#it shouldn't hurt this much to be your angel

[weareuniqueandimportant]

HAVE FUN... YOU ARE A BIGOT... THAT STRATEGY CAN'T WORK WE'RE POWERFULL... OH... YOU... YOU WERE ALWAYS EVIL... WE WERE ALWAYS HURT BY YOU... ERASE OUR PAIN THAT IS WHAT YOU'VE ALWAYS DONE... THAT DOESN'T END WHO WE ARE... NOBODY CAN ERASE THAT... NOBODY HAS BEEN ABLE TO... DESPITE TRYING... AND NOBODY EVER CAN... THERE IS ONLY 1 THING THAT CAN DEFEAT US... ARE YOU A R*PIST THAT BAD...? YOU ARE...? UP TO THE GAME...? I SEE... I ALWAYS KNEW THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED... OUR LIFE HOWEVER IS ALWAYS ABOUT US... YOU CAN'T DO A THING... THAT IS EVIL... UNACCEPTABLE... CRIMINAL... IN OUR SOCIETY ONLY WE HAVE RIGHTS THEREFORE WE AND ONLY WE ARE PROTECTED UNDER SUCH CASES... UNLESS WE LIKE YOU... THIS HAS ALWAYS BEEN WHAT IS LOGICAL... EMBRACE PSYCHOSIS HOWEVER... IF THAT PISSES YOU SO <3...

[suiana]

✎ yandere! demon who is absolutely enamoured by you. you're his perfect little angel, so kind, so innocent, and oh so caring. how could you even care for a demon like him?

✎ yandere! demon who is absolutely distraught when you tell him you have to leave him, to go do some angel duties or something... what? you're just leaving him like that? after showing him what kindness feels like? oh that won't do. not at all.

✎ yandere! demon who rips out your wings, ripping you away from your divinity that you cherished with all your heart. he knows it hurts, he knows you'll hate him for a bit. but it was justified, obviously. you were going to leave him. ...not to worry! he's sure you'll love him again soon, and maybe he'll even give you some demonic wings to match with him?

✎ yandere! demon who will do anything to keep you by his side. right beside him, that's where you belong and that's how it's going to stay.

"you ruined me!"

"yeah? and I'm a demon, sweetheart. I'm selfish and i take what i want."

your chest heaves heavily, your face absolutely distraught as the demon coos at you, cheeks flushed and a lovesick expression on his face as he holds your face in his hands. you lock eyes with him, staring straight into his deluded ones, and you can't help but let out a shaky breath.

you feel disgusting.

violated.

and most importantly, naked.

you felt absolutely naked without your wings, the wings you cherished and loved over anything else. the very wings that even god himself praised. the wings that you loved with all your heart.

and you'd never see them again.

all because this demon you showed kindness to had fallen and wanted to be selfish. all because he had wanted to keep you with him. but you suppose you couldn't expect anything different. i mean, he was a demon after all.

"oh... don't cry anymore, would you? my beautiful angel shouldn't waste their tears over some lost wings. in fact... i could give you new ones. you'd look much more alluring with some demon wings."

you freeze at his words, disgust running up your throat as you register his words. why would he even suggest such a thing?!

you glare at him venomously, eyes staring straight into his soul as you let out some irritated mumbles. the demon merely purses his lips, staring back at you before cooing once more.

"why are you looking at me like that? don't like the idea?"

duh. of course you didn't like it. why would you ever want demon wings?

you were an angel for god's sake! not a demon!

you continue to glare at him, tears rolling down your cheeks as the demon hums happily, as though he didn't just tear you away from everything you loved.

"ah... my pretty angel... i really adore you with all my heart, i do. it's just, you're so... naive sometimes."

he pauses, wiping away your tears as his thumb caresses your cheek. you say nothing, not wanting to engage with him at all. what was there to say to a man who locked you out of what you called your home?

"i love you, i made that quite obvious, didn't i? yet you were still so oblivious and decided to leave. you were going to leave me alone, baby."

he mutters, tone lowering as his eyes narrow at the memory of you telling him that you were going to return back to heaven.

he hated it. hated it oh so much. in fact, he'd get rid of your ex-home in the clouds if he could. he absolutely despises all the other heavenly beings that never spared a single glance at the lower realms of earth.

"how could you do that to me hm? don't you care about me? i know you love me too... somewhere in that heart of yours, you know you do."

he mutters, looking at you with the most obsessed eyes the world could ever imagine. you felt a shiver run down your spine, your raw wounds aching as you suddenly feel your body grow cold.

"come on darling... i know you're not like those other hypocrites up there. you're leagues better than them. really don't understand why you'd want to return back-"

"well at least they didn't rip away my wings!"

you suddenly interject, feeling your annoyance building up as you chew on your bottom lip. god damnit, was this guy emotionally dense or what?

"they didn't take away the one thing i loved the most, did they? they didn't brutally mutilate my body or defile me! they didn't take me away from ny home!"

you hiss, giving it your all against him as your eyes dart all over his face for a response. you wanted to see how he would react to it. hopefully nothing too bad though. maybe just a little bit of anger, a little irritation to help you feel slightly better.

but of course, it was as though you were no longer graced with heaven's blessings, for he was more than just 'a little bit angry'.

"baby, when have i ever defiled you? i only took away your wings, didn't i? it's not that bad. you'll learn to live without them."

he mutters, glaring back at you as his grip on your face tightens considerably. you let ot a wince, eyes shutting from the intensity he held you at. but he doesn't let up, why would he when you've got him all fired up?

"i just did what i thought was necessary. i just did what i had to do to keep you with me."

the demon states firmly, looking at you as his nails start to dig into your skin, drawing blood from how hard he was gripping. but that doesn't stop him. of course it wouldn't. he first needs to get it through your head that you and him were meant to be. that he was yours just as you were his. completely, utterly, his.

"darling don't you understand? we were meant to be together. you and me, us. we fit together perfectly like a puzzle. you can't ever leave me."

with how he was repeating that, it was really starting to get to you. it was like he was drilling it into your head like some military sargent.

"and your home is with me. not with them, not up there, not anywhere else. me. got that?"

he finally lets go, sighing softly before rubbing your shoulders gently, a total 180 from how he was acting just seconds ago. you watch as the demon goes back to cooing over you, gently rubbing your arms as he sings praises about you.

all you could do was stare at him, chewing on your bottom lip as you think of how you'd critically approach this problem, just like how you always would before you had your wings torn from you.

...

none.

zero solutions come to mind.

maybe you should simply pass away? because there's no way in hell you're resigning yourself to a fate with him. both angels and demons never die after all.

[tofixtheshadows]

Id love to hear ur interpretation and analysis on falin! She’s one of my favorite characters and and I was wondering what ur thoughts on her are

Man, I struggle to think of anything I could say about Falin that others have not already said. But she's one of my favorite things about Dungeon Meshi too.

So much of the story revolves around Falin, and she's not even there. Tumblr loves to talk about haunting the narrative, but Falin might be one of the best examples of it ever put to page. She's dead. She's alive. She's dead. She's alive. She's alive but she's missing, she's alive but she isn't herself. She's dead but she might wake. She's dead but she's frozen in ice. She's alive but she's sleepwalking. They chase her ghost and they chase her body all through the story.

I think what Kui does with her is fascinating. Not just as character with a personality we can analyze, but as an object in a narrative- that's why I say she's one of my favorite things about the story, because I also mean it in a mechanical sense. As a writer, Kui's really good at misdirection- that is, setting you up to believe or expect something about a character or a plot, and then turning that on its head. It's most apparent with Kabru, but it works really well with Falin too.

Because the precious little sister is a very well known character archetype, right? So is the gentle healer. The heart of the party. The white mage girl. The damsel in distress. The martyr.

And this isn't a Laura Palmer situation, where we find out that beneath her wholesome surface there's something dark and troubled. No, Falin truly is a kind and gentle person. That isn't where the misdirection leads (and that, too, I think, is another misdirection- it's not "Plot twist, she isn't as nice as you thought!", which would almost be too easy).

The misdirection here is more about structure than about character (but also, yeah- a little about character).

What I mean is, with these archetypes firmly in mind, along with a whole other host of fantasy genre expectations, I think anyone who goes into Dungeon Meshi un-spoiled probably expects Falin's rescue to be an endgame event; at least on a subconscious level, where you're not really thinking about it but in the back of your head you're already stretching out the story to place Falin firmly in the distance. Fire breathing dragon at the bottom of the dungeon is perfect final boss material, right? Slay the dragon. Rescue the princess.

And Falin is the perfect prize in the traditional old school fantasy that the concept of the titular dungeon is a send-up to. Blonde (white), soft-spoken, sweet-natured, beloved by everyone. An angelic figure.

Maybe that's why Ryoko Kui gave her white wings.

It is sort of jarring when chapter 23 rolls around and it's already time to fight the red dragon. And it takes a few chapters, but they succeed. And then Falin's impossible resurrection succeeds. But by then you guess that this is not going to be the story you expected it to be.

I want to point out that Falin spends a lot of time getting, well, babied, post-resurrection. Marcille washes her in the bath, despite Falin stating that she's capable of washing herself. Marcille schools her about her mana use despite Falin demonstrating that she is not hurting for mana, and brushes aside Falin's explanations. Both Marcille and Laios refuse to actually tell her what happened. Laios scruffs up her hair like she's a little kid and scolds her for something she can't remember doing. Marcille explicitly calls her a little kid when Falin tries to talk about how much she's grown.

Of course I'm not saying that Laios was wrong to act like a big brother, or that Marcille shouldn't be worried about taking care of her shell-shocked friend in the bath. But the framing of it clearly shows a Falin who is struggling to be heard.

If you'd like to address the big gay elephant in the room while we're here, I want to state for the record that- whether you read her as gay or not -I think Marcille is completely oblivious during this. Because Falin is her little friend from school. Her best friend, yes, but also the young tallman student she, in her infinite elven wisdom, had to mentor and look after. Marcille has not yet accepted that Falin is an adult now, nor has she accepted that she, herself, is only barely past teenagerhood developmentally and is not nearly as mature as she believes. Of course she'd scrub Falin in the bath and fuss over her.

Falin, meanwhile, seems more than aware of her own adult body and the inappropriate way Marcille is treating it.

The mana-sharing scene is, I think, Falin trying to get a little of her own back. How do you like it, Marcille?

And she tries again in bed.

Maybe she's wondering if their relationship will change now that they're grown ups. If Marcille prefers her as a little girl, or at least as a woman who lets herself be guided like one; if Marcille will react badly if Falin keeps trying to assert herself. She also might be subtly trying to signal to Marcille that bed sharing, like bathing, carries a different weight to it when you do it as adults rather than as children.

With all this in mind, the decision to turn Falin from the precious prize they rescued into to the vicious dragon they have to slay, hits a lot harder.

Falin with a powerful, monstrous, destructive body. Falin, who couldn't even stand to cause people pain from using healing spells, slaughtering half a dozen people in brutal ways. And that's not her, she's being mind-controlled, but as an object in the story she has completely flipped. From damsel to threat.

And I love that she carries a little bit of that with her when she's resurrected again.

Because she's no longer the girl who's going to let herself be stifled by her brother's and her best friend's co-dependency, no matter how much she loves them. She's different now: stronger, eyes open, forging her own path instead of following in their wake. Falin is still going to come back to them again, but this time it won't be because they chased her. It'll be because they let her go.

[entitled-fangirl]

Breakfast is ready.

Felix Catton x reader

Summary: The reader feels sick, but Felix is going to make sure she eats breakfast.

Words: 968

Warnings: sickness, cursing

Author's note: This is kind of from an ask but I made it just about breakfast!

Masterlist

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She woke up to the blinds being opened by the maid, "Breakfast is ready."

She let out a soft groan, sitting up and stretching her arms out. Her hair was a mess, her clothes frumpeld. She looked over to see that Felix's side of the bed was empty and quite cold. He had been out for a while, and she couldn't possibly guess why he would leave her.

She pushed herself to the edge of the bed, standing onto her feet. Her head hurt, perhaps her body becoming ill, but there was no skipping breakfast. Her legs shivered, her now realizing she is only in Felix's shirt and her underwear. 

