#i was fighting w it for a week just trying to get his face right in every particular. the eyes the nose lips forehead everything

[milkbobatyun]

loving taehyun is like study dates in the library

pairing: non-idol!kang taehyun x non-idol!reader

genre: fluff, slight headcanon, drabble (-ish)

summary: what it’s like loving taehyun, but neither of you are idols and the only worry you have right now is surviving exam season

word count: 640

a/n: inspired by my current wave of exams that i have to complete, it's the end of the semester and the teachers have banded together to create hell for me (ㅠ﹏ㅠ) a tiny rant but WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD GIVE STUDENTS 6 EXAMS IN 2 WEEKS, WITH THE GAT (those who know will know) BEING ONE OF THEM?!?!?! anyways, to self indulge, i'll imagine that taehyun is studying w me while i try to soldier on and fight the urge to procrastinate (• ᴖ •｡ )

loving taehyun is like studying together before exams, with taehyun being your biggest supporter and best tutor.

the end of a semester spelled a great deal of exams that were coming up. in order to prepare yourself for the onslaught, you began the long and tedious work of revising for your subjects. thankfully, you had your biggest believer and best tutor to help out for you, taehyun.

the library was the perfect place to start studying. with its calm ambience, you entered your reserved study room, before setting your desk up to begin studying, while you waited for taehyun to come join you. however, only 30 minutes of studying passed before you fought a losing battle in ignoring your alluring phone, buzzing with its notifications.

out of temptation, you reached over and grabbed your phone, before getting lost in the rabbit hole called your social media apps. 

‘only 10 minutes.’ you silently promised yourself.

an hour passed, and you were still scrolling through your phone. just as you were silently giggling at a tiktok you came across, your phone was gently taken out of your grip by a familiar hand. turning around, you came face to face with deep brown boba eyes.

your face lit up, taehyun had finally come over. with a teasing look of disapproval, taehyun confiscated your phone, putting it at the further end of the table, before he sat down and took out his materials to accompany you in studying.

you tried to bargain with him into giving your phone back, but his response was adamant. study for 1 hour straight and you might be able to have your phone back as a reward.

with a sigh and pout, you agreed. yet he also compromised, offering you one of his earbuds, before connecting them to the playlist the two of you curated, shuffling the music and letting it flow through the earbuds.

20 minutes ticked by, yet when taehyun turned his head to check on you, you had your cheek resting in your hand, a look of defeat on your face. a quick glance down at the textbook in front of you told him you had gotten nowhere.

“you stuck?” he whispered quietly.

you nodded dejectedly, chewing on your lip. this was the part of the material that confused you and the reason why you had put off studying.

throwing his arm around your chair, taehyun leaned in to see the concept you were stuck on, while you took the opportunity to rest your head on his shoulder.

an exclamation of understanding informed you that he had understood the material and with simplicity and efficiency, taehyun began to explain the course to you. within minutes, you had grasped a comprehensive understanding of the coursework, better than what the teacher had tried to stuff into your brain in 3 months.

with that, the room lulled back into silence. from time to time, taehyun would check on you, who was deeply concentrated in tackling all the practice exams the teacher had given to you. unbeknownst to you, he watched with soft, love-filled eyes and small dimple smile.

a relieved sigh and satisfied stretch of your arms marked the end of your tedious session of studying. taehyun had long since finished, but he patiently waited for you to complete your work, before ceremoniously handing you back your phone.

once you caught up to all the notifications on your phone, you packed up your materials and exited the library.

taehyun steered you in the direction of the nearest convenience store, announcing that a hard day’s work of studying should be rewarded with a good, (un)healthy meal of ramen and tteokbokki. soon, it becomes engrained tradition to go out for cheese tteokbokki and ramen after a diligent day of revising.

overall, loving taehyun is 143 study dates out of 100.

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024

/ づ ♡

[britneyshakespeare]

Contour lines are hard and tedious but shading is also hard and tedious

[hotpinkstars]

WE NEED THE COMFORTT FOR THE BLIND READER FUN YOU CAN’T LEAVE US HANGING LIKE THIS?????? (can’t do angst no comfort 😔)

-> blinded mistakes - happy ending

synopsis -> your husband feels bad for the way he snapped the other day. how does he make it up to you?

a/n -> approximately 28 people have asked for a part 2. this is insane i have so many people to tag (who aren't anons, obviously) BUT THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON MY OTHER ONE OMGGGGG!!!! i love u all sm

warnings -> crying, but that's kinda all lol. this ones mostly just fluff!

w/c -> 951

-> kamisato ayato

it’s been a few days since the argument. 

ayato had been given an extension due to his circumstances, and didn’t have to worry about the ruined papers due to the kindness from the city's higher-ups who assigned him such papers in the first place. a lot of them were salvageable, too.

once he finished them, he leaned back, smiling from the stress relief. he got up, grabbed a cup of tea from the kitchen, and realized something.

you weren’t in the main room, waiting for him to leave his office so you two could spend some time together.

he then thought back about the events that took place. his chest immediately fills with regret at the words spoken to you. coincidentally, ayaka walked into the room.

“ayaka, have you seen y/n?” he hurried to his sister, who simply sighed.

“they’ve been in their room. they’ve been beating themselves up about the incident, so now they’re afriad of moving incase they bother you more,” she brushed past him. “good luck making amends. they’re incredibly hurt.”

he nodded, processing the information. he pacewalked to your shared bedroom, where he opened the door to see your sleeping form. 

he sat next to you, stroking your hair until you woke up. when you felt a hand on top of your head, you flinched a little bit.

“who’s there?” you said in a soft voice, unwilling to cause more issues by lashing out or showing aggression. 

“ayato,” he took his hand off your head. “i’ve come to say i’m sorry.”

you got up and found the headboard, slowly resting yourself up on it. “why all of the sudden? i hope you understand that you really hurt me, ayato. i’ve been too scared to get up these last few days because of the way you made me feel. the only times i’ve gotten up were to go to the restroom, bathe, and eat, but thoma would bring me something here. i still think about the words you said and your gestures.”

he looked down, sighing. he didn’t realize how much of an effect his words and actions had on you, but now that he’s hearing it from you, it seems like two more tons added to his shoulders. “don’t worry about it. it was salvageable, and you hadn’t ruined anything.”

“i wish you told me that when it happened, ayato,” you started to tear up. “i forgive you, but i don’t want to hear that again. it made me feel like shit.”

he nodded, hugging you tight, letting you cry into his shoulder. you felt around his body to realize he was wearing his white and blue suit, the one he usually goes out to fight in. 

“i’m not ruining this suit, right…?” you brought your face off his shoulder, but he immediately shoved it back in the same spot, silently telling you the obvious answer. 

he was glad he was able to resolve things. he couldn’t imagine a life without you.

-> wriothesley

it’s been about a week since wriothesley has seen you. he figured you went out of the fortress, staying over at a hotel or with a friend, like navia or chlorinde. he pretty much figured it would be chlorinde, considering she hasn’t come down to the fortress or has tried to initiate contact with him since the incident. 

he figured he’d try knocking on both doors, starting with navia. once navia told him everything he needed to know; that you were with chlorinde, he rushed over to her place.

“what are you doing here?” she scoffs as she opened the door, leaning against the doorframe. “your wife told me everything. i hope to trust that you didn’t embarrass her in front of the people who work for the palais mermonia, especially monsieur neuvillette himself.”

he shook his head, rubbing at his temples. “just let me see her, would you? i want to apologize.”

she nodded, clearing the doorway, allowing him to rush into the spare bedroom. 

you knew he was the one coming towards your room, considering his footsteps were a lot heavier than anyone you’ve ever known. his were tough, threatening. 

“wriothesley! w-what are you-” you started, your heart beating a little faster.

“i want to apologize for the things i said. i didn’t have to completely redo all my papers, and neuvillette understood the situation, and i was able to get an extent.”

you shook your head. “so you embarrassed me then, huh? you told them everything? that your stupid blind wife who is not even near good enough for you ruined your work?” 

he was speechless. he didn’t know how to respond to that sentence, so he put his hands on your shoulders, asking for silent permission to take you into a hug. once you nodded, he embraced you tightly. 

“no, i didn’t tell them that. i told him it was just a spill, and that i was able to save some of the papers. neuvillette is a very understanding man, and this never happens. i never need new copies or need extents, so he was willing to do it this time. nothing about you came up in our conversation,” he swallowed a lump in his throat before going on. “and you’re not stupid. you’re also the perfect choice for me, not good enough my ass. no matter what i have to do to make you see that, just because you have a disability doesn’t mean you’re unworthy.”

you started to cry, letting the tears spill into his chest, creating a damp spot on his tie. 

“so you don’t hate me then?” you sniffed.

“no, not at all. i couldn’t bring myself to hate you for something as dumb as that.”

[miley1442111]

saving me- s.reid

-------------------------------

-------------------------------

a/n: fem reader, but as always imagine what you like :)

summary: spencer has to save you before it's too late.

pairing: spencer reid x fem bau! reader

warnings: general cm topics, sexual assault, hostage situation, drugging, the team don't know about you and spencer, injuries, reader gets injured, reader is allergic to opioids, drugs, alergic reaction, knives, guns, reader begs to be killed, spencer shoots someone. (i think that's it, tell me if i missed anything :))

-------------------------------

Another migraine. Another fucking migraine. 

Your life was truly a joke. 

You sat beside Emily in the car, eyes heavy with pain as you profusely rubbed them, the sunlight from the sky beside you far too bright. 

“Y/l/n? Any ideas?” Morgan asked, kicking you softly under the table.

“The unsub will probably be extremely interested in the investigation but they probably won’t bring themselves into it. We’ll end up seeking them out,” you rattled off. 

“Are you alright?” Prentiss whispered. 

“Fine,” you lied. “Just tired eyes.” 

-------------------------------

Spencer’s eyes were on you from the second you’d spoken about your ‘tired eyes’. He was meant to be working up a geological profile, but his focus was completely on you. ‘Tired eyes’, you’d been wearing glasses or contacts all week, you’d been drinking enough liquids, you’d been eating, he assumed you’d slept, you'd been busy most of the week and sleeping at your own apartment instead of his. 

What could cause ‘tired eyes’?

“Reid!” Seaver all but shouted in his ear. 

“Y-yeah? Yes?” He answered, eyes focusing on the map again. 

“Is Y/l/n here?” Rossi asked. 

“W-what? No. I thought she went with Hotch and Prentiss,” he hesitated. 

“She told them she was with us,” Rossi sighed. “So then where is she?”

“I-I don’t know,” Spencer admitted. “I’ll call her.”

Rossi held up your cell phone and Spencer’s stomach dropped.

“Shit,” he cursed.

“Shit is right,” Rossi nodded. 

-------------------------------

It had been 24 hours, you were officially a missing person. You had no idea where you were, someone must’ve drugged you. That hadn’t been a regular migraine. Your head thumped with pain as you struggled against the duct tape around your hands and feet. 

“You’re one beautiful girl, aren’t you?” You could hear the smirk in his voice, feel the way he was watching you. 

You tried to scream but the duct tape around your mouth made it difficult.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” he came closer, into the light. You could see his face. He was a white male, between the ages of 35-40, dad-build, and a sick smirk. 

You didn’t fight back, you couldn’t. You didn’t even notice the camera in the corner. You didn’t know that this was being recorded, or live-streamed directly to Penelope. Penelope, who showed it to the team. To your boyfriend. 

They were watching the worst moment of your life unfold. 

And you had no idea. 

-------------------------------

“Guys,” Penelope squeaked. “This j-just came through,” she showed them her laptop and looked away, tears clouding her vision. 

“Is that-” Derek started

“Y/n,” Aaron finished for him. 

“What about her? Did you find her?” Spencer asked, staring at the group from behind Penelope. “Is she ok?”

The team’s eyes were glued to the screen as Spencer stood there, demanding an answer. 

“Guys what?!” he shouted. “Someone answer me!”

“Come here,” Seaver sighed. Spencer stood beside her and watched in horror as the unsub hurt you. 

“We have to find her,” he stated. “Now.”

-------------------------------

“Please, please just kill me,” you begged. He’d taken the tape off a while ago. “Please kill me.”

“I’m not a necrophiliac,” he laughed in your face. “I like my girls alive.”

“Fuck you,” you sobbed. Blood, dirt, tears, and sweat coating your skin. “Fuck you!”

“I’m actively trying to fuck you,” he laughed again. You hated him. You hated this. You hated everything.  

“Just kill me,” you sobbed. “Please!”

He hit you on the head and you went out again. 

-------------------------------

“FBI!” Morgan’s voice rang out through the warehouse. Spencer was hot on his heels, walking ahead of him and ignoring proper protocol. “Reid!” He ran after him. 

“FBI! Put the knife down!” Spencer shouted at the unsub holding a knife to your throat. Something had gone wrong. He scanned the room quickly. 

“I-I didn’t mean to- I was just-” The unsub stepped away, dropping the knife. “She wasn’t meant to die.”

Die. Dead. You were dead.

Spencer fired his gun without a second thought. He ran over to you and checked your pulse, there but barely. 

“Hotch I need an ambulance!” He shouted. “Y/n, baby, I need you to wake up,” he begged. “Please, please, wake up, I need you Y/n. Please.” 

“Spencer-” Prentiss started but Spencer silenced her with his own words. 

“We’re dating. We have been for a year and a half, don’t you dare tell me to ‘step away’,” he sighed. 

The paramedics rushed in, starting you on an IV. 

“She’s allergic to opioids,” Spencer rattled off. “She can’t have any opioids.”

“Spencer,” Hotch sighed. “She’s had some already,” Hotch pointed to the vials in the corner of the room and the rusty needle beside them. 

Fuck. 

-------------------------------

“So when were you planning on telling us?” Derek sighed as they all sat in the waiting room.

“I don’t know, soon-maybe?”

“A year and a half is a long time,” Emily smiled. “Congratulations.”

Spencer nodded.

“Dr. Reid?” The nurse asked. Spencer shot up and out of his seat. 

“Yes?” 

“Ms. Y/l/n is stable but she is severely hurt. Physically and... mentally. She endured hours of sexual assault and her body and mind reflect that. I suggest someone non-threatening to see her first. Maybe a woman?”

Spencer gulped and nodded. “Emily?”

“Yeah of course,” she nodded, walking behind the nurse as he led her to your room.

-------------------------------

You wanted Spencer. You needed him.

Emily walked in and tears filled your eyes. “Where’s Spencer? Is he ok?”

“He’s fine, they just thought that you’d want someone non-threatening to come in and see you first-” Emily explained. 

“Can you go grab Spencer please?” you sniffled. She smiled and nodded, then left the room. 

-------------------------------

“Spencer?” Emily called into the hall. “She wants you.”

Spencer had never walked faster in his life. 

There you were. Bruises and scratches littering your body and face. Your beautiful face. Your beautiful smile and teary eyes.

“Come here, please,” you whispered. Spencer sat at your side, your hand in his. “Thank you.”

He chuckled sadly. “For what?”

“Saving me. All the time,” you smiled softly.

-------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, challengers, the bear, the hunger games, obx+)

[tailsz]

Bungo Stray dogs Boyfriend headcannons!

NSFW INCLUDED‼️‼️

Includes: Atsuhi, Dazai, Kunikida, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Chuuya, Fydor, Sigma, Nikolai.

A/N: we are going to ignore the fact that i haven’t updated in a month…

ANYWAYS ILL SEE WHAT FANDOM IS NEXT 😝😝

—————————————————————————————————————

Atsuhi!🐯

Oh he was definitely panicking when he came to terms that he liked you😓

If you so much as grazed any of your body parts onto him he will actually die

AND NGL HE WOULD AVOID YOU??? you were left dumbfounded 😒

Dazai had to be the one spilling the tea that atsuhi likes you because atsuhi REFUSED to confess (Dazai thought teasing him would help. IT DID NOT HELP.)

Oh my god and when y’all start dating he’s even more on edge for like the first couple of weeks, it honestly concerned you

BUT ONCE HE CALMED DOWN

he is the whole package of ‘Perfect Boyfriend!’ 💐

he will literally break his BACK for you, he wants to make sure you’re happy for the rest of your life<3

So if you’re a fellow member of the ADA, he would like discreetly HINT to the others and the president that he wants to take as many missions w/ u as possible (it was BARELY discreet but it worked 😍‼️)

Y’all have matching PJ’S 😋( it’s a white and orange tiger onesies 🤭)

he made you one of those friendship bracelets with each-others initials (he has yours, and you have his<:)

The first time he tried to make you breakfast in bed, he dropped it all on you and the bed ☠️

(HE IS SO CLUMSY LIKE DUDE???)

he always comes to you when he feels one of his PTSD attacks coming

(you cuddle him for like 1-2 hours)

you can never guarantee your safety anywhere, but with you, he feel safe 24/7 <3

HE ABSOLUTELY LOVES BINGING SAPPY ROMANCE SHOWS WITH U. ESPECIALLY LOVE TRIANGLES

Y’all always fighting with who the main girl is gonna end 😒 HE IS MOSTLY ALWAYS RIGHT TOO

y’all split paper work up! WHICH MAKES YALL SUPER PRODUCTIVE (y’all come in second to kunikida that man does NOT play 😓)

he loves holding your wrist insted of ur hand when walking (he’s autistic idk man)

NSFW!!

Oh boy he is a submissive top😓

Like he’s always trying to pleasure you sexually or not

BUT WHAT GETS HIM HELLA TURNED ON.

is when you dominated him and order him around while he’s doing so 👏

i want to say he’s pretty vanilla BUT HE IS NOT AGAINST USING TOYS.

this one time you convinced him to wear a toy in public 🤭

it actually gave him a heart attack when anyone would talk to him bc you would turn it out and let me tell u rn. HE IS LOUD.

while nobody else noticed.. DAZAI DID .N HE NEVER LET HIM LIVE IT DOWN.

dazai always brings THAT up when atsuhi refuses to do his paperwork 😓

he likes it when you sit on his face 🤭 he doesn’t need oxygen wdym

HE LOVES REVERSE COWGIRL

MY GOD DOES HE LOVE THIGH HIGHS‼️‼️

god the moment he sees you wearing them he’s BEGGING you to let him touch n taste you 🗣️

HE LEAVES SO MANY BITE MARKS ON YOUR THIGHS 🙏🙏🙏

he is absolutely into overstimulation

he TRIES to hide his kinks but like. HE IS SUCH A CLUTS AND A BAD LIAR 🔥

his aftercare is the best ! he brings u some sweets, cleans u up, and puts on a trashy movie to watch !

HE IS A THIGH MAN ‼️

—————————————————————————————————————

DAZAI‼️❤️‍🩹

oh jesus christ okay um.

for you to enter a relationship with osamu in his ADA era. YOU WOULDVE TO HAVE KNOWN HIS SINCE HIS DARK ERA.

We all know osamu is. a womanizer so THATS PART OF THE REASON

the main reason is because you 2 are traumatized teenagers who found comfort in eachother 😓

but anyways he asked u out in the most . RANDOM-EST WAYS EVER??

HE ASKED U OUT WHEN YALL GOT INTO THE ADA 😓

he asked u out in morse code. U WERE SCARED AT FIRST BC YOU THOUGHT YALL WE’RE BEING FOLLOWED (he grabbed ur hand and squeezed out morse code to clarify)

so u asked him to repeat it again and

you just stopped walking, and in morse code asked if he was being serious HE WAS‼️‼️

honestly. YALL ARE THAT COUPLE THAT CHECK PPL OUT?? YK WHAT I MEAN

like y’all could be walking and this fine ass man walks past y’all AND YOU BOTH TURN YOUR NECK TO LOOK

YALL GET SO SILLY WHEN YOU DO

a couple should never shame the fact that people are hot 😓

ERM U GOT HIM INTO SKIN CARE

well actually he just likes it bc he makes u do it for him 😒

U GUYS PLAY FIGHT A LOT , AS IN INSULTS NOT PHYSICALLY (y’all have to calm down the office bc they think y’all r being fr 😓)

oh em gee , date nights for y’all is just. Buying like 2 bottles of whiskey or vodka and drink it ALLL in your shared apartment ‼️

U CANNOT KEEP A SECRET FROM HIM ITS SO ANNOYING

u TRIED to make him a surprise birthday party BUT NOOOOO (asshole smh 😒)

after a certain point, he lets u help him change his bandages <3 for once in his life, he can put trust in someone like this :D

… YALL LISTEN TO THE WEEKEND RELIGIOUSLY ‼️‼️‼️‼️

NSFW!!

HE IS A DOMINANT SWITCH ‼️‼️

it doesn’t matter if he’s being the top it bottom. HE IS GOING TO BE IN CHARGE NO MATTER WHAT

he is SO MEAN

oh he will 100% humiliate and mock u during the whole thing

he has. LONG AND I MEAN LONGGGG ASS FINGERS. ( he likes to finger you before fucking you 🤭🤭)

CERTIFIED ORGASM DENIER⁉️

he will deny your orgasm because he can. NO REASON WHATSOEVER HE IS A JACKASS

HE LIKES MISSIONARY . he LOVES to see your fucked out face 😓

he is very much into public sex/ teasing

this one time when he actually came into a meeting, you being the genius you are.. started to rub his dick with your shoe under the table 😍🙏

you were so smug about the fact that after the meeting you left him alone

yea you weren’t so smug when he dragged you to a bathroom and fucked your brains out 😓

HE LIKES IT WHEN U PULL HIS HAIR

he isn’t that loud little grunts here in there but. HE WILL DO IT IN YOUR EAR🙏🙏

oh he leaves SO MANY HICKEYS ON UR NECK⁉️ u don’t have enough time to cover them so u just . HAVE TO SUCK IT UP N GO TO WORK LIKE THAT☹️

yosano gave u the side eye with a wink 😚

his aftercare is kinda. shit..

