#if i have him one pack (I wouldn’t probably) he’d just ???????

[alexanderlightweight]

Wednesday prompt - Clary/Jase/Izzy etc try to justify something by claiming that 'you only met/got together with Magnus because of our decisions so they can't be that bad' only for Alex to fire back about the inevitability of their meeting, even without being institute/warlock leaders & politic meetings, there is no world in which he would look upon Magnus and fall. (Meanwhile, Magnus is either swooning, about to swoon when he hears, or ready to 'prove' how inevitable they are - in bed ;)

i hope you enjoy what my brain came up with, it's been a bit but here it is <3

lumine

whispers in the night

“Oh please, it’s because of Clary that you even met Magnus. You wouldn’t have had your happily ever after if it wasn’t for her! In fact it’s also because of me! Since you know, I found out because of Camille.” Simon’s voice lowers at that last bit and he looks around, as if wary the name will summon her.

Amusing, but it takes at least grave dirt for that.

Izzy winces at Simon’s usual lack of tact but even when Alec glares at her, she just shrugs in a way Alec knows means ‘well he’s not wrong’.

Worse, Jace and Clary agree. 

Out loud.

In a bar full of shadowhunters and downworlders both.

Alec is about to be known as the HOTI with the most incompetent family. Especially since his mother’s deruning is public knowledge at this point. 

Worse, at least five of the downworlders in the back crowd work for Magnus in some capacity.  Alec can recognize how the magic on him reacts to the magic they’re sworn to.  They’ll also have noticed the reaction and be keeping an eye on him for Magnus’ sake and probably an ear too.

Every one in the shadowworld knows that Magnus Lightwood-Bane loves to hear what his shadowhunter husband is up to.  Magnus has the biggest spy network that crosses both shadowhunter and downworlder lines and it’s centered around gossip of Alec and no one’s even noticed.

“Well I will admit that it’s because of Clary that I met Magnus in combat, twice on the same night. But Magnus and I were always fated to meet, it was just a matter of time.”

“Okay, but Lydia! You would have already been married before you even met Magnus.” Simon points it out quickly but Izzy and Jace both wince.  Alec is glad to see that at least they’re smart enough to see the issue of this particular logic.

“I wouldn’t have had to think about marriage for another six years by my original plans if Clary hadn’t shown up. I only even met Lydia when she was sent over because of the waves Clary was making. The very thing that caused our parents to push me for a political marriage was Clary’s existence and presence.”

Alec can do this all day.

In fact he’d be delighted to, if it helps hammer some sense into them.

“Wait, what do you mean all of that happened because of me?” Clary doesn’t sound horrified, she sounds vaguely defensive and Alec sighs.

“Well you showed up and insisted on dragging with you a mundane who had no business in a world that ended up killing him. You got over a dozen of my shadowhunters killed because you didn’t follow orders. Not to mention how many on behalf of the Clave.  I know you didn’t understand those orders, but that’s exactly why you should have listened. To at least learn what you shouldn’t do, if you were still going to disobey.

“It’s the same reason that dozens of downworlders are dead because of you.  Perhaps not your direct actions all the time, but even just your presence has caused death. The main New York pack alpha changed because of you and Simon.  It happened through Luke but it was because of you. The power structures recentered themselves, dozens of vampires died because again, you brought Simon along.  True, they shouldn’t have kidnapped him but unlike you, they didn’t have the ability to defy orders so defiantly and they were under orders.  You were not. In fact you often ignored orders, suggestions, commands and even begging at times. If you hadn’t insisted on dragging Simon with you despite repeated warnings, none of that would have happened.”

Jace is beginning to glower at him but there’s also red high on his cheeks and his ears and Alec has a feeling that the year he spent with his grandmother before Clary got her memories back was good for his self-restraint.  Shocking as it is to think that Imogen has any, let alone the ability to teach it.  Alec feels like the old politician is just too stubborn and Jace too happy to have a family. 

Izzy is looking at the table, the ceiling, her bracelet... anywhere but Simon, Clary or Alec’s own face.

Simon looks disturbed, as if he’s only just realized quite a few things and also like he might lose his dinner.  

Which Alec will not forgive.  

If Simon ruins Alec’s new shirt — that Magnus picked out for tonight — then Alec will sit Simon down and point out every single instance in which Clary either deliberately put him in danger, ignored him, or the times Simon himself created chaos and then cried foul about it.

It’s been almost a year of being back after two years gone and things are still in the fond memory stage of things regarding Clary.  Alec is happy to stir up bad memories before he will let anyone start pulling ‘Clary saved the world’ bullshit again.

By Raziel, Alec barely handled not starting a massacre the first time it popped up and he knows for a fact that it was either Izzy or Simon or Jace who started it.

Thankfully, while she’s quick to believe any accolades and praise of herself, Clary is less quick to claim such a great feat after all she’s lost.

That doesn’t mean Alec won’t keep an eye on her though.

“My point is—” Alec says, because he actually does have one. “Is that while Clary certainly caused enough disaster for me to meet Magnus several times over, her actions could have just as likely kept us apart. It certainly didn’t help us get together. What was always going to bring Magnus and I together is the Institute’s wards. Even discounting my eventual full promotion to Head, I was already a Commander. The wards were due for a touch-up even before the experimental forsaken invaded, it just got delayed because of all the waves Valentine and Clary were both making. And Magnus has been the holder of the Institute wards for decades, our meeting was set into fate since before you were born.”

Clary is frowning at him, but her face has been like that since he finished pointing out all the shit she pulled.

Simon looks like he wants either the booth to swallow him whole, or to sink under the table and melt into the shadows like a rat.

Perhaps literally.

“But the whole reason you and Magnus are together is because you met when you did, right?”

Alec blinks at Simon because really, he’s trying way too hard to win this.  Alec suddenly has a suspicion that perhaps it’s either because Simon wants downworlder credit for helping introduce them, or it's for a bet.

Simon’s been notorious at betting with Maia, Lily and Gretel and while it’s kept on the downlow who wins and who loses, Alec’s heard the stakes are intense.

“I mean, while watching Magnus kill a rogue shadowhunter certainly charmed me, it wasn't the best setting to get to know each other.” Alec smirks, “I would have been just as charmed to see him come check the wards. I don’t think there’s a universe or setting imaginable where I wouldn’t be interested the moment I saw Magnus.”

“I can assure you darling, I feel the same.”

Magnus' voice comes from beside them and Alec gets up automatically, turning to find Magnus there, arms ready to come around him.

There’s a moment where they greet, lips meeting in casual tenderness before parting and Alec lets himself relax into the possessive hands of his husband. Fingers dip greedily beneath his shirt as Magnus palms the small of his back and then trails his fingers further still.

“Alexander and I were always going to meet eventually.” Magnus looks at the table with the same amount of aloof boredom he exudes around Lorenzo Rey and his ilk. “In fact I believe I could have wooed him within a day, if your presence and actions hadn’t backed him into a corner. In fact he never would have gotten engaged if he’d made drinks with me, I can assure you that. However, why did he miss drinks? Oh, because you and Simon ran off and then got yourselves kidnapped.”

Ah.

Alec had forgotten that Magnus is still nursing quite a grudge about the whole thing.  Especially when Alec had also admitted that if it hadn't been for Clary, he probably would have been in Magnus' arms if not his bed very quickly. 

Clary’s presence had brought both the eye of the Clave and the focus of Alec’s parents and that is why he’d backed off and been so hesitant. 

However, if Alec had a chance to have an actual date or night with Magnus, like the drinks they never got, he probably would have enough of a taste to stand up for what he wanted. As it is, Alec hadn’t been willing to risk everything on just a possibility, but if Magnus and he had gotten that opportunity before the wedding kiss.

Well, anything could have happened.

And Magnus knows it.

Alec presses another kiss to Magnus' jaw to hide the smirk tugging at his own lips.

“At least I invited you to the wedding.” Izzy offers, as if trying to deflate the entire debacle.

“Izzy. I really don’t think you want to hear mine or Magnus’ thoughts about the wedding and why it was even brought up.”

Izzy seems to remember then that she was a part of the cause and she shoves a handful of colorful candy in her mouth.

“As delightful as it is to hear you all try to take credit for mine and Alexander’s relationship—” here Magnus gives them all a cold, steady stare. Because while not entirely caused by them alone, almost every hurdle in their relationship has been caused or started by his siblings and Clary or Simon.  Even if it was just the situation they found themselves in. “I’ve already let you have him for longer than agreed upon. I’d like my husband all to myself for once.” 

Alec gives a polite nod and just steps closer and away with Magnus, that’s as much as a goodbye as they’re getting from him tonight.

“You’re early.” Alec murmurs once he’s sure he’s been touching Magnus long enough for Magnus' sound-muffling ring to encompass him as well.

“Well they didn’t notice and someone texted me. They seemed to think there was about to be a brawl if I didn’t come to collect you.”

“I wasn’t about to start a fight.” Alec is offended, he was using his words. Not his fists or weapons.

“Not you darling, the topic of conversation was bringing up some bad memories. Hardly your fault—” well actually, it technically is since Alec normally keeps this kind of discussion behind sound-proofed walls.

However they implied things about him and Magnus that Alec couldn’t allow. As if their relationship is contingent on anything other than instinct and want combined with effort.

This might make tensions for Clary a bit rough again but she’s handled and inflicted worse. Maybe this will finally teach her and Simon to be more careful with their words, but Alec feels like that’s just wishful thinking.

[shinoko-oshi]

Simon’s sweet wife

seen other people talk about the task force finding out about Simon’s bird at first in subtle ways so I made this

It started with the lunches.

At first, no one thought much of it. Simon had brought the occasional sandwich before, nothing out of the ordinary. But then it changed. Out went the basic bread and meat, and in came proper meals. Lasagna. Curry. A neatly packed container of something warm and homemade, tucked right beside a little folded note Simon was far too quick to snatch out of sight when Johnny leaned over, grinning.

“C’mon, Simon,” he teased, voice full of curiosity. “Just let us have a peek. We wanna know who’s makin’ you lunch like that, eh?”

Kyle nodded, snickering.

“Piss off,” Simon grumbled, big hand curling protectively around the note like it was a classified file. He didn’t care that they were watching, didn’t even look up. Just reread your words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth beneath the mask.

“Ay, Johnny, look! you can see a heart through the paper!” Kyle laughed, catching the way the light hit the thin paper just right, revealing the faint outline of a heart signed with your name.

After that, it became a bit of a running joke. Not that Simon gave them anything to work with. But the mystery only deepened when, during a three week deployment at another unit, a care package showed up with his name on it.

To say the guys hovered would be an understatement. Johnny and Kyle practically sat on either side of him like vultures, trying to act casual. Price stayed back in his chair, cigarette between his fingers, looking disinterested but Simon could feel his eyes, just as nosy as the others.

The box had all the essentials: snacks, cold weather gear, a familiar blanket from home. A couple of your sweet notes, some of his favorite tea in bulk. But what really got them going were the Polaroids tucked in between the layers of stuff.

Kyle caught a glimpse of one. Simon sitting on a porch step with you in his lap, your smile soft, his arm wrapped tight around your waist.

Johnny elbowed him. “Alright, Simon. When ’re we gonna meet this mystery missus of yours?”

“She wouldn’t like you.” He grunted in response 

“What is she, a grump like you?”

Hardly.

The real surprise came a few weeks later, when a sweet bird showed up at base asking for Lieutenant Simon Riley.

Price was the first to see you. He’d expected someone with a set it glare, reserved, maybe a little sharp around the edges. Instead, you walked right up to Simon with a warm smile, kissed his cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world, and handed him a jacket. 

Simon knew Price, Kyle, and Johnny were watching from around the corner. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if half the rookies and a few of the other sergeants were too.

But none of that mattered.

Not when his sweet girl was standing in front of him.

“Why are you here, baby?” he asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You forgot your jacket,” you said, brow furrowed. “And I heard it was supposed to be cold today. I didn’t want you to get sick.”

Your voice alone cracked something in him, and it was impossible not to smile under the mask.

“Y’know I would’ve been fine, love.”

Still, he took the jacket from your hands with a quiet “thank you,” promising to wear it, walking you down the hallway before watching you turn and head back out.

Well— not before Johnny and Kyle caught you at the corner, peering over the wall like a couple of kids up to no good.

They didn’t say much, but by the time Simon heard about it later, you’d already agreed to let them come over for dinner sometime.

He just shook his head. Not even surprised by their antics. But he didn’t say no either.

Because you’d said yes.

So next Saturday, he guessed he’d be setting an extra few plates at the table for Johnny, Kyle, and probably Price, too. 

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Dog Tags (2)

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> You're still keeping his Dog Tags safe.

Disclaimer: This is Part 2. Part 1 can be found here. Mentions of injuries and blood, Bucky helps carry you to safety (kinda), little angst/hurt/comfort moments, some fluff moments plus friendship moments with Wanda and Kate. Not Proof Read.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kate asked you for the millionth time. “It’s just that those arrows…I know I make them but sometimes I can put a little too much after kick- Clint tells me I need to find a substitute but the black market-”

“Kate,” you smiled and held your hand on her arm. “I promise you, I’m okay.”

“But that blast was big. Like, big big.”

You nodded. “I know. But I’m okay, I promise.”

“Kate!”

She turned and looked down the jet. 

“Go, I’ll be fine.”

She looked back at you, “You swear?”

You nodded, “I swear.”

Once Kate finally left, you let the wall drop for a moment. You didn’t blame her. The kick had been big, but it had also saved your life. Maybe you got a few bruises to remember it by, but you knew you’d be okay. 

It would just hurt in the meantime. 

“Here.” A voice spoke somewhere above you.

You looked around you until you found where the voice was coming from. Bucky. 

What the hell did he want?

You looked down at the hand where he was holding an ice pack. “Take it. For your ribs.”

You swatted his hand away, “I’m fine.” 

Bucky just stood and rolled his eyes. Even watching you lift your arm to swat him away looked painful. He’d seen the blast with his own eyes, which also meant he knew that if it was him in your position, he wouldn’t have walked out completely unscathed. 

“You’re not fine.” Bucky broke the ice pack before shaking it as he crouched in front of you. 

For a moment, you recoiled back. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m gonna help you. Would you let me help you?” 

This time Bucky didn’t fully wait for an answer before he placed the ice pack against your ribs for you. And, for a moment, you recoiled from the cold until your body melted into it. 

Okay. Maybe you were hurt, a little. But that still didn’t mean you needed his help. 

“I can hold it myself.”

“You can barely lift your arms.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Bucky shrugged, “You’re getting it anyway.”

“Why?” The question left your lips before you could stop yourself. But it was a reasonable question. 

Save for a few questionable moments outside of the ten minute window you and Bucky could be alone, you weren’t two people that helped each other. Fought with was probably the more likely statement. 

“Because you need it.” 

It was the best explanation Bucky could come up with at that moment. But it still gained him something. 

You were looking him in the eyes. It was rare he ever got to be this close to you and actually see the colour of your eyes. He didn’t quite know how the feud between you and him had started out. But what he did know was that he would happily drown in your gaze. 

And it was thoughts like that, that sent him into a spin. 

So, regrettably, he looked away. But even that gained him something. 

You watched as a smile ghosted its way onto his lips and you followed his eye line to the metal chain around your neck. 

“You’re still wearing them.”

The Dog Tags. The one’s he thought he’d lost nearly three months ago, only to work out you’d had them all along. It had nearly been almost two months, alone, since that night in the training room. 

You raised a hand to touch your chest. You could feel the outline of the tags underneath your clothes. “You told me to keep them safe.”

You watched as a corner of Bucky’s mouth slanted up slightly and, just for a moment, you let your mind wonder what it would be like if you kissed him right in that spot. 

You shook your head and this time, you looked away. You dropped the hand from your chest just before a rattle came over the jet. 

“We’re coming into landing.”

You just nodded, not trusting yourself to use words at that moment. But you gained them again when you stood to get off the jet only for Bucky to put your arm over his shoulder. 

“What are you doing? I can walk on my own, Barnes.”

“You’d only collapse three feet from here. Thought I’d save myself the trouble of catching you.”

You scowled, “Like I told Kate-”

“So help me, God, if you tell me you’re ‘fine’ I’m gonna call Sam. You’ve got a sprained ankle, a few fractured ribs, if not, broken, and a lifetime of bruises to remember today by. And that’s just what I can see.”

You just looked at Bucky, your arm still over his shoulder, his hand still clasping yours. You didn’t know how or why, but you let him help you off the jet. 

But when Wanda asked you about it later on, you just told her it was because you were too tired. 

“It was a moment of weakness.”

Wanda hummed as she sat on the edge of your bed. “Maybe.”

“Maybe? What do you mean, ‘maybe’? There’s no ‘maybe’ about it.”

Wanda chuckled, “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thank you, Shakespeare.”

Wanda hit your leg before climbing up the bed to sit beside you. She grabbed a pillow and crossed her arms over it. 

“Oh, come on. You and I both know you have feelings for him.”

You shook your head. “Yeah, he’s a massive pain in the ass.”

“Those aren’t the feelings I’m talking about.”

You stayed quiet for a few moments. “Stop reading my mind.”

Wanda was calm as she shook her head. “I don’t have to read your mind for this one.”

Your shoulders sagged for a moment and you looked at your hands, picking at your fingers. “It’s not like I meant to let it happen.”

“Nobody ever lets feelings happen. They just happen. It’s what makes you human.”

You just shrugged your shoulders. “He is still a pain in my ass.”

Wanda chuckled. “Have you ever thought to talk to him-”

“No! No. No, absolutely not. No. Never.”

Wanda hummed again. “Maybe it might help. Who knows? Maybe this isn’t a one sided love affair?”

You recoiled a little, again. “Love? Who ever said anything about love? I’m sure it’s just a stupid…work crush.”

Wanda looked at you. She didn’t have to read your mind to know that even you didn’t believe what you’d just said. 

“Hey,” Wanda tapped your leg. “Can I get you anything? You know, since Sam has banished you here for the next week.”

You chuckled. “I’m still allowed to leave…when he’s not here.”

When Bucky had taken you to the medical bay, you’d been given a full diagnostic. A sprained ankle, two fractured ribs, a little bruising around your internal organs that would heal itself, plenty of pulled muscles and, like Bucky had put it, enough bruises to make sure you remembered the day for a lifetime. 

Once Sam had found out, he’d doubled down on the Doctor’s orders to maintain bedrest. 

A few hours after Wanda had left, you were lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. And for a while, you just started thinking whilst absentmindedly fiddling with the dog tags still around your neck. 

