#the way one does when a song is running around their brain

[writinginthesecrettrees]

Sammy gets songs stuck in his head. The only problem is these songs don’t exist.

Years pass, and suddenly that one song he wouldn’t stop singing, annoying the crap out of Dean and Dad in his 11-year-old soprano, is everywhere on the radio.

[evieelyzabethh]

"glue song"

✭"don't forget to kiss me or else you'll have to miss me"✭ ~ How Arcane characters show affection headcannons {fem reader}

cast ✧ Vi, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

cw ☞slightly pervy jayce (you can't pry him from my cold dead hands), fluff

♞Vi♞

♞Vi kisses like she is starving, and you are the first morsel of food she can get her hands on. Like she is drowning, and you are her first breath of air. It's not just desperate and hungry, but there's also a thankfulness to it. Thank you for sticking with her, thank you for being so patient with her, thank you for loving her. Vi doesn't do anything half-assedly, especially not kissing her pretty girlfriend. It's probably her favorite form of affection because it's so versatile. It doesn't have to lead to the bed if neither of you want it to, sometimes it's just on the couch, you sat in between her large thighs, positively falling into her.

♞Her favorite place to kiss you would be on your lips as she holds you chin in her rough hands. She would kiss you thoroughly and deeply, her tongue languidly kissing your own without a rush or care in the world. She is quite prone to getting overwhelmed herself, squeezing the air from both of your lungs and having the nerve to pout at you when you pull away. On her messier days, she leaves a string of spit behind, but she's always kind enough to wipe it away with a few swipes of her thumb. With every inch you pull back she leans in a mile more, chasing you as you try to catch your breath and when she does pin you down, she holds you impossibly close so you can't escape again until she's had her fill. Even then, she holds you in her large arms and tangles your limbs together, at one point sliding her hand beneath your shirt just to lay it on your tummy and feel it move as you breath.

♞Vi is also secretly a space heater. She runs incredibly hot and because of this, sleeps naked and is always down to give you her jacket. It just makes sense in her mind, seeing her clothing wrapped around you. She likes sharing most things; oddly specifically, drinks. She's gross and thinks it's hot that you're technically swapping spit. When it comes to alcohol, especially if you're not a big drinker, both of you will nurse off the same drink, her tipping your head back and pouring it into your mouth when you get a bit too tipsy to do so yourself without spilling.

♞Her go to pet name is 'pretty' and I will die on this hill. It's the thing that defines you for her. She's an idiot and a loser and she knows there's more to you than just how you look, but she just can't help it that whenever she sees you, all her reptile brain can think is 'pretty'. She absolutely abuses it, too. Besides this, I also think she would use those sleazy kinda bar pet names, like sweets or babydoll. Not in a creepy sleazy way, but that is just realistically what she would've been hearing for terms of endearment.

♞Slight side tangent, in a modern AU she is definitely one of those mascs that gets a hold to some Calvin Klein boxers and takes advantage of every opportunity possible to show the waistband off. Part of it is just her showing affection, even if you can reach tall shelves on your own, she still insists on getting the items for you. This carriers over into many things, like twisting open pickle jars or opening your soda cans if you're someone into longer nails. While she isn't as good with building things as Jinx, I think she would definitely be able to manage putting together the furniture in your shared home. Would it take all day? Well, yes! But you chose to make the best out of it and fuck on top of the furniture to test its sturdiness and congratulate your girlfriend on a job well done.

♞On the topic of nails in a modern AU, she would love a partner who gets them done absolutely goes feral if you get them customized to her liking, like coloring them after her eyes or hair or sneaking her name in there somewhere. She feels like she's made it in life when she can pay to get them done. It seems like a selfless action, but it would be a lie to say she gets nothing out of it. The scratch mark you leave on her back after break her brain a little.

★Ekko★

★Ekko loves cooking for his girlfriend! I feel like that would definitely be his main love language along with quality time. As stated before, you two would spend a lot of time in his kitchen, often times with some source of music providing a background noise to the nonsense that you concoct together, occasionally slow dancing while there's time to kill while waiting for something to finish in the oven. Food fights may occasionally occur, but he does a thorough job of licking you clean after. He claims he 'can't let good food go to waste'.

★He would also have a sketchbook absolutely full of you. You can tell when a new edition is about to be added as well. Ekko isn't loud, but he isn't quiet either. His foot is always tapping, he's usually humming something, he always has something to keep his hands busy. He's hardly ever still, except for those moments when you fully wash over him. Sometimes the lighting is exceptionally beautiful, sometimes it's in appreciation of how the wind moves the world around you, and some moments are just so breathtaking beautiful he has to take a moment to go silent, still, and stare. Sometimes he'll just tell you to be in his presence and be pretty so he can properly commit you to paint and commemorate you forever in oils and brush strokes. He's not above nude paintings, though those strokes look and feel much different.

★Ekko is the CEO of quick kisses. He's a busy guy!! He's running an entire commune. He makes the absolute most out of moments when you have the world to yourselves, but most of what you receive are quick passing kisses on your cheeks or the corner of your mouth. He misses on purpose because he simply does not believe in starting things he doesn't have the time to finish. For this reason, I don't think he'd be a big quickie guy. A kiss can easily just be a kiss, but sex is not something meant to be done in 5 minutes.

★Ekko's favorite place to kiss you would also be your lips. He's a romantic, what can I say!!! At the end of every day, you ask each other how your day was after you've both showered and gotten comfy. You both sit on his bed, set beside each other, your legs haphazardly laid over his as he casually massages your thigh. Sometimes you're both a bit too tired and aren't listening that hard, the occasional tidbit catching your attention making either of you sit straight and get closer until eventually you laid on top of him, both of you half asleep. No matter how much energy either of you has, a good night kiss is to be had. When Ekko doesn't need to be quick, he is impossibly slow. He has all the time and then some.

★Not only does he demand a good night kiss, but a good morning kiss to. He gets pouty without it. And sassy. He tells Scar, very loudly so that everyone can hear him, that you hate and don't love him anymore and he is just so deeply hurt that you would let your boyfriend, you're one true love, leave the house without kissing him goodbye and doesn't shut up about it until he gets his goddamn kiss.

★He loves picking out your outfits. He prides himself on the way he dresses and out of everyone, I think Ekko has the most domestic skills. I've already discussed how well he cooks, but I wouldn't be surprised if he also knew his way around a needle and thread. He is not just wearing any clothes; he has a sense of style that he is very proud of. This being said, he loves going shopping with you in a modern AU and he loves when you eventually get comfortable enough to not retreat into the bathroom when changing from outfit to outfit. He's the one making you do the little spin so he can appreciate the outfit from all angles.

★As far as pet names go, I think Ekko would keep it simple with "babe" or "baby" for more casual usages. I also think he would be fond of "my girl" and expects it from you in return because yes he is "your boy" and yes you are "his girl" and yes he loves you very very much. He wouldn't be a stranger to "my love", especially in the mornings or at night when your face is the first and last thing he sees when he closes his eyes. It makes him feel extra sappy.

❂Jayce❂

❂He is all over you at all times of the day omg. I feel like of everyone, Jayce would be the clingiest. This isn't to say he's attached to you at the hip, but his favorite part of the day is getting to go home to you. You're cooking and there he is sitting on the counter yapping about Hextech or something. You're taking a shower and he wants to join. And it's not just a proximity thing, it's also a touchy thing. Any reason or way he can find to touch you, he is taking it. He doesn't care if it's pathetic, dammit, he wants to be held.

❂Jayce would absolutely thrive in a modern AU. He would be the guy whose social media page are all posts about his girlfriend and does he just love to show you off. He would spoil you so good, but rather than buying anything you wanted like Mel would, I think he would also really enjoy making you presents. This isn't to say he doesn't enjoy buying you things, one of your staple pieces of jewelry is the gold anklet he bought with his initials on it.

❂Physical touch is easily his love language but he cannot handle all that, or rather, he freezes in situations where you initiate it. His hands tend to naturally find your waist and will occasionally, if he's feeling bold enough, slip down to your ass, but one time when it was freezing out, you offered your tits as handwarmers and he got a nosebleed. Jayce is definitely an undercover perv but due to never having a girlfriend before and being completely foreign with the concept that he doesn't need to hide how badly he wants to jump your bones at nearly all hours of the day, he freezes when it comes to you initiating contact.

❂He would definitely be the type to get you teddy bears and flowers just whenever. It's never with any rhyme or reason and it happens rather sporadically, just when he is out and about for any reason and thinks of you and wants to bring you something home. He thinks of you a lot, actually. Mel and Viktor love the both of you, but sometimes he goes a bit overboard when it comes to talking about you. This being said, he jumps at any opportunity to show you off. He loves going to gala's because he likes seeing you in pretty clothes and hanging off his arm. He also likes kissing you in public, even if no one's paying attention. He is well versed in the art of delayed gratification and loves getting the both of you riled up knowing full well he does not have the balls to actually fuck you with people around (he gets loud and is very well aware of this)

❂ Jayce's absolute favorite place to kiss you is your neck. He usually starts with your lips, large hands cupping your cheeks and soft lips moving over yours until he gets more antsy. His hands travel from your cheek to your neck then begin to creep under your clothes to grab and knead at your warm skin. Then he would move down your face, peppering kisses across your lips, down your jaw, then down you neck, panting as he goes along and his hands getting rougher as he tries to remain composed. He stops there for a moment, breath fanning over skin that is now slightly red from his canines nipping you and his fresh stubble scratching the area, reminding himself to be gentle and not take more than he's given. He pleads with you, his own cheeks flushed from the heat of the movement as he mutters out his "please...". He's begged you time and time again to not make him verbalize exactly what he wants, but you are relentless. At least he has the manners to ask sweetly beforehand.

❂He is the type to lay right on top of you. After you've gotten comfy in your bed, thrown on your pajama's, maybe are doing a bit of light reading before bed, he comes around to disturb your peace and lay himself right on top of you, smothering you with kisses while he lays there. He eventually moves out of his starfish position to lay his head on your chest and wrap his arms around your torse. He's like a giant, weighted, warm teddy bear

❂One of his go-to pet names would be 'baby', but only when it just the two of you. He is also quite fond of 'gorgeous' and he always has a stupid smirk on his face when he says it. His favorite would be 'sweetheart'. Slightly off topic, he would be the first to jump the gun and start calling you his wife. Especially to council members that are annoying him and taking up time he'd rather be spending with you, he is very quick to pull a "Sorry, gotta get home to my wife." He bought to matching rings for your one-year anniversary to sell the story better.

☽Viktor☾

☽As far as physical affection goes, I think he would be the least touchy. I think the touches would be concentrated on your face, lazily tracing all of your features, marking where your cheeks sink below your cheek bones, the divot between your chin and lips, and where your face is most pronounced. While he wouldn't call himself an artist, he could probably mold your face in clay from the number of times his feather light fingers have caressed every inch of it. He's utterly entranced by it. His mind often wanders while listening to you speak, eyes roaming from your lips and taking note of them in proportion to your eyes, getting lost in the color of them until his eyes flit to your nose and the way your nostrils slightly flare out. It's very mechanical, but that's just the way his brain works.

☽Less of a hugger but he does like to keep his arms around you. Especially on date nights when you're cuddled up on your couch, a myriad of snacks in between the two of you, your head resting on his shoulder while he tries to hide his snores as he falls in and out of consciousness. You accuse of him trying to go to sleep and he tells you he was just "resting his eyes".

☽He would make you all the trinkets in the world. Many of them start as failed experiments of his or scraps from projects past that need to be repurposed, but the thought is always there. He hates to waste and there's really no need to when he has a girlfriend he can make gifts for. Your vanity is full of pretty side projects, decorative boxes for your makeup, ornate music boxes, tea sets and tiny figurines. Your desk would be full of special tchotchkes.

☽Speaking of tchotchkes, I think that would be one of his playful nicknames for you. It sounds absolutely delectable in his accent. I think he would also go for the classier terms of endearment such as 'dear', 'love', 'darling' as well as variations of them in his mother tongue. He would love teaching you his native language, both as a way to bond even more but also to make sure he never loses it.

☽He would also be big on compliments. He is probably your number one supporter, but not in the loud sports fan with a huge foam finger kinda way, but in a quieter more personal way. He is extremely confident in you and your abilities as well as being endlessly proud of everything you do. He is in complete awe of you, and he tells you as such. It is impossible to feel bad about yourself in his presence, he keeps a mental rolodex of every accomplishment of yours to combat any sort of negative self-talk.

☽Not a big PDA guy. He would rather throw himself out of a window than suck face with you in Jayce's presence. He is a big hand-holder which is disastrous when doing it while walking around because neither one of you can walk straight to save your life. It's not even an issue with his leg because you do it too. You bump into each other all the time, though in the winter it is more often on purpose to keep warm.

☽Viktor's favorite place to kiss you is on your forehead. It's simple and it's sweet and more often than not what he can get away with the most. With how much time he spends in the lab, he has grown to deeply appreciate those quiet moments with you, holding your hand under the table as he works in the low light, papers rustling as he tries to find the specific formula he's looking for. Jayce is across the table, snoring loud enough to keep the both of you awake. You look like you want to kiss him, he can feel your gaze on his lips as your fingers tangle through his hair and he turns to you and gives you a small smile then a sweet kiss on your forehead. When he pulls away, he leans into you and you sit there for a moment, nose to nose. "Just a few moments, love, I'm almost done." You giggle through tiredness. "It won't be a few moments, Vik." And he appreciates your understanding more than most things in the world. "No, it won't. But I'll try to make it quick.", he promises and then plants another kiss on you

☽He really likes reading with you, or just doing activities that allow the both of you to be doing something together without necessarily needing to talk. It doesn't even have to be something he's good at, it could be a painting session, or a pottery lesson, and he would be down. He would also be the type to try and pick up on your hobbies. You like to crochet; he's also picking up a crochet needle to try and work alongside you. And he's not too proud to ask for help, he likes a relationship where both parties are constantly learning and exploring.

☼Mel☼

☼Mel is definitely the type to spoil you. She has so much money and is not afraid to use it. You really like that dress you saw while window shopping? She's already ordered it to be tailored to your exact size. You like that bracelet? You wake up to it in a box on your nightstand the next morning and spot her wearing a matching piece later on that day. It's not to try and buy your love, she just thinks you deserve the world, and if she could buy it, it would be your wedding present.

☼Mel love holding hands at all times and specifically is the type to rub the skin between your pointer finger and thumb. Her skin would also be so soft, touching her feels like touching smooth velvet. She also likes to kiss your knuckles and the inside of your wrist before letting go, the mark her lipstick feeling like a heavy imprint of her lips.

☼She is also very fond of kissing your nose. She thinks 'booping' you with her finger is childish, but she is not above a little peck on the nose, which is the abridged version of her usual ritual of pecking your forehead, nose, and lips. Those kisses are usually taken in the morning when you go your separate ways for the day, particularly those that she knows will be long and tedious. She likes to think she takes part of you with her when she does it. She misses your intellect, she misses the silent indicators of your presence, she misses how you feel. Some days, she greatly yearns to return to you. She feels like a physical weight is lifted off her back and she can actually breathe.

☼She loves spending wash days with you. Those locs take hours and you are there right by her side, gossiping and discussing everything and nothing while royal hairdressers take down or retwist that beautiful head of hair. It's even better if you're the one doing it for her. She likes the feeling of your fingers in her scalp, massaging out the wrinkles in her brain as she goes boneless in between your legs. I, unfortunately, do not think she could return the favor. She is like basically royalty; her whole life someone was likely doing it for her. She would try and learn!! It would just take a little bit.

☼I do think she would be very good at doing your makeup. She has the base routine DOWN and usually likes to do simpler eye looks, though she can do whatever you request of her. All hell breaks loose when it comes time to do lips, and her gloss would end up all over your face as she is overcome with the unabating urge to leave glossy kiss marks all over your face . You would return the favor, whatever pigmented shade you previously wore landing all over her flawless skin, and she would savor the moment with a photo she keeps in her journal

☼In a modern AU, I think she would be really good at carnival games. I can't explain it, she just would. She's not the biggest fan carnivals and fairs as they're a bit too loud and crowded for her taste, but if you wanted to go, she certainly would never say no to you. While I think Vi would try very hard to beat them only to fail, Mel would be unexplainably good at them and win you tons of prizes.

☼Mel carries a purse on her at all times and has absolutely everything in there. Pads, tampons, ibuprofen, lip gloss, hand sanitizer, wet wipes, anything you could possibly need is in that bag of hers. She also carries the big bag so you only have to carry around outfit purses than can barely handle a handful of coins. She also loves matching outfits with you!!! You probably own so many matching outfits, matching pjs, matching workout sets, as well as multiple items of clothing that are the exact same except for sizing.

☼She would be another one who constantly talks about her partner, albeit, in a much smoother way than Jayce does. Jayce jumps at every opportunity to bring you up in conversation, it's always flows naturally with Mel but she also brags far more. It's always, "That's great but my girlfriend..." or finding ways to talk about big accomplishments knowing damn well no one else can compete. See her girlfriend has a doctorate, or her girlfriend won this prestigious award, or her girlfriend was the first to do this...what were you saying about your wife though???

☼As for pet names, I think Mel would be another person who uses "my love" or "my dear" but I also think she'd be the type to refer to you as "princess". Once again, coming from royalty, she treats you as such, and that also comes down to how she refers to you. She also just likes calling you by name, usually in her sappier moments followed by her last name She can't get enough of the way it sounds rolling off her tongue and the two of you together just sounds perfect.

