#opens the washing machine. looks inside to be sure there's nothing there

[keeps-ache]

🔴⭐🟦💚 <- my tuoys

[johnbrand]

Thrift Haul

“Hey babe.” I grandly dropped the bags of my thrift haul onto my bed. “I got you something.”

Jace groaned, still in his pajamas. The plain white tee and sweatshorts were a favorite of the late sleeper. “I told you to stop getting me stuff.”

“But why?” I flashed him with my signature puppy-dog eyes, feigning innocence. “Is it so wrong to treat my lover every now and then?”

“Every now and then, no.” Jace took a seat beside me, his heft weighing the mattress down in his direction. “But once or twice a week? That’s too much.”

“Maybe you have a point, but you need these!” With glee, I pulled out a pair of shoes from one of my bags. “They were only $5!”

Jace took the gift curiously. “You found Vans for that cheap?”

“Well I did thrift them,” I shrugged. “But honestly they don’t look that bad. A little worn-in but exterior-wise I’d say they’re almost brand new.”

Jace lifted the tongue of one of the shoes. “They’re a little too big for me.”

“What do you typically wear?”

“My shoe size is 10.5, but 11 in Vans,” Jace frowned. “These are Size 13.”

“You’ll grow into them,” I impishly replied, knowing we were both well past puberty. “But you seriously needed new shoes. I know it was just yesterday but I don't think I'll ever forget watching your Converse get ripped to shreds in the laundry machine.”

It had been a strange predicament no one could have ever predicted. Jace and I had stood there staring in confusion as the laundry machine practically fell apart in the last cycle, its interior suddenly grating against itself in a mess of metal, water, suds, and the sole objects inside the machine. Jace had been lucky he had only been washing his shoes. 

“I think I found out why they were only five dollars,” Jace grimaced. “They reek of teenage boy.”

“Just try them on, you dunce.” I had already grabbed a pair of gray socks from his dresser, chucking the wad at him. I then drew closer and led his hand to the imprint of my hard member “I'm going to the bathroom. Maybe if you do as I ask, I’ll bestow upon you another gift.”

I caught Jace’s smile before strolling off to the bathroom. I had known the shoes were a little big–truthfully not that much larger–but I was desperate to help Jace out. For a gay man, he had always had a rather heterosexual style. Sure it was admittedly plain, but who cared? I just wanted to make my boyfriend happy, and to make sure he had shoes. If anything, I knew the Vans would work until we got him a decent pair that would fit. 

“So?” The question was already leaving my mouth before I was back in the bedroom. “How do they feel?”

“Honestly, not bad.”

“Really?” I reappeared back in the doorway, finding Jace propped up on the bed. Laying opposite of how the mattress was intended, my eyes found the two shoes propped up on the head of the bed frame. 

Jace nodded, “Yeah, the flat soles are fairly comfortable. And surprisingly, they fit perfectly.”

“Really?” The surprise in my voice was evident. But with my own eyes, I could see Jace’s toes wiggling inside the toe box. For being a couple of sizes larger, I had not expected the Vans to so perfectly fit.

“They’re super grippy too,” Jace commented. “And they look sICk.”

The voice crack echoed like an alarm throughout my bedroom. I opened my mouth to comment on it, but instead found myself silenced, observing something more troubling. Jace’s pajamas were rapidly rematerializing. His shirt suddenly sprouted buttons before splitting open in the middle, exposing his hairy paunch, and his sweatshorts tightened into a more restricting, trendy pair of denim counterparts. 

“Jace…” I started slowly. “Why don’t you take those shoes off?”

Jace made a face, “Why dUDe? I LIKe them a lot.” Jace’s voice was now fixed to a higher register. Its tenor had a more lively, immature tonality. I could do nothing as the new vitality of his voice began to reflect upon his body. Jace’s body quickly thinned out, becoming youthful once more with tight abs, a softer face, and an overall hairless figure.

“Are you sure you like them?” I pleaded, watching Jace’s hair fluff out into a popular layered fringe. 

“The boys are going to love these, I’ll fit in perfectly.” Jace affirmed, a renewed focus in pack mentality skewing his desires. “Becca told me you were great, but I didn’t think you’d come in clutch like this, man.”

“Becca?" I stumbled along. "As in my sister?” A second reality began to present itself to me. Jace was no longer my boyfriend of over a year, having met as juniors in college. Now he was my younger sister’s boyfriend of over a year, the two having met as juniors in high school. Before I had a chance to truly reflect on this change, I heard the front door open and close in the distance.

“That’s probably my babe, isn’t it?” the new 18-year-old asked, pointing in the direction of the noise. “I better go catch her dude. Thanks again for the sweet kicks!”

The spry young athlete jumped off my bed and rushed out of the room, a mixed odor of teenage musk and metallic body spray wafting after him. I was left standing there, stunned and wondering what to do with the rest of my thrift haul.

[keeksandgigz]

my guy

eddie munson x fem!reader

Eddie being your personal handyman and stupidly in love.

cw: 2k words. no warnings just two kids being absolutely smitten for each other. tooth rotting fluff. teeny allusion to smut. Eddie being a flustered mess bless him. 18+ mdni

AN: this is literally the most low stakes thing i've ever written i just started cheesing at the idea of eddie cheesing at being called your guy

The sputtering of the washing machine startles you.

Huffing, you put your book down on the couch, rising from the depth of the cushions in which you had settled yourself into after finishing your chores and go assess the issue.

"Shit," the floor is wet and you shudder at the feeling of the cold soapy water getting into the bottoms of your socks as you slowly make your way to the washing machine to unplug it.

You try your best to dry the floor, wincing at the feeling of wet socks on the linoleum floor, cursing under your breath at the cold feel of the fabric against your skin.

Despite the floor being dry, your washing machine was broken, and you couldn't afford to buy a new one. Fortunately, your neighbor, Eddie had been your own personal handyman ever since you mentioned in passing that your sink was leaking a bit after moving into your place a couple months ago. The day after he was at your door, toolbox in hand. Your sink was fixed in less than a couple hours.

You knock at his front door, three precise, well timed knocks. Your mind cannot help but start counting just to see how long it will take him to open his door.

One, two, three, four, five, si--

The rattling of the door handle distracts you from your counting. Eddie's eyes are wide as they stare at you. His hair is tied in a low bun and he's fidgeting with a guitar pick in his hand. He must have been playing.

He's really quiet for a second, then clears his throat. "Oh, um. Hey, what's up?"

"Hey, nothing much? just wondering if you're busy right now" your tone always softens up with him around.

He looks around his apartment, almost as if he needed to remember if there was anything he should've been doing.

"Nope, don't think so. Why?" He leans against his doorframe, and he's cute in the way his pitch perks up, his smile expands just a bit to let a few crinkles form around his eyes.

"Well um... my washing machine broke and I can't afford to buy another one. I have a really important interview tomorrow morning and I need a clean dress shirt to wear. I thought I could get my guy to take a look at it and assess the damage?" you lightly punch your fist across his chest and he blushes a bit. You can tell by the way he starts blinking a bit faster that he's flustered.

"Your- your guy?" he stutters, almost as if he heard nothing else aside from that.

"Yeah, silly. My guy, like, my handyman" you smile at him, and if someone could get even more nervous, you're sure that Eddie just did, because he lets out a breathy laugh.

"Right. Your handyman guy, of course" and he shakes his head, smiling to himself a bit.

"So... can you do it?" you ask, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, no of course, sweetheart. Gimme a couple minutes and I'll be right over to you" he says smiling.

You head back to your apartment, leaving the door open for him to follow you with his toolbox, and Eddie feels like he’s lost every sense of reason when he enters and becomes surrounded by your scent.

The fabric softener you use has taken over every corner of your house, but he’s not complaining. Taking one last sniff for courage, he steps into the kitchen, where you’re sitting at, waiting for him.

“Alright, can I take a look at your washing machine?” he asks, tilting his head.

“Yeah, it’s right this way” you lead him to the laundry room, and Eddie’s suffocating. You’re everywhere.

He kneels in front of the machine and opens its door.

"What's this interview for anyway if it's got you actin' so nervous?" He says from inside the washing machine. He's fidgeting with the rubber at the opening, the hose.

"It's for this job at the school. I applied to teach at the middle school, but I'm not sure if they'll give it to me" you say, panic settling in. He's taking too long, you're done for. No clean shirt, no job.

"Nah, sweetheart, there's no reason why they shouldn't. You're incredibly smart, from all the books I've seen you read, your apartment is all books, you nerd" he starts laughing, and then stops.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to call you a nerd." He takes his head out of the washing machine. "I just- I know you're gonna do great. And if you don't maybe you can become my apprentice, would you mind passing me my flashlight?" he gives you a half smile.

Reaching for his toolbox you pass it to him.

"See? You're already perfect for the job, you're hired" he says, making you laugh. He smiles proudly to himself, and he's happy that you can't see him from inside the washing machine, because he's sure he's bursting with joy at the sound of your laughter.

"Thanks, Ed. I'll consider it." you say, and immediately after you hear a oh shit! coming from inside the machine. Concern washes over your face.

"Ed? What's wrong?" you say, as you carefully step closer towards him.

“I know what the problem is." He takes his head out again The rubber thingy that helps you close the thingy is broken” he says, like you understood what he meant.

“For a handyman you sure have your way with words” you laugh, and he doesn’t even care that he’s made a fool of himself by forgetting what the rubber gasket was called. Because he’s made you laugh.

"So how do I get this rubber thingy fixed, mr handyman?" you ask, voice still amused at how flustered he is.

"Well, I'd need to go down the hardware store and get a replacement, but it's 8PM, so I can't do anything about it now, sweetheart. Sorry" he says, and it breaks his heart to have to say no to you.

"Oh, okay." your voice sounds sad, it hurts him. "Thanks anyway, Eddie. I'll stop by the hardware store tomorrow morning before my interview if you wanna stop by in the afternoon and finish this?"

He thinks about it, about the interview. About how much you said you want the job.

"Wait, I have an idea. What if you wash your clothes in my washing machine for tonight? So you can have your shirt ready for your interview, then tomorrow I can go and get the gaskets to fix it. It's called a gasket, not rubber thingy" he says, playing with his hair.

"Ed it's fine, I can go get it" you say, trying not to blush at how gentle and kind he is "I'll take you up on your offer of using your machine, though. Thanks, Ed. You're too nice" you say, reaching for the basket of wet clothes on top of the dishwasher.

"Anytime, sweetheart. Y'know I take good care of my clientele" he says, smug smile on his lips. You giggle and fake a gasp.

"Are you cheating on me? Are you being someone else's guy?!" he laughs and goes along with it.

"Well, Mrs. Davis did ask me to fix her bathtub, after learning from someone that I fixed their sink" he said, a fake accusatory stare at you.

"You should get paid for this, Ed. You've already fixed my sink, my door hinges, helped me change my lock and now my washing machine. Soon the whole complex is gonna ask you to do their maintenance" you laugh.

"I do it out of the kindness of my heart" he says, taking a dramatic bow , then rises and leans against the washing machine. "Really, though, I don't mind doing it. I enjoy being helpful. I don't want your money, sweetheart"

"No, Eddie, I insist. I need to pay you, especially after you said you're getting the rubber thingy for me, what was it called again? A gusset?"

"Gasket" he says smiling, pointing a cheeky finger at you. Then the air becomes a bit tense, he stiffens up. You see him takes a deep breath, he's suddenly nervous which puts you on edge. Did you say something wrong? Then he speaks up again. "Tell you what, as a payment for my services, I pick you up Friday night at 7 and we have dinner. What do you say?"

Shit. You would not have pegged him for the type to be that smooth, but he had you. He liked you and he was sweet to you and he wanted to take you out to dinner. It helped that he was cute. There was no hesitation when you nodded your head yes.

"I say that's a great idea, Ed. I'll let you know how the interview goes. Should we go to your apartment?" you say. You notice the quizzical, borderline alarmed, look on his face.

"So I can wash my stuff, I mean" an awkward laugh escapes you as he motions for you to lead the way.

His apartment is the same layout as yours, but rather than books, his walls are filled with painted figurines, guitars, notebooks and DnD game sets. A true nerdy den.

"Um, the washing machine is down the hall. We have the same one, let me know if you need anything, okay?" he says, heading over to the couch, setting his toolbox down and picking up his guitar.

His laundry detergent is strong. The thought of this load of washing smelling like him makes your head spin.

After you've started the load, you head out of the laundry room and head over to the couch, where Eddie is. You swear his eyes glint a little when he sees you.

"Hey mr. handyman." you say, plopping down next to him "Keep playing, I'm just gonna watch you." You smile at him.

His face is concentrated, tongue darting out of his lips every once in a while. Cute, you think, a silly quirk that makes your mind travel to places that it should not even dare to go, you haven't even had your first date yet. God, you wanna kiss him.

He plays some aggressive guitar chords, one after the other, music sheets scattered on his knee, balancing precariously as he taps the rhythm with his head, his hair falling out of its confinements with each bob of his head.

"I hear you play sometimes." You interrupt. He raises his head, his hair has all fallen out of the bun and lays on his shoulders.

"What?" he says weakly.

"Sometimes, in the afternoon, because you're so respectful, I hear you play. And I- I just stop whatever I'm doing and listen to you and- and it's so cool. Your playing is so cool" you stop your ramble, because now he's staring at you and he's making you nervous. He's closer, and closer, and closer. And he's kissing you.

His lips are soft, albeit a bit too wet from all the times he's licked his lips to focus. His hand is on your cheek and it's big and warm and his breath is on you and you just melt into him. Soft kisses, quick kisses.

After what feels like hours, your mouth is open and you're reaching for his shirt, but he stops you, a puzzled look on your face. "Let's save this for another time, sweetheart." He says, and you can tell he's struggling to say no to you "I wanna take my time with you. Maybe after our date?" he gives you a sly smile and you think you have melted into the cushions.

"Can we cuddle, then?" you say shyly and he opens his arms for you to fall in, you take a deep breath. He's warm and smells nice.

"For a handyman you kiss really well" you say, laughing a bit. He jerks his head and quirks an eyebrow.

"How many handymen have you kissed?" his tone is dramatic and you know he's joking.

"None that I am aware of, but y'know, it could be a side job" You giggle.

"I thought I was your guy!" He says with a whine, and he makes you laugh like no man has ever made you laugh before.

“Maybe you can be my guy for real then” you say, smiling, finally holding eye contact with him.

“Yeah, I can be your guy, sweetheart.”

[lechrts]

Stuck With You. ✷ Ollie Bearman

Pairing: Ollie Bearman x Reader

Summary: When doing laundry at University on a late Tuesday night turns into something completely unexpected.

Word Count: 2.7k+

Disclaimer/s: University!au , forced proximity, fluff! ^_^

Vera's Voice! read this prompt on a boy and blog from like ages ago and it altered my brain chemistry so i had to write one myself. :3 Smirk. hope u enjoy!!!!

Tonight, you just wanted some peace—your roommate was at her boyfriend's and you finally had the alone time to deal with the overflowing basket of clothes that had been sitting at the edge of your bed for too long.

Finals week was the worst thing imaginable. There was so much to do that it ate at the back of your mind. No matter where you looked, just exams after exams after projects after projects. Just no escape.

Yeah sure, maybe the holidays was something to look forward to, but there was still another week to get through after.

The laundry room was usually this quiet on a late Tuesday night, save for the hum of fluorescent lights overhead. You didn’t mind. In fact, you’d picked this late hour on purpose. The place was usually crowded earlier in the evening, full of students loudly catching up or overall just not one available machine in sight.

Balancing the basket against your hip, you nudged the laundry room door open and stepped inside. Rows of washers and dryers gleamed under the artificial light and not a single person was in sight. It was almost calming, in its own weird way.

You walked toward the machine where your last wash of clothes sat. Dropping your basket to the floor with a small sigh, you waited for the last few minutes to finish up, watching the little window as your clothes swirled harmoniously which was oddly therapeutic.

The sound of the door creaking open behind you pulled you from your thoughts. You glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to see another late-night procrastinator like yourself.

And of course, a boy walked in, carrying his own basket of laundry.

He looked a little disheveled, as if he’d been buried in textbooks all day and had barely remembered to do his laundry at the last minute. His messy brunette hair stuck up in all directions, and there was a faint shadow of tiredness under his eyes.

He caught your glance, offering a small, polite smile as he walked past. “Hi,” He said, his voice low but friendly.

“Hi,” You replied, giving a little nod before retreating your gaze back to your laundry.

You didn’t think much of it at first—just two strangers in a shared space—but as you continued attempting to let your mind wander off, you became increasingly aware of him.

The way he moved, quietly but efficiently, as he loaded and unloaded his own washer a few machines over. The way his fingers fumbled with a stray sock that kept falling out of his basket.

You tried not to stare, but when you caught his gaze again by accident, he gave you another faint smile. This time, it lingered a little longer.

You felt a small warmth bloom in your chest, but you quickly shook it off.

It was just a smile...

Lock in. That was nothing.

The two of you were stood in silence, the only sounds coming from the soft clatter of clothes and the occasional beeping of buttons being pressed.

He finished loading his washing machine not long after and leaned back as well, standing a few feet away from you. The room wasn’t big, and the silence between you felt almost… companionable.

It wasn’t until your washer beeped that the quiet was broken. You moved to transfer your clothes to a dryer, and as if on cue..

So did he.

You both ended up standing in front of dryers a couple of machines apart, working side by side.

At one point, as you tossed in a handful of clothes, you glanced his way. He was doing the same, and when your eyes met, he smiled again—a little wider this time.

Now, with both of your dryers finally running, you both wandered toward the door, baskets now empty. You were so ready to head back to your dorm and get in bed to wait for the dryer to stop...

But, as he reached for the door handle first, giving it a firm push...

It didn’t budge.

Frowning, he tried again, this time pulling instead of pushing.

Nothing.

“Uhm… I think it’s locked?”

“Huh?” You stepped forward, your brow furrowing. “That can’t be right. It doesn’t lock from the inside.”

“Well, apparently it does..” He said, his voice almost playful, probably trying to lighten the mood of this worst case scenario as you rattled the handle again for good measure.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, already planning to call for help—only to see let out an unfortunate groan. “Well. My phone is dead.”

You winced. “I left mine in my dorm.”

You both stood there for a moment, staring at the uncooperative door as the realization sank in.

“So… we’re stuck?” You said finally.

The boy exhaled a soft laugh, brushing his hand through his messy hair. “Seems like it... but, could be worse,” He said, his tone casual.

“Yeah?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “How?”

He shrugged, leaning his hip against a counter and crossing his arms. “I mean, we’re not trapped in, like, a storage closet or something. At least we’ve got chairs.."

You couldn’t help but snort at that, shaking your head. “Yeah, you lost me." Your arms crossed as you leaned against the wall behind you, staring at the offending door.

"Definitely not how I saw my night going.”

“Me neither,” He sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I was kind of hoping to get this done, crawl back to my dorm, and pretend the day didn’t happen.”

You smiled faintly at that. “Rough day?”

“You could say that.” He tilted his head slightly toward you. “What about you?”

"Finals have been ruthless." You said calmly with a shrug. "Was hoping to cram some psych notes into my head for my exam tomorrow.. or, today, I mean." You continued.. adjusting your sentence since it was already “tomorrow.”

“Psych major, I'm assuming?” He asked lightly, his lips twitching up at the corners.