U HAVE TO DO IT 😓😓 but that’s ok ig knowing him this long, it’s not that surprising (he appreciates u doing it <3)

kunikida 👨‍🏫

ERM SO YOU LIKED HIM FIRST RIGHT

But the things is , you barely met his standards in his notebook HE DIDNT TELL U THAT BUT HE WAS A LITTLE CONFLICTED ON WHAT TO DO.

so he went to dazai …… DAZAI SET YALL UP ON A DATE BC HES THE BEST WINGMAN 💪

he honestly had a wonderful time on the date and said SCREW my notebook (for the first time in his life 😓)

he can and will switch from boyfriend to parent at you ☹️

like let’s say your life isn’t rlly great

HE WILL SWITCH IT UP FOR U SO ??? EFFECTIVELY???

he lets u braid his hair SOMETIMES 😒

you asked him one time if y’all could match nail colors (not acrylics they’re not the best for the job)

YALL ROCKED THAT PRETTY OCEAN BLUE NAIL COLOR FOR A MONTH ‼️‼️ 💅

after u taught him the basics of makeup, HE LOVES DOING YOURS

(he actually got better than u… ur a little salty..)

he liked it when u give him forehead kisses :D

he shames u for watching trashy TV BUT THE SECOND HE SEES 90 day marriage he BINGES IT WITH U (i forgot the actual name)

NSFW!!

ok let’s be for real.

this man is a dominant top 🙏

like in the battle feild, he likes being in control, when your on his bed, he likes being in control

when u act like a brat insted of punishing u by fucking u in whatever way (edging or spanking)

HE WILL REFUSED TO TOUCH U

like he’ll get u all hot (and wet) JUST for him not to touch u

him being taunted by a man child at work (dazai) he very much knows how to deal with them

he likes it when u pull on his pony tail 🤭🤭

he’s not THAT kinky however he does have a red rope under his bedddddd..

HE LOVES TITS MAN LIKE 😓😓

no matter how big, he will leave so many bite marks on them 🤭

he likes bending you over a desk/bed when he fucks you 😓

he is very sweet when fucking you, showering you in praises ‼️‼️

however he can last a very LONG time so get ready for that overstimulation !!

His aftercare is pretty standard! he runs a shower for the 2 of u so y’all can be all cute and sentimental <3

HE IS A TITS GUY (duh)‼️‼️‼️

—————————————————————

Ranpo🍩 (if ykyk)

OK SO YALLS CASE IS

you fell first, but he feel harder <3

Because cmon. U cannot keep a secret from this man for the life of you😒

like he deducted that you had feelings for him

and that got him thinking, but this thinking lasted for a while so HE KEPT ON THINKING ABOUT YOU

and at some point yosano asked if he was ok , and he was like “no… i’m in LOVE??? YUCK”

you feel in love with a man child 😓😓

he confessed to u… IN THE MIDDLE OF A MURDER CASE YALL WERE WORKING ON….

NOW ONTO THE ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP

you guys are so unserious YALL ANNOY THE SHIT OUT OF EVERYONE 😓😓 (y’all know when u need to be serious tho dw !)

u guys pull daily pranks of the agency NOT ON DAZAI THAT WHORE KNOWS 😒😒

he doodles on your hand when he’s hella bored 🤭

speaking of which !

you guys have a LOT of drawing contest 😋

DAWG YALL HIT UP THE CANDY STORE LIKE EVERY FRIDAY (you’re on ur way to be diabetic 😓😓)

HE IS A BLANKET HOGGER.

not only that he moves a lot while asleep WHICH U DO TOO

It’s a gamble to see who’ll wake up on the floor 🤷🏽‍♀️

shit talking is a must EVERY time y’all go out to eat ‼️‼️

YOU GUYS HAVE MATCHING BEANIES or whatever his hat is called (it was his idea 😋) u guys r so silly

SPEAKING OF SILLY…

y’all play roblox… U GUYS BULLY N SCAM LIL KIDS 😓😓 (ONLY UR ACC GOT BANNED BTW AND NOT HIS??? u were pissed 😒)

u gotta strap him down to drink water and eat at LEAST of fruits bc oh my god???

bro does not have the most healthiest diet but yk what thats ok be REAL

NSFW!!

he’s a dominant switch leaning more to bottoming..⁉️

and we ALL know why

U NEED TO PLEASE THE GREATEST DETECTIVE IN THE WORLD DUH 🙏

he makes u please him FIRST before he even THINKS on laying a finger on you

oh but he knows what buttons to push to fluster you, get you in the mood, and how to get you even more hot and bothered 🤭

he has collar for u <3

MIRROR SEX 😓 he wants to make sure YOU see how stupid u get 💅

oh y’all 100% have sex in public, not for the thrill because he knows y’all won’t get caught

NO BECAUSE THIS GUY IS CLINGY AND NEEDY AS HELL😓

his sex drive is pretty high so YOURE IN FOR IT ALL (well he’s in you 🏃🏽‍♀️)

he is. SO. GOOD WITH HIS TOUNGE.

he eats you out like 4 times a week AND WHEN HE DOES

He can AND WILL make u come more than 1 time

HE WILL HUMILIATE U <33

100% overstimulates you by making YOU pleasure him (giving head , riding etc)

y’all split aftercare because god forbid he pampers you 😒 (he will if he knows it bothers you <33)

yall have a bath bubble bath after with rubber duckies 😋

50/50 chance yall fuck again 😓

HE IS A THIGH MAN.

Akutagawa🌑

ok so..😦

you guys met around the same time when u both got recruited by dark era dazai 😓😓

meaning well, dazai also trained you 🧍🏽‍♀️

it took him a while to trust you bc well having a horrid childhood PLUS having a very psychotic man training u in the mafia does something to u!

u would take care of each others wounds when needed too..<3

he confessed a little after dazai left the mafia

he wrote u a very straight forward note to meet up somewhere because he’s taking u out 🤗

(ik sounds hella delulu but if aku rlly does loves u, i feel like he would have a soft spot for u and would have no shame to show it to u and ONLY u :D)

y’all stargazed that night and swore to have each others back (that’s his way of saying ily <3)

onto the actual relationship!

he would absolutely rather DIE than do PDA

y’all train together and he does NOT go easy on you 😓

regardless on how he asked u out, that does not mean he changed his personality

he can and WILL be a dick to u , but that’s ok bc u fight back that’s kinda y’all’s thing 💅

you guys get up really early in the morning so, before work, y’all go to the same breakfast place every single day :D

u got along with Gin, and that was something he was hoping for u

when u guys are alone walking to a destination of a mission, we will hold ur pinkie <3

y’all talk in morse code a lot, whether y’all blink or tap ! (it’s mostly to make sure the other is ok)

it’s painfully obvious that he cannot express his feelings when he’s feeling like shit , so he does lash at you

you however, manage the situation perfectly , you do not blame him because you and him KNOW what he’s been through

however you tell him every time that u are not at fault to the reason he’s upset.

he grumbles an apology, while u smile warmly:D

as an apology he’s, a LESSER pain in the ass <3

No nsfw for aku, i HC that he is asexual !

—————————————————————

CHUUYA🎃

ok ok so 🏃🏽‍♀️

when chuuya got recruited into the mafia, you were already a subordinate to Kouyou

(you had recently joined too!)

You wielded a katana that supported your ability to the max which is why u we’re out under kouyou!

when you first lay eyes on him , you were infatuated (he is so pretty..)

though he barely trusted the mafia at the time, so it took him a while to fully trust you

and boy when he did

he never left your side<3

as you guys went up the ranks, Mori thought it would be best to have u as chuuyas right hand woman when he became executive (after dazai left anyway)

meaning.. YALL SPENT HELLA TIME TOGETHER….

he honestly was in denial about his feelings towards because the thought of another potential betrayal, especially from you?

so it took a while to confess, to the point where kouyou noticed and they had MANY talks abt it

enough to get him confidence and or reassurance

he asked u out in the most romantic way possible ‼️‼️‼️

he first of all took u out to dinner (which was a regular occurrence so u thought nothing of it)

HE PULL OUT A BIG ASS BOQUET OF FLOWERS WHILE U WERE CHEWING ON UR FOOD N ASKED 😦😦

ANYWAYS MOVING ONTO THE ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP

he is so??? fucking amazing???

his love language is buying you EXPENSIVE SHIT😨😨 (u don’t complain)

he wont do PDA bc like.. he doesn’t wants y’all business be shown to everyone

HOWEVER HE WILL BE ALLLL OVER U IF HES JELOUS ☠️ (this applies when osamu was still in the mafia, he would get hella touchy w/ u to piss chuuya off)

u make him carry u using his ability ‼️‼️

MATCHING WATCHES 🤭

y’all have arguments every now and then bc y’all have a very short temper ☠️

(y’all still apologize to eachother tho 😋 UNLESS THE FIGHT GETS YALL HELLA PETTY ☠️☠️)

every single time y’all fight and his and your subordinates witness it all ??

they all think “This again?”

u like sleeping LITERALLY on top of him HE DOESNT REALLY APPRECIATE NOT BEING ABLE TO BREATHE 😍😍

he lets u do his hair a lot 🙏🙏

SELF CARE NIGHTS R A MUST

if u don’t do it , he WILL get u into it

NSFW!!

he is a dominant switch babes..

no matter if he’s the one receiving or giving? he is the one ordering you around

he is so into BDSM

ik this is like stereotypical of him BUT.

the idea of red wine lingerie on you will make him bust on the spot.

MIRROR SEX🏃🏽‍♀️‼️

he loves calling you his little slut 😝

HAIR PULLING

and HELLA BITTING 🤯 (get it cuz he’s a vampire ha ha ha!!! /j)

contrary to popular belief, i think he’s into the risk of public sex

this. ONE. TIME. he was fingering you while yall were in a meeting..

GOD KNOWS HOW MORI DIDNT NOTICE BECAUSE IF HE DID.☠️

but you know who did? KOUYOU. she gave y’all the nastiest side eye and was left flabbergasted (HER TWO KIDS ARE DOING SUCH INDECENT SHIT???)

he absolutely loves it when you initiate the foreplay

he will ALSO make you deep throat him 😣

… gun kink..? 😞

he likes licking you ??? he’s cat i swear

THIGH MAN OH MY GOD

he CANNOT keep his hands off them..

he does the thing where he’s driving and his free hand is on your thigh

that’s like how 99.9% car sex happenes btw!

AFTER CARE 10/10

he runs you a bath

HE DRESSES YOU UP

he SETTELES YOU IN BED?

treats you like a god damn princess ‼️‼️

—————————————————————

FYDOR 🐀

erm ok so first

you gotta be a little delusional ok

because i have a feeling that if it were cannon him.. he would only be with you for his own entertainment so…

WE ARE GOING TO BE DELUSIONAL AND PRETEND THATS NOT THE CASE 😍‼️‼️

ok so…

you got recruited to the DOA by nikolai because he just found you loosing control of your ability??? (real y/n moment ‼️‼️)

he thought you were silly enough SO HE DRAGGED U ALONG

He did get a scolding by fydor for bringing a random stranger to their HQ? (what even is their building called ☠️)

he thought since you were already there… to get a good read at you and found you fascinating to say the least

He saw a TINT of innocence with.. rage?? he absolutely loved it

but then.. the more he “hung out” with you.. he started feeling this weird thing in his chest every time you popped into his mind..

he immediately knew what it is was and

he started avoiding you

because love isn’t something he needs right now

bros trying to take over the world and purify it not.. this.

the more he thought about it , his mind came up with the excuse that .. maybe your love can empower him..

AND HE BAUGHT IT

he asked you out so straight forward???

like y’all were in the middle of drinking tea and he just said “Would you like to take my hand in a relationship?”

and you spat out your tea and he did NOT repeat himself 😒

ONTO THE ACTUAL BF HC…

just because he loves and would set the world on fire for you… he still has high standards for you as a member of the DOA

he also likes to challenge you intellectually so you could (not rlly BUT STILL) keep up with him!

it actually has helped you tho! 

you guys have this little tradition of writting silly poems for eachother

it’s impossible to trick this man so.. you make him look for YOUR poems 😋 (the effort is there!)

he actually knows how to do makeup so he does yours on a regular basis! (it’s like between a casual goth look)

if you don’t have the same beliefs as him, he still appreciates the thought of you helping and supporting him

in one of his battles with the ADA, you were his trump card, dazai was left flabbergasted tbh

though he’s not high maintenance, he loves LOVES holding ur hand :D

y’all own a black kitty his name is Nova!

HES THE BEST CUDDLIER

oh my god he cannot stand when you give someone else attention

like he won’t say it outloud but like..

it lowkey pisses him off when you do

he can be a peace of shit to you

the thing that he likes tho is that u don’t let him walk over you ‼️

NSFW!!

2 words.

Dominant

bottom (maybe he’ll top u like once a month..)

HE AN ANEMIC MAN HE BARELY HAS THE ENERGY TO SURVIVE THE DAY.

but oh boy his personality…

erm! reverse cowgirl is his go to position..

HE MAKES U SUCK HIM OFF BEFORE ANYTHING THO..

honestly you have no problem with this

the sight of him whimpering under your touch MY GODDD 😝😝

he will absolutely never outright admit that you make him feel good 😒

THE ONCE IN A LIFETIMES WHERE HE TOPS YOU

it’s wild.

he doesn’t need to go rough on you because he has your body memorized like the back of his hand

he KNOWS what spots to abuse 😓

i honestly think he’s a tit guy

he knows that he loves the thought of you fucking him up BUT HE WANTS U TO TAKE INITIATIVE🤨

pick up context clues babes

his aftercare is actually pretty great but it doesn’t invole you getting out of bed just tons of cuddles and praises <3

—————————————————————

Nikolai 🤡

he would 100% prefer a high-maintenance partner to keep up with his silly doings yk?

so in this case.. sigma “recruited” you to the DOA (with fydors approval in advance)

YALL WERE IN SYNC ASAP⁉️⁉️

you guys play pranks on everyone except fydor bc he SUCKS smh…😒

HE JUMPSCARES U A LOT WITH HIS COAT☠️

at the start of y’all’s friendship he said “oh who said a guy and a girl can’t be the best of buds and nothing more!”

well..! that didn’t age well

y’all are the “You fell first but he feel harder”

i would like to say niko was oblivious to your feelings because everything you guys do are jokes…

he never thought anything you 2 did was serious

so.. apologies for the delay!

honestly it was fydor who told him

though he does not care of y’all’s love life.. niko was pushing his buttons that day and Fedya thought that was the best way to shut him up

and it worked

he was a lil flabbergasted 😦

when he REALLLYYY thought about it… he enjoyed the thought of you 2 being something more..

SO HE ASKED YOU OUT IN THE MOST NIKOLAI WAY :D

he gave you 2 bouquets of flowers 💐!!

though one was poisoned and you had to figure out which one wasn’t by a time limit… (YOU GOT IT LIKE A MINUTE BEFORE THO‼️)

and then he confessed and y’all lived happily ever after :D

…..

the day that fedya told niko that you liked him.. WAS THE REASON WHY FEDYA WANTS TO KHS.

if he thought that the 2 of u were annoying before?

JESUS CHRIST MULTIPLY IT BY 10☠️

he cannot go a day without physically holding you

whether it’s your hand , arm , leg thighs anything (he’s touch starved)

MATCHING OUTFITS R A MUST

he whines to fydor when he doesn’t pair y’all up for a mission

while fedya and dazai were in prison yall procrastinated on your current mission… YALL GOT IT DONE LAST MINUTE THO😓😓

Dawg leaves you no room in the bed he spreads out to much AND he’s a blanket hogger🤨

neither of you can cook

SO U MAKE SIGMA COOK FOR YOU😍‼️‼️

very rarely gets emotional with you, but when he does?

those are the moments you 2 are thankful you found eachother <3

NSFW!!

he’s very high maintenance so…

he’s a dominant top ‼️

public sex is something the 2 of you do on a daily basis

very VERY high sex drive

y’all’s first time you told him to go slow because you’ve never done anything like this b4 and he did..!

the second you told him to go a little faster..

DAWG HE WENT ALL OUT (at the time it lowkey hurt BUT I FELT SO GOOD??)

fedya gives y’all the nastiest look when y’all come out of the bathroom…

he loves sending you videos of his print 👏👏👏

he knows you love his hands so he fingers you a lot

speaking of which.. HE EDGES YOU ALOT

he does it for no reason what so ever like at all..

he thinks it’s funny ☹️

HE LIKES IT WHEN YOU ACT LIKE A BRAT 😍‼️‼️

like sex is a silly game between y’all

(he knows it’s game you can’t win)

honestly he has a size kink 🤷🏽‍♀️

AND AND wax play‼️‼️

he likes teasing you and then just leaving u alone for the rest of the day 😒😒

HE LOVES GRIPPING YOUR WAIST WHILE FUCKING U FROM BEHIND

erm his aftercare is average he cleans you up and bring you water and y’all fall asleep pretty quickly

honestly i think he’s a tit guy!

—————————————————————

SIGMA 🎶

erm ok so nikolai also recruited u here! (im so original!!)

for starters he already liked you sense of fashion

like a victorian era type 😜

he noticed how you always had your headphones in.. but when he talked to you.. you took them off

maybe he was reading too much into it but it made his heart flutter

you spent most of your time in his casino, so you give had tons of time to bond

he honestly enjoyed the times where you’d share headphones (he LOVESS your playlist)

honestly niko kept teasing him abt you and no matter how many times he tried to confess he couldn’t

well face to face anyway.. he wrote u a cute silly poem >w•

both of y’all’s love language is quality time

honestly fydor doesn’t exactly hate y’all together so that’s something!

late night walks is a daily routine yall do almost every day

he loves doing your makeup AND hair ‼️‼️‼️🫶

yall do eachothers nails all the time😋

OO EVERY FRIDAY IS A MOVIE NIGHT

every other day y’all go to this little coffee shop in the morning b4 dealing with a chaotic day

you are a night owl while she’s an early morning person

y’all take baths together all the time <33

y’all have the ENTIRE lego flower collection ‼️‼️

that’s literally the main reason nikolai is not allowed NEAR your shared appointment 😓😓

NSFW!!

cmon..

this man. WITH HIS SLUTTY WAIST.

is a submissive bottom 🤷🏽‍♀️

originally he thought “ofc im going to take the role of being on top because-“

the moment you practically pinned him .. you awoken something in him😨

HE LOVES LOVES LOVESSS being dominated so bad it’s concerning

he doesn’t HATE it when you take things slow.. but jesus christ when you go rough on him?

he nuts in the spot 🤷🏽‍♀️

he likes it when you pull on his hair ‼️

he’s into BDSM (it’s always the quiet ones)

he has a smile sex drive so honestly it’s up to you! he doesn’t mind tbh 🗣️

he loves it when you play music while y’all have sex 🎶🎶

erm nikolai can’t KNOCK A FUCKING DOOR SO HE JUST WALKED INTO YOUR HOME AND SAW YOU RIDING SIGMA.

he never ever let him live it down

this one time you made him wear a toy on his dick and though he will deny it..

it was one of the best days of his ENTIRE LIFE🤭🤭

he also likes the excitement of being blindfolded

his favorite place to have sex in is the living room IDK WHY🤨

mostly it’s you doing the aftercare which he rates a 5 stars! 🫶🫶

———————————

OKAY THATS IT!! again ik it’s been a month.. ILL TRY TO POST MORE FREQUENT!

[velvetures]

omg I luv ur writing!!! is it possible to get a story thats like, ghost (or whomever) is stretching and training together but there’s alotttt of sexual tension, and ghost ends up hard and they notice it bc of the position they’re in? (Like he’s restraining reader and his bulge is right in their face😭)

Tension

A/N: I went kinda wild with this one... please excuse my filth. :)

Summary: You've always driven Ghost just short of losing his self-control. Some peeping, close combat training, and seeing you do yoga eventually snaps the fine line warding off the Lieutenant.

T/W's: NS/FW 18+ ONLY, fem reader, rough sex, overstimulation, tension, inappropriate horniness, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex/creampie (don't do that IRL), fingering, multiple orgasms, standing missionary?, a hint of rushed consent, big feelings, manhandling ofc, and I don't proofread well.

Ghost had watched your late-night training routine many times. A bit of a jog to get warmed up, some plyometrics on one of the mats, and then some light weights. It would leave you in a glittering sheen of sweat under the dim lights; jewel-encrusted as you’d wait until the last hour of your workout to pull out headphones and start doing yoga.

After looking up some of the things you did, the Lieutenant knew enough about it to understand that it wasn’t just some bullshit thing you felt worked. It held some actual merit on plenty of applicable skills. And fuck did you make it look good. From the simple stuff like laying on your back and just breathing, to the more mind-bending positions like the *Sirsa Padasana -*one of those Ghost needed to know the name of- after watching you stay almost entirely still like that for five minutes. He’d seen a lot of the different ways soldiers practiced not only strengthening their bodies but their minds while training. And the way you spent so much time in yoga practice… he felt like there wasn’t any question as to how you had such control over yourself in the field.

In the beginning, Ghost found himself unable to interrupt your… sessions? for the unfounded reason that his presence huffing and groaning while running or lifting would interrupt whatever silence or isolation you preferred. At least, the silence he assumed you wanted since he never saw you in the gym when the sun was still visible. Instead, he’d just come to the edge of the windows and peek to see if you were still there; Deciding how close you were to finishing up before going back to his quarters and waiting until he heard the sounds of your footsteps walking past his door. But he’d been caught after a while.

And it opened up and entirely different kind of training that Ghost wasn’t prepared for.

You had been more than happy to share the gym with him, almost begging that he join since you never had “company” this late at night. Not that his “company” was much more than his body just being in the same room, but it never failed him to see just how utterly calm you were at the thought of him lingering around you. Most people flinched or shied away, but you never did, and even when you twisted yourself into the most ridiculous looking shapes and put yourself into vulnerable positions, it didn’t effect you at all that he could walk right by you or possibly be watching.

He was always watching.

It made hand-to-hand combat drills more interesting too.

Gaz had been partnered up with you initially, seeing as he could be the most patient and actually give you clear pointers without sounding too harsh. He’d been quite happy with your progress over the span of a few months, and quickly gave Ghost a task that became his most challenging mission to date. Teaching you how to fight without losing his own mind being that fucking close to you for nearly two hours multiple times a week. As if personally viewing your workouts late at night wasn’t bad enough, he actually got to feel just how much the yoga strengthened you when he had to grapple your little body and try to pin you down. Teaching you to block fists without seeing them coming, locking knees with opponents three-times your size, avoiding handcuffs, knives, and other non-projection weapons came with a cost.

