#oh well probably best to keep things simple

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than rules

Working on Modified Set 2.0! I've made some commons today and the ally-color archetypes are:

Auras

Modified

Equipment

Supplies

And Enchantments

A lot of these probably really need the context of the enemy-color archetypes to make sense, but this post is already long. One little hint: Red also gets Resonance creatures, but Differently.

[sxcret-garden]

Ateez Reaction ღ Asking them to teach you how to fuck [M]

ღ Ateez all members x fem-bodied!reader ღ genre: smut reaction (best friend!Ateez x inexperienced reader), (implied) friends to fwb/friends to lovers in one part ღ warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption

Author’s note: This is definitely not what I had planned to write today but oh well :’) I hope you guys enjoy~

Edit: This is labelled as having a fem-bodied!reader, but Yeosang's, San's, Mingi's and Jongho's parts also work with a gn!reader (I changed the wording slightly for two of those parts to make them gn, cause the original versions weren't very far away from that) - Yunho's part is technically gn too, but i think one line of it makes no sense if reader is imagined to be male bodied!

Hongjoong:

when one day you somewhat shyly ask him if he would teach you how to please a guy he’s definitely surprised

but it’s also not like he sees a problem with friends hooking up? i mean - y’all know each other well and trust each other, so having sex shouldn’t be an issue

teaches you everything you wanted to know and then some more, until suddenly you can barely even remember that other guy who made you feel like you needed to practice so much anymore

he’ll be gentle with you, seeing how you don’t have much experience yet, and somehow he’ll end up pleasuring you first to help you relax

only when you’re about to cum on his fingers does he stop for a second to consider whether it’s really okay to go this far with you

but you’re enjoying yourself, and now you’re whining for him to keep going, so that’s what he does

makes you cum and then lets you rest for a bit, before he starts guiding your hands down his body

praises you for everything you do and gently nudges you in the right direction, until you have him cumming into your fist - but he won’t stop there

there’s just something insanely hot to him about having full control over what you do to him as he gives you instructions, and this is definitely also awakening some kind of corruption kink deep inside him

eventually you end up on top of him as he guides you down his cock and into a steady rhythm, having you ride him

and of course this becomes a regular thing between the two of you, both keeping up the pretense that you’re still just “practicing”, when really there’s a carnal need growing inside both of you that makes you always come back to each other for more

Seonghwa:

the first time you bring it up to him that you’ve been wondering if he could help you practice having sex he feels conflicted to say the least

of course he wants to help you!! but this is about having sex with one of his best friends, and he doesn’t know if he wants to cross that line with you

but at the same time it’s also apparent that your question is affecting him when you can see his ears turn red, and eventually he has to get out of there for a second to get himself a glass of water sakdfjlks

“So is that a yes?” you ask him when he comes back, and he almost spits the water back out aksdljfkjsd

“I-I’ll have to think about it, Y/N…” he somehow manages to stutter, before he forcibly changes topic

he needs a few days to calm down about this, but once some time has passed he figures it’s probably not a big issue if he helped you out a bit, right?

you agree on a few rules like no kissing, no actual intercourse, but he’s willing to let you touch him otherwise

and so you decide to start slow, with a simple handjob, and he actually finds himself enjoying the way he can tell you what to do, gently push you in the right direction, plus the sight of having your hands wrapped around his cock just does something very sinful to him - so it’s no surprise that you don’t have any trouble making him cum

but now he feels the need to pay you back, and so you let him finger you, and his skillful touches throw you over the edge in no time

you do this a few times, until eventually you find yourselves growing more needy, and you end up sucking him off while he eats you out, quietly turning it into a game of who can make the other cum faster in your mind

needless to say, now that you started casually hooking up you won’t be stopping anytime soon

Yunho:

he is SOSO flustered when you first ask him about whether he could teach you a bit about sex the first time and immediately says no aksjdklfsk

“Y/N, we’re just friends… shouldn’t you do that with an actual boyfriend?”

but you insist, admitting that you feel embarrassed about how inexperienced you are, and of course this guy reassures you that you’re fine the way you are, and once the right guy comes along he will surely be understanding with you

and as much as you want to believe his words, your insecurities prevail, until eventually you find an agreement that you can at least come ask him about stuff if you feel unsure about something so he could give you a verbal explanation

and you take him up on that offer pretty soon, simply because you’re curious kasjflkasdj

so when one day you ask him out of the blue whether guys prefer getting handjobs or blowjobs he’s a blushing mess first of all

“W-well, it depends on the guy…?” - so you ask him what he prefers and now he’s visibly uncomfortable

but he figures you’re just curious, so he tells you about how both is nice, it really depends on his mood, but he probably prefers a simple handjob most of the time

he loosens up a bit eventually, and as you continue talking about the topic and you ask him all kinds of questions, neither of you can deny that it’s affecting you

except nothing really happens afterwards, because you know he wouldn’t want to overstep that boundary

it’s only until a little later, when you’re both drunk at a party and he suddenly pulls you aside to tell you that he hasn’t been able to think about anything but what it would be like to have sex with you

and well, you pressing your body up against his does nothing to deflate that situation, and so you disappear in the nearest room where it’s just the two of you, and in no time clothes are flying off and your hands are all over each other

but despite the desperation that the both of you are feeling, he’s still careful with you, taking the lead as you spend the rest of the night fucking in that room

Yeosang:

he has no idea how to react when you ask him to teach you how to fuck, so it’s just awkward silence for a few moments

until he offers to treat you to a few hours with a sex worker instead ksajdflkjs

and well, that’s not exactly what you had in mind, because the point of you asking him was that he’s someone who’s known you for a long time and who knows you well

“Ahhh, I see… then sorry that I can’t be who you want me to be, but no.” (why does he have to say it so dramatically fksdjkfas)

you’re of course a bit disappointed, but it’s not like you don’t understand him - not everyone would want to cross that line with a friend - so you leave it at that for now

until one evening you’re together at your place, and you can tell something’s off about him - he seems fidgety and like he’s anxious about something, so eventually you decide to ask what’s up

and he doesn’t really want to give you an answer at first, but eventually he manages to force out an explanation

“Just… what you said to me a few days ago… I thought about it again… and maybe we can try it after all?” - you two talk a lot so it takes you a while to understand what he’s hinting at, but once you do, you’re immediately by his side

you reach for his hand as you’re sitting side by side, and somehow both your nerves are making it hard to do anything

“S-so… how do we start? Do we kiss?” he asks, and you agree that that might be a good idea, and weirdly enough as soon as your lips meet his and you fall into an unhurried pace, both your anxieties seem to be washed away

you get into his lap, and somehow you both just end up following your instincts, only breaking the kiss to tell each other what feels good, and then eventually in order to moan at the way you dry humping him is about to get the both of you off

you’re taking this very slow, but it becomes a regular thing for you to meet up in order to have sex from then on, both exploring and learning about each other’s body as you go

San:

another one who feels very conflicted the first time you bring it up to him

he doesn’t think mere friends should be doing this kind of thing with each other, but at the same time he can’t say he isn’t tempted

he says no at first, but the days after he just can’t stop thinking about you naked, on top of him, underneath him, you name it

until these thoughts start to haunt him in his dreams too, and he knows he can’t possibly be normal around you anymore if he doesn’t do anything about this

so he decides to help you out after all, under the premise that you won’t have any actual intercourse

instead, he teaches you how he likes to be touched with hands only, and eventually he also lets you suck him off

tells you exactly what to do that would drive any guy insane, gives you advice in between moans and at some point he will start rambling, until his high is coming so close that his train of thought just cuts off

and once he sees the state he put you in after cumming in your mouth - your glazed over eyes, his seed dripping down your lips before you lick it all up and swallow - he just can’t help himself anymore

“Shit, Y/N, let me fuck you, please,” he mutters, desperation in his voice

and as soon as you give him the okay this guy will be all over you, being rougher than you’d have expected him to be, fucking you as he’s led only by his instincts and his need to feel the warmth of being inside you

Mingi:

he’s another one who isn’t opposed to having sex with a good friend

actually, he feels a weird sense of relief when you ask him if you could practice with him, because he feels very comfortable with you and so he knows he too will be able to let go quickly

you start slow anyway, because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you - seeing how you don’t have much experience yet - and so he’s even more surprised when you reach for his dick pretty quickly

you ask if what you’re doing is good, and as you’re giving him a few strokes this guy is hard in no time

will put his hand onto yours to guide you into the pace he likes, but very soon he’ll simply leave it up to you, wanting to know exactly what you would do to him if he doesn’t interfere

and soon enough his sanity will start to slip away, and when he starts bucking his hips into your hand the dynamic shifts ever so slightly, because suddenly you don’t seem so inexperienced anymore at all as you dare to tease him about how needy he is

lets you make him cum onto his stomach, before you call it quits for the day, but you’ll be sure to come back for more soon

he’ll let you get him off in all kinds of ways, until eventually you two start experimenting with anything and everything you’re curious about, all under the premise of “practice”

and soon he too will feel the need to return the favour and get you off too, learning all about how your body reacts to his touch, and figuring out together what feels best for you

you’re gonna spend whole weekends at his place just fucking, and in no time you basically know each other’s bodies like the back of your own hand

and it’s more than likely that in the process this guy actually falls in love with you, and even though it’s still a whiiiile until he actually finds the courage to tell you that, he will make damn sure you won’t even think about wandering off to someone else

“You’re mine, Y/N,” - the words will repeatedly slip past his lips as he’s fucking you, and surely enough they do something to you too

Wooyoung:

you two tend to be very touchy to begin with - even though you’re definitely not in love he gives you kisses on the cheeks or your neck all the time, and when you’re having a sleepover you can be sure it will include a good amount of cuddling

so when one day he’s spooning you, focused on drawing random patterns on the skin on your arm, and you tell him that you’ve been thinking whether he would be okay with showing you how to properly please a guy he isn’t put off by the idea at all - though he is a little surprised, both because he was of the impression you had a lot more experience than you do, and because he didn’t think you’d ever consider him the right person to come to with a favour like this (like????? who else would be a better person??????)

and this guy is so gentle and respectful with you - he’ll ask exactly what you want him to show you, what you want him to do, will ask before whatever he does whether you’re okay with it or not,...

you just end up having really sweet sex as you help each other out of your clothes and you both get a little distracted worshipping each other’s body

there will be a lot of giggling as you slowly figure out what the other likes and what not, until you end up flat on your back, with his head between your legs, and suddenly all that light-hearted curiousity turns into a deep passion

he eats you out and makes you cum on his tongue multiple times, eager to please you and to see how many more of those sinful moans and whimpers he can draw out of you

until finally you grab him by the hair and pull him away so he would give you a break to catch your breath and to remind him that he was supposed to teach you how to do this stuff

“You asked me how to please a guy,” he replies. “This is how you please this guy right here.” - at this point he is absolutely pussy drunk, there’s no going back for him

will offer to get you off every single time you have a sleepover from now on (and mysteriously the amount of sleepovers you have is suddenly increasing drastically), but he will also exert some amount of self control beforehand and let you get him off too, before he makes you feel good

Jongho:

the first time you very awkwardly hint at him that you’ve been wondering if he’d be willing to teach you how to fuck he simply laughs

until he realizes you weren’t joking

panics internally as all the times he’s gotten off while thinking of you flash him by and he somehow manages to tell you that you’re just friends and you should really reconsider this!!!

he never actually gives you a proper answer on that day, and neither of you bring it up until like two weeks later

you’re both chilling with your phones in your hands, having made yourselves comfortable on his bed as you often do when you’re at his place, when he suddenly speaks up

“So… do you still want me to… teach you a few things?” he asks, not taking his eyes off his phone, and you can feel the nervousness radiating off of him - but as soon as you say yes that mood instantly gets replaced with confidence

“Then come here.” - he goes slow to figure out what you’re okay with and what not, but when you throw your arms around him once he starts scattering kisses in your neck as he hovers above you, he knows he can’t hold back anymore

gets you off with his hand first, before he guides yours to his cock and shows you exactly how he wants you to return the favour

“Wanna go all the way? Cause I’ve been thinking about this…” he admits, and when you say yes he doesn’t spare you any details

tells you about what he wants to do to you, and lets you decide which of his fantasies you want to recreate, until you end up in all kinds of positions, having him fucking one orgasm after the other out of you, until it becomes clear you’re getting tired and you really can’t take any more

you’re both very awkward after this, to the point you act weird around each other even in front of your other friends, who start wondering whether you had a fight

but as things calm down between the two of you, you meet up again at his place

you decided prior to that that what happened several days ago was a one time thing, and you wouldn’t do it again

or so you thought, because as soon as you find yourselves side by side on his bed again, neither of you can deny that the only thing you’re thinking about is continuing where you had left off last time

[bettystonewell]

There Were Only Two Beds

Read on AO3 || Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester x Reader

If you steal the blankets from your charming, adorably cute and sexy best friend with whom you’ve shared more than just a kiss with, then, well, you might get quite a fright, and perhaps never live it down. 4.1k words

Tags: Smut, Fluff, Vulnerability, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, One Night Stands, Casual Sex, Cunnilingus, P in V Sex, Motel Sex, Dean Winchester Doesn’t Do Too Badly With His Feelings, Dual POV MDNI 18+ Only

The sex was—it was great sex. The kind you gossip about with your girlfriends over every single detail. 

Was he big? Was he wide? Did he curve in the middle?

Dean was a yes to all three. He was long, thick as a trunk, and he had a way of hitting all the right places. Places you could still feel where his round tip had hit thanks to his ingenious angling. 

Your clit was…well used. He strummed you like an instrument. Plucked and brushed the sensitive bundle with both fingers and tongue. It stung a little when he wiped you over with the warm cloth. Felt the cool air when he retreated to the bathroom again. 

You’d go there yourself, only your legs are jelly, also thanks to the angles he put you through, except when he came. That was by simple missionary. Your hands in his, his eyes on yours. 

Dean Winchester was gentle then. His face contorted but euphoric. Mouth half smiling, making a rounded “oh,” with creased brows and a chuckle unlike any other you’d heard before. The moment captured when he stilled, all but down below. 

The sounds he made were god given. Like his touch, his taste, his smell. 

Like the leather from his father’s jacket hanging off his shoulders, giving him a shadow you’d liken to that of Yogi Bear; to the cheap whiskey he insists on drinking even though you swear it’d keep Baby going on a single drop. The Impala herself, with whatever oil change and wax he’s given her throughout the day while you weren’t looking. 

His musk is musky like the earth itself. Full of the things you’d find in nature if nature was a thing you liked to surround yourself with. 

It’s in the sheets. It’s in the room, and it’s only been two hours. 

Your bags are on the table in the corner. His shot gun pokes out of the hole made by the zipper. The light from the street outside spills through the thin fabric of the ghastly curtains. Makes the silver of his colt sparkle.

The door does little to house you from the world. Trucks passing the motel on the nearby highway rattle the foundations, and wooden paneling opposite you. 

You can hear Dean gargling beyond the walls of the bathroom, though that door is ajar. 

What a charming place for your first tryst. Really sets the mood after the gruelling day of monster guts and dental-floss stitches, but you’re alive. And you had that really great sex to ease the tension. All thanks to Dean’s needless worry and martyrdom.

You stretch your limbs, crack your toes. Raise yourself up on your elbows and take a peek at what’s taking him so long. Should probably try to move. Get up and take a leak or cover yourself. How is this going to go down when he returns?

Fuck it.

You’re upright, standing, two feet on the ground. Tits out, panties remain…somewhere, so you reach for his flannel on the edge of the bed where you left it and slip it on. The worn material is soft, and the Dean smell only intensifies. 

Great sex. Great smell. You could get used to this if this is to become a thing.

“You done in there?” you say, trying your best to put on your most normal voice. Let’s not let him catch on that you’re scared shitless of the after effects of what you just did. 

You can keep telling yourself how wonderful he felt inside of you. How delicious the stretch still is as you take a tentative step. 

The man just gave you aftercare, what little he could, but it was something, for fuck’s sake. For someone so hellbent on not wanting a relationship, his courtesy for a bed partner is wasted. 

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? You want this again. Give him his refractory period and you’d let him fuck you, here and now. Tomorrow? Next week even? Oh god, don’t fuck this up. You’ve gotta play it by ear.

At the bathroom door now you call his name, and there’s no way he can’t hear you. You hear the faucet being shut off and his face with its huge grin appears. His eyes look you up and down.

“Nice shirt,” he says. 

You don’t miss the linger when his gaze falls where your bra would be, but you don’t cover yourself. Don’t hold back the tug in your own mouth either, going for the playful, sultry lip bite. Making sure your lower lip plumps out just right. 

“You done?” you’re asking again.

Dean nods. “Yeah.” His voice, just as practiced as yours was.

He’s under the covers of his bed when you return. His because there’s technically two. That one, where you fucked, and the one you didn’t, that’s yours because of its proximity to the main door. 

His head’s nestled in his hands that’re nestled in the pillow. The white crisp sheets, full of too much starch, a blanket, no doubt scratchy, and the duvet cover his lower half. 

He’s grinning at you. His eyes travel the length of your body once more, and if that’s not an invitation to slip under the blankets with him, you don’t know what is.

Still, you ask, “Care for some company,” keeping it cool and suave, of course.

“Haven’t had my post sex snuggle yet. Even a guy like me needs one of those.” And there’s that chuckle of his again. 

“You’re an idiot. You know that?” you say, but you’re lifting the pile of bedding and slipping in underneath it all the same. 

Dean lets his arm down and pulls you closer.

“Might be an idiot, sweetheart, but you just slept with me. What does that make you?”

“Thoroughly fucked.” 

You can’t tell whose grin is bigger.

There’s an ease to this, and for the most part, what butterflies you had when you got up before are gone, but there’s still the unspoken hanging over your head. The what now? What do we do come morning?

You need to know.

Tentative as your steps were, you raise your knee and drape your thigh over his. Nothing unusual about that. This is a post coital snuggle after all. He used the word first, not you. This is just what you do with your partners. 

You just don’t normally hold yourself still as a statue, waiting for them to flinch or move away.

But Dean grabs your hand. Intertwines his fingers with yours and even goes as far as bringing them up to kiss your knuckles.

“Thorough, huh?” He hums. The cracks of his crow’s feet, prominent so you know he’s smiling with his eyes. “It was good sex.” 

“Damn good,” you add, ignoring the hammer in your heart that comes with like-minded thinking.

Your foot strokes his leg - the closest thing to a tail wag, were you a dog. It does that. During usually. Grounding your body further into the one you’re with. 

His hair is soft. He doesn’t have much covering him in the scheme of things. You learnt that when you fell into bed, all but your underwear discarded.

Your legs were locked when the real kissing started. Like an involuntary action, spurring you both on. Your lips parted, tongues swiped, your calves caressed each other. 

Ankles wrapped ‘round ankles. Your thighs wrapped ‘round his torso. There was that way he angled his hips and just…went for it. Pounded into you.