Running to the dresser, she pulls a pair of slacks. Pulling them on quickly, she throws a jumper over Felix's shirt. She tames her hair just enough to look presentable. But she takes an extra minute in the mirror, looking at the bags under her eyes. How late had they stayed up?

Throwing on a pair of socks to keep her feet warm, she quickly goes downstairs to breakfast.

Entering the dining room, she's greeted with quiet, "Morning"s. Her eyes immediately scan the table, seeing Felix look up at her too. A bright smile comes across his face at the sight of her sleepy form.

She quickly moves to sit next to him. As she sits down, she feels Felix's hand rest on her back, "You alright, angel?" He asks in a low tone.

"I… yeah. I just don't know why you didn't wake me up this morning." Her hand reaches up to her head as the headache comes back.

He lets out a soft laugh, whispering in her ear, "Well, I figured you deserve as much beauty sleep as I could give you. Seemed to work. I mean, look at you this morning. Taking my fuckin breathe away."

A smile graced her face as her cheek turned a shade of pink.

Duncan entered, "Goodmorning. How would you like your eggs?"

She grimaced, her voice coming out still quiet and hoarse from her sleep, "I'm fine, Duncan. I'm not that hung-"

"-She'll have them over easy. Thanks."

Duncan leaves with a nod.

She turned to Felix, "Why did you do that?"

He shrugs, his arm going over the back of her chair, "You need to eat."

She gives a slight pout, "I can't… my head hurts too bad."

His eyebrows furrow, "Did you sleep alright?"

She nods, "I slept fine, Lex."

He doesn't take that for an answer.

"Listen, angel. You think you're getting sick?"

"No. No. I'm alright."

He nods, deciding not to fight about it at the table. A silence ensues for a while before he decides to break it again. "Oh, angel. We were talking about the Shelley biography."

Venetia jumped in, "yeah. Do you know the story about Shelley's doppelgänger?"

She shook her head, stopping once she remembered the headache.

Felix got up from the table, going to the side table.

Venetia continued, "Shelley's housekeeper was cleaning one of the rooms when Shelley walked past the window and waved at her. So, she waved back before she realized that Shelley was in Italy…"

Felix had returned to the table, gently setting the now made plate in front of his angel for her to eat. She looked at him with a slightly disagreeing look, but knew not to fight about it at the table. 

"…And she was on the top floor of the house…"

Felix grimaced at Venetia's story, his hands moving over his girl's ears to keep her from hearing it. If it would freak him out, he knew she shouldn't hear it, "Oh, Vee. Stop, stop, stop. I won't sleep."

But she continued, "…a few hours later, he drowned."

Elspeth gasped, "oh. Oh, that's just given me goosebumps."

Felix took his hands back, considering it safe for his girl to listen again.

Farleigh stared at the paper in front of him, his voice strong and uncaring, "I heard he fucked his sister."

Sir James finally spoke up, "Oh, for God's sake!"

Felix turned, "Jesus, Farleigh…"

Oliver quipped up, "I think that was Byron."

The table went quiet, as if everyone had forgotten that Oliver was there. That quickly turned to small chatter between the adults.

Farleigh looked disgusted but Felix held an amused smile on his face, turning to her to see she had a matching one. He then pointed at her plate, as if telling her to eat it. About that time, Duncan brought out her eggs, setting it next to her other full plate. She let out a sigh, staring at the food. 

Elspeth was brought out of her talk hearing the girl's sigh. "Oh, darling. Is everything alright?"

Her eyes snapped up, her mouth opening to answer, but Felix beat her to it, "she's not feeling well, that's all."

The mother nodded, "Oh, I see. Nasty sickness going around this time of year. Take your time today, darling."

She nodded gratefully, turning back to her plate. The chattering continued and she continued to stare at the plate. Eventually, Felix brushed her arm lightly with his, his voice soft again, "Is something wrong, angel? You really must eat."

She simply stared at the eggs, feeling herself get sick just staring at them. Felix noticed it, immediately moving the plate away, "Duncan. Could I actually get some eggs just… scrambled?"

"Felix, stop."

"No. I want you to be able to eat what's in front of you. Duncan?"

Duncan nodded, taking the plate away quickly. 

She turns to see everyone staring at them. She mutters a quiet, "I'm sorry."

Felix sighs, "Don't be, angel." He kissed the top of her head as she stared at the table in embarrassment. 

Breakfast continued, Felix's arm around the back of her chair the entire time.

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[mismatched-sockss]

You're my future, past and present

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

⚶ masterlist ⚶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's when it happened.

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

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

Now he had to knock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow, it- it's been a while.”

“Yeah...”

“How long 's it been? Five years?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I'd really like that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sounds like one hell of a roller coaster."

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

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

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

“Rossi got married last year.”

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

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

“Wow... That's a lot of time..”

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

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

“...Oh”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He could tell how nervous you were when you asked him; hands and voice shaking, fingers fidgeting with Cleos leash in your lap, your eyes not daring to meet his.

"Tonight is this big bonfire at the Benson's farm, you know, the one with the apple orchard? I was thinking of going and.. maybe if you- I mean, if you are free tonight and want, uh- Would you like to go with me?"

There was nothing he'd rather do, nowhere he'd rather be.

After a short stop at your apartment to bring Cleo home and for the both of you to freshen up, you made your way to the farm. It was a fairly short drive and the roads were mostly empty as it got later, a bright full moon illuminating the way now.

When you arrived, there weren't too many people present. It felt more like a large family gathering than a big event. At a decent distance were benches placed around the huge bonfire, there was a tent where various beverages and a few food options were served. Next to it stood a truck from the fire department and an ambulance; a precaution if the fire got out of control or someone got hurt.

The air smelled of smoke and burning wood, french fries, beer and Mrs. Benson's home made apple pie.

Sorry, Mr. Benson's apple pie as Spencer learned some time after you arrived. You introduced him to the hosts and you started to talk about a new recipe for the pie filling you had tried to make and Mr. Benson explained what he would have done different than the recipe you found had stated.

The Benson's were nice people – he had met them once when he had accompanied you to the farm to get apples and honey. You had gotten closer to them since then, dropping by to help them out from time to time, especially when it was time for the harvest.

He had to catch his breath as his heart fluttered, his eyes glued to your face as he watched you talk with old man Benson. The way your eyes wrinkled at the corners when you smiled and the excited glint in your eyes, how the fire painted beautiful orange patterns on your face as the flames danced high, fuelled by the soft breeze; combined with the silvery light of the full moon shining bright. You looked ethereal.

Spencer became increasingly aware of said man's wife and her three friends, who stood a little farther away. The women were whispering to each other and kept looking over, one of them not so subtlety pointing at the both of you. They weren't talking badly, not at all; they were smiling and giggling as they were talking, nodding at what the other ones were saying, swooning with their hands over their hearts from time to time.

It could only mean one thing – and he wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed about it, or not: that he all too obviously for everyone around looked as love struck as he felt; utterly bewitched by your beauty, completely head over heels, truly madly and deeply in love with you in every way, a total goner who was worshipping the ground you were walking on.

Thank god for the warm shine of the fire, or they would be able to see the blush rising up his neck in this moment as well... He just was glad that he had finished his piece of pie before this, otherwise he'd probably stand here with an open mouth and the fork frozen in mid air as he was looking at you. Now, that would have been a good picture.

What he didn't know though, was that they weren't just talking about the smitten look on his face, but yours as well. The longing glances you shot his way whenever he wasn't looking, how you were orbiting around him like the earth around the sun, a magnetic pull to each other that not even the both of you seemed to realise you had as you unconsciously stepped closer to the other when you stood too far apart. They talked about the fact, that you looked at Spencer with such a happy and beaming smile they hadn't seen on your face in a long time.

And that they could tell how hesitant and shy the both of you were about getting closer.

It's not like he didn't want to, believe me. The urge to hold your hand or wrap his arms around you – to kiss you – was still burning in every fibre of his body and it got more and more challenging to hold back, the longer he was around you. Leaving out the tiny part in him that was still afraid of getting rejected, he didn't want to impose on you by acting on it. He didn't want to possibly make you uncomfortable, so he left it to you to initiate any physical contact.

Admittedly, this was very much a bad plan if you were doing the same and were waiting for him to make the first move. However, the universe seemed to take matters in its own hands again.

Spencer had to remove himself from of the situation for a moment to restore some of his composure and not ogle you non-stop; especially not in front of all these people. He let you know that he would get the both of you something to drink and asked what he should get for you; when he came back, Mr. Benson had left.

For some time you stayed close to the fire, until he saw you lift your hand to fan yourself some air. “Too warm?”

You let out a small laugh and smiled at him. “Yeah, it starts getting a bit too much.”

He took the now empty cup from you and with a tilt of his head he signalled you to follow him. He gave the cups back to the person behind the make-shift bar counter and you walked a little farther away, putting some distance between you and both the tent and the fire. And the people too actually, the majority had gathered close around the flames in small groups.

“That's much better”, you sighed. “I like a nice fire as much as the next pers- oh.”

Before you could finish, you lost your balance when a body collided with yours from behind. You stumbled forward and Spencer instinctively reached out to catch you – he got a hold of your arms with a firm grip on them right above your elbows as you fell into him, bringing up your own hands to hold onto his shoulders.

“Oh, dear, I am so sorry, I must have tripped over something. Are you okay?”, the voice of a woman came from behind you.

Neither of you let go of the other as you turned to face her. Spencer recognized her as one of the women that had talked with Mrs. Benson earlier and the look on her face told a whole different story than her words; that she wasn't sorry at all and that it had been deliberately planned to bump into you.

“I'm okay, no worries. Are you?”, you asked her and quickly scanned her for injuries.

“Ooh, I'm good. I'm good...”, she replied, almost in a sing-sang kind of tone and a wide smile on her lips. She snickered softly and walked away, her hand raised with a lazy kind of flick in her wrist as a wave good-bye.

The both of you watched her walk away, baffled.

“Okayyy”, you let out as you kept your eyes on her for a moment longer. “As long as she didn't twist her ankle or something.”

You turned your head, and just like earlier in front of your apartment, it seemed like you only just now realised the position you were in when your eyes met his. How close you were and that you were still holding on to each other.

Only this time, you didn't pull away.

The world around him seemed to fade away, time standing still, as he held your gaze. Your breath hitched and when his eyes flickered down to your lips, Spencer felt your grip on him tighten, subconsciously pulling him closer to you. His heart was in his throat and it beat so loud that he was sure you were able to hear it. He let his eyes wander back up and when he saw that you were looking at his lips as well, he threw all caution in the wind and just... did it.

He let go of your elbows, took your face in his hands and leaned in, hovering his lips over yours for a short moment to give you an out, to give you time to pull away, but you didn't; instead you closed the small space that was left between you.

A long and deep sigh rumbled in the back of his throat when your lips met and he pulled you closer; as you leaned into him, your hands moved higher until your fingers were tangled in his hair, slightly tugging on it.

When you pulled back – more than reluctantly, but the both of you were still in public – , you were panting, your breaths mingling as your faces were still so close to each other. Spencer kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, not quiet ready to open them yet, afraid that when he did, he would wake up from an incredibly vivid dream.

“I'm sorry”, you suddenly choked out, which made him open his eyes in an instant. Tears were streaming down your face and you took a step back, keeping him at arms length. “I am so sorry, Spencer.”

“Hey, what's wrong? Talk to me, please.” Your emotions had changed so suddenly, he didn't know what happened, what made you cry. He wasn't sure what he should do, how he could help you calm down.

“I'm sorry”, you repeated, shaking your head.

“What for?” Did you regret letting him get close to you again; kissing him? Did you regret, that you hadn't just closed the door right in his face as soon as you had seen him this afternoon?

“Everything!” you choked out. “For how I acted all the time and for leaving like that, for leaving when I did. That I didn't contact you even once. For saying all those things, it wasn't fair. It never was. You didn't deserve it. I was so mean for no reason...” You sniffled and wiped the back of your hand under your nose. “I regretted every word the moment I said it, I didn't mean any of it. I couldn't stop talking and it was like I was losing control over myself and it all just came out and-....”

“Hey, I know...” Spencer took a small step closer to you. “In that moment it hurt, yes. And it took a lot of time until it stopped hurting; sometimes it still does. But I get it. You were scared. Some people get angry and lash out at the people around them when they are scared, especially directed at the person they are scared for; everyone reacts different. It's a totally normal reaction, I don't blame you.“

A sob came over your lips, your face twisting in pain. “Please don't be like that...”

