love, I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t want it. They”, he tapped a finger against the side of his skull, “they want it so badly. It’s driving me insane.”

He breathed in and out shakily, trying to gauge your expression in the brief moments before he continued.

“I’m a monster. I’ve spilt more blood than anyone every should in a single lifetime. My appearance is more beast than man.”

He looked up briefly to find you staring right at him, a tight-lipped frown upon your face.

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“I- ... I don’t want to corrupt your innocence”, he admitted.

“What on earth do you mean by that?”

“[y/n], you’re so perfect”, he answered almost breathlessly, “you’re so kind and so pure. Just living with me does enough to taint your reputation, I don’t wanna-“

He cut himself off to swallow thickly. He almost seemed scared of the words he was going to say next.

“I don’t want to ruin this part of you either...”

A heavy silence filled the tiny sitting room of techno’s cottage. In those few seconds, your eyes widened ever so slightly as his words suddenly clicked in your mind. This hulking boar of a man, an undisputed war criminal, was scared. He was scared of damaging you, your reputation, or your recently revealed ‘innocence’. Compared to himself, he saw you as a pure being who could be tainted by unwholesome thoughts.

If what he said about the voices was true, then his actions of the past few days would’ve made sense for him.

“Oh techno...”, you muttered softly, tentatively placing a hand on his jaw. His posture was curled inward, making him look small despite his size. He was stiff at first, but allowed you to lift his gaze to meet yours. He searched your eyes desperately for an indication of your reaction. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

A small wave of confusion washed over his face, but he nodded anyways. “It was at the festival...”

“That’s right”, you said, moving the hand on his face down to rest over his shoulder, “and do you remember what I did that day?”

“You threw an axe into Schlatt’s shoulder”, he answered, watching as the scene played out in his memory.

You lived with Niki in her bakery at the time, and witnessed firsthand the injustice she faced during Schlatt’s presidency. As the chaos after Tubbo’s execution occurred, you took the opportunity to hurl your axe where Schlatt stood upon his podium. The blow wasn’t fatal, but that wasn’t necessarily your goal. You just wanted to see the man in pain.

“It was a lucky shot really”, you admitted, “I wasn’t even aiming properly.” That managed to draw a small smile onto Techno’s lips.

“And do you remember”, you continued, “when I tried to confront the Butcher Army by myself?”

He grimaced at the thought. You had told him you just needed to make a quick trip to L’manburg for some supplies, leaving him at home alone to recover from the previous day’s events. You returned that evening with a sprained wrist and a couple large bruises forming on your body. None of them were trying to kill you, but you took a pretty good beating from Quackity just for trying to confront them.

“Why are you bringing all of this up now?”, he asked.

“Because”, you said, “this is the evidence that will support my next point.”

He looked bewildered by that statement, but continued to listen.

“I’m not a perfect person”, you resumed, “I have blood on my hands just like you do. I know it’s hard to compare to you, but I’m not devoid of my own sins. I can be mean, I’ve hurt people. I’m not a pure, angelic being who would quiver at a single inappropriate thought. I think you forget that sometimes.”

He let your words swirl around in his head; he couldn’t deny the logic in them. The evidence prevented him from denying the truth of your statement. He could almost be mad that you’d talked him into a corner, but he was more overjoyed at the fact that you knew him well enough to do so.

“And you know...”, you spoke quietly, letting your hand fall down to rest on his chest, “if you did somehow ‘corrupt my innocence’ as you say... I really wouldn’t mind that.”

Techno’s breath hitched in his throat. There were a brief few moments, maybe minutes, where he just stared at you. Then his lips were on yours; sudden and clumsy, but passionate. You gripped the fabric of his shirt as he grabbed at your waist, desperate to have you in his arms again.

“I’m sorry, I had to”, he muttered, his lips left hovering a hair’s breadth away from yours.

“You’re so silly sometimes”, you sighed affectionately, rubbing small circles into his collarbone. He gave you a gentle smirk before pressing another kiss into your lips.

“I’m sorry darling, I really am”, he said as he drew you into a tight hug. He took in your scent and the feel of your skin for the first time in days. It felt like he could survive off the feeling of your arms wrapped around his body alone. He wondered why he ever let himself be depraved of this.

“You know I trust you, right?”, you spoke with your face pressed into his chest.

“I’m not sure why, but yes.”

You decided not to reprimand him for saying that. You could help him unpack all that later. Instead, you brought your head up to whisper in his ear.

“You have my full and unconditional consent to take my virginity whenever you’re ready.”

Techno inhaled and held his breath, though for what, he wasn’t sure. It took a while for the full weight of those words to sink in. He leaned back to stare at your face, bringing one of his large and shaky hands up to cup your cheek.

“Are you sure?”, his eyes were wide with trepidation, practically pleading with you to tell him the truth. You leaned into his palm, indulging in the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I want you, techno. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Techno was lost in your words. The sudden absence of guilt left his heart light and airy in his chest. For the first time in days, the voices were only a gentle murmur.

“she’s so beautiful” “she wants you” “make her feel good” “show her how special she is” “make her smile” “she’ll be so pretty” “she’s always pretty” “be gentle, no need to rush”

“make love to her”

“... I think I’m ready now.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

ayyyy guess who finally finished writing something!!!

parts of this feel a little rushed but ehhhhhh i was just excited to finally post it. i looove writing techno as an extremely self-conscious character who’s too caught up in their own head to see how ridiculous they’re being. so, this was a treat for me to write

i hope you enjoyed :D

-moonlight

[atticuswritesstuff]

Chrollo with a smarty pants/genius darling who acts out or tries to escape just because they’re bored/understimulated?

Author's note: I actually really fucking love this prompt so I am SUPER excited for this one. I too get very bored/understimulated often. Sorry, I got to it late cuz I just got back from a Montana trip!

Yandere!Chrollo x Bored!Reader

Summary: Chrollo's darling becomes bored being locked up all the time, decides to take yet another unsupervised trip out of the mansion.

Warnings: Anal/Assplay, overstimulation, punishment, spanking, mentions of blood, mentions of murder, yandere themes, BDSM themes, degradation

Character Description: afab, she/her use that's it

Word count: 4.5k

Attempt number seven. Seven times you had slipped through his fingers since the beginning of the year alone, each time becoming more and more elaborate.

Chrollo scoffed, storming through the woods, scanner in hand. It was beeping softly, indicating you weren't far.

It wasn't like you made any attempt to escape discreetly, jamming a fork into the neck of one of Chrollo's guards, puncturing his jugular before you made your way through the garden to the edge of the forest. As Chrollo watched a recording of it from the cameras, he was shocked at how nonchalantly you stabbed him before calmly walking off. If you had intended to run far, you weren't moving very fast.

The tracker started beeping a little faster now. He was getting closer.

The early April air was nipping at his cheeks, he couldn't fathom how you were out here in your pajamas, barefoot at that. Chrollo was more worried about you than just finding you. While your previous attempts had been clever, methodical, and downright genius, this time was very different to him. As far as he knew, you'd never killed anyone, and now you had decided to not only kill someone but patiently wait for him to be unfocused before sneaking upon him. You planned this.

Chrollo walked a couple more meters, finding the tracker was leading him to the nearby lake. When he came to the forest's edge, he could see you sitting at the edge of the dock, staring up at the moon.

You heard him approaching as soon as he broke through the treeline, it took him a bit longer to retrieve you than expected, although you attributed that to him thinking you were going to try and run far. A couple miles from the house wasn't necessarily far for a commoner, but this was farther than you'd ever been allowed.

Chrollo's heavy footsteps walked the length of the dock, stopping right behind you. He knew you would come quietly, after the first few times, you'd stopped escaping to try and get away, instead, you found the chase to be much more thrilling.

"Time to go, darling," He hummed nonchalantly.

"Five more minutes," You replied, swishing your feet through the near-freezing water, "The moon is so pretty tonight, wouldn't you agree?"

Chrollo gazed down at you, you were surprisingly clean considering you'd just stabbed someone. Not a single drop of blood on you anywhere. The only thing shielding you from the cold being a thin cami and a shamefully short pair of shorts.

Chrollo always admired your body, but the pajamas were a nice touch. They were a recent purchase, baby blue fabric with white lace trim, god how he wanted to tear the set off you.

"I didn't think you'd have it in you to take a man's life, darling," Chrollo stated.

"I didn't either," You chuckled, "But it's done now."

"Why not just sneak away?" He replied, sitting on the dock next to you, "He was unfocused, you could've done it easily if this was where you intended to go all along."

"You're right, I didn't have to kill him," You sighed, bringing one of your feet onto the dock, "I just wanted to see if I could. You left an anatomy book on your desk, I found the major arteries of the body to be very interesting."

"Now that I think about it," You continued, "Maybe I should've run farther, seeing you so desperately trying to find me is rather amusing."

“You enjoy being chased like a rabbit?” Chrollo mused.

“Believe it or not the thrill is more exciting than anything you’ve ever gifted to me,” You scoffed, “At least running gave me something to do that required thought. Something you seem to forget to provide.”

Poking at Chrollo’s care tactics wasn’t smart, but you didn’t know how else to get through to him that your current environment was extremely understimulating, and that you needed more. You could tell he was growing upset, but he wouldn’t dare show it outside of the house.

You pulled your knee to your chest, resting your cheek against it, "Do I have to go back?"

"Of course you do, darling," Chrollo replied, a warm hand rubbing up and down your back, "Why wouldn't you?"

You scoffed, "Probably because being a prisoner of marble and glass is dreadfully boring."

Chrollo's hand stopped, "You think the life I've worked so hard to build is boring?"

"Yup," You replied flatly, "Honestly I thought you kidnapping me would be a lot more fun, but it's even more boring than my old life."

Chrollo was becoming angrier with each word that came out of your mouth.

"Don't get me wrong, I know how hard you try, but my god I don't know how you stand it. You're sweet and all, but you're gonna bore me to death sooner or later, escaping actually gives me something to do," You hummed, pulling your other foot out of the water, "Anyways, we can go back now, this chase was more boring than I expected."

You rose from your place, turning to walk back to your cage. It took Chrollo a minute to get up and follow you, partially from the shock of your completely arrogant and nonchalant demeanor. The person you had become over the past two years almost reminded him of a certain magician he once knew.

Chrollo eyed you as your hips swayed, every muscle in your leg flexing and relaxing as you walked. It was something he adored about you, before he took you, you were one of your tribe's best, strongest dancers. The way you swayed and glided while you did the most basic of tasks was alluring to him. Now, he just watched you sit around and observe everything.

The view from walking behind you wasn't necessarily bad, though. Your pajama shorts gave him a nice view of your ass as you walked.

Sauntering through the woods, you could no longer hide how cold you were, the incessant shivering and blue tint to your skin proved that fact. Your feet even more so from being in the water.

You knew Chrollo was upset with what you'd said, you could tell immediately, but keeping the truth from him wasn't an option anymore. You had started to care for him some time ago. You really appreciated him, but god if he didn't allow you to do something you were going to lose your mind.

When you could just barely make out the edges of the garden approaching, you stopped mid-path, "Chrollo?"

He caught up to you in an instant, "Yes, darling?"

"I don't want to go back if I have to live like this," You felt tears well up in your eyes, "Please."

His hands found your hips, "Live like what? Talk to me darling, how can I make it better?"

"I don't want to just sit around and wait for you to come back. I'm tired of you being at my beck and call. O-Or just fucking sitting around waiting for you to come back," You felt a solemn tear roll down your cheek, "It's so fucking boring. Please just take me with you or give me something I can do for you or-"

"Darling," He cut you off with a firm hand over your mouth, the other still settled on your hip. He shushed you softly, lessening the pressure on your mouth, "Don't panic, I'm listening. I promise I'm hearing you, just speak slowly alright?"

You nodded, he took his hand off your mouth slowly, "Keep going, what can I do to help you?"

You thought about it, more tears spilling down your cheeks, "Take me with you. Don't leave me by myself anymore. I just want to be useful."

Scooping you up bridal style as he headed towards the garden, "I understand. Even in your old life, you were always helping others, weren't you?"

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and tucking your head into him. Closing your eyes, you breathed in his scent, trying to commit it to memory.

Chrollo's feet hit the marble floors of the hallway that led into the house, you could feel his warmth returning as he carried you inside.

"While I understand your frustrations, you did try to escape my love," He started, bringing you into your shared bedroom, "And that requires a punishment."

You winced, shaking your head against him, "Please, not again! I'm really sorry Sir I can do better-"

"No," He shushed you, setting you on the foot of the bed, "I have the solution to your problem, but only if you take your punishment, alright?"

You nodded slightly, your tear-stained cheeks slightly puffy and red from the cold.

"Alright," He purred, his hands rubbing up and down your shoulders, "I'll try to make this at least somewhat pleasant for you, ok?"

You nodded once again, finding comfort in the fact that he was at least going to please you.

"Lay back for me," He stated, pushing you back by your shoulders, "I'll be right back."

You stared up at the ceiling in anticipation, the last punishment was hard enough, but you couldn't pass up the opportunity to finally get out of the house. Chrollo had returned from the closet, setting something on the bench at the foot of the bed. He took off his shirt before crawling over you.

"You know what your punishment is, right?" He asked, a face cupping your cheek.

You nodded, "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl," He whispered, leaning down to give you the softest of kisses, just barely ghosting over your lips as he pulled the knife out of his back pocket.

Pressing it to your throat, you froze, knowing it had already begun.

"Just focus on me, darling," Chrollo whispered against your lips, "I won't cut you."

He kissed you once more, harder this time as he slowly dragged the knife down your neck. It was a 50/50 chance he would intentionally cut you, even if he said he wouldn't. It was the only thing he'd ever lied to you about, knowing that made your heart race.

His tongue invaded your mouth as he slid the knife down your chest, coming back up to cut your bralette off in between your breasts. You didn't even register the pain from him grazing you with the knife until it started throbbing.

You looked down, seeing a thin line of blood-forming directly in between your breasts.

"Whoops," he chuckled, gazing down at the same mark you were. He sat up, straddling your hips and now pinning you to the bed by your throat. Your bare chest tempted him to carve his name into your breasts, then you'd really know who you belonged to. Chrollo briefly cut the straps of your bralette, allowing the flimsy fabric to fall away, revealing your breasts to him.

Setting the knife aside, Chrollo dragged his nails down your chest, briefly squeezing your waist before leaning down to press open-mouthed kisses all over your neck. He trailed downwards, backing off the bed as he kissed your waist, your breasts, swirling his tongue around each of your nipples lightly before backing off entirely.

"Turn over," Chrollo demanded.

"No." You said timidly, propping yourself up on your elbows.

"I'm sorry?" Chrollo replied smugly, "Wanna repeat that, darling?"

"I said n-no," You said, now even quieter than before.

"No? You don't want to be punished?" He asked, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs teasingly.

You shook your head to confirm that you indeed did not want to be punished in the way he was thinking.

"Even after killing my guard and escaping? You sure you don't want to be punished?" He asked again, his condescending tone making you whimper as you shook your head again.

Chrollo sighed, "Very well."

What? He's serious?

Untying the bandana from his forehead, he was quick to grab your hands and tie them together, placing them above your head, "I'll please you since I know that's what you really want."

Your heart jumped in your chest, somehow excited at the fact that you had gotten out of it.

Chrollo wasted no time cutting your shorts off, leaving you completely naked and exposed to him. He brought your legs up to the edge of the bed, bending them close to your chest, "Stay like this for a moment, ok?"

You gave him brief 'mhm' before he left, crossing the room to his chest of drawers. You heard him open it, the soft sound of things being moved around before he quickly came back. Craning your neck up to see what had been retrieved, you were quickly thwarted by Chrollo who pushed your head back down.

"Patience," He sighed, "Be a good girl now, hm?"

You grumbled, but let him hold you down. You knew this routine all too well, reminiscing about the fond memories of your legs pulling against the rope he was now starting to tie around your ankles. He took the time to tie up each leg, making sure they would not be able to come out of the bent position he'd placed them in.

"So pretty," Chrollo cooed, rubbing his hands up and down your waist, "Alright darling, eyes closed."

You shut your eyes as he brought a blindfold to your eyes, the soft silk being tied around the back of your head.

"There, now that you can't fight me," He started, using brute force to flip you over so you were bent over the edge of the bed, knees on the bench, "We can begin your punishment."

"That's not fair Si-"

A sharp smack was delivered to your ass, "Hush."

You went quiet, whimpering into the plush comforter.

"You"

Smack.

"Broke"

Smack.

"My"

Smack.

"Rules"

Each word was punctuated by a harsh spanking to one of your ass cheeks. You were only four in and it already stung.

"I'm sorry!" You cried, trying to wriggle away from Chrollo, "Please Sir!"

"Mm, please what darling? Please punish you?" He hummed, rubbing your bottom with smooth circles.

"Nuh!" You whined, your voice becoming whinier under the threat of fully submitting.

"I told you I would please you, but only if you took your punishment like a good girl," Chrollo hummed, leaving a kiss on each cheek, "Do you really expect me to please you when you're not going to comply darling?"

You whined, wiggling a bit more.

"What do good girls say, darling?" Chrollo asked, softly rubbing your arched back.

"P-please," You huffed.

"Please what, love?" He replied, quietly undoing the bottle of lube he had brought to the bed.

"Please punish me," You whispered, "Sir."

"That's my good girl," He hummed.

Chrollo squirted a bit of lube onto his first two fingers, letting it warm a bit before bringing them to your ass. Mewling as Chrollo started rubbing your puckered hole, he wasted no time plunging a digit into your ass.

"Fuck!" You cried out, feeling him slipping in and out up to his first knuckle. You shook against the rope.

"Aww, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were starting to enjoy this." He teased, pushing his finger up to his second knuckle, "You're taking me so well, I can only imagine how well you're going to do later."

You gave him a long, drawn-out moan in response. He wanted you to beg, either for more or for him to stop, either way, he wanted you to be a mess.

The discomfort started to fade as he pushed his two fingers fully into you. Now, you could feel your arousal dripping as he steadily finger-fucked your ass, trying to stretch you out best he could with just two fingers.

"Already taking my fingers so well," Chrollo cooed, picking up the pace, "I think you're ready to be punished, don't you?"

You shook your head, knowing what would come next.

