#I’m wearing next to nothing already the next step is ripping my skin off

[malachitezmeyka]

It is. 37 degrees outside. And the fan is only helping so much. And I haven’t had anything since breakfast but it’s too hot to be hungry. I’ve been trying to draw all day bc I’m bursting with ideas but the heat is leaving me completely unable to make anything look even half decent. If I die bury me in the depths of Siberia so I never feel heat again

[kingofpopmj]

This Passion Burns Inside Of Me

Summary: As Michael performs, all he can think about is your eyes on him.

Pairing: Michael Jackson x Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Requested: yes

*Michael’s POV*

“I’m ready!” Y/N beamed, strutting out into the living room of our hotel suite. She posed in front of the me, holding her purse against her hip, little did she know I had already been watching her every move.

I’m completely enamored with everything about her. The way she curled her hair, concentrating with the tip of her tongue between her lips. The way she bent over the counter, puckering her lips in the mirror as she applied lipstick. The way she tilted her head to the side, closing her eyes as she sprayed her perfume.

I stood up, my eyes roaming her body, I hadn’t blinked in at least five minutes. I needed to take in every detail of the sight before me. My girl. A shimmering white shirt, hugging her figure just right, the fabric looked so soft against her skin, I’d give anything to be that close to her. It was tucked into tight leather pants, accentuating her lovely curves, dangly chain belts hanging from her waist. This woman could make a fashion statement wearing a potato sack. I watched closely while she adjusted the straps of her black heels, oh, I am a sucker for those too. They made her legs look so long and added that extra pop to her walk. Wow.

She looked phenomenal.

She’d look even better when I rip it all off of her.

“Is this okay? Do I look good enough to be seen near you Mr. Jackson?”

“You look perfect. You know we actually have a few minutes to spare before we need leave.”

“We do?”

“Yes, and lucky for you, I have some worth while ideas for us to pass the time.” I responded, playing with the collar of her shirt.

“Oh, really?”

“Mhmm.” The moment our lips touched, I knew I’d be late for the show, but it was so worth it. The scent of her perfume made my heart race. Her touch sent jolts of energy through my body. She made me feel so alive.

“Michael!” A muffled voice and loud footsteps interrupted us. I rolled my eyes, pulling Y/N into a closet with me.

“Wh—” I quickly covered her mouth with my hand and using my other to hold her closer to my body than necessary.

“Michael!” The voice was moving closer, it was then I recognized it as Frank. He hates when I’m late and even more so when I hide from him. “Dammit! Michael we have ten minutes to get—” the closet door flew open, revealing my very angry manager.

“Hey Frank, how are you?” Y/N smiled, trying to break the awkwardness. “Beautiful weather we’re having, don’t you think?”

“You dear, are a bad influence.” He stated simply, turning to walk away. “We have to go kids, you can play footsie later.” He let out a deep chuckle, waving his hand in the air to get us to follow him.

“You always get me in trouble.” She stuck her tongue out at me, before walking out and leaving me alone in the small space.

“Wait. Come back!” I whined.

“Let’s go.” She held her hand out to me, which I took quickly, like a lovesick little puppy. I was completely and utterly at her mercy. “I promise we will finish what we started later.” She kissed me tenderly, the taste of her sweet lips leaving a tingling feeling on my lips. “When we have all the time in the world.”

The drive to the venue felt like a personal attack. She’s sitting next to me, but I wanted her on me. I glanced down at her legs, fighting the urge to slide my hand up her thigh. She has to know how much she’s torturing me right now.

This was going to be the longest night of my life.

I hadn’t even been on stage for five minutes before the yearning reached new heights.

I couldn’t help but notice how her hips moved along with the music. Everything about her was so damn distracting, so damn alluring. The way her top hung low enough to accentuate the curve of her beautiful chest. I wanted nothing more than to bury my face right in between her perfect breasts.

I missed a few steps and forgot a few lyrics just knowing she was a few feet away from me. The thought of her dancing to the sound of my voice made me feel like I could bust any second. I needed off this stage and in her. I needed to be inside of her more than I needed air.

She smiled brightly when I glanced over at her, if she only knew I was imagining all the possible ways I could ravage her.

I needed to feel her perfect skin against mine.

My eyes found hers again as I signaled for the band to take over. I ignored the confused looks as I scurried off to the side of the stage, grabbing her wrist and dragging her along with me.

“Michael! What are you doing?” She asked loudly, securing a hold on my arm with her other hand. “You’re really squeezing my hand!”

“Here.” I gestured with my head, taking her into a tiny secluded corner backstage. I dove into her lips, sliding my hands down, gripping her ass with all my strength. My grip was tighter than the fabric around my growing erection.

“Michael.” The sound of her voice filling my ears as the taste of her faded from my tongue. “Babe. You left in the middle of a song. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I need you.” I begged, my voice vibrating along her skin while I sucked on her neck. “Right here. Right now.” I murmured, unbuckling my belt and dropping pants. I’ve never moved so fast in my life.

“Michael, someone could catch us.” She rested her palms on my chest. “When I said we’d finish what we started later, this is not what I meant.”

“Well, then, we will have to be quick.” Ignoring her last statement and the way she emphasized the word later. I lifted her up, laying her down on top of a large amp before she could respond. I was quick to unbutton her bottoms, ripping them off her legs.

“Michael—”

“I’ve been dying to taste you since I watched you get ready for tonight.” I buried my face in between her legs, the sweetness of her essence, causing my eyes to roll back as I was flooded with pleasure. “You have the prettiest pussy.”

“Oh. My. God.” She propped herself up on her elbows, watching my every move with lust filled eyes. “Shit! Right there!” The bass from the amp, sending continuous waves through our bodies, the need for each other matching the intense frequency of the music. “Michael!” I felt her fingers snake through my hair, her soft moans telling me everything I need to know as I sucked harder on her clit.

The sound of footsteps traveling up and down the hallway, heightened our senses. I knew they were looking for me, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. The way her body shivered under my touch, her sweet voice whimpering for me, every part of her was perfect.

“Let them know baby.” I urged her to scream my name, knowing how much she was struggling to keep quiet.

“They’ll hear us. Oh—” I pulled away and looked deep into her eyes. She looked flustered as I slowly moved my fingers across her thigh. “Where are you going?” She pouted.

“Baby, you gotta let them know.” I began leaving a trail of gentle kisses in her inner thighs. “Let them know how good I’m making you feel.”

“Michael, I don’t want them to find us.” She whispered nervously, I halted my movements again.

“Well, I guess we can just stop and head back out there.”

“Michael!” She said loudly, sitting up quickly and gripping my collar. “If you leave me here after you got me all worked up, I swear—” I kissed her roughly, stopping her attempt to intimidate me.

“We won’t get caught.” I said against her lips, my fingers roamed her body, finding my way deep within the most precious part of her. My fingers dancing in a circular motion, her walls were pulsating as my thumb rubbed in her clit.

“Oh. My. Michael!” Her head fell back, chest rapidly moving up and down. “That feels so— Michael! Oh!” She bit her lip, droplets of sweat forming on her forehead while she struggled to catch her breath. I was loving it.

“You look so hot right now.” She looked at me, her eyes darkened before she hopped off the amp, wrapping her legs around me. I stumbled, my back colliding with equipment cases, carefully I sat on one and guided her to sit on my lap. She didn’t waste anytime lifting herself up, I could feel her warm folds massaging my tip.

“Babe, you—” she pushed her hips into me, the smooth skin of her ass laid against my thighs and she held my gaze. My cock was enveloped with her warmth. I shut my eyes, focusing on the sensation of her body on top on mine, the sweetness of being buried deep inside of her. Oh, she feels so good.

“Now, let’s hear you.” Her soft voice sounded into my ear, her thrusting was painfully slow, but so good, so lovely to watch. “Let them know baby.” She repeated my words to me. A devilish smile spreading across her face.

She tugged at the zipper of my silver long sleeve, her eyes roamed my chest as she squeezed at my bare shoulders. She wet her lips with her tongue. I watched her intently, her eyes focused on me, looking at me through her long eyelashes. Oh, shit. This woman is going to be the end of me. Closing the space between us, she kissed me, her lips moved so tenderly against mine. The strength of her tongue was mesmerizing, I could feel her affect on me all throughout my body.

“Y/N—” I replied lowly, too high off of watching her ride me.

“No. No. No.” She stopped her hips, holding herself close enough, keeping only the tip of my dick inside of her. She knows exactly what she’s doing to me.

“Please.” I squeezed her hips, begging her to move against me again. “Baby, please.” The sudden halt in movement was driving me wild. I needed to be inside of her. I needed to feel every part of her, more than I’ve ever needed anything before.

“Please what?” She lowered herself slightly, a shock of energy shot down to my toes. She feels so good, I need more.

“Y/N, please.” I let out a shaky breath. “Baby, I need you.” My hands lingered, tracing the goosebumps littering her skin. “I need to feel you, all of you.” My fingertips dug into her ass, feeling helpless as the desperation took over me. “Y/N, baby, fuck me. I want you to ride me. I need you to—”

She took me all in quickly, her movements sharp and full of emotion. I pushed her top open, admiring her beautiful breasts bounce in front of me. I felt my body shiver at the sensation. The moans falling from my lips were like nothing I’d ever heard before, but it felt spectacular.

“Fuck!” My hips buckled, no amount of her was too much. I want it all. “I’m gonna—”

“Do it.” She ordered breathlessly, her kisses getting harder as her hips continued to hypnotize me. Fuck, how did I get so lucky.

“Baby—”

“Cum for me.” She interrupted, her voice low with her command. I moaned into her mouth as that sweet feeling built up inside of me. The rhythm of her movements intrigued me. Through tired eyes, I watched as she moved up and down, her warm walls convulsing around me. I tried to catch my breath, resting my face against her breasts and nibbling at her smooth skin. “That feels good.” She hummed, I wrapped my arms around her waist, desperately needing something to hold onto. Her every movement was heavenly.

“Oh! S—Shit.” I groaned breathlessly, I felt weak, being with her was intoxicating, but to cum inside her was a whole different feeling. She makes me feel so alive.

“I can’t believe we just did that.” She giggled into my neck. “I kind of want to do it again.”

“Oh, now you’re talking.” I pounced, pinning her hands up above her head. “Why is it that I always want to be inside of you?” I whispered over her lips.

“Michael?”

Y/N squealed, her eyes widening as I fell on top of her, doing my best to cover her body. I turned my head slightly and I saw my bodyguard, Bill, he was awkwardly staring at the ground, trying to look anywhere but us.

“Hey Bill, what’s up?” Y/N asked innocently, for the second time today. I quickly gathered her clothing off the floor, shielding her body with mine as she got dressed.

“Uh, hey doll, um— Michael, you gotta get back out there.” He was turned around, his back to us while we frantically helped each other look presentable again.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.”

“Again?” Y/N whispered to me, stifling her giggles against my chest.

“If you’re up for it.” I mumbled back.

“Michael.” Bill’s stern voice stealing our attention again. This time he was back looking at us, I couldn’t tell if he was upset or impressed. “You have to—” he pointed behind him, in the direction towards the stage.

“We were just heading back!” I smiled, walking past him, my arm hung proudly around my girl.

“Well, that was risqué.” Bill was shaking his head. “I could’ve went my whole life without seeing or hearing any of that.”

“We were just talking.” Y/N’s voice put a smile on my face. She wasn’t the least bit convincing.

“Sure doll. Whatever you say.” Bill replied sarcastically, a deep husky laugh erupted from him as he followed closely behind us.

As we walked through the curtains, I could see the stage, but I wasn’t ready to part from her.

“That was perfect.” I rubbed her back, slowly pulling her into me and lifting her up off the ground.

“You’re perfect.” She smiled, biting at her bottom lip. “I really want to kiss you.” She pouted.

“What my lady wants, my lady gets.”

I placed her back on the floor, dipping her swiftly and kissing her perfect lips.

“I’ll see you soon.” She smiled.

“I can’t wait.” I shouted, running back on stage as a deafening roar sounded from the crowd.

As the beginning chords of Another Part Of Me played, I began dancing around the stage. Y/N was dancing, she looked so happy, she was always so supportive. Finally, she noticed my stare, looking back at me. I spun, pointing at her as I came to a stop, keeping up with the beat of the instruments. Her eyes widened, I could tell she was holding back a smile. She pointed at her pants then at me. What?

She’s mouthing something to me.

What?

She put her hand above the zipper of her pants, mouthing again.

“Zipper.”

I continued dancing, discretely feeling below my belt. Crap.

She watched on worriedly, her hands resting on the sides of her face and mouthing the words “I’m so sorry.” My girl. I could tell she was blaming herself, she always cared so damn much, so I laughed it off, winking at her.

We’re sendin’ out

I sang quickly into the microphone, spinning around, throwing my arm in the air and posing with my back to the audience.

A major love

The crowd sang back as I took the opportunity to zip up pants.

And this is our message to you

Y/N was giggling, blowing kisses to me as I brought the microphone back to my mouth. There were thousands of people present, millions watching the live broadcast to witness my little incident. I should be consumed with embarrassment right now.

The planets are linin' up

I should feel shame.

We're bringin' brighter days

I should feel humiliated.

They're all in line waitin' for you

Yet, somehow I wasn’t. I was happy because seeing that beautiful smile on Y/N’s face brought me all the comfort I needed.

Can't you see?

You're just another part of me

[zorosleftshoe]

Fat, Funny, Friend - (c.b)

Pairing: Colby Brock x plussize!fem!reader

Warnings: Body dismorphia, self hate

Summary: Colby has always dated skinny women, sometimes you just need a little reassurance

Disgusts. Rage. Guilt. All feelings I became overwhelmed with as I looked at how the dress hugged every curve, every roll, that the glittery black dress outlined as if putting it on display. Instinctively, I tugged at the tight fitting fabric in an attempt to loosen it from my skin but it didn’t budge. A heavy sigh rolled off my tongue as I shrunk in defeat. A light knock on the door ripped me from my thoughts and away from the sad girl staring back at me from the mirror.

“Are you ready, darling?” Colby asked peaking his head into the room to respect my privacy as much as he could. “I don’t want to rush you.” I shook my head frantically and swallowed down the negative words that threatened to spill from my lipstick stained lips.

“Let’s go before I change my mind again.” His eyebrows furrowed together in worry but he obliged by sticking out his elbow and waiting for me to clasp my hand around it. With one last unforgiving look, I glanced back towards the mirror and watched as our two silhouettes mocked me. “Maybe I should stay home.” The suggestion fell on deaf ears as Colby had already gone into business mode with his eyes fixated on the two men in front of us.

“Sam!” Colby used his free hand to give Sam a half hug before looking to the brunette next to him. “Nate! So good to see you guys. Thanks for meeting us here. It just makes sense to ride together, no?” The two men nodded in agreement before I caught Sam’s gaze.

“Are you sure you want to wear that?” He asked referring to the strapless dress that clung tightly to my chest making it nearly impossible to breath and my heart began to hammer in my chest at the question. My eyes darted around the room as I frantically thought of an answer to his question. ‘What’ fell from my lips before I could form a coherent thought. “It’s cold outside. Are you sure you want to wear that? At least wear a jacket. We don’t want you getting sick!” I inhale deeply at the realization and happily accept his hug as he takes two steps forward.

“What’s up, bitches?” My heart drops at her voice. As if on cue, Amber walks into the room dressed in a gorgeous floor length gown. The baby pink mixed with a sharp gold that leaves you breathless. “Hi, Sam.” Her eyes lock onto Colby and I can’t help but hold my breath. “Colby.” Amber was a goddess. Someone who could walk into a room and catch the eye of everyone in it. I knew if it came down to Colby choosing between us I would never be his first choice. Honestly, I feared I wasn’t even on the roster.

It was no secret that before Colby and I met he had exclusively dated thin women. Of course, there was nothing wrong with that. Every body is beautiful and that is something I have always stood behind. Especially when the world isn’t always kind to women who look like me. The second we had gone public comments came flooding in by the handful. I had never seen so many whale comments in my life. High school hadn’t even been that bad and that was a horrid experience.

“You okay?” I nod but I can tell Colby isn’t satisfied with my answer. “We can table it for now but I want to talk about it later.” He presses a gentle kiss to my temple before stepping away to entertain Amber in a quick conversation. Sam noticed my uneasiness and tapped my shoulder.

“They’re just friends.” I nodded in response but failed to swallow down the bubbling fear of Colby leaving. “I’ve never seen him as happy with anyone as he is with you. I’m stoked he found you.” With a half smile and a firm hand on my shoulder, he saunters off to the next person before we’re all piling into the van that would be our Uber.

“Colbs.” The name is rushed as I graze over the number of seats as well as the number of people. Not enough room. Never enough room. Colby leans down so his ear is hovering next to my lips. “I,” I hesitate already feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I won’t fit.”

“Nonsense, baby. Of course you’ll fit.” He attempts to pull me forward with the hand he has resting on my left side but I don’t move. “Baby-“

“Colby, I really won’t fit. As embarrassing as that is to admit, it’s the truth. In a couple seconds we’ll be the last ones standing here and then everyone will know why I don’t want to get in the van. Amber will know.” His eyes widen in disbelief.

“What does Amber,” he pauses and lets out a heavy sigh. “You can sit on my lap. But we have to go.” Once again he attempts to step forward with me in tow but I stand my ground.

“I’ll crush you. You should just go without me.” He shook his head and finally turned his body to face me giving me his full attention.

“This is an important night for me. You know I want you there. You’re really gonna stay home because you’re scared of a seat?” I knew he didn’t mean it with ill intent but I could see his rising anger behind those baby blue irises. A bitter chuckle leaves his lips and he uses two fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose before raising his hands in surrender. “Do what you want. I can’t be late.” I watch as he climbs into the already crowded van and shuts the door. A few seconds later it pulls off and leaves me standing in the driveway in my fancy attire. Tears threaten to spill as I trudge up the long staircase to Colby and I’s shared room.

The mirror facing the door is the first thing I see upon entering our bedroom. A sob escapes my lips at the sight I see. A girl with sad eyes and mascara stained cheeks stares back at me and I quickly claw at the zipper of the dress before tugging it off my body and kicking it somewhere in the room. I dress myself in a comfy sweater and warm sweatpants before throwing a blanket over the mirror and flopping down onto the bed. Hot tears roll down my puffy cheeks as thoughts of Colby and Amber run through my mind.

Hours passed before the door finally opens and Colby steps into the room. The top buttons of his shirt are undone and his jacket is nonexistent. He takes a look at the mirror before noticing my position on the bed and slowly sitting next to me. I don’t need to look to know he’s thinking of what to say. A gentle hand touches my back and begins rubbing it in a soothing motion.

“Can we talk, love?” I turn my head towards him and watch as his eyebrows furrow together at the sound of my sniffling. “I’m sorry about earlier. I know how that would have triggered you and I should have been more understanding.”

“It wasn’t very ‘live, laugh, love’ of you.” I whisper trying to relieve the tension between us only to be given a disapproving look. “It is what it is.”

“Baby,” he moves from the bed to kneel on the floor so he’s eye level with me and uses his free hand to move a few stray hairs out of my face. “That mirror doesn’t define who you are. The way you look doesn’t define who you are. You are so beautiful to me and I know it’s hard for you to believe given the girls I’ve dated in the past, but honey,” he pauses searching my eyes for any sign of understanding. “I am so in love with you. Every inch of your skin. No matter how much there or how little there is. You will never be too much for me.” More tears fall from my eyes as I process his words. “You don’t need to cover the mirrors with blankets because you don’t like what you see. That woman you see staring back at you?” He rises to his feet and holds his hand out for me to grab. Hesitantly, I take it and he leads me to the mirror before slowly removing the blanket and taking a place behind me. “You see her?” I hum in response not tearing my eyes away from the ones that stare back at me. “She deserves love too.”

“How can I love something like that?” Colby moves his hands from my shoulders slowly down my neck. I watch as he traces the crest of my breasts and moves down to the excess skin I try so hard to hide.

“The same way I do. I love every part of you.” He places a sweet kiss at the base of my neck before resting his chin on top of my shoulder. “I will love the parts you hate even more. I’m sorry that you don’t see yourself the way I do, but I promise I won’t stop trying.” I turn away from the mirror and face him. He grazes his hands along my arms pulling them with his to place them around his neck before moving his hands to my waist. “I love you. I will say it every second of every day if that’s what it takes for you to believe it.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Colby chuckles and presses his lips against mine.

“I think the more important question is, what did I do to deserve you?” I shake my head and lean in again to catch his lips is a sweet kiss. “You’re beautiful. So beautiful.” He places a hand on my right cheek and gently traces the apple of my cheekbone with his thumb. “Now what do you say we go get a milkshake and you tell me about that new show you want to watch?” My heart flutters at the words and I smile.

“You really are perfect.” He laughs and kisses me once more before taking my hand and leading me to the door.