You thought about the ending of the movie you’d just watched with Wanda. You thought about the pain in your side. You thought about the feeling of Bucky’s fingertips gently pressing at your side as he held the ice pack in place. 

He’d been checking to make sure nothing was broken. That was how he knew. 

Then you looked at the dog tags. Like every night, your thumb traced over the letters. 

Little did you know, the next time someone else traced their thumb over the letters, it was because your blood had been splattered across them. 

Part Three

[jxwl4k]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ Holding hands .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ . . . genre. fluff

☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x fem!reader

⤿ yn has a habit of holding her friends hands except for bakugou.

⋆˚✿˖° j speaking . . .

- this has been in my drafts since November and I’m only posting it now🥲

-this is inspired by a wonwoo oneshot it’s from tiktok and the author’s name is serenedust_ you can check it out in tiktok, happy reading, my loves! <3

YN had this little habit—one her friends were well aware of. Crowds made her uneasy, and whenever she found herself surrounded by too many people, she’d instinctively reach out, intertwining her fingers with whoever was closest. It was a small, grounding gesture that helped her keep calm.

Her friends had grown used to it over time.

“Ah, the famous YN hand-holding ritual,” Mina teased one day, giving YN’s hand a squeeze. “It’s cute, you know. Like you’re our little comfort buddy.”

YN laughed, a little embarrassed. “I just… feel calmer when I’m holding someone’s hand. I’m weird, huh?”

“Nah, we love it,” Kirishima reassured her with his usual bright grin. “In fact, you’re welcome to cling to me any time, YN. A pro hero should be able to help out with stuff like that, right?”

Mina nodded enthusiastically. “Totally! Besides, it’s not weird if it’s helping you feel better.”

YN was grateful for their support. She knew they didn’t mind her habit, and that only made her more comfortable reaching for their hands whenever she needed it. But there was one person she’d never tried holding hands with—Bakugou.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. If she was honest with herself, she sometimes thought about it, imagining how it might feel to intertwine her fingers with his. But Bakugou was… well, Bakugou. He wasn’t exactly the “gentle touch” type, and she figured he’d probably find it annoying or weird if she reached for him in that way. So she always avoided touching him, keeping her hands to herself when he was around.

One day, as they sat together for lunch, Mina brought it up, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hey, YN, have you noticed that you never reach for Bakugou’s hand?”

YN nearly choked on her drink. “W-What? I—uh…”

Kirishima chuckled, leaning in. “She’s got a point, you know. You hold our hands all the time, but not Bakugou’s. Are you scared of him?”

“Scared?!” YN stammered, her cheeks heating up. “I’m not scared of him! I just… I don’t think he’d like it, that’s all.”

Mina gave her a knowing look. “Oh, really? Because Bakugou here doesn’t seem like the type to get flustered over something as small as holding hands.”

“Shut up, Pinky,” Bakugou growled, though he didn’t deny it. His gaze shifted, and he avoided looking directly at YN.

YN could feel her face burning, but she quickly changed the subject, laughing it off. “Anyway! It’s not a big deal. I’m fine with holding your hands. It’s just… different.”

But her friends’ teasing lingered in her mind, making her hyper-aware of Bakugou’s presence. She had no idea that Bakugou, on the other hand, had been noticing her habit all along. He’d seen her reach for Mina’s hand, loop her arm with Kirishima’s, and each time, he felt an uncomfortable pang of jealousy. Why wouldn’t she reach out to him? Did she think he wasn’t as dependable as the others?

As much as he tried to brush it off, it bothered him more than he’d admit.

During UA’s annual festival, the crowded grounds buzzed with excitement. Class 1-A had been helping with setting up booths, and the noise and energy around them were overwhelming. YN could feel her nerves kicking in as they made their way through the busy festival.

“Whoa, it’s packed,” Kirishima said, glancing around.

“Tell me about it,” YN mumbled, trying to keep her breathing steady.

Sensing her discomfort, Mina grabbed YN’s hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “Hey, remember we’re all here if you need us.”

YN nodded, grateful. They continued walking, and as the crowd around them grew denser, she instinctively reached out to grab another hand. Her fingers slipped through someone else’s, feeling warm and steady—until she looked up and realized whose hand she was holding.

Bakugou.

Her heart jumped, and she immediately tried to pull her hand back, stammering, “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

But Bakugou’s grip tightened, refusing to let go. His expression was calm, almost unreadable, but his gaze was intense as he looked down at her.

“Quit squirming,” he muttered. “If it helps you feel safe, just… keep holding it.”

YN stared up at him, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. “B-But I didn’t think you’d want to…”

“What, you think I didn’t notice?” he interrupted, voice a little rougher, though he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “You’re always holding their hands, but never mine. You think I’d mind?”

Behind them, Mina and Kirishima exchanged wide-eyed glances, grinning like they’d just witnessed the world’s biggest revelation. Mina’s voice echoed in a teasing whisper, “Ohhh, looks like someone’s finally holding Bakugou’s hand…”

YN was mortified, but Bakugou simply glared at their friends. “Mind your own business.”

They continued through the festival, YN’s hand still tightly wrapped in Bakugou’s. The warmth of his grip was both unfamiliar and comforting, and she could feel her anxiety melting away. For once, the noise of the crowd didn’t seem so overwhelming.

She glanced up at him, offering a small, grateful smile. “Thank you, Bakugou.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, though his cheeks had the faintest hint of a blush. “Just don’t let go all of a sudden.”

Mina nudged Kirishima and whispered, “Think they’ll let go after this?”

Kirishima laughed quietly, giving her a playful nudge back. “Not a chance. I think we’ll be seeing a lot more of this.”

As YN walked with Bakugou, hand in hand, she realized she didn’t mind the teasing. In fact, she didn’t want to let go at all. And judging by the way Bakugou’s grip stayed firm and steady, he felt the same way.

Years into their careers as pro heroes, YN and Bakugou had seen more than their fair share of action and chaos. Tonight, however, was one of those rare, peaceful evenings, where the two of them could finally unwind together. They’d just finished a mission, and now they sat sprawled on Bakugou’s couch, swapping war stories over takeout.

As they relaxed, a comfortable silence settled between them until YN, lost in thought, let out a small laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Bakugou grumbled, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing,” YN said, shaking her head with a smirk. “Just… I was thinking about that festival back at UA.”

Bakugou squinted suspiciously. “Which one?”

“The one where I, uh… accidentally grabbed your hand.”

Bakugou’s face turned pink, but he quickly masked it with an annoyed scowl. “Accidentally, huh? Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

“Oh, come on, it was!” YN protested, laughing as she nudged his shoulder. “I thought you were Kirishima! But then I looked up and realized it was you, and I was mortified. I was ready to disappear right there.”

Bakugou snorted. “Yeah, I noticed. Thought you’d drop dead from embarrassment.”

“Hey! You didn’t help by tightening your grip, you know!” YN shot back, giving him a playful glare. “You practically crushed my hand! What was that about?”

Bakugou shrugged, feigning indifference. “Thought you needed the support, or whatever. You looked like you were about to pass out.”

YN giggled, shaking her head. “Sure, sure, big tough hero just wanted to help.”

Bakugou cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… I was waitin’ for you to do it all damn year, you know. You’d grab everyone else’s hand like it was nothing, and when it was me, suddenly you couldn’t even look at me.”

YN blinked, surprised. “Wait, you… actually wanted me to hold your hand?”

“Tch,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “Why do you think I always stood next to you in crowded places? Wasn’t a coincidence, idiot.”

Her laughter softened into a warm smile. “So all this time… you were jealous?”

Bakugou shot her a glare, cheeks bright red. “I wouldn’t call it jealousy.”

“What would you call it, then?” YN asked, smirking mischievously.

“A strategic maneuver,” he said, nose in the air. “If you got anxious, it was only logical that I’d be the one to handle it.”

YN snickered. “Right, because nothing says ‘tough guy’ like hoping someone will hold your hand.”

“Oi!” Bakugou growled, though his expression softened into an uncharacteristic smile. “You’re lucky I let you grab it at all.”

“Lucky, huh?” YN teased, leaning into his shoulder. “Well, in that case, I guess I’m lucky you’re still holding it.”

Bakugou’s fingers intertwined with hers, his grip firm but gentle. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t go getting sappy on me now.”

YN rolled her eyes but didn’t let go, letting the warmth of his hand remind her of that day at the festival—the beginning of something she hadn’t realized they both wanted.

And for the rest of the evening, every time she tried to pull her hand away, Bakugou would grumble, tightening his grip and muttering, “Strategic maneuver, remember?”

YN only laughed, realizing that some things really never change.

© jxwl4k 2025

[porcalinecunt]

(𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃)𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 ♡︎

🎀 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ having the body of a cyborg came with it’s perks, including turning boothill into your own personal porn bot a plug away! ~ ♡︎

·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐗 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

cw — afab!reader. mean dom!boothill. improper use of usb ports. pornography. manhandling. overstimulation. edging. pussy drunk boothill. no pronouns for reader.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : saw someone on tt mention inappropriate use of boothill’s usb ports, and i couldn’t help myself. <33 as usual, enjoy!

“..and i’m supposed to plug this in?”

Boothill spun the harddrive around his fingers, staring at it with both curiosity yet suspicion. it was a hot pink color with a heart sticker sloppily slapped onto the front. you handed it to him without saying a word, leaving him beyond dumbfounded.

you simply nodded, trying hard not to burst out laughing. despite the glaringly obvious USB ports that were carved into his waist, he swore to have never actually stuck anything in them. by anything, of course, were any harddrives that could’ve been packed with whatever info or footage that would’ve automatically made it’s way into his memory. he didn’t want anyone’s weird porno or stupid memes to burn into his motherboard and live with it.

yet he had a hard time saying no to you. hell, he’d never say no to you unless it’d kill you. then again, it was probably a random assortment of cat videos you came across on your feed. it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek. right?

holding up a reluctant thumbs up, you plugged the harddrive in and awaited his reaction with anticipation. boothill never looked away from your reaction, quickly noticing something was rather…off about your face. your lips curled into a seductive grin, biting down on your lower lip while hearts practically carved your pupils. your cheeks and nose were flushed a slight pink that faded to a hot red color.

yet, it was already too late for him.

his vision suddenly became a hot pink blur, the gears within his body had began to spun widely while the mini fans tried to cool down his heating body. the blood red target in his eye morphed into a pink heart while he spaced out at what was being shown in front of him.

nothing but pure pornography, some of the most explicit, flooding his memory and infecting his circuits with the love virus. boothill felt his head spin from the lewd imagery, bouncing from clip to clip of multiple sex acts all at once. from simple missionary to subs being bent in half by their ridiculously larger doms, there was even one where they were in full nelson. legs high up with thier sopping cunt in full view. it was all too much.

“so this..is what y’want me to do to ya…”

the cyborg chuckled, overwhelmed with his sudden libedo. he looks over at you with hungry eyes, flashing his shark toothed grin the moment you nodded.

“why didn’t ya say so, dollface..?”

“a-ah! m’sorry! m’sorry boothill..! i-i was only p-playing..ngh!”

your clothes were torn clean off without a damn given, leaving you bare and vulnerable as the cyborg pumped his cock in and out of your sopping pussy. just like how you wanted it, bent in half in full nelson with your legs held high as only boothill’s arms kept you from falling. his pace was unforgiving, hungrily stuffing you full like your his last meal on death row. despite your body already stiffening from the position, boothill showed no sign of stopping. his eyes, bright pink with hearts dialating for pupils, full of burning desire and a greedy lust that clouded his judgement till his mind went blank.

it was as if the cyborg was built for fucking, his only goal being to push you beyind your human limit.

“zip it, sugar. you're gonna take m’dick even when i’m done with ya, you hear?”

boothill hissed in your ear with a mean rasp, shark-like teeth nibbling away at your earlobe. the ticklish feeling only added to the intense overstimulation that turned your brain into mush. you felt the familiar knot in your stomach close to snapping for what seems like the tenth time tonight, until a sudden emptiness snapped you back into reality. looking down, you noticed how boothill pulled himself out, leaving you hanging. a whine came out of your throat almost instinctively at the neglect.

“boothilll..! i was so clo!—“

you’re words were rudely cut off as the ranger threw you onto the bed with you laying on your back. he wasted no time crawling on top of you and pressing his heavy body against yours. trapped, you couldn’t even move an inch as you squirmed under his touch. he practically caged you.

“keep whinin’ like that and I'll leave ya empty. got that?”

as difficult as it was, you pressed your lips together and screwed your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to keep quite. your cunny spasmed around his length as he kept going with his violent pace. even with the harddrive, you could never imagine boothill going this far. you truely underestimated the strength of the virus that infected his mechanical body with such libido, yet you don’t regret it. you continued to cry out as your limbs grew numb, your senses going blank in an orgasmic euphoria. you were teetering towards the fuckin’ edge.

you sobbed out babbles of “‘m gonna cum!~” over and over again like it was automatic. finally, the knot snapped in two as stars filled your vision. if he wasn’t made of metal, you would’ve left some nasty scratch marks.

on the other hand, the ranger watched in pure awe as his pretty baby fell apart on his dick. your fucked out expression, teary eyes and pouty lips covered in spit, only fuled him for more. you couldn’t even get a breath in as you were picked up and flipped onto your stomach, ass high up in the air.

“you think ‘m done yet sugar? hehe, that’s cute.”

you could only sigh in response, unable to do anything about your own mess. lesson learned, never fuck with a machine you know so little about.

© porcalinecunt 💌 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[ccupcakeyss]

𓍢   t    ׅ   ⬞  HE PUNCHED A WHAT NOW?

SUMMARY: feeling tired, you decide to stay at home whilst toji takes your toddler, megumi, to the park. however, a little... incident happens at the park.

WC: 631

NOTES: oh wholesome dad toji u will be missed💔 not proofread, also kinda outta character... ANYWAYS ENJOY!!

You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in your favorite blanket, sipping tea and trying not to fall asleep upright. Exhaustion hit you like a truck lately, and your body wasn’t taking no for an answer today.

Toji noticed the bags under your eyes as soon as you shuffled out of the bedroom, and he’d immediately knelt down, rubbing your calves and murmuring, “You need rest. Let me take 'Gumi out for a while. Go lie down.”

So you did. You trusted him. (Mostly.)

Toji packed a tiny backpack for Megumi — snacks, a juice box, wet wipes he probably wouldn’t use — and scooped the boy up under his arm like a sack of potatoes.

“Ready to cause problems on purpose?” Toji grinned.

Megumi beamed. “YEAH!”

You just sighed and waved from the couch. “Don’t let him jump off anything taller than he is!”

“No promises.”

⸺

At the park…

It was going fine. Megumi was stomping through mulch like it owed him money, going down the slide with his arms in the air like a tiny daredevil. Toji leaned back on a bench, one leg up, smirking every time a kid got annoyed that his son kept cutting the line.

That is, until another dad stormed up to him — red-faced, puffed up like an angry pigeon in a polo shirt.

“Your kid punched my son,” the man snapped. “I watched it happen. That kind of behavior’s unacceptable.”

Toji raised a brow, chewing on a toothpick he didn’t remember putting in his mouth. “Punched him, huh?”

“Yes!” the man snapped. “He was playing just fine until—”

“Papa!” Megumi came running up, completely unbothered, tiny fists pumping as he sprinted to his dad’s side. “That guy’s talking about me!”

Toji looked down. “Did you punch a kid, Megumi?"

“Yup,” Megumi replied, very proudly. “He was hogging the slide! Wouldn’t let anyone go down, so I hit him in the arm. Like this—” He did a little demonstration punch in the air, nodding solemnly.

Toji choked.

The other dad gasped like a Victorian woman fainting at a scandal.

Toji turned slowly to the man and smirked. “There you have it. Slide-hogging solved. That’s my boy.”

“Are you serious?! He assaulted—”

“Oh, calm down,” Toji muttered. “He’s five, not in the mafia.”

“Don’t you discipline your child?”

Toji stood up to his full height.

The man took one step back immediately.

“I do,” Toji said, his voice low and calm, “when he does something wrong.”

And with that, he scooped Megumi back under his arm again, grabbed the backpack, and walked off toward the car like nothing happened.

Megumi giggled the whole way.

“Did you see his face, Papa?”

“I saw it, little man. Classic.”

⸺

Back at home…

You were feeling a little more rested when they got back, sitting up with a soft smile as your boys walked in.

“Hi, sweetheart,” you greeted, reaching for Megumi, who immediately clambered into your lap, kicking off his shoes in the process.

“Hi Mama!! Guess what!!”

You kissed his cheek. “What?”

“I punched a kid!!”

.

.

.

You blinked. “You what?"

Megumi giggled. “At the park! He wouldn’t let me down the slide so I went pow!” He demonstrated again, like a little anime character, complete with sound effects.

You slowly turned your head toward your husband.

“Toji.”

Toji froze mid-stretch.

“…Megumi, we talked about this,” he sighed, rubbing his temples. “You weren’t supposed to tell Mama.”

You stared at him. “You told him not to tell me?!”

“He was hogging the slide!” Toji argued. “What do you want from me?! The kid was being a little brat.”

“Toji!”

Megumi smiled proudly, “Papa said it was ‘situational justice.’”

“Oh my God.”

Toji just grinned sheepishly. “Hey. At least we know he’s got good aim.”

[favefandomimagines]

Simp (f.l)

Summary: Frank is pining hardcore after his coworker…very hardcore

Request: the lack of frank fics on here is crazy cos he’s so gorgeous and complex but anyways i see you write for him so i was wondering if you could do like hardcore pining, yearning frank x reader where everyone in the pitt can see the tension between them but they are both too stubborn to make the first move

AN: I love a man who yearns

The Pit never really slept. Even when the halls were quieter, and the monitors only beeped sporadically, there was a pulse in the place—steady, stubborn, alive. Dr. Frank Langdon liked to think he was much the same.

After the messy collapse of his marriage and the months of slow, aching rebuild afterward, he carried himself with a certain armor. Confident, cocky even. Unshakable.

Except, of course, when it came to her.

Y/N.

Y/N was chaos and kindness bottled in one person. She had this way of commanding a trauma bay with a clipped, efficient voice that left even seasoned nurses scrambling to follow her orders. She was brilliant, stubborn, and sharp-tongued enough to keep up with Frank—and that was saying something.

The worst part? She had no idea.

Or maybe she did.

