#thank you so much for sending in a request

[yoiisa]

Helloo, I dont know if youre requests are open (Sorry!!!) but I wanted to request a Sae smut where is sweet and shy girlfriend (us) who never speaks and always hides behind Sae's back, at home is a slut for his attention and wants him all night long if you know what I mean 🤭IF YOU WANT TO IGNORE THE REQUEST!!!!! I understand if it leaves you uncomfortable!! Anyways, thank you in advance (im sorry if my english is bad, its not my first language)

oh girlie. Oh girlie . . . i gotchu don't worry about a thing (¬ ₃ ¬)

Tags: pwp ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ), slight dacryphilia, praise (dirty talk), afab reader, sex, finger sucking (idk what else to call it lol ToT), slutty reader

➜ when you tell people that you're dating the sae itoshi, you're always met with the exact same response: what? ➜ because genuinely how did this work out at all? he's so distant and cold, and you're so sweet and shy. people see the two of you together, your elbow linked with his, your hand on his bicep, and you staring up at him like he hung the stars in the sky and can't even piece together how the two of you even had a conversation, let alone started to date ➜ but here's the thing: sae adores how sweet and shy you are ➜ we see through sae as a little kid with rin, and then as an adult with shidou and a little bit with isagi that sae actually has a lot of capacity in him to care and nurture others around him. if he thinks you're worth it, then he'll for sure give you the time of day ➜ and he can't exactly explain why he was so drawn to you either, but all he knew is he'd give you all of the attention you needed. he's so down bad for you it's insane ➜ so unless soccer is preventing him from doing it, he'll drop everything he can and rush to your side whenever you call, he honestly gives doberman boyfriend vibes ➜ literally all it takes is a whisper of his name, at a volume a normal person would've never been able to hear, and he just materializes next to you, his hand on your cheek and his teal gaze trained on you

➜ but enough about him feining for you, let's talk about you feining for him ➜ because once the two of you are alone? oh god, it's like a switch flips in your brain ➜ pda and the likes are a bit off putting with you. you don't really enjoy things like kissing in public that much, the most you'll do is just hold hands or link arms ➜ but when it's just the two of you, you can't control yourself. you're attached at the hip with him, and he basks in the attention like a cat in the sun ➜ after a soccer game, you're especially needy. there's just something about sae in his prime element that has you squirming in your seat, and the two of you can't help it ➜ you're thinking entirely with your pussy, and your mind is trained on one thing. you want him inside of you, on top of you, just loving you. you want to be the apple of his eye, in the spotlight of his mind ➜ you want him. you want to be his

"Sae-uhhhh~!" you squeal as the tip of his cock brushes against your g-spot. Your lying flat on your stomach, his chest flush against his back as he ruts into your needy, wet, tight heat. You reach your arms up and back around his neck, a soft whine falling from your lips. He turns his head and places a kiss against your pulse point. Each roll of his hips sends his length deeper into you, and it takes everything in you to not buck yourself back into him. "I love you," you gasp. "I love you, I love this so much- ah!" "I know baby, I know. I love you too. Fuck." he groans. He nuzzles into your hair and brings his arm around to the front of your face. He cups the bottom of your face in his hand, and you greedily lick at the tips of his fingers. His slips his index and middle finger past your lips, muffling your moans as you greedily suck on his digits. Sae tosses his head back, his eyes screwed shut as he desperately tries to hold onto his sanity. Don't cum yet, don't cum yet, he repeats in his head. Fuck, don't think about it, you can't cum yet. It's too soon- shit! Your pussy clenches down on his length as he quickens his thrust in you. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and spit connects your lips to them stil. Loud, needy sounds spill from your mouth and tears spring at the corner of your eyes. Sae stares down at the debauched sight and can't help the smug smile that tugs at his mouth. He coos, "G-gonna come for me? Now? I- fuck me, holy shit . . . I can f-feel it . . . clenchin' around me so perfectly. C'mon Y/N, just give it to me." You nod frantically, your eyes squeezing shut as your body goes rigid with pleasure. You think you can hear him in the background of your peak saying, "Pretty, so pretty, my pretty girl," but it drowns out behind the high-pitched keens that claw up your throat. Eventually, your eyes manage to peel open and you become aware of two very distinct facts: firstly, Sae is still hard. Secondly, the clock on the wall is only showing that it's 11:15. You still have at least another two or three hours left. "Again?" Sae asks, pulling out from you and flipping you onto your back. You position your feet on either side of his waist and smile. "Again, please . . ."

➜ you will not walk properly tomorrow

a/n: i should write this again but for bakugo, eren, and geto . . . hmmm, ideas, ideas . . .

[cami040405]

Told you I’d get annoying in here >:) anyways, can I request Michael, Bo, and Brahms with a fem!s/o that talks like, a lot a lot, and gets really insecure about it sometimes so she just goes quiet? Very much a comfort thing needed :p if not then it’s totally okay!

THANK YOU SM FOR ANSWERING MY OTHER TWO REQS BTW, THEY WERE WONDERFUL <3

Michael Myers, Bo Sinclair and Brahms Heelshire with a Talkative S/O (SEPARATE)

Summary: Imagine Michael Myers, Bo Sinclair and Brahms Heelshire with a Fem! S/O who talks a lot but gets insecure about it sometimes.

A/N: I loved writing this request because I identified with it a lot, I talk a lot sometimes too, so I felt very much like the character, thank you for sending the request, your ideas are great!

Michael Myers

Being with Michael was… strange to most people. You were the girl who talked a mile a minute — whether it was about something you read, your thoughts during a horror movie, or even just wondering aloud if clouds ever felt jealous of each other. People often told you to "slow down" or "quiet down."

But Michael never did.

He wasn’t the type to speak — not even once. And yet, he was always there when you talked. He listened, you could tell. He’d sit with you for hours in total stillness, letting your voice wrap around the silence like a blanket. Sometimes you’d sit at his feet while he cleaned his knife. Sometimes you’d walk through the woods with him beside you, and you’d fill the air with your thoughts while he just listened.

At first, you assumed he just tolerated it — like you were background noise. But over time, little things started to make you question that.

He’d lean in slightly when you were excited. Tilt his head when you were rambling about something obscure. Once, he even handed you a book — not for him to read, but for you to read out loud. He sat there silently while you read three chapters, curled into his side, your voice the only sound in the house.

But even with him… you had your moments. Those creeping thoughts, the ones that told you you were too much — too loud, too annoying, too exhausting. That if he ever wanted peace, it meant without you.

One evening, you were pacing the cabin, rambling about a dream you had, hands flailing as you talked — until you caught yourself. Mid-sentence. You felt that cold wave of self-consciousness hit your chest like a brick.

“I talk too much,” you mumbled, suddenly frozen, heart sinking. “God, I don’t know how you put up with me…”

The silence that followed felt like punishment. You stared at the floor, not daring to look at him. You sat down, curled into yourself, quiet. The room felt bigger when your voice wasn’t filling it.

Michael, still standing in the doorway, just stared at you. His mask revealed nothing — but his body language changed.

He walked over slowly. You didn’t look up until he was kneeling in front of you.

His gloved hand reached out. Gently — so gently — he touched your face, his thumb brushing beneath your eye like he was memorizing your features. He held your gaze, quiet but intense.

You tried to laugh it off, still unsure. “I just… I know I talk a lot. I must get on your nerves sometimes.”

He didn’t speak. But he shook his head, slowly, once. Then twice. With quiet care, he moved behind you on the couch and let you curl into him — big, warm arms wrapping around you like armor.

His hands settled against your stomach. His masked head rested beside yours. You could hear his breathing — slow and steady. He wasn’t leaving. He wasn’t upset. He was anchoring you.

You felt tears prick at your eyes. “I just… don’t want you to think I’m too much.”

Michael leaned forward slightly, and you felt the solid press of his forehead against your shoulder — his version of a kiss. His hand traced slow circles over your arm, over and over, until your breathing matched his.

No words. Just presence. Just comfort. And in that moment, you understood:

Michael didn’t just tolerate your voice.

He needed it.

.

Bo Sinclair

You’d always been a talker — a storyteller, a rambler, a collector of strange little facts and chaotic commentary. At first, you weren’t sure how Bo would react. He had that whole Southern charm going for him, sure, but beneath it was a man made of sharp steel, biting sarcasm, and deep-seated shadows.

But surprisingly? He never shushed you.

Bo liked the sound of your voice. Whether you were sitting on the front steps of the gas station rattling off about some dream you had or pacing around the house going on about a podcast episode, he listened. Not always obviously — he’d still be working on the car, tossing a wrench from one hand to another — but he heard every damn word.

He even started teasing you playfully, tossing out smirks like:

“Ain’t no one ever tell you to breathe between sentences, baby?”

But he’d say it with this softness in his voice. Like he was entertained. Like he genuinely cared.

It was on a quiet afternoon when it happened.

You were curled up on the couch in Bo’s room, legs tucked under you, chattering while he tinkered with something by the window. But mid-sentence, the words caught in your throat. Your mind spiraled.

“Do I sound annoying?”“Maybe I’m just talking too much again.”“He’s probably sick of hearing me ramble.”

And just like that, silence. Bo didn’t turn right away. But he noticed. His shoulders stilled. His hands paused. The air shifted.

He turned slowly, blue eyes narrowing in that way he did when something wasn’t sitting right. “You alright?” he asked, voice low and even.

You managed a small shrug. “Yeah. Just tired.”

That was a lie, and he saw right through it.

“Don’t bullshit me, sweetheart,” he said gently, wiping his hands on a rag. He walked over, crouching in front of you. “You were goin’ a mile a minute a second ago. Now you’re all quiet.” He tilted his head. “What happened in that pretty head o’ yours?”

You bit your lip, eyes dropping to your lap.

“I just… I feel like I talk too much sometimes,” you whispered. “Like I’m annoying or—just too much.”

Bo blinked. And then he looked at you like you’d just insulted yourself in front of him — which, in his mind, you had.

“Too much?” he echoed, almost offended. “Honey, let me tell you somethin’ real clear.”

He leaned in, one hand coming up to rest under your chin, coaxing your gaze back to his.

“You think I’d sit there listenin’ to you talk about those weird little facts, or them stories you spin outta nowhere, if I didn’t want to?” His thumb brushed over your cheek with a gentleness that contrasted every rough edge of him. “Hell, half the time, you’re the only thing keepin’ me sane in this damn place.”

Your breath hitched — eyes glassy, throat tight.

“I like the sound of your voice,” he continued, quieter now. “I like how you light up when you’re tellin’ me somethin’. I like when you forget what you were even sayin’ ‘cause you got so excited.”

He chuckled under his breath, eyes soft. “Drives me crazy in the best kinda way.”

You blinked back the sting of tears, and Bo noticed. He leaned up, kissing your forehead, lingering there for a moment before resting his own against yours.

“You don’t ever gotta quiet down for me, darlin’. Not ever. You go ahead and talk my ear off — I’ll be right here, every time.”

You nodded, sniffling softly, and he gave you that crooked little smirk you loved so much.

Then, with a wink, he muttered,

“Now come on. Tell me the rest of that story about the raccoon with the donut. I was listenin’.”

And just like that, the words started coming again — hesitantly at first, then more freely — and Bo? He just leaned back, arms crossed, watching you like you were the only thing that mattered.

Because to him… you were.

.

Brahms Heelshire

The manor was quiet.

A strange thing, considering how much your voice usually echoed through its old walls. Whether it was humming while organizing the dusty shelves, ranting about something you read, or just talking to Brahms about literally anything, your presence filled the house like sunlight — warm, persistent, and impossible to ignore.

But today? Silence.

You sat curled on the far end of the window bench in the library, knees drawn up under your chin, hands tucked into the sleeves of your cardigan. You were staring out at the garden, not really seeing it, just sinking into your thoughts.

From the hallway, soft footsteps echoed. Brahms emerged from the shadows, face partially covered by his porcelain mask. His gaze drifted across the room—searching—before settling on you.

“Darling?” His voice was cautious.

You didn’t answer right away. Just a small, tired shrug.

He tilted his head. Something was off. You hadn’t spoken to him all morning. No cheerful greeting, no “Brahmsie, did you move my book again?” No rambling about your dreams or the weird crow you saw outside. Nothing.

A quiet Brahms was normal. A quiet you? Not at all.

“Why are you being so… quiet?” he asked, stepping closer.

You hesitated, biting your bottom lip before finally whispering, “I just… I don’t know. I talk too much. I get annoying. I thought maybe you'd enjoy a break.”

The moment those words left your mouth, Brahms froze.

Then, slowly, like he couldn’t quite believe what he heard, he took a step toward you. And then another. His long frame moved with that eerie grace he had — like a wind-up doll, gentle but uncanny.

“You think… I’d want less of you?” he said, voice low. “That I get tired of you?”

You avoided his eyes. “Sometimes I see your face and it’s like… I don’t know. Blank. Or distant. I just overthink, I guess.”

He was beside you now, sinking to his knees in front of the bench. His masked face tilted up to you, gloved hands gently finding yours and tugging them free from your sleeves.

“Blank doesn’t mean bored,” he murmured, voice softer now. “I just get lost in you, that's all. I listen to every word. Even the nonsense. Especially the nonsense. You fill the house. You fill me.”

You blinked. He tugged your hands to his chest, pressing them over his heart.

“When you go quiet,” he said, almost mournfully, “everything feels wrong. Empty. Like the house used to feel before you.”

His grip tightened just a little, as if he thought you might slip away with your silence.