A small laugh escaped your tired body. "Ding ding." You said with a nod. "And let me guess, Engineering?" Your eyebrow quirked after giving him a good glance up and down.

"What?! How can you tell?" Your educated guess shocked him, but you laughed again.

"Well.. considering it's on your sweatshirt..." A small grin continued to linger on your lips as he looked down, probably feeling a little stupid now.

He glanced at his sweatshirt, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he realized the giant block letters spelling out ENGINEERING DEPARTMENT. “Wow,” He muttered, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish grin. “So observant.”

“Thank you,” You said, biting back a laugh and matching his sarcastic tone. “I like to think it’s one of my best traits.”

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and a little self-deprecating. “And here I was thinking I had some kind of mysterious vibe going on.”

“Honestly, nothing about you is screaming mysterious to me,” You teased, crossing your arms. “You're wearing race car pajama pants.”

"Oh, so you're a hater?" He said in mock offense. "How dare you."

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “The biggest."

“This whole scenario was actually the highlight of my day until you made fun of my outfit,” He said, his tone light and teasing, though there was a sincerity in his eyes that made your chest flutter.

You rolled your eyes, leaning your head back with a contagious smile. “That’s kind of sad, honestly.”

He laughed, a low, easy sound that filled the quiet room. “When your day starts with an 8 a.m. lab and ends with getting locked in a laundry room, the bar for excitement is pretty low.”

"Fair point." You gave him that with a nod. "Still, I feel like you should set your standards a little higher."

He tilted his head, as if considering you carefully, his smirk softening into something gentler. "Maybe I would if the bar wasn’t already set with you."

Your stomach plummeted. You blinked at him, thrown off entirely, and all you managed was a weak, “What?”

His grin widened, like he was enjoying every second of this. “You heard me.”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to mask how flustered you felt. “Are you flirting with me right now?”

“Depends,” he replied, his voice smooth, gaze lingering on you in a way that made it hard to breathe. “Is it working?”

You scoffed, desperate to regain control of the conversation. “Maybe... and this works on all the girls, I’m assuming?”

He didn’t even blink, his expression shifting into something softer but no less confident. “I don’t know,” He said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s my first time trying. What do you think?”

Your nervous walls were crumbling but you felt like you couldn’t fold just yet. “You are such a tease!”

The boy grinned at your flustered response, clearly enjoying himself. “Maybe,” he teased lightly, before his voice dropped just enough to make your stomach flip, “But I’m only a tease when the company is worth it.”

You opened your mouth to fire back, but no words came. You were done for—absolutely, embarrassingly done for.

“Is this your idea of passing the time?” You finally quipped, trying to sound unimpressed, though your voice wavered just enough to betray you. “Flirt with the first poor soul who happens to get locked in with you?”

He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up into an unmistakable smirk. “Only if she’s pretty.”

You froze. His words hung in the air for a beat too long, your mind scrambling to come up with something—anything��to say back. But you weren’t quick enough.

That'll do it.

“Ah.” He smiled, and there was something about the way he looked at you, like he was taking in every tiny detail—the curve of your blush-tinted cheeks, the way your eyes darted away, your nervous grip on your empty laundry basket. “Made you blush.”

“I—” You opened your mouth, then immediately closed it, flustered beyond saving. A laugh bubbled up from your chest instead, a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “You're crazy.. Are you usually this bold before even knowing someone's name..?"

“Right.. well, do I by any chance…” He paused for dramatic effect, his expression as cheesy as it was charming, “Get to know this pretty girl’s name?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and suddenly, the room felt warmer than it had five seconds ago. It was ridiculous how easily he had you cornered—like every playful remark of his chipped away at your resolve.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head with a helpless little laugh. “Wow. You’re a dork.”

“And yet,” He grinned, holding his gaze steady on yours, “You haven’t walked away yet.”

“Where am I supposed to go? We’re locked in,” You shot back, trying to sound exasperated, but your voice came out softer than you intended.

He chuckled under his breath, that same maddening confidence never faltering. “Fair point. But still… the name?”

You hesitated, biting your lip to stop the smile that threatened to break through again. Just say it, you’re embarrassing yourself at this point.

Finally, you sighed and muttered your name quietly through a small grin, hoping it didn’t sound too flustered.

His smile widened like he’d won some kind of victory. “There we go,” he said softly, like he was tucking the sound of your name into his memory. “And I'm Oliver." A pause.

"My friends call me Ollie, but, you can call me yours." His laugh was immediate, seeming like he couldn't keep a straight face saying that bit. It was clear sarcasm, but yet, it made you blush intensely. Your heart had skipped practically hundreds of beats.

Your jaw dropped, a laugh of shock escaped your mouth before the two of you bursted into a fit of giggles. "You did not just say that." Your voice squeaked, trying to calm down from the sudden serotonin boost.

“Not my proudest moment..” He giggled, his grin widening with that same impossible confidence. “But I’d think it landed pretty well.”

“You’re delusional." You shot back, but you couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped, no matter how hard you tried to sound annoyed.

Ollie leaned back slightly, his expression playful but observant. “Maybe. But I still got you to laugh, didn’t I?”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Only because it was that bad. Easily the worst line I’ve ever heard.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like you’d mortally wounded him. “That’s harsh.”

“Just being real,” You corrected, biting back a smile as you watched him pretend to recover.

“Well, clearly I’m going to need to try harder,” He sighed, already looking far too pleased with himself. “If I can’t impress you with words, I’ll just have to take you out, unfortunately." Another grin reappeared on his lips.

Way too fucking smooth.

"Take me out?" You asked, trying to sound casual, but there was a flutter in your chest you couldn’t ignore. Your voice wavered slightly, betraying the excitement you were trying to hide. "And where do you plan on taking me, Oliver?"

His eyes glinted mischievously, and a playful warmth spread through the space between you. "How does coffee after finals sound?" He suggested, his voice smooth, almost like he was offering you a secret only the two of you shared. "I know a new place that opened down town."

You felt your heart skip a beat, your breath catching for a moment. Coffee after finals? You couldn’t help but grin, your nerves melting away as his suggestion settled in. Something to finally look forward to, thanks to him.

You tried to play it cool, but inside, you were already picturing the two of you laughing over steaming cups, the world outside fading to a quiet hum.

“That sounds…” You softly grinned, feeling like a schoolgirl caught up in something way more exciting than just coffee. “That sounds nice.” You smiled shyly, only for your moment of calm to be interrupted by a loud clunk of the door handle.

A voice from the hallway cut through the air. "Oh no, not again." The RA appeared, shaking his head with a grin as he unlocked the door.

"You two get stuck? Happens all the time, you know. These doors lock automatically after 2AM."

You both turned toward him, trying to suppress your sudden surprise, already knowing what was coming. The RA gave you both an amused look as he held the door open.

“Well, doesn't seem like you two had the worst time..” He chuckled. “Carry on. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you so you can grab your laundry.”

You shot Ollie an amused glance. With the door now unlocked, you quickly made your way toward the dryers, laughing quietly as you grabbed the last of your clothes. The quiet, mundane task felt oddly intimate, especially with him standing beside you, his eyes lingering on you in that way that made everything feel more significant.

“So, after finals, you and me?” Oliver said softly, almost as though he was testing the waters again.

You shot him a playful look, feeling that flutter again, but this time, you didn’t try to hide it. “Yeah, you’ve got a date.”

He grinned wider than ever. “I’ll make it worth your while, promise.”

"Did you need my number...?" You quirked a brow, nearly laughing as he almost forgot a crucial detail.

Ollie blinked, his grin faltering for just a moment before his eyes lit up with realization. “Right, that might help,” He said with a sheepish chuckle, pulling out his phone and holding it out to you. 'Wait.. it's dead." He suddenly remembered.

You rolled your eyes with a grin. "Come with me back to my dorm and I'll give you my number real quick." You offered with a kind expression.

A playful glint in his eyes was visible as he smirked. "Inviting me to your dorm already? Let me take you out on our date, at least!" He mocked as you rolled your eyes in disbelief, but your sweet smile gave away the fluster behind it all.

"Such a dork." You snickered, brushing past him as he was quick to follow behind anyways.

likes, comments, and rebogs are appreciated! ^_^ , i fear he was giving bold frat boy which wasn't my intention but WHOOPS!... it's okay i hope.

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox

[mj0702]

You patted down the hallway still half asleep entering the kitchen where you stopped confused. Something was different but you couldn't pin point it. It... looked different. You shrugged it off still not functioning this early in the morning and patted over to the coffee maker. You pulled a cup from the cabinet while switching the machine on with your left hand which worked out semi fine. You put the cup down on the counter pulled open the fridge getting out the milk emptying some into the milk container from the coffee machine and put it back. That's when you realized what was off – the whole kitchen was spotless. No cups standing around. No used plates in the sink. No cereal boxes standing on the counter. No peels from fresh cut fruit. No nothing – spotless... the whole kitchen. You turned around confused to find the living room tidied up as well. The pillows on the couch laid out like a catalogue picture. The magazines on the table where laying in one place not like usual all over the living room. Narlas bed next to the couch – empty. You shook your head before making yourself a Cortado padding out on the balcony sitting down on Onas lounge chair overlooking Barcelona. You leaned back and enjoyed the little quiet time you had counting on your sister bursting through the door at any second coming back from her walk with Narla. You couldn't remember where Ona was but surely she had some media stuff or charity stuff or fan meeting stuff or whatever stuff to do. So it was Lucy & you day. That's okay. You could work with that – maybe you could guilt trip her into getting ice cream later. Ona banned ice cream from the freezer after Lucy and you had a ice cream eating competition and both of you got sick. For the whole night and Ona had to pick up the pieces that once resembled two tough Bronze women now whining for attention and care. You quietly drank your coffee then padded back inside washing the cup immediately before your sister was back and complained about you being messy.

Two hours later you got nervous. Lucy still wasn't back and her phone was off. You tried to call her a few times but no use. You were hesitant to call Ona since you couldn't remember what she was doing and you didn't want to interrupt a possible interview freaking out about probably nothing. So you called the next best person you could think of.

“Yes Kjæreste??” Ingrid answered her phone after the second ring

“Ehrm... hi... ehrm..” you suddenly felt very shy your mind going a million miles an hour why you called Ingrid instead of Alexia... or Olga... or Jenni for heaven sakes

“Kjæreste?? Is everything okay?? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come pick you up somewhere?” the Norwegians voice turned worried

“No... no I'm fine... but... I woke up two hours ago and Lucy still isn't home from walking Narls and I don't know what to do... I'm worried something happened... I don't want to call Ona since she's in some kind of stuff you guys have to do today...” you started to ramble and where met with silence from the other end “... I'm sorry... I'm probably just being stupid... just... forget I called... okay bye”

“Wait Kjæreste... don't hang up... give me a second...” Ingrid quickly said sensing you wanted to end the call

You listened as she quickly and quietly talked in spanish – too fast and too muffled for you to understand before she started to talking to you

“Mapí and I are on our way Kjæreste... you be good and stay put okay?!” the norwegian said and it confused you even more

“Oh god... something happened didn't it...” you paled and started to shake

“No nothing hap...” Ingrids reassurance fell short as you suddenly heard another voice

“Don't worry mi neña... we're on our way to pick you up... pack a bag okay... you staying with us” Mapí said and her happy voice calmed you down a little bit

“Where the fuck is my sister then??” you snapped

“Ehrm yeah... we'll have a meeting with Alexia as soon as we picked you up... we'll be there in ten minutes...” Mapí said and you heard guilt in her voice

“Ugh” you groaned but apparently you had no other choice “Okay...”

Exactly twelve minutes later the doorbell rang but when you tried to open the door you figured out it was locked

“Great Lucy... lock me in like fucking Rapunzel” you grumbled as you fumbled for your own key to unlock the door

“Hola mi neña” Mapís wide grin greeted you just as you opened the door

“You wanna tell me now what's going on??” you grumbled locking the door after you

“Alexia will do that” the blonde quickly said “I'm just here to help you with your... bag? No bag?”

“I would've packed a bag if I would've found one” your grumpy mood didn't rise with all the not informations you were receiving

“Ehrm... okay... uh uh uh...” Mapí said confuse first before she started to happily clap her hands “... we can go shopping later”

“Just...” you wanted do say something but didn't know what to said

“Come on.. Ingrid is waiting for us” the tattooed woman smiled widely

“Hola Kjæreste....” Ingrid smiled friendly as you slided into the back seat

“Hola” you grumbled

“What's wrong Kjæreste?” the norwegian asked as she started to drive towards Alexias

“I don't know... no one will tell me” you grumbled annoyed

“It's not our place lille venn... but you get your answers soon” Ingrid smiled softly not giving into your mood

The drive was just short of 20 minutes and as soon as Ingrid pulled into the drive way the door opened and a slightly stressed Alexia appeared in the door

“Buenos tardes Cariño” the blonde spaniard greeted you as you pushed passed her

“Yeah yeah... Buenos tartlet” you grumbled as you made your way into Alexias living room where Olga was sitting on the couch tipping away quickly on her laptop

“Buenos tardes pequeña” the dark haired woman smiled up at you before going back to her work

“Can somebody tell me know what is going on? Is Lucy dead... oh my god... she's dead isn't she...” you first grumbled and then got worried “She got herself killed didn't she?? Where's Narla... she's with Keira right?? Oh god... Keira... I should call Kei... why didn't I think of Kei earlier... wait... Kei is okay isn't she... I'm not an orphan ain't I....???”

“Cari...” Alexia said firmly gripping your shoulders so you looked at her “... breath.... calm down and breath”

“BREATH?? Kei AND Lucy are dead and you say “calm down and BREATH”??? Oh god... does Ona know??” you freaked out your breath coming out more and more rapid

“Y/n!! Breath!” Alexia said in her captains voice trying to get through to you “No one is dead – no one get killed”

“You think Ona will adopt me??” you freaked out further

“STOP” Olga now stood up freeing you from her girlfriends grip turning you around so you now had to look at her “Take a deep breath”

You looked at the woman with wide eyes but the shock of hearing Olga speaking so strictly with you made you do exactly what she said – so you took a deep long breath

“Bueno... again” the dark haired woman said more calm and you did it again “... muy bien”

“Now listen to me Cari...” Alexia came next to her girlfriend “... Lucy is very much alive... Keira too... and Ona too... and they all are very much on Vacation... and... and... and..”

“And what?” you squeaked out your breathing still a bit laboured

“... and they forgot that you were still at home” the blonde mumbled embarrassed

“They WHAT???” you screeched dumb folded

“The plan was that you're staying with Olga and I while Lucy and Ona went on holiday...” the blonde said calmly “... if you remember we talked about it about three weeks ago...”

“Yeah... I do remember now” you said still bewildered

“... so the plan included Ona and Lucy bringing you over this morning before they drive to the airport... they overslept this morning.... and rushed to the airport... and forgot... that you... where still... there” Alexia said embarrassed

“So.... so... they...” you stuttered “... I... home alone?? I'm Kevin?!”

There was a stunned silence before Mapí bursted out laughing which caused the rest of the women to started chuckling too

“Stop laughing... I'm Kevin...” you cried out in agony

“You're not Cari...” Alexia chuckled “... there was a misunderstanding”

“Did you have something for breakfast pequeña?” Olga now asked trying to distract you

“No....” you mumbled still a little upset

“Come on then... I'll make you some Huevo rotos con Jamon” the architect smiled pulling you away sending her girlfriend a look to talk to Mapí and Ingrid

“Uh... I want some too” Mapí perked up following until Alexia grabbed the shirt and pulled her best friend back

“No Maps... bad” Alexia scolded her voice light

“But... breakfast” the tattooed woman pouted

“You already had two breakfasts” Ingrid rolled her eyes at her girlfriend antics

“Three if you count...” Mapí said without thinking wriggling her eyebrows at Ingrid

“Stop talking” the norwegian interrupted her girlfriend quickly – and a little embarrassed

“Ew” Alexia deadpanned “... topic change... Lucy and Ona are gone for about two weeks... can you...”

“Yes” the tattooed woman quickly said very happily

“You don't even know what I wanted to say” the blonde spaniard looked at her friend confused

“We take her in... mi neña can stay with us” Mapí nodded happily

“What?? No... absolutely not” Alexia exclaimed “... she's staying here like Lucy and I discussed”

“She doesn't want to stay with you” the tattooed said as a matter of fact “... otherwise she would've called you and not me”

“She called me... not you” Ingrid pointed out

“We're a team... she probably wanted to call me but Ingrid is before Mapí in the alphabet and that's why she called you.. she knew I would be there” Mapí said convinced

“Yeah... sure....” the norwegian said not believing it one bit

“She's staying with us” Alexia interrupted before Maps could jump into a 15 minute monolog about how you wanted to stay with her “Discussion over”

“You can't just end over a discussion without respecting the other party” the tattooed woman said perplex

“Oh but I can...” the blonde answered sweetly “... I'm pulling the elder and capitan card”

“But...” Mapí looked defeated

“Discussion over” Alexia just said while Ingrid snorted behind her girlfriend

“You can always call me if she's mean to you okay mi neña?” Mapí said as she fought Ingrid who tried to shove her girlfriend through the door

“Yeah okay... thanks Maps... you're really a good spaniard” you smiled

“HA!!! YOU HEARD THAT PUTELLAS???!!! I'M THE GOOD SPANIARD!!!” the tattooed woman yelled towards the living room using her whole weight against Ingrid

“AND I'M THE PRETTY ONE!!! NOW GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Alexia yelled back “And Cari... living room.. now”

“I didn't do anything!!” you screeched but shuffled down the corridor once Ingrid succeeded by poking Mapís side so she had to let go and the norwegian used the moment to push her girlfriend forward and through the door

“I didn't say you did... BUT... we have to talk about some things” the blonde said softly gesturing for you to sit down “... we're responsible for you and your well-being”

“... at least some one...” you mumbled as you plopped down on the couch

“Don't pequeña... you know neither of them meant it” Olga stroked through your hair as she passed the couch

“... as I said... we're responsible for you... so there are gonna be rules” the blonde said keeping her voice soft “... I want to know where you are when you're not with me or Olga... just if something happens I know where I need to go okay... just a short text nothing more... you don't have to explain anything just a short text where you are or going to be and we're good... if you break that rule I won't hesitate to drag you to any event I have scheduled for the next two weeks”

“But I don't wanna be on your boring events” you whined

“Then you inform me about your whereabouts and we're good” Alexia said smiling lovingly “... second rule... I want you home for dinner... if you can't make it you'll call or text – either Olga or myself”

“I'm not five” you grumbled

“Could've fooled me” the blonde smirked “.... rule no. 3 …. if you need anything or need to talk.. I want you to know that you always can talk to me or Olga okay...”

“Can I have some food?” you perked up making Alexia laugh

“Sure... Ona told me you like cuttlefish” the blonde chuckled when you looked at her with shocked wide eyes “... no?”

“Ew no!!” you squeaked disgusted

“Alexia....” you whispered waiting for a reaction “.... Lexia”

Other than a grunt there was no reaction at all

“Alexia” you said with more insistence shaking the Barca captain

“Qué?” the blonde mumbled sleepily

“Ale...” you shook the blonde harder so she would wake up a little more

“Sí?” Alexia sat up a little confused

“Ale...” you whined a little bit

“What's wrong Cari?” the blonde now asked worried

“I can't sleep....” you mumbled “... can I sleep here?”

