#oh man it is so good to be told that your feelings are valid

[milkteafaeriie]

.

[astonmartinii]

but daddy i love him [guilty as sin part two] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader

when an unstoppable force (the sainz men when they feel aggrieved) meets an immovable object (charles and y/n)

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, marcmarquez93 and 783,409 others

carlossainz55: never forget where you came from

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user100: insert cricket noises here

user101: who on your PR team said this was a good idea?

user102: they need to be fired, sorry not sorry

landonorris: i love your dad (tell him to stop beating me at golf)

carlossainz55: if he never lets me win he's definitely never letting you win

landonorris: so unfair i thought i was the third sainz sibling :(

carlossainz55: i'm an only child

landonorris: oh-

user103: i need this man to choke i'm being so serious rn

user104: that's so unbelievably fucked

user105: the fact his dad is probably co-signing this shit is insane that's YOUR DAUGHTER

user106: also someone give lando a lil slap around he's on the wrong side of history on this one

yourusername: scandal does funny things to pride

carlossainz55: if the scandal is betraying your family that's all you

yourusername: if we're talking about betrayal then that's your specialist subject mr. i've cheated on every girl i've ever been with - and while we're on the topic of betrayal, yes i was the one who told them

carlossainz55: i've never cheated why are you stooping to lies?

yourusername: you did it right in front of my face when i was a part of this family

carlossainz55: so you've always been comfortable going behind my back

yourusername: that's the thing, when you're treated like you don't exist by your family you learn that blood is not thicker than water

carlossainz55: i can't wait for charles to cheat on you

yourusername: btw i already called marca, they know any of those allegations from you or dad are false - good luck!

user10: obvs i know they should be doing this in private but MORE DRAMA FOR ME BABY LETS KEEP THIS GOING

user107: thank you for the validation y/n i KNEW THE SHIT STIRRING COMING FROM THAT PAPER WAS THE SAINZ CAMP

user108: and they've got the nerve to be talking about stooping - the call is coming from inside the house

maxverstappen1: ugly twins

carlossainz55: really?

maxverstappen1: i said what i said and i mean what i said

carlossainz55: i would say she's not going to fuck you bro but you really never know with her

maxverstappen1: she would never, homewrecking is a trait only the male sainzs seem to have

user109: OOP

user110: max is a real lestappen queen fighting the battles he knows charles can't

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 893,405 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: if you know within one glimpse, its legendary

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user114: i love how she goes from fighting her brother in one comment section to just showing off her hot bf

user115: tbf charles does have a face you'd go to war for so i get her

user116: i'd abandon my family for that face

yourusername: finally someone who fucking gets it

charles_leclerc: you made me believe in love at first sight

yourusername: awwwwww you're such a sweet talker the REAL smooth operator

pierregasly: i can verify it was love at first sight cause the man did not SHUT THE FUCK UP about you well... ever

charles_leclerc: is it a crime to love my girlfriend?

pierregasly: apparently!

yourusername: he's too cute to go to jail :(

charles_leclerc: they'd ruin me

yourusername: that's my job 🤨

pierregasly: you keep that to yourselves

user117: does this girl need to shade carlos on every single fucking post... yeah we get it he's the only reason you're relevant but god you reek of desperation

oscarpiastri: is this carlos' burner account?

user118: are the grid just sat around waiting to be tagged in to the fight against carlos?

oscarpiastri: what's he going to do? crash into me? he does that every weekend anyway

user119: uh oh carlos oscar is finally fighting back off track what are you going to do

user120: don't worry i'm sure he'll post a selfie with lando and try the whole carlando shtick to get some more PR points

maxverstappen1: oh this was not the shit slinging post i was hoping for

yourusername: something tells me you're having way too much fun with this

maxverstappen1: yeah you might have been abandoned by your family but have YOU considered that this is letting me express all my mean girl energy off track so i am level-headed on track

maxverstappen1: actually i don't even think i'm being mean tbf

yourusername: i'm glad my suffering could be your therapy

carlossainz55: BOO HOO you're not suffering ... it's something called the consequences of your actions (read: actions being a snakey slut)

yourusername: bro over here acting like i committed fratricide

maxverstappen1: TAP ME IN

maxverstappen1: not this man talking about the consequences of actions. kids, here's a little life lesson: if you spend all your time at your current job talking about how you have a much better job waiting for you and how you're too big for this job and plant stories about your co-workers, you can't be surprised that that same job doesn't want to keep you

carlossainz55: i am better than charles

yourusername: lying is a sin

maxverstappen1: and you're going straight to hell

user121: you guys might be mourning the loss of charlos (whatever the fuck that is) but i'm celebrating the absolute shit ton of LESTAPPEN we're getting

user122: max was like oh my bff is dating charles here's my excuse to be nice about him again

user123: if we're being real here the biggest crime of this whole situation is the fact that charles can't really dig the knife in

user124: @ silvia i have maybe £4.50 and a greggs sausage roll to my name but PLEASE LET CHARLES TAP IN

f1

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,298,006 others

tagged: oscarpiastri & carlossainz55

f1: f1... the sport that gives you just as much drama off track as we do on track!

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user125: at this point even before the whole carlos ousting his sister i think oscar was about 👌🏻 this close to rocking carlos nascar style we should let him do it

user126: i will personally pay his legal fees tbh

oscarpiastri: i'm only 23 i don't need two F1-related legal cases to my name

yourusername: i've watched legally blonde about ten billion times let me represent you

oscarpiastri: yeah sounds legit

user127: THAT'S IT WE NEED PROXIMITY CHAT IN F1

user128: the way we know there was a shit talking session like no other after this race

maxverstappen1: i don't kiss and tell but well - yes!

user128: okay since this is clearly a safe space... who was there please spill mr. verstappen

maxverstappen1: ME! charles, pierre, oscar, checo, alex and george!

user128: why the fuck were the last two there?

georgerussell63: i was on official GDPA duty 🤓

alexalbon: that's a lie we're just very nosey

yourusername: they're the biggest PTA moms ever don't even lie

georgerussell63: yes i'll make allergy friendly cupcakes for the bake sale but i'll also spit in them and gossip about your cheating husband - sorry about it!

alexalbon: he's not

georgerussell63: i'm not

user129: carlos slagging off y/n but she's really brought the grid together

user130: george and alex being like we do not care about that but we do want the latest scoop

alexalbon: oh don't get it twisted we're firmly team y/n

user131: we even got the f1 admin in on the drama

carlossainz55: she's probably fucking them as well

yourusername: BORING get a new bit babe

carlossainz55: if i see whore i'm going to say whore

yourusername: aren't you still in that damn stewards office?

carlossainz55: tell your little lap dog to keep his front wing away from my car and maybe i wouldn't

oscarpiastri: suck my dick

yourusername: now that's true poetry

user132: oH!

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 763,409 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, logansargent & oscarpiastri

yourusername: florida !!!!!!!!!!! is one hell of a drug. no seriously what is in the water here i keep picking up these little guys everywhere i go

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user135: she's really like i AM spanish and i will colonise this grid

user136: stealing all the lil cuties for her cause

oscarpiastri: proud to be a part of this weird little circus thing we've got going on

yourusername: oh dibs on ring master

logansargent: i feel like my name is written all over tight rope walking

yourusername: okay yes skinny legend

maxverstappen1: obvs we're a cruelty free circus so no lions but if there were lions, that's me babe

maxverstappen1: SOME people could learn... cough, cough trophy hunters

charles_leclerc: idk i'll just take the one where i can sit there and be pretty

yourusername: and you would be the best at it

oscarpiastri: which one does the least? i'll take that one

user137: bro can we slow the fuck down i was just getting over osc telling carlos to suck his dick now we're talking CIRCUS?

user138: for real couldn't it have at least been cabaret i wanna see ALL of that

charles_leclerc: 🤨

carlossainz55: i think a circus is a perfect way to describe your desperate attempt to stay relevant

yourusername: don't you have a job to go to? oh wait...

carlossainz55: as if i'm threatened by a group with the likes of logan sargent in it

logansargent: bit harsh, i'm a nice guy (unlike some)

yourusername: carlos here's a little bit of a wild thing i'm about to introduce to you.... people have friends?

yourusername: also you WISH you had a face card like logie

carlossainz55: i have friends?

yourusername: no you have PR strategies, there's a difference

carlossainz55: bro learnt the word PR and ran with it

yourusername: tell me one person who would let you crash on their couch?

yourusername: QUICKLY.

fernandoalo_oficial: and don't even think about mentioning me

user139: she hit him with the bianca del rio

user140: OOP and also nando just popping up out of nowhere to diss carlos and never say anything again

charles_leclerc: the drug in question being puppy fever

maxverstappen1: tell me you didn't get a dog

yourusername: boy do i have news for you

carlossainz55: are you trying to baby trap him

yourusername: first woman in history to birth a dog you heard it here first

charles_leclerc: you simply can't be babytrapped when you would literally jump off a bridge if asked to

user141: @myboyfriend TAKE NOTES HONEY ^^^

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,745,093 others

tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri

charles_leclerc: two kids in one month? someone stop us

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user142: y/n really lost an apartment and a brother and gained about 27 f1 drivers and a dog

user143: glow up of the century some might say

liked by charles_leclerc

yourusername: soz it's a coping mechanism

charles_leclerc: and that's okay <3

maxverstappen1: anything to help with that emotional CONSTIPATION

yourusername: have you tried to live with those narcissistic and emotionally unavailable men?

maxverstappen1: you're asking the wrong person that question honey

yourusername: girl are WE good?

maxverstappen1: no

yourusername: BUT THAT'S OKAY

charles_leclerc: not to rain on this parade but i think therapy would really be a positive move here

user144: i feel bad for charles cause i know these hoes are the type to just tell each other EXACTLYYYYY when they make poor decisions

maxverstappen1: true, no smart bitches would let their bff live with THAT man

yourusername: and let their bff constantly chat shit and ruin their image

maxverstappen1: can't ruin my image if i'm spitting FACTS

user145: max will nawt let this go

maxverstappen1: i'll forget you but i'll never forgive the smallest man who ever lived

yourusername: GIRL

maxverstappen1: whoops, one sec. spoiler alert: y/n unleased poetry. trigger warning: c*rlos s*inz

olliebearman: ollie bearman erasure

charles_leclerc: GASP OLLIE I AM SO SORRY

yourusername: no he actually is he's crying

charles_leclerc: it's the pregnancy hormones

olliebearman: it's okay i swear

charles_leclerc: I'M A TERRIBLE FATHER

carlossainz55: i could've told you that for free

olliebearman: why are you in our family buisness

user146: charles is channelling all of his carlos rage through ollie oh my

olliebearman: i am a happy conduit for my father who is in the ferrari PR jail

yourusername: can we send carlos here and throw away the key?

user147: charles is really out there like keep my girl's name out of your mouth cause even the bitch who stole your seat for a weekend is my SON

user148: y/n wasn't joking about with this grid domination

user149: but also i'm glad all of this fun stuff is happening amongst all of the shit that's been thrown at her from her family

oscarpiastri: a leclerc and proud (i race like my dad and throw shade like my mum)

yourusername: the best way to be

charles_leclerc: proud of you, you're such a good dog brother :)

oscarpiastri: i've just learnt to be patient after alpine and lando

yourusername: you still took your shoes being leo's personal bathroom really well

oscarpiastri: he's too cute to be mad at

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc and 824,109 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: first mother's day with my boys

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user150: gonna enjoy this super wholesome post before... he... ruins it

user151: manifesting a y/n post without that bitter old hag in the comment section

charles_leclerc: the best mother for our fur baby and our miscellaneous other children

yourusername: only the best with you :(

charles_leclerc: ugh i love you so much

yourusername: i love you even more

user152: they're so fucking cute

user153: damn carlos i too would be angry if my baby sister and my teammate outshined my third PR relationship in six months

user154: the sainz family have generational levels of hating, but one does it for good (poetry) and one does it for bad (anything carlos ever says)

oscarpiastri: happiest mother's day to my grid mum! here's to reading them to filth xx

yourusername: OSC!! i always knew you were my favourite aussie

danielricciardo: did my enchante PR mean nothing?

yourusername: i mean i wear it all of the time... but it's osc ...

danielricciardo: true, i broke my hand before i could even think of accidentally hurting him

user155: also babe is looking so unbothered, moisturised and free we need the skin care routine

oscarpiastri: the tears of carlos sainz

yourusername: and cleansing your life of toxic family members

user156: okay clearly oscar was done with the whole "i'm so chill" bit cause since his adoption by charles and y/n he's been non stop on carlos' neck

oscarpiastri: i'm a ride or die for my mum cry about it

maxverstappen1: as the kids would say ... mother is mothering? @olliebearman did i do it right?

charles_leclerc: stop trying to steal my kids

maxverstappen1: BRO I'M TRYING TO COMPLIMENT YOUR GIRLFRIEND

charles_leclerc: that's literally my job 🤨

yourusername: tbf i'll take as many compliments as i can

charles_leclerc: are mine not enough?

yourusername: when you've got a self esteem this low, you gotta take what you can get

charles_leclerc: oh :(

user157: max and y/n fighting over who trauma dumps more about their upbringing

carlossainz55: this bit is very tiring. you'll be a terrible mother and all these people you think are your friends will drop you as soon as they know who you really are.

yourusername: you done?

carlossainz55: as you loveeeee to point out, i don't have much to lose anymore so i really wouldn't test me

yourusername: trying to make me homeless and stealing all of my money wasn't enough?

carlossainz55: charles will know the truth soon enough and you won't have us to come crying to

yourusername: i'll take those chances thank you

user158: hold ON what do you mean stole all her money

yourusername: i was never allowed my own bank account so all my earnings have gone to them!

user159: okay that's it WE RIDE AT DAWN

fin.

note: oh girl life has been BUSY!!! i just got a new job and have been looking desperately for a flat to move out to. also i've had family visiting and going here, there and everywhere. but i hope you enjoy! this was a lil more light-hearted lol (until the end) so enjoy the addition of the leclerc family lore xx

ALSO i wanted to say a massive THANK YOU FOR 6,000 FOLLOWERS love you all <3

note: hiii extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx

taglist: in comments!

[bloodmoonmuses]

come back to me | mark lee

summary: your boyfriend, mark, drunkenly recounts the day the two of you met. (mostly to prove to haechan and johnny that love does, in fact, exist. even in the most unlikely of places.)

genre: mark lee x reader, established relationship kinda... but, like, also a meet cute? young love and all that jazz lol

It’s cold outside, the beginnings of winter trickling in with bitter fervor, yet you’re warm. Or rather, being warmed by the illusion of heat that courses through your veins: liquid courage. Now on your second bottle of soju, your form feels pliant, watery even, as you sway in the wind of your friends’ joy. 

In a booth (the leather of which is crackling at the seams) that forms a sort of semi circle, sits you, Mark, Johnny and Haechan. The wooden table before you is littered in plastic shot “glasses” and fried chicken wings that have been picked clean, and the bar is quite lively despite it nearing one in the morning. You lie your head against Mark’s shoulder, lost in the feeling of his muscles tensing and relaxing repeatedly beneath it.

“You good?” Mark whispers to you, shimming slightly as if to jostle a response out of you.

The words that escape your mouth feel fuzzy on your tongue, staticky around the edges. “Never been better.”