“Say something,” he whispered. “Anything. Say I smell funny. Say you forgot how to spell ‘rendezvous.’ Say I’m a spoiled man-child. I don’t care. Just... don’t go quiet. Not with me.”

You finally laughed—a breathy, watery laugh that escaped your throat before you could stop it. And it lit his whole posture up like a switch had flipped inside him.

“There she is…” he sighed, pulling himself up onto the bench to sit beside you. “I missed your voice, little dove.”

And as you began speaking again — slowly at first, hesitantly, then with growing comfort — Brahms curled around you like ivy, head on your shoulder, arms holding you gently in place, like you were something precious he couldn’t bear to lose.

He didn’t say much else.

He didn’t have to.

His silence said: Talk all you want. You’re never too much for me.

.

[thirteenheavens]

Hi! Can I request hongjoong based on their song bouncy? Thanks xo

Make it bouncy || Kim Hongjoong

Notes: this was so fun to write I feel like I could of put more in tho hehe

Hongjoong's hands grip your hips as you sink down onto his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt. His eyes are dark with desire as he watches you, a low groan escaping his lips.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he mutters, his fingers digging into your skin. "You're so tight." You begin to move, lifting yourself up and then sliding back down slowly, savoring the feeling of him inside you. Hongjoong's head falls back against the pillows as pleasure courses through his body.

"Just like that," he encourages, his voice hoarse with need. "Take what you want from me." His hands roam your body, caressing your breasts and stomach as you ride him faster. The room is filled with the sounds of your moans and the slapping of skin against skin. Hongjoong's hand comes down on your ass with a sharp smack, making you cry out in pleasure. The sting sends a jolt of heat straight to your core, and you clench around him tighter.

"Again," you gasp out, needing more of his rough touch. "Do it again." Hongjoong obliges, his palm meeting your skin again with a satisfying sound. He grips your hips tighter, guiding you to bounce faster on his cock.

"You like that, don't you?" he asks, his eyes darkening with lust. "You like it when I'm rough with you."

"Slow it down," Hongjoong growls, his voice low and commanding. "I want to savor this." He grips your hips tighter, forcing you to slow your movements to an agonizing pace. The torturous slide of his cock in and out of you makes you whimper, but you obey his order.

"Good girl," he praises, his eyes fixed on where your bodies are joined. "Now lift up until just the tip is inside, then slide back down." You do as he says, savoring the way his cock stretches you open with each deliberate movement. The change in pace makes every sensation more intense, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge.

Hongjoong's smile widens as he watches you follow his instructions. "That's it, make it bouncy for me," he encourages, his voice rough with desire. You start to bounce on his cock, your breasts jiggling with each movement. The sound of your skin slapping against his fills the room, mixing with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.

"Fuck yes," he groans, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts. "You're so beautiful like this, taking my cock so well." The praise sends another wave of heat through your body, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to orgasm. Your thighs start to tremble with the effort of maintaining the pace, but you refuse to stop until he tells you to.

"I'm going to come," Hongjoong warns through gritted teeth, his fingers pinching your nipples. "Touch yourself for me, let me watch you fall apart.” You reach down between your legs, finding your clit and rubbing tight circles as you continue to bounce on his cock. The dual sensations push you closer to the edge, your body shaking with the need for release.

"Come with me," Hongjoong growls, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. "Let go for me, baby." The combined stimulation is too much, and with a loud cry, you finally let go. Your body convulses as waves of pleasure crash over you, your pussy clenching tightly around Hongjoong's cock. Hongjoong follows right behind you, his hips stuttering as he spills deep inside you. His fingers dig into your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he rides out his orgasm, filling the condom with his release.

"Fuck," he breathes out, collapsing back against the pillows and pulling you down onto his chest. You rest your head on his chest, trying to catch your breath as you come down from the most intense orgasm of your life. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as you both bask in the afterglow.

Hongjoong's chest vibrates against your cheek as he speaks, his voice still rough with desire. "I can make you feel even better," he repeats, his hand tracing lazy patterns on your back. "But only if you want to try something new." You lift your head to look at him, curiosity and excitement mingling in your expression. "What did you have in mind?" you ask, your heart racing at the possibilities.

Hongjoong's smile turns devilish as he gently rolls you onto your back, his body hovering over yours. "If you wanna know how I can show you right now?" he asks, his fingers trailing down your stomach.

[hughes-your-daddy]

Idk if you listen to Sabrina but in good graces where she says “break my heart and I swear I’m moving on to your favorite athlete” and now popstar!reader is in a happy but private relationship with Quinn. Her ex thought he could win her back after buying backstage passes and thinks he’s lucky to also meet his favorite athlete backstage only to find out Quinn and reader are together and Quinn is lowkey pretty protective of her

good graces

pairing: quinn hughes x singer!reader

summary: requested above

warning: creepy ex, mild sa

“i’m excited to see you perform baby,” quinn smiles, thumb running over your knuckles as you drive to the arena in the uber.

you had been asked to perform at the nhl all star game at half time, so here you are arriving at the arena for a sound check, ahead of tonight’s performance.

a few of the hockey players would also be there to do some pr, but hopefully none of them should be watching. well, quinn has made it his mission to sneak a peek since he won’t be able to watch tonight.

you quickly arrive, hopping out and grabbing your bag. thankfully there isn’t any paparazzi yet so getting inside is easy. you get taken through to a dressing room area where you and quinn dump your stuff before he moves to meet some of the other players for their pr.

you meet your manager at the rink, seeing the stage set up ontop of the ice like it will be tonight.

“ok so we have a lineup of taste, good graces and espresso, we’ll just need to sound check good graces since it’s a new one.” the stage manager says as you nod, pulling your hoodie tighter around you as you step out onto the ice, uggs keeping your feet warm and stepping onto the stage.

you say a quick hello to your band before starting to check vocals a little bit, saving your energy for tonight you just stay by your mic stand.

you finish good graces and before the music cuts out you hear clapping. confused your eyes drift over to the side of the rink where a group of players are stood, quinn at the centre of them clapping.

you see his smile, wide across his face. as he cups his mouth sending a whoop your way. you giggle slightly at the group before going back to sound check mode, your manager speaking over your in ears.

“we good?” you ask down the mic, your sound desk man sending you a quick thumbs up. you give them one back before handing the mic off to a sound tech and hopping down heading over to quinn.

“you were great baby,” he smiles, pulling you in for a tight hug, pressing a kiss to your temple, “i love that new song,” he whispers making me chuckle.

“you like your line?” you ask seeming him grin wide, nodding his head.

“that’s my sister in law everyone.” you hear jack call out making everyone laugh.

quinn sends him a glare, luke knocking him over the head, as his teammates giggle. quinn hasn’t asked you yet, but there’s been subtle signs, from both of you even his family that you’re ready to take it to the next level.

you say a quick hello to all the other players before you heading back to the dressing room, quinn trailing behind.

“i’m gonna head back to the hotel, do you know how much longer you’ll be?” you ask, grabbing your bag and sliding quinn’s jacket on.

“probably an hour or so.” he smiles, coming up to wrap his arms around your waist, resting his heirs head in the crook of your neck. you let your hands come up tangling in the curls at the base of his neck.

“want me to grab you some lunch on the way back?” you ask, feeling his smile against your neck, nodding.

“that would be insane thank you.” he mumbles before pulling away pressing his lips to yours. you smile into the kiss letting your hands tangle further into his curls before pulling away.

“i’ll see you later baby.” he smiles before you press one more quick kiss to his lips and leaving. you stop by a small cafe on the way back getting two chicken salads and a smoothie before heading back to the hotel.

you decide to just lounge abit, watching a bit of netflix while eating and then showering, before your glam team arrive, starting to set up in the room. you change into a small tank top, easy to take on and off after your makeup and hair when quinn comes back.

“hiya baby.” he smiles pressing a quick kiss to your lips before heading off to the bedroom to have his pre game nap.

your makeup artists does your signature rosey glam, with your hair stylist doing some hollywood curls, setting them in place with some hairspray.

your hairstylist is just finishing your hair when quinn pops in, still half asleep from his nap.

“i’m gonna shower now babe, jack and luke are gonna come up so we can head down together.” he smiles as you nod.

“i just need to get my dress on so we shouldn’t be long.” you smile before he disappears to the bathroom, jumping in the shower.

your hairstylist finishes and your given your dress to change into. you quickly thank them before heading through to the bedroom, hearing the shower in the en-suite still running.

you take off your sweats and tank top, also removing your bra since you can’t wear one with your dress before jumping at the sound of a wolf whistle.

“jesus christ quinn.” you laugh, seeing him walk out with a towel hung low around his waist. he comes over, setting his hands on your waist, a few water droplets covering your chest.

“baby, i got to get ready.” you smile, pushing a few wet curls off his forehead to stop them from dripping.

“do we have to go?” he whines causing you to laugh.

“well i think your captain if you team and im performing under a contract so i think so.” you reply sarcastically before he pressing a kiss to your neck, nothing sexual, just loving since he knows he can’t actually kiss you because your makeup artist would kill him.

“hurry up and dry off so you can zip me up.” you smile, patting his chest as he laughs, moving away to get ready.

you change your panties as well, before moving across to slide your dress on. the gold slip dress, corseted top slides on over your body, opting for a strapless look.

“can you zip me up please.” you ask quinn through the mirror. he walks over, shirtless in dress pants, zipping up your dress before pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“you look beautiful baby.” he whispers, wrapping his arms around your waist, letting his head rest on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirror.

“mmh, you should go for the shirtless look.” you giggle causing his to laugh before pulling away to finish getting ready.

you move back into the open area of your room, your stylist tying the corset before help you step into your loubiton heels.

you stand to take a few pictures before quinn comes out of the bedroom, dressed in a black suite, with a matching black tie, letting his curls breathe today, no beanie.

he stands back watching you for a bit before you motion for him to join you.

“just a few pictures babe?” you smile and he hesitates for a moment before joking you, letting you team take a few pictures before jack and luke are coming in, smiling when seeing both of you.

“hiya.” you smile giving each of them a hug.

“yous both look great.” jack smiles, pulling away as luke hugs you.

yous take a few pictures all together before your driver is ready to take all of you to the arena.

you head down to the lobby where there is a few paparazzi waiting outside the hotel since most of the players are staying here. you wave to a few, quinn’s hand staying on your lower back, offering a hand to help you into the car, before jack and luke hop in as well.

the drive isn’t too long and soon enough your stepping out heading onto the red carpet. you take a few solo pictures before quinn joins you, wrapping his arm around your waist, yours moving to the middle of his back, tapping your fingers gently, a little code you both have when in public situations.

he looks over to you, matching your smile before continuing to move down the line, jack and luke joining again for a group one before heading inside.

“love you baby, i’ll see you at half time ok?” quinn says, pulling you aside from the hustle and bustle, slipping into a side corridor.

“i did t get to tell you but you look really handsome tonight quinn.” you smile, a blush creeping on both your cheeks.

“not as hot as you though,” he smirks, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, “can’t wait for tonight.” he mumbles against your lips before pulling away and heading down the corridor to the players room.

you giggle to yourself before heading down to your own dressing room where your glam team are setting up.

they help you out of your dress and get into some sweats and a shirt to wait in before having to get ready. you watch the game on a small monitor on the wall, before needing to get into your performance outfit, your team doing a few touchups and heading out to the arena.

you see the teams heading off before being escorted to the side of the stage which is being pushed onto the rink quickly by tech teams.

you begin performer “good graces” a new song with your back up dancers hearing the arena roar at “Break my heart, and I swear I'm movin' on with your favorite athlete.”

yours and quinn’s relationship hadn’t been quiet as such but you hadn’t made a big thing about it in public, simply just letting the public see whatever they see, you and quinn just being a regular couple, so hearing that line made the fans go crazy.

you finish up your set, waving goodbye to the arena, but one person catches your eye, someone who you thought you’d left 4 years ago, someone quinn saved you from.

your breath catches in your throat as his eyebrow raises at your eye contact before you keep your composure moving off the stage quickly walking through the corridors.

you space out, letting people move around you, someone taking your microphone, removing your mic pack before your free to go. you find your breath for a minute heading back to the dressing room, your glam team waiting outside.

“give me a minute yeh?” you say politely, flashing a small smile as they nod, letting you inside.

you quickly head in, leaning back against the door closing your eyes and taking a breath. you try to take a few calming breaths before jumping at a voice.

“very nice performance y/n.” he says, and you freeze, looking forward and seeing him, stood there, hands in pockets smirk on his face.

“that lyric huh? you knew hughes was a favourite of mine?” he asks, slowly walking over. your hand darts to the handle, but his is quicker grabbing your wrist.

“what do you want?” you ask, voice wavering of slightly, his grip tightening around your waist.

“i want you back, fuck that hughes boy.” he says getting closer, before he drags you away from the door, flinging you into the small sofa, your head hitting the wall, sending you into a dazed world.

he lets out a small chuckle before you see his blurry figure walk towards you again, towering over your figure.

“you always were good to me.” he says, leaving down, as you try to squirm away. you feel your breathing pick up, his grip tightening one again on each of your wrists, pining you down from moving. you feel tears well up and slowly fall, as your body starts to succumb to what’s happening.

“get the fuck off of her,” you hear a voice yell before he’s being pulled off of you by security, quinn wrapping you up in his arms, “baby, i’m here, breathe baby.” he soothes as you break in his arms, hear still half off from the break.

he holds you for a few minutes before you find your breathing begin to settle again, the room now empty of security, just you and quinn.

