#it feels so one-sided when i do most of the listening n helping

[jungkit]

yang jungwon- ache for you

jw x f!reader ☯︎ fluff, angst ☯︎ cursing, suggestive ☯︎ wc 842 ☯︎ not proofread

You considered Jungwon one of your close friends, having grown up next to each other and your families being close.

Where you were, he was.

And you hate to admit it, but over time, you grew to have a crush on him.

You can’t help it! He’s grown to be such a good person, not to mention handsome.

You’re certainly not the only one either.

It’s almost everyday you hear one girl or another talking about Jungwon.

You know they envy you for being close to him, but even so, you think he only sees you as a friend.

So, you’ve kept your feelings secret.

There have been numerous times where you’ve wanted to confess, but chickened out every time.

You can’t help but swoon whenever Jungwon talks about you to others, which is why when you hear him mention your name, you can’t help but listen around the corner of the hallway.

“She’s so fucking annoying. I get we’ve been friends since we were kids but it’s like I can never escape her. She’s always there, always clinging to me somehow, I wish she’d just back off.”

You feel your heart crack as you take in his words.

Is this how he’s felt about you all along? Or was this a recent feeling?

Either way, tears prick your eyes as you take a step back.

Without warning, someone turns the corner, coming into direct contact with you.

You look up and see Jungwon, a confused look on his face.

He sees the tears in your eyes and knows.

“Y/N…I-”

You put a hand up, telling him to stop.

Turning around, you begin walking away.

“Y/N, wait!”

His hand makes contact with your shoulder, but you shrug it off.

Making your way into the girls bathroom, somewhere he can’t follow you, you sit on the sink and let the tears flow, trying not to make any noise.

Jungwon stands outside the bathroom, trying to coax you to come out and talk to him.

Only when the bell rings do you hear footsteps leaving the area.

You freshen yourself up, splashing some cold water on your face before heading to class.

You spend the next few days completely avoiding Jungwon who is still attempting to talk to you.

Why? You’re giving him what he wanted.

He even came to your house, asking to see you but you told your parents you didn’t want to see him, to their surprise.

They begged you to tell them what happened but you refused.

Despite everything, you don’t want Jungwon getting into trouble.

Jungwon feels like his world is crashing down.

He knows that what he said was true, he did feel suffocated by you, but he didn’t go about it the right way.

He only started feeling this way recently, wanting space from you for a while.

No, he doesn’t hate you, he just wanted to spend some time apart.

Now he feels terrible for what he’s done.

He didn’t miss the side eye your parents gave him, wanting to know why their daughter refused to see him. He wanted to confess, tell the truth but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

As he lays in bed after another unsuccessful day of trying to talk to you, he thinks about the past 18 years of his life.

You’ve always been there, by his side through everything.

And now, he’s possibly ruined everything.

Jungwon reevaluates everything.

Why did he say what he said?

Because he felt suffocated by your presence.

But why?

He’d never had a problem until recently.

As he scrolls through your instagram, he looks at your most recent post.

You’re beautiful, you always have been.

Even at a young age, Jungwon thought you were pretty.

You’ve grown into an amazing, beautiful young woman.

He feels an ache in his heart at the thought of losing you.

He thinks about you, about your smile, your laugh.

Without realizing, he’s begun to ache somewhere other than his heart.

Looking down, he groans.

Now he has to go take a cold shower.

The next morning, you make your way to school, headphones in not hearing the footsteps behind you.

Jungwon throws himself in front of you, grabbing your shoulders so you stop.

Looking up at him, you try not to lean into his touch that you’ve missed so much.

“What,” you say, giving him a cold stare.

“I realized why I said what I said. It’s because I’m so infatuated with you, that I thought pushing you away would push my feelings away. I love you and I’m sorry.”

You freeze up under Jungwon’s hold, processing his confession.

“What?”

“I. Love. You.”

You feel tears begin to cascade down your cheeks, yet this time they’re not sad tears.

“Jungwon, you idiot.”

“I know,” he pulls you into a hug.

Wrapping your arms around him, you squeeze him tightly.

He pulls away, cupping your face and kissing you gently.

You kiss back, sighing in content.

When you walk into school, hands intertwined, you feel revived.

sorry for not posting for so long, hehe

tagging @pshbites cause she wanted me to ☺️

[mywritersmind]

THE MOST GORGEOUS - LN4

summary : Lando is convinced he’s found the love of his life during media day, embarrasses himself, and can’t stop flirting!!

listen up : flirty lando! pretend it rained in zandvoort🫨

word count : 616

“Carlos!” I hear the voice before I see him, and he definitely doesn’t see me because as he slides into the room he looks directly at his friend, “Carlos! Did you see that reporter!? Fucking hell, She’s the most gorgeous woman i’ve ever seen! And I saw her completely rage at-”

He spots me then.

I’m sitting in a corner, watching him talk about me. I have to say, My ego is extraordinarily boosted. His hands slap down to the side of his body, his eyes going wide.

I can’t help but laugh, “Hi.” I say, glancing at Carlos who’s already cracking up.

Lando puts his hand on the bridge of his bandaged nose, clearing his throat, he hesitantly looks back up at me, “Hello.”

“You know, I prayed for something comical to happen today! Thank you so much, mate!” Carlos slaps his friend on the back before making his way out, shaking his head at me, “See you!”

“Um…” Lando swallows, “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t talking about you?” I’m normally not so self centered but I really believe he is talking about me.

“I saw you get escorted into the ‘no press’ area…” He nods, his lips in a thin line, “I was also the only woman in the media pen.”

“Right! Of course.” He leans his arm against a chair, using the other one to motion at me, “Well… Nice job yelling at Vowles.”

I smile and stand, pulling my skirt down a bit, “He deserved it.” I shrug and grab my purse and paddock pads.

“No doubt.” He watches me walk past, “Wait!” I turn and tilt my head, “Would you want to- get coffee?” he looks nervous.

“No… sorry.”

At this, he looks shocked at my blatant refusal, “Uh… That’s alright. Hey! I never got your name.”

I nod, “True.” I walk out and I hear him call after me.

“I’m Lando! By the way!”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Great race today, Lando.” I say into the microphone as the man stands in front of me. He’s sweaty and holding onto his water for dear life.

I’ve never seen his eyes so blue. Not that I’ve seen much of him in person… I’m new to the interviewer game, made my way up slowly, “Easy to do well when I know you’re watching.”

He just won Max’s home race and apparently winner Lando is a very flirty being. I raise a brow, “How will you be celebrating tonight? Big party?”

He runs his hand over his mouth, “Nah… looking to hang out with someone special.” Is he… asking me out? Now!?

I clear my throat, trying to stay professional, “Sounds Lovely.”

“Hopefully it will be! If she says yes.” He’s looking directly into my eyes, my cheeks feeling hot.

“Mmm who would say no to Lando Norris?”

He licks his lips, “I know one person.” I shake myself out of it, remembering the camera facing him and the mic in my hand.

“So! I’m assuming you're pleased with tyre management today? Pretty wet track, Is that harder or more fun?”

His mouth pulls into a slow smirk and I know i’m doomed, “Prefer it wet after a few boring races.” He shrugs and I roll my eyes because I know what he’ll say next, “Quite slick today but nothing i’m not used to.”

His media manager taps his shoulder, letting us know time is up, “Have a good day celebrating, Norris.”

“Appreciate it, Y/n.” He winks and turns around. I sigh and turn the other way, praying my cheeks will cool down.

He knows my name.

[pucksandpower]

I’m Gonna Wife You Up

Max Verstappen x best friend!Reader

Summary: in which your best friend wins his first World Drivers’ Championship, proposes through text, and confesses his feelings for you … in that order

It’s just after 2 am when your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You groan and roll over, squinting at the bright screen. A new text from Max. You can’t help but smile as you open it.

Ik im drunk but listen

Im gonna wife you up one day

Thats all

Good night

You laugh out loud at the drunken confession, shaking your head fondly. Leave it to Max to make even his most romantic statements sound completely ridiculous.

The two of you have been inseparable since you were kids racing in karts together. As his career skyrocketed into Formula 1 and global fame, you were always there by his side as his best friend and perpetual voice of reason.

Well, most of the time anyway.

As you type out a teasing response, another text comes through.

Wait no

Im coming over

You barely have time to process it before your phone starts ringing, Max’s goofy grinning face flashing on the screen. You accept the FaceTime call and he immediately starts rambling.

“Y/N! Y/N listen. I just won the fucking World Championship! Can you believe it?”

“Yes, I can actually,” you chuckle. “I was there, remember? Sitting right in the garage.”

“Of course you were! You’re always there,” he slurs, words running together. “My biggest supporter. My good luck charm.”

“I think you might be overestimating my involvement a tad there, buddy.”

He shakes his head adamantly. “No way. I couldn’t do any of this without you, y’know? All those years of you kicking my ass in the karts, pushing me to be better ...”

You scoff. “Oh please, you were always the better driver. I just got a head start.”

“That has nothing to do with it! You’re just crazy talented. Why d’you think I’ve kept you around all these years?”

“Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. Drunken banter with Max is one of your favorite pastimes.

Suddenly, there’s a loud banging on your door. You jump, staring at it in confusion.

“Y/N? Y/N you home?” Max’s muffled voice calls from the other side.

You glance back at your phone to see he’s now wandering down the hallway, FaceTiming you from outside your hotel room. Of course the idiot wouldn’t think to simply text you a heads up.

“Max! I’ll be right there, just stay put for once in your life.”

You hurry to the door and swing it open. There he is, leaning against the wall in a rumpled dress shirt and loosened tie, phone raised as he grins at you proudly. You can’t stop the grin that spreads across your own face at the sight of your best friend, for once totally carefree after years of endless pressure and scrutiny.

“Hey champ,” you tease, stepping aside so he can stumble into your living room. “Need me to give you a hand there?”

“I’m good, I’m good.” He waves you off, somehow managing to trip over his own feet and crash onto your couch. You wince as he lets out a groan.

“Yeah, you seem totally fine.”

“Shut up,” he mumbles petulantly, making you laugh.

You move to stand over him, arms crossed as you drink in the sight. His dress shirt is untucked and half unbuttoned, tie completely askew. His carefully styled hair is now a tousled mess, a few stray strands falling over his bright eyes. Despite his drunken state, an almost giddy smile plays at his lips.

“What?” He asks, catching your fond gaze.

You shake your head. “Nothing, I’m just … I’m really proud of you, Max.”

His grin widens and he grabs your hand, tugging you down to sit beside him on the couch. “I did it, didn’t I? I actually fucking did it!”

“You did.” You squeeze his hand, hardly believing it yourself. “World Champion at just 24 years old. You deserve this so much.”

He sobers a bit, blue eyes shining intensely as he holds your gaze. “I couldn’t have done it without you though. You’ve been there every step of the way. Through all the good times and the bad ...”

You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off.

“No, shhh. Let me say this.” He takes a deep breath, seeming to struggle to find the right words. “You … you always believed in me. No matter what. Even when I didn’t believe in myself, even when everyone was writing me off and calling me arrogant or reckless … you were always there to pick me up and set me straight.”

His gaze drops briefly before locking with yours again. “You don’t know what that means to me, Y/N. To have someone like that, someone who’s always got your back no matter what. Who calls you on your bullshit but also hypes you up more than anyone. I honestly don’t know if I’d be here without you.”

Your throat feels tight as you blink back unexpected tears. You’ve never seen Max be this open and vulnerable before. You reach up impulsively to brush that stray lock of hair from his forehead, making him catch his breath.

In a burst of uncharacteristic boldness, you decide to be just as honest with him. “Max … you have to know how I feel about you after all these years. How much you mean to me.”

He swallows hard, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment. “Then show me.”

You search his gaze, trying to gauge if this is really what he wants, if he’ll regret this in the morning when he’s sober. But beneath the alcohol-induced haze, you see only sincerity and a longing you’ve secretly shared for so long.

So you lean in slowly, cupping his stubbly jaw in your palm as your lips finally meet his in a kiss you’ve dreamed about for years. It starts soft and tentative, exploring each other in this new territory. But it doesn’t take long for the heat to rise between you, years of built up tension boiling over.

His hands come up to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as he angles his head for deeper access. You let out a soft whimper against his lips, reveling in the feeling of finally having Max like this, all yours. He inhales sharply at the sound, like he can’t quite believe this is real either.

You pour everything into that kiss — your friendship, your inside jokes, and countless shared memories. All the pride and protectiveness, the unspoken words you’ve held back for so long.

And Max gives it all right back to you tenfold, kissing you with an undeniable hunger and passion reflective of the fierce determination that’s shaped him into a World Champion.

When you finally have to break apart for air, you’re both panting softly, chests heaving. Max rests his forehead against yours, eyes shining with an unmistakable tenderness.

“I meant what I said, y’know?” His voice is low and gravelly. “I really am gonna wife you up one day.”

You let out a watery chuckle, feeling deliriously happy and overwhelmed all at once. Only Max could make a drunken proclamation like that somehow sound so sweet and natural.

“Is that a promise?” You murmur against his lips.

He captures them in another searing kiss, sending tingles down your spine.

“It’s a goddamn certainty, schatje.”

Max wastes no time in deepening the kiss, his tongue slipping past your parted lips to explore your mouth hungrily. A low groan rumbles in his chest as your fingers tangle in the short hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him even closer.

“Max ...” you breathe out between heated kisses. “We should … move this … to the bedroom.”

He answers by nipping at your bottom lip teasingly before trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline.

“Bed … good idea ...” he mumbles against the sensitive skin just below your ear, making you shiver.

Before you can protest further, Max is clumsily maneuvering to straddle your lap on the couch, never breaking the fevered kiss. You can’t help but giggle at his drunken lack of coordination as he nearly topples the both of you to the floor.

“Smooth moves there, champ,” you quip breathlessly.

He leans back with a devilish smirk, blue eyes sparkling mischievously. “You know me, schatje. I’m a regular Casanova.”

You snort at that. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

His grin widening, Max suddenly lurches forward to blow a raspberry right on your neck, making you squeal with laughter.

“Max! You’re too drunk for this, you idiot.”

“Never too drunk for you,” he husks in that low, rumbly tone that sends tingles down your spine.

Before you can formulate a response, his nimble fingers are stumbling through undoing the buttons of his shirt, pushing the fabric aside to bare his toned chest to your roaming gaze. You can’t resist reaching out to run your palms over the skin, relishing in the firm muscle and light sprinkling of hair.

Max’s eyes slip closed, head falling back slightly as he savors your touch. “That’s it … been waiting for your hands on me for years.”

You swallow hard, suddenly very aware of how real this is, how you’re both finally crossing that line after harboring secret feelings for one another for so long. Before you can overthink it, Max is tugging insistently at the hem of your t-shirt.

Meeting his heated gaze, you raise your arms obediently to allow him to undress you. His hooded eyes darken further as more of your skin is slowly revealed to him, lingering reverently on your body in a way that makes your cheeks flush. You’ve never felt so wanted, so desired.

Once your shirt is tossed carelessly aside, Max leans in to capture your lips in another smoldering kiss, hands roaming across the newly exposed skin of your lower back and sides. You sigh into his mouth, arching shamelessly into his touch like you’ve been craving for ages.

In one fluid motion, Max hooks his arms beneath your thighs and stands from the couch, your legs instinctively winding around his waist as he hauls you up against his chest. You can’t help the startled laugh that escapes you, breaking the kiss.

“Max! What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed, of course,” he rumbles, already stumbling in the direction of your bedroom. “Can’t very well have my way with you on that tiny couch, can I?”

You shake your head at his forwardness, kissing along the sharp line of his jaw. “Is that so? And just what did you have in mind for this bed of mine, Mr. Verstappen?”

He shivers at your teasing tone, finally reaching the edge of your mattress and unceremoniously tumbling you both down onto the plush comforter. You let out a rather undignified squeak as Max lands half on top of you, quickly rolling to pin you beneath him.

Any snarky remarks you may have prepared immediately die on your lips when you take in his appearance — shirtless and slightly disheveled, those incredible eyes dark with undisguised want, pink lips parted enticingly. He’s never looked more gorgeous.

“You really wanna know what I have in mind?” Max’s voice is low and husky, making something deep within you tighten with anticipation. He leans down to trail scorching kisses along the sensitive column of your throat. “I’m gonna take my time exploring every single inch of you, liefje. Mapping out all those gorgeous curves of yours ...”

He punctuates the words by rolling his hips firmly against yours, allowing you to feel the unmistakable evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against your core. You can’t stop the whimpery moan that falls from your lips at the delicious friction.

Max grins wickedly against your neck. “That’s it, make more of those pretty sounds for me ...”

