#tired and exhausted and i still need to process a lot

[imwritesometimes]

roof leaking. ugly water spot on ceiling of bedroom. despair. agony. panic. millions of phone calls to different contractors. finally. a single kindly older man. very professional. fully licensed. his company can come this week. his company can accept half payment now and half later. no problem. can we actually come earlier? like today? I am 🥹🥹

[yeleltaan]

//Hello! It's been quiet here, even a little more so than usual.

Things have been fine, everything important has stayed okay. I've just been having trouble dealing with the start of the semester. The classes are long, the assignments are plentiful, and I've been having a very hard time staying focused for them. It's just been a slog, I'm anxious and because I'm having trouble focusing these things end up taking up a lot of my day.

I don't know when I'll start popping up more around here, or how much writing you can expect from me in the near future. I can at least say that I do want to be here, and I'm trying. I just don't really know when things will get better for my brain, or if I'll still try to power through and write before then or if activity will have to wait until the root issue improves significantly.

I'll be around to plot. That's my way of keeping things alive even when the ability to write isn't there, so please if you're interested in some idea and we haven't been talking about it, feel free to approach me. I may be a little slower with chats, but I will respond.

Best of luck with whatever you're dealing with, take care.

[solemntitty]

love discovering that more childhood trauma affects you than you thought. like i went from a non functional teenager to a barely functional adult and that was a lot, now im figuring out that i deny myself being happy bc trauma that i STILL have to deal with???? ughhhhh. like this shit has been 15 years already and over half my life!!! when will i be done???

[delicioushottubpeanut]

♡ babysitter

oneshot - inspired by that one edit

fandom: five nights at freddys (movie)

paring: mike schmidt x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, dry humping, sexual tension, kissing, friends to lovers, cumming in pants, submissive mike, foul language, teasing, smut, riding, dom reader, consensual sex, age gap, minors dni..

You've heard a lot about him from Abby, mainly bits and pieces that she's told you, but nothing really about him and the only thing he really says to you is that he's eventually going to pay you back. But you always refuse.

The old couch squeaks softly as he sits beside you, a gentle hand goes to reach your face but hesitates.

He’s been very busy for a while now that he has started his new job at a security guard that was shut down ages ago. When he comes home he's always so tired, like he's a different person. As if he cannot relax. You hear the door open and slam back as it he closes it.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you come back.." You whisper, groaning whilst you move out of the position you had been in for a while. Yawning as you gently wipe your eyes.

Mike looks at you, half-smiling as he leans against the cushions. He's tired, you can tell. "Sorry if I woke you, you looked exhausted, so I just wanted to cover you," he whispers back, stretching his arms. "Did Abby go okay for you?" he asks.

"I told her it's bedtime an hour ago, but you know how it is with little ones." You joke.

"Abby was great, she missed you, though.." You smile sheepishly, shifting on the coach to face him. "How was work?" You ask, seeing the slight bags under his eyes.

Mike chuckles softly, leaning his head back and letting out a deep sigh as he stares up at the ceiling.

"It was long," he sighs. "I mean, I've gotten used to it, of course, but god, it's draining..." He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, looking off to the side and fiddling with his fingers, trying to find the right words to explain what just happened at work. He seems hesitant to say.

"You okay? You can talk to me if something is bothering you." Hesitantly placing your hand on his shoulder, slowly forcing him to look at you. You've known him for years due to babysitting Abby, but he's never opened up.

"Well... it's just..." Mike sighs again, still not meeting your eyes. "...Abby asked me some questions about stuff today."

He rubs the back of his neck, shifting in his seat as if he's about to say something and then thinks better of it. He leans back against the coach, letting out a frustrated grunt as his eyebrows pinch in frustration. "I... I just can't tell her."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" You whisper, staring at him, waiting for a response.

Mike's face softens a little, looking over at you before he sighs, shaking his head. "It's nothing. Abby asked about the job, and... well, it got me thinking..." He shrugs his shoulders again, still looking off to the side.

"Look, I'll tell Abby about it myself, I don't... I shouldn't put it on you..." He sighs one again, staring at the floor.

"If you need me, don't hesitate." You place your hand on his thigh, squeezing it for reassurance. Gaining confidence, you slowly move your body off the couch and sit on his lap.

"Oh..." Mike says quietly, his face turning bright red as you place your hand on his thigh. He looks down at you, his expression of uncertainty on his face changing as his eyebrows rise.

He's speechless, frozen in shock at your touch, and his entire face is practically bright pink. He's suddenly a lot warmer, his chest heaving as his heartbeat picks up speed. "... Y- you're..." he says with the last of his breath, his brain having trouble finding the right words to say.

"Is this okay..?" You grind against his lap, whispering against his ear.

"Shit..." He stammers, his brain desperately trying to process what you're doing. He looks confused, his eyes drifting down to you as his mind races.

"What... what are you... n- no, it's... we can't..." Mike stutters, trying to find a way to reject you. But the longer you're in his lap, the harder it is for him to say no.

"Just relax, Abby is fast asleep in her room.." You grind harder against him, using your index finger to tilt his chin up, making eye contact when you suddenly hear him whimper.

"T- this isn't the time..." he mumbles in response, his eyes closing at the sensation and his whimpers becoming more noticeable.

"W- we shouldn't be doing this..." he whispers, his arms hesitating in the air for a moment before they eventually wrap around your waist. He's still torn between going along with it or saying no, his heart racing as he gazes at you.

"Beg for me to continue." You stop moving your hips, feeling his arousal throb against your ass. Wanting to see how he would react.

"P- please... God.." he whispers, the breath catching in his throat and his voice turning raspy.

He looks at you, his eyes pleading, his body quivering under your control. His heart is pounding out of his chest. He swallows, looking up at you as his entire body screams for you to keep going while his mind fights back.

"You can do better than that.." You tease, breathing against his neck, gently creating bruises as you feel his slightly breath hitch.

Mike whimpers loudly when he feels your bites, his muscles tensing as he tries to relax.

"H- I- please, don't stop..." he murmurs hoarsely, sounding completely different than you've ever heard before. He whimpers again, his head tilted back as he tries to hide the pleasure in his face. He can't believe what he's doing, but he can't turn away.

"Good boy.." Slowly reaching to take off your top, revealing your covered breasts as you start to grind against him, pushing your panties to the side, creating a wet spot on his jeans.

Mike looks down at you, taking in the view as your top is removed, his face getting even pinker as his heart races.

He swallows nervously in response to your wetness, his eyes trailing down your body before they eventually turn back to your face. His cheeks are bright red, his breathing heavy as he glances back down at you, looking into your eyes as you look into his. He takes a long, drawn-out breath, his entire body quivering with anticipation.

"Just take what you want, Mike, no one is stopping you.." You tease, eagerly watching his reaction.

"I- it's..." Mike starts to say, but he can't say no to you, not right now. He leans back, pushing himself deeper into you like he can't help himself, the breath catching in his throat as he takes in the sensation. His eyes are closed as he tries to ignore his own morals.

His eyes snap open, his lips parted as he whispers, "More.."

"You close?" Whispering seductively, moving harder as you feel your climax coming fast.

"Oh, god..." Mike breathes out, his face red, and his eyes roll back into his head. He moans, bucking his hips up against you, feeling himself come close to release as he cums in his pants, feeling you come down from your high.

[tommydarlings]

take what’s yours and leave | t.w

pairing: toto wolff x reader

warnings: none

w/c: 0.8k

summary: after having another one of your infamous arguments with toto, you can’t take it anymore and tell him to take what’s his and leave, but you didn’t think that he would take your order that serious.

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +65 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

You were fighting with toto… again.

The two of you were fighting regularly, always raising voices and walking away from each other and then back into each others arms again, this time it was different though.

He rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt up and scoffed after you finished scolding him like a child, rolling his eyes at your behaviour, “Y/n, my love-”

“Don’t 'my love' me now, toto! I told you so many times already that you should give me a call or send me a quick message if you have to stay longer at the office at Mercedes! But every single damn time you just 'forget it' and let me sit here at home all alone and annoyed!” You spat up at the tall austrian.

Toto sighed and put his hands on his hips as he looked down at your angry figure, “I know, I know and I’m s-”

“Yeah, yeah you’re sorry, I know… I’ve heard this words a lot from you lately, toto,” you shook your head with a scoff, taking a few steps back from him, “I’m fucking tired of it, toto, I really am… you’re a grown man and you can’t manage to save some hours of your day for me…that’s sad if you ask me,” you shrugged.

Your older boyfriend ran his hands over his face, brushing his shirt hair back in the process, “baby, I know how fed up you are, but-”

“Then why do you keep-”

“Let me finish my sentence for once, okay?” He raised his voice a bit, making you gulp and look at the floor before he continued,

“But work is also very important to me, which doesn’t mean that you’re not important to me! Or that you’re less important! But I have responsibilities, my love, lots of tiring responsibilities that I need to take care of,” he told you in a calmer tone.

You cleared your throat and looked back up at him, “Then don’t be in a relationship if you’re work is exhausting,” you said angrily, still not being able to calm down.

Toto rolled his eyes and briefly let his head hung low at your comment, “You’re lack of understanding my work life is really unbelievable, isn’t it?” He looked at you from across the kitchen.

You chuckled and bit your lip, “my lack of understanding your work life?” You shook your head, “oh you got some balls, baby! I think your lack of acknowledging our relationship and the fact that you have something — or actually, someone, besides your stupid work life is unbelievably! No, it’s embarrassing!” You raised your voice as well and kept eye contact with your tall boyfriend.

Toto bit his inner cheek and shook his head, looking at the wall with crossed arms before he took a deep breath, “Now you’re speechless, huh? Because you know I’m right,” you added quickly.

The former racing driver raised his head and looked at you, “You know what?” You swiftly walked over to the modern door of your million dollar mansion and opened it, “take what’s yours and leave!”

You were furious, your blood was more than just boiling, you were really sick of him.

Toto scoffed again and bit his lip before a smirk made its way onto his face, making you furrow your browns in confusion.

Before you could even say anything, toto took long and quick steps towards you and swiftly picked you up, throwing you carelessly over his broad shoulder in a swift motion, giving you no time to protest.

You gasped and placed your palms onto his muscular back, “Toto, no! Let me down, what are you doing?” You asked him as his big, veiny hands squeezed your thighs,

“I'm doing what you told me to do, I'm taking what’s mine,” he told you calmly with — most probably — a cheeky smirk on his lips, making you almost — but only almost — laugh.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes before you let your head hung low, “Toto… you know that’s not what I meant, now let me down!” You continued protesting.

Your boyfriend only turned around and walked back to the kitchen, his big hand tightly holding the back of your thighs so you don’t fall.

He chuckled deeply, “what did you say, beautiful? I can’t hear you from back there,” the Austria joked wickedly, forcing you to roll your eyes once again.

“I said-”

But before you could repeat your sentence, toto swiftly threw your off of his broad shoulder and put you right in front of the countertop, making your back lean against it as he slowly placed bit of his palms on the countertop next to your hips, intimidatingly leaning in,

“What did you say? I’m sorry that I interrupted you, sweetheart… now you can go on,” he mumbled quietly, waiting for you to speak up.

But you only gulped as you looked io at him with big eyes, gently shaking your head, “N-No, everything’s fine,” you said softly.

“Are you sure, baby? Nothing you wanna say to me?” Toto continued whispering to you, leaning in a bit closer so that your nose was almost brushing his.

“N-Nope,” you replied almost nervously since he was so close.

He smirked before he took a step away from you again, “alright, if you say so, mein liebes,” my love.

[lvnleah]

Passing Shadows | Leah Williamson

Summary: You’re a nurse and your job gets a little too much so your fiancé, Leah, helps you do a different career.

Notes: this isn’t my favourite one-shot but it was too cute not to post. I also put a lot of work into it to scrap it <33

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Your footsteps echoed through the dimly lit hospital corridor. The night shift had been gruelling, and your eyes drooped with exhaustion. You longed for the warmth of your bed, the soft embrace of your pillow and Leah’s arms. As you pushed open the heavy exit door, you knew that Leah’s day was just beginning whilst yours was ending.

You were a nurse down at the local hospital in the emergency room. You mostly worked night shifts, they began at 8pm and ended at 8am. You were always rushed off your feet, you never knew what each day was going to be like.

Whilst you were running around, sorting medicines and scans out for patients, Leah was at home sleeping. Your life’s were far from the same.

You’d been with Leah for six years now, engaged for one and were soon hoping to start the IVF process at some point in the following year. You met Leah when you were a student nurse, you were twenty and Leah was twenty-one when you met.