[kitten4sannie]

sleepover

pairing: perverted bsf! wooyoung x fem! reader feat. a comatose mingi (he’s asleep on the bed lmao…or is he…)

summary: wooyoung is more than willing to hold you when you’re afraid during your horror movie marathon, and even more willing to help distract you like a good friend does.

wc: 1.4k

warnings: perverted dom! wooyoung, subby innocent! reader, bro is convincing and manipulative okay, cnc/dubcon-ish vibes (if that’s not your thing feel free to skip!!), coercion/corruption, exhibitionism (all of the following is done right next to mingi), brief kissing, groping, fingering, initial orgasm denial,, tit play + spit, rough unprotected sex, creampie, this is a wild one idkidkkkkk

a/n: wooyo has been haunting my brain lately so i had no choice but to write this >~< i hope you enjoy <33 alsoo i’ll be posting one more corruption themed fic very soon that feats frat boy san and minyunhwa~

song rec: if you think i’m pretty - artemas

“I told you not to put this movie on, Woo. It’s way too scary,” you complained whinily into your best friend’s shoulder, shielding your eyes from the suspenseful scene playing out on the laptop sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Mingi was the one who wanted to watch it, you know,” Wooyoung chided, causally wrapping his arm around your shoulders, rubbing your bare arm up and down in a comforting manner.

“Well, Mingi’s passed out.” Pouting, you pointed to your other friend that was curled up underneath the comforter beside you, his eyes shut. “He’s not even watching, so what’s the point?”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t be a pussy.” His cold fingers made their way down to your waist to squeeze at it, making you jump from the sudden contact. “Oh, I see….Do you think the monster’s gonna get ya?”

“Shut up, Wooyoung!” you whisper-shouted, as to not wake up Mingi. You pushed on his chest, feeling his heart beat quickly against your hand. Was it racing like yours was? And, when did he get so close to you? His hand was already running up and down the bare skin of your thigh, causing your thin shorts to ride up more and more, but you didn’t have the nerve to confront him about it. Your pout grew. “I’m really scared, okay?”

“Oh, you poor baby,” Wooyoung cooed softly into your ear, his words laced with faux pity, his sharpened gaze focused solely on your blushing face. “Do you want me to help you, Y/N? Distract you from the scary movie?”

“Y-yes, please…”

You didn’t know what you were getting into, but you trusted that Wooyoung had your best interest in mind. It was then that he gently coaxed you further into his arms, lying comfortably against him as you faced the laptop screen once again. Goosebumps began to spread across your limbs from underneath the warm comforter, but it wasn’t from the frightening movie — it was from Wooyoung’s hand slipping underneath your shorts, his slender fingers rubbing at your pulsing cunt through your panties.

“W-Wooyoung…” you croaked weakly, your face and body growing so hot, you could pass out. Friends didn’t do this sort of thing, did they?

“Shhhh, baby, just look at the screen…yeah, just like that…” he sighed softly, his warm breath fanning over your neck, now concentrating on the way your tank top clung to your softness of your tits, how your nipples grew hard enough to poke through the thin material, groaning when he found your clit through your panties, rubbing at it in slow, small circles.

“B-but we’re friends, Woo…” You made a sad attempt at pushing his hand away, the moral debate you were having internally slowly fizzling away the longer Wooyoung touched you.

“Isn’t this what friends are for?” Wooyoung persisted, pulling your panties to the side just in time for his fingers to dip in between your soaked folds. “And, fuck, you’re so wet right now, Y/N. It feels good, doesn’t it? What’s so wrong with that, baby?”

“But, nnngh…Mingi’s right next to us…” You began to melt into Wooyoung’s arms and the soft mattress below you, unable to resist spreading your legs out for him, your thigh even resting against Mingi’s, not noticing when it shifted just as two of Wooyoung’s digits slipped inside you.

Licking at his lips, Wooyoung then pressed them onto your cheek, egging you on in a low voice, “Then, tell me to stop, baby.” He began to fuck his fingers into you at a fast pace, your walls clenching around them. “Right now. Say it.” Now, he was relentlessly rubbing his thumb into your clit with his free hand, still working your cunt, hooking his digits against the spot that made you spasm, your body growing warmer and heavier. When you pouted up at him and whined, he simply mirrored your helpless expression. “What’s the matter, baby? Hm?”

“Oh– fuck, right there…” you moaned out, not even attempting to look at the laptop screen in front of you, instead solely focused on your best friend beside you, so desperate to cum, you began to roll your hips down every time his fingers plunged into you.

“Yeah? You’re feeling really good now, aren’t you, Y/N? Now that you’re nice and full? Just look at you, baby…You can’t help but fuck yourself dumb on my fingers, huh?” Wooyoung looked like the monster from the movie now, eyes full of hunger, like he was ready to eat you up.

“Uh-huh, uh-huhhh…” Just as your sounds of pleasure began to crescendo, your mind growing cloudier by the second, pulling at the sheets below you because you were right there, Wooyoung ceased his movement completely, leaving you high and dry. “No, please, don’t stop, please…!”

Wooyoung gave you a look of indifference, much like a cat that suddenly wasn’t interested in playtime anymore. “Show me your tits. Maybe then I’ll make you cum.”

Desperate for your best friend’s attention and touch, you slowly rolled your tank top up until your tits spilled out, tears pricking at your eyes. How did you get here? Why did Wooyoung’s deliciously dark gaze successfully distract you from the paralyzing shame you felt? Or is that what made you wet? The way you were slutting yourself out for your best friend while the other was sleeping right next to you? “Please make me cum, Y-Youngie…”

“Fuck, you’re so cute, come here.” Now, Wooyoung was on top of you, leaving as much of his saliva on your tits as possible, squeezing one when he was noisily sucking on the other, his dilated eyes never leaving your teary ones. “Can I fuck you, Y/N? I’ll make you cum, I promise…I need to be inside you, baby, please, you’re so fucking hot…” Desperate for release, Wooyoung lowered his sweatpants until his heavy cock dropped onto your bare cunt, rubbing himself along it, making your mind grow that much more empty. “Just the tip, okay? That’s okay, yeah?”

Before you knew it, you were nodding, and just like that, he was inside you, your best friend, using you like a cocksleeve. Wooyoung was ramming his cock into your cunt like he was trying to knock you up. “That’s a good slut, fuckkk, taking me so well…” You tried to moan, to speak, to say anything, but you couldn’t, not with the way his tongue suddenly went down your throat.

All you could do was cling onto Wooyoung, your nails digging into his skin when it felt like the tip of his cock was pounding into your cervix, almost growing dizzy. When you heard your best friend groaning about how he was getting ready to fuck you full of his cum, you gasped, unable to talk, short, broken moans being punched out of you each time Wooyoung slammed himself into you, your thighs hooking around his waist once his hot load began to pour into you. It was then that you turned your head just in time to realize Mingi was watching you intently, his plush lips parted just enough to let drool slip past, catching onto the way that something was moving rapidly underneath the comforter somewhere near his abdomen.

“Told you she would put out, didn’t I, Min?” Wooyoung mused smugly, fucking you through the orgasm that tore through your used body, using your bruised hips like handlebars as he did so.

“You were so right, Woo, so, so right,” Mingi sighed out, tossing his head back into the pillow behind him, leaving a few watery cumshots on the inside of your comforter and his hand.

You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or to cum again, instead just trying to catch your breath, hiding your face underneath one of your wrists, at least until Wooyoung pulled it down and made you look at the both of them.

“You’ll let Mingi have a turn, won’t you, Y/N? It’s only fair, right?”

Mingi nodded in agreement, before leaning in, licking across his teeth. “Having my cock inside your little used cunt next will make another good ‘distraction’, don’t you think?”

Even though the credits were rolling on the laptop behind them, the monsters hadn’t left. They were right there in front of you, waiting for your permission to ravage you. You couldn’t help but nod. They were your best friends, after all.

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[reidgenius]

Low Pain Tolerance | S.R. x Reader

image by reidgif <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Word Count: 1.4k Category: angst, hurt/comfort? Warnings: commitment issues, wildly insecure!reader (it's really just me) A/N: I haven't written for Spencer before, so please excuse any OOC inaccuracies and be nice okay! I am a long-time lurker/admirer of the lovely @pathologicalreid and am writing this for her cutesy margovember event :) Song Inspo: Low Pain Tolerance by Abby Holliday

You never enjoyed running.

Still, that didn't stop you from doing it often. Whether it be on the job or in a relationship, you ran.

To catch a bad guy. To catch yourself before you fall. To stop something terrible before it happens... You ran.

In this instance, you found yourself running from Spencer Reid.

"Would you look at me? Please?" he pleaded.

You knew if you were to turn around that you'd see his glassy doe eyes and be drawn right back in. You knew your weaknesses, and he was certainly one of them. The biggest one. That's why you stayed put, staring at his bedroom wall.

"I can't, Spence." You meant to say it with finality, but it came out more as a whimper.

"You can't look at me, or you can't-"

"Neither. Both."

As the holidays approached, Spencer had mentioned the idea of the two of you making a trip out to Vegas. "Just for a day or two," he'd promised. Though there wasn't much he treasured about home, you knew that his mother was there, and that was more than reason enough.

This evening, he'd brought it up again after letting you avoid the topic for weeks.

"It's only a matter of time before you figure it out," you admit.

"Figure what out?"

"God, Spence, that I'm only bringing you down!" you nearly shouted, though you hadn't meant to. The anxiety took over. "I'm like... gahhh! I don't know how to do any of this, I-"

To your dismay, he let out a laugh as you finally turned to face him. A real, genuine laugh.

"Bringing me down?" He looked at you with an earnest amusement. "Honey, I don't think you realize what you-"

"I'm scared. Okay? Is that what you wanted me to admit? That I'm scared of meeting her?" A single tear gushed down your cheek.

His brows knit in concern as he quickly thought of ways to disprove the common fears surrounding schizophrenia and it's manifestations.

"Baby, schizophrenia doesn't ma-"

"Dammit Spencer, it's not about that! It's- I..."

You found yourself stumbling over your words.

"I don't care about her diagnoses!" you laughed. (Of course, you did care, but that wasn't what was scaring you.) "I'm scared of this!" you said, waving your hands between the two of you. "I don't want to rush it. I don't want to get her hopes up..."

You let your legs give way to sit on the floor against the wall, your head in your hands, mumbling to the cold hardwood.

"I don't want to get my hopes up."

There was it. That was the truth.

You weren't used to it. You weren't used to someone asking you how your day was and really caring. You weren't used to the notion that a man would want to wrap himself around you at night and keep you close. You'd never been one to draw much attention from men. Or women. Or anyone, really.

Naturally, you figured that there must be something deeply and inherently flawed in you. Something Spencer had yet to discover.

So, being with him was... terrifying. You were constantly waiting and wondering when he'd conclude that you weren't as pretty as he initially thought, or as witty, or as intelligent, or kind, or...

And it would only be cruel to drag Diana into this. To have her think that perhaps her son had found his person. To have her thinking that she might be meeting her future daughter-in-law. It felt cruel to yourself, in some twisted way, to pretend that this was all going to last.

Spencer was typically a fast thinker, but your admission had the cogs in his brain working overtime. You were afraid of him? Of your relationship?

He padded over to join you on the floor, keeping a little distance so as not to scare you.

"Get your hopes up? You don't-" he gulped, "I mean... you don't think we're gonna- that this is gonna work out?"

Still speaking to the floor, you sigh, "I don't know, Spence."

You were exhausted. Incessantly feeling like you're on the brink of being "found out" can do that to a person. It's not that Spencer hadn't done all the right things. No, he was the perfect partner. But therein lied the issue. He was perfect. And, in your opinion, you were far, far from it.

You took a deep breath through your tears.

"I don't think I can keep doing this."

Confusion. Utter shock. Things had been going so well with you the past 8 months. Spencer immediately began to wrack his brain combing through all the possible mistakes he could've made. Did he raise his voice with you? Had he forgotten some big milestone? Was he not giving you enough?

"Honey I-" he gathered himself, placing a hand on your thigh, "I'm so sorry. Can I ask... what makes you say all this?"

Though you were reluctant, you figured that now was as good a time as any.

"Spencer. I am not good for you! Good enough for you!" With each point, you illustrated by raising a finger, "I am impulsive and I complain and I get weird sometimes when you touch me and I can be a massive bitch and I never know how to-"

"Woah, woah, woah-" He snuck up closer to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and placing his head atop yours, all while you kept rambling. "Why in the world do you say that? Not good enough for me? If anything it's me who isn't deserving of you..."

"No, you-"

He stopped you in your tracks just by saying your name in that beautiful way he does. Like its covered in honey and dripping with admiration.

"You are everything. You may think those things about yourself but I certainly don't." His thumb caressed your bare skin so carefully as he continued, speaking slowly so as to allow the words to really sink in. "You are the most generous person I've ever encountered. You care so deeply about people you love. You are courageous and willing to try all the weird foods I suggest even though you really don't want to." He smirked a bit at that one. "You have taken everything that life has thrown at you and navigated it with grace. You really are just... you're it. You're her. You're the girl - the woman - I've always hoped would come my way but never dreamed actually would. Honey, I've figured out everything I need to know when it comes to how I feel about you."

You sat there, warm under his embrace, pondering his words as he spoke. It's nothing he hasn't said before, granted, in much less grand and emotionally charged ways. But it was like you were really hearing it for the first time. You wanted so badly to believe him.

"I love you," he continued. "I love you so much that sometimes I am afraid of myself. Of what I'd do for you. You, god, you make me so much better."

"I love you, too. Too much," you squeaked out.

"No. Not too much." He leaned back to encourage you to look up at him. "You know I really mean all that right? Just the way you are. Quirks included?"

"I guess. And now I'm just self-conscious that I am so self-conscious..."

"You say that as if I'm not the exact same way!" he chuckles, trying to make light of what is clearly a shared wound. You'll deal with that later. Together, preferably. "Please, trust me. Do you trust me?"

And you did. You trusted Spencer with every cell in your body and hair on your head. There was nobody else you'd ever been so confident in. So, you nod against his chest as your tears begin to subside.

"Good. Now why don't we move this party up into the bed?"

"No offense, Spencer, but the last thing I want right now is to f-"

"No no no nooope! Not that, babe," he laughed. "Just wanna lay with you 'til this feeling passes. Is that okay?"

"Please."

And so, the rest of the evening consisted of cuddles under your massive comforter. Sweet admissions whispered in your ear. The tiniest kisses to your hairline and your shoulder and your nose and your wrists.

By the time you dozed into a worry-free slumber, you believed him a little more.

Perhaps you could let Spencer love you, forever.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Dating Dean Winchester Brain Dump Headcannons

Warnings: it's a bit random and all over the place but it's 3am and I've got random thoughts

you've either known each other for a long time (since childhood or teen hood), or you meet on a hunt

Bobby probably introduced you two

You guys realized pretty soon that you'd be good friends based off your interests in music, sarcasm, hunting, etc.

it also helped that Dean thinks you're hot

poor boy tries not to care much about the superficial, but he can't help that it helps

once you get close, he lets you start driving Baby and really pays attention to every detail about you

He's got a cassette tape that has all of your favorite songs on it

when you're not paying attention, he'll pop it in and start playing it

It's labled something like "Y/N/N's favorites"

One of his favorite types of dates are simply driving around, heading into some random roadside diner when you're hungry, and staying out too late at night

He likes basically all types of physical touch

Please run your fingers through his hair or scratch his back

he'll melt and pass away

You always share a bed

Even when you weren't dating, you would sleep together for comfort

Dean runs warm and he knows you're not trying to suffocate, so he turns the AC on full blast to make sure you have to stay close

He likes when you steal his clothes

will purposely leave articles of clothing out for you to take

acts like he's not doing anything when he does it, but you always get the hint

Most of the time, Dean makes Sam ride in the back and you ride shotgun

He loves his brother, but he doesn't get the same level of comfort if you're not up there

He likes to hold your hand in any circumstance

keeps his hand on your thigh when driving around

always makes sure that you're out of the haunted/ sketchy places first

opens doors for you and walks on the sidewalk closest to the road

He likes playing little pranks on you so that when you get over being mad, he gets good post annoyed kisses

Schemes pranks against Sam with you and always will say something like "She made me do it!" when caught

Secretly likes to paint your nails and brush your hair

Dean would die before he admits it, but it's relaxing and he likes being close

he'd do a facemask with you at any time

especially when there's a great shower with like, sixteen shower heads

You're always comforting when he wakes up with a nightmare

Poor boy is always having nightmares and they're mostly about you or Sam dying

He's known to hyperventilate and break into hives if the dreams are bad enough

put him in a warm shower and wash his hair for him and he's peachy

He's probably got an emergancy pie stashed somewhere at all times

Dean thinks that true love is that you make his coffee right every time

Coffee is the only way that he can complete a hunt without dying

Speaking of which, if you get injured or anything on a hunt, he is all over it

Carries you back to Baby no latter if it's a papercut or being shot

Drives pretty recklessly trying to get back to the motel or bunker quickly

Sam will try to help, but Dean insists that he can do everything and will be the only one to patch you up

if he's also injured and can't help you, he's losing his mind

To him, there's nothing worse than not being able to take care of you when you need him

Sam has to tell him to calm down since you seeing him in distress stresses you out more than if Dean would just be a calm bleeding person

Dean likes to take time for himself, but always ends up cutting it short since he misses you/ thinks it would be a better time if you were there

He's got some sort of corny ring tone that always makes him cringe a bit when you call, but he thinks it's too funny to change

He gave you a nice bracelet for your birthday one time and he notices every time you wear it

it makes his heart sour every time he sees you wearing or using something he gave you

makes him feel accomplished/ he did something well

you're the ONLY one that is allowed to wear the leather jacket

he'd go insane if someone else did

When you're up late researching or chilling out, he loves being able to sit in silence as close as possible doing whatever it is you're doing

there's no need for words, it's enough to be together

Obnoxiously singing in the car together

Cleaning Baby together

you walk outside and die when you see him working on Baby

he knows it too and it's annoying

[katsu28]

Kissing away their tears with lando, please and thank you!!🫶🏻

anything for you rachel my love <3 ily!

lando norris x reader, 1.6k, there's a crash but no descriptions of injury. request something from here!

