#whatever n i feel so terrible telling anyone this bc of all of what happened last year I just don't want to repeat it n make ppl feel bad

[kermitheefrog]

we r so over like my anxiety is so bad in these type of settings and i can truly never figure out how to stop being so Afraid of fucking stuff up these ppl r my friends and ive known them years and look they probably aren't going to be mean to me but i'm convinced i'm on thin thin ice

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Playful prompts for tadc cast playing hide and seek with hider reader?

Awe this is a cute idea! (not including Caine bc I see him as the one organizing this game).

.........

Pomni

During her first week inside the Digital Circus, she's slowly adapting to everything...although she refuses to give up on finding an exit.

But when Caine forced everybody to play some hide n' seek, with you being the hider, she really doesn't want any part of it.

However you convinced her to play along, whispering that if she found you first, you'll share what you remembered from your old life as a "prize".

Although initially annoyed you wouldn't just tell her, she becomes motivated searching high and low, opening doors, looking down barrels, etc.

When she finally finds you (courtesy of a glitching object), she's anxious to hear what you had to say-

Unfortunately Caine decides to pop in and put on a big celebration for Pomni winning the game...which goes on the whole damn day up until everybody goes to bed that night.

You seemingly forgot what you were gonna tell her, to which she gets upset and angry that you gave her false hope, sulking in her room.

But you slide a note under her door, explaining that you only recently remembered your real name.

Suddenly she realizes that maybe her memories weren't 100% gone.

If you could suddenly remember your name, then....surely she can, too!

Gangle

After Jax was mean to her during the last hide n' seek game, you try cheering her up by playing another one.

It didn't involve Caine or anybody else. Just you two.

She mopes about being a terrible seeker. But since you're her best friend (and you promised her a prize), she'll go along if it makes you happy.

You decide to hide in spots that she would 100% think to check, deliberately allowing her to win.

Since she's all ribbons, it's easy for her to slink around and squeeze into tight spaces.

After finding you three times, she gets suspicious that you're purposefully going easy on her-

But she stops her accusations as you finally present her prize:

It's a brand new comedy mask!! Except this one wasn't made of porcelain or ceramic, instead being unbreakable material (or at least material that's couldn't casually be broken by anyone, especially Jax).

Gangle sobs with happiness before putting the mask on, squealing over how perfectly it fits, and hugging you tightly.

Thanks to you, she can finally feel joyful again!

Zooble

They'd rather do anything else....

But since this little hide n' seek "adventure" was all Caine's idea, she has no choice but to go along with it.

Even so, she puts the least amount effort into the game.

When you're the hider and she's the seeker, they just pray to whatever god is in this world (besides Caine) that you aren't anywhere in the Gloink cavern.

She'd rather not get discombobulated again.

Sometimes, she'll throw parts of herself in the direction where she thinks you're hiding, hoping to startle you into giving away your location so this dumb game can finally end.

Lucky for you, you know their tricks and keep quiet.

She doesn't expect any prizes (unless it's a limb that makes her body not look like a hot mess).

If they find you, she'll be like "yay I win..now I'm going back to my room" and saunter off.

Kinger

Like Zooble, he'd much rather do something else.

But he goes along with Caine's game anyways after you enticed him into playing for a prize.

Whatever momentarily stops his sanity from spiraling, I guess.

He searches high and low, getting nervous when he can't find you anywhere in the places he'd 100% expect you to be.

Lowkey starts to wonder if something terrible actually happened to you--like if you were trapped and not even Caine could help you.

The last place he could think of was your room but.....he doesn't have your key.

At the same time, he knew you weren't a cheater. You wouldn't hide somewhere that nobody else (except Jax) could access!

In the end, he goes back to his fort to sulk, openly declaring that you've won the game.

As it turns out, you chose to hide in that same fort, and you jump out with a grin, feeling victorious.

Kinger just stares at you for a solid 10 seconds.....before he suddenly screams and asks why tf you were in there.

You feel bad for scaring him, so you reward him for at least trying: a jar with a caterpillar currently wrapped up in a chrysalis.

He LOVES it, but now he carries around the jar every second of the day, staring at it until the little bug hatches.

At least now he has a reason not to fall off the deep end just yet.

Jax

Hide n' seek is like child's play to him.

Somehow this cheeky bastard knows exactly where you're hiding no matter what, even if it's outside the tent (like at the lake or fair).

It's definitely tarnishing your reputation as the best "hider" out of all of the gang.

When you ask him how tf he knew, he just shrugs and says "you're too predictable, try a better spot next time".

Hiding in your room is definitely not an option, as he's stolen your key (and would point out that would be cheating if someone else was the seeker instead)--so there truly is no place to hide.

Like Zooble, he's not in it for some prize.

It is, however, quite rewarding seeing you get so frustrated when he effortlessly finds you.

And that's enough for him

If it's a game involving everyone, then he just straight-up mocks the others for not realizing the very obvious spot (or at least to him it was obvious) you were hiding in.

Ragatha

She's probably the most enthusiastic about Hide n' seek (like you have mentioned, it's a good distraction from the stresses of being stuck in this virtual world).

Is also a fair and honest player, never once peeking while she counts to 10.

Like Pomni, she does her best to find you first, searching places she knows you frequent--or mentioned liking in the past.

But you're definitely the best hider out of everyone, so it's a little challenging.

Still, she refuses to give up!

When she does successfully find you, you and Caine decided that she should get a prize for being such a great seeker.

It's her very own centipede-repellent spray bottle.

While it won't stop Jax from trying to sneak those little pests into her room, the mist will deter them from coming near her at all and help her conquer her fear.

She's forever grateful and sprays it around her bed every night before she sleeps.

Oh, and she'll definitely threaten Jax with it if he even mentioned centipedes around her.

[apprenticestanheight]

THE FIVE DAYS OF SMUTMAS QUEUE: DAY THREE

Somno - Peter Strahm x gn! reader

Allllllll right, we are on to day three of this event and despite the fact that I never really write this many fics in less than a week unless motivation has come around and hyped me to a point where I'm capable of doing it across two days, I am still chuggin on and to be honest, the concept for this fic is largely what's kept me from going down the demotivated slope.

I have had a very not great last two months of the year and so body worship with peter strahm and a touch of angst with hurt/comfort it is, because I needed to write this idea out and figured this event would be a good opportunity lol.

Last note before this fic begins, this fic is meant for audiences of 18+! Minors, do not interact.

Fic type- this is smut and hurt/comfort

Warnings- somnophilia, oral (afab recieving), there is one mention of trauma/anxiety induced insomnia, and the reader is gn for all intents and purposes, but I went with an AFAB reader as that's the anatomy I know best, and this is edited but barely bc I wanted to post oops.

Peter is all too aware of how rough the last few months have been for you.

Granted, you've not said a word of it because you'd sooner see hell than let anyone know when you're going through a rough spot, but since your relationship has begun, Peter has learned to look for the subtle tells you display whenever you feel like your life is about to start falling apart.

Peter is something of a chronic insomniac because of how the on-call schedule of his work with the Jigsaw case has impacted his sleeping capabilities, and so he's used to staying awake for hours on end in case he gets a phone call from someone at the Jersey precinct.

You, however, work a decent and consistent job as a cleaner that pays more than well. You have a set of routines—you wake up at six thirty every morning, make a steaming mug of chai from the K-Cups you adore, eat an easy breakfast and a cliff bar on your way out of the house.

You're at work from seven-thirty in the morning to six thirty most nights, come home and do whatever needs doing around the apartment that you and Peter share, and you watch TV or read until Peter comes home and the two of you order dinner.

You always go to bed sooner than Peter does, typically going to bed somewhere around eleven or midnight where the earliest Peter goes to sleep is one, and then you wake up the next morning and your cycle repeats.

However, since September, whenever Peter has come to bed, you've still been awake, even if it's three or four in the morning. The chai you made with the K-Cups you adore has turned into a steaming cup of coffee that you have to sweeten with brown sugar, honey, and sometimes maple syrup to be able to tolerate.

You're at work from seven am to nine or ten most nights now, and by the time you're home, the housework has been looked after because Peters hired a cleaning lady to come by the house and make sure the house stays clean once every four or five days.

You come home and Peter tries to get you to smile but nothing really does the trick. Peter finds that he misses you, wants to try to goad you into talking it out with him but knows from too many attempts to do so that it absolutely will not work.

But, when he comes home on the 22nd at 7:30, a rarely early time for him get home as the stuff with Jigsaw has progressed, he's completely and utterly shocked to see you sitting on the couch in your living room.

When he closes the door, your gaze snaps to his.

"I owe you an apology," you say. "I've been very terrible at being a spouse the past few months. I shouldn't've subjected you to that. I know I need to be better at communicating and I just feel awful because I've pretty much shut you out and I just—it's just not—it's not fair to you, Peter."

"It's all right, Y/N," he says. "I thought that something had happened, yeah? I figured you wanted space and I was going to give it to you until you decided you wanted closeness again. I know I get angry really quick and am frankly a little surprised I haven't snapped about it but I have worked on not snapping a lot since we started dating."

You've been married something like a decade. It took a lot of storming for Peter to reach the level of evenness, the level of calm, where he stood.

"Yeah, but I've been terrible," you laugh. Peter approaches, sits next to you on your couch. "I've not—it's not been fair, Pete. I haven't talked, I've worked myself almost to the bone, I don't eat breakfast like I used to—all of my routines have been thrown off by this, and I can't imagine how yours have been."

He wishes he could say that he was fine, completely unaffected by it, but to say that would be to lie right to your face, which is something he promised never to do in his wedding vows. He worried about you all the time, desperately wanted to ask you if you were okay and try to goad you into talking to him even though that had never, ever worked in his favor.

Peter grins at you. "I'm just glad you're okay, Y/N," he says. "Had me worried for a stretch, if I'm honest."

"I'm sorry to have worried you," you say. "I've just—work has been driving me mental. I took more hours to get a bit of a Christmas bonus on top of the bonus I get tomorrow to try to ease the mental stuff I've been dealing with and yeah, the cushy paycheck is great but fuck if I don't hate dealing with people during the holiday season. I have been yelled at about how spotless houses need to be more times than I can count."

Peter laughs. "You're the one who decided to go into the cleaning business," he says. You laugh a bit yourself, press your forehead against his shoulder.

"I know," you mumble sadly, a laugh trailing through your words. "But when I started, I'd really hoped I would spend less time talking to people, more time deep cleaning carpets while I had decent music playing through a Walkman. I do get to listen to music but the people are becoming more and more of an issue lately."

Peter presses a kiss to the top of your head. "You're gonna take a bit of time off, mm? You definitely seem like you could use it."

"I booked it last night," you nod. "Tomorrow through til valentines day. I need the time to settle back into routines and I've been drinking coffee religiously—it's more than the one I drink here. I drink at least three cups a day just in the name of keeping myself upright and that needs to stop. I am beyond caffeine overdose. I can drink 600 miligrams a day and not feel a thing."

"That is definitely cause for concern," Peter laughs. "But I'm glad you're okay and that you're trying to get better. I've booked up until the New Year off so that I could catch up on sleep, too, but if we're both home, it means a lot of us time after Christmas. Still goin' up to New York?"

"My mother will put us to death if we don't," you laugh. Peter laughs.

For a solid few minutes, things really do feel like they'll be okay.

-

For what is probably the first time since before he was so much as a cop, Peter Strahm is asleep, you also asleep next to him in the bed that you share, at nine o'clock. He wakes up at six thirty from an unfortunately kinky dream and all he wants to do is part your legs and eat you out until he can't breathe.

Granted—you've spoken extensively about it before, and you've given him the okay to do it several times just as he has you, but still. The part of Peter that's turned on by the idea is equally matched by the part that kind of feels gross about it.

But then, approximately five minutes into unbearably loud thoughts about pulling down the sweatpants you'd stolen from him and parting your legs and devouring you, and five minutes away from just running to the bathroom and rubbing one out to the idea, he watches you press your face against the pillow and moan loud enough for him to hear it.

"Peter," you moan. "Fuck, feels so good."

Peters eyes nearly roll to the back of his head and he bites down on his tongue to keep himself from floating.

He tries to shake out his hands, tries to think of anything else while your quiet, desperate moans fill the air.

He thrums through the Jigsaw victims that've popped up in recent weeks, tries to think about something like the weather or the baseball scores or something to focus on anything but the fact that you're in the midst of a sex dream, one involving him, and the fact that you're moaning your way through it in a way that makes Peter want to lose his mind.

And then, you moan Peters name in a way that you know in your lucid moments drives him crazy, and Peter can't stop himself.

You've discussed it before, and Peters done it before, and every single time he's woken you up with his tongue rubbing wildly against your clit, you've moaned out and started rutting against his face and made a comment about how much you liked waking up to Peter bringing you to orgasm.

Peter is careful to remove the sweatpants you've taken from his drawer, lifting up the shirt you also stole and exposing some of your waist.

He licks a stripe through your folds, not at all surprised to find you're wet if the way that you're moaning from the dream is of any indication, and almost moans against your cunt right then and there.

He starts off slowly, licking stripes against your folds and drinking your wetness down his throat like it's water. Every single time you moan something within him flutters, and he knows it's been too long since he's taken his time with eating you out.

And then, as his tongue attaches to your clit, he feels one of your hands move to his hair.

"Best way to wake up ever," you whisper. "Oh, Peter. Thank you."

You sound half-asleep, but Peter moans against you and you tug on his hair encouragingly, so he keeps going.

He runs his tongue in circles over your clit, sliding a digit into your wet hole without a thought in the world, fighting a smirk when you moan and tug on his hair again.

He starts thrusting, sets a pace that has you writhing within minutes, and takes his fingers out in the last split second before you release, replacing his fingers with his tongue and lapping up your cum without thought, care, or merit. You thrust against his face in the aftershocks, moan as he gets up from his position.

He pulls you in for a kiss while you use one arm to amble through your nightstand for a condom, feeling Marks half-hard, clothed-but-only-by-flannel-pajama-pants length against your bare thigh.

You pull away only so that he can take his pants off, and you slide the condom on with care for how hard his cock is. He peppers your neck and jawline with kisses as he slowly thrusts into your sensitive folds, moaning as he bottoms out.

"I love you," he says to fill the silence while he waits for you to adjust.

"Thank you for dealing with me when I'm at my worst," you press a kiss to his cheekbone. "And for waking me up in the best way ever. Love it when you eat me out, Pete. You're so fucking good at it."

Your legs are wrapped around his waist and you squeeze his hips to tell him to start moving, and when he does, he sets a slow pace. Despite his fervency when it came to oral, he did intend to actually make it known that he did love you and wasn't always in it just to get you or himself to orgasm as quickly as possible.

His pace is slow indeed, but not slow enough that you're pretty much begging him to pick it up a little, and his thrusts are languid in a way that's perfect.

Both of you start moaning after a bit, and Peter, the guy who never moans and usually just likes hearing how you sound when you do, is moaning lewdly and loudly into the nape of your neck while you moan quietly near his ear.

"Peter," you moan. "Peter, fuck. You're so fucking good at this, yeah? You're treating me so well, baby. You're amazing."

Peter moans, clearly enjoying the praise, and you rut your hips against him.

"Fuck," he moans, picking up the pace just a little. "Fuck, Y/N. I love getting you so slick. You were dreaming about me, yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod. "Yeah. We were fucking at the precinct, in one of the storage closets."

Peter moves a hand to rub your clit, loving the moan that it brings out of you.

Minutes pass by of the same, and your release triggers Peters. You moan each others names as you come, and while you go pee to make sure you don't end up with a UTI, Peter pulls the condom off and trashes it, gets a bath going for the two of you.

In the bath, you talk of plans for the day, which will consist entirely of going to the shops together, reading books and doing last-minute christmas shopping.

All in all, you're happy that Peter woke you up with oral and Peter is happy that you're feeling okay enough to want to be woken up that way again.

[dinlukewarrior]

Anakin is a Shit Jedi Master

aka, I finally watched Tales of the Jedi and I CANNOT get over how terrible of a master Anakin is

(disclaimer: I have not seen tcw so you know. feel free to come to my house and kill me or whatever)

so first off he's late to this extremely important test/showcase (padawan final exam?) for Ashoka

(the Jedi Masters that bothered to attend--Yoda and Obi-Wan--are already there. so he's late for his padawan in front of his master AND boss which is crazy. Anakin stays not giving a fuck about anyone)

2. he doesn't seem to regret or be bothered by being late at ALL and THEN IN THE SAME sentence admits that "he really wouldn't know" if Ashoka is a fast learner / how she's doing as a padawan

(hands off is one thing, this mf has his left foot out too ! )

then, when Ashoka aces this test with flying colors (wowing the younglings who are watching her) does Anakin say "hi Ashoka. so sorry I was late to your extremely important Jedi Test. You did amazing. I'm so proud of you" ? NO

3. he jumps right into "actually the test sucked. you have no skills"

which, okay, he COULD HAVE said "omg snips! great job. however, I noticed some weaknesses in the training droids. I think you can do even better. we need to step it up."

he did not do that. 0 points for emotional intelligence.

4. THEN THERE'S THIS SADISTIC TEST HE DEVISES

a/n: ok, yes. I know the entire point of this episode is to show how Anakin actually did train Ashoka perfectly to defend herself from a clone army (aka Order 66) and saved her life. THAT'S NOT THE POINT. it's the way he did it

the first time Ashoka gets knocked out, she's out FOR AN HOUR. AN HOUR. at this point, we know the clones themselves are starting to get worried bc Anakin says "Don't worry, she'll wake up."

when she DOES blink into consciousness, does Anakin re-assure her? does he have a juice box for her? does he give her some pointers before they re-set? NO! THIS MAN JUST THROWS HER BACK IN

It's genuinely cruel.

If this wasn't a TV show, if she was anyone other than Ashoka, she would get both extremely sick and frustrated/humiliated. Ofc Ashoka pushes through bc that's the plot but I could not believe how obviously fucked up she is during the episode.

Anakin doesn't even attempt to break her fall when she conks her head (approx. 3457 times) on the durasteel floor

under no stretch of the imagination is this an effective teaching method. Ashoka just 'happens' to get it bc...she's that bitch idk what to tell you.

so, Anakin's approach to being a "Jedi Master" is to 1) be almost totally absent, 2) care 0% about his padawan's physical and emotional health, and 3) take her into battle as a child soldier and do war crimes for enrichment

IN SUM: obviously, Ashoka needs to be tested and pushed--like all Jedi padawan--to be sharp and extremely skilled. but the way Anakin treats her shows a complete lack of compassion or even basic human decency.

[somedeadbeatloz3r69]

LONG ass paragraph/essay of me yapping about how the people who ruined me + how I'm gonna treat myself better bc I've realized I'm better than every1 else, btw U should think UR better than everyone else (no it's not narcissistic, if anything it should be normalized). and stuff like that and yeaaa :3

SECTION 1 I'm gonna start pushing everyone I once was close to away from me, my mind and just my life. I'm gonna start to let go and pretend like we were nothing more than friends. It hurts when I think back on all our memories, but it was nice while it lasted, right? I'm gonna start living for myself. If I meet someone I'm not gonna plan ahead with them what we should do (unless THEY wanna) and I'm gonna meet new people/friends who are like me and who'll accept me for who I am and not make terrible (problematic) jokes. Even then, I'm not gonna get attached or get close to anyone. I'll always feel the void of that person who left me, and it'll hurt, but it's whatever. It does hurt, thinking about how we planned to grow up together n live across from eachother n shi, and it does hurt knowing all those years were wasted, and it does hurt knowing I'll never be that close to anyone again, and if I am I'll still be thinking of you. It hurts knowing how bad they ruined me. But it gets better thinking about how I'll meet people who'll treat me better. Maybe not make better memories, but treat me better. I'll always have a place in my mind for the 4 of the guys who I got close to and they literally ruined me and altered a part of my thinking. But I'll live on. I'll live on for myself this time. And I will think about them everyday, lingering in the back of my mind, but I'll act like I'm not. and I'll try to block and push away the hurt. I'll always treasure them more than anyone else. secretly. But I'll always hate them more than anyone else, publicly. I'm gonna be a new person. It's a new start with new people and I'm gonna try and do it better. I'll start keeping track of my feelings and instead of trauma dumping to people I know I'll start writing down how I feel. (or venting to tumblr because like hey tumblrs free therapy) SECTION 2 for awhile I've been putting my trust in people and getting close to them. and every time they end our 'friendship' they take away a piece of my feelings or some shit. Every time it happens it hurts for a less amount of time and I hate it. it's weird and I wanna continue to weep over it but I just can't. I just tell myself, 'oh well, it was nice while it lasted.' and I think that's just me letting everything go. I don't really care if anyone am/was close to leaves me in some sort of way. I just brush it off and pretend we were never close. I feel like it's some sort of way to cope. That or I'm used to it by now. Which is weird, because I shouldn't feel like this when my favorite person ever just dropped me. Shouldn't I be crying? screaming in pain or betrayal? no. Instead I'm just detached from reality, sitting and staring at whatever's in front of me, robbed of my feelings and perspective of what's real or not. It's so crazy. What do you mean we're never gonna do all that shit? What do you mean I can't just look at an airplane anymore and think 'I'm gonna be in those to meet up w/ him one day.'? It's so weird. It's like I hate and love(platonically) everyone who I've gotten close to. I can't let go but I can. I don't understand any of this.

