#wish i were sleepy to help the time pass

[thepoisonroom]

one hour until my girlfriend gets here!!!!!!!

[lieslab]

And at last I see the light

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Minho X gn reader

Summary: Half-delirious and sick, you randomly tell Minho about your dream proposal and he takes notes.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: I'm sappy and emotional. This was definitely inspired by Tangled. What can I say? I'm just a girl who cries easily and thinks about love a lot. Can a girl not ponder? Anyway, if you get choked up at proposals, grab a tissue or two.

_ _ _

The simple conversation was so long ago that you forgot about it. It was a brief moment in passing, just another random conversation, but Minho didn’t forget it. In fact, he’d been planning since then. 

“If I were to propose to you, where would you want it and how would you want it done?” 

The two of you were on opposite ends of the couch. Your body was heavy with the weight of a random stomach bug. Through the stomach aches and nausea, you were fading in and out of consciousness. Minho wanted to take you to your shared bed, but you refused. Too worried about making him sick, you opted to stay on the couch. 

Every time he came close to you, you stubbornly held your breath and threatened to make yourself pass out. It was dramatic, but it wasn’t unusual for you, you always were. Too afraid of giving him the same bug, you did your best to keep your distance. 

You didn’t get the exact wish you were hoping and praying for. At some point, you fell asleep and he covered you in a thick fleece blue blanket. A kiss was planted to the top of your sleeping temple before he strolled back over to the couch. He curled up on the other side and kept an eye on you. 

The television was already on, but he twitched the show to something silly with cartoon characters. You needed your rest and he didn’t want you to wake up and stress out your brain by trying to follow along with a half-over plot. He picked out the most childish show and let it play. 

When you woke up, you awoke to dancing shadows and the gentle vibrations of the leather couch. Across the way, Minho couldn’t help, but laugh at something that a character said. He grinned and kept his eyes on the flickering screen. 

You caught his attention when you sleepily uttered his name. He quickly lowered the volume, got up, and rushed to get you water. You still refused to let him be too close, so all he could do was keep his distance and observe your stubborn self. 

The conversations didn’t have a steady theme. He talked about one thing and then another. You jumped from topic-to-topic with him. You were about ready to fall asleep again when he asked you that question. 

“Tangled,” you mumbled. 

His eyebrows pinched together and he studied your face. Your sleepy eyes were half-lidded and a yawn tugged your mouth into a small o-shape. A smile grew on half of his face and he asked for clarification. 

“The scene where Rapunzel and Flynn are in the gondola with the flying lanterns.” 

“What about it?” 

“Maybe not the gondola, but with the flying lanterns.” You nuzzled your head back against the cool leather. “I’ve always thought they were beautiful. It’d be the perfect memory.” 

“You think so?” 

“I know so, but you can’t propose to me when I’m sick. I don’t feel good and I think I’d throw up on your shoes. I think the lights would somehow make me nauseous.” 

“You poor, poor thing,” he teased you. 

“Mmhm. Poor me.” Your eyes slipped shut and you let out a sigh. He watched you slowly drift back to sleep with the cartoons long forgotten about. His brain went into overdrive that night. 

Loving Minho was the easiest choice you ever made. From his quick wit to his loudness, it was the best choice. Not a single soul could compare and it was something you tried not to take for granted. 

Whether it was arguing about who deserved the last pudding, or sitting in silence while Minho laid on your lap, your love was so simple. Life went on and the conversation erased from your brain, but it didn’t stop you from having moments when you watched him with a soft fondness. 

Your body relaxed and inside your chest, your heart stuttered as your brain tried to capture those little moments. Sometimes, it was as simple as him leaning over the stove and stirring whatever dish he was trying to make. Other times, it was when he was bare faced and stretched out on the couch with one of his cats upon his lap. 

His messy hair poked out in every direction from running his hand through it. After dance practice, his muscles ached and he just wanted to sit down and take a bit of time to relax. You usually joined him and crept over, snuggling beneath his arm to keep him warm. He’d whine and complain of your sudden presence, but he never pulled away. 

He liked when you wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed a soft kiss against the side of his neck. Just as you grew fond of him, he grew smitten with you. He joked that his love for you was like a pesky bunion that just wouldn’t go away. 

Meanwhile, you compared it to wild mushrooms. You could try to stop loving him, but the love would keep sprouting up. Just when you thought there was nothing more to love, you’d turn your back for a brief moment and glance back to find another thing to love; another mushroom sprouted through damp soil. 

Everything was warm and bright. In your eyes, everything was right and as the days turned into weeks, when those weeks burrowed into months, and began to roll into years, Minho knew he had you forever. He was going to take advantage of your sleepy-sick state and put his plans into action one day, but it never seemed like the right time. The two of you were always busy and time kept going, your love was an endless sea, but he wanted to make it truly official. 

That wish came true when spring unveiled itself. With the chirping birds and baby bunnies, there was finally going to be a lantern festival. Rejuvenation, rebirth, and earth’s restoration; the perfect time to take the next step in your relationship. 

“Wear something nice.”

“I always wear something nice.” 

“Your constant state of sweatpants and hoodies says otherwise.” 

“Fuck off!” 

He just wanted you to look back at the video and be content with what you were wearing. The lantern festival was a rarity and you already had your best outfit picked out. You went through the entire routine of making yourself look good and then put it on. 

It was a miracle that you didn’t notice the bouncing of his non-driving leg. He shifted in the seat a few times, but your nose was pressed against the passenger’s seat glass. You were going on and on about how excited you were for the festival, you always wanted to attend one. 

You were unaware that the fate of your relationship sat in a small square box in Minho’s pocket. The weight of it in his pocket wasn’t much, but tonight, it felt like the ring he picked out was a thousand pounds. He kept glancing over at you and imagining what your face would look like. If it was ugly, he would be sure to tease you about it. 

The two of you arrived twenty minutes before the lanterns were set to be released. Finding a parking space was difficult, but by some miracle, he managed to find an empty space to squeeze his car into. He grabbed your hand and headed to the area to grab a lantern. 

“Are you getting one too?” You asked, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet. 

“No, I just want to watch you light and release yours. You’ve been wanting this, right? It’s your night to shine.” 

“Well, yeah, but I thought you were going to do it with me.” You frowned and couldn’t hide the disappointment from your voice. 

“Just don’t worry about it, have your fun.” 

After grabbing the paper lantern with a tea light white candle tucked inside, Minho handed it to you. “Remember that you only get one wish, so use it well.” You playfully slapped his shoulder and took the lantern. 

“Maybe I should wish for you to stop being a pain in my ass.” 

“In your dreams.” 

With one hand on the lantern and one hand in Minho’s, you began to lead him through the thicket of people. It seemed like everyone wanted to light and release a lantern too. Maybe it was the same reason as you, people wanted to make a wish. For others, it was a way to remember specific people and other loved ones. 

No matter what the reason was, it made your heart swell with happiness. How human was it to long for peace? People had done this since the beginning of time and tonight wasn’t anything new. 

Little did you know, Minho’s friend was tracking his location. The location sharing app had the exact path they were taking. A few people away, he silently followed with quiet footsteps. In his hand, the phone that’d be used to catch the proposal. 

You wiggled through laughter and tears full of a yearning for loved ones. Tonight, no matter who was here, there was a sense of unity. You could feel the tethered string of your heart plucking at all the sights and sounds. 

When you finally found a spot on a slight grassy hill, the two of you were only near a handful of people. Minho glanced over his shoulder and found his friend’s face in the reflection of a phone light. His friend quickly clicked off his phone, so he could stay hidden in the dark blanket of night.

“How do you feel?” Minho asked. 

“I’m so excited!” You grinned. “I’ve always wanted to do something like this. Ever since I watched Tangled for the first time, the floating lantern scene on the water has always been my favorite scene.” 

“I’m sorry that we’re not on water.” 

“Are you kidding me?” You scoffed. “Look at where we are! This is going to be so beautiful. It’s like we’re holding the stars tonight. For once, they won’t be in the sky, we’ll be capturing them and sending them back home.” 

He pressed his lips together, trying not to get sappy over how excited you were. You were like a little kid as you rambled. Even in the dark, a nearby street light lit up the excitement in your eyes. He’d seen you excited before, but this was something entirely different. 

His hand went into his pant’s pocket to make sure the ring was still there. His hand found the square leather box and his shoulders relaxed. He knew exactly how he’d do this, he was just hoping you’d say yes. 

After a few minutes of talking, your arm shot out and you pointed across the way. “Look! It’s starting! We can light our lantern!”

Our lantern. 

Minho said he wasn’t getting a floating lantern and instead of ignoring his words, you just assumed that the two of you could share the lantern instead. His heart ached with a love for you that he couldn’t understand sometimes. It was little things like that, it made him think he could love you until his heart gave out. 

He reached into his other pocket, held out a lighter, and handed it to you. You held up the lantern and he hesitated. It was only after you nodded that he flicked the flame to life. He placed it back in his pocket and behind him, his friend came closer to record the moment. 

“Come on, grab the lantern and make a wish.” 

“But it’s your lantern.” 

“Lee Minho, so help me, if you don’t grab on and make a wish with me...” 

Across the way, flickering yellows and oranges began to fly higher in the sky. He grabbed the other side of the lantern and together, the two of you raised it higher and higher. After your arms couldn’t stretch anymore, your fingers let go. 

You smiled as you watched it go further and further away. Above the people’s heads, above the buildings, and further and further into the night sky. Your eyes didn’t leave, even when it blended into a crowd of other lights. 

Awe and endearment flooded the area. Shouts of joy and flickers of laughter. No matter what people wished tonight, for once, it felt like it’d be okay. Whatever hurt and whatever harm had touched people’s lives, tonight was the start of something different. 

Every light had a story and each one was a flicker of hope. Into the air, into the sky, and over buildings. Tonight, you weren’t sure where your lantern would land, it’d be up to the universe to decide. 

“So what’d you wish for?” 

You began to spin around at the sound of Minho’s voice. “I wished for-” You gasped and a hand slammed over your mouth. A few feet away, Minho was down on one knee with a box holding a ring. 

“Are you joking?” Your voice wobbled as you spoke. An emotional lump was forming in your throat. Tears blurred your eyes. 

“Will you marry me?” 

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously.” 

“Yes. Yes. Yes!” You vigorously nodded as tears streamed down your cheeks. “A thousand times yes!” 

Before he could get up, you collapsed down beside him. He didn’t get a chance to speak because you threw your arms around his shoulders. You pressed your head into the side of his neck as a choked out sob fell from your lips. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” He wrapped his arms around you tightly. “Why are you crying?” 

“Because,” you weakly squeaked as you pulled away from his body. “This was my wish. I wanted our relationship to last forever.” 

“I guess we both got our wishes tonight. My wish was that you’d say yes.” He chuckled and wiped your tears away with his thumbs. “Can we get up now? I’d like to make it official and put a ring on it.” 

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled as you pulled your arms away. You allowed him to help pull you up. Your hand stuck out and he began to stick a ring on your finger. 

“That might be true, but I’m your idiot.” He gently grabbed your ring finger and slid on the ring. “Now I’m your idiot forever. Come on, stop crying.” He wiped away more of your tears. 