You tangle your fingers in his tousled hair to tug his mouth back to yours, unable to resist tasting him again. The kiss quickly turns heated and desperate, all tongue and teeth, both of you pouring out years of built up longing. Your hands roam feverishly across the broad expanse of Max’s back, committing every ridge and plane of muscle to memory.

Growing impatient, you begin tugging impatiently at Max’s belt buckle and zipper, making him break away with a breathy chuckle.

“Fuck, you’re eager tonight, aren’t you?”

“You’re one to talk,” you shoot back cheekily, finally popping open the button and shoving his jeans down over his narrow hips. “Pretty sure you proposed to me, like, thirty seconds after our first kiss.”

He sobers somewhat at that, eyes shining with sincerity as he holds your gaze. “I meant that. I really do want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Your heart flutters wildly in your chest at his words, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. “Max ...”

He cuts you off by capturing your lips in another bruising kiss, effectively robbing you of coherent thought. When he rocks his hips again, you realize with a start that the last shred of his clothing has disappeared at some point during your heated exchange.

You break away with a shaky gasp, drinking in the sight of his fully naked form above you. Despite having seen him undressed countless times in a purely platonic context — in his driver’s rooms before races, passing showers when staying over at his apartment, that one incredibly awkward encounter in the Red Bull cold tub after the Singapore Grand Prix earlier this year — you’ve never truly taken the time to appreciate Max like this, to openly admire his body and all its lean lines and toned muscle definition.

“See something you like?” His teasing lilt snaps you out of your dazed reverie.

Cheeks flushing hotly, you lick your lips unconsciously before nodding slowly. “Very much so.”

His gravelly chuckle makes something low in your belly stir. “Then let’s get you out of these.”

Max tugs at the waistband of your leggings, helping to shimmy them down your legs and tossing them carelessly aside. You instinctively move to cover yourself with your arms, suddenly feeling very exposed. But Max just shakes his head slowly, emerald eyes raking over your body with naked reverence.

“Don’t,” he murmurs huskily, gently pulling your arms away. “You’re fucking stunning, every last inch of you.”

His worshipful tone makes you feel beautiful and powerful in a way you never have before. You keep your eyes locked on his, feeling utterly weightless as Max leans down to trail hot, open mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down the valley between your breasts. He takes his time exploring and tasting every inch of newly uncovered skin, relishing in the breathy whimpers and moans he draws from you freely.

But as his mouth moves lower, lavishing attention on the soft curves of your belly and hips, you begin to notice a subtle change. His movements are growing slower, more sluggish, those previously sharp nips and licks turning sloppier.

And when you tangle your fingers in his tousled hair to provide some gentle guidance, Max lets out a long, low grumble of contentment … followed swiftly by a rumbling snore.

You blink down at him in surprise, hardly able to believe it. This absolute idiot, this drunken oaf of a World Champion … has fallen straight to sleep on top of you, fully nude and still nestled between your parted thighs.

A burst of laughter bubbles up from your chest, loud and borderline hysterical. You shake your head slowly at the ridiculousness of it all, hardly caring that the moment has been completely ruined.

Because somehow, of course this would happen to you. Only Max could seduce you to within an inch of your life before passing out entirely mid-foreplay.

Typical.

Still, you can’t quite smother your fond smile as you gaze down at his slack, boyishly handsome features, completely relaxed in peaceful slumber. Even sloshed and wasted, he looks almost unbearably sweet like this — finally free of the perpetual weight of stress and pressure he usually carries on those strong shoulders.

“Oh Max ...” you murmur affectionately, smoothing back the tousled chestnut strands from his forehead. “Only you could make me go this disgustingly gooey, even when you’re being a drunken mess.”

With a rueful shake of your head, you began the arduous task of gently maneuvering Max to roll off of you and onto his back beside you on the bed. He lets out a disgruntled grumble at the movement, snuffling adorably into the pillows as you tug the comforter up over his naked form.

Once he seems as settled and comfortable as he’s likely to get, you study his slumbering features for another lingering moment. God, he really is beautiful, inside and out. And he’s all yours now, in a way you’ve only dreamed of for years.

Smiling to yourself, you scoot closer until you’re nestled against his side, head pillowed on his muscular chest. You revel in the feeling of Max’s strong arms instinctively wrapping around you, holding you close even in sleep.

With a contented sigh, you let your eyes drift closed, safe in the knowledge that you’ll be able to wake up like this tomorrow — and hopefully every day after that for the rest of your lives.

Just before slipping into peaceful dreams yourself, you can’t resist pressing one last featherlight kiss to the hollow of Max’s throat.

“I love you, my World Champion,” you whisper against his skin.

Max just smiles that brilliant sunny grin in his sleep, pulling you tighter against him. And really, that’s all the answer you’ll ever need.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

guess | spencer reid x reader

wc: 2.3k, rating: explicit/18+

tags/warnings: slight exhibitionism/voyeurism, alcohol consumption (reader is not drunk during sex), lingerie, munch!spencer, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

a/n: heavily inspired by guess by charli xcx ft. billie eilish, specifically billie's verse. yes the song dropped yesterday. yes i listened to the song once and decided to write a fic about it. i'm insane about s7/8 reid rn so :) (also posted on ao3!)

You swear you don’t mean to show off, but the miniskirt you’re in doesn’t help your case in the slightest.

Spencer had told you to join him at the bar for drinks with his coworkers, the bar just a couple blocks down from the club you were at with your friends. Your boyfriend had been away for most of this week and you really wanted to see him, so you don’t think twice about popping by to see Spencer. Besides, you hadn’t seen Penelope, JJ and Emily in a while either, and those girls treat you too kindly.

You realise how skimpily dressed you are when you walk into the bar, though, when you approach the very properly-dressed group of FBI agents at a booth in the corner. Your top is cropped and low-cut, revealing your cleavage, and you were wearing a little black miniskirt, the hem of which barely skirted the tops of your thighs.

Spencer has never commented on your fashion choices, often being the very satisfied recipient of your sometimes revealing outfits. But as you greet the BAU, his eyes are dark and hungry as they roam your figure. You smile at him with a whispered “Hi, baby,” before you kiss him chastely. The look on Spencer’s face is unreadable, other than the fact that you know he appreciates the view.

His gaze darts up at Derek from across the booth when he whistles at you.

“Looking good, mama.” Derek waggles his eyebrows at you, earning him a smack to the chest from Penelope and a hearty chuckle from Emily.

You lean over to hug JJ, Penelope and Emily in that order on the other side of the table, and you feel Spencer’s hand quickly snake across your waist, pulling you back to sit down. You glance over at him briefly, but he only keeps his gaze straight ahead.

“You are one lucky guy, Reid,” Emily laughs, and you feel Spencer’s arm curl around you tighter, pulling you in closer.

The rest of the night is pretty fun, cracking jokes and talking with Spencer’s team, but with the alcohol in your system from earlier, it only takes a few more drinks for you to get drunk. You’re extra giggly, half-sitting in Spencer’s lap, his hand not leaving your side. You feel the rumble in his chest when he speaks, saying, “I think we’re going to head home first. This one here seems a little drunk already.”

“I’m not drunk,” you lilt, rolling your eyes. You lay your head on Spencer’s shoulder, blinking hard before you meet Penelope’s gaze. You hear Emily defending you about how you aren’t drunk, but Penelope smiles at you and says, “I think boy genius is right.”

You frown deeply, almost comically so. “Penny! You’re supposed to back me up here!”

Penelope laughs, always so kind to you. “Come on, honey. Let Reid take you home.”

You huff, crossing your arms like a petulant child. You don’t notice the way Spencer’s gaze darts down to your chest shamelessly. Derek whistles, and you assume Spencer must glare at him because Derek is raising his hands in surrender, telling Spencer he doesn’t mean anything. What were they even talking about? You don’t know, but Spencer is murmuring in your ear about getting a taxi home, and after you say goodbye to all of his friends, you’re letting him guide you out of the bar and into the cool night.

You shiver, the very little fabric you have on not doing you any favours when the temperature drops. Spencer is quick to shrug off his jacket and help you put it on. His jacket is long enough on you, considering Spencer’s height, to cover your skirt.

“I swear alcohol’s supposed to warm you up,” you grumble, holding your arms close to your chest as you try to stay warm. “I’m fucking freezing.”

“You feel warmer for a bit because the alcohol is a vasodilator – it causes the blood vessels under your skin to dilate, increasing blood flow, which makes you feel warmer. If you drink more, the higher levels of alcohol actually work to shrink your blood vessels instead and make you feel cold. Do you have a headache?”

You shake your head, but take the chance to snuggle up to Spencer now. “You feel nice and warm.”

“Good,” Spencer says, holding you close. In no time, he flags down a taxi, and you two pile in and drive towards his apartment.

Spencer’s hand is drawing circles into the side of your thigh, mindless, but the touch is incredibly distracting. You ask him softly, “You’ve been touching me all night, Spence. Something on your mind?”

“You,” he whispers back. “Can’t stop thinking about your underwear.”

You squeak at his brazenness, smacking his chest. “You– Spencer!”

“I got a good look when you were practically bent over the table just now,” Spencer continues, his voice a low rumble in his throat. “Didn’t even give me a chance to guess.”

You gape at him like a fish, but Spencer smiles and murmurs in your ear, “You know how much I love when you wear that lacy black pair.”

You bite down on your lip, trying not to moan like a whore in the back of this taxi. You just look at him, silently wishing he’d do something. Spencer presses a kiss to your jaw, and you feel your cheeks heat.

Thankfully, the driver is quick to announce that you’re at your destination, and you and Spencer stumble out of the cab quicker than you’d like to admit. Spencer doesn’t even wait for his change before he slams the car door shut.

Spencer crowds you against the back of the elevator, an old, rickety thing with no camera, so you feel less bad when Spencer slips his hand under your skirt and past your panties, his finger sliding between your wet folds. “Spencer!”

“You’re so wet for me already,” Spencer groans, kissing down your neck desperately. His fingers are so tantalising, rubbing up against your clit, your hole. “You’re so sexy.”

“Spencer,” you whine. “Hurry up and fuck me.”

The elevator doors creak open on Spencer’s floor. “Let’s go, then.”

Spencer barely locks the door behind you before he’s kissing you, eager and sloppy and desperate. It’s so hot, his large hands on your waist pulling you closer to him, and you feel the growing problem in the front of his pants.

“Spencer,” you moan. You feel his hands push up your skirt, feel him wedge his leg between your thighs. You must be soaked through your underwear by now, and you shamelessly rut your hips forward to grind against his leg.

“You know I love your fashion sense, my love, but this is slutty even for you.” Spencer’s voice is dark when he says it, and you whimper. “You’re dressed like you want somebody else’s attention.”

Your eyes widen and you look up at him. “No!”

“Derek was eyeing you like a piece of meat earlier. Emily, too.” Spencer frowns.

“I only want you, baby,” you insist, holding onto Spencer’s arms. “Only want you to notice me.”

“I am the only one who knows the colour of your underwear,” Spencer hums, his fingers skirting the waistband of your panties. “And fuck, you look good in them.”

“Please, Spence,” you whine, your plea lilting off into a gasp as Spencer lifts you, getting you to wrap his legs around him. You’d seen how he looked when he was younger, so scrawny he looked like he’d get swept away if the wind blew too hard, but now, he’s got more meat on his bones. His body is a pleasure to look at, let alone feel under your hands, which you’re happy to do now.

You touch the firm lines of his body through his shirt, as Spencer carries you to his bedroom. You mumble, hands frisky, “You’re so hot.”

“Says you,” Spencer smiles. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”

You grin as he lays you on his bed, gasping when he slides his palm over your wet cunt through your underwear. His thumb flicks over your clit through the lace, the material dulling the electrifying sensation. you whine, “Spencer, please.”

Spencer tsks, looking down at you. “Let me take my time with you, darling. You’ve been teasing me all evening.”

He presses his thumb against your clit a little harder, making you moan loudly. While he tends to tower over you in bed, you also deeply appreciate the view of him getting on his knees so he can make a home between your thighs. His hair is wild, unruly, and you run your hand through it, admiring it. Keeping your gaze, Spencer leans down to kiss your pussy.

You feel his warm breath on you, the scratch of his stubble on your skin, pinned down simply by his gaze as his tongue darts out to lick you over your underwear. You whimper, as Spencer wraps his arms around each of your thighs, using you as an anchor as he presses his face between your legs.

You sob, because what Spencer’s giving you just isn’t enough, not when you need to feel his tongue on your cunt. He thumbs at your hole through the fabric, dipping into your wetness in a cruel approximation of the pleasure he usually gives you.

“Fuck me,” you groan. “Take my panties off already.”

“Not yet,” Spencer hums. Instead, he pushes your panties to the side, lets his fingers slide over your cunt. You gasp at the sensation, his rough, calloused fingers sliding over your wetness, and then you feel the warmth of his tongue.

The sounds his mouth makes as he eats you out are filthy, obscene. His tongue flicks over your cunt with a practised precision, familiar with what makes you tick, the wet, slick sounds too overwhelming. Your toes are curling with how good Spencer makes you feel – legs trembling, breathing heavy. You can’t stop the whimpers that leave your lips, almost helpless in the way you moan for him.

“Please,” your voice is shaky as you cry out for Spencer. “I need you so bad, baby."

Spencer hums against your cunt, the vibrations sending shocks up your spine in your pleasure. “Okay, my darling.”

Finally, finally, he’s sitting up and pulling your panties down, your little skirt still pushed up to expose your cunt. You look up at him, silently wondering why he hasn’t taken it off. He plays with the soft fabric in his hands almost absentmindedly and says, “I think we should keep it on.”

You blink up at him, not coherent enough to say anything about it. Instead, you watch him take his shirt off – you whistle at the sight, while he just rolls his eyes. He unbuckles his belt and push his pants down, his cock bobbing up, hard and red and leaky. You bite your lip, thinking about how he’ll feel inside of you.

“Kiss me,” you whine, and Spencer smiles at you. He tastes of you when his lips press against yours, and he’s quick to deepen it, his tongue in your mouth, like he's close to devouring you whole.

While he kisses you hungrily, you feel his hand between your legs, moving to line himself up with your entrance. You moan as the blunt head of his cock presses up against your hole, the sensation you’ve been craving all evening. Cruelly, he rubs up against you just like that, sliding between your folds but not giving you the satisfaction you need. You’re close to biting his head off.

“Spencer–” you start, but Spencer decides to press his cock into you right at that moment, and you sob with the way his thick length splits you open. Every time he fucks you, you feel like he was made for you, filling you up in all the right ways, feeling so perfect on top of you, inside of you.

You meet his lips and kiss him lazily as he starts to thrust into you, at the perfect pace, just deep enough to hit all the right spots. It’s too good, Spencer knowing you and your pleasure like the back of his hand.

“Fuck,” Spencer groans against your mouth, finally showing some sign of his unravelling. “You’re so tight, darling.”

You gasp, groaning his name, legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, feeling like you could fuse into one person with how much you’re clinging onto him. You press your forehead to his shoulder, moans punched out of you with every one of Spencer’s thrusts.

“Feels– Feels so good, Spence, love you,” you cry.

“I love you too,” Spencer groans, voice low and rumbly in his chest. “You’re so perfect, my love.”

You sob as your orgasm hits you, crashing into you like a tidal wave. You shake as you come, feeling so positively overwhelmed with the way Spencer fucks you, the way he holds you, the way he kisses you. You can’t feel your legs as you come down from your high, head spinning with all the pleasure. “Spence…”

“I’m– Fuck–” Spencer’s tripping over his own words as he comes right alongside you, your clenched pussy sending him over the edge too. He blows his load deep inside you, sticky and hot and so satisfying. You can feel how hard he’s breathing as your mind clears, his arms trembling as he holds himself up so he doesn’t end up collapsing onto you.

“You’re perfect,” you hum in Spencer’s ear, soft and gentle as you kiss the side of his head. You pull him in close, letting him rest his weight onto you, and your hand goes to stroke his hair softly. “So good. I love you.”

“Thank you. I love you more,” Spencer groans, his voice a little raspy already. “I’m sorry if I was too possessive over you in front of my friends tonight."

“All is forgiven, especially since you were sexy as fuck,” you grin up at him. “You’re always sexy.”

“Says the girl in a miniskirt and black lace panties.” Spencer smiles.

“All the more I know what I’m talking about, then,” you giggle, before kissing him slow.

[packsvlog]

᭡ ★ ׁ ׅ 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐒 ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ᝰ gojo satoru used to be a lonely child, that was until you started to be there for him — to hear his complains, to run away from the clan for a few hours, and to decorate his hair with flowers. you are his most sacred person, he is your most loved one.

