#when things go away it means they can come back

[luveline]

𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Spencer gets a bad bout of amnesia. Or, your boyfriend forgets he’s your boyfriend, but he still has a crush on you. [3k]

c: fem, bombshell!reader, head injury, hospitals, amnesia, fluff, spencer can’t believe he bagged you, requested here 

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚⋆

Spencer wakes to an empty room. 

He lays on a pillow too flat, neck twinging, the back of his eyes throbbing when he moves.

He struggles to breathe through his nose and lets his mouth open for a few achy breaths, his mouth dry like he’s been sucking on cotton balls. 

Spencer’s alarmed, without a clue what it is he’s done. He wonders where Gideon is, if the older man has come to see him yet. He hopes somebody told his mom he’s okay. 

Maybe Hotch will come. He and Hotch have grown closer while Gideon was on his mandated recovery time; Gideon spends far less time in the office, sticking to lectures, seminars and consults, while Hotch, Morgan and Spencer handle the away cases. Spencer might go as far as to say Hotch likes him. And Morgan can tolerate him now, less grudging when Spencer offers a random fact or statistic to further the case. 

A stab of pain at the back of his head makes itself known sharply.

Spencer doesn’t want to move, but he needs to assess things. He frowns at his arms, naked as they are. His silver watch is missing. A t-shirt that he doesn’t remember buying stretches over his chest. What state are they in, and who dressed him? 

He’s scowling at the window with it’s wide-open blinds and all the sun when the door opens. 

You’re looking at the bags on your arm as you come in. Spencer startles in his blankets —what are you doing here? Agent L/N, Morgan’s friend and a candidate for the open position on the BAU team. You’re from the Sex Crimes Unit, like Greenaway. 

Spencer flusters every time he sees you, not just because of how kind you’d been the first time you met, or even the easy flirtation you send his way when you cross paths. It’s because you’re the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. He’s not talking about the golden ratio or statistical beauty, you’re just stunning. You stop him in his tracks whenever you steal into the office. It’s better when you notice he’s awake and light up like he’s the winning numbers for tonight’s lottery pull. Everything about you illuminates. 

“Hey, babe!” you say, not not yelling as you drop your bags in the seat by the bed and reach for him.

He doesn’t think to move away as you take his face into your hands.

“I’m so glad you’re finally awake, you almost slept for the full twenty four hours.” Your hands are soft. They smell like neroli. When you stroke his cheek and lean down to give him a chaste peck, he almost passes out there and then. “It's a good thing, obviously,” you say, and then kiss him again distractedly. Spencer squeezes his eyes closed. “You heal more when you’re asleep. Or so I’ve heard.” 

You pull away, Spencer blinking for his life. You have such a nice mouth, but Spencer’s never thought about what it might feel like on his. He doesn’t have the audacity: in what world would you ever kiss him? That’s the joke, right, when you flirt with him in the office?

“How are you feeling?” you ask, losing some of your pep. “How’s your head, handsome? You know, there are easier ways to get a haircut.” 

“They cut my hair?” he croaks. 

“Shaved it at the back to stitch you up. Not much, don’t worry. They were pushing for a buzz cut but I put my foot down on that one,” you joke. You nudge his legs aside without worrying about sitting on him as you get comfortable. “It’s not much. You can’t tell.”

“I…” 

“You feeling okay?” you ask softly. Your nice mouth purses. Your eyebrows pinch. They’re cute eyebrows. 

“You look different than the last time I saw you.” 

He doesn’t mean to say it aloud. He’s noticing things now. You’re wearing less powder under your eyes than you used to. You seem to have gained a little weight, and you look good. You didn’t look bad before, but this is different. Your hair isn’t too different, nor your brows, but you’ve begun lining your lips in a new way. Your blush is a subtler hue. Spencer doesn’t claim to know everything about you, but he can say that you look neatly the same each time you visit. Why the sudden change?

“It’s hard to sleep when your favourite person in the world gets his head cut open,” you say, taking his hand where he’d left it loose in the blankets. 

Your fingers slip into his with ease. 

“Can I tell you something?” he asks, attempting to swallow his nerves. 

“Of course you can.” 

He licks his lips. “Uh, I think I’m confused. I don’t– I don’t remember what happened, and…” 

“Oh, right. They told me this might happen.” You draw yourself up with a breath. He’s fascinated by the movement, an air of heat around him as you begin rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. “You got hit in the back of the head with a cinder block, honey. Went down like a lead balloon.” You turn your face to show your cheek. “We’re even now on good scares, yeah?” 

You have a scar on your face he’d missed, carefully concealed but yet not invisible. Your hand in his feels so alien he holds it wrong, fingers twined but palms apart. 

“What happened to you?” he asks. 

Your brow crinkles. You go very still. “My cheek?” you ask. 

“What…” 

“Spencer, what’s the last thing you can remember, honey?” you ask, all the horror in the world to be found in your eyes. 

“Uh…” He feels sick to his stomach.

“Spencer?” 

Without having to be told, you slip off of the bed with two taps of your shoes and reach for the bedpan, thrusting it into his lap. 

His mouth fills with spit. “I’m fine,” he says. 

“No, I don’t think so. Let me get a doctor.” 

“Wait,” he says, clutching the bedpan and pushing his wave of nausea as far down as he can. “Please don’t go.” 

“My face was months ago, honey. I got hit in the face with a hammer by a UnSub, you don’t remember?” you ask incredulously. 

“Why do you keep calling me honey?” he asks. He knows the answer, but it’s not computing. 

Your face drains of any happiness. “I’m going to get a doctor,” you say, shoulders rigidly tight as you exit the room, leaving Spencer in your wake wishing he’d just pretended he knew who you were, just until you kissed him again. 

—

“And he really can’t remember you at all?” Morgan asks. 

You’re a little less startled than you had been, and you’re trying not to punish poor Spencer, but realising your boyfriend forgot years of flirting, and yearning, and friendship —years of kissing in secret and otherwise, years of holding hands, and staying at each other’s places to get that extra time together, even if it was just getting to sleep in the same bed between cases— was a slap. 

“He remembers me,” you say, leg crossed over the other, arm over the railing of Spencer’s bed to hold his hand. “He just doesn’t remember a thing after Gideon came back, after Boston.” 

“I remember when you had hair,” Spencer says to Derek. 

Derek glares at him, “This Spencer doesn’t get to sass me.” 

“But I do eventually?” 

“How come you’re holding hands if he doesn’t know who you are?” Derek asks pointedly. 

You shrug. “We talked about it, didn’t we?” you ask Spencer, who perks up every time you talk, which isn’t unlike your usual Spencer. Whenever he catches himself doing it he flusters. Every time you call him baby he loses his mind. “He doesn’t remember me, but he wants to. And I remember him.” 

“This must be pretty weird for you, kid,” Derek says. 

“Sort of,” Spencer says. 

It’s funny. Now you know Spencer thinks he’s twenty three again, you can’t not notice his shyness and his awkward tries at casualness. You’d forgotten what he was like back then. 

“Wait, does that mean you don’t remember Emily?” Derek asks. 

Spencer frowns. “Uh, no?” 

You sit up in your chair. “Emily’s one of your best friends, honey. She joined the BAU when Greenaway left.”

“Not you?” he asks. 

You dramatise your pain as Derek laughs. “Not me. I didn’t transfer for a long time, unfairly. It’s okay, though, you’ll remember Emily eventually.” 

When you realised Spencer wasn’t as okay as you’d thought, you gathered a gaggle of agitated doctors to assess him. He knew his name and birthday. He was wrong about the date, the president, and the state. You’re in Arizona where he’d thought Indiana. Your bag talks to the heat: Spencer’s fan, his sunblock, his antihistamines. He couldn’t believe it when he asked where his stuff was and you passed him your handbag. 

You’re trying to drive home to him that you’re not just dating, you're common-law partners, Spence. He adores you. You’d spend life in his lap if you could afford it. 

“How’d she get you to believe her?” Derek asks Spencer. 

“Uh.” 

“I kissed him a couple of times before he came clean about the amnesia,” you say. “So I didn’t have to explain.” 

“I didn’t mean to lie,” Spencer says. 

He’s looking less haggard now you’ve brushed his hair. It was sweet to watch his shoulders relax. He shuddered when you tucked a strand behind his ears, and didn’t flinch when you asked if you could kiss his cheek. It’s hard to have him vulnerable here and not be allowed to lick his wounds for him. You feel better the better he feels. You’ve fluffed his pillow, wrapped him tighter in blankets. When he got up to pee and you offered to help, he gave a resolute No Thank You, which in hindsight is hilarious but at the time made you wanna squeeze your eyes out. 

“It’s okay,” you say softly, “I don’t mind kissing him, even if he doesn’t remember me. Just so long as he doesn’t mind it back.”

Spencer manages to squeeze your hand. It’s a soft one, but it’s real. “I don’t mind.” 

“You dog,” Derek says. 

“Stop, stop. He’s not doing anything wrong, is he?” you ask. “I’m the evil one, forcing kisses on him when he doesn’t know me.” 

“I do know you,” Spencer says. 

“What’s it like to have a crush on your own girlfriend?” Derek asks, unwilling to quit his teasing where he’s crossing his arms in the chair opposite, his cup of coffee drained on the side table. 

Spencer swallows. “Uh, nerve-wracking.” 

“Believe it or not, that’s not so different to now,” Derek says. 

Spencer looks to you for confirmation, which you love. You slide your chair closer to him and clasp his wrist with your free hand. “Sometimes you're still a little shy, but it’s not so bad. Full of myself I may be, Spencer Reid, but you do love me. It’s easy with us.” 

“Do we really live together?” he asks. “You said common-law.” 

“Not technically. I stay at your place four nights a week. You stay with me for the weekends.” 

“Every week?” he asks.

“Yeah.” 

“We’re never apart?” he asks. 

His face is turning pink. You could kiss every bit of colour on his cheeks. 

“Derek, would you get Spencer something to eat from the cafeteria? Please?” you ask, levelling your friend with a pleading gaze. 

Derek gathers himself up. “Sure. We gotta feed the string bean something, don’t we?” he asks. 

Alone again, you draw lines up and down Spencer’s arm with your nails. You’re going to be indulgent in yourself, and ask him everything you’d ever wanted to know. And then a little extra, too. 

“You’re not as skinny anymore, have you noticed? You’re quite lean.” You stand to sit where you’d put yourself before he confessed. Your hand falls to his knee. “Solid, sometimes. You and Derek go for walks occasionally.” 

“We do?” 

“Mm-hm. And me and you do yoga in the living room when we can summon the energy. We tried couples Pilates, but Pilates is hard.” 

“We did?”

You smile warmly. “It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves in the same way.” 

“How do you love?” 

His ears are bitten-red. “Oh, you know. I’m too affectionate. It’s hard not to be with you. Everyone used to think we were… I don’t know, playing a game.” You slide your hand up his thigh, leaning on him to watch his pupils blow. “But I love you for far more than your constant propensity to blush. You get me flowers every time you see my favourites, and you never let me go to sleep without a kiss. Usually here.” You poke the skin beside your eye. “But sometimes you’ll surprise me and kiss my nose.” You're going lax with love, remembering things he’s done, and does every day.  “On a Saturday morning we make tea and I put my hands in your t-shirt. You do the crosswords for fun. Sometimes we time them.” 

“That’s not how you love, that’s what you love,” Spencer says. 

“Oh, you want a play by play of things?” He ducks his chin, but he smiles when you laugh. 

“I just can’t believe this is happening.”

You try to think of things you don’t think about anymore. “You love my sugar lip gloss, so I always wear it.” 

He reaches out tentatively. Shy as a wren in a hedgerow. You let him curl a hand over your elbow, feel the crook of it with his index finger. 