“I can’t help it, I’ve always dreamed of this. How’d you know this is what I wanted? The floating lights and everything?” Your eyes searched his, but all he offered with a soft hum and a shrug. 

“Love is a mystery like that sometimes.” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Come on,” he slowly turned you around. “Let's watch the lanterns, shall we?” An arm wrapped around your shoulders. 

With a final sniffle, you let your head lean against his shoulder. Everything was just as perfect as you’d imagine it to be. Nothing anyone could do would ever be able to top this moment.

Minho glanced over his shoulder and his friend gave him a thumbs up. He stopped the recording and disappeared back into the crowd of people. Tomorrow, Minho would make you watch the video and he’d tease you for your dramatic reaction. 

Tonight, you were just two people whose wishes came true beneath floating lanterns and that was enough for him. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

Taglist: @lia-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45 @emilyywhyy @rockstarkkami @flightlessackerman

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Ko-fi

[bbokvhs]

mornings like this ྀི

pairing : needy!felix x sleepy!reader ((afab))

genre : smut 🔞

synopsis : your boyfriend wakes up with a case of morning wood.

content : not really medically accurate but im not a doctor so idrc, breeding kink, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), dacryphilia, pet names for reader (sweetheart, angel, pretty girl), overstimulation

a/n : written at 2am running on 3 hours of sleep so it is possibly not as good as i would like it to be 😓. also, it may not be much to some of you, but tysm for the love on our dangerous secret!! it means a lot, especially since it was my first piece ♡ so here’s a small surprise from yours truly :D please let me know if i forgot content warnings! NOT PROOFREAD 🤕

( taglist + anon emojis )

your boyfriend’s phone softly buzzed in the bed next to him, his eyes blinking lazily as he awoke. he had to run errands for the day, and didn’t feel like getting shit from chris or minho for being a few minutes late like the last time — well, the last 4 times.

he sat up, hissing immediately at the stinging sensation flooding his body. he looked down, only to be met with the sight of his imprinted hard-on in his sweats.

"how convenient." he sighed, rubbing his eyes and trying his best not to move as to not agitate the problem.

minutes passed, his erection only growing worse. felix felt himself tremble, debating whether or not he wanted to do something about the situation. he could just go into the bathroom, fuck his fist, and go on with his day. but, another voice inside him told him he was craving you.

he looked over his shoulder, watching your limp, sleeping body softly breathe, your slumber looking as peaceful as ever. he didn’t want to interrupt your beauty sleep, but god, how bad he wanted you. how bad he needed you.

he gulped, worried about irritating you. waking you, and asking for sex the second you woke up? you’d think he was a creep, probably. but he couldn’t stop thinking about how bad he could show you his affection right now. he’d make you feel good, love you all over just the way you like in the bedroom. sure, you two loved having rough and sweaty sex every now and then, but you were mostly into sensually making love.

he shifted his body to face you, reaching his hand out, drawing semi-circles on your forearm with his thumb. he watched your body slightly jump from the action. he chuckled to himself, finally deciding to give into his thoughts.

he shook you lightly, watching your pretty eyes flicker open, smiling as soon as your gaze met him. you were going to attempt to say hi to your lover, but instead were met with something far more shocking.

"baby— baby, i know it might be a little much to ask at this hour, but could i please fuck you? i woke up and had a little morning surprise."

"felix—"

"please! please— oh my god, please. i would go into the bathroom or try to keep quiet next to you, but i couldn’t handle it. my cock aches just for you, always for you."

your eyes, now widened with shock, blink repeatedly as you try to understand his words. "i would, but isn’t is a little ear—"

felix interrupted your speaking, grabbing your hand and placing it on his erection. "please, i need you. 'm all yours. i’ll be so fast, i’ll do just the tip, anything you want."

you lay there, dumbfounded yet honestly turned on tremendously. was it everyday you got to see your boyfriend all needy and whiny for you? absolutely not. were you going to take advantage of this vulnerability? absolutely!

you smiled, basically signaling your boyfriend with your face that you would allow it. fuck you wish you had your camera open on your phone, because his reaction to this information was priceless. he was cheering and giggling to himself, very loudly of course.

your boyfriend got up from the bed, immediately pulling his sweatpants down and sliding them off his body, doing the same with his boxers. with his full hard-on on display, you couldn’t help but feel a bolt of excitement rush to your pussy.

"are you okay with no prep today? i can’t wait any longer, need it so bad." he whined, frowning.

"alright. just this once though, m’kay? it really hurts when you don’t help me."

he nodded, climbing onto the bed, removing his shirt on the way. he sat on his knees in front of your laying body, positioning your tank top over your tits, practically drooling at the scene. snapping out of his elusive state, he grabbed your shorts, along with your panties, and slid them down your body fully, excluding them across the room.

"so pretty." he groaned, mumbling a few words to himself before positioning you comfortably below him. "need you so bad. i hope you love me like i love you, want you forever."

he positioned his middle and ring finger atop your folds, rubbing up and down slowly as he used his other hand to stroke himself. "always ready for me, hm?"

your face was hot with embarrassment, yet you spoke not a word during the moment, not wanting to spoil your boyfriend’s fun.

he stopped abruptly, scooting closer and aligning his tip with your entrance. "so ready for me, i can already sense it." he spoke, looking down as he watched his insertion, your pussy basically engulfing his cock.

felix groaned loudly, cursing under his breath from the way you clenched around him.

"ohh, fuck! so amazing, ‘m not gonna last long in this pretty pussy."

you looked up at him, your face scrunched up from pleasure. he made eye contact with you as he began to move inside of you, slowly and gently.

he leaned down, his face buried in the crook of your neck, beginning to thrust at a slow stride. "sweetheart, dunno if i can make it with you, too gorgeous, so fucking beautiful."

you closed your legs around his back, making sure he was feeling the same sensation you were feeling inside. "fuck me, lix!— love you so much, so, so happy to have you."

felix obliged, beginning to quicken his pace. he lifted his head a bit to plant sweet kisses all around your jawline and collarbone. while his head was busy kissing up a storm on your face, his free hand was caressing your left tit, watching as your face had raw emotion painted all over.

"too-" he planted a final kiss on your neck, "gorgeous."

he slammed his cock into you even more, roughly changing his hand position from your chest to your clit, circling it with his small fingers.

your eyes tightly shut, trying your best to not overstimulate with sensations. "mm, love it when you touch me, baby." you lazily let out, your body slowly becoming more and more fucked-out.

"oh, yeah? love the way i can split you open with my huge cock. so fat and generous to my lovely girl, isn’t it?" he whispered in your ear, practically pounding your cunt at this point.

you turned into mush under his touch, not being able to verbally respond, reaching around his torso, squeezing him closer, grabbing a fist full of his long blonde locks.

he moaned into your ear, along with small inaudible praises.

"so much better than my hand," he hissed, "wanna use you everyday of my life. need you making a pretty mess all over your needy boyfriend’s cock." he hummed, biting his lip, feeling his abdomen begin to tighten. "fuck, angel. do you mind if i cum inside? need to watch it spill out of your breathtaking cunt. please."

"yes! anything for you— shit!" your head leaned back into the pillow forcefully, attempting to give your skull some comfort.

"hell yes. oh hell yes, baby," he bit his lip, lifting his head a final time to watch your face and body reactions to his techniques. "want my baby inside you? fucking— shit!" he exclaimed, watching your tits bounce in the rhythm of his cock thrusting into you.

"gonna fuck the lee bloodline into my angel, gonna give you a beautiful baby, only for my girl." he spoke between grunts, going as fast as he possibly could to try and please your aching pussy. "wanna get you big and pregnant to show my friends how much of a cum slut my princess is."

that line. the way he pronounced every word. the way he rambled on about getting you pregnant with his baby. it was too much for you, your cunt clearly trying to tell you something. you squeezed his back tighter than ever, feeling your pussy begin to squirt all over your boyfriend’s dick.

felix noticed immediately, looking down then back up at you, smiling through his physical exhaustion. "so fucking stunning."

you moaned out his name countless times, beginning to sob your eyes out in front of him. felix lifted his head to wipe your tears, only to see your fucked out crying face terribly attractive.

"here’s your baby, oh fuck! baby’s on the way, my love. can’t wait to watch my cum spill out of you." he spoke hastily, his high approaching rapidly.

he grabbed onto your hips, pulling you closer and kissing your lips harshly as his seed spilled into your walls. you groaned into the kiss, the warm notion of his cum making you want to pass out.

felix thrusted his last few lazy shots before pulling out, kissing your sweaty forehead, removing the greased down strands to the sides of your face. "so good, love. you did so good."

he quickly remembered his words and rushed to position himself for a view of your pussy, watching his release ooze out of you, slowly spilling onto the bedding. he bit his lip, wiping some of the excess up with his fingers and reaching them up to your mouth.

"wanna taste me, baby?"

you immediately nodded, sucking the cum off his fingers sloppily, like a dog lapping up a large bowl of water on a hot day.

"that’s my girl." he smiled brightly. "now let’s go take a nice bath, yeah? that sound nice? we can soak and get ready to start our day."

you smiled back, watching your boyfriend disappear into the bathroom, the faint sound of the faucet running filling the empty atmosphere.

what a great start to a day, right?

© bbokvhs — please do not redistribute my work anywhere it’s greatly appreciated <3

[filthygalli]

Hush

Fem!Reader x Hwang In-Ho

Warnings: MDNI18+, Oral (F receiving), Fingering, Pussy Eating, Overstimulation, SoftDom! In-Ho, Secretive In-Ho, Mentions of Gunshot wound, Light Alcohol consumption, No usage of Y/N (but readers getting called as "Sweetheart" and "Darling"), Not proofread, Let me know if I missed anything! 🖤

Word Count: 1,686

Author's Note: I was so sleepy and I zoned out with this idea, I had the urge to write it because I'm afraid if I sleep it'll be gone by the time I wake up, so I apologize if there's spelling and grammar mistakes!

© Pictures are from: I come by the rain (2009)

You've been married to In-Ho for 3 years. You've known him since you were kids, he's a dominant man but he would worship the ground you walk on, give you expensive things, treat you romantically without you noticing it. That's probably the main reason why you married him.

For over 3 years of marriage, you still don't know what's his work, he always tell you that he's just going out for a ‘business trip’ that he'll be gone for 7 days, you begged for him to tell you what's his work about—but he's just changing the subject quickly, avoiding the question about his work. You let it pass every time though, maybe it's something that you don't need to know, something that it's private—but you're worried, what if something bad happens to him during that ‘business trip'? Though, when he's away he always call you and send you messages when he can, one time you told him you missed him and you need him that you cried on the phone while begging for him to come home, In-Ho's heart ache at the sound on your voice breaking through the line on the phone, sometimes he hates himself from not telling you the truth about what he do, on who he really is…but for the sake of your safety—he choose not to.

He went straight home and cuddled up with you on your shared bed, whispering sweet nothings to your ear as you lay your head on his chest, his breathing calms you down—the way his chest would slowly rise up and down, matching the pace of your breathing, you relaxed at the soft hum of his voice as he tells you that he's sorry for leaving you for almost 3 days, that he'll take you out tomorrow to go and shopping and eat at one of your favorite restaurants in Italy.

