#and they responded by trying to smack it away only to end up falling themselves

[galacticnova3]

@onenicebugperday Bit of an unfortunate update, but not without hope.

A week ago as of posting this, Green Bean Casserole had a pretty severe mismolt. I think they fell and got stuck behind their favorite stick in an awkward position after leaving the exuviae. I only found and assisted them the next morning, but by then their exoskeleton had already hardened up. Thankfully all of their limbs are intact and functional, but, well... The situation is far from ideal, as you’ll see.

At first I was pretty worried they wouldn’t make it; they seemed to be struggling to move around due to the deformity, falling when climbing and generally looking wobbly. I moved them to a different terrarium set up for my flat headed snake Absinthe, both because of the softer substrate and the lack of skinks that might be bold and attempt to take advantage of a weakened mantis. I wasn’t even sure if food would be able to pass through their system, and they had no interest in prey at all, which wasn’t a good sign. However, with some adjustments to the layout of the temporary terrarium I moved them to, they did climb and manage to hang from the lid with some effort. GBC seemed like they were a fighter, and the day after the bad molt they accepted and ate a grasshopper, so I decided to see if I could get them to their next molt and hopefully allow them to recover.

They’ve since adapted to their new shape, and I’ve moved them back to their usual terrarium for easier monitoring and better sun access. They’re climbing and hanging without falling, eating well, and drinking water droplets from the screen lid when I water the terrarium. I’d say they’re about as close to thriving as they could be in this situation! Here’s how they’re looking today. Ignore the escapee grasshopper in the background, its jailbreak was short lived…

I do feel a bit mean for making this comparison, but…

There’s a bit of a resemblance, isn’t there?

[demonslayedher]

Well... after spending most of my day languidly sighing about having to wait for more content but how much that content is gonna hurt, I did my rewatch with a friend and we spent about an hour pouring over every detail of it and how good it was, as well as our apprehension about the pacing of combining other content into movies. As much as we'd love to see a return to a 60 episode anime arc for the sake of momentum, we come to Ufotable expecting quality, and they wouldn't decide to do this unless they had a plan for how to make it quality. Try though I might to guess how and where they'll split this into three movies, it's all guesswork (heck, maybe they'll even switch the order of things around so that Douma's defeat comes before Akaza's for the sake of a more complete-feeling movie.

But the thing that makes me most sad about the announcement, now that it is official and not just a rumor, is that I don't know how long I have to wait.

And what will I get at the end of this wait? The death I fear watching the most, and they're gonna make me go through that in the theater, and not even at the end of the movie. That's gonna be almost right at the start.

Phew. Anyway. We really did gush and gush and gush and gush about everything that was so good in this episode, and it's because of this that I trust Ufotable (mostly). There is SO MUCH to gush about it, and it doesn't just come down to the slow-mo explosion and use of color to show how healthy Muzan is in comparison to Kagaya and the layering and timing of images and sound, but also just what the editorial decisions did to take Gotouge's characterization and make it unmistakable.

It's such a good reminder than what has kept me so deeply in this is the characters themselves, the layers going on between what we're given. Like, Kagaya only being able to trust Himejima with this mission, knowing there is a possibility Himejima will have to hold his own against Muzan, for who knows how long, and how is touched by Kagaya's faith in him, and how the unsurprising realization settles that this will indeed be a fight until sunrise, and the relief as well as the pride he feels when the other Hashira assemble so quickly, and the way his voice cracks when he announces who they are looking at? And nobody else made that connection except for Tanjiro, for their thoughts were so wrapped up in either holding out some desperate hope that their master might respond to them calling out his name like Mitsuri and Iguro, or like Sanemi consumed with the thought this demon, whoever he is, killed their master, for again, only Tanjiro who smelled the explosives seems to realize right away that this was on purpose? And the fact that Kagaya thought through every one of those five Hashira, and decided one by one that he couldn't tell them his plan? Even Shinobu, who herself has the very same plan and has discussed it with Kagaya, cannot be entrusted with the knowledge that he plans to use himself as bait. And that Kagaya, for every word he said, he was very consciously stretching that out, second by second, knowing that any extra innocuous thing he can get Muzan to listen to, whether it be prattling about tigers and dragons or asking Amane what he looks like, is going to save his children precious seconds of having to keep an onslaught going until sunrise. The little touches of characterization, like drawing us in to wonder if Zenitsu is sleeping and then revealing that no, indeed he is not, and the fact that Nichika and Hinaki had to choose to go outside, to a courtyard where a stranger was already standing, to start playing and do their best to play up their innocence for the sake of adding seconds more of distraction, and the way Kagaya turns toward Amane in the very last second, and Giyuu looking for Tanjiro as they fall, and despite everyone else stuck in free fall or smacking into things, Tanjiro, the only one who has seen Muzan before, is the only one to find his footing, is such a good main character moment.

And the "people's feelings are inextinguishable" moment among candlelit graves? Thank you. I had been thinking about those graves ever since we didn't see them in any of Muzan's strut through the previous episode.

Okay, speaking of linking images with sounds and lines, the fact that Kagaya brings up how Muzan hasn't been forgiven for ruthlessly taking away others' lives, and how it focuses especially on Hinaki and Nichika, whom Kagaya has already chosen to do the same to? And the hot linger of slaughters innocents represented by all those toy balls? AND HOW EVERY MOMENT MADE US MANGA READERS FLINCH AND THINK "NOW IT BLOWS UP"? Yeah, that was good.

Also, Japanese Netflix did not include the Taisho Secret. I don't know if this extra-secret Taisho Secret was only available on FujiTV or something, but when it comes to the mood this episode set me into, I'm glad I didn't initially see it. While I'm generally happy it exists (and I've been hoping for this kind of content ever since the previous season), I wish they would have had a little more restraint to make it sweeter. But hey, it was still sweet and I bought a sweet potato today for obvious reasons.

[kalembappe]

Kylian Mbappe-13, aftercare after your first time having sex together, Fluff /suggestive

Firsts | k.m. 7

a/n: sorry it took so long anon even if it's short but i still wanted make it a little sweet WAAAHH😭 (the pics r rlly random and idk where to put the keep reading thing without the pics glitching, sorry) wordcount:1308

“You’re always trying to get ahead of yourself.” In a blink of an eye, he’s already in front of you. With the many times you’ve seen him doze off, you didn’t think he was a light sleeper–but you digress, given that your boyfriend is now standing in front of you, clad in just grey boxers that looked way too good on him, his arms crossed on his chest.

And just to clarify, you weren’t getting ahead of yourself, you were just trying to make things convenient by doing it on your own, quietly.

It’s not the first time you shared a bed with each other, meaning there were other times that you indeed left the bed to go to the bathroom undetected. But this night wasn’t like those nights.

There’s nothing you can really say, you just didn’t wanna be caught struggling out of bed, but here you were. You sigh to yourself, unable to have the heart to tell him you were shy.

Kylian, the inconveniently observing man that he is, senses a slight discomfort from your lack of words. Arms untangling and finding themselves on your shoulders, brushing your hair away from your neck before falling back to his sides. “Are you okay?” You blink up at him, sputtering over words that won’t come out.

“I’m– yes.” It’s a flat answer but it’s not enough for him. Your eyes flick to the bathroom door, his gaze following yours for a split second.

  He looks back at you, “Were you trying to… what…pee?”

It catches your attention. You groan, “Ew, why do you care?” There’s a small quirk in his mouth that he forces in, trying not to laugh at how you’re reacting so violently, but ultimately he failed when he spent a second more looking at your bothered face. Your ears burn, “JUST…! Let me go to the bathroom.” It’s amusing to Kylian how you’re still the same after everything you’ve done together, with each other. He isn’t a stranger to your hostility, it’s more endearing to him now that you’re his. His reminiscence is cut short when you swing your feet over the bed, attempting to continue your mission but the numb feeling between your legs return, causing you to let out a strangled squirm.

This alerts Kylian, his eyes shifting into a more concerned expression.“ I can help you if you’re having a hard time.” It’s a warm sight, the moon barely peeking out the window but it’s still enough to light you from behind, small marks still fresh on the right side of your neck and a duvet wrapped on your front. You got a pout on your lips and that crinkle on your forehead that you give him when you think he’s being unreasonably annoying, he doesn’t have the heart to tell you how much it makes him feel whole.

He stares down at you, it feels intimidating from your receiving end, but it isn’t his intention. You’re always quick to fold when it’s him, case in point; two hours ago– or now, when his hand finds your face, the other resting on your neck rubbing soothingly. “What’s wrong?”

You’re putty in his hands, “Can you help me up?” With glossy eyes, you stare back at him. He can feel the warmth of your cheeks on his thumb as it rubbed up and down, he knows it’s mean but he likes it when you’re embarrassed, he finds it cute almost. He knows you, he knows you’re never one to stop yourself from talking the way you want to anyone, he knows you act out when you want to, but he also knows that he’s the only one who could get you hot and bothered. Without another second to contemplate, he lifts the duvet off you before bringing you flush to his chest in a bridal carry. You yelp, soon covering your own mouth when you remember there are other people in the building.

“You should’ve done that a while ago.” The comment catches you off guard, immediately responding with a smack to his head. He walks to the bathroom unbothered, your head tucked in his shoulder, warm skin and all.

He drops you on the counter, you flinch at the cold marble on your skin. He hears you curse quietly, drawing a snort from his nose. He feels a little bad knowing he’s the reason for your demise, but it’s already been done and all he can do is make up for it. A displeased look graces your features when your face meets his, not too far from each other.

“Are you gonna watch me use the toilet too?”

“I don’t know, will you be able to walk yourself there?” Again, he leaves you in a mess of stutters. “What are you so red about?”

“Ky, I’m nearly naked!” The words echo in the bathroom, your arms instinctively wrap closer around yourself as if it were an admission. Your boyfriend stands there, with his wide brown eyes that could coax you into anything, he didn’t expect you to be so flustered.

But what you did expect is how Kylian laughs with his chest in response. It’s hearty, and it makes you warm–it doesn’t help with all the emotions clashing on you. “Ma belle, I’ve seen everything at this point!” You hide your face in your hands, unable to look at the cackling man.

  If it wasn’t clear enough, this is new territory you’re dealing with. You’ve known Kylian for as long as you can remember, you’ve been through a lot. You’ve had many firsts, many of his are with you, all of yours are with him.

You’ve done a lot of very embarrassing things in front of each other even, yet you still flush at his light teasing and hands that linger on your body. It never made sense to you how someone could be so uncertain about something yet crave it so deeply. Until now.

He stares sweetly, sympathizing with your state. “I wasn’t going to leave anyway.” You feel him nudge your elbow; a signal to let him see your face–steadily, you do. Sometimes, he thinks, you could physically catch his breath, no, steal it. He stares at you like he’s seen the sun for the first time, you fight the urge to hide again. He steals a chaste kiss, unable to resist himself, “I still have to take care of you. You can barely walk.”

“No thanks to you.” He smirks at your wit, you never let up, always having the last word. So close can share them between your lips, his nose brushes against yours like it always does when you part from a kiss.

Something else you did notice was how he’s more handsy now. As if he’s claiming every part of your flesh he could reach, leaving his hands on you just to touch. Like now, his hands are rubbing your hips, pinky gaining closer to the swell of your ass that’s been sitting on the counter. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?” It's a genuine question but it still makes your heart beat a little faster.

He knows you’re about to fall into old habits when you're looking down again, away from him, but this time you press flush and bury your face in his neck, arms wrapping around his torso. He doesn’t see your face, but the touch is enough.

  “Just a little.” You answer late. He repeats in a whisper “A little?”, the breath tickles the shell of your ear and it has you giggling like an idiot. He apologizes, you forgive him with another kiss that turns sloppy, the taste of wine from your dinner still strong on his tongue as it swipes against yours upon entering your mouth. Hands are on you again. Warm and greedy, getting ahead of himself.

[iluvchanniesposts]

How Skz reacts to you asking if you can do their hair

**

Chan

It was one of those days where his frizzy hair just wouldn’t go right. He tried wetting it, spraying it and putting products in but his cute little curls kept coming back. “What’s wrong, baby?” You asked him as you noticed his distress. “My stupid hair. It’s so annoying.” He ran his hands over his face in annoyance, staring at himself in the mirror. “Well, let me do it.” You shrugged. He peeked at you through two of his fingers through the mirror, raising a brow. “You want to do my hair?” He reworded. You nodded, sending him a reassuring smile. “Okay. But don’t get mad if I end up falling asleep.” He laughed and sat between your legs on the floor.

Minho

Spending the evening with Minho was free therapy. Watching movies and just enjoying each other’s company was a perfect night for you. He was laid between your legs, face resting on your chest as you both watched the tv. Your hands kept finding themselves in his hair, playing with the soft tresses. “Minho?” You started, quietly in case he was asleep. “Mmm?” His voice was croaky from sitting in silence for hours. “Can I style your hair?” You questioned as he shuffled around in your torso. “Why?” He rubbed his eyes to wake himself up a bit, sitting up to look at you. “It would be fun!” You smiled and so did he. “Whatever makes you happy, babe.”

Changbin

You had just watched the new Stray Kids sleepover video where Seungmin styles Changbin’s hair, and it sent you into hysterics. Seeing how stubborn his hair is even against straighteners made you curious. “Can I style your hair? I promise I’ll do a better job than Min.” You batted your eyelids at him and he smiled. “My hair doesn’t move.” He giggled and shuffled his hand through it to show you. “Please let me try!” You clasped your hands together in a begging motion. “Okay. But if you make it look bad, you’ve had it.” He playfully threatened and sat on the chair in front of your vanity dresser.

Hyunjin

“I’m bored.” He huffed out, chucking his phone across the bed. With the motion he made, a few strands of hair fell in front of his face. You couldn’t stop staring at how pretty he was in that moment. “Can I do your hair?” You blurted out. “What?” He looked at you like you were crazy. “I want to do your hair. I have a good style for it.” You admitted. He obliged pretty much straight away, probably because he was bored. You straightened it and flicked up the ends on some parts. It was half up half down with a few strands falling in front of his face. “Can you do my hair every day?” He admired himself in the mirror.

Han

“Can you wash my hair for me?” Han asked. “Why me? You’ve got hands!” You spoke with your back facing him as you washed the dishes. “Because I like the way you massage my scalp.” His voice got closer as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Okay fine, but only if I get to style it after too.” You knew this was the only way you would do it; with a bribe. “You’ll make me look bad.” He laughed as you smacked his shoulder. “No I won’t. I think that’s impossible.” He rolled his eyes and dragged you up the stairs. “You will be the death of me.” He said jokingly as he gathered all the equipment for you to use.

Felix

“I really want to style your hair.” You looked at him with squinted eyes as you thought of some styles. “Really? How?” He was curious as to how you would even style it since it isn’t that long. “Can I do it and show you the results after?” He thought for a minute. “Yeah, okay. But I have to go out later so make sure it’s good. I’m trusting you.” He laughed and sat in front of you. “There’s no reason for you to not trust me, Lee Felix.” You spoke as you examined his hair. It turned out to be a cute hairstyle, middle parting and straightened waves. “Looks better than when I do it.”

Seungmin

“Seungmin!” You sang up the stairs, going to annoy your boyfriend. “Whaaaat?” He responded, not even looking up from his phone. You stood in the door way with a sweet smile on your face. “Can I do your hair?” “Nope.” He laughed bluntly, leaving you pouting. The bed dipped where you sat next to him, taking his phone and switching it off. “But why?” You pouted and laid on him. “Because I said so, baby.” He squished your cheeks in his hand. “But I’ll make it look good. Pleaaaase.” You flashed your pearly whites. “You are relentless. Okay fine.” He rolled his eyes and sat up in bed.

Jeongin

“You..want to do my hair?” “Yes, Jeongin. What is wrong with that?” You asked. “Everything is wrong with that!” He laughed in response and walked past you. “If you love me, you would let me.” You begged and he raised a brow at you with a smile. “Why do you even want to do it?” He shoved food in his mouth mid sentence. “Because it would be fun!” You tried to reason with him. “Alright, but if you burn me with the straighteners then you’re never going near my hair again.” He sat on the floor in front of you as you cheered with happiness.

[justauthoring]

Precious To Us [2]

In other words, you’re Seijoh’s manager.

This chapter, Oikawa’s fangirls.

A/N: Here it is! The second part! I had one person request an idea (thanks @minigranger) and I definitely plan on writing it soon but I love the trope of manager vs. fangirls that I can’t help myself. As usual, please send in ideas :)

Listen, Oikawa’s fangirls are mean.

They just are.

It doesn’t really matter to them that you’re a first year, if they’re supposed to be your seniors, they would probably still be bitches even if you were their seniors and in second/third year.

They seem to think Oikawa’s theirs, even though, of course, he isn’t and if asked, he definitely would deny.

And they see you as a threat.

A big, big threat.

Who gets to see Oikawa everyday? You. Who gets to see him practice every day? You. Who gets a front row to seat to every one of his games? You. And who does he flirt with? You.

It doesn’t matter if you reciprocate the flirting or not -- which of course, you don’t -- they’re jealous and they blame it all on you.

Honestly, the first month of managing is fine. 

Now that you know who Oikawa is and you’re around him more, you do notice the fangirls, but they don’t really bother you and you’re too focused trying to learn the ropes to really care about their constant presence. 

You know you’ve heard some of the other members, namely the third years, complain about them.

About how annoying and distracting they were when it came to practice, or just the mere fact that Oikawa seemed to revel in the attention and love.

You’ve heard them, but you don’t really say anything otherwise because they’ve never done anything to you so you don’t really care either or.

Besides, even if you do think it’s tad bit pathetic, you can’t deny they’re devoted and you guess, in some ways... good for them?

But when you don’t stop being manager, and the rest of the team, namely Oikawa, don’t get sick of you like they all expect them to, and a month passes and you seem to just be thriving, getting a long with everyone, and finally getting the hang of everything?

That’s when they attack.

You’re already late.

And even if you know none of the boys or even the coaches will be upset with you, you do like to be punctual and you absolutely hate being late. So, you’re rushing, practically sprinting through the halls as you try to gather your bearings and organize everything you need to.

You’re already thinking of what drills Oikawa will have the team do, and what you can do to help. Maybe you could bring up some of the notes you’ve made? You’re not a hundred percent on the terms, but Iwaizumi has been helping you, and you’re sure you’ve picked up on a few of the techniques and things you think the boys could improve on.

You didn’t want them to think you’re imposing, but this was the job of the manager wasn’t it? They always reminded you you were more then just a water girl, and that they greatly appreciated anything advice you had for them from an outsider point of view, so maybe--

Landing with a loud thud, a groan leaves your lips as you feel your chin smack against the concrete floor beneath you. It takes you a second to gather your bearings, baffled at how you were suddenly on the ground, and trying to ignore the pain at having bitten your own tongue. But the second you hear laughter, you realized exactly what had happened and your head turns around to stare at the three girls stood above you in bafflement.

They’re laughing at you, quite loudly and obvious mocking you, but your eyes narrow in bafflement when you realize you’re positive you’ve seen them before. You just can’t place your thumb on it. They’re not in your class, one of them doesn’t even seem to be in your year, and you don’t think you’d remember some random face you’d passed in the hall, so--

That’s right. You’ve seen them hanging around Oikawa before, and the one older girl had even snuck into practice one day.

Slowly pushing yourself to your feet, you move to gather your stuff, only for it to be kicked out of your grasp.

“What the--!”

“Listen.”

You blink when the older one, clearly the leader or whatever, is suddenly directly before you, barely a breaths away, glaring down at you.

“You need to quit being manager for Oikawa-san’s volleyball team.”

And your eyes widen, baffled, lips parting as you shake your head; “I don’t--”

“I think you perfectly understand,” the girl behind her sneers, eyes cold.

“We don’t like how close you were with Oikawa-san.”

“And we’re sure Oikawa-san’s sick of seeing your ugly face every day.”

You’re stunned silent. Honestly, you’re not really sure what to say.

“We’ll give you till the end of the week,” the head girl smiles, but it’s a sickly sweet, filling you with dread. “Okay?”

She doesn’t wait for you to respond before her and the other two are walking off, clearly proud of themselves if they way they walk and hold themselves is anything to go by.

It’s takes you five minutes to gather yourself before you start making your way to the gym again for practice.

Part of you wants to just skip and go home but you know the boys would be concerned, more then they probably already are given how late you are, and really, it would just cause more issues in the end anyways.

Besides, you’re never one to skip anyways.

You don’t cry. You’re not really sure why because you definitely want to, but the tears never come and then you’re suddenly in the gym and everyone's rushing towards you in concern, questions leaving their lips rapidly as to why you were so late.

You brush them off, and it almost works, before Iwaizumi takes notice of the dried blood on the corner of your lip that you’d regrettably missed when cleaning yourself up earlier and the scrape underneath your chin.

“What happened to your chin, Y/N? You’re bleeding.”

He steps towards you, but you brush him off.

“I just tripped is all. Bit my tongue.”

You smile and hope it’s enough to convince them, but even if Iwaizumi looks like he wants to argue, Oikawa’s already pulling him back onto the court.

“You’re so clumsy, Y/N-chan! You really do need to be more careful!”

Some of the boys laugh and you do too, forcing yourself to pretend like everything’s fine even though you can physically feel yourself shaking.

But even as he’s being dragged away, Iwaizumi is still eyeing you and you don’t let him grow anymore suspicious then you can tell he is. You send him a soft smile, and then turn, making your way over to the coach to see where you can help for the day.

And it continues on like that for week. 

