#today in the kitchen i was cooking and they came in to do something and then started discussing their hickeys and i was like hey stop.

[g4rvez-r3id]

spencer reid request: spencer and reader have been trying to get pregnant for a while, but lately reader's been stressed about how it's just not happening for her, and with valentine's day coming up, spencer decides to help reader de-stress and relax. you can make it as smutty or as purely fluffy as you like <3

you got it, rucha! thank you for being my first request <3 sorry if it’s not what you envisioned babe, i really tried for you (requests are ONLY OPEN to my MUTUALS rn until i get the hang of requests!)

Love Of My Life

Husband!Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: You’re fully expecting to spend Valentine’s Day alone with year with your husband on a case. To your surprise, he comes home early and wants to help you destress, especially with you two trying for a baby. But little does he know, you have some news that’s going to change his world forever.

Category: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: 18+ MDNI established relationship, valentine’s day themed fic, surprises, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of trying for a baby, love love love, fluff fluff fluff, kissing, mentions of having a baby, smut warnings: soft dom!spencer reid, fingering, use of the word ‘ejaculate’, breast play/slight nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie (that should cover it)

Author’s Note: happy valentine’s day my lovelies! please enjoy a fluffy smut with spencer reid <3

Of course you had to work on Valentine’s Day. You were the one who wanted the demanding job and your own money spend, you were gonna take all the hours you could get.

And then you thought about it. Maybe that’s why it wasn’t happening for you. Maybe you weren’t relaxed enough, maybe a lot of stresses had to do with the reason you weren’t getting pregnant.

You and Spencer had been trying for a baby for six months now and so far, nothing was happening. And every time you hoped it was different and felt a flutter in your stomach as you took a pregnancy test, you were always disappointed when that stick came back negative. You were starting to believe that motherhood just wasn’t in the stars for you. Which was sad to think, since you knew Spencer would be an amazing father. You’d seen him with his godson, Henry. Spencer had assured to you time and time again that if it could happen, he was happy with or without kids as long as he was with you.

But then while he was gone on his case, you discovered something and you’d yet to tell him.

Today was Valentine’s Day, the most romantic day of the year and Spencer wasn’t able to spend the day with you because he’d gotten called into a case a few days prior. You told him it was okay, since you also had to work a long shift that day and that you could celebrate a day later if needed.

Now, your shift ended and you honestly kinda looked forward to going home to an empty apartment and stuffing your face with chocolate he’d sent you and watching romance movies. It wasn’t the Valentine’s Day you envisioned but it was something, at least.

You had finally gotten home and had been in the middle of removing your shoes and your coat and scarf when you noticed something on the ground. You bent down and picked up and examined a small rose petal on the ground and looked down and saw that the floor is covered in them and that they’re leading a trail into your kitchen. And that’s when you’d smelt something.

Cooked food? You frowned, wondering what that wonderful aroma was as you walked slowly towards your kitchen and your jaw drops when you see Spencer standing there, fixing the bouquet of flowers on the table and you notice that he hasn’t seen you yet.

“Spencer?” You ask, making his jump up at the sound of your voice and almost knocking over the flowers but luckily catching them before the vase full of water fell over.

Spencer then stands straight and pulls a strand of hair behind his ear in nervousness as he meets your eyes with a small smile. “Hi.” He greets and you look around.

He’d decorated the place nicely. Heart balloons, flowers, dinner waiting for you on your table and he’d gifted you a basket with a small teddy bear and your favorite snacks. A smile forms your face as you walk towards him.

“I thought you were gonna be gone.” You tell him. He shrugs simply, “We solved the case. And I wanted to get home to you as fast as I could.” You smile fondly at him, grateful that he can be home. “You couldn’t have waited until I got home and maybe washed this whole day off of me? I feel so ugh right now.” You chuckle as you move your hair out of your face and Spencer back up and smiles. “Don’t be ridiculous, you look beautiful no matter what.” How does he always know what to say?

“I know we’ve had a rough few months with—” He trails off and you know what he means. Since your issues with trying to get pregnant. “But tonight, I just want to help you relax and de-stress. And I don’t want your mind on anything.” You knew what that meant.

You bite your lip in anticipation and lean forward, tugging his face towards yours and you press your lips into a kiss and he leans further, passionately kissing you until breathing becomes a chore.

“Why don’t we take this into the bedroom, then?” You suggest seductively with a teasing smile. Spencer raises his brows in amusement as you take his hand, walking backwards towards your bedroom and pulling him to kiss your lips as you back towards the door.

You don’t even have time to open it, sandwiched in between the door and Spencer as his lips are on the column of your neck, kissing and no doubt leaving hickies behind. He get to your pulse point and you find yourself beginning to unbutton his shirt with your fingers but you can hardly focus when his mouth is all over you.

Finally, you manage to find the doorknob and open the door, flipping the both of you over as the back of his knees hit the bed and you crawl on top of him, kissing passionately and leaving lipstick marks all over his neck, reaching his pulse point and causing him to moan out as you smirk against his neck.

“Wait, wait, wait,” He stops you, pushing you off by your shoulders. “This is supposed to be about you.” You smile at his carefulness with you, how gentle he is, like he always was.

“Well, maybe I want to take care of you.” You tell him but Spencer shakes his head, “You take care of me plenty.” He moves a strand of loose hair from your face. “You’re so beautiful.”

You lean in, closing the gap between you two once more and he is quick to flip the both of you over and he interlinks your fingers together as he holds one of your hands above your head.

You feel as his hand drags down your body, from the column of your neck to your swelled breasts, down your stomach, all the way to his final destination. He sticks his hand to the waistband of your underwear and you feel as he sticks a finger into your slick folds.

You moan into his mouth as he groans, moving from your lips to whisper in your ear — “You’re so wet.” You lean your head over to his and mutter, “All for you.”

He moves his finger inside of you, pushing in and pulling out with a rhythm that’s enough to make you tug on his hair. “Oh, God…” You breathe, gasping as your back arches on the bed and trying to grind your hips into his hand as his thumb makes its’ way to your clit.

You bite your lip to stifle your moans. Hey, your walls were thin! Spencer notices this and shakes his head, “None of that, I want to hear you say my name. Okay, angel? Can you do that?” His motions with his fingers move faster as he waits for your answer. “Oh, Spencer…” You moan out and Spencer smirks against your neck.

“Can you cum like this? Just like this?” He breathes heavily and you whine as his motions grow faster and faster, thumb rubbing your clit and and fingers moving faster inside of you until the coil in your stomach breaks and you tighten your thighs around his hand.

Spencer moved up, looking into your eyes, so full of love and affection and you smile at him, so content in this moment — with him. Everything was always better with him.

“Do you still want to keep going? I’m fine with ending things here, if you don’t want to.” Spencer suggests and you fall in love with him all over again. He’s so tender with you, so loving and careful like you’re fragile glass hanging from the ceiling. He’d stare at you for so long, mesmerized with love for you.

“No, I want to keep going.” You tell, trailing your hand down from his stomach to his belt and then to his bulge underneath his slacks. He flinched a bit and gasped. “Careful there, angel. I might, um, ejaculate too early.”

You chuckle and shake your head, “You’re the only person that uses that word, you know.”

Spencer raises his brows. “Should I stop?”

“I actually find it very sexy, how intellectual you are.” You smirk, laying back as he looks over your dress and then his eyes gaze from your body to you. “May I?”

You nod, breathlessly and Spencer removes your underwear underneath your dress and flings then across the room and as he begins to undress himself, you help yourself out of your dress, only revealing you wearing a pastel bra underneath.

Spencer finally leans himself over you as he gawks at your breasts and can’t seem to take his eyes off of them. Spencer Reid was a boob man, through and through. No surprise there. “My eyes are up here, baby.” You joke and Spencer gives you that sheepish look, like he’d been caught and you swear you see his ears go pink. “S-Sorry.” He stutters. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind.” You smirk as you grab one of his hands and put it on the swell of your breast and you bite your lip in anticipation.

Spencer leans down as he kisses each of your breasts before going to suck on your right nipple and you dig your fingers into his hair and watch as his eyes are on you, blown with lust and you swear you see hearts in them.

Eventually, he relents and backs up to adjust himself on top of you. You look down between you two and you take him into your hand and guide him at your entrance.

Spencer smiles at you as he pushes himself inside of you and in this moment — you both are infinite. Every thrust, every moan, every loving moment between you two is just that. Like you’re the only people in the world right now. Nothing else matters except for this moment. And as you stare into his eyes, his love for you is written all over them. Years ago, you could never imagine yourself being loved the way you are now. And Spencer proved you wrong. Thank God. Because he loved you in any way a person can be loved.

He interlinks your fingers again as he goes slowly and surely, a pace that you’re both content with. Spencer always loved taking his time with you. You whisper in his ear to go a bit faster and your wish is his command so he speeds up just a bit, not too much, not too slow but just right.

Spencer feels as you clench around him and as you tighten around his cock, he gasps, quickly announcing that he’s cumming and tips his head back as he releases inside of you. You could watch him for eternity like this. You couldn’t help it, everything about him was sexy.

He’s there for a moment before he gently pulls out of you and makes his way down to your heat and you squirm once you his hot mouth closes around your bud and you almost want to push him away, due to the overstimulation. “Spence— too much.” You gasp as you writhe in his grasp.

Spencer holds your thighs down and he pulls his tongue away from your body and speaks up — “You can give me one more, angel. Please.” And who are you to say no to that?

You cum with a silent scream and you’re seeing stars. You shut your eyes and fall apart on the bed, the relief of him releasing his mouth off of you is enough to make you tired. Spencer pushes his hair away from his face as he goes to lay next to you.

“I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to overstimulate you.” Easy for him to say. He never let you go to bed without you cumming at least twice. You open your eyes just enough to see him gazing at you and he reaches over, caressing your cheek lovingly. “It’s okay. It’s okay because it’s you.” You say and Spencer smiles to himself and he gives you a moment to rest before needing to go and clean you up, cuddling up to you and holding you in his arms.

“You know, there is some evidence in statistics that there is a slight increase in conceptions around Valentine's Day.” Spencer speaks. “Maybe that could’ve been the one.”

You open your eyes and forget about your news that you’ve needed to tell him. “Um… actually…” You speak, causing him to look down at you with furrowed brows and a confused expression on his face. He studied your facial expressions and sits up in disbelief, still staring at you in wonder. Where were you going with this?

“How do you feel about having an October baby?” You finally respond and Spencer’s eyes widen and his jaw drops and he’s quick to pepper your face with kisses in excitement like an excited golden retriever. You smile as he continues doing so for a moment.

“How long have you known?” Spencer asks. “A week or so now. Doctor said I was about a month in and things are good so far.” You assure to him.

“I love you,” Spencer says. “With or without this, I’d love you, no matter what. You’re the love of my life.” You smile at him as he glances at your stomach and leans down to give your belly a kiss as well and you blush at the motion. How lucky you were to have this man.

“Alright,” Spencer stands, grabbing your hands for you to sit up and he adds for you to get up gently. “Let’s get you cleaned up.“

Again, it’s the just the two of you against the world. And soon enough there will be another one. Fifty percent of him and fifty percent of you. And then it will be the three of you against the world.

This was a Valentine’s Day for the books.

[saddeneddimple]

⊹˚₊𐙚𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔-🍓 ༘ ₊˚.

Genre: Fluff, Smut (this is 18+ content, any interaction below the age will be blocked)

~Spending a nice, quiet Valentine’s Day with your lover. Having a beautiful and romantic day with each other. Throughout the late hours, you both decided to make some chocolate covered strawberries. Leading to a delicious surprise ♡~

Paring: Switchy!Male x Switchy!Afab!Reader

(no names or specific features will be added for the sake of letting you imagine whoever you want it to be wink wink..)

Warning(s): Smut, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), love bites/hickeys, oral fixation, food-related scenario(?), nicknames (darling, my baby, pretty girl), somewhat body worshipping, oral (f receiving), face riding, blindfold/restraints, handjob, praise AND degradation, creampie, mentions of the sounds being made.

song rec (optional): ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🎧 ₊⁺

a/n: this was oddly inspired by seonghwas probable oral fixation. that video drove me INSANE. i mean shii this might as well be a seonghwa related fic. this one is also lengthy, you’ve been warned.

A small sigh escapes your lips, feeling so relaxed and joyous for today’s events. You and your lover were always the type to be more quiet or “lowkey” about your Valentine’s Day related dates. It can range from staying home, cooking dinner together as well as the beautiful gift exchanging, to going to a restaurant and going out to little shops, either window shopping or you both winding up spoiling each other. This year you both decided to stay at home, have a beautiful dinner and just enjoy each other’s company.

In the morning, he surprised you with breakfast in bed, smothering you in kisses as well as getting too excited and spoiling what gift he got you. Throughout the afternoon, you both were on the couch, cuddling as you both binge watched your favorite show, enjoying some snacks in the process.

You kept your gift as more of a surprise, staying quiet but the plan you had in mind always got you excited yet a little nervous, always thinking about how it just had to be perfect.

Throughout the evening, heading towards the later hours of the night; you both were slow dancing in the candlelit living room, giggling at small mistakes, kissing as soon as your bodies were close enough. One of his hands intertwined in yours, the other softly holding your clothed waist, swaying you so gently yet so smoothly. The way he glides in his steps, lining his movement with yours. His gentle moments of separation in order to spin you, just to pull you closer, his velvety lips meeting yours.

His wide, adoring smile never fading away. His tender eyes, a small ember glowing in reflection from the candlelight, but still capable of capturing the infatuation in his eyes. His expression equivalent as if he were looking at a gem he found from under the surface, looking at something so beautiful, so intoxicating, so precious. Holding onto you as if he never wanted to let go.

Still swaying to the music playing off the speaker, you mention what you had in mind, something that was part of your little plan on his gift, “My love, I was thinking; do you want to make some chocolate covered strawberries? I have everything for it.”

His smile still there and his eyes never escaping yours, he nods, “I would love that.”

You both finished dancing once the song came to an end, then hand-in-hand, you walk to the kitchen, your lover following behind you. You set everything to prepare for the treats, melting the chocolate chips in a bowl, washing and drying the fresh fruit, then transferring it to a separate bowl. Setting a baking tray lined with parchment paper, finally finishing it off with two cups of wine. The both of you dipped the strawberries into the liquified chocolate, evenly coating the fruit before placing it on the tray to let the chocolate harden.

A little chocolate got on your thumb. Instinctively, you place the chocolate coated finger in between your lips, cleaning off the little mess you’ve mistakenly made. That’s when you notice him, looking at you when you were cleaning your thumb, his mouth a little agape, staring when your finger landed in your mouth. You smirk at his gaze, enjoying his eyes piercing into you, scanning every inch of your skin, the imagination he follows with it possibly filthier than your actions.

“Is there something you want to say?” You ask, the smirk still etched on your glossy lips as you raise an eyebrow.

His response only being a small groan, his hand cupped your cheek gently, pulling you in for a kiss. You kiss back, inviting yourself to deepen the kiss, following with a teasing bite to his bottom lip.

His chuckle turning dark, growing aroused by your mouth alone. He makes way to the bowl with the leftover chocolate, coating the tips of his index and middle finger, reaching their way to your lips.

“Can you clean my little mess for me?” He asks in his most innocent tone, sending chills down your spine to his soft tone yet his actions are nowhere near innocent or soft.

Opening your mouth, he makes way past your lips, his milk-chocolate flavored fingers covering your tongue. You begin to softly suck on his fingers, your tongue flickering on the tips, licking off the thick, sweet liquid he smeared them with, having him bite his lip to the view beneath him. Your soft moans while sucking the chocolate clean off his fingers. You then open your mouth again, sticking your tongue out, presenting the great job you did.

“Mmm.” He moans softly, “You’re so good, darling.”

Reaching over, you grab one of the hardened chocolate-coated fruit, your hand cupped underneath it, placing it in front of him.

“Here. Tell me if it’s good.” You tell him, the strawberry making contact with his bottom lip.

He opens his mouth, softly taking in the strawberry to his delicate mouth. He bites the fruit, its juice going past his lips, slowly dripping down his chin, all the while his eyes pierced into yours, not separating for a single second.

“Is it good, baby?” You ask in a gentle tone. He nods in response as he licked some of the juice and melting chocolate from his lips. You take your thumb and softly clean the juice that dripped down, softly caressing his bottom lip in the process. You place your thumb between your lips again, licking and softly sucked the juice that was lathered on it.

He grabs another strawberry from the tray, repeating a similar action to yours. The fruit softly caressing your bottom lip, already feeling the chocolate melt a little to the contact of your warm skin.

“Open up, darling.” His tone still soft, but his eyes dark, his lust for you invading his body, his eyes now shifting between your eyes and your plush lips.

You obediently open your mouth, the strawberry gets in your mouth, biting it softly, your lips moistened from the juices and the melting chocolate. His mouth a little agape once again from the view, he watched as you bit into the fruit and looked at him with these innocent eyes, pretending you aren’t thinking the most unholy thoughts about how he is playing with your mouth, part of the gift almost getting spoiled from the arousal. A little smear of the fruits juices and the chocolate was left on your lower lip, rather than cleaning it yourself or letting him repeat your actions with cleaning it with his fingers, he decides to use his tongue to clean the little mess. He softly licks your bottom lip, picking up the little mess right before his lips meet yours, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth, tasting the sweet chocolate and soft tart strawberry.

You both give up on the fruit, his hands now meeting your waist, traveling down to your hips, his fingers tracing your curves on the way. A small gasp comes out of you, hitching your breath to the touch as chills running through your body, making your knees turn into putty.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, your bodies against each other, feeling his hot skin radiating through his clothes. You bite his lip again, breaking the kiss,

“Come with me.” You offer. He doesn’t know how fast your heart started racing, finally able to show part of the gift you’ve been waiting to give him all day.

Chuckling, he followed behind you, holding your hand as you take him to the bedroom, already set with candles, as well as soft red lights that you had from a small lamp, rose petals on the floor as well as a small box you had set up on the bed all the while you both were on the couch, and small occasional “breaks” you’d go on to set everything else up for both safety reasons and in order to time it right.

He tilts his head a little, smiling in awe to the surprise, getting a little excited.

“What is this, darling?” He chuckled out.

Without answering his question, you lead him to the bed, having him sit on the edge. You place the box on his lap.

“Go ahead.” Your hands intertwined, an excited smile on your face, while also growing nervous.

Still smiling, he furrowed his eyebrows in curiosity as he opened the box, taking out a long strip of black satin.

“Give it.” You reach out your hand.

When he gives you the piece of fabric he tilts his head, “What is it?”