Ghost wouldn’t really be focused on your techniques or reaction time nearly as much as he’d be concerned about the way your hips ended up flush with his, or just how easy it was for him to just slip one arm between your thighs and effortlessly manhandle you onto the mats. It was hard keeping a clear head when you just made fighting feel a lot more like aggressive foreplay. Hell, you sounded a lot more like you were being fucked too. Nothing but little grunts and groans when he’d secure one arm behind your back, or little pants as you fought off his punches and forward drives to kick one of your feet out from under you. s

“Don’t let me holding anything in your house I your legs,” He felt himself growling out the order as you fought underneath him to pull your legs free from between his thighs.

“If I pin you, you’re dead.” The words were harsh… and it’s why everyone thought Gaz would be a better fit.

But that hadn’t been enough, and now here he was, half-sweating and half-hard, trying to make sure his cock didn’t brush up against you long enough for you to notice that you were playing more than just one game with him. While your strength didn’t match his own, it was your flexibility that made you competent enough to have even been thought to be put into a spar with him. You could twist yourself up and out of spaces most grown men would never think about, and it did give Ghost a bit more challenge trying to combat how hand-placements knowing you were about as slippery as fucking water. And without attempting a conventional tactic, you’d gotten yourself free of his legs and wrapped back around his back with one leg and an arm pulled in a headlock.

Ghost gave a frustrated sigh, feeling his air supply being hindered but not actually cut off. You’d misjudged his windpipe -probably due to the mask- and tightened down less than an inch away from perfect. It was a good counter move, but not lethal. And that was unacceptable. Hardly any force was needed to pry your arms from around your leg and literally throw you belly-down onto the mat, both arms pulled tight behind your back with his legs pinning yours down securely. You wiggled and jerked against him, ass brushing the base of his ever-present erection, and it forced him to let you go. For nothing more than the safety of his own pride and insurance that you would go another day without your Lieutenant’s perverse thoughts becoming known.

“I thought I had you that time,” You pant, coming up to sit on your knees across from him with a frustrated look pinching your eyebrows. “What did I do wrong?”

He had to give you credit, you were so damn teachable. Always asking questions and stopping in the middle of a fight to expect some kind of explanation instead of just learning through trial and error. Naturally, he’d been partial to ignoring you at first but when you wouldn’t engage after asking a question until he said something, he realized that there was no use. So, he did what he could do best. Teach by example.

Slow… example.

“Come here,” You got back up to your socked feet and walked right up to him, sweat clinging to the tip of your nose and dripping down the side of your neck. He had the insatiable urge to rip his mask up and lick that bead from your collarbone to the pulse point jumping under your skin.

With one hand he turned you around, your shoulders tight to his upper stomach and placed his forearm against your throat in the same way you’d done just a moment ago. It made things hard since his arm hardly fit in the gap to begin with, but he could feel you swallow easily, letting him know he’d found the correct angle.

“Your arm hit off to the side,” He tightened down just a little, feeling your body tense up as he began putting pressure over you. “When it should’ve been straight.” With the smallest adjustment, his left hand palmed the top of your head, holding you still while the bulk of his muscled, right forearm pressed flush against the right side of your throat, and his massive bicep flexing to apply pressure to the other side; forcing a hissing sound from your mouth.

Your little hands came up to grip his arms, not exactly pulling him away or fighting the pressure. Both hands curling around his And while he knew he shouldn’t actively be testing just how long you could go before passing out, Ghost found himself waiting patiently just to see what would happen under the stress. There for a split second, your muscles suddenly went slack and he honestly thought you’d already lost enough oxygen to faint. But when your fingers still pressing against the veins in his arm started slowly moving in a little wave of tapping motions, he was proved wrong.

Right away he remembered seeing you do it before. In the times your yoga practice was a little less than comfortable or you were actively trying to push yourself further than you’d gone before. Something like a little tell, or coping mechanism that allowed you to focus without exerting too much energy to something else outside of the main stimulus. Another little thing you did that Ghost found so much more interesting and downright strange about you. How clever you were doing things differently than everyone else.

“Alright, enough,” He let go and pushed his hand in the gap of your shoulders to put some pace between you.

You stumbled forwards, taking a gasp of breath and turning around to Ghost with a heavy flush settling in your cheeks and a bloodshot tint in the whites of your eyes. You brought a hand up to your neck where a faint outline of his own arm had pressed into you, your fingertips tracing the outline with a little bit of an embarrassed smile on your face.

“Any reason you didn’t fight back?” He questioned, flattening out his tone and looking at you with a pointed glare.

You shrug, looking down at the floor for a moment. “I… was trying to feel it. The pressure I mean, and see if I could resist you.”

Ghost rolled his eyes, trying to keep from barking out a laugh. He’d not even used his actual strength to apply pressure. It was nothing more than the literal bulk of his arm just fit against your throat. Hearing you think otherwise gave the Lieutenant a deep stroke to his ego, even giving his half-hard cock a good wave of stimulation as well. He couldn’t find it in himself to not give you correction though.

“You couldn’t resist it, kid.”

“Excuse me?” The offense you took surprised him. Ghost took a couple steps closer to you, settling his hands on his hips.

“You. Couldn’t. Stop. Me.” He punctuated his words with a flat, and uninterested tone to mask the sudden intrigue he had after actually managing to keep the thundering beat of his heart under control.

You, with your calm demeanor. Patience beyond humanity. Body from his own wet dreams… A better man would’ve known how to stay away from you and ignore the desires to bend you to his own will. A good man would be like Gaz. Train you with only your best interests in mind. Develop your weaknesses without thinking of all the ways he could use them against you in the most twisted and deprived ways. Learn your body and train it to be even more dangerous than it already was. Not spend every second during sparring using it as an opportunity to have you under him or wrapped up in his arms so tight you couldn’t get away.

“Looks like you can’t stop yourself, L.T.,” You answer with a confidence and direct stare directly at his belt.

The remembrance of his cock straining against his pants became much more significant that his own comfort and control in that moment. Halting all thoughts aside from the way your eyes swirled with unspoken questions and plenty of ideas forming that Ghost didn’t nearly have the ability to respond to. A cold rush of panic spread through his body, and he immediately turned his back to you, spitting out some kind of dismissal as soon as her could manage it.

“We’re done today, go get cleaned up.”

Later that day, you’d not seen a single glimpse of Ghost. You’d not really meant anything mean by the mention of his… excitement, while training. It was understandable, seeing as you’d both been quite close and in very vulnerable positions that could easily skew anyones mind past the straight and narrow. You’d be lying if there weren’t times that you thought about the different ways your body could be really manhandled by your Lieutenant. He was undeniably attractive with his gruff voice and often bitter character. It made Ghost who you knew, and while you knew most people wouldn’t understand, you felt comfortable and safe around him.

Even when you felt his erection pressing against you while teaching you how to defend yourself in close combat. That whole ordeal was in the forefront of your mind in such a significant way that even Soap noticed it while you were putting together some dinner for the pair of you. Nothing special, just some pasta and chicken, but you’d nearly boiled over the pot of spaghetti twice now, and the Sergeant wasn’t so oblivious to not notice.

“You good?” He nudged you, taking the spoon from your hand and scooting you out of the way politely as to take over the cooking while you had such a hard time focusing. You’re slow to respond, still a little stuck trying to sort through your own feelings and the attempts to sort through what had happened, if it was your fault, and how in hell you were going to try and make an apology for overstepping bounds.

“Um… I have a question,” You speak up, wrapping your arms around yourself and watching Soap stir the chicken in the skillet.

“If you were sparring with a girl… and you got hard, does that mean you’re into her?”

You felt like a high school girl gossiping with her friends about how to tell if guys were crushing on you. Such a stupid question would’ve gotten you in a lot of trouble if you’d asked anyone other than Soap. Johnny looks over at you, a smirk on his face and his eyes alight with mischief. He turns around and leans against the counter with his lower back resting there causally, glancing around the kitchen and living area to see if anyone was around before answering you.

“Well lass, I can’t be sure of nothin’ more than theory…” He rubs a hand over the short and scratchy stubble growing out on his cheek. “But, if I really liked her, yeah… I’d probably get a little excited doin’ somethin’ like that.”

The topic falls into a somewhat comfortable silence after that; Allowing you to eat you dinner on the couch, stewing over not just the sight of Ghost standing right in front of you, obviously turned on in some way or another as well as Soap’s -unknowing- confirmation. Therefore by the end of your pasta, after a long stint of attempting to read a book, and debating if you’d just fucked up a very important relationship within your squad, you found yourself getting changed into some comfortable clothes and heading back down to the gym.

You didn’t bother warming up with a jog, or any real kind of strength training. You needed some kind of way to focus, and yoga was the only surefire way to shut out any other thoughts. There was just enough dedication required to work through poses correctly, that after less than ten minutes of gentle flow you’d lost a lot of the edge cutting into your peace of mind over Ghost. You’d been working on extending your ability to remain in Kapila pose, and got almost two minutes over your record when you heard the door to the gym snick open, followed by heavy footsteps walking past you towards the weight rack.

It was nearly one in the morning. No one looked for a hard workout this late night other than your Lieutenant, and he was the last person you wanted to face right now. Fuck… he was the whole reason you were pushing your limits right now, nearly reaching into the painful edge of stretches just to force your breathing and mind onto the center of balance and exertion. With your face mere inches away from the ground, sweat drips off your nose onto the mat you’re sitting on and makes a quarter-sized puddle by the time you’ve finally felt like you’ve held to pose long enough. Your flow lead you into Compass pose next, beginning the opposite leg and physically guiding yourself into a position meant for nothing more than to release tension lingering in your body. It takes a while to feel your joints and tendons finally giving up to the stress in your mind, making the hold on your foot behind your head more manageable.

It’s around that time you begin hearing the sounds of squat plates clacking against each other alongside the rich and room-filling sounds of Ghost’s quiet grunts and groans. Resisting the strong desire to imagine what his legs look like, flexing under the weight of the bar. Using massive thighs and such explosive power to push the multiple hundred pounds he’s holding over his shoulders over twenty times for racking the weight. It’s all in the sounds you can’t ignore due to forgetting your headphones. Damning you to an onslaught of delicious sounds that would’ve fell on deaf ears anywhere else on base. Overshadowing the tinges of pain in your body with the commanding nature of the Lieutenant even when he wasn’t seeking it out.

You spent nearly an entire half hour trying not to put too much weight on Ghost’s presence, working at this point just to get through your flow without drawing too much attention to yourself, or giving any reason for Ghost to say anything to you. You’d not prepared anything in the way of an apology, and you couldn’t begin to formulate one with clanking metal and his suggestive sounds filling your ears. Maddening… downright sinful in nature. Enough to make any woman squirm. And fuck were you utterly terrified that you’d chosen to wear such light colored grey leggings, because if you’d move in just the right way, the dampness growing there would be painfully obvious.

In a headstand, choosing it for nothing more than your confidence in it, you’d closed your eyes and started tapping on the mat with your fingers. Picturing your own spine and tying a string to it, using that thin string to draw your vertebrae straight and tall, lengthening your entire body and deepening your breaths. You nearly fell flat on your face when you feel fingers graze the back of your knee and tease over your calf. The wiggle in your concentration stacks your weight over your head and forearms on the floor and pitches you towards the ground.

Right away, an arm wraps around your hips and swipes you off your own control and kept you from falling to the ground. Instead of hitting your mat or the concrete you had your eyes on, you feel nothing short of muscle and stocky build pressed against the entire backside of your body as Ghost holds you upside down not unlike a sack of flour or a sniper rifle. The back of your head hits against his lower leg and you grunt a little, taken by surprise and once again finding yourself at the mercy of Ghost’s strength alone. You’re about to speak up, and are cut short by the Lieutenant literally spinning you right-side up with his free arm, holding you eye-level with him.

“Distracted?” His eyebrow raises above the cut out of his -much thinner- almost athletic mask missing the trademark skull painted on it. His hand palming your ass felt like it was branding the skin under your leggings, leaving you speechless and hanging on nothing more than the sounds of his breaths hissing through the mask.

“You… you spooked me,” You mutter, one hand bracing on his shoulder and the other somewhere on his chest… you couldn’t quite gather enough spacial awareness to connect the dots. “Made me jump is all.”

Ghost chuckled, “Spooked you?” Even his tone was mocking of the ridiculous idea you knew was so full of holes, it wouldn’t hold water. “Touching you s’enough?”

Looking down at your body pressed against his; the direct contrast of your cream colored knit sweater and his tight-fitting black shirt, the embarrassingly long distance between your feet and the floor. Everything about this meeting with Ghost was so far different than when you met on level ground in the sparring room. Then, you both knew the intentions. How to work around each other and how to go about pushing the right buttons. But now… you weren’t even close to feeling like having any power, and you were certain that the Lieutenant could feel it radiating off of you.

“Maybe it is.” Replying back, you feel his fingers dig a little into the flesh of your ass a little harder.

“Maybe its not what I’ve done that’s bothering you… but what you’ve been thinking about,” He challenged you back, looking over at the mat you’d been using. “Why you came here, pushing so hard… Ignoring me.”

All the air in your lungs evacuated when he so accurately saw right through your skull and into the deep recesses of your head. Enough that you were nodding your head just enough for Ghost to let out something of and amused kind of sound. Short of real laugher, but not nearly enough to call it a breath. Either way, there was no hiding now. You admitted it right to his face, looking deep in those dark eyes with a level of intensity you had never seen from him before.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s in your little head?”

You hadn’t the slightest idea where to begin. Should you admit that you were hungry for more about his thoughts on you? Or just admit that you’d been struggling all even with the guilt of enjoying the thought of him lusting over you and having the power to call him out over it? So many ideas popped into your head, spinning it around so quickly that y the time you spit out an answer, you were already in the changing rooms in the back of the gym; Ghost carrying you towards the counter with a mirror. He sat you down on it, slotting his hips between your spread thighs and rubbing those massive hands up your thighs like he was savoring the feeling of your muscles tensing up under his touch.

“C’mon. That was an order, soldier.” He pressed, actually pinching at the creases of your thighs made all the more defined with you sitting. “D’you have somethin’ you want to ask me? About training earlier…”

You gasped softly, twitching when his fingertips traced over the indentions in your thighs marking dimples and other imperfections that you would’ve loved to go unnoticed by his wandering hands curling around your hips and back towards your ass again, sliding you flush against his chest. Forcing you to visualize the heavier rise and fall of his chest, shadows defining the valley between his pecs and the heartbreakingly gorgeous width of his shoulders caging you in. Masterfully, this man was drawing words out of you in such a confident and almost inescapable seduction. Yet the only question you’d been struggling with was answered with nothing more than the soothing voice and teasing touch of a man who had you wrapped around his finger.

“Hmm, no questions?” His head tilted a bit, seeing you so flustered over nothing than a couple little touches.

Enjoying nothing more than how you looked at him so surprised and innocent, despite knowing just how fucking turned on you were after spotting the totally soaked crotch of your leggings after approaching you during your headstand. Unable to resist you any longer, Ghost tipped your chin up a bit to meet his gaze and purposefully softened it. Wanting to ease you into this a little more, humming lowly when your pretty lips curled into a sweet smile. Letting your head rest in his hold with every ounce of trust you showed in the field and one the mats during conditioning.

“I have a question for you. Did you like it…? Seeing me standing there with a hard cock, knowing you were the sole reason for it.” He traced his finger down the bridge of your nose gently.

“How does it make you feel inside, knowing I want to feel every inch of you. Taste your screams of my name and the slick dripping out of your cunt onto those fucking leggings you’re wearing.”

“F-felt… good,” You sputter, face flaring brightly. “Liked it a lot.”

His hands kneading harshly at your ass quickly came up to the high waist of your leggings and tugged, hard. Breaking stitches and even tearing the material on one side as he pulled those skin-tight leggings off your legs; Growling deep in his chest when the sheen of your arousal spread on your skin under the florescent light. You held on to his shoulders, helping him just enough to make sure he didn’t totally ruin your bottoms.

“I knew you did,” He snarled, throwing your pants behind him and giving you a very clear smile from behind his mask. “Such a good solider, too bad she’s a dirty little slut for her Lieutenant’s cock.”

You could help the guttural moan you let out when his fingers dipped between the slick folds of your pussy and so very gently rubbed over your swollen clit. Using his hips to keep your thighs from locking his hand into place. Ghost was as calm and collected as ever, giving you an almost placating look as you squirmed and fought between the desire to back away from the sudden intense stimulation and the desire for more. His other hand held your chin steady, tutting at you like he was disappointed when you bit your lip to try and muffle the sounds of pleasure he was giving you.

“No, you’re not allowed to do that.” He pinched your clit, making you yelp loudly and squeeze your thighs against him until they shook. “You’ll sit there and let me play with you until i’m finished, okay?” Ghost actually nodded your head up and down for you. “That means I hear every fucking sound, because they’re all mine.”

You couldn’t remember how many times you came around Ghost’s fingers before the entire countertop you sat on was pooling with your cum. Feeling it stick to your skin and the wet sensation of his mask dragging over your body as he licked and bit at your skin until the pain melted into such overwhelming ecstasy that you couldn’t hold your upper body of your own strength. You’d slumped your forehead against his chest, blabbering utter nonsense and struggling to manage just how Ghost could expertly play your body to his own desires. With a swollen and exhausted cunt still clenching around his fingers, you were being lifted off the counter and up into Ghost’s arms with the hot and thick head of his dick teasing your dripping hole.

“G-Ghost… can’t take it. Can’t take more,” You groan, clawing at his shoulders and back as he gently rolls his hips just enough to give you a taste of what he was about to stretch you out with.

“Oh yeah you can…” His breathless chuckle made your stomach churn. “You can. And you will, because I need you to come around my dick.”

In one fatal movement, you were speared onto Ghost’s cock down to the base. Crying out his name as your walls spasmed to adjust in time. Adjusting his hold on your body, the flexibility he’d lusted over while watching you worked to his advantage as he held you by your thighs, dropping your pussy back down over him. Releasing the first of many wet, sucking sounds that earned you such a deep moan of your own name that you impossibly tightened around him.

“Thaaatt’s ittt,” His punched-out praise only urged you on, creating deeper and more unavoidable desire to please him. “Such a good fuckin’ slut. Dripping down my balls… fuucck. You’re gonna make me come.”

The idea of Ghost filling you with his hot release poured hot, honeyed feelings of pleasure. You couldn’t believe there was a feeling such as deeply effecting as this. The shocking weakness in which you felt completely absorbed in to the point that you saw past the rough exterior Ghost was presenting, and understood that he wasn’t taking with your physical self, but everything else that you could offer him. Closeness, support, trust beyond what others had given… maybe even love. Sex hadn’t felt like this before. Especially the filthy way Ghost was fucking his cock up into you so deeply your cervix was curving to mold around his tip. But the connection was there and so strong that your heart was burning in your chest.

“Doin’ so good…” He murmured, wet mask brushing against your cheek and fanning damp breaths over your sensitive skin. “God m’gonna keep you right here forever,” He groaned, biting at your cheek through his mask. “My little toy. Let me make you feel good…”

That wetness in your bright eyes as you nodded up at him, whimpering broken pleads and begs for him to do it. To claim you… fill you up over and over. Never spend another day without Ghost either right next to you, or his semen dripping out of you as a reminder that you’ve been possessed by such a powerful and commanding man that would stop at nothing to drive you out of your mind with pleasure. Such intense emotional and physical feelings that sent you careening over the edge of a earth-shattering orgasm that left you quite literally screaming out his name at the top of your lungs, feeling a heavy pressure in your lower stomach break. Clamping down on Ghost’s cock and feeling overwhelming wetness soaking his pelvis and dripping down onto the floor in a gush of splatters.

“Shhiitt!” Ghost shouted out your name, stuffing his cock as deeply inside you as he could.

Feeling jets of his release flooding your pussy and overflowing the tight space until it rolled down your inner thighs in thick pearl rivulets. His hips rocked against yours, stuttering as they grew weak and his cock overstimulating against the texture and tightness. Right away the bruising grip on your ass and thighs loosened, and on unsteady legs Ghost moved you both back towards the counter and reluctantly drew himself out of you with a hiss. Too fucked out to even respond in a noticeable way, you just kept your weakened legs and arms wrapped as tightly around him as you could. Shivering with aftershocks of nearly-fried nerves and overworked muscles.

You were cradled against Ghost’s chest, with both arms protecting your body. His head resting atop yours, listening to your breaths and feeling the way you began to slowly wind down, made that much easier by his fingers trailing up and down your spine and whispered praise scratching an itch deep in your heart and brain. He was taken by you, so small and made that much smaller with nothing but that soft sweater covering your form and the little hands you’d fisted into his shirt. So pretty, and if it wasn’t for seeing your skills as a soldier, he’d think you were as breakable as a hand painted, porcelain teacup.

Duty to protect and provide washed over Ghost. So strongly that even the small chills rising on your legs were distressing him beyond what would’ve felt acceptable. He wanted you warm and feeling safe with him after taking so much for so long that you could hardly hold your own head up. Moving you again to his quarters was his next task, and he very quickly had you gathered up in his arms and the large towel you’d brought to the gym draped over your bottom half so that neither of you would have to fuss with the wet leggings that had been unintentionally soaked by your final orgasm. Ghost didn’t even bother picking them up off the floor since the right side had been ripped apart beyond repair or wearing again. Mentally, he already had plans on replacing them.

But there would be a lot of things that changed sooner than later.

He’d done everything to stay away. Pretend that he didn’t want you deep in his very bones, and ignore how heavy of a struggle it became to deny simple closeness to another human being that meant more than a cooperating operator. You would be nothing less than his sole purpose in working for. Ensuring you had everything you needed and more than you could ever ask for. He’d take nothing you gave for granted, including the total control of your body for him tonight. And he’d be certain that the next time he touched you… he would do it the right way instead of allowing the desperate side of him to try and swallow you whole. You deserved more than a rough and dominating man. And he wasn’t sure how to even go about becoming something he’d long abandoned for no other reason than survival.

But fuck if he’d be damned if he didn’t dedicate the rest of his life trying.

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

[linphd]

They see your costume rip | Headcanons

female reader

-> While on a fight, your costume rips, making almost all of your breast visible. Luckily for you, they see it and cover it up.