[cleewii]

TEASE

pairing: gyutaro x fem! reader

rating: m for mature

content warning(s): suggestive content. clothes get taken off. nothing actually r18+ worthy. unfinished work. mentions of violence—people getting eaten. reader's not all there upstairs.

note: hi. i’m back. i was digging through my notes app and found a bunch of unfinished works so i figured i’d post them since i actually really like how they turned out even if they’re just rough drafts. expect a surplus of unfinished works of mine throughout the next couple of weeks, i’ve got a lot to go through. i’m trynna heal my relationship with posting my work online, and this is the first step.

i do not permit the reposting/uploading of my work on any platform. not even with credit.

he’s practically keening at the soft dig of your fingers on his hip bones, dipping into the curves and ridges of his body as though he weren’t some grotesque thing, staring up at him as though he could possibly deserve that awe struck look in your eyes.

he groans, the sound rumbling from his throat in a broken wave before he dives down and lets himself indulge in the sweet smell of your skin.

he won’t let you perch yourself on his lap, or hug him too tightly, or even look at him for too long, but it’s not because the thought of you seeing him makes him feel ill. no of course not. and it’s definitely not because he’d rather rip his own skin off and eat it then let you decide he is a disgusting monster unworthy of your time.

hes grown possessive, but isn’t that a given? aren’t we all possessive of our prizes, our jewels, our gold, and we hang them so daintly across ourselves like medals to proclaim something of worth to the world.

you are a shining treasure in his eyes—a name in the impossibly short list of people who matter to him—and he’d rather die then let you hate him.

so no, you’re not allowed to do this, touching him so softly, drinking him in like hes worth it, and no your not allowed to press those sweet kisses to his skin, or guide his hands to your hips and thighs, let him feel you up. he really should stop you, his bones are aching with the need to push your hands away, snarl and growl like the bruttish thing he is, because the worst thing, the absolute worst thing he could do is ruin you.

if he slips up, and let’s you get too close, he’ll do it, he just knows it.

you are flawless; he shouldn’t have the right to touch you, and yet the selfish part of him wants to take you, all you, leave as many marks as he can, stains and mares, just to prove that this was real. You were real, and you were here choosing to be with him, letting him lean over you and eat you up.

he’s seen you with other men. quietly hidden in the shadows, peering in through the walls all just to get a glimpse of you. the jealousy swells each time, threatening to take over whenever a hand so much as grazes across your skin. he wants to devour you, claim you, mind body and soul, and wear you like a battlescar he hopes never fades, but his hands can only twitch on either side of your head.

“Gyu…” You sigh, “you can touch me you know. it’s okay.”

he huffs, head snapping away, refusing to look at you any longer then he already has.

“don’t be stupid.” garbled and warp, his voice is like a broken radio, flawed. he wants to swallow the words and die with them choking him.

“this is torture,” you whine, tracing your hands up his chest, “all you do is look at me, but you won’t even touch me? ur a real tease ya know….”

it’s that pouty tilt in your voice that forces him to look again, and he’s met with the pretty sight of your eyes, glossy with tears he knows only mean trouble.

“don’t be a brat.” he glares, fingers digging into the fabric of the comforter beneath the two of you.

“i didn’t even drag you here or anything. you’re the one that got all weird and quiet, ‘n if you really wanted me gone that bad you wouldn’t have kept going out of your way to find me. don’t lie gyu, you want me as bad as i want you.”

i want you….

he shakes it away. absolutely not. he couldn’t—not ever!

“please,” you whisper, leaning up until your lips brush against the shell of his ear, “please gyutaro….”

“you’re a real sicko, ya know…” he hisses, as though your voice scalds him down to bare flesh. his fingers move to dig into the skin of his neck. scratching and scratching away as though he can rip out the sinful thoughts he’s been having ever since youd perched yourself here. They go against every instinct he’s ingrained into himself. every painful lesson beaten into his body.

“do you get some freaky kick outta me or something? you lookin’ down on me? i could kill you right now ya know, could slit your throat and eat you like m’supposed to.”

“then do it.” your gaze is unchanging in its chagrin. “if you want to so bad—if not eating me is agony—then go ahead n’do it. i dare you.” you squirm a bit under his body. “here, i’ll even make it easier.”

your fingers go to undo the strings of your yukata; the soft fabric going slack as you continue down the row that stretches along your middle. the sleeves fall past your shoulders, hanging down dangerously low, inches away from revealing the swell of your chest.

he watches with a dry mouth as you move to pull the rest of your garment off, and it’s the sliver of skin above your naval that sets something off.

your wrist gets caught between his hands, and you look up to meet his desperate eyes.

“what the hell do you think your doing?!” he practically shouts into your face.

“you said you wanted to eat me right? well i don’t recall meals ever being dressed up before they’re served, so i’m doing you a favor and getting rid of the stuff in your way.”

“well stop!”

“okay,” you roll your eyes, frustration leaking into your voice as impatience replaces your self control. “then if it isn’t the clothes, tell me why you won’t eat me? that’s what your kind do isn’t it? eat human beings. hunt them down, torture ‘n kill them. so tell me, gyutaro. why won’t you kill me?”

he doesn’t reply. practically refuses to.

“i know you’re not above murder. just admit that you like me. admit it n’ill leave you alone, i swear.”

annoying. like a fly, buzz buzz buzzing around him like his attention would somehow quell you.

Insolent.

Cocky.

It pissed him off to no end, the lack of fear, your inability to comprehend just how deadly he was.

you sat yourself down next to him like he was nothing more then a boy you knew. as if he couldn’t tear you apart, rip flesh from bone like it was second nature, as simple as it was to breathe.

If only you would make this easier. if only you didn’t tease.

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Hi, hello there~ Are you still accepting unhinged asks? If so, in the nudity comfort scale – ranging from “occasionally engages in streaking, as enrichment” to “s/o won't see his ankle until at least three years into the marriage” – how would you sort the 501st (or your favorite squad!)?

Abso-fuckin-lutely I’m still accepting unhinged asks!! Gimme! (I’ve been feeling pretty grimy these last couple days, so writing anything series is fighting me a bit. This was a perfect little escape! Thanks!)

I know you said “or” my favorite squad… but why not both? (well, ish. This was already pretty much answered for CF99 in the fresher question, so we’ll ignore them)

501st

Rex – Oh this man is very hesitant to take the next step. Courteous to a fault, when things get steamy for the first time, he’s constantly pulling back until you gently guide his hands to your shirt, and you’ll likely need to be the one to start tugging at his clothes, too. He’ll just worry he’s overstepping unspoken boundaries or moving too fast. After the first time that tension gradually eases, though. He isn’t likely to stroll naked and proud through your home anytime soon, but he may join you in the shower, and, if you ask nicely, he might start leaving his shirt off at night.

Echo – Okay, he’s not a prude. Really. He just makes sure to let you take the first step. Once your intentions are clear, however, he’ll readily pull his shirt off knowingly watching your face for the coming flush of appreciation. He’s not nearly as cocky as his twin, but he knows he looks good. While he isn’t likely to surprise you with a wealth of exposed skin throughout the day, he quickly figures out what seeing him walking around topless does to you and uses it to tease you on occasion.

Post Citadel – Much less confident. The first several times you get him undressed, you’ll need to shower him with constant reassurances that he’s still gorgeous, and even after, he’ll still have moments of doubt. His body is different. There’s no dismissing that. Just be patient with him. He deserves it, and he’ll eventually start to believe just how much you still love him.

Fives – He’s naked when you meet him. So’s Heavy. Don’t ask. Once you two get serious and if you’re receptive, he has no qualms in shedding the layers of armor and cloth, shameless of the body he’s proudly developed into stunning perfection. And for the life of you, there’s not a single argument to be made against it.

Hardcase – In his defense, he really thought Fives had taken his blacks, so ripping them off the arc seemed justified at the time. Of course, it wasn’t until later he realized he’d forgotten them on his bed… Aside from that initial mishap, however, he’s quite pleased with his physique, so he’s very eager to flaunt it. Constantly. So much so that you’ve taken to shouting a warning when you get home if you’ve brought anyone with you just in case he needs to cover up…

Jesse – He lounges in shorts and nothing else. It’s not even a sexual thing, he just likes relaxing like that. Give him the slightest encouragement, however, and that little garment goes flying across the room and he’ll have you in his arms before it hits the floor.

Kix – Medics are born without a care in the world about nudity. His. Yours. That drunk gungan at 79s. That being said, he’s not going to just strip the instant the door closes behind him. Undressing in itself is an act of intimacy, and he’s eager to savor that with you when you’re both ready for it. This man eases the clothes from the both of you like he’s unwrapping a precious gift, fingers slow and full of patient intent, lips smirking at your every gasp. He treasures the closeness of those moments, so isn’t likely to lessen them with casual nudity.

Tup – He really doesn’t even think about there being anything promiscuous to not wearing a shirt. I mean, he was practically raised by Fives and Hardcase, so that’s just a part of life. When he sees you noticing him the first time he casually goes about bare chested though, he’s simultaneously embarrassed and pleased. He’ll apologize and offer to cover up. Don’t say yes. Don’t you dare. You worship that sweet man like the treasure he is. He’ll be a bit more aware of being dressed around you afterwards but is happy to change that by your request.

Dogma – You don’t even get to see his arms until after marriage. Is it worth it? Yes. Does he damn near have a meltdown when you take off your shirt? Also yes. It’s almost concerning. After two or three nights, however, he actually calms down pretty quickly. But only with you.

104th

Wolffe – He doesn’t really flaunt like, say, Fives and Hardcase. Flaunting implies there still being a need to attract you. He knows you want him. There’s no shame or really even thought given to underdressing – it’s just a step he needs to get through in order to take you like you’ve been begging him to all night. You undressing, however, is something else entirely. He goes perfectly still, watching you utterly enraptured. Seeing you bare is something he’ll never get used to. While he doesn’t feel the need to try to lure you to bed by showing skin, if you wander about in, say, shorts and a tanktop, he’ll forget whatever he was doing and just stair at you with that hunger in his eyes until you notice him. Then it’s only a question of if he takes the time to get you to the bedroom first when there’s a perfectly good countertop right there…

Sinker – It depends on his mood, honestly. If he’s feeling good, he’ll go about shirtless feigning ignorance to what it does to you. If he’s not in a great headspace though, he’ll barely let you ease him out of his armor to snuggle up next to him even though he knows it’ll make him feel better. This man has a lot going on in that head of his, so being adaptive and patient is a must.

Boost – He’s a goofball through and through. He’ll go about in his skivvies like he forgot to put on pants just to see you blush. “Oh noooo, oops; how long has that been like that? I’m so embarrassed.” And then proceeds to not put pants on.

Warthog – Similar to Jesse, he likes to lounge about in shorts when he’s relaxing. It’s not meant to mean anything – he’s just comfy. But if he notices you looking at him? Yeah, he’ll flex and flash you that little smirk, then laughs when you blush which only makes you want him even more. He’ll tease you about being caught staring at him like a piece of meat, but he loves it.

Comet – This sweet man is very much like Echo in this regards. He knows you love to look at him, but he doesn’t use that to try to get your pants off as quickly as he can. He’s far more eager to make sure the lead up has you both desperate for each other before even taking his shirt off. He’s in no rush and wants to savor every second with you. He’ll absolutely snuggle naked with you afterwards, though. He’ll even fall asleep like that, which is just such a shame come morning…

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[moranasgrave]

Thinking about Moving in with Rockstar!Connie

warnings : NSFW, a lot of kinky shit idk, cursing, not proofread i’ll come back later n do it lmao i’m tired gang 🤣 (this will probably be a fic soon too i have a lot of ideas for rockstar connie 😏)

You’ve finally made the big step of moving in with your boyfriend connie springer.

He’s the lead singer and electric guitar player in his band ‘DOOM’ named by him of course. He was tired of getting apartments with his friends and he wanted to finally have some peace and quiet with his girl.

You guys met at one of his concerts a few months back. You absolutely entranced him. The smudged black eyeliner you had on, your short black skirt with the lace underneath, the bone clips and your ripped up black tights, tied together with the large tshirt with the bands name on the front.

You nearly made him mess up one of his riffs because he was staring so hard.

You also thought he was so fucking hot. easily the hottest one out of all 4 memebers, Eren, Armin, and Jean being the other 3. They were cute but Connie just had that way about him and that bright smile with all those sexy tattoos. Always wearing his black eyeliner smudged around his eyes and sometimes his lips as a clown look. He sung so beautifully and heartfelt you felt like he was speaking directly to you. His voice was your favorite sound in the world.

He brought you backstage after the show to get to know you. You guys clicked instantly, ever since then he’s been so obsessed with having you around. He would even bring you on stage with him at concerts after you guys got serious, of course bitches we’re jealous, but that’s the price of dating a celebrity. Connie didn’t care though, watching you dance so passionately eyes not moving from him once, made him fall so hard for you.

Connie got you guys a nice small little house in the town were the paparazzi and fans won’t find him. He made the basement a studio so his band could still practice there from time to time. He made sure you had a separate room to yourself for your hobbies too of course. His princess had everything she wanted in this small castle of theirs.

Your chilling in the studio with just the 3xl version of the band tee you have and some panties, playing with some random tracks like you always do.

Connie barges in the room with nothing on but some socks and a tight pair of boxers. “Ah there’s my princess, what you doing in here”, he says smiling as he makes his way over to you sliding in the rolling chair beside you.

His body was your weakness, riddled with so many tattoos on almost every part of his body. His abs weren’t rock hard but his skin was always so soft and smooth you preferred it. His fat bulge always prominent even on soft. Just looking at him made you horny. “Nothin im jus playing around with the sound board, so wassup with today”.

Connie could barely contain himself right now. Seeing you in his shirt knowing you had only had panties on right now was making him feel like a caveman. Sure he’s seen quite of few girls in bed, but they could never compare with you. Everytime he looked at you all he could think about was how he wanted to fuck you next. You were his weakness, sexually and emotionally everything about you was so sexy.

“The boys are coming over to practice in a couple hours so i figured we could break the house in before they come”, he scoot closer and pulls you into his lap. You feel his large bulge already growing as you turn around to straddle him. He pulls you in for a slow sensual kiss bringing his hand under your shirt feeling up your breast.

He moans as you start grinding on him slowly, tucking your arms under his. He takes his hand off your beast breaking the kiss to slide his boxers off. You slide your panties off too and start grinding on him again harder this time. He takes your nipple in his mouth looking up at you with his eyes half lidded. You moan loudly when he suddenly slides inside of you. “The studio is done, let’s go to the next”, he rasps between his moans.

He stands up with you straddling him still, him getting deeper inside of you as he stands up. He walks you guys into the bathroom putting you up against the wall and slamming into you. You dig your nails down his back causing him to groan pushing deeper into you. “You feel so fucking good, i can’t stand it”, he says going in to start marking up your neck.

“Fuck this, you’re gonna make me cum and i need the bed”, he grabs you off the wall practically bolting to the bedroom. He tosses you in the middle of the bed crawling on top of you and spreading your legs apart. “Look at how wet you already are, god your so fucking sexy y/n”, He waste no time diving his tongue into your folds, licking and sucking at your clit like he’s hungry.

You clutch your legs around his head feeling overwhelmed by all the moving. He forcibly spreads them apart again licking slower and looking you in the eyes. “Fuck connie..i’m gonna cum”, you moan as you buck your hips further into his tongue. “Cum with me baby”, He says as he trails his way back up to your lips, slowly sliding himself back into you. You squeeze your eyes shut already feeling that knot in your stomach untangle. Connie breaks the kiss sitting up again pounding harder and slower into you.

You feel his dick twitch inside you, “Oh my fucking god i’m gonna cum princess, cum with me”, he says throwing his head back in pure bliss, eyes rolling to the back of his head. Seconds later your feel your knot snap finally releasing yourself on him, his cum filling you simultaneously.

He bends back down kissing you slowly, “Next time we’ll hit every room, your too sexy right now i lost my cool”, he says rolling to the side of you. You laugh and peck him on the nose “I’ll hold you to that rockstar”.

[shit-enmu-says]

Phantasmagoria: Part 5

Notes: It’s been a while since I had the chance to write. This is basically me easing back into things. Keep in mind, Muzan who makes a cameo here has an agenda with the Tamio’s which is the only reason he’s being polite at all and that’s all I’m saying for the time being.

It had been a week since the autopsy was completed. In spite of what he witnessed Enmu kept his silence. He agreed with the initial conclusion that Sato had fallen off his boat and drowned, his body later scavenged by animals after it washed up.

Yet what he saw continued to eat at him. Every night Enmu returned to those woods in his dreams. Dark shadows chased him through the woods until he tripped and fell to his knees. Claws and sharp teeth tearing into his flesh, ripping his body apart until blood filled his mouth and he collapsed.

Once he awoke screaming. When Ayumu entered the room, cross at being roused from slumber so late at night, he had to weave yet another lie. It seemed like lying was all he did these days.

“Are you having night terrors again, Enmu? I thought you’d grown out of this,” he had scowled. “Ah, forgive me, Ayumu-san,” Enmu had replied, door just barely cracked until he was able to compose himself. “No, it’s not that at all. I saw a large spider craw across my work desk, but not to worry. Everything had been taken care of. It simply took me by surprise, that’s all.”

“All that fuss over a little bug? And you call yourself a man,” his brother had scoffed. Enmu’s hands twitched from where he had them clasped behind his back, as if itching to strike his brother across the face. However, he only smiled politely as he nudged open the door with his foot. “I thought it might have been venomous,” Enmu replied, “It’s gone now though. I caught it and put it outside, now it won’t bother anyone. May I brew you some tea to help you get back to sleep?”

“I don’t think anyone will be sleeping after that ear splitting shriek,” Ayumu complained, “but I’ll take the tea. Chamomile, no honey, and make it extra strong.”

The next morning Enmu headed to work in the dark. It was late September, the days were already getting shorter. September was an odd month. Summer still clung to life, most of the leaves on the trees were still vibrant and green. Yet the morning breeze had the slightest chill to it and smelled of frost. As Enmu turned down the street that would lead him to work, he collided with something solid.

He stumbled back to see a tall dark haired man before him. He appeared to be in his late twenties. His skin was paler than even his own, his eyes a deep crimson color. Judging by the ornate black and gold western style suit he was wearing, he had to be rich, yet Enmu had never seen the man in his life.

Mentally chastising himself for staring, Enmu bowed his head. “I apologize, sir,” he replied, stepping out of his way, “I was on my way to work. I should have payed more attention to my surroundings.”

For a moment Enmu could have sworn the man’s pupils were slitted, reptilian. Perhaps it was his mind playing tricks on him again. After all, he’d seen stranger things. The man said nothing, turning to walk away before stopping dead in his tracks. “You said you were headed to work, right?” the man asked.

“Yes,” Enmu replied, staring down at his boots. “Wait,” the man said, turning to face him,“Do you work here? At this clinic?”

“Y-yes, I just started as a matter of fact,” Enmu said quietly. He wasn’t sure he liked the way the man was staring at him. It wasn’t a leer, really. It reminded Enmu more of the intense stare a cat gives a cornered mouse. He had no idea what to do. Unless they were a patient, people usually ignored him. He took an uncertain step back. The man stepped forward. Enmu’s back hit the wall. Why do I feel the urge to run?

To his shock, the man held out his hand. “Shingetsu Koutsuki. You must be Dr. Tamio.”

Enmu stared at him wide eyed for a moment before shaking his hand. Why were they so cold? Not even his sickest patients had such icy hands, yet he resisted the urge to jerk back. Clearly Shingetsu was an important man, now was not the time to forget his manners.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Shingetsu-sama,” Enmu said, still unsure of what this was all about. “I’m the one who will be purchasing this building,” the man replied.

Buying the clinic? What was he talking about? Enmu’s confusion must have shown on his face. “I suppose your brother neglected to tell you about this,” Shingetsu continued, “He sold the clinic and the apartment above to me.”

“That place?” Enmu asked, “No one goes up there, not even me. It’s been abandoned for years since the old janitor who used to live there passed away. No windows either. Surely a man of your standing would prefer to live somewhere less gloomy.”

“It suits my needs perfectly,” Shingetsu replied, “There is no need for concern, Dr. Tamio. You will still be permitted to use the downstairs as a clinic. I only wish to renovate the building, as it is quite old.”

That was when Enmu remembered Ayumu complaining about a competing clinic opening up a few miles from them. “We are losing customers, we’re losing money,” he had rambled, “If we don’t do something soon the clinic may be forced to go out of business because we are not making enough money to continue running it!”

The building was old. Ancient in fact. Possibly the oldest building in this part of town, yet still functional and stronger than most. Their father always had said it would sell for a small fortune, but even during hard times never once considered selling it himself. “I love this old place, Ayumu. One day I will pass it on to you, as my father did for me, and his father did for him. I want ownership of that building kept in the family, understand?” Things must be even worse than Enmu imagined for Ayumu to consider selling the place to a stranger.”

“I understand,” Enmu replied, “Forgive me for my rudeness. My brother and I will do our best to run things quietly so as not to disturb you.”

“It’s perfectly fine,” Shingetsu replied. At that, he glanced over his shoulder. The deep violet of the sky was just beginning to fade to lilac on the horizon. Shingetsu’s eyes widened.

“Is something wrong, Shingetsu-sama?” Enmu asked. “No, nothing at all,” he said, brushing past him and hurrying up the stair well on the side of the building, “Good day to you.” With that, he unlocked the door to the upstairs apartment, quickly disappearing inside.

What a strange man.

[sukirichi]

— there’s always a price to pay when you get your hands on a work of art.

PAIRING: tattoo! artist megumi x reader

REQUEST. tattoo artist au + mutual pining + size kink, praise kink, thigh riding + reader is shorter than megumi and isn’t shy 

WARNINGS: feral megumi, scratching, vaginal sex, size kink, praise kink, mature content, slight overstimulation, sexual tension lol, unedited story

NOTES: ah thank you so much for this request, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Here is my third contribution for FERAL MEGUMI FRIDAYS! and oh wow tattoo artist megumi uh no thoughts head empty

WC: 5.4k+

The tattoo saloon loomed over you, the neon signs almost blinding in the darkness. You could feel your heart pick up its pace in your chest as you hitched your bag up higher, the excitement settling in your toes. Mustering up the brightest smile you could have, you cleared your throat and pushed the door open, the tiny bell on top jingling to signal your arrival.

Your eyes roamed around the walls covered with intricate drawings, the leather seats dark and kept in pristine. Now that was rare – your leather couches always wore out in just a few weeks.

Making your way inside, grip on your sling bag still tight, you bit your lip as you peaked behind the counter. Empty. No one was there, and the nearby opened rooms were empty as well. Scratching your head, you scrunched your nose in confusion. You were sure you got the right place.