Still not giving him any answers to his question, you place the fabric over his eyes, lightly tying it to the back of his head.

A chuckle comes out of him along with a growing smirk, “Oh, this is new.”

You remove your top and then softly order,

“Take off my pants.”

You get his hands and guide them to your hips in order for him to remove the article of clothing you told him to remove off you.

Biting his lip, he reaches to the waistband of your pants, his fingers softly gliding into them, gripping the fabric as he slowly pulls them down. Your fingers running through his hair as he slowly strips your pants off your fragile skin, his hands roaming around the areas that are now bare.

“Nope. Not yet.” You get his hand to move away from your skin, although it made you tremble and the wet patch on your panties grew bigger, nearly wetting your inner thighs.

He whined a little to you not allowing him to touch your skin, but listened to you. After all, it was worth the small amount of patience needed.

You reach over to remove his blindfold, as soon as he was able to see you, his eyes widened, his jaw nearly on the ground as he looked at your figure.

Part of the gift was the lingerie that hid underneath your clothing. The black mixed fabric of both lace and silk covering your most precious areas. A small band of the mixed fabrics gripped your waist followed by strips of fabric going down your thighs, a lace garter hugging your soft thighs. Your panties had small invisible clips in order to easily remove them.

“Can I?” His eyes dart to yours, his question sounding more like a plead, his desperation to touch you being well-known.

Nodding in approval, he pulls you closer to him, your body between his legs. His arms wrapped around the lower half of your body, holding you as he kissed your hips, his lips trailing down your thighs. His hands touching, fondling and gripping your skin, mainly squeezing your hips and ass. Heavy breathing against your skin, kissing your body, his kisses reach to your panties, kissing your cunt over the fabric. Your body twitched to the contact as your heavy breathing began to get shaky.

“You’re so beautiful, my baby.” His kisses around your hips and softly bites to the flesh, your breathing hitched to his teeth.

You let out soft moans, enjoying and relaxing to his hands, lips, and even teeth worship you.

“God, I need you so bad, please.” The whimpering in his tone making you give into him. But not too easily.

“Lie down.” You order.

Without hesitation, he adjusts himself and lies on the bed. You crawl up to him, your body now aligned with his face, he almost instinctively removed the clips, ripping off your panties, and lowered you to his face. His tongue immediately diving in your folds, licking and softly sucking on your clit, tasting your sweet juices. Biting your lip in order to keep yourself calm, you softly moan to his tongue and started rocking your hips, grinding on his tongue, your clit grinding against his nose.

His fingers digging into the skin of your hips and thighs, moaning softly as he keeps devouring you, his tongue occasionally inserting itself inside you, quickly flicking against your soaking entrance.

Panting on top of him, your grinding quickened as you felt your core tighten, the knot getting worse as your sensitivity grows higher.

“Fuck. Fuck.” You mutter under your breath, your eyes shut as you felt his tongue form circles around your clit.

He lifts your body a little, pulling you away from his mouth.

“I want to see the rest of the gift first.” He murmured from beneath you.

A sigh comes out of you as you get off of him, sitting on your knees and reached over for the box, getting into the box to pull out the black leather and chain cuffs.

“Holy shit.” He gasped out as he watched you pull the other part of his gift.

“Take everything off.” You demand as you looked at him.

He gets up to quickly strip himself and lied back on the bed, now more against the bed frame.

“Hands up.” You tell him.

As he puts his hands up, wrists touching, you take each leather cuff and tightened it around his wrists, then chained the cuffs to a metal pole that’s part of the bed frame.

“Oh fuck, baby.” He already moaned out, without having to even touch him all that much.

Without giving anymore orders, you stick two fingers in his mouth. He furrows his eyebrows in neediness as his saliva drenched your middle and ring finger, following with him softly sucking on them.

You chuckle following a lip bite, getting immensely turned on at his submission and desperation. Taking your fingers out of his mouth, you stick the same fingers in yours, tasting a mix of him and your own juices.

“Holy fuck.” He whispered out, not only aroused but also slightly shocked at your behavior.

Leveling yourself better to his hips, you take your fingers out of his mouth and spit on his cock, the slow dribble landing on his wet tip.

With your already salivated hand and the spit on his cock, you slowly start stroking his length, making him twitch to the touch, quietly whimpering to it.

“You like that?” You ask as you start quickening the pace, spitting on his cock and hand to lubricate it more the faster you keep jerking it off.

He nods in return, throwing his head back, panting to your hand, already seeing him pull on the restraints. You chuckle at the neediness as you slowly stop stroking his throbbing cock, making him whimper and even buck his hips up, thrusting into your fist.

“Shhh it’s okay.” You reassure as you get on top of him, straddling him between your legs.

Holding his twitching cock, you grind the tip between your folds.

“Look at me.” You say as you start slowly adjusting his tip to your entrance, teasing the tip.

Looking at you, you see in his eyes the overwhelming desperation he has to be inside you.

“Good boy.” You praise as you slowly insert yourself inside him, stretching yourself as you wrapped your walls around his cock.

The both of you groan as you lower yourself, taking him deeper and deeper until you pretty much sat on him, making him let out a loud and quite a lengthy moan. Slowly grinding on him to adjust a little to his size, your hands lean on his abdomen, looking down at the view of your soft pussy that swallowed every inch of him. Once you adjusted yourself to him, you slowly start bouncing, making his moans get louder as his eyes are closed shut, pulling harder on the restraints.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby.” You moan out as you bounce on him, feeling the tip hit your cervix with every little jump.

Jumping and occasionally grinding on him, you don’t notice that he keeps pulling on the restraints, his knuckles turning white from how hard his hands are balled into a fist. He keeps pulling so hard, the chain gets ripped out one of the leather cuffs, freeing him. Instinctively, his hand went to your hips, holding them still.

Before you could even process the shock of him breaking free of the cuffs, he starts thrusting as hard and as quick as he can, pounding into your cervix with each thrust, causing you to nearly scream. Tears coming out of your eyes as the grip on him tightens the longer he keeps thrusting.

“Get on the bed now.” He orders, completely dominating you.

Without question, you listen to him and get yourself off him, legs shaking as you do so. Handling you like a doll, he puts you on your hands and knees, pushing your head down to arch your back.

“You really thought you were gonna take over that easy huh?” His tone completely shifting from desperation to controlling.

Smacking your ass, “You’re so fucking dirty, my pretty girl. I love it.” He followed with another smack, making your body jolt in reaction, but giggle in an excited, bratty way, enjoying your torture.

“Come here.” He mutters out as he pulls your body closer, positioning and flicking his tip to your soaked and puffy cunt.

Slowly inserting himself again, listening to the soft squelching of your drenched pussy as he gets deeper inside you, following with really slow, deep thrusts. Groaning groggily and loud to his size, his thrusts switch to hard and fast thrusts, slamming into your cervix again, making you nearly scream his name. Your grip on the sheets now making your knuckles white. The knot on your core started tightening again, having you tighten around him.

Hardly able of forming words, you mumble out,

“I’m..I’m close.”

“Yeah?” His thrusts even harder, your cries echoing.

“Cum all over me, pretty baby. Go ahead.” His thrusts punching your cervix making you tighten even harder, your pussy soaking itself more, feeling yourself release over his cock.

Screaming his name and listening to the squelches and skin slapping turn wetter, he keeps going as hard as he has been, overstimulating your orgasm.

You reach your hand to his abdomen, attempting to push him a little from the overwhelming feeling. He pulled himself out, making you twitch and intensely shake, your juices leaking and dripping on the sheets.

He turns you to have you lie on your back, his body between your shaking legs, he reaches over to kiss you deeply, his tongue dominating your mouth.

“You okay?” He asks, his tone so gentle, opposite of his recent actions.

Out of breath, you nod in response, biting your lip.

“I want you to cum inside me.” You confess, your quivering arms wrapped around his neck.

“Yeah?” He smirked, kissing your lips and cheek softly, trailing down to your neck, kissing and biting your sensitive skin, leaving small bruised teeth marks in the process.

He starts adjusting himself again, placing your legs nearly over his shoulder. Without warning, he gets back inside you, gasping to his cock sliding inside you so easily.

In some form of mating press, he starts thrusting hard and somehow feeling deeper than how it felt previously, making you groan out his name, nails digging into his sweating back. His hands sneakily found their way to your throat, softly squeezing it the faster he pounded inside your swelling cunt.

“You’re so good, my pretty girl. Fuck, I love you.” He moaned out, looking into your glossy, teary eyes, your makeup completely smudged and ruined.

“I love you more.” You respond, looking into his dark eyes, watching the sweat drip from his forehead, his damp hair sticking to his skin.

His moans got higher the closer he got, this thrusts sloppier but still very quickly.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” He moans, eyes closing shut as his thrusts slowed and deepened, his hot load shooting inside of you, overfilling you to the brim with his warm cum.

After you both cleaned each others sweaty bodies, you both were in bed, his arm around you, pulling you to his chest.

“I haven’t shown you the last part of the gift.” You say, following a light giggle.

He furrowed his eyebrows then raised one, “What do you mean?”

Reaching into your nightstand, you collect a much smaller box wrapped in blue ribbon topped with an oversized bow, then hand it to him.

He opened it, seeing another box, that looked like it was a ring box, only confusing him further. When he opened the velvet box, a silver ring, lined with sapphires and diamonds was placed on a small satin pillow.

His widened eyes and dropped jaw made you smile wide and giggle in response.

“Look at the ring.” You say in your giddiest voice, almost shaking in excitement.

He pulls the ring out of the little pillow, looking into the band, seeing a small engraved quote.

‘My Promise to You. I love you.’

His eyes filling with tears he just smiled and hugged you tightly, your arms holding onto him tightly, your thumb caressing his back.

“Oh my god!” He giggled out as he wore the ring.

“We match now!” You giggle back, showing your promise ring he gave you, a silver band with a beautiful glistening diamond, wrapped in little sapphires, with the same quote engraved into the interior of the band.

He wore the ring, immediately cupping your cheek, pulling to the softest, warmest kiss. Tasting the salty tears that trailed to his cheek and hit his lip.

>>Happy Valentine’s Day my babies <3. I tried to make this as special as possible and added as much fluff as possible so it can get all romantic before it got slutty huehue.<<

>>I hope you enjoyed this and I hope you have an amazing Valentine’s Day!! Single pringle or with a partner. Love is love even if that type of love is self-love. You’re amazing and always remind yourself of that! And if you want a Valentine. I can be your valentine 💌 <<

taglist: @ourloveforjimin @sugawhaaa

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ ✦

[gullwrites]

sunset thoughts 🎸

A little thing I wrote, that's mostly, like, Klara thinking about life and music and stuff. It's also her birthday. Her first birthday when she's actually able to celebrate with her friend, that is. Because everyone's too busy on Valentine's Day. Anyway, she's just chilling <3

content warnings: suggestive topic mention

Relaxing bath, check. Nothing better than laying in warm water with all the bubbles and some snacks after a long work week and deadlines.

Klara stepped out of the bathroom and took a few steps, stopping by the new vinyl player. She carefully took out the vinyl from its sleeve and placed it down on the turntable, carefully brushing the dust off it with a brush before moving the head of tonearm to the edge of the vinyl and lowering it, letting it do its job. After watching the vinyl for a moment, she took a few more steps and half-sat, half-jumped on the couch bed, then slightly moving to the spot the golden sunlight was shining at.

Tobias peeked from behind the bookshelf. She smiled at the light blue kitchen apron of its, worn over a cream-colored shirt with a fun pattern, and a granola bar sticking out of the apron's pocket. "Hey. Had a nice bath?"

"Mmhmm."

"Good. You look very relaxed. Um, anyway," it quickly turned its head in the kitchen's direction, probably heard something Klara didn't, "What kind of drink do you want for dinner?"

She thought for a moment, thinking of all the possible drinks she'd love to have right now. "What are you cooking?" She still couldn't figure it out based on all the scents coming from the kitchen.

"It's a surprise. But also, something you really like."

"Hm. Are you looking for an already made drink choice or wouldn't mind making something?"

"Both? Whatever you want, honey, it's your birthday."

Would she ever stop smiling at that petname, she wondered. "Uh, um. Do we still have that red wine Leon brought? The non-alcoholic one."

"I think we finished it at the last table-top night. Almost choked on it when Darya asked if her character could fuck the guard to get into that building... But I can check if you want, or go to the st-"

"No, no, don't worry about it. Uh, we still have sparkling water, right? Maybe something like a mix of that and whatever juice we currently have?"

"Of course! The food's going to take a little more time, I'll let you know when it's ready," it said, smiling, and disappeared behind the bookshelf again.

Klara leaned back, smiling at the softness of couch pillows, grateful it had decided not to make the bed today. Something about the soft blankets made her feel safe and sound, laying on them in her bathrobe with still slightly wet hair. Wishing she could just stay here forever, leave all the troubles behind and enjoy the soft, cozy feeling of the couch.

She took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of freshly made coffee and scents of food being made mixing together, floating around the apartment. Listened to the song that was currently playing, thinking of the vintage vinyl player playing her current favorite album.

Both being birthday gifts from today, and the food being a birthday dinner. She had been looking at the exact model for a while now, and seeing it at home when she came from work was not something she could've foreseen. The player was light blue, exactly the color she'd really wanted. Now she only needed to find her paint bottles - the idea of painting sea and clouds on its sides hadn't left her head ever since she saw its photo.

She wondered if Tobias had seen her stare at the store website on her laptop when they were working on their papers together - or at least tried to work on them, and failing miserably at it and instead spending most of the time talking about completely different things - as it was getting them more coffee. Or if she had mentioned it at some point. It's not like it was the first time someone bought her something she wanted, but this player was quite expensive.

Her back feeling a little uncomfortable, she sat up and stretched her arms, then her neck, slightly feeling the tension in her shoulders lessen. She clearly needed that, if not more. It's been a while since she's done that, and the idea of a massage really didn't sound like something she'd want to do. Requires too much trust for an unknown person, especialy when you're slightly paranoid.

Maybe I should just join Tobias next time it was doing its everyday stretches, she thought, laying back down. She could see it - looking through the shelves of their bookshelf - standing by the kitchen counter, slowly stirring something while tapping its foot to the rhythm of the song. It wasn't really what it usually listened to, preferring jazz and synth-pop, but seemed to really enjoy the album. Something about it trying out things she was into made her feel warm inside.

She had talked about the album a lot lately, getting excited at the songs playing on the radio, or seeing merch of it. Thought about buying it as an album, then realizing that she'd probably need a player for it, and getting stuck in a 'should I, shouldn't I' situation about buying it. A problem for later, she thought, when she'd save some more money.

That is, until she came home and saw it wrapped with a pretty, dark green bow. Specifically, a deluxe edition of the album, with a poster and small postcards. Klara looked at the wall and wondered where to stick the poster. Well, now that's a problem for later, she thought and closed her eyes to enjoy the music.

She somehow ended up thinking about last year's birthday, barely knowing anyone in the city she had just moved to, ending up 'celebrating' it at night with Mabel and some of her corporate friends, people she actually bareny knew, if at all. And being on a video call with Måns, him telling her how he sent something to her but the mail is being late.

Or the birthday from two years ago, which she spent most of driving alone outside of the city - with a quick stop in a diner and a cup of coffee by her side - thinking about the mess of a job-studying combo and all the other problems she was going through, spending a few hours sitting in some park, then coming to her and her ex's flat late at night and learning that her ex still hadn't returned from a bar, only acknowledging her existence with a text. At least her friends texted her some birthday wishes.

Spending a birthday with someone she cared about and who cared about her? Not something she was used to.

Tobias didn't seem to care about the day... like it did with most popular festivals. It seemed to prefer celebrating things with its friends instead of celebrating just for the sake of traditions, which Klara related to a lot. She did enjoy some big ones, like New Year's Eve or Purim, but didn't really care much about smaller ones, especially if it's Valentine's day. The emphasis on romantic love the day had always made her annoyed, or how they were forced to make cards for each other at school for the sake of friendships. Not a good day to be born, if you'd ask her. Worst part is, were she born 34 minutes later, she wouldn't have a problem like that.

Every birthday had some kind of compromises like accepting Valentine's Day cards as birthday ones or having to enjoy all the pink, heart-pattern stuff - which she wouldn't mind if it were any other day - or having to hear someone can't meet her on the specific day because they were on a date, or that they were invited to some friends' parties. She felt completely fine with it, everyone has their lives and the selection at the stores is what it is at this time of year. But it did hurt that the day seemed to take a part of her birthday, never really allowing her to fully celebrate her and her birthday only - driving her to not really caring about the day itself anymore and being fine with celebrating it on some other day, if at all.

Hearing her best friend-slash-partner say they could spend it together, and without any overly romantic, Valentine's Day-ish aspects added to it, was not something she could've thought of.

What it meant was a cute, hand-drawn birthday card with a gull on it, the vinyl player and the album, and a fun day overall. A breakfast in bed - a surprise on its own, considering how Tobias's not a morning person - and the post-work relaxing bath, followed by chilling in bed and listening to music as it was finishing the dinner, Klara really loved the idea of just laying down after the hellish day at work. And a nice surprise dinner, which she was now waiting for, as it really wanted to keep it a surprise. Then, after the dinner, they were thinking of an evening spent with board games and mocktails.

She glanced at the moving box the vinyl player was standing on. And maybe we could do some more unpacking. They had moved in two weeks ago, yet haven't really made that much progress, other than building the bookshelf, dining table and setting up the couch. Everything else was still in the boxes due to busy work schedules and the typical grad school fuckery.

Oh, how excited she was for the upcoming two-week vacation she managed to get.

Klara recognized the current song, or at least its end, and slowly sat up, reaching for her bass guitar. She's not the biggest fan of the next song, but the bass solo in this one was just too good - and of course she had to learn it. She slightly swept some dust off the instrument, careful not to rip off the sticker she still hadn't managed to fix yet, and waited for the good part.

She didn't really get to play it that often for last two years - always busy with work or university or whatever was going on, or her ex saying her playing it at home was distracting and annoying. Or not being able to play some of the songs she liked at her previous apartment simply because it was corporate and she was afraid of possible surveillance - a stupid thing to worry about, she always thought, yet never let go. Was afraid to let go? Whatever.

She used to play in a band back when she was in high school, and doing the first two years of her bachelor's degree back in Berkeley. They didn't really make any effort to get noticed, mostly playing on their friends' gigs or at fun events. She couldn't even remember any of the songs they used to play, unless it was something popular or was requested a lot.

But it felt nice to get back into the hobby, even if she was just playing along with some music in the background.