-> Katsuki Bakugou, Shoto Todoroki, Hitoshi Shinsou.

Katsuki Bakugou

It was a random training, nothing unusual. But you, using extra knives whenever your quirk can’t be useful, didn’t really expect them to bump into an hardened Kirishima, throwing them right back at you. But luckily for you, you were able to move away so they wouldn’t pierce through you.

Still, it was enough for one of them to rip your costume, on your chest era. Nothing out of the extraordinary for you, often wearing clothes that weren’t really hiding your breast, but still, you were at school and training.

Katsuki was quick to make an explosion, big enough to make smoke, hiding you and him. Indeed, you guys had been paired up, so he was close to you. « Thank you ! » you said. He only nodded and gave you his gauntlet so you would hold it in front of the rip and no one would see.

« But you know, I often wear clothes that show them like that. » you snorted. « So what ? Stop being a whore and be grateful I hid you. There’s this guy in a diaper creeping around. » he replied, his usual angry expression on. « Mineta, right. » you said.

« Come on ! Go back to the lockers to get it fixed ! » he exclaimed, seeing you not moving. « I’ll go, I’ll go ! I just stayed cause I know you like it when I’m a ‘whore’. » you explained, earning a snort from the blonde. You were lucky he never shut you up for flirting with him.

Shoto Todoroki

You were paired up with Shoto during a training. As Bakugou made an explosion too close to you, you were fast enough to jump and not face directly the explosion, but you were still close enough for you costume to rip at its strength.

You didn’t even notice, waiting for the blonde to leave so you’d be sure to stand up and keep training in peace. But as you stood up, Shoto noticed the huge rip in your costume. Not enough for you breast to be out like Momo’s, but enough to be embarrassing for you.

He immediately averted his gaze and created a tiny ice wall in front of you. You were about to look at him curiously when you noticed that you were just way too naked for your liking. « Oh- thanks ! » you said, trying to tie your costume to hide the rip.

« I didn’t look, I just saw a bit your skin so- » he started to explain. « Don’t be embarrassed, it’s okay, it wasn’t on purpose. » you reassured him. You knew a bit about his crush on you, as Izuku was quite the tattletale, actually.

« I managed to tie the front, see ? » you said. He nodded, a bit blushing that he had to look at the knot you had made -it was still your chest area and he was still rather awkward. « You should still… go back to the locker rooms to get it properly fixed… » he said, looking away. You giggled and went to Aizawa to tell him about your rip.

Hitoshi Shinsou

It had been a few weeks since Shinsou started training with the hero branch. You had had your eye on him since the sports festival -where he brainwashed you to be on his team- even before he became muscular and friendly.

So let’s say it was already quite awkward for you to have to train with your crush. But it became even worse when your team -including you, him, Kirishima and Ojiro- got chased by Bakugou’s and the blonde made an explosion so big its strength just made rips on your costume.

At the loud sound, Shinsou turned to see if everyone behind him was okay, when he noticed you. You weren’t hurt, but you had rips in your costume, making it look like you had borrowed Momo’s. The guys had theirs ripped too -if it was possible for Kiri’s to be worse- but he was focused on you.

He threw his scarf at you, so you just caught it, not knowing much what he wanted. Once you all stopped, he noticed you looked confused. « Aren’t you a bit cold ? » he asked, the tiny grin on his face hidden by his mask. Ojiro pointed out your rip and you gasped, hiding by just wearing the scarf.

« Thank you ! » you told the purple haired boy, your cheeks warmer than ever. « You should go to Aizawa to get that fixed. I mean- if you mind it. » he said. « I DO ! I do- yeah… » you tried to say, even more embarrassed than before. Your team left, Shinsou hiding his giggle at your reaction as you also walked away

[allfearstofallto]

The way you write yandere childe makes me literally salivate omg <333 would you mind doing any of A, C, D, H, N, O, W, or Z for him? I hope you don’t feel pressured to write all or any if you don’t want to 😭

No pressure at all friend!! I love writing for Childe!! Trust me! I've been waiting for someone to ask for him!!!

TW: Dub/Non-Con, NSFW, Violence against reaader

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Childe always has cold hands. You know this, because his hands are always on you. There isn't a moment where Childe is near you where he's not touching you.

It could be something as simple as interlocking his fingers with yours or going as far to force kisses upon you, ones where it feels like he's trying to swallow you whole with his tongue down your throat.

He says he just can't keep his hands off of you and that truly does seem to be the case. His cold fingers always find a way to snake themselves onto some part of your body. A sign of affection yes, but also a warning.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He took you because he loves you and wants you near, but Childe isn't against matching the energy you give him. He's playful at heart, after all, but even that has it's limits.

Being soft towards you is his original goal, he wants to pamper you and adore you while you're less than a few feet away. But shoot him glares or fight him off? He can do the same, the only difference is, he's stronger.

He knows that physical wounds will always heal, but that words last forever, so even when he hurts you, he tells you how much he still loves and cares about you. He's only doing this because you can't seem to stop acting up.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Childe's presence alone is against your will. He knows that, so he makes sure to always be near you. Who would've thought that such an annoying man could actually be a Fatui harbinger?

Around every corner, behind every door, it seems like he's even in every room. Childe is always there, even when you don't want him to be. He does many things that you hate, kissing you, hugging you, forcing his affection onto you whenever he pleases, but the worst thing he does is be there.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

It was just a smile. That's what you told him, but that's what he refused to believe.

You smiled at the man with the funny hat. One of Childe's coworkers if you remember correctly. That man shot you a glare and out of pure nerves you smiled back, causing him to look away with his arms crossed. A harmless interaction to you, but one that left your husband fuming.

You were called lots of things that night, slut, bitch, whore. You never smile at him, he'd yell as he fucked you with your face forced against the snowy ground. Your weren't even given the courtesy of a warm bed not when Childe was angry.

You begged him to at least take you indoors. The snow was burning your skin and worst of all, you were embarrassed that someone would see you, but he just scoffed and left another stinging slap on your already sore ass. A whore like you wants to be seen.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Punishments from Childe can either be the most painful thing you've ever experienced, or a joke made to embarrass you. It honestly just depends on what you did and most importantly, how he's feeling.

You've gotten some of the normal ones. Things like spankings and even a version of “time out” where he made you sit in a corner and think on what you did. But you've also been starved for a week with nothing, but water. Sitting at the dinner table, you'd watch him eat his meal, savoring every bite, while your stomach aches from the hunger pains. You could beg, but Childe typically stood true to his words.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

As many as he deems necessary. There are the obvious ones, like not being allowed to leave without his permission, eating your meals with him, sharing your bed with him, things that from the outside looking in seem normal, but are actually just ways for him to have more control over you.

But there are other things he does, things that are a bit more strange. He doesn't like the idea of you even gazing at another man, so all the staff are female. You're dressed to appeal to him, so you wear what he wants you to. Usually things that are revealing in nature, showing off your thighs, chest, and midriff.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

The simple answer is yes. And without hesitance too. Childe is strong. Stronger than he looks and much stronger than his carefree attitude would lead most to believe. Despite his strength, he isn't scared or worried about hurting you.

Be careful of how hard you fight, because he fights back harder. He won't hit you back because he wants to, but because he has to. He has to show you that you can't always get your way, that you can't just expect him to treat you with kindness, when you're not doing the same to him.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Not intentionally, but it does happen. After trying and failing so many times, after hurting you so much, losing yourself day after day, the light in your eyes is finally gone.

It's one of the only things he regrets. He still has you there, but you're hollow on the inside. One day you're there, the next you're just gone. He does everything in his power to completely bring you back, but he's met with dry, whispery responses from you. He knows that you're truly gone when he tempts you with an easy escape, an open door that you could walk out of with no hassle. He left, giving you the opportunity to just waltz out without him to stop you. But when he comes back, you're still there. And that door is still wide open.

[biibini]

Yoyoyooo, Im literally obsessed w ur headcanons. How do you like the idea Mizu/reader first nighttt together (nsfw??)

modern!mizu x reader - first night together

tags: SUGGESTIVE, cuddling, making out, first time spending the night, gentle making out, soft, fluff, first night, comfort, soft mizu, modern au, modern mizu x reader

a/n: im so behind with my asks :( but my friend found my tumblr acc so hiiiii yk who u are im typing this out while i was texting u last night hehe

modern!mizu would be the one to ask u to sleep over

it wouldn't be meticulously planned

but hinted

typically, u would just come over and watch netflix, cook, maybe play a game or just study together before she walks u to ur dorm

mizu had hoped to maybe ask u to spend the night much earlier

but the fear of moving too fast in a relationship due to her previous relationship with [redacted] held her back

so she never had the nerve to ask

until one night rolls around

and the stars align

ringo went to visit his family for the weekend

u come over to finish a show on netflix, cuddling as per usual

its late at night and ur start to doze off

The final moments of The Great British Bakeshow play on the TV screen. You hear the judges give their final score as you slowly drift to sleep. Mizu doesn't notice how sleepy you are.

Not until your head suddenly rests on her arm.

"Y/N?"

You hum in response, internally struggling against the sleepiness. Mizu turns to get a closer look at your face to find your eyes shut, fighting to stay open. Normally, she would try to wake you up and walk you home to your dorm.

That is what normally happens.

Normally, she wouldn't be wrapping her arm closer to you. Normally, she wouldn't let your head rest against her chest.

Normally, she wouldn't let you stay a little longer.

But tonight, the stars aligned. Ringo was gone to visit his family for his cousin's birthday. Akemi was on a girl's trip with her hometown friends. Taigen was out of town for a basketball tournament.

No one could bother them.

Not tonight.

Definitely not tomorrow.

"How about you stay over tonight?", Mizu says softly. Her hand caresses your left side, hoping for her invitation to be accepted.

Oh.

The thought of staying over had popped into your mind a few several times. You never chased the idea. Besides, it would be rude of you to ask when it wasn't even your own place.

But now, the question was laid right in front of you.

You look up to answer to find Mizu looking down at you, staring at you with those piercing blue eyes. Your smile widens, accepting the invitation with a nod.

"I'll stay.", you respond.

externally, ur keeping it cool

internally, ur freaking tf out

u and mizu have been going out for a few weeks

but staying over the night? not quite yet

modern!mizu would also try to keep her cool

from ur perspective, she looks relaxed

but from her point of view, a part of her was anxious

it wasn't the fear of moving too fast

it was the fact that it was ur first time sleeping together

u guys have SLEPT together

but that would only happen when ringo wasn't home

there wasn't a lonely night

at least

not until tonight

Her hands hold onto yours, gently pulling you into the bedroom. It looked unusual in the moonlight as opposed to the familiar daylight version of the room.

"You can go wash up first. I'll find some pajamas for you.", she says reassuringly.

As you walk into the bathroom, Mizu searches for something suitable for you to wear. She hears the shower run behind the door as she scrambles for something. Anything.

She knew she didn't have actual pajamas. Her sleepwear is just filled with old T-shirts and mismatched shorts or pants. Her hunt leaves her with an oversized t-shirt from Ringo's previous workplace at Hen-Oh Ramen, a chicken ramen chain store, and blue pajama shorts. That place didn't last long after the owner was found stealing the broth recipe from their competitor.

Mizu knocks on the door.

"Hey, may I come in? I have your clothes."

"Yeah, come in!", you yell from the shower.

after u change into the borrowed pjs, u come out

mizu is just chilling in bed on her phone

drinking her chamomile tea

trying to distract herself from the thought of u in her clothes

ur pretty figure in her pjs...

u join her under the sheets

and she gets a glimpse of u

modern!mizu totally didnt short circuit

and sip a little too much and end up coughing on her drink

kinda spilled a little on her shirt

u go into the bathroom to get paper towels and help clean up

You crawl onto the bed with a few paper towels in hand. As you get closer to Mizu and her tea-stained shirt, you sit atop of her leg. You hand a paper towel to her. On the other hand, you're patting down the stains.

The chamomile tea stains are spread all over her chest and stomach. They're not piping hot but a little too warm for comfort. As you continue to pat along the stains, you inch down her lower chest to her stomach. You pat against the damp fabric and feel her stomach. It's a little soft but the harder you press, the harder it becomes to the touch.

In awe, you continue your job as you pat further along her rock-hard stomach. You fail to realize her face is flaring a bright shade of red against her pale skin.

"Y/N?", you look up to meet her ocean blue eyes softly gazing into yours. They were still the same ol' blue you always admire. However, this time they looked warm. An ocean during the sunset with its gentle waves crashing into the shore.

"I got it. Just-", she says as she gently grabs the paper towel you used on the bedrest next to her. Her arms spread wide open. She places her hands on your hips.

"C'mere.", she smiles as she gently caresses your sides.

"But the stains-"

"Don't worry about them."

You feel her hands slowly caress further up your sides. Her hands ghost over your breasts, almost cupping them. You push yourself closer to her and shift your legs over the sides of her legs. She smiles in response to your new position.

"It's an old T-shirt.", she reassured. Still slightly anxious about spending the first night together, she recognized two decisions that could be made. One, make you comfortable and sleep well tonight. Two, make you COMFORTABLE comfortable and sleep later tonight.

Her left hand finds its way down to your hips, caressing the area. As for her right hand, you feel the callouses brush along your neck. They make their way to your soft cheeks, now a pinkish-red tint from the intimate position.

"It'll be okay. But you on the other hand...", Mizu inches closer to your face as she gently pulls you closer. Her thumb softly caresses your lips, feeling how soft and plump they are. Her touch makes your brain go crazy for her touch.

Is it needy of you? Yes.

The fact that she's just softly kissing you on your first night spent together is making your mind shortcircuit with every kiss.

But the feeling of her soft lips against you is warm and plush. Comforting. Your eyes flutter close as her left arm wraps around your lower back, closing the gap between the two of you. As you continue to kiss Mizu, you feel her body shift up and allow her back to rest against the headboard.

Each kiss becomes softer. An occasional needy kiss here and there from her. But for the most part, her lips become a deeper shade of red from your contact. You feel her right hand drag closer to your ear, her fingers teasing your neck.

You groan as Mizu comes closer for another kiss, now with more force on your swollen lips. Her grip around your lower back tightened, fighting to pull you even closer to her. Every touch and kiss heightens your sensitivity. A familiar warmth starts to grow in your lower stomach.

Mizu loosens her grip and starts kissing from your cheeks and down your neck. You feel her lips gently kiss your neck, tickling you with every touch. As she works towards the side of your neck, a moan slips out.

"I guess we have a long night ahead of us.", Mizu teased as she smiled tenderly at you.

"Mizu!", you say jokingly, retaliating against the idea.

She wasn't wrong though.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle.", she comforts you, sealing the deal with a kiss.

[hollowdeath]

tied down (hjp)

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader AU

summary: you and harry potter, the biggest flirt at hogwarts, have been secretly hooking up for weeks after playing hard to get. harry's been dragging his feet when it comes to making things official, so when his flirty tendencies get him in trouble, you decide to play him at his own game and win.

content warning: mentions of hooking up, toxic harry, alcohol, jealousy, angst. briefly edited, not book/movie/canon accurate.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: trying to write shorter blurbs between my longer requests, so please let me know if you like this! i also think it's my first sfw blurb, but trust that i'll be back w the smut in no time <3

harry was known to be a player around hogwarts. he definitely wasn't afraid to go after what he wanted, as he wasn't often rejected. girls seemed to fall for him before he even got the chance to flirt with them. however, that seemed to change when you came to hogwarts.

harry had immediately tried to hit on you, of course. but he knew there was something different about you right away. not only were you the prettiest girl he'd ever talked to, you were also the hardest to get.

you didn't fall for harry's tricks right away and saw through his act. at first you were a bit put off by his player attitude, but you thought he was cute, so you decided to keep him around to see how far he'd actually go for you. you weren't one to be charmed and dropped within a week. if harry really liked you, he'd have no problem working for you.

so, that's what he did. harry focused his attention on you, made time outside of his friends to be with you, and was actually starting to feel real feelings for you. with other girls there was just this instant attraction, which would then fizzle out after harry got what he wanted. with you, however, the feelings only got stronger the longer you kept him guessing. he found himself intrigued by your clever personality and completely enamored with your humor.

after a while of pining for you, you finally gave in to him a bit. it was hard to hold yourself back from something you also wanted, but it was worth making him fight for it.

harry had asked you to help him 'study', which of course meant you were actually working on your assignments while harry was drooling over you the entire time. you didn't mind for the most part, he can be pretty cute when he gets caught staring, but you weren't about to be the only one working.

"can't you focus on anything for more than 2 seconds?" you had asked harry with a laugh, turning to meet his gaze on you. you were sitting in the library in a secluded section, a dim light above your heads as the sun began setting outside of the windows next to you.

"you. all day." harry smirks, looking you up and down. you rolled your eyes, but harry saw the blush on your cheeks. "and you can't even do that without getting distracted." you tease him, smirking in return as you close your textbook.

"a guy runs into a pillar one time…" harry mumbles, annoyed. you're laughing at the memory, your hand covering your face. "it wasn't funny!" harry insists, but your laugh is making him crack a smile.

you look at him again, and he's enamored with the sight of you. giggling, blushing, the lighting so beautiful around you he swears he believes in angels now. you shake your head at him, still smirking and chuckling. "it was pretty funny." you told him, leaning towards him from laughing so hard in your seat.

"you're pretty." harry deadpans, his eyes searching you over and over. you really were pretty, prettier than harry could ever put into words.

you would normally roll your eyes or scoff at harry's attempt to flirt with you, but he wasn't flirting. he was being genuine. his eyes were honest and full of admiration for you in that moment.

so, you just leaned in and kissed him.

it was simple, sweet, and opened the gates to so much more over time. harry took it as an invite to start kissing you at random, intimate moments as well. nothing more than a kiss for a while, until you were the one to actually push it further by making out, giving harry love bites, touching over clothes, which then lead to touching under clothes…

within a few months you two were hooking up in secret nearly every week. harry had flings here and there before but never anything exclusive and extended like things have been with you. and while you found the secret hook ups to be exciting and fun at first, you didn't want to just be another girl on harry's roster. you were really starting to like him, and didn't want to see yourself get played.

whenever you tried to joke about becoming official, harry would laugh you off or ignore it completely. he knew it was starting to frustrate you, but he'd never been in a relationship before and he was afraid it wasn't what he really wanted. of course harry had feelings for you, feelings he's never felt for someone before, but he's always wanted to keep his options open. besides, he liked your casual hookups. was that so wrong of him?

he liked moments like right now, sitting across from you in the gryffindor common room, hanging out with a few friends and giving each other knowing looks between conversations. while everyone around you knew you two were definitely flirty towards one another, nobody really knew how much time you spent together. not just hooking up, but all the times the other has stayed the night talking for hours until the morning, or all the private study dates alone in the back of the library. you guys were definitely more than friends with benefits, but harry never acted like it when other people were around. he could tell you were starting to find it annoying rather than flattering.

your friends had been talking about a party someone was throwing that weekend when a couple girls walked through the room on their way out to leave. "guess i should start asking around for a date then, huh? what about you, you seem fun." harry's friend called towards one of the girls. they both turned to him, looked at each other, and laughed, making you laugh to yourself.

"what? i clean up nice!" he tried to redeem himself. the girls scoffed at him. "yeah, right," one of them said sarcastically. "yeah," the other said, still giggling as she looked towards harry. "besides, i'd rather go with your friend." she says in a flirtatious voice.

a few of your friends give you a side eye, but you just smirk and look at harry, waiting for his response. he glanced at you before looking at the girl and laughing nervously. his friend laughed heartily. "i don't think he's available that night..." he said, turning his head towards you.

harry throws his hands up defensively, a smirk on his face as he looks the girl up and down. "hey, you never know. i could be." he says with a chuckle. more eyes are drawn to you as you look at him with a curious expression.

"call me then." the girl says with a wink before leaving with her friend, giggling the entire way out the door.

there's a silence in the air as everyone looks between you and harry. he sees everyone's concerned eyes and becomes confused. "what?" he asks with a laugh.

you scoff at him, amused at his confusion. "what was that?" you asked, your tone still playful as you gesture to where the girls were. "what? it was a joke!" harry says, his hands raised in defense again. you click your tongue and roll your eyes, an evil smirk growing on your face. "oh, come on, [y/n]," harry says with an exasperated voice, leaning back in his seat.

"i don't know, harry, that was cold." harry's friend says with a nervous laugh. "yeah, [y/n]'s sitting right here." one of your friends reminds him.

you look back at harry, who's now rolling his eyes. "i was kidding. besides, we never said we were going together," he argues, pointing in your direction. all eyes fall back on you as a few "ooh"s are let out under breaths. you cross your arms, still giving harry that same evil smirk.

he looks at you again, his eyes softening at your expression. "stop, i'm not–""no, you're right. we never said that," you interrupt him with a sarcastic, knowing tone in your voice.

harry gave you a look, knowing what you were doing. "you never know, i could still find a date," you tell your friends, who start laughing with you. harry's friend looks towards him nervously, but his eyes were narrowed in on you. "right, harry?" you ask him innocently.

harry's tongue runs across his teeth, feeling his blood pressure rise just from thinking about you with another guy. however, he's not about to let you have the upper hand in front of everyone just like that. "yeah, sure. i could too." he says coldly.

still smirking, you nod your head and stand from your seat on the couch. "perfect, guess we gotta go find me a dress, yeah?" you ask your friends who eagerly jump up to join you on a shopping trip. on your way out, you wave a casual goodbye towards harry without another word.

harry's friend hits his shoulder, laughing at him. "you fucked up," he tells him. harry shrugs him off. "whatever, we're not even dating. besides, she won't actually bring another guy." harry tries to convince himself, still staring at the door. "if you're not dating then why would you care, mate?" harry's friend's still laughing at his misery when harry gets up to go to his room.

harry doesn't hear from you the rest of the week, and gets incredibly anxious the night of the party thinking you actually might show up with a date. by the time he's on his way with a few friends, all he wants is a drink to calm his nerves. because, well, so what if you showed up with a guy? you weren't his girlfriend, and that's how harry wanted it, right?

