#he’s overthink everything to hell and back though

[kingofanemptyworld]

midoriya almost got isekai’d out of his own story holy shit

[vrystalius]

Not saying “I love you“ back to the Squid game men.

How will they react if you don‘t say it back? In what scenario would they not say it back to you?

Pairing: The Recruiter, Thanos, Nam-gyu, Dae-ho, Gi-hun, In-ho x gn!reader

Summary: Them not saying “I love you“, their reaction to you not saying “I love you“

Genre: fluff, a lil bit of angst sprinkled on top

If you’re interested, here’s more fluff! Calling the Squid Game men some weird petnames and their reaction to it!

(Pre-Squid game)

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

Gong Yoo // The Recruiter // The Salesman

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It barely ever happens, really. He adores everything about you, from your face, voice, body and the ground you walk on; that man is ready to worship you like a devoted follower would to the most merciful goddess. Therefor he would always be aware of how to make your day a little better, even if it‘s just a small “I love you” or a gentle kiss here and there.

The first thing you hear from him in the morning is a groggy voice mumbling a small “Good morning love...” into your ear while warm kisses were trailed down your back.

While standing in the kitchen and searching the fridge for any signs of a tasty breakfast, a small “I love you, I‘ll be back later!“ would echo slightly through the apartment as the front door closed.

Once, he did forget to say his usual I love you on the way out. He thought about how he possibly could forget? You‘re probably overthinking everything now and think what you might‘ve done wrong or do to offend him. You didn‘t, though! He was just too caught up in perfecting his appearance because his damn hair refused to obey and submit to his meticulous styling.

The poor man was almost scared to come home. As some sort of peace offering, he bought some of your favorite take-out food alongside some dessert, flowers and a new bracelet he thought you might like. Anything to try and make you know that he does really love you.

“Apologies, it completely slipped my mind. It will never happen again my sunshine. I love you.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

His face may be neutral and his expressions calculated but his features soften up immensely when you show even an ounce of affection. His smirk shifts into a dreamy smile, the crinkles around his mouth shifting and becoming bigger, his eyes twinkling just a little. He just can’t suppress when you even look at him.

Your kisses and words energise him, gift him life, so whenever you don’t give him that little boost of dopamine, he gets visibly more tense in a way.

The silence that followed after his usual “I love you my darling, I’ll be back later!” was almost eerie to him. He stuck his head back into the kitchen to check if you even heard him. You glanced back at him for a moment and gave your husband a dismissive head nod. So you did hear him?

Silently, he left the apartment and went on with his usual day during that time of the year. For some reason, today he is especially looking forward to slap his elders for loosing a damn children’s game. His face remained neutral and had his usual smirk on his face, but deep inside, he’s offended, confused, worried, stressed; all the negative emotions someone can feel after their spouse doesn’t reincorporate ones affection.

Do you want a divorce? Because hell no, he’d never let you go no matter how hard you

But once he got a little text message on his phone that read a simple: “Need cuddles in bed later pls. Got some snacks too. Love you.”, all of his worries washed away in an instant. You probably were still too sleepy to answer this morning.

A smile spread over his face as he thought about slipping into your arms tonight. Isn’t it ridiculous how he melt like putty in your hands?

“You forgot something this morning and it did worry me a lot. But it doesn’t matter, it’s silly anyway.”

Thanos // Su-bong // Player 230

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It’s actually quite rare to hear Thanos say “I love you” word for word. He still feels awkward committing himself to the relationship you have and those three magic words feel so heavy on his tongue, so he’ll rephrase them to suit his level of comfort. “Love ya”, “Thanos loves you” and “Me too” are his ways to dodge the action to reincorporate those sweets words you shower him with.

Thanos only really says “I love you” if you two are alone, sober and you holding him in your arms. To be cradled by someone he admires, cares and loves so much makes him want to cry for some reason, but he suppresses those emotions and instead buries his face in your shoulder as your hand soothingly runs up and down his back.

Those are the times you hear a small “I love you…” being mumbled against your warm skin.

So quiet it’s almost unnoticeable, yet it was there. You know Su-bong needs time to get used to everything, so you’ll settle with a small audio message-rap in reply to your usual “I love you” text message.

“Back to the kitty ‘cause she kinda pretty, I can’t stop looking at her ti- ti- ti-face.. Anyways, thinking of you babygirl. Iloveyatoo.” (You barely caught him saying this the way how quietly he mumbled it into the mic)

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

It’s fine. It’s cool. You don’t have to reassure him every day that you love him, it’s totally fine. You still love him like you did the day before.

It causes a deep panic inside of Thanos when you don’t give him his usual “I love you” text in the morning after he had woken up. He kept checking his phone like a madman, while he was brushing his teeth, peeking his arm and head out of the shower in the middle of shampooing, staring at his text messages while microwaving himself an convenience store meal. Nothing.

Not wanting to reach out first and appear clingy, he decided to write you like he is not having a full blown eternal panic attack. A small voice message here, a picture of his food there, a selfie from the bottom to show off his double chin, anything really.

You replied like normal but still, his eyes searched for the three key words. I. Love. You.

Thanos doesn’t want to admit to himself or to anyone for that matter that your calls, texts, hell, you coming over is like the most addictive drug to him. And he had his share of all kinds of colourful drugs.

His foot was nervously tapping the ground while his finger kept ringing your poor doorbell until you were forced to answer. He gave you a close look up and down, his lips formed into a pout of sorts.

“You okay? You didn’t text me you love me this morning. It’s totally cool and all but like… do you want to break up with me or something?”

Nam-gyu // Player 124

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Similar to Thanos, at first, Nam-gyu barely ever told you how much he loved you, liked you even. He just assumed you already knew and his actions were enough. A small side hug there and ruffling your hair here had to be enough for the rest of the week anyway.

He is guarded, afraid of commitment and to be frank in belief that you’re using him for the longest of time. Maybe you’re just “dating” him to get access to high-end drugs, all kinds of clubs or whatever else reason there is there to date him but for love.

You had to say those three magic words first for him to get comfortable with the thought that you are actually just want to date and love him. It came to him in the middle of a night shift at a random club he was supposed to promote. A moment of enlightenment.

Nam-gyu hid in a bathroom stall with his phone and ignored whatever the couple was doing next door, writing you a whole paragraph about what he was thinking, feeling, before deleting everything again because he thought he’d come off as some kind of pussy if he’d sent that.

His first time telling you how much he loved you was at your place. A casual evening watching some random movie you picked out while being arms deep in a bag of chips and dressed like a homeless person, Nam-gyu was staring up at you as if you were the most beautiful person in the universe even during this ungraceful moment of yours, admiring you in silence until finally…

“I love you.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

Did he fuck up again? Do or say something wrong? Don’t you love him anymore? Was there someone else?? His thoughts go ballistic as he stared at the screen of his phone with a deadpan-expression, trying to shake the crippling fear and nervousness off while looking nonchalant.

Nam-gyu’s finger kept hovering over the call button to check on you in case something happened because there could be a whole other person talking to him by how there were no affirmations at all.

He doesn’t want to appear clingy or too attached to you as that may scare you off or even disgust you, so Nam-gyu’s casually mention that one time you didn’t say “I love you” while fidgeting with his ring, trying to appear indifferent about it while intensely watching your facial expression shift to try and detect if you’re lying about your reasoning or not.

Your boyfriend is afraid to not be good enough, too much, too little. Your little affirmations give him reassurance, every day a little more until he’s full convinced that you do really, really love him.

“Hey, uhhh. Did you forget anything today?… No? You sure? Mkay.”

Dae-ho // Player 388

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Never happens. Either he is dead and not able to reply to you or already said it multiple times throughout the day. Dae-ho has separation anxiety and gets nervous when he doesn’t have you in line of his sight or not around him in general, that’s why he always tells you how much he loves you whenever he can.

Off to the bathroom? I love you. Bringing the trash out? I love you. Getting dressed? You’re gorgeous and I love you. You could be simply existing and Dae-ho would bury his face in your neck and mumble a soft I love you into your warm skin, his lips planting a soft kiss here and there.

Dae-ho is just a little scared about saying his usual affirmation in front of his family, mostly his father. He’s a very affectionate and physical man but he still wants to look like the tough-marine-son his dad wants to see.

His sisters know better though, they see how their brother’s eyes twinkle in delight when you help his mom out in the kitchen with the dinner.

He does make it up to you after coming home though. Your boyfriend will stuff the leftovers his mom gave him into the microwave and usher to you made yourself comfortable on the couch while he makes some preparations to completely pamper you for the rest of the evening.

Sometimes Dae-ho’ll even try to flirt a little but he’s still a little awkward in that department.

“Hey, do you want some snacks with that? A drink? O-Or am I enough of a snack…?”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you…

Every time Dae-ho tells you that he loves you, you always reply with equal enthusiasm. How could you not? That golden retriever of a man gets that almost childish smile of his whenever you kiss his cheek or just tell him that he looks handsome today.

Once, you tested how he’d react when you don’t give him his hourly dose of dopamine by deflecting or ignoring his touches.

As his arms securely snaked around your waist and gently pulled you against his torso, you paid him no mind and continued to stir the ramen in the food container. He watched the noodles move in circles and gave your waist a gentle poke, trying to pull your attention to him. Dae-ho’s eyes slowly dimmed and the edges of his smile turned downwards.

The silence made him seriously nervous. You could feel his rapidly increasing heartbeat drum against your back.

“Hey… is everything okay? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry. Can you talk to me?…”

Gi-hun // Player 456 (post s1)

♡— Him not saying I love you…

Gi-hun always reassures you of his love, even during arguments. He wants you to know that he cherishes and loves you for the rest of his life and that you are his everything. Whenever he doesn’t say I love you, something must’ve happened.

He has been missing for a whole week and you had no idea where your boyfriend went. Gi-hun didn’t leave a note, a voice mail, no nothing!

And after he returned and suddenly began giving you expensive gifts, the same boyfriend that used to ask you for money to get himself an convenience store dinner, now began buying you new headphones, bracelet and whatever else you even eyed.

It was nice, sure, but you were more worried about his mental state. He was paranoid and quiet, kept checking his whole body for some kind of tracker and barely ever spoke what was on his mind. Gi-hun began having panic attacks and you were barely able to leave his side because of how terrified he was to leave you alone.

He barely touched you, gave you kisses or affection. He changed after whatever happened during that week he went missing.

While running your fingers through his hair, trying to make him fall asleep after being awake for two days straight, he sleepily stared up at you through his dyed-red hair. His voice was quiet, broken almost.

“I’m sorry. Please… know that I love you. I love you so much.. Don’t leave me, please… please...”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

Your boyfriend called out to you but you didn’t quite hear what he said, so you replied with an “yeah!” and just hoped that that’s an appropriate response to whatever he tried to tell or ask you. It wasn’t.

Gi-hun stood there for a couple of moments, waiting on your reply to yelling “I love you!” across the whole apartment. When nothing came, he didn’t call out to you again. You were probably busy with something or don’t want him with your right now, he gets that.

Later though, thoughts of self-doubt began to cook up inside his mind. As he bit all his nails to shreds he overthought about how you had enough of him now. Maybe you are falling out of love now after how the death games fucked up his mind and body. You’re surely fed up with his paranoia and secretive behaviour, how much he has been obsession over finding a weird salesman. Surely.

The metallic taste that spread inside his mouth after biting the skin surrounding his nails began to open and bleed finally pulled Gi-hun out of his self-destructive thoughts that continued to circle like a toy train. Picking up his throwaway phone and choosing the one contact he saved on every single burner phone he had as “Reason to smile ❤️” and pressing the call button.

“Gi-hun? What’s wrong?” Your voice forced a small smile to form on his face. He hesitated

“Hey. Just wanted to ask if I should bring some take out home tonight. That’s all.”

In-ho // The Frontman // Player 001

♡— Him not saying I love you…

It’s purely just to tease you. When bored, In-ho will make you his greatest entertainment.

He likes making you annoyed and flustered, so he’ll intentionally ignore you just to make you react and pout at him adorably while he was trying so hard to keep his stone cold face and not break into a shit-eating grin and maybe even pull on your cheek to make you whine even more.

In-ho adores your whole being and cherishes all of your affections, so he’ll let himself get showered in them any tome he can.

Expect you to he cuddled up on his lap while he was leaning back in the leather chair, mumbling a complaint about how you covered his whole face in kisses but managed to miss the bridge of his nose. He will not allow you to move off his lap until you covered his whole face in kisses again as compensation for that mistake of yours.

So, In-ho’ll intentionally not give you affection so you pay even more attention to him. He is like a cat in that way weirdly enough.

Once you finally break his facade, the flood gates will open and you will be showered, bathed, drowned in his affection, physical and verbal.

“Fine. I’ll say it just because you’ve been so good to me today. I love you, my dearest, lovely darling.”

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳

♡— You not saying I love you back…

In-ho has a dedicated frequency on his walkie-talkie for you, so he can call in and ask you to come to his office for a kiss that cannot wait, to inform you that he is in the bedroom and retiring for the day or just to tell you that he loves you randomly throughout the day.

Of course, you’d always reply back with your own gadget, but to pay back his infinite teasing he has done to you, you decided to ignore him the way he sometimes does to you. Payback.

Your husband called into your frequency. “Dove, are you free right now? Come to my office, I miss you.” and so your game begins. You simply ignored his request and continued getting comfortable in your bed and all the sheets surrounding you, grinning to yourself as you awaited the next time In-ho calls in again, for which you don’t have to wait long for.

“Darling, I am waiting. Do you want me to send someone to pick you up?” Your grin widened as you heard how impatient he was slowly getting with the lack of your response. “I can see you in the bedroom.” That one caught you off guard. Did he install cameras in your shared bedroom??

Almost on cue, your bedroom door opened, revealing the masked Frontman. His shoulders were tense and you could feel his intense state through the mask. You stared back, not expecting how quickly your husband would cave in and visit you himself. Innocently, you batted your lashes at him.

In-ho slipped his mask off and carelessly tossed it on the nightstand. “Why are you ignoring me? Are you upset or just moody?” Unimpressed, you silently glared at him. He gave you an equally uninterested look and leaned down to your face to give you a small peck on your cheek. “Not enough. More.”

A chuckle escaped his lips as his lips cracked into a smile.

“Demanding, aren’t we? Fine. As you wish.”

💠

Author’s note. Thank you for reading <3

Watch me announce that I’m going to post In-ho’s yandere profile and proceed to get hit with the most ungodly group-assignment in Chemistry. Anyways, take this as an apology! Had to write a little fluff for them since the only thing I’m finding is smut 🙏😭 I’m not complaining but this fluff prompt came to me like a truck during a class of mine. It was originally inspired by this post and I made a similar one before for the Demon Slayer hashira. Check it out if you’re interested!!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <33

[erwinsvow]

random but i can see rafe giving shy!reader like a large amount of “pocket money” and she’ll always wait until she’s fully broke and runs out (if she doesn’t have a job), she’d be so nervous to ask him for more.

at first you're so shy around rafe you can't even find it in you to question what the money is for—you just assume it's some sort of test. you keep the cash in your pretty pink wallet until it's so full it won't fit in your purse.

rafe has no reason to be giving you money—you've got your own, your parents', that is. and suddenly you start to question everything, start overthinking like normal. does rafe think you're reliant on him for money? if so, is he mad at you because of it?

one day when he comes over to your place for once, claiming he wanted to get away from his noisy house to the serenity and peace of your bedroom, you dig out the wallet from under your bed and drop it next to him. he's laying on the mattress, sprawled out playing chess with a robot. the wallet lands with a thud.

like always, you let him speak first.

"what the hell's this?" he asks, lifting the thoroughly packed leather.

"i'm giving it back," you state, trying to remain a little firm. it's so hard around him though.

"jesus, kid," he comments, flicking through the cash. "did y'spend any of it? huh?"

"n-no," you stammer, suddenly nervous. "i kept it safe for you, like you wanted." you look at him with big, confused eyes and he looks back at you in disbelief.

"s'not for that, baby. it's for spending. for nice things, y'know, all the crap you like."

"crap?" you question back.

"stuff. books and records and ice cream when m'not around. y'know, pocket money."

"but i already have that," you reply. "did you think i didn't? did i ask for it?" suddenly confused, you wonder how you gave rafe this implication. "sorry, rafe."

"why are you apologizin'?" you perch yourself next to him.

"i guess because i didn't spend it.."

"well, stop. just use it for somethin' nice. for yourself, not me." he clarifies because he knows you—knows you'll go find him a new polo or golf glove if he didn't tell you otherwise.

and the way he says it—you comply, pressing a kiss to his cheek, mind floating to all the ways you could use it—a new beach read, a new bikini for boat days, ice cream nights with wheezie and a big tip for the nice girls who worked at the parlor.

you were used to spending your dad's money, now you were spending daddy's money. it wasn't that big of a change after all.

and it's really not.. until you run out.

you never had to ask your parents twice for anything, but rafe gives you cash and you don't question why, but now that you're used to getting things from rafe's money, you don't want to revert back. in all honestly, it felt nice when someone asked you where you got something from and you could tell them your favorite words.

"my boyfriend got it for me!"

credit cards are unlimited, but cash runs out. and asking rafe for more seems like the absolute worst thing in the world, especially when you were so hesitant to even start using it.

approaching the door to rafe's bedroom, you pace infront of it for a moment, thinking of the right words to say. ward walks by and smiles at you, though he's confused at what you're doing. panicked, you run in, standing in front of your boyfriend while he's looking at something on his desk. rafe glances up when you walk in.

"hey, kid."

"hi." it even comes out nervous. rafe shuts his laptop at the sound of your voice.

"what is it?" he asks, and you blink back in response.

"what's.. what?"

"y'think i can't tell when you're off? c'mon, start talkin'." you give in immediately.

"well... it's just, um, this cash. your cash. i ran out. and, um, this book i wanted releases out tomorrow. and i told wheezie i'd take her to the movies because that book we both like is a movie now, and it comes out this weekend, and y'know she's a child so-"

"yeah. m'aware."

"sorry," you reply, feeling your cheeks heat up. "sorry." he gets up from the desk, and you wonder if you really messed up by demanding so much.

"what'd i tell ya? stop apologizin'." when he gets close, rafe does what he always does, lifting your chin up so you're looking at him, his fingers resting on your jaw. "what'd you think? i'm gonna say no to you?"

"maybe. i'm being kinda greedy."

"nah, kid. be as greedy as you want." when you smile, he laughs at you, at how nervous you still get, how worried you are that you're doing something wrong. "besides, i got some ideas on how y'can make it up to me."

sounds like a win-win for you.

[moonyswoony]

Lost and found

Pairing: Five hargreeves x reader

Summary: You an Five discover more than just plants and strawberries in the greenhouse

Warning(s): kissing, fluff, nothing really

“What the hell is this place?” Five muttered, his voice tinged with suspicion.

“Beats me,” you replied, stepping further inside. “But it’s not like we’ve stumbled upon a better place than this one so far.”

The two of you had been on the run for what felt like an eternity. Your attempt to figure out the subway had gone sideways—again—and now you were stuck in this strange, green timeline with no clear path back.

Five stayed close as you ventured deeper into the greenhouse, his sharp eyes scanning every inch. “This doesn’t make sense. None of this should be here.”

You brushed your fingers against a nearby vine, feeling the life pulsing through it. “Maybe this is just a small piece of the world that refused to die.”

Five huffed, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “That, or we’ve stumbled into some kind of twisted fairytale.”

“Great. Does that make you the grumpy old troll under the bridge?” you teased.

“If I’m the troll, that makes you the annoying adventurer who won’t stop asking questions,” he shot back, though his tone was more fond than bitter.

As you explored, you found yourself drawn to a patch of strawberries growing along the far wall. They were perfectly ripe, a vibrant red that stood out against the greens and browns around them. Without thinking, you plucked one and popped it into your mouth, savoring the sweetness.

Five watched with raised eyebrows. “You sure that’s safe?”

“If it’s not, at least I’ll go out with a decent meal,” you replied, plucking another and offering it to him.

He hesitated, then took it, biting into the fruit with a thoughtful expression. “Not bad.”

“High praise from you,” you quipped.

There was a brief, comfortable silence as you both absorbed the strange beauty of this place. The tension that had been winding tighter and tighter over the past few days—or even years—slowly began to ease, the peacefulness of this place working its way into your entire being.

As you wandered deeper, you came across a patch of wildflowers bathed in golden sunlight. You knelt to touch them, their delicate petals soft under your fingers. “This feels like a dream,” you murmured.

“Or a trap,” Five countered, though his voice lacked its usual edge.

You looked up at him, catching an unguarded expression in his eyes,something softer, more vulnerable than you were used to seeing. “Five?”

He stepped closer, the sunlight casting a warm glow across his features. “You’ve always been fearless,” he chuckled,though his voice was quieter than usual.

You blinked in surprise. “What are you talking about? I’m not fearless, I’m—”

“You are,” he insisted. “And I should have told you sooner.”