The fingers on her right hand moved on the cold-ish strings, pressing them down at the right chords. Her left hand's thumb pulled the strings - she never really cared about starting to use the index finger instead. She missed the slightly metallic scent on the fingertips the strings tend to leave.

As the song ended, she placed the bass guitar back on its little stand, straightening the belt so it wouldn't stick out. Wouldn't want anyone to get up at night to drink some water and accidentally trip on it.

She looked up and noticed Tobias leaning on the bookshelf again, apron gone this time, the artificial ivy leaves hanging from the bookshelf blocking out part of its face, while the other part was highlighted by the setting sun. "The song sounds better when you're playing along."

"You're just trying to be nice. I haven't played properly for years..."

"No, no, I'm serious. Pretty sure it's because yours is half-acoustic and what they use in the song is electric," it said, walking closer to the bed, hesitating for a moment before deciding to sit down, "It sounds really nice."

"Hmm, maybe, maybe..." she smirked, "You should've seen me with the old contrabass at my parents' house. Now that is a sound."

"We should get one once we manage to move into a bigger apartment."

Klara laughed at the idea, kinda liking it but mostly she just tried to figure out how to place and instrument like that into a rented apartment.

Before she could answer, it added, "Hey, at least it's not a piano. Won't have to bother the people who would end up helping us out with a giant, accident-prone-when-moving instrument."

"God, yeah, that would be a nightmare. Good thing neither of us plays it," she imagined herself annoyingly stopping on every floor of stairs and just banging the frustration out on a piano's keys. "I should teach you how to play a guitar someday. Or bass."

"Oh! Hah, um. You do know I have, like, the worst sense of rhythm, right?"

"I don't believe in sense of rhythm. Practice makes it perfect. It will be fun!"

"Hm. Maybe someday, maybe."

"Of course! And, well, only if you want to."

It looked at her, a wide smile on its face. Klara couldn't tell if it seemed grateful or just didn't know what to say and thus chose to just sit quietly and smile. Once it turned away to get up, it said, "Anyway! The dinner's ready," it stood there for a moment, clearly thinking of something, "That was actually the reason I got up, but then I noticed you beginning to play. Didn't want to bother you and then I forgot about it...."

"Wow, I'm finally going to see your surprise meal now," she said and stood up next to it.

"Yep! And think about it, you didn't even lose to your impatience which you were worried about two days ago."

Klara remembered the conversation they had, her complaining about her impatience and worrying how it will somehow lead to problems, something she always worried about but never really mentioned it before. And how it said that she has nothing to worry about, and her debating that it's wrong. She didn't realize it would actually keep thinking about it. "Aren't you funny," she murmured and gently hugged it, "And sweet."

"Anything for you, Klara," it murmured, "Happy birthday."

[omtai]

paramore was right im always running out of time

[loveanddeepdick]

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅ hi angel!

obsesssed!perv!geto x f!reader || suguru keeps jacking off to you! stop it sugu!

here is a link to my obsessed!geto masterlist this fic is crazy btw pls click off if u get uncomfy

cw and notes: LOWK WRITTEN NASTYILY AND HORNYBRAINED, im gonna be honest its a mess of all the shit i like, kinda gross geto lol, groping, sir kink, dom/sub coded, obsession, unhealthy behavior, dubcon touchin, nudes, indecent exposure but in the comfort of your own home, piv sex, nipple play, creampie, teasing, masturbation, multiple rounds, posessiveness, this is a little insane of me but per the request of deepdick citizens i as your mayor will deliver, not proofead lol

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

geto suguru has no shame.

from the moment you met him until now, he always says everything and anything on his mind. when he first asked you out, he pulled you aside, gripping your shoulder as he bluntly confessed to you.

"we'll have dinner tomorrow. 8pm at nobu," he smiled before patting your shoulder and walking away. you damn near got whiplash as you swiveled your head around, speechless as he just nonchalantly walked off.

but if you thought he spoke his mind without any repercussions, you should've seen what he did to the coworker who was harassing you. he's heard about her during one of your stories about work, crazy customers, unhinged coworkers, careless higher-ups.

she was long gone the day you returned to work.

in a way, he loved that you didn't mind his straightforward behavior , that you appreciated how transparent he was. but with that also came with your nympho boyfriend jacking off anywhere and everywhere in your shared apartment. he walks around with his dick out for fucks sake, and today, you swore he was on some aphrodisiac.

9:14am. friday morning.

you were cooking up breakfast in your shared kitchen, humming as you sipped from your mug. you heard the heavy creaking of suguru's feet on the wooden floor approaching as he yawned. he was inhumanly tall, lanky and skinny yet toned whenever he stretched.

he groaned scratched his stomach underneath his black tank, lifting it up to reveal his dark happy trail.

"morning, baby," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your neck as he leaned down, pressing his chest to your back as he inhaled your scent.

"brush your teeth, su-" you paused as he pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, behind you ears, and the top of your head. you silently cursed, feeling something hard growing against your back. "again, suguru?".

you lightly pushed his head back before he whined and buried his nose in your hair again, inhaling deeplty.

"you smell so good, angel," he was nearly whimpering, his cock growing harder, "please, baby, just let me have my morning fill,"

you bit your cheek to keep a poker face, grabbing bowls for you and suguru before bending over the counter

"help yourself," you playfully sighed before grabbing the pans and plating the food. he grinned, giving you kisses in your hair before pulling your pajamas and panties down, taking his cock out to jack off to your ass. "make it quick, suguru,"

"fuucck, youre so hot, just keep.. keep doing what you were doing," he spat into fist before fucking his dick into it.

"you're such a pervert, suguru," you mumbled, bending over a little more to give him a better view.

"keep calling me that, turns me on," there was hearts in his eyes, watching your cute pajama pants scrunched around your knees as your pussy and little asshole was twitching and puckering just for him.

like clockwork, he squirted white ropes, coating your pussy as it dripped down onto your panties. he kneeled down, pulling your panties up to your cum soaked pussy before he brought a finger up to run it against the crotch area, poking around at his sealed cum against your hole.

"so gross," you rolled your eyes.

"yeah? but you stand there, you take it, and you love it, don't you?" he chuckled, pressing his nose in to inhale as you yelp, making you bend over just a little better as he sniffed in the nasty mix.

with a kiss to your clothed pussy, he pulled your pajamas back up, getting back to his feet with a gentle smack to your ass.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

11:52pm, friday afternoon

you get a text during your lunch break from suguru. what could he need this time? well, you had an idea.

>'hi, angel im otw with some lunch for you'

>'doing what i asked you to, aren't you?'

you hid your blush even though you were alone in your office. there, under your tight skirt and white cotton panties, was suguru's load was pressed wetunder your panties, your thighs squeezing together and keeping the cum warm.

<mhm im in my office

>[video attatchment]

you opened the video with low volume. he was in his car, holding a polaroid of you. he's in the parking garage of the apartment complex with his zipper down, his cock pink and standing tall. the video is only a minute long as he jacks off to your picture, his cock tip nearly touching your face on the polaroid before he cums, covering the entire thing.

what a nasty man.

you hear a knock on your door before he comes in, your thighs instinctively trying to hide your arousal from his teasing words. you place your phone on your desk as he approaches, chuckling at the sight of your not-so-well hidden flustered face.

"what's wrong, angel?" he mocked, grinning before he stood before you, his pointer finger lightly stroking your jaw as you peered up at his form.

his tall, dark form is almost eerie as he leaned down a little to look at you. he had hurricanes in his eyes as they bore into yours before trailing down a bit to your cleavage poking out from your white button-up. what a pervert. even then, it was like peering into heaven after centuries damned in hell.

your arms drift up and around his waist before you embrace his toned figure, your cheek pushed into his sweater.

"my eyes aren't as low as where you're looking, you creep,"

"just means i can focus on two things at once, huh?"

you playfully slap him before he grabs your wrist, pulling you up from your chair and pinning your against your desk, your chest against his ribcage as he peers down upon you.

"missed you so much," he breathed out before his eyes trailed down, his hands coming up to trace your figure, his hands stopping to cup your tits through your clothes as you squirmed and closed your legs, "keep them open,"

his knee came in between your legs, parting them and leaving you. vulnerable to him.

"you been a good girl today, hm?" he chuckled, giving your tits a squeeze before one of his hands travelled down to your skirt, lifting it up to reveal your nearly see-through panties squished up on his leg.

"yes, sir.." you the inside of your cheek to bite back a moan as he began slighly moving his leg up and down.

he guided you to sit on the desk as he knelt, lifting your skirt as he looked at your panties with hearts in his eyes. you leaned back a bit so he could take them off. his fingers hooked both sides of your panties as he slowly peeled.

"ffuuckkk, angel," he hissed as the mixture of his cum and your arousal strung to your pussy as he pulled down your panties, the crotch area gooey and smearing the sticky substance all over your pussy.

you whined as he licked a hard stripe from your perineum to your clit, giving it a loud suck before leaning back, showing you the nasty mix on his tongue before swallowing it with a shit eating grin.

"gross perv- ah, fuck!" you couldn't even finish your sentence before his head dove in between your legs again, lapping at your pussy as he flicked it with his tongue and shoved his face deep between your thighs, using his hands to push them together and trap his face.

"suuguuu..." you whined as you grinded on his face

"use my face, baby, y'taste so fucking good, nobody knows this sloppy pussy like i fuckin' do," he pulled off your clit with a slurp before spitting on it, "say it. say i know this pussy the best,"

"y-you know this pussy the best, sir!" you gripped his long silky hair before your heart dropped into your pussy, "w-wait sir, something c-coming!"

"just let it happen, angel, let go for me, it's gonna feel good i promise," he groaned into your pussy before you twitched, convulsing as you squirted into his mouth. he latched onto your pussy, sucking your clit and messily lapping his touch as he drank your juices.

"so.. gross, sugu,"

"lunch break's over, sweetheart," he chuckled with a kiss after he helped you clean up, "tell your coworkers i said hi,"

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

6:07 pm, friday evening

suguru loves watching you eat. he rarely ever works in person, preferring to have his spirit consultations online (where he loves to scam rich people who exploit others). before you come home from work, he makes sure to make you a nice home-cooked meal or get takeout from somewhere you love.

he watches you eat, savoring each spoonful and gushing on and on about how good it tastes. the small smile on his face looks like little cracks on a china plate. to any other person, it would seem as though his reaction was neutral, but you knew this meant he was ecstatic.

later, you flopped on your bed, landing atop the blankets on your back as you sigh happily from the food. he comes up to you, climbing into bed to sit against the headboard before he reached down and rubbed your stomach lightly with his thumb,

"tummy must be all fun huh, angel?" he chuckled, "should i put on a movie?"

you nod, rolling over onto your stomach as you rest your cheek on your crossed arms, shuffling pressing your side against geto's as he watches you swing your feet in the air a bit.

suguru puts on a horror movie and you groan, realizing it was his turn to choose. you haven't seen this one yet, an old classic thriller probably. some stupid killer on the loose with more stupid people getting killed probably.

he watches you, the way you seem so intrigued with the plot, the way your back moves up and down as you breath, your little laughs when the characters make a joke. he just can't help the blood rushing down to his crotch. the movie plays as you begin to drift off before you hear the shuffling of fabric.

before you turn around, you hear him cough and spit into his hand. the sounds of his spit-soaked hand going up and down his cock, sloppy and desperate for relief as he gets so turned on by you doing anything.

"suguu.. are you jacking off right now?" you gasp, your head whipping around to see him pumping his cock with a expressionless face.

"just focus, baby," he grunted, "you look so cute right now,"

you shifted, sitting against the headboard with him, snuggled up to his side as you watched him masturbate. it wasn't weirdest thing, in fact, this was probably the most normal thing going on in your home. he draped his arm around you, resting it on the headboard as you shyly watched him.

"you're so pretty, suguu," you breathed as he sped up his strokes

with a groan, he finishes on his hand, bringing it up to your lips so you could clean it.

"goood girl, always so obedient, aren't you?" he smiles as you release his finger with a pop, licking his hand clean and drifting your focus back to the movie. you try to swallow it covertly but the way his eyes dart to you face shows that he noticed. he nestled closer to you, his arm resting on your thigh.

the movie continued, suguru not even bothering to put his dick back and going bare in your room (ew) before his arm shifted again, the arm around you dropping lower until his fingers were grazing your shoulder. with a blush you squirm as his hand begins to travel down to your clothed chest, resting on it.

you glare at him before focusing on the movie again until you feel him squeeze it lightly, his finger coming up to draw circles around you covered nipple. biting back a moan, you drift your hand closer to his cock until the killer from the movie pops up with a loud bang, scaring you as you yelp.

your clothed clit grazes against geto's fingers as you jump. he holds back a laugh for your sake, watching you scared expression from the film as he keep his fingers against your clit. after a couple minutes, he begins rubbing it gently through your panties.

you moan, pawing at his wrist gently as you babble about watching the movie. he knew you didn't give two shits about the shitty cgi two-star film.

"you don't want it? tell me if you don't want it, baby, i'll stop," he mumbles against your hear as his groping and rubbing stops for a moment, waiting for your response only to be met with silence. he smiles against your ear before he lifts you up, laying you down on the previous position on your stomach again as he sits behind you.

"you wanna focus? then focus."

he watches you squirm, your fluffy pajama shorts hugging your figure as he can almost swear he can see your pussy. he stalks like a predator hunting prey behind you, trapping you under him as he pulls your panties aside.

"don't get scared, baby," he chuckles, "you jumping is only gonna make me feel good,"

he thrusts his dick deep into you as you moan, gripping the sheets as your feet kicked against the bed from the sudden intrusion. he pressed his body against you, leaning into your neck as he inhales your scent, his hand coming up to your face to shove his fingers into your mouth.

"y'look just like the person on screen, sweetheart," he grunts as you dart your eyes to the film, seeing the victims of the killer trapped in a basement with their arms restrained and their mouths duct taped.

what a strange movie.

he presses his body weight on your back as he drills mean thrusts deep into your pussy, his fat cock head pushing against your cervix as you drool on his fingers. you closed your eyes in fear of getting scared by the fictional killer again, but seeing your cute face all scrunched up and choking on his lanky fingers only made him thrust harder.

"shhuuuguu," you choke as he holds you down under him, his mean hips fucking you over and over again.

"gonna cum, angel? yeahh? good girl, take this dick-fuck, i was made for this fuckin sloppy pussy,"

he groans as you nod and drool, enjoying your slurry of words as he pushes his fingers deeper. you convulse and squeze around his cock, milking him until he came with a loud groan. he continues thrusting slowly even after that, letting you ride out your orgasm until he stills in your cum-fill pussy.

he takes his fingers out your mouth, popping them in his mouth to suck them before turning your face to meet his eyes. giving you a soft kiss on your lips, he carries you out your room to properly clean you up.

what a messy girl

[normiewizard]

in a sawtrap designed to make me kill myself called my roommates are dating

[mariasont]

im obsessed with reid’s hands. He’s got gorgeous long fingers its just🫶🏻😩. Id like to request a fic/blurbs whichever you prefer, revolves around that.. maybe he knows the reader loves his hands (especially when he cradles her face-neck and hair pulling).. nothing too spicy tho.. if you dont mind. Love your fics sm🥹

Where Hands Lead - S.R

a/n: i am also a victim to being desperately obsessed with spencer's hands! guilty af! and thank u so much babes i appreicate the love and the request <3

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x reader

warnings: established relationship, hand kink, spencer being a smug little shit, domestic fluff, teasing galore, just two cuties being ridiculously in love!

wc: 1.6k

Spencer Reid's hands were a marvel. You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you noticed them--maybe it was the day you saw him fiddling with a pen during a team meeting, his fingers deftly spinning it like he'd been born doing it. Or maybe it was the time he'd held out a hand to help you up after you got knocked on your ass after rough case, his long fingers wrapping around yours, pulling you to his feet. Whatever the moment, the realization hit you like a freight train: Spencer's hands were distracting. 

Of course, you never said it out loud. Not at first. How do you casually tell your boyfriend that his hands are your newest fixation? You'd settled for sneaky glances, admiring the way his fingers moved over the keys of his computer or absentmindedly tapped against his thigh when he was lost in thought. 

You thought you were being subtle.

But Spencer was sharper than you gave him credit for... and you gave him a lot of credit.

It started with small things. The way he'd catch you staring and tilt his head slightly, curiosity painting his features. Or how his lips would quirk into the barest smile when he'd reach for something near you and your gaze lingered a second too long. He'd never said anything, but you had the nagging suspicion he was onto you.

Then came the day he decided to test his theory.

It had been a rare quiet evening at his apartment. The team's latest case had wrapped up earlier than expected, leaving you both with an unexpectedly free night. Spencer, ever the perfectionist, had insisted on cooking dinner. You'd agreed easily, not-so-secretly thrilled at the prospect of spending uninterrupted tie with him. He'd shooed you out of the kitchen when you tried to help, insisting that you relax while he handled everything.

You were setting the table when it started. Spencer reached over to hand you a glass, his fingers brushing against yours. You glanced at him quickly, hoping he hadn't noticed the way your breath caught.

He had.

Spencer's expression didn't give away much--just the faintest quirk of his lips as he turned back to the counter. He began chopping vegetables, his fingers expertly curling and flexing around the knife. The movement was smooth, precise, almost hypnotic, and before you knew it, your eyes were drawn to them again.

"Everything okay over there?" he asked casually, not looking up. His voice was innocent enough, sure, but there was a certain lilt to it that made your cheeks heat.

"Fine," you replied, probably too quickly, forcing your attention back to the table. You busied yourself with arranging the plates, trying to will away the warmth spreading through you. 

Spencer, however, wasn't finished with whatever game he seemed to be playing. As you moved past him to grab utensils, he shifted just enough for his hand to brush against the small of your back. The touch was so light it could have been accidental, but it lingered just a fraction too long to be dismissed entirely. The warmth of it sparked along your spine, making your pulse leap in a way you couldn't quite explain.

What was wrong with you today? He was your boyfriend, for crying out loud. Casual touches like this were normal--expected, even. And yet, every brush of his fingers seemed to unravel you more. You cast a quick glance up at him, trying to gauge if he'd noticed your reaction, but Spencer simply smiled, his expression innocent, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

You clenched the utensils in your hand, suddenly desperate to shake off this fixation before Spencer figured out what was going on. The last thing you needed was for him to think you were completely crazy--obsessed with something as specific as his hands. Surely, that wasn't normal. 

 By the time you finally sat down to eat, your nerves were fully frayed. Flustered didn't even begin to cover it. Spencer, on the other hand, looked completely at ease. He moved with his usually calm efficiency, placing food on the table with a soft smile. As he handed you a serving spoon, his fingers brushed against yours once again--warm, gentle, and far too distracting. You lingered a second longer than necessary, and while he didn't say a word, the subtle upward twitch of his lips suggested he notice.