By the next day, every seems to have forgotten you being late and only Makki makes a teasing comment about the cat themed bandaid on your chin to which you begrudgingly shove him away with a shrill “it’s the only ones we have!” and you seem more like yourself then you had the day before that by the second day, even Iwaizumi has relaxed.

By the end of the week, even he seems to have forgotten about it.

But you haven’t. 

And it being the end of the week has you scared.

Kindaichi seems to notice your weird behaviour in class, especially now that the two of you tend to stick together now that you’re acquainted. But you brush him off every time he asks, saying you just felt ill.

He seems to believe it fine.

Luckily for you, nothing happens.

You’re on edge all day expecting something to happen, but nothing ever does.

Aiko, the third year and clear ring leader of that little group, never approaches you. In fact, you don’t see her once all day, which that in itself isn’t odd since you’re in different years, but you had expected to see her lackies -- either Makoto, a first year like you, or even Nami, a second year.

But you don’t.

By the final bell, you’re relieved.

It was just a mindless threat. It didn’t mean anything clearly, and they had just been poking fun, and honestly you were fine with that -- so long as you didn’t have to deal with them again.

You’d just have to be more wary of the fangirls. Maybe they weren’t as kind as you thought you were, and clearly they thought you posed some kind of threat (even though you definitely didn’t) so you’d just keep it in mind and--

“I’m pretty sure we told you by the end of the week.”

It’s a harsh thud, you don’t fall to the ground like you did last time, but you do thud against the lockers which dig painfully into your back. And regrettably you let a small cry in response, which pales in comparison to the cry of pain that leaves your lips when one of them grab a chunk of your hair and tug, hard.

Pushing at the hands that grab at you, you spin, not surprise to see the same three as before, sneering down at you.

Aiko spits down at you. “Clearly you didn’t listen.”

“I’m not gonna just quit,” you whisper, feigning the confidence to speak up for yourself. Your eyes narrow up at her, even though your heart is racing madly against you chest, and shake your head adamantly. “I love managing the volleyball team, and it’s not even because of Oikawa-senpai! I love being will all the boys, and I won’t let you--!”

“You really are just a slut.”

You’re stunned silent, lips left parted.

“Listen, I gave you a week, you didn’t listen.” Aiko scoffs, shaking her head as she brushes her hair back, glaring down at you. “I’ll show you what happens when I don’t get my way.”

She strikes you hard, across the cheek, and naively, you think that’s it. You can handle some punches and kicks, because you really don’t want to give up the one thing that’s made you happy for the first time in a long time. Even as the hits continue, and your body starts to ache, you think,

I can handle this.

But still, you end up skipping practice that day. You blame it on the fact the fact that you just didn’t want to have to explain why you looked so battered and messed up, knowing this time no amount of lying was going to get you out of this one. Because, really, it wouldn’t just be Iwaizumi suspicious this time -- all the boys will be, and then they’ll probably talk to the coach and...

and, it’s just to much a fuss for you. So, you skip, sending a text to Oikawa explaining that you weren’t feeling well and you’d be back Monday and to please apologize on the coaches behalf for you.

But you don’t go back the next day.

When you open your locker the next Monday, your homework that you’d finished during lunch to previous day to get a head start is ruined. Completely and wholeheartedly ruined.

And when you glance around, the first thing you see is Makoto from across the hallway, smirking at you.

But you don’t have any proof.

So, you suck back the tears that threaten to fall, and sulk to your first class where you know the teacher will be less then pleased.

And of course she isn’t, but she simply sighs and tells you that if you don’t have it in by tomorrow, she’ll have to give you a failing grade. 

Embarrassed and upset, you walk to your seat, ignoring Kindaichi’s watchful gaze as you sink into your seat.

But it only gets worse from there.

The second class starts, a note is tossed onto your desk.

You eye, confused, glancing around for who threw it, only for everyone to be faced forward, before glancing briefly at Kindaichi’s whose watching your curiously.

Slowly, you open it.

Is it true you actually slept with all of the volleyball team?

Laughter echoes, but when you look up, there’s three girls staring at you, all mockingly.

Kindaichi leans forward, trying to grab the note but you pull it from his grasp, avoiding his gaze.

He cannot see that.

And when the class ends, you narrowly avoid Kindaichi who calls for you, rushing out of the class, only for someone to bump into you the second you make it out, shoving harshly into your shoulder.

“Slut.” The voice sneers.

Your lips part, and you glance up, feeling your vision blur, but when you glance around, you suddenly notice the looks everyone’s giving you, and the way they laugh and sneer at you.

But what really makes you break is when you turn, feeling like everyone’s against you, and find Kindaichi staring at you with parted lips, obviously confused, and you just can’t hold it back then, turning without another word, and running off.

The day continues like that, and after lunch, which you spent alone hidden in a bathroom stall, you see Iwaizumi and Oikawa ahead of you, smiling when they notice you.

They look as if they want to talk, but you know then you absolutely cannot like that happen, for multiple reasons, so you turn around quickly, running off in the opposite direction despite the way they call after you.

You don’t go back to practice like you said you would.

And neither do you Tuesday.

When Wednesday rolls around, and every laughs at you when you walk pass them in the halls, or sneers at you, or looks at you like you’re the most disgusting thing, you go to the office when you realize you can’t handle this any longer.

No matter how much you love being on the team and managing the boys. 

Little do you know, in class, Kindaichi notices the odd coloured paper in your hands and curiously, maybe even worriedly (because there’s a sinking feeling in his gut) peers over your shoulder as subtle as he can, lips parting when he reads the header.

Permission to quite a club form.

“I think Y/N’s going to quite the team.”

It’s the first words he says when he enters the club room that day, and it makes everybody pause.

Silence echoes, and slowly, unsurely, Yahaba shakes his head; “what-what are you talking about, Kindaichi? I thought Y/N said she just wasn’t feeling well, which is why--”

“I saw the form this morning,” Kindaichi shakes his head, “I know what I read.”

Oikawa shakes his head. “Y/N would’ve talked to us first if something was upsetting her. She wouldn’t just--”

“Haven’t you guys heard the rumours going around?”

It’s Kunimi who speaks this time, his voice the similar drawl it always is, but if you look at him close enough, it’s easy to tell that he’s concerned. Upset even. And he looks disgusted as he speaks, eyeing Kindaichi first, almost knowingly, before turning to the other boys.

Iwaizumi’s brows furrow; “what are you talk--”

“I think someone’s been bullying her,” Kindaichi frowns. “It started at the beginning of the week. Y/N came in with her homework ruined, which I thought was weird, because she always is so careful with her work and makes sure it’s done early. And then someone tossed this note onto her desk but she wouldn’t let me read it, and she wouldn’t talk to me or even look at me all class. Then, when class was over, people were... well--”

“There’s a rumour going around that’s she’s slept with all of us.”

It’s Kunimi who finishes it, Kindaichi’s face beet red, which quite a few of the boys mimic seconds later when Kunimi finishes.

But Oikawa? Oikawa just looks pissed.

“What?”

Kindaichi blanches, looking absolutely terrified; “I thought you knew! I didn’t--”

Oikawa storms past him, Iwaizumi quick to follow, and then Mattsun and Makki are right behind them. The first and second years glance at each other, before slowly following them, and sure enough the third years are heading straight for the gym, to which none of them are surprised to find you there, a form in your shaky hands as you stare at Coach Mizoguchi.

You turn to them with wide eyes, clearly having hoped to finish before any of the boys started practice. But Mizoguchi looks relieved. “Thank God you boys are here,” he breathes, standing up to which you try to stop him, but he isn’t listening, “Y/N wants to quit, but I really think she should talk to you first,” he’s looking directly at Oikawa, “she won’t tell me why. And please Y/N,” he turns to you, “I think you should reconsider.”

“We’ll talk to her,” Oikawa cuts in, voice oddly low before you can say anything.

Mizoguchi smiles, nodding at you before making his way over the gym obviously in search of Irihata. Instantly the tension thickens when you’re left alone with all eyes directly and solely on you.

It takes a second to find the words. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to any of you about it, but I...” And your voice falters, even you can’t help the way your voice quivers. “I think it’s best if I just quit.”

“You’re not quitting.” It’s Iwaizumi who speaks this time, and his voice is so firm, so sure, even if you’re not sure how to argue against it.

“But I-I--”

“You don’t need to quite,” Oikawa shakes his head, stepping towards you and pulling the form from your grasp with ease. You watch with parted lips as he simply rips it right in front of you, tossing it aside without much care, before glancing back at the rest, namely the other third years, turning back to you. “Now, tell us, who told you you had to quit?”

And your eyes bulge. How did he--

“Kindaichi and Kunimi told us about everything,” Iwaizumi starts, moving towards you, as your eyes fall to the first years, watching the way they both, even Kunimi, stare after you in concern. “We know someone’s been bothering you, so, just tell us.”

“We’ll help you,” Watari adds with a smile, hesitantly speaking up.

And you pause, unsure. But then you stare at them all watching you carefully, and see how all of them care so much, more then you ever thought they did and you’re reminded of why you’d refused to quit in the first place. Reminded of how much you love managing the volleyball team and no matter how much you were scared and hurt, you didn’t want to lose it all.

Lose them.

“It’s... It’s a few, three actually, of Oikawa-senpai’s fangirls,” you mumble, voice low, head turned downwards. “They... They don’t like how much time I spend with him, so they... they told me to quit and when I refused, they...” You don’t need to finish.

There’s a pause, before a slap echoes. 

“Somehow I knew this was your fault, Shittykawa.”

“Ow!” Oikawa cries, “Iwa-chan, it’s not like I...” But he seems to pause, lips parting as he glances down at you, his heart breaking slightly at the tears in your eyes.

Stepping forward, he pulls you into a hug, and you let him; “I’m sorry, Y/N-chan, I didn’t know they were hurting you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It kinda is,” Mattsun comments, stepping forward as he smiles down at you, ruffling your hair. “It’s easier to blame him anyways.”

“I agree,” Makki laughs.

And even you find yourself laughing lightly.

“Really, Y/N-chan? Even you too?”

“Sorry.”

Then, everyone turns serious; “I’ll talk to them,” Oikawa frowns. “What they did isn’t okay. I won’t let them get away with it. They’ll never bother you again, Y/N.”

And you’re surprised by how serious he is.

But things do get better.

Aiko never bothers you again, nor does any other one of Oikawa’s fangirls.

Oikawa even makes her apologize, and even you have to admit the absolute mortification on her face makes everything a lot better.

The boys try to stop the rumour, but it’s easier said then done, though, the fame of it all does dwindle and you’re not snided in the hallways so much anymore.

It’s kind of hard to when you usually have one of the third years walking you to and from class anyways.

Besides, they’re your friends, and even if everyone else hates you, they don’t.

And that’s all that matters to you.

[queenxxxsupreme]

Defender, Protector, Keeper (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

A/N: This is one of those things I write that should have a first part but.... It doesn’t.... I do plan on making more within this little.... world??? With this mom!reader and her son Ben. So sorry for this mess. 

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: violence, nothing out of canon, Micah is mean to children, mute child (is that a warning?) fluff, Arthur being a father figureish thing, soft Arthur, I don’t know what else to tag, blood? it’s all canon to the game

Summary: Arthur steps in to help you with your son after a run in with Micah.

***

“Miss Y/L/N! Miss Y/L/N!”

You moved out of the tent upon hearing Mrs. Grimshaw calling your name. 

“Right here, Mrs. Grimshaw.” 

“There you are. Where is that boy of yours?” She looked around as if trying to peek into the tent. I’ve got a little chore for him and Jack.”

“He was just in here helping me with laundry, but he wouldn’t mind giving you a hand.” You turned to go into the tent. “Ben? Mrs. Grimshaw needs your help.”

Ben, your five-year-old son, put the clothing in his hand down and looked at you. 

“Come on with me, Ben. I’ve already got Jack over by the woods.” Susan gestured for him to follow her.

“What are the boys going to do?” You asked her. 

“Help Lenny and Sean pick some firewood. The little fellas ain’t gonna pick nothin’ but some small kindling. The fellas– Well, Lenny won’t let the boys hurt themselves.”

You fought the urge to volunteer to follow your son. It was just little kindling sticks and twigs. It wasn’t like they were going to chop down entire trees.

Susan, sensing your hesitation, stopped just at the edge of your tent.

“They aren’t going far into the woods at all, Y/N. Charles and Bill are on guard duty and Sean and Lenny are going to be with them. Nothin’s gonna happen to those boys.” She assured you.

You nodded your head, reaching down to run your fingers over Ben’s hair. 

“Go on and help Mrs. Grimshaw, Ben.”

He silently followed alongside her. 

You continued to fold laundry until it was finished. Once that was complete, you decided to go out and see if there was anything else around camp you could help with. 

It seemed to be a rather mellow evening. No one was out doing any jobs nor was anyone talking about any jobs, which was a rarity. In the three months that you had been staying with the Van Der Linde Gang, you had quickly realized their lifestyle was fast paced and there was almost always something to do. 

You made your way over towards the tent the girls in camp stayed in. 

“Hi, Y/N.” Tilly greeted you first. She was reading a book.

“Hey, Y/N!” Mary-Beth was also reading. Karen sat on a chair next to the two singing. “You wanna sit with us for a bit? You’ve been working hard all day.”

“That’s okay, Mary-Beth. I think I should go see if Ben is doing okay with Sean and Lenny.” You looked around towards the woods.

“What’s he doing with those two fools?” Tilly put her book down in her lap. 

“Mrs. Grimshaw had him and Jack helping them with firewood.”

“Last I saw, Lenny and Sean were sitting over by the fire.”

A knot began to form in your stomach. Why hadn’t your son returned to you?

You moved to search for Lenny and Sean, but they proved to be easy to find. They were sitting at a fire with a few other gang members. 

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” You cut off Sean. “Where is Ben at?”

“Hi, Miss Y/L/N.” Lenny gave you a charming smile. “Ben and Jack went over towards John and Abigail’s tent. Jack said they were going to play.”

“Thank you, Mr. Summers.” 

***

You did indeed find your son at John and Abigail’s tent. He sat outside of it with Jack. Jack was talking about some sort of story that Hosea had told him about a bear while your little Benny just kept playing with his half of the deck of cards. 

“Y/N.”

You looked up to Abigail. 

“Hi, Abigail.”

“I hope you don’t mind that Jack brought Ben over. I know Susan had them working earlier.”

“I don’t mind.” You shook your head, smiling. You crossed your arms as you watched Ben. Jack didn’t seem to care that Ben was silent and wasn’t responding to him. Jack had learned since you both arrived at camp that talking wasn’t something Ben did, so he usually did all of the talking for Jack. You were thankful for this. In the beginning, you weren’t sure how young Jack would react to your quiet son. 

“Do you want to sit down and have a cup of coffee with me?” Abigail asked. “I don’t usually get much down time, but neither do you. You’re always running around.”

“Have to keep busy, you know.” You chuckled a little. “Coffee sounds nice.”

The both of you got your drinks and then sat down at a table not too far from the boys. 

“They grow like weeds.” She thought out loud, shaking her head softly. “I’m gonna have to get Jack some new clothes soon. He’s about to be too big for nearly all the pants he’s got. Maybe Ben could fit into what Jack can’t wear. Ben is a little thing. That way you don’t have to go out and waste money. I mean, the clothes aren’t perfect. Jack has needed them patched more than once. But they work.”

“That’s very kind of you, Abigail. Thank you.”

She gave you a smile.

“Momma! Momma!” Jack called as he ran over to Abigail. 

Ben rushed up to you, a smile on his lips. His hair fell into his face and he tried to wipe it out of his eyes but he didn’t do too good of a job.

“Hi, love.” You smiled down at him, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Are you having fun?”

He nodded, looking over to Jack. 

“Momma, can we go give Sean his cards back?”

“Where is Sean at?” Abigail asked, looking around the camp. 

“He’s just on the other side of camp at one of the other fires.” You told her, recalling where you had seen him earlier.  

“If Miss Y/L/N says that Ben can go, then yes. You can. But you have to ask her.”

Ben tugged on your skirt as if to ask you.

“Miss Y/L/N! Can we take Sean his cards?” Jack waved the stack of cards around.

“I don’t see why not.”

“I’ll race you over there!” 

You watched as Jack took off first with Ben just behind him. 

“I’m glad Jack finally has someone to play with and keep him company.” Abigail smiled. 

“They get along so well.” You nodded. “I was a little…. worried at first, if I’m honest.”

“Oh really?”

“Just because…. Well, sometimes it’s hard for Ben.”

Abigail nodded her head understandingly. 

“He’s a sweet boy, Y/N. You raised him well.”

“Thank you-,”

“You dumb little rat! Watch where you’re going next time!”

You stood up upon hearing the sound of shouting. Feeling the urge to find out what had happened, you ventured across camp until you found your son and Micah Bell. Micah had a hold of Ben’s arm and was holding him at an awkward angle. 

“When someone speaks to you, little boy, you’re supposed to answer them!”

“Micah!” You raised your voice. 

Micah turned his head to look at you but didn’t let your son’s arm go. 

Anger bubbled in your veins. 

“Ah, the whore. Maybe someone better teach this boy manners before he ends up worse than his ma.”

You pushed against Micah’s chest. Ben was crying at this point, trying to grab onto your skirt anywhere he could but Micah was finding amusement in pulling the boy away from you. 

“Micah! Get your hands off of that boy!” Abigail shouted. 

The next few moments happened all too quickly for you to know what exactly happened. But Micah released Ben and he fell backwards to the ground. Your hand flew up to smack him and you landed a nice hit on his cheek, but he was quicker than you and far more skilled in fighting so the backhand to your cheek came out of seemingly nowhere. 

You took a few steps back to keep from falling flat on your ass. You ended up hitting something solid. A hand found your side and another your arm. 

It was Arthur Morgan. He only took a couple seconds to make sure you were steady on your feet before moving around you to deliver two punches to Micah. The nasty man fell back as blood began to pour out of his nose. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Abigail rushed to one side of you and Mary-Beth came to the other. 

You didn’t answer them. You only pushed them away to get to your son. 

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he sat in the dirt where he had fallen. 

There was a hand on your wrist that stopped you just before you could get to him. 

Arthur turned you back around to face him. You pulled against him, wanting desperately to get to your son.

“You’ve got blood on ya, pumpkin.” He murmured quietly, using his thumb to wipe away the little bit of blood from your busted lip. “He don’t need to see that.”

“Th-Thank you.” You whispered. 

“Can I pick him up? Move him somewhere else for you?”

You nodded. 

Arthur let you go and moved towards Ben. 

“Come here, Benny. You alright?”

Ben nodded his head, shyly tucking his face into Arthur’s neck.

Arthur took him to a table and sat him down on it, then pulled out a chair for you. But you couldn’t sit down just yet. You had to make sure he was okay. 

Your hands cupped his face and tilted his head up so you could check him over for any marks. 

“Are you okay, love? Does anything hurt?”

He held up his hands to you, showing that his palms were scraped up and bleeding a little. He sniffled, his bottom lip quivering. 

“I’ll get somethin’ to clean those up, Y/N.” Mary-Beth spoke, moving towards Strauss’s wagon.

Upon seeing the scratches and bleeding scrapes from Ben falling back and catching himself on his hands, anger welled up inside of Arthur. 

He turned and started to make his way towards Micah. 

“Arthur! Arthur Morgan!” Abigail called after him, but she couldn’t stop him herself. “John! Mr. Smith! Please!”

You couldn’t pay attention to what was happening with Arthur right now. Ben was important and took priority. 

You brushed his hair back and sat down in front of him. 

“I’m so sorry you got hurt, love.” You leaned forward to kiss his cheek. 

He wrapped his arms around your neck, careful not to touch you with his injured hands, and then slid down into your lap. 

A few moments later, Mary-Beth returned with a bowl of water and a few rags. Tilly was with her too, helping to carry bandages. 

“Are you alright, Benji?” Tilly asked. He nodded his head without lifting it from your chest. “He didn’t get too hurt by that nasty Micah, did he?”

“Think it just spooked him more than anything.” You answered her. “Thank you, girls.”

The items were placed on the table and then they left. 

“Ben, I need you to sit on the table so I can reach you, love.”

He shook his head. 

“We’ve got to get these scratches cleaned up, okay? We don’t want them to get yucky.”

A hand found your shoulder. You looked to see Arthur moving around your chair. 

“Lemme give ya some help. That way Benny can stay on your lap where he’s comfortable.”

You nodded your head, giving him a little smile as a thank you. 

“Hey, Benny? Can I see your hands?”

Benny shifted around on your lap so that he could easily face Arthur. He gave Arthur one hand. 

“This might sting just a bit, but I promise it’ll be over soon.” 

Arthur got a rag wet and began to clean the dirt and little bit of blood from Ben’s small palm. 

“You’re a strong fella, Benny. You know that?”

Ben sniffled. 

“I heard you helped Sean and Lenny with getting firewood. Did you carry all the big logs by yourself?”

A little grin tugged at your son’s lips. He shook his head. 

Once he was cleaned up and Arthur had carefully wrapped up his hands, Ben looked around for Jack. He was with Hosea. The two weren’t very far away at all. Ben shimmied down from your lap but stayed by you. His eyes were focused on Jack. He wanted to go play with his friend. 

“You can go on, love.” You told him. He flashed you a little toothy smile before taking off in the direction of Hosea and Jack. 

Arthur stayed on his knees beside you for a few moments, watching Ben go. He let out a breath through his nose and shook his head. 

“That bastard is lucky I don’t put a bullet in him.” He rose to his feet, shaking his head. 

“Ben is okay, Arthur.” You turned your head to look at him. “He just…. He was just shaken up a bit. But he’s okay.”

“He hit you too. No man should ever treat a lady like that.” 