“Five…”

“I’ve spent so much time trying to fix everything, trying to keep us all alive, that I forgot there are things I want, too,” he said, his gaze pined on you.

His words hit you like a punch to the gut as you realised what he was implying—not in a painful way, but in a way that left you breathless. You had always known there was something between you, a connection that went deeper than partnership or friendship, but his words still had that affect on you.

Without giving yourself time to overthink it, you reached up and pulled him into a kiss. It wasn’t rushed or frantic, but slow and deliberate, a promise in every brush of your lips against his. Five responded in kind, one hand slipping around your waist while the other cupped the back of your neck, holding you close.

The kiss deepened, his tongue teasing your lower lip before slipping into your mouth. You felt your knees weaken as a wave of heat washed over you, your fingers gripping the front of his shirt as if to support yourself. His hand slid down your back, pulling you flush against him as the kiss grew more intense, more desperate.

It was a kiss that spoke of everything you had both been holding back,years of unspoken feelings, of missed opportunities, all coming to the surface in this one, perfect moment.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing hard, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath.

“I love you,” he said, his voice rough but certain.

You smiled, your thumb brushing against his jaw. “I love you too.”

For a moment, you both stood there in silence, the reality of what you had just confessed settling over you like a warm blanket. The world around you didn’t feel as interesting anymore, not when he was in front of you.

Five glanced around at the greenery, his expression contemplative. “You know, we don’t have to leave right away.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You want to stay?”

“Just for a little while,” he admitted, surprising you with the softness in his voice. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a moment of peace. We could use the rest and some proper food.”

You looked around at the lush greenery, the golden sunlight filtering through the broken skylight, and felt a sense of calm settle over you. “Yeah,” you agreed, smiling up at him. “Let’s stay.”

With that decision made, the tension that had been a constant companion began to melt away. You found a spot to sit, leaning against a wall covered in ivy, and Five joined you, his hand finding yours and holding it tightly.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself relax. No missions, no timelines, no disasters—just the two of you, in a place that felt almost unreal.

Five squeezed your hand, drawing your attention back to him. “You know,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “if we’re staying here, we might as well make the most of it.”

You grinned, leaning in to kiss him again, this time slower, savoring every second. “I couldn’t agree more.”

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

Nerd gojo x nerd reader headcanons pt 3

_Part 2_

Nerdjo! X nerdreader! Lmao guys I don't know it takes time to think for a scenario for nerd gojo!

♡ Gojo, the hopeless overthinker-After catching you reading a book on quantum mechanics, he stares at you for an entire class.

His mind is in overdrive.

“What does she know that I don’t?”

You glance up from your book and notice him staring.

Your expression doesn’t change, just a slight raise of the brow.

He starts questioning reality. He wonders if maybe you’re an alien who landed to study humans.

He’s not sure if he’s scared or in awe.

♡ Gojo, the performance artist-He’s in class, casually tossing out random knowledge to impress everyone.

You’re sitting right next to him, completely unfazed.

He throws out an elaborate theory about space-time continuums.

You glance at him, and in that cool, calculated tone of yours, you say, “Actually, there’s a counter-theory that suggests…”

He’s frozen stunned.

You just corrected him.

He’s in shock. He didn’t even realize there was a counter-theory.

♡ Gojo, the never-satisfied challenger-It’s become a ritual now. He challenges you to random things just to get a reaction.

One day, he walks into the library where you’re reading again and says, “I bet you can’t solve this one faster than me.”

You just stare at him like he's a child.

He watches you effortlessly solve the puzzle in seconds.

His brain breaks.

“Okay… you win. Again.”

He mumbles it like he’s been defeated, even though you both know he never stood a chance.

You just blink, your face a mask of indifference.

♡ Gojo, the insufferable over-achiever-He throws a math challenge your way in class, but it’s no longer about the challenge.

It’s about getting you to look up at him.

When you solve it in seconds, he pretends to be devastated.

“How… How do you do it?!”

You don’t even flinch. You just mutter, “It’s all about applying basic principles, Gojo.”

He finds it so frustrating but can’t help but admire you for it.

This feeling of being outmatched starts to gnaw at him, but it excites him too.

♡ Gojo, the dumbstruck fool-One day, he just can’t take it anymore. He watches you at lunch, reading your book with so much focus.

He interrupts your concentration with a dramatic gesture, throwing his arms out.

“You can’t possibly be that focused!”

You look up, raise an eyebrow, and say, “Well, Gojo, focusing is a part of my natural process of learning. You should try it sometime.”

His jaw drops.

The fact that you just casually insulted him makes him both irritated and in love at the same time.

♡ Gojo, the unintentional simp-He’s in class, trying to act all cool and aloof, but his eyes are constantly shifting to where you’re sitting.

You never seem to notice.

He can’t stop thinking about how you’re always so calm, always so collected.

One day, he catches himself staring at you for way too long.

His heart skips a beat when you finally look up and catch his gaze.

You don’t say anything. You don’t even smile.

But the look in your eyes… it makes his heart race.

He looks away like a fool, muttering under his breath. “What the hell is happening to me?”

♡ Gojo, the clingy puppy-He shows up to the library one day to find you reading, of course.

He’s spent the last few hours thinking of ways to get your attention.

He plops down next to you.

“Hey, Y/N, what are you reading?”

You glance at him for a second and say, “A book on theoretical physics.”

He stares at you, unblinking. “Sounds boring.”

You stare back, saying nothing, then go back to reading.

He can’t help himself anymore he leans over and practically whispers in your ear,

“I think you’re kinda cool, you know?”

Your response is the most distracting part of his life.

You don’t even look up. “And I think you should stop distracting me.”

♡ Gojo, the underestimator-He once convinced himself that he could outwit you in everything.

So when the next mission is announced, he’s all cocky about it.

“I’ve got this in the bag. No one’s a better strategist than me.”

But when the team assembles to discuss the mission, you outshine him with every point you bring up.

“You didn’t consider the potential outcomes of that tactic, Gojo.”

His face turns bright red. He tries to play it cool, but you’ve already won this round.

He’s still muttering about it later, trying to convince himself that it was just a fluke.

But deep down, he’s starting to see you as more than just his rival.

♡ Gojo, the frustrated genius-He’s notorious for his smug attitude, his self-proclaimed genius status.

But you, Y/N, have officially cracked the code.

He’s secretly obsessed with trying to figure you out.

There’s no logic in his mind to explain why he can’t stop thinking about you.

He finds himself watching you from afar, wondering if he could ever measure up to your calm intellect.

“Why does she have to be so perfect?” he thinks, but only when he’s alone.

The thought torments him and keeps him up at night.

♡ Gojo, the declaration of affection-One evening, after yet another failed attempt at getting your attention, he stands in front of you.

The usual smirk is gone.

“I think… I think I like you.”

You blink.

He’s waiting for you to say something clever, to shut him down.

But you don’t.

You just stare at him with that unreadable expression.

“Yeah, I know,” you finally say, casually flipping through your book.

He’s left speechless, heart racing in a way he’s never felt before.

The realization hits him hard. You’re so far above him, and yet, he’s already in too deep.

♡ Gojo, the love-struck fool-He can’t help it. No matter how much he tries to deny it, he’s falling for you.

Every interaction, every glance, every indifferent comment you make only makes him more obsessed with you.

But he’s Gojo Satoru, and he’s never been the type to give up so easily.

He’s decided.

He’s going to make you notice him.

No matter how hard it gets, no matter how impossible it feels,

He’s going to win this challenge.

And it’s going to be the best battle of his life.

@syrooo @11v1ngzomble @dekusdante @inoluvrr @hel1nn

[miniimight]

Hellooo! Could you please write for the boys where the reader is sick but doesn't tell them bcs she doesn't wanna bother them?? I love your your blog sm 💙💙

HIDING YOUR SICKNESS ! reader doesn't wanna bother her boyfriend

with izuku, bakugo, rody + fem!reader (pro hero era)

notes thanks for the request anon !!

you: hey i don't think i can make our date tonight... i'm sorry, something came up

he frowned when he got the text. he pinched the bridge of his nose and his overthinking kicked in. you'd been distancing yourself a lot recently... between you spending all your time at someone else's place, having to postpone dates, and his hero work, you barely got to see each other.

he was worried. he pressed the call button and waited for you to pick up.

IZUKU

"hello? y/n?"

you folded from the concern in his voice. he was always going to be worried about you, no matter what you tried to do.

"izuku..." you rasped and you could tell he was taken aback.

"what's wrong, honey?" he said softly. "you don't sound too good..."

you bit your lip. oh, what the hell. he was going to find out anyway. "i'm just a little sick, that's all. i can handle—"

"sick?!" izuku exclaimed and you shied away from his volume. "my love, you should have told me."

"no, it's really okay—"

"how long have you felt this way? is this why you've been postponing our dates? where are you right now?" he ignored your protests and rambled on with more questions for a bit. you weakly answered them all.

"okay, sweetheart, i'm on my way." you could hear him huffing as you assumed he leapt across rooftops. "stay on call..."

a burden was lifted off your shoulders, and the relief made you fall asleep right then and there.

later—though how much later, you didn't know—you blinked the sleep out of your eyes. groaning, you stretched your arms and propped your body up with your elbows.

"oh, you're awake. lay down, love."

you tuned into izuku's voice, squinting through your daze. he was sitting at your bedside, a wet rag in his hand. he shushed you when you tried to ask him all your questions, gently laying the rag across your forehead and kissing your heated cheek.

"you had a fever, honey." izuku hummed, pulling the chair closer to the bed and leaning over the side. "you shouldn't have been under all those stuffy blankets."

you frowned and looked around. the windows were open, the curtains flowing as fresh air filtered in. it was true, you did feel a little less suffocated.

you pursed your lips, feeling guilty. "i'm sorry."

he was absolutely bewildered. "what could you possibly be sorry for?"

you sniffed, rubbing your eyes. "you were at work, right? and..."

izuku softened, stroking your temples with understanding. "it's never an issue for me to take care of you, love. don't be sad. just relax and let me handle everything, okay? i'm here now, to take care of you."

BAKUGO

"where are you and why have you been avoiding my calls?"

you pressed your lips into a thin line. straight to the point, as usual. "i'm... i'm staying at a friend's for the time being." you tried to speak evenly, without any tiredness.

you heard bakugo sigh deeply. "what's the matter, baby? and don't think about hidin' anything from me."

you groaned internally, letting your head drop against the mattress. you mumbled.

"what was that?"

you flared up, heat overwhelming your body. "i'm sick! okay?! i'm so sick right now."

he didn't respond.

you sighed. "i didn't want you to catch anything or worry about it. i can handle it and i'll be back in no time."

he scoffed. "fuck that. i'm coming to get you."

"kat, really—?!"

"yes, really!" you heard faint explosions in the background. "seriously, thinking you can recover on your own when you can't even speak properly." he chuckled.

you wanted to retort, but your throat burned. hmph, you thought. you let yourself drift asleep, feeling comforted.

later, you woke up in his bed to the sound of clanking pots in the kitchen. brows furrowed, you groaned as you stretched, your body buzzing after you let yourself drop into the plush mattress once more.

bakugo peeked into the room. "you're up. good. you need to eat." with an apron on, he placed an assortment of dishes in front of you; soup, fruits, and some cough drops for later.

you sat up a little, startled when his hand pressed against your forehead.

"you have a fever." he shook his head, disappointed. "you probably made it a little worse, isolating yourself under all those sheets. you were overheated when i got you."

you pouted, taking a sip of water.

he craned his neck to meet your eyes, thinking you'd be relieved being home and in his care. you clearly had something on your mind. "baby..." he held your hand. "jus' tell me what's on your mind."

you met his eyes briefly before looking away. "i... didn't want you to miss work for this."

"this matters more than paperwork." he rolled his eyes, a soft smile on his face. he squeezed your hands. "just eat up and rest up. i'll handle everything else."

RODY

"y/n?"

"nope!" his little sister, lala, chirped. "it's me!"

during his last layover, he hadn't been getting much of a response from you. he trusted you with everything, but he was worried. now that he was back in otheon, he was ready to figure out what the hell was going on.

he chuckled at his sister. you must've given her your phone to play her favorite game. "hey, lala. where's y/n, do you know?"

"she's sleeping now." rody could hear her breathing as she pattered over to where he assumed you were laying down. "sleeping like a log."

"yeah?" rody responded, deep in thought. it wasn't like you to sleep while looking after his siblings, so he knew something was wrong. "what was she doing before she fell asleep?"

"uhhh... she made lunch for us?" lala sniffed. "i feel bad, though."

rody's eyebrows creased, tugging a suitcase behind him as he unconsciously walked faster. "why's that?"

"she's got a mask on, and she doesn't want us too close to her..." lala sighed. "and she's burning up."

rody put the pieces together. he raced to the carpark and zoomed on home, bursting through the door.

the loud noise startled you out of your slumber, sitting upright. the abrupt motion made you dizzy and you groaned. lala pat your shoulder, concerned.

rody dropped his suitcase to the ground, kneeling at your side. slipping off his gloves, he pressed his hand to the side of your neck.

"seriously, babe, you should've told me when you started feeling off." he frowned, bustling about to grab you the things you needed. "i could've left any time."

your eyes were glassy when you looked at him, and he felt his heart twisting. "m'sorry," you mumbled from behind the mask. "i didn't want to bother you..."

he scoffed and pulled the mask off your face, squishing your cheeks. he looked you square in the eye. though he was scolding you, he was so soft and gently. "you never bother me. all i think about is you, lala, and roro. i want to know everything you're feeling, no matter what."

you smiled, looking lopsided as your face was still in his hands. "okay."

he grinned and kissed you.

"ugh!" you recoiled, scooching away from him. "rody! you'll get sick!"

he crossed his arms, smiling. "and? we can be in that boat together."

you rolled your eyes. "oh my god."

"aw, don't be like that, baby." rody cuddled up next to you, peppering you with affection. "come on, let me take care of you."

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[mrsbarnesblog]

wakanda

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: Bucky's trigger words are being removed and you finally talk about your feelings.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: +18 ‼️ smut, trigger words, feelings, oral sex, unprotected sex, size kink, dirty talk, love confessions.

Author's note: read part 1 for the better experience💘

After that night, you woke up with Bucky holding you tightly to his chest, and it was really one of the best feelings—waking up in the warmth of his body wrapped around you. Your muscles were sore; you wanted to nuzzle into him and stay like that forever, but unfortunately, Fury called you not so long after because apparently you were the only one who was able to do the mission. 

You two didn’t have enough time to talk about whatever happened between you. You were able to say just a few words to each other, with another agent hurrying you up from the quinjet. And after almost the whole month passed by without any contact, you finally got a call from Shuri, who told you that in a couple of days Ayo was going to officially remove trigger words from Bucky, and if everything goes well, he would get a new arm and would be a free man. 

Sitting in a quinjet a few miles away from Wakanda, you felt nervous as hell. You didn’t know what Bucky felt toward you. Were your feelings mutual? He did say that he thought about you, but was it just sex for him? Or maybe he regretted everything and wanted to be your friend again. 

Honestly, you wouldn’t be able to handle that. After that night, after you finished your mission and were again alone in your room, the aching feeling in your chest made you want to cry. You wanted Bucky with every piece of your body, and living for a month with a million questions and scenarios was too tough. And now, thinking about the coming ceremony, you could barely stop yourself from going down the rabbit hole. 

When you finally landed, one of the Dora Milages met you to guide you to the place of the ceremony. It was in the woods, far away from the city and anyone’s eyes. At first, you saw Ayo, who only nodded to you with a small smile. 

But then your eyes fell on him. 

Bucky was already looking at you, and you didn’t quite understand how he felt about your presence. He was sitting near the fire in his usual Wakandian clothes and with a cute, messy bun—the same that you saw on him when everything between you went downhill. The fire in front of him danced across his face, making him look stunning. Though you could see that he was scared and nervous about what was coming. Those deep lines in between his eyebrows, the slightly unfocused and distant look in the eyes, and the nervous clenching of his fist. It took everything in you not to run closer and hug him to say that he was strong and everything was going to be okay.

Bucky couldn’t believe that you were really there. You came to Wakanda for him, to support him in such an important moment, even though you didn’t have to. You looked gorgeous as always, and the soft smile on your face calmed his overthinking mind. Mumbling a quiet “hey” under your breath, you saw the soft smile blossoming on Bucky’s face and his lips slightly moving as he said it back to you. He was nervous as hell, he couldn’t fight the feeling that there was no chance for him to heal and that the piece of the Winter Soldier was forever immortalized in his brain.  But you believed in him, so had had to be strong for you. 

“Are you ready, James?” Ayo interrupted your silent conversation with each other and came close to Bucky. 

“Are you sure about this?” Bucky looked at the fire, now feeling unsure because of this whole situation again. 

“I won’t let you hurt anyone.” Bucky’s worried eyes slipped back to you for a second, as if the thought of you being there when everything might go wrong scared him the most. He just slightly nodded back to Ayo and took a deep breath.

Honestly, you had never heard or even read Bucky’s trigger words because they created a weird, disgusting feeling in your stomach, so when Ayo started to say them, it sent goosebumps down your spine.

Желание.

Your blood froze in your veins by the way Bucky’s face expression changed. His eyes were glued to one spot, and any piece of that soft and warm look that he had for you disappeared.

Ржавый.

Семнадцать.

“This is not gonna work.” His body started to tremble, overwhelmed with the emotions and memories of his past. 

Рассвет. 

Печь.

Девять.

Bucky’s eyes filled with tears, and he gripped his clothes in his right hand to control his body. You silently cried with him, praying to whoever was up there to let this man be free. You knew that he was strong and that he could fight against people who messed up his head, and seeing that he was not giving up made you feel so proud inside.

Добросердечный. 

Возвращение на родину. 

Один.

Грузовой вагон.

“You are free.” You deeply inhaled, only then realizing that you had held your breath. Bucky completely broke down with Ayo’s words, lowering his head and unable to hold burning tears.

Ayo looked at you, and that was everything you needed to rush closer to Bucky. You fell to your knees right on the ground in front of him, wrapping your hands around his shoulders and bringing his head to your neck. He sank into you, crying harder and gripping the back of your shirt with his hand. 

“I’m so proud of you. I’m so, so proud of you, James. You did amazing. You are so strong, baby.” Your soothing voice filled his ears while you held him close to you with one hand and rubbed his back with another. 

“‘M sorry.” The hot breath touched your neck when Bucky started to mumble and apologize with a shaky voice. 

You pushed him back by his shoulders and immediately put your hands on his face when you saw the panic on his face. “No. No, Bucky. There’s nothing to be sorry for, okay? I’m here for you. You did such a good job, and I’m so proud that you fought back and got rid of these stupid words. You can live a normal life now, and I’ll be there for you as long as you want me to.” Your fingers wiped the tears, not missing how Bucky leaned into your touch.

“Thank you for coming here. It means everything to me. I’m serious, Y/N. There’s no one in the world I needed to see during this moment besides you. I missed you so much.” He was clearly unsure whether he should say it or not, but you gave him another soft smile, feeling how the tension left his body a little bit.

“I missed you too, Buck.” Your faces moved closer, eyes glued to each other's lips. “I’m sorry that I left in such a hurry. I didn’t want to.” You almost whispered, unable to stop thinking about kissing him. Bucky had almost given in when his body moved closer to yours as a magnet, but this little intimate moment was interrupted by the voice of Wakanda’s princess. 

“Sorry to disturb your peace, but me and my brother have a little present here. And I’m not a fan of looking at other people making out, by the way.” Your face got hot when you looked back and saw Shuri, T'Challa, and Dora Milaje all staring at you. 

Bucky quickly stood up, helping you get up from your knees and then leaning lower to dust off your knees. He looked back at you with a frown on his cute face, as if only then he realized that you had been standing on the ground this whole time. You only grabbed his right hand and bit your lip, trying to hold back your growing smile. 

You led Bucky closer to everyone, and when two women brought a large vibranium box and put it in front of Bucky, you freed his only arm, putting your left hand on his lower back in a supportive gesture.

“Congratulations, White Wolf.” T’Challa nodded his head, and one of Dora Milaje’s stepped in front of the case and opened it, revealing Bucky’s new arm. 

It was truly beautiful. Smooth, dark vibranium arm with golden pieces. 

“It’s completely my design. This arm is much better than the last one; it’s stronger, it has some cool options, and you can take it off whenever you want to. But what is more important is that I worked hard and found a way to connect it to the nerves so you can feel everything. Not as good as the real one, of course, but still.” Shuri said with her hard accent, obviously being really proud of her own masterpiece. You couldn't hold back the tears, overwhelmed with the fact that she made it for Bucky and didn't ask for anything in return. 

“I can feel?” Bucky’s voice almost broke, and you came closer, pressing your body against his back. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Shuri. And you too, T’Challa. I can't express how grateful I am that you allowed me to stay in Wakanda and are now giving me this.” 

“It’s an honor, Sergeant Barnes. So do you want to try it on?” 