Women in the movies call it a jackhammer or something of the like. The speed, ungodly, you’d think him a vamp or wendigo, yet somehow he still hit that sweet spot inside again and again without slowing down the intensity. Your muscles pull from the bruising, most likely up in there. 

He did it with his mouth, too. Well, his lips and tongue. You don’t really know what it was. besides, he had you begging for it. The pressure of his suction teed with his fingers dipping in and out of you just as fast. Your cheeks feel warm just thinking about it. 

As does your cunt.

“Is that, ah, thing you did? Is that like a signature move or something?” you say.

Dean huffs through his nose. “What thing?” His bared teeth tell you he knows what you’re talking about.  

“You know.” You raise yourself up on elbow and palm and look down at him. “What you did with your mouth?” 

“Ah. That thing.” He chuckles. “I did good, huh?”

Your free hand drags his arm up, lays a faux punch to his cheek. You’d do it for real, but then you wouldn’t know where you stand, and you really need to find out. So, “Guess so,” you say, keeping the peace without giving him a big head. He has one of those already. Everything about the guy is big, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder what Sam might be like. 

Lol - you just had sex with Dean - you’re lying in bed with Dean, and that’s where your mind goes? 

Squash that quick smart. This has been a long time coming. The flirting. The looks. Arguments just ‘cause it’s more fun to rile him up. And let’s face it, “I wouldn’t complain if you did it again,” you say. 

No time like the present, right?

It’s got him interested. At least he shuffles and turns to face you, letting go of your fingers to drape his arm over your waist and splay his hand across your back. 

“Yeah?” He squeezes.

“Yeah,” you breathe and the world shifts so that all you see and hear is him. Sure, there are still the street lights with their fluorescent glow; the same rattling semi trailers screeching past, but there’s no place you’d rather be. 

His eyes flit over your face, and he scooches in closer. The legs of his underwear brush against your own, and it’s him placing his thigh over yours now, his thing stirring behind them. 

His breath is minty from brushing. The leather, the whiskey, the earth is there, too. 

Moisture from the tip of his tongue leaves a trail when he plants generous kisses over your lips, cheek, jaw and into the dip by your collarbone. It cools your skin and sends shivers up and down your spine, but you’re not complaining. 

No. Wait. You are.

“De?” you say. First time for everything. Voice caught in your throat when he sucked the crease made by your shoulder. 

His answer is to hum, and that just sends more signals south, and it’s not what you want—no, yes, it is. 

It’s exactly what you want, but you need to know the conditions, ‘cause you want more than just one more roll between the sheets.

Your, “No. Dean. Stop,” is said between pants. Takes everything in you to do so. Every touch, every nip, every graze electrifies your nerves, and, “I mean, I wanna keep doing this,” pushes through. “Not just tonight.” 

Your fingers find his bicep. It’s firm. Nice. Stong. The way your hand fits ‘round it is fascinating as it is grounding. Yeah, you definitely want this again and again. 

Your body tenses like it’s made of stone or steel, though glass is more fitting. You will break depending on what he says, and fuck - you’ve screwed it up, haven’t you? You can’t move forward and you can’t take it back. Friends being friends again never works out. Not on TV, not in real life, and Dean doesn’t do commitment.

He’s dangerous, he’s lost too much, and he’ll spiel some self righteous crap to keep you safe and distant. 

So when he props himself back up. When he doesn’t let you go, doesn’t run straight for the hills or the bathroom ‘cause it’s closer, he stares at you instead. 

Those green eyes of his flit again, and soon his mouth joins them. 

It’s not quite a smirk. The corners raise just enough to mark the dimples on the sides. His top lip twitches and there’s a flash of white teeth beneath. It’s breathtaking. 

Why does he have to do that?

“Me, too,” he says, and nope. Nope. That line’s the real breath stealer. “Least I wanna try. Maybe every second week?” He snickers, and the butterflies return. Warm you from within. 

“Asshole.” You pat his cheek with your entire hand, hard. The soft slap reminds you of others you’ve made together during the night. When he had you from behind and his crown jewels slapped against your lips. When him above you made pockets of air that escaped on impact. 

As does his hand, striking your rear. He soothes it and stretches the surrounding flesh. “Well, I have one. You do, too. Seemed to like it when I—”

“Dean.” Your voice is chastising to start, but it calms, grows uncertain. Jaw tenses, and your cheeks puff out when you say, “You really wanna?” 

His do the same through his, “Yeah.” 

It’s you who kisses him this time. Hand still on his cheek holds him in place as you press firm on his lower lip, tongue presses further into his waiting mouth. 

His fingers roam the skin beneath his shirt. Hips bump and grind against your naked core. His hardness glides over your stomach. He’d be right up in there if it weren’t for the thin barrier keeping him shut away and his leg still over yours. 

You weren’t expecting things to happen so soon. Well, you hoped, but as he bends and dips lower into the one between your boobs, questions, more troubles than they’re worth, come to mind.

Your hand moves to thread through his hair. Your fingers scratch over his scalp, and soon you’re tugging and bringing him back to look up at you.

“Does this mean no more girls at the bar?” you say, and his plump lips purse. 

You’re at just the right angle to see his jaw tick when he swallows. See his eyes change from lust blown to deep in thought. And then his brow quirks, and the smirk is back. “Could say the same for you, sweetheart,” he teases.

“I’m serious.” You pull to turn away, but his thigh squeezes you. 

Hands find yours and he rolls until you’re pinned and staring up at him. He lingers on his elbows above you. 

“So am I.” His forehead nuzzles yours. “You’re gonna need to keep the short shorts and mini skirts home, darlin’.”

“What?”

“I can’t fight off every guy that looks at ya. Gotta save my strength for the real monsters.”

“But I don’t—”

It doesn’t matter when he kisses you again, attentive, slow. 

His pelvis rocks against you and his fingers thread through your hair and you’re enveloped. He almost cradles you. His lips on fire, your lips, both sets, on fire, too.

“You want me, you got me, alright? We’ll make it work,” he says when he pulls back enough to hover inches from your face. “What do the normal people say? Exclusive?”

“We are normal.”

He snorts, and you can taste the mint still on his breath. “We just ganked a pack of wolves.”

“And then we came here and had sex.”

“No. We came here, and you stitched me up.” He smirks and his brows wag. “Then we had sex.” He dips and pecks. “‘Bout to have more.” Another. “If you can handle it?”

Your smile tugs at the corners, a thin line for someone being kissed. But all your blood has gone lower, and the ache between your legs makes itself known. 

Your muscles are sore as his hands glide over them. The swell of your chest, tightened abdominals, and pangs in your lower belly that still throb when you shift. But his fingers caress you. Move, loving and tantalising. They make their way to your pillowed mound, where they breach your seam, and though you’re hissing at the contact, further in, you squeeze and flutter. Need everything he’s giving.

However long it lasts.

“You didn’t answer me,” he says even though he’s gliding through your wet heat. Eyes bore into you when he finds your entrance, and breaches it, too. You feel him twitch on your stomach at your surprise. “Gonna sing my name again when you come?”

His face is straight-laced, but his lips part when he twists and strikes. Adds another finger and he’s pulling at those crow’s-feat once again.

Deliberate and slow, he stretches you all over. Whispers more words, more encouragement. Speaks the dirty talk like it’s going out of fashion. You just won’t tell him he’s good at it. 

You respond to it, of course. Encourage him to continue. All discomfort, replaced with longing the second his kisses move over you again.

Your hands are in his hair and you’re shoving him down. Anticipating the first strike of his tongue and it doesn’t disappoint. Who knew Dean Winchester was so willing to give head? You’d return the favour, but you want that thing he does again, and you ain’t afraid to beg now that he’s there.

“Whatcha need, darlin’?” he says against your lips. Gives you another swipe before pulling away. His hand is still there, though. His fingers coat more of you in your own slick. Slips his thumb down lower and places light pressure there.

You can just see his eyes looking back up at you behind his arm, holding your pelvis down. Hear the confidence when he adds, “You like it when I do that, huh?”

Dean knows you do. He sees it in your eyes. 

But he also sees the hesitation, the nervous breath you keep dragging out that rattles your stomach muscles under his touch. The way your thighs try to creep in on him on instinct to cover yourself. 

He’s not letting you. He won’t fuck this up. He’s already had you once, and he means what he says when he says he wants to make it work. He’ll try just as hard, if not harder, to keep you close by. Keep you safe. 

He didn’t jump in front of you without reason. Would never take the fall for the hell of it, regardless of what you want to believe. No. He wanted to protect you. Needed to. Unaware that this right here is what he needed more. What was to come.

Dean moves his thumb. Slides his fingers back through your sweet cunt and brings his nose and lips down to treat himself again. 

It’s you. Plain you, and nothing’s ever tasted better once he fights through the initial remnants of latex and lube.

“You want me here?” he says between tentative licks. Puckers his mouth over your clit, sucks, then looks right at you. “Tell me like you did before.”

He grins when you say, “There.”

His mouth is sore, if he’s honest. He’s been grinning since the first kiss. Whole body’s had a workout, but his dick is still rearing to go. So hard it’s almost painful, but he won’t wrap and tap until you coat his fingers and chin again. He sees your shift in movement. He knows what he’s doing alright.

Fingers curl and move in and out of you, searching for that spot each time. Doesn’t take long for your fingers to leave him. They grip the sheets and tug while his tongue laps and swirls. Increases in speed. Strains those muscles, but it’s worth it just to hear you cry.

“De—” you say. He loves it when it gets cut off. Knows he’s done right before your back even arches. 

He pushes you down and presses his mouth firmer into you.

You reward him with more juices. Makes his slit leak and his stomach tighten. Fuck. He’s gotta make this quick.

He works you through it, albeit painfully slow. Then pulls away to rid himself of his damn boxers and grab another rubber. 

He’s sheathed up, covered and back up top in no time. Well, he coulda been more graceful. But he’s here now, and you’re beneath him, and fuck - think unsexy thoughts.

“You okay?” you say. Your grabby hand has left him, but the other still rests on his cheek.

“Yeah.” He huffs. Counts backwards, four, three, two, one. “Just ah. He’s oversensitive. Wanna give ya a good time so you don’t change your mind.”

“You think I’m that shallow?” you ask, and shit, he’s done it now. But you’re grinning wider than he is and his attitude turns back to cocky.

“I’ve just been deep clam diving.” He cringes. “You’re perfect.” He saves.

Your brow quirks, but he’s capturing your lips. Pulling you close and rolling. 

Dean’s head hits the pillow, and he stares up at you. Grabs your hands and looks on in wonder as you sink down and ride him for all he’s worth.

His hands grip your hips, he falls asleep still gripping them, but when he wakes, you’re not there.

He’d be happy about it normally. He would. His morning wood is the last thing you wanna feel if you’ve left him during the night, but as his heart takes in the aches and pangs of his body, and his eyes adjust, he’s also somewhat relieved to see your lump under the covers of the other bed.

You haven’t left the room at least. He’s not so high and dry. Guess you woke up with your senses. Must realise he’s not all you thought he was. 

He thought you were going to make things work, but he must’ve got it wrong.

He sits up, looks around the room and narrows in on his underwear. Dives for them, coordinated as the sheet wrapped around him allows. He has to wriggle his hips a little to pull them up over his legs and around the bedding, but he soon stands covered, no longer naked inside and out. He could face the world. Just not you.

Dean dresses. Tucks and folds his dick into his jeans. Shirt over that. Flannel…wait.

You’re still wearing yesterday’s. He spots the sleeve peeking out under the blanket. Fingers curled, hand relaxed, light snores and steady breaths that move the shadows the morning light outside casts over you. 

You didn’t leave the room. You didn’t change your clothes. Just—changed beds. 

Why?

Should he… Should he join you? Wake you? Shut the bathroom door a little too hard when he goes and takes a leak. 

Yup. Let’s go with that. Clicks the lock a second time for extra measure.

It’s enough to wake you. At least you’re awake when he returns. Sitting up, messy bed hair. You’re beautiful. Your plump lips are so damn kissable, but he’s wary of what you’ll do. What you’ll say.

Your “Morning” comes first. A smile creeps into your cheeks second and that has to be a good sign. You had great sex, twice. Asked him not to hit on girls at the bar. 

You were thoroughly fucked. Twice!

“Hey,” he says, and you’re on to him. Your eyes pierce his. He may as well be still naked. Thank god his dick has gone down, for now. 

“Is everything okay?” you ask. You stand up and walk over to him, too. 

His flannel is still open and there’s nothing underneath, nothing except smooth skin, soft curves and warmth, care, love?

Hold the phone. Nope. He’s not going there. Not unless you say something first. He loves you like family. It’s just, regular families don’t want to kiss and taste each other and he’ll definitely have more of that 

He nods to the bed. Bides his time to choose his tone and words so you can’t contrive them for anything else, but nothing eloquent is coming. “You, ah, you jumped ship.” He swallows. Creases his brow. 

Didn’t mean to do that.

But you’re grinning at him again. Your arms stretch up and wrap around his neck. You’re pressing against him now, and he’s resorting back to unsexy thoughts. 

“You’re a blanket hog.”

His neck ticks. His hands are on your ass and he ticks there, too. Grabs a handful of the plump flesh and digs his fingertips in to stop himself from spinning. “What?”

“I got cold,” you say, and peck his lips. There’s a definite shoulder shrug because your waist is lifting and your rack is brushing against him. “I tried to wake you, but you didn’t move. Though you did mumble something ‘bout five more minutes.” You chuckle. Pull back. 

“But I’m definitely not Sam.” You stare into his eyes.

Yup. His cheeks are hot and his gut is doing flips. His lower stomach and the contents of his sack pull tight. “No. Definitely not.” 

He presses his mouth to yours, presses you into his crotch. Feels your lashes flutter against his skin. 

The sex was great. The second round was better. But this right here is where it’s at. His heart is full, his world is bigger, and for a few more hours, he’ll keep you to himself, and the blankets, too, if you’re gonna hold him to it. 

And that’s how I spent my long weekend - besides dealing with fights from too much chocolate! Hope you liked it! ❤️

DEAN TAGLIST:

@globetrotter28 @ambiguous-avery @arcannaa @jollyhunter @zepskies

@reluctanthalfwayoptimism @supernotnatural2005 @jackles010378 @kaz-2y5-spn @applelovesposts

@jaydensluv @foxyjwls007 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @waynes-multiverse

@kazchester-fanfiction @maddie0101 @ladykitana90 @luvr4miya @amyjam78

@stoneyggirl2 @winchesterwild78 @missywinchester15 @deansbbyx @kr804573

@lyarr24 @salemslostwitch @mostlymarvelgirl @ladysparkles78 @multiversefanfics

@31miw-inkpsycho @yoursrosie @Theantisoci-alone @roseamie13 @krazykelly

@my-stories-vault @amberlthomas @levine-23 @ultimatecin73 @district447

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@redwinexsupernova @artemys-ackles

If you’d like to be added, you can add yourself HERE, or if you’d like to be removed, please let me know ☺️

[amazinglyashy]

Hello, can you do LADS men's reaction to MC/reader working too hard, to the point that she looks tired and drained? She also easily gets sick because of stress. And yes, it's based on me; right now, I'm so tired because of work, and I have dance practice almost every day for our departmental performance while I'm sick with the flu. Thank you 💜

Sorry for the delay, but I wanted to do this one justice as best as I could, because oh man did I feel this personally! Not the same at all, but I get heavy duty chronic pain, and I overwork myself often by choice or not, all the time. Feel better anon <3 I hope you enjoy, and make sure to get some Pedialyte or sports drinks, and rest whenever you can. Your health is extremely important!

Love and Deepspace Li's reactions to you being overworked and sick

Zayne -

He's a doctor, you can't even get into the realm of hoping to hide it from him for long, and you'll want to hide it from him if you're actually wanting to be doing whatever it is that's causing you to be overworked to the point of illness.

He will take a single look at you the first time he sees you once you've reached this point- routine examination, stopping by work to see you or vice versa, running something by your place he borrowed, even just you making the mistake of taking an offered ride home from him due to how tired you are. It was a lapse in judgement on your part in trying to keep this from him, but your beyond exhausted brain didn't process it at the time.

But you sure are processing it now that you've been 'kidnapped' and taken back to his place.

He has already filled out a formal doctors note- benefits of being your primary physician- and sent it over to your bosses and managers. There's no arguing.

"Zayne, I'm-" "If you are about to try a weak attempt at convincing me you are alright, I will accept it as you insulting my intelligence as a doctor."

You're in his bed, under his blankets, probably in his pajamas since he wouldn't let you escape home, and drinking the warm drink he made for you to have after taking medicine he had given you to help with your illness. He'll order food that will be good for you to eat as well, and if it's too late for takeout, he'll definitely be cooking for you as well.

Once you're done eating, he'll make sure you're properly cared for by massaging any tired or pained muscles. If that's your entire body, then so be it. Close your eyes, tilt hour head back, and relax even though it hurts in a good way sometimes, because he's not letting up.

Not until you feel better. No matter how long that takes.

Rafayel -

Genuinely, he's offended and hurt that you've overworked yourself this hard and haven't told him. And boy, is he going to let you know it.

He's carrying you gently from wherever he had found you looking so tired- no it does not matter if you were in the middle of working- while actively scolding you in his arms.

"Maybe I should just leave you there all day, come see you in the evening when you get a bad case of amnesia. Would you like that? Huh? No? Well, then stop being stupid."

He doesn't even want to dare set foot in your place right now. He's not in the mood to clean, and he knows if this is the state you're in, your apartment is probably so much worse due to just how busy and exhausted you've been.

He'll go clean it later, but right now he's just grumpy.

There is something about the fresh, oceanside air that helps your headache though- or maybe it's the light linen on his bed that he would have dropped you on had you not looked like the most frail thing he had seen all week.

He's muttering snarky remarks to you, but they're devoid of any bite due to his actions as he speaks them-

Getting you a fluffy robe to change into, putting something simple in the oven while you get comfortable, working special lotion into your muscles, making you lemon and honey tea, making it more humid so any sinus problems clear and help you breathe- he's being vocal through it all, but spoiling you as much as he can nonetheless.

"I don't care if you have a lot to do. Just- ask for help next time. And if I can't help with your work, at least let me help you relax once you're home. I don't mind you staying over either, so that I can make you feel better. Just promise me you'll do better next time, so I can help you before you get this bad."

Xavier -

He probably stopped by your apartment to return something he borrowed, and you made the mistake of answering the door directly after coming home. You were at your peak of tired, and your head had started pounding for some reason... and didn't you feel a bit hot...?

"Oh- You look- You don't look very good. Is everything alright?"

You can't even answer before he's reaching out a hand to hover in front of you, trying to decide between touching you and not, before deciding on the former. He can feel you're just the slightest bit unsteady from working so you're being scooped up in an instant and taken to the bed you had already been planning to go to.

"What have they been having you do...? Never mind. That's- not important right now."

Takes off your shoes and socks, murmurs something about giving you a massage in a bit, before tugging blankets and plushies around you. He'll leave to let you change into pajamas or something more comfortable, and he'll keep himself busy by making you something to eat or clean up your apartment for you.