You admired his words, the way he viewed things. 

A little smile came to your lips and you watched him sit down next to you. 

“Well, Mr. Morgan. Not everyone has the same ideals as you.”

Arthur shook his head, fingers curling into a fist. He was still worked up over the situation. 

“It’ll be okay, Arthur.” You reached over to place your hand on his. “I can take a hit just fine. But I do appreciate you stepping in. It was really kind of you to help clean up Ben.”

He became a bit sheepish at your words, tipping his head down so you couldn’t see his eyes completely thanks to the brim of his hat. He cleared his throat. 

“Just-Just hate seein’ the little guy cry is all.”

You smiled a bit and gave his hand a squeeze before moving away from the table he sat at. 

Arthur watched you leave, then turned his head to watch the two youngest members of the gang with Hosea. Hosea was telling a story while Jack and Ben listened. 

Arthur turned his head back to see where you had gone off to. You were standing with Abigail near Pearson’s tent. Abigail said something that caused you to look at Arthur, a smile pulling at your lips then you looked back at her, shaking your head and bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. It was a poor attempt to hide a giggle. 

Arthur fixed the hat on his head and decided to go towards his horse. 

“When are you gonna tell her?” Charles spoke from his horse. He was messing with a strap of Taima’s saddle. 

“Tell her what?”

Charles rolled his eyes and shook his head. 

“I’m not oblivious to it, Arthur. I don’t think any of us in camp are.”

“To what?”

“That you fancy her.”

Arthur mounted his horse, shifting around in the saddle a bit.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Mr. Smith.” He adjusted his hat. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you don’t.”

“You wanna come with me? Or keep standing there goin’ on about it?”

Taglist: @winterwolf @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @krenee1drful @zodiacaldust @nonodino @cal-lifornication @thefirelordm @sargeantsea @sokkasdarling @thecollection @mayday1284 @kashasenpai @misskrql @brooke-supernatural16 @lassiee @hocdolliday @micahs-bird 

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[t-lostinworlds]

Twenty-Five (Tom Holland)

a/n: well, i haven’t posted a fic in a while and i’m scared asdfghjkl. anyhow, this was a last minute idea, a.k.a was written fairly quick so bare with me for it may be shit lol. hope you guys enjoy! oh, and happy birthday to this handsome man in a turtleneck!

pairing: tom holland x female!reader trope/genre: none summary: Tom unwraps his last gift for his birthday, from you. warnings: implied smut (18+), nothing detailed, will include a glimpse of dom!tom at the end. word count: 1.6k+ (short but sweet spicy)

masterlist in bio

-:-:-:-:-

It's been ten minutes since you arrived back home from Tom's birthday dinner, a simple yet eventful night with friends and family. It was a given that the birthday boy was probably tired from all the fun and rowdy activities, add that to the fact that he'd been entertaining his guests the whole evening. But, with one last gift, it was also a given that your night was far from over.

You were nervous, there was no denying that. This was the first time you'd ever bought something like this, much less, show it to someone else. Despite being together for almost two years now, you hadn't really dabbled much into showing Tom a much more alluring type of clothing. But since it was a special occasion, you found no harm in giving your man a little surprise, a gift, as you might say. So of course you were nervous since this was going to be the first time that Tom will see you in something so...lacy, dainty, and well, sexy.

After checking yourself countless times in the mirror to make sure everything was right—with a few pep talks thrown in as well—you tied up your short, red, silk robe before finally coming out of the bathroom.

You found Tom sitting on your shared bed, still sporting his outfit of the night which was his tight, black turtleneck, biceps practically begging to be free with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. It was paired with his striped pants, one that was making his thighs look even more ravishing, inviting. He was looking handsome as always. His eyes were glued to his phone, fingers typing away, probably responding to more of his endless sea of greetings.

You silently made your way in front of the bed, fingers toying with the hem of your robe from the jitters. Taking in a few steady breaths, you tilted your head and said,

"Tom, go on and unwrap your last present for tonight."

"Huh? What present—oh," Tom cut himself off, eyebrows rising once his gaze landed on you. He hurriedly put his phone away, even doing as much as putting it inside his drawer, and you could only assume he turned Do Not Disturb on as well, the eagerness written all over his face. His smirk grew wide as he stood up from his place, walking over to you with his brown orbs gradually turning a shade darker. His hands found themselves on your waist once he was in close enough proximity, squeezing it tenderly. "Is my present under that robe?" he asked, voice falling down an octave.

"Maybe," you said with a shrugged, a feign innocent smile playing on your lips.

Tom shook his head. "I think I might need to sit down for this," he chuckled deeply, settling himself on the foot of the bed, spreading his legs wide so you could stand in between.

He kept his eyes locked with yours as he twirled the tie of your robe around his fingers, smirk only growing wider once he saw you swallow the lump in your throat. With how close you were, he could probably hear how your heart was beating so loud. Tom always found pride whenever he earned any reaction from you by doing absolutely nothing yet. It was very smug of him, but Tom being confident and in control will never fail to be so damn attractive, who were you to complain?

Agonizingly slow, he undid the ribbon, eyes never leaving yours even until the fabric had loosened around your body. Then, Tom reached up, fingers slipping underneath the silk, touch unhurried as he gently pushed it off your shoulders. The smooth material slipped down your body with ease and pooled at your feet, Tom still holding your gaze but only for a moment. With a deep breath, his orbs flickered down, features befalling with awe, his jaw dropping as he cursed,

"Fuck."

It was a simple, red, 3-piece, lingerie set. The garter and lace detailing covered so little but enough to still leave something for the imagination. It was hugging your body in all the right places, accentuating your shape in the most flattering of ways. The set was practically see-through yet the fabric was still cut out in certain areas to show even more skin. There was a ribbon right on top of each bra strap and then a matching one right in the middle of the hem of your panties.

"Absolutely stunning, you are," Tom marveled, almost like a gasp, hands wandering from your shoulders, down your arms, curling around your waist before proceeding down your thighs. His touch was laced with utter worship and praise. Add that to the way he was gazing you up, your nerves were quick to be replaced with confidence. You giggled softly, cheeks flushed as Tom did nothing else but caress your flawed skin amorously, making sure that there was nothing left untouched. His eyes were roaming just the same as if he was being extra sure that he wasn't missing a single detail, both on your perfect imperfections and the lace alike.

"You like it?" you asked.

Tom scoffed, shaking his head as he looked up at you with much adoration. "Like is a massive understatement." Squeezing your waist, Tom let you go as he leaned back on his arms, now all sprawled out with a wide smirk. "Step back a little, darling, I want to see all of you," he drawled. And you did, walking back a few steps so he could get the full scope. Tom shook his head with a low groan, "Fucking gorgeous."

"Now, give me a spin."

You laughed timidly but did so anyway, nothing but hums of satisfaction and appreciation coming out of your man as you did a full 360. Once you were facing him again, you found him with his head tilted far to the side, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his eyes stayed down to which you assumed was ogling at your backside. Your assumption was swiftly proven right when Tom threw in another request.

"Turn to the side a little, sweetheart," he asked, not at all trying to be discreet as to where his eyes were glued. With the confidence brewing in you, you posed for him sideways, chin on your shoulder as you flashed him a charming smile. Tom bit back a groan, admiring you from head to toe, shaking his head and blowing out his cheeks once he did so. After a few moments, he met your gaze again with nothing but a proud and satisfied look on his face. "Difficult decision," he pondered, a soft hum with his voice all deep.

"What?" you giggled.

"I can't decide if I should rip it off of you immediately," Tom paused, tilting his head at you with a knowing grin as he continued with a guttural tone, "Or fuck you while it's still on."

You bit your bottom lip to suppress a whimper, thighs instinctively pressing together which only earned a low chuckle from you man. Yet with your newfound confidence, you took a breath, a soft sigh as you ran your hands slowly, teasingly over the lace repeatedly. Tom's eyes followed your fingers, brown orbs coated with much hunger and lust.

"Well, don't rip it yet. It's new," you hummed, pouting at him sweetly before you shrugged. Toying with the garter of your panties, you added, "Then again, you are the birthday boy, you can have your way however you may please."

Tom's eyes snapped back up to meet yours. There was a flicker in his orbs, like a switch, and that was when you knew he caught on that your words meant more than just the lingerie.

"The latter then," he concluded, sitting up straight before his hands patted his lap, beckoning you closer. "Come here."

You walked over to him slowly, making sure to sway your hips sensually, which made Tom shake his head at you with a low groan. Once you stood right in between his legs, you lifted a hand to grab his shoulder for support, ready to straddle his lap. That until he caught your wrist midway into the air.

Tom shook his head no, tutting with a menacing smirk. He brought your wrist to his lips, giving it sweet, chaste kisses before he slowly guided you to where exactly he wanted you. You felt your insides churn when he simply said, "On your stomach, my love."

With a sharp breath, you did as told, situating yourself on your stomach, your body sprawled right across his thick thighs. You shivered once Tom ran his fingers down your spine before tracing the fabric that hugged your body so delicately that it may have seemed like he wasn't even touching it at all. He was silent, merely admiring, and dare you say it, enjoying his view. If the certain hardness that was poking your stomach wasn't a dead giveaway, then the way he was breathing heavily, would. Yet once he spoke again, you felt your whole body fire up, every inch of your skin tingling with utter fervor and excitement.

"How old am I again, darling?"

You gulped. It was rhetorical, but an unanswered question could only do more harm than good for you.

"Twenty-five."

Tom only hummed in response. There was no use for words anyway when you felt his warm palm smooth over the supple flesh of your ass that was exactly in his line of sight, exposed for his and his sight only. Yet in contrast, the cold metal of his Rolex on your skin emitted another shiver from you, a shaky breath escaping your lips soon after.

Tom chuckled proudly at your reaction, a few seconds of silence floating over you both before a sudden, sharp smack rang in the air.

Your body jolted in utter surprise. The stinging sensation immediately covered your cheek at the harsh impact, starting from where Tom's hand once was before the heat spread to your very core as you breathlessly moaned,

"One."

-:-:-:-:-

thank you for reading love! like, reblog if you enjoyed and lemme know your thoughts! x

[spikesbimbo]

Silver spoon

Pairing: ukai Ikkei x f!reader

Tags: made this a Mafia au just so he would have a reason to have a gun, nurse!reader, actual age agp, gilf, gun play, gun fucking (?), idk giving his gun sum sloppy toppy, oral sex, creampie

Summary: how to be a beneficiary 

wc: 3.5k

@keishinslove , come get ur mans, ; ), @fawn-daydreams thanks so much for the pic! @dreamsandabyss

18 + Minors dni

“Look, someone has to have it...” he spoke into the phone, leaning back as you did with him. The feeling of his warm body against yours putting you to sleep, resting your head on his chest as you curled up into him. 

His smirk widened as he ran his hand down your sides, enjoying your company as you grew more comfortable in his lap, the feeling of cold hard metal touching your skin as you adjusted yourself on his legs, seeing it peek from below his waistband, handle hanging out of his belt reminded you of what he was, breaking you out of your daydream.

Looking up at him as your hands rested on his chest and neck, pulling away from his stroking his scuff and fingers untangling themselves from his golden chain. Getting off his thighs seeing as this call was going to last long, legs growing numb, jestering with your hands that you were going to the kitchen, responding with a subtle nod as he watched you leave.

Hearing his voice get sterner, sending chills down your spine as his tone changed completely. “Send guards up there to get him…. and hold him until they arrive.” Seeing that he got confirmation, as his head tilted back, a sigh escaping lips as he rubbed his eyes. Eyebrows furrowing, not knowing if you should have left him there alone, just putting it in the back of your head that you left some time for him to cool down.

Walking down the staircase headed towards the kitchen, almost still getting lost in this villa as you remember him telling the first time you came here ‘it was down the staircase and to the left’. Stopping to look at the big picture of him hung up on the wall followed by many others, looking like a victorian portrait encased in the glass frames made you realize how big of a name they really were, generations following you down the hall as you continued moving down the steps.

Finally seeing the walls of windows and the bar you felt relieved, walking up to the fridge and opening it, seeing every drink but water. Grabbing some type of lemonade as you leaned against the marble counter while you took a sip, tasting the unknown alcohol in it as it hit the back of your throat, quickly coughing while smacking your chest a few times to calm it down. Tears filling your eyes as you shakily set the glass down.

“Sorry about that. Should've probably just drank it all yesterday.” 

You turned your blurry eyes to see his grandson, an almost spitting image of him when he was younger, noticing him handing you some water that you wanted in the first place.

“What a surprise...” you choked out, lifting the bottle to your mouth, throat finally feeling some ease.

The two of you had an almost sibling-like relationship, starting from the moment he met you after you patched his friend up in an alleyway, not even questing or caring why, moving on with your day like nothing happened.

Guessing you were on your way home from work, seeing you in scrubs, and after running into you again he swore it was fate. Persuading you to join them as you easily said yes, knowing you wouldn't say no the salary and the ‘benefits’ that came along with it, just wanting to finally relax with your student loans paid off.

But the last thing he would've expected after all of this, was you, with his grandad. Essentially getting yourself stuck in this kind of life, knowing that you'd never be able to leave as soon as they found out you were 'with’ him. But you obviously had a smart head on you, letting you do whatever your heart wanted as he supported you. Grabbing another drink from the bar, this time knowing it was alcohol as you two joked around for a minute.

A smile appearing on your face when you heard steps walking towards you, seeing ikkei appear from the corner of the hallway as keishin turned his head and guessed right, looking at you already skip over to him like a puppy following its owner.

Greeting you while he let you cling onto him, arms wrapped around his as he lifted his hand saying hello to his grandson. All his attention on your pretty little smile as his thumb traced your cheek, bringing up your hand to his lips, placing his lips on it gently as you were acting like you've never been touched before, giggling shyly into his arm as he chuckled out.

Keishin gagging at the sight before him, “Why don't you just retire already,” not wanting to see this cringy shit anymore, but deep down just wanting him to be safe and content, never seeing him smile this hard in his life. Knowing he's never felt this way before, his ex wife being set up by an arranged marriage, she wasn't bad but he definitely didn't love her along with her complaining, but luckily a quick swipe of his card shut her up, finally divorcing after all theses years.

“My dad isn't still too young to take over, you know?”  

“No.” he stated, stepping outside to light his cigar, resting his back against the wall as he took a puff. “Great men are taught, not born.” He uttered out, choking on the smoke as he brought it back up to his lips. He was dependable, not regretting having his son at a young age, but swearing to never push this life on his son and grandson until he was gone.

“Yeah, he's stubborn.” keishin uttered under his breath, running his hands through his hair as he grabbed his drink and keys, walking towards the door while waving a quick goodbye to you.

“How the hell is someone younger than me gonna be my step grandma, can’t get someone your own age to date you?” he chuckled out in awe. But at the end of the day he was on your side, family was family, defending you like your own personal bodyguard. Hearing something along the lines of “She’s some old man’s sugar baby.” almost daily until he ‘took care of it’ a few months ago.

“You're just mad, that an old man like me gets more than you.” ikkei laughed, coughing out the rest of the smoke while coming up behind you. Wrapping his arm around your waist already pulling you back to his office as you gladly let him.

“Ok, shitty old man.” keshin replied, closing the door behind him. He knew it wasn't because of the money or the power, because there were many other men on his level trying to win your attention. Thinking there must be something going on in your head to be with him, and there was.

Love.

The first man to ever make you feel some type of way, to make you blush. Was it practical, no. Putting it to the back of your head that he would be long gone by the time you were even close to his age.

But the way he made you feel so light and free around him after only being here for a while. Looking into your eyes as you fixed him up, making you genuinely laugh as he didn't want you to stress over him, surprising him that you were just naturally calm.

You two fell for each other quickly, not even lasting a week before you two fucked. Hearts appearing in your eyes around him; not caring about having your own family, just becoming part of his as he always kept his promises. 

“You wanna go out later.” he said loosely wrapping his hand around your waist, pulling you back into his lap. “m’sorry i haven't had time for you lately.” Looking up at his gray hair, eyes moving down to his body still this toned after all these years, aging like the finest wine.

“No.” you mumbled out, fingers running down his chest, getting caught up in his chain again. “Just wanna…..stay with you.” A shy smirk appearing on your face as the words left your lips.

Leaning into your shoulder, lips touching your neck as he whispered into your ear, scruff tickling your jaw as you let out a slight smile.“Stay with me, hmm? And what does that entail...?” 

Already getting off his thighs, standing in front of him as you ran your hands up your body, his joining you as he wrapped them around your waist pulling you closer to him, chin resting on your stomach while his hands gently rested on your hips. “No one has ever managed to capture my attention like you have.” he said, hands lingering on you.

He had no shame in admitting it, his words plaguing your head, “I always tell the truth, no matter how hard it is.” Looking up to your flustered face, no one could ever make you feel as loved and appreciated as him.

“Ok old man.” you giggled out, taking your time stripping in front of him. Resting your hand on his shoulder for support as you slowly slid your skirt down, hugging your ass just right as you felt his soft, intense gaze never once leaving you. Eyeing you up as you fumbled with your buttons, hands meeting yours taking it off for you, being bare as the day you were born.

“You getting on your knees pretty girl?”

Nodding while letting out a quiet, shy “yeah” at the words that left his mouth. Lowering yourself onto the ground, trying to replace your timidness that only came around him. Hands resting on his knees working their way up his thighs, his stress already disappearing as your fingers played with his zipper, eyes locking with yours as you pulled it down.

The nervousness leaving you as his warm hand rested on your cheek, whimpering in need as your gaze fell on the hard cold metal that was standing before his cock. Resting on his abdomen, cunt growing wetter at the thought of the previous events, wanting it in your mouth, fucked down your throat.

Reading your mind, already loosening his pants enough to set it free. Pointer finger resting on the side as he parted your lips, immediately giving way. Tongue sticking out lewdly, spit and drool already falling off the tip of it, his other hand angling it down toward your mouth. “You trust me, don’t you Baby?”

Moaning out another muffled “yeah” at the weight of the barrel resting on your tongue, pushing it deeper down your mouth, the whines getting caught at the back of your throat. Body growing tingly, cunt leaking onto the floor as he gently bobbed your head head back and forth until you got the hang of it.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck... your sweet little mouth taking it all.” Whimpering at his words, eyes fluttering open at him, meeting his gaze as your vision grew blurry. Hands reaching for his cock, working there way up his thighs until you felt his bulge, groaning at the touch. Wanting to make him feel as good as you.

Letting your spit make a mess on his fingers as he slowly pushed the glock farther down until you choked on the muzzle. Pulling it out at the lewd sound of your wet gasp, catching your breath, looking at your lashes still wet, lips covered in drool. Dragging the spit covered barrel down, sliding between your tits pressing it against your nipples, shivering at the cold feeling. 

“You gonna let me fuck your throat, sweetheart?”

Nodding quickly, letting out a strained “mhmm” as you moved your fingers around the base of his cock. Adjusting himself as he stroked it a few times before letting you take control. A moan leaving his mouth as you tilted your head to kiss his tip, parting your lips without his help as you flicked your tongue against it, your shiny lips making a mess already.

“Fuck angel, such a good girl. Open up that little mouth more for me sweetheart.” His hand came behind your neck, the firm grip leaving your mouth open as he pulled himself out, admiring the sight below him as the praise made you listen to his silent command. Soft wet smacks from him slapping the head of his cock against your tongue, looking so lewd, like the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life.

“… goddamn baby. Fuck…”

His scratchy voice letting out another moan as he leaned back onto the headrest of the couch. Your trembling hands gripping onto his thighs, nails leaving imprints as he continued to abuse your throat. The office was quiet besides the filthy wet sounds of you choking around him.

Opening your lids and gazing up at him, pupils so wide and eyes so red. Looking the prettiest you could, so needy and compliant, letting him use your throat as he pleased. “That’s it, angel… oh, fuck…m’gonna-”

Tears freely down your cheeks as you gagged, little strings of saliva dripping from your chin, body on fire as his thrusts got rougher, fucking up into your mouth as his hands gripped tighter around your neck holding you in place.

Sealing your lips around him, sucking in more as his hips stalled, grabbing your head with both of his hands. And with a long groan, music to your ears, shoving your face all the way down into his crotch, balls resting on your chin as you felt him release in your mouth, so hot and thick. Doing as you were told, always wanting to be his good girl, someone he could always rely on, someone he could always use when needed.

“You okay?” He asked, stroking your cheek as dizzily shook your head up and down. Reaching his hand forward, tipping your jaw upward to see you better. Cunt throbbing as his eyes met yours, clenching and releasing around nothing while he dragged his thumb across your swollen lips. 

“Words, sweetheart.” His voice was soft and stern, ordering you around gently as you did you best to choke it out.

“y-yes”

“Let me see.” Parting your lips, with his ring covered finger, mouth opening to show him that his cum was still there. Smiling as he let go, muttering out “good girl.”, mouth closing as he let you swallow, the salty taste making you wince under your breath while he pet the side of your face down to your neck. 

“You sure angel? ….You know i don't like lying.” he said, resting his hand on your cunt, fingers dipping in shallowly as you almost went limp in his hold, Knees locking just in time, so focused on keeping your composure that you didn't see him smirking at your state. His finger curling inside you, as you tried to hold back your whimper, body unconsciously rocking back and forth into his hand.

Finally snapping, trying to be on your best behavior best you couldn't help it anymore, knowing what he was doing to you. “Please,” you whined out. “Want you to fuck me like you always do, want you to fuck me so good.” No shame left in your body as you started taking action, nails clawing into his bicep, your eyes half lidded trying to hold back the tears forming.

