#sometimes being sick all the time makes you wanna ... not :)

[thirtysomethingloser92]

If you don't take requests that's so fine please ignore me but if you do can I request a plus size reader/ Gambit. I'm just feeling a little insecure today and i feel like he would be a thick person enjoyer. Thank you, you're my inspiration

My Darling I'm so sorry you're feeling like that today. I hope this cheers you up.

You stared at your reflection, frowning as you tugged at the hem of your shirt for the hundredth time. No matter how much you adjusted it, it still didn’t sit the way you wanted. The fabric clung to your stomach, revealing every curve and bump you didn’t want to see. Your jeans, which had once been your favorite pair, now felt too tight, pinching at your waist and making you feel like you were bursting out of them.

With a frustrated sigh, you yanked the shirt off entirely and tossed it onto the pile of rejected clothes on your bed. The mirror reflected your bare skin now, and you couldn’t help but notice the way your stomach rounded, the way your thighs touched, the fullness of your hips. All of it felt too much. Too much body, too much space, too much of everything.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, as if you could shrink away from your own reflection. It was one of those days where nothing felt right. The clothes that usually made you feel confident and comfortable now felt like costumes, ill-fitting and awkward. The little voice in the back of your mind, the one that whispered cruel things about your body, was louder than ever today.

"Why did I even agree to go out?" you thought, staring at the mess of clothes around you. Remy had asked you out earlier that day, suggesting a casual dinner in the city—just the two of you. He had looked so excited, flashing you that irresistible grin of his, and you had agreed without hesitation. But now, standing here in front of the mirror, you felt like it had been a mistake. You didn’t feel like yourself. You didn’t feel worthy.

Another sigh escaped your lips as you sat down heavily on the bed, burying your face in your hands. You loved being with Remy—he was charming, kind, and always made you laugh. But sometimes, it was hard to quiet the voice that told you he could do better. That he deserved someone who looked like the women he’d been with before—slender, toned, effortlessly beautiful.

A soft knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts.

"Chère, y' ready?" Remy’s voice was warm, but there was a hint of curiosity in it. "We gon' be late if y' don’t hurry."

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t want him to see you like this—not when you felt so exposed, so vulnerable. A part of you considered pretending to be sick, making up some excuse not to go. But you knew that wouldn’t fool him. Remy was too perceptive for that.

"I… I don’t think I’m going to go," you called out, your voice shaky despite your best efforts to sound casual. You hoped he’d drop it, that he’d understand without asking too many questions, "Maybe we can just do something here?"

There was a long pause, and for a moment you thought he might have walked away. But then the door creaked open, and Remy stepped inside. He shut the door behind him quietly, his eyes immediately scanning the room before settling on you. His brow furrowed slightly in concern.

"Now, what y' talkin' 'bout, chère?" he asked, his voice soft but firm. "Why y' don’t wanna go?"

You avoided his gaze, staring at the floor instead. "I’m just… not feeling up to it, that’s all."

Remy wasn’t a man easily fooled, and you could tell by the way he crossed the room to stand in front of you that he wasn’t buying your excuse. His eyes flickered to the pile of clothes on the bed, and then to the way you sat hunched over, arms crossed protectively over your body.

"Somethin's botherin' ya," he said quietly, crouching down so that he was on eye level with you. His red-on-black eyes, always so intense yet gentle, searched your face. "Talk t' me."

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over. You didn’t want to admit it. You didn’t want him to know how insecure you were feeling, how much you hated what you saw in the mirror today. But the weight of it all was too much to carry alone.

It had been building for a while, this gnawing pit of self-doubt that seemed to grow larger whenever you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t remember exactly when it started—maybe it had been creeping in for years, little comments here and there, comparisons to other women who seemed to glide through life effortlessly, their bodies molded to perfection. Or maybe it was something deeper, an old voice that had always lingered in the back of your mind, whispering that you weren’t enough.

And today, that voice was louder than ever.

Your chest felt tight, your throat constricting as you tried to hold it together. The last thing you wanted was for Remy to see this side of you—the side that felt small, fragile, and vulnerable. He was always so confident, so sure of himself, and you didn’t want to burden him with your insecurities. You didn’t want to be the one who cracked under the pressure of something as trivial as your reflection in the mirror.

But gods, it didn’t feel trivial. Not today.

Every time you looked at yourself, all you could see were the things you wished you could change. The way your clothes hugged your body a little too tightly, the way your stomach wasn’t flat, the way your thighs touched. It was as if every part of you was magnified, exaggerated, and you couldn’t escape it. You had tried—tried to brush it off, tried to focus on the things that you liked about yourself. But those thoughts were drowned out by the louder ones, the ones that told you that you weren’t enough. That no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you would never quite measure up.

And the worst part? Standing in front of Remy, with his eyes on you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he must see it too. He had to. How could he not? He was gorgeous—dangerously handsome—with that smirk that could weaken knees, and a body that looked like it was sculpted by the gods themselves. He had been with women who were stunning, women who looked like they belonged on magazine covers, and here you were, feeling like you didn’t even belong in the same room.

The thought made your chest ache, the tears stinging behind your eyes. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. You didn’t want to break down and tell him how ugly you felt, how unworthy you felt. The shame of it was too heavy, too raw. But it was getting harder to hold it in, harder to pretend that everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

For a moment, there was silence between you. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes fixed on the floor as if it could somehow swallow you up and save you from having to confront the truth. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you, though—steady, patient, waiting. Remy wasn’t the type to push if you weren’t ready to talk, but you knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t let this go. Not when he could see how much it was hurting you.

And that was the thing—Remy always saw you. He saw you in ways that you sometimes wished he didn’t. He saw past the walls you tried to put up, past the bravado you sometimes used to hide your insecurities. He was always watching, always noticing the little things, the things you thought you were hiding so well. And that scared you, because it meant you couldn’t pretend with him. Not for long.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy in the air, and you felt the dam starting to crack. You didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want to admit how deeply the insecurities had burrowed into your heart, how much they weighed you down. But the burden of carrying it alone was suffocating, and Remy was standing there, waiting, offering you a lifeline without even saying a word.

"I…" Your voice broke, and you hated how small it sounded, how fragile. You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, but the tears were dangerously close now, and you knew there was no holding them back. "I don’t feel good, Remy. With me."

It was such a simple sentence, but it felt like you had just ripped open your chest and laid bare everything you had been trying to hide. You could feel the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes now, and you quickly turned your face away, not wanting him to see. You hated how emotional you were getting over this, hated that you couldn’t just shake it off like you thought you should.

But you couldn’t. Not today.

You felt Remys hands on your thighs, his thumbs drawing small circles on the skin, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a protective shield. He didn’t say anything at first, and for a moment, you wondered if he even understood. Maybe he didn’t get it. Maybe he couldn’t. How could someone like him—so effortlessly confident, so sure of himself—understand what it felt like to look in the mirror and hate what you saw?

But then you felt his hand, warm and gentle, on your arm. His touch was so soft, so cautious, as if he knew exactly how fragile you were in that moment. He didn’t try to pull you into a hug or force you to look at him. He just crouched there, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, grounding you with his presence.

"Chère," he said softly, his voice like a soothing balm. "I’m right here."

And that was all it took. The dam broke, and the tears spilled over, silent but heavy as they slid down your cheeks. You felt your shoulders shake with the effort of holding it all in, but it was too much. The weight of your insecurities, the fear of not being enough, the shame of feeling this way—it all came crashing down at once.

Remy didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just stayed close, his hand never leaving your arm, his presence a steady, unwavering comfort. He didn’t try to fix it or offer empty reassurances. He just let you be, let you feel what you needed to feel, and somehow, that made all the difference.

After a few moments, when the tears had slowed but the ache still lingered in your chest, you finally found your voice again, though it was shaky and weak.

"I just… I look in the mirror, and I don’t like what I see," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I don’t… I don’t feel like I’m enough."

Saying it out loud felt like admitting a terrible secret, something you had been holding onto for too long. But the moment the words left your lips, a strange sense of relief washed over you. It was out now. The truth was out, and you couldn’t take it back.

You half-expected Remy to brush it off, to tell you that you were being ridiculous, that you were beautiful and didn’t need to feel this way. But instead, he was quiet for a moment, his hand still resting gently on your arm. Then, he stepped in front of you, his gaze soft and unwavering as he looked into your tear-filled eyes.

His brow furrowed even more, and he reached out to gently take your hands in his, uncrossing your arms. His touch was warm and reassuring. "What y' mean by dat, chère?"

You hesitated, biting your lip. The words felt heavy in your mouth, but you forced them out anyway. "I don’t look like the other women you’ve been with. I’m… bigger. And today, I just… I don’t feel good about it. I don’t feel good about me."

There. You said it. The ugly truth that had been gnawing at you all day. You braced yourself for his reaction, for him to say something dismissive or to tell you that you were overthinking it. But instead, Remy’s grip on your hands tightened slightly, and he pulled you gently to your feet.

"Come here, chère," he murmured, his voice soft as he wrapped his arms around you. He held you close, his chin resting on top of your head as he stroked your back soothingly. "I been waitin' t' say this for a while, but y’ve never given me the chance."

You blinked, surprised by the tenderness in his tone. "What do you mean?"

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down into your eyes. His expression was serious, more serious than you were used to seeing on his face. "I don’t care 'bout that. I don’t care 'bout what other people think. Y' beautiful, cherie, jus' the way y' are. And I need y' to believe that."

You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him that he didn’t understand, that it wasn’t that simple. But he silenced you by placing a finger against your lips, his eyes soft but unwavering.

"I know y' don’t always see it, but I do," he continued, his voice low and sincere. "Y' think I’m wit' y' because I want someone who looks like everybody else? Non, chère. I’m wit' y' because y' one of a kind. Ain’t nobody else like y', and that’s what I love 'bout y'."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from sadness. They were from the overwhelming warmth of his words, from the realization that he truly, deeply meant what he was saying. You had always known Remy was kind and compassionate, but hearing him say these things to you, looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, made your heart ache in the best way.

"But I don’t always feel beautiful," you admitted, your voice shaky. "I don’t always feel like I’m enough."

Remy’s expression softened even more, and he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that had fallen. "Then let me remind y', every day if I have to. I’ll tell y' a thousand times if that’s what it takes. Because y' are enough. Always have been, always will be."

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, soothing the raw edges of your insecurities. It wasn’t as simple as snapping your fingers and feeling better, but with Remy’s arms around you, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

"You’re too good to me," you whispered, resting your forehead against his chest.

"No, chère," he murmured against your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I’m jus' tellin' y' the truth."

For a moment, you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside your room fading away. Remy’s presence was so grounding, so steady, that you felt the storm inside you begin to calm. The insecurities were still there, lingering in the background, but they didn’t feel as loud anymore. Not with him here, reminding you that you were more than enough.

After a while, Remy pulled back just enough to look down at you again, his signature roguish grin returning to his face. "Now, how 'bout we go out, eh? I promise y' gon' have a good time. An' if not, we can come right back home, no questions asked."

You managed a small smile, the warmth of his words still lingering in your chest. "Okay," you said quietly. "Let’s go."

Remy’s grin widened, victorious but gentle. "That’s my girl." He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before stepping back and grabbing his coat from the chair. "An' for the record, chère, y' look damn good."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at your lips. "You’re unbelievable."