"Oh come now, don't be like that darling." He replied, slowly pulling his fingers from your tight hole.

You whined at the loss of contact, while it wasn't quite the pleasure you wanted, it was starting to feel good. You waited patiently as Chrollo left the bed, finding the necessary tools needed in his bedside drawer before coming back to the bench.

In one hand, he held a set of purple anal beads that gradually got bigger, in the other, a vibrating wand he fully intended on using on you. While the vibrator wasn't ever used during a punishment, Chrollo saw it to be a mercy for your honesty, therefore, he would keep his word, making his punishment at least somewhat pleasurable for you.

"Tonight's going to be a bit different, love," Chrollo started, setting the vibrator on the bench, he began covering the anal beads in a generous amount of lube, "I need you to trust me, ok?"

You didn't know what he meant by different, you assumed more painful, but knew that there would be no pleasure without pain, "I trust you."

"Good," He hummed, rubbing the first ball against your lubed hole, "You ready?"

Your faint 'mhm' had Chrollo pushing the first ball in, earning a whimper from you. It wasn't much bigger than Chrollo's finger, but you could still feel it. Mere seconds later, he was pushing the second ball in, the equivalent to a little more than two of his fingers.

You were quietly whimpering and mewling into the comforter, hoping he wouldn't hear how much you were enjoying the slow stretch.

"I need your hands," Chrollo announced, pulling you firmly upward by your shoulders, "Put them here."

He shoved your arms down toward your pussy before pushing you back down on your chest. Before, your hands had been resting on the comforter above your head. Now, they were firmly squished between your thighs. You felt Chrollo press something round into your hands before tying your wrists up. Mid-tie, he readjusted the foreign object to rest against your clit.

The vibrator.

You began to squirm a little bit, knowing that this is what he meant by tonight being a little different. You waited patiently as he tied the ropes tight, making sure you wouldn't be able to move it away, then he turned it on.

"Ah...oh fuck," You moaned, the vibrator already working to make you come undone, "Sir.."

Your moans were becoming more sultry, needier, you began panting as your legs worked up to a steady shake, he knew he would break you tonight at this rate.

"See? I told you I would please you," Chrollo hummed, pushing the next ball in, you cried out even louder, "You have permission to cum whenever you'd like."

Knowing this was going to make it a lot harder, he wanted you to submit, to break, "D..Da-Ah!"

You were stuttering as the next ball was pushed in, your asshole stretching around it.

"What was that? I don't think I heard you, princess," Chrollo teased.

"Daddy!" You wailed, giving into the submission he so desperately wanted. Your pussy began fluttering around nothing as the vibrator sent deep shock waves through your pussy, "Please!"

"Please what, princess?" He smiled, palming your ass cheeks.

"Please punish me!" You moaned, needing more stimulation, "I'm sorry I tried to escape! I've been a bad girl!"

The sight of you writhing under him was pathetic, you were truly becoming a mess and he hadn't even really touched you. Seeing how hard you were trembling, Chrollo took pity on you. Watching your pretty pussy clench and release, needing some form of stimulation, he decided to at least grant you this mercy.

Plunging two fingers into your dripping hole, he crooked his fingers, quickly finding your g-spot, "Is this what my darling needs?"

"Yes! Oh, fu-fuck please daddy!" You moaned, fucking yourself on his fingers, "Gonna cum!"

"You have permission princess, it's ok," Chrollo reaffirmed, working his fingers inside you.

It only took seconds, the knot that had been building inside you finally burst, causing you to clench around his fingers. The vibrator held firm against your clit after, the pleasure becoming painful. You started to cry through the blindfold.

Chrollo licked the mess off his fingers before slowly starting to pull the anal beads out one by one. You whined and whimpered as he did so, the action only causing you to clench to avoid feeling empty. It did nothing, Chrollo continued to pull the remaining few beads out, your asshole gaping slightly

"Mm, you're doing so well baby," Chrollo sighed, pulling his own pants down. Pumping his cock a few times before rubbing the crown of it up and down your slick.

"Daddy! D-Don't do that!" You whined, trying to pull away from his ministrations.

"What? This?" Chrollo asked innocently, repeating the action.

You lost it, cumming on the spot as the tip ghosted over your pussy, your shame covered your face in a heavy blush. It barely took anything for you to cum with the stupid vibrator continuing to buzz against your clit at the highest setting.

"S-Sorry daddy.." you slurred, still trembling as you felt your mind go blank.

"Aww, is my baby that much of a cock drunk little slut?" Chrollo teased, pressing the tip of his painfully erect cock into your ass, "I know you are, my pretty little darling wanted to be punished this whole time, huh?"

You heard him, but could barely form enough of a sentence to answer.

Chrollo pushed into you slowly, relishing in the tightness of your ass, your gummy walls fluttering around him as you were overstimulated. The feeling of being full had your tongue lolling out of your mouth.

Once fully seated inside you, Chrollo slowly dragged his nails along your back before palming your ass. Pulling your ass cheeks apart with his thumbs, he gave a few long, slow thrusts, watching the way you clenched around his cock.

"Fuck," Chrollo moaned, "I almost don't even want to punish you with the way this tight little ass wraps around my cock."

You could only moan in response, trembling as he continued his tortuously slow pace.

"How many spankings do you think you'll receive from tonight's actions, princess?" Chrollo halted, only halfway inside as his hands trailed upwards along your outer thighs, "I think forty is a good number? What say you, love?"

"Nuh-uh!" You cried, wiggling against his touch as one of his hands left your skin, "Thirty!"

Chrollo chuckled at your offer, "I was originally going to settle for twenty-five, but thirty works for me, darling."

With a crushing force, Chrollo's hand came down.

Smack!

"Count, or I'll start over," Chrollo demanded.

"O-One," You whispered.

His other hand rose while the other soothed the spot he had just spanked.

Smack!

"Two!"

Smack!

"Three," Chrollo's hands were relentless, switching cheeks each time he smacked you in order to give your poor skin a break. He was merciful enough to rub the spot he had spanked before doing it again.

It took minutes to work your way up to the end, you came twice throughout the process as the vibrator held firm against your clit.

Smack!

"Twenty-eight!"

Smack!

"Twenty-nine!"

Smack!

"Th-Thirty!" You were sobbing, shaking uncontrollably under the weight of Chrollo's punishment.

"There we go, all done," Chrollo cooed, softly rubbing your cherry-red ass as he set another slow pace, "You did so well for me, darling."

A warmth grew in your chest, you really did enjoy being praised by Chrollo, even if it was after a punishment with his dick in your ass. He enjoyed it too, loving the way you clenched around his cock each time he spanked you, it took a lot of focus to not cum mid punishment.

You were writhing the pressure in your core already starting to build again, your trembling never stopped, even throughout your punishment. Chrollo kept up his word to please you, but god at what cost?

"I want you to cum for me again, angel," Chrollo hummed, his hands finding your waist as he began picking up the pace, "I want to absolutely ruin you."

"No no no! Daddy, I can't!" You sobbed, knowing you would be doing more than just cumming if this kept up.

"Oh? Is my princess trying to hide the pretty mess I know she can make?" Chrollo asked, knowing what you were implying.

Grabbing the knife, he cut the ropes from your legs. He rolled your limp form over onto your back, yanking the blindfold off so he could watch as you helped overstimulate yourself. With one arm by your head to support himself, he guided his cock back into your ass, resuming the brutal pace he set.

You held Chrollo's gaze as he went absolutely feral, drilling your ass while holding one of your legs up over his shoulder. You could barely conceal your tears at this point, broken moans showing him just how bad you needed a break, but he was intent on making you squirt before he stopped.

"I know you need this," Chrollo purred, pressing his forehead to yours, "Just give in to my love, your body wants this."

You started to shake harder, legs trembling even more aggressively, he was pushing you to the edge.

"Fuck! Da...Daddy," You groaned, knowing you were only seconds away, "Kiss me, p-please."

Pulling you into his lips as you came, your screams and cries muffled against Chrollo's lips as you drenched his cock and thighs with your cum. You barely registered the feeling of his cock throbbing as he filled your ass with cum. It took several seconds for your orgasm to stop before you were finally able to collapse back onto the bed.

Chrollo was quick to shut the vibrator off as he pulled out, knowing your body had enough. He admired the way his cum began slowly trickling out of your ass while he untied your hands.

"You did so well, darling," Chrollo praised, leaving soft kisses on the inside of your calf, "So so good."

His kisses trailed upwards, his lips softly tickling your thighs as he caressed them. He continued upward with his continued praise and love, making sure each part of you had received some form of physical attention before kissing you passionately.

You were still panting, your heart thrumming in your ears as he brushed your hair away from your face. At least he held true to his word.

With your hands now free, you pulled him in for another kiss, wanting to stay enveloped in his warmth forever.

"So, my little brat," He started, interlacing his fingers with yours, "Was this enough of a cure for your boredom?"

You giggled, giving him a weak smile, "It was, but as I recall, you mentioned what sounded like a more long-term solution to this problem."

"Ah, that," Chrollo sighed, rolling over next to you. You turned on your side the best you could as he gazed up at the ceiling, "I was thinking you could officially become a spider."

Your breath hitched in your throat, "You mean like part of the phantom-troupe?"

"Yes," He replied curtly, "You'd be with me all day every day, same rules apply, but it would give you a chance to use that intelligence of yours."

You grinned, thinking it over, "Sure, why not?"

[ink-on-the-brink]

Out of all the mercs, which do you think would be the easiest to befriend and gain all their trust and which one would be the hardest??? And also, I really love your writing :D keep it up and have a nice day/night!!! ^^

Happy to know you enjoy my work! It's good to know I'm doing something right!

This one's going to be super quick since I've been a bit busy recently, but it should be fun. It will go in order from easiest to hardest to befriend. (Also there won't be any editing so excuse my spelling mistakes)

Pyro

You so much as smile at them and they are your best friend. Not kidding. They can and will make you a best friend after only the first time meeting you.

All you have to do to gain their trust is be kind. They won't notice if it's fake or not so even a sarcastic or strained tone won't matter as long as you're smiling and saying nice things.

Pyro is super bubbily and energetic and if you meet that energy you two are going to get along tremendously well.

You may not understand them, but they are telling you their deepest secrets all the time. Their trust in you is very noticable even after only a week of meeting them.

They are a bit- well more like extremely childish. So being their friend automatically makes you more of the adult no matter how immature you might be.

Overall they just want to be friends with any and every person they meet and you are going to be their bestest friend no matter if you want to be or not.

Scout

This man is a pretty easy friend to make. You make even a half attempt and he's your best friend on day one.

Trust is earned when you play fair. He doesn't really like cheaters, so if he challenges you and you make it a point to be as fair as possible he already believes you're a good person.

I hope you like some friendly competition because that's basically your guys' friendship is based on.

Now while you two might become great friends quickly, that doesn't necessarily mean you're going to know his deepest insecurities. That will problably take about a half a year and a loy of awkward conversations to get to.

He can be a very annoying person so being his friend takes a considerable amount of patience.

Overall he just likes having friends, even if he tries to stay macho about it.

Demo

Being his friend is pretty easy as well. He always likes to have a few drinking buddys on hand and he won't hesitate to invite along people he might not know very well

He'll gain immideate trust for you if you help him while he's drunk. Most people will leave him in a corner to wake up in so he'll take your act of kindness as a reason to keep you around.

Most of your friendship is based on achohal. Drinking together, gifting booze, encouraging others to join, you two will most likely not even remember most of your more trusting moments with eachother.

As bombastic and outgoing as he is, he's rather private about certain topics. That is unless he's black out drunk. If he's not as drunk as he usually is he won't answer questions about family or anything about the future until he feels he knows you well enough.

Demo is a bit of a handfull most days. He never turns down a dare and bar fights are common. You'll likely have to pull him off the floor a lot and he is notorious for invading personal space. So as long as your up for the challenge, he's up for being your friend.

Overall he's a drunk idiot, but he's your drunk idiot. He will be sure to make each day a little interesting

Medic

Becoming Medics friend can be...an interesting expirence. It's going to involve blood, guts and conscious surgeries and he's not going to care for those who are faint of heart.

You want to gain his trust? Well here's the thing, there is no surefire way to do that. Help him out one day and he'll appreciate it, another and he might become suspicious. The best way is probably to find some interest in his expirements. He prefurs to surround himself with like-minded people.

The biggest part of your friendship is most likely a shared interest in crimes against humanity. Two mad scientists testing on the bodies of dead 'patients'. What could go wrong?

Medic tries to hold a professional tone most of the time but will drop all of that when in battle or when expirementing. It can be hard to keep up with how quickly he switches from one to the other so try to stay aware of what's happening.

Medic doesn't have secrets. He has no shame and will tell you the most horrifying things in an upbeat tone. That, however, doesn't mean he fully trusts you. It will likely take a while before he trusts you enough to leave you alone with any of his expirements or projects. It's his life's work after all, he's not going to allow just anyone to mess with it.

Overall he doesn't mind having friends, but he isn't very open to close friends. It'll take a bit of time and prying to get him to fully trust you.

Soldier

This dude is extreamly parinoid. He's consistently second guessing his friendships and looking for double agents. So becoming his friend isn't exactly easy. You are going to have to seriously impress him for him to even think of you as anything more than a possibly traitor.

Gaining his trust can vary on many factors. Military backround? You're already up a few hundred points. Love for america? He's open to listening to you. Care for raccons? Okay maybe he isn't as hard to befriend as he tries to be.

Violence. So. Much. Violence. If he thinks you might be a good friend he's going to put you to the test. Rigorous training, sparing, tests on your patriotism, anything that he deems as important will be something he tests you on. All of them will most likely involve some sort of physical endurance. Even after you two are friend these will still be a constant in your life.

He's not good with secrets but there are a few things he keeps silent about and getting him to talk about it will likely end with you on the floor. As stated before he's a rather parinoid person and if it's something he's not willing to say out loud, it's something that you're going to have to spend years gaining enough trust for him to open up about it.

Soldier is extreamly loyal. If you're his friend he'd happily bleed to keep you safe. He'd never believe a single negative thing said about you and will side with you one everything, no matter how wrong you are. If you remain just as loyal he will become your right hand man in an instant.

Sniper

Overall Soldier's a loud, obnoxious, patriotic and still somehow very lovable person. When he cares about someone he tends to be extremely kind, be it in a more abrasive way then others. So as long as you can see past his militaristic exterior he's one hell of a friend to have.

You wanna be friends with Sniper? Yeah, good luck with that. Not only is the dude a loner, but he has hella trust issues and he sure as hell isn't here to make friends. Becoming his friend is going to take time. A lot of time. And maybe some coffee.

There isn't a singular act you could do to gain his trust. You can defend him all you want, side with him on every issue, pull him out of a near death expirence, its not going to change how little he trusts you. It's going to take all of those and a few long coversations (good luck getting him in a conversation in the first place) before he even attempts to trust you.

Your friendship relies heavily on practically. He's only going to think of trusting you if he feels you give some advantage. It will take a few heart to hearts for him to look past seeing you as someone who can help him and instead as someone he cares about.

Sniper has a lot of dark parts to him and it is only once he fully trusts you that you'll get to know that side of him exists. Secretly he really just wants to spill about his insecurities and problems but he doesn't trust that people won't use it against him. Once he does trust you his cold exterior will fade away and you'll get to know a lot about the demons he fights with.

He pulls off the calculated killer rather well. Most people believe he knows of nothing else. To anyone who's close to him however, he's quite honestly a mess. He needs someone that grounds him and if you can provide that type of friendship then he will appreciate it more that any type of heroic act you could preform.

Overall he's guarded and quiet but desperately wants someone to relate to. It will take a persistent attempt to earn his trust and even if he's your friend he still tends to keep to himself.

Heavy

Ah yes, the silent behemoth. Befriending him is going to take more than just patience. It's going to take a certain amount of willpower as well. He doesn't trust easily and you'll have to work hard to prove yourself to him, most likely on the battle field.

His trust is gained a few ways, none of which are easier than the last. First you must have some care for family. That doesn't necisarry mean that you have a family, but one of the first things he looks for in a possible friend is whether they have any strong familial values. Next you will have to prove to be strong enough to fend for yourself. He might be a human meat sheild but that doesn't mean he likes being one. He appreicates someone who can help rather than hinder him. There are many more steps afterward and you will have to pass with flying colors for him to consider it.

Your friendship will rely entirely on having eachothers back. He needs to know you are willing to stick with him no matter how dire the circumstances. You fuck up or betray him once and he will most likely never trust you again.

Heavy doesn't talk much. Whether that is because of his lack of english knowledge or simply choosing to keep his mouth shut really depends.

He doesn't hold many secrets but he does hold many dark memeories. He usually would only trust his family enough to talk to them about it but once your close enough to be considered family he will open up to you, if only a little bit.

Heavy keeps to himself most of the time and doesn't prefur to say much, if anything at all so getting to know his isn't easy and gaining his trust is even harder. He's got a family to take care of and he's not going to risk their safety by trusting someone he shouldn't have.

Spy

Ah yes, the backstabber himself. Guarded, mysterious and an annoying bastard. The path to his friendship is fog covered and honestly it can be hard to tell whether he cares for you or not. He will never announce his care or show it in any way, so good luck finding out if you're on his good side.

You want his trust? You'll have to prove you're worth trusting. Getting him out of a tough spot or siding with him is likely to earn his respect at the very least. It won't get you all the way there though. He doesn't associate with anyone that doesn't hold his type of class. You'll have to be rather poised and polished when around him.

His friendships usually end up in a love/hate dynamic. He might enjoy your company, and in doing so open a weak point for others to exploit. That's where the hate comes in. He doesn't like having people close, it makes his job harder, so no matter how much he cares he sure as hell isn't going to let it show.

Spy will never, ever, trust anyone with the knowledge of his past. He'd sooner die then let someone know anything that happened before he met them. No matter how much he trusts you, no matter how close you get, you will never have enough trust for him to tell you that.

Spy his one hell of a prick. It might all be in good fun, but he can be a little too good at getting on your nerves sometimes. It's best if you keep him in check by returning his remarks with equally devistating comebacks. He might even respect you more if you're able to match his level of prickery.

Overall he's going to remain mysterious no matter how much he may trust you. He will try to not befriend anyone, so you making an attempt to do so will likely be met with less than favorable reactions at first. Give it time and he might just consider you not as annoying as everyone else.

