#but even then when he speaks its always focused on what youre feeling and never what hes thinking :-(

[seiwas]

This is a snippet from the complete fic here!

You don’t know how Kirishima does it, being all… him all the time.

A part of you always thinks you don’t deserve it—how he meets you with tender understanding when you can’t even muster a smile.

You should be dealing with this on your own.

By yourself.

Not with him having to stay home a while longer instead of starting his morning in the gym, where he can enjoy the rare time he has to himself.

You feel terrible.

“Sorry, it’s nothing, just—” you sigh, pressing your palms to your eyes. Your hands are still damp from washing the dishes.

Kirishima’s presence has always been hard to miss—big, bright, and entirely all-comforting. He crosses the kitchen island to get to you now, hand reaching for the back of your head as he pushes you gently towards his chest.

It’s that familiar presence that makes you feel like crying right now.

“Hey, hey,” he shushes, his other hand rubbing up and down your lower back, “it’s okay.”

He’d already gotten ready for the gym when he heard the clatter, rushing out to the kitchen with his protein shaker in one hand and gym bag over his shoulder. You’d toppled over the dish soap and groaned out in frustration, watching the liquid ooze down the drain along with every bit of your self-composure.

It was one of those things; one of those days—that feeling you’ve been having lately triggered by the simplest, most unrelated occurrence.

Kirishima doesn’t say anything, just lets his heartbeat do the talking. Steady, grounding, like a weighted blanket wrapped around the whole of you.

He’s not going to be able to squeeze in a gym session before work if he stays with you any longer like this.

“You should go soon,” you mumble, voice muffled against his chest, the dri-fit material of his muscle tank cool against your forehead.

“In a bit,” he whispers, only holding you closer.

[ninikrumbs]

what gave it away?

Satoru gojo x dense reader. fluff.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest, the honored one. The world practically shifted on its axis the moment he was born. Curses feared him, fellow sorcerers respected him, and women swoon at the mere sight of him. He is indispensable in the battle field and the head of one of the three prominent families in the Jujutsu World meaning he was rich beyond his means. Yet to your bewilderment, here he was, standing in your little kitchen, cooking an omelet for you, with fresh coffee ready in the pot. The morning light made his snowy hair look radiant, his eyes glowing, and a small smile decorating his lips. He looked absolutely ethereal.

A hand on the hip of his luxury pants, another on your cute pastel pink spatula, eyes so focused on his task before he saw you eyeing him at the corner of his eyes. Instantly all his focus directed to you, a gentle smile forming on his face. And it was a type of smile that reached his eyes, nothing but pure contentment grace his beautiful features. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

You felt something clicked in your head, but like a missing puzzle piece you didn’t even know you were looking for. Almost speechless, you mumbled a low good morning back.

“Morning.” you eye him suspiciously as you slowly sat down on the bar stool in front of your kitchen island. He did not seem to notice your sudden perplexities of him as you studied him intently.

"Satoru, why are you here?” you asked hesitantly, propping your hands on your chin.

He looked at you, blue eyes puzzled as he turned off the stove. “What do you mean? I vaguely remember offering to cook you breakfast yesterday. Did ya forget?”

You shake your head. “No, I meant why are you cooking breakfast for me?”

Confusion and worry graced his features as he gazed at you intently, his eyes wandering all of over your face. “Are you okay? Feeling sick?”

His hand flew to your forehead before replacing it with his own forehead. You pulled away from his close proximity, your cheeks burning before clumsily saying “That is not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

You sighed. The sight of Gojo in his teachers uniform in your kitchen was a common occurrence, but it hasn't occurred to you until now about the why. Why is he in your kitchen during the mornings, cooking you breakfast? Why is he randomly giving you flowers,cause he thought you would like them? Why would he drop a mission for you because he thought you were sick?

You always thought that Gojo's act of services were just the results of a life long friendship built on mutual respect and trust, and of course you liked to think you did care and love each other on a platonic level, but could it be something else?

The late night visits after his missions, the endless souvenirs, the unabashed physical affection. His sulky moments when you don’t give him your attention and how he always tries to make you happy. Were you really this dense?

Your head tilted to the side, pure and utter disbelief in your voice as you speak, “You’re in love with me.”

Surprise passed his features. His bright azure eyes wide, and jaw falling slightly slacked. He was silent for a moment, before giving a low chuckle. “What gave it away?”

Now, It was your turn to be taken aback. He wasn’t even trying to denying it, in fact he looked relieved like a weight was lifted off his shoulder. His lips curved into a teasing smile, but his eyes. Oh his eyes, they were full of unfiltered adoration.

“You are?” You breathed in disbelief. Did he really shower you with his love all this time without ever knowing that it was gonna be reciprocated?

He huffed a laugh before making his way to you, squeezing himself between your thighs and pressed his forehead against yours. “For a couple of years now, thought you’d never notice.”

[matsunoluvr]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ how clingy sylus copes with your absence

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking

characters: sylus

link to master list here!!!

authors notes: so basically we all love clingy!sylus and i don’t think people talk about it enough, so i here i try to do him some justice </3

i tried not to mischaracterise him, but i find it difficult to imagine how he’d react. he’s a full fledged adult - 27/28 years old - so i can see him trying to be mature about it. but after a while, it gets hard to wait any longer no?

more below the cut!! :3

first few days of your absence sylus is fine, i mean it’s one day - people get busy, people get tired. sylus understands better than most that life gets tough.

he checks his messages maybe two or three times to see if you’ve responded, but nothing. that’s okay, he’ll wait for you.

after five-ish days he’s a little irritated, how could you forget about him for that long?

yeah you could be busy, but seriously?

he gives you a call but it sends straight to voicemail, to which he refuses to leave one.

i bet he secretly feels a little embarrassed at how much your absence is bothering him, and out of spite he refuses to check his phone during the day.

“Tsk, ignoring me?”

luke and kieran definitely notice his small shift in attitude - his nonchalant facade isn’t perfect after all.

they are also secretly cursing you for disappearing, i mean come on! how could you leave them with an angry boss!!

another few days pass, how long has it been since he last saw you? a week?

gets fidgety and cracks, calling you again - no reply.

when he gets sent to voicemail he speaks in his typical, slow tone.

“Why aren’t you picking up my calls, kitten? Get back to me when you listen to this.”

despite his seemingly calm voice, he’s starting to really lose his cool. your absence was unsettling, and yeah he’s disappeared before for a few days on business, he at least picks up calls.

he never leaves you clueless for even a few days, let alone a whole week.

mephisto is sent out for surveillance of the n109 zone, and sylus keeps his phone close. always in his vision, hearing range, whatever.

every notification catches his attention, eyes snapping to the illuminated screen only to slowly drag away when he sees it isn’t you.

from the first to second week of your absence, his irritability shoots up. sylus is getting agitated, brushing it off as annoyance.

after all, what the fuck did he do for you to ignore him for this long?

he texts you almost every day now, the texts getting increasingly shorter, decreasingly floral and more concerned.

“Kitten, why aren’t you picking up my calls?”

“[YN], are you really ignoring me?”

“Hello? Are you okay?”

“Call me.”

he’s calling you every other day now, his sleeping schedule is deteriorating and his mind isn’t focused.

sylus is getting angry at himself, why is he so messed up about this? so what if you haven’t spoken to him in 13 days, isn’t it pathetic to be so affected by your absence?

he lived 27+ years without you, he can live another hundred without.

yet he still finds himself rearranging the plushies you two caught together, checking for your messages, scrolling through your posts.

almost a month has passed since your disappearance, and sylus isn’t getting any better.

why did you go? are you okay? did you get hurt?

god forbid something happened to you.

he’s hired some people to search for you, fuck waiting he’s worried.

finds himself drinking more alcohol with his meals than usual, to the point where even he - a heavy weight - feels his head becoming a little dizzy, his hands twitching for his phone.

one night, after downing a bottle of wine himself, he calls you at least five times, before leaving a voicemail.

his voice lacks its usual slow, bored tone. instead his words are a little slurred, his voice seems a little higher pitched - not too much but it is noticeable - and he’s speaking a little faster too.

“[YN]? Where are you, are you okay? Please pick up, it’s been a month. Do you really- have I deterred you? I know you dislike me, have you ran away? If you have, then at least tell me you’re alive. I mi-”

he catches himself before he says it, because he’s just realised something, something that was so blatantly obvious he feels shocked that he hadn’t noticed it

he misses you, he isn’t angry. he isn’t annoyed that you disappeared, he’s upset.

the fact that it took so long for him to realise is stupid, and all he can do it sit and chuckle drunkenly to himself.

“I miss you, [YN]. Please call me back.”

when you finally call him - exactly 43 days since you left - he almost scrambles to his phone

sylus picks up immediately, yet miraculously finds himself at a loss for words. what does someone say after over a month of waiting?

kind of just stands there, frozen - if you wait before speaking you can hear his almost shaky breaths

“Hey Sylus, you miss me? You left over 13 voicemails and 65 texts, I’m touched.”

gods your voice smoothed over his tense muscles like honey

he sits down, heart beating faster than usual. it’s stupid how much hearing your voice affected him, but he couldn’t help the way his body relaxed at the sound.

if he was a dog his tail would be wagging so fucking hard

“Come here, now.”

when you do arrive, you seriously expect to get killed or something. his tone sounded seriously pissed - i mean like the most pissed you’ve ever heard it

but when you open the door you just get swallowed into a chest and a pair of arms

if you try to move away or struggle, they just hold you tighter and restrict your actions and- oh, sylus is hugging you.

his face is angled down into your head, and you can’t see his expression - only the beating of his heart against you, and it was fast.

“Where the fuck were you? I missed you.”

explain whatever the hell you want to sylus, he’s already decided that you’re not going out without him knowing ever again

probably tries to download some sort of GPS tracker on your hunter’s watch to make sure he knows where you are

TLDR; sylus doesn’t realise how much he really cares for you until you go MIA for over a month in which he starts to genuinely tweak out! :3

AN; guys i actually spat this out in like an hour i think i might have clingy!sylus brain rot because oh my god anyways this isn’t proof read i just needed to express my love for clingy!sylus that gets worried because he isn’t just a dominant badass gang leader he’s also human and he also gets sad and upset and feels emotions argahdbansn he just sucks at recognising his own desires (get it because his evol eye can see other people’s desires but he can’t see his own :3)

[nkplanet]

ELECTRIC [ih-lek-trik] adjective. electrifying; thrilling; exciting; stirring

dean x fem!reader cw suggestive making out, nicknames (sweetheart, his girl, darlin’), swearing, minor spoilers for s3/4? (hell) wc 746 cross posted on ao3

summary to dean, you’ve never looked better than when you’re covered in blood and sweat after a hunt notes this is 100% self indulgent. i need this man like i need oxygen

dean knew, deep down, that you could handle yourself. you were a big girl with an even bigger gun - anything in its right mind would fear you.

still, that didn’t stop him pacing anxiously while he and sam waited for you to finish the hunt. it was one of the more simple hunts they’d had in a while; a witch was luring men to a house deep in the woods where they’d be put under a spell the second they stepped foot inside.

dean would honestly rather have been completely pliant under the witches thumb than let you go in alone, but you and sam were adamant.

waiting for you felt like a lifetime, and he’d lost count of how many times he’d heard sam tell him to “just sit down” but he couldn’t, not while his girl was in there alone. even sam was beginning to get a little antsy before you finally emerged.

you were panting, covered in blood splatters (dean hoped none of it was yours) and sweat.

to dean, you’d never looked hotter.

he was so entranced by you that he almost missed you recapping your fight to sam, instead watching you effortlessly clean off your blade and gun and feeling his jeans get a little tighter.

“dean,” you said, clicking in front of his face, “you good?”

he smirked. “yeah, sweetheart. i’m good.”

“you’re disgusting,” sam mumbled almost immediately, heading off to the impala.

dean looked you up and down and you raised an eyebrow. “what about me looking this gross turns you on? i’m covered in some random witches blood, my own blood, and dirt and god knows what else-” you started, but dean took a few steps towards you and your words died in your throat.

“sweetheart,” he drawled, the southern twang in his voice heavy, “you always - always - look hotter than hell. and trust me, i’ve been there.”

he moved closer, one hand hovering at your waist. “may i?” he asked, his voice low and thick.

“please,” you all but whined in return, not trusting yourself to speak more.

dean’s hand landed on your waist, and your body lit on fire. he moved impossibly closer, your lips meeting his in the middle as electricity exploded between you.

kissing dean was like nothing you’d ever felt before. his lips were soft, softer than you’d thought (and you’d definitely thought about them before). he was gentle at first, but as you deepened the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth, he grew more passionate, rougher, almost like he couldn’t control himself, fighting you for dominance.

he pushed you against the side of the house, body flush against yours. one of his hands was still stuck to your waist while the other roamed your body, mapping out your hips, your ass, your waist in his mind.

you moaned as he tried desperately to get closer to you, deepening the kiss even more. you could feel everything - his chest, his abs, the bulge in his jeans (that made you smile into the kiss - you knew the effect you had on him, but feeling it was something else). you ran your hands up his stomach, feeling up his chest before they eventually settled at the nape of his neck. you tugged at his hair a little, eliciting a groan from the man in front of you.

“fuck, y’can’t do that to me, darlin’,” he said, breaking the kiss.

to him, you looked stunning. your pupils were blown out, lips swollen, and face flushed.

from your point of view, things didn’t look much different. dean looked positively angelic, eyes half lidded and focused only on you, hair a mess, panting hard.

you were about to lean in again, chasing more of the passion, the electricity that flowed between the two of you, when dean’s phone rang. he groaned, checking the id.

“sam,” he supplied, briefly flashing you his phone screen.

“we should head back,” you said, still breathless.

“let’s continue this later then, sweetheart.”

you made your way to the impala where sam was waiting, an impatient yet knowing look on his face. you climbed into baby, not saying a word.

sam didn’t see you on the ride back, adjusting your jeans and sitting with your legs crossed the whole time.

dean, however, did. his thoughts were already drifting to getting a second motel room before, but now it was first on his to-do list when you got back.

[ms-dead-inside]

Okay, but hear me out:

Murder baby Damian, but for whatever reason, his first attempt at Tim's life is put on pause, so they never have that interaction. Instead, before Damian can come up with a new plan, Tim (who's kinda excited he now isn't the baby of the family) offers to train him in detective work for when Damian finally gets the mantle of 'Robin' as a way to bond with him.

"Why train your enemy, Drake?"

"We're brothers, not enemies. Besides, Robin has always been a mantle to pass down. I'm certainly not going to keep it in my twenties or thirties. And other than Bruce, I'm the best detective in the family."

"Very well, Drake, I shall accept your tutelage for the time being."

Damian accepts, of course. Not only can he study Drake for his weaknesses, he will also improve his own skill set. It's worth the wait for Robin. By the time Damian's done, there will be no doubt that he is the superior bat.

Unfortunately, he actually grows fond of Timothy. While he will inevitably get close with Richard, just like in canon, Timothy is a breath of fresh air for when Richard is being too overbearing, especially when it comes to things like 'socializing,' and 'making friends.'

When his father dies, and Timothy declared him actually lost to time, Richard doesn't believe him, can't believe him, because the hope is too painful. Timothy still gives Damian Robin, because, "I'm barely holding on as Batman as it is. I can't handle Robin being gone for potentially months at a time, halfway around the world."