He tries to cook you something, he really does try. But he definitely has more talent at talking on the phone to the restaurant he's ordering you takeout from. The pan he tried to use does not survive the attempt.

The takeout is good when it comes, though, and it helps that he gave you some medicine prior to help keep it down. Even if you're not currently nauseous, he's pretty worried about your state worsening quickly.

You won't notice until it's too late, but he's already finding out how to transfer some of your workload to himself. By 'some', it's definitely 'all'.

"No, I won't change my mind. Not until you're better. You're so tired, let me do this for you. You can make it up to me by getting me something in the claw machine later."

Sylus -

"I'm just going to go-"

"Go where, kitten?"

You had made the mistake of nearly falling over under the watchful gaze of Mephisto, who had decided it would be absolutely wonderful to relay the information about it and your current state back to Sylus as quickly as he could.

Which is how you had ended up stuck in the hallway the led to your apartment, practically pinned to the wall with Sylus's hands on either side of you.

That is also how you ended up slung over Sylus's shoulder as he unlocked your apartment door for you and went inside, carrying you like it was nothing.

To be fair, you couldn't do much to fight him off this time except utilize a few choice words. You were so beyond exhausted, and starting to feel pretty ill, to boot.

He's got you to bed as soon as the door is shut. You're allowed a hot shower if you promise him a few dozen times that you'll get straight to bed after. He makes sure to promise you that he'll come and make you get in bed if you go against that promise. For once, you don't want to call his bluff.

You're in bed soon enough, with a cool rag pressed on your forehead, some pain medication long since down your throat, and food already on the way courtesy of Luke and Kieran's special henchmen delivery service.

Lying in bed is like heaven on your sore muscles and aching joints, not to mention the pounding headache you've had since starting to feel sick and missing out on sleep. But what somehow feels even better is Sylus's hands on you.

They're just gentle touches, his fingertips ghosting over your skin to leave goosebumps at how nice it feels, and sometimes his whole hands moving slowly and lightly across your body. He'll massage your muscles later, but for now, he's just focused on getting you to sleep, even if just for a little bit until the food gets here.

He knows you need it.

[sunseed-fandump]

Jailhouse Rock

The kids make a new (and very questionable) friend.

AU: Bad Batch Word Count: 3,281

Well, it was official, this was the most awkward moment of Gingerbrave’s life.

The jail cell was a cramped little thing, definitely not something built with the idea of containing more than one prisoner, just like the jailhouse itself didn’t seem to be built with that many criminals in mind, as there was only one cell. He supposed it made sense that a small town in the middle of the desert wouldn’t expect too many criminals stopping by, let alone having the misfortune of all of them being caught at the same time. Yet here they were.

It wasn’t like they had wanted to get caught. This was actually one of the few times they had bothered to keep a low profile. They had stopped into town for supplies on their trip down the Pilgrim’s Path, and figured it would be best for their long journey to conserve their energy. Just get in, grab the stuff, toss the money on the counter, get out. Simple.

Then things got decidedly less simple when a couple of bounty hunters recognized the kids from their wanted posters. (When did those get printed? They looked so cool! Gingerbrave hoped he got to take one home to put up on his bedroom wall.) The scuffle resulted in a lot of property damage, Wizard getting a minor concussion, and all three kids getting hit with tranquilizer darts. Who the hell carries those around? Well, those guys, apparently.

An hour later found the trio waking up disoriented, disarmed, and awaiting transfer to the nearest Kingdom for processing. Oh, and they had a cellmate. A cellmate who seemingly hated their guts if the way she scowled at them from the other side of the tiny cell was any indication.

Resulting in the awkward stare-down that was currently happening. On his right, Wild Strawberry seemingly lost interest and started fidgeting with the drawstrings on her hood. Meanwhile to his left, Wizard had begun muttering something to himself. (A quick glance to the clock on the wall beyond the bars told Gingerbrave they probably had about an hour or two before Wizard started going off the deep-end due to withdrawal from his stupid staff. Gingerbrave couldn’t stand that parasite…)

Luckily, since he was undead, Gingerbrave didn’t have to blink, which meant he could literally stare at this weird angry lady all day if he wanted. He didn’t want to, though, so instead he tried to strike up a conversation.

“So, uh…” He scratched at the stitches on his neck. “What are you in for?”

The cookie’s scowl deepened. She was a spicy cookie if the red hair and strong scent was any indication. Her hair was done up in a ponytail and she had a scar on her forehead. She was dressed in the traditional black-and-white striped outfit one typically associated with criminals. Gingerbrave wondered, when the sheriff came back, if they would be expected to get changed into something similar.

At the cookie’s lack of a response and neither of his friends lending him a hand, Gingerbrave decided to keep talking.

“Right. Anyway, I’m Gingerbrave, and these are my friends Wizard and Wild Strawberry—“ He was cut off by the other cookie’s very clipped response.

“I know who you are.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. It seemed that was all she felt like saying though as any attempt to talk to her earned the boy the cold shoulder.

Gingerbrave eventually figured she was a lost cause, and judging by Wizard starting to rock back and forth from where he was seated, he was beginning to head into the first stages. So it was time to get going.

“Alright, we’re gonna leave now.” Gingerbrave said with a shrug before getting up from his seat and heading over to the front of the cell. He pressed his face up against the bars to get a better view of the hallway. He could just barely make out the sheriff’s office at the end of the hall. No doubt, that’s probably where their stuff was. Judging by how quiet it was, the sheriff was still out doing whatever it was that sheriffs did, which meant Gingerbrave had to be quick.

The boy tested the bars. Solid as a rock and he had neglected to bring any of his stronger arms with him. Unfortunate, but he’d have to work with it.

“Hey, Wizard,” Gingerbrave looked over to the shorter boy, who seemed to briefly snap out of whatever daze he had slipped into. “If I can get you your staff, could you get us out of here?”

“Yes!” He replied way too quickly, before shaking his head and rubbing at his temples. The migraine must have been setting in. “Yes, get me my staff and I can teleport us.”

“Sounds like a plan!” And without any hesitation Gingerbrave grabbed at his forearm just under the stitches on his left elbow, and snapped it off.

“WHAT THE HELL?!” The spicy cookie jumped back, clearly startled; all the color had drained from her face in an instant. All the kids laughed a little at her expense. (Even Strawberry, with a barely restrained ‘pfft!’)

“It’s fine! See?” The severed hand waved at her like nothing was wrong. “Watch this!” He gently set it down to the floor where, with a bit of awkward finagling he got it balanced on its fingers like a spider. He walked his hand out of the cell, slipping it between the bars, and all the cookies watched as it scuttled down the hall towards the office. Gingerbrave scrunched up his face in concentration, leaning the stub of his left arm out of the cell as far as it could go to help keep his hand within range. His spirit could stretch pretty far, but not forever, and he wanted to make sure he had full reign of the office.

Okay, that felt like the office chair. There’s the desk. He poked around a little to the right and hit a wall so maybe if he…

“Does that hurt…?” The spicy cookie’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts briefly and the boy looked over his shoulder at her. Huh, that usually wasn’t the first reaction he got when severing his parts in front of new cookies. Usually it was fear, panic, and accusations of being a dough-eating monster, but this cookie’s initial surprise had melted into an emotion Gingerbrave wasn’t quite familiar with.

“Nah, they were made to come off.” Gingerbrave said with a shrug before turning his attention back to feeling around the distant room. What was that? A bookshelf? Maybe he should try a few paces to the left.

The spicy cookie gave him an assessing look before turning her attention to the other two, specifically Wizard who was looking a little more harrowed than usual. “Yo, shortstack, you good?”

Gingerbrave snorted at the nickname. Oh! That felt like a chest! Maybe their stuff was in there but… it was locked. Rats. Then again, maybe the staff couldn’t fit? Probably best to be thorough.

“I’ll be fine once Gingerbrave gets my staff back.” Wizard said with a harrumph and a mutter of “I’m not short…”

“What’s the hold up? Any longer and Wizard is gonna start getting all freaky.” Strawberry asked, to which Gingerbrave huffed.

“I’m trying!! This would’ve been a lot easier if I was awake when we were brought in. Wizard, tell your stupid staff to be less stupid—!”

‘BANG!’

A screech ripped itself out of Gingerbrave when pain shot through his hand. He flung himself back from the bars, hitting the opposite wall and clutching at his stubby arm as if it would stop the pain. He heard a few exclamations of surprise from the cookies around him along with a horrified scream from down the hall followed by two more gunshots that (thankfully) missed their mark.

The sheriff was back and he just shot Gingerbrave in the hand.

His hand scuttled wildly around the office, blindly bumping into everything in an attempt to get to some kind of cover. Wild Strawberry had gotten up and put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“He shot me…!” Gingerbrave bit out between clenched teeth just as a few more shots rang out, one of them glancing the boy’s dough.

“Screw this.” The spicy cookie flung herself at the cell door and after a few moments it popped open…

Wait, what?

“You could’ve done that this whole time?!” Strawberry voiced what Gingerbrave was in too much pain to say.

“Shut up and move!” Replied the other cookie who sprung out of the cell and down the hall. Wizard was right on her heels, no doubt seeing the opportunity to get his staff and not at all caring about the actively shooting lawman. Wild Strawberry called out to him, cursed under her breath when she was ignored, then grabbed Gingerbrave and hauled him out of the cell to give chase.

They arrived just in time to watch the spicy cookie deliver a round-house kick to the sheriff’s face, sending him flying back and hitting his head on the corner of the bookshelf, knocking him out cold.

“How could a cookie that moves so slow become sheriff? Can’t believe I let myself get caught by this moron…” she tsked and checked his pockets.

“There you are!” Wizard exclaimed happily before flinging himself at his staff that was propped up in an umbrella stand for some weird reason. He scooped it up into his hands, the tension practically melted from his body as he felt the staff’s familiar magic settle once more within his dough. “That fool didn’t shoot you, did he…? No?” He sighed in relief.

Gingerbrave looked at the scene with a small frown, but held his tongue. Instead he focused on trying to find his hand. He experimentally tapped his fingers against the nearest hard surface and cringed at the pain blossoming from his fresh wounds.

Wild Strawberry Cookie got down on her knees and checked under the desk when she heard tapping, sure enough, there was Gingerbrave’s hand with a bullet wound in it. “Got it.” She pulled it out and held it up for her friend to take, who cradled it close to his chest. “I’ll get the extra icing stitches from my backpack and we can stitch everything up.”

“No time.” Wild Strawberry jumped when her backpack and lollipop were shoved into her arms by the spicy cookie. She had picked the sheriff’s pockets clean, gotten the keys to the chest in the corner, and cleaned that out too. She strapped a belt around her waste and clipped two daggers to her side. “All that ruckus is gonna have the whole town coming down on top of us. Pointy hat, if you got magic I suggest you start using it!”

“My name is Wizard–!” The small boy’s correction was cut off by the glass of the window shattering in front of him.

“GET DOWN!” She grabbed Gingerbrave and Strawberry and pulled them behind the desk. Wizard, who had been a bit further away, joined them shortly after just as a hail of bullets poured in through both windows and the open front door. “Unless you wanna have more holes than swiss cheese then I suggest you get us out of here!!”

Wizard growled, but instead of snapping at her, he focused on the vocal components of a well-practiced spell. A magic circle appeared beneath the group of cookies and in a flash they were gone. One moment they were hiding under a desk, the next they were on top of a bluff overlooking the town. The gunshots, once deafening, were nothing but an echo on the rocks at this distance.

The spicy cookie stumbled, not used to the sensation of being teleported around, caught herself, and then let out a huge ‘WOO!’

“Wow! What a day!” She exclaimed with a sigh of relief.

“Tell me about it…” Wild Strawberry muttered as she dug into her backpack and pulled out the icing stitches. “Yo, Gingerbrave, let’s get your arm back on.”

“Y-Yeah…” The other boy hissed, allowing himself to be guided over to a rock and took a seat.

“That was some nice quick-casting there, pointy hat!” The spicy cookie went to pat Wizard on the back, but paused. “Oh, right, I’m supposed to be mad at you guys…” She pondered this for a moment before shaking her head with a laugh and then patting him anyway. “Ah, but it’s hard to stay mad after such a fun jailbreak! Definitely one of my favorite ones yet!”

“Who even are you?” Wizard Cookie turned on her, giving her an absolutely baffled look as he adjusted his hat.

“And, uh, why are you mad at us?” Gingerbrave called over, trying to remain as still as possible while Strawberry worked. It wasn’t like they weren’t used to being scorned by most, if not all, of Crispia, but this strange cookie’s anger seemed rather out of left field. The spicy cookie reared back, as if offended by this line of questioning.

“You mean you guys don’t recognize me?! Seriously? And here I thought you were supposed to be big shots…” She reached into her pocket and produced a rolled up piece of paper which was quickly revealed to be a wanted poster that she unraveled with a proud flourish. “The name’s Chili Pepper Cookie and I’m the best thief in the world! There’s nothing on Earthbread I can’t steal.”

“Whoa! Look at that bounty!” Gingerbrave gasped at the sight of all the zeroes. “But… Uh… What does that have to do with being mad at us?”

“Because!” She rolled the paper back up and jabbed a finger at the trio. “Your collective bounties are higher than MINE! How am I supposed to go down in history if I’m being outclassed by a bunch of twerps?!”

Wizard Cookie sputtered indignantly at this revelation. Wild Strawberry stared at her, thoroughly unimpressed. Gingerbrave, however, burst into laughter.

“That’s what all of this was about!?” He cackled a few moments, clutching his aching gut, before settling down and saying breathily, “You’re a weird cookie. I like you!”

“If you want our bounties, you can have them! They’re what got us into trouble in the first place!” Wizard huffed.

Chili Pepper tilted her head, fixing them with a weird look. “Wait, you mean to tell me you aren’t in this for the infamy? Guess that’s why I haven’t seen you around the usual haunts rubbing your status in everyone's faces. You’re totally out of the loop!” She brightened, as if this revelation was both a massive relief and a big joke at the same time.

“Yeah we’re… not really interested in whatever weird crime competition this is.” Wild Strawberry Cookie shook her head as she finished up Gingerbrave’s stitches and stashed the spool into her bag. “If anything those bounties make reaching our goal harder…”

Chili Pepper Cookie looked at her as if she had grown a second head. “What could a group of kids like you want so badly you land bounties that put you in the criminal elite?”

“We’re going to steal the Soul Jam to free the world!” Gingerbrave proudly announced, jumping to his feet, he was already feeling a lot better now that his wounds were stitched up.

“A world without judgement!” Wizard added with a nod.

“And lawlessness…” Wild Strawberry muttered.

Chili Pepper Cookie gave the three children a thoughtful expression, putting a hand to her chin with a little ‘huh…’ before shooting a wide grin at the kids. “Well, I’m not sure about half of that, but I can definitely get behind the stealing and lawlessness parts! Are those Soul Jam things shiny?”

“They are incredibly powerful magical artifacts that have the capability of changing the world as we know it!” Wizard rattled off. When Chili Pepper gave him a blank look, he sighed and said, “And they’re shiny, yes.”

“Hey, I have an idea,” Gingerbrave cut in with a wide smile. “Chili Pepper Cookie, why don’t you come with us?” He got a mixed reaction of surprise and confusion from the cookies around him. Wizard Cookie and Wild Strawberry Cookie knew that Gingerbrave didn’t just extend offers like this to just anyone. He might have been the more chipper and outgoing of their group, but he didn’t trust others so easily. He must have really liked something Chili Pepper did or said to even think about such a proposal.

“You want me to come with you? Why?” Chili Pepper was just as confused as Gingerbrave’s friends. She couldn’t imagine them wanting her around after she gave them the silent treatment back in the jail cell.

“You seem fun.” Was Gingerbrave’s simple reply. “You helped us get out of that jail cell when you really didn’t have to. Plus, if you travel with us, I’m sure your bounty will sky rocket! And we could use the world’s greatest thief on our team!”

Chili Pepper Cookie seriously considered his proposal for a minute. When she had first heard about them and their rapid climbing of the leaderboard, she had thought they were nothing but a bunch of punk kids who wanted to be rowdy and cause trouble. Now she could see though, they had bigger plans than just topping the charts of the Underworld. She could appreciate such a large ambition.

Besides they didn’t seem to be jamthirsty monsters like all the rumors said they were. They were just… weird. The criminal underworld had plenty of downright monstrous folks who Chili Pepper tried not to associate with, but she could tell, these kids didn’t seem heartless. Mischievous, yes. Troubled? Absolutely. But not heartless.

“You know what?” Chili Pepper grinned. “I’ll think about it. But for right now, I got a job I need to finish.”

“A job?” Wild Strawberry asked just as Chili Pepper turned to walk towards the cliff that overlooked the town.

“Yeah? Do you think the greatest thief in the world would screw up and get arrested in a nothing town like this?” She gestured to the settlement below. “I let myself get caught! The train they were gonna put us on has a massive safe full of gems. I was gonna bust out of my cuffs mid-transfer and clean it out! But now I guess I gotta do it the good old fashioned way…”

Gingerbrave once again laughed, giving Chili Pepper a sharp grin. “Well, if you decide you wanna join up, head to the Bear Jelly Village in the Land of Little Big Dreams! There’s a cookie there who’ll point you in the right direction.” With that he raised a hand in farewell. “Good luck, Chili Pepper Cookie!”

Chili Pepper gave the kids a mock salute. “See you around, stitches! Make sure you stay out of any more jail cells, punks!” With that she jumped over the side as nimble as an acrobat, and out of sight.

“Well, that was certainly… interesting.” Wizard sighed, before clutching his stomach. “But we failed to get any supplies, and teleporting us this far has made me famished…”

“Right… I forgot about that…” Gingerbrave’s brow furrowed. Should they try heading back into town and risking getting arrested again? Did they push forward and hoped they reach the next town before they starved? He didn’t really know much about hunting or foraging, but he doubted they’d be able to sustain themselves with much in this sugar-free wasteland.

“Hey, look!” Wild Strawberry pointed further up the main road where the kids could see a huge cloud of dust being kicked up. “I think that’s a caravan.”

All three kids stared at it for a long moment.

“Welp!” Gingerbrave clapped his hands together. “Fellas, it’s time to commit robbery!”

“YEAH!!” Strawberry and Wizard raised their respective weapons into the air, excited at the prospect of getting some food in their stomachs. With that, the trio ran off to intercept those travelers.

From the bottom of the cliff, Chili Pepper watched the kids disappear. She lingered for a moment, deep in thought…

‘CHOO CHOOOOOOO!’

The thief turned on her heel and raced towards the tracks. Their paths would cross again someday, but for now, she has a train to catch.

[altruistichellhound]

Beastars Boyfriend Head cannons!

I’ll be doing a separate post for the shishigumi. Let me know if you want anyone added to this.

I made this as non specific and gender neutral as I could. I wanted everyone to read this and imagine themselves as whatever person/animal you see yourself as.