You and your friends from university had decided to go out one night and that's how you’d met Leah. You were both tipsy and ended up hooking up that night, the next morning you woke up tangled together in the sheets. Ever since then you’d been inseparable. Things happened quickly and before you knew it you were dating and moved in together, you’d never looked back.

You got into your car and placed your bag on the passenger seat, you linked your phone to the car and played your music. You listened to your playlist, one Leah had made for you, as the sun rose above the road ahead of you.

When you arrived at your and Leah’s apartment you set your bag in the hallway, Leah’s football boots and bag were still there so you knew she was still at home.

Leah stood at the over, making you and her some breakfast. "Hey love," Leah smiled, leaving the oven and waking over to you. "Long night?"

You nodded, melting into Leah’s embrace as she pulled you into her chest. "The ER was chaotic, I’m so tired."

Leah's eyes softened. "You did so well, love. I missed you," she confessed, her fingers brushing against your side.

"I miss you too," you whispered. "More than I can say. I feel like we’re spending no time together at the moment.”

Leah's lips curved into a half-smile. "Maybe it’s time we do something about it," she suggested. “You’re burning yourself out, love.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You’d never expected Leah to say it out loud. You’d been dancing around your feelings for months. You knew deep down Leah was right and maybe it was time to do something about it.

You’d been a nurse for four years now and things were getting too much, you didn’t enjoy your job as much anymore. It was time for you to do something else.

Leah let go of you and walked over to the oven, she turned it off before coming back over and picking you up. As she lifted you effortlessly, you clung to her, your heart racing. The warmth of her body pressed against yours, you buried your face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her familiar scent—a mix of vanilla and other scents.

"Where are we going?" you asked, your voice muffled against her skin.

"To the couch," Leah replied softly. "We need to talk. Jonas has let me skip training today, I explained what’s happening, so don’t worry.”

She carried you across the small kitchen and settled you down on the worn-out cushions. The morning light streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on Leah's face. Her expression was serious, yet there was tenderness in her eyes.

"Love," she began, sitting beside you, "I've watched you pour your heart and soul into your work. You're an incredible nurse, but you're drowning. The long hours, the emotional toll, it’s taking a toll on you."

You nodded, tears threatening to spill. Leah understood you better than anyone. She'd been there during your late-night shifts, holding you when you came home exhausted, listening to your stories of life and death in the ER.

"I can't keep doing this," you admitted. "I need a change."

Leah's fingers traced patterns on your thigh. "What do you want, then? What would make you happy?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with possibility. You thought about the dreams you'd buried—the baking classes you'd abandoned, the travel plans postponed indefinitely. The desire to create, explore, and live beyond the hospital walls.

"I don’t know," you shrugged as Leah drew patterns on your knee, “I just want to be with you. I want us to go back to how we were.”

Leah's smile was soft and understanding. "You loved to bake when I met you, your cookies were out of this world.”

A soft laugh escaped past your lips, “I always dreamed of owning a bakery like my Nanna.

Growing up your Nanna Olive owned her very own bakery, it was called Olive’s Bakery and you used to spend your weekend there up until the age of sixteen. She passed a few months after you turned sixteen and even though you begged your parents to keep the bakery, they sold it. Your heart broke and since then your baking slowly stopped.

“You should open a bakery," She leaned in, brushing her lips against yours. "I’ll help you and I’m sure Beth, Viv, Katie, Jen and the other girls will too."

Her kiss was a promise—a promise of change, of love, of a future beyond the ER. And as you melted into her, you knew that this was the beginning of something beautiful.

You nodded, a smile written over your face now replacing the frown, “Owning a bakery would be better for when we start our own family.”

Leah giggled, “It would be,” she agreed, “wouldn’t have to worry about you and our baby all night long.”

“You’re such a stress-head, Mrs Williamson.” You laughed, cupping Leah’s face and pulling her closer to you.

She pecked your lips, “Can’t help it that I’m so in love with my wife, Mrs Williamson. Now let’s get you to bed, get you some rest.”

You didn’t protest when Leah scooped you up from the couch and carried you into your bedroom, instead you melted into her arms and let her take care of you. You let her pull back the sheets and tuck you in before crawling into bed beside you.

Just over a year later you were living your dream. A few days after that conversation with Leah you handed in your two week notice and left nursing behind you for good. After that you took a few months off and spent some well needed time with Leah and your families, you began to find yourself again.

You began the starting process to open your own bakery after you and Leah returned from your trip to Rome to celebrate your seven year anniversary together, one that wasn’t spent working for the first time in over four years. You viewed a couple buildings with Leah but nothing felt right until one night you were laid in bed and made a discovery.

“Leah!” You screamed, despite the blonde being sat beside you.

Leah jumped out of her own skin, “Jesus woman!” She laughed, “No need to shout, love. What's wrong?”

“I can’t believe this!” You grinned, staring down at your phone, “Nanna Olive’s old bakery building has come up for sale and I’ve just been asked if I want to buy it!”

Happy tears formed in your eyes as you flipped your phone round to Leah’s view, “This is literally perfect, Le!”

Leah leaned over and kissed you lips before wrapping her arm around your stomach, “Love that’s amazing! Are you going to buy it?”

You nodded, “Yeah I am, it’s fate.”

You placed an offer and less than 24 hours later it was accepted, you cried your eyes out when you found out. A week later you’d already started renovating the building, you tried your hardest to get it as close as possible to what it was like when you were a teenager with the help of Leah and the Arsenal girls.

Two months later and the bakery was finished, it looked and felt exactly like it did when you were sixteen despite it being ten years later. You began to figure out recipes and after many failed attempts you finally sorted a menu out, most of the baked goods came from the book of recipes your Nanna Olive had passed down from to you.

A month later and it was opening day. Opening day was a nerve racking experience for you, you just wanted to make everyone proud and you did just that. Leah and all of the Arsenal girls turned up for your opening day as well as all of your family and friends. Customers hurried in and out and six months later you were the go to bakery in town.

As you began to close down the bakery for the evening, the bell chimed above the door. You stopped wiping the counters and turned around to see Leah standing there. She had her football bag in her hand and a soft smile written over her face.

You rounded the counter and walked over to Leah, putting your arms around her neck. You brought her in for a kiss, “Hi my love, how was training?”

“It was good,” she pecked your lips as her hands trailed down your hips before finding your bump. “How are my girls?”

You were currently twenty three weeks pregnant with Leah and yours first child. A daughter to be precise.

“Our girl is doing just fine,” you whispered, your voice filled with love and anticipation. “She’s strong, hasn’t stopped kicking all day, reckon she’s going to be a footballer just like her Mumma.”

She chuckled, her breath warm against your cheek. “I can’t wait to meet her,” Leah smiled as she felt your daughter kick against her hand. “God, they are strong kicks!”

With the help of Leah, you finished closing down the bakery. You both ended up snacking on some leftover cookies and lemonade before making your way home.

As you laid in bed that night, Leah’s arms wrapped around you, she kissed your forehead, “I’m so proud of you y’know? What you’ve done over the past year is amazing.”

You smiled at her, “Thank you, love. I couldn’t have done it without you and everyone around us. If it wasn’t for that night I'd probably be stuck nursing still.”

And there, in the quiet darkness, you both drifted off to sleep. You fell asleep in Leah’s arms, something a year ago you would’ve yearned for all night long. Now you didn’t need to because you had the life you’d always dreamed of.

[corvidcrossbow]

It's late when I'm writing this and I'm sleepy and I'm (again) thinking about Daryl falling asleep during sex.

Not in a mean way; say like he comes home from a run pretty late in the evening or night, you get him some food then help him through a shower and maybe a massage that ends in both your clothes gone and missionary.

Your bodies are about as intertwined as they could be; your legs hooked behind his back, arms around his neck and shoulders, his arms curled around your torso and head buried into your chest and crook of your neck.

He keeps murmuring about how much he missed you, how warm you feel, how good you smell, how soft your skin is; just how much he loves you. His thrusts are slow, almost lazy, kisses accompanying his words of admiration.

He's purring again, completely lost in you, melting into the feeling of your body beneath his cause it's the most comfortable thing to ever exist. His body's on autopilot to maintain his movements, but eventually his brain drifts a little too far to keep it up and he just falls asleep in your hold.

You whisper his name just once to check his consciousness, confirming that he's gone, then smile to yourself and resist your chuckle as to not rouse him. You brush hair back from his face, tenderly tucking it behind his ear with sweet little goodnights and a kiss to his forehead; to which he subconsciously cuddles closer to you. You watch him for a little, then fall asleep yourself.

Daryl groggily wakes up a couple hours later (he practically never sleeps more than a few hours without waking up), disoriented from drifting off mid action. Awareness trickles back to him, remembering what he was doing, only now pulling out of you and shuffling to the space in bed beside you, accidentally waking you in the process.

He tries to get you to go back to sleep, but is a little distant which just wakes you more. Truth is; he's embarrassed. In his perspective – from things he's heard and been told – falling asleep during sex is not only bad, but insulting: essentially saying you're disinterested and find it so boring you snooze.

Of course you catch onto this without him even needing to say it, but still persuade him to explain it himself since it's part of working with him on getting better at freely expressing his feelings and being honest. He keeps apologizing, saying he didn’t mean it like that at all and he was just really beat from the run; if you wanted to restart right now he's willing (he definitely feels like he disappointed you and assumes you're upset with him) (again that stems from preconceptions, not actually you)

So you shift up against him, wrapping him back in your arms and saying you understand he was really tired, and that's okay. He didn't hurt your feelings at all. In fact, you love that; the fact he fell asleep – that he felt so safe and comfortable with you, even during such a vulnerable thing, that he fell asleep.

He's confused. I mean… you were having sex, and seemed to be enjoying it, then his exhaustion essentially ‘ruined’ the moment, and your pleasure (this was early on enough in your relationship that he's still wrapping his mind around the fact you're in love with him, and not the sex – you love that too obviously, but that's not why you're with him. He struggles a lot with seeing relationships as 50/50, rather more 75/25, or 90/10 even, where he's most of the weight. It all stems from his upbringing and experiences, and feels he has a debt to be constantly repaying you simply because you're claiming you love him – he just feels like if he's not meeting expectations he set, he's not good enough, and if he's ‘fumbling’ in something as crucial as sex that's a major problem) (I gotta stop that here or ima get off track)

But anyway, you continue to correct and reassure him, running fingers through the roots of his hair, holding him to you and periodically peppering kisses to his head, temple, jawline and such while you speak, lulling him to rest again.

It takes him a little while to accept that what you say is true, as do most things you reassure him about. A lot of the earlier chunk of your relationship was spent undoing the intricate knots of negative thinking patterns and thoughts that wove into his mind throughout his life – all this being one of them.

He comes to accept it eventually, along with other things, and can now just cuddle up with you in intimate positions, but not actually having sex, and fall asleep in each other's embrace.

Yes your Honor, I am guilty of loving non-sexual cockwarming where you just stay like that to feel connected 😔🤞

(I swear I will post a req fic soon I needa lock in 🗿)

[sweetnans]

I'm Still Your Boy

Pairing: f.reader/bakugo katsuki. tw: mention of break up, mention of violence but not described because bakugo isn't a bad boy, soft and persistent bakugo. a/n: a three part sequence between you and this boy who's sorry about letting you go.

You've been gone for a year. Bakugo tried to stay focused on his career and succeeded. He was the number one hero, after all. But you, you never left his mind.

He knows that he made a mistake. He scared the shit out of you the last time he saw you when you decided that the best for the both of you was leaving. And you did.

You made a career in another country, live the life that you never had the chance to live because of him. You were his best friend since you were kids, and then with the hormones, the changes, and the lack of reasoning, you became his girlfriend and that lasted for a few years, stealing all of your firsts.

You didn't blame him at all for taking away all the things that you loved because he was above them. And you didn't mind at all. He started his hero career after UA, trying in agencies, and after a couple of them, he made his own. You were happy for him. You wanted him to find the things that passionate him. But in the process, you lost yourself.

It happened one night, he was exhausted and the two of you started a fight. You said things that you regretted right after, and he became violent, not at you, but at everything that you made together. He had anger issues when you met him, but he never showed them when he was with you. That night, he was tired, and you were emotionally unstable because you had realized days prior that you were stuck and you didn't want your life to be someone's ornament.

So you left him and didn't look back.

Until today.

He knew from the moment that you gave your friends in common the news of you getting back to the landing of your plane. Kirishima wasn't so subtle when he was excited, and neither was Mina. They missed you too.

