#i sometimes wonder if it's like . not good that the two times i feel like a person are 1) at work and 2) when boxing

[irndad]

i wish i knew you wanted me - s.r.

a/n: okay this ended up being so so long forgive me!!! i hope you like<3 summary: based loosely on 'bad habit'. spencer got asked out by reader 5 years ago, when he was recovering from his dilaudid addiction, and turned her down. now, he's in love with her, and pining for her. also, jealous!spencer. she fell first, he fell harder. wc: ~2k

She’s very pretty. It’s distracting. Right now, she’s staring intently at his hands, and he feels hot under her gaze. It’s been a while since he’s done this, the little rocket trick, but she’s visiting the office, and Garcia had mentioned he’s a magician. 

“That’s incredible!” She exclaims, a giggle in her laugh, and he feels the swoop of his stomach, the butterflies of it all, “You got them so high up!”

“It’s just physics,” he laughs, meeting her warm gaze. Her smile is one for the ages. 

She’s here dropping off a file. They’ve known eachother a really long time, actually. She was an expert witness for them, once, years ago. She spoke with ease, both on the stand and in person. Equal measure kind and measured, and Spencer had adored her on first glance. They’d met when he was just getting clean from Dilaudid, and Spencer’s been in love with her since not long after than first meeting. That’s pretty much the only thing about her he wishes he could take back. 

He still has a hard time thinking about it, the fact that he met her when he was barely himself. Still, she’d been kind, listened to him talk and let the others tell her that he was…going through something. It was on his two month sobriety date (which she’d had no way of knowing) that she’d asked him out. 

Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he replays the memory in his head. How she works just south of their office, and how they’d meet at the café nearest, and chat for an hour before calling a cab home. 

On the other side of the veil, he can picture that night, years ago now. How she’d looked with the snow kissing her nose, dotting the edges of her faux-fur hood. She’d stuck out her tongue to catch a snowflake, and he’d almost combusted and the adorability of it. 

“You look nice,” she’d said, although at the time he’s pretty sure he looked gaunt. He’d only recently started to gain the weight back- but still, her praise felt like stardust. 

“You look nicer,” he’d said back, gently bumping her shoulder as a fond gesture. Her little grin is well-worth how awkward they both look on the street.

“Listen,” she had said, stuffing her hands into her pockets, the size of the coat causing her hands to disapear from sight entirely, “I asked JJ and Morgan, and they said you’re not seeing anyone.”

“Oh, yeah. They love reminding me of that. Not everyone can be like Morgan and have dated half the western hemsiphere.”

He felt embarrassed, her watching him. It’s nice, but sometimes feels like staring into the sun. 

Her chuckle was nervous, not fully reaching her eyes. 

“You okay? 

“Yeah,” she swallowed again, before speaking, “I was wondering, um, if you might want to grab a drink with me?”

“Sure,” he’d replied back, amenably. He couldn’t tell why she looked so nervous, “I can’t really do hard liquor, though. Maybe we can invite the team.”

“No, Spence, I was wondering if you and I could go on a um, a date.”

And he’s frozen. Because this might be the second time he’d ever been asked out, and second, this might be his dream girl. She’s gorgeous and kind and she’s in front of him, asking him out. 

“I um,” his mouth was dry. He’d be a bad boyfriend. He was a recovering drug addict who already was bad at talking to people, and she lit up a room whenever she walked in. She finds him easy to be with, easy to care for and he’s bound to fuck it up. He couldn’t imagine giving that up because he was too greedy to take what he got. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

He almost took it back with incredible speed, with that flash of disapointment on her lovely face, and the knowledge that it’s because she wanted him, before she quickly regained her speech.

“That’s totally alright! We’ll just be good friends, yeah?”

In the here and now, they are friends. Best of, really. And he made the right choice. He’d lashed out at Emily a month later in a withdrawl, and he knows that he’d have done the same to her, and now, she’s still in his life. 

The drawbacks of course, to being her friend, means she has dates. Boyfriends, as well, and he’s been a…friend, through it all. Good friend. She’s never suspeced him of anything more, of course, after he’d categorically rejected it. 

(Even though this rejection plays in his head all the fucking time, like a torturous groundhog day.)

She’s beautiful today, a blue blouse with a scarf lazily around her neck, and the way she’s leaning over his desk to see the  trick before she drops off her analysis. 

“Alright, Spence,” she says, her rose perfume wafting in the air prior to her hopping off the corner, “Did you need anything else? Today is my half-day, and Harry wanted to take me to Art Insititute.”

Harry, is the boy on rotation at the moment. Spencer has no impulse control and a super-computer expert best friend, so Spencer knows that Harry is 6’0 on his Driver’s License, and is a Financial Analyst. Spencer knows from her own mouth that this will be the third date, and that he’s a little boring but she’s attracted to the fact that he was direct and wanted to go out again. 

Low bar, but one Spencer couldn’t even clear. He doesn’t say any of that, though.

“That sounds fun,” he says, instead of saying that he’d love to walk her through the inscriptions on each art piece, love to kiss her in front of something thats’ beauty does not come close to her’s. “Are you thinking it might run long, or are we still doing the bookstore and TV at mine after?”

He’s been looking forward to this all week. He bought special marshmallows for her cocoa. He also htes to imagine her date running long. 

“Nah,” she smiles, “besides, he’s just some guy. You’re Spencer.”

Morgan doesn’t say anything when he looks down at his. paperwork, and scribbles instead of thinking, the best he can. 

________________________________

Don’t think about the fact she was on a date. Don’t think about how Harry might have got to kiss her. Just don’t bring it up. 

“How was the date?”

She shrugged, pulling at the spine of a hardcover novel. 

“It was fine. Like I said, he was kind of boring.”

“So why’d you go out with him again?”

“I dunno, Spence, I just… I want a boyfriend, you know? I want someone to want to be with me.”

She is so beautiful. She laughs with her whole chest, and she listens to his stories and chimes in with her own expertise. She has a voice that seems like it’s spun gold thread, and he’d give anything to kiss her. 

“I get that,” he says, instead of anything he’s thinking. She’s wearing brown lipstick, transfer proof. He’s in love with her. “There’s got to be guys lining up for a girl like you.”

“That’s a nice thought, Spence. Not the ones I’d like.”

___________________________

This thought haunts his evening, and when he parks and they start the walk-up to his apartment, a confession hammering at his throat, a physical urge. She’s giggling at some long physics joke he’d made, and he’s addicted to the soft bell of her laughter.

His apartment is small and lovely, and he enjoys having her in the small and dark of the night, the sun set over what he wishes were two lovers. 

“You are really pretty, you know,” he says, once she’s settled into his chest, a sick satisfaction of knowing Harry got a quick thank you text before she darted over to Spencer’s arms. 

“Thanks, Spencer. You’re a good friend.”

“Why do you always say that?”

“That you’re a good friend?”

“I’m not saying you’re pretty because I’m a good friend. I’m saying it because it’s true, and I enjoy saying true things.” 

“You don’t…I don’t know why you’re saying that, Spencer. We’re friends and I adore you and I’m here right now, but you don’t need to make it harder on me.”

She looks nervous, and a little disapointed. He wants her to know, that even if he’s missed his shot, she’s not going to be alone. He’s gonna spend the rest of his life hating whoever knew to take the best thing offered to him, but Spencer- he knows he is not going to be the last to love her. He grabs her hand without thinking, her doe eyes peering into his with some emotion he can’t pin down. 

“Hey, I’m not trying…to make anything hard for you. I don’t ever want to do that. I just… some day someone’s gonna see you and want to be with you and I’m going to watch it and know it was inevitable.” 

The words taste like barbed wire. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg, I’m ready now. I’ll do it right. 

Is that even true? Is it just that he wants her bad enough he’s willing to risk not doing it right?

“You’re so sweet,” she sobs, and oh, she’s crying. Just a little, but tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “You make it so hard to be your friend. And I know that’s my problem, that you’ve always been straight up with me. I asked you out and you said no, and I know that-“

“I know that I was too late, and freaked out about being with someone like you when I was still so fucked up.” they’re so close to eachother, he can smell her chapstick. His chest aches. “Sweetheart, that had nothing to do with you. It was all me. It’s a train I missed that I’m gonna spend the rest of my life wishing I’d caught.”

He feels uncomfortably bare, even in the oversized sweater that she’d gotten him last Christmas, and that he’d pretended had been from his lover all of that week. But it’s important that she knows.

“What do you mean, ‘too late’?”

Her voice is small, so quiet he barely hears it. She threads her nimble fingers into his slender ones, and his heart is hammering. 

“I-I was on Dilaudid, or just barely off, you know- you wouldn’t want to be with someone like me. You asked me out when you didn’t even know that.”

“I know you now. Years worth of knowing.”

“And you haven’t asked me since.” 

“Spencer,” her voice is warm, rich like silk and grainy old music, and he wants to drink this image in, her fingers stroking the side of his face like he’s holy. He wonders if he’s dreaming, with how good she feels to be so close to. 

Ask me again, he wants to beg. I’m ready, now. 

“Spencer Walter Reid,” she says, properly holding his hand, bringing her soft lips to his hand, kissing his knuckle. He feels anointed, blessed by a higher power. “Could I take you out on a date?”

“Yes,” he says, finally. Five years of waiting melts away as he kisses her, warmth and light seeping into existence, a dream brought to tangible life, to touch and reality, “Actually, wait,” he says, and finishes before her face can fall, “Would you be my girlfriend?”

It’s maybe playing his cards too much, but her wide, ear to ear splitting grin is everything he needs to see, everything he might need to see for the rest of his life. 

“Took you long enough, boy-genius.”

“All you had to do was ask again!”

If she has a complaint about that, it certainly couldn’t be heard by the many, many kisses that would follow. 

[miaaluvspaige]

Title: Playing the Part

Parring : Caitlin Clark x reader

It had all started as a joke. A casual comment made during lunch with your friends, a harmless *what if* scenario that was never supposed to lead anywhere. But somehow, Caitlin Clark had overheard, and now, here you were—walking into a packed house party, your hand tightly clasped in hers, trying to convince everyone that the two of you were a couple.

The whole “fake dating” thing had seemed like a brilliant solution at the time. Caitlin needed a way to get her teammates off her back. They’d been teasing her constantly, trying to set her up with random girls, and she was fed up. You, on the other hand, had been sick of your ex showing up at every party, flaunting their new relationship. So when Caitlin came to you with the idea, it seemed like a win-win.

You were friends, after all. Pretending to date couldn’t be *that* hard… right?

Right.

---

**The Party**

The moment you and Caitlin stepped through the front door, you felt a shift in the atmosphere. People were watching you two, whispering, glancing back and forth between you as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. You tried to stay calm, reminding yourself that this was just for show.

“You okay?” Caitlin whispered as she leaned down to your ear, her voice soft but filled with concern.

You nodded, flashing her a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… getting into character, I guess.”

Caitlin laughed, giving your hand a light squeeze. “Relax. We’ve got this.”

Together, you navigated through the crowd, exchanging casual small talk with people who stopped to say hi. Every so often, Caitlin would drape her arm around your shoulders or place a hand on your waist—just enough to keep up the charade without overdoing it. But each time she touched you, your heart skipped a beat. It was silly, you knew. This was all pretend.

At one point, Caitlin leaned in again, her breath warm against your skin. “Heads up, your ex is here.”

Your stomach clenched as you followed her gaze across the room. Sure enough, your ex was standing by the drinks table, deep in conversation with a group of mutual friends. A wave of anxiety swept through you, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself.

“Do you want to leave?” Caitlin asked softly, her voice full of genuine concern. She kept her body close to yours, as though shielding you from any awkward encounters.

“No,” you replied, shaking your head. “Let’s just… keep playing the part.”

Without missing a beat, Caitlin slipped her hand into your back pocket, pulling you a little closer. It was subtle, but anyone watching would definitely take notice. Your ex included.

You felt their eyes on you, the tension between you and Caitlin suddenly charged with an electricity you hadn’t expected. It was as though the air around you had shifted, and for a brief moment, you forgot this was all just an act.

---

**A Week Later: The Game**

The next week, Caitlin had a huge game. The Hawkeyes were facing off against one of their biggest rivals, and the entire campus was buzzing with excitement. As always, you were in the stands, cheering her on. But tonight, things felt… different.

Ever since the party, you and Caitlin had kept up the fake relationship act for your friends. And for the most part, it had been easy—almost too easy. There were moments when you could barely tell where the line between pretending and reality blurred.

Sometimes, when Caitlin grabbed your hand in between classes or smiled at you during practice, you’d catch yourself wondering if there was something real beneath it all. You’d shake the thought away, reminding yourself that this was all just for fun. But the more time you spent with her, the harder it became to convince yourself that you weren’t feeling something more.

The game that night was intense, as expected. Caitlin was on fire, driving down the court, draining three-pointers like she’d been doing it her whole life. The crowd erupted every time she scored, and you found yourself beaming with pride.

But your focus wasn’t entirely on the game. It was on Caitlin. The way she moved, the way she commanded the court with such confidence and skill—it was mesmerizing. She had this effortless grace about her, and you couldn’t help but feel a little awestruck every time you watched her play.

When the final buzzer rang out and Iowa secured the win, the gym exploded into cheers. You stood up, clapping and shouting with the rest of the crowd. Caitlin’s teammates rushed onto the court, congratulating her on yet another stellar performance. You were about to make your way down to join the celebration when you saw her break away from the group, her eyes scanning the stands.

Before you knew it, Caitlin was heading straight for you, her expression soft but determined. You barely had time to react before she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a tight, celebratory hug. The crowd went wild, assuming they were witnessing an adorable couple moment.

But when Caitlin set you back down on the ground, the look in her eyes wasn’t just for show. There was something else there. Something real.

Your heart thudded in your chest as she leaned in close, her forehead resting gently against yours. “We make a pretty good team, huh?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

You swallowed hard, your emotions suddenly all over the place. “Yeah,” you murmured, your voice soft. “We do.”

---

**Later: The Confession**

It wasn’t until later that night, after the post-game celebrations had wound down, that the tension between you two came to a head. You were both back at her apartment, sitting on her couch, the remnants of the adrenaline from the game still coursing through your veins.

Caitlin was scrolling through her phone, absentmindedly playing with the hem of her sweatshirt. You sat beside her, feeling the weight of unspoken words between you.

Finally, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Caitlin,” you said softly, your voice hesitant but determined.

She looked up, her expression curious. “What’s up?”

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. “I… I think I’m starting to have real feelings for you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Caitlin’s eyes widened, her phone forgotten as she stared at you in surprise. Your heart pounded in your chest, the vulnerability of your confession hanging heavy in the air.

But then, slowly, a small smile crept onto her face. “You know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Wait… what?”

Caitlin laughed softly, reaching out to take your hand. “I’ve been falling for you this whole time,” she admitted, her eyes searching yours. “This fake dating thing… it stopped feeling fake for me a while ago. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Your heart swelled at her words, a wave of relief washing over you. “So… this is real?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

Caitlin nodded, her thumb brushing gently across your knuckles. “Yeah,” she said, her voice soft but sure. “It’s real.”

Before you could even process what was happening, Caitlin leaned in, pressing her lips to yours in a soft, tender kiss. It was slow and sweet, filled with all the unspoken feelings that had been building between you for weeks. When she pulled back, her smile was radiant.

“I don’t want to pretend anymore,” Caitlin said, her voice barely a whisper as she looked into your eyes. “I want this. For real.”

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “Me too.”

Mia speaks

If you haven’t noticed I’ve been posting a lot today these are all my drafts I’m spending a few minutes fixing them all up and posting them

[bunnys-kisses]

could i order a smore, and a honey cruller, with an irish coffee served by oscar piastri ^-^

maybe established relationship with smoker!gf and oscar gets curious over summer break :3

bakery menu!

thank you for coming to the bakery, i hope you enjoy any orders you submit! the bunnies in the back at working hard as are your servers for the day! if you want submit your own order, check out the menu! thank you! for this lovely anon, thank you for the order! i hope you love it! (i love a good oscar story!)

s'more ("the accent gets to you, doesn't it?") + honey cruller ("i forget how small you are sometimes.") + irish coffee (high sex) served by oscar piastri (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, high (weed) sex, smoking, smoker!reader, slight size kink, accent kink, outdoor/backyard sex, partially clothed sex, cowgirl position

"g'day, mate!" you laughed as you kept the joint between two of your fingers. you almost fell over across the patio couch. you made sure not to hit the hot end of the joint against the wicker of the couch.

oscar rolled his eyes as he leaned up against the air of the chair he was seated on, "oh is that how i sound to you? do you expect for me to pull a kangaroo from behind my ear."

you took another inhale and said, "no. i hope for a wombat though. they're cuter!" then burst into another series of giggles.

