#feel free to ask about any more it might just take me a minute to get round to it

[candyswirls]

Space Marine Cuddle Pile PT 2

Continuation of this.

@wolf-feathers12 you owe me fifty cookies and I’m gluten free

Imagine:

Titus is not quite new anymore to the watch. He’s slowly opening up to his squad mates but still is apprehensive. The mission has been a success and his squad wants to celebrate. They worked well together. But Titus does not wish to participate. He is bitter and mournful. News that the Primarch, Roboute Guilliman, had returned came through a few days ago. He was overjoyed at hearing that. But he doesn’t get to celebrate. Not when he’s dishonored his chapter. Not when he’s a black shield. Not when he can’t celebrate with his brothers. Before he can go to the training cages, a squad mate pulls him back, not taking no for an answer. He may have not told them his chapter and was using another name but they can tell how hard the last few days have been. Rather than celebrating they all huddle together, one with another. They miss each of their chapters and brothers. But they can find comfort in one another. It’s a moment of reprieve for the ex-captain’s broken heart.

As an Emperors’ children you are far more prone to cuddling than one might think. You were always underestimated. Many scoffed at your legion and chalked you up to pompous and egotistical men. Some of that was true but it didn’t make it hurt any less. Even more hurtful was the rejection of your Primarch. He didn’t want you or your brothers. He would not lead. You all were so desperate that some followed his clone when he showed up. You’re all scattered and trying what you can to make Fulgrim proud and have him return. Sometimes the rejection hurts so much you’ll curl up together in a pile. Pretending the weight is your Primarch, welcoming you back and saying that you’ve done well. That you’re worthy of his love. Those who are a part of war bands tend to be flock to bigger Astartes. Craving large and warm arms to wrap around you and say it’s okay. You’re not useless or worthless. You’re not an object or disposable.

Little known fact about Iron Warriors. You will cuddle anyone but your own legion. You’re so touch starved and refuse to ask for it due to how the chapter is. Cuddling your brothers? Revolting. Your Primarch won’t do it. Cold and refusing to show any weakness. But the minute any other traitor Astartes wants to start a pile or even a daemon or cultist request a hug, you’re there. You will not say anything and you’re definitely not saying no. You will just join in. If you see a cuddle pile you won’t ask, you’re suddenly in the middle. Emperor’s Children tend to like Iron Warrior’s for this reason. Might as well write “Free Hugs” on the back of their armor.

Newly joined Blood Angels feeling the psychic wound of their genefathers death. The looming of the red thirst and the chance of falling to the black rage. Their new brothers hold them in a large mass. Safe and warm to let them know that they’re not alone. They all feel the pain. They all mourn their father and fallen brethren. They all share it. So they share their hugs and affection.

Black Templars having massive sermons where the chaplain gets emotional and they all hold one another as they recite prayers. Hold each other up. Being strong like Dorn. Their Primarch isn’t here but they are here for each other.

Night Lords will cram themselves into dark and tight places to hide, entangled in each other’s arms. Their Primarch was mad and didn’t care for them. They have to care for each other. Everything they do is vile and violent. Except for this. Ever so gentle touches, protective embraces, the most tender of running hands through hair, gentle head butting. They are one of the most affectionate legions but only with each other. Silent as they relish in each other’s deep rooted sadness and hatred for themselves and solace of being with one another.

Lorgar finally has a moment of silence as the word bearers are escorted away from Monarchia by the Ultramarines. The emperor’s wrath had been fierce. He ends up dropping to his knees and pulling his closest son into an embrace. The others around him move forward without thinking. He pulls so many into his arms, has them laying their heads on his shoulders and back. Pressing their cheeks and foreheads to his own as he cries prayers he wrote. They were innocent! Loyal to him! He had done this for him! All that work! It was a gift! A tribute! He just burned it away! Killed them all. Rejected it. He’s in so much pain and anger but having his sons close eases it a bit.

Magnus clings to his sons. They don’t react as dust swirls within the armor. Foolish stupid Ahriman. He had managed to save the remaining few and bring them into the warp. Relieved that they all weren’t dead. This seemed worse though. He presses a kiss to the top of one’s helmet, praying that there’s some bit of conscious in there. Those that were unaffected are huddled behind him as his new wings caress them.

He wasn’t very affectionate. Mortarion had grown up shying away from it and he rarely indulged in cuddle piles. But after so many had died from horrid plagues and sicknesses, he had to pledge himself to Nurgle. It didn’t matter though. His sons were saved and himself. He had sat himself on the ground and big then to come forth. Some were nuzzled into his side, a few rested their heads on his torso. He was surrounded by his sons. Safe. He didn’t care what it had taken or what would happen next.

[bookwhimses]

Hi! Can I ask about the Disneyland AU and the trouble with mistletoe? (and, if you don't mind doing three, the holistic haunted house - is that the Ghosts AU? Vika sent me the opening script and I need to know more??)

Hi back at you! Yes, absolutely, thank you for asking, it makes me feel hype about my WIPs. I'll have to get back to you maybe tomorrow on the Disneyland AU one because going through the doc there are things I want to clarify first before I can figure out what bits would be good to share. I'll tag you in a post about it when I figure it out, though! The holistic haunted house is the Ghosts AU, yeah! The basic summary is:

Amanda moves to the UK when she unexpectedly inherits an ancient estate from a distant relative, taking her friend Tina with her. They both desperately want a change of scenery – Tina is on the tail-end of addiction rehabilitation, and Amanda has been stuck in the house and struggling with work due to pararibulitis. Amanda also knows that her brother Todd, who fell out with the family six years prior, went to that area of the UK last she heard, and might be somewhere in the village near the estate. She’s uncertain if she wants to reconnect, knows she hasn’t forgiven him, but also does miss him.

They plan to turn the house into a hotel or multi-room AirBnB, but when they arrive the house is massive in disrepair and the project is bigger than they imagined. After Amanda has her first pararibulitis attack in the house she starts seeing ghosts in the house, including what seems to be the ghost of Todd.

Tonally it's slightly darker than Ghosts but not to the point of it being horror or thriller, it mainly leans more towards DGHDA's level of sci-fi/fantasy madness. Most of the DGHDA cast are ghosts and many of them have powers to varying degrees of strength.

Dirk is a Regency dandy who can talk to and manifest in front of living people but can't do it on command. He was the only ghost in the house apart from Bart and Mona for a very long time and was very lonely, as they aren't super social compared to him. He is constantly coming up with elaborate explanations for his death but it's unclear how he died.

Todd is a modern day ghost and the most recent addition to the ghosthold. He doesn't appear to have any powers. He refuses to talk about how he died. Dirk is extremely eager to be his friend and Todd is weird around him and generally avoids him. This does not stop Dirk from trying.

Farah was a land girl during World War II. She can show up in photographs, and occasionally in mirrors, to some living people, but not all. She falls in love with Tina at first sight and then represses it strenuously. She died from tuberculosis while working on the estate's grounds farming for the war effort.

Bart is from an indeterminate time period; it's hard to tell due to how filthy she is. She can kill people, but she mostly doesn't. She spends most of her time in the underground levels or out on the skirts of the property and isn't very talkative.

Mona isn't a ghost. She's something else. Dirk calls her a "little soul". Farah calls her a poltergeist. Todd thinks she's literally a demon pretending to be a child Sally House style. Mona can take on different shapes both in sight of the dead and the living, can talk to the living at will, can move objects and affect ambient temperature and electrical objects, and once possessed a real estate agent. Dirk taught her how to read. She mostly stays in the attic. She terrifies everyone but Dirk.

There's also a bunch of other ghosts who live mostly outside the main house and like to do their own thing, like the Rowdies, a group of 80s anarchists who accidentally set themselves on fire while torching the north wing; Hugo, a soldier who accidentally shot himself while training (he doesn't have any powers but he claims he met God); the Mage, a Tory politician who died during a hunting accident while on a country weekend, and Panto and Silas, who live out in one of the stone gazebos in the garden and died while LARPing Romeo and Juliet too enthusiastically in 2003.

The Trouble With Mistletoe is a Christmas fic I started back in late 2019. I think it was one of the first fics I ever started and I've got a decent amount written, but the plot is convoluted/confused and needs some drastic reworking. The initial main premise is that post-s2 Dirk decks out the office to the nines with Christmas shit, including a piece of mistletoe, hoping to sneak a kiss from Todd. The universe decides it wants him to suffer (hint: the universe is Me) and things keep going wrong no matter how elaborate Dirk's machinations get. This sounds like a fairly simple premise, no? Not for me. Somehow I've written more scenes for this fic almost every Christmas since and I only get more confused about the A plot and the B plot, and whether the B plot should exist at all. You can tell by the first reference in the following snippet how long I've been trying to write this thing.

“Woah. Fuck, dudes. Whose kid got trapped in the Upside Down?”

This was Tina’s less than dazzling review of Dirk’s Christmas decorations, delivered without ceremony to the entire room upon walking into the office. Dirk didn’t really understand the question, and when he asked about it Tina began to explain something about a Netflix show about traumatised children and nightmare monsters until Todd and Farah, in what Dirk assumed to be one of those little coincidences he so often encountered in life, simultaneously burst into hacking coughs and flailed at their desks as if suddenly finding themselves trapped in an infomercial. Farah flung her arm out and knocked her entire pen canister off her desk, scattering carefully organised biros across the floor. Todd picked up a stack of papers and threw them in the air. Both created sufficiently consuming disturbances that by the time they had been seen to and Dirk had been satisfied that they weren’t having some sort of telepathically linked seizure (he did have some pretext for this, in Todd’s case at least), Dirk had completely forgotten about whatever it was that Tina was trying to tell him about.

Dirk didn’t really understand why both his friends had chosen to wreak havoc on their own work spaces, but he knew he was a little odd by their standards too, and it was Christmas, so live and let live.

Tina didn’t notice the piece de resistance of Dirk’s decorating efforts until later in the afternoon, by which time she had spent the better part of two hours alternatively lounging on the client couch and being told off by Farah, and lounging in Farah’s desk and being told off by Farah. After a particularly hard slap on the wrist Tina had retreated, with a somewhat desultory glare, to the kitchenette, at which point she had noticed the mistletoe hanging there.

“Oh, heyyyyy,” she drawled, grinning widely. “Nice.”

Dirk cursed her and her lack of subtlety.

[teddybeartoji]

“look at me, hm?”

toji's voice is barely above a whisper, his words softer than ever. with his hands circled around your middle, he stands there behind you, his chest glued against your back like a big bear. his heavy head rests on your shoulder, eyes locked onto yours in a quiet plea. you think you hear a pout in his tone. 

but you don’t give him a reaction, gaze locked onto the vegetables on the cutting board in front of you.

you’re upset with him and toji feels like he's dying.

all of this just because you're jealous.

because the love of his life is jealous. 

toji only spared her a glance, brushing her off and saying that his partner is waiting for him – she’s the one that went on and on, talking about the milk carton in his hands as if toji had never seen it before. but little do you know, every single word that spilled from the stranger, went in one ear and right out the other – toji couldn’t be less interested in anybody other than you. if you were to crack open his head and take a look around, it’d be all you. you and your laugh, you and your eyes, you and your hands, you and your hobbies. you and you and you. even when he was standing there with the milk carton in his hand, the only thing on his mind was how he’s going to watch you chomp down a big bowl of cereal the next morning. 

you just happened to see the moment the woman leaned closer with a charming smile on her lips and her hand on his forearm while saying her goodbye, and that was enough for the ugly thoughts to bully themselves into your head.

even though you trust toji, you know he doesn’t entertain any flirting attempts that might come his way, but sometimes… sometimes you just can’t help but feel that you might not be enough. what if he did think the woman was more beautiful, or maybe he did find the guy, who asked for his help at the gym the other day, hot? what if he found them more interesting than you, what if he feels himself stuck to you against his will? 

you heard your own words swimming around in your head and cringed at yourself, ashamed that you were letting that weird growth of jealousy torment you.

but it had already taken root. 

that evil, ugly little thing in the back of your mind. and you couldn’t shake it.

not on your own at least. 

toji had made his way over to you, taking his place by your side while squinting at the little piece of paper in his hands. but you were quiet, more so than usual, and toji isn’t stupid – he might not be the best with feelings and emotions, but he does know you. 

he could tell just by the way you avoided his gaze, the way you started to shorten your answers. the way you pulled away and into yourself – he watched you disappear into your own head right in front of his eyes and he hated it. 

but not wanting to push any wrong buttons here in public, he swallowed your silence with a heavy heart and guided you to your car with a hand on your lower back. he’s not as afraid as he used to be – he isn’t as scared to step into your space, now knowing that this is just what you need sometimes. a little push, a little nudge, to break free from the vines of envy and jealousy and doubt. he’ll burn them, he’ll cut you free. 

the car ride home was quiet. with your head rested against the window and eyes set on the passing buildings and cars, toji found himself stealing glances at you every chance he got. oh, how he hated the pout on your lips, the very same one you’re wearing now. all he wanted to do was to take you into his arms and kiss you, hold you. to make you laugh. to make you forget every single thing that has ever bothered you.

toji let you simmer for exactly ten minutes, just enough for you to change into your pyjamas and to wash up before deciding on your distraction – the dishes. he snuck up on you as silently as he could; the tips of his fingers itched to feel your skin under them, his ears tired from the silence in the apartment. the sigh that you let out as he pressed himself flush against you, sounded better than anything before. toji had already started to miss you in those twenty minutes you were away from him. 

“please… “

it’s not often you get to hear that word, especially in that tone, so it’s hard for you to ignore the stuttering of your poor, sensitive heart. his nose nudges against your cheek and you put down the knife to lean into him on instinct; with your hands on top of his, your bodies mold together like pieces of a puzzle. 

“you know you’re the only one for me…�� 

the words form in the back of his mouth and roll from his tongue like a low purr. they’re coated in something sweet, in something only you get to see and feel. his arms tighten around you and you know he means it. his heart beats against your back, as nervous as it is confident. he’s sure about his statement but a part of him is still scared that you won’t have him. that you’ll leave him. 

“she talked about the milk, that’s all she did, sweetheart.” gently, he sways your bodies side to side, letting the warmth of his body engulf you as he ropes you back to him.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“do you believe me?”

it’s something you’ve been practicing in order to get rid of any remaining specks of doubt. it goes both ways; he trusts that you’ll say what’s on your mind and you do the same. 

honesty. 

raw and real.

“yes.”

toji lets out a little puff of air through his nostrils, a wave of relief settling into his body. he knows it’s not over just yet, but it’s a start.

“can i kiss you?”

toji’s mossy green eyes meet yours for the first time in what feels like forever and all he can think about is how much you mean to him. his darling, his baby. he’s not one to be a sap, but hell, when it comes to you, he’s more than willing to drop to his knees and recite love poems for you if that’s what you’d like. anything and everything. 

he watches your eyes flick down to his mouth and then back up again and the little nod you give him is more than enough for him to finally press his lips to yours in a needy, hungry kiss. you melt into each other – skin against skin, tongue against tongue, it just feels right. the spark between you is still there, burning brighter than ever after all the time you’ve spent together. over hills and mountains, through lakes and rivers – nothing is too much or too little for the two of you to conquer together. he’ll be there for you and you’ll be there for him. 

“‘m all yours, sweetheart.”

his hushed words slip right between your lips and slither their way down your throat. inside, they bloom and they flourish. they overtake the rotting weeds that were growing there before and you feel it. you feel it happen. he breathes into you and you become alive again.

"i love you."

[yanderenightmare]

part one

TW: nsfw, dubcon, blackmail

fem reader

As promised, you receive the pictures in the mail while the payment is forwarded almost emmidiatly. You don’t know which makes you gawk more, the photos of you or the numbers.

You also get an email—an invitation. The photographer is asking you to dinner. Or, asking is putting it nicely—which he most certainly didn’t. It’s phrased like a notice from your boss—matter-of-factly, he’s picking you up at eight, wear something nice.

You think about declining, but then you think about your friend again and how you don’t want to cause her any trouble. A free dinner isn’t really all that bad, is it?

It’s worse, actually.

“You should have told me you didn’t have anything to wear. I would have lent you something,” is the first thing he says when you get in his car. He hadn’t opened the door for you or anything, just sat in the driver’s seat waiting.

And though your cheeks burn with embarrassment, you think you’re foolish for it. You hadn't really dressed to impress him, after all—something you might as well tell him, “Maybe I just didn’t feel like dressing up. You didn’t exactly leave a good impression last time we met, so I don’t believe I owe you anything.”

He scoffs with a grin—face turned towards the road as he starts driving. “You have a lot more bite without your friend.”

“She has too much respect for you.” You cross your arms and look out the window. 

“That’s for sure.” You hear him chuckle, but he doesn’t offer any more of a response. You’re glad to spend the rest of the drive in silence.

You feel underdressed at the restaurant. You hadn’t thought he’d take you somewhere so nice. Most of the other couples there are dressed as if for a gala, while you’re dressed as if you’re going to an office party.

He hasn’t tried too hard himself. But still, he fits in—fat watch on his wrist, kempt hair, neat shoes, dress trousers, and a silk shirt with one too many buttons undone—a nauseating skinny chain beneath the collar as well as the hint of a chest tattoo. You bet it’s one of those dumb tribal inks, probably with some mundane Japanese characters he doesn’t know the meaning of.

“Is this where you undermine all the models desperate for your recognition?” you sigh as you sit down.

“We haven't even gotten our menus, and you’re already causing a scene?” 

He’s the one who was rude the moment you got in the car. In fact, he was rude the minute you met him. “Might as well speed this along.”

He chuckles—his smile genuinely amused instead of angered the way you’d imagined—the way you’d remembered from last time when he sent girls crying. “You know, for a face like that, you have one hell of a tongue.”

He orders wine by the name with ease and swiftness before returning to what he was saying.

“I like that. Most models are dull, but not you.”

“I don’t agree. And I’m a model,” you snip, showing no interest in his flirting.

 “No? Didn’t you see the pictures?” Your attitude doesn’t seem to deter him—rather, it only seems to egg him further on. “I have them all mounted on my walls at home—you should come see.”

This makes you falter. Looking at him from across the table with rounded eyes. “On your walls?”

“Framed.” He smiles, finally having broken through—he only intends to take it further. Not that what he was saying wasn’t true. “I just couldn’t help myself. I consider it my best work.” 

The look on your face is something between disgusted and uncertain—speechless in a sense.

It makes him laugh again. “Does anything flatter you?”

The wine comes. He’s poured a glass for testing.

“Not when spoken by men like you.”

His grin grows as he swirls the liquid around, smelling it like a phony.

“That’s a shame,” he says before taking a sip. He nods to the waiter, and you’re poured a similar glass. Meanwhile, he looks at you. “I’d like to flatter you—I’d like to spoil you even. You seem like you deserve it.”

You sip your glass. “No need.”

“I’m not so sure about that. You currently work at a diner, right?”

You gaze at him from atop your glass, brows furrowing. “How do you—”

“I didn’t.” It’s a lie, of course, he’d searched you up and gone over every little detail he could find. “It’s clear from the looks of you—”

“Fuck you,” you snap, putting your glass down a bit too harshly, enough to make a little wine slip and spill.

He doesn’t mind it. “Oh, I want you to,” he says instead. “After I pay for dinner and drive you back. We can fuck right under my favorite portrait of you.”

You’re stunted by his crude words, but only for a second. “How about we skip dinner, and you go fuck yourself.” 

His smile doesn’t drop, even as you get up to leave. “Settle down, sweetheart.”

“Make me, jackass.” 

You’re on your way to go, but his next words have you halting. 

“Either you humor me, or I make sure your friend never models in the country again.”

You turn around to look at him. You don’t really know why you’re so surprised. The card he just pulled is the very reason you agreed to the dinner in the first place. But an incentive is very different from outright blackmail, and suppose you just hadn’t really believed he’d take it that far.

“It’s my impression you don’t want that,” he continues.

You sit back down. He tops your glass off.

“I could make her big, you know?” he offers while pouring for himself as well. “Really speed her career along—set her up for life. I’ll do the same for you, too, of course.” 

He swirls his wine, lifting it as if to make a toast.

“And all you gotta do is come back home with me.”

You don’t have the words.

“You won’t be disappointed,” he promises. “I’m good at it.” As if that’s your concern. “You’ll never want to fuck anyone else again.”

You hate how right he is. 

You’ve never cum sooner or harder before in your life, not with anyone else or on your own. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced—so good, you’re screaming—moaning out in echoes throughout his giant penthouse, bouncing off the marble floors into all unlocked rooms, creating a cacophony of your undeniable pleasure.

He’s on his knees beneath you as you lean with your back against the window overlooking the city, barely able to stand as he buries his face between your soft thighs, canting his chin up while lapping hard at your slit and clit. His hard stare set on your face and the way you throw your head back while cumming in his mouth—your hand tussled in his hair, yanking on it hard enough to make him growl.

Your legs and feet give you little support. It's his hands that keep you up as you slide further and further down the floor-to-ceiling window until you’re almost about ready to drop your weight completely.

