#I could pour hours into something and then absolutely fucking hate it the moment I post it

[kaitaiga]

.

[pascals-doll]

aint ya’ girlfriend!

⋆ ˚ . * · analysis— in which ellie doesn’t know the meaning “commitment”, well she does but chooses to not stay loyal. you’re her roomate and unattainable—or so she thought. venturing into your own dating life causes her to spiral, she aint your girlfriend & neither are you. | WC: 1.5K

₊˚ପ ellie williams x reader | photo cover obvi from Pinterest!

₊˚ପ MEOWW IM BACK !! gotta run it back with some toxic ellie 😇!!

₊˚ପ description: MODERN ROOMATE AU! NO PHYSICAL FEMALE DESCRIPTION! ANGST & SMUT, PORN W PLOT! (lol), toxic!ellie, roomate!ellie, PLAYER! (coded) ellie, JEALOUS!ellie, no use of Y/N, the mention of commitment issues, MUTUAL PINING, blatant flirting, secret crushing, heavy yearning, very small reader x dina, heated arguement, mention of ellie sleeping with multiple women, POWERPLAY, mix of dom!reader & dom!ellie, sub!ellie partly & sub!reader, pent-up sex (😇), teasing, HIGHKEY MAKEUP SEX (👅), possessive!ellie, finger-fucking ( E receiving), face riding (E receiving), 69, praising, pussy eating (both receiving), slight biting (both), slight choking (both), use of pet names ( baby, mama)

90% percent of things in this world are easily accomplished and achieved, being Ellie Williams roommate wasn’t one of them.

Since the day you met through a roommate finder site, after a few phone conversations getting to know each other t’ill the moment you arranged your meeting. Ellie's been enamored, secretly, nonetheless.

You would lie if you said that from the moment; she came to help you move out t’ill now—dealing with sleepless nights because of her lack of sexual resistance—that her consistent affection didn't sway you.

it's been exactly six months since you've moved in with Ellie and you could recount her daily routine like it was your skincare.

You weren't sure, if you genuinely thought Ellie was sure you were dumb or straight-up shameless.

At dark hours of the midnight, you might've been asleep but that didn’t stop her by the agonizing moans that echoed through cheap plywood walls. You groaned as you muffled your entire face and ears with your pillow, praying for them to shut the fuck up or stop.

Three days, twice a week.

Ellie had to have some type of sex problem. You thought to yourself. You're never one to hate someone's game-but living with the player is absolute fucking hell.

Every morning, you’re an early bird as Ellie is not, due to her nightly ventures.

You felt bad for the women who left disheveled, sneaking through the apartment at 7 AM to leave while you step out your bedroom; an empathetic smile shot their way before hurrying into the bathroom.

Your morning routine consists of cleaning yourself up before stepping out to cook early breakfast.

By the time, Ellie awoke and stepped out cockily, "Thank you, beautiful. You didn't have to cook me breakfast." She coaxed happily, pouring her cup of coffee at 12 PM. You sat on the couch reading your book, legs crossed and rested onto your coffee table.

You chuckled, "That shit's cold by now, I made it when tonight's booty-call left." Unphased and focused on your book. You could hear her footsteps begin to lead towards the living room area, closer, and closer to the couch you relaxed on.

You would never admit it. Although, her lack of respect for your peace—doesn't mean she should starve.

She joined you on the couch, empty space right beside. Ellie's presence tensing your muscles for some reason. She somewhat annoyed you but when you got to talk to her, it went so well. You guys actually had so much in common.

It felt serene to connect with her on many levels besides her surface actions, she was a timid person throughout the small cocky remarks. She was a great listener along as a storyteller over everything.

It was truly remarkable the balance she carried, also interesting. Something you couldn't quite wrap your head around still. You were willingly delusional, but it was clearly evident, you soaked in every moment with this person.

You lowered your book while she asked, "Hmph-touchè, you got any plans for today?" Calling your attention. Eyes sulked, the forest she carried within her eyes; it wasn't hard to comprehend why these women want a chance with her.

Ellie’s eyes were impossible not to get lost in, like compulsion. You never held eye contact too long, taking moments to break away, and retain from fluttering to the brown kissed freckles along her face to the shape of her soft lips.

You squint, a small smirk creeping through "Wouldn't you like to know what I'm up too." Your tone teases before going back to reading.

"I know what you been up too," Ellie tries to push further, reaching forward to delicately grasp your legs that rested on the coffee table. Your legs laid into her lap, sprawling across, and hanging off.

Another thing that consists of her routine the most? Spending the rest of the hours, days, and weeks flirting with you.

Ellie loved physical touch—as if she wasn't physical enough. She loved her hands on you.

Watching herself caress the exposed skin of your legs, massaging down t’ill your ankle high-socks. Wether it was platonic or flirtatious, affection was key with you.

Once again, you lower your book to meet her eyes.

Ellie’s hands worked their way down, her fingers pressuring skillfully onto your heel and tingling the palm of your foot. She continues watching you read, "Oh yeah? What am I going to do today?" You question her, disregarding your book.

Sinking herself into the couch, her hands moving up from your legs to your thighs. Softly squeezing on of them, goosebumping your skin.

Ellie smiles confidently, "Cuddle with me and watch movies." Her eyes shimmering. You gaze at the big grin she spoke with, unsure if she was ever genuine.

You sat-up and leaned closer towards her till met face-level, "I'm sorry Els, someone else booked my time for today! I'm sure you will find a way to entertain yourself, hm?" You patted her shoulder with a smile as you got up.

"Wait, What the fuck do you mean?"

"Oh Williams! I've got a date, gotta' get ready."

It was insane, truly.

Ellie thought she was going crazy; she couldn't ever date you.

You're too good for her, representing everything she should want but isn't ready for. She was aware of how clearly toxic and intoxicated she was off, and with you.

No. Fuck no.

Ellie repeated to herself mentally, alongside questioning her existence—had she really been so caught up on trying to get a reaction out of you to see your time focused on someone else? —Yes, she was.

It wasn't as bad as the delusions Ellie's paranoia was creating in her mind. You had hung out with your friends where you happened to meet Dina. She was a mutual friend that you were introduced too.

Ever since then, you've been flattered, and hoped for a dinner date with her. For you, it felt like an escape of emotional dread that came after every touch, sentence, and epithet that left Ellie's lips.

You hated the way you loved how affectionate she was, catching yourself vulnerable every time she touched you. Always dwelling the feeling of her soft warmth that soaked into your own invisible bliss, never allowing yourself to look too pleased; Yet, never pulling away.

Ellie headed down the hallway to your room. She was desperate to get you to stay, creating small and stupid conversation to slow you as she loved hearing her nickname fall from your lips even though she was practically seeping jealousy.

Ellie was her own ticking time-bomb, her patience melting, and mustering “Who's the lucky girl?" She bugged, trying her hardest to conceal that greened tone.

You swirl your chair around, now completely facing her as you couldn’t help your jaw fall agape. You examine her demeanor while speaking up, “I don't ask about your daily rendezvouses." You were quick to quirk back, feeling uncalled for.

Ellie's brows knitted together, "We-well—are you gonna' bring them back? I deserve to know that." She stumbled but spit back.

It was clear, now, you offended her. It was true. You never asked about the women she brought into your shared apartment. The women she brought to make you jealous.

The laugh you let out was priceless, "I don't get a say on who you bring home, why would you?" You called her out.

Ellie stepped closer to your chair. She looked into your mirror, leaving you no choice but to face her as your swirled around, her eyes gandered through your vanity mirror.

Your facial expressions were clearer as she continued to push, "It's different, you know that." She tries to prove.

You wanted peace and relaxation, something Ellie makes a sure mission of that you never fucking receive.

"You can't go out," Ellie began.

"Who's gonna stop me? Are you serious?' You thought she must've been fucking with you; you weren't going to hear another word of it.

"Just get out, get out now." Standing up from you chair, holding it open as she walks out, and slamming the door behind her.

You had left and most of all, you had left Ellie feeling like complete shit.

She couldn't believe you did this, did this to her. It felt like you had shot right through her heart, torturing her with her own distasteful antics, and leaving a sour tang to her soul.

In her mind, she thought you were utterly selfish. She couldn't see past the fact that, you, didn't owe her anything.

Ellie wanted you, beyond pleasure, more than anything. You became insatiable to her.

She didn’t allow herself to soak in tangled feelings she felt for you, knew she had, even if it ate her alive at night. You would come to visit her in her sleep or while she mindlessly fucked some girl—sometimes, even pretending it was you.

You are treasure to her, too valuable to touch, but always curious with growing desperation to obtain and protect.

Ellie's peace was founded in you, a safe place she loves calling home. Unknown to your knowledge and you disrupted it.

As she disrupts your peace by being with anyone, but you.

Ellie finally understood what you meant by those backhanded insults.

She sat there with her hands palmed to her face, fingers running, and scratching through her short soft locks. Messing her own hair up, contemplating on how she could turn such a deep pattern.

This entire time she had been failing and failed to see that.

Out of everything, she thought blowing up your phone was the answer.

When you finally opened your phone, you saw your notification inbox full.

ⓘ Els ❕50+ messages

ⓘ Els ❕50 missed calls

You excused yourself to the restroom at fhe table with Dina, "I'm sorry, is it okay if run to the restroom really quick?" You requested through a thick forced tone and hidden irritation.

Your date had been going amazing. You may not have a lot in common with Dina, but she's a cheerful person who brings a refreshening energy. It was nice being in her presence.

It wasn't enough though.

You found yourself comparing your conversations to the conversations you have with Ellie, who is just your fucking roommate.

Dina was picture perfect, absolutely stunning, and she respected you more than you imagined Ellie ever could. That was the thing; even if talking to Dina tonight was full of laughter.

Everything you wanted wasn't her.

Never able to shake the anticipation of her touches, and the absence of her presence. Which make you crave it. Crave her. She was pure risk and you never wanted her to change.

You had a crush on your roommate, and you were fucked.

You were in the restroom ringing Ellie's phone. Hearing the beat of your heart thumps.

"You better say something good." You wanted to scream out as the line connects. You had every right to be, never once have you blown up her phone.

"Where are you? Let me come get you." She hurried through her words, hearing her surroundings of cars driving with a swish of wind.

You paced around, shocked and even more angry, "Are you out? Where are you?" You throw her own question back at her, whisper-yelling in a stall.

Ellie was so desperate to find where you were out like a girlfriend gone rogue.

"On my way to come get you, now tell me, where." She states blatantly and impatiently.

"You fucking wish! what happened? your hookup ain't text ya' back?" Your tone was laced with pure spite. It was silent for a small moment over the phone.

"Tell me where you are or come home." You could hear the desperation through her roughed-up tone.

Not a word was said. Your mood had been completely killed and you were hanging on by a thread. Repeating herself, “Come home or tell me where you are, please."

For the first time, you heard Ellie beg. She was pleading for you to come home, and you hated to admit it; yet, again.

But it worked.

When you finally saw her, you didn’t bring yourself to look or speak while you walked completely past her.

The silence was piercing the whole way. You could hear a pin drop.

“No side piece tonight?” your tone, only bashful. You were exhausted and enraged.

Ellie's white wife-beater was roughed up and you could smell the stench of marijuana roam off her neck. She looked sullen, her eyes low, bagged, and her jaw seeming clenched; her hair staticy.

You observed her body language, scanning her lean figure. Her sweatpants hung loosely onto her hips as her gaze shifted between you and her own feet.

Huffing, "Just why." you state, disassociating yourself by looking at the ground. It was continued silence for a moment.

"You came back for a reason, though." Ellie finally spoke and it just made everything worse.

"You know what? I did. I came back because I actually care for you. I thought you were in trouble or something, so I thought, hey, maybe I should go back—" You began, your voice shrieking as it raised louder.

"Something you never fucking think to do, too busy fucking to show me an ounce of respect!" You yelled. Weight had been lifted.

It was like screaming a keyword at Ellie, budging from looking at ground to look at you "What are you talking about!?" Ellie's eyes widen, her eyebrows raising as she retorts.

"You don't fucking get it!" you didn't say anything as she raised her hand angrily into the air, then running in through her hair.

"It is so fucking hard trying to resist you." Ellie's eyes were piercing into yours, her steps stalking closer.

"No matter how many women, they are never you. You are all I think about." You could hear her voice grow lower and lower as you froze.

You were at a loss for words, lips parted as you try to focus on your breathing.

"I want you. I need you." Ellie continues, whispering. Feeling her warm breath feather your lips. Ellie closed any space between you both, pulling you into her.

You opened your mouth to speak—only for her to bring a finger up to shush your lips, "I can't stand the thought of you with someone else." Ellie continued, leaning in closer and slowly removing her finger.

So many parts of you wanted to scream rejection, but as you feel her warmth, and her words you’ve dreamed. You could feel your blood rush and heat you up, feeling Ellie's body haze you, your mouth desperate and shaky.

"Kiss me, then." you tut.

Your lips met passionately, an automatic fight for dominance as the pace got hot. The thirst shared was unquenchable.

The personal echoes of each other's kisses smack as your hands got lost in her hair. Your fingers slightly tug onto her loose locks. Ellie's hands greedily rapturing you further into her body—till she couldn't; craving to feel every part of you.

You were lost into the feeling of Ellie's lips, her tongue swiping at your bottom lip as she's desperate to explore more of you.

Your bodies fiend for each other, one of your hands tugging on her muscle tank, and the other lowering from her hair. Ellie's hands roam from your waist, trilling at the feeling of you grazing her neck. She passes your hips till she reached thigh, and hiking it up onto her hip.

Ellie's grasps and grips onto the thick of your thigh, slowly dipping to cup the cheek of your ass. She sneaked a firm squeeze on your ass causing you to shriek, allowing her tongue to explore every crevice of your mouth.

Ellie giggled into the kiss at your muffled moans, amused by how she's effecting you. You push her off slightly, catching your breath. You were both left breathless while she kept eyes on each part of you.

Taking a step closer, reaching your hand out to caress her cheek. Indulged by the freckles painted into her as your thumb brushes her soft cheek. Slowly traveling your hand to her nape before coming around full circle, choking her, and pulling her chest to chest.

You smirk at the way her pupils dilatated. Ellie's mouth was agape, leaning in to lick a teasing swipe along her bottom and top lip. "I'm not your girlfriend." you state.

A soft quick squeeze on her neck causing a weak whine to fall from her lips. Oh, this was better than you imagined.

Ellie gripped your arm, pulling you around and into her chest. Walking you back, you felt your back eventually hit against her door with a hasty thud. Her tongue explored you, intertwining with your own as you sucked softly.

Each grope and wet lick electrified a craving in your stomach, pulsing into your arousal. She struggles with the doorknob, jiggling it open as her other hand held you. Ellie would never admit how soaked you get her.

Your needy grinds contra the pleasure dripping through her briefs as her lips learned every secret love spot within your precious body. You both tumbled onto her bed, not a care in the world besides this fervid momentum shared between you both.

Ellie toppled you, slowly lowering closer. Taking a chance to catch her by suprise, pulling her down with your leg hooked, and flipping her over. Now, you were on top.

Your lips quickly find their way to her clavicle, pecking, and licking alongside her neck. Almost ripping off her wife-beater while leaving open-mouthed kisses onto her shoulder. Continuing kissing down and around her exposed tits.

Your eyes switched watching her face and the way the cool air perked up her nipples. Ellie's back arched as you teased your teeth onto the plush above her tits, right above her sensitive erect nipples. you leave an array of hickeys, enjoying each squirm let out from under you.

This was your sweet revenge, her punishment for every time; she could've been with you, but wasn't.

You didn't stop tricking her with your tongue. Maneuvering down from fondling one of her tits, twiddling your finger around her nipple, and sliding into her loose sweats.

Your hand hasty as you reach the warmth of her panties, middle, and ring finger curve into the soaked patch that leaked through her panty. Thumb pushing up on her clit softly while Ellie turns her head laying head on the bed, watching you tease her; growing embarrassingly wet.

It was primal instinct, playing, and pushing for her weaknesses. You studied every small moan and squirm left form her body. Your fingers continuously circle her clit through her panties. She was quick to spread her legs for you, allowing you access.

Ellie's tits perked and red by your teeth and feverish sucking. You kept finger firm, pressing down onto her covered clit as the fabric of her soppy panty rubbed into her, pulling her panty to the side, coating your two fingers with her slick.

Ellie's chest heaves with a loud moan as her thighs tremble. You watch her struggle to reach up and stop your arm. She was on the border of giving in and still anxious for control.

She grips onto your wrist, slimed finger following down to her vulnerable entrance, toying with her, torturously. You kiss and lick your way back up, meeting her berried lips.

Your middle finger pushes into her, curving upward, and enticing her walls which immediately knocked a desperate strangled moan out of Ellie, throwing her head back.

The sound of her slick swirl and smack within gliding in and out of her whetted pussy brought you a gluttonous satisfaction. Her addictive cries encouraged another finger to join your soaked middle, stretching her out completely. Ellie’s grown in nail tips dug into your incensed flicking wrist.

Ellie on a frenzy of choked whines and unstable string of moans, "Gah-fuck me!".

You admire the work you've sucked onto her body. A fleeced giggle leaves your lips as you plant feathered kisses onto her cheeks, "Already am, baby" You murmured.

The pace you fucked her with was exquisite, your fingertips fluttering against her g-spot as they plunge deeper. Quickening your thrusts with every squelch given by Ellie’s gushed pussy. She held her mouth agape, allowing yourself to dive your tongue in, swallowing her lewd noises.

Ellie clenches around you, her pussy guzzling every inch of your thickened fingers. You could feel and hear her heartbeat pound against your smushed chests, "Ya'like it? like how it feels, honey?" Your question was coy, sliding your fingers fourth, pressing your tips verse her walls.

"Ah! yes, fuck, fuck yes!—I'm gonna'—" Lecherous shrieks fell from her lips as you help ride out her orgasm. Your fingers relentless in her pussy, juicing itself around your fingers; coating your fingers.

"Let it out, Els", You start to praise into her ear, "I know you've been dying too."

Your coo finishes her off with a loud grunt as you pull out your lustered up fingers. Without looking or a second thought, your free hand grabbed Ellie's jaw and attempted to focus her dazed vision to watch you.

Both of your eye's leer into each other as you plop your fingers into your mouth, coming sucking off her cum with a pop.

Ellie's eyes turned dark, her lids hazed, and hooded.

Slowly lifting yourself and shifting your hips below her stomach, Ellie was quick with her movements, flipping you over, and trapped under her. The feeling of her hands running up and down your clothed body, leaning down your ear, “Time, I took all this off…” She weakly whispers as she hovers over you.

Your body was completely sprawled onto her navy-blue sheeted bed with your arms raised above your head, and her knee pushing into your clothed heat. Mimicking your exact position, each sloppy kiss was followed by a piece of clothing being thrown off.

Seconds. How quick it was for you to be in nothing but your panties. Ellie’s kisses were precise and every nonverbal praise by the unconscious grind of your hips and bit-back whines.

She flows herself between your legs, pulling each one onto her shoulders as her lips pecked from your thighs till, she met your damped panty. "You had your fun," She started muttering into you.

"Only fair if I have mine, right mama?" Ellie cocks her head to the side, meeting your eyes before biting your panty-lining and proceeding to hike down your panties with her teeth.

Your eyes peered into her, watching the way she intently focused every part of you. She kissed every beauty mark that was blessed up your body. The feeling of her breath inching closer to your dewed pussy-lips; arching your back in temptation.

You thread your fingers throughout her hair, tugging slightly. You were no longer challenging her, giving complete submission to Ellie.

She watches the way arousal drips from your slit; her hands massaged the goosebumps perking the hairs on you. Ellie couldn't believe she was granted with such a divine privilege, drooling at the thought.