"the accent gets to you, doesn't it?" oscar rolled his eyes and simply laughed at you. you were amazing, even when you were stoned. you laughed a little louder when he tried to mock your fake your accent of his accent.

it was summer break, time off felt good for the both of you. you had spent the last few races with him leading up to the break you both desired. it was nice in england this time of year, even when it was slightly drizzly. but tonight was a nice day. you knew that tomorrow was going to be rainy.

oscar had a beer in his hand while you smoked a joint. he tried not to think too hard about how you got your weed. but regardless, he was happy that you were feeling good today. smoking looked hot on you, even if the scent of weed lingered in his nose.

"i'm curious.. i've neevr tried some."

"ever smoked anything."

he replied, "smoked cigarettes a little bit for a few months. never quite caught on." of course it didn't oscar was too perfect to ever be a smoker, "can i try some?"

you nodded, "of course, never one to not share." you handed to joint to him. then carefully watched him inhale and then softly exhale with a bit of a cough. he watched him grin lazily.

there was nothing wrong with a little bit of weed. he was painfully hot a little stoned. he giggled a little when you took another drag. you leaned forward and blew smoke in his face which made him shudder. he relaxed against the patio chair. the soft birds chirping as you smoked.

"you look good, beautiful." he said with a smirk, "like really good. my beautiful girlfriend. brighter than the sun." he laughed a little bit as he spread his thighs a little bit. showing off the bulge in his basketball shorts. he patted his thigh, "i want a slower look."

you finished the joint before you put it out in the ashtray before you got up. you swayed a little from side to side and giggled loudly, "oh, you true seducer!"

you got into his lap on the chair. there was enough space on it for you to spread your legs on the seat of it to straddle your lover's waist. you licked your lips at him as you rubbed your clothed pussy against his clothed cock.

you kissed him on the mouth once before you struggled to get your shorts and panties off while in his lap before you straddled him once more. you shuddered as you felt his cock press against your entrance. you held onto his strong shoulders as he rubbed against you, "i forget how small you are sometimes. i sometimes wonder how you could ever take me."

you giggled a little, "stubborn." then got yourself fully seated on his cock. it made him shudder and say something in hushed whispers you didn't quite pick up on. you held onto his shoulders. the smell of weed was dissipating from around you as you moved up and down your boyfriend's cock.

oscar was a good boyfriend. the kind that would make anyone swoon. he remembered every birthday and anniversary. even the ones that you honestly didn't even remember yourself! he was caring and loved to make you feel like the center of his world.

he licked his lips, his gaze a little unfocused as you moved against him. he was for sure high, but then again, so were you. you held onto him as you worked yourself up and down his cock. he could feel the flash of heat in his body as he felt close to you.

your backyard was private, no one was going to know what you were doing. but your voices could carry, so to relieve that problem, the two of you kept kissing passionately. you whimpered into the kisses as he groped your ass with those strong hands of yours.

oscar was fairly stronger than you. the kind of build that turned heads. and he loved how small you felt in his grasp, that you were something so delicate that you could easily break in half. but he loved you too much to ever hurt you like that. he wanted to worship your body, feel you against him as his heart fluttered in his chest. you were painfully beautiful, even in the afternoon light as you rode him. both of you stoned

"i have to admit." you said, "your accent is really hot. one of the first things i noticed about you." you laughed as you continued to ride him, "it sounds really good when we're having sex. when you moan so much your voice goes a little hoarse. it's hot." you purred.

he felt a shudder through his body as you rode him. even his thin t-shirt felt like too much clothing on him. but he'd get it all off when you got inside. he didn't realize how good sex felt when he was a little buzzed, no wonder you enjoyed a good joint and some oral sex. everything felt heightened and it felt really good with your cute cunt wrapped around his hard cock.

you two continued to fuck on the patio furniture. your kisses grew more needy as the two of you moved together in a sexual passion. you hand onto oscar's hair as you moved up and down his cock. you felt hot all over.

he stretched out his legs a little bit as he felt the heavy heat in his stomach. he tensed up and gripped onto your thighs a little harder as he came inside of you. he shuddered and felt the heat spread through his body. and you in turn continued to move up and down his cock. you pushed your hair out of your face as you rode him.

"oscar."

"i know beautiful." he said as he kissed you once more. you came around his cock, your grip tightly on him as you hit your peak. it made everything feel hot in your body.

you slowed down your thrusts and rested against his chest. your breathing heavy and the intensity of your orgasm was overwhelming. it was very hot.

"i didn't know weed was so good." he chuckled as he held onto your soft hips and rubbed his softening cock up against you. he kissed you once more.

you chuckled, "be careful, honey. you get drug tested remember." you got off his lap with shaky legs and tried to find your panties on the ground. he watched you and even leaned over to give your ass a pat when you were close enough. which made you jump a little.

he said, "i think i've had a little too much sun. why don't we get inside and i can see you fully naked. i'm still feeling pretty girl and i want to see how easily you come still." then tucked his cock back into his shorts and got up. he rubbed his forehead at the intensity of the high. he was a little shaky as the two of you led him back into your home.

maybe he'd let himself smoke once in a while. especially if it was with you, maybe after another round inside you two could share another joint. so he could get a real taste of it. <3

[darksigns-exe]

a thousand flowers could bloom - noah sebastian x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: swearing, dry humping, big feelings

note: by request from an anon <3 im so sorry that it's taking me FOREVER to get to these.

Finding Noah in your apartment like this isn’t unusual. Over the course of your friendship, you got used to Noah taking full advantages of the spare key you had given him. Most of the time he announces himself with a quick text, but on occasion he’ll already be there by the time you come home from work, the store or some social obligation. 

Today was one of those occasions. He’s stretched out over the length of your two-seater when you unlock the door, feet dangling over the edge of it. It’s fairly late, and he seemingly hadn’t even bothered to turn on the lights before he’d made a home for himself on your sofa. Noah is so fast asleep that he doesn’t notice you moving around the room, he only stirs when you find a place for yourself amongst his limbs. He stretches with a stifled groan, blinking up at you, still firmly held in the grasp of sleep.

“When did you get back?” he asks, voice still a little rough. 

It’s so awfully domestic. 

There’s really no denying it. What you feel for him can’t be just friendship. Moment’s like this make you feel as if you’re about one step away from your relationship becoming more than that, but at the same time you know how difficult it can be to be with someone like him. The touring and the other demands of his line work already make it difficult to be his friend. And even then, you don’t even know if he wants you like that. 

Realising that you’ve been silent for a moment too long, you shake yourself out of your silence. 

“Half an hour ago, maybe?” you reply. 

He squints at you for a moment before breaking into a smile, “I had to get out of the house for a bit, hope I didn’t interrupt any plans?”

In a way he did, but Noah doesn’t need to know about that. 

“You’re good.”

You adjust your position as he sits up, giving you a little more space. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Noah announces then. 

As if you’d expect anything else from him, the boy is somehow always hungry. 

“I’m surprised that you didn’t order anything before I got here.” you counter, “Our usual place is closed today, so you’ll have to settle for something else.” 

From the sigh he lets out, you’d think that the greatest of tragedies had just struck him. Eventually, he grumbles out a resigned fine, and you’re so sure that you can see him rolling his eyes like a petulant child. You settle on a different restaurant but realise too late that this place has an expected delivery time of almost an hour. 

You decide to put a record onto the turntable while you wait and settle on a favourite of yours. 

Dummy by Portishead. 

The soft pulsing beat of the opening track settles you into a comfortable mood. With your legs thrown over Noah’s lap, you’re more than comfortable. Your idle chatter is interrupted when Noah’s phone dings with a notification that lets you know that your delivery will be delayed by a good twenty minutes. 

The delay quickly flees your mind when his hand settles a little too high on your thigh. The touch is innocent enough, really, and maybe it’s only the music that makes it feel like more than it actually is. But you can’t deny the warm feeling that spreads throughout your body. 

The conversation steering into a more intimate direction doesn’t exactly help your situation. It’s not uncommon for the two of you to talk about your relationships, although you’ve noticed that Noah has talked less about seeing people in recent months. When he would sometimes tell you about the people he went out with, he’d been suspiciously silent on the matter recently, and you can’t help but wonder if he isn’t seeing anyone or if he’s just not telling you about it. 

“I don’t know, it just feels like everyone’s a disappointment, you know? I don’t know if my expectations are too high or if people are just shit.” you conclude your rant about the state of your love life. 

Noah eyes you for a moment, “And what do you expect?” Your breath catches in your throat when you look at him. He’s never looked at you like this before – or if he has, you’d never noticed. His eyes are blown wide, lips caught between his teeth. Somehow, you already know that whatever you’re about to tell him will change things between you. 

“I guess I just want someone to want me, if that make sense? I don’t think I’m asking for too much with that.” 

Noah clears his throat. His hand pulses on your thigh, and you’re acutely aware of how intensely he’s pinning you down with his stare. “Oh, absolutely not.” his hand wanders up your thigh so tentatively, “Maybe you’ve been looking in the wrong place.” 

Your heart thumps in your chest. 

Surely he isn’t insinuating what is spinning around in your head. 

“Do you think so?” 

You sit up, but don’t quite detach yourself from him yet. Your palms feel awfully sweaty, and you have to force yourself to take deep breaths. 

In the moments before he answers, you feel yourself spiralling through all kinds of scenarios. 

“I don’t know, maybe you should look a little closer to home.” 

His hand settles above your hip. It doesn’t feel foreign, you’ve always been a bit more tactile with each other. You know that part of what has been holding you back from falling into bed with just anyone has been the high expectation you have for your first real sexual encounter. Sure, you’ve made out with people, but it never turned into more. Something had always felt off. 

Something you don’t feel right now. 

“Noah?” you ask quietly, afraid to break this delicate moment. 

“Yes?” his reply sound just as trembling as you feel. 

You can’t find the right words then. Suddenly, everything you could say feels so out of place, so insignificant. 

Thankfully, Noah seems to sense your predicament. 

“Look at me for a moment, will you?” he says softly, drawing your attention to him, “Nothing has to happen here unless that’s what you want. I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything. We can just put a pin in this and come back to it when you’re ready for it.” 

As much as you appreciate his concern for you, right now your mind is set on a single track. You don’t know where the confidence suddenly comes from, but you’re glad that it finds you. It takes Noah a moment to catch up when your lips meet his. A second later, his hand finds the side of your face. When you part, his cheeks are tinged bright pink. 

You can’t stay away from him for long, though. Y0u scramble towards him, coming to rest atop his thigh. His arms wrap around your body, keeping you close to him. Noah pushes his thigh upward, bringing it into contact with your centre. It’s just a small touch, lessened by the fabric of your shorts, but it still sends a spike of heat up your spine. 

You feel a little out of your depth with this. In theory, you know what you’re supposed to do, but in practice it feels so daunting. And when you pull away from his lips, Noah’s face immediately twists into a concerned furrow. 

“Is everything okay? Too much?” 

His hands settle on your waist, as he fixes you with just so much worry. 

“I just don’t know – I don’t know what I’m doing.” You admit feeling a little more foolish than you’d like to admit. 

The concern fades into something softer, “Do you want me to help, love?”

You nod, unable to find your voice. 

“Alright. Okay.” you can tell that he’s sorting through his thoughts, “Tell me if something doesn’t feel good, okay?”

“I will.” 

A faint smile plays on his lips, “Good.”

With his hands still holding onto your waist, he brings his thigh back into contact with you. The rhythm he helps you find is slow enough, and you find yourself taking over fairly quickly. Noah keeps one hand on your waist, while the other moves up the side of your body, creeping up towards your ribs. His thigh shifts beneath you, drawing a hitched breath from you. 

“Is that good?” he asks softly, his gazed fixed on your face. 

You can only nod, feeling much too overwhelmed to vocalise how you feel beyond the soft sighs that have been pouring from your lips. 

Noah pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around your body once more. Your hips move against him seemingly on their own. It’s so dizzying. If you already feel like this with this many layers of clothing separating you, how good will it feel when you can actually feel his skin against yours? 

You feel Noah bury his face in the side of your neck, shifting his body, allowing you to feel how much this affects him too. He moans against your skin when you move against him a little more intentionally. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” you speak into the crook of your neck, lips barely lifting from your skin. 

Your fingers twist into his hair, trying to keep him there as best as you can. The sound he makes when you tug at it a little makes you shiver. 

“Noah.” you sigh. 

The pleasant sting of him sucking a bruise into your skin makes your head spin even more. That knot in your middle feels so tight already, even with so much separating you. 

“Lie down for me, love?” 

His face is so soft, cheeks flushed, lips spit-slicked. 

Noah helps you shift onto your back and covers your body with his as soon as you’re resting against the cushions. He hovers above you for a moment longer, gazing down at you with an impossible softness. And just as he leans down to kiss you again, the aggravating sound of your doorbell tears through the moment. 

His forehead drops to your shoulder as he lets out a heavy sigh. 

Noah presses a quick kiss to your lips before he lifts himself off you again. Your eyes fall shut for a second as you try to make sense of what just happened. 

I’ve wanted this for so long.

The words spin around your head. He wanted this – you. 

When you open your eyes and sit up, Noah is still talking to the delivery person. He returns to you a moment later, placing the bags on your coffee table. He sits next to you, wringing his hands together for a moment before he turns towards you. 

“We should talk about this.” he sounds so awfully hesitant, “I don’t want us to feel weird – I really don’t want you to feel as if I’m forcing something –” 

Instead of letting him ramble on into oblivion, you take the initiative and press a chaste kiss to his lips, effectively shutting him up. 

“Or we could eat and finish this later. You’re not the only one who’s been waiting for this.” It takes a second for your words to reach his head, but when they do, he gives you an almost wicked smile. 

“Oh, we will absolutely finish this later.”

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake

[sadhours]

the diner - part one

billy hargrove x fem!reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, stalking, murder, toxic relationship, trauma, hallucinations, flayed!billy, peeping Tom, masturbation briefly mentioned, horror

He survived. Somehow— someway. Billy survived. Took care of what he should have so long ago. But that monster lingers, still alive within him.

You’re an innocent girl who works next door to him and he can’t help himself. Could you help him or is he too sick?

read on ao3

part two

Rain slips down, leaving clean streaks across the scum splattered front window of the shop. It’s deep into the evening, town’s asleep except for the truck stop directly next door. Bright lights illuminating the gas pumps, convenience store and the 50’s style diner. The one you work at.

And in the darkness of Route One Garage, Billy stands at the window. Watching. Eyes following as your hair bobs up and down with your steps as you run around the diner. Taking orders, filling coffee cups, carrying hot plates of greasy food made on grills cleaned less often than the health department wants. He’s eaten there, knows you can taste the filth in the food. But it’s the only place to get food this late for miles. The place is full of truckers, different faces but they might as well be the same copy of a person. In and out all day long. Billy’s seen the way they talk to you, been witness to it and just sat there with his blood boiling. Didn’t do anything about it because he’s a pussy and also, because you don’t know him. Sure, he comes in semi-regularly but he doesn’t really talk to you. He can’t for some reason. But before he moved to this teeny, shithole of a place, Billy wasn’t like this. He could talk to any woman. You didn’t look at him like most women did, though.

He watches you like this almost every night. Every night you’re there. Fantasizes about the things he wants to do to you. Sometimes those things are questionable, violent even but sometimes they’re just fantasies of talking to you— making you fall in love.

But he did something that woke up these dark demons deep in him. Well, two things.

Billy still has visions of the shape shifting monster. Haunts his dreams. Recalls each time he led an innocent person to the monster. Regretted not leading his father to the monster. So when he crawled out of the slimy, pulsing portal. He found his dad. Did what he’d always been too weak to do. Billy wonders if that monster still possesses him. If there’s still some of those black, gunky slugs in his stomach. Puked them up for weeks, it felt like.

But he’s thousands of miles from Hawkins. Though it feels like part of him is still contaminated. Made him reclusive, awkward, scarred up. Maybe that’s why he’s scared to talk to you. He knows he doesn’t look like he used to. His hair’s longer, his eyes are darker, his body has starfish shaped scars patterned all over. That charm has been evacuated. He’s not as suave.