He has been pacing all day in his office thinking what he could do and how he could approach you without being so flagrant about it. He just needed to grow a pair and make a decision fast. He wanted you back, but he knew that it wouldn't be that easy. He knew that he fucked everything up, but never did anything to compensate his mistakes. He never called.

He, in fact, made a reckless decision that led him to the frontis of your house on a rainy night. The light on the first floor was lit, and he could see the shape of your figure through the blinds.

He could knock and sink in the ground when he sees you again.

You were in your kitchen, rearranging the food in the fridge that you bought earlier that day. You've made the cleaning and your laundry, so you were almost done for the day. The only task lingering in your list was putting the food in the fridge and in the pantry. You also bought some fast food to gain time. Once you were done, you'll go upstairs, cast some netflix, and enjoy it while eating french fries and a huge burger.

You were delusional. You didn't know what was coming.

A noise at the door startled you, making you drop the grapes in the kitchen counter. You could feel the presence of someone else in the house but when you turned around you didn't expect to be him.

"Bakugo," you said, looking at him half disconcerted and half scared.

Not by him, only by the fact that he was inside your house.

"Jeez, still hurts when you call me like that," he tried to dismiss the hurt in his voice by laughing a little. A sad laugh.

"How did you-"

You wanted to know a lot of things. How and why mostly.

"I taught you better than hide your spare key under the mat"

Yeah, that one was totally on you.

"I'll leave it in the flower pot next time." You tried to joke, but the atmosphere wasn't giving.

"And I taught you better than to eat that crap," he said, glancing at your food.

You tried to look offended, but he was right. The truth was that you never got the need to learn how to cook because he did the job just fine, and when he made up his mind about teaching you one thing or two about cooking, you were just used to his food so you never tried to even lit up the stove. When you left, you thanked Bakugo in your mind for teaching you how to cook, but it was a painful thing to do every day. You missed the bastard and hated him for getting you so used to him.

"It's late, what are you doing here?" You said grabbing your kitchen table to feel stable in your feet.

You thought about this moment. A thousand times, but you never imagined to be living it actually.

"I-" he stuttered. It wasn't easy for him either. "I wanted to see you"

"You better have an excuse better than that. You are dripping all over my floor, and I just moped it"

He looked at his boots. You were right. The rain was heavy outside, and he thought about knocking for about thirty minutes before he came with the great idea to home invade you.

"You're right," he said, determined to end his suffer and lift the permanent rock off his chest. "I missed you a lot. I was a fucking douchebag with you before you left. I know that you have made up your mind, but I made it worse. You could've left with me, I should have supported you like you did with me when I started this, " he pointed at his suit. "I was a shitty excuse of a boyfriend when you were everything to me" he sighed. His eyes started to get glossy before he noticed, yours as well.

You dreamed for the firsts months when you were outside the country that Bakugo would show up at your apartment and tell you that he fucked up and how much he missed having you around. You wanted this to happen, but right now, you could feel the turmoil in your head. You didn't know if him saying sorry after a year would change anything.

"I can't go back to what I made you feel, and I know that I fucked everything that we had, including our friendship, but I wouldn't be here if I wasn't sure that you are what I want and that I can make things right again, after all this time" he said after a long silence filled with your sobs.

Your silence made him uncomfortable. In a way that he, for the first time, felt scared. Scared of losing you forever.

"I-" you grabbed your head with your hands while he made his way to you, crossing the kitchen and closing the distance to put one of his fingers under your chin.

You lifted your head to look at him. Everything was happening in those crimson eyes. Every emotion, sadness, fear, expectation, and the most important of all, hope.

"I can't be without you," He needed you. He needed to be yours.

You weren't sure. You were scared, too. You didn't want to get hurt again.

You grabbed his hand, joining his fingers with yours. And made your decision.

"I'm sorry"

He felt his heart sink. It was a possibility, but in his mind, you've missed him the same that he missed you.

He wasn't a man that would accept a no from anyone, but with you, it was different. He told you everything that he needed to tell you, he exposed his heart to you and he was convinced that everything he was feeling, you felt it too.

It wasn't a rotund, no.

That night, after he discarded his damp clothes and laid in bed looking at the ceiling, he remembered the first time that he knew that he had feelings for you. He gave you a shitty speech about his feelings. He was only seventeen, and he was rough, didn't have any tact to tell people mundane things, much less speaking about his feelings. He remembered your face, pretty disconcerted at the beginning, but in the end, you were trying to contain your tears from falling. That time, he didn't tease you for crying. He remembered what cracked you up, the last part of his speech of how much he wanted to be with you.

"Brat, I know nothing about love, but I better be yours."

Part 2

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[honeekyuu]

it's my birthday, so here's a gift: a sizeable chunk of genius chapter 3 :)))

it's not done, but it's the second half that's more interesting, anyway, so please enjoy the first bit of it!

warning: spoilers ahead >:)

_____________________________

When you come to, you’re completely slumped over Akaashi, your head buried in the crook of his neck and his arms hanging loosely around you. He’s breathing hard, jostling you where you lie flat on top of him.

“Shit,” he breathes, lifting one hand to his hair and curling his fingers into the locks. You make a small noise, one that’s neither awake nor asleep, and he taps his other hand on your back lightly. “You good?”

You nod groggily and try to lift onto your hands. Your arms shake, so you adjust, but the motion has you both flinching, because Akaashi’s still inside of you. “Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, oversensitive, and he drops both hands to your hips, breathing out shakily while he lifts you off of him. You start to fall sideways onto the bed, but he catches you, throwing his body toward yours and catching you so that you don’t hit the mattress too hard.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he says, a furrow in his brow when you glance up at him. “I put you through a lot.”

“Yeah, you tend to,” you joke weakly, your head lolling to the side as he sits up. You both sigh hard, Akaashi barely managing to crawl to the end of the bed for your phone and both sets of underwear before he returns to his spot. “Thanks,” you mumble when he hands everything to you, and, as you’re sliding your panties on (and ditching the bra, because you can’t be bothered right now), you look down at the sheets. “The bed’s dirty.”

“Don’t care. Need a nap.” He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, groaning. You curl up on your side next to him, your eyes heavy and your muscles aching. A nap sounds glorious.

Before you can drift off, however, his words are ringing through your head.

‘You know me better than that.’

Your eyes crack open, and you stare at the side of his face. His head is bobbing slightly as he starts to fall asleep, eyes flickering open and shut, and you feel distantly bad for interrupting.

“You’re really not doing it on purpose? Any of it?” you whisper, half-hoping it doesn’t wake him at all.

His eyelids flutter, and he turns his head groggily to meet your gaze. When he sees you looking, he turns onto his side, achingly slow, until he’s facing you, too. And then he shakes his head, the exhaustion clear in his every move.

“Not at all,” he whispers back, surprisingly open with you in his tired state. “Are you?”

You frown slightly, confused. “What could I be doing on purpose?”

His eyes slide shut for a moment. “Everything.” 

You get the feeling that what he’s just admitted is bigger than what you have the space to process right now. So you just shake your head, too, and echo his words back. “Not at all.” 

“Okay,” he breathes, after a pause that’s so long that you’d wondered if he’d fallen asleep. “That’s settled, then.”

“I don’t think anything’s settled.” You could probably stop whispering, but the world outside is starting to grow dark, taking this room with it, and the only light in the house comes from the kitchen, so far away from the space between you and Akaashi. And his pinky is brushing up against yours, twitching as he falls asleep, but he’s reaching sleepily for it anyway, hooking your fingers together just before his breath evens out. You’re not sure that he realizes he’s done it.

You want to let him sleep – you want to sleep. But you need his answer. So you squeeze your pinky against his once, and his brows twitch as he wakes again. He hums softly, marking his attention.

“What do we do?” you ask, your words as vague and unclear as your head feels. He swallows, unknowingly shifting marginally closer to you. 

“Told you,” he breathes, a little slurred. “Not doing it on purpose. Jus’ happens.” He lets out a tired sigh and shifts again. “Everything jus’ happens…” 

“So, what d’we do?” you say again, eyes flitting all over his face for an answer.

“Nothin’,” he says, shaking his head slightly. “Nothin’ to do but let it happen.”

You stare at him so long that he falls asleep again, his head tilted toward yours. You wonder if you can do that – just let it happen. Whatever that means – whatever it is. You wonder if you can just give in to Akaashi Keiji like that.

‘You know me better than that.’

You suppose that’s alright. Because he’s giving in, too.

When you finally drift off to sleep, it’s with your forehead pressed against his and his finger curled around yours.

–

Keiji flies up in a tangle of limbs and a gasp that wakes you. 

“Shit-” His eyes fly to the window, seeing that dawn’s well past come. You groan, still curled up on your side, and his head whips around to the bedside table, his phone snatched up in an instant. 

It’s almost 7am.

“Fucking shit-” He rolls out of bed, missing his footing and tumbling right off of it. He hits the floor in a pile of his own body, groaning and shaking it off as best as he can, and you sit up quickly, caught off guard by his crash landing.

“Akaashi-”

“Shit, fuck-” He trips over his own feet, still half-asleep, and tries to locate his clothes. “It’s almost 7. I have to get home and shower and get my shit. I have to teach at 9.” He snatches his shirt off the floor and pulls it on, letting out a frustrated groan when he realizes it’s on backwards.

“Take an Uber. I’ll pay for it,” you try, but he just shakes his head, rushing to twist the shirt around.

“Need my bike later–wait.” He looks at you, in his boxers and his half-on shirt and his crooked glasses. You stare back, in your underwear and your bedhead and a pillow pressed to your chest in order to hide your body from him in this new daylight. “We only filmed one thing.”

Your eyes go wide, and you’re breathing ‘fuck’ as you stare up at him. He looks around the room, blinking hard. “What do we do?” he asks, still standing there like an idiot.

“I’m free tonight if you want to come back,” you offer. He nods – he thinks he’s free, too.

“Yeah, that works.”

“Okay, then take an Uber home, since you’re just coming back,” you push again. “And leave your shit here.”

“Okay,” he sighs, searching for his jeans. “That’s fine.”

He finds them on the other side of the bed, entirely unsure how they’d gotten there, and starts to hop into them. There’s a moment of silence, one where he goes through the mental list of his things – wallet, keys, phone – before you’re speaking.

“Akaashi.”

“Hm?” he hums, taking one last hop to get his jeans up to where they need to be before he’s wrestling with the zipper.

“You said last night that there’s nothing we can do except let things happen.” Keiji pauses with his fingers on his zipper, back turned to you and eyes flicking down at nothing while he thinks. Had he said that? “Did you mean that?” you ask quietly.

He tugs his zipper up and does the button, blinking rapidly. His ears start to warm with some unknown embarrassment. “I suppose I did.”

“So… are we just gonna…” You don’t finish the question, but he hears it, anyway, and his heart flips in his chest. 

Are we just gonna keep doing this? Whatever we want?

He glances over his shoulder at you, turning slightly while he tightens his belt around his hips. “What is it, huh?” he asks, a soft smirk lifting on his lips. “You attracted to me, Freak?”

You scowl, but he sees the interest in your eyes. It’s the same interest that plucks at his nerves now, as he’s doing up his belt and staring down at you where you sit, naked in the bed that he’s fucked you in twice this week.

“I think you know the answer to that,” you bite, but it’s lacking its usual edge. You’re nervous. 

He doesn’t have it in him right now to fuck with you, because he’s nervous, too. “Yeah. I do.” He scoops up his phone and runs his fingers through his hair. “Okay, I have all my shit, I think.”

You tap quickly on your phone with an uncertain nod. “Okay,” you say after a moment. “Uber will be here in two minutes.”

He nods, rushing to the door. “Thanks,” he breathes, and then he stops himself with a hand on the door frame. He shouldn’t leave like this. 

Backing slowly into the room again and eyeing you where you sit, he sighs. “Freak.”

You look up from your phone, frowning. “Is that just gonna be your new name for me-”

“I’m attracted to you, too.”

Your mouth drops open, and his splits in a smug grin that hides how terrifying it had been to admit that. 

“But you probably figured that out, didn’t you?” he asks quietly. When you just swallow and nod shallowly, he nods back. “So, yes. We’re ‘just gonna’.” He quotes your unfinished question and offers no ending. The rest of it sits between you, the silence empty and full at the same time.

You let out a long breath after a moment. “Okay,” you whisper. 

The sound of it – of your agreement to the unsaid proposal he’d just made – makes his fingertips go numb.

“Okay,” he breathes back. “I’m gonna go.”

“Okay.”

As he sits in the back of the Uber, Keiji tries to remember what he’s in such a rush for.

–

The time between October 25th and November 11th passes in a blur.