“that’s it baby, just keep breathing.” he says, grand brushing over your hair.

“i tried to get away quinn.” you whisper, his lips finding your temple, pressing a soft kiss to it.

“i know baby, but they’ve got him now,” he whispers, letting his head rest on yours as you pull away wincing, “baby, you hurt?” he asks, quickly pulling away at your flinching.

that’s when you realise how deep the ache is in your head.

“i hit my head, he through me against the wall,” you mumble, his hand coming up to check your head, his brows furrowing at the small bump starting to appear on the back of your head.

“i’m gonna get a medic to come check you baby.” quinn says, finger gently grazing over your head.

“don’t you have a game to play?” you ask, sniffling slightly, wiping your nose.

“they can go one without me, just an all star game, nothing serious.” he says sending you a soft smile, before moving to poke his head out the door calling for a medic.

they come in and check your head, doing a concussion protocol to see you have a very small one, nothing too serious but they tell quinn to keep an eye on you.

“let’s get you changed baby, we’ll head back to the hotel.” he smiles, moving across to your bag, pulling out your sweats and his hoodie, helping you get changed out of your outfit into some comfier clothes.

“give me 5 mins baby, im gonna go grab my stuff and ill be right back.” he says, pressing f a soft kiss to your forehead before quickly leaving, letting you rest against the couch, holding a small ice pack the medic gave you against your head.

as promised quinn is back in no time, hurriedly dressed in a hoodie and some shorts, sliders on, hair tossled from the sweat of the first game.

“ok baby, got an uber waiting outside, you think you can walk?” he asks and you nod, quinn moving to pack a couple things in your bag before slinging it on your shoulder and moving to help you up. he slides an arm around you waists before you walk out, security buzzing around the building each sending you a sympathetic smile as you pass.

quinn helps you into the uber before your back off to the hotel, your head falling to rest on his shoulder, as you drive back.

“you gotta stay awake baby.” quinn mumbles, gently nudging you as your eyes start to droop.

you manage to stay awake for the rest of the ride before you heading back up to your room, quinn swiping you room card and guiding you inside.

“lay down baby, i’ll order us some food, you’ve got to eat something.” he smiles, laying you down on your bed. you climb under the covers, letting your head fall back into the soft pillows.

you feel the bed dip beside you, your eyes fluttering open, moving to rest your head on his chest, his arms wrapping around you.

“they’ve arrested him.” he mumbles, you nodding against his chest, “gonna make sure he can never find you again ok?” he says, as you move to look up at him.

“that’s twice now you’ve saved me.” you say huffing out a small laugh, quinn copying.

“mmh, knight in shining armour.” he smiles, brushing your hair back, “i’ll always be here baby, but hopefully it’ll never happen again.” he says, hand moving to cradle your cheek, “i promise.” he says before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“relax baby, i’ll wake you when the food gets here.” he smiles before you rest yourself back against his chest, letting yourself relax a bit for the first time since he appeared.

[creamecafe]

please please please do a spider-girl type reader with bob 🙏🏻 i need to see how he is with that and maybe her joining the new avengers?? thank uuuu

Robert "Bob" Reynolds with Spider-Girl!Reader HCs

Pairing: Robert Reynolds x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none just fluff

Author's Note: thank you so much for requesting this I hope you enjoy it

Want a request for Bob like this one? Check out my latest post, read my request guidelines and send a request!

Read on Wattpad & AO3 here

When he meets you, he's very nervous

He's heard that you have spider like powers and was expecting a spider mutant or something similar, not an actual person

Once learning about your powers he's so invested

Asking how you got them, what you can do with them

Asks you if you can get something from across the room just so he can see and hear the thwip of the web

You have made hammocks out of webs countless of times for him because he says he likes the material of it and how it feels.

Saving him many times if he falls on missions or to avoid him getting hurt by webbing him

Spending time on rooftops of buildings a lot and eating or talking

If his powers get out of control or things start flying, your spidey senses detect it and immediately catches it with your webs

Thinks you're the coolest person next to Ava and is happy you're on the team

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Doing Time 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, threats, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you try to keep your brother safe in jail but put yourself in danger along the way.

Characters: con/ex-con!Steve Rogers

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Sunday mornings are usually those where you wake up restless. It’s the day you work on chores. Yet when you rouse, you only want to sink back into the bed. You could spend all day in the faded afterglow. 

You roll onto your side and squeak. Your thighs are tender. Every bit of you is sensitive to the point of twitching. Even just the touch of the duvet is too much. 

Yet the man who made you feel this way is gone. Your chest tweaks. Is he gone? Was this all just a twisted plot by him? That would make your life so much easier. If this could just be a fantasy, 

“Sweetheart,” Steve’s drawl makes you tense. 

You lift your head and look at the door. He fills the frame easily. He’s in a pair of grey boxers and nothing else. His muscle-forged shoulders are round and firm, his middle thick and padded too. You can see all the strength you felt the night before. 

You sit up and hug the top of the blanket. You look around. “What time is it?” 

“Take your time,” he assures. “I was just looking in on you.” 

“Oh,” you rub your neck. “I-- I should--” you search for anything to cover yourself. “Get up.” 

You turn your legs over the side of the bed and keep the duvet up. He hums. “You don’t gotta.” 

“I do. I have to get the laundry. The dishes. And groceries--” 

“Laundry’s folded, waiting in a basket. I did the dishes. And we can grab groceries later.” 

You blink at him, “huh? No, you didn’t--” 

“You know, being locked up, the little things, they’re almost fun these days. I don’t got some guard glaring at me or barking at me for standing the wrong way,” he chuckles and crosses the room. “Besides, you don’t need to worry about all that. We got a road trip.” 

“A road...trip?” You echo. 

He sits next to you and caresses your bare shoulder, “mhmm. As much as I’d like to stay in bed all day.” 

You squeeze the blanket tighter and blush. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Going to see your brother. Like mom said we should.” 

“What?” You wince. “No, I’ll go. You don’t have to--” 

“I don’t have to. I want to. We’re together now.” 

You gulp and lean away from him. You stand up and brush by him. You take your robe off the dresser and open it. Before you can pull it on, there’s a tug on the other end. 

“Why’re you running?” He yanks until you face him. 

“I’m not,” you angle it in front of your body as best as you can. 

“You’re hiding--” 

“I’m cold--” 

“You could’ve stayed under the blankets--” 

“Steve,” you tug until he lets go. You wrap yourself up. The robe smells like him too. “You shouldn’t... come yet. It’s just Vaughn, he can be...” 

“A brat. Oh I know it. It’s why you’re lucky I was there to watch over him. But what about now?” 

You search his face. “You don’t think...” 

“I’m just saying. I was in there. He wasn’t making any friends.” 

“Steve,” you gasp. 

“I can’t lie to you, baby.” He puts his hands on your arms. “Not ever. Your brother needs a heavy boot to keep him in place. I might not be inside but I still got connects on the inside. And he needs to see that I still got his back so he stays in line. Make sure he gets out one day. I’d like our kids to know their uncle--” 

You choke. Kids? That’s not an argument for today. Hopefully, it never truly comes to a head. 

“I didn’t... I don’t have an appointment,” you say. 

“I do. Special request for a family meeting. The two of us.” 

“What? He’s not—He's not going to like that.” 

“He’s going to like what I’m tell him too,” Steve’s voice deepens and he brings a hand to your chin. “He should like whatever makes his sister happy. Especially after all you’ve done for him. And if he isn’t, well, then, I guess he’s on his own.” 

“It’s just—he's—he's just very--” 

“He needs to grow up. You go out there and see him and he doesn’t appreciate that. Well he’s going to start or he’s not going to see you anymore. You got a life to live here. With me.” He pets your cheek with his knuckles. “And I spent enough of mine behind bars. I’m not waiting any longer.” 

He steps closer and leans it, drawing you to him. You don’t stop him. You know better. He kisses you as you close your eyes, hiding the anxiety brewing in your heart. You have a bad feeling about this. 

💙

You’ve only ever gone to the prison alone. Being with Steve feels strange for several reasons. He keeps your hand in his as you step inside the visitors’ entrance and approach the front desk with its thick plexiglass windows. 

He lets you go to take out his wallet. You glance around as you sense the gazes of several guards. Even out of his prison garb, they must recognise him. As ever, his blond and silver hair is tidily combed and parted. He wears a blue-grey short-sleeve button up and a pair of grey slacks. The sleeves are tight around his biceps and a gold watch flashes on his wrist. 

You take out your ID and hand it over with his. You swelter in the judgment of the errant eyes around you. What must they think? You show up here with a former inmate... He might have been acquitted on appeal but how much do they know about that? 

“Step over on the x’s,” the woman directs. “Officers will search you and escort you in.” 

You follow her instructions. The officers sweep over you quickly but you notice the extra attention they give to Steve. He chuckles. 

“Miss me?” He asks. 

One of the officers clucks. 

“Outside’s treating you well,” the one feeling him up turns his wrist to admire the watch. 

“Well, you know, I got a good bag for the settlement. False convictions are a cash grab,” Steve scoff, “low pay for time done, though.” 

The officer huffs with a hint of doubt. 

“Alright, go in,” he points down the hall. “They’ll get you seated.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Steve salutes him and reaches for you. “Come on, sweetheart.” 

You let him drag you down the hall to the visitors’ room. Another officer greets you and checks his clipboard. He takes you to a spot at the desk with two seats and two receivers. The chair on the other side of the transparent barrier is empty. 

You fidget as you wait, staring at the white seat across from you. What will Vaughn think? What will he do? The last question worries you most. 

“Damn, I’m just thinking about the days it was me over there,” Steve chuckles and puts his hand on the back of your chair. “We’re you this nervous then? I could never tell.” 

You shrug. 

“I can tell you now. I counted down the days. I’d be on my cell bed, sat all pretty and patient for you, ‘til they sent one of these bozos to get me,” he sighs and slaps his thigh. “I can’t hardly believe I’m sitting right next to you now.” 

He plays with your sleeve. He leans over and kisses your other shoulder. You shiver and twine your fingers together tightly in your lap. 

You wince as a door shuts with a muffled thunk. You sit up as you sense the approach on the other side. Vaughn drags his feet between two guards and stops behind the chair. He snorts. 

You can’t hear through the glass as his face twists. He tenses and the guards struggle with him. You stare at him as his eyes scour you venomously, then flick over Steve. His lip curls and he tries to shake off the guards. They finally get him to sit. 

Steve clicks his tongue and sits forward, bend one arm over the table. He chuckles as he picks up the receiver. Vaughn crosses his arms and squares his jaw defiantly. You hesitate but lift your receiver too. 

Steve points through the glass. Vaughn sneers. Steve leans forward and taps the glass. Your brother rolls his eyes then reaches for the phone. The guards cautiously back off. 

“What the fuck is this--” 

“You watch your mouth,” Steve warns. “We came all this way. The first thing you can start with is thanking your sister for being here and telling her how much you love her.” 

“Fuck off, pal.” 

Steve laughs. A dark rumble that unsettles you. You’ve never heard that from him. He gets an edge now and again, the kind that makes you nervous, but this is something more dangerous. 

“I’m giving you another chance to show some respect,” Steve warns. “So clean up the language and thank your sister.” 

“You fucking him?” Vaughn sets his sight on you. 

“Vaughn, please, settle down.” You plead 

“Huh? Is that it? How the fuck did that happen? I mean--” He snarls against the phone. “I love you, sis, but I got nothing but this for a slut.” 

He swallows and spits at the glass. Steve bristles and squeezes the receiver tight. You look over as his knuckles turn white. He leans forward. 

“Last fucking chance. Apologise--” 

“Fuck you, dude. You’re out. You got nothing in here. You run shit. So I’ma say what I want to my sister and you’re going to sit there like an old decrepit man and choke--” 

“You’re walking the line,” Steve is terrifying calm. 

“Me? Me?! You’re fucking my sister--” 

“I’m gonna marry your sister. I’m a man. Unlike you.” Steve insists. 

“Marry?!” Vaughn erupts.  

He stands and gnashes his teeth. He slams the receiver against the glass. You drop yours and sit back as he hammers at the barrier until the phone breaks in his hands. The guards grab him and drag him off away from the table. 

Steve is unfazed. He watches the tantrum. You stare at the pieces of the broken receiver as the cable hangs limply. Vaughn kicks and writhes as he’s wrestled to the door. 

Steve hangs up the phone. “Ungrateful.” 

“Steve, you should’ve let me speak--” 

“And what? Let him call you a slut?” 

“I could’ve talked to him. You didn’t let me--” 

“I’m not letting anyone disrespect my woman,” he stands up. “Not even your brother. You understand me?” 

“Steve, I understand, but he’s my family--” 

“You don’t get it sweetheart,” he takes your hand and tugs you up. “You need me. You don’t take care of yourself like you should. You let them walk right over you. Well, that’s not happening anymore.” 

You get up and sniff. “I’ll come back on my own. I’ll talk to him--” 

“You’re not coming back. He can deal with consequences.” 

“Steve.” 

He squeezes your hand. You quiet. He doesn’t let up as he drags you from the room. You pass the guards with your head down. He doesn’t stop at the front desk as he marches you out. 

Finally, he stops. Right by his car. He puts his hand on the passenger door and faces you. 

“Get one more thing, doll. You don’t argue with me like that. Especially in front of other men.” 