Obsessive. That’s how he is now and he knows it but he can’t stop himself.

Billy knows where you work, he knows what you drive and he knows where you live. He has the name of your boss, your parents and your ex boyfriend. He’s followed you to the dive bar in town, walked around the general store and kept his eye on you and the things you buy. He’s full blown stalking you. It’s not his fault, though. That monster gave him this sickness and this town gave him loneliness. A recipe for disaster.

And you’re just so fucking pretty. The way your face lights up when you smile stains his eyes when he closes them. If he focuses hard enough he can hear your voice. Same script over and over.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Shop busy, today?”

“Usual tonight?”

“Coffee, eggs over easy, hash browns , extra bacon and sausage, right?”

“Want some more coffee?”

“Anything else tonight? Maybe some apple pie?”

“Ya sure? It’s really good apple pie, I promise.”

“I’ll just get your check, then.”

Sometimes Billy can finish when he’s thinking about those words. Which is sick and he knows that but he feels like he can’t help himself. Wonders what you think of him. You’re not a bitch or anything but you don’t ever look at him like girls used to look at him. Nothing like the moms laid out by the pool. Not like you think he’s good looking but like he’s any other face you see. Which infuriates him but makes him sad about himself more than anything. Occasionally he looks at himself in the mirror until he feels sick. Until he sees his dad. Tells himself he needs a haircut, needs to shave the mustache. Sleep more so he can lose the bags under his eyes. Maybe you’d look at him differently.

The lights flicker, buzz loud enough he can hear it in the shop. He leaves. Locks up the place and his boots take him to the diner. To the same booth he always sits in. Lights up a smoke and meets your eyes from across the place. You don’t flush the way girls used to. In fact, Billy can’t register any kind of reaction on your face. So he flicks his ash on the floor because you’ll have to sweep it up and it feels like he won. Won what? He doesn’t really know, but he wants you to clean up his mess. Gives him some kind of satisfaction.

The script starts when you walk up. A variation of it.

“Late tonight,” you say, filling up his coffee cup without asking. “Must be busy.”

“Sure,” he says. Always keeps it short because you don’t meet his eyes and he can’t meet yours. Instead he stares at your hands, pretty fingers wrapped around the carafe’s handle.

You walk away. To put the coffee away he guesses. Stares at the mug, wraps his own fingers around it and takes a careful sip. His eyes find you behind the counter, giving a look of disdain to your coworker who said something and then you grin. Laugh at whatever she said to you. Then you’re back at his booth and his eyes fall to the table as the script resumes.

“Usual?”

“Yeah.”

“Eggs over easy, hash browns, extra bacon and sausage,” you recite from memory and Billy gets a bit of satisfaction from it. Proud of you for some reason.

“You remember,” he says, low and steady.

You scoff and chuckle, the sound makes his thighs tighten and you say, “Kind of hard to forget it. You’ve never changed it.”

Bold for some reason, he replies, “Maybe I should.”

“We do have a whole six pages on that menu. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you open it, though,” you offer and this is new. It’s off script. Both you and him.

Billy smirks, flips open the menu and peers down at the first page. It’s greasy, a stain of sticky jam at the top left corner and he immediately catches a typo. He purses his lips and continues to flick through it. You pull the notepad from your apron but he’s too nervous to look up at your face. He flips another page and then, finally, looks up at your face.

“What do you like?”

You look shocked. He likes that.

“Uh,” you laugh, a soft little sound and Billy’s skin is hot. “Our patty melt is pretty damn good.”

He closes the menu, slides to the end of the table as he replies, “I’ll have that then.”

“Wow, you’re full of surprises tonight,” you quip, “Fries or potato salad.”

“Why don’t you give me a surprise,” Billy says and then looks away because you’re too fucking gorgeous and he’s on a roll. Kind of feels like his old self right now and looking at you would fuck that up.

You pick up the menu and laugh again, “Sure thing.”

You walk away and he takes a hit of his neglected cigarette, ash falling to the table as he does so. Another mess of his for you to clean. Makes his whole body tingle at the thought. You don’t check on him before his food is done. But Billy keeps checking on you, eyes bouncing up to follow you as you work. Finishes his cigarette and coffee. Takes in the uniform you’re in. The big, bold name on the pin clasped into your blouse.

When you bring his food, you ask, “Got anymore surprises for me tonight?” and his mind runs wild. Sick fantasies. Ideas that make him feel guilty and the charm he’d felt after years slips far, far away.

“No.”

But you say, “Good. Don’t wanna overwhelm me too much.”

You fill his coffee again and walk away. Then he eats and the script resumes as normal. He pays. Sits in his car until all the lights in the diner shut off. Watches you walk to your car, waits a beat after you drive off before he starts his car and follows you. To your house. Keeps waiting until you go inside to park behind your car on the street and watch the numerous lights flick on and off. Aiding in him as he imagines exactly how your night plays out. He thinks you go into the kitchen first. Maybe you get a drink, perhaps a beer. When he’s followed you to the bar, he’s seen you drink beer. Then that lights flicks off and the TV turns on. Can see the variety of brightness and colors through the window. He thinks of what you might watch. Imagines sitting on the couch with you, cuddled up. His thoughts get perverted quickly and before he knows it, he’s staring at your window with his dick in his hand with the fantasy of your mouth on him.

After he finishes, he’s still watching. Until the changing lights of the TV go black and a different light turns on. Bathroom. That window is small. You brush your teeth, maybe wash your face. He takes this time to get out of his car, walk to the window on the side of the house, crouch down and peer through the broken blinds. Your bedroom. You turn the light on, back to the bathroom to turn that light off and return. Close your door and undress. You sleep nude but you keep a robe next to your bed. You flick off the light. Sink into bed and Billy stays for a while. Until he knows you’re asleep. He thinks about sneaking inside but he hasn’t gathered the gusto to do so yet. The whole watching you through the window is new enough. But he’ll escalate soon. Won’t be able to help himself.

Then Billy goes home. Back to his shady little apartment. Falls asleep on the couch with infomercials playing on the TV. He’ll wake up and do the same thing again tomorrow.

—

Dark tendrils wrap around his wrists and ankles. Pull him in opposite directions. His eyes are wide open but his body feels paralyzed. He tries to scream but it’s gargled and there’s a monster limb attaching to his mouth, pulsing down his throat. Fills his belly with baby slugs. The sticky limb retreats him and the constraints on his ankles and wrists unravel and he’s shaking. Thrashing. Screaming. Crying. Pleading.

Then Billy’s awake, sits up straight and pants. Looks around his room and there’s nothing there. Just him and the mess of his belongings. He cries. Then he showers. Makes himself vomit and he sees no slugs. No sludge. Just the dinner and foamy beers he had. Billy showers, water so hot it burns— turns his skin patchy red and tingly. He vomits again. Watches the sick circle the drain. Cries some more. Feels the loneliest he’s ever been. Wonders why he can’t kill himself. Why he doesn’t have the strength to do that.

He’s up too early. Doesn’t work for another three hours. Billy paces his apartment. Chain smokes and pounds coffee. He briefly thinks of Maxine. Stalks over to his freezer and reaches in it for the bottle of vodka he keeps in there and guzzles some of it down. Drowns out Max. Maybe he should make sure you get to work safe. He has to do something. Anything.

The drive to your house is routine, but he doesn’t often do it in daylight. Can’t risk you seeing him, so Billy parks a couple houses down. Chain smokes while he waits and soon enough, you’re walking to your car.

[jennasslut33]

Cairo Sweet x Masc!Fem!Reader

Cairo, Winnie, and R/Reader are classmates. R is in love with Cairo but she doesn’t reciprocate her feelings, not yet at least, and Cairo uses R to make someone else jealous. R has enough of this and decides to forget about Cairo. R and Winnie are besties.

Maybe a smut scene? At the end?

Top!Reader x Bottom!Cairo

If it doesn't fit, it doesn't!

It can and in multiple ways. I vote for the happy ending, but if you feel like you want more angsty ending, I understand! Plus, if you don't want to write about this, it's perfectly fine too!

Thank you, Hope you are doing well!

My pretty girl.

Warnings: smut, 18+, angst a bit?, fingering, praise, pussy eating, Masc!Fem!Reader x Cairo Sweet, top!r, bottom!Cairo.

MNDI!!

it was a normal day for you. You were currently sitting in cairos bedroom of her parents mansion that they left her while they were away. Cairo was studying - as per usual, smoking a cigarette - while you and Winnie were sitting on cairos queen sized bed.

You, you however were in love with cairo. Did she know that? Absolutely fucking not. Because you didn’t know how she felt about you. You didnt wanna take any chances, and ruin the friendship you and cairo have.

While you were lost in thought, staring at a wall, you felt a hand on your thigh, and someone shaking you back to reality and out of your thoughts. When you looked up, you saw cairo and Winnie staring at you, Winnie’s hand on your thigh.

“Are you good? We’ve been callin’ your name for like.. the past two minutes.” Winnie said, looking at you. You blinked a few times, you saw how cairo was looking at you; one of her perfect eyebrows raised in confusion and question, her perfect maroon lips wrapping around the filter of the cigarette— ugh, god, focus!

“hm? o-oh uhm.. yeah! y-yeah, im fine. I just uh.. spaced out for a second. Sorry.” You said, trying act like you weren’t imagining the best way to ask out cairo without ruining your friendship with her.

Winnie raised an eyebrow at you. “what were you thinking about that you couldn’t hear us screaming in your ear for a good two minutes?” she chuckled. You looked at cairo, and then back at Winnie.

“o-oh uhm.. just uhm.. t-tests.. that we have for school.. just wondering if im gonna pass or not..” you lied, because there was no way in fucking hell. That you were gonna admit that you were thinking about how to ask out Cairo, WHILE she was in the room.

“You’re a smart girl, Y/N. I’m sure you did fine, you always get straight A’s, don’t you?” Cairo said, before taking a drag of her cigarette. “Well, sometimes not everything is gonna stay perfect.. I mean, I don’t know Jack shit about the world war. I tried to get as much information as I could, but I really couldn’t. I had such a busy schedule that I didn’t have enough time to study!” You exclaimed quickly, clearly in a bit of a panic. Because, well.. that also did happen.

“hey, hey! Calm down, girl. So what if you get something lower than an A? It don’t matter, all that matters is that you try your hardest, doll face” Winnie reassures. You sigh. You lay back on Cairos bed, and put your hands over your eyes. “God, im so fucking tired..” you say under your breath “then sleep.” Cairo said randomly. You sat up and looked at her.

“In your bed? Seriously?” You said with a raised eyebrow and a questioning tone of voice.. maybe a hint of sarcasm. “Yes, my bed. You’re already laying in it, and the floor is uncomfortable. Just sleep, Y/N” she said, clearly not in the mood for anyone’s bullshit.

“ugh, fine. You’re so bossy.” You said, laying back down and Winnie- well.. she was already knocked out cold on the couch next to the window.

About an hour goes by, and you feel someone’s arms wrapped around you from behind.. you were a masc.. “I don’t think this is how it works.. but uhm.. alright..” you think to yourself. You were just sleeping, and when you turned your head, your face went a bit red. Cairo?? why was she cuddling you?

“go back to sleep..” she said, mumbled into your neck. “why’re you cuddling me?” You asked quietly, not wanting to wake up Winnie. “because, you’re warm.” She said as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You rolled your eyes and you went back to sleep, exhaustion taking over your body.

. . .

The next morning, you wake up and have a shower, do what you need to and get ready. Winnie and cairo were already up. You all walked to the school, following cairo because she knows where she’s going, since she does this every damn day.

When you, Winnie and cairo all got to school, all three of you were standing in the packed hallway, it was filled with students. 7:48 in the morning, “how the fuck do these kids have so much energy at this time of the morning..” you think to yourself.

Cairo saw the girl she liked, being touchy and flirty with another guy, and all of a sudden, you feel someone wrap your arms around their waist. You looked down and saw cairo.

“What’re you doing?” You asked, your eyebrow raised in confusion. You didn’t know that cairo liked someone else. “Nothing, just hold me, please? im cold.” She said, looking up at you. You smiled and held you tight against you.

Winnie wiggled her eyebrows at you, a small smirk on her face and you rolled your eyes and mouthed “shut up” to Winnie, making her giggle.

. . .

Ever since that day, it’s been about almost two months. You think that cairo likes you back, because she’s been touchy, flirty, calling you pet names and letting you sleep in her bed a lot more often.

Today was the day, you were gonna ask her out. you walked into school, and after the first two periods it was break, and you went to go find Cairo. Your heart slamming against your rib cage, you feel like you’re on one of those carnival rides, where they go up really high and then drop, and it makes your stomach feel like your insides were all the way up to your head.

You walked around for a while, and when you walked behind the school, you froze. Your eyes were wide, your heart broke into a million pieces. Cairo was making out with that girl she likes. Tears well up in your eyes. You feel so.. used, betrayed, hurt, angry, just a whole mix of emotions.

You ran off, and you went to go find Winnie. Once you did, you told her everything, and you couldn’t stop crying. You were just some toy for cairo to use, to make that girl jealous. Almost as if cairo never even wanted you in the first place. 

the next few weeks, you became more distant, you didn’t go near cairo, you and Winnie stayed together. Whenever cairo would try to talk to you, you’d push past her and walk off, and go find Winnie.

. . .

Late one night, you got a text.

Cairo <3 (9:32 PM)

“Y/N, please talk to me. Why won’t you talk to me anymore?”

“You don’t even look at me anymore..”

you stared at those texts for a good five minutes. maybe even ten. you then replied back, your thumbs gliding across the screen as you texted back.

“You toyed with me, fucked with my feelings, and you used me to make another girl jealous?? What the fuck is wrong with you, cairo.”

your text was read immediately by Cairo, the three dots popping up on your screen that showed she was typing. while you waited, you scrolled through your social media until you saw her text pop up.

Cairo <3 (9:35 PM)

“im sorry, Y/N. But I really liked her, and she made me jealous, so I wanted to make her jealous..”

“please, I’ll make it up to you. I don’t want her anymore, I want you.”

“I miss you, Y/N.”

“Please, let me make it up to you”

you stared at the texts. You didn’t know if she was trying to get you back for her to use you again, or if she really wanted you to come back to her.

“Whatever. I’ll be over in 20 minutes.”

you got ready, and then got an Uber to Cairos mansion.

23 minutes later..

You finally arrived at her mansion and you walked inside. You walked up the large grand staircase and went to her room. You saw her laying on her bed, and when she saw you, she immediately stood up and went to run to you. You backed up.

“Y/N.. please I—“

“Shut up.” You said coldly, cutting her off. She looked taken aback, but she shut her mouth.

“Do you still want me, Cairo?” you asked, walking towards her slowly.

“y-yes..” she said quietly. she looked up at you, and you grabbed her chin between your thumb and index finger.

“She’s gone now, yes?” you asked, wanting nothing but the truth out of her pretty little mouth. all she did was nod.

“Do you want to be mine, cairo? Do you want me to make you mine?” you asked, your left hand now gripping her waist while your right hand was still holding her chin.

“yes.. please..” she said in a whisper.

“get on the bed.” “Now.” You demanded, which she obeyed immediately without question. You got on the bed as well, and you sat in front of her legs.

“Spread you legs for me.” you said, looking at her through your lashes. She did as she was told, spreading her legs wide. You straddled her hips, and leaned down, capturing her lips in a fierce, passionate kiss. your tongues sliding together, lips moving against each other in rhythm.

You kissed along her jaw, down her neck, and all over her tits, kissing any part of that sweet, smooth, soft, squishy flesh of hers that was visible. You kissed down her stomach, nipping at her skin every now and then, and that’s when you made it to between her thighs. You looked at her.

“Lift up.” You said, your fingers hovering above the waistband of her shorts, she obeyed, lifting her hips as you swiftly pulled her shorts and panties down, taking them off. You positioned yourself between her thighs, and pressed kisses, and gentle nips on her inner thighs. Her pussy was already dripping for you.

“Y-Y/N.. please..” she whined. You smirked, and you looked at her. “Please what? Use your words, Cairo.” You said as you continued to kiss and nip at her inner thighs, getting closer and closer to her dripping core.