“I buy you stamps, and t-shirts for bed, and stupid stuff you wouldn’t get yourself. We’re… it’s like, it doesn’t feel like gift giving anymore because we’re always getting stuff for each other. You’re just as sweet, you know? When I first started sleeping over you bought me this huge pack of socks ‘cos yours are all odd,” you laugh. “I knew I loved you already, but…”

It’s a little sad, actually. He can’t remember all the stuff that makes you the couple you are. It’s not what you’d meant to get into. 

“Can I ask you something?” you ask. 

“Anything.” 

He’s slept-in and breathless, like he ran laps in his dreams. 

“What do you think of me now? I always wondered if you liked me back then, or if I just caught you off guard.” 

“Who wouldn’t like you?” 

“But did you?” 

He looks away hurriedly, his hand dropping from your elbow. “I guess so. But it’s not– not real. I have a crush on you.” His mumbling is sweet. “I have no idea why I’m telling you that.” 

“I had a crush on you, too, back then. It wasn’t anything serious, but it wasn’t a joke. And the more time we spent together, the more I thought we could fall in love,” —you take his hand and put it back on your arm— “and we did.” 

You toy with his fingers. Without looking, ashamed of your own self-indulgence, you ask another question. “What do you think of me now?” 

“I can’t remember,” he says sorrily. 

“What do you think?” 

“You feel like a dream.” He shakes his head. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. I don’t really get how this is real.” 

You shouldn’t be surprised that he’d say it, you practically begged for it, but you can’t stop yourself from sitting up to kiss his forehead gently. “It’s real. Promise. And for the record, you’re handsome. They stopped saying ‘aged like fine wine’ a while ago. Now they just say ‘aged like Spencer Reid’.”

He gives a choky laugh. 

The door opens again. You lift your head expecting Derek and find a weather worm Hotch in the doorway. “Reid, you’re awake,” he says, not bothering with a smile. “Morgan said you have amnesia?” He directs it at both of you. 

Spencer’s looking at Hotch in clear shock. 

“He hasn’t aged that badly,” you chastise teasingly. 

“Hotch, you’re– I thought you would’ve– You’re still–?”

Hotch squints. “You didn’t think I had the stamina for it?” 

Spencer squirms under his gaze. “No, sir, it’s not that–”

“Sir,” Hotch says, and then he smiles. “I forgot when you both used to respect me.” 

“I have the utmost respect for you, sir,” you say through your own smile. 

“Has she been kind to you, Reid?” 

“Uh, yes? Is she not usually?” 

Hotch presses his lips together rather than answer. There’s a sympathy in his expression you resent.

—

It’s a thankfully quick bout of amnesia. The memories start to draw in like a dusting of powdered sugar, his head finely silted, one particle at a time. He finds that the more you talk, the quicker his memory is jogged. You tell him about your first kiss —I tried to kiss your cheek but you moved, it was the funniest thing— and your second. You spin stories of cases, the worst ones and the best, all the times you held hands without people knowing, the times you’d been caught. He can’t imagine it, goes hot with the memory, picturing kissing you as you’d described and the mortification of being walked in on. 

You tell him about your vacation to Nevada a few months ago and he thinks about how you’d fallen asleep on the plane. Your nose in his arm, your unhappy sigh at the tight leg space. 

Remembering you is more than half of remembering himself.

Your hands —his hands. Your smile —his laugh. The way you fold his hands in your lap —the urge to catch your chin for a kiss. 

He doesn’t know how to deal with it, and then suddenly he feels like Spencer. Your partner, your love, his proudest title for years. You’re standing at the end of the hospital bed in pajamas folding your clothes, allowed to stay the night while he’s so urgently confused and upset, you can’t make him stay here alone, please, I know you guys have those little cots for the kids ward, and he just knows you completely. 

Hours of diligent if embezzled storytelling gives it all back to him. 

“I like the lipgloss because you used to wear that perfume that smelled like sugar donuts,” he says, scratching a hand through limp hair. “And every time I crossed the square by the station–”

You let out a surprising squeal of joy. “Spencer!” you say, racing to take his hands, “Yes! The donut truck!” 

You go in for a kiss he gladly returns. “Oh, you remember,” you say, softening as he takes your neck into his hand. “I was getting worried.” 

“Some of it’s still hazy, but not so much you.” 

You wrap your arms around him for a hug, careful of his sore head. “I missed you, Spencer. I still loved you when you couldn’t remember me, but I missed you. Do you remember you?” 

He traces the scar on your lower cheek with his thumb. He’s genuinely relieved to be able to say he does. He’s not scared of what you think of him anymore, ‘cos he knows that everything he feels for you is mutual. “I remember you telling me my bad feeling was just a case of the heebies.” 

You bend into his touch. “Honey, I’m sorry. How was I supposed to know you’d get your skull whacked with a cinder block? It was a bakery. I thought the worst that could happen was getting a face full of red velvet or something.” You kiss his nose quickly. “I’m so glad you’re you. Now I can sleep in the bed with you, and not that collapsible camping cot.” 

He shushes you. “Don’t give us away. They’re not gonna let you stay if they think I’m fine.” 

You giggle excitedly, arms around him again for another squeeze. “I missed you so much. You’re so devious now.” 

He rubs your back. “I missed you too. And I still have a crush on you, I swear.”

“Thank you, honey, that means a lot to me.” 

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thanks for reading!

[zephyrchama]

Though you might be forced to leave the Devildom, it will always be there. It will remain even if you can never go back. It existed long before you became an exchange student, and it will exist for long after.

It exists in the photos you've taken. Selfies, polaroids, and printed photographs. Screenshotted conversations and video recordings. In paintings and doodles and sketches. In journals and notes that are safely tucked away.

It exists in the days, months, and years' worth of memories you've accumulated. The time you've spent with its denizens and the hard work you struggled to accomplish won't just disappear. You built so many friendships. You filled so many attendance cards simply by gracing everyone with your presence. Worked so many jobs, learned so many new things, became so much stronger than when you first arrived.

It made you smile. It made you laugh. You can picture it in your dreams. It's part of the tears you shed, the anger you felt, and the silly jokes you put up with. Real emotions from a real world that changed you.

You may drift apart from the Devildom. At times you might even forget it exists. It's okay. It will come back when you least expect it. You'll experience so many new things, but none of them will overwrite the time you've spent with those who care for you.

You'll see them everywhere. You'll catch a glimpse of them in everyday objects, in snacks and books and money and more. You'll hear them in the wind on a typical evening when the sun is setting and the sky is a myriad of beautiful colors. In much the same way, they'll see glimpses of you on the roads you walked together every day, in the stores and parks you frequented. In the classroom window and in every doorway of the house. They'll see you in their dreams, too.

It's normal for humans to be in the human world. To be away from the supernatural and ignorant of what goes on outside of this realm. That's the natural order of things. That doesn't mean the Devildom is not there anymore. That doesn't mean they're all gone. It will always exist and you will carry its pieces with you forever.

[retiredteabag]

Uncle sukuna

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Uncle Sukuna hates children and that just makes kids like him more.

They are practically magnetized to the man.

If he was being honest, he's really just afraid of hurting them, that and he has no idea how to handle a crying child. So, he avoids them at all cost.

Sometimes there's just nothing he can do though, especially when a little monster like his nephew is napping on his chest.

Which he does frequently.

Sukuna would be mean. Straight up telling the kid he was annoying. Yuuji would almost never care.

Almost.

“Don’t even think about it you little brat.” Sukuna would protest, seeing Yuuji crawling across the sofa. “Nu uh. No. Get your sticky little hands off of me!”

But eventually he would have to give in, rolling his eyes as Yuuji found his place- drooling over Sukuna’s shoulder.

Sukuna was also the type to say no and never mean it.

“Can we watch my show kuna?”

“No.”

Five minutes later? They’re smooshed together watching Yuuji’s stupid cartoon.

“Uncuna… can you help with my math homework please?”

“No.”

The next second Sukuna is in full tutor mode.

You might think that he’s the type to make a kid cry over their geometry work, but he is typically more patient than expected.

“Kuna can you make me some cinnamon toast?”

“No.”

“Pleaseeeee?????”

“No, Yuuji.” He’s firm.

Yuuji knows he’s getting that toast.

Sukuna has a love hate relationship with the kid. For Yuuji, it’s just love. That’s why, on the rare occasion, Sukuna might be just a little too rough on him.

It would likely be after a long day, maybe he worked late, maybe he had to deal with a rude person, maybe he didn’t sleep well. Whatever the case, the tattooed man would have an already short fuse when he walked in the door.

Unaware of his bad mood, Yuuji would flip around on the sofa, hearing the key turn in the door.

“KUNA!!!”

Yuuji would bound off the couch, racing for his uncle. Sukuna would sigh and roll his eyes as the boys grubby little hands encircled his leg.

“Kuna kuna! I had a presentation at school today! And I did a really good job because everybody clapped at the end like this-“ the boy smacks his hands together over and over, a big smile on his face, “I was so nervous but now that it’s all over, I wish I could do it again! It was so fun! I can’t wait for my next presentation-“

“Oh my gosh Yuuji will you shut up? I really do not care about your school project.” Sukuna would know the second it left his mouth it wouldn’t be true.

Yuujis little arms would fall away from his uncle. A frown would cover his face. “O-oh okay.” He would stumble back, watching his uncles face.

Sukuna would groan inwardly. Knowing he had been too harsh. He never actually minded hearing about his nephews day, he was just overstimulated and now he felt awful. The little boy was holding up a strong facade but his lip wobbled. The man would sigh.

“Ugh, Yuuji, I’m sorry kid, that was wrong of me-“

“No.” The boy would sniffle, “s’okay. M’sorry for making you mad.”

Oh, now Sukuna might as well walk into oncoming traffic.

He sighs, “No, Yuuji, you didn’t do a thing wrong. Don’t apologize for anything, alright?” He would run a hand through his cropped pink hair, “listen, I’m glad your presentation went well, that’s good, how about we go get dinner after I wash up, whatever ya want.”

Yuujis eyes would widen, a big grin coming back, “Yeah?!” Sukuna would sigh at the kids forgiving nature.

“Yeah, kid, I’m starved.”

Yuuji would bounce up and down, then, without a moment’s hesitation, throw himself around his uncles leg.

Sukuna would pat the boys hair, cursing himself for being so short with the kid.

And after being so annoyed just a second ago, after watching Yuuji race off to change his clothes, Sukuna realized he had forgotten what had ruined his day to begin with.

Cute little brat.

[itneverendshere]

Could you please write btchy!pogue where shes the one whos jealous this time and rafe savors the moment.

don't like the way she's looking - r.c

pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x raf

the cut had a party tonight, like most summer nights.

the music was loud enough to shake the ground, beer kegs were getting drained faster than anyone could fill them, and people packed into the yard like sardines. 

it wasn’t fancy, but that was the point, pogue parties weren’t about appearances, you showed up, you drank, you made some bad decisions under the string lights, and you went home.

it wasn’t your favorite kind of night, but rafe had convinced you to come out, promising it’d just be a chill hangout. he lied.

instead of spending the night with you, he’s currently perched by his truck, surrounded by a rotating cast of pogues. you’re leaning against a beat-up picnic table, a half-warm beer in your hand, keeping one eye on rafe while he did his thing. 

by “his thing,” you mean selling weed to every pogue with a crumpled-up twenty and a dream.

to his credit, this is probably his best hustle yet.

rafe cameron, reformed asshole, and your probationary boyfriend, has somehow turned himself into the cut’s go-to dealer. it’s a whole thing, people like him now, which is fine. 

good for him, whatever, but some people like him a little too much. 

case in point? the girl currently throwing herself at him like a damn frisbee. you clocked her the second she strutted over. 

she wasn’t subtle about it, either—crop top hanging so low she might as well not have bothered, denim shorts so short they were illegal in some states. she’s leaning against his truck, like she’s in some fuck ass music video, her body language loud and clear. It’s the hand on his arm that does it for you. 

that, and her laugh. 

jesus, her laugh. high-pitched and fake, like a dying bird trying to flirt.

you’ve been rolling her eyes from the second she started talking, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. 