Dora Milaje easily lifted what looked like a really heavy arm; Bucky rolled up his clothes, and, with a quick motion, it was connected with his shoulder. He stayed silent for a few seconds as if he were getting used to the feeling, but then he rotated it 360 degrees, and you heard the soft swirling of the plates. 

He looked down at his new hand, clenching and unclenching his fist, moving each finger, and you stared at this in awe. 

“Can I... hurt someone with it unintentionally?” His eyes quickly shot to you before looking back at Shuri. A knowing smile appeared on her face, and she exchanged looks with her brother. 

“No. Speaking in simple terms, it’s connected to your nervous system and brain. Like your right arm, the brain just sends electrical impulses there. If you have no intention of doing something, it won’t happen. I promise this.”  

“Well, I think we can finish it here. You both can be guests here as long as you want to; our country is always open for you. Have a great night.” T’Challa lowered his head, and you mumbled a little ‘thank you’, and after that, you and Bucky were left alone near the fire. 

You felt the tension between you two as you both stayed silent. Bucky looked too lost in his head, unsure what to do or say to. How was he supposed to acted around the woman he had an amazing sex with and who he had crush on for way too long. It shouldn’t have been that awkward. You were best friends, and even if you both had secret feelings for each other, nothing changed. 

“Can you show me?” You stretched your right hand, waiting for Bucky to feel confident enough to allow you to touch his new vibranium arm. He looked at you curiously, with a hint of fear and insecurity. “It’s just me, Buck, remember?” 

He deeply inhaled before putting his left hand in yours; his eyes were staring at your face, closely looking at your reaction. 

Your hands wrapped around his vibranium wrist, holding it gently and getting used to the feel of the smooth metal. Your right hand went higher to trace golden plates with your fingers, absolutely stunned by their beauty.

 “I– I can feel your touch.” Bucky got a lump in his throat because of your gentle movements and how softly you treated him, even though he didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t exactly how he felt with the right hand, but it was something. The thought of finally being able to hold you and hug you sent a warm feeling through his stomach.

“You deserve it, James. I’m so happy for you.” One of your hands flew back to Bucky’s face, and you bit your lip when the feeling of the moment that you two shared earlier washed over you again.

Bucky once again leaned into your touch, showing how much trust he had for you, while his eyes never left your beautiful face, lit by the warm light of fire. He stepped closer, finally realizing how much he needed to feel you again. Since that day, almost a month ago, he has thought about you non-stop. Even if the rational part of his brain told him that you just couldn’t call or visit him whenever you wanted, he still convinced himself that it meant nothing to you. That it was a mistake, because how could you possibly want him, out of all people?

But now you've come back. You came here again to visit him on such an important day. You stood by him, touching his metal hand without fear, and staring at him in that strange way that made Bucky weak in the knees. 

He didn’t know what to do or how to talk about that night in his hut, but when he nervously licked his lip and your eyes immediately shot there, Bucky couldn’t think straight anymore.

Before you could even process what was going on, Bucky’s hands were on each side of your face, dragging you higher and closer. His slightly chapped lips attacked yours, moving quickly and almost desperately. You were taken aback, but you didn’t mind, kissing him with no less passion. Your tongues were connected, dancing around each other, making you both moan and trying to get your bodies as close as possible. 

It was overwhelming—too hot to handle, actually. If you thought that you just missed Bucky before that, then during the kiss, your mind and your body screamed for him to take you right on the spot. You needed him closer—on top of you, inside of you. 

You suddenly moaned into the kiss, remembering how fucking good it felt to be so full of him. Bucky freed your face, instead finally gripping your waist and hips and pressing you closer to his hard chest. 

“Bucky– James, please, I want you so bad.” You whined, clinging onto his shoulders. He pulled his face away, licking his lips to get more of your taste, and when you locked your eyes again, your body tensed, and you unconsciously started to squeeze around nothing.

You both already looked so messy, with red cheeks and hot skin. Bucky stayed silent for a moment, still getting used to being able to hold you with both arms.

“Are you sure, doll? I don’t want you to regre–” 

“No, no, Bucky. I won’t regret it. The last time was the best fucking night of my life. I wish I could stay, but you know that they didn’t allow me. I missed you, and I thought about it so much that it’s embarrassing to admit.” You quickly interrupted him. Bucky’s hands tightened around you at your confession, and he nodded more to himself.

“C’mon, my hut is not far away.”

***

It was really not far away, but still, while Bucky was leading you by your hand, you almost fell. You were just so mesmerized by his strong back that you completely forgot to look under your feet in the almost complete darkness. Bucky’s reflexes helped you stay on your feet, and mumbling something like “It’s faster that way, anyway,” he casually lifted you off the ground, making you wrap around him like a koala around the tree. His right arm was under your ass, and the metal one was protectively lying on your waist. 

It was so effortless for him, as if your weight were nothing, and it made you even more wet and excited than the kiss. 

In just a few minutes, Bucky got to his hut, turning on the small light and closing the door. He put you back on the floor but he didn’t let you go far away. 

“You can’t imagine how much I want you, Y/N. I dreamed about you even before our first time. You are so beautiful, so gorgeous, fuck.” He dragged you closer, connecting your foreheads. Your chest felt tight after his words, and you gently rubbed his bearded cheek.

“I want you the same way. Since the day we became friends. I wish you could see yourself the way I do—that you deserve all the best things in the world, that you are not a burden for any of us, and especially not for me. ” You mumbled, not breaking eye contact.

Bucky shook his head in disbelief, but then leaned closer and connected your lips. It was much softer, without a rush. You both were just enjoying the feeling, happy to be in each other's arms again. You grabbed his clothes, not ending your kiss, and started to go back until you felt the pile of soft blankets on the floor. You then lowered both of your bodies and laid back, so Bucky was now on top of you.

He stopped kissing you and pulled away to look at you. 

It was and felt much different than your first time. He was on top of you, holding himself with his left arm near your head. Even if Bucky knew that you truly didn’t care about it, the fact that he was now capable of pleasing you and treating you the way you deserved made him feel a little bit better about himself. 

Bucky’s eyes slowly checked your whole body, from your pretty eyes and plump, swollen lips all the way down to the soft skin of your legs. He couldn’t help himself and put his large and warm hand on your left thigh, then traced your legs and belly as if it were his first time. You were shivering under his eyes and touch, but you still didn’t move and let him do what he needed too. 

You understood how hard it was for Bucky to be almost without control the last time you were together. He needed to feel in charge after everything he had gone through, and you didn’t mind letting him do whatever he wanted with you.

“Let me take care of you, doll. Please.” He almost whispered, looking back at your face.

“Do you remember what I told you the last time? You can have me, Bucky.” You put your hands around his body, feeling tensed muscles under his clothes.

I promise that when you get your new arm, I’ll let you fuck me however you want to, okay? 

Bucky growled when he remembered the exact words you told him. 

He caught your lips in a kiss again, rubbing your thigh with his hand and then getting it higher until it rested on your breast, covered in a bra. His mouth moved lower, slightly pinching and biting the tender skin of your neck and collarbones. At the same time, he dragged the cups of your bra lower, finally getting to your boobs. Two fingers took your sensetive nipple in them, slightly pressing on it and making your body tremble. Your fingers slid up from his shoulders until you were able to bury them in the soft brown locks.

“So sensitive, hm?” His hot breath on your chest made you unconsciously nod in agreement, and you could swear that you felt how Bucky’s lips curled up in a smirk. “I need to take it off.” 

Suddenly, he was not lying on top of you anymore but sitting in between your legs with both hands on your thighs. He looked flushed and had that kind of shine in his eyes that you had never seen before.

Bucky’s hands moved higher, pulling up the shirt over your head and throwing it somewhere on the floor. Then he looked at your bra but didn’t do anything.

“You can take it off, Buck. If you remember how to do it, old man.”

The tension in Bucky’s body immediately vanished after your joke, and his brows flew to his hair. 

“Well, then you fuck with an old man, sweetheart. And I do remember how to do it.” He proved his point by sliding his hand behind your back and, with one swift motion, unclipping it. “Shit, I almost forgot how good they looked.” 

His hands hesitated for a few seconds, and when you saw that slightly distant look in his eyes creeping back, you decided to slightly push him. 

“Give me your hands, Bucky. Both of them.” He looked at you unsurely but still obeyed your request.

“I’m not sure—”

You completely ignored his words, instead taking both wrists into your hands and placing Bucky’s hands on your boobs. The feeling of cold metal made you hiss, but it felt good against your flushed and sensitive skin.

“Do you remember what Shuri said? You won’t hurt me until it’s your intention. And you don’t want to do it, do you?” You playfully arched an eyebrow, already knowing the answer.

“No, God— no, doll. I would never, I swear.”

“Then I want you to properly touch me with both of your hands and finally take off your damn clothes.”

“You’re hot when you're being bossy.” Following your instructions, he finally gave in and started to play with your hard nipples with his thumbs. His head lowered back to your chest, and then his hot mouth was sucking and gently licking your nipple while the metal hand took care of the other one.

It felt amazing and addictive. You couldn’t control your moans and the way your hips tried to rub onto something, but only met with Bucky’s lower stomach. You were desperate to get more, without feeling shame grinding on his torso, and finally, when Bucky was satisfied with giving attention to your boobs, he went lower, kissing your belly down to your shorts.

“Need to taste you, doll. Please let me do it.” You just nodded, and it was everything Bucky needed to quickly drag your shorts and panties down your legs and lay flat on his stomach, trowing your legs over his shoulders. 

Your mouth slightly opened at this picture. You would’ve never thought that Bucky Barnes, your best friend and deadliest assassin, would be in between your legs, asking to taste you.

He didn’t hesitate, instantly diving in and licking a long stripe across your folds. You both moaned. Your head fell back, and Bucky gripped your thighs only tighter to hold you close. He was obviously enjoying it himself. You felt it in the way he circled his tongue around your clit, then went lower and put it in you to get every drop of your juice; by the way he was slightly moving your hips, as if he just wanted you to ride his face; and by the way he moaned into your soaking core when your hand slipped into his long hair and gripped them.

Your orgasm came quick and unexpected, washing all over you and making you desperately moan and squeeze your thighs around Bucky’s head. He licked you softly and gently, helping you to go through it but still wanting to taste your sweet cream.

“S’ pretty, baby. Can spend here all fucking day, I swear.” His face and beard looked soaking wet, but he didn’t seem to mind when the self-satisfied grin appeared on his lips. 

You thought that you liked him that way. You felt good that you were able to bring it out of him, even for some time. Bucky looked different, as he forgot about everything else in the world and even about things that happened just an hour ago. He looked younger and happier, and you bit your lip to not smile like an idiot.

Bucky moved higher up your body, kissing you again. You moaned into his mouth as soon as you tasted yourself on his lips, while your hands started wandering around his body and trying to feel more bare skin. Finally, you unfastened his belt and were able to take off his red shuka, revealing pretty and tanned skin that you hadn't had a chance to see fully the last time. 

He moved away, watching your face while your soft hands touched his skin. You were so delicate, tracing with your fingers from his abs to his left shoulder. Bucky’s body shivered when you finally reached the rough, bumpy skin covered in scars. Besides the Wakandian doctors, you were the first person he allowed to see that, and the fact that your face didn’t show any sign of disgust or fear almost brought Bucky to tears.

“You're really beautiful, Bucky; you know that?” Even in the dark light of the room, you could see the pink dust covering his cheeks. “C’mere, I want you.” You dragged him back on top of you, kissing his soft lips. Bucky finally got rid of his clothes with a free hand, and when you felt the weight of his hard cock on the lower part of your belly, you instantly moaned into the kiss. 

Bucky’s flesh hand gripped your thighs, lining his own perfectly that way, so his cock was sliding back and forth on your wet core. You wanted to continue kissing him, but it was hard to concentrate when his tip bumped into your still-sensitive clit every single time. 

“B-bucky…” 

“Fuck, I missed your moans. Baby—so wet for me, huh? Can just easily slip in…” There were only a few inches between your faces, and your lips were touching with each word, but your head was so light and fuzzy with the stimulation that the only thing that you were able to think of was his dick inside of you.

“Please, Bucky, please, I need you inside.” Your legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist, pulling him closer, and your hands were tightly holding his shoulders.

Bucky bumped his nose into yours in an affectionate way, and the next thing you felt was the way he slowly entered you. 

Your eyes rolled back with the loud gasp escaping your mouth. Bucky growled in your neck, settling in and stretching you out so deliciously. His hand probably left fingerprints on your delicate skin, but he just couldn’t control himself with the way your wet pussy was so welcoming and warm around him. 

“My good girl. Fuck, I won’t let you leave again; you’re mine now, baby.” Bucky quickly pulled himself together, standing on his knees in between your legs, and finally started moving. 

He didn’t hesitate when both of his hands held you tightly in place, so you wouldn’t move with every thrust of his hips. He set the perfect steady rhythm, pushing his cock all the way in and then drugging it out so only the tip would stay inside.

You were just a moaning and whining mess, trying to find anything to hold onto. Bucky was standing over you, and as much as you wanted to enjoy his pretty face and perfect body, your eyes were hazy, and you couldn’t really concentrate on anything. 

“That’s right, baby. Feel so good ‘round my cock, takin’ me so well, fuck!” A quick look at the place where the two of you connected almost made Bucky instantly cum. You looked much smaller than him; your pussy gripped his cock so hard, and he was basically drenched in your wetness.

Bucky stretched his right arm to squeeze your nipple, and the change in the angle of his body made the base of his cock touch your clit with every thrust. You couldn’t control the volume of your moans when you dug your nails into Bucky’s arm, and your legs started shaking from the coming orgasm. 

“Bucky, ah—don’t stop, I’m gonna cum! Please!” 

“Cum with me, babydoll, just let it go.” He didn’t stop. He fucked you even harder and faster, moaning your name out loud. You both were in your little bubble, touching each other, scratching and moaning, trying to reach your highs.

It didn’t take you long to fall over the edge. You whined, arching your back from the floor, as your vision became white with a loud noise in your ears. The way you were spasming around him brought Bucky to his final, and not being able to hold himself anymore, he filled you up with his semen, collapsing on top of your body.

You both were quiet for some time—maybe minutes or even hours. Your mind was floating somewhere because the heavy and warm body on top of you made you feel incredibly safe and comfy. Only when Bucky slightly moved away and brushed sweaty baby hairs from your forehead did you open your eyes.

He was flushed and sweaty too, but he had the biggest smile you’ve seen on his face.

Bucky couldn’t help but stare at your pretty face with dreamy eyes. You were so perfect—literally the best human being in the world—and right now you were with him. You accepted everything he had done; you showered him with your attention and your kindness, even before this happened and when you were best friends.

He wondered who you were for him now.

After that, he couldn’t be your friend anymore. Not when he saw you naked, kissed you, or heard you moaning his name. Even if Bucky tried to silence the voice in his head and lock away his heart, it was impossible to do it now. Lost in his head, his mouth finally worked on it’s own, saying things that were created by his stupid brain. 

“I love you.” 

Bucky froze in your hands, as if he had surprised even himself with those words, but you didn’t let him pull away and become distant again. You grabbed his face and couldn’t hold back your bright smile.

“I love you too, Buck. I’ve been in love with you for so long.” Bucky couldn’t believe his ears and stared at you in pure disbelief.

“I was head over heels for you but I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to ruin everything between us.” Your foreheads touched as you both closed your eyes to enjoy each other's presence.

“Well, me too. I guess we’re both just stupid.” You chuckled. 

“Yeah, definitely.” Bucky smiled back at you before he closed an inch between your faces and kissed you again. Sweetly and softly, this time showing you all of the emotions that he kept for you.

“So what’s next? What do you want to do? You are free now.” Bucky fell near you on the floor, pulled you closer to his chest, and deeply inhaled.

“I don’t know... I like to be here, but I want to go back to New York, to Brooklyn, and I want to be with you.” 

“Then stay in the compound. Stay with us. Stay with me. We can spend a few more days in Wakanda and then go back to New York. I bet that Steve and even Sam miss you.” Your fingers traced the lines on his stomach, and you looked up to see Bucky's reaction to your words.

“Okay, doll. Let’s do it. I'll be happy to do whatever you want to, as long as you're with me.” Bucky kissed the top of your head, tightening his hands around your back, and you nuzzled deeper into his body, finally being happy and calm.

Tags: @scorpiosaintt @livingoffsavvyillusion

[thewertsearch]

TG: jakes bday is coming up really soon TG: just a few days before mine remembr […] TG: i just wanted your advice on what to get him TG: something sentimental i guess? but i mean im mostly tapped out of precious heirlooms atm so idk TG: but not like anything coming on too strong

I don't think you need to overthink things, where Jake is concerned. Just like John, he strikes me as a rather straightforward guy, and would probably appreciate the direct approach.

Seriously, just be upfront with your feelings. He'll respond with either "capital! let us begin courting, post-haste!", or "sincerest apologies, my dear compatriot, but my heart lies with my cerulean beauties!"

Either way, the issue will be resolved. Simple as that.

TG: something that says TG: this is totes platonic and everything TG: no eyebrow raising funnybiz is goin on over here TG: but still says you know TG: call me TG: if you wanna

Nah, I'm just fucking with you.

These are teenagers. They're full of big emotions that they don't know what to do with, and they're navigating the treacherous waters of romance without a map. I might have dunked on Eridan when he said it, back in our Hivebent days, but when you're a kid, growing up really is hard, and nobody does understand. Not even you.

Roxy's not going to initiate a frank discussion about her feelings with Jake - she's going to pine for at least fifty pages, and then impulsively confess everything at once, probably in the middle of a crisis. Sometimes, that's just how it goes, when you're a teenager - and it's always how it goes when you're a fictional teenager.

TG: u dont think that if i didnt say he was off limits on account of you being my best friend TG: i wouldnt be all the hell over that????

Wait, ok. So Roxy is pretending she's going to flirt with Jake - but she's really just messing with Jane, because Jane's also into him.

It's nice that there's no bad blood between the two as a result. You just know that in a lesser story, Jane and Roxy would proceed to squabble over this guy until it completely ruined their friendship. Thank you, Homestuck, very cool!

TG: you dont even let me say your dad is hot even though we both know he way the fuck is i mean come one

In every timeline, Roxy is destined to swoon over the prefect gentleman that is Dad Egbert.

GG: I don't see why you don't try to court the favor of Mr. Strider. If you ask me, he and you are perfect for each other. TG: oh jane TG: so naive TG: soooo niaev

The Bro we knew probably shouldn't have been dating anyone. Perhaps this version of him is equally unapproachable, and Roxy knows it - his little out-of-office responder would certainly suggest that that's the case.

GG: How can you be this fargone so early? […] TG: its a lot later here GG: You're three hours ahead of me! TG: youd would be amazed TG: how much can happen TG: in 3 hours GG: Tsk. What would your mother have to say if she caught you? TG: p sure she wouldnt give a shit

Rose, what the fresh fuck!

Look - guys, I know she's not exactly the maternal type, but come on. Even the adult Roxy, absent and alcoholic as she was, at least lifted a finger to keep her daughter safe, and you're telling me Rose can't even clear that bar?

Maybe Roxy's projecting a little. Rose often assumed her mother was acting in bad faith, even when that wasn't necessarily the case, and there's no reason that something similar couldn't be happening here.

...right?

[puckstories]

Game Tape ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Quinn Hughes

Pairing; Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); None I believe. Established relationship, fluff + a teeny tiny bit of angst?

Summary; A lil domestic moment, chatting on the sofa late night. Quinn is stressed. (Terrible summary I apologize)

Word Count; 1.8k

Author's note; This is kind of boring? I don't know. I wanted to write something gave a glimpse into the sort of stress that being a professional athlete can have on the player, as well as their partner? Fem!Reader's relationship with Quinn is complex, and she's his anchor, in the way that if he's flying to close to the sun, she'll be there. I don't know. Would love to know your thoughts if you have any! I hope you like it. -Honey

It’s a cold early December evening, one of Quinn’s rare days off. Snow has finally began to blanket the sidewalks, and the sharp bite of the wind carries the unmistakable promise of Christmastime. The two of you have spent the entire day tucked indoors, savoring the kind of lazy comfort only winter seems to invite. Breakfast was a cozy affair in bed, dinner a warm, aromatic soup you cooked together. Now, you’ve settled onto the sofa together in the living room. Quinn is slouched against you, his arm draped lazily over your shoulder as his eyes flicker across the glowing screen, his brows furrowed as he processes his latest game tape, another tough loss for his Canucks. You're comfortably absorbed in your book, your legs casually draped across his lap as you flip through the pages.

"How many times are you planning to watch that play?" You ask, your tone teasing but gentle, eyes never leaving Wuthering Heights.

Quinn lets out an exasperated huff, pausing the tape mid-play. The room falls silent except for the soft hum of the furnace. He rolls his eyes, his expression caught somewhere between frustration and chagrin. "The more I watch, the more stuff I catch," he says, moving slightly to let his head fall back against the couch, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as his fingers drum absently at your thigh. "I don’t know... something just feels off."