You and Akaashi find a flow, one that’s surprisingly easy. He comes over twice a week, as planned, and the world around you – outside of you – reduces to nothing but the things that happen inside the walls of your apartment. You both leave everything behind and enter into the suspended disbelief that carries you through this arrangement. 

He bends you over every surface in the spare bedroom and forces you to forget who you are, not that that’s hard with the way he handles you. You talk back as often as you can, because the way his eyes light up when you do tells you he likes the challenge. That no one challenges him quite like you. You bump heads throughout the day, over and over again, only to fall into each other at night in a way that’s wonderfully in sync – two pieces of different puzzles that fit together as though they’d been made that way. 

You start to think after a while that every argument you find yourself in with Akaashi Keiji only serves to make this thing between you stronger when you’re alone. Because on the days that your tension is particularly bad, you find it that much easier to give in to him. On the days when you’re particularly combative, he’s that much more eager to mold you into what he wants. Easy, like putty under his fingertips, you give for him – and he gives right back, just like he’d promised.

He still won’t let you touch him, not in the way that you want. After two weeks, he still won’t let you show him how to get out of his own head. He spanks you, ties you up, bends you in ways no one ever has before and makes you do things that would be completely humiliating if not for the fact that it’s him making you do them. You know that – you’re aware enough to know that it’s because it’s him.

The it’s always been because it’s him.

So even if he won’t let you do the one thing you keep asking for – tears in your eyes, a pout on your lips, anything that might make him give in to you – you can’t find it in you to be too upset. Because a deal is a deal, and Akaashi Keiji’s good for his word. And in return for giving him what he wants, he fucks you in your favorite position, once and then twice more in the same night, because you’re just that good at listening.

You listen to him, no matter the request, and he makes it worth your while without fail.

It bleeds into your everyday life without either of you realizing it. 

Not the sex – never the sex. But things are different now. That suspended disbelief reaches, aching and stretching, into the corners of your days, touching the tension between you and then slipping away before you have a chance to recognize that things are changing.

Akaashi sits in the back of the LEM meetings now, where no one can see him. He lets other people take the round table, slipping in at the last second and taking a seat against the wall instead of coming five minutes early like he always does. He does it on purpose – you know he does, because he makes two choices. 

The first is that – on days when you don’t present – he sits right behind you and taps his foot ever so lightly on one of your chair legs, just to remind you he’s there. And when you inevitably inch forward, he’s quick to adjust, because the universe had cursed him with long legs and he’s more than willing to use them. If you grow annoyed enough to turn and glare at him, you’re always unlucky enough to catch the smirk tugging at his lips and the heated look in his eye, because he gets off on you snapping at him. 

You both know that now, and he’s not ashamed to admit it, anymore. Not to you.

The second – much, much worse – comes on the days that you do present. Because you’re forced to speak to a group of your peers and advisor for twenty minutes straight. Twenty minutes where Akaashi Keiji sits in the back of the room and undresses you with his eyes. His long, dark eyelashes flutter as his gaze travels across your body, and his bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth without hesitation. His head tilts this way and that, giving him the angles he needs to ogle you. 

A few seconds on the hem of your skirt, giving way to thighs that, when pressed together like that, hide the marks he’d left only the night before. A few seconds on your throat, because, if he strains his eyes enough, he can see the traces of himself there, purple and slathered in concealer. A few seconds on the buttons of your blouse, the same buttons you’d had to sew back into your shirt because he’d accidentally ripped them off in his rush to undress you last week. 

But maybe that’s your fault for wearing one of your roleplay blouses to campus that day. Maybe you’d done it on purpose. Maybe, over the last two weeks, you’d come to anticipate the shiver of nerves that would run down your spine when your day to present would come back around. Maybe you’d started to look forward to the way he would inevitably grill you with questions after spending twenty minutes flustering you, because – as you’d come to learn – Akaashi Keiji’s preferred form of foreplay had always been psychological.

Maybe that’s what you get for choosing him.

Maybe that’s why you’d choose him again in a heartbeat.

It takes too long to notice that other people are starting to see it, too. That, when Bokuto digs through your fridge and holds up a container of kung pao chicken in confusion, your stuttered excuse of having Akaashi over to grade exams together hadn’t passed over with Kuroo as well as you’d hoped. That, when Akaashi beckons you away from lunch to go to Syntax lecture together, Tsukishima’s eyes follow you out of the dining hall, watching you two walk closer together than usual. That, at Bokuto’s parties, Yachi had started to realize that Akaashi was careful with her personal space on that couch, but not yours.

It takes too long to notice those things, for both of you. Because you’re both too busy noticing each other.

At night, Akaashi doesn’t text you anymore. He just logs on to xxxvids .com and pings you, no matter how many times you tell him to stop being weird. He pings you there and takes up most of the time you could be spending responding to other messages, talking about absurdly normal things like grading and dissertation progress. It adds to the suspended disbelief, and you think that maybe you both know it. He always drops a five-star review at the end, and, after a week of it, he starts gifting you the in-chat badges and stickers that cost money. He sends them without hesitation, the money adding up so quickly that you start to threaten to block him. 

‘You won’t block me,’ he always messages back. ‘You like my attention too much.’

You hate how well he knows you.

So you start to text him your solo videos before you post them. Because you know him, too. Because you know that all you have to do is attach a cheeky message – ‘since you liked it so much the first time ;)’ – before he comes running, your phone ringing angrily every time.

‘You better cut it out,’ he always says. 

‘What’re you gonna do, punish me?’, you say. Because you know that he will.

You know that Akaashi will always give you what you want, no matter how far you push his limits outside of the bedroom. Because as long as you give him what he needs when it matters, he’ll do just the same.

That understanding becomes real in ways you hadn’t predicted, much too soon.

–

Keiji tugs on the collar of his turtleneck in annoyance, the fabric rubbing against his skin in a way that irritates him. He passes through the mass of people in the dining hall, grimacing when his shirt sticks to his skin, the heat a bit unbearable.

It’s still too warm out to be wearing something so clearly meant for winter, but he’d been in a rush this morning, and he hadn’t had time to cover up the hickies you’d left on him two nights ago. He’d cursed you and your family line when he’d spotted the marks in the mirror, because he certainly did not have time to cover them up with the concealer you’d bought him. He’d picked out the first high-neck item he could find in his closet, which just so happened to be this awful wool sweater that’s heavenly in the cold and absolute hell any other time.

You’re already at the table with Bokuto when he finds you, and he sees your eyes drop to his neck. Your eyebrows go up with interest, and you’re hiding a smirk, because you know exactly why he would ever have chosen such a bad outfit for today’s weather. He sits with a sigh, his loudly clattering tray one of the many micro-decisions he’s making to let out his irritation today.

“Hi, Bokuto,” he says quietly, only acknowledging you with a nod of his head. You nod back, seeing when he rolls his eyes subtly at you. It makes you smile, so you turn it on Bokuto, because that’s more natural than smiling at Keiji.

“Kou, have you heard back from the Expo?” you ask, giving the larger man all your attention. Keiji’s eye twitches slightly, and he digs into his lunch, trying not to let you see. But he knows you have, because you always do. 

Sometime in the last two weeks, you’d picked up on the way his shoulders tense when you talk to Bokuto, on the way his jaw clenches and unclenches when you touch him. On the way he’s just that much meaner in bed afterward.

He’s not stupid enough to believe he’s not a little bit possessive. He’d felt it enough times over the last few days. 

It always starts with an annoyance that strums in his veins when his best friend hugs you – because there’s a heat map on your body that only Keiji can see, one that shows him all the places he’d put his hands the last time he’d fucked you. And he has to sit there and watch Bokuto’s hands cover it all up. 

It’s worse when Bokuto lingers, friendly and unassuming, in your personal space, because Keiji knows you won’t smell like you afterward. He always tenses when it’s not your perfume in his nose when you pass him by. His mind goes blank when it’s Bokuto’s cologne instead, stronger than his own and not at all suited to your skin.

It always leaves him feeling like a fucking dog, overcome with some strange urge to pull you close – in public or otherwise – and drown you in things that smell like him. His cologne, his shirts, his coat, he doesn’t fucking care. It irritates him. And you’d noticed.

Of course you’d noticed – because you’re annoying like that. You’re annoying enough to feed into it, giving Bokuto extra smiles and extra sweetness when Keiji’s around, because you know that, the next time you’re alone with him, Keiji will make you cry and beg for forgiveness.

And it doesn’t matter how many times he reminds himself that it’s not his business to be jealous. It’s not his business to be possessive, because there’s nothing for him to be possessive about. You’re not his. 

But you lean into it. So he does, too.

You lean into it now, touching your fingers down on Bokuto’s arm when you ask him about the conference. It starts on Friday, and the results still aren’t out yet. It’s concerning, enough that it’s made everyone more high-strung than usual – conference results coming out with less than a week for speakers to prepare is unheard of.

But Keiji’s not thinking about that. He’s thinking about the fingers you have on Bokuto’s wrist, wondering if you remember that, two nights ago, you had those fingers wrapped around his-

“No, I haven’t!” Bokuto exclaims, snapping Keiji out of his growing frustration. “It’s so weird and annoying! Have you?”

You shake your head, pouting slightly, and Keiji’s rice spoon shakes in his clenched fist. He’s really not in the space to do this today.

“We haven’t, no. Our advisor’s starting to get a little pissed,” you say in faux contemplation. You press one fingertip to your bottom lip and tap thoughtfully a few times. Keiji wonders if it’d be okay for him to throw himself across this table and tackle you.

When your eyes slide to his, catty and challenging, he loses his mind.

Dropping his spoon in the metal bowl with a jarring clang, he leans back, sighing performatively. “God, I think I chose the wrong outfit for today.”

Bokuto looks him over, nodding enthusiastically, but Keiji keeps his eyes locked on yours. You know to be wary of him, at least – your eyes narrow, and his even out, your challenge accepted.

“Yeah, dude, you really did. It’s way too hot to-” Bokuto goes quiet, staring. His eyes are locked on the place where Keiji has a finger hooked into his collar and is tugging it down, presumably to air out his warm neck.

His warm neck, where there are some rather you-shaped love bites marking his skin.

Your face drops, mouth hanging open and eyes wide as you stare at him. Keiji doesn’t react, because Bokuto’s looking at him, not you, but he does turn his gaze on his friend and tug on the collar a few more times with a relieved sigh.

“So hot in here. I made a mistake.”

“Dude.” Bokuto stares, open-mouthed, and then reaches for him, yanking the collar all the way down and exposing Keiji’s hickies completely. “Have you been sleeping with someone?!”

Keiji stares you dead in the eyes when he says–

“Just someone from my department.” He watches your gaze turn deadly, and he smiles politely at the glare you shoot him, turning back to his friend. “I don’t think you’d know her. It’s really casual.”

Bokuto immediately turns to you, and you fix your expression with impressive speed.

“Do you know who it is?” he asks excitedly, practically vibrating in his seat. “Y/n, please tell me you know who it is. Please, please, please-”

“Uh-” you stutter, laughing nervously and shaking your head. “Our department’s pretty big, Kou. And I’m not really in the habit of getting in Akaashi’s business.” 

It’s a solid save, Keiji will give you that. But he can’t help but smirk, because he can tell you’re not going to be letting this one go any time soon.

“Um, but-” He plasters an embarrassed grin on his face, nudging Bokuto in a way that’s meant to be sheepish. “We’re keeping it kinda quiet, okay? So don’t tell anyone?”

The man’s eyes go wide, and he’s nodding very solemnly. “Yeah, I totally get it. I won’t say anything!”

Your chair screeches when you push it back, standing to full height. Keiji watches you with disinterest.

“I just remembered,” you say through gritted teeth. “We were supposed to go over that handout before lecture. Should we go?”

Keiji just lifts his brows and looks down at his lunch. “I’m still eating.”

Your nostrils flare, and a rush of excitement flies down his spine. Picking up your bag, you smile sweetly down at Bokuto. “Sorry, Kou. Let’s get dinner tonight?”

Keiji can’t wait to get you alone.

He and Bokuto watch you go, Bokuto waving and yelling ‘see you tonight!’ across the crowded room. Keiji eats his meal silently, watching when Kuroo, Tsukishima, and Yachi break through the mass of bodies and make their way over to the table. The two men are stealing glances at each other as they walk, but Keiji’s learned that if he minds his own business, then Tsukishima tends to do the same.

And it’s important to him that Tsukishima does the same.

“Was that Y/n we just saw?” Kuroo asks as he sets his tray down. Bokuto nods bouncily.

“She said something about a handout that she and Akaashi need to go over.” He looks down at Keiji, who’s stuffing his mouth full of food at record speed. “Shouldn’t you go with her?”