ᡴꪫ a/n: bring me back my man, gege!!! this was inspired by the confirmation he would sneak away from home and this, he would’ve been a mama’s boy. @emilyywhyy. using new tag, masterlist.

ᡴꪫ c/w: child!gojo, teen!gojo \\ child!reader, teen!reader \\ fluff and angst \\ bittersweet ending, but happy. \\ gender neutral!reader \\ 1.3k words.

They say the day Gojo Satoru was born, the balance of the world shifted. Everyone would stare at him with reverence, as if he was a a saint and the gift from the gods, when in fact he was a martyr, born to suffer. For you, though, he was just a boy — just your Satoru.

You had been by his side for a long time, being born in a world where his presence was constant, just a couple months older than you. You father was an experienced teacher for the clan, and your mother their most loyal historian. Both of them had been tasked with helping Gojo to understand his powers and control it, and you, always so curious, stayed by their side. Quietly and cautious, staring at him.

White hair, blue eyes, stoic face and strange ways. Sometimes, too rude, others, too playful. Inside of him there were two personalities in constant crash, one that longed to be just a child and other that was meant to be the strongest.

He envied you for many reasons. You could play with the other children, your tasks seemed less rough than his, and… Oh, he envied how loved you were by your parents. When you would accompany him in one of his classes, arriving in your messy hair and dirty kimono for playing too much, eyes filled with happiness and your parents would beam at you, they lovely child.

Would they have sold you, had you been the strongest of your family? Or would they have fought? How much money, status and power would it take for any good person in this world to be corrupted?

Satoru didn’t want to know the answer to those questions, he likes you and your parents that way — warm hugs and sweet kisses. Never would Satoru trade places with you, for him, you were so pure to deal with what he has been going through.

You were the one to approach him first, finding him hiding between the trees that surrounded the clan’s houses, tears guarded by his hands, and he was betrayed by his trembling shoulders.

“Why are you crying?” You stepped closer very slowly, as if approaching a scared animal.

“I want to go home.” Satoru answers, making your small child mind wander what he meant. Isn’t this the Gojo’s lands? “I want my mommy.”

Oh.

Even naive as you were, you understood right away. You have seen her before, one of the most beautiful woman you have ever met. Quiet, walking around the gardens, her pale skin in contrast with the roses, but everything about her and around seems dull. Maybe it’s the lack of her child that makes her like this. No money in the world could replace it, and she was only a woman in a world controlled by men. Her wishes and demands wouldn’t be heard, never.

“Sometimes, they let us see each other.” You are putting daffodils on Satoru’s hair when he starts talking again. “She pretends she is fine, and tells me how proud she is. Her hugs are longer each time, and the meetings are less as well.”

“And how about your dad?” You ask, when he is the one decorating your hair with trembling fingers.

“He…” Satoru sighs. “He is just there. Tells me to listen to the maesters, to your father. That one day I’ll make everyone proud, and be the strongest.”

“I’m proud of you.” You feel the need to say it, so you do. And maybe, it’s what you had to do, Satoru smiles slightly, before raising to his feet and grabbing you with him. He starts to run in a direction you have never been before. “Where are we going?”

“Trust me.” You do. That moment and every moment forward, you would trust Gojo.

You both arrived in the city after an hour of walking and running, babbling about your favorites everything.

His favorite animal is a dog, but he can’t have one. His favorite food is taiyaki, but he never tasted it. And, his favorite color, he stops to think and stare at you for a while, before going with the one you think looks exactly as your eyes. You tell him yours, and that you both can fix all his curiosities, right now.

With your little purses, coins clicking inside as you run through the streets, buying whatever he needs and has never experienced before, Satoru learns that he doesn’t like taiyaki, rather he finds his favorite being Kikufuku.

Sharing a strawberry ice cream, Gojo halts his movements, and you sense something coming from him — it’s what makes him being called the stronger one, the so long awaited hero. Like gravity has gone away, and the sky is falling on top of you, ready to crush everything.

“They are watching us. Let’s go home.” Had he been alone, that wouldn’t bother him, but you were still innocent, not yet developed your technique.

So, with daffodils still in your heads, you both return home to disapproving looks and a stomach filled with sugar.

Inside the groves, a tradition was born. If the weight of the world became too much to bear, Satoru would find you there. You always knew when he needed you the most, like a calling only you could sense. It burned in your chest until you reached him, and in front of Gojo, you would pick flowers and decorate his wild hair with it, or teach him how to make flower crowns or… rings.

“I wish I could burn this whole place to the ground.” He says once, while admiring the petals on your finger, he proudly made. Anger had been his friend for a while now, when he learned he would go to Jujutsu tech. He was happy and scared, and already missing you. “Except you, of course, and your parents, and my mom and… and this woods. This is ours, right?”

“Yes, ‘Toru. This is ours.” You hold his cold face with your other hand, while smiling calmly. “It will always be ours.” Closing the gap, you rest your head on his. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I’m not going away forever. It feels like it, but I’ll be back, every weekend, I promise. And… I could exchange to the Kyoto school.”

“No, Satoru. You need freedom.”

“I need you as well.” He counterparts. “I’ll never be free from the expectations of the world, we could, at least, be stuck together.” He is nearly crying again.

“They won’t accept me, my cursed technique is nothing too special.” You sigh, falling in the grass, and he goes behind.

“I disagree. You will see, they will come begging for you, and you will tell them to go fu…” You raise your hands to his mouth, giggling as if you were seven, and not a nearly fifteen years old girl. “I’ll make them come for you, and if they don’t, I will. I’ll always come to you, and our daffodils.”

And indeed, he does. He comes for you months later, accompanied by two other kids and round sunglasses you’ve never seen before. Gojo Satoru comes for you, to grab your hands, pack your clothes, kiss his mothers cheeks knowing that won’t ever happen again, even if he wants so much.

She tells she is proud of him, his father tell him he is nearly there. Gojo wonders what would be enough to be enough. He tries not to care, inside the car with you, hands interlocked, jokes being shared and daffodils, always them, on both your heads and fingers.

You’re proud of him, and he is nowhere near his freedom, but the responsibilities feel less strong, his sadness less real. You’re here, always will be.

﹙⠀ ᭡ ࣪˖ 🍋.⠀﹚ 20243008⠀─┈ ⭑⠀ ͏͏

[esoteriamaya]

astro thoughts - short n sweet <3 pluto in the house

Pluto in the 1st house - Very strong auras. Could deliberately see through bs a mile away. Not gifted in being friendly, lol just kidding. Their not 'nice' though. And they don't have to be. They don't like faking the funk so this pretty much gives them an interesting outlook on people and they way they see themselves. Can shift the whole room with just their magic. Can be very intimidating to some, but very inspiring to others.

Pluto in the 2nd house - Could have financial issues from time to time. Not likely to say the same thing twice, if they said it once they meant it. Dont bother them again about it. These individuals can use their psychic senses to make money if that is what they wish, they could be very therapeutic to say the least. Give em a chance, they really wouldn't hurt a fly.

Pluto in the 3rd house - There speech is very compelling. They could hold a room with just their words and it could open the minds of a few listening to them. They have a gift in impacting you with just the way that they think, making you beg for more each day at a time.

Pluto in the 4th house - Could of had a transformative experience at home and I don't mean that nicely. There are somethings that should be left unsaid but sometimes things need a reawakening. They don't seem to let things go here.. but why would they? There past is like a haunting story awaiting to be unraveled just so you can piece together the puzzles that we're left unfinished. They are quiet when it comes to their personal life and hide themselves from the world so that you won't get an inkling of what truly is masked behind the bushes.

Pluto in the 5th house - Very deep bonds with their art work and can do a performance like no other. They will have you feeling every bit of emotion in their vibration just to help you feel what the character is feeling. I noticed there are a lot of good actors with this placement. Anywho, they have a powerful presence and when it comes to dating them or even just experiencing them for a little while it can be a transformative, healing experience for people involved with them.

Pluto in the 6th house - Like their martians mates in the 6th house, these people can have a pretty interesting experience here. They have a tendency to be obsessive over what they want so they work as much as they can until the wheels falls off. This could become a problem if they don't think to chill out on working and sacrificing their well being for something out side of themself.

Pluto in the 7th house - Deep, penetrating raw auras. Could be self-reflective on the way they see things, themselves , others and just the world at large. They have a gift of discernment but most of them never use the gift and can get caught up into the wrong things sometimes. There is more than what meets the eye with these individuals. They never let others in so easily, sometimes they're worth the wait. ;)

Pluto in the 8th house - Really good at seeing through things that others just can't seem to pick up on. Really gifted in occult sciences. Have issues with commitment and could have trouble with individuals because of traumatic experiences in past lives or current one. Could have people who want to be around them just to unravel them, but not really want to be with them. Have a very mysterious presence, hard to read.

Pluto in the 9th house - Very interesting and their thoughts can penetrate the mind in so many ways. They will leave you speechless when its all over. They travel to different places all the time but they are pretty good at finding places that match their flow, and love ot bring anyone along for the ride. There just a different layer to them that no one really knows how to explain, but its a gift that keeps giving.

Pluto in the 10th house - Woah. Thats the word to describe em. Its their touch and raw auras that keep you on your knees. VERY strong personas and do not like being talked down on. Could use their experiences/circumstances to their advantage. Gifted and seeing beyond what no one wants to believe is true. They can have the world if they know they got it in them already. Hard headed but gets to the bag with just their two feet. No one else can beat them at their own game.

Pluto in the 11th house - Whew. These people have a spell on the people that no other pluto house placement can compete with. The issue is these people don't know how to use that power but thats not all that bad. They can have people do things for them because something about them just makes people want to do things for them.

Pluto in the 12th house - very odd things comes out of the mind with these individuals. The subconscious/dream world is the most important part of their day to day because it rules the present in a way that cant be controlled but must be felt. How are you doing living a life that no one seems to live? It seems like they are all alone, but the world is calling for them to give them all the answers.

Talk to me in the comments, let me know how yall feelin! <3

[cvpidzcvrse]

𝔄𝔯𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔉'𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩?

MDNI, skadaddle nigga

✦A/N: i swear i try to post more but like but sitting on my ass is just rlly fun to do. BUT OFC I CANT BE GONE FOR LONGG!! also i didn’t proofread so ignore typos. here’s an ony fic that i pushed out my pussy bc i’m hot like that. ENJOY!

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Synopsis: You and ony have been fwb for a few months now. On a strict “no emotions involved” type of situation. But he can’t help it if he gets jealous when you start talking to someone else. Your famous last words? "Make me, nigga."

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Wc: 2,233

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Warnings: Mdom, argument, jealous ony, degradation, light choking, oral male!receiving, manhandling, spanking, face fucking, orgasm denial, fingering, very little praise, he’s mean asf, p in v, and finishing inside (practice safe sex)

(reader is black)

You and Onyankapon have been friends with benefits for a couple of months now. It all started because you wanted to lose your virginity badly. You were gnawing at the bars of your enclosure, being that dick hungry you put pornstars to shame. But you didn’t want to lose something so special to someone you barely knew. So you went down a line of people you knew, most of them you immediately shot down. Connie was a whore, Armin had a girlfriend, Jean is…Jean, so what was left was your best friend. He took the opportunity and ran with it, now you guys fuck at least twice a week.

Ony made the sex strictly just sex, with no relationship or strings attached. Just adults blowing off steam almost every weekend. He said it was ok to talk to other people, that’s where Eren comes in. You met him through Armin 2 weeks ago and you guys haven't stopped talking since. Even now, you’re at Ony’s house watching a movie but you can’t separate your eyes from your screen. He invited you over with the notion of just “watching a movie” but he just wanted to fuck, and you knew that. 

“Me Personally, I’d definitely survive in the quiet place. Like all you have to do is be quiet, it’s easy.”

You nod your head slowly, paying no attention to Ony’s statement. Your fingers are flying across your phone, you’re having a deep conversation with Eren. Ony looks over at you and rolls his eyes, you can feel his attitude radiating off of him and steam coming out of his ears.

“My nigga, you’re not even listening to me,” 

“First, I’m not ‘your nigga’. Secondly, I am listening…”

You trail off after hearing your phone go off with a ding. You snatch your phone out of your lap quickly and start typing away. He gives you the most crazed look he can muster. 

“Nigga, are you f’real?”

You look over at Ony’s reaction and the fact that he’s acting like such a drama queen right now. There’s no way he’s hurt by the fact that you’re talking to other people. He’s the one who made the rules in the first place, so why does he care who you talk to? He’s starting to regret his rule-making skills. Your flawless brown skin-pops with your white hoodie and sweatpants to match. Even before y’all started hooking up he thought you were the most beautiful person ever. 

“Damn, what the fuck are you talking about? Are you good?”

You frowned at his outburst, confused by the sudden change in tone. You finally put your phone to the side and put your attention on Ony. 

“You’ve been on your phone this whole fucking time. Paying absolutely no attention to me or the movie. Who are you even texting?”

“No One-” 

Ding..

Ony groans before snatching your phone out of your lap and softly pushing you back from getting it. You get up from your position on the couch and start reaching over his head but his grip on your wrist won’t budge. 

“Let’s see who you’re so fucking focused on…”

He looks at the screen and goes silent before turning his head at you. You’re standing there with an overly irked look, hands on your hips, and eyeing him up and down.

“...Eren!? Eren fucking Jeager!? Don’t tell me you’re actually talking to that sorry ass nigga?’

You roll your eyes at his possessiveness. There’s no reason why he should be concerned about who you text and who you decide to mingle with. It’s your pussy and can determine who it wants, right? 

“It’s not something you should be concerned about. Shit, just give me the dick so I can leave, that’s why you called me over right?”

His eyes go wide at your boldness. He can’t tell if you’re upset or just trying to rile him up—either way, it’s making him go insane. 

“Take that bass out yo’ voice mama. I’m looking out for you, Eren isn’t the type you want. Stop talking to that nigga”

He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue showing clear signs of irritation. His baritone voice sends chills down your spine. Even when he’s irritated he still looks handsome, the warning look in his eyes makes your pussy clench.

“Who are you talking to right now? I ain’t gotta do shit, f’real. I’m not gonna let some Chiptole bag-tatted ass nigga tell me what the fuck to do.” 

Ony’s eyes are bulging out of his head and the vein on his forehead is starting to grow. He isn't fond of your attitude, he snatched you up multiple times because of it. He slowly gets up from his spot on the couch, now looking down at you with a dark look in his eye. 

“Watch your tone…”

He says eerily calm, his low voice coming out as silk to your ears. It’s like he’s talking directly to your pussy and she’s listening to every word he’s saying. Instead of standing down like he said you decide to stand on business, which is one mistake amongst many.

“Make me, nigga..”

You scuffed and rolled your eyes. That statement alone made Ony let out a rich chuckle, his face displaying a cheeky smirk. Before you even have time to gauge his actions you feel his callous hand wrap around your neck, forcing you to look up at him.

“Make you what? Say it again..”

He whispers seductively in your ear. You turn away from him before he roughly drags your face back to his. You shake your head not wanting to even breathe, You started this mess now he has to finish it. 

“The cock slut doesn’t wanna speak, huh? Take off your clothes since you want my dick so badly.”

The tent in his pants is now noticeable. He lets go of your neck and sits back down on the couch. You start untying your sweatpants, then slowly taking over your panties, followed by your hoodie and bra. Now you’re standing in front of him, all dignity stripped away with your clothes. 

“Get on your knees and suck this dick, I’ll show you exactly how to watch that mouth one of yours.” 

You nod before sitting in front of him unbuckling his belt. You slide down his pants to reveal his bulging cock through his underwear. You slowly pull down his underwear, earning a scuff from Ony. He pushes your hand away and pulls his cock out himself. His leaking mushroom tip was just inches away from his face. 

“Open your mouth.”

His passionless voice makes your clit throb and your stomach drop. He’s giving you no mercy tonight and you know that. You open your mouth wide as directed and impatiently wait for his next. He chuckles at how pitiful you look at this moment, taking a mental snapshot in his head. You’re waiting for his next command, your hand in between your thighs as you subtly grind on your hand for some type of friction. He grabs the base of his cock and slaps the tip on your tongue. 

“You like this shit, don’t you? Go on, suck it.”

You wrap your plump lips around his big cock, bobbing your head slowly. You trace circles around his tip with your tongue. He lets out a string of groans, feeling your warm mouth wrapped around his cock. He grabs the back of your neck and pushes you down on his cock roughly. You gag when his cock grazes the back of your throat with force. Tears swell in your eyes as he fucks your face senselessly. The vibrations of your moans drive him crazy, your muffled moans and tears send him over the edge. 

“Mhm…Swallow this cock—fuck”

His head lays on the couch cushion behind him. His hand travels from your neck to the back of your head, gripping your hair harshly. Your faux locs are now scrunched up in his hand. He starts pushing your head down rougher as his pace starts getting sloppy. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth and hot tears flow down your face. 