Engie

You thought he was a trusting guy didn't you? Well that's just what he wants you to think. Becoming his friend is a complicated process that you most likely wont even be aware of. You'll think he's your friend when really he's the farthest thing from it.

Gaining his true trust is near impossible. He has nearly everyone convinced of his friendly exterior so he almost can't afford to trust anyone to know the truth. In every case that it is possible it's entirely on accident. Maybe you seem to genuinely care for him and the guilt leaves him a bit more open to caring about you. Or the opposite can happen. You see right through his act and in a bid to keep you silent about it he becomes honest with you. Either way it's not going to be on purpose.

Engie grew up in a life where you weren't supposed to trust everyone but you damn well make sure everyone trusts you. This can make it hard for him to be an actual friend, considering he's always kept people at a distance. He will often fall into habits of keeping his friendly exterior instead of being more genuine with you.

Engie has a lot of secrets. A lot. Most he will take to his grave. If you do, however, manage to earn his trust and especially if you earn his care, he'll share a few. There are very few circumstances that he will and most time while doing so he can be very visibly uncomfortable. You don't get raised in a mercinary family without a few demons following you.

He's only cared for very few people in his life and he's trusted even less. So there are times when he either seem distant and uncaring or caring to the point you feel patronized. It will take him a while to find out if he should trust you and the moment he does it can seem almost like you have become the most important person on his life. His once empty gestures are now entirely genuine and he feels safe with his back toward you. This is by no means an easy point to reach and will most defiantly have taken literal years to get to.

Overall he's used to not genuinely connecting with people and is extremely hesitant when doing so. You may not even notice this conflict, but it's most certainly a large part of his life.

[reidyoulikeabook]

A is for Ankle Socks

Summary: The first installment in my A-Z of Spencer Reid series. Spencer Reid is very particular about his socks.

Ship: fem ! BAU reader x Spencer Reid

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Discussions of case-typical violence, blood, brief description of a fight, minor injury to reader that requires some stitches.

A/N: hello! this is my first ever series and i’m very nervous about it! it’s going to be a chronological a-z series with Spencer, detailing the progression of your relationship!

Spencer Reid permanently wears odd socks. The only time you can recall him wearing matching ones, in the year you’ve known him, was on days he had to go to court. Then, it was required that he wear the technically mandated uniform of proper leather shoes, and monochrome socks. On those days, Hotch would turn up with a pair of black socks tucked into his briefcase, just in case. Spencer had needed them, twice.

However, today is not a court day. Today is day 8 of a case in back of beyond Oregon that, quite frustratingly, seems to be going absolutely nowhere.

It says quite a lot, really, that in a day spent combing over convicts with domestic violence charges, the sight you look up to see is more viscerally disturbing. Spencer’s perched on the end of a desk, as he so often seems to be, his ankles crossed over each other. Signature black converse on his feet. And he appears...not to be wearing socks?

He notices you looking at him, and flicks his eyes downward self-consciously, “Is something wrong?”

“Are you wearing socks?”

He lets out a quiet laugh, “Uh. No. I meant to go to the laundrette last night but then Hotch called us into that meeting. I wasn’t expecting to be out here this long.”

“Is it comfortable?” You ask, “Wearing those without socks?”

He kicks his feet around just slightly, “Not really. I guess I’d forgotten about it until you mentioned.”

“Sorry,” You say, with an apologetic smile.

“Not your fault,” He says, looking back at the paperwork in his lap, “Hey would you mind coming to take a look at this actually? I think I might have something.”

***

By day 2, you’d learnt that the only sandwich shop in town had a reputation for bad food hygiene that none of you felt like risking. Normally, everyone would roll their eyes at Spencer for his investigation into such things. However, in this case, everyone else seemed to be as thankful as you always were.

It’s your turn to do the lunch run today, so you head to the grocery store that isn’t too far out of town. Putting your car in park, you mentally run through the list that the team had given you: cheap pasta for everyone but Rossi, who was willing to risk running foul of their microwave meal selection, as many coffee supplies as you could manage, some sour gummy worms for Spencer, mineral water for Hotch, and tights for you. It was frankly quite impractical to wear the things. You ran through so many brambles, fell down so many times, that you almost felt you should get pantyhose hazard pay. In fall in Oregon though? You’d splash out the $6 for the sake of preventing frostbite. If only because Hotch would be furious.

You smile at the thought. Wandering through the aisles, you collect everything you need. Spencer only asked for a pack of sour gummy worms, but, with a smile on your face, you decide to get him the strawberry laces he likes too.

It’s only when you scan the cart, last minute, that you realise what you’ve forgotten.

Tights. Shit.

Wheeling the cart around, you weave through the aisles looking for them. The underwear aisle is aisle 20, and it looks like it’s been ransacked. Flicking through the disorganised display, you see them.

A five pack of socks, adorned with farm animals and backgrounds of a completely clashing colour. It’s almost too bright for you, but you know a certain sockless Spencer who will be sure to appreciate them. Out of curiousity, you navigate your way over to the men’s section and have a look through. Mostly, it’s all black and navy. Right at the back though, you spy a similarly garish looking pack, this time with vegetables on.

You put them in the basket, eyes flickering over a pair of matching aubergine patterned boxers, as you make your way over to the tights. You select your usual kind, turning your attention back to the boxers.

Is it weird to get him boxers?

He’d know it was a joke, right?

Is it weird to get him socks?

Well he didn’t have any

Yeah but you don’t need to get him two packs

Yes I do we might be here a while

10 more days?

He could fall. He could spill coffee on his shoes. He could get shot.

How would socks help with him getting shot?

Your internal monologue gives you a moments reprieve, and then.

Kinda weird you got him socks

Nobody else would have got him socks

Yeah well I’m just thoughtful.

The last thought crosses your mind without permission, and you almost bristle at the brazenness of your lie to yourself. However, you decide, examining the real reasons you’re so eager to provide comfort to your favourite co-worker would require mental stamina you didn’t have right now. Mental stamina that would be better put to use on the case at hand. Mental stamina that definitely wasn’t being used to employ the BAU’s favourite defense mechanism: denial.

***

“I got you a surprise.”

“A surprise?” Spencer spins around in his chair to face you.

“Yep,” You say, plopping the sweets down onto the desk in front of him and grinning.

“Strawberry laces!” He says, smile lighting up his face, “Thanks ____!”

“That’s not the surprise.”

He quirks his brow, confusion tugging at his features, “Then what’s the surprise?”

You untuck your arms from behind your back, handing him the pairs of socks.

He looks down at them. He’s silent for a moment, and your heart thuds.

Fuck.

Told you it was weird.

It’s definitely weird.

He definitely thinks you’re-

You don’t have time to finish that thought, however, because Spencer scoots his chair back. Standing up, he pulls you into a hug. He gently squeezes you, and when he speaks his voice is low, cracking a little.

“Thank you,” He says quietly, “That was really thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

You lean into him, allowing yourself to be enveloped, “No problem. I know you have some issues with sensory things sometimes and I just thought, you know,” you trail off, “Anyway, I didn’t know which ones you’d prefer and I know you like to mix and match anyway so I just got both.”

He doesn’t say anything. But he squeezes you again, tighter this time, before releasing you. Strangely, he won’t meet your eye as he does.

“I’m gonna go put them on, okay?”

“Okay,” You say, watching a little quizically as he hurriedly heads out of the room.

Derek happens to be heading back to the room, bumping into Spencer on his way out.

“You alright kid?” He asks.

“I'm fine," Spencer says, waving him off. He tries to avoid meeting Derek’s eyes, knowing as well as he does that if the profiler catches the look on his face he’ll be found out.

Derek allows him to shrug past him with a confused glance over his shoulder. He walks into the room, scooping the nearest file off the desk and asking in your general direction, “You know what’s up with him?”

“Nope,” You say, popping the p.

You don’t. And it’d bother you, except you genuinely don’t have time right now to dwell on it. Although, try as you might to focus on narrowing down this list of factories in the area, it niggles at you.

***

You don’t see Spencer again until you’re heading out to the unsubs location. You get called out by Hotch in the minute before he returns, and then it’s all guns blaring. Emily and Dave managed to work some magic with Penelope, and the place he’s holding the hostage has been narrowed down to a factory quite far out of town.

You’re perched in the back, discussing entry tactics with Hotch when your eyes travel down to Spencer’s shoes.

One chicken, and one broccoli sock sit on his left and right feet respectively. It’s hard to see them though, with how far they are down his feet.

Hotch answers his phone then, immediately barking down commands at the local PD who are apparently failing to summon adequate manpower, in Hotch’s opinion at least.

You take the moment to cautiously lean over to Spencer, whispering, “Were they not the right size?”

He smiles at you, “They fit just fine as ankle socks.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to check the sizes, womens ones are pretty much all one size. I completely forget that men have massively different sized feet.”

He laughs, “Are you suggesting I have huge feet?”

You feel yourself flush a little, “I don’t think that’d necessarily be an inaccurate suggestion.”

Amused, he smiles. Hotch turns around to you both, momentarily taking his eyes off the road, “I need you to call Penelope, and tell her to get us all the CCTV she can get in the area. If we’re going to have to go in without enough men to cover the perimeter we’ll need all the tactical advantages we can get.”

“Of course, sir.”

***

Lunging forward, you tackle the unsub to the ground, effectively freeing Spencer from the grasp he’d previously been held in.

“It’s over Peter,” Hotch’s voice comes, even and steady.

“No it’s not.”

Before you can even register what’s happening, you’re being tossed backwards, landing against some barbed wire. Immediately, you’re on your feet again, running after him. Not noticing how the wire has ripped a hole in your tights, and cut into your leg a little.

Grabbing his arms behind him, you use all your strength to subdue him to the floor, handcuffing him. Wiping the sweat off your brow, you breathe out a deep sigh of relief.

Derek has it from there, patting you on the shoulder and giving you a “Good job kiddo.” He leads Peter out.

You rub your chest, feeling the adrenaline start to flood out of your body with all the excitement now over. A stinging senstation in your calf gets your attention, and looking down you see the nasty wound oozing blood. It isn’t much, nothing that two stitches won’t fix.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asks, having gotten up from his position on the floor, “You didn’t have to...Derek would have gotten him.”

“Why should he be the only one that gets to tackle people?” You ask, letting out a breathless tinkle of a laugh.

“Statistically, he is the one who does the most tackling out of all of us. Then Hotch, then Emily, then Rossi, then me, then you.”

“I am not the one that tackles the least,” You say indignantly.

He tips his head to the side, “Are you gonna argue with the guy who has an eidetic memory or are we going to get you stitched up?”

“Both, please.”

He laughs at that, linking his arm around your waist. You limp against him a little, out to the paramedics. Mostly it’s for Spencer’s benefit. That’s what you tell yourself, you’re letting him help you so he doesn’t feel emasculated.

When has Spencer Reid ever fallen pray to toxic masculinity?

He might have

When?

Well he could

You just like how he smells

It’s true. The faint waft of his cologne is incredibly comforting. He doesn’t loosen his grip on you for even a second, helping to hoist you so you can sit on the ambulance bed while the medics attend to your leg. You’re feeling a little woozy, so Spencer sits next to you, allowing you to lean on him for support.

“Can you tell me something?” You ask, gritting your teeth, “Distract me?”

It doesn’t really hurt, getting stitched up, you’ve just never found it the most comfortable of processes. All your favourite cases have ended with you not having to get sewn up. You know that much.

“I’ve actually only tackled one more person than you in my entire BAU career,” He says, deciding to return to your former discussion, “I didn’t really go out in the field all that much until a couple years in, it was only because of Hotch that I really went out in the field to take down an unsub for the first time. That was March 12th, 2005. You’ve only been here 9 months and have done almost as much physical stuff as me. One more and we’re even.”

“Well, if you could try not to be the person getting tackled by the unsub next time. Then I might not have to make a tackle.”

His mouth turns up at the corner, “You tackled him for me?”

You feel yourself growing embarassed, “Not for you. For the socks.”

“Oh the socks?”

“Yeah, I mean, it’s a little unfair to go putting yourself in harms way while wearing a gift someone got for you. 5 dollar socks Spencer, practically designer at that price, I’d hate to see them ruined day one.”

He laughs, his tone playful, “Well you’ll need to bare that in mind.”

“Huh?”

He tilts his head towards Emily, strutting her way across to the ambulance with Spencer’s go-bag in her arms. She hands it to him, smiling at you.

“Should I let Morgan know the team will no longer be in need of his services?”

You snort, “I’d hate to steal his brand.”

She shakes her head, “Drinks when we get back? Hotch said the jet’s ready for whenever you’re done, and Rossi says he’s buying.”

“You got it,” You nod.

She pats you on the shoulder, exaggeratedly eyeing your leg again and rolling her eyes as she walks away, “Idiot.”

You smile, turning back towards Spencer, “Are you coming for drinks? I can drive you home.”

He visibly considers it for a moment, “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

“You’re all done here,” The paramedic interrupts, wiping down your leg with an anti-bacterial wipe, “Was a really smooth tear for barbed wire, shouldn’t leave that much of a scar.”

They press a bandage over it and you thank them, getting to your feet with the help of Spencer.

“Wait, why’d you get Emily to bring your go-bag if we’re going home?”

He looks almost bashful. Out of his bag, he pulls a three pack of tights. Just the kind you always wear. Down to your preferred brand, and everything.

“When did you-?”

“I noticed you rip them a lot while we’re on cases. I didn’t know if it was weird but then...the socks?” He gestures at his feet, floundering, “I’m sorry if that’s...I just didn’t-”

“No,” You cut off his ramble, “No, Spencer, that’s really sweet. Thank you, thank you so much. Can I hug you?”

He nods, happily. You wrap him into your arms, pressing your face against his chest. Inhaling the scent of him. Reveling in how safe you feel, how protected, thinking how you’d take three hundred stitches if it meant you got Spencer out of harms way. He was so thoughtful, so kind, so attentive to detail.

Oh fuck.

You can barely look at him. It hits you like a train, the realisation. Co-workers save each other from unsubs. Friends buy each other gifts that have meaning and value. But only somebody who is in love feels like this when they get handed tights. Oh.

It’s a warm feeling. Overwhelming. So much so that you miss Spencer saying he’ll be right back, scooting off to Rossi who’s shouting him over with a question the local PD need answering for their report.

You stumble a little, thankful that you have the blood loss and adrenaline rush to blame if anybody were to notice.

You wait for the wave of denial to hit, to come and lock your feelings back in the treasure chest you’ve managed to shove them down into now. It doesn’t come. Instead, you look at Spencer with a sense of awe that feels newfound, but has actually been here all along. Watching him speak to Rossi, you really notice him: just how much he gestures with his hands, how quickly he relays information, how the huge smile on his face, when he turns around to notice you staring, truly meets his eyes.

***

You can’t tell if it makes you a good profiler, or somewhat of a stalker, that you notice Spencer wears the ankle socks you got him to work everyday for the next 9 days.

Spencer worries he’s being a little too obvious, but he can’t help that whenever he sees the socks he beams at them. They remind him of you. Unbeknownst to everybody but Dave (who somehow notices everything), he spends a good minute or so a day sneaking a peek at the novelty socks under his converse. And then trailing his eyes over to you. Thinking how much he loves the person who got them for him.

----

B is for Blindfolds

Tagslist (this is just people who replied to the post about this series and said they’d like to be tagged! let me know if you’d like to be added/removed to this series masterlist): @reidingmelodies @rem-ariiana

[dreamkidddream]

May I request 15 y/o chuuya having an older brother/sister that’s an executive in the port mafia please?

Thank you! And keep writing because you do an amazing job!! ( sorry for my bad English)

Aw thank you 🥺💙 and your English is great don’t apologize! So this somehow turned out a bit on the angsty side, but it has a happy ending. Reader is gender neutral!

CW: Spoilers for Dark Arc/Season 2, minor language

Chuuya with an Older Sibling that’s a Port Mafia Executive

Okay so, you and Chuuya are practically inseparable, and you being the oldest one took on the responsibility of making sure that he was taken care of, no matter how much he claimed that he should be the one protecting you

It led to a lot of petty bickering obviously but you didn’t care and it didn’t really matter in the end, because you both will always have each other’s backs regardless. There was just one problem-

The Port Mafia

You told him about some guy from the Port Mafia approaching you outside one day, speaking about how his boss needs to speak to you and Chuuya. You were already on high alert, how exactly does this guy even know you two, and what exactly does he want with your brother?

You hated to admit it, but what this guy was saying was making you consider his offer, which was scaring you. The Mafia could help in the long run, even if what they did left a bad taste in your mouth. The Sheep was good for now, but you can see the cracks forming between the group, and there’s no telling how long it would hold together. Yes, your brother was- is a great leader to them, but how long would that last? There’s already tension, and it’s not fair to him to take on all of this responsibility and added stress when he didn’t need to. You care about the Sheep too, making bonds that you thought would last, and you hated to sound like a horrible person, but you would rather turn on them before they turn on him, because if they tried to do anything to your brother…you didn’t want to think about what you would do

You had your mind made up: you’ll go talk and make sure that this isn’t some kind of setup but the main goal is to talk to Chuuya first about it. You weren’t doing or making any choices without him, no matter what. And you know that he wouldn’t exactly be happy with you, but maybe, hopefully, you can get him to somewhat listen to you-

Well as expected that didn’t happen

Instead it led to some harsh words being exchanged and him storming out the room. You know that he sees these people as a family, one that you both missed out on having, and he clung onto that sentiment. Leaving the Sheep to him was like leaving home, and he didn’t understand why the hell you would want to trade them out for the Port Mafia of all people! You had to had been threatened, because there is no way that you really believe the Port Mafia is better than what you guys built together

You knew that when that bandaged guy spoke to you, it wasn’t necessarily an option, and that if he found you that quick then the next time he comes back he might bring reinforcements and won’t be as…polite. So you did what you had to do to protect your brother and the Sheep- you left. With tears welling in your eyes threatening to fall, you left long before he came back. But not before promising to come back for him, you swore on your life that you would

So imagine his shock when he came back early in the morning, before the sun was even out, to notice you missing

Something had to happen. Maybe you were threatened, or someone threatened to do something to the Sheep or to him? They didn’t even have the courage to try anything when he’s with you, they had to snatch you in the middle of the night?! And of course, of course it would be when he wasn’t there, the one night when you both had a blow out

He doesn’t believe that you would just up and leave him like that, so you had to be in danger. He never gave up searching for you, never believed that you would purposely just…leave him. You wouldn’t just do that to him-

You went missing, just disappeared without a trace and while he didn’t want to assume the worst, but his faith was slowly dwindling the more time passed. He’s stubbornly holding onto the hope that you’re still alive, he knows you are, but it’s hard when he tries to sleep at night and he has no idea if you’re hurt or laying under a shallow grave taking your last breath-

He tries not to think like that, but what explanation is there? You wouldn’t just leave the Sheep without reason, you wouldn’t abandon him without a good reason. But what reason would be good enough to leave behind your own blood? You guys had your arguments and anger towards one another sometimes, but what sibling didn’t? This just wasn’t making sense to him, none of it was!