But sometimes, you just can't help but ask In-Ho about it, even though you know he'll avoid the question, you wanted to know the truth.

“Sweetheart, I wish I could tell you in detail, but even if I did…you won't understand.” He said, sitting on the leather sofa, a whiskey in his left hand while looking up at you, “It's just…I'm worried,” you sat down beside him, “Last time you went home…you had a wound on your shoulder,” In-Ho clenched his jaw tightly, recalling the incident between him and his brother Jun-Ho, he sighed softly, eyeing you, “I know sweetheart, but I promise I'm ok, nothing to worry about.” he sets down the glass of whiskey on the coffee table as He assured you, he gave you a kiss on top of your forehead, You smiled up at him, “I love you, In-Ho.” You said kissing him, the kiss was gentle and delicate, you liked it when he kiss you like this—taking his time with you, making you take control of him if you want to, his hands travelled up to your waist as he picks you up to sit on his lap, he pulls away slowly, “I love you too, Sweetheart.” He said as he trails down kisses on your jaw all the way down to your neck, you whimper, “In-Ho…” you start to feel a familiar sensation between your thighs, “I know, sweetheart…let me take care of you, hmm?” you nodded eagerly, In-Ho chuckled at your response. He hooked his finger on the strap of your shirt, pulling it down slowly revealing your bare chest to him, “You look so beautiful like this, sweetheart,” he said as he plants kisses on your chest, sucking the exposed skin—leaving reddish marks on it, you whined, “In-Ho…please–” you begged as you looked down on him, still sucking your skin, he looked up, dark brown eyes turned up at you, he trails his warm tongue on your nipple, you moaned as he started sucking it gently. In-Ho can feel himself getting hard, he wants to fuck you right here, right now, but he wants to push you first, to make you feel good.

He released his mouth on your nipple with a loud pop, his saliva glistened on your nipple, “Tell me what you want sweetheart.” He said gripping your neck lightly, not too much to hurt you, “Please.. In-Ho,” you begged, tears started to prickle on the corner of your eye, “Please what, sweetheart?” He said reaching through your cheek to wipe your eyes using his thumb, “Fuck me, please, In-Ho…” you once again begged as In-Ho chuckled, “Want me to fuck you, huh, sweetheart?” He said cupping your chin to look down at him, you didn't say anything and just gave him a whinny look, “Need your words sweetheart,” he said giving you a smirk, “Want you to fuck me, Please In-Ho…” “As you wish, sweetheart.” He said as he lays you down softly on the sofa, he motioned you to lift your hips as he pulls down your shorts, revealing you in your undies, he leans down and trails kisses on your thighs, licking your skin, you whimper as In-Ho chuckled, the vibration of his chuckle sends shivers down on your spine, “Please…” you cried out, “Patience is a virtue, Darling.” He whispered on your skin, his breath feels hot on your skin, you want him to touch you, to fuck you to put you on your place, He hooked his index fingers on the waist band of your undies—exposing your bare cunt Infront of his face, “So wet for me, Sweetheart.” He said as he traced his middle finger on the slit of your pussy—earning a whimper from you, He leaned in as you felt his warm breath on your aching cunt, “In-Ho…please–want you,” your hips jerked up as he looks at you, he glared at you, your breath hitched as he stick his tongue out slightly licking your clit, teasing you as he smirk, “Mmm–” you mumbled, lips pressed together, “Wanna hear your voice, sweetheart, let me hear them.” He said in between kisses on your pussy, You moaned, When In-Ho heard your pornographic moans he eats your pussy like a starved man—slurping every juices that your pussy could offer him, sucking the bundle of nerves, biting the soft skin as your eyes rolled back from the back of your head, you arch your back—gripping your hands on the leather couch as you moaned his name like a broken record, He continues to eat you while looking at you, he reached for your hand that's grabbing the leather couch, softly putting it on his hair, your grabbed his hair tightly—pushing him down on your cunt—you want more, you want more of him, He flicks his tongue faster as he slides his index finger inside your pussy, “Fuck–In-Ho!” You moaned as he curled his fingers inside you, he smirked at the sound of you, priding himself that he could make a mess out of you by just doing this, making you beg for more till you break—of course he will keep giving you more till you can't cum anymore, he'll make you writhe against his touch, make you feel sore, he'll make you unable to walk for days as he pride himself for eating you out and making you cum and squirt all over his face. You started to feel a familiar sensation in your stomach as In-Ho continuously flicked his tongue on your aching clit, you're so gonna be sore for days you'll be staying in bed and call In-Ho for help to stand up, he hasn't fucked you yet and you feel worned out, what more if he rammed his thick cock inside your pussy? He'll rip you apart, not that you don't mind though, you're going to take it like a good girl. His good girl.

“In-Ho…” you cried out, In-Ho felt your pussy clenched around his index finger, he knows you're about to cum and he'll give it to you no matter what. “I know sweetheart, cum for me, Be a good girl and cum on my face,” he said in between a flick of his tongue as his husky voice sent shivers down your spine “ruin my face with your sweet juices, squirt on my face like a damn fountain.”

his voice soft but demanding, you whimpered at his words as you felt him go crazy on your clit, he added a second finger inside you, making you feel full of him already, he pumped his thick fingers inside and out of you, shoving it harshly—hitting every spot inside of you as you shivered and moan his name, “In-Ho!” Is the last thing you screamed as you squirt your juices on In-Ho's face, he hurriedly opened his mouth and slurped everything he could get, not wasting a drop as he repeatedly fuck's you with his tongue, you felt so overstimulated, it's all too much, but you need In-Ho inside of you, you want him badly.

“Stop–I can't! Too much!” you breathe out, “Want you.. inside ah!” You heard him chuckled darkly, “Sweetheart,” he said as he brought up his face a little, his chin and cheeks glistened with your juices, he licked his lips before opening his mouth to talk to you, “Let me make it up to you for those days that I'm gone.” He said as he sat up, unbuckling his belt—not breaking an eye contact with you, you moaned at the sight of him; it always excite you when he does this, it's simple yet so fucking hot and sexy, “I'll make sure you'll forget to ask that damn question,” he said as he threw his pants on the floor revealing his cock, he lined it up on your entrance, gathering some of your juices to use it as a lube for his cock, pre-cum beaded on his tip as he slapped the tip of his cock on your now swollen clit, “The only thing you'll remember is this moment, while I fuck you senselessly with my cock, I'll pump you full with my cum that you'll be leaking for days that I'm gone, You'll only remember how I fuck this pretty cunt of yours.”

Author's Note: I hope you like this one, Its longer than what i've imagined. Anyways, Let me know if you want a part 2 of this one, Thank you for the support!

< Squid Game Masterlist I Main MasterList >

[trappolia]

SUNDAY IS FOR REST ── sunday x halovian!reader, 918

"do be careful, my dove," he murmurs as you straighten out the light feathers behind his ear.

"you haven't preened yourself in a while, have you?" your voice is soft, a hint of chiding to it that makes his heart flutter — there's a groggy rasp to your tone as well, having just stirred from your own dreams. sunday dares not look back at you, for there is a sweet domesticity to be found in the impression of rumpled bedsheets against your cheek and the heavy-lidded eyelids that make it known that you would love nothing more than to go back to sleep — proper sleep.

a hum resonates in sunday's chest as he allows himself to be fully immersed in the moment; early morning, messy hair and feathers, the sleepy press of lip against lip. his head tilts to the side, allowing greater access for you to tidy the feathers in question.

"you are correct. there's no need for me to do such preening in the dreamscape, though i prefer it when you offer your generous help," he replies, a mix of contentment and fondness pervading his voice.

"i'll help you only if you stay still," you grumble. your hands, which were straightening out his feathers, are now hovering just above them as sunday tries very hard not to shift in place again.

he cannot help it, truly. it is not just the factor that sunday is unused to, well, anyone touching something as intimate as his halovian wings, but also the fact that the slightest brush of your skin against his is a sensation like no other.

not that he would ever tell you, of course.

sunday nods, a silent affirmation that he will try his best to remain still, although a trace of a smile dances upon his lips. as you resume tending to his wings, each brush of your fingers brings a newfound appreciation for the sensation of your touch. he can feel the slight tingle, akin to electricity, every time your skin makes contact with his wings.

"my apologies," he murmurs, a chuckle slipping past his lips — as if he is not willing his chest to rise and fall rhythmically, having to manually breathe under your intimate ministrations. "i shall endeavour my utmost to be an inanimate statue. your wish is my command."

"haha," you say dryly.

in spite of your tone, sunday cannot help but chuckle at your jest. a cruel man he is, to find amusement in your grumpiness in the early morn. your nimble fingers gently untangle his feathers, and the sensation is a mix of tingles and warmth that spread across his wings. the act of having someone, especially someone he holds in such high esteem, tend to these parts of him that are reserved for only the most intimate moments is endearing, to say the least.

as you work, your movements deliberate and precise, your lover muses softly, "only you could make tending to feathers feel like a luxury."

"it is a luxury when you are not the one doing it yourself," you huff, hands moving around with practiced ease: smoothing a feather here, tugging a broken one out there.

sunday's chest rumbles with barely suppressed laughter at your huff of annoyance, but he remains true to his word and does all he can to keep still. his skin feels electrified with each brush of your touch, even more potent than before, and he wonders idly if it's because he's aware of how much effort you're taking in taking care of him. he is always the one caring and fussing, rather than being cared for and fussed over. it is strange, for the tables to be turnt. strange, had it been anyone else but you.

"perhaps," he manages to say between bouts of laughter, reaching back to catch one of your wrists and presses a chaste kiss upon it. "we could make a habit of this."

"is it truly proper of the head of the oak family to make a habit of keeping himself less than pristine?" you murmur.

how embarrassing; the passing thought occurs to sunday at your words. indeed, it is unbecoming for him, who stands at a position of such power and authority, to be so unkempt, so careless around you. it feels… freeing.

and so his response is a gentle tug upon your wrist, guiding your arms to wrap around his shoulders and link with his fingers. with a smile full of affection and a touch of teasing, he gently brushes his thumb over the tender flesh between your thumb and forefinger.

"i am simply indulging in the pleasure of being cared for," he answers in that same gentle rumble. "and if that means i am a tad bit less than pristine as a result, so be it."

"i suppose so," you hum, and from where sunday sits in between your legs, he feels you lean forward, hooking your chin over his shoulder. your own wings tickle his cheek, like a lover's kiss in the early morning. "preen me next?"

a low rumble resonates somewhere deep in his chest at the feeling of your breath against his neck. the closeness you've allowed between you is not something sunday takes lightly, and he relishes in it with every beat of his heart.

"with pleasure," he answers, unable to help the upwards tug of his lips as he squeezes your palms.

"let me take care of you, my dove — as you do to me."