“Norris is doing really well today, isn’t he?” 

You’re not sure whose mouth the words come out of, but your head whips in their general direction, as do the rest of folks in the VIP box. Variations of “Shut the fuck up!” echo around the room, people grumbling to each other about those who obviously don’t know one of the biggest unspoken rules in sports. 

Whenever a player, or in this case, a driver, happens to be doing well in a match (or race), you never, ever mention that they are. You can think it, you can say it in your head, but you don’t ever say it out loud. When those words make it out into the open air, bad things happen. 

Call it stupid, call it superstition, but it’s a known sentiment in sports—Formula One especially. It’s like eating the same breakfast or listening to the same song before every race, or wearing a certain item of clothing every race day because you believe it brings you luck.

Does it actually bring you luck? Maybe, maybe not, but you do it anyway because of the possibility that it could. 

You take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut with a prayer to whatever higher power out there is listening.

Please, please, please don’t let anything fuck up Lando’s race. 

Your prayer is futile.

You hear it before you see it on the TV—a loud crash. Tires skidding over asphalt with a deafening screech, metal grinding on metal, carbon fiber snapping off chassis and skidding across the track.

Instantly, you know there’s been a collision. Your heart leaps into your throat at the single thought that screams its way through your mind like an emergency alarm. 

Was it Lando? 

A hush falls over the track, and suddenly the only thing you can hear is the thundering of your heartbeat in your ears.

On the screen flashes an aerial shot of what you assume is the scene of the crash, but you can’t see much through the smoke and dust. The vague misshapen lump of a mangled car, a wheel rolling away from the wreckage, then—

Your heart drops out of your ass. 

The car is bright orange. And as the cloud of dust gets blown away by the strong wind on track, your eyes zero in on the unmistakable fluoro green of Lando’s helmet.

He’s not moving. 

No, no, no, no. 

Your body is in the move before your brain even realizes you’re running, sprinting through the hall, down the stairs that would take you to the McLaren garage. You’re dodging people, you’re dodging equipment and carts and everything of the sort like a pro. All the while, you feel like you can’t breathe because you don’t know if your boyfriend is okay. You don’t even know if he’s alive. 

That’s what scares you the most. 

You’re stopped by track security before you can enter through to the garage. You show the guard your pass, but he still keeps you there, muttering something into a walkie talkie that you don’t understand. 

“Come on, mate! Do you see what it says? Let me through, please!” You plead, near tears at this point. 

The frantic part of you wants to push right past this knob and find Lando yourself, but you know the only good that’ll do is get yourself thrown out, and that’s the last thing you need right now. Your best option is to play nice, despite all the worst thoughts running rampant in your mind. 

The guard takes what seems like a lifetime to look over your pass, glances up at you, then back down to the pass, but steps aside eventually, waving you into the bustling garage. You force yourself to calm down a smidge, not wanting to disturb any part of Oscar’s race. 

From there, it’s not hard to find Lando’s race engineer. Will looks less worried than you, even as he paces back and forth with his headphones still on. 

“Will!” You blurt, coming to an abrupt stop in front of the tall man. “Please tell me he’s okay.” 

“There you are! I sent someone up to the box to fetch you ages ago. Lando’s at the medical center now, he’s conscious, coherent,” Will says. You let out a sigh of barely there relief. At least he’s alive. “He was asking for you. Reckon you’ll be able to see him after the medics check him out, if you want to go wait there.” 

“Yes. Yeah, yes, thank you, Will,” You breathe, wrangling him in a quick hug before making a mad dash back through the halls towards the medical station.

You’re panting when you get there, fully aware you probably look mental to any sane person, but you don’t care. All you care about is getting to Lando. “Hi, where’s Lando Norris? McLaren driver, number 4, was brought in after the crash at turn ten?” 

The friendly looking woman at the front table smiles sympathetically. “You’re his girlfriend, aren’t you? He told us you’d be worried. Wanted us to make sure someone found you.” 

“I am, yeah. Is he—can I see him?” 

“Sorry, dear. The medic team is still doing their tests and all that. Best let them be for now, but I’ll tell you what.” She leans in like she’s about to divulge some big secret. “I’ll let Lando know you’re here. Technically, I’m not supposed to, but you both seem like you could use a little break.” 

“Thank you,” You say shakily, inhaling a wavering breath. “Thank you so much.” 

“Of course, dear. You just sit tight over here, alright?” 

That’s exactly what you do. You sit in the metal folding chair and you wait. 

Nearly an hour passes and you’re still no closer to seeing Lando than you already were. The race is nearing its end, and you don’t want to bother the nice lady who’d already bent the rules for you once, but you’re almost at your wits end.

You’ve got your head in your hands when you hear your name called. It’s the lady again, telling you you’re able to go see Lando now. You're not sure what to expect when you make your way into the station, but you've gone through so many possibilities in your head you feel like you've adequately prepared yourself for almost anything.

Lando is sitting on the edge of the gurney when you walk into the room, legs swinging aimlessly as he secures his watch around his wrist. 

He’s okay. He’s sweaty and covered in dust and dirt and looks like hell, but he’s okay. 

You’re not sure why that realization, the one you’ve been waiting for this whole time, is the final crack in the dam. Lando’s eyes snap to you at the same time you rush forward, jumping off the bed with a tiny grimace and crossing the cramped room to bring you against his chest. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” He soothes, holding your sobbing frame tight. You’ve got two fists twisted into the lapels of his racing suit, clutching at it like you're afraid he’ll slip right through your fingers. “I’m alright, love. I’m fine, I promise.” 

“I heard you—I saw—” You can’t even get the words out through the tears streaming freely down your face. 

“I know. Fuck, I know, I’m so sorry.” 

You feel his lips press against your tear soaked cheeks, kissing all over your face until your breathing levels out. Even when you do stop hyperventilating, Lando continues to litter gentle pecks all around, finally stopping with one long, lingering kiss to your forehead. 

You’re finally able to release your death grip on the front of his suit, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles as if it wasn’t already completely a mess. 

On instinct, one of your hands slides over his fireproofs, splaying over his chest right where his heart is. It beats strongly under your palm, if not a little faster when you look him in the eyes. It helps, but it does little to get rid of the knotted ball of fear that’s been sitting right on your chest this entire time. But hey, at least you’re not crying anymore. 

“There’s my girl,” He hums, swiping the pad of his thumb under your eyes gently to rid you of any stray tear tracks. His free hand comes to blanket yours where it remains on his chest, fingers curing over your own. “Hi there. Are you alright?” 

“Fuck me, I’m a mess,” You say, sniffling. “I should be the one checking on you and here I am crying like a baby. How are you? Are you hurt, what did the medics say?” You size him up for any outward injuries, patting around his suit gently. Your hand presses against his torso and he winces a little bit at the sudden pressure, but tuts at the wide eyed look you give him. 

“I’m fine, darling. Few bruised ribs and bumps from impact but otherwise a clean bill of health. Don’t even need to go to the hospital.”

“Thank god,” You sigh, slumping forward against his chest in relief. “That was so fucking scary.” 

“Yeah, no kidding,” He murmurs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. His nose presses into your hair, inhaling as deep as he can without pain twinging in his sides. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.” 

You shake your head firmly. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” 

“Me too.” 

“How’s the car?” 

Lando grimaces, shaking his head. “Totaled. Not great.” 

“Is Zak mad?” 

“He’s definitely not happy, but I reckon he’s more relieved I’m okay.” 

“That makes two of us.” You hug him again, careful of his bruised ribs. “I would’ve hit him with your front wing if he was more worried about the damn car.” 

Lando lets out a snort of high pitched laughter, though it does sound a little nervous. He knows you're serious. “Babe, you can’t just whack my boss with a broken off piece of the car.” 

“Would you stop me?” 

“I’d feel obligated to or else I might be fired.” 

“But would you?” 

“Let’s just put a pin in that for now.”

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[kazumist]

THE NAME OF LOVE .ᐟ

✩ — the three times hoshina soshiro dismissed his feelings for you as something that friends do and the one time he realized otherwise.

✩ — request: IVE BEEN WANTING TO REQ U SOMETHING FOR SO LONG NOW I HOPE U DONT MIND !! can i ask for hopeless romantic reader and hoshina soushirou.... the way he... is...... (LOVE PESSIMIST 🫵) I'm a sucker for hoshina falling first or confessing first but it is truly up to you!! i genuinely have no idea where im going with this so pls feel free to change anything to your liking

✩ — includes: hoshina soshiro x gn!reader. fluff. cw: uhm funky pacing bc this is just pure word vom LAWLZ. wc: 3583 (i did not expect for it to be this long i swear). reader works for operations and is considered as second best to okonogi (is also okonogi's assitant). ikaruga and okonogi cameo yipee! hoshina is bad at feelings ™. reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !!

to love is something you cannot name.

that’s a saying that stitched itself onto your brain because it just makes sense. loving someone has way too much depth, depending on the person who is the one lending out their heart and who they are giving it out to in the first place. it could be named as anything, depicted as anything, or interpreted as anything.

especially for you, who had witnessed, watched, read, and consumed all sorts of media that named love as numerous things. sometimes love is tragic, making two people feel so much just for them to get pulled away from each other when they were so close to running into each other’s arms. sometimes love is mirthful, having two people become the best versions of themselves around the person they love because they feel safe becoming vulnerable with the other. yet sometimes love is bittersweet, accepting the art of letting go as it was for the best—accepting that things weren’t just meant to be but not forgetting the emotions the person made you feel.

well, how were you supposed to know what love really is? a hopeless romantic is hopeless for a reason.

having a day off is quite rare, even for the employees of the operations department. the work was quite demanding, as any job involving the JAKDF was. but you still made time to relax and enjoy your rest from time to time, whether that was rewatching a good old romcom film from the 2000s or reading a new romance novel you decided to pick up.

it was normal for a hopeless romantic to dream. to fantasize. that maybe they could experience an extraordinary love like it is portrayed in films or described in songs. so naturally, as a hopeless romantic yourself, you weren’t any different. you just wanted to experience love—to be loved.

then again, liking someone does count as experiencing romance in a sense. admiring someone with traits the public doesn’t really notice is… rare. but that’s how it always went with you. though you wouldn’t really say that you actually acted upon your feelings, they're usually be gone once that person has stepped out of the current environment you’re in.

that’s how it was before.

vice captain hoshina was a respectable man. he is talented, and he sure as hell knows it. as the ton put it, you and the vice captain had a strange relationship—nobody really knows what to call you two. as the secondary leader of operations and okonogi’s assistant, it was only natural to be in the presence of the vice captain most of the time. but there’s just something different when it comes to how you two treated each other.

from flirtatious remarks and confusing gestures that you aren’t sure if you’re supposed to interpret as romantic, just what were you to the vice captain? you’ve observed long enough that he only does this to you. though you don’t really hate it. in fact, you like it that he’s only like that to you—but you weren’t supposed to like him, you swear! but honestly speaking, how could you not? you had plenty of reasons to like the vice captain in that way. you just pray that no one has really noticed it.

however, okonogi wasn’t stupid. she gets praised for her analytical skills for a reason and you wish she didn’t have to use those skills when it came to your romantic interest in the vice captain of all things. she promised to keep it a secret, though, and keeping secrets is a thing okonogi was really good at (to your surprise).

— — — — — — — — 

the first time hoshina denied his feelings for you was when he overheard some rookies talking about you.

“(l/n) is such a blessing to the third division, don’t you think?” one said as the other hummed in agreement. “i know, right? they’re so nice! did you know that they helped me once? they gave me tips on what i should do to enhance my combat power for my fighting style; it was really helpful too!” the rookie beamed. hoshina had an unsettling feeling churning inside of him as he eavesdropped on the conversation. but he quickly shook it off, thinking that he probably ate something funny earlier.

but why hasn’t he received such treatment from you? you were closer to him than some rookies, right? 

right?

wait, what the hell is wrong with me? hoshina thinks, snapping out of his earlier thoughts. he was not jealous of some rookies. those were just rookies, for christ’s sake! hoshina walks away, only to be greeted by the sight of you and ikaruga talking this time.

“thanks again for the film recommendation the other day, (l/n). i didn’t expect to enjoy it so much—you were completely right! it did suit my preferences,” he excitedly says. hoshina watches silently, observing everything in detail. and one thing he notices is that ikaruga is standing close to you—way too close than he preferred.

“really? i’m glad you liked them, ikaruga. feel free to ask for more film recs when you’re free.” you laughed at his enthusiasm. ikaruga had always been a fun person to converse with, in your opinion. and you two bonded over films! but it was really nothing more than that. “will definitely do!” he replies, giving you a two finger wave as he excuses himself.

he was definitely not jealous. why would he be jealous in the first place? you two were just friends.

and friends don’t get jealous like this.

— — — — — — — — 

the second time was when he was undergoing recovery after the whole fiasco of the tachikawa base raid. everyone was exhausted. it was fortunate that the third division didn’t get any casualties during the incident; the majority of the troops were only injured for the most part. soshiro was counted among the severely injured troops but he doesn’t regret it one bit.

or so he thought.

soshiro wakes up slowly, blinking and squirting his eyes at the sudden brightness of the light above him. he felt a weight on the side of his bed when he tried to get up, as if something (or someone) was pressing down on the blanket. looking down, he wouldn’t mistake your hair for anyone else. he knew it was you with just a glance.

and there you were, sleeping softly on the side of hoshina soshiro’s bed. soshiro takes note of your appearance that he could see right now—which was really just your messy hair. he gets up, making sure that you don’t wake up. it is likely that the operation has not had much sleep up to this point, which is why you ended up sleeping in his hospital room of all places.

he feels bad. a hand slowly reaches out to your head, stroking it ever so gently. if he were to be honest, he was worried for he operations team during the attack. he recalls regularly checking in to see if things were okay on your end, and you kept reassuring him that everyone was unscathed. his other hand reaches out to his phone on his bedside, checking to see if he missed anything. he was unconscious until now, he thinks. and the text from okonogi just confirmed all of his suspicions.

you’re probably still unconscious by the time i sent this, but they’ve been there every day since you got admitted. 

that’s all the message contained. soshiro glances at you again, a soft smile tugging on his lips. he doesn’t get why okonogi felt the need to send him that text, but the thought of you waiting for him to be conscious again made him feel… warm inside. but it all went away as he pulled back his hand from your head as you stirred awake. you raised your head, adjusting yourself to be in a more comfortable position as you rubbed your eyes with your knuckles. 

shock was an understatement when you realized that he was finally awake.

“vice captain! i—sorry, i didn’t mean to sleep on your bed. wait, are you okay? does anything hurt?” he just stared at your eyes, trying to process something. shock was still present in your eyes, and relief was mixed in them too. you noticed him not answering anything you said. worried that he might be suffering from some aftereffects, you asked him again. “uhm… vice captain hoshina?”

he snaps out of it as soon as he hears his name. “sorry, i was just thinking. what were you saying?”

“er… is there something on my face? you’ve been staring at my face the whole time since i woke up…”

hoshina blinks once. twice. then thrice. before he focuses his gaze on something else, looking away from you. you held back a laugh at the sight of red tinting his ears as he apologized for his actions. 

“i’m glad you’re alright, vice captain.”

hoshina freezes. he didn’t expect those words to have a bigger impact on him than they do now. but this is all natural, isn’t it? friends worry about each other. friends wish and hope that the other is okay.

yet why does he feel bitter when he labels this as something that friends—no, snap out of it. he thinks.

“i’m glad you’re alright too.”

— — — — — — — — 

the third time was when you were sent to work to the first division of all places. he was completely against it, of course, but he doesn’t have any concrete reason to actually protest against it. 

it was quite boring to not have you there. he didn’t really have anyone to disturb anymore. and the sudden change in the vice captain’s demeanor doesn’t go unnoticed by the platoon leaders. sure, he still had the same toothy grin on his lips, with his fang peeking out ever so often but deep down, you can’t really point out if it was genuine.

after all, hoshina soshiro was good at concealing his emotions and thoughts.

but then again, okonogi wasn’t stupid. it pains her to be the one who’s stuck between the vice captain and her subordinate. soshiro was the same as the night he didn’t get to neutralize kaiju no. 8 back then. shoulder slumped, arms crossed, a slight pout on his lips, and an expression that clearly stated he was pondering about something—or perhaps someone?

“you miss them, don’t you?” okonogi suddenly asks as she organizes the paperwork in front of her. working with hoshina when it came to paperwork wasn’t really new, except for this time because you would also be present in times like these. “miss who?” he decided to play dumb (or is the right term indenial?)

“please don’t make me spell it out for you, vice captain.” she replied, pushing up her glasses.

hoshina doesn’t reply, zoning out as he thinks about okonogi’s words. well, it wasn’t really false that your sudden absence had changed things in the vice captain’s usual routine. he doesn’t see you making a cup of coffee after he finishes training in the middle of the night. nor does he see you drowning yourself in research at the library when you’re not in the operations room, where soshiro would personally lend you a hand and provide his own insights on whatever you’re researching.

oh. 

oh.

he does miss you.

but that’s just normal, right? friends miss each other. and friends tend to leave sometimes but they will always come back when the time is right. however, the head of operations for the third division didn’t have to be some kind of genius to put two and two together. 

the vice captain has some sort of interest in you as well; he just hasn’t realized it himself.