"Something's off with the team?"

Quinn’s eye twitches—a subtle sign of annoyance at the fact that you weren't really listening to him. He lets out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking his head slightly before responding. "I meant me," he says, his voice edged with frustration, though not directed at you. "Something is off with my game. I'm not playing as well as I normally do, and everyone is noticing."

"Well, you’re playing, what, over thirty minutes a night? You’ve got a heavy workload. That’s bound to lead to a mistake or two," you say, your tone matter-of-fact as you casually flip to the next page of your book.

He rolls his eyes. He knows you're right, but refuses to admit it. A muscle in his jaw tightens as his gaze returns to the paused frame on the TV screen. He exhales a deep, weary breath, his shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of his own expectations, and he's leaned back into your side where he was before, his head resting on your shoulder again. "That’s not it," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "I know it’s not. It’s... mental. Like, I’m overthinking everything out there. I see the play happening, but I'm a second behind. Just can’t figure out what the hell’s wrong with me."

"Well, I'm sure torturing yourself by watching the same play over and over again will fix it."

He lets out another laugh, a genuine one this time. "It may not be helping, I'll give you that. But I don't exactly have another solution right now, and you're too absorbed in your book to even care."

A soft laugh escapes your lips as you let your book fall closed in your lap. Shifting slightly, you turn to properly face him just as he lifts his head from your shoulder. The movement lets you take him in fully—the dark circles under his eyes seem even more pronounced now, a testament to weeks of exhaustion, and the faint red mark on his forehead, left behind by hours of wearing his helmet, looks irritated despite his insistence that it doesn’t bother him. Still, even with the wear and tear etched into his features, he’s as handsome as ever to you—perhaps even more so. Your hand reaches up almost instinctively, your fingers weaving gently through the overgrown waves of his brunette hair, the strands soft and free from sweat. "I do care, dummy."

Quinn sighs, leaning into your touch just a little, as if your hand in his hair is the only thing grounding him. "I know, I know," he murmurs, his voice low. "I’m just... frustrated, is all."

Your lips twist into a frown. "I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, letting out a huff. "Don't apologize, idiot. It's not your fault I'm stressed out."

You hum softly, a sound that seems to settle the air around you. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you reach for one of his hands, cradling it in yours. Your thumbs move gently over the skin of his palm, slow and deliberate, tracing circles that feel almost meditative.

Quinn exhales, this time a genuine sigh of contentment, the kind that feels like a weight lifting off his chest. A rare sense of peace begins to creep in, softening the tension he’s been carrying. For once, he allows himself to let go, his mind surrendering to the comfort of the moment.

His breathing slows, each inhale deeper than the last as his eyes flutter shut. The usual storm of thoughts in his head grows quiet, replaced by the grounding simplicity of your presence. He focuses on the warmth of your touch, the way your fingers intertwine so naturally with his, as though they were meant to fit together. The subtle notes of your perfume—sweet strawberry and vanilla—linger in the air, soothing him further.

For the first time that evening, the relentless noise from hockey fades into the background. In its place is you: your closeness, your touch, your quiet companionship. And in that fleeting moment, Quinn lets himself just be—no plays to analyze, no mistakes to overthink, just the steady comfort of being next to you.

A few quiet minutes pass before you break the silence. "Can we be done with this?" you ask, gesturing toward the paused game tape on the TV. Your tone is soft but insistent. "Let’s call it a night early and go cuddle in bed."

Quinn’s lips twitch into a smile as he glances down at you, a mischievous glint in his tired eyes. He raises a brow, his voice taking on a teasing lilt. "Cuddling? That’s it?"

You meet his gaze with an amused expression, tilting your head slightly. "As opposed to what, mister?"

He chuckles, the sound low and warm, and shakes his head, his grin widening. There’s a lightness to him now, a stark contrast to the earlier frustration. "Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, dummy," he says, his voice mock-accusatory.

His laughter lingers in the air, and you roll your eyes in response, though a smile creeps onto your face despite your best efforts.

"Just wanted to get a laugh outta you."

Quinn’s smile widens, the corners of his lips quirking up in that effortless way that makes your heart flutter. Shaking his head, he leans back against the couch and, without a word, wraps his hands around your waist. In one fluid motion, he pulls you into his lap, his movements casual but firm.

His arms encircle you securely, drawing you closer until there’s no space left between you. He rests his head on your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. The scent of him—clean and familiar, with a faint trace of cologne—fills your senses. He takes a deep breath, letting out a contented hum that vibrates softly against your collarbone.

Your fingers instinctively find their way to his hair again, threading gently through the dark strands. The repetitive motion seems to soothe him, and you feel the tension in his shoulders start to melt away.

"I’m serious," you murmur, your voice softer now. "I don’t want you making yourself crazy over hockey."

"I’m not making myself crazy," he murmurs, his voice low and resolute. "I just want to win."

You exhale deeply, the sound heavy with both concern and understanding. You pause, choosing your words carefully, not wanting to push too hard but unable to stay silent. "I want you to win, too," you say gently, your fingers still gently combing through his hair. "But not at the expense of your mental health."

Quinn lets out another hum, the sound more thoughtful than dismissive. He knows you’re right—of course, you’re right—but that doesn’t make it any easier to accept. Winning isn’t just a goal for him; it’s a necessity, a part of who he is. He’s never been the kind of person to give anything less than everything he has, even when it takes a toll. He leans back slightly, his gaze distant as if he’s searching for answers somewhere in the room. The drive to be the best gnaws at him relentlessly, and the belief that he can be, that he should be, is a constant weight on his shoulders.

"I’m not letting it affect my mental health, alright?" he says, glancing at you with a small, reassuring smile that reaches his eyes, giving you peace of mind in the moment. "I’m fine. Just... need to get my head straight, that’s all."

You study him, your eyes searching his face with a intensity that only deepens the slight furrow of your brow. His words linger in the air, and as you take them in, you know without a doubt he’s being honest. You’ve always been able to tell when Quinn is trying to bluff his way through something, and this isn’t one of those times.

His hazel eyes hold yours, unwavering and filled with a quiet vulnerability that he rarely lets show. Slowly, he raises a hand, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a touch so tender it sends warmth radiating through you. "Promise me something?" He asks.

You nod, leaning ever so slightly into his palm. "Yeah, angel," you reply, the nickname slipping out naturally. "What is it?"

He lets out a small, almost exasperated huff at the sound of that nickname—a stupid nickname, he’d call it if you asked—but the corners of his lips twitch upward, betraying how much he secretly adores it. As much as he hates to admit it, the way you say angel makes his heart skip every damn time. "Kick my ass every once in a while for overworking myself?"

You let out a snort, shaking your head as a laugh bubbles up from your chest. "So, what, I should kick your ass right now?" you tease, your eyes gleaming with amusement.

Quinn lets out a scoff, followed by an exaggerated eye roll, his expression caught somewhere between amused and exasperated. "I meant in the future, smartass," He quips.

Another laugh escapes you, this one louder, brighter, filling the space between you. "Alright, deal," you say, your grin mirroring his.

He leans in closer, the warmth of his presence pulling you in, and presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. The gesture is tender, almost childlike in its sweetness, but the grin that follows is anything but. "Good." He murmurs, "Now, can we go upstairs like you were saying? Think I have a better idea than cuddling."

[ruewritesoccasionally]

The Reunion Pt. 5 | Aaron Pierre

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Reader

Warnings: Fluff, emotional intimacy, soft yet passionate smut (18+), deep yearning, mutual pining finally paying off, and excessive tenderness. 🥹💛

Chapter Summary: A first date years in the making—filled with warmth, nostalgia, and the quiet certainty of something undeniable. As the night unfolds, hesitation gives way to longing, and love finally finds its way home

Word Count: 3.3K

a/n: now i know i said that i hate writing series' but this is different, this feels like a love letter to everything they’ve built and there's one more chapter left to go. Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3 & Pt 4

He let out a sharp exhale, shaking his head at his own reflection. It wasn’t like this was the first time he was seeing her. He had spent years by her side, watched her grow, laughed with her, held her when she cried. And yet, this—this—felt different. It was different.

Because tonight, she wasn’t just his best friend. She was his.

Aaron ran a hand down his face before glancing at his phone. No new messages. He checked the time—still early, but not early enough to be standing in his bedroom like an idiot, overthinking every possible outcome.

Would the night go smoothly? Would she regret this? Would he?

No. Not a chance in hell.

The moment she had kissed him back, the moment she had whispered so have I, every lingering doubt had been silenced.

Still, the nerves remained.

With a sigh, he grabbed his cologne, spritzing it lightly before second-guessing and reaching for a different bottle instead.

His phone buzzed. A call from Marcus.

Aaron swiped to answer, putting him on speaker as he continued getting ready.

“Yo, what’s up?”

“Should be asking you that,” Marcus said, amusement lacing his tone. “You good?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Marcus scoffed. “Bro, I called to ask if you wanted to grab a drink, and you sounded like you were pacing a hole in your floor. And now I hear you fussing over something. What, your hair not curling the way you like?”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Man, shut up.”

A beat of silence. Then, Marcus hummed knowingly. “Ohhh. Wait. Wait.” He laughed. “It’s the date, isn’t it?”

Aaron didn’t respond, but that only made Marcus double down.

“Wow. You’ve been friends with this woman for years, and now you’re stressing over cologne? Damn, bro.”

“I’m not stressing.”

Marcus outright cackled. “Right. And I’m about to get signed to the Lakers.”

Aaron huffed, setting the cologne down with a thud.

Marcus’ voice softened, though the teasing edge remained. “Look, man. It’s her. You’ve already won. Just be yourself.”

Aaron exhaled slowly, running a hand down his face.

Marcus was right. He didn’t need to prove anything to her. She already knew him—every piece of him.

But deep down, he still knew—this wasn’t just another date.

It was the date.

The one that changed everything.

He picked up a small velvet box from his nightstand, flipping it open to reveal the delicate silver bracelet inside. It wasn’t flashy, wasn’t extravagant, but it meant something. Inside the band, a date was engraved—the day they had met.

A reminder that, no matter what, she had always been the best thing to happen to him.

“Aaron?” Marcus’ voice pulled him back. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” he said, snapping the box shut. “I gotta go.”

Marcus chuckled. “Good luck, lover boy.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, hung up, grabbed his keys, and exhaled once more before heading out the door.

She had changed her outfit three times.

First, a sleek black dress. Too formal.

Then, a casual top and jeans. Too relaxed.

Her hands trembled slightly as she held up another dress, scrutinising it under the soft glow of her bedroom light. Too casual? Too much? Too desperate?

She sighed, tossing it onto the growing pile on her bed.

Now, she stood in front of the mirror, staring at the soft, figure-hugging dress she had finally settled on. It was perfect—hopefully. The colour caught the corner of her eye, unlocking a memory. ‘You should wear that more often’, Aaron had once told her offhandedly, his voice warm with something she hadn’t dared to name at the time. Looks good on you. She swallowed, smoothing her hands over the fabric. Maybe, just maybe, he’d meant more than she realised.

This wasn’t just any date.

Her heart clenched at the thought.

Every other date before this had been easy. Simple. She had gone in knowing how it would end, whether it was with polite goodbyes or the quiet realisation that there was nothing there to build on.

But this?

This was Aaron.

Her best friend. The one person who had seen her at every stage of life and somehow still looked at her like she was everything.

She caught her reflection in the mirror, eyes scanning over the outfit she’d finally settled on. The soft fabric draped perfectly, highlighting her figure without trying too hard. It’s just Aaron, she told herself, smoothing her hands down her sides. Just Aaron.

So why was she still second-guessing?

Her phone vibrated.

Aisha.

Breathe, babe. He already loves you—this is just a formality.

YN let out a small, breathy laugh, her fingers tightening around the phone.

Loves me.

Her stomach twisted—not in fear, but in something deeper. A longing, an ache that had always been there, buried beneath logic and hesitation.

Because Aisha was right.

She had known it for a while now, in the way Aaron looked at her, in the way he spoke to her, in the way he had always been there. This wasn’t just a first date. This was a beginning.

She exhaled, shaking off the nerves. Then, smiling to herself, she sent back a simple response:

I know.

And for the first time that evening, she felt ready.

Aaron stood outside her door, rolling his shoulders as if that would ease the tension coiled in his body. The moment he lifted his hand to knock, the door swung open, revealing her.

And for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

She was stunning. The soft, figure-hugging dress—the one he’d offhandedly complimented months ago—wrapped around her body like it had been made for her. The colour made his chest ache, because, of course, she remembered.

Of course, she wore it for him.

Her lips parted as if to say something, but words seemed to fail them both. A slow smile tugged at his lips, his voice lower than he intended.

“You look… incredible.”

She glanced away, smoothing her hand over the fabric, pretending she didn’t feel the heat spreading up her neck. “You clean up nice yourself.”

Aaron chuckled, offering his arm. “Shall we?”

The drive was easy, filled with light teasing and an undercurrent of anticipation neither of them acknowledged. When he pulled up to the restaurant, she blinked in surprise.

“This place—”

“—we talked about coming here for years,” he finished, watching her reaction closely. “Figured it was about time we made it happen.”

She turned to him fully, eyes warm with something unreadable. “You really remembered that?”

Aaron scoffed, feigning offense. “You think I don’t listen when you talk?”

“I think you’re scarily good at remembering things I don’t even remember saying.”

He smirked. “Some things are worth remembering.”

The night unfolded like a memory they hadn’t lived yet. Conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter, stolen glances, and quiet moments that spoke louder than words.

At one point, their hands brushed on the table, neither of them moving away. The warmth of his skin against hers sent a hum through her veins.

“I was thinking earlier,” Aaron said, his voice dipping into something softer, “about all the times I almost told you.”

She tilted her head. “Told me what?”

“That I was in love with you.”

Her breath caught.

Aaron smiled, small and knowing. “You probably didn’t notice, but there were so many moments when I wanted to say something. Like the time you got that job offer you were so nervous about, and I took you out to celebrate? That night felt more like a date than any date I’d ever been on.”

She thought back to that evening—how he’d made her feel like the only person in the room, the way he’d looked at her across the table, like she was something precious.

She swallowed. “I remember.”

“And then there was your birthday last year,” he continued, voice dipping lower, like a confession meant only for her ears. “We were standing outside your place, and you hugged me goodnight. I swear, I almost didn’t let go.”

She let out a shaky breath, eyes searching his.

“I didn’t want to ruin what we had,” he admitted. “But if I’m being honest? I was ruining myself by pretending I didn’t feel this way.”

The weight of his words settled between them, heavy and full of meaning.

She reached across the table, lacing her fingers through his. “You’re not ruining anything.”

Aaron exhaled, squeezing her hand. “Good.”

The drive back was filled with that same quiet warmth, but there was something else simmering beneath the surface. Something unspoken but impossible to ignore.

As they pulled up outside her place, she turned to him, smirking. “You really wore cologne just for me, huh?”

Aaron scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Mm. Marcus told me you were stressing over it.”

He groaned, shaking his head. “That man has no loyalty.”

She laughed, unbuckling her seatbelt. “It’s cute, though.”

Aaron hummed. “You calling me cute?”

“I said it’s cute. Not you.”

He arched a brow. “That so?”

Before she could react, he moved swiftly—unbuckling his seatbelt and leaning in, caging her against the car door.

The playful banter died between them, replaced by something heavier.

His face was inches from hers, his thumb grazing the curve of her jaw. He tilted his head, studying her.

Their breaths mingled in the small space between them.

Her heart hammered.

Not yet.

He didn’t say it out loud, but she heard it anyway.

He exhaled sharply, dropping his hand and leaning back. “Go inside, sweetheart.”

She swallowed hard, her fingers twitching against the door handle.

Then, she turned back to face him.

“Aaron?”

He was still watching her, still gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him steady.

She hesitated, then—softly, carefully—said, “Come inside. Just for a little while.”

Aaron’s breath hitched. For a split second, she thought he might say no. But then, without a word, he shut off the engine and got out.

Inside, the energy between them shifted again—easier, lighter. She kicked off her heels, sighing as she wiggled her toes, and Aaron chuckled, shaking his head.

“Don’t laugh,” she murmured, sinking onto the couch, stretching her legs beneath her. “I survived a whole evening in those.”

Aaron smirked, settling into the chair across from her, watching her like he was memorising every little thing—the way she tucked her legs up, the way she absently played with the hem of her dress, the way her face softened now that she was home.

“You’re staring,” she pointed out, tilting her head.

“I know.”

He didn’t even try to deny it.

They fell into conversation easily, reminiscing, sharing old memories that now felt different—charged with the weight of everything they had yet to say.

"You remember that trip we all took? The one where Marcus swore he could build a fire from scratch?" she mused, laughing softly.

Aaron grinned. “You mean the one where he nearly burned off his eyebrows?”

She snorted. "And you were the one who had to step in and actually get the fire going."

He shrugged, feigning modesty. "What can I say? I like fixing things."

Her laughter softened, fading into something quieter.

Aaron leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. “I like this.”

She blinked. “Like what?”

“This. Us.”

Her heart thumped against her ribs. "Me too."

The words sat between them, gentle but weighted.

She barely noticed the way he had shifted closer.

Barely noticed the way her own body had angled toward him.

Then, as the silence stretched, he reached for her hand, his thumb grazing over her knuckles.

The world quieted.

His voice, low and rough with something deep, broke the stillness.

“I meant what I said.”

Her breath caught.

“I don’t just want tonight,” he murmured. “I want all of it.”

A slow warmth unfurled in her chest. She had spent so long holding back, convincing herself this wasn’t possible. That she couldn’t have him, not like this.

But looking at him now—his stormy eyes filled with something so sure, so certain—she finally let herself believe it.

She laced her fingers through his and exhaled, steady.

“Then take it.”

The first kiss inside her apartment had been different.

Not rushed, not desperate—deliberate.

A slow, deep, drawn-out claiming.

Aaron kissed her like he was memorising her. Like he was tracing each curve, each shiver, each breath to commit it all to memory. His hands skimmed her waist, mapping the warmth of her skin beneath her dress, but there was no urgency, no rush to take.

It was patience. It was devotion. It was this is where I’ve always belonged.

She felt it in the way his lips moved against hers, in the way his breath stuttered slightly when she pressed closer, her nails dragging lightly over the short hair at the nape of his neck.

When they broke apart, Aaron rested his forehead against hers, his breathing uneven.

“Are you sure?” His voice was low, rough, barely more than a whisper.

She cupped his face, running her thumb over the curve of his jaw. “Aaron,” she murmured, “I’ve always been sure.”

A quiet exhale left his lips, like he had been waiting for this confirmation all his life. He turned his head, pressing a reverent kiss to her palm, then to her fingertips, then to the inside of her wrist, lingering there like he was giving thanks.

When he guided her backward, toward the bedroom, it wasn’t urgent—it was unspoken understanding.

He needed to see her. All of her.

His fingers trailed over the zipper of her dress, undoing it with aching slowness. Every inch of revealed skin was met with his lips, soft and unhurried. When the fabric slipped down her body, pooling at her feet, he pulled back slightly, eyes dragging over her frame like she was something divine.

“Let me see you,” he murmured, voice thick with awe.

And when she let him—when she stood there, bare before him, without hesitation or doubt—his expression softened into something almost reverent.

Aaron reached out, fingertips ghosting down the path of a stretch mark along her hip, tracing over the swell of her curves like he was committing each one to memory. His gaze flickered up to hers, something unreadable swirling behind those eyes.

“You’re breathtaking.”

A warmth bloomed in her chest, and before she could reply, his lips were on her again, guiding her toward the bed, their bodies moving as if they had done this a thousand times in another life.

He took his time, learning her in a way neither of them had ever allowed before. Every touch was measured, every kiss purposeful. When his lips found the inside of her thigh, he let them linger, inhaling softly, as if he were breathing her in.

He didn’t rush.

He savoured.

When his mouth finally met her, her fingers twisted into the sheets, a gasp spilling from her lips that made Aaron groan against her. He gripped her thighs, anchoring her to him, unwilling to let her escape the pleasure unravelling between them.

“Aaron,” she choked out, barely able to form words.

His hands squeezed her thighs, keeping her still as his mouth worked her over with slow, intoxicating precision.

“Look at me,” he murmured against her, voice dark and commanding.

Her head lifted, dazed, locking onto his gaze.

The sight alone nearly undid her.

He needed her to see this. To see him. To see how much he wanted this, how much he wanted her.

And when he finally kissed his way back up her body, settling between her legs, her breath hitched at the feeling of him pressed against her, solid and unyielding.

Aaron exhaled sharply, pressing his forehead against hers, voice shaking.

“I’m not rushing this,” he whispered. “I’ve waited too damn long.”

His movements were slow, deliberate, filled with a reverence that made her chest ache.

When he finally sank into her, it wasn’t just the pleasure that stole her breath—it was the emotion behind it.

This wasn’t just about need.

This was everything.