During his partnership with Richard, truly becoming his brother-son, Richard introduces the ideas of pets to him. Damian loves animals, and having and taking care of a creature that could potentially survive on its own, but will have a much better quality of life under his care, speaks to him. He has Alfred and Titus and about half a dozen other stray animals that usually stay for about a week while he nurses them to health at any given moment, but he feels like he should officially have another pet.

Que the whole thing with his grandfather, and Timothy getting kicked out of the top of a skyscraper. He comes home with proof, and the Justice League brings his father home. And as Dick basically refuses to let anyone leave the mansion for the foreseeable future, Damian realizes several facts:

1.) Timothy is a human, and humans are animals.

2.) While Timothy has somehow survived until now, he wouldn't recognize self-care if it slapped him in the face.

3.) Timothy's quality of life will improve if someone is taking care of him because he cannot be trusted to do it for himself. (Is it a coincidence that he loses organs when he is away from the family? Damian thinks not.)

4.) Damian has gotten good at taking care of animals.

Ergo, Timothy is now Damian's pet. Tim doesn't know what to do and simply humors him. Besides, it's nice when someone actually bothers to give him a plate of foods that he likes when he gets hyper focused on work and forgets to eat. That, and while he is exasperated every time Damian tranqs him, those are still the best sleeps of his life.

Jason finds it hilarious. Damian doesn't understand Richard or his father's reactions.

"Damian, Tim can take care of himself."

"Barely. Father, now that I am in charge of his sleep schedule, there aren't as many dark circles under his eyes. Even Alfred has commented that Timothy consumes less caffeine."

"Damian, he can't be your pet."

"Why not?"

"Tim's your brother; he's family."

"So are you saying that Alfred and Titus aren't family?"

[hoe4hotchner]

Child abductions | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader | WC: 1.1k  | CW: Angst, no use of Y/N.| Summary: Hotch yells at you and you get sad and a little scared so you retreat. Hotch come to apoligize once he cools down. |

A/N: This is kind of inspired byt Hotch and his little temper tantrums in Gabby…. God I love when he gets angry.

It had been a long case. The kind that gnawed at your spirit and left a dark weight hanging in the air. A child had gone missing. The team had been running on fumes for days, chasing down every lead with increasing desperation. Hotch had been especially on edge, cases with children always hit him the most, the pressure weighing heavily on his shoulders. Every dead end, every false lead - he took it all personally.

You knew he cared deeply for every case, but this one was hitting him harder than usual - even more so for a child abduction case. The little girl’s face was plastered across every screen, her eyes a constant reminder of what was at stake. You’d been there, trying to support him as best as you could, offering quiet reassurance when he needed it. But you knew it wasn’t easy to get through to him when he was like this - focused, intense, burdened by the responsibility of finding her in time.

You’d seen him upset before - frustrated, tired, worn down from the endless stress of your work - but this was different. The raw fury in his voice when he’d been interrogating the unsub had left everyone on edge, including you. When the team returned to the precinct, there was a heaviness in the air as Hotch began debriefing. His voice was sharp, cutting through the tension in a way that made everyone stand a little straighter.

You tried to be helpful, stepping in with a small observation about the evidence, your voice gentle but sure. Before you even finished speaking, though, Hotch snapped.

“Not now!” he barked, his eyes blazing with an anger that wasn’t meant for you. “Just - stop. I don’t need you interrupting right now.”

The sudden harshness of his words cut through you like ice, freezing you in place. You stood there, stunned, feeling the weight of his anger crash over you like a wave. He had never raised his voice at you like that before. Your heart pounded in your chest, your throat tightening as you nodded quietly, retreating from the room without a word. You didn’t want to make a scene, but the sharp sting of his outburst lingered, burning in the pit of your stomach.

The team fell silent, watching you go, but no one dared to say anything. They could tell Hotch was too far gone in his anger to realize what he’d just done.

You found a quiet corner away from everyone, sitting down as you tried to calm your racing heart. You couldn’t stop the thoughts from swirling in your mind - Hotch had never spoken to you like that, and the way his voice had cracked with frustration scared you in a way you hadn’t expected. He had always been your steady, composed rock. Seeing him like this, so consumed by his anger, made you feel small like you’d done something wrong even though you hadn’t.

Time passed in a blur as you sat there, staring blankly at the floor, trying to push the hurt away. It was hard to shake the sting of his words, though, and harder still to quiet the nervous flutter in your chest every time you thought of facing him again.

It wasn’t until later, when the case was starting to wrap up and the tension in the precinct had lifted, that Hotch realized what he’d done. The anger had drained out of him, leaving only exhaustion in its wake, and as he replayed the events of the day in his mind, his heart sank. He remembered snapping at you - remembered the look in your eyes, how you’d gone silent and withdrawn so quickly. It hit him like a punch to the gut.

He searched the precinct, looking for you, dread building with every step. When he finally found you, you were sitting alone, your arms wrapped around yourself like you were trying to make yourself smaller. His heart clenched at the sight.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping into the room. His voice was gentle now, but you stiffened at the sound of it, your eyes darting up to meet his before quickly dropping back to the floor. “Can I… Can we talk?”

You didn’t respond at first, your hands gripping the edge of the chair like you weren’t sure what to do. He could see the sadness etched on your face, the way your shoulders were tense, and it broke something inside him.

He crossed the room slowly, careful not to crowd you. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean it. You didn’t deserve that—none of it. I was angry, and I took it out on you. That was wrong.”

You swallowed, your throat tight. “You’ve never… you’ve never yelled at me like that before,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “I didn’t know what to do.”

The pain in your voice was like a knife to his heart, and he knelt down in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “I know,” he said, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you understood. “I was an idiot. I never want to hurt you like that again. You mean too much to me.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the regret in his eyes. The weight of his apology settled over you, easing some of the hurt in your chest. Slowly, you nodded, your body relaxing just a little.

“I just… I didn’t know what I’d done wrong,” you admitted, your voice small. “It scared me.”

Hotch’s expression softened, and he reached up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he murmured. “I let my emotions get the better of me, and I’m so sorry. You’re the last person I would ever want to hurt.”

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, the silence between you softening as the tension eased. You leaned into his touch, your heart finally starting to slow, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he said quietly, his voice full of sincerity. “I’m here, and I’m not going to let anything come between us. Not even my own stupidity.”

A small, shaky smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and you nodded, letting yourself sink into the comfort of his presence. “I love you too.”

Hotch pulled you into his arms, holding you close, and you felt the last of the fear and sadness melt away. You weren’t afraid anymore, not with him holding you like this. And as the two of you sat there in the quiet, you knew that no matter what, you would always find your way back to each other.

[reiding-writing]

Hey queenie 😝 I LOVE ur stuff and i was just wondering if we could get some more cold!reader being a big ol’ softie when it comes to spencerrr! Love uuuuuu 💗😘

SOFT-SERVE — SPENCER REID!

spencer reid hates germs. so why should he have to deal with them?

spencer reid x cold!reader | 1.4k | fluff | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n — we’re broaching romanceeeee

You stand there, eyes scanning the bustling scene in front of you, your arms crossed tightly against your chest as you keep your distance.

There’s nothing new about it — you’ve always preferred the edges, the corners, the spaces where you can observe without truly engaging. Detached, maybe, but it’s how you function. How you cope. You’re good at it. You have to be.

The others are busy doing what they do best, wrapping up the loose threads with officers and family members to round out the case.

Spencer is deep in conversation with one of the local detectives, his voice calm but urgent, a rare mix of focused intelligence and careful consideration that you both admire and feel detached from. You’ve never needed the sort of constant back-and-forth that he thrives on, but you can’t deny the way his presence grounds you.

It’s something you won’t admit aloud, but it's there. Underneath your cool, stoic exterior. A fact that's wrapped up so tightly inside of you, it's almost like a secret.

And right now, as Spencer shakes hands with the detective, you can’t help but feel a little tug of concern. You might be indifferent on the outside, but you know one thing about Spencer—the man hates germs. You’ve seen it, observed it from a distance, and maybe, it’s part of why you’ve made it your mission to take care of him, even if you don't show it in obvious ways.

As the handshake comes to an end, Spencer wipes his palm against his trousers, a subtle wince on his face. It’s a small gesture, but you know exactly what it means. He’s freaking out inside.

Without a second thought, you slip your hand into the front pocket of your jacket, pulling out the familiar bottle of hand sanitiser.

You can almost hear his internal monologue as he stands there, awkwardly fumbling with his own hands, trying to rid himself of the perceived contamination. You know it’s not even the detective’s fault — it’s just the way Spencer is. A man of brilliant intellect with an almost paralysing aversion to germs.

You don’t speak a word as you approach him, holding his hand flat upwards, your fingers cool and detached as you squirt a generous amount of sanitiser into his palm.

“Here,” you say, your voice smooth, unaffected. Detached. He looks up at you with a grateful expression that’s as close to warmth as he’ll allow himself to show in public. You try not to notice how the soft smile on his face makes something inside of you shift, like an ice cube melting in the sun.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, not bothering to hide his relief. You watch as he rubs the sanitiser into his palms, a small sigh of satisfaction escaping his lips.

Morgan, who had been observing from a distance, walks up with a smirk on his face. You already know he’s about to make a comment, and you're not wrong.

“You’re carrying sanitiser around now?” Morgan chuckles, his eyes flicking between you and Spencer. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve become Reid’s butler,”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a faint trace of a smile tugging at your lips, a rare moment of softness. “Someone’s got to do it,” you reply coolly, but it’s clear that Morgan isn’t buying your act. He knows you better than that.

“Sure, sure,” Morgan continues, grinning. “Cold as ice on the outside, but you’re just a big softie when it comes to pretty boy, huh?”

You meet his gaze, your expression as impassive as ever, but your heartbeat betrays you. Morgan can see through you. He always has. You’ve never been able to fully hide your feelings around him.

“You’re imagining things, Morgan,” you respond, but your voice lacks its usual edge. You turn away before he can press further, your heart racing for reasons you refuse to acknowledge.

You’d like to think you’re doing just fine. Detached, cool, untouchable. But Spencer, with his nervous little quirks and brilliant mind, has a way of slipping past all your carefully constructed walls. And you can't explain it. Not to yourself. Not to anyone else.

The rest of the team continues working, and you stand back, keeping your distance. But your eyes keep drifting to Spencer. To the way he talks to the others, his hands making subtle gestures as he speaks, his brow furrowing in concentration, the way his hair falls slightly over his eyes. You’ve always noticed these little things, even though you don’t let anyone else see how much they affect you.

Spencer catches your gaze for a moment, offering you a small, almost shy smile, and something inside of you tightens. You could look away. You could easily turn your attention elsewhere. But you don’t.

You don’t.

It’s this unspoken understanding between you and him, one that doesn’t need words. He’s smart, too smart sometimes, and maybe that’s why you never have to pretend with him. He doesn’t need you to be warm. He doesn’t need you to be soft, even though he’s the one who brings that side of you out more than anyone else ever could.

But just for today, just for this one moment, you allow yourself to feel the soft spot you’ve carved for Spencer, the one that only he seems to get to touch. You pull your jacket tighter around yourself, a quiet shield against the world.

He notices, of course. He always does. But today, he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. He just watches you with a knowing look in his eyes — that look that says he understands you, even when you don’t think anyone can. It’s why you find yourself caring more than you’d like to admit.

The day wears on, the team moves forward, and Spencer remains the same, cool and collected on the outside but slightly less so as he avoids shaking anyone else's hand.

You don’t say anything to him; you don’t need to. You’ve already done what you could. You’ve already taken care of him in the only way you know how — quietly, without fanfare, without needing any thanks or attention for it.

Later that evening, when the team is headed back to the jet, you find yourself walking next to Spencer. The others are further ahead, talking in their usual, easygoing way. But you and Spencer, you keep to the edge, where the silence between you is comfortable, a little less heavy than it was before.

Spencer’s voice breaks the silence. “Hey, I really appreciate what you did back there,” he says softly. You can feel his gaze on you, but you don’t look at him. You keep your eyes forward, as always.

“It’s no big deal,” you reply, your voice indifferent, but there’s a softness in your tone that you can’t completely hide.

Spencer lets out a quiet laugh. “It kind of is, though,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Thank you,”

You don’t respond immediately. You don’t have to. The words hang in the air between you, unspoken, but understood. Maybe you’re not as cold as you pretend to be. Maybe there’s a warmth in you that only Spencer can bring out.

But for now, you don’t need to say anything. It’s enough that you’re here together, walking through the quiet night, your steps synchronised and his fingers brushing against your thigh.

For the first time in a long while, you allow yourself the luxury of imagining what it might be like, to let Spencer all the way in.

But for now, you let him stay at arm’s length, even as your heart warms to the idea.

[mindless-existence1]

First kiss w shadow? Would the reader have to be the first one who does it, or is it him?? How would it even go down 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Enjoy, thanks for sending and ask ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The soft evening glow filtered through the window, casting a warm light on the room. You and Shadow had spent the past couple of hours together, a comfortable quiet settling between you as you talked, played a casual game, and just... existed in each other’s company.

It was always like this with Shadow—calm yet charged with an unspoken energy that neither of you ever quite addressed. You weren’t oblivious to the way he sometimes glanced at you when he thought you weren’t looking, or how his usual stoic demeanor softened around you.

And you couldn’t deny the way your heart raced whenever he was close. Tonight felt different, though. Shadow had been quiet for a while now, sitting next to you on the couch, his arms resting on his thighs as he leaned forward slightly.

He looked deep in thought, his crimson eyes focused on the floor. “Hey, you okay?” you asked, nudging him lightly with your elbow.He glanced at you, his gaze lingering just a little too long before he quickly looked away.

“Yeah. I just... I wanted to tell you something,” he said, his voice steady but quieter than usual.You tilted your head, curious. “What is it?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he was searching for the right words. You could see the faintest hint of red creeping up the tips of his ears, and it made your heart skip a beat. Shadow? Flustered? That was new.

“I’ve been...” He paused again, clenching his fists slightly before letting them relax. “I’ve been meaning to say this for a while, but...” His words trailed off, and his gaze darted to you briefly before falling to the floor again.

“Shadow,” you said softly, leaning a little closer. “It’s just me. You can tell me anything, you know that.” That seemed to make it worse. His ears flattened slightly, and his blush deepened.

“It’s not... that simple,” he muttered. You could practically see the internal battle he was waging with himself, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing. Shadow, the Ultimate Lifeform, was struggling to find the words.

As he tried again to speak, his body seemed to act on its own. Slowly, unconsciously, he leaned toward you, his crimson eyes flickering to your lips for just a second before darting away again.

Your breath hitched as the space between you shrank. You could feel the tension crackling in the air, and your heart raced in your chest. It was clear what he wanted to say, even if the words wouldn’t come out.

And as his face drew closer to yours, his eyes searching yours for some kind of permission or reassurance, you decided to close the distance for him.

Gently, you cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against the soft fur of his cheeks. His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he froze, his gaze locking onto yours. “Shadow,” you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You don’t have to say it.” Then, before he could respond, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft and tentative at first, but it didn’t take long for Shadow to respond.

His hands found their way to your waist, holding you gently as he leaned into you, his usual stoicism melting away in the warmth of the moment. When you finally pulled back, his cheeks were an even deeper shade of red, and his eyes were wide, but there was a softness in them you’d never seen before.