But he’s made you come undone three times by then, and just can’t wait any longer. 

He’s spun you around before you know it, making you face the pretty lights of the city skyline—his mouth hot on the shell of your ear, “I told you so, didn’t I?”

Your breath fogs the glass with your panting—knees wobbly, only standing thanks to the thick arms he’s got supporting you, each with a tit in their hand, giving them rough squeezes as he starts pounding away at your womb—hard enough to make the city lights blend in with the stars. 

“You won’t wanna fuck anyone else again.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shigaraki, Dabi, Aizawa, Shinso, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Kageyama, Iwaizumi, Sakusa ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin ♡ AOT – Levi ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[kykyonthemoon]

How to babysit a wounded little Hunter

Injured after a mission, you now indulge yourself in his special tender loving care.

ಇ. Character x Female Reader fanfic,

including Caleb, Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne

ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, early stage of established relationship

A little heads up: The writer will not take responsibility for any side effect (such as toothache) that might come after reading the fic.

ಇ. Word count: 4k

ಇ. Requested by Wytchie Pie and x

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic ♡

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

You dimly sensed footsteps in the bedroom, and then one side of the bed sank. The acquainted scent and warmth embraced you. A cool hand rested on your forehead. In an instant, the heat in your body subsided.

So as soon as that hand was gone, you seized it.

"Don't go…"

You mumbled in a daze. There was a quiet laugh close to your ear, and then that palm brushed against your forehead again.

"If you don't let go, how can I take your temperature then, pipsqueak?"

You recognized that voice. It was Caleb's. So you acted even more aggressively. You yanked his hand tighter, so much so that his entire body appeared to collapse into the bed, just a little above yours.

"Huh? Aren't you a little too strong for someone who is sick?" Caleb laughed again. The sort of laughter that made you feel considerably better.

"I'm not sick." You were persistent, still. "Just feeling a little sleepy."

Caleb's hand tried to pull away from you. But perhaps he kept it that way on purpose, since given your current state, he would have no problem withdrawing if he truly wanted you to let go.

Caleb's hand patted you a little tenderly. He managed to grab the thermometer with his free hand. He took your temperature, then exclaimed: 

"Almost forty Celsius!"

You exhaled heavily, almost a moan. Every part of you felt irritated and heated. Despite this, you dismissed it, saying:

"I'm not... sick..."

Caleb used the chance to release his wrist from you. You opened your eyes slightly and gave him a disappointed expression.

"You have such a high fever, yet still saying you're not sick?" Caleb mumbled, but you caught every word. He handed you medicine, but you did not take it.

"Too bitter." You said.

"Quit whining. "Just take it and go to sleep."

"If I take it… you'll have to stay here with me, okay?"

Caleb sighed. "Only until you sleep, pipsqueak."

You smiled faintly and fast to accept the pills from Caleb's hand. You clutched his hand securely as you drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the Wanderers, the escapes, and the secrets in which you were a part of. Then, when you woke up again, you noticed Caleb seated beside the bed.

“You're awake now, pipsqueak?” He smiled at you. He was rather relieved. He put a hand on your forehead again. “Yup. No more fever."

Caleb's presence seemed to chase the nightmares away. You removed his hand from your forehead and held it tightly.

“How long have I been sleeping?”

"Let's see…" Caleb brushed his chin. "When you arrived home last night, you went to bed right away. You got a high temperature around early morning. From the time you took the medicine and fell asleep until now, I've finished a whole movie, cooked a delicious pot of porridge, and measured your temperature three times."

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

Caleb laughed. He squeezed your hand once. "You've just been asleep for a few hours. But it is past noon now. Are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure?" Caleb asked again. "I made a super delicious pork rib porridge for you though."

You opened your eyes wide and looked at him. Pork rib porridge was a dish he would often cook when you were sick and no longer in a mood to eat anything. That dish always helped you feel better, even just hearing about it was enough to make you crave food again.

"Pork rib porridge…"

You could only whisper that much when Caleb pressed the tip of your nose and said:

“I knew right away that you couldn't resist food.”

A minute later, the room was filled with the aroma of a still-hot bowl of porridge. Caleb put it on a little tray over the bed. You lay back against the cushion, staring at the meal in front of you as if it were a rare delicacy, despite the fact that the ingredients were absolutely basic.

You looked over at Caleb. He was observing you. "What's wrong? Still no appetite?"

“It's too hot…” You pouted. “Besides,… both my arms and body are aching…”

It took a quite difficult mission in extreme weather, and a high fever to receive special care at your bedside. How could you not enjoy it?

Caleb read you right away. He said: “What? The Hunter in Linkon wants me to feed her? Weren't you delirious this morning, saying you had to go fight off Wanderers?”

“When did I say that? But it's okay if you don't help me. I don't want to eat anymore.”

“Are you still a three-year-old then?”

Even though he grumbled, Caleb still smiled very gently. He scooped a spoonful of porridge, blew on it to cool down, then held it out to you.

You opened your mouth really wide, making him chuckle. When he saw that you were eating well, Caleb felt relieved. He teased:

"I thought you're a grown-up now and wouldn't need me to take care of you anymore."

You replied, still with a mouthful of pork rib porridge: "When you lose your cooking skills, I won't really need you anymore then."

Caleb laughed aloud. He patted your head and said: "I didn’t expect my vacation to turn into a part-time job for babysitting. If I catch a fever from you, you must take care of me in return.”

You rose up in a sudden and pressed your still-hot face into the crook of Caleb's neck, nearly dropping the porridge spoon.

“Then I’ll cook pork rib porridge for you. Just heads-up though, even if it tastes yucky, you must eat it all!”

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

The door to the hospital room opened. Rafayel's curly purple hair appeared. And immediately, your phone lit up with a text message from Thomas:

[The little devil is coming for you. Sorry, I did my best.]

You exhaled. Clearly, he had not done his best. That was why Rafayel was here, staring at you with such a deep gaze from the entrance.

"Er… "Hello, Rafayel..." You waved your arm, attempting to greet him with a warm smile.

"Rafayel?" He frowned. "Do you still remember that we know each other?"

"Huh? Why did you...?" You left your sentence incomplete as Rafayel surged inside. He placed his hands on his hips, his expression filled with slanderous words as he accused you.

"Who are you? Do I know you? It's been eight hundred years. Jellyfishes are walkin' naked. Sea turtles climb trees. Sharks are eatin' grass for free! And finally, you remembered me?"

You frowned. Why was there something that rang so familiar with this scenario? Yet it was still off.

“Rafayel, I—”

“When are you going to tell me you're hurt?”

Rafayel pointed a finger directly to your shoulder, where the white bandage was visible through the hospital gown. That was the real reason he was precisely distressed.

“Even Thomas knew you were injured. Yet you didn't say a word to me?! You left me waiting alone for three hours at the exhibition. I can't believe you stood me up!”

You lifted your hand, intending to remind Rafayel to keep his voice down because you were both in the hospital. But he gave you no opportunity to speak.

"Do you realize how scared I was? When Thomas told me you couldn't come, I thought about all the things that could happen to you!”

"Rafayel…" You finally found a chance to interrupt him.  “Let's calm down first. I didn't mean to hide it from you, it's just... I haven't told you yet..."

Rafayel crossed his arms. He was still irritated.

“I can't believe it! You deliberately manipulated me with your innocence so that I would let you get away this time!”

You felt dizzy in the head, and your ears were ringing with Rafayel's nagging words and accusations. The injured one was you. Why did you feel as if you had just committed a great sin?

"ARGHHH!" You shouted and clutched your bandaged shoulder. "It hurts!"

Rafayel quickly forgot the rage in his heart. He moved right away to the bed and gently raised your arm. His eyes were full of concern and anxiety.

“Are you hurt? I'll call the doctor here right away!”

You grasped Rafayel's hand, urging him to stay with you.

“See? I'm still very strong. Just a little hurt."

"How much is a little?" Rafayel frowned. You could feel his hot glare on your shoulder, soaking into the bandage and searing your wound.

"… This much." You clasped your thumb and index finger to form a circle, then held it up for Rafayel to see. He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest.

"I don't believe you anymore." He continued to speak with a condescending tone. "I have to check it out with my own eyes."

"Huh? What do you mean?…” You suddenly blushed. Rafayel looked at you with serious eyes, yet very sincere. He replied:

“Your wound. I want to see it."

The mere notion of Rafayel wanting to look behind your garments made your cheeks flame. You withdrew your hand and refused:

“I told you I'm fine… Don't make such a scene…”

“If I don't see it, how can I be sure you're not lying to me? This isn't the first time you've hidden your injuries..."

That was all Rafayel said. You gazed at him for a second. Aside from being concerned about you, he was also saddened since you had repeatedly hidden your wounds from him. A great deal when you did not want to bother him, he always found out and became much more frustrated.

"Alright then…"

Eventually, you had to give in. You turned your back to Rafayel and carefully slipped the shirt collar down your shoulder, displaying the neatly wrapped bandages around your torso.

You could see your reflection in the front window. Your face turned crimson. And Rafayel stood next to the bed, attentively investigating you, his fingers softly caressing the gauze, causing you to bow slightly in pain as well as anxiousness.

“Yet you said it was just a little wound.” Rafayel muttered. It was his hand that drew your collar back up. And the next thing you knew, you were upgraded to the best room at the hospital.

You weren't used to how wealthy people spent their money. You looked at Rafayel, who had constantly been by your side during your hospital stay. He requested you to remain in the most advanced hospital room, with the greatest level of care. More than that, he refused to leave your side even when you asked to be alone.

"You don't have to do this, Rafayel." You spoke as he was peeling the fruit for you.

"Open your mouth." He handed you a slice of mango. Even if your lips stated it wasn't required, you nevertheless welcomed all of his attention.

"I'm serious…" As soon as you finished swallowing the mango, he gave you another slice. "Really, um... This mango is truly delicious..."

"Do you crave anything else?" Rafayel purposely ignored every time you told him he didn't need to stay there all day and night to care for you. Your wound had improved significantly.

“I think I can be discharged from hospital and get back to work now…” You said. “I don't want to bother you anymore…”

"What's that?" Rafayel pretended not to hear you. “I think I heard the sound of abalone porridge just being delivered to the hospital. Let me go grab it.”

You sighed. Another expensive meal he had prepared for you. But you knew how much you would miss these things when you left the hospital at last and could no longer benefit from his tender loving care.

“Maybe I'll stay here one more day... You're spoiling me too much...” You muttered beneath your breath, but Rafayel overheard everything. He pinched your cheek and responded:

“You're staying because of the delicious food, not because of my devoted service? This is so heartbreaking! Then, after you've recovered, I'll make you repay everything. You have to work overtime as my bodyguard too!"

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

You crept along the hospital's vacant rear door. You were just hospitalized in the afternoon due to an injury suffered while on job. Even though the doctor advised you to stay for additional examination, you believed the damage was minor. On top of that, the mission was not yet over. You needed to get back to headquarters.

Unfortunately, your escape did not go well. You ran into a familiar shoulder before you could complete the corridor.

"X-Xavier?" You became pale, but not because of the pain. It was only that you were astonished and a little ashamed when caught red-handed.

His look was incredibly complicated, ranging from apprehensive to serious and somewhat furious.

"Where are you going?" he inquired.

You didn't dare to reveal the truth, so you invented an excuse: "Ah... well... The hospital room is quite boring, so I decided to go for a stroll."

"From the back door?"

"Er… I heard the nurse say this is a quicker shortcut to the garden..."

Xavier gazed at you for some time. You clutched your hand tight, terrified that he would not believe that ridiculous excuse. Yet, Xavier nodded at you: "Then let's go together."

Before you could respond, Xavier grabbed your hand and led you outside. It was night time, the wind blew, sending you a slight chill. Xavier took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. That incredibly gentle gesture made you feel more guilty than ever for lying to him.

“Lead the way.” He told you shortly. For some reason, you had the impression that he was in extreme anger over you.

During the stroll, you didn't dare to speak, and Xavier did the same. He strolled close to you, as if keeping watch rather than walking together. You wandered about for a long time, but there was no trace of the hospital's garden anywhere. Xavier continued to follow your every step in such silence. Him being like that evoked even more guilt in your heart.

At last, you couldn't take it any longer and had to confess: "Xavier... Actually... The truth is, I don't know where the garden is..."

At that point, he spoke up and asked: "So why did you leave your hospital room?"

You didn't dare look into his eyes, so you just stammered an explanation: "Ah... My injury is nothing to be concerned about... That's why I... planned to return to headquarters..."

You noticed Xavier's hands clenching into fists. Fearing he'd be upset, you added: "The doctor also said my injury wasn't too serious— Ah!"

Xavier abruptly pulled your wrist, causing the wound on your arm to hurt. He read through your face which was miserable but still faking a smile. His voice turned sharp:

“If I hadn't caught you, would you really have sneaked away from the hospital?”

Your body convulsed in pain, but you were more concerned about Xavier's rage. You said, "I'm sorry... I was wrong... I'll return to the hospital room right now..."

"Good." Xavier responded curtly. Then he quickly leaned down and held you up in the attitude of a princess being carried.

"W-What are you doing, Xavier?"

"Let's take you back to the hospital room." His expression remained frigid, making you both terrified and embarrassed to be carried by him in such a manner.

Xavier did not return to the same path you had taken. Instead, he took you into the front entrance, where many people, including patients and hospital staff, could see you.

"Xavier? You... put me down! "They are looking at us!"

"I want them to see, so they know you intend to escape the hospital and will monitor you more closely."

Your cheeks became scarlet with humiliation. You swore you saw a kid pointing at you and chuckling, "Mom! I want to be carried like that princess, too!"

And you swore you saw Xavier smirking at that.

After an embarrassing journey, you finally arrived at your room. Xavier set you down on the bed. He chose to remain silent with you as punishment for your unsuccessful escape. You saw him sitting in the corner of the room, peeling a red apple for you.

“Xavier?”

You called out, but he didn't look at you and just replied curtly:

“Rest.”

“Are you angry with me?…”

Xavier's silence revealed the answer. You groaned and pulled the warm cover up high, as if to conceal yourself away from Xavier's rage, but he remained as quiet as a cloudless sky.

When he finished with the apple, he brought it over and gave you a slice. "Eat."

You did not enjoy this cold and distant demeanor of Xavier. If he was upset with you, he should have expressed it directly. You knew it was your fault, and he was so concerned about you that he got mad when you lied to him like that.

"Xavier, I'm sorry…" Your hands seized Xavier's wrist, which was clutching the apple slice. Your eyes widened as much as possible, even giving the impression that you were going to cry.

In the end, the ploy worked. His gaze had softened completely. He placed the plate of apples on the bed and used his other hand to elevate your chin a little. He said: "If you know your fault, then obediently eat all of these and rest."

His hand softly separated your lips, and his other hand inserted a slice of apple for you to eat. You were back in the sunshine, coaxing him to sit on the bed next to you.

"I'll give you three days to recover." Xavier spoke, his voice still agitated, but you could feel his boundless care and love.

"Then I shall bother you to watch over me for a few more days!"

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

You had just returned to your private cabin at the icy mountain base when you heard a tap at the door. You answered the door, wondering who was seeking for you at this hour, and there was Doctor Zayne, holding a first-aid kit while standing outside.

“Zayne?” Your eyes caught the blood on his face and neck. Snow adhered to his dark hair. You took a step back and allowed him inside. "Why are you here?"

Your team had accepted the mission of rescuing people caught in an avalanche created by a group of Wanderers on the mountain. You had learnt that a team of physicians from Akso Hospital was also on their way. But you did not expect to see Zayne here.

Zayne set the first aid pack on the table and then turned to you. He went on to say: "I'm here to do my duty as a doctor."

You widened your eyes and inquired him again, "Your duty as a doctor?"

Zayne pointed to your abdomen, which was soaked from your own blood oozing through the gauze you had recklessly covered earlier.

"Oh dear…" You cried out. You were so engaged in battles that you didn't have time to look at your wound. Your head began spinning as a result of excessive blood loss.

Zayne's powerful arms directed and assisted you to the table. He put you to the wooden table and took a chair to sit in front of you.

"Doctor Zayne, what are you going to do?"

You noted this when you found his hand on the hem of your shirt. He seemed to want to lift it up.

"Treating you."

You knew that. But you were still extremely nervous when thinking that he was about to lift up your shirt. So your hand was still securely grasping his, preventing him from moving any further.

“I've already bandaged it. A nurse also helped me stitch up the wound earlier..."

During the turmoil, you recalled being stabbed in the abdomen. A nurse assisted you in stitching it up, but because there were so many others with more serious injuries, you let her tend to them while you put bandages over yourself and returned to the battlefield. Perhaps your clumsiness caused the wound to bleed a great deal more.

Zayne used his other hand to remove yours before pulling your shirt up. The gauze surrounding your abdomen was drenched in blood. He slowly withdrew it as you writhed in pain and embarrassment.

"Try to sit still for a bit, will you?"

Zayne's soothing voice burst out, calming you down a lot. You sat on the table, your hands lifting your body up while you looked down at the doctor who was treating your wound. The fact that you had to display your skin beneath his gaze made you uneasy and desire to cover your face. But Zayne was quite professional. He remained silent and entirely concentrated on his work. He cleansed the wound and applied a new layer of gauze. His warm breath occasionally wafted against your skin, causing you to tremble slightly. Even when his frigid fingers touched you, it seemed like you were being scorched.

"It's done."

Zayne said after fixing the new layer of gauze. You were a little discontent when his fingers left you. You were ready to pull your top back down when Zayne lightly rubbed his fingers against your abdomen.

“Ouch!” Even though the place he touched was not wounded, you were still startled and embarrassed.

“Just checking it again.” Zayne elaborated. He had you sitting on the table, your bandaged abdomen at his eye level. You could feel his stare through the gauze, pausing a bit too long in areas that were not covered by anything.

“Doctor Zayne… Are you done now?”

You attempted to keep your speech cool, but your crimson cheeks could have given you away. Zayne appeared to flash a little smile. You felt the icy sensation of his fingertip on your skin again as he slid it beneath the hem of your shirt, then pulled it back down.

"I am now." He answered while returning the supplies to the first aid kit. "Don't be so reckless next time. You have to care for yourself first before you can save others.”

"Hold on." You stopped him. You altered your position and stared into his eyes. "You always say so, but can you actually do what you say?"

Zayne tilted his head to look at you. You took advantage of the moment and raised his chin to have a better look. He had a minor cut on his forehead, and the blood on his body was most likely someone else's.

"You rushed here to take care of me, while you, yourself, are in this condition."

You spoke. His hand found your wrist.

"I barely got a few scrapes. Not as concerning as someone who rushed into the battlefield with a bleeding stomach."

"Whether the wound is big or small, it can be critical." You stated precisely what Dr. Zayne told you whenever he saw you injured, even if it was only a little cut.

Realizing that he had just tasted his own medicine, Zayne let out a small laugh. Then he tugged your hand, causing you to almost lean towards him. He gazed into your eyes for quite a while.

"So, my doctor, will you treat me?"

You blushed again. Zayne relinquished his hand, allowing you to properly wipe the blood off his face. You had to confess that you were a little awkward, owing to your unexpected closeness to Zayne in such a private and calm setting. He probably could hear your heart racing. He supported your hand which was holding a sterilized cotton pad and said:

"If you want to become a skilled doctor, in situations like this you must be even calmer."

"I'm not as professional as Dr. Zayne." You answered with a little caustic tone. "You were able to treat my wound so calmly just now."

Zayne gazed at you for an instant. His face remained calm, but his eyes were not.

"I'm a skilled doctor. Yet, it doesn’t imply that I wouldn't feel anything while treating the girl I like in such a... condition."

[adelheidvonschicksal]

hii id like to request a how l&d boys act when they're jealous :3 feel free to ignore if u don't feel like it or thanks in advance if u do!! love your works sm xx

How the Boys Act When They’re Jealous

Pairing: xavier x gn!reader, rafayel x gn!reader, zayne x gn!reader

A/N: The game needs more jealous Zayne, and Lost in your eyes moments with Raf. Thanks for waiting! <3

Xavier is an absolute menace.

He’s extremely possessive over you, and he’s well aware of it.

You care a lot about him, but good luck stopping him from being a jealous dummy any time soon. He already knows Jeremiah doesn’t have feelings for you, but is that going to stop him from spraying the other man with a plant mister when he gets to close? Nope.

Luckily for Jeremiah, Xavier likes him. They’re friends. The other man finds it funny to even tease him a little by poking at that jealous side. Everyone else doesn’t have the same privilege.

When he's not glaring, Xavier tries to be subtle about, dropping hints here and there about how you’re his lover. He’ll interrupt your conversations with other men when they drag on too long, so he can talk with his partner, his neighbor, his napping buddy.

Suddenly, everything he says can be taken the wrong way. He mentions how he had a good time sleeping together (when it was literal sleeping). He says the two of you should got out to dinner again or that the lunch you made him for work was very tasty (really you wanted to avoid the apartment complex catching on fire). He might also “jokingly” state within hearing distance of your new friend that the two of you act like a married couple. It’s not his fault if someone takes it the wrong way; you don’t have to look so embarrassed about it.