Ellie kitten-licked the delicious nectar that trickled, her tongue dragging flat against your pussy, and licking up your pulpy clit. Indulging in every moment spent between your legs with every keen lick trailed across your heat.

An inflamed jolt seeds through your spine, your entire body to thrash further into the bed as you cry out, "Ah!—Fucking god!" Your pleasure enthralling you to your ankles.

The wet smacking from her saliva coated sucks mixed with your core's elation. A train of vulgar slob laps your pussy while she gets lost in between your furred lips and swallowing you up, “It ain’t god, baby.” Smirking at your sensual vulnerability.

The tone she used was condescendingly sweet. Trembling your legs and jerking your hips which pushed Ellie’s head further into your pussy as the heel of your foot digs into her shoulder, and hands wrestling through her brunette locks.

Your head was thrown back in tempestuous joy, “Mmph! Ellie!—so fucking good!” Ellie’s tongue danced on your clit before making her way towards your soppy entrance.

Pure ecstasy marauded its way up and through your internal, tightening your abdomen. Every strike of her tongue inched closer to cumming all over her. You felt your hips cramp as you try to push Ellie off, backing away desperately.

You struggled, meekly crying out, "F-fuck! stop! stop!" Ellie immediately pulled away with wide eyes. She looked up at you alarmed, "Did I hurt you?!" her tone sincere and worried as she got up, standing above you.

Trying to catch your breath, sweat glistening your naked body. You lean up on your elbows to look at her, "Get on the bed..." your voice was breathless and clear. Ellie walks over slowly, hovering next to you on the empty side of the bed while licking the corners of her lips deviously.

Ellie leans over, her hand threading through your messy hair as she kissed you ferociously. Tasting yourself on her tongue as your own greedily twirled around her mouth. Both of your tongues swirl around each other as your arms find their way around Ellie's body.

You pull away from her lips, "Put your pussy on me." you sulk, regaining your strength.

"Aren't you charming." She jokes out sarcastically and smirking, "Oh, just sit on my face." you huff with a fun grin.

Just like that, Ellie turns around, holding herself up onto your thighs. Your hands run through the back on her thighs till you made your way to her ass, fondling, and squeezing her plush flesh. Mouth’s salivating at each other.

Ellie lets out a gratifying groan as your tongue swipes her sensitive slits, twirling around her hole and thumb circling her clit. Arching herself down onto you more while leveling herself in-between your thighs, leaving sloppy opened kisses on your pussy.

Your stomach bubbles up lewdly, chasing after her swirling tongue within the impatient trial to get her to cum all over your face. The mix of each other's nibbles and starved slurps, propelling bodies together as your legs convulsed and her own thighs shook with inched erotica.

You feel your orgasm coarse and itch closer as Ellie continues to drag between your slits. Starting to move faster, hips grinding against your face. Ellie is soon following close behind, both of you moaning and panting while reaching each other’s simultaneous climax.

A string of choked out moans bouncing off her white walls, “Don-Don’t stop!” you gasp out before closing your mouth around her clit.

Continuous harmony between both of your moans as you both cum all over each other, creaming your faces.

You and Ellie lay in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow. Eyes dozed, sweaty bodies entwined, and sharing a first tender moment of silence.

You lifted your nuzzled head from the crook of her neck, breaking the silence.

“I don't want you to touch anyone besides me.” Voice hoarse and clearer than ever.

“I dont want to ever see anyone besides you.”

A/N: I FEEL BEYOND GRATEFUL FOR REACHING 1k WHILE I WAS GONE 🥹 i thought it was about time i post cus i finally feel like ? confident ? i spent most of my time if it wasn’t personal life duty, id be writing a bunch of self indulgent fictions (THIS WAS ONE OF THEM LOL) and practicing and differentiating my writing style to my liking.

THANK YOU SO MUCH GENUINELY IT MEANS THE WORLD! i cant wait to continue :)

dolls-taglist̗̀➛ @marsworlddd @cosmopolitanaut @elliewilliamsgirl3 @elliewilliamgfooc @graviewaviee @yourelliewillms @elliesgf1244 @deliriousrn @yondaimekazzy @moonyvs4 @tearouthearts @ride4els @colecassidysfav @theoraekenslover @localorphanage @starmoon333

updated taglist link here! (other was corrupted)

[mockerycrow]

HELLO the biggest congrats on 4k, you absolutely deserve that and so many more!!!

Could I see a female!reader x Ghost with the prompt:“I had a nightmare . . . can I stay with you tonight?”

TY and yet again, congratulations 🤍🤍🤍

REASSURANCE (Ghost x Fem!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

authors note; thank you so much anon <3 i hope you enjoy!

[WARNINGS; not proofread (like most of my fics), silent panic attack + light dissociation, implied you’ve never seen his face, hurt/comfort.]

You know Ghost has nightmares—everyone knows Ghost has nightmares. No one really wants to talk about it because he doesn’t, but everyone has seen the man up at ungodly hours of the night, or perhaps beating the absolute shit out of a punching bag at the on-base gym.

No one except for Price knows what Ghost’s been through, but no one really questions him. It’s unrealistic to think Ghost is the only one waking up due to their dreams—even Price does on the occasion. What Ghost doesn’t do is ask for help.

You had a weird gut feeling about tonight; you weren’t really restless, but you weren’t tired. Every time you laid down to try to get some sleep, your eyelids would slowly open back up. You tried multiple methods; white noise, thinking about nothing, thinking about a story, taking a sleep remedy—nothing.

You had a weird tightness in your stomach that you couldn’t shake. It’s no big deal, you’ve had several nights like this. Nights where you stay up, half expecting something to happen. You aren’t sure if its the military-esque anxiety flaring up, expecting an attack of some sort or if it’s just one of those nights.

You’re laying in bed, trying to think of what you have to do tomorrow. Might as well try to think of something useful, right? Let’s see, you have to do morning training and then you have to eat, brief with price, it’s your turn to help the armourer—the weapons master, you like to say to piss them off—and you also have to do paperwork.

A very tame evening, you think, avoiding the Q word everyone oh so desperately hates; including yourself. Because the second you say it, you’re going to be called by Laswell, or General Shepherd, or some other CIA federal agent bureaucrat about some fucking thing that’s happening in the god forsaken world that only, and only task force 141 can handle—

—Someone knocks on your door, breaking your disorganized thoughts. Your eyebrows furrow; no one should be up, maybe Price is, or Ghost. Did you forget some paperwork? You sit up, slip your slides on your feet, and you walk to the door. You unlock the door and open it, wincing from the bright light of the hallway pouring in, and you’re met with the large figure of Ghost.

You blink, unsurprised. “Hey.” You utter. “Did I wake you?” God, Ghost sounds rough. It sounds like he garbled glass—er, maybe that isn’t the nicest way to describe one of your superiors voices right now. It’s clear he just woke up. You shake your head in response, stepping aside. “Here, come in. It’s bright.”

Ghost silently obeys, stepping inside of your room. You close the door and head over to your desk. You feel around in the darkness until you feel your lamp and you click a button, turning it on, illuminating the room just enough for you to see Ghost. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey sweatpants with one of his black, long-sleeve compression tops to go with it.

He’s wearing a basic black balaclava without the iconic skull, but.. His eyes are different. Distant and weary, cautious—panicked almost. Your eyebrows furrow together as his broad shoulders are tense, fists clenched.

“Ghost..” You call softly. He seems far away—he needs your help. “Ghost.” You say more insistently and louder, noticing the way his chest is barely moving. “Ghost, hey, can y’hear me? You need to take a breath..” You murmur, slowly approaching him.

He’s frozen but you see how his eyes flicker towards you, taking a moment realize where he is. You offer a soft smile you always show him and you nod. “There you are, big guy. Can I touch you?” You make sure to ask because you never know; a soldier during a flashback, touching them? That can be fatal—you trust Ghost as you don’t think he would ever hurt you, but you never know a person.

It takes him a moment to nod, which makes you promptly and gently grab his wrists. You gently guide him to your bed, and you sit him down. You’re nervous—you’re about to calm him down in one of the only ways you know how to, but you’re worried about the consequences you’ll receive afterwards. Oh well, you don’t care, not when Ghost’s eyes are as unfocused as they are.

The bed dips under his weight and you gently spread his legs, standing between them. You grab his arms; they’re deadweight, but his eyes flicker some recognition, allowing you to guide his arms around your waist. You guide his head to lay against your stomach, your hands cradling his masked jaw and the back of his neck.

Ghost takes in a harsh, shuddery breath which makes you hum in approval. “There you go, Ghost. Breathe, you’re alright.” You say in a mellow manner, your thumb brushing over his masked cheek. Ghost takes in another harsh breath as his arms tighten around you. You continue to try to ground him, talking and praising him for his efforts to stay calm. You know he isn’t in the right mind, but you’re still shocked he’s allowed you to touch him for as long as you have.

Something in your gut unravels as Ghost pulls his head away ever so slightly, ripping his mask off and throws it away like it was constricting his breathing. He buries the side of his face back into your stomach, taking you by surprise. Your met with his blonde hair in the low light, your heart stuttering.

You hesitate only for a moment before you bury a hand in his hair on the back of his head, your other hand returning to his jaw, your heart hammering as you note he has stubble as well as something on his skin, like deep scar tissue.

Ghost lets out a noise which you quickly hum in response. “It’s okay, let it out.. Won’t tell anyone about this, okay?” You assure him, causing another noise to escape him, almost like a laugh. “Kinda hard t’do that when a pretty girl is comfortin’ you.” He croaks, his voice broken—both his voice and sentence making your brain short circuit. You laugh in return, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Shush,” You murmur. “Just relax.”

Ghost nods against your stomach, shakily exhaling. You stay like that for a while; neither of you are sure for how long, and neither of you care. You’re enjoying the rare vulnerability Ghost is displaying, and he’s enjoying the grounding touch you’re currently providing him. The silence is comforting as you comb your fingers through his hair, and you enjoy the weight of his head and his arms.

“I had a nightmare…” Ghost utters. You hold your breath as he looks up at you, and oh god, he’s hot. “..Can I stay with you tonight?” You’re mesmerized by the way his nose is curved—clearly has been broken a couple of times and wasn’t reset right—by the way his eyebrows are furrowed, his big, beautiful brown eyes.. You nearly forget to respond. “Yes,” You push out, resisting the urge to reach up and rub the tension between his brows. “Always.”

[provide-milk]

Ford Pines NSFW Alphabet

!Minors do not interact with!

Inspired by @roolette and their Johnny Cage NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Didn’t know anything about aftercare at first. He seemed to be deep in thought after everytime you guys first had sex (he would still be in the middle of processing everything that happened). It annoyed you how silent he was after finishing.

“How was it?” You would ask as you scooched closer to him on the bed.

“Good.” He would mumble, staring at the ceiling (that post nut clarity getting to him).

But now He enjoys every second of you, giving you kisses all over your body and always making sure he has a towel. He spoons you from behind, giving you pecks on your neck. “That was great dear. I didn’t know you were so flexible.” He’d say in a teasing manner. “Oh shut up Ford.” You’d smile. He loved those tender moments after sex, whispering about different things and holding onto one another.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Used to hate his fingers. Emphasis on the ‘used to,’ That is before he watched the way you kiss each of his fingers and sensually put them in your mouth, while making eye contact with you. He loves how much you love them, especially how you compliment how good they feel inside you and how he’s able to find just the right spots to have you screaming his name (come on, have you seen the way that man handles a dice). As for you, he loves every part of you, but especially your thighs. When you guys are sitting down together at a restaurant, he’ll squeeze your thigh under the table, causing you to accidentally kick the person in front of you. He swears he could die a happy death between your thighs (we’ll get back to this at letter O..).

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

He was terrified of the idea of accidentally cumming inside you, always making sure to wear a condom. But one day he finally gave into your pleas. “Ford, please. I’m on the pill. It’ll be fine.” He sighed, “I suppose we can try it one time.” After that he was addicted to it. Always begging to cum inside you and making sure to fuck every last bit of it inside you. Sometimes he’d pull out and watch it drip out of you, forcing it back inside with his fingers. It felt like he was claiming you as his own which he loved the feeling of. That you were his and his only.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Secretly loves the age gap (much to his chagrin). Something about a pretty, young thing like you being head over heels for him only added to his ego. He’d ask you, “Why don’t you date guys your own age?” “Because they can’t do the things you do to me.” He loved hearing your answers. Once his discomfort about the age difference goes away, he’s bragging about you constantly. You feel like a prize to him that he needs to show off. During a rough session, the words, “You perverted old man. You like fucking me, knowing that I’m half your age.” You could feel Ford’s dick twitch inside you. “Did you actually like it when I said that?” You’d ask after. “Let’s talk about something else…” He’d respond, avoiding eye-contact with you.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Not experienced, basically a virgin which shocked you to no end . But man, does he learn fast. He observes exactly what gets you going and writes it down in a journal (for research only of course..). Starts off shy at first, constantly looking for reassurance that he’s doing a good job, but once he’s got it down he quickly becomes more confident and a little bit cocky too. The fact he can make you squirt now is still a high he hasn’t come down from. You start to wonder where that innocent man went when he’s hitting all the right spots, making you scream out his name.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

He absolutely loves cowgirl. His back sometimes hurts after hours of pouring over his journals. Being able to lay back and watch your erotic expressions while you take the lead turns him on to no end. He’d hold onto your waist, his fingers almost leaving six bruises on your torso, thrusting into you once you started losing momentum, loving the way you threw your head back and let out a loud moan. Once while cleaning, you found a detailed drawing in his notebook of you naked, riding him, your face twisted in pleasure. You flipped the pages to see nothing but similar content, but in other positions with little notes on what he noticed turned you on the most during your session.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Not a big fan of jokes in bed, thinks you’re laughing at him if you start to giggle at a joke that comes to your mind. One way to get him to be rougher with you is to tell him a joke while you guys are going at it. Will immediately manhandle you and start fucking you into oblivion until you completely forget what you even said. Will make sure to keep a serious face even if he does find it funny. He finds that it ruins the mood. “Don’t say stuff like that while we’re doing this.” He’d grumble. “Or else what?” With a response like that you were definitely willing to not be able to walk right for the next few days.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He doesn’t shave unless you ask him to, which he doesn’t very often because he knows you love his happy trail. He argues shaving takes too much time away from his research. Doesn’t mind if you don’t shave either, he couldn’t care less. During the beginning of your relationship, if he wanted to have sex and you didn’t shave you would feel slightly uncomfortable about it, telling him awkwardly. Once you got the reply, “You think that’s gonna stop me?”, the embarrassment quickly went away.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Things can get rough with Ford, but he still makes sure to treat you like a goddess. Giving you kisses all over your body and praising you the whole time. “Despite all the dimensions I’ve been in, you by far are the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.” Somedays, he just wants to be as slow and tender with you as possible, fully enjoying just how much of a safespace you’ve become to him. During times like those he loves missionary so he can be as close to you as possible and indulge in every one of your lustful expressions.

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

Prefers not to and would rather just have you get him off instead. But sometimes, as he’s looking through the erotic art that he’s drawn of you, while he’s alone in the lab, he can’t help it. He definitely wouldn’t tell you unless you asked and he would get very embarrassed by his answer.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He has definitely asked you if you could cosplay as one of his favorite science fiction, fantasy, or Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons characters. For his birthday you decided to surprise him, dressed as an elven princess with the gown and all. His jaw basically dropped the moment he saw you waiting for him in your guys’ shared bed. It was like his college wet dreams came true in that moment and he was on you in almost seconds.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

His desk has become one of the most common place that Ford fucks you.It feels all so spontaneous and somewhat rebellious each time. You’ll be sitting on his lap in his chair and suddenly you’re getting manhandled onto the desk, with him shoving everything to the side to make space for you. If he’s feeling particularly rough, he’ll bend you over the desk. Only negative is that now Ford has difficulty focusing at times at his desk because that’s all his mind is thinking of. But Ford does love how intimate it gets when you both are in your shared bed. It would have to be a tie for him.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Anything you do. Could be something entirely random and immediately he’s turned on and ready to go. Come on, here’s a man who hasn’t been touched hardly at all his whole life. Once you come into his life and become physical with him there’s no going back. A slight brush of the hands and he’s grabbing it, whispering in your ear all the dirty things he wants to do to you. Sometimes you’ll be doing something like liking the cream off your lips from a cake or bending over to grab something and Ford is making his way over to whisper something absolutely obscene in your ear, causing you both to start getting handsy with one another immediately.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Not a fan of extreme bdsm. You’ve asked him to slap you before but you decided that it would only be something you can dream about when you saw how uncomfortable he looked at the thought. Sure, he’s down for light bdsm, like tying you up, maybe calling you a few names (depends on how he’s feeling), spanking, and being a bit rougher than usual. But things such as knife play are a big no to him, even though he does like the taste of blood… He would just be too worried that he was going to hurt you in a negative way or go too far.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

It is very rare for Ford to turn down a blowjob. He especially loves to cumming all over your face and tries to memorize the sight to draw later. But man, could he spend hours between your thighs. This man eats you out like he’s starving. He loves to hear the sounds you make which rile him up even more so. It took him a little bit to get the gist of it, but after some practice (which you were more than happy to teach him how) he became a pro at it. When you pull at his hair and squeeze your thighs tight around his face he swears he could cum right there and sometimes he has.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually it starts off slow and sensual. With soft kisses and loving compliments. But somehow it tends to get rough halfway through. Whether it be a slight comment you make or his possessive side kicking in, he can get lost in the moment and the next thing you know you feel like you just ran a full marathon. But you love it, watching his primal instincts kick in and his uptight self disappearing.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You've had many quickies in his lab before to the point it has become a weekly occurrence or even more sometimes. He definitely enjoys them and it’s a great way for him to let off steam when he’s been at his work for hours straight.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

As someone who has spent decades traveling between multiple dimensions, of course he’s down to do some risky things. At first he was pretty nervous. “Are you sure this is a good idea, love?” He’d ask, looking around nervously. But once his confidence in sex grew, so did his confidence in experimenting. It was even his idea to have sex in the Stanmobile once when Stan gave him the keys to get some groceries (of course this is a secret the two of you planned on dying with).

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

In the beginning, he did not last very long. Sometimes cumming just by pleasuring you without even getting touched. But this grew with time and for someone at his age, you were surprised by how much of a sex drive this man has. You guys have been able to go at it for a couple of hours before. You both are usually willing to go a few rounds if you’re doing it in bed.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

You decided to bring toys into the bedroom one day and Ford was not much of a fan. At a certain point he just threw the toy to the side. “Ford! What are you doing? I paid good money for that?” “I’d rather be the one touching you.” He grumbled. It hurts his self esteem to watch you get pleasured by something that isn’t directly him. But he didn’t mind the handcuffs you bought. Whether that be you or him being handcuffed it doesn’t matter to him (which you think has something to do with Bill changing him up).