"nervous about something, harry?" one of them asked, snickering with the others. "shut the fuck up." harry snaps, only making them laugh harder at him. "lighten up, mate. just shag someone else tonight and get over it." another teased him. harry just stayed quiet and ignored their taunts.

harry's already finished with his first drink before he notices you entering the room. you looked fucking incredible. the dress, the hair, the makeup, everything was perfect. any other time he would've been thrilled to see you so dolled up, but he knew you only did this tonight to spite him. you knew exactly what you were doing and you were doing it well.

you were laughing with a few friends and getting your first drink when you spotted harry, already staring you down. you instantly smirked and gave him a look from head to toe before turning away and following your friends to the other room to dance.

harry followed as well, his friends joining behind him to find girls to dance with. the music was too loud to think, but harry's mind was racing watching you sway your hips to the song as you joined the crowd of dancing students. he tried to keep an eye on you but you disappeared into the sea of faces.

"just have fun, mate." one of harry's friends yelled to him over the music, patting him on the shoulder. harry gave him a half smile, nodding in his direction. he was right. if you were going to be like that, harry could play along too. he was the player first, anyway.

scanning the rest of the room, harry finds a decently pretty girl on the edge of the crowd and begins talking her up. he's only half-interested in the conversation with the clearly tipsy girl, his eyes still searching the room to find you again.

he's about to give up and go looking for you when you suddenly come into his view, only a few feet away. you were dancing in front of some guy, he looked like a kid in harry's eyes. you were chatting with him, your hands messing with the bottle in your hand as your hips continued to sway. you weren't even close to him or seemed to be flirting with him at all, but just seeing you with another guy looking as good as you did made harry's fists clench. 

you glanced in his direction and he immediately turned to the girl in front of him and began laughing, nodding his head to the music, pretending he never saw you. once harry felt your gaze drift away, he looked back, and you were gone.

sighing, harry says his goodbyes to the drunk girl and gets another drink for himself, chugging half of it before coming back up for air. he stands by the table for a minute trying to let his heart rate slow before hearing your laugh entering into the room.

harry turns and sees you saying your goodbyes to a different guy than the one from before, some tall kid with terrible posture that harry could easily take on. as he leaves the room, it's just you and harry next to the drinks. you turn and see him, a surprised smile on your face. "hi," you say politely, stepping around him to grab another drink.

"how long were you planning on torturing me, exactly?" harry asked you, sounding angrier than he meant to. you just chuckled to yourself, a confused look on your face as you removed the cap from your next bottle. "what do you mean?" you asked innocently.

harry let out an angry huff, staring at you with his jaw set. "you know exactly what you're doing." harry deadpans. you look at him knowingly, taking a swig of your drink before shrugging. "i'm just having fun." you told him with a smirk. "yeah, i can see that." harry spits out. you're clearly reveling in his jealousy which is only frustrating him further.

he looks you up and down once more and can hardly contain himself. your skin looks so soft, and you smell even better than you look. he's never seen you in such a short dress and it's driving him insane knowing it's not just for him. don't these losers staring at you know harry's the only one that's seen what's under this dress? that he knows all your favorite spots to be kissed, your weaknesses, your fantasies? that he's been fucking pining over you for months to get your attention?

speaking of losers, another one comes into the room and walks straight up to you, ignoring harry like he was never there. "hello, beautiful," he said in a voice that made harry aggressively roll his eyes, turning his head to look away, his hands balling into fists again.

"saw you on the dancefloor and figured i'd ask for a song," he invites you, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles. "you've got every eye on you tonight, yeah?" the loser says, causing harry to lick his teeth and turn his angry stare back to you.

you were smiling at the guy politely, too politely for harry's taste, before turning him down gently. "no problem, maybe i'll win you over later." he says with a wink before leaving, never acknowledging harry once.

you looked back at harry with a smug smile. "really? i'm right here." he says incredulously, throwing his hands up. you can't help but laugh. "doesn't feel good, does it? at least i rejected him." you make your point with raised eyebrows, taking another drink.

harry sighs, the anger subsiding as he sets his drink down. "look, it was a bad joke, okay? i wanted to come with you this whole time, and i think you know that." he says with a pout. you just continue smirking. "i know." you say simply.

"then why? why are you doing this to me?" harry begs, a hint of anger still present behind his guilt. you laugh again, and it only makes harry more confused and upset. "just enjoy yourself, harry." you tell him, patting his shoulder like his friend did earlier as you left behind him.

harry downs the rest of his drink and half of his third before returning to the room with the music, seeing a few of his friends dancing with some random girls. as harry walks through the crowd, a girl grabs him by the shoulders and begins dancing with him to the beat of the music. harry looks at her, looks around, and sees you to his right.

dancing with yet another guy.

this time he was holding your hand as you swayed your hips to the music, watching you with a hunger in his eye. harry's rage immediately returned. he looked down at the girl who grabbed him and pulled her closer to him, moving his hips to the beat with her. after a moment he looked back at you and caught your eyes for just a second before you returned to dancing.

harry continued to move with the girl half heartedly in an attempt to get your attention for a few minutes before he saw you heading for the front door with your friends. just as harry broke away from the dancing girl to follow, a completely different guy cut him off to chase you out of the room.

harry could physically feel himself succumbing to his anger as he stomped towards the door. he entered the hallway and saw you standing just a few feet away, your back turned as your friends were dying laughing beside you.

as harry approaches, he sees the guy that just followed you out now in front of you, clearly drunk, asking you repeatedly if you'll give him your number. you're saying, "no, i'm sorry, no, thank you, though," with an uncomfortable laugh, trying to turn him down gently.

the guy literally drops to his knees in front of you, his hands in yours, begging for your number. "please, please, just gimme a chance, you're so–" he gets interrupted by a burp. "so pretty," he chokes out.

your friends are giggling amongst themselves before harry walks up to the guy, stunning them into silence. "she said no, fucking tosser," harry's voice bellows, picking the guy up by his collar from his knees. "now leave my girlfriend alone, yeah?" harry growls into his face before throwing him towards the door. the guy flips harry off before stumbling back into the party.

your friends gasp and laugh to themselves again, telling you they're gonna go before running off down the hall together giggling the entire way.

harry's breathing heavily, his fists still clenched staring at the door. "girlfriend?" your curious voice perks up behind him.

he turns to you, smiling at your shocked expression. his hands relaxed, as well as his mind. "yes, my girlfriend." he says matter-of-factly, taking a step towards you to put a hand on your waist. "i don't want any other guy looking at you the way they did tonight ever again. okay? you win. you're mine." harry says possessively, his hands gripping you closer to him.

you sighed. "i wasn't trying to make you mad tonight, i just wanted you to see that you're not the only one with options." you tell him smugly, your arms wrapping around his neck. "i want to be taken seriously, harry. that's all i ever wanted from you." you say genuinely, your eyes searching his.

harry looks down at you and smiles, admiring you for a moment. "you're all i've wanted since the moment i saw you," he admits, resting his forehead against yours. "i love you, [y/n]."

you smile, leaning in to kiss him softly. "i love you too, harry."

[multifariousqueer]

im starving for 42 miles and i agree w ur hcs so can u pls write a fem reader fic where we’re chilling at home n he js barges in one night all roughed up n he has heaps of cuts n is bloody- and we get concerned but we know not to ask so we js silently patch him up while he stares at us (and hes got like sm thoughts in his head ab how much he loves us and appreciates us etc) and u can finish it off BUT YEAH

also pls include the pet names cos his accent has me WEAKKK and ik he def calls us ma and mami😩😩😩

Ofc Love!!! I’ve wanted to get this done for a bit now so here it is!!:

A/n: keep requesting miles!42 and regular miles fics please!! 🩷

Warnings: suggestiveness at the end, make out sessions, angst, fluff, groping(it’s consensual and it’s only seen when you squint), love confessions, possible spoilers if you haven’t seen atsv yet

3:00 AM

You: miles, baby are you okay?

Seen

You: are you mad at me for the joke I made about your braids being fluffy?

Seen

You: I didn’t mean it

You: text me when you can. Love you 🩷🩷

Seen

You fell asleep exasperated like you’ve been doing for the last three weeks now. Miles hasn’t been answering any of your texts or calls and has been leaving you on seen for no reason. When you did see him in person, he looked tired and diminished. Ever since his dad died, he’s been acting weird like this; but you could understand why. Although him and Uncle Aaron were closer, Miles was still really close to his dad and his dad loved you. You came over Rio and Miles’ house every day since then and tried to provide solace to them but Miles was always gone when you came over. His room looked different too, having ditched the bright superhero posters and traded them in for boxing gloves and a punching bag. Thankfully, you had established trust with Miles and he knew he could come to you any time, you just didn’t expect him to come through your window at 4:00 AM on a Saturday morning.

It was about 3:15 when he saw your message, he wondered why you were still up and what were you doing but he couldn’t ponder the question for too long because he had someone chained up to his punching bag.

“Miles? Get off your phone, man.”- Uncle Aaron’s voice brought Miles back to reality

Miles did as told and geared up to kill the young boy who looked exactly like himself when all of a sudden, the chains fell and the doppelgänger swung at Miles’ perfectly structured face. A few of the punches connected but he was still able to subdue the mirrored image of himself(if everything went right).

However, Miles’ suit had been clobbered, his clothes covered in blood from a broken nose and blood from the fight. Even though he won, he couldn’t go back to his house because his mom would admonish him for this and Uncle Aaron was keeping watch so he went to your house.

You heard faint tapping on the window that you had assumed it was a bird, until the tapping became a loud knocking. You scurried up grabbing the nearest thing that looked like a weapon and went to the window. You found a battered Miles and knew something was wrong:

“Miles?”-you whisper shouted

“Ola mi amor” he said, trying to be suave but flinching in pain

You opened the window and let him in. You knew he was rough and bloodied up for a reason but it was late(or early depending on how you look at it) and you knew he wouldn’t tell you why; a small part of you also knew but chose not to acknowledge it. You just silently grabbed the first aid kit and patched him up as best as you could. You noticed he had a broken nose:

“Rough night?” You Said, trying to ease the tension

Miles didn’t reply, rather he looked at you through bruised eyes and simply nodded.

“Your nose is broken. You should probably go the the hospital for that” you said, nonchalantly

“Can’t you fix it?” He mumbled

“not easily” you mumbled, mocking his tone

He gave you an annoyed glare before saying:

“I’m sorry to come in late like this. And I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you, Mami; it’s a lot going on that you wouldn’t understand and I’m trying to protect you.”

“It would’ve been nice for you to call or text” you said while closing the first-aid kit.

“I knew you would’ve worried about me and I didn’t want that” he said, hanging his head

“I’m your girlfriend, it’s my job to worry about you” you chuckled

It was like a Disney movie, Miles realized that if no one else would, you would hold it down for him and that you were gonna be there through thick and thin. He knew he loved you but this solidified it in his mind; he knew that if he survived long enough, you were gonna be his wife. It would be you waking him up everyday, it would be you kissing him goodnight and good morning, it would be you carrying and having his babies. Some days, he would wake up and wonder how he got so lucky with someone like you but he never thought too much into it because he knew he would find a way to sabotage it for himself but now, he didn’t care:

“I love you, Y/n” he said

“I love you too, Miles” you replied softly

“No. I mean like I love you so much that I can’t stand it, I wanna marry you, Y/n and be with you for life. If no one else has me, I know you do and I can’t even imagine myself without you.” Miles said

You started to tear up before crashing your lips onto his. Your lips moved in perfect sync as he grabbed your hips with one hand, and cupped your face in the other. You stayed this way for a while until Miles slipped his tongue into your mouth, battling for dominance against your tongue which he emerged victorious. He started moving his other hand to your ass as you moved yours to his chest when suddenly, you hear your parent call out:

“Y/n!!!”

“Yeah” you replied nervously, Miles leaving a trail of kisses down your neck

“Breakfast is ready” they shouted

You looked at your phone as Miles rubbed your back and saw it was 8:00 already.

“Shit” You Said under your breath, partly because of how Miles was making you feel

“Go Mamà, we’ll finish this later” he said against his neck

“Okay I love you, call me this time” you smiled

“Por supesto, Mami” he replied

You went down for breakfast and sat in your normal spot:

“Y/n?” Your parent said

“Yeah?” You replied

“What’s that on your neck?” They smirked

Damn it Miles

Translations

Por supesto- of course

[goldenhypen]

; ⎯ to protect .

synopsis. jay gets into a fight to defend y/n.

pairing. jay x reader ⋅ genres. slight angst to fluff ⋅ wc. 0.7k ⋅ warnings. some harassment, a fight between jay and another guy, mentions of blood

prompt 7. lightly kissing on top of a freshly formed bruise ⋅ requested ⋅ dark blood event

“y/n,” a despicable voice called from behind. you grimaced and reluctantly turned around to face the source–some guy who has been hitting on you regardless of you always turning him down–as he continued, “what are you doing later?”

“i have plans,” you responded flatly, trying to give him the fourteenth hint this week.

without a reply from him despite waiting a few seconds, you began turning around, but with your first step away, you felt his tight grasp against your wrist, causing you to wince at the sudden strength.

“hey, let go, would you?!” you attempted to pull away, but his grip remained strong.

“instead, how about w–” you didn’t even want to know what was to escape his dirty mouth, and luckily you didn’t have to, because before he could finish, one of your friends, jay, suddenly had his hold on him, and jay had no intention of letting go anytime soon.

“let go,” jay spoke through gritted teeth, angry, challenging eyes never leaving the other male.

with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, with one last glance at you, the guy finally let go of you, and you let out a sigh of relief under your breath, watching as he walked away.

but before he could get far, he immediately turned around, and with a powerful swing of his dominant arm, a punch was thrown directly at jay’s jaw.

you screamed, covering your mouth with both hands, and before you could even attempt to cut in, jay steadied himself, and with those same infuriated eyes, he fought right back.

honestly, watching them go back and forth almost caused you to break down into tears as you screamed over their grunts and hits against each other, but they didn’t stop until another man cut in and finally separated them both after making a huge scene.

when it was safe, you ran to jay and with your eyes and hands, immediately checked his face and body for damage–and there were most definitely evident bruises and some blood dripping down the sides of his face and bottom lip.

you pulled jay away as the other guy was being taken care of and hopefully punished, and you got to somewhere far enough and safe.

and when you found a place to sit down together, that was when the tears began to flow down your cheeks.

“hey,” jay started, voice softer than ever, “don’t do that.”

he brought a hand up to wipe your tears away. you hadn’t noticed before the blood that lined his knuckles until now.

you pulled his hand down and took the other one too, and you frowned, “you shouldn’t have done that, jay.”

tears pricked your eyes again before he spoke, “i couldn’t just let him continue doing what he was doing, especially considering he was doing it to you!”

you met his eyes.

you had liked jay for about two years now, and never in that entire time were you as deeply in love with him as you were in this moment.

you both stared at each other for a good few moments before his eyes couldn’t help but travel down to your parted lips, causing yours to do the same to his.

and as if in sync, you both leaned in, quickly closing the gap and kissing each other softly.

but it didn’t last long before a wince escaped him and you immediately pulled away with concern washing over your features.

suddenly the taste of blood entered your mouth, and you glanced down at jay’s lips. it was then that you were reminded of the tear on his bottom lip, as well as the obvious bruises to the rest of his face.

but for some reason, the thought of the kiss then came back to you, and he watched as you couldn’t help but feel flustered.

you looked down, avoiding eye contact before standing up, taking his hand and pulling him up with you.

“where are we going?” he asked.

“to go get you treated. i can’t have you wincing every time we touch.”

“oh?” he chuckled. “does that mean you’re expecting me to kiss you again?”

you tried your very best to contain the smile that threatened your lips but instead let out a ‘very convincing,’ “shut up.”

a/n. yay first drabble of the event done !! lmk how you liked it!

event masterlist.

taglist (open). @raimbows4u @beibybtch @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @beans-and-jeanes @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @sungbeam @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @rapmonie2047 @pshchives @sunjakes @ethereal-engene @yeosayang @koishua @4ri-ki @kookielover29 @jaeyunjakesim @tnyhees @enaus @hoes4hoseok @1unxtic @palajae @annoyingbitch83 @mirula @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @ktttwwn @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @mnsnts @chacottone @yeseoist @azurez @milisabunny @wonniestars @liikno

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

How about a little argument and make up with Gaz 👀 He crosses a line and blurts out something he shouldn't have? I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort, thanks! Congrats on 5k!! 💕💕

—Didn't Mean It

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Arguments are rare, certainly ones that leave you in tears.] ❞

You ended up locking yourself in the bedroom to have some time to yourself, head under the covers and your eyes burning from the tears you’d shed over the course of hours. It had to be well into the night now—maybe even into tomorrow if you bothered to think realistically. 

An argument with your boyfriend was practically unheard of, certainly one that left you tearing up and your hands shaky. Your heart hurting. 

Kyle had gotten back from his deployment a week early just yesterday, and you had immediately known something was wrong. He was having a harder time re-adjusting to civilian life—was more curt in his answers to your questions even if you were just trying to understand how to make him feel better. The entire day had been spent with him blankly staring at the telly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. 

The fight had started about, of all things, the duffel bag of his belongings that you’d brought into the laundry room. You can’t remember most of it, but you remembered enough. 

“Gaz,” you level. “It’s a duffel bag. I just need it out of the walkway so I don’t trip over it.”

The man scoffs, but he can’t look at you. 

“What, you expecting someone over?” Your face wrinkles, head pulling a bit back like your neck was on a string. 

“...Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” His brown eyes turn to you, burning as his hands twitch. “Having someone come over when I’m not around, yeah? Giving me a run-around?” 

For a moment you’re utterly silent, not blinking as you stare at him in shock. When you gather your senses, you force out through a tight throat. “Garrick, I suggest you be careful with what you’re saying to me. You need to sit down and think rationally—it’s just a bag, this is ridiculous. Why in the world would I ever do something like that to you?”

His jaw clenches. 

“I don’t need to bloody sit down!” Kyle snaps, head turning away with a bit of panic in his eyes. It became apparent pretty quickly that he wasn’t in the right headspace and he knew it. “I need to know if you’ve been fucking someone else!” 

Your body tenses, eyes snapping wide. A swift silence falls between the two of you as your mouth gapes at Gaz. As if just realizing what he’d said, the man puts a hand on the back of his head and steps back, lips opening and closing. 

“W-wait, I didn’t…I didn’t mean it like that, Love. I…” You’re already walking away, hands at your sides clenched and tears stinging the back of your eyes like knives. 

So here you were, lying on the bed and breathing low—eyes half closed as Gaz’s shadow doesn't leave from under the door. He’d been there the whole time, sitting on the floor across the hall. Waiting. On occasion he’d speak; talk about how the deployment went. 

You only really listened in the dim shadows when he offered an explanation for his attitude. 

“I…” His voice is muffled, but it’s still Kyle. “I held a kid as he died, Love.” You’re fully awake in an instant, eyes stuck to the dark wood. “I watched…I just fucking watched, and I couldn’t do a damn thing. I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to take it out on you—I…Bloody Hell, I’m sorry, Sweetheart, I didn’t mean it. Fuck I didn’t mean it.” 

The man is getting choked up, his words jumbling together as a deep pain grows over the airways. Your hand is on the handle of the door before you can remember your anger, opening it and darting across the small distance. You collide with his firm chest as the first of his sobs break out of his chest, his hands shakily curling around your back as you pull him up. 

“I’m sorry,” he utters, broken, as his head shoves itself into your neck. “I’m sorry.” Again, again, again. 

You hold him and he grasps onto you like a lifeboat, both unsure. Forcing down your own tears, you put a hand on his back and rub it up and down, whispering to him. 

“Shh, Kyle,” he sobs, shaking. “Hey, it’s alright—I know you didn’t mean it, Love. I know.”

“Isn’t an excuse,” the man mutters into your skin, your shirt sticking to your flesh. “Shouldn’t have said that to you. I don’t even know why I did—don’t even believe it; you’d never do that.” 

“No,” you whisper, reassuring him. “No, I wouldn’t.” 

Pulling back, you grab onto his cheeks and level his leaking eyes with yours, wiping with your thumbs at his cheeks; brushing over the scars on his left under-eye. He sags and tries to give you a wobbly smile. A second later you speak.

“You’re stuck with me, Kyle Garrick. For all of it,” you say firmly—hard. And you say it again, and will until he believes it. “For all of it.”

The both of you stay there for a long time until your foreheads collapse into each other and you finally see the honest flicker of his lips again. You share a small, knowing, look. 

“For all of it,” he utters, and slots his lips to yours; whispering apologies in between every kiss as he drags you impossibly closer.

[bangchansgirlsblog]

9th member getting in a bad fight w skz (v v v angsty)

Hit me where it hurts.

Warning: very traumatizing, read at your own risk!

Pairing: skz x 9th member

Summary: friends fight all the time but eventually get back together right?

!not proofread so forgive me for mistakes!

You will hate me after this but I love you 😆Enjoy!

-🩷

*

My body stumbles into the dorm rooms. A giggle leaves my mouth. My vision was blurry, no doubt there. The room was spinning but in a good way.

The scent of a good home cooked meal filled my nostrils as I sat on the floor and removed my tied shoes.

Another giggle escapes my mouth as I get up and fall down on my bum.

“Y/n? Is that you?” A voice calls that makes me jump a little. I look up to see leeknow walking into the little entrance of the dorms.

“Heyyy Oppa,” my words slur as I get up again slightly sliding but able to balance.

He looks at me examining my body. He was wearing sweatpants and a white hoodie. His glasses were on too meaning he was cooking. He stood there arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.

“Have you been drinking again?” His voice is calm yet harsh.

“Maybe,” I simply say before giggling again and walking past him making my way to the living room.

His body turns with mine as he follows behind continuing the conversation.

“Are you fucking serious? We talked about this.” His tone was getting louder and I didn’t like it at all. I stopped and looked at him. His face a few inches away from mine.

“But Oppa I thought you said you would support me in everything I do,” I tilt my head and bite my lip. Slowly a smirk crips up. “Don’t you like seeing me happy?” I hiccup.

He takes a step back and I frown, “You’ve been coming home drunk for the past two weeks! What is wrong with you? We’ve been worried sick!” He growls quite literally. His face turning red and his arms crossed.

“Okay but what’s the big deal I had a little to drink, whatever,” I roll my eyes and turn my body to continue walking to the living room.