Your mouth falls open, “I wasn’t--” 

“You were,” he puts his other hand on his hip. “I’d do anything for you but I need you to meet me halfway, got it? We’re a unit so you stand by me. Your brother wants to act like a child, so let him mope like one. He spit in your face and you’re going to take it? Nah. Not my woman.” 

“He’s upset--” 

“You’re too soft. I love that about you but it’s no good,” he tuts. He stands straight and opens the passenger door. “Come on. We got business to take care of.” 

You get in, hiding your confusion and chagrin. You knew it would go about as well as it did. So did Steve. He's not stupid. And he’s not telling you everything, not like he said he would. This business... what exactly is that? 

You would ask but you’re not sure you’d get an answer. Knowing won’t do anything to change whatever he has planned. Just like you can’t do much to stop all those big dreams of his; wife, kids... you’re caught in the whirlwind of his lost years. 

[writing-for-marvel]

What kind of movie does this babe pick for your upcoming movie night - summer blockbuster, rom-com, Oscar bait drama, or thriller?

Not sure Bucky can focus much on the movie when you’re next to him

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Series Masterlist

Warnings: strictly 18+, car sex, public sex, protected vaginal sex, Bucky and reader being horny for each other, this is the drive in movie date mentioned in Fight or Flight Response

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: thank you to my darling @yenzys-lucky-charm for helping me brainstorm for this, and to my lovely Cia who always sends the most interesting asks ♥️ banners by @vase-of-lilies

Bucky puts your car in park towards the back of a field a little ways outside the city, a huge outdoor screen set up with the title of the latest scary movie blockbuster projected upon it.

“Was this your plan all along, James, bring me to a horror movie in hopes that you might get a little snuggle?”

“Is it working?” There’s a hopeful twinkle in his eye that makes warmth bloom in your chest. It’s as if you’re a schoolgirl with a massive crush on the popular boy who could arguably do so much better than you.

Sometimes you still can’t believe Bucky’s real and he’s chosen to go out with you yet again.

“Mayyybeee.” You tease, watching Bucky pull out some of the sweet treats he had bought just for this occasion. “I do get scared pretty easily.”

The movie is extremely suspenseful. A classic psychological horror with a serial killer on a murderous rampage. Bucky fills out the drivers seat of your car, which makes it easy for you to lean across the space between the two seats to snuggle into his arm.

It’s during a sequence when the killer is close to finding the one of the main characters do you find the need to hide your face in Bucky’s shoulder, squealing when you hear the distinct sound effects of a knife piercing flesh over and over again. Bucky’s arm slings over your shoulder and pulls you closer as the soundtrack reaches a crescendo, signifying the end of the climactic scene.

“It’s over, darling. There’s no need to be scared.” Bucky whispers, and when you look up from hiding in his shirt, his face is very close to yours. His wide, blue eyes look down at you with such care and concern, flickering to your lips for just a moment, and before you even know what you’re doing, your lips meet his and your tongue is sweeping into his mouth in a heated kiss, dissolving the tension which has been building between you since he picked you up tonight.

It’s not exactly the most comfortable position to be in, the gear stick and centre console in your way of being on top of him, but you make do with the situation you find yourself in. Making out with Bucky is worth overcoming any obstacles in your way.

With his warm lips ravishing yours, his hands cupping your face, you feel like you’re in heaven. The movie, though somewhat interesting, doesn’t hold a candle to how enticing Bucky’s desperate, wanting kiss is.

You get completely lost in each other, forgetting completely that you’re actually in the front seat of your car, in full view of anyone not paying attention to the film. But that doesn’t stop you unabashedly making out with him, and palming his hardening length with the cover of the dashboard.

“I think the movie’s finished.” You eventually comment coming up for air as car engines roar to life around you.

“I really couldn’t care less.” Bucky barely gets out before his lips connect with yours again, his tongue requesting access once again to your mouth.

“Buck, they’re gonna know what we’re doing.” You giggle slightly embarrassed, noticing how the headlights of all the cars passing you to exit shine a spotlight on your sinful activities.

Sensing your hesitation, Bucky leans back in his seat, but he still gazes at you with a euphoria clouded expression and swollen lips.

“Do you want to keep going?”

You smile, nodding enthusiastically. You couldn’t get enough of this beefy paramedic if you tried.

He smirks, adjusting himself in his pants before turning on the car. You watch as Bucky rests his arm on your passenger seat to reverse the car out of the thoroughfare, he exits the field where the drive in movie was set up, driving back along the road to the city where there is a secluded lookout point over the skyline.

Knowing there was not enough room in the front seat to get busy, you both migrate to the backseat, where you can finally cuddle up beside him, and bask in the warmth his beefy body provides.

“What number date is this for us?”

“Did you not come up for enough air while we were making out? Have you really lost track already?” You tease, but he just flashes you a look which says ‘humour me’. “It’s our fourth.”

“Well then I’m gonna give you an orgasm tonight for each of those unforgettable dates.”

And as you have come to know, Bucky delivers on his promises.

In the confines of the backseat he manages to rid you of your bottoms, and while you straddle his thick thighs, he talks you through your first orgasm, coming apart on his fingers.

Then he bends you over on the back seat, and eats you out from behind, sucking your sensitive bundle of nerves in his plump lips until you’ve practically collapsed onto the plush seats. Bucky’s strong hands on your hips keep your centre right where he wants you and he doesn’t stop devouring until you’ve cum for the second time.

You’re already blissed out when he teases you by rubbing his tip through your wet folds and when his thickness finally sinks into you, your whole body practically quivers with pleasure. Bucky’s hips don't relent, his balls continually slapping your clit, until you’re screaming his name and coming apart yet again.

“One more, darling. Need you to give me one more.” You mewl as Bucky pulls you on top of him in the tight, hot space, his usually bright eyes appear so dark, his pupils blown with desire and all you want is to please him, give him everything his deep, rich voice is asking of you.

It doesn’t take much for your next orgasm to crash over you like a waterfall, given how sensitive you’ve become. Bucky soon follows, panting, moaning and whimpering underneath you in the backseat, which might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“I’m not sure my legs are working after that.” You chuckle once you’ve both caught your breath, using your forefinger to move a strand of hair out of Bucky’s gorgeous eyes.

“I was that good, was I?”

“Eh, you were sufficient.” You tease, both of you knowing full well that pulling four orgasms from you is the true indicator of just how good the sex was for you. It’s always amazing with Bucky, even cramped in your backseat.

There’s silence as he studies your face with a smile, something on the top of his tongue, a tension that fills the already steamy car with words unsaid.

“I don’t want this date to be over just yet.” It's very endearing how vulnerable his voice sounds, as if he thinks perhaps the only reason you came out with him tonight was for him to fuck you, when in reality the part was just a fun bonus.

“Me neither, Buck. And it doesn’t have to be.” You smile, giving him a kiss in an attempt to show the affection you hold for him and not just the sexual attraction. “Are you in the mood for ice cream?”

“I’ll always be in the mood for ice cream if it’s with you.”

Bucky kisses you once more, then proceeds to pick you up so you don’t have to use your wobbly legs to get to the passenger seat, before treating you to the best ice creamery in the whole city.

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[revelboo]

Oh yay, we’re sending pets? Here’s Hank (affectionately dubbed windmill because he wags his tail in a circle), he was born under a shed and there’s not a single thought behind his eyes! :) Could we maybe get some TFA Oppy love or some Kup love? [Also, I’m currently working on that request you sent me a few days ago 🫶]

Awww! Cute!

🔞 Mass displaced mech 🌶️

Touch

TFA Optimus

• Laying your cheek on an outstretched arm, you relax into the feel of his servos gently running along your bare skin, digging carefully into knots. And he’s surprisingly good at it to your surprise, so very careful of his strength. Toes stretching, you smile when he leans and brushes his mouth against your shoulder. “Thanks,” you say.

• “I don’t need to be thanked for taking care of you,” he murmurs, mouth sliding down your spine as his palms run down your sizes, feeling your ribs. Feels you shiver when he presses kisses against you. Lazily worshipping you with his mouth. And he reluctantly leans up when you roll over under him, catching his wrist and guiding his hand to touch you. Not that he needs any prompting.

• He might not think he does, but you want to. Sitting up, he scoots back so he’s not straddling your thighs. And you get up onto your knees, mouth brushing against his jaw, his neck, as he rumbles at you. Hands sliding down his chassis, you slide a fingertip over the plating hiding away his spike. “My turn to take care of you.”

• Shuddering, he frees his spike, venting raggedly when you keep kissing his neck, soft hands wrapping around his spike. Stroking him gently. Before you push against his chassis with a hand, smiling up at him when he goes back on his elbows for you. And he’s frozen as your head lowers, mouth brushing over the head of his spike before you take him into your mouth.

• Hearing him groan, you take your time with him. Tongue sliding against him as you swallow as much of him as you can, glancing up at him to watch his reaction. Seeing his jaw clench, head back and hands fisting against the berth to keep from reaching for you. Holding still for you as his ragged venting shifts into low growls when you begin cautiously bobbing your head. And he’s trembling, growling in his own language though you’re not sure if it’s praise or profanity.

[melwnst]

────── ⋆⋅☆ BIRTHDAY BOY, S.W

summary. Sam deserves to be celebrated, so you surprise him with something he’s always wanted to do for his birthday.

⭑.ᐟ to apologize for my previous post… here’s a cute one for Sam’s birthday! There’s also a birthday boy (dean’s version) if you’d like to read that :) please interact and send requests if you have any<3

word count. 884

supernatural masterlist/full masterlist

──────────୨ৎ──────────

The sun’s not even up yet. You know Sam’s bound to wake up soon, so you wait. You wait because the excitement is so high, you can’t go back to sleep. It’s not even your birthday- and yet you’ve never been more excited. You can’t wait to see the look on Sam’s face once he sees what you have planned for him.

A few long minutes later, you can feel him stir under your arm, you’re not one to be loud and too much in the morning, you’re not even a morning person- but Sam’s too special for you to stay still.

‘Morning.’ His hoarse voice rings in your ears.

‘Morning handsome. Happy birthday.’ You’re already sitting up in front of him on the bed, rubbing your hands like a Machiavellian villain. Like you’re plotting against him.

‘Okay, spill. What’s going on?’ Sam doesn’t even say thank you- he’s too focused now. He’s almost scared because he knows you take this too seriously. He almost doesn’t want to get out of bed- so he wants to know what you’ve planned.

‘What? Nothing!’ You’re not exactly the best at lying. It’s not in your genes, much less just you- you suck at it.

‘You have a tell.’ Sam raises his eyebrows.

‘I do not.’ You slap his arm, laughing trying to stay credible.

‘You so do. When you lie you roll your eyes. You don’t even do that when you’re annoyed.’

‘You’re seeing things.’ You roll your eyes, and the moment you do you sigh. Sam laughs at you, because you do have a tell.

‘Okay, fine. But I’m not telling you it’s a surprise.’

‘I hate surprises.’ He lays his head back on the bedpost.

‘You won’t hate this one, promise.’ You lean closer, and plant a quick kiss on his lips.

‘C’mon, move it! Shower, then get in the car. We’ve got an hour drive we have to hurry.’ You steal another kiss before running out of the room.

Sam looks at the door that just closed, your footsteps leaving further and he smiles. He smiles because he knew you wouldn’t stay still for his birthday and do nothing. And he can act annoyed- he probably will, but he’s so thankful for you. Thankful that someone still cares, still celebrates him in ways he deserves to be.

After a quick shower, he sees you already waiting by the car in anticipation.

The drive is quicker than expected but it’s quiet. It’s just music in the background, his hand on your thigh, some quick stolen glances.

The moment you get there, Sam’s so confused.

He sees planes, he sees costumes, and then he sees people jumping out of them from the sky.

‘You didn’t.’ He turns to look at you, only to see your hands covering your mouth while laughing.

‘So? You like it?’ Your heart almost stops in anticipation because he’s not smiling.

‘You’re insane you know that?’ He breaks a smile, finally.

‘Is that a yes?’

Before you have a chance to even hear an answer, Sam hugs you and spins you around. He whispers a small yes in your hair while your laugh echoes all around.

‘But it’s just me right? You’re not coming?’ He asks while setting you down, because he knows.

‘No I’m coming.’ You give him a small smile, although your hearts starts to beat faster by the second because you’re realizing what you’re about to do.

‘But- well you can’t? You’re so afraid of heights you cry when you have to get on a plane that’s why we drive everywhere. You cried last month because you had to jump from a window 3 feet up the ground?’

‘Okay first of all I don’t cry, that’s stupid. Second, yeah I’m a little scared but you’ve wanted this for so long I can’t not do it with you.’ You lie, again because you’re embarrassed.

‘So you’re doing it for me?’ Sam ignores that and teases you.

‘Oh shut up.’ You bump your shoulder into his, and soon enough he puts his arm around your shoulder.

Your hand goes up to intertwine with his.

‘Thank you for this. This means a lot.’ He looks down on you.

‘Of course baby, you deserve this. You deserve everything.’ You look up, and Sam looks at you like you’re the best thing to ever happen to him. He looks at you with so much love your heart might give out from more than just the stress.

Sam takes a bit of it away though. You’re not so nervous anymore- because you’re conquering a fear, and you’re doing it with Sam.

‘I love you.’ He smiles at you leaning down, but when he’s closer than possible, your hand leaves his, your body out from under his.

‘C’mon lover boy, we got some parachuting to do!’ You run to the small warehouse full of planes, but Sam doesn’t move.

