#so inconvenient for him to show up the day i swore off love

[brokenyouth]

after having experienced the highs and lows of a wlw situationship i felt like the opposite of the straight girls that say they'd have it way easier if they were into women instead

[wooyoungmybelovedhusband]

Can you please do a wooyoung smut where y/n and him having a fight at a family event than he make it up for her at home

Love you and your wonderful work 💗💗💗

Ik this took like forever to post but here I am lovely! 😭 I hope you like it tho :33

ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ

PAIRING: Husband! Wooyoung x f! Reader

SYNOPSIS: An argument with your husband always led to kissing and making up.

GENRE: Angst in the start, fluff and smut

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

WARNINGS/CONTENT: Couple arguments (it's not mentioned what the fight is about-), y/n and Wooyoung are rude to each other in the start, a little bit of crying, making up, praising, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, body worshiping (slightly)

   The atmosphere was tense, it was suffocating you, but obviously you couldn't get out of there. You could sense the rage coming off of Wooyoung as he started daggers to the back of your head which was quite perfectly visible through the mirror. 

   The both of you had visited your parents house out of the blue, and you currently stayed in your old bedroom. None of you wanted to cause the tension that was created at the moment, but the guilt of having to fight in front of your parents was eating you up. 

   “Will you fucking talk to me, Y/n? We can end this fight for the sake of us and your parents.” Although his tone was masked with anger, you could hear the desperation in him to want to be in your arms again, to hold you close just like he had two nights before. 

   Your shaky hands manage to fix the earrings onto your ears. Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked back at the man you swore in front of your family to love forever. “What is there for us to talk about? What do you want me to do, Jung Wooyoung?” Your voice cracked unbearably, and soon, unbeknownst to you, a lone tear escaped the corner of your eyes. 

   “There really isn't anything we can talk about? How is this gonna end up? Giving silent treatment to each other till the other person decides to give in and we never solve the damn argument? We're not fucking teenagers Y/n!” His voice raised with every single word he spat out, his eyes mirroring yours as desperate tears escape both of your eyes. 

   Before you could get a word out, there was a knock on your door that interrupted the both of you. The door opened to reveal your parents standing in the doorway, “Mom?” 

   She took a few steps into the room, I- um- was just wondering if the both of you were ready-” Before your mother could finish her sentence, Wooyoung unintentionally cuts in between. “Mom, We'll be leaving.” Hearing his words, your hand snaps towards him. “WHAT?”

   Your mother was caught off guard by your screech but decided it was best to not interrupt the two of you. “We- kinda have something to take care of back home, We apologize for the inconvenience.” You didn't have the opportunity to retort back to him once your eyes noticed the way he looked at you, desperately trying to get you to say ‘yes’, trying to make it up to you. 

   There was thick silence settled around the both of you, your hands twisting the fabric of your dress in your hands while you leaned back in the seat. There was not one exchange of words between you, while your glassy eyes stared out of the window. 

   Wooyoung sent quick glances your way, in hopes you did not notice, or at least that's what he thought. 

   You knew the guilt would be crawling up your neck for slamming the car door shut in front of his face before he could come up to you or for walking away without a word nor a glance towards him.

   Wooyoung clenched his fist due to that, he was hurt by all the cold actions you directed towards him for the past three days. But he had had enough of the cold shoulder, he needed to show you how much he loved you, how much he cared. 

   Thus, he follows you into the room, to be welcomed with the sight of you washing the last remnants of makeup on your face. He does not refrain from sprinting towards you to wrap his arms around you.”I’m so fucking sorry baby, I’ve been nothing but an asshole to you. But it hurts to have you like this, to have us like this- fucking hell- it feels like I suffered decades without having you in my arms although it has barely been a week.” 

   Tears soon well up in your own voice when you hear his voice break next to you, and you swiftly turn around in his hold, wrapping your arms around his torso. “I missed us too.” 

   There were no loud cries or sobs, just the tiny sniffles here and there, all while the both of you leaned against each other in the warmth of your own house. 

   Pulling away, you raise your head to meet your lips to his, your arms tightening around his neck. His hands around your waist pull you closer as he deepens the kiss. Your soft lips fit so snuggly against his plumpy lips like usual – you smile contently into the kiss. 

   The both of you slowly part away but his lips do not leave your skin as he trails down to your jaw. You huff out a long breath – which you had kept in for who knows how long – “Woo” Your hands caress his shoulder softly. Wooyoung hums against your skin, and he allows his tempted lips to leave a few wet kisses before he pulls away to be inches away from your face. 

   “Will you let me make it up to you, princess?”  His voice and tone was so gentle, so keen on just giving you anything you wanted. A relieved exhale leaves your lips again and your lips part in a smile. “Be gentle” The phrase was almost like a question rather than a request but Wooyoung nevertheless hoisted you up in his arms, with the softest smile painting his face. “Gonna show you how much I love you princess” He utters as he moves you to your own comfortable bedroom. 

   His arms slowly place you down on the mattress, so gentle that he probably mistook you for glass. The tip of his nose wiggles against your nose drawing a small giggle from you before he trails down to your cleavage. His hands had already sneaked under the straps of your minidress. 

   His fingers slowly push your dress down to your waist, hunching the cloth around your torso. “So fucking pretty” His lips pucker as the kissed down to your breasts, leaving behind a wet trails on your body. The soft contact had you whimpering in pleasure, the touch was neither long nor rough but rather they felt like a feather being drawn over your body – ever so softly and gently. 

   A loud whimper is all you could get out when his fingers finally make contact with your wet cunt over your soaked panties, it was barely a graze but your long ignored cunt was luring him for a taste – which he'd rather die than pass upon. 

   With that said, Wooyoung's face was in between your thighs within the span of a mere seconds, his fingers quite impatiently pulling off the slick covered fabric. His equally impatient tongue licks up a strip of your slick and a groan sweetly falls off your lips. Wooyoung beamed at the reaction, taking it as a cue to press his tongue against your lips, lapping against them like a starved man – which he quite literally was for you.

   It hadn't taken Wooyoung much long to have your back arching against the bed, your fingers intertwining with his hair strands as your lips left loud babbles. “W-Woo- fucking hell- gonna cum!” You barely got those words out of your mouth before his hands wrapped around your thighs, his nose pushing further into your clit making finish around his tongue in a second. 

   And Wooyoung took it all, his tongue slurping at your climax while you laid there for a few seconds. Make-up sex with Wooyoung might be different most of the time but one thing was sure – he gave you orgasms that had you brain-dead for a few seconds. 

   A small smile dances on his lips – content with his mind blowing eating out skills – before his hand reaches down to your hair, brushing it softly. “You okay, princess?” 

   You nod swiftly, coming down from your high while your panting still resonated throughout the room. “Want you- right now, Woo, please-” Your sentence was interrupted by his index finger pressing down on your lips – shutting you up. “Ah Ah princess, you need to lie back and enjoy alright? I'm gonna take my sweet time with you tonight.” 

   If you had the brain cells to think, you would be pissed at him for teasing you in your “vulnerable” state but all you could do right now was give him a nod.

   Wooyoung's fingers slid over your folds, “So worn out yet so wet already. I think you're ready for my cock already princess.” You barely think of speaking up in agreement when the clinking noise of his belt unbuckling sends excitement rushing down your spine. 

   You had to admit, Make-up sex with your husband equalized the adrenaline rush the jealous sex with him gave you. His soft words and touches always contradicted his rough and hard thrusting during this – and you savored it all up. 

   Wooyoung didn't need to scan your face to know your eager eyes looking down at your bodies as he slid his cock in between your pussy. Your lips threatened to give up and beg him to just stuff his cock in – until he did it. He pushed in between your inner walls ever so smoothly, all while your nails found comfort in digging into the flesh of his back. 

   There were loud groans from him while his – accordingly impatient – hips rammed into yours. His lips only curl up in a satisfied smirk watching the way your face twisted in pleasure. “if your slutty cunt wasn't enough, your fucked out expressions make me want to fuck the daylights out of you, princess.” 

   His words surely had your cunt tightening around his dick, his hips turning strained for a moment before they picked up a faster pace. “Got all weak for a few words, that you’re clenching around me baby?” 

   Wooyoung’s dick always had an impact on you – and that was to turn you into a mindless babbling mess. You could barely pick your brain back up to respond to his words when your hips shook from the sudden orgasm that hit you faster than a train. 

   You yelped and buried your face into his shoulders, while Wooyoung chased his own orgasm which was soon followed by yours thanks to your clenching cunt. 

   “I love you” The sudden confession escaping your lips felt surreal to the both of you, but Wooyoung was not phased a bit. “I love you too, princess.” Your eyes sparkled up at him, a silly smile painted all over your face. The same one that never changed ever since you met him. But they never failed to turn his cheeks flushed red. There may have been or will be a lot of arguments between the two of you – but it won't take long to Kiss and Make up. 

[milkyhub]

— [ KAZUHA AND HIS LITTLE STEPSIS ] +18

♡⃕ anon req. smth with kazu’s pretty little stepsis who does everything with him and listens to everything he says <3 they love each other so much, enough for her to ask him to take her virginity, and he does. praise and maybe size kink included? have a great day/night <3

♡⃕ note. but ofc 🥺 enjoy!! like and rb are appreciated!! <3 asks open for more reqs and thirsts! mdni, dark content ahead!! block if u don't like this type of content!!

♡⃕ cw. dom! kazuha, modern au, stepcest, masturbation, he's a perv, slight corruption kink, size kink, praising kink, unprotected sex, calls u baby once, slight possessive behavior, hint of breeding kink???, not proofread.

♡⃕ pd. this is one of the asks requested on my other account @itzbwmbi, currently shadowbanned. im using this one since it seems that the problem is not getting solved anytime soon. sorry for the inconveniences and the sudden change of accs.

stepbro!kazuha who from the day he started living with you swore to protect you from everything and fulfill all your wishes. you were so small and cute that he couldn't refuse anything you asked for, even if your whims were worth half his savings. your parents were so proud of your good relationship, leaving the care work to kazuha when they had to go out. in addition, with him you'd tell that you had a better time.

stepbro!kazuha who no matter how many years passed, he was always going to treat you the same, like his dear little sister. he'd do everything you wanted, whether it be watching a series together, playing video games, going out for a walk. anything you ask for, he'd have it done in less than a second, and all because of how much he loves and appreciates his sweet stepsis.

stepbro!kazuha who maybe loves you a little bit more than he should. now that you have grown up, he's realized how beautiful you truly are. you were literally so hot that his prying eyes kept roaming your body every time you turned around.

stepbro!kazuha who you show all your new dresses to, making it difficult for him to maintain eye contact when the clothes are too tight, making your curves and that nice ass more visible. he always has to look away, cheeks turning pink as his mind keeps looping over the image of your body in that short dress, wondering what's under it.

stepbro!kazuha who jerks off in his room thinking about his innocent little sister. feels so dirty and guilty but he can't help it :( he pumps his cock up and down imagining it was your tight little pussy instead of his hand. he knows that you are a good and innocent girl, and you have never thought anything obscene about anyone, and a great feeling of remorse surrounds him when he looks at you the next day.

“if you only knew the things i think of you...”

stepbro!kazuha who knows for a fact that you've never done anything sexual. knows that you are still a pure and clean-minded girl, not like him. and he wants it to be that way for a long time. the simple fact of thinking that another boy could steal that innocence fills him with rage and helplessness. you're his little sister, no one has the right to steal anything from you, except himself.

stepbro!kazuha whose eyes can not believe that one night you silently appeared in his bedroom, tears rolling down your reddish cheeks while you try to drown your sobs with the back of your hand. he's so surprised that he just watches your movements as you crawl over to his bed until you lie next to him. it doesn't take long for him to open his arms and give you a space on his chest to rest your head there, stroking your hair once you're positioned over him. you hug your stepbrother tightly, flatly refusing to look at him as you shyly whimper the next few words.

“please help me stop being a virgin. i want you to fuck me, please, kazu...”

you can't see it, but kazuha's eyes instantly light up and his heart seems to stop for a second, his breathing becoming erratic as he processes your words. he has many questions about it — why do you care so much about losing your virginity? why have you chosen him, your stepbrother, instead of any other boy? despite all his doubts, the answer that comes out of his mouth is clear and firm. “i'll help you. but you have to be quiet, 'kay? or they'll hear us and we'll have a big problem.”

you thought he was goingto refuse, and now that the opposite has happened, terror fills your body. this is wrong, so wrong, it's your own stepbrother, it's his bed, and your parents are at home, sleeping in their room. as you think of all the possible bad endings, you don't realize that kazuha has changed positions, and now his figure is on top of you, his hands on the sides of your head supporting his weight so as not to hurt you, slowly lowering himself to join his lips with yours for the first time, moving them desperately as if he's been wanting this for a long time.

stepbro!kazuha who gently pushes your panties aside, his long fingers brushing against your pussy making you shudder and hiss. unable to wait any longer, he takes his cock in his hand and pumps it a couple of times before lining it right up against your wet entrance. “i'll go slowly. tell me when you want me to stop.” his cock is huge at your eyes, so big you think it won't fit. you squeeze your eyes shut as the tip of his hard cock begins to work its way through your walls, stretching them oh so nicely. the way your pretty pussy tighten around his cock makes him gasp slightly. “just relax, or i won't be able to control myself.”

stepbro!kazuha who starts pounding into you once you are adapted to his size. it's now that he realizes how small your body is compared to him, but you're so cute, the feeling of corrupting you is making his cock twitch inside you. “fuck- you are doing so well, taking my cock s'good, baby.” he whispers in your ear. seeing how your pussy clench to his praises, he keeps whispering in your ear how well you're behaving, how well you're doing, and how well you've done in asking your reliable big brother to take your virginity before any other guy does it.

stepbro!kazuha who pushes your thighs towards your chest with his hand, giving him access to hit the most sensitive spot of your pussy with his cock. with his other hand he wipes away the tears of pleasure spilling out of your closed eyes, cherry lips red and swollen from the intense make out session kazuha has given you earlier. he was so needy of you, he just couldn't help it. he'll apologize later. <3

stepbro!kazuha who wants to cum inside you so bad but knows that would be problematic for you both. his slender fingers move in circles on your clit, accelerating your orgasm as his thrusts become sloppy because he too is getting closer and closer, the knot in his abdomen becoming more and more unbearable, needing to quickly get his cock out to end over all your stomach, warm white fluid staining your skin to the last drop.

stepbro!kazuha who apologizes if he has been very rough at some point, but your face denoting pleasure and exhaustion assures him that he's done a good job fulfilling his sister's wishes one more time. oh sweet, sweet little sister of his… how he wishes you'd ask him again to use his cock to relieve yourself whenever you needed it. :( you'll ask him again, right? after all, he wants you to use him as you please. <3

© 2022 milkyhub.

[sagau-my-beloved]

Do you think Venti would like the food from the real world? I think he’d get sick with fast food or something like that but if reader cooks for him he’d eat it. He’d eat anything that reader makes

Headcanons about sagau Venti with reader in the real world (food edition):

Honestly, that's such an interesting idea, I do think that there's a lot of overlaps with the food in his world and our world, so it doesn't take a whole lot of adjusting, but that being said-

Warnings: general Sagau, like literally nothing else

-

• Is kind of confused when he first gets to you and your fridge isn't just like brimming with ingredients and meals

• You tell him that you typically either get takeout or cook small meals for yourself to get by

• Since takeout itself does exist in different regions around Teyvat, he's more or less familiar with the concept

• But none of that prepares him for what you actually meant

• Is mildly horrified over how food is preserved, prepared, and just the overall lack of health in it all

• Like you don't really know where your food comes from, or what ingredients were put in to it, or where those ingredients come from—

• He could absolutely never eat fast food and feel well after, the first time he stayed in bed for like the entire day and complained to you constantly over how bad he felt

• You did feel bad about it, obviously his body just wasn't used to that kind of stuff

• Pretty much swore off eating anything that came wrapped in plastic, it just wasn't worth it

• All that strengthened your resolve to try cooking more, going out of your way to use more organic ingredients and actually put effort into making a healthier meal

• Now, he would eat anything you made, it really didn't matter what it was, what it was made of, how good or bad it tasted

• If it tasted absolutely horrible, he would just smile at you and thank you profusely for going out of your way

• If it made him feel bad afterward you wouldn't hear a single word about it

• Is really just very very appreciative when you attempt to make things more to his taste, he hates how much of an inconvenience he's being (but also secretly deeply enjoys the fact that you like him enough to go out of your way for him)

• He also takes up cooking himself, he's got all that time alone while you're off at work or taking classes perhaps

• You're gonna have to show him the basics on how to actually work a stove, all of it really does amaze him

• But before you know it, you're coming home almost every day to something made

• He is very quick to learn your preferences, mentally notes every critique or passing comment you've ever made

• If the food that you make is decent, or at the very least not absolutely terrible, the cooking responsibilities are split roughly 75℅ to 25℅ and you might have a playful argument over who's cooking that night

• "No way. I deeply apologize my muse, but I'm afraid your just going to have to let me treat you tonight." He says with a playful wink, one you can't help but smile at.

• Otherwise it'll probably be closer to 95℅ and 5℅, and as usual, he's absolutely happy to pick up the slack

• Also really loves cooking with you, showing off interesting techniques that he learned from his years of experience, you showing him weird cooking tricks that he never would have thought of

• Occasionally is sad over the lack of certain ingredients that either don't exist or aren't commonly used in your world

• Contributes a bit to his homesickness

• He has a few of his favorite recipes from Mondstadt memorized, and if you try to make them for him he might actually just die

• He just loves you so so much, and you're going out of your way when you already have so much that you have to do, and he wants to be the one that does everything for you!

• Every time you mention you had to get take out or fast food for lunch because of your tight schedule he internally panics

• What if it made you feel bad like him? Even if it doesn't you shouldn't be eating that stuff anyway

• Will actually start packing you lunch if it seems like you aren't doing it for yourself

• Also always leaves really cute notes

• Your co-workers and/or peers are now constantly hounding you about having a secret boyfriend that you haven't told them about

• I touched on this in my last set of headcanons, but he also really likes cooking breakfast since he's often the first one awake (Teyvat fried egg for the win)

• He does like going to slightly nicer restaurants where the ingredients are of a higher quality sometimes too

• The atmosphere was always a bit stifling and it could get rather expensive, but the food was good

• That was reserved for special occasions, he'd much rather have your food than some strangers anyway

• Since there aren't really a whole lot of dessert dishes in the Mondstadt region, he's absolutely amazed by the amount your world has

• But as a result of that lack of tolerance, he's also way more sensitive to sweet tasting things and a lot of things taste too sweet to him

• I headcanon that he's absolutely the type to scrape frosting off cake because of how unbearably sweet it is

• The first time he had ice-cream, his eyes practically sparkled

• Also, it's a personal opinion of mine that he would really like tiramisu because of the balance between sweet and bitter

• But that is also a very dangerous thing

• He has enough energy to run you into circles as it is, mix that with a sweet dessert that is soaked in coffee and you have yourself a recipe for complete chaos

• His first sugar crash is also pretty amusing, goes from living at three times the normal human speed to asleep in less than five minutes

• Wakes up more lethargic than you have ever seen him, along with a headache, and he swears he will never do it again (a total lie)

• It's all a learning experience like a lot of other things, he'll happily take the highs and lows, as long as it's with you

[sunghoons-mole]

Come Over

you’ve dealt with depression for a majority of your life, but your best friend Sunghoon was always there to help you through it. you were his person, after all - as he was yours. but he never told you how he wished for something stronger. 

GENRE // bff!park sunghoon x reader

WARNINGS // mentions of depression and anxiety. **DISCLAIMER:** all details are taken from my own personal experiences with mental illness and do not reflect or represent everyone with depression/anxiety. 

FROM THE AUTHOR // whew its been a while since i’ve been on here... life is hard and kicking my ass. that’s what inspired this, after all... with all my mental health issues, sometimes i wish enha would come hug me and tell me everything’s okay... so i can write about it and fall into the fantasy. ah. lets pretend for a bit, shall we? 

Do you need me to come over?

You stared at the text, balled up in your favorite blanket. He had sent it about fifteen minutes ago, and all you could do was stare at it. Your cheeks were dry from the tears you hadn’t bothered to wipe away, letting them soak into your skin. 

You wanted Sunghoon to come over more than you wanted anything in the world right now, but you were afraid. Afraid of being an inconvenience. Afraid of asking for help. Afraid of him seeing you this way.

He’d been there through your worst times, but this time was different. You didn’t leave your apartment; You barely left your bed, even. You hadn’t been able to shower yet today, and couldn’t bring yourself to make anything to eat. Everything felt terrible. 

After some time, you decided to respond. Your fingers felt heavy as you typed back.

No, I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me.

You clicked the phone off and rolled over, burying your face in the blanket and sighing. Maybe some more sleep will make everything go away. You didn’t even know how you were still tired after napping all day, but you felt as though you could sleep for another several days. 

Thoughts of the texts you had sent Sunghoon flooded your brain as you laid with your eyes closed. Was it a bad idea? Did you stress him out? He probably had more important things to do, other things to worry about. 

Just as you were drifting off, you heard the key to your apartment turning, and the door quietly being opened. The boots against the kitchen floor were a sound you knew all too well. 

All of a sudden your heart quickened as you remembered that you hadn’t showered. You were suddenly aware of how gross you felt, how you must smell strange, but it was too late. The footsteps down the hall that you had hoped for suddenly filled you with dread. 

A soft knock on the doorframe had you rolling over to face him. You swore you had never seen anything as beautiful as Sunghoon in the entrance to your bedroom, in sweatpants and a t-shirt, holding a bag of crappy fast food in one hand and a smoothie in the other. He smiled at you, a bright, loving smile, and kicked his shoes off, setting the smoothie down on your side table. 

“I will worry about you, actually.”

You felt tears coming for the millionth time that day, except this time they were caused by gratitude. 

Sunghoon’s heart almost split in two when he walked in the room, seeing you with tear-stained eyes and hair tangled. You looked so unlike the happy Y/N he knew and loved. He decided then and there he’d do whatever it took to return the smile to your face and the sparkle to your eyes. He needed it to keep himself going. 

“I got you a smoothie, and something to eat, so you better eat all of it. I assume you haven’t really eaten.” He shoved the bag at you and sat on the bed next to you, running a hand through his dark fluffy locks. You sat up and took the bag of food, suddenly hungry for the first time that day. Sunghoon grinned at you again, patting your leg reassuringly through the blanket. “Let’s watch something, yeah? Or do you want to talk?”

You chose to watch a show, handing him the remote. After a few episodes and some food, he turned to ask how you were doing. His eyes were a mixture of compassion and concern, and it made you want to lie, just so he wouldn’t look like he was ready to fall apart. 

“Hoon, thank you for this. I really needed it. I’m sorry if I took you away from anything...” You crumpled up the bag and set it aside, slurping up the last of the smoothie. It was absolutely delicious. 

“Of course, Y/N. Don’t ever apologize. Not for this.” He scooted closer and put his arm around you, rubbing your shoulder. 

You almost succumbed to his embrace before you remembered that you still hadn’t showered. You pulled away quickly, earning a confused look from Sunghoon. “Are you okay? Did I do something?”

Your eyes watered at his attentiveness. “No, Hoon, I’m sorry...” You buried your face in your hands, feeling awful once again. “If I’m being honest, I really need that. I just need someone to hold me, to make sure I don’t fall apart. Everything hurts right now. And I just want you to hold me, and I want to be okay.”

“Y/N, I’ll hold you as long as you want. I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” Sunghoon pulled you back, but you pushed a hand to his chest. “What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

He hoped it wasn’t him. He didn’t know how he’d deal with himself if he’d screwed up. 

“I haven't showered!” You sobbed, breaking down again. You covered your face again, trying to disappear. 

Then you heard a laugh. 

You peeked through your fingers at Sunghoon, who was giggling at you. He thought you were adorable in the way that you worried about such things, especially when you were having much larger problems. 

“What?” you whispered, sniffling.

“I didn’t really notice that you... hadn’t showered.” He grinned, pulling your hands away from your face. “And I don’t think I care all that much. You’re my best friend. I need to be here for you. Even if you stink.”

“Do I?” Your eyes widened. 

He laughed again, . “No, Y/N. You smell normal. Like a human. Now come here, please. I want to help you.” He silently prayed that you’d let him hold you. It was his favorite pastime. Oh, how he wished he could follow up with a kiss. But friends don’t kiss, do they?

You settled into his arms, sighing at the scent of him and his warmth. He wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back gently and setting his chin on top of your head. “Everything will work itself out, you know that?”

You closed your eyes, hearing the hum of his voice through his chest. “I’d like to think it will.”

“It will. I’ll make sure of it.” He moved his hand to stroke your hair, making you sigh again. It felt so nice to be held. You knew that at this moment, Sunghoon was the very glue that was holding you together, keeping you from falling apart and losing your sanity. You couldn’t believe you had told him he didn’t need to come over, because now that he had you were positive that there wasn’t any other way. 

“I love you, Hoon. You’re my best friend.” You sighed into him, giving him a little squeeze. You heard his heartbeat quicken.

“I love you, you know. I mean, there’s no way for you not to know.” He planted a kiss on top of your hair, and your heartbeat matched his. 

“Am I your best friend?” You felt childish asking.  “You are.”

You didn’t know why you were asking these things, just that the reassurance was helping to soothe your nerves. “And you love me like your best friend?”