© trappolia 2024

[fastandcarlos]

Sleepy Bug : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz

summary: it's the surprise of a lifetime for carlos as you flew halfway around the world for him, and as jetlag greets you, carlos is determined to see you getting the rest you deserve

A heavy sigh escaped from you as your hands brushed over your face, dancing lazily through your strands of hair. Your eyes were heavy as you struggled to keep them open, the effects of many busy days at work, coupled with your last minute to fly halfway around the world to support Carlos for the weekend were taking their toll. 

You barely had the strength to carry yourself around the bathroom as you finished your night routine, stretching your fingertips out to turn the light off so you didn’t have to take any more steps than you needed to.  

“Come here you,” Carlos smiled, extending his arm out across the bed, inviting you to fill the space that was beside him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so tired in my life.” 

You hummed in response as you placed your phone down, tossing the clothes you’d taken off into your suitcase. “As much as I love coming to support you, jetlag is my worst enemy right now, I can’t begin to tell you how much I hate it.” 

Once you were sorted, you threw yourself down onto the bed and rested your head against Carlos' arm, feeling him drape the duvet over your frame so that you could get as much warmth from it as possible. 

“How’s that now?” 

“It’s almost perfect.” 

“Only almost perfect?” Carlos chuckled. 

You hummed as you rolled further into Carlos' side, tucking yourself into him as tightly as you possibly could. Carlos' hand moved from the top of your shoulder to your waist, allowing his head to rest down against the top of yours with a kiss against it for extra comfort. 

“Now it’s perfect,” you whispered, resting your hand against Carlos' chest. “I think I could stay here forever with how sleepy I feel right now.” 

“I just can’t believe you’re here,” Carlos chuckled, keeping his eyes on you, watching you closely. “I was all prepared to fall asleep in this big bed all by myself tonight, wishing that you were here with me. And now here you are, as if you knew just how much I wanted to have you here.” 

It was the surprise of a lifetime for Carlos never expecting you to be there. The excitement he felt when he opened his hotel room door to see you stood before him was a feeling that he knew would not be matched for some time. 

Carlos never took for granted the sacrifices that you made for him, for most of the week you’d called him and told him about how tired and stressed work had left you, yet you still found the energy to fly out and make sure that you were there for him. 

“I don’t have to be at the track until lunch tomorrow, so we’ve got plenty of time to lay here and make sure that you catch up on all your sleep too,” Carlos informed you, keeping his fingers tracing along your skin. 

You nodded in response, too tired to muster up a proper reply. However as you began to think about tomorrow, you couldn’t help but begin to worry about all the logistics that came with being a driver’s girlfriend. 

“Will they let me in tomorrow? We haven’t organised a pass or anything,” you reminded Carlos , your voice a faint whisper that he could only just understand. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all under control,” Carlos assured you, “whilst you were in the bathroom, I made all the necessary calls and made sure you have access for everywhere for the whole weekend.” 

There was nowhere else that Carlos wanted you than by his side now that you were there. As soon as he saw you, he knew what he had to do, and luckily for him, Ferrari was always incredibly accommodating to you.  

The longer that time passed, Carlos could see you struggling to stay awake more and more. “Rest, sleepy bug,” Carlos told you, not wanting you to stay awake just for him. 

“That’s a new one,” you chuckled at the surprise new nickname that came from Carlos . He was forever creating new names for you, toying with finding ones that he knew would stick. 

The smile on your face was everything that Carlos needed to know that this was yet another nickname that he could add to his least of ones to use and surprise you with when you least expected them. They were nicknames that he would never share with anyone else, keeping them safe between just the two of you, not quite wanting to show that side of him to the rest of the world. 

“You need to sleep,” Carlos smirked as your voice perked up once again, “I can’t begin to imagine how tired you must be after all the work and travelling you’ve done over the past few days, you must be insane.” 

“It’s worth it,” you assured him, “being here to cheer you on is always my favourite thing to do.” 

Yet another kiss was planted to the top of your head as Carlos spoke, “I don’t think I’ve really told you yet just how much it means to me to have you here, I can’t believe you came here for me, no one’s done anything like this for me before.” 

“I’m your biggest fan, I’ve got to be here,” you reminded him, pressing gently against his toned chest. “It’s worth it for all these moments anyway, when I get to have you all to myself.” 

Carlos hummed in agreement with you, “these are the moments that mean the most, like it’s only the two of us who exist in this crazy world.” 

“That would be nice,” you laughed, “but unfortunately I have to share you with thousands of fans.” 

“None of them compare to you though.” 

“So cheesy,” you teased, feeling Carlos jab in against your side. “I wonder how you do it sometimes.” 

Carlos' eyes rolled at your remark, knowing exactly what you were like. You loved to make fun of him, tease him, but he would never want for it to be any other way. As silence descended once again, Carlos felt your body relax in his hold, the sign he needed to know that you were feeling sleepy once again.  

“Close your eyes,” Carlos instructed, tilting his head to make sure that he could see you doing so. “As much as I love you, I don’t want to talk to you anymore, I just want to make sure that you’re finally getting the rest that you deserve.” 

Your head shook against Carlos' chest, “that’s rude,” you teased, hearing him scoff above you. 

“I said I love you,” he laughed, “but you’re so sleepy, it’s what you need.” 

“I’ll sleep if you sleep,” you suggested, “you’ve got a pole position to achieve tomorrow, it’s the least you could do considering I’ve flown all the way out here for you.” 

“I’ll make sure that I’m pole just for you,” Carlos whispered, making his promise to you, “knowing you’re cheering me on in the garage will be the boost I’ll need to get it too.” 

You never doubted Carlos' ability, knowing just how capable he was to get his car at the front of the grid. 

“Come on sleepy bug,” Carlos smiled, “goodnight my love.” 

“Goodnight Carlos.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[sincerelyneo]

hiii can you repost hello angel? as a jaemin girl it was one of my favorite fics everrrr i read it everyday fr😭❤️

hey angel | n.jm

“i come alive when i hear your voice, it’s a beautiful sound”

💿now playing: hey angel by one direction

❯ summary: You're Jaemin's best friend - so of course he loves to call you up late at night and hear your voice. He's definitely not calling because the sound of your voice turns him on - yeah definitely not that.

❯ pairings: jaemin x fem!reader

❯ genre: friends to lovers, smut, fluff.

❯ words: 3.7k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation, slight possessiveness?, begging, praise, heavy use of nicknames, reader uses she/her pronouns, just pure filth tbh, jaemin has a voice kink??

It was late and you were already in bed, snuggled deep and cozy in the sea of your blankets, when your best friend Jaemin called. He’s your closest friend and the person you were more than a little bit in love with — but you’d never risk telling him for fear of it ruining your friendship.

So even though it was late, and you were sleepy, you answered his call. To be fair, he’d answered plenty of your late-night phone calls over the years.

“Hey angel,” Jaemin greets in an eager tone.

You can hear the alcohol in his voice — that and Jaemin only ever used that nickname for you when he’d been drinking. Still, it never fails to send warmth curling through your heart. It felt like it was his way of wrapping you up in his strong arms whilst he wasn’t with you. 

“Annngelll,” your best friend continues in singsong, making you giggle softly. 

Jaemin’s voice sounds rough and gravelly, like he’d been shouting over a crowded bar all night. Which wasn't a surprise since it was his friend Jeno’s birthday tonight. And you knew your charming and extroverted best friend would never pass up the chance of a good time. 

Before you could respond to his greetings, Jaemin’s tone suddenly turned serious. “I missed you tonight.”

“Na Jaemin,” you try to match his quick change of mood, attempting a serious tone. But it was a losing battle as you tried to fight against the smile threatening to let loose at his statement. “You’re drunk—I bet you barely noticed I wasn’t there tonight.”

He grumbles and you hear fabric rustle like he was flopping back on his bed. You can’t help but imagine what he currently looked like: his body probably sprawled out on top of his comforter, the strands of his hair falling into his face as his head propped up on his pillows. He probably had one hand behind his head, his bicep bulging while his other hand held the phone to his ear.

You know it’s wrong, but your mind wonders if he was still in his clothes from the night or if he’d stripped down—knowing the fact that your best friend liked to sleep in his boxers.

But you were also familiar with intoxicated Jaemin, he likely hadn’t changed out of his clothes yet, too drunk, and tired to care. Still, that didn’t stop you from thinking about your best friend laying in his bed shirtless while he talked to you. 

“I may have had a couple drinks,” he admits grudgingly. “But of course, I missed my angel. I swear—cross my heart and hope to die—I was a good boy tonight,” he says with enough conviction that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“You’re silly, Jaem.” There’s a warmth in your voice, and you have no hope of wiping the smile from your face even if you tried. 

Pulling the phone away from your ear to check the time, you felt bad and ask, “Why are you calling?”

A long, loud sigh came through the phone from your best friend. “I wanted to hear your voice,” he explains after a silent moment.

It was a cute sentiment, making you feel warm all over, and you wished you could talk to him longer. “Jaem,” you start, gentling your voice. “It’s late and you know I have to get up early. So, if that’s all, I’m going to hang up.”

“But I can’t sleep,” he whines, and you could hear the pout in his voice. Without even seeing his face, you knew he was deploying his puppy dog eyes. “Just talk to me for a few minutes, angel, please?”

“Fine,” you say with another sigh, folding instantly at the thought of imagining his gentle expression asking you. He’d learned long ago it was a sure way to make you give in. You’d fallen sucker to Jaemin’s big brown eyes, and he knew exactly how to use them. 

Resigning yourself to being tired at work the next day, you settled deeper into your pillows. Your voice gentle as you got comfortable. “But you can’t hold it against me if I fall asleep,” you warn.

“Deal.” His smugness at getting you to agree so easily was loud and clear through the phone even if you couldn’t see his self-satisfied smile. “How was your day, angel?” he asks as his bed sheets rustled again and you presumed he was settling in too.

Tired, but always happy to talk to your best friend, you told him about your day and complained about why you had to get up early the next morning. Your voice turns softer and sweeter as you get more and more tired. Jaemin’s does the same, getting even deeper and more husky as he told you about his day. Eventually, there was a lull in the conversation, and you were about to tell him good night when he said something that surprised you enough to drag you away from the edge of sleep.

“Have I ever told you how hard your sleepy little voice makes me?” he asks, making a sound like he was biting back a groan. “I love calling you before you fall asleep, but I always gotta rub one out after.”

“Jaemin,” you say, voice going for stern, but not quite hitting the mark since it was still laced with sleepiness. “That is not true.”

“It is!” he insists, sounding more awake by the minute—and you were right there with him. “I’m hard right now.” He makes a soft sound, like a grunt.

Before you could stop yourself, you imagined him— still sprawled out on his bed — but this time he had a bulge in his jeans. In your mind’s eye, Jaemin grips his hard length through his jeans, stroking himself roughly. The thought makes you gasp softly, and you clench your thighs together against a sudden pulse in your core.

Jaemin must’ve heard the sound because you could hear the grin in his voice when he speaks again. “Tell me, angel, are you wearing one of my shirts tonight?” he asks gruffly.

You swallow heavily, trying to buy yourself some time. It felt like crossing a line to admit that you were wearing one of his shirts, but when Jaemim didn’t take the question back, you realise you’d had to answer. 

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Which one?” His voice is rough now, like sandpaper, but oh so eager.