“you’re really good at this whole business thing, huh? bet you’re good at lots of things.”

you gag audibly from your spot, but of course, she doesn’t hear you. 

rafe, for his part, looks mildly amused but doesn’t say anything. still, you stay put, you’re not here to play babysitter. he’s not that stupid���he’ll shut her down. 

he better.

her next move is placing her hand on his arm. on. his. arm.

like she isn’t aware that his girlfriend is sitting fifteen feet away, the audacity. she’s batting her lashes and laughing at something he says like he’s the funniest guy alive, and you can see his shoulders stiffen, the slight step back he takes when she puts her hands on him.

“so, like,” she giggles, twirling a piece of hair around her finger, “what if i can’t, you know... pay in cash? ’m sure we could work something else out?”

rafe’s reaction is immediate, “i have a girlfriend.”

“oh,” her pout deepens. “that’s fine. she doesn’t have to know.”

at that, he laughs—an incredulous, slightly panicked laugh, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “yeah, see, that’s not gonna work for me.”

she doesn’t take the hint. 

instead, she tilts her head, giving him what you’re sure she thinks it’s a seductive look. “c'mon, rafe. it’s just a little fun, bet she wouldn’t even care.”

you freeze mid-sip of your beer, brain short-circuiting.

you slam it down on the table so hard it splashes everywhere, your vision zeroing in on her like a predator spotting prey. you’re halfway across the yard before you realize you’re moving.

oh, you care, you care a lot.

rafe’s already holding his hands up like he’s trying to ward her off. “don’t know what you think is happening here, but it’s not. i’m not interested.”

“not interested in me?” she asks, like the idea is physically painful.

“correct,” you announce loudly, “he’s not interested. crazy, right?”

she squares her shoulders and glares at you. “who are you?”

“hi, i’m the girlfriend” you shoot back, “just wondering if you’re planning on embarrassing yourself any more tonight or if that’s it?”

rafe rubs the back of his neck, looking between amused and mildly terrified, “baby—”

“don’t ‘baby’ me, cameron,” you snap, shooting him a glare before turning your attention back to the girl. she’s still standing there, trying to figure out if she should fight or flight.

smart money would’ve been on flight, but apparently, she’s the stubborn type.

she smirks, seemingly not the least bit fazed by you. “pogues share.”

“how about i share this fist with your face? that sound good to you?”

she whips around, her fake-confident expression faltering “uh, excuse me?”

“you heard me,” you only stop a foot from her. your hands are on your hips, ready to pounce if she even thinks about mouthing off one more time. “can’t you take a fucking hint, or are you just dumb?”

“i didn’t know he had a girlfriend,” she rolls her eyes.

“everyone here knows he’s with me, you just thought you’d try it anyway, didn’t you?”

“it’s not that deep,” she shrugs, her voice going fake casual. “it’s just rafe. pogues share—what’s the big deal? you’re overreacting.”

rafe winces, stepping back as if to give you space to handle it. good, he knew better than to get in your way.

“you wanna find out how much more i can react? i’m feeling real generous tonight.”

her mouth opens to say something even dumber, but you’re already pouncing , not even thinking—your body just reacts.

“whoa, whoa, whoa!” rafe’s arms are suddenly around you, yanking you before you can do any real damage “okay, we’re going home.”

“i’ll punch you too,” you hiss, squirming in his grip. “let me hit her.”

he only holds you tighter against his chest when you try to kick out at her. “baby, come on.”

“this bitch said pogues share!’” you cram your neck to glare at her over rafe’s shoulder. “i just wanna share some sense with her.”

she’s already backing away, her hands up in surrender, “okay, whatever, no dick is worth dealing with a crazy bitch. ’m leaving!” she snaps, turning on her heel.

rafe’s grip lightens up slightly, thinking this is enough to calm you down, but unfortunately for him, you take it as a chance to get what you want. as soon as he lets you lose, you take one giant step forward and grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her back just as she tries to escape.

"get your ass back here," you growl, tugging her head back.

“jesus christ,” rafe’s eyes widen and he’s there, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind once again, pulling you back. “baby, let her go!”

she lets out a surprised squeal, trying to pull away, but you’ve got a grip on her so tight she can’t. “what the hell is wrong with you?!” she screeches, hands desperately trying to pry your fingers from her hair.

“okay, you’ve made your point,” he chuckles despite the situation, “let go of her hair.”

you release her, but not without one last, satisfying shove to her back. she stumbles, glaring at you over her shoulder with her hand pressed to her scalp.

“keep your hands to yourself next time,” you warn with a sneer.

she glares at you, and opens her mouth like she’s about to start some more shit—but then she seems to think better of it. with a huff, she turns on her heel and stalks off, her footsteps retreating into the crowd.

rafe stands there, rubbing his neck nervously as he watches her go. “you’re gonna get arrested one day, y’know that, right?”

you look up at him, eyebrow raised, a smirk curling at the corner of your lips. “and you’re gonna get your balls ripped off and be single for the rest of your life. how’s that sound?”

his mouth falls open as he stares at you.

“what? i’m innocent! i didn’t do shit. you just went wwe smackdown on her. i was standing there, minding my business.”

“minding your business while she was all over you?” you challenge, “she was practically trying to crawl inside your skin.”

“told her i wasn’t interested!” he defends, throwing his hands up. “even used the line— i have a girlfriend! that’s...the ultimate force field!”

you snort, crossing your arms. “she walked right through it like it wasn’t even there.”

rafe sighs dramatically, stepping closer, his voice dropping, that little smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, “gotta admit, that was kinda hot.”

you narrow your eyes at him, trying not to let his charm sway you. “hot?”

“yeah,” he grins, “watching you go full psycho really does something for me.”

you can feel your lips twitching upward despite yourself. “you’re such a fuckin’ loser.”

“am i wrong, though?” he teases, slipping his arms around you, his lips tickling your ear as he adds, “never felt more horny—or scared—in my life.”

you huff a laugh, shoving at his chest playfully, “stop trying to make me laugh, i’m mad at you.”

“you’re mad at me?” he leans in impossibly closer, pulling you flush against him.

“rafe—” you start, but he’s already tilting his head, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck.

“mm, y’know,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin, “i like you mad. all fired up, it’s sexy.”

“don’t even,” you warn, hoping you sound firm, but it’s hard to when he’s trailing slow kisses down your neck, the press of his mouth sending shivers straight to your toes.

he doesn’t stop, of course. his kisses get sloppier, his lips parting so his tongue can flick against the sensitive spot just below your ear. 

“can’t help it,” he groans in between his work, nipping at your skin. “my girl’s too fucking hot.”

your hands come up to push at his chest, but they end up curling into his shirt instead. “i’m so fucking serious. you can’t sweet-talk your way out of this.”

“m’not sweet-talking,” he slurs, teeth grazing your skin, followed by the soothing heat of his tongue, and you gasp despite yourself. “just... appreciating you. can’t a guy admire his girlfriend after she defended his honor?” he bites down and then sucks at the spot until you’re squirming in his arms. “got me so gone for you, shit, it’s embarrassing.”

“good,” you mutter stubbornly, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair.

he practically purrs at the contact, his lips dragging down to your collarbone. “you’ve ruined me, y’know that? can’t even look at another girl.”

you laugh, your grip tightening in his hair. “keep talking, cameron. see how far that gets you.”

he grins against your skin, his teeth scraping lightly before he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. his hands slide down to your thighs, lifting you up like you weigh nothing and setting you on the edge of the picnic table.

“guess i’ll just have to show you instead.”

"rafe cameron," you start, intending to scold him, but your words stop in your throat as he steps between your legs.

“now you’re quiet,” he’s leaning in so close his nose brushes against yours. “where’d all that fire go, mm?”

your glare is half-hearted at best. “don’t push your luck, you’re still on probation, asshole.”

he hums thoughtfully, his hands sliding up your legs, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. “not luck, baby. skill.”

“you’re so fucking insufferable,” you mutter, but your hands betray you, slipping under the hem of his shirt to splay across his warm skin.

his abs tense under your touch, and you relish the reaction, how his breath hitches as you dig your nails in just a little.

“irresistible,” he counters, his voice rough. his lips hover over yours, daring you to close the gap, but he doesn’t make the first move.

he waits, his eyes locked on yours, the faintest flicker of a challenge in his pretty blue eyes. two can play that game, matter of fact, you know you’ll win.

you pull back, smirking as you trace your fingers over the waistband of his jeans, “that’s pushing it, don’t you think?”

he exhales a chuckle through his nose, his hands moving to your waist, tugging you closer. “you’re so fucking stubborn.”

“me?” you scoff, your fingers dipping beneath the fabric of his jeans, making his tighten, his smirk faltering enough to make you feel victorious.

“yeah,” he repeats, though his voice is strained now. “practically begging me to fuck you here.”

“please.” you tilt your head, your lips grazing his jaw, “you’re the one begging.”

rafe’s laugh is low and throaty, a sound that sends a thrill to your core. his control visibly slips as you trail your lips down the line of his jaw, peppering kisses that grow increasingly slower, more deliberate.

his sharp exhale and the way his grip on your hips drops for half a second tell you everything you need to know.

“you’re gonna kill me,” he mutters, his forehead dropping against your shoulder for a moment.

you grin, pleased with yourself, sliding your hands up his chest, feeling the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palms.

“don’t sound to surprised.”

he shakes his head slightly, trying to clear it, but he can’t seem to stop staring at you. “god, i hate you sometimes,” he breathes out, his lips quirking up into a smirk that betrays his words.

“funny,” you retort, fingers sliding back into his hair to tug lightly. “don’t believe you.”

his jaw tightens at the sensation, a groan slipping past his lips before he catches it.

 “you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says again, but his mouth is already back on you, a bruising kiss that steals every smart-ass remark you had locked and loaded.

your mouths move together with instinct, and when his tongue flicks against your lower lip, you don’t hesitate, opening up for him. he groans low in his throat as his tongue sweeps into your mouth, curling against yours, slick and overwhelming in the best way.

it’s messy and unrestrained, the kind of kiss that leaves you dizzy and drenched. 

rafe’s lips leave yours only for a second, his teeth tugging lightly at your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. he pulls back just enough to let it drag between his teeth, his eyes locked on yours, all dark with something feral.

you don’t let him stay in control for long, your hands tighten in his hair, tugging him back to you, and this time it’s your tongue that takes over, sliding against his in a way that has him moaning like a bitch in heat into your mouth. he sucks on it lightly, the sensation only making your panties stick harder to you, and you press closer to him, your legs tightening around his waist, looking for some kind of friction.

when he pulls back, both of you gasping for air, his lips are swollen and glistening, his eyes glazed over with that unmistakable lust.

a string of spit still connects your mouths, and you watch, entranced, as he swipes his tongue across his lips, catching it before smirking at you.

“you kiss me like that again,” he murmurs, “’m not responsible for what happens next.”

[quarterlifekitty]

I need 141 x sensitive reader (mainly simon tho hehe)

Like I was watching a horror movie and a cat literally got EATEN by this monster thing and I IMMEDIATELY STARTED SOBBING like my friend was holding me and telling me not to cry 😭😭

I’m gonna give you a little bit of Simon because I think the idea of this brick shithouse who wears a skull on his face having the worlds most sensitive crybaby gf is funny

When Simon introduces you to people, they’re a little fucking gobsmacked to be honest. You’re so sensitive, so easy to move to tears, and they wonder how the fuck Simon bagged you. He’s not known for being a gentleman.