Sunghoon’s breath caught in his throat. “Well, no...” 

You froze, as did his hand on your back. “You don’t love me as your best friend?”

Sunghoon settled his chin on your head again, and twirled a strand of your hair. The TV seemed so distant, and you weren’t even sure if the volume was on anymore. You couldn’t hear it, couldn't even process anything in the room that wasn’t your body or Sunghoons. 

He sighed, heavily. “Y/N, I’m afraid I love you a lot more than that.” 

~

Thanks for reading! With love, sunghoons-mole <3

[yanderemommabean]

Could we please get some MHA yandere purge villains? My evil babies need more love! Also I hope you're doing okay, I know you've been kinda sick lately <3

(Hi bean! I hope this is alright, I did my best but I still feel like it needs loads of more work 😞 hope you enjoy! - Mommabean)

Shigaraki never understood how someone could see love as something that makes you strong.

Loving someone, giving yourself over to someone without a second thought, giving everything you have and then some just to know they’re safe seems more like a weakness to exploit more than anything.

It’s not that He doesn’t believe in love, far from it. It’s just that he knows what it does to people. Love makes a man who would never hurt a fly turn into someone feral and unhinged. Makes a woman who would rather die alone than be hurt again, willingly take a bullet just to protect the one who holds her heart.

It’s a hell of a thing. It’s scary, actually. You never truly know when you’re in love until you find yourself doing the very things you swore you’d never do. There’s crushes, there’s lust, and there’s truly unhinged, unbridled, potent love.

When you have a crush you might open up doors and try to impress someone. When you’re in love you’ll set the streets on fire in their name so they know they’re always on your mind. Love is when you only care about what one person thinks, and will do whatever it takes to have them by your side for the rest of time.

It makes sense as to why he’s been so on edge and uncoordinated lately. He’s in love, and it’s fucking him up because all he can think about every other second is you, and your annoyingly sweet face. That sweet face and kind eyes that held no judgement as he spoke to you, the way you annoyingly laughed and teased him to make his cheeks turn pink, and how you stole his heart away from him without even trying.

At first he assumed it was a crush and he would get over it. Crushes are usually shallow, a person just liking the surface level of somebody and nothing more.

But then he got to see more of you.

He got to see you at your most vulnerable. He was blessed to see you angry and ready to punch somebody even though you would’ve lost the fight. He was lucky to see you crying and trying to keep the sorrow to yourself so you wouldn’t burden anyone with your problems.

Shigaraki was truly given a gift in those moments, because he saw what made you the most human.

Over the months, he’s fought hard not to show any signs of his feelings towards you. He doesn’t want you to think he has any favorites (he does) or to think you could get away with anything (you can. Just ask him and he’ll let you off the hook).

He’s waiting for the right moment. When he can sweep you off your feet and lock you away with him forever. Right now, the days are counting down, he just has to be patient. The beds all made, the locks are all set, the team knows the plan and back up plan if things go awry.

He just has to wait for the purge.

Any idiot could simply spew their feelings in hopes they won’t be immediately rejected. Shigaraki isn’t just anyone, though. He knows you’ll reject him due to not only his villain status, but because of your walls you so tirelessly keep up. You’re so scared of not being enough that you reject before you can be rejected.

It lessens the blow, he understands. It’s also why you self deprecate and hate yourself out loud, because then it beats everyone else to the punch. It hurts less when you’re the one who says it.

But once again, Shigaraki isn’t everyone. Tomura Shigaraki is a man who doesn’t fall in love easy and throws people away at the slightest inconvenience. He plans to help you see how much he loves you.

He plans to love you until you’re just as crazy as he is about you. He’ll love you until his eyes are bleeding and his voice is gone, and even then he’ll find a way to scream it to the world.

It’ll take time, he’s well aware, and he’s prepared for the fight you’ll put up. No way in hell would this be easy! But that’s another reason he loves you, you make him work for it. It’s a chase he’s come to be addicted too. Something sick in his bones that makes him out to be a predator chasing its prey.

When the purge sirens blare and your cornered by the psychos team, you’ll start to see just how weak love has made him. You’ll see just how desperate he is to have you in his arms until the day your bones turn to dust.

How can love make someone stronger? Really it only makes people crazy.

[hitnran]

UNHAPPY (gender neutral! reader)

how you deal with them when they’re unhappy

includes: chifuyu, sanzu, ran, rindou

note: you can view these as either their past or present selves

— CHIFUYU MATSUNO

For Chifuyu, it doesn’t take too much for him to really make him super unhappy. But often times, he does get annoyed at some things that just tick him off. Sometimes it’ll be something small, like someone cutting in line or someone stepping too close into his boundaries. At those times, he usually either lets it go or will confront whoever it is he has to deal with (verbally or physically, depends on the situation).

But nothing would make him more unhappy like the situation involving the death of Baji - someone who changed his life for the better.

For the first few days, it felt like the situation didn’t even occur. He would drag this out to days, weeks, months. You didn’t want to ask too many questions out of fear of being too insensitive, maybe this was just how he dealt with it. Though, you would always at least check up on him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” He would softly grin, assuring you that he was okay. Never had you heard him fully talk about it, and you wouldn’t force him.

Upon plans to visit his place and hangout, you figured that it wouldn’t hurt to show up earlier than usual. It wasn’t like he minded it either - more time to spend with you.

You gathered together both of your favorite snacks and drinks, the door was left open for you. You quietly snuck in, figuring he would be in his room, maybe reading a new manga or playing with game.

But upon peaking through the cracks of his opened room door, you found him sniffling and sobbing, staring down at something in his lap - Baji’s Toman uniform.

You felt your throat go dry and your chest ache to see him like this - so vulnerable about a topic that he swore he accepted, but you knew him better. You slowly pushed opened his door, falling to your knees and pulling his head close to you.

He cried harder, feeling weak to show this side of himself to you, but he couldn’t help it. Chifuyu tried letting out words like ‘I’m okay,’ but he failed and choked on his words.

“You..don’t have to keep it to yourself anymore, Chifuyu,” You comforted him, softly humming and running your palm over his head.

Once he is calm enough to speak, you both move to a more comfortable spot where he can talk. One of Chifuyu’s favorite thing is to lay down with you, so this isn’t out of the ordinary, but when he’s unhappy, he relishes this moment more than he ever has.

The feeling of your stomach raising up and down and the sound of your heart beating makes him feel at ease - it helps him know that you’re there with him and you’re all his.

When he’s unhappy, he really appreciates it when you give him his undivided attention and just listens to him talk. Chifuyu’s aware that some things are out of your control, but it’s the thought of having someone to share these moments of his life with that means more to him. Whether it’s him ranting about someone who annoyed him or him reminiscing back on his memories, at the end of his session, he will always shower you with attention to show you how much he is thankful for you.

— HARUCHIYO SANZU

There’s a lot that actually makes Sanzu unhappy. It might be more common than him actually being happy, but nonetheless, for the most part he doesn’t care. Sanzu simply does not care enough to worry about minor inconveniences. If it doesn’t get in the way of him and/or those he is loyal to, he isn’t going to waste his time and energy on even thinking about it.

Other times, if he’s just having a bad day, he’ll maybe blow things out of proportion and take those minor inconveniences as a way to just blame his bad day on. If someone really wants to get on Sanzu’s bad side though, all they’d have to do is either mention his siblings that he loathes so much or talk badly about those who he is loyal to.

You will immediately know when he’s unhappy when Sanzu doesn’t talk. He’s already wasting his time and energy to even worry about what’s making him upset, so he’s not going to add more by talking. Unfortunately, this even goes for you. He’d enjoy it if you would give him his space, allowing him to just let time deal with his temper.

Though, Sanzu greatly appreciates how patient you are with him. Never did he ask for you to do these small things you do for him, in fact, he thought it should be the other way around where it would be him giving you everything.

When he’s unhappy and unwilling to speak, you still put so much effort. His favorite food is ready and waiting for him, his clothes are free of wrinkles, and life just seems so much easier for him to deal with.

Depending on how serious the issue was, it’ll either take a few hours or a few days for Sanzu to speak to anyone else again, but you will always be the first. He’ll walk up behind you, ignoring whatever you’re doing and inhale your scent that he missed so much.

It’s really better to just not ask about what happened unless he brings it up himself, but he likes it if you’d just talk about yourself.

“What are you doing, doll?” His words are a lot softer around you, a big contrast to the personality he puts out towards others.

And as you begin to talk, Sanzu can’t help but soften his expression, nodding at every sentence and giving you his attention. He knows that he isn’t the easiest to deal with and he knows that it was nothing you have to deal with - you could ignore it and he would be fine with it. But your efforts will never go unnoticed, and he will be sure to make it up to you to the best of his ability.

— RAN HAITANI

It doesn’t take too much to make Ran unhappy. He’s unbothered by a lot of things and it may just be an older brother instinct to just deal with things as they go. If it’s things involving his career as a dangerous man, then it’s a little different. Things are in the moment and he has to make sure that he isn’t caught with his guard down.

If someone is bothering you, Ran will deal with it on the spot. If Rindou got himself in trouble again, he’ll deal with that too on the spot. He just doesn’t wanna waste his time.

Like Sanzu, it had to just have been a bad day where things kept piling up on him and he just had enough. He’ll immediately go and find you, not wanting to really project his problems on you, but more as a way to distract himself.

You hear a familiar set of feet creep your direction, your name is dragged out as Ran calls for you, wondering where you are.

“There you are,” Ran’s face visibly beams as he finally sees you.

He immediately walks over to you, grabbing your attention and leaving you to toss out whatever you were doing prior. Ran’s a touchy person, but never really ‘clingy.’ You’ll know when something happened that irritated him when he clings onto you more.

“Did something happen?” You curiously ask, looking straight at him.

He shook his head, nearly forgetting the reason why he was upset in the first place, “Let’s go out tonight or something. Tell me what you wanna do, and we’ll do it.”

If Ran is unhappy, he really just doesn’t wanna bother with it especially if it isn’t something he can immediately deal with. The best thing you can do is just ask if he wants to talk about it. Usually he’ll brush over it, wanting to at least let you in on the details of his life, but that’s about it.

His thought process is really ‘why spend time worrying about those things when I can just be with my partner?’ He doesn’t want to think of you as a distraction, but no doubt does he see you as a mood booster. You always make his day.

— RINDOU HAITANI

Rindou gets irritated a lot. One thing he hates dealing with his people. He just hates dealing with how ‘indecisive and stupid some of them’ can be as he says. But with his title, he’s kind of forced to have to consistently be around others, usually those who aren’t looking to be his friend.

When Rindou’s unhappy, he’ll find everything else annoying. If it someone who cut in front of him in line, suddenly everyone to even looks in his direction will piss him off. If his brother took the last of his favorite snack, suddenly he’ll start thinking about how he can step outside and beat the shit out of a person just for fun if he wanted to.

He tries his best to not snap at you, it’s nothing he wants to bother with if he makes you unhappy too. He’ll be very similar to Sanzu where he just wants to be left alone for the most part but only out of fear of taking his anger out on you on accident or saying something out of pocket due to frustration.

But even after just a few minutes of asking to be alone, Rindou will usually go and find you and just ask to silently do something together. He just doesn’t wanna be left alone with his own thoughts; it might drive him more crazy.

Rindou will make it super evident when he’s upset (he’s stubborn), but when he is, it’s good to just be patient with him as he’ll most likely come back and drape his body over you, silently asking for attention.

Take off his glasses and kiss his eyelids, play with his hair and his fingers, tell him you love him and he’ll melt. His face is left with an expression he wouldn’t dare show anyone else, but nonetheless, he’s grateful to you and he immediately forgets what upset him in the first place.

“Thanks,” He lowly murmurs into your neck. You feel the heat from his ears go hot. “For dealing with me.”

[daisydaisybilly]

That fic on Colin Bridgerton was everything!!! Please do an Benedict x reader where he paints you in secret but the reader finds out and Benedict confesses his love <333

work of art | b.b

   MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN

title: work of art  pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader summary: you and Benedict bond over art and fall in love, though it takes you time to realise   warning: swearing, angst, fluff and not much else word count: 2.5 k A/N: thank you so much for the request! i really enjoyed writing this and hope you like it!

Even though you had your own flat next to Benedict’s you preferred sitting in his while you worked. You would sit on the pile of cushions on the floor with you note pad across your lap to draw but, in the end, you’d give and watch Benedict while he worked.

His work was better than yours anyway. And when he’d paint or drew, he got this look on this face, a look that made you fall more in love with art, more in love with him.

“you have your own work, I believe” he grinned.

You smiled at him looking away, “I rather watch you. You know I struggle to draw without a live model” you groaned closing you pad.

He smiled at you nodding before returning to his work.

You really did love him, the kind of love that made your gut hurt. The love you felt was inconvenient at most times, you’d be drawing a live model and when it came to the eyes you would draw his eyes. Then you’d stare at the drawing, at those eyes.  After the sixth time you gave up on portraits and stuck with landscapes or ones where the face couldn’t be seen.

Before you met Benedict, art was just something that made you stand out among your four older brothers and two older sisters. You did enjoy to paint and draw and going to all the galleries and the art shows but they never really sparked joy until the day Benedict came into your life.

You remember it clearly. You were stood studying the painting ‘Venus with a Mirror’, the roman goddess of love and beauty. It was a masterpiece something you could never dream of doing yourself.

“quite the painter, wasn’t he?” someone said behind you.

“he was” you agreed.

Then you turned around and saw Benedict and all the art in the room was forgotten.

“Benedict Bridgerton” he bowed his head.

You smiled feeling dizzy, “y/n  y/l/n”.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you m y/ln. Always a pleasure to meet a titan fan” he move to stand next to you.

“I don’t think they’re too hard to find” you laughed looking at the painting too.

He laughed along and you swear it sounded like music.

You carried on meeting him once a week, at first it was just art shows and museums but then it turn into showing each other your art then just having dinner together. And now you had neighbouring flats.

“oh hell” you jumped up collecting your things, “my brother will be here soon to take me home for dinner. I need to get back to my flat before he comes”.

“and why can’t he just pick you up here?” Benedict asked looking away from his work. Paint was covering his hands and had splattered on his shirt.

“oh yes” you clapped your hands together. “Brother, I know papa pays for my flat to do my art but I don’t actually use it, instead I sit in my friends flat and watch him do art instead. What? you think something is going on? You think we’re having an illicit affair?! Where did you get that idea?” you exclaimed acting the conversation out.

You swore Benedict blushed but you couldn’t be sure. “well that doesn’t happen” he coughed.

“thank you for clarifying our relationship for me, Benedict” you chuckled. You opened the door then paused when he called your name.  

He cleaned his hands with a cloth close by, “will I see you at the Astin’s party tonight?”.

You sighed. “unfortunately. Mother is convinced this is the year I marry” you rolled your eyes.

That struck his heart, you marrying someone was painful enough knowing it could be soon was worst.

“you better not leave me hanging” you smiled bring his attention back to you.

“I wouldn’t dream of it”.

“I’m taking that as a promised Benedict Bridgerton”.

You smiled at him one last time before leaving.

Benedict watched the door shut behind you. He was truly fucked. How he manged to actually get work done while you sat there was a mystery, he could hear your soft breaths feel your e/c eyes on him.

As long as you were a part of his life then he would be happy, content. Of course he knew a day would come where you’d fall in love with someone else and marry them. And it might just break his heart. He thought of what you said, how your mother thought this was the year for you. knowing he would lose you was pain enough being there to see it would feel like death.

Once Benedict was sure you weren’t coming back, he pulled out his secret project he had hidden behind some old paintings, it was proving to be impossible to finish because you were always by his side. He would spend the night at the flat but that would equal questions from his mother.

But here he was alone.

This was his heart drew bare. You. the day he met you actually, he still remembered it clearly. The sun light had pooled in through the sky light and made you look like an angel. He had spent many sleepless nights reliving the moment in his mind. The moment you met his eyes and smiled. Remembering the memory again and again felt like his own personal drug.

He knew you didn’t and would never love him back so he agreed to love you in silence. He poured all his love into this, every brush stroke was a piece of his love, his soul.

 You sat in front of the mirror the mirror looking at yourself. Your hair was done. You had your best outfit on. everything was perfect but something, something was missing. What if you did meet the person you would marry. two of your brothers and one sister were married already, why wouldn’t it be your turn. But it wasn’t the life you wanted.

A married life being the perfect partner doing whatever is asked of you. you wanted a life full of colour and art with Benedict by your side. Benedict. A smile took over your face, you loved him so much. He was so close to your reach but so far away at the same time.

You met your own eyes. “I love you Benedict. I always have and I will for the rest of my life” you whispered to yourself. The thought of losing him had become too much, you battled with yourself the whole way home and the whole times as you dressed. If you were going to lose him let it be because you told him the truth. Not when he fell for another.

Maybe just maybe the feels the same.

You had only been at the party for an hour and you had already met three suitors your mother had picked out all who were closer to her age than yours, but like  she said you couldn’t afford to be picky. You smiled and nodded as whatever their name was spoke, over their shoulder you spotted Benedict stood in the shadows with a bottle of wine in his hands. He pointed to the room behind him.

“I’m sorry” you cut them off mid-sentence, “if you would excuse me” you smiled walking away.

When you walked into the room you found Benedict sat on the floor in the dark. “come sit here don’t want to risk being caught” he waved you over.

You sat next to him reaching out of the bottle. “hope you got the good stuff. I need it”.

“not found your perfect match yet?” he laughed.

You nearly chocked on the drink. “god no. they were all old” you laughed. You took another swig and sighed. “she wants me to be the perfect child but I can’t be” you lent your head against the wall.

“we could run away to France” he said so seriously it shocked you.

You looked at him feeling breathless. You opened your mouth to speak, this could be the moment to tell him. tell him and run away to France and never look back. Your nerves ran out last minute. “I feel like dancing will you dance with me?”.

You jumped to your feet mentally kicking yourself for saying something so dumb. Benedict felt the last bit of hope he had die when you changed the subject so fast. He joined you standing in the middle of the room. If this is the only way he could be close to you he would take it.

You stood in front of each other, looking into his eyes.

Silently you both got into the right place. You could faintly hear the music playing from the main room. He put his hand against your back, you supressed a shiver. No one said anything while you danced.

Your eyes met his and it that moment you were breathless.

You were so close now. After a shaky breath you noticed you had stopped moving and were looking at each other now. His eyes fell down to your lips for a second before they met your eyes again.

You took a wobbly step back and exhaled. “my mama will be looking for me”.

“y/n” he stepped forward.

“she’ll go mad too, I left whatever their name was standing there” you laughed moving even more away from him. You left the room as fast as you could.

He was to shocked to follow after you. Just a few moments ago he was so close to you, touching you. He wanted to kiss, god how he wanted to kiss you and he thought maybe you wanted to kiss him as well but you walked away.

He wanted to paint. Every time he was hit with reality, he pained you, imagining you did love him back. It was a dream but he was all tied up in it. He was tied up in you.

He took a deep breath, he left the room, he left the whole building, not looking at anyone as he did. He wanted nothing more than to see you again but you would probably be with someone else, maybe evening falling in love.

It hurt to leave Benedict alone. But you were reading to much into things. He didn’t want to kiss you, why would he. You had just made him uncomfortable. You were battling with yourself when you saw Benedict walked through the main room to the doors.

The rest of the room seemed to disappear. You could only see him walking away from where you left him. Had you made him that uncomfortable he had to leave, he didn’t even say goodbye. You wanted to run after him and admit everything, give him your hand, heart, give him anything he asked. He just had to ask you.

“stay here” you mother hissed down your neck.

“I need to go” you muttered eyes locked with the door Benedict had walked through.

“No. you need to stay here and get a match” she snapped spinning you around so you were facing her. “Do you think you can just keep doing what you’re doing? Spend your day and night doing your ridiculous painting like that will get you anywhere”.

You were speechless. You knew no one took your art seriously but it hadn’t been said to your face. you had spent years with your back to a door keeping the truth out. “I don’t care” you started walking away.

“y/n” you didn’t listen as your mother called your name.

You didn’t care that people were looking from her to you.  

You only cared about Benedict.

Benedict knew he was in for it when the got home and his mother saw his dress shirt was covered in paint, but right now he felt calm. You were in front of him, well the painting version of you was. He was almost done and soon this version of you would be gone too.

Apart of him hoped that his feelings would go too. It would make things easier if they did but who would he be if he didn’t love you. He had loved you for so long it was buried into his bones.

You knew Benedict like you knew yourself, you were so like sometimes it felt like your souls were one but they had be halved to make two people.

He would be in this flat painting you hoped he was waiting for you. you had enough of being scared and keeping everything locked up, you would tell him how you felt and face whatever followed. Once you reached the building you ran up the stairs as fast as you could, hating past you and Benedict for getting rooms on the top floor.

You nearly tripped up multiple times catching yourself last minute every time. You were gasping for breath once you reached the top. When you could breathe again you ran down the hall, all the rooms you passed were filled with laugher and music. How you wished you were apart it.

You stopped in front of his door. You put your hand against the wood and listened. You could hear him muttering under his breath, a brush quietly working away. You smiled at the picture in your head, maybe you’d paint it one day of all the things you could pictured this one was the clearest.

“Benedict I shouldn’t-“ you started as soon as you entered the room but stopped when you saw him.

You were right, he was painting you just didn’t think he would be painting, you.

Benedict dropped the paint brush to the floor. He looked from you to you, mouth open wide. “I can explain”.

You still stood in the doorway holding the  door open. Mouth wide open. He came closer guiding you into the room so he could shut the door. “I don’t understand” you murmured. You looked to his worried face. “why are you painting me?”.

He helped you sit in your usual spot.

He took a deep breath reaching for your hand, you let him take it. relief washed through him. “its simple” he said looking into your eyes.

“is it” you breathed.

“I love you”

You mouth fell open again as you goggled at him. “you love me?”.

“I do and I understand if-“ he looked away from you so he wouldn’t have to face your rejection. But he was interrupted when you wrapped your arms around his neck. You both fell to the floor in a heap.

You kissed him hard on the lips, putting all your hopes into one kiss. You pulled back and looked down at him. “I love you too” you smiled feeling so much joy.

He didn’t say anything only kiss you again. his hands travelled up your back to your neck. You stayed there kissing him until it felt like your lungs were burning. You gasped, “you wouldn’t believe how long I wanted to do that” he laughed.

You traced his cheek bone, “probably as long I have”.

He smiled and it felt like the sun was risen. “will you ever stopped wanting too?”

“never” you whisper before you kissed him again and again and again, and you would until time stopped.

[1kook]

espn & bdsm

this is part 6 of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.  warnings; smut (18+) in the forms of brief femdom, handcuffs, nipple clamps, blindfolding, flogging/use of a riding crop, soft dom kook, cunnilingus, spitting, unprotected but passionate, degradation, as always it starts horny n then turns into I love u kink miscellaneous; kook has a swollen ankle so idk how he did all this, jk abuses the fuck outta pet names part 7, revenge gone wrong tbh, this was honestly a beginner’s intro to vanilla bdsm word count; 12.7k

notes; this is like… a healing fic… for the part before lol. also i did not know what was going to happen next as I was writing. anyway entire smut scene was based off THIS bad boy ur welcome fellas and the Jungkook described here is from in the soop episode 2... cutie... yes every single 1 of those words is a link

lmk what you think! a simple ask goes a long way <3

You're at the nail salon with Doyeon when she first mentions it.

“Have you ever, like,” she pauses, making a vague, swivel gesture with her head. You furrow your brows and she sighs. “Topped him. Have you ever been the one to take control?”

Your nail artist blushes, furiously filing away at your nails until the most perfect stiletto shape stares you back in the face. “Oh. Not really,” you admit, wiggling your wet toe nails around in the styrofoam flip flops issued by the salon. “I mean, sometimes I talk him through it.”

Doyeon snorts. “Babe, talking him through it and being the boss are two completely different things,” she says rather dryly, seemingly unbothered by the fact your two nail techs are being subjected to this more than intimate conversation. But you’ve had weirder talks with Doyeon in public; this doesn’t phase you. “Listen,” she says suddenly, dropping her voice down to a whisper that has you leaning closer to hear her. “You know how I’m a member of that site, right?”

You nod. “Oh yeah— Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide!, right?” She kicks your shin, but the jab is muted by the bottom of her own styrofoam flip flop.

“Yeah, just tell everyone here my credit card number while you’re at it,” she hisses. Her anger fades soon enough. “Well, they’re always sending me all sorts of freebies for my devoted patronage,” she explains. She quirks her lips to the side, throwing one brief glance at the blushing nail artists in front of you. Eventually she seems to come to a conclusion. “Long story short they sent me some cuffs and I’m gonna give you them.”

Your jaw drops. “Woah, really? I don’t know… Don’t those usually run kinda pricey?” you ask tentatively. You’re trying to play it off, act like this isn’t something you want, but the reality is so much worse.

The minute the word cuffs had slipped through her lips it’s like a door opened before your eyes. A big, wooden door with chains strapped across it and a padlock you swore you’d never open.

Somewhere in your mind, you had always convinced yourself handcuffs in bed was something you’d like to have done to you. But, because she was your best friend and by extension a personified version of all your freakiest, often filtered, thoughts, it was like Doyeon had reached straight into your cranium and extracted your most secret fantasy— and that was Jungkook in handcuffs.