Xavier likes to flaunt his status a little; he fixes your hair and dusts off your clothes. He would do this for you even if he wasn’t jealous, but it’s a bonus that it gets others to back off and gets your attention on him with your cute little pout.

Worse comes to worst, he isn’t afraid of using underhanded methods to fail any attempt at someone else trying to steal you away from him; even if that means knocking out the streetlights with his Evol to get your coworker to go home early (who even takes 20 minutes to say goodbye anyway? Someone with ill intentions, that’s who.).

He’ll deny it. Deny. Deny. Deny. He’s not jealous. He just wants to know more about your friend. How long have you known each other? Do you go out at night together? Why not invite him sometimes? It takes a few pokes to get him to admit it.

Jealous Xavier can be a moody Xavier; he’s usually calm and easygoing, patient with most of the world except with those who try to flirt with you, and you, if you should flirt back. Though, he has no problem reminding you why he is the only one you should have eyes for whether it be through words, action, or…other methods best left after dark.

It’s obvious when Rafayel is jealous.

It starts as jokes, usually, with a light dust of jealousy like sprinkles on a donut.

“What’s your new friend like? Are they more fun than me,” he asks, trying to coax you into admitting how much more you like him, a little to assuage his jealousy and a little to stroke his own ego.

He’s confident in being your partner and having a bond that has lasted millenniums. So, when a random likes you, it’s usually not a huge deal. He can confidently deal with it, wrapping an arm around your waist or shoulder and putting on his charm as he calls you honey with a lift to his voice, as if he didn’t notice the person who was trying to flirt with you.

His jealousy can even be funny sometimes even cute. He’ll get this pouty look on his face whenever you place your attention on animals, cooing and petting them. He even gets jealous of your dear child, Reddie, from time to time. You love that clumsy fish so much. It couldn’t even stop itself from being caught by humans. Why would you want to play with Reddie so much when you already got a fish you can pet. Please pet him.

 When his jealousy gets really bad though, he can be snippy. He’s vindictive, asking if you forgot about him and if you wouldn’t rather hang out with your other boyfriend. His jokes become a little less funny and a little meaner, and he’ll be quick to demand an explanation in a voice a little tighter and bitter than you’re used to from him.

If you get mad and try to leave, he’s pulling you back. He doesn’t actually want you to go but he’s too stubborn to admit that maybe he’s being jealous over nothing.

He just doesn’t want you to forget him again.

On the other hand, seeing you jealous? He eats it up. 

Zayne doesn’t like his jealousy.

He tries to play it cool and be mature about these things. He’d never interrupt you talking to another person, but he most definitely watches the situation out the corner of his eye. He wants to digest every word and every bit of body language he can about the situation, going as far as pretending to work to have an excuse to stay and listen in.

Zayne wants to be rational about things, but he’s never been completely rational when it comes to you. You have a bad way of making him act out of character (or passionately as you call it).

This emotion always sneaks up on him unexpectedly and makes him clumsier than normal. He’ll give himself away easily, asking about your plans with the other person or if you noticed the lovesick puppy look they gave you when you looked their way. It makes him blush when you mention that you adore his puppy eyes more. If he says he doesn’t do that, well, you’ll simply have to call Dr. Greyson and Yvonne to back you up.

Zayne can be very picky about other people trying to take your time, like not wanting someone else to dance with you or take you out to a new tourist location; he always promises his free time to you, the little he has of it, so he requests that you wait for him. He’ll accompany you wherever you want to go.

Zayne is very jealous of others who can make you laugh. He really likes how easygoing, talkative, and animated you are so he gets insecure when someone else can make you act that way better than he can; however, he feels selfish because you’re happy and that should be enough.

In the end, he blames himself for his own jealousy, questioning if he read too much into the situation or in your relationship. He’s the quickest to apologize for his jealousy if you pick up on it.

When Zayne thinks you are pursuing someone else, he becomes blunter. He suddenly has a lot more relationship advice about being careful who you keep in your company and warning you to make sure there’s no doubt when deciding on something important like your partner. He also tends to cut conversations about any other potential partner you might like short and unintentionally be rude to your love interest.

That’s not to say he won’t try to win you over; when push comes to shove and the risk of losing you becomes too great, he isn’t afraid to finally tell you how he feels in the best way he can. All he can do is try. 

If you don’t like him back, he will allow jealousy to silently have him, choosing to suffer in it, as long as you’re happy with whoever you choose.

However, that does not mean he has to like your partner as well. And if they ever hurt you, he rather not think of what he’d do if that should happen.

[kyksbb]

Fifteen Minute Challenge

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Summary: Your morning takes a surprising turn when Jude refuses to let you leave for work without proving he’s impossible to resist, leaving you breathless — and very late.

Warning: Smut! (Minors DNI)

Word Count: 3.2K

Masterlist

Author’s note: Here you go, another little fic for Jude. I wasn’t planning on writing smut just yet but the inspiration flowed lol so I had to. Let me know what you think everyone 🥰❤️

——————————————————————————

There were many things you hated, but the sound of the alarm clock had to be one of the worst. The relentless beeping tore through the peaceful silence, reminding you that it was time to leave the warmth and comfort of your bed. You groaned softly, reaching for your phone to silence the noise, yawning like your jaw might come unhinged in the process.

Jude’s arm was draped lazily over your waist, his face nuzzled comfortably into the crook of your neck. You glanced over at him and felt a pang of jealousy. Unlike you, he didn’t have to get up early today, and from the looks of it, he was having the best sleep of his life. His breathing was slow and steady, his lips slightly parted, completely at peace.

As you rubbed your eyes, already accepting the misery of having to drag yourself out of bed at 7 AM, you carefully tried to lift Jude’s arm to slip out without disturbing him. But he wasn’t having it. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer, and his face burrowed even deeper into your neck, a sleepy whine escaping his throat.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sound. Apparently, you weren’t the only one who didn’t want you to leave.

Giving it another try, you gently moved again, hoping he had just pulled you closer in his sleep. But when you attempted to free yourself a second time, Jude let out another whine, this time shifting half of his body onto yours, effectively pinning you to the bed.

“Stop moving so much,” he muttered, his voice thick with sleep.

“Jude, I need to get up,” you whispered, trying to wiggle out from under him. You couldn’t deny how tempting it was to stay wrapped in his warmth for a few more hours, but unfortunately, work wasn’t going to wait for you.

“Stay,” he mumbled, like it was the most logical thing in the world, his tone casual, as if staying in bed with him was the only real option.

“I’d love to, but I really have to go,” you replied, your fingers gently caressing his face, slipping through his messy curls.

His response wasn’t verbal this time. Instead, his lips found the curve of your neck, planting soft, lazy kisses along your skin. His breath was warm, sending shivers down your spine as he trailed kisses from your shoulder to the sensitive spot beneath your ear — the place he knew always drove you crazy.

A quiet whimper escaped your lips, a testament to how much you loved the feel of his mouth on your skin. But it was making it infinitely harder to pry yourself from his arms and face the reality of leaving the bed.

“Jude,” you breathed out, his name falling from your lips in a mixture of plea and surrender. But whether you were asking him to stop or urging him to keep going, you weren’t entirely sure.

He shifted above you, pulling your body beneath his, his lips never leaving your skin. Now hovering over you, he let his mouth roam from your neck to your collarbone, each kiss sending sparks of warmth through you.

“I had a dream about you,” he murmured against your skin, his lips moving up to trace your jawline with his tongue. “I couldn’t wait to wake up and make that dream come true.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers slipped under the hem of the shirt you were wearing, his shirt, lifting it slowly as he leaned back to gaze down at you, his dark eyes heavy with intent.

“Jude, I’m gonna be late,” you protested, though your voice lacked any real conviction. You should have stopped him, but the truth was you didn’t want to. Not even a little. When he slipped your shirt off and tossed it carelessly across the room, the last thing on your mind was work.

“All I need is 15 minutes,” he promised, his voice low and thick with intent. His left hand found your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingertips, sending jolts of pleasure through you. “By that time, you’ll have come twice.”

A shiver ran down your spine, both from his words and the way he was already working your body. But you knew Jude. “Fifteen minutes?” you half-laughed, half-moaned. “That’s not nearly enough for you.”

It was true. Jude wasn’t one for rushing. He liked to take his time, savoring every second. He loved having you ready for him, loved making you drip with anticipation. Quickies weren’t his style, he preferred long sessions where he could thoroughly take care of your needs. He was the kind of lover who’d make you forget about time altogether. But today, he seemed determined.

“Set the timer,” he murmured, pulling his hand away from your breast and pausing the trail of kisses he’d been laying across your skin. “I’ll make sure you’re not late. And that you leave in a very good mood.”

You blinked up at him, unsure whether he was serious or just teasing you. The cocky grin on his face made it hard to tell. But when he didn’t follow it up with a laugh, you realized he wasn’t joking. He reached over, grabbed your phone from the nightstand, and handed it to you with a raised brow.

You hesitated, but the temptation was too strong. Sighing in defeat, you set the timer for 15 minutes and placed your phone back on the bedside table. Before you could second-guess yourself, Jude’s lips were on yours, his kiss deep and demanding, and his tongue sliding into your mouth with ease.

His kisses always had a way of making you feel like you were simultaneously falling apart and being put back together. There was a comfort in the familiarity of his lips, but every kiss from him was filled with an intensity that always caught you off guard. It was like he knew exactly how to make your body come alive, how to ignite that fire inside you with just a touch.

You cupped his face with both hands, your fingers threading through his hair as you tried to keep up with him, battling his tongue for dominance. But Jude was never one to let you win. His tongue expertly claimed your mouth, leaving you breathless, overwhelmed by the force of his kiss.

His hand slid down your body, fingers tracing your skin lightly until they reached your core. He pressed his palm against your covered sex, and you moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled by the intensity of his lips on yours.

You tried to pull back, desperate to let the moan escape properly, but Jude only deepened the kiss, devouring you as his fingers worked their magic below.

He tugged your panties to the side, his fingers brushing against your slick folds, teasing you, drawing out more soft moans that he swallowed eagerly.

You were already so wet, your body responding to him without hesitation, like it was trained to react to his touch.

“Is this all for me?” Jude asked, his voice low and rough as his fingers continued to explore your dripping wet folds, teasing you with every stroke. His eyes darkened with desire as he felt just how ready you were for him.

“Always,” you whispered, your breath hot against his skin as you trailed your lips down to his neck, pressing soft kisses that made him shiver.

Without warning, Jude slipped two fingers inside you, and you yelped his name, your body arching up into him. His thumb began circling your clit, teasing it just enough to have you gasping, until finally, he pressed down with just the right amount of pressure.

“Oh, fuck!” you moaned, your voice trembling as his fingers pumped in and out of you, building a rhythm that made your entire body thrum with anticipation. His mouth returned to your neck, sucking on that sensitive spot just under your ear that never failed to make you lose control.

“That feel good?” he whispered against your skin, his breath warm as his fingers picked up their pace. The way he said it, so soft yet so full of heat, sent another wave of pleasure coursing through you.

You couldn’t form a coherent response. Words failed you completely. All you could do was nod, your head falling back as your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the sensation of his fingers curling inside you, finding that perfect spot that made your toes curl and your mind go blank.

Jude chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. He never seemed to get enough of seeing you like this — helpless beneath him, reduced to nothing but breathy moans and yelps of his name.

And his name — it was the only thing you could manage to say. “Jude!” you cried out, your voice barely more than a whimper. Or maybe it was because it was the only thing you could remember when you were this close to unraveling completely. You didn’t mind one bit.

He could feel you tightening around his fingers, your body clenching as his thumb pressed harder on your clit, and his fingers worked you faster, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Jude, I’m gonna come!” you gasped, your body trembling beneath him as the pressure inside you built to an unbearable high.

He groaned into your neck, his fingers never slowing down, relentlessly hitting your G-spot with precision. “Let go for me,” he murmured, his words soft yet commanding.

And that was all it took. The moment the words left his lips, your entire body shattered into a million pieces. Stars burst behind your eyelids as the orgasm tore through you, tingles racing up your spine as your hips bucked against his hand.

Your thighs shook, your whole body going tense as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you. Jude didn’t stop, his fingers moving in and out of you, working you through your high until you were completely spent. Your breath came out in short gasps, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the last tremors of your orgasm faded.

Finally, he slowed, pulling his fingers out of you gently, his touch soft and careful. He leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, his hands sliding up your thighs, squeezing them tenderly as you tried to catch your breath.

Wasting no time, Jude tugged at the waistband of your panties, pulling them down swiftly before stripping off his own underwear in one fluid motion. His cock sprang free, rock hard, veiny, and as delicious as ever.

“Shit—” he mumbled under his breath, forcing your thighs apart with a sense of urgency. “I need you so bad, baby,” he whimpered, giving himself a few rough strokes.

You loved this side of him, the way his usual cocky demeanor would melt away when his need for you became overwhelming. It made you feel electric, knowing that he was just as desperate as you were, that the smugness he wore so well couldn’t hide his raw hunger anymore.

He pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with shallow thrusts that only made you more impatient. Your thighs tightened around his waist, pulling him closer as your hips bucked up toward him, a needy whine escaping your lips. You needed him inside you, now.

But Jude wasn’t going to make it that easy. “Use your words,” he ordered, his voice dropping an octave, full of restrained desire. He wasn’t giving in yet.

“Please, Jude,” you whimpered, knowing there was no time to be coy or bratty. The ache inside you was unbearable. “Fuck me. Please.”

The moment the words left your mouth, Jude pushed into you, slow at first, dragging it out deliberately as he buried himself deep inside you. But the second he heard the loud, desperate moan that tore from your throat, his pace quickened. He couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Shit…” Jude cursed, his face scrunching up in pleasure as he felt your wet heat clenching around him.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried out, the two of you perfectly in sync as your curses overlapped in the heat of the moment. He stretched you so perfectly, filling you up, hitting all the right spots. It helped that you were so wet for him, so turned on that he slid inside with ease, like your body was made for him.

“Y/N, you’re so warm,” he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, the sensation overwhelming him. He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as he breathed heavily, his moans filling the space between your bodies.

You weren’t about to let up. “Fuck me. Please,” you begged, your voice raw and urgent. There was no hesitation, no shyness left in you, just a primal need for more of him. Jude kissed the sweet spot between your neck and shoulder, his lips hot against your skin.

“Please, Jude, just—” you didn’t even need to finish the sentence. Your desperate pleas and the sight of your eyes rolling back were all the encouragement he needed.

He thrust into you harder, his rhythm relentless and perfectly in tune with your body. Jude was lost in you, in the way your pussy gripped him with every stroke, the way you cried out his name like he was the only thing that mattered.

“God, Y/N, you feel heavenly,” he groaned, his voice strained with effort as he picked up the pace. His grip on your hips tightened, his eyes fixated on where your bodies met, watching his cock disappear into your dripping wet cunt. You were so wet, so creamy, your arousal coating his length as he pounded into you, and it drove him wild.

This was everything. Being buried deep inside you, feeling how perfectly you fit around him, how your body responded to his every move — it was the kind of bliss he wanted to savor forever. If he could die feeling this, he would die a happy man.

You wanted to yell, scream, and shout out how incredible it felt, how only Jude could make you feel this way, how this — being with him — was exactly where you would choose to stay for the rest of your life if given the chance. But forming a full sentence? Impossible. Your brain was clouded, every thought consumed by him, and only him.

Jude's deep, breathy grunts were like music to your ears. He knew how much you loved when he was vocal, so he made sure to stay close, his mouth never far from your ear. Every moan, every grunt, became the soundtrack of your ecstasy, filling the room along with the rhythmic sound of the bed's headboard slamming against the wall.

“Feels good, huh?” Jude repeated, his voice low and teasing, but the hint of desperation, his own need, was palpable. He wasn’t immune to how you made him feel either.

Your answer came out in a breathy moan, “Yeah.” It was all you could manage.

“Yeah?” His tone was smug, full of confidence, but the urgency was there too. The way he needed this just as badly as you did.

Jude shifted, grabbing your left leg and throwing it over his shoulder, opening you up and plunging deeper inside you. The new angle was overwhelming; you felt him impossibly deep, almost in your stomach, every thrust more intense than the last.

“Jude.” You cried out his name, and you felt him smile into the crook of your neck, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

“You sound so pretty moaning my name, baby. I fucking love how beautiful you sound.” It wasn’t just a compliment, it was his truth. Possibly the truest thing he’d ever said. Hearing you cry out for him, especially when words failed you and all you could do was scream his name, was his favorite thing in the world.

He was panting hard now, but he didn’t stop. He couldn't.

His thrusts were steady, relentless. His left hand found its way between your bodies, where the two of you became one, while his right hand gripped your leg over his shoulder. His fingers found your clit, teasing it with a slight pinch before massaging it with the perfect amount of pressure.

Between his deep grunts, the sound of his cock plunging in and out of you, his fingers working your clit, and his whispered praises in your ear, it all became too much.

“Fuck, Jude, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, the intense pressure building up inside you, threatening to break you apart. You needed to warn him, though it felt like he already knew.

“Look at me,” he demanded, his hand leaving your thigh to grab your face, holding you firmly so you couldn’t turn away, couldn’t close your eyes.

His grip was possessive, but his gaze — God, his gaze was full of fire. You forced your eyes open, meeting his deep, dark stare.

“That’s it. Keep your eyes on me, baby. Let me see how pretty you look when you cum.”

You couldn’t tear your gaze from his as your mouth dropped open, a loud, primal moan escaping your lips. There was no way someone didn’t hear that, but you didn’t care.

Your entire body trembled violently, the orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave. Jude watched you closely, taking in every shake, every twitch, and the way your body quivered beneath him.

It was glorious.

This was the kind of orgasm every woman deserved to experience. And for him, watching you unravel like this was everything.

Just as your orgasm began to fade, you felt him grunt loudly, his body tensing as he thrust into you three or four more times, emptying himself deep inside you. His release was intense, and it hit him hard, but he never let his gaze leave yours.

After, Jude leaned down, pressing his lips to yours, soft and slow, your breathing still heavy and erratic as you shared the same air. No words were needed. What had just happened between you — mind-blowing, incredible, beyond anything either of you could express in words — said it all.

Jude propped himself down right beside you, still trying to steady his breathing. His chest rose and fell rapidly, mirroring your own, and without a word, he pulled you close, laying you gently on top of him, his fingers tracing soft circles on your back. The warmth of his skin against yours was calming, a perfect contrast to the intensity that had just passed.

Just as you were about to say something, perhaps to tease him or maybe even thank him, the timer you had set earlier went off, cutting through the silence. The reminder that your fifteen minutes were officially up.

You glanced up at him, catching sight of his signature cocky grin spreading across his lips. That beautiful, smug look of his, the one that always made your heart skip a beat, was plastered on his face. He looked so content, basking in the glow of his small victory.

“Now you’re free to go,” he said with a playful smirk, his voice deep and teasing. He didn’t even move, just lay there, hands tucked behind his head as if he hadn’t just completely rocked your world. His chest vibrated with a satisfied sigh, the winner's grin still lingering.

You reached over to turn the timer off, shaking your head with a small laugh, your body still tingling from the aftermath. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, unable to hide your smile as you gently slapped his chest, finally dragging yourself out of bed.

[satoruxx]

THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.

✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x f!reader | 4.5k words

✧ SUMMARY: wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, grumpy x sunshine, animalistic behavior, societal inequality, dysfunctional families, were getting into the pining everyone, fluff, toji letting his guard down, blood as a metaphor for love ??

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: sorry for taking a month to get this part out guys!! unfortunately the semester's started and i'm also spending every free minute i have studying for the mcat rip :(( but know that wolf toji never leaves my mind hehe :33 as usual i would recommend reading the previous parts before this one !!

prev. | series masterlist.

you are slowly getting used to coming home and not seeing toji there.

not that he is overly loud or anything. but after seeing someone lounging on your couch or staring at the tv or awkwardly peeking through your fridge every single day, the lack of that presence seems much more impactful.

it leaves a strangely empty feeling in your gut, but you shake it off because you know he will be back soon.

besides, he had been the one to insist on getting a job.

("you really don't have to—"

"i wanna." he scratches the back of his neck, an awkward grimace on his face as he speaks. "i uh… take up a lotta your space. so just let me, alright?")

far be it from you to deny a literal predator. so yes, the two of you had fallen into a sort of rhythm. while you were at school or your job, toji would go out and work—you're not really sure what it is he does, and you're a little too awkward to ask. he had hinted at picking up small odd jobs here and there, like helping move construction materials or furniture, which was easy thanks to his brute strength.

it also was easier for him to lay low with jobs that didn't involve high profile people.

you never tried to find out more, because oddly enough, you trusted the hulking wolf of a man.

and it was…oddly endearing how'd he'd come back with his paycheck and drop it in your palm, voice a low grunt as he mutters a quick, "here y'go."

in fact, over the few months that toji has been with you, you've started easily picking up many oddly endearing things about him.

like how he sits upright and scowls when the doorbell rings, ears pointed and hackles rising. how he does not eat if you're not eating—even if you give him a plate he will sit in front of it and stare you down, urging you to drop what you're doing to come and sit with him. how he prefers taking a seat near your legs when you're watching tv, back pressing against the bottom of the couch.