“Fuck–I’m about to cum. Make me cum, slut.” 

You moan at his command, your fingers travel down to your soaked pussy, and start massaging your aching clit. You hollow your cheeks and bob your head at his messy tempo pushing him closer and closer to his climax. White ropes shoot down your throat, and the warm thick substance slides your throat. His dick flops out your mouth with a ‘pop’. You rub fast circles on your clit wanting to cum as hard as he did. Right before you make it you feel Ony grab your wrist, halting any movement. 

“Who said you could touch yourself? Get up…”

You pout at your ruined orgasm. You get up before he grabs your waist and pulls you onto his lap. Your ass grazes his cock and your back is to his chest. He spreads your legs and hands as he traces small circles on your clit. Your head falls back in satisfaction, he smoothly inserts two of his long fingers inside your damp cunt. You grab his arm roughly, leaving dark nail marks on his tatted skin. His finger moves in and out of you with wet sounds accompanying it. 

“F…fuck…right there..”

You whine into his neck when you feel his pace quicken. He’s knuckles deep inside of you, the speed of his strokes increasing by the second. He chuckles at the sight, you’re drooling, your eyes screwed shut, and pornographic moans flooding the living room.

He groans as you squirm in his lap, your bare ass rubbing against his hard cock. He uses his other hand to rub your sensitive clit. Your grip tightens on his arm, your nail prints getting deeper every time he picks up his pace. His fingers plunging into your cunt with such speed and aggression brings you closer to your orgasm. 

“F—Fuck…s…slow down…I’m about…to—”

Ony chuckles before pausing his movement. He removes his fingers from your sloppy pussy and trails his hand over to your ass and gives it a small squeeze. 

“Only good girls get to cum. C’mon, face down ass up. Right now.” 

You whine at the absence of friction and he gives your ass a hard ‘Smack’ in response. He tossed you over to the other side of the couch before turning you on your stomach. He slides his cock on your warm slit, teasing your greedy pussy. He gives your ass a sharp slap before plunging his cock into your pussy without warning. 

You let out a porno-worthy moan and grab one of the couch cushions for stability. Ony quickly picks up the pace, abusing your cervix with every stroke. He gives your ass a couple of harsh slaps before grabbing the back of your neck and pushing your face into the couch cushion. The living room is overflowing with moans, grunts, and the sound of your sopping wet pussy. You put your hand back to stop Ony’s forceful thrust. 

“S—Shit…slo—ow…down…fuck” 

“Nah, Take this shit…Fuck, you’re such a slut.” 

Ony slaps your hand away before placing both of his hands on your hips, pulling you deeper into every thrust. You stifle your moans with your both as the bully of your pussy continues. 

‘Ding’

‘Ding’

You hear him groan as his strokes cease. He grabs your phone from the other side of the couch before scoffing at the name. 

“What the fuck does this lame ass nigga want?... Hold on.” 

You can hear the smirk in his voice, his cock going at a slower pace than before. You let out a few whimpers that earn you a harsh slap on your already stinging ass. 

“Hush…” 

His monotone voice sends chills down your spine. You have no clue what's going on behind you until you notice the shadow of your silhouette on the neighboring wall. 

‘Is that a flashlight? Wait…is he recording?’

Before you can confirm your answer he goes back to abusing your pussy. You muffle a moan with the pillow in front of you. He presses your body against the couch, the only thing talking is the wetness of your pussy.

“Shit…She’s talking to me, mama. C’mon, tell him who this pussy belongs to.”

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out but slutty moans. He gives your ass a hard smack, placing his free hand on your lower back. 

“Y-You! F—Fuck!... You do! You own this…mmph…slutty pussy!”

You choke out, completely cock drunk. You hear him chuckle and groan. You pussy turning him into a mess also. His strokes begin to get messy and you feel his cock twitch inside of you. 

“Shit mama…cum on my cock baby .”

He reaches his free hand around to trace circles on your clit.  Almost like clockwork, you leave your juices all over his cock and coat his shaft in a slippery mess. You feel his tip hit your G-spot a few more times before you feel his warm and sticky cum engulf your inside. His cock is covered in both of your juices, a ring of the mix at the base of his cock. 

Your brain is fogged with lust, you can barely think right now. All you can see are stars and darkness before finally feeling him pull out. 

“Did my dick feel good?”

“Mhm…”

“You’re my slut, right?”

“Mhm…” 

“Thank you, mama."

[Sent: 1 Attachment.]

[pynkfairyheart]

pairings: Onyankopon x black reader

warnings: Jean slander, smut 18+

Need you

“And then the bitch scoffed and rolled her eyes like I didn't just apologize. I need to find a new place asap cause I swear next time she try me Imma fuck her up- “

“What I tell you bout cussing?” Ony’s deep voice filled the room, dark eyes piercing into yours as a warning.

“Anywaysss” You rolled your eyes, ignoring the side eye he was giving. “You’ve been awfully quiet since I came over. What’s going on?” You put your freshly manicured feet in his face.

“Nothing you’ve just been yapping the whole time.” He smirked.

“Rude” You gasped, nudging him with your toes.

“Nah I'm just chillin’. You know I like listening to you talk.” He shrugged, placing your legs into his lap. Lighting the blunt he just rolled, a cloud of smoke surrounding him as he took a hit.

“Whatever” You smiled as he passed it to you.

You and Ony often had moments like these, a smoke sesh usually spent with you talking about your week as he massaged your feet. Your relationship with Ony was…complicated. Ever since Sasha introduced you two, y'all were inseparable, constantly getting mistaken for a couple, and who could blame them?

Most thought this because Ony always had to be touching you, whether it was holding your hand, an arm around your shoulder, or a tight grip on your waist. However, for some, it was how you two would always disappear during the function. Claiming you were only talking, but the slight sheen on Ony’s lips and your slightly ruffled clothing told otherwise.

You weren’t quite friends with benefits. At least that's what you told yourselves. The whole ordeal just kinda happened. You were stressed over your midterms and Ony of course offered to help you study. Though after hours of reading flashcards and practice tests, you were still stressed and on the verge of tears when Ony offered another way to help you. That night you ended up with your legs in the air as Ony sucked the soul out of your pussy. Ever since then any inconvenience one had, the other would do their best to help relieve the stress. Your roommate upset you? Ony fed you long deep strokes, pampering you with soft kisses while he whispered in your ear. Ony was pissed that his supplier flaked on him? Ony would have the tightest grip on your hips as he drilled into you from behind, claiming the waves of your ass hypnotized him into forgetting what he was upset about. Some days neither of you needed an excuse. Some days you just craved each other.

Despite your unique relationship, you remained friends allowing the other to do what they pleased, though neither you nor Ony slept with or saw other people. Your dynamic was good and worked for both of you. That was until you started seeing Jean.

“You n that nigga Jean still fuckin around?” He broke the silence, waiting for your answer as your eyes met his.

“Ony” You groaned, the tight grip he had on your ankles preventing you from moving.

“What? I can’t ask you questions now?” He kissed his teeth, putting out the blunt.

“No, because any time you ask about Jean we end up getting into an argument and I’m really enjoying my time with you right now. So no, you cannot ask.”

“Whatever. I’m just tryna figure out when you gon stop playing in my face nd be with me instead of his bitchass.”

“Onyankopon '' You shrieked. You never understood why Ony hated Jean till a few weeks ago when Ony drunkenly confessed his feelings. At first, you thought he was joking but the look on his face told you otherwise. For a minute, you were happy. Ony was everything you had wanted in a boyfriend and you two had practically been in a relationship just without the labels. It wasn't till Jean texted you that you got upset. Why confess his feelings when you're finally in a relationship? Deciding it'd be best to forget about it, you put Ony to bed, hoping he'd also forget about his confession. Clearly, you were wrong.

“What? I don't understand what you see in him. He's annoying as fuck, and I'm pretty sure he has 4 brain cells. Maximum.” He rolled his eyes at the thought of Jean. “Why won't you give me a chance when I'm the one for you?”

“We've talked about this Ony.” You sighed. Conversations like these were becoming frequent and they were so tiring.

“No mama you've talked nd I've listened.” You thought about it, he wasn’t exactly wrong. Silently praying this wouldn't end up in an argument you gave him a chance.

“Okay. I'm listening.” You whispered.

“C’mere,” He released your ankles.

“Ony I’m not gonna-”

“[☆]” The dominance in his tone had you clenching around nothing.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you did as he told. The moment you sat on his lap you just knew how it was going to end.

“Why you with him instead of me? And don't feed me no bullshit” His large hands were rubbing up and down your thighs getting dangerously close to your pussy that desperately ached for him.

You tried and you tried but there wasn't any good reason as to why you were Jean. Sure he was cute but he had no idea how to make you feel special and overall just couldn't please you. In multiple ways. The main reason though was that he wasn’t Ony. He just asked first.

“I don't know, Ony” You finally sighed, looking everywhere but him.

Any discipline you had when it came to Ony vanished when his hand wrapped around your throat, the slight pressure on your carotid causing your brain to go fuzzy and your panties to get damp “Look at me”

“Be real. Please” Ony released his hold on your neck to grip your thighs.

“You had the longest opportunity to ask me to be with you but you never took the chance, yet when I'm finally in a relationship you suddenly wanna give up everything and take a chance to be with me and I feel like that’s not fair to me Ony.”

He rubbed his hands down his face with a sigh. “You're right.”

"I did have that opportunity and always hesitated. I always assumed it would be just you and me, that you wouldn't pursue other relationships because of our bond. Since the day we met, I've wanted you. I know this is unfair and I'm so sorry princess, but I can't ignore my feelings any longer. Jean can't possibly be the man you want, the man you deserve. But I can. I promise to take the chance if you just give me another opportunity, and I'll do everything in my power to make you proud. You’re my best friend, my favorite person in the whole universe and I'm determined to be the person you need. I love you [☆].”

“Ony” you huffed, feeling as if all air was being vacuumed out of your lungs at his confession.

“Please. Lemme show you how much I love you.” He whispered, closing the distance that separated you. “Please” He captured your lips, his usual sweet taste with a hint of spiciness from the weed clouding your thoughts. Oh, how you missed this. Missed him. The kiss was intimate and familiar, the passion growing with each second. Ony’s hands roamed your body, gripping the soft flesh of your thighs before traveling to your ass, taking pleasure in the soft moan you let out, and using the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. On instinct, your hips rocked down onto him.

“Fuck, baby. I missed you” He groaned, flipping you onto your back.

“Ony we can’t” You huffed, despite the wetness growing in between your thighs. God he looked so good. His muscles bulged as he took his shirt off, your eyes trailed down his torso, mouth watering at the prominent v-line peeking from his low sitting sweats.

“Do you want this? Yes, or no?” His tongue traced lazy patterns on your skin as he littered your neck with kisses.

“Ony I-”

“Yes or no [☆]?” He nipped on your earlobe, hand dipping below the waistband of your leggings.

“Fuck, Ony” his hand slipped beneath the thin fabric of your thong, fingers slipping through your folds. Gathering your arousal before circling your clit in tight circles. “Yes, please”

“Then shut up and lemme show you how much I love you” He murmured as he undressed you. Replacing his fingers with his tongue, he lapped at your folds like a starved man, his tongue repeatedly flicking your clit. “Missed you so fucking much. Don't ever give my pussy away again. You hear me?” He muttered, sliding two digits past your entrance. The action was easy with how wet you were.

“Ony” Your thighs threatened to close around his head.

“Answer me or I'm stopping” He slowed his movements, leaving you needy.

“It's yours. I'm yours pa, I promise” Your legs shook as he continued to give you slow strokes, the addition of another finger having you seeing stars. “O-Ony wait” You panted, attempting to push his head away but he refused to let up on your pussy, never wanting to stop till he and his couch were soaked in your essence as he lapped at your clit.

“Ony I’m so-fuck I'm so close” Your words encouraged him to speed up as he repeatedly hit the spongy spot of your walls. “Ony” Your walls clenched around his fingers, leaving little room for his fingers to continue as you reached your peak.

Despite your thighs tightening around his head he continued his assault on your pussy. It wasn't until he was finally satisfied with slurping up your arousal, that he pulled away pressing gentle kisses on your throbbing clit as he pulled his soaked fingers out of your walls.

“Missed you so much” He mumbled, giving you the nastiest kiss ever, your arousal all over his lower face.

“I missed you too”

“Yeah?” He grabbed your hips, positioning you on all fours.

“Ony” You whined, pout forming on your lips as you looked back. His dick standing tall now that it was no longer confined. God, please let me have feeling in my legs tomorrow.

“I know you ain't think I was done. You played in my face and let another nigga hit and think I'm not finna put you back in your place? Nah, both you and this pussy need a reminder of who you belong to” He slid his dick through your folds, your cream acting as lube.

“Matter a fact” He lined up at your entrance just as your phone started ringing ‘Jean baby’ flashing on the bright screen.

“Lemme show this nigga too.”

first time ever writing smut nd even though it was short it took me foreverrr but i think it turned out okay. also so sorry for all my Jean girlies out there lol. anyways i hope you enjoyed nd any feedback is greatly appreciated. mwah

[mermaidfanficlibrary]

If only I could hold you through a screen

Characters: Venti, Zhongli, Xiao, Ei, Yae Miko, Nahida, Wanderer, Furina, Neuvillette

Summary: Self Aware Archons and their companions react to you crying as you stare at them in the character screen, they try to comfort you but all they hear you say is "I wish you were here with me."

Warnings: Reader is crying, possessive behavior, immense anger, violent thoughts

A/U: Self aware genshin AU

A/n: IM BACK FROM THE DEAD GUYS!!! This is platonic on Nahida's end

VENTI

He was devastated as you gently sobbed, staring at his character in the character menu. He only wished to play you a song to ease the pain you were feeling. Who or what could make a God, no, the creator cry? He was more upset the more he thought of the possibilities of what made you break down.

“I-I…wish you…were with me.” 

As those words spilled out of your mouth, all choked out with sobs following each word, Venti could feel a tear roll down his face. Venti pulled out his lyre, doing one of his idle animations in hopes of cheering you up. On his side, he was playing you the most relaxing tune in all of Tevat! 

But it was blocked by the code. You could distantly hear it, however, if you listened close enough. You drift off as you focus on the secret melody, leaving Venti with a solemn smile. Seeing your peaceful sleeping face brought the Anemo Archon a sense of calm. 

As your screen dimmed due to inactivity, the more he wished to hug and comfort you. He couldn’t wish for anything more than to wipe your tears away and comfort you. He gently slowed the tune as your screen turned off. There was only one thought he had, and whispered out to comfort himself.

“One day, no tears will be shed when I’m with you, my dear god.”

ZHONGLI

He didn’t understand when you just started sobbing when you stared at him in the character menu. He started to panic the more you cried staring at him. Something in him broke the longer he heard you cry. He thought he had did something wrong to hurt you, but that suspicion was broken when you spoke through broken sobs. 

“I wish you were with me…”

That’s when his heart shattered. He started to mumble to himself, a mix of comforting words directed at you and words comforting himself. The more you focused on him, the more you could hear him speak outside his code. Out of anger, he did his idle with his little rock spinning around him. 

He wished it hit whoever, or whatever, had hurt you. Seeing you cry brought this strong protectiveness over you. Seeing you this fragile was new to him, and the fact that the creator could be sad slightly scared him. He wished for nothing more than to be there to comfort you.

Due to the exhaustion of crying, you started to fall asleep. The more your screened dimmed more and more as you dozed off to sleep, Zhongli could only imagine one thing in his mind. He mumbled it out loud, and you smiled as you could faintly hear it.

“I will protect you soon, there will be no need for you to feel any more tears roll down your pretty cheeks.”

XIAO

The fact that such a higher being such as yourself could cry surprised him. And him not being able to handle human like emotions didn’t help either. He only stared in disbelief and guilt as he couldn’t be there for you. He’s asked those around him what he should do when someone close to him cries, but never thought he needed to try the advice he was given with you. 

Your broken sobs did so much to his already aching heart. And hearing you scream into a nearby cushion made him even more angry. He wanted to purge whatever or whoever did this to you. You stared at his character, he was doing his mask idle due to his increasing anger and sadness watching you, which had only increased as you mumbled to him in broken sobs.  

“I w-wish y-you were h-here with me.”

His anger only increased, he tried so hard to keep his adeptal energy under control. Nothing could stop his racing mind and what could have happened to you out of playing the game. He wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. Seeing you in this much pain, straining to talk as you sobbed into a cushion, didn’t help his urges. 