“I...” He cleared his throat, his voice quieter than usual. “I was trying to say that I...”You chuckled, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “I know,” you said, cutting him off gently.

He blinked at you, still processing what had just happened. Then, slowly, a small, genuine smile broke across his face—a rare sight that made your chest feel light. “You didn’t let me finish,” he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone.

“I think you said enough,” you teased, leaning your forehead against his.Shadow let out a quiet sigh, his hands still resting on your waist as he held you close. “I guess I did.”

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, the unspoken feelings that had hung between you for so long finally laid bare. It was simple, yet it was everything.

[hirukochan]

Can I please request a snape smut fic? The reader and him have been friends since school and she is in love with him only he does not know it or realize his feelings till Sirius is flirting with her and it leads to a fight between them leading to them confessing to their feelings. Maybe some dirty talk biting and rough smut

Sooo...I got a bit carried away with this...definetly not the roughest smut I've written, but I hope you like it anyway.

Severus and his sunshine

Pairing: Severus Snape x fem!reader

warnings: Smut, loss of virginity

Wordcount: 7402 (oops...)

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

“To the youngest Professor in the history of Hogwarts!” You cheer and raise your glass clumsily into the air, spilling half your drink down your arm. “Oops-” You giggle. 

It’s not the first drink of the evening and not the first time you toast to Severus’ new job - and certainly not the last. It bears repeating after all because how fucking awesome is this? You have always known that Severus is the most intelligent and brilliant and ingenious person you’d ever meet! It’s unfair - no, a bloody shame! - how many people never realised it just because Severus’ is a bit awkward and rude and- alright he’s a downright cunt sometimes but he has every bloody right to be with the road his life has taken so far! With a father like that and that awful Potter and his stupid goons!

“We need to cut you off.” He drawls, the corner of his lips curling, and tries to snatch your glass from you. You jump off the chair you're standing on and cradle your drink protectively to your chest, firewhiskey dripping down your arm.

“Try and I’ll bite your finger off!”

“You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.” Severus shakes his head but doesn’t try to get your drink again, instead focusing on his own (the second of the evening - what a bore). The pub is crowded and loud, nobody pays any attention to the two of you sitting at a table in the corner.

You plop back down on your chair and take a sip of your drink. 

Severus’ eyes have gone distant again. That happens a lot lately. Like something is on his mind that he lacks the words to tell you. Social interactions aren’t his strong suit. You’re the ‘Severus-translator’ Lily used to joke when you three were still friends because you always knew what Severus wanted to say but couldn’t. You always made sure he was included in conversations, told others to shut up so he could speak or smooth over his rough edges whenever someone didn’t get Severus’ dry and dark sense of humour. 

One look at him from across the Great Hall during breakfast and you knew whether he was in a good or bad mood. You knew when he had a nightmare the night before and needed a gentler touch or when to bluntly tell him he’s being a cunt.

This you can’t seem to figure out. 

He smiles less these days. Even less than usual. The four years since you finished school have been hard, especially for him, especially with the war. 

Emotions are not Severus’ thing.

His long black hair falls into his face, hiding his grave expression from the world and you. His face has lost its boyish features. His jaw is more prominent, complementing his high cheekbones. His hooked nose suits him. It’s something about the proportions or symmetry of his face - you can’t quite put your finger on it. Most people seem to be put off by his appearance, but to you he has always held something uniquely beautiful.

He taps his finger against his glass repeatedly. His fingernails are still painted black…You made him let you paint them last time he was at your flat. It suits him.

You place your hand over his, stopping his fidgeting. You wish you’d know what’s going on in his head, clearly whatever it is puts him on edge, but you trust he’ll talk to you when he is ready. 

“You’ll be great.” You say. “I have no doubt. You’re a bloody genius, Severus! These kids are so lucky. They can learn so much from you!”

“I am certain they will share your attitude.” He says sardonically and you snort. Severus downs his drink and takes your empty glass to get another round (and probably a glass of water for you because he’s such a mum sometimes). You smirk as you watch him make his way through the crowd. 

He sticks out like a sore thumb in these new robes he got, but you think they too suit him. It’s probably the first time he isn’t wearing hand-me-downs. He’s wearing all black of course. The most colour you ever saw him wear was at Hogwarts in the form of his emerald green school tie. 

Severus looks intimidating. It makes him look older, stronger somehow. It’s such a stark difference to the beat up jeans, the The Cure bandshirt you gifted him one Christmas and the shabby leather jacket.

But not in a bad way.

He looks good. 

Maybe it’s the fact he has grown taller since graduation. He’s a head taller than he used to be and shed his bend over posture. Escaping both Hogwarts and his recently deceased father agrees with him. That and your continued effort of forcing him to eat three whole meals a day, every day.

His wide shoulders and dark hair disappear behind people and you rip your eyes from the spot you last saw him.

So much has changed in the last four years but that little flutter in your heart whenever you look at him has not changed. When it first started in your fourth year you didn’t even realise what it was about. You’d start stammering around him, earning you silent glares and raised eyebrows from Severus at which you’d blush. After an embarrassingly long time you finally accepted that you had developed a crush on your best friend. 

You’re too terrified of losing him as a friend to ever tell him though.

Severus isn’t good with feelings. They are too complicated. Too messy. He doesn’t need messy. His life is messy enough and so you swore to yourself to never tell him.

Your friendship was already a miracle. You are his polar opposite. You are outgoing and friendly, polite - too polite sometimes - bubbly and optimistic. Severus is - well Severus. He is grumpy and quiet and rude.

You decided to befriend him in your first year. You saw him during the sorting and something about him pulled you in. You really wanted to get to know him and when you heard him talk during your first potions class you made the decision to gain his friendship however long it would take.

You started by sitting at the table next to his in the library. You’d sit there everyday, quietly doing your homework and when he stopped shooting you irritated looks when he thought you weren’t looking, you moved to sitting at his table. You simply smiled at the befuddled Severus and did your work. 

You approached befriending Severus like one might approach gaining the trust of a wild animal. Over the year a truce-kind-of study group had formed between you.

Towards the end of term he asked for your help collecting some things from the forbidden forest - Lily would never break school rules, but you are certain Severus didn’t actually need help, he just didn’t know how to tell you he wanted to spend time with you.

During the summer you send him letters, even after not receiving any back from him and when you saw him by himself in the Hogwarts Express in September you sat down next to him and you’ve been friends since.

You know a romance is even less likely than your friendship was.

“Merlin! I almost didn’t fucking recognise you!” A familiar voice says and you throw up a little in your mouth.

“Black.” You say monotonous. As if he owns the place Black sits down opposite of you on Severus’ currently empty chair.

“You’re hot! How come we never snogged in school?”

“Because whenever I am forced to face the fact that you exist I want to smash my head against a wall.” You say with a honey-sweet tone of voice at which Black’s grin only grows. He doesn’t get the hint. 

“How come you’re drinking alone, gorgeous?” Black continues undeterred, a poised and arrogant grin on his lips.

“I’m not.” His grin wavers ever so slightly but Sirius Black has always believed himself so utterly irresistible that such small details don’t matter to him.

“I don’t see anyone.” He is wearing muggle clothes, trying just a tad too hard to look like a rockstar, but he talks and holds himself like a pureblood still. He might have run away from home but he is still living off of his family’s wealth and he hasn’t changed one bit since school.

Black is (as usual) utterly unaware that he isn’t welcome. Black’s eyes roam over your face and down to your chest like he is appraising you, determining how much effort you are worth putting into seducing you. 

“I think it’s fate we meet like this! You look-” He licks his lips and a shiver of disgust rushes over your arms. “So different. Bet you cut loose that tosser Snivellus. He was clearly dragging you under. A frown on such a pretty face should be considered a fucking crime.” You clench your fists under the table. You have your wand in your boot. It would be so easy to hex him-

“Someone as stunning as you- Oi! I was about to head to this club in Dublin that recently opened to meet Moony and Wormtail - You should join me!” He winks.

“As I said - I am here with someone.”

“But you could be with me!” He laughs as if he just made a joke but you know he is dead serious. He thinks you’d gladly ditched whomever you are here with for the chance of spending time with him. “Bring her too - the more the merrier.” There is a not so subtle suggestive tone to his words and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Come on gorgeous! Someone as sexy as you should not be so uptight! Let’s have some fun, let loose a little - it’ll be worthwhile to you, I swear.”

“What a compelling offer.” Sneers Severus and your heart drops. Great. “I wonder how many you made that promise to, Black, and how many you left disappointed.” Black’s grin falters for a split second.

That’s right.

Severus is different.

He stands taller. He’s fierce and strong and you aren’t at Hogwarts anymore where it’s four against one with the teachers turning a blind eye. You have no doubt Severus would pull out his nastiest curses on Black given the chance.

“Let’s leave, Sev.” 

“Come on, gorgeous!”

“That’s not her name, but one can hardly expect a simpleton like you to care for such fine details as names.”

“Sev.”

“No wonder she looked like somebody was fucking murdered in front of her eyes when I found her - how Lily could bear being close to you for so long I’ll never understand.” Black turns towards you. “Kick this dick to the curb - I’ll buy you a drink, gorgeous.”

“She does not need you for that-”

“I can buy my own drinks.” You hiss and when Severus still makes no move towards leaving, you grab your jacket and storm off. Let them duel like little children if they want, but you won’t get in the middle of that. 

The cold hair of the night hits you while you run down the street. Tears sting in your eyes and you feel so stupid and pathetic for crying. Nothing even happened. You don’t know what’s going on- that’s a lie. Severus sounded like he was about to suggest you’re with him and therefore don’t need Black to buy you drinks which…it’s not wrong. You were at the pub with Severus and you were going to make him pay (he’s a Professor now after all and from what Sev let on the pay isn’t bad) but it wasn’t a date. And Severus suggesting or intending to suggest that hurts. You want it to be a date goddamn! You’ve wanted it for over eight years!

Severus calls your name but you just wrap your arms tighter around yourself and continue down the empty street on the outskirts of London.

“Just wait!” He catches up to you. “What a fucking wanker.” He huffs.

“Mh.”

“What did he say to you? I should have hexed him! I knew it!”

“Drop it.”

“No, I will not drop it! He made you cry- come on tell me what he said and I’ll-”

“What?!” Abruptly you stop walking and spin around to face Severus. He looks at you perplexed, his cloak billowing behind him in the breeze. “You’ll go and start a duel? Why? I told you to drop it.”

“He’s a fucking cavemen! Just the way he looked at you-” Severus grimaces. A muscle in his jaw tenses and he flexes his wand hand.

“Why the fuck do you suddenly feel the need to defend my honour?! You just ignored me in there- nevermind. I’m tired. I want to go home.”

“Don’t let Black ruin our night-”

“You ruined our night! I asked you to leave, you ignored me. I ask you to drop it, you ignore me. I don’t want you to fight Black! We aren’t at school anymore - you’ll get arrested!” Something you have never before seen crosses through Severus’ eyes. Something dark. A cold shiver runs down your spine and you take an involuntary step back.

“I wouldn’t be arrested, Sunshine.” He says, voice low, rumbling like thunder, a muttered promise of destruction and ruin and heat pools in your belly. That he called you by his nickname for you which he uses very sparingly, if ever, doesn’t help the matter. Severus takes a step forward. The heat morphs into a twisting, curling mass that takes your breath away. Severus looms over you, shadows dancing over his pale skin, drawing his cheekbones into an even sharper contrast and you gulp.

“You think Luci is going to come and rescue you?”

“Lucius? I don’t need Lucius for that.”

“Do you even fucking hear yourself?!” Your voice echoes through the empty streets, thrown back off the house.

“He made you cry!”

“Why does it matter?!”

“Because-” He clenches his jaw, his fists shake with suppressed rage. His nostrils flare and for a split second a tingling sensation winds around your heart at the expression in his eyes - the softness in the middle of a raging storm. A lone, untouched, unbothered island in the midst of a roaring ocean. 

Severus exhales. Tension falls off his frame and the expression is gone.

“Fine.” He says quietly. “Let’s go then.” And he walks past you.

“No.” You can hear his steps stop behind you. Tears drip over your cheeks and you stubbornly wipe them away. “Say what you wanted to say.”

“I thought you’re tired.”

“Say it.”

“It’s- it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m not moving until you say it.” You cross your arms in front of your chest. Behind you Severus sighs and you can practically hear him pinch the bridge of his nose like he does whenever you annoy him.

“You sound like a spoiled child.”

“Good practice then. You’ll have to deal with a lot of those, Professor.”

“Are you- I have the feeling you’re angry with me.” You spin around and glare at Severus. He’s not good with emotions, sure - but now he’s just being dense.

“What made you think that?” You deadpan. He rolls his eyes and his disregard for your feelings drives you mad. 

“Black’s a bastard-”

“This is Warren all over again!”

“Yeah and I was fucking right about Warren wasn’t I?” A vein on his forehead pulses, but you don’t give a shit. Warren was your first boyfriend and Severus behaved absolutely rotten towards you.

“Warren was a huge mistake, yes - but he was my mistake to make! What- do you actually fucking think I would ever fucking touch Black? Just the thought gives me an STD!” The barest flicker of amusement flashes over Severus’ features. “I just- I don’t get why you overreact like this everytime I talk to a guy. And it’s not like I was engaging Black there! The fucknugget is just to stupid to get a hint!”

“I-”

“There it is again! You did it again! What is it that you can’t tell me? Come on Sev! You can tell me everything. When did you start having secrets from me?” It’s a hit to your ego as much as you don’t like admitting it. 

You have always been Severus’ safespace. 

He told you things he never even told Lily! Something you didn’t know until third year when Lily asked whether Severus’ parents are ‘fighting again’ when you knew Tobias dickward Snape beat Sev with his belt the day before the Hogwarts Express left for the new term. You fucking healed him in you compartment because his ribs were broken and she asked whether they were fighting. 

Why can’t he tell you this?

Another tear slips over your lower lid and slides down your check. Your bottom lip quivers. You suppress a sniffle and nod. 

You have never felt further away from him than you do at this precise moment. It feels like Severus is sand slipping through your fingers and the harder you try to hold onto him, to the way it was before, the faster he slips away. Maybe too much has changed. Maybe he’s too different. Maybe this unlikely friendship was doomed from the beginning.

You know you’re about to start bawling and that’s the last you want Severus to see.

“Alright…I see.” You whisper. “Life’s different now. We’re keeping secrets now…”

“Sunshine-”

“No- no, ‘tis fine-” You roughly wipe your eyes. “See you- see you sometime….congratulations again.” You turn around to find a quiet alleyway to disapparate to your flat and break down there like a pathetic little teen that got her pathetic little heart broken without ever even working up the courage to confess her pathetic feelings. 

Your steps sound horribly loud in the dark, cold night and with every step you take away from Severus you feel like you’re losing him more, every step is another crack, another break, another insurmountable obstacle between you. The cold wind cuts through your clothes with ease and you shiver. 

“I love you.”

You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart skips a beat or two or maybe it forgets how to work entirely. 

Severus’ voice is quiet, uncertain like it has not been since second year when he thought you didn’t want to be friends with him anymore after he lashed out at you.