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Can be a tease. Sometimes you’ll just be minding your own business and Ford will come up to you and whisper something dirty in your ear and tell you all the things he plans on doing to you. But then he’ll get so occupied in his work that he’ll forget what he even said. “So Ford… About what you said in the kitchen..” You said seductively. “What did I say?” He’d asked confused, his eyes not leaving his journal as he writes. “Nevermind..” “Dear?” “I said nevermind..” He’d just look at you confused before going back to his writing.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Definitely vocal, lots of moaning and grunting from him, as well as dirty talk. He tries to keep it down, but when you’re riding him or sucking him off it’s nearly impossible for him not to make noises, even if he’s biting his lip to stop himself. He even moans while eating you out which only adds to the pleasure. He whines every now and then and looks mortified each time. You make sure to tease him after which he responds by pretending not to know what you’re talking about. You both can be pretty loud which is why you’re thankful that most of the sex you have is away in his lab.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

You were surprised by just how possessive he is. He loves to mark you with hidden bite marks and hickeys, loving when they peak out every now and then. If anyone flirts with you or stares at you in public, he will pull you by the waist closer to you, a frown on his face and that’s when you know you’re gonna be up for a long night. You bought a necklace with his name on it and he gets hard just thinking about you wearing it.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

When it comes to length, he’s average size. But he makes up for it in girth and the slight angle to it which hits just the right spots. You didn’t know if you could fit him all in your mouth when you first saw it. As for the color, the tip is the same color as his nose.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

As I’ve said before, anything you do can turn him on, meaning that he’s down to have sex most of the time. This of course was unexpected to you and the seemingly innocent facade he had at the beginning has been completely shed and now he’s pretty vocal when he wants to fuck, which is pretty frequently. You swear that the first time you guys kissed is when you opened the floodgates and there was no going back after that. Of course, if you are not in the mood he will respect that.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Takes him a bit to fall asleep because he struggles with insomnia. Waits for you to fall asleep first before he can fully relax. He’ll play with your hair as you drift off and kiss the top of your head. Has a habit of holding onto you tight to the point that sometimes you can hardly move, this due to his fear of something happening to you that he feels the need to protect you even in his sleep. Ford’s a pretty light sleeper, so if you do move he will feel it and wake up pretty quickly.

[augustinewrites]

you should absolutely add naoya to the story!!!! i would LOVE some drama between gojo and that loserrrr i just know they hate each other so MUCH

useful context for this fic can be found in three conditions!

"'salt to taste,'" satoru reads, already confused. "what the hell does that even mean?"

tuesdays are always his day to cook dinner - meaning the second you smell something burning, you kick him out of the kitchen to take over - but you'd left about left twenty minutes ago to pick the kids up from karate, so he's on his own.

shrugging, he pours a questionable amount of salt into the bowl of vegetables he's been attempting to season.

after tossing in the rest of the spices, the next step is to cook over medium-high heat. so he flicks the stove on, leaning against the counter as he waits for the pan to heat up.

that's when a knock sounds at the door.

he doesn't move, hoping whoever it is just gives up and goes away. he wasn't expecting any guests, and the backup food he'd ordered shouldn't be arriving for another half hour.

but whoever it is bangs on the door this time, clearly impatient and wanting to get on his nerves.

huffing, he flicks the stove off and stomps to the door, yanking it open.

"you've gotta be fucking kidding me."

"still as uncouth as ever, i see," naoya zenin scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"and you're still as ugly as i remember," he fires back. "no wait— uglier."

that gets the reaction satoru's hoping for, naoya scowling as he says. "seems the rumours are true. my dear relative's run away to become a gojo whore."

satoru barely manages to keep his hands off the blond's throat, because killing him would start an all out war with the zen'ins, and he isn't ready to make waves (yet).

it wouldn't take much force to just put his head through the wall, would it?

"just tell me what you want so i can say no," he says instead, voice fighting to remain steady.

god, he hates the smug look on his face as he asks, "how much do you want?"

"excuse me?"

"how much do you want," he repeats slowly, as if he were talking to a particularly stupid animal. "for her. and the fushiguro boy."

it takes satoru a moment to realize what exactly he's asking for, the request so outlandish that he can hardly believe it. "how much do i— you're insane."

he goes to slam the door, but naoya is quick to catch it.

"it's only right that they should be with their family, don't you think?"

"and that's you?"

"if we're being sentimental about it, yes."

"well, they're not for sale," he says firmly, removing his sunglasses and tucking them into his pocket. every molecule of restraint is quickly leaving his body. "nor will they ever be. now leave."

stupid as he is, naoya senses the thinly veiled threat and turns on his heel, satoru keeping his eyes trained on him until he disappears down the hall.

_____

"naoya stopped by."

"what did he want?" you ask, lips already pulled down into a frown as you take another dish to dry.

"you and megumi."

"of course he does," you sigh, setting the plate aside and resting your palms on the counter "they want ten shadows."

"what are we going to do?" he asks seriously. "what if next time they don't ask?"

"there's not much we can do right now," you tell him grimly. "it’s the zen’in clan, satoru. we just need to keep our heads down and focus on getting megumi into jujutsu tech. at least he won't be so vulnerable with all of us around—”

“hey, hey,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours. “i’m not going to let anything happen to you both. you know that, right?”

“i know,” you smile, kissing the tip of his nose. “that’s why i’m not suggesting we’ve halfway across the world.”

“that’s not a bad idea. we could move somewhere hot and tropical. i’d get to see you in a swimsuit almost everyday…”

“you’d get sunburnt,” you correct, laughing as he nudges his face into the crook of your neck.

“i’d happily let myself get sunburnt if it meant you were safe,” he murmurs into your skin. “the kids would probably eviscerate me if i let anything happen to you.”

“of course they would. they’d starve otherwise.”

[aarafox]

I've been playing the last 5 min of the ep on loop for more than an hour and holy shit. I have so much to talk about.

At first Blitz’s attitude towards Stolas reclaiming the book is understandable, from a business POV: he needs the book to perform his job! It makes sense he gets a little desperate, tries to keep up the bargain, begs for Stolas to rethink.

But then. Then Stolas gives him the crystal, in one of the sweetest ways possible.

Like a marriage proposal.

The crystal is supposed to be everything Blitz wants, because, supposedly, fucking Stolas is just part of the deal… in any other situation, with any other person, he would’ve been like sure! Cool, thanks :)

But not for a single second he looks happy with this. We all know it’s because deep down he feels the same way… But he gets upset, worried, afraid. From the get-go.

And Stolas is telling him the loveliest things. He’s pouring his absolute heart out. I don’t think I expected him to tell Blitz exactly how he feels but he does. Just like in his texts, he’s completely honest with him:

“Blitz, I’m giving you this because… I care... VERY deeply for you. And I have for some time.”

How he places the crystal on his wrist like a ring on a fiancée’s finger. This is Stolas’ absolute biggest gesture of love. He’s setting Blitz free! From this transactional thing… That’s what Blitz wants… right?

“I want you to continue to… be who you are. Your business!” This was such a kind thing to say. In his eyes, Blitz is perfect as he is and I wonder how often - perhaps if ever - Blitz has heard something like this. The music reflects Stolas’ honesty and affection, the soft and beautiful melody that we know so well… This is Stolas’ big moment, his declaration of love.

“You don’t have to stay here with me... But... I want you to. I want you to stay here with me. Because you want to. Only if you want to.”

And honestly… the shock on Blitz’ face when Stolas says that first line (the "you don't have to stay" one):

Like seriously?? Biggest shock so far? Blitz doesn’t want to separate from Stolas! He wants to stay with him! But when Stolas reveals his truth… that he wants Blitz to stay because Blitz himself wants to and not for any deal or arrangement…

And Blitz, who still can’t believe someone could genuinely love him, responds in the only way he thinks he should: in their “business language”, the language of sex. Because he cannot let the truth sink into his heart.

Of course this hurts Stolas, for whom this reaction is only proof that his feelings are unrequited. If Blitz can’t respond to him in any other way than this, there’s little chance he feels the same…

And still, he is so so kind:

“Thank you Blitz. For… awakening me. For making me… so happy… if only for a little while.”

He was trapped in an unhappy, abusive marriage for so long and Blitz saved him from that. Thanks to Blitz, Stolas had a chance to find out who he was, change his life for the better, and experience true happiness. But if Blitz can’t give Stolas what he needs emotionally, then this is where it has to end.

And Blitz retaliates in the only way he knows how: self-protection. He doesn’t want this to end, but he also never expected Stolas to feel genuine love for him. He HAS no time to think about this, in his eyes Stolas is ending this on his own terms. But he doesn’t have the full words; he hasn’t faced his own feelings and, if he can’t even be genuine with himself, how can he be genuine with Stolas?

But his words, that he’s saying partly because he truly believes them but likely also because he wants to protect himself from the pain, cut Stolas like knives. Stolas flinches when Blitz calls him "asshole" and "bitch":

Blitz's words... shatter his heart.

Stolas has been on the receiving end of hate for a long time. But to hear this from the one he loves so much... It's simply too much to handle. So he sends Blitz away.

As Blitz’s apology still echoes through the air.

[maikissed]

the way you come to me at night IV

I'M BACK FROM THE DEAD OH GOD This is so fucking long, fr. It probably needs a lot of fixes but I just wanted to post already. Sorry for any misspellings and typos guys. Love yall. Enjoy!!!

warnings: smut, kids under 18 go away

They grew quite distant in the past few weeks. He’s been acting like an absolute dick and she gave up in her attempts to try and get the answer about his sulky mood out of him. It was frustrating, to say the least, for both of them.

She excruciatingly felt his absence. He was leaving to the training earlier than usual, coming back home late and locking himself in the gym, his room or the office when she was present at home. Of course she’s been trying to talk to him about his sudden behaviour but he just kept dodging off the questions, telling her that it’s just tiredness and stress related to his recurrent injuries. He felt like a coward, just couldn’t bring himself to actually talk to her. Couldn’t muster up the honesty. It started to consume him. And it kept getting worse.

She was being patient with him at the beginning. Gave him space and time to open up to her - they were good friends after all, always shared their worries, talked about everything that was going on in their lives. She didn’t understand why he shut her out all of a sudden. But her attitude towards him changed dramatically after one morning, when she unexpectedly run into one of his one-night stands in the kitchen. He never brought girls to the house when she was at home, out of respect to her. It was also kind of their deal. But one day she came home earlier from her work trip and it just happened. He will never forget the hurt look on her face that morning. She stopped talking to him at all after that. And he hated himself more.

He's been watching the raging storm outside through the big windows, staying on the settee for quite some time now. The weather was rather strange for this time of the year, the pleasantly warm day turned into a downpour before the sunset. The aura of the heavy rain became so calming, it made him absolutely enraptured in the dense veil of running water that covered almost everything in sight. The house was quiet, making the sound of the pouring rain sound like the most soothing lullaby and he truly enjoyed it, rather tired of the hubbub he liked to surround himself most of the time. But this peaceful moment was suddenly interrupted by a loud slam of the door and he turned his head in the direction of the hallway, awaiting the appearance of whoever made so much stir about entering the house. In a minute he heard her huff in annoyance from the distance and tensed, preparing himself for another wordless and bitter moment whenever they were passing each other in the hallways. By the sound of the quick and heavy footsteps he could tell that something had upset her. But he didn’t expect the sight that he met the moment she vigorously entered the salon. She stopped abruptly, as if not expecting him to be home at this hour. He took in her appearance, completely soaked, her hair in a wet mess, sticking to her face and her long delicate dress clinging to her body tightly. She looked like she just fell into a pool fully clothed. And she seemed furious.

“What happened?” he frowned concerned.

She just huffed again and turned to head upstairs with no intention to answer him.

“Y/n?” he called out after her but there was yet no response.

So he decided to follow her without a thought, sincerely worried about her fidgety humour. She almost slammed the door in his face but he caught it in time.

“Can you leave?!” she raised her voice at him and he scrunched his eyebrows, taken aback.

During the few years of their friendship he’s never seen her so agitated but there clearly was a strong reason behind her behaviour. He wasn’t planning on leaving her room before trying to find out what’s made her so angry.

“Can you tell me what’s going on? Where’s your car?” he asked looking out the window, noticing that the vehicle was nowhere near the yard.

“In hell” she grumbled throwing her purse on the floor “Go away, I need to change”

He nodded simply at her demanding tone, deciding to give her space since she truly looked frustrated and uncomfortable due to her current state. Maybe if she calm down, she’ll talk to him later. But it was doubtful, since the conversation between them has been fading lately.  

He went to his room and it was a few minutes before she burst through the door. It surprised him, really. He looked at her expectantly.

“I can’t handle the zipper of this goddamn dress” she murmured stiffly “Could you help me? Please?”

He could tell she was jittery and mildly uneasy after asking for his help. His heart squished at the thought of what they have become in these past few weeks. The storm visible in her eyes was undeniably more dangerous that the one outside the walls of the house.

He approached her carefully, placing his fingers at the top of the dress. She shivered the moment their flesh made contact. He knew she must be cold, but couldn’t help but wonder if she despised him so. 

“You should take a warm bath” he noted unzipping the dress delicately.

She turned around to face him and he noticed her eyes becoming watery. And it scared him at first.

“You’re so concerned now?” a moment of silence “You barely talked to me for a whole month. Why do you even give a fuck?”

“Y/n…” he sighed but she was ready to pound on him with whatever she had in her.

“No, you’re not getting away with this shit anymore” she crossed her arms on her chest, shooting daggers at him with her keen eyes.

“Do you have any idea how it felt when I tried so hard to get to you and help with whatever you were struggling with this whole time? But you just kept dodging me off like a fucking narcissist you are!”

He shivered at the sound of her tone. She expected an explanation, a reason. But what should he do, what should he say? Feeling like a little boy he stood there, silent, paralyzed and noticed something dark pierce her eyes like a glimmer before she opened her mouth again.

“Tell me, did you find comfort in fucking your girls back again?” she scoffed.

She turned her head to the side, suddenly unable to look at him, as if surprised by her own words. Shame was all he felt in this moment. It did hurt her, all these things he’s been doing lately. The realisation flooded him in all-consuming regret. There was only one thing he should say to her right now, but it might not be enough anymore.

“It’s not like that” he countered weakly.

“I’ve been through some real crap these past few weeks and I didn’t even have anyone to talk about it” her voice turned weaker and she raised her head up to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks.

He twitched and moved on reflex, thinking about nothing else but to comfort her somehow. But she stepped back instantly, letting him know that she did not wish for him to come any closer. A sharp pain pierced his heart but he stopped nonetheless.

“My boss keeps scolding me for everything lately and my fucking car just stopped in the middle of nowhere, I had no signal in my phone and I had to walk for twenty fucking minutes in pouring rain to call the insurer only to hear that they’re not in service right now” she snorted “Then I had to wait another twenty minutes for a cab” she started rambling shakily, pulling off her soaked dress in frustration in the meantime. He watched her struggles in stupor.

“You could have called me” he said softly, trying to somehow make this situation a bit better.

Maybe it was a pathetic try.

She shot him a cold glare before throwing away the wet dress which landed at the floor with a loud smack. He trembled taking in her appearance – small, beautiful and broken.

“Fuck you” she spit, turning around to walk away but he got to her in few long strides, embracing her cold and shaken body in his arms. She yanked her arm, wanting to break free from his grasp.

But he was stronger.

“Stop it” he grabbed her tighter and she whined feeling helpless “I’m so sorry” he whispered holding her closely, but she did not return the gesture.

Although he could feel her becoming more relaxed.

“Please, let’s get you to a bath first” he whispered looking down at her.

She was avoiding the eye contact at first but when she finally looked up at his face, he noticed her eyes softening. The storm outside calmed as well. So he didn’t wait any longer and bend down placing his hand on the back of her knees to lift her up, carrying her to the bathroom. And she let him, softly placing her arms around his neck. It was a very fragile moment between them but it gave him some indefinite comfort. Hope, that maybe there’s still a chance to make things better, for him to be better for her. They were friends and they loved each other after all.

“Do you need anything?” he asked turning off the tap after filling up the tub, nervous after once again realising she stood in front of him so uncovered, only in her lingerie.

“Could you bring me some pills, please? My head hurts”

“Of course”

When he came back she was already sitting in the bathtub. Her eyes closed, hair still a bit wet tied in a bun on top of her head with a few untamed strands falling down her face. His beautiful, light-hearted girl, how could he treat her so badly?

She looked up at him with her reddened eyes, taking the medicine and the glass of water from his hands. He took it as a hint to leave her be but she stopped him unexpectedly.

“Stay with me for a bit?” she asked quietly and he tensed for a moment but nodded after all, thinking about all the things that still have been left unsaid.

She relaxed when he sat down at the bathtub step, resting her head against the edge of the tub. They stayed silent for a few moments, both of them focused on the sound of their steady breathing, looking the opposite way. It was comforting, this calm and wordless moment, and he was grateful it was given to him. He turned his head to look at her, noticing one more tear decorating her face and leaned in instinctively to wipe it away with his thumb. Her eyes widened slightly and her face contorted in that sweet frown that appeared on whenever she experienced something touching. He didn’t pull back, continuing caressing her cheek gently. He realised how intimate this moment has become, with their wistful eye contact, him leaning over her bare body covered only by a sheet of water overlaid with a thin soap foam. He was so spellbound by the soft contact of their skin he wanted to feel her whole. How overpowering this feeling was - he realised he’s been feeling it all this time. Exhausting.

“Estou apaixonado por você” the words simply left his mouth and he wasn’t even sure if he heard himself properly.

“What?” her voice cracked but she stayed still, examining his face.

“I am in love with you” he repeated in English, releasing a shaky breath “I didn’t know how to tell you, I was afraid that you’ll hate me for it. I guess I’ve chosen the worst way to deal with this, by distancing myself. I’m really sorry for that. But I don’t really remember the time when I wasn’t in love with you”

The room went silent once more but this time every second felt like it might not have an end, like everything stopped so suddenly. He wondered if this was the moment when he lost everything, ruining once and for all the picture she’s had of him so far.

“You’re such an idiot” she whispered calmly and he gulped nodding his head in agreement.

The water stirred when she moved slightly, leaning closer to where he was seated, his gaze desperately focused on her face.

“How do you know?” she kept her voice low and soft and the very little distance between them made him feel like he was trapped, even thought she was the one in a more vulnerable position.

“Know what?” he whispered back, not really understanding the question, absolutely stunned by the colour of her iris in this proximity. 

“That what you’re feeling is love”

He couldn’t fight the amused smirk that appeared on his lips instantly, feeling like she was playing some sort of silly game with him right now.

“You…” he winced fighting that heavy stubbornness which almost knocked him out, making him run away before explaining his feelings. She’d probably never forgive him if he did.

“I dream of you every night”

The look on her face was unreadable which made him even more nervous and anxious. But there was no turning back, it was time for her to see him truly - uncovered, sincere, with his heart on his sleeve. Everything just for her, because she deserved it.

“You’re the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last when I go to sleep, and then, when I close my eyes you’re there again. Every single night” he took a deep breath “I can’t think, I can’t eat, I can’t sleep enough” he leaned back after this confession, trying to calm his mercilessly beating heart “And you are so close, yet never close enough, and I feel like I’m going mad”.

He wiped his face with his hand feeling the sudden heat spreading over his skin and gave in the urge to look back at her shortly after, noticing she gazed at him the way she did in his dreams. Softly, misty and fondly. Cold chills went down his spine and he swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the heavy, stinging lump in his throat.

“Friends is not enough for me, I want all of you” he said more steadily this time “Tell me if I’m asking for too much”

She blinked quickly but never took her eyes away from him. And he was waiting, anticipating the moment she shatters his hearts in million tiny pieces. He could feel it coming. It had a taste, sour, at the tip of his tongue.

“I’ve never apologised to you after what happened last year” she murmured unsurely “I almost forced myself on you and I’ve never brought this up because I was ashamed” she looked down at her hands “I worried it made you think less of me”.

He took her hands in his without a word, trying to give her some comfort and assurance that nothing could make him look down on her. She opened her mouth and closed it, thinking, trying to pick her next words right. He stroked her knuckles with his thumbs, giving her a sign of understanding.