“You... what?” Alexia looked confused

“She wants to sleep here...” Olga mumbled tiredly from behind Alexia “... so make space for her and both of you go back to sleep”

Before Alexia could reject anything you quickly shuffled your body in the small space between Alexia and Olga cuddling up to the brown haired woman as her blonde girlfriend turned around facing the two of you when a smile crept onto her face

“Don't even think about it Putellas” Olga said her closed eyes her voice a little muffled by your hair

“Motherhood suits you” Alexia grinned as she scooted a little closer seeing that you were asleep already feeling safe in Olgas presence

“We talk in a week again... this was just one day... she's a handful” Olga said and as she finished you got more comfortable ramming your elbow into Alexias stomach unconcussionly

“Madre mía” the blonde grunted

“Told you...” her girlfriend smirked

“ALEXIAAAAA!!!” you yelled through the apartment

“Yes?” the blondes head appeared in the kitchen door

“I'm hungry” you whined as you exit your room

“Jesús y María...” Alexia rolled her eyes “... is there a time where you aren't hungry?”

“I'm a Bronze...” you deadpanned “... of course not”

“I have another interview and then we can make something for lunch okay? 30 minutes top” the blonde said

“Can I have chips meanwhile?” you asked hopefully

“No...” the blonde shot that idea down quickly

“But I'm hungryyyyyyy” you whined loudly

“30 Minutes Cari...” Alexia tried to calm you down “... here... eat that”

“That's one big ass peach” you said with wide eyes your mood instantly increased

“That's a mango” the blonde said flatly

“Oh ew... soap peach.. no...” you threw the mango back at Alexia

“Cariño... please... I really have to do that interview” Alexia basically begged you at this stage

“Can I have a sandwich?” you whined again

“I just told you I'll make lunch in half an hour” the blonde look at you bewildered

“But I'm hungry now” you groaned

“ONE sandwich...” Alexia pointed her finger at you threating before turning to her laptop waiting for the online interview to begin – and it began right when she said “Single motherhood is so hard”

Needless to say she broke the internet that day with fans speculating about a possible little Putellas.

“I can't take her with me on Thursday” Olga said after she checked her calendar “... I have an important meeting”

“Mierda...” Alexia sweared glancing at you sitting on the couch munching on some churros Olga made for you watching some spanish soap opera “... I have the whole day full with interviews and media for Barca and Eleven”

“We could ask Ingrid” the dark haired woman said

“No... she's with me for Barca...” Alexia wrecked her brain trying to find a solution “... and I definitely won't leave her with Mapí... I have no desire to have to go to court for some shit they pulled off”

“Marta and Caro?” Olga try to find someone as well

“They're in Norway right now... visiting Caros family” the blonde mumbled her phone in her hand going through her contacts

“I'm out... I have no idea who to ask” the dark haired woman held her hands up in surrender looking past Alexia “Ay... stop jumping on the couch... sit your ass down or no more churros”

“But it's so enthralling” you answered your eyes glued to the TV

“I don't care... ass down” Olga said strictly and you slowly sat down again

“Again... motherhood suits you” Alexia glanced up from her phone smirking

“Don't Putellas... you fucked that one right up... single motherhood my ass...” Olga grumbled

“Not my fault they started early...” the blonde snorted before lifting her phone to her ear

“Who are you calling?” the dark haired woman asked

“My last resort for Thursday” Alexia mumbled waiting for the call to connect and when it does she didn't even bother with the typical hellos “... what are you doing Thursday Hermoso?”

[m-jelly]

Heyy! I Hope you‘re doing well and you‘re healthy. I really love your writing and especially where Levi is very possessive and obsessed with reader. May I ask for a NSFW where Levi is hunting the reader and where he really really gets horny and AND I‘LL LEAVE THE REST TO YOU BUT HE HAS TO HUNT US PLS!! <3

@ladycheesington <3

Run, little rabbit.

Levi x fem reader.

Mafia Levi, being a couple, dom Levi, teasing reader, horny Levi, mention of safe word, unprotected, smut, fluff.

You send Levi teasing texts all day and even left panties in his pocket. Levi hurries home, but you leave a note saying you're hiding and he has to find you. Wound up and horny, Levi hunts for your cute behind.

Another boring meeting about managing his businesses was beginning to get irritating. To make things worse, he was apart from you, and you were sending him the most filthy messages. All he wanted was to be at home with you.

Levi pulled his phone out and saw this time you'd taken a photo of you standing with your back to the mirror with only a bra on. He admired your biteable bum but then it hit him. Where were your panties?

He frowned and texted you where they were. He tilted his head. "Check your breast pocket." You reached into the breast pocket of his blazer and felt lace. Your panties were inside his blazer. "Fuck..."

Arousal consumed Levi. He held back a smile at how naughty you were being, he wanted nothing more than to punish his kinky brat. He placed his phone in his pocket and decided he was going home to play with you.

He rose to his feet. "Tch, "I'm done. I'm going home." He turned and walked out. "Don't contact me."

The journey home was a blur for him, all he could think about was you and your panties. He gripped them in his hand as he went up to his penthouse. He expected to find you there, but the entrance area was empty. The only thing Levi saw was a note on the side.

Levi kicked his shoes off, hung up his blazer and began rolling his sleeves up as he approached the note. He looked down at the note to see you'd written you were hiding and he had to find you. A primal pleasure ran through him. It was time to hunt.

He ruffled his hair making it messy. "Oh, little bunny?" He sang those words. "Where are you?"

He went right to the bedroom expecting to find you there, but you weren't. He frowned a bit and felt silly for assuming you would be ready for him in bed. He let out a growl before slamming his walk-in closet door open. Still no bunny.

Levi winced as his erection strained against his trousers. "Bunny!" He looked around. "I will find you." He walked to the balcony stairs above the living room and heard the patting of your feet as you ran from one hiding spot to another. "I can hear you, little bunny." He chuckled. "So cute how you hop around the house while there is a very hungry big bad wolf around."

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw a picture of you lying on your back, breasts almost falling out of your bra and a smile on your face. Fuck, he loved you more than anything in this world. You were his sexy little bunny.

He climbed down the steps and looked around the living room. "Hmm, how curious. I was sure I heard a bunny hopping around here."

He pushed the door open with the washing machine and tumble dryer in. He looked around all the spots, but you weren't anywhere to be found. He clicked his tongue as the phone went off again. He looked at the picture to see you were slipping off your bra.

Levi released a moan. "Bunny, don't you dare take that off without me!" He hurried around the kitchen, but couldn't find you. "Oh, when I get you bunny I am going to fuck you so hard that you'll lose your voice!" He heard a squeak coming from his office, his words had aroused you. He smirked. "Found you..."

You covered your mouth with your hand and winced a bit. "Damn it."

Levi slammed the door open and locked eyes with you. "Found you."

You squealed and tried to run away, but Levi wrapped an arm around you and lifted. "Ah!"

"No escaping me, little bunny." He licked your ear before nipping it. "I found you far and square." He pressed his erection against your bum. "Can you feel what you've done to me?"

You giggled. "You're very hard. Is that all for me?"

He held your neck, tilted your head to the side and bit the side of your neck. "Yes. Know where I can put it?"

"I know just the place."

He lifted you up before carrying you to the door, he pressed you against it and yanked his cock out of his trousers and boxers. "Safeword is cherry."

You shivered. "Yes."

He ran his tip up your felt folds before pressing just a little into your welcoming hot hole. He grabbed your hips and slammed himself deep into you. He smiled when you screamed in pleasure. He didn't give you a moment to comprehend what was happening because he started pounding away into you like a madman possessed.

He admired how your buttcheeks jiggled with every smack of his hips against yours. He panted a little as he felt nothing but pleasure as you clenched around him. You were so hot and wet, it was always a euphoric delight to make love to you or animalistically fuck you.

You clawed at the door as your legs began to shake, your arousal ran down your legs and dripped on the floor. You were so overwhelmed with pleasure that your whole body was shaking, you couldn't even touch yourself if you wanted to.

Your legs almost buckled under you when you felt a surge of pleasure, your orgasm was consuming, and you were losing your mind. "Levi!" You dragged your nails down the door. "Fuck!"

Levi grunted at your walls fluttering around his cock. "Mm, good girl but I'm not done with you yet."

You mewled. "Levi."

"Relax, darling, I know you can take it."

Your eyes rolled back into your head as one other Levi's hand wrapped around your neck and the other reached around to play with your clit. You felt yourself drooling as you lost your mind to pleasure. When you sent those texts and photos to Levi, you never would have imagined he would have gone this wild, you must have really gotten to him this time.

You leaned your head back and cried out. "Oh god."

Levi moaned against your ear. "No god, only me, darling." He turned his head and whispered against your ear. "Now sing my name."

You chanted and moaned Levi's name like it was a prayer. No matter what you did all you could feel was pleasure, all you could think was Levi. The man had infected you like some incubus, a demon being designed for your pleasure and was more aroused by you getting off.

Levi chased and longed for your orgasms and moans, the more bliss you were experiencing the better. Everything about you was his kink so making sure you were happy was everything to him. Hearing you moan and sing his name was heavenly.

Normally, you and Levi would be at it for a while, but due to his rough actions, he knew that you'd be very sensitive and reach your limit. So, he dragged his cock out of you to see your arousal was clinging to his cock and connecting the two of you.

He turned you around on your weak legs before pressing your back against the door. "I'm going to cum inside you. I want you to look at me when I do."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and whined. "Le-Levi."

"You can do it, bunny." He pressed deep into you making you whine. "You've done it before."

You mewled. "Levi."

He crashed his lips against yours and moved his tongue passionately in your welcoming mouth. His heart raced as his need built up inside him. He did enjoy ravaging you, but there was just something so perfect about kissing you as he moved deep inside you.

You hummed as your toes squeezed tightly at your coil tightening. You clawed and pulled at Levi's shirt as you felt the impending explosion of an orgasm, one that you knew was going to wreck your body. You just held on and let your body go.

Levi grunted when your body shook from bliss. He couldn't hold back any longer. He pressed himself in as deep as possible before pouring his cum into you. He bucked a few times to try and get every pump of his hot seed deep into your pussy.

He pulled from your lips and panted a little. He grunted a bit before softly calling your name, his dominant role now gone. "Are you okay?"

You hummed and nodded. "Y-Yes."

He dragged himself out of you and sighed. "I love you so much."

You smiled softly. "I love you too." You kissed him weakly. "How are you feeling?"

"Good, mainly worried about you."

You hugged him tightly. "You're such a good kitty."

"I am." He squeezed you and carried you to the bathroom. "Clean up." He wiped up between your legs as you shook a little. "That should be everything."

You licked your lips. "Did you like your surprise?"

"Loved it." He leaned close and kissed you. "Thank you." He cleaned himself before tucking himself away and carrying you to the kitchen. "Let's get you something to drink and a snack."

You carefully took the bottle of water. "Mm, so shaky and weak."

"Sorry."

You giggled as Levi kissed your cheek and neck. "Don't be. I always love it. Plus, I didn't say Cherry."

"You didn't, but you know what I'm like. I'll always worry about you because I'm madly in love with you." He cleaned your face up. "My darling love. Mine."

"Yours."

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @anti-cupid @abiatackerman

[v1x3n]

S T E R E O T Y P I C A L

simon 'ghost' riley x reader ⸝⸝ navigation

୨୧ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 : a serial killer haunts your town, but unfortunately for you there had to be one classic dumb, hot girl!

୨୧ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 : angst (?) - serial killer, stupid moves that would piss you off, subtle pantie stealing, knocked out.

you saw the news, all the stories online, you saw how everyone in the uk were panicked at the unknown serial killer going around. missing people rocked up dead, all around where you lived. your town was scared shitless.

you were scared, everyone had their doors and windows constantly locked. no one was out on the streets due to fear, the wind whistled and the town was near silent. weapons were handed out, you gripped hard onto a knife as you hear a loud bang outside. peaking through the window just to see your neighbours cat rummaging through a fallen bin. you groan and quickly look along to street, you knew it was a stupid move but you unlocked the front door.

stupid pretty girl move in a horror movie, right?

you tip toe outside, knife still held tight in your hand and you run over to grab the kitty. she meows and licks your fingers, you kiss the top of her head, "what you doing out here" grumbling to the cat, stomping back over to the house. stepping back inside and slamming the door back into place. plopping the kittycat onto the wooden floors so you could lock the door, "cmon baby" you coo and bend down to pet the cat. "ill get you some food, hm?" lightly walking into your kitchen.

opening up your fridge and pulling out some chicken from last night, you pull out a few pieces, placing them onto a plate and putting said plate onto the floor. clinking the side of the dish so the fluffy cat came running.

the cute little kitty was your neighbours cat, oreo, black and white little thing. her fur was fluffy and soft, slightly damp currently due to it rummaging through all the bins in the street and other shenanigans she would get up too. she was very cuddly and loved you, she constantly showed up at your door or in your garden, at your window.

you look over at the cat and smile at her chomping away, grabbing a small bowl and filling it up with cold water. placing it beside her.

sighing whilst looking through your kitchen window, glancing at the cat and you let out a second sigh. looking down at the the phone you pulled from your pocket. it was midnight, time for bed i guess.

soon you make sure the kitty is okay before heading upstairs. an eyebrow raises as you have a bad feeling deep in your stomach as you step through your bedroom door. peaking in and letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

walking back to your bed and grabbing the clothes you had scrupled up on your bed to take downstairs after your shower. the cute jeans, the small tank top, your scratty bra you needed to replace andd... your panties. which were misplaced. odd.

you look around your room, maybe you had dropped them? but after you check, nothing. you sigh, okay, that's fine. you're clumsy and had better things on your mind right now, you probably put them somewhere else whilst thinking of that psycho. yeah, thats sounds like you.

trotting back downstairs with your dirty washing in hand, oreo screeches. "hey hey, what's wrong " you mutter and bend over to pick up the kitty. cuddling her in your arms, walking through the kitchen to put away the clothes. you plop them in the washing machine and pepper the top of the cats head with kisses. "big scaredy cat, ain't ya?" cooing at the kitty , turning your eyes over to the living room before you started walking back in. "cmon kitty kitty" you softly say, your eyes look up at the front door. wait. you could've sworn you locked the door. the wooden door peaked up, a gust of air slipping through the slip in the door. you drop the cat, quickly looking down to see if the cat was okay - she was, so your eyes so back to the door. you quickly slam it shut, locking it up once more.

"hello?" you call out, stupid move. a creaking sounded from your stairs while you carefully step up them. water fills your eyes and you grab your phone, it dropping instantly to the floor as you jump, the sound of a deep booming voice pops out from behind you, "hello sweeth'art" you turn around and you sniffle, going to step back but the man steps forward you, "don't be scared" he mockenly coos.

you take a good look at the man, a scary mask plastered on his face and his whole body covered in black. fuck, he was big though. muscles making the dirty clothes almost rip, the only piece of skin showing was his eyes, gorgeous light brown eyes that stared into your soul. his pupils dialated at the sight of the poor girl, crying in front of him. so so scared. you peer down at his hand as it raises towards you, making you flinch back and run up the stairs. quickly sprinting to your room and slamming the door shut. looking down at your hand to see that, fuck, you dropped your phone. slight banging could be heard from outside, it was probably just him walking, he was fucking humongous. "hide and seek? fun" he chuckles, grabbing a lamp he found from a table in the hallway. he knocks your door and you scramble to the corner of the room, tears flow uncontrollably from your tear ducts.

after moments of silence, he jolts the door and it creaks open, you knew you should've gotten more locks. you sob in the corner as his shoes step forward.you meet eyes with him - sight trailing down to the lamp in his hand. he instantly sees you cuddled up in the corner, crying your eyes out. "love, divnt cry, to pretty f' tha'" he steps forward once more until eventually he was in front of you, he kneels down. you push your face away from him, "look at me, hun"

you sniffle once more and your fingers clench onto the ground below you. the masked man grabs your chin and forced you to look up at him, "gorgoeus thing" he hums.

"you know what?"

"w-what" you whisper.

"yer a doll, might keep you." was all you could hear before an object, the lamp, hits the side of your head. effectively knocking you out - your body slumps to the side.

[christronomy]

cw : perv chan kinda, stepcest, age gap (chan is older but reader is still of legal age), groping kinda?? cheating basically (don't read this if you're uncomfortable with these topics)

been thinking about stepdad chan fucking you behind your mom's back. he'd always showed interest in you from the first time you met, but you didn't pay any mind to it. it all started off as some light banter between the two of you, until it progressed to him putting his hands on your waist whenever he walked past you, flirting with you, even getting handsy when your mom wasn't looking, even if she was in the same room. sometimes he'd grab your ass or touch your thighs, and then laugh it off when he saw you jump slightly in your spot from the unexpected contact. you never made any effort to stop him, so he took that as a green light to continue, which meant his behavior progressed even more. it's not like you wanted him to stop, though. you actually kinda wanted to know what he'd do next.

there were really no complaints about him so far—he was a pretty good looking guy (that's an understatement, he's ridiculously attractive), he was kind, always put others before himself, had an insanely attractive accent, he treated your mother so much better than your asshole of a father did, and you can't forget those pretty plump lips of his, the ones that were working on your clit not too long ago, which brings us back to the present moment.

it's not like you wanted him to stop anyways, not when he was now fucking you from behind in the laundry room, your body sprawled over the washing machine, one of his hands covering your mouth to muffle your pathetic moans while his other hand was wrapped snugly around your neck. your mom was cooking dinner in the kitchen, which was a few rooms away, but she had no idea. she was under the impression that chris had gone to shower and that you were finishing up some chores, and the loud whirring sound coming from the extractor hood was enough to cancel out any sound that came from other parts of the house. he already has you dumb on his cock in a matter of minutes, the exhilaration of possibly getting caught causing adrenaline to shoot through your veins, and the feeling of him practically splitting you open made you dizzy with excitement. not to mention the absolute filth he's spitting in your ear. "you like older men like me 'cause they're more experienced, right? they know how to use their cock to please greedy little cunts like yours."

he'll cum inside you and pull your underwear up for you, sticking the fabric up your dripping hole with his fingers to make sure not a single drop of his cum leaks out, then he'll make you sit at the dinner table without cleaning up, because nothing gets him more excited than knowing that your mom has no idea what events ensued moments before, as you sit all pretty with your legs crossed, cause you're trying your best to keep his seed inside you until dinner's over like the good girl you are for him.

[kpop---scenarios]

Dark Book Series (1) - Masked

Pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

Warning: A lot of mentions of murder, blood, and smut. [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

Word Count: 5.4k

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght @skittlez-area512 @skzdust @gnabnahcsworld @onlyhyunjin @stephanieeeyang @lostasoulinthedarkness @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @iam-wh0

@ayyonoona

Felix | Hyunjin | Lee Know | Changbin | Jisung | Chan | Seungmin | Jeongin

“You're not still seeing Felix are you?” Your best friend, Yujin asks, switching her load of laundry from the washer and putting it into the dryer.

You turn your head to look at her and laugh. “Yeah.” You smile. “We've been seeing each other for a few months. Why?” You ask, also switching your load. She was only at the laundromat with you because the machines in your building broke and your landlord is too much of a cheap ass to get them fixed. Though Yunjin has her own home, the both of you prefer the bulky washer and dryer at the shop, so you can do a bigger load.