[zukuist]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞

200 followers special

includes: multiple characters (would add more tags but.. i reached 30 ;;)

your name is shortened to y/n, they/them pronouns

notes: thank you for 200 followers! this isn’t really going to be that long, but im just doing the characters i really like so ;; ALSO I MIGHT’VE GOTTEN KIRI’S ENTRY A LITTLE WRONG so ugh sorry ;;

—

shouto todoroki

— THE OBSERVANT SIMP

from the start, he’s quite oblivious to certain things, (social ques, signs of romantic interest, etc.)

but when he’s observant with someone, then that totally means you’re special to him. does he realize how much he pays attention to you? hmm.. maybe?

he’s going to be the first one that notices you’re hungry, even if you don’t realize it yourself. he’s quick to grab a snack and break it open to you

same thing with being thirsty— if he notices that your water bottle is empty, he’ll quickly find the nearest vending machine and buy a bottle.

temperature is also no problem. he can immediately tell whenever someone’s cold; but he usually helps you first

too hot? he’s slowly putting down the room’s temperature

too cold? his left palm starts emitting some sort of heat in your direction, hoping it creates some sort of aid

if your shoelaces are undone, and/or he notices that there’s a button undone on your shirt— he’ll fix it for you

will ask to take your pictures on dates, and he’ll also help you pick out the best photo (not that any photo of you is short of any beauty)

in short— people will notice that he’s actually a big simp for you; because of how observant he is with you specifically.

katsuki bakugou

— THE TSUNDERE SIMP

just because he’s simping for you doesn’t mean he’ll treat you any differently. bakugou will be bakugou, and you eventually learn how to adapt to that.

but even so, his simp habits slip out sometimes.

when he’s cooking, he’ll accidentally make too much to eat, and he’ll coincidentally put the extras in another box and hand it to you

he’s a good student, even with studies. but would he say he’s a good teacher? hm. probably not

but if he notices you need help, he’ll sigh, feining annoyance as he decides to tutor y’all, because those ‘idiots’ are hopeless

rolls his eyes when he sees food on your cheek, but he’ll grab a tissue and wipe it off for you— claiming how you’re so messy.

he’ll act like he hates hearing your ‘annoying ass singing’ but he’ll lean against the doorway and listen to you rock out to whatever song you’re singing to.

denki will call him a simp for looking after you, and bakugou will just yell at him to “SHUT UP” >:T

he secretly likes taking care of you. his words aren’t the softest thing in the world, but his actions make up to it.

izuku midoriya

— THE DETAILED SIMP

as katsuki bakugou would call him; he is a nerd

he definitely meant that as an insult, but his input on detail makes it very useful in things like relationships

he remembers every detail of your quirk, your limits, potential secret moves.

it would’ve been stalker-ish, if it weren’t for the fact that deku does this out of admiration for his s/o

so if you so happen to collapse due to overusing your quirk— deku has a detailed plan on what to do. it’s almost scary.

he puts detail in a lot of things, anniversary gifts, birthday gifts, and so on.

deku’s also the type to plan things weeks before it actually happens. like.. planning out the perfect birthday gift

and with this, his memory is really good. so it’s very unlikely that he’ll just suddenly forget anniversaries and birthdays.

i hc deku as a bad cook, so he eats takeout food more than his homemade food

but he’s takes note of your allergies, your dislikes with food— and he finds himself mumbling small details to recall what you like

when you walk out in pretty/good outfits for dates

his face will break out into shades of red— suddenly rambling all the good details of your outfit, complimenting you while he’s at it

“y/n’s looks fantastic as always. i might die from their beauty”

if anyone calls him a simp, he’ll be really embarrassed about it. “me? a s-simp? is that a bad thing?”

just tell him it’s fine.

denki kaminari

— THE HYPEMAN SIMP

a big simp

like.. really big

he worships the ground you step on, and hypes up everything you do

y’all know when irene from red velvet literally breathed in north korea, and the crowd just

*claps*

yeah, that’s denki to you

it’s so blantly obvious that he’s simping over someone, and everyone’s just kinda used to it at this point

he’s just a big fanboy sometimes

whenever you’re sparring with someone, he’s always in the background like

“go s/o!!” 🤩

and he has tendencies to go a little easy on you like.. what’s he gonna do when you get electricuted??

but that doesn’t mean he’s never serious— nah.

there are times where he’s just a little bashful just being in your presence

sneaking glances your way, as he silently fanboys about you in general.

“s/o looks really good today. they always look good but !!”

when y’all weren’t together, the bakusquad was just tired of the constant romantic pining

it was really obvious that he was simping back then, and they’re not so sure as to how you didn’t say anything about it

mina always called him a simp

so yeah!! it was a big relief when you got together with him. he never makes you feel terrible, because he’s always your #1 hypeman.

eijirou kirishima

— THE HELPING SIMP (rip idk what to call this)

i didn’t really know what kinda name i went for this one but let me carry on

kiri upfront is very confident, and friendly. he never shows a mean side to anyone,

and there are rare cases of him being bashful

he’s kinda almost like a golden retriever? since he’s always nice and friendly to everyone

but then when you enter the room; he suddenly goes quiet, and he’s left alone with his rather loud thoughts about you

he didn’t really know how to properly approach you at first

but him being kiri, he’s still rather friendly to you (for now)

when he’s messing around, practically sharing one braincell with kami and sero

and then you suddenly walk in— he snaps out of his foolishness, and greet you with his very warm smile

“hey y/n!” he waves at you, and he hopes you don’t mention the teasing look on both kami and sero’s face

sometimes when he’s doing his close combat training, and he notices that he’s getting too close to you

he’ll be like “woah man, maybe we should move locations.” bc he doesn’t wanna hit you by accident ;;

kirishima prefers to not stand near you when his hair is all spiky. like he’s never conscious about it, until he’s around you

man poked sero with his hair before, and he doesn’t want to do that to you

kiri always looks at your hand, just to see if it’s occupied with something. his thoughts linger to what your hand might feel like

“their hand looks really.. soft. argh! i shouldn’t be thinking about these kind of things in public! im sorry y/n”

bakugou really only notices kirishima’s simping ways

bakugou always mentions the fact that kirishima goes really silent whenever you’re around—

and he’s secretly contemplating on having you around more so he can just shut up 。・°°・(＞_＜)・°°・。

moving aside all of that, kiri always carries your things.

you’ll beg him to give you at least one thing, and he’ll say no because it’s “not manly to let someone carry all of this.”

if you’re sad, he’s the first one to cheer you up— reassuring you that everything will be okay.

kiri’s just wants to be at your service at all times! it’s manly to help people, right?

hitoshi shinsou

— THE DISCREET SIMP

no one would be able to tell that he’s simping for someone

because unlike kaminari; he’s not like IM HITOSHI SHINSO AND IM ACTUALLY A SIMP

he’s a lot more discreet, and no one has really caught on, besides you and kaminari of course

he’s a lot less sarcastic with you, asking you about anything that’s happened instead of just being there

he prefers it to hear you talk. the way each word and syllable rolls off your tongue smoothly, and the way you use your hands to emphasize things

he’s amused.

oh and the way he looks at you? almost any normal person can sense the simp in him pop out (he’s so contained though)

he’s definitely the person that’ll get rid of any bug that’s terrifying you— even though he’d normally just leave it to them

he’ll do it, regardless if it’s the biggest fucking spider he’s ever seen, or the smallest spider

he’ll do it to make you feel safe.

he has these random spurs of compliments during the day

the source mainly comes from his staring habit

and they’re just so unexpected and out of the blue. hitoshi’s amused whenever he sees your reaction to his compliments

like.. you could be really frustrated about something, and he’ll just go “your eyes are pretty.” that’s his discreet method tO MAKE YOU TEMPORARILY DISTRACTED FROM THE ISSUE—

call him a simp, whatever. it’s true anyway so he doesn’t why should he be ashamed of it?

he’s discreet about it, since it’s your business and his business. but you can definitely feel his feelings loud and clear

neito monoma

— THE 180 SIMP

“i’m not a simp!”

[you enter the room]

*nervous laughter*

he had his last laugh, and he never thought he’d be this soft around someone.

especially if you’re from class 1-A like.. i became the thing i hated, ugh.

relentless teasing is amped but this is his way of making sure you remember him loud and clear

but he’ll never tease you in a condescending way— like how he torments the rest of class 1-A

that’s reserved for them 💅

always compliments you, that’s the first thing he does when he sees you—

and they’re never generic compliments either

“it’s nice to see you here, y/n! you make the world better day by day!”

“i’m still wondering what you’re doing in class 1-A, you’re much better than them!”

everyone secretly wonders how you got monoma to like you

monoma canonically likes pastels. spread the word

so sometimes, you’ll walk over to your desk— and you’ll just see this random pastel ornament sitting on your desk

you know who it’s from

whenever monoma starts becoming annoying, kendo will definitely use you as a weapon to make him shut up

he’ll be laughing at the expression on his face, thinking he’s absolutely winning at this

but the smile is wiped off his face when he hears “ok go on, i’ll tell y/n about your antics.”

“no, no! i’ll behave now, please don’t tell y/n.”

class 1-b literally use you as blackmail whenever monoma acts up, and it’s because of how different he is around you

like.. his personality takes a 180, (besides the obvious teasing) it’s alarming

—

©️zukuist 2021, bnha|mha belongs to horikoshi kohei. do not repost my work❕

[ilaikyuu]

How many characters do you take at once? I was gonna ask for Yuji Gojo Nanami Megumi toji and geto for flirting HCs but idk if it’s too much?? Err— maybe split this into a two parter if you can’t do it all at once, but yeah basically how do they “romance” a crush and show that they seriously like them 💐