"Maybe," he winked, shrugging on his coat with a flourish.

As you followed him out the door, hand in hand, you couldn’t shake the warmth that spread through your chest. The insecurities were still there, lingering at the edges of your mind, but they didn’t feel as overwhelming anymore. Not with Remy by your side, reminding you that you didn’t have to be anyone else. You were enough, just as you were—and that was more than enough for him.

[restinslices]

Hello, I saw the publication, idea of MK1 characters with a combat medical reader, and I was wondering if you could do it. With the Lin Kuei brothers and if possible Harumi 😔☝🏻

Sorry for the bad English, it's not my mother tongue

L.N

Hey pookie. Ngl, I was having trouble making all of them different so imma pick one brother to do and if you want the rest, you can request again. Maybe spacing them out will let my brain marinate and actually work lol. Also I don't know anything about Harumi. I won't even lie to you-. Also your English is legit perfect.

I imagine that he'd meet combat medic reader at a young age

You're apart of the Lin Kuei, so he meets you when he's "adopted"

You still fight and all that jazz but you're also being trained in healing

He was adopted after his family was killed so um, yeah, he's a bit shook up and nervous

He doesn't know how he feels. He just stays in his room. He absolutely hates how everyone stares at him. He feels like he's being watched all the time

You're good friends with Bi-Han and Kuai Liang, so you're used to spending time with them at their place

I can see the first interaction being something simple. Like, his new dad (who is the Grandmaster of the clan that murdered his family) (I just CANNOT get over this shit) asks you to get him for dinner

You peek your head in his room to tell him dinner is ready. That's it. That's all.

He doesn't know who you are and honestly he has no intentions on finding out

But then over time he starts actually training, and that comes with injuries. He gets a real fucked up shoulder and is sent to your area

He's quiet the whole time for multiple reasons; he doesn't know you fr, he's still not sure about this clan, and he's watching you work your healer magic

You try to make smalltalk but he's kinda in and out of this world. Keeps zoning out. You can understand why though. Everyone knows what happened to his family

That's how your relationship is for awhile. He comes to get healed, then he leaves without really talking

Things change though when you're sent to get him for dinner again and you walk in on him crying

You're not an asshole, so you close the door behind you and sit by him

Neither of you talk. After some time you leave then come back with two plates of food

"I lied and said you were sick. Also asked if I could give you company" "Why'd you do that?" "I didn't want you to be alone in here" "Oh... thank you. Seriously" "It's all good man. You uh, wanna talk about something?

That's when the friendship truly starts. That act of kindness really sticks with him and now he truly thinks you're a good person to be around

He comes to you when he gets seriously fucked up in training or on actual missions. Sometimes he just chills out in your area and you two chat while you work on healing someone

I could see him take an interest in anatomy and shit after seeing what you do

I just see y'all vibing in your little healing hut a lot

I do think going on missions would be funny though-

"I gotta pop your shoulder back in place!" "You can't magically heal it?!" "Not this time!" "Hurry up then!" *pop* "DAMN!

"Do you get injured on purpose more when I'm here?" "I'm doing my best here"

As for when you start dating, honestly I don't see you dynamic changing much

A relationship with Tomas is like being friends but y'all hold hands occasionally

Oh and obviously you join the new clan (I am not googling how to spell that rn)

Gotta give y'all a happy ending sometimes

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'

[bunnihearted]

꒰୨୧꒱

[patron-saint-of-emesis]

todays concepts to grapple with are “accept Done over Perfect” and also “change is an inevitable constant”, both are very good sentiments that will better my life when i accept them, but it also means not restarting my crochet project and to stop staring at my face so hard in the mirror, and ima be real both of those r suck

[hikeyzz]

i'm too tired to get around to kms tonight maybe tomorrow

[skrunksthatwunk]

haruka should be allowed to be mad at kiryu tbh

[synonymroll648]

IF LORE UPDATES APPLIED TO PEOPLE I WOULDVE JUST GOTTEN ONE OF MY HAPPIEST LORE UPDATES TODAY

[s0urte3th]

dont resd 🙏

[lovelyghst]

ex-boyfriend simon riley making you admit you still love him if you wanna cum <3

he can be such a jerk sometimes! calling you up one evening, claiming he was just wanting to check in on you and how you know how overbearing protective he can be sometimes, acting surprised when you snapped at him barely after his greeting.

“what has you so frustrated, hm, dove?… christ, can practically feel you seethin’ through the screen.”

you bit your tongue and gave him the truth over the phone; how he shouldn’t be calling you without warning like this considering you’ve broken up, and it’s inappropriate to be labeling you those sweet pet names you unfortunately and unknowingly still adore deep down.

how you don’t appreciate his abrasive bluntness, then again, he should know very well that you never have liked that part about him.

you told him the truth, though you couldn’t be entirely honest with him, in the sense of how fucking needy you’ve become with his absence. for touch and care, proximity and security, and all that.

but you are over him, undoubtedly, and you let him know that.

“yeah, baby, whatever you say…

…bet you rub that little cunt raw every night thinkin’ve me.”

and that shut you up quick.

he hummed in understanding, like your silence was readable.

“poor girl prob’ly hasn’t had any proper attention since i’ve been gone… shame such a pretty thing has to be so neglected, eh?”

butterflies invaded your tummy at the compliment, and you cursed yourself for your hasty, blind acceptance of it. but you can't blame yourself; what girl wouldn’t at least begin to crumble at that voice?

“i’m right, yeah?” he taunted, and it almost made you sick when you caught yourself rubbing your thighs together at his meanness.

“c’mon, sweetheart… you know you can be honest wi’ me.”

and god, was his cocky tone so infuriating; you wanted to reach through the phone and slap his smug face straight for overstepping your relationship’s boundaries so blatantly, and with such a deeply rooted nonchalance in his voice that always had you heated and wet.

“say the word, ‘nd i’ll come over and fuck you right now.”

…which is why you had eventually asked him oh, so nicely:

“please..?”

you could practically hear the shit-eating grin on his face, followed by the faint noises of boots hitting hardwood floor and then the clicking of a door’s lock, the obnoxious ringing of keys clanging together.

“just give me ten minutes, doll.”

and now, as he bullies and buries his cock deep in your warm cunt, reaching all those sweet spots you or another man could never even come close to, you can’t really think much of his misbehavior.

truthfully, you can’t think much of anything at all, at the moment.

he had teased you prior to finally managing his way inside you, for god knows how long. his mouth, his fingers, his cockhead; all had brought you to the edge rather quickly, over and over after each other, but he was yet to give you that final push.

he puts his full body’s weight on you, strong pecs pressed up against your heaving, sensitive tits, and his stubble tickling your neck unceasingly. you can’t stop squirming and writhing beneath him, and his hot groans right up against your skin aren’t helping, either.

it’s always been a feat taking his cock, being crammed in your precious cunt almost every night when you two were together, but now it’s been weeks, and you nearly forgot just how big he was.

you missed it, admittedly. all of it; the veins and ridges, the unforgiving stretch. the slight twinge of pain he always hushed with his fingertips pressing your swollen, little clit, or a calloused thumb shoved between your puffy lips to suck on and drool over to distract yourself.

you missed his stamina, his libido. most striking of all, his selflessness in the entire act. he’s a soldier, he serves you right. most times.

“fuckin’ christ, sweetheart… missed this tight, messy thing wrapped ‘round my cock… practically stranglin’ me ‘n with no remorse, eh?”

shit, and you missed his dirty talk most of all.

“gonna fill this pretty, little pussy… keep ‘er happy all night, make up for lost time with my girl.” he wraps his hand gently around your jaw, making your eyes meet his. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

you nod frantically, swallow as best you can, before sucking in a breath. “yeah— yes, please, si… i-i want it really bad… please.”

he kisses your lips with a smile, and then all over the side of your face, up to your forehead. he just can’t seem to stop kissing you.

“tell me, sweetheart. y’wanna cum, too?”

“i do, si—! i really, really do- fuck, please?” you beg and beg, and as much as it turns him on, digs at his heart to just give in, he sticks to his guns and merely adds:

“then say the words, pretty girl,” he coos, making you whimper in frustration. “that’s it, y’know what i wanna hear.”

you huff a whine in response, albeit your breath is strangled when he doesn’t halt his movements for even a second.

you really, really don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

he’s nearly panting himself, big chest and even bigger shoulders rolling upwards with every thrust. “y’ain’t cummin’ til i hear you say it, baby. c’mon, now. jus' admit it, that you still love me.”

he buries his cock to the very hilt, taking your slackened jaw tighter in his hand as he watches your eyes grow even hazier from his pelvis rubbing up against your vulnerable, needy clit. the stern look he gives you tells you he's serious about his last statement, but you'll later swear you sensed a bit of sadness, even despair in his expression.

“i love—” you choke on your own breath, desperate to sputter out the words. “i love you, si…”

and he practically has hearts in his eyes. “you mean it?”

“yes—! yes i do, i promise i still love you, please,” you spill, sounding closer to a temper tantrum than anything. “just lemme cum, please, si… really need it, please, i-i’ve been good...”

he hums lowly, contented, satisfied for once. as if those three words themselves — i love you — are the ones actually stroking his fucking cock. his ego maybe, you’d think, but jesus.

if you knew just how badly off he was beforehand, you never would’ve let him get this cocky and in control.

“love you too, sweetheart.” he kisses your puffed out lips, wipes a tear you hadn’t even noticed was trickling down your cheekbone. “always been my good, patient girl, haven’t ya?”

you nod once more, pinched brows and bleary eyes doubling in severity at his soft tone. simon praising you and being so, so uncharacteristically sweet has always made you fawn after more, even now. especially now.

“tha’s right, baby, you’re my good girl… now do me a favor and cum on my cock for me, yeah? lemme feel every last bit of ya.”

he ultimately resumes moving inside you, and it makes you wonder when he ever even stopped. your brain shuts off when he snakes a hand between your bodies, smoothing over your tummy before his middle and ring fingers quickly find your tortured, little bud. pressing hard, making you writhe with oversensitivity.

he works you over the edge diligently, and embarrassingly fast on your part, taking into account just how long he had edged you for. the sight and sweet noises you make are a dream; a reality he awfully missed, and something no other girl could compete with.

"that's it... easy, sweetheart," he coos softly.

he gives you a moment to come down from your high, softly palming your throbbing cunt to assist in grounding you, but you're barely able to finish catching your breath before he's doing it all over again! resuming flicking at your clit, rubbing you harshly and overstimming you enough to make you fruitlessly jolt and cry out beneath him.

he frowns down at you, damn-near condescending. "again, for me?"

you twitch and moan relentlessly as he gradually coaxes another orgasm from your tuckered body, his cockhead hitting that part deep enough inside you to make you see stars, his hard abdomen pressed against your tummy making the pressure of it all skyrocket tenfold.

the sensation of you finishing around his length once more has him barreling into his own orgasm, and soon fucking his pent up cum deep into your cunt with a few hard thrusts and a grumbled, broken groan right at your temple.

endless praises spill from his lips as everything becomes a blur for you; from the moment he's pulling out of your used cunt—crawling down and giving it and your pretty tits a couple sloppy kisses before briskly redressing himself—to being coddled in bed and squished between his muscular arms and torso.

he holds you so close to him that it makes you wonder why, or even how you could ever turn your back to it. he truly makes you feel like a spoiled doll in this sort of space. a doll with shaky legs, ruined makeup, and half a conscious.