She bites her lip, glancing down at her phone, typing things in, holding it to her chest as she speaks. “Listen… I'm not saying it's him for sure. But you remember that coworker you were having issues with? June?” She mumbles.

**

“Oh my god! June!” You exclaim. “Look at this.” You say, waving her over. June rolls her eyes as she gets up from her desk, shuffling over to you.

“What?” She snaps.

“We overpaid to the LCC. Look. Like, 8 thousand dollars too much.” You say, pointing to the payment total. “I'll go tell Soobin.” You say, pushing away from your desk.

“No!” She yells. “I'm already up, I'll go tell him.” She finishes, walking away from your desk. You watch her walk over there, faintly hearing every few words she tells him.

“Overpaid…8 thousand… Y/N.” Oh good. She mentioned it was you who found it. You were worried for a second that she would try to take the credit. She had been absolutely fucking awful to you as a mentor the last few months. Nothing you did was ever good enough in her eyes, even the teeniest, tiniest mistake, she pointed out, rather loudly, calling you an idiot. This happened on multiple occasions.

“Y/N.” Soobin calls out. “My office, please.” He says, gesturing June into his office, just as you see your department head walking straight towards Soobin's office. This made your stomach turn. What was going on?

You got up from your chair, making your way down the little corridor hallway down to his office, behind the head of the department. You step inside, closing the door, taking the last seat available as everyone stares at you.

“What happened with the LCC?” Mr. Jung, the head of the department, asks you.

“I was just relooking at the invoice today and noticed that it was overpaid.”

“By 8 thousand dollars?” He asks. “Who paid them?”

“June did.” You say, gesturing to her. She scoffs at you.

“I'm not an idiot like you, Y/N. I would never overpay like that.” She says. “Y/N paid the invoice.” She says, smirking at you.

“W-what?” You gasp. “No I didn't. It has June's name on it.”

“Do you even know how to read?” June laughs. “Who hired this one?” She chuckles, looking between Soobin and Mr. Jung.

“You liar!” You snap. You can feel the tears brimming in your eyes.

“Y/N, enough.” Mr. Jung says. “We will conduct our own investigation. You both enjoy the rest of your day. It's 5 pm, so go home.” He finishes. You stand up first, walking out of the office, while June calls your name, but you ignore her. You didn't want to deal with her, only thinking about the fact that your new boyfriend was down on the sidewalk waiting for you.

As fast as you can, you gather your belongings, unfortunately still meeting June at the elevator. The ride down to the ground floor is quiet. You can feel your ears turning red as you fume. The bell dings, opening the door, and you walk out quickly, not bothering to hold the door for June. The second you see Felix, it's like a sense of relief washed over you. You walk straight to him, his arms wrapping around you, holding you closely.

“June's a bitch.” You mumble into him, just as the door opens, out walking the bitch herself.

“Can you take your PDA elsewhere?” She scoffs. “No one wants to see that.”

“I'm going to guess you're June.” Felix says, pulling away from you.

“I-I am.” She says.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Y/N’s boyfriend, Felix.” He says, extending his hand. She shakes it, but winces. You not noticing how hard Felix was squeezing it. “I hope you're treating my girl well.” He finishes, releasing her hand. She nods her head, wiggling her fingers as she walks away.

“I don't like her.” Felix laughs, opening the car door for you.

“Mhm, me either.” You mumble, getting into the passenger seat. Not noticing the smile that spread across Felix’s lips as he made his way to the driver's seat.

**

“Yeah? What about her?” You ask, feeling nervous. You glance around the laundry shop, it's quiet for a Saturday night.

Yujin turns her phone screen to face you, showing you the latest news article.

“Woman - 57, Found Dead In The Park.” You mutter, scrolling down slightly. “June Erikson, 57 who was an employee at JPH accounting, Found dead this morning from multiple stab wounds…” You trail off.

Yujin looks at you with wide eyes, placing her phone back in her lap. “That's so sad. Oh my god. I feel awful for her family.” You sigh.

“That's it?” Yujin exclaims. “That's how you react to that news?” She asks.

“I'm sorry?” You say. “How am I supposed to react?”

“You're supposed to be scared!” Yujin yells. “Felix did this!”

“What? Why?” You laugh. “Do you know something I don't?”

“I'm telling you, Y/N. It was Felix. You complained about her a lot. Think about it.”

**

“Oh my god. I can't deal with her anymore!” You exclaim to Felix. “Everyday it's something.”

“Baby, it's only Monday.” Felix laughs. “What happened?”

“She told everyone that I fucked up an account, and it wasnt me! I don't even have access to that account!” You whine.

“Just breathe, baby. Tomorrow will be better.” He says, placing a kiss on your lips.

~

“So how was it today?” Felix asks, as you slide into the car.

You sit there with your arms crossed, sniffling. You're trying not to cry but June was horrendous to you and you hated her so much.

“Maybe tomorrow.” Felix sighs, resting his hand on your thigh as he drives away from your work.

The next three days were all the same. June was relentless to you, she never let up, she was never nice and you so desperately wanted to quit even though you absolutely loved your job. She was just the worst part of it the entire thing.

“Oh babe.” He sighs, wrapping you in a hug. “You won't have to worry about her for much longer.” He smiles.

**

“Okay?” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “I complained about her to you as well. Are you sure you didn't kill her?” You ask.

“You know I'd never do that!” She scoffs.

“Just like I know he wouldn't do that either.” You sigh. “You really gotta stop this.”

“I'm sorry, I don't believe it wasn't him. Remember the night you met?” She asks.

It never fails, Anything Felix does or says has her bringing up that night.

*

“Fuck men!” You scream, your friends dragging you down the street, as you all drunkenly laugh, enjoying your night out. You had just broken up with your last boyfriend, a real piece of shit, and you were so happy to be free, and able to have fun and do what you want.

“Fuck you, bitch!” Some man yells, glaring towards you and your friends.

“Aww, did that upset you? Someone's got small dick syndrome.” You laugh, yelling back as they try to drag you away.

“The fuck did you say to me?” He screams, rushing towards you. He stomps towards you, screaming, spit flying from his mouth as he approaches you, waving his finger. You close your eyes, tensing up as you wait for some sort of impact, but it doesn't come. You open one eye, peaking out, seeing a man standing in front of you, the man who was previously screaming at you, stopped in his tracks.

“You better watch what the fuck is gonna come out of your mouth next.” he snaps, no hint of humor in his very deep voice.

“This doesn't involve you.” The man scoffs, trying to move past the man who was helping you. He doesn't get very far, the man helping you, grabs the other by the collar, pulling him in close.

“You take one more fucking step, and I'll kill you and your whole fucking family. Understood?” He asks.

The man looks at you, muttering something about you not being worth it, before pushing the man off of him, turning around to go back to his friends.

The man who helped you turned around, and you felt like you had died and gone to heaven. He was the most attractive man you had ever seen. Blonde hair slicked back, dark eyes and a sinister smile.

Just your type.

“Thank you…” You trail off, unable to take your eyes off him.

“Felix.” He laughs.

“Thank you, Felix.” You smile, slowly shaking his hand. You were so mesmerized by him, you couldn't look away.

“Y/N…” Your friend, Jennie, urges, grabbing your shoulders.

“Come on. Let's go.” Jisoo whispers, pulling on your other hand.

You smile at Felix, walking backwards with your friends, still staring at him as he smiles, watching you walk away. From that moment on, you knew he'd be yours.

“That was fucking weird.” Yujin says, laughing. You can tell it's her uncomfortable laugh, she didn't like him right off the bat.

“It was hot.” You say.

“You're a psychopath.” Yujin shivers.

*

“He was just trying to protect me. And you, Jennie and Jisoo. He's not a bad man. I don't know why you can't just look past that.” You huff, grabbing your clothes from the dryer. “Look, I gotta go. Felix is waiting for me. Just please try to give him a chance?” You half smile, leaning in for a quick side hug, hoping things between her and Felix would get better.

A few weeks later, Jennie, Yujin and Jisoo had finally agreed to go out with you and Felix. You were so excited that all your favorite people were going to be in the same room, getting to know each other and hopefully finally getting along.

“I don't know why she doesn't like me.” Felix sighs, the two of you sit in a quiet pub where the music isn't as loud, people are calmer and the atmosphere is a little more relaxed.

“She will babe, I promise.” You smile at him, grabbing his hand. “Tonight she'll see how great you are.” You finish, leaning in for a quick kiss.you hear the bells on the door ringing, along with loud chatter. You can already tell it was your friends coming in. You turn around smiling and waving them over to the table, you and Felix already were sat at.

“Hi guys.” You smile as they all sit across the table from you two. “What's going on?” You ask.

“Jennie was just telling us about Hyunjin, she thinks he's going to propose.” Jisoo giggles. Your mouth drips as you grab her hands.

“Oh my god! That's so exciting!” You shriek. “Aw, you'd make the most beautiful bride.” You gush. You glance over at Felix, who's smiling, watching you with your friends.

“Sorry babe.” You laugh. “I’d officially like you guys to meet Felix.” You say, pointing to him. “Felix, this is Yujin who you sort of know, Jisoo and Jennie.” You say, pointing out each one. Felix stands up, shaking each one of the other hands, Jennie and Jisoo giggling as they look at him, but Yujin is straight faced, giving him a little smile.

She was going to be tougher than you thought.

“What do you guys want to drink?” You ask. They all give you their drink orders, Felix slides you his card with a wink, as he begins to talk to your friends, Jennie and Jisoo already immersed in the conversation as Yujin sits back with her arms crossed, observing the interactions.

“Hi.” You smile at the bartender. “Can I get 3 vodka crans, one vodka and sprite, a rum and coke and then 5 shots of tequila please?” You ask, setting down Felix’s card.

“Need some help, darling?” You hear a deep voice from behind you. You smile, turning around, expecting to see Felix but instead you're met with the face of a man you don't know.

“No thank you.” You say politely, grabbing a few drinks, taking them to your table and heading back to the bar for the rest.

“You sure? A pretty girl like you can't do everything yourself.” He winks.

“I'm good. Thanks.” You say, grabbing the rest of the drinks. The man grabs your wrist, holding you in your spot. By the time you look up at him, Felix has already gotten up and made it to you, grabbing the man's arm and pulling it off of you.

“She said she was good, man. Take the hint.” Felix says, taking a few drinks from your hand, and moving out of the way for you to go first. You blush as you make your way back to your seat, Jisoo and Jennie giggling at the interaction that just happened.

You didn't notice Felix turning his head to glare at the man, but Yujin sure did. A few hours later, Felix gives you a long kiss, heading to the bathroom, while you girls drunkenly gush about anything and everything.

“Thoughts, feelings, concerns?” You ask, as soon as Felix is out of ear shot.

“I like him!” Jennie exclaims.

“Me too!” Jisoo smiles.

“I don't like him.” Yujin yawns. “He's fake. He's acting and I don't fucking like it.” She snaps.

“You're never going to be happy for me, are you?” you sigh, feeling slightly defeated.

A few minutes of silence later, Felix wanders back from the bathroom, rubbing his hand along your back. “You ready, baby?” He asks, letting out a yawn.

“Absolutely.” You smile. “Thank you girls for coming out tonight. Let's do it again soon!” You smile, but give Yujin a little glare before you slide your fingers in between Felix’s.

“It was really nice to meet you guys. Thanks for a great night.” Felix smiles towards all three of the women. Jisoo and Jennie wave to you both, while Yujin keeps her arms crossed, avoiding eye contact.

“I'd say that went well.” Felix smiles at you, as you both pass the alley on your way home. You don't have the heart to tell him what Yujin said.

“I think so too.”

**

The next morning you woke up to a few missed calls and texts from Yujin. You open one eye trying to focus without closing your eye, until the headline she texted you catches your eye.

“Man Found Dead Outside Local Pub.” You read.

You dial Yujin's number, rubbing the bridge of your nose as you wait for her to answer.

“Did you read the article?” She asks, answering the phone.

“Yeah?” You say. “Who is that?”

“The guy from the bar!” She yells. You crawl out of bed, careful not to wake Felix as you shuffle to the bathroom.

“What guy?” You ask, quietly closing the bathroom door.

“The one that came up to you when you were getting drinks.” She harshly whispers. “He was murdered. Just like June!”

“Okay? So there's a killer out there. Honestly Yujin. I appreciate you looking out for me, but this really is getting tiring. You don't spend time with him like I do. You don't know him.” You sigh.

This shit was giving you a headache.

“I'm just trying to protect you!” She yells.

“Seems like the only person I need protecting from is you. You're trying to ruin what is probably the best relationship that I've ever had. Enough.” You snap, ending the call.

After that day, Yujin had gotten to Jennie and Jisoo, and their once fondness for Felix, turned into hate awfully quickly, and you hated it. You truly did not understand where they were coming from. He didn't hit you, he didn't yell at you and call you names. He treated you like a princess, listened to you, cheered you up, he baked for you. He was everything you ever wanted and more, and there was absolutely no way you were going to let your friends ruin this relationship for you. So you stopped going out with them, you responded to calls and texts but not in the same way you did before. Your responses were dry, responding with the bare minimum answers and you knew they knew that you were disappointed but they were still your friends and you were still going to try to get them to see Felix the way you did.

“I just don't get it.” You whine to Jennie and Jisoo. “You guys loved him when you met him.”

“He was great…he might still be but like… Yujin had some really good points too. It's only been like, what, 5 months of the two of you dating and two people that have come into contact with you have died?” Jennie says.

“It's kinda crazy.” Jisoo adds.

“So is thinking that Felix is the kind of man who goes around murdering people.” You scoff. “That's kind of a stretch, don't you think?”

“Is it?” Jisoo asks.

You let out a long sigh. You were so frustrated with how they were acting but unfortunately you weren't able to control the way other people react.

“Come on.” Jennie smiles. “Yujin is waiting at the bar.” She finishes, pulling your hand. Felix had gone out with some of his friends, which had led you to deciding to go out with yours, but you had a feeling you were going to regret it.

And you did.

“Y/N!” Yujin smiles, standing up to hug you. She was surrounded by four men when the three of you walked into the bar. “I'm so glad you came. I've missed you.”

You smile back at her.

“I missed you too.” You say, wrapping your arms around her, hugging her back.

“Come, sit, meet some people.” She murmurs, pulling you down beside her.

“This is Yunho, San, Hongjoong, and Mingi.” She says, pointing to each handsome man sitting around the table. You give them each a small smile and a wave, feeling uncomfortable, almost like this was set up, for you specifically.

“So, Y/N.” Mingi smiles. “What do you do for work?” He asks.

“I uh, working at an accounting firm.” You respond, taking a sip of your drink. “What about you?”

“How's that? Fun? Boring?” He laughs. “The four of us are in a band.” He smiles, motioning between himself and the other three.

“That's cool.” You respond, trying to catch the attention of Yujin.

“Would you… Maybe wanna get out of here? Go somewhere more private to get to know each other?” Mingi asks. You raise your eyebrow as you stare at him.

“What did Yujin tell you this was?” You ask.

Mingi laughs. “To be honest, she thought we would mesh well. This is like a blind date… Isn't it?”

“I have a boyfriend.” You say, sliding your chair back, standing up and walking towards Yujin who had moved down towards Hongjoong. “Seriously?” You snap, grabbing her arm.

“What?” She asks, trying to play innocent.

“Don't. Don't do that innocent act shit. A blind date, Yujin? Really?” You respond.

She throws her hands up in frustration. “Would you have come if I told you?” She asks.

“Obviously not.” You spit.

“Exactly! There's better out there for you! You just needed to be shown.” She smiles.

“I'm not leaving Felix for Mingi.” You say. “He seems lovely, but I'm happy. Why can't you get that through your head?”

“Because!” She yells. “How can you be in love with a murderer!?”

“I can't. I can't do this with you anymore.” You scoff. “I'm just done.” You finish, walking back to your chair to grab your bag. “I'm sorry Mingi, it was nice to meet you but I have to go.” You smile, grabbing your bag and walking out the door.

Yujin called and texted apologies everyday. For months. And you didn't respond to any of them, you were too mad and frustrated at her to respond calmly.

**

“Another text.” You sigh, looking down at your phone.

“Babe.” Felix pipes up. It had now been 3 months since you had spoken to Yujin. “I think you need to forgive her.” He says.

You look up at him, shocked. “What?”

“It's been months. How many times does she need to apologize for what she's done? She's your best friend.” He says.

“Yeah… but she set me up on a blind date, Felix. How could she think that's okay?” You ask.

“Because she's being protective of you. Like I am. Was I happy about it? Absolutely not. Do I understand where she was coming from? You bet.” He says. “She'll come around.” He smiles.

“What if she doesn't?” You ask.

“Then we'll make her.” He winks.

**

A few days later, you're sitting in Yujins house with her. All the crying, hugging was finally finished.

“Okay.” Yujin, sighs. “I know what your answer is probably going to be. But I'm going to invite you anyway because I love you and I hope you'll come.”

“Okay?” You laugh, raising your eyebrow, curious about what's going to come out of her mouth next.

“I'm having a Halloween party next weekend. Costumes, drinks, games, the works. I really hope you'll think about coming.” She smiles.

“Oh!” You exclaim, laughing. “That sounds fun! Felix loves Halloween and dressing up.” You laugh, pulling out your phone to text him.

Yunjin sits there silently for a second, you can see her face sort of contorting as she thinks about how to put her next sentence as delicately as she can. You already knew what she was going to say. It had been 9 months now, and she still didn't like him or trust him.

“Actually, I just meant I'd like you to come. I'm sorry, but he's not invited.” Yujin whispers, twiddling her thumbs together.

“Yujin. Did we not just have a whole episode of working things out?” You snap.

“Yeah we did and I'm grateful for that because I've missed you. But he's still as fucking weird, intense and controlling as he was that day!” She snaps. “You deserve better! But you keep getting with these fucking losers.”

“Controlling? You've met him like twice, and put in no effort, except to judge him. He's not controlling.” You sigh.

“Then why don't you ever come out anymore? We used to do fun things all the time.” She pouts.

“Because of you! And your lack of consideration for my relationship.” You snap. “If you had a little more respect for me and Felix, then maybe I would.”

“Yeah, sure. It's not him at all.” She scoffs.

“Okay, I'm gonna go. Text me the details for the party. I'll think about it.” You sigh, getting up off the couch and heading for the front door.

You already knew you'd be going to the party. You knew Felix would be joining you, and you were all going to have a great fucking time.

**

The next weekend, you showed up to the Halloween party in a full Harley Quinn costume. You thought you did an amazing job on the costume, and by your friends' reactions, they thought so too.

“I'm so happy you decided to come.” Yujin smiles, pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah.” You laugh. “Me too.”

“So what's the plan?” You ask, grabbing a drink from the fridge.

“It's just gonna be us four for a few hours. We're gonna pregame until the party starts around nine!” She grins.

“That sounds perfect.” You smile, taking a sip of your drink.

“Jisoo!” Yujin calls out, you, Jennie and her gathered around the island in the kitchen, waiting for Jisoo to come downstairs.

“Should I go look for her?” Jennie asks.

Yujin sighs. “Yeah, I guess. She was done like 30 minutes ago, I don't know why she isn't down here already.”

Jennie leaves the kitchen, heading towards the stairs. You and Yujin are chatting about nothing, when you hear the start of a scream before it's cut off. You both look at eachother, walking forward, very slowly, your arms linked together.