Determined to pull yourself together, you focused on your plate. Or at least, you tried. Every movement Spencer made seemed designed to draw your attention. The way his long fingers curled around his fork, deliberate and precise, made your breath hitch. His index finger tapped lightly against the side of his glass as he considered something. Even the simple act of wiping his mouth with his napkin--slow, measured, maddeningly deliberate--seemed orchestrated to unravel you.

When dinner ended, you were quick to rise, eager to clear the table and escape the tight coil of your own thoughts. But Spencer was quicker. Before you could take a single step, his hand caught your wrist, fingers curling around you with just enough pressure to stop you in your tracks.

"I'll take care of it," he said, thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist before letting go.

Normally, you would argue. He'd cooker dinner, after all--it was only fair that you clean up. But today left you rooted to the spot. You sank back into your chair, wordless, your gaze following him as he moved around the kitchen.

Spencer rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing the lean muscle of his forearms, and your eyes betrayed you once again, drawn back to his hands. The way they worked was mesmerizing--graceful and efficient as he dried plates, stacked dishes, and wiped down the counters with practiced ease. 

Spencer must have felt your gaze because he glanced over his shoulder, lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. He didn't rush, taking his time as he finished tidying up. When he was done, he dried his hands on a dish towel, then set it aside before making his way back to you. His hands were empty now, but no less captivating.

Stopping in front of your chair, Spencer lowered himself to one knee, his eyes meeting yours. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

Heat swelled to your face, mind scrambling for something--anything--coherent to say. "I--what?"

Spencer chuckled softly, his hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You're not as subtle as you think."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped you.

"Next time," he continued, his thumb moving to brush against your cheek, his touch featherlight, "just tell me. I'd hate for you to sit there suffering in silence."

"I... don't know what you mean."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Oh, is that right?"

You nodded quickly.

"So you wouldn't mind if I did this?" he murmured, reaching out to cup your cheeks with the utmost care.

The warmth of his touch seeped into your skin, his thumb brushing slow, delicate arcs along your cheekbones. His fingers, long and steady, curled around the sides of your face, glueing you in place. Your breath hitched, the air between you thickening as your thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. Words failed you, leaving only the rapid thrum of your heart.

"Or this?" he added, voice softer now, almost a whisper. His fingers slid upward, tangling in your hair with a sort of practiced ease that sent sparks racing along your legs. He tugged lightly, just enough to tilt your head and pull a soft, involuntary gasp from your lips. The gentle pressure was intoxicating, and you bit down on your bottom lip, completely undone.

"Spencer..." you managed, though it barely passed a whisper. His name trembled on your lips, a plea and a confession all at once.

"Or this?" he continued, one hand sliding down to rest on your thigh. His fingers curled just slightly. Your pulse quickened, a fluttering sound that betrayed just how completely he had you in his grasp. Spencer leaned in closer, expression smug, lips moving into a smile that left you breathless. 

"And what about this?" he added, voice dropped to a hushed murmur as his hand moved to tilt your chin upward. Before you could respond, his lips found yours. The kiss was slow, purposeful, and impossible to do anything but melt into. His hands moved back to cradle your face, fingers brushing against your jaw and the sensitive curve of your neck, their touch igniting a fire that spread through your entire body.

When he finally pulled away, you felt like all the air had been vacuumed from your lungs, cheeks flushed and heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could here it.

"Yeah, um," you stammered, the words tumbling out awkwardly as you struggled to regain your footing, "I don't think I mind... you could, uh, do it again if you wanted to."

Spencer's lips quirked into a slow, satisfied smile, his eyes sparkling. "Oh, is that so?"

He leaned in once more, capturing your lips in another kiss. This time, it was slower, unhurried, as if he were savoring every second. 

He leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, savoring the moment.

When he pulled back, hands still cradling your face, he chuckled softly. "You know lucky for you, if my hands are your favorite thing about me, I've got two of them and all the time in the world."

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[cathnospam]

I believe one of Katsuki Bakugo his love languages is quality time.

No need to speak, no need to fill the quiet air with unnecessary noise of a show or movie, but just you and him in his dorm with the ambiance of soft classical or lofi playing in the back. He’s tinkering with his Gauntlets to upgrade them in the middle of the floor , and you’re laid on his bed playing your switch .

Bakugo would actually scold you for having your legs up on his clean wall , carelessly moving your feet back and fourth, but he couldn’t spit it out. You looked pretty cozy on his bed.

“Where y’going?” His gruff voice startles you a bit making you pause at the door.

You look back at him and see his eyes already on yours, he looked laxed with the nail resting in the corner of his mouth,

“‘Ganna grab some drinks. I’m kinda hungry too—“

“I already ordered something it’s 3 minutes away.” He huffs going back to screwing in the tool to his gauntlet. You nodded in appreciation, he always had a 6th sense of knowing when you needed or wanted something, and even though he’s been doing it for years you still can’t help but to be a little shocked by the action.

“Thank you.” You managed to say before bakugo could reply you were already out the door to the kitchen. You stalled sometime finding you both some ice and beverages to pick up the food from the delivery man and headed back.

When you came back to Bakugo’s dorm with food and drinks he had a big towel laid out on the floor where he previously was sitting and was standing in front of the TV to find your favorite show on Hulu, “Is the food all there?”

You nod, you knew Bakugo was the type to refuse food if his order was even a smidge wrong. Realistically he’d cook for you both, but today he has been on a deadline to finish his upgrades and honestly he would rather spend his dinner with just you instead of 20 other people bothering him.

It was nights like these that were his favorite: laid together, stealing each others food, watching a show, and just silently comfortable.

With you.

His girlfriend.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 3

(Rafe Cameron x reader, series, 5.7k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

additional chapter cw: suggestive language/themes, heavy drinking, mature readers only please

⇢ series masterlist

The game was on, and Carter wasn’t one to go down without a fight.

You however, were much less invested in her scheme to set you up with Tom, already feeling tired and confused after 24-hours of this little reunion trip. You laid in bed for quite a while replaying the almost-moment you’d had with Rafe in the kitchen in your head before taking a long, dreamless nap. It was the smell of the barbeque wafting through your bedroom window that woke you up. You threw your hair up in a bun, too groggy to care about putting any more effort into your appearance.

As you reached for the handle, you heard two hushed voices arguing behind your bedroom door. You opened it slowly to reveal Carter and Topper facing each other, both with their arms crossed as they carried on a heated whisper-argument.

“What are you even doing up here Topper?” Carter demanded.

“I don’t know, what are you doing up here Carter? Trying to get a leg up?” Topper snapped back, towering over her in height yet still somehow looking small under her glare.

They were so locked in on each other that neither of them had even noticed your appearance.

“Um, hi,” you waved your hand between their faces to get their attention. “Can I help you?”

They looked at you, startled as their arms fell and stances softened. Carter eyed your outfit up and down, trying to hide her distaste at your choice of leggings and a t-shirt.

“Well, I don’t know what he’s doing up here but I came to see if you needed help getting ready,” Carter replied.

“I am ready,” you said, eyeing her suspiciously.

“You’re, uh,” Topper scratched the back of his head uncomfortably. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

You squinted at him, you could understand Carter critiquing your outfit, knowing she was trying to set you up with Tom, but what stake did Topper have in your outfit choice?

“We’re literally just going downstairs,” you countered.

“Maybe throw on something a little nicer,” Carter urged gently.

“Okay, fine,” you gave in. “You two are being so weird today.”

Topper gave you a thumbs up as you closed the door in their faces.

A few minutes later you reemerged in a new outfit, a crocheted halter top and some cut-offs. You had let your hair down and ran a brush through it, dabbed on some mascara and lipgloss. It was the maximum amount of effort you were willing to put into a big night out in the backyard.

Despite everyone’s relentless teasing, Topper actually was a pretty good cook. The food was great and everyone thanked you, Rafe, and Tom for going out to get it.

“Tom paid!” you announced. “So everyone make sure to be really nice to him or he won’t bankroll us anymore.”

You smiled at Tom, who grinned back and waved you off in joking modesty. You let your eyes linger as he leaned over the firepit on the other side of the sprawling patio, skillfully stacking the wood before lighting a match and holding it under. He crouched low to blow gently on the kindling, causing the fire to roar to life. You could see a sliver of his toned lower back peeking out from his shirt as he reached for another log, dropping it straight into his newly sparked flame with a bare hand. The whole thing was unbelievably attractive.

The only thing better was the stoney look on Rafe’s face when you caught his eye, realizing he’d noticed the way you were looking at Tom like you wanted to have him for dessert. Good. 

Playing and replaying the scene from the kitchen in your head all afternoon, you came downstairs determined to freeze Rafe out. Sure, he remembered your favorite candy and maybe almost even apologized, but it wasn’t enough to erase the sting you felt when he pulled away from you like you had the plague as soon as anyone else entered the room.

After dinner, you were perched on the railing of the porch, sipping something strong and chatting with Carter and her childhood best friend, Maddie.

Maddie was nice enough, the Kook academy prom queen two years in a row, but she had never shown much interest in you. Until you showed up here looking much more instagram-worthy than you had in high school.

“So, omg,” Maddie started, playing with a strand of your hair like you were the closest of friends. “When are you gonna drop the workout routine? You look gorg.”

Never once had one of Carter’s friends complimented your looks. 

“Thanks,” you grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I play a lot of volleyball and jog a little.”

“Well it’s working!” Kelce hollered from across the porch, already wobbling slightly from his inebriation.

There it was again, your blush, always showing up at the least opportune times. All eyes were on you, such open talk about your body making your skin crawl with self-consciousness. You looked over the railing to the sand a few feet down, wondering how badly the jump would hurt.

As always, knowing you better than anyone, Carter felt like she could read your mind. Protectiveness roared in her chest, she set her hand over yours to silently tell you she understood before turning to the party and announcing, “okay, we’re playing a game! Everyone around the fire pit!”

No one argued with her wishes, they never did. The group gathered around the bonfire, each with a full drink in hand as Carter unnecessarily explained the rules to never have I ever as if this same group hadn’t played it a hundred times in high school. 

You appreciated Carter moving the attention off of you, but clearly she didn’t know this was your least favorite game in the world. The second the name of the game came out of her mouth, your heart dropped to your stomach, hit with memories of sitting off to the side while her friends played, all of your fingers embarrassingly still up, revealing you had done nothing interesting or scandalous in your life.

Sure, you’d definitely added a few notches to your belt since then, but you knew these people and had no doubt you were still way behind. The sad thing is you didn’t even care, but you knew they would and you couldn’t help that nagging desire to prove that you were just as cool as them. You sighed as you settled in your chair next to Carter, frustrated that just as you were starting to feel somewhat normal, you were transported right back to your loneliest days.

Carter went first, “never have I everrr…shoplifted.”

Sabrina took a giggly sip from her solo cup.

“Isn’t your dad’s networth like a billion dollars?” Kelce asked.

“Yes, but he never would’ve bought me those red panties, so I took ‘em,” she winked at him, and he scooted his chair closer to her.

Everyone else still had all ten fingers up, making you think maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

But your relief didn’t last long. One by one they went around the circle, revealing each other’s secrets and leaving you with ten fingers up.

“Never have I ever done a body shot.” Your fingers stayed up.

“Never have I ever kissed someone of the same sex.” Your fingers stayed up.

“Never have I ever hooked up in a public place.” Your fingers stayed up. 

As the group got tipsier, the revelations got dirtier. You were sure some of them were lying and there was some temptation for you to put a finger down as a lie too just to level the playing field, but that was such teenage bullshit. You might not have as a high of a body count as some of them, but you still had your pride. 

The blood rushed from you face when Maddie said, “never have I ever been with two people at once” and Rafe put his last finger down, smirking as he finished off his beer.

A few more rounds passed and everyone else had put at least a couple fingers down while you still hadn’t done a single one of the things listed. You chewed on your lip, wondering how early was too early to excuse yourself to go to bed.

You were about to make a break for it, when a now sloppily drunk Sabrina pointed at you and slurred, “aww bambi’s still got ten!”

Bambi was another one of the many teasing nicknames they’d called you in high school, and it might just be your least favorite. 

“You’re still such a good girl,” Sabrina jibed. 

She must’ve been beyond wasted. She wasn’t necessarily nice, but she wasn’t usually this much of a bitch.

Your breaths got short, the anxiety erupting like fireworks in your chest. You could feel Carter’s mind spinning next to you, trying to come up with some way to defend you, but another voice beat her to it.

“Well,” Rafe said, drawing all eyes off of you and across the firepit towards him. “Never have I ever gotten so crossfaded at a boneyard party that I pissed my pants in someone else’s truck.”

He shot Sabrina a vindictive smile.

“Rafe!” She protested. “You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” 

At her admission, everyone broke out into laughter, aimed at her.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Rafe chuckled, “you just did.”

“Bruhh,” Kelce hollered. “That’s nasty!”

Sabrina went red, completely humiliated. You tried to be a girl’s girl, but after years of her teasing and making you feel like a loser, you couldn’t help but join in the laughter at her expense. 

As she emptied her cup spitefully, you caught Rafe’s gaze across the fire, the air between you wavy with the flame’s heat. He smiled a crooked, satisfied smile at you, and you mouthed “thank you.” He gave you a reassuring wink and your stomach did cartwheels. 

Carter straightened in her lawn chair next to you, kicking herself for giving Rafe the chance to save you before she could.

“I’ve got one!” she announced, and the crowd hushed to hear their queen. “Never have I ever skinny dipped in the campus fountain and got caught by campus security but successfully flirted my way out of a citation and ended up getting the cop’s number.”

Everyone looked around the circle quizzically, wondering who that incredibly specific anecdote was aimed at.

“No fucking way!” Topper shouted when he saw you put down your pinky finger with a bashful smile.

Topper and Kelce whooped, and the girls all gave you impressed looks.

“Okay baddie!” Maddie gasped. “Was he cute? Did you call him?”

“I mean he wasn’t not cute,” you mused, taking the obligatory sip of your drink. “We hung out a few times.”

“So does that mean you’re into handcuffs now orrr…” Kelce chimed in.

“Oops, I put the wrong fingers down,” you lifted your hand and theatrically put all down except your middle finger, aiming it at Kelce.

The crowd erupted with laughs and amused ohhhh’s. Even Rafe was smiling, and you couldn’t help but wish you knew what he was thinking, noticing his soft eyes on you as you bantered with his friends, all attention on you. This time, you weren’t blushing, you were just enjoying yourself. It felt so nice to have such a naturally fun and easy moment, but it was short lived.

“Never have I ever,” Sabrina interrupted, hiccuping. “Failed an entire semester of college.”

The crowd fell silent once again, no one daring to bring their eyes to Rafe, the clear target of her comeback. He just rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair nonchalantly, like it didn’t bother him at all. But you could see the hint of shame in his eyes, a rare glimpse of vulnerability hidden under his tough facade. You used to spend so much of your time digging for those deeper layers that it was easy for you to pick up on them when they rose to the surface, even if it was just for a second.

Maybe you should let him flounder, leave him hanging like he’d done to you so many times before. But tonight, for the first time ever, he had jumped in to defend you, and maybe one act of kindness wouldn’t kill you.

“Fuck this game. Topper, didn’t you say something earlier about a beer pong tournament?” You prompted him, hoping desperately he’d see what you were trying to do and play along.

Topper looked confused at first, so you smiled tightly and flicked your eyes to Rafe and back as quickly as possible, urging him to understand.

Ever the king of subtlety, Topper’s eyes went wide as he mouthed “ohhhh!” 

Rafe saw the whole thing.

“Beer pong! Yes!” Topper said, excited to finally be in the loop. “Let’s do it!”

“I wanna play!” Sabrina stood quickly from her chair, immediately tripping over her own feet.

“Woah,” Carter caught her and held her up with some effort, Sabrina so far gone she couldn’t even use her legs. “I think you’ve had enough fun for tonight.”

Carter stabilized Sabrina and guided her towards the house. You knew she was pissed at Sabrina for picking on you, but Carter would never leave a drunk girl to stumble around a party by herself. She looked at you apologetically, but you nodded to let her know you were fine.

After they disappeared into the house, Topper and Kelce got to work clearing the long outdoor dining table for beer pong, filling cups and placing them with great attention to detail. You chuckled at the way they were arguing over correct cup spacing and fill levels as you reached down into the cooler for another drink. When you stood, Tom appeared by your side.

“I didn’t realize I was sharing a house with a criminal,” he drawled, mouth quirked with a crooked smile.

“Oh yeah,” you played along, popping the top of your drink. “I’m wanted in four states and Puerto Rico.”

“And Puerto Rico, wow,” he leaned his arm against the porch rail, his body angling towards yours in a way that made your skin prick with goosebumps. “I need to hear that story.”

“I’d tell you,” you lowered your voice and lifted your mouth towards his ear to whisper. “But then I’d have to kill you.”

“You’re in that deep, huh?” He placed his other hand on the railing on the other side of you, effectively caging you in, though he held himself back far enough to give you some space. You didn’t want space, though, the enticing scent of whiskey and the smoke from the fire drawing you to him.

“Mhm,” you leaned in so your chests were almost touching, a smile tugging his full lips when he noticed the way you intentionally closed the space between you. “If you thought the campus fountain story was bad…”

“I didn’t think it was bad,” he shook his head.

“No?” You grinned, eager to see where he was going with this.

“Not bad, kind of hot, but not bad,” he confessed.

“Only kind of?” You furrowed your brow in mock offense.

He broke into a smile and blushed, flustered as he said, “I mean, uh…”

You giggled. His bashful, dimpled smile was so painfully cute you were suddenly seeing the value to Carter’s matchmaking plan.

The alcohol in your system mixed with the warmth radiating off of him made your body go hot, tingles shooting up your spine as his eyes fell to your lips. He was so damn pretty. Warm brown eyes and messy hair you wanted to tangle your fingers in.

Rafe grabbed the fire poker and busied himself by tending to the flames, which didn’t really need it, considering Tom had built such a sturdy fire. The sound of your sweet giggles floating through the air as you flirted with Tom made him want to walk straight off the porch and into the ocean. He’d surely put his lifelong friendship with Sabrina on the line, not to mention his own pride, to keep you from running away in embarrassment, and now Tom was reaping the rewards of his chivalry. 

He remembered, though. Maybe you didn’t think he did, but he remembered. The nights you sat in the corner, lonely, pining, and the go-to butt of his friends’ stupid jokes. And he’d just sat by and let it happen, so many times. It’s no wonder you were leaned up against someone else, sharing stories about a whole chapter of your life he’d missed. He only had himself to blame.