His lips found hers again, swallowing the soft moan that spilled from her throat, his hands exploring her body with a kind of tenderness that left her undone. He moved with an aching slowness, rolling his hips against hers in a way that made her toes curl.

Her arms wrapped around his back, pulling him impossibly closer, grounding herself in his warmth, his scent, the way he whispered her name like it was sacred.

“I love you.”

The words came unbidden, but neither of them flinched.

Because this had never been a question.

Her hand found his cheek, guiding his lips back to hers, pouring everything into that kiss.

“I love you too.”

Aaron’s breath shuddered as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, pressing kisses to her skin between whispered words of devotion.

Their rhythm never faltered.

Their love never wavered.

And when she finally fell apart beneath him, when her body trembled with the force of it, Aaron followed her over the edge, his grip tightening like he never wanted to let go.

And he wouldn’t.

Not now.

Not ever.

The room was quiet, save for the steady hum of their breathing.

No words were needed.

Aaron lay on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other lazily tracing patterns along the curve of her spine. She lay draped over him, cheek pressed against his chest, listening to the slow, rhythmic beat of his heart.

She had never felt safer.

His fingers found her hair, playing with the soft curls with an absentminded tenderness. He let out a long, contented sigh, his voice thick with the remnants of sleep and satisfaction.

“We’re gonna be insufferable to everyone after this.”

She laughed against his skin, her body shaking slightly with the movement. “Oh, absolutely.”

Aaron grinned, tilting his head down to press a kiss into her hair. “Marcus is never gonna let me hear the end of this.”

She lifted her head just enough to meet his eyes, amusement dancing in her own. “Aisha’s been rooting for this since the dawn of time. She might actually cry.”

Aaron chuckled, his fingertips skimming along the dip of her waist. “They were right, though.”

She raised a brow. “About what?”

His gaze softened, his hand stilling over her hip. “About us.”

She swallowed, her heart doing something traitorous in her chest.

Aaron exhaled, shaking his head with a fond smirk. “Remember when we swore we’d never date within the friend group?”

She groaned, burying her face in his chest. “God, we were so adamant.”

“We thought it would be messy.”

She turned her face just enough so he could hear the teasing smile in her voice. “Well… you were pretty messy about it.”

Aaron scoffed, eyes narrowing playfully. “Excuse me?”

She grinned, propping herself up on his chest, her fingers toying with the ends of his curls. “The brooding? The longing stares? The dramatic internal monologues?”

Aaron grabbed her wrist, flipping them effortlessly so she was beneath him again, pinned to the sheets. “You like the way I look at you, though.”

Her breath caught as his gaze swept over her, full of warmth, of something deeper. “Yeah,” she murmured, voice softer now. “I do.”

Aaron dipped his head, kissing her forehead, her cheek, the tip of her nose, before finally brushing his lips over hers in a slow, lingering kiss.

When he pulled back, his thumb ran over the curve of her jaw, tracing it lightly.

“I’ve got you. Always.”

Her heart squeezed, her fingers curling into his back, holding him closer.

They had spent so many years orbiting around each other, lingering at the edge of almost. But now, there was no more hesitation, no more waiting.

They had each other.

And this?

This was only the beginning.

taglist: @writingsbytee @venusincleo @nickidub718 @kxllanxtdoor @random-human02

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[cheolhub]

EVENING GLOW — KIM MINGYU ࿐

summary. you’re having a horrible, no good, very bad day and mingyu wants to do everything he can to make it better.

wc. 4.5k+

warnings. hurt/comfort, overthinking, reader goes through it and cries a lot, allusions to having anxiety, smut! soft bf!mingyu, so much praise (it’s insane), pet names (angel, baby, sweet/pretty girl), reader is v needy and sensitive, a lot of reassurance, hand holding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, slight dumbification, creampie, V SOFT, unprotected sex — MINORS DNI 18+

note. because i love keir ( @jeonghantis ) and bc they deserve the world and all of the stars. also it’s really for anyone who’s had way too many bad days in a row <3 u are very loved (by me and ur fave). also, i lost sight of the plot half way thru this (very common reoccurrence in all of my mingyu fics) so i apologize for that hehsh. i appreciate ur feedback! <3 and yes, this is loosely based off evening glow by wave to earth <33333333 + @toruro i also hope u like this hehehe

bad days aren’t uncommon for you, but you’ve had significantly less since kim mingyu waltzed into your life like the klutz he is. he manages to make every day brighter by simply existing. every smile, every laugh, every touch makes bad days seem like a distant memory.

that’s not to say you don’t still have them because you do. 

you still have days– like today– where it seems like nothing is right. days where you overthink every single thing in your life, ‘am i doing this right?’ ‘does he still love me?’ ‘does any of this even fucking matter?’ days where you want the earth to crack all the way open and swallow you whole. 

those days are beyond harsh. they have you trudging back home with wet lash lines, cloudy vision, and a loud voice in your head that’s begging– pleading– don’t cry, don’t cry, please don’t cry. 

and today… today felt like you went to hell and back. the second your eyes opened, you knew it was going to be one of those days and it truly was a series of rather unfortunate events. you woke up late and alone, you were reprimanded by your boss, you spilled your much-needed coffee during your break, your coworkers were much more hostile than usual, you got yelled at by clients over the phone, your personal phone died halfway through the day because, of course, you forgot to charge it last night, and then, the intrusive thoughts came. the ones that had you overthinking like crazy. 

and it’s not like you could talk to anyone about it (read: talk to mingyu about it). your phone was dead and you hated all of your coworkers, so you were stuck. stuck in limbo, it seemed, mind plagued with horrid thoughts. everything good in your life didn’t feel so good anymore. 

which is why you were practically in tears when you got back home, letting them roll down your face shamelessly as your hand fumbled the keys. you eventually got it into the lock– after steadying your shaky hand– turning the metal and letting yourself in. the second you shut the door, you press your back against it, head in your hands as you let out the soft sobs you've been holding in all day. 

on most of your bad days, you can keep your tears at bay till you make it into the shower. but, on days like today, you just can’t and your sobs echo through the empty apartment, reminding you that you’ll be alone till your boyfriend arrives. it’s not the prettiest sight, though, so you’re partially glad that mingyu misses it since he gets home after you. 

he usually does, at least. 

what you don’t realize is mingyu is home and he’s wandering around the apartment with his brows furrowed, confused as to where the sound of crying is coming from.

and when he sees you at the main entrance with your hands covering your face, he feels the air leave his lungs and his heart almost literally cracks in half. 

he treads carefully, slowly making his way to you. “...baby?”

you’re startled, choking on one of your sobs at the sound of his voice. out of mere embarrassment, you quickly wipe your tears with your sleeve though it does nothing to hide the fact that you actually have been crying. 

“gyu…” you say with a wavering voice, doing your absolute best to keep up your shitty facade. you quickly feel your resolve crumbling as you both stand in awkward silence, so you put your head down to avoid eye contact. “i-i thought you were working?”

he ignores your question and counters with his own, “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

you bite your trembling lip and shake your head, eyes still trained on the floor. 

he walks a few steps closer, now towering over your trembling body, “c’mon, angel. tell me what happened.”

you take a shuddered breath, slowly raising your head to look up at him. he frowns at your bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks and at the fact that all you can say is “hi…” in a nearly-inaudible, yet dulcet voice.

“hi, baby,” he whispers back, hands coming to cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping at your stray tears. “tell me what happened.” he repeats, a bit more demanding this time. 

you deflate, “i just had a bad day… it was nothing.”

he shakes his head at how you invalidate yourself, “it’s not nothing if it’s making you cry, Y/N…” he gently reminds.  “please tell me? i wanna help… if you’ll let me.”

you sigh, leaning into his touch. your eyes flutter close and the words escape you before your brain can process them. you tell him everything trying your hardest to not let your emotions get the best of you. it’s not like mingyu would care if you were crying and blubbering out your words, but you knew he hated seeing you so upset, so you refrain from shedding more tears. 

you try to refrain, at least. you can’t stop the way they helplessly fall when you open your eyes again. “nothing was going right, gyu… my day was so bad that it had me overthinking every little thing.”

“i’m sorry, baby.” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. “i’m so sorry i wasn’t there for you.”

you shake your head profusely, swallowing the lump you feel in your throat, “n-no! no, please, it’s not your fault, gyu, i swear. my phone died, so it’s not like you could’ve known anyway.”

he pulls away from you, hands coming down to hold yours. “what did you think about?” 

you squeeze his hands, “a lot of things…”

“like?” he frowns, pressing further.

you look away, mumbling out a lie, “i dunno. it was a lot… i can’t really remember right now. ”

truth be told, you didn’t want to admit the anxiety-induced thoughts you had earlier knowing he’d worry. if he heard half the ones you had about your relationship, you know he’d probably break down himself. you’re well aware mingyu loves you more than anything on earth because he never fails to remind you.

but sometimes, the tiny voice in the back of your head– the one that says he’s too good to be true– gets a bit too loud and you tend to forget all his little reminders– all the ‘i love you’s’ he whispers into your ear right before bed, all the kisses he peppers onto your face, all the hugs where he squeezes the life out of you. 

“you don’t have to tell me what you thought about, but i do want to tell you something,” he starts, a small smile making its way onto his pretty lips. he leans into you, with a voice so small as he says, “i love you. and i know i suffocate you with it sometimes, but it’s true. i love you so much. please don’t ever doubt that.”

you nod, sniffling, “i know.” 

his smile grows, “and?...”

your lips curve up a bit and you whisper, “and i love you, too.”

“you better not forget it,” he playfully jokes, forehead resting on yours again. “you know i love you the most, though.”

you giggle softly, shaking your head. “you always turn it into a competition. you know it isn’t right?”

“i know it isn’t, but i do.” he confirms, voice tender and a bit hushed. “i want you to remember that the next time you think too hard. i love my pretty girl the most… more than anything. i’d do anything to keep you happy. wanna see that pretty smile everyday.”

the genuinity– the love– that drips from his words has you weak. the words replay in your head over and over almost as if it’s on a constant loop.

i love my pretty girl. 

my pretty girl.

your breath hitches at the unanticipated pet name, remembering the sweet, innocent way it rolled off his tongue. you know you probably shouldn’t feel this way, but it doesn’t stop the way you squeeze your thighs together, pussy pulsing at the mere term of endearment. you’re almost sure mingyu can feel the heat radiating off your skin, yet he does nothing. he stands still, warm, brown eyes staring at your tear-stained face.

so you take matters into your own hands. 

you stand tall and lean into him. your nose brushes against his and the proximity between the two of you closes quickly. i want to be kissed, your face reads– begs– and he finally sees that, obliging reluctantly. 

his eyes flutter and his lips graze against yours before you take the lead and close the gap for him. as his mouth collides with yours, you feel warmth erupt in your body and you relish it.

the kiss is soft. gentle. it nearly has you melting under him.

but the longer his lips mold against yours, the longer his tongue roams the inside of your mouth, the needier you get. it’s like all your worries wash away. all the bad thoughts evaporate into thin air. all you can think about is the everlasting love you have for the man before you and the incessant love he has for you, too.

you untangle your hands from his in favor of pawing at his chest, nails digging into the cotton fabric of his shit and slightly biting into his skin. 

you’re slowly, yet surely losing your mind. the kiss deepens and all the coherent thoughts you had minutes prior are being pushed to the back as mingyu is on the forefront of your mind. you’re overcome with need for him. need for him to make you forget everything. need for him to fuck you till all you can think about him and the way his cock makes you feel.

and mingyu knows this, of course. he knows with the way you claw at him and how you whimper desperately as if you’ve been deprived from his touch for far too long. 

it’s why he doesn’t make you beg for it. instead he’s pulling away, watching you chase his lips while he breathlessly asks, “you sure you wanna do this, baby?” he looks so enamored with you. there’s no doubt you look like a complete mess right now, but it’s like he sees past it. past the tears, past the red eyes, past all the sadness. 

“please,” you whisper, sniffling again. 

he murmurs okay against your lips before grabbing your hand and guiding you to your shared room. 

he diligently strips you of your clothing, first your pants then your shirt. his fingers skillfully popping the buttons on your blouse and slipping it off your body, letting it fall into a pool on the ground. 

“so beautiful,” he whispers, massive hands immediately moving to grope your tits through your bra. “you’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N.” 

his words linger in the air and you feel them. you feel beautiful when he stares at you half naked in your cotton panties and mismatched bra. you feel beautiful with your puffy eyes and snotty nose. mingyu makes you feel so beautiful even in your most unfavorable moments. 

you whimper at his heavy hands, your own tugging at the ends of his shirt, wordlessly begging for the fabric to join the other clothes on the ground. he obliges immediately, practically ripping it off of himself before his hands are back on you. 

he pulls your bra down, letting your tits spill out, kneading at the flesh with hearts in his eyes. a breathy version of his name comes out of your mouth– 

and the sound makes his cock ache. his body yearns and begs to be inside of you. so much so that it has him swiftly unclasping your bra before gently pushing you onto the bed. he thinks it’s gentle, at least. mingyu tends to forget his strength so his gentle can be your rough. 

it doesn’t matter, it never has. every single act mingyu performs for you is one that comes from a place of love. he’s a benevolent man, not a single malicious bone lives in his hand-crafted body. 

“gyu,” you whisper, hand slipping in between your thighs to work on your clothed clit as he towers over you. at your own contact, you feel a shock run through your body and your back just slightly arches off the bed. “need you.”

he curses under his breath, suddenly unable to breathe in his loose house shorts. he hooks his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and presenting his leaky, hard cock to you. 

and the sight has your entire body going hot. you throw your head back against the plush pillows and moan out his name, louder this time, fingers moving faster against your clit– though it would feel so much better if he finally put his hands on you. or better yet, his cock inside of you. 

“gyu,” you drag out his name in a cry and you finally feel the bed dip under his weight.

“i know, baby,” he whispers, hand moving yours away from your soaked panties in favor of replacing it. when his bigger fingers begin to rub circles into the covered bud, you gasp and let yours grasp at the sheets under you. “i know you need me. i’ve got you.” he reassures you, voice shaky as he notices just how wet you are. “gonna make you feel so good, don’t worry.”

but you don’t realize how sensitive you are because the second his hand slips inside your panties, his warm hand finding your heated cunt, fresh tears spring to your eyes. “oh, fuck,” you shudder, shaking underneath him. 

“you’re so wet,” he mutters the obvious, fingers dipping in between your folds to collect your slick before pulling his hand out. 

“don’t tease me,” you plead weakly.

he frowns, shaking his head, “i’m not– i won’t,” he tells you softly, rolling your panties off your body and down your legs. he tosses the cotton material over to join the other articles of clothing on the ground before his hands spread your legs open, displaying you for himself. “i told you that i got you, pretty girl, i promise.” 

you give him a broken nod, squirming in discomfort.

his hand is back on your pussy in no time, tapping at your drooling hole with two of his fingers. “this still okay?”

you nod again, “yes, gyu.”

he leans down, lips meeting yours as he presses into you with his index and middle fingers. he’s quick to swallow your moan as he stretches you open, feeling the way your gummy walls invite and welcome him in. 

your kiss is more fervent this time around. you can feel his need, the way he shoves his tongue into your mouth, messy and uncoordinated. it has you trapping his fingers between your wet walls, grinding with all your might against his hand. 

you have no clue how he manages to multi-task, both finger-fucking and kissing you into oblivion, but he does both without fail. you whine desperately against his lips, one of your hands coming to wrap around his wrist in hopes to support yourself. 

the wet squelching of your cunt fills the room and it has him pulling away from you for a second to groan out, “you hear that, angel? pretty pussy takin’ my fingers so fuckin’ well.”

you clench around him again, enveloping him as if your life depended on it– you feel so fucking good–

and yet you crave more. it feels good, yes, mingyu always has you seeing stars, but you need more. more of his fingers, more of him. and mingyu is probably well aware of the fact with the way your pussy swallows his fingers, but you know he’s reluctant about giving you too much because of… prior events.

you want that– you want too much. you want to forget about your shitty day. the only thing you want to think about, the only thing you want to be all-consumed by in this very moment, is mingyu. 

“m-more–” you whine against his lips as he wildly pushes in and out of your messy cunt. 

fingers unfaltering in speed, he pulls away from you breathlessly, lips wet and swollen. “more, baby?” 

“mhm,” you give him pleading eyes as you whisper, “wanna cum.”

“fuck,” he mumbles, nodding his head mindlessly as if your words put him into a daze. his fingers pull out and his ring finger joins the two that are already covered in your slick. they push into you slowly, effectively opening you up. “how’s this, beautiful? this enough?” 

you pant, clamping around the digits, squeezing them like a vice. “m-min-” you muffle your moan with your hand, more tears stinging in your eyes.

“no?” he asks, an endearing grin on his face. he maneuvers till he’s in between your legs, he moves further down the bed and your heart thumps erratically in your chest. 

it’s when his lips wrap around your clit while he concurrently thrusts his fingers into your sopping heat that you let out an ear-splitting moan. you lace your fingers into his silky hair and tug at his roots without a care. 

he winces and moans against you at the feeling, the pain making his cock throb against the bed. 

your mind escapes you, melting at the pleasure. his tongue flicks at the sensitive, swollen bud while his fingers curl against your sweet spot, pushing you closer and closer to the edge and you’re on the brink of pure ecstasy. 

“s-so close, fuck, i’m close, gyu.” you babble breathlessly. 

he moans again, tirelessly continuing his brutal attack on your pussy, but the sound waves of said moans shock your entirety and teeter right over the edge. your vision goes black for a solid minute, only a few specks of white in sight, your blinding orgasm taking your entire body over. 

you jerk under him, back arching as you release all over his fingers, the tightrope in your tummy completely unraveling and allowing you to soak his fingers in your syrupy arousal. his mouth moves down as he pulls out and slurps you up obnoxiously, eating you out as you cum.

and you can’t stop shaking, not even after he’s pulled his mouth and fingers away from you. your body twitches and writhes like he’s been working you for hours and mingyu, astounded, has never seen you like this– well, he definitely has– not after a single orgasm, at least.

he shudders, body burning with need. the taste of you alone has his brain a bit fuzzy. “are… you okay? was it too much?” he manages to ask, voice strained. 

mingyu thinks his question falls on deaf ears when all he hears is your heaving and tiny whimpers. he moves to clean you up, partially worried he overstimulated you, but then you make grabby hands at the large, flushed man.

he leans into your touch, allowing you to grab on to him, “what’s wrong?” 

when he looks into your eyes, glassy and glazed over, he notices the hint of need. the pinch of pure desperation. he sees the way you wordlessly ask for more of him, how you wordlessly ask for him to just fuck you already– he can’t deny you. not with the year-long day you’ve had or with the way his cock is basically begging to stuff you full. 

he pecks your lips and sits up again. a soft chuckle escapes him as you chase him for another kiss, but it quickly turns into a sharp breath when he looks down at your puffy, pulsing pussy. you’re crying for him, that much is obvious, but your pussy is just weeping. 

an endless trail of arousal continues to drool out of you and it’s so enticing… yet it feels so tantalizing… 

he feels a bit guilty for being this hard, for wanting to fuck you so bad. it’s in his good nature. you’ve told him countless times that it’s okay, that you need him, but he just wants to make sure. 

“are you sure?” he whispers, so soft that you could almost miss it. “we can just go to bed if you’re not up for this, Y/N.”

you can tell that mingyu is fighting inner turmoil. you know he always feels guilty for fucking you stupid. today, though, you’re sure he feels guilty for the other things. 

you don’t want him to. he shouldn’t feel guilty for something beyond his control, so you muster up all your strength and, in a wavered voice, tell him, “i want you… always want you.”

you hear his breath of relief and see the wobbly smile on his face and you mirror it. he’s quickly ridding his mind of the guilt and shame at your reassurance and lining himself up with your hole. he slides the tip of his cock between your lips and revels in the way you jolt gently. 

“deep breath f’me,” he mutters, knowing you’ll need it. when he hears your shaky inhale, he takes one of his own right as he pushes into you. “fuck,” he says breathlessly. you’re still so fucking tight around him.

a broken whine bubbles up in the back of your throat and mingyu watches the way your eyes screw shut and your jaw goes slack. beautiful, he thinks to himself. even when you’re fucked out of your mind.  

he finds the strength to push past the resistance, slowly shoving himself inside of you till his pelvis meets yours.

when he bottoms out, your face contorts and you’re spluttering over your words, “s-so big,” 

he nods his head like he knows. “i know, baby,” he murmurs, sliding one of his hands into yours. “but you’re so good for me, always take me so well.” he whispers this time as he’s leaning down, moving your intertwined hands next to your head on the pillow. his free hand cups your heated cheek and he studies you for a few minutes, cock fully sheathed inside of you. 

he watches your face change as you become accustomed to the size of him, how your contorted, pained face relaxes as the minutes pass. when your eyes flutter open and you whimper his name, “gyu…” he pulls out a tiny bit before pushing back in– something of an experimental thrust– and discerns your positive reaction. 

he repeats his actions, inching out a bit more and sliding back in with ease. his eyes observe you intently, noticing every reaction you make as he drives his cock in and out of you, each one going deeper than the last. 

his hand squeezes yours and his lips graze against yours, “feel good?” he asks, breath fanning over your face. 