“Jennie?” You call out, in a semi whisper. “Are you okay?”

You hear footsteps making their way down the stairs. Jennie rounds the corner, but she's not alone. Someone in a mask stands behind her, a knife placed to her throat.

“Jisoo? Did you completely change your costume?” Yujin laughs. “Scared the shit out of her, I didn't you?” She says to Jennie, who has tears rolling down her cheeks. She's trying to hold in her sobs as the person behind her cocks their head to the side.

Yujin realizes quickly that it's not Jisoo under the mask. “Who are you?” Yujin asks. “What do you want?”

No answer.

You and Yujin stand there, breathing heavily as Jennie mouths pleas to the two of you, begging you to help her.

“Just step away from h…” You begin, stepping forward. The knife is pulled away from her throat, she breathes a sigh of relief, hunching over as she tries to catch her breath. The person grabs onto her hair, yanking her back up before plunging the knife through her back, the tip poking out of her stomach.

“No!” You and Yujin scream in unison, watching your friend have the life taken from her.

She gasps and gargles as the knife is ripped out of her body and shoved in again, and again, and again, until she can no longer stand. The masked person shoves her lifeless body to the floor, blood pouring from her mouth and each wound, the blood pooling around her body on the floor.

Screams erupt from you and Yujin, tears spilling from your eyes. The two of you go through the double doors to the living room, both of you frantically trying to find your cell phones. Jennie's body is dragged into the living room, streaks of blood left on the floor as she's dropped near the two of you.

“Why are you doing this!?” Yujin screams. “Where's Jisoo!?”

The masked person walks towards you two, turning towards the closet in the hall, pointing there.

“No, No…She's dead.” You gasp, crying a little harder.

“What the fuck did we ever do to you!?” Yujin screams. You let go of her hand, walking towards the faceless person. “Y/N!” Yujin screams. “What are you doing!?” She panics.

As you get closer, the person begins to lift the mask, and you're met with the handsome face of your boyfriend.

“Felix?” She gasps. You turn around, looking horrified that it's your boyfriend. She was right.

Of course she was. He walks up behind you, placing the knife against your neck as he places a small kiss on the side of your neck.

“Please don't kill her.” Yujin cries.

“Oh.” You laugh, wiping away your tears. “He's not going to kill me.” You giggle, taking the drenched knife from his hands.

“Hi baby.” Felix whispers in your ear.

“W-what is happening?” Yujin gasps.

“You know, Yujin. I got really tired of you accusing Felix of being a murderer.” You laugh. “Even though you were spot on.”

“She was.” Felix laughs. “You should have been an investigative journalist or a police officer.”

“So he did kill those people! And you knew?” She asks, her face contorted into a disgusted look.

“Yes, and yes.” You laugh. “Your constant nagging was getting really annoying. So when I approached Felix about an idea I had, I knew he would be totally in.”

“You planned this?” She asks. “We're supposed to be best friends!”

“Yeah, supposed to be. But you just couldn't let me be happy! You really have no one else to blame but yourself.” You sigh. “But I also had a condition. Felix had to leave you…” You pause.

“Thank you… thank you… I'm not ready to die.” She sobs.

“Oh, honey, no.” You laugh. “He had to leave you for me.”

“What?” She whispers. You grip the knife in your hand, walking towards hers.

“If you had just left me alone this whole thing could have been avoided.” You sigh, grabbing her shoulder with one hand, forcing the knife into her stomach. She stares at you with wide eyes as you push the knife in a little harder.

“Oh baby.” You laugh. “You were right, this is fucking exhilarating.” You groan. You pull the knife from her stomach, ramming it in again in a new spot as her body begins to collapse.

You pull the knife out, your hand covered in blood as you drop the knife, watching Yujin slowly dying on the floor. She tries to speak but blood pours from her mouth.

“That was so fucking hot.” Felix groans, pulling you towards him. He plants his lips onto yours, thrusting his tongue into your mouth. Your bloody hand moves down to his crotch, feeling his already hard cock, growing even more.

“Fuck me.” You murmur.

Felix guides you to the couch, pushing you down onto the floor, your stomach laying on the couch. He flips up your skirt before quickly unbuttoning his pants, pulling out his cock. Felix rips your tights open in the back, kicking your knees apart to spread yourself more. He spits into his hand, gliding it up your cunt, shoving two fingers inside of you, making you cry out. Felix pumps his fingers a few times before he pulls them out, lubing up his cock with your juices. He quickly and harshly thrusts himself inside of you, grabbing your neck and squeezing. He pulls you up against him, his hot breath hitting your ear as he rams his cock inside of you.

“Did it feel good?” He groans. “Shoving that knife into her?” He gasps as you clench your cunt around him.

“So fucking good.” You cry out, reaching down between your lips to rub your clit.

“You looked so fucking sexy doing it.” Felix grunts, ramming his cock into you.

His hand tightens around your neck, squeezing harder, making you gasp for breath.

“I fucking love you so much.” He groans, fucking you harder. “Cum, baby. Cum.” He grunts. You move your fingers faster on your clit, your orgasm coming quickly.

He releases your throat, making you cough. “Fuck. I… love… you.” You scream, cumming hard onto his cock.

Felix grips your hips, thrusting into you harder and faster, cumming right after you, filling you all the way up.

He pulls out of you, tucking himself away before he helps you up, grabbing the knife from on the floor and bringing it to the kitchen. He slips it inside the backpack he stored in the closet, setting it by the door.

“Get ready to cry, baby.” Felix grins, grabbing his phone. You make your way to Yujin's body, sprawled out on the floor, forcing your tears to come.

“Help! Please help! Our friends were murdered!” Felix cries into the phone. “We're at 44776 Roadway Lane. Hurry!” He cries, hanging up the phone.

“Ready to put on the performance of a lifetime, baby?” He grins.

“With you, I'm ready for anything.” You smile, leaning over Yujin's body, forcing the tears from your eyes to fall as the sirens get louder and closer.

“Police!” They yell from outside the door.

“In here! Please.” You scream. The police rush in, seeing your distraught face hovering over your friend as Felix cries in the corner of the room.

“What happened?” One of the officers asks, pulling you away from the body.

“W-we… were having a Halloween party.” You sob. “The five of us… we were going to drink a little before it started later. Someone broke in… started stabbing them… we hid in the closet until we heard the person leave.” You cry.

“Do you have a description of the person?” The officer asks.

“No. We didn't see the person. The person was wearing a mask. And then we hid.” Felix cries.

“I'm so sorry.” The officer sighs. “Let's get you two checked out.”

Felix stands up, holding his hand out for you. You grab his hand, whimpering into his arm as the officer guides you out of the house. Felix grabs his backpack, and you both walk down the walk away, hand in hand, leaving the crime you committed behind you.

[humanpurposes]

Hysteria

(1950s AU) A housewife reaches breaking point and seeks medical advice at her husband's request // Main Masterlist

Aemond x nameless female character

Warnings: 18+, smut, period typical sexism, dub-con,

Words: 5400

A/n: inspired by this ask on @lightningandfireinmybones 's blog, shout out to @b-vvitched for the prompt, I couldn't stop thinking about it :) Also available to read on AO3.

She reads over the gold painted letters on the door to make sure she has the right room.

Dr A. Targaryen

General Practitioner

She brings her hand up to the door, hesitating for a moment before she softly taps her knuckles against the wood, thrice.

She holds her breath, unsure if a moment passes or a minute.

His voice comes soft and distant from the other side. “Enter.”

The room is simply four white walls, a dark wood desk and cabinets and an examination table with black leather upholstery. The harsh afternoon sun and a slight breeze bleed in from the open windows, floating through thin, white curtains. It’s surprisingly serene but still plain and inoffensive.

Dr Targaryen– Aemond as he insists as he shakes her hand– has harsh blue eyes, the left framed by a long scar slicing down his face, a pointed nose, curved lips, a sharp jaw and pale blond hair, stylishly gelled like some movie star. Something about him is unsettling despite the small smile and the impeccable manners as he offers her a seat in the green leather chair on the other side of his desk.

She contracts her hand slightly once he lets go of her. His grip had been rather firm.

He opens a brown leather notebook and flicks through a clipboard on the desk, frowning and tapping a pen against it as he goes over some paperwork and basic information she had given the nurse, as instructed.

She holds her hands together in her lap and winces at how damp her palms are. She’s sure it’s just the weather, and smooths them over her pale blue, rayon skirt. She checks her nails while she’s at it too. She had painted them red the night before, but they are already starting to chip from where she’d started her day with washing the dishes and doing a deep clean of the kitchen.

“You said your husband recommended you seek medical advice, is that right?” he asks, his head tilted down and his eyes meeting hers, expecting a prompt answer, she realises.

She swallows through the scratchy feeling in her throat, wishing she had accepted the receptionist’s offer of water. “Yes, that’s right.”

His eyes move over the page again and he gives a cryptic “hmm.”

The specifics often change but lately she’s realised that each day of her life feels the same. Wake up before her husband, make his coffee and his breakfast, make sure he wants for nothing and see him off to work. Help the mother-in-law with her shopping and her laundry. Bake a cake for the village fundraiser and drop it off at the the Church. Make polite conversation with the vicar and the other women helping out, compliment their babies, ask about the older children. Try not to cry when she’s bombarded with the dreaded question. “How soon can we expect little ones from you?”

Two weeks ago her husband had come home from work and found her on the sofa, staring into space, too tired to even reach for a book or a magazine. Everything had seemed to be going wrong for her that day, evidenced by the broken washing machine, the broken heel on her shoe, the cuts and blisters on her feet, the shopping left unceremoniously on the kitchen counter. She was absolutely exhausted, but when his dinner wasn't ready and waiting for him, her husband hit the roof.

Something snapped. Before she knew it, she was screaming, eyes hot and streaming with tears as she choked on her own sobs. She had never been so loud in her life. She can hardly even remember what she said.

Her husband’s voice screams inside her head. “Emotional… irrational… hysterical…”

“And you went to the nurse first?” Aemond asks. 

“Yes.”

He looks back at the notes. “What did she tell you?”

She shifts in her chair. It should all be right there in front of him, why does she have to say it?

She takes a deep breath, as subtly as she can. “She suggested it could be a hormonal imbalance, or a symptom of…”

Aemond raises a brow, expectantly.

She feels a warmth rushing to her cheeks “... monthly courses,” she says quietly.

“And have you had issues with those?” he asks.

“They can be irregular.”

He hums again and writes something in his notebook.

She clenches her fist around her skirt and notices the soft ticking of the clock on the wall over the desk. It’s not too obtrusive, and the rhythm gives her something to focus on while neither of them are speaking.

Aemond shifts back in his chair, crossing a leg over the other, absentmindedly pressing the lid of his pen to his lips like he’s trying to solve a crossword in the morning paper. “What exactly was your husband’s main concern?”

There comes a familiar feeling, an emptiness in her chest like her body might concave, and a swelling in her eyes. She bites down on her lip to dispel the urge to cry.

Everyone around her loves to comment on how happy she is, how blessed she is to have such a happy marriage and a loving husband.

“He says I’ve been too emotional.”

“Emotional in what way?”

She tells him about the outburst two weeks ago, expecting him to tut and shake his head and chide her for her behaviour. Instead he watches her and listens.

“He says he doesn’t know what else to do with me. He says he does everything he can to make me happy, but that it’ll never be enough for me,” she says.

“And does he make you happy?” he asks.

Her answer hitches in her throat. The obvious response would be of course. He does what any good husband does, works, brings home a salary, sweet talks her mother and smokes cigars with her father when they visit every other Sunday. 

Happiness seems to be an external factor, something people comment on and praise her. When other people say she is happy she wears it with pride, like a medal or a precious piece of jewellery.

She loves her husband, as well as any self respecting woman does. She reminds herself that’s the whole reason why she’s here.

At her silence Aemond smiles to himself and begins to write. She follows how his fingertips grip the pen and how the tendons in his hands flex.

“Wait!” she says, shuffling forward in her seat.

He pauses and looks at her like he did before, with his chin tilted down.

“No– I meant to say yes. Yes, he makes me happy.”

His eyes move around her face and briefly down, over the pearl charm hanging from her neck, her white blouse and her hands bunched in her blue skirt. She releases them when she realises he’s looking and rests them on the arms of the chair instead.

This feels like a test, one in which every word and gesture will be put to scrutiny, earning either a curious “hmm” or a scratching of the pen against the paper. She wonders which is worse.

“How long have you been married?” he asks.

“A year in July.”

“No children?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

His question leaves a tight feeling in her chest and in her gut. 

Aemond sets the pen down on the desk without making a sound. “Sorry, I know these questions can be obtrusive. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but it would be useful to know what I’m working with.”

That’s an odd way to phrase it, she thinks.

“No it’s alright,” she says, her fingers moving anxiously over each other. “It’s not for lack of trying. We… try a few times a week. Usually on the weekends or when he’s not tired– he’s often tired after work.”

“And how is it?”

“Oh, um–” without thinking her hands move back into her lap and she starts to pick at the red nail polish. “He says there’s something wrong with me.”

Aemond tilts his head. “Wrong with you?”

She squeezes her thighs together at the familiar memory of her husband’s downright painful attempts to make love to her. He practically has to force his way inside of her and she can never stand it for more than a few thrusts before she pushes him off. 

He was understanding for the first few months, but she can tell it’s starting to irritate him now. She doesn’t understand why it doesn’t work, what she could possibly be doing wrong.

“Does he prepare you?” 

She looks up with a knitted brow. “Prepare me?”

He tuts and mutters something that sounds like “poor thing,” before scrawling another quick note. 

Then he stands, rolling up the sleeves of his white coat and the black shirt underneath. “I want to check a few things,” he says, cocking his head towards the examination table on the other side of the room.

She follows dutifully, propping her hands against the leather upholstery and pushing herself up to sit on it. Her black heels don’t reach the floor. She crosses them at the ankle and lets them swing a little. 

Once Aemond has washed his hands he approaches her. He’s tall, she realises as he stands before her. His hips are level with her knees and the edge of the table and while he’s not quite close enough to touch her, her legs twitch at the proximity.

She tries to avert her gaze from the somewhat intense expression in his eyes as he simply looks at her. Her eyes don’t stop moving, looking past his shoulder or down at her sides, but there’s not anything interesting to look at.

She focuses on the steady ticking of the clock, counting ten long seconds before she realises she’s holding her breath.

When she finally releases she finds herself focusing instead on the gentle sounds of Aemond’s breath through his nose, the smell of his hair gel, musky aftershave and the lingering scent of smoke. 

Warm fingertips brush against her jaw as he brings her to look at him. She can feel the slight roughness of the pads of his fingers, but he’s gentle when he touches her, almost cautious. 

He leans in a little closer until he’s touching her knees. She doesn’t let herself react but her heart is drumming furiously, more so when his thumb strokes over her cheek. He moves back and forth, grazing the corner of her mouth, before he swipes it over her lower lip. 

She relaxes her mouth as he presses and tugs on the soft flesh. It’s somehow both terrifying and oddly reassuring.

And then he settles, pressing both of her lips into a slight pout while his fingertips rest against her jaw and the top of her neck.

“Open your mouth for me,” he says.

She stares back at him with wide eyes. Had she heard that correctly?

The corners of his mouth curl politely, waiting for her compliance.

So she does as he asks.

With his fingers holding her chin, Aemond inches his thumb into her mouth, settling on her tongue. His skin tastes clean and faintly medicinal from the amber soap.

“You can close your mouth,” he says.

She keeps her eyes on his as she closes her lips around him, careful not to touch him with her teeth.

He hums again, low and contentedly. “Good girl.”

She shudders at the sudden weightlessness in her belly.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

She gives him a small nod.

"Good," he utters, "just breathe."

She loses count of the seconds on the clock as he simply settles inside of her. She does as he says, breathing deeply through her nose, looking up at him through her eyelashes, trying to read if he's pleased or not.

When he starts to withdraw and she instinctively drags her tongue along his thumb. She looks down at his hand, the imprint of her mauve lipstick on his skin, the glistening digit and the small line of spit that trails from her mouth, which he wipes away with his fingers.

“How did that feel?” he asks.

She thinks for a moment. “Good.”

He glances down and her eyes follow, to the fabric of her skirt. When she stands it falls to her shin, but seated, the hem rides up to just below her knees. He places a wide hand on her left knee, their skin separated only by a thin layer of nylon stockings.

“These outbursts of yours,” he mutters, “are they a regular occurrence?”

“Not really,” she says.

“What do you think caused it?”

She presses her teeth together and looks away from him to think. “Lots of things I suppose. It all piles up.”

“How did it feel, to shout at your husband?”

She huffs a laugh at the instinct that appears in her head, it’s not something she should ever admit, but there’s something about Aemond’s eyes and the feeling of his hands that make her want to tell him the truth,

“I liked it, I was just so…” she shakes her head looking for the right word, but she supposes there’s a simpler explanation. “I was so angry, angrier than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“What were you angry at?” Aemond asks, his thumb starting to stroke against her thigh. 

Would it be too much to list every aspect of her life that irritates her?

She hates a lot of things. She hates tidying the house just for it to get messy again. She hates it when her new shoes dig into her skin and make her bleed. She hates that she seems incapable of interacting with another person without suffering their scrutiny. She hates it when people tell her that her life is perfect.

Everything races around in her head, screaming and shouting at her until the noise becomes silent, just a throbbing pain in her head.

“Just… everything,” she groans, rubbing her fingertips against her temple. “I don’t understand it, everyone says our life together is so perfect, but I don’t feel perfect.”

His hand moves away from her and she looks up at the absence.

Aemond takes a slow breath. “Are you familiar with hysteria?”

Her heart sinks and he seems to see it in her face.

He purses his lips for a moment before he explains, “it’s essentially an excess of ill-managed emotions. It can lead to irrational behaviour and quite severe distress.”

She’s heard of the condition before, sparse stories here and there of men who had no choice but to seek proper treatment for their wives when they are too emotional… irrational… hysterical.

She’s not like those women, surely, and her husband knows that, right?

“Is that what's wrong with me?” she asks.

His mouth quirks. “Quite possibly.”

“But I’ve heard of women with this condition before. I’ve heard what their husbands do to them, I—” she can feel her eyes beginning to well with hot, stinging tears. “That’s not going to happen to me, is it?”

She hangs her head, dread pooling in her belly, until his hands cup the sides of her face. Aemond brings her gaze up into his eyes.

“Don’t send me away,” she whispers, blinking the tears from her eyes so they roll down her cheeks. “Please, there must be something you can do–”

“There there, pet,” he says, tracing his thumbs along her teartracks, “everything is going to be alright, hmm? We can sort you out.”

She nods at his reassurance and the feeling of his hands against her skin. It must be entirely improper to be so close to another man, even more so when she starts to realise just how much she likes it, a sweet sort of unease. Perhaps that’s just his nature, perhaps he’s just good at this part of his job.

For a moment he presses his lips together in a strange way, like he’s holding something back. “There is one treatment I’m keen to suggest,” he says.

“What treatment?” she asks.

He tilts his head slightly. “Hysteria is an instability of emotion. You need a release.”

“Like when I shouted at my husband?”

He smiles at that. “It felt good, didn’t it?”

She nods.

“We can undergo controlled releases,” he says, “you’ll be much happier for it.”