Legoshi

Legoshi cannot control his tail around you. Smile at him? furious wagging. Laugh in the sweetest of ways? furious wagging. Kiss him? He’s taken off like a helicopter with how fast his tail is going.

Absolutely loves being close to you! Cannot get enough of your scent, breathes it in more than the air around him.

Territorial of you, anyone looks at you and he’s pissed. Not that you can tell, or anyone else really. Isn’t outright jealous/confrontational unless you are out right disrespected. Absolutely not afraid of getting in fights for you.

When Legoshi is comfortable he will go on and on about his interests. He is so incredibly smart, especially when it comes to bugs. At this point you’re pretty much an entomologists.

Teaches you about the way of the sea and some of the seas language. (You’ll probably be pronouncing it wrong the same as him..)

At the beginning of your relationship he found it hard to communicate his feelings, now he fully able to express his wants and needs. It works very well for the both of you as he is an incredible listener.

Very oblivious…

Loves taking you on dates, especially private ones like picnics and star gazing.

You>Anything else

Louie

If you don’t come from a deer family of high value you’ll be his secret.

He might not show it with words but lord does this man love you.

Endless, and I really mean endless gifts. You offhandedly mention something you like? Oh what’s this, he bought it for you! He’s out and he sees something that reminds him of you, bought it. “Oh that’s cute!” Boom he bought it.

Secretly likes it when you give him massages. Poor man is so stressed out he needs that extra care. He wants a quiet life with you. One where he can be the beastar but come home to your little cozy home where it’s soft and quiet.

Knows you guys simply cannot exist together but pretends like it’s not reality…

Openly jealous, “I don’t like him”. Tells you when he thinks someone has bad intentions. Tries his best to protect you but sometimes it’s slightly misguided.

Acts like he needs to be the dominant one in the relationship but really likes it when you take control.

A balance of all out luxury dinners and simple little cafes you two like to frequent.

If it comes to it he would give up everything, including his relationship with his father; for you.

Gohin

Works out in front of you totally not on purpose. Flexes his muscles when you just happen to be looking at him.

Gohin is such a tease! Doesn’t matter what it is he’ll make fun of you for it. If you don’t like it he’ll tell you it was just a joke but he takes it very seriously and makes sure not to tease you like that again.

Tries his best to keep you away from his work. If you want to help he will tell you no until you persist so much he caves. While he loves you he cares about your safety more, so much training. He will run you until you colapse; he would never forgive himself if something happened to you.

Tea after training/work. He enjoys making you two a drink then sitting and talking about your day between sips.

Even if it doesn’t feel like it I promise you he listens. If he is busy or stressed he will respond with simple, hmm and mhms. However, he heard everyone word and won’t forget what you’ve told him.

At first he’s an awkward kisser, but he’s a quick learner and you’ve never had a better kisser in your life.

You remain the light of his life.

Bill

Childish. Not necessarily a bad thing but sometimes you want to beat him with a stick.

PDA to the max, you’re his and he’s yours. Why shouldn’t the people know? Hold his hand and steal quick kisses please.

Not the best at planning things but he’ll try his best. His goal is to make you happy and have something that will last.

Doesn’t really think about a serious future that much. Not that he doesn’t want to be with you, just that he hasn’t planned ahead enough to really put thought into marriage and a possible family.

This man makes you late to almost everything. Unless it’s the club, he is not on time.

You basically aren’t ever not laughing. He loves to see you smile and squirm around while you laugh so hard your stomach starts to hurt. Surprisingly his jokes are actually funny and land quite well.

All his friends know you very well, all he does is brag about how amazing and hot you are.

Jack

The sweetest man to have ever existed.

Had a crush on you for thee longest time before he either got the courage to talk to you or you finally went up to him.

Wants you to be happy, in his mind he can never do enough for you. He doesn’t want you to be happy, he needs it. If you are sad or angry he tries his darnedest to make cheer you up in a way that suits you the best. Listening, taking you out, leaving you alone, really whatever you need he will give.

Snores. Not loud though, sweet little snores and huffs throughout the night. At this point you can’t sleep without hearing him.

Always smells weirdly good. Like it’s unnatural how he always smells the same and it’s never bad. He could sprint three miles and still smell insanely good. When asked about it he just shrugs.

Constantly blushing! He can’t help it around you, doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together.

Collot

You trim his bangs. He lets you but in all honestly doesn’t trust you after you cut them way too short last time. He won’t tell you that though.

Suspiciously calm, makes him a good listener but sometimes it’s frustrating when he doesn’t get mad with you.

Speaking of anger he hasn’t really gotten mad with you. Maybe a few spats here and there but he has never once raised his voice at you.

Worst sleeper in the world! Moved, kicks, loud sleeper, talks. How did he kick you in the face? You don’t know and neither does he. Scares the crap out of you, “He’s coming.” You proceed to violently shake him until he wakes up and reassures you back to sleep.

Really likes playing video games with you or just doing things quietly next to each other.

Riz

Tries his very best to control himself around you after what happened. Really doesn’t matter to him what species you are he’s constantly afraid of hurting you. Cannot let go of you even if he’s afraid.

You on the other hand aren’t afraid of him. He told you what happened and you understood him. He would never hurt you, or so you think.

Protective as hell. Does not matter who it is no one will ever get to you.

Practically worships you. Would kiss the ground you walk on if he could. Lives to serve you, you want something it’s already been done.

Constant cuddles, he always wants to be the big spoon unless he’s sad. Being around you makes him feel powerful knowing in that moment you are untouchable. When you hold him he feels vulnerable, he hasn’t decided if he’s okay with that feeling yet but he knows that it feels good to be the one being protected for once.

Really likes cooking with you and for you.

Pina

Best way to describe him is annoying, but in the best way possible.

Can, and will, talk your ears off. Constantly yapping about something and expects you to listen. He’s offended if you ask him to give you even a second of silence.

Really loves it when you touch his horns.

Best lashes in the room, better than you and he will constantly brag about this. He tells you he’s joking (he’s not).

He’s just a little bit of a freak, “Eat me.” Doesn’t matter if you’re a carnivore or not. “What the hell Pina?” You can’t tell if he’s being serious…

He knows absolutely everything about you. Some things you didn’t even know about yourself! Not only does he know you but he knows everyone else. Tells you all the best gossip and keeps you up to date with rumors even if you don’t care.

Definitely needs someone to keep up with him.

Melon

Crazy but that’s okay!

Would kill someone if you asked him to. Neighbor pissed you off? Gone. Boss is being a dick? Gone. You tend to abuse this fact.

Okay he does not know how to express his love for you. He’s not even sure if what he’s feeling his love. He knows he oddly doesn’t want to hurt you but is that love? Who knows he’s just going with it.

This relationship is pretty much the definition of playing with fire.

You get to see such a different side to him, quiet and maybe even a little soft. Sad maybe? Is it an act? You don’t know but you’ve decided it’s okay not knowing you. Even when you have that nagging feeling that you should care.

Potentially likes you so much because you are very similar to him.

Won’t ever tell you or anyone this but he likes it when you hold him. He also enjoys that you aren’t afraid of his fangs. Will bite you if you let him.

Would both love and hate you even more if you were a hybrid.

Gosha

Biggest softy with you. Would do absolutely anything for you, to him, you are nothing less than the universe.

Thinks you are the most wonderful thing to have ever graced this world. He loves to show you it too. Random gifts, always brings you fresh flowers before your last ones die.

Evening walks are the best with him. As the sun turns the clouds orange and pink he’ll tell you about his adventures as a youth and his previous dreams of becoming the beastar.

The best support you’ll ever have. He whole heartedly believes that you can do anything you set your heart to. Encouraging your passions and making sure whatever you need to meet your goals is there for you to use.

You’ve never felt so safe than right by his side, and rightfully so. No one would even think to mess with you with him around.

Everyone knows you too are together, he’s made sure of that the way he runs around bragging about you.

Yahya

Tries his best to keep you and work separate. This is not only for your safety for also for him. He never expected or wanted a relationship because of his goals but when he saw you he just couldn’t let you go.

Manages balancing you and protecting the world pretty well. Though, he is in fact just a man like everyone else.

Missed dinners often which turns into arguments which ends in mutual apologies and making up.

He is so tired. Needs you to rub his shoulders and lightly scratch his back.

Can’t really sleep but if you tell him stories or hum softly while playing with his mane he knocks right out.

Keeps you out of the public eye because he knows that if he didn’t you’d have a target on your back. Constant security watching you from afar.

Makes sure to provide a good life for you first and foremost, but also is very focused on changing the world. It is a relationship based on understanding on both ends. Compromises have been made.

You are the closest thing to his heart and constantly on his mind.

[ninesbey0nd]

My Dearest Friend College AU! Caleb x Reader

SYNOPSIS. When you committed to your university, you never expected to reunite with your childhood best friend, Caleb. When your mom urges you to help him move in, your friendship seems to take a turn.

PAIRING. Aerospace Engineering Major! Caleb x Graphic Design Major! Reader (afab/fem reader)

GENRE. friends to lovers, childhood friends, mutual pining, eventual smut, possessive! Caleb, Dom! Caleb

WARNINGS. Profanity, Alcohol Consumption, NSFW, unprotected sex (wrap ya willy!), penetrative sex, fingering, oral (receiving), Breeding Kink, Obsessive themes WORD COUNT. 7.4k

PART 1 - PART 2 - ?

if you wanna be added to my tag list lmk! :) <3

(I've returned with an obsession for LADS LMAO enjoy <3)

“That’s the last one,” Caleb mumbled, kicking his heel out to prop his dorm door open for you. You nodded curtly at his gesture, holding your breath while you carried in the last box of his belongings. You let out a soft pant, setting down the heavy bin of God knows what.

“It’s no problem! Really,” you insisted, your gaze shifting up to meet his soft lavender eyes.

🍎

The day before your mother had pulled you aside after dinner, scolding you for being a bad friend and not keeping in touch with Caleb.

“I mean, how do you not realize the boy you’ve grown up with is attending the same college as you?” She chided, aggressively scrubbing the dishes that had piled up in your kitchen sink.

“I don’t know, Mom,” you groaned, propping yourself up against the kitchen counter. “Don’t get me wrong, Caleb and I are friendly with one another, but I guess the topic of college never came up?” You cringed your shoulders. Sure, you and Caleb exchanged a few pleasantries here and there, but there was never too much the two of you had to talk about; not like there was any unsettled business or sour feelings.

“Well, you're lucky his mother and I keep in frequent contact hm?” Your mom hummed, the ceramic clinking of plates filling the air as she shut the now-filled dishwasher. “You should help him move into the dorms tomorrow, his poor mother has knee problems and you’re young and spry.”

You slumped over, your shoulders hanging heavy in the air. The last thing you wanted to do was wake up early and be on campus before school even started, but your mom seemed pretty insistent that you help the poor boy and spare his mother’s aching joints.

“Okay, okay. I’ll find my way over there and see what I can do, alright?” You let out a sigh as your mom shoots you a grateful smile.

🍎

“So,” you feign a cough to break the silence. “Did you want help unpacking?” You found yourself leaning against the bare metal bed frame, scanning the room around you. Somehow, this man had managed to score a single – and a pretty spacious one at that. Although the room was bare now, knowing Caleb it’d probably be properly unpacked and prim in a few hours.

“You don’t have to do all that, pipsqueak. I can handle it,” He assured with a smile, his eyes crinkled into small half-mooned crescents. He was knelt down beside a bin, popping the lid open and beginning the search for his packed bedding. He stood up with a simple gray sheet in his hand, turning toward your direction.

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind helping,” you reached a hand outward, grabbing onto the sheet and beginning to spread it along the expanse of the oh-so-small twin bed. Neatly tucking the sheet beneath the corner of the mattress, you snuck a glance at Caleb. You could tell he was a bit surprised at your forwardness but nonetheless appreciated it and followed suit in your movements.

The two of you spent the next few hours unpacking and organizing his dorm – from making the bed to helping him hang his clothes.

“Wait (Y/N), don’t open that one –” too late. Your hands had already opened the box and there they were: neatly stacked and folded and in all of their glory were several pairs of boxers. Ranging from plain colors to some mixed plaids and finally on top – a pair of them with little apples scattered across the fabric.

“Oh,” was all you could muster out. You shut the lid promptly, scooting it out of the way and going to grab a different one. You peeked at him through your lashes. A hand covered half his face, and his eyes were screwed shut, a light pink color flushed against his cheeks.

“I’ll have to go through that one later,” He mused, his hand moving to rest against the back of his neck. The rest of the unpacking, much to your surprise, went smoothly. By the time you finished, his room looked as if he’d lived there the whole time.

“Thank you, (Y/N), really, I don’t think I would’ve been able to move in so quickly without your help,” he rested his weight against the edge of his now-made bed. “Can I maybe treat you to dinner?” His lips drew themselves into a thin line, his eyes meeting yours – almost as if praying to the universe that you’d accept his offer. You blinked, unsure if you had heard him right.

“Dinner?” you repeated, trying—and failing—to mask the surprise in your voice. Your gaze dropped to his hands, which were absentmindedly fiddling with a corner of the bed sheet you'd just tucked in. Caleb had always been polite, maybe even a little old-school in how he treated people. But this felt like... something else. It didn’t feel the same as that once-innocent younger boy you grew up with.

“If you want,” he clarified quickly at the end of his statement, brushing imaginary lint off his jeans and avoiding eye contact. “I just thought it’d be nice since you helped me out, and I haven’t really had a chance to thank you properly or catch up with you. There’s this little sushi place down on Main Street—I heard it’s good?”

Your lips curled slightly into a smile. “You remembered I like sushi?”

Caleb looked up at you then, the corner of his mouth twitching. “(Y/N), you used to talk about getting sushi and miso soup all the time. That’s not something I could easily forget.”

The tension cracked a bit between you both, just enough for you to exhale a laugh. “Fine, I’ll let you treat me.”

“Done.”

🍎

Main Street was just starting to buzz with the early evening crowd when the two of you made it there. The walk from campus was short but filled with odd spurts of conversation—mostly about upcoming classes, shared childhood memories, and how you’d managed to not know you were going to the same university until your mothers brought it up.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t know,” Caleb said, nudging your elbow as you stepped into the cozy restaurant. “I mean, we literally follow each other on Instagram.”

You gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah, and you only post pictures of planes and clouds. Not exactly a location update.”

He chuckled, brushing a hand through his thick layered hair.

“Fair enough.”

After many sushi rolls were consumed, something shifted. Maybe it was the home-y comfort food or the nostalgic laughter, but you started to feel less like acquaintances and more like... (Y/N) and Caleb again. The way you’d been before high school and moving vans and awkward teenage silences.

“So, graphic design, huh?” Caleb asked as he leaned back in his seat. “That tracks. You used to doodle all over your homework.”

You shrugged, twirling a straw in your drink. “Yeah, well... what can I say. I have a passion for creating, I love the nature of art.”

He grinned. “I think it suits you. You’ve always had an eye for stuff like that. Colors, symmetry.”

“And you?” you raised a brow. “Aerospace engineering? Trying to fly away from all your responsibilities?”

“Obviously,” he deadpanned. “But mostly, I just want to build something that ends up out there.” He motioned toward the sky, as if you could see the stars from the restaurant booth. “It’s... grounding, in a weird way.”

The table fell quiet for a moment. You were watching him now, not just the boy you used to ride bikes with, but the person he’d become. Grounded and lofty all at once.

🍎

The weeks that followed passed in a blur of syllabi, campus events, and more run-ins with Caleb than you could count. Which was odd, considering he practically made a home for himself in the campus library.

He texted you after class the next day. [CALEB]: Can I borrow your notes from Design Theory? I think I slept through half of it with my eyes open.

You replied with a smirking emoji and a PDF of your notes.

[(Y/N)]: don’t thank me too much :p

Later that week, you knocked lightly on his dorm door, a physics textbook hugged to your chest. “I know this is your thing sooo,” you said, wincing slightly as you walked through his doorway. “If I have to look at one more vector diagram without understanding it, I might combust.”

“Come in,” he grinned, stepping aside. “Let’s trade. Physics help for some sketching practice and coaching?”

Before long, helping each other became second nature—him hunched over your Laptop, poking at your Illustrator file, while you scribbled equations on a whiteboard in his room. You teased him for his weirdly good eye for visual hierarchy; he claimed your physics doodles were actually better than some of the diagrams in his textbook.

And somewhere in the midst of study sessions and late-night diner runs, you realized you didn’t dread waking up for early campus mornings anymore. Especially if they meant seeing Caleb—your not-so-new, not-so-distant friend.

🍎

The hum of the fluorescent lights in the academic building were steady, almost comforting as you sat hunched over a large spread of design theory notes. You’d tucked yourself into one of the small study pods, surrounded by empty tables and soft chatter from other students who passed by in a hurry.

The walls were lined with modern art—colorful abstract pieces and intricate geometric designs—and, despite the chill in the air, the room had a familiar warmth to it. It was a place where you could focus. A place where you could get lost in your work and forget the looming deadlines of projects and exams.

But even in this quiet corner, you found it hard to concentrate. Your mind kept drifting back to the conversation you’d had with Caleb the night before. He’d called to ask for a quick study session for his upcoming art examination, which had caught you a bit off guard. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a hard worker, but you hadn’t expected him to reach out for something like that.

Your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. You glanced down at the screen, half-expecting a random notification, but no—there it was. A text from Caleb.

[CALEB]: Be there in 5. Save me a seat :)

A soft smile pulled at the corner of your lips, and you quickly rearranged your things to make room for him. It was almost second nature how he could slide back into your life without much effort at all.

🍎

Five minutes passed, then ten. You were just beginning to wonder if maybe something had come up when you finally saw him.

Caleb’s unmistakable figure appeared at the entrance, his tall frame easily cutting through the crowd of students. As he stepped into the study space, his eyes scanned the room, and then, as if he had a built-in radar for where you were sitting, they found yours.

He smiled that familiar little smile, the one that always made you feel like you were home. He began walking toward you, his steps light, but just as he was about to reach the table, a girl approached him.

She was holding a stack of papers, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Her eyes were wide, too wide, almost as if she had been waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Caleb stopped in his tracks, his hand still halfway to his back pocket.

“Hey,” the girl said, flashing a bright, slightly nervous smile. “Are you Caleb? I’m in your thermodynamics class, and—um, I was wondering if you could maybe give me your number? I’m trying to form a study group and... I thought it’d be great to have you be a part of it – I mean, you’re like the smartest guy in class.”

You watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow. Caleb was silent for a moment, his posture stiffening slightly as if he wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. But when his gaze flickered back toward you, the tension in his shoulders eased, and his lips curled into a soft, almost apologetic smile toward the girl.

“Sorry,” Caleb said, his tone polite but firm. “I don’t think I’m the best person to study with right now. I’m actually going to study with my girlfriend right now.”