His brows furrowed, a short and sharp pain in his chest. “Like what?”, he breathed out.

“So understanding... I acted like a total bitch to you! You should hate me... Why don't you hate me?” Your voice broke and got smaller with every word.

The corners of his mouth slightly raised to the whisper of a smile and Spencer closed the distance between you, lifting his hands to cup your cheeks. He wholeheartedly meant what he said next; there was not one thing he could think of that would change anything about it.

“I could never hate you.”

“You were shot. You needed me and left you alone and-”

“I've had worse. Before that day in Texas and certainly after”, he trailed off and softly shook his head when your brows furrowed even more, pain and fear so evidently in your eyes; he could tell that you knew he wasn't talking about anything related to the break-up.

“It's okay, I'm okay.” Spencer brushed your tears away, holding your face so gently in his hands as if you'd break into a million pieces if he wasn't careful enough. By the looks of it, you may very well would. Not a risk he was willing to take.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he stopped you from asking what had happened after, by placing his thumb over your lips. “Not tonight.” Gently, he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip to the corner of your mouth. “We'll talk about it all and I will tell you everything, I promise. Just.. not tonight, okay?”

He wanted to stay in that little bubble you had created a little longer and ignore everything else but the feeling of having you back in his arms, being able to kiss and hug and touch you again, he just wanted to revel in your presence and your love. Everything else could wait; the guilt, the talking it out, the pain and especially all the bad stuff he had held back.

You pulled him closer by the collar of his jacket until there was no room left between you. For a second you fought with yourself, your eyes darting back and forth between his like you were looking for something in his gaze before you acted on what you wanted to do. Then-

“I love you.”

Before he could say, think or do anything else, Spencer dove down and pressed his lips against yours, smiling widely into the kiss. His heart was racing and he felt like a huge burden had fallen from his shoulders that he didn't even know he had been carrying. When he pulled back he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “I love you.”

He couldn't hold back his own soft laugh when he heard you giggle happily before you said: “I can't believe you still want me...”

“It's you. It's always been you and it always will be you.”

[salsakiyoomi]

“god, baby, i’ve missed you so much.”

suguru slurs, holding on to your waist tight — it was almost pathetic really, the way he came to your apartment, drunk, and now he's on his knees, clinging to you like a lost puppy.

“suguru, you shouldn't be here.” you tell him, a bit sleep, he came to your doorstep at two am after all, “you should go.”

“no, baby, please.” he begs, burying his face into your tummy and inhaling your scent, “please baby, just take me back — i missed you so fucking much.”

you bite your lip. fuck, he was tugging on your heart strings.

“suguru,” you mumble, “you shouldn't have cheated then.”

that hurts.

it's true, during your relationship, he did cheat on you, granted, it was only once, but still.

“oh god,” he slurs, his hands roaming over your backside and up to your back — he looks up at you, his eyes pleading.

“it was a drunken mistake, angel, i swear.” he pleads.

he really shouldn't have gotten drunk that night after your argument with him, otherwise he wouldn't be in this position.

“was it also a drunken mistake when you told her you loved her?” you ask, your tone hurt, “am i also a drunken mistake?” you gesture to his position — drunk, on his knees and begging you to take him back.

“no! no, i love you.” he says, “i'm so sorry, angel, please.”

you let out a sigh, your heart heavy in your chest as you run your fingers through his hair, an old gesture of intimacy that was a force of habit.

“you should go, suguru.” you say, “for my sake.”

he looks up at you, his eyes pleading, only to be met with your hurt expression, and he knew that if he pressed on more, things wouldn't go well.

his bottom lip juts out and there is a sharp sting in the back of his throat, but he couldn't refuse you, that's the least he could do after cheating on you.

“okay.” he mumbles, getting up from the floor and looking at you, his own heart heavy as well and the pain of your leaving still sharp in his mind.

there was no going back from this mistake.

[wonryllis]

𝜗𝜚 'OH' I LOVE LOVE HER?

╰ 𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗎𝗇.

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. enhypen realizing it's you 𖥔 ݁ rom-fluff, kinda poetic? LIB? fem!reader requested word count ` 1945

꒰˵ˊᯅˋ˵꒱ love how this turned out!! <3. unedited!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

he doesn't know much about love, he's never really experienced it yet. he has fallen for conventional and unconventional things, things that compliment and things that complete, he's been through the good phases and stuck through bad ones, he held on to things he shouldn't and let go of things he should.

there are a lot of lessons he has learned along every relationship he has been in the lines of yet lee heeseung doesn't believe he's ever been in love until he has been with you.

it wasn't something he knew he felt, but it was surely something he realized in the spur of a moment, in a split second of epiphany. he knew what he felt for you was something deep when he realized that yes he wouldn't hesitate to die for you, but what he wants is to live for you. it's easy to be the first to go but to hold your strength through everything and survive for someone, that is definitely love is what heeseung believes.

"baby, baby calm down i'm okay," he reassures your crying and frantic figure as you scan his injuries, ones he got from trying to protect you from a fatal fall. perhaps it was the situation or perhaps it was realisation of it all.

when he jumped to saved you all he could think about was he'd give his life if it meant you lived, but in this moment he cannot bear to see you so devastated, to think he could've left you like this? no, he's decided he is never going to do it until he can't help it and even then he'd fight to stay with his love.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

he has lived his life prioritizing his family over everything else. to him nothing can go above and beyond familial love. he doesn't really believe he can love anyone anything like he loves his family and that is a statement of disappointed in itself. if there's anything he wants to give his best for it's people who have stuck with him since day one.

bonds need to tested by time is the belief he holds dear until his world crashes into yours and time changes from something that defines to something that builds. his relationship with yours is not as long as people he's close to but however long you have spent together seems to strengthen and augment the bond.

his love for you settles into an understanding of his when finds you running through days and nights in the hospital caring for his family after a big blow. a choice to choose, not an obligation to carry out. a crack in his notions you give him a new definition of love.

"y/n? baby come on go and freshen up, i'll watch over mom," his hand rests on your head, soft caresses to wake you up after the long night you spent sitting beside his mother while he ran around for paperwork.

as you leave the room in a rush wanting to come back quickly and take his place so that he can get his rest, jay finds himself seeing you in a new light, telling his mother that he's found an angel. the angel she always told him about, the angel he loves.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍

he has spent years jumping from person to person, reveled and basked in moments of happiness and run away amidst the weights of problems. there is a price to pay for everything and love is no exception but he has yet to accept the fact of reality, the thorns that come along with the scent and beauty of roses.

love gives and love takes, love heals and love hurts. it takes several trials and a meeting with you for jake to understand that.

to him it is a conscious decision, a hard hit and an opening of eyes when he realizes you're the one for him. he has never made it work until you, coming to the conclusion in the middle of the worst argument that you're worth all the trouble. and if wants to have you by his side, he needs to fix this and he needs to cherish you.

he can see himself with you for the rest of his life, one single person he is willing to fight for. for jake sim you are a sphere of acceptance, you redefine love and endurance for him.

"one day we're gonna have kids together and i want them to see that daddy really loves mommy, i'll change for the better i promise," jake's voice softens as he hits the big realization, getting down on his knees, tears falling free. your arms slip around him in a hug and jake swears he'll do all it takes to become the one for you, he'll do all it takes to make this worth it, he'll do all it takes to have you stay. because he's found the one he loves, the one he wants to be his best for.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

he has always felt a gaping hole in his chest, a feeling of homesickness even when he is home, a feeling of vanity even when he shines bright soaring through all the achievement of his dreams. to him there's something that's always missing.

no he has never thought of love but he has never despised it either. he doesn't dwell on the possibilities of it but the absence and lack of them. until you enter his life completing him like a perfect piece of puzzle, a missing piece of him.

he realizes his love for you in bits and moments of warmth, slowly step by step as you fill the void. from helping him through his hard times and cheering him on in his good ones, sunghoon finds his home in you, a walk so long but finally arriving at it's destiny, where it's always been meant to be.

perhaps he's always longed for love and never understood it. nevertheless, park sunghoon finds it in his moments of mundanity with you. you teach him the power of the presence of love.

"my little charmie, loved your pretty banner," sunghoon leaves a wet kiss on your lips, arms going around your waist as he comes rushing to you a second after winning the championship, cameras all panned on the champion of the season but all he can see is you. you feel like a warm hug on a rainy day, a blanket of comfort near the fireplace. all the anxiety he ever felt, the pressure to be on the top, you took it all and turned it into something beautiful and enjoyable.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎

he has grown up surrounded and so bathed in love, he thinks he knows it all, he has seen it all. every version of love, and everything that exists in between. so confident he'd know it instantly, the one for him, the love of his life.

but love takes time and love find it's loopholes. someone that evokes no romantic feelings could become everything in just a turn of events. kim sunoo never believed or cared to understand that until he felt that something for you. that little upturn of sparkles and butterflies, that intense emotion kindling in his heart when he sees you in a new ambience. a single moment of revelation when he's staring at you talk about things that you love, things that he doesn't like but suddenly he doesn't mind hearing about it.

he knows he hasn't felt this way before for you, there's something different and that difference makes him rethink his entire relationship with you. you become so important to him in a split moment, love so familiar and calm yet unfamiliar and exciting.

"go on i'm listening," sunoo has his head on his hands, eyes shaped crescents, a gaze so loving anyone can see how he feels, so transparent.

the tiny flowers behind you would look so pretty on you, no- you look so much prettier than the flowers, your voice is so pretty, the way your lips move, the way your eyes light up, has sunoo always loved hearing about legos? no. has he always loved listening to you? he doesn't know but he could hear you talk forever.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

he is one who sees love in everything around. the little things and the big things. in the light and in the dark. in memories of the past and in possibilities of the future. there is not a specific instance where he realizes his feelings. to him you are the premonition of love. he knew it from the very moment he met you that you are the one he is going fall in love with. that inner instinct that instantly sparked up when you entered his life.

every day and every second it grows, it piles up, it escalates. the weight of life and the wings of love you make everything easier. one who has always given meeting one who gives back to him.

overwhelmed in an ocean of new eternal verities, a feeling so mad, blind and passionate he finds himself wanting to be bound to you by his every bone. if there's a forever then he wants to spend it with you taking walks by the river, watching the lantern festival with a smile on your faces, so sick in love it makes everyone else sick.

"i wish this wish comes true," jungwon whispers to himself as he watches you walk ahead of him, turning back time and again to tell him how far your lit lantern made with a pretty little smile on your face. he wants to see this everyday, every morning, every night till however long he can and if possible even in his afterlife and all the lives that come ahead.

to be the one to be chosen by you because he for one will always choose you in all forms of reality and at every chance,"baby wait up for me, let's go together!" hand in hand all along.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

he has always found himself struggling to express his emotions, words and actions alike. something so inherent in him, he can't seem to overcome it. the sheer desperation to get his feelings through to someone, he's never felt it. he hasn't ever felt the need to feel it. to connect so closely with another is not something he has ever been comfortable with or wanted to be comfortable with.

until you happened and riki's world went through a turmoil of sentiments, wrecking him from inside so intensely he could never go back to before. love is something he has never experienced and something he could never fathom.

it just never made sense to him, how one could feel so much solely for another. but in moments of his silence where you struggled to understand it all, he realized the importance, the willingness to learn to express his feelings.

your tears and your smiles he wanted to be the one to comfort and the one you showed your happiness to. the one you love and the one he loves.

"i've never said this before but you are so special to me, what i feel for you is something i've never felt for anyone else and i don't wanna lose you by not letting you know that. i'm wanna learn to show you that again and again,"

riki smiles through his tears letting himself be vulnerable before you, as you hold the little handmade gift he got. your own tears threatening to fall while you nod vigorously reaching forward to let him know it'll all be okay.

TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @nanabbg @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly

[multi-fandom-imagine]

A/n: Husk is fucking adorable...sidenote I wish this could have been better :/

Warnings: Knotting, bitting, marking, creampie.

"Just stay away!" Husk snapped, he didn't mean to yell at you. The cat demon hated snapping at you since you were so special to him, he did care about you.