For some reason, the night has taken a nostalgic turn, fueled by the alcohol in everyone’s system. Haechan and Johnny have been arguing about their love lives for the better part of an hour. It never fails to amuse you how much they like bickering simply for the sake of it. You tuned out about ten minutes ago when Haechan brought up Johnny’s commitment issues only to be met with a rebuttal about him using humor as a coping mechanism. Both comments clearly strike a nerve in the men respectively, deciding to psychoanalyze their exes in chronological order in an attempt to disprove the validity of one another's assertions. 

“I don’t like that we can’t make fun of Mark right now,” Johnny confesses when he’s finished talking about an ex who turned out to be a closeted sasaeng, turning his attention to you and Mark.

Haechan scrunches his nose, gazing upon you as well. “Look at you two… All cozied up- it’s disgusting.”

“Hey man,” Mark starts, “don’t blame me for the lack of love in your life.” You punctuate his declaration with a kiss on the cheek, giddy and lovey-dovey in your drunken state. “See?” 

Johnny pretends to gag.

“How’d you meet anyway?” Haechan asks, “-so I can avoid any scenario involving… that.”

“Mark hasn’t told you the story in, like, excruciating detail?” you scoff. “He’s told everyone.”

Haechan shakes his head. 

“Oh God, don’t get him started,” Johnny groans. Mark sits upright, effectively knocking your head off of his shoulder, ecstatic with the chance to relay the way you met each other in its sappy glory.

“Spring,” Mark starts. “I was seventeen, so I had just debuted a year before, and-”

The cherry blossoms. They were stunning, you remember. Glistening and quivering under the weight of all the raindrops that had accumulated on them. The sheen of puddles scattered on the roads and sidewalks... You took the bus to work, a little cafe job you worked while finishing up your requirements at the international school you attended, and during that time of year, those bus rides were some of the most peaceful times in your day to day life. 

You think back to your youth, bright eyes aged only seventeen years, and how the world then seemed filled to brim with possibility. One day in particular, a chilly one towards the end of spring, you remember watching Mark enter the bus, his boyishness evident in his untied shoelaces and clunkily carried guitar case. On his back was a spiderman backpack, you remember vividly, and his hair is frizzy from how light he’s bleached it. He comes off a bit frazzled as you watch him stumble into a seat, precariously balancing a flimsy pair of headphones on his head, and settle in it with his knees bent. 

Once he’s gathered his bearings, he takes off his backpack and retrieves a notebook and pen, placing it on his knees, and begins to write frantically- like if he doesn't put pen to paper in this exact nanosecond, the idea will leave and never return. In a world of sloth and languidness, you’re fascinated by his urgency. You take off your own headphones to hear how he sounds in the context of silence, it is seven in the morning after all, and it only draws you in further. The scratching of the pen against the paper, orchestrated by the humming that just barely escapes his lips lulling you into a state of hypnosis.

Periodically, he furrows his brows, tries out a different melody, then writes some more- over and over again, until the pattern becomes more fluid. More succinct. Like the beginnings of a fully fledged song. He’s smiling now, and you find yourself unknowingly mirroring his joy, the fuzziness of it spreading up your neck like a campfire consuming its kindling. You’re enraptured. 

You want to live inside his head. What a superpower to have; to breathe life into written language. And then suddenly, he’s stuffing his notebook into his backpack as quickly as he had taken it out. His stop must be coming up soon, you had thought to yourself. 

After putting his feet back on the ground, he gingerly places his palms against the bus window- as if to test its temperature. When deemed cool enough, he exhales against the glass, quickly etching a heart onto its foggy surface with a squeak. His fingers are calloused, that much you can tell even from across the bus, and he’s tired- if the bags under his eyes are any indication. Then, the bus crawls to a stop, and he stands. Again, you’re mirroring him instantly, body moving before your mind can catch up. It’s not your stop, yours is another three down, but you exit nonetheless, too enthralled by the boy in front of you to let him out of your sight.

You walk about a block, maintaining about a ten foot distance between the two of you, and watch him hobble down the sidewalk with his huge guitar case. He grunts occasionally, adjusting and readjusting his baggage when the weight becomes too much, humming all the while. Until, of course, he turns around, tearing the headphones off of his head, and asks, “Are you following me?!” in a frustrated huff. 

You stop in your tracks. Oh wait, you had thought, you are sorta following him. Well, the cafe is in this direction technically but-

“You’re not one of those people with a fansite, are you? Look, dude, I know we debuted last year, but I want a normal life just like-”

“I’m not a fan. I mean, not yet, I guess. Well- no. I was just… I’m not following you. Mostly.” you stammer. 

Mark scratches his head. “Then, what are you doing…?”

“You were writing a song on the bus,” you look at the ground, staring at your shoes in search of some solace, reprieve from the then stranger’s prying eyes. How did you think this would turn out any other way? “I thought maybe, you could… sing it. Like, out loud.”

Mark sighs. “Look, dude, I have practice and-”

“Right. I’m sorry for being weird, you just looked… Nevermind. Have a nice day- sorry to bother you.” You turn on your heels, in the complete opposite of the cafe you’re supposed to be going to, and make a break for it. As you trek up the hill, you shatter your reflection over and over again, the splashing of puddles beneath your feet the only sound tethering you to reality. 

“It’s not finished-” Mark starts, voice cutting through the rustling leaves and bustling city with piercing clarity.  You’re frozen, still facing away from the hypnotist behind you. “-but I could show you the idea. Because that’s what it is right now. Just an idea.”

You turn to face him. “Um. Sure. If that’s okay.”

Haechan interjects Mark’s storytelling, words warbling from his completion of a third bottle of soju for the night. “No way you actually sat down and played the song for-”

“Shh!” Johnny says, “This is the best part.”

“See, I knew you secretly loved this mushy-gushy stuff,” you say. 

Mark giggles. “So, like I was saying-”

You sit on a bench freckled cherry blossom petals and just-dried droplets of dew, knee bouncing nervously when Mark plops down beside you. Mark sets his guitar case down, flat in front of him, and opens it. Retrieving his notebook from his backpack once again, he places it on your lap, surprisingly enough. Wordlessly, he puts his guitar in his lap, throwing the strap over his neck and shoulders, and cranes his neck to re-familiarize himself with his feverishly scrawled ideas. Just before he strums the first note, he says, “Just an idea. Keep that in mind.”

Then he sings. A mix and hesitant laments of love lost, then found, yearning for the past, but hopeful for the future. But other words are not words at all. They’re more, like, messily sung runs. Like he’s sketching lightly, so he can erase later. He’s got a hook. He sings it three times, and the way his Adam's apple bobbles is now permanently etched in your mind. When he’s done, he opens his eyes slowly, assessing the damage done. He almost looks surprised that you’re still sitting there.

You whisper, voice whisked away in the gentle breeze, “I never asked your name.”

“Mark. Just Mark.”

“Nice to meet you, ‘Just Mark’.”

“What do you think? How do you feel?” Two entirely different questions, both of which hit your ear in a way that makes your stomach leap- or maybe it’s the gravelly timbre of his voice and unsure eyes.

“Good,” Mark’s eyes spur you on further, silently asking you to elaborate, “The song sounds good and I feel good.”

“Is that the only adjective you know? ‘Good’?”

“I know a lot of adjectives. I’m just… nervous. So, yeah.”

Mark grabs his notebook and returns it to his backpack, packing up his guitar as well. As he stands to leave, he turns and says, “Your name.”

“What?”

“You never told me your name.”

“_______,” you reply meekly.

“And your hand,” he urges, “give it to me.” You extend your arm and Mark delicately grasps your wrist. Then, Mark nervously scrawls his number on your palm, pen digging into your skin slightly. 

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. 

“If you have any thoughts beyond it being ‘good’, gimme a call.” And just like that, he’s gone, running down the hill to make it to practice on time.

As Mark ends his retelling of events with a wistful hum, Haechan chortles. “Yeah. You two disgust me.”

[euthymiya]

two sides of the same coin — ft. kamisato ayato

your husband is aware of your body like it’s his duty. doting as a husband should be, he takes matters into his own hands to offer you a solution that more than satisfies the both of you at the same time

contains: 2k words of pure shame ; fem reader ; periods and period sex ; cunnilingus ; fingering ; freak ayato like the usual ; reader and ayato are married (they refer to each other as husband and wife affectionately) ; ayato cums untouched

He knows. Like some sort of twisted sixth sense, Ayato always knows your body better than anything else.

He enters your chambers at half past five—it’s usually the time he’s most busy, the time when most of his important meetings run through. But he’s here, walking up to you as he shuts and locks the door behind him.

“Ayato?” You raise a questioning brow, “What are you doing here when—”

“I have cleared my schedule,” he cuts you off, eyeing you with a certain hunger you can recognize all too well. He’s quick to make his way over to you, body hovering over yours on the bed as he presses his nose to your cheek and inhales your scent.

“Cleared your schedule…” you repeat, eyeing him for a split second before you gasp, shivering as his lips nip at your jaw.

“Yes, my darling wife,” he chuckles, “it took a great deal of effort to afford myself this time. Do you not wish to be in my presence?”

“Oh, be quiet, will you?” You huff, fingers gripping at the loose hairs surrounding his face, brushing it behind his ear as he shivers at the soft touch. 

It doesn’t take long after that—his lips find yours hungrily. 

Ayato is impatient when he wants something. He’s never been accustomed to waiting for much, the spoiled thing. Whether it’s as the young master or as the head of the Kamisato clan, he has never had to ask for something twice. You are no exception. You give him what he desires just as quickly, if not quicker.  

Today is a bit different, though. Today, you pull away, stopping his hands gently as they play with the hem of your dress, stilling him from exposing your thighs. 

“Troubled, my dear?” He raises a brow, pulling away from your lips with glossed, swollen ones of his own. “I’ve already told you, there’s nothing to overthink. I have handled matters for the evening to spend my moments with you.”

“It’s not that,” you hesitate for a moment, faltering when his hand comes to cup your cheek, a delicate thumb tracing your lips. “I…I’m afraid I can’t.”

“Why’s that?” He tilts his head, making you deflate with a pout. 

“Use your brain, you treacherous man,” you huff, slapping his shoulder lightly as he gives you a teasing grin. “What happens during this time of month—I know you know. You’ve spent a good deal of time handling my moods enough to be aware.”

“Ah, I see,” he chuckles, eyes twinkling as he leans down to nip below your ear. “I’m already aware of your…predicament. It’s precisely why I’ve come to you.”

“Ayato—”

“You know, I’ve come to learn the most interesting fact the other day. Did you know that achieving orgasm helps significantly with alleviating menstrual cramps? Such fascinating wonders of the body,” he hums. His eyes narrow as he looks at you, something far hungrier than you think you’ve ever seen. “Perhaps we should test for ourselves the validity of such theories.”

“Dear heavens. Your desires have become more and more improper as the days pass, Ayato,” you scold, flustered under his heated gaze, “Would it kill you to have a sense of propriety?” 

“Oh, my darling beloved,” he grins, so wholly amused it makes you almost feel like his prey, “You misunderstand me. I’m merely a devoted husband, one who aims to keep my beautiful lady pleased. Surely, it is not a crime?”

“But—”

“Now, now,” he coos, pressing a soft, wet kiss to your cheek before he slowly makes his way between your legs, kissing at your plush thighs as he moves your skirt higher, higher, higher. Until you’re stuttering over your breaths as he presses a kiss just below your belly button. “No need to worry. I assure you, I will handle the mess. Think of it as my way of expressing my gratitude for how patiently you always wait for me, my love.”

Ayato is a man of deep, untamed desires. You’ve learned through your years of marriage. He’s taken you in hushed corners of the estate, places where anyone can hear you, walk past you, catch you red handed for your obscenity. Perhaps they have—you don’t think it outlandish for someone to unintentionally catch a glimpse of your fucked out face, hear his filthy grunts, witness the roll of his hips as his swollen cock splits you in two outside of your chambers where he should be having you. 

The people of the estate are kind enough to afford you ignorance to their knowledge if they do happen to have been unfortunate passerbyers. It’s to your relief, and you suspect it’s to Ayato’s great disappointment. 

Such a shamelessly filthy man, you think. 

You don’t have time to really dwell on your husband's improper desires, however. Not when he’s so quick to disrobe your lower half and leave your pussy bare. 

He hums, pressing a kiss to your clit, earning a shiver from you as you whimper. 

“Ayato, this is filthy,” you whine, “You’re being utterly obscene.”

“Do you really wish for me to stop?” He challenges, “I shall end this the moment you ask—go on, my precious wife. Ask me to stop and I will.”

You can’t. It’s the shameful part of this whole ordeal—your cunt is aching for him, for his tongue, his fingers, his touch. Anything. There is no stopping Ayato, but not because he is good at taking what he wants. It’s because you are terrible at denying him. Deep down, just as much as he wishes to have you, you wish to give him yourself. 

It’s a horrid realization you try to deny. But it’s a simple truth. You and Ayato are a match perhaps even Celestia themselves would be shocked by—the pure lewdness of your natures are perfectly in sync. His more bold, and yours more hidden, of course. But they are one and the same at their core. 

Ayato aches for you, and you ache to give yourself up. It’s a simple arrangement of things. 

“You are a wicked man,” you huff, hand burying into his locks as you twist your fingers around the strands and pull harshly. Like a punishment. He groans, a lewd sound that makes your walls quiver around nothing—of course, he relishes in the slight sting at his scalp from your actions. “Get on with it then,” you say without meeting his smug, humored little eyes. 

“As you wish, my love,” he says smoothly. His lips are curled in a predatory smile, eyeing you with the slyness of a fox who’s cornered a small, helpless rabbit. But even with his teeth bared, Ayato is gentle. 

He gives kitten licks to your clit, rolling his tongue teasingly over the sensitive nub as you shake and give him a soft gasp. And because you are just as good at getting what you want from the man, you look down at him with the softest, pleading eyes as you beg, “Ayato, my darling. Do spare you poor wife the teasing will you? Don’t you love me so?”

He lets out a shaky exhale at that, breath hitching as he closes his eyes and takes a sharp breath. “I believe you are just as wicked as me, my dear,” he says hoarsely. 

And then his lips are attached to your clit, sucking around the nerves as you whine, head thrown back against the pillows, hips bucking into his mouth as he moves down to lick a stripe at your folds. You should be ashamed of your dripping cunt—of the filth mingled in with the slick. But Ayato has no qualms. He’s exceedingly happy, in fact, groaning in some sick pleasure of his own as he tastes you on his tongue, the vibrations leaving you sensitive and quaking. 

“Oh, Ayato,” you moan, a high pitched little sound that makes his cock twitch in his pants. He pants into your pussy, hot breath fanning over your entrance as he rubs his achingly hard cock against the mattress, right through his pants. “Ayato, please—I c-can’t…”

A finger prods at your folds, sinking in slowly. You mewl at the intrusion, arching your back as he slips in another and gives a shallow thrust of his wrist. His tongue flicks back and forth against your clit, eyes hooded as they stare up at your broken expression. 

“Fuck,” you curse. Such obscenities are only uttered by you when Ayato has his way with you—when he strips you bare of your formalities and turns you weak against your own etiquette. “It…it feels so good, Ayato. M-more—please.” 

He chuckles, planting a wet kiss, then another, then one more against your clit before he thrusts his fingers into you again, brushing against the spongy, delicate spot in the back of your walls that has you seeing stars. You sob, tugging at his hair and pulling him closer to your cunt, grinding your clit against his mouth as he hums at the action. 

“I’m close,” you whimper, “S-so—oh, gods.”

You break. Completely shatter. Never have your walls fluttered quite like this, spasming around his fingers in the most overpowering orgasm you think you might have had. His tongue swirls along your clit, long and slender digits brushing along your walls and dragging against every sensitive ridge. He hits that spot you’re most weak to so perfectly, precise and almost cruel as he brushes his fingertips against it without mercy. 