“please.. I need you.. i-i want to be yours, Y/N.. please..” she begged. God, it was like music to your ears. “Good girl.” You praised, and your tongue then darted out, flicking over her clit as she gasped and moaned, those sweet, sweet sounds you had always longed to hear.

You continued to suck on the sensitive bundle of nerves, until you slammed two fingers inside of her aching cunt, making her gasp in surprise and pleasure. You didn’t move them just yet. You wanted to hear her beg.

“w-why.. mmh.. w-why aren’t you moving..?” she said through heavy breaths. You pulled away from her clit, your fingers still inside of her. “beg for it.” “You want me to finger this pussy, then beg for it, Cairo.” You demanded. Her eyes widened slightly. “w-what..? w-why do I have to—“ you cut her off “do you want to cum or not?” you questioned, looking at her. she nodded, and whined softly as she could still feel your long, slender fingers inside of her, but not moving. “please.. Y-Y/N..” she begged. “Please what? use your words.” You said teasingly. “please.. please, Y/N, i-i.. I want you to fuck me..” she said through soft whines and heavy breaths.

“There you go. Good girl.” you praised, before taking your fingers out and then slamming them back into her. Your fingers pumping in and out of her aching wet pussy as she gripped the bedsheets so tight her knuckles turned white. She moaned, whimpered, begging you to slow down because she couldn’t take it, but you didn’t oblige. Your goal was to make sure that she wasn’t gonna see that other bitch again, that she was utterly, and completely yours.

“mmh.. I-I wanna—“ she said through moans, her own moan cutting her off mid sentence. “you wanna what? talk, doll face.” you said, still fingering her at a brutal, and senseless pace. “c-cum! w-wanna cum, please!” She begging through loud moans. You could tell she was close, her velvet coloured walls clenching tightly around your fingers as you then curled them upwards, hitting the sweet, soft, spongy spot inside of her, making her gasp.

“Cum for me, cairo.” “I wanna hear you scream.” you said, not slowing your pace. As you kept going, and hit that sweet spot inside of her, her back arched off of the bed slightly, eyes rolled to the back of her head, as she screamed with pure pleasure. Her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave.

you helped her ride out her high, finally slowing down your movements, and pulled your fingers out of her. Your fingers now coated in her sweet juices. you put your fingers in your mouth, tasting her. “Mmh.. you taste so good.” you then pulled your fingers out of your mouth. you kissed Cairos forehead, and caressed her cheek.

“You did so well for me, baby.” You praised, looking at her as you smiled softly. You cleaned cairo up, and cuddled with her in bed, spooning her from behind, your arms wrapped around her waist, your face buried into the back of her neck.

All of a sudden, Winnie walked in, jaw dropped. “What. The fuck. Did I just listen to.” She said, looking at you and cairo. “What the actual fuck, are you doing here? You heard everything?” You said, slight disbelief in your tone. “Yes, I heard everything. Goddamn, who knew you were such a dom, Y/N.” She smirked, looking at you. You rolled your eyes and looked at her. But she spoke before you could.

“Sooo..? What’s the deal? Are you two finally together now?” She asked, a hint of hope, amusement, and a tinge of excitement in her voice as she bit her lip, awaiting an answer. “Yeah, we are. She’s mine now.” You said, looking back at cairo who was now fast asleep.

“My pretty girl.”

you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Cairos neck, before closing your eyes and falling asleep.

________________________________

I hope this is good enough for you btw😭💕

I am still currently working on Keep Quiet pt.2 tho, so stick around pookies💋💋

[girliism]

you don’t when it happened but you knew you felt it. patrick falling out of love with you, after twelve long years of marriage. but what had caused it? was it when you gave birth to your son? did he now find your body unattractive? couldn’t have been that, he made sure to tell you how beautiful you were, he worshiped you now no less than he did before, even giving you a daughter two years later. was it when you asked him to retire after he lost the us opening? “pat, maybe it’s time-” patrick stood up abruptly. “no. i’m not retiring, not yet, i still have one good season left in me.” or maybe it was when he started to rekindle with his recently divorced old girlfriend. “tashi said she’d coach me.” patrick said. you didn’t know how to feel as you watched him dry himself off. tashi the gorgeous ex girlfriend that he had weird history with. “oh… tashi.” patrick gave you that look he often gave your son when he was unimpressed with his goofing around during practice. “it’s not like that.” no, it was before that, when him forgetting little things like to kiss you goodbye when he left in the morning, or how he stopped sending you a good night message when he wouldn’t be home in time, turned into him forgetting your wedding anniversary.

“my parents have the kids tonight so it’ll be just us.” you laying on the massage table next to your best friend. the whole day was spent getting your hair and nails done, your body fully waxed and now massaged. “are you gonna do the steak and potatoes or the alfredo?” you hummed thinking. “probably the steak, i just bought this wine that’ll be perfect for it.” so you spent hours making steak just how he liked it, roasting potatoes so they were that perfectly crispy but not burnt. you put on a new dress and wore that perfume he loved, only to wait hours for him to get home. it was 1 am. you scraped your fork back and forth on your empty plate as you stared at the clock. 1:01 am. 29 minutes late patrick stumbled in. drunk. “where were you?” your voice was soft as you watched patrick trip over his own feet. “shit! fucking scared me.” patrick laughed, taking in your appearance. “why are you so dressed up?” you stared blankly at him. “do you what today is?” there’s no way he could have forgotten. right? “saturday.” “the date, patrick, what’s the date.” you were practically begging him to remember. patrick closed his eyes for a second trying to get his half drunk mind to remember. “it’s uh. fuck, the 15th it’s the 15th.” “of may patrick!” you yell at him, trying to hide the fact you were about to cry. you could tell when he finally understood. patrick’s head fell and a deep sigh left him. “shit, baby i’m so sorry” you turned away from him. “the guys, they wanted to get drinks after practice and i lost track of time.” patrick whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist dropping kisses on your shoulder. but he didn’t just forget cause he was out with friends. you thought back on the whole day, how no flowers greeted you when you woke up like usual, or how he didn’t call you to tell you something random that happened at your wedding that you surely forgot but he didn’t cause that day was on repeat in his mind. “there’s food on the table.” you walked away from him, wiping the tears that were falling fast.

the sound of padded feet running down the hall snaps you back to the present as you tear your eyes away from your wedding ring. “mommy, can we make pizza now.” your daughter plopped her little body next to you on the bed. sometimes you wonder if your genes even put up a fight as you stare down at the little girl who looked exactly like her father. “yeah, go grab your brother and i’ll meet you down stairs.” you tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear, watching her running out the room. it was friday, and the kids have been begging for a family pizza making night and patrick finally had an off day. “have you seen my watch, the gold one?” patrick rushes around the room dressed oddly nice. “where are you going?” patrick freezes in the hall. “to uh meet with tashi, she wants us to look over some prints for a campaign.” tashi. “but, tonight we’re supposed to be making pizza, it’s literally all the kids have been asking me about.” you followed patrick to the front door. “i’m really sorry honey, but these prints they have to go out at a certain time and tashi she wants us to look over them together.” it was like that now a days, if tashi called patrick came running. “but daddy, it’s pizza night.” your daughter pouted, dressed up in a little chef outfit. “i know, princess and daddy is very sorry, wait for me a bedtime, i’ll read to you tonight.” your daughter nod saying goodbye before running back into the kitchen. “i want be long.” “ok, i love yo-” the door was slammed.

patrick wasn’t back by bedtime. “he probably just got caught up baby, he’ll read to you next time.” you had to explain to your daughter. you got a sick wave of deja vu siting there at the dinner table. waiting, waiting, and waiting. when patrick got home the house was dark and the stairs creaked as he crept up them. “how was it.” patrick jumped a little, not expecting to see you just sitting there. “fine.” patrick cleared his throat walking into the walk in closet. you smelt it in the air when he walked past. her perfume. it wasn’t faint either, it was as if he rolled around in it. “you smell like her.” patrick let out a sigh walking right past to the bathroom. “we hugged goodbye.” he was hiding something, you could see it in his desperation to get away from you. “did you fuck her?” time froze for a second, the only sounds being the breathing coming from you and patrick. “what?” “did you fuck her, did you have sex with tashi.” you weren’t backing off. “wh-why would i do that? you, you’re crazy.” you weren’t. “answer the question patrick.” tears welled up in your eyes, voice cracking, but you refused to cry. “just fucking answer me.” your voice was loud but still low enough not to wake the kids. patrick squeezed his eyes shut, pinching his nose bridge in annoyance. “i’m not gonna answer such a stupid fucking question.” you huffed. “fine, then do you still love me?” please just say yes and tell me in being paranoid. you thought, picking at the skin of your finger nail. patrick turned to face for the first time since he got back. “of course i do.” the tears you were holding back finally slip when patrick places his hands on your cheeks. you felt that the sliver band that usually rest on his ring finger wasn’t there. you pulled his hand from your cheek stroking over the empty spot. “love.” patrick whispered. “wait wait, please i can explain. it was just this one time, it ment nothing, i love you, please, i do i love you.” the fear of losing you was setting in and patrick’s eyes were started getting watery. you sighed, teary eyed and red nosed. “i really wish you didn’t sound like you were trying to convince yourself of that.” patrick looked at you with wet eyes. “baby.” you pulled your hands out of his and walked out of the room.

(why i’m sad like i didn’t just write this.)

[froggiewrites]

Unknown / Nth

Pairing: Shanks x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You don't know if Shanks will still be here tomorrow morning. You don't know if you should be doing this at all. But you can't help but indulge yourself tonight, if only to create another memory you'll yearn for later. Warnings: Smut, Angst (With A Happy Ending), Exes to Lovers/Second Chances, A LOT of Yearning Word Count: 4.4k

You thought you were dreaming, the first moment you saw him in the bar, head thrown back with laughter, a little sake running down his chin and catching the light. You were still convinced as you approached, vision blurred with unshed tears. It was only once he turned around, smile wide and ready, obviously aware of you from the moment you stepped in the room, and said your name that you knew that this was truly and definitively real.

You don’t know whether or not it’s a good thing, but your heart sings anyway.

“Long time no see!” His grin doesn’t waver a moment, but you can still see the slight tension in his shoulders, the unease lurking in his eyes. He doesn’t know what to say to you, not after all this time. You used to know him like the back of your hand, but the man in front of you is practically a stranger. You imagine he feels much the same about you.

“Yeah, it’s been a while.” You can’t smile as brightly as he does, no matter how excited part of you is to see him again. You’re weighed down by years of grief, of longing, and you’ve never been a good liar. “A lot’s changed.” You glance down at where his arm used to be, the hand that had once held you so tenderly.

He laughs. “Yeah, I guess it has. But not too much.” You don’t know what he’s implying with that, but there’s a weight to the words, a sort of finality to them. “You should sit down. We have a lot to catch up on.”

“I shouldn’t,” she says, already in the chair he gestured to.

He laughs. It’s such a beautiful, familiar sound, something unchanged by the years between the man she used to know and the man who is. “I’ve always been great at convincing you to do the things you shouldn’t, haven’t I?”

You don’t know whether he realizes the gravity of what he’s said. Sometimes everything about him seems so free, so spontaneous, and others it seems like he knows everything that has, can, and will happen, and his hands are the ones making the cogs of the world turn.

But he really had always been so wonderful at convincing you. You had been reluctant to take the next step to lovers. You had told him such, several times, but he had always soothed away your worries with a bubbling laugh that always put you at ease.

I'm afraid of losing you, you had told him.

And he, to his credit, didn't tell you you never could. A calculated risk, he had called it. And I have a good feeling about this one.

You had never been an excellent gambler.

How horrible, to go from friends to lovers to nothing. You didn’t know how to be someone without him. Waking up to an empty bed was one thing, but ordering one drink instead of two, hearing a joke you know he’d love and being unable to share it with him, collecting trinkets just for them to collect dust when you realize you have no one to give them to, it weighs on you. In weaker moments, you can still feel his hands on you, hear his laughter in the wind, see the sparkle of his eyes behind you in the mirror. Haunted by the ghost of all you had and lost.

You never know which to call it: the day you lost him or the day he lost you. It doesn't matter, really, since his warmth left your side all the same, but you can't help but stick on the point anyway. Who took the bigger blow? You had loved him so deeply he had etched himself into your bones down to the marrow, but you would never accuse him of loving you with anything less than his all. Maybe you both lost in the end, a mutually assured destruction that had ended with nothing left of you but scraps.

But you’ve grieved for years, years that are long behind you. In front of you is the man you loved, grinning wildly, leaning in very purposefully to give you a look at his chest and abs under his shirt. He always knew his happy trail drove you wild, and now he does everything he can to ensure you see it. You can’t help but laugh at him. “You aren’t subtle, Shanks.”

“No one’s ever accused me of subtlety. That’s not usually what I’m going for.” His eyes crinkle when he smiles, and you notice lines that weren’t there when you saw him last. You wonder if the joy you brought him helped forge them, or if maybe it was all that came after that made its mark. Is there anything left of you with him?

You move to order a drink for yourself, but before you can speak to the bartender it’s already sat in front of you. Shanks ordered for you before you even approached. “Wow, you sure were confident.”

“Of course I was! How could you ever walk in here and not come and see me?” A slight twitch of his lip, a weakness in his smile, betrays insecurity. He absolutely thought you might have left without a word.

“Maybe I would have gotten nervous and ran. I’ve done that enough in my life.”

“Not to me. You always came to me.” His eyes are soft, filled with an affection that makes you ache.

“Maybe I changed. Maybe I got worse.”

“Not possible. Not you. No matter what the world threw at you, you would never let it break you down.”

“I think you think too much of me.”

“I think maybe I just know you better than you know yourself.” His smile isn’t smug, which is almost worse. He’s being devastatingly genuine, far more than you expected when you sat down. “You never had enough faith in yourself. Has that changed at all?”

You want to lie. God, you want to lie. But staring into his eyes you know you can’t. “No, it hasn’t. It might have gotten worse.”

He sighs softly, and he’s close enough that you can feel the rush of air on your face. “I had a feeling.” He pauses for a moment, before leaning back and taking a swig from his drink. “But tonight isn’t the time to unpack that. We’re two old friends having a drink. We should celebrate!”

It stings more than you expected. “Old friends, huh? That’s what this is?”

“It certainly sounds nicer than calling you the one who got away.”

“I got away?”

“And I never should have let you.” Another sip of his drink. “But really, we should talk about something happier, don’t you think? How’s life been?”

You want to press the issue, but his eyes are slightly pleading, and you think maybe you have more sway over him than you ever expected, an ability to press onto his weak spots hard enough to hurt. You used to think he was unshakable, invincible, but now you wonder if perhaps long ago he had gifted you a knife that could perfectly slip between his ribs if you so chose, if you ever developed the penchant for cruelty.

So you don’t press. You tell him about your life, how things have been since he left. He listens with rapt attention, holding onto your every word. He doesn’t share much about his own life, but you’re too caught up in the intoxication of his attention to care. It feels so wonderful to have those eyes on you again, if only for a while. It loosens your lips, makes you say things you never thought you’d be willing to admit.

"You know, there were times in my life I was convinced you were an angel. A gift from heaven, just for me."

"What convinced you otherwise?"

"I got to know you."

"Ouch!"

"No, no. It's not...you're just so...human. It's a compliment, I promise." It doesn't come out right, as you stumble over your words like you're sixteen again, every part of you slightly too big, too clumsy, too you. You don't know how to tell him that being him is the best thing a person could be. You could never love an angel the way you loved that man.

���I didn’t think you’d have many compliments left for me.”

You don’t know how to disagree with that. You certainly shouldn’t. But there’s a place in your heart carved out in his shape, and you’ve never been able to fill it with anything else. “I have almost nothing but, really.”

He smiles, wearier this time, tired down to the bone. “You’ve always been too good to me.”

You’ve always been too good for me, so what a pair we make. You don’t let the thought leave your lips, not today. But you suspect he might be able to see it in your face. He’s always been able to look you in the eyes and know exactly what you’re thinking. It’s one of his greatest strengths, and one of the things that tore you apart. You were never on equal footing, the wonderful liar and his woefully honest love. 

“So…anybody else you’ve got nothing but compliments for?”

“That was an awful segue.”

“I’m doing my best.”

You can’t help but laugh. “If you’re asking if I’m with someone, no, I’m not.”

“Why not?”

“I thought we were supposed to keep this to happy topics?”

“So it’s a sad reason.”