With a heavy sigh, you turned to leave, then stopped in your tracks when a dark-haired man exited a door you hadn’t even noticed at first.

He was tall – taller than you; his arms stretched until the sleeves of his black hoodie were pulled down, revealing a sliver of black tattoos that marked his skin. Upon hearing your awed gasp, his cold blue eyes fluttered to yours, the man – who was absolutely handsome despite his frown – froze in his spot.

You waved a hand to him, your smile bigger than ever. “Hi!” So you would be working with this cute guy? Maybe job-hunting wasn’t such a bad experience, after all.

“Hey,” he drawled out hesitantly, approaching you with his ink stained fingers pointed at you. He was still frowning, which was a damn shame, since you were sure he’d look even hotter if he smiled. “So...you’re Y/N.”

“Yeah!”

“And you...” he tilted his head to the side, inquisitive eyes studying your form. You would’ve felt conscious with the way his brows furrowed, eyes unreadable and lips pressed into a thin line, but you were sure you dressed to impress on your first interview. You admitted, however, that maybe wearing a white collared shirt with a pink tennis skirt made you stand out like a sore thumb in the heaviness of the studio. “...want to be a front desk man here?”

“Yeah!”

“What makes you think you’re qualified for this?” he crossed his arms on his chest, and you didn’t miss the slight bite of his voice. So he was handsome – but cranky. Great. “You don’t look like you fit in here.”

“Judging someone’s appearance and inferring that it has any relation to their credentials isn’t such a professional thing to do, you know,” you raised your chin proudly, jutting a pointer finger to his chest. He clearly didn’t expect this because he scowled and took a step back, while you fought the grin that threatened to paint your face. “Would you like it if people told you that you’re not qualified to be a lawyer because of your tattoos and piercings?”

He scoffed, “I don’t want to be a lawyer. As you can see, I’m a tattoo artist. And to answer your question, no, I don’t give a fuck what people think about me.”

“I can tell,” you muttered to yourself before smiling back up at him. He was too easy to read; his brow quivering and lips firm at your faux enthusiasm. “But yes, I do believe I’m qualified! I’m a fast learner and I’m even quick on my feet! I’m really good at talking to people too so I believe I can help schedule client appointments really well and guide them with this whole process.”

“Being front desk man doesn’t mean serving the clients tea and biscuits.”

“I know.”

“You know?” he snorted with a roll of his eyes. He then gestured you to follow him all the way back to the front desk. You expected he’d teach you about how to handle the appointment books or pick up phone calls, but instead he plopped down on the leather couch of the waiting area, his legs crossed on top of the other.

Your eyes followed the patch of pale skin exposed from his ripped jeans before you looked away, not wanting him to see that you found him attractive despite his less than welcoming personality.

“What exactly do you know about this industry?”

“Nothing, to be honest, but I’m not here to be a tattoo artist or anything. I just really need a job and I assure you I’ve got plenty of experience and knowledge when it comes to manning front desks or counters,” you stated confidently, “I know I look out of place, but I really need this job.”

The man only narrowed his eyes at you. Contemplation was written all over his face, probably wondering why you couldn’t just work somewhere else. “Why come here, of all places?”

“Because it’s the only one that has a flexible schedule,” you sighed, “I can’t work shifts anymore because I’m too busy at university. From when I talked to your boss – Geto, was it? – he said that the salon was open 24/7 and I could work until before my classes start. He’s not really strict about that kind of thing.”

“So you mean to tell me,” he leaned forwards, looping his fingers with one another while his ice cold gaze slithered over your desperate ones. “You’ll be at university for half the day, sleep until midnight, and then come here to work and attend class a few hours later? Isn’t your schedule a little irregular?”

“Oh no, it’s not like that! I also have mock classes after uni and it lasts until late at night, then I help clean at the local shelter. They’re running out of volunteers and the dogs are really adorable and take my stress away so...I make sure to come by when I have time.”

“You are one odd creature,” he noted loudly, almost as if he wasn’t completely aware he vocalized his thoughts. Well, at least now you knew he wasn’t the type to think his words over, which either made him more entertaining – or insufferable the longer you worked with him – if you began working anyway. “You could’ve used your spare time to rest. Do you even eat?”

“Yeah, I have a granola bar right now with me! I actually brought two,” you pulled out the snack from your bag, “You want some? I only got the oats, though.”

“Keep it to yourself,” he rolled his eyes, slapping his hands over his knees before rummaging over something behind the counter. “Fine. If Geto said he’s okay with you, then you’re hired.”

“Really, that easy?” your eyes widened, but then you chuckled when this strange man glared at you in response. He sighed as he pulled out a piece of paper, a pen on top of it. The papers read something about application forms and credentials, and you beamed, happily writing your information away with a slight bounce in your toes.

Unable to keep your happiness to yourself, you looked back at the bored man, wiggling your eyebrows playfully. “Huh. I was kind of expecting you would grill me – you’ve got that scary look in your eye. Let me guess, you often scare clients off?”

It seemed he could never get tired of glaring at you, because his eyes fuelled with heat as he leaned against the wall.

You hated to admit that he looked ridiculously handsome like that – the guy wasn’t even doing anything remotely attractive in the first place!

“I’m the most booked artist here, and I ask that you don’t get too comfortable with me. You haven’t even started working here and you’re already riling up on my train,” he groaned when you merely laughed in response. He made quick work of signing something in your form before handing you a key. “Here’s for your locker. Come to work tomorrow. Geto won’t be around for a week so I’ll be the one judging your performance. If you fuck up in the slightest – I won’t hesitate to fire you, you understand? We always have Yuuji coming around anyway, you’re really not that needed for the front desk.”

“Oh,” you nodded at his harshness, unsure whether to feel threatened or amused. “O-okay. I’ll do my best then. I look forward to you – ah, wait, what’s your name?”

“Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Oh, that’s a pretty name,” you muttered to yourself, uttering his name over and over again until it rolled smoothly on your tongue. “Shame you have a shitty attitude along with that handsome face, though.”

“You trying to say something?”

You faced him, about to laugh when he scowled at your not-so-subtle comments. Waving your hands to him, you made your way out the door, your smile only irritating him further. “No, I wasn’t. I’ll be taking my leave then – see you tomorrow!”

Seems like working in a tattoo studio wouldn’t be so bad.

You came to work the next day early and pumped with adrenaline. The idea of meeting the moody tattoo artist caused you to be giggly and happy the whole day, not even feeling the exhaustion of a long day of hard work as you made your way inside the shop.

Clocking in at exactly two in the morning, you proudly tugged your name badge on top of your left breast, patting it for good luck.

The bells jingled, making you look away from your tag. “Good morning – oh, where’s Megumi?” The man standing in front of you was taller than Megumi, his head nearly knocking over the doorframe if it wasn’t for his poor, slouched lanky frame.

He had white hair that brushed atop his cerulean blue eyes, and your eyes widened because wow, he was beautiful.

“Hey, you must be Y/N! Megumi told me you came around yesterday but he didn’t tell me the counter girl was this pretty,” He was in front of you the next second, his nose nearly grazing over yours that had you leaning back into the wall for space. “Hmm...he didn’t tell me that at all.”

“Oh, thank you. You are...?”

“I’m Gojo Satoru, one of the senior artists here. Since Megumi isn’t here yet, let me give you a tour!” Before you could react, Satoru already had an arm wrapped around your shoulder, his other arm waving and pointing to all the hung paintings and labels on each door. You found it odd that he treated you like you were an old friend, but you weren’t going to complain. Nice co-workers were always welcomed.

“Here is the holding area where clients wait to get their session done. This is Geto’s studio and right next to that is his office where he does all the finances and all that jazz, while this is my studio. Cool, isn’t it?”

Your mouth fell ajar as Satoru led you inside his studio, the walls painted the same aquatic shade of his eyes, but what caught your attention was the galaxy themed tattoo designs he made. They came in different shapes – a volcano head, a dragon, a worm, a four-armed monster – but inside them were all galaxies with sparkling and burning stars. You could see everything and nothing all at the same time.

“Whoa, you made all this?!”

Satoru’s chest puffed out proudly, “Yeah, I did. I’m flattered by your reaction, I really am, but you haven’t seen Megumi’s yet. There’s a reason our salon boomed even though he’s only been working here for two years.”

At the mention of his name, your interest was piqued, all ears and curious smiles directed to Satoru. “Oh, can I see Megumi’s studio?”

“You can – if you book an appointment.”

“But I don’t plan on getting any tattoos,” you frowned.

“You’ll never get to see his work then,” he chuckled to himself, the sound growing louder when you visibly deflated. What was the point of getting your hopes up like that then? “Megumi doesn’t like letting others in his studio without permission or an appointment.”

“Why not?”

“He’s just iffy about it,” he shrugged, “Don’t bother trying to decode his personality anymore, Megumi’s very hard to understand. Though if I were to make sense of it...” he rubbed his chin, eyes looking out into the distance. “I guess you could say Megumi’s not the type to be showy when it comes to his work of art. Did that clear it up?”

You blinked back blankly. “No, not really. But it’s fine – I don’t plan on getting to know him anyway.”

That was the biggest lie of your life.

The moment Megumi came around a few minutes later, a loud groan upon your animated greeting over his arrival, your chest bloomed with a different kind of fluttery warmth. He rarely came out after that, clients swarming in to both his and Satoru’s studios, but each faint glimpse of his door cracking open that allowed you to see him focused as he worked, you could no longer deny the heat burning down your legs.

You crushed on the grumpy tattoo artist.

And the more you came around work, greeting him zealously and teasing him to no end that he’d look hotter if he smiled, your crush only intensified for him – completely unaware that he too, couldn’t get his thoughts off of you even with his door closed.

In fact, he kept his door closed all the time because your voice distracted him too much.

“Hey, Y/N, you free?”

You looked up from the textbook you were reviewing, slamming it shut when Satoru’s head peeked out from his studio. He was still wearing gloves with a pen between his fingers, most likely still in the middle of a session.

“Yep! We don’t have appointments yet and I’ve already closed it for non-appointees. Did you need me to get you something?”

“Yeah, could you get Megumi for me? He isn’t picking his phone up and one of our special clients are coming soon. I’m packed right now so I can’t fetch him. I’ll send you the address and you get him, yeah? Just open the counter if you need money for a cab.”

You blinked owlishly at him. On one side, you’d be more than glad to see Megumi again. He hadn’t arrived despite it being four in the morning already, and you were worried, but you also didn’t have his number to ask how he was doing. Progress with Megumi was...slow, to say the least.

He still holed himself up in his studio, coming out only for bathroom breaks, although you noticed a drastic improvement when he finally began to mutter an almost shy “good morning” under his breath for the past few weeks.

It wasn’t much, but you’d have to make do.

“Uhm, when is this client of his coming? Should I run...?”

“Yeah, you need to fucking run. They’re coming in an hour and a half!” Satoru exclaimed, flailing his hands around like a madman.

Even after working with him for some time, you still couldn’t believe the older man was practically a man child, even asking for head pats sometimes. He would lean down with a pout, using a squeaky voice to call your attention, which always succeeded in Megumi fake gagging before he locked himself inside his studio.

“Forwarded you his address. Really sorry for the inconvenience, Y/N!”

“It’s okay!” you jumped out of your seat in an instant, not bothering to take your name tag off anymore as you left the salon, hailing the nearest cab.

Megumi lived quite far from the salon, which had you wondering why he chose to work there when there were plenty of salons in his area too. His place looked shady, as well, his apartment in a high-rise building with endless graffiti and several drunk stragglers hooting for you.

You ignored them all, taking two steps at a time from his staircase, your hands on your knees as you panted for air. Why did he have to live on the tenth floor?

“Megumi! Megumi!” you banged your fist on the door, throat parched from your sudden cardio session. You were sure you burned ten calories just from that sprint, and you sighed in relief when Megumi swung the door open, still looking handsome – and sleep-deprived – as ever in his black shirt and black skinny jeans.

“What?” he demanded. After seeing that it was you, he quickly snatched a water bottle and passed it your way, closing his door behind him. “Y/N? What are you doing here? How’d you know where I live?”

“Satoru said you had a really important client. You weren’t picking your phone up so he sent me to come get you.”

“It’s my day off,” he grumbled, answering your silent questions, your worries dissipating into thin air. Once you’d satisfied yourself by basically dunking the entire bottle, Megumi rolled his eyes, his hands flat on the small of your back while he guided you downstairs. The sudden touch flamed your cheeks; a stupid smile on your face. You were shameless, though, leaning back closer to him in the darkness of the early morning. “Why does he send a girl out of all people?”

“Something wrong with that?”

“It’s unsafe. My neighbourhood isn’t the best and who knows what would’ve happened to you if some goons came out?” Megumi hailed for a back, surprising you when he let you get in first and paid for the fee despite your outstretched hand prepared with the bills. “I can’t believe Sukuna chose this day to come of all times. I can never get a damn break.”

“Sukuna?”

“A special client. He’s a really huge tipper and comes on odd schedules – I didn’t think he’d come now.”

“Yeah, I checked the papers and he wasn’t there,” you frowned to yourself.

Megumi pressed his head against the window, eyes closed as his chest heaved up and down rhythmically. With the sun slowly shining from behind you, the golden stretches of it outlined his sharp features you adored, and you rested your chin on your palms, eyelashes fluttering at his beauty. “You know, Megumi, you’re really pissy sometimes – but you’re quite nice, aren’t you? I’d say you were even worried for me.”

He cracked one eye open, those blue eyes still shining with irritation, but make no mistake since his ears were flushed red. “I’m not. I just don’t want to be involved in a police investigation if they find your body near here.”

“How sweet of you.”

“Shut up.”

You and Megumi were beginning to get closer. You couldn’t pinpoint where he started to grow more comfortable with you, but it was definitely there and it was painfully evident that even someone stupid like Satoru noticed the sexual between you two.

He would always sniff the air whenever you and Megumi sat next to each other during lunch breaks, a wide grin on your face while Megumi buried his face in his hands, groaning because he knew the moment Satoru opened his mouth, nothing but dumb comments would come out. And dumb comments they were; the white-haired man merciless as he teased Megumi for acting like a cute little kid around you.

You never took it to heart, though. It was Megumi you were talking about; he was hot and cold; sweet then distant from one moment then an entire person the next.

Not that you minded, it only added to your fuelling crush on him, but you couldn’t control the way your heart fluttered every time Satoru whispered that he did like you, excusing that Megumi just wasn’t the best with words. Apparently, Megumi had spent too much time holed up in his apartment and studio that he had zero to little knowledge on how to talk to pretty girls – especially one that was clearly attracted to him as well.

Satoru encouraged you to go for it – that you should confess or break the ice first otherwise Megumi would never do anything about his raging boner every time you came around.

You only flushed at his statement, but you couldn’t deny that you too felt the same way.

One morning where Satoru and Geto were out restocking supplies, you and Megumi were left alone in the salon. Of course, he still resorted in the comfort of his studio, muttering under his breath that he wanted to try some designs before disappearing. Only this time, he left the door slightly open, the lights peeking through the slight crack.

Walking up to him with muted footsteps, you leaned over his shoulder, glancing over a sketch of...you? “Are you drawing me?”

Megumi yelped at your voice right next to his ear, throwing the paper away on the other side of the room before glaring at you. You laughed at his reaction, because how was it possible he was both so criminally sexy yet adorable? He looked terribly gorgeous today, as well, wearing a short sleeved black hoodie and black sweatpants, looking so comfortable and boyfriend like – and you couldn’t even begin to express your appreciation over his new lip piercing.

“Why do you always sneak up on me?” he snapped, “Didn’t I tell you I wanted privacy?”

“Then why aren’t you pushing me away?”

Megumi sighed exasperatedly, turning back to organize his pencils before glaring at you. “What do you want? Got no one else to bother since Satoru isn’t around?”

“I just wanted to see your art,” you mentioned, but kept your eyes directed on him instead of the plethora of sketches and designs hanging from his wall as to not offend him. “Satoru told me to never come inside. He said you’re really...private when it comes to your works,” you furrowed your brows at the last part, feeling your heart beat pulse at your tongue.

It was now or never.

“Can I see your tattoos too?”

“Why do you want to see them?”

“A work of art on a canvas who’s also a work of art himself?” you finally gained confidence to tease him again, getting riled up further when Megumi stiffened at your curious hands travelling under his shirt. His breath sharpened as his glare only deepened, though he didn’t make a move to stop you. “Why wouldn’t I want to see that?”

“Being flirty doesn’t work on you. It’s not cute.”

“You’re blushing though,” you remarked. Megumi groaned and pushed your face away until your buttocks landed on his recliner. Satisfied with Megumi not completely kicking you out, you swung your legs back and forth, still staring at his hoodie as if it was an offensive material.

“Can I...see?” Megumi rolled his eyes before he lifted his shirt up, revealing to you intricate patches of black ink splattered over ripples of muscles. Your mouth salivated, and somewhere down there, you drooled too. Tentatively, your hands reached out to finger the image of canines, Megumi shuddering over your cold touch on his warm skin. “It’s beautiful. What does it mean?”

Megumi pursed his lips before whispering, “These are the dogs I had as a child. My father got me them so I wouldn’t be too lonely when he’s away from work.”

“They’re very pretty. They look like black and white wolves,” you smiled, elated that he was opening up in more ways than one. Your touch flitted over to a winged creature under his left collarbone, small letters beside the image. “And this bird? Nue? He’s so majestic,” Your hands never stopped in trailing over his skin like a lost wanderer, sweeping over ink ink until Megumi completely discarded his hoodie to the side, his back faced to you.

A white viper tattoo stood large on his broad back, crawling until over his shoulder with the fangs ending just above his pecs. Megumi swallowed at each slivering touch, your fingers dipping and caressing every dent and curve of his body.

You couldn’t get your eyes off of him, your breath hitching in your throat as one of your hands gripped his biceps subconsciously. “You’re so beautiful.”

Megumi stiffened when your thumbs grazed over his nipple right next to the viper’s fang. Almost as if a switch was triggered inside him, Megumi growled, ducking to capture your lips with his in a sloppy, heated kiss. His hands tugged at the ends of your hair to arch your neck to him, his knees slapping your legs open before he settled comfortably between you, his low groans mixing with your breath moans.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. From the moment I met you,” he nibbled your lips, hands trailing down to thumb at your hipbones. “I knew that innocent good girl look was nothing but an act.”

You smiled through the kiss, a tiny gasp falling from your lips when Megumi pulled you closer until your heat grinded against the hardness inside his pants. Laughing at his harsh movements, you let Megumi tilt your head back, his lips sucking and teeth gently nipping at the sensitive flesh of your neck.

“Innocent girl?” you echoed, legs now wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. “What makes you think I am?”

“White lace panties? Short tennis skirts and sunshine smiles?” Megumi clenched his teeth, his hands eager as he tugged the white lace down until it looped to your ankles. You gasped, back arching when he thrusted two fingers inside you, curling and fingering against your bumpy walls. “You’re not fooling anyone, baby, especially not me.”

“Took you long enough to understand I wanted you though,” you chuckled through broken moans, eyes shut tight while your legs opened wider, heels digging into the hard cushion of his seats. “I was wondering when I’d get to break you from that tough guy act of yours and have you fuck me good,” Megumi growled at your words. You leaned forward to scratch at his chest, your tongue licking the shell of your ear as you rasped, “And on a side note, I am a good girl – only to those who can make me feel good, of course.”

Megumi cupped his palm to collect your arousal dripping of his, finally shutting you up when his fingers grazed over your sweet spot that had you clenching around him. And those were just his fingers. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I know,” you nodded smugly, hands coming up to tug harshly at his hair. Megumi hissed at the sharp pain, prompting him to fuck his fingers in and out of you faster until you leaked down to his chair, thighs trembling and your high-pitched moans coating the walls of his stupid. “Megumi, ah! Just shut up and fuck me already – been wanting you long enough.”

“Needy little girl,” He pressed you down on the reclining seat, settling between your legs before he spread your lips open with two thumbs. At the sight of your bare cunt clenching around nothing, Megumi groaned, teeth biting his lip because he could cum right then and there. “Fuck, look at you. So wet already,” he ran a hand over your slit to collect your arousal, eyes dark with lust as your juices webbed between his fingers. “All this for me? You’re so good.”

“Fuck – yeah, yeah I am,” you leaned back harder into the seat, groping at your own breasts while you nodded dumbly, too fucked out to even form a coherent response. “Going to be good for you, Megumi, gonna make you feel good.”

“Sorry, babe, maybe next time. I’m too impatient to not feel your pussy around me,” he pushed away at your hands that planned to pump his cock, his hand coming down to push you hard against the seat until his weight loomed over you.

You felt Megumi begin to align his tip at your center, dampening his mushroom head with your arousal first that had you both moaning left and right.

Hands scratching down his back as your teeth dug into your lips, Megumi pushed into you with one thrust, the sudden stretch making your legs shake and your body writhe underneath him. “Shit, why are you so tight? So fucking warm and perfect,” he rasped next to your ear, and you could hear how hard he was breathing as he thrusted into you, his cock hitting all the right places.  “Could fuck this pretty pussy all day, baby, shit.”

“Me-Megumi – t-too big!”

“Shh, you’ll be fine. You’ll take it like a good girl, won’t you?” he cupped your cheek, grinning sinisterly as he watched the way your greedy walls sucked him in. “See how you take me so well? You’re so small and pretty wrapped around my cock. I could break you if I wanted you,” he growled, his hands gripping hard at your hips when you clenched around him, enticing the man above you to quicken his pace.

Megumi watched with a lust filled gaze as your breasts bounced at the relentless pace he started, his balls slapping at your ass. “Oh, you’d want that, wouldn’t you? You want to be stuffed with my fat cock in you? Fuck you until you’re a drooling mess? You’re so gorgeous when I fuck you stupid.”

“Yes, Megumi, agh. Keep going, keep going, I’m so close!”