The pleasure is so much that it’s almost too overwhelming. It makes you feel out of body, makes you shake under his touch as you let broken cries fall past your lips. 

Ayato is not faring any better. You’re everywhere. Your taste lingers on his tongue, your heat envelops his every breath, your precious sounds invade his ears. Even your thighs that squeeze around his face suffocate him with you. It’s almost enough on its own to send him over the edge himself—and when he rolls his hips against the bed, he can’t help but choke on his own groans, spilling into his pants with heavy twitches of his throbbing cock. Hot ropes of his seed soil his pants, but he couldn’t possibly care—not when you’re whining above him and tugging his hair to pull him away. 

“P-please,” you pant breathlessly, “please it’s too much.”

Sensitive, he notes. You’re more sensitive during this time than the usual others. He’ll make sure to have fun with that later—for now, he pulls away, eyes hazy and blissed as he looks up at you with such infatuated pupils. 

“You are unearthly beautiful, my love,” he whispers. “Have I ever mentioned that?”

“Plenty,” you say exasperatedly, plopping an arm over your face as you hide the flustered expression on your face. 

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your thigh, grinning as a dull, red stain is left in the wake of his lips. So filthy—but he enjoys it so deeply. 

“Then I must remind you again. You are exceedingly breathtaking—I could not hope to deserve such a marvelous sight in any lifetime.”

“Enough flattery, you evil husband.”

“Evil?” He gasps, playfully offended. “I’ve taken such great care to help you in your moments of pain. Do tell me, were my findings correct? Has it helped your pains to come undone on my tongue?”

Ayato likes taking you. You like giving yourself up. Two filthy sides of the same coin. 

You hum thoughtfully, wiggling your hips before your hand tugs him by the hair to bump his nose against your clit. “I wasn’t paying attention. Try one more time so I can be certain.”

“Ah, of course. As you wish, my love,” he breathes excitedly. 

I uh….I don’t really wanna talk about it🚶‍♀️

[restinslices]

If Aegon ii Targaryen Was A Sub

I forgot I said I was gonna post this weeks ago so here it is. Also before we begin, I feel like I gotta say that I DO NOT condone some of the shit he did in the show. This is not that type of party. I just think he has pathetic looking eyes and I’m known to make men subs. Let’s all just be horny in peace Obviously MDNI

A very needy whiny whore 

Needs attention and validation constantly 

Will actually start buggin’ if you're giving someone else attention 

And when I say “needy” I really mean that shit 

He's constantly tryna convince you to sneak away with him for a quickie. And if you're alone together? He definitely wants to fuck 

He's extremely needy and badly wants approval and appreciation but he's also such a fucking brat 

This man is a spoiled ass Prince. Are we surprised?

He's bratty in the sense that he likes pushing buttons but also in the sense that he just sometimes doesn't feel like listening to you 

Behavior that you'll have to make sure to correct 

Now when I mention anal you may wanna say “oh but I have female anatomy”. To that, I say “pegging”

Now you may wanna say “strapons don't exist in this universe” and to that I say “they have literal DRAGONS. Use your imagination and pretend they've been invented”

Now let's continue 

Idk why I feel this way but I can see him enjoying sex from behind. Especially while getting his hair pulled

Also has a thing for titty sucking 

Sucks on you while you ride him 

Or if he's bored 

Kinks and/or fetishes I can see him having are anal, barebacking, biting, breath play, dacryphilia, face fucking, free use, fingering (possibly fisting too), impact play, loud sex, name calling (whatever you wanna go by), orgasm control, orgies, praise, rough sex, and probably some other shit 

I just feel like he can easily be talked into anything. As long as he's getting pleased 

Enjoys the risk of possibly getting caught 

Turns him on even more if he's the one getting fucked 

Possibly getting caught fucking you is one thing but possibly getting caught getting treated like a whore? He'll cum from the thought alone 

Loves being told how slutty he looks

If you can fill his ass with cum, do it! 

Also enjoys being eaten out

He'll reach around to grab your hair and push his ass against you so your tongue goes deeper 

I can see him having a bit of toxic masculinity so you calling his ass a “pussy” or “cunt” will irritate him 

But in the same breath it makes him extremely hard 

His eyes are expressive so it's easy to tell when he's horny 

I don't see him denying it either 

Despises dry humping so it's a good punishment 

He's just way too impatient for it 

Other punishments for him could be orgasm denial, edging or refusing to touch him at all. Not just sexually. Like, refusing to kiss him 

Or telling him he can't pleasure himself could be a punishment 

Cock warming probably isn't his favorite either. Like I said, he's impatient. He immediately wants to fuck 

Has a fantasy of being fucked at a pleasure house while other people watch 

Also has a fantasy of having his mouth full of cum and it leaking out while he's being fucked 

Someone remind me to write these out 

I know I've said a bath for aftercare with other characters but like,,, who doesn't love a good bath?

Quick afterthoughts

He's definitely vocal. I just don't see him being quiet 

Doesn't mind getting woken up with sex

Cannot fully express how much he loves dirty talk

[lundenloves]

BABY’S FIRST WORDS

〔 a fluff piece brought to you by yours truly. domesticity at its finest, featuring the rarity of simon joking and we even observe a rare laugh from him. not without his usual cluelessness and blunt nature though. king! 〕

˗ˏˋ i honestly love him just existing as a dad. learn as you go type stuff, his daughter latching onto him when he wanted it least must’ve done him good. our emotionally stunted husband — someone give this man a hug and tell him he’s alr.

⇀ 1k | no warnings

dad!simon masterlist | masterlist | request info | taglist

Of course. Of course it had happened the only ten minutes of the day you had left her — barely managing one foot in the shower before Simon had opened the door with your daughter in his hands. Not arms, but hands. “She spoke.” He provided lamely, holding her out to you as if she contained a transferable illness. 

You grabbed a towel, wrapping it around your dry body before taking her from him, the smile she made was adoring. “She what.” Brows pung upward, your brief frown at his interruption loosening into a warmth while peppering kisses all across her cheeks. “She—“ 

“She said my name.” 

“She said Simon?” You retorted and he scoffed, taking a step backward to the door, forearm leant on the threshold. “Dad?” She reached for your hair, small fingers pulling on it with a smile when you had begun bouncing her from side to side. 

Simon shifted. “Bit like,” His words were lost for a baby laugh, one that echoed against the bathroom walls. Your hand was against your mouth in milliseconds, finding obvious tears welling in your eyes. 

“What the fuck.” You mouthed, smoothing the hair on her head and Simon raised his brows in acknowledgment of your reaction, the faintest of smiles tugging at the side of his lip. “Sorry, what did she say?” You let a breathy laugh go, one that emphasised your emotionality. 

His eyes switched between you and his daughter, leaning his full weight against the door now. “Da.”

You tilted your head at him. “Doesn’t that make you feel whole?” The baby in your arms began flailing her arms in your hold, reaching for her father as if on cue. 

Simon shrugged, pushing off from the door to close the distance between you and allowing her to poke at his tattoo. “Didn’t think much of it.” He admitted, his eyes landing on yours that had narrowed ever so slightly with an understanding nod. 

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” He bit at the skin on his top lip, acutely aware of the flaring of your nostrils. A list of potential worries flurrying your mind, ones you would all deem as irrational though Simon probably wouldn’t. It was valid to worry about his reactions. 

His immediate reaction to your daughters first laugh was, “Oh, shit.” The noise being between a baby coo and giggle combined into something that would’ve burst your chest yet only poked at his. He held her outward, stretched forearms while her small feet kicked in the air. 

Then came her first word, one of demand, a strong “Da!” One Simon had told himself meant dad, though it was more likely a protesting noise to be put down. Whatever the noise meant, he granted her outstretched hands, placing her back down onto his knee and bouncing it up and down gently. 

By no means did Simon Riley know what to do with a baby, he was still learning, very slowly — but surely. “What was that?” He mumbled at her, his eyes boring into hers as if she were an adult who could understand his demanding stare. “Tell dad, eh? Say it again.”

To clarify the noise wasn’t made in anger. 

Instead, she grabbed at his shoulder, bunching up the material of his shirt loosely. “Or that.” He muttered, diverting his attention along with her own to Blue Planet that had been on pause for ten minutes since you had left. 

He tapped his fingers in quick succession of the one before, the sofa armrest now becoming a point of interest for the baby who had watched his hand move. Though, right before she could hike off his thigh, he had then decided to take her through to you. You know, just to let you know your daughter had just spoken her first word (noise) alongside a laugh. 

“Did she say anything else?” You asked, pushing a stray strand of hair that had fallen to his forehead only for it to drop back down. 

“Yeah.” He said bluntly, taking her from your hold and looking down to her. “Quantum physics,” 

A pause for your sigh. “Explained it all.” 

You nudged his shoulder, turning to check the shower temperature. “Go put her down. She’s due a sleep.” Your back was to the man, though his expression was easily imagined. “No, I can’t do it.”

Oftentimes, Simon zoned out when doing anything with the baby. It was something he took through future years too, future kids and all ages, arguments at breakfast? Zoned out. Walking with him? Not there. Even talking to him? Meh. 

He put the baby down in a trance, standing over the cot silently praying to gods he didn’t believe in that she would continue her peace. That no cries would break and his headache would remain in its rest, taking slow steps backward when she had shut her eyes. 

“Can't believe she spoke to you.” You had said later that night, leant against a barstool watching Simon cut up an onion in that one way you just couldn’t master. “And not me, that is.” 

“I have a charm.” He pointed the knife on its end, spinning it on the cutting board before eyeing you. “Obviously.”

“A silent-threatening-mediocre type of charm.”

He shrugged, sliding the annoyingly perfect dicing into a pan. “First laugh too.” It was a mumble designed to entice a reaction, and that it did, your arm barging against his after hearing your baby cry on cue. 

“I’ll get something from her yet.” You picked up washing from the bottom stair, beginning up the stairs to go and pacify. 

“Only got the rest of your life!” He shouted for you to hear, gaining an earnest roll of your eyes. 

“I prefer you when you’re quiet.” You spoke aloud, just enough to gain a laugh from him, one you imagined he had let go without permission while aggressively preparing another onion. 

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkbbyx3 @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov @cliosunshine @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @maki-z @yyiikes @tieflingteatime @cosmoscoffeee @lilvampirina @cinnabeanz @bubbyblob @spencerreidisbae123

unedited as usual. gonna go over my dad!simon masterlist this week. reblogs and comments are hugely appreciated!

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Touching [K. B.]

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

word count: 4k

summary: you and Kaz share physical contact for the first time

warnings: established relationship, trauma, PTSD, spoilers for S&B season 2, here Kaz has no romantic feelings for Inej, and I don't even know where the hell this is located in canon (just imagine that the problem at the end of the series never happened) oh and Imogen's name appears in books according to google

taglist: @rustyyyyspoonz @be-lla-vie @milkshake0 @ladespedidas

Kaz Brekker could swear that he would faint at any moment as he climbed the stairs to his room, the cane in his left hand being the only impediment for this to happen. That day he had to leave the Slat to attend to some business that was complicated by the march and resulted in a physical altercation. Fortunately he hadn't been hurt, but he couldn't say the same for the other men.

Before opening the door, he let out a tired sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, mentally reviewing the pending documents that he would surely have to review the next day, but when he entered the room, his entire train of thoughts was overwhelmed by a presence in the place.

It was you, who was sitting in his desk chair with a book in your hands, from which you looked up when you heard that he had entered. You were already wearing a faded nightgown to sleep in and your features showed tiredness, but also calm.

"Hi," you said straightening up. Kaz felt your mere presence light up the entire room and his shoulders relaxed as you spoke.

"Hello" he replied with a hint of a smile. Without saying anything he went ahead until he reached the bed and you followed him with your eyes, turning in the chair to face him.

“Is it okay if I stay here? I'm sorry I didn't ask you before”

"It’s okay" he replied quietly.

It had been a couple of months since you and Kaz had decided… how shall I put it? Try to have a relationship. You had always been firm in the idea of conquering Kaz Brekker, even with his bad reputation and his difficult nature, since you joined the crows, a few years ago. He never understood why you did it, even feeling suffocated by your attentions, but over time (and after a lot of effort) he began to feel affection for you and eventually he came as close as he could feel to love. He began to care for you, to enjoy your company, and to feel nervous whenever he looked at you, which Nina helped him interpret as a crush.

You trusted that, despite his short temper, Kaz had a good heart and he had shown that more than once. You had never received mistreatment from him (beyond his typical responses towards others), he defended all the members of your group tooth and nail and he was firm in his ideals. Yes, of course he was a criminal, a gambler, and sometimes a murderer, but you knew that he was neither the only nor the worst in The Barrel. Besides, his motives were valid… most of the time.

So it was that a few months ago, during a drunken night, you two confessed your feelings. You were too cheerful to think about what you were saying and it was inevitable that the words slipped out of your mouth like water from a river. Kaz wasn't drunk enough to stop understanding what you were saying and you have a vague recollection that he just put you to sleep and didn't say anything. But hours later, when Jesper had personally taken it upon himself to push the black-haired man to his drinking limits, he burst into your room and only told you that he liked you too. Of course, in the morning the hangover was accompanied by guilt and when you sought him out to apologize, you were surprised that he hadn't felt offended and hadn't taken back his words either. You concluded that maybe the alcohol had given both of you the courage you needed and that was okay.

For a few days the matter remained like this, but then Kaz made an appointment with you in his office and steeling himself with courage, he told you about his interest in having something with you, but warning you that, considering all his characteristics, he was possibly not the best option and what should you look for someone better if you wanted it that way. But you wanted to try things and even more so if he had been the one who proposed it.

You were patient the whole time and gave Kaz the space he needed. Sometimes you just spent time in his office, in silence, and watching him work was satisfying enough. Little by little he allowed you to enter more spaces of his daily life and although you had kept the relationship private, suspicions arose one morning when you left his room and Nina, probably the gossipiest of your friends, saw you.

A couple of times you had held his hand over his gloves and once you had kissed his cheek, only because he was too asleep to notice. It was slow progress, but you could live with it.

Now you were trying to sleep together. You'd obviously replaced Kaz’s thin mattress with a larger one and figured out a way to make it work; between him and you, you placed a line of pillows so that you avoided physical contact. Simple but effective.

"How was it?"

“It could have been better”

"You should rest" you suggested, analyzing how bad he had been after the fight that he surely had. There were no visible bumps or scratches, thankfully.

"Yeah, I will" he replied very vaguely. You saw him look up a little at you and you wondered what he was looking for "What were you reading?"

“Huh, a book that Jesper won in a bet. It is the story of a warrior princess who has to defend her kingdom”

"Sounds nice" he exclaimed. There was the beginning of a smile gracing his face and you didn't think he was aware of it, but he'd been doing it for the past couple of weeks every time you talked to him about something. Every time you spoke, simply.

"It is," you said happily. Kaz had already made a mental note about your fascination with literature, and at the next heist he planned to keep a couple of books for you, if the opportunity arose.

You wanted to continue talking to him, but the truth was that you were only waiting for him to arrive to sleep and you were sure that, although he wouldn’t admit it, Kaz needed rest as much as you did. That's why you got up from the chair and before he said anything else you sat on the bed, next to him.

"I'm tired" you murmured, making a tiny pout and watching him with tender eyes. He was very handsome, you thought of that whenever you saw him.