And it was not helping in the slightest when the same scumbag kept approaching and bothering him and honestly just making things worse. It seemed like no matter how much he threatened him to tell you where you were or to even tell him if you were still alive, his lips were sealed

Even though he had the Sheep, he still felt abandoned and…alone

So of course he was relieved, heartbroken and pissed when he finally found you, or rather when you found him

He had to blink back tears (was it from the burning sensation of being stabbed with poison or the fact that you’re really standing in front of him, alive?) when he saw that you’re actually here and not a hallucination, but the sense of dread in his stomach worsens when he sees you dressed up in expensive clothes and standing next to the very bastard that he’s coming to despise more and more, with what seemed like your own set of men that you were ordering around

It didn’t help that he was bleeding out after being stabbed by the very people he was beyond loyal too

You however couldn’t help the tears welling in your eyes, running straight to him and gripping him in a tight hug. Your pants are getting dirty and you have tears streaming your face, but you don’t care. You just hug him tighter, with him slowly coming to weakly embrace you back

You just kept spewing out apology after apology, but he just kept his arm wrapped around you, keeping the other on his stab wound. He had so many questions, so many things to say, but-

“Awww, this is so touching! But (Y/N), don’t you think we have some business to take care of before you start your family reunion?”

He couldn’t even spit out an insult quick enough before he could feel himself passing out, but he did hear you calling out to him…

When Chuuya awoke, he saw you by his side, loosely gripping his hand. When you felt him shift, you jumped up. While you’re both glad that you’re finally reunited with one another, he was furious and you had a lot of explaining to do

The icing on the cake was that you admitted that you still watched over him- you never completely left him alone. You couldn’t approach him without raising suspicion of possibly trying to abandon the Port Mafia, let alone get close with Dazai breathing down your neck, but you always settled for just making sure that he was still breathing, still living, even if you weren’t there by his side

A lot of tears were spilled, voices raised, just like the fateful night you left him, but this time it wasn’t out of anger- it was out of pain. You both were hurting in this situation- you because of having to leave your little brother behind to protect him, and him because you left him and he blamed himself this whole time because of it

“(Y/N) you need to understand that just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you get to call the shots, got it?! This isn’t the first time we ran into problems, into dangerous situations and it won’t be the last. But you need to get it through your thick head that we do it together. Stop acting like you’re the only one who has to go through these things alone, because you don’t. It’s never been like that and it sure as hell won’t start today.”

So even though things aren’t exactly back to normal (it felt weird having your little brother sit next to you as an executive too) you got each other back. In a twisted kind of way, the one organization you guys couldn’t stand was the same one that brought you together again

But you wouldn’t be separated anymore. The Port Mafia got what they wanted in the end unfortunately, but so did you and Chuuya

[rreyie]

sheets

summary- you think it’s about time to explore sex in your relationship. but will levi agree?

warnings- smut, unprotected sex, oral sex, dacryphilia, a little usage of pet names at the end

a/n- this fic is just basically canon levi if he was hornier, isayama confirmed he is in fact a sub so i’m doing what i can with that information

*this work is a part of the 500 follower milestone special

bringing up this conversation wasn’t easy.

you had been dating levi for about a year now, since the rumbling had stopped. you two talked about getting married, buying a house, but somehow he had always seemed to avoid the topic of sex.

you knew he went through some stuff during his childhood which made him a little apprehensive to engaging in any physical contact. you were understanding of this and took things slow, which he seemed to appreciate. you’ve only suggested it once, but even then levi seemed oblivious to the fact that you were ready for the next step in your relationship.

you had eventually come to the conclusion that if you wanted this, you needed to be upfront with it and tell him directly what you needed.

you decided to make a move one night when you two were about to settle down for the night. levi was drinking a cup of tea while reading a rather large novel. he licked a finger and turned the page as you came walking into the bedroom.

“hey levi”, you say, climbing into bed next to him. “whatcha readin’?”

his head turned up to you, calm gaze meeting yours as he shut the book. “just something i found on the bookshelf. thought it would be interesting to read something other than documents relating to the war.”

you nodded and pulled the plush grey comforter over your body until it came up to your chest, and snuggled into levi’s body. you could feel him tense up a little bit, but then wrapped an arm around you and pulled you in closer.

gradually, you scooted your backside to the point where you were laying on his lap, head resting on his toned chest. the arm that was once wrapped around you was now resting on your head, fingers gliding though your hair. he placed a soft kiss on your head, and rubbed it.

you returned the favor, peppering small kisses along his jawline and on his cheeks. his face was rather cold, but you had gotten used to the feeling since you started to date him. you took a hand and brushed his raven hair out of the way of his forehead and kissed above his eyebrow and on his forehead. he moved his face so that his lips aligned with yours and pressed the back of your forehead so that lips would crash with his. levi had not always been a good kisser, but he learned once you told him what to do.

the kiss got deeper and deeper until you two were practically making out, something that rarely occurred between you two because he thought that making out was too sloppy for him. his tongue fought with yours, soft lips continuously bashing up against yours.

you pull away from the kiss, a look of discontent on levi’s face as he pulls you in again.

“wait, levi...” you say. “i-i wanted to try something new, only if you’re okay with it.”

his brows furrowed, and he sat himself up so that his back was against the headboard. “what?”

“well, i was thinking that we could take this a step further- only if you’re comfortable. i don’t want to make you scared or anything.” you could feel your cheeks begin to warm, but levi’s face was pale and for the most part emotionless as always.

he raised an eyebrow to this. “what exactly are you suggesting, y/n?”

you sigh, and take a deep breath. you anticipated that he wouldn’t know what you were talking about. but now that the time had finally come to be clear with your request, butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“i want to have sex.”

his silver eyes widened, and he took his hands off of you but still let you remain in the position you were in. that was an indication that he wasn’t too mad.

“well, i uh...” he stammered. “i haven’t really thought about it, actually i’ve never thought about it. it sounds gross-“

“oh okay then. i’ll go to bed then-“

“wait, no.” he interrupted. “i never said i didn’t want to. i just don’t know how...”

“that’s alright”, you say, straddling his hips. “i’ll show you what to do. just sit back and relax.”

you press a kiss to his lips once more before focusing your attention on his crotch covered by his thin pair of pajama pants. you slip a hand down into them just so your fingers grazed upon his cock.

“ah, oh god-“ levi chokes. your hand retreats.

“what’s wrong? did i hurt you..?”

“no...” he says. “i’m just- just not used to being touched like that.. please just keep going.”

you nodded and proceeded to move your curious fingers in between where his groin and boxers met, slipping your hand through his boxers where you could feel him. his cock was hot, throbbing and pulsating though his skin. you could see him wince, but that only made you go further.

you pulled his pants and boxers completely down so he was exposed. taking his length in your hand, you pump him slowly to try and get him hard. his tip began to become more prominent, the head turning a nice shade of red. a bead of white began to leak from his tip. you smeared it around, making him fist the sheets eagerly. he mumbled a few curses under his breath.

“enjoying that?” you ask in a half teasing voice. this made him flash a warning glare at you. you never knew that he would enjoy a handjob this much, being the one who was grossed out by the idea of intercourse.

he wasn’t necessarily a large guy down there, hence being malnourished as a child. but you weren’t going to judge yet, you haven’t even gotten to get him inside of you.

you figured that you had been fisting him long enough that he probably wanted something more that the hand, so you lowered your head down to his groin and put your tongue right on the tip. it was hot underneath the slippery flesh of your tongue, but that was exactly how you liked it. you gently licked him starting from the bottom of his throbbing shaft up, making a groan slip from his mouth. your head shot up instantly, smirking at the sight of levi panting even though you’ve done almost nothing.

you continue and begin to slide your mouth around his cock, and his eyes began to roll into the back of his head. it was almost funny how sensitive he was, seeing how his tongue started to hang out of his mouth as you continued to envelope him.

“f-fuck...” he whined. you chuckled, sending the vibrations through his cock and making him thrust his hips into you, tip hitting the back of your throat. you lifted your head up from him and coughed, levi pouting because you had stopped your ministrations.

“ready to actually get into it?” you ask him, beginning to unbutton your shirt. his eyes were half-lidded, likely as a result of the pleasure he was just immersed in. a little bit of drool hung out of his mouth, cheeks heated and a shade of red. he looked so pretty like this, all fucked out even though you’ve only blown him for all of five minutes.

his gaze focused on your chest as you slid out of your nightshirt. he had seen you naked plenty of times before, but it seemed to just feel different tonight. perhaps less innocent then the past few times.

“lay down for me, and just relax”, you say to him as he nods and lays himself down on the mattress of your bed. you pushed your panties to the side to reveal your mound, already somewhat wet from the past activity. levi gulped and grabbed your hips to drag them on top of his.

“if anything i do is uncomfortable, please just tell me”, you said as you began to sink down on his length. his grey eyes rolled into the back of his head, grabbing the sheets even harder than before.

“ah-oh fuck-“ he groaned. his words were strained as if someone was choking him. but your hands weren’t on his throat, they were intertwined with his to have something to hold on to. it made it seem more intimate, more close than you two have ever been.

you started to bounce yourself on his lap, feeling him slide between your walls. though he wasn’t necessarily well endowed, he still managed to fit nice and snug inside of you.

“h-how’s it feel, love?” you ask him. but he can’t speak right now, since the new sensations are taking over his body. his balls are starting to tighten, blood rushing to his dick. “i get it baby boy, you’re feeling new things.”

all of a sudden, you see a little tear drop from his left eye and run down the heated flesh of his cheek. a barely audible sob escapes his lips, jet black hair all in his face and splayed out on the pillow.

“oh... you’re crying?” you ask, a soothing tone in your voice, but you don’t stop your bouncing. “it’s alright.” you take your thumb and place it on his cheek, wiping the tear away.

“j-j-just feels... so good...” he stutters, voice cracking with each word.

“i know, i know”, you coo. “i’m taking good care of you. just try- try to relax.”

your pace quickens and his grip around your hands seems to tighten, another moan failing to stifle from his mouth. his moans were so goddamn pretty, they weren’t like most men. they were gentle and quiet, breathy and somewhat high pitched. well fuck, what else did you expect? he’s always pretty.

“think i’m- m’ gonna cum” he gasps. and to be honest, you were about to as well.

“i know baby, but can you wait a moment? just for me?” you ask. “just gotta- oh my god, right there-!” you yelp as you tilt your angle and find out exactly where levi can hit your sweet spot.

the repeated motions are enough to send you over the edge, making you twitch as levi lets out another cry and spills himself into you, not even caring to pull out. his tongue was hanging out of his mouth, a bit of drool at the tip. he was like a dog, completely at your mercy.

after you’ve come down from your high, you take a look at how levi was holding up. a sweet smile forms on your face as you notice how he is, panting with cum littering his abdomen.

laying down next to him, you brush a few strands of hair out of his pale face. his tired, hooded eyes look up to you, an amazed expression painted on his face.

“you did so well. i’m proud, levi”, you say sweetly, placing a kiss on his soft lips.

he kissed you back briefly, but the moment soon was cut short after he realized how much cum was everywhere. he shot up from his position and immediately sprung off the bed.

“levi what are you-“

“fuck, there’s cum absolutely everywhere”, he groaned. “get these sheets in the laundry while i clean up. then hop in with me, we’re gonna sleep on the couch tonight, alright?”

you giggle. though you did like levi when he was all sweet and submissive, you had to admit that you did miss his bossy side.

[bonny-kookoo]

Sweet Girl [J.JK x Reader]🔞🌼☁️

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, angst because I like to cry myself to sleep

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, dom!jungkook, sub!Reader, size kink is still strong, mild dd/lg themes, praise kink, long haired jungkook because yes that needs to be a warning, strength kink, they fuck in the kitchen smh

Jungkook and you are in a healthy relationship, managing all those things couples have to manage; building an IKEA bed, having your first fight, or arguing who should do the laundry this time. Apart from that, your life inside your bedroom has been pretty active as well, leaving Jungkook more satisfied than ever. He's not a horny teenager anymore after all, trying not to bust a nut just because he got a glimpse of your nipples through your rather thin shirt- yet you always manage to be so unbelievably sinful, he can't help but snatch a taste every now and then. After all, you're his- he's simply reminding you.

This is part of the 'Good Girl'-Universe!

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Jeon Jungkook and you loved to tease each other. From the way he would rub his sweat-soaked hair all over the crook of your neck playfully after his workout just to rile you up, just to exclaim happily that you love him too much to actually be serious when you yell that he's disgusting. And he's right- even if he's exhausting to be around sometimes with his seemingly endless energy (seriously, you're convinced at this point that he's the human embodiment of the energizer bunny), or how he could sometimes forget that you're not as tough as his other male friends that he was regularly around. You catch yourself laughing inside yourself every time you turn into a crybaby and tear up when a comment gets under your skin, because his entire body changes posture- every time he notices you getting hurt because he's too rough while playfighting, or when he again tells you you could just get your chubby butt up and work out with him, completely ignoring the fact that he knows its a very sensitive topic for you; he literally turns into a complete child who just got asked to explain rocket science. Jungkook isn't used to handle something as fragile as a girl- plus, you play along and usually brush off most things so easily, that he simply sometimes forgets that you actually have weak points.

One of these moments occured early on in your relationship; it was a silly mistake on his side really. When Taehyung asked him straight up if he was dating you, you didn't expect a huge love proposal; Jungkook wasn't like that. But a simple yes would've been okay as well- yet Jungkook being the cocky bastard he was, simply made a comment along the lines of 'nah, I'm just screwing her.' It was meant as a joke really, and it took him a good thirty seconds to notice your demeanor changing. Deep inside you, you knew he didn't mean it like that, yet it still hit you hard, especially considering his past hobby of trying to be the biggest manwhore around. When he'd went after you just when you had told him you'd be using the bathroom and not returning after a good ten minutes, he'd bursted into the womans bathrooms just in time to see you trying to wipe away your tears. His face had been priceless really now that you thought about it; before that moment you always had a hard time imagining that 'kicked puppy look' people always talked about- he didn't look like you just kicked him, but full on sucker punched his prized playstation out of orbit just for a laugh. He was totally unprepared and clearly had no idea what to do in that moment, never having needed to deal with tears in that way- and your face had hit him especially hard, considering how it was his fault at that. Considering how lost he really was he dealt with it quite sweetly, yet in a typical Jungkook fashion- uncaring of other woman and girls trying to get into the bathroom, he'd grabbed a considerable amount of tissue paper from the dispenser next to the sink you were standing in front of, promptly sitting you on top of it to properly have you at eye-level with him to wipe away your tears and smeared make up, telling you how you looked better without it anyways, and how sorry he was for being an utter asshole and idiot at the same time. You honestly started laughing at that. Not necessarily his comment even though it was true, but his extremely concentrated face, as if he was restoring an ancient artwork or something the likes of that. He audibly sighed at that, glad to know you didn't hate him. Because that was his innermost fear; you probably seeing the dickbag he thought he was underneath and leaving him for good. Not that he'd tell you that. You knew of that fear though.

Needless to say, it wasn't the only thing that happened between you both. Yet you've always overcome these things with ease, both of you growing surprisingly mature about arguments as time went on. Jungkook changed you as well- you were a wallflower before, and if you were honest, you kind of still were. But you were carrying yourself with a newfound confidence because of his daily praises- turning heads every now and then simply because you actually liked yourself these days. And Jungkook noticed as well- always commenting on how he didn't know if he liked the change or not, considering how much attention you now got everywhere you both went. You simply countered that with a simple comment along the lines of 'Now you know how I feel', because he was glowing up every month it seemed. Yet he stayed true to his words back then to you; he really did only have eyes for you anymore.

What really did piss him off was just how innocent you could be sometimes. It had him fuming how oblivious you could seem to others shamelessly flirting with you, yet he knew that he loved that about you just as much. The fact that you would willingly (and happily of course) let him corrupt you over and over again fuled his pride to no ends, making him feel like he was your knight in shining armor, even if it sounded sappy. Right now however he could really use some more patience, because he was sure his own amount was slowly running out. When he came back home, he didn't really have any plans, except for the one you had already agreed on. You both wanted to cook something tonight, nothing fancy, simply craving some kind of 'bonding time' as you called it, even though he had immediately told you this could be done in a different way, to which you blushed. He loved making you embarrassed, almost craving the way your flustered cheeks would turn into a beautiful red shade.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

He knew those plans would change however as soon as he spotted you on the couch in his living room. That itself wasn't something new since you lived here, but the attire you chose was rather.. unfair. He was supposed to keep it in his pants tonight, yet he could already feel himself rising against the fabric of his sweatpants at the view of you in a black shirt of his, oversized on your way smaller body. Yet that exactly did it- because that was all you wore, apart from your flimsy pair of pastel blue lace rimmed panties. You raised your head from out of your book and he was a goner as soon as he saw those eyes.

"Babydoll you're being really unfair right now." He groaned as he sat down on the couch, making you bounce a bit next to him. You looked at him confused, his patience snapping. Maybe it was his frustration that had filled up his mind during the day, or simply his habit of taking what he wanted when he wanted it, but soon enough you found yourself on his lap, your legs on either side of his. His hands were fast to reach under your, or more so his shirt, growling when he felt your bare breasts underneath his fingers. You really were asking for it.