“Oh, you feel like heaven around me,” he praised at your neck, his cock stretching you wide and pushing into you. Megumi groaned lowly at your ear as his palms flattened over your stomach that bulged every time he thrusted in, his balls tightening at the sight. “Look at how big I am for you, baby, but you’re doing so well. You were made for me – made to take my cock, shit, you’re so perfect around me. Gonna make you feel good, yeah? You’re such a good girl for me. Cum, baby, that’s right – I’m allowing you to cum.”

“Gumi, Gumi, fuckkk,” your legs tightened around him as Megumi panted with each harsh thrust, the black marks over his skin expanding and stretch when his forearm rested beside your head. His muscles clenched as he fucked into you deep, over and over again until he pushed you over the edge.

A silent sob left your lips when you came around him, your juices creaming around his cock. A few thrusts later, Megumi fell on top of you as you felt him spill his seed inside you.

He had too much that you felt both your cum dripping down your ass; Megumi pulling out with a slight wince from the oversensitivity. You struggled to catch your breath as you laid there, legs wide open and the cool air hitting your bare pussy. The door was still open, and Satoru and Geto could walk in on you both looking like this, but you couldn’t care, not when you could barely feel your legs.

You dropped your arm over your face, hearing Megumi pull his pants back up. “That was...”

“Intense?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, wincing as you sat up. Your hair stuck to your forehead in sweaty clumps, dawning on you now that you were still very much covered in your sticky cum. You recoiled from the seats as you realized Megumi hadn’t even put on a towel underneath.

“Shit. Is this chair even clean?”

“I sanitize it every after session. Don’t worry about it,” he rolled his eyes, his tattoos covered and hidden from your sight once more when he pulled his hoodie over his head. Megumi retrieved a clean towel from his drawers and wiped at your sensitive pussy, your legs immediately closing around his hands when the towel accidentally grazed your clit.

Megumi gripped your knees with a silent glare. “Stay still. I’m cleaning you up.”

“I didn’t peg you as an aftercare guy. Thought you would leave me hanging here,” you teased, but really, you were feeling warm all over again as you watched Megumi wipe you all the way down to your other hole, your legs still tensing up.

Once he left to wash his hands, you could relax, tugging your panties back up with immense struggle. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d fuck you good – you could barely feel your legs now.

“And have you make a mess by ruining my seat?” he sighed as he returned, helping you seady yourself while he snapped the slightly soaked panty back to your core. “No thanks.”

“You’re so mean, Megumi. I’m hurt.”

He rolled his eyes at your pout, leaning down to kiss you square on the lips. This time around, the kiss wasn’t rushed; it was slow and sensual, firm yet gentle, and his hands carefully massaged your sore hips that would soon bruise from his grip before.

“No, you’re not,” he mumbled through your lips, mimicking that lovesick smile on your face as he pulled away. “But babe, you know the rules. Now that you’ve seen my work of art – what tattoo would you like me to give you? My name on your inner thigh?”

[atinywhore]

chapter 1

ateez x reader

word count: 2873

warnings: violence, use of knife, swearing, a pathetic man but what man isn't pathetic am I right? , mentions of previous abuse, drugging?

an: this chapter one to my mafia series. this will turn into a yunho x reader over time but its gonna be a slow burn typa thing ;p. I have been dying to write this and get it posted and share with the world! please be kind, give lots of love and enjoy you dirty hoes:)

p.s: I'm getting this ins just in time for yunho's b-day! SO happy birthday to our puppy! I love him and dear god I hope none of them know about fan fiction and how crazy we all are lol

also lol I have playlist that I wrote this too... if you'd like to listen to it lmk and maybe I could drop the link..

tag list: @ch0isa99ie @mingigoo @ateezinmymind @wickeddarkness-place @whatudowhennooneseesyou @teezers99 @mirror-juliet @spiderlilyfics

edited 01/12/24

~

The sound of bone crunching and the metallic smell of blood flooded my senses, drawing me from my swirling thoughts. “Do you know how much you owe us old man?” The newly opened cut bleeds, the bright red liquid now running down his cheek and onto his ripped wife beater. Stuttering in fear at the man wielding the knife in front of him, trying to get his response out. “Huh? Can’t fucking speak now? How about I take out your tongue, then you really won’t be able to.” I see my brother grab the old man’s tongue and pull it from his mouth. “Enough W. We need him to be able to talk. For now.” He stops, just as the steel is about to cut off the muscle. Stepping closer to the disgrace of a man before me, his dirty brown eyes follow my movements, growing even wider with fear as I am now merch inches from him. 

“My brother tells me that you owe one of our casinos a rather large sum.” I gesture back to my other brother, Y,  who is casually leaning against the metal beam of some warehouse we are in. “He has also informed me that you have had plenty of notices and still have outright refused to pay what we are owed.” The man begins to sputter out apologies and excuses, pleading for his life. “If you can’t pay… then you have two options, old man.” His eyes,  now white with fear. “Option one, you die.” The man began to cry when the word “die” left my lips. Scoffing, I kick my boot out and it connects with his shin. The faint crunch of bones is almost like music to my ears. He screams out in curses and pleas for this torture to be over. “Option two, you pay upfront with an equal or better value of your existing debt.” 

30 minutes go by of nothing but continued sobs and empty promises, I am starting to get fed up with this man. “Okay since you don’t have anything of value to offer as payment, I guess  there’s only one option left..” I can see the material of the light gray sweatpants the man is wearing grow dark around his crotch and then being hit with the stench of piss. “No- no please! I’ll give you anything you want but please-PLEASE don’t kill me.” W comes back over to the man from where he was standing and crouches down until they are at eye level. “We have already determined that you have nothing we want, old man.” 

He frantically searched his mind for some way to keep him from his death sentence but he seemed to come up blank. Thoroughly annoyed now with this pitiful excuse of a man I looked towards W, clearly itching to get his hands dirty, I nod, giving him the signal to do what he does best. I watch him stalk towards his prey, his eyes black as the suit I’m wearing. Knowing what’s going to happen next, I make my leave, not wanting to stain my new suit. 

“Please, please you have to spare me! I can’t die! I have little ones to take care of!” W laughed. I heard the man scream out in pain as the knife tears apart the man’s skin. “We know everything about you.” Not turning around to face the scene behind me. “We know where you live and work. We know how much money you make every year and how much of it you blow at our casinos. We also happen to know that you have one daughter who is 20, so don’t bother trying to lie to us.” It’s almost as if I can hear the wheels turning in his head, the rusty cogs scraping against each other like it’s been years since he last thought something through. “Wait!” I almost debate not stopping and keeping going. But, curiosity takes over and I turn back to the bloody man before me. “Take her.” I go hot with anger. “You are even more pathetic than I thought you were.” I can feel Yeo's presence to my left, also curious at the man’s offer. “P-Pplease, she's young and good-looking. I’m sure she could fill any… needs you might have for her.” I couldn’t help but let out a laugh at this scum in front of me. “So what you're telling me old man, is that you would rather your child be used, in every possible way by my brothers and me instead of you paying for your debt?” I circle the man who has now gone pale, either from the loss of blood or from the situation he is now in. I stop next to W and he hands me the knife. The handle is now sticky with the dried blood, the cool gray steel is painted with spots of dark brownish-red blood. I take the tip of the blade and press the point to my middle finger, holding the weapon on display for the quivering man before me. 

~

The 8 of us are brothers by choice not by blood. We found each other at our worst, tackling our demons together, to become the most powerful men in all of Aurora. No one can hurt us anymore, as long as we have each other. 

One of my elder brothers and our leader, Hong Joon, is the fiercest of us all. He is the man who rules the other 7 of us, running the entire city of Aurora simultaneously. Our leader is the glue that holds us all together, making us a family. 

We keep our leader a mystery to the public, so in his stead, I have become the face of our company and the worst fear to anyone within the boundaries of our city. My name, Yunho, has replaced The Boogeyman. My name, never spoken. Like by just saying my name, might summon me. 

There is one other boss excluding Hongjoon and myself, Seonghwa. He is just as bat shit crazy as the rest of us but he keeps the most level of headed, taking into account the reality of our decisions. 

The direct responsibilities of our control are divided and handled by the rest of my brothers. Yeosang runs all the gambling, strip, and nightclubs. 

San is in charge of acquiring and handling the maintenance of the entirety of our real estate. 

Mingi runs interference between law enforcement, making sure there isn’t anything that could cause drastic repercussions to our rule. 

Wooyoung is the craziest. He finds and supplies us and all of our men with weapons of all different kinds. He has connections with everyone and next to me he is the most feared of us all, but we rarely let him off his leash, or else a lot of people could get hurt. 

Lastly, Jongho, the strongest of us all, controls every soldier under our payroll, ensuring their loyalty by any means necessary. He hires the best and trains the worst to beat the best. 

~

“I’m going to repeat myself once again.” I drag the knife across his collarbone and shoulder blades as I continue to circle him slowly. “You would rather your daughter suffer for your negligence than yourself?” I stop in front of him and look down at the man. A bright red line now dominated the man’s clavicle, no doubt rounding to his back. The man's face is now slack, trying to fight against the pain. My knife now stopped above his heart. I press the blade deeper into his muscle. His face contorts and he finally answers “Yes, I would rather you take her than I die! She is a useless daughter anyways.” He screams out as I press further into his skin, bloodstains his beater. I can feel the muscle separating from itself as the knife glides deeper into his chest. I rip the knife from the man's chest causing him to scream out. “Wooyoung take care of him but don’t kill him, for now.” Yeosang follows me out of one of our many warehouses, leaving Wooyoung to do this thing. 

~

Hongjoon is waiting for us in his office when we get back to the loft. We handle all of our business at a location separate from where we live. We try to keep the work away from home as much as we can, but sometimes it’s unavoidable, like the situation we were just called into. I was not supposed to be called out today, but Yeosang brought the man's immense debt to our attention and my appearance became necessary. 

“How’d it go Yunho?” Hongjoon said without looking up from the stack of papers in front of him. He looked so regal in this state. His royal blue suit without a single wrinkle or flaw. His jacket was unbuttoned showing the thin white button-down underneath, not a single thread out of place. He is the best of us and he always makes sure to look it, even if no one but us sees him. “Are we getting our money?” He looks up and leans back in his chair, leather groaning against his movement, and folds his hands in his lap. 

“What do you think?” I plop down into one of the chairs facing his desk. “The man was practically pissing himself when I made it clear how things work with us.” Yeosang sits down in the chair next to me, elbows resting on his knees as he blows out a long breath. “He told us to take his daughter as payment.” The heels of his hands press into his eyes. 

My brother Yeosang has always had a soft heart. He looked the girl up in the car ride back to the office. Y/n, 20 years old, an only child and now working multiple part-time jobs to support herself and her father. Her mother died when she was only 8 and according to the multitude of hospital reports, her mother was beaten and sexually assaulted often. He didn’t have the heart to look at the massive list of hospital reports for Y/n, no doubt matching her mothers. 

Hongjoon tries to hide his shock when Yeosang pulls out his phone with her life story. We see a lot of things, but not when it comes to this type of situation. We are in foreign territory here. “How I see it is that we have two options.” Hongjoon tears his eyes reluctantly away from the phone, no doubt admiring the photo provided of the girl. 

My stomach turned and my palms sweat when I first saw her picture. How could such a beautiful woman grow out of such horrendous circumstances? The pixels that made up this godly woman made every hair stand on my body and this tremendous urge came to pull her from the darkness and protect her. I shoved the phone back into Yeosang’s hands and moved away from those thoughts, I had to. I can’t go down that road again. “Our first option is to just kill the man and leave her to pay off her father's debt.” I can see Hongjoon’s eyebrow furl with hesitation, the break-in in his neutral expression. He too has been hooked by the girl. “Or we take the girl as his payment and make the man suffer for his cowardice.” Yeosang shakes his head in agreement with my second option and Hongjoon too agrees, now we just need the rest of the family to agree. 

~

The night shift at the diner was the worst. I always get stuck with the graveyard shift because I’m the new hire. I haven’t had a single customer come in for almost two hours. I have already cleaned, stocked, and prepped everything for my relief to come in, but that won't be for another 3 hours. I won’t have much time before I need to get to the bar to pull a double. 

I’m sitting in one of the booths, rereading my favorite book when I notice headlights pulling into the parking lot. Marking my place, I get up and make my way over to the counter to grab my notepad. I can’t help but yawn as I stretch out my stiff muscles. The bell rings and the click of footsteps quickly fills the diner, drowning out the soft pop playing in the background. “Hello, welcome to Granny’s-” I can’t manage to finish my sentence as I turn around to see 4 expensive-looking men looking around the diner. All have their heads turned but the tallest, his eyes are locked on mine. 

The purple and blue fluorescents highlight his features from the fullness of his lips to the darkness lurking in his eyes. He fixes the gold cufflinks at the ends of his sleeves slowly and my attention is drawn to the full length of the man before me. His broad shoulders, lean torso, and legs are covered in a well-fitted black suit. His large hands move to the buttons of his jacket. The black pristine shirt underneath hangs from his frame. Not only does he scream beauty but the way he’s looking at me has my senses heightened and muscles tighten, ready to run at a moment's notice. Danger emanates from this mysterious man and a small part of me is intrigued by the fear. 

His companions moved about the diner, all equally put together and dangerous as the one still stood in front of me. “Um. If you’d like to take a seat I can get you started with something to drink.” I motion to the booth I had just been sitting at. “No need, we won't be here for long. We just came to collect something that belongs to us.” 

My mouth went dry as I realized I was now encircled by the men. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the door to the kitchen, where the back door was. “What do you mean?” I stand frozen. “We came to take what's owed to us girl.” One of the men spoke from behind me, causing me to turn to face him. He was not as tall as the previous one I faced, but he looked to be the strongest out of the four of them. 

“I don’t understand what’s going on here. I don’t know any of you.” I spun slowly in a circle to face them all until I made eye contact with the tallest of them once again. He smirked and took a step toward me. I moved a step further away. We kept our steps up until I was flush with the counter, only feet away from my only attempt at escape. Fear crawled down my spine and sweat-dampened parts all over my body. My pulse quickened with each step he took closer to me. I should take the chance and run for safety, but my brain doesn’t send the signal. Something within the danger of the man pursuing me sedates me. 

“You don’t know us Y/n, but we know all about you.” The darkness of his gaze and the roughness of his voice strikes fear deep inside of me. “We won’t hurt you y/n, as long as you come with us without causing any problems.” The man to my right says, turning my attention to him for a split second. Something about his sharp features and warm eyes sends a wave of calm over me, but it disappears as I take in the man towering over me now. 

“You belong to us now Y/n.” I stare up at him as I shake, either out of fear or because of the proximity between us now. My hands grip the edge of the counter behind me, steading me as my head spins. “How? I mean… How could this have happened-” The realization hits me. I can feel the tears welling in my eyes and my face flushed from anger. “The fucking bastard.” Coming out barely a whisper, I let my head hang as the emotions wash over me. All hitting me like a bus, pulling me back in time to when I was still stuck under his control. I thought I had managed to finally escape him, but I guess he wasn’t finished using me. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” I push the man away from me but his hand grips my wrist, keeping it in place on his chest. 

“Yes, you will.” He uses my arm to pull me even closer to him. I’m now straining my neck back to look him in the eyes. My own widened with shock as I see his lips curl up into an intimidating smile. “Your father traded his daughter as payment for his debt to us and the one thing you need to know about us y/n is that we always collect our payments.” Before I can respond, a cloth comes from my left and the stench fills my nostrils and soon my lungs. My senses dull and my vision blurs. The last thing I feel before my world goes black is being held and the mumbling of voices.

[amerrierworld]

Little Songbird (pt 3)

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu becomes addicted to your voice and wants to hear you... sing some more.

Characters: Alcina Dimitrescu x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,087

Warnings: The extra Smut Chapter ;)

The next day, you were a bit exhausted from the previous night’s... activities. But you set about work the same way as usual, though buzzing with an unusual excitement about the evening to come. 

You were working on repairing a rip in one of your old dresses. You really wanted to impress the Lady and look as good as possible, now that she had taken a liking to you. As you worked, the head maid asked you about your previous night’s duties while preparing lunch.

“It wasn’t all bad.” You kept your gaze on the hole in the dress you were mending as she prepped ingredients. “The Lady seemed very preoccupied. I don’t think I was much of a bother.”

“That’s very rare,” another maid cackled while peeling potatoes next to you. “She always looks at us like we’re the dirt on the bottom of her shoes. But I suppose the pay is good.”

“Not freezing out in the cold is very good pay, I agree,” the head house maid said dryly. “I suggest you try to keep it that way.”

The maid looked flustered at the comment and scampered off, intimidated by her gaze and muttering something about more things to be done. You bit your lip to stop from smiling.

“How was it really, my dear?” The head maid turned to you, a much kinder look in her eyes now. “The Lady can be a touch.. harsh.”

“It was fine, really. I didn’t know she had a piano until now.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve never heard her play myself, but I’ve heard stories she used to perform. Especially around holidays or important events.”

“Really?” Your mouth gaped a little as she explained. “I didn’t know she was that good at piano.”

“Oh, no, dear. Not piano. She would sing. It’s a bit sad we haven’t heard her sing at all in our time at the castle. I suspect it would make her a little more approachable. But that may not be what she wants. I’ve heard she was quite a talented singer though...”

As she kept talking, the needle had stilled in your hands, your body freezing at the sudden revelation. Lady Dimitrescu, a singer? Surely not. 

“..Are you alright?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, thinking of how she would sound, what she would sing, and if you would ever get to hear her sing. 

“Yes, yes I’m fine.” You kept pushing the needle through the fabric, trying to remain calm. You felt your body tingle as you remembered the way she wanted to hear you sing. “I have to say, it is quite surprising.”

“Our Lady is definitely full of surprises.” She patted your shoulder before leaving you to your thoughts and your half-stitched handiwork. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to focus on any tasks for the rest of the day now.

Later that night, you hurried to sneak through the hallways on your way to your Lady’s bedchambers. You really didn’t want anyone to see you on the way, since you had no supplies to have an excuse of a chore to be done this time. There was one maid who caught your eye, and she gave you a curious once-over as you walked by in your nicest dress, looking like you were going out rather than going to bed. 

When you got to the door of the room, your heart was thundering in your chest. Your hands had gotten sweaty, and you didn’t understand what was so stressing for you. She had seen every inch of you already, had stripped you on top of the piano, and made you come like you never had before.

You delicately rapped your knuckles on the door, and waited for long, agonizing moments for a response. When none came, you became curious. You turned the door handle and pushed. It opened with no resistance, and there seemed to be no noise coming from inside the room.

You poked your head inside, and was once again astounded by the sheer size of the room. Against your better judgment, you slipped inside and shut the door behind you. Being early was always a good thing, you decided.

Since Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t there yet, you had time to take it in. You were drawn to the massive bed, and the dark red sheets that adorned it. Probably the best colour choice, you figured, considering the high risks of blood stains on any surface in the entire castle. 

You approached and ran a hand over the edge of the fabric, marvelling at its silkiness and expensive textures. It reminded you of everything Lady Dimitrescu liked to wear; expensive, silky, smooth...

The door slammed open, ripping the quiet thought out of your brain, and there stood Lady Dimitrescu. Her expression was fuming, angry, but it didn’t seem to be directed at you, because the minute she saw you standing in the room, it softened in confusion. Like she had forgotten you’d be coming.

You let go of the sheets and clasped your hands behind your back, curtsying quickly in fear of her anger and not wanting to step out of line. She nearly scoffed at you, and took a few long strides to the vanity, sitting down heavily on the bench.

“Help me with my dress.” Her tone was curt, demanding. You paled a little, thinking this night wasn’t gonna go how you expected it to, but still doing as she said. You were a maid, after all.

With her seated, it was easier to reach the buttons along her back, and you made quick work of them. But when you stepped back and she didn’t make any move to get out of her seat, you realized she wanted you to get the entire garment off her.

Her pointed gaze at you in the mirror disappeared from view as you approached the open back and pushed the two halves of the dress aside like peeling delicate fruit. You couldn’t help it; you ran your hands along the thick skin of her back as the dress fell off her shoulders, revealing a tantalizing bra clasp right at eye level that you could have undone quickly if you wanted to.

“You’re being quite bold, little one,” Lady Dimitrescu finally spoke, her voice deep, sultry, but not gentle like it had been last night. There was an iciness to it that stung. Your hands had been lingering a little too long on her skin.

“Forgive me, my lady,” you said, stepping away as she got up to her full height and let the dress pool at her feet. You saw heels in your view and stockings raking up long legs, but you didn’t dare look any higher. 

“Oh, pet. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She ran a hand over your head and walked past you. Your instincts kicked in and you picked up the dress to fold tidily on the vanity’s bench. The slightest touch from her fingers made you shiver, and a blush crept up the back of your neck.

“Look at me, sweetling.”

You turned around to face the bed, where she was sitting, one leg swung over the other, hands perched behind her on the mattress. Yellow eyes looked at you and you gulped for air at the sight of her.

“You’re allowed to look, darling. It would be a bit inconvenient if you weren’t.”

Your cheeks were burning now, but you finally let your eyes wander down her frame. Her lingerie was the epitome of femininity, yet dark and sultry, just like her. The black lace hugged her curves. Her stockings were held up by a garter belt, and she kicked off her heels with one smooth jerk of her legs. 

Her tummy folded in when she was seated, and her thighs, though muscular and lean, were thick and looked strong enough to crush your entire body if she wanted to.

“Come here.” That familiar voice zapped through you and you approached the bed, briefly wondering if what you had heard about her singing talents were true. You supposed it wouldn’t surprise you. As a lady of her standard, learning an instrument or musical skill must’ve been a required lesson for her etiquette. 

She picked you up to sit in her lap, and you squeaked in surprise as she lifted you once again. A chuckle rang throughout the room and you looked up at her, relieved to see the earlier anger had dissipated from her gaze when she looked at you.