“Every relationship I’ve been in shattered, because I was so lost, so drowned in something so overpowering that it scared me sometimes” she closed her eyes for a second as if trying the give herself some courage “Everything feels… different when I’m with you, when I’m thinking about you…” she fell silent, her eyes started wandering but stopped focused on his lips. It was a moment before she brought them up again, staring right into his soul with her big, dreamy eyes “That’s why I kissed you that night and it only left me needing you even more” she took a shaky breath in, wincing lightly as if it caused her pain.

He placed his hand gently on her cheek, feeling as life finally came back to him with the hardest and warmest beat of his heart. His chest turned heavy and light at the same time, as if something started to grow in it. Hope and affection bloomed in his guts, and the permanent cold he’s been feeling for so long begun to fade away.

“Truth is I’ve always been yours” she whispered this time “I guess we’re both idiots”

He chuckled lightly and she smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with joy and tears. She put her palm on top of his hand still placed on her cheek, closing her eyes and leaning in the gentle touch. It elicited a short, longing moan from her and he sighed moving closer to her, placing a sweet kiss on her other cheek, then proceeded to stroke her nose with his. They stayed like this for a minute, simply enjoying their little moment of happiness, both of them relieved they’ve got to keep what they had and more. So much more.

She put her hands on his neck with her eyes still closed. He could feel them shaking slightly, either of nervousness or excitation. Or both. She turned her head placing her lips softly on top of his but it did not turn into a kiss right away. Again they stayed still, simply losing themselves in this sweet bit of being close to each other, breathing in themselves, thriving with a promise of a beautiful love that they’ve finally let to grow in and between them. She licked her lips and her tongue slightly brushed his upper lip and he twitched finally giving in, granting her a delicate, enduring kiss. She sighed and moved her head to the side to deepen it shortly after. Nothing could ever compare to this feeling, he thought. The room was filled with the sounds of the bubbles breaking in the water, their slow breathes and their lips, reconnecting in the slowest, gentlest of kisses. She gripped his nape tighter and he broke the contact.

“Are you trying to pull me in the tub?” he murmured jokingly and she giggled against his lips.

“I’ll leave you so you can finish your bath” he suggested, not truly ready to let go of her so soon.

“No, I think I’m done actually. Pass me the towel, please?”

He stood up to grab it and froze in place after turning around again, seeing her absolutely naked and so wet in front of him. His eyes shamelessly roamed her whole body slowly, focusing on how the drops of water flowed down her skin, tracing every curve, flowing faster every time she took another breath. And he was out of breath, feeling his limbs growing weaker and his chest tighter, absolutely mesmerized by her presence. And she was even more ethereal than in his dreams. She smiled sweetly at him and his knees almost gave up.

“Richy, the towel” she reminded him.

He nodded, feeling flustered, approaching her on shaky legs. He was considering his next move, but decided on wrapping her body in the cloth. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him once more, her hands placed on his biceps.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” she asked innocently and he needed a moment to actually respond to her.

“Of course, querida”

She smiled again after his response and steeped away to go to her room, leaving him stupefied and overwhelmed. He was endlessly in love with her and entirely bound to her wants and needs.

He decided to take a shower as well before joining her in her room, her bed. She asked him to sleep with her, it had more than just one meaning and he couldn’t stop thinking about how she looked after steeping out of the bath. He didn’t want to rush things up too soon if she wasn’t ready for it. Maybe they have to take it as slow as they should. But she wanted to share a bed with him. And this thought made him so excited, his stomach started turning funnily. He felt like a teenager.

She was brushing her hair when he entered her room, bearing a few snacks since she haven’t got anything to eat after she came back home.

“Is that for me?” she walked up to him snatching a strawberry from the plate.

Once again, he needed a moment to respond, too focused on a short, silky nightdress she was wearing. This time he knew she chose it specifically for him. The thought made his groin twitch in his pants.

“I thought you might be hungry”

“Thank you” she leaned in to kiss his neck and he smirked cheekily, realising that she truly enjoyed making him all hot and bothered.

The night was still very young, the sky not yet turned fully dark but it was dusk. The room was lit by a tall lamp in the corner. It was surely not their general bed time hour but they did not intend on making themselves wait. 

“Come” she sat down on the bed, removing the sheets.

He took his shorts and t-shirt off and started to wonder how visible his excitement is through his boxers. He did not dare to look down, but she did, very briefly and once again he smirked watching as she tried to play it cool by blinking fast and readjusting her position on the mattress. He laid on his side, her on her back, and moved very close to her body, placing his head on his hand for support. She smiled before saying something very unexpected.

“Tell me about your dreams”

He looked at her not really knowing what he should say.

“Well, it’s you and me, a great deal of you” he raised his hand to tuck a few strands of her hair behind her ear “Us…”

“Fucking?” she asked innocently and he chuckled nervously.

“Do you have to be so vulgar?”

“So?” she bit her lip coyly.

“Yes” he whispered drawing his eyes down her chest “A lot of it, to be honest”

“Mmm” she murmured pulling his head down with her hand, connecting their lips again.

He groaned after tasting her once more, this time the kiss was rougher, filled with need and desperation. They’ve been denying themselves this pleasure for far too long. So he moved his hand down her body, placing it at her knee, moving it higher up her thigh very, very slowly. She slowed down the kiss and eventually stopped, turning her focus entirely to his touch. Then she moved her legs, pulling them up and opening them wider for him under the sheets, so ready for his attention. He focused his gaze on her face, noticing how she kept chewing on her lower lip, her pupils dark and big, concentrating, awaiting. She grabbed his forearm when he reached the apex of her thighs, roaming her labia with his fingers very patiently.

“Pull the sheets down” he instructed.

She removed the covers as he said, processing to hike her dress up a little bit too. She kept looking at him while doing so and he was so intoxicated, he swore in his thoughts he could smell her. Focused on the way his fingers kept playing with her ever so gently he started to wonder if it’s not another one of his beautiful dreams. But she interrupted his rush of thoughts.

“Please” she whispered pleadingly.

The sound of her little voice stirred him and he switched his position to hover over her, making her eyes turn bigger when she noticed how firm and strong he looked, trapping her beneath him.   

“Meu doce, you don’t have to beg me for anything”

She gasped the moment he put one of his fingers inside of her, slowly but surely. He started to study her face, wanting to see her, to recollect what exactly drew the most pleasure out of her. He didn’t wait long before adding another finger to fill her more properly and she moaned softly, spreading her thighs even wider. His head started spinning. She trusted him, ready to open herself fully for him. Her hips bucked up when he sped up his movements and her eyes shot open, lids visibly heavy, her chest rising and falling faster every passing second. She started to move, trying to keep up with him. Her erratic breathing turned into more frequent sighs and little whines. And she kept looking him right in the eyes, enchanting him, bounding him to her tighter.

“I think of you” she breathed “Every time I touch myself”

Her words and the way her eyes sparkled after this confession made him go frenzy and he groaned leaning down to kiss her hard. She yelped when his digits appeared to sink deeper inside her core and she started whimpering against his mouth. He gritted his teeth trying to control himself, since all the sensations turned him so aroused, he felt as he could come any second. And he haven’t even feel her properly yet. Pathetic, he thought. But no girl ever affected him the way she did. And it felt right.

She came on his fingers with his name on her lips and it’s been a bliss, for both of them. With her glossy eyes, cheeks rosy and mouth slightly ajar she looked like the prettiest image of love, desire and delight impersonated. He brought his hand up to his face, all the while watching her attentively, and put his fingers in his mouth, tasting her, smirking when he noticed how her face quickly turned beet red.

“Don’t go all shy now” he murmured when she squirmed under him.

“Shut up” she huffed in response making that funny face she did whenever she was irritated by his petty little comments.

He grabbed the edges of the nightdress she was wearing, removing it, and leaned back to take a proper look at her.

“Stop staring” she nudged him with her knee.

“You’re so beautiful, I love looking at you”

He smiled at the way her lashes fluttered quickly, noting that she did that every time when feeling shy or nervous. It was cute. It only made him want to play with her, to taunt her a little bit since he had her so stunned and fragile. Grabbing her foot he lifted her leg up, proceeding to kiss every inch of her skin, with his hands traveling every place his lips couldn’t reach. She moved her head to the side when he made his way to her neck and whimpered softly as he grazed her throat with his teeth. She wrapped her legs around his middle and brought him closer, humming delighted when their pelvises touched. 

“How do you want me?” she whispered against his mouth and he shivered at the way this question sounded out.

“Just like that baby, I wanna see you”

He kissed her one last time before moving away to sit on the verge of the bed. He reached for the drawer in the nightstand to find something he’s put in there some time ago. He left her some condoms a while ago, because he obviously didn’t trust any fucker she’s ever dated.

“You haven’t used much of it” he smiled back at her cheekily.

“Well, I don’t get as much game as you, playboy” she snickered shyly.

“It’s fine, we’ll use it in no time”

She snorted at his comment and he hopped back on the bed shortly after, grabbing her ankles to yank her down a little bit. She squeaked as she didn’t expect it.

“We don’t want you to bump your head, do we?”

Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

“You are so thoughtful” she whispered before laughing under her breath.

The gentle smile never left his face as he thrived in this joyous moment between them, as they finally loosen up, feeling safe and comfortable with each other in this very new situation. He lowered his body above her and she threw her hands loosely around his neck. For a few seconds they stayed still, simply looking at each other, revelling in the closeness and intimacy. One of her palms slid down his neck and chest gently, reaching down to place him at her entrance. He moved slightly, pushing in carefully and she winced momentarily, making him stop and search her eyes for more sings of discomfort.

“No, it’s ok. Go on” she breathed against his lips.

So he moved again, slower this time, letting her get used to the feeling, not wanting to hurt her. She frowned and squirmed when he sank deeper inside of her and he grunted at the sensation so familiar yet so new. His muscles tensed and he took a deep breath trying to control himself from going too fast or too rough on her. When he opened his eyes he spotted her already looking up at him, her nails lightly grazing his nape. She seemed relaxed.

“I’m not made of glass, don’t worry” she murmured and rose up to kiss him sweetly.

Kissing her back he yet continued keeping a gentle and slow rhythm and she cried out when he slid back into her. Bringing his hand down to grab her hip he pounded down harsher and she choked on her moan as her back arched up. Her hands were traveling across his chest and shoulders, her nails marking him after every rough thrust of his hips. Moving his hand to snake it around her middle he grasped her body tighter, keeping her in place. She whined throwing her head to the side, accompanying his low moan.

“Come here” he breathed lifting her up, so she straddled him.

Looking down at him she moved trying to take control but he wasn’t planning on letting her, as he fucked up into her roughly. She mewled surprised and he could feel her tighten around him. He knew he couldn’t keep it up in this position for long, supported only by one hand placed on the mattress, so after few thrust he straighten up, grabbing her hips to guide her against him, barely letting her adjust to the pace. She placed her hands on his face, caressing his cheeks gently with her fingers brushing his nose and the outline of his lips.

“God, you’re so handsome” she whispered out of breath and he smiled cheekily before closing the distance between them to kiss her again “And you’re mine” she moaned “You’re stuck with me now”

He chuckled at her remark and looked her in the eyes deeply.

“I’m yours”   

[kxxkiecxre]

╰┈➤ Pretty when you cry | M.Y.G

・❥・PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!reader

・❥・SUMMARY: Yoongi thinks you’re one of the prettiest women alive.

・❥・WARNINGS: character death due to child birth / hints - talks of suicide. The length of this is more poem wise than story wise, so please don’t hate me for it being so short I’m sorryyyyy

******LISTEN TO PRETTY WHEN I CRY BY LANA DEL REY ******!!!!

Many have dreamt of a girl like you. Yoongi knows that. You were like the kiss of Aphrodite, the touch of an inside of a rose and the warmth of the summer sun. In a sense, you reminded him that of when the flowers begin to bloom during spring, the fresh crispy wave of reminiscent winter air in the morning and the dusky sky on a summer evening, right when it turns to the shade of pink, when the sun begins to timid away to your beauty. You were the it girl.

He knew that there were other ways to describe you, so many other ways. But for the life of him, your beauty and grace was indescribable. You were just like a pretty buttery daffodil, the sweetness of chocolate covered strawberries and the icy taste of a mango sorbet. So fucking, good.

He knew he was absolutely right when he got down on one knee and asked you to marry him on the docks of the summer lake during your camping days. The skies were exactly pink, orange and lilac. It was the the most memorable day to Yoongi, when he saw the way your smile lit up the lake as if tons of shimmering glitter was poured into it, the way the flowers perked up when you sniffled a little and your eyes shined brighter than any stupid star in the galaxy. He could swear your tears were dusted with some type of shimmer when they rolled down your rosey cheeks. Your siren gaze smiling with your bowed blushed lips, skin pale aside from the blush in your cheeks.

That day, that day his heart blossomed with the flowers. His heart expanded and felt that of pure cotton, soft, squishy and warm. So fucking warm, that day, when you said yes, he swears his blood seemed to flow a little more smoothly to his heart, reddening it as if it was crying the tears his eyes couldn’t seem to make out. That was the happiest day in his life, that day, he remembers every moment, every time he wakes up his brain somehow wires the chilly air to the way it was that morning, and the dusty sky, he now believes it carries your name with it every time summer comes around. He swears it does.

The clouds that day could have spelled your name out with the way the earth misted with your warm aura, it was as if everywhere you went, you bled your softness and kindness, your pureness into the earth beneath your feet. It would seep into the ground and rise above, blooming and captivating everything and everyone around you.

Summer, summer was the best way to describe you.

“You’re so pretty when you cry.” He murmured into your ear that day, your arms wrapping around him even tighter.

“Yoongi, you gave me a ring.”

He could give you so much more, he could give you the galaxy on the finest silver platter he could find. He would go around the world and pick every single flower around it for you. He would drain the ocean to save your life, and he would set this earth on fire if anyone hurt you.

Yoongi, would give his life for you.

Yoongi before you thought he would never bloom this beauty in his life. He refused to believe there was anyone in this world who would ever make him feel something again. He would roam the halls of your college campus in all black, noise cancelling headphones on his ears and he never, never spoke to anyone unless it was for an assignment. He thought back then he’d die alone.

Then you appeared on the roof of the building, grabbing him in a life sucking hug and begging him to give you just 24 hours. Twenty fucking four stupid hours to change his mind about living his life. Now he would spend eternity to spend it with you. He would bargain with the devil if it meant he could live forever with you.

If it meant, he got to see your face every, single, damned time.

You changed everything about him, in twenty four hours, you changed his view on this world. From forcing him to drive in your car while blasting some girly music in your run down Corolla with all the windows down, to eating frozen yogurt at the dead of night. Then, he saw you cry for the first time, when he told you just how sad he was while drinking wine, and he thought to himself how pretty you were when you cried.

He loved you more than life itself, you were the reason he was breathing, the reason he wanted to continue his life. The reason why the sound of children never sounded bad anymore. So he gave you your one wish. A baby. And then he found himself in the delivery room, staring with tears in his eyes, looking at his precious little girl, at the doctors who held her, and then his eyes landed on you, on the blood dripping from the bed, the doctors arms pushing vigorously against your chest, desperately trying to get your heart to beat again. He just stood there, for the first time crying. In his white cozy sweater and white turtle neck. The room was bizarrely quiet in his ears.

all he saw was the lifeless body of his life.

A/N: moral of the story? Don’t have ki…

Im only kidding please don’t kill me.

I can write a happier ending? If y’all want that… I’m sorry? Please forgive me?

NO COPYING, TRANSLATION OR RECREATION OF ANY KIND OF MY WORK IS PERMITTED.

MASTERLIST

[howdoyousleep3]

*cracks knuckles*

Okay, I grew up catholic and have tons of religious trauma. 🙃🙃🙃🙃

You’re a senior at your all girls school (OF COURSE). Father Ari is on his way out because all the girls have a crush on him and the diocese has caught wind of this. It cannot be ignored any longer, it’s getting out of hand and so he’s been transferred to an all boys school. (Cardinal Rogers has seen the social media posts you naughty girlies and has absolutely jacked off to them inserting himself into the stories about getting fucked by Fr. Ari - all the evidence collected by bitter old Sister Peggy). You have never participated in this because you are a good girl and that pulsing in your pussy is SCARY. More scary than exciting at this point. You are sheltered, practically infantilized by your equally troubled mother who looks at you with resentment because good girls marry the first guy they date and accidentally get knocked up by, solidifying their future that is nothing close to what they dreamed of.

Anywhooo, the church has always sort of given you bad vibes. Especially at night, you’re there a lot helping out and in the rectory after hours. You envy the peace it seems to give others. You can’t quite seem to feel that, only a shiver, a feeling that something lurks nearby. Something wicked.

You hate the stations of the cross. It’s violent retelling of Christ’s final moments. You wonder what is the point of it all. As you walk around the church, genuflecting beneath each beautifully brutal stained glass depiction of torture, you glance at Fr. Ari only to find him looking at you. Staring. It’s..weird. The look in his eyes reminds you of an animal. It’s wild. Feral. You don’t understand.

Face to face confession is the worst. You hate it. You much prefer hiding. Confession is weekly. You struggle to even come up with something to confess. You don’t do anything wrong. So you tell little white lies - you copied off of Sarah for a test, you stole some of your mom’s favorite caramels. You don’t even like caramel but you literally have nothing to say. Do you even believe in god? It all seems like a pointless joke.

He can smell the sweat on you. He wants to lick your face. He just knows your tits would taste so good. You don’t even realize he can see your crotch with the way your sitting. White cotton panties. Of course. Of course this little slut would wear something straight out of the porn he conjures up in his mind when he’s fucking his fist. When he thinks about you. He’s so fucking horny he thinks he can see your pubic hair sticking out of your panties. The tight little curls poking out slightly. He wants to stick his whole face into your pussy. Make you cum and drink up all of your creamy, salty, sweet, foamy pussy juice. Lay you down on the altar and place communion wafers one by one down your body, eat them off you, pour the wine all over your breasts and suck it off your nipples…

Idk that’s all I’ve got right now. Should I come off anon and give y’all more??

Take me the fuck away, nonnie.

Halfway through reading this masterpiece I had to stand up and take a little walk in my kitchen because I could not BELIEVE what I was reading, holy shit.

I would devour more of this. I won’t say I need this because I don’t want to put thy kind of pressure on you but 👀 please GOD I need more.

[definitelynotaminion]

For the wip askbox game, do you have anything in svsss?

I actually do!

I was writing a for a soulmate prompt, but didn't finish before the challenge deadline. @ladyteldra convinced me to ship Shen Jiu/Shang Qinghua, and I named the ship Scumplane (playing off of Cumplane) because I'm hilarious.

Hear me out, nonny: the dynamic is "✈️you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid 😏"/🎋"I want to kill you with my bare hands actually"😠

In this universe, a soulmate's kiss is an instant cure to most curses and sex pollen (incredibly relevant to the setting), so Shen Jiu is like "do I want to kiss you, no, is it better than FUCKING literally ANY of these fools, absolutely, come here" and that's so valid of him. Additionally I think ✈️ "I know all your secrets and I'm fond of you anyway" would turn SJ's brain inside out.

-

"Someone bring me Shen Qinghua at once."

"But, Shizun," Ning Yingying started, hesitantly.

"Did I stutter?" He fixed her with his coldest expression and she only lasted a few seconds before giving in.

"At once, Shizun." She demurred, and left him his dignity. He could hear her barking out orders to her shidìmèi as the door closed behind her.

It left Shen Qingqiu in the room alone. He poured a glass of water with shaking hands and forced himself to sip it in slow, measured amounts. His neck was red and feverish, leading down to his flushed chest, but it was the only physical tell of his condition. Layers and layers of robes hid the rest, immaculate as always-- as his position and integrity demanded.

It felt like hours before Shang Qinghua arrived, though of course it could not have been. He arrived flushed and out of breath, as though he'd ran. His face was uncharacteristically serious. Shen QQ caught his eyes lingering on the pink in the man's cheeks, the determined set of his mouth.