“uh-huh, so good,” you respond in a pant. “th-thank you.”

he falters a bit, but continues to deliver his deep and calculated thrusts. “why are you thanking me, angel?”

“for taking care of me.” 

mingyu’s heart swells and nearly bursts right then and there. his smile practically reaches his ears because mingyu, admittedly, loves being the cause of your pleasure. he’s a giver. he always has been. 

it makes his hips move faster, his hips flushing to yours with every stroke. the bed squeaks under you, loud and annoyingly high-pitched. neither of you are bothered by the sound as you’re wrapped up within each other– you’re moaning and whining for more and more against his lips and he’s promising to deliver through deep groans and grunts against yours. 

and he does deliver. the tip of his cock kisses your cervix and it knocks the wind out of your lungs. you squeeze the hand in yours and your other comes to claw at his body. you dig your nails into the flesh of his arm, biting into him in favor of leaving crescent shapes on his smooth skin. 

he hisses, but the subtle sting just spurs him on. that and the way your pussy contracts around him.

“oh fuck,” you whisper, a high-pitched whine following the words. you’re so sensitive from your previous orgasm that it’s making all too much. your body is buzzing and the familiar knot is forming quicker than usual. “mingyu– mingyu, i-i’m so close.”

he nods, breathing out, “it’s okay, baby– cum for me. you deserve it.” you deserve everything you want, he fails to add. 

you don’t hold back, completely unraveling under him. you’re easily reduced to a mess, gushing all over his cock while you mewl a mantra of his name. your brain leaves you for a solid minute as you mindlessly babble out thank you’s and i love you’s. 

he pulls away from your lips as he watches you come undone. he’s truly so enraptured by you. with your tear-stained cheeks and the drool that trails past your bruised lips. when you tell him you love him– almost incoherently– his dick twitches in your spasming cunt. 

“i love you.” he groans, swiftly rocking into you. you’re sobbing in overstimulation, but he eases you with more praise. “you’re so good, fuck, so perfect. i love you so bad.”

his hand leaves your cheek, instead grabbing your free hand and intertwining your fingers. he pins your hands next to your head, just like the other, and continues fucking you. 

“my pretty girl,” he murmurs, holding your contrastingly smaller hands tightly. “i’m gonna cum inside… you want that right?”

the question triggers your mind back to life. “please,” you moan weakly. “n-need it.”

he twitches again, a throaty groan coming out of him before he gasps. his entire body stiffens before he presses himself all the way inside of you. his groans and grunts distort to needy moans as ropes of his seed paint the velvet walls of your convulsing heat. 

he attempts to control his breathing. after a minute straight of panting and whining, his heaving chest slows and falls into a steady rhythm. 

“are you okay?” he pants, pulling out of you, body still hovering over yours. “was it too much…”

your lips turn up into a tiny, sweet smile and nod your head, “‘m okay, baby.”

“good,” he whispers, leaning in and kissing your lips.

he releases you from his grasp and falls next to you, trying to recover more before cleaning you up. he sighs, soothing a hand over your skin and you scoot into him.

“i wanna help you,” mingyu starts with the softest voice you’ve ever heard after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “you can always tell me when you’re having one of these days, baby… you know that right?”

“i know,” you nod, mindlessly tracing shapes onto his bare chest. 

“i’m always gonna be here for you… as long as you’ll have me.”

“i know.” you repeat, words whispered this time. “you always make the days better– make them shine– you literally have a heart of gold, mingyu.” 

he chuckles, “i don’t,”

“no, you do. just trust me. if we cut you open right now for open heart surgery, there’d be 24 karat gold in the shape of a human heart inside of you.” you tell him.

mingyu smiles widely. happily. 

“just remember that this heart is all yours, angel.” 

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

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[livelaughlovesubs]

Hiii, Nini! Can I please request a Sigma x male reader fic with impact play? We've seen Sigma in fics getting absolutely decimated by the reader LMAO- I almost feel bad, so here's a twist, this is light impact play. Instead of spanks/floggers he can brace for, nope, feathers that make him jump out of his skin every time, giggling despite himself because wtf he's taken so much worse-. I think he'd absolutely lose it with the lighter/gentler stuff more so than the harder stuff purely because of how flustered he'd get XD. Ps I'm making it canon, you cannot look at him and tell me that stressed-as-hell man ain't ticklish.

Ahhhh so true!!! I imagine him as very sensitive and ticklish as well, like 🤤🤤 also since the gender wasn’t mentioned anywhere, you can interpret it however you want :]

Dom!reader x sub!sigma - reader is gn neutral

Warning: tickling/soft impact play, teasing, humiliation, slight dacryphilia (can’t write a fic without good’ol dacryphilia), using his hair as a brush???

Edit: started & finished this in the middle of the night, I’m so tired and I didn’t proof read it, also my brain is cooked idk what I did here

It’s been too quiet these days. Too boring, too mundane, too relaxing. There were many adjectives that would fit this little dilemma you were facing, called ‘dying of boredom’. You’ve been waiting around for your sweetheart to make a mistake, just so you’d have a reason to punish him. Yet how could it be that he’s so perfect in every way possible? You weren’t even exaggerating or meaning to sing his praises, heck you wanted him to be a little more human!

Otherwise you couldn’t think of a good reason to pull him out of his busy schedule, just to have him all to yourself, in such a selfish way. He wouldn’t agree, everyone knows how he puts his work above everything else. Such a horrible work ethic he has. Whatever, no one is perfect, even the manager of the sky casino will have to slip up somewhere, and you were way too eager to find it.

Sigma was just signing some documents as you watched him over his shoulder, taking sneaky peeks as if he hasn’t noticed you already. At this point he was probably wondering what you were doing. It didn’t bother you in the slightest, in fact, you knew due to you being so close, he’d get nervous and overthinking again. Something along the lines of: Did you want something from him? Why were you watching him all silently, so creepily?

And there it was— what you’ve been waiting for! “Sigma~ gosh, you clumsy thing! You wrote down the wrong date there, look.” You pointed it out a little too enthusiastically, eyes sparkling like morning sunlight, reflecting how excited you were. He glanced at you funnily, probably baffled why you were so happy about it. “Ah- yes, I see, uhh.. thanks, y/n.” Sigma furrowed his brows for a split second, then turned his attentions back to the papers. Though before he could continue writing, you snatched the pen out of his hand.

“Nope, you made a mistake sigma, and such a simple one as well. Tsk tsk tsk.” You faked a disappointment sigh, and facepalmed, putting your acting skills to use, “I’ll need to punish you, don’t you think?” So that’s what you’ve been waiting for, and probably the reason why you were so full of glee earlier. “A-are you serious..? For such a small thing?” Sigma looked taken aback, leaning his head back until he met your eyes. A slight blush was already convering his pale cheeks, such a naughty boy, he was excited as well.

“Why of course, it was a grave mistake after all. Stand up.” He was more ready to comply than you thought, not making any fuss as he stood up. “Good boy, now sit on the table.” You moved the chair away, pinning his body between your arms and gripping the edge of the furniture. Sigma glanced at you a few times, seemingly surprised with your demand. To be honest he expected you to bend him over your lap. This was fine as well, in fact, this position would prove itself to be more comfortable than what he initially predicted.

You were close, all up in his intimate space. He swore he could feel the heat radiating off your body. A slight blush covered his cheeks as he waited for your orders, already feeling the effects you had on him. It was almost terrifying how much control you had with just a few words. “Come on, you know how it goes. Strip.” After waiting for what felt like forever, you smirked as you whispered to him. “Ah- right. Sorry.” The boy replied half-minded, hands moving up to unbutton his vest.

This wouldn’t have been all that humiliating if it wasn’t for the fact that you were staring him up and down like some prey, watching his every move as he peeled off one layer after another. “Can’t you.. look in the other way?” He muttered in a meek voice, currently taking his pants off. “I’ve seen you nude plenty times darling,” you reached for his hands and helped him undress, “why are you still embarrassed?”

“You- stop teasing me..” The way his face flushed even more while he desperately tried to shake your hands off was so precious, you couldn’t stop grinning. “Ever thought it’s part of the punishment?” You asked, grabbing his thighs and spreading them apart. They were soft to the touch, and so squishy, his skin was flawless. “Ah-ahh… I’m- I’m really getting punished… over that little mistake?” He bawled his hands into fists, biting his lips to stop the trembling.

“I mean what I said.” He inhaled shakily, and breathed an equally unsure exhale. Eyes glossed over and half-lidded, body burning under your every touch. Poor boy was just preparing for the worst. You gave him a reassuring smile, then raised your hand right over his thighs. So it was going to be spanking, he thought and squeezed his eyes together. To his surprise, instead of the painful slap he expected, he was met with a teasing one. In response his body twitched involuntarily, and his eyes ripped open.

He didn’t flinch because of the pain, no there was no pain to speak of. There were only a soft, faintly red mark that gradually appeared on his inner thigh. Pretty much nothing worth mentioning, you left more marks when you grabbed his skin to spread his legs. “Erm… Y/n?” He couldn’t help but question your actions. That was a slip up, right? He’s taken so much worse, compared to all that you were basically caressing him.

Suddenly, another slap, though just as soft and gentle as the first one, making him jump out of his seat. “Wait- y/n, what are you doing?” It was such a light slap, can you even call it one? Wouldn’t tap be a more fitting description? “Punishing you. Why, do you want to be bullied instead?” You teased, followed by another slap, this time on the other thigh, and his toes curled. Why did this feel even more embarrassing than anything else? The sound was way louder and more dramatic than the actual impact.

“Ah- no but, seriously, what are you doing?” Out of nowhere you slapped his chest, once again it wasn’t painful in the slightest. He tensed together, still able to feel your touch in the places you’ve touched. “Shhh, be good and endure it for me, alright?” Instead of answering him, you stroked his fluffy hair, and smiled all self confident. The look on his face screamed confusion, but he trusted you, and so he simply swallowed the lump in his throat.

You grabbed a strain of his hair, one of the longer locks, sliding your hand through them, a little amazed at how untangled his hair was. As soon as you reached the ends, you held it fairly firm in your hand, and used it like a brush to graze over his skin. First over his cheeks just to annoy him, earning yourself a glare from him, then a feather-light brush over his nipples. He really didn’t know where you were going with this, but god did it rile him up.

It tickled, and it was so foreign, he couldn’t help but subconsciously clench his thighs together. Hands trembling from clenching his fists too hard, the pounding of his own heart echoing in his ears. You made sure to not touch him anywhere except with your hands, which made him all the more sensitive. Those touches were driving him mad, and that fact itself made him all the more flustered. You were barely doing anything, how could it be that he wanted to cry amidst all these sensations?

Soft, muffled whimpers slipped from his swollen lips, he arched his back forward whenever everything became too much. “Hnng- please, ah.. stop the t-teasing…! Hmm..!!” You carefully traced a line down his belly, resting your makeshift brush around his pelvis and moving it in a circling motion. As if all this wasn’t humiliating enough, he now knew why you had him sit on the table. All so you could observe his every move, every shameful expression and listen to every shaky breath he exhaled.

“Look at you getting all excited just from a few touches, you are way more needy than you’d like to admit, aren’t you?” “HnnGh..~ p-please.. ah-!!”He whined again, feeling you finally, finally giving his neglected dick some attention. Only using one finger to lazily rub his tip a few times, before using his hair to brush over the already sticky gland. His precum slowly dribbled from his slit, down his shaft before getting smeared around by you. “So messy.” Was all you had to say.

“Y/n, y-you’re so Mnn.. mean,” he squirmed around, shaking his head as tears rolled down his crimson cheeks, “I-i wanna cum…” you tilted your head to the side, sliding the bush of hair over his inner thighs, “that’s not how you ask for things, baby.” Then you used your other hand to rub his tears away, it ended up with him crying even more. “Such a crybaby, why don’t you try asking nicely?”

He gulped, trying to cease the sobbing for a moment, bending forwards as he let his head drop. The shame was eating at him, but he really couldn’t do this anymore~ which is why he looked up at you like a lost puppy, with glistening eyes and rosy lips, shaking ever so slightly as he begged, “please.. ha-Ahhh…I-i wanna cum♥︎ please m-make me c-cum..!!♡♡♥︎”

You smiled, staying quiet for a moment to raise the intensity and anticipation, then wrapped your arms around his shivering body. “You’ve been so good for me, and good boys deserve to be rewarded.”

[nakahras]

᯽ wet dreamz • osamu dazai

synopsis • you’ve been having some dubious dreams about one (1) osamu dazai and you let it slip.

warnings • swearing, lucid dreaming, fem!reader, ņsfw, dazai (he needs his own warning, yes), nickname “bella” is used, hair pulling, some light hand stuff/teasing, oral (f -> m), no set dynamic (both parties switch), masturbation (f), clothed sex, edging, finger sucking, slight choking, creampie, overstimulation, pussy drunk dazai, this is a long one >.<, also mildly unedited

wc • 6.8k

a/n • ahahahaha i don’t know

his hands are all over you, all at once, but it’s still not enough. you can’t pinpoint why because in all honesty it should be borderline overwhelming. but it’s not.

maybe you’re just greedy. you’ve been waiting for this for so long that you’ve been dreaming about it. dreaming? something washes over you and, once again, you can’t place it. you shake it off internally. how could you pay anything much attention when what you should be paying attention to is the man underneath you pawing at your skin.

he’s demanding all of your attention and you’ll gladly give it to him. you don’t remember how you got here, or how you got his shirt off but you dip down and kiss his exposed and surprisingly sun kissed skin. everything is blurry, the feeling of his skin under your lips, the image of him shirtless underneath you and the sensation of his nimble fingers kneading at your ass. 

before you can overthink it, he gets impatient and guides your hips to grind down on his hardened crotch. your mind is the next thing to become blurry. you straighten up and throw your head back as the sensation of the friction overtakes your senses. you want more, need more.

as if the brunette could read your mind, he’s tugging at your panties. it’s only then that you realize, he’s pantless as well. things felt like they were going too fast and also too slow all at once. you sit yourself back down on his length and continue to grind down on him.

your head is swimming and distantly you hear ringing in your ears. you ignore it though, the sounds of his moans drowning out any other noise. his grip on your bottom tightens and he lifts your hips up expertly aligning himself with your entrance.

he’s about to sit you back down and stretch you out but the ringing gets louder and everything goes white.

᯽•᯽

you woke this morning in a pool of your own sweat — thighs rubbing together desperately seeking out the same sensations you experienced in your dream. 

now you’re sitting at your desk feeling extremely embarrassed and, frankly, frustrated that you had yet another wet dream about your coworker, dazai osamu. 

you let out a huff while typing up a report on yesterday’s case. of all people in this office it just had to be the most insufferable of them all. why did he have to be so gorgeous? why couldn’t you think the same of kunikida? hell, even ranpo would have been a better choice than dazai. you think your subconscious is cruel. laughing at you, making fun of you by giving you wet dreams. you felt like a fucking teenager. hell, you don’t think you even had wet dreams when you were an adolescent going through puberty. how utterly embarrassing.

you let out yet another exasperated sigh, brows furrowed and fingers typing furiously. you were making a spectacle and your deskmates had long since noticed your sour mood. atsushi and kunikida were the smart ones, they simply let you be, figuring if you wanted to talk about it you would bring it up. 

dazai, however, is nosey. his natural curiosity always getting the better of him. he builds a simple paper airplane and shoots it through the air. it lands right on your keyboard and your aggressive typing finally ceases. you stare at the airplane as if you’ve never seen one in your entire life. you refuse to look up, fearing that if you look at dazai you’ll be reminded of what your subconscious thinks of him. you don’t think you can handle that quite yet.

dazai watches, slightly perturbed, as you seem to try to make his little creation spontaneously combust. no matter how unsettling, dazai still isn’t deterred. atsushi shoots him a warning look, as if to say this wasn’t a good idea. the brunette blatantly ignores the boy and wheels himself over to your part of the desk, which was a show in itself since you’re on the complete opposite side of where he was sat. that means dazai has to push himself past either atsushi or kunikida. of course, him being the menace that he is, dazai chooses the harder path of going around kunikida.

you don’t see it because you’re still having a staring contest with your little gift but kunikida’s eye twitches as dazai swivels past him. the blonde was going to take the high road though. he was going to let it slide since you seemed to need the distraction. but dazai was clumsy and clipped his wheels on the ones of his partner’s chair. kunikida’s eye twitches and he can’t help himself.

”dazai…” it’s a simple warning. one that the brown eyed detective promptly ignores.

dazai makes it to you without another hitch and gingerly reaches over to replace the airplane with a paper rose.

you blink. stare some more. then finally look up. “dazai, what the fuck?” 

“oh c’mon, bella. you’ve been in a mood all day. i thought a rose would cheer you up enough to tell me what’s got you in such a sulky mood.” dazai pouts at you and it takes everything in you to look away for your sanity.

you can feel your cheeks heating up by just the small interaction. if these dreams persist, you’re not sure you can keep your composure. you were barely hanging on by a thread as it was. you distantly think maybe it’s your subconscious telling you that you need to get laid. you almost scoff at the thought.

yes. it has been some time since you last slept with someone, but there is no way that was causing the dreams. if that was the case you would be having dreams about more than just dazai. he was simply plaguing your mind and you think you might go insane if this kept going on. 

so instead of dealing with it like a sane person, because you aren’t right now, you decide to take it out on the very man that has been haunting your mind. “i’m trying to get my work done and i’m certainly not in the mood. go bother atsushi if you’re bored, dazai.”

you hear a small complaint come from across the desk and look up to see atsushi giving you an accusatory expression. you immediately feel guilty for throwing him under the bus and finally relax for the first time all day. you toss the weretiger an apologetic smile then whip around to glare at dazai for a moment.

”i changed my mind. you’re buying me lunch at the cafe. let’s go.” you don’t give dazai any time to answer. you save your work, shut your laptop and promptly stand up and walk off. you weren’t going to give dazai any room to argue. you figured if he didn’t follow then he wasn’t that curious and you got to enjoy a break in silence.

unfortunately you hear dance-like footsteps coming from behind you, indicating that dazai was, in fact, following. you both step into the elevator and about halfway down dazai finally opens his mouth.

”so, what’s got a beautiful woman such as yourself in such a mood today?” his smile is lazy and eyes dull.

you hate this. you hate when he acts like this. you do genuinely like dazai, just not this version of him. the shut off version, the one that puts on a facade and plays with people for fun. you don’t have much time to think about it though. the elevator jolts to a sudden stop and dings, indicating that you’ve made it to the ground floor. you scurry out of the small space and make your way to the cafe. 

when you enter your mood instantly sours seeing that it wasn’t lucy in today, but rather the waitress dazai is always making eyes at and wistfully requesting her to perform a double suicide with him. you muster up a smile to offer the owner and wave at him before taking your seat at one of the booths. dazai plops himself on the other side across from you.

the waitress comes over and you brace yourself for the encounter that’s about to transpire. dazai watches you closely, head tilting to the side curiously. 

“welcome, detectives, what can i get you started with today?” her smile is sweet and you feel bad for your previous annoyance. it’s not her fault dazai doesn’t understand the art of subtlety. 

dazai speaks up before you can get a chance to. “go on, bella, you order whatever you want.” dazai addresses his attention to the waitress next. “everything will be going on my tab, miss waitress.”

”how very generous of you, mr. dazai. i assume you finally invested in that life insurance policy i recommended?” her smile is sweet but her words are clipped and condescending. you let out a little snort as dazai starts to sweat a little. 

before dazai can quip back, you order. “i’ll take an iced latte and the sandwich of the day, please.”

“of course miss. what about you, mr. dazai?”

dazai almost shrinks at her faux warm demeanor. “i’ll just take a cup of coffee.” 

you raise your brow at him disapprovingly and before the waitress can scurry off you quickly get out, “can you make sure my sandwich is cut in half?”

she smiles at you genuinely and nods her head. after she walks off you catch dazai staring at you once again. you know he’s about to speak again and you dread whatever it is that’s going to fall from those surprisingly full lips of his. 

“so, are you going to tell me what’s gotten your panties in a twist all day?”

nice.

how eloquent of him. 

you scowl at him and hiss out, “could you not refer to it as that?”

”sorry, bella. would you rather i ask why you’ve been so sour all day in a different way?” dazai grins at you clearly pleased at getting a rise out of you. 

you huff and roll your eyes. “would you believe me if i told you it’s because i had a dream of you?”