— — — — — — — — 

the day you returned from the first division was the day everything went back to normal for soshiro.

it was currently a quarter after one in the morning, and he had just finished his training. he ended up going more overtime than usual, but if he hadn't, he probably would’ve missed the open door to the library at this hour. and of course, being the ever so curious man he is, he takes a peek in.

and again, there you were. but this time, you were drowning yourself again in research. your hair was a bit messy, and the eyebags doesn’t go unnoticed by him. yet in spite of that, soshiro still found your appearance to be lovely. maybe it was just the fatigue from his training, or perhaps it’s the thought of you being so determined in your work that sparked such a thought in him.

regardless of what the reason actually was, soshiro found your appearance lovely despite it all.

“you should head to bed soon.” he says, approaching the table you were currently working on. you looked up, surprised to see him awake at this hour. but you put your focus back on your work, not even giving him a second glance—which surprised the vice captain. he reads on whatever you were working on, noticing that they were mostly reports of kaiju no. 9. 

“researching on kaiju no. 9, i see. need a hand?”

“there’s just something off about him and i can’t put my finger on it. also thanks, but no thanks. i can handle this myself, vice captain.”

“it’s almost two in the morning, are you sure about that?”

he didn’t quite catch on to what your reply was, but he was positive that you just declined his offer either way. hoshina decides to pull up the chair beside you and grab the small stack of reports in front of you. he rotates the lamp a bit in his direction, but just enough to leave some light for you to read as well if you needed to.

you sigh at him. “vice captain, you really don’t have to—”

“but i want to. it’s the least i could do.”

truth be told, you really can’t bring yourself to be in the presence of the vice captain now. everything was just confusing. you were aware that the vice captain doesn’t really like paperwork in general (who even likes paperwork in the first place?) but you don’t get why he’s so insistent on helping you every time he finds you here.  

you don’t get why he likes your company so much. you considered yourself to be plain, a bit mundane for someone to actually spend some time with. especially when your interests don’t really spark any others for the most part. 

and while you may be a hopeless romantic, you weren’t foolish. even if you like the vice captain who’s currently making an effort to help you with your work, he’s just way out of your league. he’s too high to reach, and you were sure as hell that he would never actually look at you in that way. not now, not ever.

but why? why does a part of you keep saying that maybe he does? he wouldn’t do all of that if he didn’t actually look at you in that way, right? hope is a dangerous thing for someone who doesn’t know how to stop. for someone like you who refuses to give up on most occasions. it was stupid. foolish. naive.

not now, not ever would hoshina soshiro actually look at you that way.

“vice captain, please get some rest.”

“i could say the same to you.”

god, why is this man so stubborn? is he not tired from all the late night training he does? you thought, slowly getting frustrated. hoshina tells you his observations based on the reports in his hands and shares his hypothesis on the matter. he had some valid points and he’s lending a great hand at the moment. but frustration was just getting the best of you at the moment from your numerous trains of thought.

“the fact that he can adapt so easily is scary in itself. and the recent report of him breaking in the operations room in the first division states that—”

“why are you doing this?” you cut him off.

hoshina stares at you, dumbfounded at your question. he opens his mouth to answer, but no words actually come out of him. he chuckles bitterly in his mind. soshiro would like an answer to that question as well. but then it dawned on him. every flashed across his mind in seconds, and he finally realized it.

yet the result of that still scared him.

he was in love. hoshina soshiro is in love—with you nonetheless. the person he swore was just a friend. it took him quite a while to realize it, always being in denial that it was just normal for friends to act the way you two were. but he was in love. and that scared him. because what is he supposed to do when he finally realizes that you have consumed him? he never wanted this to happen, not in a million years.

but perhaps he was in love with you long before he started tripping along the lines of being friends and something more.

why are you doing this? your question echoed in his head. because i love you, he swallows back down his throat. he can’t say it. there’s no way things would work out. he could die any day and he’d rather not see you miserable because of his death. it would be better if you found someone else—but how ironic. he couldn’t really handle the thought of you being with someone else in the first place.

why are you doing this? your question echoes again. “because i love you.” he finally says, hesitant even. hesitant to know what you’re reaction was going to be. your eyes went wide at the sudden confession, and hoshina was certain that you wouldn’t believe him (well, he couldn’t really believe it either). “you’re kidding me,” you replied.

“i’m not.”

and surely enough, the look on the vice captain’s eyes said it all. he was dead serious. "i... why?” it's ten past two in the fucking morning, and you were too scared to accept that all of this was occurring right now, so you were afraid to ask. you were too scared to just randomly wake up and realize that maybe it was all a dream. too scared to believe that your feelings are being reciprocated.

“because you’re different—different to me, if that makes sense. it’s like you have this effect when it comes to me. food tastes better whenever i share a meal with you; my day just feels more peaceful whenever i get to see you’re doing fine, and i realized that maybe i haven’t actually looked at you like a friend or coworker for as long as i can remember; i was just too stupid to realize it earlier.” he avoids his gaze for a moment before looking at you again.

“i love you. i want you to look at me and love me too. we’ve come too far to turn back. i’m already too deep into you.”

you were speechless. 

he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. it repeated like some sort of chant inside of your head as you processed everything. hoshina soshiro loves you back—who would’ve thought? you hadn’t realized that he was sitting so close to you. the tension was so thick, but you easily cut it down as you started with your response.

“you’re an amazing man, vice captain, and i truly cannot grasp how you could feel such feelings towards me, but i love you too.” you could see hoshina jump in his seat in shock at your confession, but you continued. “i love you in ways you have never been loved, for reasons that you may not have been told, for longer than you think you deserve and with more than you will ever know existed inside of me. yet i can’t help but still wonder… how? why? wait no, why was already answered—”

he chuckles at you. stopping you with your words. “what’s so funny?” you pouted at him. “it’s nothing. i just can’t believe that we’re seriously having this moment at two in the morning.”

“sorry, i think that may have been on my part. i kind of snapped there because i was just so… confused.”

“confused?”

“yeah, confused if we’ve crossed the line between friends or lovers without actually realizing it. crazy, right?”

hoshina moves a bit closer to you, making the distance between the two of you smaller than before. he puts his forehead against yours. “not really, but i look at you, and i just love you, and it terrifies me. it terrifies me what i would do for you. i’m in love but i’m also terrified���that’s what i think is crazy.”

“then let’s be terrified together,” you whispered to him.

a soft laugh leaves his lips this time. “i like the sound of that.” he whispers back.

he loves you.

and you love him back.

that’s all what matters.

love, in general, can make you feel all sorts of things. joy, confusion, anger, fear, and many more. it can also make you do all sorts of things. it can make you do things you never really imagined doing for or with someone in the first place. it tends to be irrational—ridiculous, even. but the thought of doing all of it for the person you care most about? you finally realized that’s simply what love is all about for you.

to love is something you truly cannot name.

[blvdheart]

SHARED MY BODY AND MY MIND WITH YOU

→ Leon broke up with you because of his emotional baggage, not wanting to drag you down into his trauma-induced misery. He didn’t usually date out of his line of work anyway, he hated himself for involving himself with someone so innocent. But when he gets a voicemail at an awfully late hour and listens to it, he nearly broke driving laws to get to your place. He still loves you, that much is certain. Your body and mind are like a second nature to him

CW: MDNI, fem!reader, pwp, one sided breakup, angst, description of leon’s self guilt and sabotage, heavy mentions of marriage, centered around Leon rather than the reader, reconciliation, lovemaking–gentle sex, crying, very small religious snippet, he eats you out, unprotected p in v, implied aftercare + implication of a better future

WC: 5.3k

Note: i think…this is my favorite fic that i’ve ever written. breaking my pink blog theme with this and actually capitalizing letters um…i had to set the tone okay. i actually started working on this in january to cope with some things, but i didn’t make much progress until recently!! the title’s a lyric from the song ‘cruel world’

MASTERLIST

Leon has a rule: never get emotionally involved with anyone who isn’t in his line of work. The reason behind that is self-explanatory. It's too difficult to accomplish. All his baggage holds him down, and he’s always away for long periods at a time and then returns back with body aches all over and has to hibernate for a while. What does he truly have to offer?

He did it anyway.

You managed to romance him, granting him a fleeting glimpse of happiness and a chance at self-love. Lingering caresses, meaningful eye contact, soulful conversations, an audience to his jokes, the key to your heart — you gave him everything.

Breaking up with you was painful, the second it was all said and done and you were out of his sight, he broke down crying. That was what he deserved, that’s what his mind told him.

It was easy for Leon to disappear from your life, just as quick as the snap of his fingers. He was never around that much to begin with. Your efforts in reaching out to him were futile if he was halfway across the world dealing with another abrupt assignment, or if he fell back into the habit of nursing a drink in some run down bar without contacting a soul.

But no amount of alcohol could make him forget about you these days. The memories of you were too strong to be diluted.

“What about this one?” Curiosity had dripped from your question, your fingers gently feathered across the healed up scar on his left shoulder.

Leon was almost an open book when it came to you, he truly cherished honesty in any relationship, whether romantic or platonic. Guilt weighed on him for having to limit certain answers to only the surface details. It felt wrong; it felt like he was keeping secrets from you and keeping you in the dark. But it couldn’t be helped, not when you weren’t in the same line of work as him. Most of the contents of his work were confidential.

After all, at this point the two of you had only been dating for half a year. How could he burden your mind with the harsh realities of everything that wasn’t known by the general public?

The two of you were naked, tangled under the sheets. No sex or anything, simply getting familiar with each other’s bodies and exploring with gentle and cautious hands.

“1998, shot on duty.”

The memories were still fresh in his mind. People say that forgetting a traumatic event is common, people dissociate to cope and shield their brain. It was the opposite for Leon. All the screams plagued his mind like a damn mantra, no way in hell would he ever be able to forget anyone’s voice.

Either that, or his mind made up fantasies about what could’ve been between you both. Domestic bliss. Buying a house together. Shy talks about how many kids you guys wanted. The memories haunted him. He wanted it back.

He even bought a ring. A beautiful one that he was meant to display to you when he sunk onto one knee and popped the question that would hopefully bind the two of you for life. The one that he was supposed to fidget with whenever he held your hand as the two of you planned your wedding, whether it be simple, grand, or to elope.

He kept it safe even after he broke up with you, he couldn’t bear to throw it away because of the sliver of hope that maybe one day he’d still get the chance of putting it on your finger. He felt like a fool. Sometimes he opened the box up to reminisce. It tugged at his heartstrings when he saw how rough his own fingers were in comparison to the smooth metal, from his years of physical exhaustion and training. God, he wished your hands would never get all battered like his.

He thought about you so much that you were the star actress in his nightly dreams.

The worst ones were the nightmares, though. Like the one that had him turning in his sleep tonight.

It all replayed in his mind. Your facial expression when he broke up with you out of the blue — the way the smile on your face had faded into a frown, your glimmering eyes contorting into that of disheartened ones. The way you looked at him with such a concoction of emotions. The pitiful chuckle that escaped your lips along with a nervously spoken ‘what?’ Or maybe it was the prolonged silence afterwards that killed him. It felt like hours until he got a proper response from you, one that was drowned out by the drumming of his own heart and the pulse that formed in his ears.

Usually he got to the end of it, but tonight he was abruptly woken up by the sound of his phone ringing. A blessing in disguise, maybe. Regardless, he was a bit irritated, he had always been such a light sleeper.

“You’re kidding…” Leon let out a heavy sigh, trying to rub the sleep away from his eyes. He didn’t even want to answer, too tired to even think about the possibility of being called to the field. No way in hell did he want to be met with Hunnigan’s voice and some intel he didn’t feel like remembering.

He let the phone ring, and eventually, blissful silence filled the room again. If it was dire, he knew he’d get another call soon.

Instead, he heard his phone vibrate not long after. He muttered out a curse before reaching for his phone, seeing that a voicemail was left. He didn’t bother reading whose number it was. Christ, the message was 5:06 minutes long.

Whatever. He played it aloud, resting his forearm over his face as he listened in.

“Hey Leon, it’s me…”

Fuck.

He fully sat up on his bed, so quickly it could’ve given him whiplash.

“I miss you. Still think about you every day. I don’t know what I did wrong…you probably aren’t even listening to this. I just…I don’t know.” a sigh. “The clock hit 12 and um, well today’s the anniversary of the day you asked me out. Maybe you don’t remember. I think you do though, you were always good with dates.”

Leon knew the voice of a broken person when he heard it.

No. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was supposed to let you go and then you’d see how much life had to offer, how any other person could give you a better and more stable relationship.

How could you be hung up on a man like him?

It was instinctual. He shuffled out of bed, body reacting before his mind and reaching for a clean pair of clothes from his closet. He left the voicemail playing in the background, it filled his lonely house. His heart was racing so loudly he couldn’t even hear the sounds of the wind outside or the creak of the floor with every step. All he did was change and brush his teeth before he drove over to you.

Thankfully, the roads were empty and the highway was free of traffic or else surely he would’ve been pulled over.

Thinking rationally wasn’t necessary when it came to you, not when he just got punched in the gut with a load of nostalgia and gut wrenching heartbreak.

He has always been yours, even during the separation. His heart hammered within his ribcage when he pulled into your driveway, his body moving in a hurry out of his car and towards your door. No hesitation.

Knock, knock, knock.

Ten seconds felt like ten minutes, but eventually the door swung open.

Your pretty face filled the focus of his pupils, his expression softening. You looked like a deer in the headlights, gazing up at him with wide eyes.

Oh, my sweet girl. There she is.

His hands itched to reach for you, to hold you in his arms and spin you around, nuzzling his nose against yours like old times — like some romantic drama. He hadn’t watched one in a while, they reminded him too much of you. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Leon's hair was messy. It was a sight you had seen many times: his bed hair. Those emotion carrying eyes of his were contrasted with the lifeless bags under them. He came over so damn quickly he hadn’t even taken the time to make himself look composed.

“Leon? What are you…” You couldn’t even finish your thoughts. You felt nothing yet so much at the same time, perhaps from the shock of it all. You brought two fingers to the pulse on your neck to make sure you were awake, and hadn’t somehow fallen asleep after your call and voicemail to him. The thundering pace of your pulse confirmed that you weren’t off in dream land.

“I got your voicemail,” He responded, sounding remorseful. “Had to make sure you were alright. Uh…can I come in?”

You continued staring at him like if he was some sort of supernatural being. If you reached your hand out to touch him, would he disappear? Or perhaps your limb would go straight through him as if he was transparent.

You snapped out of it and nodded. “Yeah, come on in.” Hesitation clouded your tone, not out of wariness but because you had no clue what the hell was going on. You hadn’t seen him in over a year, at least not in person, only through photos and videos you still had saved on your phone from when the two of you were dating (going through them was part of your nightly routine.)

“To be honest…I wasn’t expecting you to even hear my message.”

You stood there awkwardly as he entered, closing the door afterwards. Your apartment still smelled the same, a wave of comfort washed over him despite the circumstances, his eyes darting around at all your belongings. This was once his safe space, like his secret haven.

You sat on your couch, waving him over. Your legs felt like jelly, no way could you be standing for this. He followed, sitting on the couch cushion on the opposite side from you.

“My ringtone woke me up. I thought you were a coworker of mine at first but…I’m glad you weren’t.”

“Glad, really?”

“Yeah.” He gave no further context, at least for that minute.

Silence hung in the air, time became still. Either way, the shared glance between the two of you broke the tension, you were both thinking the same thing. Your minds were linked, seeking reconciliation, every circuit of neurons buzzing with your shared proximity.

He rested his elbows on his knees, running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit. Everything felt surreal, you couldn’t take your eyes off him, afraid he’d disappear.

“I’m…I’m sorry about the way I ended things.” There was a crack in his voice, he was so desperately clinging onto the ideology that he shouldn’t wear all his heart on his sleeve. He failed every time though, his words had wavered.

“I know.” You truly did.

“How?”

“Because I know you, Leon. It hurt, and I found myself wondering why you would just up and leave after what felt like such a meaningful time. But I didn't ever think you did it with mal intent.”

You should be demanding answers, hell, he could even take a few slaps to the face. Maybe his guilt ridden self preferred that to your sweet treatment. Did he even deserve to be met with your understanding? This self-pitying mindset he harbored is what had led to this in the first place.

“You’re right. I didn’t mean to hurt you, that’s the last thing I wanted to do.” Were his efforts in explaining himself getting across? “I thought it was better this way. I'm…broken.”

Trying to convince him that he isn’t ‘broken’ was futile, all you could do was beautify it instead. You scooted closer to him, clasping one of his hands between yours. “All you see are your faults, but I was seeing you entirely, not just for what you do in your job or the images that keep you up at night.”

His hands felt the same. Calloused in areas he couldn’t help like his knuckles and his palms, but well-kept in the nail department. He looked down at the physical contact, putting his other hand atop yours, his thumb grazing tenderly at your skin. Familiar territory.

“It’s hard not to.” He admitted, his eyes feeling glossy all of a sudden. “My job is my life, it drags into every other part of my life.”

“How did it drag into our relationship?”

He truly didn’t know how to answer that. The times he shared with you were the best experiences of his life. He finally got the chance to pull out his cardboard box full of romantic movies to watch with the lover he had been waiting for his whole life, you. Countless nights spent cooking together in your kitchen, full of laughter and playful bickering, and some harmless food fights. Grocery shopping together with laced fingers, just a sneak peek into domesticity. God, he yearned for its return.

“I don’t know. I constantly had to leave and got no vacation time either. Let’s see…I had to keep a lot of information confidential. It kinda screams ‘this’ll all make a girl run the other way.’”