It's mb I'll post rules at some point, but anyway ill split it into 2 parts!!

~~~~~

💔Hcs: "love can be found in the smallest acts of kindness"💔

Featuring Megumi, Nanami and Gojo

💔Megumi💔

m.e.g.u.m.i ajbfhas

okay, this pretty boy totally seems like someone who has no game at all, hate me if u want

 buuuuuuut…..for what he lacks in flirting and showing his feelings, he makes up for in his actions so pls don't get mad at him

 he is a goofball that smiles at you almost at any given time, even when u make shitty jokes or weird faces, he just appreciates it from afar bcs he doesn't want to ruin the moment 

 Megumi mastered the art of not showing his emotions to anyone fight me on this

for him it's in the little things - he gives you from his favorite snacks or in an argument comes around just to drop a cold remark towards the person arguing with you

u know i feel like he does that thing where when there's a car too close to you he just pulls you closer to him for a second so you don't accidently get hit or hurt

“Please be more careful”

“Megumi the car is 10 meters away, even a plane cant get hit by it

“shut up”

when it comes to compliments and romance….oh boy, ur in for a one

terrible flirting, 3/10, he picks one of these shitty pick up lines from quora and forgets it by the end of the article

“Y/n, uuuh, ummm"

“Are you okay?”

“Uh, oh, do you know CPR because,tc wait, because I cant breath wait…oh my god-”

“MEGUMI DO U NEED A DOCTOR ARE U-”

no no, maybe not this bad, but…eh

tbh if u came this far, i don't think this will be a problem in my opinion shy boys are best boys

u get it, let's skip to the confession part 

honey, sorry to break it down to u but no.

Megumi Fushiguro won't come to you, say “Marry me” and live a happily ever after with you and your 3 kids named Samantha, Barbaba and Jessica

he will wait for u 

the best possible outcome, for him at least, is you being the first one to confess your feelings

i mean

if you don't confess, he will do it but

the poor guy will tell u “meet me at the exit by 6” and just leave.without.saying.a.single.fucking.word

so u go there, ur a nervous wreck he is a nervous wreck and the only thing happening between the two of u is him looking u right in the eyes and just just

stare

stare

stare

“I like you”

“What”

“I like you”

jokes aside it won't be that bad. when megumi is serious, he is serious. he will patiently wait for your answer

whatever u tell him it will be a bit awkward but he tried his best so!!

won't tell anyone that you're his gf and everyone will find out a month after 100%

in conclusion megumi fushiguro may not be the best at these kind of things, but he will do anything just to see that bright smile on your face never disappear

💔Nanami💔

totally more of an action over words person as well

for him flirty lines and sweet talk aren't what being in love means, its more of a toying around

he takes flirting and turns it into physical contact

light touches

u get hit by something, his hand is instantly on your shoulder rubbing it

“Are you okay?”

the more he sees that u dont feel uncomfy the more he uses touching to his advantage

when u are sitting his hand is always behind your back, sometimes playing with your hair, moving a few strands in between his fingers

the next thing you know his hand is on your thigh, his thumb drawing small circles on your soft skin

just to be sure, he will give you the “is this okay” look

oh god how can it not be okay

when it gets late he will always drop u home, doesn't matter the time or the location

he isnt a child so no confession will happen, the moment u feel his hand around your waist u are his, right then and there

he just knows how to treat a woman, thats it 

💔Gojo💔

opposite of the two i was just talking about

oh my god just the way his voice sounds is enough to make u fall in love i cant im-

he has a patented, pathetic tactic

at first he throws shit at u, he teases you and annoys till u go absolute apeshit

in the beginning u just laugh it off or go with it and try to annoy him as well

but

it has been 2 weeks of nonstop bullying

“Ah ah, I spilled my drink, is there anyone with napkins?”

“...”

“I said is there anyone with napkiiiiiiins?”

“me”

“And who is me”

“ME”

“Ohoh didn't hear you, my hands are full can u clean this for me?”

“n-”

“Y/n how can you say no to something like that when a vulnerable man asks u to? My hands are full i might slip accidently on it and i can't clean it myself”

“...fine.”

“Y/n….u know…i don't want to interfere between u and the coffee puddle but…I think you just missed a place right there.”

“CLEAN IT YOURSELF TH-”

but it's okay, its okay

everything is a part of his plan 

when u are in between hating him and wanting to smash his head with a stone he'll call u to meet him for important work and try to apologize

he will put his hand on yours, moving and caressing your skin, asking for your forgiveness, telling you he didn't know how angry his bullying made you, how he crossed the line

he will get close, start murmuring sweet nothings into ur ear, telling u how much he is sorry, how he wanted your attention

he will comfort you, take you home, apologize once more and-

“Tomorrow maybe I’ll start with a compliment, going to be angry again?”

he will whisper it slow and quiet into your ear, curl a few strand of your hair with his hand and just say goodbye with a smirk like nothing happened

yes he is a dick, but once u are his even god will struggle laying a finger on u

[soulwillower]

semi-charming •  bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x reader smut)

requested:  Do you have any bill denbrough x reader’s that you have finished that can be posted? I really love your work I re read it like everyday lol :)    +      AKANSHAKAKMA U SHOULD POST THE BILL DENBROUGH HATE SMUT AHHHH     +     don’t be shy post the b.d hate smut 😀🔫🥰🌝

i haven’t posted a fic in well over several months but i hope u guys like it :) im here and around still so send me something if u wanna chat <3 i also have re opened my requests lkajsdlkaj

also - i gained a lot of new followers while i was gone and im sure some ppl want to be removed from my taglist SO: i am gonna start a new taglist!!! pls send me a message and let me know if you want to be on it bc after this post im starting fresh  !!!!!!!!!

warnings: drinking, mentions of weed, dorm living, almost-strangers hooking up, smut, choking (light), light spitting, a tiny bit of dirty talk, switch!bill, its kinda fluffy smut tbh, enemies-to-lovers but its so lowkey, kinda cute guys, neighbor-ish au, 

(losers + reader are 19+.)

4.1k words

♡

the first time it happened, you wrote it off as unintentional. 

it's happened to everyone: you're joking around with your roommate, or reaching over to grab your laptop, and you fall off your bed to the floor. you knock over your lamp or someone knocks over the handle that was sitting half-empty on the mini-fridge. the tile on the ground of the dorm rooms are hard and cold and don't do much to quiet the noise of anything, so you get that. 

but whatever the hell was going on in the room above you was not that. it was three in the morning, and your head was spinning in that sickening way that only happens when you take too many drinks in a short time and find your way to bed for a few hours before being startled awake. 

a loud thump made you jump in your bed, heart racing as you woke in surprise. 

it was around twenty more loud thuds from your ceiling (in a span of barely two minutes) that you gathered the energy to slide out of your bed, sliding on your dorm slides and throwing on a shirt to cover your near naked body before storming into the hallway to climb the most challenging single story of stairs in your life, right to your upstairs neighbors' door. 

your hand was banging on the door for a mere five seconds before the door swung open and a terribly confusing sight fell onto your eyes. 

three boys who you've only ever seen in passing before in your dorm, all shirtless and heaving breaths. the one who answered the door, possibly bill or mike (judging by the stupid name tags on their door), has bright eyes and dark auburn hair that reflects in the dim light of the hall, backlit by the neon purple from inside the room. his sweaty bare abdomen made your eyes twitch as you glared at him, suddenly more irritated because he's kind of really hot and stupid and annoying, and you needed to sleep.

"hi.” he said casually, and you could tell he wasn’t entirely sober, either. 

“so what is your fucking problem?" you said in lieu of a greeting, half-asleep and pissed beyond belief (also still drunk). the boy who answered the door raised his brows, head turning with a brow raised, as if to ask his buddies 'are they for real?' before turning back with a large, cocky smile, "pardon you? we already turned down the music." 

you blinked, knowing you must have seemed so rude and looked insane but it was a weeknight and you had class in the morning, "wh- what, no- i'm not here about music. it's like three, you're slamming on the floor and i can hear it like i'm in a fucking tornado in my room below you so you need to knock it off." 

then the other boy, further back with foggy glasses, started laughing. the other one laughed too, rubbing his neck sheepishly, still breathing heavy. "what the hell are you guys even doing in there?" you added, running a hand through your hair in exasperation. 

"they were trying to bench press me. but then bill decided to start doing squat jumps onto his bed." the boy with glasses explained as he rubbed his chest, still concealed by the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the stupid LED neon lights that every single person in the dorms had lining their rooms. that explained the thudding. 

"why." you'd deadpanned. you were too tired for this, but you'd wanted them to understand that it was keeping people up. "richie got us kicked out of Pike for stealing their doorknobs and pledge class photos." the third boy says, elbowing the boy, richie. "we felt like working out, but then richie said we couldnt press him, so..." he trails off at the look you give. 

"you want my workout routine or something?" richie asks you. you sharply inhale and bill smiles, "well, if that's all, we'll be going. i've got one more rep to get in." 

your eyes widened, jaw dropping at his words. he'd laughed, then, and your eyes couldn't stop as you stared at his sculpted abs flex in the light. god damn it. 

"chill out, neighbor. sorry to wake you from your beauty sleep." he said as he noticed your look, and you wanted to fucking hit him. 

you rolled your eyes, picking up on his facetious tone. "whatever. just knock it off. thanks," you'd griped, sarcastically smiling at them before trudging away towards the stairwell. and you'd caught it when bill muttered, "is now a bad time to assemble my ikea desk with my drill?" 

you'd run into bill once again a few days after when you'd gone to use the bathroom on the floor above you where your friend lived, washing out the bowl you'd used for lunch. a 'shh!' had made your brows furrow as you'd walked in, not paying attention as you'd heard a shower stop and a girl laugh from the other side of the bathrooms. 

but a deep voice grunting 'ow, fuck' made you freeze and then feel hot, wondering what kind of luck you have to be in the bathroom when some people were hooking up in the shower. but you're reminded that you had the worst luck when you go to leave the bathroom and two figures round the corner, hair soaking wet and hoods pulled over their heads. making eye contact with him, he must've seen how flustered and irritated you were, because he cracked a grin, "good to see you again, neighbor. you sleeping well these days?" 

that was only a few days ago. you'd seen him in passing at a party at one of the frats, but had avoided any interaction with him after you saw him and his friend with the glasses snickering to themselves after sneaking looks to you. god, you didn't want to face them again - they were so mocking, so cocky.... so rude, and they made you feel like you were being insane just for wanting to have peaceful sleep. bill was not your favorite person. 

but as bad as the first two experiences were, the third time you had the misfortune of interacting with bill, it was the worst. 

your roommate was out for the weekend, and you'd found yourself stuck with your leg and ankle pinned between your heavy file cabinet under your bed and your bedframe, unable to scoot it over on your own to free your leg. 

you were planning on relaxing tonight, after being stood up from a booty call hook up. you’re mad, frustrated, horny, and close to tears now that you’ve gotten yourself stuck pinned to your bed.

it’s nearly one in the morning, and nobody’s in the hall. 

but then, bill walked past your open door as you struggled, and desperately you called, "hey!" 

his double-take into your room, his head poking in, would have been charming if the face was anybody but him. 

"what?" he asks, suddenly noticing it’s you. his voice is not charming and calm as you've seen him be with other peers, but in your stubborn mind, you convince yourself it’s fine; you don’t like him, either. 

"i'm stuck, can you help?" you say despite your thoughts. 

he sighs, dropping his backpack next to your bed and then tugging to try and move the cabinet. 

"how did you do this?" he mutters as he pulls as hard as he can to pull it, but your shoe is too wedged diagonally against the floor, cabinet and frame. you sigh, "thought i could nudge it to the side with my toes, i dropped my dab through the crack." 

he chuckles, trying to instead shove it backwards instead; to no avail. "smart girl." he says sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, trying to help him shove it. "what was the point of you keeping me up all fucking night if you aren't strong enough to move this shit?" you say, exasperated because it's starting to dig into your calf. 

he stops, rolling his eyes at you. "has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit rude?" he asks, moving closer to you to try and push it away. you look down at him from where you stand, elbows on your mattress. "no. you're just a dick. fight fire with fire, or whatever." you mutter, face feeling hot. 

you can't stop staring at his shoulders, his arms - they're so hot, the veins popping out of his hands and forearms, the smell of his aftershave wafting into your nose from where he kneels next to you. 

he just hums. "i'm going to try to push your leg forward and then push the cabinet away." he states, and you nod, just wanted this nightmare to be over. you're still terribly embarrassed and the proximity to such a hot and confusingly irritating boy is making you lose your grip. 

it takes a lot in you to not jolt when his warm hand wraps around your bare leg and starts to pull you, his strong hold on you making you tingle. "what's your name?" he asks, and you almost laugh as his grip on your thigh tightens, the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your skin making you hot. this is insane.  "y/n." you struggle out, throat feeling dry - there's no reason his hand needs to be so high up on your leg, but some part of you really wants it. "it says that on my door." you say breathlessly. 

whatever he was going to reply with is cut off as he tries to readjust his grip on you and the cabinet, but his hand slides up and grazes the skin near the apex of your thigh, coaxing a sharp gasp to fall from your mouth. 

he turns red, looking up at you, "god, sorry." he mutters, and you bite your lip, unable to look away. 

you kind of forget to say anything, stuck staring at him, heart thumping as wetness pools between your legs just from this boy's touch. god, you've got to get laid. 

his arm is wrapped around the onside of your leg, thumb reaching higher on your thigh than his other fingers, and for a moment you hesitate before deciding to go for it: you drop your hand hand to his hair, pulling lightly as you 'steady yourself,' smirking as you feel his shaky breath against your thigh. 

you don't even care about getting unstuck now, all you can think about is being fucked into the mattress by this asshole boy from the fourth floor. you’re not sure where this feeling came from. 

when he finally pushes the cabinet away, causing you to stumble to catch your ground. he helps you get the cart and then push the cabinet back, awkward small talk making you want to die. "why were you down here anyways?" you ask, rubbing your leg. "mike kicked me out to be with a girl and all my friends are out for tonight." he sighs, rubbing his neck. "i have to do homework tonight, just going to find somewhere quiet to get it done." 

"that's surprisingly responsible." you say, looking at him wearily. he gives you an annoyed look, "what's that supposed to mean?" you roll your eyes, "you don't seem particularly academically motivated." you state, unsure if you're coming across as flirtatious or just a dick. he gives you a look as he moves to grab his things from next to your bed. "you seem more pleasure motivated." 

you catch your mistake immediately - and he does, too, smirking. you stutter to fix it, "don't be gross." you defend weakly. 

he's biting his lip and something rumbles in your chest, flames in your abdomen. it's hard to gauge if you don't like him or if you do. maybe you're just horny.

"i thought you were cute, you know, until you showed up at three in the morning to chew me out." he mutters, eyebrows raised, "i get that that was annoying, but it was a saturday. everyone was drunk, i don't get why you are still being a bitch." his face drops when he says that, as if he didn't mean to say it at all, but he doesn't take it back. you shrug, not too offended. he kind of has a point, "i don't get why you have to make everything so much harder than it has to be. doesn't matter how hot you are,  i don't have to like you, you know." you say, crossing your arms with a smirk. 

"believe me, i'd rather you not like me." he says, smile on his face troubling. you look at him, trying to gauge why you're feeling so flustered, why you want to jump his bones right now no matter how annoying he is. "then why haven't you left yet?" you challenge. you figure if you're reading his actions wrong, this gives him an out. 

"because i kind of want to fuck you now." he says boldly. you just smirk, walking towards where he sits on your desk chair, lowering yourself to straddle him. he looks up at you, eyes large and mischievous as he pulls you down on him all the way, your hips grinding lightly. "i think you want to fuck me always." you whisper, lips hovering above his, teasing. you're eating up all his attention, soaking it up and savoring the way he watches you. 

you boldly snake your hand down between the two of you, lips still refusing to touch his, your hand starting to tease his clothed cock as it hardens under your palm. you stroke him as you lean, almost kissing him before pulling away. he glares at you. 

then you move your hips, the tension in your room killing you. he lets out a half-moan, causing you to buck your hips again, relishing in the pleasure it gives you. he leans forward, trying to catch your lips, but your hand catches his chest, your lips just centimeters from his own.  "fuck you, y/n." he says, fed up with your teasing as his hands squeeze your ass, moving to the bottom of your thighs and then rising with surprising ease, holding you against him and making your heart thump in shock. he takes four long strides towards your bed, tossing you on it. you grin, expecting for him to climb onto you, but instead he's walking towards your door, making your heart quicken. is he leaving? 

he slams your door shut, though, and it makes you smirk as he clicks the lock. you're on your back, the sight of him upside down making you bite your lip, eyes nearly even with the bulge in his sweatpants. 

he walks up to you, and you eye him as he bends forward, hand catching your chin, holding your head forward with a strength you didn't expect. "look at me." he says suddenly. you blink, feeling hot as you stare into his eyes. 

"don't tease me." he says, and you swallow, heart racing in excitement. "okay." you croak, and it seems to satisfy him because he tilts your neck from here he holds your neck and chin, kissing you soundly on your lips. you feel on fire at his touch, squirming as you slip your hands into his hair - it's making you so needy that he's holding you, almost trapped on the mattress, kissing him upside down. 

he pulls away and you flip around, allowing for him to climb onto the bed, barely enough time before you pull him in for another kiss, this one heated and desperate. 

he bites marks on your neck as your hands palm him, pushing your own thighs together in need. slowly, you push him down against your mattress and sling a leg over his hip, moving to straddle him. his hands find your hips easily, looking at you like you're the only thing ever worth looking at; your breath leaves your lungs and you steady yourself, the reality of how fucking beautiful bill is hitting you at once. 

you pull his shirt off, yours coming off, leaving you in just your shorts and underwear. he palms your tits, pinching your nipple as you grind down against his cock, whimpering at the feeling of his pants against your clothed clit. "if only you'd come up to my room like this." he says, and you snap your eyes to his, seeing the teasing grin but glaring at him. "maybe you would've been nicer to me if you knew how good i'd make you feel." he whispers as you resume your hip's movement, "shut up, bill." you hiss. he laughs, his thumb making contact with your clit takes you by surprise and you jump a bit, moaning quietly as your eyes close in pleasure. 

"take these off." he mutters into your mouth as you bite his bottom lip. you take off your shorts, quickly resuming your spot straddling him, his lips trailing from your breasts to your throat and then your mouth again, grinding against him in need. he toys with your slit over your panties before he pulls them slowly to the side, spreading your juices on his long fingers, humming as he brings his fingers to his lips, watching you as he licks his fingers. you nearly moan, impatient enough that you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips faintly; "do you want me?" you whisper against his lips.

"i wish i didn't," he says, "but yes. do you want to do this?" 

you're breathless, beside yourself with need, "yes." you say quickly, tugging his sweats off and tossing them to the floor. "fuck you, by the way." you spit, flipping him off. he grins and it's fucking beautiful, his smirk, his red cheeks, heaving chest. budding hickeys bloom over his neck and chest as he catches your hand, tugging you forward over him, whispering, "you're about to." 

you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your chest, hand falling over his as he pumps himself. your thumb swipes over his tip, spreading his precum before opening the condom he'd pulled out of his pocket (you don't even want to know why he brought one with him to study) and roll it onto his cock. 

and then you’re pushing aside your panties and stabilizing yourself on bill’s chest. you line yourself up on him and look to him for one last confirmation. he nods, “quick fucking around, babe.” he says, but his voice sounds desperate and his cheeks are flushed and you let out a strangled moan as you sink onto him, the nickname making your stomach flutter. you have to stay and give yourself time to adjust to his size, his moans swallowed by your own mouth as your tongue swipes his. his hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, your ass, your breasts and then rising to cup your neck and back. 

“shit, bill.” you whimper as you slowly start to move up and down. his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim, his hands falling to your hips. your eyes watch his thin necklace shine in the faint light from your lamp and he's filling you up perfectly. 

he looks like fucking heaven.

you kiss his neck lightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers grip the sides of your thighs.

“fuck, y/n.” he whispers, staring at you with his lips caught between his teeth. the feeling of him stretching inside you and hitting the perfect spot has your legs shaking already, breathing heavily. he’s soon surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arms rising to your waist to hold you as you move.

"you're much better when you're not talking." you mutter as you fuck yourself on him, moving your hips as you bounce. he rolls his eyes, "i'd fuck you every day if it meant you wouldn't come ruin my fun every night." he quips back, eyes challenging. and your hand rises to squeeze around his throat, at first as a joke, but then he smiles brightly, a smirk that stirs something in you and you squeeze ever so slightly, the feeling of his pulse making you moan. 

his smirk sends butterflies through your stomach, pleasure swirling in your core. but then his own hand rises to your own throat, squeezing lightly.

you moan, unable to keep it together. "you think two can't play this game, y/n? it's like you don't know me." he tuts, seemingly pleased as you're flushing, gasping as your legs stutter, his hips moving up to meet yours, strokes hitting you deep. “i don’t,” you whisper, and he hums. 

your legs stutter after one particularly satisfying thrust and he grabs your hips, lifting slightly and biting his lip as he starts to thrust up into you. “oh, my god,” you moan as he hits your g spot and he curses under his breath.

your hand comes up to rest on the wall behind him as you meet each other half way, hitting a spot deep inside you that has you moaning his name loud enough for anyone to hear. you hope to god your next door neighbors are out. 

he presses his lips to yours and you know its to get you to stop being so loud - it makes your toes curl in pleasure. then his thumb snakes its way to your lips, his grin widening when your lips immediately part and suck on the finger, humming around it as your hand rests on his neck, the other over his abs as you bounce. 

"so pretty like this, y/n." he leans up, then, sitting up more and changing the angle, making you gasp with a moan as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to his face with the hand on your face. he pulls his thumb from your mouth with a light pop, your legs barely riding him at your proximity, instead steady on his hips, his cock warm and stretching you. "do you think you'd look pretty under me?" he asks. you swallow, moving your hips again and sliding on his cock, movements making you stare at him, pleasure building. 

"i think you would." he whispers, hand still on your neck. you whimper a bit, sliding off of him, allowing him to climb over you, kissing you soundly before pulling you to the edge of your bed, legs hanging off as he stands in front of you. lifting one leg, he kisses your knee and holds it up as he teases your slit with his cock before sliding into you again, causing you to let out a loud moan, his own melding with yours. 

your eyes roll back at the new angle, legs shaking as his fingers dig into your thigh. “wanna see your f-face when i make you cum.“ he mutters, hand rising to thumb your lip, dragging your bottom lip down.

 "you think you're gonna make me cum?" you bite, knowing no man you've been with has been able to. 

you watch as his eyes admire the half-lids of your eyes, the blissed, fucked-out look on your face. your chest is littered in blossoming hickes, varying from pink to dark red and slightly purple already. 

he says nothing in response to you, but pulls your leg further open, spitting down onto your cunt, making you moan lightly, the action being terribly sexy. his thumb finds your clit and starts to rub perfectly in counteraction to his thrusts, his lips finding your nipple. 

you gasp in pleasure, panting as you start to wonder if he really is going to make you cum. then his thumb rubs circles on your clit and as he presses lightly, you can’t hold off any longer. “fuck,” you hiss as you hit your peak, your orgasm making your legs shake. you can’t help it, gasping and bucking your hips as you clench against his cock in bliss, your orgasm causing you to tug his hair in ecstasy. “so pretty.” he mutters against your neck, pressing kisses to it as you’re moaning and arching your back. "so good, cumming for me." he says cockily. you're panting as you whisper, "shut up," his hips still pounding into yours. 

“god, you're such a sweet talker.” he mutters sarcastically as you look at him desperately, his eyes fall shut in bliss, a deep groan leaving his lips, you can tell he's close. 

"and you're such a gentleman." you jest back, pulling him closer by his shoulders, eyes shutting in bliss. he hums, strokes getting sloppier, "i let you cum first, didn't i?" he counters. 

you huff a laugh, something in your heart twinging in affection. you kiss him so you don't say something stupid, moving your hips with his. a few strokes and he's pulling you closer to him by your back, whimpering into your mouth, “y/n, fuck.” beautiful moans fall from his cherry colored lips as he cums, and you just stare at him in awe, surprised by how hot it is as he says your name. he rides his high and then falls off of you, onto the mattress between you and the wall. 

"hey," he says after a few moments of you both catching your breaths, your hands overlapping on your stomach but not nearly holding hands. it makes you feel warm in a weird way. excited, nervous. 

"what?" you ask, turning to stare into his eyes. he smirks, "you think we woke up the downstairs neighbors?" he whispers, eyes alight with tease. 

you shove him, smothering him with a pillow while he laughs, pulling you onto him. 

tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie  @decafcoffeew

[lexxiisstuff]

Hii may i request Kisaki Angst, where we had an argument before he went to mission then when he comeback reader died, mybe bcs his enemies attack the reader like tht...n lol regretful kisaki shshshs thank youuu btw i really enjoy your hanma storyy hv a good day

this hurt to write omg. Kisaki loml😭. Alsooo my first request ever btw so yay I'm really excited I hope you enjoy it <3 ( Also I'm sorry it's super short I have tons of assignments left and I'm trying to pace myself lol)

Warnings: swearing, death, fem reader

*************

𝑲𝒆𝒊𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒋𝒊

"Just stop for fucks sake!" Keisuke turned to glare at you and you winced. The two of you had been arguing for days and somehow still, neither one had felt like there had been any break through "God don't you have an off switch."

"Stop being such an asshole then Baji! I apologized more than once for coming to the warehouse! I know I'm not allowed there, but can you blame me, you've been acting different! You haven't been talking to me for weeks! I needed to know if something happened" You ended sadly. The only reason you went to that stupid hideout was to see if you could get some answers as to why your boyfriend had been so down and instead he'd seen you, grabbed your arm and dragged you out before you could talk to anyone.

"If something did happen it's none of your godamn business" He hissed. He knew he was being difficult but he didn't care. He couldn't care.