”oh? did you now? what was the dream about? you must regale me with all of the details.” dazai sets his elbows on the table in between the two of you. his fingers intertwine and he rests his head atop his hands. 

it’s almost eerie, the way he’s looking at you but you can’t quite place why. you wince internally realizing your mistake. how the hell are you supposed to tell dazai that you fantasized about— no. you didn’t fantasize, it was a dream. a creation of your subconscious. not of your control. you want to shrivel up and die. 

how the hell are you supposed to explain that to dazai?

you don’t. it’s the only sane reasoning you can come up with. but now you have to scramble to come up with something to dazai. the longer you just blankly stare at him the more suspicious he’s going to get. you can see it in the way his eyes become hooded and his right brow shifts up.

dazai perks up a bit and, oh god, here it comes. the realization you’ve been dreading. “don’t tell me you dreamt about me in that way.” he hums dramatically. “what a naughty girl, thinking about your colleague in such a way~”

you involuntary freeze. sure you knew this was coming but there is no way he saw through you that easily. he came to that conclusion so fast and you know for a fact you aren’t an easy person to read unless you want someone to. he couldn’t have just picked up on your thoughts like that. no, you have to remind yourself this is dazai osamu. he could have done exactly that. regardless, you refuse to admit it to yourself, let alone dazai.

“absolutely n-“ you’re cut off by the waitress dropping off your drinks and the sandwich. 

clearly she understood what you meant by your earlier request because she brings you an extra plate. you thank her one more time before she walks off. placing the slightly bigger half of the sandwich on the extra plate and scooting it towards dazai.

“eat.” he looks at you curiously but obliges when you give him an expectant glare.

you know he won’t drop the previous subject but luckily for you he’s too busy with eating to make much conversation. you both enjoy your respective halves of the delicious sandwich in silence. it was peaceful, a stark contrast to what usually transpired when you’re with dazai. you observe him quietly, subtly, as you chew on the last bite of your food.

he’s picking at the bread after only two bites. his coffee was finished within the first few minutes of it being set in front of him. a clear avoidance. keeping himself busy with sipping on his coffee so he wouldn’t have to eat. the few bites were to appease you. unfortunately for him you know all of those tricks, maybe a little too well.

you cross your arms over your chest and think about this tactically, you know if you scold him outright he’ll brush it off easily. you have to think like him for a moment. what would he do if your positions were switched.

playing dumb. “you know, it’s not very polite to let a lady eat more than you…” 

you pout and look away from him, trying to seem embarrassed. you’re not sure if it’s worked. you’re honestly too nervous to look. you think it must look real because you’re now actually embarrassed by the probably god awful acting you just displayed.

but then you hear distinct chewing and peak over to something that pleasantly surprises you. he’s taken another two bites, significantly larger than the last two, because he’s almost finished with the sandwich by the time you fully turn to look at him. 

for the first time all day you finally crack a smile at him and let out a fit of giggles. dazai almost chokes on the sandwich from the sound alone. it’s a sound he’ll never get used to nor will he ever get tired of it. you’re too busy trying to calm your giggles to notice dazai’s internal struggle as he finishes off his own food all the while staring at you in amazement.

you take a few calming breaths and look at him, still all smiles. dazai resists the urge to clutch his chest, something in it stirs — an extremely alarming and foreign sensation for him. dazais nerves are suddenly on fire. he suddenly recalls what you said earlier, how you dreamt about him. he knows you planned on denying his earlier implications but the way you paused makes him think you were having those types of dreams about him. 

dazai’s fingers twitch at his sides. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think of you like that. hell, he’d probably have the same types of dreams if he actually dreamt. dazai’s breathing shallows and he need to get away from you. his self control thinning with each passing second he thinks about you in the most intimate of ways. 

he knows it’s wrong. at least in your case you can’t control it. but here his is, shamelessly fantasizing about you like you aren’t sat right in front of him. dazai disgusts himself. he wants to bash his head in, his thoughts swimming, making it hard for him to focus. vision blurring and ears rushing like there’s water stuck in them.

dazai abruptly stands up and announces, “we should get back to work. kunikida will get on us if we take any longer.”

you’re so perplexed because when has dazai ever cared about what kunikida thinks about? then you notice it, the unmistakable bulge straining against the crotch of his pants. you swear you didn’t mean to look, it was just currently at eye level. you’re suddenly given an opportunity, something you need to make a decision on and quickly. 

as calmly as you can, you slide out of the booth and wave to the owner and waitress before grasping onto dazai’s hand and dragging the brunette away with you. dazai is far too dazed to protest at how assertive you’re being. you lead the way to the elevator and the ride there is painstakingly quiet and slow. the second the contraption dings and the doors begin to open you’re slipping through with dazai still in tow.

the lanky man is thoroughly confused when, instead of going back to the office, you shove the two of you in the supply closet. he wants to ask but something tells him he doesn’t need to. your body language gives way that you’re going to explain yourself.

thank god there’s a lock on the inside of this room. you really did not want to relocate to the bathroom for this. dazai is still dazed, unsure of what’s happening, just letting you toss him around like a rag doll. everything is still on fire making him feel detached from his body. the sensation is almost numbing.

“you know what’s so frustrating?” your breathing is just as shallow as his is now. the ride on the elevator working you up far more than it should have. 

although he’s detached, your voice anchors him. he looks down at your flushed face and he almost whimpers at the sight. he croaks out, “what is?”

“you. you’re so frustrating. your stupid act, your stupid need to play dumb, your stupid big brown eyes, your stupidly long fingers, your stupidly handsome face and your stupidly careless actions. y’know, you’ve had a hard on since you stood up at the cafe. practically shoved it in my face.” you have him trapped, his back is hitting the end of some shelves.

you don’t touch him yet. you look up at him and gauge his reaction. he seems to be battling with what he should say and you could laugh in triumph. you’ve never seen someone render the dazai osamu speechless, but you just did it with a few suggestive sentences. 

dazai takes a shuddered breath collecting his wits before grinning down at you after fully processing your words. “my apologies, bella. that wasn’t my intention, but what is yours? this is quite the damning position you have me in.”

your confidence falters but you quickly recover and click your tongue. “it would be rude of me to not help you calm down… especially if i was the cause.” 

you look away, embarrassed by your own proposition. dazai takes a moment. he knows what you’re implying, he’s sure of it, but he’s having a hard time wrapping his head around it. after what feels like an eternity— it’s not, you’re just being dramatic— it finally clicks in dazai’s head. you’re being serious, if the look on your face is any indication. 

the detective hums and reaches out. his hand cups your face and glides up into your hair, fingers tangling with the strands and tugging just a little too harshly to be considered gentle. he was needy, you could see it in the endless sea of honey that are his irises. something was stirring. 

“how am i supposed to say no to that? i’m a weak man, unable to deny a beautiful woman when she makes such an enticing offer.”

you don’t have time to bite back with a witty comment because his lips are quite literally crashing into yours. the second his chapped lips make contact with your own every single touch and action from him comes from a place of desperation. although skilled, his actions are sloppy and almost rushed. his free hand grips your waist and draws you even closer. 

your hands land on his chest to brace and balance yourself. you try to catch your breath but dazai is proving that difficult with how his tongue dances along your own. his actions steal your breath away from you and make your lungs burn, screaming for relief and air. 

the lack of air and the sensation of dazai’s tongue tangling with your own dizzies your head. you can’t get a proper thought out. instinctively your mouth is moving with his, tongue smoothing over his, and hands fisting at the cloth on his chest but you couldn’t move out of your own volition. 

dazai pulls your head back by once again tugging at your hair. you let out an involuntary whimper, making sure to stay quiet as you gasp for air. dazai dips his head down and speaks in between littering kisses on your neck.

“i thought you were going to help me calm down, bella. so far i’m doing all the work and now i’m far more worked up than i was in the cafe.” 

his words bring you crashing down to reality and you scowl. of course he would still tease you. he loves getting a rise out of you. 

you don’t entertain him, though. instead your hand travels down his torso and starts tugging at his shirt. you pout at him mockingly. “i didn’t realize some mild kissing would work you up so much. ‘didn’t realize you were so sensitive -- so needy.” 

dazai wants to quip back at you but as you’re talking you’re undoing his pants and your last word is emphasized by you shoving your hand down his pants. your hand almost falters when you realize he’s not wearing anything underneath. instead, though, you take your index finger and teasingly run it along his length. it feels endless, he’s long, you realize. you briefly wonder just how far, how deep, he could reach inside of you. 

dazai shudders at the feather like touches to where he needs attention the most right now. you lean up and with your free hand you tug on dazais collar to bring him down to your level. your breath fans over his ear and, god, he shudders again. 

you hum. “‘s this where you need attention right now?”

“yes.” dazai breathes out the word. clearly affected by the way your finger is twirling around the leaking tip of his cock.

you maintain eye contact with dazai as you sink to your knees. the implication alone has dazai’s nerves coiling tighter. he brings his hand up to cover his face, head falling back as he groans. his breathing becomes more erratic as you withdrawal your hand, he barely contain a whimper from falling past his lips at the loss of contact. but you make quick work of shocking his pants halfway down his thighs and finally freeing his strained length.

your mouth begins to salivate involuntarily. his cock is surprisingly pretty and just as you suspected — his length is impressive, definitely above average. the leaking tip is flushed pink and his veins are visibly throbbing. you want nothing more than to choke on it but first, you think you need to tease him some more.

you rest your cheek on his trembling thigh and stare up at him innocently. “osamu.” he could cum, right then and there with the way you say his given name.

dazai looks down at you. the sight in front of him bringing him embarrassingly closer to release. all dazai can muster is a hum of acknowledgment and even that sounds a little pained.

you smile at his obvious desperation. “if i help you out here you need to follow a couple rules. be quiet and no touching. think you can do that for me?”

dazai tries so hard to pay attention to your words but barely registers them. did you say no touching? no touching what? and him being quiet? a bold request of him.

you seem pleased with how quick he is to nod at you in obedience. you waste no time, ready to indulge both of your fantasies. you lick a long stripe along the vein on the underside of his cock. dazai is twitching at the one action alone. how embarrassing of him — you both have the same thought. 

the brunette’s fingers itch to touch you but his mind is coherent enough to remember your stipulations. no touching. how cruel of you. to resist that temptation when you’re making him feel this good is just downright wicked.

you don’t miss the way his fists clench in a desperate attempt to keep his word. how could you not reward him for that? listening to you like such a good and obedient puppy. your tongue darts out to swirl around his flushed tip. the taste of his precum floods your tastebuds and you’re instantly hooked like an addict to their drug of choice. dazai’s taste was your new vice. 

your lips wrap around his head and you hollow your cheeks. dazai is panting. his head spinning from the pleasure at just the slightest of touches from you. his head hangs back and he brings his fist to his mouth and bites down. he wants to groan, wants to whimper, wants to moan your name. but you’ve denied him that privilege and he has a feeling that you would be merciless if he gave in and disregarded your requests. 

you take more of him with each bob of your head and with each stroke of your tongue you unravel the tight coil that had formed in dazai’s stomach. he was already so close. what a sight it would be to watch you choke over him as he spills everything he has directly down your throat. the thought almost undoes him. he bites down on his fist harder and he thinks he may have broken skin.

you observe dazai and it’s all so hot. his pants, his facial expressions, the way sweat is starting to form on his face and cause his hair to stick to it. you can feel yourself getting worked and you’re impatient. thank god the weather permitted you to wear a pencil skirt instead of the usual slack you usually wear. you use your free hand to bunch up your skirt at your waist. the actions makes your movements on dazai’s cock a little sloppy. he hadn’t noticed yet but his brows furrow as if he’s starting to. you try to fix your pace but it’s too late. he is already picking up his head and peering down at you. 

you were trying to touch yourself. if his head wasn’t already spinning this is what would be what sent him into a spiral. you had the audacity to call him needy but then in turn do something like this. it was unfair. 

Dazai can’t help himself. “bella, are you trying to touch yourself?” it comes out as a teasing whisper. you don’t miss the amusement in his voice. 

you suppose you asked him to stay quiet, not to stay silent.

still, your brows furrow and you ever so slightly graze your teeth against his cock. the sensation is something dazai sickeningly loves. his eyes are rolling back into his head and he let’s out a short moan. it’s quiet and you’re quite annoyed that he’s found a loophole. 

you can’t deny that his noises aren’t doing something for you, though. you’re even more desperate than before to slip out of your panties. you maneuver around and manage to shimmy them off. it’s almost embarrassing how wet the crotch of them are. you try to care but you just can bring yourself to do so when dazai’s hips begin to thrust and force the small bit of his length you’ve been unable to touch down your throat. 

you gag around him and dazai’s grasping at the shelves behind him for leverage. you spread your legs the best you can, being on your knees like this and sneak your hand up your thigh. you can feel the heat radiating off of you. you run a finger through your slick and moan around dazai when the digit brushes your clit.

“fuck, fuck, fuck ‘s so good, bella. your mouth ‘s so perfect for me.” his voice is hushed and breathy.

you’re not even listening to his babble as your nose continues to brush against his pelvis every time your sucking him back into your mouth. gagging, choking, on his cock. your eyes are watery, tears spilling from that and the sensation coming from below your pelvis. your finger makes expert work of your clit.

it’s too much.

you can’t breath right, dazai can’t think right, you gag with every thrust, dazai can’t control his stuttering hips, your one hand is playing with yourself and the other reaches up to cup dazai’s balls. 

it’s not only too much for you, it’s too much for dazai. the added sensation makes nerve, every cell, every fiber that makes up dazai ignite. he was about to cum, he needed to warn you. he needed to open his mouth and say something but it just flapped, no noise was coming out.

you bob your head back and peer up at dazai, his erratic breathing becoming suspiciously loud. the look on his face is absolutely breathtaking — it’s flushed, almost beet red, tears of his own trickle down his cheeks in droplets. he looked like a fallen angel, beautiful and dangerous all at the same time. 

you moan at the sight. fingers traveling down to your entrance and slowly pushing through. you suck in a breath and fold your lips over your teeth to keep yourself from grazing his length with them. the initial stretch feels divine but your fingers themselves aren’t enough. you need dazai’s twitching cock inside your cunt.

you note that dazais cock is throbbing painfully and starts to twitch quite a lot.

oh, you realize, he’s going to cum. 

you smirk deviously. you push your mouth down on dazai until his tip is hitting the back of your throat. with your eyes still on him you hollow your cheeks and swallow. dazai almost yelps at the added stimulation. his head snaps up and finally his attention is on you.

“shit.” he hisses, this time a little louder, so you glare up at him. “sorry- sorry but- fuck- gonna cum, please, ‘m so close.”

the second those words leave his mouth you’re backing up and removing your fingers from yourself. dazai let’s out a mangled noise, something between a sob and laugh. it was almost unnerving but the blissed out look on dazai’s face tells you he’s enjoying this game far more than the average person.

you watch his chest heave, his breathing heavy. his face is as red as a blooming rose. you think it’s a sort of beautiful sight to see. dazai never gets flustered, so seeing him like this, you can’t help but to feel special. 

you stand up as you pout at him, mock empathy written all over your face. “sorry, did you wanna cum? don’t think i can have that quite yet. not when you haven’t even fucked me. right, osamu?”

there it is again, the sound of his given name falling from your lips. something in dazai snaps. the thread of his sanity that you’d been stretching thin ever since the cafe finally tore in two. his eyes darken dangerously and you only have a moment to realize the shift before he’s picking you up by your thighs and wrapping them around his thin waist. you can feel his stiff cock lightly bouncing against your ass as he flips you around and pins you against the shelves.

his head dips down and he lips scant across the skin of your neck. he’s careful to only leave feather light touches. scraping the rough skin of his mouth on one of your most sensitive areas sends a shock of electricity through your body. you so badly want to tug at his hair but you’re coherent enough to realize your fingers are still coated in your own slick. 

you smile slyly at the detective as he peers at you through his ridiculously long lashes. you grab his chin delicately and bring your soiled fingers to his lips. his eyes light up in immediate realization. he wordlessly opens his mouth, tongue lolling out a bit as he happily waits for his treat like a puppy, you can practically see his tail wagging. you let out a breathless laugh, because you think you may be screwed. dazai osamu has you wrapped around his pretty and lithe fingers and you think he already knew that. 

you think about making him beg for it but you’re so momentarily mesmerized by the brunette that you find yourself leaning in and gently interesting the digits into his mouth. dazai is quick to appreciate your offering. his lips encase your fingers and his tongue makes quick work of lapping up and savoring your taste.

dazai’s hip involuntarily rut into yours and you can’t help yourself. all the pent up frustration you’ve felt since the dreams started finally gets to your head. you’re desperate to feel him inside of you. a sensation you were always denied of, waking up before actually getting fucked by the very man holding you each time. you reach down to guide his cock then expertly shift your hips and he becomes perfectly aligned with your entrance. dazai is sucking on your fingers but his actions become sloppy as he watches what you’re doing with intense concentration.

you waste no time sinking yourself down on his length, he’s already well coated in your slick and eases into you. you bite on your lip to avoid making any obscene noises but dazai snaps you into reality when he carelessly moans loudly. you panic and shove your fingers further into his mouth. he hums appreciatively and if his hips rocking into yours didn’t feel so good you’d hop off his cock right then and there and leave him blue balled. you could bring yourself to do that though, not when you’ve been waiting for this for so long.

you settle for hissing out, “shut the fuck up, dazai.” 

dazai gives you a shit eating grin as he snakes an arm under your ass and squeezes before slowly shifting his hips away from yours, leaving you virtually empty, before sliding himself back into you at the same painstakingly slow pace. he repeats the slowed movements a few times before you’re slipping your fingers out of his mouth and bracing yourself on his shoulders. you try to move your hips on your own but dazai is quick to catch you.

“ah, ah, bella. can’t have you doing whatever you want right now. unless you want me to get louder, you’ll let me set the pace.” his voice is slightly strained and hushed, but despite his seriousness, you can hear the tiniest bit of teasing mixed in.

you let out a whine but resign to him setting the pace. in the meantime your fingers find their way to his hair and tug. dazais hips stutter, showing you that he is far too needy to take full control. taking full advantage of just how distracted he is, you grind your hips into the detective’s with each thrust and dip your head to leave sloppy wet kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

“shit, you’ve been so wound tight all the time lately that even your perfect cunt has a vice grip on me. it’s so perfect, feels so good.” you can tell how hard dazai is trying to be quiet and you note that you should reward him for that later.

it doesn’t take long for his pace to increase, his rapid movements making the shelves behind you rock and creak. dazai still seems displeased with the pace, his brows knitting together in concentration. you catch his eyes flitting to your neck and lingering there. 

you’ve always worn your tie loose, the first couple buttons if your dress shirt undone. it drives dazai mad. your neck and cleavage are always on display in the most tasteful way. he wants nothing more than to run his hand over your velvety soft skin and wrap his nimble fingers around your neck. now that he has the chance to do so, he can’t pass up the opportunity.

your grip in his hair tightens as he shifts you, keeping you up with one arm as he keeps his pace. you have no room to question him when the new positioning has his cock nudging your sweet spot so deliciously. your head becomes dizzy and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. 

dazai’s hand travels up your body, palm flush with your skin so he can feel every bump and curve. he starts at your upper abdomen and slithers it up. he completely ignores your breasts which you vaguely think was his goal. you have no time to act surprise over it bc his hand is gently wrapping around your neck. he wants to squeeze, fingers twitching, but he resigns to a light grip to simply test the waters. 

your response is something he wasn’t expecting. your eyes roll back and you let out a hushed whimper. that’s when he realizes, he wants to do this forever. he wants to fuck you senseless so he can see that beautiful expression on your face forever. so he can feel you tightly wrapped around him forever. dazai wants you forever. the fleeting thought scares him just a little but he has no time to dwell on it because the coil in his stomach is unraveling once again.

“dazai-“ your interrupted by him bringing you in for a sloppy kiss. you think the noises from the kiss alone are far more obscene than the noises from him bullying his cock into you, which is a hard feat considering those are, by no means, quiet or pure. 

when the brunette detaches himself he breathes out. “osamu- shit- ‘s osamu…”

“osamu. ‘m gonna cum. so close- please.” you let out a quiet sob as you babble.

dazai has no time to respond. it’s embarrassing, the way he can’t even give you any other warning but him shoving his face in your shoulder, grip tightening around your throat ever so slightly. the whimper he lets out tells you everything you need to know before he starts spilling his cum inside of you.

the throbbing of his cock and sensation of him filling you up has your walls contracting and you’re diving off the deep end yourself. you bite your lip hard. desperate trying to keep yourself from making more noise than the whines sticking in your throat. your vision blurs and and hearing goes muffled as your senses become overwhelmed by your high.

dazai is still rutting his hips into you, guiding you through your orgasm despite his twitches and obvious overstimulation. when you come back to your senses, dazai is whimpering a lot louder than previously. his grip on your neck is lost as he leaves soothing strokes on your side. you tug at his hair to lift his head so you can look at him.

his face is somehow even more flushed than earlier, you’re almost concerned. the look in his eyes though makes something stir inside of you. his glazed over and hooded eyes, completely unfocused. his lips parted as he’s letting out short and shuddered puffs of air. dazai has lost all senses but the feeling of him inside of you. 