Your nail artist pats your hand, motioning you to head over to the drying station. Before you can be separated from Doyeon, you whip around to throw her one desperate look. “I have never wanted anything so bad in my life.”

She cackles loudly, easily garnering the attention of every employee and nail enthusiast in the salon with the evil witch vibes she exudes.

Truth be told, your argument with Jungkook had brought upon a newfound appreciation for him. Weird to say, considering you had wanted to kill the dude when it had originally happened. But the great thing about you and Jungkook was that you were flexible people— both in bed and out. A few long conversations later and you had reached the root of the problem.

And that root was your apparent lack of communicating when something was wrong. It was weird to think that anything could ever be wrong when Jungkook was involved. He was your honeybun, sugar plum, pumpy-umpy-umpkin. Your sweetie pie, for lack of better wording, and he could do no wrong—

—is what you’d like to say. But if there’s anything you’ve learned in the past year of dating Jungkook, it’s that perfection was a made up belief that revolved around the idea that someone’s flaws couldn’t possibly be a good thing. And as you’ve come to realize, Jungkook wasn’t the perfect gentleman you’d initially chalked him up to be. He was human, just like you, with his own list of worries and thoughts, and sometimes those thoughts manifested into flaws. They could be ugly or they could be beautiful, but at the end of the day, they all made Jungkook into the person he was— and you loved that person. Disgustingly so.

You had your moments, and he had his. Everything would not always be sunshine and rainbows for the two of you, but it was fine so long as you learned to play in the rain and stomp in the puddles.

Still.

You were you.

A slightly mean, slightly conniving, petty ass human who had been plotting his revenge since the day the two of you made up. I mean, you weren’t actually just going to let him get off the hook like that, were you? He had saved himself last time with a gooey, heartfelt apology and confession, followed by some extraordinary dicking down that had left you Naked and Afraid for three days after.

But you weren’t that easy! No, ma’am. You had to let him know that some gorgeous demon dick was not enough to satisfy you after a fight like that.

Jungkook was in for a desperately needed reality check, one that jingles in your purse when you step out of the Uber that drops you off at his place. You know he’s home because his front light is on, and also because he’d texted you that he was watching some soccer match on tv tonight. He’s a pretty big fan, especially of the club playing tonight, so you decide it’s a perfect night to strike.

Your copy of his key slips right into the keyhole. Your slippers are in the same place they always are, neatly set off to the side right by the stairs. He’s not in his living room, undoubtedly the most perfect place to watch any type of sporting event with that huge Jumbotron of his. The damn thing made it feel like you were in the stadium itself.

There’s a quiet hum coming from upstairs. You creep up the steps, carefully rounding the corner at the landing until you’re staring right into his dimly lit bedroom.

The way Jungkook’s got his bedroom set up is so that you can look directly at his door from the bed, terribly inconvenient for when that sleep paralysis demon hits in the middle of the night and you’re left staring into the dark hallway. He’s snuggled comfortably over his sheets, about three pillows supporting his back. The light of the tinier, more acceptable television he keeps in his room is dancing across his features in bright shades of green. You almost throw yourself onto his mattress like a starfish until you spot the carefully placed foot on the bed.

“What the hell did you do?” you blurt. A wrong move, considering he hadn’t seen you yet and your sudden appearance makes him jump nearly ten feet into the air, almost knocking down the bag of ice that sits on his ankle. “Oh my god, it was that damned Pilates class, wasn’t it?” you fret, rounding the bed until you’re on his side.

“Oh hey,” he says as if you’re not currently pulling the first eight seasons of Grey’s Anatomy to the forefront of your head to treat him. “When’d you get here?”

“Cut the crap, who did this to you?” you ask, sitting beside him with the utmost care. You drop your bag off to the side, the loud clatter of the inside contents vaguely registering in your head. The ice pack comes off easily, revealing a relatively okay looking ankle save for the slight swell towards the more medial aspect of it.

Jungkook takes the moment to sit up, joining you in your inspection of his injury. “No one,” he answers, using his new position to drop a kiss against the side of your head. “I fell off the ladder helping Mrs. Jung across the street.”

You choke. “You fell off a ladder?” you squawk, eyes wide as your gaze shifts from his ankle to his entire body.

He places a hand on your shoulder, “babe, I was on like the third step. It was one of those old wooden ones,” he explains with a nonchalant shrug. “The step just happened to snap on my way down.”

You scoff. “That old lady is out to get you,” you warn him. “Remember the time she almost had you plug in those burnt out Christmas lights for her? The ones that would have electrocuted you to death.”

Jungkook laughs, settling back into his stack of pillows. “In her defense, she’s old,” he offers. He’s wrapped up in a black hoodie, fluffy bangs parted down the middle. He’s got on some blue shorts, a huge difference from his usual dark-toned clothing. He looks so good and warm, and you’re suddenly hit with the fact you can’t possibly handcuff this poor, injured angel to his bedpost and ride his cock into the sunset. “You didn’t tell me you were coming over.”

You deflate, wild fantasies thrown out the window. “Yeah, well,” you sigh, ditching your pants and climbing over him until you’re snuggled into his side. “Wanted to show you my nails.”

It’s a lame excuse. But he buys it, so.

“They’re cute,” he says, taking your hand in his. He turns your hand over, inspects your pretty new acrylics like he actually has any idea how much they cost or how sexy they look. He raises your hand to his face, pressing a smooch against your knuckles that has you heart thumping embarrassingly loud in your chest. God, you hated this fool.

You turn your nose up at him, like you’re some snooty rich girl who couldn’t give him the time of day. Except it’s not like that, and Jungkook knows.

“What’re you watching?” you ask instead.

He’s got that stupid dopey smile on you, the one that takes one nudge against his side to snap him out of. “Ah, just the game.”

You squint at the screen. “Is this Fox Sports?” you ask in disgust.

He pinches your side. “This is ESPN,” he corrects. “And you don’t know shit about sports channels,” he points out. “So sit this one out.” You give in with a huff, cuddling closer into his side while trying to jostle him as little as possible. Jungkook seems to have no deeply rooted concerns about his injured ankle if the way he hauls you into his arms is any indicator. “How did nails with Doyeon go?”

“You know, the usual,” you respond, idly toying with one of the strings on his hoodie as your eyes focus on the little figures running across the screen. He hums, gesturing for you to elaborate. “Talked about sex, how much better than you at life she is, some more sex.”

He scoffs at that. “Doyeon is not better than me, and I have a whole trophy case to prove it.”

“Okay, but have you singlehandedly Twitter beefed with an entire sorority in your freshman year of university and won?”

He frowns. “No.”

You give him a look, one that says stand down now unless you want to lose to my best friend and get your feelings hurt. Jungkook understands. “Anyway,” he announces, turning his attention back to the screen with you. You think his team might be winning—you vaguely remember seeing him wear a similar jersey once—so he’s pretty relaxed for now. “They’re doing pretty good considering they just lost their main striker.”

You have no idea what that means. “Who? Messi?”

Jungkook knows you don’t know. “He doesn’t even play in this league,” he explains anyway.

“Oh, I saw him trending on Twitter last week. Thought he died or something. Whole time it was just a bunch of soccer nerds crying about him leaving his team.”

He laughs. “You should be a sportscaster,” Jungkook decides after your ever-so-eloquent recap, tucking his head cutely against your shoulder. There was a study once that claimed the incessant need to squeeze a baby’s cheeks or hug puppies tightly was actually the innate human response to kill something they felt threatened by. Oddly enough, you find yourself thinking of that as Jungkook’s citrusy shampoo floods your nostrils.

“Oh, speaking of Doyeon,” he says suddenly. “Did you give her my address? I got a weird package from that store she likes that I genuinely don’t remember ever ordering.” You frown, sitting up slightly until you can look at the side of his face, the cute mole on his cheek calling your name.

“What?” you ask. “Was it in her name?” Jungkook nods. You’re about to tear the roof off his house and go hunt that evil wench down when realization dawns on you. “Oh, no, yeah I gave her your address. My mom stayed over last weekend and Doyeon needed to order something nasty. Guess it got delayed until now.”

Jungkook nods and then doesn’t say much else, which is weird considering the circumstances. You expected him to gently scold you for carelessly giving the psycho that was Kim Doyeon his address, but she’s been here a few times to pick you up, even came over for beer night once. She probably knew it anyway, but you still expected some type of reaction of disapproval from him.

Something’s off, and you know better than to leave it at that. You poke his cheek, right where that mole you’d been eyeing was. “Did you open her package?” you ask, grin slowly consuming your features at the fact Jungkook was apparently a mail snooper.

He looks away. You laugh. “Oh my god, you did,” you cackle, sitting up beside him to get a good look at the blush growing on his cheeks. “What did you see?”

“Nothing,” he huffs, pretending to be overly invested in his soccer match again, but that ship died the moment you stepped into his room. “Babe, I can't see the match.”

You roll your eyes, purposefully shifting in front of him so he’s forced to look at the maniac look in your eyes. “What did you see, Jeon Jungkook, and are we going to steal it from her again?”

His cheeks bloom impossibly darker at that. “No!” he coughs, pointedly avoiding your gaze.

But your curiosity is at its peak now, his reactions only exacerbating it. You grab him by the shoulders, hands balling the material of his hoodie as you give him one firm shake. “What did you see,” you demand.

“Oh my god,” he gives in. You release him and he flops back onto his pillow mountain. “They were things,” he explains slowly, cheeks rosy. “For your, y’know,” a vague gesture over his chest.

You frown. “A bra?” you guess. “I’m not gonna lie, Kook, think I just lost a little respect for you.”

“No!” he huffs. “They were… little clamps. For your nipples.”

If this was a cartoon, you’re almost certain you’d be that character with the object in question in their eyes, heart fluttering in your chest at the words that leave his mouth.

Immediately, two things become obvious to you.

One, Kim Doyeon was a bigger freak than you’d expected who obviously dabbled in an assortment of trades. Clamps, your brain screams, overwhelmed with the image that appears in your head, the one that has a shiver running straight to your core. You would have to thank her for this gracious, unintentional gift she’s bestowed upon you.

Two, you’re gonna have to write her the best, most plausible apology letter tomorrow when you inform her those clamps have been lost in the mail, never to be seen again. Or you could just straight up tell her you snatched them up the moment you found out what they were, but you doubt that’ll go over well.

Jungkook groans. “You have that look in your eye,” he points out. You snap your attention back to him. “And I just wanna say in advance that I don’t think i can give you the fun night you deserve, baby,” he apologizes, motioning towards his still swollen ankle.

Something distinctly mean switches on inside of you.

You flash him a sweet smile that has him letting down his guard. You lean forward, pressing a soft peck to his cheek as you climb down the bed towards your forgotten purse that’d been resting on the floor until that point. “Who said I needed you to have fun?” you throw over your shoulder, carefully slipping Doyeon’s first gift close to your body so he won’t see.

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed look. “Really,” he says dryly, “you think you can have fun without me?” He almost sounds cocky, as if the idea of you even enjoying yourself the teensiest bit without his help seems unfathomable.

You grin, padding over to his bedside, where you carefully pick up his hand. You mirror his actions from before, pressing a sweet kiss against his knuckles that makes that conceited look slip off his features for a second, eyes soft.

Click.

Jungkook frowns. “What the—“ before the sentence can leave his mouth you’re lunging forward, wrestling his hands above his head, until they’re both secured at his headboard by the soft cuffs Doyeon had given you that afternoon at the salon. Jungkook’s wide eyes stare back at you, briefly leaving to glance up at the silver chain that wraps behind one of the rungs of his headboard. “Babe,” he says slowly. “What the fuck.”

You beam at him, leaning down to snatch a pillow from beneath him so he’s better positioned, leaning back more. “So cute,” you gush, taking in the way his raised arms have the hem of his hoodie lifting at the waist. There’s a faint trail of hairs around his belly button that disappear beneath the elastic of his shorts. “Do you like them?”

Jungkook blinks. “Baby,” he says a second time, much slower and a little too calm for your liking. It almost gets swallowed by the roar of the fans on TV. “What is this?”

You ignore him, scampering around his room until you find the hot pink Sexuality Unleashed packaging peeking out from beneath his bed. Sure enough, it’s in Doyeon’s name but his address. A whole complicated mess just for some nipple clamps she’ll never see again. It’s what’s inside anyway, not that you thought Jungkook was lying, but there’s something about the actual, carefully wrapped packaging that makes your heart and pussy flutter.

“Oh! Aren’t these the prettiest things?” you exclaim, whirling around to where Jungkook is shaking up a storm with his cuffs, pout growing on his features the longer you leave him there. The ice pack slips off his ankle, falling onto the comforter beside him from all his movement.

Jungkook doesn’t seem the least bit interested in the silver nipple clamps in your hands, too busy trying to free himself from the sudden trap you sprung on him. “Sweetheart, we can play with those tomorrow, alright?” he tries, relaxing his arms and finally looking your way. There’s a frustrated furrow to his brows, one you rarely see but adore very much. “Just undo these cuffs for me, yeah?”

You tilt your head to the side, placing a hand on the inside of his calf that you trail all the way up as you move to stand beside his hip. His thighs flinch at your touch, tensing when you stop just before the crotch of his pants. “Mmm, don’t think so,” you smile, dropping the thin chain beside him.

Your shirt goes first, peeled over your body until you’re left standing in your bra. It’s nothing too special this time, just your average run of the mill comfort bra hugging your chest. But that doesn’t really matter, especially not with the way you’re hoping things play out tonight. You’d discarded your jeans a few moments prior, so the shirt joins them on a pile on his floor.

As much as he tries to act irritated by your refusal to release him, there’s a slow stirring beneath his shorts. It’s emphasized by that bright blue material, cock swelling as he watches you take off your clothes. “Baby,” he warns, possibly for the last time. But you won’t know unless you push some more, you tell yourself, placing one knee on the edge of the bed, the other thrown across his lap.

“Wow,” you marvel, picking the chain up once more. Jungkook shifts beneath you, half hard cock brushing against the cleft of your cheeks. “Don’t you wanna see what it’s like, Jungkookie?”

He says nothing, watching you with solemn eyes that leave no room for reading him. Behind you, the game commentator is chattering up a storm.

Doesn’t matter, especially not when this flimsy metal had you so completely hypnotized. You reach behind yourself, unsnapping your bra with one fluid motion that has the cups falling onto your lap, soft chest on display for the man before you. Your breasts spill out slowly from their cage, pretty hardened buds slowly coming into his view. They make him pause his fussing, half-lidded gaze falling to the swell of your chest hungrily. His hands jerk, the cuffs doing their job of keeping them there.

You grin, placing a hand on his chest, over his hammering heart. “Do you wanna see me wear them?” you croon, tugging the material of his hoodie up his stomach, until your thighs are sitting directly on his tiny waist, thin thong just over his belly button. You trail your hand up, letting it brush up the side of his neck and bury into his scalp. You give an experimental tug that has his eyes squeezing shut. “Yes or no, Jungkookie?”

He’s being a huge brat for you, eyes scrunched up together like the sight of you enjoying yourself sans his touch is unimaginable. Another tug of his hair and he’s exhaling shakily, a quiet, “yes,” slipping past his lips.

The chain drops onto his chest with a quiet thud, shocking him enough to blink his eyes back open. Releasing your hold on his hair, you sit back on his lap, towering over his fidgety body like a goddess at a temple, him the lowly worshipper beneath you.

Your hands crawl over your body, starting somewhere around your waist. The glide up over your tummy, caress the underside of your breasts teasingly. Sure Jungkook knew your body well, but you knew your body best. One hand rubs teasingly over your breast, palm pressing down slightly against where your nipple lies, while the other drops down between your thighs, slowly grinding against your mound.

“Look, Jungkookie,” you gasp, body twitching at your own hands. You take a hardened nub between your fingers, rolling it back and forth until it’s standing at its peak. “I can do it without you,” you tease, rolling your hips against him slowly. The thin material of your thong does nothing to save you from the delicious swell of his cock against you. “F-Fuck,” you whimper, circling a finger over your clit. “It’s, it’s even better.”

His restraints jiggle against the bed frame, an obvious look of distress crossing his features. “No,” he huffs out a whine, tugging at the cuffs as you slowly unravel on his lap. They don’t give, no matter how much he pulls. You know he’s holding back, afraid of damaging his headboard, and you take advantage of the fact as you move to roll both nipples between your fingers. He groans harshly, jaw tight. “Hate you,” he hisses, hips wiggling beneath you. “Hate you, hate you.”

You breathe out an airy chuckle. “R-Really?” you ask, trembling hands finally reaching back for that second gift of the day. Your breath is shallow, so thoroughly wound up from your own playful hands, and you tremble at the mere brush of the cool metal. “Oh fuck,” you whimper, bringing them up to your chest, “I’ve never done this before,” you confess.

There’s a sense of amazement that consumes you at the thin chain you hold in your hands, the pretty gold painted clamps on each end. It makes you shiver, body unconsciously grinding down against Jungkook’s lap where his engorged cock was fighting against the material of his shorts.

“Then let me help you,” he tries, the childish tone from before melting into his usual silky smooth baritone. Jungkook even softens his gaze at you, let’s his tongue peek out to wet his lips as you almost seriously consider his request.

Had it not been for the sudden loud shout from the sports commentator behind you, a long obnoxious gooooooaaal, you probably would have fallen victim to that honey-eyed gaze. You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.

Without a second thought, you bring one of the little camps close to your chest, giving it a few experimental squeezes until the nerves are replaced with an overwhelming wave of horniness that even Jungkook can sense. “Fuck,” he groans, shaking his restraints back and forth like a wild animal as you slowly get to clamping your left nipple.

You’re not sure what you expected; part of you had thought it was going to be an excruciating pain, one that would make you want to scream and shout in sheer agony. The other part had reduced it to a barely there pinch that would never live up to your fantasies. As it stands, the sensation of the clamp around your swollen nipple sits right in between, drawing in a choked gasp that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Baby, sweetheart,” Jungkook gasps alongside you, eyes zeroed in on the pinched off bundle of nerves. There’s a sudden grinding sound that fills the air, like the sawing off of wood that definitely doesn’t sound good, and it’s a direct result of the fight he puts up against his headboard. “Please, please,” he begs, muscled arms tugging back and forth. “I have to touch—“

The second clamp goes on, making your entire back arch as if you were possessed. You're not, just extremely overwhelmed by the prickle of pain on your tits that makes you grind down against his cock, hands fisting the front of his hoodie like it’s the only thing grounding you right now. “Oh,” you shudder, thighs quivering at the heightened stimulation you receive from the clamps sitting on your nipples. “Kook, I-I can’t.”

He growls, hips bucking beneath you in a crazed effort to better situate you on his lap. “You gotta take these off me,” he rasps out. The next buck of his hips makes the chain dangling between your breast brush dangerously close to his face. He’s unintentionally goaded on by the TV in the room, the annoying drone of the commentator shouting something about never giving up. “Can make you feel so much better, sweet girl,” he cooes, jutting his head out like he needs a kiss.

Your head feels woozy, pussy throbbing at the sensations being channeled down into your core. Your eyes flutter shut, and before you can think it through, you're blindly reaching for the chain, giving it one light tug that has you mewling like a kitten. “O-oh, fuck,” you sob, looping your finger around the thin chain carefully. Another tug that pulls against your nipples sends a gush of wetness down between your thighs. “Cock,” you slur dazedly, “need your cock.”

Jungkook shudders out a long breath. “Le-Let me go then, sweetheart,” he chokes out, “let me fuck that pretty little pussy for you.”

“Uh uh,” you disagree, bringing another angry buck out of him, metal cuffs rattling loudly. “Want you to watch,” you pant, reaching behind you for his shorts. “Watch me, Jungkookie.” It takes three tries for you to get a grip, the elastic material slipping from your fingers before you finally gain some semblance of control and paw them down . The shorts and the boxers came off together, his engorged cock springing up to tap against your ass. “W-Watch,” you repeat dazedly, leaning forward with one hand on his shoulder to line him up with your dripping hole. Behind you, the commentator is droning on about core balance or something of the sort. It takes two tries as you blindly have to tug your panties to the side as well, and just as you have his fiery red tip against your entrance, something else happens.

He catches you, pearly teeth biting down on the chain that connects your clamps in a motion you can only liken to a bloodthirsty shark jumping out of the water, jaws snapping to catch its prey. It dangles in his face, the same way his own necklaces have done to you so many times before. But the difference between you and Jungkook was that while you let his assortment of necklaces hypnotize you, drag across your face painfully, he doesn’t. He snaps forward, catches it between his teeth.

You mewl loudly, foggy vision turning onto him. Jungkook’s got this unreadable look on his face, likes he’s pissed off and turned on all at once. “You’re not in charge,” he murmurs around the chain, the s and c sounds all slurred together. “You will never be in charge, silly girl, you got that?” he spits, yanking his head back like an animal, pulling your upper body with him by the two golden clamps on your nipples.

There’s tears in your eyes, lining your waterline and threatening to fall with each tug his mouth gives against the chain of your nipple clamps. He’s got his neck craned back as far as he possibly can with a pillow beneath him, chain links digging into his bottom lip. “Y-Yes,” you sob, your entire body quivering at the way he so easily manages to overthrow you, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, solemn eyes flickering across your twisted features once more. He gives another purposeful tug, head snapping back just the tiniest bit, but it’s enough to tug you forward again, a loud whimper torn from your throat. “Undo these cuffs for me, sweet girl,” he commands softly, jiggling the same restraints he’d spent the better part of fifteen minutes fighting against.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper, hands wildly slapping down on his bedside table. You had had half the mind to leave the key there when you had retrieved the cuffs, telling yourself it would be easy access afterwards. It’s not, apparently, the silver pick falling just out of reach. For some reason— it’s probably the sensitivity and horninesss, the pinpricks of pain that originate from your nipples —this fact frustrates you to the point of tears.

“Easy, doll,” Jungkook talks you through, voice low and soft beneath you, “relax and grab it for me, okay?” You nod, angrily blinking away a tear that drips down your face. It splatters on Jungkook’s cheek, bringing a soft huff of amusement from him.

Finally the key brushes your hand, and you sigh in relief, shakily leaning forward to undo the lock above his head. He releases his killer chomp/grip on your chain just as you release his cuffs. “I-I’m sorry,” you sniffle, a sudden need to apologize as you watch him rub at the raw skin around his wrists. “I didn’t—“

“Shhh,” he says, cuddling you into his chest. “It’s alright,” he says simply and you believe him.

Which ends up being a terrible mistake exactly ten seconds later when he’s shoving your face into the sheets, your cries and whimpers muffled by the sounds of the game on TV as he winds your arms behind your back. You struggle for all of five seconds before a soft click resounds from behind you.

“Did you think I’d just let that slide, sweet girl?” he growls against your ear, hot breath fanning across your skin. “I'm not your dog, __,” he spits, suddenly yanking you up by your cuffed wrists. Your chest is heaving, arms aching from the way he’s got you on your knees, blind to whatever he’s doing behind you. “Don’t lock me up, because I’ll always come back to bite.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you stammer, flinching when a hand snakes around your waist, an experimental tug to the chain of your clamps. It sends a shudder down your spine, amplified by the hot press of his body behind you. “I won’t do it again!”

“I know you fucking won’t,” he laughs meanly, trailing his hand down over your mound. One finger circles your clit through your underwear, a shaky sigh exiting your lips at the jarringly light touch. “Because I’m gonna fuck you until you’ve learned your lesson, silly girl.”

“I said sorry,” you whimper, thighs quivering. His cock brushes up against you, the same cock you were about to ride until the sunset. Oh how the tables have turned.

A hand slips beneath your underwear, pad of a finger rubbing against your swollen clit. “Oh,” you exhale, surprised with the suddenly gentle touch following his words. “Th-That’s nice,” you murmur, head lolling forward at the slow rhythm he sets, playing with you like you were a toy that needed warming up.

“Yeah?” he husks out. There’s a yank to your clamps that makes you gasp, chest following the motion as if it’ll reduce the shock. “You think this is about making you feel nice?” he murmurs. Another tug, followed by another, until he’s raining down a series of rhythmic shocks onto your tits that make you shiver and twitch, tongue heavy in your mouth to the point you feel like you’re drooling.

“Wait,” you whimper, arms twisting behind you. “Hurts, hurts” you cry, arching your back like it’ll save you from the steady stimulation against your rock-hard nipples.

“Does it?” Jungkook hums, one hand working away at your clit. He swirls it around his finger, pressing down on the nub in an attempt to distract you. But it only heightens the sting coming from your breasts, the blossom of pain that grows over each mound the longer he plays with you. “Good. Want your pretty little body to hurt for me, baby.”

Right after saying that he releases the grip on your chain, letting it swing back and forth until it eventually rests on your stomach, throbbing nipples spared for now. A breath of relief washes over you now that you only have to worry about the hand playing along your folds. The TV is still flickering to your right, but the commentator's voice sounds fuzzy and so far away, like he’s in a whole different dimension while you and Jungkook are here.

Your reprieve lasts shorter than you expected, as his free hand slowly begins creeping up your waist, fluttering over the little gold clamps pinching your nipples. “Pretty girl,” he compliments, nudging one tender nub with a playful finger. “Pretty, pretty baby,” Jungkook murmurs as he begins massaging the scorching hot skin around your nipples gently. There’s a warm kiss pressed to your shoulder, followed by a trail up the side of your neck. You shudder, trying to focus on the hand that creeps down your folds, teases itself against your entrance.