"Lie back, while I organize some things"

"Come on, Kaz" you complained, b because you knew these activities could last hours and he deprived himself of sleep to finish them "Tomorrow you can do it, sleep with me" you insisted, stretching out your hand until you reached his. He was wearing the gloves and your fingers slipped under his, only taking the tips around your hand.

Both of your gazes landed there, you wondering what it would feel like to hold Kaz’s hand without the leather in between and him admiring the difference in size between your hands and his. You had them damaged around the nails and the skin marked with a few moles, but for him they were perfect. When you started to move your thumb from side to side he looked up, noticing that his eyelids were already weighing you down, and he sighed. For some time now he hasn't been able to say no to anything you ask of him, much less when you look so delicate and hold his hand.

"Okay, go to sleep then"

You suppressed a smile, without much success, and watched him remove several layers of clothing to only be left with his shirt and pants. You had never seen him naked, and you doubted very much that you would soon, but you liked the lightness that appeared in him when he was left with few clothes. As if by taking them off he was also abandoning all the problems that he accumulated during the day.

You carefully slid to your side of the bed, against the wall, and made sure the pillow divider was in place. He kept you company moments after turning off the lamp.

"Good night," you said kindly. Whenever you stayed there you wanted to tell him that you loved him before going to bed, but the intention never materialized. The first few times Kaz was very tense and hardly slept, although by this point he had gotten used to it and he was handling it well; even he would say that he rested more knowing that you kept him company.

"Sweet dreams," he said, with a gentle tone that took you by surprise. You were internally grateful that the room was dark or he would have seen your flushed face.

It didn't take long for you to give up, but Kaz, no matter how hard he tried, couldn't fall asleep. Although having you by his side had relaxed him a lot, for a couple of days there was a matter interrupting his thoughts and it was related to the dreams that had come to replace his habitual nightmares.

In all of them you were the protagonist and he... touched you. In every possible way and every sense of the word, as if it were something natural that didn’t take any effort. At first he was terrified of how real the dreams felt, almost swearing that the night before he had passionately kissed you only to realize that you were still on the other side of that fence of pillows you had placed for his comfort. Kaz had wanted to ignore all of this, but each time these thoughts became more frequent and stronger: What would it feel like to hug you? And accommodate your hair? Would he be able to caress you as he knew you wanted and deserved?

The black-haired man could be evil at times and he seemed unaffected by anything, but the insecurities and fears inside him were bigger than anyone could imagine. Even the day you confessed to him that you liked him, he feared that you were lying or that it was just drunken incoherence.

So now that a few months had passed he felt he had to offer you at least some physical contact or else you'd end up getting bored of him like Imogen once had. But that was another story.

Kaz was startled when he heard you complain and looked silently in your direction, but it turned out that you weren't awake, you had only changed position. From that angle he could see the whole silhouette of your body and part of your face, even more peaceful when you were asleep, everything so beautiful that he wondered how you could be real and especially because you were sharing a room with a person like him. 

His hands didn't have gloves on and even though they had been at his sides the whole time, he felt the urge to move them away. He wondered what it would feel like to touch your skin or if he would actually be able to do it without panicking and as the desire was greater than the fear, without giving it much thought he reached out his arm towards you, preparing to touch your bare forearm. He breathed once, then twice, and finally, he did.

He had to remind himself that your skin wasn’t that of some wet corpse and for this he concentrated on how it really felt; it was warm and soft. His hand trembled on your body and he feared to wake you, but even with this he didn't move away. He didn't know how long it was before he was able to breathe normally, but once he did he waved his hand a couple of times and if you had been awake you would have been amazed at the gentleness with which he did it.

Kaz pulled away a few seconds later, seized with the sudden strange feeling that he couldn't leave him so easily, and with an angry huff he jumped up to wash his hands. He wanted to change and improve for you, but it was complicated and it frustrated him.

Either way, he was thankful that you hadn't seen his experiment and concluded that it was better, so he could move at his own pace. When he lay down again he kept looking at you, taking the opportunity to reflect on the matter, until his body couldn't take it anymore and the unconsciousness of the dream ended up consuming him completely.

And of course, he dreamed of you again.

The days passed as normal and life at The Barrel continued as usual. The crow club was in full swing after the renovations Kaz had done, almost a year ago now, and there was more work than ever. Jesper and Wylan always went everywhere together and the girls at The Menagerie were great with attention, but it still seemed like it was never enough. Nina and Matthias weren't very active members and Inej's visits weren't as frequent now that she led a life at sea. You were in charge of supervising several of the things, on behalf of your boyfriend, and sometimes you also served drinks. The club had gone from being the favorite place for seedy drunkards to a refined place where more and more people came to gamble and have fun. Of course more visits meant more money and you knew that made the owner happy, but it also loaded him with work.

"Knock, knock," you said happily, as you peeked out of his office door, tray in hand. Kaz raised his head from the papers with the accounts he was reviewing and met you "I brought you dinner"

"Dinner?"

“Yes, it is one of the three meals of the day. It's important and you always forget about it" you explained, placing a plate in front of him that contained some cookies, and bread and leaving a cup of coffee without sugar next to it "I didn't know what you might be craving, so I brought something light"

“Thank you,” he said as he watched you drop into an adjoining chair, your own mug of hot chocolate in hand.

"How is everything going?"

"Okay, I'm still missing a couple of things"

"Do you want me to go?"

"No" he replied. How could you think of that? Of course he wanted you there.

During these weeks you had noticed Kaz a little strange, as if he was suddenly more condescending or permissive with you, but you enjoyed these changes. You couldn't know it, but he had been running little experiments like the one he did when you were sleeping. When you were interrupting the path he needed to travel, he would move you to the side at the waist, when you sat next to each other at crow meetings, he would link his knee to yours, and you caught him picking some rubbish out of your hair more than once. So you, too, had begun looking for more intimate ways to engage with him, like taking him out to dinner after a tiring day, curious as to how far he would let you go.

You made small talk about trivial matters and took the opportunity to make sure he consumed some of what you brought him, which he did with pleasure.

When you finished Kaz went back to his work and you decided that it was better to occupy yourself with something else, preferably quietly so as not to interrupt him. Your visits to his study were almost always like this, so you already had some things for your entertainment in a drawer. You pulled out a puzzle that you and Inej used to put together all the time and spread it out on the floor, sitting in a lotus position in front of it, willing to be at it for a while.

But on that particular day he couldn't focus on anything but you. Out of the corner of his eye, he would catch a glimpse of your attentive frown and your hands tapping the floor impatiently for not finding the right pieces, finding both quite adorable.

All day he had been seriously thinking about making a risky move and now that the opportunity presented itself he felt more nervous than he had imagined, so he kept silent for a long time where you didn't even notice the crisis internal he was having.

"Kiss me"

The words were spoken so quietly and hastily that you feared you had hallucinated them and your neck might have snapped from the quickness with which you looked up at him.

"Did you say something?"

"Kiss me" he repeated, loud and clear so that this time there would be no doubt of what he was saying. You felt that your heart was going to jump out of your chest due to the astonishment that such a sudden request produced in you. Kaz was asking you for a kiss? Impossible.

You were stunned for a few seconds, looking directly into those sky-colored eyes that were waiting for an answer. What kind of kiss was he asking you? It was like a kiss on his cheek or… on his lips perhaps? Why was he asking you that in the first place? And why had he thrown it at you just like that?

"If you don't want to, that's fine," he added, with a disappointed tone, and you jumped to your feet as soon as you heard that.

"No, no. I was just... surprised, that's all" you explained, completely nervous, because you didn't want him to regret it.

You walked up to face him and the height difference forced Kaz to look down at you with doe eyes you never imagined he could have and didn't even know he was aware of. He felt slightly intimidated, more by the situation itself than by you, and one of his hands went directly to hold the wood of the chair to try to calm down.

You took a deep breath and looked closely at the black-haired man's face, thinking about which part of his face would be more suitable for kissing; the skin on his cheeks? His forehead? Or go once and for all for those thin pink lips?

When you crouched down he held his breath and you saw him tense when you got closer to his face, but you still continued because you knew he would mark the limit, if there was one. You closed your eyes and finally closed the distance, pressing your lips against his for just a second. Your stomach turned and when you straightened up your cheeks were flushed crimson, but it worried you that Kaz hadn't flinched. You would even say that he seemed to be angry.

"Give me a proper kiss"

You felt your legs shake and you thought you were going to faint right there after hearing him. He wasn't even asking, he was demanding it. Kaz was practically yelling at you that he was going to settle for the simple lip brush you just gave him, he wanted more.

You were a mess at the thought of him wanting to take such a big step, but you tried your best to hold it back and nodded softly at him. A proper kiss would require more than just you standing in front of him, so you sat on Kaz’s lap, who nearly squealed in surprise.

"If you want to stop, just say so" you warned him. But you had already gone too far, he didn't want to stop and of course you didn't either.

Your feet dangled over the side of the chair and you made yourself more comfortable resting your hands on his clothed shoulders, hoping that with that separation of cloth Kaz would feel less uncomfortable, until your face was right in front of his.

There was so much fear in his eyes that you wanted to walk away, but you knew that with that you would spoil all the effort he was making and you feared that he would be offended to the point of not wanting to kiss you anymore.

You would be lying when you said that you didn’t want it, that you didn’t long for to finally be able to know what his kisses would taste like and thus be able to alleviate the knot in your stomach that you had since that party night when you confessed your love, so without more or less you leaned a little and then you kissed him.

At first it was a mere assumption, but when you felt how tense he was you knew that he had never kissed anyone in his life. You could feel his panic through the trembling sighs that escaped him, but you didn't give up for a second from your task.

"Relax your lips" you said, separating yourself enough centimeters to be able to articulate the words "And the shoulders too" you continued, stroking that section with both hands to help it a little "Just focus on how it feels"

Your whispers sounded like spells to him as if they were instructions to follow to achieve the happiness he so wanted and didn't know how to obtain.

You tried again and since he followed your advice the contact was more fluid. Suddenly all negative feelings were replaced by the pleasure of savoring your lips, still with the flavor of the impregnated chocolate, and of feeling your warm body so close to his. There were no traumatic memories because he had never kissed anyone before Jordie’s death, nor since. It was something new, different, and it was also unique because it was you who was there.

He began to pay more attention to details and enjoyed the way your lips caught one of his, so subtly that he could barely identify it, or how your hands had already gone up to his neck to hold it. Kaz’s gloved hands moved almost by themselves to your waist and it was your turn to hold your breath, probably under the impression that he had done something like that.

You cut off the kiss, but then another followed, and when that one ended another came. Suddenly everyone was down to you and Kaz having a little make-out session in his office, a moment he never wanted to end. Maybe it was the sensation of trying something forbidden, but you felt that the man's kisses had the most intoxicating flavor on the entire planet, as if everything you had ever enjoyed was nothing compared to that. And he couldn't do anything more than practically melt under your caresses and let you do whatever you wanted with him.

For some reason Kaz was finally overwhelmed by the contact, but instead of throwing you out of there he pulled you away with his grip on your waist, calm and gentle.

"It’s enough" he whispered. It wasn't because he wasn't enjoying it, but because he knew better than anyone that you couldn't give yourself completely to life’s pleasures or they would end up consuming you from the roots.

He didn't want to open his eyes for fear that it was all another one of those dreams and also to somehow extend the sensation as much as possible, but you didn't want to do anything but look at him. He was breathing heavily and the usual paleness of his skin had been replaced by a vermilion hue and to your surprise his hands hadn't left the position they were in, which you took as a sign that he still wanted you sitting on his legs.

“Are… are you okay?” you asked cautiously, knowing that closed eyes and heavy breathing were also symptoms of a panic attack that you definitely didn't want to happen.

"No” you barely had time to worry and think about what you could do before you heard a soft laugh. Kaz Brekker was laughing “Oh my gosh of course I'm not okay. You're driving me completely crazy” he responded and managed to make the phrase sound like a claim and a compliment at the same time.

"Was it that bad?"

"It was perfect. You are” he confessed and you exhaled a nervous laugh, feeling as foolish as a girl in love. Both of your hands were planted on his chest, so you started to play with a button on his shirt to try to calm your emotions.

“I'm glad you… huh, that we could share this. I really wanted to kiss you” you dared to tell him.

Although he was apparently calm, the truth was that he was having a hard time not separating from you, but the only reason he hadn't was because of the loving and happy expression that was on your face, which probably, to a lesser extent, he also had.

"Me too" he assured you, with that little smile you had already begun to love.

And that kiss represented the beginning of a path that Kaz was willing to walk, as difficult as it was, only for the promise that at the end of the day it would all be worth it if you were the one waiting for him. 

[kalivodas]

i CRAVE roommate!gaz who lowkey makes your jaw drop everytime you see him chilling on the couch in an exercise tank top and shorts with his stupid little perfect smile

FALSE GOD — kyle garrick

might’ve started drooling i fear roommate trope means everything to me !! enjoy this quick lil thing i spit out

warnings gaz is hot and cocky what’s new

KYLE GARRICK HAD a sickness. an insatiable hunger at the base point of his skull that told him to strum your nerves like raw guitar chords.

he followed it’s beck and call. ignored every one of yours.

that’s why he teased you like this. he needed you to admit the things he saw dance behind your eyes when he called you sweet little names.

his head dipped on the back of the couch, chiseled jaw grinding as his body stretched. a large palm laid flat on his taut belly, thumb hooked just past the waist band of his shorts.

you opened the door, and his stupidly beautiful face split in a grin. it was truly nothing you’d hadn’t seen before, you seemed to always catch kyle at the worst times.

“go take a shower, you whore.” you throw at him, then your keys and bag.

he tosses it to the side with a grunt.

“i’m not a whore,” he says simply, but the way his left eyebrow arches up — you question the validity of the statement. he cocks a forearm up behind his head, flexes it, and you know it’s a lie. he fucking knows he’s hotter than a two dollar pistol. and it irks you.

but damn it, he was pretty enough to lick the sweat off of.

“staring at me like you could eat me and i’m the whore,” gaz scoffs, and some acid bitten laugh falls from your mouth.

“oh, you’ve done it now, garrick.”

you lunge at him, crossing the couch in a few lousy jumps before you start throwing cushioned blows into his abdomen. you ignore that it feels like you’re hitting bricks.

he tips his head back and laughs, actually lets you land some of those strikes before he kicks a leg under you. his hands follow your wrists, pin them together and then you to the couch.

a gasp falls out of your mouth before you can stop it.

your eyes jump around frantically, some pathetic attempt to ease the concrete set gaze he has on you. you struggle against his grip, but it’s unwavering. makes a coil tighten in your stomach.

“kyle, let me up,” you huff, but he’s beaming like a damn cheshire cat.

“no.”

you jerk against the restraint again. “please?”

he cracks, and the bruising of your arms briefly alleviate, but when your eyes find his, he pushes down harder.

“admit you like me,” he coos, and it sounds foreign coming out of his pretty mouth. this six something, two hundred pound man, pinning you to your shared sofa, almost pleading with you to admit something so juvenile.

you laugh. “i don’t.”

“do too,” he rebuttals.

“do not.”

he hikes a meaty thigh between your legs and pushes it against you. something that stings you like arsenic and warms you like whiskey hits the back of your throat. he feels the heat of you against him and has to bite his cheek not to vocalize it.

“do too. i can feel you, lovie.” at least he tried.

your head lolls to the side. you can feel his eyes burning fever onto your turned cheeks. “fine.”

“fine what?” he implores, and his free hand falls to squish your chin, make you look at him again.

“fine, ithinkyou’rehot.”

“hmm?” he’s not having it. prick.