Once the table was set up, Topper turned and frowned at the way the group had split, you and Tom cozy in the corner while Rafe stood by the fire alone, shoulders tense. He needed to step up his Cupid game, like, now.

He clapped his hands loudly, voice booming as he announced to the party that it was time to play. The startling sound forced Tom away from you just as you were about to ask him if he wanted to walk down to the water. Topper pointed right at you and pronounced you would be on his team. You were going to protest before you remembered beer pong was your idea in the first place, your ruse to protect Rafe. You couldn’t back out now.

Beer pong was another thing you’d added to your skill set in college. In high school, you were never asked to join when parties inevitably broke into a tournament. Instead you’d sit quietly and watch with hearts in your eyes as Rafe played with the competitiveness of an Olympian in a gold medal race.

He was known for his terrible sportsmanship, everyone expected a full tantrum if he didn’t win. The same went for school sports, you’d spent every night after a rare loss up on the phone with him listening intently while he ranted about all the ways the refs were wrong or the umps were blind. At the time, you took it as an honor that you were the one he wanted to find solace in. Now, grown and mature, you saw it for what it really was; no one else wanted to listen to him bitch and moan, so you were just his only option.

“Let’s go, Little Carter!” Topper raised his hand for a high five as you approached the table.

“If you call me that, I’m not playing,” you left him hanging.

“My bad, my bad,” he conceded.

You gave in and high fived him, stepping up to the table with your game face on. Kelce and Maddie stood across from you. They were both terrible shots, and you sunk every ball, but Topper was keeping them in the game with his many misses. 

Topper was great at beer pong in high school and you were sure he’d had plenty of practice at U of F, so there was no reason he should be playing so horribly.

“Dude, what the hell is up with you?” You scolded him after another throw that was way off.

“I dunno,” Topper said with an exaggerated drunken slur in his voice. “I think I’m just too wasted to play. You might need another partner.”

Before you could mock him for his dramatics, he had called over to Rafe, who was sitting back in a lounge chair looking at his phone, anything to keep his eyes off of you.

“What?” He grumbled, eyes lifting from his screen and avoiding yours.

“Need you to sub in for me,” Topper fake hiccupped and you rolled your eyes.

You were sure Rafe would see you were his proposed partner and pass on the opportunity, but then he and Topper had some kind of silent conversation with their eyes that you couldn’t interpret, and Rafe stood from his chair.

“You don’t have to,” you offered as he stepped up and took the ball from Topper.

You hated that your instinct was to apologize for inconveniencing him. He shrugged and lined up his first shot.

“Someone’s gotta show ‘em how it’s done,” he said with an easy grin that made your heart beat a little faster. 

If only your younger self could see how your night was progressing. Impressing everyone during never have I ever. Flirting with a gorgeous boy from another school. And now, Rafe smiling at you and acknowledging your presence in front of all these people, willingly agreeing to be your teammate. She’d have died and gone to heaven.

He had every right to be cocky; he was really good. And to his great surprise, so were you. You and Rafe made quick work of Kelce and Maddie, then Kelce and Jack, then Kelce and three more partners that tried to step up to the plate, Kelce’s aim worsening as he teetered on the edge of a blackout.

“When did you get so good at this?” Rafe asked you after a partcualrly skillful shot.

“I was always good at it,” you scoffed. “You just never let me play.”

After that comment, Rafe was suddenly an extra encouraging teammate. Before each shot he’d pull you back, leaning down to whisper in your ear conspiratorially about which cup you should call, like an NFL coach rallying his quarterback.

“I can’t hit the far corner, my aim isn’t that good,” you said when he proposed the risky shot. 

Self-doubt filled your face as you bit your lip, Rafe recognizing the nervous tick instantly.

“Nah you got it!” he grabbed you by the shoulder and shook you playfully. “You just gotta believe in yourself.” 

Despite yourself, you broke into a smile, making a feeble attempt to brush him away, though he could tell you didn’t mean it.

“Let’s go slugger,” Rafe placed the ball in your hand and guided you into position by your shoulders. He stood behind you and leaned in to bring his mouth close to your ear. “You got this.”

You loved it. You hated it. Your head swirled with conflicting thoughts, but when you sunk the ball with a flick of your wrist, they all faded.

“Let’s fucking gooo!” Rafe yelled.

He lifted his hand for a double high five and you stood on your tiptoes to reach. Your arms came down, but your hands were still in his.

“Told ‘ya,” he said tenderly, smiling down at you as his large hands enveloped yours. “You just gotta believe in yourself.”

Despite the alarms blaring in your head, telling you to run, you let it all linger. The deep sound of his voice in the air, his eyes on your lips, his rough hands folded in yours.

“Okay!” Carter chose that minute to emerge from the house after Sabrina finally fell asleep. “That’s enough wins for y’all, time for some real competition.”

The sound of her voice snapped you out of the moment, and you pulled your hands away from Rafe quickly, nervous about all the eyes on you for the first time since you’d started playing.

“I need a partner,” Carter said, surveying the group on the patio. “How about…”

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where she was going with this show and wishing she’d just fast forward to the end.

“Tom?” She raised her eyebrows in his direction, as if it was a crazy idea she had just come up with. “Do you play?”

“I may have taken part in a tourney or two,” Tom said humbly.

“Bullshit,” Kelce exclaimed, slumped in a chair as his head spun. “This guy was the Alpha Tau champion all four years. He’s got a plaque and everything.”

“Damn, I didn’t know we had Alpha Tau royalty in our midst!” Carter bantered.

“Jesus, enough with the fanfare, are you playing or not, dude?” Rafe snapped.

Carter eyed you, her lips twisted in a satisfied smirk. No one was surprised at Rafe’ gruffness, more than used to his competitive mean streak. It was not one of his more attractive qualities. The pull you’d just felt to him faltered a little at the reminder of this particular weakness. You were sure that’s exactly what Carter was hoping for.

“Alright I’m in,” Tom said, stepping up to the table and rolling up the sleeves of his sweater. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ‘ya.” He winked at you.

“Yeah, yeah, just call your shot, champ,” Rafe said.

The four of you reset the cups, not much work needing to be done on you and Rafe’s side of the table since almost no one had scored on you. As Tom lined up his first shot, he stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, adjusting and readjusting his stance to get comfortable.

Rafe crossed his arms over his chest mumbling something along the lines of “this fuckin’ guy” and you couldn’t help but smile, admittedly also kind of getting the ick from how seriously Tom was taking this. 

Then he sunk every ball. After a few particularly good rounds, he made his third shot in a row, and Carter called “fire.” She handed him balls one after another like he was taking free throws, wiggling her eyebrows at you to make sure you were paying attention to his triumph.

You drank each cup obediently, ever the rule follower. After your fourth, you were getting so sick of the stale beer, you and Rafe’s cups had been sitting untouched all night and the cheap hops had soured significantly. When Tom sunk another one you grabbed the cup hesitantly, queasy, nearly gagging.

“It’s okay, I got it,” Rafe volunteered, grabbing the cup from you.

“Y’all don’t have to drink those if they’re really that bad,” Tom offered, pausing his next shot when he noticed how disgusted you looked.

“I got it, man,” Rafe waved him off, holding his nose and shooting back the beer as quickly as possible. He dropped the empty cup with a grimace.

“We can just call it a game,” Tom suggested, clearly feeling bad.

“Do you want to forfeit?” You asked Rafe, dropping your voice so Carter and Tom couldn’t hear.

“What and just wave the white flag?” Rafe replied, eyebrows raised. “Do you?

Your lips spread in a slow smile, “not a fucking chance.”

“Atta girl,” he nodded, returning his gaze to Tom. “We’re no quitters, hit us again big guy.”

And he did, over and over, until there was only one cup left on your side of the table. As he prepped for his final shot, Rafe turned to you, a playful, tipsy smile on his face.

“We had a good run,” He said, reaching out shake your hand. You took it with a smile.

When Tom and Carter won, high fiving each other in a loud celebration, all eyes fell to Rafe, waiting to see how he’d react to losing. You tensed, hoping his chipper attitude when you were winning would carry over into a graceful loss. But then he rounded the table, striding towards Tom, and you cringed in anticipation of a classic Rafe Cameron Temper Tantrum.

“Oh boy,” Carter mumbled under her breath. “Here we go.”

But there was no blow up, just Rafe extending his hand to Tom, who took it with a friendly shake.

“Good game, man,” Rafe said. 

“Yeah, you too, dude,” Tom smiled, not realizing this show of sportsmanship was a historical first.

Rafe tilted his head in a friendly nod towards your sister, “Carter.”

“Rafael,” she returned his sarcastic tone, purposefully using his least favorite nickname.

With that, Rafe walked away from the table, one last glance towards you as he returned to his seat by the fire. You watched him go, feeling sad not that you had lost, but that your fun night with Rafe had seemingly come to an end.

It was dizzying, your ever-changing emotional state, and you suspected it had very little to do with the beer. Thinking over all the events of the day gave you whiplash. One second you were about ready to ask Tom if he wanted to come back to your room, the next it felt like you and Rafe were finally sharing the moment you’d dreamt of for years. All the while, you weren’t sure you actually wanted either of them, or if you even wanted to be here at all.

“Wanna play again?” Carter asked, noticing the distracted look on your face.

“I’m good,” you smiled at her appreciatively, deciding you’d had enough excitement for one day. “I think I’m probably just going to bed now.”

“Aww, but it’s so early grandma,” Topper called over to you from the firepit.

You walked over to his chair and peched on the armrest.

 “Ah yes, another one of my favorite nicknames,” you joked. “No one’s called me that in four years.”

“Another inside joke?” Tom inquired, joining the circle, he and Carter each grabbing a chair.

“In high school, she was always the first to leave parties. She’d rather be at home in bed with a book by 9pm,” Topper explained to him.

You rose from his chair, eager to ditch this little trip down memory lane before it got too embarrassing. You almost made a clean escape, but then a very drunk Kelce decided to chime in.

“Unless Rafe asked her to stay,” he laughed. “Then she’d be there allll night.”

Embarrassed doesn’t even begin to cover it. You’ve been embarrassed a thousand times in your life, but this was something different. You looked down at your feet, not sure what you were supposed to do. No quick, face saving remark was coming to mind.

Carter smacked Kelce on the arm, while Topper shook his head with a disapproving, “dude…” 

Your eyes drifted to Rafe, who was looking down at his hands uncomfortably. Whatever protective instinct that had inspired him to stand up for you earlier was clearly gone as he left you to drown in the painfully awkward silence.

“Oh, were you two…?” Tom asked, pointing between you and Rafe quizzically.

“Nope,” you told him with a stiff smile.

He looked like he was about to ask more, but caught on at the last second, reading in between the lines. There it was, the last person here who didn’t know about your pathetic past was now caught up to speed. Yeah, you’d definitely had enough.

“Kelce, you’re such an asshole,” Carter began reprimanding him.

“Just stop,” you urged her. “It’s fine, I’m just going to bed.”

“Wait!” She called after you, but you were already walking toward the house, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. She gave Kelce one last slap and rushed after you.

Kelce, barely conscious, still hadn’t caught up with his own party foul.

“Where’s she going?” He asked Topper.

Rafe stood from his chair suddenly. 

“Will you get him out of here please?” He spat at Topper, sidestepping the fire as he stormed off toward the house.

Rafe followed your path into the kitchen, not sure what he was going to say when he caught up to you, but suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to make it right. He should’ve said something as soon as Kelce put his foot in his mouth. He’d deal with that dumbass later.

He slid the kitchen door open, headed towards the stairs that lead to the second floor, but he stopped short when he heard your voice. He stayed back, out of sight but close enough to hear your conversation with Carter on the stairs.

“Carter, it’s fine,” you sighed.

“No it’s fucking not, he made you cry,” Carter practically growled.

Rafe’s heart dropped. You were crying? He was gonna kick Kelce’s ass as soon as he was sober enough to feel pain.

“I’m just tired,” you sniffled. “Please, just drop it for now. I just wanna go to sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” Carter said, her voice starting to crack. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to stay.”

“It’s not your fault,” you assured her. “I knew he was gonna be here.”

Rafe frowned. Was the ‘he’ you were referring to still Kelce, or was it him? Was his presence really so distressing to you that you were in tears?

Carter reluctantly bid you goodnight, and Rafe slipped into the pantry so she wouldn’t see him when she descended the stairs back into the kitchen, storming towards the backyard, surely on her way to give Kelce hell.

He stood in the walk-in pantry for a minute, collecting his thoughts. 

Maybe he should be the one to leave. If his presence really was such torment to you, it would be the right thing to do. But you didn’t seem tormented earlier when you were playing beer pong with him, cheering each other on and laughing like friends. Or before, at the fire, when you’d come to each other’s defense. Even his two best friends hadn’t seen that Sabrina’s words actually hurt him, but you did. You always knew him better than anyone.

While he stood in the pantry, illuminated only by the single light bulb above his head, his eyes grazed over the shelf. Between a stack of paper plates and some hamburger buns, sat the candy he had picked out for you at the store. He smiled at the memory of your many car rides as teenagers, fueled by the snacks you had brought when you picked him up. Maybe you regretted those times now, but something about the fact that this was still your favorite candy made him feel better.

His stomach twisted with worry that after what Kelce had said, you would decide to leave. The only worse thought was that he might let you go without finding the courage to say the words he’d been holding onto since he saw you on the beach. Maybe you’d slam the door in his face, but he couldn’t let you leave without trying.

Rafe grabbed your candy off the shelf and climbed the stairs two at a time, eager to knock on your bedroom door before he lost his nerve.

(Chapter 4)

a/n: I LOVED hearing all your Team Tom vs. Team Rafe opinions!! The competition is heating up!!!! (not my outline for this chapter starting with “note: google rules to beer pong” lol)

Ch 4 predictions? 👀

please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕

[hybbart]

Day 2655: As winter trucks on, everyone hauls up as the snow piles up in the city below...

Short story below the cut

Snow accumulated along the penthouse's enormous balconies, and the many large windows. Beyond was a landscape whited out by the frosty blanket, difficult to discern the shapes of any of the distant buildings through the heavy weather.

Tango's arm quietly ached. These days he could almost ignore it. Jimmy would chastise him if he knew, say it was not healthy, but what was there to do about it? hypocrite that he was, the avian had his own issues, even if it normally was not painful. They'd spent all morning pretending like Tango couldn't hear his unnaturally deep breaths, or that he'd turned his machine up higher. It was already high compared to before they'd been separated.

Today, though, was an okay day for Tango. He could almost ignore it. His prosthetic couldn't, but it was far too cold for it anyways. There was little to do while hauled up, he'd taken to hardly wearing it the past two weeks as the cold settled in. If not for their few chores and Jimmy's returning energy they'd both be hauled up in their room still.

But they still needed to clean and they still needed to eat. So, while he waited for False to return from taking care of the animals for them and the signal from Wels that his brother was still safely locked up, he cleaned. Plucked the dead leaves from the plants, moved muddy clothing to the laundry room, put away the last game they'd played, anything he saw that he could do.

Humming echoed from the hall, riding the same breeze that wafted a lovely smell of spices and meat. The last of a deer False had found. It was easy to mindlessly work with the smells and sounds of Jimmy cooking nearby. Or maybe it was just easier because he knew there was something tasty waiting at the end of it all. His thoughts were quick to get lost imagining the various dishes, unwilling to risk a fork getting thrown at him for interrupting to ask. It couldn't hurt, though, to take a peak..?

The room dimmed as great ruddy wings blocked the whiteout. False's terrifyingly sharp talons seemed like they might crush the railing beneath them, and Tango was silently glad Jimmy's were that of a songbird and not a raptor like their new companions. It wasn't as graceful as Wels' or Grian's landings either, the woman lurching slightly before hopping down to the ground. A few months ago Tango might not have noticed, but he'd seen the three avians come and go so often from that window he couldn't help notice the differences.

"All the chickens are accounted for, and your horse is fed." She announced, giving a salute with her smile that Tango returned.

"Thanks again for this." He said for the fourth time that day. "Jimmy can't even get himself off the ground this week, never mind carrying-"

"I told you it's fine." False waved him off as she slipped off her cap. even just the short flight from ground level to the 40th some-odd floor had it coated in a heavy blanket of snow.

Tango opened his mouth to protest but a yelp escaped instead, accompanied by clattering metal and plastic. It took them both a moment to realize it hadn't been him at all. Both spun towards the hall, a squeaky curse echoing. Tango was the first to rush forward.

Jimmy was leaned over the counter, head in one hand and the other limply stretched over the kitchen island where his leftovers bucket had spilled over the edge. His breaths came heavy and quick, much worse than earlier. Feathered ears twitched, well aware of his new company but unable to pick himself back up to say anything. At least until Tango had his arm around him. Then, he found the ability to give a weak protest, easily ignored as Tango guided him towards the bench-chest on the far wall.

Tango only glanced to False for a second, to check she had followed, "Go turn up the airificator." He directed.

"I'm fine." Jimmy wheezed. It was as though he'd just ran several miles, his hand clutched to his chest to catch a breath of air that would not come to him. "I just got a bit dizzy and dropped my knife."

"Is that all." Tango muttered, running his hands down Jimmy's tubes looking for any knots or breaks. A wing smacked his head until he backed away.

Jimmy huffed, though it wasn't entirely clear if it was frustration or his inability to breathe. "Just give me a minute! It's already high enough. I don't need to get used to it being even higher."

It was pure stubbornness. And if Tango was honest, he wasn't sure what to do with it. Normally it was himself being stubborn about his arm and Jimmy knocking sense into him. Jimmy could be as stubborn as a mule, but it'd never been directed at his health.

Sheepishly, False appeared around the corner. "I turned it up, there's not much room for higher, though."

"See?" Jimmy said pointedly. It was true, that it wasn't good for Jimmy to have it so high for extended time. But if that's what his body needed right now, then what could they do? Suffer and almost drop a knife on himself, apparently. Tango's brows knit together.

"You go lay down, I'll finish the cooking."

Jimmy balked. "You have one hand!"

"That's one more than you right now." He knelt down, allowing the hunched avian to look down on him. "It's not going to get better if you push yourself."

There was a look in his rancher's eyes, one that quickly shifted between several emotions until they were almost glassy, before he dropped his head, his grown out hair curtaining his face out of view. Tango sat there, running his hand up and down Jimmy's arm, until a weak voice escaped between gasps, "What if it doesn't?"