“Sunshine- I knew Warren would only hurt you. That he’s not good enough for you. He bragged in the Slytherin common room that you showed him your boobs- He said all sorts of awful things and I- I just sat there. I should have said something, defended you, made him shut up but- Warren was two years above us and…” He takes a shuddering breath, dispelling old shame and insecurity from his voice. “Black’s just like that. He never cared for you before and now all of a sudden he is dying to go out with you? You don’t even realise it, Sunshine but- you- you are stunning. You have changed so much since school, you are- fuck I don’t know- words-” He sighs and rubs his hands over his face. 

You feel numb and like you’re on fire at the same time. Of course you knew Warren spread some shit about you around, it’s why you broke up and broke his nose in the process for good measure, earning three weeks detention with McGonagall, but you wished you would have known sooner... 

And- Severus loves you? No- that can’t be right- He’s in love with Lily- it’s always been Lily-

“You’re happier somehow- you- you’re radiant and beautiful and- you’ve grown up so much and- and- I love you. I’ve loved you for years- I want to protect you. I want to guard your happiness and yes I’d go back to knock out every single one of Black’s teeth for talking to you like that. You just have to say the word - sunshine - I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. And I know I’m not bloody good enough for you- I am rude and surly and miserable to be around - I don’t expect you to feel the same…I- fuck I don’t know-”

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

“I thought you love Lily.”

“Lily is- was- still is- I have no goddamn clue- she’s like a sister. I love her. And I think marrying Potter was a huge mistake and that she’ll divorce him in about three years - if she manages to stand him that long and when she does I hope- I hope we can mend our friendship…maybe- but- but I don’t love her like that. Not like I love you.”

Severus loves you.

Has loved you for years.

Severus loves you… You swirl around and before your anxiety can overpower your heart, screaming and aching and thrashing about in your chest you cup his face with your trembling hands and press your lips against his.

Severus stiffens. For a moment you just stand there, on your tiptoes to be able to reach him, holding onto him, feeling his heat against you, your lips exploding with electrifying tingling. Your stomach clenches and twists, flip flops and gives birth to a thousand erratic butterflies and all flutter around in a whirlwind of emotions that are too colourful, too many, too intense to ever find words worthy of describing the sensation.

Cautiously Severus puts his hands on your back and moves his lips against yours. You’re still crying, tears stream over your cheeks and run along the curves of your face to your lips. 

As if woken from an enchanted slumber, Severus drags you against his chest and kisses you fiercely. One arm wrapped around your back and clutching at your waist, and one hand cradling the back of your head, long slender fingers threading through your hair. You grab the front of his robes and cling to him. 

You both stumble a few steps and your back hits the brick wall of a house. Severus licks along the seam of your lips which you happily part for him. Your kiss grows sloppy and desperate. Your tongues meet gingerly at first but soon the slight air of discomfort and wariness at this development vanishes, flies away into the cool air of the night, gone and forgotten, as unimportant as your stupid fight.

Severus is kissing you. You are finally kissing Severus. He loves you. He has loved you for years.

Everything is good.

“Sev-” You whimper against his lips between two kisses. You try to break them, to wrench an inch of air between you but Severus is like a man dying of thirst that finally found a water source and is clenching his burning thirst. “Sev-” You push against his chest. Severus releases your lips, but doesn’t move away, doesn’t let go of you. 

He leans his forehead against yours and blinks back at you, his dark eyes seemingly trying to pervade yours, to find a direct path to your deepest thoughts, a link between you and him that is untouchable by anybody else, that runs deeper than any other connection between two people.

“Don’t you want to invite me back to your place?” You murmur and tug playfully at the button just above his throat. Severus’ eyes darken. A muscle in his jaw jumps. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Needy, desperate, wanting.

He clears his throat and steps back. How the fuck does he still look put together? How can he manage to reign in that storm in his eyes so expertly, so fast and clean while you’re a panting, sweaty, needy mess after just a few damn kisses?

“You won’t like what I’d do then.” He says, voice heavy with what he leaves unsaid. You push yourself off the wall and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You trail a few chaste kisses up the side of his jaw and flick the tip of your tongue over his earlobe. Severus inhales sharply and flexes his hands again.

“I don’t break easy, Sev.” You whisper and press a kiss to his ear. “You should know that.” He takes another shuddering breath and just when you think you’ll have to deal with the aftermath of his kiss on your own while picturing him nestled between your thighs (once again), he pulls you against his chest and holds you in a bone-breaking grip. You feel the familiar pull of side-along apparition and in the next moment you smell the even more familiar, dusty scent of Severus’ house. The smell of books is new, added after Severus renovated the house enough to evict his father’s influences and put his own touch to it - namely by adding a shittone of books.

Severus doesn’t give you time to catch your breath. He grabs your hand and pulls you up the stairs. You giggle and run to keep up with him. He practically kicks the door to his old room open (you know for a fact he has not even touched the door to his parents room since his father died) and crushes his lips against yours as soon as he pulls you over the threshold.

The burn marks from where Severus used to zap flies with his wand are still on the ceiling. The little pencil sketches you made near the baseboards are as well. He replaced his bed though. A brand new double which you are being steered towards now.

“Severus-” You moan against his lips and tear at the buttons of his new robes.

“Is this real?” He whispers back and leans his forehead against yours again, watching you struggle with his clothes. “I’ve pictured this so many times- thought about how I would feel to have you here- is this happening? Or am I sleeping?”

“It’s real.” You say, lips against his recently freed throat. “I’m here.”

“You’re here…”

“Severus-” You hesitate and pause your quest of revealing Severus’ body to your eyes. “I’ve never done this-” Suddenly you feel shaky and overwhelmed.

“Warren-?”

“Is full of shit. He lied- about all of it. Have you-” He nods, but there’s a distant expression in his eyes that tells you it’s not something he wants to talk about. Probably something he’s ashamed of. You know the kind of company Lucius, Mulciber, Rosier and the other’s like to keep and don��t pry further.

“I’ll trust you then.” You murmur and sit down on the bed, pulling Severus down with you.

“I’d never want to hurt you, Sunshine.” You kiss and between kisses scoot up the bed until your head is resting on the soft pillows and Severus’ lean body between your thighs. “I’ll take care of you.” He mutters against the corner of your mouth and kisses your cheek. “Such good care.” He trails down your jaw. “Like Black or Warren never fucking could.”

“I never wanted them.” You moan. Your body moves on its own, knowing precisely what you want and need even if your mind has yet to catch up. Your legs wrap around his hips, your back arches, pressing your breasts to his chest. You thread your fingers through his silky hair. “Only you.”

“Me?”

“Only you. Always you. Whenever I thought about it…when I pictured how it would feel while touching myself I only ever pictured you.”

“Oh sunshine-” He groans and rolls his hips against you.

“Sev-” Severus draws his wand and mutters a quick spell. Something curls in your stomach, it’s the weirdest sensation and for a second you are utterly confused, but then your gaze meets Severus’ and you understand. Contraception spell. You didn’t even think of that. Of course Severus did. You smile. 

He mutters another charm and your clothes vanish. You squeak, blush and hide your face behind your hands.

You can hear the clanking of wood hitting wood as Severus tosses his wand onto the nightstand.

“You- fuck…” Cautiously you peek between your fingers. A faint pink tinge has spread over Severus’ cheeks and nose, down to his now fully exposed neck. He looks cute. Adorable. You take a deep breath and drop your hands. This is Severus. Your Severus. There is nothing to be afraid of with him. “You put to shame all great beauties of the comprehensive history of this world.” His words brush over your skin like a tender caress and make you shiver and burn with embarrassed heat at the same time.

“Severus-”

“It’s true. The old greek masters wish they would have had a model like you sit for their marmour statues. Such beauty has to be preserved for the ages - but you…you are just mine.”

“Who are you and what have you done to my stammering, cute, insecure Severus?” You tease. Severus’ eyes are still pinned to your breasts. He visibly snaps out of his thoughts and looks up to you. There he is. Flashing through his impossibly dark eyes for the flicker of a second before they return to the heavy gaze, consumed by carnal desire that has been ignored for too long and has now broken free with demanding force.

“He knows he’s about to find out how you feel.”

“Come and find out then.” You shoot him a challenging grin. Severus kisses you in response. He kisses you and settles more of his weight on you. His very much hard cock presses against your exposed cunt. You gasp and clutch at Severus.

“Shit- Severus- that won’t fit!”

“It will.”

“You sure?” He chuckles, his eyes lighting up with amusement like they do so rarely and you relax.

“I’m sure.” You trust him. You love him. You want him. He’ll take care of you. 

You let him take control. Severus kisses you more. He seems determined to cover every inch of your body with all the confessions of his love he has missed out on. All the elapsed opportunities. All the kisses you could have shared if you both had had just a little more courage. But it doesn’t matter. You are here now. You are together in his bed, skin pressed against skin, breathing the same air, staring into each other’s eyes longingly while his hand slips between your thighs.

You’re soaked and whimper when his slender fingers gather your slickness, brushing your aching cunt with featherlight touches. He draws gentle, slow circles over your clit. Pressure and heat build in your belly and deep inside your cunt fast. You cling to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin without even noticing.

“I wondered so many times how you’d look…” He murmurs. His lips brush over yours as he speaks. His breath dances across your cheeks.

“...in the throes of pleasure.” Severus’ voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. A smoky rumble that goes straight to your core.

He teases your entrance until you’re squirming and rolling your hips against his touch before finally plunging a finger inside you. “I wondered how you’d sound…how I would feel knowing it was me making you feel like that…” You give him the answer promptly. Moaning and whining, gasping for air.

“Sev!” You throw your head back and arch your back. The pressure keeps building and building, beyond anything you ever managed yourself. He adds a second finger and with it a delicious, stinging stretch. He curls his fingers and presses the heel of his palm to your clit. You squirm under Severus’ intense gaze that seems to look right through you, through your skin down to your very soul. He watches every flicker of pleasure and desperation he paints onto your face with utter, devoted, undisturbed attention to you and nothing else. Nothing else matters.

Severus knows you like no other. It feels right to share this with him as well.

He loves you.

You still can’t believe it. 

“Sev!”

“Cum for me, sunshine. Cum on my fingers. I want to know- I’m done wondering. I want to know.” You do. Crying out and panting his name, thrashing about beneath him as waves upon waves of intense pleasure run havoc over you, but it’s fine. You can let go with Severus.

“I need you Sev- please-” You gasp even before your orgasm has released you from its clutches. “Please please please- Sev-” He groans. 

“Fuck and I thought you sounded needy in my head.” Severus mutters and aligns himself with you. He takes his time, giving you time to adjust to his girth, slowly pushing deeper and deeper into your still spasming channel, forcing it to give way to him. He grunts and whispers praise, how tight you are, how good you feel for him, how well you’re taking him. You whimper and hold onto him, leaving red streaks across his back. Severus doesn’t even bat an eye at it.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and savours your every sound, every twitch and throb of your cunt finally, finally gloved around him.

“Sunshine-”

“Severus…” More words aren’t needed. He rests there, deep inside you, his body pressed to your trembling smaller one, shielding you from the cold of his room and the world itself and you know there is a promise in there somewhere.

“I can’t believe it-” He murmurs and kisses your collarbone, down to your sternum. He kisses and licks, sucks, grazes your skin with his teeth. “You feel…incredible…you’re so good for me sunshine-” He kisses your breasts, flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, licks broad strokes and teasingly closes his lips around them.

When Severus finally moves again he does so in slow, measured thrusts. He watches your expression with hidden wariness, watches your every reaction. He can’t hide from you though. He is waiting for you to regret this. To tell him to stop. He’s afraid of letting go, afraid of scaring you off, of losing you.

But he’ll never lose you.

You buck your hips and whine impatiently. “Come on Sev.” You whimper. “Fuck me like you really want to fuck me.”

“It’s your first time I will not-”

“It’s done, Sev. Bye bye virginity! That train of stupid little things society places far too much worth in has left the station indefinitely. Now fuck me.”

“Sun-”

“Severus Snape! Fuck. me. properly.” He groans. His eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fine.” Severus grunts and a rush of excitement pulses through your stomach and drenches his throbbing cock in more fluids. “I warned you.”

The bed creaks dangerously under his thrusts. His hips slap against yours with a wet, fleshy sound that drives you crazy.

“Oh fuck yes- yes- just like that- that’s-” You babble more nonsense, moaning and shredding Severus’ back with your nails. He fucks you mercilessly into the mattress, spearing you open with his cock with each hard thrust. Your entire body trembles under his thorough attention. Your cunt yields to him in wet, fluttering excitement. It cherishes the promise of soreness his thrusts leave behind. 

Any attempt at grasping for and trying to hold onto one of the many thoughts rushing through your fuzzy, hazy mind is a fruitless endeavour.

“Fuck! Ahhh- so good…” Severus mutters against your collarbone and plunges his cock into your drenched cunt again before pulling out almost completely and driving back in with such force he knocks your head against the headboard. You both laugh.

“Sorry-”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You weave your fingers through his hair and pull him down into a sloppy, passionate kiss. You gasp and moan into the kiss and drink up the way Severus continues to lose the iron grip on his emotions he had cultivated since graduation, revealing more and more of the love-starved, unapologetic, fierce man you know him as. The man that feels so freely, so intensely, so deeply that it hurts him so much.

Every thrust, every kiss, every exploring hand gliding over your sweaty skin, squeezing your breasts in testing, careful motions is a testament to how deep his feelings for you run and have been running for so long. 

It breaks free of him in violent bursts and buries you beneath roaring pleasure. 

Severus is not good with words.

But he will be damned if he doesn’t show you what he can’t figure out how to say.

“Severus-” You moan, joining the creaking bed and his grunts, the symphony of your love. This would not be a pretty, romantic, fairytale like love. You are both messy and broken in your own ways. It will be hard. It will take work and compassion and will seem impossible at moments, especially in the midst of a war, but Severus is worth it.

To you he is worth it.

He always was and will always be.

You whine in protest when Severus pulls out of you but before you have a chance to voice it otherwise or even glare at him, Severus flips you over.

“Put your hands on the headboard.” He rasps in your ear. You are shaking and struggle to keep yourself upright, but Severus’ arms around your waist stabilise you. You hold onto the headboard so tight your knuckles turn white. Severus is kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking, painting his marks onto you as if to say ‘I was here’ or maybe ‘back off’. Maybe both. Maybe more.

He fills you up again, reaching much deeper than before and you gasp at the unfamiliar, intense feeling.

“Your cunt clutches me so hard-” He grunts and bottoms out. “Sucks me in- all soaked and desperate.”

“Sev-”

“Hmm…yes. I’m here…” He sucks the delicate skin on your neck into his mouth and bites down gently, at which a loud, wanton moan breaks free of you and he bites down harder. 

You meet his thrust with your hips, his cockhead hits a spot inside you it previously missed and you fall apart. His grip around your waist turns bruising and Severus pulls you back. Your grip around the headboard goes slack. You melt into his touch, twitching and shivering, whimpering, mind fuzzy with always new, higher, stronger, more intense levels of pleasure.

Severus holds you to his chest, your thighs on either side of his, useless, hands helplessly holding onto his arms, and moves your body up and down his hard shaft. Using you and the fluttering of your cunt as your orgasm continues to coarse through you. He grunts and bites your shoulder, harder than before and a particularly strong spasm shakes your body. You drop your head onto his shoulder, melting further against him.