“One of your varsity shirts from college—the one that says ‘Jaemin’ on the back,” you answer, unable to lie to your best friend even if you were a little shy to admit you still sleep in his shirts. You knew you didn’t need to be, since he clearly knew you slept in them. 

“I love it when you wear my shirts, angel,” Jaemin confesses. His tone now warm, like he was grinning and happy. It makes the last of your shyness disappear to hear him say that. 

“It lets everyone know you’re mine.”

“I’m not yours, Jaemin,” you protest half-heartedly. 

You weren’t, even if you desperately wanted to be his in every sense of the word.

“You’re my best friend,” he says, like there was no argument you could come up with to change his mind. “My best girl—that makes you mine.”

“Jaemin,” you exhale. 

You knew he was just talking about friendship, but you wished his words meant something different. You wished he felt the same way for you as you did for him.

“Fuck, say my name like that again,” he begs in a gruff voice. “Makin’ me so damn hard.”

You feel the blush rise to your cheeks and you go flustered, unsure what to do as Jaemin easily crosses lines you’d avoided delicately for years. But you didn’t want him to stop. The sound of his voice saying those things had wetness pooling between your thighs. So, you gave him what he wanted.

“Jaemin,” you repeat his name, voice breathier with your arousal, and he let out a happy hum.

“That’s my girl,” he says followed by a groan that is so low and husky, sending tingles racing through your entire body. “Fuck, I’m so hard,” he moans, a slight strain in his voice. “Do you mind, angel?”

It took a moment for your hazy mind to figure out what he was asking. Then, another to process that he was asking if you were okay with him stroking himself while he was on the phone with you. Your breath caught from a sudden surge of excitement. The voice that typically stops you from crossing the line with your best friend was conveniently quiet and all that was left was your need for him.

“I-I don’t mind, Jaem,” you answer softly, trying not to sound too eager.

The sound of him pulling down the zipper of his jeans was loud enough that you could hear it through the phone — and that alone sent a shiver down your spine. It was nothing, though, in comparison to the rough groan he makes as he grips his cock in his hand. 

“Fuck,” he curses.

You could feel yourself getting slicker from the sounds of him stroking himself. Distantly, you knew you were crossing a line by listening to him, by getting off on hearing your best friend pleasure himself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Instead, you found yourself holding your breath as you strained to hear him.

“What else are you wearing besides my shirt, angel?” his voice octaves lower than normal. The sound of it makes you squirm, your thighs clenching together harder. 

Biting your lip, you debated for a second whether to answer truthfully. You didn’t want to lie to your best friend and, you rationalise, you’d already crossed the line, hadn’t you?

“Just panties,” you whisper. 

You trail your hand down your chest over his shirt to toy with the hem where it had ridden up around your hips. Your fingers were dangerously close to slipping under the waistband your best friend had become oh so curious about.

“Just panties? Fucking hell, angel. What colour are they, huh?” He questions in his deep, rough voice.

You swallow thickly, wondering if he could hear how hot and bothered he was making you. You wonder if he knew you were so close to playing with yourself by the way your breath was getting faster. But you couldn’t stop yourself from answering. 

“They’re pink,” you say softly. 

“Angel,” Jaemin groans, thickened with need. “Fuck, I wanna bury my head between your thighs and kiss every single inch of you until you’re writhing under me, begging me to tear those panties off you.”

It was your turn to groan, and when you say, “Jaemin,” on a sharp exhale, you sound even more needy than anything else. Your fingers brushing over the hem of your panties, teasing yourself with whether or not you should dip beneath the fabric and touch yourself.

“You like that idea, angel?” He asks, a grin in his voice. “Like thinking about my mouth so close to your pussy.”

At his words, you couldn’t help but picture the scene. His head navigating between your legs, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you open so he could follow through on his promise. It was all too easy to imagine the way he’d look at you, mischief sparkling in his brown eyes as he slowly, teasingly kissed your mound over your panties, tongue sneaking out to lick the pink material. The picture he painted had you squirming in your bed. 

You couldn’t take it anymore, your fingers finally sliding into your panties, finding your pussy wet and swollen and needy.

When you don’t respond except with a sharp gasp, Jaemin asks, “Are you touching yourself?” 

His voice turns seductive. “You have to tell me if you are, angel—best friends tell each other this sort of thing. I have to know when you’re fingering your needy little cunt.”

“Oh god, Jaemin,” you cry softly, your breaths coming harsher. But you don’t for a second consider hiding what you were doing from your best friend. “Yes, I’m t-touching myself.”

“Good girl,” he praises, making warm pride curl through your chest as more wetness flooded your core. “Touch that pretty pussy for me.”

“H-how would you know it’s pretty?” you ask on a gasp, forcing the question out between hitching breaths as you slowly trace a finger around your dripping hole, teasing yourself and making you wetter.

“Because everything about you is pretty, angel. The way you laugh at me when I’m drunk, the way you bite your lip when you’re unsure, the way you look at me… fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.”

Your finger pauses and you suck in a deep breath, thoughts running chaotically. Jaemin had never complimented you like this before, and you couldn’t help yourself from asking a question you desperately wanted an answer to. 

“How do I look at you, Jaemin?” you ask in a small voice, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in the expression he’d just mentioned.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” he teases. “You look up at me, giving me the dirtiest fuck me eyes possible. Fluttering your pretty eyelashes like you’re begging me to bend you over every surface and stuff you full of my cock.” 

“Jaemin,” you cry out in a little sob, emotions and arousal swirling through your body completely overwhelming you for a moment. 

“I know angel,” Jaemin’s voice is soothing and deep. “I know you give those eyes to me.” 

He paused for a moment and all you could hear was his deep, steady breathing. 

“Because you’re mine, yeah?” There was a thread of uncertainty in his question, and it made your heart thump in response.

“Yeah,” you agree without hesitation, without protest. “I’m yours, Jaemin.” 

“Good,” he declares. Without giving you time to fully process what had just transpired between the two of you, Jaemin continues speaking, his voice diving an octave lower and growing rough. “Now slide one of your fingers into that pretty pussy of yours.” 

It was so easy to listen to him, to give yourself over to his command. Letting his deep voice reverberate in your head, heat curling all through your body down to the tips of your toes, as you press one of your fingers into your wet hole. A soft moan tumbles from your lips and you knew Jaemin heard it from the way he sucks in a breath.

“That’s it, angel, being so good for me,” his breaths coming harsher down the phone line. “Tell me how it feels.”

You sink into the sensations and the sound of his voice, letting your eyes fall closed. You feel like you’re floating in the soft sea of your bed as you pull your finger out and thrust it back inside your pussy. 

“Feels so good,” you answer in another moan.

Jaemin responds with a groan of his own. “Bet you’re fucking tight,” he says, breath heavy and raw. “Bet you’re clenching down on your little finger, aren’t you?”

Like your body was trained to respond to his voice, your pussy clenches around your finger at his words and you let out a hitching moan. But Jaemin doesn’t stop talking. His deep, hoarse voice fills your ears and makes you hotter and hotter.

“Fuck, angel, keep going—keep fingering that wet pussy for me while I stroke my dick to those sweet little sounds you make,” he urges, as he bit back his groans. You moan and gasp in response to his filthy words. “Fuckin’ hell, I wish it was your warm cunt gripping me right now, clenching hard around my thick cock while I fuck you.”

“Please,” you beg, not sure what exactly you were asking for but knowing you didn’t want him to stop talking. You add another finger to your dripping hole, crying out at the slight stretch.

“Would you like that, angel?” he asks, managing to fill his tone with teasing even as his heavy breaths gave away how turned on, he was. “Tell me—fucking tell me,” he prompts when you don’t respond, too busy fucking yourself with your fingers to the sound of his voice.

A whine forces itself out of your lungs, the simple command sounding so filthy from your best friend’s mouth. “Yes, Jaem,” you whimper an answer between your gasping breaths. “Want you to fuck me.”

“Fuck—fuck,” he groans almost painful. “The next time I see you, that pussy is mine. Gonna bury my face between your thighs and make you come on my tongue,” he promises. “Then I’m gonna shove my cock deep in your cunt and fuck you stupid.”

“Jaemin,” you sob out his name, fucking yourself harder as you picture your best friend hovering over you while you lay in his bed. You imagine how his body would start fucking you into the mattress, his cock buried deep in your pussy, your arms and legs wrapped around him — anything to be close to him. 

Through the phone, you hear the soft sound of Jaemin fucking himself into his own fist, the strain in his voice every time he spoke. 

Imagining your best friend sprawled on his bed, jeans open just enough for him to have his cock out, gripping and pumping his length roughly with his eyes squeezed shut. Thinking about him like that makes you whimper.

“Fuck—I can’t stop thinking about how pretty you’d look while I fuck you, angel,” he murmurs. “Wanna see my cock stretch you while I pound into you, wanna see your pretty lips swollen from my kisses as you moan for me, wanna see your eyes go all hazy as you get stupid on my cock.”

As he speaks, your thumb circles your clit and you moan loudly into the phone. Your best friend’s filthy words make your pussy clench down hard on your fingers as you get closer and closer to your release. 

“Don’t stop, Jaem, please don’t stop,” you beg breathlessly. Jaemin lets loose a deep groan in response to your desperate plea, the sound making your thighs clamp down hard around your hand. You wish your legs were wrapped around his waist instead of your wrist.

“Fuck your pussy, angel, nice and hard.”

You cry out as you force a third finger, making yourself stretch to take the intrusion. 

“That’s it, that’s my good girl, fuck yourself stupid to the sound of my voice,” he encourages. 

Even with how far gone you are, you can hear the cocky grin in his tone, but your body just flushes and clenches tight in response. Desperately, you fuck yourself harder, hips rocking into your hand, mind drowning in lust as you gasp and moan into the phone. Knowing he can hear you only urges you not to hold back. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jaemin groans loudly, his breath coming in sharp pants. “Keep making those cute little sounds for me, my cock is aching for you—fuck!” The cockiness in his tone fades into desperation. 

“Jaemin,” his name tumbles past your lips. 

You’d said your best friend’s name countless times over the years, but never like this—never with your fingers buried deep in your cunt wishing it was his thick cock.

“Jaem, I need…” you trail off, not even knowing what you need, just knowing he was the only one who could give it to you.

“You need my cock, don’t you?” You can hear the way his grin curls at the edges of his mouth. “Need my cock just like I need your pussy.” He bit off the end of his sentence with a groan. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come,” he moans. “Gonna come so hard to your sweet little moans, angel.”

You gasp and your back arches off your bed when you rub your thumb roughly over your clit. You moan so shamelessly for your best friend. “So close.” 

“When I fuck you,” he starts, cutting himself off abruptly as he groans again. “When I fuck you, angel, I’m gonna make you come so hard on my cock,” he promises, voice rough and deep you swear you can feel the pleasure from the sound shooting from your ear directly to your clit. “And while you’re screaming my name and coming all over my dick, I’m gonna bury myself in that sweet pussy and pump you full of my load—you want my come, angel?”

“Yes, Jaemin, please come inside me, fill me up,” you babble, so close to your own release you barely know what you’re saying. 