“Jungkook,” you whine softly, rolling your head to the side so he can suck bruise after bruise onto your skin. You’re definitely drooling, the saliva thick and heavy in your mouth. “T-Too much.”

“Thought you wanted that,” he mumbles, kissing up and up until he’s at your jaw and then he’s at your mouth, languidly kissing you. He’s doing that thing again where he’s hellbent on drowning you in his spit, and if you didn’t know better you’d think he was preparing you for something. “Wanted me to watch you bounce that tight little cunt on me while your tits were like this,” he says, punctuating his statement with a light slap against the side of one breast. It makes you jump, a moan catching in your throat.

The finger that had been playing meanly along your wet folds eases itself past your lips, plunges head first into the aching heat inside of you. He works it against your walls, thumb over your clit as he curls his finger inside of you. You moan loudly, shaking in your restraints. The hand over your chest squeezes, pushes the clamp deeper against your breast until your entire body is short-circuiting.

Your first orgasm comes over you with all the grace of a lightning bolt; it’s sudden and jerky, has every nerve ending wildly spasming as you whimper his name. “No more, no more,” you beg, head lolling back against his shoulder. He shows you no mercy, simply rubs furiously over your clit, until you’re jerking into his maniac hand.

When it’s over, he places a kiss against your jaw, curling his finger inside once more “Play with yourself,” he whispers.

“H-Huh?” you stutter, the rattle of your cuffs loud in both your ears, but not as loud as the breath you were trying to catch post-orgasm. You wonder if maybe he got ahead of himself again—he occasionally did that, thinking ahead to a point you hadn’t reached in your normal progression of sex —but suddenly he’s shoving you back down again, the finger that was slowly driving you insane rudely exiting your cunt.

You flop down against the mattress with a squeal, wiggling around like you actually had a chance of doing anything with him watching you like he is. You struggle for a few beats, every shift against the mattress rubbing harshly against your breasts until you nearly want to cry.

Just as you reach that point, he’s rolling you into your back, hands uncomfortably bent beneath you. It leaves you unwillingly arching to accommodate them, tits practically presented for him to see. “Pretty girl,” Jungkook groans, reaching down for the first time that day to touch himself.

His self restraint was truly unmatched, you realize, watching him squeeze the base of his cock. He runs a palm over his abdomen, up his chest. He drags the material of his hoodie along with it, eventually shucking it off somewhere to the side. His hair, so fluffy and soft, flops over his forehead, a few defined strands tickling his eyebrow.

The mere sight of him alone made you shiver, pussy clenching at the wet dream before you. He’s not an idiot either, obviously aware of what the sight of his body does to you, the tattoos littering his entire right arm that hypnotize you. The faint glow of the TV screen against his side makes him look like the cover star of every middle-aged wife’s erotic romance novel. He reaches said arm down, runs a hand along your thigh until you’re spreading them wide for him.

He doesn’t touch you like you want, only slides over your body until he’s toying with the chain of the nipple clamps that were slowly becoming the bane of your existence. “Open,” he says suddenly, and you do. Your mouth drops open, tongue stuck out slightly even if you don’t know why. He’s ingrained the response into you by now, made you into a desperate slut always ready for anything in your mouth.

This time it’s the stupid, stupid chain connecting your nipple clamps. He tugs it until it’s pulled up, the pull against your nipples making you whimper and writhe. The metal is cool when it touches your lips, but his fingertips are warm. “Good girl,” he praises once you bite down; even this sends a shock of nerves down your spine and to your pussy. “Just like that.”  

A muffled whimper escapes your lips, tears clouding your vision at the stimulation that was quickly overwhelming you again. Part of you thinks no more, please, I can’t. But the other has you spreading your legs for him, quivering pussy desperate to be filled.

The distress must be obvious in your face if the way Jungkook kisses your neck is any indication. He’s got one hand massaging against the underside of one breast, like he’s soothing the striking pain of your pinched nipples for you. If anything, it only strings you along more. “Stupid baby,” he chuckles meanly, a soft puff of laughter against your jaw, “thinking she could push me down.”

He leans back onto his knees, that same careful brush against the inside of your thigh bringing about an embarrassing whimper as he peels your thong away. “But you didn’t really want that, did you?” he eggs on, slowly shifting down against the bed, until his mouth is hovering over your exposed lower lips. His breath is warm, makes you yearn for him to be closer. “You like when I shove my cock into your little pussy, right? Like how it feels when I turn you into my little slut like this,” he sighs, pressing one chaste kiss against your thigh that makes you pull at the cuffs behind your back.

Soon, his mouth is on your clit, the same clit he had previously pampered with his hands but chooses to play with again. He licks an obscenely wet stripe from your throbbing hole to your clit, tongue curling devilishly towards the end. You whimper, though the sound is distorted around the chain in your mouth. Jungkook groans, dives mouth first into your cunt until he’s suffocating himself. His cute nose is pressed against your clit, and he takes advantage of the fact by taking one, dramatic sniff with his eyes rolled back. A soft moan escapes him.

“Fuck,” he shudders, “smell like heaven for me.” You moan at his sweet words, eyes squeezed shut as if that’ll stop the buckets of overwhelmed tears that you’ve been fighting off since the moment the clamps came on. “Wanna give you the world, angel,” he breathes, licking languidly against your folds, tongue occasionally peeking inside.

You mewl and writhe, every movement sending a tug of pain over your nipples. You want that gorgeous cock deep in your cunt, want to feel him in your womb, but you can’t voice any of this with the chain of the clamps between your lips.

Jungkook sits up suddenly, and you’re thinking yes, finally, before the look on his face has you screeching to a halt. There’s something distinctly different about him, a look you don’t think you’ve ever seen in bed before. Your thoughts are only confirmed when his foot slides onto the floor, as if he’s about to leave.

The panic must be evident on your face, because Jungkook is quick to swoop in and reassure you he’s not done with you yet. “Wanna fuck your little pussy,” he admits, carding a hand through your hair. “But the truth is I don’t think you deserve that just yet.”

With that he slinks off the bed, leaving you writhing in confusion as he heads off for the closet behind you. You can’t see what he’s doing, can only hear the shuffling of something back and forth. The TV is still on, the loud cheering of the fans muffling his clattering. You’re suddenly reminded of his swollen ankle, craning your neck to tell him to not overdo it, when something dark covers your eyes.

He’s standing just beside the edge of the bed, his signature teddy bear heat emanating off in waves so thick you could touch them. “Do you trust me?” he murmurs, voice close but not close to your ear.

Something swells in your chest, an emotion so intense your entire pelvis tightens up at the realization that Jungkook was asking for permission to blindfold you. You’re almost certain it’s one of his ties, a silky black thing that covers your vision for the most part, save for a little crack by where your nose juts out. A shuffle to your side, and then he’s gently prying the chain he had pushed past your lips earlier out. “Need an answer, ___,” he says quietly, almost nervously.

“Yes,” you gasp, your entire body set aflame at the sudden turn of events.

If you were being honest you would have never predicted your night would end like this. Maybe you came in a little too cocky, a little too optimistic for the night. It was supposed to be Jungkook handcuffed and powerless, you remind yourself— how on earth did you get here?

“Good girl,” he praises, giving you a little encouraging nudge to raise your head for him to actually tie the knot behind your head. It’s definitely one of his suit ties, you realize, because there’s a distinct cross-stitch pattern that you can feel only when it’s tightened against your skin, pressing against your fluttering eyelids. When he releases you, you’re suddenly all too aware of the sense he’s deprived you of.

“K-Kook?” you call out with a tremble in your voice. The rhythmic pattern of his footsteps rounds the bed again, and then there’s a soft touch against your leg.

“Right here, sweet girl,” he reassures you. The bed dips by your legs as he closes in on you, still tied up and on the verge of a second orgasm that he snatched away before your very eyes; not that you can see it anymore. His hand slides over your stomach, tugs playfully at the clamps. You moan, the sensation magnified tenfold by the fact you can’t see nor anticipate his actions now.

His hands glide like two sailing boats over the broad expanse of sea that is your body, molding against your curves like waves as they go. He hums appreciatively, and you find yourself glad you can’t see him. You can’t possibly imagine with what eyes he’s looking at you now.

You bask in the glory of his attention for another beat before he retracts his touch.

And then, suddenly, something distinctly not hand-like, and weirdly soft traces over the inside of your thighs. “Kook?” you ask tentatively.

No response.

It runs over your skin in the same way his hands just did, a unique shape your brain scrambles to put a name too. It’s soft, so soft. But cold to the touch. Inanimate for sure. It’s a toy, your brain supplies belatedly, but that much you already know.

It’s heart-shaped, you realize, just as it thwacks down against your pussy.

You shriek at the suddenness of it all, thighs clamping shut. Your heart is thundering at a pace of a rabbit’s, chest rising and falling as you blindly piece together what just happened.  “Kook?” you whimper a second time, head craning back and forth in a desperate attempt to track his next move.

He’s not touching you anymore, but the bed is still dipping by your feet, so you deduce he must be there. You test your theory by sliding your foot against the sheets, lower lip trembling at the idea of him not being there.

Jungkook catches your ankle with one warm palm, slightly calloused from years of weightlifting. He raises it up, the cold air of his room hitting your exposed pussy. “You liked it,” he says, not a question but an observation. Your pussy throbs, the phantom strike against it lingering. A kiss to your ankle.

“Wh-What is it?” you cry, unconsciously pressing your leg closer to him now that you have his location. (You don’t see the soft smile on his face at your action.) Ever so slowly you let your thighs open again, now anticipating the next touch of that thing— that riding crop, you realize.

Jungkook confirms. “It’s a riding crop,” he explains, excitement curling around his words. Suddenly, it returns, this time against your stomach. He doesn’t strike you like he did before, simply lets it run across your tummy. “Heart-shaped. It’s so pretty,” he sighs dreamily. “Reminds me of you.”

You nod anxiously, stomach muscles tensed the longer it stays there. Jungkook obviously sees this, lifting it to give you the lightest of taps that still manages to make you gasp. “Cute,” he laughs, trailing it back to where it first touched down.

“Oh,” you tremble, thighs twitching as it pats tenderly over your clit. “Wai-Wait,” you warn, body arching as he runs it down, down your swollen folds. “No,” you weep, going to close your legs. But Jungkook predicts your moves, pressing your thigh down harshly against the bed.

“Shh,” he soothes, tracing the heart down your folds, pressing it flat against you. There’s a distinct lining over it that makes your hips jump, a faux-velvet covering the tip that tickles your skin. “Sit still for me.”

“No!” you gasp. Your back arches, body betraying you as it pushes your pussy against the toy. “I can’t, I can’t, Kook,” you sob, lips contracting around the gaping nothingness in your hole.

He condemns your attitude with a harsh swat of the riding crop against your cunt, tearing another high-pitched squeal from your lips. It’s followed by another against your clit that makes your body spasm. “Bad,” he chides. “Supposed to be my perfect girl.”

“I c-can’t,” you whine, the darkness over your eyes making the sensations ten times more intense. You don’t know where he or the riding crop are if they’re not directly touching you. Even then, the image is fuzzy in your head. “Need you,” you pant.

You try to reach for him, try to pull him into your arms. But you’re reminded of the cuffs holding you back, the metal digging into your skin behind you. You sob at the realization, angrily shaking your hands back and forth like maybe acting like a tantrum-throwing child will save you. It doesn’t.

Instead there’s a tug at the chain resting on your stomach, one that makes you cry out in pain when it pulls at your terribly sensitive nipples again. Jungkook uses it to pull you close, just a small inch off the bed that has you gasping for breath nonetheless.

“N-No,” you wail, nipples throbbing from all the sensations you’ve put them through tonight.

A chaste peck against your trembling lips. “Tell me how it feels,” he purrs, nose brushing against yours. Even with the tie obstructing your vision, the latest version of your boyfriend burns itself into your eyelids, force feeding you his sweaty skin and damp hair until even his breath against your face is enough to bring you to the edge.

“I-It’s scary, Kook,” you sniffle, listening for any signs of a reaction. But even if he did show one, your breathing is too loud and the ESPN channel is still blaring on screen. “Scary,” you whimper, lunging forward in a desperate move to feel the familiar brush of his tongue against yours. You miss.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks carefully, like he’s afraid he’s pushed too far.

He has. But fuck, do you love it.

“No,” you wail, lips smushed somewhere along his cheek, near his jaw and not his mouth like you wanted to. “Feels good, feels so fucking amazing,” you babble, cut off halfway through by a hiccup from your sad cries. “Wanna cum, wanna cum for you like this.”

Jungkook chuckles in relief, tilting his head until you can catch his lips with yours. It’s probably an awkward angle you assume, him adjusting for your vision-less whims, but it feels so good. It sends a shock to your pussy, his plush lips against yours. Without him telling you, you’re opening your mouth for him. “Spit on me,” you beg pitifully.

Jungkook groans, and you can almost visualize the look on his face perfectly— the tensing of his jaw, the push of his Adam’s apple, the pucker of his lips. “God, you’re disgusting,” he sighs, a fat glob of spit hitting the back of your tongue. Without your vision, you don’t see it coming, recoiling with a whiny mewl. The thin trail of saliva that follows trails across your chin when he finally reels back. You swallow greedily, wondering how soon is too soon to ask him to do it again.

With your full permission to move forward, Jungkook wastes no time trailing the riding crop over your wet folds, collecting your oozing pre-cum on the tiny heart as he roves it over your cunt. “Fuck, you can probably cum like this too, can’t you?”

You can’t answer, too caught up in the featherlight brushes. Even if you wanted to say something, one sudden strike against your pussy renders you speechless. “Mmh!” you hiss, biting down on your lip.

“Come on,” Jungkook encourages, resting a hand on your thigh. He presses the crop against you again, pushes down until the flat apex of the heart where it meets the flexible stem of the toy is pressing against your cunt hotly. He grinds it down against you, takes a sick pleasure in the pathetic way you arch up into it, rut against the little heart like it can provide even half the pleasure his hands usually would. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Your body is on fire, every nerve, every sensation shooting straight to your most erogenous areas— your cunt and your nipples. Talking seems like the farthest thing from your mind right now, too caught up in the way he roughly pushes the crop against your clit. A whimper rips itself from your throat, shuddering at the sensation. Unconsciously you jerk away from him, only to be scolded with another thwack against your quivering pussy lips. “A-Ahh,” you wail, squirming beneath him like a worm that can’t sit still. “Good— it feels good, Jungkookie,” you weep.

The soft mushy pet name has him raining down two snacks against you in quick succession. “No baby names,” he warns, frown evident in his voice.

Even with you completely under him like this, shackled and blinded with your love, something unmistakably childish and obnoxious curls around your throat, has you biting down on a grin as the coil in your stomach tightens. “D-Don’t like that, Jungkookie,” you choke out hoarsely, wildly bold for someone in your position. “D-Don't like being m-my baby?”

The crop loses its position over your folds, and for a minute you’re left anxiously anticipating its next touch. 

It’s on the side of your breast, harder than the rest, combining with the already powerful pinch of the clamps. It makes you cry out painfully, stomach tightening at what is probably the most unexpected orgasm you’ve ever had. It isn’t like your usual ones that overpower you and make cum trickle out between your folds.

No, it comes in waves— literally. Your pussy spasms, pushes one splurt of cum out between your thighs, almost likes your lower lips are spitting it out. And then again, more the second time, against his mattress. He pushes your legs up to your chest to marvel at the cum coating your lips and thighs. “You’re my baby, stupid,” he hisses. He grabs at your clamps then, twisting the little chain in his hand harshly. You sob at the yank, at the way your nipples feel two seconds away from being ripped off. But you can’t even complain, because the sudden touch has your pussy clenching, before a final trickle of cum oozes out of you.

Even still, your mind babbles on. “N-No,” you choke, shaking back and forth. Despite the tie covering your eyes, they flicker like a mad man beneath it, like you’ll somehow get lucky and develop Seeing Through Fabric Ability if you try hard enough. “My, my baby,” you fight weakly, pelvis trembling from aftershocks of that orgasm. “My idiot b-boy,” you smile dazedly, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sting you’ve become familiar with by now. “T-Tell me, Jungkookie,” you croon, biting down on your lip to keep a moan from spilling out mid-syllable. “Still the same, r-right?” you stutter, “still think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

He scoffs. “No,” he vehemently denies, brashly landing an unexpected smack against your hip, no warning in sight. “That’s not true,” he defends. You can hear his pout, the little push of his lips when he grows defensive. 

You laugh, every bit the insane lunatic, fueled by your two orgasms and slipping sense of reality. “Ffffuck,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into nothing. “S-Say it again, baby,” you plead, tongue licking across your lips. “Tell me, tell me you don’t care about my problems, Kook-ah,” you whimper.

There’s a hesitant pause on his end, an unexpected lull in your play as he’s torn apart between doing what you want or playing it safe.

You know you’re confusing him, because you’re certainly confusing yourself. You don’t even bother trying to dissect your emotions— you’ve long since accepted your mind was a dangerous place when horny and presented with Jungkook’s sole attention. Well, you knew you were into the whole degradation bit, but this whole having-your-boyfriend-throw-the-words-that-made-you-question-your-entire-worth bit was certainly new and unexpected.

But there’s something in your heart (and in your libido) that needs this, needs him to fix this memory for you that maybe, kinda sorta, has haunted you for days, weeks now, as much as you hate to admit it. Needed him to fix the booboo he gave you with a bandaid, only leave a scar you could look back at and laugh off, not a gaping wound that opened at the slightest mention of it. Because while you forgave, you certainly never forgot*.

(*Unless forgetting meant having your boyfriend overwrite said memory that couldn’t be forgotten with the sheer power of his monster demon cock and wicked tongue. Only then could you forget.)

“Don’t be a fucking pussy, Jungkook,” you spit, feeling the hesitancy in the riding crop that brushes against your skin. It fades away quickly. “S-Say I’ve a dead-end office job; just holding you back,” you beg, trying to pretend the entirety of his little outburst hasn’t been ingrained into your mind for the last couple of weeks. Something flashes in your chest, throat closing off when the toy finally leaves your skin. “Tell me, tell me—“

He looms over you, teddy bear warmth covering the entirety of your body. “Is this what you want?” he asks seriously, lowly, breath fanning across your lips. Your makeshift blindfold feels distinctly damp over your eyes, chest heaving with an exertion that can only be emotional when he speaks so softly to you after routinely raining down brutal thwacks on you for the past half hour. “__,” he says sternly, “is this what you want?”

You gasp on a sob, unsure when these emotions had time to manifest outside your heart like this. You nod your head like a bobble head doll sitting on someone’s dashboard, lower lip trembling on a shameful cry that is not sex-induced like all the other ones until now. “I-I need this, Jungkook,” you admit, voice so tiny and soft, it almost gets drowned out by your shaky exhales and the crowd roaring on screen. “Need to overwrite it.”

He presses a soft kiss to your quivering lips, slow and so devastatingly loving. It’s nothing like the one from before where he’d spit down your throat per your request, and the unbridled adoration he packs into one simple kiss makes you crumble in his arms, sniffles piling on by the dozens.

He leans back after a moment, pulls your thigh over his forearm and finally lets you feel the hard ridges of his cock against your folds. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, trying to sound angry and annoyed, but there’s a lilting tone to his words, a love and trust you wouldn’t have been able to see with or without your blindfold, but can feel nonetheless. He pulls it off you anyway, the warm glow of the TV illuminating his face for you for the first time in about half an hour. Eyes soft, sweat trailing down his body. His body lines up against yours, but so does his heart. You feel it in the way he holds you in his arms, the way he’s careful about sinking into your folds. He slips an arm beneath your waist, uses it to hold you up so you’re not uncomfortably squishing your arms anymore. But if you ask, he’ll pretend he’s doing this for convenience sake only.

“T-Terrible fucking job,” he starts out, the stammer eluding the obvious discomfort he has saying those words, but he does it for you anyway. “Big fucking baby,” he tries again, slowly pushing past your tight walls with a shudder. “C-Can’t look away from you for two seconds because you’re such a fucking kid.”

“Worse,” you choke out. “Meaner. Please, Kook.”

He nods, holds your waist carefully when he finally bottoms out inside of you. “Dead-end office job,” he says, repeating the words that had made you want to crawl into a whole and never come out from. “Got some stupid fucking problems,” he tacks on, slowly withdrawing his hips from your heat. “Always complaining about the stupidest shit,” he hisses, fingers digging into your waist when it’s only the tip of his cock inside of you. “I don’t fucking care about it,” he seethes, forcefully snapping his hips into you.

They’re scrambled fragments of what he’d really said to you that night. Line after line that don’t carry a quarter of hurt or even make coherent sense for that matter. And still. 

You whimper, mind fuzzy from the thrusting pace he picks up, body fluttering at the glide of his cock against your walls. But your heart is thundering in your throat, his willingness to help fix this memory for you tightening around your every being until you can’t breathe. “I-I love you,” you cry, clenching down around him.

Jungkook groans, pulls you flush against his cock until the thin hairs around the base of his cock are tickling your skin. “Stupid, fucking child,” he groans, “immature ass nobody,” he grunts, bucking into you like your words don’t mean a thing.

“I am, I am,” you wail, suddenly hit with the cold hard truth that your body was desperately on edge. From the stimulation your nipples had gotten all night, to the ghost of the riding crop that lingered across your skin; your body was tired, so ready for a final orgasm that you’re certain Jungkook will provide. “T-Tell me y-you—“

“Shut up,” he barks, sweaty skin gliding against yours. “D-Don't tell me what to do,” he huffs, nailing you into the bed. He’s pushing you hard into the mattress, like he wants to brand you into it. “Need to fix this— alone.”

You nod numbly, the crowd behind him cheering loudly. It’s like they’re rooting for him— for the two of you —as silly as it sounds, and as bothersome as it would be any other day, today the obnoxious sounds of the ESPN soccer match only serve to fix a bad memory from before. It’s loud and cringey as all hell, but you’ll look back to this moment and laugh.

And that’s what you want most of all. You want that memory from before, that nasty fight, to go away, to disappear forever and be replaced with this one. Of him, pounding you into the sheets as his TV blares beside you, just another day, another round of sex filled with your usual kinks. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Ffffuck,” you whine when the tip of his hard cock prods against your cervix. He’s going deep, he’s going all out, because he wants to fix this too. Wants to do anything to make it right, and he’ll never know how much you appreciate him for it. “S-So deep,” you whimper, hips jumping when he rams back inside.

“Stupid slut,” Jungkook snarls, tucking his head against your neck the same way he always does. “Making me do stupid shit like this,” he bites, but you know he doesn’t mean it, know he never will again. He rocks his hips into you, no longer concerned with holding you up from uncomfortably laying on your cuffed arms anymore as he pistons into your squelching heat. He’s pressed so close over you, lips brushing against your collarbone with each snap of his hips.

All the pushing and jostling about has the chain of your clamps wildly jumping about, sprawling across the planes of your chest, above your breasts, where he snatches it up between his lips again. “Stupid, fucking—“ he slurs, jutting his head to the side like a wild stallion. You sob at the tenderness of your nipples, at the way he pays them no mercy as he continues rutting into you like a mad dog in heat. “Slut,” he spits. “S-So fuckin’ pretty.”

Your mind is in another universe, and when that last word, that devastatingly familiar term, slips from his lips mindlessly, something inside you snaps. “N-No,” you sob, legs fidgeting around his waist at the orgasm that wracks through your body against your will. “No,” you cry in frustration, “didn’t, didn’t want—“

“Stupid, stupid angel,” he babbles, seemingly unaware of your orgasm as he continues fucking into your leaking cunt, ignorant of the cum that dribbles out, creams his cock as he carries on. “Fuck,” he pants, gnaws against the chain of the stupid clamps like he can’t bare this any longer. “Love you,” he says, though he’s still stuck in that mindset from before and his sweet confession sounds more like a threat. “L-Love that childish side of you,” he confesses, finally dropping the chain— much to your relief —and surging forward to kiss you on the mouth. He tastes weirdly metallic, a thought you can’t ponder too long as he continues ramming himself past your clenched lips and into your pussy. “Your fffucking dr-drive to succeed,” he grunts, mouth smushed uncomfortably against your cheek.

“Kook, sweetheart,” you shudder, sensitive pussy spent as he drills on. His cock is still so achingly hard, and he doesn’t seem anywhere near completion. “Take it easy,” you gently remind him, can’t brush your fingers through his hair like you usually would, so you settle for pressing your lips to his cheek.

“Fuck, fuck,” he heaves, pushing so deep you practically feel him in your womb, swollen mushroom head begging for entry. “Give me it all,” he stammers, “want you—want this forever.”

“I know you do, baby,” you coo, nuzzling your nose against his when he sloppily surges forward, panting and gasping over you like a crazed caveman. “I’m yours,” you gently remind him.

“No,” he chokes out hoarsely, eyes screwed shut. “Need more, all of it,” he mumbles. “Give me yourself, ___, need you for the rest of my life—“ he cuts himself off with a shuddered whine, so airy and wispy it makes you shiver. “Ffffuck, shit,” he howls, each thrust into your walls only unraveling him more and more. “Give me, give me—“

“Anything,” you whimper, body trembling from his excessivity. “What do you want, Kook-ah?”

He says nothing, losing himself in the warmth of your pussy as his orgasm rounds the corner. He’s in the final stretch, the final straight until achieving nirvana alongside you at the finish line. And, as you’ve long since come to understand, a true Jungkook Danger Zone. He loses all sense of self, random syllables and phrases slipping through his lips.