“Again-” You rasp and present your neck to him. A grin flashes over Severus’ lips. Sweaty strands of hair stick to his forehead, his eyes are glazed over with hazy lust.

“My pleasure.” He coos, but instead of indulging you, he kisses you. One small, chaste peck after another. You squirm against his grip, claw at his arms, painting more red streaks on his pale skin.

“You never told me you got a tattoo-” You murmur. The sight of the jet black snake and skull on Severus’ left inner arm pulls your mind out of its haze and into a brief moment of clarity. Severus hesitates ever so slightly in his thorough, teasing attention he’s paying to your neck. Something about the tattoo unsettles you, though you can’t exactly decide why.

“Must have forgotten. It’s new.”

“Hmm…very metal.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Why’d you get it then?”

“I thought I would.” Severus sucks on your neck and that plummets you back into mind-numbing, all-consuming, ecstatic pleasure.

“Maybe we should go to Dublin after.” Severus purrs in your ear. “Show Black all your pretty marks.”

“Idiot.” You giggle.

“I’m going to cum-”

“Cum inside me.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Please, Sev! Cum in me.” Severus pushes you forward and you fall face first into the mattress with a tiny outrages squeal. Severus laughs at you and grips your hips, adjusting them to sit flush with his own. He fucks you roughly into the pillows. You clutch at the sheets. Severus loses more and more of what little composure he still had. He mutters things you can’t make out.

His thrusts are accompanied with lewd, wet noises and the headboard hitting the wall.

“Severus!”

“I’ll fill you up ahh- with my cum- leave you dripping-”

“Yesyesyes-” He moves your hips with each thrust, pulling you back into him as he buries his cock inside you. His balls hit your sensitive cunt. His fingers dig into your skin, sure to be leaving bruises. 

Severus cums with your name on his lips, tumbling over them in a low, reverent, lust-drenched prayer which you join with your own faint, desperate whimpers.

Feeling the hot spurts of cum hit your inner walls violently kicks you over the edge for the third time. Severus slumps above you, pressing his forehead to your back between your shoulder blades, panting and spent.

You stay like that for a while. Both of you trying to catch your breath, relishing in the buzzing glow of your aftershock and the feeling of each other’s love on your skin and warming you from the inside.

Gently Severus pulls his softening cock from you and lies down next to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Sorry.” He murmurs in your hair and presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. “I hurt you.”

“I liked it.” You murmur back and place your hands against his chest, nuzzling your face to his neck. “Why did it take us so bloody long to finally do this?” He chuckles. He tugs a strand of messy hair behind your ear. You look up to meet his gaze. It’s heavy with emotions, a swirling storm of love and care and fear. You reach out to him in a futile attempt of soothing it. The pads of your fingers meet his cheek and he shudders under your touch, before leaning into it. His eyes fall closed and for a brief moment he looks at peace. Content. Home.

“I-” He opens his mouth as if to say something but closes it again. His brows pull together into a frown, a deep crease forming between them. His lips go white as he presses them together into a thin line. His jaw tenses. “I’ve made a terrible mistake-” His voice is hoarse from unshed tears and the effort of suppressing them. He loses. One escapes from between his closed lids and slides down his cheek, meeting your fingers. You wipe it away, but more follow. 

“I’m trying to fix it- I am! But I-”

“It’s ok.” You whisper and press a tender kiss to his jaw. 

So he did it…You had your suspicions, of course you did, but a part of you refused to believe Severus capable of those horrible acts committed by the Death Eaters. And you were right. The pain, regret and self-loathing is so evident in his face. He can’t bear to look at you.

“We’ll fix it. Together. It’ll be fine.”

You are there when the Aurors storm his house to arrest him. You were sitting on the threadbare sofa in his arms as he read to you. 

You tell him not to resist, to not tell them anything.

You send an owl to Dumbledore.

You are at the trial, sitting on one of the benches. Severus looks miserable sitting in the middle of the courtroom, deep shadows under his eyes, a tremor in his wand hand. The chains of the chair are wrapped tightly around his arms. He avoids your eyes.

Dumbledore defends him passionately. Recounting Severus’ turning spy for him, reporting you-know-who’s steps to Dumbledore, how invaluable his intel had been. He recounts the dangers Severus was willing to face. He demands he is released. And he is. The Wizengamot clears him of all charges and you walk out of the Ministry with him, holding his still trembling hand in your own.

“Is this real?” He whispers and you bite the inside of your cheek to not start crying. You want to be strong for him.

“Yes.” You kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s real. You’re a free man. I’m here. I will always be here. We’ll figure this out.”

“Together?”

“Together. I love you, Severus.”

“I love you too, Sunshine.”

[quimichi]

↳ ❝ [IF I DIE, YOU DIE AFTER ME] ¡! ❞

warnings: Angst, mentions of death and suicide

summary: All you want is for him to continue if the worst case will ever happen. Unfortunately he understood you wrong...or maybe right?

characters: Aether, Albedo, Al-haitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Bennett, Capitano, Childe and Chongyun × Creator!Reader

word count: 1,805

parts: 1.

Aether

Aether is stunned by your words for a moment; they linger in the air like lingering notes from a lyre, their impact resonating far more deeply in his heart than they did in his hearing. "What... What do you mean?" he replies in a hoarse whisper; his brows knit together, and a flicker of panic flickers across his expression.

"When i die, you better die after me because...I cannot bare to see you go. You should live a good life long after I'm gone and find happiness." you tell him seriously. No way ever, you would be able to live after knowing he ever parished. Aether stares at you with bright, wet eyes as his mind attempts to grapple with your words. His lips part softly as he takes a deep inhale; his heartbeat is pounding in his ears, and he feels dizzy at the very thought of it. "But... But your Grace?" he protests weakly, as if he just can't accept it.

"You can't be gone. I can't live without you." A long moment of silence stretches between you and the Traveler. Aether stares down, his brows furrowed. He doesn't want to say it, doesn't want to entertain the idea, but he finally whispers the words.

"But your Grace... If you're gone, I don't want to live. I wouldn't know what to live for."

"And I wouldn't know what to die for."

Albedo

"That I can't do." he stands his ground, he makes his point clear. He'd always promised that he would be by your side. If you go, so must he. Perhaps he was being dramatic, but he'd rather perish by your side than to witness your death. He'd spent his life wishing to die by your side. The thought of doing so without you would make his heart crumble like the foundations of a ruined nation.

"Albedo wha-" but he interrupted, with the same confidence as before, "If you go, so must I. We're equal, remember? If you die, so will I. Together we will say our last farewells to one another."

"I would die for you, my grace."

Albedo seems adamant about that statement, but the way he delivers it seems to say more. It sounds less of a duty to be fulfilled, but more a blessing to be granted.

It's enough to make him stop and stare. He wants you to live, in truth, above all else. His thoughts of your safety are always paramount; more than his own. If you went down, he would follow, but the way he speaks, the conviction in which he's willing to go. It almost seems as though he'd welcome death himself.

"I would rather die with you, than live without you, my grace."

"Agreed."

Al-haitham

"Of course." He says it instantly without thought. Your word is law. He obeys in the most absolute way possible.

The prospect of losing you shatters his heart into a thousand pieces. He can't even bring himself to think about it, so he focuses intently on your slightest movement. "I could never dream of existing without you by my side," he continues, his voice growing unsteady. His mind is a whirlpool of emotions, thoughts, and memories. Unusual from how you know him. "Al-Haitham..."

The thought of being without you...He just can't.

"I would die for you." A small, hesitant pause. He feels his throat tighten, his breath catching in his throat. "I would...do anything to be with you, join you."

Your heart tightens, he can't mean what he says? He can't mean it, he has so much to lose, and its not you. His job, what he worked for to achieve. All you wanted was for him to continue this. "I would throw away everything for you," he whispers, as if he heard you. The words sound hoarse coming out of his dry lips. His throat feels tight, his chest feels heavy, his head feels hollow.

"Anything I've ever cared about, everything I've ever loved... All of it means nothing compared to being at your side. If you die first, I will die twice."

Ayato

His stomach tightens at the thought. His heart feels like it is about to explode as he considers that reality.

"I would follow you there," he says softly, his voice barely a whisper. "With every part of me, I would follow you."

"No. You know what I meant by my words." He understands your meaning, but he cannot bring himself to say the words outloud.

"I would not be able to bear life without you," he says quietly, his eyes avoiding your gaze. The words escape with an earnestness that he did not intend, and immediately he is struck by the depth of his love for you and his utter devotion to you.

Your words have shaken him. "I love you," he says softly. His voice is little more than a whisper. It feels natural to say. The words slip out from his mouth so effortlessly that they escape him before he can even think to stifle them.

He doesn't question it. He'd say it 100 times over if you needed to hear it.

"My love, I'm sorry. I wish I was what you wanted. I wish I had the bravery to live without you, but I'm a coward. But for now, we shall live till we both die."

Baizhu

"I would never let something so horrific befall you. If anything were to happen to you, I would perish before you. And as you know, I will do everything to prevent death, especially yours."

Baizhu leans forward to gently lay his forhead against yours, a gesture, one filled with warmth.

"You will not die. You will not." Baizhu emphasizes his words, the determination in his eyes unshakeable. "For so long as you remain standing, so will I. Your fate is my fate - there is no other reality than the one in which you live."

"I-I don't want you to-" you hurriedly let out, its almost breaking your heart. "But I would... My desire is to shield you from harm. Any threat comes your way, I would-" Baizhu pauses, seeming to ponder whether to finish his prior sentence. Then, he swallows his pride before speaking again.

"My priority... It is to keep you alive. To make sure you are safe..."

Bennett

Bennett's eyes widen, as if he were shocked by your words. "Y-you're not going to die, my grace," he says softly, but there is something like panic in his voice. "Y-you won't... you can't die, ever..."

The Adventurer reaches out and lightly touches your hand with his fingertips. "Please, do not speak of such things..." Bennett looks up at you, his eyes wide and pleading. "You would... you would leave me alone? What would I ever do without you? Go on adventures alone? Who would I tell all my stories? Who would listen? You're my...— I... I."

And then he looks down, unable to look at you. "If you left, I would die; my purpose is to love. So, please, you..."

He looks up at you in desperation again. "If you leave so soon, I won't ever be ready to finish loving you..."

A breeze gently flows through your hair as Bennett reaches out and strokes your hair. The way his fingers caress your hair, so gently and with such tenderness, makes you wonder if he is afraid of breaking you. "You are my everything. So I will give my all to prevent your death, even if it causes my own."

Capitano

“As you wish, your grace” The words leave Capitano’s mouth almost involuntarily. He stares at you, his eyes glazed over as the thought of never seeing you again flashes through his mind.

He doesn’t care what he must do. Even if the universe is set against him. Even if he must face the Abyss Order or the Tsarita herself alone. You alone are worth his devotion and his existence. The thought is a bittersweet one. He will devote himself to you so wholly that when you pass, he will not live on as he normally would but will rather perish at your side.

He is not a man to love lightly, nor is he a man who will forget your kindness with time.

Capitano will live for you, devote himself to you, and even perish with you without a second thought. You are his entire universe, the center of his world. Nothing exists for him but you. All the other worlds that are his duty no longer matter in comparison.

His will is set on two things, only.

To love you. To die with you.

Childe

Childe's breathing quickens at the idea of your death. He cannot allow it. "No," he breathes. He grasps your hands tight, desperation in every motion.

"You can't die. You are immortal. Eternal. Unbreakable." The words tumble out of his mouth, sounding almost like a prayer with the desperation and pleading in his voice. "Of course I can die silly...so when i do...please live on without me." "No." Childe stares at you, his face hard as a rock.

"I can't."

Childe closes his eyes and grips your hands tighter. He leans forward until his chin presses into your knuckles and his face is inches from yours.

"Don't ask me to do that. I won't let you die."

Childe repeats the words, his voice breaking halfway through the sentence, raw and trembling.  "I can't let you die." He pulls you close, so close that your lips are almost touching, but not quite.

"I'm nothing without you." His voice is a whisper. "My existence depends on you.

"I can't live without you."

Chongyun - aged up

He freezes at the sound of these words, his body trembling uncontrollably. His breathing becomes shallower and shallower, his heart pounding faster and faster, all the color draining from his face. "You... you wouldn't... you couldn't.." he says in a hoarse voice, his head spinning from the sudden, overwhelming wave of dread. He is too close to the thought of losing you, and he fears that it could destroy him. "Please," Chongyun whispers, his eyes imploring you with such a profound desperation, a look that could tear your heart out.

"I cannot lose you. I cannot live a life without you." He reaches for your hands, grasping them tightly in his own. "I would not survive your departure. The very thought leaves me in a living nightmare."

Chongyun is crying. "Please do not make me go on without you. Please do not." He is shaking. Your words have stirred up a whirlwind of emotion. He looks up at you, his eyes pleading, his heart breaking at the thought of a life without you.

"I would follow you until the end, your Grace. Even if it means for my own journey to end."

TAGLIST: @hehothrowawayfae @lucienbarkbark

[deafsignifcantother]

if music be the food of love, chapter one

♥ chapter two! ♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic) ♥ word count: 2.1k ♥ pinterest board ♥ warnings: reader got hurt by someone they loved before death, reader is shorter than him, bickering, reader loves tea, lonesome reader, alastor invading space ♥ my idea is that reader has a small stereo on her chest that lets out classical music based on her mood. I imagine that it comes from both her chest (softly) and the outside of her manor (loud as fuck).

Your manor is only visible to the town when the lights are on a tall hill and covered in trees. However, even if all the lights were off, people would at least know it's there.

There are two reasons: the tale and the music.

Tale, a story for the newcomers. They speak of a demon who plays music all day, doomed to play music forever. Oh, the music. The music can be heard from even miles away.

It's refined and dainty, and it reeks of misery. The classical music never seems to repeat itself; it goes on and on and on and on. The demons hear you only through your music. When you cry, the violins and cellos grow with a cruel crescendo. When you sleep, the music is soft, almost quiet. Everyone comes to an understanding, assumption, that if the music were to stop, you would be dead.

The demons who try to step closer to your manor will find themselves experiencing unfathomable sorrow and guilt. The sound of your music is the demonic ability you possess, and it's out of your control. Due to the sadness of your death, you are forced into misery in the afterlife. When you were alive, those you loved and devoted yourself to only broke your heart.

Everybody affected by your music feels that grief.

Alastor doesn't understand why people fear your manor. Your love-related pain doesn't affect him at all.

He starts up the hill, moving both on his feet and through the shadows. On his way to your manor, he focuses on the landscape. The landscape is beautiful; the forest below is so dense that the red sky disappears. Personally, he loves the music. He loves tuning in on you and hearing how you're doing. He sparsely gets to visit, so hearing the song of your heart is always so welcoming.

The worst thing to him is how long the damn walk is.

You're in your house, passing through the dining room, when the lights flicker. The people from the nearby town stutter when the usual sad music suddenly becomes upbeat.

Opening the door, you are greeted by Alastor's traditional smile. You're the one that initiates the hug. He gently wraps his hand around you, only for a short time before he pulls away and establishes his distance.

"Long time no see, my dear." He signs, his claws adding a flare to the simple signs. Truthfully, his sign for "my dear" translates directly to "sweetheart," which he's aware of, just putting faith into you understanding what he means.