“I’m glad you’re here. I had almost forgotten you were coming,” she said, running hands soothingly over your thighs as you straddled her. “I apologize if I was a bit of a sight when I arrived. The staff in this castle is somewhat... incompetent at times.”

So it was the staff that had made her angry. Did another maid try to escape? Enter the cellar? Was there an errand boy that couldn’t keep his hands off of one of the new deliveries? 

Her head lowered to breathe in your scent, lingering right by your ear. You let out a heavy sigh at the feeling of her so close to her, and you reached out to grip her upper arms that framed your body. You ran your fingers along her skin, and she recoiled for a moment, pulling away.

You froze. Did you do something wrong? Fear etched in your eyes, you looked up at the Countess, wondering if you stepped out of line for touching her. Then her gaze focused in on you and she seemed to relax a little.

“Don’t stop.”

Was it a request? An order? You didn’t mind either way, because now your hungry hands ran over her, feeling the dimples and ridges of scars and stretched skin all over. You explored with your hands as much as you did with your eyes, gazing at her cleavage, the curve of her neck, the muscles in her shoulders. 

You ran a hand over her tummy, feeling softness and subconsciously prodding it a little with your fingertip. She giggled at the feeling. Giggled. Her body jostled a bit, moving you about. You liked the feeling and the softness, so kept your hands there.

“I can see a question in your eyes, little one,” Lady Dimitrescu purred, combing a hand through your hair. You cast your gaze downward, running a hand over her skin repeatedly, familiarizing yourself with the patterns of the stretch marks.

“Just.. something I heard today.”

“And what was that?”

You squirmed uncomfortably. “I’m not sure if you want to hear.”

A finger tipped your chin up to her piercing eyes, “I doubt it’ll go unnoticed by me, sweetling. Even if you don’t tell me now, I will hear about it.”

Your mouth went a little dry at that. She was right, nothing happened in this castle without her knowing about it, but goodness... the power behind those words made you weak in the knees. Thank heavens you were sitting. 

“I was told you used to be a singer.”

An amused look crossed her face. “Is that it? I was expecting you to announce a mutiny at hand.”

You shrugged slightly, delighted in the way her hand reached to cup the back of your neck, a thumb running over your throat. “I was hardly a singer, darling. But yes, I used to.. dabble in performance. Long ago.”

“Is that why you were so interested in my singing?” 

She grinned, teeth gleaming. “I was interested in your singing because I was interested in you, little songbird.”

She tugged you impossibly closer, leaning down and running her wicked tongue over where her hand had just been on your neck. 

“W-will I ever get to hear you?” you managed to huff out, because now her firm hands were holding your middle, exploring your body the way you had been exploring hers.

“Is that what you want? To hear me sing?”

You nodded, because the low timbre of her voice was reverberating throughout your whole body, and you suddenly needed to hear it singing a tune.

“Perhaps... if you indulge me like I had indulged your last night, you may get to hear me sing too.”

You felt the tips of your ears nearly burst into flames, but you were so desperate... so eager to please. You nearly dropped down to the floor to get on your knees. 

She chuckled, “not so fast. I have a better idea.”

Lady Dimitrescu shuffled back on the bed until she was up against the pillows. Shoving a pillow under her lower back, she crooked a finger to beckon you closer, spreading her legs. The sight of her, half in candle light, spread out for you this time, but still in charge, made you swoon.

You crawled towards her and pressed your lips against the inside of her knee. She rocked her hips a little at the feeling of your warm, small mouth on her body, and fisted a hand in your hair.

“I really won’t need any foreplay, dear,” she said in a hushed tone. “Give me your mouth.”

You raced to tug the black lace panties off of her long legs, and were met with the sight of slick, swollen flesh. A carnal desire overtook you, and you surged forwards to press your mouth against her, desperate to taste.

A soft ‘oh’ escaped the giantess at your eagerness and your soft tongue tasting her arousal without hesitation. She enjoyed teasing you, yes, making you beg and dance around the sexual gratification she could give you. But this, your hunger and desire to please, made her warm all over.

“Good girl,” she said softly as your tongue began flicking over her swollen clit, lightly and experimentally. Your hands gripped the inside of her thighs, keeping them steady and spread. She was able to look down at you, and realized her rough gripping had made your hair come undone, causing curls and locks to drop down, loose and wild. Your eyes met hers, pupils dilated, and then you sucked. 

The high-pitched cry that escaped her was broken and sudden, and it made your body flood with arousal. Your legs trembled a little, the space between your legs begging for attention.

“Oh, who would have thought you’d be so good with your tongue, sweetling?” Lady Dimitrescu moaned, “I knew you were talented.. but that mouth...”

Her sentence was left unfinished, and she bit her lip, groaning softly in the back of her throat as you kept going. Your fingers rubbed her folds, teased her entrance, kissing and sucking until you could find a rhythm that made her squeak.

A nip at the hood of her clit made her gasp delightfully, so you did it again. The hand in your hair pressed down to bury your face in her cunt.

“Wicked girl,” she growled, and you moaned against her, your face wet. “Don’t you dare stop now.”

You pressed harder, one hand pushing three fingers at her entrance without any resistance as they slid inside. Your brain wasn’t working enough to keep up the pace of both, so you curled them and pressed against that soft, swollen frontal wall, scratching with the pads of your fingertips.

She nearly howled, a string of soft curses and... were those pleads? Her eyes were screwed shut, and you looked up at her strong, soft body. You couldn’t help but reach down and rub yourself through the fabrics of your clothes with your other hand. 

Eventually she noticed when she opened her eyes again, and she chuckled, making a point of slowly rolling her pelvis into your face. 

“Couldn’t keep your own hands off of yourself?” she said, her voice slurred with arousal. You made a whiny sound, restrained by your tongue and mouth against her cunt.

“I want you to come with me,” she gasped, her thick thighs beginning to shake from approaching her orgasm. You rubbed yourself even harder, eager to do as she said. 

Her usually-reserved voice came out in whimpers and low growls, and you sucked hard at her clit again, pressing your fingers deep inside, and her whole body instantly convulsed. 

Her cries of pleasure and incoherent words of praise made you topple over the edge shortly after. Her well-kept hair was undone, her mascara a little smeared, and her hands were digging painfully into your scalp. She let go once the last tremors left her body, and you relaxed against her thigh, breathing in her smell and kissing her everywhere you could reach.

“Well done, little songbird,” she cooed, eventually managing to open her eyes again and look at you. “You really are too precious for words.”

You blushed. You extracted your hand from between your legs, grimacing a little at the stickiness of your clothes.

“Let’s get you out of those,” Lady Dimitrescu whispered softly. You let her hands lift you up like you weighed nothing, and strip you.

“But- work...” you made a feeble attempt to get up, but she tutted, holding you closely to her chest, your head resting on her breasts. 

“Nonsense. You will stay the night here. You’re in no state to return to your duties yet.” She spoke curtly again, meaning there was no room for argument, but the soft throb between your legs and the haziness of your sated mind already left you limp and jelly-like. You wouldn’t have made it out the door without collapsing even if you did try to leave.

And so, you were bundled up in her arms, the blankets pulled up around your trembling form. She had pulled out a book from her nightstand and let you relax against her body as she flicked through the pages, a quiet peace filling the atmosphere around you. And then you heard it.

With your head pressed against her chest, you heard the rumble of her voice under your ear, and then her soft humming filled the room. You held your breath as you listened to the low, baritone-like notes, and the occasional page flipping of her book. 

You didn’t know the song, didn't know if it came with words, or if she had come up with it right now, but it made your heart flutter. Did she know you were still awake? 

Eventually, a hand came off of the book and pressed on your head, helping you settle against her warmed skin a little more, and then she spoke,

“Sleep, little songbird. There’ll be plenty of times for you to hear me later.”

A/N: It really doesn’t take much to convince me to write more of a series when I love them as much as this one ;) I hope you have ~enjoyed~

[imthebadguyyy]

Loved your first fic of Lewis!💛

Can you make one where Lewis Hamilton and Y/N have a fight and have been living separately and then Lewis comes to meet Y/N one evening and makes an excuse that his toothbrush is with Y/N? And then Lewis confronts Y/N that he knows Y/N still love him but won't admit?

..

* I know this is a very specific prompt. Bare with me. I just wanted more Angst/ Fluff with Longing for each other and Deep feelings and keep it Non-explicit. *

A/N - I'm so glad you liked the fic 😊

We're Meant To Be

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader (female)

Fandom - F1

Summary - After a messy fight, you don't know where your relationship stands. But when love is that strong, an argument can't stand in the way.

Warnings - Angst, fighting, swearing

Angered shouts. Tears of frustration. White noise. Desperate pleads. And then silence. That's what your neighbours would describe if they were asked to describe what they had heard from your house. An argument that seemed to have started over nothing, had blown up into a full scale fight. When had it become this bad? Only yesterday, you two had had a date night at home, with movies and wine. Everything was perfect. But then, suddenly everything seemed to go down a downward spiral.

Your relationship with your boyfriend had always been calm, it had been the type of love where you just loved each other with all your hearts, where fights were an incredibly rare appearance. You were both working, and he was away at races most of the time, so usually, you didn't waste time fighting, something that was an unnecessary waste of time in your opinion. But then, something had just switched for a second. It was after the race in Baku, and it hadn't gone well. Lewis had been heartbroken, after coming P15, and had heavily berated himself for it. To make him feel better, you had taken a couple of days off work. to just be with him and give him company to feel better.

It had been on the third day of you spending time with him that he had made an offhand comment that had struck a nerve with you. "I wish you could be there at race weekends more often. It's like you don't care enough about the races" The comment had pissed you off, to put it lightly. "What do you mean, I don't care about the races? I watch all of them Lewis, I'm always supporting you" you had practically seethed at him. "Don't get all huffy, darling, all I'm saying is that the other girlfriends and wives come quite often, but you only come to like three races a year" he had said, already regretting his words. "Maybe that's because I have a job?! I work for my living, and I love my job. I don't have time to fly around the world to accompany you to your races, and its damn hard to get leave off of work anyway, I was lucky to even get a week off of work, and you want me to be there every weekend? It's not possible for a working person, Lewis" you had said, anger bubbling in your voice, pulling away from him to sit up straight. "I know, I just meant-" "No, I know what you meant. I'm sorry I can't always be there, and don't you think I feel bad when I can't be there for you ?" "I know you do, I shouldn't have brought this up. But can you come for the next race?" He had asked, not looking at your eyes, regretting the answer. "I... can't. I have a really big meeting coming up and-" "And you can't come I get it"

And he had just left. You had felt your heart shatter, hating yourself for being so harsh with him. But it was true, you were a very hardworking person, and you had worked damn hard to get to where you were, successful at your job, one of the best in your field. It took years of hard work and perseverance and you were proud of it. But a part of you also knew that Lewis didn't deserve any of the crap you had given him, and you also knew that he was right, the other guys had their partners to support them during various race weekends, and you only showed up to one or two of them. He was well in his rights to tell you that. And you hated how it had ended.

You all alone, in your house, in a cold and empty bed, in a quiet house with silence that was much, much more deafening than words ever could be. It was heartbreaking, to see a future you had dreamed of just shattering in front of your eyes, dreams of having a family of your own with him fluttering away like wisps of smoke, the burning flames leaving only a heartbroken mess of a human being behind. Was that what it felt like? To be burned and left to turn to ashes, when a person that knew exactly how to ignite your flame just left you to burn away? To have someone who could ignite your all consuming passion, and turn you to putty in his hands, who could mould you back into shape, leave you to melt into a liquid through his fingers to just lay on the ground, a sad, broken, person.

And here you were, lying on your bed, the sheets that had warmed the both of you on cold nights, or been home to your pleasure laced activities now offering only some of the warmth it used to, cold and unforgiving, as you turned your pillow for the fifteenth time, neither side cool anymore. Even the pillow didn't want to forgive you, the sweat settling in on your neck again, beads of sweat running down your forehead again. The pulled curtains shielded you from the over bright sunshine, your damp hair sticking to your shoulders and neck. Your eyes, red rimmed and tired, shut to protect them from the faint light in the room, the tiredness not permitting you to even open them to look in the dim light of your room.

Somewhere near you, your phone buzzed again, for what felt like the hundredth time in three days. It had been three days, three long, painful days since you and Lewis had fought and not seen each other, and those 72 hours had ripped a part of your soul out. You had spent those three days in bed, your leave days still saving you from getting out of bed and dragging your body to office. Was your relationship over? Were you never going to meet the love of your life, the man you were destined to be with again? Sighing, you rolled over, pushing the damp strands of hair away from your face. Using strength you didn't know you had, you pulled yourself up, feeling your head spin.

Slowly, you made yourself walk into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bread and popping it into the toaster. Then you splashed some water on your tired face, shuffling over to the bathroom to brush your teeth. After finishing your toast, you peeled off the sweaty shirt you had pulled on when he had left, realising with a pang that it was Lewis's nightshirt you were wearing, a purple one he loved. Dropping it into the laundry basket, you turned on the shower, stepping under the warm shower. The warm spray untangled the knots in your matted hair, as you soaped your body and hair, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks as memories of your showers together with Lewis came flooding back, as heartbroken sobs wracked your form again.

An hour after the not so great shower, you found yourself in another shirt belonging to Lewis, the bed in fresh sheets and covers, your pillow finally cool on both sides. You were clean and refreshed, albeit heartbroken, waiting on your takeout Chinese food and ice cream. Just as you lay there, scrolling through your Netflix account to watch some episode of FRIENDS to help you keep your spirits up, the doorbell rang. The thought of flavourful Chinese food and ice cream was enough to lure you out of your bed again, bare feet padding across the wooden floor to go to the door. You grabbed your wallet, opening the door, to find not your dinner, but Lewis, at the door, in one of your favourite sweatshirts on him. Did the clothes make you feel better? No. In fact, it just shattered your heart further.

"What are you doing here?" was the predictable line that left your lips. "I um, I left my toothbrush at your place. Can I have it back?"

"I beg your pardon? You left your toothbrush? You came back for a toothbrush, but not for me? Is that all I mean to you?!" you said, anger and a hint of sadness creeping into your tone. "You do mean a lot to me" he replied in a sigh. "Look, I didn't actually leave my toothbrush. That was a lie, and wow, I'm just realising how stupid that sounded, I'm sorry" His words were met with silence. The sadness in your eyes said it all. You were upset. Of course you were. "I don't have any toothbrushes except mine, so please leave" Before you could shut the door in his face, he pushed it back open, stepping into the house on his own.

"No do not come in here, please just get out!"

"No" was his frustrating reply. "What do you mean no? I said get out of my house!" "Not until we stop fighting and talk about what the hell happened!" Lewis yelled back, matching your tone. "Why the hell do you care?!" "Because I still love you damn it, I always have, and this stupid fight cannot, and should not break us apart!"

Your burst into tears. Sliding down against the wall, you buried your face in your hands, the sweatshirt arms covering your face as you sobbed. In an instant, Lewis was walking across to you, strong muscled arms wrapping around your shaking frame. "I'm sorry" you managed to blubber out, "I thought it over, and I don't go to support as often as I feel I should, and I'm sorry"

"No my darling, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said all that to you. You work so hard baby, and I'm so proud of you. And I know that you try to come whenever you can, and I love you so much for that. I'm sorry, and I never shouldv'e asked you to prioritize my passion over yours" rubbing your shoulders softly, he let his chin rest on top of yours. Sniffling, you let your head rest on his shoulder. The soft hiccups that left your lips broke his heart even further, something he hadn't thought possible.

The last 3 days had been pure hell for him. He had missed you, God, he had missed you. He had missed having you in his bed in the morning, tracing patterns on your bare skin. He had missed leaving kisses on your soft cheeks and hands and on your cute nose, missed smiling against your skin as you giggled. He had missed you playing with Roscoe, the doggo following the both of you around the house. Even Roscoe had missed you, sniffing around the house for your familiar smell, cocking his ears up and looking at his dad questioningly.

He had missed your perfume, the scent filling his senses, intoxicating him in the best way possible. He missed you curling up to him, playing with his hair or tracing his tattoos, leaving little kisses around the compass tattoo, tracing his 'Still I Rise' tattoo, missing the goosebumps that would rise on his skin when you traced Michelangelo's Pieta on his skin, and kissed the family and faith tattoos on his sternum. He missed you everywhere, and it had taken three days for him to realize that your presence grounded him. Your presence was something he needed, not to survive, he had done that before, he needed you for his happiness.

And having you in his arms, crying over what he had said? It shattered his heart. And he wanted to just fix everything, to bring everything back to normal. Stroking your hair softly, he kept his lips pressed to your ear, whispering soft "I love you's" and "I'm so sorry baby's" and "I'm here for you's" into your ear, feeling his heart lighten ever so softly when your sniffles decreased and your grip on yourself relaxed.

Moving up to meet his eyes, you moved so you were at eye level with him. "So we're both idiots who are sorry?" You murmured, running your hand up to his collarbone. With a soft laugh, he nodded taking your hand into his, rubbing his thumb over yours. "Fighting sucks" he mumbled pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "It really does" your replied, moving so you were straddling his waist. "Let's never do that again, and let's just make a schedule. We can figure out when you can come and visit me, and I'll just deal with the fact that my ethereal girlfriend won't grace the race tracks every race weekend-" "It all sounds lovely but all I want right now is your lips on mine" you interrupted, bringing a smirk to his lips.

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to yours, hand moving to maneuver your head closer to his, your hands moving up to cup his cheek, as your traced his jawline, his thumb running over your waist. Breaking apart softly, he let his forehead rest on yours. "I love you" he whispered softly. "I love you too" you mumbled back. Before he could lean back in, the doorbell rang again.

"Damn it. That's my chinese food and ice cream" you sighed, smiling when he laughed. "Was it that bad?" He asked, letting you get up to open the door. "Like you wouldn't believe it"

After getting the food and paying for it, you set two plates on the table and put enough on your plates. "You know what the worst part was about fighting?" "What was?" "Not waking up to you tracing my tattoos" "Aww that's what you missed?" You giggled, walking up to kiss the tattoos on his hands. "I really did. You're cute and adorable and you're all mine. That's why I don't wanna fight. Let's keep it that way" "I love you so much" "I love you too"

***

A/N - I'm so, so sorry I took so long to write this, I really suck at angst, and I hope this is what you wanted, the last thing I want to do is give you subpar work 😭��

Anyways, have a great day 💙

[cobrakaisb]

5 times robby fell in love with you + 1 time he actually said it

requested: no

a/n: hey besties it’s been a hot minute! i promise that part two of modern day romeo and juliet is in the works but here is a little robby imagine because i have been in my robby feels lately. :)

summary: read the title besties :) you and robby are already dating in this imagine. 

word count: 1832

one: wheel training

“i don’t know about this mr. larusso,” you mumble as you take your sweatshirt off to climb into the pond. robby was already in there, shivering from the coolness of the water. “you’ll be fine y/n,” mr. larusso says encouragingly. you nod, slowly entering the shallow pond with robby’s help. together the two of you approach the wheel in the middle, each of you on your respective sides. “okay now climb on,” mr. larusso instructs, and you look nervously at robby, who just nods. together the two of you climb onto the wheel.

after countless tries and many failed attempts the two of you were able to perform the technique semi-decently. “we did it!” you shout as you come up from the water. robby and mr. larusso laugh at your excitement. you splash some water up in the air, laughing as the droplets hit your skin on the way down. robby looks at you adoringly, a smile on his face. “alright you two, that’s enough for today. i’ll see you tomorrow,” mr. larusso says, smiling at the two of you as he walks towards the house. 

once he’s inside the house, robby wades through the water to you. “we did it robby!” you cheer, throwing your arms around his shoulders, a proud smile on your face. “yes we did baby,” he answers, resting his forehead against yours. “just imagine us doing that in a fight! we’d be unstoppable!” you exclaim and robby just nods his head. he wasn’t really paying attention to what you were saying, instead he was thinking about how happy you made him and how contagious your smile was.    

two: during the mall fight

“get behind me,” you instruct demetri, pushing the tall boy behind you, while sam took care of the others. “back off,” sam tells hawk, and you nod your head, getting into your fighting stance. hawk scoffs at the three of you. “i don’t want to have to hit a girl,” he says, looking between you and sam. now it was your turn to scoff. “funny how you think you’d even stand a chance against us,” you say confidently. now robby was beside you, the three of you covering demetri.

“five against four. more like three and a half,” hawk remarks, nodding towards his friends, signaling the start of the fight. you were fighting off two boys in the back while robby was fighting off two of them in the front. sam was taking care of some boy towards the middle of the group, while demetri just stood in the center, not fighting anyone. slowly, one by one, you and your friends had taken down the cobra kais, well all of them except for hawk. 

you look over your shoulder to see hawk charging towards you robby, who was cornered up against a table. you knew that robby could handle himself, but a wave of protectiveness washed over you. the next thing you know, hawk was lying on the floor of the food court while you stood in front of robby. everyone ohed at the sight of hawk lying on the ground, but you didn’t pay them any mind. you turn to face robby, grabbing his face in your hands. “are you alright?” you ask, looking over him worriedly. robby chuckled at you, pulling you into a tight hug. “i’m fine baby, thank you,” he answers with nothing but admiration in his voice as he kisses your forehead.  

three: he catches you singing

robby jogs up the stairs to your room. today the two of you were taking a break from karate and planning on watching a movie together. robby knocks on the door, but there was no answer. he cracks the door open and sees you jumping around your room. you were wearing one of his shirts and a pair of shorts, your hair brush in your hand, as you belted out the lyrics to teenage dirtbag. “oh yeah! dirtbag!” you sing along with zayn malik. robby smiles as he watches you sing and dance around the room. 

now you were standing in front of your mirror, pointing to yourself as you sang, completely engrossed in the song. at one point you tilt your head back, really getting into it. robby continues to watch you sing the song, a loving smile on his face the entire time. he only makes himself known when he claps his hands once the song ends. you freeze, turning towards the door where your boyfriend is clapping. a blush immediately coats your cheeks, as you throw your hairbrush on your bed. 