"How can you say that? How could you possibly say that after all the shit we've been through. All the shit you put me through. What the hell is going on with you?" You hated the tears that welled in your eyes. They made you feel pathetic. Weak.

"You. You're what's wrong with me. Save the pity party for later I have places to be" He grabbed his jacket and made his way to the front door of the apartment you shared.

"Keisuke. Wait. Please just don't go yet. Please" You couldn't help it. You knew whenever he walked out that door there was always a 50/50 chance he'd never come back "I'm sorry. I'm sorry okay. Don't leave angry. Just stay a minute"

"I don't have a minute. I especially don't have a minute to deal with whatever your problem is. I'll see you later" He heard your quiet sniffle and felt his heart tug.

"Okay I love you" You said it softly but he heard it and he promised later he'd make it up to you for not saying it back as he shut the door. You felt your heart dropped. He never ignored your I love yous . He'd never been able too and it that moment you felt the last of your hope deteriorate.

"Why don't you just tell her?" Chifuyu muttered. Baji had been in a mood the whole mission, he wasn't concentrating, barely present and had a permanent scowl etched on his features. They were just lucky he'd succeeded in doing what he had to do but Chifuyu had enough of his friends bitter moods.

"Because she doesn't need to know" How could he tell you that a month ago he'd accidentally killed an innocent. A girl who was your age, who had your hair color, your eyes.

"It wasn't your fault, Keisuke. She was collateral. She jumped in front of the boy you were supposed to kill" Chifuyu put a hand on the dark haired man.

"It was her brother" He said angrily.

"Who was a renowned drug dealer, rapist and all round terrible fucking person. She chose to die for him. Leave it at that. Tell y/n. The whole story. Before you lose her because of your stupid actions"

"Keisuke" Baji watched curiously and anxiously as his friend Kazutora stood silently in front of the apartment building.

"What are you doing here?" Kazutora frowned not knowing what to say.

"Baji listen to me I need you to sit down" Baji tensed. A chill sliding down his spine. Something wasn't right and unease curled around him like a blanket.

"What happened? Where's y/n? Is she okay?" He attempted to enter the building but Kazutora held him back shaking his head lightly.

"Keisuke there was an incident" Kazutora said softly "Some guys got into your apartment. Y/n was home. There were guns involved, man. She.. She didn't make it"

She. Didn't. Make. It "That's not fucking funny Kazutora. Move. Now. Before I make you"

His friend hesitantly took a step back and glanced at Chifuyu anxiously. Baji bounded up the stairs. His stomach clenching at the sight of the familiar apartment door. The handle broken. Mikey stood at the entrance.

"Where the fuck is my girlfriend? If this is some joke you, Kazutora and y/n are playing its fucking cruel. Tell her to come out. Right now"

"Baji. I'm sorry. I wish it was, man. Fuck I really wish it was. Four bullets to the chest. One to the arm. She couldn't have survived it. Some of the guys heard the gunshots. Alerted me and Draken. We knew this was your area, wanted to check things out but when we got here she was already gone. I'm sorry"

He couldn't breath. He shook his head repeatedly "No no no" He tried to enter the apartment, Mikey grabbed his arm.

"Don't put yourself through that. It's not a sight you want to live with"

"Don't fucking touch me" The apartment felt cold. Empty. Lifeless. His heart caught at the sight body in the middle of the room covered in a sheet he knew belonged on the bed. The bed the two of you shared. With trembling fingers he knelt down and carefully lifted the sheet and all of a sudden it was too much.

Grief washed over him in waves and he couldn't help the small sob that got stuck in his throat. "Y/n? No. Baby no. No no no. What happened? Fuck. Fuck I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. Oh God please. Please."

He cupped your cheeks and sobbed harder at how cold they were. And soon it wasn't only grief that washed over him but memories. Memories of you laughing at the lame pick up jokes he told you . Of you interlocking your fingers with his whenever you were in public. Of you snuggling in his lap whenever you were sad or stressed. Of you kissing away his worries.

"I love you. I love you so fucking much. I'm sorry I didn't say it back earlier. I'm sorry, I was a godamn idiot. But you knew right, pretty girl? You knew I love you" He cried into your hair. Shuddering at how still you were

He couldn't lose you. He couldn't do it. He couldn't live in a world where you didn't exist. He felt something inside him break. It could only be his heart. He heard the crack, felt the life inside him leave him slowly, almost like his soul was following yours.

"You can't go sweetheart. You promised to marry me" He wiped his tears but he couldn't help how hoarse he sounded "You're too young. You have too much ahead of you. Much more than the likes of me. God. Thank you for fucking choosing me though"

The last words he said to you rang through his mind over and over again "I don't have a minute. I especially don't have a minute to deal with whatever your problem is. I'll see you later" Fuck. Fuck. He felt like he was on fire. Like he was being suffocated by guilt, grief and anger simultaneously.

"Keisuke Come on. Come on" Kazutora grabbed him dragging him away from your lifeless form.

"She probably hated me Keisuke" He sobbed into his friends chest " She died not knowing I loved her. Not knowing because I decided to be a fucking asshole and not tell her"

"She knew man. She knew."

"It should have been me" Keisuke whispered softly "It should never have been her"

"It shouldn't have been either of you" Kazutora said vehemently "We'll find the fuckers that did this"

"I know. Because I won't die until I do" He would find them. He'd avenge you. Make those bastards suffer. And then he'd regret this day. Regret the choices he made because somehow he knew he was just as responsible.

[forever-rogue]

A Bucky request for you queen: Reader takes Bucky to meet her family for the first time, and he’s already nervous, but he’s even more nervous when you ask if he wants to hold your sisters new baby bc he doesn’t wanna hurt the baby and he thinks he’s still damaged.

But eventually you convince him to hold the baby and then he sees how good you are and he thinks about having a family for the first time and things can either get fluffy or smutty, whatever u r feelin

Have a great day love!🤍

A/N: enjoy some soft fluff! 🥺

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none

PART 2

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Bucky?” you stared at your reflection, putting your earrings in to complete the final outfit touch. You were getting ready to head over to your sister’s house in order to see her, her husband, and their newborn baby for the first time. You were excited to go, beyond ready to see her again and meet the newest addition to your family. Meanwhile Bucky was going through a series of emotions as he tried to ground himself and settle his nerves. He’d been reluctant to agree to go, not because he wasn’t happy to come, but more so because of the bundle of nerves that had welled up at the prospect of meeting a tiny, brand new life. As soon as he’d seen how your face light up in excitement at the prospect of going over, he couldn’t say no when you invited him to come with you. Then again, Bucky could never say no to you, “are you ready to go, my love?”

“I’m ready,” he agreed quickly as he stepped out of your shared bedroom, clearing his throat as he pulled on his leather jacket. You turned, flashing him a dazzling smile that still made him weak in the knees, when you noticed a worried expression on his face. You flounced over, hands going to his shoulders as you offered him a reassuring squeeze. You gazed into his eyes, trying to gauge what was going on in his mind when he let out a small huff. He knew you could read him like a book, “alright. I-I’m nervous about meeting...the baby.”

“James,” you reached up and rested your hand on his cheek, relaxing as he lightly keened into your touch. His hands found purchase on your waist as you leaned into him, brushing your lips against his, “you have nothing to be worried about. She’s just a baby, she’s got no right to judge and she won’t. She’ll see Uncle Bucky and fall right in love. Talk to me, love, tell me what’s going on.”

“You’re going to laugh,” he turned his gaze away, but you reached up and put your hand under his chin and shifted his gaze back to you, “it’s stupid.”

“I’m not going to laugh,” you insisted quietly, “you could tell me anything and it wouldn’t be stupid.”

“I just worry,” he sighed after a few beats of silence passed between the two of you, “what if...what if he’s still in there? Some small part of him and he...snaps. Or something. She’s going to be so small and all it would take it one little-”

“Bucky,” you reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly in your own before lacing your fingers together, “you are not him anymore - he is not you. He never was. You are James Buchanan Barnes and no one else. He is not a part of you anymore at all. You are free of all of that. You are good, you are. I know sometimes it’s harder to believe than others, but it is true.”

“I know,” he closed his eyes for a few moments, lashes fluttering against soft skin as a small sigh passed his lips. He squeezed your hand back before resting his head on your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his waist, “it’s just...I don’t want to have a moment of...weakness.”

“You won’t,” you insisted softly, “maybe right now you don’t need to believe in yourself, but can you believe in me?”

“Always,” you could feel him smiling lightly against your warm skin as he nodded.

“Good,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his head, “now, trust me because I trust you in you. Now, let’s go, otherwise we’ll be late and then then everyone will be mad.”

“Everyone’s going to be there?”

“Just my parents, my brother, my sister and her husband and the baby of course,” you stepped back and looked him over before leaning in and kissing him quickly, “they know you, Bucky. The real you and they love you. There’s nothing to fear. Might I also add that you look very handsome today. You’ll knock ‘em dead.”

“You look beautiful,” you just happened to be wearing one of the dresses he loved most on you. He’d never commented on it, but you’d seen the way his blue eyes had lit up when you’d first worn it. You figured it would be something to help ease his nerves, almost to ground him as you had a suspicion that he might be nervous. He’d gotten much more comfortable around your family over the last year, but you knew that his general anxiety and fears sometimes bubbled up, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you promised as you held your hand out towards him. He strode over slowly before taking your hand in his and inhaling and exhaling deeply. He could do this - you knew he could and he knew he could too. Your support had meant everything to him and have him that little push he needed to get over the lingering bit of insecurity he had.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“She’s so small,” you said softly as you held the small baby in your arms. She was sleeping soundly, her little lips forming a perfect pout as you rocked her gently, “she’s beautiful.”

“She better be,” your sister joked, “nine months and then 30 hours of labor - she better be beautiful!”

“You’re the worst,” your eyes widened in surprise before you giggled quietly, “how’s she been?”

“Aurora’s been so good,” she said and you traced over her chubby little cheeks, “lots of long days and nights and more dirty diapers than I care to admit, but she’s worth it. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“I can see why,” she was so small and tiny, a new life that had so much ahead of her. The idea made your heart melt, “it must all be terribly scary and exciting.”

“It is,” she agreed as she nudged your knee with hers, “what about you and Bucky? Ever think about starting a family of your own? You guys have been together for a while and it’s something to think about…”

“We’ve...vaguely discussed it,” you confessed, looking up just in time to spy Bucky casting a quick look at you. He was mid-conversation with your father and brother but shot you a soft smile before turning back to the conversation. Your breath caught in your throat as a warmth settled in your belly, setting off a course of butterflies. What you hadn’t seen was all of the other gentle, tender glances he’d been throwing your way since you’d gotten there. You sister cleared her throat before drawing your attention back in, “but umm...it’s never really gotten that far. I dunno what’s going to happen, but I like to think maybe one day we’ll get married. I don’t see a future with anyone else.”

“You really love him, don’t you?” she asked softly as you nodded, feeling a warmth creep up into your cheeks as you avoided looking at her face.

“I do,” you bit your lip as you stared at the small baby that had started cooing softly. Her eyes slowly opened as she nodded before looking around and smiling. She waved her chubby little arm around before reaching for your finger and curling her fist around it. You beamed at her before pressing a kiss to her forehead, “just like you already.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Bucky?” your voice was soft as you walked outside to the backyard where he was standing and watching the sun slowly setting and painting the sky in brilliant pinks and purples. He hesitated for the slightest of moments before turning to you with a half smile on his features.You were holding Aurora in your arms, and she was already back to being half asleep. His nerves shot up but he quickly calmed down when he realized how tranquil the portrait painted in front of him was. You made it all seem so easy and effortless - it was new and foreign to you too, but you were handling it so well. Maybe he could as well, “would you like to meet your niece? To hold her?”

“I don’t...I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said softly as you both took a few steps towards each other. You offered him a hopeful little smile as the baby opened her eyes and turned to look at Bucky. He met her eyes and she babbled excitedly at him. Suddenly, something within snapped as his whole demeanor shifted and his expression softened as he took in a shuddering breath. He could do this, he realized, he could do this.

“Bucky?” this was more hopeful and optimistic as he came towards you and cautiously held his arms open to you. He only nodded as you looked at him to make sure it was okay. Shifting the tiny human from your arms to his, you watched as Bucky took to water like a duck to water as he made sure she was secure in his grip. It was a sight to behold and you felt your heart beat wildly.

“She’s so...new,” was all he could get out as you laughed at him. He almost couldn’t take his eyes off her as you gave his shoulder a squeeze, “so tiny.”

“That’s kind of what a baby is,” you joked as you stuck your tongue out at him and he jokingly scoffed, “see, it’s all easy squeezy lemon peasy.”

“It’s not as hard as I thought,” he confessed after a few moments, “it feels…”

“Yeah,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his head as you finished for him after a few beats of peaceful silence, “I know.”

“Do you think I could have a few moments alone?” he asked as you nodded, standing back and admiring the sight of your boyfriend holding your niece. It struck up something within you and while you weren’t quite sure what it was, you couldn’t help but revel in it.

“I’ll be inside,” you promised, “dinner will be ready soon.If you need anything, just say the word and I’ll be right there.”

“I know,” he grinned, “I know.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Bucky watched you walk back inside and close the screen door, holding a hand up as he lightly waved back at you. A wary sigh escaped his lips as the baby watched him with nothing but curiosity in her eyes. He’d held babies before, in another life, one which was stolen from him but had led him here. But he wasn’t angry about that anymore; he’d spent many years in anger about it and he was past that. He knew, one of the things that had helped him out of that anger and hatred was you. If his cards had been played any differently, you wouldn’t have been a part of his, and you had slowly but definitely become one of the best parts of his life.

It felt so foreign but so right in that moment as he stared at the small life in his arms. He’d never really pictured himself with a family of his own, once in his old life he might have, but he hadn’t in a long time. With you, something had trickled in, slowly blooming over time to become stronger and stronger. And after seeing you with the baby, there was something in him that had come full circle. And as he looked at her little face, he couldn’t help but wonder what your own child would like. Would they have his eyes? His dark shock of hair? Or would they take after you? Either way, he knew whatever child the two of you might have would be beautiful.

“Hi Aurora,” he whispered to her as he allowed him to touch her cheek, finding the faith and trust deep within himself, “you’re still so new to this world. You don’t know about all the horrors and scary parts yet. But there are so many good things too, lots of beautiful things. I will do my best to protect you from all the bad parts, I promise. Whatever you need, I will be there.”

She smiled at him, a toothless, gummy thing as he beamed at her. Maybe...maybe one day this could be a reality for the two of you as well. Bucky let himself relax as it felt like a weight lifted off of his shoulders at the realization that he was okay. That nothing had happened and nothing would happen. He was okay...he was okay. He closed his eyes for a moment as he remembered how you looked holding her earlier. The sight had sparked something within him too; it was a sight he had thoroughly enjoyed seeing. For the first time in a long time, he had allowed himself to think that maybe he could have this too, that he could have a family and happiness of his own.

A sigh, this one contented and happy, escaped his lips as he cradled Aurora against his chest and watched the sun disappear behind the horizon, “I think maybe one day I could be a dad. I think..I think I’d like that. Especially after today...I feel like it could be an actual possibility. I was nervous about today - meeting you. I know it sounds silly, especially since you’re just...a baby. I wasn’t sure if I could...trust myself - it’s still hard sometimes. Not often but there are times. You helped me to see that maybe it’s not so hard after all. Whatever it is, I-I’m willing to try. Especially with your Aunt. You’re going to love her, you know. I do.I really, really do. I think she’s everything.”

“Bucky?” you poked your head out the door and beamed, “dinner’s ready!”

“Coming,” he slowly made his way back over to you. Opening the door wider, you ushered him inside, a hand going to the small of his back as he handed Aurora back over to your sister. He returned to your side, an arm snaking around your waist as he kissed the top of your head, “hi.”

“Hello my love,” you grinned back at him, “how’d it go? She seemed to like you...you seemed to like her…”

“I did,” he agreed, “we had a good talk. Well, I did most of the talking, but she’s a good listener.”

“Hmm,” you snorted in laughter, “you’re something else, Barnes.You’re lucky I love you so much.”

“I love you, sweetheart,” he leaned in so he could whisper in your ear, “maybe later we could talk. There’s some...things that have been on my mind for some time.”

“Bucky?” you gave him a confused look but he cut you off with a soft kiss to your lips, “everything alright?”

“Yes,” he promised gently, “everything is perfect.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Marvel Taglist (add yourself to a taglist here!)

@qhbr2013  @greeneyedblondie44  @april-showers-and-flowers  @softboiipascal @im-an-adult-ish  @patzammit  @niki-xie  @xxlovingfandomsxx  @startrekkingaroundasgard  @welcometothepedroverse  @actual-spawn-of-satan  @punkerthanpascal  @lazybeeches​ @someday-when-you-leave-me​ @justgivemethekeys​ @salome-c​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​  @neptunesglow​  @artsymaddie​ @haildoodles​

[calaofnoldor]

What’s Mine

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 7,595

Summary: The secret you and Sam are hiding from Dean is threatened by your inability to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings: 18+ no actual smut but plenty of implied smut, pre-smut, and smut adjacency lol, secret dating, enemies to lovers, jealousy and possessiveness (exhibited by both sam and reader), slight obsession with sam’s big ass hands (i blame this largely on @walkerboy290​‘s glorious hand porn gif sets), and language

A/N: inspired by and written for @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ bc she’s been bugging me to write smut and using her birthday as a bargaining chip, so i hope you’re happy sai. happy (belated) birthday babe! i suppose in my subconscious need to truly honor you, this became the longest one shot i’ve ever written... that and this is now also a little birthday gesture for the brilliant and beautiful @sams-sass​​ (damn your close birthdays!) even though she never asked for smut (if you hate it, i’ll write you something else!) happy birthday to you too, darling!

also written for @superbadassnatural​‘s 333 badass followers celebration with the prompt “___ and I are together.” “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa.” and @writethelifeyouwant​‘s 300 follower fic challenge with the prompt “All the pretty girls like Samuel” (both prompts are bolded in the fic) i’m sorry i’m so late! congratulations to both of you and thanks for letting me enter your challenges!

[basically i have a lot of people to blame for this disaster 😂]

Square Filled: Secret Dating for @spnfluffbingo​ and Enemies to Lovers for @girl-next-door-writes​ Make Me Feel Bingo

MASTERLIST

The waffles on your plate are surprisingly good for a sketchy, 50’s-themed diner, but unfortunately your attention is elsewhere. In fact, the two distinctly masculine voices behind you have been obnoxiously impairing your ability to savor the buttery, syrup-doused carbs since their owners sat down in the adjoining booth. It’s the topic of their discussion that disturbs you, and nips at your conscience until you realize you can no longer take off without imparting a few words to your oblivious colleagues.

Turning your head subtly to the side, you try to catch a glimpse of the men you’re about to confront in your peripheral vision. From what you can see, they’re both rather burly, a little rough around the edges, and from what you’ve heard, recklessly cocksure. You know the type all too well. Being a lone hunter of the fairer sex for most of your life means you’ve long since learned that the best way to combat their kind is with a steadfast façade of thick skin and unwavering confidence.

So you sigh and put on your best smile before turning around, crossing your forearms along the top of the booth seat, “Listen fellas, I hate to interrupt, but I really wouldn’t bother with the bamboo dagger and Shinto priest if I were you.”

“And who the hell are you?” the one with shorter hair demands. He’s a bit stockier than his companion and has a face that looks like it was designed by Abercrombie and Fitch - well that explains the arrogance.

“I’m the person who’s about to save your asses evidently,” you respond with a smug grin, trying not to let their absurdly good looks deter your act.

Abercrombie’s partner, the Fabio wannabe, releases a quiet scoff, “And how are you gonna do that?” he questions dubiously.

“By letting you in on a little secret…” Throwing him a tight smile, you lean forward and lower your voice, “That ōkami you’re after? It’s not an ōkami, it’s a ghoul.” Sitting back, you await the outrage.

“What?! But that’s not possible, I checked the lore. And it’s obviously got a type.” Fabio’s glossy chestnut locks fall across his delicate features as he shakes his head in disbelief, and you almost snort out loud. How did this amateur expect to hunt with hair like that?

You look him over, taking in the broad shoulders and muscled arms, as well as the obvious height advantage he’s got over Abercrombie even whilst they’re both seated. To be honest, you’re surprised he’s referencing lore at all. Guys his size always assume they can either outman or outgun whatever obstacles cross their path, and they almost never take women like you seriously, despite your ample years of acquired knowledge and invaluable experience. It’s this experience that surmises a bit of antagonism here is inevitable, so you might as well get a head start.

“Yeah well maybe you should check again, big guy,” you glance down at his hands, your first mistake as their sheer size render you speechless and subsequently agitated at yourself for the momentary lapse of visceral lust, but the show must go on, “Make sure those giant, lumbering hands of yours don’t fumble over anything important or you might miss the connection to Isabelle Harding. You see it’s not ‘a type’; it’s revenge.”

“Wh- Bu- I looked through the files. I wouldn’t have missed that,” Fabio insists.

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you type ‘Isabelle Harding’ and ‘1987 school bombing’ into your search bar and see what comes up?” you gesture towards the laptop on their table with a raised brow. Minutes later, both men are dumbfounded by the revelation on the screen, staring between it and you with their mouths agape.  

You chuckle silently at their faces, “Don’t worry, there’s no need to thank me. Although you rookies might wanna go home and let the more experienced hunter finish up here.” As you’re about to bid them farewell, you dip back in to add, “Oh and a word of free advice, maybe don’t discuss supernatural monsters quite so loudly in public spaces next time. It might invite unwanted attention.”

With that, you turn around and slap some cash down next to your unfinished waffles, before grabbing your jacket and strutting out the door.

Sam is left in utter confusion. The sudden animosity you had spouted his way seems completely baseless and unwarranted. Had he somehow offended you? Sam generally considers himself a highly respectful and fairly easy-going guy, not quite as hot-blooded as his brother, and thus not as likely to provoke such antipathy from a complete stranger. To make matters worse, he certainly can’t deny that something about you had registered within his subconscious as inexplicably attractive, despite the way you’d embarrassed him. In his flustered and slightly aroused state, it had been all he could do to remain awestruck in his seat and stare blatantly at your ass as you walked away.

The next time Sam sees you is only twelve hours later and no less humiliating. You’re mid-swing in the killing blow against what you had accurately predicted to be a ghoul as he and Dean tumble in. Despite the low lighting, Sam is once again stupefied by your raging beauty, augmented by the incredible skill you’re displaying in a much more physical sense this time around. Before he can drag his eyes away, there’s a collective shout of “watch out!” and suddenly you’re right in front of him. In a blur of events, you somehow manage to push Sam out of the way and successfully decapitate the unexpected second ghoul that had been sneaking up behind him, with only a slice across the arm to show for it.

“Didn’t I tell you two to go home?” You’re panting from the exertion and Sam’s gaze lands on the neckline of your shirt, skewed from the fight and revealing a good amount of cleavage. He quickly averts his eyes. What is happening? Sam can’t remember the last time anyone had evoked such a staggering reaction from him. He feels as if he’s a mere spectator in his own body.

Across from him, you press your hand against the wound and curse when it comes back covered in blood. At your groan of pain, Sam finally finds his voice again, “Shit. I’m so sorry! I don’t know how I missed that other one. I- that normally doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s what you say to all the girls, huh?” you reply offhand, still a bit out of breath.

It’s easy for Sam to dismiss your mocking given that he feels terribly guilty for being the cause of your injury. From where he’s standing, the cut looks deep. “Here, at least let me stitch it up for you. It’s too awkward a position for you to do it yourself,” he offers, holding out his ginormous hands to you like he’s waving a white flag.

“I think you’ve done enough damage for one day, haven’t you, big guy? At this point, I’d rather Abercrombie over there be the one behind the needle.”

“Who- what?” are the first words Dean speaks since the action has died down.

You turn to face the shorter guy, “Oh don’t look so surprised. You might as well be the model for a slightly older Ken doll. Are you up for it or not?”

Dean’s mouth hangs open as he tries to determine whether he should feel flattered or insulted.

“Uh- actually, I’m better at stitches than my brother,” Sam butts in.

“With those jumbo, fumbling hands? Yeah, sure you are, big guy,” you decline skeptically.

“It’s Sam,” he states through a clenched jaw.

“OK, Sam. Since I just saved your life, you mind making yourself useful and burning those bodies while your bro puts my arm back together? You know, as a ‘thank you’ perhaps?”

Sam is stunned for the third time that day. No one has ever belittled him (whilst gratuitously attacking his size) insofar without any apparent reason. It seems as though his very existence upsets you and the arbitrariness of your contempt has caused an anger to stir beneath him, but beyond that lies bewilderment and irritation. How had he managed to accomplish two such massive mistakes in front of you in the span of so short a time? Perturbed and bitter, Sam silently sets to work on the bodies.

Meanwhile, you’ve come to a surprising realization as Dean begins to cut the fabric of your flannel away from your damaged arm, the name ‘Sam’ and the words ‘my brother’ resounding in your head, “Wait a second- there’s no way… you’re not… the Winchesters, are you? Sam and… Dean?”

“The one and only, sweetheart.” He sends you a dazzling smile that is as perfect as you’d expect, but within his eyes is an underlying poignancy that you recognize as clear as day: an indication of a traumatic past and a lifetime spent plastering on tough veneers. You notice as well how gentle his touch is and how his stitches are practiced and prudent. Perhaps you had judged him too hastily.

Through an incredulous chuckle, you retort, “Well I can’t say I didn’t expect more from you, but at least this’ll get me a free round of drinks at the hunters’ pub tonight.”

Dean laughs with you before sobering at the thought of how his baby brother must be feeling, “Hey listen, take it easy on Sammy, alright? I don’t know what’s gotten into him today but he’s not usually like this. He’s actually the smart one, believe it or not.”