“It’s a normal reason!” It’s not, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Whatever you say,” he chuckles, moving closer once again. He’s been slowly pulling your stools closer together throughout the night, inching his way into your space. With this final push, he allows himself a moment with his arm around your shoulder, so close to familiar, but not quite. He used to hold you with his dominant arm, the one he lost. You wonder if it feels strange to him, too, to be so close to the past, inches away from what was, but unable to fully bridge that gap. His drink sits on the counter, unattended, abandoned in favor of your warmth. “No matter the reason, I’m glad to hear it.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“I think you know.”

“I think I want to hear you say it.”

“Oh, well how could I ever deny a request from you?” He leans closer, brushing his lips against your ear. “I want you.”

You flush, and suddenly you aren’t a tired pirate, filled with regrets and lost in nostalgia. Instead you’re twenty, and the beautiful boy you’ve been in love with has finally looked at you with all of the longing you thought you were alone in. You’re giddy and terrified and yearning all at once, but you can handle it, because he’s right there to catch you, just like he’s always been. You remember very well what it’s like to love him. You don’t know if you ever stopped. You would tell him, had he not flustered you so thoroughly you can hardly bring yourself to speak.

“I wasn’t sure if I’d still have that effect on you.” He’s grinning, the smugness offset by his obvious boyish glee.

“How could I ever resist?” It comes out barely a whisper, eeks out of your lips before you can stop it.

“Can I do what I do best?”

“What’s that?”

His eyes glance longingly down at your lips as he mutters, “Convince you to do something you shouldn’t.”

Tomorrow, you expect to wake up to cold sheets and an empty bed. Tomorrow you will be left with nothing but a longing for what you could have had, had things been different. Tomorrow you will scream and cry and curse yourself for daring to give yourself a taste of it, knowing this time would be the last. But it is not tomorrow yet, and he looks beautiful in the light, a decade younger and kinder, just like you remember him.

You let him kiss you.

And god, how cruel he was, for kissing you like it mattered. Like he always used to, dragging it out, lips following you even as you pulled away. He always kissed you like it would be your last.

His hand grips your hip tightly, as though he’s terrified you’ll turn to smoke beneath his fingertips, as though the moment he lets you you will slip through his fingers. Your chests press together, your hearts beating loudly, calling to each other through the small amount of space that separates them. A greeting to an old friend.

Your walk to your inn room is frenzied, his hand never leaving you, your lips hardly parting for a moment. You would thank the cover of darkness for maintaining your dignity if you were capable of worrying about anything other than the feeling of his skin beneath your fingers when you slide them beneath his shirt. You hear nothing except for his frantic breath in the small moments you part, the soft sighs that leave him when his hands find another part of your body to refamiliarize himself with.

You barely feel your back hit the bed. It is only when he finally pulls back a moment that you catch your breath and realize where you are. You could still back out. Still allow yourself to go back to the numbness, the grief surrounding you like a blanket, keeping you not comfortable but certainly safe.

Your fingers find the bottom of your shirt, throwing it to the side carelessly. Your fingers struggle with the clasp of your bra for a moment, frantic to get it off, to feel his fingers and mouth on your chest again after years of dreaming of them. You look up to see him shirtless, having fought a panicked battle with fabric of his own. He’s staring at you, mouth agape, his look something resembling wonder. He’s not simply admiring you, or doing something as disconnecting, glorifying, as worship. He’s simply adoring you, taking in the sight of you and tucking it away in his heart, treating you as something to be remembered. Something he will carry with him for the rest of his life if he has the choice.

“You’re just as beautiful as I remember you.” His voice is hardly a whisper, the words feeling almost like a confession of something more.

“So are you,” you murmur, moving slowly to run your fingers across his abdomen. He’s still built sturdily, and you can feel his muscles tense slightly underneath your fingers.

“I’ve dreamed of this. So, so many times.” He comes closer, his next words nearly directly against your lips. “I might have seen you more in my dreams than I ever did in reality. You’ve haunted me.” With that he kisses you again, tenderly, like an apology. There isn’t a heat or urgency like there was before, only affection and longing. You can feel in every movement of his mouth and tongue how he has wanted you, waited for you.

He slides onto the bed, pulling you onto his lap, pressing your bare chests together with his arm wrapped around your waist. His mouth moves to your neck, nipping gently, trying to find a spot he could once find in an instant. It takes him only a moment before he finds your sweet spot, making you moan softly. When you do, he lets out a soft groan. “God, I’ve missed that sound.”

You grind down slightly on his lap, making him let out a soft surprised noise of his own. You can’t help the giggle that comes out of you, girlish and joyous. “And I’ve missed that sound.” You grind down again, electricity shooting up your spine. “And that feeling.”

“Oh yeah? Haven’t felt that a lot since…” He trails off.

“They haven’t been you.” The weight of the words don’t hit you until they’re already out, but they don’t shatter the fragile bubble you two have found yourself in. All they do is make him give you a lovesick grin that threatens to rip your heart from your chest.

“Oh, sweetheart…” Another nip at your neck, and a callused hand sliding up your torso to your chest. “I’d give anything for it to have been me.”

“It’s you now.” It’s always been you.

“So it is. I’ll make sure you never forget tonight.” His mouth moves lower, his tongue and teeth lightly grazing over your nipples, making you grab his shoulders to ground yourself as a shiver works its way up your spine. His mouth is on one breast, his hand on the other, and he takes his sweet time working you up. He’s determined to appreciate you with all of the time he’s been granted, ensure that you know how much he’s savoring this moment. It’s only once you’re panting, hips jerking lightly without permission, that he eases up his attacks and starts working his way to the main event.

He lifts you slightly, just enough to slide your pants and panties off in one go. “Show off,” you mutter, no fire behind it.

“Only for you.” What should be a cheeky grin is too softened by the mood, turning to something sickly sweet. He taps your thigh lightly, an indication to stay elevated, and starts to unbuckle his pants before your hands reach out to stop him.

“Let me.” You wish your voice weren’t so desperate, but you’ve been dreaming of this moment for years, and you want so badly to live it how you’ve always wanted to.

He chuckles. “Of course, dear.”

Your hands make quick work of his belt as it’s flung to the side, but you take your time slowly working off his pants. The tent in his boxers is huge, almost bigger than you remember, but you don’t take long to stare at it. You save that for when you finally slide off his underwear, exposing his cock to your hungry eyes. It’s exactly as you remember, long and veiny and twitching with want. You slowly reach a hand to it, wrapping your fist around it, then the other, pumping slowly and appreciating the weight in your hand. He lets out a soft groan, head falling forward, eyes falling closed, allowing for you to admire his body without fear of embarrassment.

You seize the moment you can, eyes scraping over every inch of him, updating him in your memory, adding every new wrinkle, scar, every part of him that’s new to you. You never thought he could grow more beautiful, more perfect, more him, but somehow he managed. There’s more hair on his chest now, more scars on his legs, more evidence of the hard life you knew he led as an emperor. You’re determined to memorize every inch, so now at least when you dream of him it will be him as he is instead of as he was.

He makes a strangled noise when you lean down to take him in your mouth, to see if his taste has changed as well. You’re pleased to know it hasn’t, as you slowly move up and down his shaft as your hands continue to work him. The weight of him in your mouth is almost comforting in its familiarity, something between you two that has remained wholly and truly unchanged. His moans grow deeper when one of your hands moves to his balls and his hips lurch forward slightly. You remove your mouth just to take one final long lick up his cock, one that once again causes him to shiver and groan.

He makes a quiet noise somewhere between disappointment and relief when you fully remove your hands and mouth from him and begin to straddle him again. “I really didn’t want to finish before the main event. I don’t have the stamina I used to.”

You laugh at him. “You liar. One, you’re not even forty, you shouldn’t act like an old man. Second, you’ve only gotten stronger since then. No way in hell have you lost any endurance.”

“Me, lie to you?” He places a hand on his chest in mock offense. “Never!”

“So you admit you’re weaker than you used to be? An unpracticed lover?”

“Well…maybe I was lying this one time.” He leans forward to kiss you again, a quick peck at the corner of your mouth. He reaches down to align himself with your entrance before he begins to thrust in slowly and carefully. His hand moves to your hip, resting there as you both quietly moan at the feeling of you stretching him out.

He leans your foreheads together when he finally bottoms out, both of you panting quietly and getting used to the feeling. It’s blissful, to finally be filled so perfectly after thinking about it for so very long. You fit together perfectly, two puzzle pieces made for each other.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

“Please,” you mewl.

“Of course.” With that he easily grips your hip to help you ride him, rutting up into you as you come down. The sound of skin slapping makes you feel light headed, leaning your head forward to rest in Shanks’ neck. The room feels burning hot, but despite the heat radiating off of his skin, you need to feel every inch of him. You feel as though you’ll float away if you don’t ground yourself here, with him, perfectly intertwined in a way you could never be with anybody else.

“I’ve missed this,” he gasps out as he hits particularly deep, making you cry out. “You feel so wonderful, sweetheart. So perfect.”

You try to respond, but he hits your sweet spot again, so you can only let out a choked cry against his neck. He presses his nose into your hair, and you can feel him smile against you. “That’s right, just like that. Let me hear it.”

And so you do. You don’t hold back a single sound, crying out for him louder and louder until you’re sure the entire inn can hear. You can’t bring yourself to care. You can feel the heat rising, the pulsing spreading through you, and you don’t give a damn about anything other than the man beneath and inside of you.

“So close, almost there.” Another thrust, another cry, and you are teetering on the edge, ready to let yourself fall.

“Let it out, sweetheart. Cum with me.” You tighten around him as you feel your release fly through you and Shanks’ pulse inside of you. He continues to thrust through your orgasm, ensuring you take every last drop of him as deep inside as you can. When you come back to yourself, he’s running his fingers lightly through your hair, pressing loving kisses to the top of your head. “That was perfect.”

You can’t help your smile. You nuzzle against his neck, and his hand drops from your head to your back, pulling you closer. You both lay for what feels like hours, Shanks soft inside of you, as both of you refuse to move and shatter the moment.

Eventually, Shanks pulls out, cum slowly starting to leak out of you, as he gently shifts you both so he’s laying on his back with you on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, steady like a drum, pounding in his chest. You’d missed that sound.

You don’t remember falling asleep. You only remember waking up still feeling warm and safe, and the quiet confusion that comes with it. You were sure he would be back on his ship by now, halfway to a new island, a new adventure, and someone else to share his bed with. Someone with less baggage, or at least some that can be left by the door. Instead he��s here, in this bed, staring down at you with a tenderness that could bring you to tears if you let it.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” He brushes your hair lightly from his face.

“Does that make you Prince Charming?”

He laughs. “God no. I’m the handsome and roguish pirate that’s here to steal his princess away.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. “Is that what you’re going to do?”

“Hm?”

“Steal me away? Is that your plan?” You try to keep the hope out of your voice.

"We're leaving tomorrow. You could..." He trails off, an uncharacteristic hesitation. You never used to do this to him, make him lose his sure footing. You don't know how to feel about changing from home to unsteady ground, somewhere he has to tread carefully lest he fall right through. He doesn't finish his question, doesn't get brave enough to risk it. Instead he looks at you with wide, pleading eyes that beg for a return to something you can't even fully remember the feeling of.

I can't, you want to say.

"I don't know," your mouth betrays, vulnerability seeping through. He's always been good at that, striping someone down to their center, exposing the softness they desperately try to hide.

"I don't know either," he mutters. "But I'd... I'd like it if you did. I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

“You don’t have to miss me anymore. Not if you don’t want to.” His hand is gentle as it caresses your cheek. You close your eyes and lean in, soaking up the feeling. You want to. You want to so badly you could scream. But there’s a terror inside of you, a part of you where the wound he left never closed. You don’t know if you can risk tearing the rest of it open again. You don’t know if you’ll survive it.

His voice goes soft again, saying the one word that brings down your defenses instantly. “Please. Please come with me. I can’t lose you again.”

You know he could still hurt you. Could still rip you open in an instant if you let him, expose your soft insides and destroy every part of you you managed to keep safe the first time. You know this intimately. But somehow it doesn’t sway you as much as his quiet desperation, his admittance that perhaps you could do the very same to him, and he would let you.

“You don’t have to.”

“You mean…”

“I’ll go with you.”

His smile rivals the sun. “You won’t regret it.”

You might. But you can’t quite bring yourself to care.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

[witches-dream]

Imagine you have a son, and he's growing very disciplined, which is good, but he's very introverted, not really in a shut-in kinda way, he just seems very unapproachable to people, and he is, because he's just so serious all the time. Like you look at him and, yeah, he's gonna be great warrior, but you also wish that he could. Socialize a little?

So your son grows up and leaves to fulfill some kinda grand goal and you're like "ok, son", still kinda worried about him, but he's not your baby anymore, he can do what he wants. So he leaves and after a few days you hear this earth-shattering lightning strike, no storm before or after or anything, everybody is wondering what happened and if you'll all die soon. Nothing happens past that, actually, it feels strangely peaceful. So after a few days your son comes back and he doesn't look any different, but he has definitely changed in like a week or two that he was gone. So he says "father, I have defeated the black and white dragons". You're kinda shocked, but that explains the lightning strike and how everything went quiet after it, and your son is not one to lie, so you you say "oh, for real? neat". "They are not going to bother anyone anymore." Your son says in a solemn tone. Later, everyone celebrates but he doesn't come. You knock into his room, and, even through a closed door, you can feel some sort of power, warmth radiating from it. He opens the door and his sword looks... Different. First of all, it's much bigger. It has a completely different shape. And there's this... Purple gem on its handle and it's glowing brightly. Nobody in this village could've forged such an otherworldly masterpiece. So you ask "got a new sword, son?" He says "Yeah. It's a Soul Jam, actually." "A Soul Jam? Never heard of it." "I will tell you later."

He reluctantly agrees to join the celebration, but after a few weeks he leaves the village. He starts building a citadel, and walling off the coast of the Licorice Sea. People are already calling him Your Majesty, though he's slow on accepting that title. Many decades pass and you're so old you can't get out of the house on your own anymore. Your son visits and he looks the exact same as when he left. He takes care of you, with the same cold face he's always had, though his hands are warm and him just being there warms your heart. You strain your old and tired vocal cords to utter "I'm proud of you, son." He's silent, but he nods, and his long hair obscures his face, but you can imagine he's happy to hear that.

It's after you die that he accepts the throne, and the title of King that was decided by the people whose respect for him towered the mountains. And, as it turns out, your son is immortal now. And, through the years, through the decades and centuries and even millennia, he takes the utmost care of all his subordinates, he remembers every face of his every warrior and he etches out their names and immortalizes them and prays to them each day.

Your son does many great things, many heroic deeds. He defends the kingdom he founded with a resolution of a true warrior. Your son made friends. There's only four of them, they are heroes of their own lands just like him, so they're busy most of the time, but they go on adventures and they have fun once a couple of centuries. Your son also makes many mistakes, says things he deeply regrets. He has a son, and, even being thousands of years old, he still thinks of you and wishes he could be even half as great a father as you were.

Maybe sometimes your son wishes you were around to lend a word of advice, or to say "I'm proud of you" one more time. Other times, he's ashamed of a thought that you might be out there somewhere, watching him from the heavens and shaking your head in disapproval. You have no way of telling him you love him either way, with all his virtues and all his vices alike. What matters is that, in the end, your son overcomes all adversities and becomes a better person. He was given a unique chance in life: to have infinite time to learn, and he uses all that time to become a better person.

You have no regrets. You can rest peacefully, knowing you have raised a hero.

[lovebittenbyevans]

Fuel In The Fire | Ch.2

Summary: You had a on and off relationship with Geto Suguru while being in college again. You juggled seeing him when you can until Gojo Satoru came into your life. Things get complicated when you tried to keep the relationship with Geto going and tried to keep a distance from being around Gojo. You began to wonder if you can actually see a real future with Geto or is it too late to moved forward into a new direction

Pairing: F1driver! Gojo Satoru x collegestudent! Female Reader x F1driver! Geto Suguru

Warnings: cursed words, slight flashback, slight angst

Previous: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

There it was….

Formula One Driver Gojo Satoru getting close with Geto Suguru girlfriend Y/N

It was out for everybody around the world to see it. There was nothing nobody could do. It was out to the whole world.

The footage shows Gojo looking almost like he wants to kiss you. You just stood there staring at him while you let him be that close to you. There was no turning back now.