Frank leaned against the nurse’s station, arms crossed, pretending to review a chart on his tablet while sneaking glances at Y/N across the ER.

She was laughing with Dr. Mohan by the vending machines, head thrown back, one hand lightly resting on her hip. Frank could feel the tug in his chest like a goddamn fishhook. He swallowed thickly.

Mohan said something else—probably an inside joke between them—and Y/N laughed again. Frank had never envied a vending machine so much in his life.

"You’re staring again," muttered Dana, sliding past him with a smirk.

"I’m not staring," Frank grumbled, heat creeping up his neck.

"Sure you're not," Dana sing-songed, disappearing into a patient room.

Frank sighed and ran a hand through his messy brown hair. How had it come to this? He, Frank Langdon, reduced to a pining idiot over a woman he couldn’t even bring himself to properly ask out.

Because it wasn’t just a crush. Not anymore.

It was the way his stomach twisted whenever Y/N smiled at someone else. It was the way he tuned into her voice automatically, even in a packed trauma bay. It was the way he noticed when she was tired or when she had a new pen tucked behind her ear.

It was the way he caught himself thinking of her, constantly.

And it scared the absolute hell out of him.

Meanwhile, across the ER, Y/N was not as oblivious as she pretended to be.

She could feel Frank's eyes on her sometimes—okay, a lot of the time. She could hear the subtle shift in his voice when he spoke to her, the way his teasing banter always edged just a little closer to sincere when they were alone.

And she wasn’t blind; Frank Langdon was absurdly attractive. Even after a 15-hour shift when his scrubs were wrinkled and his hair was a mess, he somehow looked like he belonged on the cover of a medical drama poster.

And God, was he good at what he did. Watching Frank run a code was like watching art happen in real time—sharp, smooth, unflinching. He had a gift.

But she also knew his history. Everyone in the Pit did.

The divorce. The bitterness that had curled under his skin like smoke. The wild, reckless way he’d thrown himself into work afterward, like if he stayed busy enough, he wouldn’t have to think.

Y/N had spent too many nights nursing friends through breakups to not recognize the signs.

And she wasn’t about to be anyone's rebound—not even Frank Langdon's.

Even if her heart did stutter every time he flashed her that cocky, lopsided grin. Even if she found herself looking for excuses to team up with him on cases. Even if she felt safer with him in a trauma bay than almost anyone else.

Especially because of all that.

She was too stubborn to make the first move. Too scared of getting her heart broken into something small and unfixable.

So she played the game, smiled back, flirted when it felt safe—but always, always kept the line between them firmly drawn.

Even if she wanted to cross it more than anything.

It wasn’t until the accident came in that night, right before shift change, that Frank realized he was absolutely, irrevocably screwed.

"Mass casualty incoming," the charge nurse warned, sticking her head into the lounge where Frank and Y/N were both trying—and failing—to eat dinner. "Multi-car pileup on 76. Five patients at least. ETA three minutes."

Frank immediately shoved his food aside and rose. Y/N was already moving too, grabbing gloves and snapping them on with practiced ease. Their eyes met briefly, and Frank felt it—an electric charge sparking between them.

"You ready, partner?" he drawled, bumping his shoulder lightly against hers.

Y/N smirked. "Born ready, Langdon."

God help him.

The first ambulance screeched into the bay, and chaos bloomed like a stormcloud.

Frank and Y/N fell into a rhythm instantly, as they always did. Y/N took charge of a young woman with a chest wound while Frank handled a man with a broken femur and a possible spinal injury. Orders flew. Hands moved. The ER buzzed and roared around them, a living thing.

Frank could see Y/N out of the corner of his eye the whole time—focused, calm, impossibly beautiful under the harsh fluorescents. Her hair was tied back messily, tendrils falling around her face.

And she was the most breathtaking thing he had ever seen.

He almost missed the nurse asking him for a medication dosage.

"Uh—yeah. One milligram. Push," Frank barked, shaking himself. He could not afford to be distracted right now.

They stabilized their patients, pushed them off to CT and trauma surgery, and somehow—somehow—managed to get a breathing space. Frank peeled his gloves off with a snap, leaning against the wall to catch his breath.

Y/N slid down to sit beside him on the floor, legs stretched out in front of her.

"You good?" she asked, voice soft.

Frank turned his head and looked at her, really looked. At the exhaustion in her shoulders. The stubborn strength in her posture. The little curl of hair that had escaped her ponytail and clung damply to her temple.

God, he wanted to kiss her.

He wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt.

Instead, he said, "You were amazing in there."

Y/N smiled, a little bashful, a little amused. "You weren’t so bad yourself, Langdon."

Frank chuckled and leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. "Stick with me, kid. I’ll teach you all my tricks."

"You wish," Y/N shot back.

But she said it warmly, almost fondly.

Frank cracked one eye open and looked at her again, heart thudding against his ribs.

One of these days, he swore, he was going to stop being a coward and ask her out.

Just... not today.

||

The lull after the trauma surge lasted all of fifteen minutes.

Frank barely made it back to the lounge before being paged again, this time for a nasty lac to the forearm—a teenager who’d slid off a skateboard onto broken glass. Frank stitched quickly, his hands steady even though his brain was still half on Y/N, still replaying the way her fingers had brushed his wrist when she’d handed him a clamp in the trauma bay.

When he finally escaped again, it was to find Y/N sitting sideways on the worn leather couch, her socked feet tucked up under her, flipping through a dog-eared medical journal. A fresh bandage peeked out from beneath the sleeve of her scrub top.

He crossed the room before he could think better of it.

"You didn’t get that cleaned up properly," he said, nodding at her arm.

Y/N raised a brow. "It’s nothing. A scratch."

Frank gave her his best unimpressed doctor stare—the one that usually made med students wither.

"Sit still," he said, grabbing the basic wound care kit from the cabinet.

Y/N hesitated for a second, searching his face, and then—maybe to humor him—stuck her arm out.

Frank perched on the edge of the couch beside her, heart beating far too fast for a guy who'd been covered in other people’s blood less than an hour ago.

He cleaned the scratch carefully, too carefully, aware of every tiny shift of her muscles beneath his fingertips. She smelled faintly of antiseptic and soap, and something warmer underneath—something that was just her.

"You're being very dramatic about this, Dr. Langdon," Y/N teased, watching him work.

"You're my partner," Frank said, more gruffly than he meant to. "Can’t have you bleeding out in the middle of a code."

"How heroic," she said dryly, but there was a small smile playing around her lips.

Frank pressed a bandage gently onto her skin, then looked up—and realized how close they were. Barely a foot between them. He could see the faint spray of freckles across her nose. The glint of amusement in her eyes.

For one reckless second, he thought about leaning in.

Instead, he cleared his throat, dropped his hands into his lap, and said, "All patched up, doc. Try not to injure yourself again for at least an hour."

"Guess I'll try," Y/N said, laughing under her breath.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Frank thought maybe—maybe—he wasn't completely imagining the way she looked at him.

Later, Y/N leaned against the nurse’s station, charting on a patient, when Dana sidled up to her with a knowing smirk.

"You know he's basically in love with you, right?"

Y/N didn’t look up. "Who?"

Dana snorted. "Langdon. Dr. Broody over there."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm, but kept her voice even. "He's like that with everyone."

"Uh-huh," Dana said skeptically. "Sure. He totally volunteers to clean people’s wounds at random. Super normal."

Y/N tapped the tablet harder than necessary, trying to ignore the way her heart skipped in her chest.

"Anyway," Dana went on, "the entire ER has a betting pool on when he’ll grow a pair and ask you out."

Y/N's head shot up. "You're joking."

"Dead serious. Robby’s got fifty bucks on you two hooking up by Halloween."

Y/N opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it, though?" Dana wiggled her eyebrows. "You like him too. Don't even try to deny it."

Y/N shook her head, laughing nervously. "Even if I did—which I'm not saying I do—it's complicated."

"Life’s complicated," Dana said cheerfully, then wandered off to help a patient who was throwing up in bay three.

Y/N stood frozen for a moment, her heart thundering in her ears.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew what she felt for Frank wasn’t casual. She knew that the part of her that held back—the cautious, wounded part—was getting harder and harder to listen to.

But if she fell for Frank Langdon, really fell? She wasn’t sure she could survive it if he broke her heart.

And God, she would fall. She was already halfway there.

It got worse when another trauma rolled in an hour later.

An elderly woman with a head bleed, confused and combative. Frank jumped into action, voice calm but commanding, and Y/N found herself standing beside him almost instinctively, reading off vitals and helping to restrain the patient gently but firmly.

At one point, Frank looked up at her, and the world narrowed to just the two of them.

"You good?" he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.

Y/N nodded, feeling breathless.

Frank’s hand brushed hers briefly as he reached for a clamp. The touch was featherlight, accidental—and yet she felt it like an electric shock all the way to her bones.

They worked seamlessly, saving the woman’s life with a coordinated dance that didn’t need words.

When it was over, when the patient was safely whisked upstairs to neurosurgery, Frank turned to her with a grin that made her knees weak.

"You’re a damn rock star, you know that?" he said.

Y/N laughed shakily. "Coming from you, that's high praise."

Frank’s grin softened into something else—something almost tender.

"I mean it," he said, voice rough. "I’d trust you with my life."

Y/N’s heart twisted.

And she realized—maybe he was already trusting her with it.

Maybe he was just as scared as she was.

Back in the break room, Frank slumped onto the couch, scrubbing his hands over his face.

He couldn’t keep doing this. Couldn’t keep orbiting her like a satellite too scared to land.

Every part of him wanted her. Needed her. Not in the reckless, self-destructive way he’d used to need people, but in a way that felt terrifyingly real.

And if he didn’t tell her soon, he was going to lose his damn mind.

||

The next shift was somehow even worse.

Frank had never been this distracted in his life.

He nearly forgot to sign a trauma note, practically ignored the med students. Robby caught him staring into space during a chart review and gave him a look that screamed, get your shit together, man.

Frank knew exactly what the problem was.

Y/N.

Y/N, standing three feet away in her black scrubs that maybe Frank thought fit her too well. Y/N, tucking a pencil behind her ear, and making Frank want to do completely inappropriate things in the supply closet. Y/N, being brilliant and fierce and so far out of his reach it physically hurt.

And the worst part—the absolute worst part—was that he could feel the wall between them cracking.

She looked at him differently now. He could see it in the way her eyes lingered, the way her smile faltered sometimes, like she was trying to stop herself from doing something reckless.

He had to do something. Had to say something.

Or he was going to lose her before he ever really had her.

Meanwhile, Y/N wasn't faring much better.

Every time Frank laughed, every time he teased her with that crooked smile and that infuriating wink, she felt herself sliding closer to the edge.

She was tired of fighting it.

Tired of pretending she didn’t want him.

But still—still—fear gnawed at her.

What if he wasn’t ready? What if this was just loneliness, desperation, looking for an easy out?

She couldn’t survive being another casualty in Frank Langdon’s messy post-divorce world.

And she couldn’t survive losing him as a friend, either.

So she waited. And watched. And hoped he’d make the first move.

It was nearly seven in the evening after a long shift, when Frank decided, screw it.

He found her in the back hallway, fiddling with the vending machine, trying to coax a granola bar loose.

"Come on, you stupid piece of shit," Y/N muttered, whacking the side of the machine.

Frank leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching her with a fond smirk.

"You know, if you wanted a snack that bad, you could’ve just asked me," he said.

Y/N jumped slightly, then rolled her eyes. "I’m fine, thanks."

Frank pushed off the wall and wandered closer, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He felt about a hundred years old and fifteen again all at once.

"You’re not fine," he said lightly. "You’re hangry. It’s a public health emergency."

Y/N laughed despite herself. "You’re impossible."

Frank took a breath. Now or never.

"I was wondering," he said, casual, too casual, "if maybe you wanted to grab dinner sometime."

Y/N blinked. "We grab dinner all the time. Cafeteria food doesn’t count."

"No, I mean—" Frank faltered, scrubbed a hand through his hair. God, he was bad at this. "Like. Real dinner. Plates and silverware. Maybe even something that costs more than five bucks."

He risked a glance at her.

Y/N was staring at him, wide-eyed, like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.

Frank’s stomach twisted. Had he just made a huge mistake?

"Like a date?" she said slowly.

Frank swallowed. His throat was dry as hell.

"Yeah," he said roughly. "Like a date."

The silence stretched between them.

Frank wanted to crawl under the vending machine and die.

Finally—finally—Y/N smiled. Soft. Shy. Beautiful.

"You’re serious," she said, almost wonderingly.

Frank stepped closer. "I’ve been serious for a long time," he said quietly. "Just too much of an idiot to say anything."

Y/N's lips parted slightly, like she was about to say something—and then she shook her head, laughing a little under her breath.

"You’re ridiculous," she said.

"And yet," Frank said, grinning now, "you’re still here."

Y/N hesitated for a heartbeat longer—then reached out and poked him lightly in the chest.

"One date," she said, mock-stern.

Frank caught her hand in his gently, holding it for a second longer than necessary.

"I’ll behave," he promised, voice low and sincere. "Scout’s honor."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. A real smile. One that made something warm and unbreakable light up in Frank’s chest.

“Promise me, this isn’t because of the divorce. You actually want to pursue this and not some mid-life crisis.” Y/N spoke softly.

Frank looked down at her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I promise. I want you Y/N.” He said.

"Okay, Langdon," she said. "You’re on."

Frank grinned like an idiot.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt exactly right.

They didn’t kiss. Not yet.

Frank figured he could wait.

After all, he’d already waited this long.

What was a little longer, for something—someone—that might just be worth everything?

[amiableness]

Hockey!James Potter x Lupin!Reader ❆ 980 words | it's been forever since i posted, hope you all enjoy this <3

series masterlist ; main masterlist

James Potter took his birthday seriously—it always had to be loud, chaotic, and completely unforgettable. It suited him. But this year was different. No plans to fly somewhere warm and throw a beachside party, no talk of renting out an entire pub for the night—nothing. 

Just a quiet night at a local pub with his closest friends—nothing more. When Remus and Sirius heard about the lack of celebration, Sirius’ shoulders slumped in dramatic disappointment. He’d already laid out his suitcase, half-packed and ready to jet off to wherever James decided to party this year. Remus, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as dismayed. If anything, he was relieved. Traveling meant leaving you alone, which he was never fond of—and worse, it usually meant playing designated caretaker while the others drank themselves into oblivion.

Being James’ closest friends meant they fully expected him to change his mind. Any day now, he’d come bursting into their shared house, grinning like a madman, rambling about the last-minute trip he’d just booked—or the outrageous party he’d suddenly thrown together.

But none of that happens. And even now, as they sit in a perfectly average pub, Remus and Sirius keep one eye on James, still half-expecting him to announce some last-minute twist. But he doesn’t. He hardly smiles a real smile all night, nursing his beer and casting hopeful glances toward the door—like he’s waiting for something, or someone.

“Mate,” Sirius slaps his hand down on the bar beside Remus, startling him as he waits for his drink. Remus glances over at a rosy-cheeked Sirius, who’s pointing toward James with his drink in hand, as if he couldn’t tell exactly who he’s talking about. Any mention of you always seemed to loop back to James. “Did he invite your sister?”

“Very likely. He probably chatted her up at practice and slipped it in casually,” Remus replies, arching an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Is she coming?” Sirius presses, leaning forward with a hint of urgency in his voice.

Remus snorts. “She’s probably at home reading some romance book.”

Sirius frowns, nodding towards the phone he knows is tucked away in his pocket. “Call her. Right now.”

“Why?” Remus raises an eyebrow. 

“Because, look at that miserable bastard!” Sirius bursts out, his voice carrying across the pub and catching the attention of a group of girls sitting a few seats down. Remus flashes them an apologetic, embarrassed smile.. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off the door all night. I hate to admit it, but this night’s a total bust.”

Remus raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “So, you want me to call her so you can have a better night?”

Sirius glares at him, unamused. “No, I want you to call her so he can have a better night. Also, I didn’t get him a birthday present, and I’m pretty sure this would top whatever you all managed to get him.”

Remus glances over at James, and sure enough, he’s nursing his drink, his eyes flicking toward the door before quickly returning to the curly-haired girl in front of him. She seems completely unaware of his wandering gaze, but James, on the other hand, looks entirely disengaged from the conversation. It’s clear to Remus that Sirius is right—if you were here, James’s attention would be entirely on you. There wouldn’t be any doubt about whether or not he was enjoying his birthday.

Remus exhales a soft sigh, grabbing his phone and standing up. Sirius claps him on the back with a grin, muttering praises about making the right call.

You don’t take nearly as long to show up as Remus expected, leaving him wondering if you were already ready for James’s birthday but didn’t quite have the courage to show. His gaze lingers on the soft hue of lipstick glossing your lips, then dips to the denim skirt he’s certain he’s never seen you wear. An amused smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, slow and knowing.

“That didn’t take you long.” He comments casually. You shoot him a sharp glare, pure annoyance as you take the drink from Sirius’s outstretched hand. He ushers you along with a grin, clearly pleased by your arrival.

“I can’t stay long—” Remus hears you start to protest, your voice trailing off as Sirius pulls you through the crowd, undeterred. There’s a slight wince on your face when he cups a hand around his mouth and shouts, “Oi, James! Got your birthday present, mate!”

A few of their teammates whistle, exchanging knowing grins as their eyes land on you—well aware of James’s long-standing, schoolboy crush. Remus watches your expression shift somewhere between mortified and amused, but you let Sirius lead you on anyway. 

James turns away from the girl mid-sentence, a confused frown flickering across his face—only to melt into a grin the moment he sees you. He doesn’t hesitate, weaving through the crowd like nothing else exists. Remus can’t hear what he says, but he doesn’t need to. He knows James greets you with that soft, honeyed “angel”—a tone he reserves for no one else.

Remus has heard it a thousand times, but only when James is talking to you.

He makes a mental note to ask him about it later, but it’s obvious to him now that James kept things simple this year, just in case you decided to show up. There was no way you’d have gone along with the kind of wild birthdays he'd thrown in the past.

And for someone who insisted they weren’t staying long—who told Remus to fuck off, I’m busy when he first asked—you don’t exactly look eager to leave. There’s a soft smile tugging at your lips as you tilt your head up to meet James’s eyes, like you forgot what excuse you’d made in the first place.

Remus knows without a doubt that Sirius did win best present.