"remind me why we broke up again?" he chimes.

you groan aloud, burying your face somehow further in his chest. "shut up, simon."

he laughs softly, pestering you with even more quick kisses, one after another to the crown of your skull. large hands rubbing up and down your back, moving to knead at your ass and thighs for a short moment. he just loves touching you so much.

“c’mon, pretty girl. let’s go get you cleaned up,” he mutters with an exhale. "how's a hot bath sound?"

you have no time to interject, other than a displeased pout and shake of your head, before you’re being hoisted up on your wobbly legs, then swept up and carried to your restroom when you couldn’t even make it three steps before your knees began to buckle on you.

you’re dizzy, utterly dazed and half asleep as he bathes you. making sure you don’t lift a finger as he works, treating you as nothing less than a princess. your loosened muscles somehow melt even more with his precise touch and strength, and you remember just how much you love being turned utterly numb and dependent on him.

you’re pretty sure you fell asleep the moment you were wrapped in a warm towel, pulled into the strong embrace of his meaty arms, but something he said moments beforehand had stuck with you.

“hey,” he whispered, soapy hand turning you to face him. he leaned in and kissed the area between your brows. “i’ll be better this time.”

“you promise?” you mumbled. your head fell atop your knees, arms wrapped around your legs and keeping them close to your body.

your extended pinky finger made him chuckle a bit, and he quickly looped his own around yours. solidifying his words. “promise.”

[togament]

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬. sakura, ume, kaji, suo, kiryu, togame.

"ever caught yourself fantasizing how they'd be as your lover? ever wanted to smooch them so badly you just wanna-- look no further, sweetie."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: general FLUFF NATION BABIIIEEEE, a bit of language but only if you squint a little, I made it as gender neutral as possible but pls lmk if I made some mistakes!, our men are lovesick and absolutely down bad BAD, quick mention of bumping uglies, kaji the crowdkiller, brainworm infestation things, bibi went to yap town with togame's.

𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐚.

- big on acts of service BUT IS HORRIBLE AT HIDING HOW MUCH HE LIKES DOING STUFF FOR YOU. hear me out. he’d be the one opening doors for you, covering your head with his jacket when it’s raining outside (he’s getting soaked and you nag him about getting sick)…. all that. He’s blushing profusely. When you smile up at him, he immediately smiles back but then he claps a hand over his mouth to hide it. Give him time ok he’ll come around.

- he loves you. of course that’s a given because you’re his lover BUT BUT. he love LOVES you. like a lot. so much that it’s kind of painful, you know what I mean? Like he wants to express it so friggin bad, but he doesn’t know how to. His words escape him, he panics when he makes a move. He’s spent many a night just staring down at you with the most lovestruck eyes while you’re fast asleep. Tears falling from his eyes because he’s so happy you chose HIM of all people. He never thought he’d be worthy of being loved, of being trusted, of being CONSIDERED. You gave all of that to him and more. GOD he loves you.

- is super conflicted about PDA lol sometimes he wants to hold your hand in public, kiss you all over, hug you, but god damn it he’s blushing from head to toe whenever he’s around you. He’s got the cuteness aggression fever but he can’t let it ouuuttttt 🗣️🗣️🗣️

𝐮𝐦𝐞.

- EVERYTHING IS HIS LOVE LANGUAGE. Like, if you’re not into physical touch, he’d do something else for you. If you’re not the acts of service type and you wanna do stuff yourself, that’s cool too!!! He can manage!!!! Although he’d want to help you out so bad but…. He’s cheering on you from the sidelines. On that note, he’s your biggest (and loudest) cheerleader! You’d have an achievement and no matter how small or big it is, his friends and neighbors and the random strangers he passes by know about it and how amazing you are. BECAUSE YOU ARE.

- loves it when you help him out in the garden hehehe loves it extra if you know how to take care of the veggies and fruits hehehehe like, you’d be tending to the potted plants and he’s checking for aphids on the other side of the garden. You’re actively pruning the basil the right way so it’d grow bushier, you’re hand pollinating the pumpkins, you even suggested on doing the three sisters method so you’d yield more harvest in the coming months. He may or may not have begged you to marry him once or fifty times every time he’s caught you doing that. (Ofc you’ve said yes once or fifty times lol)

- WORST CUTENESS AGGRESSION FEVER SUFFERER. You cannot convince me otherwise. You’d be doing the most mundane things, walking down the road with him, lounging on the couch with your belly out and body contorted in the most unattractive position, just STANDING THERE….. he’s immediately on you, peppering kisses everywhere his lips can reach, hugging you so close, rubbing his face all over youdbjfjdndnnd CUTENESS AGGRESSION IS UMEMIYA AND UMEMIYA IS CUTENESS AGGRESSION. If he could he’d bite you. He has btw. On multiple occasions. The tiniest, softest chomp though.

- never fails to tell you how much he loves you. On the daily, on the fly, every time he meets your eyes. “I love you” so easily slips from his lips, he expresses it so easily but it never loses its meaning with him. He means it every time he utters those three words. You can feel it too. Just… don’t ask him to elaborate because he’d drop anything he’s doing just to explain to you as to how and why and what and where and—uh oh is he crying?????

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁���𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓.

𝐤𝐚𝐣𝐢.

- WOULD MAKE PLAYLISTS FOR YOU. Hear me out again. He’s horrible with words ok? Like he’s thorny. He’d say the meanest things accidentally sometimes without him realizing that. So, he makes playlists for you. He’s made one for himself when he first realized he had a crush on you, btw. Don’t tell him I told you. Notice how he’s had his headphones on his head whenever you first started talking to him? Yeah he was listening to it when he saw you passing by. Best music taste btw. Listens to all genres too like he doesn’t discriminate. Get him started on some hardcore bands though, he’s yapping. Eyebrows furrowed. (He likes rowdy places but doesn’t get rowdy? Canonically too? Yeah the man’s outside the pit pushing the crowdkillers away from you. CATCH HIM IN THE PIT THOUGH OH MY GOD THAT’S A CROWDKILLER RIGHT THERE.) on that note, he loves going to gigs with you. You wanna go check a local band? He’s immediately got ticket stubs for their next gig.

- another acts of service guy. You see those tiktoks of girls grabbing something under the table and the guy holding the corner of the table so she wouldn’t accidentally hit it? Or like when you got full hands and you can’t go to open the door, the guy’s materialized beside you, opening it for you? Yeah that’s him. Real subtle about it though. Don’t bring attention to it pls unless you want him to not look at you for a couple of minutes (he’s blushing pls be patient)

- the type to nag at you when you get hurt. Man oh MAN does he nag. He’s gone through one too many fights already so he knows how to patch himself up real nice. But when YOU get hurt, he’s immediately digging through his first aid kit, cleaning your wound and patching you up while nagging you to be more careful next time, what if he wasn’t around to help, what if this what if that grumble grumble. He’s got his lollipop in his mouth btw. Pull it out for a second and GIVE HIM THE BIGGEST SMOOCH TO SHUT HIM UP PLEASE. Sweetest kisses. Both literally and figuratively 🥹

𝐬𝐮𝐨.

- GENTLEMAN GENTLEMAN GENTLEMAN. Oh my god if you don’t want attention drawn to the both of you, never bring Suo out in public!!!!!!!! He does the most for you so effortlessly, so beautifully, people swoon and get jealous because of it. The type to give you flowers too. Not just on special occasions too. And not just flowers in a bouquet. No. The flowers are already arranged in a vase so you wouldn’t have to worry about grabbing a vase yourself. Goodness your normal dates would seem so extravagant when he’s around. You’d be eating at a McDonald’s and you’re looking over at your lover and he looks so dashing and he smells so good and he’s got the softest smile anfjdjjdj UGHHHHHH!!!!!! But if you’re not into flowers, he’d find some other way to express his love for you in a different way. Whatever you’re comfortable with, he’s down for.

- big tease. He likes seeing you squirm and pout when he’s playing a little prank on you. You swear you can see a slight blush on his cheeks when you pout but it’s so so subtle you think it’s the lighting.

- is not afraid to express how much he absolutely LOVES you. If you need reassurance, he’s pulling you to the side to talk about it. If you need him to kiss you more, oh he’s doing THAT AND MORE. If you’re the jealous type, even better. He’s smooching you in front of the person you think is flirting with him. But if you’re not into that intense stuff, he’s pulling you into the conversation, keeping a hand on your waist and looking over to you for an extra opinion. Lays on the “dove”, “my love”, “my sweet”, “my heart”, T H I C K . And I fucking mean THICK.

𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐮.

- *dreamy sigh* a fucking dreamboat is what he is. You could never, EVER go wrong with kiryu, man. I swear. A gentleman through and through. Takes you on spontaneous dates, likes going to arcades with you and winning you the biggest plushie!!!! (he’s really good at it), would take you on perfume dates (HE SMELLS GOOD CANONICALLY UGH), would even do your make up for you. Ugh. UGH. He’d be the best partner you could ever ask for. Y’know those perfect couples on tiktok? That’s you and him. But it’s all genuine, baby. That’s just how he loves.

- big on matching outfits. But not the blatant matching ones, no. Like, same color palettes, same textures, YES. YES. The outfit brainstorming is part of your dates too. He’d let you borrow his clothes if you want, he’d even let you spritz some of his most expensive perfumes 😭!!!!

- SKINCARE DATES TOO. WOAH WOAH WOAH. like, he has a AM/PM routine but he'd love to do it with you! he'd suggest all the best stuff for your skin, check if your skin's more on the dry side, oily side, yes. your man knows his shit and it SHOWS. your skin's practically glowing when you're with him. boyfriend air doesn't exist.

- IF YOU NEED REASSURANCE AND A HYPEMAN HE IS YOUR FUCKING GUY I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH. God he’d see you looking at yourself in the mirror, fussing over how you look and practically putting yourself down, his heart would break. Like, how could you not see how he sees you? He’s taking you in his arms and telling you everything he absolutely adores about you, how beautiful you are, showering you with praise on the sweetest most kiryu way possible. He’s peppering kisses along your tear streaked cheeks until you’re smiling again. “There’s that smile,” he says as he pulls away, cupping your face in his hands. Ugh he even has the most lovesick puppydog eyes for you. “I love you, alright? So much,” he kisses your forehead, “So, So much.” He whispers into your hairline. GOOOOODDDDDDD 🫂 and did I say HYPEMAN? I mean it. Do a little spin for him in your new clothes and he’s screaming and yelling and taking so much pictures of you!!!!! His instagram feed’s full of you, your couple photos, your dates… practically a fan account of your relationship. He loves you and he loves loving you!!!!!!!!! and if you're the jealous type, he'd be so patient with you. he'd reassure you to the moon and back!!! ofc since he's popular with girls, he'd do his best to reassure you that he only has his eyes on you and you alone.