If it didn't? There wasn't much to be done if it didn't. They'd live with it like they did every time things became incrementally worse, and a bad day became a regular day. But if this was a regular day, what would be a bad day? Tango couldn't bring to let himself think about the thought that seemed to be consuming Jimmy at that moment. Not while Revy was still in the back of his mind. So, instead he says, "It will."

There was nothing in Jimmy's expression that conveyed any faith in those words.

"You need to let yourself rest." False interjected, hesitant to step forward when both men's eyes turned to her. She fiddled with the tube in her gloves, still having yet to even remove her coat. "Your lungs, if they're straining you need to let them rest for now, build up strength."

"For how long?" Muttered Jimmy, expression resigned. He'd already spent weeks in bed.

False wasn't one for complicated answers. "As long as it takes. You've been straining them for months, it'll take a while. And there's no better time to do it while we're all cooped up in here anyways."

"But it's just cooking. If I can't even do that-"

"Singing while running back and forth and wielding heavy utensils and pots? Your muscles aren't exactly in great shape either after that, it's probably taking it out of your entire body. And there's a difference between exercise and straining yourself."

She pushed he hand to her chest, "If you rest now I can help you with your breathing."

Both ranchers blinked in shock. "What?" Tango asked.

She ignored them at first, taking her time to pull off her scarf and coat, hanging both up on the back of a chair. Hands went to her clothed ribs, and she took a deep breath as her wings flexed. They stuttered, that same oddity Tango had noticed in her movement. "Look, you've met my sister, right? H?"

"Yeah..."

"Then you must have noticed she has a few less limbs." False nodded, fluttering her wings. "She's basic."

"That's a bit rude." Tango couldn't help joke, earning a shoulder bump from Jimmy to quiet down.

She groaned, and then threw her arms out, "I was born from an alteration of her genetics, I wasn't naturally an avian."

That made sense to Tango, knowing what they could do to Doc when he was already alive. It quickly cascaded, other pieces of the puzzle clicking into place.

"I had to learn things you already know, and make up for things that didn't quite take. This included an obnoxious amount of physical therapy, especially dedicated to lung capacity." She put her hands on her hips, taking in a deep breath as if it were an example of her newfound capabilities before releasing. "I don't exactly know all the doctor-y mumbo jumbo behind how it all works, and we don't have all the big fancy equipment, but I know what helped me and what will probably help you some."

"False..." Jimmy sounded torn, and Tango couldn't blame him. It was hard to have any hope after living with his lung damage for seven years, steadily watching it get worse and worse. Their conditions had been very different, but was there really something False could offer that Scar hadn't already offered them in the past? How much was there that she could realistically do? At some point there had to be nothing at all. But it was tempting, even if just to get back to what it had been before, or at the very least prevent it from getting worse. There wasn't much farther it could fall, after all, any lifeline looks tempting.

"It's worth a shot, innit?" She shrugged, giving a tentative smile. "It's the least I could do, is at least try. At worst it does nothing."

"At worst I get my hopes up." Jimmy sighed, leaning his head against Tango. It seemed his body was beginning to decide for him that it was time to rest.

Tango brought his hand up to his rancher's hair, running his claws through the long strands in comfort. Whatever you want to do, I support it. That was how they always operated, wasn't it? He let his tail curl around Jimmy's talons. "I think either way, for now rest is in order."

That Jimmy found the strength to grumble about. "Fine, all of you can go hungry. I don't care."

"That's the spirit!" Tango chirped, hauling the whining avian to his feet. He couldn't pick him up with only one arm, so he resigned to dragging him down the hall. He stopped as they reached False, giving her a grateful smile before shuffling past her. He hissed as his stump bumped against the wall. Jimmy's head shot up immediately. "It's fine, I'm used to it." Tango strained to say through the jolt of pain. He'd forgotten just how tender it had been that day.

"You shouldn't be used to it." Jimmy chastised. "It's not healthy."

Tango gaped at him then burst out laughing, "Okay, Mister Hypocrite. Time to go to bed."

"Excuse me!"

[theonottsbxtch]

MILLION DOLLAR WOMAN | OP81

an: i head to france tomorrow guys, today is my final day of freedom rip. this was so fun to write because imagine just finding out your partner is a millionaire fr, based off of this request

wc: 2.5k

Oscar could see her sitting at the dining table through the floor-to-ceiling windows as he parked his car. The quiet of their home in Monaco always took him by surprise—no revving engines, no buzz of the pit crew. Just her typing away on her laptop with her usual cup of tea. She looked up as he walked in, gave him a quick smile, and then returned to her screen. Always so relaxed, even as he walked in carrying the tension of a bad training session.

"Good day?" she asked, barely looking up. He nodded and mumbled something about a corner he'd taken too fast. She listened but didn’t pry. She never did. That's how she was. She was more interested in weekend hikes than race standings, in cooking simple meals than joining him at fancy team dinners. It was a refreshing kind of simplicity, though sometimes a little mystifying. She didn’t ask about the sport or his schedule, never got jealous over the fans, and didn’t seem to care about the lifestyle that came with dating an F1 driver.

In a way, it was...perfect. He didn’t have to worry about her growing tired of his schedule, or about her expectations getting out of hand. She worked her 9-to-5, met him after, and never asked for more. The fact that she paid for her own things when they went out had caught him off-guard at first, but she’d laughed and shrugged it off when he offered to take care of the bill. "I’m used to it," she’d said. And that had been that. No strings, no expectations.

Tonight, she must’ve been finishing something for work, because she was typing away with focus. He walked into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water, glancing over his shoulder at her every now and then, content. The glow of her screen was the only light in the room; the apartment was quiet but comfortable, like this was all they’d ever need.

“How’s work?” He asked as he shut the fridge.

She briefly looked up, “Long” she sighed but smiled at him.

As he walked past her he placed a brief kiss on her forehead and slid onto the sofa, stretching out and letting the quietness of home sink into his bones. She was already back to her typing, nodding to herself as she worked through whatever was in front of her. It was one of those things he found himself both fascinated by and grateful for—she didn’t need him to fill the silence. She seemed just fine with her job, her laptop, her little rituals that didn’t have anything to do with him.

Oscar watched her for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through emails and messages. A lot of them were about his upcoming sponsorship deal, a whirlwind of numbers and logistics. He thought about calling his manager to check the final figures but decided against it. Just thinking about it wore him out.

He read email after email as he heard the scrape of a chair, he looked up to see her stand up and take a call in their terrace, something he adored about this house.

Then his phone rang, Mark, he picked up automatically. “Yeah, hey,” he said, voice still soft from the calmness of the evening. As he talked through the details with him, he realised he needed to jot something down. With no pen or paper in reach, he glanced over to the dining table where she always kept a notepad beside her tea.

Oscar rose, walking over to her seat, quietly picking up her pen. But as he did, his eyes fell onto the screen of her laptop, where her banking app was open.

It was one glance, just a flicker of his eyes, but enough for him to catch sight of the balance there. He paused mid-sentence, his own words catching in his throat.

That number didn’t look right.

Surely it was missing a decimal.

Wrapping up the conversation with Mark, he wrote down what he needed, and looked at the screen once more. In that time, she’d walked back into the room, her feet padding on the cool granite of their dining room floor.

Oscar couldn’t take his eyes off the screen.

"Hey," he said, voice a little strained, still trying to process what he was seeing. "Uh…how much money do you make?"

She blinked, the corner of her mouth lifting in that effortless way of hers. "Enough," she said with a little laugh. "Why?"

Oscar blinked, struggling to wrap his head around it. This was his girlfriend—quiet, low-key, not a trace of the usual high-gloss life he’d always associated with wealth. He’d seen people obsess over money, hover around him just because of it, make a whole lifestyle out of it. But her? She was the woman who insisted on bringing packed lunches to work, who chose thrift shops over boutiques, who still wore her decade-old watch without a second thought. She was content. Comfortable. But this…

"That’s…a lot of ‘enough,’" he said, pointing at the screen, unable to mask the amazement in his voice.

She just shrugged and closed her laptop, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "I guess I don’t really talk about it, huh? Not exactly first-date conversation."

He leaned back against the table, watching her with a strange mix of awe and curiosity. "Not even, like, fourth-date conversation."

"To be fair, I didn’t ask what you make, either," she pointed out, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Money’s not really…our thing."

He felt a laugh bubble up in his chest. She was right, and yet, here he was, dumbfounded. She’d been living in his world all this time, never asking him for anything, never trying to claim any part of the lavish life he could provide. Now, he realised, maybe she didn’t need it at all.

"So…why not mention it?" he asked, still trying to understand. "I mean, I just assumed…" He trailed off, feeling a little sheepish.

"I know," she said, her smile turning gentle. "I guess I liked that you assumed. It made things easier. It let me be just…me. No expectations, no need to fit into any box."

Oscar nodded slowly, taking that in. It made sense, but it still felt surreal. Here was someone who, from the very beginning, hadn’t wanted anything from him other than his time, his company. She wasn’t here for his lifestyle or his status, things he’d been conditioned to believe were a part of every relationship he’d ever have.

He glanced at her laptop again, unable to stop himself from wondering. “So, wait—what exactly do you do? Something like…senior management?” he asked, half-joking, his tone teasing.

Oscar chuckled, shaking his head as the absurdity of it all settled in. He was still trying to wrap his head around the whole idea—his girlfriend, his laid-back, thrift-shop-loving girlfriend, was apparently not only financially secure but really well off.

She raised her eyebrows, a sly smile creeping across her face. “Something like that,” she replied, taking a sip of her tea.

He squinted at her, suspicious. “Oh, come on, don’t leave me hanging. How high up are you, really?”

She glanced away, as if considering her words, and then said it, almost like a casual aside. “I’m the CEO.”

He blinked, the statement hanging in the air like a punchline he hadn’t quite caught. “Wait…CEO? As in, like, the CEO?”

She laughed, shrugging it off like it was nothing. “Just of a mid-sized company, Oscar. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Darling,” he said slowly, realising dawning. “What company?”

She paused, her eyes darting away, and he could see the hint of mischief there. “Ever heard of Catalyst?”

“Catalyst…wait, as in Catalyst Dynamics?” he asked, his voice growing louder with shock. “The same Catalyst Dynamics that sponsors my team?”

She pressed her lips together, trying—and failing—not to smile. “Do they?”

“Oh, you are kidding me!” he exclaimed, grinning in disbelief. “You’ve been secretly spoiling me this whole time!”

She shook her head, looking away as though he’d accused her of something scandalous. “Oscar, it’s a sponsorship, not a…spoiling thing. Besides, that’s business. I keep it separate from…this.” She gestured between the two of them, clearly trying to play it cool.

But Oscar wasn’t buying it, not for a second. “Oh, no you don’t.” Before she could say another word, he leaned down, scooping her up and carrying her toward the sofa.

“Oscar!” she yelped, laughing, half-protesting, but she didn’t resist.

He set her down on the cushions, pinning her playfully as he hovered above her, grinning with that spark of mischief that usually only showed up on race day. “You’ve been keeping this a secret, haven’t you? The big boss lady, looking out for me, pretending you’re just this regular 9-to-5 woman…”

“Oscar, I’m not spoiling—”

“Oh, we’ll see about that.” He grinned wider, fingers finding her sides as he started tickling her, his hands relentless. She burst into laughter, twisting and squirming, but he didn’t let up.

“Okay, okay!” she managed between laughs, her breath coming in gasps as he kept up his assault. “I admit it, I admit it!”

“Admit what?” he asked, pausing, a playful gleam in his eyes as he waited for her to say it.

“Fine!” She was breathless, cheeks flushed from laughter. “Maybe I had a tiny bit of a hand in sponsoring your team, maybe. But it wasn’t to spoil you! It was just…good business.”

He chuckled, finally letting up, settling beside her on the sofa. “Good business, huh?”

She took a deep breath, still smiling as she nudged him. “I mean it. I didn’t want you to feel any pressure…or obligation. This—us—is different.”

Oscar looked at her, his heart feeling fuller than he’d expected. “Different is right.” He slipped an arm around her, pulling her close. “Guess I’m just lucky to be dating a CEO with a secret soft spot.”

She laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder, content. “And I guess I’m lucky to be with someone who never needed me to be anything but…me.”

As they settled into a comfortable silence, Oscar’s mind was still spinning, pieces clicking into place one by one. He glanced around their beautiful apartment—the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sleek, minimalist design. The place had always felt like an oasis, calm and understated, like Anna herself. But something new was nagging at him now.

“Wait…” He looked down at her, narrowing his eyes. “That’s why you won’t let me pay rent, isn’t it? You said this place was your dad’s, but it’s not, is it?”

She bit her lip, trying not to smile, but the faintest hint of a smirk gave her away. “Well…okay, maybe it wasn’t technically my dad’s. He…may not have anything to do with it.”

“Sweetheart!” he said, laughing as he sat up, staring at her in mock betrayal. “So you’ve just been letting me think I’m staying at this family-owned place when all this time you’re the one paying for it?”

She shrugged, looking at him with playful innocence. “It’s already been paid for. Besides,” she added, her smile widening, “I like the idea of you feeling at home here without any pressure.”

“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m onto you now. You may be this relaxed, low-key CEO, but you’ve secretly been spoiling me this entire time. Admit it!”

She laughed, a bright, carefree sound. “Fine, I admit it—I may have bought this place. Technically. But it’s still your home, too.”

Oscar pulled her close again, marvelling at how effortlessly she balanced everything—her high-powered job, their quiet, easygoing life together, her uncanny ability to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world. “You know what?” he murmured, looking into her eyes. “I don’t care if you own half of Monaco. You’re still my love.”

She grinned, leaning her forehead against his. “Good,” she whispered. “Because you’re stuck with me.”

They stayed like that for a moment, her nestled into him, the quiet warmth of the room settling around them. But Oscar couldn’t resist one more question, the thought gnawing at him.

He tilted her chin up to meet his gaze, a smirk playing on his lips. “Alright, one last thing, Miss CEO.” He paused, eyes twinkling. “Is your net worth bigger than mine?”

She tried to stifle a laugh, her eyes darting away as if avoiding the answer itself. “Oscar…”

He gasped, leaning back in exaggerated shock. “Oh my god, it is, isn’t it? You’ve got me beat!”

“I’m not answering that,” she said, biting back a smile as she pressed her lips together stubbornly.

“You don’t need to,” he replied, grinning even wider. “The silence says it all. Here I thought I was the big shot, and my girlfriend’s out here just quietly sitting on an empire.”

She laughed, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Well, maybe I just like watching you think you’re the fancy one.”

He pulled her close again, laughing softly. “Alright, fine. But don’t think I won’t bring this up anytime you try to sneak the bill.”

She grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Deal.”

Oscar chuckled, still shaking his head in disbelief. He leaned back, looking up at the ceiling as if he’d just pieced together some incredible mystery. “You know, our kid is going to be spoiled,” he said, the words slipping out with a grin.

He felt her shift beside him, and when he looked down, her expression had softened, her eyes faraway, a little spark of excitement in them. “They won’t,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Humble start, just like we both had.”

“Oh, so you’ll be the strict parent, then?” he teased, arching an eyebrow. “The one laying down the law?”

She laughed, giving him a gentle shove. “So I’m the bad cop?”

“Absolutely. I’m not budging on this.” He grinned, taking her hands in his as he leaned in close. “You’ve been lying to me for four years about practically everything. I think that officially makes you the bad cop in this relationship.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face was warm, even a little shy. “Fine, I’ll take ‘bad cop’… but only if you’re ready to be the softie who gives in.”

Oscar laughed, wrapping his arms around her, feeling that sense of joy settle in even deeper. “Deal, I was already planning on it” he whispered, his voice full of promise. And as he held her close, he realised he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Oscar pulled her even closer, his hands resting gently on her cheeks as he took in the warmth of her gaze, her face illuminated softly in the low light. The playful edge between them softened into something deeper, and the laughter faded into quiet, shared breath.

Slowly, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a soft, lingering kiss that held all the words they hadn’t said. Her hands slid up to his shoulders, fingers curling there as she melted into him, and for a moment, everything—the teasing, the surprises, the whole world around them—faded away.

the end.

[seungfl0wer]

*Lee know Calling You Clingy*

Paring: Lee Know x Reader (GN)

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Arguing, Cursing, A sort of happy ending?

This is part of a series find the others here:

Bangchan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

-🩵

Cutting up some veggies as you watched your boyfriend cook dinner, he was always so handsome like this so in his zone. As you got done cutting you brought it over to him. Standing by his side as he went to grab something you would hand it to him, He moved you would move. You thought to yourself how sweet this moment was however that’s not exactly what he was thinking. He was getting frustrated cause as much as he really loved when you helped the kitchen was too small for you both to be doing stuff.

“Y/n can you please give me a little bit of space” he said his tone sounding annoyed. You looked up at him feeling bad for bothering him so you slumped back into the chair. “Why don’t you set the table?” He asked seeing your reaction. You nod feeling a bit upset as you did so. You both sat down to eat finishing the delicious food fast before plopping yourselves down on the couch to watch a movie.

You wanted to make it up to him for bothering him while he was in his element so you wrapped your arms around him snuggling up to him. He let out a small sigh as you did so, you looked up to the man who was trying to focus on the movie. His face stern looking still with a hint of that annoyance from earlier. “Hey babe is everything alright? You seem on edge today?” You said softly trying to read his face. “It’s fine” he said blankly still keeping his attention on the tv.

“Love please, talk to me I can tell something’s up. Is it work? Did I do something?” You went on rambling before he cut you off “y/n please. Can we just watch the damn movie.” He hissed his voice harsher than it was supposed to be “can’t you at least tell me what’s wrong?” You said not wanting to drop it, although you probably should have. “For fuck sakes y/n!” He said turning off the tv and getting up “you have been- been so clingy lately. You have been up my ass since we came back from the US. Why can’t I just get a few minutes of just peace. First you won’t leave me alone while I’m cooking and now I can’t even watch a damn movie without fucking 50 questions!” His voice echoed across the room.

Your heart was pounding trying all you had not to cry “I’m fucking sorry I haven’t seen my boyfriend in almost a month, god fucking forbid me for wanting to spend time with him!” You hissed back. You stood up quickly walking to your room, you grabbed a bag and packed some clothes as Minho continued behind you. “It’s one thing to fucking miss me y/n but it feels like you’d want to sit on my lap while I take a fucking shit cause you “miss me so much” you act like we didn’t talk at all which again had me no fucking time to myself!”