“osamu. hey- look at me. you need to calm-“ you his when his rutting becomes more intense, thrusts becoming less shallow but hips and cock still twitching wildly, you have to stop him otherwise you’ll both lose yourselves in this supply closet and you can’t afford to do that when everyone is still in the office next door. “osamu we need to get back.”

dazai seems to have regained some of his consciousness. “again.”

you let out a breathless laugh, eyes glimmering in genuine amusement and adoration. “not right now. later. we need to get back. i have a case i need to finish working on.”

dazai finally fully comes back to you and he lightens up at the promise of later. that means this isn’t just a one time thing. something in that back of his head always told him if he crossed that line with you, things wouldn’t be the same, he’d only have one shot. but your words are such a relief he could cry. he can’t help himself, he has to clarify.

“later? after work and… again anytime after that?” his eyes are pleading and hopeful and you can’t help but melt under his soft gaze.

you nod and open your mouth to affirm his statement but you're rudely interrupted by a loud rapping at the closet door. “you two better have not done any of that by my emergency snack stash and you better clean up after yourselves. hurry up, i can't keep stalling and kunikida needs staples.”

ranpo’s voice rings throughout the room. you groan in embarrassment and bury yourself into his chest. dazai lets out a gleeful laugh still dizzyingly drunk on the idea of your promise.

[gold-onthe-inside]

blind date

who? spencer reid (s8) x blake!reader summary: you finally give into your godmother's insistence on going on a date with her colleague, if only to get her off your back, and find yourself having to break the heart of someone who could have been the love of your life. content warnings: not a happy ending (i warned you, you don't get to yell at me), reader is blake's goddaughter and a therapist. word count: 2.1k

You let out a slow breath before entering the restaurant, smoothing down your dress, still second-guessing your outfit - a purple dress matched with a dark velvet jacket and a black purse with a gold chain belt - as if you hadn’t spent your day looking up what women in their 30s wore on first dates. Not like it matters, you told yourself. You’d get through the date, politely tell the guy that he was great but you weren’t interested, and hopefully be home by 10pm. You turn your gaze to the maitre’d, telling him the table was under Reid’s name.

You had told yourself on the way that you couldn’t hold it against him if he was late — you still remember the coffee meetings your own godmother never turned up to — but it turned out he was earlier than you. Where you showed up to everything ten minutes in advance, he showed up twenty-five minutes.

You saw him first, looking into the silver ware and flattening down his hair and adjusting his tie, clearly nervous, looking up when he heard you thank the maitre’d. Spencer almost stumbled over himself as he stood up to pull your chair out for you and you feel an overwhelming urge to reassure him. “H-Hi,” he said, matching your awkward smile. “You look really nice.”

“Thanks,” you said softly, taking the seat and watching him take his, his hand splayed against his chest to keep his tie back. “You’re taller than I thought you’d be.”

His laugh is nervous, God help him, and he corrects the displaced silverware so they align perfectly before he looked at you again. “I, uh, I get that a lot.”

“Go on a lot of blind dates then?” you asked, sipping the water within reach, and you can see panic flash across his face.

“No! I mean, I’ve-I’ve been on dates before. Just um—” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I meant I get the-the height thing, quite a bit. Not that there’s been a lot—”

“Breathe, Spencer,” you feel compelled to say as his face flushes. You’d meant to tease, not give the man a heart attack.

“Sorry,” he murmured, trying to get a grip on himself. God, how did Derek do this? “Um… Blake, sorry, Alex, told me that you’re a therapist,” he said, focusing on something concrete.

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, not sure how much information you wanted to tell him. Though, to be fair, he was a federal agent. He could have it found out anyway. “I work at a clinic in Georgetown,” you said, folding your hands in front of you and overthinking whether you should be crossing your legs or not. This was usually the point where the guy would ask if you could read his mind, or attempt to educate you on how mental health was a sham and everyone just needs to get some exercise, and that would be your cue to fake an emergency exit. Maybe you’d get home in time to watch some decent TV.

“Is it hard?” he asked, taking a sip of water before he leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with genuine interest. It was endearing, and surprising.

“It can be,” you answered, leaning in slightly. “Some days you get really, really good sessions, you know? And other days it’s…”

“Hell?” he offered and you let out a small huff.

“Try having a seven year old drawing on furniture with chalk,” you told him, watching him wince.

“I, uh… have a confession,” he said, leaning even closer, his voice a dramatic whisper. “I did that as a kid.”

"Understimulated in class, huh?" you asked, smiling at him a little more.

“A lot,” he admitted. “I learned to read very young, and… well, then everyone wanted me to read, and it wasn’t as fun anymore, you know?”

“Mm,” you say in agreement, but before you continue, the waiter comes, and you both order a glass of wine, and appetizers to split. “So, you must be dealing with a lot worse than pre-pubescent vandalism, right?” you asked, pulling apart the fried mozzarella balls with delicate precision, and you watch him think for a moment.

“I’m just trying to decide if the last case we worked would be preferable to handling a toddler, and I honestly think I’d prefer the serial killer,” he said thoughtfully and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you.

"Yeah, no, I don't blame you," you replied, sipping your wine.

“What about you?” he asked between bites. “Did you know you wanted to be a psychologist from day one?”

"Uh... No, I actually thought I would go into linguistics, like Alex, but somewhere around my first year into undergrad, I realised that psychology was my calling," you said.

“What changed your mind?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and leaning his elbow on the table. You liked the way he gave you his full attention; his eyes hadn’t strayed from you since you’d gotten there.

“Uh, we used to have to do these case studies and we’d do these role plays where everyone had a presenting concern to work with, and I used to get this… high whenever I’d figured the client out. Like that moment where everything just… clicks into place. And I got addicted to it,” you said, your words and love for your job captivating.

“I know exactly what you mean,” he said, his smile widening. “I’m sure Alex’s told you that I have an… impressive memory. The cases we work on-the ones they don’t put in our files on purpose-I remember every single piece of information. It’s like the details don’t leave me. So when we finally catch the unsubs, the-the serial killers…” His voice lowers, leaning further over the table to you and he’s so close, you can almost smell his cologne. “That’s when it clicks.”

You stared at him for a beat, like everything else in the world had gone still, his soft hazel eyes looking affectionately into yours, and then the waiter comes over and the bubble between you two pops, springing apart like two teenagers being walked in on. You can see the flush come over his skin, just as the waiter places his plates in front of him, and focus on ordering your dinner, Spencer agreeing to whatever you ordered.

“So,” you started as the waiter left, and you could see the hint of a smile cross his lips. “Spencer, what do you do for fun?”

He hums a little, thinking. “I read, obviously, and I play poker, although I think half the team suspects I’m counting cards.” He leans forward. “Don't tell them, but I am.”

“You can count cards?” you asked, looking at him in disbelief.

He tilts his head to the side, and he looks like some kind of adorable dog, and your cheeks flush a little darker. “Is it that surprising?” Spencer asks. “I mean, if you know the math, it’s-“ He seems to stumble a little, like he’s worried he’ll bore you with the explanation.

“Keep going,” you prompt him, interested.

“I mean, it’s not foolproof,” he starts, the words flowing quickly from him. “You can’t really predict probability with any certainty. It’s just… really good guessing.” He smiles proudly. “I’m actually banned from a few casinos in Vegas.”

You sipped your wine, shaking your head. "You've gotta teach me how, cause I swear, Alex beats me every time."

“You play poker?” Spencer asked, and you nodded, taking another sip of wine. “Of course, you do,” he added, smiling. “You’re perfect,” he blurted, then started, his face flushing a deep colour.

You could fall in love with this man if you let yourself, and it’s a scary thought. Alex hadn’t been kidding when she said that Spencer was perfect for you. Then why was there this horrible pit in your stomach, like an anvil hovering over you?

The rest of the dinner went perfectly, Spencer pulling out your chair for you as you both prepared to leave. The air was crisp, just a little chilly — spring wasn’t quite ready to fully come out of hiding yet. There was a certain energy between you both; a sense of hope you had long forgotten, and as he walked you to your car, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking up and meeting his eyes.

You'd felt this way before... four years ago when you met the man you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with, and suddenly, the idea of going through that again... It scared the living daylights out of you. "This was really nice," you managed, looking at him.

“It was,” he agreed, his hands shoving into his pockets. “I’d like to see you again.” He said it casually, but his eyes betrayed him, like he was afraid you were going to refuse.

You swallowed, reminding yourself to take a breath. "Spencer, you're... really great. I mean, seriously, any girl would be lucky to go out with you," you said slowly. "But if I'm honest... I only came out tonight to get Alex off my back."

You can see the way it crushes him; the light in his eyes dimming. His shoulders drop and his head lowers, and you feel a wave of guilt overcome you, but your feet stay rooted to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he said, but you know his words are meant more for his own failings than for you - you can see it in his body language, how he’s withdrawing into himself. What you expect is for him to walk away; instead, he looks back up at you, and you feel your heart break as your eyes meet his pained ones.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," you said softly. "I should never have..." You took a sharp breath. "I like you, Spencer. A lot, probably more than I'm ready for. But I just got out of a long-term relationship. I'm not ready to jump into another one, especially with someone who... who deserves a lot more."

“I-I don’t mind taking things slow,” he said, his voice soft as his eyes searched your face, and you knew he was telling you the truth. But he doesn’t deserve to be some kind of… emotional training wheels for you, as you work through a bad breakup. He deserves more than you’ve got to offer.

"Of course you don't," you said, with a tinge of fondness. "You're perfect."

"I think I'm far from perfect," he says, with a self-deprecating grin. "But I'd be happy to be, um... whatever it is you're ready for."

You don't want to say it, but he's really, really, really hard to say 'No' to, and the fact he was so genuine in wanting to be around you made your heart clench. You wanted to say 'yes' so desperately.

Maybe you should say 'yes'. Just to see what happens.

"It's a bad idea," you said reluctantly, your resolve crumbling.

"But it might be just what you need," Spencer said, and he's right - you hate it but you can feel the way he's pulling you in. The way those hazel eyes hold you; the way you just want to spend more time with him.

A mistake, you think to yourself, just as his hand slides down, his fingers slotting with yours. A glorious mistake.

"I don't want to do that to you," you murmured, even though all you wanted to do was kiss him and take him home and ruin him.

"Please," he murmured, stepping just a little closer, as if you had any resolve left at this point. "I'm a big boy. I can make that decision for myself."

The way he stepped so close to you made your skin tingle, and something deep within you tightened, and you were sure that Spencer could see it in your eyes. Your free hand lifted, sliding along his cheek. "I can't," you said, thumb gliding against his cheekbone. "I'm sorry."

Spencer stepped back, and you watch the way his face falls, your hand falling away to your side, but he nods, and the part of you that wasn't ready for this, was happy you'd made that decision. That he would stay safe and away from you - but then he leaned down, and before you can process what it was, he presses a warm kiss to your cheek. "I had a really nice time, tonight," Spencer murmured, and you can hear the sound of his footsteps leave before you can get your mouth to work again.

"Me too," you murmured into the air, sinking against your car, wondering if you'd just made the biggest mistake of your life, letting him slip through your fingers.

[etanow]

Got some Abstragedy and various ML ramblings!!

Zooble doesn't care much for torturing and tricking humans or whatever the stigma around demons is, they're more aligned with the sin of sloth, manifesting with apathy and a blatant disregard for any 'duty' they might have to higher powers.

This means they aren't into the whole "human and blood sacrifice" stuff like other demons might be, so when a mysterious cult's summoning of an ancient power failed and the group summoned Zooble instead, you can only imagine how pissed they were. Not only from being ripped away from a Seinfeld marathon but also now having an innocent soul sacrificed in their name. Hell has paperwork, too much damn paperwork, and turning the bright soul over to eternal damnation like it was promised to felt like too much of a chore and such a waste of a soul. So instead Zooble told it to go haunt or whatever, just leave them be and they won't collect. She didn't like this idea much. Stuck as little more than a string of shadows with no name to remember, and nowhere to go, and the idea of haunting her family felt wrong.

So in the first few years, Gangle followed Zooble around as a distant shadow, not interacting much, simply watching the demon go about their business. Zooble didn't mind this. They got annoyed at first when she started getting curious and asking questions or starting up chats, but soon found her to be a decent conversation partner.

Gangle didn't know she could possess the mask she died in until Zooble showed her, even with the heavy emotions that the mask brought she missed being more than a watcher to the world. She can enter it freely, but can't exit it unless the mask breaks. There's something supernatural about the mask, the breaks never stick. The black silk ribbons originally were connected to the back as decorations. It's how Gangle got her new name, when she learned she could use the ribbons like limbs and Zooble started laughing at how gangly she looked. Gangle as a nickname stuck more than any other they gave her.

She cried when she held a pencil for the first time in a decade and now finds enjoyment in interacting with everything around, she's very touchy-feely. Goes absolutely crazy for bubble wrap.

Zooble can interact with Gangle when she's pure shadow and vice versa.

Zooble's allergic to holy water lol

Gangle worries about everything and overthinks a lot, being around Zooble helps with that as their presence does promote feelings of apathy.

Gangle is ambidextrous after learning how to write with flimsy hands. Zooble prefers writing with her shadowy hand.

Zooble can switch out parts but certainly has preferences based on fate, even if they don't know why. They change their parts out slowly rather than daily and will stick with some appendages for months or years at a time.

Gangle kissed Zooble first and then ran and hid for 4 months out of embarrassment even though Zooble very enthusiastically kissed her back. Zooble found her and the first thing she did was return the favor 💕

They didn't put a label on their relationship until much later, just fine being whatever felt right in the moment.

Gangle can't feel temperature anymore so doesn't mind Zooble's elevated body temperature or when they burst into flames.

Their arrangement works, but Zooble still feels like Gangle is missing out on the life that got stolen from them. They want to fix it. It took a while to hunt down someone with connections who might be able to help, it's how they made their way into C&A Laboratories- specifically in a research division focused on the study of souls; One of Caine's many domains. In exchange for services to find a way to sever the soul debt, they'd both participate in any research going on within the residency.

Jax is the one to fix Gangle's mask when it breaks when Caine isn't around. He teases her for it endlessly, sometimes throwing it at the shadow when she isn't paying attention only for it to stick to her and force her back in.

Jax and Zooble have an,, interesting agreement. Deals and trades are how he ended up in the same residency, and he's no stranger to twisting the words of their pacts for his own benefit, even to other lab resident's detriment.

[voxslays]

Angel’s “Goodie Two Shoes.”

Warnings >>> A lil angst, swearing.

(This almost took up three entire pages on google docs. lol.)

It was an average Tuesday in hell. Everyone at the hotel was socializing, until Angel walked in. That's when the fighting began.

“That's bullshit. You get drunk and bitch about them all the time. Everyone likes to bitch to the bartender. I know everything about you and these motherfuckers at this point.” Husk points at Pentious. “That one. That one is an insecure buffoon whose lonely ass watches you idiots sleep!” Husk gestures at Charlie next. “Princess, is a bleeding heart who wants to solve everybody else's problems 'cept her own.” He rolls his eyes. The others try to deny the accusations. ​​”And you!” Husk scoffs as he looks at Angel. “Don't get me started. I see right through you and all this bullshit and how fake you are.” Angel moves closer to Husk. “You weren't kidding! Oh ho, wow! Kittens got claws~” He aggressively flirts. “Angel. Enough.” You try to de-escalate the situation. Husk visibly stiffens. “Awww~ Are you jealous?~” He flirts, putting his hands on you.

“Angel. I'm serious. Stop.” You shut him down. “This is hell baby, what did you expect? Flowers?” He says in his thick Brooklyn accent. “You’re making everyone here, including myself uncomfortable! Stop!” You raise your voice to just below a yell. “You know what? Fuck you. I don't give a shit what some drunk ass bartender,” he motions to husk, and then to you, “or some goodie-goodie thinks a' me.” Angel was trying to hide the hurt he felt from your rejection by putting on some ‘classy’ sunglasses. “So why don't you just crawl back to whatever cave you came from, porn critics”. Husk growls annoyed at his comment as Angel flips both of you off, with all four of his hands.

You angrily stomp up to your room and slam the door shut. Charlie pokes her head into the hallway, hearing the door slam and a cry. Her affectionate instincts flare within her, she walks to the room and knocks on the door. “Hey….Y/N? Are you okay?” She asks, a tone of concern in her voice. “I'm fine..” You wipe your tears. “Please go away.” *Charlie frowns, worried. This was the second time something like this is happening. Charlie gently puts a hand on the door. No you're not. You're crying,” She pauses. “Can you please let me in?” She asks gently. Charlie waits for a response, shifting her feet as worry and concern fill her heart. She doesn't like when people are upset, especially in her own hotel. She gently knocks again. “Please?” You open the door. Charlie wastes no time in throwing her arms around you in a tight hug. She can feel her own heart breaking that yet another person is crying. 

“Angel called me a ‘goodie two shoes’…is that true?” You say through your tears. Charlie pulls back, gently taking your face in her hands. “Of course not! You're not a ‘goodie two shoes’...You're a good person. You are kind, empathetic, and sweet. You care about people. You make the people around you happy. Angel is just...being Angel…” She trails off. “Don't overthink it.”

“I think I have feelings for Angel.” Charlie blinks, letting go of her. “You have feelings for Angel Dust?” Her eyes are filled with mild disbelief. “You...like Angel??” You sigh. “I do.” Charlie’s face lights up with excitement. “That's great! You should go tell him!” She exclaims happily. “I can't. He is really upset with me…” You say sadly, tears still forming in your eyes. “Just go talk to him. I'm sure things will turn out okay. I promise.” You look up at her, wiping your tears. “Are you sure?” You ask, still a little skeptical. “Yes.” She responds.

You walk into the lobby and sit on one of the sofas, reading a magazine. Angel sat down next to you, his long spider-like legs stretching out in front of him as he huffed. The tall and skinny demon’s expression was sullen and tired, his gloved hands fidgeting with the bowtie around his neck. He didn’t immediately say anything, opting to try and gather his thoughts first. After a small moment of silence, Angel took a deep breath and spoke up, his voice quieter than usual but still holding its usual hint of sass. “Look. I know I’ve been real shitty to ya lately. But I’m not tryna be, it’s just how I deal with stuff. Not that what I deal with gives me an excuse to treat ya bad or nothing.. I just.” Angel huffed again, frustrated with his ability to find the words.

“You were right though. I am a goodie two shoes.” Angel laughed slightly at that, shaking his head. He ran his hand through his long fluffy locks and said, “Yeah, yeah ya kinda are Toots. I may just be the right amount of bad boy to get you to break a rule or two.” Angel reached his hand out and gently lifted your chin, turning your head towards him. His usual smug expression was softened, and his usual sass was replaced with genuine worry. “But seriously suga’. Are you alright? I don’t want ya thinkin I don’t care about ya, ya dig?”

“Did Husk put you up to this? Talk some sense into you?” Angel looked away, refusing to meet your gaze. He scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed that Husk had gotten involved in their fight. There was a long pause. “…I dunno if I’d say that exactly. More like gave me a smack upside the head and told me to stop being a jackass.” It was your turn to laugh softly at him. Angel chuckled in return, and leaned his head back against the filthy brick wall behind him. He looked up at the night sky, his long legs stretching out before him as he spoke in a quiet voice, “I meant what I said though doll. I really don’t mean to act like such an ass. I..I really do care about you sugartits.”

“The only reason I was upset is because I knew you were right.” You say sadly. Angel quirked an eyebrow at that comment, and shifted his gaze back over towards you. “You… Wait what?” He asked, unable to believe what he was hearing. “You’re telling me you’re really upset cause I hurt ya feelings instead of because I was being a prick?” Angel was dumbfounded, his expression morphing into one of complete bewilderment. It was the last answer he’d ever expect you to give. He sat there processing your response for a moment, his mouth hung slightly open in shock. After a few moments he chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. “Babe. You really are a goodie two shoes.”

Angel chuckled and reached out to place a hand on your shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was genuine and soft, the usual sarcasm replaced with sincerity. “If it makes you feel better, I really was just spouting random bullshit. I only said that to get under your skin. You seriously have no idea how much I’m into how pure and sweet you are, toots.”

“Easy there angel. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had a crush on me.” You tease. Angel let out another small laugh and rolled his eyes, a smirk spreading across his lips. He leaned a bit closer, and said in a low voice, “Darlin, if I’m honest, that’s exactly what’s goin’ on here. I’ve absolutely got a crush on you, Babycakes.” You look shocked.

Angel placed his hand on your thigh, and added, “You’ve no idea how cute you are dollface. So sweet and pure. I’m completely head over heels for ya.” He smirks. “Me too.” You lean in and kiss his cheek. Angels smirk morphed into a genuine, albeit shy, smile. His cheeks flushed a light pink and he chuckled sheepishly at the show of affection. He reached up with his lower set of hands, cupping your chin and running his thumb over your lips. “You’re lucky I’m a sap for a goodie two shoes, doll.” Angel teased, his voice still low and soft. “I guess I am.” You say, as you two spent the night in eachothers arms.