“you’re beautiful and you make me sick when you look that good sweaty as a mug. happy?”

he nods and licks his teeth. you can tell he feels accomplished, like he’d won something out of a claw machine. maybe he had.

“yes.” he grinds his leg again just to see you swallow a whine then releases you from his sick vice. pats your cheek for good measure. “thanks, pretty little dove.”

when he rises to his feet to go off and shower as you’d originally suggested, there’s a twisted triumph etched on his face. it makes your eyes roll. he’s honestly just glad you caved before he had to start walking around the house naked.

a/n : begging someone to ask for a part 2 im drooling

the part 2

[sebsbarnes]

lover girl || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

summary: tangerine saves you from an awful date, cliche realizing feelings afterwards

warnings: mentions of killing, language, talks of insecurities

word count: 2k+ ; angst, comfort, fluff-ish

tangerine masterlist

"i have a date," you excitedly told the twins.

"ain't this the third one this month?" tangerine asked popping grapes in his mouth. lemon knocked him on the head in disapproval. tangerine whipped his head around, glaring at lemon as if he was the one in the wrong.

you simply rolled your eyes, "i feel good about this one."

lemon and tangerine both knew you wanted to be loved more than anything else. you constantly said that was the one thing missing in your life. you loved your job, your family, your friends, your hobbies but you just wanted someone to share all the good with. which is why you made it your mission in between jobs to go on as many dates as possible. the twins understood the desire to find someone, they wanted it too, but they held their hearts close to their chests whereas you did not.

tangerine often ranted, to a knowing lemon, how you needed to be more careful for a plethora of valid and invalid reasons. it was dangerous dating as an assassin, your cover could be blown easily, or it could be a set up. and then, there were the selfish reasons that tangerine didn't even realize were selfish. you sometimes would opt out of jobs to meet someone you were interested in or you would cancel premade plans with the twins to see someone. and this irked him. what do you mean tangerine didn't have his favorite sidekick with him on missions? what do you mean you skipped the weekly brunch you and the twins had? all lemon could do was console a jealous and unwilling to listen tangerine.

you lived in the apartment next to the twins and had made your way back over to get ready. the guy you were meeting was handsome and a total gentlemen over text and you were feeling giddy. you played dress up for hours. perfectly styling your hair, coating your skin, eyes, and lips with makeup. the dress was the showstopper. it was a fitted red satin dress that you paired with black heels. your date told you he made reservations for a steakhouse which truthfully you weren't too keen on, but it allowed you to dress up which you never did with your job.

lemon had offered to take you to the restaurant since you didn't want the man knowing where you lived. tangerine stayed back as lemon exited the front door but couldn't resist looking through the window. it was only a glimpse, but he saw the lowcut back of your dress and your shiny hair and he bubbled with jealousy.

your date was waiting outside the doors for you chatting away to the valet girl, a little too closely for your taste. his body leaned onto the podium, head cocked to the side as if he was mesmerized by her and that should've been the first red flag. he greeted you with a hug that you returned.

"i am starving," he basically yelled, "i wish you said you could do dinner earlier."

"oh i'm sorry," you said blinking rapidly feeling guilty.

"yeah it's chill, i'm ready for a beer," he waved off, opening the glass door but letting it fall on you. your eyebrows knotted together. did he just drop the door on me? you were baffled but chuckled awkwardly grabbing the glass door, smiling at the older couple who witness the whole thing.

the tension in your body made you rigid. you felt uneasy across from the man who was obnoxious and blatantly checking out the waitress. he had already finished his third pint and you hadn't even ordered entrees yet. you were poking absentmindedly at the salad, grimacing at him.

"so what's you job again?" all you could see was the food in his mouth and you dropped your fork.

"i work at a catering company," you lied. it was your go to fake profession as it could excuse your bizarre working hours and absence from town.

he patted his mouth with his napkin, "oh so you don't make such money don'ya?"

"excuse me?" you were completely and utterly flabbergasted at the remark. though, he seemed unfazed and gestured towards your salad you had now abandoned. you were disgusted by everything and pushed the plate towards him.

"i'm kind of a hot shot at work," he bragged and you were motionless. any further movement looked robotic meanwhile your douche of a date was leaned far back in the chair, his beer in his hand, and manspreading to the point his feet could trip someone.

the twitch of your eye was becoming more dramatic as he droned on. was it not obvious that you were paying zero attention to the man before you? the only thoughts circling your head besides how he's a douche is the fact you could easily take the knife out of your purse. with ease it would slip through the fabric and you'd lean forward dragging it across the man's adam's apple and watch the blood trickle down onto his ugly polo shirt.

"pretty impressive, right?" the dull man asked. he had been on a ten-minute rant on how he was promoted within a month of working at his company because he stole a coworkers idea but it was okay because 'well the boss hates her so i knew he would approve the idea if i brought it to him'.

"mmm, riveting," you mocked, swirling the red wine in the glass.

"i'm gunna go take a whizz," he pointed, throwing his napkin onto the table. your mouth slacked open at his actions.

'im begging you to pick me up' you texted frantically.

'you haven't even been there long what's wrong?'

'either you tell me yes or i slice this man's throat open'

'on my way.'

your fingers drummed on the white tablecloth, chin perched on your fist waiting for the clown of a man to return. his figure approached from the bathroom and just when you thought you couldn't be more turned off by this man he shoved his hand down his pants adjusting himself. in front of the whole restaurant.

when he sat down you slowly stood up placing your purse on your shoulder, "look, i'm feeling a bit unwell so i'm going to head home. and this was awful," you muttered the last part under your breath.

"well aren't you going to pay?" he asked dumbfounded.

you couldn't stop the guffaw that left your mouth, "good one, prick."

you sauntered outside waiting for tangerine. the cold air nipped at your skin and for some reason tears started to line your eyes. they closed and to calm yourself you let out a shaky breath through your nose, though this did nothing for your watery eyes. tangerine's head lights moved slowly beside you and you ripped the door open before the car came to a complete stop.

"well don't ya look fuckin' joyous," he joked, his eyebrow high on his face.

you huffed, finding your red dress constricting and pulling at it to let your skin breathe.

"not in the fuckin' mood for jokes tangerine," you hissed. you leaned back against the headrest eyes closed trying to calm yourself from the swirling thoughts on why you can't find someone good. tangerine went quiet, silently observing your resting state, throat bobbing up and down. he sighed before slowly pulling away. the ride was silent for a few minutes before you felt the rant bubbling up in your body and your lid was about to explode.

"he shut the door in my face!" you laughed incredulously, "he only talked about himself. god he wouldn't shut up! he works in tech so he thinks he is hot shit."

tangerine laughed, "definitely shit."

"then he had the audacity to say i make no money. me! tan, we make so much money that man would be ashamed of his check if he saw ours. he gawked at every single lady in the building and i know i shouldn't care about anything that prick thinks but he must think i'm ugly. i worked so hard to look pretty tonight! he ate my salad, granted i had two bites but he took my food? and then. then he touched himself! in the restaurant!"

tangerine's foot slammed on the break in shock causing your bodies to lurch forward and he immediately stuck his hand in front of your body to not fall into the dashboard, "sorry i didn't mean to do that."

"you're okay."

tangerine didn't really know how to respond. his brain was reeling of ways he could kill the man for hurting your feelings. if he could he'd kill every asshole you went on a date with. you don't deserve to be treated poorly and it ached at tangerine's soul every time you'd come to their apartment after a date sighing in disappointment when it didn't work out. lemon would be the one to comfort you as tangerine stayed quiet nodding as you ranted but silently raging.

tangerine turned off the main road, a destination in mind that wasn't the apartments. your head swiveled towards him in confusion and he glanced out of the corner of his eye, an amused smirk on his face. he paralleled parked and turn the engine off.

"what...?"

he smiled, "c'mon."

you slowly opened the door skeptically looking at tangerine.

"we can't waste a good outfit now can we love. plus, you need to eat." tangerine grinned sticking his elbow out for you. baffled, you wrapped your arm around his staring up at your favorite speakeasy.

arm in arm you two entered the building and he didn't drop the door on you. he pulled out the chair to the high top allowing you to sit. tangerine immediately ordered your usual drink and appetizer. he ran a hand through his curls giving you a smile.

"why are you doing this?"

he paused briefly, "i see you every week get treated like royal shit love. truly i don' know why any of these pricks, first of all, think they have a real shot with ya nor do i know why they'd treat someone like you so poorly. i know i don't do the mushy stuff, but i don't like seeing you upset. it's not a good feeling and i know it's not for you either. you think their actions are a reflection of yourself but it's not. their dicks okay? so you can't keep thinking you're the problem 'right? you're hardworking, you're smart, you're kind, caring, loyal, honest, funny, beautiful and these pricks deserve none of that. not from anyone and especially not from you. your heart is too good for most people."

to say you were shocked in this moment was an understatement. never in your years of knowing tangerine had he spoken so highly and with compassion about someone other than lemon. your heart ached at the sentiment and you knew every word was true. you were easy to give your heart away to be loved and you took the failures as your fault, a reflection of you like tangerine said. deep down you knew it not to be true but the insecurities loomed and swallowed your confidence like a storm. you also knew deep down that's why you do date shitty men sometimes because you think it's what you deserve. tangerine knew this too and he was here stepping up now to help you in stopping the cycle.

"tan, wow i-," you stumbled over your words, once again teary eyed, "you see right through me don't you." your hand snaked over to his, softly wrapping your hand around his palm.

"i care about you, i do. i want you to protect your heart just as much as i want to," he confessed placing a soft kiss to your hand.

a few beats had passed and the server walked over placing the dishes around your entangled hands, "you're a beautiful couple," the young girl spoke before leaving.

your's and tangerine's cheeks went pink. your eyes fluttered down to look at his hand in yours, "we would be, right?"

[suosgirl]

Keeping It Cute (& Dangerous) - Hayato Suo x Reader | Ch. 3

Word Count: 4100

୨ৎ Read me before interacting!

୨ৎ Pairing: Hayato Suo x Reader feat. Haruka Sakura, Akihiko Nirei, Taiga Tsugeura, Mitsuki Kiryu

୨ৎ Warnings: mdni, f!reader, manga spoilers (?), ooc (?), loss of loved one, violence, panic attack, breakdown, slowburn, knives, stabbing, blood/bleeding, broken bones, harassment, survivor's guilt, misunderstandings, fighting, grief, swearing, ptsd – if I’ve missed one, I apologize + please let me know!

୨ৎ Note: I wasn't feeling the original image because I really want this fic to feel real – so, updated it so it looks like a manga panel (˶˃⤙˂˶) Also, remember when I said this would be 4 parts? I lied, haha. Definitely will be longer (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

୨ৎ Keeping it Cute (& Dangerous) Masterlist

“Bunny,” he repeats himself – simple and matter-of-factly. “That’s not my name.” “But you’re just so cute –” Your nose scrunches up at his words, and he laughs as he claps his hands. “Oh! See, you are a bunny!”

This was a situation that you did NOT have on your bingo card.

Sat in between Kiryu, whose name you had just learned, and Tsugeura, whose name you had also just learned, you found yourself cursing the universe for the streak of bad luck that just kept coming.

(They had originally all sat across from you, something you were thankful for – but when you had excused yourself to use the restroom, they thought nothing of it until they saw you fly past the shop windows.

Sakura and Nirei had to drag you back.

You blame your weakness for puppy dog eyes.

… Fun Fact: Nirei was really good at doing puppy dog eyes.)

You just couldn’t understand it – you had apologized for what you did, and they had told you that you did nothing wrong, so why were you still here?

And also – nothing erases the fact that they’re all still so good-looking. Especially Suo.

Ugh, even his name was pretty. So pretty, in fact, that you couldn’t stop repeating it in your head. 

You could still feel the ghost of his hand on your shoulder and the warmth of his breath on your ear. 

Bunny…

Is that what he thought of you? A harmless, dainty little ball of fur? You’re irritated at the mere idea of being compared to such a powerless animal. 

For goodness sake, you had fractured a man’s hand – bunnies don’t do that.

What’s worse – he had continued to call you that stupid nickname the whole walk here. You had ignored him, of course, but it seems that only fueled him more, because he hasn’t let up on the name since then.

How can someone so handsome be so aggravating? 

You’re brought out of your thoughts by the sound of a poorly veiled excuse of a cough, and you see that they’re all looking at you expectantly.

“Oh – I’m sorry! Did you say something?”

Sakura lets out a sharp tsk, no doubt still annoyed about earlier, before responding to you.

“We were askin’ for your name.”

Oh.

You don’t mean to, really, but you let out a laugh. It bubbles out of you, unrefined and uncontained, because the situation in its entirety is just so ridiculous. Of course you hadn’t introduced yourself to them because you didn’t think you’d still be talking to them. Or rather, that they’d still be talking to you. 

Once your laughter dies down and you’re wiping the stray tears from your eyes, you quickly apologize and introduce yourself.

It’s silent for a second, and then Suo hums and you eye him warily.

“I think I like bunny better,” he concludes, smiling at you.

You shake your head, before correcting him with a forced smile of your own.

“Bunny,” he repeats himself – simple and matter-of-factly.

“That’s not my name.”

“But you’re just so cute –”

Your nose scrunches up at his words, and he laughs as he claps his hands.

“Oh! See, you are a bunny!”

Suddenly, you don’t like him anymore. 

You turn to Kiryu, even though you barely know him, because you need support and validation and he looks like the type to run to your aid in times of need. He’s already looking down at you, his eyes thoughtful and sensible and you’re sure that he’ll be the one to put an end to this endless teasing. He’s so reliable, you think. And handsome. And Kind. But now he’s smirking at you and you’re not sure why – 

“Kitten! You look like a kitten right now~”

You almost flip the table. Keyword: almost. You are, after all, just a girl – but girls don’t flip tables. No matter how irritated they are. And you know what? You pride yourself on how poised and collected you are in the face of hardship. You are resolute – unbreakable. This is child’s play. 

“I don’t think you’re anything like that –” Tsugeura chimes in, and you’re so glad that someone finally sees you for who you are. 

Perhaps… perhaps Tsugeura was way more emotionally aware and attuned to others' feelings than you had first thought. You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, and suddenly, Tsegeura is just so dreamy and handsome and – 

“– you’re more like a banana! Banana is my favorite protein flavor, the other fla-”

You slide your hands under the table. 

First, you were going to flip this shit. Then, you were going to rock their shit.

“I-I think you’re really cool … and strong!” Nirei interrupts your silent rampage, and you feel the anger dissipate from your body.

You decide then that Nirei is your favorite one from the group, and you grant him a smile – because kindness is supposed to be met with even more kindness. And he was kind, and cute, and sweet, and –

“But … I feel like I’ve heard your name before… I just can’t remember where…,” he mutters, and you watch him pull out a small notebook from his jacket. 

You feel your skin prickle at his words, and you quickly ask Kiryu what he’s looking at.

“Ah – he collects information about people –”

Kiryu’s still talking, but you tune him out.

If people from this town knew who your brother was, then you weren’t safe here either.

You watch Nirei flip through his notebook in earnest, and your hands start to get clammy. You had to leave. Whether he found the information he was looking for or not, you didn’t want to stay to find out. You decide that you had entertained them long enough, and it’s when you start to slowly push your chair back that Nirei finds what he’s looking for.

“Aha! I knew your name sounded familiar!” he’s beaming at you as he says your brother's name, and you don’t have it in your heart to ask him to stop.

But then – he’s naming things about your brother like his height and his preferences and his shoe size and you can’t stop the way your eyes are starting to water or the way your hands softly inch towards to stop him.