“So, what’s going to happen between you and Geto?” Miwa asks, taking a seat across from you.

You raised your cup of coffee to your lips and took a sip. “I mean I can totally see you two being endgame for real.” Miwa continues to talk.

You let out a sigh as you place your cup on the table. “I don’t know. Geto and I have always been complicated together.” You were telling her truth.

“And what about Satoru?” She asks.

Letting out a breath, you thought about how to respond to her question. You didn’t want to say the wrong thing either.

You shrug. “There’s not much to say.”

Miwa raised her eyebrows as she gulped the rest of her drink. You were not in the mood to talk about your emotions and feelings.

“Uh huh.” She rose up from her chair and grabbed her backpack off the floor. “Let’s go, professor said we have guests coming to our class.”

You got up from your chair while holding your backpack. You walked out of the coffee shop cafe headed directly to campus. You step inside the school and go straight to your class.

“Please don’t bore us today.” Miwa grumbles, entering the classroom.

You entered the classroom and saw your professor Grant with a few Formula One drivers. You immediately recognized who they were.

Fuck!

Choso, Toji, Geto and Nanami were all here. You wanted to say something but decided not to. You were hoping your day went smoothly but you had a feeling what kind of day it would be.

You were going to take a seat next to Miwa when someone called out to you. “Y/N!” You gently turned around to see Geto standing there with the boys.

“H–Hey.” You stutter a little.

Stop being nervous, y/n

You walked over to them and hugged everyone except Geto, who gave you a kiss. “Let’s talk after class.” He whispered in your ear.

You stepped back as Choso spoke to you. “How are you doing, Y/N?” He was always so sweet to you even though you had to get used to him having his pierced eyebrow and tattoos on his neck.

“I’m good, can’t complain.” You said with a smile.

Toji and Nanami's gaze were fixed on you. You already knew the kind of looks they were both giving you.

Fuck my life! You wanted to scream those words so loud.

“Five minutes until we begin class.” Professor Grant announces.

You clear your throat. “I better go find my–” Toji cuts you off, he gives you another look. “Bring your ass over here, Y/N.”

Toji sometimes can be tough on you but you know he means well and he is looking out for the both of you.

You moved one step closer to him. “I have to take a seat, Toji.”

His dark eyes locked on yours. “When are you going to stop leading him on?”

You honestly shouldn’t be talking about this in class right now. This was not the time and place for it.

“Um, how is that any of your business?” You mock him.

Sometimes you wish Toji would be less protective and more polite in a way. He was always straight to the point.

“Y/N, I’m just looking out for the both of you but we both know whatever between you two has been going on for a while now.” He says.

Nanami joins the conversation. “He got a point there.”

You looked at Nanami as you heard Choso trying not to chuckle behind you. “Look, Geto has nothing to worry about.”

“Keep lying, buttercup.” Choso muttered.

You scoff and walk away, walking to your seat next to Miwa. You start to get annoyed that they're here. You sat down and took your notebook and black pen out of your backpack.

“What was that about?” Maki turned around in her seat in front of you.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, hello to you too”

Miwa chuckled softly. “All of them look so glad to see you.” You roll your eyes and feel annoyed.

As the class finally began, Professor Grant introduced the race car drivers who would be taking over the class for the day. You mostly listened to what they were saying.

“How do you deal with the media following you every race?” One of the students raised their hand while paying attention to them.

This time it was Geto who answered. “We mostly ignored them while focusing on what’s not going on around us.”

“And how do you deal with dating a college student in your late thirties and she is in her early thirties?” Another student asked a question.

And the shit begins

You immediately feel humiliated, but not ashamed. You drop deeper into your seat, resting your palm on your brow to cover your expression.

“Careful kid.” Toji warned him.

Choso pushed off the professor's desk. “We didn’t come here for you guys to ask personal questions that have nothing to do with you.”

Nanami interrupted. “We are here for you guys to learn so act like it.” His voice was serious.

You glance at them and mouth. “Thank you.” The three of them just nodded as they continued on with talking to the class.

“You don’t feel how many miles you go in a race car. You get used to it.” Geto said.

You wrote some stuff in your notebook before the professor dismissed class. You rose up from your seat placing your notebook and pen in your backpack.

“I must say maybe Toji feels the most about you.” Maki slung her backpack over her shoulder.

You shake your head. “In his dreams. No, he’s just protective, that's all. So are the others.”

Maki slung her backpack over her shoulder. “We will wait for you out there.” She walked out the classroom with Miwa behind her.

You close your backpack holding it with your hand going straight to the professor's desk. You gave a hug to each one of them before pulling away.

“Thank you guys again.” You tell them.

Nanami shrugs. “Don’t mention it.”

Choso fixes his hat on his head. “Geto, we will be outside waiting for you.” He walks off heading out the door.

Toji gave you a glare look as he walked out with Choso and Nanami. You stood there standing in front of Geto. You didn’t rush to speak first.

“Am I a joke to you? Why can’t you take me seriously?”

His question caught you off guard.

You slung your backpack over your shoulder. “No, I've been with you this whole time G.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t bullshit me, y/n. I see the way you were around him in that video.”

You huffs. “Nothing happened unlike you and her.” He knows exactly who you are talking about.

You see the way she looks at him every time you are with him. A part of you never saw yourself being in this type of situation.

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “She doesn’t mean shit to me.” He took a step toward you. “I always wanted to be with you. You know that.”

Your gaze was on him. “Gojo, doesn’t mean nothing to me.”

He sighs, pressing his lips against your forehead. “Ok.” You can tell he didn’t believe you but he decided to brush it off.

You close your eyes for a moment then open your eyes. “Ok.” You turned around and walked out of the classroom door.

Choso, Nanami and Toji nodded at you before they walked away with Geto right by their side. Choso looked over his shoulder at you with those dark brown eyes. “Make good choices, buttercup!” He yelled out.

You suck your teeth and lean against the wall. “Kill me now.” You mutter to yourself. You didn't notice the tear rolling down your cheek.

You should have listened to yourself before you got into these situations. You should have let Geto go his own way but for some reason you can’t see him out of your life.

Being around Gojo that day brought back some memories you had avoided thinking about all this time. Even the words he used to say to you when you were in your mid twenties.

“I can never imagine my life without you. No matter where we go, what happens between us I will always love you.” Gojo said seriously.

You look at him not saying a word.

“I will always be here for you.” He says.

From that moment, you wanted to kiss him but that’s when Geto called you that day. Those words never went away no matter how hard you try.

You wipe your tears away with your hand when your two best friends approach you. “Y/N, are you ok?” Miwa had a concerned expression on her face.

“What’s wrong?” Maki asked.

You had to pull yourself together. Almost every student was staring at you and whispering to each other.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” You sniffle, taking your phone out of your jeans pocket.

A bunch of formula one fanpages were following you on instagram as you looked at the notification on your screen. You received a few text messages from interviewers who wanted to talk to you about Geto and Gojo.

You ignored the notification and checked your text messages.

Geto: Race this weekend, let me know if you can make it

Geto: I just want to make sure we are good babe

Geto: I love you and I’m not losing you ❤️

Those words made your heart shattered to pieces. You heard him say those three words a few times to you even though you didn’t pay it no mind.

“Oh, he loves you!” Maki raised her voice.

You glare at her and put your phone back into your pocket. “Keep your voice down, Ma!” You quickly walk with them not letting nobody hear your conversation.

“He got it bad for you.” Miwa smirks.

You headed straight to your next class while laughing with them both. You only wish your life was normal again but you figured it was about to get complicated.

[bluetoes-andstuff]

Ape and Flow

Caesar x Human!Reader

Summary: You’re moody. Caesar’s not sure what to do to fix it.

Word Count: 5k

Rating: General

Warning: PMS stuff

***You guys voted, so here ya go. Honestly wasn’t expecting to have to do it from Caesars perspective, but I accepted the challenge, trying not to make the reader seem too insane lol. This one got away from me so Enjoy***

The sun peeked through the dense fog, reflecting a soft hue of the early morning light across the forest floor. Caesar stood at the edge of his home, scanning the horizon. The morning was serene, the air crisp and filled with the sounds of nature waking up. It was his favorite time of day; a moment of serenity before the day's responsibilities swept him up with unending activity.

His thoughts drifted to you, as they usually do in these quiet moments. Things between the two of you were slowly beginning to develop. Caesar has been more than forward with his intentions, and he feels like you were finally beginning to reciprocate his feelings. Though sometimes he wonders if you realize how serious he is with his intent on courtship. The treasures he leaves outside your home seem to bring no more satisfaction or attachment than the sentiments Rocket or Tinker would bestow on you through the day. And his efforts to provide you with companionship and comfort seem no more appreciated than Maurice’s same platonic attempts.

Of course, with his duties to the colony he can’t exactly dedicate every moment of his day to spending with you, but he most definitely makes an effort to spend every spare moment he can at your side, claiming you in the eyes of the other apes, that you were his for the taking. You spend most of your time with the other females or with Maurice and the young ones, but most every male knew who you belonged to even if you yourself were not quite aware yet.

That in itself brought Caesar enough satisfaction and contentment, knowing no one else had their eyes on you. Not that they would, considering most every ape thought it absurd his attraction to you.

And despite both of your differing responsibilities, Caesar found himself drawn to your side more and more each passing day. He kept finding excuses to accompany you on your scavenging adventures, and your gardening chores when he had nothing else pressing to do.

So because of your growing closeness and physical proximity… the past few days, Caesar had noticed a slight change in your interactions. The usual exuberance and chattering has been replaced with a more withdrawn moodiness. Your usual bright demeanor clouded by something he couldn’t quite identify. You laughed less, your smiles were more fleeting, and there was a tension in your movements that hadn’t been there before. He had tried to ask you about it, but you brushed off his concerns with a forced smile and a quick change of subject almost every time he branched the subject.

He considers himself to be quite an observant and considerate ape… so he knows this change in attitude is not something of his own thinking. It is a legitimate concern that keeps coming back to mind.

This only proves true later in the morning where the change becomes more pronounced. As Caesar prepares to join the hunting party, he glanced over at you sitting by the fire, staring into the flames with an abject frown. Your shoulders hunched and a tightness around your eyes screaming discomfort.

He hoots gently as he approaches on all fours, slowly coming into your line of sight as he signs slowly “Are you alright?”

You looked at him, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment before looking away. “I’m fine, Caesar. Just tired.”

He frowned, not convinced. “Something is bothering you,” he insists.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “It’s really nothing. Just… one of those days.”

Caesar nods slowly, though he wasn’t quite satisfied with that answer. Even though he wasn’t as close to you as he wished he was, he still had a good understanding of who you were and how you acted day to day, and you were most definitely not yourself. He knew there was more to it, but he also knew better than to push you when you weren't ready to talk.

“If you're sure….” He speaks slowly, reaching out to gently grasp one of your hands in his.

You give him a small, grateful smile. “I’m sure. Don’t worry about me.”

Both Koba and Spear call out for his attention and it forces him to withdraw from you with one last small exchange. He reaches forward for you to caress his arm and face as you usually do upon his departure, but you simply grab onto his fingers and force a smile before letting go with a simple squeeze. It may seem insignificant to anyone else there to witness it, but it was a drastic change in your usual exchange and Caesar can’t help but feel the craving for your usual affection and sentiment.

He slowly withdrew to join the hunting party, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. There had to be! He replayed your recent interactions in his mind, trying to piece together the puzzle. Your mood had been slowly shifting, and today it seemed to have reached a tipping point. He resolved to keep a closer eye on you, hoping to understand what was troubling you and how he could help, even if he had to force it out.

He got drawn into his usual duties, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you at every spare moment. His distractions through the morning almost cost the colony a kill or two, so he decided with a finality that he would seek you out as soon as he returned to end this contemplation…

Caesar returns to the camp after a successful hunt, carrying a bundle of fresh game on the back of his horse. He spotted you near the edge of the colony, outside the home you’ve been residing in the past few months. You sat on a wide stump, slumped forward, attempting to start a fire while muttering under your breath. Your movements were jerky and uncoordinated, your entire body clinging to a weird stiffness he had never seen you with before.

“Need help?” Caesar called slowly. He jumps down from his horse, handing it off to another ape to bring to the stables.

You look up when you hear him, your expression a mix of frustration and exhaustion. “No, I’ve got it,” you snap, striking the flint with a little more force than necessary.

Caesar raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. Your stubbornness was always a subject of amusement for him. “The fire… might disagree.”

You glare at him, but there was a flicker of a smile creeping along your face. “Very funny, Caesar. Maybe you should stick to hunting.”

He chuckled, kneeling beside you, reverting back to sign. “And maybe you should let me help before you set the whole colony on fire.”

You sigh, handing him the flint. “Fine. But if you can’t get it started, I’m gonna laugh.”

Caesar took the flint, his fingers brushing yours briefly. He struck it a few times with practiced hands, and soon a small flame flickered to life. He glanced at you, a triumphant smile on his face. “See? No forest fires today.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help but chuckle. “Whatever Caesar.”

Caesar sat himself beside you, enjoying the companionable silence as the two of you sat around the fire. Caesar noticed the tension in your shoulders begin to worsen as you stared silently into the flames. He hoped that whatever was bothering you would pass soon, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper was at play. For now, he decided to focus on the moment, enjoying the rare chance to have a moment of shared serenity with you.

The sun was high in the sky when you and Caesar made your way back to the center of the colony. The morning’s tension still lingered between you even after your quiet moments together, but Caesar tried to push it aside as you two approached the town center. The colony was alive with activity—apes working together to construct new shelters, children playing, and the sounds of laughter and conversation filling the air.

Caesar spotted Maurice near the center of the camp, surrounded by a group of young apes who were eagerly listening to one of his stories. You usually enjoyed these moments, often joining Maurice and the young ones, cuddling them in your lap and stroking their soft baby fur, but today you did not show any interest in joining. Some of the young apes watch as the two of you pass by, eyes fixated on you in anticipation of you joining them, but you never look their way.

Caesar had plans to bring you to the communal fire where you could linger in your reflections while still being surrounded by the camaraderie of others so you might not be left so lonely, but as soon as you came close, you were immediately approached by Leaf. “Can you help me with the herbs? I need to sort them for tonight’s meal.”

You nod, forcing a smile. “Sure, Leaf. I'll help you out.”

Caesar watched as you walked away with Leaf, your shoulders still tense even in the presence of one of your good friends. He sighed, turning his attention to the hunting party dispersed around the fire. Koba and Rocket sat together, discussing the success of the morning’s hunt, the distribution of the game, and plans for the next outing as they usually did. More often than not he made an effort to involve himself in those discussions, but lately, you had taken priority.

He took a seat amongst the others to join their discussions, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you just as it had prior that day. Koba of course noticed his distracted state, and more than once bumped him in the shoulder with a disapproving look. Although he does not verbally discuss his disapproval for his relationship with you, he makes it very clear in other ways.

It took far longer than usual. At least it felt like it did, but after finishing his discussions with the hunting party, Caesar decided to check on you. He found you and Leaf near the storage area, sorting through bundles of herbs. Your movements were quick and precise, but there was an edge to your actions that hadn’t been there that spoke volumes to anyone paying attention.

Caesar hooted gently as he approached, gaining both ladies’ attention. He places a careful hand on the small of your back as he signs, pressing his body close to yours. “How’s it going?” Caesar asked..

Leaf looked towards you both with a smile. “We’re almost done. Thanks to your help, of course.” She looks towards you with the final statement but you weren’t even looking at her to see her signs.

Leaf frowns then directs her gaze to Caesar. “What happened? She has been off all day.”

Caesar shares a look with her. “I know.” The emphasis and dramatization of his sign spoke enough for him… this has been an ongoing battle with you for days now. It just seems to finally becoming more obvious to the others.

You still didn’t look up, your focus entirely on the herbs.

Caesar frowned, the hand he had rested on your back inching to grasp your hip, encircling you in his arm. “Can we… talk?”

You finally looked up, your eyes flashing with irritation, like just his presence beside you was infuriating. You push his hand away roughly, taking a step to the side to face him head on with your glare. “What is it, Caesar? I’m busy.”

The tone shocks him. You had never spoken to him in that way… In fact, no one has ever spoken to him like that. Leaf seems to share in his shock, staring between the two of them like she was expecting Caesar to throw you to the ground in some dominant display.

He would never, of course, simply because you had no concept of what your actions or tone were implying. There was no need to assert his dominance to you when he knew you were not seeking to challenge him.