He forcibly looked away. Unfortunately, he did eventually have to return his gaze to his savior.

Equally unfortunate, he was able to see the moment Shang Qinghua realized what kind of situation this was. Urgent, yes, but not an emergency.

And no one was dying.

The rare seriousness faded from the man's features. He began to smile. His eyes sparkled, for fuck's sake.

Shen Jiu hated him with every fibre of his being. His jaw locked with the force of it, nostrils flaring. Asking for help was the bane of his existence and he went out of his way to ensure it happened as infrequently as possible. Scarcity did not make those few occasions any more bearable.

His normal method ("be as abrasive as possible until the invader of his space departed") did not work when he needed something from them, and couldn't even blackmail or or manipulate them into providing it-- preferably, of course, leaving them under the impression it had been their idea all along.

He avoided being indebted to anyone.

Shang Qinghua read the reluctance to force the words out on his face and apparently realized that the request would not come. That was almost worse.

"So, I heard you need something." The man said, leading and casual. Shen Jiu closed his eyes and counted, very slowly, to ten.

"I will string your intestines up on the rainbow bridge like festival lights." He hissed. Well, so much for restraint.

Infuriatingly, Shang Qinghua looked delighted.

"Gay Christmas," He said, which of course made no sense whatsoever. Then:

"Well, you could, but then you'd have to come up with an alternate solution to... your problem." His eyes flicked lower to the skin hidden by Shen Jiu's robes, and Shen Jiu's eyes narrowed.

He resisted the urge to cover himself, knowing damned well there were no physical indications of his "problem." His hands clenched on the edge of the low table to resist the urge to reach out.

"I'd rather jump off the bridge myself." He said acerbically. “As you well know."

“I do know that.” Shang Qinghua agreed. He stepped further into the room, adjusting his topmost robe. It was in the light blue of An Ding, embroidered and lined with silver to match his next layer. Shen Jiu had to forcibly move his eyes up from the man’s pulse.

Not for the first time, he found himself wishing he could spit venom. He drew himself more upright, straightening his spine, and used his most derisive tone to compensate for the lack.

“And yet,” He spoke, glaring acidically, “You still--”

Qinghua leaned down and kissed him.

The words died on his tongue, swallowed by heat. It swept through him in a wave, chasing the fever of the pollen. Shen Jiu made a small sound into it. Qinghua’s fingers hovered over his cheek, a guiding touch more featherlight than true contact, and for all his boldness he’d caught Shen Jiu’s mouth up in it chastely, sweetly.

It was enough to have Shen Jiu shake apart.

There was a terrible power in someone completely unafraid, of or for you. Qinghua pulled back slowly, brushing his thumb butterfly soft over Shen Jiu’s cheekbone where the red was already fading from his rushing blood.

“All better?” Qinghua asked, from scant inches away. His lips barely moved, the words an intimate murmur. The air between them was warm-- but not hot.

Shen Jiu closed his eyes in self defense and pretended it was to do a very thorough inspection of his own qi.

“Sufficient.” He said, quietly. “The pollen has run its course.”

[rorywritesjunk]

And I keep my doubts in the back of my mind

Buggy keeps Sunny company while she makes dinner.

Rating: PGish? Warning: A kiss, a panic, sad Sunny and longing Buggy. Pairing: F/F Word Count: 1,368 A/N: Takes place in the lil AU I came up with where Croc goes into business with Mihawk in running a club of sorts where Buggy is The Star of the Show. Sunny is his wife, they are actually a happier couple in this than the Cross Guild fic I wrote back a few months ago. I wanted to do something for this AU since I did the other modern AU as the second day of Pride.

Title comes from "Meantime" by Chappell Roan.

~

Buggy sat back in the chair with her feet up on the table and hands in her lap as she watched Sunny flit about the kitchen with the cute floral apron while she made dinner for her and her husband. She had invited Buggy over to keep her company, finding that she was growing fond of the other woman, not to mention she was just so pretty that she wanted to be around her as much as possible. 

And Buggy, well, she wished that Sunny’s husband wasn’t her boss and held her fate in his large hand like a tiny little bird, because if he was any other man, she would have said fuck it and kissed Sunny already. How could she not want to? Sunny was gorgeous, kind, absolutely perfect, and going by how the kitchen was smelling, a wonderful cook that had Buggy feeling jealous that Crocodile got to have this meal and not her. It wasn’t fair.

“So you studied dance and theater in college?” Sunny said as she poked at the onions caramelizing in the bottom of the soup pot. “That’s amazing! I minored in theater, but I focused on the history of textiles and fashion.” 

“Not surprised since you took on the job of fixing all of our costumes, babe.” Buggy grinned, winking at her as she leaned back in the chair. Sunny looked away, cheeks pink but Buggy swear she saw her smile. “You have magical hands.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I just, um, wanted to help.” The blonde insisted as she poked at them some more, giving them a stir. “It’s been fun getting to know everyone and spending time with you.”

“Yea?” 

“I mean, spend time with everyone.” Sunny corrected herself. She did enjoy spending time with just Buggy and she tried to do it as much as possible. “Crocodile has been working long hours and I get lonely sometimes, so I’m appreciating the friendships.”

“Well, babe, I’m glad we can be friends.” Buggy grinned as she stood up from her chair and went over to Sunny and hopped up onto the counter, looking down at her. “You’re so sweet, you know?”

“Oh stop, Buggy.” She glanced over at her with a smile. “I think you’re very sweet as well.” She poured the broth into the pot before adding some herbs. “Once this cooks for a bit, I’d love for you to try it and let me know how it tastes. I’ll make it for you some day.”

Some day? Maybe, but Buggy wouldn’t count on it. Sunny had a husband to care for at the end of the day when he’s done working long hours, trying to get all the paperwork in order with Mihawk. At the end of the day, Buggy would just go back to her little apartment by herself, put on some movie, and watch it curled up on the couch as she wondered how it felt to cuddle with Sunny. They hugged once and Buggy thought it was the best feeling in the world. She was so soft and warm, something Buggy wasn’t used to, and it was an awful feeling when Sunny pulled back.

“I’d like that, babe.” Buggy told her as Sunny put the lid on the pot and smiled at her. She touched Buggy’s knee, looking ready to say something, but her phone started ringing. Buggy cursed whoever it was for interrupting the potential moment as Sunny answered it.

“Hi! I have dinner started and-” She paused and Buggy hated seeing how her face suddenly fell. “Oh, okay. It’s fine, um, really, I understand you have a lot of work to do at the office getting everything in order.” She glanced at Buggy for just a moment before looking away. Buggy thought she saw tears but maybe it was from the onions. “It’s fine. I’ll have a bowl set aside for you in the fridge for when you come home, okay? I’ll see you later.” Sunny ended the call and stuck the phone in her pocket before turning to look at Buggy with a big smile on her face. “Would you like to stay for dinner, Buggy?”

“Was that your husband?” She asked. “Is he working late?” Again? And Buggy noticed the lack of ‘I love you’ at the end of the call. 

“Well, Mihawk’s previous partner really messed up the paperwork for the finances and everything, so he’s having to sort through that still…” Sunny looked over at the soup. “It tastes good as leftovers, but I think it's best when it’s fresh.”

Buggy made a face and sighed. “Of course I’ll stay for dinner, babe. You put a lot of work into it. You cut up seven onions like it was nothing!”

“Thank you, Buggy.” Sunny smiled. 

~

The food was delicious. Buggy had two bowls of soup with lots of cheese and bread. Sunny was happy that someone was eating with her, not wanting to have another dinner by herself, and Buggy was such good company. She was regaling Sunny about how she and her best friend would get into trouble in high school with pranks on the principal and teachers, mostly because they treated Buggy like she was lesser than her friend for no reason at all. The best prank was bringing in two goats tagged as “one” and “three” and letting them loose while the school was in an assembly. It was pretty hilarious.

Once they were fed and content, Sunny got up to start cleaning and Buggy joined her. They started talking again, of wishes for life and what ifs. Buggy wished she could travel the world and have an audience wherever she went and Sunny wanted to have a home with someone to love and hold her all the time. Buggy looked at her funny when she said that last part and Sunny cleared her throat and went to grab a bowl to put a serving of soup into. Buggy grabbed her wrist before she could, backing her up to the counter. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Buggy asked as Sunny swallowed nervously and looked up at her. Oh, she was so close. Sunny thought she could hear Buggy’s heartbeat and could smell her perfume so well and she just shrugged and smiled up at her.

“Misspoke, that’s all.” She assured her as she started to turn to reach the cupboard, but instead Buggy cupped her face in her hands and kissed her, pulling a surprised gasp from Sunny as she steadied herself on the counter. Once before she had kissed another girl, back in high school, and it was so nice. She had a crush on her but the other girl insisted she just wanted to see what it was like to kiss a girl and that was it. 

Buggy’s lips were so soft and she was kissing Sunny so tenderly and gentle. She thought she’d melt into her arms right then but she pushed her back carefully, shaking her head.

“I’m married.”

“But do you even love him?”

“Don’t ask me that, please.” Sunny said, shaking her head. “He’s always been very kind and loving, but it’s been hard when he’s spending all his time with his business partner and not with me, you know? We used to do things together every Saturday, but he just spends all his time with Mihawk and, and I don’t know, what if-”

Buggy caressed her cheek before she pulled away. As much as she wanted to be with Sunny, she was the wife of Buggy’s boss. She could easily lose her job if he caught wind of this and she couldn’t risk it. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand as she went to grab her jacket.

“I shouldn’t have done that, sorry. You’re right, you are married.” She said as she pulled her jacket on. “Sorry, babe.”

“Can you stay-”

“I’ll see you later.” Buggy interrupted as she started for the door. “Get some sleep, ‘kay?”

Sunny stayed in the kitchen, wincing at the door slamming shut. The last thing she wanted was to be all alone. She wanted Buggy to stay with her and keep her company. Why did she have to leave?

[jamesunderwater]

having an anon friend always seems like so much fun and i’m somehow jealous of you.

my fave time of day: my favourite time of day is definitely just before the sun sets. like when the sun looks so much bigger and the sky is a bunch of different colours, that’s my favourite time. (it’s also the time i go home everyday so maybe it’s also the fact that it’s home time).

my favourite character: alaska young. the book version though. there was something about “looking for alaska” that hooked me in at a young age and i’ve never quite been the same since.

one fact: i failed high school english. most of my friends see me as highly literate so when i tell them i actually failed english (it’s my first language too) it always comes as a big shock.

now my questions for you: what’s your favourite holiday? if you could have any fast food brand available to you at a moments notice, what would it be? if you had to describe yourself using two colours, which would they be? 🩶

friend anon!!! despite my considerable neglect of our friendship, i want you to know that replying to your asks was literally on my to-do list for months. i hope that this feels like a compliment -- i only write out "reply to so and so" and "text so and so" when i really care xD

okay if you came off anon though OR figured out how to stealthily leave a message about wanting a friend anon (idk how you'd do that, but worth a try lol) maybe YOU could have a friend anon too. i need to be someone's friend anon, actually. it's such a sweet feeling to make someone feel seen like that, to make someone smile by showing them people care and are interested in them as a person. thanks for being the kind of cool person who does that! <3 i hope you get a friend anon, you deserve one too.

ohhh, that moment before the sun sets is such a beautiful one!! i'm curious what your landscape is like when you're heading home each day -- are you seeing this sky against a city backdrop? an expanse of fields? suburban streets lined with houses? a mountain with houses scattered all down it? the sea or other waterscape? i must know.

haha i am excited that you ended up choosing a character i actually know! fun fact, when i was in high school, my childhood best friend and i reconnected and we always had a kind of ethereal bond. one day we were sitting in her car in a cemetery and decided we wanted to rename ourselves based on our truer nature, but decided we should name each other. i actually named her Alaska, because she so, so reminded me of Alaska from that book. she was just (still is, even now)...unearthly in some ways. magic kind of poured out of every part of her. she ended up changing her name to Alaska really everywhere, truly went by the name for years. I think she only recently started going by her birth name again. (she named me Luna, if you're wondering, and what a compliment, to be compared to the moon in any sense)

i hope it's not rude to say, but i love your one fact? cause fuck school. it is so not a measure of our actual intelligence or proclivities. kinda love that you prove that with that story -- though i am sorry you had that experience, because I'm sure it was very stressful.

okay, i probably already apologized for this, but like.......sorry again for having absolutely no capacity for short replies. i don't really know how people don't comment on every little thing like this? hopefully you don't hate it!

favorite holiday: generally speaking, Christmas. Huge fan of Halloween as well. but the last few years Christmas has been very quiet for me, and while I haven't hated that, it just isn't exactly the holiday it used to be. So you know what? In this moment, I think my answer might be New Year's Eve instead. for several years now I've spent that day in reflection, and journaled for hours at night about the previous year or years, hopes for the new year, all of that. I love it. and I love that, unlike other holidays, I don't really feel the need or even desire to be with others that day -- so the fact that I'm usually not doesn't feel strange or like something i need to fix.

fast food brand: i don't really eat fast food much, or eat out that often at all. but despite the fact that i hardly ever eat red meat, for some reason my brain has associated "i did a hard thing and now i deserve heavy-calorie, easy meal" with Five Guys. which is basically really expensive, wonderfully greasy burgers, and i always feel like shit afterward, but there you have it.

two colors: oh how i love this question... it's hard not to jump to my favorite colors, but that's not what you're asking here. i'm so curious what my friends would say 😆 but me? i think i would say the golden yellow of ginkgo leaves in fall. and... mm, yeah, the dark green of a spruce tree (i looked some up, and i think the black hills spruce tree is the best representation of the green i mean).

<3333 thank you for these questions and the wonderful conversation, friend anon. i hope you had the loveliest of holidays and this week is restful for you.

[jjungkooksthighs]

For a moment, he is still. For a moment, he simply studies the doubt marring her downturned, quivering lips. His thumb he’d had lain on her cheek falls from there to cosset that pouty mouth of hers, his finger gentle in its path around those beautiful lips he adores so. He considers her as he bends both of his legs out in front of him so that he can sit on his ass without having to take his hand away from her. Like this, he’s almost level with her. Almost. She would always be smaller than him. And he loved it like that. She fit so perfectly against him.  Distantly, he wonders what she might do if he turned her around so that her back was to his chest and her body between his legs.  The female in front of him trembles from the force of her sobs, and the sight is like a knife into his chest. He has to do something. He must.  More  tears descend down her face as she divulges her thoughts that he can no longer hear, and with each one, the knife is twisted and lodged deeper into him. He lets her talk, though. Even now, the melodious sound of her voice is pleasant under the leaves that whistle above them. There is no sound he has ever enjoyed as he does any and all that she makes.  When she’s done and her eyes have become glassy with the very skin under them red as a strawberry, that’s when he answers.  I could never hate you, my love. I could get upset with you, irritated with you, aggravated with you, frustrated with you, but I assure you that I could never find it in myself to hate you for anything.  You could kill me in cold blood- he eyes the red stain on her fingers, guilt drawing the metaphorical knife even more through his heart- and still I would not hate you. You are my reason for being, sweetheart. You are what I think about every second, minute and hour of the day. Before you, I was lost. Before you, I was not whole. You gave me meaning and you are the light that led the way for me when I didn’t know where to turn. You were, and are, what gives me purpose in this life.  I  love you for who you are and that will never, ever change.

The descriptions he provides her makes her heart clench in absolute terror. Just... just how much did he like her? She's never been loved like this before. I'm sorry, alpha. Her voice is soft, like the breeze that whisks the trees around them to sleep.

I've never been cherished like this before. I've never been loved like this before. I.. I come from a past that has shown almost nothing but horror. It has me scarred deep, alpha. I came to you a shell, filled with no prior knowledge of how it is to receive tender love and affection. I knew nothing about how it is to be loved like so. I know you don't hate me, alpha. Nor was it you that got me thinking that. I've just been.. so used to that emotion being directed at me.. I've been so fucking scared of that happening with you, that I automatically believed that it finally happened. It's just.. weird, alpha. I.. a sigh leaves her, her cries dying down. Her glassy eyes finally meet his, and she feels the walls her omega placed around herself come crumbling down. The other side of me.. your omega isn't.. she isn't alright. She isn't normal. She's been called names.. been physically hurt, and emotionally torn apart. It's why I don't ever let her out. She's far too fragile right now. She looks away, eyes downcast. She's far too broken.

I've never really talked about it with you. Not because I don't trust you, alpha, but because it hurts. It hurts that I don't have anything to offer you yet, alpha. I have nothing good to pour out to you as you do for me. I'm slowly healing, however. And it's only because of you, sweetheart. Her palm reaches out to cup his face, and he lets her, the crimson that taints her palm now smeared on his cheek as he closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath as if to force back the tears that choke him. You didn't hurt me, alpha. Nothing of that sort. Not one bit. You helped free me from the pain that shackled me to the place I was forced to call home. You helped free me from the destruction I would have eventually been subjected to had you not looked after me. I look up to you, alpha. It sounds silly, but I really do. I admire everything that has to do with you. You teach me something new every day. Through your words, and even louder through your actions. You help me grow, and evolve. Why else do you think I've begun to pick up on your habits, alpha? Why else do you think you've been able to color me in all shades that one would associate you with if you aren't the very essence of my life? I've been forcefully taught how to survive, alpha. But you... you taught me how to live. You taught me how to love. And all of that love you've poured into me, my heart pours back into yours. I don't just love you, alpha. I live for you. I have no purpose without you. And I sure as hell have no intention of letting you go if I can do anything about it. Not now. Not ever. Her hand trails down his cheek, before holding his hand, squeezing it as if to assure him before placing a small kiss on it. Please, alpha.. believe me. I have no one but you. You're all I have. You're all I need. And you're that I want. That won't ever change. I'll make sure of it.

With her bosom bearing down on him as it is, he feels the way her heart pounds against his chest. The fear that lurks there has her grasping him hard on his shoulders, her arms wrapping around his back so she can press herself more into him.

I know, omega.

His own words are gentle as the falling dew.

I’d been watching you for many, many years before we first mated. Have you forgotten of it? This means I am aware of everything.

I wanted so badly to be at your side well before we first spoke the day you presented as an omega. But your father….

He pauses, his brows furrowing. He had once been told never to tell her of this. It’s too bad he never had been one to listen.

He would not agree to it. The most he would let me do for you is be your guardian in the shadows.

I’m sorry it wasn’t enough. I had hoped those little notes I left in the night when you’d keep your window open for me would be enough. They weren’t, and I see that now.

I shouldn’t have listened to your father, but he gave me an ultimatum I could do little about.

I know very well that you are the way you are because of your past. I lived it beside you, even if I couldn’t be physically yours yet.

I remember the long nights you spent sobbing in your chambers, the roar of the fire somehow quiet under the din of your cries. Do you remember the flowers I left atop your windowsill?

He kisses her temple, his lips light as air as if he’s afraid doing more will break her.

Silly little flowers and notes were not what you needed, but it was all I could do at the time.

You received so little love, so little affection elsewhere that it is no wonder when I took you as my own that I had to start from the ground up to build you anew after all the damage that had destroyed you.

Of course it would be strange for you to have romantic love, or any other love, showered on you as ardently as I do now that I have you.

The hand that had been on her cheek falls until it’s under her chin. He urges her to lift it so that he can inspect the dark blue and purple marks coloring her neck in his brand. Her tears have dripped down onto them, and in the moonlight, they shine and gleam with the wetness of her sadness.

He lowers his lips to each of them, the brush of his mouth against them sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

The other side of you may be broken, but she will be fixed. That is the promise I make to you now, omega. That is the vow I make as your mate.