He stays still and looks at you. Really- looks at you. He’s always known that you were the one. But now? He wonders if he should propose now instead of waiting. Maybe marry you on the spot even, because after this, after what you did for him, realizing one of his dreams, he never wants to let you go. He doesn’t want to go one more day without calling you his wife.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist: @tinas111 @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @lov3-audz @mostlymarvelgirl @that-stanford-girlie @sunnyteume @bohoooitsme (comment to be added!)

[svtiddiess]

Hi Eunha!! I love your work sm!  i love when i get notifications of your posts, makes my day! 🩵 Could I please request Wonwoo x fem reader with prompts

27. “if only you knew the effect you have on me.”

134. “Someone might see us!” “Isn’t that the fun of it?” (smut)

Wonwoo and reader are friends, he always seemed neutral to her but one night at a party he gets liquid courage to tell her..

Thank you!! xx

"If Only You Knew The Effect You Have On Me" + "Someone Might See Us!"

Pairing: Wonwoo (SVT) x afab!reader

Genre: suggestive, non-idol! au, drabble

Rating: suggestive/mature

Word count: 0.5k

Note: Another small surprise! Sorry this took so long anonie!

You furrow your brows in concentration as you dab Wonwoo's shirt with a tissue, trying your best to soak up the beer he managed to spill on himself. You shiver slightly as the cool night air brushes past you, both of you are on the balcony of Hoshi's house, and the sleeveless dress you wore to the party isn't helping you stay warm. Instinctively, you shift closer to Wonwoo, trying to shield yourself from the piercing air.

"Wonwoo, stop moving," you mumble, although it's inevitable that he'll sway a bit as he's not exactly sober at the moment.

Suddenly, his hand darts out, catching yours and pulling you close. You gasp as you collide against his chest, your cheek pressed flush to him.

"Wonwoo, what—" You glance up, but the words die in your throat. His gaze burns into you, so intense it sends a shiver down your spine, leaving you restless under his stare.

"If only you knew the effect you have on me," he rasps out, using his other hand to gently cup your cheek.

"What…" The word slips out in a whisper, your thoughts too scattered to form anything else.

"Do you have any idea how insane you drive me?" His voice is low, velvety, as he brushes his nose against yours in a teasing graze.

His hands glide down your body, slow and deliberate, and you shiver at the contrast—his touch is rough yet achingly tender.

"Every time you're near me," he rasps, "I have to act like it doesn't wreck me. But it does." A sharp exhale. "I hold back so much with you."

You melt into his touch, arching instinctively as his palms map every curve, every dip—like he's memorising you. Then his lips find the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he inhales deeply. A whine escapes you before you can stop it.

"Fuck, you drive me crazy. I can't hold back anymore," he growls before smashing his lips on yours.

A surprised gasp escapes you as his lips crash into yours—but you don't hesitate, kissing him back just as fiercely. The kiss is hungry, messy, all teeth and desperation, like he's pouring every ounce of frustration into it. His hands slide lower, gripping your ass with a possessive squeeze, and you moan into his mouth.

"W-Wait! Someone might see us!" you protest weakly, though your body arches into his touch.

"Isn't that the fun of it?"  He smirks before claiming your lips again, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes you whimper. Despite the chill in the air, your skin burns under his hands. He hitches your leg around his waist, and your breath hitches as you feel the hard press of his desire against you.

"Let me take you home," he murmurs, lips grazing your ear. "I want to taste every inch of you."

You nod, already aching for him, craving more. His smirk deepens as he pulls you away, his mind racing with all the ways he plans to devour you.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @sashaaahh @xueisaaa17 @aeriyell @eshia16 @dreamingofpcy @archivistworld @kyeomiis @iwannakisspoutycheol @foxiesgf24 @livelaughloveseventeen @kwanniehae @ateez-atiny380 @junnhuisworld @horangipower17 @cheolsbb26 @scoupshawty @shuas-winnie30 @amaranthar @cherriecsc @jennwonwoo @cherrybb96 @smiileflower @yumyumcoo

[angel-writes-here]

Pinky Promise

G-Dragon x AFAB! Reader Synopsis: A date gone wrong, a best friend who harbors secret feelings, and a girl who's oblivious to it. Warnings: SMUT, unprotected p in v (Plz be safe!), a little angst, fluff. Attempted sexual assault, not heavily detailed but enough to trigger. Please read at your own discretion. A/N: Thank you for the requests, I promise I'm getting to them, it's just taking time. I appreciate every single of one of you! Please comment if you'd like to be added to my tag list!

“So,” you sing as you walk into the living room, sitting down on the couch next to Jiyong.

“So,”  he asks not looking up from his phone.

“I have a date tonight,” you squeal quietly and his eyes lock on you.

“A date? With who?”

“Remember that guy from the coffee shop I told you about a few weeks ago, Jungin?”

“Yeah,” his brow is quirked.

“Well, he asked me out on a date and I said yes!”

“Oh, congratulations.” Jiyong puts on the best plastic smile he can.

“Will you help me pick out an outfit?” He nods his head.

“Sure.”

“Great, let’s go shopping!”

-

At the mall Jiyong watches carefully, with obvious security around as you start picking out pieces and holding them up, Jiyong shaking his head yes or no to the options.

“How about this,” he holds up a black sleeveless top and a pair of jeans.

“Cute, and we could add a gold necklace!” you say as you spot one near the counter. Jiyong’s heart softly aches in his chest, he’s loved you for a long time, but he also knows what the fame does to people’s significant others. It can change them for the worse and Jiyong didn’t want that to happen to you. He cherished your naturally bubbly self.

“Go try it on!” He smiles as he walks with you to the changing area. You pop out with a smile on your face.

“It’s perfect!” you squeal coming out. Jiyong’s heart races in his chest.

“You look beautiful,” he smiles.

He finds a leopard print clutch for you to complete the outfit, along with some cute wedged heels.

You get up to the counter, ready to place your card to the machine when Jiyong beats you to it.

“Ji, no I just wanted your advice, not your money.”

“My treat, you shouldn’t be paying for this, as a matter of fact take my card tonight, in case he tries to stick you with a portion of the bill.” You roll your eyes.

“Thank you, and no I have money for that, I’m not worried about it.” The lady hands you the bags and you walk out.

“You may, but it’s a date, and if he’s not man enough to pay for your meal, then I am. Take it.” His resolve is strong and you realize if you don’t just take the card, he’ll find a way to sneak it in your wallet and, as he’s done in times past, take your cash out holding it hostage till you come home.

-

“Tada!” You smile as you walk out, turning in a small circle for Jiyong to show off the outfit.

“You look great, y/n,” he smiles. He walks up to you taking your hands in his. The moment is charged, but you’re not exactly sure with what as you peer into each other's eyes, silently.

“I um, here,” he says breaking the tension as he pulls out his wallet. You sigh but except the card.

“Fine, but,”

“No buts, I’ll be here waiting for you so I can hear all about it. And I’ll have my phone,” a knock on the door interrupts him.

“Send me your location just in case you need me, ok?”

“I’ll be fine, but ok.” You roll your eyes playfully. Jiyong was like this about every date you went on. Always so protective. It makes your heart happy that he cares so much.

-

Dinner goes well, the guy really seems interested in you, asking about your hobbies, friends and family.

“Wait, the G-Dragon is your friend? That’s so cool!” he smiles and you nod hoping it doesn’t turn into a whole thing.

“Yeah, he’s really sweet. A great friend.”

“That all he is?” Your date quirks a brow while he takes a swig of his drink.

“Well, yeah, I mean, he’s my best friend really. We’re constantly together when he’s home. Always buying me stuff, I swear the man dotes over me,” you giggle but your date doesn’t seem impressed.

“Hmm,” he nods his head, lips pursed.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just when a guy is close with a girl, especially the way you’ve described him it’s usually not without a small crush.”  The waiter brings your food over and you both smile at him.

“What? No, Ji’s just a good guy. Wants to be sure I’m taken care of.” Your date nods and for a brief moment there’s a bit of awkward tension until he breaks it.

“After dinner, we should go get ice cream,” he suggests and you grin nodding your head.

-

After you two grab ice cream, he drives you to the park where the two of you can sit and talk. The radio is on, and when you get parked you send Jiyong a message letting him know you’ll be late and where you’re at.

As you finish your ice cream you notice he’s moved closer to you. The front seat has no middle console so it’s easy to maneuver. He leans in to connect your lips and you reciprocate.

His hands begin to roam and you tense up.

“I don’t do that sort of thing on a first date,” you try to lightly push him away but he’s got you pinned against the door.

“Come on, I spent all that money on you, the least you can do is give me a little,” he smirks before forcing another kiss onto you. Your heart thrums in your ears as your realize what he’s doing.

“Get off me,” you try to push him, but he’s too strong and pushes back. You’re barely able to get your phone out of your pocket and text Jiyong a single word.

Help

Jiyong’s phone buzzes and he see’s the singular word, his heart rate increasing rapidly. He jumps up, grabbing his car keys and speeds out the door.

Jungin’s hands are now on your jeans, trying to unbutton them as you struggle.

“If you’d give in, you’d enjoy it!” he says through gritted teeth.

“Get the fuck off me!” your strength is no match for his. He’s determined to get what he wants.

He gets your jeans undone, and just as he’s about to shove his hand down your pants, the car door opens and he’s snatched out.

Jiyong.

He pulls Jungin to the ground, landing a few punches to the guys face before your crawling out, tears now escaping as the terror is over.

“Ji let’s just go,” you try to pull him off and he looks up at you, noticing your fragile state. Something in him snaps, he lands one final blow, knocking the guy out cold before taking your hand and leading you to his car.

The car ride is silent, but Jiyong holds your trembling hand the whole way home.

“Thank you,” is all you can muster. He squeezes your hand in response. You walk into your apartment and Jiyong shuts the door behind you.

As if the floodgates open, you feel your body tremble as you process the events. Tears stream down your face, and you feel him come in behind you, hesitantly putting his arms around you.

“I can leave if you want to be alone,” he mumbles in your ear.

“No!” you almost shout as you turn around in his arms, clinging to him for dear life.

“Please don’t leave me,” you sob.

“Ok, ok, I’m here.” His arms wrap around you protectively.

“I’m not going anywhere."

His heart aches for you.

The rest of the night you’re glued to his side, Jiyong being the only place you feel safe.

“Would you stay the night, I don’t know if he’ll try to find me, and if it wasn’t for you I would’ve been,” you shutter at the thought and he just hugs you to his side, kissing the top of your head.

“There’s no where else I’d rather be.”

-

The two of you are laying in bed, finally calming down from the events earlier in the evening. Your head is on Jiyong’s chest and he’s playing with your fingers. The air between you is calm and easy.

You peer up at him, marveling at facial structure when he peers down at you.

“What?” he asks suddenly feeling a tinge of shyness.

“Nothing, I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to have you. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you in my life.” You smile as you hug his waist, Jiyong’s heart swelling and yet, breaking all at once.

-

A month goes by since that night, and Jiyong decides he can’t wait anymore. The media be damned, the fans, true fans, will be happy for him, and he knew he’d do whatever it took to protect you.

He’s over at your apartment, the two of you having one of your regularly scheduled movie nights when Jiyong’s arm drapes over your shoulder. You lean into him, head on his chest and you hear his heart beat erratically.

“Everything ok?” you ask without taking your eyes off the tv.”

“Yeah,” he breathes but decides it's time, “Actually no,” you look up at him, those sweet eyes of yours that he can’t resist.

“What’s the matter?”

“I need to be honest with you, because if I’m not then I won’t forgive myself. But I need you to promise me something,” he begins and you give him your undivided attention with a single nod. You sit cross legged, your knees touching each other.

“Promise we’ll always be friends.”

You hold out your pinky, Jiyong playfully rolling his eyes, the tension temporarily subsiding.

“Kwon Jiyong I have never broken a pinky swear. So,” you say defiantly as you shake your pinky at him.

Jiyong links his pinky with yours and before you can pull away, he takes the opportunity to gently pull you forward, his lips crashing into yours. Your eyebrows raise as your eyes widen for a brief moment.

His lips are smooth, he tastes of mint and a hint of a cigarette, the taste intoxicating as your pinkies stay interlocked between you.

He pulls back, slowly.

“Fuck, I’m sorry I just didn’t know how to tell you, I get it, you don’t feel the same way, I’m so-,” you cut him off by leaning back in, lips connecting for a deep kiss. He makes a simple noise of surprise, but he kisses you back.

The movie is long forgotten as he pulls you into his lap. You caress his face as your tongues glide against one another, exploring each other’s mouths. Soft moans are swallowed up between you.

His hands go to your thighs, rubbing them up and down. You test the waters by grinding down on him, but he immediately stops your hips.

“Don’t do that,” he breathes out, head spinning.

“You don’t want me,” you begin to ask but he stops you.

“’s not that,” he chuckles to himself.

“I do, but, I don’t want you to do something because you think I want it. I want you to want it too,” he explains and the care and devotion of this moment sends a thrill of excitement through you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you,” you whisper and you feel his cock start to become hard beneath you.

“Y/n,” he starts, but you interrupt him.

“Ji, I never thought you liked me that way, so I brushed it off, but I want you. All of you,” you lean in whispering in his ear, “inside me, filling me up and making me forget everything but your name.” He moans at your words as you kiss just below his ear. Your teeth nip and graze his sweet, soft skin.

“I want you to ruin me,” you mumble against him and you feel his cock growing harder by the second.

“Make me cum so hard I’m seeing stars,” you kiss his jawline on the way back to his lips.

He puts his hands underneath you to stand up, walking you to your bedroom.