“Fuck, fuck, marry me— marry me,” he moans, snapping his hips into you with a ferocious speed that has you bouncing against the sheets, and that’s despite the tight grip his has on you. “Let me— fuck— let me fuck a baby into you, sweetheart,” he purrs, eyes shining like an absolute psycho, but you’re apparently into that because the idea squeezes around your chest and burrows it’s way in. “A baby,” he marvels like an idiot, eyes big and sparkly, “f-fuck.”

“Wh-What?” you choke, flinching when he bites down against your lower lip. He’s got you trapped beneath him, stuffing your brain with these ideas that make your heart enter cardiac arrest, body tingling like in Mario Kart when you’ve got the star power up. “Kook—“

“Sh,” he groans, digging his fingers into your sides as he rolls his hips against you. “Almost,” he informs you, but the blood rushes to your ears. “Oh, fuck,” he pants, jaw clenching, “oh, baby.”

Jungkook cums with a shivered cry, body hunching over you like some entity has just exited out of his spine. Maybe something did, because afterwards he manages to hold himself above you for exactly three seconds before dropping the entirety of his hefty muscles onto you. “Ouch,” you whine, wrists twisted uncomfortably beneath you.

“Sorry,” he huffs, completely out of breath and dazed as he rolls away from you. He ends up spread out like a starfish beside you, completely fucked out and definitely zooming through the fifth, sixth, and seventh dimensions.

He doesn’t say anything for a hot minute, chest rising and falling like he’s just run a marathon, until you butt in. “Kook. Undo me,” you remind him.

He looks over at you, dark hair falling over his eyes and sprawling around his head like a halo. Oh, he was going to be the death of you. “Oh,” he says, like his brain has just processed the information. “Right.” He sits up, tucking himself back into the shorts he never fully took off. That was his character flaw; never bothers to get completely naked during sex. Anyway, his straight male-equivalent of booty shorts come up around his thighs again, stretching sinfully across the thick muscles.

The five sonnet poem that was gearing up in your head comes to a halt when he touches your breast. “No, no more,” you cry, instinctively withering away.

Jungkook snorts. “I’m just taking them off, baby,” he says, reaching forward again with the same practiced ease you’d use on an animal. The clamps come off, all the nerves suddenly coming back to life. It’s a weird sensation, not having your tits subject to that prickling pain anymore, and it makes you moan softly. Jungkook soothes you with his wannabe masseuse hands, but you think it’s just an excuse for him to fondle your breasts.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks gently, hovering over you like a damned surgeon or something. His voice is so silky and smooth, hands soft against your chest. He’s so careful in the way he turns you over, somehow magically producing the tiny key pick you swore was lost between the sheets after its first use.

Being on your chest makes you tremble like a leaf, the faintest brush of the cotton against your tits enough to make your pussy clench weakly. “ I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, carefully detailing his actions like you’re not watching him with your very own eyes. But it’s oddly comforting, having him walk you through the process of rolling your sore wrists. The inside of the cuffs had a plush lining, but it was a pretty cheap thing. After he’s done massaging the skin, he pads over to his dresser and returns with a shirt and undies for you. “Shirt,” he says, helping you into the clothing.

When you’re all snuggled under the sheets again, the television still loud as hell, he mumbles, “wanna talk about it?”

You exhale against his chest, feeling so light and fluttery from your orgasms and the way he runs his fingers through your scalp and the way his heart thunders by your ear. “Hm,” you hum pensively. “Nah. Think I’m fine now,” you admit.

Jungkook chuckles. “A full miracle recovery?” he teases. You nod, taking in the comforting scent of his fabric softener and just him in his entirety.

“Yep.” A beat of silence, the commentator is back to filling the space between you two. He talks about a mile minute, spewing stats and plays you could never understand in a thousand years. But you know Jungkook will get sucked in soon enough, so you strike while the pot is hot. “Do you wanna talk?”

He cranes his neck a little to look at you. “What do you mean?”

You roll your eyes, pushing yourself up to look at him straight on. “Oh, my mistake,” you drawl. “I seem to have missed the part where we were going to act like you didn’t just ask for my hand in marriage and then offered to get me pregnant—,” you pause, the realization suddenly hitting you like a trash can whipping down a hill on a rainy day at a thousand miles per hour. “Pregnant!” you exclaim, cheeks warm at the fact he really just said that to you.

Jungkook’s cheeks fare no better, a Flaming Hot Cheeto shade dusting his skin. “I, it was just…” he tries, poor tiny monkey brain working overtime to offer an excuse. “It-it doesn’t have to be a thing,” he blushes, big Bambi eyes flickering from you to the television to the heart-tipped riding crop by the foot of the bed. “I was just…”

You raise your brows. “Consumed by the spirit of King Henry IV to have fourteen kids?”

He blinks. “Wait, you actually paid attention to that film?”

“That’s not the point!” you exclaim, shifting onto your knees in front of him. “What,” you inhale sharply, heart beating wildly in your chest, “what was that?”

Jungkook can only play the shocked angel card for so long before he’s sinking back into his pillow stack with the sigh of a man who’s worked in construction for the last sixty-four years. “I just,” he mumbles, “I think about it sometimes.” His admission makes your heart lodge itself into your throat, wide eyes watching him spill out his heart to you.

He misreads the expression on your face. “I-Not now!” he hurries to explain. “Like,” he stammers, rosy hue slowly crawling down his neck, over his ears. “Maybe, y’know? In the future…”

You blink, brain reduced to a series of beeps and clicks like that of an old computer trying to compute information that is simply not processing. “Yeah…” you murmur, unsure of what to do with the film reel that suddenly flashes before your eyes, a look into a doorway you had never considered before. “I— me too.”

Jungkook chokes on his own saliva. “Really?” he yelps, has those sparkly anime girl eyes you always tease him about.

The gulp you do sounds loud in your ears. “Yeah,” you breathe, throat drier than the desert, but more confident than the first peabrain response. “I-I’d like that.”

There’s a bright beam of light that shines right in your face, so vibrant and dazzling it makes you flinch and by the time you’ve recovered you realize it’s his smile. “Yeah?” Jungkook mumbles back, pearly teeth framed by his pretty smile, brows raised at your stuttery confirmation. You nod. His lips twist into a smaller grin, a condensed version of the superstar one he gave you just moments before. Before you can brush it off with a joke, he’s snatching your hand up in his, a soft smooch pressed to your knuckles. “Okay,” he says quietly, dark eyes meeting yours. “One day?”

Your heart constricts in your chest, and all you can do is nod. “One da—“

“Goooooaaaaallllll!” the announcer on screen shrieks, the loud sounds of the TV killing your mood instantly.

Any dumbstruck, love struck, idiotic, ditzy expression on your face is wiped clean, replaced with an unimpressed glare you narrow on him. His nose is scrunched up like he wants to laugh, lips pressed into a thin line at your annoyance. He swipes the TV remote off the side table, arms spread open for you to crawl back into. You do so with a huff, pout smushed against the front of his hoodie.

“That’s enough ESPN for today,” he chuckles, switching the channel about a thousand times until Rick and Morty is playing on screen. “I’ll just watch the highlights later.”

“ESPN,” you scoff like an evil villain in a movie who’s just been presented with their mortal enemy, fisting the front of his hoodie.

Jungkook nods. “ESPN,” he repeats. A beat passes. “Kinda like BDS—“

“Go get your ice pack.”

epilogue

Because Jungkook couldn’t sit still for that one eventful night following his ladder injury, he ends up in a medical boot for one week, loudly clunking around the place like a reverse pirate. You snap a picture of him that you post on Twitter for your twelve followers to see, just him pouting at the doctor’s office with his new boot and club jersey on to celebrate last night’s victory.

It’s just a cute pic for you and your friends to laugh at.

Until it’s not, and his handsome face is circulating around the entire internet.

He’s being called the Face of FC Seoul, with desperate women messaging you left and right for his information. Other fans are bragging about the beauty that is an FC Seoul fanboy. It gets to the point where his face appears on the next night’s ESPN Nightly Recap, a special on social media stars posting about the game. Except Jungkook is neither a social media star nor did he even post about the game— you did.

But there he is, all five feet and ten inches of him smiling brightly at you from the ESPN Sports channel, wearing the boot he got from hand cuffing and whipping you to completion. 

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[mercy-burning]

A Shit-Ton Of Sugar

Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer work up the nerve to ask each other out after he’s been coming into her café for the past year. Category: FLUFF Warnings: Implied smut, nothing else :) Word Count: 5.3k

Full Request: “...Congrats on 1k that’s so exciting! I was hoping to request barista!reader that works at the coffee shop that Spencer goes to every morning, and literally knowing his order by heart??? And maybe like finally working up the nerve to ask him out/give him her number? Preferably fluffy, but I don’t mind! Thank you!” — @bauhousewife 

MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST

***

DAY 1

The first day he came into the shop, she felt like she couldn't breathe, which may have sounded like a cliché, but how else were you supposed to feel when a man like that walked in and just existed in the same space as you?

However, when she heard the bell ring, signaling someone coming into the tiny café, the fact that it was almost six-thirty in the morning was enough to make her grumpy. Whoever it was didn't even have the decency to wait a half hour until they officially opened? So, she turned around to face the stranger, ready to put on a fake smile and act like she didn't secretly want to strangle them, and then laid her eyes on probably the most beautiful human being she'd seen in a long time.

His eyebrows lifted, simultaneously expressing a greeting and an apology. "I—I'm sorry, I know you're not technically open for another half hour, but I'm in a rush on my way to work and I was wondering if I could just get a quick coffee to go?"

It was obvious that he tried to speak evenly, but between apologizing and being late to work, his words still came out rather fast. And suddenly her annoyance faded, quickly turning into a need to please him however she could.

"Oh! Oh, no worries, I can do that," she rushed out, scrambling to smooth out her apron. "What can I get you?"

A flash of relief flooded the man's eyes when he blinked, and his posture seemed just as relieved, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took a breath. "Just a black coffee with lots of sugar is fine, thank you."

"No problem. I'll have that up in a minute. Size?"

"Large, please."

As she got to work, he waited as patiently as he could, looking around the small space.

It truly was what everyone would describe as "home-y". Everything was painted a pale yellow, with lavender and sage green accents in the form of window trim, picture frames, little knick-knacks, and art pieces. As the man scanned over the few tables, he found little centerpieces of old ceramic mugs with flowers painted on them, each one containing real (or maybe fake? he couldn't tell) flower arrangements.

He smiled to himself as he found everything so... comforting. And as his eyes finally made their way back to the barista behind the counter, he finally got a good look at her.

"This is... your place? You own it?"

The woman turned back to him briefly as she poured the coffee into a large to-go cup. "Oh, yeah. I just opened up a few months ago. We don't get too much business, but that's fine by me as long as it's enough to pay the bills."

At her laugh, he smiled a little wider. It was a nice sound, just as comforting and home-y as the place he stood in. "Well, i—it's really nice, congratulations. I'm glad things are working out for you."

She laughed again a little, and if he knew any better he would have swore she was blushing. "Thank you. Um... How much sugar did you say you wanted?"

It was his turn to blush now, the way she was looking at him completely doing something wicked to his insides. "O—oh, um... I guess I never really did specify, huh? Sorry about that, um... Just three tablespoons is fine."

It was clear that he really didn't want to be an inconvenience, even more so when he mumbled a, "Sorry," so soft that Y/N wasn't even sure she heard it. Even still, she put on her best smile—even as she was turned around—to make sure he knew that she wasn't annoyed with him at all.

Though, it wasn't hard to keep smiling when she couldn't think to do anything else around him. Just the thought of his face made her want to smile, like she had a choice in the matter.

She finished the coffee, putting on a lid and turning around to face him again. "Can I get your name?"

He paused for a moment, like he was shocked she'd even ask, but laughed to himself and swallowed before responding, two syllables that almost sent her into cardiac arrest. "Spencer."

Suits him... she thought as she wrote his name down on the cup, her handwriting a pretty mix of cursive and print. And seeing his name spelled out in the penmanship she always got complimented on growing up looked like it might have been the most satisfying black marker trail she'd ever seen. Almost as satisfying as his face...

She cleared her throat and slid the cup across the counter to him, hoping she wouldn't be too obvious about her little eye-candy crush when she spoke. "Three-fifty is your total."

Spencer grabbed a five dollar bill from his jacket pocket and held it out, his fingers just barely brushing hers when she took it from him. If not for the intense concentration she was immersed in, trying not to embarrass herself, she would have jumped at the contact. Instead, she quickly ducked her face behind the tall register to keep from him seeing the stupid grin she couldn't keep away as she opened the drawer and started counting change. When she handed it over, though, she set it on the counter, hoping she could avoid touching him again.

He looked like he was about to say something, but instead, he scooped the change into his hand and immediately dropped it in the empty tip jar, a small smile on his face.

Just as Y/N said, "Thank you," Spencer grabbed his coffee and said the same, the both of them immediately going warm at the interaction. They let out a small laugh then, Y/N tucking a piece of hair behind her ear before she spoke again.

"Thank you for coming in," she said with a nod.

Spencer took a sip of his coffee and nodded back with a nod of his own. "A—and thank you for the excellent coffee."

Even after he left, she waited until he was across the street and completely out of sight before she let out a long, dramatic breath, immediately followed by a, "Holy shit."

And little did she know, it took everything within him not to keep looking back at the café as he left it—and her—behind.

DAY 5

She should have known it was too good to be true. In fact, if it weren't for the vivid physical and emotional reaction she'd had to seeing him lasting for days after it happened, she would have though she'd imagined the entire interaction. Spencer was quite literally the man of her dreams, if only because that's the one and only place he seemed to exist as of late.

Of course, it'd only been five days, and there was a possibility that he could come in again. Right?

Y/N shook away all thoughts of him as best as she could, focusing her attention to cleaning up the tables and closing for the night. The café was empty, the last customer having left no more than five minutes ago. But even as she cleaned tables, Y/N kept the sign on the door flipped to 'OPEN'— because the café closed for good at 10pm, and it was only 9:47. Though no one ever came in past 9:30, she figured it was better safe than sorry.

Soon enough, the small café started to smell more like lemon-scented surface cleaner than coffee, but Y/ didn't mind. In fact, as much as she loved the smell of coffee, after a long day it started to give her a little headache, one that instantly cleared once she started cleaning and closing up. It was calming, getting the place ready for the next day in the peace and quiet. She always turned half of the lights off so it wasn't as bright, a fact she was grateful for especially after the sun went down, but mostly because it made the place feel more atmospheric. Dim lighting during nightfall was probably Y/N's favorite feeling in the world.

At least, she thought it was.

She wasn't so sure anymore when the bell on the door rang and she turned around to see the man of her dreams, in all his tall, well-dressed, beautiful glory. 

She froze instantly, the bottle of cleaner falling softly from her hands and dropping onto the table, making her jump.

"Oh, I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Spencer said quietly.

"N—no, it's... Um, it's fine," Y/N laughed, more embarrassed than anything. "I just wasn't expecting anyone to come in so late, we usually don't get anyone after 9:30."

"Yeah, I... I know it's late, I apologize, um... I just got back from work and I figured I'd stop by for a pick-me-up, i—if that's alright."

There he went again, acting like being in her presence was such an inconvenience for her, and it made her stomach do flip flops. There was no way he wasn't a figment of her imagination, right? He always showed up at the weirdest time, nervously asking for a cup of coffee like he wasn't supposed to be there.

Granted, this was only the second time it's happened, but the sentiment remained the same.

Either way, Y/N was happy to oblige.

"It's always alright. What can I get you this time?" She smoothed out her apron before sprinting behind the counter, turning on a lamp in the back that illuminated more of the kitchen.

"Oh, a black coffee is fine."

She couldn't help but laugh as she grabbed a to-go cup. "No mountains of sugar this time?"

To her surprise, he laughed back, and the sound made her feel warm. She wasn't looking at him because she was laser-focusing on the coffee making as to not make another embarrassment of herself, but she could see his smile in her head all the same. Hopefully the dimmer lighting wouldn't give her away, another stupid grin rising to her face.

"Mountains of sugar would be fantastic, actually," he said, his voice ever so warm and friendly, albeit soft. He was obviously tired, and if he was looking to stay awake, this coffee would definitely do the trick for a few hours.

"You sound like you had quite a long day," Y/N observed as she started brewing a new pot of coffee.

"Long week, more like... Work has been... a little rough."

The exhaustion threaded in his voice made her heart ache a little. "I'm sorry to hear that. Though, it sounds like you should be getting sleep instead of coffee."

When Spencer laughed this time, it was humorless. "Yeah, well, in my line of work sleep doesn't really come easily..."

Y/N glanced up at him then to see his head tilted upward as he stared at the ceiling. The dim lights of the café accentuated the peak of his nose and his jawline, and if not for the clear exhaustion highlighting his features, she would have taken more excitement in the fact that he was there, standing in front of her looking like a beautiful sculpture for free.

Though that was definitely an upside to him finally stopping by again, deep down she knew the reason he was there now wasn't because of her; He needed coffee, some semblance of comfort and probably normalcy after a shitty week. And Y/N was inclined to understand exactly how he felt in that regard.

"I'm sorry to hear that," is all she said on the subject. But she had an idea, hoping to brighten his day just a little, to bring another smile to his face. "Tell you what, I'll give you an extra coffee, no additional charge, and if you want, I'll even send you on your way with some of these extra muffins."

The half-worried, 'oh-shit-I'm-being-a-hassle' look on his face was almost familiar at this point, making Y/N laugh a little to herself.

"O—oh, Y/N, I couldn't do that, I—"

Ignoring the feeling she got when he said her name aloud, she stopped him, shook her head, and started pouring the freshly brewed coffee into two large to-go cups. "Really, Spencer, it's fine. I'll have to throw it all out otherwise, and this way it saves me the trouble. Trust me, you'd be doing me a favor."

"A—are you sure? I don't want to get you in trouble..."

"I own the place," she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "And since I'm my own boss, I can confidently say that I won't get in trouble."

Though his smile wasn't as wide as she remembered, the sweetness and utter thankfulness she saw in it this time around was enough to call it a win. "Thank you... A—and again, I know it's late, I'm sorry for coming in—"

"Nonsense. You're welcome here any time," she reassured him with a smile almost as sweet as his coffee.

Maybe one day Spencer would stop apologizing, but as long as he kept returning to the café, Y/N didn't mind whether he did or not.

DAY 30 

Y/N was feeling rather bold today. Not bold enough to actually ask him out or anything, but bold enough to have his order ready when he came in.

Over time she learned that Spencer's work schedule was pretty random, that he traveled a lot, therefore he probably wouldn't be in every day. But a few days ago, he mentioned he was scheduled for a week off, which rarely happened, and today marked the fifth day of his mini vacation— every single day prior, he stopped in at exactly 9:00am. 

Taking the chance that he would be stopping in a fifth day in a row, Y/N was already making his usual coffee at 8:50.

Beside her, her friend and employee, Heather, snickered, finishing up with a customer and teasing Y/N with an evil grin. "You're so whipped."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she responded quietly, stirring in the mountains of sugar and setting the spoon down beside the cup.

"If you don't ask him out, Y/N, I swear... No way a man like that's gonna stay single forever, you gotta make your move."

"Who says I'm not going to?"

"Oh, so when you hand him his coffee today, you're going to give him your number and not just freeze and chicken out? You know, like you always do?"

She glared at Heather, but it only lasted for a split second before it turned into a look of pure pining and sadness. Pathetic... "Probably not..."

Heather patted Y/N on the shoulder. "It's alright, babe. When he comes in, just be yourself. He obviously likes you, enough to come in every day for your shitty coffee..."

The shit-eating grin on her friend's face was enough to make Y/N laugh again, and she shook her head, then turned back to put the lid on Spencer's cup. "Yeah, yeah... We'll see what happens. But I get what you're saying."

As Heather went off to clean some tables, Y/N wrote out his name on the cup, contemplating whether or not she should put her number next to it. What could be the harm in that, right? It was cute and charming as hell.

Just as she was about to write the first number down the chimes sounded above the door, and as some type of Pavlovian response, Y/N set down the marker and looked up to see if it was him. Instantly she berated herself for being so obvious, but by the look on Spencer's face when he approached, he didn't look phased in the slightest.

"Hey, Sugar," Y/N called out to him, sliding him the coffee and feeling butterflies swarm her stomach at the look on his face when he heard the nickname.

Then she realized she called him by a nickname...

Even though he still smiled and took the coffee, reaching into his pocket for money and clearly not phased in the least by her affectionate nickname for him, it still made her insides flare with a little embarrassment. And if she wasn't nervous about seeing him before, she most certainly was now that he was in front of her, smiling at her and being as kind and charming as ever with few words.

He was going to leave, grabbing the cup and turning, but halfway to the door, he turned back around, and when he spoke it sounded like he was as nervous as she was.

"Oh, um... I'm leaving to visit my mom this weekend, so, I just... Wanted to let you know... You know, so you don't waste your time and resources on my order..."

Though he was obviously looking out for her, Y/N still felt this overwhelming flood of foolishness, like he actually did find it strange that she memorized his order and made it for him so it would be ready on the dot when he got there. She figured, just for a moment, that it was his subtle way of telling her he thought she was taking things to a whole new level of weird.

"O—Oh, sure. Thanks for the heads up. Enjoy your weekend." She gave him her best smile, hoping her insecurity didn't bleed through.

But then he said, "You, too, Y/N," and smiled back, looking at her for a moment that lingered just a little too long before turning away. And before he actually walked out the door, he stopped and looked back at her again, giving a small wave as his face showed all signs of reluctance to leave.

She wasn't sure how long she stared at the empty doorway, but Heather's laugh broke her from the trance.

"You know you have nothing to worry about, right? He's definitely into you."

"You... You think?" she returned softly.

"I know. The next time he comes in, give him your number."

DAY 84

Turns out, Heather was completely wrong.

Y/N hadn't seen Spencer for weeks, and then the next time he came in, there was a girl with him. Y/N tried extra hard not to jump to conclusions— maybe she was just a friend? Or a sibling, or a co-worker... And besides, even if the girl was dating him, it's not like it would have been any of her business, right? She barely knew the guy, and though it hurt to have this stupid crush on him just to find out he had a girlfriend and she'd misread the entire situation, that's all it was. A crush.

A crush that, in the end, well... crushed her.

Because the girl was, in fact, his girlfriend. He didn't really introduce her at first, but the second day they came into the café together, they were holding hands. And the girl, short and pretty and adorning a beautiful mane of long, red hair, clung to his side, giving him the same doe eyes Y/N had been teased by Heather for giving him that day he'd left. Not to mention, when they ordered, the girl called him "Babe".

It was absolutely crushing.

Y/N didn't want to cry, because it was stupid for a grown woman to cry over some dude she barely knew, right? But that didn't stop the tears from welling as soon as said dude and his freaking girlfriend stepped out of the café, leaving her behind with an ache that she hadn't felt in ages.

She and Heather went out drinking that night, and after a few days of wallowing, Y/N promptly decided that Spencer and his stupid, beautiful face and his stupid, beautiful girlfriend could kiss her ass.

Of course, immediately after, she felt bad for thinking so negatively and just settled on staying out of their business.

But it didn't help that they came in almost every day for months. Even when Spencer was at work, therefore absent, his girlfriend was there. Jeannie, her name was. She had a regular order, too, one that Y/N couldn't help but dread making every morning but did anyway, even going so far as to have it ready for her when she came in. And Jeannie was incredibly nice, a fact which Y/N hated because it would have been way easier to deal with if she was awful. At least then, she could have maybe felt better about herself for being a nicer person, but she knew that wasn't fair.

This particular day, though, Spencer came in alone. And despite herself, the first thing Y/N said to him was, "Where's Jeannie?"

Maybe she should have known by the look on his face, but he sighed, returning her question with a simple, "Delaware."

Y/N started to make his usual order, keeping the conversation light even though she was inwardly sighing at he prospect of discussing his girlfriend's whereabouts. "What's she doing there?"

She wasn't looking at him, but the sadness in his voice stopped her in her tracks. "She's there with her husband."

"Uh... What?"

"Turns out she's been engaged for the past five years... They, uh... Took a break to see other people to really see if they wanted to get married, and I guess they... got married. Last week."

"Holy shit. Spencer, I... I don't know what to say, I'm... sorry..."

He didn't say anything, only giving a half-hearted smile that conveyed more sadness than anything. Y/N hated that someone had the audacity to make him feel that way... to use him like that without at the very least telling him her situation first, before getting into a relationship.

She finished his order, but before handing it to him, she reached for a blueberry muffin and wrapped it up. And as he took money out of his pocket, she sook her head and slid his things over across the counter. "Everything's on the house today."

"Y/N, you don't have t—"

"I insist. Jeannie did a stupid thing, and you deserve better than that... You deserve something good. And I know this is small and probably nothing, but I don't care."

A little of the sadness from his smile replaced itself with amusement, and Y/N decided she'd take it. He muttered a small, "Thank you," before grabbing his coffee, but before he took the muffin he looked her dead in the eye and deposited the five dollar bill from his other hand straight into the tip jar.

She sighed and shook her head at him.

But that only widened the smile on his face, most of the sadness gone. In fact, it looked more like a satisfied smirk as he grabbed the muffin and turned to leave.