“i didn’t take you as a singer y/n,” robby points out, stepping into your room. your blush turns an even deeper shade of red as you look away from his hazel eyes. robby closes the distance between the two of you, placing a loving kiss on your lips. “i thought it was cute,” robby confesses once you seperate. “especially since you’re wearing my shirt,” he continues, a giggle escaping your mouth. “stop being cheesy,” you say, pushing him away from you. “but you love it,” he remarks, sitting down on your bed. you roll your eyes, “i guess.”    

four: your date at the roller rink

it was 80s night at the roller rink, and you and robby were long overdue for a date night. you and robby decided to go as people from the outsiders. robby as a soc and you as a greaser. “an enemies to lovers typa beat,” you explain, fixing his jacket. robby just nods along, too busy admiring you in your ripped jeans and leather jacket. 

“i’ll go get the skates. wait here,” robby says, kissing your cheek as he walks towards the rental counter. shortly after, robby comes back with two pairs of skates. “thanks robby,” you say, placing a chaste kiss on his lips as he sits down on the bench next to you. “okay ready?” robby asks, and you nod, grabbing his hand as the two of you head over to the roller rink. 

together you skate leisurely around the rink. laughing and singing along to the 80s songs that the dj is playing. while the two of you are skating hand in hand when the song i would die 4 u by prince comes on. “oh my gosh! i love this song!” you cheer, excitement all over your face. robby chuckled at your words, “i know. i may have put in a request with the dj.” you smile so big when robby said that. “you’re the best robby,” you say, and robby could tell that your words were genuine. robby just smiled at you, listening to you sing along with prince.       

five: midnight baking session

you couldn’t sleep. it was 12:00 at night, and you could not fall asleep. robby on the other hand, was fast asleep. well you thought he was fast asleep when you left your room to go to the kitchen. it turns out that robby wasn’t asleep because he was now standing in the kitchen, watching as you grabbed different ingredients. “what are you doing y/n? it’s twelve am,” robby asks, a tired yawn escaping him. “i couldn’t sleep so i decided to make some brownies. want to help?” you ask him, and you're practically begging him with your eyes to say yes. “why not,” robby mumbles, joining you. 

“yes! okay so can you go get the medium saucepan? it’s in that cabinet over there,” you instruct, pointing towards the cabinet. robby nods tiredly and gets you the pan, wrapping his arms around your waist once he brings it to you. “tired?” you ask him, measuring out the flour. “just a bit,” robby replies, resting his head on your shoulder, kissing your neck. you giggle, moving your head away from him. “stop that tickles,” you say, looking at the snoop dogg cookbook. 

about forty minutes later, you and robby are sitting on the couch watching friends and eating brownie sundaes. “these brownies are so good,” robby says, basically moaning at the taste. “yeah babe? do you like them?” you ask, cuddled up to his side. robby nods vigorously. “they are so good. you better make these more often,” he says, looking at you. “i will,” you promise and robby nods gratefully. the two of you continue to watch the show and eat your ice cream.

“hey i’m done. do you want me to put your bowl in the sink?” robby asks, sitting up from his spot on the couch. “yes please,” you respond, handing him the empty bowl. robby takes it from you, but not before placing a kiss on your cheek. “what was that for?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “you had some chocolate there, and maybe i just wanted to kiss you,” robby replies and a huge smile encompasses your face. 

it was now three am and george lopez was playing. you were asleep on robby’s chest, while he was watching the show. “i love you robby,” you mumble tiredly, cuddling into his chest more. robby tenses at your words, but he smiles and places a kiss on your forehead, quietly repeating the phrase back to you.    

one: when you visit him in jail

you sat down at the table, waiting for robby to come out. you were fidgeting with the tupperware of brownies you brought for him. even though you had come to visit robby multiple times, you always got nervous waiting for him. the door opened and teenage boys were walking into the room. your eyes immediately searching for robby. he saw you right away, and walked over to your table.

“hi robby,” you say quietly once he sits down. robby gives you a small smile, “hi baby.” it was quiet for a minute, but you quickly broke the silence by shoving the tupperware container towards him. “i made you brownies. the snoop dogg ones because they’re your favorite,” you explain and robby smiles widely at you, grabbing your hand that was resting on the table. 

“thanks. i’ll eat them as soon as i can,” he says truthfully. “are you okay? they haven’t been bugging you have they?” you ask him quietly, looking over his face for any bruises or cuts. robby chuckles at how worried you are. “i’m fine y/n, i promise. you don’t need to worry about me,” robby says and you roll your eyes at him. “i worry because i care and because i love you,” you answer, casually slipping that three word phrase in there. robby sits there in shock for a minute before an even bigger smile takes over his face. “i love you too y/n,” he says, squeezing your hand. a smile as big as robby’s takes over your face too. 

“so what’s been going on?” robby asks and you immediately jump into a ramble about the newest book that you’ve been reading. meanwhile, robby just smiles, proud of himself for finally telling you how he feels. 

taglist: @iwantahockeyhimbo @estupidteen​ @funprincess101​ @mrfeenyisswag   

[wearywinchester]

Tender

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When hiding an injury from Dean doesn’t go to plan, he’s there to give you the comfort you need.

Requested by @latenight-daythoughts: “Hey! I have a request for a Dean one shot please, could you do one where she gets hurt on a hunt and tired to play it off until they get back to the bunker and when dean patches her up it hurts more then she thought, so she starts crying and Dean comforts her and is all cute and sweet? I love your writing btw!!”

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: angst, injury, blood, fluff, comfort, kissing

Hurt. You got hurt on that hunt and you weren’t quite sure how you talked yourself out of it with Dean. Maybe you actually did, but a part of you told you that was more than likely impossible. Not with the look he gave you or the glance he spared down at your leg. But he seemingly took your word for it at that very moment.

Your eyes squeezed shut for a moment as you took a breath, trying your hardest to make it to the Impala sitting just a few feet away. Every ounce of pressure on your leg made it ache all the more as you walked, walked like you insisted you could do to a persistent Dean the moment he saw the look on your face. But you told him you were fine, staving his worries with a smile and a witty counter that had a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

It was fine, so long as you kept your weight off of it as much as possible until you could clean yourself up, it’d be fine. At least that’s what you’d told yourself.

You were relieved once you’d slipped in the front seat after Dean suggested you sit up there with him, Sam in the back, a quiet sigh leaving your lips as you slumped back against the leather seat. The fabric of your jeans over the wound on your thigh had been frayed on the brink of being ripped, but not enough to draw your eye should you be anyone but yourself or Dean Winchester. Stains of crimson hadn’t been visible on the dark denim material, but you were sure it’d be obvious the moment they came off.

As you sat, you felt that ache on your leg begin to lighten some, that pain shooting down it dissipating now that you hadn’t been standing on it.

It shouldn’t be that bad, not really, you’d snagged it along the edge of something sharp when that demon had thrown you with so much as a flick of her hand. You were sore overall, something a hot bath might help with when you make it back to the bunker. But you’d yet to see your leg, to see just what damage lay beneath your jeans.

“You sure you’re okay, sweetheart?” Dean asked, pulling your attention from your thoughts.

You looked to your left, Dean’s gaze shifting from the road to look at you for a moment or two before looking ahead.

“‘M fine, De,” you murmur, that aching burn on your thigh threatening to spill over your emotions and give you away in an instant.

He looks at you again in a lingering glance, his lips pursed in disbelief, brows furrowing at the way you looked down at your leg with a frown, or the way you brushed your thumb over that very spot you said was nothing. He saw how your lips twitched downward in a deeper frown for only a mere second, quickly brushing it off with a sigh and a bite to the inside of your cheek before he looked forward once more.

You knew, by the light tension in his jaw and the crease between his brows, you knew he could see there was more to it than that.

After a moment or two you scooted a little closer to him, your hand grabbing his own. He felt the way you brushed your thumb along his knuckles in an absentminded habit, your gaze fixed out the window in an attempt to set your attention on anything other than the burning feeling that simmered on your skin.

It was okay. You were fine.

Your hand hadn’t left Dean’s nearly the entirety of the trip, something he noticed and something he didn’t mind, something that had him smiling softly at the mere thought of it. But something that was just as quick to steal that smile was the very look on your face each and every time he glanced over at you, a slight frown on your lips that you weren’t even aware you had, and that crease between your brows very much there.

You sighed when he parked in the bunker’s garage that night, getting out before he could come and help you do it. The look on his face was evident that he wasn’t happy with that, those dimples appearing by the corners of his mouth as he looked at you over the roof of the car.

“I’m fine, Dean,” you say, meeting him and Sam at the trunk where you’d grabbed your bags.

“You say that every time, sweetheart,” he counters.

“Maybe this time you’ll take my word for it,” you say, brows raised as you put your bag over your shoulder.

He chuckles then, head shaking as he closes the trunk. You tried your best to be convincing, and so far he hadn’t pried, but that very same feeling was back now that you were up and walking around, pressure back on your leg seemingly worse than before.

You found yourself grateful that Dean had chosen to walk ahead, Sam beside you, making it just a little easier to hide the change in the way you walked. Just enough to get you to your shared room without being terribly obvious. But it hurt, it hurt more and it was becoming increasingly more apparent to you.

You were home, and that’s what made things a bit better for you. You weren’t in some motel anymore, weren’t in the Impala anymore, you were home in the comfort of your familiar place with your room, your bed, and Dean. Despite the nagging pain wearing away at you with every movement of your leg, you tried not to think about it that much, and tried not to think about how it’d feel upon taking your jeans off. How it’d look given that you haven’t even seen it yet.

Dean dimmed the lights in the hall and bid Sam a goodnight like he always did, twisting the knob to your shared room and pushing the door open. Everything was as you’d left it just three days prior, the bed still made and ready to climb in and Dean’s slippers still tucked halfway under the bed, his pajama pants still slung over the back to the small desk chair.

“There’s no place like home,” Dean chuckles, sighing as he drops his duffel bag on the floor at the foot of the bed right next to yours.

You watched as he untied his boots and stepped out of them, unease settling over you as you took your own boots off, fighting the urge to scrunch up your face at the way your jeans pressed into your leg as you bent down.

You couldn’t hide this from him forever, you don’t think that’s possible when you really think about it. But you still weren’t willing to give it up, you could see the look on his face already if he knew. So, you bit the inside of your cheek and shrugged off your jacket, eyeing him with a soft sigh.

“I’m gonna go shower before bed,” you say, smiling when he turns to face you.

He simply hums, dipping down to kiss you.

“Don’t be too long,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling back with a grin.

“Is it ‘cause you’ll miss me too much, Winchester?” You ask, brow raising in amusement.

You watch as the corner of his mouth quirks upwards, a laugh leaving his lips as he nods to himself, tugging back the blankets on the bed. It very much was the reason and he knew it, no matter how much Sam picks on him for it all in good fun, he just can’t help it.

“That’s exactly why,” he says, tossing a clean flannel of his your way along with a pair of boxers because he knows just how much you love to wear them to bed. Doesn’t even need you to tell him that very fact because he sees you snag a pair from his drawer every night without a care that he’ll see you stealing them either.

You stand there for a moment more as you look at him, your smile soft and fond as you hold the clothes in your hands. After that moment, you find it in yourself to turn on your heel and step into the hall, heading towards the bathroom. Your heart was bursting with the very thought of him sharing his clothes with you, of the very idea that he’d been so thoughtful, but the wound on your leg was making it awfully difficult to think about anything other than that.

You switched the light on and closed the door behind you, setting the clothes down on the counter. You turned the faucet on and stuck your hands under the tap, the water cold as it splashed across your face. It was a little more refreshing than you felt before it, soothing the fatigue that’d been settling over you only temporarily.

Dread simmered in the pit of your stomach at the thought of having to take off your jeans, but it wasn’t doing you any good to keep them on.

You exhaled a sigh, eyes squeezing shut as you hooked your fingers in your belt loops. It was fine until you got about halfway, and you found yourself fighting the urge to let out the cry that’s been sitting in the back of your throat, the feel of the rough material scraping over your thigh making it all the more difficult to stifle it.

It was then that you saw it, the blood smudged over your leg and the scrape that ran across your skin, angry and red as it tapered just above your knee. You ran your hands down your face at the sight of it, having been less than ideal but you knew it couldn’t have been good.

You kicked the dirtied jeans to the side in frustration, sighing as you opened the cabinet below the sink. You snagged the first aid kit and the bottle of peroxide just next to it, grabbing a clean wash rag.

This could have been avoided, maybe, but at that moment you were struggling to figure out just how it could have been. Demons were unpredictable, able to sense a trick with ease, able to tell when someone’s lurking with the intent to leave one less demon in the world. They give ample opportunities to be outsmarted, though, but this didn’t seem to be one of those times. There was no match for a human against the powers they hold save for the weapons that served you no use that day. You were thrown clear across the room without a beat of hesitation, something done with ease.

So maybe, just maybe it wasn’t avoidable this time.

You knew Dean saw it, he had to. It was more than obvious that there’d be repercussions to being thrown a good seven feet into a less than unforgiving cabinet. He knew you better than to believe that you were as fine as you say you were. He knows you like the back of his hand, can see your stubbornness from a mile away because he’s the very same.

You wet the wash rag at the sink, taking a seat on the bench by the showers. You began to blot away the blood, nose scrunching and eyes squinting as the burn of the jagged scrape worsened from it.

It was then that there was a knock on the door, a more than familiar voice on the other side.

“Sweetheart? ‘M coming in, I forgot to—”

Your eyes widen as the door opens, gaze meeting green eyes before his stare shifts downwards to the rag in your hand, splotches of a pale crimson staining it. They bounce to the source, to the irritated and red scrape dragging along the outside of your thigh, nearly classifying as a cut but not quite.

“Y/n.”

“Dean, it’s not—”

“What, ‘it’s not a big deal’?” He says, anger seeping into his tone. Not at you, never. It was when he thought back to that hunt that has him angry.

“Dean,” you sigh.

He’s quick to cross the tiled floor, kneeling in front of you. He nudges your knee with his hand gently, the tips of his fingers brushing along your skin. You saw the crease between his brows deepen, lips parted as his eyes bounced over the entirety of the wound on your leg. You can see the way his jaw tenses, tight and unwavering and if it were possible, steam would be coming out of his ears at that moment.

“Damn it, Y/n,” he says quietly, a frustrated huff leaving his lips. “You didn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to freak out,” you reason, brows furrowing as you tilt your head to the side slightly.

His gaze narrows up at you in disapproval, your reasoning something that was near laughable to him, you even knew it was ridiculous too the moment the words fell from your lips.

“You can bet I’ll freak out,” he says, his chuckle humorless as he runs his hand down his face. “This is exactly why I didn’t want us to split up.”

“Well, we did.”

He bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at you, breathing out a huff through his nose. He was upset more than anything, with himself you could tell, could see the frown on his lips as he grabbed the wash cloth from your hand and picked up where you left off.

He was gentle as he wiped away the dirt and blood smeared around it, more so than you despite the white-knuckled grip he’s got on the tattered cloth. You tried to keep your attention on anything else, anything other than the way your leg had been so sensitive even the most mild of touches as hurt. You tried to keep your gaze on him, distract yourself with the abundance of freckles speckled across the bridge of his nose and over his cheeks.

They were easy to distract yourself with on any given occasion, on times where you didn’t need to be distracted, when you shouldn’t be. But for the life of you, you couldn’t bring yourself to get lost in counting them this time, not with the numbing pain serving as a painful way of keeping you fixated on just that.

“You should have told me,” he says quietly, residual anger still wrapped around his tone with the softness of his words. But he was more concerned than angry.

You puffed out a humorless laugh through your nose, your grip on the bench you sat on tightening some. “I’m not exactly jumping at the idea of running to my boyfriend every time I get hurt on a hunt.”

Your tone is frustrated, embarrassment simmering in the pit of your stomach over the current situation you were in, not to mention the way it happened. You’d never get taken seriously if you ran and cried to Dean each and every time you got hurt. You barely felt like an adequate hunter as it is, you didn’t want to add to it. You would have been fine if he hadn’t seen it.

“Y/n, this isn’t some puny little paper cut, okay? This is way different than just slapping a bandaid on it and kissin’ it better.”

“I said I’m fine, Dean,” you say, jaw tensing as you look away.

You hated the way your voice was beginning to falter, swallowing thickly in hopes to push down the persistent lump in your throat. Now was not the time to cry, not in front of him. That would only make matters worse and you don’t think you could handle that.

“It doesn’t make you weak to ask for help, not even a little bit. You don’t have to play the tough guy act all the time.”

You stay quiet as you continue to look away from him, the pressure building behind your eyes. When you glance down you see he’s got that dreaded bottle in his hand, popping the cap open with his thumb. He’s hesitant as he tips the bottle, the clear peroxide having poured steadily over every inch of the wound on your leg, bubbling and stinging the moment it touches the damaged skin.

You felt your lip begin to quiver, near uncontrollable as it throbbed and burned, the pain worse than you thought as you bit down on your lip. It was almost unbearable, a numbing kind of pain that brought heat to your cheeks and quickened your heart. That pressure behind your eyes increased then until you just couldn’t handle it, lip free from your teeth as you hid your cry in your shoulder.

But it turns out, you’re not that good at hiding, not from Dean Winchester. Not that it was very hard to notice either.

He stopped immediately, gaze flickering to you, cheeks wet with hot tears and lip quivering in a way that tugged at his heart. His hand settled on your cheek, a gentle nudge to get you to look at him.

“Sweetheart,” he starts, the fond nickname something that makes you cry all the more in that moment.

You wrap your arms around him and he settles back a bit as he holds you closer, brows furrowed and jaw tense because seeing you so upset is one thing he can’t handle. Seeing you cry is something that tears him to shreds every time.

His grip on you is tight, his stubble pressing into the side of your neck. He’s cautious of bumping your leg, his throat clearing to try and stave off that pressure constricting around his throat from that very same lump forming as it did you. You could feel the kiss he pressed to your cheek, one to your temple, lingering and sweet. Dean Winchester could be the gruffest man anyone’s ever seen, but he’s got the softest heart, and if there’s one thing he can do without fail it’s comfort.

He finds himself pulling back when you loosen your grip, lip still wobbly as ever as you look at him with glossy eyes. You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand, cheeks that burn with embarrassment for crying even though he didn’t mind it in the slightest. He didn’t mind the tears on his shirt, didn’t mind the snot to go with it. That’s the least of his concerns, they all pale in comparison to you.

“It hurts,” you whisper, your gaze shifting to his at the feel of his hand on your cheek, calloused and warm.

“I know it does, baby. Hell, I couldn’t even imagine what that feels like,” he says, smiling softly. “But ‘m almost finished and the ugly part is over, I can promise you that. You just gotta let me take care of you, okay?”

You nod, the patience in his words having set you at ease as you sniff, wiping your tears once more when his hand falls from your face in favor of sorting through bandages. He comes up with a few cotton pads, laying them over the length of the freshly cleaned wound as you sit there, still sniffling from having cried.

He’s more than careful as he takes the roll of gauze and wraps it around your thigh, securing the bandages completely with care to not make it too tight before he tucks in the loose end.

“You’re good as new, sweetheart,” he says, looking up at you.

You flash him a look, biting the inside of your cheek as you laugh softly, not quite humorous. “I’d hardly call it that.”

You’re grumbling, but he takes that hint of a smile as a good thing, standing halfway to press a kiss on your cheek and one to your lips, another to your forehead as his hand brushes over your cheek before he stands fully and swipes the clean clothes from the counter.

You stand with a look of unease, trying your best to keep the pressure on your good leg before that dreadful pain can jolt up your other. You shrug off your shirt in favor of his flannel, the soft material hanging loosely from your shoulders in a heap of warm and fabric softener and a hint of his cologne. It’s a simple thing that amounts to more comfort than you can express, the mere feeling of it putting you at ease.

He helps you with your pajama bottoms, trying not to fuss over you as you did it yourself, instead offering his arm for your balance that you found yourself needing more than you thought.

Your bed was more comfortable than you’d imagined coming home to, leaps and bounds better than that motel mattress. The sheets were soft and they too smelled like Dean, the blankets warm and hefty as they rested over top of you.

Dean brought you close enough to nearly share a pillow, the events transpiring earlier that day on the hunt having sunken deep in the pit of his stomach and simmered there, bringing with it that anger that hadn’t quite left. It made his stomach twist and churn each and every time you got hurt, the blame he put on himself having picked at him every single time without fail. Especially when it brings you to tears, especially when it’s got you so bothered it’s got you crying into his shoulder.

He hates it, he hates that part of hunting.

But regardless, those kind green eyes meet your gaze as he looks at you with a soft smile, his fingertips brushing along your cheek. He’s got that look on his face, one that’s telling of something humorous sitting on the tip of his tongue just waiting to be spoken.

“What, De?” You sigh, feeling the residual tension of your tears beginning to dissolve just a little more.

He chuckles, looking down for a moment as he shakes his head. “If I were you, ‘think I might’ve cried way sooner than you did.”

You roll your eyes then, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Dean, that’s a lie and you know it.”

“Is not,” he insists, lips pursed to stifle his smile.

You look at him, tired and amused as you make no effort to hide your smile. He’s got that smile, that one that makes your cheeks burn and your heart flutter every time he looks at you like that.

“Whatever you say, Winchester,” you sigh, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips.

You find yourself lying atop his chest as he turns the tv up a little bit more, his chuckle rumbling against you. He tossed the remote down, the very tip of your finger tracing over his chest. Your legs tangle with his own, your injured one on top as you turn a bit more on your side. He’s got reruns of your favorite show on because he knows you’re too tired to watch the new ones, knows you like to have it on when you fall asleep.