Stop. Mission abort. Cancel all open tasks. Shutdown, emergency-

With a sigh the young boy detached himself from you, running a hand through his hair rather agressively. Even though he would usually not feel too bad about his actions, especially with you, considering he felt rather safe and comfortable around you, he had to remember the small argument you both had the night prior. It really hadn't even been an argument if he was being honest, and it was basically all on him that night, yet he felt like he needed to second-guess his actions now. It had been a simple question really, admittedly a fair one at that, however, it also was one he rather feared answering. Yes, Jeon Jungkook was actually scared of a mere question.

'Why won't you kiss me?'

Well, yeah. Why wouldn't he? To answer that would mean to expose himself, to open himself up, to be vulnerable- and even though he knew deep down that you would never use anything against him in an almost predatory meanor others in the past had, he couldn't shake the feeling off. The fear, of what he couldn't tell. He simply waved you off, telling you that you both didn't need those sappy gestures, and you had simply nodded, accepting that, even though he knew that you felt hurt by his answer. Hell, he felt hurt by his own answer. And what had hurt him even more was your reaction to it; somehow he wanted you to be offended, to openly dig at his wounds, to scratch at his scars and make him spill his blood into your hands. He didn't want you to feel like he only loved you physically, like he only wanted to own your body, because he craved so much more than your touchable form. He wanted to build his home into your very soul, wanted to surround himself with your voice and live in your very heartbeat- yet it didn't matter how romantic and oh-so poetic his own thoughts could be. It didn't matter at all if he couldn't say it.

He looked at you, internally cringing at the way you looked at him, utterly confused. You'd gotten so used to him using you that it made his own saliva taste bitter, making him crinkle his brows a little. "I-" He started, yet took a deep breath, his eyes aimlessly dancing over the plush carpet, analyzing the various shades of light brown it presented to him. Right now he hated it. Hated how it made his apartment, your apartment feel like home. He hated how it did fit into the living room even though he'd complained about you buying it, arguing that you started to take over his life back then when you both didn't even date each other. He hated how he fell in love with it after he'd seen you lay on it with your phone in hand, the small white fan in the corner of the room softly blowing your hair and clothes during the summer. He hated how he remembered spilling his soda on it one day, freaking out because he knew even if he would cover it up you'd notice, you always noticed. Just like now. Because the hand you'd placed on his shoulder as a form of comfort had never felt so heavy on him, like a brick trying to force his entire back down. "M' sorry.." He simply grunted out, putting his head in his hands.

"What're you sorry for?" You had laughed a bit uneasy, and he hated the sound of it. He always pictured himself as the man who was oh-so protective of you, yet right now he'd never felt so small. "Is it about yesterday? You don't have to change Jungkookie, I don't mind-" Yet he had to shut you up, turning a bit to look at you with a face melted into a vision of being thrown side by side by your own thoughts. This was exactly the issue. You didn't mind- and he knew that you didn't even lie about that- it made everything so much worse.

The nickname, the way you said it, the way you meant it- it all just punched his guts even harder. Instead of answering he simply took your face in his hands, placing his lips onto yours with so much emotion you could feel them trembling. His kisses turned into more than simple pecks, they turned into desperate cries of confusion, of insecurity, of so many things you would've never associated Jungkook with. Slowly your bodies fell into place again, with him laying you down on your back, a pillow falling down and knocking a fork down from the small table, yet none of you cared about it in that moment. As soon as you reached for his belt he'd grabbed your hand, holding them with such care. "No no- I-" He said, switching between kissing and talking. "I want to- no, I need to make love to you, yeah?" You squeaked at his sudden movement when he'd picked you up, trying to carry you to the shared bedroom, yet aborting that mission as well by simply sitting you ontop of the kitchen counter, the marbled stone cold underneath your butt. You gasped into the open air, the way he'd just lifted you with such ease making you feel so small- in every good way possible. Yet even though this wasn't the first time making out in the kitchen, this was new- to both of you. He had no clue what to actually do, exploring new territory as well as you did in that moment, never having gone slow before. Yet he slowly eased into it, his arms leading his hands over your exposed skin, fingers softly squeezing the flesh of your thighs. His kisses started to wander, caressing your neck, yet even though his dominant side was starting to show the more comfortable he got with what he was doing, you noticed a slight difference in his demeanor. His arms weren't limiting your movement, weren't moving you around to his hearts content- even though you would never complain about that- they were around you, his hands on your back, bunching up the fabric of his shirt in his hands, then letting go just to repeat like a kneading cat. "You're so sweet, so so sweet, did I ever tell you that?" He whispered almost like a secret, and you felt like he was bewitching you in a weird way. "Wanna keep you all to myself, wanna hide you like a secret." He said lowly, almost growled, and you felt yourself slowly fall for his word with every sound he made. "But I also wanna show you everyone, wanna show everyone how lucky I am, how I got the prettiest and sweetest of them all." He said, hands wandering up his shirt you were wearing, running over your soft breasts, squeezing them softly and relishing in the way they felt under his fingertips. He always loved your skin, even though you'd complained before how you disliked the slight chub on your lower belly, or how your thighs were thicker than most girls your height. Yet he couldn't find anything wrong with it, loving the way it gave you such a soft vibe and feel. This was you, every little flaw that you were seeing he saw as another thing to love about you, as sappy as it sounded. "You're my good girl, my best girl.." He said before he started to move your already ruined panties to the side, his fingers exploring your heat. "My only girl." He said, making you mewl into his neck, hands now grabbing his shirt for a change. He made you shuffle a bit closer towards him, standing between your legs while his tattooed hand pushed two fingers inside you, reaching to make you feel good, yet never going the usual pace.

"Jungkoo-ah- Jungkookie please-!" You sighed, and he simply chuckled, kissing your neck, down to your collarbone where he playfully nipped at the skin, loving the sounds you were making. "No no no, I wanna go slow yeah? Wanna make love babydoll, we got time.." He said, and you shot him a pout, making him laugh. "Come on I'm trying to be romantic here!" He said, and you reached for his jeans again- making him move your hands away again. "Nuh-uh. Good girls are patient. You can wait right, pretty girl?" He said playfully, making you pout again. He couldn't help but comply with you. How could he not? He loved you. He really did. Fuck, he really, really did. Undoing his belt and letting his pants fall to his knees along with his underwear, he reached for your butt, making you shimmy even closer to him so he could swiftly enter you, making both of you gasp out both in anticipation and relief from your side for getting your way.

The simple view he had of your form speared on his cock was the sole reason he loved every position that made him look at you. The picture in front of him just was too presious yet sinful to be wasted. He wished he could take a picture of it actually, yet he decided against it, having heard his phone fall out of the back pocket of his jeans before, and he was kind of too terrified to see his screen cracked yet. He also couldn't really think about it, the way your walls engulfed him occupying his mind almost completely. His arms encaved you, holding you against him as close as possible, creating a safe haven for you and your mindset. You always slipped into some sort of headspace whenever his praise and affection got to a certain point- something that had terrified you at first, making you feel a bit embarrased as well- yet Jungkook had assured you that it was completely okay and normal, having googled it someday back when he'd been bored on his phone. It was actually quite endearing that your mind trusted him enough to slip into such a vulnerable state, his pride feeding off if it to no end.

He wanted to go slow, yet by the end of it his pace had quickened to his typical ruthless tempo, making you gasp out bursts of breath against his neck, hands clawing at his shoulder blades though the material of his shirt, grabbing onto him for dear life, while on your fast lane to release. When he came himself his breathing got erratic from oversensitivity, yet he ignored it to bring you over the edge as well, even making you ride it out to its fullest afterwards. When you slowly deflated against him, hands simply reaching out for his body, he softly cooed at you, completely enchanted by you in your post-orgasmic bliss. Suddenly he laughed, resting his head in the crook of your neck. "God, why am I like this?" He said, soft smile turning bitter. "Can't even be soft for one fucking time." Yet your hand softly ran through his now slightly damp locks, head turning to look at him with so much endearment he could cry- well, he actually felt his eyes start to sting, but he swallowed them down.

"You don't have to, Jungkookie." You softly said, and he wanted to argue. "Don't change. You're perfect just the way you are. I love you either way. Doesn't matter if you buy me roses or screw me in the kitchen. I take any love you give me." He suddenly laughed, and his eyes turned into sparkling half moons, his bunny smile almost blinding you.

"God I love you."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Jungkookie?"

"hm?"

"I'm hungry."

"There's leftovers in the oven."

"You're not gonna treat me some chicken nuggets?"

"Tomorrow maybe. Its too late now baby."

"Come on, be a sweet baby-boy and do it-"

"Careful sweetheart."

 ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

IT.IS.FINALLY.OUT.Thank you all so so much for waiting so patiently, I really didn't expect all of you to even stay, let alone shower me with all of your support- I really didn't deserve that! I hope I didn't dissapoint too much with it, since I didn't check for spelling errors :( I love you all, and I hope you're all staying safe and healthy during these times! Remember that spreading love begins with self-love, and self-love begins with small steps 💜

[suneatersupportsquad]

red handed; colby brock

request:  im not sure if you do requests or even any imagines for colby brock anymore but i was wondering if you cold make a exception, so basically the plot is that the reader met colby through kat and since then they hit it off, now their in a secretive relationship the only person who knows is kat but she only knows the reader has a crush on colby. one day everyones hanging out in the same room room and colby is sexting the reader, sams curious to whos hes texting and they find out their dating.

dedication: @whydontweanons​

genre: fluff, subtle smut?

pairing: colby brock x gn!reader

characters: colby brock, sam golbach, katrina stuart, corey scherer, jake webber, kevin langue, brennen taylor, devyn lundy, tara yummy

word count: 1.8k

warnings: alcohol, what would probably be underage drinking, NSFW (barely), sexting (duh), mentions of COVID-19, quarantine

a/n: of course i’ll still write for sam and colby!! it’s just that, since i’m not as active of a follower of them as i used to be, my goal is to write for fandoms that i’m more invested in at the moment. but, honestly, i don’t think i could ever really stop writing for them. i love those boys so much. also this plot made me laugh so hard when i saw it in the best way possible. getting this request honestly made my day, so thank you for that!! anyways, i’m a little rusty, but here we go.

important links: masterlist

find more fics at my new blog @trapboysbunny

You and Colby had known each other for a long time - pretty much since he’d moved to LA with Sam - and you had been involved romantically just as long. You had met him and Sam through Kat on a boring Saturday night when all their friends flaked on coming to a little kickback they were hosting. Trying to be a good friend and cheer the boys up, Katrina had invited you to hopefully kickstart some emotional momentum. Your eyes met Colby’s for the first time and you clicked. Something in your gut had told you that the two of you would end up being close, and it was right. You had hit it off immediately, not taking very long to start laughing at one another’s corny jokes and telling stories over Smirnoff Ice while some random late night show played in the background. From that night on, it was history.

Since then, you two had been practically attached at the hip. If you weren’t sitting on the same room or facetiming, you were definitely texting one another. It became a running joke in your friend group that you two had evolved into a pair of siamese twins, or that being without you gave Colby separation anxiety. The two of you found it even more amusing when you actually began dating, not long after that fateful first night. It amazed the both of you that you were able to hide your relationship so well. No one had a clue. The two of you laughed about it quite often, actually, over late night phone calls and tipsy afternoons spent only with each other. No one knew, and nobody needed to know.

Colby, due to the internet and his fanbase being the way it is, preferred to keep his personal (and especially romantic) relationships more on the private side. His intent wasn’t necessarily to hide his feelings and relationship with you from his friends, but that particular topic of conversation never really came up in your friend group. Everyone had just kind of figured that everyone single would simply date someone when they were ready and tell everybody about it when they felt the time was appropriate. It wasn’t that Colby didn’t want to tell them, he just didn’t see the point in going out of his way to tell all of his friends hey after God knows how long I finally have a partner. He just didn’t want to make a big deal out of your relationship. Knowing his friends, they would definitely make it into some type of big thing, not to mention that Jake would dub the occasion as “cause for celebration” (which was really just an excuse to drink more). So Colby preferred to keep things on the quieter side for you two; neither of you wanted to make your relationship into an object for speculation.

Kat was the only person out of all of your friends to have any knowledge of your feelings for Colby. And thank God for her; if you didn’t have her to gush about Colby to, you probably would have either exploded or died. Or both. And she was there for every single second of it. She loved hearing about your movie nights, your urban exploring adventures, the sweet yet mundane things he would do to make you happy, literally anything. She ate that shit up like a man starved, and you did the same for her and Sam (regardless of the fact that their relationship was public already). You hadn’t told her explicitly about the nature of your relationship with Colby, really just gushed about your ever-growing love for the boy. Unbeknownst to you, she firmly believed that you only had feelings for Colby, clueless to the fact that the two of you had actually been dating for quite a while now. With her “go get ‘em, tiger” comments, along with similar remarks, you assumed that she had some sort of idea about your relationship with Cole, hence why you had never explicitly told her about your secret boyfriend. Kat, being the good friend that she was, never spilled your “secret” feelings to anyone else. Not even her boyfriend.

Eventually, quarantine started up amidst the international COVID-19 pandemic and you had begun practically living with the trap boys. A day without you in the house was enough to prompt concern for the boys, minus Colby who always knew the real reason why you weren’t coming over. This soon became the new normal, you taking a “day off” every few weeks to get tested just in case. At this point, it was almost comical that no one had figured out you two were dating yet.

One particular weekend afternoon, everyone in your friend group was hanging out at the house. You and Colby were sitting on opposite sides of the room, you next to Kat and Colby seated beside Sam. It was particularly warm today seeing as this Saturday landed smack in the middle of the infamous August heat wave, so you had thrown on a tank top and some shorts, nothing to flashy. Colby had dressed similarly, wearing only a muscle tee and a pair of trunks.

You were sat beside Kat, the both of you trying to listen to the story Devyn was telling. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t ignore the way your boyfriend was staring at you from across the room. You looked away from Dev for just a second to shoot him a glare when you realize exactly why he’s looking at you. The speed at which the blood rushes to your face is dizzying, and you drop your head to stare at your lap. Motherfucker- You sigh as you pull your phone out of your pocket. “Quit it with the blowjob eyes asshole,” you type before pressing the blue send button.

You feel his gaze break as his phone vibrates. Trying to ignore him, you refuse to meet his gaze again, putting all of your effort into focusing on Devyn’s story. Seconds later your phone vibrates in your pocket. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the screen reads, and you shake your head.

“Uh huh sure ok.” You pressed send again.

Another few seconds passed and your phone vibrated again. “That shirt looks really good on you.” 

You blushed as you read the message, flustered by the comment. Brows knitting together in confusion, you looked up to find him staring back at you with a dopey grin. You hunched over your phone and sent a message back. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, of course,” Colby replied, a gray typing bubble sitting under the message. “But you know how it would look cuter?”

You cocked your head to the side and typed out your response. “How?”

“On my bedroom floor.” You almost snorted at that, clamping a hand over your mouth to prevent any noise from escaping. Typical. Thankfully no one had been paying enough attention to you to notice that you were distracted.

Colby, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. “Give me this, dude,” Sam said, snatching the phone out of Colby’s hand and effectively bringing the conversation on their side of the room to a halt. “You haven’t been listening for like the past 20 minutes, dude. Now let’s see what’s got you so distracted.”

“You don’t need to look at that, Sam, it’s not that important-” The tall brunette sounded slightly panicky as he reached and grappled with Sam for his phone. Sam played around for a little bit before finally reading the screen, eyes widening in amusement.

Upon finishing his reading, Sam lowered the phone and Colby relaxed, already knowing that he was caught. “So who’s ‘angelcakes,’ huh Colbert?” Sam prodded teasingly.

Colby blushed ever so slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re just a friend-”

“Which friend, huh?” Sam continued his teasing, growing louder and louder with every response until all eyes were on the two boys.

Colby shrugged, trying to be nonchalant but looking more stressed than ever in actuality. “Just a friend.”

“What do you say we call this friend, huh boys?” Sam suggested.

Kevin nodded, agreeing. “I think we definitely should.” Brennen also nodded when Sam looked to him for approval, essentially finalizing the decision.

“Okay then, let’s do this thing!” Sam yelled, earning cheers from all the other curious folks in the room. The blonde boy pressed call and Colby simply held his face in his hands.

You jumped when your phone rang, honestly having forgotten that oh shit, I’m angelcakes. Everyone turned to look at you curiously, Colby even peeking through his fingers. You didn’t even pick up the device, already knowing whose name would be lighting up the screen. “You gonna pick that up or something?” Corey asked awkwardly.

You shook your head, leaving your phone face down in its spot beside your thigh. “No, it’s probably not important anyways.”

A beat of heavy silence passed before Tara spoke. “Gee, they sure aren’t giving up. Maybe you should answer it.”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s just-”

“Yeah, you should answer the phone, Y/N,” Jake agreed, the pieces seeming to click in his head.

You sighed, burning bright red to the tips of your ears. “Okay okay, fine.” You stood and clicked the answer button. “Hello?”

And there it was, your voice echoing from Colby’s phone. The room erupted in cheers of disbelief, the boys pouncing on Colby and the girls slapping you in playful excitement. “I knew there was something going on between you two!! There’s no way there couldn’t have been -- I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Kat squealed, smushing you in a hug.

The rest of the girls echoed the sentiment, a chorus of ‘same’s and ‘I can’t believe you’s. It took a while for everyone to calm down but, once everyone settled, you and Cole managed to get some alone time. The two of you escaped out back, the less than mediocre breeze cooling the sweat that slicked your skin. You held each other, almost as though you were about to start slow dancing. “Damn, caught red handed, huh?”

You laughed breathily, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. “It was only a matter of time, ya know?”

“I know,” he agreed, cheek pressing against your hair. “I’m glad we don’t have to be weird around them anymore.”

“Me too,” you hummed.

Colby pulled away a little bit, just enough for him to look you in the eyes, your arms still around his neck. “Hey.”

You giggled, confused. “Hey.”

“I love you.”

You smiled your confirmation, eyes twinkling under the cheap backyard lights. “I love you.”

.x

[luukeskywalker]

dinluke - first kiss?

YEAAAH BROTHER YOU KNOW JUST WHAT I WANT TO WRITE

“So,” Luke asked, his eyes for once cast shyly down, and Din felt his breath leave his body as he studied the sunlight filtering across the Jedi’s freckle-dusted face. “I have a question.” 