The girl seemed momentarily taken aback but didn’t push further. She forced a smile, awkwardly nodded, and then turned on her heel, leaving Caleb free to make his way over to you.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped as he finally sat down across from you, his expression a mixture of bemusement and relief.

“Girlfriend, huh?” you teased, folding your arms over your chest.

He grinned, shaking his head as he unpacked his own materials. “I figured it was a pretty good excuse to get out of whatever she was trying to rope me into,” he admitted with a small smile.

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh, and what’s wrong with her wanting your number?”

Caleb shot you a sheepish glance. “Well, I’m just not interested in giving my number to people who ask.”

Your gaze softened, and you met his eyes. For a moment, there was a quiet understanding between you two. Caleb had always been popular amongst his peers, or so you heard from your mother. He never had a girlfriend, though, ever. could tell it wasn’t just about the number. It was about his priorities—about what mattered to him right now.

“Alright,” you said, tapping your pencil on the table. “So... about that study session?”

He nodded, settling into his chair and pulling out a notebook from his bag. “Right. I’m actually kind of freaking out about this art exam. I know it’s not physics or anything, but I just... I don’t know. I guess I haven’t done a ton of art since high school, and now it feels like I’m starting from scratch.”

You tilted your head, considering his words. “You’ve always had an eye for it, Caleb. You’ve just... gotta remember how to channel it. Let me see what you’ve got so far.”

He hesitated for a second but then slid his sketchbook over to you. The pages were filled with rough sketches—abstract patterns, geometric designs, and some minimalist ideas that had potential. As you flipped through, you could tell there was talent there, but it needed focus. Toward the last page, however, you lingered. There had been a few rough sketches scattered across the parchment of…. Your face?

Caleb cleared his throat, reaching a hand over the page and quickly snatching the book out of your grasp. When you looked up at him, he shot you a sheepish grin, tucking the book away.

“Okay,” you rolled your eyes, jotting down a few notes in your own notebook. “Let’s start with these basic shapes. You’ve got the right idea, but you need to play with the proportions and scale a bit more. Add some layers. Make it breathe.”

Caleb nodded, leaning forward as you helped walk him through how to refine his sketches. The two of you got into a rhythm, bouncing ideas back and forth, and by the time the sun was beginning to set, you’d worked through most of the exam material.

As you closed the last notebook, Caleb sat back and stretched. “Thanks, (Y/N),” he said, his voice a little more relaxed. “I think I actually feel ready for this now. Seriously, I don’t think I would’ve been able to do this without your help.”

You smiled at him, but before you could respond, Caleb’s tone shifted slightly. He glanced at his watch and then at you, his eyes brightening.

“So, I know we’ve been working hard... but how about a little reward?” he said, his voice low enough to almost sound like a secret. “How about you come over to my place tonight? I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” You asked, intrigued but also cautious. “What kind of surprise?”

“Trust me,” Caleb said with a mischievous grin, “I’m sure you’ll like where it’s going.”

You raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help feeling curious. “Alright, I’m intrigued. I’ll meet you there after dinner.”

Caleb smiled and gave you a nod. “It’s a deal. Later, pipsqueak.”

As he packed up his things and left, you found yourself trying to push away the small flutter in your stomach. A surprise? What could it be?

But whatever it was, you knew Caleb wouldn’t let you down.

🍎

“Caleb?” Your knuckles rapped against his dorm door, awaiting his presence. A muffled voice interrupts your train of thought.

“Coming, coming.” You hear a few sounds of rustling before footsteps, and an open door greets you. “You’re early, pipsqueak.” His hand reaches up to ruffle your hair, soon after traveling down to your lower back, where he ushers you inside his room.

“I couldn’t keep my best friend waiting, could I?” You found yourself kicking off your shoes, hopping onto his made bed, and propping yourself up amongst his pillows.

Caleb shut the door behind you, giving you a look you couldn’t quite read—something between amused and nervous.

“So…” you began, stretching your legs across his mattress, “what’s this big surprise? You’re not secretly making me tutor you for another hour, are you?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, no physics tonight. I swear.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Then what?”

He walked over to his desk, where a neatly folded outfit—a casual button-down and his nicer jeans—lay waiting. “We’re going out.”

You blinked. “Out? Like... out out?”

“To the frat party,” he said, shooting you a grin. “It’s supposed to be huge tonight. And,” he added quickly, “I figured you deserved a night off for basically saving my academic life.”

You stared at him, momentarily stunned. “You want to go to a frat party?”

“Okay, I know, I’m not exactly the party guy,” Caleb admitted with a smirk. “But hey—first semester of college, right? Why not make a few fun memories?”

You narrowed your eyes at him but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “You better not make me regret this.”

Caleb raised his hand in mock solemnity. “I would never.”

🍎

The Delt party was exactly what you expected—loud, chaotic, pulsing with music, and crowded with students dressed just a little too nicely for a night of spilled drinks and uncoordinated dancing. The backyard was strung with fairy lights, a small fire crackling in the distance, the scent of cheap beer and woodsmoke clinging to the air.

You stuck close to Caleb’s side as you navigated through the crowd. He handed you a drink, his fingers brushing yours for a split second longer than necessary. You tried not to read too much into it.

“Alright,” he said over the music, raising his cup. “To passing art exams and not dying in physics.”

You clinked your cup to his. “I’ll drink to that.”

As the night wore on, Caleb grew a little... different. Not bad—just looser. His words started to slur slightly, and his usual guarded posture gave way to easier smiles and more frequent touches. A hand on your shoulder here, a lingering glance there.

“You know, (Y/N),” he said, leaning in close as you both sat near the fire, the flickering light dancing in his eyes. “You’re kind of amazing.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden sincerity in his tone. “You’re drunk.”

He laughed, nudging you with his shoulder. “A little. But I still mean it.”

You looked at him, unsure how to respond. You’d never seen Caleb like this before—unguarded, open. A little vulnerable.

“You’ve always been this... bright thing in my life, (Y/N). Even when we weren’t talking much in high school. I always remembered stuff about you. Like how you hate pencils that are too sharp. Or how you hum when you draw, even if you don’t realize it. I noticed.”

You stared at him, lips slightly parted.

“I didn’t forget you,” he continued, voice quieter now, eyes fully on you. “Not once. Not ever. You never left my mind.”

The world around you blurred—the music, the laughter, the distant cheer of someone winning a drinking game—and all you could hear was your heartbeat and Caleb’s words.

“Caleb I –,” You shook your head in disbelief. “You’re drunk, we should get you back to your room.” Your hand latched onto his wrist, attempting to flee the scene of the party but his arm pulled taught; he didn’t budge.

“Caleb? Come on,” You yanked against his arm again, only to be tugged inward toward his chest. His movement was sloppy, tucking his arm to his side to bring you back in his vicinity.

“I’m being serious (Y/N),” he leaned down over you, his breath tickling your face; he reeked of alcohol.

You could feel your pulse flutter in your throat. The smell of cheap beer clung to him, the flush in his cheeks stark under the dim party lights. This wasn’t the version of him you were used to—the composed, quiet Caleb from your childhood. This one was raw, unfiltered, and very, very honest.

But drunk. Way too drunk.

“You’re not thinking straight,” you whispered, pushing gently against his chest. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

He didn’t fight it this time. Just let you guide him out the door, his body swaying as he leaned into you more than necessary, like your presence alone was grounding him. A couple of times, you felt his chin bump into the back of your head. He had been leaning over you, drinking in your scent as you walked him back to his dorm.

The cold night air hit hard, sobering your thoughts if not his. You kept a firm grip on his wrist as you led him across campus, trying not to focus on how his fingers crept up and subtly intertwined with yours.

By the time you reached his dorm, Caleb was quiet—too quiet. You helped him fumble with the keycard and finally shoved his dorm door open.

“Sit down,” you instructed, guiding him to the bed. “I’ll get you water.”

But the moment you turned toward the tiny dorm fridge, a hand reached out and caught your forearm.

“Why do you think I’m lying?” his words were slower now, but clear. “Why does everyone think drunk people can’t tell the truth?”

You met his gaze over your shoulder. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, one elbow on his knee, head tilted up to look at you with those sharp lilac eyes.

“It’s not about lying, Caleb,” you said softly. “It’s just… this might not be something you feel tomorrow. And I don’t want to be a mistake you regret.”

He stood then, slowly, like he was trying to keep his balance in more ways than one. “You think I wouldn’t remember wanting you?”

Your breath caught.

He gently pulled you closer to where he sat, carefully, almost reverently. His hand released your arm and crept up toward your face, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve wanted you since high school, (Y/N). Ever since we met and bonded over that stupid Pokémon game.”

You tried to laugh. Failed. Your heart caught in your throat.

“Caleb…”

“I’m not trying to push you,” he said, though the way his hand lingered against your cheek made it hard to believe – his thumb swiping gentle strokes across your skin. “But if I don’t do this now, I’m scared I’ll never do it.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours.

It was soft, surprisingly gentle. A question, not a demand.

His mouth tasted of that sour alcohol aftertaste and desperation, but there was something else under it: warmth, sincerity.

It would’ve been easy to give in.

But you pulled back, your heart practically pounding out of your ribcage. “Caleb, you’re drunk,” you reminded him, more to yourself than him.

His forehead leaned against yours. “I know,” he whispered. “But I’m not wrong. And I’m not a liar.”

You stood there in the quiet hum of the dorm room, the distance between you barely inches, your brain mush.

“Please, (Y/N)?” His head still tilted upward to meet your gaze, his eyes pleading; full of desperation and raw need.

“Caleb I –,” you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed for just a moment of frustration. “You’re drunk – like what if you don’t actually want this? What if you regret something?”

He cut you off, gently taking your chin between his fingers and tilting your face back to his. “(Y/N),” he paused, a beat passed as his eyes bore into yours. “If you would just believe me, and allow me, I could be fucking you on this bed right now.” His voice was low and rough with desire, his gaze never once leaving yours as he spoke.

“And if you think this is just a drunk man talking, then fuck,” He reached his other arm out to cup both your cheeks, leaning up toward you to get impossibly closer. “Id fuck you ten times harder tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day after that.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his lips grazing yours for just a second.

You swallowed hard, bottom lip twitching as you held yourself back from the urge to leap into his grasp right then and there. “Caleb,” you sighed into his grasp, your hand brushing against the back of his. You could feel your resolve practically crumbling at his gestures and sweet words. Maybe, he really did mean it?

“Are you positive?” You pulled away, your eyes pierced him with a sudden seriousness as if there was a shift in the atmosphere.

“(Y/N),” His eyes searched your face for your expression, his breathing stalled for a moment before he took a deep breath in. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.” Before you could get your bearings, he sat up straighter, leaning up and crashing his lips against yours. His lips were soft and plush, gently molding along yours with tenderness. Behind the sweet kiss, however, was a hunger in the way his hands slowly raked down your body. From your face, down to tracing over your shoulders and finally where his hands found purchase at the top of your hips. His fingers dug into your skin greedily, pulling you closer and between his legs that hung off the twin bed. You felt his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, his teeth sinking into your skin. You blinked in surprise, eyes quickly screwing shut and melding into his touch. Your lips parted, allowing him to slip past your teeth and into your mouth. His tongue swirled along yours and you felt him melt, a soft groan escaping from him as he furthered his motions. You inevitably pulled away to take in a breath, a thin string of saliva connecting the two of you. His hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you firmly onto his lap - your legs straddled his hips. He exhaled sharply, pulling you down harder against him. You could practically feel his hardening length growing - pressing against your inner thigh.

“Caleb-” Your statement was cut short, feeling his hands slide up from your hips, his finger tips inching under the hem of your shirt until his hands lay flush against your skin. His eyes trailed up your body, eventually settling on yours steadily as his fingers crept higher and higher. He held the stare, his eyes filled with longing; with absolute need. 

“Please,” Caleb’s voice sounded shaky, his breathing turned ragged. His fingers stopped just beneath the wire of your bra, tracing along the curve of your breast. “Can I?” He spoke softly, almost as if you’d shatter if he raised his voice any louder. His hand had wrapped around your back, the tips of his fingers running along the clasp of the undergarment. 

When you gave him a silent nod of understanding, he wasted no time pinching at the metal clasps, unhooking each one skillfully. The piece of clothing slumped off your shoulders, settling loosely at the bottom of your waist. His hands drifted down your spine, his fingers fiddling with the back of your shirt. His thumbs hooked under your garment, beginning to push the fabric up and over your head. Once your shirt was completely off, he wasted no time tossing it somewhere across his room without a second thought. His gaze darkened, drinking in the sight of your bare chest. His eyes dragged across your skin, to your lips, back to your half-lidded eyes. 

“You’re beautiful, (Y/N).” He breathed, a hand cradling the side of your face and pulling you into another kiss. Unlike the first time, this felt different. His lips were hungry; biting and sucking at your lips as if trying to consume you on the spot. As he cradled your face close, his other hand had crept up from your hips, cupping your breast between his fingers. His index finger met his thumb, pinching and rolling your now hardened nipple. You let out a gasp, mouth slightly agape as he continued his ministrations. His lips eventually left yours, moving along your jawline and sucking softly on the skin just below your ear. He hummed against your skin, the soft peppering of kisses turned to more aggressive and needy biting, surely leaving marks of pleasure in his wake. You felt yourself turn to putty in his hands, your eyes fluttering shut. 

He seemed to be growing impatient, a guttural groan escaping his throat. His hands left you for a moment, before suddenly gripping your thighs that hugged him. You opened your mouth to comment, and found yourself mid-air before being set back down onto his mattress. 

“What are you-?” You felt Caleb shove you down onto the expanse of his bed, your back falling into the plush of his blankets. He crawled between your legs, his fingers dragging down your navel to the band of your pants. “Shut up and just… let me,” He mumbled, his hands tugging down the fabric of your bottoms hastily. He gripped your thighs roughly, spreading them as he bent himself forward, nestling his face between your legs. “I need you, (Y/N). Right fucking now.” He breathed, his breath fanning over your inner thighs. He pressed kisses along your thigh and over your clothed core, hovering just a moment longer over the wet spot that had begun to grow on your panties. You could feel him take a deep breath before his fingers hooked into the sides of the flimsy fabric, tearing it down your thighs roughly. 

“Fuck Caleb,” you exhaled, looking down at the boy nuzzled up between your now naked bottom half. His jaw was tight as he looked back up at you through his dark lashes, his hands spreading your thighs wider. He repositioned himself slightly, a visible tent in his pants making it quite obvious of his desire. He realized he had never seen you in such a position before - so vulnerable, bare, delicate. He, of course, had imagined this scenario countless times in his head but the reality of the situation was so much sweeter than he could’ve ever dreamt of. 

“(Y/N),” he breathed, inching his face closer to your arousal. His fingers danced closer to your inner thighs, tracing small patterns along the sensitive skin. “Are you…” The pad of his thumb brushed against your wet folds for just a brief moment, making you shiver. “Are you absolutely sure you want this? ‘Cause once I start,” he paused, his voice dropping into a low and husky tone. “Once I taste you, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself.” 

You shuddered at his words, the growing need between your thighs growing hotter with each passing moment. “Caleb, I need you.” You reached down to tangle your fingers into Caleb’s head of hair. Your words edged him on, and you felt as if a switch had flicked on inside his mind. He leaned forward without another word, pressing a soft kiss to your center before opening you up with his thumbs. He dragged his tongue up your folds, a groan eliciting out of him and rumbling against you. His tongue flicked up and down before pulling away briefly to take a breath.

“Fuck (Y/N)…” He drawled, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip and lapping up any juices that had remained on his mouth. You looked down briefly, your eyes meeting his for a second. “You taste divine,” he mumbled before diving back between your legs, his tongue beginning a reckless assault on your core. You twitched, feeling his tongue swipe over your most intimate parts. You let out a strained gasp when you felt him tease a finger over your hole. He hummed in response - you could feel his lips curve into a smile as they vibrated against your delicate skin. He pressed the pad of his index finger to your clit, rubbing small circles to the sensitive bud. “Look at my pretty girl, so wet.” He muses before dipping his finger down and into your sopping cunt. His finger pumps in and out of you with precision, as if he had known exactly what your body needed. 

“Caleb,” you let out a muffled cry, feeling yourself clench around his single digit. His lips press kisses to your pussy before his tongue finds itself attached to your clit - his lips engulfing you whole as lewd sounds of slurping filled his dorm room. 

“I love it when you say my name, baby. Say it again.” You could barely understand the sentence that left his mouth, his lips too focused on tasting you. His one hand gripped onto your thigh tightly, his nails digging into your skin, surely to leave crescent indents. His dominant hand, however, was ever so busy curling his finger into you. You felt him nudge a second finger toward your entrance, quickly adding it between pumps. He scissored and stretched out your hole, his tongue gliding down to kitten lick your walls. When he pushed his fat, wet muscle into you, you swore you could see stars. 

“Fuck Caleb-,” you swore silently. His ever-so-soft tongue slid in and out with ease, pushing itself along your insides and feasting upon you as if you were his last meal. He loved how responsive you were to his touch: he could feel every little twitch, every shiver, every moan you fought to hold back. He spread you wider with his fingers, trying to shove his tongue impossibly deeper into you. 

“You’re so sensitive, baby. You’re doing so good for me.” He said between long licks, his breath tickling your lower half as he spoke. 

Your face felt hot. As if you were drunk on the sight of Caleb. How perfectly he seemed to know your body, how well he took care of you. You would be lying to yourself if you said you’d never imagined having sex with Caleb before, but never did you imagine he would feel this good. 

You were snapped back to reality when Caleb pressed a harsh kiss to your pussy, his fingers now pumping in and out of you desperately. His lips suctioned around your clit once more, his tongue running swirls over the sensitive nub as he fingered you. 

You let out a shaky exhale, “Caleb.” You warned, feeling yourself clench around his fingers, and that familiar feeling of a coil waiting to snap was building in your stomach. 

“Yeah, baby? Are you gonna be a good girl?” His fingers did a delicious twist inside of you, making you clench your thighs around his head. You felt your body arch into his touch, wanting to feel his fingers deeper within. You panted, your hands gripping the blanket beneath you as you felt him reach knuckle deep into your walls. Your breathing became more and more ragged with each thrust of his fingers, his tongue working deep circles into your clit - it was all so much at once. You could feel him saying something, the deep vibrations from his voice shaking you to your core, but the thoughts in your head had turned off; hearing nothing but white noise as he mercilessly pumped his fingers in and out of you at a ruthless pace. 

“You’re mine, (Y/N).” He breathed, feeling your body begin to tremble under his touch. “Say it. Say you’re mine,” He urged, his tongue messily swiping along your folds.

“I’m yours, - God Caleb, please.” Your hand gripped his hair, fingers digging into his scalp desperately. Your thighs clamped around his face, your head lying backward into the pillows as you stared up at the ceiling with a half-lidded gaze. You were getting so close, and he could tell. 