Keiji nods, cheeks stretched to their limits as he tries to swallow it all. “Mhm,” he says, grimacing as the food goes down and then shoveling more in. He picks up his bag as he’s still eating, swinging it over his shoulder and snatching his tray up. “Gotta go-” He chokes a bit, barely recovering as he’s waving goodbye over his shoulder. He feels Tsukishima’s eyes on him for only a moment before the sensation passes, and he’s grateful he and the blond have come to a silent agreement.

He makes a beeline for the door, all but bursting out in a run as soon as he hits the sidewalk. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he yanks it out, heart pounding at the thought that it’s you.

[2:38PM]

Bokuto: DONT WORRY AKAAAASHI!!! 

Bokuto: I WONT TELL ANYONE ABOUT YOUR SECRET SITUATIONSHIP!!!

Keiji laughs to himself, pocketing the phone again as he heads straight for the Linguistics building. 

He only makes it to the corner before he’s being dragged around the side of the dining hall and slammed against the brick wall.

“You asshole-”

He closes his eyes and laughs, your voice washing over him in a giddy wave. “This doesn’t look much like a Syntax handout-” 

“You told him.” You lean in close, and he meets your eyes with ease, the grin tugging at his lips satisfied.

“No, I didn’t,” he says. “I told him I’m fucking a girl in my department. It could be anyone.”

“He’s gonna figure out it’s me-”

Keiji takes your face in his hand, squeezing tight and pulling you close, not unlike the way he’d done it in the stairwell two weeks ago. There’s something about the way you’d said it – like you really don’t want Bokuto Koutarou to find out you’re hooking up with him – that makes him angry. Irrationally so, because it’s not his place to be angry at all. But still, he grabs you. He grabs you, and then he turns you around, pushing you up against the wall with his body.

“You wanna play with me, Freak?” he mumbles, his voice cold as he stares down at you. “You wanna flirt and touch and smile at him like that when I’m around?” Your eyes are heated, so different from his own, and he wonders if you realize that it turns him on when you look at him like this. He leans down, close enough that he watches your eyes drop to his lips in a slight panic, because everything breath you let out passes through his lungs next. 

He hopes you feel it in yours when he whispers, “Then I’m gonna play with you, too.”

Your gaze hardens on his, but he’d felt the shiver of anticipation that had just wracked your body. It eggs him on, makes him want to do worse.

“If you wanted to fuck Bokuto, you should have asked him instead,” he says, his voice hard. “But you asked me. Not him.”

Your eyes flick between his, and then your gaze clears of its anger. Keiji’s brow furrows.

“You’re jealous,” you whisper, amazement coating your words and sticking to him like honey. He scoffs, shaking his head. 

“I’m not fucking jealous-”

“You’re so fucking jealous, Akaashi-”

“Y/n,” he growls, pushing you up harder against the wall, but you just stare up at him, a wild look in your eye that makes him completely and utterly nervous. “I’m not jealous.”

“Well, you’re something,” you breathe, the smile on your face unable to be stopped, even with the way he’s squeezing your cheeks together. “What’s wrong, huh? Worried I might not just be yours to play with?”

His veins run cold, and there’s a terrifyingly significant part of him that wants to take you right here, just to prove a point. To make you scream right here, in public, so close to the dining hall where anyone – maybe even someone in particular – might pass by and discover you. It makes him crazy.

You make him crazy.

“If you fuck anyone else–” he whispers, cold and hard and laced with a threat. “–then this is over. You hear me, Y/n?”

He thinks you’re going to be angry. He’s saying something completely irrational. He’s being possessive and gross and terrible, and you should be angry with him. It’s not his place – none of this is his place. You can fuck whoever you want to. It was unspoken that there would be no one else, but it was never part of the rules. You should be kicking and screaming and fighting him with everything you’ve got.

But you don’t. 

“I hear you, Akaashi,” you just breathe, staring up at him with wide, twinkling eyes. You look excited, like you’d been waiting to bring this out of him. Like you’d wanted this from him, because there wouldn’t be any other reason that you would–

Keiji blinks, realization filling him. “You… aren’t attracted to Bokuto, are you?”

You grin wide, evil and wicked as you search his eyes. “God, you’re so fucking possessive.”

He wants to crawl into a hole and die.

[sweetyyhippyy]

Forgotten Anniversary. Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader. *FLUFF*

Summary: A few weeks after the birth of their baby girl, Steve's wife forgets an important date.

Word Count: 1k

TW: Talking about birth and labor, being forgetful, crying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a blurry 2 weeks after the birth of their first baby, little Mia Alexandra Harrington.

She was an 8 pound 2 ounce little peanut, born with a lot more hair than anyone had thought.

Mia had come a few weeks earlier than expected. The birthing experience was exhausting, plus some complications during labor caused both of them to stay in the hospital for 5 extra days than they had expected.

Steve had been the most incredible man the entire time. He held his wife's hand and was by her side the entire labor process, feeding her ice chips at her request, fanning her face, kissing her head when she cried from the pain, and praised her the entire time she was pushing, encouraging her to keep going, and not letting her give up when she told him she couldn’t do it.

He had taken the fatherhood role like a champ, doing most of the diaper changes that way she didn’t have to lift. Even in the middle of the night when she was nursing, he got up with both of them, getting her some snacks or water, whatever she wanted or needed. She always had his support, and she was so thankful for it.

Both of them were exhausted between Mia mixing up her days and nights, trying to navigate through the slight colic she had, both of them taking turns trying to soothe her so the other didn’t get too overwhelmed.

Today was a bit of a rough day, Mia was uncomfortable and let everyone know it. Like always, Steve and her took turns trying to relieve the gas in her tummy to make her feel better, but Mia was not having any of it.

She wanted to be held close or to be fed, and if either of them thought about putting her down, she was going to make both of them regret it.

Steve watched as Mia fed from his wife on and off all day, feeling bad that she was in pain from her breasts being so sensitive. Her oversized shirt was covered in spit up and soda that she had spilled on herself during lunch accidentally. But she was far too tired and sore even still to go change.

Steve had run out to go get her some ice cream, a treat that both of them had deserved after today, so it had just left her and their baby girl in the living room watching reruns of The Golden Girls, one of her guilty pleasure shows.

She watched their baby girl next to her on the couch fast asleep and slightly milk drunk. She studied her face, trying to determine if she had her nose or Steve’s (it was most definitely Steve’s), if she had her lips or Steve’s (hers), and who she was going to get her personality from.

From behind the couch she could hear the lock turn, meaning Steve was home. She shifted on the couch, watching him come in with a smile on her face. It wasn’t until he turned around that she saw a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“Stevie, you got me flowers?” She melts inside, beaming at her husband.

Steve rounds the couch, handing her the flowers. “I wanted to do something nice for you today.”

“Aww, aren’t you sweet? I know today has been hard, but I finally got her down when you were gone.”

“Well actually… today is our anniversary.” Steve says awkwardly.

Her eyes grow wide at his words, her heart falling into her stomach at the realization that she had forgotten their wedding anniversary. “Steve, oh my god. Steve, I'm so sorry!”

“No, honey! It’s not your fault. There’s been so much going on the past few weeks, both of us have been in baby land and we’ve barely gotten any sleep.”

Tears start to burn her eyes as she stares at her husband, guilt running through her body. “You still remember our anniversary. I totally spaced it. I feel so awful.” The tears start to roll down her cheeks, quickly trying to wipe them away.

“Honey, it’s okay. I promise I’m not mad or upset that it slipped your mind.” Steve comes next to her on the couch, kissing her forehead and wrapping his arm around her. “You’ve had a lot going on, you spent 8 and a half months growing our daughter in your belly, you spent 19 hours in labor and you had such hard labor. You’ve been crushing it with breast feeding since we’ve been home.”

She looks into her husband’s eyes, guilt still riddled on her face. “I’m so sorry, Stevie.”

Steve softly kisses her lips twice, nudging his nose against hers. “Not to be a total goob, but you kind of did give me the best anniversary present of all. You gave me my first born, that’s a pretty good anniversary present.”

She smiles at his words, resting her forehead against his. “You’re such a goob. I promise I’ll make this up to you.”

“No rush, honey. We have a lot more anniversaries in our future for us to celebrate.”

“I love you so much, Stevie.” She kisses his lips, the sudden cry from their daughter interrupting them.

Steve laughs as he pulls away from his wife. “We also have a lot more intimate moments being interrupted by our children to look forward to.”

“Children? How many more children of yours do you think I’m bearing?” She jokes, grabbing the crying infant and quietly shushing her. “This one tried to kill me.”

Steve puts his hands out, requesting the baby from her. She hands him the baby and her spit up rag, smiling from ear to ear as she watches Steve settle her against his chest.

“You think I was kidding when I said I wanted six?” He raises his eyebrows, laughing to himself as he walks out of the room to go change his daughter.

“Steven Harrington, I already said I was not giving birth six times. You’ve lost your mind.” She slowly gets off the couch, following him to finish scolding him.

“You don’t have to give birth six times, we can always try for twins.” He calls back to her, the grin on his face prominent in his words.

[sorceresssundries]

Dark Desires

A smutty one-shot based on a prompt from this list. I'll tell you the prompt after.

Pairing: Gale x Fem Tav/Durge

Summary: Tav (Durge) is tired of Gale veiling his darker desires and limiting his potential.

Warnings: SMUT. SMUT SMUT SMUT. Dark(er) Gale.

Word Count: 3.1k

The day had not gone well.

They were all tired, bruised, and sweat-soaked from hours of scouring the abandoned adamantine forge. Exhaustion weighed them down and was pressing heavily on already delicate tempers.

They had set up camp in the bowels of the ancient, destroyed temple of Shar. The heat from the lava spluttered below them, the remains of once-worshipped idols now reduced to nothing more than a burning, molten sea. The hisses and pops of the lava echoed out into cavernous depths, its glow casting eerie, dancing shadows on the cracked stone walls, painting the temple crimson and black.

Tav sat outside her tent, head throbbing with a dull, pounding ache, as though her lost memories were closed knuckles trying their best to beat their way to the front of her mind, threatening to burst her skull apart into a white-hot flash of violence. The heat was not helping her mood. It made it tough to think clearly. The stifling warmth clotted the atmosphere, making each breath feel sticky as it was dragged into her lungs. She craved clean air. A clean mind.

“Might I have a word?” Gale’s posture was stiff, his tone formal as he approached her. They were the only two in camp, the others had headed out in search of much needed supplies, and Tav had hoped she would be able to spend a few hours in peace. She had no real desire to speak to him right now. She was tired and aching, the battle earlier had taken a lot out of her. 

They had scraped a win by the skin of their teeth, and only because her magic had bloomed outwards in a rage of fire, lashing whip-cracks of flame in all directions, injuring Lae’zel and Wyll in the process. She hadn't done it intentionally; the power fizzing through her veins sometimes had a mind of its own. That raw, uncontrollable magic combined with the pressing urges that haunted her made for a dangerous mix. It had gotten them out of numerous sticky situations but had also caused significant damage along the way. 

In the moments that followed, where the air still crackled with her magic and danced over her skin, she had locked eyes with Gale, and the desire in his gaze could have pulled a city from the sky. 

He stood before her now and cleared his throat, as though to dislodge his words.

“I once read a book that explained in some detail…”

“I don’t need one of your lessons right now, wizard” she sighed, standing, rubbing her temples with weary, calloused fingers. She glared at him, and noticed his expression shift from awkward to angry. The heat was clearly getting to him too.

“Well, maybe if you applied some basic discipline to that inert, crude magic of yours, sorcerer, we would be less likely to encounter the problems we faced today.” His tone was scolding, condescending. She hated when he spoke to her like this, it enraged her. 

“We survived, didn’t we? If it wasn’t for my crude magic then you’d be nothing more than a crater and a cloud of red mist. Not even the weave would have been able to stitch you back together.”

Gale's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. “Survival isn’t the only metric of success, Tav. The reckless use of power comes at a cost. Lae’zel and Wyll bear the scars of your uncontrolled outburst. We need to find a balance, a way to harness your strength without endangering the group.”

Tav’s frustration bubbled beneath the surface, her head pounding even harder. She knew Gale had a point, but the constant pressure to control something that felt as wild and untamed as a storm was suffocating. 

“And what would you have me do? My magic isn’t like yours. It doesn’t follow rules or commands. It’s a part of me, and sometimes it reacts without my say.” He was about to come back with a cut from that bladed tongue of his, so Tav kept going before he spent the next half an hour admonishing her.  “And maybe if you were a bit more reckless and free from your harness, you could cast magic without having to think about your dusty books and your precious ex-lover first. Might make you a little quicker off the mark.”