Din nodded his head, a silent invitation to ask. He didn’t trust himself to speak at that exact moment. Still, after everything Luke had done, no questions asked, the man deserved an answer or two. Even if Din didn’t really have a lot of answers, he’d try his best.

Luke continued to look down. The light hit the fringe of his bangs and his eyelashes at just the right angle, turning his features golden. “I know that some Mandalorians don’t remove their masks.” 

Din’s whole body turned to ice. Was Luke thinking of their first meeting? Where, without shame, he’d removed his helmet? Broken his sworn Creed? He’d never asked in the months since that day, even though Din had visited his academy often to ask question after question about the force, and raising a Force-sensitive child, and once or twice how to handle a lightsaber (however, he hoped he wouldn’t have to keep those lessons in mind for much longer…), and foolishly Din had hoped that Luke had put that unmasking out of his mind entirely. 

But clearly not.

“And I was wondering, I guess, how - um.” Luke laughed, a shy little thing that sent a light, gentle feeling fluttering through Din’s chest. He tried not to think about it. “Sorry,” Luke ran a hand through his perfect hair, “I’m trying to find the right words.” 

Din had a problem. It was something unlike he’d ever experienced before, and it ate at him with a ferocious, confusing, desperate hunger. He did not know what to do with it, but it burned in his chest whenever he caught a glimpse of that damned Jedi’s smile.

He certainly hadn’t expected it. When Luke had taken Grogu with him, Din had not expected to ever see the handsome young man again. He’d certainly never expected Cara Dune to lose her mind once the man had left, and could not believe it when she immediately told him who, exactly, that had been - Luke Skywalker. 

At the time, the name held no meaning for him. He could only attach the name to an ephemeral black-clad Deus ex Machina that had swept in and, in equal measures, saved his life and took it away from him. 

Oh, how things had changed. It didn’t take him long to track down that Jedi academy, and for some reason Luke was more than willing to entertain his endless questions. He’d even smiled with an almost smug glee when he’d asked Din if they could hold their conversations in the privacy of his own quarters. 

It was all downhill from there. The real Luke Skywalker was leagues different from the one he’d met on that Imperial cruiser. This Luke almost always had a smile on his face, and answered Din’s endless array of stupid questions with a joyful patience. He’d inform Din on Grogu’s progress with barely concealed excitement, and was not even a little hesitant to show off his newest student’s skills. For that matter, he never stopped talking - he always had something to talk about, whether it was some new story about his travels, news from his strange family, or even just an anecdote from one of his classes.

And he was beautiful. He wielded such tremendous power with an insane amount of grace - but not necessarily the dignified kind. He was so bright, his smiles so infectious and his every movement so self-assured and confident, was it really a surprise that Din quickly found his heart racing in the presence of such a stunning man? 

So seeing Luke before him, shy and, dare he say it, nervous, it sent all of Din’s emotions into hyperdrive. “It’s okay,” he found himself saying, suddenly needing to know what Luke wanted to ask. He felt the urge to reach out across the endless expanse of the table that separated them and take up the Jedi’s gloved hand, to feel the warm whir of the mechanical limb under his touch. 

“I was just wondering how you - showed affection for your, ah, partners.” Luke finally said, the words spilling out of him almost too carefully, as if to mask some emotion from bleeding into his voice. “I imagine that you have ways around that helmet, right?” 

His heart stopped, sputtered for a few horrible, endless seconds, and then started again. Blood rushed to his face and had he not been wearing his helmet, he was sure Luke would know everything. 

“... Yes,” He said eventually. “The Creed does not get in the way of intimacy.” A pause. “You don’t have to wear your armor around your Clan.” 

“But,” Luke looked down again. Din wanted to protest, wanted to see those blue eyes focused on him again. “What if you’re not Clan?” 

His heart was pounding so hard that he was surprised Luke couldn’t hear it, even through his polished armor. He didn’t know what came over him just then, but the way Luke’s voice quivered when he asked that question made something in Din’s mind snap. 

He stood up from the table and moved to stand in front of Luke. The Jedi looked up at him then, and any doubts Din might have had were silenced immediately by the shy, excited glint in Luke’s eyes. He reached down to cup Luke’s cheeks in his own hands. He was grateful for the armor again, for protection from his own shaking, nervous hands. 

He pressed in close, close enough that Luke’s breath fogged in his visor. For once, Luke said nothing. With the lightest amount of effort and an excruciating slowness, with the fear that Luke would for some reason bolt if he moved even a little too eagerly, he pressed his helmet to Luke’s forehead. 

Under his gentle touch, he felt rather than heard Luke’s shuddering breath. Din hoped that Luke had noticed that his breath had been stolen in much the same way. Everything was too much, but he couldn’t tear himself away. 

Luke was so warm. Din had known this before, had been lucky enough to bask in the residual warmth that emanated off of him in waves, but this… this was different. That heat licked at his fingertips and scalded the spot where his skin met Din’s helmet, as if he was being burned through Beskar. 

They stayed there for a long time. Longer than a kiss had any right to be. And when Din finally pulled away, slowly, as if it pained him (and in some ways, it did), he was so awestruck by Luke’s stricken, blushing face that he almost went in for another. 

“... There are ways around the Creed,” Din said shakily. 

“I see.” Luke’s voice was barely a whisper. He smiled, and then laughed, and it was as if the fragile moment was over. “I see.” He spoke louder, closer to his normal volume. “And… do you make out like that with just anybody who asks?” 

Din hoped that somehow, Luke knew that his eyes rolled. “A Mandalorian never kisses and tells.”

[milkacchan]

Request for anon: Hi! Could you write hcs for poly bakusquad with a quirkless reader who has a serious independent streak but has recently been a target for villain attacks and got injured, but refuses to rely on anyone and tries to ignore their pain and take care of everyone else, please?

This is gonna be a little angsty

• First- it annoyed bakugou that you, someone /quirkless/ made it into the hero class

• On pure fucking spite and anger alone

• You didn't even particularly want to get in to UA

• It was just something you chose to prove someone wrong about

• and it fucking aggravated him- more than aggravated him

• Inspired Deku though, he hated that even more

• and he isn't surebhow- but he ended up talking to you and suddenly you're part of his friend group and he's /okay/ with that

• that irks him too.

• and a lot of things are uncovered when y'all are friendly w eachother

• and they learn pretty fucking fast about your independent streak

• and when you all started dating (crazy how they managed that) they thought it might go away- only it didn't.

• You never asked for help, regardless of what it was- you'd handle it on your own.

• You got hurt during training? Don't worry about it, I'm fine.

• Failed a test? You'd disappear for a few days to study and retake it.

• Didn't know what you were doing in a particular subject? You'd teach it to yourself.

• Aizawa had heard the words 'help' ONCE and he was limited to the help you'd allow him to give you .

• You trained your ass off everyday, you worked hard in school, you took no shit- it was obvious you felt like you had something to prove.

• Bakugou felt like he was a partial reason for that and it made him feel like shit.

• He wasn't exactly the kindest to you when classes started in first year.

• But he was concerned.

• They were all concerned.

• recently, you'd been stressed out. They could tell, even if you weren't giving them signs.

• On top of that, you'd become a big target for villains and no one knew why.

• it seemed like both you and midoryia were a magnet for assholes in masks

• And they tried talking to you about it, they do.

• Denki brings it up, he's holding your hand, Kirishima is threading his fingers through your hair and Seros behind you, holding your waist. Mina is in between your legs, resting her head on your chest and bakugou is at the end of the bed.

• And Denki asks if you need help- whether its coping with it- or dealing with it while its happening- or trying to figure out /why/ they're attacking you

• and you blow him off "it doesn't matter, i'll deal with it if it happens again."

"It's not a matter of if, it's a matter of when." Bakugou glares.

"Okay, then when it happens again, I'll deal with it."

"That's fucking stupid," he growls.

Kami squeezes your hand gently. "Maybe we should have a plan-" he glares at Bakugou.

"I was fine last time. Don't do this."

"Do what? Offer fucking help?" Bakugou snaps and Mina cringes. She grips your shirt. She knows what's going to happen, she knows you're going to stomp off to think- it could be a few hours or it could be days. Sometimes, if she held something on you, you'd stay. She hoped this was the case.

"Your fucking pity." You seeth. "I don't need it. I can take care of myself."

"Baby we didn't-" kiri starts but you're already sliding off the bed.

"Babe," Sero looks at you. "please come talk about it,"

You say nothing, and let the door close behind you.

"Fuck." Mina sighs

• Its 2 days.

• 2 days before you resurface, calm and collected, like nothing happened.

• but you're busy- you're training harder. Much harder, you're pushing yourself past your limits and its obvious

• they were already impressed. Theg already knew you could take care of yourself. Why couldn't you see that?

• you push and push and push

• and they don't see as much of you

• when they do see you at the end of the night, you always look exhausted

• and you put on the same fucking front each time

• you smile and laugh and kiss them goodnight but they can see you're in pain

• they don't even get a chance to talk about it with you

• because the next thing they know

• theyre in another attack and youre in the center of it

• You're fighting and you're holding him off but you aren't going to last much longer

• You were tired from the day before- you hadn't gotten proper sleep- and he was strong

• It's all kind of a blur, really, you're thrown a lot, youre bleeding

• he had you by the neck at the end, you were clawing at his hands and he was laughing

• your mates weren't exactly in the best shape either- after all, the attack had happened in the middle of the night

• A strong kick to the center of his nose seemed to do the trick. There was a sickening crack and his hand loosened and he fell back.

• When you regained youre senses you froze- he wasn't breathing.

• you /killed/ him.

• Your stomach churned and suddenly all the pain you felt increased ten fold.

• You scrambled to stand up, Mina was the first one you saw and you fell to your knees in front of her, cupping her cheeks. "Baby? Baby you okay?"

"M fine, but you're not, that's a lot of blood." She looked up at you her eyes wide. "Baby that's a lot-"

"I'm okay, I promise."

• She wanted to yell and scream and you, she wanted to hit you and telling to just accept help but you'd already stood up, moving to look around for the others.

• Denki was next, you met him with a hug and a short but desperate kiss. "You okay?" You whisper, brushing your thumb over his bruised cheek. Mina was behind you now, gently brushing her fingers through the blondes hair, but she stepped away when she saw Kiri and Bakugou.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," he smiked softly.

"Eiji? Katsu?" You mumbled.

"They're okay, they're fine. You don't look so good though."

"M- M okay.." you mutter. Youre tired now. Standing here is nice. You're dizzy- Ashido was right. That was a lot of blood.

Your eyes close and your weight falls.

"Hey- Hey- Jesus! Guys! Katsuki! I don't- I can't tell if she's breathing-"

• You wake up in the hospital 2 days later.

• Mina's in the bed with you, hand thrown gently over your thighs. Sero and Denki are on the left side, heads down, eye's closed and arms over your shin.

• Kiris got your left hand in his, another hand in Minas hip.

• Bakugous on the right side, arms crossed and head down.

• and youre confused because why the fuck are you here?

• what happened?

• you miss Katsukis voice next to you when it all comes back

• and you can't help but scramble to sit up and suddenly you can't breathe

• youre not sure how long you zoned out, but when you finally get back, there's two nurses

• ones replacing and IV bag

• and the other is checking your tempature, you think.

• theres another needle stick in your arm but you can't pay mind to it right now.

• the warmth around you was gone and you desperately wanted it back.

• they weren't in the room anymore

• and when the nurses cleared the room, the tears spilled over.

• your brought your hands to cover your face and your head fell back.

• five minutes? 10 minures? Later there was a gentle tap on your shoulder

• it was ashido

• your arms were around in her seconds

• "You okay?" She whispered as the others took their spots around the bed.

"No," you shook your head. "I killed him- and and I could've gotten you guys hurt because I didn't listen," your breathing had started to get faster again.

"Hey, it's okay. Just breathe," she soothes, thumbs stroking your cheeks.

"I can't- I- fuck /help me/-" you gasp out

• It takes awhile, but they managed to calm you down.

• Ashido just holds you, she lets you cry, and Kiri reminds you that you're okay

• they do most of the comforting usually

• when you're breath has finally started to even out, and you can feel the pain again, you know you'll be asleep soon from the pain meds.

"How bad was it?" You whisper, hands still gripling Minas shirt.

"Bad." Katsuki spoke. "You stopped breathing when we got you here."

Sero rubbed his face. "You needed a blood transfusion. They weren't entirely sure how it was going to end."

"You were...you were just standing in my arms and then you weren't moving. And then you weren't answering-" denki breathed. "There was blood everywhere."

"What about you guys?"

"Can you just stop?" Katsuki groaned. "Can you just let us worry about /you/? Let us help. Don't ask about us. You almost /died/ and your only fucking thought is us. Why?" He was crying, head down, hands gripping his pants.

"He's got a point. It's okay to ask for help," kirishima whispers. "So why don't you?"

• you're quiet for a few moments.

• do you go into detail.

• or do you dodge the question.

• ultimately, the fear of losing them outweighed any shame you would have felt

• "its hard not having a quirk." You mumble, eyes down. "Quirks are practically currency. And power is highly valued. I don't have that. I don't have any of that. I'm in a constant risk of being replaced and if I ask for help, they know I'm weak. I can't ask for help."

• And they all feel their hearts shatter a little bit.

• Bakugou had poked fun at you for quite some time in first year for not having a quirk.

• and Denki wasn't much better- neither was Sero. They'd make jokes about how fast you'd drop out.

• Bakugou would break a little bit, reminding you that you weren't weak. You still being alive was proof of that.

• and slowly

• slowly you get accustomed to ask for help.

• its not necessarily with words- sometimes they ask and you just nod

• or you ask in your own way.

• youre independent streak remains- but its not as bad.

[f0rever15elf]

They Were Roommates: Part 1

Modern!AU:  Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5  / Part 6 (coming soon) Pairing: Pero Tovar x fem!reader Rating: NC-17 Word count: 9,509 (I ain’t even sorry)  Summary: A dangerous night leads to an interesting living arrangement between you and one grumpy Spaniard. 

Warnings: Violence, blood mention, death mention, alcohol mention, food mention, reader in danger, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, no beta reader, shameless use of the roommates trope

A/N: So this was gonna start out as just a fluffy little fic and then it turned into something a little bit steamier. I have lost all control of these characters, I’m sorry (not really). 

Masterlist |  Ao3

You should have run. You should have turned on your heel and gotten out of there as quick as your legs could have possibly carried you. You knew better than to go sticking your nose into things that could get you in trouble, Dad had raised you better than this. But Mom had raised you with that tender heart and soft soul, and ultimately they won out over your sense of self preservation. And now here you are, surrounded by a group of brutish looking men who all reek of the cheapest vodka you've ever smelt. The contents of your stomach churn as they banter, joking about all of the things they were going to do to you, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you do your best to keep your knees from knocking together. 

You should have walked the other way. 

But the man on the ground was being beaten. Five on one was hardly ever a fair fight, no matter how strong and rugged the one seemed. And so you had yelled out to get their attention, telling them to back off. And it got their attention alright. The new target was you, and they wasted no time in cornering you against the brick wall. 

"Please, please just let me go. You can have everything in my purse, and I won't tell anyone about this. Please..." You hate the way your voice sounds when you beg, but if it meant surviving, your pride could take the compromise. The one you could only assume was the ringleader barked out an obnoxious sounding laugh and shook his head. 

"No can do toots. We were getting bored with our little punching bag over there. You showed up at just the right time." The four other goons all chuckle and make various sounds of agreement, closing the circle in on your tighter. Your mouth is dry as the Sahara when you try to swallow and your ears are beginning to ring. 

"P...Please don't do this..." you manage to squeak out as the leader slinks up in front of you, bracing a hand by your head as he stares at you with feral eyes. You close your eyes tightly, trying to shrink away from the stink of cheap booze on his breath when a sharp crack from behind the leader breaks the tension. Your eyes snap open to see the man who they were beating standing there with a short piece of pipe clutched in his hands. In front of him, one of the men lay crumpled and motionless on the ground, red staining the ground around his head. Your stomach couldn't take it any more and you double over, emptying the contents of your stomach right onto the ringleader's shoes. Sputtering and gasping for breath you stand back up as the remaining four descend on the dark haired man, leaving you your opportunity to escape. Dark eyes catch yours for a brief moment before the man nods, swinging his pipe again. You decide that's your cue, and turn tail, taking off into the night.

----

The next morning, the blaring sound of your alarm rouses you from a restless sleep. Resisting the urge to chuck it through your window, you instead turn it off, slamming it back down on the bed side table. Sleep had eluded you in favor of nightmares of the men cornering you. Even in your dreams the smell of alcohol was sharp and nauseating. With a groan and a sigh, you toss back the covers and stumble into the bathroom. 

"...I look like shit." The reflection stares back at you with sunken eyes surrounded in dark circles, her hair an absolute mess. 'Death warmed over' is how your mom would word it, and to be honest, it pretty accurately describes how you're feeling this morning. Did you really need to go to work today? One more glance in the mirror and you decide that is a firm "No." Marcy would understand when you call her about it, you know she would. "I should get cleaned up, at least," you mutter, quickly going about your morning routine. 

The shower certainly helped, and with a little under-eye concealer the bags were mostly hidden. Mostly. Today was a me day, you decide, grabbing your purse and heading out the door. First order of business? Caffeine. 

The little coffee shop down the street was your favorite spot for a decent cup of coffee, and the owners were always so sweet. As the bells in the doorway chimed over your head, Samael, the owner, looked up to greet you, smiling as he recognized you instantly. 

"Well, well, well! Good morning to our favorite regular!" 

"Morning Sam. How are you and Anita doing?" You smile as you approach the counter, already digging out your wallet. 

"Well, today. A bit of a busy morning, but busy is a good thing! Will it be your usual today?"

"Please, with an extra espresso shot."

"Long night?"

"You have no idea." Sam just chuckles and shakes his head, ringing you up before going to make your order, muttering something about what it is to be young as he does. 

With your artificial energy securely in your hands, you make your way outside. The sun was shining brightly today, and a cool breeze kissed your skin, beckoning you to spend time enjoying it. The park it is. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn't even notice the man making his way towards you until it was too late. A hiss leaves your lips as hot coffee drenches the front of your blouse, causing you to jump back. "Son of a-! I am so so sorry!" You look up to see who had been unfortunate enough to wear the other half of your drink and your heart nearly stopped in your chest. "It's...you..." 