- gaming nights with kiryu. Oh Gaming Nights With Kiryu please save me gaming nights with kiryu. He’s got a whole set up ready for the both of you, his PS5 hot and ready, snacks opened. It’s a special thing for the both of you too! He decorates his apartment in the theme of the game you’re both playing, horror game? His apartment looks like a horror house. Smash bros? BET. (He’ll be smashing you by the end of the night gehrhhrhehehehHgdhdhs). I know he’s got LED strips so he’s using that to his advantage too. Ok I’m getting carried away. Kiryu best partner best lover best everything.

𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞.

- *RIPS SHIRT OPEN LIKE A WEREWOLF GRGEGGRHEHE BARKING!!!!!* TOGAMEEEEE!!!!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️ I am apologizing for this part, love. I’m gonna go hard.

- canonically doesn’t text. Only leaves you on read. Calling him though? CALLING HIM?? 🫠 he’s answering as soon as it rings. None of that “wait until the third ring” baloney. His baby’s calling. If he’s doing something before you called, HE’S DROPPING IT FOR YOU. And he answers in that deep voice of his and 🫠🫠🫠 sigh. You guys stay on the phone for hours. He’s the type to do things while he’s calling you too. If you’re away and he can’t be with you, he’d love it if you could stay on the phone with him for way longer too. Big on facetiming too. He’s fallen asleep with facetime on. You have a collection of screenshots of his pretty sleeping face. You’ve fallen asleep on facetime too. He doesn’t have as much screenshots though and he haaaates himself for it because he spends so much time just staring at you through his phone, smiling to himself like. FUCK he’s so in love with you!!!!! YOU!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️ plus he’s got nervous shaky hands so hehe first time you guys facetimed you weren’t a couple yet. You fell asleep and he tried taking a screenshot and dropped his phone. The sound woke you up lol you give him shit about that moment sometimes, teasing him. He’s a blushing mess, elbowing you gently so you’d stop.

- AWKWARD TOGAME WHEN YOU GUYS FIRST DATED UGH SHIIIITTTTT!!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️ he’s canonically bad with groups of people and people in general. Choji had to adopt him forcefully into shishitoren ok? So that translates so SO well to you and your relationship with him. He may or may not have (allegedly, for legal reasons) asked for romance advice from Choji. He may or may not have (again, allegedly) tried that yawning and stretching trick so he could rest his arm behind you. No. Nope. Didn’t hear it from me.

- awkward and SHY togame when he made the first move on you!!!!!!! He had a ramune bottle in his hand because it was shaking so bad he couldn’t control it. You GAVE HIM HIS FIRST KISS DHHRHDHRRRRAAAAGHHH 🗣️🗣️🐺 you had to hold his other hand to stop it from trembling. Yours were too tbh hehe made him feel a bit better because you were just as nervous as he is.

- once you both are super into the relationship though, my goodness expect togame to be THE BEST PARTNER. See how he was with Choji? Did anything and everything to keep his smile? He’d do that for you too. Amp it up to a 100. His surprises are simple, never was one for grand gestures. But goodness you can feel the effort. Even employed some help from his old man pals at the community baths 🫠

- speaking of the old men, THEY WERE THE FIRST PEOPLE TO KNOW ABOUT HIS CRUSH ON YOU!!!!! Like, they were doting on togame when he expressed he’s never felt this way for someone before, how he can feel his heart racing and his face heating up when you’re around. They knew he was in love with you before he knew for himself.

- OF COURSE THEY KNEW YOUUU. So when you wanted to get into a relationship with togame, knowing it’s serious now, you went out of your way to meet up with the group of old men!!!! There, you discovered that togame has been talking about you nonstop. They already loved you for him before you formally met!!!!! They gave you their collective blessing, of course. You both are their grandchildren in their eyes.

- togame CAN COOK. EXPECT HIM TO COOK FOR YOU CONSTANTLY. And if you can cook, EVEN BETTER. Cooking dates, farmer’s market dates, izakaya dates, GASTRONOMY! You often surprise each other with decorated lunch boxes.

- nap dates all the time. Like, when you’re not bumping uglies or cooking or bonding with your friends, you both are asleep in each other’s arms. He gives the best hugs too. Like, those hugs that just cover you, you know?

- obviously, he loves you. But god damn it he wants to scream it into the world!!!! With the way he treats you though, constantly worrying about you, being there at your beck and call, pressing kisses into the crown of your head whenever you’re next to each other, he doesn’t need to scream it or utter a single word. You can just see the love he has for you. Everyone knows it.

- has thought about marrying you a couple times already. The type to call you his spouse teasingly too just to see you blush. He cannot wait to call you that officially. If he were good at technology, he would definitely have a pinterest board ready lol

a/n: wehehehehajsdkj hehehe togame. i missed writing for him, guys. THANK YOU FOR READING THROUGH TO THE END. some of the togame headcanons were from my convo with @yisxn!!! the ramune bottle detail was so perfect I couldn't skip it! also the asking for advice from the old men. YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL MIND ILYSM. thank you to @brainrot-of-a-thot for helping me clear up my brainfog last nightttt. also to you, reader, ILY. thank you for reading my word vomit!!!!!!!!!

[bunnyrafe]

omg speaking of bar crawling w rafe…him being ur dd while u get drunk and on the drive home and you just can’t keep ur hands off of him cause he looks soooo good and ur just so drunk and horny u can’t help it…getting fingered on his lap when u get back YUM 😛😛

absolutely drooling for this— i know it was supposed to be bar crawling with rafe but omg... him being your DD on your nights out in general… it’s unfortunately everything i ever wanted ‘n more. but 🙄🙄🙄 rafe is so annoying because his patience for drunk you is thin asf. let us have fun, bitch.

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. f / bratty!reader, dom / mean!rafe, daddy kink, impact play (spanking), dumbification & degradation.

rafe has the AC on full blast.

it’s a hot summer night and the way the underside of your thighs are sticking to his leather seats are proof that. it’s ninety degrees and counting even with the sun down but you’re having the time of your life in his passenger seat. wiggling your hips and shouting along to your favorite songs as they blast through his speakers much to his dismay. there’s pineapple juice and tequila on your breath, hidden away by your glittery lips… from the gloss you reapplied in the club bathroom before he picked you up.

girls night was a success despite him texting you every ten minutes. you’d be lying if you said each message didn’t have you grinning at your phone, if you said you didn’t send him selfies every chance you had to take one.

“he know i only wanna come over put it on him— i got that woah-na-na-na. he drink that shit like water. i got that supernova, that super grip, that choker,” you lean over the console as you sing along, and rafe rolls his eyes so hard you think his head may hurt. but his thigh tenses up when you splay your hand over it, rubbing the denim of his jeans and the muscle underneath it.

“you’re done.” he bites out before turning down the music completely, clearly fed up with your antics.

you huff at that, yet your hand travels higher. he looks too good when you’re stressing him out— as sick as it sounds. you wanna push and paw at his buttons until he just can’t take it anymore, and that’s exactly what you do as you nearly palm at his hardening cock while you pout, “ugh… sometimes you’re so mean, rafey.”

“yeah?” he takes his eyes off the road for a split second to look at you and meet your glossy eyes, “you think because ‘m not playing your fuckin’ games for once i’m mean? is that it? you’ll see just how fuckin’ mean i can be, then.”

and he keeps his word. you’re bent over his lap within minutes when you get home, with your little party dress yanked up and slutty panties pulled to the side while you giggle and kick your legs. you earn yourself a few spanks. spanks so hard that your brain shuts down a bit upon the impact and you’re only able to yelp.

“naughty girl,” rafe spits out in feigned disgust once he feels how slick your folds are. your poor cunt has been drooling for him before you even got in the truck, and now that his fingers are slowly circling your clit it’s beyond messy.

“daddy, please…” you whine out, smushing your face in to the sofa cushion in shame.

to your surprise rafe does slip two of his fingers into you, stretching you out and making your lungs burn with how fast you inhale at the intrusion. his fingertips find that one spot hidden in your silky walls so quick, curling slowly and forcing your tongues to curl with them in sync, and your cunt to cream around the digits as a warning for your impending orgasm. all sensitive due to the liquor in you.

you mewl into the material beneath you and a puddle of your saliva darkens it. rafes free hand slaps your plump ass again.

“if you think you’re cumming any time soon, you’re fuckin’ dumber than i thought.”

[moonstruckme]

I love your roomate!james. I was wondering if you could do one where shy!reader is sick and she doesn’t tell james bc she’s used to taking care of herself but he’s adamant about taking care of her. 🥺🖤

Thank you lovely!

cw: implied nausea and vomiting

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.6k words

James worries he’s scared you off. 

He thought you’d been having a good time the other night, hanging out with his friends and then teasing each other while he battled you for cleanup duties after. He’d certainly had a good time. Watching you smile more readily as you got comfortable, feeling your soft form tucked up against his on the couch, it had made his whole body feel light and fizzy, but now James wonders if the easy, familiar energy of the night had made him too bold. There had been a moment, just before you’d gone to bed, where you’d seemed to stumble, defaulting back to the awkward, self-conscious way of speaking you’d had before you got to know each other. 

James might not have thought anything of it—you still get shy sometimes, he can never figure out what causes it—except you’ve been very obviously avoiding him ever since. That next day, you went to work and then disappeared into your room straight after you got home. He told himself he was being paranoid. But yesterday, you seemingly had the day off, and every time you needed to emerge from your room James heard you dash down the stairs and back up as if your bedroom was the only safe zone in the apartment. 

He hears you doing it again now, the soft click of your door unlatching before quiet footsteps start down the stairs. If Sirius were here, they’d probably make a game out of timing you, but James estimates it’s less than a minute before you start back up again. He wishes he could tell you not to hurry yourself; he has no intent of cornering you in your own home, even if he does want to patch things up. 

Then something falls on the stairs with a loud thud, followed by a sharp gasp just outside James’ room, and all thoughts of giving you your space are quickly abandoned. It was a valiant effort. 

“Shit,” he says as soon as he opens the door. He crouches beside you, taking your elbow in his hand, cushioning it from the cruel edge of the step, “Did you hurt yourself?” 

You must have had a mean fall. You’re completely crumpled on the stairs, one of your legs curled under you and one outstretched behind you as though it’s slipped back. Both of your elbows are braced underneath your body, keeping your face from smacking into the corner of the stair. James is willing to bet that big sound he’d heard was your knee hitting the step below you as you tripped. 

“Fuck,” you whine, pulling an entire loaf of bread from beneath your other elbow. The middle has been completely crushed, smashed between your forearm and the edge of a step. You look genuinely distraught about it. 

“Did you hurt your knee?” James frets, fighting the urge to haul you up off the stairs so he can look you over properly. He does take your other elbow in hand, using a firm grip to encourage rather than haul. You get more or less upright. 

“I’m okay.” You sound a bit odd, though he supposes you could be winded by the fall. “Thanks, sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for?” James can’t help it if a bit of teasing makes its way into his voice. This is something the two of you always do, you overapologizing and him making fun of you for it. “It seems like if anyone ought to be apologizing, it should be the stairs.” 

Your mouth tips up slightly. “Solid point,” you concede. 

The load in James’ chest lightens at your willingness to fall back into a casual repartee. He rubs the point of your elbow distractedly. “Wanna tell me why you’re taking an entire loaf of bread to your room?” he asks, grinning. “Do you have a secret stash of sandwich-making supplies in there?”