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please please pleasae consider reblogging and/or commenting. it keeps me motivated to continue writing and reblogging spreads it to others <3

[fireinmoonshot]

home safe | joaquín torres x fem!reader

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: Joaquín's friends call you to come and pick him up after a night out at the bar where he can't stop talking about you. Warnings: Mentions of drinking, being drunk and alcohol. Word Count: 1.5k A/N: I saw a TikTok where a golden retriever boyfriend got so excited when he saw his girlfriend turn up at the bar and my first thought was 'That's so Joaquín' so here this is 😂 Enjoy 💗

Making the most of a rare Friday night alone, you’re about to crack open a new tub of ice cream when your phone buzzes on the counter beside you. With a sigh, you set down the spoon you’d been planning on digging into the ice cream with, and pick up your phone to read the message.

You assume that it’s going to be from Joaquin. He’d gone out to attend the Bachelor Party of one of his best friends, leaving you home alone. He hated to go – he’d said at least twenty times that he wished you could come with him, but he understood that you needed time apart and that it was crucial to a healthy relationship to do things alone. But regardless, he always felt like something was missing when you weren’t there.

He’d also assured you that when he was ready to come home, he’d send you a text so that you could come and pick him up. He’d promised he wouldn’t stay too late, knowing that you would want to try and get a good night sleep as usual and he didn’t want you to have to go to bed without him. With Joaquin, you knew you could trust his word on that.

As you look at your phone, though, you’re surprised to see that the message isn’t from Joaquin, but from Eddie, one of his friends who was also attending the Bachelor Party.

Joaquin is ready when you are… seriously… save us…

You laugh a little as you read his message and quickly type out a reply. I’m almost tempted to leave you guys to deal with him for even longer. But I’ll head out shortly :) 

A little disappointed, you move to put the ice cream back in the freezer. It was going to have to wait until another night now. There’s only one reason why Eddie would be texting you – Joaquin had had too many drinks and was being his usual drunken self, somehow more extroverted than he already was. If anyone thought Joaquin couldn’t shut up when he was sober, then they’d never seen him drunk.

It doesn’t take you too long to get your things together and leave the house. You’ve changed out of your comfy clothes and put on something semi-presentable, knowing you’ll likely have to go inside the bar to bring your boyfriend out, and are in the car on your way towards the bar not long after. 

You send Eddie a text as you walk towards the bar. Whereabouts are you guys?

He surprisingly doesn’t take too long to reply. I’ll come to the front door and get you so you don’t get lost. It’s pretty packed in here. You’d probably hear us before you saw us.

You snort at his message, knowing it’s true, and head into the bar. Eddie is right – the bar is bustling, as expected for a Friday night. There are people everywhere, music pumping through the speakers and you wonder how anyone could have an enjoyable time here without wearing some pretty serious earplugs.

Someone calls out your name and you turn to see Eddie, standing not too far away from you. He beckons you over with a smile and then greets you with a quick hug. All of Joaquin’s friends love you and consider you as much of a friend to them as he is.

“Thanks for coming so fast,” Eddie says as the two of you start to walk back to where he’d come from. “Joaquin… he seriously has not shut up about you since we got here. You’d think that he was the one getting married instead of Mateo.”

You smile to yourself at the thought. “I mean, as far as I’m aware, we’re not,” you say, amused. “I’m sure that it’s just the alcohol though. You and I both know how he gets.”

Eddie laughs. “He hasn’t even had that much to drink compared to some of us.”

As you get closer towards the table where the rest of the group are, you can hear their laughter and loud voices just as Eddie had said. You hear Joaquin’s laugh and instantly smile as you finally lay eyes on him. His cheeks are a little flushed from the alcohol and the smile on his face sets butterflies off in your stomach. 

You can see when he spots you in the crowd just from the way his eyes light up. His jaw drops and then morphs into a grin that takes over his entire face. “Angel!” Joaquin’s voice is loud, impressively so. Despite the loud music, several people turn their heads to look at him.

Before you can even take one more step closer to him, Joaquin is up and away from the booth, running towards you and barrelling straight into you. He picks you up, spinning you around in a circle as you laugh. You’re pretty sure he’s never been happier to see you.

“Angel, what are you doing here?” He exclaims, setting you down on the ground again. 

You laugh, resting your arms over his shoulders. “I was requested to come and pick you up,” you say, meeting Eddie’s eyes. “Apparently my boyfriend couldn’t stop talking about me? And I’m pretty sure Mateo is the one who’s meant to be talking about his girlfriend all night instead of you, baby.”

Joaquin looks over his shoulder at his friends. “You guys called in reinforcement?” He says, pretending to be shocked as if he’s not extremely happy to see you. “Listen, Mateo has been talking plenty about his soon to be wife so I figured it was only fair I add in my share.”

Over at the booth, you hear Mateo snort. “I’ve heard you say your girl’s name so many more times than I’ve said mine, Joaquin,” he calls. “Thanks for coming to save us, by the way. We love spending time with your man but I think he loves you more.” His voice is amused.

“You’re so welcome,” you call back. 

Joaquin moves to stand beside you, but he still wraps an arm around your waist, becoming his touchy self again now that you’re here. You’re surprised to see that he isn’t actually as drunk as you had been expecting. Clearly, though, the few drinks he had consumed had made him insufferable enough to his friends.

“Are you guys kicking me out or something?” Joaquin says beside you, pouting a little as he looks over at his friends. “Man, I thought we were having a good night. It’s not even midnight yet!” 

Not that he’s disappointed at the fact that this means he can go home and spend the rest of the night curled up in bed with you… in fact, out of the two scenarios that one is definitely the better sounding one.

“Nah, bro,” Eddie shakes his head. “I’m heading out too, so are a few of us. I just got a text from my girl and she’s waiting for me in the car outside. I promised her I wouldn’t stay out too late. She finds it harder to sleep without me now that she’s pregnant, apparently.”

The simple confirmation that Joaquin isn’t the only one leaving is enough to perk his mood right back up. He leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek. “I’m just gonna go say bye to the guys and then we can go.” 

You nod, watching him as he heads over to say his goodbyes to everyone and send his well wishes to Mateo, since it’s the last time he’s going to see him before the wedding. It doesn’t take long, though, and soon enough he’s walking back over to you and taking your hand in his. All the boys yell their goodbyes to you as Joaquin leads you out of the bar.

Joaquin keeps hold of your hand while you leave the packed bar. He doesn’t let go even when you’re safely outside, happily trailing along behind you as you lead him over to where your car is parked.

“You know, when I saw you walk in tonight I was a little distracted,” Joaquin says as you stop beside the car and reach into your bag to get your keys out. “Mateo had just said somethin’ real funny and then I looked over and saw you and at first, I thought it couldn’t be you cause I knew you were at home. I just saw you and thought ‘Damn, that girl looks so much like my beautiful girlfriend.’”

“And then you realised it was me and basically jumped on me,” You chuckle, amused as you find the keys and unlock the car.

Joaquin places a hand on your hip. “Can you blame me for that, angel?”

You turn around and lean in to gently peck him on the lips. “I can’t,” you hum. “Now come on, it’s time to get you home and sober you up a bit.”

He smiles and leans in to open the car door for you. He might be a little drunk but he’s still a gentleman who can open the car door for his girlfriend. Once he’s inside, he rests a hand on your thigh as you pull away from the curb and head for home.

“Thanks for coming to get me, angel. Even if it kinda ruined your night alone.”

You glance over at him briefly to give him a reassuring smile. “Knowing that you’re coming home safe matters more to me than spending the rest of my night alone, baby.” 

[leth-writes]

Twilight wolf pack x small!reader (like idk five feet tall?) :>

Of course!

Jacob is 6’7”

Embry is 6’4”

Seth is almost 6’0”

Quil is just over 6’0”

Sam is 6’6”

In my headcanons paul is 6’5”

Sam

Sam is stated to be 6’6” in the books, which is the resource I’m using for these headcanons.

Sam already feels like a monster, so having such a small imprint definitely makes him feel worse. He really struggles with being around you, completely out of fear of hurting you. He has nightmares about hurting you and you never talking to him again, and he wouldn’t blame you.

Loves cuddling together. It’s some of the only times he doesn’t have to lean down so far it hurts his neck.

Finds you adorable. 

Please convince him he isn’t a monster. 

Paul

Paul doesn’t have a canonical height, so I’m just going to say he’s 6’5”. I feel this in my bones, that is his height. No one can convince me otherwise.

Loves, absolutely adores, how short you are. Spends most of his time cuddling up to you and picking you up, throwing you over his shoulder. Loves picking you up to make out. 

Calls you his teddy bear. If you listen closely, you can hear Quil fake-puking in the background.

Jacob

Jacob is 6’7”. He’s the tallest of all of the wolves. 

He really enjoys your height difference. It makes him feel like he can protect you, and he enjoys seeing the way you can just… hide behind him. It makes him feel better, less like a monster, because he can be there for you. He won’t let anything happen to you.

It’s really hard to show affection, considering he’s both a more reserved person and he’s almost 2 feet taller than you. Loves throwing an arm over your shoulder.

Also loves knowing that no one will mess with you, he gives you that safety through being so intimidating to the creeps of the world.

Quil

He’s 6’4”. Teases you relentlessly. Still loves picking you up and swinging you around in a giant bear hug. 

Loves giving you hickies, just to remind everyone that even if he isn’t there you’ve still got a protective boyfriend ready to mess up anyone who even says something slightly nasty. No one will even try.

Embry

I can’t imagine him viewing you all that different.

Seth

Seth often forgets that he is taller than you. It doesn’t help that he’s the shortest of the pack, and most of the others are over 6’0”. It definitely means that he doesn’t understand how tall he actually is; if you asked him, he’d probably say he’s like 5’6”.

Just remind him how tall he actually is, and that you’re still quite short. He’ll feel bad. Always leans down to kiss you, doesn’t want you to hurt your neck.

[st7rnioioss]

Idk if you’re still wanting request but if so I was thinking about tutor!Matt and bratty!reader, where Matt is having a long and exhausting day but bratty reader eventually notices during tutoring. So she takes him to her dorm and helps him feel better and it turns into ykkk…😏😏 ily😋

STRESS RELIEVER

⋆ ˚ .ೃ ࿔ * pairing... tutor!matt x bratty!reader

𓂃 ֹ ᮫ in which... tutor!matt is stressed, and burnt out after a long week of pressuring himself to his max, until he finally breaks. but bratty!reader is here to help him.

warnings... smut, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, sub!matt, pet names (matty, baby, puppy, good boy.)

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟ the repeated clicking of matt’s pen filled the silence that had settled between the two of you, the tension somewhat thick. his tutoring had been half-assed, something you never saw with matt—he was very serious about his and your studies. he doesn’t even look at you, holding his head up with his palm, staring down at the empty notebook in front of him as if he was trying to settle his thoughts, like they were racing. your own notes are long forgotten as well, gazing at matt as if you were trying to figure him out—figure out what was bothering him. he looked like a goddamn kicked puppy the few times you got to peek a glimpse of his face, and it made your heart soar.

at first, you decide not to say anything. maybe he was focused, and didn’t want any interruptions. so all you do is glue your eyes onto him, and the way his hair falls down in front of his eyes to shield them from you, his glasses teetering on the bridge of his nose, close to slipping off his face if it hadn’t been for his ears. eventually, the clicking of his pen starts to piss you off, so you grab it from between his fingers, almost desperate to get his attention.

“what-“ he squeaks, finally lifting his head to meet your eyes for what felt like the first time since you had spoken just this morning. you stare, searching his face for any hints of what the hell was going on inside his usually pretty smart head—one he wasn’t using right now. “stop clicking your pen, s’annoying.” matt replied by rolling his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

again, you stare observantly at him, tilting your head to the side in plain curiosity when he drags his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes while his glasses scooted up his forehead. they plonk back in place when he lets go, pushing them up his nose. “what’s wrong, matt? you seem off.” you mumbled, only earning a whine from him. yeah, something was off. “hey- it’s fine, let’s just go. we’ll study later, it’s okay matt.” you help him pack up his things, before packing up your own. it takes a second for his head to register what you were doing, and what you had just said, before he decides to help with a long sigh.

you quickly make your way around the table, leaning down to press a soft but firm kiss to his cheek, running a hand through his hair slowly. he almost immediately leans into the touch like a puppy, responding eagerly to your touch. “it’s okay, we’ll take a break, matty.” you coo, taking his hands in yours to drag him up his chair and out the library.

the walk to your dorm was silent. matt’s fingers are laced between your own, your shoulders occasionally touching from just how close he was walking next to you, as if you’d disintegrate if he didn’t hold tightly enough onto you, or stand close enough. you didn’t dare say a word—it was easy to see the amount of bottled up emotions and feelings he had kept inside, safe and sound, that if you said anything he’d break down. you wouldn’t want that for him, not in the middle of campus.

“tell me, please. what’s going on in your head, baby? i’ll listen,” you had your legs on either side of matt’s thighs, cradling him close to your chest as you whispered while soothingly playing with his hair. matt wasn’t exactly sure what was going on in his head either, but stress and exhaustion was probably a good guess. “i-i dunno, m’just..” he trailed off, snaking his arms around your waist to push himself ever closer to you, feeling the warm tears starting to sting in his eyes. he really didn’t want to cry—it was probably the last thing he wanted to do. “i’m so stressed. and i’m tired, and- and exhausted all the time. today was just a really shitty day.” his voice broke, attempting to keep the tears from spilling over his waterline.

your heart was aching for him, carefully cupping his face in your hands to tilt his head up from your chest. “oh, poor thing. can i help?” you whispered, your voice firm but as soft as satin. gently, you traced your fingers over his cheek, giving him a soft smile before peppering a few kisses along his jaw. he weakly shrugged, acting almost helpless at coming up with any ideas, just wanting the turmoil of thoughts and the weight of the week to stop.

“yeah.. sure. i just dunno know how,” his voice was still timid and shy, but this time he managed to bite the tears back. “just relax..” he gazed up at you with a quizzical look, almost as if he was waiting for you to make a move—and you did. before either of you said another word, your lips met his in a slow, and comfortable dance. his fingers instinctively went to grasp for your shirt to steady himself as you looped your arms around the back of his neck, twirling your fingers through his hair.

every bit of your attention, and touch was enough to ease his mind a little, even the simplest kiss shutting his uncontrolled pondering up. “wanna help you, matty.. help you- help you destress,” you mumbled between kisses, pulling him closer to you by his brown, and soft curls. matt whimpered into the kiss, eventually giving up on matching the pace of the kiss, and allowing you to take over. “let me take care of you, baby.” you muttered, detaching your swollen and pink lips from his to kiss him down his jaw, and further down the column of his neck.

pulling back, you patiently started unbuttoning his shirt while smiling down at his lovestruck face, his lips tinted a soft red from your lipgloss. eventually, matt was left in his open button shirt, your knees now digging into the floor to work on his belt. there was silence, the metal clanging the only thing that could be heard, along with matt’s heavy breaths. “y’know.. i’ll always be here to help, yeah? if you’re stressed, let me know.” you leaned forward to kiss him down his chest, and stomach, all while fumbling with his pants.

matt’s cheeks and ears were beet red, going a bit flustered at your words, and just how willing you were to help him out. “o-okay.. i will.” he chirped, his hand messing through your hair while you kissed him down his stomach, and finally maneuvered his pants down.

you pulled away from his body to look up at him, your eyes round, and big, and it caused matt to go even more shy—you were waiting with bated breath to get to his cock, and it showed. keeping your eyes on his, your fingers snaked under the elastic band of his boxers, plucking them down his thighs. your attention was immediately turned to his cock that sprung out right away, already hard, his tip beading with precum. when his boxers were pooling around his ankles you took your time to gently wrap a hand around his dick, that barely fit when you tried closing your hand. “you’ve got such a pretty cock, matt..” your tantalizing words sent him into a spiral, letting out a deep groan.

a giggle left your lips, slowly giving his girth a couple tugs. “yeah? gonna take such good care of you..” your thumb delicately rubbed across his slit, smearing the sticky precum that was trickling, and glistening all over. “p-please.. can’t take it anymore, i need it-“ he was panting, his chest heaving frantically while his body was begging for your touch. his fingers tightened in your hair, but not to the point it hurt in the slightest. “i will, i will. you deserve it, puppy. you’ve been a good boy, yeah? i’ll give it to you,” you left the words to linger in the air before your lips pecked quick kisses to his leaking, pink tip.

swirling your tongue around his cockhead, matt threw his head back, and squeezed his eyes shut with a low moan. his reaction only motivated you to keep going, to keep hearing more of those angelic whines and cries. your hand started pumping his cock while you tried to take as much as him as you could manage, your eyes watering when you gagged around him. matt was in a total state of bliss, your warm and wet mouth working on him making all his worries disappear.

slowly you started to bob your head, the drool and saliva that seeped past your lips making it a little easier. “o-oh, my g-god. please don’t stop,” he whined, pushing your head a little further down, making the very tip of his cock hit the back of your throat.

your eyes were watering uncontrollably, gagging and sputtering around his length, but you didn’t stop. matt was trying his best not to jerk his hips forward, the sweet moans being pulled from his parted lips over and over again. “g-gosh, feels so good.. you’re doing s’well..” he gently tucked your tousled hair behind your ears; the action combined with his words making you want to stay here, in this position, forever, despite how uncomfortable it was.

saliva was running down your chin, your mouth and hand working together to bring him to the edge, which was approaching rapidly—matt’s whines, and moans grew in pitch, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull when you pulled back to catch a breath, your lips still connected to his sensitive, and red tip. “gonna cum- please, i- i need to cum, please don’t stop.” his voice was whiny, the words hurried and almost incomprehensible. he was despairing, the weight finally lifted off his shoulders, and now he needed to cum—he wanted it so badly. “fuck! i love you, i love you so much.”

by now your lips were slick, and swollen, the wet noises making the room feel even hotter. matt’s cock was throbbing, his breath hitching with every inhale, his chest glistening with a sheen layer of sweat. “mmphh- g’nna cum-,” he finally let go, balling a fistful of hair up in his hand as the warm, white ropes of his cum shot down your throat. he fell completely apart with a guttural groan, the dam in his lower stomach finally bursting.

a mix of tears, spit, and matt’s release was trickling down your cheeks and chin when you opened your mouth to show him it was all swallowed, and matt swore he was hard again from just the sight of you. “y’feel any better?” you smirked when matt looked down at you with pink cheeks, and a sweaty forehead, pushing his glasses back up. he nodded meekly, not saying a word because he knew he’d fuck up and embarrass himself, thoughtfully brushing your hair back in place. “good.” you reached for a tissue on top of your nightstand, wiping the remains of his cum and your spit off your lips.