"Clumsy," he mutters under his breath before scowling back up to you. "You should be more careful." A heat rises in your cheeks and you clear your throat, readjusting your bag on your shoulder. He had an accent, you noticed. Spanish, perhaps? Regardless, it sounded wonderful coming off of his lips, and almost didn’t match the irritated look he wore. 

"I'm honestly really sorry about that, I wasn't paying attention." The man just grunts in agreement, slipping off his coffee soaked hoodie. 

"Clearly. Like I said, you should be more careful." He stares you down with dark brown eyes and you get the feeling he isn't just talking about the coffee incident. In the daylight, you could finally get a good look at him. Dark, curled hair stuck out in almost every direction on top of his head in an organized chaos. His eyes had a hard edge to them, the edge of a man who had seen too much. His skin had an almost golden hue to it, but the most notable feature was the scar that ran along his left eye, now paired with a blooming black bruise. His lip was split and a bruise was creeping its way along his jawline as well. "It's rude to stare." 

The comment sends a jolt through you and you jump, clearing your throat. "Right, I'm sorry I just...You...you're the guy from last night, right...?" You lower your voice as you ask, worried about someone overhearing, though you weren't sure why. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, staring you down with an intensity that made you feel only inches tall. 

"Maybe." 

"...Thank you, then. For..." you wave your hands, trying to complete your sentence, but the thought of what he had saved you from brought a sour taste to your mouth. 

"We're even." His matter of fact tone catches you off guard and you open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out, so you close it, kicking the ground. The whole time, his eyes never leave your face. 

"Did you, uhm, get those taken care of?" you ask, gesturing to his face. 

"They'll heal on their own." 

"So, that's a no then. I have a cold compress back at my place. A-and I can wash your hoodie since I got coffee all over it. It's the least I could do." What are you doing? Inviting a strange man over to your place? A man whose name you didn't even know? A man who literally beat someone with a length of pipe right in front of you last night? If Dad could see you now he'd be reading you the riot act for sure. The mystery man just blinks, considering it for a moment. "And I could make us some lunch...?" 

"Sure." Ah, so the way to this man is through his stomach. That's easy enough to handle. You offer him a gentle smile and nod, turning to head back to your apartment, and he follows just behind you, hands still in his pockets and grumpy countenance still on his face. 

The walk is...strange. Not necessarily uncomfortable, but there was a palpable tension in the air between the two of you, and it was clear this man was not going to be initiating any form of conversation. Clutching at your bag, you clear your throat. "I don't think I ever got your name." You look up at him, curiosity in your eyes. 

"Tovar is what most call me." You nod, testing his name on your lips. 

"Tovar...Spanish, right? That sounds like a Spanish name," you muse, and he just makes a grunt of affirmation. Clearly, this man was the pinnacle of conversationalists. The corners of your lips perk up at your own little joke. You offer him your own name and he nods. "Are you from around here?" The look he gives you absolutely screams "what do you think?" and you felt that heat rise in your cheeks again. 

"Spain. The Eastern region. Moved here about a year ago." 

"Well, welcome to The States." You rummage around in your bag, pulling out your keys to let you both in. You kick off your shoes as soon as you cross the threshold and drop your keys in the bowl you keep by the door. "Home sweet home. Pardon the mess, I wasn't expecting to bring someone home today." The man called Tovar was silent, standing in the doorway with an awkward hunch in his shoulders. "You can come in, you know. Make yourself at home. Ah, and I'll take your hoodie." He hands it off to you without question before slipping off his own shoes, following your farther inside. He remains standing, looking over the pictures you have hung over your walls.  When you return from changing into a clean shirt and starting the laundry, he's found one particular picture that he's picked up off the bookcase to look over and you feel your chest tighten.

"That's my parents." Your voice is smaller than you were expecting it to be, and Tovar looks up at you when he hears it before looking back at the picture. "They passed away a couple of years ago. Car accident." He nods, setting the picture back down. 

"You look much like your mother." His observation brought a small smile to your lips as you turned to head into the kitchen. 

"Most people said I looked more like my dad. But I appreciate the compliment. How do some grilled cheeses and tomato soup sound?" He grunts again, coming to sit at the bar that runs along the side of your kitchen. Mulling over what to talk about as you get out everything for lunch, you decide it was best to jump in head first. "What did those men want with you last night?" You hazzard a glance over to him to see him staring at his hand he’s resting on the bar. When he doesn't reply after a moment, you gently call his name and his head snapped up, as if you broke him from a daze.

"The leader owed me money." Now you're really confused. 

"The big one owed you money, but you were the one getting beat up? Isn’t it usually the other way around?" The first sandwich sizzles in the pan as you flip it before looking back over your shoulder. 

"He called his friends to...deter me from taking what I was owed." For some reason, the way he said that made your blood turn to ice in your veins. 

"Ah." What else could be said? It suddenly felt hard to breathe in the little apartment so between sandwiches, you moved to open a window, feeling Tovar's eyes on you the whole time. 

"That... sounded bad, didn't it?" You look back at him as he speaks up, and you could swear you saw a nearly...sheepish...light in his eyes. But as quick as you saw it, it was gone, replaced with that glowering look he always seemed to have.  "I just did some work for him, and he's shorted me in the past so I didn't want it to happen again." You nod, setting a plate and bowl in front of him, for which he thanks you quietly before hunching over his food. Walking around the bar, you set your own food down and sit next to him as he eats like a man who hasn't seen food in weeks. You pick at your sandwich, thinking. 

"Tovar...what is it you do?" You feel his eyes on you again, electing to keep your gaze on your soup. 

"You're awful interested in business that is not yours," he grumbles before taking another bite.  

"Can you blame me? This isn't exactly a normal situation." 

He sets his spoon down and sits back in his chair with a sigh. "I do whatever I can to make ends meet. To get food to eat. To save for a place to live." You splutter into your soup, grabbing a napkin to wipe your mouth before turning back to him. 

"You don't have a place to live? You're homeless?" 

"I am." That matter of fact attitude astounded you. 

"What the...How can you be so...okay with that?" He just shrugs. 

"It's how I've lived for years since I left the Spanish military. No job, no family, no friends, nowhere to go. I came here to see if I could find something else." His eyes leave yours and he picks up the spoon again, playing in the soup. You sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to wrap your mind around this. He was homeless, probably struggled to ever get a good meal which would explain how voracious he was when you put the food in front of him, and had no one. Your heart begins to ache as it always did when you were met with someone in need. 

"I...have a spare room..." The words are out of your mouth before you're able to second guess them. The look of surprise on Tovar's face as he looks up at you makes your heart stutter for a moment. 

"Are you offering it to me...? I can't pay you yet, I have almost no money." You shake your head and wave him off. 

"I'm not looking to make a profit off you, Tovar. If you need a place to stay, you can stay here for as long as you need. Just help out around the house. The nights are gonna start getting colder." 

"Amiga, you are far too trusting." For the first time, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, oh so slight, but you're sure it's there. 

"I know, and my dad is rolling over in his grave because of it." The laugh that leaves your lips is gentle and light and is the closest thing to music Tovar has heard in a long time. Perhaps things would be alright after all. 

---

It’s been almost two months since you invited Tovar into your home, and it’s nearing a point where you’re finding it hard to remember what living alone felt like. Life with him was comfortably simple. He never asked for much, and did as you asked in terms of helping to keep the house clean. Tovar kept odd hours, a by product of taking odd jobs to try and start amassing some semblance of savings, and it wasn't uncommon for you to come home from work to find the grumpy Spaniard knocked out on the couch with the TV on Telemundo. And every time it brought a smile to your face. When he was sleeping, his face looked so much less grumpy, the frown lines smoothing out as he dreams. You would drape a blanket over him and turn off the TV before heading to your own bedroom to sleep. 

What you weren't expecting was after a night of working late to come home to the smell of popcorn. "Tovar..?" You called out, confused. Normally at this time, he was either out on a job or passed out on the couch. 

"Amiga, you're home! Good!" He comes out of the kitchen, a large bowl of popcorn in his arms. You set your purse down by the door, walking over to him with that puzzled look still on your face. 

"Work held me a little late today. What's with the popcorn?" He hands off the bowl to you before grabbing two beers from the fridge. 

"A celebration is in order." 

"Celebration? For what?" 

"As of today, I am employed!" You blink as a slow recognition lights your face. 

"The security detail job got back to you?" The excitement in your voice is unmistakable and he nods, proud. 

"I start tomorrow." 

"Tovar, that's great!" He nods again, grunting as he moves past you to the living room. 

"So tonight, let's watch a movie together to celebrate." He plops himself down on the couch, spreading out and making himself comfortable, drawing a chuckle from your lips as you move to join him. It wasn’t often that he acted happy, usually staying quiet and reserved even when you knew he was excited about something, so this was a welcome change of pace. 

"As you wish," you grin as you set the bowl down before settling in next to him, pulling a throw over your lap. 

"What shall we watch?" he grumbles, flicking through Netflix. You shrug, popping a few pieces of popcorn into your mouth. 

"Dealer's choice, gruñón."  He rolls his eyes at the nickname you had for him before settling on some Spanish flick you had never seen before, remembering to turn on the subtitles for you. Exchanging the remote for his beer, he settles in, turning off the light on the side table and plunging the room into darkness, save the light from the TV. 

You aren't sure when exactly you fell asleep, You really aren't sure when you ended up leaning against Tovar, and you are EXTREMELY unsure as to when his arm found its way around you. The only thing you are sure of is that this grumpy man holding you to him while he slept was one of the most comfortable feelings you had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. At least, that is what your sleepy haze told you. When it finally clicks that you were cuddled up to your roommate, your heart leaps into a sprint and you tense in his arms. You shouldn't be doing this. You were roommates. Oh my god, you were ROOMMATES! This was crossing all sorts of lines! Wiggling slightly, you do your best to try and worm your way out of Tovar's grasp, but the movement stirs him just enough that he grabs you more securely to him, turning you so your cheek presses against his chest. 

"Hermossa..." His words are but a breath on the top of your hair and you freeze, the sound of his heartbeat strong and steady under your ear. Had you heard that right? Maybe it was just the rustling of fabric. Yeah, that was it, the fabric. Heat was rapidly rising in your cheeks and the tips of your ears were on fire, but struggling too much more to get out of Tovar's grasp would surely wake him, and you knew he needed to be well rested for his first day of work. And so you choose to stay in place, cradled against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat strong in your ear, the sound that slowly lulls you back to sleep. 

---

You thought the morning was going to be awkward, but Tovar never gave you the chance. The sun's golden light pouring through your curtains is what wakes you, alone, on your living room couch. Sitting up, you wipe the sleep from your eyes, your cheeks getting hot again as you recall what you woke to earlier that morning. "Tovar...?" You called softly, standing up to look for your roommate, but only finding a note on the kitchen table, telling you that he had headed in to work with an approximation of when he would be home. He must have tucked you in before he left, and this thought did little to cool the heat burning in your cheeks. 

You slap your cheeks quickly, letting out a frustrated groan as you make your way to the bathroom to get cleaned up for your day. You were friends, that's all. Roommates. Sometimes friends fall asleep on each other, no big deal. So why is it that whenever your mind wandered to the thought of being in Tovar's arms, your cheeks grew hot and your pulse quickened? Why was it that the only thing you could bring yourself to think of was how strong and sturdy he felt as he held you to him? Why was "hermosa" said in his sleepy voice the only sound you could hear as you tried to go about your day? Looking into the mirror as the steam slowly starts to fog it up, you had your answer, proudly displayed in the shine in your eyes.

"...Fuck...I'm falling for my roommate..." 

And so, you do the only thing you can think to do when you find yourself bogged down in thought. You clean. Today was an off day for you, so you had all the time in the world, and the countdown to Tovar's return from work was quite possibly the longest countdown you've ever been faced with. All the better to clean with, you decide, throwing on some music. Working from room to room, you clean every surface that COULD be cleaned; counters, cabinets, walls, baseboards, floors...The apartment would be SPARKLING by the time you were through with it, so help you God. Tovar would inch back into your thoughts time to time, and in retaliation to the errant thoughts, you scrub harder or faster, as if the scrubbing would cleans the thoughts away. So absorbed are you in your cleaning that you don't even hear the door open, or the keys clatter into the holder. 

"Scrub any more and you'll need to replace the tile." You nearly jump out of your skin, letting out an embarrassing shriek as you wheel around, brandishing the bottle of cleaner as a weapon. You're met with Tovar's bemused expression, eyebrow cocked as he leans against the door jam of the bathroom with crossed arms. 

"Jesus, Tovar, you scared the crap out of me!" 

"Thought you heard me come in," he shrugs. "All I can smell is cleaner, have you been cleaning all day?" 

"...Maybe." 

"Why?"  You open your mouth to respond then snap it closed, fidgeting, still on the floor. You couldn't just tell him it was because you had been thinking about him all day, you couldn't make things weird like that. You were roommates, just roommates. 

"Just felt like cleaning is all." 

"Amiga, you are a strange one." He holds out his hand to help you up, his face still disgruntled looking, and you take it. Your knees protest and you groan, stretching as you make it to your feet. 

"How was your first day?" You ask, moving past him, oblivious to the look on his face in response to the borderline lewd groan you let out. He swallows thickly, following you back to the kitchen. He grunts as he sits down, rolling his eyes. 

"I work with a bunch of idiots." You can't help but chuckle, unsurprised at his response. Tovar tended to find most people to be idiots. "But it's steady pay. Better than the odd jobs I was working." 

"That's good. I'm sure you'll be able to take care of any of the idiots at work in short order." You flash him a grin before ducking down to put the chemicals back under the sink. "I was thinking paella for dinner. I splurged on some saffron and seafood at the store when I went shopping the other day." You pop up from behind the counter just in time to see the surprise on his face before it falls back into the resting grumpy face he wears so well. 

"You know how to make paella?" His voice is incredulous, and you nod, grinning. 

"I learned on a trip to Spain several years ago, actually. I just don't normally cook it 'cause my paella pan is really big and well, seafood is expensive." He lets out a grunt, sitting back in his chair and nods. 

"If you mess it up, I'll judge you forever." 

"I would expect no less from you, Tovar." Pulling off your gloves and tossing them under the sink as well, you head back to your bedroom. "I'm gonna shower then get started on dinner." He grunts again, and you don't catch it as his eyes follow you all the way back to your bedroom. 

Fresh from the shower and dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, hair still wet down your back, you make your way to the kitchen to start on dinner. Tovar is nowhere to be seen, so you assume he's hiding in his room. The man enjoyed his privacy. Paella had seemed so intimidating  to you at first, but after having someone walk you through the steps, you picked it up quickly, electing to stick to the more traditional rendition of the dish. After slapping the lid on the paella pan and setting a timer for it to simmer, you walk to Tovar's door, tapping on it. You were just going to tell him that dinner was about 20 away, so you were surprised when the door opened. The sight before you took your breath away. 

He was standing there, shirtless in some loose hanging sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His hair was damp, the occasional droplet dripping from it to roll down the expanse of his chest. Your eyes drifted down for a moment, taking in his muscular physique graced with scattered, faded scars. 

"It's rude to stare," he states simply, but the smirk is evident in his voice. You snap your eyes back to his, your face on fire. His eyebrow is arched and the smirk is firmly on his face. "What do you need amiga?" 

"D-Diner," you squeak out. "Dinnerintwenty!" The words run together before you turn and all but sprint down the hall to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. You lean against your door, sliding down to hide your face against your knees as you attempt to calm your racing thoughts. The way Tovar looked had been positively SINFUL, and your mouth is dry at the thought of how those drops of water looked rolling down his skin. 

"Stop stop stop," you chant, smacking your cheeks again. "None of that, noooone of that." After a few more deep breaths, you're able to compose yourself enough to dart to the bathroom and rinse your face with some cold water before heading back to the kitchen to check on dinner. You notice Tovar has come out to take up residence on the couch, flipping through the channels. He's apparently elected to put a shirt back on, and you'd be lying if you weren't a little disappointed in that fact. He must have felt you staring, because he turns to look at you, eyebrow still arched, and you quickly avert your gaze to the dish in front of you, grabbing a fork to test the rice. Satisfied with the taste and texture, you grab out two plates, serving up a large portion for Tovar, and a significantly small portion for yourself. Two months, and he still ate like a starving man every meal. You had no idea where he managed to put it all. 

"Dinner's ready, Tovar." He grunts, coming back to the bar from his place on the couch to take his seat as you place down two glasses of white wine before hopping into your seat next to him. You watch him anxiously as he picks up his fork, heaping a large bite into his mouth. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as he takes a few more bites before he grunts appreciatively. 

"It won't be winning any awards back home, but it isn't bad." The backhanded compliment was more than you had expected, and a wide smile crosses your face. Satisfied that he enjoys it well enough, you join him in eating quietly. Tovar never really talked while he ate, usually too busy stuffing his face to get a word out even if he wanted to, so dinners were typically silent. You couldn't help the feeling of pride when he helped himself to an equally large second serving. As he sat back down, his knee bumped yours and you squeaked, drawing his gaze. 

"What was that?" 

"N-nothing, just startled me a bit is all." You cram another bite into your mouth, hoping he would drop it. 

"You're jumpy today, amiga." He takes a few more bites before he continues. "Something happen?" 

Oh, you know, just came to a realization that I'm falling for my roommate who I still know so little about and I can't get the thought of you wet and shirtless out of my head, but yeah, I'm totally fine....

Is what you wanted to say. All you were able to say, however, was a simple "No." He nods, scraping up the last few bites on his plate before clearing both of your place settings. You down the rest of your wine in a gulp, hoping it would still your trembling nerves. Tovar loads the dishes into the dishwasher before turning to lean against the sink, arms crossed as he stares you down. "What?" You ask incredulously. He's silent as he stares at you with that grumpy, inquisitive gaze, sizing you up like some sort of quarry. "What is it? Something on my face?" you ask again, unable to bare the intense silence. Eventually, he just shakes his head, pushing off of the counter to walk past you. 