“You’re taking my fingers so well baby, won’t you cum around my fingers? Please?” His pleading words are music to your ears, lulling you into your high. You feel your legs begin to violently shake; Caleb’s hand pinning your thigh down as he ate you through your climax, groaning in his own enjoyment. Eventually, after you’ve ridden out your high he tilts his head up, his chin slick with your juices. He wipes the wetness off himself with his thumb, popping his fingers into his mouth and sucking them clean. 

“Look at you, my pretty girl.” He sits himself up between your legs, his eyes traveling up your body. 

“Caleb I-,” you propped yourself up onto your elbows, your hand reaching greedily past his face and down to his belt. “I need you,” you said in a hushed tone, your chest rising and falling with each word.

A darkness filled his eyes as a smile graced his lips, the corners eagerly twitching up into a cocked smirk. “As you wish,” His fingers fiddled with the buttons of his jeans, pushing them down in one fluid motion, taking his boxers with them as well. When you looked down you saw his thick cock poke out from the confines of his pants. His hand wrapped around the root of his cock, giving himself slow pumps as his eyes met yours from above. Something had shifted in him, his expression more hungry. Animalistic. You feel him lean over you, his free hand resting beside your head and caging you in his grasp. You feel the tip of his cock press against your soaked folds, sliding up and down your slit in a slow teasing manner. 

“Caleb,” you whined, scooting yourself down toward him to try and relieve the pressure building between your legs. “Don’t,” he warned, his hand moving from himself to grip your hip, pressing you against the mattress firmly. He took his time teasing himself against you before nudging himself inside of you, bottoming out with a muffled groan. You inhaled sharply, feeling him stretch you out all at once.

“Fuck (Y/N), you feel so good,” He panted above you, both his arms now pressed against the mattress on either side of you. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust to his size. His body betrayed him, as he felt his hips begin to move on their own. He pulled back slightly before snapping his hips forward, the loud sound of skin on skin rang out in the air. You let out a surprised yelp, feeling him re-enter your swollen tunnel. You pressed a hand over your mouth, trying to contain the noises that threatened to spill from your lips. 

“Oh no no no,” Caleb’s hand wrapped around yours, pulling your hand off your face and pressing it above your head. “I wanna hear you say my name. Over and over and over again.” He rolled his hips into you, leaning his head down to press a kiss to your jaw. His lips parted, beginning to suck on the tender skin. 

“Caleb, fuck-.” You breathed heavily, exhaling as he pleased you in all the right places.

“That's it, baby, say it again.” He urges you, his hips rolling into yours faster, picking up his pace. He began pistoning in and out of you, small pants and moans as his hips smacked into yours. You reached up around his neck, pulling him back into you for a fervent kiss. Your lips melded together, tongues roaming into each other's mouths as he pounded into you. Your nails clawed into him as he rammed into you, hitting that sweet spot over and over again. You felt his pace become faster and more erratic the more you clenched around his length. He knew you were getting close. He broke the kiss for a second, his head dropping down in earshot.

“You’re being such a good girl (Y/N),” he exhaled, his breath hot and tickling against the shell of your ear. “Tell me, who do you belong to?” His thrusts slowed into a tantalizing pace, the force behind each motion growing. 

You gripped the sheets beneath you, whining as he slowly ruined you. “You, Caleb,” you paused, a choked noise escaping your throat as he bottomed out in you. “Caleb I’m yours- Fuck,” you moaned, your lower half arching into his cock. 

“Yeah?” Caleb picked up his pace slightly, his hand reaching down to caress your face. He cupped your cheek before his fingertips trailed down to the valley between your breasts. “Should I fill you up with my seed? Make you full with my kids?” His hips began mercilessly slamming into you, both your moans drowned out by the overwhelming sound of skin on skin. His brows furrowed as he threw his head back, feeling you engulf him completely. His hands both found your waist, gripping onto your soft flesh for stability as he chased his high. The more you clenched around him, approaching your own climax, the faster his hips snapped into yours. 

“Caleb I’m gonna-,” Your voice cracked, the coil snapping in your stomach as you came hard around his cock.

“Fuck (Y/N), I’m gonna- fill you up so good. Gonna make you pregnant with my children.” His thrusts became sloppy and desperate, his body tensing as you gripped him impossibly tighter. With a final thrust, he came undone, spilling his fluids inside of you; pumping you full of himself. You could feel his cock twitch with every rope of cum he shot inside of you, you’d never felt so full before. He was breathless for a moment, his eyes bore into yours with a deep flash of desire and something more primal, more possessive. When he eventually separated himself from you, he let out a small exhale of satisfaction. You twitched at his exit, feeling his fluid begin to leak out of your sensitive hole. 

“Don’t let it go to waste now, hm?” Calebs fingers ghosted along your folds, swiping up any escaping cum and stuffing it back into your pussy. You shuddered and let out a soft whine, feeling his fingers penetrate you briefly. “So sensitive,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Are you okay, pipsqueak?” His hand moved up to settle on your thigh, pulling you close to him.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you reached up to cup his face in your hands, pressing a peck to his lips.

“Let me go grab you some water, alright? Just give me a second.” He slowly sat up and out of bed, reaching over you to pull his bed cover over your bare body. He fussed with your hair like he always did, and grabbed his pants from the foot of the bed. Once he was fully dressed and made presentable, he grabbed his water bottle off his desk and headed outside his dorm. He paused in the door frame, leaving it open a crack. “It’s right down the hall, I won’t be long.” He gave you a soft smile before disappearing down the hallway, his door slowly closing shut with a soft click.

Hello everyone im back xd !! After years of taking a break of writing I have found a love for LADS,, I initially wrote this fic for a friend but thought I'd post so others may indulge <3 hope you enjoy

[multific]

In This Together

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: Your period is late.

You tried your best not to panic. You tried your best to keep it together.

You tried... but on the inside, you were panicking over it.

And who wouldn't be?

Your period was late! And you wanted to crawl into a hole and cry all day.

Overdramatic? Possibly, yes.

But you were scared, so in your mind, it all made sense.

You even got to a point on your third day that you avoided Mattheo at all costs.

Which he of course noticed.

He tried to catch you in the halls but you were quicker.

He even debated barging into the girl's restroom at one point. 

On the fifth day, he finally caught you and cornered you in the library.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he genuinely looked hurt.

"It's just..." you looked up at him, you knew no one was around you, so you decided to tell him. "I'm late."

"What do you mean? You don't have any classes."

"No..." you wanted to cry and yell but you just let out a sigh. "My period is late." you whispered and he froze in one place.

"But we always used... protection."

"Yes."

"How would it be possible? Did you check with the nurse?"

"I didn't check. My period always came when it should."

"We should go to the nurse."

"I'm scared." you said and you sounded so honest and desperate Mattheo hugged you.

"I'm here, we will figure it out okay? It could be that you are just a bit later than usual. Everything will be fine." he kissed your hair as you hugged him closer.

The next morning, you woke up to a certain pain.

A pain you knew very well.

And indeed, your panic was for nothing. You were simply later than usual.

You felt so relieved. 

Someone knocked on your door before barging in.

"Good morning, Beautiful, so, I made a plan. Simple but I think we could do it. So, you stay in school, I drop out. I go and work in a store or at the Ministry, anywhere. I will put all my paychecks to one side and it would be a start. Then, you can give birth and we would have a home, you can decide if you want to go to finish school after or work, but I also have a small inheritance from my father so we can figure it out."

You blinked at your boyfriend. 

"You didn't sleep did you?"

"Not a blink! Theo threw pillows at me because I kept mumbling, but I thought my plan was good. What do you say?"

"I really do appreciate you coming up with this, Matty but-"

"We are keeping the baby. I don't think that is up for debate... at least not to me."

"We don't have to keep the baby."

"But I want to! I-I realize we are young but we can do it."

"Matty, I'm not pregnant. You were right, my period was just later than usual."

"Oh." his shoulders slacked. "And I spent all night thinking..."

"I appreciate it, and it is very nice to know you wouldn't just leave."

"Of course, I wouldn't."

"Yes, I get it. You look disappointed."

"I'm not going to lie, I spent probably the last four hours just imagining the cutest kid with your eyes and smile and... I kinda am disappointed. It's okay though, I know your father would have killed me so at least now we can wait until after marriage."

"Yes, what? You want to get married?"

"Don't get me started on that. It was another sleepless night after you told me about your father and his... older views." you smiled and walked over to him. 

"I love you." you wanted to say so many things, but you knew this would be simple and enough.

"I love you too." you hugged him and kissed him. "Then, I will get you some chocolate and candy."

"Aww, thank you. Who could have thought you would be such a great boyfriend."

"Well, duh. I'm the best Slytherin."

"That you are."

"And the best boyfriend."

"Exactly." you pulled him in for another kiss.

You really feared that he would just run and be like the guy your friends thought he would be, but it was good to know that he had his own plans, and his future certainly involved you.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Five w/ apocalypse reader— 'the end of the world is the most unfortunate circumstance to develop an obsessive trauma bond.'

Yandere Five had been but a barely pubescent teen when he so wisely chose to manipulate time to win an argument with his dismissive parental figure. It was jarring in the beginning. Everything he had ever known had been stripped from him. There was nothing left but debris and blood.

He always had his powers to aid him, yet for the first time they failed. He realized that his reliance on them is what caused this problem in the first place.

How could he be so idiotic?

Fastrack, six years or so, he tended to lose track due to the harsh winter blocking what was left of the sun and the overarching smog always present. Where was he going with this? Oh, yes. It made it difficult to calendar because of the extenuating circumstances.

It had to be about February when he met you. The snow had settled over more monotonous ruins of what was probably a rural town. Most of the sun rays were blocked by smog and strange cloud formations manipulated by the effects of it all. Still, he could see you, leaning against what still stood of a brick building, devoring a stale-looking twinkie.

"This one's interesting, huh, Dolores?" Think we're gonna have to shoot em'?"

Yandere Five ends up sticking by your side to culminate resources and find your true reasoning for being here. That's totally the justification, yeah. It isn't as if he is incredibly touch starved and on the edge of losing what little sanity he had. He just needs to figure you out. That he does, a little too well.

Yandere Five becomes overbearing. You can't tell if you are being questioned by your future murderer or stalker. He demands you answer all his questions promptly and with the utmost truth. He doesn't fluff them and act nicely or reply with basic human empathy. He simply loses his edge after he learns one more thing about you.

Are you allowed to do the same to him in return?

Absolutely not.

You learning about him is on a need to know basis. So if he feels that you need to know it, you will.

Take him by his word. You have to.

Yandere Five isn't the largest fan of physical affection, or physical anything in fact. It takes years in the apocalypse for him to willingly be touched by you. That's at least how he tries to appear. His expressions are always so blank and dismissive. A sarcastic quip is always on the tip of his sharp tongue.

Yet after only a few months of traveling together, he is more than eager to feel your skin under his.

He doesn't want to be near you, no, but you injured yourself by being foolish. He warned you against it, and still you continued. So now he is using some of the minimal medical supplies you both have so he can patch you up. If both of you were back pre-apocalypse, then he would definitely install a tracker inside your arm. For protection, obviously.

He doesn't want to be touched, no, but you're shivering. Losing the only other seemingly living human being, besides Delores, in the apocalypse would leave him at a great disadvantage.

He doesn't want intimacy with you, no. He has just to cuddle you to protect you and keep the nightmares away. He has to kiss your irresistible lips to keep your morale up. He has to let his thoughts about you to linger about in private, unexplored places so he may relieve himself to release relaxing and happy hormones. It's simple as that.

Deep down, he knows the true reason is that he has become utterly smitten with you. He has just chosen to do his best to gaslight himself, even though statistics state it only makes those feelings worse. Perhaps he wants that. Maybe he just wants one person in this fucked-up world that is his and his wholly and unequivocally.

Yandere Five even gets rid of his beloved Delores for you. He was growing paranoid about her. She kept teasing him about how lovesick he was. She was talking about starting to fall in love with you too. The final straw is when she said she wanted a threesome with you. In the dead of night, he disposed of her, a bullet in her head.

Strangely enough you dropped the subject after asking once. It puzzled him. Did you truly dislike Delores that much to be so nonchalant about her disappearance? Did you know what he did? Of course you didn't. You obviously hated Delores and are glad she is gone.

Good.

He likes it this way.

No more distractions, just you two.

Yandere Five doesn't want to figure out the equation to get back to his pre-apoctalyptic life. He writes down a bunch of meaningful numbers in chalk. They aren't coordinations for returning to the academy. They're calculations about your possible romantic relationship, sexual aspects, how submissive you are, and more.

He has detailed a four letter plan in his private journal.

S ubmissivness — how complacent are you? are you gullible to his tactic? how strong is your moral code? would you go along with him knowing how truly infatuated he is with your very existence?

I nterest — how are you feeling? what are your reactions? he needs to know every single thing about you. he needs to know all of your likes just as importantly as your dislikes.

N eutrality — how will his actions affect you and everything else around you? what is the path that will keep you closest to him while also making him seem like the one in charge? this is how we will know if he has gone too far.

S way — how close are others getting to you? are they looking to befriend you? are their true intentions more sinister? he has to analyze every expression and every movement of those who make any contact with you.

You call it his diary. It is not a diary! Diaries are for feelings; journals are filled with statistics. Besides, you won't ever find the location of his actual diary. He writes it in southern Sumerian anyway. You don't have a chance at deciphering it.

Yandere Five meets the Handler while you are snoozing away after a particularly hard day of labor. He can't believe the promise this strange woman puts before him. He works for this Commission for five years, and after that, he's good as done. He gets you in whatever place he wishes for the rest of your lives.

It's a bunch of bullshit as far as he's concerned. Miracles usually don't come with strings attached. Then again, does he really have a choice? He doesn't want to see you suffer anymore than you already have.

So he takes this once in a lifetime 'golden' opportunity.

Let's just hope this one doesn't bite him in the ass.

Yandere Five tells you that he has a way to get you out of here. The both of you just have to spend a little time away from each other. His body psychically aches while way from you, and it isn't just because he's a crotchety old man. The both of you weren't going to be young forever.

He doesn't necessarily hate the job until he learns that killing you is part of keeping the time continuum in check. He doesn't wait a day after learning that information. He takes your hand and escapes somewhere in the past.

Of course his calculations were rushed and were off in the worst possible way. Of course he ends up in the middle of his father's funeral, both of you stuck in your thirteen-year-old bodies. Of course Kalus has to make a sex joke about it.

Damn it! He wants to scream at the top of his lungs.

He needs you! He had you all to himself, and then other people just had to fuck it up.

It's okay. It's okay.

He'll figure out a way to stop all of this and keep you forever.

Forever. What a pleasant thought.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Gojo buying (y/n) souvenirs after every mission and finding out she kept EVERYTHING

Pairing: Gojo x reader (fem!pronouns)

Word Count: 1,2k

Synopsis: Since your joyful smile is so addictive, Satoru can't help but buy you a souvenir every time he goes on a mission. After a few months, he realizes by accident that you do, in fact, keep everything he gifts you...

Warnings: this is fluffness overload so be prepared, (y/n) has a really bubbly and Mitsuri-like personality, let me know what you thiiiiink and enjoy your holidays🤍

Your heart jumps up and down in joy, feet carrying you down the hallway at lightspeed. Finally he’s back. How long has it been since you’ve last seen him? Definitely too long.

“Satoru!”, you cry out.

There he stands, his arms already wide open while wearing the casual sly grin you adore so much. You can’t contain yourself any longer, your giggles filling his very own heart with nothing but joy.

Satoru doesn’t remember exactly how it all started. After some random mission, he saw a little figure of your favourite animal standing innocently in a show window. He didn’t think much of it, bought it only because it reminded him of you. But oh, you were so joyful back then.

“Are you kidding me?”, you breathed out, glossy eyes staring at the pretty ugly figure so heartfelt that Satoru couldn’t help but shamelessly stare at you.

“It reminded me of you since I know it’s your favourite animal, so yeah…You like it?”

“Like it?”

You grabbed his hands with so much passion that he almost fell backwards, jumping up and down in delight.

“I love it, Satoru! This is probably the nicest thing someone ever did for me!”

It was inevitable from there on. The urge to see your heartfelt joy after every mission became an obsession, forcing him to look into every window, into every shop on the haunt for something you might like. To be honest it made everything more bearable. The loss of his best friend, the people around him dying, all the things that keep him up at night seem to disappear when he’s looking for souvenirs to bring you.

And this.

You almost knock him over by the way you let yourself fall into his arms, hands intertwined behind his back just the way he likes it. Oh, your smell is so intoxicating, as well as your gorgeous appearance sends warm shivers down his spine. How is it even possible that you seem to get more and more breath-taking every time he sees you?

“I was so worried about you! Why didn’t you answer your calls?”, you mumble against the fabric of his uniform, instantly greeted by the singing smell of curses.

“Oh y’know, I had to do a little work from now and then. Like killing off some demons and saving a whole town from getting wiped out. So sorry I didn’t call you back”, he teases you gently.

“That didn’t stop me from getting something for you, though…”

Your eyes widen in sheer excitement, head darting towards him instantly.

“No, you didn’t”, you mutter, lips already forming the most adorable smile.

“Heck yeah I did.”

“I told you over and over that you don’t need to do that, Satoru!”

“Do you like them?”

You bite your lip in a miserable attempt to suppress the wide grin that creeps up your face, cheeks turning the shade of pink that makes Satoru lose his mind.  You are so breath-taking, so pure that it warms his heart.

“Of course I do”, you mumble into your hand.

“There you go.”

He hands you a small box, the brush of his tender touch against your hand sending electricity right through your body. With trembling fingers, you open the light blue ribbon wrapped around it, exposing a simple yet stunning necklace. You desperately try to hold back tears, so moved that you are utterly speechless.

This necklace isn’t this simple. No, engraved into it in Satoru’s iconic handwriting, it says “every thought, you”.

“You can’t be serious about this, Satoru. I really don’t deserve this.”

“You deserve this and even more, (y/n). Do you like it?”

“You ask me if I like it?”, you repeat breathless.

Your finger brushes over the engraving carefully, feeling every curve and every stroke of his elegant hand writing. This must have been expensive – way too expensive for a simple souvenir. But oh how much you love it already, you’ll keep this close to your heart day in and day out.

“I love it. Thank you so much.”

There’s no time to waste. With a swift motion you lunge yourself at him all over again, burying your face against his broad chest. You truly don’t deserve his kindness, his affection. What an outstanding man he is, so tender that it makes you tear up.

“I’d do anything to make you smile”, he mutters into your hair, hands stroking your back ever so gently.

Smile…Oh, you almost forgot!

“Would you…Would you mind coming to my dorm for a second? There’s something I want to give you as well.”

You wipe your tears away unladylike, your hand grabbing his before he’s even able to answer your question.

“Something you want to give to me? Remember when I told you you don’t have to buy me anything?”

“Remember when I told you the same?”, you remark with a slight grin, literally dragging him into your room.

In fact, you stumbled upon this cute figure of a white cat the other day. There was no way you’d leave without buying it, not when it reminded you so much of him.