She takes a sharp breath when one of his hands moves down from her cheek to rest casually at her waist.

“I can start the treatment today, if you’d like?”

His face is close to hers now, She feels every flutter of his breath, the heat of his body separated by inches of empty space.

“Yes please,” she says quietly, like she might disturb the peacefulness in the room if she speaks any louder. “If it’s not too much trouble?”

“Don’t worry, pet, we’ve still got plenty of time left,” he says, stepping away. “Take your skirt off, and lie back.”

Suddenly her skin feels tight. “My skirt?”

“If you don’t mind?” he says over his shoulder as he walks towards his desk. “It just makes things a little easier, maybe the blouse too.”

She hops down from the table, heels clicking against the floor.  While Aemond’s pen scratches against paper, she turns her back and starts to pick at the buttons on the top of her blouse. She pulls it over her head and folds it, setting it down on the table, where her head will go. Then she pulls down the zip on her skirt and lets it fall around her. For the slightly mortifying prospect of standing there in her stockings and undergarments, the breeze from the window washes over the bare skin of her arms and torso. It’s quite nice, a welcome relief.

She waits with her heels close together and her hands clasped in front of her. Aemond has his back to her and she watches the way the sunlight catches in the silvery streaks of his hair. He tears a sheet from the pad of prescription papers and leaves it on his desk before he moves to the sink to wash his hands. It’s methodical, like before, well rehearsed and memorised for efficiency. Does he even have to think about what he’s doing, she wonders?

Once his hands are dried he reaches into a drawer under his desk. He keeps his eyes on the small object in his hands as he walks towards her.

She straightens her back and puts her hands on the table behind her, testing her weight so she can shuffle on top of it. 

Aemond looks up and she pauses.

His eyes dart up and down her body. “Shoes and stockings off too.”

Blood rushes to her cheeks but she complies, reaching down to undo the small buckles on each shoe. Once they’re under the table she stands straight and curls her thumbs around her stockings.

She looks up to Aemond. He gives her a small nod.

She starts to pull the thin material down her legs, so thin it should hardly make a difference. She shivers as the breeze meets a new part of her body. She straightens again, dutifully awaiting her next instruction. 

The corners of Aemond’s mouth curl. “Perfect,” he mutters. 

He steps closer to her, until she can make out the object in his hands. It’s a coppery colour, gleaming like metal, and no smaller than a tube of lipstick. He slips it into his coat pocket.

She follows Aemond’s hand as he reaches out and runs a slender finger under the strap of her brassiere. “I think we’ll keep this on,” he says.

She nods, though she doesn’t really know why.

A hum sounds in his throat and his eyes look over her face. “Lie back.”

She does as he says and fiddles with her hands, unsure of where to put them until she decides to keep them by her sides. Anticipation sets her nerves alight. She listens to every breath, each taunting footstep as Aemond comes to stand at the foot of the bed.

He moves slowly so as not to agitate her, but her whole body tenses when his hands clasp around her ankles. It’s obvious he’s trying to be gentle, but even when softly spoken his voice leaves a restless feeling in her gut. “Shh, try to relax, and just let me…” he lifts her legs up along her body until her knees are by her hips. His hands go to her thighs next and she lets out a short whimper of surprise when he pulls her closer to him.

“There we go,” he muses to himself, one hand on her thigh while he gently rests the other on her navel, over the hem of her panties.

Her hands are restless, fists clenching and nails digging into her palms.

Aemond looks down at her with a hint of concern. “You can tell me if you want to stop, at any point.”

“No it’s alright,” she breathes, suppressing the urge to arch her back.

His brows raise as he looks down, grazing his fingertips over her skin. Each movement has her breath hitching or her body squirming, no matter how hard she tries to relax, just as he’d instructed.

He brings both hands to her knees, closing them together before he reaches for her panties and slides them from her legs. She doesn’t see where he drops them. Her hands come into fists again as he gradually spreads her legs. 

She’s not sure what to expect or how this is supposed to help her control her emotions, but she tries to concentrate on staying still, keeping whatever dignity she has left.

“Look at that,” Aemond hums, circling his thumbs against her inner thighs, “you’re already getting wet.”

She can feel it, the warmth pooling between her legs. No one has ever told her it’s bad, but it’s one of those things she wonders if she should be ashamed of. She tries to shift but there’s nowhere for her body to go, nowhere she can hide from him.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters, “it’s not bad, is it?”

Aemond frowns. “You mean you don’t…” he trails off as his face melts into an amused sort of sympathy, like he’s piecing together a puzzle. “Bad news for your husband maybe. It means you’re aroused.”

Aroused. She repeats the word to herself a few times. 

Surely it is a bad thing to find herself in such a state, only she finds herself turning her attention to Aemond. Her gaze trails shamelessly over the veins and tendons of his hands and forearms as he kneads at her thighs, the curve of his upper lip and the tip of his tongue swiping between his teeth. If only she could read his mind, figure out what he’s thinking behind those pretty blue eyes, what hypothesis he’s playing around with inside his head. 

And then he reaches into his pocket. She lifts her head to try and get a better look. The coppery object looks more like an oversized bullet, with a slightly pointed head and a black button at its base. When Aemond presses the button it starts to hum. Even the noise of it sparks a reaction from her. She feels something strange, like a shockwave flashing through her body.

“Relax,” Aemond says, bringing his other hand to her hip. “I don’t want to have to tie you down.”

“No,” she utters, “sorry.” She lets her head fall against the upholstery and stares up at the ceiling, determined not to react.

Until something presses to her centre, humming against her. Pleasure pulses through her, unfamiliar but hot and bright. Her eyes snap shut and her hips try to buck but Aemond’s hand holds her down. 

“How does it feel?” he says.

Her first attempt to speak comes out as a broken whimper. “Good,” she manages, stilling her hips from trying to rock against the bullet. “Fuck…”

Something inside of her feels tight, tensing and tensing until she’s sure she can’t take any more. But he keeps it against her, making small, rhythmic movements through her folds, edging her closer to that rising feeling only to relieve her of it.

Her nails start to drag along the leather, clawing at it for purchase. She tries to stay still, to keep her hips steady but something has to give. She turns her head to the side, whimpering and groaning into her shoulder.

“There you go,” Aemond hums, as he finds a truly torturous pattern, slowly swiping upwards from her entrance to the sweet spot of her pearl, only to start over. 

“Please,” she whimpers as he tears her away from that feeling again. Blissful tears blur her vision and she feels utterly weightless. “I can’t stand it…”

He lingers the bullet just below her pearl. She’s so close to something. She can feel it. 

“Do you want to stop?” Aemond asks.

“No!” she cries.

He starts to move in small circles now and her body feels like it’s burning. “Just take it,” he says, “you can take it, just be a good girl for me, hmm?”

“Yes… yes…” she utters like a dreamy chant. 

The button clicks and the vibrations increase. She hardly registers the wanton noises she makes, but she’s all too aware of wet sounds of her arousal and Aemond’s short hums when her hips start to buck again.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” Aemond says. “Come on, pet, you can do it, you’re almost there…”

She feels the hum of her throat as she groans his name and suddenly the tight feeling snaps. Her whole body releases, just as Aemond promised, and she feels herself come undone. He guides her through it, the bullet whirring against her and his hand steady on her hip.

When he finally withdraws, her limbs don’t feel like her own. She listens to her own breath and feels the rise and fall of her chest as she wills herself into a state of awareness. She props herself onto her elbows and her eyes meet Aemond’s.

He smirks, and looks down again, gently drawing a thumb through her folds. 

Her back arches and her breath hitches, though not as intensely as before. She can feel how slick she is now, how easily he moves against her. She eases under his touch and just lets it feel good.

“You did so well,” he says, “fuck, the way your cunt twitches when you come…”

She gazes at him with a bewildered kind of awe, at his parted lips, the golden glow of sunlight trailing down his jaw and his neck, and now the dark, almost hungry look in his eyes. She can already feel the desire rising again, the wanting for more.

“There’s something else I want to try,” he says. His thumb slips further down, teasing her entrance. “If you’ll let me?”

She holds her bottom lip between her teeth and nods.

“Good girl,” he hums.

That alone has her trying to roll her hips against him, but then he’s gone. She wants to groan in protest but keeps her mouth shut as she watches him remove his white coat and black shirt, both of which he drapes over his chair. For his seemingly slender frame, he’s surprisingly muscular. 

With his back still turned to her she watches his hands move to his trousers. She hears the clinking of his belt buckle and the sound of his fly coming undone. He reaches back into the same drawer, tears something between his teeth and discards a small, white packet on the desk. 

As he comes to stand before her once more she can’t help the small smile that graces her lips, unashamedly appreciating the muscles of his torso, his pectorals and the lines of his abdominals, and his now freed cock, already hard, and certainly larger than her husband’s.

He stands before her once again, bringing her knees down so he can slot himself between her legs.

She can already feel herself twitching and her heart racing. 

He doesn’t waste much time on preamble. “You’re fucking soaked,” he mutters, lining the his cock to her entrance and taking a hold of her thigh, “be a shame to waste it.”

She expects it to hurt when he pushes inside of her, and for a moment it does. She feels the way he stretches her out with just the tip. He moves slowly, dragging in and out of her, each time pushing in a little more. She can take the pain, at least until it starts to melt away. After a few strokes it feels effortless.

Aemond lets out a sharp grunt as he comes close to bottoming out. “How does it feel?” he asks with a small amount of strain.

It’s a different kind of pleasure, it’s duller and deeper, less frantic but it still burns in the best way.

“Good,” she breathes.

Aemond’s hands take hold of her waist as he increases his pace, dragging her into him to match his thrusts.

The air feels hot and thick now, the ticking of the clock drowned out by laboured panting, breathless moans and the soft sounds of skin meeting skin.

“Fuck you’re tight,” he hisses, sinking his fingertips deeper into her flesh.

“I don’t suppose that’s a medical term?” she says with a dazed grin.

Aemond huffs a laugh but it seems to spur him on, his jaw slack and his brow furrowed in determination. 

She wraps her legs around his hips and reaches up for him, but all she manages is to graze her fingertips over his torso. He snatches her wrists, leaning over to pin them on either side of her head as he brutally starts to snap her hips into hers. Like this he fucks her deeper and harder against the leather.

She feels her release building slowly, his cock brushing against a spot that has her eyes watering again.

“Going to come for me?” Aemond grits out, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“I want to,” she whimpers, arching her back to get closer to him, “fuck–”

He releases one of her wrists and slips his hand between them, circling her pearl with the pads of his fingers. 

He brings his lips to the shell of her ear. “You’re squeezing me so good,” he whispers harshly, “nearly there, nearly there sweetheart…”

Her legs start to shake as her pleasure peaks and her climax washes over her. Every part of her body tenses and moulds itself into him. Aemond doesn’t relent, he keeps fucking her until she’s whining and squirming, until finally he lets out a guttural groan into her neck. His hips still and she feels him throbbing inside of her, spilling himself into the condom.

For a moment she’s content to lie there, no matter how uncomfortable the surface of the bed is. She likes Aemond’s weight on top of her, his breath on her neck, the scent of him, the sweat from his brow against her skin. But they don’t stay like that for long. He pulls away from her and makes quick work of disposing of the condom and tucking himself back into his trousers.

“Nothing wrong in that regard,” he says, reaching for her hand to help her sit up. “If you’re having trouble it’s the fault of your husband. He needs to prepare you before he tries to fuck you.”

She flicks her hair from her neck to relieve some of the heat. “Oh, right.” She can feel herself trembling, but she feels light, like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. 

“How are you feeling now?” he asks, placing a reassuring hold to her arm.

“Good,” she says.

Aemond carefully helps her back into her panties, stockings, shoes, blouse and skirt. He rights her necklace, wipes the dried tears from her cheeks, drags his thumb around her mouth where her lipstick has smudged and helps her down from the bed, keeping a firm hand on her until she nods to let him know she’s alright. 

He tears off a prescription paper and hands it to her. She quickly skims over it. He’s not prescribed any medication or recommended a lobotomy, thank God. 

“Contraction therapy?” she reads, looking up at him with a raised brow.

“I want to see you twice weekly,” he says, buttoning up his shirt. “Maybe we can go for three times a week, if you feel it would be beneficial.”

She tries her best to hide her smile. “Well I’m sure you know best, doctor.”

General Taglist (comment if you wanna be added): @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy

[hottpinkpenguin]

Easy Company HC's: Letters Home

A/n: I'm really rolling with these BofB headcanons! hope you enjoy :)

Characters included: Dick Winters, Lewis Nixon, Ronald Speirs, Carwood Lipton, Buck Compton, David Webster, Joe Liebgott

Dick Winters

Writes frequent, short letters

Meticulously dates his letters and includes a blurb about the weather. January 12th, 1945. It’s snowing outside, dark and cold. 

Starts each letter with My dear y/n 

Always asks how you are, even though he’s the one fighting a damn war

Follows up on every little question or story you include in your letters. How was the bake sale? Did you ever hear how Louise Graham’s brother is doing after taking that shrapnel to the shoulder? Hope you were able to get someone out to look at the washing machine.

Ends his letters with classic but sentimental sign-offs, like Affectionately yours and All my love

Makes sure not to include anything in his letters that would worry you. Doesn’t necessarily lie or fake being happy, but just gently side steps that. 

Although every once in a while you get a longer letter where Dick’s handwriting is a little messier. You know it’s from writing fast, you can almost feel the pressure behind the penmarks. He opens up more in those letters, talks about losing too many good men and sometimes will say things that just absolutely break your heart, like sometimes I wonder how all of this is really going to end for the men who are over here fighting. 

Even in these letters, Dick never says “I” or “Me”, always writes about the men and the boys. You know - and so does he - that he’s including himself in those boys.

His next letter he always makes sure to reassure you. And it’s genuine, you can tell. He’ll say something like I have to put some of these heavier thoughts somewhere, and there’s nowhere I trust more than with you. 

When he comes home, you find a stack of letters you wrote to him tied up in a neat bundle and stashed in an inside pocket of his Ike jacket that he sewed in especially for that purpose. You could tell by the flimsy, near-ripped creases and dirty paper that he’d read each one about a hundred times over. Buried in the middle of the stack was the picture you’d given him before he’d left for training. On the back, he’d written simply your name, the date the photo was taken, and a short instruction: in event of my death, please send all personal effects to with your home address. It made you sob but you never told him you found it.

GIF by mads-weasley

Lewis Nixon

Rarely writes. Actually drives you crazy with worry most of the time.

When he finally does, you can tell that he’s initially annoyed at having to put his thoughts down on paper. Letters start off with short, sarcastic sentences like nothing new here. Still fighting the war, in case you hadn’t heard. Enjoying German hospitality. 

But as the letters go on he relaxes into it and stops being so grouchy. 

Because he’s always grumpy at having to write (you should probably thank Dick for cajoling Lew into actually sitting down to write to you), he usually doesn’t write any sort of introduction or sweet address, just dives right into it.

His letters usually don’t say much, he just kind of rambles about how much he hates being away from you and how he can’t wait for the whole damn thing to be over. 

Sometimes he’ll write something so incredibly romantic it takes your breath away, like I’d fight a whole division of Panzers myself if I could just get one more sniff of your perfume. 

Those are the letters you save and reread to yourself over and over again when you’re waiting weeks for the next one.

Always signs off with something kind of sassy but also sweet?, like You know I love you or Keep our bed warm for me. 

Sometimes you feel like you can smell whiskey on the paper, which both worries you but also reminds you of Lew

When he finally gets home and you ask him about what he did with your letters, he kind of looks at you like you’ve gone crazy and says I read them of course, what else was I supposed to do with them? 

This hurts your feelings at first which of course he doesn’t understand, but after a few weeks you start to realize that he actually did read them and not only that he memorized their contents. Like he refers to your mother as “the Wicked Witch of Wichita” (something you called here after you wrote him a long rambling letter about how angry she made you at your sister’s bridal shower) and buys you a bouquet of daffodils because you wrote him a letter with a daffodil doodle in the margins of the page talking about the spring gardens. 

You realize that Lew shows his love in the little details, and it makes you appreciate him all the more.

GIF by beautifulguycollector

Ronald Speirs

Ron’s letters read like military bulletins. 

Doing well despite the cold. 1st sgt sick with pneumonia. Think of you often.

Writes predictably once per week. Never misses a letter. Ever. 

You always write him long, lengthy, romantic letters. Sometimes even a little raunchy, if you’ve had some wine. After one particularly *ahem* suggestive letter, you feel ridiculous and say so the next time you write.

In typical Ron fashion, you get a short, to-the-point reply, but it still puts a smile on your face and a blush on your cheeks: Loved your letter. Keep writing. 

Towards the end of the war, Ron starts a countdown to when he expects to be coming home. Two months now, maybe less. Home for the Fourth of July. 

Also signs off with R.S. Which makes you laugh, as if you could forget who was writing to you.

Whenever your girlfriends find a letter from Ron (you keep them all in a shoebox in your closet), they tease you and ask how you can possibly be in love with someone so stiff and formal. To which you can only chuckle to yourself, because you know it’s just that they don’t understand that Ron doesn’t tell you he loves you, he shows you. Writing a letter every single week. Updating you on everything going on, even short updates, because he wants you to know how he’s doing. That’s Ronald Speirs’ love language.

Maybe three weeks before Ron comes home, you start getting boxes of (stolen?) German silver at your door. At first it freaks you out and makes you feel slimy for having lavish riches from an enemy country, so you don’t unpack the boxes and you just stack them up in the back bedroom. When Ron gets home and sees the boxes unopened and shut away, he immediately asks you what’s wrong. You stammer out an explanation and without blinking an eye, Ron loads them into his truck and takes them to the dump. 

(Later you convince him that a better use of those would be to donate them to the local orphanage, so off he goes in his truck to get the boxes back out of the dump and bring them to shelter.)

One night when you’re lying awake, head on Ron’s chest, talking idly about things that don’t matter, he interrupts you to ask Can you guess which letter I kept? 

You instantly blush, thinking of that risque letter you wrote him when you were halfway through your second bottle of white wine. He shakes his head and pulls a letter out of his nightstand and hands it to you. You don’t recognize it immediately, although you do see that it’s too short to be one of the naughtier correspondences. 

It’s too dark to read, so you ask him which letter. He says it’s the one you wrote to me for my birthday. 

You don’t remember that one and you tell him as much, so you ask him why he kept that one instead of some of the others. He looks down at you with a serious look in his eyes, a little surprised that you can’t figure it out. Then he tells you: it’s the first time you wrote that you loved me. 

The next day, you sneak a peek at the letter and realize he’s right. You signed it, I love you Ron. 

From then on, you make sure to tell him that every night before he falls asleep.

Carwood Lipton

Formal, sweet letters. This man is a king of romancing by words.

Writes as often as he can, but you know that Lip needs peace and quiet for an entire evening to get one of those letters done (he probably definitely writes a draft or two before he gets it right). And let’s face it, Easy Company doesn’t have the luxury of many quiet evenings. 

Always, always, always starts his letters off with Dear (future) Mrs. Lipton, which you honestly think is hopelessly corny but it’s way too adorable to tell him so. And besides, you secretly love it.

He always reminisces about home in his letters. Tells you how much he misses the smell of your baking, the squeak of the front porch swing that you two would sit on and watch the sunset. 

He worries a lot about you and his family. He always asks you to look in on his mother if it’s not too much trouble. 