Letting out a whine muttered by your teeth sinking into your lips when his hand pulls away, lingering there not for long as he easily hikes your leg up over his waist, aligning his cock to your dripping cunt, rubbing it over your folds, teasing you, wanting to make his sweet angel beg. 

“i-ikkei, please” you lead, gripping his arms, as pushed into you slowly. Cooing at you for being so patient with him. Head dropping onto his shoulder as a broken noise escaped your lips, legs tightening around his waist, clenching around him.

Pushing the rest of himself inside you, hissing as you swallow him up in your warmth. “Fuck sweetheart, you always… feel so, -fuck, so goddamn good,”

“Relax baby,” he groaned out, head thrown back. “Little cunt’s so tight, gonna get my will instead of my kids if you keep it up.” Your smile barely forming before it gets cut off, moaning at the painful feeling of his cock stretching you out.

“Such a... fuck, such a good little girl for me,” He praises, hot breath on your neck as you clench even tighter at his words, the feeling of bhim so deep inside of you, nudging your cervix making your head spin. “So pretty,  I'd do anything for you, you know that?”

“m’close.” you whimpered. His love confessions making you lose your mind completely, nails digging into his chest, slightly groaning at the sting.. “Please, p-please please,” you begged through a sob, tears swelling up in your eyes. Placing his lips on yours before you can gasp out begs anymore. Trying to whimper out his name before he fucks you roughly with a thrust that hits your g spot, making you cum all over him, sticky wetness enclosing the both of you as it dripped down his balls and onto the sofa. 

“There you go baby,” he muttered against your lips, but you’re too far gone to even pay attention. Working his cock inside of you, gently pushing up into your cunt as your shaking body twitches in his hold, eyes rolling to the back of your head from your orgasm, still trying to come down from your high. “You know I always got you.”

He pulls out of you slowly when you have calmed down but you weren’t done. “w-wanna make you cum.” your croaky voice pouted out.

“Hm? You already did sweetheart.” Shaky legs positioning yourself on top of him, resting your hands on his shoulders. “no...want you to cum in me.”

Watching as you spread open you cunt, placing his tip on your entrance. Looking down at him with a heavy lust in your eyes, not wasting any time sliding back into you. “You’re so greedy.” He says into your ear, a roughness to his voice. Back arching as his arm wraps around your waist, leaning back to give him a view of himself bottoming out in you. The feeling of the fullness already has you cumming again. “...So fucking perfect.” 

Rubbing your clit with his fingers as his lips attached to your nipple, locking you in his hold, your body trembling from the overstimulation. Cock repeatedly ramming into your g spot as your cunt is being lovingly abused. “Fuck” He mutters out, words getting trapped into your skin, fingers pinching your swollen clit, letting out a loud sob as tears break free. 

“Fuck baby, I’m close.” He said, breath growing sporadic as his hips start stuttering. Chasing after his high, fingers slapping your clit as you squealed.

“C-, cum in me, please. You gotta, p-please!” You cry out, pushing him over the edge. Breaking free of your tits, mouth letting out deep groans as he is spilling his load into you, coming for the third around him. Body freezing up, seeing black and stars, walls clamping around him even tighter, wanting to milk him dry for everything he's got. 

Not even realizing that he's holding you into him, balls resting on you cunt as he's still inside of you, knowing you'd throw a fit if he pulled out. Body slump and tired as he presses a light kiss on the top of your head, large hands soothing your body as they worked their way up and down your back.

“I-, I love you,” you choked out, resting your head into his shoulder. His heart softening as he kissed your lips softly, sighing as he leaned back with you in his arms. Gently humming to ease you into sleep, not caring how he was gonna take care of this later. ”I love you too, baby.” He whispered into your ear, looking around his office full of money and countless items worth millions, but none made his heart race like you could, not even close.

“...I love you, more than you'll ever know.” 

[fandom-monium]

Kinky but Not Really

Summary: In which you make an odd request, and Spencer tries to fulfill it. “I don’t want to disrespect you...”

WC: 1.8k

TW: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader, fluff, cussing, established relationships (blegh), light use of sexual themes including light degradation, light violence, and the slamming into walls (nothing explicitly sexual or nsfw bc im a wimp), specifically post-prison Reid, ft. Garvez and Rossi

Spencer loves you. He’s never doubted that for a second.

Your laugh as you throw your head back. Your eyes, the way they crinkle when you grin too wide. Even your style, whether you’re in joggers or suits, just does something to him he can't quite explain. Really, he loves you. 

Even if you’re weird.

Spencer knew what he was getting into, okay? He didn’t consider it earlier in your friendship, but as time went on and you two grew more comfortable around each other it became apparent that he wasn’t the only… outlier in the team. By the time you officially got together, he was already used to it.

But somehow you still manage to surprise him.

“You want me to what?” 

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” You wince as Spencer coughs. With his sleeve, he wipes the coffee dribbling down his chin, staring at you as if someone hit you over the head. It has to be the only viable explanation, considering what you’ve just asked him. “But hear me out.”

Spencer sits up and sets his mug on the coffee table. “Wh...what? Why? No-what? When?”

You wring your hands together, shifting your weight foot to foot as he squints at you. “Okay. When: um, some time after you came back from prison? I think? Why, I’m not sure. That’s why I’m asking you.” 

“I don’t know, (Your Name),” Spencer rolls his lips together, anything and everything that could possibly go wrong racing through his mind. 

“Nothing extreme! I don’t expect you to slap me across the face⏤”

“Oh my god⏤”

“Just small things! Start off light,” You think for a moment. “Like shoving me around or smacking me. Calling me names.”

“I hear where you’re coming from, but I don’t want to…” He flushes, his voice hushed like what he's about to say is forbidden, “disrespect you.”

You take his hands in yours with a bright smile, “Hon, I love you, but please. I’m the one asking you to get violent with me.”

“What the-when did you up your demands?”

You continue, “Like, if you think about it, you’d be doing me a favor. Respecting my wishes by ‘disrespecting’ me. So, what do you think?” You watch him carefully, legs tucked under you, a hopeful sparkle in your eyes. He can almost see the dog tail wagging behind you.

How can he say no?

"Alright, if that's what you really want," Spencer sighs, smiling as you break out into a grin. He laughs when you tackle him into the couch, thanking him repeatedly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll try. But starting tomorrow.”

“That’s fine!” You sit up, smiling down at him. Your lips wiggle as you try to suppress your anticipation. “No pressure, just do what you feel comfortable with and we’ll see from there?”

Spencer bites his lip and nods. “Sure.”

⏤

The men of the BAU are distinct; you can tell just by looking at them.

David Rossi, though the eldest, the senior, is suave and has a level of sophistication that could only come with age. It’s in his blazers, his stride, the warm yet knowing eyes. A reassurance that eases the people around him.

Matt Simmons rocks the young dad vibes, with the smooth-shaven face and simple clothing. Not to mention a smile that makes him good with both children and adults alike.

Then there’s Luke.

“You!”

Luke nearly falls out of his chair as Garcia stomps over, sitting up in attention as the click of her pumps grow nearer. “What? What happened?”

“You! You happened,” Garcia hisses, looming over him while Rossi comes up from behind. 

“Penelope, we don’t know for sure⏤”

“Who else could possibly do this? Matt and you could never. Only this troll could have done this,” She whips back on Luke, her eyes⏤usually bright with mischief⏤burning and accusatory. “Fix it!”

And just to tick her off, because that’s the purpose of their relationship: “No.” 

She sputters, fuming pink as her lipstick. And as Luke revels in the oncoming eruption, sneering at Garcia, Rossi⏤that wise geezer⏤squints at him.

“You don’t know what we’re talking about, do you?”

“... Not a clue.”

Maybe I should've retired. Rossi sighs, “Spencer and (Your Name) have been off today, and we think they’re having a fight.”

“And you think I have something to do with that?” Luke's face pinches in offense.

“You didn't see them today, have you?" 

"No?"

Garcia, shaking off her fury, is more than ready to spill the tea. "Kay, so this morning on the way up, I saw Spencer and (Your Name) waiting for the elevator and Spencer just snatched their coffee. And he didn’t even bother to let them into the elevator first.”

Luke frowns, “I mean, it's a bit ungentlemanly but I don’t think that means they’re fighting.”

(Had she shared the lift, she would have seen how apologetic Spencer was, nearly bursting into tears as he hands you the cup of coffee, throwing you whatever cash he has.)

“And during lunch I caught them down the hall by the break room,” Rossi recounts, wincing at the image, “They were talking in hushed tones, then Spencer shoved passed (Your Name) and stalked off.”

(If he’d check on you, he might have caught the proud gleam in your eyes, grinning wide at Spencer’s attempt at getting rough with you.)

“And you still think I’m involved?” Luke raises an eyebrow at Garcia.

She’s completely unapologetic as she scoffs, “Listen, I don’t know how Spencer can stand being friends with you, but clearly you influenced him in some way because before he met you, he was my sweet summer child. Now…” She withholds a sob, Rossi sympathetically patting her shoulder. “You’ve tainted him!”

“I… I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“Then don’t,” Garcia sniffs, drying away tears. “Just bring our Spencer back!”

“Bring me back from what?”

They jump in unison, turning to find Spencer has returned from his break and is now back at his desk. He eyes them curiously as they fumble for an explanation.

“Hey, Doc,” Luke, deciding to end all this turmoil, asks, “Are you and (Your Name) having uh... lovers quarrel?” 

“A what?”

Garcia shoots him a look, “A ‘lovers quarrel’? Really?”

“Well, I doubt they’re fighting, and honestly a lovers quarrel sounds much less intense than⏤you know⏤fighting.”

“No, we are not fighting. Why would you think⏤oh, you saw...” Spencer’s face falls, melting into embarrassment. 

"Saw? Son, we witnessed," Rossi huffs as he crosses his arms and stares down Spencer. "Would you care to explain?"

"I know what you're thinking, but I swear it's not what it looks like. This is..." After his explanation, his embarrassed flush only deepens at their mortified expressions. 

"I've never wanted to be this close to you."

"My sweet summer child is no longer."

"Guys, chill. I for one am glad Spencer is willing to…” Luke gives him an awkward smile, “keep it interesting. The best relationships take effort, right?”

Spencer hums, nodding, “Exactly. We’re doing great⏤”

“Hey, guys,” You greet as usual.

Without missing a beat, he faces you and snaps, “Damn it, (Your Name), for once stop running your mouth and get me a drink.”

Luke, Garcia, and Rossi freeze, gaze switching between Spencer and you, waiting with bated breath. They haven’t seen Spencer remotely like this, not since prison. And despite knowing that you asked for this, they’re fully prepared to throw themselves in front of him just in case. 

But instead of reacting violently as they expected, you pause, taking his poor attempt at a glare in stride. Then you smile, heading to the coffee machine. “Sure, no problem.”

Spencer turns back to them. “See? B-better than ever...”

“Dude, are you crying?”

⏤

“So you couldn't do it, huh?"

Shoulders drooping from exhaustion, Spencer slumps against your desk and sighs, “No, I’m sorry.”

You shrug, “It’s okay. Thanks for trying though. As a reward, let’s get take-out. My treat." You press a kiss to his cheek, but the smile you shoot him only serves to make his heart sink. “Meet me at the elevator, k? I’ll get my things.”

“Okay...” As Spencer shrugs on his satchel, he can’t help the guilt squirming in his stomach. Why does he feel like he disappointed you? Or more accurately⏤didn’t meet your expectations. Sure, you’ve had your fair share of disputes and as Luke put it, “lovers quarrels”, but never has he felt so… defeated.

Is this what failure feels like? It sucks.

So as the elevator shuts, as it dings with every descended level, as you babble about what you should have for dinner, Spencer makes an executive decision. 

A final stand, if you will.

You turn to Spencer, “So, what do you want for dinner⏤”

You yelp as your back hits the wall, the back of your head cushioned by Spencer’s palm because he’d rather kill himself than hurt you, pressing his body against yours. Warmth envelopes him, and as you meet his gaze, he musters all the dark emotions he can, the side of him he didn’t realize he had until prison. He feels it⏤the fury, the disgust, the merciless violence⏤bubble to the surface, and he can’t deny the satisfaction he gets seeing your eyes wide with shock; the entire day you’ve seen him coming, taking every one of his attempts like a joke in spite of his best efforts.

At least now he feels like he’s got the upper-hand.

Spencer leans in, bumping his nose against yours in an Inuit kiss. It’s a gentle contrast to his next words, and as your breath hitches, he bites back a smirk, pulling back to meet your eyes.

“What I want is for you to shut your mouth and put it to good use.”

Your jaw slackens.

The elevator dings and you both jump, Spencer quickly pulling away from you as the door opens to the parking garage. Luckily, no one else is around and Spencer leads the way as you head for your car. But you’re silent as you walk, and he wonders if he went too far. Was he too rough? Disrespectful?

“Hey, (Your Name), are you⏤” Spencer looks over his shoulder, only to halt at your expression. 

You give him a toothy grin, face flushed and eyes crinkling as you tilt your head at him. “Yes?”

...Ah. If you keep looking at him like that, his heart might burst.

Letting his bag drop at his side, Spencer pulls you into a tight hug, and for a moment you sway together, hearts beating in time, breathing steady.

Spencer sighs, “I don’t get it.”

“It’s okay, I don’t get it either!”

He smiles into your shoulder, chuckling. Yeah, he loves you.

Especially because you’re weird.

⏤

AN: hello took a break from studying and wrote this trash at 2 am whoops

to the user that requested some rough d/s smut with degradation and rough play, im sorry but my asexual ass just could not with this one. but as a kinky asexual i rolled with it✨

pls take the “rough” play and “degradation” lightly. it’s not supposed to be accurate representation. this is just reader and spencer experimenting and having fun!!

i love that yall have the hots for post-prison reid while im over here just wanting to tuck him into bed and kill anyone that brings him harm😳

[prfctethereal]

Can you write James Potter smut please. Thank you

frosted hearts. | james potter

pairing: single dad!james potter x preschool teacher!reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: NSFW. smut, sub!james, dom!reader, talk of masturbation, talk of punishment, mommy kink, praise kink, tit sucking, thigh riding, slap and degrading kink only for a short amount of time at the end

summary: you are harry’s preschool teacher and one day james is late to picking his son up from school

**

It was hard to be around screaming toddlers, all day, every day. By the end of your long shifts, your head was blistered by the engraved sound of whining, moaning, and that smacking sound the children make with their lips.

But for the most part, you loved being around kids. Their tenderness brought so much joy to you and you were happy to have become an early childhood teacher. Your workplace was loving, with your fellow teachers continuously supporting you through everything. Even the kids were decently nice.

The age old stigma that kids were devil spawn seemed like the most foreign concept to as you coddled a near sleeping three year old, his warm body curled up to your side. Reading a children’s story to the kids, you felt so much adoration for the children around you, enough to make your cheeks rouge. All of them looked at you with doe eyes as you finished the last page.

“And the princess and the prince fell in love and lived happily ever after.” You closed the book with a soft clap. “The end.”

Looking around, the children beamed, flashing their pearly, toothy smiles towards you. In that moment, you felt at peace, almost content, knowing that you were bringing enjoyment to the kids surrounding you. Gently, you stroked the arm of the nearest child, Harry, as he slowly unraveled from your side.

“Miss?” Harry asked placidly, his tiny fingers down playing with the hem of your skirt. He looked up at you, fluttering his long eyelashes.

“Yes, Harry?” You responded, once you knew that he wasn’t going to speak without permission.

“Do you have a prince?”

At those words, you frowned, your smile disappearing from your face. Admittedly, you have been quite lonely for the past year. Focusing on work has been devastating for your social life. After your messy breakup with your previous partner, you felt like it was unnecessary to rush into another relationship. Quickly enough, those days turned into months, and eventually a year. Your dry spell was becoming quite unbearable.

As the winter months closed in, you wished for more comfort at night. The smoking fireplace could only fill your lonely apartment with so much warmth before you got desperate - needy - for something more. Some nights were spent with your fingers curled up into your cunt, tight from the months of neglect, desperately trying to churn some pleasure out of you, but, there was only so much your own fingers could do. They couldn’t go nearly as deep enough, or stretch you nearly as much as you so deeply desired. You were starting to become flustered just thinking about it.

“No.” Your reply was short, until you realised the kids around you would want a longer explanation. Sighing, you folded your hands in your lap, pursing your lips forward. “I’m not a princess of any sort. Even then, sometimes people don't have someone with them.”

“Just like my Daddy.” Harry babbled unprompted, dawdling away from you to join the midst of his pre-school friends. “He is all alone too.”

You knew Harry’s father, and just the thought of him made you curl your toes in delight. He was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. Deep hazel eyes that light up when he laughs. Plump pink lips that frame his mischievous smile. Strong, muscular arms, complimenting his toned hands, that you can imagine wrapped around your neck...

Before you could even process the dubious insult thrown your way, you felt a sprinkling of fingers press lightly against your shoulders, snapping you out of your daze. Furrowing your eyebrows, you traveled your eyeline up, locking eyes with another teacher who worked there, Lily.

She looked absolutely wrecked. You knew she had been on the phone for most of the afternoon, for reasons you didn’t know, but you expected that you were going to be told now, as she beckoned you away from the kids.

“One moment.” You held up your finger, showing the kids an example of counting. As you walked away, you saw the kids out of the corner of your eye. They too had one finger in the air, repeating the same word - “One!” - over and over to each other. It was very cute.

“Roads have been closing because of the weather.” Lily started, her nimble fingers gesturing out of the frosted window panes. She was right; the roads were starting to look pretty bad. A thin layer of snow seemed to be shredding downwards, coating the town like powdered sugar. The sun stayed behind the clouds, not even daring to peek through, keeping the town in a cold flurry, and keeping the children inside. This was going to be a long shift.

“So, we’ll have to stay here longer tonight?” You asked, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips. You brought the pads of your index fingers up to the window pane, feeling the chill of the temperature seem into your skin. WIthout realising it, you traced a heart shape into the frost, your own heart sighing as you exhaled.

“Hopefully not.” Lily replied. “I’ve contacted all the parents and have told them to come pick up their kids as soon as possible. This storm seems to not be slowing down any time soon. So, potentially, we might be able to go home early, if the children all get picked up before the snow gets too thick. And, don’t bother coming in tomorrow. The snow’s gonna settle, meaning there will be road closure all across town.”

“Great.” A sarcastic laugh poured from your mouths as you turned back to the kids, who were still being occupied by the thought of having one finger in the air. “We should start getting them ready then.”

You and Lily worked diligently side by side, bundling the kids up in layers of soft clothing, keeping them secure from the storm. The kids joined in too, helping to clean the classroom, picking up litter off of the floor, and clearing off tables. As you sprayed down the surfaces of the tables and kitchen counters, you hummed a soft tune, getting into the rhythm of cleaning.

While you were occupied with cleaning, parents started arriving, greeting their kids with loving smiles and gentle touches. You melted as the kids ran excitedly into their parents arms, wrapping themselves around their mums and dads, wishing to not let go. In those sweet moments, you felt a fleeting pang of loneliness. You longed for your own child, and with that, a loyal husband. You breathed out a sigh, something that was becoming quite regular for you by now.

As more and more parents arrived, you saw the sun trickle behind the horizon. Soon, the night sky appeared, painting the sky in hues of indigo and cerulean. As much as you loved the night, you didn’t love the idea of being stuck here all night, and neither did Lily, who was looking even more restless than you.

Her ginger hair fell across her face, partially blocking her vision as she lethargically signed out the second to last kid. Deep, violet bags were forming under her eyes, her skin borderline white from her exhaustion. It was getting hard to look at.

“Why don’t you just go home?” Your offer made Lily perk her head up. “You look way too tired to even continue standing on two feet.”

“I couldn't do that to you.” Lily yawned, clasping her perfectly manicured hand over her mouth. “And besides, Harry hasn’t been picked up yet. I still have to do my job.”

You looked at her with pity in your eyes. You hadn’t seen her this exhausted in years, and you knew her anxiety was bubbling up as more and more snow fell onto the ground. “Please just go Lily. It’s only Harry; I can monitor him by myself. You need to get home before the snow gets heavier.” Before she could butt in, you continued. “Besides, Harry much prefers me over you.”

Lily laughed, closing you tightly into a friendly hug. “Thank you so much. I’ll get you back another day. Are you sure you’re all good closing up on your own?”

“Go home.” You waved her away dismissively. Lily bounced around and in only five minutes, she had collected herself, and had dashed out the door, leaving only you and Harry in the pre-school.

He was looking quite tired himself, which was understandable. By now, it was nearly eight o’clock at night, a time you knew was well past his bedtime. Harry had curled himself up on one of the naptime beds himself, his raven hair falling over his eyes. Staying by his side, you caressed his back, until he fell into a soft slumber.

You felt lonely again. Harry was asleep and there was nothing left for you to do until Harry’s father arrived to pick him up. You knew a few things about Harry’s father, from the fleeting conversations you had had over the time Harry had been at this school. You knew his name was James, and he looked like heaven. Everytime you glanced his way, you felt yourself grow wet. It probably was a problem, but your secret crush didn’t hurt anyone, so you kept it secret.

Long after it had become dark, you finally saw canary coloured headlights glint in the distance. It was a relatively nice car, something you’d expect a well paid ministry worker, like James, to drive. You watched attentively as the car parked slowly and surely. Then, the car door opened, and you got your first look of James for the day.

He definitely looked a little tired but there was something endearing about it. His fluffy brown hair was slightly disheveled, as if he had run his fingers through it greatly. His round glasses sat low on his nose bridge, with his natural eyes scanning the area. There, he locked eyes with you through the window, the same window you had drawn your pathetic heart on. Right then, James was positioned right in the middle of the heart, condensation like a halo.