He takes a deep breath and tries to keep his tone calm. Because even though his mind reasons that you do not mean to imply what you are, the instinct in him is sparking the flame of his anger.. “I’m concerned… You’ve seemed… off lately.”

Your expression softened for a moment, almost apologetic in a way, but then you shook your head and dismissed him with a wave. “I’m fine, really. Just tired.”

Before Caesar could say much more. You place the last of the herbs from your bundle on the table. You spin around to fix him with a forced grin. “I’m going down to the river for some alone time. I’ll see you later.”

And with that, you were gone.

Caesar knew a dismissal when he heard one. No matter how badly he wished to follow you and force you to tell him what was wrong, he did not.

He wasn’t really sure what to do now… for the past few months every free moment he’s had he’s spent with you. So, now, with no further responsibilities today, he had no idea what to do with himself. It was embarrassing how lost he felt with your absence. Before your arrival he was a self-sustainable, confident leader, now here he is resorted to an insecure mess.

He watches you go. He and Leaf exchange one last glance before he huffs and turns around, heading back to the communal fire on all fours. He takes the seat he had just vacated and both Koba and Rocket give him curious looks.

“What’s wrong?” Rocket signs

Caesar sighs, gives one meaningful look towards Rocket then signs your name. Rocket, of all the apes in the colony, had the most experience with females, even over Caesar himself. It was possible the chimp may have some advice.

“What did she do?” Koba questions, his interest peaked.

“It is what I did.” Caesar emphasizes.

“What did you do?” Rocket presses.

Caesar shakes his head, hands firmly clasped together in his lap as he speaks. A far away look in his eyes, “ I do not know.”

Both apes exchange a glance about Caesar's cryptic answer, unsure if they should wait for their king to expound or question him further.

“She does not want me around her,” He signs. “She avoids me, and whenever I try to speak with her she is short and terse. And when I touch her, she pulls away. She is not herself. ”

Koba shakes his head with a scowl. “How disrespectful.” He turns away from Caesar as he signs. “You must correct her.”

“No,” Rocket disagrees, “she is upset. You have no idea what you might have done?” He turns his question into Caesar.

“No,” he insists with a grunt. “I make sure to leave her a treasure every morning, and when she awakes, I bring her her favorite berries for breakfast and a fur to keep her warm. She had even mentioned her human drink, tea, and I have managed to find the best herbs to make her one every evening. I’ve even brought her to the human places to find clothing and human things. And I’ve made sure she never has to worry about being lonesome. I’ve been trying very hard to show her my intention.”

Koba scoffs, but Rocket sits to contemplate. “Maybe…” he begins, “she is smothered.”

Caesar hoots at him in offense. “Smothered?!”

“Some females panic when a male moves too quickly with them.”

Caesar pauses in shock. That was it! That had to be it! He didn’t know why he hadn’t consulted Rocket sooner.

“You are right. Thank you Rocket.” He taps Rocket on the shoulder in thanks, pulling him forward to brush their foreheads together.

“Anytime my friend.”

***

The sun had begun to set, casting long shadows across the camp as the apes gathered for their evening meal around the communal fire. The air was filled with the sounds of chatter and laughter, a sense of camaraderie that usually brought comfort to Caesar. But tonight, his mind was elsewhere. His eyes scoured the crowd for your familiar head of hair, but you’ve yet to return from the river. He’s kept a watchful eye on the entrance to the colony and you’ve been gone all afternoon. You knew his rule about being out after dark, and you’d be cutting it close. If you weren’t back by the time supper was over, he’d go out to find you himself.

You’d be pissed about it… but it was for your own safety.

He ate his fruit rather aggressively— he was well aware— as he stared towards the entrance. In actuality his worry was slowly morphing into irritation. The complete and total disregard for his rules was an insult to his authority, whether you were romantically entangled or not.

And just when Caesar about had enough of waiting, there you were. You shuffle into the colony with a deep frown on your face and your arms wrapped tight around your body. Obviously you were not quite over your mood, but you had more than enough time to yourself and Caesar had some things to discuss with you.

He waits for you to find your seat among a group of females. One of them hands you a bowl of food and you force a smile before slowly beginning to pick at your food. Caesar watches you from a distance for a few moments before he decides to approach, hoping to bring some sort of resolution before the day ends. This had gone on long enough.

He approached you, his presence commanding attention. Before he is able to even utter a word you look up at him with a scowl.

“What now, Caesar? Can’t you see I’m trying to eat?”

The camp fell silent, all eyes turning to the unexpected confrontation. Caesar felt a surge of anger and embarrassment. It was one thing for you to voice your upset in private, but challenging him in front of the entire colony was another matter entirely. And it was completely uncalled for no matter how smothered you felt.

He growls low and deep as he says your name with a snap, his voice low and controlled to match his slowly declining mood. “I think we need to talk. Now.”

You stand up abruptly, your frustration finally boiling over. “Why? So you can tell me how off I’ve been lately? You think I don’t know I’ve been a total bitch?! Even if I didn’t know, you’ve made sure I was well aware, haven’t you?.”

The murmurs around the camp grew louder, the apes exchanging uneasy glances between each other. Caesar’s jaw tightens, his instinct to assert his dominance beginning to kick in. He straightens to his full height, his posture imposing as his nostrils flare dangerously.

His voice carries a warning as he says your name once more. “This is not the time or place.”

But you were beyond reasoning at this point, your anger had boiled over and there was not much anyone could do about it. “No, Caesar! I’m done with this! I’ve got some shit going on you don’t know about. So, I don’t need you breathing down my neck at every waking second.”

The camp was deathly silent now, every ape watching the scene unfold. Caesar’s anger flared, his authority being challenged in a way that couldn’t be ignored. He took a step forward, his eyes blazing with his pent up fury. This was not a feeling he enjoyed having directed towards you, and if you were anyone else you’d be pinned to the ground by now with an eye full of his fangs.

He growls your name once more, like it was a final warning, rumbling with suppressed fury. “Enough.”

The dominance in his stance was unmistakable, a clear signal to everyone present. And you seem to finally come to realize the gravity of your actions. You had crossed a line, and the consequences would be immediate. Sometimes you forget Caesar was not human like you, despite his human qualities, he was an animal driven by instinct. A very powerful, very dominant alpha male.

You take a step back, your anger quickly giving way to fear and regret. “Caesar, I—”

He doesn’t move, his gaze locked on yours, a silent command for submission. You’ve never seen him look so intense before, and you had never ever expected to see that look directed towards you. Not from your sweet, attentive Caesar.

The other apes watched, their respect for Caesar’s authority palpable. It was clear who was in the wrong in this altercation, there was no question.

Your shoulders slump, your defiance crumbling. You held out your hand, palm up, a final plea of submission. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. Your shame sent a rippling shiver through your body, the anticipation of his potential rejection almost unbearable.

Caesar’s expression softened slightly, but he had to remain firm. He reached out, swiping your hand gently. Your body racks with an obvious sigh of relief before you turn and flee, your face flushed with shame and tears.

The camp remains silent in your absence, the tension thick in the air. Caesar takes a deep breath, his anger slowly ebbing away. He knew that this confrontation had been necessary, but it pained him to see you in so much distress with the inability to comfort you, knowing he was the cause.

As the evening continued, the apes resumed their activities, though the atmosphere was noticeably subdued. Caesar retreated to a quiet spot, a secluded area near the edge of the forest. He needed a moment to himself, away from the prying eyes and the weight of leadership. Sitting on a fallen log, he let his thoughts drift back to the beginning of his relationship with you.

He remembered the first time you met, the cautious curiosity in your eyes, and the way you had slowly opened up to him. Your bond had grown quickly, fueled by shared human experiences and mutual respect. He recalled the laughter you two shared during your explorations of the forest and into the human city, the quiet moments by the river, and the way your presence had brought a new kind of warmth to his life.

Caesar smiled as he thought about how quickly he had fallen and how desperate he was to express that to you when he first came to the realization. It took you some time to take notice of the little things he did to show his care for you. The fresh berries he’d bring by each morning, knowing they were your favorite. The abundant number of furs he left outside your home every time they came available to him. He knew how susceptible you’d be to the cold in the coming months. Then the times he’d steer away from his usual group of apes to sit with you by the fire and listen to your stories about the human world. The way he would gently brush the hair out of your face when you were deep in thought. He treasured the way you’d blush at him as his fingers brushed against the soft skin of your cheek. Each gesture was a silent promise of his affection and commitment.

But as he reflected on these moments, a nagging doubt began to creep in. Had he done something to cause this rift between you? Had he been too forward as Rocket suggested? He was under the impression that you felt the same as him by the way you gravitated towards him and touched him. Maybe he had misread your actions because what else would justify your sudden anger and animosity.

He thought about the past few days, the subtle changes in your behavior, and the way you became more withdrawn. He had tried to be patient, to give you space, but it seemed the space he gave was not enough. The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became. He had done everything he could to show his love and support, and yet, it felt like you were pushing him away. All he wanted from you was a straight answer.

Caesar clenched his fists, his frustration bubbling to the surface. It wasn’t just about his authority being challenged in front of the colony; it was about the hurt and confusion it brought on. He had always prided himself on being a fair and understanding leader, but this situation with you was testing his patience in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside him. He knew that getting angry wouldn’t solve anything. He needed to find a way to reach you, to understand what was really going on. If you did not want him the way he wanted you… it might devastate him in the moment but he would respect your wishes. For now, all he could do was wait and hope that you would come to him when you were ready.

As the night grew darker, Caesar’s thoughts remained with you. He headed back to the colony to find the camp quiet, the only sounds being the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional call of a nocturnal creature. He gave a nod to Luca and the other guard standing watch then ascended to his home high above the trees. The glow of the fire still burning in his hut lit the path leading to his home and he paused at the entrance to glance out into the dark forest, hoping that when you retreated you did not leave the safety of colony grounds.

He did not have to worry for long though. When he stepped into his home, he took one glance towards his nest to find a mess of furs he did not remember leaving there… as he approached he noticed the soft quivering of the lump hidden beneath them

He rushes to slip into his nest, reaching out a hand towards what he knew for fact had to be you.

The whisper of your name cuts through the silence, his voice laced with shock and concern. “Are you ok?”

The furs go flying, followed by a mess of limbs as you scramble towards him, quite literally attaching yourself to his front like a babe.

“I’m so so sorry, Caesar,” you bawl, your voice muffled against his chest. “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean it.”

Caesar’s heart aches at the sound of your distress, his earlier frustration melting away. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. He tips back slowly, bringing you with him until you’re both lying together in the comfort of his nest as he holds you in his arms “Shh, it’s alright,” he murmurs, stroking your hair gently, holding your head close to his chest as your tears soak through his fur. “All is forgiven.”

He could feel your pain and regret, and it pained him to see you so distressed like this. He wanted to demand an explanation, to understand what had driven you to such a drastic state, but he knew that now was not the time. You needed his support, not his questions— as you had so kindly pointed out earlier that evening.

As your sobs begin to subside, Caesar continues to hold you, his touch gentle and reassuring as his hands skate up and down your back. When you finally seemed more composed, you pulled back slightly, and he got a full look at your tear-streaked face.

His voice rumbles gently with the sound of your name, and you cling to him once more, shoving your face against his warm collar. “What's wrong? Please tell me.”

You take a shaky breath, keeping your face hidden against his neck. “It’s stupid,” You whine.

“Not stupid if it… bothers you.” He speaks as soft as he can muster, and you cling tighter to him in your distress.

“It’s… it’s— I’m on my period.” you pause as if expecting him to question what it is, but before he can inquire you keep going, rapidly trying to justify and explain. “Every month I bleed really bad and I cramp. My stomach feels like it’s being stabbed over and over, and this time it feels so much worse for some reason! And then on top of it all it makes me so irrationally angry and irritated at everyone and everything. Most of the time it’s for no reason, but I-I just can’t help it sometimes. So I’m sorry Caesar! It’s my fault.”

“Your cycle?” Caesar confirms with an inquisitive scrunch to his brows. Female chimps had a cycle as well, but growing up he had heard the jokes about the horrors of the human female's cycle… human media often highlighted the bad side effects. The same ones you had just told him.

You nod, all pitiful like. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

Caesar scoffed Into your hair, then drifted his hand to your abdomen, gently pressing down. “It hurts here?” he asked.

You nod again, nuzzling closer with a quiet whine. “Real bad.”

Caesar purrs, a soothing sound that rumbled deep in his chest. He tucks you in closer, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your belly. “You should’ve told me... I would have held you all day.”

You managed a small, grateful smile, your body relaxing against his. “I wanted to be tough.”

“Why be tough… when I am here… to take care of you?” He reaches over you to grab one of the loose furs, then pulls it closer to drape over the both of you. You two had yet to share a nest for the night, but now was as good a time as any to start.

You close your eyes as you finally allow yourself to relax completely in his arms. “I don’t deserve you ”

He held you close, his heart filled with a renewed sense of commitment. The relief he felt knowing it wasn’t his forwardness to be causing your bad mood was a weight off his shoulders.

You fell asleep in his arms, face still tucked away. He continues his gentle massage on your abdomen. This he could manage… he is more than happy to take care of you.

[aangelinakii]

JUSTICE LEAGUE ROMANCE TROPES.

characters written about in this piece: bruce wayne, clark kent, diana prince, barry allen, oliver queen, dinah lance

note : i LOVED this idea so much i literally like it is literally 5 in the morning i wrote it in an hour i was so hyped !! hopefully it was what you were asking for, thanks for requesting !

BRUCE WAYNE — grumpy x sunshine

okay you guys saw this coming. he's literally batman, and there's a lot of debate about whether or not batman is the real persona,, so NATURALLY i think a grumpy x sunshine thing would go well with him. i did also read somewhere that his sexuality is villains, but who says a villain can't be happy go lucky ???? wait because i literally feel a fic coming up... batman x golden retriever!villain like... ????? but it's like, batman / bruce is known as just this rain cloud, no emotion, but with you he just melts and his heart grows warm, as does his tough exterior. he's used to having a family now, going through failed relationships (whore lol) but meeting you is just different. has he been dating the wrong people all his life ?

CLARK KENT — strangers to lovers

a romance blossoms with clark as a chance encounter. two tired office workers caught in the rain, the bus is late, they agree to flag down a taxi and share one together, but fuck you've forgotten your wallet (just your luck) so clark insists it's okay that he can pay, but you're not leaving that easy, you ask for his business card so you can call him when you're free to pay him back (you say you'll pay him half, but you actually pay him full). when you meet him again, you either ask to meet halfway at a park somewhere, or go up to the daily planet. "just in case a situation like this ever happens again" clark asks for your card too, but instead just calls you one night as you're eating a takeaway in front of your tv to (really shyly) ask you if you're seeing anyone and if you'd like him to take you out sometime :)))

DIANA PRINCE — "who did this to you?"

I JUST SCREAMed at protective!diana LIKE ???? i was going through pinterest looking for ideas to help and i saw this microtrope and i was like yes this is the one. like imagine heavily injured / on the brink of death, laying in a hospital bed or in the infirmary of the jl station, and your lover ( / friend / enemy / ????? ) diana storms in maddd as hell and shés like "who did this to you??? are you okay??? what happened??? more importantly who tf hurt you ????" so you tell her, and she spends some time with you, but as soon as your eyes begin to droop closed, she is Gone. diana isn't one to kill i don't think, she tries to see the good in everybody, but this person hurt you. maybe death isn't what's coming for them, but she'll make sure it counts.

BARRY ALLEN — best friends to lovers

what better way to form a romantic relationship with someone, than through a platonic friendship with them? barry knows you like the back of his hand, you know him like the back of yours. you've watched each other go through relationship after relationship, always wondering why your heart droops at the news of a new person in the mix, slightly altering your dynamic, but pings up again once it finds out the relationship had sizzled out. there was something aching between you, but that was just what friendships were like, right ? so why didn't you feel it with anyone else ? it turned into something more when external people began noticing too, asking if you were already dating,, and it became more obvious that perhaps your friendship could be something else.