"I'll start some tea." You sign, turning immediately to the kitchen.

He smiles at the jazz sneaking its way into your music. The people outside know what it means.

Alastor looks around at the new decor; the place is different every time he enters. It's all the things that you enjoyed when you were alive. That's what is most noticeable about you beyond the aura you possess and how stuck you are to the past; you refuse to acknowledge your situation, which is both a curse and a blessing.

From the kitchen counter, you look at him, seeing him behind you, his staff out of his hands.

He leans a bit forward. "I have news! Have you heard of the new buzz, the new project from the princess of hell?"

A small smile forms. "Charlie?" You remember many years ago when she appeared at your door, in tears due to your involuntary magic, begging you to teach her ASL. You politely declined, though you wrote her a long paper about Deaf Culture (often derailing to rant about your opinion on common debates/crazy events). You've never seen her again, but you're confident she's read it.

You continue, "Her projects are... sweet?"

"Sweet and quite peculiar. She believes that demons can be redeemed. How absurd!" His smile grows, his eyes squinting in interest. He knows you're devoted to being good and staying away from violence. He's here to convince you to join her cause.

"Fascinating," you can't help but show your pure astonishment. "She's on our side."

"Oh, how kind you are!"

The tea is ready. You turn entirely away from Alastor, and he lets you. Your thoughts are apparent; he has spent weeks excited about this conversation. He's absolutely fighting the urge to spill out every argument he has; he wants to mention that if you participate, you'll see each other daily. That hasn't even crossed your mind yet.

You pour the tea and take your time, a little nervous to continue the convo. Alastor's eyes remain on your frame, your casual clothing. The last time he saw you, you were dressed up despite spending your days alone.

You hand a cup to him. Neither sign; you stand still, staring at each other and drinking. Both of you already know what the other will try to say next. Your eyes are deep in thought while he is locked on you. The only reason you are doubting being involved with everything yourself is that you know your aura makes others depressed. It is not very good, isolating. On the opposite stance, Alastor always noticed how your music gets positive whenever he's around. He knows (guesses) that in the hotel, with his presence, your saddening demeanor would be no more.

He moves abruptly, you follow, and he sits on a heavily cushioned couch, dipping deeply, which makes him smile. Your soft smile grows—more piano.

"What are your thoughts?" He prompts with one hand. You take a very long sip of your tea before putting it down.

"I wouldn't make them feel comfortable," you explain. "That's all I think about."

"Ever so pessimistic, my dear. You never know unless you come to visit. What do you say?" He grabs his mic and jokingly reaches it to your face, "A simple visit?"

You put a hand to your temple. "My love," you sign without noticing how his lids droop in comfort, "do you really think I would belong?"

He puts his hand to his chin in faux thought. "Of course I do! The princess will approach you with open arms."

You let out a small, broken groan. You're not going to be winning this little debate. Alastor's going to be able to rebuttal everything you say. Knowing that, why is it still so hard to give in?

You put your hands in your lap before returning them to your temples. His smile grows, and the static radiating off him grows ever so prominent, tickling your skin. You look up at him when you notice the change in the air.

The way he looks at you gives away his intentions. He is standing tall in his usual formal way in his seat, but his eyes are ever so casual. He gazes at you more than anything. His smile is still wide and prideful.

You wiggle a finger at him. "Ah."

He squints.

You continue, "You want to see me more, don't you?"

"Who wouldn't?" He plays off, shrugging. "Your captivating presence has every demon in hell dropping their jaws agape."

"Youuuuuu," you smile mischievously, "you want to see me more."

He continues to wave his hands. "Your accusations are futile, go ahead and fill your pretty head with things such as affection," his shoulders bounce as he chuckles, "dreams about how I miss you."

A breathless laugh leaves your lips. Rather than continue the teasing, you let the positive atmosphere linger in the air. You lift your chin with confidence. "Practically admitting it."

"I know what you want me from me." He signs. You smile at how he interpreted it. You don't bother responding. Instead, you give him a sly smile and lift your cup, taking another long sip; his bottom eyelid is twitching.

The last time he saw you, he signed you many compliments and even danced with you to the rhythm of your music. He let you put your hand on his face as he leaned his forehead against yours.

Admittedly, you only started teasing him because you wanted him to tell you that he missed you. Obviously, he did. You didn't expect him to be so stubborn about it.

When you don't respond, he continues. "When I'm here, your heart sings in happiness."

You nod and sign with one hand. "Very true."

"Well, I find the sound lovely."

"Very appreciated."

You watch as he leans back and crosses his legs, lifting and finishing the teacup. You both spend a few seconds without conversation, just looking at each other. In an attempt to hide how flustered you are starting to look, you lean your head back and gulp down the tea to the point where the cup is hiding your face. But you can only keep it in that position for a short time. After finishing the drink, you place it back down, finding that Alastor is already sitting with his fingers intertwined and waiting for you. His eyes sparkle.

"My dear, I missed you very much." And as quickly as the affection comes, it disappears. "I must give the little lady what she wants. There, are you happy?"

"I missed you too, Alastor. Thank you for coming up again."

Sappy, sappy, sappy. Will you agree to return to the hotel with him now?

He straights his bowtie and stands. "My dear, I'm afraid our time here will be cut short; I have a hotel to show you, don't I?"

You stay seated, just eyeing him. Peer pressure, you sigh and try not to roll your eyes. A simple nose exhaling is enough to show him how you feel.

He leans his head to the side. "Is there anything I can do to convince you?"

You finally stand and meet his eyes. His eyes are gorgeous; you love the way he looks at you. He doesn't take his eyes off you when you step close to him. Your hands reach for his overcoat, and you adjust it fruitlessly, only wanting an excuse to touch him.

You smile. "I can cook you something for your long trip back."

"Our."

"Your."

You both lean in, smiles straining.

He tries again. "Our."

"Biscuits, I assume," you turn your heels and motion for him to follow you. The motion you make is beckoning, and when you flick your wrist, he grabs it and pulls you into him. He lets you go to see your response. Your heart is beating out of your chest. You fall for people too easily. His touch is demanding, yet his face is calm, and with how close he is, all you can do is stare up at him. Your feet stumble a bit to adjust to your new stance. He will fight tooth and nail to get you to follow him back; throughout his days, he always wonders what you're doing and your music might sound like. He'll close his eyes and try to imagine the melody in moments of silence at the hotel.

You can't find yourself stepping back. "I'm perfectly okay with where I am." A lie. "Nobody will bother me if I'm out here."

"And nobody will bother you when you're next to me, get it?" After he signs, both of his hands hold your cheeks. He tilts your head back and forth to try and lighten the mood that's getting a little serious.

You try to hold his wrists and pull his hands down, but he fights against you. He lifts your face so he can look at you head-on. The waist bends his body; he curls himself up to you. Your touch falls to his sleeves and then moves to his biceps, your fingers grazing him gently.

The music is fast-paced, like your heart. It sounds almost angelic, a new ethereal sound surrounding it.

"Okay," you fold but then immediately chew on the inside of your lip.

"Perfect!" He presses his forehead to yours quickly before pulling away. He's taking this win. He turns and eyes the room, motioning. "Packing anything?"

With a small sigh of defeat, you place your hands on your temples again. What would you even need? Like a spoiled child, you realize that if you did need something in particular, Alastor would get it for you. You smiled and shook your head to yourself. "I don't think I need anything at all."

"Spectacular!" Another dramatic sign. "Come along then." The fast twirling of his staff blows air onto you when you start to walk behind him, eyeing how his fingers twist. His head turns as he glances at you from the corner of his eye, his head dipping as his smile widens. The static in the air becomes thicker.

You take a deep breath. If you can say 'I told you so' to him, you will be bringing it up until the end of time. He knows that, so it's good that he's confident in himself and his deductions. He'll ensure you won't be leaving and isolating yourself any longer.

[hrefna-the-raven]

Home

Horror masterlist - Masterlist - Misc. masterlist

RZ Michael Myers x female nurse reader

Part 1 - 2

Words: 1476

Warnings: smut (18+)

Summary: Michael has escaped Smith Grove's Sanitarium...

Reader: short female reader, female genitals in smut scenes

The voice echoing in his mind persisted, urging him to go to Haddonfield but the back door he was sliding open was miles away from it, for today he listened to another power rising from deep within. Stepping inside, he found himself standing in the kitchen, his eyes drawn to the assortment of sweets and candies neatly arranged on the countertop. A faint smile curled at the edges of his mouth, knowing that you had purchased each one of them according to the list. Right next to it, neatly folded, was a black witch costume with a small hat resting atop of it.

You were sitting on the couch, engrossed in the movie "Bates Motel" when a continued cold draft caught finally caught your attention. With a grunt, you switched off the TV and lifted your body from the comfort of the couch, making your way towards the kitchen. Your fingers fumbled in search of the light switch, and as it clicked on, your gaze shot up, landing on the tall masked man standing at the counter, his fingers gliding over the tiny hat from your costume. You immediately recognised deep blue striped pants and the torn dirty gray bathrobe that seemed tiny hanging on his imposing figure.

"Michael!", you shouted in shock and total disbelief.

Your body froze for a moment. It was something else seeing this mountain of man standing in your kitchen, close to midnight, all alone and far away from the security that Smith's Grove provided. How could he even be here? Did he escape? Just as you wondered why nobody had informed you about the escape of the patient you mainly took care of, the sharp ringing of the wall-mounted phone next to you startled both you and Michael. Without diverting your gaze from him, you reached out and grabbed the phone, placing it against your ear and waiting a moment before speaking.

"Hello?"

"Oh nurse, heavens! I'm glad I was able to reach you. Michael has escaped, he killed several on his way out."

There was a pause on the other side as Loomis waited for your reply. Any sane person would have freaked out while being trapped alone in their home with the sanitarium's most infamous patient. The doctor on the other end of the line was you're only chance to call for help and as the thoughts of what any sane person would have done in that moment flashed before your inner vision, your body had its own surprise in store for you. Your hand gestured for Michael to close the door behind him while you shot a warm smile at him before focusing back on the phone call.

"Oh my god, that's terrible! Did someone alarm the police? Do you know where he's headed?"

Michael blinked in disbelief as you faked a shocked tone while the traces of your smile still lingered on your lips. His eyes never left your figure, his hand fumbling behind him to close the door. The enigma that was you continued to surprise him, eluding the expectations formed by the cruel world around him, only to grace him with the kindness he not only thought lost after his mother stopped visiting him. No, you continued to surpass it and as he stood within your kitchen, he almost felt a sense of home, carrying his thoughts to the one he had back then as he briefly wondered where his little sister could be now.

"No I haven't seen him. Why would he come here? Have you checked in Haddonfield where his sister lives now?"

You winked at him, feeling freed from your confidential oath as he was technically, officially, not near you to overhear such information. Michael felt stunned at your response. Back in the sanitarium he had wondered more than once if you'd be able to peak into his mind as you always seemed to understand him so well and now you had answered the very question that had been lingering in his mind. A strange sensation burned underneath his skin as if he wanted to...wanted to kiss you. His breaths grew heavier and his hands pressed tightly against his sides, trying to hide the trembles.

"I'll keep a look out but I'm sure he won't waste any time coming here. You too. Goodnight Dr Loomis."

You hung up the phone and turned back to Michael, taking a few hesitant steps into his direction.

"So...uhm...what brought you here? You could also have tried to find your sister."

A small shivering breath came from behind the mask before Michael slowly pulled it off his face and pointed at you. Your brows furrowed for a moment and you contemplated on the possibilities before answering cautiously.

"Me? You came here because of me? To see me?"

He nodded, placing his mask on the counter beside your costume and sank to his knees, arms outstretched, waiting for you to approach him. He was aware that you probably knew the circumstances that led to his escape, Loomis would have surely informed you how much blood stained his hands tonight. And yet, you chose to send the doctor straight to Haddonfield all the while wearing a smile on your face. You had a choice tonight and you chose him. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes when you wrapped your arms around him, exhaling relieved at the shared closeness. It had been a long time since anyone had chosen him, and now here you were, gently cradling his face, your gaze filled with nothing but affection. His heart ached beautifully as the feeling of home nestled within. He leaned in closer, his lips pressing on yours in a, first, tender kiss that quickly morphed into burning passion he couldn't control any longer. Strong hands slid beneath your butt and you gasped when you were lifted onto the counter. Long fingers wrapped around your shorts and panties, tearing them off with such force that they were flying off to the corner of the kitchen.

"Michael!", you shrieked in surprise but your legs parting on their own betrayed your desire.

Michael groaned at the sight of your wet folds before him. Not only had you chosen him, but you were also willing to surrender yourself to him, to be his. He silently vowed to worship you as the angelic being that you were, grant you the pleasures of the heavens you descended from. Gently, he positioned your legs over his shoulders and leaned forward, his face coming tantalisingly close to your cunt and you could feel his breath fanning over your wetness. A deep, sinful moan escaped your lips as his tongue pressed flat against your swollen clit. His fingers dug deeper into your flesh as your sweet taste began to fill his mouth, igniting a feral hunger within him. His sloppy licks grew faster, sucking at your clit in between before shoving three fingers into your dripping entrance. You cried out in pleasure as he kept thrusting into you, pushing you fast towards the edge of your release. The man between your legs had nothing in common with the shy calm patient from the observation room, the one standing between your legs ate you out like a starved man, worshipping you for the loyalty you showed him. Your fingers entwined in his hair, urging him closer as you bucked your hips and cried out his name, panting and finally coming undone while pure bliss washed over you. Michael mumbled something against your folds before rising and using his sleeve to wipe away your juices from his face. You still breathed heavily, chuckling as you hopped off the countertop, searching for your pants in the kitchen corner.

"That was....wow....I-I should return the favour", you spoke softly, pulling up your pants.

As you glanced up, a short gasp escaped your lips as you discovered Michael already standing beside you, his arms sneaking around your waist as he placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

"Later", he murmured, his voice coarse and deep, "let's sleep."

Those little words, so simple and yet the desire that gave birth to them ran so deep. Michael never truly had someone, his dark thoughts being the only company he ever knew until, one day, you stepped through those doors in the Sanitarium. He had always wondered it how would to be to lie down in bed with someone, not a single worry in his world as only happiness seeped through his body and the warmth of your touch lulling him into slumber. You led him upstairs and cuddled up to him on your bed, slowly sinking into a blissful sleep in the arms of Haddonfield's most feared man. Michael caressed your arm, eyelids growing heavy as he drifted off, one final thought lingering before surrendering to the irresistible lure of slumber. Home...

Feel free to reblog if you enjoyed the story 😊

[tojisth3rdwife]

For her…

syn: a certain time of year was particularly hard for Toji, and you start to understand why..

cw: angst. grief. mamaguro🥹🕊️

a/n: idk..was in my feels today i guess🫠 relax and enjoy some bittersweetness with me

No one ever flat out told you why one day out of the year was just…different..at the Fushiguro house.

You were pretty perceptive of the change in Toji’s demeanor. The melancholic sheen over his eyes when he’d look at you, barely holding eye contact when you asked him a question and him being dismissive if it had anything to do with how he was acting.

He wasn’t mean or less patient with you or Megumi. He was just..different. He didn't say much. His laughter sounded a tad off, even forced at times. He slept a bit longer, usually blaming it on a recent job or his age, jokingly of course.