(you try mentioning any of these to him and he gives you the most affronted scowl.)

but yes it's all very endearing. even now when you're sitting on your couch and thinking about it, there is a silly smile on your face—when you notice it, you have to slap yourself quickly.

the cool chill of your wet hair leaves a trail of goosebumps over your arms, even though your body is warm from your shower. maybe it's strange to be overanalyzing the all cute little things the wolf hybrid you let in your home does on a daily basis. and perhaps you should be wondering why your brain seems to find him whenever it doesn't have anything else to think about, but you're a little scared of what that might reveal about you.

your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door unlocking, and you look up subconsciously.

your eyes catch toji's figure leaving the bathroom, and for a split second your throat goes dry. he emerges from a cloud of steam, drops of water cascading over the planes of his chest and torso. a towel hangs lows on his hipbones, hair heavy with wetness as he frustratingly shakes the strands away from his eyes. you are unable to look away from the muscles of his back, damp skin reflecting the light in the hallway.

it's just a few seconds—just as he makes his way from the bathroom into his own bedroom, but it's enough to have you sitting there with your lips parted.

you spend the next couple seconds shaking your head as you try to push down the heat crawling up your neck.

the wolf joins you a few minutes later, a loud yawn tearing through his throat. his hair is messy, damp from the shower and sticking up in odd directions.

(you cannot look away from him.)

"hey," he nods at you, claws absentmindedly scratching under his shirt.

(a glimpse of chiseled abs and scarred muscle.)

"hey," you answer back, still feeling warm. you clear your throat, brushing it aside. "ready to eat?"

a wordless nod. you stand up and head to the kitchen, exhaling deeply. you're not sure what that was, but you'll be sure to brush it under the rug.

in a few minutes the two of you are sitting across each other, as usual. toji ravenously digs into his food, tongue running over his lips subconsciously.

you watch, strangely satisfied. his jade green eyes briefly flick up to meet yours. when they find their mark, they turn away, but his shoulders seem to relax.

you shove your fork in your mouth, a little breathless. "h-how was your day?"

he swallows, heavy gaze finding yours again. "not bad. work was work."

you grin. "wow what a riveting revelation. how much do i need to donate for an elaboration, mister wolf?"

toji makes a show of rolling his eyes, chewing slowly. "you're so dramatic."

"i'm entertaining," you clarify, a smug smile tugging at your lips.

"whatever helps you sleep at night, kid." he huffs out what sounds like a dry chuckle, but you take it like it's a medal. he indulges your question though. "i helped on a construction site. it wasn't that hard."

another satisfied bite. "humans are always so creative when they try to get out of doing work."

your brow quirks. "what do you mean?"

he waves his paw haphazardly, looking exasperated. "y'know? with all their machines and shit."

you snort quietly. "yeah some of us can't lift ten thousand pounds like you."

he throws you an unamused glance, but continues eating. there's a pause, but then he asks. "how about you?"

you smother a grin behind your fork—how considerate of him. "it was fine. pretty boring day."

suddenly you perk up, a thought hitting you, and toji unconsciously leans closer.

"oh wait! i had to train someone today. it was so awkward!" you wave your fork around as you articulate your words. "he was really quiet and barely asked questions so i felt like i was yapping for hours to fill the silence. but he seemed nice enough so it's fine i guess."

(so that's the new trace of a scent that toji picked up on as soon as you walked in. it clung to you, overly sweet and sticky—molasses. worming its way around your body, almost parasitic. and you had no idea.

but he did. he knows the undertones in that foreign scent, can pick up the giddy nerves and faint arousal and sheer excitement. it disgusts him, irritates him beyond belief.

if it were up to him he'd dig his claws into that gross scent.

maybe if he were to tighten his grip, sink his teeth into your flesh—a sadistic little brand of his own—he could scrape that parasite off of you. replace it with a parasite of his own.)

"you do talk a lot," he replies. the offended look on your face is exactly the reaction he was waiting for, and he pushes down a smirk.

"well i have to make up for it since you're so boring!"

the two of you bicker over dinner, and toji does not know why it pleases him so much. the dips in your brows, the slant of your lips, the strained laughter behind your arguments—every microexpression threatens to worm its way into the inner crevices of his brain and settle there.

(parasitic beyond belief.)

these expressions stay in his mind even as he finds himself in his bed a few hours later. his jade eyes feel strained as they bore holes in the ceiling, the shadows creating monsters against the walls. he tries thinking of something else, but you remain, stubborn in a way that he does not know how to fight.

he briefly wonders whether this is normal—if other people also think of you after they spend time with you.

(but then he realizes that would mean that others are privy to seeing you the way he does, and suddenly the taste in his mouth is bitter.)

toji is grateful though. for the past few months, there would be nights where his dreams weren't so pleasant. where he would find himself back in a cold cell, with the sound of boots and growls and cheers echoing in his ears. or he'd be back in that family home, kept to the side, away from the rest because of his cursed blood and so called poisonous mother. where he would stand in front of a mirror and curse the features that made him so misfortunate.

so yeah, if it were up to him, he'd much rather see your pretty face behind his eyelids.

but even then it seems as though sleep will be eluding him tonight. his body feels restless, thrumming with energy and mild irritation. his skin feels numb and prickly, somehow simultaneously hot and cold.

toji rubs a weary paw across his face, grumbling. he doubts he's getting anymore sleep tonight—it's not like he isn't used to it. he throws the covers off, before standing up and stretching until he's heard a few satisfying pops. maybe he'll go watch something on your tv at the lowest possible volume, or he'll sit by the living room window until he dozes off on his own. whatever—he's just so damn tired.

his door creaks as he pushes it open, and he internally prays that you remain asleep. but from what he knows, while you are a relatively light sleeper, these sounds don't usually bother you. he pauses just as he walks past your room, sneaking a glance at the shut door.

he thinks he can picture you clearly behind the door, wrapped up in your sheets and pressed against your pillows without a care in the world. he wonders whether you're dreaming tonight, and if you are he wants to know what you see.

(wondering whether you see his face in the same way he sees yours.)

he does not know what compels him, but toji finds himself taking a seat on the ground, back pressing against your door. he can faintly hear the sound of your heartbeat, slow and even as you sleep. your breaths are low, steady—like the sound of waves gently rushing over warm sand.

it's rhythmic, tantalizing, so so soothing.

he can feel his eyes growing heavy, can feel the tension leaving his shoulders. he thinks he can feel the warmth of your body through the door.

toji is lucky that his ears are sensitive. because in the morning, when you quietly get out of bed, he will awake to the sound, and then he will hurry back into his room like nothing happened. he will make this a habit, seeking you out in the middle of the night when sleep is his worst enemy. and he will sit there, using the thumping of your heartbeats his own personal metronome—a lullaby.

but it will be his little secret.

he has always been so stubborn.

the bite of the stinging wind makes toji's hair stand on end, but he does not hate it. he'd much rather welcome the overcast skies than bake under a glaring sun. the sound of hammering and drilling and machines makes toji's ears twitch even under the stupid hardhat his boss insisted he wear.

whatever. just a few more hours and then he can go home.

he briefly thinks of you. wonders whether you'll be home before he is or whether he'll be the one waiting for you tonight.

he hears footsteps approaching, but barely flinches as his boss claps him on the shoulder. the stocky, genial old man is way too cheerful for a job so dull, but toji has gotten used to it by now. besides the guy practically adores the big strong hybrid who moves materials for him like it's the easiest thing in the world. and he never stops talking about it.

"what would we do without you, toji?"

toji snorts indifferently. "crash and burn?"

a bark of laughter cuts through the air and the wolf raises a brow.

"you're right about that." the old man grins, looking up at the hulking wolf with a mix of awe and gratitude. "some of these kids are too lazy."

he turns to bark a couple of orders to some of the younger workers, and toji bites back a wry grin, shaking his head. "what d'ya need me to do after moving these?"

his boss looks at the steel beams toji is currently stacking, before glancing down at his clipboard. "honestly, just need the bricks moved and you should be good to leave."

toji unconsciously perks up at that. suddenly he feels a lot more energized—starts working a little quicker.

his boss is quiet for a second, before he asks a question. "you got someone back home?"

toji throws him a disinterested glance, before resuming his work. "why?"

"well my daughter's got a friend. hybrid too, you know?" toji is barely listening, instead securing the ties around a couple of steel beams by his feet. his boss continues genially. "deer. she's real sweet."

"you know wolves eat deer, right?" toji's expression is so blank it makes his boss flinch. an awkward chuckle escapes the old man's lips, and he raises his hands in defeat.

"okay, i get it. you're not interested."

toji shakes his head mutely, turning his focus back to his work.

"but don't you wanna settle down? you're at that age right?" his boss ponders, glancing down at the clipboard in his hands. "don't most hybrids find a mate by this age?"

the word sets a shot of heat through his gut. he does not like addressing those things, base instincts that make him different from everyone else, which is why he has so adamantly pushed aside that part of his nature. because he hates the idea of tying someone to him, trapped with him forever. because he knows that once he has his teeth in them he will not let them go. because he has always been nothing more than a selfish animal.

he hates the idea with a burning passion.

(his blood is hot, fire in his veins. he wonders if you would let him do that to you, sink his fangs into your throat and let him eat you up. feel your flesh and blood under his ever so grateful claws—worshipping, all consuming.

somehow the idea becomes less revolting.

he wonders what you think about the whole thing. tying yourself to someone forever. would you be open to an animal? he hopes you wouldn't be. he knows there are similar traditions for your kind. something involving a ring on a finger and a big celebration to follow. but even that seems mediocre to him. does not hold the same meaning as making you his and devoting himself to you.

humans are so blasé.)

"like i said, not interested." toji's air of indifference makes the man's shoulders slump, but he brushes it off with a good natured chuckle.

"well okay. let me know if you change your mind. my daughter has a lot of friends."

a noncommittal grunt escapes the wolf and he speaks up before he can stop himself. "forget it. i got someone already."

his boss gasps, strangely giddy. "well you ass! why didn't you lead with that?"

(because he didn't mean to say it.)

toji shrugs carelessly, turning away. he doesn't want to talk about it—mostly because it's a lie. but also because he knows that if he thinks too deeply about it, he'll start wondering why it was so easy to offer you up like that. and why it disappoints him that it is really nothing more than a lie.

"it's not a big deal."

"i'm sure other people would disagree," the older man laughs. "what's she like?"

(another burst of fire—quiet, clinging, possessive. he would stand in front of you and take the intrusive stares into his own shoulder blades before he let them even look at you.)

"she's fine." the short answer is all toji wants to share.

"just fine?"

(perfect, he wants to say. but nobody needs to know that but him.)

"anyone ever told you you're nosy?"

his boss blinks, before letting out another boisterous burst of laughter. a clap to the back follows, and toji sighs in exasperation.

"fine fine. i'll stop. you're such a secretive asshole."

toji finishes securing the ties before easily hefting the steel beams onto his shoulder. he ignores the starry eyed gazes of some of the younger workers around him. his boss, despite seeing toji's brute strength before, still looks just as starstruck.

"where'd you come from anyway?" the older man finally blurts out. toji's shoulders tense, eyes narrowing as he pins an intrusive stare to the human. his boss backtracks.

"n-not that it matters!" he stumbles, and toji is suddenly reminded of how human the man is compared to him. "you know i don't care where you're from as long as you can work."

"i can work." the wolf's response is dry. he doesn't like the idea of sharing anything about himself to humans.

(besides you of course.)

"right. we've gotten a lot done since you've joined." the boss once again claps him on the back heartily, and toji has to push down the feelings of irritation at the casual touch.

(all he really cares about is finishing his work. the faster he gets done, the faster he can go home and see you.)

a few hours later, toji's pushing the apartment door open. his muscles are a little sore, but it's peace compared to the aftermath of his old battles underground. the extra key in his hand feels heavy, weighted with some importance that he is unused to. he decides he does not hate it as he drops it in the little bowl you have next to the door—right next to your own keychain.

"i'm back." his voice is low, just because he's still getting used to announcing his return. still getting used to the idea that someone is there waiting for him.

he sees your head pop up from over the back of the couch, and he is briefly reminded of a bunny. the thought almost makes him smile.

"welcome home!" you grin, propping yourself on your knees and peering at him. "how was your day?"

"meh," he grunts, shrugging his jacket off. you roll your eyes good naturedly, almost like you expected this response.

"you're so articulate," you drawl sarcastically, and he huffs. without thinking, he reaches over to give your forehead a gentle push.

"shut up."

you grumble at the shove, pushing his arm away before standing up and heading towards the kitchen. "ready for dinner?"

he glances at the clock, lips slanting unhappily. "you didn't have to wait to eat, kid."

"yeah but i wanted to." a cheeky smile stretches across your face, and he has the strongest urge to reach out and tug on your cheek until you're swatting at him in between laughs.

but all he can do is sigh. "stupid…"

the way you turn to stick your tongue out at him almost makes him chuckle.

in a few minutes you're both in your respective spots, digging into your food just as you do every night. dinner is quiet, but not uncomfortable. somehow toji feels relaxed even in your silence.

(he wonders why that is.)

eventually the wolf feels a pleasant chill run up his spine, so he unconsciously lifts his head. your eyes are pinning him to his seat, not sharp but ever so curious. he thinks he has finally learned how to read you.

(pick you apart and examine your pieces before putting you back together with reverent fingers.)

he is about to ask you to spill it, but you beat him to it.

"hey toji?" your voice is quiet, timid. his gaze travels over you, sharp eyes assessing the sudden nervousness in your posture.

"what?"

"can i ask you something?"

he hesitates, chewing his food, before nodding once.

"how did you end up underground anyway?"

he stiffens. a rush of anger floods through his body. the familiar feeling of hatred as he thinks of the cursed last name he once had and who that name belongs to.

he steels himself, trying to keep those emotions suppressed. the last thing he wants to do is get angry in front of you. so he just swallows, and looks down at his plate. "my family sold me there."

he hears your sharp inhale, can practically smell the spike of indignant anger, before the sadness follows.

"your own family?"

he shrugs haphazardly, like it doesn't matter—it does. "yep."

you watch him continue eating with an evidently sympathetic look in your eyes. he still does not know how to react to that expression, but he knows that it makes his stomach churn with a strange mix of sensations.

"why?" you press, leaning forward. in between the shine of curiosity in your eyes, he sees that subtle spark of anger—anger on his behalf. once again, this idea makes him strangely giddy.

another shrug. toji leans his chin in his palm, gaze drifting to the side. "don't know. they just don't really fuck with hybrids."

you make a face. he suppresses a chuckle.

"as soon as they found out my old man got with my ma, they said i'd be trash," he continues. "cursed her for ruining his life. ever since i was born they told me that i wasn't like them. animal scum, y'know?"

he says all this very casually, but he finds that he cannot look away from you. he wants to greedily drink in every little expression, every sliver of emotion, every single detail that betrays your thoughts and feelings.

(he wants to open you up and dig through flesh and blood until he finds your beating heart. he wants to find it and gently hold it in his palms. take it and keep it close to his own so that it remains untouched—unhurt. safe.)

your expression looks sad now, and toji briefly regrets answering your questions. he finds that he really does not like this expression on you.

"so they just sent you there?" you ask, fiddling with your food. it seems like you've lost your appetite now. "that's it?

toji gives a noncommittal roll of his eyes. "well they spent eighteen years feeding me and growing me up. they figured i owed them for their generous charity."

another grimace of distaste.

"so as soon as i was an adult they sent me down there. been fighting ever since." he finishes the last bite of his food. licks his fingers clean. jade eyes find yours.

a sad dip of your brows. "i'm so sorry. that's terrible."

(you offer your comfort so willingly. naive and warm.

he is an animal. a greedy one. he will take and take and take until there is nothing left to give. until he is attached to your warmth at a level that goes microscopically deep. past skin and muscle and bone and blood.)

toji hums, standing up to go put his empty plate in the sink. just as he is passing by you, he notices your expression—he pauses in his tracks.

you purse your lips, hesitant. but you seem to get over whatever fear you had and speak up. "i'd give you a hug but i know you'll throw a fit."

(his ribcage jumps—he thinks he can feel himself salivate. dripping from his fangs.)

you grin to yourself, like you've told a joke. once again he greedily drinks it in. when you meet his eyes again, blinding smile just for him, he thinks he has been reborn.

"so i'll just say i'm glad you're here."

toji's throat goes dry. there is a flood of thoughts then—uncontrollable and honest. he wonders what it would feel like, a hug from you. if he thinks hard enough, he can imagine the brush of your fingers against his shoulders, around his waist. can feel the tickle of your hair under his chin. can feel the warmth of your cheek against his chest. can feel your scent fill his nostrils. the steady thrum of your heartbeat pressed against his own.

he swallows with a bit of difficulty.

your words dance in his ears—so frustratingly pleasant. i'm glad you're here.

only you could say something so disgustingly sweet and have his head spinning. he thinks you might be more dangerous than he is.

because strangely, his lips pull into a smile, one that is weirdly fond, and he reaches up to put a heavy hand on your head.

you blink, confused, as he ruffles your hair. it's not at all gentle—gruff and unrestrained in a way that is so inherently toji. but you relax under his touch without even realizing it yourself.

he wants to say more. wants to tell you that yes, he's glad to be here too. with you.

but he bites his tongue, drops his hand, and revels in the fact that he can at least look at you right in front of him.

"did your family really care that much when they found out a hybrid was gonna be born into the household?" you ask, and toji continues his walk over to the kitchen sink, answering over his shoulder.

"yeah. the zenins have always been so picky about their stupid bloodline."

from the corner of his eyes, he catches the way your jaw drops at his casual statement. his ears pick up the sounds of you tripping over yourself to follow him, and he almost laughs.

"wait wait zenin like the owners of that super huge company? the really rich ones? those zenins?!"

"that's the one," he smirks mirthlessly, pawing at the faucet. the sound of his family name drives away any remaining semblance of appetite he had. he sneaks a glance at your expression, finding a sliver of amusement at the wide eyed stare you're sporting. a quiet chuckle tumbles past his lips. "gonna tattle?"

your expression turns affronted as you scoff. "do you really have that little trust in me?"

"no. i trust you." he says it so blankly, a deadpan stare on his face as his jade eyes pin you to your spot. heat crawls up your neck, unaccustomed to such blatant honesty from the normally so closed off hybrid.

you clear your throat, and toji bites back a smile. the flustered expression on your face is new to him.

(there is warmth radiating off of your face that he has never felt before. he can see your eyes dart to the side, can see you shrink a little at his statement. his eyes trace the way your tongue darts out to wet your lips. this behavior is unfamiliar, but he thinks he likes it. flustered, embarrassed, shy—all because of him. the urge to brand himself with your name grows in his gut like a flame, hot and desperate.)

somehow he finds that his appetite has returned.

so so hungry.

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if your name is here but you didn’t get tagged, it’s either bc your blog is new/blank/empty or you need to check your privacy settings !!

[sluttywonwoo]

they wanna (fuck)

pairing: joshua hong x f reader x vernon chwe

summary: your boyfriend joshua wants to explore something new with you… and his best friend

warnings: swearing, smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: threesome/cuckolding adjacent, oral (f receiving), protected and unprotected sex, choking

word count: 3.2k

your boyfriend grew up an only child. he’s not the best at sharing. which is why it surprised you more than a little bit when he suggested letting one of his best friends fuck you.

it wasn’t like you were opposed to the idea, you just didn’t think he was serious. you thought it might be a test. but it wasn’t.

“why vernon?” you’d asked.

“he’s got a thing for you,” joshua said, shrugging like it was no big deal.

“and he told you this?”

“nah, just caught him looking at your ass a bunch of times.”

“and have you asked him about this?”

“i was going to bring it up the next time i see him.”

“oh my god, he doesn’t even know?”

joshua scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “well, of course i’d bring it up to you first! it’s your vagina!”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“look, do you want to fuck him or not?”

-

you did want to fuck vernon. it wasn’t like it was a fantasy of yours or even something you’d dwelled on beyond a passing thought, but the man was certainly easy on the eyes and the way he carried himself made you wonder about… things how big it was.

joshua didn’t tell you exactly how the conversation went down. he just told you that vernon was “extremely down” for it, and that they planned for a time when all three of you were free.

“but why do you want me to fuck one of your friends?”

his cheeks turned pink. “um, it’s kind of a possessive thing, i think.”

“what? how does that work?”

“i just think it’d be hot to watch someone fuck you knowing that i get to have you all the time. i’m letting them have a taste but they’ll never get to experience you the same way i will… never get to make you feel the way i do.”

it was your turn to be flustered.

joshua peeked at your reaction. “is that… bad?” he asked nervously.

you shook your head. “no, not bad at all.”

he breathed a sigh of relief. “okay, good. good.”