How wrong he was, he ended up leaving before he could get abandoned, as if that would’ve happened, though, you never wanted him out of your life.

“That wasn’t true for me, Leon. I wanted to be with you. I just hope I wasn’t a burden on you.”

That hurt. A dull ache spread across his chest. He pulled you close, tucking you against his side.

“Don’t say that,” His instruction was soft spoken, his lips brushed against your cheek. You were never a burden, he always shut you out, thinking that his heart was full of thorns and you’d prick yourself if he let you get too close. That, perhaps his sorrow was contagious and his poison would flood your veins.

Words of comfort weren’t his strong suit, but he tried his best. He had to. “You weren’t a burden. Never were, and never will be, okay?”

It felt so good to have you against him, his gaze was set on you, searching for any indicator that you were uncomfortable. You leaned your shoulder against his shoulder though, nuzzling against him. Pensive silence followed.

Even with the somber undertones filling your apartment, your heart was bursting. He was here, back with you. Holding you like he used to do after you had a particularly stressful day at work, or when you had an argument with one of your close ones.

The long separation made familiar carnal desires spark to life, along with the itch to bring them to fruition.

“I’m glad you’re here.” You murmured to him, but your wavering voice caught his instant attention.

You were on the verge of tears, oh dear. If you started sobbing, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to hold back from crying either.

Leon didn’t waste a second, pulling you onto his lap, one of his hands stroking the back of your head, his other arm wrapping around your back.

“What are you thinking about?” He needed to know. You had always been the most verbal, whereas his feelings usually showed on his face or body language.

“About how much I missed you.” You respond, running your hands up and down his arms, squeezing at his muscles. “And how unreal this feels. And…” Your eyes flicker down to his lips. “I wanna kiss you, Leon…and y’know.” Make love. “Like old times.”

Oh.

“Are you sure?” Leon hadn’t intended for the night to play out this way. He needed to make sure you were actually thinking straight with the pool of emotions you seemed to be drowning in. To be fair, he was drowning too.

It was midnight, your bodies burned for one another.

“I am.” You uttered those words with such finality, eyes set on him.

This wasn’t some impromptu longing for his physical connection, you had been craving it for as long as the two of you had been separated. To feel him in the purest and most tender way possible, nestled against one another and eliciting feelings no one else could.

The pads of his thumbs rub circles against the fat of your hips. He's looking up at you, his eyes are unable to hide a flicker of yearning and affection. Expressive, his pupils dilated and his eyebrows slightly raised. He blinked slowly, like a cat showing utmost trust to its owner.

He looks at you like he worships you (he does.) Get him on his hands and knees, he’ll mumble your name like you’re his god and he’s praying to you, all his sins out in the open and his scarred body for you to look over and judge. He’ll be vulnerable with you if that means you’ll forgive his wrongdoings and give him a second chance. You must be a merciful god, no doubt about it.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You murmured, cupping his face. His gaze was hypnotic, sending a wave of security down your body. It almost felt as if you traveled to the time before he shattered your heart into pieces of glass.

“Like what?” He couldn’t help it. Not like he had a mirror, anyway. His face was usually tense, brows permanently furrowed and eyes narrowed from being attentive all the fucking time, his lips a straight line, jaw anything but relaxed.

Not right now, though. Never with you. Everything in his body softened and loosened up around you. Well, with the exception of his dick but that was another matter.

“You know what I mean. Like…like you still love me.”

Leon didn’t know what to say. The words died in his throat while every fiber of his being wanted to say ‘I do.’ The same words he could’ve voiced out standing across the altar from you. His brain short-circuited.

His pause came across as ambiguous to you, to mask the pain, you kissed him. Like a chocolate on a hot summer day, he melted in an instant, turning to mush, holding one side of your jaw and matching your pace.

The two of you mingled like two puzzle pieces. Your chest was flush against his, one of your hands finding his hair and pulling on it, earning a drawn out groan from him. It went slow for the first five minutes, some occasional pull backs for breath, shy smiles in betweens, before going back in like the act of kissing was needed for your pulses to continue, your hearts beating as one.

“Mmph.” Your whimper made him shudder, oh how he had missed that noise. His other hand got a bit more confident, resting on the small of your back, moving up towards your ribs then back down, almost resting on your ass.

He felt a surge of heat settle in his groin, aching to give you all the pleasure you deserved, to make you feel cherished and known. To knock any misery out of your head and replace it with euphoric sparks and reassurance. To be one with you again, if you’d have him.

He pulled away from the kiss, his eyes fluttering open. “Bedroom?”

A nod from you was all it took. He didn’t let you get up, instead holding your ass as he stood up, his lips back on yours as he carried you to your bedroom like he owned the place. His mind still had the spatial layout, it worked out and he eventually placed you onto the middle of the bed oh so delicately.

You knew what was coming, already taking your clothes off in a haste as you heard his belt come undone, the sound of his taking his shirt off, and his boots being kicked off.

It wasn’t long until he was on you again.

Leon took his time to look at your body. He was all too familiar with it, knowing exactly where certain beauty marks were, or the places that were sensitive to even the slightest fan of his breath. His fingertips ghosted over your sides, sucking in a sharp inhale as his eyes roamed all over, studying you as if you were his muse and he was about to draw you. “So beautiful…”

His lips had traveled all across you once upon a time. Leon had a great memory, perhaps one of his best features, though also his downfall. At times like these, it comes in handy. It almost seemed like a hazy flashback to the nights he had you splayed on the bed, pressing his lips against your forehead and making it all the way to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He wanted to mimic the memory. “Need to taste you. Can I?”

“God, yes.” You agreed in a heartbeat, body already feeling all tingly at the anticipation.

He littered open mouthed kisses from the middle of your chest, all the way down to your end of your stomach, making your body ignite with flames and mind flood with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. What day was it? Month? Year? You couldn’t remember, just desperately hoping this wasn’t some realistic feeling dream. You’ve had those too often, and if you woke up without him by your side, you felt like you would die from heartbreak.

He hooked his arms underneath your thighs to pull you close. His fingers dug into your thighs as he took another look at his favorite pretty cunt. He missed this. Missed you. Missed having you grind yourself against his face until he couldn’t breathe. Missed having his heart race from the angelic noises you blessed his ears with.

His nose pressed against your clit, applying light pressure as his tongue lapped at your slit, gathering the dew there. Geez, he really got right into it. Your eyes rolled back, your stomach tensing and your back arching. You could die right now by your (ex) lover’s tongue, what a way to go.

On the occasion that he opened his eyes, he’d look up at you through his light lashes — he swore you looked like an angel from his perspective.

“What is this? Your last meal on death row?” You were joking, but god…he really was making your mind go blank, he knew just all the right buttons to press.

“Oh, so you think I’m a criminal?”

Like always, you reached for his hair, pushing it back and hearing him growl out of contentment. He gave your clit gentle sucks before flattening his tongue against it and flicking it, his head moving side to side, repeating the process again and again.

One thing about Leon? He always found a way to turn you on by being vocal. His noises were muffled and sloppy but you could feel the vibration of all his whimpers and growls against you as he took his time eating you out. He was getting off to pleasuring you, and that fact alone made it so much hotter.

Your thighs were trembling, threatening to close in and squeeze his head. Leon placed one of his hands over your lower abdomen, applying light pressure with his palm and coaxing you into your orgasm.

It didn’t take you long to get there, you hadn’t felt a tongue on you in ages, he was your last.

“Leon, I’m—“

He already knew.

“That’s it, make a mess all over my face.” It sounded like a demand but instead it came across as a pitiful and desperate plea.

How many times had he been in this position? Lying on his stomach, your taste on his tongue, chin dripping with his drool and your wetness, feeling your body trembling…he couldn’t even count how many. But it was enough for him to know your body like no other.

He kept going even after your thighs started squeezing in on him, even with the way you unintentionally tugged at his hair enough to have him rutting against your sheets. He made sure to make your orgasm feel good, lapping at you all throughout until he heard a whine leave your lips and he felt you weakly push his head away — he didn’t want to overstimulate you and hurt you.

He finally took a breath, one that filled his lungs with satisfaction as he propped himself up on his elbows before sitting up. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling his blood pump south with the way you were still composing yourself, your legs twitching all cutely and your torso rising and sinking with each deep breath you attempted to take.

“Do you wanna…” Your eyes flitted down to the prominent tent in his pants, feeling a stirring in your stomach already.

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I mean…only if you want to.”

With his belt already in some corner of the room and his fly down, all that was left was discarding his pants and boxers down. He fished his wallet out and pulled a packet from it before doing so.

You were too distracted eyeing his now exposed dick, gulping. It had been a while. But a certain wrapper noise caught your attention. A condom. You had always been careful with him in the past, but you wanted him inside him without any barriers. To feel him entirely, his skin against your insides.

“Don’t, please?”

“But–“

“I need to feel you, Leon.”

“Already being a bad influence on me? What am I gonna do with you?” His jest was met with your roll of eyes, but the corners of your eyes crinkled, happy he was already comfortable enough to bicker a bit.

He pet your head, gazing fondly at you as he awaited your response.

“I just want to feel you as close as possible. I don't know how to explain it. You can pull out at the end…I dunno.”

You didn’t need to explain further, because he felt the same. He kissed your forehead, whispering “okay.”

Getting in between you and in position for missionary, he continued peppering kisses all over your face. He couldn’t hold back, he had so much to make up for, he owed you at least a thousand more. He pushed into you, a breathy moan leaving his lips, it felt like he had just entered the pearly gates. And the way your jaw hung open in a silent gasp told him you felt the same.

“You alright?”

“Mhm, keep going.”

“God, I missed you…” His thrusts made the bed creak, adding to the assortment of sounds of two bodies joined as one: skin against skin, high pitched gasps and occasional throaty groans, nails scratching against Leon’s back and leaving red marks in their wake, a subtle noise, but there nonetheless.

“Yeah? How much?”

“Too much. Could never get you outta my mind.” He admitted, burying his head against your neck to leave open-mouthed kisses all over, smiling when he felt you squirming. “Dreamt about you every night. Every…every morning I woke up, I thought you’d still be by my side.”

His response knocked the breath out of you, God if you could have him closer than physically possible, you would. This was the closest you’d be though, his tip hitting your g-spot, his body flush against yours, it was just the two of you in this never ending universe.

“Leon…Leon…fuck.” You called for him like you needed him to prevent you from crumbling.

He pinned one of your hands to the side of your head and laced his fingers between yours, his head remaining against your other side, raspy grunts and incoherent praises rumbling against your ear. He gently bit your earlobe, tugging at it and sending a shiver down your spine.

Despite all his self doubts, Leon knew how to love, how to send another person to cloud nine and make their head fuzzy with sheer euphoria. He wasn’t fucking you, he was loving you, there’s a clear difference.

His lips trailed to your jawline, eventually reaching your lips and initiating an uncoordinated make out session, the sound of dazed out whimpers and quiet growls mixing together perfectly.

He was getting there, his pace more erratic than before, his hand squeezing yours tightly. “You’re so pretty.” He mumbled against your lips, speaking in between rushed pecks. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

You managed to smile at that. “Yeah? Well you’re the prettiest boy in the world.”

You could’ve said handsome. Or hot. Or cute. But Leon was pretty, that was always the first thing that came to your mind. He was like a model, surely some agency would have tried to recruit him if he were actually in broad daylight more.

“Mm.” He liked the compliment. No more words were exchanged after that, he was focused on feeling you. Feeling the way you took all of him like it was nothing, clearly the two of you were physically made for one another.

There was no going back from this, Leon couldn’t bear the thought of getting a taste of happiness yet again and then falling back into a hopeless pit. He wouldn’t push you away again.

You were already sensitive from the way he had made you cum on his face earlier. You pulled away from his kisses, your head thrashing side to side against the pillow instead, your hips desperately bucking to meet his.

“Leon…”

“Just let go for me, you can do it.”

Moans ripped from your throat, your nails leaving crescent indents on his skin as your body writhed underneath him. Leon couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you came, his own stomach feeling tighter and tighter until he followed suit.

“I love you.” He let it slip at the very end, his mind too dazed and his emotions for you running at full blast. You would’ve replied if not for the way you were in awe, watching the way his eyebrows furrowed, his head tilted back, his mouth let out the raspiest grunts as he pulled out and came. Fuck, he couldn’t be real.

It was only then that Leon’s head cleared. He felt his heart sink to his stomach, had he said something wrong? The moment died down, he felt uncertain about how you’d react. Regardless, Leon took a moment to admire you in your flushed state before leaning down to kiss your head, then lying down beside you and pulling you to his side.

You were all dazed with his confession lingering in your head.

He still loved you. Maybe it was obvious, but hearing it aloud was a completely different feeling.

All the suppressed emotions between the two of you were being put on the spotlight. Your eyes brimmed with unshed tears, you tried to blink them away, but you failed.

Leon wished your eyes hadn’t gotten glossy and that your lips hadn’t tugged into a small frown. It made his heart physically ache. Heavy hearted, that’s what he felt like, swallowing to try to alleviate just how sore his throat felt all of a sudden. Guilt bubbled in his stomach because he knew he was the source of your tears.

He kissed away your tears, welcoming the salty taste of them.

He couldn’t tell you not to cry, he wasn’t in the position to. All he could do was reassure you instead, curling his hand into a fist before rubbing soothing circles onto your back as he watched you curl against him.

“Hey…”

“Sorry. I didn't mean to start crying. I just…you still love me? Did you mean that?”

“It’s okay. Just let it out, I'm here for you.” He had your head tucked underneath his chin. “And yeah…I never stopped.”

“I love you too.”

He wasn’t leaving this time.

Maybe that ring he held onto would find its true owner soon.

You, his sweet girl.

[thehelltingvilleclub]

Bill Dickey - Comic & Ego Extraordinaire

Welcome to the club, why not meet the president?

William “Bill” Alan Dickey [04/13/80] | [5'11.5 (that .5 is real Important*)] Secretary of Comics | President of the Eltingville Club AOL / Online Users: [greedo318] | [DarkxKnightx] Theme Songs: What’s My Age Again? - blink-182 | My Own Worst Enemy - Lit | Brutal - Negative 25 Favorite Shit: Stan Lee, The X-Men, Complete Runs, Signed Editions, The Joker, Emma Frost, The Batman, Alternate Earths, Variant Covers, Crossovers, Torrent Sites, Action Figures, Statues/Busts, Alex Ross, Bondage Covers, First Printings, Continuity, Cosplay Chicks, “Headlights”.

In the ripe year of 1999, Bill Dickey couldn't be any more... Tired? Annoyed? A lonely piece o' sh-- But that's fine, everything is fine, right guys? .... Guys? The fact he's managed to keep the club together is baffling at best (and all thanks to Jerry, and May.. er.. Mr. Osewai, actually), and completely unbelievable at worst, but he's still got his friends (kind of) and they still like him (eh..) He's a nice guy, honest, just.. don't turn on your brain.

Variants Under the Cut--

Oh Captain, My Captain

His @ greedo318 account got banned essentially in the first two weeks of him getting it on Messenger about a year back, as May and Pete helped Josh essentially spam report it when he started to harass Josh there too. Hence the new name that he actually uses.

Mrs. Dickey is still trying to force him to get a job, and while he has applied, he flops any and every interview he lands with his stupid need to be the loudest asshole in the room.

This man's ego is absolutely the size of the sun, it's almost immeasurable I assure you, HOWEVER--

Show him some ⋆｡°✩spunk~✮⋆˙ show him you bark back just as harsh as him and he *might* just keep you around.

Someone please just get him a better acne face wash and a steady form of income that isn't his mother's paychecks bro please for the love of god--

He was actually one of the first in the group to get a car, but he never has money for gas so he like never drives it. It was a "gift from dad" according to his mom, but he doesn't believe her for a minute. (He's convinced she bought it for him to get him to move out.)

His mom watches Titanic every year on his birthday after 1997 and he HATES it to the point he has threatened to disconnect the breaker if she kept playing it at full volume.

He is still convinced that he has a shot with May (Despite her telling him repeatedly no) and is INSISTENT about it like a possessive little weirdo (news flash, he doesn't but he's delusional so it's fine)

^^ This absolutely pisses Pete off but he can't say shit cause he's a baby that won't ask her out so--

The night of the Destruction of Joe's Fantasy World, Mr. Osewai had tried to stop in and pick something up for May when he walked in on.. well, Dickey on fire. His paternal instincts kicked in and managed to help the kids and smooth some things over with the families (and.. may or may not have threatened to rip out Joe's tongue but like it's fine).

Dickey has a strong sense of gratitude for the guy, even if he expresses it in the WEIRDEST ways, 'cause at the end of the day the guy kind of saved his only group of friends from his own bullshit.

When he does eventually land a job, it's essentially a generic gas station attendant, but they let him read his comics on the job when he has to work nights so that's a plus?

Guh guys I hate this man so much can someone please explain why I have so much fun drawing him please please please--

also... this somethin' y'all want?

[kiyoomi-levin]

Morning Routine pt.1 [nsfw]

(Wakatoshi Ushijima x F!Reader)

a/n this is something i wrote and edited today in a single run >.< I wanted to release a haikyuu fluff fic for my tumblr debut but i was just possessed by something this morning and rolled outta bed and just typed this up hehe.. reblogs and comments appreciated!! i have like 12 unfinished works rn and i am busting my ass off to get those finished and published! please be on the lookout for more from me!

summary:: wakatoshi has a bad habit-- his morning routine revolves around you. more specifically, cumming to the sounds of you. warnings:: wakatoshi is highkey a creep/stalker but this fic is fluffy i promise music rec!:: 2fast by superm <AKA the song i listened to when writing> word count:: 1.9k

6:33 AM, the blinking clock reads. 