But that’s the fucked up thing. He is. Literally only to you. Soap can ask him to get something from the other side of the room and Ghost will be like “get this you fuckin’ numpty” and smack him on the back of the head. Meanwhile Simon will do literally anything you ask without a moment’s hesitation and holds you close like the wind is gonna blow you away.

Before he introduces you to the task force he texts the group saying “no work talk. I fucking mean it.” Because he is determined that you will hear nothing about what he does at work, not even any allusions to it. Literally you cry watching Lady and the Tramp— he can’t expose you to anything from his job.

If someone says something that upsets you in his presence, he’s not going to kill them in front of you, like he wants to. He’s going to make sure you’re alright, calm you down, get you home and into bed, and then come back and kill that person. That’s how much he cares <3

[rafesangelita]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 HONEYMOON

a series by rafesangelita ©

‘honeymoon’ is a series based on the songs off of lana del rey’s ‘honeymoon’ album. all fics released in this series can be read as standalones since none of theme correlate with one another. each fic has a line from each song in which it’s titled from. read each ‘warnings’ tab accordingly <3

all rights reserved. i do not allow any of my work to be copied, translated, or reposted on any third party site such as wattpad and/or ao3. violating this will result in you being blocked and restricted from my blog, along with a plagiarism submission.

this is a reuploaded series masterlist.

₊˚⊹♡ HONEYMOON

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

SUMMARY: ❝but you don’t go cause truly there’s nobody for you but me.❞ — not only did rafe catch you in a lie, he also saw jj making moves on you, and you allowing it to happen.

₊˚⊹♡ MUSIC TO WATCH BOYS TO

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

SUMMARY: ❝i like you a lot, putting on my music while i’m watching the boys.❞ — there’s no denying the attraction you and rafe share when you two meet each other. the only problem? he does business with barry, your older brother.

₊˚⊹♡ TERRENCE LOVES YOU

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

SUMMARY: ❝i lost myself and i lost you too.❞ — after a heated exchange, you leave rafe at the height of his addiction. fast forward two years later, and you have everything rafe couldn’t give you.

₊˚⊹♡ GOD KNOWS I TRIED

WORD COUNT: 3.0k

SUMMARY: ❝i feel free when i see no one, and nobody knows my name.❞ — you and rafe sneak away from an event neither of you want to be at..

₊˚⊹♡ HIGH BY THE BEACH

WORD COUNT: 1.0k

SUMMARY: ❝all i wanna do is get high by the beach.❞ — you and rafe make a small trip to your favorite smoke spot.

₊˚⊹♡ FREAK | FREAK PT.2

WORD COUNT: 3.2k | 3.0k

SUMMARY: ❝screw your anonymity, loving me is all you need to feel like i do.❞ — rafe cameron is your top donator, having been tuning into your live streams for several months now. one night of texting and spilling too much details has you and rafe running into each other at a party.

₊˚⊹♡ ART DECO

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

SUMMARY: ❝you’re so art deco, out on the floor. shining like gun metal, cold and unsure.❞ — your attempt to cut things off with rafe only fuels him to come back with a vengeance.

₊˚⊹♡ RELIGION

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SUMMARY: ❝when i’m down on my knees, you’re how i pray.❞ — you show rafe how much you appreciate all the hard work he’s been doing.

₊˚⊹♡ SALVATORE

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

SUMMARY: ❝the summer’s hot, and i’ve been waiting for you all this time.❞ — rafe finally comes back home from his two-month long family vacation, surprising you in the middle of the night.

₊˚⊹♡ THE BLACKEST DAY

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

SUMMARY: ❝i got you where i want you, you’re deader than ever, and falling for forever.❞ — a deal gone wrong leads to you and rafe being stuck in the same room together.

₊˚⊹♡ 24

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

SUMMARY: ❝there’s only 24 hours in a day, and half of those you lay awake with thoughts of murder and carnage.❞ — when you accidentally witness rafe commit a murder, he’s willing to do everything he has to do in order to make sure there’s no loose ends. even if that means tracking you down and killing you himself.

[mel4rock]

"They don't love you, you are just normal." The tallest of the group spoke. It was obvious that they anted to breake you to take you over on their side afterwards especially since you heard them talk about it earlier when they still thought you where unconscious.

"Are you kidding me? I'm literally their favorite child." You respond "Do you even know how many school calls they got because Lora accidentally put something on fire or because Matt broke something? Don't get me started on Emma. They love me for being normal.

Belive me, mom thought about retireing just so she could attend all these conferences. Also I'm the only one my siblings trust and who can give them commands. I'm the one staying behind organizing every fight my family has with every villain.

To the public I am the calm one that never gets into trouble but belive me without me my siblings will be uncontrollable."

Your voice gets calmer the longer you talk but the guys in front of you don't seen to belive you. They are five, you are alone that could become a problem if you would try to flee. The room has two doors but only in front of one is a smaler but burly guy in position. You can't see any windows and you doubt that the unprotected door will lead anywhere else than a dead end.

The cuffs that tie you to the chair are easy to open, just because you are normal doesn't mean your parents didn't train you well. Actually -you think waiting for the right time to attack - it's weird that you only got kidnapped now like it's literally the first thing you would come up with as a villain, but hey, who are you to complain?

One of them excused himself to go to the toilet and you used the moment when it was only four against one to attack. More accurate you start running for the door. Confused as they were you actually reached the door 'till one of them reacted and grabbed your arm.

"What do you think you are doing there young lady?" Asked the tall one who already spoke to her.

"The chair is really uncomfortable so I thought I would disstretch a bit." All of them look at you confused and probably muffled by the comlete nonsense comming out of your mouth. You are as well. You take a step away from the door joust a second before it flies out of their angles. Lora Matt and Emma sorming the room. "Ohh," you say, "I wanted to say distract you, that's what I was doing." You kick ta.. guy in the stomach so he would back off and it worked.

Your siblings totally knocked out all of the men in no time. "Mom says you can't skip family day that easily." Matt said it in a tone that makes you smile.

"Wouldn't dare to." On your way out you see lots of other guys lying around every single one of them knocked out some of them having bruises or burns and some siluettes seem a bit off like something elementary messed with their bodies. Damn are you happy to be one of the good ones.

You, a normal human, were born to a family of famous superheroes. You’ve been kidnapped by a supervillain, who keeps trying to convince you that your family doesn’t love you because of your ‘condition’.

[rinachains]

"Mhm, should I shave?"

Toji's question makes you look up from your phone, only to be greeted by the sight of him staring into the mirror, rubbing his hand along the lower part of his face, turning it from side to side.

You level him with a deadpan face.

"You ask this now? After I've already complained to you several times in the past weeks?"

Toji being lazy is nothing new, and while he does take good care of himself (most of the time), there are certain things he tends to put off - things like shaving. Selectively lazy, you called him once, and he just shrugged.

Over the course of a few weeks, he has grown a stubble, and while you don't actually mind the look - in fact, you find that he looks a little too good with it -, it scratches your skin whenever he kisses you, whether it is on your face or on other parts of your body.

Ignoring your remark, he makes his way to the couch you’re lying on, leans over the headrest and throws an arm around your shoulders, his lips coming close to your face; but before they can make contact with you, you put a hand against his face and push him away.

"Nope. You're shaving first."

Your partner exhales unnecessarily loudly and grabs your wrist to remove your hand from his face. He clicks his tongue as he throws his head back into his neck.

"Too tired."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah,” he replies, lazily scratching the subject of your disdain.

You cross your arms over your chest, purse your lips, and narrow your eyes. You set your phone aside as an idea pops into your head.

"Then I'll do it."

And that's how you end up in your shared bathroom, with him sitting down on a small stool – which makes for a ridiculous picture since his bulky frame can barely fit on it and you're afraid it's about to break under his weight - while you stand in front of him, applying some shaving cream to his stubble.

Toji is wearing a loose tank top that shows off the bulging muscles in his big arms and his defined pecs, and a pair of gray sweatpants - a supposedly thoughtless combination that he pulled out of his closet, but he is more than aware of the effect this look has on you.

You stifle a snort as you notice him subtly flexing his muscles, obviously enticing you to admire them.

You instruct him to stay still as you hold a sharp tool against his face - but as predicted, the insufferably touchy man grabs at your waist, massages your thighs, playfully pinches your sides - the asshole that he is, he wants to see you squirm and hear you yelp.

"I'm gonna accidentally cut you if you don't keep your hands to yourself," you grumble, trying to slap his hands away and rolling your eyes when they don't bulge from where they rest. "Seriously. Control yourself."

"Can you blame me?" Toji counters, his grin all smug and mischief glinting in his forest green eyes as he cocks his head, "I like it when you take care of me."

As if to further prove that statement, his arms wrap around the back of your knees, holding onto them in a stone grip. Your mouth falls open to scold him again, but the warmth of his touch makes you close it and go soft. Bastard.

“Y’know, you're not bad at this," he chimes in, raising a brow at you, "you've done this for other men before?"

"Oh yeah, just last week for boyfriend number two."

Toji grunts, mouth pressed into a flat frown.

"Not funny."

"You're the one who asked a stupid question," you sing, nodding in his direction. "Besides, I should ask if I'm the first one to do this for you."

"You are,” he immediately replies, "wouldn't let anyone else get that close to my face with that thing."

You hum, "So you trust me. How sweet."

He grunts, again. You're pretty close to making fun of his dad noises.

"Do you actually not like my stubble?"

"It tickles and burns when you kiss me."

"You'd get over it."

"I'll stop kissing you if you keep it."

"…You don't mean that."

"You know I do."

Once he missed picking up Megumi from daycare because he fell asleep in front of the TV; so you, as petty as you are, decided to deprive him of all hugs and kisses, and walked away the moment he approached you, tried to reach out and pull you into the confines of his strong arms. You managed to last a week before your resolve crumbled. You blame the fact that you were ovulating during that week and the dejected looks he kept giving you.

Averting his eyes to the side, he gestures to you with a wave, "Aren't y'supposed to love me the way I am?"

"Sure, but my love grows even stronger when I can kiss you without any damage."

“So I’m harming you with that? Way to make me feel bad, I liked the look.”

"Grown man," you mumble under your breath, moving his head to the other side with a bit more force than probably needed - but still careful, of course. "Be glad that I'm doing this for you. Otherwise, you'd probably walk around with a full beard."

At that he squints his eyes.

"What's wrong with that?"

"You'd look too much like a man."

His nose scrunches up, the corners of his mouth drop down - that's his grumpy face.

"What's that supposed to mean? I am a man."

"Yeah, my handsome, pretty man who doesn't have a beard that will give me a bad rash.”

A huff leaves him, only emphasizing his grumbling.

"...Whatever."

His head tilts, allowing you to carefully run the razor across the lower part of his face and the underside of his chiselled jaw. He leans into your touch, letting himself be vulnerable despite the supposed simplicity of the task.

You know what it means to be able to do that to him. It's not as insignificant as it might seem at first.

A few seconds of silence go by, but then, "Can I kiss you now?”

So needy.

When you first started seeing each other, Toji was all cocky and nonchalant, but when you finally got together, he started clinging to you, following you around like a lost puppy who refuses to let you out of his sight. It's endearing, you suppose - especially since you (and everyone else) didn't expect him to act this way.

"I'm not done yet."

All of a sudden he leans back to free himself from your grasp and get out of your reach, now holding both your wrists in his calloused palms as he stares directly into your eyes, forcing you into a silent debate. Finally, you let out a tired sigh, though you can't stop a grin from tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Okay, just one quick ki-"

Before you can finish your sentence, the plush of his lips meets yours and you melt into each other, not even noticing the shaving cream on his face transfer to yours. Instead of pushing him away this time, you instinctively deepen the kiss and wrap your arms around his neck, letting him nibble on your lower lip until he slowly pulls away.