Before you knew it, James had opened up the door into the school, realising a sigh of relief when he was hit by the warmth of the classroom. Dramatically, he closed the door behind him, leaning up against the frame, apologies falling from his lips like rain from the sky.

“I’m so sorry I was late. Traffic was crazy. Too many road closures.” James seemed frantic, but the solidarity of the preschool was definitely calming his mood down.

“There’s no need to apologise, Mr Potter. Harry is delightful to look after.”

“Please,” James held out his hand, “call me James.” You intertwined your fingers with hsi, shaking his hand ever so lightly, the same hand you had fantasised about. It was everything you dreamed of.

“I should drive Harry home now.” James broke the silence, his voice cutting through the tension, making you want to salivate. You didn’t like the idea of James driving in his state, especially since he looked so tired. If anything, he would need some caffeine in him before the journey.

You reached your hand up, stroking his right cheek with your left hand, concern filling your eyes. “Oh, please James, you look so tired. Let me make you a cup of tea before you journey back home. You look as though you need it.”

James chuckled. “Alright then, just one though. Besides, Harry seems to be having a lovely nap. Wouldn't want to disturbed him now, would we?”

You guided James into the back kitchen through a secret door. Here was your break room where you could have some peace and quiet away from the kids. It was one of your favourite places in the entire school, because even though you loved the kids, sometimes you just needed a place to help you unwind, and unwind you did. Countless times you had fallen asleep back here and had dreamed of James.

“We have Earl Grey. Is that okay?” You looked through your cupboards, eyes locking onto a small red box, tea bags flooding out of it. Personally, you weren’t a big fan of it, that's why there were still so many, but James didn’t seem to mind it.

“Please, sounds lovely, dear.”

You worked in silence, turning the kettle on to boil. Carefully, you dunked a tea bag into a mug, swirling it around in your fingers as you waited for the water to boil. The emptiness of volume was killing; you could’ve heard a pin drop. James was the one to speak up first.

“Harry really likes you. He talks about you often.”

“Oh really?” You chuckled in disbelief, facing away from James, fiddling with some lint of your sweater.

“Yes. Sometimes, he even calls you Mum. I’m happy that he has a mother figure like you to look after him.” You chuckled when hearing James’ words, which confused him. “Why are you laughing?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” You said, reaching for the kettle. “He’s just not the only one to have called me Mommy before.”

James furrowed his brows, even more confused. “You have kids of your own?”

“Not quite.” You swung your head around, throwing James a cheeky grin. That’s when he understood what you meant. He gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, his pants seeming just a bit tighter than before. It was definitely hotter in the room.

“What normally happens when people call you that?” James asked, testing the waters. As you stood to move around, the chair scraped against the wooden floors, alerting you of his prowling presence.

When he was a mere inch away from you, you smirked once again. “Why don’t you kiss me and find out?” You weren’t sure where this rush of confidence was coming from but you both seemed to not want to slow down.

Consciously, James raised his hand to your cheek, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. His soft hands lingered a little too long, before his eyes flickered downwards towards your lips. You knew what he wanted, but you never took him for the shy type. Something about this made you aroused. Needing relief desperately, you lunged forwards, connecting your lips to his.

It was everything you thought it would be. Hungry, passionate, skilled. Your lips melded perfectly together with his, as his lips sucked gently on your top lip. Yearning for something more, you moved your hands down to his ass, giving James an experimental squeeze. Just like how you wanted, he gasped, giving you the perfect entrance to insert your tongue into his ready mouth. He moaned, his lips vibrating against you.

“Show your Mommy how much you need her.” You pulled away, whispering those words at the shell of his ear. You could hear James whimper in front of you, positioning himself so he was straddling one of your thighs, as you were pushed up against the counter tops.

James’ fingers worked at the hem of your sweater. Eager to remove as many clothes as possible from you, he tugged at the edge, slow whimpers escaping his pretty mouth, as you tilted your head down to his neck, aching to leave soft love bites on his skin.

He was getting needier and more submissive by the minute, but to you, he was acting like a brat. “That’s not how we ask for something we want, is it baby? Use your words.”

“Please Mommy, may I take your sweater off?”

With a curt nod, you obliged, watching James’ eyes light up in fascination. Quickly, he pulled your sweater over your head, glad to see that your thin shir had stuck to the material of your sweater, leaving you in just a bra on top. His eyes were transfixed by the way your nipples were hard on your pert breasts, sticking out from your bra.

“Can I take your bra off please, Mommy?” James’ hands had already made their way around your torso, preparing for the inevitable.

“Yes love, good boy for asking.” You felt James grow harder against your thigh as you praised him, a thought that made you smirk in delight and what could be in store.

Like you were made of glass, James slipped the bra off of your shoulders, dragging it slowly off of your arms. You knew he wasn’t teasing on purpose, as it seemed that he was distracted by the sight of your tits, but you needed relief anyway, bucking your thigh up against his crotch as encouragement. “They’re all yours.”

Delighted, James leaned in, his whole mouth engulfing your nipple. With vigour, he bagan sucking, the pleasure of it going straight down into your core. You moaned loudly, something you learned that egged James on. Greedily, he started rubbing his hands down your side, eager to feel all of your skin. You didn’t mind though, as you were lost in your own moment.

“Good- good boy.” You stuttered out as James’ mouth left the centre of the nipple, beginning to suck small bruises into the side of your boob. Normally, you would punish him - well, anyone - for doing that without permission, but you didn’t care at that moment.

Content with his handiwork, James moved onto your next nipple, ready to give you the same amount of pleasure as last time. As he worked your nipple to a bright scarlet like the last one, you noticed a curious movement with his hips. Looking down, you saw James, rutting his hips into you, humping your thigh as if he was a bitch in heat. You moaned at the sight.

“You like that, huh? You like,” -  you jolted your thigh upwards - “Mommy’s thigh?”

“Mmm, so good.” James mumbled against your tit. You knew he was close to coming, but you weren’t quite done with him yet. Pulling him away from your body, you looked into his eyes to see a hurt expression, something you didn’t like seeing. Luckily, it wasn’t going to last long.

“If you can make Mommy cum from your tongue, then I’ll let you cum on my thigh, alright?” With an excited nod of his head, James immediately sunk to his knees, diving his head underneath your skirt. His fingers worked quickly, stretching the fabric of your panties to the side so he had the best access possible. When you heard a muffled “Oops” against your thigh, you could tell that your panties had snapped from James’ force, but you didn’t mind. He made up for it by being so damn skilled.

He dove in nearly straight away, his tongue licking straight up the lips of your cunt, lapping at it as if it was his first ever meal. The end of his tongue teased the entrance to your velvet walls, pressing in ever so slightly and pulling away, creating tension and frustration for you. But it felt so good.

“Feels so good, darling. Doing so good, my good boy. My good, good boy.” You knew he was spurred on by praise, so you gave him what he needed. Threading your fingers in his hair, you held him down slightly, taking the tiniest amount of control back.

When he began sucking at your clit, that's when you really felt the tide going out. It was ebbing at your senses, the only indication being your shaking body and the mewling whimpers coming from your mouth. This only encouraged James further to topple you over the edge.

Slowly, James brought his fingers up to your cunt, teasing your entrance with his finger. Then, he slipped it inside of you, feeling the way you clenched around his finger. You were so tight that James dreamed of how you would feel around his cock, these thoughts going straight to his straining dick in his pants. He needed relief, so he worked faster, inserting another finger and pumping faster.

You were so close by now. The combined stimulation of James’ lips suctioning at your clit and his fingers working in and out of you was too much. With one last hard suck, you felt your orgaasm wash over you like a tsunami. You could hardly hold yourself up, and that was evident by the way you toppled to your side. The only reason you didn’t hit the floor was because of James’ lightning fast reflexes, keeping you upright.

“Did I do good, Mommy?” James asked, his shiny eyes looking up at you with adoration, his lips glistening with your cum. You smiled sweetly down at him, stroking his cheek with your hand, until you pulled it back and gave him a harsh slap across his face.

“It was so good baby, but I thought I said only using your tongue?” James had the look of realisation on his face, but you kept going. “Naughty boys who don’t follow rules have to be punished, and I don't think you want to get put in the Naughty Corner, do you?”

James whimpered, but it sounded like he was enjoying the degradation. A smile spread across your face.

“Oh so you do? Good boy.”

[erensproudsimp]

Experiment

Hange Zoe x fem! reader Oneshot

⚠ Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Summary : Hange and you have been dating each other for quite some time. One day due to rain, you went over to Hange's and hehe hot stuff happens.

I've used they/them pronouns for Hange due to them being non-binary, hope y'all don't mind. :)

"HANGEEEE!" screaming down the hallway near the university laboratory, you entered said place joltily.

By this time all the science students were used you to coming by everyday while causing a ruckus to meet your significant other. You couldn't help yourself being always excited to see the only person who could make your day a million times better and today as usual you had something interesting to show them. Well, by interesting you meant something random you saw that day and just picked it up to give it to Hange. Never were they ever weird out by this as they were as eccentric as you.

"Look what I found today!" proudly bringing your hand close to their face to show them the red rock you saw in your yard.

"Heh, as usual my dear y/n, you never fail to fascinate me," they chuckled eyeing the objet closely.

"I shall add this wonderful rock to my series of collection of stuff you keep bringing to me everyday!" smilingly Hange took it.

This brought a faint blush on your cheeks as just the thought of Hange keeping the random stuff you bringing daily made you feel somewhat special.

" Sooo, what are you working on today?" you questioned them while looking at the equipment on the table.

"Ohohoho you don't know what I've just made!" they excitedly said dexterously arranging the mess to show you.

While they were enthusiastically explaining to you her recent invention, you couldn't help but stare at their jolliness. The way they made absolutely anything sound captivating just spellbound you. To describe it, it was like a meteor shower falling enlightening the night sky which you could gaze for hours, yeah, that's how Hange was.

"Hihi, that's awesome! I'm so proud of you!" you praised her happily.

"Hehe, I'm glad you appreciated my invention, after all I am your better half," haughtily they said which made you subconsciously smile.

Right at that moment a loud thunder was heard making you jump. Since morning it's been cloudy and you really hoped that it wouldn't rain in the evening as it would pose a problem for you to travel home by bus. The droplets were hitting hard against the window panes indicating it was a heavy shower. Disappointment filled your being.

"Noo, now how would I reach the bus stop on time with this weather," you complained utterly dejected and tensed.

"You know y/n, you can always ask me for a ride in my car right?" Hange said while pouring a clear liquid in a testing tube.

"I know but I don't wanna bother you."

"Oh come-on y/n, how can you ever bother me?" they reassured, "and if you really don't want to sound like a trouble then come over to my appartment. It's win-win situation, you reach home and I would get more time to spend with you."

"W-what, Hange please, ugh okay then I'll come with you," sighing you responded.

Waiting for Hange to finish up whatever they were doing but it wasn't as though you as a finance student would understand it to be able to help her out. Instead you were scrolling on Tiktok when they came up to you without warning making you jerk, "GOSH HANGE! YOU COULD HAVE CALLED FOR ME."

Chuckling, Hange grabbed your hand to make you stand up. Losing your footing, you fell in their arms which they gladly grabbed you. Giving you a brief forehead kiss, they proceeded to drag you to the parking lot. At first you didn't process the action making you scream but when you got the hang of it, you ran alongside with them hand in hand laughing.

Hange unlocked the car and you got into the front passenger seat. Both of you were laughing while still catching your breaths.

"Now off to my house we gooo!" Hange yelled as you were wearing your seatbelt.

Throughout the whole ride both of you conversed about each of your days and the daily news.

"Can you believe that Sasha and Nicollo are finally going out with each other? I always knew that they were a match made in heaven," you rambled as Hange listened to you intently while also focusing on the road.

"I mean I could see it happening seeing their compatibility and the way they complete each other, just like you complete me," Hange added.

Her last words made your face heat up which you hid by looking outside. Luckily for you, you finally reached your destination. It wasn't the first you came over to her appartement so you took her keys and ran inside. Normally her place would be messy like a dumpster because that human barely had time in her hands to take care of their house but for once it was spotless clean.

"Did Levi come over?" you asked them, hand on your hip.

"I-yeah. Yesterday he did. But I swear I'll try to be more responsible from now on!" Hange affirmed.

You took a deep breath and asked, "so what are we eating tonight?"

"I don't know y/n, you choose," they replied kicking their boots off to enter the residence.

"How about we order Pizza?"

"Sure thing love," grabbing her phone to order said food, Hange said.

"How about you go take a bath while I take out plates?" you suggested.

"I mean only if you're willing to join me," they smirked while leaning on the door.

Out of embarrassment you threw a pillow laying on the couch at her, "NO!"

"Sad, I was really hoping for some fun in there," they replied before running into the bathroom as you were about to hit them with another pillow.

While you waited for her to come out so that you in your turn could go freshen up, you arranged everything to be able to eat. Having such nights with Hange is always something you've dreamt of doing but you never had the courage to ask.

A few moments later, Hange came out with hair dripping wet which they were trying to dry with a towel. Damn they looked hot in that condition. Before you could start simp over them, you excused yourself to go bathe.

Feeling the warm water touch your skin evaporated all your stress from you as you relaxed. Coming out of the bathroom wearing Hange's clothes, you went to sit next to them on the couch. You noticed that the pizza had already arrived so you took a piece of it to eat. You two watched this popular series called 'Attack on titan' together until the pizza was finished.

Throwing the pizza cardboard in the bin, you went to see Hange already laying on the bed. Scooting to them, you placed your head on their shoulder as they held you tight with one arm and the other holding their phone. You were watching memes with her laughing when suddenly there was a video of two girls kissing came up which made your heart beat faster. You could tell Hange felt so as well as she swiped quickly to prevent awkwardness.

A little bit of tension remained in both of you yet no one made the first move. It kept growing as you felt their hot breath on your face because you were leaning on them.

Feeling bothered and assuming that Hange wasn't going to initiate it, you snatched their phone from their hand and kept it on the table next to the bed for you to straddle on them.

Shifting yourself to be more comfortable, you leaned down to smack your lips against theirs. Still processing whatever just happened, Hange went with the flow. For this moment at least. Hands on your ass, they squeezed them as you laid your body on theirs.

Lips still crashed against each others and tongues still fighting over control, Hange's minds began to fill with sexual fantasies that they could enact on you in this precise moment.

Pulling back from you, they settled your body on the bed to go search for something in the wardrobe. They came back with a blindfold facing you.

"Do you mind if I take your vision away for a while? I don't want to ruin the surprise of what I'm going to do to you."

Gulping hardly you took the black cloth and blinded yourself.

"Good girl," Hange praised giving you a headpat to continue their rummage.

With no warnings, you were pushed on the bed lightly. At first you didn't understand what was going on but that was before you felt a rope on your wrists which was being wrapped around them individually then pulled upwards signaling it was being tied down to the bed. The same thing was done for both of your legs.

Anticipation mounted in you as you felt hands running from your chest to your stomach.

"I hope that the ropes are not too tight, are they?" they concernedly asked.

You shaked your head to say no still having the blindfold on.

"No? Well, then I think you would love this being in your mouth," they said coming closer to you. You were expecting her to stuff her fingers in but it ended up being something you certainly didn't anticipate at all.

Holding your head up, they made you wear it. Initially it was uncomfortable but you managed to deal with it as it only turned you on more. It was a gag ball.

You laid your head on a pillow desperately craving Hange's touch but of course they were still searching for something.

"Don't worry y/n, I'll come to you as soon as I find that one thing I bought last week I wanted to test out," Hange spoke from the other side of the room.

Trying to keep your growing lust in control, you fidgeted with the device in your mouth.

" Ah-ha! found it, now wait for me y/n, I'll fuck you into oblivion soon," their voice coming out breathless.

Feelings the sides of the bed sink and a presence hoving above you, you became more excited to what Hange was going to do this time.

Their soft lips colliding again against yours as their hands ran down to unbutton your shirt leaving your bare chest naked as you weren't wearing any undergarments. For a few seconds Hange didn't do anything. As you were ripped from your eyesight, you couldn't see that Hange was in fact staring at the prefect roundness of your boobs displayed to them .

Unable to contain themselves, they ran their tongue on one of your breasts while the other was being fondled with their hands. Your breathing was quickening at their doings. Out of nowhere they bit your nipple softly making you bit the gagball stifling a moan.

Going lower on you they pulled down your pants while they kissed you on your bellybutton. Without warning again you felt a pain on your hip and teeth leaving your skin. Biting you again on the other side of your hip, Hange caressed your inner thighs. This time you couldn't contain the moan as it escaped your mouth through the gag ball.

Looking at your entrance, Hange saw that though they didn't yet completely lay hands on you, you were soaking wet. Then they assumed that it was probably from the long amount of time you had to wait for them.

You heard the opening of the cap of a tube. Your mind raced through all the possibilities of what it could be.

But of course it was the least thing you could expect as you felt something touching your cunt.

It was a lukewarm rubbery thing that was being ran through your swollen folds.

"Wanna guess what it is? Y/n," Hange said as you felt the object or whatever it was penetrate you. An 'hmm' came out of you as your back arched graciously making Hange widen their eyes.

"Ahaha, y/n you beautiful creature! You never cease to amaze me the more I explore you,"Hange complimented pushing the thing deeper into you.

" Lemme reward you for blessing me with his gorgeous sight and return you back your vision, "they continued.

Your insides felt empty as Hange had to remove the item to open the blindfold. You must say you had quite of the shocker to see them. Straddling you was a Hange that you didn't recognize.

They were wearing a black lingerie delicately complimented with black thigh highs and on their pelvis area was a strap-on-dildo.

"I wanted to experiment this on you," they gave you a light smirk before positioning themselves in front of your pussy. Taking the small bottle thrown on the bed nearby, Hange opened it. It was lube. Dropping quite some on the dildo, Hange jerked it to spread the lubricant.

Placing their hand on your hips for support, Hange inserted it again.

They couldn't describe how much they ravished to look at you in this state. As they were thrusting their hips in and out, the room became filled with your moans and Hange's name.

"Yes y/n scream my name louder. Make the neighbours hear how good I'm making you feel," Hange panted.

'Hmmm Hange I'm getting close, go faster please, "you begged them.

Taking your wishes into consideration, Hange did not double up the speed but rather trippled it. You were practically shaking on the bed as your screams got louder and louder.

Not late enough, you released yourself on them. The pleasure was so unbearable it almost hurted. Panting on the bed, you looked at the ceiling to regain control of yourself. Then looking back at Hange, only to see that they were already staring at you lovingly.

"Can you untie me now? I need to pee," you coughed.

"Ahaha, no piss on the bed," Hange declared as you were startled by their statement.

"Just kidding lemme help you refresh yourself," Hange joked making you feel relieved.

End.

Thank you for reading this. :)

[amjustagirl]

Notes: Title stolen from Song Of The Soul XXII by Khalil Gibran.

Companion piece: In the absence of sound (she hears her heart break)

Wrote this indulgent piece angst and fluff to reset after the very angsty The Astrophile (which took a lot of my own heart). As always, comments are gladly appreciated <3

Summary: Yaku bursts into her life like a hurricane, even whilst Akaashi lingers on like the memory of a summer breeze.

Pairings: Yaku x reader, Akaashi x reader

She runs into Yaku at the New Year’s Party the Japanese embassy in Moscow throws for expatriates (a fancy term to describe birds who’ve flown the coop after finding it unbearably small). He’s in the middle of chattering with a bemused waiter in very broken Russian about the spread when he explodes into a delighted laugh, so loud that she startles and spills her drink all over his shoes.

Pandemonium ensues – the restaurant staff scatter to fetch napkins and she’s trying to pick up the pieces of her broken glass, stammering out apologies (because dear god, her boss is going to have her head for upsetting a guest – especially one so prominent as Yaku Morisuke, the only Japanese volleyball player who broke into the Russian professional league), when his laugh cuts through the noise.

‘This was my favourite pair of shoes’ he tells her when he stops laughing, and she’s about to launch into a litany of apologies when he grins at her cheekily – ‘But you can make it up to me by buying me dinner instead’.

‘Now?’ she gapes at him in shock. ‘I can’t, I’m working’.

‘Whenever’, he answers, stealing her phone from her hands. ‘Look – here’s my number. Call me when you can’.

She’s left in shock, watching him in silence as he bounces off to join another conversation.

She texts him that night (because a deal is a deal, and she always pays her debts) and they arrange to meet the next day at a dumpling place he recommends.

She’s there five minutes early, and he bursts into the restaurant five minutes late, apologizing whilst complaining about goddamned Russian traffic. He orders for the both of them in such an excruciatingly terrible Russian accent that she winces, but he must have been here before because the waiter takes their order without batting an eye. The owner, a wizened old lady with apples in her cheeks swings by to smack kisses on his cheeks noisily.

‘It’s a little strange, but it’s the closest thing I can find to home’, he tells her when the waiter presents them with their dumplings with a flourish. It is indeed strange – the dumpling skin is thicker and doughier than she’s used to with Japanese  gyozas, stuffed with varying fillings of beef and pork and cheese, but his eyes are bright when she takes her first bite and gives a hum of appreciation because it is as he says, strange but good.

There is indeed an echo of home in her heart but she clamps it down firmly.

‘It’s good right?’ he asks and she nods mutely, mouth full of dumplings. He talks her ear away, telling her about his time in the Russian league, how he’s just made the first team this week. She learns he can’t remember a time when he doesn’t know the feel of a volleyball in his hands, and how he broke his mother’s heart when he chose to train outside of Japan, six thousand, four hundred and forty-eight miles away from home.  