He feels goosebumps erupt on the side of your arm, and he does his best to soothe those, too. It must be too cold in here for you. “No,” you say quietly.

“Mm. I thought we were past this, angel. Come downstairs, I’ve still got leftover pasta in the fridge.”  

He starts to lead you down, but before he’s made it two steps you say, “No, thank you.” 

“Oh, come off it.” James shoots you another easy grin, hoping to loosen you up. “Don’t be a martyr. I’m all for carbs, but bread by itself will hardly sustain you.” 

“I don’t have much choice.” You shrug, and your shoulders stay up higher than they had been. You seem embarrassed. He waits, intrigued. “It’s sort of the only thing I can keep down at the moment.” 

It takes a blink for James to understand. “Are you not feeling well?” 

“Not very.” Your voice is softer than soft, swallowed up by the nerves James thought he’d earned an exemption from but nonetheless can’t hold against you in this state. 

He can see it, now. The way you’re holding yourself, like you could curl up on the floor at any given moment. Your complexion is flushed and your eyes slightly unfocused, glazed. 

He presses the back of his hand to your forehead. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” It comes out more caring than he’d ever meant for it to, but James is too worried about you to dwell much upon that. You bat his hand away weakly, but he just moves them both to your cheeks, feeling himself frown. “You’re burning up, love. Why didn’t you say?” 

“Not much to say.” You move away from his touch, backing towards your room. James pursues you, hand hovering near your elbow because you really do look like you could pass out. "It's a stomach bug. It'll pass."

“I could have been helping you if I knew. I just thought you were avoiding me,” he admits. You look so sorry he’s quick to smooth things over with a smile. “Do you need me to get you anything from the store?”

“I already went.” You slump onto your bed before seeming to realize he’s still behind you, your brows coming down. “I’ve got everything I need, but thanks.” 

“You went to the store like this?” James is aghast. “You should be resting! How high is your fever?” 

“Dunno.” You seem to give up uncharacteristically quickly on getting him to leave, sighing and sinking back against a propped-up pillow. “I don’t have a thermometer.” 

“You don’t?” He’s more frazzled by the second, every way in which you’re not being properly taken care of piling onto the last. It seems a miracle you’re still alive. 

You look suspicious. “Do you?” 

Shit. He grins sheepishly. “No...” 

But that doesn’t change the fact that you should, for some reason. People like James are allowed to coast through the world unprepared because responsible ones like you always have the things they need. 

He feels your face again. This time, you let him. Your breath fans warm over his wrist, those fever-glazed eyes drooping slightly. 

“Your hand is cold,” you say through a sigh. 

“I think you’re just hot,” James mutters, but that doesn’t stop him from stroking his thumb over your cheek, just once. Your lashes flutter closed, and his heart does an impressive flip in his chest. 

“Have you had paracetamol?” he asks you. 

You hum. James sweeps his thumb over your cheek again, hoping to rouse you, but it only seems to worsen your drowsiness. Your head actually lolls into his touch. 

“Is that a yes?” 

“Mhm, yeah,” you say without opening your eyes. “You need to stop doing that, m’gonna fall asleep.” 

“You should be sleeping,” he says softly. It’s impossible to keep the fondness from his voice. “I’m gonna get you a cold flannel, okay?” 

Your eyelids crack open. “I don’t need you to take care of me,” you say, voice nearly slurring with sleepiness. “I’ve always done fine, by myself.” 

“You never neglect to remind me.” James slips his hand from beneath your face, going to the bathroom between your bedrooms. “I don’t mind helping, though. You don’t always have to do everything on your own, what are roommates for?” 

You make a quiet, breathy sound he suspects might be a laugh. “None of my other roommates were ever as nice to me as you are. I think you’re taking things beyond the requirements of the job.” 

James thinks so, too. But still. Regardless of the complicated feelings he’s starting to have for you, you’ve always deserved to be treated with care. 

“You mean to tell me,” he says, wringing out the flannel and going back to your room, “that if you were this poorly, none of your previous roommates would have offered to help?” 

Your eyes are open more fully now. You watch him as he lays the flannel on your forehead, smoothing away a couple of baby hairs before they can get trapped underneath, with an odd expression on your face. 

“I handle my own problems,” you say softly. 

James’ thumb is still stroking the baby hairs at your temple. He can’t get it to stop. 

“Maybe your problems could be my problems, too,” he says. The lightness of his tone is automatic, but it serves as no representation of the great and weighty feeling in his chest. He realizes his breathing has synced to yours. Quiet inhales and exhales in your quiet apartment. 

Your eyes slip closed again. “Why?” you murmur. 

James doesn’t have an answer for that. Not one he’s ready to think about. The lines of your face smooth out as you relax. More evidence of frowns than smiles, but he likes to think he’s made progress on the little creases fanning out from the corners of your eyes since he’s moved in. He feels a pang of triumph any time they make an appearance, little rays of sunshine on a wholly lovely face. 

Because he’s your roommate. Because whether you’re ready to admit it or not, he’s your friend. Because he cares about you. 

In the end, James doesn’t have to come up with an answer. You’re already asleep. 

[leqonsluv3r]

Can I pls request one where Leon is obsessed with his wife’s small baby bump? Like especially when she wears dresses he just can’t stop staring 🧎‍♀️🌸

baby blues

—re4!leon kennedy!husband x pregnant wife!reader

— a oneshot (request)

warnings: MDNI, 18+, a lot of fluff, leon being the best baby daddy out there, reader kind of hates being pregnant at times, reader deals with some body issues and how their body is changing, leon is so sweet and supportive, gives cocky hot dad vibes, mentions of pregnancy pain, oral (f receiving), breast play, lots of kissing and praise, mentions of past sex, mentions of doctors offices, cursing, leon and reader being the cutest little husband and wife out there.

“you had tried. tried stretching, tried taking a pill and had tried sleeping. but everything hurt. everything. your feet, your head, your back and especially your breasts. it felt like something was tugging and poking at all the soft parts of your body. it was torture, almost. if there wasn’t a handsome man next to you, rubbing your back as you laid on your side. leon dulled the ache a little, he looked at you still like the day he met you four years ago, even when you were pregnant, fat and you felt like death had taken over certain parts of your body. leon still looked at you like you were the most precious thing. and it made you wanna cry, scream and kiss him all at the same time.”

— or reader gets pregnant and tries to come to terms with it and leon has no problem helping her out

masterlist taglist

an: thank you for the request anon <33 hope you enjoy it. this was such a cute little thing to write. might make a headcanon list soon just for this specific request :,)

you and leon had talked about kids, about babies.

about the joy it would bring both of you to have something made by the two of you. to make you both enjoy the ties of your marriage and love.

you, however didn’t expect to get pregnant so soon after your marriage. but leon…leon was hard to resist and your body craved him and it was your choice. a choice that you made over and over and over again.

until two lines changed his life and yours entirely, it was hard ignore how the both of you panicked. the excitement, nerves and the rushing of your heart beating accelerated as you stared at the test…four month ago.

you both had been so careful, so very careful, but in one night of heated touches and sloppy kisses, you decided to fuck the condom and just deal. thinking the birth control you took would be enough, but it…it was not. definitely not.

you dealt with being pregnant like a champ, or tried to. you were sore now, you were fatter and you felt like a truck had hit you when you simply moved to grab something.

you loved the idea of carrying a child in retrospect, when leon had pounded you into the mattress many times before, thinking and muttering all the obscene words and images about breeding you. you literally keened at the idea, but now, now that you were here and doing it, you wanted to rip this kid out of you.

you hurt every moment of everyday, you were tired and hungry and whenever you saw that stupid ASPCA commercial on the tv with the dogs, you started bawling like a child. it was obnoxious and to think it would only get more strenuous as the moments that passed was literal torture.

and the doctors appointments, the vitamins you had to take and the way your body changed. it was a lot to handle, you had leon. you had him to help but sometimes it didn’t feel like it was enough. you couldn’t dress like you usually did anymore and could only wear the sundresses and other dresses you had hanging in your closet.

it felt like you were playing dress up, but it was the only thing you were comfortable in these days. the only thing that fit over the bump. the only thing that made you feel pretty and not like an inflated blimp.

and the one thing besides the pain, the bloating and the never ending amount of morning sickness you’ve had to deal with…the one thing you held onto was by the end of it you would get to be a mom. leon would get to be a dad, that was the only thing that kept you tethered to reality these days.

but leon enjoyed the sight of you in your dresses, that was one thing that also kept you tethered. the way he still ate you alive with his eyes, scouring you still as if you haven’t changed at all. you would always find his blue eyes piercing into your pregnant frame whenever you’d slip on a dress for the day or when you were bare and just got out of the shower.

it made you more aroused then usual, the only thing worse was the leon never acted on it. he never once stopped you and brought you to your guys bedroom. he never offered to eat you out anymore. you didn’t know why he was staring but wouldn’t act. was he worried that he’d hurt you? or the baby? you didn’t know, you had no clue.

but it was festering, each look he gave you in your pretty little dresses with your bump of pregnancy was making your skin hotter everyday. you didn’t know how much longer of this pregnancy you could take if he didn’t act on his desires. most importantly, your own.

two weeks, later and your sick of everything.

your sick of walking, your back pain, the peeing every five minutes. just everything makes you annoyed or feel like your going to crawl out of your own skin. you don’t get comfort in bed, you toss and turn. you’re then frustrated because you can’t sleep on your stomach, you wanna rip this baby out of you and it’s only the four month mark.

leon is a saint though. he’s bringing you food, rubbing your feet, holding your hair back when you throw up from the morning sickness. you feel bad for being such a bitch, for being so mean and hormonal. you try not to snap or throw a hissy fit.

but it’s hard.

you’re also sick of the doctor asking you twenty million questions when you go to your next appointment. already fed up from lack of sleep and your bowel movements. the baby is healthy, so everyone is happy. just not you.

another thing, leon keeps eyeing you and basically fucking you with his eyes. another thing that’s just adding up into your short limit of patience. you wanna scream at him to just fuck you, do something. you need a release. and if you could do it on your own, you would. but you can’t even see over your stomach or much less reach it.

so your just stuck feeling pent up and frustrated with everything. until one day, one day you just snap. you just lose your shit. you don’t remember what really caused it to happen, maybe it was the fact that you saw leon wearing only a towel after his shower, practically making you drool.

but you lost it. you just lost it, for absolutely no reason at all.

“can you stop looking at me like that?” you say softly as you look over at him, your being patient, so patient at this point and it makes you wanna scream or cry. he’s digging for something in your shared dresser drawer at this point, minding his own business.

leon looks behind him, over his shoulder to where you sit on the bed. he raises a small brow, “i’m not even looking at you, baby. i’m getting clothes.” he says with a small hint of amusement in his voice.

“you know what i mean, leon.” you say in a annoyed tone as you shift on the bed, the many pillows for your back pain and a heating pad pressed up against it. you opted for a t-shirt of his and underwear, the only two things besides dresses that you could really stand these days.

he grabs his boxers and takes off his towel, you try to ignore the arousal that’s literally pooling uncomfortably in your underwear as you see it. your trying to stay annoyed, stay focused, but his dick is just right there. so far out of your reach but so close and you just want to pounce on him.