His mouth twitches as he opens his eyes and zeroes in on a certain spot. A finger comes up to your face, wipes something away, and then shows the shaving cream on it that came from your face.

"Want me to shave your stubble too?"

The slap you give his broad shoulder doesn't move him a millimeter, but it makes him shake with laughter.

"Shut up."

[logoleptic-since-06]

Every Corner of This House is Haunted

Pairing: Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader Content: Fem!Reader, Marriage in Crisis, Angst, Reader and Nanami are in their 30s, Not Proofread

Chapter I ■ Chapter II ■ Chapter III

“I want a divorce.”

The silence after you utter those words pierces through your mind, making you second guess your comment. You don’t want to repeat them, afraid the next time you say the words, you won’t even mean it. Kento simply continues driving, pretending like you never spoke. Anxiety blooms in your chest, so tightening you almost feel as though you can’t breathe.

Once you reach your apartment building and get on the elevator, you give into your nerves.

“Kento,” you call.

He looks up from his phone. “Hm?”

You push back the tears that are so desperate to come out of your eyes. “You heard me.” Your voice is barely a whisper. The elevator rings and he steps out into your penthouse. 

“Kento!” you finally shout.

He turns around with a stern expression masking his face. “What?”

“Please.”

“You’re being ridiculous. There’s no need for you to say something like that.”

Letting out an exasperated scoff, you hear your voice break as you speak. “You cannot possibly be saying that, Kento, when you damn fucking well know we haven’t even talked in ages.”

“Yes, we have,” he claims calmly.

“No, Kento, we haven’t. And see this is the issue– you don’t even realise we may be drifting apart.”

“We aren’t drifting apart.”

“Stop invalidating me like that!” you snap. “You think you’re so mature and you know every fucking thing when in reality you’ve grown emotionally unavailable. You only talk about work, we never go out on dates, and when was the last time you kissed me Kento?”

His demeanour shifts slightly, which makes you wonder if he realises his faults.

“We are both busy, my love.”

“Too busy to even see each other?”

He sighs. “You’re right. I have been neglecting you.” He comes forwards and touches your arms. “How about you give me a chance? Let me take you out on a date tomorrow.”

You look into his eyes, the same ones you fell in love with so many years ago, the ones that feel like an ocean you can happily drown in. He pulls you into a hug and you melt, his arms both your greatest kryptonite and strongest warrior. How could you ever leave him?

“I’m sorry, my love,” he says, his voice as soft as ever. “I’ll make it right, I promise. Be ready at 7pm tomorrow, okay?”

–

The next day rolls in in a matter of moments. As Kento sits behind his desk at his office with his thoughts laminated with guilt, his mind replays the moments you said you wanted a divorce. He had felt his life flash before his eyes, like someone ripped his heart apart from his ribcage. Had he been so blinded by ambition and competence that he forgot to consider the feelings of the reason he breathes?

“Sir?” the voice of his assistant breaks him away from his thoughts.

“Yes?”

“The clients are here, the meeting can start now.”

–

Hours pass in the meeting, but eventually, the deal is finalized. Kento returns to his cabin and relaxes into his chair, satisfied with himself. Stretching out his arms, he finally peeks into his phone that seems to be flooded with notifications from you. Why would you send him so many–

Oh.

Fuck.

He checks the time. It’s 9:42 PM. The meeting had taken longer than it should have. But worst of all, he had forgotten about the plans with you. With shaking hands, he sprints out of his office, maniacally driving to your place.

He stumbles out of the elevator. “Y/N,” he calls out. “I’m so sorry for being late, my love, I was occupied with very important clients.” He goes up to your bedroom and opens the door, expecting to find you there.

“Y/N?” he calls out again when he doesn’t. His heart almost leaps out of his chest as he hysterically moves around the house, shouting out your name and calling your phone. All to only be responded with nothing. 

You were gone.

A/N: Sorry, I was feeling a little silly. ����

[daechwitatamic]

What are the Vibes? || CSC

(banner and title by @sailorrhansol lol thanks bestie)

What are the Vibes? Seungcheol x afab!reader || pwp || established relationship kind of implied NSFW - minors DNI

wc: 1.2k warnings: language, kissing, fingering (f. receiving), vibrator use (f. receiving), piv sex, bossy seungcheol makes a frustrating rule in bed but it's all in fun

summary: Seungcheol always gives you what you need. Today, he's gonna make you ask for it first.

author's note: once every two years i blink and a pwp appears. this one is a gift to hali, who writes what i ask for every time and deserves to receive nice things too <3 the babygirl is just for you, babygirl. ily and thank you for typo check!!!! <3

Straight into smut, so putting the whole thing below a read more!

When Seungcheol presses your favorite purple vibrator against your already nearly-shaky fingers, your intuition sparks, warning you that you’re in for it. Maybe it isn’t intuition. Maybe you just know him - know what kind of mood he’s in from the set of his jaw and the flash in his eyes.

You’re already one round in; he’s already made you come on his fingers once and then again on his cock, your ankles on his shoulders. You were ready for him to come deep inside you, leaning over you far enough to make your hamstrings sting with the stretch, but he’d backed away, slipped out of you, left you whining and empty.

“You do it,” he tells you, as your fingers close around the silicone. “Give yourself one for me.”

He stretched out next to you, stroking himself lazily, like it didn’t bother him at all to stop in the middle. You’re caught for a second on all his rounded places - the swell of his shoulder, his biceps flexing as he works his cock slowly, the rise of his cheek with that smirk that means trouble, the ass that could launch a thousand ships.

“Go on,” he tells you, and you take a shuddering breath as your thumb finds the familiar button by muscle memory. The first setting barely registers - you’re already overstimulated and it just feels like the physical representation of noise when you’re going to need a melody if you’re going to come like this. But when you dip the fingers of your spare hand towards your opening, already sore in the best way and still messy and slick from earlier, Seungcheol’s hand whips out and grabs your wrist lightning-quick.

“Nope,” he murmurs darkly, rolling so he’s halfway over you. He releases your wrist and uses his new proximity to kiss you sweetly, lingering lovingly, at odds with his entire demeanor. When his lips leave yours, he whispers, “Outside only. Inside is mine.”

You let out a huff - part frustration, part amusement. But Seungcheol doesn’t often play games like this with you, and it’s thrilling in its novelty. You obey, sliding the toy closer to your clit, trying to work yourself back up slowly. Satisfied and trusting you to follow his rules - whims, really - Seungcheol moves back to his spot next to you, eyes combing over your prone body.

You try all your normal tricks, but long minutes pass and while it feels good you can tell it’s not climbing - the pleasure isn’t tightening or spooling or triggering that snap that you always know is a warning sign. You huff again, this time all frustration. It isn’t going to happen - not with only external stimulation.

“What is it?” Seungcheol asks, low, and there’s something teasing in it. It’s like he expected this, and now he’s pleased to be right.

“I can’t,” you complain. “I need…” You trail off, shy, even after all this time.

He knows what you need. He’s going to make you say it anyway. He waits you out, like a saint with all the patience in the world.

“Need you,” you try pitifully, hoping he’ll let you get away with it.

“I’m here,” he says innocently, and you make a noise of complaint, nudging at his shins with your toes in protest. His smile grows; he’s enjoying teasing you.

“You know what I mean,” you protest. The toy buzzes valiantly in your hand, but you’re barely even pressing it against yourself anymore - it isn’t doing much for you at this point. Your body knows what it wants. Nothing but Seungcheol will do.

“I guess if you want something, you’ll have to ask for it,” he pretends to muse, trying to fight off a satisfied smile.

You whine wordlessly, frustrated. “Seungcheol,” you scold.

His smile only grows, dimples deepening. “What do you need, babygirl?”

You want to stomp your feet and bang your fists in protest. “I need you, please, this isn’t enough - I’m not gonna -”

“What do you need?” he asks again. You nearly sob with frustration; it’s clear he won’t be giving you anything unless you ask.

Frustration and desperation dance together behind your ribs, and you hear yourself beg, “Anything, Cheol, even a finger, please - just something, I need you.”

This must be the magic phrase that Seungcheol needed to hear today, I need you, because his smile splits across his face. “Just a finger?” he teases, but he’s circling the tip of his pointer around your spasming hole and it’s already six billion times better than it was a second ago, your body responding with a hearty clench and a new rush of fluid. “That’s all you want? Are you sure?”

“I mean,” you gulp, trying to breathe at your body chases that tantalizing fingertip, hips canting like you might catch him off-guard and slip him inside, “That’s not all I want, but if that’s all you want to give me right now, then I’ll take it.”

He coos annoyingly, but rolls closer, pushing that single digit into your heat. It’s barely anything but your eyes nearly roll back just from sheer relief - this is what your body wanted, this is what it will take to push you over the edge.

“That’s not all I want to give you,” he promises, barely louder than a whisper, and then adds a second finger, wasting no time in curling them into that spot on your front wall that he knows so well.

It takes only seconds for your body to respond, clamping down on his fingers, the muddled buzzing from the vibrator suddenly coming into perfect focus - sharp and targeted. You hear yourself wail, but the room’s gone fuzzy as his fingers piston into the spot that keeps your muscles clenched for so long that you think you sail right past a first orgasm straight into a second one. You click off the vibrator and toss it to the side, reveling in the feel of his fingers stroking along your sensitive walls, pushing lightly against that spot that makes your toes curl.

Seungcheol whispers praises into your ear, fingers finally slowing, ending with a nearly-awed, “You just got so wet.”

You can feel it, inside and out, but the orgasm has chased away any shyness and now you can finally say what you mean:

“Hurry up,” you tell him, tugging at his arms to get him in motion faster. “Get up here and fuck me.”

He lets out a sound that’s partly a laugh and partly disbelief, but he doesn’t hesitate at all before rolling over top of you and pressing his tip against your entrance, pushing to the hilt slowly but without pause. When he bottoms out, a soft sound of satisfaction rumbling from his chest, you clutch at him, holding tight to his shoulders, wanting to keep him here - right where you wanted him all along.

He nips at your jaw playfully before pulling nearly all the way out, then sheathing himself smoothly once again.

“Yes, please, just like that,” you breathe, eyes fluttering closed.

He gives you a devilish smile and repeats the motion. “All you had to do was ask,” he says with a grin.

--

thank you for reading!!

[ineffectualdemon]

Along these lines when it comes to recognising why you might lose control

So I'm physically disabled and I need help getting my dinner. My husband, my teenager, and I were all eating different things for reasons today

My teenagers food cooked at the same temp as mine so they offered to make both our dinners at the same time

And initially I was going to be fine with it. They have made dinner before and it's gone great

But. Its been a day where I have been extremely On Edge multiple times already

So I ended up saying quite soon "I'm not comfortable with you making my food. I think I should ask Dad to do it. Not because you would do it badly but if something went wrong I don't want to flip out and a be an asshole at you"

And they understood and when their food was in the oven (my husband did mine a bit later) I explained in my depth

Because it's not that I wouldn't have a poor emotional reaction to my husband but it would be less intense and less explosive because we both have experience with that happening and I know how to channel my emotions so it hits him less and he knows he doesn't need to take it personally.

It's also less likely for something to go wrong because of his experience

I also have very particular ways I like my food to be served at home that I didn't have the ability to explain to the teenager in that moment and my husband already knew my oddities in how I feel my food touching and can easily accommodate

And I had been too on edge for too long and was teetering on a meltdown and something going wrong was not going to end well even though it wouldn't have been my teenager's fault

I knew I couldn't hold myself into being fair if that happened so I said something

And a few little things did go wrong for Teenager as they made their food because they were also on edge and nearing a meltdown and afterwards they told me I made a good call

But there have been a few times I have considered pushing myself or accepting some help that was not a going to actually be good for my emotional stability and I stopped, took internal stock, and said "I can't maintain control of my emotions if we do that"

And people have been surprised but they were accomodating and considerate when I said and we reached another solution

Sometimes processing your emotions can mean identifying a trigger and backing away and that's okay! That's much better then turning into a giant asshole!