“That’s it. That’s my slutty little angel, begging for my come.” He groans, stroking himself faster. “Come for me, come for your best friend,” he commands, pausing to moan lowly. “Tell me who you belong to.” 

“I’m yours, Jaemin, all yours,” you cry out. With one more deep thrust of your fingers, the heel of your hand grinding against your clit, you come apart. 

You moan loudly as waves of pleasure surged through you, consuming you. Your limbs shaking as you wrench every ounce of pleasure from your release, fucking yourself through it as you breathe fast and harsh.

“That’s my good girl. Coming so sweetly for me, so perfect.” He grunts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! You made me come so fucking hard, angel,” he mumbles, a little breathless.

Since you hadn’t fully regained control over your body, you just hummed in delight. You were still riding the aftershocks of your orgasm, your lips turned in a smile while you listened to Jaemin catching his breath.

“Like hearing me come apart for you?” He teases the question. “Wish you were here to clean up the mess you made.” 

“Jaem,” you try to put some reproach into your voice but fail miserably as you giggle. 

“Don’t worry, you can help the next time I see you.”

The line goes quiet for a moment, the two of you gathering yourselves together. “You’re still my best girl, right?” he finally asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “I’m your girl.”

“That’s good to hear,” he murmurs, sighing contentedly, and you can tell he was starting to drift off. “Because all of me is yours, angel. And I plan on showing you that when I’m back.”

[sickwhispers]

helloo!! could i request a twisted astro x a very sleepy toon reader? :3 like they just have habits of falling asleep everywhere no matter what even during chases with other twisted?

of course no pressure with writing! ^_^ have a good day or night !

Don't worry it's no pressure at all! You astro fans understand me deeply. (Also dw I got your other ask as well, the standard format for x reader requests are headcanons unless someone specifically asks for something else like a one-shot)

BEDTIME ROUTINE

Pairing: (Twisted) Astro x reader

Relationship: romantic

Warning: he might sound a little stalker-ish, reader isn't fully comfortable with his twisted form yet

Type: headcanons + drabble

Twisted Astro no longer wears that same signature cornflower blue blanket anymore

It's not that he doesn't like it or that the ichor had ruined its quality beyond repair

It's just that he was better things to use it for now

He always kept it wrapped around your figure, practically covering every aspect of your body besides a little pocket that allowed you to breathe comfortably

he always made sure to keep you hidden

he knew how dangerous the other twisted could be, and because of that, it had become his number one priority to keep you safe and sound

although before he had gotten used to your sleepy nature, there was a lot of concern surrounding how many times he had found you passed out somewhere on the floor

at first, he had debated if you had some kind of sleeping disorder like narcolepsy

but after a while, he had found out it was just how you were

that didn't reassure his worries completely, though

part of him was thankful you were always sleeping

despite how guilty he felt about that tiny little pleasure

he knew he was scary

he's seen the fear in your eyes

it had been so long since you've smiled his way

but when you were asleep, it was almost like you trusted him again

he's no longer the same Astro you've known all those years

a voice in the back of his head keeps trying to convince him that if you just see how much he cares for you

how many times he's wrapped you up in a blanket and shielded you from the world outside your dreams

that you'd realize just how much he truly loves you

you'd finally realize that he'd rather face a brutal death than ever allow anything to harm you

maybe he's just too shy to outright say that

but part of him can't help but hope that he wouldn't have to

that everything would fall into place, and you'd come to that realization yourself

It didn't take too long before the twisted had lost their interest in you. The blaring sound of an airhorn had captured its attention quick enough to leave your resting body unharmed. And, with the sound fading into nothing, he made sure to be gentle when holding you close. You had been lucky enough to run into a twisted with a low attention span, and he had been lucky enough to get to you in time before your death could become a possibility.

Your chest rose and fell in an almost rhythmic motion, and if his mind still hadn't been panicking from the idea of losing you this floor, he would've taken the time to admire just how soft your snores were. But, there were still threats on this floor. As much as he would have loved to sit there and watch you sleep, he knew it was only a matter of time before another twisted came along and threatened your safety.

So, in the gentlest fashion, he wrapped your body up in the cornflower colored blanket he always did and wisked you off. He didn't know when you'd wake up from this little nap of yours, and despite how guilty it made it him, he wished it wouldn't be until a few hours. He found comfort in holding you close to him. A comfort he hadn't felt in a long time.

It was cute with how tired you always were, and he was thankful it gave him an opportunity to hold you do tenderly in his two upper arms. He knew if you woke up you'd be terrified. It's happened before. It hurt him having to watch the way your eyes widened, the sound of your hasty breathing had been almost deafening as you tried to bite back a scream.

But for now, he'd have to take it slow. He'd have to ease you into this new form of his. He'd have to teach you that despite how grotesque the view of ichor dripping down from his eyes was, he could be gentle. He could be the same Astro you had loved before. You just needed time, He'd tell himself over and over. You just needed time.

And, until that time came, he'd continue to stay a silent savior. One unbeknownst to you as you slept soundly against him. You could sleep as long as you wanted on these floors. As long as he was with you, he'd protect you. He'd keep you safe.

He's almost too shy to give away the possibility of you knowing how you managed to survive so many floors for this long

With how many times you had just dropped to the floor mid-chase, the others would have assumed you'd be long gone

And yet, you continue to stay alive

[winterarmyy]

Sleepy Heads

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: That time when the reader accidentally fell asleep on a stranger’s shoulder in the subway ride home. The stranger in question, however, is none other than the former Winter Soldier, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

Words: 1.4k++

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: none? just a really short fluffy moment with bucky.

Inspiration: Commuting home via train after long day of work makes me wish i had a shoulder to lean on while on the journey. And so, this idea was born from that thought.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N’s gaze was empty, staring to the distance, seemingly being swallowed by the void within her headspace. She had another long day at work; like any other weekday, grinding through the endless lines of words for each of her client’s documents until her eyes blurred.

The platform was noisy, filled with the clamour of people, the distant roar of the approaching train, and the faint buzz of conversations. The lights above her head flicker occasionally, casting brief shadows that danced along the walls. 

The subway ride home was her daily ritual, one she usually endured standing among the crowded commuters. When she saw the train coming her way, relief washed over her. “Finally, I can go home,” she thought.

The doors slid open, and she was immediately pushed by the crowd behind her. It was as if her feet were lifted in the air, her body was effortlessly being dragged into the train. Since it  was rush hour, the train car was packed. She had expected that but still, she couldn’t help but to let out a long sigh of exhaustion.

She slipped and weaved through the mass of bodies, knowing that it’ll be pointless. There’s no way she could get a seat now; she had to endure the 40 minute ride standing on the ache of her feet. 

Her thoughts immediately stopped when she unexpectedly found an empty row of seats. Well, to be fair, there was one man sitting there, but regardless, it was empty enough for her to sit.

How fortunate she was.

A passing thought echoed in her head, questioning why it was empty, but she was too tired to think too deeply about it. The exhaustion from the long hours at work had dulled her curiosity, leaving her with just enough energy to be grateful for the peace and quiet. Too exhausted to question her luck, she sank into the seat, letting out a sigh of gratitude.

As she settled in, her mind couldn’t help but to dwell on the earlier question. Why does no one want to sit next to this man? She briefly considered the possibility that he might be a weird pervert or something. Thinking about it now made her slightly uncomfortable.

However, that discomfort didn’t last long as she overheard whispers around her, saying how brave she was to sit next to the Winter Soldier. Her eyes widened in realisation, and she discreetly glanced at him, noticing the telltale signs she had missed in her exhaustion: the gloved hands, the intense expression, the aura of danger that surrounded him. 

She had heard of him. James Buchanan Barnes. 

She studied about him in history class back when she was a school girl and saw him on the news in recent years. A member of the Howling Commandos. Steve Roger’s best friend. The Winter Soldier. The victim of Hydra’s atrocities.

Perhaps it was the fatigue numbing her instincts, or maybe it was the hint of vulnerability in his eyes that contradicted the ruthless image painted by the stories. Surprisingly, there was a burning sensation in her chest the more she heard the foul whispers around her. “These people really need to shut their mouths or…”  She didn’t finish the thought.

Honestly, she was too tired to care if the man next to her was the Winter Soldier or Captain America himself. She was simply grateful that he wasn’t some sort of creepy pervert.

Next to her sat a lone man, his posture tense and his gaze averted. James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, was accustomed to people avoiding him, their fear and whispers a constant reminder of his past. Today was no different, until Y/N sat down next to him without a second thought.

There were very few people who willingly sat this close to him: Sam, Mr. Nakajima, and perhaps his therapist. Strangers who were aware of him would never sit near him willingly. So when he saw her making a beeline towards him, he thought, “No way…” 

Now, he couldn’t help but be aware of her presence. 

Bucky straightened, expecting her to move away once she realised who he was. But she didn’t. She just sat there, her head lolling slightly as she fought to stay awake.

Bucky stole glances at her, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the way she seemed to radiate exhaustion . He noticed how her weary seemed to mirror his own, although for completely different reasons; hers from long hours of work, his from long hours of sleepless nights. 

Despite her weariness, there was a quiet beauty about her that captivated him.

His eyes widened in realisation that he’d been staring at her. He noticed the concerned looks of the people around them as they caught him, their thoughts clear on their faces.

He chastised himself for staring. “Stop it, Bucky. You’re being a creep.” But he couldn’t help it. When her head finally drooped and she fell asleep, he felt a pang of concern.

“Where’s her stop?” 

“What if she misses it?”  

“What if someone tries to take advantage of her while she’s sleeping?”

As the train jolted, her head swayed dangerously close to the pole beside her. Instinctively, Bucky’s metal arm shot out, catching her head before it hit. She didn’t stir, her breathing steady and soft; he could feel how close her body was to his own.

Bucky froze, his body tensing as he tried to process the situation. His eyes widened; he didn’t know why but he felt his heart racing in his chest. 

Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, her head lolled to the opposite side, landing gently on his shoulder. He felt a surge of panic, his breath hitching, but then she snuggled closer, her hands roamed along his right hand until her arms wrapped around his like he was a pillow. 

Bucky’s heart continued to race, violently.

He felt a blush creeping up his neck, his eyes widening in surprise. His fists balled up into tight, clenched knots as he felt the softness of her breasts gently squishing his biceps in between them. “Oh god, what do I do now?” he panicked.

But time passed, feeling her steady heartbeat and the warmth of her body pressed against him, he found himself relaxing. 

He began to notice the faint scent of vanilla that clung to her, a soft contrast to the sterile, metallic smell he had grown used to. Her breathing, initially steady, became slower and deeper; a rhythmic sound that somehow soothed his frayed nerves. He could see the faint traces of paper cuts on her fingers, remnants of a long day at work.

Despite her obvious fatigue, there was a certain grace in the way she moved, a gentle determination that intrigued him. Her soft, steady breathing started to sync with his own, creating a strange sense of calm that he hadn't felt in a long time. He admired the delicate curve of her eyelashes, the way her lips parted slightly as she went deeper into slumber. 

This simple act of trust, falling asleep next to him, a man feared by so many, stirred something deep within him. It was a small, fleeting moment of normalcy that he found himself cherishing against his better judgement.