“i can’t stare at my beautiful wife now?” he says with a small notch in his brow, pulling his boxers up over his dick, making you disappointed and snap back into what was currently happening. you huff and rub your bump, shifting against the heating pad and pillows.

“no, you can.” you say with a small glare in his direction, “but if your not gonna do something about it, i’d rather you tell me then just…” you trail off when he crawls on the bed next to you, sitting beside you. “angel, you have something you wanna share with me?” he says in that low and intimate tone that gets your insides all bubbly.

you gnaw on your bottom lip in contemplation, “no. i don’t.” he chuckles lowly and moves even closer to you on the bed, putting his hand on your thigh and squeezing. “i hardly believe that, baby. no offense.” he says softly as he presses a kiss to your ear.

you were going to jump him if he didn’t stop this, he was teasing you. he had to be, it was ridiculous that he couldn’t even see how miserable this was making you. “can you just…?” you start and fail pathetically as you try to squirm into his touch more on your thigh.

“can i just what?” he says in a soft timbre into your ear, almost daring and pushing you to say it. to ask. you were beyond irritated and wound up now. everything hurt and your body felt hot. “can you please touch me?” you say softly, you sound whiney and desperate and it’s nothing like you. but a part of you really didn’t care anymore.

you hormonal, achy and moody beyond relief. you just wanted him to touch you, to fuck you even. it was getting annoying how much your body had craved him since you became pregnant.

he didn’t move his hand from your thigh, his breath still ghosting over your ear and the side of your face. “i am touching you, love.” he says with an arrogant smirk against your skin.

arrogant bastard. you thought to yourself, you were brazen in the moment. “it hurts, leon. just…please?” you practically whined in that moment, you didn’t like the teasing. not when your patience was already short enough as it was.

he pressed a tender kiss to the side of your head, “what hurts, baby?” he says softly as he rubs his hand up her thigh and over her bump, soothing tender circles over your body and the baby beneath.

you don’t even care anymore, the soothing feeling of his hand over your t-shirt was enough. your cheeks were red though and you guided his hand up to your swollen breasts beneath your (his) t-shirt that you wore.

“oh, honey.” he sighs softly in a contented whisper against your head, pressing a small kiss to your hairline. he doesn’t move his hand on one of your swollen breasts, just rests his hand there as if he’s just supporting it with his large hand over the fabric.

“leon…please, it hurts.” you hear yourself breathe out in a whimper, one of pain or of desire, you didn’t know. you didn’t care to know right now. “hold on, hold on.” he mumbled softly as he shifted next to you, getting closer to your side, he adjusted himself on the pillows next to you.

“can’t deny my pretty little wife. can i?” he says into your ear with a small nip as his hand squeezed and kneaded one of your swollen breasts. you couldn’t help the sound that came out of you, a mix of relief and desire that you didn’t know you could make.

he moves his lips to press against your neck, nipping and licking as he kneads your breasts, trying to make the pain subside as you moan. “feels s’good…” you mumble in between small noises.

“i know, i know. sorry, for teasing you all this time.” he mumbles into your neck, “gotta stop teasing you…” he mumbles again in between kisses as he presses one more kiss under your ear.

his hands working up your swollen and aching breasts, you could feel your panties practically dripping with release. you grab at his bicep, curling around the muscle there for balance. “please…” you whimper softly.

he moves his lips up to your ear, “what do you want? use your words, baby.” he nips at your earlobe and keeps kneading your breasts, alleviating some of the ache there.

you grip down on his bicep harder, your hormones from the pregnancy were going crazy at his touch. “anything…something, please.” you whine softly near his ear as you almost draw blood. you just needed a release and you weren’t going to get far with him kneading your breasts.

“how about i eat out that pretty pussy? hmm?” he practically purrs into your ear as one of his hands leads down from your breasts to beneath the covers. your soaked underwear beneath your rotund belly, he finds it. an amusing sound leaving his mouth at your ear, tracing the pads of his fingers over your wet slit of your underwear.

his words and his touches having a disastrous affect on your pregnant body, you felt like a match that he was striking with flame and then putting out. it was so much in the best way possible.

you just nod rapidly, emitting a small whine as you clutch his bare bicep harder. “okay, pretty girl.” he presses another kiss to your ear, smirking to himself. he traces your wet slit again, marveling at how soaked you were for him.

“practically drenching your underwear, this all for me?” he muses as he pulls back on the bed next to you, pushing the covers back from your body. your hand falling down to the sheets beneath you, “yes…” you manage to get out as he clicks his tongue. a growl almost rose from his mouth as he gets farther back on the bed, moving in between your knees.

he sees the wet patch that’s soaking your underwear, he knew you were hormonal from the pregnancy. but god, how much arousal could form just from you looking at him? it needed to be studied, but he couldn’t help but feel his ego and confidence inflate.

your bodies reaction to him would always be something he’d never get tired of. especially now when you were drenching your pretty panties.

“fuck, baby. missed this sweet pussy.” he rasps as he looks up at you with hooded blue eyes, his pupils dilated. you knew that look well enough to know that he was going to give you what you both wanted.

release.

you mewl, “please, leon. don’t wanna beg…” you try to reach down to yank his hands or his head closer but your pregnant belly stops you. he puts a hand on the inside of your thigh, “no begging required. i’m going to eat out my pretty pregnant wife. i’m hungry anyways.” he smirks devilishly as he massage the meat of your thigh.

he doesn’t waste anytime, your head hits the mountains of pillows behind you. your chest rising and falling fast beneath his t-shirt that your wearing. his hands come up to the waist band of your underwear and slowly pull them down over your hips and bent legs.

your bare pussy is on display now and you feel the cold air hit your most private parts, ones that he’s seen before but now…now that you were pregnant and carrying his child…things were different. you looked more delicious now, looked more like he could eat you out for days. eat you and fuck you until the baby came.

god help him.

he doesn’t waste anytime, none whatsoever. he’s going to give you what you want. he rubs his fingers through your arousal, spreading it everywhere and teasing you just a bit longer.

you whine, “leon, please…just stop. i want it.” he looks up at you from where he’s laying on the mattress in between your bent legs. “i know baby, just admiring how beautiful you are…everywhere.” he smirks to himself and presses a kiss to the hood of your clit.

you moan a little, he clicks his tongue. “so sensitive.” he muses, “good to know some things never change after pregnancy.” he whispers as he presses another kiss to your clit.

“fuck…leon…” you whine softly, clenching the sheets beneath you. your hormone fueled body making you out to be this whiny monster.

he just chuckles against the skin of your dripping pussy, “just sit back and relax, sweet girl. i’ve got you.” he says as he runs his hands up to the sides of your hips, holding you steady as he dips his head down.

he starts licking a long stripe up from your drenched opening to your clit, your head tilting back as you moan loudly. you never failed to amaze him, get him hard and all worked up. you both had that affect on each other, good to know it was still intact.

how had leon not done this yet? not touched you this way yet when you’d been pregnant? you were like putty in his hands right now.

he felt like an idiot.

a large one. 

he stuck his tongue into your soaked opening and licked, fucking you with his tongue as you clenched the sheets harder beneath you. “fuck, want…uhh, so fucking good!” you moan loudly, practically screaming.

he just keeps fucking you with his tongue, almost rutting his boxer clad erection into the mattress. he reached one hand down to rub his thumb over your clit, still fucking you with his tongue.

your back arches a little, as much as it can without you hurting yourself. a white knuckled grip on the mattress is all you have as he ravishes you, keeps his tongue and fingers working you into oblivion as you writhe and moan underneath him.

“leon! uhh…fuck…” you babble nonsense as you feel the coil start to build in your lower abdomen, you had never come this fast before. but the fact that you were pent up, more hormonal then usual and he was working you open with his skilled mouth and fingers…

you were fucked, figuratively and literally.

he took his tongue out of your opening moving the finger that was on your clit, down to your soaked opening. his fingers working you open now, sliding one in which causes you to release a long moan, his name rolling off of your tongue.

his mouth attaching itself to your clit and licking, sucking and swirling his tongue. he was smirking as he did it. knowing that he was gonna feel you come all over his fingers and face.

he could do this forever, keep you pregnant forever just so he could hear those pretty little sounds you made when you’d fall apart beneath him.

he kept moving his pointer finger in and out, swirling his tongue over your swollen clit as you moaned obscenely, thanking god and him and his mouth.

“just…yes! fuck! gonna cum!” you babble again, losing all rational thoughts as he continued to lick and rub and finger you. you felt helpless under his touch, but in the best way. the way that made you and the unborn baby inside of you feel safe and cherished, loved even.

he just kept it up, only breaking his licking at your clit to talk you through it, “good girl, pretty little wife gonna cum all over my fingers? huh?” he says with a raspy voice, his lips stained in a gloss of your arousal.

you moan softly in response and nod, your eyes fluttering open and shut, your pussy clenching around his fingers. pulling them out just to push another long inside of you and curl your fingers upwards until he found your magic spot.

you whine at that, smacking a hand down on the sheets underneath you. “there it is…” he muses in a low tone, “good girl, maybe if your really nice i’ll pump another baby into you tomorrow.” he says with a smirk.

you moan, “fuck…yes!” you yell out, the idea of him fucking you and promising to get you even more pregnant…it was making that band inside of you get closer to snapping.

“you’d like that wouldn’t you? filling you up with my big cock and pumping you full of my cum?” he teases as he keeps fucking you with his two fingers, the noise of your arousal would normally be a turn off but you were so close to release that you didn’t care anymore.

you moaned and nodded dumbly in response, his free hand sliding from your hip to rub over the swell of your belly. “pump another baby into you, fuck, you’d love that.” he says lowly.

“i-i would…fuck, want more babies…” you whine softly as you writhe more, some tears leaking out of your eyes. he almost growls at that, pumping his fingers harder inside of you and rubbing that sweet spot that makes you see stars.

he knew you were close, knew you were going to reach that point that made you all blissed out and needy. “cmon baby, come all over my fingers. know you can.” he encouraged with a kiss to your clit, his free hand still rubbing over your belly.

all it took was him talking more, working you up with his sweet words and his fingers hitting the mark over and over again inside of you. you moaned loudly, clenching around his fingers. your release coating all over his digits.

he didn’t say anything, just worked you through it until overstimulation set in, removing his fingers from you. he brought them both up and licked the release from his fingers.

you watched him with undivided attention, your eyes lazily opening and closing in the haze of your orgasm. he smiled softly and crawled from in between your legs to rest over you, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“don’t you ever think for one second that i don’t want to fuck you, taste you or do that. i love you and i love making you fall apart. you being pregnant…has nothing to do with me holding off.” he says in a reassurance, pressing another small kiss to your lips.

being mindful as he leaned over you not to disturb the bump of your belly. your eyes locked on his as he looked down at you, “i’ve just been stressed and on edge with prepping for the baby. it’s had absolutely nothing to do with you being pregnant.” he says softly, reaching a hand up and running it through the hair at the base of your skull.

“your so beautiful, so fucking beautiful. i know you don’t see it these days. but you are even hotter now that your carrying my baby, our baby.” he explains with a gentle smile, making some water prick into your eyes.