“Mystra is the source of all magic, including yours I might add!”

“My magic is my own.” Tav said steadily. 

“By Mystra’s grace.” Gale muttered under his breath. Tav was getting tired of his immovable, relentless devotion. It was becoming tiring.

“The weave may be hers, but our mastery of it is not.” Tav took a step towards him, she could smell the day’s musk clinging to him, mixing with the thick heat in the air. She could practically taste the scent of him on her tongue. There was a bead of sweat which slid down from his brow in a slow trickle. “You should let go a little, see what happens if you’re a bit more… primitive. There is life outside of Mystra’s palm, you know.” 

She was standing so close she could lean forward and run her tongue along his collarbone. She ached to do so. This man needed undoing. 

She had seen the way he looked at her, when the darkness called and her lips flashed from smile to sneer. When the bloodthirsty whispers poured promises of power into the whorl of her ear and she felt suddenly unstoppable. Her muscles would tighten and breath run ragged, and she would catch his eyes - a pretty creep of darkness stirring there to match her own. He hungered for her. He just wouldn’t admit it. 

She would have to make him. 

Tav met those dark eyes now, where lust for power and lust for her swirled together into a potent pool she wished to drown in. 

“I could help you let go, show you what real, mortal pleasure looks like. I could make you forget your Goddess for a little while. Perhaps even forever.” Tav’s voice was a siren’s song in a ceaseless ocean, and he was rock-strewn and desperate.

He swallowed thickly.

Gale liked to play the hero, but Tav saw through his façade, the veneer that masked a core of ambition and hunger. He cloaked himself in ideals, but beneath the surface, there was a darker drive that mirrored her own. Gale's ambition, though veiled in scholarly pursuits and noble causes, resonated with the raw, unbridled power that surged through her veins. They were kindred spirits, both dancing on the edge of control, both forged in the same fire.

They could be unstoppable, the two of them. There was enough power there to crumble the Absolute into dust. Not just the Absolute - anyone who stood before them. They could be more than gods; they could be whatever they wanted.

His fingers moved to trace featherlight over the sharpness of her jaw. His mouth was parted slightly and she could see the flash of his teeth, the curve of his tongue which she wanted to taste with her own. 

“Tempting” his voice was lower now, rougher. “But i’m afraid with my condition as volatile as it is, any undue… excitement… could tip it over the edge.” 

“I don’t believe that.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, I don’t believe it. Look at you now. Face flushed, chest heaving, provoked, heated. And you’re fine. I’ve seen you, mid-fight, full of adrenaline, when you make fire rain and lighting strike and the flash of light makes your smug little smile dance. You like it. And that level of excitement hasn’t destroyed you.” 

She reached out to trace the lines of the orb on his chest, exposed by his low-cut, loose robes, a necessity in the heat. Her fingers felt the indentations in his skin, the shallow, bruise-coloured carvings where his sweat gathered. She brought her damp, salty finger to her mouth, tasting the mingling of sweat and magic.

“I think you could handle it.”

His breathing was laboured, the hotness of it combining with the stifling air of the forge. “You would risk blowing us all to pieces, for what? Some mortal indulgence?”

“Wouldn’t you?” 

The silence burned between them, and Gale was caught between desires. He wanted her, but there was a voice telling him it would be a mistake. With his heart pumping so furiously and his head buzzing with the thought of Tav’s skin against his tongue, he did not know if that voice was his own - or that of his Goddess.

“Did she ever fuck you?” Tav’s voice was mocking, desire scorching the corners of her words until they smoked. 

“What Mystra and I shared was beyond fucking, I can assure you. You wouldn’t be able to understand the depth and intricacy of out…”

“So.. no?”

Her words were a lilt, a song, an invitation. She reached out her fingers to brush against the glint of silver nestled in the sweat-damp curls of his hair. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game. Meddling in things you know very little about.” He was speaking so softly now that each word was almost a whisper.

“Oh? I’d say I understand you better than you think. You tried to win a clever game against a God, and were surprised when she outplayed you. You wanted to match her power, and she cast you aside, seeing you for what you truly are. Another Karsus. An ambitious fool with an ego big enough to think he deserved to equal her power. That darkness in you had to cling to something Gale, It’s just feeding off what was already there.”

Something which was pulled tight, snapped.

“Go fuck yourself.” He purred, gaze glowering. There it was. That beautiful dark flash she loved so much. Tav had never heard him so blunt, so lacking in his usual verbosity. He hid behind his carefully constructed sentences like they were city walls, and now there was naught but crushed bricks and spite. 

He walked away, finished with her. But Tav was not finished with him.

“Fuck me yourself, you coward.” 

Coward.

The word ignited him. A second of final uncertainty was banished forever as he strode back to her wordlessly, blazing. He grabbed her waist, clutching her almost painfully as he kissed her the way he had fantasised about every time he saw her bursts of unbound, fiercely beautiful power. She was crimson in a world where he had only known soft violet.

There was no romance or tenderness, no promises of endless devotion or nights of a thousand pleasures. They didn't dance together in the sea of night, letting the weave morph them into ethereal, matterless energies. There was sweat and tongue and heat, pain that tasted like pleasure. Gale's moans were cracked and heavy as his teeth grazed Tav's neck. He could feel her heartbeat, hard and lustful under his tongue, pulsing all her mortal blood around the body he craved so desperately. Her hand was ungraceful as it tore apart the laces of his trousers, pushing down to find him unabashedly hard and wanting.

Tav smirked against his lips. "If you want something, you should just take it."

He grasped her hair hard in one hand, pulling her head back to look at him. Her pupils were lust-blown, her lips swollen from their bruising kiss.

"I intend to."

He tore the flimsy camp shirt from her, and Gale wasted no time in palming her bare breasts. He groaned at the feel of them, slick with her sweat, their weight and warmth driving him to the edge. He pushed them both to the ground ungracefully, his mouth moving down her body with such force and fervor that his lips and tongue left bruises. He wanted to fuck her recklessly and relentlessly, but first, he wanted to undo her completely.

He unceremoniously pulled down her trousers and underwear, feeling his cock twitch harder at the silken sight of her. The second his tongue tasted her cunt, she growled. He paused to look at her, writhing and helpless beneath him. Finally.

“Look who’s suddenly out of clever little words.” He murmured, breathing hard through his nose, her scent caught there. “Nothing to say to me now, hmm?”

“Gale,” was all she could manage, her sharp edges dulled. The plea in her softened voice made him drive his tongue back into her even harder. He was the one taking her.

Tav's hands clawed at the ground, her back arching as he devoured her. Every touch, every flick of his tongue sent shivers of pleasure through her body. She was unravelling, her mind a haze of lust and need. She pulled at his hair, guiding him, urging him on, her moans growing louder, more desperate.

He thought he would burn out from the heat alone. The sticky air clung to him like wet, heavy clothing. He felt so smothered with tacky humidity he could drown in it. They were both soaked, their sweat indistinguishable, their tastes mingling. Gale had once believed that the melding of minds and souls was the closest he could be to someone, but he was wrong. Here and now, with Tav, burning for and with each other, it felt like they were flames from the same ember.

She tasted like nothing else. Like sweat and salt. Like the first meal after a day of starving. She was red meat and bold wine and the ocean and something completely indescribable. She was a meal he wanted to indulge in completely until he was gorged. Tremors began to flicker through her legs, and her hips twitched more forcefully, pushing his nose further into her. He thought he might suffocate—let him, he thought. If he died with her scent in his lungs and her taste on his lips, so be it.

“Come. Now.” He said against her, the low thrum of his voice a vibration. Her hands clenched so tight in his hair her nails dug into his scalp, and he hissed as she came, bucking like an untamed animal as he did his best to keep her hips still while she rode his face into oblivion.

“More,” she gasped as he moved up to kiss her messily, his face soaked with her.

“Like this?” he growled as he finally thrust into her, his fingers digging into the supple flesh of her thighs. He pushed her legs upward, pinning her completely beneath him. He wanted her to feel all of him, to rub against her clit as he slammed into her.

He was tired of her acidity and sharp tongue; he wanted to douse her in pleasure until she was a wrecked woman who couldn’t string a sentence together. He wanted to fill her mouth with his cock just to stop her talking, to see her eyes water from the fullness of him as she gagged on him. And she would love every filthy minute of it, he knew, until he spilled himself down her throat, his hand tight in her hair.

He wanted to taste his own seed on her tongue. He wanted her to taste herself. He wanted to fuck her so deeply, and come inside her so fully that those two tastes became one.

She was intoxicating. Not only could he taste and feel her mortal flesh twitching and pulsing beneath him, he could feel the sensations dancing over his own skin. His cock throbbed, coated in the slick of her arousal. Caused by him. His breath was erratic, his usual reliable words lost in the bonfire of her.

She was infuriating. She was selfish. She was dangerous.

She was his, and he called out her name from the thought.

Her response was a mix of a moan and a cry, her nails raking down his back, her eyes half-closed in pleasure. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in another melting kiss, swallowing her cries as he thrust deeper, harder. His hands roamed her body, memorising every curve, every shiver of pleasure.

He could feel her nearing the edge again, her body tightening around him, every muscle coiling with anticipation. With one hand, he reached between them, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. The sensation sent her spiralling, her climax crashing over her with a force that left her trembling and breathless. Her moans turned to cries of ecstasy, her nails digging into his back as her body shuddered violently.

He watched her face contort with pleasure, her eyes glazed and lips parted, and it spurred him to thrust harder, deeper. His fingers never stopped their relentless motion, drawing out her orgasm until she was a quivering mess beneath him. He could feel her pulsing around his cock and he knew he was close. The sight of her coming undone, the sound of her pleading for more, was enough to push him over the edge

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his own release tearing through him. He groaned her name, his voice thick with passion, as he filled her, their bodies locked together. His fingers continued to work her, drawing out every last tremor, until she was left panting and spent.

He collapsed onto her, their sweat-slicked bodies pressed together, his breath coming in ragged gasps. For a moment, they lay there, tangled in each other, the air around them heavy and hot with the scent of sex. Slowly, Gale lifted his head to look at her, his eyes dark and glinting. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch surprisingly gentle after their ferocity.

“See,” she panted, “I told you you could handle it.”

He rested his head against her neck, wordless. His clever, moral little thoughts had burnt out in the chaos of her, and all that was left was the ambition she had stoked.

“There is so much more to life than what she offers,” Tav breathed. “A whole other, messy, mortal world out there, with more power than your Goddess was willing to give you.” She paused, her voice a whisper against his ear. “But I am. I would give you everything.”

Gale met her gaze, his eyes searching hers. For a fleeting moment, he swore he caught a flash of red within them. They were so close, their faces almost touching, that the same flash of red reflected in his own dark stare.

“Show me”

The prompt was...

"Go fuck yourself"

"Fuck me yourself, you coward."

[i-am-married-to-keith-kogane]

Keith dating hcs please!! and im so glad that their is people still doing voltron! i love that show so so much and I feel like the fandom is dying so quickly😭

hiii!!

ofc i can do keith dating headcanons lovely! im so glad you like voltron too, its taken over my life once again and its sad coming back to the fandom with just a little of us left but i want to continue posting/writing about voltron to keep it alive on tumblr with some other talented creators!!

✦KEITH KOGANE DATING HCS✦

✦before confessing his feelings to you, he had to ask lance for some help

✦it took a lot of contemplating and hyping up but he finally got there!

✦keith would struggle a little at the beginning of the relationship since he's worried you'll leave him for someone better. he would spend nights just staring at his ceiling and thinking how much better off you would be with someone else.

✦though overtime those thoughts would fade away but not completely.

✦he would try to flirt with you, but he'd become very flustered and awkward but you thought it was very adorable by the effort he'd put into it!

✦he is very against PDA (aka public display of affection)!!

✦if you break it, expect a very grumpy, pouty and flustered keith.

✦keith is VERY clingy in your relationship, he’ll just want to constantly be near you especially in social situations.

✦keith gets jealous, he just does. he's scared people are gonna steal you from him.

✦once while on a mission with him, this alien took it upon themself to start flirting with you (because who wouldn't😍), keith caught up on this and let me tell you, he was mad.

✦he completely broke the 'no PDA' rule. he wrapped you around in his arm and said "excuse me, but she's taken" with a deadpanned face. man was not having it.

✦i feel like his galra side would make him very territorial, which includes things that belong to him and his personal space.

✦your his and he's yours.

✦surprisingly the only thing that he let pass from his 'no PDA' rule is hand holding, ONLY if he knows that no one else notices (especially Lance or Pidge, they just love to tease him).