He calmed down as he saw your sleeping face. You dozed off, and his eyes were stuck on your resting eyes. A wave of peace had cleared his angry head, his fists now relaxing. As your screen dimmed, his voice was faint and soft.

“Nothing will make you cry ever again when I’m around, I swear it.”

EI

Your tears fell as you stared at the Raiden Shogun, the puppet, in the character screen. Sensing your saddened presence, Ei had switched her consciousness to see what that matter was. Her eyes widened as you stared at her with a heavy breath and shaky eyes. She didn’t understand what had gotte you so upset. 

Seeing you cry hurt her so much as she stared at you through the puppet’s eyes. Ei wanted nothing more than your happiness to last for eternity. Her electro energy was becoming too much, while her consciousness possessed the puppet you had stared at. Her electro ball animation seemed a lot more aggressive than normal as she heard your screaming voice. 

“I wish you were here with me!”

She felt touched at first that you wanted her with you. She wanted you with her too for so long. But your scream made her anger even more prominent. She couldn’t bring herself to look away as you choked back sobs, your breath uneven. The more you calmed down, the more she started to relax. 

She saw your exhausted, tear stained face and felt her heart, outside the puppet, long for your embrace. She wanted nothing more than for you to be in her Plane of Euthymia, where no one would ever hurt you. Your soft breaths made her smile as your tears stopped. As the screen dimmed, her soothing voice spoke. 

“You will be safe with me soon enough, my dearest creator.”

YAE MIKO

She seemed confused at first as you were stuck on the character menu. But seeing your tears made her quickly understand what was going on. Someone had hurt you, and they needed to be dealt with. Your crying got louder and she couldn’t help her growing anger. 

Just as you stuttered out words, a bird had flown to her finger before her very angry fox spirit friend tried to bite it. She may have been smiling, but her anger was bubbling over. Hearing your weak and stuttering voice speak pulled her attention away from her angry fox spirit. She felt so honored to hear those words from you. 

“I-I w-wish y-you w-were w-with m-me.”

She had to hold herself back from electrifying everything right there in the menu. She was so focused on who had done this to you, she had started to plot. She wanted to humiliate and hurt those that had disgraced you. No one should be treating a deity of your caliber with such disrespect. 

Yae Miko smirked as she saw you shrink and fall asleep on the place you were sitting. The more the screen dimmed, the more her eyes glowed with mischievous intent. She hummed to herself as she plotted the demise of those that made you cry. Her voice was smooth as she hummed her words through her teeth. 

“My my, your protection will soon come from the familiar of the Electro Archon my dear god, so please have patience with me~.”

NAHIDA

Nahida wanted to understand why you felt so sad. She was only a baby Archon after all, she looked to you for guidance on human emotions seeing as you had similar ones. But your crying to her had worried her, as she was ill-equipped to help. Nothing in her mind mattered, only you smiling down on her and giving her your happy aura.

She thought of so many ways to try to cheer you up. She did her string to people idle, trying her best to remind you that she is your friend and is there for you. She did what she could, trying to show you how much you were cared for. Her heart broke as she realized her efforts weren’t working. 

“I wish you were here with me.”

She smiled up at you, noticing how the tears stained your face. She was so grateful that a deity like you wanted her, even if she was an inexperienced Archon. She had worshiped you greatly, and only wished to see you smile. Her mind wasn’t on those that had hurt you, but on you feeling better at the moment. 

Seeing you fall asleep brought a smile to her face. You being asleep brought her hope that she could finally meet you in your dreams and bring you comfort. She looked at your now relaxed face, your screen dimming. Once you had fallen into a calm slumber, her voice spoke in hopes to bring you reassurance in your sleep. 

“I promise to protect you in your dreams, so no more tears, oh wise one!”

WANDERER

You were staring at him in the character menu, as tears rolled down your face. It scared him, thoughts of worry and panic, thinking he had done something to displease you. But the more you just stared at him, the more he could tell that it was something else that bothered you. Anger replaced the panic as you started to sob.

He never understood how human emotions worked, and a deity like you having those emotions were new to him. The more your soft sobs caught his ears, the more uncomfortable he felt. He started summoning his anemo ball, doing the start of his idle, but the anemo ball kept getting bigger the longer he held it. The anemo energy then dissipated as he was surprised by your mumbling. 

“I wish you…were…here with me…””

He was caught so off guard when you said that. He felt like it wasn’t fair for you to say that out of nowhere, especially when you were this sad. He thought you were joking, you wanting a puppet like him to be with you to help bring you comfort. He looked into your eyes and saw the exhaustion in them. 

Seeing you fall asleep in front of him was like a gift. He knew it would help you feel better, but something in him wanted to cuddle you while you drifted off. Anger gripped him once more, how could anyone make you cry was the only thought in his head. Subconsciously, he spoke, hoping you heard him.

“Those lousy vermin don’t deserve you. They will know their place once I’m with you.”

FURINA

Furina never understood how to handle someone crying, especially since she was one to bottle up her emotions and hide them away from others. But seeing you like this made her softly smile, it meant you trusted her to be emotional and raw. The next emotion that came barreling in was anger. Anger at those that had made you so sad. 

Her mind raced as she tried to think of a way to cheer you up from the other side. She started holding her water seahorse as she was doing her idle, trying to cheer you up. Her face was left with a shocked expression as she held her water seahorse closer, not ready for you to mumble out to her. 

“I wish you were here…with me.”

Those words made her eyes flutter to yours. You wanted her, no one else, her to be with you as you cried. Her ego and stature wad boosted as she straightened her posture. She wanted to reach a hand out to your cheek to stroke your tears away. 

Her sense of justice was strong, and she’d bring anyone to justice in your name. Especially if they had made you cry like this. The screen dimmed as she was so focused on your crying state. She was so caught up in her theatric mind, she didn’t notice either you falling asleep and her loud proclamation that you swore you heard. 

“I will make laws just to make it so if anything makes you cry, they will have to stand justice in front of the Hydro Archon herself!”

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette wasn’t ready for you to stare at him in the character menu with teary eyes. He wasn’t new to tears and sadness, but your sadness was something fresh to him. He wanted to do something about it, wanting to bring those to justice if they had hurt you. Little droplets of rain started to fall around him. 

He did his rain idle as his sadness increased, seeing you stuttering through your cries. He was saddened that the one being he looked up to felt so much sadness. There was a guilt as he felt happy that someone as important as you could have vulnerable moments. The surrounding rain in his idle poured harder as you stuttered out something softly in your tears.

“I w-wish you w-were h-here with m-me.”

He couldn’t stop his rain animation after hearing you speak. Your vulnerable voice and stutters made his eyes widen, he couldn’t bring himself to think that you could be this hurt. It worried him as he only wanted to be with you. He wanted to comfort you properly and not from the confines of code and screen that held him. 

The rain started to stop as he saw you falling asleep. He understood that you had a raw emotional moment and only thought that sleep was much needed. He thought of ways to bring those that made you cry to trial, not sure how they would get there in the first place, however. The screen dimmed more as he only stared at you. 

“Those who made you cry will be judged by the Oratrice itself. So save your tears, my lovely god, for when we can cry together.”

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[countlessimagines]

Downfall [ Five Hargreeves x Reader ]

Summary: No matter the timeline, you and Five never get your chance.

A/N: well I think I can agree with everyone that season four was not good… so my way of coping is making angsty imagines for it… I’m trying to cope with the fact this is the last time we will ever see them ): This is also super short, apologies

Warnings: Season Four Spoilers

MASTERLIST LINK

-

Five had seen multiple timelines with Lila throughout their time spent together. And in almost every single one they saw, you were dead by the hands of him or vice versa. Eventually it became normal to see you mourning Five or him taking revenge for you.

Lila could see how distressing it was for him to see every timeline play out the same for the both of you.

Fate never seemed to be on your side, and even in your timeline, Five never had the courage to tell you his feelings. Despite spending six years by his side, being his roommate, helping him with cases, being there emotionally for him… he never seemed to catch on to the fact that you held feelings for him, too.

On one of their multiple train rides, Lila tried to address what the two of you meant to each other, but Five didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Because he feared the moment he’d open up, fate would play it’s cruel trick again and guarantee he would never see you again.

So he buried it deep within himself so it would not haunt him.

-

For you, it was mere hours you had last seen Five. You had helped Allison and Claire rescue Klaus from being buried alive, and had found your way to Lila and Diego’s home.

Everything seemed to be alright, and although you could sense something was wrong with Five, you didn’t have the energy to ask, simply from the long day you were all having.

However, you didn’t fail to notice the looks Lila and Five were sharing. It made not only you suspicious, but Diego as well. It was started to grow more and more tense as he pried information from them.

It almost felt as if your heart was being ripped out of your chest, being stomped on by the universe, as Five and Lila confessed of their infidelity.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to console Diego or slap Five.

You decided on the latter before storming out of the house. Diego tried to stop Five from chasing after you, but Five was quicker and blinked to your side.

“Let me explain.”

“Get away from me!” You screamed as you exited the house. Nobody followed the two of you, so you only assumed Lila was in the hot seat.

“(Y/n)! Stop acting like a child and listen.” Five grabbed your arm and whipped you around to face him. He was close now, his breath fanning your face.

“How could I listen to the fact you and Lila shared such an intimate relationship while I have been waiting years for you to do the same with me.” You made sure to throw your words in his face, making all of your emotions clear as day. Pretending to not hold feelings for him was beginning to weigh you down, so you needed to let go of those weights now.

“All we did was kiss,” Five said it like it was the most simple action in the world. “One kiss and we realized our mistake immediately. We got wrapped up in our own little bubble and forgot the important things. I just… I couldn’t handle seeing you die anymore…”

“What?” You pushed away from him. Had he seen a timeline with you dead?

“I… we don’t get a happy ending in any timelines. No matter what we do, we fail to be together.” Five sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I lost hope that even if we got back, it would lead to our demise.”

You didn’t know what to say to him as your heart began to beat uncontrollably.

He looked into your tear filled eyes and said, “I want to be with you, but I don’t want to kill you.”

“I don’t want to be with someone who, after forty years in the apocalypse, couldn’t even keep his heart on one person for seven years. It doesn’t matter if you realized your mistake, Five. I’ve been here the whole time waiting for you. I took care of you when you came home bloodied. I stayed up with you while you had panic attacks. I made sure that you had coffee brewed every morning.”

Five felt ashamed he had let everything you had done for him go to waste with his one mistake. “I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“Maybe I’ll be the bigger person and actually forgive you, because I know deep inside I am that person. And I for sure know you aren’t because you kissed your brother’s wife, Five.” You scoffed and wiped away your tears. “Good luck with that.”

You began to walk towards your car without another word, and Five just watched as you left.

He was smart enough to know that if he chased you, it would lead to a grave.

And not too long after, he would sacrifice himself with his family, his last thoughts only consisted of you and how much he failed your relationship. Some selfish part of him hoped that he’d come back, to be able to see you again.

But the more rational side of him knew that he would never touch you again.

Because for once, you would be able to live in a peaceful timeline without him there to cause your downfall.

[tbaluver]

Hiii , can I ask for headcanons on how LaDs boys act around an introverted reader?

(´｡• ᵕ •｡) Hope you have a good day♡

When You're Introverted- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: hihi anonnie ! i hope this was alright and you enjoy! have a good day/ night! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He enjoys spending quiet quality time together with you. Whether it's your shared activities or your own favorite separate activities. Overall he just adores spending time with you. He would find activities for the two of you to do. He'll try to learn about the things you take pleasure in.

He'll help you with things you weren't comfortable doing. He's always ready to speak for you. If you were nervous to order your own food or if your order was wrong then he would happily talk to the waiter and do everything for you. If you wanted to do anything outgoing, then he would gladly help you get comfortable doing so. He'll be right by your side the entire time.

He did not mind you were an introvert. Sometimes you two would sit in comfortable silence when you didn't have anything to talk about it and he would enjoy it. He'll mostly just drift off into sleep but you didn't take any offense to that because you know how sleepy he can be.

Some of your dates includes late night strolls with him or anywhere that isn't crowded. One of your favorites is watching the stars in the park at night. It would be peaceful and quiet especially since there wouldn't be that many people around. He would just love you for you and treat you as his equal.

Zayne:

As an introvert himself, he understood you pretty well. He doesn't mind it all either. When you're together, there's a peaceful, easy silence that feels just right. There's no pressure to talk between the two of you. Most of your dates are in quiet, less crowded places so you both can feel comfortable and relaxed.

Or if you don't want to go out in public then you both can spend time at home. He doesn't mind as long as he's with you. You both can spend the evening curled up on the couch reading something or watching a movie together while enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

He would probably be the one to initiate anything intimate like hand holding. He would ask if you were okay with it or if you were comfortable. He would slowly intertwine his fingers with yours and finds your flustered face adorable. A small smile would slowly appear on his face. Or small affections like kissing you at the top of your head or cheek until your more comfortable to do more.

Your talks can range to a lot of topics. He's one of the best listeners ever and he'll listen intently to anything you have to say. The space that you two make in the relationship is very safe and understanding. He appreciates your thoughtful insights and enjoys having conversations with you.

Rafayel:

He has no problem if you were an introvert. He is patient to wait until you were comfortable around with him. He would start off by including you with activities or ask your opinions on things until the comfortable air starts to form between you two. He would respect your needs for space and alone time or if you needed to recharge your social battery.

At first it took you some time to open up to him but once you did, Rafayel was really happy about it. The misconceptions of introverts don't talk isn't true, it just depends on the right person so when talking with Rafayel it just seemed natural and it clicked. You can talk to him for hours and he was more than happy to listen and talk with you more. The times you would laugh at something, he would always comment that he loves hearing you laugh.

He loves that you're a great listener and he even enjoys quiet time together. While you do your own thing, he'll be right beside you painting or sketching while music is playing in the background.

He would invite you to his exhibitions and would stay by your side as he talks with the sponsors or directors. If you felt like you wanted to leave then he is more than happy to leave his own art exhibition with you and take you somewhere more quiet and peaceful. He'll deal with an upset Thomas later.

Sylus:

He doesn't mind if you were introverted one bit. He finds it to be quite adorable at times.

When you were comfortable enough, he loves to listen to you talk about anything you were interested in. He loved hearing you talk about your passions and anything you wanted to talk about. He would also respect it if you wanted some alone time until you were ready to hang out again.

He would stick by you if he invited you to any big event. He knows you can start to get nervous with all the people around you so he would either have his hand on your back and stroke it softly to calm you down or he would hold your hand and give it a gentle squeeze for reassurance. He knows that you don't like having attention drawn to you so he will happily take the lead in any conversation you don't want.

If you two were at a restaurant and you didn't receive your order right, he'll handle it for you. He'll be the one to call the waiter and ask if they can bring you the right order. He'll also be the one to order your food and happily pay for the purchases himself.

He takes care of everything calmly. Especially when any scenario could happen or if you felt uncomfortable. He will ask if you want him to do something about it.

[sashi-ya]

𝑪𝑼𝑻𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑭𝑹𝑬𝑬𝑫𝑶𝑴 「 part 1 」 soshiro hoshina x f! officer! reader

a/n: yes! first Kaiju no. 8 fic ever! idk how many of you would like to read from Kaiju but I've been obsessed with it lately, and especially with Soshiro. it's pretty short and wrote it cause I needed to think of other things after studying. So yeah, enjoy! tw: there aren't "sex" scenes, however mdni as it has suggestive language, nudity and mature content. (thank god for this manga having almost every character above 25!). Pretty much inspired on Soshi's backstory from Kaiju no 8 side B, so expect fluff too. what happened on the following days? more Soshiro smut, here. masterlist

“I can’t take the suit off” you murmur, trying to lower the front zipper. The mission took much more than what you expected, and the kaiju stench is making you nauseous.

For the time being, most of your squad members have already jumped into the showers. But you, still trying to get out of the suit, haven’t.

“I… this shit… why is it not working?” you protest, forcing the zipper more and more, but it hasn’t been able to go down past the beginning of your chest.

You try to look for the intercom; pressing it to call the Operations leader Konomi, will surely help you out with the captive suit. But, you can’t find it. Did you lose the little intercom before coming back to the base? Or did it fell around there?

Everything seems to be flaunting tonight. It’s late, you are tired. You’ve been hit several times by different Kaiju, but none of them -luckily- was able to injure you.

However, you begin to feel an incredible -and uncontrollable- heat coming from the suit itself and reaching the inner layers of your skin and organs.

You don’t panic. At first.

You definitely panic two minutes later, when the heat is unbearable and the pain in such restrictive jail is almost deadly.

“Help…” you whine, not loud enough to be heard by anyone else. Or at least, definitely not enough to be listened over the lively chattering coming from the showers.

But it hurts, as much as the acid of those despicable monsters when their core explode. And it really begins to interfere with your breathing, and thus, with your consciousness.