He asks her why she’s in Moscow. She tells him she’s studied Russian as a child – her father, a math professor, believed it necessary for her and her sister to learn Russian, and while she’s never quite had a head for numbers, she takes to languages like a fish to water – and since she was looking for a new adventure, Moscow seemed like a good fit.

(She does not tell him she’s actually on the run from her broken heart)

‘You can teach me Russian then’, his words presumptuous, but there’s mirth and warmth flickering in his eyes that makes her hesitate to tell him off.

‘Maybe’, she responds with a shrug, standing up to pay the bill. To her surprise he lets her pay without a fight - very unlike Akaashi, who had only agreed grudgingly to allow her to split the bill on their first date.

‘It’s my turn to pay when we go out next time’, he tells her when they stand outside the restaurant about to part.

‘Will there be a next time?’ she asks him archly, and he pouts at her with puppy-dog eyes. He texts her less than five minutes after he takes his leave, inviting her to an ice skating rink.

To neither of their surprise, there is indeed, a next time, and a next time after that.

Yaku has an extremely sweet tooth, unlike Akaashi who prefers the bitterness of black coffee.

She tells him to drop in on her apartment after training (only if he’s up to it of course, she’s learnt that lesson from Akaashi after all). He does so without complaint, and she’s removing the pie from the oven when he lets himself in with the key he sweet-talked out of her.

‘Tadaima’, he calls cheerily, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he drops his gloves on the kitchen table. ‘Is that for me?’ he asks, gaping bug-eyed at the steaming pie in her hands.    

‘I don’t see anyone else it could be for’, she teases, setting the pie down on the table, cutting him a slice. The fruit seller at the corner of her street had a sale on apples, and she remembers Yaku telling her that he used to buy apple pie on the way to school every week, but would always end up giving it up to Kenma as a bribe to train harder during practice and finish running his laps.

He takes a bite and moans loudly even though he burns his tongue – it’s so good, a flaky, buttery crust hiding a jammy filling of caramelized apple and browned butter. It tastes like home in the fall when the leaves turn golden and red, when his mother brings home apples on discount from the store and he and his little brothers fight over the apples pastries his grandmother makes.

‘I love you’, he declares firmly, as he reaches for a second helping, and he pretends not to notice when she shrinks back and does not respond.

Yaku revels in public displays of affection - unlike Akaashi, who used to shy away from it.

‘I like your hair. Have you always kept it short?’ He asks her one day when they’re feeding ducks in the park near his house.

She laughs at him as he quacks exaggeratedly back at a very greedy duck chasing the bread in his hand and answers without thinking - ‘no, I cut it before I left Japan because I hear it’s what break-ups make you do’. Then she freezes, because this is the first time she’s ever alluded to Keiji to him – it’s a part of her life that she’d very much like to bury in a deep, dark vault and throw the key away.

But the expression on his face is very much like a cat eyeing a rat it’d like very much to trap and she’s right, he’s relentless (she should’ve known that, could’ve seen that from just watching one of his matches). As he walks her home, she finds herself telling him about Keiji - how his lack of affection and inability to step away from his job created a silence so still she heard her heart break.

When she finishes what she self-deprecatingly terms her tale of woe, he pulls her to a stop, ignoring the indignant protests of the people walking behind them. ‘What on earth, Mori’, she squawks, but he ignores her too, choosing instead to wind his hands into the ends of her scarf and tug her face to face with him. She does not want to look at him, does not want to see pity in his eyes – but there is none of that, only a quiet tenderness that warms her to her core.

‘I love you’, he tells her softly, and it’s a wonder she can hear every inflection of his voice through the rush of blood to her ears. ‘I will continue saying it as many times as you need, as loudly as I can until your heart is no longer broken and the silence is gone’.

Then, without an ounce of shame, he kisses her right in the middle of the busy street, completely oblivious to the glares of the people who pass them by.

Yaku is quick to anger, whereas Akaashi is the calm before the storm.

She’s told him again and again not to send her flowers – she swears she’s developed an allergy to them, the memory of Keiji sending her flowers every Friday even after they broke up sends bile up her throat (pink camellias for longing, violets for devotion, forget-me-nots for obvious reasons) – but Yaku doesn’t listen and sends her a bouquet of red roses for her birthday (for love).

So she screams at him when he pops by her flat after training –  because why on earth doesn’t he just listen to her, he knows she hates flowers, what on earth would possess him to send her flowers for her birthday, and he screams back that he does, damn it - but he’s not Keiji, he’s spent their entire time together trying to prove that, why can’t she just trust him for once.

Finally, he storms out shouting that he’ll come back when she’s calmed down, when she’s finally ready to forgive him for whatever Keiji has done – even though for the last goddamned time, he’s not bloody Keiji and she sinks to the floor, wondering why she’s allowed the ghost of Keiji to continue haunting her, six thousand, four hundred and forty-eight miles away from home.  

He’s right - it isn’t fair to him for her to keep comparing him to Keiji, to keep watching and waiting for him to slip up, not when he’s poured all his love and affection into her – into them . He’s not Keiji, never has been and never will be, and she wonders if this is the point his patience and kindness and love finally runs out.

But she’s not going to let another man she loves walk out of her life without a fight.

So she throws on her coat and climbs down the stairs, determined to march to Yaku’s apartment just a couple of streets away when she slams into him head-first at the corner of her street. ‘I’m sorry’ they both chorus immediately, and despite themselves, they break into a laugh.

‘I’m sorry for not listening’, he says, but she shakes her head, determined to say her piece. ‘You're right, it's my fault for not letting Keiji go. I should have figured this out earlier, but I know you’re not Keiji, you never have been, and I trust you never will be’.

And to drive the point home, thanking her lucky stars he’s not tall, she pulls him close by his collar and presses her lips to his. ‘I love you’, she whispers, when they finally come up for air. He looks at her like she just hung the stars up in the sky.

The next day, she presents him with a literal bushel of red roses, and he laughs at that - loud and clear and bright.

(The sound makes her heart feel whole again)

‘Why don’t you move with me’, Yaku asks her matter of factly through a mouthful of rice, at the end of her tirade about her awful landlord who just tried to stiff her by doubling her rent in less than a year with a month’s notice.

She stills, hand frozen halfway to her mouth. He does not swallow for fear of choking the mix of uncertainty and hope rising in his throat - because sometimes even though he promises to wait for her as long as she needs, he wonders if she’ll ever forget that he’s not her bloody ex – until he senses her relaxing her tense shoulders, and decides to close in for the kill.

‘Come on’, he wheedles. ‘We could even adopt a kitten so you won’t be lonely when I’m away for work’, and he laughs fondly when her face lights up. There we go.

‘You drive a hard bargain, but alright’, she pretends to grouse, but she laughs along with him when he triumphantly presses his lips to her cheek, dodging her swats when she scolds him for leaving grains of rice on her face.

They adopt a black kitten from the shelter and they name him ‘Kuroo’.

Much like its namesake, their cat is a piece of shit and contrary as hell. He doubles over in laughter when he comes home one day to find her chasing Kuroo (the cat, not the middle blocker) around the house, furniture upended everywhere. He later understands through her huffs that she meant to give him a bath.

He sends endless pictures of Kuroo (again, the cat and not the middle blocker) to the Nekoma groupchat and they all fall head over heels in love. Kai sends him advice on how to grow catnip in an apartment. Fukunaga asks to video call the cat more than he texts him. Shibayama and Inouka ship a box of clothes for the cat because they’re worried it won’t survive the Russian winter. The worst offenders are Kenma who sets up social media accounts for it, and bloody international supermodel Lev who pours oil on flames by tagging the damn cat on his own posts. Yaku is alarmed to wake up one day and find that his cat is more popular than him.

Well, all of them save for its namesake, who threatens to retaliate by naming his dog ‘Yaku’.

He gets drafted onto the National Team, and he’s elated until he realizes that he’ll have to spend months away from her.

‘It’s fine’, she reassures him. ‘Kuroo will keep me company while you’re back home’. The little demon licks its ass and looks intolerably smug when he shoots a glare at it behind her back, because he knows damn well the cat is going to take advantage of his absence to take over his side of the bed.

He extracts a promise from her to call him every day (screw the time difference, seriously) and he in turn promises to send her tickets to watch him play. Then he packs his bags and flies back to Tokyo.

It’s nostalgic being back in his childhood home. The posters from his teenage years are still on his bedroom walls (gods – he was such a horny bastard back then), and his mother smothers him with his favourite foods and far too much attention. But he lays awake at night thinking of their little apartment filled with the smell of her baking and the sound of her singing and realizes he misses  Kuroo - again, the cat, not the middle blocker, who’d miss him - despite its despicable way of stalking him while he takes a shit and most of all - he misses  her.

He figures he has it bad when he starts turning down his grandmother’s apple pastries because they remind him too painfully of the apple pies she makes after either of them have had a hard day at work, and wonders when he started thinking of Moscow and the little apartment he shares with her as  home.

But he soldiers on because playing for Japan is his dream (and has been, ever since he first learnt the thrill of keeping the ball in flight with his hands), and gets by on video calls and texts and pictures of Kuroo and the promise of dumplings and apple pies when he comes home.

He makes the mistake of mentioning that he has a girlfriend in Miya Atsumu’s earshot after practice one day.

‘You have a girlfriend?’ the piss-haired setter asks in disbelief. ‘You? Mr bossy - under five foot five – libero-chan managed to land himself a girl that’s willing to tolerate him?’

‘Just because you have an issue keeping girls from running away from you doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t find girlfriends’, Sakusa interjects flatly, face firmly masked up, trusty bottle of sanitizer pointed in Atsumu’s direction.

Yaku is about to claw Atsumu’s eyes out when Hinata prances by and asks to see a picture of said girlfriend. Growling, he whips out his phone, and is mollified when the rest of the team crowds around and pronounces her to be very pretty. Everyone – except Atsumu, who sulks in a corner, sneering that he could do better (no he can’t - he really can’t get a girl to save his life), and Bokuto, who corners him later when he’s about to leave.

‘She used to date Akaashi, you know?’ Bokuto tells him solemnly, a marked departure from his usual jovial self. ‘They broke up on a pretty bad note’.

Yaku does not in fact know, because she’s never mentioned her ex-boyfriend’s last name, always opting to refer to him as ‘Keiji’, a fairly popular name for guys their age. ‘Oh?’ he replies, and tries his best to sound encouraging and not derisive or threatening or whatever it is that Atsumu has accused him of over the past few weeks of training.

‘Yeah. She’s a nice girl, I met her once or twice, but between you and me, I don’t think Akaashi is really over her’.

Too bad for him, he wants to say but doesn’t, because despite whatever Atsumu might say about him, he’s tactful, thank you very much, and knows it’s probably not the best idea to badmouth his teammate’s best friend to his face, especially a teammate he likes as much as Bokuto. Instead, he stuffs his shoes in his bag, shrugging and grunting noncommittally before heading off.

He doesn’t mention this to her during their nightly video calls. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want them to have to talk about him being an old acquaintance with her idiot ex over a call, their time together is too precious to be tainted by any mention of him. But there’s a part of him that wonders if it’s because he’s afraid that she’ll bump into Akaashi when she’s back in Japan and he might convince her to let him sweep her away. Akaashi is tall, dark and handsome, and most definitely smarter and more educated after all - a better match for her than him, an idiot that chases balls for a living.

But then her laughter chimes through his phone’s speakers as he pouts when she carries Kuroo to the screen to ask if he misses his daddy (the traitorous hell spawn refuses to even look at him) and it banishes the shadow of his doubts away. It’s as clear as day that she loves him, ball chasing idiot Yaku Morisuke.

He falls asleep to the sound of her humming his favourite songs.

She flies to Japan with their cat in tow a week before the Olympics and even though he’s moved into the Olympic dorms by then, he sneaks out to meet her for dinner as often as he can. Atsumu catches him once and grumbles something about  ‘hypocritical bossy know-it-alls’  - but shuts up when Yaku turns up for practice the next day and is too busy grinning ear to ear to yell at him for flubbing an easy receive as he usually does.

When he finally steps onto the court for his first match, it’s easy to get carried away, because the light bearing down on the court is brighter than any game he’s played in before, and the roar of the home crowd is so loud he swears the tremors in his feet are from the floor - but he doesn’t. Because there’s a girl in the VIP stands shouting his name, and maybe it’s childish of him, but he has something to prove - he wants to make her proud.

And he does, because they win.

The entire team is in the locker room when he hears the clatter of familiar footsteps, then a shrieked ‘Mori’ before she tackles him into a bone-crushing hug. Atsumu barks at her ‘not to break our dear libero-chan’, but neither of them pay him any mind - she doesn’t even care that he’s literally dripping in sweat and snot and tears - because they won, they won, they won  -

Then he looks up and sees Akaashi staring at them. Ah. The idiot ex-boyfriend has to ruin their moment.

Just as he’s wondering whether his fist should meet Akaashi’s eye or nose first, Bokuto swings by at the moment to distract her. She’s so excited at seeing a familiar face that she disengages herself from their hug and throws her arms around Bokuto instead. Yaku thinks that Bokuto is probably a lot smarter than most people give him credit for as Akaashi approaches him, his hand outstretched.

‘Take care of her’, Akaashi says with a bittersweet smile on his lips. ‘You’re a lucky man’.

He pauses briefly to glance at her - and gods she’s radiant even as she’s chattering away to Bokuto, her eyes sparkling, the light shining softly on her hair -  fuck, Atsumu’s right, he’s whipped - and tries to imagine a world where she slips through his hands. Suddenly, the twisted knot of spite in his chest unravels, and he can only feel the dregs of pity pooling in his belly. He's not blind, he can recognise the look of wistful regret on the taller man’s face, and he's certainly not deaf - he suspects that if he listens hard enough, he can hear Akaashi’s heart break.

I know, I’m lucky to have her - he wants to say but does not because that would mean twisting a knife in an already broken man. Instead, he steps forward to take Akaashi’s hand.

‘Always’, he promises firmly. Akaashi inclines his head in thanks.

Her heart is safe in my hands.

She returns to Russia first, and he follows a few weeks later, after a whirlwind of awards and press interviews.

He breaks into a run when he sees her standing at the arrivals gate with a bouquet of red roses and a cheeky grin on her face. ‘You’re rubbing it in at this point’, he pretends to pout, but rather spoils its effect when he swings her into his arms.

She cooks dumplings for dinner and there’s an apple pie waiting for him in the oven. His jaw drops in surprise when the dumplings taste exactly like his mother’s cooking. ‘I learnt it from your mum while you were at training, in case you already miss home’, she teases.

‘But with you, I am home’, he responds, his voice earnest and low. She flushes pink and blushes bright red when he carries her off to bed.

She is his home now, she and their cat in their little flat in Moscow bursting at its seams with apple pies and dumplings and  love .

‘I want this to be my forever’, he tells her later, laying his head in her lap. His heart skips a beat, waiting for her response.

‘So do I’, she finally replies, running her hands through his hair. Her heart hums quietly, finally in safe hands.

[kiribaku-queen]

The Blood King and his Queen [4]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.9K

Summary:  From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: Thank you for all the love you have given to this series so far! As I’ve said before, this is my side blog so I can’t reply directly to your comments. But I love reading them. I love reading your tags when you reblog. It really makes my day. And if I could respond to each and everyone of you, I really would because I just appreciate you so much <3 Just know that I FREAK out everytime i get a sweet comment. Like, I could comment on my main but like... thatd be weird. let me know though if youd like me to do that?

Anyway. lets get to the chapter! Happy reading :)

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After a whole days worth of exploring this new unknown, the sun began to set in the distance and the dark, night sky was quickly approaching. This led Bakugou and his soldiers to set up camp nearby. Not far away from the town you were in was a hill that came with a very beautiful view. It overlooked the entire town and when it becomes fully dark outside, that’s where the magic comes. Lanterns and torches lit up the entire place, creating this orange and red array of beautiful sunset colors.

Bakugou’s soldiers were split into three groups: setting up camp, starting the fireplace, and making food. While everyone was doing their respective tasks, you were sitting under a tree to shade you from the setting sun. Bakugou, on the other hand, wasn’t resting like how a prince normally would. He was helping along side his soldiers; talking, setting up camp, and… laughing. It was the first time you had seen him with a genuine smile on his face.

You tilted your head at the sight. He looked kind. The way he talked to his soldiers, the way he treated them, how he looked like he could be himself… was this the real prince? How could you have made him out to be this horrible person in your mind, only for him to act like a normal person?

As you were deep in thought, Bakugou couldn’t help but take a few glances at you every now and then. You were sitting all alone at the top of that hill and he was here, actively avoiding you. How could he even approach you? Forget that he was practically with you the entire day. He didn’t know how to start a conversation with you. Or with anyone for that matter. He’s not used to having a fiancée that is also a stranger. Being raised sheltered didn’t help him become a people-person. So he opted to helping set up camp. He needs something to keep him distracted from a beauty that keeps looking his way.

“Just go talk to her,” Mina, his female soldier, finally huffed. She was tired of how shy his highness was acting. It was not a sight she usually saw and if she had to take anymore of this fluffy behavior, she was going to pass away.

“I can’t,” Bakugou gave up so easily.

“What do you mean you can’t? Nothing is stopping you from talking to her,” Mina pointed out. But still, Bakugou was reluctant to go.

“What do I even say?” he asked for advice.

“Get to know her! Ask her how her day was. Ask her what her favorite color is. She’s your fiancée, soon-to-be queen. You’re going to have to spend the rest of your life with her. Ya might as well get comfortable with her when you have the chance,” Mina pushed Bakugou slightly towards your direction. Yet, he still wasn’t budging on his own. The female solider groaned and put her hands on her hips.

“I didn’t say you had to fall in love with her. At least try to be friends!” Bakugou’s face became flushed upon hearing the god forsaken L word. He became so flustered that he couldn’t even talk straight.

“W-Who said anything about… l-love,” his voice became quiet at the end.

“Go on, your highness,” she joked, taking the wood from his hands. “Give me this, and go talk to her,” she said one last time and faced away to continue setting up camp. With a deep exhale, Bakugou finally turned to you and walked up the hill.

You saw his highness making his way up the hill to you. Your breath hitched in your throat and you became stiff. By the time Bakugou had taken a seat next to you, you had already straightened your back to create the perfect posture, as a princess should.

There was an awkward silence at first. You and Bakugou just sat in front of that tree while you watched everyone do their job in setting up camp. It took a few moments for Bakugou to clear his throat and finally talk to you.

“How are you enjoying your trip so far?” he asked. That should be a good start, he thought. He glanced at you and got a glimpse at your big, doe-like eyes. You were a bit surprised that he was talking to you in such a civil manner but also made you relax.

“I’m very much enjoying it. It’s the most fun I’ve ever had,” you told him truthfully, childish excitement twinkled in your eyes.

“I’m glad,” Bakugou replied, still flustered at your reaction. He wasn’t expecting such an innocent response from you. You definitely are different from other princesses he’s encountered. But the conversation ends there. Back to silence once again. It was until curiosity got the best of you. You didn’t think about it and went ahead and just said it.

“Your people aren’t scared of you,” you commented. You didn’t realize how insensitive the comment was until it came out of your mouth. You wanted smack yourself in the head but it already came out. You forgot for a moment that you had to pretend to be the princess. And the princess would think before she spoke. But your dumbass thought it was smart to just say whatever came to your head.

“Why, are they supposed to be scared of their prince?” Bakugou asked. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes. What do you even say to that? Do you address the rumors you’ve heard?

“I-um,” you stutter. Stupid, stupid! Why did you even say that? After you thought the prince wasn’t actually all that bad, he was going to hate you now.

“I see the rumors travel far,” he says. He shifts in his seat, allowing himself to lay back on his elbows. “It’s not like my people don’t know about the rumors. Even I know about them. They just don’t know what their prince looks like.” He opens up to you. Unlike his brothers, Bakugou likes to hide his face from his people. And he does it well. He wanted to make sure that his identity was hidden and wasn’t made known to anybody. This was the only way that he was able to leave the palace and roam around freely in his kingdom without fear from his people.

“Why would you hide your identity?” you ask, curiously. You’ve never heard of a prince or princess hiding themselves from their people. It was only natural that they are bathed in glory and loved from the public. To hide your identity, you are stripped away from a certain power that only they could hold.

“Because I wouldn’t be able to do this,” he says, opening his arms up to the world. You looked out and couldn’t understand what he was trying to say. Bakugou saw the confusion in your face and chuckled.

“I wouldn’t be able to enjoy this freedom. This open air. I wouldn’t have been able to see my kingdom for how it really is. I wouldn’t have been able to be here with you.” You finally meet his eye and you guys hold each other’s stare. That’s when you understood. You could see his story through his eyes. Although you couldn’t see all of it, you understood at least a little. You could see the pressures and difficulties of being the prince, the Blood Prince no less.

Bakugou opens his mouth to say something else but quickly shuts it. He decided that it wasn’t the time to tell you just yet. You caught that little act and frowned.

“What is it?” you ask. Bakugou shakes his head and disregards it.

“In due time, princess,” he says. Before you could rebuttal, Kirishima calls you both down from the bottom of the hill.

“Dinner’s ready!” he shouts. Without a moment’s hesitation, Bakugou is already on his feet to head down. You, on the other hand, take a little longer to head down. Thanks to your dress, you had to gather it, careful not to step on it while getting up. A hand appears in front of your face and you looked up to see the owner. The prince had offered his hand to you while looking away shyly.

Little did you know, Bakugou had planned on doing that. He was already heading down to where the hot food was being poured out in bowls. But Mina had turned to him furious and motioned for him to go back. Bakugou couldn’t understand what she was trying to do. So Mina had physically act out him offering his hand to you as a romantic gesture. Clueless Bakugou did just that. And that simple act made your face heat up.