“Careful what you wish for baby.”

He removes your top, mouth attaching to your hardened nipple flicking it with his wet tongue. Your head tilts back as you sit in his lap, your fingers curling into his hair. He switches sides, giving the other the same attention, the pulse between your legs now prominent.

“Ji, I need you,” you whine as your hips grind down on him.

Your arousal is dripping, causing a wet spot in your panties. You move your self off him so he can remove his clothes.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you see his cock spring out, the tip leaking. You moan in response before you can help it, your cheeks heating up when he smirks.

He pulls you back to him, your own bottoms and panties being discarded.

You hover over him, cock brushing your wet folds, you whimper as it brushes your clit.

“I want you to make a mess all over my cock,” he mumbles in your ear as he guides your hips down. Your eyes flutter closed as your mouth hangs open at the feeling of him inside you. Your head drops to his shoulder as you get used to the stretched feeling.

“You ok, baby?” You can hear the slight smirk in his voice.

“Mhm,” is all you can whimper out as you shift your hips, causing both of you to groan.

You start to bounce up and down slowly, the tip of his cock reaching the spot that causes pleasure to course through your body, Jiyong’s grip on your hips tightening to the point of bruising.

Your head tilts back as you feel his mouth come up and attach to your neck.

“God you’re taking my cock so well, such a good girl for me,” he whispers into your ear, causing your walls to clench around him. He chokes out a moan at the feeling.

“Me praising you gets you off, huh? You like being my good girl, hmm? Keep riding me, you can do it,” he encourages as once again your walls clamp down, but this time you whine out as the coil in your stomach starts to form.

“God you’re beautiful," he says as he forces your head down to capture your lips, his hips bucking up to yours now. You gasp as you hold him close, eyes screwed shut as you feel it.

Your orgasm is on its brink.

“Come on, be a good girl and make a mess, cum for me,” he huffs out. Heat engulfs your body as your bodies collide harder, your cunt tightening around his cock.

You whine as you feel your muscles lock, your orgasm taking control of your body, pleasure consuming you head to toe.

Jiyong continues pounding into you, hips never slowing down until his own orgasm hits, hips sputtering as your walls clench around him still.

“Oh fuck,” his head tilts back with his face scrunched as his own orgasm wrecks him.

You ride it out, letting him fill you up with every last drop. He huffs, catching his breath and you stare down at him, a fucked out look in your eyes as you bring your lips to his.

Your bodies are covered in a layer of sweat and for a moment the two of you stay connected. Immersing yourselves in one another before, with Jiyong’s help, you slowly raise up off him and fall beside him.

“I told you I never break a pinky promise,” you joke and he smiles kissing your forehead.

“So, we’re still good?”

“Better than good.” You smile at him.

“No more dating other guys?”

“Not as long as you take me on dates from now on.” You smirk.

“With pleasure,” he giggles as he gives you a chaste kiss on the lips.

“You want to hop in the shower with me?” He asks and you nod with a wide grin gracing your face.

Tags: @breakmeoff @thelovelybireader

Please do not repost my work

Love notes, comments and requests are appreciated!

[l0vergirlwrites]

Could I request early season Spencer Reid with his gf and they’ve been dating for a bit already and have already done the dirty… anyways one night he tries to initiate sex but she just isn’t feeling it tho cause she has a headache when she tells him that tho she gets super worried because her ex bf always got mad about it- but Spencer is just soooo sweet and understanding and he even offers to give her some pills and a head massage as well. (All while yapping about the biological causes of headaches and condoning her for not drinking enough water because this is Spencer LMAO) anyways i hope this is okay 🫶 i know you write suggestive but i don’t want u too push ur limits, thanks!!!

nothing to be sorry for ; spencer reid

synopsis: you’re worried that you made things awkward after rejecting an advance from spencer. but he assures you that you’re allowed to say no, regardless of what past relationships have taught you.

warnings: established relationship with spencer & fem!reader, descriptions of reader’s body (nothing detailed), mentions of reader being partially nude (very brief), suggestive themes relating to sex & consent, mainly just comfort & fluff!!

note: thank you so much for requesting this anon! i hope you enjoy! #consentalwaysmatters 💌

“you know that i can feel you staring right?”

your tone was lightly coy with a hint of a smile, turning to look over your shoulder at the edge of the bed where spencer sat. he rubbed his clammy hands on his plaid pyjama pants, cheeks & neck flushed with both admiration & embarrassment as he continued to stare at you.

he was caught red handed.

you had just gotten out of the shower, long strands of hair damp as some stuck to your freshly hydrated skin. with your chest facing the closet in front of you, spencer had the luxury of letting his eyes take in the expanse of your backside; the curve of your shoulders, the brief view of your breasts as you turned towards him, the dip in your waist, the faint beauty marks his glasses allowed him to see from far away, the plump fat of your ass covered by a pair of cotton panties…

he had to will himself not to unravel then & there, carefully watching as you lifted your arms to slip a shirt over your head.

“sorry. you’re just… really distracting” he gulped, averting his eyes to his lap, fingers tapping against his thighs as dirty thoughts of you plagued his mind.

due to his brain fog, spencer didn’t notice the tiredness behind your gaze, couldn’t tell that your head was throbbing behind the innocent smile you gave as you soon stood in front of him, perfectly masking how you were feeling.

“you’re cute, you know that?”.

on instinct, his hands moved in their own accord to your hips, fingers pads gently pressing into the fabric of your underwear & the little bits of skin that peeked out at the sides.

he looked up at you with nothing but fondness mixed with a hint of lust & want, pulling you closer so you stood in between his legs.

“i’ve missed being around you in quite literally any capacity if you can tell,” he smiled when your hands ran across the naked skin of his shoulders before playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, your nails sending shivers down his spine. “& i find you to be insanely beautiful. that’s why i’m staring”.

his words caused you to smile so hard your cheeks started to hurt as much as your forehead did. “i’ve missed you too, handsome”.

spencer wouldn’t be surprised if his neck had already turned pink by this point, but his focus was more attuned to you moving to sit beside him on the bed, how you allowed him to rest one of his hands on the thick of your thigh, how you cupped his cheek to press a loving kiss to his mouth.

& he was eager to deepen it, your nose brushing against the frame of his glasses when he pulled you into his side, humming appreciatively at the reciprocity.

“would now be a good time to let me uh…” spencer gulped as he pulled away to gauge your reaction, “show you how much i’ve missed you?”

but up close like this, he noticed the flicker of hesitation in your eyes, how your eyebrows softened & you bit your bottom lip, internally conflicted.

“i want to, i do—believe me,” you started with guilt in your tone, “but would it be okay if we waited until tomorrow? i’m sorry—“

“you don’t have anything to be sorry for” he cut you off firmly but kindly, intertwining his fingers with yours & hoping his softened facial expressions would show that it’s not a big deal to him.

“you’re not upset?” you asked with a furrowed brow, a tad bit surprised by his reaction.

you haven’t been with someone who hasn’t reacted poorly in this kind of situation.

the brush of spencer’s thumb on the back of your hand made your worries settle. “not at all,” he said immediately & surely. “consent matters above all else”.

you let out a small breath of relief at the fact that he understands, that you don’t have to walk on eggshells around the topic. “i feel the same way. others i’ve been with in the past weren’t so understanding…”

“i’m sorry, you don’t deserve that” spencer squeezed your hand with a slight frown, nerved that people from your past made you second guess your feelings. “sex between us is not a transactional act or a guilt trip. it’s…” he tried finding the words, but you swooped in.

“it’s meant to be special & feel good when we both equally want it”

“exactly” a kiss to your forehead solidified the sentiment.

ducking your head into the crook of his neck, letting your eyes flutter closed. “i have a headache. that’s why i’m not really in the mood”.

“it’s okay, sweetheart. no matter what the reason is. how about you lay down & i’ll get you something for the pain, hmm?” another kiss or two was pressed into your hair when you agreed, pulling back to look spencer in the eye.

his breath hitched when you ever so slightly adjusted his glasses. “love you” & thank you for not making me feel bad about how i feel.

“love you too” & i value how you feel, don’t ever think otherwise.

spencer was in & out of the bedroom within minutes, returning with a glass of water, pain medication, & a granola bar because “it’s generally not recommended to ingest pain medication on an empty stomach because it can unnecessarily irritate the lining of your stomach & gastrointestinal tract. plus, the extra glass of water is to help increase your water intake since i read in this study that…”

for the remainder of the evening, the two of you curled up in bed with bedside lamp on, soft chuckles floating in the air as he massaged your temples & scalp until you were about to fall asleep.

“maybe in the morning we can revisit your idea from earlier, depending on how we both feel”.

spencer just smiled when you pressed a kiss to his chest, lips touching his collarbone. “we can revisit that for sure. but for now, just focus on sleep, sweetheart”.

you hummed contently. “okay, handsome”.

[dantes-jacket]

A little surprise

Dante x fem reader

Author notes: request #7! Dante finds out you’re pregnant! Mentions of throwing up, and so much fluff :)

There’s a good amount of things you hate in the world and one of those things is throwing up. It extremely uncomfortable and disgusting. The awful aftertaste left in your mouth makes you want to throw up again.

It’s day two of throwing up for most of the day and you’re despising every single millisecond of it. You don’t even have your husband here to hold back your hair while you’re throwing up everything in your stomach. Of course when you get sick Dante is on a long mission. The world is really hitting you when you’re already down.

You’re finally able to sit down on the couch without getting nauseous and you’re taking advantage of it. You’re watching some tv when the door swings open. You see Trish and Lady strolling on in. Ah it must be check up day. Whenever Dante goes on a long mission he always sends those two to check on you.

Most of the time they show up on their own because they want to hang out with you but they also have to check to make sure no demons are hanging around. They do the sweep of the inside and outside and give you the thumbs up for an all clear.

They oddly keep standing in front of you and give each other a look. Lady speaks first, “You look like shit.”

Trish smacks her, “Don’t listen to her. You look a little pale. You feeling okay?”

“To be honest I’ve been better. I can’t stop-“ bile rises up your throat once again. You cover your mouth and dash to the bathroom and empty your stomach. Lady and Trish follow you. Trish holds your hair back and Lady rubs your back.

When you’re finally throwing up you flush the toilet then wipe your mouth with a stray towel. “As you can see, I’ve been better. I can’t stop throwing up.”

“Is it something you ate?” Lady asks.

“I don’t think so? I haven’t eaten anything different plus I can’t keep anything down so I’ve barely been eating.”

“We are going to take you to the doctor. Dante will kill us if we just sat by and didn’t do anything.” Trish states while grabbing your hand.

The three of you head to the urgent care near Devil May Cry. You check in and wait to get called back. The wait isn’t long until a nurse calls your name. The three of you stand up and follow the nurse to your room.

The nurse is a nice old lady, “Okay sweetheart sit on the exam table.” You do as she says and then she asks, “So what seems to be the problem dear?”

You explain to her how you have been nauseous, can’t stop throwing up, and can’t keep any food down. While you tell her she takes notes on her clipboard.

“Is there a chance you could be pregnant?”

You freeze at the question. Pregnant? You and Dante have sex quite often but could you really be pregnant?

“I mean my husband and I have sex often so possibly?”

“Let me get a test and we’ll have you take it because all your symptoms are lining up with early pregnancy.”

You’re speechless and don’t know what to say. So Trish answers for you, “Thank you ma’am.” The nurse just nods and leaves the room shutting it behind her.

Once she leaves you snap your neck to Lady and Trish, “PREGNANT!?”

Trish stands up and walks over to you. She places her hands on her shoulders, “It’s okay, we’ll figure this out.”

“But- Dante and I have never talked about kids or about getting pregnant.”

“Hey, calm down. Stressing yourself out isn’t going to help. Let’s have you take the test and see what it says. We’ll be here the entire time, okay?”

You take a deep breath, “Okay.”

The nurse walks back in with a cup and Trish steps back. The nurse walks you through what to do and hands you the cup. You walk to the bathroom across the hall and do the steps you were told to do.

When you’re done you walk back to your room and hand the test to the nurse. “Thank you dear. The results should be back within a couple of minutes.”

You bounce your leg up and down due to your nerves. You see a hand placed on your knee and look up to see Lady. “You’re okay. I’m also sorry for being rude earlier.”

“Don’t worry about that at all. I know I look rough, it didn’t even bug me.”

She just nods and keeps her hand on your knee. You hear a knock at the door and the nurse walks back in. She holds the results to you and you take them. All you read is “positive”. Your hand covers your mouth and you start to cry. You back at your friends and smile, “I’m pregnant!”

They smile at you and wish you congratulations. The nurse clears her throat, “Congratulations but I do have to kinda ruin the moment. Here is a list of doctors you can go to make sure everything stay good with your pregnancy. Make sure you stay consistent with your appointments. It’ll help you and the baby.”

Trish takes those papers from her and thanks her. The nurse wishes you congratulations again then leaves. “Let’s get you back to the shop.”

Once you’re back you’re pacing around the living room. “How am I suppose to tell him?! I mean we never talked about this. What if he doesn’t want a kid? Just look how everything happened with Nero.”

Trish rolls her eyes, “No way we are comparing Vergil’s kid to your little baby.”

“Hey I’m just saying! Look how reacted when he found that out.”

“Do you seriously think Dante would be mad at you? Or leave you?” Lady questions.

Your eyes widen and you wave your hands in front of you, “No god no! I know he wouldn’t but I just, what if he’s not ready? He’s still doing so much and I don’t want to add more to his plate.”