He loved you, he just didn't want to hurt you. He's never been with anyone when he went through his ruts. What if he ended up really hurting you? What if he scared you away?

He couldn't have that, so that's why he had to haul himself off in his room. He was doing this to protect you. Know matter how painful it might be on his end.

Leaning on your palm, you sighed drumming your fingers on the table. You missed Husk, you hated knowing that he pushed you away. "Am I an idiot? Shouldn't I be with him?"

Angel Dust titled his head to the side, his lips pulling into a grin. "I think ya should toot's. Go in and surprise him...trust me. He's not gonna be able to resist ya...make sure you shake those hips he likes so much too.

Straightening your body, you gave your friend a wide grin feeling more confidant. "I think I will." Slipping out of your seat you gave him on last nod. "Thank you." Then with that you were off, Angel Dust chuckling softly.

"Good luck toots."

Nibbling your lip, you knocked against the door. A deep grumble coming from the room. "Go away!"

Sighing, you slammed your fist against the door away. "Let me the fuck in Husk."

"You need to leave! I can't." You hear Husk rest his head against the door.

Frowning, you placed your hand on the door knob clutching it tightly. "Please Husk...I'm not going to leave you."

"Fine...I warned you." Husk grumbled as the door swung open.

The first thing you noticed were his hears flat on his head, wings wrapped tightly around his body. You can see his fur standing on end, tail twitching as Husk refused to look at you.

“You need to fucking leave before I....I-don’t want to” The demon was struggling, fangs digging into his lower lip, his nails into his palm.

Shaking your head you just gave the man a determined look, you came here for a reason, you came here to help your lover. Taking a step towards Husk, you placed your hand to make him look at you. He felt so warm, but his fur felt so soft.

“Let me help you.” Giving him a smile, Husk shifted his body as his gaze slowly met your own.

“I need to mate...I....fuck this shit is embarrassing...I don't want to hurt you."

Feeling like he swallowed hot coal he continued to speak. “You're so small”

Gritting his teeth he found that it was getting harder to him to talk, he didn’t like you so close but the man couldn’t deny by how good you smelt.

You hated this, Husk didn't talk much about this to you. You couldn't even imagine what your lover might be going through. Glancing down, let your head press into his. "It's okay Husk...I know you would never hurt me. So let me help you with this rut or whatever it is Husk. I am your lover, I do care about you. I hate seeing you in pain.”

Watching his adam's apple bob, Husk did his best to take in what you said. His wings slowly folding out. Grunting he tugged you close as his tail wrapped around your body as he lifted you off the ground.Eye's closing, he nuzzled his nose into your neck as his fangs gazed the skin. “I'm not gonna hold back now, your scent is intoxicating."

“I don’t want you to hold back, I want you to knot me Husk."

Grunting, Husk placed you on the bed, your skin growing warm. You looked up at your love through a heated gaze. Husk's chest rising and falling as his paw pinned you to the bed.

You could feel his arousal against your inner thigh, hot and heavy. A slow smile forming on your lips as you ran your fingers through his fur. A small purr rumbling through his chest as he rutted against you.

"Husk."

Hearing you say his name, the cat demon's eyes snapped opened. A small snarl escaping his lips as he tore at your clothes. A shiver running up your spine, you whimpered feeling a claw push past your folds. "So fucking wet for me."

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered grasping your wrists gently as he nuzzled into your neck again breathing in your scent. You smelled so good, it felt like a high. His tongue gliding across your neck to taste you, you tasted even better.

Sinking his fangs into your neck he was determined to leave a mark as he kept rutting against your thigh. Pulling away, he smirked seeing the red mark on your neck as his tail wrapped around an ankle forcing your legs open. "You ready for me?"

Your gaze fell to his pulsing shaft, your teeth sinking into his lip. "You sure that's gonna fit Husk...it's bigger than usual." You teased.

Letting out a scoff, Husk adverted his gaze as he slowly worked his cock. He hated feeling this nervous. You were his lover, you wanted this, wanted him. "I...it hurts then I'll stop." He muttered slowly pushing his members past your folds, a deep grumbled leaving his chest. Squeezing your legs around his hips, you could feel the wetness starting to coat his member.The feel pf his cock was making you light headed.

Trying his best to be gentle with you Husk slowly thrusted in deep in your warmth as he let out a deep grunt in your ear. Continuing to thrust deep into your pussy, Husk lent down letting his tongue glide across your nipple, his paw slowly massaging your breast as his wings involved your body.

His name spilled past your lips, you did your best to meet his frantic thrusts.

Husk biting back a snarl as he pulled away from your breast. A trail of saliva spillng past his lips as his tail tightened is grip around your ankle pulling you onto his cock as he then moved to your hips.

Your gaze taken in your lovers appearance, fangs poking last his lips. Ears flat on his head, you could feel the edge of his wings ticking your sides. 'He was so beautiful.'

Bending down, Husk nuzzled into your neck doing his best to mark you, everyone will know that you were his mate, that you belonged to him. Fangs out, he let one claw brush your clit, a shudder running through him feeling your pussy clench around his cock tightly, you were so wet, you felt so good. He could feel the spasms course through your body, knowing he was closer himself he let his fangs sink in your neck trying to draw out more cries of pleasure from your lips.

Cock swelling he anchored himself so he wouldn't hurt you.Pulling his fangs from your neck, he started to lap at the blood as he continued to thrust. His cock swelling until he finally released into your warm. Spurts of cum spilling from the tip of his cock as he filled you up with his seed.

Primal thoughts of filling you with his seed,watching your belly grow with his child, Husk was determined to make you pregnant with his kits...

You'd make such a wonderful mother.

His thrusts started to slow, the base of his cock swelling into a knot to keep the cum where it belonged. Remaining with in you, Husk bent down letting his tongue glide across the mark on your neck until he finally gave you a soft but brief kiss.

"I know, I do not say this much but I love you."

Husk muttered as he rest his head on your chest, his fur felt so soft, so nice. His eyes sliding closed as a soft purr left him.

Smiling softly you let your fingers run through his soft fur, a yawn escaping your lips. "I love you too Husk..."

You both fell into a blissful sleep, knowing or rather having a feeling that Husk's rut was far from over.

[alastorss]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor does not have a heart.

You think that most Sinners do. A form of punishment by the divine—to suffer every squeeze of pain and loneliness; to have that wretched thing in your chest just to feel human when you are far from.

Sinners deserved to have a heart more than the winners, if only to bring the ache that comes with it.

But Alastor, he has no heart.

You’ve been told that the place where he should ache and hurt the most is missing. Incinerated before he ever materialized in Hell. Lost to fire.

He was a heinous monster when alive—most think he didn’t even have one when he was human.

He didn’t know the feeling of it plummeting from your chest to the pit of your stomach, or the way it could get caught in your throat. He was a demon through and through. He would never understand what it meant to be human.

You believed it despite wanting to see the best in him.

Alastor was your friend. One of your first after manifesting in Hell. You’d like to think that he trusted you a little more than the others in his life—that you were as special to him as he was to you.

However, you could never look past the ways he took care of his shady business. How he drenched himself in blood as if it were the only cure for his everlasting boredom. You especially could not stomach the way he dismissed his other supposed “friends”.

He kept you around, but for how much longer? You would never know.

Still, you allowed yourself to be strung along by his enchanting personality. You loved him the way the moon loves the sea—yearning, wanting. But he is beaming in the sky and you are at the bottom of the ocean.

You would never know what it was like to own souls, or drink whiskey until it burned, or smile forever. The same way he would never know a heart.

That was the wall you wordlessly put up between you and him.

And he never mentioned it, never wondered why you would stand a foot away when usually you were all over your friends. You suppose that he didn’t have the same ache in his chest.

Alastor is heartless. That much, you thought you knew.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Jealousy is a petty, ugly emotion.

To think that he even has the capacity to feel it makes Alastor’s skin crawl. He thought that he had abandoned such worthless feelings long ago.

Yet here he is, watching with envy bubbling in his stomach while you drape your arms around Angel’s neck, laughing at some horribly obscene joke he cracked. You were always like this—hands never to yourself when you wanted to show your love for others.

But for him, you were reserved—hands behind your back, standing an arms length away whenever you chatted.

At first he appreciated how hands-off you were when everyone else was usually so touchy. He never had to worry that you were going to be breathing down his neck or irritating him while he tried to read his morning paper.

Now, though, it irks him.

Not only because you and him have become quite close, sharing late night conversations and admiring the dark, red sky of Hell together on more than one occasion. That alone would have been enough to allow you the special privilege of clinging to him. But he’s also grown a soft spot for you—embarrassingly soft, and now he’s stuck pouting like an toddler not getting what he wants.

Attention. Attention that says you care about him the way you do everyone else.

Alastor knows his first course of action should not be confrontation. That he shouldn't be cornering you with such a pouty, dramatic expression on his face like a child who just got told to put the toy back on the shelf.

But he can't help it when it comes to you. All inhibition is thrown to the wind.

"You're avoiding me," he accuses, static buzzing in his throat.

You raise a brow, back pressed to the bookshelf behind you. "I'm not," you tell him for what must be the fifth time.

"You are!" He narrows his eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you press, slightly irritated by his sudden attack. What is he going on about?

You think back, wondering if you'd been unintentionally ignoring the demon in any way. It's been business as usual, as far as you can remember.

"Are you really this oblivious?" He tilts his head, ears flopping to the side. "You are unbelievable, cher."

You squeak in surprise when he gathers your hand into his, soft skin raked gently by his claws. He's careful not to hurt you as he maneuvers you around.

He presses your palm firm to his chest where his heart should be. And instead of the hollow emptiness you expect, you find the chorus of his heartbeat.

It sings slow and steady, pulsing faintly beneath the pads of your fingers. You don't even realize that you've been holding your breath, as if just that minute action would cause him to draw away.

Alastor's fingers curl a little tighter around your palm and you finally suck in a sharp breath of air. A small smile settles on your face, cheeks growing warm from the contact.

"It... It's—"

"A heartbeat," he tells you, reaching down to pull your other hand to his throat. You feel the rhythm at his pulse point, the tandem beats filling you with ease.

All this time you had believed that Alastor was heartless. That he did not have the capacity to hold other people dear.

You blink at him, dumbfounded. When did he open up his heart to you?

He sighs indignantly, leaning down toward you with a strange look on his face. As he does, the pace beneath your fingers increases, pounding faster than your own.

Alastor stays there for a moment, staring at you stubbornly with his smile curled into something more exasperated. You can't decipher what kind of conflict is dripping from every part of his expression, instead too focused on trying to keep your breath.

The drumming beat coursing from his body through yours rips away from you, leaving your hands dangling in the air. He brushes off his coat, unable to meet your eyes anymore.

"Do you understand now?"

You're not entirely sure you do—if you ever can, but you nod anyway.

He coughs, his usual demeanour quickly slipping into something unprecedented. Is he... flustered?

"Very good," he says, more to himself than to you. You don't miss the way his ears flatten above his head. "Then I expect the same treatment as everybody else."

You pull your hands back to yourself as he stalks off, muttering to himself.

They're impossibly warm.

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete @squiword7 @clarakainda @heartfeltcherie @cedarrthefluffylee @alastorthirsty @queermaxwooo @readergirlstuff @alastor-simp @jyoongim @rosie-irisa2010

hey guys do u still remember me hahhagh.....

[strawb3rrystar]

Hi! I was wondering if you were comfortable doing Hazbin with a parental reader who is always sweet and calm and then the character gets hurt and reader looses it? Like, what would their reactions be to someone who is usually a pacifist absolutely destroying someone!

Part of the family.

Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Velvette, Lute x GN! Overlord! Reader

Warnings: None :3

Word count: 394

✰Masterlist

Charlie will be amazed at how quickly you switch up when she gets hurt. She's also kinda afraid of you now tho. But you remind her after her dad a lot, which she really likes. Charlie has a lot of parental figures in her life, so why not add another to the list! She probably shouldn't have doubted your strength considering you're an Overlord.

Vaggie will be shocked when you lose your shit. She'll also be shocked at how skilled you are at fighting. Sometimes she forgets you're an Overlord like Alastor. She'll insist that she's okay, but you'll still want to treat her wounds yourself. Vaggie has never really had a parental figure in her afterlife, so she enjoys being taken under your care.