✦but they know, they're just snickering quietly to themselves, but shiro keeps them quiet for keith's sake(space dad!!)

✦okay if you guys sleep together, keith demands morning kisses. its the first thing he needs wants. when he wakes up don't be surprised to be showered in kisses!

✦this man does NOT care about morning breath, he just loves you so much!!

✦though, if you sleep in your own beds let say, he'll just brush his teeth (as will you🫵)

✦i feel like keith's hugs will be super comforting and long, especially if he's feeling a little sleepy (and he may just hug you around the other paladins if he is really tired)

✦(yk sometime you just got to break the rule, he just can't resist hugging you. it just makes him feel so warm and comforted.)

✦we all know that keith loves you to bits but he does get embarrassed about what the others will think when they see him so lovey dovey and intimate.

✦he needs to keep the tough guy act okay, its a full-time job (its really not)

✦but just keep reminding him to be himself ☻!!

OKAY WE'VE MADE IT TO CUDDLING!!!!

✦(im sorry i just love cuddles💗 ahhhh)

✦this man would sell his soul for a cuddle from you. IN PRIVATE sadly.

✦he loves little snuggles before drifting off to sleep after an exhausting day.

✦he loves when you pepper kisses all over his face, neck, collarbone and shoulders

✦he also loves when you play or run your fingers through his hair, he finds it so soothing.

✦also don't deny any of his affection! IT WILL SEND THIS DUDE INTO SEVERE POUTY-NESS.

✦he just loves you so so so much!! so it will break his heart (not literally).

✦your the definition of the sun to his moon.♥︎

(i dont think i used that correctly ☹︎ but trust the thought process)

✦you always have to remind him that if he dies, you die too. in hope to make him less reckless on missions (he's still reckless).

✦also before he leaves for a mission he always gives you a sweet little kiss at the forehead/temple and definitely expect a kiss when he gets back!!

☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

✦in the end he loves you dearly and would do anything for you ☻♥︎

★。＼｜／。★

-love,

. marra✧˖*°࿐

★。／｜＼。★

[woso-fan13]

Whumptober 2023: 26 (Barca)

No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”

Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.” 

“Y/N,” a voice calls. 

You hum in response, not looking up from where you’re packing your bag. Practice had just ended and you were trying to get out of there as quickly as you could. You had a list of things you needed to do. 

“Want to come out tonight? We’ve got tomorrow morning off!” 

You still can’t place that voice. You know who it is- one of your teammates, obviously- but your brain is exhausted and can’t pack your bag while matching the voice to a name. 

“I can’t, not tonight,” you say, “have fun, though!”

You really did want to go. You would love nothing more than to have a night off to relax with your friends. But you knew you couldn't, you didn’t have time. Between practice and games for both club and national team and all of the travel associated with those, you stayed busy. Add to that your full course schedule at school and the countless commitments, you barely had time to sleep. 

Your bag is finally packed at this point, and you hike it up over your shoulder. You’re about to say your goodbyes when a different voice calls your name and stops you. Pausing, you look up to where Mapi stands with an amused look on her face. 

“Are you wearing that?” she asks. 

Confused, you look down. You had thrown leggings and a sweatshirt on after your shower, pretty much all of the girls were wearing the same thing. 

“Yeah,” you say, the statement coming as more of a question. 

“Your socks will get dirty,” she chuckles. 

You just blink at her, unable to process what she means. She takes pity on you, walking over to your locker. She grabs your shoes out, gently tossing them on the floor by your feet. 

“Oh,” you audibly say. 

“Yeah, oh,” Mapi copies you, “are you okay?”

You nod, shoving your feet into your shoes, “just busy.”

Mapi nods knowingly, “at least practice is over now. How about we drop you off so you can get some sleep?”

She motions to Ingrid when she says this. As your eyes move to look at her, you notice that the locker room is empty. Minus the said woman sitting on her locker and watching the two of you, everyone had left. You had no idea how you didn’t notice. 

“That’s okay, thanks though,” you decline, “I can drive myself, I have a whole list of things I need to do tonight.”

You yawn halfway through speaking, Mapi’s face softening. She scanned your face, noticing the large, dark bags under your eyes and the tiredness covering your features. 

“No, chiquita, you can’t drive home. You’re exhausted, it’s not safe.”

You want to argue, but you know she’s right. Before you can even begin to half heartedly disagree, Ingrid inserts herself into the conversation. 

“Mapi can drive you back in your car, and I’ll drive ours. Does that work?”

You nod in agreement. The idea satisfies Mapi too, as you can see her mirroring your nod. 

Since everyone was ready, the three of you moved to grab all of your things and head to the parking lot. Mapi shakes her head as she grabs your phone and keys from where you left them in your locker. She shoots Ingrid a look, both women frowning. You’re oblivious. 

—-

The drive home is short, thankfully you lived close to the club. You’re somewhat confused when Mapi gets out and follows you to the door, your confusion growing as Ingrid follows. Surely they weren’t planning on coming inside. 

They were. 

The two women didn’t allow you a chance to close the door, pushing their way inside. Mapi sets off to the kitchen, clearly on a mission. You can hear as she starts looking through cabinets, but you’re too tired to care. 

Ingrid places a warm hand on the small of your back, guiding you into the living room. You try to protest, insisting that you have things you need to do. She silences you quickly, insisting that you sit with her for only a few minutes. Agreeing with her, the two of you settle on the sofa. You’re leaning into her side, her hand stroking through your hair. You can feel your eyes drooping after a few seconds, but her gentle voice rouses you. 

“Stay awake, baby, just for a little while longer.”

You whine in response- something you’ll vehemently deny. Ingrid smiles, allowing you to silently rest against her until Mapi appears in the room.

She’s holding a plate in her hand, a sandwich and fruit sitting on it. Sitting on the table in front of you, she pushes it into your hands. 

“Coma,” she insists, “as much as you can.”

You manage about half the sandwich and all of the fruit before you look up to Mapi. She’s still sitting in front of you, watching you eat. She smiles encouragingly. 

“Done?”

You nod and she takes the plate from you. You’re somewhat surprised when she sets the plate on the coffee table, moving to sit next to you on the sofa. 

You try to wiggle out from between the two women. They gently stop you. 

“I appreciate you driving me home and making dinner, but I really do have things I need to do,” you argue. 

“You’re exhausted,” Ingrid simply says, tracing the bruises under your eyes gently with her thumb, “all you need is sleep.” 

Mapi chimes in before you can respond, “she’s right, peque, it’s time for bed.”

You really want to insist that you can’t sleep yet. But you’re so tired and they’re so kind and all you want to do is sleep. You don’t remember agreeing to sleep. You don’t actually remember anything after that point. 

Ingrid and Mapi watch as your body relaxes between the two of them, sleep finally taking over. The two remain still, chatting quietly. They don’t want to do anything that might jeopardize your sleep. Unfortunately, this includes moving because of the way you’re stretched across their laps. 

(They don’t mind this at all. They actually think it’s very fortunate.)

Eventually, they’re pretty sure you’re zonked for the night. As much as they would love to spend the rest of the night on the sofa with you, it wouldn’t be comfortable for anyone. After a brief argument, it’s decided that Mapi will get to carry you to bed. She stands up, cradling you against her. Sticking her tongue out at Ingrid, she walks to your room and settles you under the covers. She may also stay longer than necessary, pushing the hair off of your face and watching your soft features as you sleep. 

Meanwhile, Ingrid grabs the plate off of the coffee table. Going into the kitchen, she cleans everything up and starts the dishwasher. Walking over to the large calendar on the wall, she looks at the list of things to do under today’s date. 

—-

You wake up in the morning to the sun shining in through your blinds. That’s not good. You don’t remember falling asleep and you were supposed to be awake before the sun rose. Taking a deep breath and resigning yourself to less sleep tonight as you make everything up, you get out of bed. 

Walking into the living room, you notice that it’s much cleaner than when you went to bed. Suspiciously, you move into the kitchen. That, too, is sparkling clean. 

The next thing to catch your eye is the changes on your calendar. That was your baby, your whole life ran on that large whiteboard. So, when you noticed different color markers and new handwriting, your breath caught in your throat. 

Walking over, you can see the list of activities you were supposed to do last night crossed out. You also see that most of the things you need to do tonight are crossed out, instead replaced with a large “sleep!” 

Oh. 

Mapi and Ingrid had done it all for you. 

Tears well in your eyes at the kind gesture. You only manage to stop them when you hear quiet footsteps behind you. 

Turning around, you see a half awake Ingrid. She’s smiling, clearly pleased with the surprise. You hurry over and wrap her in a tight hug, whispering your thanks. Another set of arms joins the two of you- Mapi. 

[soapyghostie]

Hey! Absolutely random request, but imagine reader being a tired person that out of wounds and stress they just fall asleep when they're being carried, about to go on a hook. How would the dbd killers(any, really) react?

Like, imagine. Being carried, without anything under legs can already make someone sleepy if they don't have adrenaline pumped through their veins. Plus, i know that having wounds(aka blood loss) can make people very tired.

Since this request it a little vague, I decided to get a little creative with it and wrote some angst because I’m a sucker for angst with dad slashers (except Frank is your big brother in this request). 😭 Hope you enjoy!

The Ghost Face/Danny Johnson

Danny would be confused at first, bloodlust still kicking through his veins even after killing all our teammates as he carries you, his injured daughter, to the hook (Sorry (Y/N), he’s just doing his job. No hard feelings). He’ll pause for a moment, trying to process the fact that you feel asleep on his shoulder.

As he realizes that you fell asleep due to exhaustion and stress from your wounds, Danny’s demeanor would soften and his parental instincts within him kicks in. He’ll gently adjust you in his arms from being thrown over his shoulder to being carried bridal style, ensuring that you’re comfortable even as he still proceeds to hook you. 

Seeing you in such a vulnerable state would stir up a lot of internal conflict in Danny. He’s torn between his role as a merciless killer and his love for you as his daughter as he hesitates to sacrifice you to the Entity. Danny’s had a lot of bad performances in trials lately and he really needs the 4K. However, to get the 4K he needs to sacrifice you. Of course it has to be you: the Entity is so cruel. 

As to not get punished by the Entity, sadly, Danny will throw you onto the hook. Danny would feel a pang of remorse and sadness. He knows that he’s the cause of your pain and exhaustion, and seeing you in such a vulnerable state serves as a painful reminder of the life he’s subjected you to. He silently reflects on his actions and their consequences. He’ll gaze at your sleeping form dangling from the hook, grappling with the complexities of his emotions and the choices he made. 

Despite his conflicted emotions, Danny remains committed to his role in the Entity’s twisted game. However, Danny’s determination to protect you remains unwavering. He’ll play the Entity’s game and continue this dark path as a killer if it means to ensure your safety as he doesn’t want you to be harmed as a result of his shortcomings… 

The Legion/Frank Morrison

Frank would be initially shocked and panicked to see you, his younger sister, in such a vulnerable state. Despite his tough ‘bad boy’ exterior, he deeply cares about you and seeing you hurt triggers his protective instincts. 

The sight of you falling asleep from exhaustion and stress while carrying you to the hook fills Frank with anger and frustration. He’ll curse under his breath, feeling powerless to protect you and frustrated with the situation at hand. First off, your god damn heavy after going unconscious and, secondly, he has no choice but to hook you due to the amount of failed trials he’s had lately to try and please the Entity. 

Despite his anger, Frank, also like Danny, would feel a sense of inner conflict. On one hand, he wants to lash out at the Entity for throwing her into a trial with him, but on the other hand, he knows he has to get the 4K by hooking you so you end up safe and sound at the survivor camp instead of the agony the Entity threatened to put you through if he didn’t start stepping it up in trials. You’re the reason he has the strength to keep going in this awful, twisted game of cat and mouse. 

Frank would grapple with the feeling of guilt and responsibility for your condition. As your older brother, he feels entitled to preventing you from getting hurt in the first place and blames himself for everything that has happened to you. Despite his conflicting emotions, he would carefully and gently place you on the hook, making sure you're as comfortable as possible given the circumstances. As he watches you sleep on the hook, Frank would have a quiet moment of reflection. He reminisces about y’all’s childhood together and vows silently to himself to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. 

Seeing you vulnerable would only fuel Frank’s determination to perform better in trials. He would be even more relentless in his pursuit of survivors, driven by the desire to protect you from the Entity’s hungry claws. 

The Shape/Michael Myers

Michael would pause, a flicker of confusion crossing his expressionless face. The sight of you, his daughter, falling asleep despite the dire circumstances briefly disrupts his usual relentless pursuit to satisfy his murderous desires. 