He relaxed into the seat, allowing himself to savour the unexpected comfort of her presence and touch. He decided to let her sleep. As the time passed, the crowd around them began to lessen.

The previously hostile atmosphere of the train car softened, and the once frenetic energy of the rush hour turned into a more subdued, calming environment. The stares and whispers faded into the background as Bucky's attention became entirely focused on the woman resting beside him.

His own fatigue began to catch up with him, his eyes grew heavy, a rare sensation for him these days. And before he knew it, his cheek was resting gently against her head, and he was drifting off too. His plans and destination were long forgotten, overshadowed by the soothing presence of the woman clinging to his arm. 

He didn't mind if they both missed their stop; the thought of walking her home crossed his mind. Maybe he could introduce himself properly, maybe ask her out on a date, and see if she wouldn’t mind spending more time with him.

The idea, though fleeting, brought a sense of warmth and contentment he hadn’t felt in years. When his consciousness drifted further into the dreamland, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

And in the end, as the train continued its journey, people left the sleepy heads in their peaceful slumber, content in the rare moment of tranquility they had found together. End.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading this very short drabble! Hope you enjoyed it ♡

[m30wk1ttycat]

maze runner masterlist !

› updated: 30.11.24, masterlist w all my other works

★ - masc!reader ☆ - fem!reader ✮ - gn!reader

characters:

𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚

☆ i love you - brenda just randomly saying 'i love you' to her best friend.

𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲

✮ gally's runner - you're not sure how to apologize to him after an argument about you volunteering to be a runner.

✮ rainy day - you teach gally how to braid your hair on a random, very boring, rainy day.

𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐭

★ wish you were sober - newt is drunk, and confesses to the person he tries to hate, only that he's too drunk to realize it.

✮ whoops! - you and newt get caught cuddling. feat. minho and thomas <3

✮ first and last 'i love you' - you confess to newt, but it's too late.

✮ stay? - newt takes care of you after you witnessed your friend's death.

✮ early bird - the box arrives too early, and the only glader awake is newt.

✮ pretty face - sucking him off in the deadheads. (incase you haven't noticed, this is smut. minors, NO. bad kids. I WILL BE INFORMING YOUR PARENTS :3)

✮ blondie - sleepy newt being clingy.

✮ flowers - newt giving you flowers ! (headcanon)

✮ double trouble - sonya and newt take care of you when you get sick. (platonic?)

✮ failed attempt - your attempts at comforting him were - quite frankly - futile.

✮ the not so subtle note passing - newt slips you a note during a keepers meeting.

✮ newt hcs because i was bored - pretty self explanatory.

✮ tough love - he confronts the med-jack, who's been acting as if he put all of them in the maze. (kinda nsfw lol)

✮ sleepyhead - newt being affectionate while you two cuddle in his bunk in the wckd facility.

✮ next time - newt being more rough during make-outs with his darling in the early stages of the flare infection)

✮ kiss me hard before you go - one last kiss before he goes on the mission to save minho.

★ dizzy - and not in the good way - newt gets really queasy when it comes to blood. his boyfriend, a slicer, who's always bloody in some way after his shifts at the blood house, adores to tease him about it (and then he feels really bad about doing it).

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨

✮ make up, not make out! - apparently, he 'misheard' you.

✮ minho tripping you just for shits and giggles - headcanon :3

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐚

✮ double trouble - sonya and newt take care of you when you get sick. (platonic?)

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐬

☆ drunken greenie - thomas being moody when he's drunk.

✮ angel - as much as vince tells him that he needs to rest and recover from everything they've been through, thomas is too stubborn and asks gally if he can help the builders. thomas, however, manages to get injured during the job, too distracted by a certain someone, and finds himself contemplating his, admittedly, very bad decisions.

✮ dionaea muscipula - after a long, exhausting run, thomas still somehow finds the energy to sink his teeth into his beloved's flesh. (tw, slight biting kink!!)

✮ tommy's own personal human heater - how thomas likes to warm his hands up, feat. gn!reader!

✮ ridiculous - while attempting to run from his problems, he only causes more. (this isn't angst, sorry, angst lovers)

✮ the blind leading the blind-er - when a tiny little crush starts to turn into something so much more, thomas is too awkward to say it out loud, so he keeps giving not-so-subtle hints. of course, minho, his best friend keeps reassuring him that you picked up on his hints. (you didn't.)

✮ be my baby? - what should've been common knowledge by now still manages to shock you whenever you witness it.

✮ thomas with reader on their period

..𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 ! i lied. no longer writing for this fandom soz diva

[jumexju]

SHAPE OF MY HEART

Pairing !! : Uchiha Madara / Fem Reader

Fic Type !! : Oneshot / Angst to Fluff / Hurt-Comfort

CW !! : Established relationship, Reader is a mother, Suggestive near the end but nothing 18+

Summary !! : After an argument due to Madara's inability to communicate, you try to prepare yourself for him to leave you ー only to find he's not leaving you.

Note !! : This man singlehandedly compelled me to write a 3k+ word fic, I might make this into a series tbh..

✦ MASTERLIST

‘I wish you’d try to communicate with me instead of just telling me not to worry!’ 

You winced as you recalled your words, the blanket over your frame failing to provide the comfort you needed. 

‘Not just for me, but for your children! They need you and you’re always gone — I know you’re busy but the least you could do is tell me what’s going on!’ 

The moonlight slipped in through the open door of the genkan. Madara hadn’t come home. In fact, your husband hadn’t been home for the last three nights in a row. He’s done this before — take some time for himself after an argument — but he’d usually never let you go to bed feeling anxious or worried. No, usually, Madara would force you to acknowledge his presence — even if you were mad. Sighing, you buried  your face into one of his shirts in an attempt to comfort yourself in the absence of the man you loved so much. You let another hour pass by before accepting that he wasn’t returning tonight either and choosing to try to get some sleep. 

The sun was the first to greet you when morning came. Its rays bathed everything it touched in its warmth — but it wasn’t comparable to the warmth you had grown attached to. Madara’s warmth was all you wanted, but you had to realize that he wasn’t your entire world anymore, not with your children now in the picture. You had to be strong if Madara was going to be gone for a long time — Sure, it was only four nights that he hadn’t been back home, but you’d be damned if you let his absence affect your kids in any way. “It’s not the end of the world,” you told yourself in an attempt to lift your spirits, a determined look on your face as you cleaned up the kitchen and prepared to make breakfast. 

“What isn’t?” Your eldest, Mahaira, rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he walked into the kitchen. 

You froze, turning around and smiling nervously as you put your hands up in defense, “Nothing ! I just realized that we don’t have any pork,”

Mahaira narrowed his eyes at you before yawning and greeting you with a hug, “Do you want me to go buy some later?” he offered, his voice sounding sleepy since he wasn’t really a morning person — Just one more thing he had in common with his father. 

“You’re always so helpful,” You squeezed the boy tightly, a bright smile on your face. “But no, you have some studying to do after school today. Your teacher tells me you’ve been skipping class.” You looked down at the thirteen year old, your eyebrow lifted as you saw his guilty expression. 

Mahaira frowned, “You found out?!” 

You smacked his shoulder playfully and crossed your arms with a smirk on your face, “Of course I did, I’m your mother — I find out everything, eventually.” 

Mahaira held his head down in defeat, “.. Are you going to tell dad?” He asked you, worried eyes peering up at you pleadingly. You only chuckled and ruffled his spiky black hair, out of all your kids, Mahaira was the one who resembled Madara the most. But of course, Uchiha genes were nothing to laugh at — They were strong as all hell, so it was no surprise that all your children looked like their father in one way or another.

“No — Not if you catch up on your studying, I won’t.” Mahaira’s face lit up, your heart warming at the sight of it. It was like seeing a mini Madara right in front of you. 

“Speaking of dad, where is he?” Mahaira looked around, realizing he hadn’t seen him as of late. 

You frowned, “.... He’s busy.” you looked away from your son, not wanting to face him. 

However, it seemed that he inherited his fathers sharp intuition. Mahaira’s black eyes narrowed at you before widening in realization. “He still hasn’t come home?? Jeez mom.. You should both just kiss and make up already.” Mahaira shook his head in faux disapproval, even crossing his arms to take it further. 

“Kiss and wha-!? Mahaira!” You stared at your son in surprise, heat rushing to your face. “Nevermind that, go wake up your sisters.. !” Mahaira snickered at your embarrassed expression and walked away to his sisters’ room smugly. You turned your attention back to the counter and cracked the eggs you’d brought out beforehand, whisked them in a bowl and poured them over the pan. Truthfully, you’d missed Madara. He’d always wake up before you, but he’d pretend to be asleep when you woke up just so he could feel your hands thread through his hair. Whenever you were cooking, he’d come up behind you and encase you in his arms.. Even if they were small actions, the fact that they came from him was all that mattered. 

You, like Madara, grew up in an era where you weren’t even sure you’d see your children unplagued by the stresses of war. Now, you even got to see your kids all in one piece, together. All thanks to him.. Slowly, you found your mind trying to go back to thinking about your husband — But how were you to stop it? He was your husband, the father of your children.. How could you not think about him when he was away? It was an almost impossible task. But you knew you had to go on and wait for him, like you always did. After eating omelets with your kids, you sent Mahaira off to school. His two sisters, Mizuna and Mitsumi, would have to stay with you since they were still too young to go to the academy. If they were anything like their older brother, they’d be a handful once they got older. But you didn’t mind, as long as they grew up to be fine, respectable people. 

“Mama, what are you making tonight?” Mizuna looked up at you as you held her and her twin sister by the hand while the three of you walked around the market, a bright smile on their faces. 

“Mm.. I was thinking of pork cutlet,” you looked down at the twins, Mizuna’s eyes lighting up as she thought about the savory meal while she looked at the rows of different oils and spices on display. “We just need to get the pork and some oil and we’ll be set, okay?” The twins nodded and stood near the stall while they waited for you to pay for the oil, or at least, they tried to stay near you. However, when they saw the unmistakable mane of long black hair that so obviously belonged to their father, they couldn’t stay still. 

“Papa!” The girls called out before running to their father despite the very obvious guilt shown through your expression. Madara’s eyes widened in surprise as he laid his eyes upon you — but only for a short moment before he leaned down and picked up his 6 year old child, perching Mizuna up on his shoulders. His gloved hands rubbed Mitsumi’s back in acknowledgement as she hugged him. You looked away before he could see the pained look on your face and thanked the seller before begrudgingly walking over to the man who’d been occupying your mind for the past week. Mitsumi looked up at you and raised her arms up, her way of signaling for you to pick her up. You smiled and did as she asked, securing her on your hip before facing your husband. 

“...” 

“...” 

“Papa,” Madara glanced at Mitsumi, “Mama said she was gonna make pork cutlet today!” Mitsumi smiled brightly at her father, you could tell that she had missed Madara as much as you had when you saw her face. Madara looked back at you, despite how things were between the two of you, heat still rushed up to your face when his eyes met yours. 

“Is that so?” He sounded interested, but maybe that was because he was talking to his daughter and he wanted to hide the way that things were between the two of you. You only nodded in response. 