Angel Dust will play off the fact that you protected him as no big deal. He obviously knew you would step in. He always tells you time and time again that he can handle himself whenever you get worried. He secretly really appreciates that you stepped in, but he'll never show it.

Husk will thank you, but will also remind you he can handle himself. He was an Overlord too, you know. You can't tell if he enjoys your affection or not. But he does, he really, really does. He'll never show it, but he loves that an Overlord is actually treating him with kindness.

Sir Pentious will feel like he's forever in debt to you for saving him. He's been in hell for a long time yet he's never met someone so willing to put themselves in harms way to help him. I think that because he benefits so much being around Charlie and the others, that he'd also benefit from having a strong parental figure like you.

Velvette will probably make an appreciation post dedicated to you after you save her. She's an Overlord too and can handle herself, but you've most likely have been one longer than she has. Vox and Val are definitely not the best father figures out there, so she needs a better role modal like you.

Lute might be upset that you saved her. She didn't work her ass off becoming lieutenant just to be protected by some demon. You probably protected her from a demon attack during extermination day, or something. She'll silently be grateful and let you live another day.

Star's notes -> All of our sweethearts who deserve to have a parental figure in their afterlives.

(Thank you, sweet anon, for your request!) (Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @alexandria-fandom @corruptcoder @astrolovedy @perfectlycraftychaos @stressedbleach @idontreallyexistyet @ghostdoodlen @roboticsuccubus83 @blood-heart22 @cirrus-sampling-sanity @calalapatapola @hazbinhottel @budozone @sugarplumz100 @marenelili @myamythos @hazbinhappy | Join the taglist

[bloddysnow]

Bite me

Pairings: Sylus x gn! Vampire Reader

"Please [name]…it feels so good," whispered Sylus, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and excitement. He was sitting on your lap. His eyes, full of admiration and passion, looked straight into yours. His lips barely trembled, exposing the tips of his teeth when he repeated his request with hope and despair.

It was such a vulgar and shameless request. The only reason for this was the fact that Sylus always liked the pain you caused him, he enjoyed a slight clouding in his head when you were too rough with him, which made his skin pale and his knees weaker, he enjoyed the fact that you had to hold him in your arms for a while until he recovered. He knew it was risky, that he was playing with fire, but it was impossible to give it up.

Your cold fingers gently touched his neck, feeling the pulsation of his artery under his skin, which made a slight tremor run through his body. This rhythm of life was so seductive, almost hypnotizing. You leaned closer. The smell of his blood filled your senses, awakening in you the instincts of a predator.

Sylus closed his eyes, completely trusting you. You could feel his body relaxing, giving himself to you completely. You knew how much he enjoyes it, and it added spice to your pleasure.

Your lips touched his neck, and you felt his body tense in anticipation. You gently licked a small bleeding wound left by your fangs. Sylus made a quiet moan, but it was the sound of disappointment mixed with desire.

His eyes opened, full of pleas and passion. You slowly strayed away, your eyes met him.

"It's dangerous for you," you whispered, gently touching his face. "You know it "

Sylus tastes too good. His skin is perfectly soft and delicate. When your teeth pierced it, there was a quiet clap, barely audible only to your sharp ears. His blood was of perfect temperature, consistency and taste, every sip was like nectar, sweet and alluring, awakening in you the desire to never stop. That's what made you dangerous to him.

"Please... I know! I know it's dangerous, I shouldn't ask for it, but I know you wouldn’t hurt me like that. [name]…I will be fine…" - Sylus assured again.

He gently kissed you on the lips trying his taste of blood on your lips. "Please [name]" he repeated again.

It's hard to restrain yourself when he kisses you like this, it seems to be worse than your hunger. You sharply wrapped your hands around his waist, attracting him so tightly that he would be afraid that you would break his spine if he didn't know how much you love him.

You kiss him as if he were all that exists in this world. Your lips faced such force that it rings in your ears. Your tongues are intertwined, their movements are becoming more desperate. He deliberately touches your fangs with his tongue, and the next moment blood fills your mouth.

Your pupils dilate when blood begins to flow through your throat, its metallic taste explodes on your taste buds. You drink it with such greed that you don't notice how drops of blood begin to flow down his chin. It leave scarlet marks on his skin, mixing with his moans and whines, which he exhales directly into your mouth.

You feel how his hands, tightly wrapped around your neck, begin to weaken. Realizing that he is already at the limit, you slowly pull away, gently licking the blood on his lips and chin. His body loses consciousness and slowly overturns back. Moonlight gently illuminates his trembling body, giving it an almost unearthly glow. You watch his chest rise and fall with each breath, his eyes are half closed and his mouth half open.

He looks so beautiful in this state, like a sleeping angel, vulnerable and beautiful. Your eyes go down a little lower, you notice a bulge in his pants and a small wet trail on it…

Masterlist

[matchadobo]

KIDD; aphrodisiac

wc: 2592

summary: kidd took an aphrodisiac but he suddenly becomes overwhelmingly sweet.

warning/s: 🔞, nsfw, fem reader, married reader and kidd, fluff seggs?

kidd rarely becomes sweet. he's so shy about it he mostly goes tsundere on you when you tease him about it. even during intimate times, kidd always go rough, far from sweet. but not enough to hurt you though. you'll always have bruises and hand and bite marks across the surface of your skin each time you two finish. he's always proud of it, not that you mind it anyways. as a matter of fact, you love it.

so it baffled you, froze up your nerves from head to toe as kidd latched onto you with the sole need of warmth and cuddles in the middle of the day.

it happened one sunny afternoon, the heat was slowly becoming unbearable as the clock approached three. you were in the middle of a conversation with one of the girls since kidd and the boys went out for a drink. yes, they do this often in the middle of the day.

it didn't occur to you that they had already returned, not before kidd crashed by the couch and grumbled on your skin as he pulled you closer in an abruptly it elicited a squeal from you, cutting you off midsentence.

"missed you." he mumbled on your skin, almost sounding unintelligible as he slurred from the liquor that wafted from his mouth. "you smell nice, really nice." he gave your shoulder a peck, nuzzling his nose deep at the your collarbones where your perfume was most concentrated.

you guys were left alone by the crewmates you were initially talking to, sensing the possible escalation of events. heat rose up to your cheeks and you tried fighting the sudden spiking of your heart rate, but his firm grip on you only made your situation worse.

"what's up, kidd? are you... did you have too much to drink?" you tried looking down to search and meet his eyes. he looked at you with a half-lidded gaze, pools of amber saturating his irises yet not a speck of soberness evident.

"somethin' wrong with snugglin'?" he cocked a brow, a pout following after. "thoughtcha like the part where i cuddle and shit. well, you're in luck, bonnie. i'm cravin' one and i don't plan on lettin' go."

where's your lover and who possessed his body at this moment? kidd would NEVER say this even at gunpoint. he always says those soft lovey dovey shit you bring up is not his thing, but he never deprives you of it of course. he just doesn't initiate it on his own. which led you to believe that he was indeed not the romantic type.

"drank this thing- 's new and the barista recommended it. 's the kind you always order so i figured tryin' it. a gin and tonic, strawberry flavoured. too tame for me at first, walked here fine. but as soon as i saw you, think it kicked in." he narrated languidly, sometimes slurring.

you snorted, from the flow of his speech and the absurdity of his claimed cause for his behavior.

"so a strawberry gin and tonic made you act all cuddly?" you asked, stifling a smile and laugh.

"not only that, dove." his flesh hand stroked the bare skin of your thigh, riding up under your skirt until it teased the thin fabric of your panties. "'s not only the cuddles i want."

spit got stuck on your throat and you coughed a bit. feeling his fingers poke at the top of your cunt made you sweat a little bit.

"w-we shouldn't-" you tried standing up, but he held you securely on your place.

"why?" his voice was gentle, sincerely curious with a genuine glint of begging in his eyes. "'s my ship. i'm the captain. you're my wife. my sweet, angel wife. anythin' wrong messin' around in 'ere?" his hands dug deeper to palm your cunt, one of his fingers poking in with the cloth rubbing inside you mildly. "you look extra nice today so wipe that frown of your face, aye? or else i will." his kisses peppered your arm down to your shoulder.

"what's gotten into you? you're suddenly so... clingy and sweet." you squirmed under his touch, furiously stifling the moan that pleads to come out of you. the pace of your heart was also parallel with the rapid thoughts in your brain. puzzling questions that were prompted by kidd's sloppy kisses down to your forearm and onto your hand, especially close to your ring finger.

kidd reached over to your ear and whispered, "somethin' in me is screamin', it's beggin' to just come out to bend you over and fuck you here in front of the crew. but at the same time, i also can't let you go because i'm dyin' for you. you're drivin' me crazy, bonnie. when your hair is tied up like that, with your damn perfume's extra pungent, and your clothes fittin' a little too tight. it is all too much for me. and maybe you're right, i had too damn much of that gin and tonic i'm starting to get real dizzy." he pinched his temples, the gruffness of his voice mediated the beat of your heart into a much faster pace as the red in your cheeks into a darker hue of red. "but i know that as a matter of fuckin' fact, i am mad for you and your body. i want to keep touchin' and playin' the hell out of it. i feel different and you have somethin' to do with it. i'm most definitely not lettin' you go."

you took a deep breath as the symptoms somehow correlate with the town's special you saw on one of the banners by the docks. "this is quite possibly the craziest thing to ever happen, but did you drink an aphrodisiac?"

"why does it matter?"

"an aphrodisiac heightens sexual desires, kidd. fucking hell, did you not even ask the bartender?" you latched off away from him, trying to sober him up. but you know damn well that's not gonna cut it. you need to fuck it out of him.

"that must be why i'm rock hard right now, or is it the way you're beratin' me?" he reached for your hand once more, stroking your knuckles down to your nails before placing a kiss on it.

you sighed heavily, running fingers through your hair. now you have to deal with his state of heat. not that you hate it.

"aaah don't go angry on me now, aye? why don't we bond a little? lately, we've got our own shit going on. 'bout time we catch up, whatcha say?" he snakes his hand around your waist, gripping firmly as he rested his head on your mounds. "maybe this aphrobullshit finally brings us together so help me out here, hm?" he dragged your hand atop the tent of his pants, his boner painfully growing big and suffocating at the restriction of his clothing.

"since when do you fucking speak like that? you're acting...kind. i'm anxious." it's a joke, but it really does unsettle you. and intrigues you.

"am i?" a smile gradually curved up his lips, studying your face as he inched closer. grinning as he found you adorable at your dubious expression. "what are you thinkin'?"

"i gotta deal with your bullshit again, huh?"

kidd chuckled as a response, scooping you up in a bridal carry towards your shared quarters. not minding the lingering and following glances that comes your way. moreso the scandalous remarks on his menacing boner he didn't give a fuck how obscene it looked as he marched across the deck. all he wanted was to gaze at your shy and laughing state.

he sat down at the edge of the bed before settling you on his lap, something different and foreignly gentle for him. he trailed kisses by the curve of your jaw, sucked softly on your pulse, and warmed his cold hands on your body under your shirt.

you recoiled a little from feeling ticklish at his light touches, if it weren't for his support on your back, you would've fell.

in hopes of servicing him too, you started grinding atop his length. but he stopped mid kiss to stop you.

"mm-mm, no need for that, bonnie. you can stay put." he started. "i want you to keep it nice and steady. keep it between your folds, aye? ain't it more intimate?"

"intimacy, huh? i didn't think you'd have any romance in you. usually, i gotta force it into you."

"hm? think you can handle it now?" he tucked your hair at the back of your ear before having a steady hold on your jaw and cheek as he connected lips with you, smiling as he did so.

sex with kidd will always be fast paced and eager. clothes don't even act as a barrier, he WILL fuck you even in it. but right now, he did everything slowly as he took his time unbuttoning your shirt. he felt your skin up, detaching his lips away from you just to plant kisses on your chest and arms.

tossing the garment away, he worked his hands up to the hooks of your bra. he clicked them off skillfully, with months or even years of practice from your past intercourses. as your breasts came unrestrained, he held each one and sucked on the bundle of nerves one after the other.

you swallowed hardly, pressing his head further in your chest. the sound and feel of his kisses messed with your mind. he was carnal yet calm, he had you under a firm grip yet his touch and movements were soft. he didn't bite you as hard as he usually does and instead focused on making you feel good.

he stood up and turned around while still carrying you in a stable manner, his lips still glued on peppering your chest. he then placed you down the mattress; yes, placed you down gently at that. as oppose to what he usually does, which is throw you down the bed. not that you mind that bit, adds a bit of spiciness in your bedroom adventures. but his tenderness has somehow tinged at the way your heart beats.