“You’re overthinking too much. Let’s just go to one of these doctors so they can do an ultrasound. You can tell him by showing him the picture.” Trish explains.

“Okay, we can go first thing in the morning. You two are welcome to stay here. We have guest bedrooms or if you so please, the couch.” They laugh and take up the offer. You three all go to bed early to prepare for the morning tomorrow.

The next day you’re sitting in another doctor’s office getting the ultrasound done. The doctor is pointing to the little baby growing in your stomach. You start to tear up, that’s your little baby. You’re going to be a mom and Dante is going to be a dad.

The doctor asks if you want to have a picture of it and you eagerly answer yes. The doctor prints out the photo for you. You two talk about your next appointment and what to expect. You take every word the doctor says to heart because you don’t want to mess anything up.

You’re back at Devil May Cry with Lady and Trish. They decided to stay until Dante gets back to make sure you don’t need help with anything and that you stay okay.

It’s not until a couple more days go by that Dante is walking into the shop. The three of you girls are eating dinner when he walks in. He says hello to the duo then walks right to your seat.

“Hi baby, missed you.” He leans down and kisses you.

“Hi love, I missed you too.” You go to stand up and hug him but he puts his hands in front of him.

“As much as I would love a hug from you I absolutely reek. I’ve been in a sewer system this entire time and I’m not letting you smell that.”

You laugh, “That’s sweet but I already smell it.”

“I know don’t remind me. I’m gonna shower, I’ll be back.” He kisses you again then heads off to your shared bathroom.

You get up and make him a plate so he can eat. You’re glad you made extras today. You finished making his plate and head back to the dining room. You place his plate down right by yours.

You go back to eating and talking with the duo about your plan. You hear Dante walking back down and you three go silent. Before he can comment on it, “I made you a plate, come and eat.”

“Oh you sure know the way to my heart.” He digs in and groans, “Man I missed having your food.”

The three of you laugh at his reaction. Being in a sewer system really must such. Trish and Lady ask about his mission and he tells them all about it. Of course emphasizing the fights to make him look good. The duo of them just shake their head and let him continue on with his story.

Once he’s done he turns to you, “How about you? What did you do while I was gone.”

Boom this is your moment. “Let me show you!”

You get up and grab the photo from the ultrasound out of your purse. You hide it behind his back and he smirks, “Oh I get a surprise now?”

You nod your head quietly and hand him the photo. He stares at it deeply and you can see all the gears working in his head. Then you see it click.

“Wait this is-“ he looks up at you, “You’re pregnant?”

You nod again and grin, “Dante, you’re going to be a father.”

“Holy shit,” he covers his mouth and looks at the photo again. He abruptly stands up and pulls you into a hug and spins you around.

He’s laughing and smiling, you mirror his emotions. He places you back down and holds your face in his hands, “I’m going to be a dad. I can’t thank you enough baby. You mean the world to me and knowing you’re having my kid is incredible. You’re going to be such a great mom.”

You start crying but he doesn’t hesitate to wipe your tears, “I can’t wait to see you be a father Dante. I love you. Thank you for doing this with me.”

He leans in to kiss you. It’s a loving and sweet kiss. It fills you with hope and love. The future is so bright for you two and you cannot wait. He can’t either and you can tell through this kiss.

You two disconnect and can’t stop smiling. Dante turns to the others that are still in the room, “Did you two know?”

Trish smiles, “Yeah we took her the doctors and stayed to make sure she was okay until you got back.” Lady just nods along and smiles.

Dante disconnects from you and pulls them into a hug, “Thank you. I can’t repay you two enough.”

Lady answers, “Just as long as we are the aunts that’s all we need.”

Dante breaks the hug from them and you walk over to him. You stand right next to him and he wraps his arm around your waist to pull you into his side.

“Of course you didn’t even have to ask.” You respond to Lady.

Dante places his hand on your stomach, “This kid is going to have one hell of a family.”

You place your hand over his, “Yeah, yeah they are.”

@sweetkingdomdefendor

[latenighttalkinqwp]

can we get juju x gymnast head cannons? maybe long distance bc usc has no gymnastics team

juju watkins x gymnast!gf

• with you guys being long distance, facetime calls and constant texting is the way your relationship works. long facetimes and cooking dinner is the favorite part of your guy’s day

• attending auburn for gymnastics was always your dream, and you didn’t give it up even whenever you and juju started dating. the long distance isn’t easy, but you guys make it work.

• you guys are each other’s biggest supporters. when juju has a game, you post her on your story, and hold a streaming party for her game. whenever you have a meet, she is decked out in auburn merch, watching the glitchy livestream of you.

• juju is always looking for flights to auburn whenever she can, showing up with flowers and a “GO TIGERS” shirt that she pretends to hate but secretly loves wearing. you definitely once choreographed a floor routine to a mashup of her favorite songs, and juju may or may not have cried.

• every time you guys reunite, you guys do the same things: ice cream run, matching sweatshirts, movie night with takeout, and then hours of catching up like you’ve never been apart.

- thank you so much for reading all the way through! likes and reblogs are appreciated! click here to see my masterlist.

- i miss juju 💔💔 thank u sm for this request i loveddd this. send me more requests!!

[sugardollcurse]

Oh my god, your work is so good! I would it eat if I could v(´▽｀*)

If it's not too much trouble to ask, I thought you could write something with Paul? In 1971, on his farm in Scotland, having a fun, lovely and silly time together!

Thank you, soooo much! ヽ(*´＾｀)ﾉ

𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒚

꒰ pairing ꒱ paul mccartney x reader

꒰ summary ꒱ you spend the day with paul, running wild, laughing yourselves sick, and finding honey in the rough places.

꒰ note ꒱ THANK YOU!! such a lovely request! you’re speaking my language.

The whole morning smelled like damp earth and old woodsmoke.

You woke to it, the scent of moss and rain pressing against the cottage windows, a far-off bleat of sheep, the heavy silence of a world not expecting anything of you.

You rolled over in the small bed, covers twisted around your legs, and found him there, sprawled on his stomach, face buried in the pillow, hair a tousled, sun-warm mess.

Still breathing heavy. Still dreaming, probably.

You smiled into the crook of your arm.

The world could end right now, you thought, and you wouldn’t mind.

You finally coaxed him awake with a not-so-subtle elbow to the ribs.

“Oi,” he mumbled, face still hidden. “Assault.”

“Get up. Your empire awaits.”

He cracked one bloodshot eye. Grinned, lazy and devilish. “Empire’s on strike.”

You snorted. “You’re on strike.”

“Too right,” he agreed, voice scratchy with sleep.

But eventually, after much groaning, mock-complaining, and you threatening to eat all the porridge without him, he heaved himself upright.

━━

Breakfast was clumsy.

Paul insisted on making it, which meant half the porridge ended up welded to the bottom of the pot but still tasting pretty good.

You leaned against the table, watching him stir with intense concentration, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth.

“You’re decent at this,” you said, very helpfully.

“Shut up, you love it,” he shot back, brandishing the wooden spoon like a weapon.

You did.

God help you, you loved it more than anything.

After breakfast (which somehow tasted amazing despite the catastrophe of its making), Paul tugged on his battered green wellies and declared:

“Let’s go out .”

You blinked at him over your teacup. “Where?”

He shrugged, grabbing a moth-eaten jumper off the back of a chair. “Fields. Hills. Wherever the sheep ain’t.”

“Profound,” you said.

He grinned like a schoolboy, grabbed your hand, and yanked you out the door.

━━

The fields were soggy from last night’s rain, the grass slick and bending under your boots. Somewhere far off, the hills rolled gentle and misty, stitched with stone walls and hedges like a half-forgotten quilt.

Paul splashed through a puddle deliberately, sending water up your pants.

You yelped. “Hey!”

He just laughed, wicked and bright.

“You started it!” you cried, chasing after him.

He didn’t run hard, not really. Just enough to make you work for it, dodging behind scraggly bushes, ducking under low-hanging tree branches.

You caught him near the old stone wall at the edge of the field, crashing into his side, both of you slipping and landing hard on the wet grass.

For a moment, you just lay there, panting and laughing, the cold soaking through your clothes.

Paul turned his head toward you, eyes sparkling.

“Beautiful, innit?” he said.

You looked up at the grey sky, the mist-blurred hills, the shivering trees.

“Yeah,” you said.

He smiled like you’d said something much smarter than you had.

The rest of the day passed in a lovely, muddy blur.

You helped him herd the scraggly sheep (badly).

You picked handfuls of wildflowers (half of which Paul tried to stick behind your ears, missing spectacularly).

You clambered over old stone fences, boots slipping on moss, shouting dares at each other.

At one point, Paul found a rotted tree trunk and proclaimed it “the treasure chest of the Highlands,” digging through the muck with bare hands like a child.

He unearthed… a dead snail shell, three unidentifiable rusty nails, and a cracked marble, cloudy white.

He pressed the marble into your hand with exaggerated ceremony.

“For you, m’lord.” he said, bowing so low he nearly fell over.

You snorted. “Thank you, sir.”

“Only the best for you.”

━━

Late afternoon found you sitting against a crooked fence, sharing an apple he’d swiped from the kitchen, letting the mist settle in your hair.

Paul leaned back, propped on his elbows, face tilted to the sky.

“This is it, y’know,” he said suddenly, voice soft and certain.

You looked at him. “What is?”

He cracked one eye open, found your gaze, smiled slow.

“Life.”

You didn’t answer, because what could you say?

He was right.

It wasn’t screaming crowds or flashing cameras or platinum records.

It was this.

Damp grass and apple juice sticky on your fingers and Paul McCartney smiling at you like you were the last safe thing on earth.

When it started to rain, proper rain, not just mist, you made an attempt at running back inside, laughing.

Paul tripped halfway there and grabbed you for balance, dragging you both down into the mud.

You shrieked. He howled with laughter.

You wrestled half-heartedly, slipping and sliding and ending up breathless, clutching at each other, faces inches apart.

He was grinning. Mud in his hair. A leaf stuck to his jumper.

You kissed him anyway.

That night, after you’d both warmed up, hot tea, dry clothes, two extra logs on the fire, you curled up together on the sagging couch.

Paul strummed an old battered guitar absently, making up nonsense songs about you and the farm and how you couldn’t herd sheep for shit.

You protested weakly, but your heart wasn’t in it.

You tucked your head under his chin, listening to his heartbeat rumble against your ear.

“Happy?” he asked quietly.

You smiled against his chest and nodded.

Paul chuckled, kissed the top of your head.

“Good,” he murmured. “Me too.”

taglist: @sharksausages, @wavvytin, @wimpyvamps, @finallyforgotten, @lennongirlieee, @silly-lil-lee

[m1ckeyb3rry]

MIRA WAIT HEAR ME OUT ON ROADKILL FOR LUOCHA (are you surprised?) literally just combed through that event post, also that sperm banner is sending me to the orbit TT hehe roadkill sounds like a banger i’m so excited to read the others too!! ❤︎

── WHERE PLUM FLOWERS BLOOM

Synopsis: You don't know it, but you love Luocha — or perhaps you've always known it, somehow, but it's only through the passage of time and his eventual departure that you realize just what he means to you.

HSR Masterlist

Divider: @/saradika-graphics

Pairing: Luocha x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Content Warnings: i forget if there's anything that makes this f!reader but possibly that, another nonsensical m1ckeyb3rry drop with 0 elaboration just vibes, idk anything about luocha i was just making it up #allinmyhead, mentions of blood and like. ritualistic abuse/injury (😭?) NOT TOO EXPLICIT THOUGH it's just mentioned, partially epistolary, luocha is down mf bad, in terms of characterization/worldbuilding/relationship development we have no characterization/worldbuilding/relationship development, uhm. i think that is sufficient lmk if i missed anything though

A/N: HELLO KOU and congrats on being the first request to escape development hell KSDHF thank you for sending an ask for my event!! hehe roadkill was going to be very screwy with concnurrent timelines and whatnot so instead of going for a 1:1 au thing i took that inspiration instead and made it a bit vague and whatnot 😪 i can only hope that i did not butcher your beloved...i have done my best KLSDHF

Dear Luocha,

It is strange, calling you that. To me you will always be someone else, someone with a dearer name, but if this is who you are now, then I must accept it — though I beg of you not to change anymore, lest you be unrecognizable entirely upon your return! Although, as you once said, there is a certain charm in that, in getting to know you entirely over again. Anyways, I am sure that at your heart of hearts you will always remain the same, so perhaps I should not fuss quite so much.

It is my sincerest hope that we may be reunited once more. There was much left unsaid upon our last meeting…but it is not something to be written in letters. Some discussions can only be had in person; I think this may be one such case, where the words cannot be found nor believed unless they are spoken. Though I know you always say you are ten times more eloquent on paper than aloud, so perhaps you would disagree; well, if that is what you will! But I shall keep my silence until you are before me once more.

Ever yours,

Y/N

You first met him ducked behind the marble walls of the church, standing on his tip-toes and extending his arm towards the laden boughs of a plum tree, resembling a bird on the brink of taking flight. For a moment you were still, watching as he plucked one of the riper fruits off the end of the branch, rolling it in between his fingers with an appreciative grunt, and then you took a single step towards him, crushing pink-white petals underfoot when you did.

His green eyes met yours at the instant his teeth broke the delicate skin of the plum, and panic sparked when he bit down, juice wetting his lips as he hastily chewed, swallowing that single morsel before tossing the entire fruit away and hiding his hands behind his back, bowing at you.