Despite Spencer's refusal to not pay, Y/N found herself smiling as he left.

DAY 174

Thankfully there were no more girlfriends after that. 

Well, okay, it wasn't fair of Y/N to say that, because if she wanted to take her shot she would have, and she couldn't get mad every time he had a new girlfriend. 

But of course, that didn't mean she couldn't be relieved every time she saw him walk in alone.

This time it was Valentine's Day. The café was decorated with sparkly red garland and pink, red, and white hearts that dangled from the ceiling. All the flowers on the tables were replaced with roses and tealight candles, and currently, almost everyone was rushing to buy the chocolate-covered strawberry arrangements that Y/N made herself. 

She was currently in the back, working on making more when Heather came rushing to the room, calling out her name.

A small panic started to sink in, because if Heather needed more supplies or more of the strawberry arrangements, she would have just sent back a ring of the bell on the doorway to the kitchen. But she almost knocked over said arrangements on her way in, and Y/N was worried that maybe something bad happened.

"Heather, what's wrong?" she asked hurriedly, smearing chocolate all over her apron.

"Nothing's wrong, but your boy is here. He's asking to see you!"

Her heart leapt out of her chest, and suddenly it was like the wind got knocked out of her. "S—Spencer?"

"Yes!" Heather half-squealed, reaching out to pull at Y/N's arm. "Go!"

"Wait! Wait, how... how do I look?"

"Take off the apron, pull down your shirt a little."

"Heather!"

"You asked! If he's here to ask you out, why not give him a little preview? Now c'mon, hand the apron over." She held her hand out, waiting for Y/N to take it off.

She grumbled as she did, suddenly more nervous than she'd ever been. Her hands shook as she untied the apron and threw it over to Heather. She looked down at the deep red v-neck she wore and sighed, pulling it down a little to give a better view of her cleavage. She fluffed her hair out, letting out a huge sigh and then shaking out her hands.

"You're hot, now go!" Heather exclaimed, practically pushing her out of the kitchen and into the bright café main room.

The moment Y/N stepped out, she saw him immediately. And as always, he looked absolutely perfect... In the last few months, he'd let his hair grow out a little, strands of it tucked behind his ear while most of it fell loose atop his head. Currently he was wearing a long coat, though she couldn't tell what was underneath. But she didn't need to know, really, because he could have showed up wearing a garbage bag and she still would have practically drooled at the sight of him.

Swallowing, Y/N made her way over to him with a smile, Heather following behind.

"Hi," she said, hoping her nerves wouldn't show through. "Heather said you asked for me?"

"U—uh, yeah. Hi, um... Sorry if you're busy, I just wanted to... stop by, say Happy Valentine's Day..."

Her heart beat faster than it ever had, and seeing him smile this nervously in her direction made it all the more endearing. "Oh, thank you," she said, giving him a small wave and then wondering why when she could have done literally anything else... Wink? Finger guns?—No, Y/N, what are you thinking? Just keep cool and talk to him like a normal person! "Do you... have any plans?"

Spencer stood still, seemingly starstruck by the question for a few, long, seconds before blinking and slightly shaking his head. "O—Oh, yeah, um... Some friends and I are going out for drinks later, that's all. Should be kinda boring, actually, not really my scene..."

"Oh... Boring's nice, though, sometimes. Personally all the huge Valentine's Day plans are kinda over-the-top anyway." She might as well have been wearing a sign on her forehead that said Lie! Lie! Lie!

He laughed, though, and Y/N's heart sunk. "Yeah, you're right... Um, I'll let you get back to work, then, I just wanted to stop in and say hi." 

"Oh... You don't... want coffee or anything? I—I've got these chocolate-covered strawberry arrangements, too, if you want one. You know, 'cause why not?"

"Oh! Uh, sure. That... That sounds great."

His smile lit her insides on fire, ad she tried desperately not to stumble as she worked her way through the kitchen, making everything. He waited patiently by the side of the counter, trying equally as hard not to keep sneaking glances at her as she worked. Meanwhile the pink post-it note with his phone number in red ink burned in his pocket, his hands shaking as he struggled to think of a scenario in which he wouldn't fumble with it and completely make a fool of himself. Because now that he was there, in her presence, it was a lot harder to pretend like he had the confidence to actually ask her out.

And when she brought his order, she flashed that beautiful smile and he knew immediately that he would never be able to give her the post-it. Whether she knew it or not, she made him nervous, and if he was going  to mess everything up, he certainly wasn't going to do it in a café full of people on Valentine's Day. He'd never recover.

So Spencer accepted the coffee and the small bouquet of fruit, trying his best not to drop it with shaky hands. "Thank you. How much?"

"For you, on the house," Y/N returned. "And please don't just put a 5 in the tip jar. I'm getting really tired of you doing that."

They both laughed, the memories of every time since the last time he'd done it sparking between them like lightning. Almost every time she insisted on giving him his coffee for free, he pulled a 5-dollar bill from his pocket and landed it in the jar, and every time she rolled her eyes at him and told him to get out.

"Well, I have to give you something," Spencer insisted, the paper in his pocket burning even hotter.

Likewise, Y/N felt like she was going to lose her balance again. Was he going to ask her out? Heaven forbid, would he kiss her? "What do you have in mind?"

The deep tone of her voice sent a chill through him, and in that moment it was now or never. So he set the coffee down on the counter and reached into his pocket. Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her with a raise of his eyebrows. "It's not what you think. I promise."

Somehow she didn't believe him.

But then he pulled out a hot pink piece of paper and slipped it in the tip jar instead, his eyes never leaving hers. "I really hope you empty the jar at the end of every day, otherwise this is going to be a little embarrassing."

"What... What is it?" she asked softly, though she already had an inkling of the answer.

And then he said something that made her heart soar. "I think you already know."

Sure enough, Y/N looked down and saw numbers written on the sheet of paper through the glass. She smiled, letting it burn heart-shaped holes into her eyes.

Spencer was gone when she looked back up, but the image of him was still seared into her brain.

DAY 366

They hadn't even made it out of the parking lot. And you'd think that after months of dating and going on dates he would have been used to how pretty she looked, but alas, yet again he couldn't wait, and now Spencer and Y/N were laying in the backseat of her car, praying no one had just seen what went down not twenty minutes ago.

"You know what, I think that has to be a record," she laughed, combing through his damp hair with her fingers. "I didn't even have my seatbelt on yet."

He laughed with her. "You know I'm impatient..."

"Yeah, and I also know that we're certainly not going to make those dinner reservations you worked so hard all month to get. All that hard work, for nothing!"

He scoffed, though the smirk on his face never faltered. "I hardly think it was for nothing... You are definitely something... Besides, I had to, because today is very special."

"Oh, and why's that?"

"Well... I don't know if you know this, but you and I met exactly one year ago today. And I've never been the same since."

Y/N looked up at him, eyes wide. "Has... Has it really been that long already?"

"Mhm... And it only seems like it hasn't been that long because we've only been technically dating for 192 days... But I wanted to celebrate anyway. Because no matter how long we've been dating, I've actually been enamored by you for 366 days. And counting."

Warmth flooded through her veins as she hugged him tighter to her, pressing a kiss to his jaw before nuzzling into his neck. "Oh, Sugar... I love you."

Spencer smiled fondly at the nickname, thinking back to all the times he'd watched her pour a shit-ton of sugar into his coffee at her cute little café— the one he'd only ever stumbled on by accident because he was running late for work and needed a quick fix of caffeine. Turns out it had been the best accident he'd ever stumbled into.

"I love you, too, Y/N."

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[cuddlesslut]

Part Five: Friends

Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x fem reader , Hinata x fem reader

A/N: ahh this took me so long to write sorry guys! Been having a tough few days. But we are back in the game. So This chapter is mainly the relationship between Hinata and YN! I love Hinata so much im actually thinking about making another series with him after this one is done. Let me know if y’all would be interested. I decided to put a little NSFW scene in but there is a warning.

Warnings: Angst, some fluff, Smut. And more Angst.

Part Four: Chance Encounters

Part Six: Promises

The night you spent with Hinata is no less than amazing. You don’t remember passing out, but your eyes open from your groggy sleep. It takes you a moment to register that this is not your room. Your eyes widened realizing you had stayed the night which was not something you’d had planned on. You take in your surroundings Hinata lays behind you and arm draped over your waist. Your heart speeds up as you understand how close he is to you, his face nuzzled close to your neck. You could feel his light snores. Oh my goodness! You screamed in your head IM IN A MANS BED! AND HES CUDDLING ME! You had never slept with anyone other than Atsumu let alone cuddled. So this was a lot to process. The hardest thing to understand was why it felt so nice in his arms. You quickly shook that thought out of you mind, you probably were just touched starved you rationalized. That’s why you lie to yourself when his grip on your waist tightens and he pulls you closer to his chest, saying it doesn’t make your heart flutter your just nervous.

“Good morning,” he smiles his voice gruff from sleep. “What time is it,” he questions seeing that you had already been awake for a moment.

“I’m not sure,” you admitt rubbing your head, a twinge of pain zinging threw you. You were slightly startled when he leaned over your body reaching for his phone on the nightstand. A heat creeped onto your cheeks at the proximity of your naked bodies only a sheet separating him from your sight. Although the tenderness between your legs showed that you two had been plenty close the prior night. Thinking of some the activities that transpired last night caused more embarrassment to consume you. You did things with this complete stranger that had taken you forever to work yourself up to with Tsumu. You body was sore from the multiple rounds the ginger had put you through, his stamina was insane, although you couldn’t complain he aimed to please. He laid back down in his spot next to you checking his phone.

“It’s about to be 9:30, he yawns rubbing the sleep from his warm chestnut eyes. You peek over at him getting a better look of his physique in the daylight. Your eyes widened because damn was he hot. He laid on his side propped up on one elbow as he stared at the screen of his device. Your eyes trailed down his exposed chest and abdomen his defined abs and pecks on full display for you. As you look farther down the blanket falls carelessly over his lap one leg peeking out. You raised an eyebrow at the little peek of a tan line you could see. You were broke from you trance as he asks you a question.

“You wanna go get some breakfast?,” your eyes widened “ I’d offer to cook but my fridge is still pretty empty and plus my cooking sucks I’d hate to make you suffer through that,” he chuckled. It was too much this is supposed to be just sex, and breakfast sounds to much like a date, too domestic. You sit up quickly holding the sheet to your chest.

“Ah no I can’t, i-I uhhh need to go,” you stammered looking around the room for your clothes.

“Hey, hey it’s fine,” he try’s to calm you seeing how anxious you are. “you stay right here I’ll go grab your clothes and let you get changed,” he said standing pulling a pair of boxers on. You nodded and steadied your breathing as he went to gather your outfit from last night.

“There you go that should be everything,” he laid the pile on the bed next to you, “uhh sorry about your underwear,” he smiled nervously reaching his hand up to rub the back of his neck. You looked down at the pair of torn lace panties siting at the top of the pile.

You returned an embarrassed smile, “it’s okay,” you assure him.

“Well I’ll be in the kitchen making some coffee, uh the restroom is right out the door to the left if you need it, uhh take your time,” he said excusing himself to give you some privacy.

You take a moment to breath before you start to dress yourself. It felt a little strange to not have on underwear but you guess it’s a small price to pay for the pleasure you felt last night. You won’t lie you definitely needed that stress relief. You quickly finished putting yourself together before exiting the room seeing Hinata standing there at the counter full of confidence for being in only boxers with coffee mug in hand you notice his smile that never seems to stray far from his face just as present.

“Would you like a cup,” he asked gesturing to the still half full pot of coffee.

You smile politely smile before shaking your head no. “Uh I need to get going I have class today, but ..” you trail off trying to figure out how to word what needs to come next. “umm look thank for the offer for breakfast and you know for last night,” he breaks into a big smirk at the mention of last night’s activities. “ but I’m not looking for a relationship so it’s probably best we leave it off here,” still smiling, yet not as big as before, he nods. You breath a sigh of relief.

“No worries I get it.”

“Well in that case, goodbye Shoyo, see ya,” you gave a small wave before exiting his apartment.

Hopefully, Hinata thinks to himself wanting to in deed see you again.

As much as you swore it was a one time occurrence you kept finding yourself back in Shoyo's bed. It was always the same you’d head to your bar, sit in your usual spot, order your usual drink and before long you’d see the orange haired man take his seat next to you. The first time you saw him after your lust filled night together was rather awkward. You were surprised when he sat to you and struck up a conversation like you hadn’t had a one night stand just last week. But the chatting was always so easy going you honestly didn’t mind having him around. Plus with him there less men were trying to chat you up. That second time you met him you told yourself you’d keep your pants on but a couple drinks and several laughs later you’d find yourself in his bed with the ginger in between your legs. You could never find it in yourself to be angry at yourself afterwards ,And while this started happening more frequently it was rare you’d stay the night like that first time. Usually getting an Uber home after getting dicked down. You couldn’t lie it was exhilarating being with Shoyo. Although if you were still pretty hammered Hinata would insist you stay not wanting something bad to happen on your way home. He’d offer you his bed while he opted for the couch. Eventually your routine changed you both swapped numbers and soon enough you weren’t meeting at the bar before heading to his place you weren’t needing the aid of alcohol to loosen you up before finding yourself in his bed... or his shower or really any surface in his apartment. You were both insatiable. In time you weren’t rushing away immediately after. Choosing to indulge him , you’ve come to realize that Hinata really enjoyed cuddling and aftercare. Always lighting up when you’d let him pamper you after a particularly rough or extensive session. He’d gladly spoil you after every round but you were still hesitant on to much intimacy. But occasionally you’d satisfy his want for cuddles. Although you’d deny it you rather enjoyed laying in his embrace feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat lull you to sleep. That was another change you no longer accepted him sleeping on the couch when you stayed overnight not wanting to be an inconvenience but also knowing he’d never allow you to take the couch you stopped him one night stating that you’d like him to stay. His eyes lit up as he pounced back into the bed.

But you stayed firm in the fact that you weren’t looking for a relationship and he assured you that he understood and was okay with the arrangement. And that’s how it’s been for the last two months. It had been seven months since your relationship with Atsumu had ended and you would have never guessed that in seven month you’d be in a casual friends with benefits relationship with Hinata. And that’s what you would call yourselves, Hinata was your friend and you his. You steadily got to know each other more and more about each other’s lives. You were a little concerned when you found out it wasn’t solely beach volleyball he played but you put your worries to the side volleyball was a big enough sport. Right? All in all you’d say slowly but surely you were getting happier. You found yourself thinking of you know who less, and some of the pain was starting to subside. Although that distrust was still there. You were still broken. As close as you and Sho got there was still part of you that couldn’t trust yet. How did you know he wouldn’t get bored of you just like the setter had. You weren’t ready to put yourself up to get hurt again. You wanted to trust Hinata he was an amazing guy so kind and understanding never pushing you past what you were comfortable with. He constantly looked out for you checking on you during some of your intense study sessions as you readied for finals always making sure you were taking care of yourself and not overworking. If you stayed over he’d always make sure to set an extra alarm so you wouldn’t be late for class or work. It meant so much to you how much he cared but you just couldn’t believe in it , you had believed that Atsumu cared about you yet that was a lie. Who’s to say this wouldn’t end up just the same. That’s why you wanted to just be friends, a small part still kept a window of hope open that one day it may be more but it wouldn’t be fair to Hinata to bring up any of this while filled with so much uncertainty.

NSFW below if you’d rather not read it skip the first three paragraphs.

You laid there breaths ragged as Hinata pinned you to the bed your legs pressed to your chest as he pounded into you relentlessly. This was his favorite position he loved being so close to you being able to see all of the pleasure in your face as he worked your body over, your tits bouncing to the rhythm he set.

“Sho,” you moaned your thoughts clouded as he built up yet another orgasm, this was your third one since you had stepped foot into his bedroom.

“What’s that baby?” He smirks as he see you struggle to form words. He loved making you like this. Eyes crossed as you gasped for air, craving the release he’d give you. “Fuck beautiful you know how much I love it when your so fucked out you can’t speak straight,” he laughed. You smile at him happy to provide him with what he likes. Hinata was getting lost in his lust. He freed one of your legs letting it rest against his shoulder as he grabbed his headboard for a better angle as he started drilling into you. A loud whimper ripped threw you. You felt so full as his cock reached so deep into you. You knew you were done for and Sho could tell as well , “ that’s it beautiful go ahead and cum for me, fuck your so gorgeous like this,” he groaned as he followed you into his own release spilling himself into the condom.

You laid there breathless. Hinata stood disposing of the used rubber, he exited the room going to grab a soft wet rag and a glass of water making sure to clean and rehydrate you before climbing back into bed and pulling you onto his chest. You both laid there for a while catching you breath, your head resting on his chest arm wrapped around him as you nuzzled further into him. You could feel his heartbeat start to stabilize. He trailed one his hand up and down your back in a very soothing pattern. It felt amazing honestly laying here with him was better than anything you had ever experienced with Tsumu.

You couldn’t see it but Hinata laid there with the goofiest grin as much as he loved sex with you this was his favorite part. Holding you in his arms so tight calming you while you are still so vulnerable. He wishes it could be like this all the time. That he could wrap his arms around you at anytime to hold you whenever he wants, to wake up to your beautiful bed head. He pushes those thoughts to the side as much as he wants you to be his he knows you aren’t ready and the last thing he’d want to do is rush you. You had told him a while back about your ex and everything he had put you threw and how betrayed you were by his actions. You never told him who your ex was and he didn’t ask it wasn’t his place you’d tell him if he needed to know and he knew that. He hated how much your ex had broken you but all he wanted to do was to do his best to fix the damage done. As much as he wanted to be able to call you his , he was happy to wait.

You were finally back to normal but you weren’t ready to leave his embrace. You decided to strike up a some casual pillow talk. You asked him about his day, how his morning run had went. He asked if you were excited about graduation seeing as it was only a month away. You told him about some annoying customers you had at the cafe this morning. You were smiling up at him laughing at the story story he was telling when his eyes lit up!

“That’s right I haven’t told you yet but I made it through try outs!” He boasted. “ I made the team!” You could see the happiness radiating off of him. For some reason you got an unsettling feeling in your gut. You put it to the side.

“THATS AMAZING SHO!” You yelled launching forward wrapping him in a tight hug. “What team?”

“I’ll be playing for the MSBY Black Jackels,” he grins. You feel everything slow down. The words are still processing in your mind. No it can’t be! Why? Why did it have to be his team! Out of all the teams in Japan why did Hinata have to go to the one who’s starting setter ruined you. Suddenly all of the thoughts and memories of Atsumu that had been hidden from you recently came crashing back to you. You wanted nothing to do with him. You couldn’t do it, for the same reason you had pushed away all of your friends and uprooted your life you couldn’t do this, you couldn’t let him back into your life you weren’t nearly ready for him to be in anyway connected to your life. All of the these overwhelming thoughts at were crashing over you were interrupted when Hinata asked his question. One you knew the answer to but couldn’t give to him.

“We have a game next week, would you come watch me play?” He smiled at you. You looked up at him saddness in your eyes. You quickly stood up gathering and putting on your clothes. Stammering for a response. Hinata sat up in alarm at your sudden actions he could sense something wasn’t right. He waits for you to speak seeing you try to form your words. Now fully dressed. You looked up at him his normally smiling face wasn’t there instead it was a face of worry.

“ I-I can’t Shoyo, I can’t go to your game,” you looked around grabbing your purse and phone, “I need to go Sho.” Hinata was now standing he was so confused everything was just fine what had gone wrong. Had he pushed you to far? Was inviting you to his game to intimate?

“Wait YN,” he said reaching for you he need to know you were okay.

“ I’m so so sorry Shoyo I just need to leave, I’m so sorry,” you said frantically looking into his eyes trying to truly express your sincerity in your apology. It wasn’t his fault. He was just excited about his dream and here you were ruining the moment. You always ruin everything you chastised yourself. With one last woeful look you were gone out the door. Hinata was left there in utter confusion. He let out a sigh before sitting back down on the bed letting out a groan of frustration.

You closed the door to your apartment with a thud finally allowing the tears you were keeping in to flow free. You kicked off your shoes before throwing yourself onto your bed. You let out a scream of frustration into your pillow as sobs over came you. The exhaustion of the day took you over and soon you were out like a light.

You woke up a couple hours later it was only around seven o’clock and your stomach was growling. This wasn’t going to be a good night. You look at your phone seeing several texts and a missed call from the ginger. You let out a groan, first you needed food and then you needed booze. You went to your bathroom taking a quick shower finally cleaning your post sex body. Before putting on a simple outfit. You slipped out your apartment door and out into the Tokyo night. You stopped at one of your favorite food stalls getting a small bowl of ramen to warm your tired soul. Normally you’d head to your Usual bar but you couldn’t there was the chance of running into Shoyo there and that’s not something you were ready for. You pulled out your phone finding a bar not to far out of your area, it had a sleeker vibe but maybe a little change would be good. So with that you head straight there. Its more crowded than what you were used to. It had a more lively crowd than you local bar. There were couples dancing and large groups of friends standing around and laughing. You head to the bar starting off with two shots straight back to back. Tonight wasn’t a night you wanted to go easy. You sat down at the bar nursing the drinking you had just ordered. You thought back to the incident with Hinata, he must hate you, you figured. He was always there for you yet one mention of you ex and you couldn’t even suck it up to be happy for him. You hated that. He deserved better than what you gave him. You were getting lost in your thoughts letting you mind go down a rabbit hole. Finally you looked up from your drink eyes scanning the bar. And that’s when it happens your eyes lock onto each other from the other side of the bar. It felt like all the air in your lungs suddenly evaporated. It felt unreal like you weren’t really seeing him standing there. He looked just as stunned like he had just seen a ghost. He snaps out of his first and when he starts to walk towards you it finally hits you that it’s really him. You finally breath and when you do his name leaves your lips.

“Suna,”

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[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby. 

Day 2: That’s Not Exactly Folgers In Your Cup

Warnings: Smut (Oral) and Bad Language Words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N- Hello! I hope y’all are as excited about this holiday special collaboration made with @what-is-your-plan-today​ and @jennmurawski13​ as I am. It all blossomed from early morning (for me) ramblings and we decided to do it. 2020 has been a hell of a year and we all needed a little something to smile about. And come on, whats funnier then imagining Ransom Drysdale trying to be domestic? Plus it gives some feels. There will be smut written in occasionally, so please heed the warnings to each individual fic. 

Also, we are alternating, but will reblog on our accounts, if you don’t want to miss any, send a message and we will get you added to the tag list. Happy Reading. 

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Ransom woke before you, the early morning light streaming through the window cut right across his face and he swore into the pillow while rolling to his back to sling his arm over his eyes to cut off the annoyance. He was almost there, back in that blissful state of unconsciousness when his body took over and insisted he get up. Any further attempt to return to sleep was now disrupted when natural morning urges overtook him and he sighed while lifting his arm to let the light return, blinking rapidly to adjust to the the most inconvenient thing to plague him at this hour. 

Next to him you were still asleep, soundly, peacefully which made him scowl at you for being so blissfully unconscious. He envied you in this moment as he rolled up from bed and trudged into the bathroom to take care of himself. Afterwards once he came back out, he grabbed a pair of grey sweatpants and slipped them on. You would be waking up soon, and there was one thing you always wanted before anything else, even before you were pregnant, it was a must have or else. Now you valued this all that much more since his child seemed to just suck all the energy from you, savored it more then he savored his biscoff cookies. 

Your coffee. And hell be damned if you didn't get your coffee. 

Now typically you make it, liking a certain amount of scoops to get you through the morning, touch of cream and a little sprinkle of sugar just to take the bite out of it. Ransom has seen you make it countless times in the morning, your over sized tee hanging around your thighs and hair piled atop your head. Your eyes would be closed while you measured, you just knew it down to the action how you wanted it. He never tried to mess with your perfection. In fact he learned early on to stay out of your way the first twenty minutes in the morning unless he was taking care of you between the sheets. That was the only equivalent you were accepting of in the morning. 

This morning Ransom felt a twinge of affection now that he was awake, seeing you shift into the middle of the bed and pull his pillow into your chest like you were hugging it. Gently he leaned over and brushed the flyaway hair from your forehead and pressed a kiss there before leaving the bedroom to head downstairs. 

Typically you just made Ransom a coffee too, it became almost a habit for him to want it, although he didn't need it, not like you did. But yea, he craved it and decided that this morning, since he was already up, he would just do it himself. Regardless of the fact that you had forbidden him to touch the coffee maker for some reason. Which fuck it was in his kitchen, if he wanted to use it he was going to. 

“Can't be that hard, dump some grounds in, put in the fucking water.” He flipped off the top of the coffee maker to see if you pre-filled it the night before, sometimes you did. Last night was not the case though. Reached into the cupboard for the precious Starbucks coffee and opened the bag to breathe in the strong coffee bean aroma. Okay, he had to admit it was a pleasant smell, and already he could feel himself feel a bit more upbeat. He ended up setting it aside and searched everywhere for the measuring spoon, leaving a slight kitchen destruction in his path of open drawers and stuff piled on top of the kitchen counter, he just eyeballed dumping the coffee in. Completely forgetting the filter in the process. 

Impatiently he waited, fingers tapping on the counter as the drip drip drip started. “It would be faster just to have someone deliver.” He muttered to himself, contemplating how much you would protest possibly hiring a housekeeper. Fran was decent… enough. He thought to himself. Aside from her being the most annoying woman his grandfather had hired. Of course she could be useful when the occasion called for it. Like now, how fucking easy would it be if someone was just delivering you two the coffee in bed.  