“so don’t think for one second that i find you unattractive or that i’m teasing you on purpose.” he says with another small peck to your lips, “you understand me?”

you nod slowly as you look up at him, blinking the small amount of water away from your eyes. you should’ve never doubted him, should’ve never thought that about yourself.

and he hated that, hated that he made you doubt yourself and your body for one second. you were so beautiful, you were his and he loved you. he had loved you long before you both spoke your vows in front of god and each other.

he loved you so much, as much as you loved him. so he rolled off from hovering on top to you, cuddling his body next to yours, letting himself wrap his strong arms around your pregnant body.

he wanted to hold you close to his heart, he always did inside. he always kept you there because that’s where you deserved to be. you were his wife and the mother of his (soon to be) child.

he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, pulling the covers back up over you and him, cuddling you close. his hand rubbing over your belly with the fabric of his own t-shirt covering it. “your so very beautiful, baby. i love you so much. even when you don’t see it.” he says against the side of your head, pressing another kiss there.

you melted into his arms, your eyes fluttering close in exhaustion and in content. you didn’t feel so insecure and anxious anymore. you knew that he had been off, but he was just as stressed as you. he had to be, you were going to be a mom and he was going to be a dad.

it was a lot of pressure.

but as long as you both had each other, you knew you guys could do it. the rings on your hands symbolizing the best and worst parts of you and him, the parts that you accepted and promised to love forever.

and with him, it would never be scary. not if you had a husband like leon, and he would love you just as much as the baby inside of you.

it was a part of both of you, that could never be unloved. not if either of you had anything to say about it.

an: hope you guys enjoy. i couldn’t deny a double upload this week, my bad lol. i love you guys so much and i hope you enjoyed. happy friday!! i’m gonna be opening my requests again soon. i wrote this when i was ovulating so no harsh judgement. please reblog and like, kisses. xx.

taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl (if you wanna be on my taglist interact with the link at the beginning)



[angelsforthenight]

MRS. AND MRS. SMITH — abby anderson x fem!reader

ways you can help gaza 🇵🇸

do not buy tlou2 remastered!

a/n: this is way more inspired by the mr and mrs smith series (2024) not the 2005 one!!! this explains why they’re wives :3

you’re an assassin along with your assigned partner/wife, abby anderson. fed up with her toxic behaviour, you’re pleased when the mission is centred around you seducing a man for murderous motives. why? well, because you know it’ll get under abby’s skin. little did you know, things would blow over way more than you thought it would.

cw: mdni, owen feature🤮🤮, long fic, kinda slow-burn ig?, femme fatale, arranged marriage couple, kinda toxic relationship, violence, mention of blades, car sex, mean!abby, bratty!reader, dom!abby, degrading, bdsm, ass-smacking, finger-fucking, cursing, jealous!abby, hair pulling, dry-humping, finger-sucking, choking, rough sex, teasing, squirting.

“short brown hair, rugged beard. got that?” abby’s murmuring voice comes in from the earpiece you’ve got attached. you groan and roll your eyes, wishing you could mute the goddamn thing.

see, any other day, you would’ve loved to hear your wife’s pretty little voice guiding you — her praises when you’d do something right or her degrades if you’d do something wrong both sending shivers down your spine, compelling you to do whatever she wanted.

but not today. today you’re over it. so what do you respond with?

“yeah, i know, anderson. we both got the fucking brief.” you hiss. you know how pissed abby gets whenever you curse at her; so that’s exactly what you do. you relish at the thought of her gritting her teeth, not being able to snap at you in front of all of these people.

that’s right, you two are at a charity gala event. it’s fancy. too fancy to the point where it’s intimidating: glistening chandeliers, artistic decorations and bustling people wearing glamorous attire. you and abby needed to blend in with the crowd so not only are you two dressed smartly for the occasion but are also split up. not that you’re complaining. you’re sick of her. sick of her petulance whenever you’d get glorified by the agency instead of her, sick of how sometimes she can be so simple-minded, sick of how, at points, she lacks at making you feel loved.

your job is to take out an owen moore, for unforeseen reasons. you never question what the agency tells you to do, neither does abby.

you’re planning to lure him in an concealed area with your enticing charisma, make him believe you’re going to sleep with him before slicing him dead with your blade. you prowl through the many people, scanning the area with a keen eye to find him. claude debussy plays as background music, taming your harrowing nerves. killing is never easy.

“found him yet?” abby sighs.

“please don’t distract me.” there’s way too many people and it’s beginning to stress you out. what if you never find him? failing the mission is the last thing you wanna do.

“i’m getting bored. plus, small talk with strangers pisses me off.” she complains.

“not my goddamn problem.” you retort, the ends of your tight-fitting dress flailing against your legs as you pick up the pace, worrying if there’s not enough time, worrying if he’s even here in the first place.

“literally what is your problem? acting extra fuckin’ snobby tonight...”

your eyebrows knit together. abby always finds a way to get under your skin.

“let’s not fucking start—“ you’re about to snap and make yourself look like a fool in front of all of these people until somebody accidentally bumps into you: spilling his drink all over your dress. great!

“oh shit. sorry, i didn’t mean that.” you hear a man’s voice as you stare down at your ruined dress in disbelief. you slowly glance up at the culprit; only to find the noted brown hair and rugged beard staring right back at you. owen moore.

despite your worked up embarrassment and your extreme annoyance, you manage to flash a smile.

“it’s okay, but... you do realise you owe me now right?” you bat your eyelashes, hoping you don’t look silly.

“and what’s that?” owen chuckles, rubbing the back of his head and making immense eye contact. he’s already flirting back, you think. this is about to be so fucking easy.

with a few drinks, owen’s already tipsy and you’re leading him to the vast room. you make him believe you’re just as woozy; stumbling and giggling away. you take advantage of his obliviousness: your hand brushing against the slit of your dress, fingers cupping the wooden handle of the blade in the garter wrapped around your thigh. whilst he laughs and babbles nonsense, you carefully trace the edge of the blade — feelings of excitement rushing to the surface. regardless of the fact that killing is never easy, it’s also never not exhilarating.

you’re about to fully whip out the blade until owen decides to be bold: setting his slobbery hands against the small of your back and trying to lean in for a kiss.

“woah.” you feign a grin, pulling his hands away. “we go at my pace.”

“aww… please?” he mumbles, trying to seem like an adorable puppy but instead making it look disgusting. this is sad, you think. you try to grab your knife again but he’s now grabbing your arms; desperate for a fruitless smooch.

“come on… don’t play hard to get.” he growls, his sudden aggression catching you a little off guard. no need for stress, you know what to do. your knee prepares itself to kick hard in between his legs until somebody’s arm suddenly emerges from behind, wrapping around his neck and squeezing hard.

“what—“ you breathe in bewilderment, eyes widening. despite owen choking and uselessly clawing at abby’s arm for escape, her gaze stays intently trained on yours; a death stare. it’s unnerving.

it doesn’t take long for owen to turn cold and slack, eyes rolling to the back of his head. abby lets him go, but not without cracking his neck first, and you watch as he flops onto the floor.

“what the fuck, abby…” you mutter, palming a frustrated hand across your face. “where the hell did you even come from?”

“there’s doors.” she tilts her head towards the backdoor behind her. you hadn’t even noticed it. your eyes travel back to her; irresistibly ogling at the black suit clinging to her body, complimenting her form. you almost forget you’re supposed to be mad at her.

the blonde chuckles wryly, a petty exhale. “you starin’? assumed pussy boys were more your type.”

“real fucking mature.” you snarl. “i had him. i was this close to killing him, abby.”

“you were taking too long.” abby shrugs, condescendingly pouting. you grit your teeth.

“jealousy? really? grow up.”

“at least i watch where i’m going. nice dress, the wet splotch is a nice touch, really.” she slanders, narrowing her eyes. you scoff, trying to pretend as if that dig didn’t offend you.

“you’re a fucking child. help me with the body.”

you two leave the building with ease, pretending as if owen is a friend that’s had too much to drink, wrapping his arms around the both of your shoulders and leading him to your car. abby opens the boot and you two push him inside. you two will decide on how deal with the body later.

for now, you’re sat on the passenger’s seat whilst abby drives, the two of you salty and quiet. abby’s driving way too fast; her hand gripping the steering wheel like her life depends on it. she’s obviously fuming.

“can you slow down?” you glare at her.

“you owe me… i mean, who even says that?” abby grumbles, ignoring your request.

“a lot of people do. now slow down, we don’t wanna attract attention from police knowing there’s a dead body back there.”

“not to mention that you’ve had an attitude since last night! the way you were flirting with that oliver guy? or whatever the fuck his name was, had to be on purpose. to spite me.”

abby starts driving even faster, increasing your stress. “owen.” you correct, “you’re so self absorbed!” you continue to beg for her to slow down.

“he’s, like, the embodiment of revolting too. don’t even get me started at the way he was trying to force himself on you. i should’ve put a bullet in his brain.” abby rattles on, pure jealousy oozing from her tone.

“you were definitely enjoying it too. i know you were.” she turns her head to look at you, not paying attention to the road.

“abby. abby!” you scream as abby almost runs through a poor family trying to cross the road.

“fuck.” abby murmurs as she swerves messily, just in the nick of time, steering into a deserted field. the two of you are out of breath from the fright, hearts racing from the adrenaline. abby rests her head on the wheel, letting out a long sigh.

“just what the hell is the matter with you?” you scold, “all this shit over a mission? are you serious?” abby’s lack of response leads you to continue yelling at her.

“of course we’re going to have to flirt with our targets now and then! the fuck happened to your professionalism? if i had known you’d be acting like this then i would’ve never—“

“why didn’t you kiss him?” abby raises her head to look up at you, her face blank. you blink, a little taken aback by the unexpected question.

“i…” you look away. you’re not exactly up for abby knowing that you couldn’t kiss him because of her. “where even are we anyway?”

“nice try. since you’re so professional, why didn’t you kiss him? he clearly wanted to. you could’ve easily killed him then.” the corner of abby’s lips arch up into a smirk — the familiar smug look of hers that never fails to get you weak.

“for someone who’s had so much to say just a second ago…” she leans in a little, arm resting against your headrest, “…you’re awfully quiet.” her voice is hushed down to a soft whisper, and you swear you’re beginning to feel a little lightheaded.

“look, abby, you’re my wife… so…” you mumble in response to her pressing question, avoiding eye contact. abby chuckles, loosening her tie. here comes the floodgates.

“don’t play dumb and pretend as if the agency didn’t arrange that.” her finger presses against the dome light of the car; illuminating your embarrassed face. just what she wanted to see.

“you’ve been enjoying yourself, seeing me all jealous like this. you liked playing femme fatale, hmm?” her finger slowly twists itself around a strand of your hair, before she yanks a handful, forcing your head closer. you wince, eyes clenched shut. your cunt decides to flex too — reminding you that she’s got a mind of her own, and that she finds being in an empty field like this, in abby’s car, pretty fucking hot.

“let’s face it…” abby whispers, so close that you can feel her breath tickling your ear, shooting heavy tingles down your body.

“you want me so bad it hurts.” her eyes drift down to your thighs that are starting to shift uncomfortably in your seat. it’s beginning to ache down there and it seems like abby’s aware of that. you can’t help it. after all, abby sitting so close: loose strands of hair framing her face, unfastened tie and darkened eyes fixed on you, feels so good that it’s suffocating.

you squirm a little and abby grins, her fingers still laced in your hair. her grip slightly tightens as she licks her lips. she looks hungry.