Lip doesn’t talk much about the war, in fact he hardly acknowledges it at all. And he never uses the term ‘war’ or ‘battle’. Instead, he says things like The boys over here are still committed to doing the job or Easy presses on.  

Lip’s letters get a little shorter and less soft after Bastogne. He starts including the names of the casualties in his company in the P.S. Even though you don’t know these men except by name - and some of them, not even that - you feel honored that he trusts you with their memories. 

Lip has saved your letters and all the pictures you sent to him - he loves pictures, and asks for an updated one of you almost every month - tucked in his foot locker and safely between the pages of his Bible so they don’t get creased or dirty. 

You also find that he’s kept stacks of letters from some of his men that died in the field. When you ask him what he plans to do with the letters, he gets a heartbreaking, far-off look in his eyes and says I reckon I’ll try to get them back to their families. 

You take on the burden of doing that, and you write to some of the families introducing yourself and introducing Lip and offering to forward them the letters.

All the replies you get back mention that their soldier talked about how good a leader and friend Lip was. Their replies bring tears to your eyes. For some reason, you don’t show the letters to Lip, although you do tell him about them. He never asks to read the letters, he just kisses you on your forehead and tells you that he’s never loved you more. 

Even after he’s home, he’ll still write you a letter from time to time, usually at Christmastime or for your birthday in the summer. His letters are always talking about his favorite memories with you, and there’s always a paragraph at the end where he talks about how in love with you he is. It’s borderline poetry and it makes you cry every single time.

GIF by balladofthe101st

Buck Compton

Basically just writes a list of questions for you to answer in every letter.

Wants to know everything about what’s going on at home. Especially sports teams.

Doesn’t write frequently, so sometimes it’s hard to feel like there’s a conversation happening. 

But he always includes sweet little notes about how much he’s thinking of you and how he’s counting down the days until he can hold you again, so you’re not complaining. 

Not the most poetic writer. Always says what he thinks and feels though. Completely honest and open. 

Does not tell you anything about the war. Basically ignores the entire thing. 

Sometimes you think about asking him about that, but you figure that he’s not talking about it for a reason, so you follow suit.

Calls you baby in his letters. 

Doesn’t actually say ‘I love you’ in his letters, although says everything else. Miss you baby. Dream about you all the time. When I get home, I’m putting a ring on your finger. 

One time he writes that he woke up last night out of a dream and swore I could taste you and it makes your toes curl.

You save that letter, tuck it in your underwear drawer. 

Signs his letters very simply: Buck. Sometimes he’ll put something in like until next time or I’ll write soon. But usually nothing super romantic or sentimental.

Doesn’t save your letters, but that really doesn’t bother you too much because all you wrote in them was basically just rambling details that Buck requested about your boring day-to-day. 

Buck’s always better in person than in writing - he’s a quality time and physical touch kind of guy - but you know that your letters were his only lifeline to normal during the war, and you’re just happy to have him back at all. 

He does surprise you one night when it’s really quiet in the house and you’re sitting on the couch together, each reading a book. He suddenly turns to you and says You know baby girl, your letters saved my sanity over there. It’s the most he’s really ever said about the war, but it’s enough, and you kiss him so he knows that you get it.  

GIF by balladofthe101st

David Webster

Unsurprisingly, Web is probably the best letter writer in all of Easy Company. 

He helps a lot of the other guys write letters home, especially if they’re trying to say something important. Web just has a knack for words unlike any other. 

He writes a lot of letters home, not just to you, but to the rest of his family, his siblings, some of his friends, and definitely his professors. 

So because you’re close with Web’s family, you do get to read a lot of his writing. 

His letters to you are different though. They’re darker and a little less polished. Sometimes, they frighten you a little bit. Web talks about things you’re not you really understand - like how pointless death is, how empty it makes him feel to see his friends get KIA, how he carries around guilt about surviving this long like an anchor. 

Refers to you exclusively in his letters by your first name, his writing is always serious and somber and drenched with heavy emotions, so pet names just really don’t fit the vibe.

He quotes poetry and literature quite a bit when he writes. It all feels a bit Gothic, but you’ve always known that Web has found clarity in the world through books, so you don’t begrudge him a little poetic license.

Signs his letters Yours in perpetuity, David K. Webster. 

Asks you to send books. Sometimes he asks for something specific, but other times he’s happy to get whatever you pick out for him. Your tastes are different from his; you prefer to choose shorter, gentle pieces about life in the British countryside or Western adventure novels. Web would prefer Wadsworth or Hemingway, but he figures it’s probably in his best interests to read things that don’t tackle dark themes. You always tuck a letter for him into the first few pages. 

He doesn’t save your letters, per se, although he does save every single book you send to him. When he gets home, he puts them all up on the bookshelf in his office. Even though they’re beat up and stained and not at all fitting with the rest of his collection, they’re front and center. 

Sometimes he takes a stab at sketching in his letters. He’s not bad, either. You try to encourage him to take lessons when he gets home, which he never does. He secretly loves how much you love his drawings though.

GIF by yourspeirs

Joe Liebgott

KING OF DIRTY LETTERS

You definitely like to re-read his letters… again and again…

Not every letter is a dirty one. But most are. Or at least have a dirty section in them. 

You don’t know how this man makes you feel wanted from halfway around the world, but somehow he does. Lord knows you love a lot about your Joey, but you didn’t realize how good he was with words until you found yourself practically stalking the mailman, hoping for another delivery from Joe.

Uses a lot of pet names in his letters. Baby girl, Doll, Princess are some of his favorites. Literally never calls you by your name.

Always signs off with Your Joey. 

Even when Joe is clearly in a dark place, his letters are saturated with how much he needs you and how he can’t stop thinking about all the ways he’s going to have you when he gets home. 

When your mother finds one of Joey’s letters to you, she throws an absolute shit fit and freaks out that you’re sleeping with someone before you’re married. It takes a long time for you to convince her that you haven’t slept with Joey yet, you’re just… really into dirty talking.

She kinda chills after that but still looks at you suspiciously every time you get a letter from him.

She never tells your dad though, which makes you think maybe she’s more supportive of your relationship with him than you realized.

After working up the courage, you write Joe a letter that is so sinful you actually doubt whether you should send it in the mail, it just feels so wrong.

When I say this man goes crazy for that letter, it is an understatement. He is out of his mind and immediately writes you a reply telling you so. Basically begs you for more.

Even though your letters back and forth with Joe are pretty raunchy, there’s also a sweetness to them. He’s always sure to mention that This ain’t just all talk, Doll. When you’re Mrs. Liebgott, you’re gonna see exactly what I’ve been writing about. Which you know is still pretty dirty, but hey, he’s basically proposing to you, right?

You are not the least bit surprised to know that he kept your naughtiest letters when he finally gets home.

But, Joseph Liebgott is a man of his word, and even though he is clearly dying to and you’re practically begging him to, he doesn’t make good on all those dirty promises until after you’re wearing his ring.

Much to your delight, you find that he is just as good with actions as he is with words.

[invertedspearofseveneleven]

Bedrest (boyfriend!Nanami Kento x fem! reader)

Summary: your boyfriend Nanami takes care of you while you're sick and on your period

CONTENT WARNING: Illness, period pains (reader) fluff, love even, Nanami loves you so very much it is almost sickening, short self-hate moment but nothing insane I promise

Author's note - I too am cramping so bad I'm awake at night, so I wrote this while delirious and missing a certain college friend (situationship across the fucking US? fuck) Needed Nanami to take care of my sorry ass

This is also my first JJK work, so pleasepleasepleaseplease give me your thoughts!

READ THIS ON AO3!! -

Thank you! Love you!

Sick. The sickest you’ve ever been on your period. Sure, you’d be stuffy or have a runny nose when your time of the month rolled around, but this was diabolical. Your head throbbed with a headache that no amount of water seemed to slow. Finally, you canceled your noon meeting and went home. NEVER before had cramps or illness made you leave your place of work. On the way to your car, you bumped into a familiar white-haired sorcerer.

“Y/N!” he shouted across the parking lot. “Skipping out?” You wince at his loud voice, but nod, sunglasses on to block out all unnecessary light from your pupils.

“Yeah, not feeling well.” your answer is short, not curt, but aiming for a sense of urgency. Your headache is fast changing to a migraine, and spots of blue light dot the side of your vision. Gojo doesn’t seem to notice. “I’ll call the funeral home, you’re obviously near death if you’re leaving this early.” he rasps out a laugh. Any other time, you would have laughed along, but right now, your focus is on getting home. As fate would have it, Gojo’s phone rings and he says goodbye before answering it. You smile and nod, moving quickly to your car and speeding out of the lot. 

Home isn’t far away, and out of habit, you drive without much thought. A good thing too, otherwise the mental strength to sit up, focus on directions, and not crash would have been too much. It would have been easier to sleep at your desk. 

The house is calm when you enter, and you hear Mino, your Ragdoll, meowing softly to you when the door shuts. You drop your keys, purse, and briefcase unceremoniously onto the table. Holding the edge of the counter, you move gently across the room, eyes on the couch. When you reach it, you flop down and pull blankets around you. Suddenly you’re freezing. Is there a window open? The blankets feel heavy and soft, but there’s no warmth to be found. Taking a deep breath, you get up off the couch, looking at the room. You move dishes to the sink, thinking that you’ll wash them. You remember the pile of dirty laundry in the bedroom, and get to it, only to drag what you can to the washing machine. There’s clothes inside, you flip them to the dryer, and pull the dry clothes into the laundry basket. When you start the machines and get up off the floor, you notice dirt and grit on your hands. The floor needs to be swept. Why is the house such a wreck? The thought of cleaning is stomach turning right now, and you feel tears push at your eyes.

Useless. Useless. That’s all you can  think of yourself. You can’t finish a workday, can’t imagine folding the warm laundry, hate the image of dishes in the sink, and your stomach is cramping so badly you can’t breathe. Dusting off your hands on your pants, you lurch, that’s the only word for the movement, holding the walls of the hallway, and lean into your bedroom.

You can smell his cologne still. You always leave before he does, so he gets ready long after you’re gone. He comes home later, and you would give anything to smell his warm skin, not just the memory of who’s hand sprayed the scent in the air. You crawl into his side of the bed, burying yourself under the heavy comforters and soft bedspreads. His smell wraps around you and lulls you to sleep.

You wake up to the door closing again. Mino had sat with you on the couch for a little, but when you fell asleep, she must have left for a different part of the apartment. You hear a soft thump when Mino jumps to the floor from what you assume to be her usual perch, a seat on the barstools by the counter. There's a jingling of keys, soft murmuring, and a crinkling noise. 

Bags? I just went to the store… 

You consider other possibilities, but none match up the way you need them to, and your head hurts like mad. You squeeze your eyes shut and push at your temples. You hear the door open, and Nanami joins you in the room, his presence so comforting, you don’t even have to look to know it’s him. “Go to mama.” His soft voice coos, and a weight joins you, padding near. Mino prods at your exposed ear with a cool nose. A curtain rod clinks and the familiar squeeeak of the unoiled window sounds. 

“Just some air. It’s a little stuffy in here, love.”

“Hi, Kento.” your voice sounds foreign, even to you. How long has it been since you spoke aloud? You try to clear your throat, but only succeed in coughing. You hear Nanami move to your side, joining Mino.

“Gosh, y/n…” He moves your hands to the side and feels your forehead. You can almost see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but it isn’t hard to read his emotions, he’s obviously very concerned. “You’re really warm.” He moves his large cool hand from your forehead to your cheek, and you can’t help but lean into it, chasing the cool it offers. Any other time, you’d make a goofy face and act entirely relieved, but now, the movement is genuine. 

Nanami shakes his head. He rises, moving out of the room. You watch him go, and pet Mino absentmindedly. In the next room, a bustling rises, ebbs, and ceases. The dishwasher can be heard opening. The sink turns on. A broom moves quickly. In five minutes, Nanami is back. His blue shirt sleeves are rolled to the elbow, and he has a small dishcloth over his shoulder.

"Did you get home and try to clean? My dear, what would the world do without you? Sicker than I've ever seen you, and still, you work. Well, now it's my turn." His light eyes shine at you, he must have taken off his glasses. He has such lovely eyes, you find yourself musing. 

“Thank you, love.”

Did I say that out loud?

You must have, but that’s besides the point. Still wrapped in soft blankets, Nanami picks you up gingerly, holding you against him and moving from the bedroom. The small sitting room area is clean as anything, how long had he been working? Maybe you had fallen asleep. 

Nanami places you gently on the couch, pulling the cloth from his shoulder. You notice it leaving a mark on the fabric, and when he applies it to your forehead, it's pleasantly cool from being soaked in sink water. The rush of cool on your feverish skin makes you pull the blanket you’re cocooned in closer around you, but deep down, you know that you need to cool off before you overheat. Nanami has disappeared into the bedroom again, and you close your eyes, hoping to fall asleep again. 

You wake up again in Nanami’s strong arms. He crosses back into the bedroom, taking care not to let you bump a wall or a doorframe. The windows are wide open, the fan is on, and the bed has been stripped and remade. 

“Let’s get you into something more comfortable.” He whispers, placing you in a seated position at the end of the bed. Checking to see you’re stable, he turns to the closet and dresser. Looking down, you realize you’re still in your button down and dress pants. Lord, you must really be sick.

“I- can’t, can’t miss work…” you trail off as Nanami turns to you with a gentle look that seems to say really? 

“That’s all you can think of right now? My love...” He pulls open a drawer and looks through it, his back to you. “Let’s get you changed, and if you feel better in the morning, I promise we’ll discuss you returning to work.” He turns back, a large, soft looking t shirt in hand. It’s yellow, your favorite color.

He looks at you, then your hands, with an oddly furrowed brow. Leaving the room, he spots what he was searching for, the discarded towel, on the floor next to the couch. You hear him rewet it at the sink, before coming back and picking up where he left off. Pressing a slow kiss to your head, he kneels by the bed, taking your hands in his.

The large, cool, square palms feel incredible against your arms, and you’re tempted to sit like that for hours, soaking in the cool of his skin while you shiver for your blanket. Slowly, Nanami moves your hands to the collar of your shirt. “Unbutton that for me.” The command is simple, and you realize that, in any other situation, it would have been EXTREMELY hot. For the time being, you decide to tuck that thought away to bring up later. The shirt is wrapped around you strangely, probably from the crash you had when you got home. When it’s loose enough, you pull it up over your head. Nanami is ready, taking it from you and sliding the t-shirt over you. He deftly flips the dress shirt into the laundry basket, and moves a hand behind you, unclipping your bra through your shirt. The movement is so natural you find yourself shocked by its simplicity, and laugh, a short bark followed by a cough. You take a breath, a freer one, and move the undergarment off gently, under the shirt.

But your laugh is enough for Nanami, who sees his lover through the veil of illness. He smiles at you, and leans forward to kiss you. Your hands fly up on their own, and you chastise him between giggles and short coughs.

“No WAY I’m getting you sick, mister.” “No better way I can think to spend a weekend with you.” His soft eyes are aimed right at your lips, even though his words are  sent right to you. 

“So, sick and achy? I simply can’t allow this.”

“I’m risking it.” He leans forward and kisses you slowly. You laugh around the kiss, moving your head away and blushing as he sprinkles kisses all across the bridge of your nose. He’s smiling too, you can feel it. In a practiced move, though handled now with care, he hooks his hands into the sides of your pants, refusing to break the kiss. The waistband slips down, revealing your legs and making goosebumps prick on your skin. 

Once your pants are completely off, leaving you in your black, everyday underwear, Nanami moves to stand above you, scooping you up again. You wrap your arms around his neck, cradling his face in your hand. The lines of his cheekbones and jaw are etched into your memory, a mix of angles and shapes that is so strange to consider being comforting, and yet… 

Sitting you down onto the cool, light blanket, Nanami takes the re-wet washcloth to your flushed skin. He trails it across your decolletage, down your neck, along your arms and legs, and over your face as well. The trace coldness on your skin that it leaves in its wake is exactly what you need, and you sink a little lower onto the bed. Nanami smiles softly, happy to see you get a bit of relief. He tucks you in, under only one blanket instead of the pile he found you under.

“I know it may be uncomfortable, but trust me, it will help the fever break. The kettle just boiled, and I’ll make you some tea, so sit tight.”

The command is again, said with loving intent, and makes your heart float a little. He slips from the room, and you hear a beep and the sound of water pouring. Leaning back, you relish the feeling of cool, while missing some warmth. Nanami is back quickly, carrying some medication from the drugstore and a mug of sleepytime. 

“When did you-”

“Gojo gave me a call about your rather hurried exit today.” He answers, a hint of a laugh in his voice. He places everything on the bedside table before moving out of sight behind the door frame, and you hear his voice fade slightly before returning. 

“I- well, this is actually a little embarrassing. I’ve been tracking your cycle for a while now, and I noticed that your immune system tends to take a hit right at the start of your period. And, um, with cold season hitting its peak, I had an idea of some things you might need.” He’s been looking at the ground, and you can see that he’s half proud and half… something else. Ashamed? “I swear I didn’t think it was going to be this bad, I just wanted to come by with everything you’d need. Or, well, want.” from behind his back, Nanami pulls out a plush cat, similar to Mino in every way but two. One, it’s grey, not white. And two, it’s, um, portly. It looks like it weighs more than you’d expect. Nanami scoots next to you and places it on your stomach, eliciting a soft gasp of surprise from you. It’s weighted, for sure, but it's warm too. “You put it in the microwave. The saleswoman said it was full of rice and lavender, and since you like lavender I thou-” You cut him off, moving as quickly as you can over to him and pulling him down to you. He laughs at the sudden fall, but then gasps, rolling off of you. “Hey! You’re in a lot of pain, I’m not crushing you, too. Are-” He cuts himself off now, looking at the figure holding him and, shaking? 

“Y/n, darling, are you crying?”

You are, the tears pushing hot trails down your face. Your breath is shaky, and there’s something about this whole situation that makes you laugh.

“You’re so, sniff, you’re so wonderful.”

Nanami’s eyebrows knit together, and he smiles, pulling you closer to stroke your hair softly. His other hand lays flush against your back, and he begins gently running his kept nails against it, massaging your tired muscles. “Only for my girl.” He kisses your forehead and rests his cheek against the warm skin. “You work too hard not to be taken care of AT LEAST once a month.” He gives you a squeeze before leaning to the table and picking up the mug of tea with the tiny cup of cough syrup. 

“Now take a sip for me, and shoot this back, you’ll feel better.”

[cokou]

𝙿𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚗 × 𝙵! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

sum. Assigned with laundry duty with penguin, maybe things got out of hand. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tw. Panty stealing. Getting caught. Fucking on the floor. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n. I SWEARRER PENGUIN IS SO HOT. Pls no transfer and translate to any other media, this is my only account!😿😿 I LOVE YOU GUYS // Masterlist 💗

You head towards the laundry room, carrying a basket full of already worn clothes. As you enter the room, you were met with Penguin looking at the dryer with the most confused expression you've ever seen. It seemed like he was skeptical and the look of 'im fucked' on his face.

"What's wrong?" Placing the basket into one corner, you approach him ready to help on whatever he had caused once again.

"Uhm, maybe I twisted it wrong?" He looked at you, his arms crossed and tapping his feet into the floor.