I know what she has experienced. I know what she’s faced. I was there, watching from the distance all along. I could do nothing then, but I can now.

Let me.

And let her.

You will have to do something for me, though. You will have to trust me.

His mouth ascends the column of her neck until it is under her ear.

Pain will be inevitable, but I’ll make it better. I’ll make you feel ways you never knew you could feel. But you have to allow me to.

You have so much to offer, my love. So, so much. I could be better for you. I will be better for you. Had I been, you never would’ve had those thoughts in the first place.

Warm lips travel along her jawline as he speaks, his kiss airy as the wind in the lightness by which his mouth billows along her flesh.

I want you to tell me anything and everything. I want to know all of you. Can I really say I love you if I don’t know all of you?

It has always been my mission to give you a better life. That’s all I want for you. And the love I have for you? It only grows stronger by the day. I blame myself for the pain you faced when you were younger because I could have done so much more, but I didn’t. I… I was scared. Scared of hurting you. Scared of taking you away from the only life you knew. Scared of your father.

I saw how broken you were, but all I could do was watch over you from afar and leave little flowers and notes in your window in the night. Your home became a hell for you, and I didn’t do nearly enough. I hope I can be worthy of being the home to you now that you so desperately needed then.

I just want you to be safe. Happy. Loved. Protected.

He says the words as his mouth ascends up her chin, his tongue a warm balm to the cool drops of tears that have dried on her skin.

I am undeserving of your idolatry. I made you cry. I will, however, do everything I can to earn that admiration you speak of. I promise you that. You are my moon, my sun, and my stars. You are what grounds me and what gives me light in this life. The darkness would surely have swallowed me whole without you had you not chosen me.

You may have been taught how to survive, but I think your independence that was forced into you has been a teacher enough in helping you to see how to rely on yourself. You don’t need me for that. Or anything, really. You’re quite resourceful, and quite skilled in getting what you want when you want it.

Or maybe I’m just biased.

It’s probably that.

He smiles against her lips when he finally, finally places them against hers.

My heart is yours. It always will be. I will never let you go, even if you decide you do not want me anymore.

He squeezes his fingers that she’s interlocked with his.

I want for no one except you. I never have looked at anyone else. I’ve never needed to. You were always there in my dreams, in my thoughts, and in my heart.

[ch4nb4ng]

Evil Roommate

pairing: leeknow x afab!reader, roommates enemies to lovers

warnings: softdom!lino, cheating (mentioned), making out, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering penetration, cum play (?), praise

requested : yes!

word count 6.2k

summary: the new roommate was a handful. lazy, disrespectful, arrogant, and a whole bunch of other negative things. but wow, you were sexually frustrated and he, well, attractive, was an understatement.

“Can you actually like, wash your kitchen utensils when you're done using them?”

The amount of huffing and puffing you have heard from your new roommate in the past two weeks was ridiculous. If you had a dollar for every time he had gone against anything you had politely asked for, you would be rich by now, and definitely stable enough to move out and away from him.

“I will,” he mumbled, mouth stuffed with half of the carrot he was chewing on, very loudly, “can I not enjoy my food first?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation, giving the fakest of smiles in return, “you should do it before you eat.”

Another eye roll from Minho was like water off a duck’s back.

“I'd also appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me with your mouth full of food either.”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You coughed, turning on your hills to face a very unimpressed roommate. His stare was eye shattering. Yes, he was very, no, extremely good looking. However, every single thing that made up his personality could not be more different to you. Sloppy, messy, lazy. Took no responsibility for any of his actions, especially the high pitch noises (that obviously were not his) you would hear from his room in the early hours of the morning. You would pinch your pillow together, praying extremely hard that the noise would stop, and by the time it did, you would get maybe 2, 3 hours of sleep. College was becoming tiring, not only from staying up to complete assessments, but the lewd noises you could hear from at least 2 people in his room. Your blunt attitude towards Minho’s unhygienic and disrespectful habits were definitely justified.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you nitpick everything I do?”

Your jaw dropped, completely dumbfounded.

“Me? Nitpicking you? Please,” you scoffed, “you don't clean up after yourself ever, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere, and don't even get me started on the fact that I barely get any sleep because of your wild sex adventures with other people that occur almost every weeknight, when you know I have to wake up early to go to class next day.”

A combination of frustration and exhaustion could be heard through the harshness of each breath. The smirk that appeared on his face was absolutely punch worthy. What on earth was there to be so cocky of?

“My wild sex adventures,” he paused taking a bite of the dreaded carrot, “please, tell me more about my wild sex adventures.”

His tongue was now obviously pressed against his cheek, a devil coated smile still very apparent on his face. The longer he was looking at you like that, the hotter your cheeks became. Pure anger began to course through you; all he had to do was sit there and look pretty. It was definitely enough for you to get the green light to slap him across the face.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, “I don’t need to explain how I can hear them moaning your name every night, or the banging I hear from wall to-”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “you seem to be listening very well.”

Distracted by your anger for a brief moment, you gasped suddenly, feeling Minho’s fingertips at your sides. You turned around, swatting his hands away, giving him that slap that you felt you had earned across the face.

“Who the fuck said you could touch me?

“Did you just fucking slap me?”

“Yes I fucking did,” you spat, “what do you take me for?”

“You know what you’re right, but you walk around here with a stick up your ass. I hear you on the phone to your friends, complaining about how you don't get any action from anyone.”

You stood there in disbelief. “So you’ve been eavesdropping on my convos as well?”

“Well it’s kind of hard not to hear, you know, the walls in this house are kind of thin.”

Your jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed, the conversation was at a stand still.

“Can you get to the point please?”

“I sure can sweetheart,” the name sending a shiver down your spine, “if you're that sexually frustrated, go and do something about it instead of taking it out on me?”

A laugh that you didn't even know you were capable of bellowed from your chest. You stumbled back, grabbing onto stool behind the bench for support.

“Me? Sexually frustrated? Please,” you huffed, “I’m not sexually frustrated, and it definitely has nothing to do with you.”

Another scoff escaped your lips as you shuffled back to your room. Closing the door behind you, a heavy sigh came from your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed. How on earth was he able to read you like that? So well and so accurate? It was all you could think about, not to mention the fact that it was also night time simultaneously.

You let your body fall onto your bed sheets. The feeling of restlessness was consuming your body. As you crawled into bed, you looked straight into the ceiling. Why were you thinking about his words so much? Were you really taking it out on him? You shook your head, mentally slapping yourself for even considering the thought.

Minho was a lazy slob who was extremely inconsiderate of others, especially you. But why was the thought of his fingers on your sides becoming the main source of agitation.? The silence of your thoughts was deafening, but they were easily interrupted as soon as you heard the door open, a high pitched voice followed what felt like the most ludicrous creek you had ever heard. ‘I should really put some oil on the door huh?’ You paused for a couple of seconds, this time physically face palming yourself for the dumb excuse you had made to see who he had decided to bring over to accompany him tonight. Legs completely ignoring your brain, you were out of bed, hand twisting the knob and peeking a look at the poor girl that would be subjected to Minho’s torture tonight. Tip toeing out of the doorway, you kept the weight of a feather on your toes, making yourself as invisible as possible.

“Y/n?”

Your pink panther stance of attempted deception looked utterly ridiculous and not sly at all was extremely confusing to the two. You quickly relaxed into a normal stance, the fakest of smiles coming across your face as you see who it is he brought home to have his way with.

“Chaeyeon… heyyy,” you lingered, “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

You would have been happy with literally anyone else. But Chaeyeon? Chaeyeon? It’s like she was your number one arch rival. Minho knew how much you hated her, yet he still let her come over. Everything about her you could not stand, not to mention the fact that she home wrecked your last serious relationship. Even though it was a while ago, you can forgive but not forget, her face being a constant reminder of your hurtful past.

“Oh hey Y/N,” she almost signed, her amount of excitement to see you matching yours, “I didn’t know you lived here.”

The arm he had around her waist made you sick.

“There’s a lot of things you don't know about me,” you mumbled, foot swaying back and forth, eyes focused on said foot.

“Okay, so you guys have had a little reunion,” Minho interrupted. Anything would have been better to break the awkward silence than his sarcastic comments, “we’re gonna go to my room now.”

“NO!” you interjected, covering the hallway with every bit of your being, “I mean, what’s the rush huh? Changbin is coming over as well.”

You paused, Minho’s face clearly cussing you out if yelling was inappropriate at this current moment.

“Uh no thanks Y/N-”

“We should all hang out!”

The excitement coming from your voice was so inauthentic, it was hard to miss.

“Yeah! Let’s all hang out,” you walked behind them, placing a hand on each of their backs and you hurried them to the couch, “I’ll get some beers in the fridge.”

“I actually only drink vodka,” Chaeyeon yawns, obnoxiously twirling her hair, her other hand aggravatingly high on his thigh.

“Oh that’s totally fine,” you gritted through tightly clenched teeth, “we have a bottle in the fridge, I’ll grab that for you as well.”

You scuffled back over to the fridge, mentally cursing yourself as you grabbed the necessary beverages. The confusion you were giving yourself about why you were putting in so much effort to spend time with the two people you literally hated more than anything was mind baffling

“So,” you began again, passing a Corona to Minho, a glass to Chaeyeon, “how have you been finding your course so far?”

You sat the Smirnoff and Orange juice on the table. Yes, you were being nice, but not nice enough to pour the drink for this bitch.

“Oh it was so great,” she smiled, “Jisung and I were living together, it was, well, a dream really.”

The feeling of your nails became prominent in your fists as your fingers caved in. The mention of his name was enough to make you see red, let alone the idea of them being happily together. The itch of your eye begging to roll was becoming too prominent, so much that you had to get up and walk away for a second. You stood up abruptly, confusion etched into Minho’s features. You didn’t want to make this a big deal, but the fact that she continued to gloat about it, long after you stopped listening was enough to reach your breaking point.

“I think I heard my phone ringing from my room, it must be Changbin.”

“I don't think I hear anything,” Minho smirked, plastering his lips on the edge of the bottle. The way his lips wrapped around the tip of the warm glass was something you ‘accidentally’ became fixated on. You puffed your cheeks, storming to your room and somewhat aggressively shutting the door behind you. Scrambling for your phone on the bedside table, you panicked, unclear mind as you scrolled through your phone contacts. You paused, an inducing amount of oxygen filling up your lungs. It did little to calm the irritated tingling sensation in your fingers.

Changbin’s name had finally popped up on your phone after what had felt like a lifetime.

“Hello?”

His voice was husky, guilt panging your chest as you realsied you had probably woken him up from his not very often deep slumber.

“Changbin,” you gasped, “you know how much I love you right?”

“What do you need me to do?”

You snickered at his words. He had been your friend for too long to know that those words would never be said unless you needed something.

“Can you come over,” you pleaded, “Chaeyeon is here with Minho because he invited her over late at night, and I told them you were coming over?”

“Jesus Y/n,” Changbin sighed, a playful chuckle tickling your cheek, “so you want me to come over and make Minho jealous?”

“Wait no wtf,” you jumbled, “make Minho jealous? I just want you to flirt with me and Chaeyeon so she leaves.”

“Mhm yeah,” he chuckled once more, voice laced with sarcasm as he spoke, “I’ll come over, but if you don't sleep with him by the end of the night, I’m gonna be extremely disappointed.”

“Yeah okay whatever just get your ass over here now.”

And with that you abruptly ended the phone call, Changbin giving you no peace of mind. Were you this easy to read by everybody? A frustrated sigh exploded from your chest. The games your head and your heart were playing with were helping you come to no resolution. You sat on your bed, thoughts were running crazy. Now would be a really great time to just put on Netflix and curl into bed, have some snacks and fall asleep, chip trail on ur chest to be found in the morning.

You were interrupted by the very loud knock on the door. Sprinting like your life depended on it, you were relieved. Seeing Changbin’s face had never before given you so much joy.

“Changbin,” you shouted, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Y/n what are you doing-”

“Shut up and go along with it,” you mumbled into his chest, letting up, but still keeping your body tightly wounded against his. Minho’s jaw became clenched, or were you just imagining things?

Regardless of what it was, your brain quickly shifted to the way Chaeyeon was eyeing Changbin up and down, almost like it was the first time she had ever seen an attractive male. ‘She definitely wasn’t looking at Minho like that when he walked in’ you thought, an unconscious smirk coming to mouth. You bit down on your bottom lip, an extremely poor attempt at masking the satisfaction of your goal being achieved so easily. One step closer to kicking her out, for good, because there was no way you weren’t talking to Minho after this about making an explicit declaration of her abandonment from this house.

“Minho,” he smiled, earning a nod, “Chaeyeon,” he smirked, an almost gag spilling out of your mouth.

“Changbin,” she followed, repeating his smirk, “long time no see.”

She gulped, engulfing a large sip of alcohol into her wicked mouth.

“Let’s play a game!”

“A game,” you questioned, raising an eyebrow, “why would we play-”

“I think that’s a great idea!”

You turned to look at him, a puzzled expression still very apparent on your facial features.

“Get the vodka out from the fridge, and let’s get started.”

***

Two bottles of vodka down, and what looked like 8 bottles of Corona sitting empty on the table, the games that were being played were becoming more difficult to comprehend. Sound of giggle and laughter constantly filled the room as everyone slowly began to lose their minds to the intoxication.

“O-okay, never have I e-ever, done a sexual act in public.”

Filters of chuckles and laughter filled the room as everyone, but you took a sip.

“What?” she asked, offering you her fake sympathy, “you’ve never done anything like that before?”

“I-I mean,” you stuttered, the look of confusion was evident, “I don’t think I have-”

“Yes you have.”

All eyes were snapped open and pressing into Minho’s skull as he began to converse.

“Pfft, no I have not,” you scoffed, taking another swig. An eye roll left came from Minho, followed by a sound of what seemed to be disgust as he shot gunned his current bottle.

“Yes you have,” he nagged, playfully hitting your shoulder, “I saw you.”

Complete silence fell over the room as he words lingered in the air. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.The feeling of the room had suddenly changed. His eyes became soft, fixated on nothing but the way your body slumped against the rough material of the couch.

Your mind began to drift. Thoughts floating into earlier scenes of the night. The closeness of his breath fanning your neck ever so softly, palms spread across your hips. The idea of marks on you swimming into your head. God that would feel so good. Letting him grab you and throw you onto his bed. Climbing up your frame, starting from the bottom of your legs, keeping a tight grip on your inner thighs. The feeling of faint lips stealing every inch of your being, tantalisingly hitting every, single, spot, finally reaching your-

“Y/N? Y/N!”

The feeling of Changbin's shaking your shoulders definitely brought you back to reality. His hands did feel nice, but they weren’t the ones you were longing for. Your head was thrown back, disbelief filling you as your mind continued to fill the gutter.

“When?”

As you moved closer, you giggled, placing your finger tip across his knee. You let them dance, index fingers tapping away at the skin you so desperately wanted to see in this moment.

“Mr. Lee Minho, when did you see me?”

“I’m not saying it here in front of-”

“Who? Chaeyeon?”

Your prowling continued, bodies even closer as you slowly began to climb him like an inanimate object. This would have been completely awkward sober. Nothing about this was romantic in the slightest. To an outsider, or Changbin and Chaeyeon, you were right there, situated across Minho’s lap. It wasn’t quite a straddle, it was just something. They both stayed quiet, paying little attention to your animalistic act, already focused on feeling each other up. Or so you assumed, seeing as they didn’t say anything. All that was heard was the sound of the front door. You snapped your head for a quick moment, eyes scanning the emptiness the room suddenly felt.

“It was in the car.”

Minho’s words felt heavy, like he had more to say.

“The car?”

You were taken aback, face moving away from the closeness of his. Part of your brain clicked, remembering exactly what he was talking about. With Jisung. The memory of hurt was quickly forgotten as the feeling of Minho’s palms spread across your body was bringing you to life. The adrenaline came all at once. Your mind was telling you to move away, but your body was saying something else, affirming it’s position.

Minho was leaning in, barely any spaces between the two as his fingertips began to spread lower and lower, firmly gripping either side of your ass as he moved you closer. A helpless whimper escaped your lips as you felt your legs tighten, heat running down to your core, quickly. What the fuck was happening right now?

“You were on top of him,” he whispered, pulling your hips against him once more, “just like this.”

“F-fuck,” was all that managed to slip out of your lips. This was becoming difficult. So difficult to say no and move away. You knew it was the right thing to do. Things would just be awkward and you could go back to hating him. No matter how much you tried, how much you wanted to, you were powerless. Every fiber of your being was being given up to him. You leaned in closer, foreheads now touching as you looked at him. His gaze was anything but lacklustre as his jaw became tense. His body began to ache simultaneously with yours. The pressure was becoming too much.

“Do you want this?”

“What?”

A small whine escaped you at the loss of his tips gripping your body. They quickly made their way to either side of your face. Your body began to rock back and forth on it’s own. You had become desperate for any sort of friction that you could create.

“I said, do you want this?”

“Do you?”

His expression made you nervous. It was hard to read. All you could see was the black substance of his pupils enlarge, increasing in diameter by the second. Almost like a supernatural being was possessing him.

“Fuck,” you grunted, wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself on top of him, “you’re making it hard to say no.”

Things were already becoming hazy the longer you stayed. A huff of frustration came from him as he was giving all his effort not to give into the way you were rubbing your dampening heat against him. It was like a drug he could not refuse.

“Kiss me if you want me.”

He huffed, the edge of his lips just barely brushing against the tip of your nose.

“Kiss me, and give me the green light.”

You waited a moment, any part of your brain that wasn't concentrated solely on his palms digging into your sides trying to reason. You looked at him once more. His eyes, nose, lips. His lips.

“Fuck it.”

He was quick to work, pushing you down to lie flat against the couch. A small kiss to your lips was felt as he pulled away, lifting his arms up and throwing his shirt to the floor at Usain Bolt pace. The smirk on your face was too easy for him not to see.

“You like what you fucking see don’t you?”

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

Of course. Of course he was still that arrogant cocky motherfucker that you could not stand. The one who never cleaned up after himself. Or took too long in the shower for the hot water to run out. All of these evil perceptions you had of your roommate were disappearing as his lips were gently placed onto yours. It was a little too slow for your liking, but it was deep. Boy, was it deep. Each movement of his tongue was made with so much precision as he lowered himself onto you. His thighs were clenched, a soft groan could be heard against his lips as his groin pressed into you. Holy fuck, were you really doing this? It was so wrong. Everything in the world was saying to stop, stop this.

“Mm- wait,” you paused your hands on his chest to push him away, “wait.”

A flash of panic waved over his eyes as he quickly jumped off of you, face palming the floor.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you-”

“I’m fine,” you interjected, giggling at the never been seen care and caution he had for you, “I just don’t think we should do this.”

“Oh,” was all he could say. You kept your gaze lowered; looking at him would have made you feel so guilty. The feeling of regret started to seep into your bones, but you couldn't tell: was it regret of this ever happening, or was it regret from stopping? Your head was too muddled to even attempt to comprehend what had just appended. The only sound that could be heard was your scuffed footsteps, quickly pacing back to your room and shutting the door, hard. The loudest sigh known to earth could be heard on the opposite side of the room as you let your body collapse. The ache between your legs was growing by the second; and as much as you tried to suppress the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours, fingertips dragging along your sides. No. It was much easier this way. Setting boundaries as roommates seemed to be a better idea for the long run.

But the long run was boring. You would both have to pretend that this never happened. Having other people over for sexual purposes would just be awkward now; the more you thought about it, the realisation, and the jealousy hit that you had already crossed said boundary. And maybe that’s why your feet had dragged you to the front of his bedroom door. How the fuck did you get here? You brought your knuckles to the wooden frame, door becoming slightly ajar as you gently knocked. Minho’s snapped his head around, covering himself quickly as you walked in. You cocked your eyebrow, a face of confusion apparent on your face.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he huffed, turning back to his previous position, “what do you want?”