His hand grabs mine. I squirm a little trying to make him let go. “Let go Leeknow your hurting me,”

“Look at yourself Y/n! Just look! You’re a fucking mess!” His voice is loud now. Filled with anger and running through out the house. His towering over me. Making me feel small.

“Leeknow I said let go of me now!” I yelp but he doesn’t. His breathing is heavy and his looking at me with dark eyes. Filled with hurt and anger.

“Your killing yourself-“

I cut him off. Not even bothering to listen to the long speech he was about to give because what was the point? We had been going through this for the past week. The same old boring ass speech.

“I don’t fucking care! You didn’t care about me before now why all of a sudden you care about me now huh? Huh?! You’re a monster, you and all the boys are!” I’m now yelling at the top of my voice. His hand lets go shocked at my reaction. He steps back trying to process what I was trying to say. His eyes searching my face.

“What do you mean I didn’t care? Who was fucking there for you when you got eliminated? Who was h there for you when you broke your ankle? Who the fuck was there for you the nights you couldn’t learn a choreography? Huh? Who the fuck was there for you when your mum disowned you? Stop being a fucking little bitch about everything and running away from your problems. Face them! Face them instead of drinking them away!”

“Don’t you ever talk about my mother again leeknow,” my voice is low, anger laced all over it. It almost comes out as venom.

His stood in-front of me, his hands are in a fist. Why was his hand in a fist? Was he going to hit me? What was he trying to do?

“If you going to fucking hit me, hit me! Hit me leeknow-“

I step closer to his body. My finger poking at his chest and he clenched his jaw. The world is still spinning and the room is dim.

“Hey! What the fuck is going on?!” Hyunjin drops his phone on the ground and runs towards us. His hand automatically wrapping around my waist and pulling me away from leeknow who is huffing in anger. Trying to calm down.

“What the fuck Y/n?! Have you been drinking again?” Hyunjin asks me when he puts me down. His runs his hands through his hair as he starts to examine me. His eyes going back and forth between me and leeknow. “Please don’t tell me you haven’t,”

I go quiet but Leeknow Ofcourse had to step in.

“Yes she has been-“

“It doesn’t have to do with any of you!” I yell at him. I grab my jacket that laid on the floor and slightly stumble. Hyunjin is still processing what’s going on but leeknow still has a lot to say, I see it, I sense it.

“Yes the fuck it does because you promised you would stop! Look at the way you’re talking to leeknow! You can’t even see in a straight line for crying out loud!” Hyunjin’s outbursts caused me to snap back into reality.

“Why are you on my dick Hyunjin? Why are you alwyals in my business?! God! Ever since you came back from haitus you’ve been such a clingy bitch!” The words leave my mouth and my brain stops. I instantly regret what I had just said. I knew Hyunjin didn’t like his hiatus and it was the worst time in his life.

“Hyunjin’s I didn’t mean-“

“Are you serious? Are you serious right now y/n?” Leeknow cuts into the argument. His now walking towards both of us. His hands waving in the air as he speaks. “Why would you say such a thing to him? You know how sensitive that is!”

Hyunjin’s eyes start to shine, his lips turning into a frown then a scowl, “and ever since you were sexually assaulted you’ve been moping around like a bitch!” Hyunjin took a step away from me his hands were shaking. His voice is louder than ever. His body upward and straight.

The word hit me hard. My body starts to shake aswell. This was the biggest fight we had ever gotten into and we had just taken it on another level.

“Oh great then why don’t we all just leave eachother alone huh?!” I stumble back again, the alchohol getting to me as hard as the emotions were. “You know what? Fuck you leekmow, fuck you hyunjin!”

“That’s great because you know what?! Chan never wanted you in the group before! He just picked you cause you were a sad fucking trainee that nobody wanted in their team-“

“Hyunjin!” A voice yells and we all turn at Chan and Felix who are standing at the door. Obviously coming from outside. They were both wearing coats and beanies due to the coldness outside.

“I’m sorry! I had to say it, She’s a bitch!” He glares at me and then back at Chan “and I mean it, I can be a bitch to if I wanted too,” he spits at me.

I look at him in disbelief. My heart ached. My heart ached so much I couldn’t help but hold my chest.

“Where the fuck have you been Y/n? So you know me and Felix have been walking out in the cold for hours looking for you?!” I look up at Chan who is now in the same area as us. Leeknow still standing there pissed off trying to calm down.

“Why would you? Because I’m a sad little girl that needs saving?!” I scoff when I reply to Chan. His face falls, so does Felix’s. My Han trying to support my weight as I watch everyone in the room glaring at me.

Was this even real? Was I even real?

“Are you drunk Y/n?” He looks at me, eyes wide opened. His hands turn into a fist as well. His jaw tensed up.

“Ask your little fucking friends that you wanted,” I scoff and turn my back on them starting to walk out the door. I fall to the ground (quite literally) and put on my shoes. Then get up. The boys all watching in shock trying to figure out what to do.

“Where are you going?!” Chan yells, “running away from your problems won’t solve anything! Y/n! Stop!” His shouts are getting louder as I open the door not bothering to listening to him.

“I’m going somewhere fucking away from you and your pathetic little team! Chan leave me the fuck alone.” Everything goes quiet as I unlock the door but the glass shattering causes me to turn and look at their direction.

Pieces of glass laid in front of them. The handle of the face still in Chan’s hand.

“Good go away and don’t come back all you do is cause us problems!”

“Hyung!” Felix gasps and grabs his arm trying to calm him down. “Don’t say that! Ever-body just please calm down and let’s talk about it-“

“I didn’t want to be in the group in the first place!”

“We all didn’t want you either but look where we both are!”

“Hyung stop!” Felix puts his hand over his mouth. “That’s not true! Look at you guys.” His eyes tears up as he looks at me. My heart breaks. “Y/n just come back inside and let’s talk about it okay?”

“Let her go Felix, she’s pathetic anyway.” Hyunjin says as he turns around to walk back to his room.

I slam the front door and run up the apartments stairs. I need to get away for a moment. I needed to think. I stumble through out until I get to the roof stop.

I take a deep breath and find my legs swinging off the edge. I look down to say the busy street.

When did life get this busy? This out of control?

I had to deal with a lot. I couldn’t anymore. I wouldn’t. If the boys didn’t want me anymore then I had no one.

Hot tears run down my cheeks. The pain in my chest aching even worse than before. The wind blew on my hair as I took a deep breath in and let myself go.

“No wait! Y/n!” I hear I.N’s scream. Instant regret fills my body but it’s to late. My body falling down the different floors, gasps and screams fill the street until everything goes quiet. My mind goes quiet.

Then end.

*

Y’all I feel so bad omg forgive me 😭

-🩷

PT 2:

[uncouth-the-fifth]

click, p.2 - Sam Winchester/Reader

read it on ao3.

Pairing: Sam Winchester/Reader (late s5) Tags/Warnings: angst, love confessions, romantic sex, oral sex/cunnilingus, (aka, Sam pussy addiction: the shequel), Sam is Lucifer's vessel, reader is AFAB. Word Count: ~11k. Notes: i was commissioned for the second time by the lovely @daffodil-mania, who wanted a continuation of her last fic set during the "say yes" era of s5. (sooooo dangerous to let me put my grubby hands on this version of Sam, btw). i cannot express how BUCK FUCKING WILD uncouth-nation went for the first part of this fic, so this is for all the wonderful people who gushed over click, commented, threw me some kudos, or even just read it and liked it. lots of love, and i hope you enjoy <3 i did my best to rip out your soul as best i could. THIS CAN STAND ON IT'S OWNNN AHHH. i mean. if u wanna read it <3 Ask to be added to my taglists for future posts!

FIVE YEARS LATER

The walk from the bus stop to your apartment is a safe and easy seven minutes. If you were any other person in any other world, you’d glide onto the bus after your night shift at the university, hop off at your stop, and bumble toward your apartment without a single care in the world. Maybe stare at your phone the whole walk back. Text a hot guy who isn’t the physical manifestation of the devil on earth. Normal stuff.

But this is your life, so you sit front seat on the bus, hands in your lap, tapping a nervous beat against the angel blade hidden in your book bag. The windows rattle in their frames and gleam with rain. You could get off at your stop and take those easy seven minutes home—but the bus driver could also be a demon, so.

Since you aren’t in the mood to die a slow death tonight, walking a few extra blocks to keep anybody from knowing where you live will have to work.

On day two of this, you’d called Dean and asked if you were being extra paranoid. He’d kindly pointed out: Extra-paranoid is just extra-survival. I dunno about you, but survivin’ a lil’ extra sounds fan-fuckin-tastic to me right about now.

He’s right. You know he’s right. But it still doesn’t feel like a good answer, and that makes you picture Sam, twenty-three and still bright-eyed, running his fingers down your bare back and scowling. I’m sick of surviving. One of these days, I want to actually live my life.

But that had been before the apocalypse, before Dean’s deal, before everything. Sam was a different man now. Hunting had reached into all three of you and ripped all sorts of things out, but you would never forgive it for taking Sam’s hope for something better. God, you missed that Sam. You missed him more than anything.

The city bus lumbers up to the curb and spits you out onto the sidewalk, where you superstitiously hover, waiting for the other passengers crawling away from their night shifts to scatter. It’s only when the bus is a dark spot in the mist down the street that you start to walk, your whole body caked head to toe with oily rain. 

This time, you take a random left toward your apartment and serpentine street-to-street, never walking the exact same way the same week. By the time you’re closer to where the bus could’ve actually dropped you off, the lingering smell of old research books has been practically power-washed out of your clothes. You try to think of anything but the freezing, biting, face-stinging rain… and, like a moth to a flame, your mind floats back to Sam.

It’s been over two weeks since he dropped the nuclear option. Over two weeks ago, Sam wanted to say yes to Lucifer, and over two weeks have passed since the massive, unstoppable-force-meets-immovable-object fight that’d erupted as a result.

Dean had blown up. Sam had pushed. You’d burst into tears and clawed into Sam just as deep, because why, why would he ever go there—why would that even be a fathomable possibility in his mind? Did he really think so low of himself? How could he ever give up like that? How could he leave you—?

The worst part was easily the way Sam had reacted. With Dean or John, he could yell himself hoarse, but when it came to fighting you all he could do was sit and take it. He put his head down and nodded at everything you said, even the cruel things. In some ways it made you angrier, but also inconceivably, cosmically guilty. This was Sam’s choice. And of course, because this was Sam, his choice was to save the whole goddamn world. Not a single bone in your body carried that level of selflessness, yet Sam bled the stuff.

You were still furious with him, but only because being mad at him was the only option you had left. The right thing to do would be to tell Sam, I trust you to make this decision, this is your life, and let him take that jump… But you didn’t have it in you. Saying that felt like pushing him over the ledge yourself, or telling him you’d never cared about him in the first place. If you were angry at least you were still fighting for him in some way.

You’d been on board for everything—trying to find a way out of Dean’s deal, trying to kill Lilith, everything. But the argument with Sam had torn out the final piece of you that could stand this, so you packed a bag, told Dean you’d be in a strict research-only role, and booked it back to your hometown. It was cowardly and stupid and beyond selfish, but you knew your stance. The hunt had taken everything from you. You refused to let it take Sam, too.

Maybe, Sam would take you stepping away as a serious sign to change his mind. You couldn’t imagine a world where Sam and his Winchester stubbornness would ever do that, but. It was a nice wish to hold onto.

By the time you make it up the steps to your apartment building, you’re soaked to the bone and audibly making pathetic shivering sounds. Your bookbag feels heavier than ever, digging a trench into your shoulder as you fish around for your keys. The second your apartment door is open the true weight of your exhaustion hits you—

—and then utterly disappears, replaced by a shock of pure adrenaline.

There’s a new pair of boots by your front door.

You catch the heavy door before it goes swinging against the doorjamb, straining your ears against the ringing silence. The bedside lamp is on in your room.

On dead-quiet feet, you slip in, click the door shut behind you, and slip off your bookbag. Your angel blade is in your hand in a second, but you risk a few extra steps toward your kitchen table to wiggle loose the pistol you taped underneath. Just the weight of your weapons in your hands flicks the hunter muscle memory back on in your body, and before you can think you’re hiding in the shadow beside your bedroom door. Listening.

Soft breathing. The pages of a book turning.

You know, instinctively, who it is—you would know him dumb and blind and dead. But these days, anybody could be piloting his body around.

You suck in a deep breath through your nose, heart throbbing in your ears. You wait until the fingers on your gun aren’t shaking anymore, then burst inside the room, slamming the door into the wall and whipping your pistol up to eye level.

Sam’s head flinches towards you. He is exactly as you saw him two weeks ago; solemn, determined, and open, the air around him practically steaming with safety and goodness. He’s sat comfortably on your bed, reading a book he brought with him. Despite everything, your belly still curls with butterflies when you lay eyes on him. Sam. Definitely Sam, and no one else.

Still, your paranoia has gotten you this far. You both stare at each other for a beat, equal parts scared out of your minds and relieved. Without a word, you keep your gun trained on him, and Sam lets you, his eyes big and understanding. You shuffle sideways to your dresser, and without turning away from him, pop open the top drawer and toss him the silver flask of holy water you keep hidden inside. 

He catches it. So, not a shapeshifter, then. Sam takes a drink of the holy water, even turning to the side so you can see the water go into his mouth. (A demon in Missouri had slipped past the three of you by pretending to sip—only Sam would know that.) You’re still a little terrified, but you manage to pull your weapons back down to your sides. You still don’t know what to say.

He’s really here. The part of you that had worried the argument with Sam would be your last wails with joy. He’s here, alive and in front of you. No matter how awkward you feel you can’t bring yourself to stop staring at him. By the buttery light of your bedside lamp, he literally glows with beauty, and you realize he’d scrubbed his boots off on your welcome mat to not track mud in, and he’d hung up his rain-soaked jacket in your shower to dry. Stupid polite Sam things.

You dare to glance back at your kitchen, then swivel to squint at him. “Did you… do my dishes?”

Sam lets his hands relax into his lap and nods, shy. He’s looking at you in a way he never really has before, eyes big and soul-rending. “…Yeah. I used the key you gave me to get in… Hope that’s okay.”

There’s another long pause. Usually when you stare at Sam, he doesn’t stare so intensely back, but you share a weird mutual moment where you just stand there and take each other in. It’s so obvious it’s painful, but if he’s doing it then you feel entitled to devour him with your eyes too.

“I got, uh, bored. Waiting for you,” Sam clarifies. “Thought I’d make myself useful.”

Sam stands from the bed. For a second you think he’s heading straight for you, but he moves toward the dresser behind you, kindly tucking the holy water back where it was stowed. You flit out of his way as fast as you can and set your weapons down on the closest available surface, feeling off-kilter. Why would he come here? Is he going to tell you that he changed his mind?

You hold onto the question, but you know it’s too out of character to hope for. Despair sinks into your gut like a rock in a pond. You know why Sam’s here. He would never make this decision without telling you first—without at least saying goodbye in person.

Your throat locks up with tears.

Behind you, Sam hums, “You changed your hair.”

Right. You’d altered it to be more undercover. You resist the urge to reach up and play with your hair, or give in to any of the fluttery feelings you always feel around Sam. “It’s safer.” Tightly, you ask him, “What are you doing here?”

Sam drags a long breath through his nose. You clutch the end of your bookshelf, your chest crumpling with misery. Please don’t say it. Please, please, lie to me if you have to.

“...I’m not taking the jump,” Sam breathes.

There’s more that he says after that. He talks about how you and Dean are right, and how, surely, after everything that the three of you have been through, there’s got to be another way to end this. You’ve always found another way in the past. Sam explains all this to you in a sure, quiet voice, like this is something he’s thought about for a long time, but you barely hear him after those first words. There’s this persistent tension in your chest that’s telling you that there’s something wrong here, but you don’t care—you don’t give a single fucking shit, because Sam—Sam isn’t saying yes. Sam’s staying.

“…are other ways I can make up for the mistakes I made,” he’s telling you, scrambling to fill the nagging silence.

You take a moment to force back your tears, and Sam, nervously, keeps talking.

He swallows, trying to smile. “I-I would’ve called and told you, but something tells me you wouldn’t have picked up.”

When you’ve got your bearings back, you push away from your bookshelf and turn to face him. Your legs are so leaden that you feel as if you have to physically pick up your body and drop it down the other direction, but you manage it. “What… what made you change your mind?”

Sam gets one look at your face and wilts with guilt. He doesn’t answer your question in words—just shoves his hands in his pockets and stares down at his feet, then around your room, as if his reason was in the air with the two of you. In the apartment. His eyes flicker over you just once, and you understand. Seeing you leave really had scared him.

“Be careful,” you start to joke with him, “you start validating my childish reactions and we’re gonna have a whole new set of problems on our hands.”

Sam scoffs. “It wasn’t childish to run away.”

You raise an eyebrow at his word choice, which gets an honest-to-god laugh out of him. A real good Sam Winchester laugh, dimples and all. The last dregs of anxiety in your gut melt at the sound, and Sam reassures you, shrugging, “You needed to get out. In case you forgot, I kind of invented wanting to get out. I understand. I really do.”

You know that he does. That’s not exactly going to stop you from feeling guilty about ditching them, but at least it kicked some sense into him. God. For the last five or six years, your every moment had been spent with Sam and his brother. Even just a couple weeks without him had drained you, and having him back only makes those feelings more clear. Sam’s presence commands the space in a way that turns your shitty, undecorated bedroom into someplace magical, someplace good and safe and warm, and just seeing him standing there draws the ache out of your spine.

Your reach out for his sleeve. Somehow, he’s more real than ever, a tangible person instead of the memory you’ve chased for so long.

“You’re really not saying yes?”

Sam unwinds your hand from the fabric so he can hold it instead, your fingers scooped in his fingers. You’re given a firm squeeze and are hypnotized by him in an instant, the world narrowing down to this moment between just him and just you.

Sam looks into your eyes when he promises, “I’m not going anywhere.”

The tears you’d resisted before return in one big, merciless wave. You’re so tired and the rain was so fucking cold and you’re so sick of being scared that Sam, thank god, Sam, is everything you could possibly need. He’s not going anywhere. Before you can stop yourself you’re clutching him for dear life, shoving your face in his shirt and crushing his body against yours. These last few weeks have submerged you in survival mode, and you don’t realize how deep until Sam pulls you out of the current. He’s warm and dry, and when you inhale to sob he smells like a 24-hour-laundromat, the Impala, and home home home. You could’ve lost that. You could’ve lost him.

“Th-thank you,” you choke out at nothing in particular, “thank you.”

You’ve cried a lot this week, so there are not many tears left to shed. Still, Sam holds you through all of them, swaying back and forth with you and cooing in your ear. You hear him sniffling too. When you’re both all sobbed out, you pull back to tell him you love him, to remind him of all the things he needs to hear, but Sam strangely doesn’t let you. The second he feels you pull away he clutches you back against him, and you get the uneasy impression that you’ve been comforting him more than he’s been comforting you. His whole body’s shaking.

Sam hugs you for longer than he ever has before. It’s a little worrying, but you’ve both needed it so much that you don’t even complain.

After a while, Sam slips back, and in traditional Winchester fashion tries to play off his vulnerability. He’s always been a dead-silent crier, so you have zero way to gauge how bad things are until you see his face. He looks like he’d sobbed his heart out. Your shirt is still wet from the rain, but even then you can feel Sam’s tears soaking your shoulder. Saying anything about it will just embarrass him, though.

“...I-I, uh,” you lick the tears off your lips, mumbling, “I don’t know bout’ you, but I’m beat. Do you have somewhere you gotta be, or,” you add hopefully, “or can you stick around?”

This is the part where Sam will start coaxing you to drive back with him to where he and Dean are holed up, you’re sure of it. You’re already plotting in your head what to pack and what to take, but Sam never brings it up. He doesn’t worry about tomorrow yet.

He presses his lips together. “I was hoping I could stay here tonight, actually.”

This is an even better answer. You’re nodding before he’s even finished the thought, stroking your hand down his chest. It twists your gut in knots to see him like this, so you start to steer the conversation toward something more playful, something less daunting to think about.

“You’re lucky I like you then,” you smirk. Somehow, you manage to peel yourself out of his bubble and teeter toward your dresser, scrubbing the tears off your face. “Make yourself comfortable. I dunno about you, but I’m getting the fuck out of these work clothes, I’m freezing. Do you need anything to sleep in? I’ve got at least five years of your stolen shirts in here.”

You hear him ease himself down on the end of your bed again, but there’s no sassy retort, sly comment, or any sort of line about you and your stealing habits. Instead, sweet and simple, he says, “I’ll just sleep in this. You can have them.”

Okay. Weird.

Since he didn’t take the bait, you throw out another line and try again. This time, you kick off your shoes, open a drawer, and turn back to him with two of his shirts in hand. “Really?” You wave them teasingly in the air. “You sure?”

They are some of his best shirts, easy. You’re not a cheap thief. The first is a holey, feather-soft Red Hot Chili Peppers tee, and the second is a deep maroon Stanford sweater. He has so few artifacts from that time in his life that there’s no way he won’t want this one back. Right?

But Sam just gazes at you, his whole face soft and loving as he says, “You should wear the Stanford one. It looks good on you.”

Those old hot-shivery feelings for him seep down your spine, and you feel in real-time how your cheeks flood with heat. Damn, okay. Consider yourself wooed.

You’ve been down this road with Sam many, many times—enough to know when he’s flirting with you. The forbidden labels had never been thrown around, but. Well. Sam had been your first time, as well as the many other times after that.

He’s usually leagues more subtle than his brother, but for whatever reason he’s pouring it on by the truckload tonight. When you turn around he’s nothing but big, happy puppy eyes, waiting patiently for you at the end of the bed. (Like you’re his girlfriend. Like anything about this is normal at all, and you and Sam are going to tuck into bed together like it’s any other night). Fuck, you missed him.

The bathroom is only a few steps away, but this is Sam, so you decide to just throw on your pajamas right here. Your shirt is so wet that it hits the floor with a slap. It also takes some experience to wring yourself out of your denim-turned-cement jeans, so it’s not the sexiest show in the entire world. Still, Sam’s gaze traces sensual lines down your back. You would rather go to literal, actual hell than wear your bra for a minute longer, so the second you’re free of its death grip, a long happy sigh drains out of you. A similar dreamy sigh drains out of Sam. Dork.