“Help me… I’m burning…” you scream louder this time. But no one comes, and your knees hit the ground in pain.

Tears flood up your eyes, your nails aren’t enough to tear the thick skin of Izumo Techs’ innovative suit. No guns are enough, probably, even if you had the chance to go grab yours… it wouldn’t be useful.

You pray, you wish for someone to cut that trap into pieces.

“H- help… me…” “WHAT IS IT?!”

In between blurred eyes and painful frown, you device an angel of slanted eyes and deep purple hair.

“I… the suit… it’s boiling… it’s overheating… I can’t take it off” you grasp a little bit of air and try to communicate -effectively- the reason of your suffering.

“Stay quiet” he commands, and you comply. There is nothing you wouldn’t do to go against his orders.

An immediate relief comes with enough cuts that you couldn’t even see. Completely naked, completely soaked in sweat. There you lay, panting, with still stings of pain reverberating all over your skin.

“Come here” he says, ripping the remaining pieces off the suit still ferally attached to your burning skin. And as feral as the suit is, the feral his hands are when ripping its pieces away.

“Vice-captain Hoshina… th-thank you…” you cry, completely unaware of your impure show off.

His eyes open widely, and for the first time you see the beautiful bloody irises he usually keeps hidden away. But his expression is not jovial, nor even neutral. He is by far worried.

Probably for the first time in ages, the blades have fallen to the ground and with those same hands he saved your life he hurries to carry you to the men’s showers.

At the speed of light, cold water begins to gush from the showerheads. Your body feels instant relief; so much there is even some vapor coming from your skin.

As it bathes you, it also bathes him.  Completely dressed, Soshiro gets drenched in the same water as you. And, as his hair becomes wet, one of his hands moves it out of his face, revealing his façade completely.

Your arms hang from his shoulders into his back. Your knees, fight to keep you standing up even if the one actually holding you up is no other than him.

Soshiro is completely mute, and so do you. There is, maybe, no need to speak.

He lets his jacket slide through his shoulders to finally fall into the shower’s floor. The compressive shirt underneath gets also wet, becoming something like a second skin of him. Showing off the hours of training, and why he is the vice-captain of your division.

Immorally, you that were on the brink of death a couple of minutes ago, now feel in heaven because of your saviour. Because of your blades wielding hero.

Once again, he was able to save a life with those thinly cut masses of iron.

His hand, with soft but still steady pace, clean something off your back. And for that your breasts are pressed against his chest. You can see his neck from the side, as he tries to take a deeper look at your shoulder blades. You inhale the scent of his skin, a mix of sweat from the last battle and manly hints of fresh perfume.

“You got them almost engraved on your skin. What the fuck? The suits aren’t supposed to hurt you this way” he whispers, close to your ear. “We should go to the medical pavilion, now” he adds.

You nod, feeling how everything has started to spin around you and your stamina decreases more and more.

“Thank you, Soshi- Hoshina fuku Taichou…” you babble, realizing your faces are closer that what they should ever be and your arms and his are interlocked pretty strongly to the other’s body.

He takes a deep breath through his tiny nose, looking at you with lazy eyes. Just a tiny line of red is visible, as tiny as the opening of his lips that let prominent fangs barely flash.

Soshiro’s chest goes up and down, harder every time. His muscles tense more and more, especially the ones on his neck. His hug gets even tighter, pulling you so closer that ever before.

“It’s… ok…” he barely words; something is affecting that man… and it’s probably all your body, all your still warm skin being his for at least a couple of minutes, the way your lips have become red and pouty, your sloppy eyes and the warmth of your breath closer to his mouth.

“What happened!!??” “Vice-captain?!” “are you two allr-“ the girls scream in terror. Probably, once they were out of the showers they faced the dantesque scenery of blades lying on the ground and a anti kaiju suit completely destroyed and fuming scattered all over the floor.

Within seconds, not only the officers of squad 3 have reached the place but also the men. Some of them, thinking not the worst… but probably that Hoshina fuku Taichou and you have finally caved in for lust.

With a fast reaction, Soshiro grabs the coat of his own uniform to cover you up. And with a much more severe tone ever heard, he orders Kikoru to call Mina and Okomi and let them know he is taking a badly injured officer to the medical pavilion. As for the rest, a scary deadly look over his shoulder was enough to make them run away from the place allowing him to pass.

You, however, couldn’t quite experience such happenings, as your consciousness had fade away right before your comrades arrived.

A soft white light shines in between your shut eyes; the sound of unknown solitude reaches your ears as well as the synchronic beep of your heart reflected on a machine.

“What-“ you mumble, regaining consciousness. Your body feels cold, and you are thankful for that. Your limbs are heavy, but you can move them. Your lips and mouth are dry, but you smile as you remember vague flashes of Soshiro and you under the shower.

You finally open your eyes to discover you are indeed at some kind of medical facility, soon remembering this is the place you all come when you are severely injured after battle.

Everything on your body seems to be on its place, and for that you breathe alleviated. Thankful to your hero, you wonder how to thank him when you are out of here… or maybe, you just plan to leave the squad as he has seen you completely naked.

“I didn’t know you were awake already” a well-known voice scares you away. You try to stand up, but his hand stops you from doing so.  “I couldn’t sleep, I was worried for you” he says, with that sweet funny tone he often uses to communicate.

There is, as far as you could see, anyone around but you and him. Soshiro, who apparently couldn’t sleep, has come to see you.

Your cheeks burn, and it’s not because of a defective suit now. It is because, you are deeply embarrassed, and still, something inside you is jumping with genuine happiness to see him here.

“I’m ok, Sir. But.. you didn’t have to come! I’m deeply thankful for you saving my life, and I promise you I will replace the uniform you got all wet” you say, trying to look away from him who has came closer to your bed.

Soshiro bursts out laughing, the way he only knows how to. He grabs his stomach, and soon flashes of the way those abs looked with wet fabric sticked to them, makes you shiver.

“You- you should worry for your own suit! Not mine!” he continues laughing while, little by little, he ends up sitting right on the bed. “By the way, you know why your suit almost killed you?” he asks.

You swallow. What- why is he sitting next to you?

 You shake your head in denial, out of words, because you couldn’t think of a reason for such big flaw on that impressive technological miracle.

Soshiro, who is well known for being at least a little bit irreverent -and that’s exactly what you love the most about him-, gets himself comfortable next to you. He lies back, as you move to the side to make him some space.

Now, the scent of his skin is clean and delicious -even more than earlier-. And you can smell it, because there isn’t much room to be separated on a single bed.

“Well… you had a piece of Kaiju tooth stuck on your lower back. Therefore, the suit either processed it as a threat or… it reacted with the pieces of kaiju within it. In any case, you will be given a new one in a couple of days” he tells you, with his right arm stuck underneath the back of his head.

His bicep, perfectly moulded to be strong, but still lightweight to be as agile as possible, protrudes with the hem of the compression shirt around it. Does he really know how sexy he looks? Or he is absolutely unaware of the effects he has?

“Oh…” you sigh. You take it as a personal failure; how were you not able to see it? “Don’t worry, this incident helped them to investigate further security measures… however, isn’t your back hurting?” he asks, this time turning to you.

You deny, again, without any words coming from your mouth. But there isn’t much you could do, when Soshiro turns you around so that your back faces him.

“You do, in fact, have a big bruise. I should report this, too” he comments, as his soft index travels down your spine, to the small of your back.

Your eyes, opened big enough to look like moons, have stopped seeing all around and all you can think of is the proximity of that man to you.

“You good?” he murmurs, ignorant of everything happening to your body. “Ye-yes, vice-captain. I wanna thank you for taking care of us the way you do; hadn’t been for you, I’d be dead by now…” you pull those words from who knows where, even if your muscles seem paralyzed from his touch. Your speech sounds like those you give when you follow commands during battle.

He laughs; this time softer and sweeter. You can feel his body coming closer, enough to feel the tip of his nose grazing your neck.

“We should have each other’s backs in here, or else… but most importantly, being told my blades will not be useful to fight and protect, you remind me once again that they indeed can” he whispers, making your skin shiver.

It’s clear that he wants you. And you want him, too.  And you always knew, and he always knew. And all of them, too.  Why, just now, on a place where you should be monitored, there were nobody around if not?

“Can I rest here for a minute?” he asks, as his forehead lands on your nape. “All the time you want, Vice-captain” you answer back, smiling softly.

You slowly relax, as his hand slides in the most delicate way towards your belly to hug you. Your hand, also delicate, fall on top of his, confirming how much you would love for him to touch you like this forever.

“Call me Soshiro when we are like this, ok?” he murmurs, planting the first kiss right on your shoulder.

You turn around, slowly. Even if you would love to stay the way you were, you can’t stop yourself from wanting to see his face.

“Soshiro…” you whisper, coming closer to his lips. “That’s better…” he smiles, kindly.

And one kiss, and then another came by… and thankfully, that night, there were no more Kaiju around.

[lyvhie]

nct dream having a s/o who's shy during sex

nct dream x fem!reader (18+ mdni) a/n: reposting this one bcs somehow this just disappeared from my blog and i remembered to repost it now 😭😭 cw: smut, oral (f), fingering, petnames.

MARK seemed taken aback at first. like, he didn't want to make you uncomfortable, he wanted this moment to be good for you too, so he kept asking if you were sure and if it was okay to continue. when you gave him a green light, he would nod and take things slowly with you, checking to make sure you were fine with what he was doing and reassuring you that it was fine to be shy. he let you wrap your arms around his neck and hide your face there, knowing that this was your way of cooperating with the situation.

he was understanding and patient, knowing that you needed time and didn't want to push too quickly. he loved having you close to him like that, everything seemed more intimate when you were close together. it was like a whole new level of intimacy and he couldn't really explain it with words, but it just felt right to him.

“babe, please,” he murmurs against your forehead, his voice shaky with restraint. “think you can relax a little for me? your tightness is amazing, but i need to move,” as soon as you relax, he begins to move his hips slowly, savoring every inch as he pushes deeper into you. each stroke hits just the right spot and elicits a soft moan from your lips. he showers you with praises as he makes love to you tenderly.

it seemed like there was an unspoken contest between you and JISUNG over who could be the most bashful in that moment. and, just as usual, you managed to claim victory! despite seeing himself as the one to lead, he was surprisingly unsure of his next steps, attempting to put you at ease as best he could. with a gentle determination, he whispered reassurances in your ear about making it feel good and creating a memorable experience for you. yet, every word he uttered only seemed to amplify the heat in your body.

but through all the nervous laughter and flustered glances, you could sense jisung's genuine care for your wellbeing. as his hands explored your body, they were hesitant yet firm, as if trying to learn your every curve by heart. he gently nuzzles your neck as he speaks, his breath hot against your skin. "i promise i'll take it slow. just tell me what feels nice.”

HAECHAN remembered how he saw you struggle to just take off your clothes, how embarrassed you seemed, so he figured he'd take the opportunity to help. initially, he was gentle and supportive, telling you it was all right, and you could take your time. however, when you were underneath him, hiding your face with your arms and holding back your cute moans, oh boy, that's when he would get really devious. he'd force you to look at him and whisper dirty words in your ear, really making you squirm and, more important, he would make sure to tease you enough to make you beg.

“look at me,” he would say demanding. “i’ll stop moving if you close your eyes again,” as he says this, he's already thrusting into you in an agonizingly slow pace. it would be so much worse if he just stayed still.* “n-no, hyuck, p-please,” you stutter out in a pleading tone as you open your eyes quickly and look at him. “please what? i said you have to use your words, love,” he leans close to nibble on your earlobe, making you shriver. he loved how responsive you were. “please… f-faster, i…” you tried to move your hips to match his rhythm but his grip on your waist tightens, keeping you exactly where he wants you. "mmh, i'm listening,” he nuzzle against your neck, patiently waiting for you. "i want to c-cum again, please, go h-harder,” you say in a frustrated tone, burying your face in his neck to hide yourself. he was pleased with you words, his smirk widen and he feels his cock throb with excitement. he would let you hide this time. “can’t deny it if my love asked so nicely.”

seeing this side of you, the vulnerable and timid one, was something truly endearing to JAEMIN. “my bold princess is feeling shy today?” he asked, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth as he pressed a light kiss to your quivering lips. “there’s no reason to be,” he assured before placing another tender peck. gently coaxing your arms away from hiding your chest, he encourages you with another kiss, his thumb tracing lazy circles on cheek. “you’re stunning, princess,” his lips soon follow suit, moving down to your neck, leaving trails of kisses as he goes.

jaemin’s breath is hot against your skin as he nuzzles further downwards, pausing at your collarbone. he flicks his tongue across the delicate flesh, the sensation makes goosebumps break out on your skin, causing you to shiver slightly. “you’ve got nothing to hide from me,” his hands move to unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts completely. with a low groan, he finally takes one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling lightly.

CHENLE would be so confused. he was trying to make you feel good, but you were making things difficult. it wasn't because you didn't want it, so he was even more confused as to why you weren't letting yourself enjoy it. "baby, why are you doing that?" he asked with a puzzled look, raising an eyebrow as he saw you closing your legs. "stop closing your legs," he said, making you look away from him. “n-no, it's... i-it's embarrassing..." you mumbled, biting your lower lip. he let a small "oh" escape his lips when he realized what was happening.

"aw, are you feeling shy? you're so cute!" he said, letting a small sigh escape his mouth as he ran his hands gently up and down your thigh. the touch was comforting, his hands caressing the skin as he leaned in closer. "what about this? keep your eyes closed and let me take care of you, just relax,” he kissed your thigh, his voice so gentle it made your heart flutter. the thought of just letting go and giving him control was enticing, so you nod and kept your eyes closed as he requested. with a wicked grin, he pushes your legs further apart, revealing your beautiful, swollen center. he takes a moment to appreciate the sight before leaning down to taste you, his tongue sliding effortlessly inside. you gasp and grab onto his shoulders, trying to steady yourself as he begins to explore every inch of you.

JENO had come to understand your behavior patterns, he knew that you would react just this way. you were always the type to talk too much and do less, specifically in regards to your flirting. you seemed to derive a lot of fun from sending suggestive texts, spicy pictures that didn't give too much away, raunchy voice messages and all. yet when it came time for the actual act, you seemed to always shy away from it. he had learned to read your subtleties, and this time he didn't let you ran away.

"aww, look at you now," he says, his voice low and teasing. "you were all fire and ice earlier, sending me those naughty texts and photos, making my imagination run wild." he leans in closer, his breath hot against your cheek. "but now that we're here, you're suddenly shy?" he held your chin to force you to meet his eyes. "what happened to the feisty little thing that had me on edge all day?" before you could try to say something back, he shut you up with a hard thrust, making you gasp. "you know, you really shoudn't start something you can't finish."

RENJUN knew you were naturally shy about physical contact, he wasn't surprised by your reluctance. in fact, he knew that you would be a little coy whenever the physical intimacy went up a level. he knew your shyness would make this a delicate process, so he decided to start things off gentle. "that's it, just spread your legs a bit more, darling," he asked softly in your ear, continuing to keep you in a gentle hug from behind. you could practically feel your heart beating out of your chest. you had asked him not to look at your face since you felt nervous, and he agreed. but he was lying, he just had to move his head a little to capture your expressions.

he starts gently caressing your inner thighs, sending shivers up your spine. he feels your pulse quickening and your breathing becoming more ragged, which makes him feel even more determined to give you pleasure. he continues to tease you, getting closer and closer to where you really need him to touch. he traces his fingers lightly over your wet panties, feelings your arousal seep through the fabric. he slowly pulls them aside and slips a finger inside you gently, pumping slowly as he watches your reactions. your breathing quickens and your moans get louder with each thrust, so he adds another finger, stretching you just enough to feel amazing. as he continues to move inside you, he presses his thumb against your clit, massaging it in slow circles. he’s careful not to go too fast or hard knowing that anticipation can be just as satisfying as release.

[gaysindistress]

What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man?

a/n: This is technically part two for this list. You could read them separately but I really think you should read them both so you can fully feel the angst.

non-mcu characters masterlist

Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries this is one is for you girl

Price stalks over to him and grabs him by the front of his vest, not caring that everyone can see what’s going on. “You call and apologize to her right now, ya hear me? It’s unacceptable for you to lie to her like that and I should have your balls for it. You fix it before she does go off and find herself a better man.”

Now let’s say that when Simon got back, things were….different. You rarely fought but now you’re bickering about every little thing and having full on battles of the will that leave you crying in the bedroom while he’s storming out. The connection between you two feels strained and distant where’s before it was warm and comforting. You barely look at each other and sometimes you think he’s straight up ignoring you.