“Goodnight, De,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his chin before sinking back down on his chest.

He smiles in that moment, soft and sweet as his thumb brushes back and forth over your shoulder lightly.

“Night, sweetheart.”

You’re fine. You’ve got him and you’re okay.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @deandaydreaming @campingmonkey @lanea-1 @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @taikawho

[daisiesandshakes]

Hi can I request jealousy headcanon for Isaac,Arthur,Mozart,comte please

Hi dear nonny! Thank you so much for your request 💖

Sorry it took so long, night shifts were exhausting...

Here you go, I hope you like it! 💝

(@ashavazesa , I'm tagging you, maybe you like it!)

Jealousy headcanons

for Isaac, Arthur, Mozart &

le Comte

Isaac

The shy, poor boy doesn't know what hits him, he wasn't prepared... It is the first time he's really in love and it is his first time being jealous.

He wouldn't talk about his feelings in the beginning, because he feels a bit ashamed about them. Additional he's not used to talk about feelings anyway, so he bottles up.

You recognize his strange behavior like avoiding your glare, his abrupt short answers (especially towards the male who causes the jealousy), but at first you can't figure out where it comes from. He would also act more possessive than usual, suddenly kiss you firmly in front of others or pulling you close.

Though he knows you love him truly, he's unsettled deep inside and needs your reassurance. You'll have to push him slightly to open up, to tell you what's on his mind. When he does...oh boy.

With glowing eyes and fervent words he'll beg you to SHOW him your love, pushing you onto the bed. Needy for your touch and your words of love, nothing remains from his shyness. He won't let you go the next hours, making sure you're really his.

"Isaac, please tell me what concerns you... did I something wrong?"

You're sitting next to him in his room on the edge of the bed.

"N- no... It's not that."

His behavior was oddly brusque today and you are really concerned.

With a sigh you overthink what happened all day and then something klicked. You spent a lot of time with Napoleon while he teached the kids. Could it be?  "Isaac, are you jealous?"

The vampire flinches and draws his gaze away from yours, a blush appears on his handsome face.

You cup his face, forcing him to look at you. Gazing deep into his beautiful cherryblossom eyes you ask "Isaac, you know that I love you, that my heart belongs only to you, don't you?"

"Y- yes. My head knows it, but..." suddenly he pushes you down.

"Show it to me." He whispers, his voice husky and deep, his eyes dark with passion before his lips captures yours in a fiery kiss, his fingers ripping your blouse open.

Mozart

Mozart is probably the worst with jealousy (besides Theo). He even can't stand the thought of another male being too close to you. It doesn't matter if it is another resident or a complete stranger, he is very possessive and you only belong to him. No other has the right to touch you.

If someone touches you by accident, his possession drives him to get rid of the foreign scent on you immediatly.

When it's a strange male (talking to him would be enough to drive him crazy), he would be broiling jealous, unable to express himself. Normally Mozart is very straight forward, but not when it comes to express his feelings for you. Blaming you for being too trustful, he would even start an argument.

But Mozart loves you so much, you're so precious to him, he'll regret his harsh spoken words soon and searches for a way to talk.

Admitting his jealousy, he shows you that there is only one way to calm him down. Claiming your body and mind he would train you to who you belong until the sun rises and your voice is hoarse.

"M- Mozart, what-" you gasp as he pulls you behind the thick curtains, sealing your lips with his. "You spent enough time with the other residents." He breathes hard as he pulls away. "Especially with Leonardo. I don't like his cigarello scent on you." Your eyes grow wide. "Wolf, are you jealous?"

A faint rose appears on his cheeks. "I don't want to be...But yes I am."

"But... You don't have to be jealous. I love you so much, Wolf. There is no room in my heart for another man."

"I know, meine Liebe. But it seems that my heart doesn't accept this truth fully." His radiant violet eyes pierces into your soul.

"What can I do to make you feel better, Wolf?"

A slight smirk plays at the corner of his lips as he leans forward. "Await me in the thermae. I'll make sure the only scent that remains on your body is mine, and obviously I'll have to remind you the next hours to who you belong." fervent spoken words next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Arthur

He never felt jealousy before. Being a rotten flirt, Arthur is used to be the reason for that emotion, he never thought it could happen to him.

Trying to hide his feelings he'd cover them with playful words and actions. But when a male approaches you and gets too close, he won't think twice to make clear you are HIS girlfriend, holding you at your waist, whisking you away.

Deep inside Arthur has the feeling he doesn't deserve you, so he is afraid to loose you and gets easily jealous. He wouldn't like to admit it to you , worried he could scare you off.

But you are not able to overlook the pout and scowl on his handsome face or to overhear the truth hidden behind his joking words, irrelevant how much he tries to mask his feelings.

Arthur has a deep longing for your reassurance in words and body language, he needs your touch so bad, be prepared for exhausting, delightful hours between the sheets after he got jealous.

You are sitting on the couch in Arthur's room, rambling about your day with Vincent. Lately he gives you advices in painting techniques and you enjoy them, happy to make progress in your hobby. Arthur looks up from the papers with a smile, sitting at his desk.

"Darling, you sound really happy. I know you enjoy painting with Vincent, but are you sure you didn't decide secretly to leave your filthy boyfriend for this pure angel, Luv?" Arthur chuckles. For a split second a hurt expression appears in his loving gaze and his voice didn't sound as lighthearted as it should. You set your cup of coffee down with a surprised look on your face. "Are you jealous?"

A slight rose tints his cheeks as he pulls his gaze away.

You hurry over to him cupping his face and locking eyes. "Arthur, you are the only one for me. You are the love of my life, you know that, don't you?" Your thumbs caress his cheeks.

Arthur's big blue eyes waver at your words and he inhales deeply.

"You have no right to be this adorable" he whispers with a husky voice as he pulls you on his lap. Kissing your lips ardently his fingers already unbutton your blouse. "Say that again, luv" he smiles at your lips. "And then I'll make sure you won't ever forget that you are MY adorable girlfriend" he breathes at your skin as his lips travel from your jaw to the neck.

Le Comte

Comte seems to be always so calm and thoughtful, but when it comes up to you all this is nothing but dust in the wind. He waited for you and your love for centuries, now that you are his he's confronted with the deepest fear of loosing you.

Also he is insecure inside, thinking he doesn't deserve someone so precious like you (are you surprised?). This uncertainty is more fuel to the fire of the jealousy that rages in his heart.

Despite his always graceful and sublime conduct le Comte is very passionate and possessive. He can't bear another man touching you, even it is only your hair. On the other side he wants you to live freely, interacting with the other residents as usual. So he would get jealous real quick, but:

Wearing a mask of gentlemanly behavior and used to lock up his feelings you wouldn't notice his jealousy until it's "too late". Maybe it was only you and Leonardo in the library, sticking heads together and giggling about something. Maybe it was a stranger at the market, picking up an apple for you that dropped to the floor, holding your delicate hand while putting the apple into it.

When he corners you after that in his room, there'll be no escape. Le Comte will make sure that you're his, taking possession of your body and mind until there is nothing left but thinking of him and moaning his name. He will only stop when you pass out due to the overwhelming passion.

Le Comte cocks slightly an eyebrow due to the sight that is presented to him in the library. Arthur stands in front of the bookshelfs, carrying you bridal-style. "What happened?" he asks with honest concern. "Oh, our pretty dove wanted to spread her wings. I catched her as she fell from the ladder" Arthur replies lighthearted. "Luv, if you want my touch so bad, all you have to do is ask. You don't have to risk your health to get it" smirking he looks deep in your eyes. You feel your cheeks grow hot as you hit him at his shoulder. "Put me down, Arthur!" With a wry chuckle he lets you go, giving le Comte an amused sideways glance. "Okay, my performance as a hero is over, back to work then." With these words Arthur leaves the library and you exhale, looking concerned over to the pureblood. "You know that it was only an accident? I feel a bit embarrassed and.." Le Comte cuts you off, smiling gently.

"Ma cherie, don't worry. I understand what happened, everything is fine."

With a relieved smile you pick up the dropped books "I should have known, that something stupid like this doesn't concern you..."

You hear a sharp inhale and look up. His expression is serious, his eyes burn like melting gold in a furnace. Approaching you with slow, predatory steps he asks softly "When did I say I don't care?"

With a fluid move he pins you against the bookshelf, kissing you senseless. You both pant for air as he breaks the kiss. "I await you in my room. Now. Your chores are done for today." Comte leaves you with trembling legs.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it 💝

[kkodzvken]

suit up - hawks x f. reader

the one where keigo marries the girl of his dreams, and then takes her home and shows her just how loved she is. title cred/inspo: suit up by jonghyun

notes/warnings: smut and fluff (your teeth may rot and fall out, you’ve been warned), soft dom!keigo, praise kink, slight size kink, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex + creampie. reader and kei use the traffic light safe word system and they review it beforehand, and he checks in with her at one point but she’s green, so everything is 100% consensual. they flirt + kei says explicit things at the reception but nothing /actually/ happens in public. mentions of alcohol

wc: 5.3k

a/n: this idea’s been bouncing around my head for a while bc i wanna marry this dumbass so bad :’) my first full hawks fic!! im so happy hehe

Beautiful.  

You’re so beautiful.

Keigo’s always known, of course. He’s found you beautiful since the very first moment that he laid his eyes on you, all those years ago. He tells you that you’re beautiful every single day, no matter how much you roll your eyes or jokingly tell him to shut up.

You’re beautiful all the time, but there are certain moments that leave him especially breathless. The day that you foolishly challenged Rumi to an arm-wrestling match. The determined look in your eye as you clenched your fist, sweat dripping down your brow and arm muscles straining (you lost, of course – the rabbit hero was ridiculously jacked). The brilliant smile that graces your face whenever he brings you flowers or little souvenirs from his work trips. The very first morning after you moved into his penthouse, when he woke up next to your peaceful sleeping form, and realized that he’d have mornings like this for the rest of his life.

The day that he flew you up to the mountains for a starlit picnic. The smile on your face as you polished off your meal, and the way that your hand flew up to your mouth when he got down on one knee. Your teary-eyed look of pure love as he slipped the ring onto your finger, the diamond gleaming like one of the stars that shone down on you. The way that your eyes rolled back and your legs wrapped around his waist when he took you home and fucked you for hours.

And right now. Keigo swore that his heart damn near burst at the sight of you. The organist was playing, but he couldn’t hear the notes, couldn’t hear anything besides the blood rushing in his ears. Your hands clasped an elegant flower bouquet, and Keigo was sure that the blossoms were pretty, but he couldn’t spare even a second to glance at them. No, his entire focus was trained on you. You, with your beautiful dress that perfectly accentuated the body that he loved so much. When your eyes raised to meet his, and that perfect smile worked its way across your face… he had to bite his inner cheek to try and hold the tears back.

In a simultaneous eternity and heartbeat, you were handing off your bouquet to a bridesmaid and clasping Keigo’s large hands with your much smaller ones. The officiant was speaking, but Keigo didn’t process any of it. The sight of your eyes shining up at him, more beautiful than any of the stars in the night sky, was the only thing anchoring him to the world. He felt like he was floating through a dreamscape with only you, the happiness in his chest powerful and all-encompassing.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You’re talking to a group of your old friends from high school when a tap against your shoulder grabs your attention, and you turn to see your fiancé – no, your husband – smirking down at you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “Excuse me, ladies,” he says to your friends. “Mind if I steal her for a moment?” His amber eyes glint mischievously, and you swear that a whole swarm of butterflies take flight in your stomach.

Your friends giggle and nod, and then Keigo’s spinning you around so that you’re face-to-face. He’s stunning, in his black suit and red dress shirt, the shade of crimson matching his wings perfectly. “Dance with me, dove,” he says, before leaning down to press a quick kiss against your lips. You nod, and he leads you towards the center of the venue, where most of your guests are dancing to some cheesy pop song. Keigo nods at the DJ, who nods back and switches to the music. Soft synth notes travel through the speakers, before the singer’s dreamy voice floods your ears.

Your hands find their way to his broad shoulders. His wings move to wrap around you protectively. You’re not sure if he even realizes that he does it – it’s such a normal thing, now, for him to shield you, to create a little cocoon for the two of you. You frown as you feel his muscles moving underneath your fingers. “You’re too tense,” you say, fingers gently kneading at the parts of his back that you can reach. “Let me give you a massage once we get home.”

He chuckles, one of his own hands coming up to capture yours. He laces your fingers together before bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss against your skin. The look he gives you is so tender, the love radiating off his body so palpable, that it makes your knees feel week. “Sweet, but I’m the one who’s going to be taking care of you tonight.” You open your mouth to protest, but he tuts, and a feather flies up to shush at your lips. “No, listen. You’re driving me crazy. Every time I turn my head, I see you looking so damn beautiful that my heart stops. Makes me wanna just pull you away and rip that pretty dress off.”

You gasp at his words, a pretty blush dusting your cheeks. “Kei! People are gonna hear you!”

He shrugs, pulling you even closer and swaying your bodies lightly to the music. “Let them,” he says nonchalantly, but the glint in his eye is pure sin. He leans down so that his lips brush against the shell of your ear. You can’t help the shudder that wracks through your body as his warm breath hits your skin. “You’re so cute when you’re blushing like that. Did I make you flustered, baby?” His fingers release yours, instead gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his eyes. “Answer me, love.”

You nod, feeling small. Only Keigo can affect you like this, can reduce you to a trembling mess with just a few words.

You love it.

He smirks at your confession, pressing a kiss against your cheek before leaning his forehead against yours. “What do you say we jump ship, babe?” Your confusion must show on your face, because he continues. “I think I might die if I have to wait much longer to get my hands on you. And judging by the way you’re acting… I’d bet good money that you’re already dripping for me.”

“Kei!” You swat at his chest before burying your face in it. He laughs, one of his real, genuine laughs that makes your heart soar, before kissing the crown of your head.

“I don’t see you denying it.”

“Shut up.”

“Aw, is my cute little wife flustered?”

Wife. The word sounds so pretty rolling off his lips that you can’t resist retreating from the safety of his chest to press your lips against his. He cups your face with one of his large, rough hands and kisses you back. His wings shift to cover you up before the hand on your waist moves down to pinch at your ass – or, at least, it tries. The layers of your dress obstruct him, and he growls in frustration.

You can’t help but whine as well. You want him all the time, of course. Years of being together haven’t changed how fucking badly you want him all the time. You’d used up all your willpower behaving for the ceremony and the reception so far. You’d been good, had kept your hands to yourself throughout dinner and the toasts. But now, the mix of his body against yours, the dirty words that he’d whispered into your ear, and the cocktails running through your bloodstream were making it very hard for you to ignore the pooling heat between your legs.

You wanted him. You wanted your husband.

“Please,” you whisper. Under normal circumstances, you’d hate how whiny and pathetic you sound, but you’re too far gone to care. “Please, let’s go, Kei. Need you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A few whispered words to Rumi, and a knowing smirk from her, and you were gone. It was surprisingly easy to slip out the venue. You’d expected to be stopped by some nosy family member, but it seemed that everyone was too tipsy and having too much fun to care. Nevertheless, you had to be careful once you stepped out into the fresh night air. The number two hero’s wedding was perfect paparazzi bait. You didn’t even want to think about the feeding frenzy that the media would go into if they caught sight of you now.

The night sky was like a shield, though, and it protected you from prying eyes. You’d been discreet when picking the wedding and reception venues, and even more discreet in choosing your honeymoon destination. Tomorrow morning, you and Keigo would fly up to the mountains, where he’d rented a little cabin for the two of you. By some miracle, he’d managed to get a whole week off work – a whole week where you’d have him, entirely to yourself.

But right now, you aren’t thinking about tomorrow morning, or the lovely, peaceful honeymoon that you were about to embark on. Right now, the only thing you can think about is Keigo. Keigo, with his beautifully messy hair that moved like ocean waves as you soared through the air. There’s nothing in this world that you love more than flying with him, pressed against his sturdy body with his strong arms wrapped around you. Light pollution makes it hard to see the sky from the ground, but up here, the moon and stars are breathtaking.

Almost as breathtaking as your husband, who’s eyes are prettier than any stars could ever hope to be.

He looks down and catches you staring, taking him in with your wide, wondrous eyes. You can barely hear anything through the noise-cancelling headphones that he makes you wear whenever you fly, but his words reach you, clear as day – “I love you.”

“And I love you.” Your voice comes out small, stolen away by the rushing wind. You try again, louder this time. “I love you!”

He chuckles, chest shaking as he tries to keep his laughs contained. “You trying to one-up me? I can be loud too.” He takes a deep breath, before tipping his head back and shouting an I love you up into the heavens.

His lips are soft and sweet as candy when they dip down to meet yours. “I’m just so happy,” he whispers against you. “You make me so happy.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The moment that you set foot into the penthouse, you gasp.

“Oh, Kei,” you breathe, hand flying over your mouth.

He bounces nervously as he locks up the balcony door, not meeting your eye. “Do…do you not like it?”

You march up to him and grab his face in your hands, before standing up onto your tip-toes and planting a kiss on his forehead. “I love it, baby. Really, you’ve outdone yourself.”

He perks up at the praise, kissing your lips once before his hands move down and he picks you up, clean off the ground. You can’t hold your shrieking laugh back as he spins you around, a smile lighting up his face like a god damn Christmas tree.

The house is beautiful. Really, he did outdo himself. Back when you’d first started dating, he’d had to call off your six-month-anniversary date because of a mission. You’d assured him that it was fine, that you understood, but you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t upset. He promised that he would be back in a week at the latest. You’d spent the night with your friends, eating ice cream and watching shitty movies, and left for work the next morning. You weren’t expecting him back for a few days at least, but when you opened your door after an exhausting day at work, he was there, waiting for you. Scratches on his face and bandages on his arms, but he was there. And he’d decorated your apartment with flowers and fairy lights, centered around a haphazardly made blanket fort in the center of the living room. Little candles were placed across the room, each with a red feather standing guard, making sure that the flames didn’t accidentally get knocked over and grow. After you’d gotten over your initial shock – how the hell did you get in here, Kei – you ran into his arms and squeezed him, tight. He didn’t let go of you for the entire night – his body always pressed against yours, fingers constantly entwined, even as he made you cum so many times that you forgot your own name.

It was one of your fondest memories, one that always brought a smile to your face. You’d mentioned it offhandedly last week, while you were in the weeds with wedding planning. Honestly, you didn’t think that he’d even heard what you said, with how stressed and busy the two of you were. He was picking up extra patrols to make up for his honeymoon vacation time, and you were working your ass off to get your overbearing boss off your back.

But he had heard. He heard, and he listened, because that’s just the kind of lover – the kind of husband – that Keigo is. Attentive, sweet, and intuitive. You swear, he spoils you beyond belief. You don’t even know when he got the time to decorate the apartment today, but it’s beautiful. Even more beautiful than the decorations from your six-month-anniversary, because this time, the sight is sweetened by the knowledge that this is your shared home. This isn’t just your apartment, that your friends helped sneak him into so he could fancy it up. This is your shared space, where you’ll spend the rest of your lives together. Where you’ll wake up in his arms every morning, his wings wrapped around you protectively, fragmenting the morning light into shards of red. Where you’ll make meals together and laugh at his bad cooking, where you’ll take sanctuary from the harshness of the world. This place is your home. Keigo is your home.

He finally stops spinning, but refuses to set you down. Instead, he readjusts you so that he’s carrying you bridal style. You almost laugh at how cliché it is. It feels like something out of a cheesy rom-com, but you’re so happy that you feel like you’re in one of those rom-coms.

You do laugh out loud when you see the trail of petals leading to your bedroom. Keigo feigns disappointment, dramatically sighing. “Don’t laugh, princess, you wound me.” That just makes you laugh even more, and soon, he’s joining in, burying his face in your hair as he walks the two of you towards the bed. “C’mon, I’m trying to be romantic! Quit making me laugh!”

“I can’t help it,” you giggle as he gently places you onto the bed. Thankfully, he had the common sense to not put any petals on the actual bed, but the floor is absolutely covered. Blossoms line the walls as well, along with candles that bathe the room in their gentle glow. You take a second to admire how beautiful your husband looks in the soft light. The shadows make his wings seem that much bigger as they unfurl to their full size. He looms over you, looking like the most delicious mix of devil and angel that you’ve ever seen. There’s still a playful smile on his face, but something mischievous simmers beneath it.

“Hope you didn’t forget what you said at the reception hall, baby,” he says, eyes glinting. “What was it? Hmm, something like, need you, Kei, need you to take me home and fuck me, I’m already so wet for you.”

You groan and try to bury your face in your hands, but he’s too fast. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, easily wrapping them with just one of his large hands. “You’re making shit up,” you pout. “I only said the first part.”

“So you admit you said it? That you need me?”

“Shut up.”

“Mm, no thanks.”

You groan again, trying to suppress your smile. There are plenty of times that you and Keigo have had “serious” sex, but you mostly find yourself like this, devolving into giggles and teasing. There’s something about him that makes you feel so safe and at ease, and you can’t help yourself from giggling at his stupid remarks. He laughs, and releases your wrists to cradle your face with both his hands. He shifts so that he’s properly on top of you, his thighs on either side of your hips, and bends down to press kisses all over your face.

“My wife,” he breathes, in between kisses. “My sweet, beautiful, amazing wife. This dress is so pretty, but let’s take it off, my love. You don’t need it anymore.”

It takes a few minutes of awkward wriggling and tugging to finally remove the lace monstrosity, but at long last, the dress ends up on the floor. Keigo’s hands are on your body in an instant, fingers trailing over the curve of your waist and snapping the waistband of your panties. “God, you’ve got such pretty little lingerie on.”