You wanted to just walk out. Mind your business and just leave. But it was hard, quite literally. The imprint of what you assumed to be Minho’s naked lower half painfully pressing into the sheer sheets that was covering him. He paid you no more attention, giving you all the power to initiate whatever it is you wanted to initiate. You slowly crept in beside him, nuzzling your head into the back of his neck as he groaned in annoyance.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

“Hmm, I think I changed my mind,” you whispered, reaching around to grab him. A blunt hiss escaped Minho’s lips as your action made him turn around. He was so close to you now. So close that you could feel his breath spreading across your left cheek.

“Are you being serious right now?”

The look on his face was unimpressed to say the least.

“Yeah, I mean,” your voice was calm as your hand began to take flight, sliding down to the base of his shaft, “we’ve already crossed the line, let’s go a little further.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He grabbed you by the wrist that was currently on him, pulling it away and climbing on top of you. Both hands now leaving his side, securely attached onto both wrists as he pinned them down above your head. Nose clumsily tickling yours as he reattached his lips to yours. The feeling of his lips was much softer and calmer than before, almost like he was protecting you. Wanting to keep the moment so delicate, though the way his bare hips involuntarily grinding against your clothed core was far from it. A soft whimper came from your lips, vibrating against his. A soft chuckle was heard from Minho as he pulled away; it made you nervous. To be more specific, the way that arrogant, mischievous smirk that you knew all too well was spread across his face.

“You’re so responsive to me,” he growled, quickly planting another one on your lips before sliding down to your jaw, then your neck, stopping at your chest. Nothing needed to be said as you quickly discarded your shirt, silently thanking your past self for not wearing any underneath. Minho situated himself in front of your now bare chest, waist sitting against your heart as he took one nipple into his mouth, fingers enclosing around the other. A loud whine left your lips, back arching in reaction to him. He looked up, satisfied filling his body as you weren’t able to return his gaze, head already rolled all the way back as he continued his playful assault.

“It’s so cute,” he mumbled between kisses, “so responsive and I’ve barely done anything.”

His lips travelled down the center of your stomach, dipping dangerously closer to where you wanted him most. His continuous rhythm between kisses was immaculate. Any of the incoherent sounds you made, or the crude remarks he made were left unsaid.

“Fuck,” you hissed, painfully throbbing at the way Minho played with the waistband of your panties.

“Not fun to be teased y/n,’ he paused, making sure you were looking at him, “is it.”

A pang of guilt hit your chest for a moment. I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose, right?

“Minho I’m-”

“Save it,” he scoffs, “whether you did it on purpose, or not, I’m not gonna let you have it so easily.”

His fingers stopped their performance across your hips, continuing a little lower than before. The smirk came to his lips once more, index finger running down your slit. The friction was fierce, but not fierce enough. You wanted, no, you needed more. All he could do was smile at your mercy.

“So fun to tease darling, but you’re gonna have to be more vocal if you want these panties off.”

“Minho please,” you whined, “for fucks sake.”

You bucked your hips forward, desperate for any more contact from the bare minimum he was giving you.

“That doesn’t sound very nice to me.”

“Minho please, please, please,” you whispered, voice becoming super weak, “fuck me, or finger me, anything please, I need to feel you.”

“Now that’s more like it,” he smiled, finally pulling your panties down. You have never lifted your hips faster in your life. The vulnerability of your naked body was somewhat confronting, but your brain was so fogged out from the immense teasing, you cared little.

“Fuck,” he gasped, spreading you effortlessly with two fingers, “you’re so wet for me, aren't you?”

The heat in your cheeks rose as you became embarrassed at his words. Minho didn’t know this, but feeling humiliated was something that could make you cum on the spot. Words intended for insult went through your ears and straight down to the core, the heat becoming like an intense fire igniting in your body as one of his hands moved along your inner thigh, the other gently beginning to circle around where you needed him most.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god Minho please, more.” Your voice was becoming needier by the second, but the longer it went on, the less you seemed to care. His tongue was now a factor coming into play, small kitty licks lapping your clit at a suddenly fast pace. Your legs are already trembling, but Minho does more to appease, hooking his arms under and around your thighs to stop the flustered look on your face. It was confronting how quickly he was getting you to your high.

“Please,” you sighed, eyes hazed as you attempted to look down at the way his tongue was on you. The combination of him sucking on your clit, then pushing it through your entrance almost made you scream. However, the noises that came from your mouth were small, heavy pants, progressively getting louder and louder the tighter the knot in your stomach became.

“Do you wanna cum princess?” His voice was whiny, mocking the tone you had used earlier. You nodded ferociously, knowing any attempt to speak would come out horse or just broken.

“Such a good girl,” he purred, replacing his tongue with two fingers, “but if you want to cum, you’re gonna have to beg for it once more.”

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you groaned, an attempt of grinding your center onto Minho’s fingers failing miserably, “you’re being so unfair.”

“I’m unfair?” he scoffed, beginning his digits back to a bare minimum pace, “you’re the one

who was teasing me all night. I know Changbin is like, your best friend so there was no chance you were bringing him back to fuck him. Then you start to kiss me, hard and fast may I add, AND THEN ! you aren’t sure and you leave me to pretend like nothing happened.”

There was no witty comeback you could say in response because he was right. You were the one who has done the teasing for most of the night.

“You looked so fucked out right now baby,” his tone coming back to a calming medium, “begging for me to make you cum, which I can do right now,” he paused, climbing back to your side, lifting your left leg to continue his easy access to ur clit, “or you can beg even more to have my cock inside of you. The choice is yours.” You swallowed, hard. How could he say something so filthy? Out of all the times you had heard him bring other girls over, he would never talk like this. It was always so nice and calm, full of praise and compassion. Maybe they didn’t act like cock teases and let him just have what he wanted.

“C-cock,” you mumbled, pushing your backside against his now pulsating cock, “please give your cock sir.”

“Ooo sir, I like that one, but you’re gonna have to do more if you want me to fill you up princess.”

Words were becoming extremely hard to not only facilitate in your mind, but put them on your tongue and get out to him. He knew this. He knew your were on the brink of collapsing in cum, but the torture was too entertaining for him nonetheless. Although you're frustrated with him was increasing, you couldn’t lie to yourself that the way he was using you like a sex toy was turning you on. After being up his ass so long with rules around the house and how you wanted things done, it was nice to finally let go. Submit to his rules instead of yours.

“P-please Minho, sir’ you panted, head turning to look at the sadistic face of enjoyment he was having from this, “I’ll do anything, a-anything to have your cock inside of me right now.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Okay then tomorrow morning, you have to make me breakfast, AND wash my dishes.”

“Seriously,” you panted, “that’s what you're thinking about right now?”

“You said anything.” He shrugged, suddenly taking his fingers away from your dripping core. A gasp of disappointment came to your lips at the loss of delicious contact. Minho sat up, ducking under your leg, and positioning himself right back to where he was previously. However, this time, he was on his knees. Although you were touching it before, you really hadn't had a chance to look at how big it was: way more than what you expected. He stroked himself a couple of times, making sure not to get carried away with himself before he pushed it between your folds, letting his pre-cum mix with your juices. He slowly descended into you. Jaws dropping simultaneously, you gasped. The way he was stretching you out did burn a little bit, but once he was fully inside, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Minho waited until the look of slight discomfort faded from your features.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip and he slowly pulled himself back out. He kept a consistent, yet slow pace as leaned in closer to you. He was now hovering over, letting his face become buried into the middle of your breasts. The feeling was so immaculate, you were desperate to cling onto something for support.

“Dig them into me,” he groaned, strangling his vocal cords, “dig your nails into my back and scratch me like your life fucking depends on it.”

Perfect. You did as he pleased, a loud moan of his name wrestling from your lips as you felt the red marks appear on his backside. The pressure from before was already building in your stomach again, and he could tell. The way you were super tight for him was one, but the way you were now clenching around him was another. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept doing that.

“Fuck,” was all you could manage to say, a deep grin plastered on his face.

“You’re close aren't you,” he cooed, attaching his lips to your neck, “talk to me baby, tell me what you're feeling.

“Mhm, yeah, fuck I’m so close baby. H-Harder.”

The pitch of your tone was becoming whinier by the second. To add to that, the way you became confused, as if Minho was a vampire, because the way he was sucking on your neck was kind of painful. Nevertheless, you relished in it, knowing too well that a very, very dark mark would replace his mouth. The idea of him showing his possession of you, knowing that he finally won you over did not make you happy, nonetheless, you were too fucked out to care.

Your legs were now pushed all the way back, pace fastening by the minute, allowing Minho to push even deeper into you. And that was it. Right there, the spot you had never even known was even there.

“Ah fuck!” Your moan was loud this time, completely unable to control anything. The smirk, in combination with the satisfied growl that left his lips was a face of pure ecstasy as he realised that he had finally hit your G-spot.

“Fuck that feels so fucking good,” Minho grumbled, “are you close? Because I think I’m gonna cum.”

It was like your stomach was an orchestra. Minho’s words were the conductor, completely controlling how close you were to your release.

“Y-yes,” you cried, “I’m gonna cum so hard right now.”

“You wanna cum baby?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna cum right now?”

“Yes baby,” you pouted, a perplexity of sounds escaping your lips, completely out of your control.

“Cum on my cock princess,” Minho whispered through what sounded to be like pained groans, “be a good girl and cum with me inside of you.”

And there it was, like it was on queue as your body completely flopped, legs shaking and a string of lewd curse words fell from your lips. The way your pussy clenched around him was enough to make him pull out, spilling into the dip of your stomach. A loud breath of what seemed to be exhaustion fell from his lips. Your eyes were previously screwed so shut, it hurt when you opened them again, sensitive to the light.

“Fuck,” you both cursed simultaneously, making one another giggle. Minho fell to your left side, flat on his back as he invited you to scooch over next to him. Face pressed against his chest, fingers playfully dragging up and down his torso. For some reason, he felt so safe and secure at this moment. Almost forgetting how he literally just fucked you into oblivion, your eyelids become heavy. It wasn’t until Minho spoke that you were revived from your alternate state of consciousness once more.

“I didn’t know you had it in you.” His voice sounded genuinely surprised, unsure if you should be offended or not. You looked up at him, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He wasn’t sure how to react, but the dark shade tinting his face right now said enough.

“Please,” you scoffed, “You did me good, but was that the best you can do?”

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, but down on it after, “Is that a challenge?”

You said nothing, instead sitting up and pushing your legs on either side of his hips. A soft moan escaped his lips as he felt your still dripping heat sitting on the base of him.

“Why don’t you find out and see?”

[miekasa]

do you have any cute (or h-word) bf headcanons for the Aot boys mie?

Of course I do, I have an ever-expanding list of headcanons for all of them, from how they react to you sitting in the backseat when they pick you up, down to whether or not they would rip your bandages off after your get a shot (spoiler: Eren, Porco, and Levi fucking would)

EREN sfw

He really likes holding hands, though it’s more of a calming habit for him. Holding hands keeps him grounded, and acts as an anchor for his anxiety; so he’ll grab and/or fidget with yours periodically.

He’ll steal your skincare if he’s over at your place, but honestly he just starts… copying it lmfao. Like, he’ll take notice of your face wash when he’s over he’s like “Oh, this is nice” and then a week later, he buys a bottle for himself. Then he buys your toner, and your moisturizer, and you stay over at his place and gotta do a double take bc he’s got damn near the same of everything at this point.

He doesn’t know if he believes that classical music actually helps him to concentrate, but he does know that he’s grown to like it, so it’s become his studying music of choice. He’s got favorite composers and everything.

He’d be upset if you didn’t steal his hoodies. That’s what they’re there for. He’ll make you steal them if he has to.

He hates standing in line. For anything. If he likes a restaurant that gets super busy at lunch, he’ll order ahead for pickup (and he feels special skipping the line). At amusement parks, he pays for the fast passes. If it’s shopping, then he’d rather just do it online.

On that note, he sucks at returning things that don’t fit/he doesn’t like when he shops online, so he honestly just keeps them, or gives them to his friends—it’s much easier than going through the hassle of printing a return label, according to him.

nsfw

He likes the idea of recording you guys during sex, but he’s honestly a little too nervous to do it—nervous about being recorded himself, and about it potentially getting out somewhere.

Likes it when you look him in the eyes when you cum. In fact, he somewhat demands it.

Similarly, he’s always watching you during sex. Mostly your face, for indications of how he’s making you feel and when you’re close to your orgasm (which is why he’s got a thing for you looking at him).

He used to hate masturbating, until he tried masturbating to the idea of you, and now he fucking loves that. He takes his time with it too—if he’s gonna jack off, he’s gonna make a moment of it: sit on his bed, turn the lights off, make sure he’s all alone and can go for as long as he wants.

Threesomes are fine with him, and he doesn’t even have to be the sole one in charge, depending on who’s joining you.

ARMIN sfw

He air-dries the majority of his clothes because he doesn’t want his sweaters and knitwear to shrink. Also, he likes the smell of his fabric softener permeating the room while the clothes dry.

On a similar note, he’s got sensitive skin—not to the point where a shirt less than 75% cotton irritates him; but he is conscious of fabrics and products he uses. Because of this, he takes extra care with his laundry, his pillowcases and bedsheets are satin as are the majority of his pajama shirts, and he never ever walks around without house slippers or he’ll irritate the bottom of his feet.

He’s scared of bugs, but he doesn’t like to kill them either. Honestly, he just kinda hopes spiders and stuff will crawl away without him intervening 😭😭

He likes board games, and has a thing for The Game of Life. He cannot play chess, even though most people would guess that he could, and he’s begun to practice by playing online versions against computers to learn.

He knows everyone’s gossip because everyone comes to him to gossip. And if he’s the therapist friend, then you’re the person who receives the summary of all the tea from him at the end of the week. And man can this boy throw a bitch fest when he’s in the right mood.

nsfw

He’s got a bit of an oral fixation, so he really likes having your mouth occupied; with his fingers, with your panties, with his dick—he’s not really picky.

Likes sex with the lights on. Claims it’s because he wants to “see all of you” (it’s really because he’s nervous he’ll fuck something up if he can’t see properly 😭😭)

He really likes making out. Like, a lot. Though it’s not something that happens often—so he builds up a lot of frustrating thinking about it, and it all comes crashing down, and ends up with you guys damn near dry humping each other on the couch for two hours.

That’s something that applies to him generally, too—he tends to let himself get very frustrated and worked up, whether he means to or not. He also thinks about sex quite frequently, and it only fuels his frustration; so when he snaps, he snaps hard.

He’d let you choke him back if you asked. Just ask nicely.

JEAN sfw

Loves studying in cafés and adores when you study with him; peeps up at you periodically when you sit across from him. He always pays for your drink, but sometimes you guys share, and he likes making a game out of reaching for the cup at the same time as you.

He’s very chivalrous, but he hates when you call him out for it, or make any kind of deal of it. He knows it’s chivalry, but he also knows it’s the bare minimum, plus he’s easily embarrassed—especially in public.

Loves having his hair played with, absolutely adores it. If you’re just holding his face, or resting your hand on his cheek, he’ll move himself further into your touch to maneuver your palm closer to his hair.

He really really really likes back hugs—giving and receiving them. If he’s standing behind you, he’ll most likely reach for a hug at some point (sometimes he won’t let go and you’ve gotta waddle with him on you). His ears get red when you give him a back hug but he always uses a hand to rest over your arms to tell you that he doesn’t want you to let go.

He can play the piano, but he doesn’t tell a soul about it. The only reason you found out it through his mom. He’s got stage fright, so he gave up on performing, but he’s really talented, and can almost play any song by ear.

nsfw

He loves the feeling of your hands on him, particularly if you’ve got long nails. Please scrape your nails against his back, or even just dig them into his biceps while he’s fucking you, it’ll drive him insane.

Along with liking having his hair played with, he adores having it pulled on—the attention and desperation in your actions goes straight to his ego and his dick.

One of his biggest fantasies is getting a lap dance from you. He’d never ever fucking say it out loud or dream of asking for it, but the idea of you stripping in front of him, down to lingerie he’d picked out for you, and teasing him until he can’t take it anymore and jumps you is something he thinks about… far more often than he should.

If you’re wearing his clothes (especially one of his t-shirts to bed, or around his apartment), he’s gonna fuck you in it. Jean has a lot of self control, but that’s one thing that’ll make him snap in an instant. And if you wear his shirt or hoodie out, he’s fucking you when you get home, it’s as simple as that.

CONNIE sfw

He studies with children’s shows playing the background. He doesn’t remember how he discovered that his method works for him, all he knows is that something about Paw Patrol makes for excellent background noise for writing his research papers.

He’s quite touchy with PDA, but if you guys are in a crowd then forget about it—because Connie might forget about you. He’s definitely left you at the grocery store before.

He eats cereal for breakfast every morning, and he’s kind of got a collection of them in his kitchen. He claims there are upscale cereals that he doesn’t just let anybody eat or even touch; so, if he offers you a midnight snack consisting of a bowl of his favorite (and very rare) cereal, then be honored.

He almost always pays with cash, but he hates change. If he gets back coins, he either tells the cashier to keep them, puts them in a tip jar if there’s one in sight, or just pours them into your coat pocket. He understands that its money, but he’ll be damned if he’s just got a sack full of nickels clanging around in his bag.

nsfw

He claims he doesn’t have a thing for exhibitionism, but with the way he’s down to fuck damn near anywhere, he might be a bold faced liar. Changing rooms, music festivals, airport bathrooms, the little corner of the multilevel parking lot that he’s oh-so-certain is in the blindspot of the security cameras... there are so few things off-limits with him.

Car sex on his bucket list… just not in his car lmfao (because trust and believe that’s something that already happens pretty regularly). Maybe his real kink is vandalism and destruction of property.

He is not above begging you to sit on his face. He will get on his knees and pant like a fucking dog for you to do it, he’s so serious. He’ll do it laying down, he’ll do it with you standing up/against a wall, he’ll do it on the couch. Break his neck please he’s fucking asking for it.

He doesn’t mind sharing and he definitely doesn’t mind watching. Honestly, he’d egg you on to kiss someone else at a party, or go as far as to seduce you into seducing someone else just so he can watch it go down.

PORCO sfw

He sends you iMessage games but only the ones he’s good at because he doesn’t like to lose. But also, if he is losing, he doesn’t want you to be supportive about it and tell him “it’s okay uwu” lmfao he wants to either cream you, or have you kick his ass; competition is the name of the game, don’t be soft on him.

He’s a morning person, and he likes going on runs or even just early-morning walks when the weather is nice. He will wake you up occasionally to join him—and if you’re a homebody, you will be joining him. He won’t be responsible for watching you decompose on the couch.

Very picky about his pizza. It’s not a calorie or grease or health thing—he just really fucking likes pizza, and he won’t excuse a bad slice.

Always pulls you closer to him in a crowd or when a group of people are walking by. He doesn’t have to, but he likes to. Tease him about it and he’ll push you right back tho, probably into a shrub if there’s one near by.

nsfw

He’s such a “No, no—answer the call” kind of mf; a sadist, if you will. He lives for torturing and embarrassing you, and that applies to sex, too.

Loves the way his hands look on you, particularly splaying his hand over your stomach when he’s fucking you. Likes the heat of your body against his, when he positions himself just right to feel the outline of his dick against you, and squeezing the sides of your tummy when he gets lost in it.