You swing your drawer open without thinking twice, grabbing the cute little cat with your face glowing in proud.

“Okay, now that’s adorable”, Satoru laughs gently.

Somehow, his eyes get stuck on your drawer though. It looks messy, almost flooding over with all the pieced cramped into it. But no, that isn’t some random rubbish. That figure that stands in the middle of it, it looks so familiar. As well as all those letters, the sweets, the postcards…

It dawns to him, heart skipping a beat. These are all the souvenirs he brought you over the last few years.

“Don’t tell me you kept everything I gave you.”

Oh, please tell him you did.

“Huh?”

Your innocent eyes dart towards the drawer behind you, your cheeks instantly heating up all over again.

“Oh…of course I kept them! Why would I ever throw them away?”

“You even kept the packages of the sweets from last months…”

His heart almost overspills with love. You have to be an angel, too pure and kind for this world. Just one look into your tender eyes is enough to sweep him off his feet, the little cat he holds in his hand sending him over the edge.

“I just love to get reminded of you I guess.”

“And I love you, (y/n). You have to be the most precious human being I’ve ever met.”

The way your eyes widen and your mouth shoots open is priceless. You look so utterly surprised that he can’t help but chuckle while wrapping his strong arms around you all over again.

“Y-you, loving me?”, you stutter.

“Well, I was hoping you’d love me too-“

“I do”, you interrupt him immediately.

“I love you more than any souvenir!”, you babble out.

“That’s what a man needs to hear”, he laughs softly.

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @chilichopsticks

[reidology13]

Hi i love ur writing , ur a really a good author!! If ur taking requests, and u feel inspired, would u mind writing more aaron x babysitter? I just read the two u wrote and they got me in a chokehold.

Maybe more pre-relationship shenanigans? I was eating up the lack of boundaries they had for people who are not dating. Maybe more of that? I'm trying to think of a prompt im sorry if this is too vague.

Maybe he starts calling her pet names (i would explode if aaron called me pet names ) or she calls to check on him at work or something that r clearly coupley things?

If not, that's fine. Love ur work!!

'til there was you

cw: age gap, hotch calls reader 'sweetheart', insecurities, pining? lots and lots of fluff wc: 1.6k a/n: tysm anon you're so kind, knowing that you enjoy my writing made my week <3 I kinda mixed your two prompts together, except hotch calls from work instead of reader so I hope it's still what you wanted!

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The sound of the phone ringing on the bench echoed throughout the kitchen, and you finished plating Jack’s dinner in record speed before you picked it up, squeezing it between your ear and shoulder. You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face at the sound of Aaron’s voice greeting you on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Aaron.” You did your best to keep your tone in check, trying to keep the very visible smile from showing audibly, not wanting him to profile your voice.

“How are you doing?” His voice was low, and you could just make out the chatter in the background that you’d learnt to associate with police stations over the past three years. You noticed the rough sound of exhaustion in his cadence, and damn if it wasn’t attractive, even if it made you worry an unfair amount about his well being.

“Good, Jack’s good, we went out today and he ran himself ragged, so I’m making him an early dinner. He’ll be out the moment his head hits the pillow, trust me.” You glanced over at the boy, sitting at the coffee table with a small puzzle that he’d been working on for a half hour, you’d let him finish it after dinner.

“You know I always trust you. I just called to tell you I’ll be home early tonight, I should get there in an hour or two.” That got your attention, he almost never left work before the sun set below the DC skyline, or, well, you weren’t sure what the horizon looked like in Quantico.

“Oh, okay, I’ll see you then?” You carried the plates over to the dining table, pausing the conversation for a moment to tell Jack to wash his hands, then to undo that hygienic work by handing him the phone. He spoke to Aaron for a minute or two, his four-year-old attention span incapable of paying attention to a faceless conversation when there were chicken nuggets on the plate in front of him. You took the phone back, finishing the extended conversation with a few short words.

“See you soon, Sweetheart.” The sound of the call ending reverberated through your ears, a feedback loop of high-pitched ringing combined with the faint sound of his voice, and you couldn’t help but be glad he wasn’t there to witness how easily you fell apart from one simple word. Throughout dinner Jack managed to pull you out of your thoughts, mostly due to pure persistence on his part, asking question after question until you had no choice but to engage to his satisfaction. It worked, that is until you had helped him through his night time routine and put him safely to bed. He went to sleep just as easily as you had expected, and you’d checked your watch to discover it was almost seven, and Aaron would be arriving at any moment, if he had been right about when he would be there.

Sweetheart.

He’d said it so casually, like it was how he referred to you on a regular basis, like it wasn’t the first time you had ever heard that name from his lips. It made it far worse, in a way, knowing that in your presence he had never used it for someone else. Of course, he probably had, but to your ears that name was reserved specifically for you. That was the kind of thing he did, small, meaningless gestures that made you wonder, question, two things you absolutely should not have risked doing.

So you were lost in thought, again, Jack’s momentary distraction rendered useless in the face of a silent house, waiting for Aaron to arrive, too preoccupied to consider distracting yourself with menial chores. Luckily, or unluckily, he arrived shortly after you’d put Jack to bed, you’d likely had less than an hour before he walked through the door. He called out your name quietly, careful not to wake Jack, and seemed in a fairly good mood for after a case.

“Hi.” You mumbled, dodging his gaze as he sat down beside you on the couch, and you swore you could feel the exact moment his gaze sharpened, undoubtedly noticing your avoidant behaviour.

“What’s wrong?” He brushed his hand against your shoulder, silently asking for your attention, as if he didn’t have all of it before he even walked through the front door. You looked up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye, just knowing that he could see your face was nerve-wracking enough. The profiler in him was undoubtedly reading every one of your expressions, and he likely knew your emotions before you did.

“Nothing, I promise.” He scoffed at your words, and you felt your cheeks heat in embarrassment at your words, naive enough to convince yourself he wouldn’t know the moment the lie left your lips.

“You can’t lie to me, tell me what it is.” When denial failed, diversion was probably right below as the backup in whatever profiler’s dictionary the must have helped write, although that did nothing to stop you from jumping right to it.

“You never get home this early.” He tensed, and his hand stilled against your shoulder—-where, you realised, he had been casually rubbing your skin through your shirt for the past few moments—before relaxing back into his usual demeanour, raising a judging eyebrow, as if to tell you he knew exactly what you were trying.

“We wrapped it up, I didn’t need to stay in the office.” He almost never needed to, but he always did, and he hadn’t run to Jack when he came through the door, instead he seemed to be latching to you, “Now tell me what’s bothering you, Sweetheart.”

Oh, so he really wanted you dead, there was no other explanation for his behaviour, he must have known how you felt, and he was using it to kill you. It was unfair, what you said next was basically against your will, he had forced it out of you with his gentle touches and cruel words.

“You’ve never called me ‘Sweetheart,’ before.” Possibly the worst thing you had ever said to him, which was certainly saying something, since you always managed to lose half of your brain cells simply by breathing the same air as him.

“And that has you all worried because…” The amused lilt in his tone made your stomach curl in on itself, a mix of embarrassment and something you didn’t want to name settling heavily within you. That knowing spark in his eye that never failed to make you squirm, although you could never be entirely sure why.

In some unbidden stroke of genius, you managed to find a reasonable excuse that didn’t sound like the most carefully bullshitted sentence in history, “People say things like that when they’re about to let someone down. I was worried I was fired or something.”

His eyes softened, and you almost felt bad for bringing about the guilt in his eyes, although remembering that your lie was single-handedly carrying your dignity helped with the shame a fair bit. He ran his hand over yours where it rested on your thigh, while the other continued rubbing gently over the clothed skin of your shoulder. You assumed this was his attempt at soothing you, unfortunately all he was succeeding at was increasing your heart rate and making it hard to breathe.

“Oh, Sweetheart, of course not. You’re part of the family, I could never let you go.” He smiled at you, and despite the fact that you were seated, you swore you went weak at the knees, your breath hitching at how close he was, how easy it would be to lean forward.

“Then why?” Your voice was slightly too breathless, and the way he didn’t even seem to notice made it all just that much harder to hold yourself back. But at the same time it acted as a reminder of exactly why you couldn’t ever have him. He had no idea, and no matter how alluring that obliviousness was, if he ever did find out you would, in fact, lose the job he was promising you would have for as long as you wanted. You knew that realistically he wouldn’t be able to continue hiring you once Jack was fourteen or fifteen, and decidedly too old to have a babysitter. You also knew that once you had finished your education, you would find a job that would help you pay for an actual apartment, and maybe, one day, a house and family. But it was the thought that counted, and if you told him how you felt, you would lose it—lose him—forever.

“I don’t know. You’re one of the few people I’m close to, I want to separate you from everyone else.” There he was, making you wonder, once again, always switching up and finding ways to surprise you, just when you thought you’d figured him out.

You weren’t sure you had the words to respond to him, or if your voice would even comply if you tried to speak, so you simply nodded and turned away from him, just so that you were no longer looking in his eyes. What you didn’t do, however, was move away from his warm hands, so nice on your skin, even through the fabric of your shirt.

When it came to Aaron, you couldn’t seem to help but question, his hands so rough, with a soft touch that contrasted so beautifully. A name just for you, that told you he saw you as someone separate, different from everyone else, filling your heart with what could only be false hope. 

But if false hope was all you would get, you would take it every time, especially if it came with the added bonus of ‘Sweetheart,’ murmured so gently, the way you suspected it always would.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

tysm for reading!!

Tags: @reidmoony-toast @selmasdaydreams - Comment to be added <3

[fairestwriting]

Could I request headcanons of Ace, Trey, Riddle, and Silver's reactions to getting free snacks from their partner?

𐙚 Riddle Rosehearts

”It’s… are you sure I can have that? Um… I appreciate it, thank you.”

Riddle is a little surprised at first, even though it’s something so simple. He’s just not really used to any sort of spontaneous gifting? Even though Trey does something similar when there’s leftovers of the strawberry tart he likes— But it’s different with Trey, of course.

He is a little bit picky though. He gets conflicted on whether he should accept things he doesn’t like that much. On one hand, Riddle doesn’t really feel like eating these chips… But on the other, you specifically gave them to him. You might have even bought them for him. He can’t bring himself to say no, even if he doesn’t want them, even if he feels like he’s not supposed to eat them…

He always ends up eating at least some of it though. As he gets more used to it, it becomes a little bit easier to explain that he doesn't really like something or the other… But if it’s homemade stuff, he’s immediately folding. You made it? For him? No one besides Trey has ever done that. The fact that you took time out of your day to make that completely cancels out any hangups he might have with flavor or texture— And it flusters him every single time, without fail.

𐙚 Trey Clover

”Oh, are you sure? Well, then I’ve got something for you too.”

He’s not taking no for an answer, it doesn't matter where you are, what time it is, or what sort of snack you’re offering him. You’re giving him something, so of course he wants to return the gesture! And he’s always got some food in his bag too, mostly leftover desserts he’s made for the Heartslabyul boys.

He’ll take pretty much whatever you give him, especially if it’s anything you made yourself. It’s fine if you’re not the best cook around, he’s not picky and he’s already happy you thought of him at all while you were in the kitchen.

If it becomes a regular thing, Trey starts keeping snacks you specifically like to give you in return. Even if you never told him what your favorite Unbirthday Party dish was, he’ll just pay attention until he can make an educated guess. He really enjoys that as a part of your routine, it’s a quick and easy way to make each other’s day a little brighter, and make sure you know you’re cared for.

𐙚 Ace Trappola

”Aw, how’d you know I was getting hungry? Are you gonna feed it to me too?”

He’s a little shit about it, because of course he is, but it actually does fluster Ace a little bit. Even more if it’s done out of nowhere, and he really was getting hungry— Were you really watching him this closely? He wasn’t expecting that. He certainly wasn’t expecting your response to be offering him food, either…

Ace will shrug and tell you he’ll take it because he doesn’t turn down free food, but the light flush on his cheeks can be telling, if you’re actually looking. If it’s anything that you could feed to him, he’ll tease you over that, opening his mouth and going ”Aah~” before you can even react.

…And he’ll really let you feed him. He makes these exaggerated cutesy faces while you do, giggling through the whole thing… But actually, he kind of loves it. Ace tells himself (and you) that he’s just joking around, trying to fluster you by commenting on how much you spoil him, but he’s really just baiting you to do it more. The day after, he’ll even ask if you ”have any more treats for him”. If you say no, he’ll pester you about how you’re “neglecting” him. If you ever had cats, you’ll definitely find yourself being reminded about them.

𐙚 Silver

”That’s… really kind of you, thank you. Do you want me to get you something from the cafeteria too?”

…You’ll probably want to bring him something even long before you two get together. His stories about eating Lilia’s cooking as a child are enough to move even the coldest of souls. The feeling is only doubled when Silver casually shows you a picture of some of his “less” terrible creations.

It doesn’t really fluster him, but it’s not like it doesn’t move him in any way either— Silver is also someone who’s not all that used to receiving things, specifically not from friends or a partner. Even something as tiny as a candy bar will have him so grateful you thought of him. His neutral resting face turns into a surprisingly sunny smile as he pockets his newly acquired snack, thanking you.

He’ll pretty much always offer to get you something in return, and if it’s currently break time, he’ll ask if you want to eat with him too. If you do decide to ask him to get you something, he’s going to make his way to the cafeteria and retrieve it in record time, always quick enough for you two to have time to sit and eat together. Somehow he never comes back late or empty handed, regardless of what you asked for. You’re not sure how he does it, considering the lines that build up in the cafeteria sometimes… it might as well just be pure willpower.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[matchpointfaist]

dilf! art

he finally worked up the nerve to text you after a long two days, after much deliberation of if this was even ethical, if pursuing his peers daughter made him a creep. he decided that, no, it didn’t. your dad was older than him, and he still spent time surrounded by athletes your age anyway. plus, you had to be interested, or you would have never given him the time of day. with all that in mind, he sent you a simple text.

‘hey, it’s art. how are you?’

you replied soon after, casting a small smile across his face.

‘hi! i’m good, you? i didn’t see you around the courts this morning.’

god, had you looked for him? the thought twisted into something obscene so quickly that he had to blink it away, shaking his head and trying to regain focus.

‘i’m at home, actually. have an event this afternoon in the city.’

it was safe, he told himself. small talk with an acquaintance, that’s all. just friendly.

‘oo, what event? that’s such a funny coincidence, i’ll be in the city tonight as well at the club’s charity gala.’

oh, god. oh, he was so fucked. an entire night, with you, in a semi intimate setting. your father would probably be there. hell, his ex wife would probably be there.

‘i’ll be there too. small world.’

his throat was dry as he sent the message, his teeth worrying over his bottom lip, a mix of dread and excitement curling in his stomach.

‘see you tonight then! xx’

art, embarrassingly, spent the entire car ride to the gala psyching himself up for seeing you. he went over all the variables and possibilities, all the ways that he needed to avoid making a complete fool of himself, all the ways he wanted to impress you.

time stopped when he saw you, your satin dress sparkling in the light, your laugh carrying through the room and going straight to his head. your dress was short and your heels were tall and you looked like a fucking model, like a daydream, a vision of tanned legs and shimmery makeup.

“oh, mr. donaldson!” the sound of his name from your lips snapped him from his trance, and he smiled the best he could, practically buzzing with your proximity, “i’m glad you made it. here, i saved you a seat next to me. my father couldn’t make it, so it was empty,”

“oh, thank you,” he grabbed a champagne flute from a passing server, trying not to let his gaze linger too much as you lead him to the seats, your hips swaying with every step. it was gonna be a long night, he thought to himself. especially without your father to be a buffer.

thankfully, once you took your seats, the long droning of speeches started. over an hour of pledges and donation announcements and information on the benefits of the charity, things that he didn’t particularly care about but was suddenly grateful for, since it kept him from making any reckless mistakes involving you.

god, you. you’d been drinking champagne like it was going to disappear, glass after glass without any other substance to keep you from getting too drunk. you were giggling by the time the speeches wrapped, laughing at nothing in particular, covering your mouth as you did. he should’ve suggested you slow down- shouldve done the right thing, been a good influence, been the mature one.

but then your hand was on his shoulder, and the giggles had stopped, replaced by a glint in your eyes that he couldn’t quite place. “you’re so strong,” you told him, smiling and biting your lip, looking him over, “is that all from tennis, mr. donaldson? your arms are so big,” and you were squeezing at his bicep with your manicured hands, watching him in a way that made his heart stutter.

“it’s- yeah, it’s all from tennis. i mean, i work out too, but tennis is most of it,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure, “i think you’re drunk, sweetheart. do you want me to call you an uber? or do you have someone that can come pick you up? this was right- the ethical thing to do. to send you off and shake this from his mind and steer clear from now on.

“i don’t wanna go home,” you sighed, leaning your head back on your chair dramatically, “my driver will be here in an hour and a half. i’ll be fine,”

“you had seven glasses, i think fine is an exaggeration,” he mumbled, “let me take you home. i don’t want anything to happen you,” he didn’t want any guys to take advantage of you- didn’t want them to do the very things he was thinking of at that moment.

to his surprise, you agreed, and he suddenly wasn’t sure if it was relief or dread he felt. when he stood to leave, you stood with him, pulling yourself up by his arm and letting your touch linger once again, looking up at him and smiling so sweetly it was hard to believe you’d been throwing back drinks all night.

“come on, darlin,” he led you outside, opening doors and excusing the two of you, calling the valet and waiting patiently. he tried to train his eyes anywhere but you, looking entirely too long at the fountain, at the other cars, anywhere but your legs and your curled hair and your- “mr. donaldson,” your voice disturbed him once again, “it’s really cold,”

he glanced over, and you were shivering in the night air, holding your arms around your chest tightly. he acted before thinking, like he always did with you, and shrugged off his suit jacket, draping it over your small shoulders lightly. “that better?” he asked softly, concern knitting his brows. you nodded, thanking him and taking the fabric into your hands, pulling it tighter around you.