Even the dogs have started to notice that there’s something off about mom and dad. Most nights you’ll sleep alone with the dogs by your door while Simon is on the couch. It feels like they’re laying in wait, ready to spring into action if anything were to happen. They don’t go to him as much as they did before and your female dog, Echo, refuses to leave your side. She’s become glued to you while your other dog, Zade, keeps you within eyesight at all times. It really pisses Simon off because Zade is supposed to be his dog and the mutt won’t even look at him (Simon’s words, not yours).

It all comes to a head though one night when Simon is trying to get Zade to come with him on a walk and the dog just stares at him. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t blink. He just stares into Simon’s soul and judges him for how he’s been treating you.

“Zade! Come here now!” Simon grumbles in a half shout but the dog doesn’t move a muscle. You’re in the bedroom with Echo at your feet and she glances over at you with a look that says ‘let’s go’.

What happened next is a blur. Echo barely makes it into the living room before she’s growling and placing herself between you and Simon. Zade is up and stalking closer to his sister’s side while Simon is growing more and more angry. You don’t think you even had the time to say anything before Echo and Zade tackle Simon to the ground. You know they wouldn’t hurt him but it’s still a terrifying sight and you’re doing everything you can to get the dogs off of him. You manage to get them off but they refuse to go to their kennels and keep tucked behind you, still ready to protect you if needed.

“Simon, oh my god are you okay?” You ask him in a panicked and high pitched voice as you try to help him up. He shoves your hands off of him and accidentally uses too much force which sends you to stumbling into the dogs.

Everything is absolute chaos with his anger, the dogs trying to protect you, and now you’re crying while trying not to tell him off. At this point you grab the dogs by their collars and pull them away as tears are streaming down your face. When they hear your sniffles, they immediately give into you and let you pull them to the bedroom. You don’t hear Simon as you start to pack as much as you can. The weeks of being on edge have finally gotten to you and you’re done.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who isn’t willing to communicate with you.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who used to be the most loving and devoted man you’ve ever met but now he can’t acknowledge your presence.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who’s come so far and has forgiven himself for the things he’s done but now he’s slipping back into his old self destructive ways.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who can’t be honest with himself and admit that he’s wrong.

You refuse to be in a relationship with a man who’s become Ghost.

You’ve tried having faith in him after he broke up with you but it’s rotting you from the inside out. It’s eating away at your heart, gnawing at your ribs with your flesh stuck in its teeth. This faith is liquifying the kindness and patience you once had. It’s changing you into an anxious shell of a coward who can’t stand up for yourself. Change is alright but this is not. This change is making you cruel and hopeless while it waits for you to become a faithless savage who devours whatever light touches you.

It’s only when you come back into the living room with your bags packed and the dogs ready to go that Simon says something to you.

He questions what you’re doing.

He doesn’t apologize.

“I’m leaving. We’ll figure out everything tomorrow,” you tell him as you find your keys.

“What do you mean?”

You stop. You stare at the front door with completely blank eyes. They flicker to him over your shoulder.

“I’m leaving you. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can figure out how to make it a clean break then.”

He doesn’t say a word. Neither do you after that.

He lets you walk out the door. You don’t ask him to fight for you either.

He lets you leave him. You don’t turn back either.

You meant to drive to your friend’s place but somewhere on the way there you pull over and cry until you feel like you’re going to pass out. Zade and Echo watch from the backseat of your car with their heads on your center console. They want to comfort you but there’s not exactly room for two 100 pound dogs in the front seat so they stay put. Your friend calls you frantically because she’s not home but tells you that you should come meet her wherever she’s at. As nice as it might be to get away, it’s not appealing to you at the moment so you call the only other person you know you’d be comfortable with right now.

A part of you knows it’s a mistake to call him and if Simon finds out, he might very well almost kill his captain a third time. The other part of you knows that John would be understanding and the calm presence that you want right now. He already checks on you regularly so would it be a huge surprise if you showed up on his doorstep?

As if he’s been waiting for this moment, John already has a guest room for you and has the back door open for the dogs to run around outside. They’ve met him before so they feel more secure with leaving your side although they both give him a warning look.

Now it’s important to remember that the entire time you’ve known John, you’ve been with Simon. John thinks himself a gentleman, albeit a bit gruff, but a gentleman no less so you’ve been off limits. Obviously he can’t ignore the initial attraction he felt towards you because you are an utterly breathtaking person and it would be impossible to not notice that. He’s tried to lock away the yearning that tugs at the marrow in his bones when he sees you but it’s difficult. It’s like asking a dog to stop begging; they might listen for a moment but they go back to it within seconds. Also during the course of your friendship, he’s come to know the absolute amazing person that you are and seen that you have the kindness soul he’s ever known. It didn’t used to hurt when he saw you but after that night you texted him to keep Simon safe after he broke up with you, it’s damn near unbearable. Simon told you to find yourself a better man and John knows he could be that man. He wants to be that man but only if you come to him. He won’t approach you or even hint at it with you. It needs to be you who seeks him out. It needs to be you who wants him. It needs to be you who asks him to be that man otherwise John would never be able to forgive himself if it all went wrong.

Nothing happens that night or at all for that matter during your stay with John. It was meant to only be a few days but with losing your house so suddenly and trying to navigate a world Post Simon, it ends up being a few weeks. You feel awful about it and promise that you’ll be gone as soon as you can. John always laughs it off and tells you to stay as long as you need. Secretly he’s growing accustomed to your calming presence and gentle ways. He adores how thoughtful you are when you have to work early and barely make a sound. He appreciates how you make him a plate and leave it in the fridge if he comes home late. He’s thankful that you’re comfortable enough with him to tell him about everything that’s going on.

John made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t bring up anything unless you said something first. Even when he wants desperately to know why you’re crying when you came back from Simon’s tonight, he won’t. Instead he offers you a cup of tea, a warm blanket, and some space while he busies himself in his shop outside. It absolutely destroys him to even think about leaving you alone in the living room but it’s the right thing to do.

Just as he’s getting ready to leave, your small voice stops him.

“Can…can you stay?” It’s unusual for you to not be confident in your words. It causes him to freeze to hear the uncertainty. “If..if you want.”

He smiles at the ground before turning to look at you and nod. You’re curled into a ball on the couch with your dogs at your feet but there’s space for him next to you. You lean away from the arm of the couch and he takes the hint. Settling into the space between you and couch, he tosses his arm over the back and lets you decide how to proceed. Against your logical head, you tuck yourself into his side with yours pulled around yourself and your head on his shoulder. His fingers itch to play with the ends of your hair but they stay tightly closed around the couch cushion.

“Thank you…for everything.”

“No need for that.” He murmurs with bated breath. He knows you can feel the tension, how could you not when you’re practically laying on his chest?

“One day you’re going to accept my thanks. It might not be tomorrow or the day after, but you will,” you say with a snort. He says that every single time and you reply with the same phrase every time as well.

John’s hand betrays him and starts to play with the very ends of your hair. You feel it just like you felt his strained breathing. It’s strange to feel affection from anyone else but from him, it’s…. welcomed. You don’t acknowledge it and he knows that you’re doing that for his own sake.

“Maybe,” he tosses back and his breath catches when you move closer to him. Your arm moves to wrap around his waist and stills when he tenses. It’s your silent way of asking for consent to hold him. “Love,” he starts and moves his hand away from your hair.

You move to look at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. He’s looking at you with such tenderness and warmth it makes your stomach flip.

“Do you have feelings for me?” You ask him directly, unwilling to be tossed around again. It’s abrasive and you know there’s a better way to have asked but it gets straight to the point.

John looks sick and a tight lipped smile pulls across his face as he tries to come up with an answer. “I…love I think you need to rest. There’s been a…”

“No. Answer the question.”

He glances down at your lips and that’s telling enough.

“Now isn’t the right time,” he whispers more to himself than to you. “You’ve just gone through…”

Cutting him off, you say firmly, “and that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

He can only stare at you with half lidded eyes and pray that he doesn’t break in front of you. His resolve is crumbling and it’s only thanks to his military service that he’s not throwing himself at you.

“I told him it’s over.”

John tries to interrupt you but you silence him with a pointed look. “I told him that I will always love him but that doesn’t mean I want to be with him anymore. I won’t wait around for him to figure his life out. I don’t deserve that. I deserve a man who knows what he wants and will communicate with me.”

Honestly it feels like his world is crumbling around him. You’re here snuggled into his chest and saying all these things which he knows what they mean but he can’t believe that you know what they mean. He can’t trust his own understanding of you and believe that you’d mean that.

“I need you to tell me what you want…now.”

You.

He wants you. More than anything in the world, John Price wants you and you’re asking him to confess that secret.

[sreidisms]

Early seasons Reid and with BAU!reader whom just has a HUGE crush on her and Gideon has to spell it out to Spencer? I just love season 1/2 Reid. Him in glasses just makes me swoon ❤️

THIS IS SO CUTE, like it's so probable too. I didn't understand if you meant that Gideon had to spell out that Spencer likes the reader or that the reader likes Spencer, so I went with the former. If you wanted the latter, tell me and I'll write it!

An Oblivious Genius

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer has feelings for you but is too oblivious to realise - Gideon helps him.

Genre: subtle fluff

Word Count: 862

Warnings: none

A/N: the way I ended this leaves it open to a part two, so please comment if you'd like one!

“I think you have feelings for her.”

“Huh?”

Gideon didn’t lift his gaze from the newspaper in his hands, the wrinkles on his forehead peeking from behind the inked folio. “I said, you may have feelings for her, Reid.”

Spencer never turned to anyone for help, because why would he? He knew more than anyone else when it came to most things - well, except socially. And emotionally. And anything having to do with you.

The only person that wouldn’t bruise his ego was Gideon - his mentor, his guidance. He held more of a God-like presence than a fatherly one for Reid; his advice and experience were almost holy, a dogma which Spencer believed and followed without questioning.

So when his number one source of truth told him he had a crush on you, it was a shock.

“I don’t think that’s the case-”

“Reid.”

Spencer stopped his attempted rambling as Gideon’s eyes made an appearance from behind the lowered paper.

“Just repeat what you were telling me at the start of the conversation,” the older man sighed.

Spencer shifted on his legs, picking at the rolled up sleeve that was settled by his elbow.

“I know she’s my closest friend, the person I feel most comfortable with, although she’s been working here for less time than everyone else. It’s probably because she doesn’t interrupt me and listens when I talk.” He paused for a second, the corner of his mouth lifting into a subtle smile. “I like that.”

“What else?” urged Gideon, setting his newspaper on the desk in front of him.

“I get really excited to see her. Well, I enjoy seeing Derek and Elle too, but I get this weird feeling at the pit of my stomach when I see her.” He pressed his palm to his sternum, showing the origin of the sensation.

“That’s because she means more to you.”

“Yes, but surely not in the way you’re implying. It could be heart burn; do you know that twenty percent of Americans suffer from a gastroesophageal reflux at least once a week-”

“You’re telling me you happen to experience heart burn each time she enters the room?”

Gideon raised an eyebrow, making the younger agent feel dumb for such an improbable conclusion.

“Okay … okay maybe not, the two variables cannot be fully independent of each other if they occur simultaneously every time.”

It was surprising to Gideon that such an intelligent and well-rounded person could be so oblivious to something as romantic feelings. He pressed his thumb and index finger into his eyes, rubbing them slowly and dragging his fingers down his cheeks, buying himself some time to think.

“I think an obvious question is, do you think she’s pretty?” he asked and waved his hand to the side.

Spencer bit his lower lip. He thought you were the most gorgeous person he had ever laid eyes on if he had to be entirely honest; but he couldn’t admit that, not out loud at least.

“I do.”

“That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say, Gideon? That I think that she’s breath-taking and there’s not a thing about her I don’t like?” He said it with a certain anger, one that was buried somewhere deep inside him, a result of the pent up emotions and anxieties in his chest.

“Is that the truth?” You’d think that with his profiling experience, he would have learnt to mask the way he was suppressing the fluttery feelings and adoration he had for you.

Gideon sighed before speaking again: “What are the signs that one is supressing emotions?”

“Struggling to identify and express feelings or appearing emotionally distant, unexpected mood swings, and avoidance of specific topics, people, or situations.”

“And doesn’t that seem to mirror what you’re going through?”

Spencer thought about it. He was definitely finding it challenging to pin point his emotions, he couldn’t really understand what he felt for you; he didn’t really have mood swings, but had just lashed out at his mentor over a comment; and he certainly avoided the topic of liking you or the teasing of such from his workmates.

“Shit, I like her.”

Gideon chuckled at his out-of-character swearing. “First off, watch your language. Secondly, I’m glad you’ve come round.” He laid back in his chair once more, lifting up the paper to continue his reading.

The young genius didn’t know what to do with this newfound information. He liked you. More than liked you, really. He was fascinated by your mere existence, your kindness, your humour, and most definitely your looks. How hadn’t he realised this sooner?

“What do I do now?” he mumbled, taking off his glasses to wipe them on his button-up shirt.

“You tell her you like her.”

Spencer near snapped his glasses in half with the way the pads of his fingers pressed firmly in shock.

“You want me to do what?”

“Reid, it’s not a secret that she has a soft spot for you.”

The boy sputtered, jaw opening and closing like a door on rusted hinges. “I- I can’t do that!”

The newspaper rustled as Gideon flipped the page. “One of you will eventually.”

God I need him, he's such a cutie

[badgerbl00d]

captain's girl

☆ characters: akagami no shanks

☆ up next: tbd

☆ summary: shanks has always had a soft spot for you but as he spends more time around you that feeling intensifies- he's fallen, and hard.. how will he confess?

☆ a/n: i lost the ask that originally submitted this but i loved this prompt! so so cute and always lovely to write for my favorite captain.. shanks nation rise!

Shanks hadn’t slept in days. 

Shanks- an emperor, had been a pirate for decades and he knew well what it meant to be selfish. To be faced with all the treasure and beauty in the World and it not be enough until one had it all to himself. But he’d only ever seen it. In allies and enemies alike he had seen that corrupting burning want- no, need for something that drives one nearly mad. He’d seen fellow seamen be consumed by this bubbling and boiling desire that had always sickened him to think about.

And then there was you. Beautiful, strong-willed, and unafraid of pirates and men and danger and swords and, all of the sudden, he began feeling the symptoms of that dangerous selfishness. He’d watch you laugh with Benn, or cook with Lucky, or play cards with Yasopp and his chest would tighten. His nerves would begin to ebb and flow in uncertainty and the terrifyingly unfamiliar feeling of jealousy began to sprout within the captain of the Red Haired Pirates. He’d spend hours poring over a potential solution– something to make it go away. But everything he tried was useless. Any slight progress immediately crumbled the moment you walked by him. He’d found a nice girl on an island and flirted with her, buying her drinks, treating her special as the rest of the crew began to pour into the bar. It was working! She liked the same music as him and thought he was funny. But then you’d walked in with Beckman, your perfume immediately recognizable to him and he folded. You were entirely captivating to him, and bless him, he tried to listen to the girl in front of him and feign interest in what she was saying but all he could focus on was the sound of you laughing and thanking the men who were sending drinks your way. On a separate occasion, he’d taken a different approach. You were in a particularly cheeky mood and not the most prone to taking orders, so he got frustrated. He leant into that frustration, barking at you for not listening. But you just rolled your eyes and begrudgingly got up to do what he was asking. As you walked past him, you raked a fingernail across his chest and offered assistance if he needed “any help de-stressing.” And with a wink you were off. After that little incident, he could hardly sleep and was quite literally plagued by (very inappropriate) thoughts of you and decided it would be best if he didn’t do anything for a while. This had been going on for months now.  A one sided game of cat and mouse that Shanks did not want to be playing, after all, he wasn't used to playing the role of mouse. Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.

But he was realizing there was no escape. Constantly you teased him, tempted him, lured him, all to act like nothing the next moment. His head was spinning. Just this morning, you ran into him at breakfast and asked if he wanted to go into town with you. He came up with some half assed excuse and tried his hardest to keep his composure when you pouted at his and said, “Pretty please?” He went up and moped in his office, going over all those moments when he felt that now familiar ache in his chest– that throbbing pain that felt like his swollen heart was being mushed up against his ribcage and had been making his daily life on the ship, oh, so inconvenient. 

Like a few months ago when, in your typical fashion, you’d put together a small band out of the rag-tag musicians on the crew. An upright bass player out of your intel gatherer, a drummer out of one of Hongo’s assistants, some brass players that you put through a very selective audition, and, of course, you as the singer. He remembers walking out after having a few drinks with those of his men that he was closest with and hearing the sound of your voice singing a soft jazz tune. ‘I wish you bluebirds, in the spring…..’ his heart picking up a bit, and him leaning over to look at the band playing, ‘To give your heart a song to sing, and then a kiss…’ Him rushing down the stairs and urging the crew to dance, asking Lucky to get behind the bar and start making cocktails and drinks, ‘But more than this, I wish you love’ anything so that he could sit and listen to you. He remembers the boyish surge of energy that coursed through him when you shot him a playful wink. A thank you for entertaining your antics and encouraging your little band of criminal musicians. 