“i-i wanna make you feel good too..” matt’s words cut through the silence, making your ears perk up. “why? i mean- you don’t have to. this was for you, matt. you don’t need to return it.” matt shook his head, soothingly cradling your face in his hands, still between his legs. “no.. i want to. please.” he basically begged you, motioning for you to stand back up, pulling you into his lap.

not even a minute later, your skirt and panties were stripped off, teasing matt by dragging his tip along your soppy folds, but not quite pushing it in yet. a weak moan fell from your lips when your clit made contact with the head of his dick, before matt had enough. “please, i can’t take it. jus’ wanna feel you, i’m begging.” you tsked, your free hand tilting his head upwards, gazing at him through his round frames. “be a good boy, matt.. i’ll give you what you want.” your voice was smooth, and you knew just what to say in order to make his mind start whirling.

soon enough you got impatient too, your cunt pulsing around his stretch when you sank down on him, your breath hitching on a soft moan, his cock stretching you open. “holy shit.. you’re so tight- i-“ he whimpered your name, his blunt fingernails pressing into your hips. when you got comfortable in his lap you looped both your arms around his neck, deliberately swirling your hips in a circle lotion. “so big, matt.. fillin’ me allll the way up.” he shivered when you spoke, your plump lips that were curled up in a smirk hovering just above his.

setting a slow pace, you rolled your hips into his, his girth massaging your inner walls, while you pressed a small kiss to his lips. the soft, and whiny noises you two let out were swallowed by the kiss, your mind going blank when his tip prodded and made friends with your mushy, sweet spot. “m’not gonna last long.. oh, my god.” matt was hypnotized by the sight of you on top of him when he pulled back, your lips parted, and eyes rolled back as you sped up your pace, your moist bodies moving together. “s’okay.. me neither, puppy.” you shuddered, the sound of flesh smacking against flesh starting to fill the air of your room, along with the wet sounds his cock elicited from your drooling pussy.

you pulled him back in for a searing kiss, whimpering breathlessly into his mouth when your clit rubbed against his pelvis so deliciously you couldn’t help but grip tightly onto his curls. “fuck! i love you so much, matt.” you whimpered against his lips, your breaths mingling together, ragged and irregular. “mpph- i love you too,” he whined when he felt you clench around him, your movements turning sloppy, and weak.

“g-gonna cum,” matt nodded, his head feeling fuzzy, and light—he was going completely dumb, barely thinking with his mouth agape. suddenly, with a loud of cry of his name, your walls fluttering around his length, stars blurring your vision while a ring formed around the base of your cock. “j-just like that- good boy..”.

your skin was prickling, and flushed when matt helped you ride out your high so you didn’t have to do much work, his tip throbbing with need before he spilled himself once more, painting your insides white with his sticky semen while his eyes glossed over.

you slumped against him, and matt embraced you tightly while you both caught your breath, trying to regulate it. he slowly leaned back onto the mattress, keeping your warm and sweaty bodies close, though it felt icky. “was that okay? how’s your head?” you mumbled, your head dipping up to look down at him with a dazed smile, running a finger along the underside of his jaw. “i think it’s worse.. i can’t think straight,” he shyly smiled back at you, relishing the feeling of being so, so close to you, his cock still nestled inside your warm, soppy cunt.

more tutor!matt x bratty!reader here!

˚𝜗𝜚 notes... this sums up the two sides to tutor!matt pretty well lol.

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❛❛ © 𝐒𝐓𝟕𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟐���𝟐𝟑 ❜❜

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 6

Enjoy Chapter 6! Ch8 will be a look into what has been happening in Ghotam and Ch9 will probably follow the first episode of Invincible.

We're slowly approaching the main timeline age, so if ya'll want a specific character to make an appearance or would like to see a specific plot line this is your time to speak now or forever remain silent /j

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 6 >>next

He is crazy- he can’t just- He-!

You couldn’t even know where to begin telling what happened. One moment you were relaxing, enjoying the sun, living the dream- and then this old, 6 feet and 2 inches of pure muscle, alien-man thing just up and kidnaps you. Omni-Man kidnapped you with a simple “Hello, kid. Let’s go home.” You were more shocked than angry, to be honest, the man was just spewing nonsense as he flew you across the states.

Now, Nolan wouldn’t call it kidnapping- why, he’d never! He was just- cleaning up the streets, helping a homeless kid, even though he knew where she lived- it was adopting without all the other steps!

He was meticulous in his watching, not stalking, but watching, observing. When Cecil first called him, bringing to his attention a mysterious flying person coming and going from NYC, he was ready for a villain, an alien preparing to overtake NYC, anything but a tween kid shakily flying, almost hitting buildings and nearly being taken down by other flying heroes.

He knew she was no threat; he told Cecil as much- but he kept coming back. Something kept making him come back, just to look, to make sure she didn’t hurt herself or others- he kept telling himself. He knew deep inside why he came back every day for a year, it was the same reason why he married Debbie, it was the same reason why he couldn’t bring himself to hate his son.

Sure, she was living well, but the food she ate, if she remembered to, wasn’t sustainable, she needed home-cooked food, she needed socializing and training, she needed- she needed a family and stability. Nolan took the initiative to pack her bags and everything in her little apartment and move her into his and Debbie’s house, in the room next to Mark’s. And then, he took her.

You didn’t put up much of a fight if one at all, but really what could you say or do when Omi-Man has deemed you his and his wife’s kid, the man spoke of her highly, his son too, but still- He kidnapped you, you wouldn’t just stay- “And Debbie is making this roast beef with baked potatoes-“…

Some would call you weak, others would say you can be easily bought, but this was the greatest roast beef you had tasted in a long while. “This is amazing food, Mrs. Grayson.” You could play along for a while. The woman just smiled and thanked you, insisting on you calling her Debbie. The offer of ice cream made you sure you could play along for a long while.

She wasn’t initially happy with Nolan coming with a random kid under his arm, but one look at your disheveled appearance and wide eyes made her rethink everything. A daughter wouldn’t hurt, two kids would make the house happier, and you reminded her of those scuffed up little kittens, she didn’t have it in her to let you go without a meal at least.

Over dinner, you answered every question they threw at you, from your name to Mark asking if you like comics, but when they asked your age, you just shrugged. “Around 13-14? Can’t quite remember, I haven’t celebrated my birthday ever, mom just told me how old I was and then-“ Your body went rigid.

You were telling too much, getting too comfortable- but, maybe this was your chance at a true family. Can’t back down now, you could always just leave if you really wanted. The two adults understood as soon as you tensed up, Debbie immediately acting as her hand soothingly rubbed at your shoulder and back while they let you decide whether to continue or change the subject. “She died when I was five.”

She smiled at you softly, apologizing for prying and giving their condolences, something not even Alfred did. All Nolan saw was an opportunity to grab you and never let go, to give you what the father that clearly wasn’t in the picture never gave.

Mark just grabbed your wrist, a sad frown on his face. “I can share my parent with you. I know I’d be sad if mom or dad were gone. We can be siblings!” His bright smile was contagious, making you smile just as bright before your hopeful eyes met Debbie’s. She was sold a while back, as soon as you called her pretty while calling Nolan a bum and asking how she had the misfortune of marrying a brute, making the man grumble as he sat you on the couch, your hopeful glance just set it in stone.

Despite having a room all to yourself, you wanted to push. They were different to the Waynes, that was clear. They were warmer, talked to you, and it all felt so much better. So, you wanted to test the water by asking Mark if he’d be willing to share his bedroom with you tonight, not wanting to be alone. Not when you had the opportunity to soak in any attention they give you.

The boy was excited to have a sleepover in his room, eager to show you all the comics and toys he had- and neither Debbie nor Nolan could say no. Not to two pairs of puppy eyes. The adults were sure this weakness to saying no wouldn’t last… Hopefully.

Spending the night with Mark was amazing, it was everything you thought Dick and the other would give you. He showed you all his comics, letting you read all of them, and as the night settled and the stars were high in the sky you taught him about them. In the end, you both fell asleep in the pillow fort you made, comic books lying open around you. Your plans of escape quickly went out the window, this family thing with them felt like it was worth trying. You liked NYC, but maybe Chicago is where you belonged. And if the adults heard you two giggle and fuss around all night, they didn’t say anything.

By next week you were a Grayson, thanks to Cecil’s string-pulling. Looks like Nolan knew exactly what to say to make the man agree.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple

my greatest fear is misspelling a name and tagging someone who has never seen this 🫠

[tetzoro]

FATED REUNIONS — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. portgas d. ace !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : after a month apart, ace comes home to you and drowns you in his endless love.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering, use of pet names (princess, baby) multiple orgasms, multiple creampies, mentions of overstimulation, cockwarming, pussy drunk!ace, ace has a foul mouth — WC : 3.9k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : this was supposed to be his bday fic but i’m a bit late .. sorry ;( but i packed sm love into this and tied it off with a lil bow so pls enjoy teehee dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

ace had the kind of smile that could heal the world, bit by bit. anytime he presented it, it casted a warm glow to anyone who was lucky enough to witness it.

a part of you wanted to be selfish and hide it, keep it for yourself in hopes it would mend all the broken cracks inside of you. but a beauty like that deserves to see the light of day — so you’ve always stepped back and let the universe feel what you do when you look at him.

but what you never seem to realize is that there’s a special smile reserved for you. one that he shields from everyone else, one that’s devoted to only you. it was softer around the edges, blanketing you like a growing candlelight that illuminates the darkest rooms. a safe haven that you can put your guard down and cozy up in, melting into it like the wax that drips alongside it.

“there’s my girl.” ace says, that smile resting on his features. all you can do is return it, love and hope shining from your eyes as you gaze back at him from across the deck.

he’d been gone for what seemed so long, another mission that whisked him away from you and leaving your nights cold. the usual warmth he brought was snuffed out and all you could do was hope he’d be okay.

but he was, and he’s here.

in the blink of an eye, you’re running at full speed across the deck knowing that he’ll be there to catch you.

the wind brushes against you, almost encouraging your every step as you make your way closer to him, laughter escaping your lungs when you see his arms open up for you.

with a leap forward, strong arms encase you as he lifts you up in a hug, laughing with you, not a care in the world now that he’s with you.

“missed you.” the words settle deep into his bones as you utter them in the crook of his neck.

“missed you too.” he whispers back, keeping his voice low so only you hear it.

two hearts beating as one, a fated reunion that the universe had been waiting for. finding sanctuary in each other's arms once again, neither ready to let go just yet.

and you probably wouldn’t for the next few days, clinging onto each other — much to the crews annoyance. but they secretly find it endearing, their little ace having a love all of his own. something he doesn’t have to share, something that was meant for him and him alone.

ace sets you down for a moment, limbs still intertwined as he scans your face, looking for what — you don’t know. but you do the same, making sure that he came back to you in one piece.

“hi.” you beam up at him once you’ve decided that he’s okay, he’s not hurt and he’s back safe and sound.

“hi.” he cheeses back at you, familiar boyish grin taking up his face. the two of you held eye contact for a long while, soaking each other up before you were rudely interrupted by one of the guys.

“oh go on and kiss her already!” thatch called out, failing to hold back his laugh. ace’s attention snapped over to him for a second, almost shocked that you two weren’t the only ones in the world right now.

“mind your business, maybe!” he fired back, expression softening as soon as his attention is back on you. his voice was quieter, back to speaking to only you. “was getting to that part.”

“go on then.” you smirk at him, egging him on along with the rest of the crew. the ravenette doesn’t waste another moment, expertly whisking his hat off his head and putting it on yours, using the momentum to pull you in a searing kiss.

the crew cheered and you felt heat rise into your cheeks, but you didn’t care. it had been too long, his slightly chapped lips moved against yours as his arms move to tighten around your waist.

after another moment, he pulls away, giving a quick glance to the crew again, suddenly all too aware of where you both are.

“alright shows over.” he takes your hand, giving it a little kiss as some of the crew starts to disperse, knowing all too well they’ll have to settle for catching up with him later — much later.

“should we go to your room?” you ask innocently enough, wanting to hide from prying eyes during this tender moment. but he knew better. the way you clung to him, nails already digging in his biceps, body pressed up against him — he knew you were just being coy.

“can’t get enough of me, huh?” he laughs, the sound reverberating throughout your body so fiercely you had no choice but to join in, savoring the sound you missed so much. “but yeah, let’s go.”

ace throws his arm around your shoulders, leading you to the place you’ve called home for the last year or so. clunky boots eagerly stomp against the wooden floor as he tosses half a wave towards the rest of the crew — happily retreating back to his chambers with you firmly in place, tucked under him for safekeeping.

“seems you’ve made this place your own.” he teases as he shuts the door behind him with his boot. before you can retaliate, he lifts you up and tosses you on the bed, instantly crawling over you before you have a chance to settle on the sheets. “guess that’s not the only thing i’ll have to reclaim.”

gone is the smile from earlier, the light that shone in his eyes were now dark and full of desire. a fervent want that exuded off of him in waves, trying to lull you into him.

“reclaim?” you breathe, his lips barely brushing against yours before he buries his face into your neck, loudly inhaling your scent and placing wet kisses in his wake, nibbling against your skin.

“missed you s’much.” his voice slurs with need, already drunk on you.

“you said that.” you tease, trying not to get swept up in the tidal wave you knew was coming.

“i meant it.” his face was back in front of yours, unabashed honesty filtering his features. your fingers reach up to touch his freckled cheeks, full of purpose, each moment striking true as the pads trace over the beautiful marks that take up his face. “can’t wait anymore, it’s been too long, i gotta have you, princess.”

“you have me —“ the rest of your sentence was eaten up by his hunger for you, lips kissing you with a bruising intensity that could only be forged by the passion of longing, searing into you as he branded you with his unyielding love.

and just as you guessed, the wave came for you and dragged you into him. eagerly moving your lips against his as you taste everything you’ve been starved of for the past month.

ace couldn’t even hold back anymore, taking your clothes off so quickly the ends were seared in his haste, wanting nothing more than to feel your bare skin against his.

the very thing he craved, the intimacy he could share with you, delving into your body behind closed doors is what kept him going. coming back home to you would always be his driving force in every mission he set out on.

the pressure of his tongue prods at your mouth, easily slipping in as you let out a gasp. he smiles into the kiss, missing the saccharine sounds you’d let out whenever he’d have you like this.

he savors every crevice, the sweet taste of your own tongue coating his. it’s easy for his mind to slip into your grasp, saturating in everything you have to offer him.

“no one makes my heart beat like you do.” he pulls back for a moment, pressing heated kisses along your neck, expertly finding each spot that makes you squirm under him — his thigh pressing up against your core, nudging your clit. “swear you’re the thing that holds me together.”

strong hands slide under you, cupping your ass before giving it a soft squeeze. you swear whenever he does that he puts a little heat behind it, overexcited at what’s to come.

his hands dig into your hips, guiding you along his thigh as he leaves little marks against your skin, dark splotches blossoming in the form of love.

“ace,” you gasp, breath full of want. it captures his attention like no other, dark eyes set on you and you swear you can see the nights sky bloom in them. whatever you were about to say dies in your throat at his intensity.

“i love the way you say my name, need to hear it again.” his warm palm slides down your body and between your legs. “don’t be shy, alright?”

deft fingers pry your thighs open as his thigh gets out of the way, and a thrill of anticipation rushes through your spine, already causing you to arch under his welcome touch.

“did you touch yourself while i was gone?” two fingers gently drag along your slick slit, collecting the honeyed essence on the tips of his fingers, webbing them together as you start to stitch yourself back into him.

“ace —“ your hips jolt towards him, longing for more as his fingers retreat into his own mouth, eyes burning into yours before fluttering shut as your taste melts over his tongue. he lets out a satisfied groan, a thick sound that erupts deep from his chest. “that’s embarrassing.”

“is it? ‘m just curious.” ace smiles a little, crouching down a bit more so his freckled face lays right before your awaiting cunt. it takes everything in you not to grab him by his hair and shove his eager mouth right where you both want it. “s’ok, i can go first.”

before you can question him, his finger slips into you, slowly stretching you out. he must’ve lost his train of thought, eyes focused on the way your greedy pussy swallows his digit, soaking up the small whimper you let out as he goes deeper.

“so tight for me, i bet your little fingers couldn’t stretch you out the way i can, huh?” he slides in another, his face so close to your cunt that his nose prods against your clit. “don’t worry princess, i’m here now.”

“feels so good,” you whine, arching up into his touch, trying to gain some friction against your clit. but he wasn’t giving in yet. “missed you s’much ace.”

“missed you too.” he adds a third finger in, tilting his head thoughtfully. “you know, there was one night about a week or so after i first left where i found myself at an inn.” he started, licking his plush lips in anticipation, adam’s apple bobbing at the sight of your cunt drooling all over his fingers.

“i had every intention of laying down and getting some rest but i kept thinking about you, about your pretty pussy.” with that, he finally leans in to give your clit a kiss, swirling his tongue around it while his fingers maintained a steady pace.

“couldn’t stop touching myself.” he rasps, heavy breaths fanning over your cunt — drunk on your taste, your scent, you. “couldn’t tell you how many times i came just wishing you were there to take it all f’me like you always do, like you’re supposed to.”

“wish i — aah!” your sentence gets cut off with a moan as ace finally gives in, a man starved as he eats you out. his wet tongue lapping against you, drinking up everything you have to offer him.

it’s hard to say who gets more enjoyment when ace devours you like this. his hips start to rut against the mattress, groaning and grunting into your cunt.

ace can feel his dick twitch with interest in time with each of your moans, pleasure pooling deep into his gut as he starts to get his fill of you.

after years of experience, ace could unravel you with a few well placed thrusts but he’d draw it out, savor every moment. but when it came to times like these where the only thing he wanted to do was to shove his cock into you, he’d do what needed to be done so you could take him.

“so good, ace.” you gasp out, your own fingers digging into his bicep as it ripples with determination, driving back into you so he can bring you tumbling over the edge and into his awaiting arms. “you’re always so good to me.”

“yeah?” he increases his pace, hips humping faster against the mattress as he tries to chase the friction, drunk off your praise. it always went right to his cock, desperate to drown in it.

“yeah.” you whine, back arching slightly as he thumbs at your clit, slowly but surely drawing out your orgasm. you were right on the edge, every nerve in your body set ablaze by the man between your legs, the man that would do anything for you, be anything for you. just as hopelessly devoted to you as to him.

ace was taking you higher and higher, the pleasure fogging over your brain, your thighs starting to shake as he doesn’t relent. he knew you were almost there.