He moved around as if he operated on autopilot, unlike the agile and conscientious man you’d learned Toji to be . You’d catch him zoning out alot or being a little more forgetful than usual. Less focused, as if his mind was somewhere far away. Another place. Another time.

One summer morning you noticed a bottle of strawberry soda in the back of the fridge, tucked behind several items as if it were purposely placed there. Hidden. You’d only seen it because Megumi struggled to reach something on the same shelf, so you helped him You'd been meaning to ask Toji since when he even iiked that brand, seeing as how you never saw him or Megs drink it. You didn’t know him to be much of a soda drinker unless it was the occasional Coke on a scalding hot day.

But when you went back the next day to find it, it was gone. When you finally asked him about it, he’d just say he got it for Megs but he never drank it, and it had been in there for a while so he threw it out. That would have been believable if you didn’t find the same bottle hidden a little better in the back of the fridge again that following year around the same time.

“It's for my mom.” Megumi’s raspy voice makes you flinch from where he spooked you on the other side of the door. He was now tall enough to see over it, his lithe form springing up with each passing day it seemed. You blinked at him in surprise, your mouth gaping and in search of a reasonable excuse to be holding the soda that you’d dug out from the depths of the ice box. The chilled glass bottle was clutched against your chest when the spikey-headed boy stepped towards the open fridge to reach around you for a yogurt drink.

"Oh...I wasn't.." you stammered, only for the broody adolescent to interrupt you.

“It's her birthday tomorrow,” Megumi mutters shortly after he peels the cap back a little to take a sip, not saying anything else about the soda before walking away.

You watched him exit the kitchen in silence, an odd sensation tingling in your chest. You never heard Megumi speak of his late mother. Not even when he was smaller. From what you know, Toji's wife passed away shortly after Megumi was born. Something about an underlying heart condition that worsened after giving birth. Megs wasn't even a year old yet, so it made some sense that he didn't speak of her. He probably had no memories of his mother and was always accustomed to it just being him and his dad.

Until now at least...

Your attention returns to the soda, its slow-rising bubbles lining the neck of the glass bottle as you turn it slowly in your hand.

So every year, around his late wife's birthday, Toji bought the same brand of strawberry soda. For her.

Now that you thought of it, there was always this errand he’d always have to run on a certain day every year. Too consumed with life and work, you didn't realize it was on the same day. Every year.

An errand that would take him far out of the city very early in the morning.

You would roll over in the bed groggily, noting Toji sitting on the edge of his side. He’d be leaned over, lacing up his boots, fully dressed and smelling good. You knew sometimes he and Shiu would meet up early to discuss business so you never asked for details when he'd kiss your forehead goodbye.

He always came back to you around noon with a bouquet of sunflowers and red roses though, from a shop way out of the way, with a card that would read the same thing every time.

For you, just because <3

Toji knew you loved them and it made you less curious about his mysterious errand when he came back bearing gifts. In hindsight, you felt stupid and selfish for thinking they were 'just because' flowers now that you knew what this day meant to him.

Especially when you looked up the flower shop and found out it was less than a mile away from a cemetery.

That was why one year, days before he could find time to go to the store, and days after he gave you the heads up on his early morning errand, Toji found the newly bought bottle of strawberry soda in the fridge. You weren't around when he found it, which made the lump in Toji's throat even thicker at the realization.

He never really told you that every July 7th, he would visit a little florist's shop at the edge of a small town an hour away, where the owner would have a special arrangement that Toji ordered every year waiting for him. Preserved lilies and pink roses, a small bag of items from the convenience store across the street, and two glass bottles of soda (one strawberry and one Coke ) rest in his passenger seat for another 3 to 5 minutes as he pulls into the parking space that was always empty.

The morning sun warms his skin on his walk across the grass. Flowers, and plastic bag in tow, Toji steps with purpose on his way to his wife's grave. For a few minutes, he takes his time using the items in the small bag to scrub and rinse any dirt or grime tainting the granite. In the early years, Toji would visit and clean her grave stone frequently. He’d even bring baby Megumi with him since they still lived in the small town. The place where he and his wife made a life together.

But one day, after about 2 years had passed and Megumi became more active, Toji he realized that staying stuck in his grief was causing him to miss out on being mentally present in his child’s life.

And he knew she wouldn’t want that..

So he came alone now, placing the flowers down to replace the ones that had withered away, along with the opened bottle of strawberry soda nestled perfectly in the grass.

Toji squats to sit in front of the grave with his own beverage dangling between his knuckles, popping the cap off with his teeth and leaning forward to clink it gently against his wife's before taking a sip.

He would then spend about an hour or more just sitting there. Usually, he'd talk, not caring about how awkward it felt anymore.

He'd start out by wishing her happy birthday and telling her about how big Megumi is getting. How much he looks like her and all the little quirks he has that remind him of her. How smart and independent he is and how he takes care of his dad just as much as his dad takes care of him. He tells her about how he is doing. About his health and any recent injuries or ailments as a result of his job. He'd leave out what he still did to make money, even though he was sure she already knew. He'd talk about how getting older isn't as scary to him as it used to be, especially when he had someone that made him feel young again.

He'd tell her about how you came into his life and how hesitant he was about allowing you into his heart. Not that he had much of a choice. You just made it that easy. Leading with friendship, fostering a bond that wasn’t driven by lust or uninhibited emotions. Showing up for Megumi when he couldn’t due to work or making sure the both of them were taking proper care of themselves.

It always stuck in his mind how you never let his trauma or baggage scare you away, even if it should have, and how much your presence changed the way he saw love and life after losing someone so precious.

He would express the guilt he felt in loving you and her simultaneously. He didn't understand it. It wasn't as if there was a hierarchy in his heart, ranking one person over the other. He just couldn’t do that when he loved you both im different ways. It was just as if his heart had grown and all that she taught him about love years ago allowed more to pour in, making space for you.

He'd thank her for being his first love and for giving him the greatest gifts he could ever ask for. For teaching him how to love, and in turn, how to be loved as well.

That part of his conversation always got him emotional, and a breeze that didn’t touch anything but him with blow over his tearstained face. Even his hair would be tussled, reminiscent of the way his wife would tease his messy raven tresses in attempt to cheer him up.

Then he would smile, clear his throat and tell her he’d be back this time next year before rising to stand.

On his drive back, he’d glance at the new custom bouquet of sunflowers and red roses now in his passenger, his heart still twinged with a confusing mixture of guilt and relief riddling him. Relief to be leaving that small old town that only reminded him of a life that was now over. The life he thought would last much longer than it did. Every place held a memory that was colored yellow and blue in his mind, stored deep but never forgotten.

His guilt came mostly from the fact that he never could find a way to tell you why the birthday of his late wife was so hard for him and why he just needed to make that yearly trip on his own to visit her.

So one could only imagine the shock Toji felt that following year when he opened his fridge and found his late wife’s favorite soda.

Front and center. Not hidden or tucked away in the back. Unseen and easily forgotten. With a yellow sticky note placed over the label, easy to see and read.

In your handwriting…

For her, just because <3

[burstinn]

KÖNIG x FTM! READER

NSFW

Warnings nd Notes:

This was a request by a friend

(FtM reader who its their first time having sex. With König, König being a soft Dom)

Nsfw

Sex (18+) no minors

Gets lazy at the end

Short beginning at the end, rushed it as well

Reader is a bottom

It's König.. Again..

Did not add the size kink I read it to late when I rechecked the request

König never really knew you much, he never really understood you. You're not much of a show off person, you mostly keep your gear on. He's not judging all respects to you, he understands people like that.

That was not until you were sent on a mission together, and it went south.. Well for you anyway, your team got what they want. In expense getting you hurt in the process, and König was the only one who was close to you that can help.

So you radio him your location. Somewhere remote behind some rubble and tree. He saw you.. Your gear is off. And, maybe this was disrespectful but God. You looked so.. He didn't know how to put it, well he couldn't he had to snap out of it just to help you with your injuries.

He quickly rushed over to you, not wanting to comment about how you look. Or your.. Top surgery scars. He knew what those are, so he immediately understood why you usually don't take off your gear around anyone or how you usually don't speak much.

"Can you not tell.. Anyone about this?"

König hears you softly mutter as he finishes up your stitches. Silently eyeing you, then back to your chest.

"I won't.."

He replies back, handing you your bloodied gear which you forced yourself to wear.

That's when he started getting.. Interested in you. His own curiosity slowly flourishing into attraction towards you.

He would always find an excuse to hang out with you and it's not like you didn't notice, you're not dumb. Eventually, you did start to warm up to him. Letting yourself be, and finally confessing yes you are transgender on which he readily accepted you.

°°°

Which brings you to right now.

When you and König were joking around König suddenly brings up some sex or like sex stories or something.

Then you confessed to König, that you.. Are a virgin. Hard truth but yeah.. You felt slightly embarrassed.

"I.. Don't have any stories, König I never had-"

"You never slept with anyone..?"

"Yeah"

°°°

The soft creaking of the bed contrasting, your loud moans it reverberating throughout the walls of the room.

You whine digging your nails deep on the sheets of the bed.

Burying your head on the tear stained pillow, crying and gasping out.

You laying on your stomach, squirming under König. His length slowly inching himself inside of you. Whispering small praises and assurance in German and English that goes unheard by you, feeling yourself getting high off Königs cock already.

It hurt but fuck it felt good

You knew König was trying hard to be gentle with you, even if he did want to chase his own pleasure. But, No he focused on yours.

His thick cocks pushing down inside your soft squelching hole.

You thought you could handle it really, you prepared yourself. All that was thrown out by your incessant loud muffled whines.

His rough heavy arms slowly moving up and down your waist, pulling you slowly deeper into his cock.

"Shh.. It's alright, you're okay. You're doing so well"

"Mein maus, just breath.."

You couldn't even answer if you wanted too, opening your mouth only led to more choked out cries looking out of your mouth.

König bends over trailing his hand along your back his hand slowly reaching your neck.

His hot breath sticking to your neck, making your breath hitch in arousal. The hand on your neck moves to your mouth, shutting out your wails of pleasure.

"Es tut mir leid.. Bitte, keep it down please-"

Königs voice just as shaky as your trembling body everytime he pushes his hips forward, hitting that bundle of nerves that makes you arch your back, letting you see stars.

"Just.. Just a little bit, I'm close"

He whispers, his soft lips suckling on the soft skin of your neck. His pace slightly picks up just so he can finish faster, his actions getting more sloppy by how much close he is. He wants to cum badly..

He doesn't even mind that your getting louder to the point his hand covering your mouth almost has little effect. More tears coming out of you, one of his hand on your hip trying to keep you mouth the other on your mouth.

"That's it good boy, gut, Haah--.. So good for me"

König gasps out

The back of his balls already hitting the rear of your ass, but he doesn't stop, opting to go in and out of you. The grip on your hips and mouth tightening every time his dick pushes back inside of your tight hole.

He whines, resting his head on your shoulder, Struggling to hold himself to start fucking you senseless,stoppinghimself to just lift up your lower half and just use you as a fuck hole.

He's close, so close.

"Liebe, are.. Are you close?"

You weakly nod, clenching your hole around his hard soppy dick only makes him want to fuck you harder like no tomorrow.

"Alright.. Alright.. We'll finish together.."

He breaths, fucking in and out of you fast but gently. Removing his hand out of your mouth to focus on you until youre ready to cum. Well it doesn't take long anyway, virgin.

"König.. König! I'm going to-- I'm gonna"

You didn't need to say anything more. He pumps his dick inside of you one last time lifting your ass before he spurts inside of you. While you cum on the sheets on Königs legs as well. As you both groan in satisfaction and relief.

He stays inside of you for a moment, before pulling out slowly. Drips of his cum seeping out of your hole, he gets off you lying right next to you. Both you and his chest breathing heavily from what just transpired. He tilts his head to you, him staring at your puffy face. His tired face frowns slightly in guilt.

"I'm sorry.. Did it hurt? I should've.."

"Shut up.."

You respond shifting your body weight to just move closer to him.

"You did.. Great"

Mumbling as you kiss König on his lips, laying back down beside him as he just stares dumbfounded for some reason. Quickly recovering he smiles to himself, hugging you.

Now you both fell asleep, nice slumber haha, a good fuck and some fluff hahah I'm going to bed. (I lied I'm not going to bed.. I'm just lazy)

[seungfl0wer]

*Who do you belong to?*

Paring: Felix x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Pure smut

Warnings: Dirty talk, Unprotected sex, Cream Pie, Biting, Slight choking, Throat fucking, Hair pulling. I think that’s all? I’m bad at these.

This may not be suitable for everyone, this is your last warning.

For @gnabnahcsworld who really needed more Dom Felix and I’m happy to deliver 😘 hopefully it doesn’t suck lol

-🩵

You had come to this party with your boyfriend Felix to celebrate one of his colleagues. Since the party was work related he was off mingling with everyone. You found yourself talking to one of his colleagues about something when Felix who finally found you a good 10minutes later stood there shooting daggers at the other man. It didn’t help The party in question was one of those rich people’s parties, all elegant and snazzy with a dress code. So Felix was in a nice tailored suit tie to match your dress. Your dress was to your knees, it showed off every beautiful curve of your body. It was actually lix’s choice for you to wear it.

The problem with that is you looked so good everyone was eyeing you up. He couldn’t help see how everyone was just ogling. He stood across from you tongue pressed to his cheek brows forward just staring as you spoke to a guy. A guy who he in fact wanted nothing more to punch for how close he was to you. You on the other hand were just happy to be there, you didn’t notice the eyes on you. Didn’t even take notice of the man blatantly flirting with you.

You felt lix’s eyes looking at you not realizing he was getting jealous, you just smiled at him. That smile quickly faded as you could see it all written on his face. Felix was never good at hiding his emotions, his face would always give it away and boy did it ever right now. You made your way over to him before giving him a puppy dog look “what’s the matter lixie? You ok?” You asked. He gave you a slow nod focused on something else. Before you could ask him about it though he had taken your hand leading you across the room.

He lead you to a side room locking the door behind him as you both entered. You turned to him but you didn’t get the chance to even speak before his lips crashed against yours. His kisses were hungry, his eyes dark and his touch feral. He bit the bottom of your lip as his lips latched to your neck. You let out a soft moan before lix had his hand over your mouth. “As much as I want them to hear you screaming my name I’m not trying to get fired.” He said with a soft chuckle.

He left sloppy kisses on your neck, biting down leaving small marks as he licked them soothing them after. His hands found their way under your dress, quickly diving to your soaking cunt. You both groaned at the feeling. Feeling needy. So needy for him.

His fingers curled inside you quickening his pace, as his bites became harsher on your neck. Man loved leaving marks on you. He loved knowing the fact people would know you were his. His and his only.

His hand that was over your mouth found its way to your hair. His fingers tangled in it pulling your head to the side so he could get to your neck better. As his hand slipped away your moans quickly filled the room. He shot a look up to you “keep quiet or your punishment will be worse” he almost hissed. You let out a small whimper bringing your hand over your own mouth this time to muffle your sounds.

Felix removed his fingers from you leaving you whining from the loss of them. He brought them up to lick all your juices off before finding a chair to sit on. As he did so he motioned you over “since you wanna talk to other guys you’re gonna suck me off before I remind you who’s you are.” He said his voice low almost a growl.