I’m about to save you thousands of dollars in therapy by teaching you what I learned paying thousands of dollars for therapy:

It may sound woo woo but it’s an important skill capitalism and hyper individualism have robbed us of as human beings.

Learn to process your emotions. It will improve your mental health and quality of life. Emotions serve a biological purpose, they aren’t just things that happen for no reason.

1. Pause and notice you’re having a big feeling or reaching for a distraction to maybe avoid a feeling. Notice what triggered the feeling or need for a distraction without judgement. Just note that it’s there. Don’t label it as good or bad.

2. Find it in your body. Where do you feel it? Your chest? Your head? Your stomach? Does it feel like a weight everywhere? Does it feel like you’re vibrating? Does it feel like you’re numb all over?

3. Name the feeling. Look up an emotion chart if you need to. Find the feeling that resonates the most with what you’re feeling. Is it disappointment? Heartbreak? Anxiety? Anger? Humiliation?

4. Validate the feeling. Sometimes feelings misfire or are disproportionately big, but they’re still valid. You don’t have to justify what you’re feeling, it’s just valid. Tell yourself “yeah it makes sense that you feel that right now.” Or something as simple as “I hear you.” For example: If I get really big feelings of humiliation when I lose at a game of chess, the feeling may not be necessary, but it is valid and makes sense if I grew up with parents who berated me every time I did something wrong. So I could say “Yeah I understand why we are feeling that way given how we were treated growing up. That’s valid.”

5. Do something with your body that’s not a mental distraction from the feeling. Something where you can still think. Go on a walk. Do something with your hands like art or crochet or baking. Journal. Clean a room. Figure out what works best for you.

6. Repeat, it takes practice but is a skill you can learn :)

[gamblersdoll]

OVERSTIMULATION WITH BAKUGOU PLSPLSPLSPLS ILY

overstimulation was a death wish from katsuki— he always knowing how to press your buttons and how, especially when it finally came down to when you finally start having sex.

the second time you laid down with him, his lips kissing all over your body and having you wrapped up along with a blindfold he planned for this. he planned for some of your sensory inputs to be restrained, restricting you of that and seeing how well youd hold up. “you doin’ okay down there?” you nodded, feeling his fingers lightly trace around your perked nipples and he chuckles. “thats good, you feel that?” he asks more questions, but a thumb being pressed against your clit.

you nod again, a soft, ghostly moan bubbling and you try to squirm. but with a stern ‘dont you go anywhere,’ your body immediately gave out.

“yer’ gonna feel so good, mama.” he says, his middle and ring slowly but steadily slipping inside past your walls. “youve gotten so wet.” he praises, him leaning down and leaving a trail of kisses on your trembling stomach. your skin gives goosebumps, hairs raising and he licks your light happy trail. “pretty little thing..”

“katsuki..” you moan, his fingers moving at a slow pace— until your met with the most quiet but strong vibrator, right onto your bundle of nerves. “baku— fuck!”

“there it is, knew you get so tight with it on.” he chortles, keeping his pace with his fingers. the faux tongue of the vibe softly thrashes at your clit, having your body convulse. “yer gonna be so mad after this, pretty mama.” he snickers, leaving the original toy on your clit.

its only hard because you cannot see, and cannot feel for something to hold onto.

“you doin’ okay, baby?” he asks, you question if hes mocking you. how could you be fucking okay? you have his thick fingers in your cunny and having a fake tongue vibrate against your clit. “talk to me, how you feelin’?”

“k—“ you stutter, but thats all you can get out.

“mmhh..” he clicks his tongue, it sounds like he’s everywhere. he blows softly on your lips, letting you know he was definitely watching over you. “right here, baby. yer doin so good for this.” he kisses your nose, forehead and cheek. “just a little bit more, and we’ll make you come and we’ll be all done.” a little bit more meant adding a rose to your nipples, having a sucker on them to stimulate. when in reality he couldve been the one sucking your nipples, but he chose this.

you jolt, toes curling and feeling his breath inside your thighs. “down here, baby.” he calls to you, sucking dark hickeys on your thighs and groaning when you slowly start to convulse on his fingers. “thats it, thats my girl!” he exclaims, a excited smirk with his fang out and he curls his fingers. “be good, get that reward!”

your eyes roll back behind the blindfold, back arching and popping from the slightest strain when your core starts to snap all around his fingers. you start to thrash a bit, the vibrations still on every inch of your nerves. “pleaseplease—“

“hm? tell me what you need, mama.” he leans back up, you choking on your words and he snickers. “oh.. you mean the toys? like this one?” he asks, pressing the toy on your clit down a little more. thighs quivering, he chuckles and pulls it away from you— along with the toys on your breasts. “oh, you poor thing.” he coos, kissing your sternum and your groin. “thats all, you did so good.”

you hiccup, breathing in air finally. “katsuki.. youre a dick.”

he raises an eyebrow, holding your wrists still and pressing the shaking toy back onto your clit. “ ‘msorry, didnt quite catch that, you wanna try that shit again?” he reminds you that you were to his mercy, and his alone.

[myth1cs]

Thanksgiving (Kim Minju x M!Reader)

This wasn't posted on Thanksgiving sorry! Feel free to still request things though In case you haven't figured it out this is smut. Word Count: 2,351

You were walking down the street with your best friend Minju. It was time for your Thanksgiving break and you both wanted to use that time to relax yourselves.

"Y/N it's crazy to think this is our last school year before we all go out separate ways into the real world. It feels like it was just yesterday that we started our freshman year of college."

"I know Minju. Does that mean I won't ever see you or the friend group anymore after graduation?"

"Yah! You won't be able to get rid of me Y/N! Your going to be stuck with me whether you like it or not."

You both started giggling after Minju made that comment. But you both knew deep down that you were right. You and Minju were in completely different majors. Neither of you would likely see each other again unless the friend group hosted a get together. But since you all would be busy with your own personal lives. Well ... it was very unlikely.

"Y/N do want to host a Thanksgiving celebration with the whole friend group?"

You were a bit surprised by Minju's request. Celebrating Thanksgiving wasn't something that was usually celebrated in your friend group. Since you all lived in your dorms and your family was a state away then you just never bothered. Not like Thanksgiving break was that long to begin with.

"A bit cheesy don't you think?"

"Well yeah but if this is our last year together than we should make as many sacred moments as we can before we all split up for a long while."

The idea was a bit silly to you. But something about Minju made you want to say yes. You sighed, you couldn't reject her idea now could you?

"You know what Minju? Sure why not. We could have a fun time."

Minju's eyes lit up when you agreed to her idea. She grabbed your hand and led you to the grocery store to buy food.

"Thank you Y/N! Now let's get the supplies we need. Let's make this the best Thanksgiving ever!"

Even though you felt Minju had the personality you could swear you hated and never wanted to be around. She was different to you. You just wanted to stay by her side for whatever idea she had.

As you both were shopping for ingredients you noticed how Minju was glowing. Her smile and the way she always held your shoulder for reassurance was something that made your heart beat faster.

"Y/N should we add some food from other cultures?"

"It could be fun to try."

"Well what are you thinking Y/N?"

"Let's see if we can get any Mexican food."

"Hm ... well Tamales could be nice."

You nodded and continued shopping for ingredients. Every now and then Minju would slightly push her chest onto you. It was very brief but it was enough to bother you slightly.

After all the shopping was done you both started to walk back to your apartment you shared with Minju. You opened the door and both of you went in and dropped the bags of groceries.

"Go ahead and call everyone to come here at 7. I'll start making the food."

"At 7?! Minju that means we only have a few hours to get everything ready. Its going to take a long time and that's not even including setting up the apartment!"

"Since when has that stopped you? The Y/N I know wouldn't give up before trying."

"I didn't say that! Tsk fine I'll do it." Regardless of how set you were on something if Minju wanted you to do it then you'd do it.

After making the call you started to help Minju with the cooking. You weren't the best at cooking but you still managed to find ways to help Minju.

"Y/N your making the Tamales wrong!"

"It's not my fault the tutorial is complicated!"

Minju sighed and made her way over to you. She put her hand on yours and started helping you. You were a bit surprised when she put her hands over yours.

"She's just my friend." You thought to yourself. You've always been roommates with Minju since freshman year of college. She would always be friendly towards you and was very touchy with you. Naturally you started to catch feelings but you never wanted to admit it.

-

After a few hours everything was finished. Minju was finishing setting everything up and you were finishing the decorations.

Suddenly you both heard knocking on the front door. "Come in!" Minju yelled. All of your friends started to come in your apartment.

Everyone came in and took a seat at the table. You all started eating the food that Minju made for everyone.

"Wow Minju this is really good." Sullyoon said while grabbing another plate of food.

"Hey I did some of the work to you know."

"Yeah sure Y/N. If you did anything it was handing Minju all the ingredients. We all know that if you cooked anything it would burn your apartment down."

"Guys calm down. Its Thanksgiving break let's not spend it fighting."

The rest of the afternoon went smoothly. Everyone spent it hanging out doing many activities to enjoy yourselves. From playing darts to doing a 6 player game on Jackbox you did everything a broke college student would do for fun on their break.

"It's almost midnight. It's time for the hangout to end." Minju said after finishing a game of Mario Party.

"Man it feels like we just started!" Jeong-in (I.N) said. But Minju was right it was time for everyone to leave.

When everyone left you started to help Minju with the cleaning. You washed the plates while Minju was cleaning the table.

"Did you have fun today Y/N?"

"I did Minju. Honestly it was more fun than I thought it would be originally."

"See Y/N I told you having a Thanksgiving hangout would be a good idea." You laughed at her. She was write you did enjoy yourselves and you were glad she talked you into agreeing to do it.

Once everything was cleaned you took a shower and started getting ready for bed. As you were getting dressed you heard the shower turn on. It was probably Minju taking a shower.

You got dressed and got into bed trying to go to sleep. Before you could you heard soft knocks on your door.

Getting up you made your way to the door and opened it to see Minju in a towel, she was still wet.

"What's wrong Minju?"

"Can I come in Y/N?"

A little hesitant to let Minju in your room while she still wasn't dressed you still let her in. She made her way to your bed and sat on the edge. You sat down next to her.

"Y/N I just wanted to say that you never said what you were thankful for." Suddenly you remembered what happened at the dinner table earlier.

Minju asked everyone what they were thankful for and when it came to you you didn't answer. "I don't know." is what you said.

"Well you didn't say what you were thankful for either Minju."

"If I say what I'm thankful for will you tell me what your thankful for Y/N?" Minju asked. You nodded and Minju started to scoot closer to you.

"I'm thankful for you Y/N." Minju took off her towel exposing her naked body being lit by the moonlight coming in from the window. "Thank you for being my friend Y/N." She wrapped her arms around you.

Her arms soaked your clothes. She put her lips on your neck and started to suck harshly. "Ah~ Ah~ Minju!" Unable to form words you were trapped under the magic of her lips.

Leaving marks all over your neck she continued leaving mark after mark on you. Minju went up to your ear licking your earlobe. Her tongue went all over your ear making it wet. "Y/N let me get a taste of you." She said as she started to move towards your clothed crotch.

"Wh-whats up with the sudden affection." are the only words you were able to get out of your mouth. Even though her heard your question Minju didn't answer you. She started to gently rub your clothed cock.

It was getting hard. Your cock was growing and you really wanted her to get on with it. "Please take my cock." is what you told her.

"Maybe you'll answer my question now. What are you thankful for Y/N? I won't ask again." She had a big grin on her face. Knowing exactly what you wanted. But what's the fun in "Getting to the point?"

"You Minju. I'm so thankful that you're my friend."