-

when the day actually rolled around, you could tell joshua was having second thoughts. he kept himself busy all morning, cleaning the kitchen, doing laundry, organizing and reorganizing your shared record collection (they’re chronological now)…

“we don’t have to do this,” you reminded him.

“i know. i want to, though,” he assured you. “i’m just nervous about what it will be like to see you with someone else…” he trailed off but you knew what he was implying. he was afraid his jealousy would get the better of him.

you rubbed his back comfortingly as you listened. “well, we can stop at any time.”

he nodded and took your hand, squeezing it once. “the same goes for you, you know.”

you checked the clock. “shouldn’t he be here by now?”

“have you ever known vernon to be on time?”

“fair enough.”

he gets there around fifteen minutes later, looking just as nervous as your boyfriend. maybe even more so. but once joshua goes over the arrangement again and everyone starts taking their clothes off, they both seem a lot more relaxed.

“you can kiss her, you know,” joshua murmurs from his side of the room, apparently dissatisfied with the pace of things. “as long as you don’t leave any marks.”

“is that ok?” vernon asks you.

“yeah, kiss me,” you encourage, pulling him by the shoulders until his nose is just inches from yours.

he closes his eyes and leans in, meeting you halfway. it’s a weird feeling, kissing someone who isn’t your boyfriend, but it isn’t bad. embers of excitement from the unfamiliarity of it all are quick to spark between you, quelling the anxiety and igniting something carnal inside you both. vernon’s the first to use tongue, much to your surprise. a startled moan leaves your lips as he slips his tongue between them.

you’re not sure how much time passes before he pulls away but when he does you’re taken aback by his appearance. your boyfriend’s best friend, always so reserved and quiet, looks like a completely different person.

vernon’s always been handsome of course, but you’ve never looked at him like you’re looking at him now.

he looks almost vampiric, pale skin glowing in the dim light of the table lamps lit on your nightstands. his cheeks are flushed pink with heat and his lips are a little swollen from kissing you so deeply.

“can i touch you too?” he asks, breathless.

“yes, please,” you gasp, “please touch me.”

his hand slides down between your bodies to where your legs are already spread for him. you’d be embarrassed about how eager you are for another man in front of your boyfriend if he wasn’t currently watching the two of you while he palmed himself over his boxers.

everyone had just undressed to their underwear so no one’s naked yet but vernon appears to be intent on changing that for you. he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to both him and joshua as he pushes a finger inside of you.

your grab on to him for stability, head falling slack against his shoulder.

“add another one, she likes the stretch,” joshua advises.

vernon stiffens a bit— you can’t tell whether it’s from annoyance at being told what to do instead of being allowed to figure it out himself, or if it’s because he had forgotten your boyfriend was still there altogether, but he does what he’s told nonetheless.

the effect is immediate. you moan, maybe a little too loud, and try to muffle yourself in vernon’s shoulder. your first instinct is to bite him, because that’s what you do with joshua when things start feeling intense, but you don’t know him like that. you don’t know if it’s something he’s into. still, your grip around his bicep tightens as he continues to finger you, nails threatening to dig into his skin.

“you can mark me up,” he tells you with a smirk, like he can read your mind. “i don’t mind.”

you take him at his word, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. he moans at the feeling and it’s only then that you realize you could be touching him too. you reach for him but before you can get your hand on him he leans back to look at joshua.

“can i eat her out?”

your boyfriend considers his friend’s request for a moment before answering.

“yes, but she can’t suck you off.”

you wilt a bit but you know joshua didn’t make that rule to punish you. he was already sharing so much of you by exploring this kink that you can’t blame him for wanting to keep part of you for himself. you’re honestly surprised he’s letting vernon go down on you in the first place.

vernon tsks. “i don’t care about that, i just want to taste her. lay back for me, baby.”

you do, but not before scooting up the bed so that vernon can comfortably lay on his stomach between your legs. joshua comes to your side and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“how’re you doing, baby?”

“good,” you say through a hazy smile.

“yeah? his fingers feel good?”

“mhm…”

“i bet his mouth will too.”

you can see how hard joshua is through his boxers, can see the small dark spot where precum had seeped through the fabric. you’re relieved to know he’s enjoying it just as much as you are— maybe more. you long to touch him too. you try to, but he steps just out of reach. is no one going to let you jerk them off tonight?

you’re distracted by vernon again before you can protest.

“let’s get these off of you,” he murmurs, tugging at the elastic of your panties.

you lift up so he can slide them down your legs. he gets them off in record time and shoulders himself between your thighs, kissing his way up to your pussy. first your knee, then your inner thigh, then the crux of your hip.

“not too much now,” joshua warns from his corner.

you roll your eyes. “shua…”

“what! i’m just reminding him not to get too comfortable!”

“that’s fair,” vernon interjects. “sorry.”

joshua mumbles something else but neither you or his best friend catch it because vernon had already buried his face in your cunt.

“oh, fuck,” you gasp, hands flying to his hair.

he’s eager for it, that much is clear. he only sucks on your clit for a couple of seconds before going straight to tongue-fucking you, as if that had been his goal this whole time. you figure he must feel like he has something to prove— or he just really likes eating pussy.

it’s good. he’s good. too good. he’s not better at it than joshua, but he is about to make you cum in a few seconds flat which is a problem because you never cum that fast with your boyfriend.

it’s probably a mixture of vernon’s aggressive technique and how hot you find this whole arrangement to be but you still don’t want it to make joshua feel some type of way so you try your best to hold off a little longer.

you conjure up sad thoughts, try thinking about all the chores you need to do, all the things you’ve heard men do when they try and stave off an orgasm but you know you’re fighting a losing battle.

“already, baby?” joshua muses, drawing your attention to him again.

he’s degrading you like he normally would in bed but you can tell he’s at least a little pissed off from the way his eyes are wider than usual.

“is he that good?”

you shake your head adamantly, fumbling for words. “n-no! i mean he’s good but uh, i don’t-”

between your legs, you can feel vernon smirking against you. you want to smack him but you can’t feel your arms anymore.

joshua scoffs in disbelief and tongues his cheek as you bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. always the gentleman, though, he leans down and offers you his hand for you to anchor yourself as you cum.

"you're not a very good liar, angel," is all he says as you give up on fighting it and let it hit you. you squeeze his hand hard, back arching off the mattress, pushing your hips further into vernon's face.

vernon doesn't stop until your body goes slack and joshua doesn't let go of your hand until vernon stops.

they let you catch your breath before either of them speaks again. vernon is still grinning as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. he's dripping with you but he doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, going as far as to lick the remnants of you from his fingers as if he hadn't just had his head between your thighs less than a minute ago.

"she tastes so fucking good," he murmurs.

"i know," your boyfriend mutters.

"lucky bastard."

joshua turns his attention to you, expression softening when he sees how dazed you look. “you okay, baby?”

you nod with a smile. “mhm.”

“do you want to keep going? do you need a break?”

“wanna keep going,” you say as you prop yourself up on your elbows and look between the two of them. “if you guys do, obviously.”

“fuck yeah,” vernon exhales, making you and your boyfriend laugh.

“you brought condoms, right?” joshua asks.

you and joshua don’t use condoms anymore so you didn’t have any on hand. the two of you debated picking some up beforehand but joshua wasn’t sure what size to get so he just told vernon to bring some himself. problem solved.

“uh yeah,” vernon answers, grabbing his jeans off the floor and fishing a handful of them from one of the pockets. “i didn’t know how many to bring,” he says sheepishly.

“if we don’t use them all today, we can save them for another time,” you assure him.

joshua and vernon react at the same time. “another time?!”

“like if this goes well, right?”

joshua pretends to be annoyed but you can see the little smile that he tries to hide behind his hand, secretly pleased that you're enjoying this as much as he is.

vernon's quick to get the condom on and his boxers off, ripping the packet open with his teeth and rolling the latex down to the base of his cock.

he isn't longer than joshua but he is thicker. he's really thick, actually. your mouth waters at the sight and you clench around nothing, feeling even more hollow than you had when he first took his fingers out of you.

"she's got a bit of a size kink," joshua informs his friend, following your gaze to his dick.

"that's not true!" you protest.

"it's a little true," joshua insists.

vernon just grins. he clearly doesn't care about the truth, whatever it is. he's just happy to know you like what you see.

"josh, what position do you want me in?" vernon asks.

joshua doesn't even have to think about it. "either from behind or tabletop. regular missionary is too intimate."

you have to agree. even though it feels incredible, you wouldn't want to experience that with anyone but joshua.

"do you have a preference?" vernon asks you.

"let's do tabletop," you decide. "i want to see you."

"i was hoping you would say that," he admits. "we can switch positions later on if you want."

"you think you'll last that long?" you tease, reaching out to stroke him once or twice just to see him react.

vernon hisses and jerks away from you, cock twitching against his stomach. "good point," he grits out, "we'll cross that bridge if we get to it."

he gets up off the bed and walks around to the foot of it, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling until you're flush with his hips.

"damn dude," joshua says under his breath.

vernon ignores your boyfriend's comment even though he's blushing, choosing to put his full focus on you instead. you're already squirming beneath him, desperate to feel him for the first time.

"are you ready?"

"yes."

"are you sure?"

"god, vernon, if you don't put it in alr-"

the threat works. he pushes himself inside of you in one go, face scrunching up as he fists the sheets beside your head to steel himself.

"god damn it," he chokes out, legs trembling. it sounds suspiciously like a sob but you're too busy trying to adjust to his size to call him on it. "fuck, how do you feel so good?"

"it's insane, right?" joshua gloats. "she's perfect."

"it's not fair..." vernon whines, mostly to himself.

"how does he feel, baby?" joshua asks you, coming close and petting your hair again. he then wipes the tears from the corners of your eyes and then presses the same fingers against your mouth, the salt stinging your swollen lips.

"he f-feels good." your answer comes out muffled against his hand but it seems to satisfy your boyfriend and your lover nonetheless.

he feels better than just good, he feels fucking incredible. the stretch is so intense you feel like you're about to be split in half but you aren't able to articulate that with how overwhelmed you are.

vernon gathers himself eventually but it takes several deep breaths and what sounds like a prayer for strength before he continues.

"can i move?" he asks you, the request bordering on begging.

"yeah, please. please fuck me."

he gives a couple of experimental thrusts before building up to a steady rhythm, each one feeling better than the last. you're so wet that the glide of him inside of you is almost too easy but there's still a bit of resistance due to how thick he is.

"how do you like it?" he grunts, "fast, slow?"

"th-this is good," you say.

"rub her clit," joshua adds.

"i was getting to that," vernon mutters.

he slows down and snakes a hand between your legs, feeling around for it until he feels you tighten up around him.

"there we go," he whispers gently, repeating the pattern he remembers you liking the most.

"you're so fucking pretty, baby," you hear joshua say, making you reach out for him in search of his hand. he gives it to you immediately, squeezing affectionately and encouraging you to do the same. you always held hands during sex. it was a way you were able to anchor yourself to him, squeezing his palm whenever something felt particularly intense. it was comforting to have that translate here as well.

"i love you," he says, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

a profession of love while another man is inside of you is a little strange, all things considered, but it still makes you melt.

"i love you too," you reply, before remembering the aforementioned other man inside of you. "sorry, is this turning you off?"

he doesn't even look fazed by it. "nah, it's fine. she got so fucking tight when you told her you loved her."

joshua smirks. "wanna know what else makes her tight?"

"what?"

your boyfriend lets go of your hand, promising to come back, and rounds the bed to whisper something in his best friend's ear. vernon's eyes get wide and his hips stop moving.

"for real?"

joshua just nods as he takes his place by your side again, offering you an innocent smile that you don't buy at all.

vernon exhales harshly and shakes his head like he has to psych himself up for whatever he's about to do or say, which makes sense when he leans forward and wraps a hand around your throat.

you gasp in surprise but clench around him almost immediately, just like joshua said you would. he only applies a little bit of pressure but it's enough to have the desired effect.

vernon curses and stutters forward, eliciting what sounds like a whimper as he struggles to get his other hand back between your legs.

"told you."

"i'm not going to last," vernon stammers, looking away from his best friend in embarrassment.

"you can cum whenever you want."

"but sh-she hasn't yet..."

"i'll take care of that, don't worry," joshua assures him. "you made her cum on your face already, remember?"

"but i, i... fuck," his voice breaks off into a whine, the rest of the sentence dissolving on his tongue. it's like he can't stop fucking you, can't even slow down, even though he doesn't want to cum yet.

"come on, give it to me," you sigh out.

he gives in finally, practically collapsing on top of you as he cums into the condom. he weakly thrusts himself through it, kissing you to swallow the noises he's making.

he's still twitching inside of you when he catches his breath.

"sorry, i'm sorry," he breathes. "i didn't mean to-"

"baby, it's fine," you tell him earnestly. "we wanted you to feel good."

he pouts but nods like he understands and pulls out with a groan.

"and like i said," joshua interjects, patting his friend on the back as he trades places with him and notches the head of his cock inside of you. when he took his underwear off, you have no idea, but you can't bring yourself to care when he bottoms out and offers you his hand one last time. "i'll take care of the rest."

[rhenuvee]

Pretty Privilege [Alhaitham x reader]

A/N: not Alhaitham managing to sneak his way into my drafts for a third time, reader is from Kshahrewar, lovesick!Alhaitham (Alhaitham's a jerk to everyone but you, might be ooc), lowkey could connect to my other Alhaitham fics

Warnings: drinking mentioned but not alcohol, reader gets a little emotional if you squint (not used to affection)

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Your boyfriend Alhaitham was... something else. You were new to the whole relationship thing, so adjusting to the dating life was something you had to get used to. What you still couldn't fathom were the "perks" Alhaitham has granted you, as his partner.

"Alhaitham, what is this?"

His roommate Kaveh stood with his arms crossed, looking at the scene before him: You were sitting on the couch, meticulously making your model of your project due soon. It was clear from your eyes that sleep wanted to overtake you, but of course you couldn't give in. But the worst part was Alhaitham, who was sitting next to you- though it was more like behind you by the way he rested his chin on your shoulder.

Kaveh is all for supporting your relationship, and on a normal day he'd treat you guys like friends (he'd never say that to Alhaitham). But in this situation, there was something particular irritating.

"...what do you mean." Alhaitham asks in a bored manner.

"It is almost midnight and you're still up."

"So?"

"So, you're usually asleep by at least two hours ago."

"And?"

"...You- You'd usually complain about something like this! How many times have you bashed me for working on my projects this late, and now you're here with (y/n) staying up! Nothing against you (y/n), you know I'd understand." Kaveh adds in the last part quickly, seeing as his complaint might seem directed towards the wrong person.

"All good." You reply robotically, yawning right after.

"Remember what you said a few weeks ago about the lows of Kshahrewar? I sure hope you have something to explain that and the spot you're in right now, particularly taking back what you said."

"Mhm, Kshahrewar is the best darshan..." Alhaitham mumbles halfheartedly in a monotone voice, almost nuzzling his head closer into your neck.

"...Somehow I don't feel satisfied with that." Kaveh sighs, arms loosening from their crossed position. It was clear that the Scribe didn't actually mean it, or at least was occupied with other things that made his answer seem insincere. The architect leaves, not finding any solution to the issue.

However, the obvious bias doesn't end here. Something similar happened the next week, except the victim wasn't Kaveh (for once). You were waiting in line at a restaurant near the Akademiya.

It sure gets busy during lunch time... You think. And even busier because of the special gift they were giving away…

"(Y/n)." A familiar voice calls to you. You look up from your daze and realize it's your boyfriend.

"Alhaitham, what are you doing here?" Suddenly, you start to feel pairs of eyes drift to your conversation.

"More like what are you doing here." He replies sharply. You internally giggle at your boyfriend's sassiness, but don't fault him because there is an abnormally long line this time.

"Well... they're giving away a free TCG card with their new sandwich." You say shyly. You feel a sigh coming from him for lining up for a little thing, but...

"Why don't you just ask the owner? I know him." He replies.

"...What do you mean, ask the owner? You mean just go up to the front?" You ask.

"Yes."

"-Alhaitham. I can't just do that, I can't cut in line." You stammer. You can't believe your boyfriend would actually condone this type of behaviour. He shrugs and walks off. You huff, thinking how sometimes you can't read him.

A few minutes later, you see him walk back with... a sandwich and TCG card in hand.

"Alhaitham." You cross your arms and look right at him. However, of course it doesn't intimidate him, as he just stares right back with the same deadpan eyes.

"Yes?"

You walk out of line, quickly pushing him until you both reach a less crowded area. Because you're behind him trying to shove him by his stupidly large torso, he secretly smiles at how cute you are, trying to take control of the situation and how you puff your cheeks out because of it.

"Alhaitham, you did not just go to the front and ask for the sandwich." You say, starting to scold him.

"I got the card too." He says, waving it. You tsk, snatching the sandwich and card out of his hand. He snorts at your slight frustration in his literalness.

"Alhaitham, you didn't have to. I could have waited in line like a normal person." You pout, trying to make him see the bad sides of his actions.

"The owner would have kept one for me anyway. And I wouldn't let you stand outside for so long. Especially with how heavy your bag is- don’t Kshahrewar students carry bricks?" He explains, sitting down on the stone.

"That's not really the problem..." You say, even though that last part was quite true. "Even though the owner kept one aside, the people in line who saw that would have felt really mad at you for cutting."

"Why should I care about what they think?"

"Alhaitham!" Sometimes you hate how quick and blunt his responses are. You sigh again. By now you already knew about your boyfriend's habits and how straightforward he thinks- and most of the time he is right. At least you know he had good intentions.

"Don't do it again, please?" You say, sitting and putting your hands on his chest. "At least not without asking me first."

"Okay, fine." He's willing to make compromises, especially when you look at him so dearly. You eat your sandwich in peace, giving Alhaitham a few bites here and there, and talk about things that happened today.

Buuttttt, it still doesn't end there. A couple months later, the semester ends and you decide to go out and have drinks with your friends. Alhaitham also mentioned he was going to be there with his friends, but he'd be at another table. It's a win-win, plus it's good to have him there for safety.

"And then, he just brushed everyone off! So I don't think I'd ever have a chance with him." Your friend says sadly.

"I don't think anyone has a chance with him." Another chimes in. You and your friends laugh at the wittiness, happy to be enjoying each others presence after a long semester of working and studying.

"I've seen him carry an anemo vision." You say from passing by him a few times.

"I've seen that too!" Your friend remarks, and the rest nod along. "He's probably very strong."

"I hope you guys have been enjoying your night!" A waiter says as he comes to the table. "Here are your bills."

The waiter hands your friends their bills, but doesn't hand you one.

"Excuse me! You didn't give me mine." You say quickly, before he leaves again.

"Oh! Your boyfriend has already paid for yours." The waiter says, pointing to his table, then heading off. Your friends coo at how sweet you guys were, and suddenly you have a sense of deja vu. After your friends pay their bills for the night, you immediately walk over to Alhaitham's table.

"Alhaitham."

"Yes?" Once again, you're hating how deadpan he sounds when you know he knows what you're about to say.

"You didn't have to."

"I did." You frown again.

"I'll be outside, saying bye to my friends." You say after sighing. Alhaitham nods, and his friends can only smile when they see another occurrence of him spoiling you.

"Why is it that (y/n) gets much better treatment from Alhaitham, yet also doesn't approve of it?" It's Kaveh's turn to pout now.

"I think it's more of 'acceptance' for them, and let's be honest I'd have a hard time accepting kindness from Alhaitham." Cyno says matter-of-factly. Tighnari's ears perk up at Cyno's blunt yet witty remark, while Kaveh can only grumble in agreement. Alhaitham, surprisingly has a small smirk on his face despite the little jab from Cyno. Kaveh's frown deepens.

"I need another drink." Kaveh crosses his arms. Tighnari and Cyno look at each other confused.

Alhaitham abruptly bids his goodbyes, walking off with a satisfied smile. He joins you and catches up, hearing that you've just said goodbye to your friends as well. After a few minutes of walking, Alhaitham breaks the silence.

"The boys think I've been treating you a lot better than them." He says. You turn and look at your boyfriend, a little surprised that he's starting the conversation this time. Usually when you have time alone, you're the one who starts talking. But you close your eyes and smile, taking this as a sign that he's had a good time- even if he won't admit it.

"It's because you do." You say. You’re surprised he brought this up. You're aware of Alhaitham spoiling you since your relationship started, and it has pushed you into a realm of affection you didn't know of. It's still hard to grasp for you, since it is your first relationship, and he makes you happy.

"Is there a problem with it?" He asks.

"...no." You say shyly. The question he asks has a bit more of a unsure 'no' for an answer than you say, but Alhaitham seems to catch on. "It's just hard to get used to."

"Hard to get used to? You deserve it though." Alhaitham says. And you almost want to cry the way you know he's being genuine, but the words feel foreign to you. He senses your emotions, and brings you to a stop, just a few steps away from his house.

"Alhaitham..." You can barely croak out a sentence. He gives you a soft kiss on your forehead, running his fingers near the spot, soothing you.