“let go for me, baby.” ace can’t seem to focus on a single place, eyes darting to your blissed out face before zeroing in on your messy cunt, drooling and slobbering around his fingers as he brings you over the edge from his simple command.

your body tightens with pleasure, curling inside of you like a coil before it snaps, sending waves of ecstasy throughout you. a mantra of his name slips past your lips and brings you back down to him, watching as he tears off his pants.

your fingers trail down the patch of rough hair that leads you to where he’s pulsing with need. ace hisses loudly as you wrap your fingers around his cock, pulling him closer to you.

“fuck me, please.” you whine and any last bit of his resolve shatters into a thousand pieces. driven by his innate instinct to satisfy you, he roughly grabs you by your hips, lining himself up before pushing into you, stretching you open and laying you bare.

“you never have to beg for me, princess.” ace rasps, voice a little whiny as he takes in how good you feel. “i’d give you whatever you want.”

and he would. you feel like heaven to him, silken walls wrapped deliciously around his cock, pulsing with need, threatening to swallow him whole. he doesn’t think he’d mind it, he’d really let you do anything to him.

as much as he wanted to pound into you relentlessly, burning off all his frustration from the last month of not having you — he had to pause otherwise he’d cum before he even had the chance to start.

ace’s hands roam over your body, squeezing every inch as if he’s making sure you’re really there, that he’s home. his thumb grazes over your nipple and you keen for him, arching up for more attention.

and who was he to ever refuse you?

“oh you like that?” he murmurs, trying to sound seductive but the crack in his voice gave him away.

“fuck me, ace. move.” you reiterate, less whine in your voice as you roll your hips against him, biting back the word ‘please’.

he all but whimpers, the sound melting into your skin and seeping into your bones and you can’t help but chase that again and again.

plunging back into you, he sets a quicker pace. each drag of his cock carved his way back into your heart, desperately rutting himself into you to prove to you how devoted he was — that his time away didn’t lessen any of the feelings he carried in his heart.

it only made it grow stronger.

you could feel him twitch and pulse deep inside of you, as if his cock was begging for more.

“missed you, missed your cute little pussy.” ace ruts into you, lost in the way your warm walls fluttering around him, coaxing him to drive further into you. “did you miss me, baby?”

“yes, yes!” your voice turns into moans as he nudges the gooey spot deep inside of you, melting your brain.

“you feel — fuck — you feel so fucking good. you’re so wet, baby, can you hear?” he couldn’t control what was coming out of his mouth, his body was in overdrive as the only thing he could comprehend was how good he was feeling.

“ace-“ you whine again, embarrassed at his honest praise, his thoughts flowing from his mouth. you cover your face only for a second before he rips your hands from it, lacing them between his own and pushing it back down into the mattress.

“no.” his voice was deep, eyes sharp on you. “don’t ever hide from me, not after i’ve been gone. please. i need to see you.”

he leans back in, hips still moving quickly against yours as he captures your lips with his, groaning at the taste of you. a part of him wanted to taste every inch, pull his cock out and eat you out until you’re screaming for all to hear.

but there’s no way he could leave the warmth of your cunt, deliciously squeezing him as he drives back into you over and over again.

“‘m gonna cum.” he moans, fingers squeezing yours as he starts to hump you, slow and shallow — his release on the cusp but he couldn’t let go until you were with him.

“me too.” you gasp out, your free hand gripping his back, nails dragging into his skin in an attempt to ground yourself.

your ankle digs into the dimples in his back, driving him closer — deeper. the need to feel close to him overpowering all your senses, the same as him.

with one last deep thrust, ace pushes into you and sends you both over the edge, crying out each others name in unison as he spills into you, giving you everything he has to offer.

before you have a chance to come down from your high, he doesn’t let up. humping into you, making sure you get every drop of his love.

“c-can’t stop yet.” he rasps out, thrusts moving faster. your legs uselessly fall limp to your sides, exhaustion already settling into your bones as he continues to drive into your overused cunt. but it feels so good you couldn’t even fathom asking him to stop — not when the only thing that filled your mind was ace, ace, ace.

his tip nudging against that spongy spot deep inside you sends your mind reeling, involuntarily clenching around his cock and sending him further into his frenzy.

at this point, his pace was unstoppable, the sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room, ace’s eyes swirling with love and lust as he gazes down at you, absolutely drunk on the pleasure only you can bring him.

“s-sensitive!” you cry out, overstimulation coursing through your veins, setting your body ablaze in a swirl of pleasure and pain.

“i know baby, i know.” he kisses your head, his thrusts unrelenting as your body jolts under his touch. “but you feel too damn good like this. twitching all over my cock — haaah.”

“that feel good?” ace breathes in your ear, cock reaching so deep within you that stars erupt behind your eyes. all you can do is nod, not trusting your voice. but it’s not good enough for him. “c’mon talk to me, baby. missed your voice so much.”

“ace!” you yelp out as he pounds harder into you, hips snapping against yours relentlessly. you couldn’t get the words out even if you wanted to, the force of his thrusts knocking all of words right out of your pretty little head.

“mine, mine, mine.” each word was enunciated with a harsh thrust — but his voice gave himself away. the crack at the end, the desperation lacing his tone — he needed you to hear him, reassure him, tell him that you still feel the same way he does.

“m’yours!” you cry out, clinging onto him as his pace doesn’t let up. “i’m yours, ace, only yours.”

ace sinks his teeth into your shoulder, staving off his release just a little longer, until he felt your walls try to suffocate him.

it was too much — the build up, the reunion, ace’s all too familiar, sloppy kisses. your vision goes white as you violently cum around him, soaking his cock as you release.

a litany of curse words flow from his lips as you unravel around him, the force of your orgasm sending him spiraling.

the sight alone would’ve driven him over the edge but the way you whimpered his name had his hips stuttering into you, shoving himself deep inside of you before pumping you full of his cum, another load filling you up.

refusing to pull out, his cock jumps with interest yet again but he tries to push the need down for awhile. if ace had it his way he’d keep you here all night, giving you as much of his cum as he possibly can.

but the truth is, he really fucking missed you and wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms for a little bit, nuzzling his slightly sweaty face into yours as both of your breathing starts to settle down.

“baby?” ace asks so softly you almost don’t hear it.

“yes?” you whisper back, smoothing his hair down before running your fingers through it, gently untangling any knots. you knew you’d both need to shower, especially after this. but it could wait.

“nothing.” he nudges your cheek with his freckled nose. but you weren’t having that. you gently tilt his chin upward, pressing your lips against his forehead.

“tell me, i’m here.” you barely remove your lips from his skin, letting the words breathe over him. ace’s gaze meets yours and wordlessly shares so much with you — the pain of having been away from you, the relief of being back in your arms, the depths of his love for you all swirling in those dark puppy dog eyes of his.

so instead, he opts to kiss you softly, taking all the time in the world to pour his love into you, making up for all the kisses he missed out on while he was away. he pulls apart, that beautiful smile reserved just for you resting on his face.

“i just love you s’much.” ace settles on, basking in the love you pour over him. you know there’s more he wants to say but that’s for another time. a time where both of you don’t have to worry about the perils of tomorrow or whether or not he’d come home on time.

for now, this was all you needed. his warm body tucked next to you, a tangle of limbs as you move closer into him. watching as his half-lidded eyes start to flutter shut, eyelashes fanning along his freckled cheeks you endlessly adore.

“and i love you so much.” with a final kiss on his forehead, you can hear his breathing deepen as he starts to succumb to sleep — a habit he’s formed after you two have sex no matter where you might be.

but his cock was still inside of you and you knew it was only a matter of time until he was awake again and raring to go. so you might as well try to get some rest too, clinging to the man who fiercely holds your heart.

thank you so much for reading ᰔ

[naughtyjjk]

just a massage (pt. 2)

characters: nanami x fem reader warnings: 18+, smut, massage, sexual tension, dirty talk, fingering, masturbation, a bit of exhibitionism/voyeurism notes: if you haven't already, make sure to read part 1 here first!

it’s been a week and nanami hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. it’s terrible for him mentally, for his day-to-day living in general. every time he closes his eyes, you’re there in his mind. you with your naked body and perfect curves and smooth skin… the way you were so vocal and reactive to his touches…

he’s thought about you more than he’d ever admit, especially at night, after a long day of work, when he’s finally able to take off his clothes and lie down in bed and wrap a hand around his aching cock. yes, he’s jerked off to the thought of you—multiple times. he can’t seem to stop, addicted to the fantasy that he conjures. and it’s bad, it’s so bad of him, but he’s also never come so hard before and you make him irrationally horny.

today, nanami gets to the massage parlor and opens up his schedule. that’s when he sees your name there, a session booked for 1:30 pm. he blinks, wondering if it’s a dream. it’s not. he moves through the whole morning on autopilot, speaking politely to clients who are not you. they’re all irrelevant and he’s both looking forward to and dreading the time of your appointment.

he promised that he wouldn’t repeat what happened last time. it had been far to inappropriate, far too unprofessional, and he could easily get fired if anyone found out. but… his cock has other ideas. he doesn’t know if he would be able to hold back once he sees you again, in person, there to tempt him with your hot, sexy body. at the same time, a part of him wants to find out how far he can push you, test the limits to see how much you’re able to endure. it had been obvious that you were into it just as much as he was last time.

inhaling, nanami looks at the clock. it shouldn’t be long now before you get here. he has to tame his thoughts so that he doesn’t get himself all worked up over nothing.

but fuck, he wants you. he wants you so fucking bad.

.

“you booked a longer session this time,” nanami greets you as you walk into the room. he’s shirtless again, of course. at this point, you can probably guess that it’s a deliberate choice, as if he’s testing your resolve from the very start. like last time, the only piece of clothing he has on is a pair of shorts that barely does anything to hide what he’s packing down there.

you divert your eyes before you end up staring for too long. everything about the massage parlor looks exactly the same as it had when you visited last week, with its white walls and minimalistic decorations and the different bottles of oils all lined up on the counter which, as nanami has proved previously, can be used for more than their intended purposes. but there is something that changed, though, and you sense it as soon as you see nanami.

“well,” you reply eventually, “we left off with some unfinished business.”

there’s no beating around the bush anymore. neither of you bother to keep up pretenses this time because it’s inevitable where this will lead. and this is something you both clearly want. you know that you’re not the only one who had been looking forward to today, that nanami wants it just as much as you.

“right. but you know,” nanami drawls, “last time, while you were in the changeroom after our session, i think i heard some… noises. any idea what that could be?”

flushing, you feel your entire body heating up with embarrassment. you curse yourself for not being quieter at the time and you clear throat, glancing away. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“hm.” nanami looks at you unconvinced. he takes a step closer. “it couldn’t have been that you were doing anything naughty in there, right?”

“o-of course not,” you say, hating how guilty you sound.

thankfully, nanami doesn’t press you any further. “good. i mean, no one else heard you… but it would’ve been bad if someone did.” he grabs a few of the items from the counter and walks over to the bed. “now, where would you like me to massage this time?”

sitting back, you make a vague gesture. “just—continue where we left off. same as before.”

nanami raises an eyebrow. “come on, now. let’s be a bit more honest,” he says, pausing to lick his lips. “we both know what you’re really here for.”

“everywhere,” you blurt out, arousal hitting you without warning. “my whole body… the front this time, too. make me feel good.”

eyes darkening with desire, nanami nods, pleased with your answer. “much better. we’ll start with you lying down on the bed again.”

you position yourself the same as last time, on your stomach with your face down and legs spreading apart instinctively. you hear nanami chuckle at your eagerness.

soon, oil is poured over your back, warm hands spreading it all over. your muscles relax at once and you’re reminded of how skilled nanami is. along your spine, he applies pressure to his palms, drawing out soft sounds from you. nanami runs his hands parallel, gliding them down all the way to your legs, then back up again, and repeating the process until heat starts to coil inside you.

after a moment, nanami asks, with just a hint of amusement in his voice, “what are you thinking about?”

“nothing,” you mumble. a lie, obviously. there’s only one thing that could be occupying your mind while nanami is touching you like this, rubbing your body sensually, and that’s—

“hm.” nanami says. “want to know what i’m thinking about?”

“wh-what?”

“how much i want to fuck you.” nanami’s voice is low and he uses both hands to squeeze your ass over the towel. in response, you moan, arousal hitting you hard. “how horny you make me. i've been thinking about it since our last session…”

breath hitching, you feel a rush of heat spreading throughout your body like wildfire, a wetness starting to soak your pussy. it’s no secret that you’ve been imagining the same scenario for the past few days, every second that you’ve been apart.

“how long has it been since you’ve had sex, darling?”

“ah—i don’t know. weeks, maybe,” you say, exhaling. you’re losing himself to the sensation of nanami’s hands as he moves them again, this time drawing circles on your inner thighs. “months.”

skirting along the edge of the towel, nanami’s fingers slip under just for a second to brush against your ass. “and how are you feeling? pent up from all those months without relief?”

“y-yeah.” you swallow hard. you’ve been more on edge than you’d like to admit, more irritable in general the longer you go without getting laid. sometimes, you’ll be flooded with dirty thoughts at the most inappropriate times, often waking up to wet dreams and an ache in your pussy to be filled.

“mm, and do you miss it? having sex?” nanami’s hot breath is right by your ear, a low whisper when he asks, “getting fucked?”

shuddering, you can’t help but moan softly. “yes.”

“it’s not enough to satisfy the craving by yourself, is it? it’s been so long…” nanami murmurs. “you want someone there with you, someone to touch you, someone to make you feel good.”

“kento… oh…”

last time, this was the point in the massage when he had stopped. but nanami shows no signs of slowing down, and even when his hands lift from your body, he makes sure that you know he’s not done yet.

“don’t worry, i’ll take good care of you today,” nanami tells you, and you’re hit with another wave of arousal. “now, turn around for me.”

you do as you’re told, flipping over on the bed to lie on your back, facing up at the ceiling. your heart hammers away in your chest as nanami eyes you up and down. you expect him to start working down from your shoulders, but he seems to have other plans when his hands move directly to untie the towel around your waist.

“w-wait, i—”

pausing, nanami glances at you, a smirk on his face. “what’s wrong? are you embarrassed that you’re wet already?” he slides the towel lower just a little. “have you forgotten how you were begging for it last time?”

nanami doesn’t wait for you to reply before unwrapping the towel all the way. like this, you can’t hide your desire anymore. and you’re more than aware of how wet you’ve gotten, pussy dripping and soaking the bed. you see nanami’s gaze flicker down, pausing in his actions to admire your body. you feel so exposed like this, naked on the bed while presenting yourself to him, and the tension between you grows thicker by the second. it’s all so arousing.

taking the bottle of oil, nanami holds it over you and pours out the liquid directly so that it leaves a trail from your chest all the way to your stomach. you can’t help but flinch slightly, feeling it tickle as it drips. a few drops fall directly onto your pussy, causing it to throb, and your breath hitches as you bite back a moan. nanami licks his lips and then his hands are on you again.

first, he runs a single finger down the center of your body, between your breasts, over your stomach, stopping just before touching your pussy, above your clit. the process is slow. slow and sensual. spreading the rest of the oil evenly across your skin, nanami takes his time in feeling you all over, making the anticipation build and build inside you.

next, your breasts are the main area of focus as he draws large circles on both sides, dipping near your armpits, along the underside, and trailing back up the center. slowly, the circles get smaller with each round, closing in on your nipples. but as soon as he’s about to come into contact with those hardened nubs, nanami retreats and starts all over again. he does it three more times—large circles spiraling closer, closer, closer. tracing just around it. caressing the sides. and you always think that this time, this time, he’s going to finally reach your nipples.

he never does. you groan, frustrated. it’s the first time you’ve experienced something like this; the first time you’ve ever wanted your nipples to be touched so badly. the worst part is that it’s really getting to you, turned on from barely anything. your pussy begs for attention, leaking more of your arousal as you mentally curse nanami for being such a fucking tease.

at that moment, nanami leans in so that his mouth is hovering just above one of your breasts and your heart pounds at the possibility of what’s to come. but all he does is blow against it gently and chuckle. 

“your nipples are so hard…” his tongue pokes out, swirling it in the air just above your skin, exactly like how he would if he were to suck and lick at the sensitive nub. he holds your gaze but never makes contact with his tongue. still, you can feel the phantom sensations there, and you want so badly for him to take you in his mouth. “want me to touch you?”

god, yes. you let out a whine. all of this teasing is going straight to your pussy, so wet with desire. but nanami’s mouth retreats and he goes back to using his hands, circling your breasts with his fingers.

when you don’t think that you could take it anymore, you feel it—a single finger brushing across both your nipples, just grazing them, the lightest of touches. you’re so turned on at this point, the anticipation having built up inside you, that you gasp, squirming on the spot as you try to adjust to the sudden, unexpected jolt of pleasure.

“ah—”

“look at you. so sensitive, so riled up from barely anything,” nanami says, waiting for you to regain your composure.

it’s not your fault. nanami made sure that your body would be extra responsive by taking it slow, making you crave it, and one barely-there touch is hardly enough to satisfy you. but that’s all you get for a while as nanami repeats his actions with the sole mission of making the experience as agonizing as possible for you.

eventually, when you least expect it, the pattern changes. nanami flattens his hands over your nipples and rubs them, going from palms to fingertips, the oil adding a delicious glide to every movement. he grabs both your breasts and fondles them, massages them. cupping them with his palms and squeezing with his large hands.

“ohh…” you moan, arching into the touch. soon, nanami switches to grasping your nipples between his fingers, pinching the delicate nubs with the perfect amount of pressure, and it sends a rush of sensation throughout your body. you whimper. “fuck, k-kento…”

“does it turn you on when i play with your nipples?” nanami asks, hyperattentive, watching every reaction that your body makes. “such a naughty girl.”

fuck, it’s only your second session here but nanami has already figured out your body’s weaknesses, all of your most sensitive areas, the erogenous zones, and how to take you apart. you shouldn’t be falling for every one of nanami’s tricks. you shouldn’t be this easy. but you gave up control the moment you laid down on this bed, and nanami just seems to have that effect on you.

having gotten the reaction he wanted, nanami moves on. he had spent so long playing with your nipples that you almost forgot the feeling of those tantalizing hands on the rest of his body. but you’re quickly reminded when he travels down to your stomach, your lower abdomen, purposely avoiding your pussy and going straight to your legs.

it’s the assault on your inner thighs that eventually ruins you. because nanami is running his hands up your thighs, stopping right at your pelvis, and doing it over and over and over—repeatedly, for what seems like forever. occasionally, his fingertips will brush against the outside of your folds, but the touch is fleeting and never goes any further than that, only serving to taunt you.

you groan, wishing nanami would just get on with it. when you express this, you only get an amused chuckle in response.