He doesn’t even need an alarm now. 

Silently, Wakatoshi rolls over, reaches over to his nightstand and grasps the two items he needs most– lube and toilet paper. 

Sighing, he sits himself up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, and, as if awaiting instructions, goes very, very still. 

In a way, he is waiting for orders. You just aren’t aware that you’re the one giving them. 

6:34 AM. A mere minute before you’re up and he can get started with his day. It doesn’t feel right, yet he can’t stop. Shaking his head, Wakatoshi shifts his weight around, impatient. 

I should stop. 

There it is. That nagging voice of reason that scolds him every morning. But really, at this point, he can’t function normally without you. 

There’s a certain amount of stress that comes with carrying the title of ace. All the papers praising his skills, cheering fangirls, and words of encouragement from coach only added to the ever growing expectations that people had for him. 

Luckily, when he was a senior in high school, Wakatoshi had discovered what best alleviates this pressure– not meditation, not Tendo’s comics, but sexual relief. 

Every morning, a quick handjob does the job, gets him into prime condition. He even checked with his primary doctor to ensure it’s safe and healthy to release everyday– “you’ll be fine, Wakatoshi, as long as you don’t consume too much porn,” the old man had advised kindly. 

He took the doctor’s words to heart– since he had discovered this method of relief, Wakatoshi had never viewed porn. Some of his teammates laughed at him when they found out he almost religiously avoids it, but he doesn’t want to contaminate his brain with potentially intrusive or disturbing visions. His imagination has always been enough, after all. 

Until he met you.

In a way, you’re both a blessing and a curse– probably the latter, he admits to himself. Because since he’d met you months ago, the only thing that’s been able to get him up is you. 

He’s never slept so well, his skin has never looked so clear, and, most importantly, his condition on court has never been better. He’s considered the possibility of you being a goddess, or possibly his guardian angel and can only rule those out with the fact that you, like him, masturbate. 

More accurately, masturbate. Every. Single. Morning. 

Then he hears it. The first soft moan. Wakatoshi glances at the time– 6:37 AM. You’re getting a slightly late start today. 

No matter. He lifts his hips, gently rolls down his gray sweats to his lower thigh. He’s already hard. He doesn’t even have to touch himself now to get excited. Your quiet voice and the thoughts of you are enough.

Poor you. You’re unaware that despite residing in a luxurious, single-person room reserved for school athletes, the walls are criminally thin. 

Wakatoshi pops open the lid of the lube, squirting a glob into his warm hand. He throws aside the bottle, barely registering as it bounces off the bed, only intent on listening into the sounds of you and your body. 

When he first grasps his cock, he has to hold back a groan. Despite it being an everyday routine, he still feels the same surge of pleasure as when he first started this nasty habit months ago. 

You're breathing slightly more heavily now, and he hears the sounds of your fingers inserting and exiting your body at a familiar pace. He follows along, carefully stroking up and down. 

He wonders where you’ve learned this from, because you always go at the perfect pace. Somedays, you go slower, teasing yourself, pausing just before you orgasm, but it’s always. 

It’s always exactly what he needs.

God. He knows this is wrong, even as he pumps faster with his left hand to keep up with your quick fingers. It feels so good. 

Next door, you’re beginning to let out soft cries.

He presses his thumb against the tip, holding back a moan of his own as he envisions you jerking him off. 

He’s seen your hand before– extra soft from being in gloves for multiple hours daily as a fencer. 

Thinking about your sport has him thinking about his, and now he’s back to thinking about how wrong this is. But he can’t help it, he’s already tried to give it up once– yielding horrible results. 

The day he held back and skipped a morning fap session with you was also the hardest day of his life. He had found himself unable to focus in lecture, especially grumpy towards Tendo’s typically bearable antics, and worst of all, all his hits were off. 

“Your schedule must be off,” his captain had said, casually tossing a ball high into the air.

“Bad sleep? Rough morning?” 

Wakatoshi had blinked at him wordlessly, wondering how the tall setter had guessed accurately. 

“It’s fine,” the third-year had reassured him, “just get back on track tomorrow.”

With that, Wakatoshi had found himself ‘back on track,’ masturbating with– no, to you– every morning. 

You’re moaning out loud now, almost whimpering. His cock pulses in his hands, veins bulging, growing hotter and heavy. Fuck, he just wants to see you right now. Your cute face, your sexy neck, gorgeous arms... 

He can almost see it now– your smooth thighs shaking and twisting as your small hands would grasp your pillow. He’d make you feel so good, he just knows it. He’d lean against you, kiss your neck and ear before whispering how good you are, how you’re making him cum, how much he loves you! 

You’d cum, and he wouldn’t stop. He’d want to see your eyes roll back over and over again, and he’d memorize every inch of your face.

Wakatoshi holds back another groan. His fisted hand feels so good against his cock, especially as it imagines it’s your tight pussy. 

Contrary to what Tendo believes (the only one to know about this bad habit) it wasn’t just your soft moans and quiet gasps that had him clenching his sheets as he lifted his hips.

He had long fallen for you, since you had first locked eyes with him in the long hallway. 

There was something about you. The way you always smile up at him gently– not in the way that other girls smile at him, as if they want something (usually his number)– but a genuine smile, eyes crinkling slightly.  

This unexpected attraction was only exacerbated when you sat next to him at the first-years’ dinner party. You smelled so fucking good and listened to his words with actual interest, asking him about his family and laughing at his lame jokes.

Unfortunately, he was also scared. 

He had heard about the countless rejections you’d dished out since the first day of university. 

Despite his perceived sexual ignorance, Wakatoshi knew everything there was to know– he was popular, too, in his own right. Tall and lean, there were girls throwing themselves on him left and right. 

But he only wanted you. 

Today, he must be extra stressed (especially with that upcoming psychology exam that he hasn’t studied for yet) because he’s so, so close, yet can’t seem to finish. 

Fine then. 

He leans over, grabs his cell phone. He only does this in emergency cases, which occurs about once or twice a month. 

Swiping up, he’s greeted by his photo gallery, opened the night prior for this cause. 

In his locked gallery awaits dozens of photos of you. 

Obviously none were taken by him! 

Wakatoshi’s a creep, but one with manners and boundaries. 

This gallery is cluttered with headshots of you from the school’s official website, silly photos of you that were sent into the college athlete’s group chat, and his favorite– photos of you from your close friend who sells them to him at fair prices, starting at $10 minimum. 

None are suggestive. But they still rile him up, maybe because the only connection he has with you is through your early morning activities. 

Wakatoshi desperately taps on the newest picture he bought for $40, quadruple the usual price– he can hear your breath hitching, and he knows you’re almost done. 

He wants to finish with you so bad. 

He was going to save this picture for next week, when he knows you’ll be gone for the fencing nationals and he’ll have to cum without you for an entire miserable, dreadful, god-forsaken week–

but he doesn’t care now. Nothing matters. 

It’s a glorious photo– when he heard your friend had it, he had grabbed her by the shoulders and demanded a price. 

You. On the beach. Under an umbrella. Lying on a purple towel.

He had paid an extra ten dollars for the motion picture– so he could watch you go from ass up onto your back, breasts jiggling and cheeky smirk in full action.

That’s enough. 

He holds his fist tight–one more pump and he’s finished, but he wants to make sure you’re cumming first– and he hears it– to his relief, you’re moaning and whispering– “‘m cumming!” 

Yeah, he’s cumming too. His hips lift again, and he drags his closed fist downwards against his wet cock. His vision blurs. 

“Fuck!” 

He can’t help it, today’s orgasm is especially strong, taking control of his full body. He’s shaking, mind barely in control as he continues to slowly pump to ride out the whole orgasm. After all, that’s what you’d do, right? You’d keep riding him, even as he finished and begged you to stop. 

Thank God we came together.

Sometimes, you bait him. More often than he likes, you switch it up, holding yourself back and not allowing yourself to cum before masturbating all over again for an even more powerful orgasm. Those days suck– when he’s already softening, cum all over his large hands, and you’re still going. 

He hears your bed squeak, and he sighs– as soon as it starts, it’s already over.

6:45 AM, his phone reads. Wakatoshi tosses it aside.

Thankfully, he had pulled his phone away in time, avoiding tainting the device with his release. A few times a month, he gets careless and cums onto an open picture of you, causing him to have to run through his shower extra fast so he can leave time to wipe down the device.

Rolling off the bed, he heads towards the shower leisurely. It’s also become a part of his routine to time his shower. It makes him feel even more intimately connected to you. 

Wakatoshi’s grateful you take long showers– you’ve never taken less than 24 minutes to shower, typically, they last about 34 minutes on average. That gives him the time to jump out first and wait to exit his room at the same time you depart from yours. 

Under the heat of warm water, he’s usually consumed with thoughts of you, impossible thoughts, like maybe you know. 

The wall between you and him is equally thin, and your hearing may be as equally good as his…

Maybe you know, and you like masturbating with him. 

And then, just as a precaution, he douses himself with cold water at the end of his shower, and those thoughts dissipate with the steam escaping towards the vent. 

Like everyday, Wakatoshi laces his shoes, sprays on his favorite cologne (that your friend claims you like) and inhales, bracing himself to see you. 

As he hears your feet shuffle, he pushes his door open first, stepping out into the warm hallway.

“Good morning, Wakatoshi!” You greet, eyes brightening. He nods, gulping. That’s an acceptable form of greeting, right?

As the two of you walk towards the elevator in silence, Wakatoshi can’t help but hope that this morning routine won’t be coming to a stop anytime soon. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n and that's a wrap :,) i really hope you liked and sorry the ending is highkey shit LOL as i kept editing i kept adding and removing more and more and honestly that's kind of my biggest weakness:: i'm never satisfied with my work and i'm scared ppl won't like it ... but i'm trying to overcome that!

[mirouie]

roommate!percy blurb because let's ignore that i haven't written anything in a month . . .

the funny scene in the movie should've made you laugh, but it didn't. if anything, it's made you grimace like you're in pain, because it's made percy laugh, and goodness knows what his laugh does to you.

you like percy's laugh. you like the boyish cadence that carries with it, the little roughness around the edges tickling your ears in the best way possible. you like his voice when he talks to you, low and soothing as if his words are secrets meant for you and you only. you like his smile, his eyes, his hair, the way he smells.

you just like him, really.

but he doesn't know that. he shouldn't, he's not allowed to, because he's your roommate. and roommates don't like each other like that, right?

"hey." the single word is a bird's song when you hear it. your eyes snap towards percy's, strikingly blue under the fluorescent glare of the tv. he's so pretty, your brain reminds you, and you forget to listen or respond to him for a second. "... you okay? is the movie boring?"

"what? no." your voice feels weird in your throat when you speak, mouth dry and tongue heavy. it's like you forget how to talk when you're around him, and you want to slap yourself because it's stupid. "no, the movie's not boring, percy. i'm sorry, i wasn't paying much attention.”

"what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, hm?" he taps a knuckle against your temple, the chaste touch feeling like fire under your skin. he inches closer before you can reply, and then his thighs are pressing against yours and you feel close to exploding.

"is something bothering you?"

"no!" silly, stupid. you clear your throat. "i mean... no, no. nothing's bothering me, percy. i'm okay." you wish he'd go back to watching the movie.

percy frowns, a real deep one, as if he's greatly perturbed by your answer. "please tell me, sweetheart. please?"

"i don't like seeing you upset."

you're grateful for the dim lighting, because the blush on your cheeks would've told him everything he shouldn't know.

"i'm not..." you sigh. "i'm not upset."

"then what's going on? did i do something wrong?"

gods, no, percy, you're an idiot! you want to yell, but you don't think it's very fair. you're being an idiot, too.

"you laughed."

percy's visibly confused. you want to run away and hide. "i, what?"

"you laughed. i... i don't like how it made me feel."

his brows furrow like what you said is a serious problem. "you... don't like how my laugh made you feel?"

he chuckles, unsure.

"see, you're doing it again!" you groan, hiding your face in your hands. percy's gone from your sight for all of three seconds before warm palms are wrapping around your wrists, gently pulling your hands away from your face. you feel like exploding again.

"what's wrong with my laugh, honey?"

you don't meet his eyes, you can't. you'll combust if you do.

percy hooks a finger under your chin, tilting it upwards to face him. he's a menace.

"tell me why you don't like my laugh, sweetheart."

"'s not... 's not that i don't like it, it's just..."

"it sounds nice."

the grin percy sports is giant. nothing could've erased it in that moment.

"you're upset because my laugh sounds nice and you don't like how it makes you feel? do you feel good hearing it?”

"stop asking me questions, percy!"

he is a menace, really, because he does what you ask and pulls you into a hug instead, burying his teasing and grinning into your hair.

—

hey so i actually don't like this that much because i think i've forgotten how to write but yeah! sorry if it doesn't make a lot of sense, this is just smth off the top of my head :P i'll write something proper soon though hopefully! xx <3

[injvns]

copy that - na jaemin

wc: 1.3k

notes: this turned from a kun fic based on a song to this thing from my little brain hole. not being able to focus can do wonders sometimes. hope u enjoy ᡣ𐭩

you wake up to the sound of the shower running.

that already ticks you off, knowing jaemin left you to freeze your ass off in bed before you were even conscious. you pull the sheets up past your face, trying to human-hot-pocket yourself back to a warmer temperature.

you've been with jaemin for over a year now, and you still aren't used to the fact that he's an early riser. it's just weird to you, and kind of annoying. you will finally be getting to the good part of your dream, and that is exactly when jaemin's body decides it's time to start the day. you love waking up to him, don't misunderstand, but it'd be nice to wake up to him a little later. 

you hear the blow dryer start, signaling he'll be back to bed soon. painstakingly you reach your arm out from the blanket cave you've created and feel around your bedside table for a good two minutes until you find your phone. maybe you should've waited to open it. the first thing your screen greets you with is a text from your boss letting you know you have to come in later today. it was supposed to be your day off.

now you're plain irritated. 

this was the first day in weeks you and jaemin both had off at the same time. facetime calls and messages that didn't get answered until 3 hours after they were sent were starting to get old. today was meant to be a day spent in the house, together, no interruptions, just you and jaem.  you managed to get it interrupted sooner than it could actually start.

before you can fully spiral, you hear the bathroom door open. you peak your head out from under the covers,

"you gorgeous, gorgeous man and your stupid, stupid sleep schedule."

he smiles that gorgeous smile at you, "good morning, beautiful," he approaches the bed, getting ready to flop himself on top of you, "how'd you sleep?'

"good until i woke up without you, and now my boss wants me to go in." you sigh as jaemin wraps himself around you, "i don't understand it, the company is huge! i cannot be the only one available."

"i'm sorry, beautiful." is the only thing he says, knowing he can't solve the problem, but wishing he could. sometimes you hate that he's the best. you hate that he's more worried about you than upset that your plans together are ruined.

"today was supposed to be about us, jaem." you feel your tears begin to well up, "i just wanted to be with you today."

"i know, baby." he lets out a sigh of his own, "is there any way you can get out of going?"

"i don't think so," jaemin reaches to wipe the stray tears that had fallen from your eyes, "saying she 'wants' me to come in was the wrong choice, she's telling me i'm coming in today." 

your boss is a great woman, you would even consider her a friend, but damn does she exploit the hell out of your friendship. if someone calls in sick, you're her go-to. if someone has a family emergency and needs to leave, you're the one she calls to replace them. hell, if she can't come into the office you basically end up doing her job for her.

"i think i have a good hour before i need to leave." you hate capitalism.

 you get no response from jaemin, only the consistent feeling of his hand smoothing out your hair, that is until he pipes up.

"want me to shower with you?" he winks, it would've been super corny if he wasn't super hot.

"you just showered?"

"offer still stands~"

"okay, then get off me already." 

he takes that as his cue to roll you both over until you are the one on top of him, then lifting you off the bed. he carries you to the bathroom with a newfound determination. as he sets you down on the bathroom counter you ask,

"whats got you so excited?" you can't hide the teasing smirk that makes it's way onto your face.

"always excited to see my beautiful girl's body." he says it so proudly you can't help but hit him out of embarrassment.

"shut up! don't get me horny before i have to leave for work, asshole." there is no bite behind your words.

"sorry! sorry!" he blurts, full of amusement. he definitely isn't sorry.

soft laughter filled the bathroom. for every morning jaemin wakes you up way too early, he makes up for it with a lifetime of memories filled with shining sunrises and dazzling smiles. as you go through the motions of preparing for a day that could've been so much better, jaemin stays with you for each second of it. from washing your hair for you, to drying it as you brush your teeth, to just being there as you get dressed. the day might be time lost, but the morning is alive and well and filled with you and him.  

"wait, pretty, before you leave," jaemin trails off, going to get something from under the bed, "i got us something."

you watch him move in the mirror as you put on your necklace, the one jaemin got you for your 9 month anniversary. he pulls a box out, not small enough to be jewelry, but not big enough to be shoes. it's got your interest piqued.

"come see," he beckons you over softly.

you come up behind him to stare into the mysterious box and see— walkie talkies?

"huh?" confusion covers your features.

"i saw little dog toy ones when i was getting food for the babies, and i just figured it'd be so much nicer to talk to each other at work this way. i know it's still not the same as being together, but i thought it'd be nice to hear your voice whenever i want." he plays with the buttons on the walkie talkie as he talks.

your expression melts into one of pure warmth as you wrap yourself around the man of your dreams. you make sure to squeeze him as tight as you can; it blows your mind everyday that a man this considerate really made his way to you.