Already he knew you probably weren't going to go for it, it was fine for Harlan according to you because he needed the help. In fact when he brought it up, your eyes rolled and you scoffed at him. “You are kidding right Ransom? You are a grown ass man, do it yourself.” 

 When the coffee maker finally gave the last spurt, and sounded exhausted, Ransom shook his head from the memory and turned to pull down two mugs and proceeded to pour into each. It was black, blacker than usual. He sniffed it, and needless to say it was STRONG. 

Ransom just kept going, grabbing your half and half, as well as the small bit of sugar you like, he stirred it all together and brought it back up the stairs. 

You were just waking up when he reentered the bedroom. Your arms lifting up to hit lightly against the headboard and your wiggling fingers while giving a yawn, you inhaled the strong scent of coffee and immediately pushed to sit. 

“What is that? Is that what I think it is?” Your eyes widened as Ransom set the mug down on your nightstand with a roll of his eyes. 

“Well good morning to you to Princess.” he stated as you grinned at him, reaching over for the mug while he sat on the end of the bed. You didn't dare take a sniff as if to check, not with the way Ransom was watching you intently and you just took a sip. 

It hit your mouth with a ferocity that brought tears to brim to your eyes, and your taste buds screamed in protest at the gritty black death you were forcing yourself to swallow, doing everything you could to keep from spitting it out. You were just thankful that this morning you were dealing with morning sickness, yet. Somehow you forced the bitter liquid down your throat and tried to keep a straight face, as you were touched with Ransom’s act of kindness, something he was still working on. But there was no hiding your expression, as hard as you tried to keep it from Ransom.

His head dropped when he saw your face. “Fucking terrible isn’t it? See this is why you should let me hire a housekeeper.” 

“Ransom, it tastes just fine. And we don’t need a housekeeper. This house isn't all that big.” You rolled your eyes as you showed him you were right by taking another sip of his coffee, forcing a smile on your face. 

“I always had a housekeeper, and I turned out fine.” Ransom rebutted while moving to a stand. “Put that cup down. You can make some later.” He instructed and you were quick to set it aside, relieved not to have to pretend anymore. Ransom yanked the blankets away, making you tumble a bit in bed with a yelp. 

“Ransom! What are you doing?” You looked down at him as he grasped your ankles, sliding you down the bed while he moved to kneel at the end of the bed, smirking at you. 

“Cant make coffee worth shit. But I can do this, and I know you like this just as much.” 

He was right, the man had a mouth on him that you had a hard time resisting, even when he was pissing you off. 

Fingers delved under the band of your sleep shorts and slipped them off before draping your legs over his shoulders and pressing hungry kisses along the inside of your thigh. “Okay, you have me there, maybe I do. I'm a little scared to see what you did down in the kitchen now.” 

“Nothing that can't be cleaned up.” He looked up at you, and you opened your mouth to say something about how you were going to have to clean it when he let his mouth press against your cunt and his tongue bury between the folds. 

That effectively distracted you, making your words stutter from the tip of your tongue into a moan while he lapped at you, shifting between quick flicks to flattening his tongue and dragging through your folds to suck at that bundle of nerves that made you gasp his name in a needy way. Your hands shoot down to twist into his hair, holding onto his scalp while he takes you apart with his mouth. Toes curled into his upper back when he teased you further, your hips starting to rock to meet the darts of his tongue in your clenching channel. You let yourself fall back into the pillows and quit trying to reason with him or make him feel better. You just let yourself experience this new attempt at treating you.

“Please Ransom, I want to come now.” You whined out while his fingers flexed on your hips, keeping you mostly pinned in place although your body was rippling to arch and grind into him. Your heels firmly pressing into his back in an attempt to lever yourself although he was firm in his hold. Unwilling to let you move just yet. Ransom sucked folds of flesh into his mouth, the lower part of his face slick when he lifted to smirk at you, and shifted a heavy forearm across your hips, careful not to press against your stomach. 

“How badly do you want to come, Princess?” He licked at his lips, brighter pink with use then normal and you glared at him down your body. 

“Considering I am growing you spawn in me, you think you would treat me better.” Trying your hand at using guilt to get him into giving you your orgasm, he let his fingers stretch your open, pressing into your warmth. 

“You know I love you, and only treat you fucking good.” His fingers curled to stroke your fluttering walls, enticing you to come for him with every stroke against your sweet spot. “Come on Beautiful, come undone for me so we can start our day.” 

You pressed to arch but he was sure to keep you held down. You started to see stars peppering your eyesight and your mouth dropped open in a silent gasp as you came for him, that rush enveloped you to send tingles all along your nerves, and your voice finally broke out in a soft cry of his name while your toes dug into his flexing back, and fingers twisted in the sheets in a weak attempt to stay grounded. 

It didn't stop him, he kept lapping at your sensitive bud, sucking and driving you to another with steady strokes of his finger. “That was just one... you know we are not stopping Princess until you have had a couple more.”  

Ransom couldn't make coffee to save his life, but he certainly knew how to make you come more than just the one time.

[thishintoflove]

A Sweet Package - BobaDin Week Day 5: AU

Pairing: Din Djarin / Boba Fett

Rating: General (no warnings aside from mild swearing)

Summary: Boba has to deal with an unwanted package at his front door. Luckily, the hassle turns out to be worth it when he meets the package's true owner.

A/N: Here, have some tooth-rotting fluff because these boys deserve it! (ﾉ☉ヮ⚆)ﾉ ⌒*:･ﾟ✧

Also available on AO3

“Ouch, shit, god dammit,” Boba swore as he stubbed his toe.

He shifted his keys to his other hand and leaned against his apartment door as he bent down to rub his toe, glaring at the offending object.

The damn package was in the wrong place. The worst part? He hadn’t even ordered anything recently.

It had been a long day, he was tired, and he didn’t have the time or patience to deal with unwanted shit outside his door.

Boba was inclined to just let it sit there, but he had to move it out of the way if he didn’t want to repeat this stubbed-toe incident tomorrow. As he glanced down again to shove it away with his foot, he noticed that the package had actually come to the correct place, but it had come to the wrong person.

It was his address, but he was certainly not the “Grogu Djarin” to whom it had been addressed.

He’d been living here for almost three months and he hadn’t received any other pieces of mail. Surely there was a forwarding address set up for this Grogu Djarin? The outside label had a personalized message that read, “To Grogu. I love you to the stars and back, little one. Happy Birthday! Love, Dad.”

Ah shit. He was going to have to do something with it.

Boba did not want to be responsible for a kid missing out on his birthday present. Grogu Djarin would probably be expecting his package-- what if this was his only birthday gift? Another closer look at the box revealed a “Perishable: refrigerate after opening” label. Damn, he certainly couldn’t just keep the package and hope that the father in question would come by and collect it. Given its size, weight, and postage markings on it, whoever had ordered it had spent quite a lot on getting it sent.

Boba sighed and bent down to carry the package inside. As he set it down on the kitchen table, he saw that there was no return address, just the information from the company that had sent it. A bakery. A well-known, quite expensive bakery.

He had a very clear picture of what was going on now, but he didn’t know what he could do about it. Boba’s brow furrowed. It wasn’t his responsibility, technically… But the thought of a little boy not receiving his birthday treat, from his father no less, was enough to soften his heart.

He couldn’t get the vision of this unknown man telling his sad child that he wasn’t getting a birthday cake this year out of his head. It was terribly sad...

Oh great. He was on a mission now.

Boba had to get the cake to this child. He needed a plan. Returning to sender would be useless at this point, so he had to find out the current address of Grogu Djarin’s father.

He grabbed his phone and typed up a quick message to his landlord and leasing agency.

"This is Boba Fett from apartment fifteen. Do you have a forwarding address for the previous tenants? I’ve received a time-sensitive package for them."

After sending the message, Boba ambled around his apartment and tried to find something to take his mind off the Problem sitting on his table. He took some cold noodles out of the fridge for dinner and listened to a voicemail from Fennec that mostly involved her complaining about a recent customer.

Right when he was about to dive into invoices from work, his phone buzzed with a message from his landlord. It contained the former tenant’s email address.

He scratched the back of his head as he considered how to compose the email. He figured keeping it formal was a safer bet. He didn’t want this guy thinking he was some kind of creep. Boba hummed to himself as he typed out a message.

"Hello. I’m the current tenant of your previous apartment and I’ve received a package addressed to you. It says “perishable” on it so I figured it was important. Let me know how you’d like to proceed."

He leaned back in his chair, assuming that it would take a while for Grogu Djarin’s father to respond. But it didn’t. Within five minutes, his phone chirped with a response.

"Thank you! I was wondering what happened when it didn’t arrive today like it was scheduled to. It was my own fault for forgetting to update my address when I ordered online. I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience. Thanks for letting me know what happened."

Boba frowned as he read the response. The man obviously wasn’t expecting anything from him. That was a good thing, but Boba still felt guilty. Perhaps the man was too polite to ask anything of him? He decided to dig a little deeper.

"The package is a birthday cake, right? I recognize the bakery on the label. Do you still need it?"

"Yes, it’s a cake. It’s my son’s birthday tomorrow. All the kids in his class are obsessed with this bakery but we’ve never been, so I decided to order from them as a surprise. I’d offer to come pick it up but my son’s already in bed and I can’t leave him alone. Thanks for letting me know what happened to it. You can get rid of it, or enjoy it yourself if you want."

Boba sucked in a breath and considered his options.

"Are you still in the city? I could bring it to you."

"I couldn’t ask you to do that."

"It’s no trouble."

"Okay, then yes, thank you! I can’t tell you how much that means to me. My address is ---"

Luckily it wasn’t too far from Boba’s apartment. No more than twenty minutes. He could handle that.

He sent back one more message affirming that he was on his way, and then he gathered up the package and his keys. So much for a relaxing night. He had to be up early as usual, but the warmth in his chest almost made up for it. Hell, he felt like some kind of personal Santa Claus. Fennec would say that his actions were “good karma”, but deep down Boba knew he was doing it for the little boy on the label. He knew what it was like to have a disappointing birthday as a child. Boba wouldn’t allow another child to experience that if there was something he could do about it.

Twenty minutes later he was standing in front of an unfamiliar apartment door, double-checking his email to make sure he was at the correct address. He knocked gently, since it was late and the kid inside was likely asleep.

After a brief moment, the door opened to reveal a tall, disheveled man. He was fit and looked only slightly younger than Boba, but his hair was a mess and there was... flour? Yes, flour, spilled across his shirt and sleeves. His brown eyes immediately widened in recognition and gratitude when he realized who was at the door.

“Hey,” Boba said awkwardly, hefting the package in his arms, “I believe this belongs to you.”

“Yes, thank you!” the man exclaimed, opening the door wider and stepping into the threshold, “You really have no idea how much this means to me. My son’s going to be very happy tomorrow.”

“I figured,” Boba replied, handing over the package. He allowed his eyes to run over the man’s features again. He was a mess, but cute. Very cute. And he was clearly a caring father. It made Boba want to be nicer than usual.

“You didn’t have to come all this way. Can I pay you, or give you something to thank you-”

Boba just held up his hand and shook his head.

“It’s no problem, really. I wanted to. As soon as I saw the ‘happy birthday’ message, I thought oh shit, I gotta get this to them. I hope your son enjoys it.”

“I’m sure he will. You really did me a huge favor. We moved a few weeks ago and my head’s still all over the place. Finally got a two-bedroom,” the man said, then quickly shut his mouth when he realized this might be unnecessary information.

“Congratulations,” Boba replied, giving him a wry smile. The man blushed and shifted the package under one arm so he could reach out and shake Boba’s hand.

“I’m Din by the way.”

“Boba. Nice to meet you.”

He knew he could walk away right now, but something about the man in front of him was magnetic. Boba was jaded enough at this point in life to not believe in stupid romantic fantasies like love at first sight, but there was something about this man that seemed special. His eyes captivated Boba’s attention, and he found that he wasn’t ready to end their conversation just yet.

“Were you trying to whip up a last-minute backup cake?” Boba asked, gesturing to the flour he spotted on Din’s collar and neck.

Din gave a humorless chuckle and shook his head.

“Just cupcakes. And it was going terribly. I uh, can’t bake to save my life,” he said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Boba hummed and tilted his head. Should he…? Yeah, he was going to be honest with Din.

“Well, I can.”

Din’s brow furrowed and he gave Boba the most adorable confused look. “Huh?”

“I can bake. Actually, I bake quite a lot.”

“You do?”

“Couldn’t tell just by looking at me?” Boba tossed back sarcastically, but he grinned to show the man he wasn’t truly offended, “Yes, it’s my job. I own a bakery.”

“Oh! That’s amazing! And you… came all this way to deliver a cake from a rival bakery?”

“I’ll be honest, when I first saw the package at my door I was ready to dump it in the trash, but your note changed my mind. They’re overrated, but they’re still pretty good. I’m sure your son and his friends will love the cake.”

“I’m inclined to believe you, seeing as you’re an expert and all.”

“But now you’ll have to allow me to get some free advertising out of this deal,” Boba replied, his grin widening, “If you’re interested in trying some real delicious, authentic stuff, come by my place with your son sometime. It’s over on the West Side. I promise I’ll make something that’ll blow this cake out of the water.”

Din’s eyes sparkled as he nodded, “I think that’s a fair deal. It won’t take much to convince my son, he has a massive sweet tooth.”

“Fantastic. It’ll be worth the trip, just wait and see.”

They smiled at each other like they were in some kind of damn rom-com. Boba knew that he was probably wearing the same goofy-grin as Din but it didn’t bother him. So what if he appeared soft? It was near-midnight on Wednesday, there was no one else in the apartment hallway to see them anyway. Even if there was, Boba couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Well… have a good rest of your night,” he said to Din, taking a step back. He had to leave before he did something really stupid, like lean in for a kiss with this overly attractive stranger. This wasn’t actually a movie- it wasn’t like there was a soft-rock ballad swelling in the background.

“Thank you again, Boba,” Din replied, his voice brimming with sincerity. He gave Boba one last soft smile as the man started to step away, “And I’ll see you soon. I promise.”

“I look forward to it.”

As Boba walked back down the stairs, he couldn’t get the stupid smile off his face. Fennec would laugh at him tomorrow when he recounted the story, but he didn’t care. Sure, real-life wasn’t a movie. But this was as close to it as he’d ever come, and you could be damn sure that he was going to savor it.

[2dmenenthusiast]

Fire's Cool, Revenge is Better

Aizawa x Villain Reader, Dabi x Villain Reader

Listen I know I write for Aizawa a lot but I just love him :( But there's some Dabi in here to add a lil somethin somethin. ALSO I kinda kept this open in case ya'll wanted a part 2? There's no guarantees, but if enough people want it I might consider it

Summary: Meeting Shouta on rooftops was always fun and games until he thinks you're going to set him on fire.

Word count: 2.9K

Warnings/Other Info: Swearing, sexual themes, very small mention of assault, age gap, reader used to be his student but that was years ago and the reader is an adult in this so don't worry lmao, reader is kept gender-neutral, reader's quirk is spontaneous combustion (they can set things on fire just by looking at it)

This fic is intended for adult audiences, so minors DNI

The breeze felt good against your face, eyes gazing at the night sky as you sat on the edge of the roof of some random corporate building you couldn’t remember the name of. You briefly looked down at the street below, watching pedestrians walk along the sidewalk as cars drove by, and you idly swung your feet as you rummaged around in your jacket pocket before pulling out a pack of cigarettes. The sound of traffic at night was always relaxing to you, having lived in the city most of your life. You didn’t know if you’d ever be able to sleep without the distant noise of a car honking. The idea was honestly kind of unsettling, and you thought maybe a part of you liked it because the bustling of the city was comparable to the constant racing of your thoughts.

Letting out a huff, you checked the time on your phone as you placed a cigarette between your lips, looking at the end of it and feeling a slight pressure behind your eyes before it suddenly lit up and you took a drag. He’d be here any minute now, having memorized the schedule for his patrol. You’d been thinking about what you should say to him when you finally saw him but realized there was no point. There was no “preparing” when it came to Shouta Aizawa. You knew whatever you wanted to say would be thrown right out the window when you saw his piercing gaze, so you decided you’d just wing it. Not like that was unusual for you. You’ve been winging it most of your adult life, purely acting on impulse.

You heard a soft rustling behind you, smirking as you knew exactly who it was by how quiet they were. If you hadn’t committed his habits to memory, you probably wouldn’t have heard him. You heard him take a few steps towards you before suddenly stopping, and you let out a soft chuckle as you took another drag from the white stick, blowing the smoke into the air and watching it slowly fade.

“Took you long enough. Almost thought you wouldn’t show,” you said, a playful lilt to your voice as you stood and turned to face the erasure hero.

The city lights illuminated his shocked expression, eyes slightly widened as he took you in before his gaze narrowed.

“Y/n… what are you doing here?” he asked, the low timbre of his voice sending a pleasant feeling up your spine.

You shrugged, that familiar mischievous look in your eyes as you swiveled on the heel of your boot and began to pace. “Oh you know, just thought I’d get some fresh air, get a good look at all the pretty lights.” You paused, eyes hooded and a smirk tugging at your lips as you glanced over at Shouta. “Meet up with a certain hero.”

He audibly sighed, clearly not interested in whatever game you were playing, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread over your face. You didn’t meet up like this often, but when you did, it was always fun getting underneath his skin. It had been almost a year since you saw him last, and you swore he always looked different when you would see him. Maybe it was the circles under his eyes getting darker, or the new scar he acquired between visits, but you knew none of it mattered. This was still Shouta, a man you grew close to during your years at UA. Though, it all seemed like a distant memory now.

“So, how’ve you been, Sho? Still catching bad guys and putting ‘em behind bars and all that?”

“I have half the mind to do the same to you.”

“Oh, we both know you wouldn’t. You like me too much to see me locked up,” you said, taking a few steps closer to him as he stared at you with a pointed look. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to smile when you’re around me. You don’t always have to be so stoic and brooding.”

“What reason do I have to smile when being around you always gives me a headache?” he said, voice void of any emotion as you winced and placed a hand on your chest.

“Ouch, Sho. That actually kinda stung. I thought my presence was quite enjoyable.”

“You need to stop this, y/n.”

You raised an eyebrow, only a foot of distance between you now as you reached forward and lightly tugged at his capture weapon, feeling the fabric between your fingers before he swatted your hand away.

“Stop what? My general villain tomfoolery or annoying you?”

“Both. We both know you’re better than this.”

“Am I?”

You looked at him for a moment before letting out a scoff and taking a step back, shifting your gaze from him as you took one last drag from your cigarette. Throwing it on the ground, you stomped on it with the toe of your boot and turned to move back to the edge of the building, arms crossing over your chest.

“Fuck, hate it when you make me think about all this dumb, sappy shit. Can never let me have my fun, huh?” you huffed, tongue poking the inside of your cheek. “‘You’re better than this,’ fucking christ. If I had a damn dime for every time I heard that I’d be fuckin’ rich.”

You heard him sigh again. “Y/n-”

“Don’t ‘y/n’ me!” you yelled, spinning around as you felt your anger flare up, and your eyes landed on a red-eyed Shouta, his black hair floating in the air.

You both just stood there, gazing at each other until his hair eventually floated back down to his shoulders and his eyes stopped glowing, and you let out a humorless chuckle that eventually turned into a full-blown laugh, clapping as you doubled over.

“Oh, Shouta!” you cheered, arms out at your sides as you backed up towards the edge of the roof. “How glad I am to know that you have so little trust in me. What? Thought that I didn’t have my anger under control?” You took another step, heels peeking over the edge. “Thought I was gonna blow something up?”

“Y/n, don’t,” Shouta said, fists clenched as he stepped towards you.

“Don’t what, Sho? Jump?” You looked over your shoulder down at the street below, knowing that a fall from this height would certainly kill you. “Why not, huh? One less villain for you to deal with, right? One less inconvenience for you.”

“You really think that little of yourself? You think I want this?”

“It’s what everyone else believes. What the media spews out daily without any fucking semblance of the truth. The League… those guys are messed up, but they’re still people. People that society abandoned when they gained some gross fetish for heroes. You’re just their pawn, you know? They don’t give a shit about you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Maybe not,” you shrugged. “Maybe I’m still that naive student in your class, dreaming of being a big-time hero one day just like All Might.”

You moved your foot back, feeling nothing but empty space underneath it as you slowly let yourself fall back, your heart jumping up in your throat and your stomach in your chest. Your other foot was almost off the edge until you felt something wrap around you and you were pulled into a sturdy chest, and you looked up to see Shouta staring intently at you. Something between concern and confusion in his eyes, or maybe a combination of both. The corners of your mouth twitched up into a sad smile, reaching up to lightly trace the scar under the hero’s eye with the tips of your fingers.

“You’re not like them, Sho. You’re so much better. You don’t let the bullshit and lies cloud your judgment. You’re just… you. In all of your cynical and stubborn ways.”

Your hand moved to his stubbled cheek, feeling your eyes begin to well up with tears. He looked so tired, constantly burdened with the responsibility of being a hero and a teacher, dealing with rambunctious kids all day. And there then there was you, that same student that ran away all those years ago, just giving him more trouble than he needed. Maybe it was time to end this little “game” once and for all.

“I suppose I’ve never made things easy for you, have I? Always causing trouble in school… guess that attitude carried into my adult life, huh?”

It almost made you cringe calling yourself an adult in front of him. You half expected him to laugh in your face and remind you that you were just a kid, but he remained silent, gaze softening when he noticed the moisture build up under your eyes, and he removed his capture weapon from around you.

“I… I just wish I could run away sometimes,” you whispered, both hands holding Shouta’s face as a tear rolled down your cheek. “There’s nothing here for me. Though, I don’t think I’d be able to when you’re here.”

Despite how confident you were earlier, you felt like crawling into a hole at that moment. Your confession made you sound like a stupid love-struck teenager, which is the last thing you wanted him to see you as. It didn’t really matter what he was thinking, though. The way he was looking at you already made you feel like he was judging you. You sniffled and pulled away, arms wrapping around yourself as Shouta reached out for you, your name on the tip of his tongue. You shook your head.

“Don’t, just… I know I sound dumb. And I know it was stupid of me to think that…”

You sighed, memories of being in his class flooding your mind. You weren’t always so troubled. You had a few friends you got along with, but other than that you usually remained quiet. That excluded your outbursts, though. Something or someone would set you off, making some off-hand comment about how you didn’t belong in UA, and you would just vibrate with so much rage that something nearby would suddenly burst into flames, and it only made them tease you more.

That was until Shouta took you under his wing. He began teaching you how to control your quirk and use defensive techniques that didn’t involve setting anything on fire. It was the first time in your life that you felt like somebody cared about you. You were on your way to becoming a great hero. That all changed when you saw how corrupt hero society really was. Your mother worked at a pro hero’s agency, working her damndest to put food on the table for your family until there was an incident at her work with her boss, and his pro hero friends covered it all up to protect him. You remember how upset you were, blowing up the tv when you saw his smug face on screen talking to the press. It got so bad you almost destroyed a whole city block. You ran away before the police could find you, packing a bag and promising your mother you’d avenge her before setting off on your own, leaving before you could finish the second half of your third year at UA. Then the League eventually found you and took you in. No, you weren’t interested in destroying heroes like Shigaraki and his crew, but you were determined to expose them. Uncover all of the dirty truths they had all kept hidden away from the media so that they could keep their perfect image and have their fans worship the ground they walk on. It all made you sick, getting so angry and upset that you could practically feel the vomit wanting to crawl up into your throat you would get so nauseous just thinking about it.

Despite your different goals and his hate for pretty much everyone, Dabi and you got along quite well, surprisingly. Maybe it was only because of the similarities of your quirks, but regardless, you were glad to have a companion. While UA taught you how to control your quirk, Dabi helped you unleash it, realize the full potential of your powers, and your face would glow with wonder and exhilaration as you set the world ablaze. You ended up kissing him one night, so full of adrenaline and desperate for some sort of outlet for all of it that you found your lips firmly planted on his, and he was more than okay with it, gripping you tightly against him as he pried your lips open with his eager tongue.

You thought that’d be the end of your little transgression, but you were wrong. On more than one occasion, one of you would end up falling into the other’s bed, and you would be nothing more than a pair of tangled limbs and desperate touches as you both tried to feel something. You didn’t really view each other romantically, simply using each other when you needed a release. But despite that, you thought Dabi was beautiful. He would laugh whenever you told him that, saying you were too fucked out to think properly. But you meant it. Every time. Whenever you’d lay your head on his bare chest and lightly trace the edges of his scars, muttering those simple words into the air, and they would weigh heavy on him. You didn’t know, but he’d think about those words well after you’d retreat to your own room, puffing on a cigarette and trying to banish every and any thought of you. Besides, he knew your heart belonged to someone else.

You looked up at the sky, feeling Shouta’s gaze still on you before meeting his eyes with a smile, but there was no joy behind it. “I suppose you think I’m pretty pathetic, huh?”

“I think you’re troubled, y/n,” Shouta said, taking a step towards you. “I think you need help. Guidance.”

“There is no helping me, Shouta,” you muttered. “I don’t think I can believe in being a hero anymore after what happened.”

“I’m not asking you to. But believe in me. Believe that I want the best for you.”