“I will never get tired of that,” Sam murmurs. You expect to hear some kind of hunger there, but the timber of his voice bleeds with admiration and fondness.

There are very few ways to be a normal human being while Sam Winchester adores your nude body with his eyes. The best you can do is burst into flustered, giggly laughter and give him a good eyeroll, your entire face cooking like a stove burner.

“Alright, loverboy,” you scoff, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth and take my makeup off—”

“Can I help?” Sam asks.

You sputter out another laugh, confused. “You wanna brush my teeth for me?”

“No,” Sam shakes his head, smiling big, “Lemme take your makeup off for you.”

Okay. Weirder. But it’s sweet, and you like this side of him, so you decide to indulge his mood. “...Sure.”

You go about your night-time routine. Sam continues to be a weirdo, trailing you into the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe, and blinking slow endearing blinks at you as he… watches you brush your teeth. Just. Stands there, watching, utterly enamored with this little moment of domesticity with you. On the surface level you’re a little thrown off, but it falls under the category of Freaky Sam Things that made you catch feelings for him in the first place, so. You grin into your toothbrush the whole time.

When he’s satisfied by his little ogling fest, he drifts off to hunt around for your makeup wipes. Either you’re predictable or he knows you too well, because he finds them within seconds, and patiently sits back as you finish up your routine, watching you like you’ll disappear on him the moment he turns away. Click click, you feel inside you.

“Okay,” he says when you’re done. “Close your eyes.”

You do. You wait for the cool touch of the wipe on your face, but instead, Sam’s big, rough fingers find your chin and hold you still. It takes conscience effort to not melt into his touch like a cat in a square of sunlight. Your willpower is nothing on Sam’s, though, so you give in quickly, sinking into his hand and sighing through your nose. In gentle swipes, he cleans your face. It must be a nightmare of smeared mascara considering how you’d cried earlier… And yet Sam had still been so transfixed by you. He’s the fucking best.

Sam’s hand tilts your head from side to side to survey his handiwork. Pleased, he tosses the wipe in the trash and says, “There you go.”

You open your eyes and go to double-check his work in the mirror, but Sam hasn’t removed his hand from your chin, and you really, really don’t want him to. His thick thumb comes up and caresses under your lips. He looks at you like he loves you, and with all the honesty in the world, he utters, “...You are so pretty.”

…The only way for you to survive this is by throwing him a dry look. “You’re full of shit. What’s your game, Winchester?”

That earns you another authentic Sam laugh, along with a handsome boyish smile. “There’s no game. What are you talking about?”

You squint at him. Liar.

“This.” You gestured between the two of you, suspicious. “You’re mooning over me. Why are you mooning? Are you planning something?”

A ripple of discomfort rolls across Sam’s face, but it passes too fast for you to read. His hands go right back in his pockets and he leans into the doorframe again. “I’m just… happy we’re not fighting,” he confesses.

Oh. That makes sense. Sam hasn’t exactly made up with you like that before, but. These times change everyone. You ease up on your teasing and admit, “Me too.”

“I’m sorry for scaring you away,” Sam says, and far, far too seriously for your liking, he whispers, “I’m sorry for everything.”

Your answer slips right out of your mouth without hesitation. “I forgive you, stupid,” your brows furrow together. “And I’m sorry, too. I said some pretty shitty stuff back there.”

Sam wilts against the doorframe a little. “Nothing I didn’t deserve.”

A dull pulse of anger flares in your chest, which flickers out and dies not a second later. There’s so much you want to say to that.

It is so fucking unfair—biblically, cosmically unfair—that Sam, the good guy to end all good guys, thinks of himself this way. He is the kind of righteous they make saints out of. And yet he sits in your silly little bathroom in your shitty little apartment and gives you that look, the look that says, I deserve this and so much more. I deserve to rot in hell for all eternity. He gave you that exact look when he brought up saying yes. He gives it to you now, because Sam sees everything as a sin to serve penance for—freeing Lucifer from the cage and making you a little worried. He thinks he’s so evil, so beyond saving. It makes you want to get your fists in your shirt and just shake him. 

You’re good! You want to scream. Just for once in your life, listen to me! None of this is your fault!

There’s nothing you could say to him that would ever make him let go of his guilt. But, at the very least, you could help him forget about it for a while.

“You beat yourself up too much,” you scold. Then, softer, you add, “C’mere, Sammy.”

Sam does as told, planting himself right in front of you. God, he’s changed. You look him over with a bittersweet smile. He used to be so spindly. The last few years have filled him out, forcing his body into something ready for war. The hunt reached in and tore all sorts of things out of people, but you’d been wrong about what it’d ripped out of Sam. His optimism was still there, warm and humming in the tissue of his body, and just seeing it fills you with hope. He looks so different from the man you’d had all to yourself in that cabin, but you can feel that he’s still in there. He’s still your Sam.

You take his face in your hands, smoothing your thumbs into his dimples and quietly, needily rasping, “...Can I take care of you?”

Sam’s whole body shudders with relief. “Please, yes.”

The next few beats of this dance haven’t changed. Like always, Sam comes flying in with a big, smashing kiss that shatters any leftover barriers between you. You’re not Sam’s girlfriend and he’s not your boyfriend, but Sam makes you his with this kiss. (If only for a little while). Your noses mash together and his eyes squeeze shut and then everything is just Sam, Sam, Sam at every angle. His hands are at his sides then suddenly they’re all over you, taking two greedy handfuls of your waist under the Stanford sweater. He jams your hips against his and kisses you senseless, towering over you, surrounding you, so that when you pull back to gasp for breath your lungs are flooded with his familiar heady love potion.

Either he’s giving off some Poison Ivy-level pheromones, or your body is so familiar with these steps that it knows what comes after this kiss… because you’re instantly wet.

You realized a long time ago that you and Sam have sex a bit too often for it to be considered “casual,” but even if it was, Sam is not a casual kind of lay. After that first soul-stealing kiss, Sam stares you down like a four-course meal, spins you around, pushes you down chest-first onto the bathroom counter, drops to his knees—

—and shoves his face between your legs like it’s his goddamn job.

In the middle of all your surprised shrieking and squirming, Sam nuzzles his face into your panties and moans deep and bassy in his throat, “Yes.”

Like he’s won something. Like he’s been waiting weeks to do this. Holy fuck, you’ll never get tired of that.

The second you have even an atom of your reason back, you slap a hand over your mouth. Neighbors! Sam has already forgotten what neighbors are, and is holy-mission-from-god-determined to make you noisy. He’s extra hungry for it tonight, too. You squeak out his name, not so much in shock, but more because having those huge hands squeezing where your ass starts to round out tends to produce a reaction, and Sam rumbles like a lawnmower in approval. Holy fuck.

He doesn’t have to ask you to spread your legs. One of the hands appreciating your ass slides between your thighs, cupping you through your underwear, and you have to try not to squeal when the meaty pad of Sam’s thumb swipes across your clothed folds. He presses a big kiss in that exact spot as he drags your panties down your legs, and it’s a weirdly sweet gesture that makes your heart and your belly flutter with shivery heat. Fuck. Fuck, you missed him so much.

The first few times Sam had sprung this move on you, you hadn’t exactly had enough time to fully rev up. But Sam is deadly efficient in and out of the bedroom, so he makes a point to get you extra wet (for him) with his spit, laving his hot, slippery tongue over you in one long swipe. He eats you out with all the obscene, noisy enjoyment of somebody gorging on the juiciest fruit they’ve ever tasted. Even you are scandalized.

It becomes embarrassingly clear that covering your mouth isn’t going to keep Sam from what he wants. The high, desperate moan you try to stifle only makes him work harder. You press an arm flat to the counter and bury your face in it for strength, since you’re weak and whimpering for him already. 

Sam was good in bed when you met him. But, by nature, he is a relentless and avid learner, and it’s been five whole years since he put his mouth on you for the first time. Now, Sam is a certified pussy-eating weapon. He knows your body better than anyone possibly could. You’re over the edge in a minute flat.

Your climax flies through you in one whizzing, sparking rush, then keeps flying, until your body’s squeezing out little squeaky pleas for mercy of its own accord. This is his favorite part. You claw into the countertop and wail for it, pushing at the floor in your socks to gain any sort of leverage. To press closer? To squirm away? You have zero fucking clue, since the thought part of your brain has been blasted into a smoking crater. Sam wraps a big arm around your spasming thigh to pin you open, and holy fucking shit, could that man suck the chrome off a tailpipe. His mouth is a whirlwind of licking and suction just on the right side of oh fuck too much that makes your skin feel like it’s fizzing. You are a thread that he’s just pulling and pulling until you’re so thin you could snap into nothing—

You wait for the moment when Sam pops off you, stands up, and goes for his zipper, but he never does. He remains on the floor, determined to lick you through overstimulation and straight into round two. But that’s a whole minute you could spend with his dick inside you instead, and there’s no fucking way you’re wasting that. Not when he’s here and real and not going to say yes. Sam’s not going anywhere. He’s staying, he’s alive, and the world isn’t going to end tomorrow.

“No no no,” you bite out in one short, rattling breath. “S-Suh—Sam, please please—” An unexpected sob shreds out of you. “Miss you. Need you.”

You’re actually, genuinely crying, and not entirely in the fun sexed-out way. Sam backs up. He’s not even halfway standing when you wrench him up the rest of the way, straight into a desperate, maddening kiss. It’s a brutal cross of teeth and tongue. The need for body heat and skin and him burns through you like genuine bloodlust, so you cram yourself up against him with life-or-death urgency. You get your nails into him until you feel something like shirt fabric and viciously yank it over his head, waiting for the moment when he grabs your wrists or shoves you onto the bed o-or—or starts to blow off steam. Cause’ that’s what this is all about, right?

He drags your mouths apart. Sam pants, “Slow down.”

You stop.

This is. This is new.

There’s no slowing, with this. You both go and you keep going until there’s no more fuel in your tanks, and you crawl out of bed the next day feeling like you’ve beaten the rot out of each other. You’ve never once slowed down during this before, and as your wheels spin to a halt for the first time, reality filters back in around you.

Sam stares at you. His hair is all over the place. A patchy blush speckles up his heaving chest, burning in his ears and in his cheeks. Your slick shines on his lips and the bulb of his nose. He’s just standing there and fucking looking at you, but for whatever reason it feels like the color has seeped back into the world.

“S’okay. Gonna be okay,” Sam hushes, bleeding with sweetness.

He picks up your hands, moving you as if you were a delicate glass he was turning over in each palm. Each of your hands are kissed in the center (oh my fucking god) then wrapped around his neck, and when he has you in his bubble he scoops up your face and kisses you.

It’s a boyfriend kiss. Not a blowing off steam thing, or any other excuse the two of you have used to feel each other. A genuine, I’m your boyfriend and I love you sort of kiss, foreheads pressed together, noses touching, the whole nine yards. It’s the kind of kiss that’s meant to say something. Every inch of what he’s trying to tell you echoes through your body in one ringing smash, like you’re a big cymbal he’s taken a mallet to. 

He slips off your lips and hovers, bracing himself for impact. You suck in a rattling breath.

…Then you press up onto your tiptoes to give him a kiss of your own, just pressing your lips against his, unmoving. It’s undemanding; an answer. You try to find the words to describe the shift that’s occurred between you, and end up feeling stuttery and shivery and fucking elated. Romantic. It’s fucking romantic.

“Sammy,” you sob out.

“Shhh. C’mere,” Sam whispers, his voice throaty and whiskey smooth. “Lemme make it better.”

He tries to walk you straight back out of the bathroom and towards the bed, he really does, but you stop Sam every other step to overwhelm him with obsessed, affectionate kisses. God. His chapstick is all over your fucking mouth (along with your slick) and his hands are everywhere else, feeling instead of grabbing.

“You always do,” you breathe, and that might be the most honest thing you’ve ever said to him in bed.

Sam gets this quiet, pleased smile on his face. No matter how naked and turned-on you are, you’ve always got a snappy reply ready, and you’re about to throw one at him—until you’re fucking obliterated. He smoothes his palms down your arms. Your wrists are scooped up again. With all the tenderness on the planet, Sam slides in close, kisses your throat, and places both of your hands firmly on his belt.

“Take it off,” he rasps.

This. This isn’t the first time he’s given you that order. But knowing, feeling that he’s playing this all out like it’s more than a fling to him… that Sam’s gonna fuck you like you’re someone special to him… sweet jesus, it makes you lightheaded.

“Bossy,” your murmur, grinning.

You’re downright feverish going in to kiss him next. Sam parts your lips with a slow, sinful swipe of his tongue, and there must be a drop of psychic still in him, because suddenly you’re flooded with visions of that filthy mouth between your legs. You can still feel the ghost of him there, keeping you open with his thumbs as the blunt tip of his tongue pushes you somewhere vast and sparkly and wonderful. This is going to be even better.

He sounds like he’s praying when he says, “I just like to watch you.”

Muscle memory serves. You work his clasp open without peeking down and let it hang in his belt loops, mostly because it lets his jeans sling low on his hips in the most enticing way. His belly twitches at even the slightest touch of your hands; always so responsive. Sam drops his forehead on your shoulder to watch you work, and you take the rare opportunity to kiss the top of his head. This is one of your favorite parts. When his button is undone and his zipper’s down, you’re free to smooth your hand under his waistband and take a big handful of him.

You reach in and—squeeze. Sam’s hand snaps up to clutch your arm. His nails dig in, and he rocks forward onto his tiptoes to really dig into your touch. “Yes.”

It’s the kind of soft, needy sound that makes you want to smother him with kisses and hug him until he suffocates. Instead, you cooly purr into his hair, “So sensitive, Sammy.”

A hoarse, sharp laugh snaps out of him, which dissolves into a shuddering groan. You tug at his jeans until they’re somewhere you don’t care about anymore, and forget about everything else entirely at the sight of his cock. All these years of sneaking around with him have conditioned you. Just seeing the pretty speckling of dark hair that leads to it, then the real deal, hanging blood-hot and heavy between his legs, makes your tummy flip and your mouth water. One of a million embarrassing Sam-reactions you’ll have to bring to your grave.

You take his cock in your hand, trying to swallow back the slutty amount of saliva in your mouth. Sam whimpers. A real, desperate sound, with his nails stinging down your arms and everything.

“Know you wanted to slow down,” you struggle between open-mouthed pants, “b-but—can’t—don’t wanna wait—”

Sam physically curls towards you, his hips seizing into your hand and his arms hooking around your shoulders. You’re dragged in for a sloppy kiss so deep you swear it melds your souls together. Sam is just as affected, rumbling like a racecar in approval.

“Then don’t.” He begs.

If this was any other night, Sam would just take. You’d be face down and drilled halfway through the mattress by now, no preamble, all business. He got off and you got off and everyone was happy that way. Sam would want the room dark and you would hide your face in the bedding, the two of you eager to touch and experience but terrified of breaking the illusion. He’s so generous that you suppose he’s got to have at least one place in life where he’s selfish, and you’re happy to be his outlet for it, but.

You’ve never seen him take this way before.

He looks at you and he never really stops, transfixed. You don’t doubt you could walk in a circle around him and Sam’s eyes would follow you the whole way, his gaze oozing with longing and something else—resolution? Faith? You push him onto the bed, and he drops down as if hobbling into a pew for the first time, unsure how to clasp his hands in prayer because it’s only ever been something done in his head before.

You stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do next.

“God,” Sam utters, spellbound. 

You’re blushing so hard that you forget to be sexy as you crawl into his lap, but Sam doesn’t care, still giving you those big slow doe blinks to express his love. It’s so different from the Sam you know (yet also so deeply, deeply him) that you forget what it means to be sexy entirely. He coaxes you closer to plant tender kisses under your chin, and the plan to seductively peel off your sweater for him and flash him your tits blips out of existence.

You wait for the moment when Sam shreds the Stanford sweater off you. Instead, those wonderful fucking hands tease under the hem to squeeze your waist, and Sam croaks out between kisses, “Should wear this all the time. You’re beautiful in anything, but this… you’re… mmn.”

Your heart gives a pathetic flutter. You press mindless kisses against his mouth and rock your bare core down on his lap, because he’s never acted this way before and you don’t know how else to return the favor. “Not nearly as beautiful as you, Sammy.”

The only reaction you get from him is a single huff out of his nose, like it’s something he can’t commit a whole laugh to. Like none of that matters anymore, like it would never matter for Sam, because his body may be beautiful, but it hardly belongs to him anymore. God, you’re shitty at compliments.

You’re fucking wonderful, you suddenly want to tell him. A whole swarm of little truths and sweet nothings roars straight up to the surface of your mind, a whole sea of better things you could say to him, but then one of those perfect hands is slipping between your legs and Sam’s asking you in that perfect, tinted glass voice, “You still on the pill?”

“Yes, doctor,” you tease.

Another flood of sticky heat rushes between your legs, because that question is always a precursor to being pressed into and filled and stuffed end-to-end by Sam’s dick. The one barrier that doesn’t—didn’t exist between you.

“Good,” Sam sighs, relieved, grateful. He never turned down going raw in the past, but he’s downright starved for it right now. Closer closer closer, his whole body begs.

You’re tugged in by a big hand hooked around your back, and you fall right into Sam’s summer-warm, sweat-sticky chest, giggling. He loops both arms around your middle and teddy-bear squeezes even more laughter out of you. The only way to hold yourself up is by planting two hands on his shoulders… which turns into his cupping his neck… then caressing his face, because it’s impossible to be witness to that quiet boyish grin and not shower him in affection. There’s all these little freckles on him that you can only see up close. He feels good, mystical good, prophetic-chosen-one type good.

This is the moment. You can feel the blood in your body pounding between your legs, and Sam’s cock bumps not-so-innocently against your core as you kiss one another. Every shift of his hands sends your muscles clenching tight, bracing for impact, but Sam doesn’t push into you just yet.

Your confusion must be clear on your face, because he says, “Just let me feel you for a second.”

And, obviously, you’re not an idiot, so you let Sam feel you for as long as he pleases. For the next ten uninterrupted minutes, you makeout like lovesick teenagers, whimpering and sighing and swallowing every sound the other makes. You’d always pegged him as a romantic. But seeing it, feeling it, adds a whole new dimension to him you hadn’t realized you’d been craving.

By the time the pool of need in your gut has opened up into a blackhole, Sam has caressed or squeezed or kissed every part of you ten times over. He continues to be weird and obsessed with you. (So still in character, then). Sam even pinches the ends of your ears and smooths his thumbs over the bumps of your ankles, being sexy about it but also a little terrifying. He touches you like he’s never gonna see you again.

Around the time that Sam starts suckling marks into your neck and trying to tickle you under your arms, you giggle out, “O-Okay—okay! Enough—!”

“Enough what?” Sam cocks his head. His hand makes another dive for your belly, making you shriek and squirm with more giggles. You try to wriggle away to protect your tickling sides, but Sam’s too strong and you’re a little in love with him, so it’s easy for him to pull you flush against him and blow tingly-warm breaths beside your ear. He purrs, “You need it that badly?”

“Fucking yes! So quit torturing me,” you pant, and you’re pretty sure this grin is going to get stuck on your face.

Sam’s smile gets even bigger. “Only if you say please.”

Your attitude slips from your grip like water. Next time, you’ll play push and pull with him, but right now there needs to be a lot more pushing and pulling in a different context.

The words are out of your mouth in an instant. “Please, Sam.”

As reluctant as he is to stop teasing you, Sam’s a little in love, too. He leans back enough to fist his cock in one hand, and you can’t help how your breath hitches when Sam’s touch follows the curve of your ass to where you’re soaked and sensitive for him. Those thick, maddening fingers spread you open. The velvety tip of his cock finds your hole right away, and your legs nearly give out when Sam starts to swipe himself up and down your folds one dizzying stroke at a time. Back…. and forth. Up… and down. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Okay, fine…” He concedes, his eyes glittering with joy. “You’re just so cute when you act all tough.”

Maybe not all of your attitude is gone. You bark out a laugh, telling him, “I hate you.”

Sam presses down for the last time, then presses in. You don’t mean to look into his eyes when he fills you up, and that’s probably what does you in. Sam’s rosy face flutters and twists with pleasure, but he never stops looking at you, not even once, terrified to miss even a small moment. The long hitching moan that slips out of you makes his whole face darken with desire. You’re pulled onto him deeper and deeper and deeper until—click. Cue the angel choir.

Your fingers dig desperately into his hair. Sam curls into you in one slow pulling movement, a thread pulled taut, until his face is stuffed in your neck and his hands are mindlessly scrabbling down your back.

“God, I love you,” he moans.

Soon your pussy feels achy and hair-trigger-sensitive and beyond full, which could mean that you’re all the way on him. It’s impossible to tell, since the first full minute of having Sam’s dick inside you sends you straight to the moon every time, where everything falls in peaceful slow-motion and the whole world hums with cosmic, sparkling pressure. You shove your face into him and nuzzle in a daze, little ripples of electricity sparking up your spine.

…Wait.

“What?” You register, slow.

Sam is still clutching you for dear life, even if the moment’s slowed and you’re both comfortable. He hugs you full-bodied, nose in your neck, tilted forward, the kind of hug where he sways you side to side with joy. Sam sucks in a harsh breath. Can’t hold back anymore.

“I love you,” he gushes. The words burn out of him, declarative, overjoyed.

There’s so much you want to say to that. But then Sam digs his fingers into your ass and pulls you off his lap, only to gloriously sink you down the rest of the way, and. Fuck fuck fuck. His cock drags thick and hot against the pliant walls of your pussy. You couldn’t be any more full if you tried, clamping down on him with long, silky ripples of pressure that outline the shape of him inside you in obscene detail. It’s the kind of mind-blowing that’s beyond comprehension, beyond feeble human understanding. Your eyes squeeze shut and you whimper into his hair.

“God, I love you,” he chants again through grit teeth. “So much. So fucking much.”

You find his face with your hands and kiss him quiet, tasting the promise in his mouth. When you part and the two of you really start to move, you kiss him again, and again, whispering where only he can hear, “I-I love you too.”