Scoffing, you can’t help but smile back at Dean and soon find an easy rhythm with the older Winchester, despite your awkward introduction.

From several yards away, however, Sam looks wistfully back to see you smiling lightheartedly at something Dean’s said, the two of you huddled in close proximity as his brother’s hands drift across your bare skin. Something akin to envy bubbles within his chest although he’s aware it makes no sense, so with a frown, Sam does his best to shake it off and get back to work.

But it’s not easy to forget you. And just as Sam is beginning to think he’s rid that awful day from his memory, you pop back into his life three months down the line.

“Well, if it isn’t the overgrown hunter extraordinaire Sammy Winchester.” The sarcasm that oozes from your otherwise beguiling voice has him gritting his teeth in no time.

“It’s Sam.”

“So you here to mess up my hunt again, Sam?”

Although he wishes he could have been the bigger man instead of surrendering to the resentment you roused within him, after a couple repeated hatchet burying attempts fall through, Sam just can’t resist the little game you’ve started.

Over the next few months, you and Dean form a fortuitously close bond and the older Winchester develops a habit of calling you up when faced with a troublesome hunt, and vice versa. Despite Sam’s fabricated displeasure, a show he puts on mostly for Dean (since any other emotion would seem illogical given the way you treat him), Sam is peculiarly and begrudgingly excited to see you every time. But the match never ends. In fact, Sam lets it intensify each time you work together, always astounded by how you manage to get him so worked up.

“I’m telling you, it’s a rugaru!”

“Right, because the last time we listened to you, things worked out so well,” you remark sardonically.

“The lore says-“

“Ooh, quoting the lore again now are we, Mr. Know It All?”

At this point, Sam is about as huffy and puffy as the big bad wolf and if he were a cartoon character, there’d surely be steam erupting from his ears. “Look, Y/N, this isn’t about who knows more or who’s right; this is about saving those people’s lives!”

“You think I don’t know that? Was I not the one who saved your life the first time we met?”

“OK, alright, just shut up you two!” Dean finally shouts above you, “Would it kill you to just get along for two seconds?”

“No,” Sam admits.

“Probably,” you say at the same time, causing Sam to shoot you his overly perfected bitch face.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“What the fuck?!” Dean’s booming voice echoes throughout the bunker and moments later you and Sam come flying into the kitchen to answer his call, guns at the ready.

“What? What is it?” you ask while Sam scans the room.

A whimper is the only the way to describe the sound of Dean’s reply, as he points toward an unseen object on the floor. Edging toward him, you lower your gun in the direction of his finger until you discover the source of Dean’s distress.

With a sigh, you look toward Sam who is also exhaling in relief at the sight of the entity in question. The two of you share a moment of wordless conversation before simultaneously dropping your guns with a conclusive nod.

“Why does this feel like déjà vu?” Dean’s tone is still timid and appalled, and you nearly laugh at the idea of a grown-ass man looking so aghast because of a used condom.

“Because it kinda is…” you supply unhelpfully, earning yourself a small glare from the man beside you.

“Dean,” Sam begins with a deep breath, “There’s something we have to tell you… Y/N and I are together.”

The snort that escapes Dean is full-bodied and borderline psychotic, “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa!”

You wait till his snickering subsides, “No, it- it’s true.” Your voice is hesitant yet hopeful, “We’re not joking. We’ve kinda become… a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, well you know, I don’t wanna have to put a label on it or-“

“Y/N’s my girlfriend,” Sam declares with conviction as he reaches out to curl his long fingers around your waist and lasso you towards him.

“-Buuuut, that is the one I’d use if anyone asks,” you quickly affirm with a stiff pat to your boyfriend’s abdomen, wincing at the unversed attempt of PDA and missing the dimpled grin that crosses Sam’s amused features.

“Well, I don’t buy it. I don’t believe either of you.” Dean’s sturgeon face comes on strong as he shakes his head and points a challenging finger at you, “Kiss him, right now,” he dares with perked brows.

The eye roll you respond with is so dramatic your entire head moves with it. But then, without a moment of pause, you turn your body into Sam’s, reach up to grab the back of his neck and pull him down for a searing kiss. Now this is something you’re well-versed in. The reunion of your lips starts off relatively slow, but it doesn’t take long to escalate into something more fiery that involves tongue, the eager push and pull movements of your bodies, and Sam’s enormous hands cradling your head.

After a moment of shock, Dean objects, “Alright, alright, I get it! That’s enough of that!”

Unwilling to recede just yet, you linger in the kiss for a little longer, delaying your separation by nibbling down on Sam’s lower lip and tugging gently, only releasing it as you pull away torturously slow. When the two of you finally open your languid eyes, it’s to stare into each other’s dilated pupils and ponder the moment for an indiscernible minute.

“What th- I said, I get it! Now could please stop ogling each other before my lunch comes back out the wrong way?!”

But the way Sam’s smiling at you is addictive and you can’t bring yourself to look away until he forces a break by leaning in to plant a tender kiss upon your forehead before tucking you into his side as he faces his brother again.

Dean’s face is covered by his hand, “I’m gonna need a minute. I just-“ His features leap through a range of expressions as he tries to find the right words, “When the hell did this start anyway? I thought you two couldn’t stand each other?”

“Yeahhh, that was mostly an act. Although we bought it at first too,” you explain with a shrug.

“We weren’t pretending the whole time. It just kind of happened and we didn’t really know how else to act around each other by then,” Sam adds.

“Right, basically it turns out there’s a fine line between love and hate... and that line is hardcore yearning.” Your words bring a chuckle to Sam’s lips but his brother still looks out of sorts.

Shaking his head with closed eyes, Dean sighs, “Alright, can someone just explain to me exactly how this happened, because I’m still not computing here. But spare me the details and try to keep it PG-13,” he emphasizes with adamant hand gestures.

“How do you know it’s not PG-13?” you inquire with a held-back laugh.

“Ha. With the way you two were playing tonsil hockey just now, I can tell you’ve been around the bend way more than I wanna know. My little brother doesn’t kiss like that on the first date.”

It’s impossible to hold back a giggle at the memory of your ‘first date’ and the way Sam had kissed you, “OK well, that would be hard, considering the story involves a lot of sex... You wanna give it a go, big guy?” you pass the ball over to Sam with a quirked brow and lowered voice, to which he responds with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, a little warning glance that you’re well aware means ‘save it for the bedroom’ but you simply smirk up at him.  

‘Big guy’ used to be a term you called Sam in contempt, but when the feelings between you evolved and a sexual relationship developed, it became an innuendo, such that calling him ‘big guy’ in front of Dean or in public almost always results in glorious sex. In fact, sometimes you believe the nickname has held a slightly obscene connotation for you since the beginning.

Afterall, your carnal longing for him has been present from day one, although at the time you had believed it to be purely physical. Sure, you had dreams about having him in various positions in your bed, but you figured those were merely betrayals of your subconscious mind. That was until one day, a heated argument in a rare moment alone had ended up in a violent make out session, after which the two of you had just barely gotten the last of your clothes back on before Dean walked in. One look at your worked up and frenetic states alongside the disordered condition of your surroundings, and he immediately assumed you’d been fighting again (which wasn’t terribly far from the truth), chortling as he asked if you would have killed each other had he returned a bit later.

With a clearing of his throat, Sam begins to recount the tale, “Uh, well it started in that motel in South Carolina, while you were out getting food…”

“Look, all I’m saying is there is no way he’s using the hospital as a dump site! It’s just not feasible!”

With complete disregard for the peace and quiet of the other residents within this thin-walled motel, you and Sam once again find yourselves in a shouting match.

“Oh right, I forgot! You’re Sam Winchester! How could you POSSIBLY be wrong?! Mister ‘look at me, my IQ and LSAT score match my fucking height! Oh and I also happen to have the physique of an Adonis without even owning a gym membership!’” you roar bitterly, gesticulating with your hands to help better communicate your pent-up indignation.

“Right and you’re Y/N Y/L/N, so how could YOU possibly be wrong? Miss ‘look at me, I never went to college but I’m a genius AND I can kick ass! Oh and I also happen to look effortlessly stunning through it all!’” Sam suddenly seems bigger than ever as he towers over you, that panty-soaking deep voice emanating from his diaphragm and infusing itself throughout the entire room until all you can see, hear, and breathe is Sam.

The fury takes over and you don’t notice your feet taking you closer to him, “Oh yeah because you don’t make EVERYTHING you do look so unnecessarily hot and make me wanna rip your clothes off all the damn time!”

“Fuck! And you don’t always drive me crazy when we have these stupid arguments and your chest starts heaving and you look so insanely delectable I just wanna pick you up and fuck you against the closest surface!” By now, the distance between you is essentially nonexistent and your brain is no longer run by reason.

“So why don’t you then?” are your famous last words, prompting Sam to grab you wildly by the back of a thigh, lifting slightly and driving you to climb up him like a spider monkey fleeing from a grounded predator, while his other hand pushes your hair aside to gain better access to your face. Your mouths clash in a fierce battle and before you know it, Sam’s huge hands are cupping your ass as your legs wrap around his waist and you rut into him, hands flying from his shoulders to his hair. Those divine chestnut locks that you’ve always dreamed of running your fingers through. They’re somehow even softer than you imagined and the revelation, in conjunction with the way Sam’s tongue is becoming increasingly aggressive causes a fresh surge of libidinous energy to rocket through you. As a result, you give his silky strands an irresistible tug and drink in the moan he makes, the sinful sound reverberating straight down to your core as you clench around nothing.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam groans as he grudgingly forces himself to pull back as much as he can, “Are you sure? Is this what you want? Cause I can’t- Y/N I won’t be able to stop myself if we keep going.” His eyes squeeze shut as if the notion of stopping or the act of keeping his lips away from yours is causing him genuine pain, and the entire gesture moves you.

“Fuck, you really are the opposite of everything I thought you would be,” you make a quick mental note to apologize later for your initially presumptuous behavior although you can’t find it within yourself to feel any remorse right now, “Yes, please Sam, fuck me. I want you so bad… I think I have since we met and I saw those gorgeous hands of yours,” you confess, biting your lip lightly.

Sam breathes out a low incredulous laugh, “What, these?” he asks, removing one of the aforementioned hands away from your butt to bring it into your line of vision.

“Yes, fuck they’re so big and beautiful and strong and-“

“Alright, I don’t need to know about your weird hand fetish!” Dean hollers abruptly, rubbing his fingers across his eyes as if he could somehow erase the image of you and his brother together out of his retinas. “OK, but that was like… four months ago. You mean you’ve been sneaking around behind my back this whole time?”

“Well at first we didn’t want to tell you because we weren’t even sure what it was ourselves,” you divulge.

“Yeah, we didn’t want to try to explain something that we didn’t understand yet,” Sam supplements, hoping his brother will understand the motive behind your secrecy.

You nod along, “But then… it got a little harder to hide.”

The apprehension behind Dean’s emerald eyes is unmistakable as he reluctantly inquires, “That’s why this felt like déjà vu?”

It’s with a grimace that you reply, hesitantly, “Remember the time you found those panties in the backseat of the Impala?”

Dean’s eyes grow comically wide and Sam ducks his head in preparation of what’s to come.

“Yeah, there’s a story behind that…”

The click of her heels against the porcelain-tiled foyer irritates you as the three of you stride through her front door. You’re posing as detectives sent to question this overdressed young woman about her late husband, but the moment she lays her eyes on Sam, you reckon she’s forgotten her beloved’s damn name.

“Oh my… lord and savior. Well aren’t you a tall drink of water?” she beholds breathlessly with a seductive bite of her painted ruby lips.

You cough loudly and Dean sniggers, thinking you’re annoyed about Sam getting such commendation and attention during a serious case.

“I know this might be the grief talking, but I would climb you like a tree,” she purrs, sauntering up to Sam with an exaggerated sway of her hips. With her half-lidded doe eyes adorned with dark, fluttery lashes and low, sultry voice, you have to admit she’s quite attractive.

Grinding your teeth as your nails dig into your palms, you glower at the woman unreservedly. She, however, takes no notice, running her hands along Sam’s forearms before gripping at his bicep to lead him toward her living room. “Please, come have a seat, detective. You can ask me whatever you want.” The wink she appends is somehow the final nail in the coffin.

It’s with zero hesitation that you feign the reception of a notification on your phone before declaring, “Oh would you look at that, the uh… Sheriff needs us back at the station, Sam. He says it’s urgent.” You try to keep your tone even, thankful that you all maintained your real first names for these aliases, “Dean, you’re good to conduct this interview on your own, right?” Without waiting for an answer, you trample over to snatch Sam’s other arm and ignoring the horny widow’s gaping mouth, proceed to haul him away.

Dean sends you a strange look but relents, “Uh, yeah I guess, OK.”

As soon as the door closes behind you, your hand shifts down to lace your fingers with Sam’s, marching him towards the Impala with a staunch and mighty purpose. Even Sam’s elongated legs stumble to keep up.

“So uh… when did you give the Sheriff your number?” There’s an edge in his voice that normally disappears when it’s just the two of you.

“Wha- I didn’t. Sam, I just made all that up,” you tell him as you reach the car and open its back door. Pushing Sam inside, you climb in swiftly after him, wasting no time as you straddle his thighs and begin to undress him, only pausing when he looks up at you in adorable, puppy-like confusion.

“Wait, what? Then what are we doing?”

That’s when it finally dawns on you, “Hold on a sec, were you… jealous?” You can’t help but smile, finding it amusing that he’s stewing in his own envy after what you just witnessed.

“No, I just- He was kinda all over you this morning.”

“You mean like the way Mrs. My-Husband-Just-Died-But-I-Wanna-Climb-You-Like-a-Tree was in there?”

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” Sam perks up, the hint of a smug grin ghosting across his lips.

“She was practically holding your hand!”

“That’s what bothered you the most?” He dips his head to catch your eyes and those variegated irises burn into you with an intense, questioning gaze, alight with mischievous curiosity.

“They’re my hands to hold,” you contend with a pout, subconsciously clenching your thighs around his as you seize one of his large hands with two of your much smaller ones, “Just like you’re my tree to climb.”

Sam’s head falls back in bright laughter, “I thought you said they were ‘oversized’ and ‘ungainly’?” he teases, quoting your previous slights.

“You know I only said that cause Dean was there.”

“I’m pretty sure you called them ‘fumbly’ and ‘lumbering’ the first time we met.”

Staring at his fingers as you play with them, you shiver at the memory of how they feel all over you. “That was cause I used to think all hunters with a Y chromosome were cocky, misogynistic assholes who needed to be knocked down a peg or two.”

“But I proved you wrong, right?”

“Fuck yes you did. So, so wrong. And now you’re mine, and I don’t like seeing other people touch what’s mine,” you growl before returning to your earlier task of removing his clothes, pouncing on him when your fingers finally land on bare skin. You kiss him fiercely, swallowing his surprised grunts with glee, and as his hands start travelling from your hips up to your back, holding you tight against him, your lips move down to his pulse point, sucking, licking, and nibbling, “Mine.”

“Fucking Jesus Christ on a cracker! You goddamn rabbits!” Dean squawks in protest as he begins to pace the floor, “Have you no decency?! And in my poor Baby! While I was busy doing all the work, saving lives!”

You roll your eyes at his melodramatics and can feel the tension in Sam’s abdominal muscles as he attempts to restrain his laughter. As if Dean had never taken a break during a case for a stress-relieving quickie before, or hadn’t been at least somewhat grateful to be left alone with a beautiful woman.

His next comment confirms your point, “Although, if I remember correctly that lady was a fox.” After a brief pondering pause and an introspectively appreciative smirk, Dean’s whining resumes, “But seriously! I can’t believe you two! Here I was feeling bad for forcing you to work and live together, hoping you’d eventually learn to get along when this whole time you were shacking up like animals and casually defiling my Baby just because what? Some girl touched Sam’s hand?!”

Feeling emboldened by the catharsis of this long-overdue airing of your dirty laundry, you decide to add to Dean’s exasperation, “Yeah and in the spirit of honesty, that might’ve happened more than once.” Sam tries to hold back his snort as he gives your hip a playful cautionary squeeze while Dean’s feet come to a full stop as he turns to give you a death glare. “Hey, it’s not my fault all the pretty girls like Samuel! And I’m pretty sure we wiped her down after.”

“I don’t even-“ Dean purses his lips and quirks his head with a dynamic expression of unbearable vexation, “You better be getting me pie every day of the week for what you did.“ He takes a deep breath before circling back, “Wait, OK so you’re telling me that a used condom ended up in our kitchen because- what? You two couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to find a bed? You know what, forget I asked. I don’t wanna know. Did you at least sanitize the place after?? No, of course you didn’t, you left a fucking condom on the floor… I think I’m gonna throw up.”

But you hardly hear Dean’s rambling because you and Sam are far too wrapped up in each other, smiling as you recall the events of that morning.

Your eyes slowly drift open to find the most exalting sight in all the world: Sam Winchester’s sleeping face, blissful and serene. Lifting a hand to gingerly cup his cheek, the corners of your mouth curl up when he leans into your touch. It’s moments like this that make you wish you could wake up next to him every morning.

Only after you’ve traced his every feature and planted a soft kiss where his dimple would be if he were awake and smiling, do you carefully peel yourself from his side, slipping out of his hold as you quietly climb out of bed. Sam rolls over a bit and you freeze with bated breath, watching as his big arm extends out in your direction as if trying to reach for you in his sleep, before stilling again.

Mornings like this are rare and you want him to soak up all the restful sleep he can. Once you’re sure you haven’t woken him, you scan the room for something to cover your naked figure, until your eyes land on the flannel he’d worn the night before. Picking it up, you bring it to your nose and inhale deeply to revel in the residual scent of Sam. Another glimpse at his peaceful, sleeping form has you smiling fondly. God, you are such a goner for that man. It’s becoming hard to reserve your soft looks toward him for private moments alone.

You can barely remember how it happened, but over time, you’d come to learn that Sam is nothing like you originally imagined him to be. He’s kind-hearted and open-minded, the type of soul that can find hope and beauty in even the darkest of places, a far cry from the shallow macho man silhouette you’d expected him to fill. In fact, Sam routinely defies the expectations others have enforced upon him, proving his worth time and time again as he’s persisted through some of what must be the toughest challenges to ever face a single human. Yet through it all, his spirit remains intact, never once yielding to cynicism or resentment or apathy or even the building of walls as you and Dean have resorted to. He is truly the bravest man you know and infinitely more competent than your first fluke of a hunt with him had mistakenly suggested, both in the field and in bed.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you wrap yourself in plaid and head out the door. Dean never questions your use of Sam’s shirts because ever since Sam firmly insisted on giving you his flannel after your second encounter with them resulted in Dean cutting your own top apart, you’ve grown into a habit of borrowing Sam’s clothes. You always claim they’re more comfortable than your own and Sam’s feigned annoyance over you ‘stealing’ his belongings tides Dean right over.

Half an hour passes before Sam approaches the bunker kitchen to find you with your back towards the entrance, busy prepping breakfast in nothing but his plaid. He pauses in the doorway to stare at you for a minute, licking his lips with an irrepressible smile. For some, this may seem like a stereotypical morning after, but for a couple of hunters, it feels like a dream come true.

After finally returning to the bunker last night following the completion of a series of successful hunts, you’ve got no solid obligations and very little on your to-do lists today, although Sam’s got more than a few ideas about how to pass the time, and a couple more come to mind when you stretch up on your toes to reach for something, causing the hem of his shirt to glide up until its corner reveals just slightest hint of your incredible ass. Sam can’t suppress his little grunt of approval, which catches your attention and makes you turn your head, peering back at him over your shoulder.

You smirk at the blessed view of him standing there in nothing but the pair of thin grey sweatpants you’d bought him a month ago when you discovered the viral online phenomenon, “Hey, big guy. You just gonna stand there and gawk or do you wanna make yourself useful and grab another plate from the top shelf?”

Chuckling at your false animosity, Sam stalks toward you, “Good morning to you too.” One of his vast hands falls upon your hip as he presses the maximum possible length of his body into your back side, while his other hand reaches up over your head to snatch the plate you’d asked for.

“Good morning indeed,” you concur with a silent gasp when you feel the generous bulge in his pants.

“Oh that’s not morning, baby girl,” Sam husks into your ear, “That’s all you.” His powerful arms slink around you and his lips find their way down the side of your neck, lingering in that tender spot just behind your ear whilst you tilt your head and close your eyes, contentedly surrendering yourself to the moment. “I ever tell you how good you look in my shirts?”

Wiggling your butt back to tease him a bit, you’re pleased with the hiss it elicits. “No, but you made it very clear how bad I look in Dean’s,” you counter playfully.

The man behind you scoffs, “I didn’t say you looked bad; you could never look bad. I just… don’t like seeing you wear his clothes.”

“Oh, I know,” you turn around in his arms, “I just don’t understand how Dean doesn’t know yet. I mean, I think you’ve been very obvious.”

“And you haven’t?”

“I’m not the one who leaves hickeys in very visible places all over your body!”

Sam’s eyes glaze over in lust, an idea clearly forming in his head as he glances down at you. “Dean’s a hot-blooded guy; he needs to know you’re off-limits,” he alleges before attacking your throat with his mouth.

“So why don’t we just tell him?”

Without pausing his efforts, Sam reminds you, “Because you said you thought it was kinda hot, all the sneaking around. Mmpf, and because you said you wanted to see how long it would take him to figure it out.”

You nod while running your fingers through his silken strands and leaning back to give him more purchase, “That’s true. But in my defence, we always have this conversation when we’re doing stuff like this and I can’t think straight when your hands and mouth are on me.”

“Kinda like how I can’t think straight when you’re wearing nothing but my shirt?” His kisses travel down from your neck to your collarbone and shoulder as he slides his loosely buttoned flannel off to one side, “Fuck, you’ve got me so hard.”

Without warning, Sam seizes your waist and hoists you into the air as if gravity were an absolute joke, before plopping you down on the edge of the steel counter, his thumbs digging lightly into your ribcage.

“Sam! This is where we eat!” you protest with a laugh.

“Exactly. Which is why I’m gonna devour you here.” He dives back into your neck, continuing his work on a little pink mark that’s already beginning to form.

“Oh fuck… Wait, what if Dean walks in?” It’s through a great struggle that you manage to push him back an inch.

“He’s got a date with the Impala. He’ll be in the garage all day, trust me.” Sam’s gaze sweeps over your body suggestively, “Now are you gonna let me taste what’s mine?”

With an equally lewd survey of his extensive frame, you reply, “As long as you let me impale myself on what’s mine later.”

His eyes darken and the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only person he’s ever wanted ignites a confidence within you, so in a rather swift motion, you grasp him by the shaft through his sweatpants – the delicious groan he emits at your touch is enough to turn your pussy into a slip and slide – and pull him back towards you until the clothed length of him is resting against your folds and your noses brush, while his hands settle naturally on your thighs.

Shivering, your breath stutters and for an instant you can do nothing but bask in the closeness of him. Sam seems to enjoy it too because he closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours with an elated sigh. For the second time today, you marvel at his beauty, whispering a string of gasping kisses along his lower eye socket and exquisite cheekbone, simply dying to breathe him in. All of him is so immaculate and sublime. Each time the two of you reconvene, you want to savor every fucking inch of him, but there are a lot of inches, so the task often overwhelms you. Still, you must try. Locking your ankles behind him, you use your legs to pull him even further into you and the friction makes you lose your mind.

“Fuck, baby girl, you keep that up I’ll be making a mess in my pants,” Sam grunts with his lips upon your cheek.

Your breathless laughter fills the air, thinking of the stain you've undoubtedly already left on his charming grey sweatpants. Nimble as he is, Sam takes advantage of your open mouth and plunges his tongue inside. After so much preamble, the kiss is heavy and full of need. When the pressure of his lips pushes your head back, your hands fly to his wrists for the sake of your balance.

From there, they journey upward across his vascular forearms to his bulging triceps, fondling his massive shoulders before sliding along his traps and up the gorgeous length of his perfect neck, until you finally reach the treasure trove of his impeccable locks. You tangle your fingers into the lush mane and yank, gently but zealously, making Sam growl into your mouth. His voice is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard and the sounds he makes always drive you insane.

Never breaking the kiss, Sam’s colossal moose paws roam up to your back as he slowly lays you down on the counter, his member somehow still notched at your entrance and the new angle rousing a quiet moan from you. When he ultimately pulls away, you pitch forward to chase after his lips, but Sam only grants you a devilish grin and a quick peck to the corner of your mouth before moving down to your jaw and neck. While one palm kneads at your breast through his shirt, the other begins pushing and pulling at fabric to uncover more of your skin for his wandering lips.

“Sam! Augh!” you cry out as your head falls back.

“I got you, baby. I’m all yours. Gonna make you feel so good.” As if to attest his words, he rolls his hips into yours and a needy whimper escapes you. With your fingers still twisted in his hair, Sam leaves no part of you untouched as his mouth travels down your body. But upon reaching your navel, he pauses, those vivid, color-changing eyes peeping up at you to check for any signs of discomfort or objection. Finding none, his thick tongue pokes out to lick a deliriously winding path from your belly button to your exposed clit. Then, pushing down tenderly on the insides of your knees to open you up to him, Sam directs you one last look that is both hungry and reverent, “I still can’t believe this is mine.”

Dean had stopped you halfway through your recollection, but it appears that was still too much for him, “What did I do to deserve this?! I feel like I need to go bathe in holy water for a week.”

You and Sam both open your mouths to respond but Dean cuts you off vehemently, “Ba-da-da-da!” His vocalized outcry is complete with animated gestures featuring an accusing index finger. “OK, before you two tell me another traumatizing story, that’s enough of the who, what, when, where, and how… I just need to know why. I mean, is this- are you- …?”

Sensing the protective wheels turning in his head, you decide to put Dean out his misery, “I’m not just with Sam because he’s an incredible lay if that’s what you’re wondering. We can skip the fatherly ‘what are your intentions’ talk. Yes, Dean, I am in love with your little brother… although ‘little’ is not exactly the word I’d use to describe him.”

“Sammy, could you please control your woman?”

“My woman?” Sam sounds mostly amused but you’re almost certain you can hear a hint of pride in his voice.