You and Bakugou made it to campfire with your arm around his. His soldiers held back their snickers and smiles and handed you each your dinner. Inside your bowl was a hot serving of porridge with meat and vegetables to fill you up. The smell was immaculate. You couldn’t wait to taste it. One sip of the porridge and your eyes lit up.

“Delicious!” you exclaimed, downing more of the food.

“I’m glad it’s to your liking, princess,” Sero, another one of Bakugou’s soldiers, bowed in respect while addressing you.

“It’s the only thing he’s good at,” Denki, another one of Bakugou’s trusted soldiers, poked fun at him.

“At least I’m good at something. You’re not good at anything!” Sero bit back and a round of laughter filled the air.

“I’m good at a lot of things!” Denki tried to defend himself.

“Yeah? Name 5 things right now!” Mina joined in. There was more laughter around the campfire when Denki paused to think about his answer. Even Bakugou was giving a hearty laugh at his soldiers joking around.

It was interesting. To see Bakugou’s true self come out around his comrades, or more like his closest friends. Who knew that the angry, scary Blood Prince could smile so wide like this? If you told the girls that the oh so famous Blood Prince wasn’t actually the scary killer we all knew, they’d laugh in your face.

Not long after dinner, you found yourself yawning. Nightfall was already upon you. Since you still had a long way to go for your trip, Bakugou advised you to sleep early so you could depart as soon as possible when the sun rose. Fortunately for you, the tent was already set up. You got into the tent and waited patiently for Bakugou.

This made your heart race. This was the first time you guys were sleeping together and you weren’t wedded yet. Was this okay to do? His soldiers were sleeping a bit farther away to give their prince and his fiancée some privacy. It’s not like you two were going to do anything. Just the thought of having him next to you while you slept in this small tent was something you thought you’d never do. But it couldn’t be avoided. You just had to breath and calm down. It won’t be for long anyway.

You continuously away for Bakugou but he never comes. You peek out the tent and he’s laying out on the grass, hands behind his head and eyes already closed.

“Um,” you speak out and Bakugou peeks one eye out. “Are you not coming in?” you ask.

“The tent is for you, princess,” he says nonchalantly and closes his eyes again. You frown at this.

“Do you not have a tent?” you question.

“I’m used to sleeping on the ground. Don’t worry about me, you should get some rest,” he continues to say with eyes closed. That didn’t sit right with you. It gets very chilly at night. Without any coverage, he’s bound to get cold. It wasn’t fair that you very comfy inside this tent while he is outside in the cold. The more you’re around him, the more your image of him changes. Everything he is doing and saying is making you think differently of him.

You gather your blanket and plop right down next to him. Bakugou jumps and sits up when you get situated in your new sleeping spot.

“What?” you ask, looking up at him.

“What are you-” he couldn’t even finish his question because he is so speechless.

“I’m not going to let you sleep out here by yourself. Come,” you pat the grass next to you. “Lay down.”

Still shocked with confusion, he lays down next to you. Now you were shoulder to shoulder. Going through a roller coaster of emotion, Bakugou is now freaking out because you are so close to him. His heart is beating faster and his mind was racing. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep tonight.

You thought sleeping next to him was going to be no problem. You were so tired that you wouldn’t mind sleeping next to your ‘fiancé’ and just knock out. But it seems like any signs of tiredness was thrown out the window because now you were wide awake.

Probably an hour has passed since you laid down next to the prince. Bakugou noticed that you were restless next to him, constantly moving to get comfortable but never enough that you were able to fall asleep. Should he talk to you? What does he say? Should he follow Mina’s advice?

“Are you awake?” Bakugou’s raspy voice shocked you.

“Ah, yes,” you answer, moving to lay on your back.

“What’s your favorite color?” Bakugou took the courage to ask.

“Lilac purple,” you say. “Do you have a favorite color?”

“Red,” he says simply. “Do you have a favorite food?”

“I like simple dishes like what we ate today. Porridge, soups, stews.” Well, that’s actually all you were able to eat as a servant. But he didn’t have to know that. “You?”

“Anything meat. Favorite piece of literature?” he asked. This made you pause. As a servant, you weren’t able to read anything so how could you answer this question. You tried to think back to a time when you saw the princess studying because for the love of you, you couldn’t remember any names of those books.

“Ah, there’s so many. I can’t name one,” you made up on the spot. But Bakugou believed it.

“I guess I could say the same. Hm, how about favorite animal?”

“Let’s say it at the same time,” you suggested. Bakugou smirked.

“Alright. 1,”

“2.”

“3.”

“Dragon!” you both say at the same time. But at the same time, you both rolled to your side to face each other and that led to your faces being extremely close together. You both stared at each other, wide eyed. Though both stunned, you couldn’t look away from each other. Bakugou looks down at your lips but clears his throat and looks away. You do the same and turn away from him. You cover your face in embarrassment because you saw the way he looked at you. What was that!? Bakugou balled his hands into fists and knocked his head. What was he even thinking?

The more you got into your head, the more you started to drift into sleep. Eventually, your eyes shut completely and you fell asleep. Throughout the night, Bakugou couldn’t sleep. His mind kept replaying how close your face was to his. God, he didn’t even know why his eyes steered towards your lips. As if he wasn’t embarrassed enough, he was even more so for acting like that. He peeked at you and saw you shivering from the night breeze. That blanket was so thin, it wasn’t doing anything to help protect you from the wind. So he takes his cape and wraps it around you. When he adjust the cape to cover all of you, you moved so that you were cuddling up right next to him. You were so close that he could feel your breath on him. Bakugou froze. He was afraid that if he moved, you would wake up. As silently and as slowly as he could, he laid back down with you practically on his chest. Huh, you were so warm for someone who was shivering. It was only a minute that you were on him and he felt his eyes getting heavier with every passing second. Eventually, he falls asleep with you resting in his arms.

The next morning, Kirishima and the rest of the crew wake up early to pack and get ready for the rest of the journey. Kirishima brings Denki along to head up the hill where you and Bakugou were still sleeping. As soon as your sleeping bodies came into view, Kirishima stopped dead in his tracks. You were fully resting on top of his chest, your arm wrapped around his upper body. While Bakugou had a hand under you, wrapped around your waist and his chin rested on top of your head. Kirishima’s eyes softened at the sight. But it was all ruined when Denki got too excited and smacked the red head next to him.

“Dude! You see what I’m seeing?!” Denki whisper shouted. Kirishima rolled his eyes, grabbed his shoulders and turned him around.

“You’re gonna wake them up you idiot!” he scolded, and forced back down the hill to give you guys your privacy.

The sun hit your face just perfectly for you to wake up naturally. You stretched your arms and yawned. At the same time, Bakugou was also just getting up. The moment your eyes saw each other and saw how you were positioned, blush immediately appeared around your cheeks and you both separated from each other. Thank god you guys woke up before anyone saw you like that, you thought. But the soldiers had already seen you two together.

A/N: I’d love to hear what you have to say about this chapter! Lots of fluff so far! I literally can’t wait for the drama to begin but we gotta build up to it! Any drama you want to see happen? Let’s spice this baby up!

Also let me know if you want to be tagged for the next chapter! Spoiler: danger next chapter???? Can’t wait to see you next Monday! Thanks for all the love <3 I love you guys so much!

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @melasnchz-things @animexholic @bkgwrites @sam-i-am-1025 @apexqueenie @katsukibabe @germfart3 @tspice283 @angie-1306 @bakugous-trauma​ @bakugousmrs​

[roger-that-cap]

meet me in the gardens

knight!natasha x lady!reader

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say not to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either.

warnings: marriage lol, angsty knights and ladies, reality slapping mfs in the face almost too quickly

word count: 3.3k

hi guys,,, it has been a slow minute, thank you guys for even still clicking on this after all this time lmao 

part seven!!

It was customary to have more than one handmaiden dress a lady for her wedding, but both you and Wanda knew that no one was going to be allowed to watch you break down from the inside out. There were no words between the two of you as she laced you up as an unmarried woman for the last time, your gown gorgeous and heavy with weight and meaning. You didn’t even sniffle as the tears ran down your face, eyes blazing with emotions that would be forever unspoken. 

 Wanda wiped your face and started to dress that up, too. 

While you stood there, you couldn’t help but think of the night before. Dinner with Rumlow was an absolute travesty. He was rude, brutish, and even more of an animal than your last husband. He chewed like he was some type of wolf, smacked his lips far too loud, and was by far the rudest person to your staff. His language was of the pirates and his eyes wandered from you, to Wanda, to a younger girl, and then back to you with the same look of disgusting desire. It was painfully obvious that he was the type of man to see things and get things because he desired them. He was the type to break his toys, as well. He was horrible, and that was all before the eyes of other people. You started to feel sick when you thought about how brave he would be behind closed doors. The doors that would be closing very, very soon on the two of you. 

 The dinner was horrible, but the worst part was that Natasha wasn’t there. The worst part was always going to be her absence.

“You look so beautiful,” Wanda said, her voice a crackling and regretful whisper as she watched you in the vanity, a small and forced smile on her face. You met her eyes only for a second in the mirror before you turned them away, down to look at your covered feet. 

  “I’m being thrown away,” you said slowly, like the words were pulling themselves from your lips. “For the second time in my life. Is this the life of a woman that I tried to avoid so terribly? Is this the fate of all women?” 

 Wanda opened and shut her mouth, trying to find something to say that could possibly help you, and then she just shut it for good, her lips wobbling. You could feel her guilt radiating off of her, feel it stewing and brewing inside of her heart and chest even though it wasn’t her fault. You wanted to tell her that, to reassure her that she didn’t fail you like she thought she did, and that she never could fail you, but your lips were stuck together as white hot tears fell down your face. 

 There were three sharp knocks on your door, and you wiped your tears quickly, expecting someone to barge in. “Who is it?” You asked, the fake strength in your voice barely enough to hide the fact that you were crying and miserable. 

“I’m Lord Rumlow’s-”

“You aren’t allowed in here,” Wanda responded roughly. “No one sees her until she comes out, that’s a rule.” And it was a rule, one that you had forgotten all about. No one was supposed to see the bride before she made her long walk to the groom. And even during the walk, a covering was supposed to be on the bride’s face, shielding her from the world. It was sickening. “So go away.” Wanda’s tone had whoever the man was nearly jogging away, not even asking a second question. 

“I don’t know if I’m gonna be sick or not,” you muttered, and Wanda pushed the barrel that she brought earlier closer towards you. 

“Use it if you need to, honey.” Just as you were about to bend over and give up the breakfast that you didn’t even eat, there were soft raps on the door. 

  “If  have to tell you to go away one more time-” 

“It’s me,” a familiar vice said, and Wanda immediately stopped talking. “And I brought someone else, too.” You picked your head up from the barrel and looked towards the closed door, trusting that Pietro wouldn’t have done anything stupid. Wanda felt the same, clearing the space between where she originally was and the door within seconds. Pietro came in, fumbling and looking at you with a pitiful smile. You turned away, and then there was a flash of red in the corner of your eye. 

Your chest seized up.Your hands started to shake, and the tears that you had dried started back up all over again. “Oh.” 

“Let’s leave them for a few moments, Pietro.” Wanda suggested, tugging him out of the room by the arm and leaving you and Natsaha in the room together, alone. 

No one spoke for a long time.

You just stared at her, just like she stared at you, watching her chest rise and fall, and the guarded look in her eyes. She looked angry. But you knew her better than that. Sometimes, you wondered how you know her better than that because you had such a short time to know her at all. But it felt like you had watched a thousand sunsets and seen millions of river cycles with her. But it still wasn’t enough. And now, standing in front of her with a wedding dress that wasn’t meant for her at all, you knew that you had lied to her and to yourself that night at the river. Nothing was ever going to be enough.

“You look…” She started, taking a step closer to you. “You look stunning. You always have.” 

You shook your head at her, looking away for a moment to gather your bearings. Your voice trembled as you tried to get something out, anything that would make the situation even a little better.  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You gave her a glare. “Don’t be. We both knew how this was going to end, and we both still continued. This isn’t shocking news to me, or you. It’s horrible, but we knew it was coming.” 

In that moment, reality hit. All those stupid promises about going to the gardens or the woods behind Rumlow’s back seemed like a suicide mission. That one, long chat about running away seemed like two naive children after being scolded by their parents. You had been peacefully living in an untainted world with Natasha, when you of all people knew much better than that. “So, what? What point are you getting at?” 

“I chose to go on being with you because I knew that regardless of where you were or where I was, or who you were with, that the love wouldn’t leave. I chose to have a little slice of happiness and knowledge that we tried, and that we had fun together. I chose to have that, and so did you. We know that we would have worked out, if this wasn’t happening. We know that if there’s another universe or another life, that we’ll end up together. Just not this time.” She took a step closer to you, her eyes lingering on your damp cheeks. “I’ll always be in love with you.” 

You were realizing too quickly that a world where you were allowed to love her and she was allowed to love you was years and years away. It was a place you could only dream about, but all you had to work with was a world who didn’t tolerate true love in the face of duty, and a world who certainly didn’t tolerate two women together. You would not let her die for you, or your love. 

“From afar,” you said, and for a second you were afraid that she would push you and ask why you were walking away. You were afraid that she wouldn’t get it. You had been jumping around in your own mind, making concrete conclusions at the drop of a hat and jumping to the next subject. You wondered if she was keeping up, if she was on the same page as you were even through all the skipping around. 

It hurt to admit, but you were realizing that you were on the same page. Just the other night, you were promising forever, promising every second alone to each other. You promised a life of secrecy and adoration, and that was what your hopeful heart wanted. But now, you had a mind, and your mind knew it was life or death. Your mind knew that sneaking around wasn’t plausible and it held more potential for danger than you ever wanted to have. By the look in Natasha’s eyes, you could tell that she had made a complete turn, too. You were both at the same crossroads, staring at each other from feet away.

You had told her forever, and she had promised you the same, but it just wasn’t going to work. It never was going to in the beginning. 

But then she nodded at you, a sad look in her eyes even though there was a tiny smile. “From afar.” 

“Are you gonna be there?” 

“To watch you get married?” She said, her face twisting up in disgust. “No.” Pause. “I can if you want me to be.” 

You shook your head. “Don’t come.” She would already have to sit through the hours of barbaric celebration by law, but she didn’t have to watch the ceremony. Making her would be torture to you both. 

“That’s what you want?” You nodded your head. “Then I won’t come.” 

Your heart was racing in your chest, contrasting to the way you typically felt just content upon seeing her. “What if I told you that I wanted you to kiss me one last time?” 

“I’d ask where all the time went, for us to be on our last already.” 

You scoffed, more out of disbelief than because you found it funny. “Where did all the time go?” 

She shrugged. “The stars ate it up.” 

§§

You had to be one of the angriest brides the kingdom had ever seen. The veil covered your face, your hands trembled with nerves and fury, and your eyes held unshed tears. Wanda was whispering beside you as the room to the door opened, telling you that she would always have your back while the procession started, but you hardly heard a thing. All you could think of was that it was your second time being sold like a farm animal, being made to marry someone you hated. You hated it. You hated the High Priest. You hated that the distant king did nothing. You hated that you weren’t strong enough to put a knife through Lord Rumlow’s eye. 

The procession was slow, as all processions for weddings were. Much to Lord Rumlow’s chagrin, you were being led by two people instead of one, who was supposed to be one of his knights. Wanda and Pietro led you, one on each side, the three of you linked by hand while it was traditionally by elbow. Your feet ached almost as much as your heart as you walked past people that you could hardly see because of the veil, but you could tell that they were in awe. The dress was long and beautiful, you had some of the most expensive jewelry money could buy, and you were sure that you looked like a princess. You could hear the whispers of people who were excited to watch a noble wedding, excited to have the feat that was entitled to everyone in the village after such a big event. You wanted to cry once you realized how unaware they were about the way you were forced into it. 

Soon, you checked out of your own body. You were confident enough in Pietro and Wanda’s leading of you to close your eyes, holding back tears. If he lifted the veil and saw you crying, who knew what he would do? You saw stars when you did, constellations, clouds, even flashes of your favorite rose bushes. You took in a breath, eyes still closed as you tried to find a happy place. You prayed to the gods that the walk would be never ending, that the twins would lead you off in the forest and have you live as some sort of forest woman, fending for herself but free. But then their feet stopped. 

 “Today we have come under the light of the sun to see a love blossom,” your eyes snapped open as you blinked, squinting at the priest who was holding his brown book, even though he hardly needed it. He was talking without looking at it, eyes searching the crowd for attention. You rolled your eyes. 

He seemed to talk for hours. You could feel Brock Rumlow next to you, taking Pietro’s spot on your right. Pietro made a displeased sound and stood next to Wanda, who was clenching your hand tightly, like she was terrified of letting you go. You were so far out that you didn’t even realize that he was done talking until you felt your right hand be grabbed by a rough one, one that reminded you of words and fights and blood. It was callous and cruel, and your head whipped around to see Brock Rumlow holding the deep red sash, his mouth moving in confidence as he repeated the vows that the priest said. 

“Lady Y/N,” the priest said, and slowly, your veiled face turned his way. “Repeat after me, if you please. No, I do not please. You echoed every word with such monotony that it hurt your own sears. You saw Rumlow’s jaw twitch at your minor defiance. You tilted your head higher. “You may now wrap your hands.” 

You watched him wrap both of your hands together with the thick, red ribbon. Your stomach lurched as you realized that there was no going back after the priest said the next words. You had already been through it once before. Your heart skipped beats in your chest. I’m never going to be free again. This is it. This is my last moment of freedom. My last moment of true happiness has gone with the wind. 

“You may now unshroud your bride, and show her to the awaiting world.” 

§§

The rest of the day passed in a blur. A common girl that Rumlow had nearly thrown your way was refused by you, and when she said that she was required to stay, you made her sit down while Wanda undressed you and put you into the comfortable yet delicate dress that brides wore after their weddings. She had to watch awkwardly as you sobbed in and out of Wanda’s arms, not even caring that she was there. 

The tears were long gone by the feast and the anger had come out to play. Every time your new husband attempted to speak to you, you ignored him. There was a hard look in your eyes as you sat and watched everyone, watching the culture clash between your peaceful people and his rowdy men and women. They were the ones drinking quickly, belching, laughing far too loudly for your taste, and being crude. Your people had separated themselves from them and were talking amongst themselves, no doubt becoming worried because of your demeanor. 

“You’ve only spoken to me once tonight, wife.” You ignored him again. 

It was true. You spoke to him one time, and it was when he told you that Wanda and Pietro couldn't sit at the grand table. According to him, there weren't enough seats at the table that was meant for lords and ladies, and he had brought his own fair share. He didn’t see the twins as anything other than your friends, and so he tried to have them moved over to the corner of the room. You didn’t tolerate that at all. “They’re staying with me,” was all you said, and by the way he tensed up, you were sure that it was going to be a fight. Maybe it was the rage in your eyes that made him back down and nod twice, jaw clenching along with his fists. But indeed, they were beside you, just as silent and angry as you were. 

Natasha hadn’t shown up yet. It was heavily frowned upon for her to miss the celebration, but you weren’t going to force her to come. You knew that if the roles were reversed that you would rather die than see her dressed as a bride and not be your bride. You knew that the situation was eating at her just as much as it was at you. You hated it. 

Part of you was glad that she wasn’t there. You were glad that you wouldn’t be tortured by seeing her so far away but so close, so unattainable that it was laughable that your heart even wanted her. But since she had gotten out of that carriage and you had expected a man, your heart pumped for her. And it always would. 

“Are you enjoying yourself, wife?” Even though you hadn’t heard his voice much, you knew his slimy, self assured tone from anywhere. It sent shivers down your back and a frown to your face as your thoughts were catapulted from the woman you loved straight to the man who you would rather die than be associated with. 

The dress was heavy on your shoulders even though you were sitting down, and your distraught feelings were heavy on your mind. “No.” 

“We’re wed, and now we are powerful.” He said, his goblet of wine reaching out towards the guests, even though only a few were watching your interaction. “Look at us. Two people in deep lov-”

“I really couldn’t care less, Lord Rumlow.” You said, blinking twice once you realized that you had spoken your thoughts aloud. You swallowed some water from your own silver goblet with the time that his shock granted you. “You and I both know that this wasn’t for love, and if you ever suggest that was the reason we were married, I will tell everyone the way you begged for my hand over letters and make sure that you are no longer capable of having an heir.” 

There was another moment of silence from him, and then a scoff. His face was friendly, maybe approachable even, but when you took a shallow look into his eyes, you could see the fury brewing beneath his expression, the anger at being blatantly disrespected- by a woman.  

“Look,” he started, his voice more sinister than you had heard it yet, “we have two major pieces of land together, and a large population  of people under our control. Farmlands and water, it’s ours now. On my own, I was strong. But now that I’ve wed you, I’m fucking untouchable.” He leaned back in his seat and you released a long breath through your nose. His dark eyes were still boring into yours, even as you dared to tilt your head sideways, a show of derision. There was a subtle flash of red. “And I will be damned to hell if I let you disrespect me after I’ve climbed my way from the bottom. Remember that.” 

  You had already had enough. Enough of him, enough of the situation, enough of being told what to do. The first man you married that had turned you from a girl rolling in dirt with pigs into a wealthy lady without even a whisper of your consent was long gone. You would be damned if you let another turn you into a broodmare and an idle chess piece, regardless of the consequences. “And my first husband is dead,” you said, head tilting even more. “Remember that.” 

You couldn’t hide your smirk without the silver goblet. 