It should scare you how easily the confession slips out. You should be terrified, because even if you live to see next week, or next month, or next year, even if Sam isn’t saying yes to Lucifer, those words are a death sentence. And yet.

“I-I miss you,” you choke out, “I need you.”

“Me too. So much,” Sam soothes, his voice tight and sharp with restraint. You know his instinct is to jackhammer up into you and never stop, but he puts in effort to resist, letting you both marinate in the wonderful, glistening, twitchy feeling of each other. His hands are rubbing your back and he is so fucking warm, turning the rain outside to steam.

He doesn’t bounce you on his dick. It’s more of a slow, cresting drag, waves stroking a beach. You don’t think you could handle much more than that, anyway—sometimes these positions make him feel big enough to pop you like a balloon. What you can’t fit on your own, your weight pushes you down onto anyway, turning your whole body into a big expanding bubble of pressure ready to burst at any moment. You clutch at his shoulders and just throb around him for a second.

“Nuh-uh,” Sam leans away, not letting you shove your face in him like you want. Instead, a big hand cups one side of your neck and keeps you in front of him. “Wanna see your face. Look at me. Look at me,” he insists, genuinely pleading.

When your eyes find his, that’s when he decides to snap up into you for real. You don’t even get a full look at him. The arm slung around your waist drags you up off your wobbling knees, then slams you down into a beautiful, endless white space popping with color.

“Sammy!” You choke.

That’s the magic word. You’re instantly thrust up into four more lightning-fast times, one-two-three-four, and hitch out four squeaky gasps to match. Sam’s eyes bore into yours with every beat, blazing with liquid love. For a second you wonder if you’ve fallen back into your rough routine again. But then words and thoughts melt out of your brain altogether, because Sam draws you into the tenderest, sweetest kiss human beings are capable of, fucking into you deep and smooth with that deeper, smoother voice, “Keep saying that.”

Sammy Sammy Sammy, you rattle out under your breath. Sam hisses out your name the exact same way.

You do your best to help him out a little, bobbing up and down in his lap, but’s a drop of water in the ocean for him. All Sam cares about is seeing your reaction. He soaks up everything you do like a sponge, moaning when you moan, gritting his teeth when you bite your lip, grinding up as you stir down. The weight of his eyes on you is so heavy that your skin stings in its wake. Again, it’s Sam’s brand of freak-sweetness that makes you get stupid notions in your head about wedding rings and anniversary presents. But that’s—

…something he knows about. Something he just said to you five minutes ago. Above the haze of bouncing, rhythmic pleasure, you’re flooded with relief. You can tell him! Holy fuck, you can tell him!

“I love you,” you gasp out again, and just saying it feels like it could save the world. “O-oh, god, Sam—”

The breath you have left is stolen from you by another fierce kiss from him, so passionate it lets you taste the bassy, happy hum that rumbles in Sam’s throat. You’re devoured by feverish kisses for a full minute, then Sam pops off you to sob, “So much—so fucking much, yes.”

He slips a hand between the two of you to thumb your clit, stirring in and never once stopping. Every so often he’ll brush up against where you’re hot and filled to the hilt with him, your bodies sliding together with slick, filthy noises that are so—so fucking much that your thighs cramp up, protesting the constant pistoning. But the pleasure is easily worth the burn. Your core booms with long echoes of pleasure that shudder through the trembling spiderwebs that make up your nerves. You make a move to lean back on your hands and switch up the angle, (since you’re a damn good cowgirl, thank you very much), but Sam refuses to stop kissing you. He physically pulls you back in with a hand fished around your neck and kisses you breathless, determined to pound you to your climax one thorough snap of his hips at a time.

“So beautiful,” Sam gushes. His voice is hoarse and thready, like he’s moments away from bursting into tears of pure desire.

You smooth your hands down his flushed cheeks, telling him between huffy moans, “It’s okay, s’ okay, Sammy… so pretty… love you so much…”

You feel him pull the Stanford sweater up over your ass and out of his way, exposing more, more, more of your bare skin for him to touch. Sam palms the slope of your back and your belly in a daze, but that’s still not enough—he’ll never be satisfied with how little of you he’s had. He wants more. He wants forever. You embrace each other to the fullest, cheeks smushed together, chests flush, his parted lips claiming your throat, making you his—but. Sam’s breath ratchets up. Not enough not enough not enough—

In one ragged motion, Sam rolls you both over, tossing you back-first onto the bedding and smothering you with his weight.

A squeal of delight jumps out of you. “Hey!”

If Sam wasn’t all over you before, then he literally is now, dropping onto his elbows so he can cup your face in both hands and surround you completely. “Sorry,” he croaks, “need you. Need to fill you up.”

You whisper against his lips, “Then fill me up already.”

His thumbs press into your cheeks a little. Sam’s breath fans across your face, throttled by the lump in his throat.

“Tell me you love me again.”

Um. You don’t exactly have the sexy heat of the moment to hide behind this time, but you still want to say it for him. His eyes swim with something unreadable. Desire and love, enough love to put a lump in your throat too, but a third thing also. It worries you.

You bring your hands up to stroke his wrists, and give a bit too much of your soul to him when you promise, “...I love you, Sam.”

The words hit him like a bullet. Sam shudders from head to toe, unable to reign himself in any longer, and plants a long, surging kiss on your mouth that makes your belly flash with nuclear levels of lust. He squirms his hands underneath your body so he can cradle you against him—genuinely cradling, one palm cupping the back of your neck—and then burrows into you face-first, groaning your name as his cock nestles itself as deep as it can go.

With all of his weight on top of you, you couldn’t move if you wanted to. You caress and kiss and dig your nails into him, and somewhere along the way you’re given a dose of whatever has made him fucking insane for you right now. It fogs your head and turns your reason to ash, so when Sam returns to ruining you for any other man, you whimper, “Please don’t leave me.”

“Oh, baby,” Sam hiccups out, and something strange hangs in his voice.

You would ask him what’s wrong, but the shuddering, flimsy scraps left of your brain are busy being blasted all over by white-hot pleasure. Everything scorches. Sam’s bare skin and his breath and his hands feel fucking molten, melting you down like hot glass. You’re pinned down in every possible way, and it pushes the sinking, gorgeous pressure inside you all over your body, like it’s not just Sam’s cock filling you up, but him, just him, the source of all good in the world. Holy fucking fuck. His hips glide back and then thud back into you again and again and again. You get why it’s called making love, now. You can taste your love for him in the back of your throat, feel it sitting in a sticky film on your skin. It hangs like humidity in the air of your apartment. And jesus christ, it bleeds from Sam, glowing off him like fucking radiation.

When you’re shamelessly wailing gut-deep in ecstasy, Sam peels himself off you. He forces himself to sit up. His chest putters up and down with desperate little breaths, and a gloriously big hand scoops under your thigh and welds it against your chest. Whatever he sees from this new angle—probably your wet, abused pussy stretched tight around the full base of his cock—makes Sam gape, utterly transfixed. You watch as his mouth falls open, and then those dark, soul-swallowing eyes crawl up your body to meet yours.

“Keep lookin’ at me,” Sam rasps.

Even if he doesn’t sway your opinion with a few dizzying, stomach-deep drags of his cock, (which he does), you’re convinced. You lock eyes with him—and then suddenly feel stupid for not watching him the whole time. A long curl of hair hangs in his eyes and sways as he fucks into you. His expression flutters with these sinful little giveaways, exposing just how starved he is for you, how in love. Maybe if you’d looked back sometime in the past five years, that’s what you would’ve seen: how much this has always meant to him. He searches your face for the same pleasure, obsessed with his effect on you. 

“Fuck,” you shudder out. “C-could cum just watchin’ you, Sammy.”

“That’s right,” he hisses, and you’ve never heard him sound so damn happy. “Cum for me. Please. Look so pretty when you do.”

Usually, when he makes you cum, it’s the roughest part of the whole act. He’d get both your wrists pretzeled behind your back and pinned viciously in one of his hands, and that’s when you’d know the big finish was coming. His pace would go from bouncing to bruising. But this Sam, your Sam, would stop time if he could, so he slows down even further, winding you closer and closer to the top of the mountain with little figure-eights of his hips. He gazes down at you the same way you’re sure you must gaze up at him. Beautiful, he murmurs under his breath.

You utter another, tight, almost-sob of, “love you so much, Sammy,” and his dick twitches wildly shoved in you to the hilt.

“Ohh—shit,” he chokes out, and his other hand snaps desperately towards yours on the bed. They find each other easily, and you squeeze his hand with everything you’ve got, infusing in him all the love he’s infused in you.

The slow, mounting tsunami of perfection you’ve been moving towards finally overcomes you, and in one long gorgeous slippery rush you cum for Sam. And because your life is a movie—he cums for you too. He rocks faster and falls forward to kiss you, your faces pressed together, your mouths slotting against each other, your pussy squeezing down on him in golden rippling strokes. Sam hisses your name out between his teeth as he cums. You’re lanced straight through by a whole fucking universe of fluttering, flickering pleasure. To be honest, you’re a little pissed about it—because it’s the best fucking orgasm you’ve had in your entire life, and it’s all because Sam raggedly chants those words to you again and again, laying sloppy, obsessive, head-over-heel kisses all over your face. Love you love you so much baby you feel so good squeezin’ down on me.

You could’ve had this ages ago. How much more time could you have had with him, if you had just stopped being stupid?

Sam’s crazed, sobbing, hitching I love yous somehow become, in true Sam fashion, a low spiral of thank yous. He lays there and clutches you until there’s a Sam-shaped imprint in your body. You’re pretty sure he would stay inside you all night if he could, but you coax him into some cuddling instead, since you both are in desperate need. It’s. It’s new, but it feels cleansing in the holy way.

What feels like hours later, your brain dimly connects to the rest of your body. You’re halfway through detangling Sam’s hair with your fingers as he hides face-first in your chest, pretending he’s not embarrassed that he cried. At least, that’s what you assume. The Winchester mind is a mysterious one, and as much as you would hope to know what Sam’s thinking, the slow hand drawing circles on your hip tells you nothing. Is he shy that he got emotional? That seems silly, since you both sobbed into each other earlier. Is he embarrassed about everything he confessed? Does he regret it?

Just when your train of thought really starts to take the curves of your spiral hard, Sam tiredly croaks into your neck, “I meant what I said, y’know.”

He draws in a lungful of your perfume through his nose, soaking up as much of you as he can possibly get. His hands smooth over your body, innocent and loving, caressing you, memorizing you, begging silently for forgiveness. 

Sam is a dead-silent crier. But you hear him sniffle as he gushes, “God, I love you.”

Maybe if you hadn’t been so tired, you would’ve picked up on it. Or maybe you’d heard it in his voice, seen it, something, and ignored it, hoping it was something else. Everything he felt, he put into a teeny, unmarked box that he’d bury god knows where, far from where anybody could be hurt by it. Sam didn’t—he wouldn’t say that to you. Not unless it was the last time he ever could. He would feel it, but it’d go right into that box where it couldn’t hurt you. You should’ve known.

Lie to me, you’d begged him. 

…And Sam had.

_

The dull realization that you are awake sets in around noon. Noon as in after-noon, well past when you’re normally up and at em’. When you wonder why the hell you slept in so late, you remember last night’s rain, thrashing against the windows all night, and Sam, his face haloed by lamplight and bleeding with quiet resolution.

Sam. Alive, and not going to say yes.

He’d been the one to keep you up all night. With his mouth and his hands, yes, but then afterward he’d been hellbent on talking. Just… talking. You’d been sluggish and cozy and sated after having sex, but no matter how close you came to falling asleep, Sam wouldn’t let it happen. For two straight hours he asked you every question he could come up with to keep you up with him.

Do you remember when we met? Cause’ I do. Do you remember what I said to you? Do you remember what you thought about me? I remember thinking how similar we were, y’know, how much we’d get along. You were so pretty… my whole face went red every time you looked at me. Do you remember…?

Being cuddled, kissed, and protected by the man you love really tempts a girl to doze off, too, so this was not an easy battle. But Sam persisted. He studied your face intently, uttering I love yous even when sleep started to pull you under. Hearing any Winchester drop those words on you still blew your fucking mind, to be honest. Sam especially. But it was romantic as it was worrying, so you’d shut him up with a kiss goodnight and echoed it back to him. Love you, Sammy. It was probably just an anxiety thing, you assumed—Sam, for some fucking reason, was a pretty insecure guy, so you imagined that was his way of making sure you wanted all of this. He seemed… scared. He wasn’t used to being wanted.

The apocalypse was still on. Maybe the world would end tomorrow, or maybe you’d get lucky and live a whole lifetime with Sam. Regardless, he’s never saying yes to Lucifer, and that alone means that there’s still hope for the future. You’re going to spend every second of it making Sam feel wanted.

Sitting up in bed, you scrubbed at your sleepy face with the heel of your hand and stared around the room. Sam was physically incapable of staying asleep after five in the morning, so the familiar evidence of his military-efficient morning routine was all over the place. You smiled to yourself. He’d picked up after the two of you, and had tucked another blanket over you in your sleep. Stupid chivalrous dumbass.

To think, you’d been terrified you’d never see him again just last night.

You push out of bed, only to almost buckle onto the carpet rag-doll style. Even being torturously gentle, that man manages to make you sore. With a very, very happy groan, you hop (and wince) into some clean underwear, then traipse out into your kitchen to show that dork who’s boss.

“Dammit, Samuel, you’re not my maid—” you start to say, but of course, this is Sam, who wouldn’t miss a morning run for anything. Right. That explains your empty kitchen.

…But it’s afternoon. Sam would be back by now. Your gut prickles with a bad feeling, and you superstitiously sweep your apartment, looking for him. His clothes from last night are still sitting in your hamper, his shirt folded neatly in your dresser and his watch on your nightstand. A spike of nausea rolls through you seeing that his jacket is gone—and his boots. But his duffle—it’s. It’s still on your kitchen table. It looks a little smaller than usual, but his books and his laptop are still inside. He probably just ran out to run some silly errand for you, determined to make up for worrying you so much. Yeah.

You force your hunter’s paranoia down to a simmer, padding over to your breakfast table. There’s a big ol’ note smack dab in the center of it, perched on his half-open duffle bag, and you start to play with one of the bracelets Sam left behind as you pick it up.

You cross your fingers, smiling ear-to-ear. “C’mon. All bets on breakfast. Please be getting me breakfast, please be getting me breakfast—”

…That’s not what the note says.

You read it.

Then you read it again, and the hammer falls, crushing the breath out of you and doubling you over the kitchen table. You read the note for the third time, needing to be sure, and the thin sliver of hope you had—maybe you’d just read it wrong, m-maybe he was fine—turns to ash. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t.

You’re fighting back a surge of ugly, choking tears in an instant. He’s… Sam… he…

Your whole apartment lingers with the heat and goodness of him, like he’d been here just minutes ago. Just seconds. Even your clothes still smell like Sam. Just inhaling it tears chunks out of your reason, like—like you’d just missed him. Clawing around for something to do, you pace in a daze between your bedroom and the front door, desperate to recreate the moment you realized he was gone. You’re still just in the Stanford sweater and your underwear, but you don’t give a single shit and go careening out into the hall, stalking up and down your floor for him—because, b-because Sam wouldn’t, he wouldn’t do that to you—he would tell you first, he would never leave you in the dark like this—

…But you know Sam. And if it meant fixing his mistakes, saving you, saving everyone… Then he’d say yes in a heartbeat.

“These belong to you. You deserve a world to live in. I’m sorry - Sam.”

- tags: @samssluttybangs @cookiemumster1@lacilou@cevans-winchester @leigh70@ seraphimluxe @emily-roberts @emme-looou @aloneatpeace @williamstop @ornella0910 @chaoticshepardplaid @dakota-dream @lcvecstiel @goghkiss @spnexploration @stoneyggirl2 @urm0mmmbbg @mulattomoon @poeticsorcery @deansapplepie @rennydenny @babydollfoster @badlandsbrunette @hallecarey1

[cokou]

—PAPERS?! A sequel

༄ ғᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ➢ One Piece ༄ ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ ➢ Law x Fem!Reader ༄ ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ➢ NSFW // Smut // MDNI! ༄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴅɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ ➢ Doggy style, Teasing, Porn w/ Plot, Body worship, Argument (slight), name calling (good girl), Shit Writing, & Law doesn't know which one to do, you or his papers. ༄ ᴀ/ɴ ➢ Do not transfer my works to any other platforms // this is my only account, will not be cross posted to any other sites or apps! Also MDNI, NSFW Content ahead <3

—It had been a while since you've joined the heart pirates, upon you joining, you noticed that their captain was eyeing you. It almost felt like he was fucking you with his eyes.

It hadn't been long as well since you, and your captain, Law, had started dating.

Since then, not only have you received tons of gifts, but was also showered in love. He shows his love by giving you flowers, picking one from the bouquet he will give you, and keeping it in his office to know when to buy you another one.

That isn't all, but the way he shows his love for you on his bedroom, slowly teasing you and then doing God's work all over your body.

It felt like heaven. That was the only word to express it. Once or twice a week, he takes his loving time with your body, ensuring that no parts of you were left out. It happens in all places where he usually indulges in.

Just like his office, or maybe the Polar Tang's library, or if he just wants to ravage you do bad, it happens inside your shared bedroom.

You couldn't forget it all. The way his tongue laps all over your wet cunt and devouring you as long as he can, or maybe, the way his hips thrusts slow, yet so deep inside you, leaving you wanting for more.

He never fails to make you cum, no. He always makes sure that you've been pleasured before him.

But—, it felt different today, this week was almost ending, yet, Law hadn't payed much attention to you. He goes home much later, and lays down and drifts off on the couch instead of your shared bed.

You didn't pay attention as you thought that, this habit would leave. But God were you wrong. It has been a month, yet you still payed attention on how he slops down on the couch right after entering the door.

You had tried reaching out to him on the library, but he just gave you empty words such as, 'sorry' or 'i was busy'. It's not like you could ask Bepo or Penguin for help, it would feel like you're desperate.

It had been 3 weeks since then, yet he showed no change with his behavior. You were starting to think that he didn't love you anymore.

So the next day, you decided to try and end all of this bullshit he's doing, you waited for him to open the door and talk to him about his stupid behavior. You had faith that maybe you two would get to talk with each other and sort it out.

But now, you've been sitting at the couch for nearly 3 hours. You checked the clock, almost 3 am.

Suddenly, you heard the knob twist, followed by the door opening.

"I thought you decided to not go home, Law." You said in an annoyed tone.

He ignored you as he started to remove his coat and hanged it on the coat rack, you were thinking that maybe he didn't hear you, but your voice was well enough to be heard by the whole room.

"ehem, I'm talking to you."

"Sorry not right now I'm tired, Y/N." His excuses were lame.

"You're always tired. You don't even have time for me anymore!" You blurted in front of him as he placed everything on the ground, some of his papers spilling onto the floor.

"Let's not start this Y/N, I told you I'm tired." He faced you with a straight face then sat on the other side of the couch.

Although you didn't want to start a fight, his lack of attention to you is making you feel like a total shithead.

"Tired this, tired that, Make better excuses other than being actually 'tired'. It's not like you actually have to do everything in a day!" Now, you're actually starting to get annoyed.

He looked at you, now with a confused look.

"Sigh. Just because I don't need to do it all in a day doesn't mean that I'll let it sit on the desk everytime." "And, i don't wanna start this, let me have a brea—"

"A break for what? You want a break from me? So you're making it clear that you don't love me anymore?" You cut him off with a fast response.

His eyes shot awake and he turned to look at you right after you finished your sentence.

"Do you even know what you're saying right now?" He makes it clear just from his voice that he's starting to get annoyed.

"You know—, if you actually think that your works are more important than me, then maybe we should-"

He cut you off with a sudden kiss. You were shocked with his sudden reaction and you just leaned on the couches arm support to help yourself.

His kisses were always deep and passionate, it usually leaves you two a drooling mess. This one was no different than the others.

His hands grabbed on your waist, then onto your head.

"Have i not been giving you attention? Is that why you're all fucking needy?" He pulled away from you, his voice now sharp and it definitely showed no signs of tiredness.

You couldn't answer him as his words ringed inside your head. Once you finally found your self again, you gave him a simple nod.

"Use your words, Y/N-ya."

..."Yes."

"So i should give you want you wanted, right?"

Needless to say you two found yourselves on your shared bedroom, naked and fucking.

"This is what you wanted, am i right?"

Your ass was positioned up whilst your head was pushed onto a pillow cushion as he fucks his cock inside your pussy.

Finally, you thought. You had missed the feeling of him being inside your greedy cunt. Now, you're under him completely while he eearranges your guts.

"S'good.." you were mumbling incoherent words and moaning into the pillow. He stopped for a second and you felt him pull out of your cunt.

"Y/N-ya, I'll just get some papers i forgot to sign." He turned into the exit of the bedroom ass naked as you watched him pick up a pile of papers.

"You're seriously gonna stop just because of those? You could've done them after!" You shouted at him grom the bedroom to the living room.

Just a second later you saw him walking back into the bedroom eith a whole pile of papers on his hands.

And he, positions you back..?

"Be a good girl and hold yourself on position for me." He positions you with your ass up on the air and your head onto the pillow, your hands are gripping hard into the sheets you swore you could tear them.

You felt a cold pile resting on your back as he inserts his cock inside you once again. You didn't question him anything at all and waited for him to tell you what to do.

"And, don't you dare move. Okay?"

You gave him a thumbs up as he slowly thrusts inside you again with the cold pile on your back. He held your waists and you felt something writing on your back.

That was it! He was fucking using you as a table to sign his papers while fucking you! What a shithead! You felt him go harder and faster as you felt yourself near on edge.

"m'close.." you warned him as you felt yourself tipping over the edge.

"Come all over me." You did as he said and he followed not too long ahead. You rested yourself on the bed and turned to look at him.

He placed his papers on your stomach and gave you a kiss.

"Contented?" He asked you.

..."Yeah."

"You know i love you Y/N, never get that wrong again."

"Only if you're willing to show me!" You giggled as you felt a pen writing over your stomach.

"I'll make sure to never forget."

—In the end you fell asleep as he continued using your stomach as a table, it tickles.

©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.