“Yeah, I admit I’m surprised I didn’t see it until now. You two are kinda oddly perfect for each other, you know, in a weird, kinky way.”

“To be honest, we’re pretty surprised too. I mean, he doesn’t look it but this guy is kind of territorial,” you quip whilst cocking a thumb in Sam’s direction.

“I don’t need to- Wait a minute, so all those bruises you told me were from hunts?” Dean’s eyebrows soar towards his hairline.

Chewing on your lip, you confirm his hypothesis with a miniscule nod.

“Yeah well that time you saw my back,” Sam chimes in vengefully, casting you a handsome grin full of mischief as he reveals, “that wasn’t a werewolf, that was Y/N.”

With eyes as round as dinner plates, Dean frantically shuts you both down, “OK, that’s it. Torture Dean time is over. I don’t wanna hear any more about your depraved sex lives! Look, I guess I’m happy for you guys, although mostly cause I don’t have to play referee anymore, but I’m gonna need you to follow some ground rules around here. Like rule number one! No sex in public places!” he starts counting with his fingers, “Always put a sock on it when you’re busy! And most importantly, no sex in Baby!”

Your laughter follows Dean as he wearily saunters out of the kitchen, an exhausted expression on his face. Turning to your newly outed boyfriend, you petition excitedly, “Does this mean we can have shower sex now?”

“Not while I’m around!” comes Dean’s snappy answer.

In contrast, Sam gives you the same look he did on that dreamy morning, “Oh trust me baby girl, I’m gonna get you wet somehow.”

“Still within hearing distance! I think I liked it better when you guys were at each other’s throats.”

As you’re giggling, Sam leans down to whisper in your ear, “For the record, I’m in love with you too.” And just like that, you’re tempted to re-enact your previous kitchen escapades.

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TEAM MOOSE: @paulaern​

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[yourturntosimp]

Hello! Can I have some hc for yandere Alice and yandere Ranmaru? :3

A/N: HI THIS TOOK SO LONG HOLY FUCK HGFGHJK-- since i've not posted in like. forever, the reqs are,,,,p long for @ least the first 2 reqs in my inbox hgfdfghj-- sidenote, but these aren't even all of my yandere ranmaru hcs, and i think that says smth-- TWs: paranoia, manipulation, isolation, obsession, gaslighting, murder mentions, kidnapping, blood mention

Alice

🥁 Alice is one of the more tame yanderes, all things considered 🥁 Like, he wouldn't be able to bring himself to threaten you, hurt you, or even intensely guilt-trip you

🥁 You feeling bad makes him feel bad, it makes him feel like he's not doing well as your bf :(

🥁 He wouldn't hesitate to intimidate and threaten other people who he thinks get too close to you, though

🥁 I mean, have you seen this man?

🥁 Tall and buff, it's easy for him to scare most people off--

🥁 It's even worse when he tries to beat someone up for trying to get your number and you're just like "babe no-- you're gonna get arrested pls--"

🥁 So....He obviously gets jealous very easily--

🥁 Like, to the point of becoming annoyed when you go spend time with friends or family without him

🥁 Like on one hand, family is super important to him! Go see them, build good relationships!

🥁 But on the other hand,,,,

🥁 He should go with you, right?

🥁 What if you run into any trouble on your way?

🥁 What if you run into trouble while you're there?

🥁 What if you get hurt?

🥁 What if, what if, what if,,,

🥁 You let him come with you to ease his paranoia-

🥁 And tbh? Your family probably loves him--

🥁 Bonus points if you have any younger family that you visit! Children love him, they think his hair is funny--

🥁 Your friends on the other hand...

🥁 He makes no attempts at getting along with them

🥁 "I can't believe you're friends with these....fools" 🥁 When you get upset at him for being so terrible about your friends, he apologizes 🥁 But that doesn't mean he's any less unhappy about your friends 🥁 You feel a bit bad when you see how he's upset, sometimes sad, sometimes frustrated when you announce that you're leaving to meet your friends 🥁 So you decide that it's alright to cancel your plans and stay with him, just this once 🥁 Until it happens again 🥁 and again 🥁 and again 🥁 You don't even notice the months passing by 🥁 You don't realize that all of your friends have left you behind until it's too late 🥁 But by then, he's already convinced himself that you don't need them 🥁 You don't need anyone else besides him and your family, since he's "generous" 🥁 And if he can't convince you too? well, that's alright 🥁 It's not like you have any other friends to hang out with, so the time you have to spend around him will be more than enough to change your opinion!

Ranmaru

🩹 Ranmaru is probably one of the most obsessive yanderes you’ll see on this blog-

🩹 like dude will straight up steal your hairbrushes, clothes, whatever

🩹 and you’ll have to go see him to get them-

🩹 so he wins-

🩹 you think he’s like a dog at first tbh

🩹 he follows you aroundddd

🩹 sides with you on everythinggggg

🩹 shows you unconditional love no matter whatttttttt

🩹 attacks anyone he doesn’t like when you’re not lookingggggg

🩹 yep, just like a dog-

🩹 Not above murder-

🩹 Or ruining reputations-

🩹 Or public humiliation-

🩹 Okay he’s not above anything tbh-

🩹 He even tells you about his atrocities-

🩹 Don’t think he’ll stop bc he’s scaring you either—

🩹 He probably thinks fear looks cute on you-

🩹 Don’t get mad at him, he’ll find that attractive-

🩹 If you get sad and mopey then he’ll feel a bit bad, if you’re lucky

🩹 That doesn’t mean he’ll stop though-

🩹 He’ll promise that he’ll cut back on his “habits”

🩹 you could tell that was a lie from the start-

🩹 And if you try to confront him about it?

🩹 Oh b o y-

🩹 He gaslights youuu :DDD

🩹 ”What’s wrong with you? You wanna get rid of me that much? You hate me so much that you’re just gonna ignore how I’m with you literally all the time and accuse me of murder?”

🩹 And it gets to you too-

🩹 Because….wasn’t he with you all that time?

🩹 He had to have been, right? Since you have no friends left to hang out with

🩹 So why couldn’t you remember if he had been with you or not?

🩹 Do you hate him that much?

🩹 Surely not, you wouldn’t still be around him if you had, right?

🩹 Eventually, you completely forget about what he did

🩹 Because it was just you imagining things, right?

🩹 Those "friends" that had all been reported as dead week after week weren’t yours

🩹 And those stains on Ranmaru’s clothes weren’t blood

🩹 And you totally haven't been locked in his basement for the past month-

[yoimix]

haikyuu!! as types of best friends.

➼ ft. hinata, sugawara, bokuto, osamu+atsumu.

➼ playlist. talk too much - coin, higher - banks, romanticism - mrs green apple, me and my friends - james vincent mcmorrow

➼ a/n. these have light bff2l undertones hhn i love that trope, pls forgive me. </3 + there’s some timeskip spoilers for atsumu & osamu’s part.

❀ hinata :-

i wish the childhood best friends trope a very good evening.

no one’s better than hinata at making friends, even if you met after he spiked a ball into your face. you’re childhood best friends too !! so imagine being a child and having to pick up this goofball by the scruff, who has the audacity to ask you to play with him after giving you a scratched up forehead and teary eyes from a ball to the face. but, like, you were the one who said yes so it’s on you :-)

sometimes you bicker but it’s ok bc he would literally go to the ends of the earth for you if you asked. no kidding. he hates sitting still anyway so he’ll just gravitate towards where you are like you’re the sun. also gets you taiyaki in the evenings but climbs in through your window instead of using the front door like a normal person. (he has too much energy </3) if you hear someone yelling your name outside your window and ranting about volleyball games, you know who it is.

ok when he makes you mad with his bullheadedness, you'll be complaining with kageyama (who agrees vehemently) and hinata gets pissy bc you get along a little too well when you're throwing insults about him. (he's not jealous, no, of course not.) but.. how long can you stay mad at this sunshine child anyway?? you'll be pretending you never got mad at all within a few hours and go back to joking around.

he gets distracted if you're watching a match sometimes (bokuto somehow got it into his head that he needs to show off in front of you) so you got banned from watching. he overcomes it later on so you can cheer him on in his jersey too <3

gives you ALL his attention when you talk or even complain about your life. he reacts a lot to whatever you have to say so you have to pretend there aren’t people behind you glaring at hinata for having the same decibel sound level as a jet engine.

you have matching keychains you bought at a local fair !!! (you got a pochacco one for hinata but it’s super worn out by now so he keeps it in his wallet instead.) 

he has not won a single multiplayer video game against you (*cough cough* mario kart *cough*) and you don’t even have to be good at it. if you call him a loser, he’ll lose even harder. gets unnecessarily mad at just dance and you have to calm him down.

... you’ve probably kissed bc the two of you (mostly him) were too eager for a first kiss and you got fed up with his pubescent ramblings and ended up kissing him. and then had an early mid-life crisis bc you guys are definitely just friends. (unless.. unless he doesn’t think that way.. surprise surprise 😳) also he's.. kind of bad for make out practice... it’s like kissing a month old puppy.. sorry :/. if you happen to make a lot of offhand comments and tease him about his kissing skills, he WILL turn tomato red and argue in gibberish. only do that in private bc the rest of the world thinks you’re sickeningly cute together >:(

overall, your best friend is a ball of sunshine (who occasionally pisses you off) and your #1 motivation to get out of bed. it's mostly bc he's somehow there to get you out of bed though you've repeatedly told him to not climb in through your window. at least the sun is smiling upon you every day <3

❀ sugawara :-

being best friends with him is such a secure relation !! 

he’s your soft place to fall but also would provide gentle (not so gentle) reminders for your wellbeing (STUDY!!! WATER!!!! BREAKFAST!!). doesn’t get mad when you say you skipped breakfast but gives you this look of disappointment which is 100x more effective. still gets a granola bar for you though. also he literally carries bandaids for u and he’s been doing that since second grade bc you fell off the swing ONCE. you know, just in case. if you’re an accident-prone hazard to society, you’re in luck. 

BEST HUGS especially if you had a rough day and want to sob into his shoulder. if u damage his $85 hoodie tho, he will make u do his laundry and also buy snacks for him. but like he is so soft (his skin is SUPER soft bc he actually follows a skincare routine now) and cuddly like a teddy bear, it's a small price to pay for salvation.

he will hype you up for anything you do !!!! new outfit? offers to be your personal photographer. scored an A+? will treat u to your fav ice-cream. new job? will tell everyone just how proud he is. 

ALWAYS shares the last bite with you and smiles to himself when you eat it so contented. also!!! hanging out at cafes and taking cute pictures is a must <3 even though you’re not dating, you’ll have photos together that make you look a real couple which ensue teasing from daichi and asahi and admiration/jealousy from noya and tanaka. also he gets weirdly protective of you around the team (i’m looking at the moron quartet) and you have to pull the “koushi you’re not my mom” card. it really strikes a chord with him when you say that out loud.

will egg your ex's house with you if you say the word. somehow gets more pissed than you at your ex (if they're a shitty one). it's kind of scary when he's mad too so.... good luck calming him down. he's also really good at sarcastic trash talk so if you happen to meet your ex on the street... send prayers for their self-esteem.

you don't really fight often but if you happen to disagree, he'll go about it in a pretty mature way and talk it out. if you pick a fight on purpose, he'll catch on to it and either tickle you (excessively) or flick your forehead as punishment for trying to rile him up. it’s impossible to prank him!!!!! it’s like he’s got a sixth sense or something so you might as well give up on anything of the sort. 

you said you want to get a dog (or cat) with him in the near future and he somehow equated that to having children. turned bright red and started saying it’s too soon to be thinking of that while you had daichi stop you from smacking some sense into your overly imaginative best friend. (i mean, you do need to live together if you want to raise a pet sooo)

his lockscreen is a picture of the two of you so a lot of people who try to hit on him take the hint quick. he says it’s unintentional but you know he can be terribly scheming at times. if you say something like “why don’t you date me for real, coward” he will malfunction and not be able to look you in the eye. (“don’t joke around, y/n” “what if i’m not” “it kind of feels illegal to date you” “what do you mean?!💢”)

anyway you are one lucky mf if you have sugawara koushi as your best friend even if there are both ups and downs (mostly ups). having someone care for you so blatantly certainly makes the question of romance arise but you’re content with the most loving best friend ever.

❀ bokuto :-

you guys are the “two best friends in a room, we might kiss” “yes we will” “what” type of best friends PLS

it doesn’t matter what stage of life you met him, it’ll feel like you’ve been best friends since the beginning of time.

it’s just so easy to make friends with this airhead and by god’s gift, you cannot physically get annoyed at this man. sometimes his friends will complain about him being forgetful or blunt but you’re just there like. yeah. that’s bokuto. love him for it. (you seem to have a lot of patience.)

he probably gets into trouble with authority unwittingly, so save your weekends to sweet talk his way out after accidentally implying the coach has a weak mindset. afterwards, you go get ice cream or something and hang out at the dog park to forget it happened. (the amount of second hand embarrassment bokuto has given you though... you need some hard drugs to forget all of it.) 

you probably make a lot of friends through him in high school/college but at the end of the day, it’s just you and him and sometimes akaashi making sure you guys are alive. if you guys are alone together on a friday night, you’ll still be having fun!! very often, it takes shape as karaoke :-) bokuto thinks he’s really great at rapping for some reason (he’s not) so cue you screaming the lyrics in an attempt to ruin your part of the song equally. also he always sets the key wrong??? although you sing the same songs each time?? sometimes he picks a song neither of you have ever heard and the both of you try to guess the melody. he’s terrible at it but at least he’s funny. there’s not a single song he hasn’t had a voice crack in.

if you go clubbing/partying with him, get prepared to be introduced as the friend of “the guy who did four keg stands in a row before proceeding to do a cartwheel unprompted and somehow not throw up”. is on first name basis with the bartenders/hosts and gets you free drinks. also gets hit on often but is oblivious unless they’re being very straightforward. if he’s not into them... you have to pull the s/o card and save his ass. oh also he barks at anyone that gets near your drink.

will always exaggerate when introducing you to new people. “y/n and i met when i saved them from drowning a terrible death.” “it was the children’s pool and you were the one that was screaming.” “and then y/n didn’t really thank me but it’s not like heroes need thanks to do the right thing.” “kou, i will push you into a pool right now, let’s see how well you swim.” (he learned swimming to impress you so joke’s on you.)

he likes to watch you do stuff at the end of the day, so if you see him go o_o at you doing homework, you can just put your earphones on and focus on your work. even if he’s making.. a strangely.. adorable expression. also LOVES to listen to you talk about your day when he’s tired, he says it helps him sleep better (so expect a lot of nighttime calls). moreover, if you say you had a bad dream, he’ll comfort you with his ridiculously confident tone of voice (unless the dream was about something bad happening to him, then he’ll freak out and you’ll have to comfort him instead </3)

ok one thing that’s annoying about him is that he probably leaves food crumbs over your stuff like laptop, bed sheet, etc. you clean it up but bokuto.. is a bit... distracted to notice the mess he’s making. it’s usually pretty difficult to get him to be more aware, but like your glare is enough to make him at least try to be careful from the next time. (either that or he’s become sensitive to your change in mood/emotions bc you know... you’re best friends after all.)

i’m not gonna lie, he probably catches feelings for you at some point. he wants to, like, keep it lowkey bc akaashi told him to take your feelings into consideration too but?? it’s so hard?? you’re literally so pretty?? everything you say is like music to him??? he reacts reflexively to all the firecracker feelings u give him. he probably says he likes you all the time but you dismiss it with “as a friend right :-)”. there’s no climbing up from that one, sorry bokuto.

to summarize, if a moody golden retriever was your human best friend.exe

❀ miya twins :-

they feel like a set. it would be strange to have one of the twins as a bff and not have the other one around whoops 🤷‍♀️ 

either you and osamu bully atsumu in your free time, or you and atsumu annoy osamu for fun (or both) <3. it’s always a good idea to team up with osamu and prank atsumu for fun btw. (put wasabi in his breakfast pancakes and you’ll get a very pissed off but weirdly cute tsumtsum. you can blame it on osamu if you don’t want to face his wrath.) your alternative is to embarrass osamu in front of strangers with atsumu, have fun with that. (second hand embarrassment also works.)

when you were younger, you pretended to not be able to distinguish the twins bc it would visibly rile atsumu up and then you’d go “ok you’re atsumu”... which would further rile him up. osamu got used to your shenanigans though it ticked him off the first time too LOL. call them the wrong name on purpose and they’ll start a riot; be careful when you’re playing with fire pls.

you guys played a lot of knight and prince/princess/royal when you were a kid and atsumu would always try to make osamu the evil dragon holding you captive. in the end, you were somehow the knight, osamu the prince to be rescued and atsumu the big, bad dragon. (it’s kind of funny in hindsight. your parents have photographs of the three of you fighting like no tomorrow.) also speaking of which, your parents are also friends and have bets on which twin you’ll marry (or if you will at all). it’s tearing your parents’ friendship apart.

these two have DEFINITELY fought over whose jersey number you’re going to wear to the games ( “oi, ‘samu, stop brainwashing my best friend into wearing your stupid double digit number” “you know i’m the best friend, ‘tsumu. they clearly like me better over yer ratty ass.” “what did ya say?!?!? if anything, you’re the one that looks like ratatouille.”) you wore kita's jersey number to games.

imagine sunday picnics with the boys !!! by that, i specifically mean osamu and his perfect bento boxes <3 sometimes the two of you will cook together before your outings while a sulking atsumu stands outside bc you didn’t let him. (let him in, you monsters.) he says he can cook too but the last time the twins’ bickering almost burnt the whole kitchen down. the picnics continue well into adulthood and you get to diss your boss to the twins who will always support your rants. (sometimes atsumu will tell you it’s your fault but you can smack him off. we only need supportive besties here 🙄)

if someone hurts u.... they’re going to need divine intervention to be safe... you have two well-built, physically adept best friends ready to beat the shit out of anyone who deliberately breaks ur heart. 

when the twins get into a physical fight...... oh boy. it kinda pisses you off that they’re spewing profanity at each other and you’re the one getting glares. but at the same time, you don’t really want to step into a fight that has nothing to do with you. people should solve their interpersonal issues on their own. they have never fought over you, this isn’t twilight <3 

but the question did come up once on which twin you like better; it’s not something to seriously fight over though. if you chose osamu, atsumu will complain for six days straight and you’ll start to regret ever answering the question. if you say atsumu, osamu won’t feed you his onigiri anymore for a few days which is just as bad. the safest choice is to say neither bc it will both be funny and you won’t suffer too many consequences. if you say you love the both of them for being your best friends all this time and go all mushy, there’s a slight chance they’ll go soft too. god help you from the bone crushing hug you’re about to receive 🙏

you make sure to not miss any of atsumu’s official games !! sometimes he’ll wave at you and make the reporters give you hell bc he’s a little shit. just push osamu to them and run away if it gets that bad. (he gets free advertising for his shop, he should be grateful.)

osamu is super good at cheering you up!!! whether it’s with food or with pleasant talk, you’ll be feeling much better with a full stomach and a calmer state of mind. as for atsumu, he’s really good at you cheering you up by distracting you. he’ll talk about his team or this new serve he learnt and the world will seem a lot brighter bc he seems so happy about it. whichever twin you go to, it’s win-win. 

in return, the twins take up a good chunk of your time. sometimes atsumu will crash at your place after a game though you’ve told him to not lead the damn reporters here. osamu makes you taste test his experimental onigiri... which are not always good..... no seriously, why’d he put honey and tuna in there ?? but still, your life is ridiculously colorful with them around.

anyway, what can i say except what’s better than one best friend?? two best friends !!!

[fantastic-bby]

Take Me Home

Pairing: Reader x Wooyoung

Word count: 1.6k

Genre: Angst | Exes to lovers

Summary: Wooyoung sits at a bar, getting drunk while all he wants is for you to take him back home

Warnings: Alcohol consumption | Swearing

A/n: So… I may have listened to Take Me Home about a bajillion times since the album was released and… this happened

P.s I’m reposting this bcs Tumblr’s being homophobic and the tags were scuffed FeelsWeirdMan

Masterlist

Wooyoung hasn’t felt this lonely since right after you left him. The darkness that shrouds his mind is something that has refused to leave him alone for almost the past two years, but it hadn’t been this bad in a while. It’s bad enough that he feels like he struggles to breath as he sits at the bar, a glass of whiskey in one hand and his phone in the other. Wooyoung’s thumb hovers over your contact, his mind battling with his heart as he painfully contemplates calling you.

He’s slightly drunk, it’s obvious that he’s at least tipsy, but he’s still sober enough to know how much he fucking misses you. Wooyoung clenches his jaw, teeth grinding together as he locks his phone and places it down onto the bar; the glass of whiskey making it to his lips as he downs it.

“Another one?” the pink haired bartender questions, an eyebrow raising. Wooyoung gives him a look before pulling a few bills out of his pocket and placing it onto the counter. “This would be your fifth glass of the night, man.”

“I don’t care,” Wooyoung sighs, “just pour me another.” The bartender purses his lips before obliging. Wooyoung isn’t dangerously intoxicated to the point where he would need to get involved, so he serves him.

“You wanna talk about it?” the man asks as he pours the alcohol into the empty glass.

Wooyoung contemplates it. Why would he be telling a complete stranger about why he feels like such a piece of shit? Then again, it’s not like he’s even spoken to anyone about it. He sighs before admitting, “I’m thinking I should call my ex.” The bartender gives him a look as he slides the glass back to him.

“It’s not exactly my business, but how dangerous would that be?”

“Well,” he sighs as he thinks about it, “I would either be getting blocked or slapped in the face.” Wooyoung lets out a bitter chuckle as he swirls the whiskey around in the glass. “I fucked up and now I’m alone. Every time I think about them, I feel like I’m suffocating while I spiral down this never ending hole.”

“Have you spoken to them since the break up?” The bartender asks as he starts wiping down a spot on the counter right beside Wooyoung that was previously occupied by someone else.

He shakes his head, “never mustered up the courage to do so.” He brings the glass to his lips and takes a sip, embracing the burn in his throat because he feels like he deserves it. “I was an asshole. I know I fucked up, but I just want to talk to them at least once more. Just to tell them I’m sorry.” Wooyoung feels like he might have a full on breakdown right in front of the bartender, who he assumes is San because that’s what it says on his name tag. He feels his chest tightening like it usually does whenever he thinks of you. “I just want to take back every shitty thing I did to them. They didn’t deserve any of it.”

“Have they ever tried reaching out?” San further questions, his hand halting for a moment.

“The last time I spoke to them, they looked so… cold towards me. The last time I had actually seen them, it looked like they just wanted to get away from me.” The memory is fresh in Wooyoung’s mind. You had stood in the apartment you shared, hands clenched into fists as you glared at him and your entire body trembling with rage. He felt like your eyes were the reason he felt so frozen, but he couldn’t cry in front of you no matter how hard the tears were trying to force their way out. Wooyoung realised a little too late that he was hurting you. There was nothing else he could do and staying with you would just destroy you. “I…” Wooyoung trails off when he feels his eyes starting to sting with tears, “I think it’s better that I stay away from them.”

“How long has it been?”

“At this point,” he pauses to look at the date on his phone, “almost two years. It’s almost been two years and all I can do is think about them. No matter how many people I sleep with or how many people I try dating, all I can think about is (Y/n).” Wooyoung looks at his phone, still battling the thought of calling you. San watches as Wooyoung slowly starts to space out, only able to wonder just how much regret clouds his mind and heart.

“I think,” San speaks up for a moment, his voice snapping Wooyoung out of his thoughts, “the best thing you should do is stop drinking before you end up doing something you may regret, head on home and get some rest.” The younger man snorts at that.

“I don’t know how I could feel more regret than I already do,” he says as he finishes his glass and slides it towards San. “But I do think I should probably head home. Thanks for the talk.”

“No problem, man. Next time you come here around this time, just ask for San. I’ll serve you.” He gives Wooyoung a smile as he takes the used glass off of the counter. “Have a good night…”

“Wooyoung.”

San nods, “have a good night, Wooyoung.”

“You too, San.” He gives the bartender a half smile as he slides off of the barstool, turning around and freezing in his tracks. Wooyoung’s eyes widen when they meet yours and you’re staring at him with the same amount of disbelief. “(Y-Y/n). What are you doing here?”

“I…” you trail off as your mind registers the fact that Wooyoung’s standing right in front of you, “I just wanted to get a drink.”

“Long day?” Wooyoung questions, his voice cracking and making it more awkward than it already is.

You make a mental note of his voice crack and nod. “I got off work a while ago and I—uhh—didn’t feel like going home just yet.” Home. Home is you, Wooyoung thinks but he shoves the thought down with the rest of his feelings. You’re right in front of him. Where’s the apology that’s replayed in his head over and over again for the past year?

“(Y/n), can—could we talk for a bit?” he musters out. “I-It’s been a while. Maybe we could catch up?” Wooyoung wants you to accept his offer so badly. Even if he gets just a few moments, just a few minutes, it’ll be enough.

“I don’t know, Woo…” you trail off when the memory of your last meeting flashes across your mind.

“Please?” If his words aren’t enough, it’s his eyes that do it for you. They look so empty, so desperate,

So lonely.

“Okay.” You take a deep breath as you nod, fearing whatever would come next.

“I want,” Wooyoung gulps. Why is this so difficult?! “I want to say that I’m sorry.” His words come out slowly, but after they’re out, he gains more courage. “I want to say that I’m sorry. For everything. I treated you like shit and I know you deserve so much more, but I just wanted to apologise.” You stay quiet, letting his words linger in your mind. Your relationship with Wooyoung was toxic and you would admit that in a heartbeat. But that way he looks at you now, so lost, your heart can’t help but crack at the sight of him. You’ve spent the time away from him healing from the break up, but you wouldn’t deny that you still love him. Wooyoung was—is—everything to you.

“Wooyoung,” your heart aches even more at the way he looks so scared of your answer. “I forgive you.” He lets out a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding, shoulders relaxing slightly. “I don’t think I ever really got rid of you. No matter how many times I’d spring clean my apartment and throw away things that reminded me of you, I think I’m still too in love with you to throw you away.” Wooyoung doesn’t know how to feel. Should he be happy that you’re still in love with him or should he feel terrible that you’ve been hurting this entire time? “And I know that you struggle with things like this—especially talking about feelings—but I hope that we can move on from this feeling okay.”

“Move on?” he speaks before he thinks and immediately regrets it right after. You blink a few times before your lips part in realisation.

“Woo…”

“(Y/n), I love you.” Wooyoung feels every inch of himself starting to break as he takes a few steps closer to you, arms open, body trembling. “I love you so much,” his voice starts breaking when he hesitates to hug you. When you pull him into the hug, whatever wall he’s set up goes crumbling to the ground. “I love you so much. I’ve missed you so much—I’m so sorry. Please give me another chance,” Wooyoung’s words come out jumbled, mumbles of apologies and confessions just pouring out of his mouth like a broken faucet as you hold onto you. You cry when you feel his wet cheek burying against your shoulder. You’ve missed the feeling of him—you’ve missed Wooyoung.

“I’ve missed you too,” you confess as you allow yourself to mold against him. “I love you.”