“so impatient. and you’re all wet for me already…” nanami says, those words making you even more aroused. “that’s it, let your body crave it. i would love to eat you out and taste you on my tongue.”

you certainly wouldn’t complain if he did just that. but nanami only spreads your legs and runs a finger past your pussy, spreading your wetness there. he circles your clit once, and you moan. then he goes further down until he finds your entrance but doesn’t push inside. he continues to do that—playing with you, teasing you, turning you into a writhing mess on the bed.

oh, you want him so bad. you’ve never wanted a man this fucking bad before. your body is burning, the need and desire growing exponentially by the second.

“there are so many things i want to do to you.” nanami swallows, looking like he wants to devour you but is doing everything he can to hold himself back. “but i’ll keep it simple for today. you look like you won’t be able to last much longer, anyway.”

without warning, nanami slides his hand back up to your clit, pinching it between two fingers, slick with oil. your entire body jolts as you feel pressure being applied there, a choked out moan escaping your lips. nanami rolls the pads of his fingers around the sensitive nub and you throb at his touch, breathing significantly harder now.

it had already been overwhelming before, but now your whole body burns with pleasure, with desire—wild and untamed. heat sears through you, fast, hot, making you somewhat delirious. you lose control of yourself as you buck up and circle your hips, trying to feel more of it.

“remember, this is still a massage,” nanami says, voice low, and you’re not sure who he’s trying to fool. he pinches you again, the perfect amount of pressure, and you arch off the bed with a whimper. “all i’m doing is giving you a massage…”

his hand flattens and he rubs your clit up and down, then in circles, slow at first and gradually increasing in speed. there’s no pattern to his movements; nanami is completely unpredictable, leaving you guessing, never allowing you to adjust to the sensation at any given moment. all you can do is lie there and take it, at his mercy, chasing after whatever he’s willing to give you. but you can’t exactly complain, though, not when it feels this fucking good.

“k-kento—” you cry out as all your nerves ignite at once, tingles of pleasure spreading all throughout your body.

“is this how you touched yourself in the changeroom last time?” the pace quickens, nanami drawing tight circles around your clit. “did you imagine that i was the one touching you? getting you closer and closer?”

moaning, you try to reply but your head is swimming with pleasure and it’s infinitely more arousing now that nanami is really here, playing with your pussy. it’s not just a fantasy anymore.

and then—it hits you fast, hard, entirely by surprise. one minute nanami is changing up his rhythm and the next, you find yourself bucking into the air uncontrollably, moaning loud and needy, and fuck, you’re—oh god, you’re going to come, you’re going to come—

“not yet, baby,” nanami says, voice low and stern. a command. his hand immediately withdraws from your body, keeping you right on the edge but never tipping over, and instead moves to hold your hips in place as you convulse on the bed, helpless to ride it out as your orgasm ebbs away. your pussy throbs and throbs, aching, dripping with your wetness. you’re left painfully unsatisfied. fuck, it’s not fair.

chest heaving, you whimper, having been denied your release. your whole body is on fire, and you’re so fucking turned on. you need to come. you need to come so fucking bad.

“kento,” you plead, willing to do anything to get his hands back on you. if this gets drawn out any longer, you’re not sure if you’ll survive. “kento, please—i’m—i can’t—please—”

almost idly, nanami trails a hand around the outside of your pussy, keeping his touch gentle like he has all the time in the world. it’s only a single finger grazing against you, but your hips flinch, moaning at the feeling of it. “do you really want it to end that quickly? i would love to see how desperate you can get. it won’t take much more for you to come, will it?”

you’re trembling and your pussy throbs every time nanami makes contact with it. you’re still unbelievably close to the edge despite calming down a bit now, and you’re sure that all it’ll take is a bit more stimulation from nanami before you reach your climax.

“can you—oh,” you start, words dissolving into a moan as nanami touches you again, fingers prodding at your entrance this time. it takes deliberate effort for you to gather your thoughts and finish the sentence, but you’ve become shameless, too aroused and horny to maintain any sense of dignity. “c-can you fuck me instead? i wanna—hah—wanna come on your cock.”

“mm, tempting. really tempting. but i don’t think so,” nanami tells you. his fingers latch onto your clit again, circling around it faster than before, and it’s so fucking good, so distracting that you’re barely able to hang on to his words. “i won’t fuck you today. i want to get you really desperate for it, let the tension build up until it makes you lose control. and when i finally give you what you want—tomorrow, or the next day, or even a week from now—i’ll break you apart slowly and leave you writhing under me. think of how good it’ll feel to finally have my cock in you after all this time, hard and aching inside you, filling up that tight little pussy.”

whimpering, you’re not even able to formulate a reply. that has to be the hottest proposal you’ve ever heard, like nanami has somehow figured out all of your dirtiest fantasies and is making them a reality. your mind is clouded with an arousal so strong that you’re struggling to process everything. but nanami isn’t even done yet.

“eventually, if i fuck you… when i fuck you, i’m going to take you apart slowly and push you to your limits until you show me just how badly you need it. you’ll be shaking under me, begging to have my cock in you. god, darling, i’ve wanted to ruin you since our first session together.”

you moan brokenly, hips thrusting wildly on the bed in response to his words. holy shit. nanami knows exactly how to get you all worked up. what’s worse is that every word he says is a cruel reminder that his cock isn’t inside you, isn’t fucking you, isn’t even out of those tight, tight pants yet.

“hah—fuck, your cock—n-need your cock—”

“i’ll give you something just as good.” nanami is watching you intensely, taking in the way your body responds. he bends your legs, hands sliding almost innocently across your entrance. “i can massage your insides. how does that sound?”

it sounds incredibly fucking hot, that’s what. and suddenly, you’ve never desired anything so badly before. “y-yeah—ngh, please—”

“spread your legs for me, baby,” nanami tell you. doing as you’re told, you follow his guidance to expose your pussy even more, aroused and horny beyond belief. “good girl. you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

a finger runs along the outside of your pussy, slick with oil, and you choke out a moan, lifting your hips to try and feel more of it. thankfully, it goes in soon enough, not wasting any time, and nanami sinks a finger into you, the slick oil helping to ease his length inside. you let out a startled gasp as he goes deeper and deeper, past the first and second knuckle, all the way until his whole finger has been swallowed up.

once he’s all the way in, nanami groans at the tightness that envelopes him, the way you clam down as if refusing to let him go. but he starts pulling back out, inch by inch, and you’re helpless to it; all you can do is moan at how good it feels. he pumps it in and out a few times almost experimentally, taking in how quickly you’re falling apart on the bed before him.

“you can imagine that it’s my cock fucking you if that helps,” nanami whispers in your ear and the suggestion has you whimpering. “but of course, my cock is bigger than this. think you can take another?”

“Y-yes—ah—yes, yes, more—”

“look at me,” nanami says, waiting until you turn your head before adding a second digit, stretching you open. you gasp, panting as soon as he starts to thrust into you properly. “see how hard i am because of you? my cock feels like it’s going to burst out of these pants.”

and it’s true; your gaze falls on nanami’s bulge, so hot and obscene within the confines of his pants. the fabric shifts every time it twitches, pulsing like it’s trying to break out, wet and damp where the tip is. nanami’s free hand moves to touch himself, hips rolling into his palms, giving himself some relief for the very first time.

god, you swallow. you would do anything to have him pull out his cock already.

but nanami’s only goal seems to be to get you as worked up as possible, bringing you right to the edge with his dirty words. “mm, yeah. think about how fucking good it’ll feel to have my cock throbbing inside you. thrusting into your tight little pussy, nice and deep.”

his fingers curl, sending an unexpected jolt through your entire body. you cry out, back arching off the bed, head thrown back as an intense wave of pleasure overtakes you. “a-ah—! shit, kento—o-oh my god—”

grinning, nanami makes sure to aim for the same place again. “is this the spot? does it feel good here?”

“hah—fuck—y-yeah, good—hng, so fucking good—”

nanami hums, but the next few thrusts he makes purposely avoids your g-spot. each one is shallower than the last and you can’t help but squirm as you get increasingly frustrated, until he pulls out altogether.

“that’s a good look on you. it seriously turns me on to see how desperate you are now,” nanami says, licking his lips. his eyes are dark and full of desire as he takes in the sight of you, running his hands along your thighs and watching your pussy throb. “it’s almost a shame we have to end things here today.”

you take a few seconds to process what he’s saying, and once you do, all you can think is, no, no. not again. you didn’t get to come yet. you need more, need your release, need those fingers back in you. need to—

“th-that’s it?” you ask in disbelief when it becomes clear that nanami isn’t going to continue. the towel is wrapped around you once again. your pussy aches in protest at how abruptly things ended, still dripping and dripping and dripping with unresolved arousal.

fuck. you refuse to let nanami leave him like this again; you’re determined to get a better outcome, unlike last time when you had to get yourself off in the changeroom. you’ll break down and beg if you have to. you want to come on nanami’s cock, on nanami’s fingers, and you know that nanami wants it, too. but whenever it seems that he’s about to go further, he always stops, right when you’re most anticipating it.

it’s especially frustrating because he’s gotten you all worked up, so fucking horny that you can hardly even think straight, but it never goes far enough for you to be fully satisfied. you’re kept on the brink of release, never allowed to come. it’s so cruel. it only works to turn you on more, to an unbearable degree.

but nanami doesn’t even acknowledge it. he only looks at you innocently. “our time is up for today,” he says, then leans in close, voice lowering to a whisper. “did you really think that i would let you come so easily? you’ve been a very naughty girl.”

fuck, that shouldn’t sound as hot and sexy as it does. it definitely shouldn’t be making you even more turned on.

“i—” shit, you think. you glance down at nanami’s very obvious erection, the desire he clearly has, too. i want your cock—want you to fuck me. but it’s clear that he doesn’t plan on going any further today, so you only manage to stammer out, “i don’t think i can go out like this.”

because you’re in arguably a worse state than nanami. despite the towel doing the bare minimum of hiding your arousal, your legs are still trembling slightly and the wetness between your legs isn’t going away.

“ah.” nanami’s eyes flicker down as he licks his lips. “you’re right, we can’t have you leaving like that. why don’t you take care of yourself now?”

you stare at him. when nanami only meets your gaze expectantly, you ask, “you mean… right here?”

“yes. we pride ourselves on customer satisfaction, you know. i can’t let you go when you clearly still have… unfinished business.” nanami smirks, evidently smug for getting you to such a state. “and don’t mind me. there’s still some time before the next appointment, so i’ll just be cleaning up the room.”

and you can’t believe it. what nanami is essentially asking you to do is masturbate, get yourself off, while you’re being watched.

the idea of it is crazy. but it’s undeniably hot, too. so fucking hot.

a few steps away, nanami is busying himself with setting up the equipment, but it’s obvious that he never strays too far. he’s still paying attention, making sure to keep you in his peripheral vision, intent on not missing out on anything.

hesitantly, you unwrap the towel around your waist until you’re fully naked once more. you sigh and glance down at yourself. it’s almost embarrassing because it’s far too noticeable just how fucking horny you are, with the way your pussy is swollen and so, so wet, making a mess on the bed.

across the room, nanami’s movements have stopped. he’s openly staring at you now, taking in the sight of you greedily. there’s hunger in his gaze as he grips the counter next to him, transfixed on the way your pussy is fully exposed, practically begging for attention.

you make eye contact, and a charge of tension passes between you before nanami nods once. “go on. show me how you make yourself feel good.”

so, you get comfortable again on the bed, hyperaware that your every action is being watched. it makes you more excited than you’d ever admit as the shame and embarrassment and humiliation all mix together with intense arousal, clouding your mind. you run your hands over your own body, starting with your breasts, cupping them and teasing your hardened nipples. just like nanami did earlier. soft moans escape you, pleasure surging throughout as you turn your head to look at nanami with half-lidded eyes.

nanami remains silent, but his expression gives him away. there’s no mistake that this is turning him on too, and you swear that you see him twitching in his pants, the fabric shifting over his bulge. but still, he’s far too composed, and you want to break down his self-control, get him so worked up that he can’t resist coming over and fucking you anymore.

traveling down your chest, across the planes of his stomach, your hands come to a stop at your hips. you spread your legs, bending your knees so that your feet are planted flat on the bed, giving you easier access to your aching pussy.

you’ve waited long enough. the slow tease of nanami’s massage and the beyond erotic proposal of masturbating in front of him have all caught up to you and you can’t delay this any longer. trailing a hand down to your entrance, you push a finger inside and immediately moan at the feeling of being filled again.

“fuck… yes,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering shut as you give yourself over to the sensation. you’ve only just touched himself, barely even started at all, but you’re already feeling it.

it’s hot and wet inside your pussy, the oil helping to loosen you up. you drag your finger, moving in and out of yourself, feeling how needy and pent-up you are as your hips roll slightly, growing impatient. you squeeze a second finger inside. moaning, you scissor them apart and pleasure floods through you.

and then you begin to thrust, going at a fairly slow pace. but still, it’s enough to have your thighs shaking, so fucking sensitive. you can feel yourself falling apart.

your fingers curl, angled just right, and your nerves come to life, firing jolts all the way up your spine. “o-oh—ngh, shit—kento—”

at the sound of nanami’s name slipping past your lips, mixed in with a moan, you hear the hitch of a breath to your side. opening your eyes again, you blink to clear your vision, and see that nanami has made his way over to the bed, standing right beside you. something about him being this close, watching over you with his cock hard and bulging in his pants, has your arousal spiking.

suddenly, you can’t stand the slow buildup anymore. your speed increases, thrusting into yourself faster before you even realize it, pushing as deep as you can go. the rush of pleasure is immediate, and your head falls back, breaths growing ragged. there’s a moan but this time it doesn’t come from you; nanami is the one who made the sound, low and strained. he looks like he’s at his limit just by being there as a bystander, watching you on display.

“fuck, that’s it,” nanami encourages you, fingers twitching like he wants to reach out and touch. replace your fingers with his own. “in and out, steady thrusts. just like that…”

receiving instructions from nanami only makes you more turned on. your hips lift off the bed involuntarily and you can’t help staring at the twitching erection in his pants. “ah, feels—feels so good—"

“i bet it does,” nanami says. “look at how much you’re getting off on this. you secretly like being watched, don’t you?”

“f-fuck,” you break off into a moan. the answer to his question is evident in the way you’re dripping from your pussy, walls clenching around your own fingers.

and nanami must notice it too because he tells you, “don’t forget about your clit, baby. i know you like it there.”

reaching down with your other hand, you circle around your sensitive clit, body jerking at the added stimulation. and this is going to be your undoing, you know, because you feel the familiar buildup of your orgasm reaching a peak inside you, the crescendo of something bigger. already, you feel like you could come at any moment.

on top of that, nanami is relentless. “good girl,” he murmurs. “faster now. get yourself real close for me.”

you obey because you have no choice, because nanami has always been the one in control here. it’s getting dangerous now as you finger yourself faster, drawing tight circles around your clit, whining at the pure pleasure that’s accumulating in your stomach, between your legs. and you’re squirming, unable to contain the sheer amount of arousal inside you.

“shit—hah—o-oh my god, fuck, fuck—” you moan brokenly. then you use all of your willpower to force yourself to stop, both hands pulling away. your hips buck up in the air desperately, but you don’t want to come yet. you look over at nanami, chest heaving, and plead, “i-i want you, kento…”

growling, nanami grips onto the side of the bed, fingers digging into it to physically restrain himself. you can see the way the muscles of his arms contract, so strong, so tense. holding himself back.

“trust me, i want to fuck you so damn bad,” nanami says, and his voice alone is enough to make you more aroused. “you have no idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you. if it weren’t for my next appointment, i would bend you over right here and have my way with you until you’re screaming.” he swallows, gaze dark and filled with desire. “but today, it’s enough for me to just watch your pleasure. so, be a good girl for me and use your fingers to fuck that pretty pussy of yours and get yourself off properly this time.”  

holy fuck. you’re throbbing hard just from those words alone, before you even touch yourself again. you can’t possibly resist; your hand moves automatically to do as you’re told, two fingers sinking into yourself again, pumping in and out with urgency. your other hand resumes its assault on your clit, gasping and moaning, overwhelmed.

there’s no buildup this time—you go fast and hard right away, too fucking turned on to make yourself wait any longer. beside you, nanami hums with approval, always watching.

“hah—hah—ah—yes, k-kento—kento—”

“god, you’re so fucking hot,” nanami says. “find your g-spot for me. come on, baby. i want to see you make yourself come.”

you cry out when you do exactly what nanami tells you, applying pressure to the most sensitive nerves inside you. your hips are thrusting wildly, out of control, and all of the stimulation combined is bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“oh fuck, o-oh fuck—” you choke out a moan, sounding wrecked. “i-i can’t—ngh, can’t take it anymore—i’m—hah—i’m gonna—”

nanami groans. “yeah, let it out. make yourself come.” his voice is strained, eyes transfixed on your body. “that’s it, such a good girl… make a mess of yourself and come for me.”

god. god. the dirty talk has your pussy throbbing, throbbing, clenching tight around your fingers, preparing for your release. you’re trembling, so close to being pushed past the limit. so fucking close. there’s no way you’ll last much longer now.