“My apologies,” he said. “I have been remiss. Did the teachers send you to collect me for our lessons? It isn’t a good excuse, I know, but it truly was a moment of distraction, nothing more.”

Even back then, he spoke with the cool, detached grace of a priest, though he was as lowly born as you. Unlike you, however, he had been bestowed with a divinity upon his birth, or so it seemed, and therefore at such a young age he had ascended to a status you would never reach.

You knew his name already, had heard it whispered throughout the shining capital a million times over, that pretty, delicate word which meant prince of lilies, and before you could stop yourself it was falling from your tongue. How sweet it tasted, how melancholy, and you said it again and once more for good measure, your eyes dropping to the purple stains upon his fingertips so that you could avoid his scrutiny.

“You come here to hide, right?” you said, surprising yourself with your boldness. His hands curled into fists disguised by the flowing fabric of his white robes, but you saw them, saw the way his tendons flexed momentarily, and for some reason felt entirely relieved by the fleeting display of humanity. “I won’t tell them.”

“You won’t?” he said dubiously. You shook your head. He regarded you carefully, and then he nodded, beckoning you closer. You did so at once, caught up in the lily-scented headiness of his presence, and when he dropped a plum in your hand, your fingers curled over it instinctively. “Good.”

“Good?” you said. He smiled, and you could tell based on the slowness of its dawning that it was not something he did readily nor frequently, so you were quick to return it with one of your own.

“Yes, it’s good,” he said. “Thank you…Y/N.”

It didn’t occur to you for many days that you had never told him what your name was, and by then the time for asking had long since passed, so you were left to forget the topic, except on those days when he was very close, his breath fluttering over your collarbones as you thought to yourself that there must’ve been a meaning to it all, one that you might be able to discern upon further consideration but did not yet dare to.

Dear Luocha,

Sometimes, I wonder what the weather must be like where you are. Is it sunny, or is it raining? I hope that you are in the kind of place that is in an eternal springtime, for I know you have never been fond of the cold, no matter how brave of a face you put forth. I am sure you are laughing in that way of yours — and if you are not, humor me as if you are, alright? — at such a childish notion. What sort of a place is forever caught in the time when flowers first bloom? It is unrealistic and bizarre, but I think it would make you happy, so you mustn’t blame me for imagining.

I am so frightened. In the worst of my dreams, those flowers are bullets and you are surrounded by hellfire and I do not know when I will see you again and I worry, I do worry…The baker was selling plum tarts the other day. I thought of you but did not buy one. 

Ever yours,

Y/N

He was more mischievous than he let on, more mischievous than one of such a controlled voice and refined stature ought to be. You first learned of this proclivity when skipping your afternoon lessons and sitting where the shadows of the plum tree and the church intersected went from a coincidence to a habit; he was incorrigible, really, always encouraging you to stay at his side for a minute longer, to braid ribbons and weeds into the locks of gold which were beginning to spill over his shoulders, in accordance with the holy customs of the land.

“They mean to make me one of their priests some day,” he said, lying with his head in your lap and his eyes closed. A butterfly rested on the tip of his nose, flapping its wings lazily with every breath he took. The first time such a thing had happened, you had been awed, but now you did not bat an eye, for such occurrences were common with him.

“Haven’t they always?” you said, twirling the ends of his hair around your index finger. “You were born for such a role.”

“Maybe,” he said, turmoil flashing over his face, darkening it in the way thunderclouds darkened even the loveliest of sunsets. 

“You don’t want it?” you guessed. He chuckled.

“Am I so obvious?” he said.

“Only to me,” you said. “But that comes as no surprise.”

“No,” he said. “No, I suppose it doesn’t.”

Dear Luocha,

You might tease me, but I am realizing more and more that you were the only person that mattered to me I could consider a friend. Oh, I can picture how you would snort at that now, but it really is the case. I miss you more and more with each day that passes…but I should not bore you with the trivial details of my longing!

How have you been? I haven’t received any letters from you in some time. I ask the postmaster nearly every day — I think he has your address memorized at this point! My parents are asking after you as well, though of course they call you by your other name, your true one, and they still believe you are on some great pilgrimage instead of fighting in this senseless war. Maintaining such a lie is difficult, especially to my mother, who has always been so discerning, but I have not failed you yet, and I do not plan on doing so in the future.

Ever yours,

Y/N

Watching them break his spirit was difficult, perhaps the most difficult thing you had borne unwilling witness to. You yourself had been assigned to an archival position in the church upon graduating with mediocre grades — there had never been any hopes that you would grow to be someone of note, and you had lived up to the expectations placed before you entirely and without complaint. You had no interest in being important or highly regarded, not when you saw what it did to him, not when there was still sun and summer to live for. 

A priest’s life amounted to a gilt of austerity painted over a heartwood that was rotting away from hedonism. Yet he was not like that, he was a verdant herb or a pale flower, and so he was too malleable to break, too incorruptible, ignoring their cajoling and bribery with the resolute dignity of a martyred saint. 

But of course there were other ways to convince a man, and so he would come to you in that place secluded from the world, marks littering the twin apples of his cheeks, turning them faded and blue and mottled, the sigils branded into his forehead reddening into scars that would only vanish when he complied.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he told you one day, your collar clenched in his fist, the skin over his knuckles split in shapes referring to the king of the gods. His eyes burned green and violent as they bored into yours, and droplets of blood welled in their corners, threatening to fall if he so much as blinked. “Isn’t that funny? They are remaking me in their image, and it doesn’t even hurt.”

You wanted to tell him that it hurt you, that you ached for him, every lacerating rune on his arm burning into your throat as he explained to you what each meant with the flat detachment of a professor, as if the two of you were reading from a textbook instead of the very veins that ran along the angle of his elbow. But that hardly made sense, because your skin remained unmarred and your blood unspilled, so you didn’t say anything to the effect.

“I don’t want you to be remade,” you said instead, quietly and softly. “I want you to stay the same. I want you to stay as you are.”

“I don’t have a choice,” he said, and abruptly every righteous emotion blazing within him was extinguished and he slumped forward. “No matter what I do, I will become someone different. Whether I accept my fate or run from it, I cannot remain the person you met for much longer.”

“You can,” you said weakly, and when he tucked his face against the crook of your neck, your fingers tangled in his hair of their own volition. “Please. Don’t become someone I don’t know.”

You felt more than heard him snickering, his amusement dry and sardonic. You frowned, and though he had no way of knowing, he shifted and exhaled in what you knew amounted to an apology.

“If I ever become someone you don’t know, I’ll reintroduce myself to you, and you can meet me again,” he murmured. “I might be twisted and bent and wrong in some places, but whatever is left of me, you can learn at your leisure. Is that some consolation?”

“As long as you promise you will come back to me,” you said.

“No one can change me enough not to,” he said. “Not the church and not the world.”

Dear Luocha,

Dozen eggs

Bag of flour

Fruit (which is in season?)

Yarn (sweater needs mending, check color)

My apologies, I have used this letter as a bit of a shopping list. I hope you do not mind it; I don’t have anything more interesting to say, so it’s for the best, anyways. If you are reading this, please write back with any suggestions you might have for my next trip to the market.

Ever yours,

Y/N

He kissed you only once, the day after they scrawled incantations over his heart and told him it was theirs now. Your back was to the plum tree, his hand cradling the nape of your neck so that it received the brunt of the bark’s ire in lieu of the slivers of skin exposed by your uniform. He loomed over you, surprisingly intimidating, wearing a halo of afternoon sun and a cloak of autumn wind, nigh-seraphic in both stature and countenance.

His free hand guided yours to cover the place where the verses came to a full stop before he moved his lips against your own, and it was strange, for you had always imagined him to taste sweet like the fruit he preferred, but it was salt and bruise and gunmetal that invaded your mouth like a foreign entity, tracing along your tongue and heaving, panting, desperate and unsure.

Only when he drew back did you pull your hand from his chest, catching your breath while he did the same. Your palm came away bloody, the red shimmering with a preternatural, blessed power, and before you could stop it, your eyes widened in horror. 

You wiped it off on the grass in a hurry, and neither of you spoke of the day again.

Dear Luocha,

They say the war will be over soon. Is that true? Does that mean you will be home soon? I have heard many details of your exploits, which is the only reason I am not more worried than I already am. They speak of a swan-warrior with a silver sword and eyes like cold gemstones, who fights with the grace of a bird and the delicacy of a blossom. It is you, I am sure of it, though no one else would ever consider such a thing. The next High Priest, vanished to study the ways of the blade…after everything they did to carve you in their image, it would be akin to spitting in their faces. They still think you are absorbed in meditation at the sunken temples; how foolish they are, how naive, how certain of themselves and their powers. 

All of them walk around with such swagger and pride, so assured that they managed to turn even you into one of their meek little sheep. It is all I can do to fight back a smile, for I alone know that you have flown far from this place, and whatever becomes of you now, it will be your own choice, not theirs. 

Ever yours,

Y/N

There was no moon in the sky on the day he left the city. His irises reflected the torchlight as he told you in hushed tones that he meant to change his name and join the army, to fight against the invading armies that infested your borders like swarming insects.

“Why?” you said. “Since when have you been a patriot?”

“I have no particular love for our nation,” he said. “But the idea of freedom, of suffering, even of death…I am so fascinated by it. These things that our professors and priests hid from us all our lives, I want to experience them, I want to imbue their essences into my being so thoroughly that I cannot unknow them no matter how hard I try.”

“I see. But what will the elders think? They won’t let you go without a fight, you must know that,” you said. When he was like this, there was no point in arguing. So rarely was he stubborn that on those few occasions he was, it was a proper and impossible obstacle to overcome; you had long ago learnt that there was no sense in even attempting. The only recourse was logical and careful consideration of his argument — for this was another thing, too, there was always a reasoning to it all, and usually said reasoning was flawless in the way of a knifepoint, inevitably swaying you to his side.

“I’ve already left them a letter saying that I was called to the sunken temples to meditate on the future of this war. They will be delighted that I have finally allowed the whispers of the divine to take shape in my mind, so they won’t question it in the slightest,” he said promptly, and when, as usual, you could not find fault in it, you sighed, squeezing your eyes closed so you didn’t have to look at him.

“You will be careful, won’t you?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “And I’ll write to you as often as I can.”

“Every day?” you said.

“If the postmaster permits,” he said. “Though I’ll have to change my name; mine is too distinctive at present. I’ll make sure it’s something you recognize, though.”

“Okay,” you said, a sorry, pathetic lump forming in your throat. “Okay,  as long as — as long as I know it’s you.”

“Would you forget me that easily?” he said. You shook your head, immediately and furiously, and this prompted a gentle hum from him. “Don’t mourn me while I still walk this earth; save your sorrow for when I am departed.”

“Okay,” you said again, because if you said anything further, you were afraid you would not be able to maintain your cool facade, and if that happened then you would be lost entirely, a fumbling, feeble child in the dark of the night.

There was a silence, and then the silk of his gloves brushed against your cheek. You bit your tongue and tried to think only of the patterns bursting behind your eyelids — spiderwebs, cracks in cobblestone, the thin arteries of leaves, anything but him and how tenderly he lingered even as the window for his chance at fleeing grew narrower and narrower.

“You won’t open your eyes?” he said. You shook your head wordlessly, slowly at first but then faster, faster, and it took every bit of strength you had not to chase after his wrist and cling to it when he moved back. “If that is what you want. Farewell, Y/N.”

“Farewell,” you stammered out. There was something else begging to be said, both of you knew it, but neither of you had that bravery, that wherewithal, and so it could only hang in between you both, nearly tangible in its weight yet refusing to properly coalesce for good. “Don’t leave me for too long.”

Don’t leave me at all.

Only when his footsteps grew faint did you open your eyes, and only when you were sure he would not turn around did you allow your lower lip to tremble unchecked. As the white tails of his coat vanished from your view, you began to weep, and you hated yourself for it, but you could not stop yourself from wrapping your arms around your torso and rocking yourself, wondering who he would be if you ever had the chance to see him again, wondering if you had squandered your last glimpse at the man you — at the man you —

Dear Luocha,

The longer you are gone, the harder it is for me to remember the person I met in the shade of that plum tree. The exact shade of your eyes…the way you smiled…the scent of your clothes after you washed them…day by day, you become more ‘Luocha’ and less the man I grew up with. When I think of you now, it is in abstract images, in the click of the typewriter and the sting of a papercut. I miss you and I do not even know what, exactly, it is that I miss.

Supposedly the war is over and those who fought will come home soon. It has been some time since I last heard from you, and even longer since you wished me farewell on the street that night; the rest of the world has kept moving, but I alone remain frozen in place. My parents think I should wed soon, for I am nearing the age for such things, and maybe they would be right in calling me unreasonable for refusing — however, they do not know the truth which I have steadfastly kept from you thus far but cannot fathom hiding any longer: I love you. Isn’t that such a stereotypical thing? Go on, then. Laugh all you want, but I do. I love you, and I regret that I never told you, that I only realized when it was too late to do anything about it but bawl to myself in a most sniveling, unbecoming way.

Come back. Allow me to cry and tell you these things and humiliate myself entirely; let me learn you again at my leisure, as you once promised I could; tell me who you are now, if you are Luocha or someone else entirely; hate me or love me in return, whichever you please. But come back.

Ever yours,

Y/N

Dear Y/N,

Eloquence is my Well, I have always You don’t I am trying, but the words How have you stolen this from me? I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.will be home soon. 

Ever yours,

Luocha A person who will always come back to you