"t'ank yu" it comes out muffled into his chest.

he huffs out a laugh, the air comes and floats itself down over the top of your head, furthering jaemin's mark on you. it's not a mark in a possessive way, it's simply a mark that has been left over time. when a love is as deep as the one he has for you, it can't be helped that he unconsciously finds any and every way to connect himself to you further.

after that, you both decide its unfortunately time for you to start your day. jaemin drives you to work, leaving you at the office with a sorry but loving smile. his walkie talkie is pink and in the center console. yours in red and in your bag. he made sure to buy a charger for yours and his separately, 'so you can never get rid of me,' he says.

as you go throughout your day, constant updates from your boyfriend fill the usual silence of your office space. he lets you know when he gets back to the apartment, he lets you know what's happening in the book he's reading, and he lets you know when lucy sits on top of the book as he's reading it so that he'll pet her. you always make sure to give a response back. 

his voice is a welcome sound to your day and one that you hope you hear for all of your days. that feels like something too heavy to say over a walkie talkie so instead you say,

"hey, jaem, i love you."

your hear the line crackle to life, 

"copy that."

[kitten4sannie]

𝔯𝔲𝔫, 𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔟𝔦𝔱, 𝔯𝔲𝔫

“What do I win?” His voice was just barely above a whisper. “What will you give me, bunny?”

pairing: wolf hybrid! san x bunny hybrid! fem reader

genre: hybrid/omegaverse, smut

summary: your boyfriend’s rut has (un)fortunate timing.

w.c: 3.7k

“All of me, silly boy. Everything.”

warnings: hard dom! san (wolf sannie is so mean ><), sub! reader, possessiveness, pet names (sweetheart, bun, bunny, baby, etc), name calling, daddy kink, san has a massive cock btw, degradation/praise, filthy dialogue (i went wilddd), cnc, primal play (ofc), subspace, face-fucking, brief breath play, manhandling, brief blood drinking, biting/marking, face/pussy slapping, size kink, bulge kink, impreg kink, breeding kink, knotting, multiple positions, creampies, cockwarming, dumbification

a/n: this is a major brain rot moment bc goddamn i just wanna be a little bunny that gets eaten up by big bad wolf sannie yk? ughh esp considering san went full alpha wolf mode in that warriors dance performance vid ksksjd. anywayy thank you to “here me out” anon for sending me that primal play ask — i’m sorry it took me ages to post but this is for you bb <3 okay lovelies: put on some mood music, get all comfy in your beds, and enjoy the ride 🖤

song recs: predator by anomy5 (ty haruuu @stardragongalaxy <3), destroy me by mr. kitty, mascara by deftones

Masterlist

➽───────────────❥

You climbed out of the passengerside of your boyfriend’s truck, taking a deep inhale of the fresh air around you, studying your serene surroundings. There were countless pine trees beyond the clearing you were standing in, going on for miles and miles, swallowing up the land around you. It was the perfect place to have a nice, quiet picnic with the love of your life.

“Oh, bunny,” San called out in a sing-song tone, only the tips of his fluffy black ears sticking up past the top of his truck before he walked around the back and over to you, holding a thick pleated blanket and a picnic basket in his arms. He tilted his head, one of his ears rotating slightly in response to a flock of birds that flew past the red-orange sky above the both of you. “Are you ready?”

“Of course I am, pretty boy,” you returned, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips, only for San to let out a small, though obvious growling sound, nipping at your bottom lip, his ears twitching slightly. Holding back a moan, you opened your surprised eyes, your own ears instinctively standing on high alert. “San?”

Your boyfriend’s once furrowed brows relaxed, along with his features, making sure to give you a soft, dimpled smile. His body was beginning to overheat dangerously fast, but he didn’t know if he should inform you yet. He didn’t want to ruin such a nice picnic date. “Yes, baby?”

You blinked your big doe eyes at him. “Are you okay?”

San’s eyes glazed over for a split second, a prick of uneasiness shooting through your body at the sight of it. It was instinctual fear, reminding you of the way things would be if you weren’t civilized hybrids — though, it sent something else through you that you weren’t particularly familiar with.

“I’m just peachy, baby,” San reassured, running a hand through his dark locks, giving you a toothy smile. “Now, let’s have our little picnic.” His smile grew wider, pointed shiny fangs glinting in the warm evening light. “I’m starving.”

You couldn’t quite pinpoint what you were feeling, but did you really need to? Not when slick was already leaking out of your cunt and along your inner thighs. Instead of confronting the bubbling situation, you mirrored his smile, showing off your smaller, more rounded set of teeth. “Me too!”

You had shared some fizzy drinks and a small spread of food on your picnic blanket with San, idly chatting about whatever was on your mind, occasionally going into bouts of comfortable silence, your minds unable to stop focusing on the presence of something that couldn’t be ignored. The scent that was radiating off of San was unlike anything you had encountered previously. It was so stifling, so hot, like fire and ember, burning the tip of your tongue and lighting the wick inside your core. Though you hadn’t spoken about it, you were very certain your boyfriend was in–

“Bunny…” he mumbled underneath his breath, his head angled at the ground so that you couldn’t see how flushed his angular cheeks had become, how his eyes were hooded and unfocused, and the drool that was leaving his lips. “Daddy’s not feeling like himself right now.”

Biting your lip, you tilted your head, grabbing onto one of your elongated rabbit ears and stroking it out of habit. “Are…you in a rut, Daddy?” The low growling that San emitted through his clenched teeth gave you all the confirmation you needed. “I don’t mind, you know.”

“Huh..?” San sat up a bit from his hunched position, tilting his head to the side. “You mean that, bun?”

You nodded your head enthusiastically, your ears flopping a bit from your quick movements. Your eager expression softened significantly, looking at San past your long wispy eyelashes, swiping at your lip and making it glisten with your saliva. “Should we play hide and seek, Sannie? Or how about tag? You win if you catch me.” San was leaning in closer to you, just as you followed his lead, your bodies drawn to one another like magnets.

“What do I win?” His voice was just barely above a whisper. “What will you give me, bunny?” His lips were just barely brushing over yours, your combined breaths leaving you a bit dizzy.

You giggled softly, reaching up to caress his cheek. “All of me, silly boy.” Your fingers drifted along his sharp jaw and into his hair, your gaze lowering to his lips. “My body.” You left a small kiss on his cheek. “My heart.” You held his heated face as your pressed your lips onto his. “Everything.”

Something snapped within San in that moment. He immediately stood up, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, like he would run out of air at any second. You knew your time with your gentle, loving Sannie was long gone for the time being, and you couldn’t have been happier.

“I’ll give you on the count of three to run, baby.” San lowered his chin and looked down at you past his black bangs, a distant look in his glazed over eyes. They were bright red and glowing, his pupils forming into small slits. “Three…” he began gruffly, one side of his upper lip twitching up slightly to reveal a pointy, white canine.

“Sannie…” you murmured to yourself, standing up from the picnic blanket and taking a few steps back, leaves and sticks crunching underneath your feet.

“Two…” he continued in an eerily soft tone, pulling at the neckline of his t-shirt, sweat starting to become visible on his smooth tan skin. San slowly started to hunch over, his heavy, uneven breaths causing a vaporous fog to form in the air near his drooling mouth.

Knowing how incredibly fast and agile San was, especially when he was in such an animalistic headspace, you found yourself turning around and taking off into the forest in an instant, your heartbeat already beginning to thump inside your ears from how fast you were running.

“One…” San exhaled to himself, reaching up over his head and pulling his shirt off, ripping through it with his sudden influx of strength. He leaned back and stretched, taking in a deep inhale, able to smell the scent of your arousal from where he was standing, despite you already putting a fair amount of distance between the two of you. It brought a delighted smile to his flushed face, his eyes forming crescent moons. “You better run as fast as you can, little rabbit, before the big, bad wolf comes and finds you.”

You didn’t know if it was your instinctual fear as prey kicking in that made you take off running first, or the sweet anticipation of getting taken down by your ravenous boyfriend and truly being put in your place. It didn’t matter, anyhow. You knew that once he got his hands on you, there was no going back.

Rough pieces of wood and pebbles temporarily embedded themselves in the soft soles of your bare feet as you quickly scampered through the dark woods ahead of you, too busy weaving through nearby pine trees to realize you had lost your shoes somewhere along the way.

You didn’t stop until you found a particularly large tree, one that was far older than the rest, covered in moss and layers of aged bark, the roots coming out like tendrils and burying themselves underneath the foliage and dirt. Pressing your back against it and making yourself as small as possible, you pressed your hand over your lace-covered chest, feeling your heart pound against your sweaty palm, not very concerned with the state of your somewhat disheveled dress. Not so distant sounds of howling drifted through the chilly night air and into your soft, tufted ears. They twitched slightly, the heat that was pooling in your core multiplying at the thought of what was to come.

San’s past warnings swept through your spinning mind. “Bunny, I’m not in my right mind during that time period,” he said with a concerned, though undoubtedly hungry look in his eyes, “I…end up wanting you so bad that I probably wouldn’t hesitate to take you in any and every way I want as long as I have you to myself…”

Yet, San was usually so gentle with you, so soft when he made love to you, lightly brushing his calloused hands along your body like you were made of glass, his brown eyes brimming with tears, using his lips to imprint echoes of love into your skin.

More wetness leaked out of you as if on command, the pheromones radiating off of San’s overheated body even from a distance sending your brain straight into breeding mode, reminding you that your gentle Sannie was no longer there. He was just a wolf that wanted to ravage you. Despite this, you found yourself wanting him. You needed him inside you. Needed him to pump his cum into your womb and make you his over and over again. It would be just like the story books. He’d swallow you up and and leave you knocking at heaven’s door — and you knew one thing for certain. He was going to tear you apart. Your lips curled into a small smile just as a raspy, deep voice broke your concentration.

“Caught you, little bunny,” San proclaimed in an eerily calm manner, his words interrupted by his drawn-out, heavy breaths, his bare chest rising and falling at a much slower, more deliberate pace than before.

“Wh-what? How?” you squeaked, digging your fingers into the tree, breaking off bits of bark underneath your tight grasp.

“My silly bunny.” San chuckled, shaking his head, getting closer and closer to you. “I could smell how fucking wet that cunt of yours is from a mile away.” His eyes were focused solely on yours, but it was like he was looking through you, as if he was already inside your mind and body — already marking what was his with his presence alone. “Do you want me to eat you up that badly?”

There were times that San teased you, of course, but was always playful. Innocent, even. This was…something else. He definitely wasn’t playing around this time. You knew for certain. You could see it in his glowing, blood red eyes.

You nodded your head, pressing yourself back into the tree, finding it hard to swallow. You wanted him bad. Needed him.

San took a step towards you, twigs snapping underneath the weight of his heavy feet. “Now, now, sweetheart. You have to use your words for me, okay?” He ran his tongue across his large incisors, titling his head to the side. “You’ll let Daddy have a taste of his cute little bunny, won’t you? Or are you going to make me take what’s mine?”

“Take what’s yours, Daddy, please, until I can’t take it anymore,” you requested, your words and sad, pathetic whining sending San into a deeper, more animalistic headspace, revealing it to you through the quick lunge he made in your direction.

Suddenly, you were forced down onto your knees, San’s large hand pushing your head down until you were eye-level with his crotch. San took your hand and led it below his belt, letting you feel what was trapped inside, his rock-hard cock throbbing against your trembling fingertips. He gave you a small pout, almost making you forget about your position until he spoke. “See what you do to me when you act like a needy cock-hungry slut, little bunny? See how hard you make Daddy?”

“Yeah, I see, Daddy. Your cock’s so hard it probably hurts, huh?” you mused, giggling a bit, your amusement cut short when San took ahold of your floppy bunny ears, gripping them tight enough to make you whimper.

“Y’know, you’re doing a whole lot of talking when you should be choking on my cock instead, bunny,” San informed, popping his belt open and letting his pants pool below his waist, his overtly large length slapping up into his abdomen and leaving a streak of pre-cum across his tan skin. Before you could have a chance to breathe, San jerked your head towards him, sliding his cockhead past your lips and plunging himself down your throat, not taking a second to face-fuck you like the fate of the world depended on it.

Slick, indecent sounds began to erupt from your occupied throat, along with your loud, erratic gagging, as you tried to swallow San’s cock without choking each time he rammed it down your esophagus, your eyes becoming wet with tears.

“Aww, is Daddy’s cock too big for my bunny’s tiny throat? Guess I need to stretch it out,” San sighed, squeezing his fingers around your soft ears as he fully plunged himself into you, holding you completely still, briefly plugging your nose up with his free hand, just to feel you struggle to breathe, your abundant saliva dripping down his swollen balls. San held you like that until your face grew red, eventually letting go and pulling out all the way to let you take a much-needed breath, just to slap his heavy cock down onto your face, rubbing streaks of his pre-cum into your skin. “Good girl.”

“Thank you, Daddy…” you whispered in a gravely voice, throat wrecked, barely able to see him past your watery eyes, weakly licking up his pre-cum when he rubbed his tip across your lips.

“Open wide.” When you didn’t open your mouth right away, San’s expression darkened, sending a quick, rough smack onto your cheek, growling, “I said, open.” Your lips parted just as a fresh wave of slick dripped down your pussy. With a satisfied grin, San plugged your throat back up, clutching your head on either side, pistoning his hips, quick and rough, reminiscent of a machine going into overdrive. He fucked your face like you were just a hole for him, nothing more, nothing less, and you couldn’t have been more wet. “Ohh, fuck– Oh god, that’s fucking it. Daddy’s gonna knot your slutty throat now, bun. Gonna fill you up with my cum until you drink down every last drop.”

You gurgled on his rapidly moving cock, his knot stretching your throat open until it was there was a visible protrusion in your neck, San’s fingers immediately feeling it up once he locked you in place, his knot bursting, sending ropes of thick, scalding cum down your throat, forcing you to gulp it down until there was no more.

“What a good bunny you are. So obedient when you’re getting used by Daddy like this,” San praised, wiping remnants of spit, tears, and cum from your fucked-out face, giving you a oddly gentle smile, before pushing you to the ground and climbing on top of you.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you murmured, your voice hoarse from taking his cock like you did, so out of it, you didn’t even react when San ripped your thighs open, causing your dress to pool around your waist, your throbbing pussy on display for him.

San began to drool, hyper focused on the sight of your bare cunt glistening with excess slick, a low groan leaving his lips. “What a slutty little bunny you are, not wearing any panties under your cute little dress.” He ran his hand down your abdomen, his nails leaving light red marks on your skin until he got to your center. “You must’ve known Daddy was going into a rut and just saved him some time, didn’t you, my sweet girl?”

“Y-yes, Daddy.” You sniffled, swallowing roughly, still trying to recover from the abuse your throat took.

“Mm, thought so.” Lifting you up by your hips with ease, San forcefully brought your pussy to his face, taking a deep inhale of your arousal, leaving harsh, warm breaths on your clit, making you shudder. “Fuck. It smells like you came already. Is my bunny that much of a cock whore, that she had her eyes rolling back into her skull just from having her face fucked? Hm?”

You gazed up at him from below, gently rubbing your still stinging cheek. “Mmhmm.”

“Good. Get ready to cum again and again for me,” San announced, licking one long stripe up your cunt, from your hole and up past your clit. He swallowed your arousal down, licking at his lips, before lowering your hips down to his level, guiding his cock to your entrance.

Suddenly and without warning, San shoved himself inside you with one powerful thrust, bottoming out in an instant and leaving you with a dizzying feeling, your thighs trembling against his slim waist. “O-oh my god…”

“Don’t worry, you’re gonna be seeing God once I fuck your whore-hole wide open, lovebun,” San cooed into your ear, putting most of his body weight on you so that you were folded in half, giving you no choice but to take his fat cock in your tiny hole, over and over, until you were indeed, at heaven’s gates.

-

You couldn’t remember how long you had been there, being forcibly spread open for your ravenous boyfriend, his teeth latched onto your neck and drawing blood, your legs, like jelly, trembling profusely as they were held up by your flopping ears, your cum-filled pussy stretching open to accommodate yet another one of San’s knots, fresh tears running down your flushed face.

“Awww, are you crying, baby?” San asked into your ear, his deep voice dripping with faux pity, licking your blood off of his incisors. “What are you crying about, huh? Is it because Daddy keeps fucking his cum into your tiny bunny hole or because of his teeth marks in your neck?”

“B-both!” you cried out, dropping your head back into the foliage beneath you and closing your eyes once San was finished pumping his load into you. “Can’t take it anymore…”

“Oh, yes, you can.” San angled his head down, pursing his lips to send a wad of spit down onto your reddened pussy, immediately slamming his hand down onto your swollen clit. “This cunt belongs to me. No one else. That’s why I’m working so hard to fill you up with my pups, silly bunny.” He smacked your cunt again, harder this time, leaving it stinging, speaking through gritted teeth, “So, I can do with it as I goddamn please. You got it?”

Your nods gave him the go ahead to continue, pulling out to switch positions again, moving your limbs and body to his will until you were on your hands and knees for him, your cum-drenched cotton tail twitching as you took him back inside. "After all this, you still have such a tight fucking cunt, god– you gotta relax for me, bunny, you gotta let me in," San groaned out, looking down to witness the way your hole struggled to stretch around his wide cockhead.

San bred you like the bunny you were, fucking you so viciously, so relentlessly, he broke your mind, just like he was about to do to your bruising body, forcing you into a mind-altering state of bliss.

“It’s so good! Fuck, Daddy, nnnngh–it’s so good!” You began to press your hands down onto your lower abdomen just to feel how prominent the bulge of his slick cock was inside your tummy each time it slammed into your cunt, convinced by the lewd squelching sounds you heard that you were going to have his pups sometime soon. “Your cock’s so heavy inside…it’s gonna break me.”