"And besides, what they don't know is that I do treat everyone fairly. Including you." He says. You cock your head in confusion. His statement sounds normal, but you can't help but think he means otherwise. "Remember your overdue library book? I did hold you accountable that time."

You quirk your head in confusion. You do remember that, and how panicked you were when you realized after he pointed it out. But you were certain he did not hold you accountable, which was terrible especially with his role in the Akademiya now.

"No you didn't." You remark.

"I did. I told you to give me a kiss."

"Wh- a kiss is a romantic thing, not transactional! You mean to tell me that was conpensation?" You sputter in disbelief. He nods, and you can't stay mad to him. "Alhaitham, you're so mushy-"

"I agree. Add insufferable to that as well." A voice interrupts. Your head snaps to the source, which is of course a mopey looking Kaveh. "Also remind me next time, to walk twenty meters behind you guys instead, when walking home."

You open your mouth to say something, but end up staying silent when you watch Kaveh drag himself inside your shared home. You frown, and Alhaitham looks at you, knowing what you're thinking- the same you've thought several times by now.

"Do not." He says abruptly.

"I will buy Kaveh a cake." You say, not paying attention to your boyfriend. You were aware of their bickering, but a lot of times you can’t help but feel bad for Kaveh. Since you’re in the mix now, you feel partially responsible for the privilege you get from Alhaitham- even on his good side, it’s hard to watch others get ignored by him.

"No."

"And a coffee."

"No."

"Yes." You childishly protest against your boyfriend’s lack of empathy (which he does on purpose) towards who’s supposed to be, his best friend. “Tomorrow I will go buy him a cake and a coffee.”

“He can get his own cake and coffee.” He says sarcastically.

“Yes, but I’m sure it’ll make him much happier if he received it as a gift.” You explain.

“You don’t have to.” Alhaitham says, this time with a little bit of softness. You smile, recognizing his efforts to try and persuade you because you know he doesn’t understand why you care about these things. But this time, you won’t waver.

“But I will.” You retort, walking towards the entrance and grabbing the doorknob. “Besides, you said you hold me accountable, won’t you?”

Alhaitham smirks at your cheekiness as you sway your hips when you walk to leave him standing by himself, a satisfied look on your face after referencing the past conversation. He sighs and shakes his head, thinking of how bold you’ve become. He likes it.

“Of course I will.”

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Me: I love Diluc, he is my husband.

Also me: *writes 3 long ass finished fics on Alhaitham*

[teaboot]

Feels weird leaving an ask, like I’m walking up to a sage on a mountain and asking advice but that sage is likely just some guy in his pj’s eating cheese. Anyway any advice for how to be okay with being perceived? It’s hard to not feel like everything I do whilst in someone eyeline is embarrassing

I'm actually eating Pierogi in the bathtub right now so this is perfect

Okay first off, currently working my way out of the wet paper bag that is Social Anxiety that once had me agoraphobic and melting down on my way to buy groceries, just so you know what you're working with

Care about how you dress, but not in like, a fashion way. Just a "I like how I feel in this shirt" sort of way. And not so much, "I look good in these pants so I will wear them to be perceived Correctly", as, "I feel great in these house slippers and when I feel good I'm confident and when I'm confident I give less of a shit what the haters might think". Wear what feels good. Cut your hair and do your face and nails whatever way feels good. Appearance is secondary to vibes.

Lean into the funny. I waited 10 minutes in line for a coffee order that had already been set out for me this morning, and when the barista noticed, we both had a good laugh. Five years ago that would have killed me. Now I'm glad these poor workers will have a funny story over their bland ass shift. When I was in retail that would have been adorable and hilarious! And so, my goofemup is a gift. I am full of blessings

Get louder and watch as nothing bad happens. Take up more space and watch as nobody yells at you. Wear brighter or skimpier or janglier outfits and bask I the glory that is "Nobody gives a shit except the nice strangers who give me compliments". Marvel at how far you can push the envelope before anyone so much as comments on it. This will free you.

Say yes to terrifying opportunities to be Seen. Karaoke, dance, improv. And if you can't do it sincerely, embody a caricature of yourself. It's terrifying and it sucks eternally and forever and ever and ever like hellfire until suddenly it doesn't. Then have fun.

Be honest. Not unkind, but blunt if you need to. "I'm having a bad time". "This kinda sucks for me". "I know you hate this song but you can deal with these last 30 seconds because I need it to live". Mostly people will think it's a joke but respect it anyway. God bless

Please keep in mind that I am flying by the seat of my pants here and this is just stuff that's worked for me. I am still a nervous disaster crying into the void. Good luck space cowboy

[mismatched-sockss]

You're my future, past and present

» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader » Word count: 6,4k » Warnings: spoiler mentioned for 9x23 Angels / 9x24 Demons, Spencer's POV, exes to lovers, set after s15, anxious!Spencer, reader feels guilty at one point, language? (one 'bitch' from reader to reader), mentions of past fights, minor misunderstandings, random old lady plays cupid <3, fluff, kissing, how many phrases for being in love can one pack in two paragraphs? me: yes., » A/N: my brain is on strike for finishing bingo fics for some reason, it instead gave us this so yay!, i'm still working on those of course but i can't tell when i will get the next one done (in the words of one Penelope Garcia: Why do the last 10% always take the longest?), hopefully by the end of the week; it's lightly implied that reader can get pregnant in the beginning but it's not explicitly said (only mentions of kids), which is the reason i tagged it as fem but no mentions of anything body related or any pronouns (i think so, please let me know if i missed pronouns), so it might as well can be read as gn; no body description --- pls take a look here for more info about my reader descriptions in general

⚶ masterlist ⚶

He should have asked Penelope for a favour to look you up, before he came here. He had no idea how your life had changed in all these years he hadn't seen you or if you even wanted to see him again. It didn't particularly sound like it the last time he saw you.

You could be happily married with kids for all he knew. The thought alone almost made him turn around without even knocking on your door. He didn't know what he would do if this was the case. Or maybe you didn't even live here any more, you could have moved; to the other side of the city, to another state. Another country. You had toyed with the idea to move to Scotland back then, it very well could be that you had acted on it.

Too much time had past, five whole years – five years, three months, twenty-one days and eleven hours, forty-two minutes to be exact; but who was counting, right? – and there was too much history, too much heartbreak. Too many reasons why it hadn't worked out.

The main – and kind of only – ones being his job at the BAU and everything that came with it. The travelling and never being home, not even a free day or annual leave really meant not getting called in, the late nights, the worries that he could get hurt and may not be coming back home, the worries when he got hurt.

You had your reasons to break it off and he still thought that you were right to do so. He never held it against you, never resented you for leaving. Because he understood. If the roles would have been reversed, he may would have made the same decisions.

This whole idea was stupid. Why was he even here. He should just leave.

What did he think would happen when you saw him? That showing up out of nowhere – with no contact since the break up, not even a single text message – and having a 'new' job would change everything and would make you jump back into his arms in an instant like nothing happened? Yeah... Sure...

Maybe, deep down and in the tiniest crack of his heart, he didn't even want you to open the door; didn't want to see your reaction to him just showing up and the inevitable rejection that would surely come. He was sabotaging himself, really. And if he would be more honest to himself, he'd knew that. Maybe he did, but just didn't want to see it.

Spencer had been pacing back and forth in front of your door for an eternity by now; walking closer to it and already lifting his hand to knock, but changing his mind before his fingers even came close and he was walking a few feet away to leave, only to change his mind again and repeat the whole ordeal. Over. And over. And over.

He just couldn't make his mind up, he didn't know what to do. It shouldn't be this hard to knock on a door. Especially yours. But maybe it was this hard for him because it was yours.

At one point, he, a man of science, even asked the universe to give him a sign, to show him what he should do; if he should do it or if he should go.

That's when it happened.

Right after, as he was walking closer to the door again, he tripped over his own damn feet and he ended up kicking the door with his shoe; not hard, but audible enough.

Shit. Not the sign he was looking for. A pedestrian screaming something outside that he could twist into an answer, a car honking when he either was close to the door or walking away; hell, even a spam mail popping up on his phone that had a certain word in the subject line... No, it had to be this way.

Now he had to knock.

Taking a shaky breath, he hit his knuckles against the wood a couple of times and started fidgeting with his fingers as soon as he had lowered his hands. His heart was in his throat as he waited anxiously. His mind in a constant battle of 'please be home' and 'please don't be home'.

A moment later – both too short and too long at the same time – the door opened just a crack and it was really you standing there. Not some random person that would tell him you moved. You.

You didn't turn your head just yet, looking back over your shoulder instead, you held out your arm behind you and said “Stay there” in a soft voice to someone behind you. When you turned you blocked the entrance with your body and kept your left hand on the door.

Your eyes grew wide when you saw him. Spencer probably was about the last person you would have expected to see when you opened the door. He couldn't bring himself to break the silence first, didn't dare to speak.

“Oh, hey... Uh-”, you stammered looking for words, blinking in confusion. For a moment you opened and closed your mouth, and he knew you were hating that you looked like a fish out of the water, before you gave up and just settled for another “Hi.”

“Hi.” He hated how shaky his voice sounded. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes for a moment, looking down at his hands and the floor before he met your gaze again.

“Wow, it- it's been a while.”

“Yeah...”

“How long 's it been? Five years?”

“Five years, three months and twenty-one days.” Spencer pressed his lips together before he could blurt out the hours and minutes as well.

You laughed – not mean, but endearing – and the sound combined with the smile that spread on your lips made his heart leap. “Right.”

God, how much he had missed your laugh; how much he had missed you. Now that you stood before him, it became evident, that all the longing and yearning he had felt in the past years had been nothing more than a fraction of what he was really feeling; repressed by throwing himself into work and keeping his mind off you as much as he could.

His love for you never went away, never dulled even the slightest bit, and seeing you now was almost too overwhelming for him, his feelings for you crashing over him, nearly sweeping him off his feet.

“Uhm, I was just about to go to the park with Cleo”, you started, shooting a look over your shoulder and Spencer's heart dropped. He could have sworn it stopped beating for a few seconds as well. The Stay there hadn't rung any alarms in his mind, it could have been said to any person really. Going to the park with Cleo however...

He really should have asked Penelope to look you up before he came. You had a kid.

And since he could only see the heel of your left hand and not your fingers, he couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but there was a high chance there was a ring on your finger.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hold you up. I'll just, uhm-”, he stammered choked up and pointed his thumbs over his shoulder, taking a step back, about to turn away and leave.

“No”, you exclaimed, maybe a bit too quickly and panicked, as you held out your right hand like you wanted to reach for his arm; even making a small step out of the door. “You don't have to leave. You could- uh, you could come with us? If you want to.” If he wouldn't know better, he'd say there was a pleading look in your eyes, begging him to say yes and stay.

His mouth opened, but no words came out, no matter how hard he tried. He didn't even know what he wanted to say.

'Yes sure, let's go to the park with your daughter and rip my heart into pieces seeing and hearing about you living the life I dreamt of having with you, with another man'.

A plain 'No.' would be too rude, wouldn't it? Even if he would add a 'thank you' at the end, it didn't feel right.

“She uh- she likes meeting new people, she's really open; sometimes I'm afraid she'll walk off with anyone. Come here, girl.” You looked over your shoulder again and tapped your flat hand against your thigh a couple of times, then some clicking and scratching could be heard behind you on the parquet floor.

The speckled snout of an Australian Shepherd pushed in the space between your knee and the door, then tried to push through further after seeing Spencer. With a laugh you took a hold of the collar and held the dog back from running out.

“Cleo, stay.” You squatted down next to her, petting her head and scratched behind her ear. ”I have to warn you, she can be a bit rough when she gets excited.” A wide smile was on your face as you looked up at Spencer. “I've been trying to teach her to not jump up on everyone she meets, but it doesn't stick.”

Just like that, he felt like he could breathe again. Cleo wasn't your daughter but your dog and the ring you were indeed wearing on your left hand was one he recognized from your jewellery box.

A relieved chuckle left his lips and he mirrored your position. He held out his hand for Cleo to smell before he touched her. She really was excited; she was pulling against your hold and tried to get closer, her tail was waggling so hard her whole body moved in the rhythm and she nudged her nose against his palm hard after a short sniff, so he would pet her.

You did your best to hold her back, but after Spencer verbally said hi to her and was petting her on both sides of her head she surged forward; your hand slipped from the collar and Cleo threw her whole weight against him, making him loose balance and topple over.

With an outstretched arm he held himself up, laughing, as your dog rubbed her head against his torso and hand and was spinning around a couple of times between his legs, repeatedly leaning herself into him with every turn.

“Cleo!” Your voice had a warning tone to it that hadn't fully replaced your laugh though, not until she let out a small bark and started to lick over his face. “No! Stop!” You pulled her away and moved her back into the apartment; Cleo only reluctantly complied.

Before he could react, you shuffled closer on your knees until you kneeled right before him and in between his legs. You reached out and started to wipe the side of his face clean; the sleeve of your sweater pulled over your fingers. “I'm so sorry, she's usually not that excited. I have never seen her do this to someone that isn't me.”

He froze when you got close and he felt your touch, every soft stroke leaving behind a trail of fire, even with the thin fabric barrier between you. One would think his heart couldn't pound any faster in his chest than it already had since he had laid eyes on you again, but it did.

“It's- hu, it's okay”, he stammered as he was watching you intensely, with wide eyes.

“No, it's not”, you said softly and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, slightly tilting his head to the side as you tried to get everything off. “Do you want a wet wipe or something? You can come in and wash your face if you'd prefer that.”

Spencer couldn't help the smile stretching on his lips, his heart warming over the fact that you were still looking out for him, after all these years; after everything that had happened and all the things that had been said the day you broke up with him. His hand moved on its own accord and he wrapped his hand around your wrist, stopping you. “Really, it's okay.”

You met his gaze, heat rising in your cheeks and it was like you only now realized how close the both of you were sitting and that you were touching him. For a second you froze, your eyes wide. Then, after a deep breath, you pulled back to bring some distance between you and cleared your throat, looking away.

He could tell there was an apology forming on your tongue, but you swallowed it down. You began to nervously fidget with the hem of your sleeve and cleared your throat. “So, uh, do you want to come with us? There is this coffee shop on the way that opened about six months ago and they're really good, we- we could grab a coffee and catch up...?”

“I'd really like that.”

It was easy, talking to you. The initial awkwardness and anxiety he had been feeling had quickly faded and the both of you were talking as freely and open as before, like no time had passed; and he was incredibly grateful for it. Neither of you had been going to personal topics for now though – the closest thing to personal in a deeper sense was when you asked about his mom –, the both of you had been talking more about everything and anything.

[..] Did you end up getting that book collection you had your eyes on? - When did you get Cleo? - Oh, do you remember my coworker Grace? All the rumours really were true! - Is your neighbour still vacuuming solely in the middle of the night? [..]

About halfway to the park you stopped at the café you had mentioned and while you were waiting in line, you told him about the different coffee varieties they offered; the flavours, how strong they were, how sweet, the seasonal ones. You had drunk your way through the list three times and until you decided on your Top 5.

He crinkled his nose in adoration as he was listening to you rambling about the coffee – what you liked about each one and why you didn't like another – totally engrossed by you; you had done this in the past as well and it made Spencer happy that you still were. It was adorable. He wondered, if you still wrote down your Top 5's in that little notebook you had always kept in your purse.

The one you recommended to him was really good, you had met his taste precisely; the perfect amount of sweetness just how he liked it, and with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon.

There were many occasions he was about to reach for your hand, it was almost instinctually when you were this close to him. He didn't know if you would let him, if you would want it. So Spencer didn't. Instead he buried his hand deep into the pocket of his coat to keep himself from reaching for you, holding a tight grip on an old pack of gum he forgot was even in there.

Throughout the whole way from your apartment to the park, Cleo was happily dancing around you, just shy of making one of you trip over her. That she didn't circle around the both of you to wrap the leash around your legs – all '101-Dalmatians'-like – was all.

After you arrived at the park you walked a bit further in until you came to a fenced area that seemed to be reserved for dogs for them to freely run around without having to be leashed. As soon as you unhooked the leash from Cleo's collar she dashed forward, joining a group of dogs playing.

Spencer and you sat down on a bench and just sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching her. His hands got clammy as he got nervous because of the proximity, and he tried to wipe them on his pants as discreetly as he could. You were sitting so close to him, your thighs and shoulders were almost touching; he could feel the warmth radiating from your body and with every soft breeze the smell of your shampoo got carried over.

“So, uh... How have you been?”, you asked after a few minutes.

He huffed out a small laugh and licked over his lips. Where should he even begin. “Long story short? Not good then somewhat okay, bad, worse, better, okay.”

"Sounds like one hell of a roller coaster."

Oh you had no idea how much. And 'hell' sounded about right to be honest. "You could say that... How about you?"

"Wasn't much going on for me to be honest. I've been... okay? After some time at least...”, you admitted nervously, following Cleo with your eyes. “Everything alright at the BAU? How is everyone?”

“Good, they're good.” Spencer started telling you about all the changes within the team, but he left out all the bad stuff for now – he told you about Alex leaving, about Tara joining after practically a 36 hour long job interview for the open position, JJ and Will having a second child, that Morgan left and had married Savanah and that they had a son as well, Garcia vehemently trying – but ultimately failing – to hate the newbie Luke.

“Rossi got married last year.”

“Really? Again?” You let out a soft laugh.

“He re-married his third wife actually. They got back together after-” He had to stop for a second and swallowed hard as the spark of hope was reigniting in his chest. If Dave and Krystall had found their way back to each other after thirty years and made it work, five years didn't sound all that bad in retrospective. He tried to play it off like he was trying to remember the exact number of years. “Around three decades, I think.”

“Wow... That's a lot of time..”

“It is.” For a short moment Spencer didn't say anything more, trying to muster up the courage to tell you he left the team as well.

“And I- uh” He huffed out a small laugh, nervous, and let his gaze wander over the meadow. There he goes... “I'm not- I'm not with the BAU any more, actually.”

“...Oh”

For a moment you didn't say anything else and his heart beat faster. He couldn't a hundred percent gauge what your silence meant. What the oh meant. Did you care? Were you relieved or maybe even sad for him? Could – would – it change anything between you, even after all this time? Would you give the both of you a second chance? Him?

Hope started to rise up again in his chest and he tried to stop it and keep it at bay, so it wouldn't take over him; it would only crush him even more to lose you a second time if he'd let it happen. Spencer's breathing became more shallow and slightly faster as he waited for you to say more.

He could just turn his head to look at your face of course, study your expressions to get his answer without you saying another word. He didn't. Something held him back; maybe it was only because he was respecting your wishes from years ago not to profile you. Maybe it was fear of what he would see.

He heard you clear your throat and when you spoke, your voice was shaking, almost undetectable however. If you wouldn't sit so close to him – and if it wouldn't be you and he wouldn't be him – one probably wouldn't have noticed. “Why not?”

“Re-assignment due to budget-cuts or something like that. There were a couple of people higher up the food chain than Emily that had it out for us for a couple of years now.” His eyes followed Cleo sprinting over the grass, chasing and playing with the other dogs.

“Emily is back?”, you asked. The last thing you knew was that she had left for London not long after she came back from the dead.

“Yeah, she took over from Hotch after-” He stopped himself.

Telling you about Hotch and Scratch and why Emily fully became Unit Chief of the BAU, meant he had to tell you about everything else; everything that had happened to him. He just wasn't ready for this yet. This would have to be a story for another day; for both your and his sake.

“Anyway, I uh- I'm teaching now. Full-time. Mostly at the academy and some colleges here and there. But all in all-” Spencer took a deep breath. “Fixed work hours and no travelling for longer than a day.”

Only when he felt you tense up did he bring himself to look at you. You were sitting up with a straight back, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly pursed. Your eyes were darting around and he watched a muscle twitch on your jaw.

He quickly looked away again, concentrating on Cleo again, before he could read you more. He couldn't help it, it was hard not to and turn it off. By now profiling was in his blood, it was a subconscious habit he couldn't always control, it just happened. You didn't want to get profiled, so he did what he could do to not use his profession on you. If it meant turning away and not look at you, even if he was only looking just to see you, he'd do it.

Also, he knew that he was biased; another reason why he shouldn't. What he would see and read would not be accurate. Usually, this was not a problem, he could read body language and micro-expressions with a 99,42% accuracy, since he'd do it with a neutral stand. But right now it was personal.

What ever Spencer would see in your non-verbal communication, he was too involved to not let his judgement get clouded by his feelings for you, his hopes and his fears. He would only see what he wanted to see, or what he not wanted to see, depending on which part of his heart was winning at the moment; the confident and hopeful part, or the insecure and anxious part.

“That's... That's nice. Do you like it?” He wished, he knew what you were thinking right now. Your tone didn't give much away on how you were feeling, but you seemed a bit more relaxed to him.

“Yeah, it's fun. There are some key topics on the curriculum I have to cover of course, but other than that I have pretty much full reign over the subject matters. Learning is more fun when it is about something you're really interested in, so I take suggestions from my students for a lot of the lectures. It's been paying off already.” He smiled proudly. “They contribute more and most grades have gone up.”