Loves blowjobs, and loves to cum on you or over your face. His favorite thing tho is pulling away just before he’s about to orgasm, and jacking himself off with your tongue sticking out, ready to swallow.

Okay with threesomes, too; but he wouldn’t like to do much to or with the third person. It’s okay if they touch you—maybe even fuck you, depending on who it is—but he’s not there to get them off.

LEVI

sfw

When he cooks dinner, he always makes sure to make enough for you to have leftovers to take with you for lunch the following day. Especially if it’s a dish you’ve been wanting or try, or specifically asked him to cook.

He’s got a specific tote bag he brings with him to the grocery store/farmer’s market, and separate one for when he’s running other light errands.

He hates soda, not even just because it’s not the healthiest thing to drink—he just doesn’t like the feel of carbonated drinks; the only exception being when they’re mixed with liquor, but even then, it’s not his preference.

After a while, he just starts lying and says you’re married at places where it benefits you both, or to curb a longer conversation about the status of your relationship to people who are inquiring. He thinks it’s fucking weird that marriage is what shuts people up, but if it works, it works; less people prying in your guys’ business.

He likes giving you forehead kisses, and if you do it back, he’ll learn that he doesn’t mind receiving them either.

He’s such a sucker for you rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand when you guys hold hands. He might not act like he notices, but he always does; and somewhat craves little touches like that the longer you guys are together.

nsfw

He would never admit it to anyone, but birthday sex is up there for his favorite kind of sex. He never cared much about his birthday… until he realized he could get that as a gift. He knows it’s not different, but he likes it, nonetheless; one the few times he doesn’t mind having all the attention on him.

King of aftercare, though some of his methods usually lead to another round—in which he teases you for cancelling out his work, when you know he was just as willing and eager.

He likes edging himself and overstimulating you; and with his self-control, that makes for a pretty dangerous combination.

He’s strong and he knows how to use it to his advantage: maneuvering you with a single arm, holding both your wrists above your head with one hand, pushing your head down into the sheets when he’s fucking you from behind.

Sex is one of the few times Levi doesn’t mind making a mess—and in fact, he likes it messy; watching you drip onto the sheets, making you spit on his dick and fucking your face until you drool. He always goes on about how sloppy you are, how you can’t keep anything clean, but he fucking loves it.

[buckys-black-dress]

see through

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

a/n: i dont have much to say other than that it's 1 am and i needed to get this out of my system. chapter 4 of play the game is underway, i promise. also, there will be a pov switch in this fic!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. = POV change!

wc: 4.1k words

[ neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

-

Every Friday night, without fail, you saw the light filter into your apartment.

Notice how you said night?

Yeah, it was almost two in the morning, by the way.

And why was there light coming through the chiffon curtains you had hanging on the rod above your window?

(Great choice on your part, by the way.)

Well, because of your neighbor.

You've seen him a few times, actually. Usually on the street outside your buildings, or just out and about. Never spoke to him, though. He was quiet, kept to himself. Didn't seem very friendly or willing to exchange a greeting if he ever saw you.

But you never took it personally. Maybe he was having a bad day. Every time you saw him.

But that's besides the point. The point right now is that you can see the lights blaring in your room. From the apartment across from yours.

Should it even be possible for light to travel that far? I mean, we don't even live in the same building. You think to yourself as you watch the colors dance in the dark.

You debate getting up and yelling out your window to tell him to shut that shit off or to invest in some blackout curtains. You were tired of sacrificing your sleep every week.

But then you decided against it, because you quite frankly could not be bothered to get up from the warmth of your bed. You'd tough it out for the night, but the next time you saw him, you'd have a few words for him.

-

The next morning, it was almost ten when you woke up. You didn't have your shift at the coffee shop you worked at until three, so you took your time in making your way out of bed.

You noticed the curtains of your neighbor's apartment were still open, but you could see his figure moving across the room. He was clearly on the phone with someone, and he didn't look too happy. You wondered what could have him so angry at such an early time of the morning. He seemed like a person who could use someone to talk to, someone who he could vent to.

But before you let your thoughts get ahead of you, you turn away from the window, heading back into your kitchen to eat breakfast and get ready for the long day ahead of you.

-

"Hi, what can I get started for you today?" You ask as brightly as you can muster at the moment. You were halfway through your shift, another three hours until close.

"Uh, just a large black coffee." The gruff voice says, and it takes you a second until you look up and look closely.

It was him.

"O-okay, that'll be $3.27." You say, and he hands you a five dollar note before grumbling,

"Keep the change."

"Thanks, and your name?"

He gives you a look that's asking, 'what the fuck do you need my name for?'

"For the order." You try and salvage your dignity, because it feels like the stare shrunk you to a speck of dust.

"James."

That's all he all but growls before turning back to find a seat.

As your coworker takes over the cash register, you grab the biggest cup and fill it with his desired coffee.

You try to not think about it too much, but the anxiety you feel rising up inside you and just calling his name to give him his coffee feels absolutely ridiculous.

"Are you just gonna stare at the cup or give it to the customer?" The voice of your coworker, Jenna, rings in your ears and you look up at her, snapping out of the trance you were in.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it today, I guess."

"Everything alright?" She asks, and you nod.

"I'm fine, it's just... that's my neighbor." You nod your head towards where James is sat, in the corner by the window as he watches the raindrops run down the expanse of the glass.

"The one who doesn't let you sleep?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he'd take it too kindly if I tell him about that. He seems to have a lot on his own plate anyways," You explain, and she just nods.

"Well, that sucks, but you still need ta' give the guy his coffee." Jenna smiles and walks back to what she was doing before.

You gently slide out from your spot behind the counter and walk to his table.

"Here's your coffee, James. Enjoy, and- uh, let me know if you'd like anything else." You tell him while placing the steaming cup in front of him.

He murmurs a thank you that you barely catch, but you don't quite have the time to sit and wait for more of a reaction.

For the next several hours, James sits right where he was. He doesn't do anything in particular, either. He just watches outside, as the rain continues to pelt down on New York City, and as people come and go from where they were.

Eventually, about an hour left until close, you offer another cup of coffee.

"Do you want a refill? On the house." You ask gently, waiting to see if you'll get brushed off again.

"Uh... are you allowed to do stuff like that?" He asks, and you're a bit taken aback at the sudden concern.

"I don't think you should worry yourself too much, James. Free coffee's free coffee." You smile lightly, and grab the cup before filling it up without his confirmation. You could tell he wanted to say yes but didn't want to seem rude.

"You didn't have to..." He grumbles, and you simply shake your head.

"I know, but you've been here a while, and what kind of employee would I be if I let a customer sit here without any sustenance?" Your lips ply into a tiny smirk, trying to get him to loosen up a bit.

He seems so guarded, defensive. Like any moment, he's ready to run if need be, you inspect to yourself.

"You'd just be a regular employee, Y/N." He says, but the way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine; and you can't tell if it's a good or bad one.

You unconsciously look down at your name tag, pinned to your black apron that's branded with the café's logo.

"Well, I felt like being nice. I hope you can deal." Your voice comes out short, but he knows you mean no harm.

As you walk back to the counter, you see a small smile playing on his lips, but he doesn't allow it to manifest on his face. You take that as a small victory for your last hour of work.

(bucky's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The girl who works at this café is annoying.

But she's got a nice smile. And she's nice to me, Bucky thinks to himself.

He sips on the new coffee you'd just poured for him, without his consent, he thinks bitterly.

But it was a nice gesture.

Why can't you just take a nice gesture?

Because your brain's been scrambled eggs for 70 years. You don't know what to think about anything these days.

He watches you fiddle with the espresso maker, cleaning it with a rag, which you then dip into a bucket.

You look extremely familiar to him, but he can't exactly pin where he's seen you before.

Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, trying to recall where he'd seen you, but for a moment, he comes up with nothing.

Ever since he's been living back in the real world, he hasn't been outside too much.

He goes on the occasional walk, or goes to the tower to see Steve and Sam.

But other than that, he spends a lot of time in his Brooklyn apartment. He watches movies that Steve suggests, or he invites Steve and Sam over to have beer and watch TV with him.

He hates how lonely it gets, though.

Bucky wishes that he had someone.

Someone who could understand.

And don't get him wrong, he loves Sam and Steve. They fill in the gaps in his days, and they make them better.

Sometimes, thinking about having something to do that day is what makes it. He likes having something to do, something to plan for for when his friends come over.

But it feels like a teeny, tiny part of his life is missing. A person shaped-hole in his heart.

But Bucky doesn't spend too long thinking about it, or it'll send him into a spiral about failure and how he needs to 'push himself to get out there more.'

Or that's what his therapist says.

"Hey, we're about to close, and we usually throw the pastries out at the end of the day. Do you wanna take these home, by any chance?" Your voice rings in his ears, snapping him out of the impending slippery slope of his lack of love life.

He hesitates to answer for a second, looking at the brown paper bag pinched between your fingers.

Bucky can tell you were nervous when you spoke to him. He knew he made you uneasy, and it killed him inside.

He hated that. He just wanted to have a normal conversation with someone. But everyone seems to know who he is.

Who he was.

"Uh, what is it?" He croaks, unsure of what to say at your gesture.

"It's a few cookies and a chocolate croissant."

"Sure, I'll take 'em." Bucky simply answers, watching as you hand the bag over with a soft smile and watches you walk back.

You sweep up the floor and put up all the chairs, except for the one Bucky's sitting on. You leave his table alone, and bid farewell to your coworker who was scheduled to close with you.

Bucky doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he gets up after he sees you walk out the door, and follows you home.

Damn, if you like a girl, you usually ask for her number or somethin'. Not follow her home to make sure she's safe, you idiot. Bucky's inner voice speaks and sometimes, he wishes it would just shut up because he knows he has no game nowadays, but this is all he knows to do.

He realizes the way you're walking is familiar, and not at all of the way he was supposed to be going. That made him feel a little better, less like a creep. He's about half a block behind you, and when you turn onto the same street he lives on, he's really confused.

Did you know he was behind you? Are you trying to play a trick on him?

But before Bucky can speak up or say something, you walk right past his building, and into the one right next to it.

All of a sudden, images of you right on the street in front of your buildings flash through his head. He's seen you because you're his neighbor. Bucky's seen you right there, getting ready to start your run through the neighborhood, or probably on your way to work, now that he's seen where you work.

But he feels like there's somewhere else he's seen you; somewhere familiar.

He shakes his head, wondering why he's so caught up in you. He thought you were beautiful, but he feels a pull to you that he's never felt with anyone else before.

Bucky's hands move to unlock his door, sliding the key in and twisting the lock open.

He enters, staring at his dark apartment. It's moments like this, when he spends a long day alone, that he wishes there was someone.

Someone to come home to, to hug, to kiss, to share dinner with.

Some to fall asleep with at night. Someone to keep the terrors of the dark away.

But there was no one.

And then his mind thought back to you. Your hair, your face, your warm hands that touched his while you passed him the brown paper bag of treats.

Bucky wishes he was man enough to ask you out. Not even that, just to talk to you. Have a normal conversation, to get to know you.

But that wasn't in the cards for him anytime soon, he thinks.

For now, he focuses on taking things one at a time. And right now, all he wanted was a nice, warm shower and to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.

He's in his room, forgoing the lights for now, before he looks out his window.

For a moment, he believes his eyes are playing tricks on him.

There's absolutely no way that you are standing right there, right outside his window.

Well, in your own apartment, of course.

And there's absolutely no way in hell that Bucky is watching you undress right now.

As soon as you pull off your top, Bucky turns around before he could get more than a peek of your black lace bra, and he feels a burn in the pit of his stomach.

He can't tell if it's shame, guilt, or arousal.

(y/n's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn't stop thinking about James all day.

After yesterday, you wondered why you couldn't shake this feeling about him.

He'd made it quite clear that he's not a people person. Or maybe he just wasn't a you person.

But again, you tried to not take things too personally these days.

Sometimes, you wondered, though, as you looked through your bedroom window to his some nights.

You imagined what it would be like, watching one of those movies with him at night. Making dinner with him. Having coffee in the mornings before work, wondering what he did for a living.

You chastise yourself for your thoughts, thinking that you were crazy for these ideas you were coming up with out of nowhere.

As you pull off your clothes to get ready for bed, you feel the same emptiness fill your heart when your head hits the pillow, and another day has gone by where you're all alone.

-

The next day, your shift was at ten in the morning so you were up early.

You took your time in rolling out of bed. The warmth of your duvet was holding you down, and you couldn't help take a peek out your window.

You see that the room facing yours is finally housing a body in the bed. In all the time you'd been living across him, you've only seen him on the floor.

You feel a warm flutter at that. Whatever reason led him to actually sleep in the bed last night was, you hope you played a role in it.

-

You make your way to the café, and although walking in the rain wasn't ideal, you made it, somehow.

You clock in and head to the register, ready to take the millions of orders that come in through the day.

"Hi- oh! Welcome back. What can I get you?" Your tone of voice made it clear you were surprised, but was trying to not let it show.

"Uhm, just the same as yesterday, and... Can I get a chocolate croissant?" Bucky's gruff voice tells you.

You ring him up, wondering if you should say something about him being your neighbor. Although, he didn't seem too keen on looking you in the eye right now, and you wonder if you did something to make him uncomfortable yet again.

He seems to have this issue quite often.

Little do you know, this time, it isn't because of you or anything you did.

Well, nothing you did on purpose.

Nothing you were aware of at the time.

Anyways, you tell James to go take a seat and that you'd be right out with his order.

"Here you go, James," you place the plate and mug on the table, and this time, when you hear him say something, you turn around with furrowed brows.

"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said." You apologize, waiting for him to repeat himself.

"I- nevermind, it was stupid anyways. You probably have to get back to work." He mumbles while looking back down at his pastry.

"James, whatever it is, you can tell me." You offer with a kind smile. "I can come sit with you during my break, if you don't mind?" A hopeful smile crosses your face.

"Uh, I- yes, yeah, that would be nice." He struggles for a moment, but finally nods his head in confirmation along with his words.

"Alright, James. I get off in an hour for my break." You simply tell him with a soft grin, and you can practically feel his eyes burning into you as you walk away.

The blush creeping up your cheeks also stays there until the remainder of your shift.

-

As you plop in the chair across from James, you inspect him for a moment.

He was attractive, you'll admit.

Okay, he was more than attractive.

"So, James, where are you from?" You ask, your own cup of coffee in front of you on the table.

"Well, I'm Brooklyn born 'nd raised. Never was a time I didn't live here. You?" His lip twitches, looking out the window fondly.

"That's nice. I moved here when I was nine, so I guess I've been here a while. But no matter where I go, there's nowhere like home." You smile.

"There really isn't, huh? This place is irreplaceable." He gives you a crack of another smile, and you find yourself yearning for more from him. Just a tooth, something.

"Well, do you live around here?" You ask, deciding to play coy. You wanted to see what he'd say.

"Uh, yeah, actually. Over on DeKalb and Clinton." He clears his throat, the hint of a smile on his face melting right off.

"Huh, that's so funny. I live on those streets too." You grin, waiting to see his reaction.

"O-Oh really?" James doesn't really know what to say without giving away that he knows where you fucking live.

"Yeah, isn't that funny? Which building?" You're pressing, and you know he knows, but you're having your fun right now.

"T-the uhm... I live in the Washington." He's now making zero eye contact with you, and you're close to breaking.

"What a coincidence! I live in the Oakley!" You're in a fit of giggles when his face drops, you just can't help it anymore.

"James, can I tell you something?" You ask in a coquettish manner.

"Yeah, I suppose you'll tell me even if I say no." He gives a tight smile as a joke.

"I don't wanna sound like a creep, but I knew you lived in the Washington."

"Oh," James releases a breath of relief, "thank God. I knew you lived in the Oakley, but I didn't wanna sound like a stalker either." He says.

You laugh, sliding a hand on top of his resting on the table.

"Y'know, you do this really annoying thing where you leave your movies running on full brightness on your TV, and I can see it through my windows at night." You laugh at the incredulity of the situation.

"Oh... I never even thought of that. I'm sorry, Y/N." He looks genuinely remorseful, and now you feel bad for any bad thought you've had about the man that lives across from you.

"It's alright. No big deal." Your smile does a good job of convincing Bucky that you truly weren't bothered by his actions, but he still felt bad.

"Y'know, maybe I could make it up to you?" He asks, and you feel a blush moving up your chest. "Like, maybe over dinner?" His voice is timid, you can tell by the way he tilts his head down while speaking.

"James," you slide your hand into his this time, your smaller one resting in his large metal one. "I'd love to go out with you sometime."

Before he could react, you stood up from the chair.

"My break's over, but I get off at 3." You lean down and pull a pen from your apron, scribbling your number onto a napkin. "Here."

You walk away before he could say anything, but there's something about him this time that you notice.

He's blushing, too. And he's smiling. A bright, white, blinding smile.

You think of that smile throughout your whole shift, until you see he's still waiting for you when it's time to go.

"So, do you like Chinese or Italian better?" He asks with a crooked smile.

-

bonus scene:

six months later

You and Bucky are laid across your bed, the TV blaring a movie that neither of you are paying attention to. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg thrown over both of his, and his hand running through your hair.

"You wanna know somethin' doll?" Bucky asks, and you feel his chest rumble under your head.

"Yeah, everything okay?" You ask while leaning up on your elbow to get a good look at him, trying to gauge his mood.

"Everything's okay, just remembered something." He laughs, his hand moving to hold your jaw in it. You shivered at the touch, but smiled fondly at the action.

"When I first saw you at the coffee shop, that first day when you gave the free coffee and pastries... I followed you home."

Your brows furrow and it's clear that you were confused as to why.

"I wanted to make sure you got home safe, and then it turned out that you lived right next to me. So I went up to my apartment and wondered what I'd done right in a past life to have you live right next to me, and then I saw you lived right across from me." His face was tipped upwards, like he was replaying that night in his head.

"You followed me home just to make sure I was safe?" You asked in disbelief that he did something so nice for you, when at the time you thought he hated you.

"Of course, sweetheart. It was dark out and there 're some real jerks out there, y'know." One corner of his mouth lifts up in a soft smirk. "Didn't want anything to happen to ya."

You lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, appreciating his gesture.

"I really thought you didn't like me back then, so this is a nice little secret you've been hiding from me." You giggle when he pulls you back in for a real kiss.

"Yeah, well, I don't think I could'a hated you if I tried, baby. You're too sweet. And at the time, I was still getting used to being out in the open without being a national security threat." You both laugh lightly, dropping your head down.

A moment passes where you bask in his words, letting them soak in. And then a thought hits you, and you can't help but become more curious. Now you need to know the answer.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, hon." Now Bucky's brows are pulled together, and you reach up and smooth out the wrinkle with your thumb.

"Did you ever... see me doing anything in here? Like, I usually keep the curtains open, and even if they're closed, they're pretty see-through..." You trail off, giving him time to craft his response.

You have a feeling you know the answer, considering how he turns red like a tomato in an instant as words leave your lips.

"I... there was this one time, but I swear, I wasn't trying to peep on you or anything, it was the same day I followed you and I just so happened to look into your window, and you were getting undressed, but I swear, I turned away as soon as I saw what you were doing, baby-" He was rambling, trying to save himself from sounding like a complete creep after all he's just told you.

"Did you like it?" You ask, innocently, but he knew what you were trying to do.

"I-I- You were getting undressed, sweetheart, of course I liked it... are you kidding me?" Bucky's grasping for the words, trying to make you understand.

"Well... we could always recreate it, but maybe in the same apartment this time?" You cock your head to the side, your doe eyes stirring a feeling in his abdomen.

"I think that's an excellent idea, honey." Bucky's hands grasp your waist as you slide on top of his lap. "After all, I am a hands on learner."

-

fin. i hope you enjoyed!