His words made you pause, swallowing the lump in your throat as you shook your head. “I do believe in you… I just don’t believe in the society you represent.”

Shouta sighed, lips pressed tightly together as he regarded you with an almost unreadable expression, but you knew what that look was. It wasn’t disappointment, but regret.

“It wasn’t your fault, Sho. You were the only one who was ever really there for me, and you were the only person who went looking for me when I ran away. You cared about me. And that’s the only thing I could ever ask for. I know you might think that you failed me, but you helped me. You taught me how to control my abilities,” you paused, letting out a short breath. “but someone taught me how to use them. And until people know the truth… I won’t stop.”

Shouta looked like he wanted to say something when you heard a shout from below, walking towards the edge of the roof and seeing the League waiting for you on the sidewalk. Toga waved excitedly when she saw your face, and you smiled and shook your head before going back over to the older man. You reached forward hesitantly, hand brushing over his chest before bracing yourself against him as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth. When you pulled away, you swore you might’ve just given everything up for him at that moment. He looked so vulnerable, so open like you could reach right into his chest and rip his heart out and he wouldn’t care. But with another distant shout of your name, you were snapped out of your reverie and you moved away from him.

“Don’t come looking for me, Sho, and don’t try to stop me either. I don’t wanna hurt you, but if you get in my way, you’ll leave me no choice,” you said, giving the hero one last look as you turned to walk away, but stopped when you heard him call out your name. You glanced back at him, a brow raised in question.

“You’re making a mistake. This won’t change what happened.”

You hummed, slightly nodding as you smiled bitterly. “You’re right. But maybe I can stop it from happening to other people.”

Sparing him one last look, you took a deep breath and jumped from the roof. The ground rushed to meet you as the wind hit your face, and before you could hit the pavement, a pair of arms caught you and gently placed you on the ground. You looked into those electric blue eyes, letting out a small hum as you lightly punched Dabi’s shoulder.

“Thanks, sailor,” you said with a wink, and you playfully bumped your elbow against Shigaraki as you walked between the two men.

“So, how’d it go with lover boy?” Dabi asked, his hands shoved into his pockets, and a bitter taste filled your mouth as you thought about the mentioned hero.

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again anytime soon.”

If Dabi saw the way your jaw clenched or the flash of anguish in your eyes, he didn’t say anything, just simply threw an arm around your shoulders and let you stumble into his side. You didn’t know when or if you’d ever see Shouta again. But if you did, you wanted him to give you everything he got.

[britishassistant]

@emyluwinter submitted: Hi!!With you again a freelance newspaperman who writes about the reporter Yuu and the Prefect!! I am very glad that you liked my little stories so much that I wrote earlier!!! It's very encouraging that my work is appreciated.

So today will be a small addition to the latest events related to the villainy of Crowley in the form of the kidnapping of Yuu's "family" and friends,and after the final" conversation " of the Prefect with Crowley.

Because of the noise and shouting, opening the room with a spare key, several henchmen cautiously look inside. Yuu had already changed back into civilian clothes and put on extra gloves to hide the knuckles on his hands that had been cut from the blows. - Um....chief, how are you? Yuu takes a deep breath. - Your boss should call a doctor. - So we were talking about you, micro-chief, - one of the minions adds, almost in a whisper. - Huh?Why am I a micro-chef? - Yuu looked at them in confusion. - Well...it's like you've just "talked" to the leader of one of the most powerful villains in the League of Villains.. - Plus your uncle, Mr. Cruel. - Your' family ' and friends are all right. We're not crazy enough to hurt them. - I don't really want to have a walrus's heel sewn on my forehead, - one of the henchmen added ruefully. Yuu couldn't believe it. - Are they really all right? - That's right, micro-chief! But please leave before Mr. Cruel breaks us down into test tubes. We want to live. - And I have a cat at home, how can I be without it. So we'll show you to the exit. Yuu chuckles uncomfortably.It was the first time he had felt so strange. Perhaps it was a mixture of shock, fear, and despair, laced with anger and rage. But for a second, he felt all the power that Crowley held in his hands. But now all this was not necessary, only his loved ones were important.

- Thank you..no, really, I'm grateful that they're safe and sound. - Yuu felt that all these minions were no different from civilians, and they just worked wherever they wanted. And now they are worried about the fact that their superiors have made a lot of mistakes. - Your cameraman friend is a great word player! - I lost three rounds in a row to him. Minions distract Yuu with simple and cute conversations. Some of them showed their pets. Yuu was even asked to sign an autograph as their favorite reporter. They were very moved by their understanding. Although for the most part, they behaved so as not to run into even more trouble. ***

TWST Anita hugged her baby tightly. - Oh Yuu, I was worried if you were okay. - Sorry, Mom - Yuu could barely hold on, they were terribly tired for this day and the last thing they wanted to do was go back to the kidnappings and villainies. TWST Roger patted their hair affectionately. - We were tied up just for show. The rest of the time off-camera, we sat on their couch. - He won four games of cards with the guards,- Anita added, chuckling softly. - Well, they're not stupid enough to harm us.- Roger chuckled. Yuu was just glad that they were all right. Yuuken held Grimm in his arms while standing next to them. - You held out well. - I should have burned all his feathers! - Grimm snorted. - And you cheated, Yuuken! You've made up more than half the words! - No, I didn't cheat, the guards told you the words. Yuu took a deep breath, the growing panic attack quickly passed in his parents ' arms and listening to Yuuken and Grimm. Uncle Divus arrived just a few minutes before the lair to make sure they were all right. None of the minions or minions were even willing to leave shadows in his path. "I sincerely apologize, Anita, that that idiot with the feathers would do something like that. Divus said guiltily, looking at his sister. - Don't take Divvy personally, I know that neither you nor Yuu will let us offend anyone. Everything ended well. - Anita said gently. Cruel relaxed a little at the realization that there was nothing wrong with the people close to him. Looking at the tired Yuu,Kruel just silently hugged him and hugged him very tightly. - You did very well, Yuu. I'm proud of you. - Thank you, Uncle Divvy...I think this time it's over once and for all. -I heard from the guards that Prefect beat him to the intensive care unit, but I don't know how he managed to get in. Yuu chuckled mirthlessly - yes, Prefect helped me out when it was most needed. Ah...I saw him get through the vent or something. Roger swore softly. - Damn it, I wanted to get his autograph! - Roger!Why do you need an autograph? - Little kitty King even has one, I also want an autograph!

Grimm uneasily climbs onto Yuu's shoulders and rubs his head against Yuu's cheek. He watched Yuu more closely than anyone else and saw the state they were in. - Hey .. Yuu. - Yes, Grimm? - Let you take a vacation, your hands are shaking like you're not letting go of a jackhammer. - Grimm glared at Yuu. - I absolutely agree with him, Yuu. Honey, you need a break, you have black eyes and you've lost weight since the last time we met. Being under constant stress is detrimental to your health. - Div, what about that country house you were talking about the other day? - Roger immediately joined in, taking up the idea. - I'm driving, so we can all go together. - Yuuken, you'll go too, no objection,- Anita smiled softly. - Yes, ma'am. I'll just talk to my superiors about letting us go for a couple of days. - Weeks at least,- Сruel added. *** Sitting surrounded by at least 15 pups, Yuu felt like he was falling asleep, they were really too tired for everything that had happened. The quiet snuffling of the pups around him brought him back nostalgically to the time when Yuu was just learning to play the piano with his father and, due to his age and height, couldn't reach the pedals below. How he and Uncle Divus would look at all sorts of fashion magazines, and Yuu would try to draw this or that dress or suit with crayons under his uncle's guidance. Even now, he could hear his mother and father discussing something with Uncle Divvy over a bottle of wine and quiet laughter. Grimm and Juuken fell asleep in a couple of minutes lying on the couch. Grimm climbed onto Yuuken's stomach and used it as a pillow.

Only in the evening, waking up from the doorbell, Yuu sleepily opened his eyes, they slept so soundly and well that they did not even notice how one of the particularly daring and playful puppies tried to gnaw his sleeve. - Who's, Uncle Divvy? - Yuu rubbed his eyes and yawned contentedly. Cruel carried several boxes into the room. - Courier with delivery, although it is strange that no one expected a special package. - What's is Divvy? - It came in the name of Yuu. - Me? - After getting out of the trap of the puppies, Yuu looked at the boxes with a puzzled expression. They were all in his name. And then Yuu noticed several small cards attached to the boxes. In the first box were expensive bagels with filling and frosting. It was a gift from Tsunotaro with an apology that they had to go through all this and Crowley had caused them so much inconvenience.

In the boxes from Tsunotaro there was also a basket of wild roses with a very pleasant and subtle aroma. Several varieties of very delicious tea and a letter was enclosed in an envelope. - "The items are very expensive and refined. Who is this secret fan, sweety? - Anita smiled softly. - From a friend, Mom...a very kind and good friend. - Yuu pulled out the letter and sat down on a chair and began to run his eyes over the beautiful written lines. Malleus certainly tried to put all his feelings and sincere empathy into the lines. The letter was very touching and full of grace, but the one phrase that caught Yuu's attention most was the one from the villain. "If you or your loved ones need help, please contact me first. It doesn't matter what the circumstances are, it doesn't matter who I have to stand up against, whether it's villainous or even heroic, I will always help you no matter what happens, my dear and sweet reporter. Your loyal friend and " pink ink was added "and the most important terrible villain" - this must have been Vanruge. ... your loyal friend and loyal fan. Enjoy your vacation, we'll probably take a break for a while, too. " At the bottom was another postscript in pink ink : "One of the minions had the temerity to fall asleep in a den with the windows open. And now in our shelter a flock of birds, rabbits, squirrels and other small creatures that need to be attached" Yuu choked on a laugh as he imagined the mighty Tsunotaro surrounded by all these cute little animals. Finally, this long day gave Yuu something good, at least they will spend a few days with their family and close friends. Finally, the long-awaited rest and a short vacation came. By the way, the bagels with stuffing that were sent were damn delicious. - To bribe me on an empty stomach, up villainy is not otherwise-Yuu grinned, finishing another bagel. Thank you for your attention!

AAAAAAAH, I LOVE THIS!!

The perfect little ending to ease the sad of the last submission!! Yuu getting away with beating up Crowley! Crowley’s henchpeople treating Yuu with more respect and kindness than birb dad does!! Yuu’s dad wanting the Prefect’s autograph!! Forcing Yuu onto a vacation because their family loves them and wants them to feel safe and happy!! Yuuken and Grim going home with them and falling asleep in the puppy pile together!! Malleus’ care package and Lilia’s additions to his note!! I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS!!

Thank you so much for sending this in!!

[angel-tries-to-write]

Bloody favor

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan Rating: Explicit Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Hanji Zoë Word count: 3204 Genre: smut, fluff

When Hanji suffers from menstrual pain, there's only one person who can help them.

Sometimes Hanji joked, that if only they could do more experiments on Eren without hurting him, they would be able to get to know titans so well, they could predict the times they attack. Levi would always roll his eyes and say that it would be very convenient, yet very impossible as well, since the titans weren't much known for thinking, with the obvious exception for shifters. Unfortunately for him, the crazy scientist wasn't the type to give up on their theories, until proven wrong, besides that would be a wonderful ability, to predict the attack and being able to properly prepare for it. Hanji felt it on a personal level, knowing there is a certain pattern to their behavior would made all their lives and fight less stressful, and stress was the last thing they needed.

Their body was acting weird recently, it felt uncomfortable, heavy and tired all the time, their personality has changed as well, they always were impulsive and short tempered, but the past few days have proven that their patience was very short, to the point that when Nanaba joked that maybe they are pregnant, she barely dodged a particularly heavy book Hanji threw at her. Not that it was impossible, those hot nights with Levi might or might not had something to do with that, even if none of them would ever admit something was between them. But Hanji knew better, Nana's stupid joke didn't make them paranoid, but they actually connected the dots: it wasn't pregnancy, but upcoming period.

And obviously, obviously, this thing always comes unwanted. It seems to have this annoying ability of picking the worst timing ever, especially when you were busy. Hanji knew that very well, they lived for long enough to experience menstrual bleeding in various moments and places they neither expected it nor wanted. Super important and absorbing experiment? Check. Boring but mandatory meeting? Check. Long expedition that was supposed to gain valuable information? Check. First secret date with Levi? Of course. If Hanji only wanted and cared enough, they could make a very impressive list of all the places and moments they started bleeding out of nowhere. And they hated it with passion.

It seemed like, at this point, the only inconvenient situation when this condition hadn't started, was a battle with titans. Obviously, with Hanji's luck in this field, it was nearly undoubted that it was only a matter of time. Yet as usual, they weren't thinking about such things, when the titans attacked, they took their gear and rushed to the Wall with no hesitation. Even though they felt tired, overwhelmed, and they really didn't want to move, Hanji knew it was their duty as a soldier. So they fought, they fought with passion and rage no one ever expected from them. For the first time they didn't care about the experiments, information, any scientific knowledge, all they wanted was to defeat the titans and go to sleep.

At some point, when they slaughtered their way through another titan's neck, its steaming blood splattered onto their face, blinding them temporarily. Hanji swore under their breath, pushed the goggles up to see anything at least and headed to the wall for a quick break. Of course, titan blood evaporates eventually, but they didn't have time to wait until this happens, so they had to clean the goggles manually.

“Squad leader! Are you okay?” Moblit screamed, running in their direction, as Hanji took the goggles off their head, to properly wipe them.

“As okay as I can be in the middle of the battle, thank you” they answered, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You're bleeding, four eyes” this time Levi spoke, though his voice was perfectly calm in comparison to Moblit's.

“I don't have time to bleed. Tell me where, so I can ignore it” Hanji did their best to look at him angrily, but they couldn't even see his face, so it was a challenge.

“Your pants” he pointed out. Hanji looked down to see a pretty large crimson pool, staining their white pants. Perfect. They should have expected that. It would also explain the constant pain in their abdomen they were experiencing.

“Oh for fuck's sake, not now” they groaned. Hanji wasn't swearing often, only when they were really tired or angry. “Fuck it, I'll take care of this later.”

“Maybe you should—”

“Don't you fucking dare to tell me what I should, unless you have more experience with periods than I have, shorty!” they snapped at Levi, very efficiently making him shut up. He knew that angry Hanji was the scariest person in the world. Apparently Moblit didn't, so he opened his mouth, but Levi elbowed him in the ribs.

“Don't even try, you'll only make them angrier” he said quietly. Meanwhile Hanji finished cleaning their goggles and they could see again, so they rushed back to fight. But as they landed on a rooftop of one of the smaller buildings, they could hear another person landing behind. They knew these footsteps too well to not figure out who followed them.

“I swear, one comment and you're dead” they growled, certainly not in the mood for bickering and jokes.

“Are you in pain?” he asked, approaching his partner. Hanji could see concern in his usually cold eyes. At first they wanted to yell at him, but they knew it wasn't going to help anyone.

“Yes” they sighed, leaning against the wall of the nearby, taller building, massaging their stomach in hope of easing the cramps.

“What I was going to suggest was that maybe you should go back and take some rest. I know it's your duty to fight” he quickly added, before they could interrupt him. “But just like injured soldiers, you only cause risk for yourself and the others by not being in your best shape.”

“I'm not injured. It's nothing, I can fight” they protested. Levi stepped forward and pinned them against the wall.

“Your pain is blinding you. Don't you see? All you've been doing is flying around and slashing titans like a maniac. That's not you, Hanji” he said and they could easily tell he was scared.

“Then what do you think I'm supposed to do? Rest comfortably while my squad and friends are fighting, bleeding and dying? Guess what, I can fight and bleed and not die” they stated angrily.

“Alright, then I'm going to have to use the more drastic methods” he leaned in and kissed them. But Hanji was not having it, they pushed him away as fast as they could.

“Are you out of your mind?! Someone might see us!” they scolded him furiously.

“Let them see, I don't care. You need relief from pain. Then I'm at your service” he smirked suggestively and put his hand on their thigh. “My body is yours, all you have to do is to use it the way you desire” he offered, pointing at himself.

“Fuck you” they spat angrily, but their blush was an obvious evidence they loved this idea, just maybe not in this place and timing.

“Excellent answer, now come and do it yourself.”

“Later” they sighed defeated, knowing fully well they couldn't resist him for long. “Once we're finished here, we can discuss your generous offer” they gave him a quick kiss and used their ODM gear to get to the other side of the area. Luckily the battle was soon to be won, after that, when they took care of the wounded and dead, Hanji could finally rest. The insides of their thighs were stained with various shades of brown and red from dried and fresh blood, and their body hurt, so all they dreamed about was a bath, a massage and, oh yes, almost naked Levi waiting for them with an already prepared bath.

“Ah, finally, you decided to show up. I thought I'd have to go and drag your dirty ass here.”

“I don't deserve you” Hanji said quietly, their eyes filled with tears.

“Less talking, more undressing. There's a bucket with cold water we have to put your bloody clothes in” he approached them and started to help them get out of ODM straps, then clothes. “Why didn't you change? I imagine it must have been very uncomfortable to wear this for that long. What did I tell you about self care?” he asked while working on taking out all the straps.

“I know, I was going to, but there was so much to do and so many people to take care of, that I didn't have time to even think about myself” Hanji explained, unable to look him in the eyes, they felt like they failed him.

“You really have to learn to care about yourself, shitty glasses” Levi said, his tone was difficult to read, even though Hanji knew him so well.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize to me. You did harm only to yourself” he said softly, kissing their neck. It tasted like sweat and dirt, which meant Hanji really needed that bath. He helped them undress completely, trying to be gentle. “Are you still in pain?”

“Yes. But I also want you so bad right now” they admitted, shamelessly staring at his chest. They were so close that they didn't even need glasses.

“Are you sure?” he asked, getting rid of his own remaining clothes. “I don't want to cause you more pain.”

“Really? That's what you care about?” Hanji raised their brow in confusion.

“What else should I?” he took a cloth, dipped it in water, kneeled for better view and started to clean all the blood on Hanji's thighs.

“Don't you think it's disgusting? And dirty?” they asked hesitantly. “Like... even more than a regular sex?”

“There's nothing that can't be cleaned later. Just like I do it now” he wiped dried blood off their skin, proving his point.

“Are you sure? I mean, cleaning is one thing, but sex?”

“Hanji... Don't make me say sappy shit” Levi sighed.

“Say it. I know you hate it, but maybe that's what I need right now” they leaned against the bathtub, to let him get a better access to their legs and crotch.

“Alright. But if you laugh, there will be consequences” he warned them. “I've heard once, that a true warrior is not afraid of a little blood on his sword, and I pretty much agree with this sentence. I don't like it, but I can handle it” he said with his eyes focused on Hanji's leg, too embarrassed to look up and meet their eyes.

“That's... disgustingly sweet.”

“Also ridiculous and pathetic.”

“Yeah. Don't do it again.”

“Don't worry, I'm not going to. But what I mean is that if you need me, I don't care about anything but your comfort” Levi stated, putting the cloth in the bucket with cold water, with Hanji's pants and underwear. He sat back on his heels and looked up, waiting for their move.

“You look really hot right now. I love to see you on your knees” they smirked, biting their bottom lip.

“Oh, I can imagine. I like to see you in this position too” he replied, there was a spark in his eyes.

“I feel almost bad I won't be able to properly use this position” Hanji lowered themself onto his lap, straddling him, then wrapped their arms around his neck. “Almost” they whispered and kissed him. Levi returned the kiss with passion, one hand entangled in their messy hair, the other caressing their buttcheek. Hanji's hand slid down his chest and perfect abs, but hesitated and only barely brushed his hardening penis. “Are you sure you want it?” they asked, looking him in the eyes.

“Yes. Now touch me, Hanji” he growled and captured their lips in another hungry kiss. The timing was perfect, just when he did it, he could feel his partner's hand on his dick, which made him moan in their mouth. He squeezed their butt in response, but that made Hanji break the kiss.

“Just be gentle, alright? My body is quite sensitive and not in the nice way. Especially my boobs, try to avoid touching them, it hurts” they asked and Levi nodded in response.

“Anything you want” he promised quietly and leaned his head on their shoulder, closing his eyes and focusing on pleasure they were giving him.

“Ass gripping is fine, besides you do it so well” Hanji purred, palming him for a while and waiting for their lover to tell them he's ready. Which he did, after a moment.

“I think that's enough. Do you want me to warm you up too?”

“Umm... no, you don't have to...”

“Hanji.”

“I...” they sighed, seeing his stare. “Yes, I do” they admitted.

“It's the first time I see you this shy and embarrassed. Even our first time wasn't this awkward” Levi noticed, his thumb found their clit almost immediately. Hanji gasped when he touched that little bundle of nerves. Period cramps made it difficult for them to actually feel the pleasure in its fullest, but their lover's magical hands were doing their job very well, making Hanji feel at least a little better.

“I wasn't bleeding during our first time. Neither I felt like shit” they explained, having difficulties with gathering their thoughts when Levi was touching them like that.

“Does it really matter that much to you? It's just some blood, no big deal” he peppered their jawline with kisses.

“We'll talk about it the next time it gets on your clothes” Hanji chuckled, but Levi pressed his hand harder, making them moan.

“Clothes are a different story. I don't happen to have any now, though” he noticed, tracing their skin with his fingers. “Besides, I don't mind getting dirty from time to time. As long as I'm with you” he confessed softly.

Hanji looked at him with these beautiful, big, brown eyes and pulled him in a passionate, breathtaking kiss, then pushed his hand away and connected their bodies by sliding themself on his cock. Both of them moaned into each other's mouth at the sensation. Levi pulled his lover closer, grabbing their thighs and ass firmly, to help them move with ease, once they were ready.

This act was quite different than their usual lovemaking, but also very familiar. Levi ignored his pleasure, focusing completely on giving all the control to Hanji. It was rare, usually the one who wanted domination had to fight for it, because both of them enjoyed being in control. Even when they felt like just leaning back and leaving most of the action to their partner, none of them liked to make it that easy. But this time he knew it was a necessity. Hanji needed relief and distraction from pain, not further discomfort, so he just had to let them do whatever they needed. It felt good for him too, so he didn't actually mind. And he obviously tried to help whenever they struggled with pace or angle. It was a quite weird, slightly uncomfortable and pretty awkward comfort sex, but no less sweet and loving than their usual intercourses. Slow pace might have felt less intense than rough and fast act, but it always allowed them to feel their bodies in a different way, to learn each other and to discover new sides of pleasure. They moved in slow, steady pace, even a little sloppy, their orgasms building up like glowing embers instead of burning flame and finally flooding them calmly like a lazy sea wave, instead of usual explosion. But they enjoyed it, that soft pleasure, so different, but still satisfying.

“You were right. I needed it” Hanji panted, hiding their face in a crook of Levi's neck.

“Do you feel better?” he asked, embracing his partner.

“Yeah. I don't feel pain for now” they answered with a small smile.

“Good. We can take a bath and go to sleep” he decided, kissing his lover's shoulder and caressing their butt and thighs. “Come on, you deserve to rest after that battle.”

“You too, captain” Hanji lazily slid off him. “That looks scary” they said, staring at his cock and lap, which were covered with their menstrual blood. Levi didn't say a word, he simply reached for the cloth he previously cleaned Hanji with and wiped himself, then his lover.

“There” he gave them a quick kiss. “Now get your pretty ass into the bathtub, or I'll throw you there myself.”

“You think I have a pretty ass?” Hanji echoed, surprised by his words.

“Of course I do, you have a lovely ass” he stood up with a little difficulty, his legs were getting numb because of this position.

“Your ass is lovely too” they smiled, standing up as well. It felt really tempting to annoy Levi further, but Hanji decided they're too tired for this and stepped into the bathtub as he told them.

After a quick bath, they both headed to Hanji's room. They tried to hide their relationship, but it was common among the veterans to seek comfort in someone else, it didn't necessarily mean they were dating. It became clear after one time, when all of them woke up in a giant pile in Erwin's room, after a particularly rough expedition. It was the day when the commander allowed to bend the rules for their all mental health. It turned out to be extremely helpful. Just when Levi and Hanji were sneaking through the hallway, they heard a scream. It was Nanaba. But before the couple could react, they heard Miche's voice and screaming stopped. She had a nightmare again and he had to calm her down, sometimes in a quite drastic way, like yelling at her first, because nothing else but shock would work, only then he could hug her, when she was aware what is real and what is not. Hanji and Levi exchanged pitying glances, on top of everything they all had been through, Nana had a terrible childhood. Levi knew exactly how she felt, he wasn't surprised she couldn't sleep well, though sharing a bed with someone else was really helpful. Usually she would come to Hanji or Moblit, but recently she started to sleep only with Miche and surprisingly, her nightmares became even less frequent and less intense. Just like Levi's insomnia eased a lot since he started to share bed with Hanji. No one questioned why or how it was working, it just was and everyone simply accepted it.

Finally they reached the room and crawled into the bed. Or at least they tried. Hanji just groaned as they collapsed ungracefully onto the mattress, too exhausted to even cover themself with a blanket. Levi had to do it for them, as he placed himself behind their back, to massage their stomach.

“You're the best, Levi” they whispered. “I don't know what would I do without you.”

“Go to sleep, Hanji” he kissed their neck and nestled himself comfortably. He didn't have to tell them twice, they dozed off a moment later. Levi looked at them for a while, before closing his own eyes. He hated to see them in pain, but he was slightly happier, knowing he could help them even a little.