"Is that so Y/N? What exactly do you like about me?"

"Fuck if your going to be one of those people that fish for compliments then-"

"I was only kidding Y/N. Now pull down those pants for me."

You pulled off your pants quickly leaving your cock exposed to the cold air. Suddenly Minju pushed you down on the bed. She was over you putting her hands on both sides of your head. Now being trapped under her you could only wait.

She leaned down kissing your nose and then went down leaving trails of kisses until eventually getting to your lips. She licked your lips before putting her lips on yours. Starting off slow you both kissed each other softly.

Getting a little needy you started to go a little rougher. But you suddenly felt a light smack on your thighs. "I'm the one calling the shots not you. Don't make me repeat myself." You simply nodded to confirm that you heard her.

Minju lifted your shirt and started to draw small circles on your stomach with her finger. She laid her body on yours still slightly wet from her shower making your body wet. Pulling you closer your body was as close as could be with her.

Eventually she pulled out in order to catch her breath. "Nice job Y/N you really do know how to show your appreciation to a friend."

"Minju should we even call ourselves friends? Is this what friends do?"

"Of course Y/N. Friends show their appreciation to each other by sleeping with each other. Now show me how much you appreciate me." You didn't need to be told twice.

Grabbing her soft breasts you softly pinched one of her nipples and licked the other one. Her breasts were soft and squishy. "Mhmm Ahh Y/N go a little rougher!" of course you listened to her. Biting a little rougher and squeezing her breasts harder Minju moaned uncontrollably.

Not missing an opportunity you put your lips on hers and let her moan into your mouth. Minju now having one breast without attention she started to play with it on her own.

You were getting a little daring and were sliding your tongue into hers. Rubbing each other's tongue together both of you felt the others warmth.

Though now your cock was getting really cold. Preferably you wanted something to warm it up. "Minju it's cold down there." Pulling away she giggled at your comment.

"Want me to do something about it?" You nodded at her question.

Minju turned her body around her ass now on your face and her face was now facing your extremely cold cock.

She started to lick it. Running her tongue throughout your whole cock. But it wasn't enough to warm it and she knew it. Minju opened her mouth more and took your tip in her warm moist mouth.

Minju started to suck your tip and run her tongue all over it. You started to put your hands all over her butt and insert your tongue into her pussy. Taking in her sweet nectar as fluids slowly were coming out of her pussy. You took in every drop as soon as it flowed out.

Wanting to encourage Minju you shoved your tongue deeper making her moan louder and take in more of your cock. She was bobbing her head up and down your cock was alternating between being in her warm mouth and being in the cold air. All of it made you want to unload your semen into her.

"I'm cumming!"

Thrusting your cock as deep as possible into her mouth you let your cum spill into Minju's mouth. She tried to take in all of it but some leaked out of her mouth.

Swallowing what she could Minju licked your cock a few more times.

"Your semen tastes really good Y/N I want it in me."

Both of you got into position and you slowly entered Minju's tight pussy. "More Y/N I need your entire cock inside of me." You shoved your cock deeper into her pussy making Minju roll her eyes back. "Yes just like that. Your cock is so good." Hearing those words really turned you on and you were thrusting in and out fast.

You were still sensitive from your first orgasm and it didn't take long for you to almost cum. Not wanting to cum in her you pulled out. "In my mouth quickly Y/N."

Minju was sucking your cock as fast as possible and fingered herself at the same time. "Your so good at this keep sucking my cock!"

She came all over her fingers first and shortly after you unloaded your semen into her mouth for the second time. "I'll never have enough of this Y/N you must feed me every day."

"I don't think I can survive having amazing sex with you every day Minju."

You laid down next to Minju now exhausted. "If you want to stay as my friend Y/N you have to cum in my mouth every day from now on."

"Fine then, that's what friends are for right Minju?"

Both of you pulled each other close and drifted off to sleep.

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

Thanks to whoever asked this (I forgot) this was fun to write.

I'll try to get back on schedule.

[aewon]

ENHYPEN WHEN YOU... put lipgloss on them!

pairing: enha x fmr genre: fluff warnings: kissing, pet names

LEE HEESEUNG

heeseung is chilling on the couch when you approach him. he doesn’t even glance at you when you sit next to him. only when you start applying the lipgloss does he finally give you his attention.

"what are you doing"

"putting lipgloss on you, duh."

"why?"

"cause i wanna."

he doesn't say another word, letting you put it on. once you're finished, you admire you work. "now you look so pretty!" he mock pouts at you, "aren't i already pretty?"

"the prettiest, but now you're even prettier."

he leans in to kiss you but you pull away, "you're gonna smudge it!"

"don't care."

PARK JONGSEONG

you and jay are getting ready to go out. you've just finished applying your lipgloss when you decide he's gonna wear it too. you turn to face him, and without warning, start putting the lipgloss on him.

he backs away immediately, "i'm not wearing that."

you begin to whine, pouting as he shakes his head. "whine all you want, i'm not wearing it."

you decide to come up with another plan. you apply extra lipgloss on your own lips while he's checking himself out in the mirror. when he turns, you kiss him. he jerks in surprise but welcomes it nonetheless.

when you pull away, he's smiling, as are you because he now has a somewhat even layer of lipgloss on his lips. when his friends ask him later on why he's wearing lipgloss, the only thing he can do is find your eyes and glare as you giggle.

SIM JAEYUN

jaeyun is wrapped around your pretty little finger, you knew it the second you met, as did he. this means he lets you do whatever you want. when you approach him with the lipgloss, he doesn't even hesitate, puckering his lips to let you apply it.

when you're done, you take a selfie together, wasting no time in posting it online.

as he looks at it, he smiles.

"i look pretty," he says.

"you do, always."

"not as pretty as you though!"

"if you say so yunnie."

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon is napping on the couch when you decide to play the joke on him.

without moving too much, you quietly apply the lipgloss, trying not to add too much pressure. miraculously, 5 minutes later, he awakens.

"hey baby," you say, trying not to laugh.

he hums in acknowledgement, sitting up to stretch. you pull out your phone, starting video recording. "my baby just woke up, look how pretty he looks," you say to the camera as you pan it to sunghoon.

he tries to hide his face but you don't let him. you softly grab his jaw, turning his face so he's facing the camera. he looks at himself in the camera lens before his face contorts into one of confusion.

"why do my lips look like that?"

you burst into laughter as you hold up the lipgloss for him to see. he curses before violently wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "you're so annoying," he says with a slight whine in his voice.

"but you look so cute! it really makes your lips pop!"

"delete that video!"

"no!"

KIM SUNOO

when you tell sunoo that you got each other matching lipglosses, he's ecstatic. you agree to apply it on each other. he does you first, applying it gently and carefully.

you do the same to him, and you're in awe once you're finished.

"it compliments you so well sun!"

"yours is perfect too. how did you know which ones to get?"

"well i think about your lips all the time. how perfect they are. soft, pretty color, perfect size, so kissable. that's how i knew."

sunos begins to blush. he hits your shoulder lightly, "you can't say stuff like that! you know how i get!"

"i know, i just love teasing you!"

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon is another man totally whipped for you, with no shame.

you're getting ready to go to a party and you've just finished your makeup. jungwon comes up from behind you, admiring you in the mirror. "you somehow get more and more beautiful everyday."

you smile widely, "and you somehow get more and more handsome everyday."

your eyes move between him and the lipgloss, a beautiful shade of pink that would compliment his lips so well.

"i can see the gears turning in your head, go ahead, put it on me."

you squeal in delight as you immediately start applying the lipgloss. jungwon keeps still, puckering when you tell him to. when you're done, you show him in the mirror. "look how good it looks!"

he smacks his lips a couple times, "it does look good. you always know how to make me look even better."

NISHIMURA RIKI

you and riki constantly bicker. not in a serious way but in a cute couples way.

when you tell him you wanna put lipgloss on him, he immediately tells you no. "but riki!" "no!"

you beg him to do it for you. he still denies you, claiming nothing will make him do it, not even your infamous puppy eyes.

you do the only thing you can think of. when he's sleeping, you carefully apply the lipgloss and proceed to take pictures and send them to the group chat.

y/n: look at the pretty princess 🎀

the replies are immediate, the boys responding to your message with crying and laughing emojis.

when riki wakes up an hour later and checks his phone, he rushes outside to find you sitting there like you've done nothing wrong. "you are so done for," he says and before you know it, he's in front of you, tickling you to death.

he refuses to let up, even as you say you're sorry, your sides hurting.

"say you're sorry!'

"i'm sorry ki, i'm sorry!"

AEWON 2024

[fadelbison]

I had to break out the main body comments because can I just say I have seen many forced kisses in BL. In fact, once upon a time it was BL bread and butter and while surprise and disgust and even fear are often expressed in these scenes - it is rare to see one where the character is so visibly fearful of their own desire.

The predatory character here comes in from a chokehold. There’s such a willing handover of power in that moment. Style is abundantly clear with his intentions. And when you know Fadel is the one who’s an assassin, the one with all the physical prowess - there’s only one meaning I can take away with the way Fadel gets caught off guard twice.

That he wanted it.

The little jump of surprise after Fadel has already kissed back and the way that makes him let go of the already flimsy chokehold altogether, the way he looks at style searching for something. Fadel is scared of his desire, he’s scared of his heart. Oh that cold, dead thing in his chest can beat so violently, can want so much and it really feels like this is the first time in a long, long time of squeezing the life out of it that he’s realizing that it’s still there.

THE HEART KILLERS (2024) I EP. 2 "You don't believe me because you've never felt like that with anybody. This is the kind of thing that takes a heart to understand."

[earthchica]

Can't Hide Love

terry richmond x black, fem! reader

summary: you're afraid of getting hurt and denying the love you feel for Terry, so you reject him when he confesses his feelings for you, but later, you might regret that decision.

warnings: light angst, jealousy, playing mind games, use of the n-word, explicit smut (18+), dom/sub, thighjob, daddy kink, choking kink, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, friends to lovers, nicknames (shorty, lil mama, baby, baby girl), words: 2k

note:

sequel to I Want You

-

You and Terry sat across from each other at the small kitchen table, the morning sunlight streaming through the window and casting a warm glow on your plates.

As you both chewed your breakfast, an unspoken tension filled the air, making the clinking of cutlery sound almost deafening. You couldn’t help but notice how Terry's eyes held yours, their intensity unyielding.

After an eternity, you decided to break the silence, leaning forward slightly as you finally said, "Last night was real fun but it can't happen again."

Terry clenched his jaw and looked at you, confused. "Wait, what, why?" He asked, his voice earnest and searching, his eyes trying to uncover the truth.

"I mean… if you think I only want sex, then you're mistaken. I like you a lot, shorty. I've felt this way for a while now and would love to take you on a date.” He added.

His expression shifted as he processed your confession. “I like you too, Terry, but…” Your voice trailed off, thick with hesitation and unspoken feelings.

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach. “I just don’t think I can handle anything more than what we have; let's stay friends,” you finished, hoping to keep things uncomplicated.

Terry's disappointment was noticeable, and he tried to conceal the hurt rising in his chest. He nodded as if he understood, even though every part of him wanted to question your rejection.

“Okay!” he said with a shrug, quickly finishing his orange juice to mask his feelings. He moved to the sink to clean his plate, the sound of clinking dishes filling the silence between you.

You were taken aback by his reaction. “Okay, that’s it?” you asked, your brow furrowing as you crossed your arms, a mix of disbelief and concern surfacing within you.

Terry turned his head slightly, a blank look on his face. “What do you want to say?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in genuine curiosity. You took a breath and shook your head. "Nothing."

The two of you left at that, and a few days went by after you rejected him. You were busy preparing for your art gallery opening, feeling excited and nervous.