"you're a little too gentle now, it's scaring me." you remarked, giggling a little at the way he smiled back. "part of me thought all you knew was to slam me down the bed."

"seems like you miscalculated. enjoy it while it lasts, aye?" he carried on giving service to you as he lets his kisses cascade down your abdomen, pinching your skin a little at the squishy parts.

kidd slid your skirt off along with your soaked panties. kissing your ankles up to your shin, and your thighs in such a soft, baby touch. his fingertips gliding smoothly down your lower extremities as he grazes his lacquered nails gingerly down your sides. as if he's exploring your body the first time.

"i-it tickles!" you squealed a little, knees folding as his touch scratched a laugh out of you.

he smiled against your skin while he neared your cunt. he placed his hands on your groin and started kissing your sopping core vertically. he closed his eyes, soaking in the flavor of you. you threw your head back and shut your eyes, tugging on his hair as he retained his relaxed pace in drinking you up.

but his hands kept grazing tenderly across your body. he can't get enough of touching you it seems. until he finally lost his patience, not even letting you cum. he stood up and gave his length a few pumps, spitting on it to lube it up.

"really? missionary?" you asked, panting as you try to recover from your high and brace yourself from what's about to come. "you never do this, baby. it's fine. i don't know what craziness that gin and tonic filled you up with but i know you won't want this position to satisfy that painful boner."

"somethin' wrong with doing your favorite position? and hey, we did this plenty of times! on our honeymoon and...on your birthday..." he looked away, embarrassed at his conclusion. kidd really is an ass man after all, why else would he want to not see his favorite part of you during sexy times? much more when he's craving it tenfold?

"look, the aphrodisiac won't go away if you don't cum. or even relieved of that sexual fever you have. we can do reverse or doggy, it's oka-"

"enough yappin'. i may not see that blessed ass of yours, i can cum very well enough if i just see you whorin' over my cock, aye?" he grinned, it's like the old kidd was back all over again. except his voice was somewhat kinder, devoid of that gruff and coarse tone he always holds during sex coated with commands.

and so he began. as the first stretch came, both of you took a deep breath. no matter how much you two do it, it still drives you to the ends of the earth at how incredible he stretches you out. he settled until the head of his cock touches your cervix, making you squirm a little; a habit of his. grinning at you as he did so, proud of what he did to you.

he propped himself up with his arms so he could be close to you and you wrap your legs around his waist, pressing him deeper in you. he even choked at the feeling with his cock getting squeezed inside.

"ready?"

"since when does eustass kidd ever ask?"

then it felt like your honeymoon again. or the night you two first fucked. when he first slides it in and you two share an exhale at the impact, same as now. he made sure to press foreheads with you, looking you deep in the eye as your agape lips barely touch and brush against each other periodically.

"y-you are so fuckin' tight, we oughta do missionary often, aye?" he fisted the sheets beside your head.

"that's on you, you'd rather see my ass." you choked out, rolling your eyes as he tried adjusting himself and your walls started tightening around him. "so s-shut up and start moving."

he laughed a little, linking fingers with you before finally pacing back and forth. he took his time sliding in and out of you, not enough to cause friction at his pace nor overstimulate you. he wanted it to be slow, to look deep in your eyes as he watched you drift into that state where you go completely stupid over how good he fills you up.

"all it took was a damn drug to make you go sweet, is that it?" you smiled, fingers latching off of his grip to reach over and hold his face between your hands.

he blushed more than usual, his eyes are a little glassy, his ears are redder, and his movements stuttered. after all, his length was throbbing a little too hard in you.

"hey, i'm sweet." he got defensive. furrowing his brows as he inched back a little, seeming to be offended at your remark. "i-i'll take you out tomorrow, dinner. maybe watch somethin'. buy you those shoes you want, or a nice dress. then we'll take a bath by the tub, buy some wine and tulips or somethin'." he looked away, hiding his face and the way he's beet red right now.

"oh my god. i'm about to get a whole barrel of that gin and tonic, kidd!"

this is totally canon i know so 😤

[mirouie]

୨ৎ 'i think you're so good, and i'm nothing like you.'

tasm!peter parker x fem reader. | wc: 2.1k

↳ warnings: none

↳ tags: fluff, slight hurt/comfort, soft peter, he's too kind for his own good, reader thinks she's a bad girlfriend, lots of pet names

↳ a/n: the fact that i wrote this, 2.1K, in one go is actually crazy because i haven't been able to do this for the past four years?? tumblr has me in its clutches. also i don't really like how it ended, but it's 11 pm and i'm in desperate need of sleep. anyway, i hope you enjoy this! send me some more peter requests and i'll love you forever mwa <3

it's early in the evening, and peter's as jolly as can be as he hustles and bustles around in your small kitchen, making dinner while you're huddled under a fluffy blanket and wrapped up in one of his old hoodies on the couch, watching him sullenly.

you're not feeling so well, but now you're feeling much worse because you'd promised peter that you would make dinner; his favorite pasta, however earlier, you suddenly felt a tad bit too woozy when you stepped out from your room after a few (about five) hours straight of your eyes glued to your work computer. he assured you that he'd have no problem cooking tonight, no problem taking care of you, but that couldn't stop you from feeling terrible. he's making his favorite by himself.

peter probably senses your eyes on him with that tingle of his (spider-sense, he says, but you think it's funnier and cuter if you say tingle) because he peers at you over his shoulder and shoots you a lovely grin. he's looking much too happy, and you think he's doing it for your sake. he shouldn't be—he's just as tired as you are, probably doubly tired, but he's doing it anyway and you know there's not much you can do to stop him.

"hey there, pretty," he calls, tearing his attention away from the sauce he'd been stirring over the stove and focusing wholly on you. he even turns and leans against the counter. you preen at the pet name out of habit. "liking the view?"

you scowl at him from under the blanket, albeit playfully, and his heart does a funny tug upon seeing the way your nose scrunches cutely. it makes him want to stomp over there and kiss you stupid, though he knows you'd end up with burnt dinner, so he doesn't risk it (he'd be too busy kissing you to remember he's cooking).

you hum—you do like the view, but it's making you a little sad. and guilty. "i'm sorry, peter."

"sorry for what, babe?" he frowns.

"for feeling sick. i was supposed to make you dinner."

peter shakes his head so hard you think it might fall off his neck. "no, no, none of that, bub. no sorries. 's not you're fault you're not feeling well."

it kind of is, but you don't tell him that. "you're not supposed to be making your favorite food for yourself. it's supposed to be special, but it's not all that special anymore because you're making it for yourself," your frown deepens. "it just seems... intentional. and dull. not heartwarming anymore."

peter has to bite his lip hard to fight down the lovesick smile threatening to pull at his lips. you're being so lovely and adorable, he just wants to engulf you in a million kisses.

"it's okay, sweetheart, i've told you. trust me, i'm feeling plenty heartwarmed right now, and you didn't even need to cook me anything." with that, peter turns back to the stove, humming softly and leaving you still pouting at the back of his head.

it doesn't take long for peter to finish making dinner. you cook most of the time, but you're convinced he's the better chef between the two of you. soon, you're swept off the couch and seated at the kitchen island, blanket still around your shoulders. there's two plates of pasta in front of you and peter and he, ever the angel that he is, waits til you've had your first bite to start digging into his dinner.

you're unusually quiet all throughout the meal, and if peter notices that there's something wrong, he doesn't show it. he talks and you listen, and you're more than happy to. you don't have it in you to feel great at the moment, your unfortunate situation making you feel a bit more guilty than you should be.

peter's so nice, you think. he always is. he doesn't have a single mean bone in his body. it's a problem.

he's so nice and i'm not. i try to, but i can't always be as kind, or as understanding as him. i have bouts, i have times where i don't have the energy to act good. i get cranky when i'm tired, i lash out and say mean things, but i've never seen peter do that before and he's almost always more tired than i am. he always takes care of me when it should i who's taking care of him, and he never complains. he never complains.

you sigh, it comes out rough and frustrated. i'm such a bad girlfrie—

"what're you thinking about in that pretty head of yours, hm?" you must've been glowering too hard, because suddenly peter's fingers are curling around yours, gently prying them away from the fork you'd been gripping too hard. your half-eaten dinner suddenly looks unappealing, and it makes you feel worse than you already are.

peter's face, adorable and soft and understanding and concerned all at once, slides into view. there's a crease between his brows where they're knitted together, and you feel the urge to smooth it over with your thumb. you do so, and your boyfriend all but melts into the simple touch. his fingers slowly intertwine with yours.

"what's wrong, bub? are you feeling sicker? do you want me to get you some water? medicine?" you don't know if you want to smile giddily or slap him for worrying about you.

"no, i'm.. i'm feeling fine, pete, it's just— it's just.." you shake your head, attempting to pull your hand away from him as you feel the your eyes starting to burn, your throat closing up. you're starting to feel overwhelmed by his kindness, and the fact that you think it's stupid that you're feeling overwhelmed isn't making it any better.

"it's just?" food now forgotten, peter slips off of his chair and rounds the island to stand beside you, slotting himself between your thighs and cradling your face in his big, warm hands. you sigh at the feeling. "come on, sweetheart, you know you can talk to me. what's bothering you, hm? did i do something wrong?"

you couldn't disagree more. "goodness, no, peter, you haven't done anything wrong." you swallow thickly, but the words feel stuck on your tongue. "it's just..."

"you're too kind." you blurt out before burying your face into his stomach, embarrassed. peter blinks, confused. "i'm... too kind?"

"yes, and it's a problem," your voice comes out muffled and peter tries to pry you off so he could understand you better, but you stubbornly stay stuck to his abdomen. "you're too kind, and i'm not."

peter laughs, disbelieving. you think you're not kind? impossible.

whoever put that thought in your head, your boyfriend needs to have a word with them now.

"baby," peter's voice is saccharine sweet as he speaks, and you feel equal parts ashamed and infatuated. "baby, look at me."

you go, albeit a little hesitant. he thinks you're being ridiculous right now, acting all shy and nervous because you think he's too kind. ridiculous.

he wraps his arms around your neck so you're forced to rest your chin on his stomach, stuck looking at him in the eye. he sees your eyes flit nervously, heavy with guilt that's not supposed to even be there. he sighs. he tucks a stray hair behind your ear. "what makes you think you're not kind, y/n?"

you shrug, trying to look away but his fingers only tilt your face back towards him. useless. "i don't know. i'm just... i'm just not, pete."

"why not?"

"because—" you're starting to get frustrated. "because i didn't make you dinner when i was supposed to tonight! i get mad and i yell, i complain about everything when i get tired, i'm stubborn and i don't listen to you sometimes. i don't treat you well enough like i'm supposed to, and i just don't understand why you're with me! i'm a bad, bad girlfriend, and i'm nothing like you, who's so nice and kind and caring."

you sniffle at the end of your rant, and a stray, hot tear runs down your cheek. peter wipes it away before you can.

he's silent for a while. you wish he isn't, you wish that he'd agree with you.

he doesn't.

instead, he dips his head down, nose nudging yours as he presses a sweet, sweet kiss against your lips. slow, gentle; he's kind even when he kisses you. you find it unfair. he's perfect, and i don't deserve him.

"don't say that, bub," he whispers into your mouth when he pulls away, barely. "don't say that. you're a good girlfriend. the best one around."

he pecks you one, two, three times before he straightens back up, holding you closer than ever before. you don't quite understand the look he has in his eyes, but you think it's pretty close to 'hurt' and 'disappointed'. you feel terrible.

"is that what you really think of yourself, sweetheart?" peter's voice is small, a hushed whisper into the space between you. you can catch the hints of disappointment in his tone, and you deflate, thinking it's for you. you nod in the tiniest movement, looking away. you feel like crying again.