You put your bag over your shoulder “Fine you want alone time so fucking bad! Then be alone Minho!” You said storming towards the front door. Your mind raced as you could feel the tears pulling at the corners. No. No crying he doesn’t get to see that. “Good! That’s exactly what I fucking wanted, I’m happy you get the fucking message now!” He said still yelling behind you. You bit your lip his words cutting deeper each time he spoke. You turned around quickly feeling the tears coming “fuck you Minho! I’m- I’m fucking done!” You spat almost running out the door you could hear him before you were out “me fucking too!”

You had gone to a friend’s house to stay she held you close rubbing your back trying to console you. Everything hurt, your head was spinning, your eyes red from crying cheeks stained with tears. “Want me to get some of that cake you like so much and we can sit and eat it while watching horror movies” she said smiling “why horror movies?” You said smiling a bit “cause at least dumb men die in it” she laughed making you laugh too. She was always such a good friend knowing exactly what to say and do to make you feel better.

After Minho calmed down a bit he sat back down on the couch. He turned the movie back on but quickly turned it off “damnit, even when they’re not here they ruin it.” He said throwing the remote back down to the table. He laid back on the couch looking up at the ceiling he felt a heaviness in his chest “no I wanted alone time” he said shaking his head “I wanted this..” his words trailed off. “But why’s it feel so bad.” He said with a deep sigh.

He looked at his phone wanting to text you but not daring too. He knew he was out of line but he didn’t want to be the first to admit. Your words ringing in his head though “I’m done.” What did you mean? Were you ending the relationship? The thought of this made a lump in Minhos throat. Surly you weren’t serious right? .. Right??

Almost a week had passed with radio silence on both ends. It wasn’t like either of you didn’t wanna message the other but neither of you wanted to do it first.

You had thought about things a lot, you decided about going home and just staying in the guest room. You knew Minho wasn’t home at the moment and all though your friend had a great idea “just move out while he’s not home, give him the ultimate alone time he wants” you couldn’t afford that right now. And quite frankly why does he get to keep the place and you move?

You walked into your apartment thinking of what exactly to do. Your head spinning a bit from thoughts “what the fuck am I even gonna say?” You said to yourself “are we even together anymore?” You sighed loudly you stood there for a good minute or two before making your way to the bedroom. You scrounged up most of your things moving it into the guest room you felt yourself wanting to cry again “fuck you” you said softly. You locked the door, put on some music and just curled up into a ball. You had fallen asleep quickly the feeling of being in your home making you sleep easier.

Minho had come home late walking through the door to see your shoes on the floor. His face looked confused before he heard music playing “did she come home?” He said to himself making his way to what was your shared bedroom. He looked over it seeing you had taken stuff he felt his heart sink. He saw the small light coming from under the guest rooms door making the thoughts of you moving disappear. He walked to the door trying to open it realizing it was locked he was about to knock before stopping himself.

He signed a bit walking to the living room, he slumped into the couch all sorts of emotions whirling in his head. He slowly fell asleep only to be woken up by the sounds of you coming out of the room. You quietly tried sneaking to the door your belly rumbling. He quickly turned his head to meet your eyes locking. You both were still for a second before he let out a soft “leaving?”

You shook your head no “7/11” you said trying to keep it short. You made your way to the door putting your shoes on “I- I can make you something.” His voice barely a whisper at this point. “No thank you” you said before leaving out the door. This is how it stayed for about a week. Minho tried talking to you and you just giving him one word answers. He came home from work you’d slink back into your room. He’d come into the kitchen, you’d leave just as quickly.

He started doing small things for you like leaving you breakfast in the morning, or buying your favorite drink to keep in the fridge. He usually did these things always being thoughtful in these sweet kind of actions. It made your heart hurt more. One of the days he made you your favorite lunch, he didn’t do it often because it meant going about an hour away to the restaurant to pick it up but he did. He did in the morning before he had to be at work driving there and back before his already long day.

When you saw it in the morning you started to bawl like a baby. Minho had come back home after realizing he left his phone on the counter. You were curled up on the couch listening to some of his solo music crying into a pillow. He stood there not wanting to bother you but wanting nothing more than to hold you and make things right. He started making his way towards you before you heard him your head shot up eyes meeting his. Your body moved fast tackling him almost knocking you both down.

“Min I’m sorry- I’m so sorry” you choked out tears streaming down your face ugly crying “I’m sorry for being clingy I’m sorry for being a bother- I’ll change I’ll give you more space I’m sorry I just can’t- I can’t do this anymore I miss you- everything hurts-“ you said between sobs and wiping the snot that was running down. Minho couldn’t help but cry at your words, he really had broken you. “No- y/n please don’t change, this all was because of me I’m the asshole I’m the one that should be apologizing.” He said his chest heaving.

“Don’t change please I’m sorry for calling you clingy please- I miss you, cling to me. Hold onto me for dear life please I need you..” he voice getting stuck in his throat. You’ve never seen him like this, he always kept his emotions under control but he couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Life has no meaning if I can’t spend it with you, if I can’t have you by my side with that shining smile of yours. The smile that I haven’t seen in how long. I ruined everything. I hurt you I ruined us things won’t ever be the same.”

His voice horse crying even harder than you now “you should hate me, you should want me to jump off a bridge. I don’t know- I don’t understand why you’re apologizing.” He was rambling on. You felt your heart just braking again, he was so defeated and part of you wanted nothing more than to tell him this is exactly what he wanted. And you’d be right, but you just wanted him back, wanted things back to how they were.

You pulled Minho down to the couch both of you sobbing trying to calm yourselves. You both cried for almost a full half hour before you spoke “Things.. things will be different either way.. you.. we gotta build that trust back up” you said softly clearing your throat. “Let’s start off slow ok?” You said lifting his head to make eye contact with you.

“Well start small and work on things hmm?” You said repeating yourself. He nodded “can.. can you come back to our room?” He said whipping his nose “eventually, I will let’s start off with just trying to talk through some things ok?” You said kissing his cheek. “I love you Minho but what you said hurt and will still probably hurt in the future. But I really do love you and would rather work on things and hopefully fix it than just to through it away so easily.” You said pulling him into a hug.

“Anything, I’ll do anything to show you how sorry I am.” He said his words muffled by your shoulder. You nod sitting there in silence both of you trying to gather your thoughts and catch your breath.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[lalunanymph]

୨୧ zayne decides to take matters into his own hands when he notices you've been neglecting your health lately

✧･ﾟboyfriend!zayne, fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of food, reader neglects her health, reader calls zayne 'sir' once, spanking, soft dom!zayne -> lifestyle dom!zayne, light Dom/sub elements, swearing, unprotected s[e]x, petnames (my aurora, my darling), thigh humping, size kink

✧･ﾟthought about lifestyle doms from an anon's ask and suddenly this idea came to me about zayne doubling down on making sure you're taking care of your health ugh i need this man biblically

The life of a Hunter is anything but easy, and Zayne knows that well.

However, he can't help the feelings that surface every time he sees you coming back home, tired and even more worn down than when you had given him a goodbye kiss this morning.

And this isn't the first time, either.

He notices—he always does. It's in his very nature to be trained to catch even the slightest deviation of the norm; a blip in your composure, your routine.

Nowadays, you were sleeping for 4 hours max, pushing your body everyday at work until bruises litter your limbs; skipping meals to hand in Jenna's reports before the stipulated deadline, barely finishing up your 500ml water bottle he so diligently helps to fill up every morning...

... and all of it piles onto the guilt he feels when he realizes how little he can do to take care of you.

It festers and festers and festers till he snaps the very second you come back home, exhausted and puckering your lips for his usual welcome back kiss.

"No."

It breaks his heart—truly, it does—to see the hurt shining in your eyes.

Why? You struggle to understand why he's being so cold all of a sudden. From warm snuggles to an icy cold glare—Zayne's mood shift was scaring you. 

Instead of answering, he goes into the kitchen and reappears a second later, holding a cup of water.

"Drink this all up and then I'll kiss you." 

His tone is deadpan, sharp green eyes never losing their sternness. 

To add insult to the injury, he scoffs, "Your breath probably smells after a whole day of not drinking water. The bacteria on your tongue alone could kill off a mouse." 

You gape, affronted. "Hey! Don’t be mean—" 

"Drink. Up." He leaves no room for you to argue; to huff your disbelief. Deciding to not be too difficult, especially when you've already had a hard day at work, you gulp down the water dutifully; a little too quickly until you choke and he pats your back. 

Once your coughing fit subsides, he tilts your head up, and like the first touch of cool morning dew on skin, his lips meet yours.

"More," you mumble, nails sinking into his soft dark hair, tugging slightly on his roots to voice your need.

Something about your sweet primary care physician boyfriend who's always yielding and gentle—restraining you from indulging in him until you did, as he said—made you throb all over. 

Zayne's minty cool breath fans across your face, his voice smooth as dark chocolate when he whispers, "You need to eat first. I know you haven't had a full meal today." 

Rubbing your nose against his, you whine. "If I do eat, can you kiss me more?" 

In answer, Zayne wraps his arms tightly around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "Of course," he mumbles into your skin. "I'll give you so many kisses till you're sick of them."

Never, you thought. You would never get over the feeling of his lips on yours. Or the rough rasp of his palm on your thigh, gently kneading the flesh as you quickly ate the meal he cooked. 

If you thought his spur of tough love would end after tonight, you were sorely mistaken.

Kisses held hostage turn into refusals of even hugging you until you promise to finish your lunch at work. 

You feel Tara's stare burning holes into your side profile, brows crinkled as she looks past her desktop at your antics. 

Today, your phone leans against your monitor, and you were taking huge bites of the noodle dish Zayne prepared the night before.

"Filming a mukbang?" Tara inquires innocently. 

You shake your head, expression sour. "No," you quickly swallow your bite of food, and fix her with a look that speaks volumes. "Zayne." 

"Ah." 

Tara nods. "Dating a doctor isn't easy. I bet he tells you to pay attention to your health all the time, huh? But, you know what they say—an apple a day keeps the doctor away. At least, he'll stay off your case if you take care of yourself." 

Only she could make it sound so easy.

When you were called into the city to investigate a strange flux pattern, you had forgotten to let Zayne know you weren't coming home in time for dinner. 

How were you to know that the very second you stepped foot at home, he was already waiting with a scowl in place? 

"Zayne—" you start when you see him leaning against the kitchen doorframe, expression impassive.

He shushes you, tall and imposing; still in his pristine work suit from today.

"Have you at least had something to eat in the last 6 hours?" 

Remembering the little pact you both made, you nod quickly. "Mhm hmm! All my food is finished—cross my heart." You even remove your container from its insulated bag, shaking it lightly. "See? All empty." 

A shadow of a smile graces his lips. "Good. And how many cups of water did you drink?" 

Immediately, the smile drops from your face. "Uh... one? maybe two. I can't remember..."

The look in his eyes would've made you shrink away, if you couldn't already predict your boyfriend's next words.

"You are highly irresponsible with your own health, my darling." 

You wait for him to nag, but back up when he starts to approach you; the look on his face is unreadable. 

"What do I do with you, Y/N?" he sighs, and before you can react, cages you against the wall. The smell of his cologne—fresh and expensive—invades your nostrils.

Your head spins, all the blood going straight to your toes; your stomach falling when he leans forward, lips right at your ear.

"I guess I have to force you to take your health seriously. How do you think I will do that?" 

Zayne doesn't wait for you to answer. In one swift move, he has you in his arms, using his strength to carry you into the bedroom.

"Zayne," you squeak and gasp when he tosses you onto the bed. 

The mattress dips under his weight, his face inches from yours. Despite the change in his behavior, you tilt your lips up, needy and ready to feel his kisses. 

But, he never gives it to you. 

Instead, his large hands pin your wrists to the headboard, those sharp green eyes peering at you through half-mast lids. 

Zayne licks his lips, and subconsciously, you track the minute movement, biting on your own lower lip. 

The air turns heavier; sweetened with the promise of an unforgettable night. 

You accidentally tick your hips up, catching the front of his slacks. Your eyes widen when you feel an unmistakable bulge digging right into your crotch; Zayne's loss of composure pushing right into the heat of your thighs, demanding for your attention. 

In contrast, his expression doesn't change; an almost bored emerald gaze fixed on your every reaction. 

"You do know what will happen tonight, right?" 

Trying hard not to shiver, you nod. 

"Yes," you mumble, suddenly meek. 

"Yes, what?" 

You swallow, darting your gaze over his shoulder. He grunts, squeezing down on your wrists with enough pressure to make it throb, but not enough to leave a bruise.

"Sir!" You yelp. "Y-yes, Sir." 

One corner of his mouth ticks, and exhales a short huff. "Good. You still have your manners intact, I see."

Leaning up, he unbuttoned his vest. Using one hand to gather your wrists together, the free one was left to tug on his tie; Windsor knot giving way to a strip of his pale skin. 

You eyed the expanse of his neck hungrily; unabashed, even when his lips curl into a sinful smile.

“It seems like someone here has missed me,” Zayne whispers, and you fight back a shiver when he leans in, close enough for his breath to stir the loose locks on your cheeks. 

“I’m… sorry,” was all you could offer him weakly. Zayne’s thin lips curl into a smirk. At this point, you weren’t even sure why he wasn’t fucking you yet—what he was waiting for. “Please…” without a second thought, you clip your hips against his, trying to ease the tension between your thighs. “I need you, Zayne.”

His grunt was low—a warning. “Do you think you deserve it? I can’t keep reminding you to put yourself first, my darling. What if I’m gone? What would you do?” 

Even though it was a hypothetical question, your chest couldn’t help but squeeze at the thought of a Zayne-less life. You would rather feed yourself to a Wanderer than go a day without him.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, earnest this time. “I was careless. I should’ve listened to you. I… I’ll try my best to take care of myself.” 

Zayne gives you a look, like he doesn’t believe you for a single second. It has you scrambling your ringing mind to say something else. 

But, before you do, the world tilts, and you’re in his lap. Zayne’s lips were an inch away from yours. You zero in on them. Missing how they would feel gently slotted against your own—when you disregard the hesitation to plant your mouth on his. 

Patiently, like a martyr or a long suffering saint, Zayne lets you kiss him. He doesn’t respond back, at least not like what you expect.

No flames, no passion. It was as good as kissing a stone statue.

There was no yield in his gaze; those flinty green eyes refusing to thaw.

You repress a full body shiver. 

Suddenly, the coolness of the room becomes more pronounced. You feel the chill on your skin, where his long fingers wrap around your fleshy hips spilling past the Hunter-standard pants.

“I should punish you for that.” 

A flurry of movement. Your face meets the downy mattress, mouthful of cotton stoppering your protests. 

Sharp, stinging pain explodes across your ass. The sound of a large palm meeting skin echoes around the room again; your surprised yelp bouncing from wall to wall.

Soothingly, he rubs the ache from your tender globes, and in a voice dripping with sympathy, whispers, “I apologize for having to do this, my Aurora.”

Your back arches, the sudden awareness of your vulnerability penetrating your fuzzy mind. Pinned to the bed, his bigger frame pressing down on yours—you were trapped in the eye of a frigid storm.

“Zayne,” you whine, too aware of how warm his body felt on yours. 

I promise to take care of you, his voice rings in your head. Of memories during summer nights, skin stuck to skin, your head on his chest. I can’t lose you—not to the Wanderers or your own carelessness.

Zayne ceaselessly kept that promise—his devotion unmatched. And you were carelessly throwing it away every single day, right in his face. Denying his care, his treatment.

It all became clear to you in that split second.

He was past waiting for your excuses and apologies; all he wants is to make sure you never forget yourself ever again. 

Zayne props you on his lap once more, leaning back against the headboard.

“I want you to cum—”

It’s embarrassing how quickly you perk up only to be let down when he disclaims his generosity with a contradictory footnote.

“—without my help.”

He rests his head back, the arch of his neck tempting you to plant kisses down the pale stretch of skin; his Adam’s apple bobbing. The silence grows; you feel like you could suffocate from the chill spreading between your two tense bodies.

You shift forward, incredulous. “What the heck do you mean by that?” 

Zayne flickers his gaze to where your crotch snugly fits on top of his thigh. “You’re a smart girl… I’m sure you will figure it out soon.”

You huff, a pout pushing your displeasure right into his face. 

“You’re mean. I already said I was sorry.” 

But, he wasn’t going to budge. If there was one thing Zayne would never compromise on, it was caring for you. Sometimes, it scared you—how utterly serious he took his job as your caretaker in and out of the hospital walls. 

No amount of reasoning could change his mind. It was either you play his game, or walk away with that pit gnawing right at the bottom of your stomach—unfulfilled and gaping.

You lean back. Friction, burning hot, zings up your spine, and suddenly, what he wants you to do clicks in. 

“Oh.” 

You swallow. Outside, rain begins to splatter on the windowpane. The world goes blue and dark, holding its breath in tandem with yours.

Locking your hands on his shoulders, you lean forward. Then, shift back. And do it again and again until you feel the heat burning you up; razing your self control down to ashes as you let out a small, shaky moan. 

“Good girl,” Zayne whispers into the dark of your room. “You’re so pretty like this—getting off on my thigh.” 

You peel your teary eyes onto his softening ones. His jaw clenches, and a vein throbs in his temple. He fights back the urge to thrust up—to meet your sensual grinding. It was a losing battle. Every needy whimper slipping past your wet lips sends a pleasurable jolt to his cock. But, he can’t give in just yet. You had to learn your lesson the hard way. 

There’s an indecent spot of wetness staining his slacks. The dark material of your pants hides your arousal well, but Zayne can practically smell you. 

Sweet musk and a fragrant vanilla. 

His heart thrums wildly, staccato beats that match the constant pulsing of his aching cock. 

I need her so badly. He wants nothing more than to be buried in you; to watch you fall apart under his tender care. 

Every mellifluous whimper dripping from your lax mouth makes him see stars; coated with ecstasy, your eagerness continues to seep into the expensive fabric of his slacks. 

Zayne makes a mental note to get it dry cleaned at his earliest convenience. 

It should’ve annoyed him—this extra chore on his already burdened shoulders. But, he doesn’t care much for the cost of sending his expensive, tailored suits to the best dry cleaners in Linkon City. 

He would let you squirt all over them ten times over if it meant he could bring you to your zenith of pleasure and back. 

Those beautiful emerald eyes never leave yours; devouring every reaction. Studying your shifts and dips. Calculating his next move in his head.

You might’ve thought Zayne was hewn from rock with how quiet he was. 

But, if you would look closer, you would’ve seen how his hands were stuffed into fists right by his side. The shake in his breath when you toss your head back. How he could barely keep his jaw from tightening when you mewl out his name.

I promise to take care of her—no matter what. Caleb and your grandmother were witnesses to his solemn vow. 

He would keep his word. Do everything in his power to keep their precious girl in line—even if she thought it was unfair.