“mr. don-“ “please, call me art,” it came out almost pained, but he truly didn’t know if he could take it anymore, the mr. and the way you looked at him, and then oh god- “okay, art,”

this was so much worse, his first name on your lips like that. he nearly choked on air, his cheeks reddening like a fucking high schooler. before he could dwell on it, the valet pulled his car around, tossing him the keys with a smile. he opened the door for you, looking over the car to avoid having to see your thighs sliding against the leather seat.

when he settled into the drivers side, pulling out of the lot, you finally spoke again. “your car is nice,” you hummed, tracing your fingers over the leather interior. he watched you, entranced, as he sat at a stop light. the way your fingernails scraped slightly over the fabric, the way you glanced over at him, a coy little smile on your lips.

he tried to ignore it, to just focus on the road. he maintained it for the most part, making it all the way to your street before he let it slip, glancing over at you. you looked to be half asleep, all curled up in his suit coat, your heels discarded in the floor and your feet tucked into the seat. you looked so peaceful, so angelic, he had to force his eyes away so he didn’t wreck his car.

he pulled into the drive, letting it idle just outside your gate, reaching over to touch your shoulder gently. “hey, sweetheart, you’re home,” he murmured, trying not to startle you awake, “come on, you gotta get up,”

you made a little noise as you stirred, turning in the seat to look up at him, yawning quietly. “thank you,” you said softly, and the air was suddenly so thick, it was so warm and you were so fucking beautiful- “will your wife be wondering where you are?”

all the breath left his lungs at that, at the presumption in your tone, the way you glanced him over as you asked. “ex wife,” he choked out, “we’re not- we got divorced,” “mm,” you hummed, smiling slightly, “that’s a shame. i’m sorry to hear that,”

“don’t be,” he said a little too quickly, “you really should go, darlin. it’s late,” you sat back to unbuckle your seatbelt, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to him carefully. “thank you again for the ride, art,” you said quietly, “it was really sweet of you. most guys would’ve tried something,”

the image was almost too much for him to bear- the thought of trying something with you, of getting to touch you, to make you come undone right there in the passenger seat of his car. he shifted in his seat, clearing his throat, struggling to focus. “well, most guys are stupid,” he muttered, “you’re obviously too drunk to do anything,”

you let out a little laugh at that, shaking your head. “you’re so chivalrous,” you smiled, “maybe it’s because you’re older. i’m so tired of guys my age,” jesus christ, he was a goner. “yeah?” he exhaled shakily, “you’re tired of them? why’s that?”

“they just don’t know how to treat a woman,” you shrugged, “they’re rushed and greedy and assholes,” you giggled quietly, “you know how it is. i’m sure you have younger girls hanging all over you,” god, he wanted to. “no, no,” he shook his head quickly, “i don’t- i don’t want to take advantage of anyone that way,”

you leaned a little closer, the smell of your perfume suddenly clogging his senses, “well let me know if you ever change your mind,” you whispered, the heat blowing through the vents nearly drowning out the sound.

“sweetheart, you don’t- you’re drunk,” he managed to get out, his hands itching to grab at you, to do something. “i’m not that drunk,” you argued, pouting slightly, “anyway, i’m just saying. you have my number,”

you turned to get out, and he knew it was stupid, knew it was reckless and a bad idea and he’d regret it tomorrow and you were young and he was such a bad person, but then he was kissing you and you made a soft little preening sound and he knew he’d never regret it, not truly. he’d be a bad person if it meant he got to do this again, if he got to be the one to make you make that sound.

you kissed him back, draped across his center console to reach him, your hands on his shoulders and grabbing at his dress shirt and he could’ve lost it right there, could’ve pushed the seat back and pulled you into his lap and fucked you stupid, could’ve made you see what you were missing with all the boys your age. and he was sure you would’ve let him, if the noises you made from just his kisses were any indicator.

but then the motion light at your gate was on, and he was yanking away from you like a criminal caught, his eyes wide as he looked at your blown out pupils and smeared lipstick. “oh, shit,” you said under your breath, fixing your dress and grabbing your heels, “my dad tried to call my cell, i didn’t even notice. thank you again, art. i’ll see you at the club,”

and then you were gone, leaving the scent of your perfume and the tent in his slacks behind. he watched you put in the gate code and disappear behind it, his mind running wild with what he could’ve done to you.

when he got home, he tried to shower it off, to wash off the all consuming need he felt for you, the sins he’d nearly committed in his car. but his hands wandered and soon he was cursing and moaning your name under his breath as he came undone under the shower stream, images of you and that dress playing like a film in his mind.

when he got into bed and checked his phone, he had one unread message.

‘i had fun tonight. goodnight, art. x’

[tojisun]

!! suggestive (and mini smut) - minors dni; bimbo (fem)!reader has simon wrapped around her pinky (we luv to see it!); the squad’s here too; hinted age difference (30s v. 20s)

when they ask him where you two met, simon always tries his best to tamp down the smile threatening to grace his lips before clearing his throat and answering, "in the ER."

the questions that follow are always repetitive: 'what, why?', 'what happened?', 'how did things even go from there?' the last one is often paraphrased into some other versions, but the sentiment remains – people always get surprised, reduced into awkward stumbling because how could you even segue into a romantic relationship from having met in the ER?

well, simon thinks, it's actually quite fucking simple.

it was three in the morning and simon was in the lobby, waiting to be called in, when he saw you walk in: you clutched your broken heeled shoes in your hands, your beautiful legs were bearing injuries and cuts, and your hair was a wild mess. then, you ambled towards a baffled triage nurse.

"hi!" simon recalls your melodic voice echo, sounding too hyper even when you looked all banged up. "can i use y'r restroom? we got kicked outta the club."

simon was so focused on you that he didn't even notice the pack of girls following behind you, all of them looking just as haggard and bruised up. one of your friends was actually worryingly injured, so it’s no shock when the nurse rushed towards her, slightly panicked and confused before steering your friend away, leaving you there in the lobby.

then, you turned around, frowning at having been ignored, and it gave simon the best vantage point of finally seeing your face. he swears his heart stuttered in his chest, his lungs constricting, because holy shit, you are beautiful.

"then the rest is history," simon ends, pulling you close to him. any closer and you would have ended on his lap – something he preferred, anyway – but johnny continues to stare at the two of you with a slack jaw, his eyes almost bulging out in confusion so simon tries to keep it civil.

you giggle, and simon watches as the rest of the squad snap their eyes on you, as though expecting you to grace them with a better explanation. but simon knows that you probably don't even know what's going on, having been busy tapping away on your phone, your acrylics making distinct clacks as they hit the screen.

"i love the history channel," you singsong, batting your eyelashes as you give them a dimpled smile. "simmy-" simon almost coos at the nickname you gave him, "and i looove watching the penguins."

simon presses a kiss on the top of your head, ignoring the bewildered looks his squad is shooting him.

"that's the 'animal planet', love. not the history channel," simon corrects gently, rubbing his hand down your side.

"oh!" you say, unbothered by your mistake. "okay!"

and that was that.

"what the fuck," simon hears johnny wheeze out only to up making choking noises when kyle elbows him. simon ignores them, choosing to watch as you turn back to your phone, mass-retweeting a series of post made by the magazine catalogue that you've been following.

cute.

---------

"fuck," simon hisses, feeling the sharp edge of the kitchen knife slicing through the first layer of his skin. he watches the blood bead, trickling down his finger, and simon wipes it before it can stain the pristine green – "sage!" you tutted to him once – countertops.

"si?" you ask, padding towards the kitchen at the clamour. he feels you press yourself to his side, your perky tits nuzzling his robust muscles. "what's goin- y'r bleeding!"

he grunts, frowning at himself for having made you worry. he moves to reassure you that he's okay, but you're already tugging him out of the kitchen, your smaller hand wrapped around his thicker wrist.

god, he loves seeing the size difference.

you're wearing his military shirt, the material sliding down your body beautifully, before pooling just above your perky ass. simon unabashedly stares at the way your ass jiggles – hidden underneath the tiniest booty shorts he knows you own – his throat bone dry and his sweats filling up all of a sudden.

he barely realizes that you two are in the bathroom until you're steering him towards the edge of the bathtub before twisting to fish the emergency kit from the floor cabinets. simon almost groans at the perfect shape that your ass makes when you bend over, feeling himself throb with raging desire.

you pull out a pink emergency kit and skitter towards him again, slotting yourself between his spread legs. simon raises his hand – the uninjured one – to grasp at your waist, sliding it down to your hips, before giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"it's nothin' fatal, sweet'art," simon mumbles, thumbing your hipbone as he tries to comfort you.

you're still pouting at him when you say, "sure, i guess. but lemme help you?"

and who is simon to say no to that?

"of course, love."

he lets out a quiet chuckle when you press your glossed lips on his forehead, unbothered even when your lips leave a sticky stamp on his skin.

he watches you disinfect his wound with a strawberry-scented sanitizer before wrapping a pink adhesive bandage around it. his worries about having his open wound disinfected by a glittery sanitizer fade away when you picked his hand up to place a kiss on his now-bandaged finger.

glitter-induced infections no longer matter. not when simon's getting nursed to full health by such a pretty girl.

he licks the back of his teeth, clenching his jaw, and thinks, you deserve a reward, don't you, sweetness?

---------

johnny blanches when he sees the bandage around simon's finger. "LT, what in fuck's name is that?"

his loud voice snags the attention of garrick and their captain who ambled their way towards him upon hearing the commotion. garrick chokes on nothing when he sees the pink bandage that simon's sporting.

"bandage," simon replies, pride heavy in his voice. "from my girl."

johnny whirls and shoots a pointed look towards kyle and john. kyle is the one who breaks the silence.

"…are they safe for use?"

"what's the cat even bandaging?" johnny adds.

simon huffs, flicking his finger up to give the squad a better view. "firstly, this is 'hello kitty'. secondly, you questionin' my girl’s ability to care for me?"

john coughs, looking away, kyle arches a brow at him like the answer should be obvious, and johnny gulps loudly, before mumbling, "...yes."

simon sniffs, unable to blame them. "yeah, well, don't."

the squad is still quiet. waiting.

simon finally gives in and replies, "i checked. they're safe for use."

he rolls his eyes at their dramatic sigh.

"that's good to hear," john says before clapping his hands together once, urging them to disperse.

simon grumbles all the way back to his room.

---------

simon loves his pretty, dumb girlfriend to death.

he loves seeing you dolled up – skimpy dresses made of silk material paired with heels that could honestly stab someone to death. he also loves seeing you in nothing but his ratty jumpers – loose black sweaters stopping just after your crotch and the sleeves falling past your fingers.

but nothing tops seeing you naked and crying for him.

nothing could ever top this – your legs folded close to your chest, your ankles hooked on his shoulders, your pretty make up running as tears trickle from the corners of your eyes and flood your cheeks.

he thrusts his fingers in your cunt again, breathless when it punches out another slick gush of your squirt, drenching you two even more. you squeal, body locking, your hips lifting from the bed. simon has to press down on your belly to keep you stable.

"siii!" you cry out, thrashing on his hold, but simon just kisses your leg as he continues to fuck his fingers in you.

"shh," simon murmurs, feeling so choked up at the sight you make. "one more for me, yeah?"

you moan out a reply, a garbled mixture of 'yes' and his name, before wrapping your hands around his arms, your acrylics digging into his skin. simon doesn't even register the pain, still too caught up at fingering you to feel the way you're clawing him.

still too caught up at how perfect you are for him.

(later, when he checks the mirror and sees the angry red welts, simon purrs at the sight of them. because simon loves being marked by you, doesn't matter how, as long as he has bearings of your pleasure. pleasure he gave you.)

---------

simon receives a video message from you. it’s nothing long or conspicuous, but simon still chokes when he finally gets to watch it.

because in the video, you’re wearing simon’s old varsity shirt on top of your university cheer uniform.

“look!” you chirp, twirling for him. “found this in the closet!”

simon slams his captain’s door open and demands a vacation leave.

---------

the lieutenant has a new tattoo and johnny doesn't know what the actual shit it's supposed to be.

it looks like a wriggly blob of a... cloud? a cotton ball? candy floss?

it was still a somewhat fresh tattoo so simon never truly shows it off – johnny doesn't even know if it's worthy of being shown off – until one night at a bar, simon rolls up the sleeves of his jumper and leans to the squad to point at the blob.

"lookit," he slurs, tipsy and just a touch giddy.

finally, johnny cheers to himself before reaching forward to poke just beside the scribble.

"what's it?"

"mittens," their lieutenant croons, smiling down at his skin like a weirdo.

johnny has seen enough mittens to know that whatever that fucking squiggle is isn't mittens.

"uhm," kyle says, thankfully thinking along the same lines as johnny. "is it?"

"yeah," simon says wistfully, drunken in a lovesick way. "s'my girl's cat. she drew it f'r me."

oh. well, fuck. now that's just too cute.

wait.

"that's a drawing of a cat?" johnny rasps out, choking on his spit before turning to study the tattoo again.

it's still a fucking blob.

christ.

[psin314]

Angst you say? What types of angst were you planning for them??? Like what type of angst could these lovebirds have?! Will they break up??? Have an argument then one of them leaves for a contract and DIES??? LIKE WHAT ANGST!? DETAILS!!! ARE NEEDED!!!

okay. as you wish, anon!!!

full pic and explanation under the cut. tw very sad blood death very sad again

idk if it's canon or not…………….. i'll keep drawing them happy anyway.

the text is very messy sorry my english is ba*gunshot*

murat, 50, lucanis, 45. still crows, lucanis is the first talon, murat is his right-hand man.

at 49, murat was stabbed on a seemingly simple contract, he even hobbled home with a wound and almost gave lucanis a heart attack because murat acted as if nothing terrible had happened, but he could barely stand on his feet. he was stabbed close to the liver, close but not fatal. the fade prison did something to lucanis and after that he became more nervous, anxious or something, idk. overprotective, maybe. after that, lucanis said that's it, we will retire and move to the outskirts of antiva, away from all this. murat thought lucanis was joking and then realized he wasn’t joking at all. after a little fight, murat promised one year more okay, we'll solve this thefirsttalon problem and finally run away from here. oh and we'll get a dog, a cat, and a goat, whoever you want, my love. lucanis agreed.

10 months passed. they were either on a contract or on some kind of crow mission, but it turned out to be an ambush. they were ready for this, because there are attempts on their lives, like, all the time. but this time these guys were very well prepared and there were several times more of them. (maybe even spite couldn't do spite things and lucanis had to rely only on his skills. some kind of magical artifact.) after a short fight, lucanis' head was slammed against the wall and he was knocked out but was still conscious. murat killed this guy and the last one remained. and at the same time murat cut their throat, they stabbed murat in the chest with all their might with a terrible crunch. falling to the ground, they also pulled the knife out of murat. murat only had the strength to slide down the wall.

spite tried to lift lucanis but he couldn't, he kept repeating that murat was hurt. eventually lucanis regained consciousness and crawled to murat. he was holding his chest and looked really fucking bad. lucanis opened murat's collar and there was a deep wound with blood oozing out. the same blood was also pouring out of his mouth. lucanis said that he will come up with something right now, he will find help, murat just needs to hold on a little. he was panicking, not knowing what to do, he tried to cover the wound with both hands, but the blood was oozing right through his fingers. murat, with the last of his strength, said that he loves him very much and he is so sorry that he couldn't keep his promise. he covered lucanis' hands with his own. lucanis said that he doesn't give a shit about the promise, just live, please. but after these words, murat wilted and his hand slowly slid down to lucanis's wrist, and then hung.

lucanis had a very short stage of denial, because he had seen death many times and this was exactly it. at first he tried to lift him up, to carry him somewhere, but for some reason murat's body was now incredibly heavy, and it was as if lucanis had no strength at all. he tried to talk to him but he no longer answered. well… so he sat down next to him. he sat there for i don’t know how long. spite didn’t understand at all why the fuck lucanis was just sitting there and doing nothing. why didn’t he help him. probably spite is still somewhat confused about death, he doesn't fully understand the death of mortals.

i don't know what will happen to lucanis next, everything is so bad, it's horrible if you think about it. rook was his first, in many things. murat was his best friend, assistant, support. he was afraid that murat could be killed, but he wasn't afraid when murat was next to him, because together they can handle anything. and then this happens… plus spite harbored a grudge against him. he blamed lucanis for not saving rook. lucanis tried to explain to him that murat had already died and it was no longer possible to bring him back. but spite is spite, he stood his ground. and soon lucanis also began to blame himself. what he will do next, i can't even imagine.

the end!!

[cheeseceli]

Boyfriend Taehyung

Pairing: Kim Taehyung × Gn!reader (established relationship)

Genre: fluff, headcanons

Request: can you write dating taehyung headcanons?

Warnings: he's an idol, mentions of marriage, skinship

A/n: last post of the year, how we feeling 💃🏻 | daily click

Hobi ver. | Namjoon ver. | Jimin ver. | Taehyung ver. | Jungkook ver.

‌Before dating, you both were already friends

‌So looking at you both is just like seeing two best friends having fun around each other

‌And honestly, that might be the cutest thing of your relationship

‌He is currently taking you on random dates

‌"There is this place where you can take care of ducks. We should go there"

‌Okay??

‌He truly just sees anything and he's like "oh I should go there with my partner"

‌Just because wherever he goes he needs you by his side

‌That leads me to my next point

‌He always includes you

‌In conversations, no matter with whom, he'd always say "we"

‌Someone randomly says "taehyung, would you like to go to this new cafe" and he's like "We would love to go"

‌Because he's always including you

‌Since he started dating you it's never simply "I", it's always "we"

‌And if you both go to some place where there is live music

‌Like a restaurant or you were just walking down the street and someone is playing guitar there

‌Be ready because he will call you to dance

‌Always with a knowing/teasing smile, he will hold your hand and just starts slow dancing with you

‌"But what about the people watching" nah he's not thinking about it

‌He's only thinking that if he has any opportunity to have you close, he will have you close

‌Also sings to you randomly

‌If we're talking about a scenario where he's an idol, he would like to keep the relationship private

‌He doesn't think the world should have a place in your relationship. This is about the two of you only, and it should stay like this

‌He'd only want to make the relationship public the moment you get married, because then he'd need to explain the sudden ring on his hand

‌But he sets boundaries very quickly. Not the fans, not the media, not the company, NO ONE will dare to put themselves between the two of you

‌You become the topic of his songwriting

‌Makes a whole album for you fr fr

‌If you allow him, he'd put one of your voicemails in the song. It becomes his favourite song

‌TAKES PICTURES OF YOU

‌He has like a few albums of photos of all these pictures (there are a lot of them)

‌This guy is a kisser

‌You will be kissed every day every hour, be prepared

‌Gives you a lot of hand made gifts as well

‌And gifts for no reason at all, he just wanna cherish you just because

‌He also gives you flowers

‌And takes you to meet his family the moment the opportunity arises!!

‌He can't wait to see you with the people he loves the most

‌And he's also incredibly happy when you're with the boys

‌Although I have this feelings that he would take you to meet the most important people to him the moment you become his crush

‌Silence with him is very... Comfortable

‌There is no need to fill the silence, it's not awkward

‌I feel like you can just turn his brain off with him and simply enjoy

‌This is just a very fresh relationship you know

‌His love is kinda like a sunny day

‌It's bright, warm, it makes you happy...

‌And it's also simple

‌You never have to overthink around him

‌His love also heals your inner child

‌Loves when you visit him at work

‌The boys are never able to tease him because he doesn't care lmao, he's just happy you're there

‌He also LOVES when you call him "my boyfriend"

‌He's just so proud of it lol

‌And if you call him "my husband", he's ready to risk it all and just propose to you on the spot

‌Talking about that lmao

‌I feel like he'd be the fastest of the boys to get married

‌Six months into the relationship and he already bought a ring

‌He's just waiting for you to be ready

Masterlist I you'll probably like: what their love feels like

Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @butnotmontana @sheraayasherrecs

Divider by @bernardsbendystraws | images 1, 2 and 3