“maybe what hurts is your fingers in my hair.” you quip, though your voice is a little shaky.

“maybe you need to fix your attitude.” abby retorts, “like, seriously, pipe down… you’re probably soaking down there.” she snickers, right on the money.

“fuck you.” you glare at her, gauging her reaction. you want to believe you’re saying this out of sheer anger for what went down tonight, but deep down, you know that’s not the case. in reality, you just want to get under abby’s skin. it’s what you’ve been craving since the beginning; to get her pissed.

you wipe the pleased look off of abby’s face, which is now replaced with a frown. your heart pounds with anticipation: so much so that your chest faintly heaves, lips parted.

abby’s eyes wander to your lips and in one swift movement, she pulls you in; pressing her lips against yours. you’re quick to kiss her back, the sweetness of her mouth sealing yours. fervent can’t even begin to explain the way you two are kissing. akin to wild animals, small muffled groans escape the both of you.

desperation is thick in the confined air of the car, as abby pulls away and shrugs her blazer off. you stare up at her.

“hurry… with your slow-ass.” you whine.

“watch your fucking mouth. c’mere.” abby commands. you naturally do as she says and she begins to unzip your dress — not without making sure to go deliberately slow.

“why do you have to be so mean?” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of her neck.

“oh, trust me… i’m only gonna be meaner.” she warns whilst planting gentle kisses on your neck. you’ve always admired abby for her ability to vary from being sour to tender in seconds. little did you know, the peppered kisses on your neck served as a prior apology to how cruel she’s going to treat you in a second.

once everything is off, abby marvels at your body. like a painting in an art gallery, she makes sure to pay attention to even the minuscule details of your body. it’s her favourite thing in the entire world.

“turn around.” abby mutters, her eyes hazy; voice bleeding with lust.

“what?”

“just do it.”

you hesitantly do as she says. abby beams: finding your weak resistance amusing yet is also excited to break you.

“now… bend over.” she coos, clearly poking fun.

you shoot her a glare, cheeks flushed. “what am i, your dog?”

“don’t piss me off.”

you glare at her for a few seconds longer before sighing, reluctantly bending over.

“arching that back and everything… wooow.” abby teases, “and to think i haven’t even touched you yet.”

“oh, just fuck off, abby…” you complain, the embarrassment beginning to overwhelm you.

“what was that?”

“i said fuck—“ but you’re cut off by a yelp when abby brings her palm down flat against your ass. you flinch violently; very, very taken off guard.

“mm? didn’t quite hear you. repeat yourself.” abby taunts, smacking you again. you grunt and flinch yet again, feeling the sting of her slap coarse through your body. abby’s humiliating you, milking every last drop of your embarrassment. the worst thing yet? you’re enjoying this way more than you should be.

“i’m not kidding. speak.” abby commands, showing no signs of mercy. your skin is already starting to gleam red, and your pussy? well, it’s a fucking party down there.

“abby…” you cry, completely under her control. the more she smacks, flesh recoiling under her palm, the more your head goes blank.

“go on babe… finish what you were saying before.” abby prods. this time, when she smacks you, her fingers grasp the flesh on your ass tightly; watching in delight as her fingertips leave little red marks. you’re trembling like a leaf, both from the pain and the arousal.

see, the thing with abby is that she never likes to let things go. she adores jabbing at you until she gets what she wants.

another smack, this one so hard that you need to press your palms against the window. abby then grips your waist and pulls you way closer; making your ass press against her hips.

“you wanna get fucked?” abby mutters, teasingly bringing your waist back and forth against her hips: hard, playful thrusts. your bare cunt pressing against her crotch is, without a doubt, driving you insane. you frantically nod in response to her question, in which abby replies with latching her hand around your neck; forcing you upright so that your back is now against her chest.

“use your words.”

“y-yes…” tears begin to stream down your face. you’re desperate, yearning for her touch as if it’s a life or death situation.

“so finish what you were saying.” her fingers slightly squeeze around the sides of your neck.

“i-i told you to f-fuck off but i d-didn’t… haa… mean it.” you splutter. the you a while ago would’ve had her mouth agape in horror at your behaviour right now.

“see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?” abby coos, her fingers tracing down your stomach, in between your thighs. long, drawn-out circles are traced on your swollen clit, her fingers pressing just the right amount of pressure. you groan, and abby taps her chin against your shoulder; smirking at how your legs are writhing, desperate for more.

“where’d all your attitude go?” the blonde ridicules. her other hand moves over to your breast, squeezing it, her thumb caressing your nipple. as to the hand working on you, her middle and ring finger brush against your folds; up and down. she’s touching you but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough: abby knows that.

“don’t do this to me, abby…” you exasperate. she lets out a breathy chuckle before flipping you over and setting you down onto the car seat. she reclines it back, eyes yet again fixed on you. you stare up at her with big glossy eyes, your head blank as if you’ve been dumbed down.

abby gloats at how helpless you look, grabbing your face with one hand and squishing your cheeks. “you look stupid.”

“shut up and fuck me.” you mutter in a muffled tone. abby laughs as if what you’ve said was the funniest joke in the entire world. you wonder if abby can feel your cheeks burning up against her palm.

before you know it, abby plows her thick fingers so far inside your cunt that you’d squeal, if it wasn’t for abby’s hand still clenched on your cheeks.

“this what you wanted?” abby purrs, fingers curling up against your g-spot already. you moan, back arching and squirming.

“oh! riiiiight, you can’t speak.” she gloats, playfully shaking your head with her hand. you whine in embarrassment, yet you secretly enjoy how she’s handling you like a doll.

abby’s finger-fucking you rough, wet squelch noises filling up the car. the sound of it is so erotic that it leaves you dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your head. the blonde releases her grip on your face but not her thumb, that slips inside of your mouth.

“suck.” you mindlessly do as she says, as if you’re brainwashed. you can see abby’s cheeks tint red when you slowly suck her thumb, making sure to keep eye contact.

abby chuckles, looking away. seems like she didn’t think you’d actually do it.

“you’re shy.” you point out. you triumph over the fact that now it’s her turn to be embarrassed, but not for long.

“shut the fuck up.” abby says brusquely, her fingers operating way harder than before; relentlessly pounding against your g-spot. you cry, feeling overwhelmingly good.

that rigid attitude you had a moment ago? now dead and buried. you feel surreal, a series of mewls and sobs leaving your lips.

“nothing smart to say anymore? you look fucking pathetic.” and she’s right. you look like a hot mess. abby smothers your tears all over your face. you mindlessly move your hips, fucking yourself on her fingers. she smirks, loving what she’s seeing. you feel a knot beginning to untie in your stomach, sublime throbs coursing all over your body.

“i’m cumming…” you manage to choke out.

“i know.” abby buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you shiver at the feel of her breath against your skin.

“i’ll decide to be nice and let you finish.”

and that’s your cue. with an ending moan to seal it off, you feel your body tense up, eyes widening. abby leans in and presses her forehead against yours. you squeeze your eyes shut, before your body relaxes. you’re panting like a dog, staring up at abby with foggy and depleted eyes.

“so cute…” she murmurs before cupping your chin and kissing you — this time, soft and tender as opposed to the way she was kissing you before. you feel warm.

so absorbed in each other, you two forget about how you’re in the middle of nowhere and how the body in the car boot needs to be dealt with. for now, you two have something more important to worry about: how you’re gonna clean up the mess you’ve left all over the chair and dashboard.

a/n: you made it !!! thought it’d be funny if the target was owen😭😭 hope u enjoyed reading <3

[tootiecakes234]

I just know you would receive “gifts” from Katsuki all the time. They’d be little things to make your life easier that you didn’t even know you needed.

You like to read at night to unwind, but sometimes it’ll be a really good book so you want to stay up reading it. The thing is you don’t wanna bother Katsuki cuz you know he has a strict bedtime. This means often times you’ll stay a little longer in the living room reading as to not bother him.

One night you’re getting ready for bed when you see a box next to your bed.

“Hey Kat, is this yours?”, you say loud enough for him to hear you in the bathroom.

He peaks his head out the door and says, “No, I ordered it for you.” And then goes back to what he was doing.

You sit on the edge of the bed and open it up. It’s a reading light with a dampener so you can adjust the brightness.

He comes dragging his little slippered feet towards his side of the bed.

“Now you can keep your ass in bed. Tired of waking up and you being asleep on the couch. I’m an old man, I can’t keep carrying you to bed.”

You look at him with a bright smile on your face.

“You know you can just say, you like me being in the bed with you while you’re sleeping. You know, because I’m your big bad protector and I make you feel safe.”

“There is no talking to you sometimes you know that?”

It’s winter time and you always have your gloves on because you HATE your fingers being cold. The only problem is of course you have to remove said gloves to use your phone when you’re out and that SUCKS.

You’re out with him one day and you’ve been texting back and forth with Mina because her and her girlfriend are in an argument and she of course comes to you about it.

You are always there for your friend so you’ve been removing and putting on your gloves over and over again until Katsuki can’t stand it anymore.

You’re outside on a bench waiting for him while he runs into some shop when he comes back out he snatches your phone out of your hand.

“What the hell? I’m usin-“ you start shouting at him.

“ give me those shitty gloves and put these on. I’m sick of watching you struggle.”

When you look down you see a pair of gloves in your favorite color.

“How are these any different from the ones I have now, Mr. Know-it-all”

He smirks at you, “These gloves are thicker than those thin ones you use AND they work on smart phones.. so yea. I do know it all.”

“Oh…. Well thanks I guess” you murmur lowly.

“Now you can talk Racoon eyes through her mental breakdowns without getting frost bite in your fingers.”he says then hands you back your phone. “She deserve better than that idiot anyways. Don’t why she keeps putting up with it.”

Katsuki is leaving for a mission today and you’ve been so gloomy. He gonna be gone at least 3 days, maybe even the whole week.

You’re been wrapped around him like ivy since you woke up this morning.

“Listen woman, I have to go. You do this every time.”he says with his arms wrapped around you waist pulling you even more flush against him.

“You should clone yourself or something. Who am I gonna cuddle with now?? And who is gonna cook for me?? I’ll die of starvation before you get back. Is that what you want. To come home to a dead girlfriend???”

“You are so damn dramatic. Cuddle with the damn plethor of plushies you have in my goddamn bed. And as far as food… you won’t starve. You’ll just eat out everyday and I’ll come back to you complaining you’ve gained weight when you look the exact same.”

“I do not.”, you start to object.

“Yes you do. Which is why I made a few meals and froze them.” He says all smug, cuz he knows that would surprise you.

“You what??” You ask looking up at him with wide eyes.

“There’s a pot pie and dumplings. I even stored a lasagna in there.” Then his phone buzzes letting him know his ride is downstairs.

“Ok I gotta go. I love you.” And he bends down to give you a deep kiss. “Be safe. Call Eiji if you need anything and try not to burn the house down before I get back.���

“I love you too. Come back to me in one piece please.”

He smiles at you, “always”

He kisses you one more time and then heads to the car.

You go directly to the fridge to see the frozen meals he left you. And not only are the packages all neatly but he’s left the heating instructions on top for you.

To say there were tears shed would be an understatement.

Katsuki Masterlist

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