“Oh, sweetheart, if you break, i’ll just put you back together,” he huffed out, quickly wrapping his thick arms around your abdomen to place his hands over yours, pressing down further, his body flush against your smaller one. “And do it all over again.”

“Fuck–yes–” was all you could verbalize after hearing his heavy handed words, staring down at the ground below past your wet lashes.

He suddenly slowed himself down so you could feel every inch of him inside, the muscles in his abs tightening as he used his core to simultaneously keep himself steady in his bent-over position and your body fitted against him, his cum-covered cock lodged inside your cunt like it’s missing puzzle piece. “Fuck, you’re squeezing me, baby. That sounds good, huh? The thought of me breaking you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, your eyes starting to disappear underneath your heavy eyelids, only for them to grow wide as soon as San lifted your body up completely against his, holding you by your neck, drilling his cock into you at a new angle, one that forced to you drop down onto him even heavier due to the basic laws of gravity.

“Good, now take my knot, pretty girl,” San huffed, his fingers slipping into your drooling mouth, holding his other hand securely against your lower abdomen, feeling just how full he had made you with his potent seed, shooting more and more ropes of cum once his knot broke, feeling your arousal leaking down his softening length. “That’s it now, that’s a good bunny…”

Your shaking body eventually relaxed against his, melting into him, not able to give anything else. Sensing this, San pulled out and turned you around to face him, pulling you into his lap and back down onto his cock, not to fuck you again, knowing you would actually fall apart if you did, but just to warm him and keep his seed inside so that you would be nice and full for him in the coming months. “My sweet girl, you did so well for me. So, so well,” he murmured softly, pressing kiss after kiss onto your face and lips, gently massaging your bunny ears. “How do you feel, baby?”

Smiling tiredly and ready for a long nap, you wrapped your arms around his neck, giving him a long kiss back, before resting your head on his sweaty shoulder.

“Full.”

➽───────────────❥

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2023.

run rabbit run taglist <3

@anyamaris @senpai-of-doom @abcdefgiwsmcty @raccoons-minors-leave-me-alone @spookybite03 @sansluvr @hwa-whiskers @felixsramen @plutoneu @ateez-himari @johnghoe @replay-by-shinee @Nullahbebe @xnoelle127x @urlacuna @iwishiwasrichasfuck @icyb3rry @zontworryboutit @xloveswirdx

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[amongemeraldclouds]

Down Bad

Theo runs to the Astronomy Tower to confess his feelings for you before it’s too late.

Theodore Nott x f!Reader

Warning: fluff, no use of y/n, kissing. Inspired by the Taylor Swift song with the same title. The first paragraph may sound grim, but I swear this is a fluff piece!

✿ Masterlist | 762 words

Theodore Nott had really screwed up this time. His lungs burned and his heart pounded as he raced towards the Astronomy Tower where he was about to lose the love of his life. If he was too late, you would never know how he felt. Let alone have the future he wanted with you. No, he can’t think that way.

He allowed himself a moment catch his breath when he reached the top of the Astronomy Tower. When he saw you looking out beyond the ledge, his worst fears were confirmed. He ran towards you and grabbed your waist, holding tight as he walked backwards. You yelped in surprise, struggling against your unexpected assailant.

The struggle sends you both toppling down the floor, away from the ledge. You squirmed beneath - oh, Theo. Your breath caught in your throat when you realized he’s on top of you. Salazar, everything about him was so beautiful. You kicked yourself internally, willing your brain to catch up with your heart.

“What in Salazar’s name, Theo! What are you doing?” You seethed, angry and confused. You had been avoiding him for a week since he broke your heart. Picture this: you finally mustered up the courage to confess your feelings for your childhood best friend only to be met by silence - not even rejection, just silence. Like your feelings were not even worth his words. And now he tackles you?

“No, I should be saying that to you. What are you thinking jumping off from the Astronomy Tower? You can’t just leave me before I tell you that I love you too.” His intense gaze burned into you.

You blinked at his words, confused. “Pray tell, dear genius, what does one do at the Astronomy Tower?”

It was his turn to blink back in confusion. He looked off to your side and noticed your telescope and scattered instruments. He was too stunned to speak.

“I was doing our Astronomy homework, you dolt, which you would know about if you weren’t busy skiving off with Mattheo.”

“But Pansy said you’ve been depressed lately and was alone in the Astronomy Tower,” he thought back at the conversation. Sure, you had been down bad for him and because of him this week. You couldn’t even get through quidditch practice without crying and cursing his name.

And yet - “So you just assumed I’m going to throw my life away for you?” You scoffed. “I’ll get over you someday, but I don’t know how you’ll ever get over yourself,” you teased. It was adorable how his cheeks blushed in embarrassment though you hated how quickly your anger faded.

He buried his head into the crook of your neck to hide in shame just like all those times you’ve cuddled together. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders out of habit. “I didn’t know what I was thinking,” he admitted. 

“So there is hope yet for you and your ego,” you mused before your mind snagged on the rest of his words. “Wait, did you tell me you love me?”

He raised his head and looked back at you, “I did. I’m sorry I froze when you confessed your feelings. You deserved better. I’m not good with these things, but for you I will try. I love you. Ti amo così tanto.”

“Well, you already know how I feel,” you deadpanned, trying to channel your teenage petulance despite the warmth blooming in your chest. 

“I don’t get to hear it again?” He asked with a hopeful expression.

“No,” you replied, tilting your head away from him though you couldn’t hide the grin on your face.

“Too bad, I was hoping to kiss you after you said it.”

You looked back at him, returning the challenge, “kiss me and maybe I’ll say it.” 

So he did. Electric bliss shot through you the instant your lips connected. His lips were soft and warm, the taste of cigarettes and mint mingled together as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. You gasped at the sensation and he took the opportunity to explore your mouth.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss. It was a hundred ‘finally’s melting together into this one euphoric moment. You ran your hands through his hair, needing him closer. Needing more.

The kiss was over way too soon as he propped himself on his elbows to look at you. He saw everything he needed to know in your expressive eyes. Still, he asked, “will you tell me now?”

“No,” you bit back a smile.

“Guess I’ll just have to kiss you more.”

✿ Masterlist

A/N: A literal Down Bad moment with Theo tackling you bahahaha.

[princesssmars]

thinking of karlach who once her engine cools off goes fucking ballistic. nsfw, fem! reader, me being horny for karlach because who isn't. baldur's gate 3 spoilers! i've only finished act one so i start improvising shit.

now, for a woman who has not been able to have even a hint of physical contact for ten years, you have to give her her flowers with how well she seems to deal with being incredibly emotionally and sexually frustrated.

but once she joins your party that hold she had over her body and brain starts to crack. fast.

hell, it started happening before the two of you became romantically involved. while she was drawn to you from the moment you said "yes" to helping a stranger kill a building full of people, she also had eyes and constantly wondered how everyone in the party was so attractive. astarion was never not flirting with someone, wyll was incredibly kind to her, and she could tell when shadowheart was admiring her physique...

but after a few weeks of traveling, fighting, and making friends for the first time in years, eventually during those quiet nights at camp she finds you invading her mind her mind when she rests in her tent to fall asleep, kind of like the parasite, but in a good way.

she thinks of a joke you you made when the two of you were eating by the fire that made her snort like a pig, the way you explored a dungeon and when you found a magical war axe immediately turned to her and gave it to her with a smile, how you so quickly stood up for her when wyll was adamant on killing her because of her past.

your kindness, your intelligence (she's amused when you act like a dumbass and fail when trying to persuade someone), just everything about you, it was only a matter of time before she asked you to join her when everyone fell asleep one night, talking about how you thankfully return her feelings. it takes a turn when you bring up how her condition leaves her pent up, and as you're whispering the sinful things you cant wait to do to her and she do to you.

it hits her full force that oh, she does actually want to fuck your brains out.

after that night everything you do starts to turn her on. like, horrendously. eating a snack on the road? all she can focus on is the way your lips move around the fruit. dancing to a song volo is playing? she's becoming entranced by the way your hips and arms move to the music.

once when the sun was set and the moon was high she headed down to the lake, figuring the rest of the party had already cleaned themselves when she started to undress on the sand, standing still as a statue when she spots you in the middle of the lake, rinsing out your hair when you turn around to look at her.

she can see the water falling from your hair to your shoulders, dripping down over the peak of your nipples, some falling down your chest to between yours legs-

when she comes back later after running off, the ground where she stood was scorched.

but until her engine got fixed, her nights were spent inside her tent rubbing at her clit and fingering her cunt while pretending it was you. the only thing that makes it better is when she can tell you about all the naughty things she thinks about you and seeing you squirm.

once dammon gets another piece of infernal iron and gives her the final upgrade she needs to have physical contact, she at least has the courtesy to take you to a rented room in an inn before she ravages you.

shes tossing you on to the bed and wondering if she should slow down, take it slow with you for your first time together to make it all the more special, but you're staring at her while she's contemplating and youre taking off your top and then youre pants and then youre pulling her by the arm on top of you and she realizes she can save the softness for later.

there's so much kissing, pulling, biting and moaning that after both of your first two orgasms she starts to feel dizzy. she swears shes never felt a greater pleasure than when you were cumming on her fingers, or when you brought her hips up to your face and made her ride your tongue.

she reaches down to your bag that was throw haphazardly on to the floor earlier and finds the toy you bought, the tiefling smiling so brightly her fangs are on full display as she aligns the double sided dildo with your entrance, nearly going cross eyed at the way it slips inside of you before she sticks the other end into her.

she throws your legs over her shoulders, hold your hands in hers, and starts thrusting so quickly its almost like she's afraid she'll die if she stops.

and she is. she has never felt as good as she does in this moment, fucking the toy into you before feeling it do the same to her every time she pulls her hips back.

shes thinking about how much she loves you when she feels your right hand claw at her back.

shes wondering how someone can be so damn beautiful when you arch your back and nearly scream out her name.

she can barely contain herself when she thinks about how she gets to fuck you like this for the rest of her life when her hand leaves yours and grabs onto the wooden bedpost.

your moans of ecstasy reach a pitch and her eyes are taking in every detail as you come undone, to the heaving of your chest and the fluttering of your lashes. its your gentle whisper of her name and a gentle kiss to her lips that tips her over the edge, grinding her hips faster to the point it starts to hurt and she feels her hands tightening and tightening-

her high feels like it lasts forever before she comes back down to earth, breathing heavy with a dopey smile on her face when she looks at you. she's confused by the look on your face, similarly blissed out but your cheeks are bunched up in that way that means youre trying to hold in a laugh...

its only then she starts to feel it : a large chunk of the headboard is in her hand, snapped almost clean off from the rest of in im the height of her euphoria. she cant help but laugh which makes you finally laugh which just makes you laugh harder.

she drops the wood and shakes her hand of any splinters when your hands are wrapping around her neck and pulling her back into you.

she doesn't feel that bad about it.

i've resorted to getting ideas from both dreams and those thoughts you turn into stories while trying to go to sleep im like a genius. i put this in the queue posted it and it only showed up on my blog whats with that.

[sevs-corner]

Tf 141: Price and his marriage problems with you

Angst to comfort 'cause I just can't deal with leavin' it hangin' and being angry at the writer (me) for just endin' it like that Playlist Inspo: Yaur, it ain't a song but a whole ass playlist 'cause we in for a hellavu ride *fire sound effects*

Price just sometimes gets too prideful for his own good, his bravado taking the step forward instinctively when it comes to serious conversations involving you.

Deep down, he always wants what's best for you-- for you and him together as partners.

But that sometimes doesn't get translated in the way you would understand his intent, and this is proven true once again when he comes to learn that you driven home drunk after a night out with your friends.

"You could've gotten hurt."

Price, whenever in an argument with you, would never shout. That to you, speak volumes from the way he positioned himself to a wide legged stance, arms crossed to the way his icy glare seeped into the words coming out of his mouth.

But you've had enough of it.

"Well, you look like you could care less." You huffed out, slamming your front door closed and tossing away your shoes.

"Care less?" He hums, one eyebrow raised as he takes in your disheveled appearance. "Then my texts asking where you were and offering a ride home are just nothing to you?"

"No!"

"Then tell me," he steps closer but you step back. "how does it look like to you?"

This feels like he's cornering you, badgering for an answer he wants to hear and not about how you feel-- but you just can't seem to gather the courage to speak on it, after being denied of such things for so long.

So you bit your lip, backing up so far with your arms wrapped around, that you hit your back on the door-- and you had half a mind to run away from this, from everything, and most of all-

From him.

Price sees the panicked look on your face and feels his hand tucked under his armpit twitch, but his rational brain stops him-- knowing that if he let his inhibitions go right now, he'd see you hurt even more.

"Darlin'," he softly calls out this time, "tell me." But the demand remains the same-- and for a moment this made you believe he'd finally get the point and ask how you feel.

About him. About how this relationship have crumbled into.

"Y'know what John," you scoffed, "you wouldn't understand anyways."

He feels the ire grow from the way his hairs stand on end at your dismissiveness, your unwillingness to give an olive branch and just let him help you.

"Tell me anyways." He insists and you couldn't help how you obviously rolled your eyes at his one insistent dialogue option. Persistent in his ways of getting you to talk.

"And I said," you growled, "you wouldn't understand nor care to anyways!"

"THEN FUCKING MAKE ME!"

He cracks.

You crack.

And something inside both of you does as well.

Like a snap of a cord, the tension in its high rise grow cold.

Silence permeating the area you once found comfort in and called- "home."

Price sees the terror in your eyes and he just fucking knows he fucked up.

Fucked everything up just because he broke first-- snapped too hard at someone who held so dearly, but has now broken himself.

And he's panickily trying to fix it. Fix you. Fix each other.

His deepest nightmare coming into reality, the side of him he tried so hard to keep from you resurfacing, the acknowledgements of his faults getting the better of him as he you stare each other soullessly-- eyes not showing the same spark it did the first time he took you out.

Price knows he gets scary and unreasonable-- its part of his identity and how he deals with the other aspect of his life that he tries so damn hard to keep away from you.

Yet here it is- making its appearance in the worst. fucking. time. possible.

The silence is now broken with a sob coming from you.

You, who is unable to take in the state of the proud John you know and love now look to utterly destroyed from the one sentence leaving his mouth.

And the fact that its now out there, speaking a thousand emotions behind the four words he released in desperation.

You do love him. You love John so much sometimes it hurts to see him hurt you.

You're so damn frustrated with yourself that you can't handle being hurt by the man you love- you feel so pathetic, unable to take his concerns guised in criticism, his messages of tough love behind the formal texts on your phone, his small actions of appreciation from respecting your space and letting you breath after another argument.

"Are we done for John?"

You ask, through hiccups, forcing the matter on hand-- one of which you both desperately avoided for so long.

You wait.

You could hear the air still once again, it taking a chokehold on you, making you more desperate of the deprived oxygen.

You hear him shuffle to you.

The arms you previously wrapped around yourself were now around someone else, a different set now covering your own torso.

"My love," he chokes out, a soft "...Please" is all that he could manage.

"Please what?" You, yourself could barely respond but you knew you had to. He had to as well.

"Don't..." he sighs, head falling onto your shoulder. "...don't say such things."

"Why not?"

He feel him still.

"Tell me John."

He feels your position now. Vulnerable, wounded, and cornered without a choice.

"I'm sorry," he finally says with his chest heavy, "I'm so sorry my love, please."

He grabs your face desperately, hands now cupping your face instead of your waist.

And you could just see- how equally broken this man is.

You never saw Price cry, but that one time he slotted that ring on your finger and finally called you, 'his.'

But this... this is completely different.

From the way his eyes are dilated, not in love, but in genuine distraught. His hands shaky, not in nervousness, but anxiousness. His hands soft, not in care, but of fright.

If this is destroying him, then it did for you too.

Price continues to beg and plead, wiping your tears and dismissing his own. It doesn't matter if he can taste his salty tears and snot-- you just mattered more, and refusing to just stand there and watch you cry.

With a shaky breath, you finally raise your hand to his hand softly grabbing it and Price thinks he finally got to you.

But you pull it away.

Instead, you pull in downward and intertwine it with yours, slightly swinging it between you.

"John."

You call out and he opens his ears, replies, anything to get you talking--, "yes my dear?"

"I'm hurt."

He's about to ask why, where, how-- he wants to know everything.

"And I think I'm hurting you... well, more like us."

He shakes his head, disagreeing immediately.

"Darling, no." He fumbles his words, "its me- I'm hurting you, hurting us, and I-."

"No, its my fault."

"No, its mine."

"No, I just sometimes can't take it."

"Then its me! I'm at fault."

But you both insist and it seems endless until you both run out of breath again, yet... your intertwined hands persist. Grip so tight that you wouldn't even think of letting go.

This...makes you laugh, a soft one, and John swear he could hear bells ringing again.

You test it and try to pull away but he doesn't let you.

You giggle again and its infectious that Price couldn't help doing it as well.

"Why..." his chuckles die down but a smile stays painted on his lips, "why were you laughing?"

You shook your head and continue swinging your hands with more energy, "don't know..."

"But," you raised your head- eyes connecting once more, "this is just so silly."

"Silly?" He scoffs, so confused at the how quick the emotions are changing.

"Silly." You insisted but end of sighing, hands slowing down.

"I think," you began with your voice down back to a whisper, "we should be honest and talk."

Price immediately nods in agreement and adds a, "and take a step back?" And he does this literally too, making you chuckle.

Realizing as well at how cold the room has been, contrasting the warmth of your hands.

"yeah..." you mumble and unconsciously reach out for him again. "let's try... again?"

He reaches for you but this time, his grip is soft as if he was ready to let you pull away again.

"Together."

A/N: gonna be makin one for the other boiyos too so... part 1/4? :>> Masterlist for my other works here!