And everyone’s so enraptured in Nirei’s storytelling, so intrigued by the rumors of your brother and the rumors of you, that no one notices.

It’s only when you gently pull the notebook from his hands that he stops. You’re not mad. Really. 

You’re just – 

…

You don’t know how you feel.

Through blurry eyes, you skim over the page and you’re surprised at how accurate everything is – but, you find one flaw.

One stupid flaw that you wish wasn’t real, but it was, and reality hurts.

“You need to add that he passed away a year ago,” you say before clumsily handing the notebook back to him – your eyes glued to your lap.

The table falls silent, and you don’t want to look up. You don’t want to look any of them in their eyes or see their expressions of remorse or guilt because, honestly, they didn’t know.

But… But to hang your head low in your brother’s memory was shameful. He deserved to be remembered with your head held high – a smile on your face and pride in your voice. That’s the type of person he was.

“My brother –” you take a deep breath, willing your voice to stop shaking and your hands to stop fidgeting. Kiryu’s hand is on your back, comforting and sweet, and you know that he’s silently telling you not to push yourself – but you press on.

If your brother were here right now, he’d tease you endlessly about how small and frail you look. 

But then… he’d flick your forehead and tell you to straighten your spine – because addressing your feelings and your fears head-on is the only way to get stronger.

“He was the one that taught me that I could wear whatever I want, do whatever I want, and be whoever I want – because I’m strong enough to back it up. He made sure of that.”

“He was really famous in our town… Maybe that’s why you’ve heard of him? He protected everyone, just like you guys, and he had this thing he would do where he would call himself –”

“The LION…,” Nirei joins in quietly with you, and you let out a small laugh as you nod. 

“Yeah, my brother was the lion and I was the tiger. He was really into stuff like that – said it made us sound cool and intimidating and whatnot. He even had everyone call us that too and I used to hate it because it was so cheesy, but somewhere down the road, it grew on me.”

You’re smiling now, but it isn’t reaching your eyes. You’re trying, though, and they can see that.

“When I fight …,” you pause, and flashbacks start running through your mind. 

You remember all the fighting, all the banter, and all the lessons. He was such a flashy person, always trying to take on 15 people at a time just to show how strong he was. But … he was strong. Stupidly strong, and so so smart. He had the mind of a tactician – always planning, always thinking. His strategies rarely failed, and if they did, he took it in stride with a smile on his face and a chip on his shoulder.

“... I feel like he’s right there beside me, giving me pointers on what I could do better and telling me not to mess up my hair too much.”

You missed him – terribly. But, life goes on. 

The days pass by, the seasons change, and in some miraculous way – you begin healing.

“I think about him everyday,” you admit, “he was my best friend, my role model, and I knew him like the back of my hand. You’re doing his life’s work, too – and that’s something to be incredibly proud of.”

You look up at them, and though your tears have subsided, there’s still an ache in your chest that you know will only get lighter with time.

“How?”

You flinch at the question, and everyone is quick to scold Sakura but he continues – 

“He sounded pretty damn strong, so what happened?”

The question makes sense. Your brother was strong, so how did he, of all people, get killed? 

You know that you, yourself, are also an enigma – so you get where he’s coming from. You had moved to Makochi with trauma and issues and history, and it still wasn’t clear if you were a threat or not. It just hurts, you suppose, being perceived like this.

You purse your lips, not because you’re angry at Sakura, but because you’re angry at what you’re about to say.

This part always stung the most.

“My brother… he was well known, even outside of our town, for ending fights and saving people. He was a hero – the town’s hero. But because of his reputation, we had more and more people moving in, and a lot of them had emotional baggage. They –”

Your hands start shaking again, and you have to force yourself to calm down.

“They didn’t know this, and it isn’t their fault, but because of so many people seeking refuge with us, gangs from out of town were putting a target on me and my brother.”

Your breathing is coming out ragged now, and you can feel your body start to heat up with pure anger.

Kiryu’s hand is on your back again, and you’re so grateful for the way it grounds you enough to continue speaking.

“The night that my brother died, he was by himself. We didn’t know that the gangs had reached out to one another to create some sort of compromise, but if we had, then maybe things would be different.”

“I don’t … I don’t know exactly what happened, but when they found him, he was on the outskirts of town with 50 bodies laid out around him and 20 stab wounds… He could’ve been saved, but he lost too much blood because he just kept fighting.”

“I was supposed to be with him that night, but I had a stupid little cold and he told me to stay home and rest. Can you believe that? I was at home, with soup and cough medicine and a runny nose, while my brother was out there dying, and I –”

You don’t realize you’re gasping for air until they’re all telling you to stop, and you finally notice the hot tears running down your face.

Your body stills, and then – you’re quiet.

It takes everything in you to just breathe.

You’re stuck like that for what feels like forever before you’re able to start releasing the tension in your body, but your heart is still racing and your mind is still reeling and –

Sakura breaks the silence.

“... They’re cowards – you don’t bring knives to a fistfight,” he states, plain and simple, and the rest of them are waiting with bated breath and worried eyes as you look up at him and –

You laugh. It’s a bitter laugh, but it’s something, and you see their shoulders drop with relief.

Slowly, your heart returns to a steady rhythm and you’re sure that you’re probably looking a lot better because Kiryu is softly asking where you’re from.

You hesitate, but the name of your hometown falls from your lips – and so do their faces. 

“That’s –,” Nirei starts, but Sakura cuts him off.

“Whaddya doin’ all the way over here, then?”

You pause.

“I’m protecting my town – same as you.”

“That … doesn’t seem like much protection – ”

“They're still looking for me – the hit that night was for both of us. They only want me. The town is safe because I’m not there.”

You’re met with silence, and you take that as a queue to wrap this whole thing up. You’ve said far too much than you’d like to admit, and you don’t want to get attached to these feelings and these people and this town. 

This was fun. Handsome boys always make good company. But, the sooner you get this over with, the sooner you can move on.

So, you bring your hands together with a soft clap, grabbing their attention as you smile at them.

You drone on about how, despite this being a great fun experience, it’s getting late and you really oughta head back to your apartment now. You’re thanking them for listening to you and for being so nice and caring, but you’ve already taken up so much of their time and you couldn’t possibly keep them out for longer.

You honestly, genuinely think you’re doing pretty good.

What you don’t count on, though, is that they’re getting familiar with your smiles. They’re starting to catch on to which ones are real and which ones aren’t – and the smile you’re giving them now is so guarded and forced and fake that they’re already standing up before you finish your little spiel. 

You deflate at their reaction. You weren’t even done.

Sighing, you go to grab your bag before standing up – and they’re quick to gather around until they’re blocking you with their bodies.

“You’re not thinking about leaving town, are you?” 

“Of course not! Goodness, why would you even think that?”

You laugh, light and friendly, before trying to step around them. They block you again.

“Look, I’m tired and I want to go home. Please please please let me go home,” you plead, desperate to finally be alone.

“If we visit you tomorrow, you’ll still be there? You won’t be gone?”

You smile again, but your eyes are starting to twitch and your patience is running thin.

“Yes yes yes – I promise I’ll still be there tomorrow.”

What a fucking liar, they think.

You, on the other hand, are getting frustrated because usually nosy people end it at the first question. You’re not at all used to whatever this is, and you’re starting to get worried that perhaps they got too attached to you. 

“We’ll walk you home –”

“No need! It’s really not that far!”

Your facade is cracking now, and you’re starting to get antsy. This was too much attention, too much care, and you hadn’t experienced this much clinginess in so long.

Why couldn’t they be more like other towns, who didn’t so much as bat an eyelash when you left because you had caused fights and problems and violence?

“How will we know where to go tomorrow then?”

“Oh – good question! Here, pull out your phones and I’ll give you my contact information.”

They immediately do as you say, but when they look up, you’re fucking gone – halfway out the door by the time they realize it.

You’re booking it, running as fast as you can through alleyways and sharp corners before they even get a clue of where you are. 

You’re smiling, pleased with yourself because you won and boys are just so easy.

Finally, you can unwind from the disastrous day you’ve just had and wallow in self-pity and embarrassment to your heart's con– 

You run into something hard and firm and tall and handsome and – shit.

Suo’s got his arms wrapped around your waist, strong and secure, and though he’s smiling, you can see how furious he is by the way he’s pressing his lips together.

“It seems my sweet little bunny just keeps getting away.”

You bristle at his words, and for a split second, you consider flipping him out of your way, but his fingers lightly press into your body as a warning and – 

“Okay fine, you’ve caught me. Are you happy now?”

You hate how breathless you sound in his arms, but he, on the other hand, is absolutely thrilled. Whether it’s because of your pathetic surrender or because you’re so damn close, you’re not sure.

You place your hands on his chest because, if you’re going to let yourself be held captive by him you might as well enjoy it, and you feel the tiniest flex of his body under your fingertips.

Oh. 

Alright – fine. Two can play at this game.

You tilt your head to look up at him, and in the prettiest voice you can muster, you say — “You’re being so mean, Suo.”

All he does is hum at your words, and you flush at the lack of response. 

Never… never again. 

Maybe you should flip him. It wouldn’t hurt, you think, to get one good jab in. Make him really remember you before you’re gone. 

“I honestly think you’re being the mean one here.”

You open your mouth to respond, but he continues.

“If you think leaving is the best thing for you to do right now, then I’ll let you go.”

He drops his arms, and you shiver. You’re not sure if it’s from the breeze or the weight of his words, but you instinctively wrap your hands around yourself.

“You can go to the next town, and then the next one, and then the next one, until you’ve run out of land – and I won’t stop you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you look away from his stare. You can’t do this, can’t listen to this, it hurts and your chest is tight and – 

“Or, you can stay here a little while longer. You can get to know the town, know the people, and you could find something worth staying and protecting again.”

You're stepping away from him now, your eyes clenched and your hands shaking.

For a year, you’ve had whispers of your brother's voice, sure, and the occasional casual friendships from town to town, but you’ve never ever been spoken to quite like this. You didn’t know words could bruise you like this. You didn’t know the truth could sear into your skin and burn.

You didn’t give anyone the chance to confront you, never stayed long enough to make it worth it, but here he was – stern and honest and real.

You’re scared – no, terrified at the idea that someone like him could see right through you. That he could see through your facade. That he cared enough to say all of this. That he cared enough to try.

You don’t … know what to do. You’re at a crossroads, and although you’d been in this town for a couple of weeks now, this was the first time you were seeing it for what it truly is. 

And you’re not sure if you can love another town the way you loved your hometown. You can’t get attached or comfortable — can't stay in one place for too long. You don’t know what could happen to the people here. What if they find you? What happens then? You shouldn’t risk it, a voice rings through your head.

Yeah, yeah you shouldn’t – 

Another voice, so quiet and soft that you wouldn’t have even noticed it if you hadn’t been thinking so hard echoes out.

Try. Hope. Trust. Believe. Protect.

You fear that you’re losing your mind, the words so outlandish and foreign that you can’t remember the last time they’ve ever left your mouth.

But then – you remember earlier. The girl you helped. The girl you protected. The protection that Bofurin offered to you. The hope in her eyes. The trust in their eyes. The trust in you. 

And suddenly, you’re crying. It’s not a burst, nor is it hot to the touch. It’s a slow, mesmerizing trickle of tears shining with intention and meaning and feelings and you don’t make a move to bottle it up.

Suo sees this, and his lips press together before he continues.

“You’re not alone here… you’re safe.”

He knows. 

He knows that it’s important for you to make this decision yourself.

Suo was an observer – he had waited for you to slip up, to show your true self. He couldn’t trust you, not yet. His friends were much more kind, much more optimistic than he was – but he had his doubts. 

He watched you with his full attention as you told your story. He saw the way that you caved in on yourself. He witnessed the path of destruction that you were following with a naked eye and a blind heart.

And when you had apologized on your knees for such a small misunderstanding, how could he have stopped himself from helping you up and easing your anxiety?

You had made him concerned. So concerned, in fact, that he saw right through your little trick back at Pothos, and the minute you had bolted, he was already out the door and hot on your trail.

Besides – how could you, someone from out of town, know the streets better than him?

He had chased you twice now. 

He doesn’t dwell on this realization too much.

But, if you truly decided it was best for you to leave, he wouldn’t stop you. He was a man of his word, and although deep in his heart he knows you’d be so much happier and safer if you stayed in Makochi, well, he wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if he didn’t respect your wishes.

So he stands there with his hands clasped behind his back, and he waits, and he hopes.

And although you're silent, he can tell you’re reaching some sort of an epiphany because you’re still here. You haven’t run away. You haven’t disappeared.

It isn’t until you’re looking up at him that Suo finally lets out the breath he’d unconsciously been holding in this whole time, but he needs to make sure —

He stares into your eyes for a brief second before visibly relaxing.

Ah. There it is.

Your eyes… They have color again.

It was such a small detail when he first noticed it earlier – back when he had first laid his eye on you. 

Your eyes had been blank – they were blank when you were staring at them, blank when you crushed that man’s hand, blank when he had pulled you up from the ground.

But then, when you were holding hands with that girl and reminiscing about your brother, he saw it – brief and fleeting and pretty.

Your eyes, when they’re full of life and hope, are so very pretty.

Your lips are moving, but Suo hasn’t got a clue what you’ve said, and it’s his turn to get flustered now because getting distracted like this is so very unlike him.

“Hm? Sorry bunny – I didn’t quite catch that.”

You pout, his eyes dropping to the way your bottom lip juts out – and now you’ve got his attention. He wishes he was a stronger man, truly.

“I said –,” you pause, the nickname causing your face to warm up and the tips of your ears to bloom a lovely shade of pink, “... I said I’ll stay.”

୨ৎ Chapter 4

[icaruien]

"satoru."

your voice was a low timbre, a steady thing, and satoru felt like crying right then and there. he didn't, of course. he couldn't. he was still the strongest, even when he was with you. you didn't need a broken man craving validation and attention, you needed a good toy to fuck and break for the night and leave in the morning. that was okay. he could be that for you. he could be anything for you.

satoru looked at you past half-lidded eyes, a cheeky grin on his lips. "mm, right here," he said. "you're so boring, you're making me zone out."

you rolled your eyes, but it was clear that you didn't buy it. a knot formed between your brows, the beginnings of a question coiling on the tip of your lips, but you said nothing. he didn't expect you to. the both of you didn't come to each other to talk, after all. you were there to fuck and get fucked.

(still, satoru thought selfishly. it would have been nice if you asked.)

he arched his back when your hand wrapped around him, callouses built from years worth of wielding weapons digging into the tender skin of his cock. he whimpered. you smiled.

"still boring?"

satoru's grin didn't falter, even when he could feel the light in his eyes dim a little bit. "dunno. why don't you convince me a little mo— oh, fuck. yeah, just like that."

you didn't talk, and you didn't tell him sweet things, but the way you twisted your wrist and kissed his mouth told him enough. neither of you were very good at talking, but that didn't stop you from knowing precisely what he needed anyway.

you weren't kind to him when you dragged out his orgasms, cutting them off right as he's about to topple off the edge, forcing him to cum over and over again when his lungs were on fire and his legs were shaking on either side of you. but your unkindness was the only act of kindness he would allow himself to have.

you were the only person he would allow himself to have.

and this wasn't love, this wasn't a date, this wasn't anything at all. he was a fool for thinking that this could be more, an idiot for imagining a night when you would finally stay, a moron for hoping that one day you would look at him the same way—

"tell me." his voice was broken, ragged and ruined by his own heavy breaths. you looked at him, eyes wide and curious, hands sweeping his bangs back. "tell me i'm yours."