Slowly, the longer you talked as the evening proceeded and the sun slowly began to set, he let himself go, allowed his heart to open up and he welcomed the prospect of having you back in his life – to what ever extent it may be, even if only as a friend if that was what you wanted.

His heart had leaped when you shared you weren't seeing anyone and it hadn't slowed down it's pace ever since. Both of you had been talking and asking about it in the most complicated and conspicuously inconspicuous ways one can ask 'are you dating someone?'.

Not only this, but you wanted to spent more time with him. Spencer couldn't believe his luck. It was almost too good to be true and he feared he might wake up from this wonderful dream any minute.

He could tell how nervous you were when you asked him; hands and voice shaking, fingers fidgeting with Cleos leash in your lap, your eyes not daring to meet his.

"Tonight is this big bonfire at the Benson's farm, you know, the one with the apple orchard? I was thinking of going and.. maybe if you- I mean, if you are free tonight and want, uh- Would you like to go with me?"

There was nothing he'd rather do, nowhere he'd rather be.

After a short stop at your apartment to bring Cleo home and for the both of you to freshen up, you made your way to the farm. It was a fairly short drive and the roads were mostly empty as it got later, a bright full moon illuminating the way now.

When you arrived, there weren't too many people present. It felt more like a large family gathering than a big event. At a decent distance were benches placed around the huge bonfire, there was a tent where various beverages and a few food options were served. Next to it stood a truck from the fire department and an ambulance; a precaution if the fire got out of control or someone got hurt.

The air smelled of smoke and burning wood, french fries, beer and Mrs. Benson's home made apple pie.

Sorry, Mr. Benson's apple pie as Spencer learned some time after you arrived. You introduced him to the hosts and you started to talk about a new recipe for the pie filling you had tried to make and Mr. Benson explained what he would have done different than the recipe you found had stated.

The Benson's were nice people – he had met them once when he had accompanied you to the farm to get apples and honey. You had gotten closer to them since then, dropping by to help them out from time to time, especially when it was time for the harvest.

He had to catch his breath as his heart fluttered, his eyes glued to your face as he watched you talk with old man Benson. The way your eyes wrinkled at the corners when you smiled and the excited glint in your eyes, how the fire painted beautiful orange patterns on your face as the flames danced high, fuelled by the soft breeze; combined with the silvery light of the full moon shining bright. You looked ethereal.

Spencer became increasingly aware of said man's wife and her three friends, who stood a little farther away. The women were whispering to each other and kept looking over, one of them not so subtlety pointing at the both of you. They weren't talking badly, not at all; they were smiling and giggling as they were talking, nodding at what the other ones were saying, swooning with their hands over their hearts from time to time.

It could only mean one thing – and he wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed about it, or not: that he all too obviously for everyone around looked as love struck as he felt; utterly bewitched by your beauty, completely head over heels, truly madly and deeply in love with you in every way, a total goner who was worshipping the ground you were walking on.

Thank god for the warm shine of the fire, or they would be able to see the blush rising up his neck in this moment as well... He just was glad that he had finished his piece of pie before this, otherwise he'd probably stand here with an open mouth and the fork frozen in mid air as he was looking at you. Now, that would have been a good picture.

What he didn't know though, was that they weren't just talking about the smitten look on his face, but yours as well. The longing glances you shot his way whenever he wasn't looking, how you were orbiting around him like the earth around the sun, a magnetic pull to each other that not even the both of you seemed to realise you had as you unconsciously stepped closer to the other when you stood too far apart. They talked about the fact, that you looked at Spencer with such a happy and beaming smile they hadn't seen on your face in a long time.

And that they could tell how hesitant and shy the both of you were about getting closer.

It's not like he didn't want to, believe me. The urge to hold your hand or wrap his arms around you – to kiss you – was still burning in every fibre of his body and it got more and more challenging to hold back, the longer he was around you. Leaving out the tiny part in him that was still afraid of getting rejected, he didn't want to impose on you by acting on it. He didn't want to possibly make you uncomfortable, so he left it to you to initiate any physical contact.

Admittedly, this was very much a bad plan if you were doing the same and were waiting for him to make the first move. However, the universe seemed to take matters in its own hands again.

Spencer had to remove himself from of the situation for a moment to restore some of his composure and not ogle you non-stop; especially not in front of all these people. He let you know that he would get the both of you something to drink and asked what he should get for you; when he came back, Mr. Benson had left.

For some time you stayed close to the fire, until he saw you lift your hand to fan yourself some air. “Too warm?”

You let out a small laugh and smiled at him. “Yeah, it starts getting a bit too much.”

He took the now empty cup from you and with a tilt of his head he signalled you to follow him. He gave the cups back to the person behind the make-shift bar counter and you walked a little farther away, putting some distance between you and both the tent and the fire. And the people too actually, the majority had gathered close around the flames in small groups.

“That's much better”, you sighed. “I like a nice fire as much as the next pers- oh.”

Before you could finish, you lost your balance when a body collided with yours from behind. You stumbled forward and Spencer instinctively reached out to catch you – he got a hold of your arms with a firm grip on them right above your elbows as you fell into him, bringing up your own hands to hold onto his shoulders.

“Oh, dear, I am so sorry, I must have tripped over something. Are you okay?”, the voice of a woman came from behind you.

Neither of you let go of the other as you turned to face her. Spencer recognized her as one of the women that had talked with Mrs. Benson earlier and the look on her face told a whole different story than her words; that she wasn't sorry at all and that it had been deliberately planned to bump into you.

“I'm okay, no worries. Are you?”, you asked her and quickly scanned her for injuries.

“Ooh, I'm good. I'm good...”, she replied, almost in a sing-sang kind of tone and a wide smile on her lips. She snickered softly and walked away, her hand raised with a lazy kind of flick in her wrist as a wave good-bye.

The both of you watched her walk away, baffled.

“Okayyy”, you let out as you kept your eyes on her for a moment longer. “As long as she didn't twist her ankle or something.”

You turned your head, and just like earlier in front of your apartment, it seemed like you only just now realised the position you were in when your eyes met his. How close you were and that you were still holding on to each other.

Only this time, you didn't pull away.

The world around him seemed to fade away, time standing still, as he held your gaze. Your breath hitched and when his eyes flickered down to your lips, Spencer felt your grip on him tighten, subconsciously pulling him closer to you. His heart was in his throat and it beat so loud that he was sure you were able to hear it. He let his eyes wander back up and when he saw that you were looking at his lips as well, he threw all caution in the wind and just... did it.

He let go of your elbows, took your face in his hands and leaned in, hovering his lips over yours for a short moment to give you an out, to give you time to pull away, but you didn't; instead you closed the small space that was left between you.

A long and deep sigh rumbled in the back of his throat when your lips met and he pulled you closer; as you leaned into him, your hands moved higher until your fingers were tangled in his hair, slightly tugging on it.

When you pulled back – more than reluctantly, but the both of you were still in public – , you were panting, your breaths mingling as your faces were still so close to each other. Spencer kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, not quiet ready to open them yet, afraid that when he did, he would wake up from an incredibly vivid dream.

“I'm sorry”, you suddenly choked out, which made him open his eyes in an instant. Tears were streaming down your face and you took a step back, keeping him at arms length. “I am so sorry, Spencer.”

“Hey, what's wrong? Talk to me, please.” Your emotions had changed so suddenly, he didn't know what happened, what made you cry. He wasn't sure what he should do, how he could help you calm down.

“I'm sorry”, you repeated, shaking your head.

“What for?” Did you regret letting him get close to you again; kissing him? Did you regret, that you hadn't just closed the door right in his face as soon as you had seen him this afternoon?

“Everything!” you choked out. “For how I acted all the time and for leaving like that, for leaving when I did. That I didn't contact you even once. For saying all those things, it wasn't fair. It never was. You didn't deserve it. I was so mean for no reason...” You sniffled and wiped the back of your hand under your nose. “I regretted every word the moment I said it, I didn't mean any of it. I couldn't stop talking and it was like I was losing control over myself and it all just came out and-....”

“Hey, I know...” Spencer took a small step closer to you. “In that moment it hurt, yes. And it took a lot of time until it stopped hurting; sometimes it still does. But I get it. You were scared. Some people get angry and lash out at the people around them when they are scared, especially directed at the person they are scared for; everyone reacts different. It's a totally normal reaction, I don't blame you.“

A sob came over your lips, your face twisting in pain. “Please don't be like that...”

His brows furrowed, a short and sharp pain in his chest. “Like what?”, he breathed out.

“So understanding... I acted like a total bitch to you! You should hate me... Why don't you hate me?” Your voice broke and got smaller with every word.

The corners of his mouth slightly raised to the whisper of a smile and Spencer closed the distance between you, lifting his hands to cup your cheeks. He wholeheartedly meant what he said next; there was not one thing he could think of that would change anything about it.

“I could never hate you.”

“You were shot. You needed me and left you alone and-”

“I've had worse. Before that day in Texas and certainly after”, he trailed off and softly shook his head when your brows furrowed even more, pain and fear so evidently in your eyes; he could tell that you knew he wasn't talking about anything related to the break-up.

“It's okay, I'm okay.” Spencer brushed your tears away, holding your face so gently in his hands as if you'd break into a million pieces if he wasn't careful enough. By the looks of it, you may very well would. Not a risk he was willing to take.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he stopped you from asking what had happened after, by placing his thumb over your lips. “Not tonight.” Gently, he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip to the corner of your mouth. “We'll talk about it all and I will tell you everything, I promise. Just.. not tonight, okay?”

He wanted to stay in that little bubble you had created a little longer and ignore everything else but the feeling of having you back in his arms, being able to kiss and hug and touch you again, he just wanted to revel in your presence and your love. Everything else could wait; the guilt, the talking it out, the pain and especially all the bad stuff he had held back.

You pulled him closer by the collar of his jacket until there was no room left between you. For a second you fought with yourself, your eyes darting back and forth between his like you were looking for something in his gaze before you acted on what you wanted to do. Then-

“I love you.”

Before he could say, think or do anything else, Spencer dove down and pressed his lips against yours, smiling widely into the kiss. His heart was racing and he felt like a huge burden had fallen from his shoulders that he didn't even know he had been carrying. When he pulled back he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “I love you.”

He couldn't hold back his own soft laugh when he heard you giggle happily before you said: “I can't believe you still want me...”

“It's you. It's always been you and it always will be you.”

[ln444]

truly madly deeply

cw: fluff, very slight angst, comfort (reader comforting lando), you and lando are fucking in love:'(((

now playing: truly madly deeply by 1d

notes: i love requests inspired by songs pls request more of it🥺 wrote this in 30 minutes at 3am so its a bit short sry:(

requested by anon

______________________________________________

these past few weeks have been incredibly tough on lando, both mentally and physically. you've undoubtedly noticed and have been doing your best to support him while giving him the space he needs. lando may struggle to express his feelings in words, but he's been showing his gratitude in other ways – with small gestures and plenty of physical affection. you've been following his f1 journey closely, never missing a grand prix, and making sure you're by his side through it all. lando has never felt more loved and supported. his favorite moments are those when he can finally rest and spend time with you after a grueling race.

qualifying is tomorrow, and lando seems even more nervous than usual. you know him inside out, recognizing his little habits when he's stressed; without him saying a word, you understand the thoughts racing through his mind. the night has fallen, heightening lando's anxiety as the race draws near. he's been more affectionate than usual today, seeking comfort in your hugs and asking for extra kisses. while you love this closeness, it also concerns you. you're well aware of how hard lando can be on himself, and the thought of what he might be going through tugs at your heart.

you join him on the bed, facing him, the stars casting a soft glow on his tired face, making his eyes sparkle even more when they meet yours. "hey, pretty boy," you whisper gently, your hand tenderly cupping his cheek and stroking it. butterflies flutter in his stomach, and his body relaxes a bit. "hey, love" he whispers back, planting a sweet kiss on the palm of your hand, eliciting a smile from you.

"how are you feeling?" you ask softly, your fingers gently playing with his curls – something you know he adores. with a sigh, lando closes his eyes for a moment before locking onto yours again. he finds immense comfort in your gaze, with the rest of the world fading away each time he gets lost in your eyes.

"i don't know... i'm not feeling great about tomorrow," he admits with a hint of worry in his voice. your heart aches just hearing his concerns. you move closer, your gaze softening, and lando's heartbeat quickens. how can you have such a profound effect on him with just your eyes? it drives him crazy.

"why, baby? you don't have to worry. you're lando norris, after all!" you playfully roll your eyes, and a smile tugs at lando's lips. he takes your hand and interlaces his fingers with yours, and you reciprocate with a warm smile.

"no, but seriously, what's bothering you?" you softly toy with his fingers while giving him your full attention.

"i mean, it's more of a mclaren problem than a 'me' problem," he hesitates for a moment, and you gently caress the back of his hand, encouraging him to open up.

"i don't think i belong there anymore. i don't think i can show my true potential with them." his voice is calmer now, and a sense of relief is evident.

you hum softly, and he finds the courage to continue, still focused on your hands playing together. "should i quit? but what if no one else wants me?" panic creeps into his voice, and you immediately grip his hand firmly, bringing your free hand to his cheek.

"hey, you're one of the best drivers out there. there'll always be a team that wants you. believe me, there'll always be a place for you in f1. you've worked so hard to get here, and you truly deserve it," you reassure lando. he gets lost in your eyes, feeling the depth of your love and honesty. his heart feels like it could burst at any moment.

"but i want to be the best," he pouts, and you chuckle softly, giving him a quick peck on the lips, making him smile. "you're already the best for me," you say with a gentle smile, causing lando's heart and cheeks to warm. he groans playfully, slightly embarrassed by his blushing cheeks, and your smile widens. "you're so cute; i don't think my heart can take it," you playfully whimper, cupping his face and squeezing his cheeks. lando bites his lip to suppress a smile, and the sparks in his eyes intensify. you place multiple kisses on his lips, and lando can't help but chuckle. he puts his hands on yours to pause the kisses and says, "just give me a real kiss already, please," another pout forming on his lips. your smile grows bigger, and you oblige, giving him a gentle kiss.

lando pulls back to look at you, and the warm smile on his face melts your heart. "thank you," he says softly, caressing your hands. you don't really know why he's thanking you to be honest; for the kiss or for the honest words. "you don't have to thank me," you say, placing a quick peck on his lips. "i'll always be here for you, no matter what," another peck, "and i'll always be proud of you," another one, "no matter what, my pretty boy."

lando's heart has never felt this warm. in fact, his entire body feels warm right now, overwhelmed by the love he's receiving. "god, what did i do to deserve you?" he asks with a sweet and calm voice, clearly feeling better. "i'm truly, madly, deeply in love with you."

"i know you did not just quote a one direction song," you both laugh, and lando groans, hiding his face behind your hands, feeling a bit embarrassed. "it's cute," you move your hands to look at him. "i'm truly, madly, deeply in love with you too," you say with a hint of teasing in your voice, but you absolutely mean it. a big smile forms on lando's face, and you run your hands through his hair to pull him into a tender kiss.

lando's heart feels lighter, your sweet words and touch washing away all the negative thoughts for the night. if you have to repeat every single word you said to him tomorrow and the day after – every day, you will do it, again and again. lando knows it, and he has never felt so thankful.

______________________________________________

masterlist

[goosita]

trying to work when you're sick as young!politician!snow's secretary would be hard, but not for the reason you might think

you've been sniffling since yesterday afternoon, but this morning when you woke up, you felt like you'd been hit by a train. every muscle in your body was sore, your throat hurt, your nose was running and you could tell you had at least a lowgrade fever. you glanced at your alarm clock next to your bed and groaned, seeing that you'd woken up just a little while before it was set to go off anyway.

you thought about calling in sick, but you've never done it before. were you supposed to call....coriolanus? directly? he was your only boss, you worked solely for him. but that thought made you feel even worse than your illness did. you knew that he had a busy day today full of meetings and work calls, and that you needed to be there to help organize his schedule. you couldn't stand the thought of disappointing him.

you sucked it up and took the hottest shower you could stand in efforts to clear your sinuses and stop the fever-induced chills wracking your body every few minutes. you knew coriolanus liked for you to look put-together in pretty dresses and heels, but today you just couldn't bring yourself to do it. you dressed in a loose blouse and pair of wide-leg trousers that felt comfortable enough, shoving your feet into flat shoes. good enough.

so now here you are, bundled in your sweater you keep at the office and trying hard to manifest that nobody will notice your red and raw nose or your watery eyes, least of all coriolanus. the wish goes ungranted, prayer unanswered as he strolls in and immediately stops and stares at you.

"what's wrong?" he asks.

"oh, um. just a little cold," you answer, voice nasally and much lower in pitch than normal. coriolanus frowns at you and shrugs his coat off, hanging it up and walking straight over to you to press the back of his hand to your forehead.

"you're burning up."

his lips turn down even further, not noticing the way you freeze at his sudden touch. coriolanus has been a lot more...touchy with you lately, but even still, this amount of concern is unexpected. his brows furrow at you, looking at you for a long moment. he carefully brushes your hair out of your face, looking over you and taking note of your outfit and general state. you can tell he notices that you've dressed much more comfortably than you usually would, and that your face is makeup-free and hair left at simply brushed through to undo any tangles.

"up," he tells you, gently lifting you out of your chair by your elbow.

"what?"

"let's get you home," he says gently, rubbing a warm and heavy hand up and down your back. "you're in no shape to be here today. i'll have my driver take you back to your apartment."

you look at him confused, unsure what to say. you're not sure if he's upset that you're sick or if he's more worried for your wellbeing, but it makes you anxious that he's acting so abrupt and unceremonious, almost as if you being sick is putting him on edge.

"coryo...?" you ask quietly. he freezes where he stands, having gone to grab your jacket off the coatrack. you watch as his entire demeanor softens.

"yes, miss y/n?"

you swallow hard, wincing at the pain it causes in your throat. "are...are you upset with me?"

coriolanus' eyebrows draw inward and upward at your question, quickly shaking his head.

"oh, no. no, of course not," he breathes, rushing over to help you slide into your coat. "i'm worried about you is all. i don't want you making yourself sicker by being here today, you're clearly very unwell. it's not your fault you're ill."

he carefully zips up your coat, grabbing his red scarf from the rack as well. before you can protest, he's draping it around your neck and tying it.

"for extra warmth," he explains. "it's freezing out there today."

the scarf is so soft where it's tucked beneath your chin, instantly adding more warmth where you need it. coriolanus gives you a tiny smile, lips closed but small dimple appearing at the corner of his mouth.

you're led to the car by him, his hand resting between your shoulder blades the entire time. coriolanus opens the car door for you to slide into the back seat, instructing his driver to take you home and make sure you get into your apartment safe and sound. his voice holds so much authority when he speaks to the driver, a deepness and sternness that's never present when he's addressing you.

by the time you reach your apartment and climb the steps up, there are several beautifully packaged boxes waiting for you at your door, as well as a single red, long-stemmed rose. you tilt your head and bring them inside, opening them one by one to find that coriolanus has had soup, bread, and medicine delivered to you. attached to the rose by a red satin ribbon is a note that simply reads:

"get well soon, darling"

[justwinginglife]

Can I please request Soshiro using Weapon 10 for the first time in front of his secret girlfriend (that is also in the Defense Force) and the kaiju read his thought and announces the secret to everyone to hear?

Wingman

Soshiro was stuck in place. Like actually, physically rooted to the ground.

He had been ready for a fight, ready to use his secret weapon, ready to clean up the battlefield in a few minutes flat and be home at a decent enough time to cook you dinner.

But 10 was not having it.

The second that Soshiro had synced with him, all his little secrets went flooding into 10's consciousness. Including the one where he was dating you, which was a secret to the entire Defense Force, and the one where he wanted to propose to you, which was a secret to you.

Soshiro had desperately wanted to show off in front of you, show you what he was capable of in this suit, show you just how much he could protect you, but 10 didn't give a flying fuck what Soshiro wanted.

10 wanted to tell everyone that you belonged to Soshiro. 10 wanted Soshiro to propose to you now, in the middle of a battlefield. And the fact that Soshiro kept the engagement ring on him always in case he found the perfect moment to propose did not help the matter. 10 did not care about the perfect moment, 10 was all about the now.

And it didn't help that when Soshiro had first put on the suit, you had complimented how attractive he looked. 10 took full credit for that compliment and he immediately began liking you. If he could not do this one thing for you, if he could not get Soshiro to steel his nerves and ask you the damn question already, he would have failed you. He would have no honor as a Kaiju.

So there you were, in the middle of a fight, guns blazing, organs flying, and suddenly you noticed Soshiro dropping to his knees, planting them firmly on the bloodied ground. You run over to him, concerned that he might have injured himself.

"Sosh- Vice Captain! Are you... are you okay??"

His face is pained and he's gritting his teeth but you can't find a single injury on him.

"What's wrong, what's going on?"

His head snaps up to you, the movement sudden and seemingly against his will. He bites his lip so much it bleeds and you take a sleeve and start to dab at it worriedly.