“Please take me home,” he sobs. “P-Please, (Y/n).”

“I’ll drive you back—”

“No,” Wooyoung cuts you off and you feel his nose nuzzling against your neck. “I-I wanna try again, (Y/n). Give me another chance, please.“ You pull away to look into his glossed over eyes pooled with tears that stream down his face. “Please take me home—home to you. I-I’ll be better. I promise.” You take a deep breath as you thread your hand through his blond streaked hair before nodding.

“Okay.”

[houseof-harry]

Missed You Too | G.D.

Part 3 of Hate You Too!!

A/N - hello!!!!! part 3 of my hyt series!!! v proud of this part tbh, and dropping it at 2:30 am bc I can’t keep it to myself any longer. lots of love as always pretty pls lmk what you think!!! (read the last part here) (amazing gif by @vintagedolan​ as per usual nothing but the best by the best)

Word Count - 8.8k

Warnings - the nasty as per usual, mentions of not a great family life

“Why have you been trying more vegan stuff?” Kacey asks as you walk down the refrigerated aisle of the grocery store. You’d just put egg replacer in your cart after examining it for five minutes.

You shrug, looking at the various food options as you pass by them. “I don’t know, I’ve just been intrigued by it lately I guess.”

“Is the boy who gives you the glow vegan?” You roll your eyes, because this has been Kacey’s way of not so subtly poking around in your life to figure out who made you cry. She’s only seen one person make you cry: your dad. So the fact that a ‘random kid’ has seemed to do it for you, she’s pushing hard.

Because it wasn’t just that night that got to you, it’s been almost every day since. For almost a week straight, you’ve been moping around and going through the motions of life because the thought of Grayson truly hating you was making you really fucking sad. And that’s terrifying.

You had been pretty good about hiding it, you thought, until Kacey knocked asking why you were crying when you didn’t know she’d gotten home from Ethan’s one day. And now she needed to know what caused you your pain.

So you told her it was a random kid you’d been talking to. She didn’t believe you for a second (rightfully so, it was a terrible lie) and she wouldn’t leave it alone. You loved her and her passion, but sometimes you wish she’d let it go.

“I don’t know if he’s vegan or not. Everyone’s cutting out animal products more and more these days and I thought it’d be cool to try it myself. Is that such a problem?” You snap at her and she just huffs and pipes down for the time being.

You guys make it to the produce section after venturing through the various aisles in complete silence. You’re inspecting peppers when she speaks up again.

“You can’t hide him from me forever, you know.”

“You really think I can’t?”

“Y/N, come on.” She nudges you, making you meet her eyes and you see the genuine concern in them.

You let out a breath, picking your peppers and putting them in the cart. “I don’t even know what’s going on in my head with all the shit that’s happened, how am I supposed to tell you?”

She frowns wrapping her arm around you in a bit of an awkward side hug, the cart sandwiching you against the various vegetables.

“Maybe talking it out with me will help? When did it start? When did you meet him?”

You purse your lips, not sure how much you’re willing to reveal to her. Because if we’re being honest, Ethan is going to hear about this. And if they put two and two together, Grayson will soon know you’re having all these feelings over him and that’s the last thing you could want.

“I’m not supposed to like him, that was never what we were to each other. I don’t like him, I don’t think. Or I didn’t. But when I pissed him off and he left? I don’t know why, but it just-” You shrug, sighing and grabbing the cart to keep walking around as your emotions quickly bubbled to the surface after being hidden deep within you for so long.

“Isn’t that what they always say, though? Love comes when you’re not looking for it.”

“Oh jesus Kacey,” you laugh, pausing to grab some onions. “I’m not in love.”

“Hey,” she holds her hands up in defense as she watches you bag the onions. “All I’m saying is I’ve never seen you so into someone before. Even when you talk about your exes you have less emotion than with this guy.”

You toss the onions in the cart before continuing to push it along. “But I shouldn’t be into him. I wasn’t into him. I can’t tell if I’m blocking my feelings down and that’s why I’m confused or-”

“That’s definitely the problem,” she laughs as she picks out the fruits she wants for the week.

You huff in annoyance because you know she’s right, but you don’t want to let that be true. “Maybe I just really like his dick.”

The old lady next you scowls before shaking her head and walking away. You and Kacey giggle with each other as your cheeks blush a bit.

“I don’t think any dick is that powerful. Not when vibrators exist - fuck no. You’ve got the feelings glow.”

“Stop, Kacey,” you groan, halting your movements to look at her. She raises her brow at you and crosses her arms. “I don’t have the feelings glow. You get that shit for someone you’re gonna love. I could never love this guy, I-” you shake your head and blink a few times to quell any frustrated tears that have popped up. “I can’t love him. He was a good fuck. Is a good fuck. In fact-”

Before Kacey can react, you’re phone from your sweatshirt and typing away.

“Y/N what are you doing?”

“Proving that’s all he is.” You lock your phone with a satisfied grin.

“What the fuck did you just do?”

“Set up a dick appointment. A no strings attached, feelings-less dick appointment.”

“With the guy?” At this point you’re speedwalking the cart to the check out with Kacey trailing behind while she tries to process your rather reckless actions.

“With the guy,” you confirm.

“You’re gonna regret this,” she warns.

You sigh, locking your phone again after seeing his response.

“Maybe.”

***

“You’re in a shlump dude.”

Grayson was cuddled deep into their couch, blankets all around him and an almost completely empty pint of vegan ice cream he had picked up the night before.

Ethan had just come in from a midafternoon run, his sweaty and bare chest heaving as he stood in front of his brother with his hands on his hips. They were polar opposites right now, and Grayson hadn’t even realized. Not until Ethan’s comment makes him look down at himself and back up.

He merely sighs, leaning forward to put the ice cream on the coffee table while Ethan watches.

“Is it the new soulmate of the month?”

Grayson looks down at his phone, no new notifications on his blank lock screen. He doesn’t realize that he’s zoned out until Ethan’s snapping in his face with a questioning look.

Grayson shakes his head, groaning and rubbing his hand over his face.

“Bro, I don’t know.” Ethan sits next to him, leaning back as he drinks some water. “She’s not-” he huffs, doing his best to collect his thoughts because he truly has no idea how to explain you or his situation to Ethan without revealing that it’s you. Because as much as he loved his brother, he knew Kacey knew about everything in Ethan’s life. And Ethan’s life is Grayson’s life, and vise versa. So it would only be a matter of time before Kacey knew and then you’d know and he had no idea how you’d react to him having any type of positive feelings towards you.

“Who is she?”

“You don’t know her,” Grayson is quick to respond, almost too quick, but luckily Ethan doesn’t push it.

“What’s so special about her that she has you eating ice cream on a Friday?”

Grayson looks at the sweet dessert resting on the table with a disgusted look, only realizing now that he feels bloated and definitely indulged a bit too much.

“I don’t know, dude. She’s not like anyone I’ve ever talked to or dated which is why I’m fucking confused. I shouldn’t like her.”

Ethan laughs, shaking his head. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he picks up the ice cream and takes a spoonful into his mouth himself. “There’s a reason why you’re not with anyone you’ve talked to or dated in the past. And there’s a reason why someone so different from those girls is making you feel a lot more. Grow the fuck up and actually ask her out so you can stop being so damn mopey.”

Grayson looks at his brother, processing his words slowly as Ethan continues to finish off the ice cream. He knows Ethan is right. But you’re not into that, and definitely not into him like that.

“She would never date me,” Grayson huffs as he leans further back into the couch.

“You won’t know until you ask.”

Grayson can feel the nerves bubbling in his stomach at the idea of asking you to be anything more than friends. Were you even friends? Just someone you fucked occasionally but wouldn’t even let him kiss you slowly?

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by his phone vibrating, and he’s surprised to see your name attached to a new text.

sorry about last time. are you free tonight?

He reads the text over and over, trying to take it all in.

He’s never heard you apologize to him. Literally never. Not that you’ve done anything terrible, but you guys just didn’t do that unless there was underlying sarcasm beneath the words.

And the fact you wanted to see him again? Try again? Maybe Ethan was right. Or, you were horny as shit. But he’d take what he could get.

“Is it her?”

Grayson snaps his head up at Ethan, his cheeks a bit more flushes than before due to the fact he was now thinking about what you wanted to do tonight.

He nods, looking back down at his phone. “Yeah, she wants to hang out tonight.”

“Kacey’s coming over for the night and we already call the pool, so I don’t know what-”

“I’ll go to hers.”

“Okay.” Ethan stands with the empty ice cream pint in his hand. “Don’t forget to ask her out, though. Even if it’s a double date with me and K, to make it more comfortable for you guys.”

Grayson chuckles to himself because, realistically, you guys going on a double date together would probably be a lot of fun. If you and Grayson didn’t fight.

“I’d rather just be a fuck to her than nothing.”

Ethan sighs, shaking his head. “Whatever, dude. That isn’t good for you, but I know you’re not gonna listen to me.” And with that, he’s walking to the kitchen.

Grayson closes his eyes for a moment, taking a few deep breaths because Ethan was right again, but you’re just so...addicting. As much as he thinks you’d be amazing together if you were both willing to put your bruised egos aside, he can’t get the taste of your lips, your skin, your pussy out of his mind. Or the way you looked totally fucked out for him the first time you let him touch you. Or how breathless you were in the pool. He felt like he needed that, and if it meant some hurt feelings on his end, he’d take any fix he could get.

yeah, i’ll come by after Kacey gets here

***

Grayson was rather proud of the way he so easily slipped past Ethan and Kacey, grateful for his brother’s willingness to be vague so that he could get out without any questions. Because if there’s one person besides Ethan who will lecture Grayson, it would be Kacey. And she would definitely not approve of what was about to happen.

The drive felt longer this time. He had his hype playlist going, the one he listened to when he ran, trying to get some adrenaline pumping because confidence usually followed. And he really needed confidence right now.

You were going through the same routine as last time. Preparing your space for him, and more importantly preparing your mind. Trying not to psych yourself out while also trying to guess if he’d want it all gentle like last time, or if he’d be even more pissed because of what happened.

When you hear a knock at your front door you jump a bit, the moment of anticipation finally here. You wipe your sweaty palms on your shorts, walking to the door and taking a breath before swinging it open.

You both look at each other for a moment, and you can tell something has changed since the last time you saw him. He looked a bit paler, more tired, his hair not styled like normal. His posture was relaxed, his back slouched and hands in his pockets as he looked straight at you. Because sure, those were all little tells as to how the past week has treated him, but when you finally meet his gaze it feels like his eyes tell the whole story. You weren’t sure why or how, but you just knew he’d been through it the past week.

That made you feel a bit relieved, that you weren’t the only confused one. That is, if his rough week was in any relation to you. Or it could have been something with Ethan, or the company, or YouTube, or another girl. Maybe you weren’t the only one texting him about fucking around, and you weren’t the only one-

“Am I gonna get let in or did you invite me here to stand outside?”

You bite your lip, coming back to reality quickly and stepping aside so he can walk past you. You can smell his stupid signiture scent, the one you’d fake sneeze at just to tease him whenever he put on too much. The thought makes you smile, because it would always make him so annoyed. His face would scrunch, he’d toss his hands up like you’d just insulted his mother, and he’d throw at least a ten minute shit fit. It always worked without a doubt.

“Dude, are you good?” You’re pulled out of your trance to see him walking backwards towards your bedroom, an eyebrow raised as you still stand holding the door open. “Thought I was gonna get an apology or something, not just the fucking draft from the hallway.” The cockiness in his voice feels familiar, and almost makes you warm inside. But your inner competitiveness takes over first.

“Oh, you expected more than a ‘I’m sorry’? What makes you think you deserve that?” You chuckle, closing the door and locking it before walking to him.

He shrugs a cocky smirk on his face. “I usually accept apologies in acts of service. Never said I accepted yours yet.”

You put your hands on his stomach, pushing him through the doorway and closer to your bed. “Something tells me you will,” you whisper, your mouth right next to his ear as you lean in. You have a tight grip on his shirt where your hands were resting, his knees at the back of the bed.

He swallows thickly at your response, his own hands coming to grip your hips and bring you flush against him.

“Yeah? Gonna prove you’re really sorry, Y/N?”

You’re not sure if it’s the hushed tone or the fact he said your name that makes you freeze, your need to be in charge leaving you as you move your head to look up at him. He’d only ever said your name when he was pissed at you, when he was being sarcastic. Hearing it fall from his lips now, made a shiver run down your spine.

Grayson can clearly see how much he just affected you, and he plops down onto your bed victoriously as he watches you try to get your shit together. His arms are behind him so he can recline back to continue to watch you, his legs spread a bit and his dick clearly outlined in his sweats. You’re 90% sure he’s not wearing anything underneath, and the thought makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

He expects you to climb into his lap, so when you’re falling to your knees between his legs, his confidence wavers for a moment. “Oh shit,” he mumbles under his breath, and you’re sure he didn’t intend for you to hear it.

You lick your lips, sliding your hands slowly up his thighs as you watch him try and collect himself. He can’t decide if watching your hands or your face is better, his gaze constantly switching back and forth.

You, however, hold your eyes steady on his cock that is twitching underneath the confines of his sweats. You’re not sure how long you’re gonna be able to tease him, your mouth literally watering at the thought of finally tasting him, making him feel good that way. Letting him blow his load down your throat.

Your hands reach the hem of his sweats, and you bring one of your thumbs to rub over his cock. You hear him suck a breath in, your eyes finally lifting to meet his. He’s got his bottom lip between his teeth, his face barely lit up from the few candles in your room.  His nostrils are flaring with every breath he lets out, the anticipation clear in the way his eyes are now jumping around your own face as he waits for your next move.

You dig your fingers into the hem of his sweats, pulling them down as he lifts his hips to make it easier for you, Once they’re around his ankles, you let your eyes fall to his hard cock against his lower stomach. You take in every vein you can see, trailing all the way up to his red tip. You could tell it was borderline painful with the way his thighs clenched under your hands. When you noticed the precum beginning to drip from his tip you can’t resist anymore, leaning in to lick it all up.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

There it is again. Your name so gracefully falling from his lips. You feel a wave of nervous energy flow through you, but not before the words go straight to your pussy. You’ve suddenly made it your mission to make him say your name as many times as possible tonight.

You grab him at his base, swirling your tongue around his tip and making sure to pay extra attention to his slit, noting his little twitch every time your tongue runs over the most sensitive part of him. He brings one of his hands to the side of your head, gripping the ponytail you’d already had in your hair in preparation.

You look up at him as you continue to explore what makes him pull tight against your scalp, his cocky smirk back again as he takes in his new view.

“Loving the taste of my cock?”

You let go of him for a moment, and you feel him tug on your hair a bit harder in protest, but before he can say anything else you’re leaning down farther to drag your tongue from his base all the way back up, swirling your tongue around once like earlier before sitting back on your heels. You lick your lips slowly, never breaking eye contact.

“It’s alright.”

He rolls his eyes, putting a bit of pressure on the back of your head to try and bring you closer to him again.

You chuckle, leaning forward so that when you speak again he feels your hot breath on the sensitive skin. “Why? Love the way my mouth feels?”

“I wouldn’t know because you haven’t actually fucking put it-”

Before he can even finish his sentence your mouth is surrounding him, slowly sink down until he’s hitting the back of your throat. You stay there a moment, listening to his quicker breathing and watching his stomach clench as you hollow your cheeks and leisurely drag your head up, letting your tongue trace the vein that runs on the underside of his cock.

You lift your mouth from him, a small trail of saliva still connecting your lower lip to his tip.

“How about now?”

He looks down at you for a second, total silence ringing through your room. If you weren’t so turned on and confused about your feelings, you’d be more sure about the blatant admiration and attraction you see in his gaze right now.

He moves his hand from your head to your face, his thumb wiping your bottom lip to clean it before grabbing your cheeks and forcing you to continue looking at him. “You’re not good for me.”

Before you can even question what he means, he’s forcing you to stand up. He brings your face to his, and your hands fly around for a moment as you try to keep your balance with his quick and forceful motions before they finally land on his shoulders, his lips hot and heavy on yours. He didn’t seem to mind the fact he could taste himself on your tongue, too eager to feel your mouth on his.

The way he is able to get you to move at just the feeling of his hands on your body is almost embarrassing, but when his hands come to your hips to move you so that you’re now sitting next to where he was as he awkwardly shuffles to get between your legs you’re not even surprised with how smooth he made it all seem. It almost felt like you guys worked well together.

He doesn’t even bother to step out of his sweats, only throwing his shirt over his head when he feels your hands tugging on it. His hand pushes at your shoulder so that you’re laying back, legs still hanging over the edge of the bed. He makes quick work of your shorts and underwear, letting you kick them off as he brings a large hand to pull your tank top down just enough so that your tits are out. You’re sure you heard some of the seams rip, but at this point you couldn’t care less.

He reaches below your knees, pulling your legs up forcefully so that they’re bent, your heels now resting on the edge of the bed and your pussy spread wide for him.

“Condom, Gray.” You nudge him with your knee to pull him out of the slight daze he’d been in since he last spoke, and his eyes clear up after he blinks and comes back to reality for a moment.

“Oh - right. Where…” He trails off, looking around the room to see if you had any out and available for him.

You lean up on your elbow, pointing to your nightstand. “Back right of the drawer.”

He leans over, not moving from his spot between your legs. You watch him rummage through the drawer and think about how natural it feels to have him there, going through your shit.

He’s quick to pull out a condom, not even closing the drawer before tearing it open with his teeth and rolling it on himself.

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can he pushes your thighs back enough for your feet to rise off the bed, his hands sliding up the backs of your legs to slowly extend them upwards. By the time his touch reaches your midcalf, you can feel the ridges of his stomach on the back of your thighs, your calves resting on his pecs. One of his hands goes back down your legs to tightly grip your thigh, the other going to his cock to line his dick up with your entrance.

His eyes leave your center for a moment, going back to your face. “Good?”

You nod, biting your lip in anticipation. Right as you feel his tip against you, about to push in you remember what you were going to say before. “Wait!” He looks up in alarm, raising his eyebrow at you in question, slight concern on his face.

“Is my apology accepted?”

His face relaxes as he chuckles lightly, leaning down a bit to hover over your body. You feel his dick back at your entrance, and you finally feel the way he slowly begins to fill you. Your body relaxes at the immediate satisfaction, your walls taking every inch of his cock as he works his way to fill you up completely.

Only when you can feel his hips against you does he speak up again. “I guess so.”

You let yourself fall flat on your back, a smile on your face as he smirks at you. He grabs your other thigh with the hand that helped him, digging his fingers into the flesh there as if to brace you.

He pulls back out of you slowly, brushing your g-spot while doing so. You let out a soft hum at the feeling, anticipation for what he’s about to do crawling through your body and causing even more wetness to come out of you and around his cock.

He opens his mouth to say something when he pauses his hips, staying totally still for a second. You wait for him to speak, but nothing ever comes. As you’re about to ask him about it, he cuts you off with the quick movements of his hips as he starts to pick up a fast pace in and out of you.

He’s got his lip between his teeth in concentration, the veins in his neck and arms sticking out with the force he’s using to hold you against him while he pounds into you. You let your mouth fall open while you close your eyes, the feeling already so good you can’t speak. You grip the sheets tightly in your hands, doing what you can to stay close to him despite the force of his hips continuously pushing you away. You can feel your tits moving with his motions, and you’re sure if you were to open your eyes, that’s where his gaze would be locked. Even before you’d fucked that’s where you’d catch him looking if he thought you weren’t paying attention.

“Such a nice pussy, shit,” he moans.

A whimper comes from the back of your throat and you open your eyes when you feel his lips against your leg. At first his touch is soft there, light kisses despite the hard and fast movements of his hips. But soon he’s nipping at your skin, almost like he’s using you as a way to quiet himself.

That’s not what you want, though. You want him moaning, whimpering, saying your name. So you do the one thing you know will get to him.

You clench your walls tightly around him, and it instantly changes the game for both of you. As you continuously clench and release, you can feel him press tighter against your walls. The pressure on your g-spot causes pleasure to shoot from your core to your whole body, and you moan loudly as his hips stutter.

“Y/N - fuck - keep doing that,” he practically begs, leaning further over you and bending you in ways you didn’t even think possible. You’re sure you’ll feel it tomorrow, but you don’t even care. Especially not when your name sounds that good when he’s moaning it.

So you listen to him, and soon you can feel the sweat gather along your hairline as your orgasm slowly creeps through your body. It feels good having him on top of you, gripping you, so deep inside of you.

He’s panting above you, and you can see how far gone he is, too. So you decide to act before you think, forcing your fingers under his that are gripping your thighs, making him hold your hands. His eyes meet yours to make sure you knew what you were doing, but he never fought you. If anything, he started grinding his hips into your more, making sure to reach any spot that went untouched.

He lets go of one of your hands, causing you to pout for a moment. But your lips are quickly turning into an o as you feel his thumb rub your clit.

“Shit, Gray,” you whine, digging your nails into his palms.

He grunts, and you’re pretty sure his lip will be bleeding once he finally releases it.

Before you can get too concerned with it, however, you feel your orgasm quickly coming from the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“I’m gonna cum,” you warn him, and it comes out much breathier than you intended.

“I got you, let go baby,” he huffs out.

Baby. Suddenly you had a new favorite to hearing your name from his lips.

And that’s what pushes you over the edge, your back arching as you finally fall over the edge, pleasure taking over your entire body as you moan out over and over again how good you feel to him. You’re not even sure what you’re saying and if it makes sense but you don’t care. You feel too good to care.

You can feel him finishing in the condom once you feel a bit more connected to reality, his grip on your hand almost painful as he pushes his hips into you one final time before resting there and halting all his movements.

You try to regulate your breathing as he comes down from his own high, his eyes closed. You take the time to admire him, watching his bulging arms and defined chest continue to tense with the pleasure he’s trying to recover from.

Once he opens his eyes, he moves to stand up completely again. He lets go of your hand, and you can’t ignore the slight pang of sadness that shoots through you when you feel the coldness of the air against your palm.

He throws the condom out in the trash next to your bed before looking down at you. You stay in silence for a minute, both of you unsure what to do now.

“I should probably go, right?” He asks, and you’re not sure if it’s your post orgasm glow or the sadness you feel at the idea of him leaving that makes you think he’s almost asking just to make sure he can stay. But you’re sure that’s not what he means.

“Yeah, probably,” you mumble as he leans over to pull his pants up. Once he’s done that and begins to put his shirt back on, you sit up to watch him move around the room.

Only when he grabs his phone and keys does he look at you again.

“Nice fucking you,” he says, nodding his chin as a way of saying goodbye before leaving your room.

Exactly what you thought, just a nice fuck.

***

You were sure if you got hit by an 18 wheeler you’d probably feel and look better than you did right now.

Seeing your family was never easy, and on top of the exhaustion of avoiding Grayson like the plague? You were done.

It had been six weeks since you’d last seen him, heard his voice, said anything mean about him. Because you haven’t even had the opportunity.

After the last time you fucked, neither of you reached out. You continued to avoid seeing him, and him you, because what were you gonna say? Suddenly I don’t hate you, I definitely like you, I wanted you to stay, and I wanted to spend time with you? Absolutely not. Not when you were so sure he’d laugh in your face and make your life miserable every time you were forced to be in a room together.

So you went a full 6 weeks without Grayson Dolan.

The first two weeks were okay, because you’d done that many times. Two weeks without him was easy, manageable. But at the beginning of week 3 when you heard Ethan telling Kacey how Grayson refused to come around when he knew you’d be there? That’s when you felt yourself break.

You didn’t even try and hide it from Kacey this time, letting her hold you when you cried. Which was a lot, because apparently pushing your feelings to the pits of hell for this long made shit a lot harder when they finally resurfaced. The last three weeks were spent in self pity parties, ice cream, movies and wine. And tears. Lots of tears.

It was safe to say you were not doing too hot, and your family never helped. So you left your parents’ house early, and were looking forward to spending the night with Kacey chilling out and not having to worry about anyone else in your life. The long trip back to your cozy apartment didn’t help, either. It gave you too much time to overthink the things that constantly seemed to take over your mind, so by the time you were opening your door there were tears filling your eyes and you could feel your lower lip begin to quiver.

“Surprise Kace! My dad’s still a fucking piece of shit, so I came home a day early,” you meakly call through the apartment, taking your shoes off as you’re met with silence besides the TV.

“K? Can we get McDonalds? It’ll help me-”

Your bag falls out of your hand as four pairs of eyes meet your hunched over, weak figure when you turn around on the hunt for your roommate. Kacey was cuddled to Ethan on the couch, and Ryan and Grayson sat on the floor by the coffee table that had half empty chinese food containers spread across it.

“Oh.”

“Hun what happened? Are you okay?” Kacey stands as she talks to you, her eyes softening and you do everything you can to keep your gaze locked on her. You can feel Grayson’s eyes burning into your face, and it’s only making you want to cry more.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” you lie, your voice cracking as you do your best to put a small smile on your face. They can all clearly see through it, but you’re grateful none of them push it.

“You want some chinese?” Kacey offers once she finally meets you, putting her hands on your arms almost to steady you even though you weren’t swaying.

You look over her shoulder and to the food on the table and for a second your eyes meet Grayson’s. They looked sad, sad for you. And that’s the last thing you wanted.

You look back at Kacey, shaking your head. “I’m good. Gonna shower anyways.”