"you're mine," you answered easily. you had stopped hesitating a long time ago, and satoru was so selfishly grateful for it. good, it meant he could pretend a little longer.

"i'm your satoru," he said, an insistence, an offering.

you smiled. it wasn't an acceptance.

"that's right, my satoru."

but it wasn't rejection either.

—so maybe, being a fool wasn't such a bad thing if he could have this makeshift home with you just for a little while longer.

[captianprices40thson]

Just read you're other story, it was awesome. Can you write one with male reader being married to graves and ale and rudy flirting with m/n, but every time m/n is like I'm married but never tells hes married to graves. And one day they are making out on the couch and ale and rudy walk in and are like " NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO WHY HIM OF ALL PEOPLE. " and " THAT SHOULD BE ME. "

Do you have a man? I don’t see a ring on your finger

Word count: 2.3k

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Graves (jk) None really. A lot of fluff, Los Vaqueros and Graves have beef, Alejandro complains about white people (as he should), 

Notes: Wrote the vast majority of this in class while listening to IT GIRL. You know this is gonna be good. And yes, if you've submitted a request the last three days after I posted my last fic, I’ve started to work on it. Gotten a lot more than I’ve expected so I’m trying my best lol. And Anon, if you want me to rewrite this or make something different, please just ask me to, I really don't mind. I'm not too proud of this one, but I hope I've satisfied you.

(Takes place before the Graves betrayal. Reader is not part of the 141, Shadows or Los Vaqueros, but a secret fourth thing.)

“Come on, Guapo. You’re bluffing.” Alejandro smirked, crossing his arms as he spoke. You chuckled, leaning back against the truck that Rudy was loading up. This wasn’t the first time he had accused you of lying about your relationship status. If you had a dollar for each time, you’d have enough to have another wedding.

“I’m telling you, Alejandro. I’m a married man. How many more times do I have to tell you?” You confirmed for the millionth time, a stupid grin on your face. Truth be told, you didn’t half mind their flirting, it made you feel better about yourself knowing that you still got it. The fact that they refused to believe that you were married, it was sort of funny.

“I don’t see a ring.” Rudy added in after he loaded the final bag onto the truck, a know-it-all look on his face as he walked up to you too. You rolled your eyes, refusing to move from your position because you thought you looked too cool not to. “No one wears rings during active duty, Rodolfo. You see Soap and Ghost wearing theirs?” You spoke back, pushing yourself off your spot on the car for two reasons. Them being, you thought it would be cooler and Rudy was moving to open the door your foot was suffocating.

“No, Ghost wears his ring around his neck. Also I’m pretty sure Soap lost his.” Alejandro commented, making eye contact with you. It wasn’t for long because you immediately closed your eyes as you scoffed.

“Well, that’s Soap for you. I guess I just prefer to not wear mine.” You reasoned, looking over to Rudy, to Alejandro and then over to a whistle that just sounded American. That always made you smile, seeing Graves whistle his Shadows like they were dogs.

“Oh great, it’s the gringo.” Alejandro hissed, causing you to turn your head and shake it a bit.

“Hey.” You scolded him like he was a child and had just said he hated something, which was kind of true. Los Vaqueros had a sort of special hatred for Graves, perhaps it was because he was the most American man you’d ever meet, perhaps it was because he was just kind of an asshole. You’ve been trying to get them to get along, but so far it would only work on Rudy. He was the kinder of the two, it was clear.

“Alejandro. We talked about this.” Rudy chimed in, causing Alejandro to hold out his arms in disbelief. He dropped them to his sides and pointed over to Graves.

“Is it my fault he’s so white? I’m literally being blinded every time I look over at him!” He protested, causing you to chuckle a little. Rudy didn’t let himself smile, although he was internally.

“I know. It is very painful to look at him.” Rudy nodded, placing a hand on Alejandro’s shoulder and shaking his head like he was sympathising with Alejandro after he had been shot or something, not like he was complaining about white people. A valid complaint in most people’s eyes.

“I don’t even say it to any of the 141.” The taller man whisper-shouted, searching for sympathy from you. You smiled, shaking your head as you walked over to him and placed a hand on his other shoulder so you were now one big line.

“Oh yes, you’re very strong, Ale.” You patronised him, talking down to him like he was a toddler. Before he had time to punch you, Graves walked over. Sorry, not walking, strided like the sassy man he is.

“Alright gentlemen. Let’s get this show on the road. You coming with me, Y/N?” Graves smiled, looking over to you. Both Alejandro and Rudy looked over to you, knowing that you always travelled with Graves when you went to go do something. Not belonging to any of their groups, you preferred to travel with your husband.

“Ye-”

“Actually, Y/N will be travelling with us for this mission, Graves. He’s been with you every other time.” Alejandro butted in, placing his arm in front of you like you were going to run off to the man at any minute if he didn’t step in.

“You can’t just decide where he does and doesn’t go, compadre.” Graves tried to argue, but you gave him a look to say it was fine. He nodded, making a little symbol with his hands to tell you that you were to make it up to him later. You had created a lot of those symbols, knowing that it would be hard to communicate all your incredibly affectionate thoughts for one another.

Graves walked away and the three of you turned to the car. Rudy tossed the keys around in his hands, indicating you were to sit in the back because of course Alejandro always had to take shotgun if Rudy was driving.

“Who used this truck last?” Alejandro asked as he opened the passenger’s seat door, sitting down while you buckled in and Rudy turned the keys.

“Uh, It was you last, right Y/N?” Rudy asked, turning back to you. You gave them a thumbs up, your mind replaying why exactly you had used the truck last time. Makeout sessions were not easy to go on base, and the trucks had tinted windows.

“Wait what the…who the fuck did you have in here? W-Why is the seat back like that?” Rudy asked as leant back in the seat only to realise just how far back it was positioned. The taller man held the lever that would pull the seat back up for Rudy and before you could deny anything, Alejandro had something to ask..

“AND WHY DOES THIS CAR SMELL LIKE JAPANESE CHERRY BLOSSOM? WHO THE FUCK DID YOU HAVE IN HERE?” He yelled, causing Rudy to laugh to himself at seeing your guilty face.

“THAT'S JUST HOW I LIKE TO DRIVE!” You lied, trying to come up with an excuse for why the truck was like this. You were sure they didn’t believe you, but they didn’t say anything about it for a moment.

“Sureee, we believe you, love.” Rudy smiled, starting up the car and beginning to lead the rest of the group to the relocation point. You looked over at your hand in the backseat, wondering why you had chosen not to wear your wedding ring. Sure, it was impractical as hell to have on the field, but you could easily attach it to something else, like a necklace. 

“What’re you thinking about, carino? Tryna make up a personality for your fake husband?” Alejandro asked, looking back at you from his chair. You frowned, like a full on cartoon downturned face.

“He isn’t fake, forehead. And what I’m thinking of is none of your business.”

“Oh I get it. It was sexual. You were totally thinking about Rudy and I.” “Don’t drag me into this Ale.”

“You helped me dig this hole, Rudy. You’re coming in with me.”

“Why do you make everything about sex?”

“Why do you not?”

“I’m a human that respects everyone around me, Alejandro. You don't…” You decided to tune them out, it was just the same bickering every time that somehow got you roped up in it. You’d heard it all before. They’d argue about something or other and eventually they’d make up when you forced them to, which made them want to flirt with you even more. You didn’t mind the flirting…it just got a bit tiring sometimes.

________

“Hey baby.” Graves smiled as you entered the small section of the base that was dedicated to the shadows while they stayed for the time being. You smiled, walking up to him and embracing the American man in your tired arms, just wanting to hold him.

“Hey Graves.” You mumbled into his shoulder, your voice being muffled by the fabric of his shirt. It was one of your favourites, a dark blue that suited him well. Graves reached a hand up, holding the back of your head and slowly swaying from side to side.

“How were your little cowboy friends? Better drivers than me?” Graves asked, making you groan, remembering how they were flirting with you all trip. The American chuckled at your response, continuing to hold you close.

“They just can’t seem to understand that I’m married. They think it’s impossible…I don’t know whether or not it’s a compliment and at this point, I don’t care.” You groaned, lifting your head up to meet his eyes. His smile, no matter how much of an asshole he was being, was always kind to you.

“Aww, baby.” Graves frowned, holding your face in his hands. You smiled and placed both your hands on his waist, both of you leaning forward to kiss. The two of you had missed the touch that you never seemed to get, this was a rare time.

You both went down to the couch, Graves on top of you as you made out. He moved one of his hands to hold you from the back and you put another in his hair, holding the platinum blonde locks as your passion rose to the surface.

“What the fuck?!” The accented yell caused you and Graves to pull apart and look where it came from. A very very shocked Alejandro and Rudy stood in the doorway, both caught off guard by the situation.

“W-What are you two doing here?” You asked as Graves pushed himself off of you so you could speak to the two men. They never visited this part of the base on purpose, avoiding Graves and his shadows like the plague.

“What are you doing here?” Alejandro retorted, pointing to the two of you with a confused look on his face.

“I’d say its pretty obvious what my husband is doing here.” Graves butted in, pointing to you with his thumb, causing both Alejandro and Rudy’s jaws to drop. You almost let out a laugh, instead choosing to hide your reaction and just look at them blankly.

“W-What did you say?” Rudy questioned Graves, looking over at him and then back to you. It was like he couldn’t believe that someone as sweet and kind as you…was married to Phillip Graves.

“Y/N is my husband. He wasn’t lying about being married, y’know?” Graves smiled a stupid shit eating grin at the two men’s reactions. They both looked over at him, then back to you seemingly in unison. You could only lift up your hands a bit and give a ‘sorry smile’ to them. 

“B-But if not us…why him?” “COME ON, Y/N. YOU CAN DO SO MUCH BETTER!” Alejandro added in, more fond of shouting than Rudy would ever be. You made eye contact with Graves while they yelled, trying to figure out why he was the one you were romantically interested in,

“D-Do you just have a thing for Americans?”

“Is he lying to you about how good of a person he is?”

“What type of car does he drive?” 'HE'S THE WORST, ARE YOU KIDDING ME?"

“Fuckin white people, taking everything anyone else wants.”  "WHY HIM OF ALL PEOPLE?"

While the two Mexican men started rambling and guessing why you would be with Graves and not them, you and Graves decided to share another kiss while they argued, effectively shutting them both up.

“You two,” You started as now you finally had their attention. “We’re with each other because we love each other…simple.” You smiled, watching them take in the fact that you actually might just love Graves.

There was a silence while they processed that, a deafening silence and if anyone came past the room, they’d assume there was no life in there. It stayed for a minute before Alejandro spoke up.

“This isn’t over, white boy.” He vaguely threatened, making ‘watching you’ hand gestures and walking out of the room backwards, maintaining eye contact with Graves the whole time. 

“What he said.” Rudy added on, quickly walking after him, just keeping his head forward. When Alejandro bumped into the wall while trying to exit, Rudy grabbed his shoulder and they both muttered something to one another, Alejandro rubbing his head as he left.

“Were they high? What was that?” Graves asked, completely confused on what just went down. You didn’t know whether to defend them or not, because to be honest, you thought they were as well.

“I have no clue…” You whispered, turning back to Graves and laying back down on the couch in the position you were in before. The blonde saw this and smiled, laying down back on top of you, not kissing you, just laying there.

“We can deal with them later.” He whispered, closing his eyes and just laying there with you. You smiled, placing your hand in his hair and mentally preparing yourself for whatever the dynamic duo were going to try next. You had no idea what it was going to be, but you just hoped they wouldn’t resort to trying to kill Graves. But, there was no saying what those men would stoop to to win your affection.

[bitchimasnake-sss]

unwinding after a long day ft. luffy!

in which, after a long day, he comes right back to you <3

ft. luffy x fem!reader

set-up: its been a tiring day for him, good thing you're right here to offer your services (wink wink)

warnings: both sfw/nsfw headcanons for this dumbass; nsfw stuff includes penetration, cockwarming, raw!fucking (kids use protection pls 👍)

luffy:

sfw!!

- after a long, long day of eating, running around the deck with ussop, defeating like five sea kings, enduring 53628 kicks and punches from the crew (how is this man a captain is beyond me sometimes), luffy is bound to be tired - you're laying on your bed post-dinner, absent-mindedly chipping away the nail polish - you feel the mattress next to you dip lowly as he jumps next to you, face-first - "ynn-" he's whining, wrapping his hands around you and intertwining his legs between yours, "ynnnnnn" "hmm?" you hum, still busy picking apart the colour on your nails "i'm so, so soooo tired" a laugh escapes you, "really? is it due to all the running?" and now he's pouting, "are you saying it's my own fault?" - you peck his cheek, then flash him a grin, "how can i ever say that?" - most of the nights, you silence him by giving him a massage - you don't even think you're good at it but holy shit this boy is obsessed with getting a quick massage from you. - and this has led to quite the number of misunderstandings. "yn," he had asked you when the crew were eating dinner together, "can we do that thing at night? i really need it." "WHAT THE FUCK-" nami is punching luffy in his guts, his food is being thrown out of his mouth and onto zoro, "WE ARE EATING." - he meant massage. - you knew it, he knew it. the rest of the crew? they assumed you were fucking (they aren't wrong, per se. they just didn't want to believe that all the sounds of bed creaking wasn't from you both jumping around, rip them) - yeah ussop threw up and sanji fell to his knees and cried for like 57 mins because how did luffy manage to bag you??? - zoro hasn't spoken in two days from the shock of it (and the traumatic experience of having food spit on him) and nami has retired to her room for a whole business week, she is now only conversing by using chopper as her message carrier - chopper is confused (poor bby 😭😭, he assumed it was massage or something and he is the only one who's correct) - anyways, other than getting massages, sometimes he starts rambling on about something or the other till he falls asleep mid-conversation - rest assured because he will continue whenever he wakes up "where was i?" he's shaking you awake "luffy" you groan, "it's like two am, go to sleep" "oh right, so ussop told chopper than reindeers are called reigndeers because they used to be actual kings back in the ancient times and so rein means reign and not rain like most people as-" he falls asleep again mid conversation - tf are you supposed to do with this man?? - peak, sheer dumbassery even when he's tired

nsfw!!

- this man refuses to entertain one-sided favours - your soft hands were kneading away the tension on his biceps a few minutes ago, so obviously he should return the favour back by massaging your back - you refuse many times because as much as you love luffy, this man does not understand his own strength - so you have a very valid fear that he would break your spine as he gives you a massage - "this isn't fair, let me do it too ughh" "how about no" "okay then let me fuck you, you'd like that right?" - didn't even blink twice plz 😭😭 - this dude is dead serious. - he gotta make up to you for being such a sweetheart to him one way or the other - that explains how he was pulling your top off, sucking sweetly on your tits, fingers gently rubbing over your clothed pussy - that also explained how he pulled you onto his lap, slipping in his dick inside you, stretching you out with a loud moan "you always take it so well, don'tcha?" he grins at you, tipping your head upwards and kissing you - refuses to move tho. - basically baited you into cockwarming him - what a royal asshole. - "what is it?" he coos when he feels your walls clamp down on him, your fingers desperately toying with your clit to get some sort of relief "pl- pleasefuckme-" there's tears clinging onto your lashline, your lips are red from how long you've been biting and chewing on them "hm?" he grins at your state, "what was that you said?" "please-" your breath hitches as he thrusts into you suddenly "fuck you?" "go- god. fuck, yes" his thrusts are merciless, pounding into you at a speed that has your overstimulated cunt spasming in seconds - doesn't let you go till he feels like he's paid you back enough "that was fun" he nuzzles into your neck, breathing slowly "mhm" you feel yourself dozing off he lays you down before snuggling into you and falling asleep - will end up giving you a massage in the morning anyways - although he can be just a little bit of a dick sometimes, there's no one you would rather unwind with

bonus!!