"This... this is not... how I wanted... to do this." The words come out strained as his trembling arm reaches for his pocket. He yanks his arm back with his other hand but it's to no avail.

"Do what?" You're starting to get more anxious, wondering why your boyfriend is acting so strange, especially in the most dangerous of places.

You shoot another kaiju away from him as he pulls something out of his pocket.

"I... fuck... fuck, fine. I know, I know, shut up, I'm getting to it. Baby, I love you. This is absolutely not how I wanted to do this, I wanted to be significantly more romantic, but this fuckhead won't let me leave this spot until I do this. So please, love of my life, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me? Feel free to say no so that I can propose again in a better place at a better time."

Your eyes widen as he flicks open a ring box and gazes up at you, waiting for your answer.

Then you start laughing. "I think this was the most perfect proposal ever, I'll definitely never forget it now."

He blushes but he lets you continue.

"Yes, baby, I will marry you. There's no doubt about that, there was never any doubt about that. I'll marry the hell out of you. Now please, 10, will you let my fiancee up so I can kiss him?"

You shoot another kaiju out of the way as 10 allows Soshiro to pull himself to his feet.

Finally in control of his own limbs, he pulls you to him, sliding the ring on your finger before devouring your lips in a passionate kiss.

All at once, your comms start to blow up with the voices of your fellow officers ringing loudly in your ears; the thing you hear the most is, "WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED? DID YALL JUST GET ENGAGED IN THE MIDDLE OF A FUCKING BATTLE?"

Soshiro face palms.

"I'm gonna kill 10."

[stunie]

“SHH…. KEEP IT QUIET.”

╰ ❤︎ ft. gen narumi (kaiju no. 8) x cat hybrid! f!reader. 4.2K WC ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⭑

summary ᯓ⭑ : narumi’s back to streaming one of his games.. again?! well.. he’s gotta get that follower count up somehow, so today he’s got his dick inside his newest pet- but remember. it’s just cock warming, ok? nothing more. dumb cat .. listen here. make this look, in his words, ‘not so suspicious,’ and he just might give u a reward later if u can do a half decent job.

contains : explicit smut (18+), cat hybrid! reader, brat taming, cock warming, creampies, cum play, degradation, dirty talk, dumbification, hate sex? kind of, heavy overstimulation, mild exhibitionism & dacryphilia (barely), fingering, oral sex (cunninglingus), orgasm control?, pet play n pet names, squirting, teasing, unprotected sex, not proofread >_<

note : aaand the first fic on this blog is up !!! am seriously hoping u all have fun reading this one <3 i had such a blast writing it ^^

“Better start quieting down,” Narumi warns, grunting as he adjusts his position on his gaming chair before his fingers are rapidly clicking at his mouse. “Stream’s about to start in about… thirty seconds or so.”

You don’t have to look in his direction for him to sense the clear disdain in the glare you’ve got plastered across your face. He feels you bury your nose into the muscles of his shoulder as you try and steady your breathing, arms wrapped loosely around his neck in a weak attempt at staying hidden from his viewers- try and make it look like you weren’t just gushing all over Narumi’s face a minute or two ago.

It all happened too fast.

You hadn’t even recovered from the orgasm he ripped out of you five minutes ago when he had you flat on your stomach to spread you open with his fingers before burying his face inside your cunt, lapping, sucking, then fucking his tongue in and out of you. And actually… you don’t even recall him wiping the juices from his chin before shoving you on his lap. For all you know, your slick could still be all over his face right now in front of thousands to see.

Had he given you time to catch your breath, you wouldn’t be here playing this little game right now.

“I'm not even ready, you asshat,” you hiss under your breath, whisper coming out unsteady with the way his fat cock forces your walls to stretch in order to accommodate his thickness, walls still fluttering from the effects of your last high. Only now, you're clenching around his dick instead of his tongue. You think you heard Narumi scoff at this, but he's greeting his watchers only a second later.

With the way his arms are coming up to wave to them, followed by a dramatic slam of his hands onto his desk at a particularly provoking comment (most likely from hoshina), it doesn't take you very long to start squirming in his lap. Each movement Narumi makes has his fat tip prodding at your gummy walls, and it's becoming increasingly harder to stay quiet like this..

You'd never admit it, but he's big. On any other day, you think you'd be more willing to agree to be his little pet cocksleeve; keep his dick nice and warm for him while he tries to rank up in this game. But today is different. He's got you needy, got you gushing over his tongue, and it leaves you feeling greedy for something thicker.

Your pointed ears perk up at the abrupt sound of his mouse clicking around, your tail eagerly swishing side to side as you imagine the types of comments flooding his inbox at the sight of you. Do they think you're cute? It's not obvious that you're all soaked and needy, is it?

If only Narumi let you turn around and see for yourself.

You wouldn't ask him, of course. Not a chance. Stay planted on his dick, stay quiet, and if no one suspects you, it was your win. And your reward? Two free orgasms from Narumi. However way you want- he might add.

“Oh geez,” Narumi's sigh pulls you out of your thoughts. “Already asking about her?”

“She's napping. Yeah— so let's talk about me,” He babbles into his mic, and his free hand starts to roam around the swell of your ass. “You all should head to your instagram before we get started. Let everyone know she's sound asleep on my shoulder right now. That's just how safe she feels around me.”

You think it's a good thing he decided to have you face his direction rather than the screen, because you didn't want to have to listen to the earful he'd give you if the viewers had caught you rolling your eyes at him for the umpteenth time that day. Regardless, the slick pooling underneath you was getting more and more uncomfortable with each passing second, and you're becoming keenly aware of the sheer amount that's dripped down your thighs, now collecting and smearing across his lap.

And you don't really like feeling wet.

A small shift in position is all you do. You're quiet and slow when you raise your hips a bit, just barely hovering above his thighs in your attempt to get rid of the slick that's making his thighs lewdly stick to yours, but he catches the shift in weight in an instant.

“Ah— stirring already, cat? This chair's supposed to be comfy, y'know,” He drawls, not sparing you a glance when you flinch at the words, still clicking away at his game all too casually. So casually that you don't even react when his hand wraps around your tail, not until he roughly yanks you back down in one hard motion.

You're crashing back onto his lap, thickness sheathing itself fully inside you as your mouth falls open in a silent scream, tongue lolling out at the fullness. You think it's absolutely appalling just how easily he's able to mask his reaction by simply adjusting himself on his chair, taking advantage of the movement by giving you a warning thrust into your cunt before he's still again. “No, what?” He snaps, ignoring the way you're practically panting into his ear with need now. “She's definitely comfortable. Very happy to be here, actually.”

“I’m not lying. She loves me.”

You hate that it's not exactly an understatement. The word “loves” has your mind flashing to the events of last night, more specifically- the image of you crying and trembling underneath him, fistful of his hair tight in your hands as you desperately cling onto him, babbling “I love you” over and over as he mercilessly bullied his cock into you.

It's even worse because you know he absolutely loved every second of it. Every second that you're not acting like such a fucking brat, which- to his dismay, wasn't very many.

Narumi's eyes shift towards the side of his screen, scanning through the newest comments that have popped up in his inbox.

Enchantedknight46: u sure ur not forcing her to keep u company Imao ?

tooezusuck: it's ok if u are

12steelwing: Did u bring here on here be u lost more followers last stream? Need eye candy to gain some?

Batmansballs: I think she's pretty so idrc, but what's that? A cat costume?

His eyes twitch. A part of him is wholeheartedly thankful you've got your head buried in the crook of his neck, glad you're not reading these comments. God, he's irritated just imagining how these fuckers would get in your head so easily, get you swinging your tail all happy and purr something along the lines of “Aww, they think I’m cute? Better make me feel good if you want me to stay here with you. They kinda look like they'd take good care of me, huh Gen?”

He sighs before he's clicking his tongue, raising his other hand to roughly jut an accusatory finger at the screen. “Can't just watch my game, huh? Listen up. When I wake her up and she says I'm right, you all better start typing your apologies” He grits through a forced smile, ripping his headset off before it's being tossed haphazardly onto his desk.

You hiss when he's tugging you by your ear, tilting to whisper a “hear that?” and the sound of his voice sends an electrifying shiver straight down your spine. “They wanna see you. But don't go forgetting our deal already. Just one person notices and it's a loss for you.”

“Don't forget.”

It's not like Narumi's worried about losing or anything. Just one quick glance at your face and he can tell you're going crazy with need, frustrated tears collecting along your lashes, and your lips are all swollen and pouty. Most likely from... biting them to stay quiet? A very interesting observation.

He'd make sure to tease you about that later.

“I hate you sometimes.” Your whisper comes out strained, followed by a whimper that slips out when his cock involuntarily twitches inside you. Oh, that's right. He actually likes when you get mad at him- that fucker.

You're inhaling sharply, gathering yourself to the best of your ability before you finally pull yourself off of him, heavy cock slapping against his stomach as you turn, feet planted on his thighs when you reach to grab his headset. Narumi's eyes are trailing down your frame the next second, and if those viewers weren't here right now, he could probably fuck you just like this. Have your hands grip the table, move your feet a bit so that you're balancing on the edge of the seat, squatting just above him and letting him fuck his dick up into you just like that..

“Hello? Can you guys hear me?” You blurt out, voice sugar sweet and innocent, and he almost wants to gag at the implication. You were absolutely anything but. “Ah— so you can! That's good.”

There's a moment of silence as you cutely adjust the headset, glossed lips tugging into a pout with the way it doesn't sit right against your ears. Narumi's leaning back behind you, elbow on the armrest as he rests his head against his palm. He looks bored even.

“Hmmm,” you hum, eyes scanning over the comments... and yeah, they love you. Your pretty lips tug into a knowing smile after scanning comment after comment as they all begin to flood in, all of them saying the exact same thing. But how could they not? You were just a sweet little kitten, fluffy and innocent, and you emphasize this with a slow and alluring sway of your tail, eyes half lidded and completely seductive as you lean in towards the cam.

“Mhm, I guess I love him....” You shrug, feigning disappointment, “But hey. You guys love me way more, right? I can totally tell.”

You feel Narumi perk up from behind you in disbelief, head lifting from where's he had it resting it on his hand. A slow blink. Then two.

Did you just fucking say ‘I guess?’

“Mhm!” You nod at a comment, and he feels his veins bulge against the skin of his neck. “Deal. So why don't you all leave him and come watch me play instead? My user is st-agh!”

The rest of your words come out muffled against the palm he's clamped over your mouth. You recognize it as the same one that was rubbing at your cunt just a few minutes ago, and you can tell because you can taste yourself on him.

“Mmph!” You retort, gasping when he's roughly pulling you back into his lap, chair scooting forward as he grabs his mouse. “Streams over,” his voice comes out a pitch lower, “Said she loves me. Start typing up the apologies.”

He's leaning to switch off the stream the next second, and it falls eerily silent as soon as the in-game lobby music abruptly shuts off. You fiddle with your tail, chuckling nervously as you crane your neck to get a glimpse of Narumi... and you really shouldn't have.

He looks mad.

Before you can even get a word out, Narumi's tossing you onto his bed, and you yelp as soon as your back hits the mattress. He doesn't give you a second to even gasp, his hands looping around your ankles and pulling you back towards the edge of the bed until his cock is flush against your drooling cunt. “Huh. You're a real fucking naughty kitten, know that? Anyone ever told you what a piece of work you are?”

He hates that you're getting off to this. If you weren't on your back, your tail would be eagerly whishing back and forth, ears peeking up with anticipation from the change in tone. He'll admit that he likes when you're mad, but you're not much different from him. It's obvious with the way you keep glancing down at his cock, and he thinks you might as well just stare at it with little pink hearts in your eyes.

“Just you,” you shake your head, “Everyone else says I’m an angel, Gen. Your viewers too, apparently.”

There's a warning thrust to your cunt, your eyes widening when his tip catches against your clit just perfectly, and the sound the action makes is nothing but filthy — wet and sloppy. Narumi's hands slam down beside your head, looming over you as your walls clench around nothing. “Yeah? Wanna talk about my viewers?”

“Take a look at the screen behind me. It's got my exact follower count.”

You crane your head to peer over his shoulder. “And?” His lips tug into a grin. “We're changing the game a bit.”

“Not fair, Gen,” you pout, eyes furrowed as your tail comes to rub the softness against his bicep. “I won, so you gotta make me cum twice now.”

“Yeah yeah, well the count's at 18,567 now. Get on your knees before I forget.”

Narumi's easily hoisting you up before you can move yourself, rudely flipping you over and letting your hands scramble to catch yourself, face falling flat against the mattress. But it's fine, he thinks, because cats always land on their feet, or whatever.

“It's at 18,566 now by the way, thanks to you.”

“They would've left either way!” You protest, eyes clenching shut in pain when he grabs a fistful of your tail. “And i don't care about your follower count.”

“You should. Each loss is gonna be plus one for you.”

“Huh?”

He sighs. “18,565... so that would make four orgasms now. Two plus two, my dumb kitty. It's not very hard.”

The realization suddenly hits you, and you crane your neck to look at him. “That's not fair! And that's way too much, I'd never agree to tha-”

One sharp tug to your tail has you biting your words.

“Way too much?” He asks incredulously, kneeling at the foot of his bed, “Didn't think the ungrateful cat would ever be satisfied.”

You flinch as soon as you feel his breath fanning against your cunt, and he notices. You look absolutely delicious like this, pussy pretty and swollen- and completely drenched for him. His fingers are spreading your folds, content with the way your tail starts to sway like clockwork. “But,” you whine, “You lose so many followers. I'll be here forever.”

His eyebrow twitches at the implication.

“That's your fault— you have yourself to blame,” Narumi pushes a finger inside your hole, the digit curling against your walls as you cry out. It takes him a little less time to find your spot each time you're under him. By now... he's got it memorized. Could probably find it in his sleep, he thinks, you're so easy. He'd be able to find it blindfolded too, but it'd be such a breeze that it's not even worth buying a blindfold to find out. “You take a bunch of my followers,” he continues, “And I use up one of those nine lives of yours. Yeah? So sit still.”

“You're the worst.” You pout, face contorting as soon as he slips in a second finger, curling skillfully against your sensitive spot, and oh- you feel his lips ghost just over your clit.

“Yeah yeah— about time I start hearing less talking and more meowing,” he grunts into your cunt, and he's lapping at your slick the next second, tongue roughly flicking over the pearl with precision, and his fingers aren't letting up, still beating your insides as you start to feel the familiar feeling build up deep in your belly.

“A-ah!” You cry out, hands grasping at the sheets as your tail whips upward, back arching deeply to relieve some of the stimulation. It's a lewd position you've got yourself in, and he loves it.

This was the best part.

Narumi can feel his cock ache when he feels your walls hungrily clench around his fingers, your desperate mewls muffled against the soft sheets of the mattress as he laps at your cunt. He loves watching you approach your high, loves the way the brat gets fucked out of you only after he gets you creaming, even if it's just for a bit.

And he's so sloppy with you. He's licking up and down, sucking at your clit before pulling back and lewdly spitting on it, his fingers making your pussy squelch and squirt as he fucks them in and out of you, and oh-if only you could see the way your slick has begun dripping down his wrists. “There you go,” he groans straight into your cunt, and it makes you jolt, “Hurry. I'm aching and it's annoying.”

“F-fuck…” you try to retort with something, anything, but the words get stuck in your throat. You can't. Not with the way your thighs have begun trembling, pretty eyes hazy and lidded as you feel the tight knot balling up in your stomach.

Again? And so soon? This would be the second time you've come undone on his mouth just today, and a part of you wonders what the count is at now— and exactly how you're gonna be able to handle it.

“...Ah! gonna c-cum,” your eyes clench shut, pointed ears twitching, and he's shoving a third finger inside a moment after, reaching deep inside you as his tongue keeps his pace against your swollen little clit. “Gen!”

Narumi's free hand loops around your thigh, pulling you flush against his face, his tongue roughly flicking your clit the same time he curls his fingers particularly hard, and that's all it takes to have you screaming, tail slapping across his face as you gush, the knot snapping inside you with an intensity that has your vision blurring with white.

“Fuckin' whacked my eye, you damned cat,” he growls, fingers slowing his movements as your walls spasm and flutter against him before he takes them out, thick string of slick connecting the two. His tongue is coming to push inside instead, and you cry out loudly when you feel him pushing deeper, appendage curling and reaching deep inside your pussy as he hungrily laps at your juices.

Even when your jaw falls slack, body going limp and falling flat onto the plush bed, he doesn't stop. He keeps you flush against his tongue, forcing you to let him have his fill until you've been reduced to nothing but a sloppy little mess, whining and shaking under his touch.

“E-enough…” You slur, chest heaving up and down in heavy pants as you come down from your high, vision now dotted with blurry little stars.

“Geez,” Narumi huffs, rising back to his feet as he swipes his thumb over his mouth, wiping your juices off before he's popping the digit in his mouth and sucking.“Your stamina sucks.”

“It's at 18,563 by the way, so get up. We're nowhere near finished. Consider this your training.”

You can't respond, and you can't move your legs. The way you struggle to get back on your knees has his ego stroked nice and good, but he's on quite the time crunch. Narumi’s reaching for your tail next, yanking your hips back up for him as you yelp in pain. “All talk, huh? Where's your usual spunk?”

He's roughly pulling you backwards, one quick yank of your tail to fully sheathe himself inside you, and your eyes roll back at the stretch. “Gonna put your nine lives to the test, so you'd better prepare yourself. We're already at 18,561 now and it's all your fault.”

The noises he's pulling from you are just obscene, and the grip he has on your tail is nothing but mean, pulling you back to meet his hips halfway as he pounds into you roughly, foot coming to rest on the edge of the mattress to better leverage himself. “You in heat or something? You're soaked. The bratty cat likes this, huh? Falling in love with me?”

“F-fuck no!” You cry into the mattress, hands scrambling to grasp at the sheets to ground yourself.

“S-said you're just alright— Gen...!”

He's looming over your form the next second, hand pushing your face down into the sheets, your thighs trembling wildly as you whine beneath him. You're way beyond your limit, legs using every ounce of strength left to keep your ass up for him. “Alright?” He spits,“Don't get too carried away— s-shit, don't go forgetting what you are now. My cat, you're my pet. And I’m your owner,” his hips stutter a bit, balls slapping against your clit as you mewl, eyes rolling back in your skull.

You can't even retort if you wanted to. Your back is arching all on its own to take him deeper inside, and he's not letting you move, hand pushing hard against your head to keep you still for him. “Ah, Gen, Gen-”

“That's it. Got you right where I want you, fuckin' pet. Boutta make a mess for me again? Say you love me when you do. Fuck, do that again— you know what.”

You think you might be bleeding from how hard you're gripping the sheets, the painful knot building up in your stomach all over again as you approach your high a little too fast for comfort. “C-close again..!”

“Hurry, lemme hear you. You know what I want.” His fingers come to rub at your swollen clit, and his cock pummels against a spot that has you abruptly crying out as you're thrown headfirst into your third orgasm, hot white flooding your vision as you spasm and squeeze around his cock so tightly. “F-gen! I love you— fuck, love you..!” You gasp when he doesn't slow down, tongue lolling out when you feel your cunt gushing, juices squirting all over his hips as he groans loudly.

“Yeah,” his voice sounds borderline feral, “Good fuckin' kitty. What? Want a treat?” and it's almost pathetic how quick you are to start nodding, eyes cock-drunk and lidded as he chases his own high.

“Well you're not getting one. Check the count yet? It's at 18,560. Know what that adds up to?”

How would you know? Your brain is all fuzzy, vision spotted with splotches of white and the words coming out of your mouth aren't even coherent anymore. The only thing in that mind of yours is how good Narumi feels, how his dick reaches the deepest parts inside you..

Feels so good, god— you love him. No one can do it like him.

“Times up,” he snaps, “That's plus one.”

His voice comes out a little breathless from how close he is, and your walls are tight around his length as your high starts to dissipate- suffocatingly tight. “Gonna give you your milk first, get you nice and full and we're gonna start all over again. How's that sound?”

Your whines are incoherent to him, but it doesn't matter. You're just a cat, anyway.

“F-fuck, stay still and take it,” he rasps, and it only takes him a few more thrusts, a few more until he's groaning loudly, cock spurting thick ropes of cum inside your cunt as you gasp underneath him.

A lot.

You're always in disbelief with the sheer amount, how he always fills you up to the brim, hot spurts shooting against your walls as he groans above you, fingers digging deep into your ass as he holds you still, making sure you're taking in every drop.

“Gen,” you choke, “The count...?”

There's an exasperated sigh from narumi before he's pulling out of you, hand coming to flip you over. The sight of you is really something, tear stained cheeks as you sniffle and hiccup, and oh— you look absolutely ruined, those pretty lips all swollen and pouty and the look you're giving him is to die for.

Your pussy is even worse. His cum has already started to seep out, fat droplets dripping straight onto the tail he knows you're so proud of, the one you're always waving so obnoxiously in his face. Now stained with his cum— as it should be. You're his pet, after all.

“Gonna take out the suit,” he says, “Let’s speed this up.”