“Zayne, please,” you try to beg again. He only scoffs. 

Mean. He was so, so mean. 

You were aching all over, yearning for it. Needing his touch and attention on your body to drive yourself over the edge. 

Unfortunately for you, his self-control is immaculate. It doesn’t fold nor break. In the operation room, and outside of it, his priority was to maintain a level-headed calm wherever he went. 

But, inwardly, with you on his lap; all pouty, kissable lips and pussy dripping her excitement on his thigh, Zayne finds his famed composure cracking under the weight of your desire.

“Zayne,” you hiccup. “Please. Please. Touch me.”

Large, veiny hands grip your thighs, dragging you close. 

His mouth finally presses on yours, and it feels like a sparked flame striking near a mountain of straw.

He tries to keep his wits—he really does. Reminds himself not to indulge you again; to finally make you see how much he cares for you through this cruel game.

Like a fluctuation cutting through permanent winds that flow steadfastly North, only you had the power to sway his decisions. 

"Zayne," you moan into his mouth.

Then, in an instant, the flame sparks. The mountain of dry yearning goes up.

Every carefully constructed ploy is destroyed. 

Zayne kisses you like his life depended on it. Messy, clacking teeth, spit mixing and running down chins; hot hands grappling any inch of skin available. 

Your clothes were pushed off your body and onto the floor. Zayne’s luxurious vest and button down shirt was almost torn from his body by your eager hands. 

The bare lines of his torso and muscular thighs fit perfectly with yours, his body slotting in between your spread legs. 

Sharp lines bloom down his back, your nails dragging down his skin; his eyes almost rolling back into his head when he sinks into your heat.

“Shit,” he cusses, almost inaudible. The sound of wetness meeting in the darkening room, your moans and his heavy pants fill the air. 

Good girl. Move your hips like that. You’re doing so well for me. I love you. I love you. If you disobey me again, your punishment will be more severe. You’re everything to me, my Aurora. 

“Zayne!” your cry shatters like a bullet unloading from a smoking gun. He almost flinches back when you squeal right in his ear, back tensing and arching like a taut string.

Slipping a hand in between your bodies, he nudges and plays with your clit, drawing your high to an unbearable tension.

He feels your heels digging into his hips, your sweet pussy squeezing down on his length like the world’s most precious love declaration. You bury your face into his neck; feel his pulse fluttering against your lips.

“Inside,” you whimper, as if you could read his mind. “I want you inside, Zayne.”

He grunts, his entire body trembling from the force of the tight band around his lower body. 

Zayne ruts up into you, little more than an animal in heat—the ridges and bumps of your pussy gets him in a higher state of mind, delirious enough to start moaning shamelessly. 

You grip his face, touching your foreheads together. Zayne’s lips find yours, and within that split second you believe something fundamentally true. 

That in every life, every form, every stretch between space and time—you would never forget how his lips feel like on yours. 

A shuddering breath right on your neck. The twitch of his cock nudging right on your sweet, golden spot. 

You tense, toes curling—

—and shatter around his cock gloriously. 

Warmth spreads deep in your body, taking over your toes and fingers. Driving you heady with the taste of him on your tongue. 

Zayne finishes inside you, breathing hard against the shell of your ear. 

The silence is broken by his soft gasp, and you feel the wet pull of his cock out of your puffy pussy. Immediately, he replaces the emptiness with the full circle of his arms around your tired body.

You sigh, sticky and filled with longing, face protected right in the crook of his neck.

“Zayne?” 

“Hmm?” 

He plays with a loose lock of your hair. Not one for many words, Zayne’s actions speak louder and sweeter than any poetry you had ever read.

Rolling you over, he hovers close, lips gently brushing your cheeks, temple and finally, your lips.

“I love you,” your confession spurs something primal and tender in his soul. He kisses you once, twice, to wipe out the dark need to claim you again and again until every fiber of your skin is written with his name.

“I love you, too.” 

He presses one long kiss onto your forehead and chuckles to himself.

"Come on. Follow me to the kitchen. Don't think I forgot about those 8 glasses of water you didn't drink today..."

a/n: if this man wants me to watch for my health, i'll make sure my medical report comes back with an A+

— feedback and reblogs are loved in this house iykyk

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[lyrefromthesea]

Male pillars x reader - bringing them their favourite food.

author's note: due to a comment I've received on an earlier post, i'll not write for Muichiro anymore. i've stated before that i do not write sexual content for minors, nor do i engage in writing romantic relationships including them. everything i've written for him was seen as a platonic relationship between him and the reader. since my statement fell in deaf ears, i've decided to leave him out completely. i do not feel comfortable mentioning him in my posts anymore, my deepest apologies.

request: how would the pillars react to receiving their favourite food from you?

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

Tengen:

you were standing in the kitchen, whistling to yourself. today had been good so you decided to make your husband a little treat.

the market had been rather full, but you walked through the crowd and bought the ingredients you needed for his favourite dish.

seaweed. rice. and already prepared fugu. it had taken quite some time to find it, but you did it nonetheless.

standing in the kitchen, you had already made a plate of fugu sushi. at least that's what you thought. when you turned around to place another piece on the plate, it looked like there was one missing. have you forgotten one?

placing your finished piece on the plate, you turned around to make more. finally, you would be finished-

and another one was gone.

"Tengen! stop stealing the fugu sushi!" you scolded, not surprised when you heard quiet footsteps behind you. he wasn't a shinobi for nothing.

"sorry, darling. you looked so flamboyant, i didn't want to interrupt you!" he answered, wrapping muscular arms around you. a laugh escaped you, feeling him place his chin on the top of your hair.

"have i ever told you that you're the best?" he teased, finally freeing you from his embrace.

"i already know, that's why we're married."

Obanai:

you placed a bowl of tororo konbu right in front of him, telling him that you tried your best. naturally, he thanked you, but he didn't dive in like you would've expected him to do.

"what's wrong?" you asked, wondering if you had messed up the dish. it was your first time making it, perhaps you had missed a step or overcooked something.

"i.. could you maybe..?" Obanai asked, he appeared much more timid than usual. you tried understanding what was wrong.

seeing his finger brush against his mask, you understood, he still felt insecure about his face. you hadn't been in a relationship for long, he probably needed time to get used to this. "of course."

"just know that i would never judge you for what i see." you added, placing a kiss on his temple. truthfully, you were saddened about his request, but you wanted to give him the time he needed.

Obanai, on the other hand, was touched by your words. his meal long forgotten, he stood up, taking your hands in his.

"we should marry."

you looked at him, first shocked, and then you started laughing. perhaps he overreacted just a bit, but who could blame him?

Rengoku:

sweet potatoes. so many sweet potatoes.

when you've told Rengoku you could cook his favourite dish in the near future, he had been incredibely happy about it.

he came back with a load of sweet potatoes the next day, his whole head nearly dissapearing behind the amounts of the root vegetable he had bought.

now, another day later, you put miso soup and sweet potatoes for two on the table, smiling at your enthusiastic husband. he had offered to help you the whole time, which eventually led you to ban him from the kitchen.

he nearly devoured the dish as soon as you were sat on the opposite side of the table. it made you chuckle, seeing him swallow the huge bite he took down.

"umai!"

"you've outdone yourself, i'm glad i brought some sweet potatoes home!" he brightly smiled, earning another laugh from you. some sweet potatoes?

"Kyojuro, you brought a ton of them home." you countered, pointing at the rest of the potatoes you've put on the counter for now. "that will probably be enough for a month worth of miso soup with sweet potatoes!"

"sounds good, don't you think?"

Sanemi:

Sanemi plopped down on the engawa, letting out a heavy sigh. training had been rather hard, but he needed to stay fit. nevertheless, his muscles ached and he could really take a break.

he debated over going inside, he trained enough. a shower wouldn't hurt, he was sweating, dampened hair was sticking to his forehead. the man sighed, standing up to finally move inside.

however, when he saw you standing right behind him, he froze. you were looking up at him with wide eyes, as if you tried surpising him. he looked down at your hands - you were holding something - only now realizing that he had been right. you did try to surpise him.

he looked at the plate in your hands, it was filled with ohagi. his favourite food. his eyes moved back to your face, watching you tilt your head.

"it's for you." you told him, tilting your head to the side. "let's go inside, you've trained enough." you smiled, nodding towards the door. he nodded, following you into the kitchen. you placed the ohagi down on the counter, watching him slowly take one.

"you didn't have to." he said, already having bitten into the one in his hand. you chuckled at his words, he had nearly eaten the ohagi with one bite, yet he claimed he didn't need any.

"i needed a reason to get you away from training." you admitted, a sly smile on your face. but both of you knew he would've listened to you no matter what.

"i would've stopped anyways." he answered, placing the ohagi he had picked up to the side. he came closer, watching your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"what? why?" you asked, not questioning why he came closer. in a matter of seconds, you were in his arms, your eyes squeezing shut in disbelief.

"i wanted to shower." he smirked, basically squishing his sweaty body against yours. you let out a whine, trying to free yourself from his hug, but only managing to do so when he let go.

"great, now i can shower too!" you scolded, seeing him laugh to himself. he walked towards the bathroom, seemingly wanting to wash himself.

"let's eat the ohagi after you're finished."

Giyuu:

Giyuu didn't know what he had expected when he came home today, but he certainly didn't think it would be the smell of freshly cooked food.

no, scrap that. he was often greeted by the nice smell of a promising meal. this was different. it wasn't just any meal.

"welcome home, Giyuu." you greeted, watching him step into the kitchen. you looked content, already knowing that you would make him happy.

"are you hungry? i prepared something for you." you smiled, seeing him nod slowly. when you moved away from the table, his gaze wandered towards the bowls full of food.

your gaze was fixed on him, wanting to catch his reaction. he wasn't the type to voice his happiness, but you certainly caught the way he looked at the salmon daikon you made.

the lightest twitch of his eyebrows and the way his eyes narrowed showed his interest. he stared at the food for a moment, the quiet grumble of his stomach revealing how hungry he truly was.

but he didn't immediately start eating. instead he looked back at you, his gaze softening.

"i've got you this" he muttered, extending his hand towards you. you stared in awe, a small bag of your favourite sweets being placed in your hands.

"let's eat them for dessert, Giyuu."

Gyomei:

when you brought home the ingredients for takikomi gohan. you have wanted to surprise Gyomei with his favourite dish.

you stood in the kitchen, cutting the vegetables into small pieces, as you hummed to yourself. Gyomei should've been home in an hour, at least that's what you've thought.

"i'm home." you heard his deep voice call from the hallway. your head snapped up, looking at the ingredients and then towards the door. you wouldn't have enough time to put everything away. before you even had the chance to react, he already came through the door.

"..are those?" he stopped in the doorway, his head turning towards you. you knew he was blind, but his ability to detect your exact location surpised you ever so often.

the smell of his favourite food hung in the air, almost as if the world had wanted to ruin your surprise.

"i wanted to surprise you." you admitted, lowering your head. you knew he wouldn't be disappointed, but you've planned this since last week. he must've sensed your sadness, walking towards you and putting his hand over yours.

"i can help you, let's cook together." he offered, carefully taking the knife out of your hand. truthfully, you nearly objected, not wanting him to hurt himself, however, you nearly chuckled thinking of the large weapon he was wielding.

"let's call it a cooking date then." you smiled, opening the drawer to get a second knife.

[hearts4mica]

Tell me what to do. To make it all feel better.

What if. The Batboys find out you’ve been messing up your recipes on purpose?

Part 1 here

———————————————————————————

It was another day of baking. This time you wanted to bake something for Alfred since he was the one who taught you how to bake in the first place.

You decided to bake a vanilla cake! Alfred’s favorite of course.

So you obviously went shopping and had to sneak out since Bruce didn’t want you going out by yourself since ‘Gotham is too dangerous’ maybe it is but you’re just going to the supermarket

You bought your ingredients and decided to start baking without your brothers finding out of course you can’t let them know that you can actually bake.

After a while you finished the cake. Its pretty surprising that no one came into the kitchen! Well its pretty early on the weekend so they’re probably still sleeping.

Alfred came into the kitchen and you gave him the cake. He thanked you and grabed a piece.

But

Just at that time Damian walked into the kitchen. Just perfect.

You both just stared at eachother. While you still had your dirty apron on.

“Good morning [name] i see you baked a cake for Alfred… it smells good?” Damian said

“What does that mean Damian! Does that mean you dont like my cooking?!” You said in a dramatic way trying to get him to leave the kitchen but it obviously backfired. “I didn’t bake thi-”

And at that moment Alfred decided to betray you!

“Young Miss [name] baked me a cake Master Damian would you like to try it“ Alfred said with a smug smile he wanted for you to stop poisoning your sibling with burnt cookies.

“[name] baked it? Didn’t you said you didn’t bake it dearest sister?” Damian walks up to the cake grabs a fork and takes a small bite.

“shit…”

“Are you sure [name] baked it?” (That little shit of course you did but he can’t know that!)

“N-” “Yes” Alfred cuts you off once again.

“Oh everyone would love to hear this” he says as he leaves the room.

———————————————————————————

At dinner everyone is sitting silently esting until Damian decides to break the silence.

“Did you know that our dearest sister here [name] actually knows how to bake? In fact she baked a cake for Alfred today and it tasted great” damian said with an evilish grin.

“SHE WHAT?!”

That little snitch.

“Baby bird why would you do that?!” Dick says

Its not going to be a short dinner.

———————————————————————————

At the end of the day Bruce lectured you about it and grounded you now you have to bake something for your “brothers” atleast twice a week! And it can’t be burnt anymore what’s the fun in that?

———————————————————————————

How would they react?

Dick would be pretty upset about this i mean who wouldnt his ‘baby’ sister made her cookies bad on purpose! Were you mad at them for something? You and him are going to have a long boring fun talk

Jason would be pretty surprised that you actually were smart enough to think about this since he still sees you the way you were before his dead

Tim i feel like he already knew that since he spends so much time spying you- he actually didn’t mind the taste it kept his brain busy?

Damian was really upset his older sister gave him burnt cookies! I mean i get it with Drake, but with him your favorite brother?!

[weneeya]

touch starved

m.list | rules

pairing. msby x reader

characters. hinata, atsumu, sakusa, bokuto

note. omg i heard 2020 is back? guess i'm back with it then

⎯ Hinata or touching cheek to cheek

You always came to watch Hinata play, there was no exception to the rule. He was your lovely boyfriend, and obviously your favourite player. It was the first match of the season today, and you were in the front row to see him be as good as he always was. 

When his team won the game, you made your way through the crowd to join him and the rest of his teammates. You waved at Bokuto who saw you first, before your boyfriend turned around and yelled your name with a bright smile. You almost ran and jumped his open arms. 

Hinata did not care, but you were more discreet than him, and he understood that you did not want your intimacy to be shown to the whole world like this. Pressing your cheeks together was the best way he found to keep being clingy to you in public. 

The second you were in his arms, Hinata pressed his cheek against yours, making both of you chuckle a little. He loved doing this so much. It was a simple touch, leaving no room for imagination on your relationship with him, but without being too demonstrative. 

Atsumu or hiding his face in your neck

You slowly turned around to be facing him, but it did not last long, his face soon hidden back into your neck. You ran your fingers on the back of his neck, and he hid his face even more, if only it could be possible. It was those moments which made you remember why you loved this man so much.

Everyone knew how much Atsumu loved to be seen, to have all the attention on him all the time. He was the biggest show-off you ever met, and sometimes you wondered how you ended up dating a guy like him. Until you saw the way he looked at you, and how needy he was between your arms when you two were alone. 

Today was no different. It was early in the morning and you were making breakfast for the two of you. Alone in the kitchen, you were softly humming to the song playing on the radio while cooking the eggs. You were stopped by two strong arms sliding around your waist to keep you in place, and a nose nuzzling against the skin of your neck. 

You giggled softly at the feeling, and one of your hands rested on his arm around you. It was too early for Atsumu to be awake, so you were not surprised to see him being so sleepy and touchy. 

“You should have stayed in bed,” you told him in a soft voice, and he grumbled something against your skin. 

“Missed ya…” You understood in his half said words, before you put the eggs on the side and turn off the gas. 

⎯ Sakusa or feeling your pulse

Sakusa closed his eyes for a second, his touch on your wrist taking note of your calm pulse. It always soothed him down, knowing how relaxed you were next to him while he was a nervous wreck. He stayed like this until he felt his own pulse slowing down, before he looked back at you. 

Sakusa hated crowds, it was nothing new : and being a world famous volleyball player did not help at all. He despised them, but he could not simply avoid them all of the time. Thankfully, you were now by his side to help him get through this. 

It was an important meeting for the teams which were about to play a friendly game for both the public and the wellbeing of practices. The real problem was how many people were there for the encounter. Sakusa was in a pretty bad mood, and everyone had noticed it, especially his own teammates. After a quick talk, Hinata made his way to bring you there. 

You were now by your boyfriend’s side, holding his hand while talking to him to try to ease his poor mind. He was glancing here and there from time to time, but his attention slowly began to focus on you. You knew he was solely focusing on you when his fingers slowly moved down to rest on your wrist. 

He waved back at you before a light sigh escaped his lips. He would never be grateful enough for how much you were helping him all the time, with even the smallest details.

You gave him a light smile, and he nodded as an answer, as his lips were hidden behind his mask. With that, you waved at him and left, the match about to start.

⎯ Bokuto or resting his head on your chest

It was safe to say that Bokuto could not wait until he finally got home to you. The man was tired from practice ; not physically, but mentally for sure. All he wanted to do was to spend time with his pretty girlfriend and care about nothing else but the comfort of your presence next to him. No surprise he almost ran away when the coach told him they could leave the gym. 

He probably never came back home so quickly before, and it almost surprised you who did not expect him to be here so soon. You were laying in bed, reading a book, when you heard the slam of the main door shutting. You did not have the time to move from your position, Bokuto was already in the bedroom. 

Before you could say anything, your boyfriend let his broad figure fall right on top of you. You gasped slightly for air, putting your book to the side so he would not destroy it. A smile dancing on his lips, he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on top of your chest. Eyes closed, he simply hummed softly in satisfaction. 

You decided that it was perhaps the right time to take a break from your book and just relax for a moment. You kept playing with his hair while your free hand ran along the top of his back slowly. It didn’t take long before the two of you fell asleep like this, in the warmth of each other's embrace.

You ran your fingers through his messy hair, and it simply made him nuzzle even more against your chest. It was all he needed, your body pressed against his and nothing else around. Your chest was definitely his favorite pillow ; no wonder why you always ended up like this while laying down with him. 

thank you for reading!!