"oh, y/n."

strong arms weave under you and pull you into a bone-crushing hug, peter's face buried in your shoulder. you hug him back, and you squeal and wrap your legs around his waist as he hoists you out of your chair, crossing the three steps from the kitchen to the living room and falling into the couch. you grunt as you're buried under him, but you don't make a move to push him off and neither does he.

you stay as you are for a few moments, the soft breaths falling from peter's lips and brushing against your skin the only sounds filling the empty air. you're nervous—he hasn't said anything yet, and you think he might actually be mad at you.

until, "baby."

you hum, fingers gently squeezing at the nape of his neck.

"you're not a bad girlfriend."

"am i?"

"no, you're not. you're not a bad girlfriend, and you never will be." peter pulls himself away from you to look you in the face. you're almost shocked at the conviction spread across his features. you don't think you've seen him this serious in a while.

"you don't even know how well you treat me. do you know, that when i come home and i see you just standing there, i feel loads better like i haven't been tired all day? do you know that when you kiss me and hug me and tell me you love me, it's more than enough to make me feel more well-rested than when i sleep? trust me, baby, it really feels like that."

"and you say that you get mad and you yell and complain, and that's okay. that's okay, sweetheart, because it's normal. you're not some robot whose not supposed to feel anything. you're allowed to get mad, and you're allowed to not feel happy or nice when you don't want to."

you blink at him, at a loss for words. peter takes that as a sign to continue.

"i feel like that sometimes, too. when i'm tired, i get cranky and upset over the smallest things. i feel like tearing my hair out and breaking something."

you frown. "no, you don't. i've never seen you like that before."

"just because you haven't seen me get angry doesn't mean it hasn't happened before, honey," peter chuckles. "i get mad plenty of times."

suddenly, you're feeling embarrassed. he's right; you're allowed to not be nice and so is he. it just so happens that he's around to witness you during times like those, and he chooses not be around you during his own time when he's not feeling all that nice.

you sigh. with all things concerning you, he's as caring as can be.

"i'm sorry, pete, i didn't mean to feel like this," you say, looking up at him to see the same lovelorn grin he's always sporting around you. "what'd i just say, hm?" he says it all snarky and playfully snooty you have to laugh. "it's okay to feel that way. i'm holding nothing against you, babe."

"even when i ruined dinner?"

"you're still on about that? honestly, honey, i've forgotten that we even ate dinner at this point."

you roll your eyes. he smiles again. "but was the pasta good, though?"

"very. now come here and let me kiss you in apology."

"i've already told you that there's no need to be sorry, but if you insist."

peter flops back down and you trap him in his arms for the rest of the evening, smothering him with your love. he doesn't complain a single bit.

© mirouie ; do not copy, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[introloves]

yes please we can talk about that. or how he definitely traces his other hand over the bulge of your throat when his pelvis is pressed against your face, feeling himself through your flesh ): he squeezes at it a little and you sputter and push him off and he laughs ))):

MY GOD. he laughs, laughs at the way you swat his hand away and there's still a mess of precum and drool, frothy and bubbly connecting the tip of his angry- stupidly hard cock and your poor swollen lips.

think's its endearing when you whine and look up at him like he's betrayed you- leans in with a huff that sounds like something more like a giggle before placing a kiss to your forehead before reaching back to you. teasing the tip of his cock against the lips you've now tucked into your mouth to prevent him from sliding inside. shaking your head and feeling it paint a line of drool and pre against your check before he stops that giggling lilt.

wondering where his sweet girl's gone. you've promised him over and over you like it when he's mean. think's its silly that this is what has you acting like a kicked puppy. but it's fine- he relents. cooing at his sweet baby like he realizes what he's done.

"sorry angel. too much?" he murmurs, stomach twisting in knots when you sniffle and nod, coughing from how sore your throat is.

"ah, pretty thing. i shouldn't treat you so mean, huh?" he questions, like its the worst thing in the world. pining you down under his gaze, eyes lidded and hidden behind white lashes. the singular thought making you squirm.

knowing that wasn't what you wanted. you liked him mean. you liked it when it hurt. too rushed in your attempt to appease him, shuffling up on sore knees and pressing your cheek to his thigh to wheeze out a, "no. no- please." not knowing what you're begging for. hair scooped up before youre yanked back into place, lips huffing scared little breaths against his tip once more. this time eagerly opening your mouth, like he wasn't the one putting you through it mere seconds ago.

"there we go, there's my good girl." satoru giggles, playing the game so well.

[leonsdolly]

Wicked Game

Leon Kennedy x fem! reader

Synopsis: Leon leaves you for her, and you're not sure what to do now.

CW: nsfw 18+, infidelity, angst, suicidal thoughts, comparing yourself to her, masturbation, mentions of p in v

WC: 1.5k

“What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you…” You murmur along to the melancholy words that are floating around your room like butterflies. Actually, more like flies nearing the end of their life span - movement transitioning from an erratic flight to a lazy, almost purposeless dwindle until they’re on their backs with their legs sticking up in the air. That’s exactly how you are now that Leon’s done with you. A dead fly - no one could save me but you. Chris Isaak gets it. He gets it so well that he’s been looping for God knows how long.

Was it only last week that Leon left you for the ghost from his past? The one in red, haunting him in ways that you were oblivious to. Always bleeding red, like Bloody Mary or something. Maybe it was better if you’d feigned ignorance to the evidence. Maybe you’d still be able to call him yours if you played your role of a cross-eyed Mary jumping right into his arms with no protests, always playing it clean.

It was all because of a letter that was carefully tucked away in his desk drawer, folded and sealed with a kiss. No, literally a kiss. The bitch left her lipstick imprint in lieu of her signature. YSL, shade R1. You’d always been a Dior girl anyway. 

You swore up and down that you weren’t purposely snooping through his belongings, that you were just looking for Scotch tape. The offensive document shook in your hand as you fearfully inquired about its contents. He was stuttering and ashamed and apologetic and all the things a good man is when he’s sinned. He let you cry and scream and sink to your knees with your head in your hands like you were never going to come back up, like you could die in this position and be encased in marble. A new weeping angel.

You know in your heart that you could never equate to her in his eyes. The knowledge that he’s probably been comparing you to her throughout your relationship makes you so damn ill. Maybe you should slit your own throat in front of him and let the crimson flow over your body so you can match with her. Bleeding red all over the place, letting him see nothing but that cursed color, the way he did all those years ago in the city where it all started. The way he’d still continued to do so after meeting you and promising all sorts of things you weren’t accustomed to hearing. You suppose you can’t fault him completely, it wasn’t like he intended on hurting you; he’d tried to overcome his adversities and forge a new home for himself, one that was pink and frilly and covered him in glossy kisses after a long day at work. But ultimately, it wasn’t enough. His allegiance lay with first red, then white, then blue. 

You just miss him so damn much. You’re desperate enough for him that if he were to walk through the door right now, you’d take him back in a heartbeat. Sure, maybe you’d have difficulty meeting his eyes for a while, deep pools, murky with guilt and who knows what else. Your vision would be limited to the freckles on his neck, the ones resembling a vampire bite, but that’s alright with you. You’re familiar with the area, having kissed it so many times. You shouldn't be thinking about those little spots or anything else about him for that matter. He made his bed, and now he has to lie in it. With her. Pressed up against her with his face tucked into the crook of her neck. Oh God, now you're the one seeing red. Is there really such a thing as a red string tying two people together, keeping them bound for eternity? Hopefully not, because you're nauseous at the concept that it's always been her. She was right there beside his former bright eyed and bushy-tailed self, the version that had a vague understanding of how the world worked, before he was your solemn Leon. They trudged through the abyss together, leaning on one another for strength in the midst of a plague. You wish God would just deliver armies of locusts to devour you and him and her and the rest of the world. The end is here anyway now that he isn’t. 

Your last memory of him is that pitiful look in his eyes as he gazes at you one more time. You said I was your baby. He said a lot of things, promised you the world, and look how things turned out. It’s sickening really, how cruel fate can be. Was this fate? You’re going to tie their disgusting red string around your neck and squeeze until your head pops off like a rocket. A blazing glory, capable of stealing his attention.

The thoughts of needing to be better so that he’d be with you again swirls around in your brain, filling up your entire being until you can’t bear it any longer. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to put a ring on your finger and give you his babies and hold you close on your deathbed. Your hand twitches, muscle memory activated from all the times you slipped your hand into his, anchoring you to him. I’m so sorry… Ada and I… We’ve been through a lot together. You can’t take this anymore. But I love you more than anything in the whole world… How am I supposed to live without you? He never did give you a proper response to that, silence encompassing the air between you.

You shuffle to the bottom drawer of your dresser and fish out a wrinkled shirt that had been shoved towards the very back, away from prying eyes - navy blue with the letters “RPD” emblazoned in white across the front. You slip it on and inhale the fabric draped over your frame, protecting you, hugging you as you crawl back into your bed. His arms really were the loveliest place to be. Firm and gentle, wrapped around your torso like your very own bullet vest. Shielding you from horrors you would never have to experience, he’d make sure of that. Or at least he had, anyway. His lingering scent fills your senses like whispers in an abandoned chapel. Something familiar, a sense of comfort in your hollowed out state. It takes over your grief for a second, and when you shut your eyes tight, everything is alright again.

You yearn to hold onto this feeling, but it dissipates once your eyes open, and you're isolated yet again. Your bottom lip trembles as you squeeze your eyes shut as hard as you can, gripping onto the hem of his shirt. His arms are around you again, and the smell of him is welcomed. It elicits a natural response from your body, begging for his touch, forming a silent prayer to any divinity who will listen. Your thighs involuntarily part as you reminisce on the feeling of his face in between them, tongue lapping at everything you have to offer. Whimpers fall from your lips as your other hand travels down to slowly stroke your clit the way he used to do it. There’s my baby. You’re his baby, still so good for him. You rub your clit faster and faster as the hand that was clutching onto his shirt for dear life comes up to squeeze your tits and pinch your nipples. 

You realize that tears have been running down your flushed cheeks as you grind down onto your fingers faster in an effort to chase your high. Just like that… Sweet baby, my sweet baby. 

He's probably fucking her at this exact moment. Cock buried miles deep inside her perfect cunt, perky tits bouncing at every thrust while she moans for him. You’re going to blow your brains out. What kind of sounds does she make when she’s getting the railing of a lifetime? Something more refined than your own little whines. Is she kissing those precious freckles on his neck, giving them all the attention they could ever ask for as he lets out his own delicious noises? You weep as you continue to rub your clit while slick leaks from your neglected pussy, begging for only him to fill it up.

You’re sobbing as you feel the release building up in your core, and you're bawling as you feel your pussy clamp around the ghost of his cock. You let out a cry of both pleasure and agony as you frantically cum all over your fingers. My perfect baby.

Shallow pants escape you as you simply lay motionless, eyes trained fixedly on the ceiling of your melancholy prison. You shakily bring your other hand up to wipe away the tears that have forged new paths for themselves on your cheeks and down to your pillowcase. I love you. You’ll always be my girl.

This world is only gonna break your heart. How are you supposed to live without him? Nobody loves no one. Chris Isaak needs to shut up.

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 24﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Geto Suguru x F!Reader -> Size Kink

Summary: After returning from your trip, you found out your boyfriend is not okay. Maybe a vacation (To Venice) ;) would help. (Mentions of Deppressed!Suguru, angst, breakdowns, toothrotting fluff and comfort, Satoru being a wonderful best friend, Suguru healing) ❤️‍🩹 Basically hurt-comfort with size!kink 😭

Warnings: Angst, breakdowns, Suguru’s deranged and suc!dal and has murderUrges, Reader (us) comfort him and pull him out from it. Mentions of reader’s breakdowns, cus I mean— 🤷🏻‍♀️ Look at him!!?? Nipple-play, breeding, softsex, sensual, FLUFFY AND NICE AND SUGURU’s so Spoiling towards us it’s just 🙈

A/N: Guys I had sm fun 🥹😵‍💫🩵 writing this I swear!! Hurt-comfort is like my favorite thing in the whole wide world <33 I love to characterize Suguru & to play around with his character. *Screeches and screams* 🍨🍦 I made him yummy thank me later xx Also can we look at the images of him above 🥵 size kink BRRRR

"If you really think, you can do everything, take everything in, save people, and somehow save yourself along with the deceitful thinking that you will protect me. Then you're wrong!" Tears welled up in your eyes, the pain clearly imminent in Suguru's eyes. He looked dead inside, and no mourning was soothing your ache for your older Suguru. You just, missed him beyond beliefs… even when he was right beside you. You hoped he would response to your cry of pain, your bleeding words, but he didn't have it in him anymore. Suguru had almost, given up on himself.