"Twisted it wrong? Context please?" Now even more confused, you take a look at the dryer, the buttons twisted, yet not working. The machine lets out loud noises of brr's and it smelled like smoke inside the room.

"(Name), I think I broke the dryer! Captain is totally gonna make me pay for it!" Penguin's voice was mixed between a nervous and a panic soring through him. Part of him was already prepared to do all punishments that the captain would set up for him.

"Calm down! Uh— Maybe you just twisted it wrong!" You tried retwisting the timer control towards the right, nothing happened. You retwisted it towards the left, and suddenly it jolted open, spinning fastly, the sound of revving filling the room and the machine reeked of the smell of smoke even more.

"Well look at that! I'm such an engineer when it comes to this." You proudly put your hands on your waist as Penguin looked even more concerned as the machine revved like crazy and spurting out smoke.

"(Name)! It's spurting out smoke! Turn it off, turn it off!!" As you hurriedly turned the machine off, it wouldn't turn off. Luckily Penguin had removed the sockets quickly.

"This machine's such a bummer... I'm ready to do 3 months worth of duties for the next few days of my life." Penguin sighed as he looked at you frowning, making you feel guilty.

"Well Peng, you could use another machine in a while."

"You're right, well atleast you'll help me out here, so it's less of a bummer."

Penguin knew it himself that whenever Law partners you two up for duties, he's always the one to enjoy it the most, not even complaining. Maybe his crush on you has been going on ever since you stepped into the submarine itself.

You smiled at him and reminded that you two have to be done before midnight or everyone would freak out of nothing to wear. Both of you returned to work—, however at the worst timing ever, Penguin had an idea of taking care of your clothes first. Rummaging through the baskets to find your laundry basket.

He picks it up swiftly, ready to toss them into the machine. Opening it up, his eyes widened at the sudden cloth that met his eyesight.

"(Name)'s panties.." mumbling to himself after the discovery, he held it and inspected it. A wet patch displayed on it, he felt himself get tighter at the groin as he looked over to your direction. Everything in him is telling that this was wrong, and that maybe he should just pick another basket until you pick yours up, right?

"Hey Peng? Are you okay? You've been—" drifting your eyes to his hand, you noticed a familiar pattern of cloth on his hand. "...Drop that!"

"Im sorry! I didn't even—" he slowly panics as he returned your underwear on the basket. "I didn't even mean it! I just saw it and—"

"No it's okay..I was wondering where it went, i guess i accidentally tossed it on the laundry basket."

"Uh— i'll..wash it if it's okay for you?" Regretting his words, he looked at the floor fidgeting with his hands. Thinking about it, he thought that he'd eacape the room with your panties.

"Oh sure, thanks?" You turned around to get back on whatever you left, leaving Penguin on his state. He quickly takes your underwear and stores it on his pocket for 'later'. Trying his best to keep his dick inside his pants until he was done doing his part.

Unfortunately for him, he couldn't just forget what had happen and his erection is starting to hurt. Looking towards your direction every 10 seconds, it felt like an eternity whenever you were in the same room as him.

However, he watches you bend over to pick up the basket and tossing them inside the machine clearly doesn't help at all. He could just tell you he'll be taking a break for a while, but he already had taken his break an hour ago. Thinking for more excuses to get out of this hell situation, he was even gladder you haven't noticed when you decided to talk to him.

This was clearly his last straw, when you bent over to check on a prnny that fell under the washer, he finally lost it. Walking over to you, he inspects the curves of your ass hugging those tightly worn pants that you decided to wear today. You didn't fail to notice his presence, but he isn't talking, thinking that maybe he's just looking for something.

Wrong. He presses his erection on your ass, making you gasp loudly. "Penguin?! Wha—"

"Hey, be quiet..you wouldn't want anyone hearing." He feel his dick twitching in his pants as he presses deeper into the curves of your ass.

Deciding to finally move, you helped him get your pants and everything off you to save some time, he doesn't waste time and quickly gets his bottoms off, shoving them on floor. Grabbing his dick and pumping it a few times, he positions it on your entrance.

Hoping that holding against the floor stabilizes you enough from the upcoming thrusts. He slowly enters your core, giving you a few minutes to adjusts him. He was big, just like you expexted it to be.

After a while he finally moves at a slow motion, being careful to not hurt you. His thrusts were sensual the faster it goes, it almost felt like he was holding back especially to not cause any harm.

"Ouhm...Peng, don't..hold back." You beg him, you were positioned with your ass on the air just how he found you looking for what dropped underneath the machine. You felt Penguin stiffen as you say those five words, making him even more nervous.

"R—Right.." He doesn't dare to hold back now, he paces quite fast, skin to skin noises flooding up the room. You hopefully tried to try keeping your noises to yourself, atleast. Releasing only heavy breaths and broken gasps as his motions turn sloppy and faster, you were sure with how big he was that it was already hitting your cervix.

He starts moving faster, chasing his high. Trying your best to keep your noises kept, you were already faltering from the ecstacy Penguin was causing you, remotely releases fairly loud moans.

You felt yourself closer to climax every thrusts he gives you, loud noises of squelching from your wet cunt covering the whole room.

"Fuh—ck, (Name).." Penguin releases groans and slight whimpers.

Being too busy with each other, both of you hadn't heard the noise of the doorknob switching.

"Penguin, (Name)—" 1, 2, 3. It was Law, having to see you both on a fucked up situation right infront of his very eyes. "Are...you two...done. What." He shoves his hand across his eyes and turns around, trying to process what he had just caught.

"Oh. My. God. Captain! I—It's not what it looks like!" Penguin quickly pulls out, having you release a moan, he grabs his pants to quickly dress himself up as you do the same.

"U—uhm..." You looked at the floor trying to play cool.

"I should've known not to partner you two up for duties!" Law the person he is, decides to scold you two in the middle of the laundry room where everyone could hear it. Obviously everyone started eavesdropping on the door. He gave you two 3 hours of full scolding while explaiing that everybody needed their clothes by midnight.

However letting everything get worse, he discovered the broken machine that you and Penguin both fucked up earlier. Making the punishment much heavier.

"6 months, 6 months of duties for the. Both. Of. You." Lesson learned, not to fuck in the laundry room. Dismissing the both of you from scolding and telling you two both continue everything by tomorrow.

Whatever Penguin was happy to be able to keep your panties with him, maybe he'll continue the scenario with it.

©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.

[popcornforone]

Laundry

A Javier Peña Fic

Day 25 of Pedrotober

Masterlist

It’s time. I’ve finally completed a Javier Peña fic. & even though this is relatively short, it was still hard to write. I don’t have the best relationship with Narcos. Both times I’ve tried to watch it, has been when I’ve not been in a good place mentally, & I’ve never finished it. So when I think of writing for him I always hit a wall. So to get this written & published was a huge task but I did it. So you can now all finally go woohoo she wrote for him.

Synopsis:- whilst doing the laundry you find your favourite shirt of Javiers.

Word count:- 850

Warnings over & above:- descriptive nature of his body & how the shirt makes you feel, groping, teasing, swearing, mentioning past sexual encounters, getting each other off.

Thanks for the read people. I know some of you Amy want more of this for him but maybe it will inspire me to complete my other Peña in draft. @alyssamariag & @norththelemon thanks for the prompts.

There you stand, in your utility room. Your washer finishes its cycle. It’s a nice hot day, you know you have time to do two loads & get them both out to dry & come back in ready for ironing later. You don’t mind getting up to do the house work early on a Sunday as it means you have more free time in the afternoon to do what you want.

You did the coloured wash first. The whites & bedding will be next. You stand there & make sure nothing gets stuck at the back. No red or blue sock is going to stain all your neural colours in a minute. You bright yellow dress comes out & you sniff it. All the soap is out, & it smells so good so you unload the machine. Turning everything the right way round to make your job easier when you hang out the laundry.

It’s the second to last item you pull out. Your eyes widen at it. It’s the shirt. The shirt that sent you delulu even before last week. You’ll never tell Javier this but you’ve always called this the pink shirt of sex. Tight fitting, long neck line, buttons that do up for decency. The way he tucks it into those jean, those tight jeans. He likes them tight & fitting in all those places that catch your eye. How he always looks so big. It’s not just his gun he’s packing down there. How it shows off his arms. The muscles bulgin out, he’s so broad too. The shirt literally clings to him for all his life.

& then the man sweats. By god he sweats. It’s stained, you can’t get the marks under the armpits away. You think about last week. It had been on the news that he had made a crucial arrest. Agent Peña the hero of the day with some good news. You’d already prepped tacos for him, but when he got in & you saw the sweat still dripping off him & the pale pink shirt was now dark pink, you dropped your cocktail on the floor. His fringe still damp, his skin glistening. You pounced. You didn’t even ask him how he was. His lips felt incredible, the way your hand slid inside his tight shirt getting matted in his sticky chest hair was unforgettable. He pushed you on to the kitchen counter as he removed his belt & pulled down your panties from under your yellow dress & he fucked you hard. Glasses smashing off the side. Your hands wondering over him as he sweated even more as the hand not gripping your hip, furiously rubbing your clit. You were both making so much noise in passion that the neighbours were hammering on the back door to check a murder wasn’t going on for all the screaming. Neither of you cared. He got his prize & his stressful day out with the woman he loved, & you got to fuck the hero the town wanted to please, but he only has eyes for you now. His sweaty musk after he build up more heat, still lingers in your nostrils even if the shirt is now clean.

“If you can smell drugs on it they aren’t mine” you jolt & almost drop the pink shirt. Javier is standing behind you. A Casual shirt open, to show off his magnificent torso & shorts which one of his hands is inside stroking his length. He’s admiring how short the shorts you are wearing are. Appreciating your midriff on display.

“No P…” you smirk & add it to the basket”I was just remembering…”

“How good it felt as I made you scream like a whore last week?” He takes a step forward & you moan & nod. His hand caresses your cheek. “How good it sounded when we screamed each others names?” You nod again as his thumb traces over your crimson lips. “& how good it felt when you came so hard, your body shook for almost an hour?”

“Fuck yes Javier” you touch his chest, as your make out begins & he pushes you back against the washer. It clonks & he looks & smiles. He tugs at your tie up top, he can see your nipples harden. you have no bra on, for this lazy Sunday. It makes his life much easier & his lust bursting from the seams.

“Anymore washing to be done?” He asks leaving his first love bite of the day on your neck.

“1 more all the whites”

“Good”

“Why Javier” you ask curiously.

“I’ve heard a rumour out on the street that if you sit a woman on a washing machine as it spins, it’s like an orgasm”

“Javier!” You protest & see him giggle & lean into the washer getting out the final item of clothing, your lacy black bra. He licks his lips.

“It’s okay baby, we don’t have too, I was just intrigued”

“Well now if it’s for science we have to do it” you reply & he then turns around & picks up the basket of white & neutral colour washing.

“I’m more than happy to put in the research”

[anticapitalistclown]

Clownie can I request lookism boys helping their s/o on their period. Like their s/o is having heavy flow and keeps ruining pants and underwear (samuel, gun, Jake, and any other characters you would like the add) tysm 😊

omg sure!

Samuel, Gun and Jake helping reader on their period, scenarios

Samuel

You were feeling terrible, your legs were numb, your head was giving you a stabbing pain, your ovaries were absolutely killing you and on top of that, you had the heaviest flow, all of that made you feel like you could die.

With all your efforts, you walked through your apartment in order to throw your stained pants inside the washing machine. A stabbing pain made you crouch down on the floor, just in time for your boyfriend to come in.

Samuel was fast, and he caught you with his arm, you grabbed at him and gave him an apologetic look "today I'm not feeling really well to go out, got my period, sorry" you never knew when or how your emotionally unavailable boyfriend would surprise you "I know" Samuel gave you a plastic bag, inside there were different chocolates and candies also a lot of sanitary products "I don't really know which ones you use, so I bought the ones with best reviews".

Your eyes became teary, you couldn't hide your emotions "Samueel" you sobbed "I love you a lot" Samuel sighted and smiled "what would be of you without me?" and there it was, his lil shit side of him, even though this time you couldn't deny that this detail was actually so helpful "thank you a lot" he denied "it's nothing".

You threw your pants into the washing machine, Samuel giving you some advice about how to remove blood stains, and then you both cuddled on the sofa, watching some TV and you enjoying your candies, maybe this man is the chosen one?

Gun

You are one of the few lucky ones that can visit his place, you are dating after all, and even though you both barely have been dating two months, the previous friendship and connection made him trust completely in you. So when Gun asked you to come over his place, you always appreciated that trust and went, even if your period is killing you inside.

You were talking to him while he was making dinner, in a moment a stabbing pain made you crouch down, your wince of pain alerted him, Gun rushed next to you helping you to stand up he was confused until he saw your hands traveling on your lower stomach, knowing the source of your pain made him feel more relieved "do you need some painkillers?" you nodded "sorry" you tried your best to not ruin your date, yet your body was betraying you, Gun rushed to the shelf where he keeps the medicine "if you don't mind I'll go to the bathroom" Gun nodded "sure".

You went to the bathroom, yet your period gave you another obstruction to make your date go well, you looked frustrated at your stained pants and underwear "shit" Gun knocked on the door "are you alright? I have a glass of water and the meds" he opened the door, but you stopped him "wait, things got messy" Gun sighted and opened the door, you forgot your boyfriend is stronger.

Gun arched an eyebrow, "this little stain is the mess?" you nodded to him with a pout, your cheeks red from the embarrassment. Gun gave you the glass of water and the painkiller "give me your clothes, I'll wash them, and I'll give you something from my closet" you gave him your clothes "if you're uncomfortable I can clean it myself" too late, Gun already took your clothes "do I look like some blood will gross me out?" you lowered your head "get in the shower I'll join you in a few minutes" you lifted your head your eyes sparkling, making him smile, Gun gave a peck to your forehead "I love you" you mumbled, he kissed your lips "get comfortable, I'm your boyfriend, ok?"

Jake

Jake's love language is acts of service, knowing that a little detail can just make your life easier, make you happy, motivates him to keep caring for you. So when you texted him, "I'm on my period :(" it just took minutes for him to appear at your place with all the supplies you needed: chocolates, painkillers, sanitary products...

You welcomed him with a big hug, his arms lifting you and taking you to the living room, I love yous falling from both your mouths "I love you, I love you a lot" Jake laughed and hugged you tightly "I love you a lot too" you gave tiny pecks to all his face, your man just felt so proud of himself for making you happy.

You ordered him to sit at the sofa, and you started to arrange the products he just bought "but I want to help" you scolded him "you helped enough, don't make me angry" Jake sighted "alright" he looked at how you arranged everything and then he spotted a little stain "babe" you kept organizing "hm?" "don't get upset, but you have a stain on your pants" you froze, your cheeks were burning and you just looked so upset "again?" you cried "this is the third I ruined today" oh poor baby, Jake's heart broke at your expression he quickly got up from the sofa and reached you, his hands caressing your cheeks "It's okay love, Sinu taught me how to clean blood properly, I'll wash it, fine?" you nodded "fine" he smiled "then we can cuddle" you hugged him "I need your hugs".

[chao-thicc-hcs]

Sex with them. [2]

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Damn, didn't expect the first one to get so much attention-

Anyways, there you all go, second one. ~

genre(s): smut

warnings: it is sex, expect everything lmfao

characters: kakucho hitto, ran haitani, ken ryuguji - requested, rindou haitani, taiju shiba (my choice)

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 20+. MINORS DNI

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Ran loves bondage. Enjoys seeing you all tied up and unable to do anything to him, and he usually takes it from behind, and there will always be a mirror in front of both of you, so he can utterly humiliate the way your face contorts and how weak you look under him. Ran loves sucking on a lollipop, or just in general something sweet, gather saliva in his mouth, make you stick out your tongue, and let a long, thick streak of his saliva to go down your tongue and then the core of your mouth. He is fast and stable, almost never changing his pace, making you unable to form a coherent sentence and he knows it. Mf will ask you to scream his name, but at the same time will increase the pace the moment you open your mouth, stopping your breath and mocking you for being unable to talk. He enjoys every position, as long as there's latex, chains, or just in general bondage involved.

Draken likes to fuck you on his customers' bikes. He'd be like "Hey babe, check out this beauty I have to fix right here, let's fuck on it, eh?". Man will make sure you squirt onto its seat before he starts working on it. He will have the biggest grin when he finally returns the motorcycle to the customer. Regardless, Draken enjoys a nice rough sex with some music playing in the background. A huge fan of stockings and skirts, so expect frequent requests from him to be fucked while wearing them. He loves to stick his cock in you while you're cooking something, or just bending over to put the clothes in the washing machine. No matter how rough he is, he will not dare to slap you, nor pull your hair unless you beforehand tell him it is okay. He loves you giving him head, and what makes him nut instantly is when you choke or ruin your mascara while sucking on it. Mans a sucker for titties so his favourite positions would be anything that has your tits shoved in his face.

Kakucho loves to leave you hanging. He would play with your pussy for hours then just leave you there overstimulated, whimpering and begging for him. Or he would send suggestive pictures while at work and then come home and act like nothing happened. He would eventually hit, though. He loves you sitting on his face, suffocating him with your thighs when he eats you out, and he is most of the time quiet, so he can hear the skin slapping of your thighs on his hips and your moans better. He will let an occasional groan here and there. Uses toys, definitely. He has these vibrators that he loves putting on you and constantly change the intensity of vibrations when in public with you, enjoying your surprised face, chokers with his name on it, handcuffs, you name it. He might be a tease but always conforms to your wishes of what his pace should be - fast, rough, slow, you name it. Deffo takes pictures of you covered in his seed, or just him inside of you while your mouth is wide-open from pleasure. Favourite position is missionary, because he enjoys a full view of you.

Rindou is surprisingly, very vocal with you. He will whisper all kinds of praises, telling you how amazing you are and how he doesn't want this to end. But at the same time he will tease you even during sex and about everything you do. He will tease you about your expressions, moans and shit, but will apologize if you get offended, quickly goes back to praising you, tho. Man will get so overstimulated he will bite. Your shoulders and neck are always covered with thick, purple bruises from his lips. He enjoys ruining your make up. Sometimes he would ask you to put heavy make up on so he could ruin it completely by making you cry from overstimulation. His favourite is when you're on the phone with your parents and he slides his cock in you, smirking at your poor attempts to be quiet. He enjoys savouring the moment and is usually slow and sensual, but he won't be fast, even when you ask him, because he's petty as hell and wants you to groan in frustration or at least beg him, or call him daddy, one of those. His favourite position is lotus, because he adores hugging you and biting you.

Taiju fucks you with utmost passion. It is almost unreal. Many think he manhandles you, but he sees sex as something more than sticking his cock inside of you. His appreciation towards you is contained even in his thrusts, and he always savours the moments, making them last for more than 2 hours. His hands traverse your entire figure, and in between moans, he tells you how lucky he is to have you, how gorgeous you are. He buys you expensive night gowns and enjoys fucking you in them. The way the fabric wraps around your figure makes him go insane, and he enoys to touch the silk fabric during sex. He doesn't slap, but squeezes your boobs, thighs, ass with power, leaving bruises, or crescent marks from his nails. If he slaps it will hurt more than it should, so he majority of the time he's containing himself. He groans and grunts most of the time, but surpresses his own moans so he could hear yours better. His favourite position is doggystyle, but your back pressed to his, so he could wrap his big hands around you and feel your boobs.

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idk i am horny lmfao©