OLIVER QUEEN — flirt x oblivious

ollie queen is a crippling flirt. he's used to a mere wink sending the ladies whirling, add an "oh yeah?" to the end of his sentence and he can see the dust of a blush along someone's cheeks. he knows the ins and outs. so why can't he flirt with you ??? WHY WONT YOU BLUSH ??? OR EVEN FLIRT BACK ??? you're oblivious !!!! he will compliment your appearance, the way you fight in battle, the way you spar (and purposely pin you down, but get off with a huff when you chuckle and say he's got you down already, no need to keep you there). he starts spending so much time with you, offering himself up to go on patrol / missions just so he can spend time bugging you. but it starts getting too much, until he realises he can't say a word around you. why is he getting tongue tied ?? he doesn't ?? oh god *gag* he.. likes you ???? it isn't until now, with him being more nervous around you, beginning to actually avoid you, that you start to notice.

DINAH LANCE — rivals to lovers

when i say rivals i don't mean properly pitting against each other, not by any means,, i mean say you're also in the justice league as well, a hero, whatever you like,,,, whenever you're put together on a mission together, it's a competition between who can take out the most bad guys, save the most innocents, who gets there the fastest etc. it's technically friendly bants but there's some competitiveness behind it that isn't exactly fake. you're friends / acquaintances for sure, but what happens when a kiss is on the stakes ??? "person who takes out the most of joker's henchmen gets a kiss from the winner"

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

"Him guilting Ladybug into staying quiet is why Lila is able to maintain her power for 4 more seasons."

I mean, I would blame more the writers for taking way too long to have Adrien realize his advice was bad.

(Post the quote is from)

Reminder that I am never actually blaming the characters, they are not real people. That's why this is explicitly a writing blog. In the context of the writing, yes, the pacing of everything Lila was terrible and is the real source of the issues. That doesn't change the fact that Adrien is the main narrative tool used to keep Marinette in line, thus me "blaming" him.

As you said, Adrien looks bad here not because he didn't understand how to handle the situation and gave bad advice, but because it takes him so long to realize that his advice was bad and apologize.

During Lila's first appearance, we see Adrien chastises Ladybug for being too mean to Lila, never once acknowledging that it was valid for Ladybug to be upset (S1E26). She is painted as fully in the wrong even though Lila was actively manipulating him and Ladybug arguably protected him here:

Adrien: Wait! Lila! (Lila runs away) Hey, what was that all about? Uh, I mean, weren't you kinda harsh with her? Ladybug: I...I don't put up with lies, especially when they're about me. (yo-yos away)

During Lila's second appearance (or, at least her second appearance where she actually interacts with the cast) he further drives that message home by telling Marinette to let Lila lie to people because he's more worried about hurting Lila's feelings than he is about removing Lila's power (S3E01):

Adrien: Are you going to tell everyone? Marinette: 'Course I am. Lila is— Adrien: (interrupting) A liar. Yes, I know. But do you really think exposing her will make things better? If you humiliate her, she'll just be hurt more. Making a bad guy suffer has never turned them into a good guy. Lila: Ladybug and I are like two peas in a pod. Marinette: So we just stand by and let her lie? Adrien: As long as you and I both know the truth, does it really matter? Marinette: You're right, maybe it's not such a big deal.

We'll circle back to how terrible this advice was in a second. First lets finish off going through the sequence of events.

And finally, at the tail end of season five, Adrien openly acknowledges that he's been giving terrible advice (S5E20):

Adrien: I'm sorry, Marinette. I was wrong. I shouldn't have told you to not act against Lila. If you give the slightest opportunity to people like her, they'll grasp at it and cause disasters in no time. And now, you're the one who looks like a bad person. Marinette: (reaches out to hold his hand beside her) You thought you were doing the right thing. Just like with Chloe. That's another reason why I love you, Adrien. You always want to see the good in other people. But sometimes, the good we think we see in some people is just a reflection of our own, and we end up being fooled by our own kindness. (They squeeze each other's hands.) But we'll find a way to expose Lila eventually.

If we look at these three moments in a vacuum, this is honestly a good character arc for a character like Adrien. He's a peace keeper, which is a wonderful match to Marinette's blind justice approach. It's good that Adrien is there to balance her out! It's also good for him to learn that his approach doesn't always work and that you can't always keep the peace.

The problem is that Adrien didn't actually get a functional character arc where he learned those lessons. The episodes are so drawn out that it doesn't feel like we watch him grow and learn. His apology is almost three full seasons after his second bit of bad advice, leaving us to wonder when he changed his mind because Lila does a lot of awful things during those three seasons. What moment made him realize that he was in the wrong here? We don't know, so this feels less like growth and more like the writers throwing in a scene to shut up fans who were still complaining about Adrien's terrible advice even though it had been four real world years since he actually gave it.

There's also the issue that Adrien tells Marinette, "making a bad guy suffer has never turned them into a good guy." This line implies that Adrien's goal is to help Lila change. The problem is that we never see him do that. He doesn't try to help Lila. The most we get is him making a deal with Lila to protect Marinette, but that's not him helping Lila change. He doesn't approach that conversation as if he's trying to help Lila see that what she did was wrong. He approaches it as if he knows that she won't change. It's less trying to make Lila a better person and more a deal with the devil:

Adrien: (sits next to Lila) I warned you once already, Lila, but you didn't listen. You hurt my friend Marinette, and that's not okay. Lila: Me? Hurting Marinette? But she's the one who- Adrien: I don't know how to prove you lied, Lila, because you're good at it. So you'll just have to come up with another lie, just as convincing. Only this time it's gonna prove Marinette's innocent. Lila: Why would I do that, Adrien? Adrien: Because we're friends, aren't we?

Minor Chloe rant incoming:

This is yet another situation where it would be so much better for the show if Adrien had actually done something to help Chloe change and succeeded. If he did that, thought it was a good path for everyone, and then tried to do the same thing for Lila, then this could have been a really great way to set him up for dealing with his dad. To teach him that you can only help people who want to be better without having everyone he tries to help stay "evil" as that's pretty depressing. As-is, we've literally seen him say that Chloe will never change so why does he believe that Lila can change? They're not portraying him as an optimist, they're portraying him as delusional. Terrible writing. Zero stars.

Rant over.

By the way, the above quote was the 24th episode of season three, roughly two seasons before Adrien's apology to Marinette. If he's viewing Lila as the devil here, then this should be where we get that apology. Or Adrien should approach this as him trying to make Lila better and Lila should play along, making Adrien think that he's right and that he's helping her change. Either approach would be better than the nonsense canon gave us.

In a well written show, this would all go down over the course of a single season or even just a few episodes. As-is, the season five apology feels like too little too late. What little kid is going to be able to follow this "character arc" and learn the lesson that Adrien maybe sort of learned? Casual viewers will likely not even remember that Adrien gave Marinette bad advice back at the start of season three because why would they? This is not how you do a good subplot. It's almost as drawn out as the Gabriel plot and that's insane! A subplot is supposed to be a short story within the story so that things feel like they're moving forward.

[daengtokki]

hi!!! i love the way you write about reader and seungmins intimacy in the deity series. i was wondering for the requests leading up to minnie’s birthday, you could do a little oneshot or blurb about a first kiss between seungmin and reader??? doesn’t have to be related to the deity series at all hehe i just love your writing :)

Thank you anon! Here's a previous first kiss oneshot I did a while back, but I'm happy to write another one! We already know sk!Seungmin/reader's first actual kiss, so I was originally going to do something completely different. Instead, I decided to elaborate on their real first kiss, because it's actually quite important. I can't quite fluff it up, but...

serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

wc: ~860

rating: um....fluff? dark fluff? angsty fluff... (contains: DEITY themes; sex, death, murder, language, etc)

the difference between these two headers is something

Day 4 of Seungmin's birthday oneshot countdown!

“Hey, sweetheart…look at me,” he runs a soft thumb across your brow, and wipes away a stray tear running down your temple. Seungmin freezes, and the air catches in his throat. “Open your eyes,” he whispers.

It's been a long time since a lifeless body made him feel anything except relief and calm. Right now, his head is exploding with thoughts—it feels like a storm rolling in, slow and terrifying. The low rumble of thunder, and the flashes of light revealing the nighttime things you're not supposed to see...there here are so many parts of Seungmin's mind that he doesn't want to see.

He pulls at your chin until your lips part to listen for the movement of air. Still nothing. “Fuck.” The shakiness of his voice surprises him.

Who the hell are you, and why are you doing this to him? Dying in his bed without his permission. Seungmin doesn't have the time for this, nor the knowledge on how to fix it, but he has no choice. He has to either fix this or face the idea of gathering you up and finding somewhere to dispose of you. For a moment he imagines himself finding his phone and dialing 112, talking to a dispatcher... "I think I accidentally killed the person I was just fucking."

Shut up, he says to himself, but allows a nervous laugh to escape.

He climbs off of you and collapses onto his pillows, but his eyes don’t leave your still body

Why can't he just do that? Disposing of the body is the most important part of his job, so he's gotten very good at it. Looking at you, though...your soft, innocent face, your naked body, the scratch he left on your cheek. Something about rolling you up in his blanket and never seeing any of it ever again makes him want to scream. In some hidden part of his misfiring brain, a little connection is made without him realizing. He looks around at the dark room and sees a few pieces of the clothing he and you both ripped from your body.

Why can't he take it back?

He’s up again and walking on unsteady legs, still weak from the exertion

Is he shaky from the sex, or from fear? Both? The condom is ripped off and tossed to the side as he hunts for his sweatpants and pulls them up each leg.

Seungmin climbs onto the bed again and straddles your waist. Your cheeks are still flushed, and your lips, also still very alive looking, stay ever so slightly parted.

He listens carefully, and watches for the slightest movement in your chest.

he prides himself on his control, but sometimes he does lose himself in the moment

Your neck is still perfect and beautiful—not a single scratch or mark from his savage hands. He runs a soft finger from your jaw to the hollow of your throat, hoping to feel a slow pulse. Nothing. He looks at your lips...“Hey,” he moves a piece of hair away from your damp forehead, places his lips against yours for the very first time, and he fills your lungs with air.

Still so warm, and even softer in your impossibly relaxed state. Once...twice. He pulls away ever so slightly and looks at your closed eyes, not completely closed. He can see the whites of them just beneath your eyelashes from this angle. One more deep breath into you, and then he decides it's probably hopeless; why would any of what's inside of him help you come back? He wipes his thumb over your lips and closes them, but returns one more time for a selfish kiss. Seungmin take your lower lip between his and licks, tastes, and drags his teeth over the skin as he releases you and falls back onto the pillows.

“you see that, Daengmo?” he says, and points its face toward you, “I still can’t do anything right.”

He licks his lips and tries to get more of what he just took from you, but there's nothing left, and he can't make himself return to you for another taste. He's not very good at owning up to his mistakes, especially the big ones.

The bed moves, and Seungmin feels his heart beat against his ribs. He watches, frozen, as your fingers curl around the sheets...and you grip them, so fiercely your knuckles turn white. You don't make a sound, but the steady rise of your chest finally makes him move. He does it as slowly and softly as possible. Hands hover above your face, and he doesn't dare lay a finger on you. Not yet. Before he can think again, your eyes open, and you gasp and cough like you're ridding yourself of something poisonous. He doesn't have to touch you, because you come to him. Seungmin grabs you as you sit up and holds you steady as you gasp for air, but you don't want him. You push back.

Seungmin’s grip tightens on your shoulder, and he lets you fall back on the bed

He's seen plenty of terrified faces, but nothing like yours, because it goes right through him. There is no pleasure in the fear he's created in you.

“No…no, stop”

“I’m not going to hurt you…I promise”

His runs his palm down the cold, clammy skin on your chest, and then back up in a hopeful attempt to soothe something in you.

"Seungmin?"

"I'm sorry"

[redheadspark]

Hiii. Sorry to bother, but do you mind repeating Characters for your september prompt session? And if the answer is no... can I ask for Benedict Bridgerton with #12- Dreamy? Please?☺️

A/N - Hello! Sorry for not getting to this sooner, but I'm so happy I got to write this! I hope you like it!

Walk

Summary - Benedict knows how to love you, even in your dreams

Warnings - Mostly fluff with a hint of angst

It started with flowers floating in your dreams.

Not just any flowers, your favorite.  Beautiful peach-colored roses that bloomed at the perfect time. You loved those flowers, they reminded you of your father when you were very little and he would find them just for you.  The sweet scent they carried brought you peace and tranquility, and the velvet touch along your fingers brought you reality when you were lost in your mind.

You dreamt of those flowers, and it made you smile.

Next, it was your favorite lake, the very lake that was near your summer cottage that your family would go to every June.  It was a lovely lake, with tall grass along the sides, and instant memories of swimming in the waters from dawn until dusk, or until your mother had to drag you out.  You missed that lake as of late, and to dream it was another sign that something was going on in your dreams. 

Or someone, and you knew who it was.

Being ever observant and inquisitive about your life, your husband and soulmate Benedict Bridgerton was willing to “walk” in your dreams.  It wasn’t walking really, it was more like peeking in, like poking his head through a window and seeing on the other side.  It was a cool little trick that soulmates could do: seeing the other’s dreams or tapping into your mind when they were sleeping. It seemed like a childish thing to do, you sharing with other couples that were soulmates how they would see their spouse's dreams and uncover deep dark secrets.  But that was never the case for you and Benedict. 

You were more tight-lipped than your spouse was, not that he would chat about anything and everything if he had the chance.  You were simply an introvert who would prefer to have a small cluster of friends with you then be in a ball with thousands of others.  Benedict seemed to be the opposite: having a big family filled with brothers and sisters and the in-laws that also came with them.  You loved his family, they were nothing but warm and kind to you when you were introduced as his soulmate months before.  Your mother-in-law, Violet Bridgerton, was especially taken with you when she hugged you close.

“You two are simply lovely together, I can tell Benedict will make you very happy!” She said in glee.  And she was indeed right.

Benedict loved making you smile and bringing you happiness, whether it was his flirtatious nature with his word and longing gazes, or the small gifts he would give you since he knew you were not a big fan of massive gifts and huge proclamations of love.  He showed it also through his craft in artistry, the paintings he would gift you on a random day or on your birthday would always make you grin from ear to ear and feel that love again.  He was a wondering soulmate and husband.

Even more when he visited your dreams and saw what was plaguing your mind.

Sometimes it was good and sometimes it was bad, but it was mostly good thanks to Benedict.  You could see the same about Benedict and his own dreams, which were always light and filled with optimism and dreams that he’s had.  He was an amazing artist and was known far and wide for his work, keeping his family close by, and did not lose them at any moment.  And most of all, his marriage to you.  Some of the dreams were worries that he had if he was a good enough son to his mother or a husband to you. If his work was going to be well received or if it was something he should give up.

You woke up and ran to him, hugging him close in your arms after seeing one of those dreams of his insecurities.  He was taken aback at first, but you simply held him and whispered in his ear, “You’re good enough, my darling,”

You could have sworn you felt tears hit your nightgown.  

From then on, both you and Benedict it is a rule to never invade one another’s dreams to the point of annoyance.  Not that either one of you was prone to negative dreams, it was rare really.  If there was a dream questionable, there was room for discussion the following morning.  But that rarely happened, you two were ever open to one another and never left anything out of a conversation.  Benedict helped you blossom and be bold in your opinions and in how you spoke, in return you helped Benedict be calmer in the chaotic times.  

Even in the dire times, Benedict was there for you within your dreams.  Right after you both were married, your father fell ill and passed away within months.  It was a devastating blow to your family, you took the loss very hard since you were very close to your father.  After the funeral, Benedict held you in his arms as you cried yourself to sleep.  Though you were filled with love and comfort thanks to your soulmate, the hole that was left behind because of the absence of your father was still evident.

Yet there was Benedict, in your dream, holding you close and swaying with you as you both danced among the clouds.  

“Thank you, my love,” You thanked him in the dream, seeing him peer down at you and trace your face with his fingers.

“You don’t ever have to thank me for taking care of the love of my life,” He replied in a loving tone.  

Years later and with several dreams already shared, you both were growing as a couple in a new phase of life. Your mother gifted you the summer cottage, something your father wished to do when you were a bit older but your mother figured it was the right time to gift you the small home that was filled to the brim with memories. Benedict whisked you away for one summer, 4 weeks of the pair of you in nature and using the lake for all it’s worth.

9 months later, your son was born.  Affectionally name after your father.  You and Benedict would bring your son to the same cottage every year, making new memories together and always looking forward.  Leaving the past behind.

The End.

[puppetmaster13u]

Because it is Mermay:

Originally did this art for one of @radiance1 prompts/story ideas, which also gives an idea of colors so.