Deep within his obscured psyche, a conflict brews. While Michael is driven by an insatiable urge to kill, his parental instincts stir, conflicting with his murderous impulses. This momentary hesitation leads to a brief internal struggle, the likes of which observers of Michael would never perceive. 

Despite the task at hand and the chaos of the trial, Michael momentarily freezes, holding your unconscious body with an eerie stillness. His iconic breathing momentarily ceases, as if he too, like Danny and Frank, were contemplating the peculiar situation. 

In a rare display of tenderness, Michael gingerly adjusts your position, ensuring that you're comfortable even as he prepares to hook you. His movements would be precise, almost caring, as if he’s trying to shield you from further harm, even in your unconscious state. As he gazes upon your sleeping form, fragments of memories flicker through Michael’s mind. Images of you as a child, innocent and untouched by the darkness that now envelopes you both, momentarily soften his gaze, perhaps even cause a subtle twitch at the corners of his mouth – a long-forgotten smile. You are his world. 

Ultimately, the weight of his desire to kill and the futility of his attempts to connect with you wash over Michael. With a heavy heart hidden beneath his iconic mask, he proceeds with the task at hand – sacrificing you to the Entity. With a solemn determination, Michael carries you to the hook, his obsession with killing eclipsing any semblance of any paternal sentiment.

[georgeclarkesgf]

Hiiiiii ❤️❤️

Would you be up for writing any George Clarke fics about labour or birth???

here you go lovely <3

if you had to describe your labour in three words they would be long, painful and frustrating.

baby girl clarkey had clearly found your uterus an enjoyable place to live the past nine months. you were nine days overdue when your water broke and throughout labour, she seemed to be refusing to descend. in an attempt to lessen the pain and quicken the process, the midwife recommended a birthing ball. you nodded, hoping gravity would do its job. you were also grateful for anything that would provide you with some relief. george carefully guided you to sit on the ball since he wanted to be useful in any way he could. a tired smile was thrown his way and he felt like crying seeing how much pain you were in.

"i'm so incredibly proud of you my love. it won't be long till we get to meet our babygirl," he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead and moves behind you to redo your hair, "i hope she looks like you."

"why?" you questioned, sensing the start of yet another contraction.

"cause you're beautiful."

"you're so cheesy." george's jaw dropped, pretending to be offended.

he started massaging your back as you concentrated on breathing through another contraction. the midwife kept checking your progress and her heartbeat and after what seemed like days, she finally said the words you were so excited and yet so scared to hear.

"alright y/n, it's time to push. let's have this baby." you turned to look at george, a terrified expression on your face.

"baby, you can do this. everyone knows it." he gave you a reassuring smile.

the midwife and george went to help you up off the ball to the bed before you stopped them, "wait, i want george there. on the bed i mean. behind me."

in a matter of seconds, he was on the bed after getting the midwife's nod of approval and removing his shoes and jumper. before the need to push hit, you got comfortable, laying against george's chest. screaming, crying, and lots of encouraging words filled the next few minutes. you gripped george's hands tightly as each contraction came and pushed hard until the sound you had been waiting months to hear filled the room.

your beautiful baby girl's cry.

she was placed on your chest, and a rush of overwhelming love and relief flooded over you. tears filled your eyes as you took in every detail of her. her tiny fingers and toes. her nose which she definitely got from you. everything about her was perfect. george, who was also crying, kissed your shoulder and stroked his baby girl's cheek.

"she's so perfect," he whispered, "i'm so, so, so proud of you. i love you."

BONUS

(i was gonna just end it there but i wanted to include telling the boys so have this)

you were in love with her, and both of you were enjoying and starting to adjust to life as a family of three, even if it had only been a few hours. labour had exhausted you but you seemed too overwhelmed with emotions to be able to sleep. you also hadn't had time to since both your families had arrived, wanting to meet the newest addition and check up on you both.

"george?" he hummed in acknowledgment, still enamored with his baby girl.

"you wanna facetime chris and them lot?" his head popped up at the question, moving from the side of the cot to sit by you on the bed.

"you sure? i don't want it to be too much. and i was quite enjoying our baby bubble." he brushed a piece of hair from your face, scanning your face for any sort of hesitance.

"me too," you agreed, "but i think they'll notice something's off when you don't go to the flat to watch the match tonight."

"well, i was still gonna go," he had a cheeky smirk on his face, watching for your reaction, to which you raise your eyebrows, "i'm joking. yea okay, let's facetime them."

george grabbed his phone and face timed chris, knowing the rest of the group will already be there for the match. the phone rang for a few seconds before he answered.

"alright mate?" chris asked, before realising george wasn't on his way like he thought he would be, "where are you? we're all waiting for you."

"uh, i actually won't make it tonight. something's come up. who's there anyway?" shouts of disappointment came from the other end of the phone and you couldn't help but quietly laugh.

"literally everyone. mr television, mr hill, chip, will, cal. you know the rest, do i have to name everyone? it's the boys." george cringed at that, knowing chris only says it to wind him up.

"chris, just shut up. can you put the phone somewhere please, i need everyone to be able to see me," you both watched as the phone was placed on the table and everyone filtered into shot one by one, "also, can someone please record this on their camera if they have it with them?"

you grabbed george's hand, knowing he was nervous, and nodded at him as though to ask if he was ready since you could hear some of the boys asking what was going on. he passed the phone to you, earning more looks of confusion before chip spoke up.

"y/n, we love you but what's with the teasing. we have a game to watch." you rolled your eyes, feeling the bed dip from george having just brought over your baby girl.

you couldn't contain your smile, "we have a surprise." you turned the camera to george, who was cradling your daughter in his arms.

the other end of the phone was silent for a few moments before they erupted into cheers.

"will, you owe me fifty quid." cal cheered, turning to him with a hand out expectantly.

"hang on a minute, you guys were betting on when i'd give birth?" you gasped as they all nodded their heads.

"you were nine days past your due date y/n. it was only a matter of time." will confirmed, handing cal his money.

"congratulations though guys, she's gorgeous. does she have a name yet?" arthur tv asked, as they all quieted down waiting.

you glanced at george, who nodded, knowing you had your heart set on a name, "yea. this is isla."

questions came one after the other from the boys, but george knew you were tired and isla needed to be fed. dad mode was evidently activated.

"guys calm down. we'll answer the questions when we see you but for now, you have a match to watch and we have a baby to feed. we just wanted you to know she was here." you all said goodbye to each other before the call ended, allowing you to go back to your own little bubble.

"we did it." you whispered, staring at the tiny little girl who somehow looked even smaller in george's arms.

"we did."

[sehodreams]

Thinking about perv anton with his older girlfriend not even sex crazed he just has a bunny’s libido

Wanting to fuck her everywhere in every place in every position

Mouth tits thighs

And he seems like he can’t stop discovering kinks

Even when he’s hazy with a fever he lays in bed staring up at her with adoration as she’s taking of her clothes and that’s when it hit him a new kink didn’t even know it was a thing (then he googled it) her skirt came off and her hands reached for his forehead bending down to push his hair away “you’re still burning up” she says with a pout before straightening up again before her fingers looped through her tights about to take them off before he stopped her begging her to let him come on them and eat her through them

got too carried away feel free to ignore this 😵‍💫

-🍒

I was literally thinking about something like that for forgiving others is easy, forgiving yourself not that much (god why did I make a tittle so long), but the fever is such a nice touch I love it 😭🩷✨

I also got carried away too hahaha, this is just a little thought, no proof read like always.

Tw and tags: MDNI, no p in v, sniffing, tights, sexual content.

Anton eagerly waiting for you to come home, his older girlfriend and favorite person in the whole world, happy to finally see you when you arrive from your exhausting office life with one bag full of his medication in one hand and a takeout order for him in the other, there instead of on your own apartment just to check on your pretty boyfriend after a long tiring day.

You innocently move his hair and smile to him, asking him how he feels and he really feels like shit but now looking at you his mouth answers before he can even process it, "a lot better now that I have you with me", making you giggle and forget about all your stress.

You move to his closet so you can change into something more comfortable, feeling his eyes follow your every move but already used to it after so many days and nights together to even mind, you pull down your skirt without much thinking, trying to find something to wear so you can give him his dinner and his medicine so he can sleep the whole night.

Anton watches you bend down to choose one of his numerous t-shirts, feeling something tingling inside when he sees the nylon become more transparent with the sudden movement, showing your black panties through it and the plump of your ass, making his mind even more dizzy apart from the fever that was consuming him.

"Wait," he says before you pull down your tights too, "come for a second".

You walk to him unsure about what's going on but not daring to question him when he looks so weak in his bed all alone with red cheeks.

He, lying down, grabs one of your hands and looks up to you before his other hand rests on your hip, touching the fabric and pressing his fingers to see how your skin accepts his strength and lets itself be molded to his own desire.

"Anton..." you call his name, perfectly identifying the need in his eyes he always has when he wants something from you, "you're still sick."

"I just want to touch you a little bit," he says as if it was the most common thing to itch for a little touch in those moments when one is sick.

You try to move apart and not let yourself get dragged into his schemes, but you're weak to the handsome boy and his well used and known tactics to get what he wants. Still, q couple of kisses over the back of your hand, two sentences about how much he has missed you and one look at the red tip of his cock that he displays to you with no shame is enough for you to open your legs and let him push his nose into the softness of your thighs.

He slowly sniff the aroma of the nylon, it wasn't the best one, but the feeling of the tip of his nose caressing it makes his cock jump and a knot in his stomach starts to form with every touch until he finds your clothed cunt and his eyes almost roll back his head with how good you smell there and how different the sensation of his nose sinking into your lips is.

Like instinct, you've been getting wet the second you crossed his door. There hasn't been a single night with that boy in which you haven't been fucked in his bed until you've been a crying mess and he had continued thrusting even when his groans have become whimpers and his cock has already filled you so much his cum is spilling over the bed with each push, so your body had started, at some point in your relationship, to sent a signal to your core everytime you were there in his space, ready for him to take you.

Anton had a sex drive you had never seen before, sometimes a bit disturbing considering how much he likes to overstimulate himself, not only while fucking into your cunt, but begging for you to sit on his face or directly ride his clothed cock until he came inside his pants and a wet spot appeared making you stop before he got hard again and asked you to continue. It's needless to say that you always walked out of there a bit sore, but so satisfied you never felt the need to sit and question why he was like that.

You're back into reality when his flat tongue starts to damp the clothing covering your clit waiting for the usual sensation of him directly playing with it, but you can't seem to enjoy it when your poor boyfriend is sweating out his fever and is down on his knees. A place in your heart stings and you want to ask him to lie and rest comfortably once again, however, knowing him, he'd rather stay burning up with his face against your pussy until he fainted than letting you go after noticing how your juices accumulated under your panties.

As if he was high, he has lost eyes and doesn't seem to have a single thought inside his head apart from getting what he wants from you, and even if the pressure of his big nose under you it's good, it's nothing like the sensation of him drowning with your slick and his tongue thrusting inside your hole.

You moan his name, wanting to feel him eat you out properly, but looking down at him you see him so satisfied sniffing and suffocating with your pussy over the tights while jerking off his cock that you decide to just let him get what he wants so he can find his release and accept his medicine without complain.

"Anton, will you go to sleep after this?" You ask hoping that he hears you through his haze and answers at least with a nod so he doesn't try to convince you into doing more later.

He nods and you finally can breath.

"Promise?" Your fingers play with his hair and you make him look at you in the eyes this time before he, rubbing his nose up and down while answering, nods again.

You, believing him, feel free of guilt to help him get off this time.

It's easy, just like you thought, you flex your fingers through his moist scalp and grab the hems of his hairs, and leaving the compassion you always have for your boyfriend to let him get what he wants aside, you push your hips to his face and control the pace of his nose grinding with your clit and his tongue soaking your panties even more.

Your eyes flutter with every thrust and he looks elated to have you using him, so he ignores the tension inside his lower stomach and permits you to use him like you want until, with a singular moan from you, his dick aches and searches for some type of friction, finding nothing until you order him to touch himself again.

After he cums all over your feet not more than two minutes later, before he asks you to let him cum inside at least one time (or to break your tights and eat you out with the excuse of not wanting to be the only one having an orgasm), you move and slide them down to then toss them to a corner of his room.

You order him to lie down, and pressing your forehead over his, you notice that he's even more hot than when you arrived. You sigh, cursing yourself inside for being so weak and not been able to say no to a younger boy with an excessive lust that should learn, for at least once, that he couldn't get his way all the time.

But you look at him closing his eyes with a grin and you smile too, thinking that maybe the work of saying no to him you should leave it to others outside.