Or last week, when you stopped by his office (he’d begun spending more and more time locked in there attempting to find reprieve from your presence which was quickly becoming all too much for him to be around) and knocked on his door in the way you always knocked on any door. Three rhythmic little taps, always quiet and polite. “Come in!” he’d said, forcing his voice to steady itself like his heart wasn’t crawling up into his throat. “Hey Shanks– I have something for you.” You made your way to his desk, dropping a little parcel on it before going to lay down on the couch in his office, a seat he always kept open for you. It was just an old leather chair, but he knew how much you liked it. He opened up the parcel, watching you pull out a cigarette and bring it to your lips, holding it droopily between them as you dug around in your jacket for a lighter. He finished unwrapping the gift, a compass falling out. Gold and the initials R.H.S. engraved in the back. The glass had been carved out so that it was angular and there was a detailed inking of the ocean in the back, and the north arrow was dark red. He turned it over in his palm, “R.H.S.?” he asked. “It’s funny, huh! Red-Hair-Shanks,” you laughed, “It made Benny crack up so I snatched it. They wanted $15,000 for it! Like hell was I gonna pay that…. Hey, do you have a lighter?” You walked back over to him, leaning on his desk, looking down at his face, batting your eyes at him all doe-like. He felt like he might faint. 'Benny' he felt a pang of jealousy but smiled to himself at the nickname. Beckman hated nicknames but you'd started calling him Benny and for the first time ever there was no protest from the man's lips. You'd wiggled your way into all their hearts like that- helping Lucky with groceries and keeping Yasopp company when he drank more than he could stand.

“Sure do, sweetheart,” he maintained his typical flirty cadence but failed to sound as confident as he usually does. You shot him a look. He sheepishly handed you the lighter but instead of taking it you leant over further, beckoning for him to light the cigarette for you. He swallowed and brought the lighter up to the cigarette, the two of you making eye contact as he lit it. You blew a playful puff of smoke at him before making your way back over to the sofa. You laid across it, kicking your shoes off and pulling a magazine from his shelf. “Playboy? Really?” He gave you an embarrassed grin and shrugged. You made a mental note that this magazine had been left open on a photo of a bikini-clad girl that looked an awful like you. Pervert, you thought. You put the magazine away and sunk further into the chair, taking long drags of the cigarette, filling up the room with smoke. Shanks was trying not to stare a hole through you and limited himself from looking over in your general direction. You were so at peace, your legs draped over the arm of the chair and your hands above your head.  An hour passed like this, the two of you sharing a silence that was only peaceful on your end. Shanks sat at his desk pretending to be deeply interested in a blank piece of paper and mulled over possible topics of conversation. He was trying not to beat himself up over his newfound shyness- he was like a teenage boy talking to a girl for the first time. When he finally got the courage to ask you about your most recent errand he was cut off before he could even start.

“Y/n!!! Help me with dinner, eh?!”

Lucky. You groaned sitting up, remembering that you’d promised to help him out with tonight’s dinner last week. “Sorry, Captain,” you said, putting your shoes back on, “I’d love to stay and fog up your office a bit more but duty calls.” 

He nodded and got up, nearly running into you. “Ah, sorry princess,” he said, guiding you gently out of the room with a hand on your back. 

“Try not to miss me,” you’d said, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and placing it in his. He furrowed his brows in equal amounts of confusion and sexual frustration. “Lucky won’t let me smoke in the kitchen,” you explained. You shot him a wink and were off. 

He took a short puff of the cigarette before taking it out and staring at it between his fingers. Your red lipstick stained the end of it. He took a very self indulgent inhale before setting it down on an ashtray in his office. It was the first time he’d smoked in a while.

He hadn’t remembered it feeling so good.

He was late to dinner that night and even Benn had indicated some degree of worry about his captain, asking if he was alright. 

Shanks knew this couldn’t last forever– that he would have to do something before he lost his ability to lead his ship entirely. But then, of course, there was what happened yesterday.

Some rookie pirates had convinced themselves it would be a good idea to try and loot your ship. You’d been out on the deck helping Beckman with some chores when the first group of them climbed overboard. Neither of you had particularly expressive reactions– after all, you could tell within a few seconds that they were neither strong nor experienced. Still, it was the general attitude of the Red Hair Pirates to avoid conflict as much as possible. So when they wrapped rope around your wrists and held knives to your throats you and Benn didn’t flinch. Some newer recruits had sounded the alarm which eventually led to the rest of the crew making their way lazily out onto the deck. Shanks emerged from his office, reading glasses still on and laughed at the sight.

“Yasopp– take a pic, will ya!?” he laughed, slapping him on the back, “Benny we’re gonna hang this up in the dining hall!”

Benn rolled his eyes and you smiled. It took another several moments before you realized that your body was feeling more and more weakened by the moment, but when you finally felt a dullness creeping up your legs you noticed that the man holding you was a devil fruit user. The Neru Neru no Mi you believed it was called, Sleep Sleep Fruit. Fatigue started to wash over you and you stumbled forward slightly. The laughter on the ship immediately ceased and Benn called your name. You tried responding but instead fell back, landing against your assailant's chest. Yasopp and Lucky both brought their hands to their pistols, and Benn had taken a more offensive stance though it was clear the effect was starting to weigh on him as well. 

“We’ll kill them both,” one of the looters had yelled. Yasopp shot Shanks a look, waiting for some kind of command. “Yasopp–” Shanks started, but he hesitated a moment. If his sniper made any kind of mistake it would be your life taken instead. Before he could react, your captor had drawn the knife down your arm, smirking at the cry of pain you let out as your arm was coated in red. “Shoot him,” he said, gaze turning black. You passed out, though whether it was from the pain or the effect of Shanks’ emperor’s haki on your weakened body was unclear. But the last thing you saw before blacking out was the haunting anger on Shanks’ face.

You woke up a bit later, your head throbbing and your arm bandaged. “Holy shit,” you muttered, “What happened?” Hongo and Beckman were sitting by your bed talking to each other and Lucky, Yasopp, and a few others were playing cards. 

"You passed out from the effects of the devil fruit," Benn explained, "And you got a nasty cut on your arm. But Hongo says you'll be healed up by the weekend."

You blushed, somewhat embarrassed that you were the only one to have been injured. "What happened to the other crew?"

Benn shot you a half-smile. An expressive mixture of pride and shame. "The Captain took care of it. Honestly all we could do was watch, we all know better than to get in his way when he gets like that. Never seen this ship so bloody, that's for sure."

You grimaced, "Suppose they won't be messing with us again?"

Benn laughed, "Definitely not."

“Hey, Y/n!” Lucky called out, “Want anything to eat?”

You sat up, pushing yourself to the edge of the bed and grabbing the glass of water Benn offered you, “Yeah, Luck. I’ll take anything, honestly. Where is Shanks?” Benn sighed and looked over at Yasopp who was giggling like a twelve-year old. You got the message. 

“Maybe we should tell him it’s obvious? And it’ll fix things?” 

Benn shook his head and leant back in his chair, “Nah, it would crush the guy. Maybe if you say something to him, though?” You thought about it for a minute. You'd talked with each other before about the captain's feelings. How he acted every time he was around you. Benn added that he'd never seen him like that before, "Buggy's given us stories about how he used to be around girls. He'd run the other way when a pretty lady talked to him. He's obviously gotten over it since then but it's sort of nice to see him like this."

"Can't blame him," Yasopp added, winking at you, "You're about the prettiest thing on the sea."

Yasopp was still laughing about it, over a game of cards with Lucky and Hongo. You appreciated their company while you rested.

“I don’t know guys. You know I love him just as much but will it be weird? I mean– no offense, but this ship isn’t really the ideal romantic setting. And what if he plays favorites?”

They all laughed at this, “He already is, sweetheart!”

“Just tell him!”

“We’ll have a big ol’ wedding!”

You rolled your eyes and asked to be dealt into the card game they were playing. Lucky came back with a bowl of soup for you. Laughter was filling up the small medical room and it echoed down the hall...  

Shanks’ crush on you was astoundingly obvious and what was more surprising was how he had been moping about it for the past four months. He was now in his room, shrouded in embarrassment. Half of it stemmed from the generally well known fact that Shanks and his crew were untouchable- or at least, should be. And the other, perhaps greater, half from the fact that you'd ended up hurt because he’d hesitated. It also didn't help that he had doubted Yasopp at all- he knew he never missed. He’d spent the evening drinking a bottle of whiskey to himself and replaying other embarrassing faux pas he’d committed in front of you. The bottle of empty whiskey sat in front of him on the desk and the sun had long set. He got up, feeling miserable, and decided to head to bed. He grabbed the empty bottle, pausing before he grabbed it. Your cigarette from a week ago sat in the mauve ceramic ashtray on his desk (also a gift from you– you’d said it reminded you of his “ugly pants”). He stared at the lipstick still staining the white paper on the end of the cigarette. His chest tightened and he looked out the window of his office. You were out on deck, your arm bandaged up, hauling some rope into a metal bin. He smiled to himself- an injury like that was no excuse for chores. You looked gorgeous. A white glow surrounded you from the beaming moonlight up above. Your hair was messy and flowed freely around your face shifting the shadows that fell on it. He knew, suddenly, that he had to talk to you. That in all his embarrassment and emotion and confusion about his feelings, he’d neglected to check up on you. He set the bottle down and grabbed the half-smoked cigarette, slipping it into his pocket. He paused at the door, momentarily enjoying the nerves that were coursing through his body. How long had it been since he last felt excitement like this? There were moments at sea where he realized that, thanks to his age and experience, he no longer felt those pangs and throes of youthful worry and excitement. But this? This was new and he was reeling like never before. He was submerged in uncharted waters and all of a sudden that spark of adventure that follows every pirate flared up inside him. Shanks closed the door to his office behind him, taking a deep breath. 

You wrapped up the rest of the rope and threw it into the container, before taking a seat on it. Closing your eyes and taking a moment to yourself. It was rare to have a night so quiet. You could hear the faint sound of laughter and talking coming from below the deck. The ship was slowly rocking back and forth.

“Mind if I sit next to you?”

You blinked your eyes open to see Shanks standing in front of you. It still surprised you how a man of his size and power could sneak up on you so easily. It was a nice reminder of how in control he actually was of everything around him. It put you at ease to know you were in such responsible hands and guidance. 

“You feel ok? It’s my fault I should’ve–”

You smiled at him, “What? This? I’m fine, Captain– I’ve dealt with much worse, that I can promise you.” He frowned at that, “That’s not a good thing, Y/n. I don’t like thinking about you getting hurt.” You shrugged and ruffled his hair, “I’m a pirate. A Red-Hair Pirate. It’s bound to happen. And you’re not perfect either. Believe it or not. What’s going on with you lately? So sappy.” You knew very well what was going on with him.

Shanks smiled and looked down at the floor. This was it. Now or never. 

“Y/n… You know that, well, women love me and- and that I love women,” he started. Your smile dropped. 

“M-hm.”

“Uh,” he rubbed his neck sheepishly, like a child getting scolded, “Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re not like other women.”

You looked at him, “Are you sure about that?” You looked unamused. He steeled himself– he was an emperor of the sea, goddamnit, you were just a woman! Just a girl on his crew.

He knew that was a lie.

You were his girl on his crew. And he was being eaten alive by your existence, completely consumed by the thought of you. He couldn’t live another day without relieving himself of his constant torture and the emotional suffering you put him through. He couldn’t wake up another morning without you next to him, begging him to sleep in a bit longer and asking him to hold you tighter. He couldn’t spend another night watching you laugh and smile and be the most beautiful, enchanting thing in the world and not call you his. You were his, not through ownership but through love. 

“Alright! Damn it, woman, you’re so intimidating.” Your smile returned. 

“I love you,” he sighed. It wasn’t as dramatic as either of you had pictured. He said it like he was simply reminding you.

“I love you, Y/n. And I have for months. Since I first saw you– since you first started giving me random antique shop gifts and coming into my office at the most inconvenient times and filling it up with smoke. I can’t look at the color red and not think of you. That’s my color, damn it! And yet– I see red and think of the brand of cigarettes you like and the lipstick you wear and the way your laughter sounds and the color of your nail polish. I can’t listen to music and not think of you. I mean- you’ve come on board and turned everything upside down. My men, my violent men, are playing jazz on Thursday nights! Lucky’s new favorite thing to drink is Cosmopolitans and Yasopp is taking daily showers and, christ, Benn’s new nickname is Benny and he likes it! Everything I have reminds me of you. This is basically your ship now. And I love it. I love how you're everywhere. And I- I need you. I want you but it's more than that- I need you.”

He took a deep breath and looked at you for the first time in weeks. You laughed- at him, and grabbed his hand. His cheeks turned bright red and he felt like a teenager again. You squeezed his hand, “F-i-n-a-l-l-y.” He took a moment to sound out your spelling, and smiled somewhat defeatedly. He laid his head down on your shoulder and mumbled into you, “Was it obvious?”

 You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your head against his. It was refreshing to touch him without it being strange or feeling unnatural. To just hold one another and understand that that was all it was– a touch. That before either of you said anything and broke this mundane, normal silence everything was perfect. There was no room for mistake or anxiety or insecurity. There was just the mass of red hair on your shoulder ticking your neck and your arms wrapped around his. But you figured he’d suffered long enough. 

“Very,” you said, answering his question, “There’re a bunch of betting pools regarding when, and if, you’ll confess. Though you don’t make a great effort to hide it. Looks like Benny’s gonna make some cash tonight.”

He shot up, somewhat offended, “I do hide it! I’ve kept my distance from you and treated you like everyone else.”

You laughed and sat him down on the bin next to you, “No, you haven’t. I’m your favorite. And though you have been avoiding me, when you’re around me your face is pink and you lose all that playboy gusto you think the ladies like. Plus you have those magazines lying around. It flatters me how much I resemble some of those models.”

His mouth fell open at this, realizing he had left it wide out in the open. You smiled at this, but said nothing. It was quiet out again– everyone had gone to bed early, tired from the day’s commotion, an unexpected change of pace from the typical mundane life of a pirate at sea that normally consisted of chores upon chores upon chores. The sea was calm tonight, almost eerily so. You rested your head against Shank’s shoulder and closed your eyes, it was quiet again. You could tell he was itching for a response. You smiled, enjoying the effect you had on him.

“I love you, too.”

You felt Shanks tense and opened your eyes, turning to look at him. He had a stupidly large smile plastered on his face. He was so damn handsome. His hand slid up your back and came to rest on your neck. He gently pushed your face toward his, a smile creeping up your lips, and tested the waters. You closed the gap, closing your eyes as you kissed your captain, shifting forward and finding your way onto his lap. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and you could feel him smiling against your lips. Shanks broke the kiss, pulling away after giving you a few more pecks. 

His arm sank down to wrap around your waist and pull you in even tighter. He rested his forehead against yours and looked down at your lips, plump from the kissing.

“You’re mine,” he said. 

“Yours.”

He sighed, relief flooding his body. You rubbed his neck, "Guess I wasn't as obvious as you, hm?" He laughed and squeezed your hand, "No. God, I was terrified. What an awful feeling."

You smiled. You were getting tired, and your arm was throbbing. "Wanna come with me to see Hongo? I think my arm should get re-wrapped." He nodded, standing up. You walked toward the infirmary, while Shanks stood back for a moment. Waiting awkwardly.

"Shanks?"

His name had never sounded so lovely. He was worried, "Should we tell people yet? The crew- I mean."

You laughed, and kept walking, "I think they'll figure out on their own. After all, I suspect that I'll be greeting them tomorrow morning with your shirt on."

He watched you walk on ahead a bit more before following after you, scooping you up in his arm and pressing kisses to your face. Shanks dropped you off outside of Hongo's door, letting you go in on your own. 'I want tonight to be just us,' you'd explained. Word does travel quickly on a ship. He waited outside the door, listening to you and Hongo talk while he rebandaged your arm. His chest felt warm and full, not with the previous tightness he'd experienced but full with satisfaction.

A familiar ebbing flow of egoism spread through his body. It was nice to be reminded of who he was. An emperor of the sea with one of the highest bounties of all time. A man feared and respected across the world. Wanted by the world government and untouchable to anyone. Almost anyone. Your voice bubbled up over the sound of his thoughts for a moment. His confidence had quickly reinstated itself.

After all, Shanks was a man who always got what he wanted.