When the event finally kicked off, you scanned the crowd hoping Terry was coming to at least to support you. Your heart skipped a beat when he walked in with a bouquet of roses.

“Yo, look who made it!” Terry called out with a broad smile, and you felt a rush of warmth. Terry approached you and hugged you quickly before pulling away and handing you the bouquet.

“These are for you. I’m proud of you, shorty, for real. These pieces are dope.” Terry said, honestly looking around at your artwork and your heart fluttered.

“Oh, thank you, Terry. It means a lot to have you here, I thought you weren't coming after, you know,” you replied, trying to keep it cool despite the knot of mixed feelings in your chest.

"Hey...despite that, we're good!" Terry said, reassuring you and placing his hand on your shoulder. You smiled brightly, moving your eyes away.

You waved your assistant over, who wasn't too far away to take the bouquet to you before going back to Terry. “Come on, I want to show you my favorites,” you said, leading him through the gallery.

As you walked, you pointed out different pieces. “This one is inspired by the culture of New Orleans. I wanted to capture that moment of the people.”

Terry nodded, genuinely impressed. “I see you, shorty! That’s hot!” You smiled and continued to show him your work, each piece sparking a conversation-filled detailed explanation.

Finally, you stopped before a special painting that you had kept hidden. “And this one,” you said nervously, “is for you.” As Terry looked at the painting, his eyes widened.

It was a portrait of him, perfectly capturing his eyes and bright smile. “Wow, you painted me? I don't remember you asking for permission to use my likeness,” he joked, grinning widely.

“But I'll let it slide because this is really dope, girl. You really outdid yourself. You’ve got me looking good!” Terry remarked, studying the details closely.

Your heart fluttered as you replied, “Thank you. I'm glad you love it; it means a lot to me.” Terry nodded and stepped back, admiring the piece fully with a playful smirk.

“You once said you only paint intimate pieces like this when you’re in love. So, what does this mean?” he asked, looking into your eyes, searching for an answer.

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. “Terry, this isn't the time or place.”

He stepped a little closer, a teasing grin still on his face. “Come on now, don’t act like I ain't onto something here. You gotta admit, this painting is special—just like us.”

You shook your head, trying to brush it off. “For real, Terry, drop it.”

“Why you gotta be like that? You know deep down you love me,” he said, his voice earnest but still playful. “I mean, who else you gonna paint like that? You had that canvas waiting just for me.”

You laughed softly, but it was a nervous laugh. “It’s just art, Terry. Ain’t gotta mean all that. You know I paint a lot of folks.”

Terry stepped even closer, leaning in a bit. “Nah, shorty, don’t play me. I see how you look at me when you think I ain't watching. You can't hide the love.”

You glanced over your shoulder, noting your other friends arriving. “Look, Lana and Kayla are here.” You took a step back, creating some space between you. “We can talk later, alright?”

He let out a sigh. “That's cool, and I know you’ll miss me when I move on.” As you walked away, you could feel him watching, his lingering gaze heavy on your back.

You greeted your other friends with a smile, hoping the moment with Terry would fade into the background. As the night went on, you went to look around for Terry.

Your eyes land on him as he chats with a stunning dark-skinned woman who is clearly attracted to Terry. She leans close, laughing at his joke while touching his arm.

You felt a pang of jealousy twist in your stomach. You decided to talk to him, hoping to get his attention. “Terry, can we talk for a second, please?”

Terry barely glanced your way, his attention still locked on the woman. “Yeah, just a sec!” he called, waving you off. You tilled your head, looking at him sideways.

You feel frustrated and a little petty, so you turn your gaze back to the crowd. Feeling bold, you spotted an attractive white guy across the room who seemed interested.

You walked over, flashing a charming smile, and began chatting and playfully flirting with the pretty man named Charles. You could feel Terry’s gaze, but you didn't look back.

You showed Charles some of your artwork, and you noticed Terry following you too closely, as did the woman he was walking to. You had where you just wanted.

“Hey, you wanna grab a drink after this?” Charles asked, leaning closer. You considered it, tempted to make Terry feel what you were feeling.

As you were about to answer with him, Terry finally broke away from the girl and stormed over. “What’s going on here?” he asked, his tone sharper than you expected.

“Just having fun, Terry, and meeting new people like Charles here,” you replied, crossing your arms as you shot him defiantly. “I thought you were busy talking to some girl .”

“Stop playing with me. You’re just trying to make me jealous, aren’t you?” he said, frustration evident in his voice. “I’m gonna go,” Charles replied.

You and Terry ignored him and he just walked away. “Yeah, only because you started it and completely ignored me talking to that trick?” you shot back.

Your words are laced with a bitter edge. A tense silence fell between you as the atmosphere crackled with unresolved emotions. Terry pulled you into the quiet space.

The tension between you was real, and confusion danced in his eyes. “Why you all pressed about me talkin’ to some girl?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “You turned me down, remember twice?”

You took a deep breath, feeling the heat of his body close to yours. “I know…T I messed up, okay? I’m just scared!” You said, the words tumbling before you could think.

“I didn’t want to get hurt. You know my last few relationships were rough. I thought shutting you out would help me, but it worsened everything.”

His expression softened, but he still looked conflicted. “So, you rejected me twice and then got mad when I started lookin’ elsewhere, then tried to make me jealous. Shit is childish, shorty.”

You nodded, your gaze dropping to the floor. “I know, and I'm sorry, but I realize I want to give this a chance; I want you, Terry, and I want to go on a date if the offer is still open.”

Terry stepped closer, his fingertips grazing your dark brown skin, sending shivers down your spine. “It's cool, and hurting you is the last thing I want to do, baby If I’m feelin’ you, I’m all in, no games.”

Your heart raced at his words, the warmth of his body drawing you in. “I want to be all in, too. Show me that taking this jump is okay," You said, you could feel the pull between you.

With that, he closed the gap, capturing your lips with his. All the pent-up tension exploded as you kissed him fiercely. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the world around you fade away.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. “I'll show you, baby, but first, let’s get out of here,” Terry suggested, and without a second thought, you followed him out of the event.

-

The familiar surroundings felt comforting and charged as you returned to the apartment. Both of you didn’t make it to either of the bedrooms.

Terry leaned in and kissed you hungrily in a sudden burst of lust, his lips warm against yours, his scuffed beard tickling you slightly. He gently pressed your back against the wall.

His hands were all over your body, removing your panties as his lips didn't even separate from yours. You pulled away, helped him out of his shirt, and then pushed his pants with his boxers down.

Terry kicks them off before unzipping your dress and taking it off. He cursed, biting his lip at the sight of your exposed breasts. "Terry" You let out a moan.

You grabbed the back of his head, feeling his braids. He twirled his tongue on your nipple like it was a sucker before sucking it into his mouth.

Terry looked up at you with those pretty light eyes of his with so much desire before popping your nipple off his mouth. He kisses you, dancing his tongue against yours.

He crouches with his legs wide out and gripping your hips. He begins thrusting his throbbing dick through the gap of your thighs. "You feel that, baby? You feel how hard you make me," Terry asked.

"Yes, fuck Terry. I feel so good; keep going, please," You moaned in pleasure, feeling him thrust faster through the soaking wetness of your pussy lips.

You throw your head back, loving the feel of his large hands gripping the plump rounds of your ass. "Mmm fuck" You bite your lip, rolling your hips and trying to match his rhythm slightly.

"Fuck, I need to be inside of that pretty pussy, baby." Terry moans, grabbing your hair roughly and pulling you into a kiss. He lifts your leg to hold you on his hip, and you look at him.

You licked your fingers and rubbed your clit before letting him line himself toward your pussy. He thrusts in slowly while looking deeply into your eyes.

You kissed him and gripped his shoulder as he began fucking you against the wall. "Ahhh, fuck me fuck me, Terry, this dick is good," you moaned in pleasure.

"You like getting fucked against the wall, huh, lil mama?" Terry asked, his voice low, watching your eyes roll back in your head, leading it against the wall.

He lifts you fully, grabs both of your legs under his arms, and begins pounding harder. "Oh my goodness, yes....and....you love this pussy don't you, huh?" You asked.

Your eyes seductively, staring into his soul. "Yeah, I fucking love this pussy, lil mama. This pussy is my mine, you hear me, nobody else? You got that?"

"Yes, yes, Terry, I got it, yes." You nodded at him with a light smirk, grabbing his neck as he continued pounding like a damn beast.

"Let me hear you, baby," Terry said, leaning your back against the wall and kissing your neck. You closed your eyes with your mouth in O, trying to get the words out.

"It's yours, all yours, Terry. Oh my goodness, I'm gonna cum." You moaned, feeling tears of joy coming down your face; the pleasure was so freaking good it brought you to tears.

"Cum, baby, cum on your dick because it's all yours," Terry moaned in your ear, and that is all you needed for you to let out the cry of his name, feeling yourself almost coming on down.

Terry puts you down slightly, has a hold on you to keep you steady, pulls out, and flicks his dick against your clit; you gasp, feeling a gushing of wetness coming out of your pussy.

"Ahhhh fucking shit, muthfucka," You cried, seeing the stars and feeling your body begin to tremble. You could feel yourself slowly falling from the wall.

Terry picks you up bridal style, takes you to your bedroom, and lays you down on your stomach on your bed. He lets you catch your breath as you come down from your high.

"Look at you, got you all breathless and shit; just know i'm not done with you, lil mama," Terry said, giving your ass smack, and you whimpered, feeling him hover over you.

Terry wraps his hand around your neck, gently but firmly tilting your head back, forcing you to look up at him. His intense gaze holds yours.

He kisses you passionately and thrusts inside of you harshly, slightly muffling your moans as he pulls away and grabs your lower back to get a different edge to go deeper.

"So fucking big and so fucking deep, fuck me," You moaned, gripping the sheets of the bed so tight you thought you were going to rip with your bare hands.

Terry lifts himself up and smacks your ass while gripping it in his large hand, watching it jiggle with his every thrust. "Shit, lil mama, after this you're gonna be my girl now.

"And I'm giving you what you deserve; you know I ain't like these other niggas. I'mma take you out and treat you right, okay! I know you love me. You tried to pretend, but I see through it," Terry added.

"Yes, I'm your girl; I wanted it and can't hide love anymore. I want it, Daddy, I love you," you cried out, more tears of joy coming down your face, which made him smirk.

His hands wrap around your neck as you let out loud moans as he thrusts faster and harder with force like no other than before, and he pauses his thrusts for a second, making you whine loudly.

"Say it again, say you love me again," Terry says, pulling out and slamming back into you hard, hitting your sweet spot, still holding your neck.

"Ahhh, I love you, Terry, ahhh fuck I loved you ever since we met," you screamed, feeling yourself coming hard. Terry continued to thrust until he had reached his own mind-blowing orgasm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I love you too, baby," Terry said, pulling you into a kiss, feeling his cum spurt into your pussy. He pulls out, watching it drop out of you.

Terry falls against you on the bed a second before flips to lay on his back, and both of you lay there catching your breath. Eventually, you both took a shower.

Terry went to get some night clothes and returned dressed in sweatpants as if you were doing your night routine. You walk out of the bathroom into your bedroom.

You chuckled to see Terry get comfortable under your covers. You walked over to the bed, got in, and snuggled into his chest. You both held each other in a sweet, soft silence.

“You really mean what you said?” you asked, just needing reassurance from him. Terry looked deep into your eyes, his expression soft and beaming.

“I did. You deserve the world, baby girl, and I wanna give you that if you just let me,” he said, being honest. You smiled and said, “I’ma let you, Terry.”

“Good! Um... you meant it when you said you really love me, right? " he asked, and you smiled back and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I really do, Terry. I meant it.”

His eyes lit up with happiness, and he leaned closer, gently kissing your lips. As the moment's warmth enveloped you, you both fell asleep in each other's arms, hoping for the best in the future.