- ussop (while crying) had to relocate from his cabin to sanji's because the walls are really not that thick and he was next door - "i can hear them-" ussop sniffled, standing at sanji's doorstep, "omg i can hear luffy-" "ussop, you have to learn to face the horrors of the world." sanji spoke firmly, although his expression betrayed the confidence in his voice - actually they both just cried and ate the secret stash of ice-cream sanji had saved up - you and luffy need to pay for their therapy now im afraid 😃

zoro's part <3 sanji's part <3

[weebsinstash]

Now don't get me wrong, I like how... calm and unbothered Alastor is, or at least tries to pass himself off as being

but like.... we know he's a drinker.... and we know certain details about him having an alcoholic abusive father who was cruel to his mother which heavily influenced his whole Dexter serial killer morality bs... and I can't help but think of a fic idea where Reader and Alastor are together and, suddenly without warning you break up with him BECAUSE YOU CHEATED ON HIM. you're like, legitimately heartbroken and missing him but you broke up for a good reason and, time passes and you dont see or hear from him, you're basically just going on with your life, and, MEANWHILE HE'S JUST SLOWLY DEVOLVING IN A PATHETIC LITTLE MEOW MEOW

His radio show comes on and he's SLURRING and people are aghast. Alastor is usually such a classy gentleman, so careful with his image??? Meanwhile he's in his radio station with several glasses of whiskey and staring at a wall lined with your photos while he's broadcasting, "ohhhh hEeeEy LiSteNers!! How-how are you all doing this.... 😡LOVELY😤 evening. Isnt..... isn't it... so nice to... spend time with loved ones when you need them? 🥴 WELL I WOULDNT KNOW HA HAH HA" *cue 30 straight uninterrupted seconds of unhinged laughing from a man clearly having an emotional crisis* "so on tonightsssshow I was-i wasszzz hoping to-to discussss-"

Like imagine tuning into his show after avoiding it because it broke your heart and it turns from him like, having an actual topic and planned structure of his show, to then, one day you overhear a broadcast and he's just occasionally slurring, saying really really vague shit about how "real men are supposed to be strong enough to protect and hold onto those they hold dear" and you can occasionally hear the THUNK of his whiskey glass hitting the table meaning he's already drunk but still drinking WHILE broadcasting and, oh honey you already sound so wasted you don't need more--

You guys don't understand. I want this man having a very PUBLIC very MESSY mental breakdown because he was CRAZY IN LOVE WITH YOU and you sat him down and told him you love him deeply but you need sex and you've cheated on him REPEATEDLY and EVEN THEN he was HARDCORE COPING, "w well as long as you promise it won't happen again-" "I cant and i won't. I love you but i cant repress this part of myself" LIKE YOU DECIMATE THIS MAN. Alastor's just beside himself because like, not without valid feelings but you're basically dumping him to fuck strangers. Like. I just. What if he literally had a ring box or was starting to realize he's demisexual on the ace spectrum and was starting to have Those Feelings for you and you're just. Breaking up with him, and all he hears is "sorry but having these disgusting men I don't even know hunch over on me grunting like disgusting animals and defiling me who is definitely way too good for them is way better than being with you my respectful funny classy charming totally-not-husband"

I want you to be walking down the streets of Hell and Vox suddenly comes on their equivalent of a jumbotron and he's visibly beside himself with excitement, "BREAKING NEWS, THE RADIO DEMON IS PISS DRUNK IN THE GUTTER LIKE A FUCKING LOSER, MORE NEWS ON THE SCENE" and it just snap cuts to him facedown in the street somewhere. Have you ever seen Intervention. You can have grown ass adults with successful careers and loving communities and when they find something that breaks them you'll be seeing shit like, children finding their mothers literally passed out in the yard because they were too drunk to get into the house or even WALK properly. So. You just. See him in this legitimately pathetic absolutely humiliating state and you can't help but feel that that's YOUR fault, meanwhile Vox is living his best fucking life, GOD FORBID VOX SEES YOU STANDING THERE CRYING ON THE SIDEWALK, he's then broadcasting your crying face all over Hell, "Hey Alastor even your EX is CRYING AT HOW PATHETIC YOU ARE, GUESS THAT'S WHY THEY LEFT YOU HUH" and like. The live feed of Alastor shows him just, struggling to even lift his head to look up to, wherever, and see your image there, looking absolutely devastated, looking at him with pity and heartbreak. oh, his sweet beloved, looking so distressed because you see him so weak...

Vox is just living it up mocking both of you but he's made several enormous mistakes by putting you on the air, especially looking like THAT, especially with Alastor in this mental state, and ESPECIALLY to mock you when you're already looking so broken. The feed cuts. All the TVs read "LOST SIGNAL" and nothing comes back on the news for the rest of the night. Less than a week later, the radios are on again, and Alastor sounds... completely back to normal? Chipper, even? And at first you're happy to hear he's all good and well, but, there's something about some of the things he's saying that are making you a little.... nervous?

"You know folks, it took me an EMBARRASSINGLY long while to realize that, a true traditional man puts the needs of others above himself, and especially the needs of his special somebody! One can't truly care for one's loved one properly if you're too boggled down with, FEELING SORRY for yourself right? How else are you going to... defend what's yours if you just lie down and take it?"

"So while I was off the air, good listeners, I was doing quite a bit of, spring cleaning, let's call it! Yes, I was... unfortunately very busy, having to wrangle up quite a few.... disgusting, insignificant, dirty, thieving PERVERTS!!!! ....but now that that's all good and done with, I'd certainly like to think these streets are a little more... respectable!"

"To end the broadcast tonight, a final word to all my fellow men out there. If you happen to discover that, for whatever reason, your beloved has run off with another? It was because you deserved it for being WEAK. You allowed another man to just, COME IN and... DESECRATE what is precious to you? Disgraceful. Pathetic. Ill-mannered. You cannot call yourself a worthy partner if you simply allow your beloved to waltz themselves into the mouth of danger, can you? So, a little piece of advice from your humble host here tonight: Take back what is yours. Take them back, do not let them go, and do not let anyone EVER soil your love ever again. ........Also hey! Don't forget that the annual Cannibal District Cook-Out is this coming weekend so be sure to--"

[hp-hcs]

Mattheo Riddle and Draco Malfoy x he/him

Yanderes au

He’s a pureblood who was forced to be a death eater, like them. And they get this overwhelming possessive urge to protect him from anyone and anything.

When he’s in pain they can’t - seriously can’t even think of leaving him alone. They’re physically hurt seeing him in pain. If he’s struggling they are going to help, whether he asks for it or not. If someone hurts him? Hell even if Voldemort himself hurts him? Even he wouldn’t survive their wrath.

They see themselves in him. But also not, because they wouldn’t care for themselves the way they care for him. They wouldn’t isolate themselves as they do with him. They don’t love themselves. Like how they are sickenly obsessed with him.

They don’t really let him do anything for himself because of their obsession. What if his bag clip breaks and cuts his hand? Yeah no. They’ll get Goyle to carry it for you. What? He’s feeling hungry? Don’t even think about getting up. They’ll order a house elf to make the best there is. He’s being sent on a death eater mission? Oh they think not. Never again. Never again.

i’ll be honest, i have like five very similar requests in my inbox already, so i kind of just skimmed this one until those last four lines hit me like a fucking TRUCK

! five part series; each part has six chapters ! (ambitious, i’m aware)

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.

『 Never Again 』

Yandere! Good! Draco Malfoy x Male! Reader x Yandere! Good! Mattheo Riddle

【 Part One — The Lesser of Two Evils (We Were Children) 】

Chapter One — Nobodies (Who Are You? Are You Nobody Too?)

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.

❝ I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you - Nobody - too? Then there's a pair of us! Don't tell! they’d advertise - you know! How dreary - to be - Somebody! How public - like a Frog - To tell one’s name - the livelong June - To an admiring Bog! ❞ — “I’m Nobody! Who are you?”, Emily Dickinson

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.

Mattheo Riddle and Draco Malfoy had majorly fucked up five times in their lives.

The first was, of course, choosing to take the Dark Mark and swear allegiance to the Dark Lord—deadly ultimatum or not.

(Choosing is a strong word, though. They didn’t choose. They were told.)

They were fourteen.

~~~

An honor, they were told it was.

A once in a lifetime opportunity, their mothers crooned while stroking their hair. How proud you’ll make your father.

Proud, they repeated in their minds. I’ll make everyone proud.

They kept repeating the sentiment, even as their flesh sizzled and crackled, darkened and flaky around the edges of the new and never-healing burn.

Even as they were sharply dismissed from the Death Eaters’ meeting without so much as a glance from their fathers.

Even as the boys went back to their respective rooms in Malfoy Manor—where Lord Voldemort had decided to set up shop with his army of loyal sycophants—and bandaged up their arms.

Even as they both cried themselves to sleep—praying for Someone to rescue them from this self-inflicted hell—they repeated the sentiment, over and over.

They’ll tell me they’re proud of me. They will.

But Nobody did.

~~~

“Good. Now kill him,” Lord Voldemort hissed in his son’s ear, his hand holding the elbow of Mattheo’s wand arm steady. “Just like we practiced.”

Mattheo licked his chapped lips, steeling himself as he eyed the pleading Muggle man before him.

“Sir- b-boy, please! I- I’ve done n-nothing-”

“Avada Kedavra.”

The Muggle dropped like a rock, his pleas sharply cut off as he fell backwards. His skull made a sickening crack! as it hit the fine marble flooring of the Malfoy manor.

A slow and twisted grin of glee crossed Lord Voldemort’s face. “A-ha! Very good, Mattheo. Well done. Brilliant form, perfect diction…”

(The Dark Lord was not a stupid man. He knew how much his validation affected his son, and he knowingly used that to his advantage.)

“Nephew, come here. Your turn.”

Draco gulped and stepped forward as Mattheo returned to the edge of the Malfoy family’s ballroom-turned-execution-theater. The two cousins traded a glance as they passed one another, both sharing the same thought.

They’d become child soldiers, plain and simple.

Death Eaters.

A pair of Nobodies, doomed to be Somebodies.

Their arms itched.

.・。.・゜✭・. ☾ ⋆*・。.・゜✭・.

[loveyouanyway]

i’ll kiss your scars

buck x eddie | 900 words | teen rating

trans buck my beloved for @steadfastsaturnsrings <3

“But y-you like men.” “Yes I do. Particularly the amazing and gorgeous man in front of me.” Buck stumbles across his words, all flustered. “But Eddie, I’m not— like I don’t have a you know.” He glances down there. “That doesn’t make you any less of a man, Buck." (Buck comes out to the love of his life)

read on ao3 or below

Buck, Eddie and Christopher are enjoying their dinner together in comfortable silence.

Christopher finishes his plate of spaghetti and meatballs first and now that he’s not eating, the silence feels weird so he speaks up.

“I’m not the only Christopher in my class anymore.”

Eddie hums. “Oh new student?”

“Nope. His name used to be Chloe but now it’s Christopher.”

Eddie and Buck look to each other in understanding.

“So he’s…”

“Trans. Yeah, it’s not a big deal, Dad. Now people just call me Chris and him Christopher.”

“How did people react?” Buck asks curiously.

“Everyone was cool about it. Some people had questions though so Christopher answered them. Then Mr. Nolan told everyone that he will not tolerate any transphobia or homophobia but he’s happy to tell us more about it. And if we ever have to talk to him about it, we can.”

Buck blinks back tears thinking how happy he is that in school, kids can come out and people will be supportive or at least respectful enough that they won’t say anything negative. He thinks about how bad it would be if he came out in middle school. He’s so glad Christopher has a teacher like Mr. Nolan.

He should probably tell Eddie that he’s trans. It’s been over a year since they’ve been friends. He knows Eddie will be accepting and everything but it’s still hard. He doesn’t want anything to change between them.

“Buck?” Eddie and nudges his foot with his own under the table.

“You okay?” he asks.

Buck quickly nods. “Yeah no I’m good.”

Eddie thankfully doesn’t push and instead asks what movie they should watch tonight.

—

They watch Spiderman: Into the Spider-Verse and Buck suggests they watch the second one next movie night which Christopher enthusiastically agrees to.

Christopher gets ready for bed reluctantly and Buck reads him a chapter of Percy Jackson. Eddie watches them with a sickening fond smile.

Once the chapter’s done, he and Eddie both hug Christopher and tell him “good night” and Buck yearns for him to have this every night.

They walk into the living room and Buck plops onto the couch with a sigh.

Eddie sits down next to Buck and faces him.

“Hey, you know that you can tell me anything, right?” he says earnestly with his stupidly pretty eyes and it feels like Eddie's staring into his soul.

Buck breaks eye contact and nods. “Yeah of course, uh thanks.”

Eddie doesn’t reply as if he’s hoping Buck will say more.

“Just give me a moment.” he adds and to that Eddie hums and rests his hand on Buck’s thigh. Oh fuck. This isn’t helping his nerves.

Buck takes a deep breath. “I’m trans.”

A second passes.

“Thanks for telling me.” Eddie smiles, trying to act like he didn’t know this but Buck sees past it.

“You already knew. How?”

“I saw your testosterone gel thing in the bathroom once. I guess you forgot to put it away like you usually do,” Eddie answers softly.

“You’re not mad I didn’t tell you?”

“Of course not, Buck. You don’t owe me anything regarding that.”

“We’ve been best friends for months.”

“Yeah well did I come out to you as cis? No. Besides gender is fucking stupid. Am I even a man?”

Buck sighs. He supposes Eddie has a valid point.

“Uh, while we’re talking about more serious topics, I have something to tell you,” Eddie admits.

Buck doesn’t have enough time to panic before Eddie calmly says “I’m in love with you.”

Is this a fucking dream? Buck doesn’t know what to say. “I- What do you mean?”

Eddie continues, “Yeah that was one of the factors in the whole me discovering my sexuality process. Hen called me out so many times about my gay panic for you.”

“But y-you like men.”

“Yes I do. Particularly the amazing and gorgeous man in front of me.”

Buck stumbles across his words, all flustered. “But Eddie, I’m not— like I don’t have a you know.” He glances down there.

“That doesn’t make you any less of a man, Buck. I know how I feel about you. I love you beyond your body but I mean, I do really love your body too and I hope I can make you feel safe and comfortable with it.”

Yeah this is a fucking dream come true.

Eddie lifts up the bottom of his shirt. “Can I…”

Buck has no idea what he’s about to do but he’ll let Eddie do anything to him. That probably should be concerning but he doesn’t care.

“Yeah,” he says with a shaky breath.

Eddie gently takes Buck’s shirt (which actually belonged to Eddie originally) and looks at him with such adoration, it makes Buck want to cry.

He lowers his head and brings his lips to Buck’s top surgery scars. He softly kisses along the two lines, whispering “I love you” after each kiss.

Now Buck is crying. He is just so overwhelmed with love—both his love for Eddie and feeling so loved by Eddie. He manages to say, “I love you” back before the tears make unable to speak coherently

Of course Eddie understands and doesn’t tell him “No it’s okay don’t cry,” instead he embraces him into a hug that makes Buck feel all warm and fuzzy — like all hugs from Eddie do.

They stay there, holding each other and Buck realizes things have changed between them but in the best way possible.