You move away from her, grabbing your bag and walking down the hallway. You don’t even bother dropping anything in your room first, heading to the bathroom and shutting the door. It’s moments like this where you wish you and Kacey had gone a little nicer on your apartment, because your broken bathroom lock is staring at you right in the face as you pray everyone respects your privacy.

You turn on the shower to let it heat up, but the minute you see yourself in the mirror, the tears begin to fall. You just hoped the sound of the water drowned out your quiet sobs as you gripped the counter to try and keep yourself steady.

“Is she gonna be okay?” Ethan asks as Kacey comes to sit back down with a frown on her lips.

She nods, sighing. “Yeah, she just hates talking about that stuff with anyone. Hell, I barely know anything, just that she had it kind of rough growing up and she’s still pretty fucked up for it. She usually needs a few days to recuperate from a good visit to her family, so I’m surprised she was able to get through the living room without crying.”

The three guys take in the new information in silence, Ethan wrapping his arm around Kacey to keep her close to him.

Grayson stands, wiping his hands on his shorts. Ethan raises a brow at him in question, while Kacey and Ryan simply watch his movements.

“I have to pee.”

“We only have one bathroom, Gray,” Kacey reminds him.

“I know.”

He turns and walks to the hallway you disappeared down just a few minutes before.

“Grayson,” Kacey calls to him, making him turn to look at her.

She gives him a do you have any idea what you’re doing? look.

His lips tighten as he gives her a curt nod before turning back and walking up to the bathroom door. He knocks gently, putting his ear close to the wood to try and hear you behind it.

The sound makes you jump as you sniffle and quickly wipe your nose. “Kacey, listen. I know you’re worried, but I really just need a shower first.”

Your voice is thick, and it’s obvious to Grayson that you’d been crying. It breaks his heart a bit, as confusing as it is for him. Is that what you sounded like if he had made you cry?

“It’s me.”

The second you hear his voice your whole body tenses as you lift your head to look at yourself in the mirror again. Your eyes are red and puffy, your nose irritated and your lips swollen. You somehow looked ten times worse than when you first walked in the door, and you had little interest in letting Grayson in.

“Y/N.”

You sigh, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back down. “What?”

“I gotta pee.”

You scoff, and the familiar anger you hadn’t felt for almost 6 weeks weeks boils right back up in you. You hate to admit it, but it felt good to feel something normal, something other than sadness even if it’s just for a moment.

You swing the door open standing almost chest to chest with the man who has haunted you for way too long now.

“I’m going to take a fucking shower first. Then you can pee.” You sound way less angry than normal, much less of a bite to your words.

His face is soft as he takes in your appearance, his body blocking you into the bathroom without an escape.

“It’s an emergency.”

It’s clearly not, and by the tone of his voice you’re not even sure he has to pee at all. He’s casual, calm even, besides the worry on his face.

You groan and sniffle, rolling your eyes before turning and walking farther into the room. “Can you at least let me get in first?”

He steps into the tiny room with you, closing the door behind him. “Sure.”

“Without you in here.”

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve already seen it all. Get in the shower so I can pee.”

“Turn around,” you whine, and he can tell your patience is running thin. You’re grateful he doesn’t push you farther, his body turning so his back is to you. You’re quick to strip yourself of your clothes, opening the curtain and stepping in.

“I can’t believe you couldn’t wait ten minutes to fucking pee,” you complain, grabbing your shampoo.

You hear Grayson move around outside the shower.

“If you’re gonna complain about me at least do it to my face so I’m not talking to a damn curtain like an idiot.”

You pull the curtain back so that your head can pop out to see he is sat on the now closed toilet seat.

“Fucking dick, didn’t even need to take a piss. Why do you have this incessant need to bother me all the time?” You throw the curtain back into place, beginning to wash your hair as you do your best to control your breathing. You can feel the tears that still threaten to spill start to well up in your eyes, but you’ll be damned if you’re caught crying by Grayson Dolan.

“You make it fun,” he chuckles out.

You bite your lip, pausing your movements to prevent any tears from falling. You’re unsuccessful, feeling a few fall down your cheeks before you can stop them, but the water washes them away quickly. You take some deep breaths, washing the shampoo from your hair to try and calm down a bit. You didn’t like how your anger at Grayson was making you sad now, too.

“Y/N?” He taps on the curtain, causing you to jump and gasp. Your hand comes to your chest to cover your heart that was already beating fast.

“What?” You snap.

“I went 6 weeks without talking to you, I’m not leaving until you fucking say something back.”

You huff, and honestly consider sitting on the floor because of your lack of energy. “What do you want me to fucking say, Grayson?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs, and you can hear him get up and pace. “That you hate me, that you think I’m annoying and rude and narcissistic and that I’m dense or whatever the fuck you feel like I am today! Just fucking call me something, say something.”

“Well, I don’t have the energy to fight your dumbass right now, so either pee or leave.”

Grayson smiles to himself at the name you still managed to throw in there, but it quickly falls when he hears a tiny sniffle from you.

You don’t hear anything from him for a minute, and you begin to assume that he had managed to sneak out without you knowing.

So you condition your hair, letting the tears roll down your face again as your ears begin to ring from how overwhelming everything has been the past day, weekend, months. You can barely keep your surroundings clear in your mind with everything racing through it.

Which is why when the curtain is suddenly being thrown back and a naked Grayson is stepping in the shower with you, you almost scream bloody murder before he covers your mouth and grabs your hip to keep you from stumbling backwards.

You relax at his touch, realizing you’re not going to get murdered (watching Criminal Minds was probably not the best idea when you’re so high stress at the moment). He removes his hand and you frown immediately.

“Why the hell are you in my shower with me?”

“Because you won’t talk!” At this point you can see how distressed he is, the wrinkles around his eyes more pronounced than normal and his bags darker than normal. It’s really the first time you’ve had to consider how much you guys not talking could have weighed on him. You assumed he would find a new girl and move on, while you made Kacey practically babysit you. It never crossed your mind that he would have felt even similarly to you.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

You can see how your words cut deep instantly, and you regret saying them. Especially because it’s not true, you’re finding yourself wanting nothing more than for him to stay right now and talk to you. To comfort you.

“So then tell me what happened six weeks ago that changed shit. Or tell me what happened with your dad. Or just fucking tell me something,” he pleads weakly.

You wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him flush against your wet body. You rest your head on his chest and close your eyes while one of his large hands caresses your back, the other coming up to stroke your hair.

You guys stand like that for a while, your sense of time totally thrown off. It could have been two minutes or two hours, you didn't know. But he stayed there holding you, keeping you close to him.

“I really wanna tell you about my dad, but I can’t right now,” you mumble out.

His muscles tense for a moment at the sound of your scratchy voice before he continues to rub your back.

“You don’t have to. Are you physically okay?” You nod, your cheek rubbing against his now wet chest. “Yeah. It’s just really hard to say out loud, and I need to process it before I tell someone.”

“That’s okay.” He leans down to leave a few gentle kisses along your hairline.

“But know that when I do tell you it’ll make more sense why I hated you. And why it’s hard for me to trust you. And why I avoided you for so long. It’s not an excuse, but know I don’t like being this way.”

He tightens his arms around you, resting his cheek on top of your head. “I don’t think I was very helpful to the cause, either.”

You chuckle, cuddling further into him. “I should probably finish showering.”

He lets go of you with that, holding you by your shoulders instead. “Want help?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No, I know how to wash my own body. Plus, you don’t get to touch my tits yet.”

He pouts, letting his gaze fall to them. “Why not?”

“Because I’m still mad at you for lying about having to pee.” You put your hands on his chest, nudging him backwards a bit.

“Hey - hey, wait a second.” He grabs your wrists to stop your movements, pulling you back to him easily.

You both have stupid grins on your face, unable to contain the new feelings rushing through the both of you. Well, not new. But you were allowing yourself to finally feel them without covering them with anger.

He leans in closer to you, finally letting his lips touch yours for what feels like the first time. Yes, you’ve kissed before, and it was electric every time. But this? This was a whole new level.

His lips were soft and meaningful against yours, his movements well thought out as he did his best to portray everything he couldn’t verbally with the way his lips fit so perfectly with yours. You felt butterflies in your stomach from how slow and sensual he was being, and you felt like you could melt right into him because of it.

Once he was satisfied, he grabbed the back of your head to keep you steady while he pecked a few quick kisses against your lips, making you smile against him. He only pulled away when you were both giggling.

“I guess I’ll leave you to finish your shower, then.”

You bit your lip, nodding your head. “Yeah. But can you do two things for me?”

He smiles and nods eagerly.

You giggle, putting a hand on his hip to start guiding him out of the shower. “Can you kick everyone out? And then sit on the toilet to keep me company?”

He smirks, stepping out of the tub. “What if I actually have to pee now?”

“So then fucking pee but don’t flush. I’m more concerned with getting everyone out.”

“Not gonna be able to contain how loud you’ll be when you finally let me touch you?”

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes. “You make it so hard to not wanna make fun of everything you say.”

“Hey, I’d rather you make fun of me every day than not talk to me at all,” he admits, his tone still joking but you can tell he’s serious.

You feel your cheeks blush as your chest swells, so you close the curtain to continue showering. “Get everyone out, you cocky, horny, dickhead.”

He laughs, grabbing a towel from the rack hanging next to him. “There she is,” he mumbles to himself, but you hear and feel your blush deepen further.

He walks to the door and opens it, walking the few feet it takes to reach where everyone was still anxiously waiting.

“Everything’s under control here. You guys gotta head out, though.”

Kacey looks at him in shock, taking in his almost naked, completely wet body as she pieces everything together with a look of confusion on her face.

“Do you have a fucking UTI or some shit?” Ethan laughs while his eyes are still on his phone before he also looks up at him, his phone falling out of his hands and into his lap. “Dude what the fuck?”

“I think we should go,” Ryan chimes in, standing up and clearing the containers from the coffee table.

“Grayson, what’s happening?” Kacey stands, concern still written all over her face. She walks up to him quickly, pointing a finger at him. “Did you take advantage of her? Grayson, she’s hurt! What the-”

Grayson easily grabs the hand that her pointed finger is attached to as he rolls his eyes. “No, Kacey. I talked to her. Comforted her, made her feel better.” Kacey raises her eyebrows at the last comment which makes Grayson groan. “Not like that. Made her heart feel better. I’ll tell her to text you when she’s feeling up to it for you to come home for her to explain, but please leave. She asked me to get you guys out.”

Her face softens at that as she looks over his shoulder at the open bathroom door.

“Y/N!” She calls loud enough for you to hear over the running water.

“Yeah?” Your voice is muffled but she can hear you’re less emotional than when you walked in the door. This makes her relax a bit.

“You want us out?”

“Yes please!”

That seems to satisfy her, as she backs away from Grayson slowly. “I can’t believe it,” she mumbles under her breath, shaking her head as she grabs her phone.

“Bro what is going on?” Ethan stands, looking at his brother for answers.

“Please,” Grayson practically begs. “Please leave and we can talk about it all later.”

“Yeah something tells me we don’t want to be around for when Y/N gets out of the shower,” Ryan adds as he gets his own stuff ready to go.

“Why are you so chill right now?” Ethan asks him.

Ryan shrugs, looking to Grayson for a moment.

“You got this?” Grayson asks.

Ryan nods, and Grayson turns quickly to make it back to the bathroom, back to you.

When the door shuts both Kacey and Ethan look directly at Ryan.

“Did you know about this? What the fuck is happening?” Ethan asks him as Ryan ushers them both to the front door.

“It’s not my place to tell you guys. But we definitely want to leave them alone.”

The two both continue to pester Ryan while they leave, and Grayson lets out a sigh of relief once he hears quiet outside from his place on the toilet.

“They’re gone,” he mumbles, rubbing his hands on the towel still wrapped around his waist.

“Hmm, suddenly I think I need a two hour shower.”

He groans, leaning back and hissing at the cold porcelain against his skin. “I’ll get back in with you.”

“You’re not invited,” you laugh, and Grayson laughs with you.

You’re quick to finish washing your body, itching to be out there with Grayson again. He sits there in a daze, replaying the sound of your laugh in his head on repeat and wondering how he went so long without it. And how much he regrets not being the source of it more often.

When you shut the water off, Grayson sits up giddily as he waits for you to finally get out. Somehow your time away from him now feels longer than the six weeks prior.

Your reach for your towel, lazily drying off because something told you there wouldn’t be many clothes in your near future. When you step out, towel held up to your front, Grayson is watching you with nothing but admiration on his face.

“What?”

He shakes his head, his smile so wide his cheeks hurt but he didn’t care. “Nothing. Just missed you.”

You giggle, going to straddle his thighs and sit on his lap, your towel barely covering you still. He grabs the back of your bare upper thighs to keep you steady as your free hand rests on his shoulder.

“You were literally sitting out here for, like, two minutes alone while I finished showering.”

He shakes his head chuckling, his gaze falling from your face to where you held the towel against your body as a rare feeling took over: shyness. It’s hard to make Grayson Dolan shy, to make him blush, but you’ve managed to do it.

“I meant the month and a half we didn’t see each other, but then too.” He shrugs as his thoughts run a mile a minute. “Fuck.” He laughs louder as he finally lets his eyes meet yours again.

“What now?”

“I’m feeling all...soft and shit. I don’t know. I’m not used to it.”

“Wow, I’m amazing. The girl to make the asshole who is Grayson Dolan soft for five minutes.”

“Yeah, let’s go with just five minutes,” he grunts as he stands, keeping his strong hold around you to keep you in his arms.

You laugh, pulling your chest against his as you wrap your arms around his neck to keep yourself steady in his grip.

“Oh, and for the record,” you say while playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck as he does his best to maneuver to your room while looking at you. “I missed you too.”

Tags: @spideysimpossiblegirl​

read the next part here!

[wondernimbus]

stressful times — fred weasley

pairing: fred weasley x female!reader

request #1: Can I request soft Fred Weasley comforting his girlfriend when she’s not feeling well/on her period and falling behind in classes/ homework? Pretty please 🥺

request #2: Can you write a Fred x reader where the reader is on her period while at Hogwarts during a time when a lot of tests are happening and she needs to be studying but isn’t and Fred notices cause usually she’s like Hermione and always does homework/studies and he figures out why she isn’t and helps her feel better? 

a/n: THIS IS WAY OVERDUE IM SORRY but i decided to combine these 2 reqs bc they were pretty similar !! 

[Y/N] is stressed.

School has never been a piece of cake for anyone—not even for Hermione Granger, who is one of the brightest people at Hogwarts, and certainly not for her, one of the Gryffindor Quidditch team's Chasers, and on top of that, a prefect currently studying for her N.E.W.Ts.

Wood expects her to practice out by the Quidditch pitch every free period in preparation for the upcoming match against Hufflepuff. This goes for every member of the team—even the ones who, like [Y/N], are studying for the so-called "big exams". And despite [Y/N] wanting to do well in her tests, she also doesn't want to lose her position in the Quidditch team—so she goes to the practice sessions, anyway, even if it's at the cost of her sleep.

That—coupled with her prefect duties and schoolwork—is wearing her out. So far she has managed to miraculously plow through, but when that time of the month comes and she can barely even bring herself to get out of bed, [Y/N] begins to wonder whether giving up would be a better option.

She could do it. Drop everything and lay in bed all day for the next week or so with a bag of chocolates at her side and pillows cushioning her entire body.

She could—technically, anything in the world is possible—but she shouldn’t, because she has obligations. Prefect tasks; patrolling the corridors and making sure no first-years go astray in the Forbidden Forest (it already happened once—she's not going to let it happen again), N.E.W.T. revisions, homework, Quidditch practice, homework, and then even more homework—

The very moment she wakes up and feels the pain in her lower abdomen, she knows she is done for. She only barely drags herself out of bed and trudges to her classes the entire day feeling like pure and utter dung. Her entire body is sore and her entire mood cranky, but that hardly matters because she has homework to do. And classes to go to. And Quidditch practice and patrolling and studying and Merlin-knows-what-else.

The sourness of her mood doesn't go amiss by any of her friends, and certainly not by her boyfriend, Fred Weasley, who automatically just knows when something is out of the ordinary with her. And while her friends decide to leave her alone after noting her less than pleasant mood, Fred does quite the opposite.

Which is, of course, no different from what he does everyday: stick by her side like glue. And while they'd been best friends for a while, it's only been a few months since Fred finally sucked up the courage to ask her out. So naturally Fred has very little experience with, ah, women’s dilemmas.

To put it simply, he doesn't know how to deal with a girl on her bloody (no pun intended) period. For the love of Merlin, he can't even tell.

So he's a little surprised and his feelings are a teeny bit hurt when he nudges her in the middle of Charms class and whispers, "Was that an earthquake? Or did you just rock my world?" only for her to shake her head without even as much as looking at him.

And so Fred's thought process goes like this: he's done something terribly wrong. He doesn't know what, but he must have, and now he has to make up for it—whatever it is.

First, though, he has to figure out what.

—

It's midnight. [Y/N] doesn't know how on earth she managed to get through the entire day without passing out, but she did and now here she is in the nearly empty common room, sitting on the carpet in front of the fireplace with several sheets of parchment and open textbooks splayed out before her.

Jotting down History of Magic notes, her face is scrunched up in the utmost concentration. Fred watches her from where he's sitting on the couch, pouting a little.

"Don't you think you should be resting by now?" tries Fred, the concern in his voice audible as his gaze darts from her to her homework.

She doesn't respond. Fred sighs and gets up off the couch to sit down next to her on the ground. But even then, she doesn't look up from her homework, so Fred takes matters into his own hands and reaches out with his hand to gently cup her cheek, trying to tilt her head towards him.

"Not now, Fred.." she mutters, leaning away from him a little to keep writing. His hand hovers in mid-air, fingers now just barely brushing her face as she's moved away. "I have to.. finish this.."

Her tongue is poking out in concentration as she almost feverishly moves her quill over paper. Fred tries not to feel too dejected and lets her be, waiting until she's broken out of her trance enough to grab her attention again. In the meantime, he props his elbows on his knees, the pout on his lips very much evident as he watches her work. He still doesn't know why she's been acting so distant, and no matter how much he tries to mull things over in his brain, he still doesn't know why exactly she's angry at him. Or if she even is angry.

Was his pick-up line really that bad? Could it maybe be because he'd kept trying to play with her hair in potions class the other day? Or is it because of what he did last week, when he’d talked McGonagall’s ear off about how wonderful a girlfriend he had? Maybe Fred should've been a bit more considerate—[Y/N] has always been a teacher's pet, after all, and he knows that the teachers themselves were surprised when they found out that she was dating him, one-half of the devious Weasley twins who had six O.W.L.s combined..

[Y/N]'s hand stills, and for a moment Fred thinks she's finally finished her homework, but her shoulders have bowed a little and her eyes have closed. The effect this image has on Fred is instantaneous: the pout on his lips is replaced quickly by a fond smile as he lets out a quick breath of slightly dubious laughter and moves to gently tap her on the shoulder.

Slowly, slowly, her eyes blink open.

Another tiny laugh. "You fell asleep for a second there, love," says Fred softly, hand moving to touch her hair, and he's so bloody endeared by her it hurts. Voice a mere mumble like he’s afraid of speaking too loud, he says, "Reckon we should turn in for the night, yeah? You and me both."

There's silence as she exhales, leaning into his touch almost unconsciously as her eyes close and her shoulders slump. "I'm really tired," she tells him quietly, nose wrinkling a little as her mouth stretches open in a yawn. (Good grief, Fred's heart aches.) He scoots forward a little into her, gathering her into his lap where she almost automatically curls up, head on his shoulder and her lips just barely grazing the side of his neck.

Fred can't even remember what he'd been agonizing over just moments before. All his fluttering heart cares about at the moment is his sleepy girlfriend, who's shifting a little in his lap to get herself more comfortable, mumbling something inaudible in her half-asleep state. He has to physically suppress himself from throwing his head back and laughing out loud, because something about the situation he's in is making him feel oddly euphoric. He only has to think about if for a few moments before he realizes why: it's because of how adorable she's being. And Fred’s heart might be melting in his chest—should he be concerned?

"I'm gonna carry you up to your dorm, okay?" says Fred, tone just loud enough to make himself heard but quiet and soft enough so as to not jar her awake. He feels her nod a little against his shoulder. Carefully, he gets to his feet, one arm under her legs and the other supporting her back the way a groom would carry his bride. (The thought crosses Fred's head very briefly and just like that he's smiling goofily to himself.)

And the moment is romantic and intimate in a quiet, calming way, until Fred makes the big mistake of murmuring, "I'll fix up your homework and bring it to you so you can work on it tomorrow" and [Y/N] quite literally freezes in his arms. Her entire body goes rigid.

"Homework. Oh, crap." Fully awake now, she lifts her head off of his shoulder, looks back at her pile of homework still on the ground, and then, her panicked eyes meeting his, she says, "Oh, no. No. I can't—I've got to get it done now, Fred."

An incredulous sound tumbles past his lips. "I could've sworn you were asleep two seconds ago.”

She sighs, squeezing her eyes shut for a few seconds before peeling them open again. Fred notes that the bags under them look even more pronounced up close; something that has him frowning at her. “Put me down, please? I really have to get that essay done."

He huffs, shakes his head, and starts walking towards the staircase leading to the girls' dormitory. "What—" [Y/N] yelps, looking up at him with an expression that suggests he’s admitted to strangling a rabbit. "Fred, I said put me down—"

"And let you work yourself to death? No can do, love." Fred looks down at her, lips pressed together in a sorry smile as he shakes his head. He lifts his gaze back away from her as he begins climbing up the steps, trying not to jostle [Y/N] too much in his arms. His tone sing-song, he says, “You need to rest. The essay can wait."

[Y/N] opens her mouth to predictably retaliate, but Fred stops halfway up the staircase and presses a kiss to her lips, effectively cutting her off. At first she’s stiff, but it only takes her a few seconds to relax and melt into him.

When Fred pulls away with one last peck to the lips, he smiles down at her, eyes twinkling. “Have I changed your mind with my superior snogging skills?”

Unable to help herself, she lets out an exasperated laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. But even then her gaze lingers on her homework, still on the floor in front of the fireplace—totally not yet finished—

“But I’ve only got a few pages left to go,” she says in one last stroke of adamancy.

”And what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you stay up all night without getting enough sleep?” They’ve reached the top of the staircase now, and Fred is fumbling with the doorknob of her dorm room, trying to open it with one hand without having to set her down.

“But Freddy.”

Fred pauses trying to open the door, lips unconsciously twitching up into an incredulous grin as he raises his eyebrows at her. Of course she had to use his one big weakness against him—he loves when she calls him Freddy. Or perhaps love is a severe understatement, because he always goes all putty in her hands whenever she sings it into his ear or shouts it at him from all the way across the hallways.

But Fred isn’t having it, not this time. “But [Y/N],” he mimics her tone, still grinning, and the voice in his heart tells him to peck her lips again, so he does. “I'm telling you, love, you need sleep. And besides, we’re already here—once I get this door open—aha!”

The door clicks open and reveals behind it the dark seventh year girls’ dorm room. Fred peers inside, unsure as he steps a single hesitant foot through the door, and then he withdraws back into the landing. “Suppose I'll have to drop you off here,” tuts Fred. “Can’t really barge into an all-girls dorm room in the middle of the night—even when I’m with you. Mum would have my head.” Gingerly, he sets her down on the ground, making sure she’s standing up completely before he takes his hands away. Grinning, he holds his palm out towards her and says, “That’ll be twenty galleons.”

”I didn’t even ask for—“

“A kiss, then.”

And her incomplete homework is still lingering in her head, bothering her—she really does need to have that done at least before breakfast tomorrow—but Fred is standing in front of her with the same playful smile that [Y/N] has never learned to resist so she sighs and stands on her tip-toes, places her hand on the back of his neck, and pulls him in for a kiss.

Fred is smiling—she can feel it against her lips. Eventually she starts smiling too, unable to help herself. When she pulls away, Fred cups her cheeks in his hand and pecks her forehead—and then her nose, and her cheeks, and her eyelids, and then she’s laughing, saying, “What are you doing?”

Fred lands another kiss to the tip of her nose, then drops his hands back to his sides. “You look far too lovely for someone in dire need of sleep.”

At the mention of sleep, a yawn tears its way out of her throat. Fred has to restrain himself from doubling over and sobbing because Merlin’s beard was that adorable.

”Fine,” [Y/N] says through yet another yawn, hand coming up to rub at her eyes. “Fine. Maybe I am tired.”

Fred gasps far too dramatically. “Who ever could have guessed?”

[Y/N] may be sleepy, but she still has enough strength within her to reach out and shove him lightly by the shoulder. Fred is as theatrical as always; he clutches the spot where she’d touched him as though he’s been fatally wounded.

She rolls her eyes, smiling. Another yawn. Fred drops his act and shoves his hands into his pockets, expression somber as he looks at her, eyes dancing over her own tired ones. “Go get some sleep, alright?”

She purses her lips, shoulders slumping in defeat as she nods. “Okay. Suppose I’ll just try to finish it as fast as I can tomorrow.” And then, voice going soft, she says, “Thanks, Fred.”

Fred is so goddamned endeared.

“And. Um.”

”Yes?”

“Sorry about being so bloody cranky. I'm—“ she pauses, eyes darting away for a moment as she gestures wildly to nothing in particular.

Fred raises his eyebrows.

“On my period,” she mutters. “Have I made it awkward? I'm sorry. I just didn’t want you to think you’d done something wrong for me to be acting.. you know.”

Fred’s brows have risen so far up his forehead he’s surprised they haven’t disappeared into his hair. His mouth has fallen open a little in surprise; whatever he’d been expecting her to say, it certainly hadn’t been that. But part of him is relieved at the knowledge that he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“So that’s why you’ve been acting like someone pissed in your tea,” says Fred teasingly. She rolls her eyes again—another yawn; the largest one so far, actually. He can’t help the fond laugh that tears its way out of his heart and past his lips. Reaching out, he places a hand on the back of her head and kisses her forehead. “Sweet dreams, love.”

She wraps her arms around his middle and nods into his chest, and Fred’s heart melts. “You too, Freddy.”

—

The next morning, [Y/N] wakes up to a mysteriously completed set of History of Magic homework and a bag of Honeydukes' chocolates on her bedside table.