"I have work early tomorrow, so I'm going to sleep," he states, continuing down the hall. The sound of his door shutting is followed by you slumping in your chair, resting your head on the counter. You bang your head against the counter a few times before standing up to clean the kitchen. Once all of the dishes are put away and the counters wiped down, you head down the hall to your own room for the night. A sound coming from Tovar's room causes you to pause. It sounded almost pained, so you stop to listen, concerned he might have hurt himself at work and didn't tell you about it. After all, it wouldn't have been the first time he had done something like that. You can't help the little gasp that escapes your lips when you hear him moan out your name, the shock of it causing you to stumble back from the door, pressing up against the wall adjacent to his door. Wide eyes bore holes into his door as your name drifted through it once more, laced with the lewdest sounding moan you had ever heard. 

Deciding you had heard enough, and feeling rather embarrassed for such a blatant breach of privacy, you bolt for your door, shutting it quietly. Your heart is racing, thrumming loudly in your ears, and your cheeks burn so hot you feel like you could combust just standing there. There could be no mistake, your name had come from Tovar's lips mixed with the unmistakable sounds of pleasure. 

...How the HELL were you supposed to sleep tonight? 

---

The next week or so, you try your utmost to act normally around your roommate, still preparing meals, or covering him with a blanket if you come home late and find him on the couch. But every night plays out the same once you’re safely behind your bedroom door. Those lewd moans lacing your name in his gruff, husky voice. The thought of them caused the heat to pool in your belly every time, without fail. You'd find yourself seeking your own high, getting off to the thought of him over you, moaning your name in your ear. God how you want him. 

There were times where you thought you had built up the courage to tell him that you had heard him, but as soon as those dark eyes meet with yours, all thoughts vacate your mind and you end up a babbling wreck. This was going to kill you, you were sure of it. 

The desperation and desire does nothing but mount the longer this drags on, to the point where even at work you can't seem to manage to keep your thoughts off of the handsome Spaniard sharing your small apartment. Word from your manager saying you're able to head home almost an hour early is a welcome reprieve and your home is a welcome sight as you cross the threshold before immediately making your way to your room, kicking the door closed behind you. Or, mostly closed, anyways. That didn't matter, Tovar wasn't going to be home for several hours. You'd be cleaned up and calmed down by then for sure. 

Shedding your clothes, you sprawl on your bed, slowly dancing gentle caresses over your skin. The pads of your fingers ghost around your nipples before you squeeze both breasts. You let out a quiet sigh as your eyes slip closed. Your imagination runs wild as you picture Tovar above you, his warm breath brushing over your skin, raising goosebumps along it. You shiver at the thought of him whispering your name against the shell of your ear, yearning to feel his stubble scratching against your cheek as he drags kisses down your jaw. 

Your hand finally dips between your legs, spreading yourself and coating your fingers in your own arousal before drifting back up to twirl around your delicate bundle of nerves. Your hips arch up off of the bed under your ministrations, wishing it was Tovar's fingers drawing these moans from your lips rather than your own. His name slips out before you can stop yourself, completely lost in the fantasy of your roommate pinning you to the bed, the image of him in just those loose sweats urging you forward as the heat coils tighter in your stomach, your fingers moving ever faster as you pleasure yourself. "Fuck...Tovar...haaa..." You hiss between clenched teeth as you continue to work, drawing yourself ever closer. It's when you imagine him whispering terms of endearment to you in his native tongue that sounds so good on his lips that you lose yourself completely, tipping over that precipice of pleasure with a long keen of his name, back arched. 

You fall back against the bed, panting as the waves of your orgasm slowly abate, leaving you in a happy haze as you get up to go and clean yourself. You're a mess, aren't you? Unable to think of anything but your roommate pleasuring you, which is definitely not what he signed up for when he agreed to your offer of a place to stay. You ponder how much longer this living arrangement is going to last. He has a steady job now, a steady paycheck. That, coupled with what he already has saved...he would probably be off to find a place of his own soon, and that thought made you sadder than you would care to admit. You can always ask him to stay, but would that be too forward? There was no harm in asking, right? He'd understand, right? Tovar was a bit of a grump, but he was at least understanding with most things....usually. With a grumble that sounds a bit too much like your roommate's, you finish your shower, getting dressed before heading to the living room, nearly hitting the roof when you see Tovar sitting on the couch, playing on his phone. He glances up at you when he hears your gasp, that damn eyebrow quirked up again before his gaze fixes back on his phone. 

"I wasn't expecting you home for another couple of hours, Tovar." You try to make the comment sound offhand as you head into the kitchen to raid the fridge for dinner ideas. 

"Got off early." Oh God, his voice was gruffer than usual and the heat was already pooling in your core again. 

"Well that's good. You've been working late pretty much every night since you started." You settled on just grabbing two beers from the fridge, bringing one over to him after opening it. He just nods, taking a sip of his drink. 

"They let me off because apparently threatening to break William's arm for being an idiot isn't proper etiquette." Your mouth falls open and your eyebrows raise as you stare at him. He looks up at you and you see the glimmer of humor in his eyes, causing your shoulders to relax and a smile to cross your face. 

"Tovar, I never pegged you for a joking man." You chuckle as you make your way back into the kitchen, pulling out the takeout menus. "I don't feel like cooking tonight, come figure out where you wanna order from, what do you want?" You lean against the counter, flipping through menus with your back turned to him, doing your best to keep your mind from wandering to the man sitting on your couch. You jump a little when a hand finds your left hip, the other bracing against the counter as Tovar leans up against you. Instantly your face grows hot and your mouth goes dry at the feeling of him so utterly close to you. The hand on your hip feels electric and you struggle to keep your breathing under control. 

"What I want, hermossa?" His voice is low as he brings his head down level to yours. "Are you an option?" Your knees give then and there and if you hadn't been holding on to the counter, you would have hit the floor. Tovar's grip on your hip tightens and he presses up against you, pinning you to the counter as you tremble against him. "Well?" he nearly growls into your ear, and you squeak out an affirmative as his nose trails a line from your ear down your neck to your shoulder where he places a kiss at the junction before nipping it gently. A shudder runs through your body and you're sure at any moment your eyes would open as you wake from this delicious dream. There is no way this could be real. 

You could feel him pressing up against your backside through your clothes and you swallow thickly at just how big he feels. Your imagination had not prepared you for this. The fingers of his left hand dig into your hip as his lips attach to your neck, sucking and nibbling till a dark mark is left. The sound he makes after leaving his mark is proud and dammit your knees just won't stop shaking.  

"Pero," he whispers suddenly into your ear and your eyes open. You turn your head to look at him, confused. "The next time I hear you moaning my name, I want it to be my proper name." His eyes were so dark and lust blown, they caught you so off guard that you almost didn't put two and two together. 

"N...next time? What do you mean next-." You cut yourself off as you freeze in realization. "Oh my God...you...you heard what I was...earlier you heard..." Pero smirks wickedly and nods. 

"You should really close your door, hermossa, if you don't want to be heard." His hand that had been resting on the bar comes up to turn your head just a little more, gripping your chin to bring your lips to his in a firm kiss that you quickly find yourself melting into. For as gruff as he sounded, Pero's lips were so damn soft. You crane your neck to press deeper into the kiss, drinking him in as much as humanly possible as you press your backside against him. He growls into the kiss as you grind against him, his hand letting go of your chin to run his fingers down your body, slipping under the hem of your tank top. Goosebumps break out along your skin the feeling of his calloused fingertips running along the skin of your stomach. In a sudden moment of boldness, you grab his wrist and lower his hand, helping to slip his fingers under the waistband of your pants and he groans into your mouth. Taking advantage of the situation, you lick up into his mouth, desperation and a burning need tinting every single action. His tongue dances with yours as his fingers rub you through the thin fabric of your panties, drawing a whimper from your lips. 

He's the first to break the kiss, chuckling darkly against your lips. "You are a mess. Already so wet for me. Did your fantasy do me no justice to quell that ache between your legs?" All you can to do to respond is let out a high pitched whine at his lewd question, grinding down on his fingers, desperate for that delicious friction. 

"P-Pero...Please..." Your voice is a whimper as you open your eyes to look up at him, the desperation in them clear as day. He leans in, grabbing your bottom lip between his teeth for a moment, pulling back until your lip slips from between them with a gasp from you. 

"I like the sound of your voice when you beg, maravillosa." You didn't think his voice could get any lower than it was, and the sound of desire that laced his words would have hand you on the ground if he hadn't been holding on to you. His fingers slowly slip under your panties, rubbing your mound before parting your lips to coat his fingers in your slick. "So fucking wet for me." You whimper again, nodding as you cling to his arm, grinding down your hips. A jolt fires through you as he finally swirls the pad of his finger around your clit, and you let out a strangled cry, clenching your eyes closed. Pero chuckles in your ear, nibbling at the lobe before moving down your neck to suck another mark as his finger rubs the most tortuously slow circles against you. You were losing your mind and needed so much much. 

"I'll beg all you want, please, PLEASE Pero, give me more. I need more," you keen, bucking your hips against his hand. Thankfully, he obliges, slipping a finger inside of you with ease and you let out a content sigh, grinding down against his hand. He curls his finger against your walls, searching for the perfect spot that he knows will have you seeing stars. When you nearly scream, he grins against your skin, nipping at his latest mark before adding a second, then third finger, slowly thrusting them in and out of you, meeting the thrusts of your hips. The stretch of his fingers is delicious, the bump of his thumb against your clit with every thrust bringing you closer and closer as your nails dig into his arm. 

His lips trace along your ear still, and he whispers to you with that voice so low it draws a groan from your lips. "I want you to cum for me, hermossa. Cum and let me hear my name on your lips." He punctuates his demand with a nip at your ear and you lose it, coming undone around his hand. Your walls clench around his fingers as you throw your head back against his shoulder, your arousal absolutely coating his fingers as his name pours from your lips as reverent as a prayer. He coaxes you gently through your orgasm with slow thrusts before slipping his fingers from you. When he puts them in his own mouth, moaning deliciously at the taste of you on his fingers, you could swear you were about to cum again just from the erotic sight. Your hands moving on their own, you grab his wrist and pull his fingers from his mouth. Looking up at him with the most innocent eyes you can manage, you bring his fingers to your lips, taking them in your own mouth. You moan at the taste of him mixed with your own arousal, running your tongue along the digits. The light in his eyes turns absolutely feral and he spins you around, reconnecting his lips with your, one hand holding your hips to his, one hand at the base of your skull, crushing your lips to his with a passion that literally takes your breath away. Your arms wrap around his body, pulling him closer to you as you drag your nails down his back, relishing in the shiver that runs through his body as you do. 

When he breaks the kiss to trail kisses down your jaw, you let your head fall back to grant him better access, trembling in anticipation and he forces your legs apart with his knee, bringing it up to grind mercilessly against you. The whimpers he draws from you only spur him on further. 

"P-Pero I need you. Please," you beg shamelessly, all rationale replaced by the burning desire for the man who currently had you pinned to the counter. The growl against your neck goes straight to your core as Pero drops both hands to your ass, giving it a rough squeeze before hooking his hands under your thighs, hoisting them around his waist, holding you up against him. Your own arms wrap around him, tangling in the curls at the base of his neck as he turns, carrying you to his bedroom. The blood in your veins courses with such excitement that you couldn't help the giggle that bubbles out of your throat. 

Gracelessly, he tosses you on to the bed and you bounce, grinning up at him like some Cheshire cat as he strips out of his shirt. You take your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes rake up and down his figure. Taught skin covered corded muscle, something you know he worked very hard to maintain given how often he used the gym at your complex. He joins you on the bed, crawling up to you with the most intense look in his eyes. His fingers tug at the hem of your tank, tugging it up. 

"This. Off with it," he growls and you nod, nearly ripping the offending article from your body as he watches approvingly. Reaching around you, he quickly undoes the clasp of your bra, tossing it to join the discarded clothes. A hunger for you shines in his eyes as he takes you in, the intensity of his stare bringing a sudden shyness to the forefront of your mind. You shrink in on yourself, bringing your arms up to cover your chest, but he is having none of it. He takes your wrists, pulling your arms away from your chest as he looks up at you. "Hermossa, do not hide your glory from me." The gentle command sends a rush of adrenaline through your body and you nod, arms relaxing in his grasp. He lays you back, rough hands running up your arms and over your chest where he massages your breasts, pinching the nipples just hard enough to cause your back to arch off the bed before they continue down over your stomach, finally coming to rest on your hips. The feeling was better than anything your imagination could have possibly dreamt up. "How many times I have dreamt of this..." 

He leans over you to press a fierce kiss to your lips that quickly migrates along your jawline, following the line of your neck down to your chest. His stubble rubs deliciously against your skin, raising bumps along its path. Your fingers tangle in his hair, hips bucking up against him as he takes your left breast in his mouth, alternating between sucking, nibbling, and lavishing it with kisses until it borders on sore before switching to rain the same attention over the other. A whimper of longing escapes your lips and he glances up from his ministrations with a predatory grin before he trails kisses lower, over your naval and down to the hem of your pants. Greedy fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts, yanking them off with a quick motion, your panties along with them. The cool air on your core sends a shiver rocketing through your body. 

"Such a beautiful sight," he mumbles, his hands grabbing your hips firmly as he makes himself comfortable between your legs. You do your best to still the trembling in your legs, but to no avail as he runs his nose up the inside of your thigh, his warm breath sending tingles across your skin. He repeats the gesture for the other side before letting go of one of your hips to drag a finger up your dripping slit, gathering your arousal on his finger. The gasp you let out is one of the most beautiful sounds he has ever heard, and he craves more. He wants to see just how many sounds he could draw from those pretty lips of yours, but his patience is wearing thin, his self control slipping. He presses the flat of his tongue against you, licking the whole of you before spreading your lips to suck your swollen clit into his mouth, running his tongue around it in quick circles. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging on it and he groans at the feeling, his cock twitching in his sweatpants. Your hips buck against his mouth, and he lays his arm across your hips, holding you in place. 

As he continues his ministrations, begs and moans spill from your lips in an endless, nearly incoherent stream, and each time you say his name he drags his teeth lightly over your clit, sending an electric shock through your entire body. Your moans grow higher and higher in pitch until you are screaming his name, tugging harshly on his hair as you cum for him the second time, spilling over his tongue as he eagerly licks it up. He pushes himself up and off the bed, licking his lips as he watches you laying on his bed, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath from your orgasm, eyes hazy with pleasure. He quickly rids himself of his pants and smirks when he sees how your eyes widen at the sight of him. Opening his bedside table, he pulls out a condom, ripping it open with his teeth before rolling it on, hissing at the feeling before he crawls back over your body, connecting his lips to yours. The taste of yourself on his lips draws a moan from you as you pull him against you, wrapping your legs around his waist. With a bite to your bottom lip, you feel him pressing against you. You break the kiss and gaze up into his lust filled eyes with a gaze that surely rivaled his own in terms of need and want and he hesitates, watching you. You lean up, ghosting your lips across his ear and he shivers as you speak. 

"Fuck me, Pero." 

You need say no more as your words start a fire inside of him. He presses into you and your head falls back against the pillow, your jaw going slack at the stretch as he fills you. With shallow thrusts he works his way into you until he is fully seated inside of you, his own body trembling at the feeling of your heat totally encompassing him. He groans as his head falls against your neck when your walls flutter around him, the stubble and mustache tickling at your skin. 

"Te sientes como el cielo..." He mutters against your neck, your pulse racing under his lips. 

"Pero, fuck, please move. Please, I can't take this." You cry as he snaps his hips against you, lifting his face from your neck enough to watch your face contort in pleasure as he sets up a brutal pace, fucking into you hard enough to shake the bed. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging into the skin there which causes his hips to stutter for a moment before he regains his pace. Mutters in Spanish pour from his lips in the most gorgeous song you have ever heard as he ruts into you. When his hand moves to where the two of you are joined to rub aggressive circles against your overly sensitive bundle of nerves, you scream his name in a way that has his stomach tightening. 

"Won't...last..." He grunts, but all you can do is nod and cry out. His face falls against your neck again, stubble scratching at your skin. His teeth find purchase against the soft flesh of your neck and that is all you need to come tumbling over the edge. Your walls bare down on his cock and he growls against your skin, pulling you through your orgasm before his hips slam against yours, the moan of your name on his lips as his own release washes over him. He stills inside you, panting against your neck as he tries to regain his breath. Your arms hold him to you for as long as you can, worried that when he pulls away this would all disappear and you would be standing in your kitchen as if nothing had happened. 

After a few moments, he slowly slips out of you, propping himself up on his elbows over you to look over your face. His face still carried that borderline grumpy look, but the edges were softened, gentle. His fingers lift to delicately trace along your jaw and your eyes flutter at the feeling, leaning into his touch. 

"Of all the times I have imagined this very thing, nothing compares to the actual feeling of you..." You open your eyes to look up at him, your heart swelling in your chest. You open your mouth to speak, but once again find yourself at a loss for words. He gives the smallest glimpse of a smile before getting up to clean himself off, coming back to join you in bed. He gathers you into his arms, pulling the blanket over the both of you. Once again you find your ear pressed against his chest, the heartbeat strong and steady.  Your mind begins to race at the thought of what had just happened, and Pero feels you stiffen in his arms. His fingers trace lines along your spine in an attempt to soothe you, grunting in question. 

"Please don't leave..." you whisper against his chest, so quiet he isn't sure he hears you. 

"What was that?" 

"Please...please don't leave. You have a job now and you're making money and can afford your own place and I know I said this was a temporary thing till you got back on your feet but," You look up at him with watery eyes. "But I don't want you to leave...I want you to stay here, with me." He looks down at you with an unreadable face, his fingers stilling on your back. 

"Maravillosa... I would not do such a thing to you." His gruff voice was still coated in the honey warmth of his own release, and it warmed you through. "I will go nowhere, I swear to you."  At his words, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you had been holding, relaxing into his arms to let your cheek rest against his chest. 

Pero Tovar is not a soft man. He is war hardened. A man of few words. His face always borders on a scowl when he is awake, but when he looks at you, his eyes soften just a touch, the crease in his brow smoothing ever so slightly. Pero Tovar is a grumpy Spaniard, but he is your grumpy Spaniard, and that is all that mattered. 

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Translations:

gruñón : Grumpy Hermossa: Beautiful Amiga: friend Maravillosa : Marvelous or gorgeous Te sientes como el cielo... : You feel like heaven

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