You nodded his words making your cunt tremble. He was so fucking hot like this. You loved when he become more dominant. Felix dropped his pants manspreading on the chair cock at full view for you. Your mouth almost watered at the sight. You wasted no time, slowly kissing the tip before bobbing your head down. Your hands went to reach for your clit but lix growled out a deep “no touching” into your ear.

You whined but listened not wanting to get punished for not listening. Felix ran his fingers through your hair again he pushed your head down, making you take all of him. He always enjoyed using your throat for his pleasure. He quickly started to fuck your mouth. Your eyes squinting as small tears welded up at your eyes chocking around his cock. He left out the most sinful groans his movements becoming sloppy as he hit the back of your throat.

He was gonna cum and he was gonna cum hard. He quickened his pace throat fucking you good. You could feel yourself becoming drenched at the feeling of him. You wanted him to cum so he could fuck your soaking cunt.

As he came his hips trembled, his cock still back your throat letting out the hot sticky liquid. He watched as you swallowed it as the good like the good little girl you were. His eyes were so dark, full of lust for you ready for him to burry his cock deep inside you.

He wasted no time standing up. He pulled you up hands under you chin kissing you swiftly before bending you over a desk. He grabbed his cock running it over your sopping wet cunt before pushing in deep. He didn’t give you anytime before he started to pound into you. He went deep. Feeling every part of his cock filling your hole. He knew how you liked it knew the things to get you off and boy was he good at it.

He grabbed your arms pulling them back to grip them as he fucked into you harder “you think that guy could fuck as good as I can?” He said. You shook your head no “say it princess use your words” he said gripping your hair now. Pulling your head to him to say into your ear “Tell me how much you love my cock. Tell me how good I feel pounding you princess. We both know that guy could never satisfy you like I can.” His words finally clicking in your head as to why this all happened. You wanted to tease him tell him you didn’t know if he was better or something but you wanted to walk outta here not have to be wheel chaired out.

You whined back at him your words breathy “n- no one can ever make me feel this good” you said trying to keep composure. You could feel your high coming and the way his cock was twitching his was coming too. “Who’s are you princess, who does this pretty little cunt belong to huh?” He groaned out. Your body was shaking the feeling of him pounding you so hard. His hand smacked your ass leaving a nice size hand print, Before it made its way to your clit. You were so close to coming undone.

“Im yours!” You almost screamed back his hand now playing with your swollen clit “what’s my name” he said taking his other hand to grip around your neck “say my name baby and you can cum.” He said his hand moving fast on your clit as he pounded into you. His thrusts becoming sloppy as his grip around your neck also softened. You knew he was about to cum but he wanted to cum with you.

“Felix!! Fucking god Felix fuck” you moaned his name out loudly loud enough everyone there probably heard you but you couldn’t help it. You felt your high coming “fuck cum for- for me princess I’m cumming too” he breathed out. His hands gripped your hips pushing himself as deep as possible before unloading deep inside of you. You coming undone as well your high hitting you hard. Body shaking as both of your moans filled the room. Felix slumped over you both of you trying to catch your breath.

“That- was hot as hell” you said as he let out a chuckle at your words “yeah well so are you in that dress” he said as he peppered kisses on you. His cock still buried deep inside of you. “Y/n one problem” he said with a smirk. You tilted your head at the his words “my cums gonna drip from you when we go out.” He said as he pulled out pulling your pantries back up. You laughed a bit “well this will make your point that I’m all yours” you teased making you both laugh. He kissed your nose quickly “how about we go home, get some ice cream and just cuddle? I don’t like these parties anyways” he said taking your hand and pulling you out the room.

💙 if you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open feel free to send me something🩵

[paddockletters]

unseen | jude bellingham

pairing: jude bellingham x reader  request: yes / Reader who was bullied when young and then jude and her go to her hometown and everyone feels out cause that freaking jude bellingham and they get like, impressed by reader success as an f1 engineer and that she bagged jude? Sorry its way too specific author’s note: Hope you liked it!... as I always say... english is not my first language so pardon me if there are mistakes —feel free to tell me— and my requests are open!👀

The memories of my school days never really left me. Every now and then, they’d come creeping back — a careless comment someone made, or the way people used to whisper when I walked past. I could still picture the sneers, the cold stares, and the cutting remarks. The bullying wasn’t always physical, but the emotional scars felt just as deep. Being the quiet girl who loved math, cars, and physics made me an easy target. I didn’t fit in with the other girls who were into makeup and parties. I was more interested in tweaking engines and dreaming of Formula 1. That difference marked me.

It all began in middle school when I started to realize just how out of place I was. My grades were high, my social skills not so much. Every time I raised my hand in class, there’d be snickers. Every time I’d walk down the hall with my oversized glasses, someone would mutter a snide remark. The bullying wasn’t brutal, but it was consistent, gnawing at me bit by bit. High school wasn’t much better. The teasing continued, though by then, I had learned to keep my head down and drown out the noise by focusing on my dream of working in Formula 1.

Fast forward a few years, and here I am — an engineer for one of the top F1 teams. The transformation was surreal. Sometimes, I still have to pinch myself. Who would’ve thought that the same girl who spent her lunch breaks in the library, sketching out car designs, would one day be standing in the pit lane at Monaco?

But something even crazier happened along the way — I met Jude Bellingham.

It wasn’t some grand, love-at-first-sight story. I wasn’t starstruck when I first saw him. In fact, I didn’t even know who he was. We met at a charity event, one aimed at inspiring young athletes and professionals from underprivileged backgrounds to chase their dreams. Jude was there as the football star, while I had been invited to speak about my journey into F1. He seemed genuinely interested during my talk, but we didn’t interact much that day. It wasn’t until I received a DM on Instagram a few days later that things really started.

“Hey, I loved your speech at the event. I’m Jude, by the way — football player. Would love to grab coffee sometime if you’re up for it.”

I remember staring at my phone, thinking it was a prank. A football star wanted to get coffee with me? It felt like a joke. But I responded, and we met. Coffee turned into long dinners, long dinners turned into walks in the park, and those walks turned into a relationship.

Jude wasn’t what I expected. Sure, he was famous, but he was also kind, funny, and remarkably down-to-earth. He never treated me like I was less important than him. If anything, he seemed fascinated by my work. He’d ask me endless questions about the F1 cars, the strategies, the engineering behind the speed. I’d tease him about football, asking if he really knew what went into designing the perfect car. We just clicked.

Still, going back to my hometown was something I hadn’t done in years. The memories were too bitter. But Jude wanted to go. He wanted to see where I grew up, to meet the people who had shaped me, for better or worse. So we planned a trip. I was nervous as hell, but Jude? He was excited.

The car ride to my hometown felt like an eternity. As Jude hummed along to the soft rhythm of the music playing through the speakers, my mind was far from the road. I hadn’t been back here in years, not since I’d left for university. The thought of returning had always been… daunting. I wasn’t ready to face the ghosts of the past. Or, more specifically, the people who had made my life a living hell when I was younger.

I glanced at Jude, who was focused on the road, one hand casually resting on the wheel, the other on my leg, giving me an occasional reassuring squeeze. His presence grounded me, but that nervous pit in my stomach kept growing the closer we got.

“You’re quiet,” he said, glancing at me.

I forced a smile. “Just... thinking.”

Jude raised an eyebrow, his tone soft as he asked, “About?”

“About how weird this is going to be. I haven’t been back here in years, Jude. People… they remember things. They remember who I was.”

“And who you were is exactly who I love. You know that, right?” he said, giving my thigh another squeeze.

I chuckled softly, leaning back into the seat, trying to push the anxiety down.

“I know. It’s just that, back then, I was the awkward girl who couldn’t fit in. Now I’m walking into town holding hands with Jude Bellingham. People are going to freak out.”

“They’ll freak out because you’re a freaking Formula 1 engineer, not because of me,” he said, grinning. “I bet half the people in town have posters of you in their garage next to their Ferrari die-casts or something.”

“Oh please,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “No one from my town cares about F1.”

“They should. You’re a genius.”

Jude’s words were always so simple, but they held so much weight. He had a way of making me feel seen, really seen, in a way no one else ever had. That’s what made everything with him feel so different. He wasn’t just the football star that millions of people idolized; he was my Jude, the one who asked me about race strategies and remembered the names of the engineers on my team.

We arrived at the town square just as the afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the small, familiar streets. The sight of it brought back a wave of memories — good and bad. It was strange how everything looked smaller now, less intimidating. The buildings I used to walk past with my head down, trying not to be noticed, now seemed so ordinary.

Jude parked the car, pulling his baseball cap down over his head as we stepped out. I could already see a few people glancing in our direction, their eyes widening with recognition. They weren’t just looking at him, though. They were looking at me.

“Hey, you okay?” Jude asked, stepping closer to me, his arm wrapping around my waist.

I nodded, even though I wasn’t entirely sure. “Yeah, it’s just… surreal.”

We started walking through the town square, hand in hand. I tried to ignore the stares, the whispers. But they were everywhere.

“Oh my god, is that… Jude Bellingham?”

“Wait, isn’t that the girl who used to go to school here? She’s, like, a big deal now, right?”

“I heard she works in Formula 1. How did she end up with him?”

I bit my lip, feeling the familiar wave of insecurity creeping in. But Jude seemed unfazed. If anything, he walked a little taller, as if daring anyone to say something negative. He pulled me in closer, planting a kiss on my temple as we crossed the square.

As we walked into the shopping center, we decided to stop by a café for a drink. I could already feel the buzz of recognition in the air as people realized who Jude was.

Jude sat across from me, casually sipping his drink as if we were anywhere else in the world. He had his cap pulled low over his face, trying to avoid drawing attention, but it was hard not to notice him. He was Jude Bellingham after all.

The stares had started the moment we walked into the square, but he didn’t seem to mind. He had this effortless calm about him, the way he handled attention, fame. Meanwhile, I was doing my best not to feel like I was under a spotlight, even though I knew people were whispering and pointing, probably trying to figure out why he was with me.

I caught a glance from a group of teenagers at the table across from us. They were huddled together, looking our way, giggling and whispering. I sighed, already feeling a bit on edge.

Jude noticed. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and gentle.

I forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, just... weird being back here.”

“I can imagine,” he said, reaching across the table to take my hand. His thumb brushed over my knuckles in that soothing way he always did. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

I took a deep breath, glancing around the café. “It’s fine. Just... a lot of memories, you know?”

He squeezed my hand, his gaze soft and understanding. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” I said, surprising myself. I had never really told him the full story before.

He knew bits and pieces, but I had kept most of it to myself. Maybe it was time to let him in.

I looked down at our intertwined hands, thinking back to those years.

“I wasn’t exactly the most popular kid,” I started, my voice quieter than I intended.

“I was the one they picked on. The ‘geeky’ one. I loved math, engineering, all the stuff no one else thought was cool. I spent more time in the library than anywhere else. They made fun of me for it—my glasses, my clothes, the fact that I never fit in.”

Jude’s expression softened. “Kids can be cruel.”

“They were,” I agreed, a bitter laugh escaping me. “It wasn’t just teasing though. It got pretty bad at times. I used to dread coming to school. Every day felt like walking into a battlefield. I just wanted to disappear, you know?”

Jude’s grip on my hand tightened slightly. “I hate that you went through that.”

I shrugged, trying to play it off like it didn’t matter anymore.

“It’s in the past. I got out. I became an F1 engineer, so jokes on them, I guess.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t have to act like it doesn’t still hurt. It’s okay to feel that.”

I looked up at him, my throat tightening with the emotion I hadn’t realized was building up.

“It does, sometimes. I mean, I know I’ve made it, but coming back here... it just brings all that stuff up again.”

He stood up then, coming around the table to sit beside me. Without a word, he pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me protectively.

“You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for,” he whispered into my hair. “You’re brilliant, and you’ve worked so hard to get where you are. They didn’t see that back then, but it doesn’t matter. I see it. The world sees it now.”

I leaned into him, letting his warmth and words wrap around me like a blanket.

We stayed like that for a few moments before pulling apart slightly, Jude resting his forehead against mine.

“You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone here,” he said softly. “You’re you, and that’s more than enough.”

I smiled, squeezing his hand. “Thank you. For always knowing what to say.”

Jude grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Well, you did bag me, so I’d say you’re doing something right.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s part of my charm,” he teased, flashing that trademark grin.

As we sat there, talking about everything and nothing, a few more people came up to us. A couple of them recognized me from school. I could see the surprise in their eyes, like they couldn’t believe the girl they used to tease was sitting here with a world-famous footballer.

“Hey, I remember you,” a girl of the group said, her voice laced with nostalgia. “You were in my physics class, right?”

I nodded, offering a polite smile. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Wow,” she said, glancing between me and Jude. “I heard you’re doing big things now. Formula 1, right?”

“Yeah, I’m an engineer for one of the teams.”

“That’s… amazing,” she said, looking genuinely impressed. “I always knew you were smart, but I didn’t realize… well, you know.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond, but Jude jumped in, his arm draping casually around my shoulders.

“She’s a genius. She’ll never admit it, but she’s probably the best engineer in F1 right now.”

I blushed, nudging him playfully. “Stop exaggerating.”

The girl chuckled awkwardly, clearly a bit starstruck by Jude’s presence. “Well, it’s great to see you doing so well. And… with him. That’s pretty cool.”

After she left, I turned to Jude, who was grinning like he’d just won the Champions League.

“What?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jude grinned. “See? People notice. They’re impressed, as they should be.”

I rolled my eyes playfully. “You’re biased.”

“Maybe,” he said, leaning in to kiss my temple. “But I’m also right.”

As we walked through the shopping center, I could still feel people glancing our way, some whispering, others taking quick pictures on their phones. But for the first time, I didn’t feel like the awkward, out-of-place girl from school. I felt like someone who had earned her place in the world, someone who had worked hard and made it.

A few more people came up to Jude, asking for pictures or autographs, but he always made sure to include me in the conversation, making it clear that I wasn’t just the girl on his arm. I was someone in my own right.

At one point, a young girl, probably no older than ten, approached me shyly. She held a notebook in her hand, her eyes wide with admiration.

“Excuse me,” she said quietly, “are you the F1 engineer? The one who works with the cars?”

I blinked in surprise, glancing at Jude before nodding. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Her face lit up, and she held out her notebook. “Could I have your autograph? I want to be an engineer one day, just like you.”

My heart melted, and I took the notebook from her, scribbling my name with a quick message of encouragement. “You can be whatever you want to be,” I told her, handing it back. “Just keep working hard and never stop believing in yourself.”

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Thank you!”

As she ran off, I turned to Jude, who was watching me with a proud smile.

“See?” he said softly. “You’re a role model.”

I smiled, leaning into him. “I guess I am.”

As we walked, Jude nudged me with his elbow.

“You handled that like a pro.”

“I don’t know how you do it all the time,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief.

He laughed. “You get used to it.”

Jude looked over at me, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

I glanced up at him, my heart swelling with affection. “For what?”

“For being you. For everything you’ve accomplished. And for putting up with me,” he teased, nudging me playfully.

I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in years. “It’s not always easy, but I manage.”

As we left the shopping center and headed back to the car, I realized something important. This place might have been where my story started, but it didn’t define me anymore. I had moved on, grown, become someone I was proud of. And with Jude by my side, I knew I could face whatever came next, even if it meant coming back to the place I once tried so hard to leave behind.