******

an: well hi guys haha it’s been a while since this has been updated! i’m so sorry that its been about two months... i hope that someone still loves this story at least! its coming to an end very soon! i hope it all ties together like i want it to, and that it feels resolute to you guys. i’m gonna tag some of y’all!!

taglist!

@yelenabelovasgf​  @msmarvelsmain​ @procrastinatingsapphictrash​ @fayhar​ @8plasma​ @slut-for-nat​ @dontmindmejustreading​ @swords-are-cool​ @200605chaeng​ @thescottishavenger @antidaytime​ @jenny-song​ @madamevirgo​ @natasha-danvers​ @blackxwidowsxwife​ @shycucumbersandwich​ @dailyavengering​

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[ahkaahshi]

how to earn their trust [scenarios]

pairings: miya atsumu; sakusa kiyoomi; akaashi keiji x fem reader

genre: fluff

warning(s): n/a

to earn miya atsumu’s trust, SHOW UP FOR HIM

Atsumu is an incredibly devoted guy who will never make you question his love for you. While he’s known by his brother and a few others close to him for being a liar and has a bad reputation for being selfish, he cares much more about people he’s close to than he lets on. He’ll never let you or his teammates down and, because of this, he needs a s/o who will be there for him, too.

When he asks you to come to his games, it often comes off in a facetious way, since he’s a total showboat and has an air of haughtiness to him. But, in actuality, he craves your support and seriously wants you there because volleyball means a lot to him, and so do you.

Just knowing that you’re there, watching him and cheering for him, gives him a sense of peace and calmness that’s important when he’s playing, since volleyball is such a fast-paced game that makes it nearly impossible for players to have a chance to slow down. Since he shows up for you, he wants you to do the same, which is completely fair.

If you have plans, he’s totally okay with it. You’re a busy student with a lot of stuff on your plate and a life of your own, so if you can’t come due to prior commitments, let him know and he’ll understand. Of course, he’ll tease and whine about it, but that’s just his way of being goofy with you because he knows he’ll be seriously missin’ you.

“Hey, ya comin’ to watch my game on Friday, (f/n)?” he asks, his honey-colored eyes full of hope.

Your heart sinks into your stomach as you answer, “I’m sorry, I’m tutoring all day after school and it’s really important for me to get some extra money, ‘Tsumu.”

Dejection flashes across his face, but he’s quick to hide his disappointment out of fear of upsetting you and out of his own pride. When he notices the creases of worry appear in your forehead from your furrowed brows, he’s quick to throw his arm around your shoulders and announce jokingly, “Ah, ditchin’ me again? I get it! If you don’t wanna spend time with me, jus’ say so ‘n I'll stop invitin’ ya to do fun things, like watch a kick-ass game of volleyball!”

Though he purposely made his comment loud enough for everyone in the gym to hear, his teammates didn’t bother with him, and, instead, continued putting all the equipment away. In spite of this, your face still burned with embarrassment at being teased, making you give Atsumu’s toned chest a light smack.

“I’m jus’ kiddin’! C’mere,” he reassures you, pulling you into a sweaty hug that you initially resist before placing your hands on the back of his soaked t-shirt and reciprocating his sign of affection. “Do whatcha gotta do, smartypants. I’ll see ya at next week’s game, though, right?”

“Of course.”

His grip around you tightens and he nestles his head in the crook of your neck. You can feel him grinning against your skin as he says, “Great! Wear that warm-up sweater of mine you’ve been holdin’ onto, why don’tcha? Looks good on ya.”

However, if you constantly flake on him or keep making excuses not to hang out with him or go to his games, he’ll quickly become disillusioned with you. Your lack of interest that’s apparent to him in the way you always think up reasons not to support or spend time with him will break his heart. As a result, he’ll stop asking you altogether, and his lack of trust in you will surely put your relationship on the rocks. He’s busy but always wants to make time for you, so if you can’t do the same for him, he’s ending the relationship.

to earn sakusa kiyoomi’s trust, RESPECT HIS BOUNDARIES

As we’ve seen, Omi doesn’t like crowds or germs, and, thus, is very strict and serious about the boundaries he sets. Because of this, it is crucial for his s/o to respect his limits and be aware of them. For him, this not only shows that you’re patient, but it also shows that you care deeply about him, which, in turn, will foster a relationship of trust between the two of you.

If he says he’s uncomfortable with doing something or going somewhere, don’t push him; especially early on in your relationship. If he needs space, let him have his space. He’ll come to you when he’s ready. It’s important to know that even if he doesn’t let you into his bubble right away or turns down your signs of affection because he’s worried about germs, he still cares about you. He’s just a bit anxious.

To build his trust, you'll have to work in a gradual manner towards pushing his boundaries and showing him that it’s okay for him to step a bit outside of his comfort zone. If you’re more excitable, touchy, or clingy, you can still be yourself, but you will need to slow down a bit for him. He needs time and love to get comfortable, so patience and commitment to him are important.

He will fall for you so hard if you show him that you want him to feel safe. Examples of this may be wearing the face mask he bought for you when you’re out in public together, bringing extra hand sanitizer or disinfecting wipes on dates for the two of you to use, or changing your bedsheets before he comes over. If you accommodate him, he will 100% do the same for you to make you feel safe and secure.

After you open the front door of your house for him, Sakusa shuffles out of the coldness of the brisk evening air and slides off his shoes. When he looks down at his sneakers sitting amongst the rest of your family’s shoes, he realizes that there’s an extra pair of slippers sitting along with the rest that are considerably larger and differently colored.

“Oh, Kiyo!” you pipe up when you see his charcoal gaze fixate on them, “I got you some slippers of your own since you come over so often! Everyone knows they’re yours so they haven’t been used, or anything.”

Though you can’t see it because he’s still wearing his mask, his lips curl up into the smallest of smiles. When he slides it off, he presses a gentle kiss against your forehead as thanks for the house shoes he slides his feet into before making his way to the kitchen to wash his hands. Once he's finished, you lead him into your room so he can set down his duffel bag and the two of you can settle in for a Netflix marathon, as promised.

Upon entering your room, his olfactory senses are delighted by the clean scent of fresh laundry, which he soon realizes is wafting from your bed. The look of contentment on his face as he takes a deep inhale makes you smile.

“Since you’re staying over, I washed everything,” you announce, “And, also, you left your shirt here by accident yesterday, so I washed that too.” His eyes follow where your finger points to his warm-up shirt laid on the edge of the comforter, neatly folded by your careful hands.

Wordlessly, he makes his way over to you and wraps his arms around you, pulling your body flush against his. With his head hanging by the side of yours, he can smell the shampoo you used on your slightly damp, (h/c) hair. “Thank you,” he murmurs before moving his face down towards yours so he can give you an appreciative kiss.

When you release one another, he rifles through his duffel bag to retrieve a bag of your favorite sweets that he then plops into your hands.

“I stopped by the store on the way to get you some, since you wouldn’t stop complaining about badly you wanted them yesterday.” Turning his gaze to the laptop on your bed, he adds, “We can watch whatever you want.”

“Really?!” you bubble, eyes glowing with excitement, since he always put up a fight about your choice of movie or television show.

He furrows his dark eyebrows at you, making the two distinctive moles above one of them twitch. “Yes. Don’t make me regret this.”

He will not tolerate a s/o who chastises or berates his habits, since they’re ways he creates feelings of security and peace of mind for himself. If you insist on constantly pushing his boundaries, or forcing him to do anything before he’s ready, he’ll ultimately pull away from you. At the end of the day, if he thinks you don’t have much consideration for him and how he feels, he will end the relationship since mutual respect is important to him.

to earn akaashi keiji’s trust, BE YOURSELF AND BE HONEST

Akaashi is the king of delivering the truth, albeit bluntly--but knows how to exercise tact. Because of his commitment to being straightforward and unapologetically Akaashi so that everyone around him can also be themselves, he wants a s/o who will be real with him.

If he does something you don’t like, tell him! If you want to watch a different movie than the one he put on, tell him! If you don’t want Bokuto crashing your date with him for the ten millionth time, tell him. Even if you’re worried about upsetting him! He can handle the truth and will work to remedy the situation, but he won’t stand for lies and dishonesty. Also, if you’re not comfortable with talking about something, just let him know and he’ll be respectful of your wishes.

No matter what you think of yourself, just be you. While he’s attracted to looks, of course, he’s also a huge personality guy. Therefore, he really appreciates people who are just themselves and don’t try to change for the sake of others. I mean, look at how much he loves and trusts Bokuto, and what does that mf do? Be himself!

Akaashi wants to love you for who you are, so let him!

“Hey, Keiji?”

“Yeah?”

You bite your lower lip with hesitation as your (e/c) eyes travel up and down your form in the mirror resting against the wall in your bedroom. The dress you’re wearing is one your doting boyfriend diligently selected for you, but it just doesn’t quite suit you--in terms of both style and fit. “Uh...” you mumble shakily, trying to find a way to reject his gift without being harsh, “this dress is really nice...”

"I sense a but coming,” Akaashi responds, his voice muffled by the door separating the two of you.

You sigh, “But, it’s not really me and it doesn’t really fit that great. I'm sorry. I know you went out of your way to get this for me.”

After opening the door for him so he can inspect how his gift looks on you for himself, he purses his lips before they form a gentle smile. “It’s okay,” he assures you, taking one of your hands in his and meeting your gaze with his gunmetal blue one, “Thanks for being honest with me. I still have the receipt, so I can return it.”

Giving his hand a light squeeze, you reiterate, “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head at you and plants a kiss against your temple, filling your body with warmth. “Don’t be. If anything, I should be the one apologizing for not getting your style or size right even after being with you for, what, three months now?”

His comment makes you giggle, and he relishes in the delightful sounds echoing from your mouth. As he tucks a stray strand of your (h/l), (h/c) hair behind your ear, he offers, “How about you come with me to the mall when I return it so you can help me pick something you actually like?”

A smile graces your lips that makes his heart skip a beat. “Thank you, baby.”

Since he values honesty and authenticity so much, he’ll lose his trust in a s/o who is a habitual liar or who constantly tries to change to fit in. He gets seriously irked by people who are fake, so if he sees you take on an entirely different persona just to gain the favor of other people, or treat him differently based on who you’re around, he’ll be very turned off. And don’t even think about lying to him. Little, white lies he can work with, but keeping secrets from him and not being straightforward with him will break his heart. He’s very forgiving, and will wrack his brain for reasons as to why his s/o might be lying to him, but if he draws a blank or if you cheat on him, he’s done.

[st-kitten]

Kinda Hot In Here, Innit?

Summary: Aokaga in the hot spring after a game.

Warning: Close to smut (if that's a thing).

Seirin High with their overly fatigued team and Touou High with their hotheaded champions found themselves sprawled in the hot springs after a nail-biting game, more, between the aces of each team. They'd thought that this kind of play only happened the first time when the anxiety of surpassing one's own limits was the most palpable. But, even after a friendly rematch (just to settle the grounds for once), neither of the teams had been able to break each other's spirits. What was anticipated to be a heated conclusion had ended with a nerve-racking tie.

'I can't believe this,' muttered Hyuga, crossing his arms swiftly, creating ripples in the water.

'Hate to agree with you,' said Imayoshi, his narrow eyes squinting ever more than usual.

'Will there ever be a conclusion?' asked Hyuga. No one answered.

'No conclusion, only concussion,' whispered Izuki, earning nothing but eye-rolls and hitched breaths from the men.

'Aomine was perfect as always, isn't that right?' remarked Imayoshi, a glare from Hyuga spiting him.

'Hn,' the bluenette hummed.

'What matters is that we had fun playing, right Kagami-kun?' asked Kuroko, turning toward the redhead leaning against the cool rocks of the spring, eyes closed. He had AirPods stuffed into his ears, his phone lying around on a deck, away from the water.

Kagami didn't say anything, so the team assumed he hadn't heard Kuroko or had dozed off. They resumed talking about the match and its peak points. Much to their disappointment, everyone was too exhausted to drag the conversation and decided to visit the sauna.

'Yes, sauna sounds good,' soughed Kiyoshi, massaging his aching back.

'I can't wait to get out of the water,' complained Imayoshi, getting up hastily and accidentally hitting Sakurai, gaining at least ten apologies at a go.

'Yes, the sauna we go, the better,' said Izuki, instantly getting kicked into the water by Hyuga.

Kuroko looked at Kagami, contemplating whether or not he should nudge his friend, but seeing him relaxed in the water changed his mind and he simply followed the rest of them.

Kagami could barely hear the ambient conversation over the music that played in his ears. No matter his ambitious play, at the end of the day, fatigue took over him and he succumbed to the ache latched onto his body. Somedays, he just wanted to lie in one place doing absolutely nothing. The hot water from the springs had seeped into his tired body, allowing him to let loose and forget about the next course of action. For now, he just wanted to unwind the rigidness in his body. Suddenly, he felt the steam hiss in his ears as one of his AirPods was yanked out. Assuming it fell in the water, Kagami jolted upright hands already in the water attempting to grasp it. He was startled to feel a presence tower him.

'What girly shit is this, bakagami?' He recognised the coarse voice instantly. His rival, his equal, Aomine Daiki stood in front of him, one hand on the waist and the other pressing the AirPod in his ears, the music echoing in both, Kagami and Aomine's ears.

'Tch... Give it back, bastard' grumbled Kagami.

'Don't tell me. You like Taylor Swift?' Kagami could hear the taunt in Aomine's voice.

'I- It's- That's on shuffle. Why do you care anyway?' Kagami replied.

'I don't.'

'Why're you here? Go with the others.'

'No.'

'What do you mean, "no"?'

'Exactly what you heard, bakagami. No.'

'Then go sit in the corner. Don't bother me.'

Aomine smirked at the redhead's remark. He'd seen Kagami's rudeness coming from a mile away.

'Sure,' he said, slowly stepping back and leaning on the deck, a couple of feet away from Kagami. He saw him tense, arms tightening to fight the tension he'd took on himself. The idiot plays too hard sometimes, thought Aomine. He'd long confessed to himself that Kagami was a miracle in making, but seeing him take the journey this hard made him want to smack the man into his place. He knew that the same road Aomine took won't guide Kagami up there, but taking things down a notch wouldn't harm him either.

'At least change the song, will you?' he commented.

Kagami's eyebrows quirked and angrily realising that Aomine still had an AirPod embedded in his ear, he grabbed his phone, pressing "next". The last thing he wanted was to be mocked for having a differing music taste by his "rival". He tossed his phone onto the deck and huffed, massaging his shoulder, which seemed to have gotten a cramp.

[cue Mine by Bazzi]

He watched Kagami struggle to release the strain in his shoulder rather comically. Kagami under the public eye was very perplexed and clumsy.

'Tch, you're only making it worse, baka,' he said, strolling toward Kagami, who rolled his eyes and continued to massacre his already exhausted shoulder.

'Turn around.'

'What?'

'Turn around,' said Aomine, twirling his finger in the air, signalling the redhead to do as directed.

Kagami gulped, trying to determine why he'd been asked to do so.

'Why?'

'I'm going to get rid of that stupid cramp in your shoulder. What else?' answered Aomine. His words hit Kagami like several hundred basketballs and he yelled, blushing, 'What the hell, Ahomine? I don't need y-'

Aomine interrupted his sentence by manhandling Kagami by his waist and spun him around. Kagami gripped the tall stone with his arms, trying not to slip and fall.

'What're you-'

'Shh...' Aomine's voice vibrating behind his ears made Kagami shudder a little. He had run out of excuses and timidly waited for Aomine to pull a trick or two. But, instead, he felt calloused hands press on his shoulders, kneading his shoulder blade tenderly, to his surprise. Kagami definitely was not expecting this.

'You play too hard, bakagami. Take it easy.' Aomine's voice shed the usual mischief and sounded more solemn, something Kagami hadn't heard from the ace who destroyed his opponents like squashing a grape with two fingers.

Kagami scoffed but didn't reply. He wasn't prepared to have that kind of conversation with Aomine. But, he did agree, Aomine's hands had a way to ease the pain in his shoulders and slowly release the knots packed in the muscle. He didn't know why he was enjoying this contact, in a hot spring, with only a pair of boxers on, and with a crowd of people right next to the water, who'd take any chance to tease him were they to see the scene. He soon felt comfortable and let his shoulders fold under Aomine's touch.

Aomine saw and felt him relax and smirked to himself. All Kagami needed was a little push. Or fifty of them. It was then when he finally noticed how well-built Kagami actually was. All those years of hefty practice and grit had served him well. He could feel the sculpted muscles play along with his massage. Kagami's arms, which were propped against the boulder looked even more humongous in the dim light at night. If he didn't know better, he'd also call it hot. Kagami... was hot. Aomine almost choked at his thoughts, but there was no use denying them. As if he wasn't massaging Kagami's nearly naked body by his own will and secretly liking the way he arched his back whenever Aomine ran his thumbs across the redhead's spine. It made him wonder how Kagami would react to being touched in other places.

He was answered rather graciously when Kagami half-sighed, half-moaned as Aomine kneaded a rather rigid spot. More than happy to continue, Aomine chuckled into his ear, 'Glad you're having a good time.'

'Sh-Shut up, bastard.'

'Or what?'

'Or th-' Kagami turned around, temporarily breaking contact with the bluenette, facing him. Aomine simply stretched his arms over Kagami's shoulders and locked his hands behind his neck.

'Yes?' His smirk grew wider at the sight of another blush creeping on Kagami's face.

'What's the big idea, bas-'

'Quite the idiot, aren't you?' Aomine stopped him mid-sentence, inching closer to him.

Kagami halted in his tracks, physically and mentally, feeling Aomine's scent trickling through his nose, dampening his senses. His gaze automatically lay upon Aomine's smirking lips. He licked his own lips reflexively, not knowing why. He was tempted to take a small risk, but like the idiot he was, he simply froze and stared at Aomine's mouth like a deer stuck in the headlights.

'Want to get a closer look?' Aomine whispered, moving as close as he could get without touching the redhead's mouth. He could feel Kagami quiver, goosebumps rising on the neck Aomine had locked his hands behind. Kagami had wanted to reject the boiling urge to slam his lips onto Aomine's, but he got beat to it as he felt soft lips peck his mouth. Like a vintage television snapping shut with monochrome static broadcasting itself, Kagami's mind exploded into pieces and before he could fathom what was happening, he felt Aomine press his lips slightly harder, locking onto Kagami's perfectly, obstructing any escape. Kagami surrendered to the kiss and let himself go with the flow. He kissed him back, and not wanting to stand there like a stick, held Aomine by his lean waist. He could feel the bluenette smirk even when he was engrossed in pecking his lips. Aomine slid his tongue against Kagami's teeth demanding entrance, which Kagami gladly provided. Their tongues waltzed together in sensual sync, eliciting swoons from the two men. Aomine held Kagami's neck, the other hand pushing him against the boulder, their torsos meeting. Aomine's slender front fit perfectly with Kagami's bulky build.

'Hngh,' Kagami groaned and snaked his hands up to the bluenette's locks, gripping his head, wanting to never let go.

Waste this night away with me, you're mine!

Like slippery dolphins, their bodies moved against each other in the water, their hips craving the to and fro a bit too much in their tightened boxers. They could feel themselves respond to the intimacy, but neither wanted to eject the carnal desires out of their minds yet. The gradation of intensity augmented and they kissed each other in a frenzy, bestowing sloppy, wet, and impatient kisses upon each other, hungrily tearing apart the veneer of reluctance.

Aomine was drowning in astonishment seeing Kagami's response and could only strike back stronger. He pressed Kagami once more, letting go of his warm lips and making his way to his neck, letting his animal instinct drive the momentum. Kagami felt himself look up naturally, leaving Aomine a playground to work on. His grip on Aomine's waist grew firmer. Feeling his neck getting sucked on by the alluring man he'd let approach him this way felt a thousand times better than he'd envisioned in the mere seconds of their contact. As a response, Kagami tugged at his hair a little too harshly, making him grunt and pull away. But it didn't last long as they both found their way back to each others' lips, tongues gliding against one another. Long gone were the hesitancy and the rivalry. Aomine and Kagami kissed each other with the same passion they'd played against each other with, which was perhaps, what made them accept each other this way. To the world, it hadn't been more than a few minutes, but to them, it had felt like languorous hours, their hearts beating rapidly, hands in a battle to hold the other tighter, and lips claiming each other their own.

Aomine pulled away, panting ever so slightly, a thread of warm saliva tying the two together. He dared to look at the redhead once and the look he saw in Kagami's eyes drove him wild within an instant. He looked at him with an appetite, a thirst that Aomine instantly recognised as his own. He felt the same, he thought. A tinge of happiness overpowered the sense of relief. Kagami too knew at the back of his mind, that he wasn't an idiot to have thought so.

The distant chatter of Seirin and Touou high dismantled their moment and they pulled away from each other, Aomine putting the AirPod back in Kagami's hands, the ones which had ravished him seconds ago. He climbed out of the spring, holding the thick towel near his waist, covering the blemish implanted by Kagami's fingers. He walked inside the changing room leaving a flustered redhead smiling like a high school girl, controlling the urge to squeal. Kagami let out the breath he'd been holding and shuddered as the crisp air hit his abdomen, getting up and heading toward the sauna to meet up with his team, clutching his phone tight, the song changing to the next.

Kuroko waved at him, not noticing his red cheeks and the fact that all his tension had disappeared. Touou's team burst into the streets, exiting the hot springs, engaging in yet another conversation. Their ace, however, walked behind the group, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket, earphones blocking the loud chatter of his teammates, and Taylor Swift musically reminding him of a certain redhead.

The TS song in the fic is Long Live (Pirated Version cuz we're waiting for Speak Now TV).