“hng—fuck—” once again, your eyes land on nanami’s cock in his pants, bulging out, stretching the fabric thin, and it’s the thought of his cock—touching it, sucking on it, fuck, having it inside you, stretching you open and filling you up—that eventually tips you over. you moan loud. “ah, c-coming—i’m coming—”

your release hits you less than a second later. you pump your fingers, curling to your g-spot, other hand rubbing your clit urgently, and that does it for you, back arching beautifully off the bed as your orgasm crashes through your body. your mouth falls open in a silent cry. it’s mind-numbing, absolutely filthy, pussy pulsing and pulsing. you ride out the pleasure in waves, panting, feeling like you might lose consciousness from how good it is.

in you half-delirious state, slowly coming down from your orgasm, you look up at nanami. you’re both impressed and extremely frustrated at his level of self-control. throughout the entire session, he never touched himself even once, despite the fact that you know he must be aching for it, so hard that it has to be painful. and he’s gotten no relief at all, his cock still locked away in the confines of his pants this whole time, occasionally twitching and throbbing without any stimulation.

maybe it’s because the timing just didn’t work out for the two of you. maybe nanami really does have to prepare for his next client. but if your positions were reversed and you happened to be the one watching nanami masturbate, such an erotic and filthy sight at your place of work, you has no doubt that you would’ve succumbed long ago.

you wonder, what would it take for nanami to finally give in? this is the second time that you’ve had to get off using your own hands at the massage parlor. and you just came, which felt good, incredible, but you’re still left somewhat unsatisfied because what you really wants is for nanami to fuck you already.

getting up from the bed, you brush a hand against the bulge between nanami’s legs. nothing more than a graze of your fingers. but that alone is enough to make him gasp, swallowing back the moan rising in his throat.

you asks, “can you really go back to work like this?”

nanami swats your hand away, cursing. he shuts his eyes to even out his breathing before settling his gaze on you again. “fuck, are you still that horny?”

grinning, you lick your lips. “if i say that i am, will you finally fuck me?”

nanami sucks in a breath, glancing over at the clock. “you really should go now. i wasn’t lying when i said that the next client will be here any minute.”

it’s not exactly the answer you were looking for, but you know when to accept your loss and drop the subject. for now, at least.

“i’ll go for today, but you’ve teased me twice already,” you say. then you lean forward, whispering into his ear, “next time i come, i won’t be leaving until i get what i want.”

.

part 3 will be the last part! also tumblr has been buggy recently and won’t let me tag some people... i’m sorry if your name is here but you didn’t get a notification :(

tag list: @megumisdivinedogs @urlilwhore @l0rdgeosupport3rr @purple-obsidian @l0rdgeosupport3rr @minni-creations @fos-tis-zois @the-reas0n-is-y0u @cantfeelherface @rxmbzzz @lysaray @zelzablues @str4wbrrycandy @that-goth-bisexual @simping4u @iminlovewqr0w @sharks31 @pseudowho @jisoonunn @outkasti @anathemaspeaks @fushigur0slut4 @barryatsumu @d0nk3y-k0ng @shasaaa15 @wil10wthetree @maskedpacific @genshingeeksworld @itsnotmelo

(comment to be added!)

[yungistiny]

GAMEBOY ═ chapter three

[ J. Yunho ]

chapter three: better than he imagined

╚═════════

summary: yunho has no idea that his neighbor across the hall, the same one he’s had a crush on, was his arch nemesis behind a headset

warning: dom yunho, bratty/sub reader, slight orgothumophilia, masturbation, unprotected sex, spanking, choking, degradation, overstimulation, oral, sexting, more will be added

pairing: gamer yunho x gamer afab reader

genre: smut, romance, angst, drama

word count: 1.7k

chapter one

chapter two

chapter four

masterlist

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

“Fuck.”

Yunho probably should of been keeping up with the time. The hot shower he had been taking had turned cold, his hand wrapped around himself, eyes closed, mouth slightly parted as the water continued to pour on him.

He had been stroking himself for so long, always getting to that premise of orgasm only to not be able to. It was pissing him off. Yunho had jumped in the shower to clean up and rid himself of the problem Juniper had given him after the heated messages before y/n got there, only he couldn’t come.

He didn’t understand what the hell was wrong with him. “Come on.” He was practically begging himself. He tried everything. Tried picturing the faceless image of Juniper on her knees. Tried imagining y/n splayed on his bed for him. Nothing. Nothing was working. Yunho was hard as hell and he just couldn’t for the life of him get himself off.

He finally got out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, hair dripping a little but Yunho was too frustrated to care. He went to walk towards his room but there was an incessant knocking at the front door. “Shit!”

It had to be y/n. Wooyoung wouldn’t knock, he’d use his key but Yunho’s roommate was at work. San wouldn’t knock either. He would just find a way in. Yunho once caught him chilling in the living room, eating what leftover takeout Yunho and Wooyoung had.

He couldn’t just keep standing there. He couldn’t keep making her wait. Yunho speed walked to the front door, one hand gripping his towel to make sure it stayed on. “Hey…” y/n trailed off, eyes instantly going to his bare and still damp chest. Her eyes locked in, trailing down his abdomen, taking in the prominent abs, tracing them with her gaze.

Then her gaze went lower. The light baby blue towel wrapped around his waist did little to hide the obvious bulge.

I’m too big? You wouldn’t even be able to fit me in that smartass mouth of yours

Fuck. And it was big, that was clearly obvious. Y/N could feel her face flush, gaze averting back up to meet Yunho’s. His ears were red, cheeks flushed too. “Pizza.” She decided to pretend like she wasn’t just blatantly checking him out.

“Oh!” Yunho blinked, shaking his head. He’d seen the way y/n had stared at him a little too long but there was no way she was checking him out. If she liked him like that she would have made a move a long time ago, right? He grabbed the two pizza boxes out of her hands, bringing them into the open kitchen and sitting them on the counter.

Y/N followed him inside, a bag hanging from each arm, a small six pack of soju in each. “I’m gonna go get dressed.” Yunho helped her put the soju in the fridge before darting off to his bedroom. Fuck! He still had a slight boner and there was nothing he could try and do about it now.

He grabbed the tightest pair of underwear he had and the baggiest sweatpants he had, putting them on along with a plain black shirt. All Yunho could hope for is by watching Yellowjackets, a show about a group of survivors on borderline cannibalism, would make his hard on finally disappear.

And it did. They were already through the first six pack of soju, first pizza eaten and halfway through the fifth episode of the show. “She really killed her only friend!” Y/N was giggling, not that the scene was funny but she was tipsy and the scene took her by surprise.

“I told you Misty was crazy.” Yunho laughed getting up from the couch to go get another drink. He knew he was drunk, stumbling a little when he stood too fast. He grabbed a canned soda from the fridge, popping it open with one hand.

Y/N watched him in her slightly drunken gaze, she hadn’t drank as much as he had already but she was far from sober. And fuck did Yunho look tempting. His hair had air dried, wavy now and looked so soft. His neck and face was flushed red from the alcohol.

She suddenly thought about how after their little messages last night, not that Yunho was aware yet that it was her, y/n had made herself come with her favorite vibrator and Yunho’s name on her tongue. She wanted him, needed him so bad it was starting to drive her crazy.

Yunho was having the same problem. He was so damn sexually frustrated thanks to Juniper, he was on the verge of throwing all caution to the wind and just make a move. He’s wanted y/n for so long, the alcohol in his system killing any nerves or rational thinking.

And they would both blame their next actions on the alcohol but it was anything but. Y/N just looked at him too long, looked too good in the shorts she had on and Yunho loved her legs, especially her thighs.

Y/N kissed him first, his perfect cupids bow lips just too enticing. It was all hunger and lust, tongues fighting each other as Yunho pinned her down beneath him on the couch, moans escaping them both as he moved, picking her up, y/n legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her to his room.

Yunho struggled to open his door, almost losing his balance. He was too afraid to break the kiss, scared he was just drunk and passed out, imagining things. He needed this to be real.

He did break the kiss though, or well, y/n did, trailing her mouth up his throat, tongue darting across his adam’s apple. “Fuck…” she found his sweet spot and Yunho was a moaning mess once he finally got his bedroom door open.

He practically fell to his knees, dragging her shorts down her legs, helping her undress. His tongue was diving into her already wet cunt the second y/n clothes were tossed behind him carelessly in his room.

He wasted no time making her come. Sucking her clit into his mouth, two of his long fingers thrusting into her, y/n walls clenching around them as she pulled at his hair.

Yunho added a third finger, curling them and thrusting again, his fingertips brushing against that spongey little spot deep inside her that had y/n crying out his name as her orgasm hit her. Coming all over him, his tongue trying to desperately lick her back clean.

He half expected it to end then, Yunho didn’t exactly have any condoms at the moment and he was certainly too big to fit Wooyoung’s. But then y/n had to kiss him, tasting herself on his tongue and then whimper against his lips how she was on the pill.

Which is how Yunho ended up with her on top of him, his hands gripping her waist as y/n own splayed against the wall at the headboard of the bed, cunt so full of Yunho’s dick she was almost in tears. “Fuck… you’re so big…. so fucking full…”

Yunho needed to be deeper, he wanted to be buried so far inside her it was halfway driving him crazy. So he flipped her over, pinning her hands above her head, dick still buried inside her but so much deeper now.

“God…” he rested his forehead against her own, both damp with sweat. He’d wanted her like this for so long he was terrified it was a fever dream. She felt so much better than he imagined.

Yunho gripped her waist, sitting up and moving her, bringing her to meet him with every thrust. Y/N was a mess under him, her smaller hands gripping tightly at his wrists as his own grip he had on her waist tightened enough to probably leave a couple little bruises but she didn’t care, he was fucking her too good to even want to care.

Yunho was mesmerized, watching the entire length of his dick repeatedly disappear into her tight soaking walls, clenching him as y/n second orgasm was ready to pull her under, make her drown in it. He wanted to ruin her, make a complete mess of her, but even through his drunken state, Yunho assumed y/n wasn’t like that.

Y/N came again with his name leaving her like a mantra. Yunho leaned down burying his face into the crook of her neck as he chased after his own orgasm that hit him so hard he was whimpering, shuddering at finally being able to reach that release he couldn’t give himself earlier.

She would probably regret it, Yunho didn’t care. He’d go back to pretending to just be her friend. He’d act like it never happened, no matter how hard that was going to be.

He’d do whatever she wanted as long as it kept her in his life.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

San arched a brow at y/n as she tried sneaking into their apartment early in the morning. He gripped his cup of coffee, snorting in amusement when she bumped into the small table beside the coat closet. “Long night?”

Y/N bit her bottom lip, hangover hitting her hard, she was never a good drinker, much like San, a bit of a lightweight. “I slept with him.” She had woken up tangled up with Yunho in his bed, everything that happened between them rushing back and she snuck out, freaking out, because what if he regretted it?

“What?” San sat his coffee down on the coffee table, looking at his best friend like he was sure he hadn’t heard her right. “I slept with him!” Y/N repeated, exclaimed, as she walked towards her bedroom, San following behind her.

“You mean you slept together?” San surely was hearing her wrong. “Yea, I fucked him.” Y/N collapsed on her bed, staring up at her ceiling. What the hell would she say to Yunho when she saw him? She had a stream with him tonight. “That’s not just it….. I’ve kind of been, well, Juniper, has been sexting with him.”

San stood with his hands on his hips. “So you’ve been sexting him as Juniper and you fucked him as yourself?” He couldn’t believe the situation. “Ok Hanna Montana, you know he’s going to be pissed when he finds out the truth, right.”

It was a fact San was sure of. He’s known Yunho for a long time and there was no way he was going to be ok with y/n lying to him all this time, especially after sleeping with him.

Y/N closed her eyes, sighing, feeling a little guilty.

“I know.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

permanent tag list: @straycat420 @autieofthevalley @dejatiny @hannahlilibet411 @xh01bri @jintastic-yuyu @maddycline @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @wooyoungsbrat @lucid-galaxys-world @ateezswonderland @therealcuppicake @aerangi @delulu4yuyu @hyuninslutbbgirl @fireseo @insanityz @kyeos4ng

[angellic4l]

la vita è bella - s.r

in which; sunshine!bau!reader and season2!spencer see a foreign film together after work.

content: fem!reader and season2!spencer, they’re so in loveee, fluffy fluff, mentions of drinking but no one actually does it, brief mention of spencer’s germaphobia, mention of the holocaust and ww2.

a/n: i wrote this all in one go bc my draft that i’m working on is so not ready, so i apologise if it’s bad. also, la vita é bella means life is beautiful, the Italian name of the film, which is why i called the fic that. WAIT I JUST READ IT AND I NEED TO SAY I DON’T THINK ELLE IS MEAN I LOVE ELLE! anyway, kisses!!

After a pretty rare, uneventful day at the BAU - just hours of paperwork, filing, reports, and a lot of team banter - the team of profilers begin to pack up. Coats are lifted from the backs of chairs, bags slung over shoulders, chairs put under desks, and a chorus of contented sighs coming from the agents.

The team, bar Hotch and Gideon, begin to make their way to the elevator together, walking in a huddle on their way out of work while making light conversation about their plans, considering everyone’s getting out early today.

“I say we all go the bar, a few drinks, maybe some darts, and lots of fine women,” Morgan suggests with a smirk, patting Spencer on the back when he says ‘fine women’.

Elle and JJ laugh, the thought of Spencer trying to talk to ‘fine women’, as Morgan called them, an amusing thought to the two of them.

Spencer, who’s walking in between you and Morgan, pushes his glasses up his nose with his index finger, his face sporting one of his infamous looks you’ve come to know, his brows furrowed as he silently questions Elle and JJ’s laughter.

“Actually, I was going to go and see a foreign film downtown, if any of you want to come. It’s an Italian film, but I can whisper translate, called ‘Life is Beautiful’, which is kind of ironic because it’s about a Jewish man and his son becoming victims of the holocaust, but-“ Spencer’s cut off by a comment from Elle about him being ‘dorky’, his face loses the small smile he’d had while talking about the film, and his once gesturing hands fall to his sides.

You think your heart might’ve actually shattered at the sight, Spencer’s dejected look never becoming easier to see, no matter how many times you do see it. The other three agents agree to go to the bar together while you and Spencer remain silent, walking in step with each other.

“You coming, sunshine?” Morgan asks, looking past Spencer to gaze at your face, Elle and JJ turning their heads slightly to look at you stood behind them, all of you coming to a stop at the elevator doors.

“No, I think I just want to have a quiet night in. I hope you guys have fun, though,” you reject them, a small smile on your face because only you know what you’re actually going to do.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

All of you step out of the FBI building, JJ, Morgan, and Elle splitting off to head to the bar, Spencer walking through the parking lot and starting his journey to the metro station, while you wait for the other 3 to be gone.

It’s not because you’re embarrassed of Spencer, no, you wouldn’t have cared about offering in front of the others, but you knew he’d probably be teased for it, and that’s the last thing you want. He’s so sweet to everyone, unbelievably kind to you, but everyone teases him regardless. It hurts your heart every time he goes quiet after being told to ‘shut up’ or someone comments on his rambling.

Once you’re sure Morgan, JJ, nor Elle are in earshot, you hurry over to Spencer’s slender figure that’s slowly dissipating, emerging with the dark night sky, becoming nothing but a shadow as he gets further.

“Spence! Wait, come back!” You call out, quickly realising his long limbs are no match for you and he was getting further by the second.

Spencer stops almost immediately, spinning on his heels when he hears your voice. He could recognise it anywhere, your sweet, melodic voice engrained into his brain; it’s one of his favourite things about you, how each word you speak seems to be infused with honey, ringing out sweet and soft.

Although, even if your voice is sweet and soft, despite the fact that you’re shouting, adrenaline spikes in his body - Why are you shouting him? Are you hurt? Are you okay? - the questions plague his mind, increasing his heart rate faster than anything ever has before. That’s saying something, considering he sees dead bodies, crime scenes, and confronts serial killers almost weekly.

Spencer’s legs have carried himself over to you before he’d even processed it, his own mind had distracted him, thoughts had clouded his head, and he only realises he’s stood in front of you and that you’re okay when he hears your melodic voice again.

“Spence? Spencer? Are you okay?” You ask, brows furrowed ever so slightly and pink lips pouted to express your concern for the brunette boy.

You didn’t ask him to ‘snap out of it’, make a joke about him being stuck in his big brain, or say ‘are you even listening?’. No, you just asked if he was okay. Spencer smiles softly at that, another gentle reminder that you really are an angel personified, despite his agnostic beliefs, regardless of whether he prays to a God or not, you are angelic to him.

“Yeah, yes, I’m okay,” Spencer reassures you, the soft smile on his face still there as he looks down at you. His brain catches up after he stops being dazed by your seemingly divine presence, in his opinion.

“You called me over, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s okay. Could I come and see that movie with you? I know some Italian and you said you’d whisper translate.”

Standing in the middle of Quantico’s parking lot, the pair of you clad in thick coats due to the recent spike in cold weather, your head tilted back so that you can look up at Spencer and his tilted down so that he can see you. You watch Spencer’s face go from a small smile to a full blown grin, his teeth peaking out from behind his pink lips making your heart warm in your chest, winter weather aside.

“Yeah? You’re serious?” Spencer asks, you nod.

“I’ll drive us there, no need for the metro. I’ll take you home, too,” you say, dangling your keys on your ring finger. The pair of you begin to walk to your car as Spencer explains what the movie is about, not being cut off this time.

In the car on the way there, he starts to talk about WW2, rattling off all of the details he knows about it, mainly ones he thinks will be relevant for context to the film. Smiles rest on both of your faces as he does so, his hands moving frenetically as he talks. When you know what he’s talking about, you’ll wait for him to finish before talking yourself, but mostly, you just listen to him.

Spencer stays true to his word and whisper translates the film to you, his voice in your ear something you like much more than you probably should, close proximity between the two of you because of it. His head is tilted towards you, lips by your ear but not so close that all you hear is his breath, Spencer’s very mindful of that.

At some point, you both reach for the popcorn between you without looking, his hand coming to rest on top of yours in the bucket. Suddenly, you’re very thankful for the dark room hiding the pink tint of your cheeks, completely unaware that he’s thinking the same thing.

Retracting his hand from the bucket quickly, he whispers a small “sorry,” secretly hating the loss of contact with your smooth, silky skin, warm fingers, no longer under his.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, eyes never leaving the screen in front of you for fear of him seeing the blush that’s painted your cheeks. You reach into your bag and hand him a hand sanitiser, knowing how he is with germs.

Spencer can’t help but wonder if you carry this just for him as he takes the clear bottle from his hands, reading the label as best as he can in the dim theatre and learning the hand sanitiser smells like vanilla. So do you, he notes, and he decides he doesn’t mind his hands smelling like you, in fact, he actually quite likes it.

An hour into the film, despite your best efforts not to, you succumb to sleep, the sound of Spencer’s voice in your ear every few seconds, the dim room, and how warm you are all lulling you into the unconscious state you currently find yourself in. Well, Spencer finds you in that state when your head drops to his shoulder, looking down at you through his glasses, and realising you’d fallen asleep.

He blushes at the sight of your head on his shoulder, the weight of it grounding him and sending him to some extreme height at the same time, your hair splayed over his shoulder making him smile to himself. In this moment, he decides that, despite all of the horrors he sees daily, the trauma he was subjected to growing up, and everything else in between, life is beautiful.