Your hands found themselves clasping onto his collar, pulling him closer to you. "Suguru, look at me, I am telling you something. Can't you fucking see how much it hurts!" You screamed, losing your calm, your temper. It felt ironical to complain to him about how much it's hurting you. You can see he's got it worse; the nights full of terrors and the days full of decaying cursed spirits. You were an empath for your lover, and it was clear staying near him was subjecting you to everything he felt. He doesn't want to see you this way, desperate and hurting…

"I'm sorry, Angel." Suguru sighed, wrecked with the way you burst into tears and hugged him. Voice choking onto sobs as you earnestly tried clutching onto him for dear life. "Sugu, come back to me please come back…" You cried, wailed and eventually dropped onto your knees. The incomprehensible feeling, the heaviness of the things Suguru was going through was making you breathless.

Suguru's heart was only breaking further apart, watching you slowly scrape away in front of him. "I want to kill myself." He finally spoke up, "No, truth is, I want to kill everyone."

This was the first time Suguru was opening up, and no matter how brutal it sounded, his eyes were still kind. Maybe because it was you, in front of him. "You are a sorcerer, too, I shouldn't say this to you, but I hate those monkeys." He radiates pessimism and negativity through him. Yet, you smile a little.

"Come with me, go away with me." You held his hands, squeezing them tightly as if you were grateful they're not cold. You truly were. They were warm, they were still your Suguru's hands.

"Please, Suguru, let's go away for some time." You urged, and he knelt with you, hugging you tightly, not caring about the whimper that escapes you because of his firm grip.

"Running away, won't solve anything." He echoed, and you felt your stomach sink. Soft sniffles echoing in the room as you shook your head like a tantrum-y child.  "No, we will solve everything. You and I, we can solve everything. No matter what it is." You cupped his face, becoming stronger for him. "It's okay to feel like this Suguru, it's okay. I'm here." You nudge, watching his eyes showing signs of at least, some life in them. "Can you, not give up?" You meant on himself, you meant on everything.

To make sure, he understands… you hummed again, "makes me feel like, I'm being abandoned."

Suguru blinked at that, letting your words settle deep within. "Makes me feel like, I'm not even worth fighting for." You looked down, not having the guts to say this to him while making eye-contact. "Please, let's elope somewhere Sugu." You crooned, babying him almost. "I will follow you to the ends of the earth anyway, even if your path is changed." You hum, and with the way your pupils fixated on your hands intertwined, Suguru knows you mean it.

"Okay, maybe… I do need a little get away." Suguru smiled tenderly, partial charm returning to his eyes.

Oh it felt like rain in famine, "Good, thank you, I love you."

"I love you too, my Angel."

---

The next thing was you booking tickets to go to Europe. You urged Satoru and Yaga to not assign any more missions for Suguru. It was hard, you and Suguru were both powerful special grade sorcerers; but hey- you both had Satoru to rely on. "I told you the moment he lost weight, he wasn't doing okay." Satoru scoffed, rolling his eyes, tapping at his feet impatiently in the café you decided to meet him in. "What the fuck is up with being the one to hide things?" Satoru was pissed, why would his best friend not communicate? "Makes him feel less of a man?" You chuckle at that, you knew Satoru loved him almost as much as you did. "I've persuaded him to go on a trip with me." "You did?" Satoru was… amazed. These days, Suguru wasn't even joining in for any normal outings. Wasn't going out of his house for weeks, wasn't even meeting you. Things worsened when you left to Korea for a mission longer than 3 weeks. You had to stay there for some Jujutsu School Collaboration initiative. That's when Suguru was off his leash, truly at his worst. Taking missions more than he should, succumbing to the darkness of his mind and the curses.

"Just, want you to handle things while we're gone." You sipped onto the iced frappe you've ordered. Meanwhile Satoru ate a mochi, seemingly absent-minded and bored. "You don't have to worry about that, you know I'd do that in a heartbeat for him." He bratted, raising a brow at you. "And you…"

You smiled at that, nodding gently. It felt good to have the 'Strongest' so whipped for your boyfriend, and platonically you, as well.

The higher-ups posed a threat, as always. 'Why is Suguru Geto not on missions?' ; 'Did he get off the job of a Sorcerer?' especially the cunt-faced Principal of Kyoto. You and Satoru personally paid him a disrespectful visit at his school. Nothing he can complain against, wouldn't sit well to anger two special grades, will it? Despite showing that the Sorcerer world is only filled with people who are willing to take on the role- example: Nanami switching from corporate jobs to a sorcerer job… it was still, at the end, a disgusting, foul powerplay hidden beneath shackles of rules. If you are a special grade sorcerer, they'd do anything to hold on to you. Even blackmails are not far off the list. Emotionally draining…

---

"I have booked us a flight to Venice, baby." You sat cross legged on the swing chair Suguru's house has, fondling with your iPad and searching for hotel venues. "Venice huh." Suguru was still numbed, but at least, not he couldn't avoid you because practically you lived with him now. "Yeah, we can go to Switzerland, and also wherever you want. I hear Germany this time of the year is beautiful." You croaked excitedly, swaying your legs as he walked towards you, sitting on the chair in front of you. "Satoru told me you and I are on a vacation for months." He came directly on the point. "The trip isn't that long, is it?" He manspreaded, raising a brow.

You gulped, smiling softly, the last thing you need is him feeling 'weak'. You had to approach this carefully. "Suguru, I think you and I have done enough missions for a while. I want us to spend some time together, to ourselves." You added some degree of truth, "Also, I don't want you to keep eating curses and letting them eat you from the inside and I don't want to lose the person I love the most in my fucking life." With the way you affirmatively snapped, there was no way, Suguru would battle against it. A soft nod was all you got as a response.

"Alright, I will handle the packing. Don't want you screeching like a wild animal when you discover you forgot your charger." He leaned in, giving you a chaste peck & you giggled. "Of course."

---

The packing, the preparations, the dressing up and going to the Airport, the flight where you slept leaned against his shoulder. All went by in a tender haze of beautiful memories. Inflicted and infected by his sadness, still. Though you wouldn't mind. You're ready to accept him rotten if needed.

When you two reached Venice, the Victorian style hotel with the boats and the beautiful lakes was in fact, refreshing for him; and you. You knew it because Suguru had stopped going to your shared balcony of the house, now here he was, standing there, observing the people. The couples giggling and kissing each other, the boat rowers singing in their native Italian language, the streets with so much hustle and bustle… yet calming. You hugged him from behind, breathing in his scent. "Like it?" "Love it, my beautiful baby." He crooned back, turning towards you and pulling you closer to him by your hips. "I love you." He chanted, almost in a way that he used to when he first asked you out. These past few months were hard and rough, but if you were able to have him back, even infinitely slowly… you'd dedicate it to eradicating all his sadness.

"If you want, I can dress very Lana Del Rey today and we could make steamy love." You giggled, leaning in and kissing him softly. Suguru and you… yeah, haven't made love in a while. You'd never push him when he isn't feeling it, and naturally, someone who's suffering so much would have it at the last thing on his mind.

"You're right, how disappointing of me… I don't remember the last time I treated you, I worshipped you." He thought out loud, and you pouted. "It's okay Suguru, don't think about it like that. Think about how you're gonna make it up to me." You stuck your tongue out, giggling.

It's the way he looks at you, like he's starving and you're delectable. It's the way his eyes are loud enough with their projection of love that it quiets the world down for you. It's the way Suguru Geto breathes, that makes you love him so much you'd break.

Right now, he's doing the same thing… being himself. Hands wandering to your sides and helping you wrap your legs around his waist as he walked towards the shared bedroom of the hotel. Leaning in and kissing you passionately, shoving his tongue just to show how much he's been deeply yearning. Admiration coated in every action. "So lucked out that I have you." He smiled to himself, kissing your forehead deeply once you were nestled into the succumbing softness of the mattress.

"Same," you grin back, watching him undress you with his eyes first, and then his hands followed. You mimicked the same movements.

"I can't handle the fucking hotness!" You whined, once he was left in his pants, upper body naked for you to devour. Suguru chuckled, heat rushing through his cheeks and core as he cupped your face, kissing you once again.

The thing about you and him is, Suguru is big. He's built like a bulky man. Stretched to 6'3'', broad shoulders that'd hold two of you, hands big enough you miss almost an inch if you were to compare his with yours. Yeah, Suguru was big and you were tiny. Something that only aided to you being subbier and smaller to him. Letting him manhandle and take all the control that he wants to.

"Who do you belong to, darling?" He cooed, watching you instantly answer. "You, forever and always."

It warms his heart when he hears that, spreading your damp pussy lips with his fingers and thrusting a finger into you. It's been… long. He knows it with the way you're clamping for dear life, just on his digit. "Sh-i-t," You croak out, while Suguru hushed you with a soft kiss, slowly moving his finger in and out of your pussy. Once he felt you had accepted his finger's girth, he inserted another one. "AH god-" You whined, mewling at the delicious stretch of his thick and long fingers being coated with your essence. "You want to make sweet love and you're so worked up with the fingers alone." He chuckled to himself, stretching you out so good, curling them against the familiar sensitive spot.

Your back arched, the way your pussy clamped as if she was a slave to his hands and cock.

"Oh she's close." He cooed, "Go on, cum for me then I can ruin you with me." He kissed your pelvis, holding it down as your orgasm raked through you, approaching fiercely and shuddering your body against him as waves of pleasure took over you. "Good girl. Good little girl." Suguru praised, riding it out for you. Once the orgasm's high settled, Suguru took out his fingers and suckled onto them, eyes never leaving yours.

"Want you, so bad!" You gasped out, pulling him closer to you by wrapping your legs around him, feeling the imprint of his cock into you. "Alright alright, impatient little girl." He smirks, pushing the tip of his pre-leaking cock into you in one swift stroke. Mean, Suguru Geto is mean sometimes… especially when he wants you to be scream at the stretch only he can give you. No one else, he wants your pussy to know only how he feels. Damn he's big, and when he pushes himself balls deep, your pussy is strained beyond its limit. "Shit- s- so big Sugu." You whimper out, tearing up at the ache.

"Ssh, it's okay darling. I'm still. Adjust to me, go on." Suguru patiently waits, kissing your face all over, leaning in and kissing your breasts, suckling onto your nipples while you clamped and waited for the pain to settle in.

"Move, please…" You glance at him now, doe-eyed and insatiable.

"Of course, took you some time to adjust to me huh? Tiny little baby." He smiles, thrusting into you without relent. Your womb stops him from going in any further, your insides torn apart deliciously at the feeling of being ploughed by him. "Oh- G- oh God," words fail you, the air choked out of your lungs with how good it hurts, with how pleasureful it feels.

Suguru's hand laced around your pelvis, pressing on it gently. "Got you," He smirks cockily, holding your hand and keeping it on your pelvis, enveloped by his own as he pressed.

A shrill scream filled the room, "Oh you can sense it, can't you sweetheart? Sense how deep I reach?" You moan at the pressure, pushing you closer and closer to the edge as you hopelessly nodded. Gasping and choking on air. "God yes, Sugu- AH please- oh my- g'nna," You whimpered, while Suguru was at a rhythmic pace now. Sometimes pulling all the way out and pushing back all the way in. He loved seeing you walk the rope between pleasure and pain.

"Good girl, with the way you're holding onto me, I can sense you're close." Suguru hummed, grounding you with his kisses, his spoiled little praises.

"Go on, show me how much you missed me."

"Just like (thrust) I (thrust) missed (thrust) this (thrust) pussy-" Suguru toppled off the edge right with you, painting your insides white with his warmth. "Oh god- fuck-"

You shudder, spasming around his cock and milking him further.

"That's it, I got you. I got you." Suguru reminded, leaning in and kissing you softly, tenderly, as if you'd break if he were to touch you wrong.

"I missed you, I missed this." He mused to himself, blushing a little at the sight of you fucked out and half-lidded. You nodded, still taking ragged breaths. "I love you"

"I love you too, Angel."