“Wanted to dress up for you,” you say, pawing at his tie and trying to loosen the knot. It makes you feel small, to be so exposed while he’s still fully dressed. Normally you love to savor in that feeling, but right now, you need to feel his bare skin against yours. “Now take your clothes off, please.”

You finally manage to loosen his tie enough to pull it over his head. After stopping for another deep kiss, your hands continue their path over his body. His suit jacket comes off next, although he has to help you gently maneuver it off his wings. His cuff links clatter to the ground as you almost viciously rip off his dress shirt, and you moan when you finally feel his warm muscles.

You’re practically grinding into each other by now. Little whines leave your lips as you shamelessly roll your hips, seeking any friction you can get. You can feel his hardness, even through his thick pants, and you chase it with vigor. He’s not much better, a light blush dusting his face as he meets your rolls with shallow thrusts of his own. “Off, off, Kei, need to feel you,” you babble, fingers desperately trying to undo this belt buckle. Breathlessly, he pushes your fingers aside and pulls his belt off, unceremoniously throwing it across the room. You half expect it to collide with a candle and set the entire building on fire, but a few feathers fly out to catch it and gently set it down.

You don’t waste a second in pulling his pants down and throwing them as well, trusting that a feather will keep it from crashing into anything. Your fingers try to pull down the waistband of his boxers, but he tuts and grabs your hand.

You look up at him with pleading eyes. “Please,” you whine.

The smile on his face is gentle beyond belief as he answers. “I told you that I was going to take care of you tonight, baby. Let me make you feel good, okay? Can I make you feel good?”

You want to protest, want to beg him to stuff your face or your cunt and fuck into you until you’re lightheaded, but Keigo’s insistent about making you cum at least twice before even thinking about his own pleasure. And you can’t deny that you’re aching for him. You’re certain that you’ve soaked through your flimsy panties by now, and your mind is hazy with want.

You nod. Keigo takes your face in his hand, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Can you give me your colors too?”

You force your mind to push through the fog, force your heavy lips to move and form words. “G-green for good, yellow for slow down, red for stop.”

“Good girl.” The praise goes straight to your core, and you whine. “Oh, baby, I know I just vowed to give you everything you could ever want, but you’re so damn needy. Be patient for me, okay? Let me touch you.”

You nod obediently, but you can’t fight the urge roll your hips and feel him again. With a soft, scolding noise, he presses one of his hands into your hipbone, effectively pinning you to the mattress. Try as you might, you can’t squirm away. He’s so ridiculously strong, his muscles toned from years of training and hero work, that you’re no match for him. But it’s not so bad. You love the dominance that oozes off his body as he moves down, his hands and tongue exploring every inch of skin that they can find. His teeth nip at the sensitive spot on your neck, the spot that always makes you melt for him. You shamelessly sigh and tilt your head to give him more access.

His right hand, the one that isn’t currently pinning you to the mattress, plays with the lacy edges of your bra. He palms you through the thin fabric, making you groan and arch your back into his touch. It’s not enough, you need more, need to feel more of him before you lose your mind. He seems to read your mind, because he doesn’t even bother to unclasp the bra, electing instead to rip it clean off your body. The snap of the straps breaking makes you gasp, but you revel in the sting of the elastic bouncing back against your skin.

“Couldn’t wait,” he says, not a hint of shame on his face. “You know how much I love to tease, but fuck, I need you now.”

He’s a bit more ceremonious when he removes your panties, choosing to use a hardened feather to slice through the fabric instead of just ripping with brute force. He fucking moans at the sight of you, wet and needy for him. It sounds like absolute heaven, but you don’t have even a second to revel in it before he’s diving into you. The sudden rush of pleasure is electrifying, and you go to instinctively slam your legs shut, but Keigo’s hand is too fast again. His tongue doesn’t falter for even a second as his fingers dig into your thighs and push you open. His lips wrap around your clit and suck, and he’s outrageously loud as he moans into your sex. It’s all so much – he’s licking at you like a man on death row, coaxing little whines and gasps from your lips.

His beautiful eyes are trained on yours, pupils blow out with love and lust. He memorizes every little expression that flits across your beautiful face as he eases a finger into you, eyes only leaving your face to admire the way that your little cunt sucks him in. But he can’t tear his gaze away from you, and the way your mouth falls open, or the way that your eyes flutter and roll back. The way that your hands ball up into fists, alternating between grabbing the bedsheets and lacing through his hair. Fuck, he loves how you pull at his hair when his fingers curl up against that spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Loves the little curses and gasps of his name that spill past your lips as he scissors and thrusts his digits deeper and deeper into your perfect pussy.

“Cum for me, princess,” he groans. “Please, cum for me, need you to be a good girl and cum for me.”

And, well, you did just vow to give him everything that he could ever want.

You throw your head back and almost sob as you gush all over his face and fingers. He’s insatiable, licking and fingering you all through it, desperately trying to lap up every single drop of your juices. Your body is shaking, and you whimper, the overstimulation building until it’s too much, until you’re crying out too much, Kei, ‘s too much!

“Give me your color, baby,” he says, slowing his assault against your body.

“G-green,” you stutter out, the words as shaky as your legs. “Green, don’t stop, it’s just – ah! Kei!”

Your verbal confirmation was all he needed to dive back in, sucking at you with even more vigor than before. His fingers twist and curl against your spot, and his tongue lashes at your clit. He doesn’t stop for even a second, burying himself in your heat. It’s all you can do to maintain your grip on his hair, tugging at it just the way that he loves. You’re thrust headfirst into your second orgasm of the night, crying out his name and positively sobbing at the onslaught of sensations.

When he finally pulls away, the lower part of his face is soaked with your cum. He makes a show of licking his lips clean, not breaking eye contact with you, no matter how much you blush and squirm. He saves his fingers for you, though. A gentle tap at your lips is all it takes for you to obediently open your mouth and take in his digits. You swirl your tongue around, eyes lidded with the afterglow of your pleasure.

But you’re not finished, are nowhere near finished. You suppose that you are being needy, but how could you not, when your husband looks like an absolute fucking god? The candlelight makes your cum on his face glisten beautifully. You whine and pull him in for a kiss, mashing your lips against his and greedily swiping your tongues together. It’s sinful. You can taste yourself on him, and it makes you shudder, makes you need him that much more.

“Please, please fuck me,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his slim waist and trying to pull him closer, closer, closer. “Please, Kei, need you inside me, need my husband inside me.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, so quietly that you would’ve missed it if you didn’t feel the word formed against your lips. “Fuck, baby, okay.” His hand slides between your bodies and quickly pushes his boxers down. He uses a feather to pull them all the way off, because he can’t be bothered to focus on that, not when you’re practically drooling at the sight of his cock.

Your fingers twitch, and you aren’t able to hold back any longer. Your hand finds his cock, marveling at how heavy and perfect he feels as you wrap your fingers around him and guide him towards your sopping cunt. You pause before you slide him in, though, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Can I ride you? Please?”

He curses again under his breath, practically shivering at your words. His strong hands reposition the both of you, until you’re sitting on his thigh and he’s leaning back against the headboard. He cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “Well, then? Get to work, princess.”

You roll your eyes, trying not to laugh at his antics. “What happened to Mr. Let-Me-Take-Care-Of-You?”

“He’ll come out later. If my pretty wife wants to ride me, she gets to ride me.”

You laugh for real this time, but it quickly turns into a moan as you sink yourself down on his length. No matter how many times you take him, he always overwhelms your senses, always stretches you so deliciously. You lean your forehead against his and give yourself a second to adjust, and then you’re rolling your hips, little whines leaving your lips.

“Feels so good, Kei.” You throw your head back, your fingers digging into the strong muscles of his back to anchor yourself. “You always feel so good.”

His eyes are half-lidded and dark as he takes you in. He’s memorizing every inch of your body, every detail and movement that he absolutely fucking adores. “You’re the most beautiful thing in the world,” he whispers, seemingly more to himself than you. “So beautiful. I’m so lucky.”

Your thighs burn, but you force yourself to ignore the pain. You’d rather die than stop right now. His strong arms encircle your waist, and his wings surround your bodies, ruffling with every one of your movements.

You want to ignore your exhaustion, but your husband is perceptive as ever. His hips raise up to meet you, and it sends a fresh wave of pleasure through your body. You’re shaky, though, and you’re getting sloppy.

Before you can even process what’s happening, you’re being spun over and pinned to the mattress. A gasp leaves your lips, and you whine as his cock slips out of you. Your hand reaches out and paws around wildly, searching for him through your haze. Keigo’s quick to kiss you and shush your protests, entwining his rough fingers in your searching hand and stroking his thumb against your palm.

“Relax, angel. Let me take care of it.”

He slides into you again, making you both moan. Your pussy sucks him in greedily, clenching and fluttering around him. He pauses once he bottoms out. His face buries into the crook of your neck, and he presses sweet kisses all over your skin.

You wrap your legs around his waist and squeeze, trying desperately to make him move. “Keigo, baby, please,” you whine, fingers digging into the strong muscles of his back.

He coos, cupping your face and kissing you before he readjusts himself. “Of course, pretty girl.”

His thrusts are deep and hard, so hard that they make the entire bed shake. Your eyes flutter shut, but he grips your jaw and begs you to keep them open – please, baby, look at me, need to see my pretty wife fall apart.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he moans, teeth nipping at your lips. “So perfect, and all mine.”

“All yours,” you agree. You’re practically babbling by this point, unable to stop the noises slipping past your lips. You’re floating on a cloud, soaring through the sky, anchored only by his body against yours. “You’re so deep in me, Kei, can feel you so deep in me. Please, ‘m so close, just a lil’ bit more, Kei.”

He coos again, hand slipping down to toy with your clit. You wail, sinking your teeth into his shoulder as the coil in your stomach snaps and you gush uncontrollably. You can’t do anything but cry out for him, can’t do anything but cling onto him and shake and twitch. The feeling of you clenching around him is too much, and with a broken fuck and a cry of your name, he spills inside of you. He fucks you through it, the obscene sounds of your combined release making you feel lightheaded and weak.

He holds you for a few minutes, just like that, bodies entwined. You both pant and try to catch your breath. The weight of his body on top of yours is comforting, so you protest when he finally pulls out and sits back to admire the way that his seed drips out of you.

“Come back,” you complain. “What kind of husband doesn’t give cuddles to his wife?”

“The kind of husband who needs to clean her up,” he says with a chuckle. “C’mon, let’s go take a bath.

Your body feels boneless with exhaustion and the hazy afterglow of your three orgasms, so you’re grateful when he scoops you into his arms. You tuck your face into his neck and hum contentedly, unable to stop the giddy smile that blooms across your face.

“I love you, Kei,” you say, planting little kisses over his neck and jaw.

“I love you too, princess,” he says, grinning and poking your nose. He laughs when you scrunch it up and scowl at him. But, with how cute he looks, you just can’t hold the scowl for long. Soon, you’re giggling too.

You look up at him with so much love that it makes his heart ache. His eyes grow a bit more serious, and he dips his head to kiss at your swollen lips. “I mean it, baby. I’m so happy to spend the rest of my life with you.”

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one with Victoria’s boobs

Description | Victoria needs help taping her boobs for an upcoming performance. You get more than you bargained for.

Content | fluff

Pairing | Victoria x gn!Reader

Word Count | 2420

Some situations in life simply could not be dealt with without a strong cup of coffee. Heading out to an exam, waking up to a text from that ex who still grinds your gears, missing your train, and being late for work ... You, however, thought you were doing fine today, mood high and excited for the day ahead. You had slept in and left the hotel at a reasonable time. You’d do what you loved - make-up - and then watch the band play a kickass show. No additional kick needed to pump you up or help you deal with the hours ahead. You changed your mind the second you opened the dressing room door and came face to face with Victoria's tits. Actually - scratch that - you would need a drink to deal with this.

"Y/n! Finally! I need you, come here." While Victoria's face brightened up considerably as her eyes met yours, a smile spreading on her gorgeous lips, you could feel your cheeks heating up. She didn't seem to notice or mind, instead grabbing your hand and dragging you further into the room. Your bag slid off your shoulder, unceremoniously hitting the ground and staying there, forgotten and in the way. "If Damiano keeps ripping off the tape one more time to readjust, he's going to take my nipple off."

"Hey!" He objected. "I'm just trying to improve your boobs, lady!"

"You can't improve perfection, Damiano."

The bickering gave you a moment to evaluate the scene before you. The dressing room was a mess, clothes everywhere and a stylist bustling around, trying to keep the damage to a minimum. Ethan was currently admiring his reflection in the mirror, hands running through his hair, while Thomas kept rummaging around the chaos. And right before your eyes, Victoria, in satin trousers but topless, with Damiano still trying to fix the cross he had put across her left nipple, as Vic kept slapping his hand away.

"Honestly, babe, I need you," she pleaded as your eyes managed to remove themselves from her bare chest and met hers instead. "I can't do it myself because when I try to do it in the mirror it looks weird when I put my arms down. And Damiano just about managed one cross that doesn't look wonky as hell after about 43 attempts."

"I did not need 43 attempts! I was just trying to -"

"Stop it!" Vic slapped his hand away once more, harshly enough for the sound to echo. "Go gel your hair or something, I've got Y/n now."

"I'm your make-up artist, not -" You didn't quite know how to finish your sentence. You weren't what? Victoria's personal boob inspector? Professional nipple-taper?

"Exactly, which means you've got an eye for aesthetic, so please put this tape on me."

You couldn't refuse Vic either way. Not when she was staring at you with those impossibly blue eyes, silently begging for your help. With a sigh, you grabbed the tape out of her hand, slowly unrolling a bit. You had only known her for a little while, but well enough to be aware that she wouldn't back down. Vic was already reaching for a pair of scissors, but you were quicker, tearing the piece of tape off with your teeth.

"Sexy, but scary," Victoria concluded. "But mainly sexy."

You didn't have the mental capacity to deal with what she had just said. Actually, you didn't have the capacity to deal with what you were about to do, but that was a pill you'd simply have to swallow. You hoped your shaky fingers weren't giving you away, as you crouched to eye-level with Vic's boob.

You had never much thought about the feminine beauty of a naked woman's chest before, but your current angle was making you question all your past convictions.

Maybe you were into girls after all.

Maybe you were just into Victoria. It was a thought that had been lingering in the back of your mind for a while now.

As your fingers lightly touched her skin, careful to get the placement just right, she flinched. You looked up, gazes meeting, and for a second there was something in her eyes you couldn't quite pinpoint, but it was gone before you had a chance to reflect on it. Instead, she giggled, "It's way too hot for your hands to be this cold."

Way too hot indeed.

You tried to make quick work of the task ahead and not to stare at her breasts too intently. Not to touch her soft skin too obviously. Not to let your beating heart get the better of you.

"I knew you'd get it perfectly!" Victoria exclaimed, turning towards the mirror and examining her now partly covered boobs. "You just got that kind of eye, Y/n. Thank you so much."

She had thrown her arms around you before you could react. It shouldn't have come as much of a surprise, Vic always being a rather touchy person by nature, but this time she was half-naked, her chest pressed against your shirt. Your arms carefully wrapped around her back, briefly letting yourself enjoy the feeling of silk-like skin under your fingertips, then quickly letting go and taking a step back. Your heart had gone from beating to straight-up racing. You were in so much trouble.

"I'll just put on the rest of my outfit and then you can do my make-up, yeah?" Her eyes shone at you in gradients you hadn't seen before. All you could do was nod dumbly, knowing that nothing was ever going to be the same again.

***

You hadn't meant to go out drinking with the band, you really really hadn't, yet here you were, sitting in a dark corner of some trendy bar in the middle of Berlin, trying to duck out of every video they filmed for Instagram and sipping on your drink. The mood was euphoric and everyone kept singing along to the songs playing in the background, but you kept to yourself. Your mind was still spinning with images of Victoria, memories of her skin on yours, and the fact that she was standing in front of you right now didn’t help. She was beauty personified.

“Y/n! Dance with me!” Victoria pulled you out of my thoughts as she pulled you up into a standing position.

“Vic, no one is dancing in this bar.”

“So?”

She had never been much impressed with what other people were doing. You quickly downed the rest of your drink, handing the glass to Damiano, who sent you a conspicuous wink. Whatever that was supposed to mean. You were still standing a little awkwardly when Victoria took your hand and twirled you around, a heavy slap to the bum hitting you while your back was towards her.

“Come on, Y/n, let loose!”

The shock of her actions only lasted a split second, before you broke out into giggles and let her pull you further into her. Her arms wrapped around your neck, trying to move you to a beat that was much too fast to be this close and entangled. You didn’t mind. Hell, you decided, you would never mind anything she did to you ever again. You didn’t even take notice of Damiano, Ethan, and Thomas dancing along around you, too focused on the way Vic was holding you and pressing you against herself. You couldn’t tell anymore if the elation you were feeling was because of the drink you’ve had or because she was looking at you the way she was. In the heat of the moment, you pushed a strand of her from her face, fingers lightly trailing along her cheek. Her mouth was on yours in an instant, pressing a bold kiss against your lips, but it was over before it started and suddenly her body wasn’t pushed up against yours anymore and you felt lost and cold. Victoria was now slinging her arms around Thomas’ neck instead, leaving a similar kiss on him, before giving Ethan and Damiano the same treatment.

Your heart couldn’t decide if it wanted to keep beating or start breaking.

***

The next days were pure torture. It didn’t help that Victoria had developed a newfound love for going bra-less - and an appreciation for you taping her up. Her behaviour wasn’t much better. You bent over to pick something up? Slap on the butt. She walked by you? No way she wasn’t going to brush past you in some way. Sitting on the couch? She was cuddled up to you in a heartbeat, face mushed into your neck, her breath softly tickling your skin.

Pure torture.

It all came crashing down the night Victoria decided to shake up the hotel room arrangement. She would usually room with Damiano, while you shared with other members of the team that worked behind the scenes. Until you were all gathered in the lobby of your hotel for the night and she loudly announced she was sick of listening to Damiano snore every night - “What the hell, I’ve never snored in my life?!” - and instead was going to sleep with you. Sleep with you. You didn’t miss the looks and snickers of the others as she phrased it exactly like that.

You didn’t have a choice, really. You simply weren’t the type of person to protest - and Vic knew. So you followed her up in the elevator, down the corridor, and into the room like a lovesick puppy, internally debating whether you were dreading this or looking forward to it. As soon as you had both dropped your luggage, she disappeared into the bathroom without another word. You didn’t miss the fact that she did not even attempt to close the door.

Two single beds. You breathed a sigh of relief. No awkward there-was-only-one-bed situation. Or maybe you felt a bit of disappointment. Maybe- No. This needed to stop. You were going crazy. You were supposed to do a job on this promo tour, be professional, maybe make friends with the band if you were lucky, but instead, you were falling deeper and deeper and it all ended with the fact that you had never felt this way about anyone else. It pained you to think that Victoria wasn’t feeling the same. And she definitely wasn’t - you were sure of that. She was a flirty person, she liked to touch and kiss those around her, but none of it went deeper than that. And you were going to have to accept it for what it was.

You were still in the middle of convincing yourself of not feeling anything more than friendship for Victoria when she emerged from the bathroom. Wearing nothing but a pair of panties. It was in that moment you knew you would never get over her.

“VIc, you need to stop doing this.”

Her face fell immediately, going from overly cheeky - which seemed to be her default expression these days - to genuinely concerned. Concerned, and confused. She was by your side in an instant, holding you by your upper arms, seemingly searching your face for answers.

“Do what?”

The direct question was filled with a softness that almost brought tears to your eyes. For a second you contemplated taking it back, changing the topic, and ignoring how emotionally draining the past days had been, but one look into her eyes told you that you needed to be honest with her. Now or never.

“You need to stop touching me. You need to stop riling me up at every opportunity, you need to stop teasing me and brushing up against me because-” The words seemed trapped in your throat. Victoria had moved away, immediately adhering to your request to stop touching you and you hated it. You wanted her hands back on you, you wanted all of her on you. One more deep breath. “Because I cannot stop thinking about kissing you. And I’m not talking about a little friendly peck. I’m talking about kissing the ever-loving shit out of you now and forever.”

It happened so fast. Victoria was on you before you had even finished your last words, lips pressed to yours in a heated and hurried manner, arms wrapping around you to press her body against yours. You reacted as if on autopilot, as if your body knew what to do simply because it had been waiting for it. Your hands tangled themselves in her hair as you responded eagerly to her kiss, before running them down her cheeks and to her neck.

This was nothing like the time she kissed you in the bar in Berlin. That time didn’t even come close to what was happening now. If your heart had been beating before, it was pounding out of your chest now. You thought that for as long as she promised to put her mouth on yours anytime you asked, you would be invincible.

The kiss ended rather slowly. A few pecks and staying close, breath fanning on each other’s faces, eyes still shut for a while until you two managed to separate. Victoria’s smirk was back, tenfold and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Imagined anything like that?”

“You know I did,” you admitted, feeling slightly shy all of a sudden.

“Honestly, though,” Vic said, brushing your hair from your face in the most tender motion. “I’m sorry I put you in a weird position. I think my way of flirting just didn’t work on you.”

“Oh, it worked alright,” you laughed. “I just wasn’t sure you meant it that way. Especially when you kissed me that night and then proceeded to kiss everyone.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t clever. I think I was just scared because you didn’t react so I tried to play it off.”

Victoria pushed another kiss onto your lips, sweet and short and full of reassurance, then promptly hugging you with a force that sent both of you tumbling onto one of the beds. Laughing with all your heart, you pushed her off you but made sure she never strayed too far. You couldn’t help but be amused at the state you were both in, faces heated up and giggly, you fully clothed while Victoria was still lounging in nothing but a pair of black panties.

“For God’s sake, Victoria put some clothes on,” you mocked her, even though you both knew there was no reason for you to mind it anymore.

“You know, I think it’s quite fitting,” she contemplated instead. “It started and ended with my boobs out.”