“.. Will you be home for dinner?” you asked the Uchiha as you tried to avoid his oh so beautiful eyes by fixing a piece of Mitsumi’s hair behind her ear. 

“Mm.” Madara was observant as ever. Unfortunately for you, he saw the guilt on your face no matter how much you tried to hide it. Madara wished to extinguish such anxiety from your features, but he knew it was probably due to his absence that you even felt that way. It was his fault for disappearing, no, avoiding you for five days in a row — almost a whole week. If you had been looking at him for a bit longer, maybe you would have seen how his gaze softened when he first saw you. “Yes, .. I’ll be home for dinner.” He told you, a small smile tugging at his lips. You looked up at him and you swear you could tear up just hearing those five words. Madara felt his heart warm at the sight of your relieved expression. It took you a while to snap back to reality and register that he was actually going to be home tonight. 

“O.. Oh.” You blinked, “Okay, then.. I should get going. You’re probably busy.” You bashfully looked away, putting Mitsumi back down so you could carry her sister after Madara had taken her off his shoulders and given her to you. 

Mizuna tugged at her father’s mantle, “Papa you better not be late..!” She warned. 

“Yeah! Mama gets really sad!” Mitsumi crossed her arms and looked at her father with determination. Madara blinked, he was surprised by this admission. 

You looked down at Mitsumi, embarrassed that Mitsumi just put you in a vulnerable position, “That’s not true- I do not get sad!” You tried to salvage your self-image, but unfortunately your efforts were in vain. 

“Do too!” Mizuna chimed in, determined to help her sister prove you wrong. 

“Do not!” 

“Do too!” They both said at the same time. You could feel your face getting hotter the more Madara witnessed this exchange. But it brought him nothing short of genuine happiness. You continued trying to win the argument with your children ( and failing ) until you heard Madara chuckle at the interaction. 

“Does mama really get sad when i’m not around, Mizuna?” He petted his daughter's hair as he asked this, as if to reward her for unknowingly giving this information away.

“Yes!” 

“No!” you objected. Madara only laughed some more — It was one of the things you’d missed hearing. If only you knew how much Madara missed you too. He didn’t know why he had been so reluctant to tell you that you were right, but he knew he didn’t want it to damage his marriage. He loved you too much to leave you, he hoped you knew that. You sighed in defeat and rubbed your neck, “You two are horrible liars.” 

“Lying is bad, Mama.” Mizuna shook her head in disapproval. 

“Yeah, Mama, lying is bad.” Madara repeated, smirking at your defeat. You stared at him unamused, “You better not be late.” You warned, trying to hide a smile before holding Mizuna’s hand. You were going to pick up the bag of groceries that you’d laid at your side before the whole interaction, but Madara took your hand in his — Forcing you to look him in the eye. He came close to you and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t keep you waiting anymore.” 

“Mom? You seem awfully happy…… What happened?” Mahaira asked as he tied his hair up into a low ponytail and greeted you with a hug and a kiss on your cheek. 

You lifted a brow at your son, a sly smirk on your face, “Do I need a reason to be happy?” 

“You know that’s not what I meant..” Mahaira protested at your accusation. He could sense you were in better spirits than when he last saw you this morning. However, you only ruffled his hair and snickered. “Nothing happened, Mahaira. Go wash your hands, it’s almost time for dinner.” You sent him out of the kitchen before calling your twin daughters to help you set up the table. It was as soon as Mizuna had placed the last plate that you all heard a knock on the door, your heart beat only got faster. Mahaira walked down the hall and smiled once he saw his father walk through the door. “Dad! You’re here..!” It was as if Madara was a magnet of some sort because as soon as Mahaira said this, Mizuna and Mitsumi raced to the door. You heard a hard Thump! and rushed to see what had happened, chuckling once you had seen what took place. 

It was Madara on the floor, tackled by his two twin daughters who were eagerly hugging him. “The Great Madara Uchiha brought down by his own children? Now there’s a sight I never thought I’d see.” You snickered as you looked down at your husband who was now sitting up and holding Mizuna and Mitsumi at his sides. You offered a hand to help him up but yelped once he tugged you forward, causing you to land on top of him. “Hey-! Madara, you- Mmph!” You grunted as you fell on him. 

“If I go down, you go down with me.” He snickered as he gazed down at you. Your knees were on either side of his thighs, you were currently holding onto his shoulders so that you wouldn’t completely fall on him again. He couldn’t lie, he missed you being close to him. You always radiated a warmth he didn’t know he needed. 

“Is that so?” you lifted a brow at him, a smirk on your face as you giggled when he greeted you with a kiss on your forehead. You were going to kiss him before Mahaira spoke up and interrupted, 

“Get a room, you two!” Madara and you looked at each other before laughing at your son’s reaction, deciding to save that kiss for later. You got up off of your husband and offered him a hand to help him up. He followed behind you, a subtle smile on his face as he looked down at his hand in yours, he didn’t fail to notice a chip in the nail polish you wore — He was ever the observant man. During dinner, you two avoided talking about the elephant in the room so as to not give your kids anything to worry about — But you both knew that you had to talk sooner or later. For now, you’d enjoy having your family together once again. Seeing your kids’ interactions with their father just warmed your heart even more, you weren’t sure if you could handle him leaving — If that’s what he wanted to do. Though, you doubted that line of thought since he was actually here, since.. he wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t thinking about mending things with you.. Right? You thanked Mahaira for washing his plate and ruffled his hair before sending him off to bed, the twins following suit. 

“So..” You tried to begin the conversation, but what were you supposed to say? Madara came up next to you, drying the dishes you washed and putting them in their place. He seemed calm, but when wasn’t he? You rarely ever see him lose his composure now that the Uchiha and the Senju weren’t at war anymore. You tried to find the words, but there wasn’t anything you could really say. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You blinked a couple times before you turned to your husband. He was already looking at you. “You..” you were at a loss for words. He was sorry? But what for? 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to talk to you sooner.” He clarified. “I needed some time.. To think about what you said-” 

“You’re not leaving me?” you interrupted him. He seemed confused at what you had said. 

“Leaving you? Why would I leave you?” He crossed his arms as he looked down at you in confusion. 

“Well- I thought that you were- uhm..” You felt incredibly stupid just now. 

Madara came close to you and cupped your cheek in his calloused hand, “I wouldn’t leave you over a small fight, _____.” 

You looked away, avoiding his stare. “You were gone for a week- I thought that you were planning to leave me..” you admitted quietly. Madara was frustrated that this was what his absence had led you to believe. Yes, it was a nasty fight that the two of you got into, but after being with you for fifteen years, he thought that you would know that he wouldn’t leave you over something as small as this. Without so much as a thought, he pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you. 

“You’re my wife, and the mother of my children. Don’t you ever think that I would leave you over a petty argument such as that.” He said it as if it was a demand, but he only meant to assure you that He would be with you until the end of time. He felt your hands grip his shirt, his heart breaking when he heard your uneven breathing. You pulled away a little to wipe your eyes, but he beat you to it, a fond smile on his face as he wiped your tears away with his thumb, “You were right about what you said.. I don’t want to miss out on their childhood — I want to be there for them, and for you.” He told you softly — A tone he rarely used with anyone else but you —  as he looked you in the eye. “I’ll try to be around more, okay?” 

You nodded before sheepishly glancing away from him, “I’m sorry for having yelled at you, by the way..” 

“It’s alright, I need that.” He admitted with a small smile, “You deserve to know what’s going on, I shouldn’t have made you worry.” 

You smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “I understand that you find it hard to express yourself — But know that you can rely on me, okay? ..I love you.” You smiled warmly at him, you hated that he kept things to himself, but what else could you do but support him? If he needed someone to wait for him until he was ready, you sure as hell were going to do just that. 

“I’ll try to.” He assured you before placing a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

 “I missed you a lot y’know,” you told him as the both of you walked to your room, hand in hand. 

“I missed you as well,” He said with a small smile as he followed after you. “It was a little annoying in actuality, I couldn’t go a minute without thinking about you.” 

“How romantic,” You chuckled sarcastically before getting under the sheets. They felt softer now that Madara was with you — if that was even possible. He settled underneath the sheets with you, his arm coming around your figure, making it so that your head rested against his chest. You splayed your arm across his stomach, tracing the scar on his left side as you nuzzled into him. You finally had your husband back, ..he was finally here with you. Right as soon as you were getting comfortable with the position you were in, Madara turned so that he was facing you, kissing your forehead, then your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips. You giggled at his sudden display of affection, “Jeez, did you really miss me that much?” you teased. 

He smirked, “I missed you a lot more actually,” he said before swiftly switching your positions so now you were underneath him, his hands intertwined with yours. You could feel the heat rushing to your face as you looked up at him, his black hair draping around the sides of his face. “Really?” You lifted a brow at him, a playful smirk on your face. 

“Of course,” he leaned down and adorned your neck in butterfly kisses. Madara was a rugged man, but he knew just how to make your heart melt. He planted kisses on your jaw before facing you once more.  “Care to make up for lost time?”

[ma1dita]

a wish your heart makes

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader prev -> play pretend | next -> star crossing words: 1.4k summary: (established relationship) The one where you share dreams, burn cookies, and it still reminds him of home. You try to do something nice for your boyfriend and everything goes wrong, or so you think. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader a/n: I thought about May Castellan, alone in her kitchen, baking cookies and making sandwiches for a son who would never come ho—OH FUCK OFF, UNCLE RICK. sidenote this haunted me. (posted 1/26/24 unbetad)

—

Luke’s dreams were always different from yours. 

Both when he’s awake and holding your hand up until sleep finally rips him away from your earthly embrace, he’s always been certain of who he was and what he wants to achieve. To be a hero providing salvation for the needy, to be a half-blood son worth the love of a god, and to be a fierce soldier, leading his troop into battle for glory. These are the thoughts he routinely pounds into his brain, so much so that anyone who knows him knows of his aspirations.

You don’t think you’ve ever met anyone so insistent on wanting to be remembered. Luke wants to leave a legacy worth dying for, worth talking about for millenia to come. And your boy persists, despite the trials of life, the ignorance of his father, and the strings of the Fates.

Your dreams, however, were always much simpler. 

Cuddled under your covers and brushing your lips against Luke’s forehead to quell the growing unease that occupies his brain, you whisper what you deeply wish for.

“We’re getting old,” you mumble, and the breath of his laugh tickles your ear. He lazily runs his nose against the slope of your collarbone, sighing when he finally hears the steady beat of your chest, “We’ve definitely surpassed the average life expectancy of a typical demigod. Look at us…” he jests.

Your breath jumps in amusement as you feel his lips against your sternum, and then your boyfriend is smiling against your heart, using you for comfort as you both pass the time waiting for Hypnos to come calling.

“In a year, we’ll be nineteen…And I know you never wanted to stay here forever, so… What’s next?”

You hold in a bated breath, always unsure of where to place yourself in rank of his priorities. Who were you if not his biggest supporter?

Luke contemplates for a moment in the silence of your bedroom. It’s much easier to think and have more adult… conversations… without the many meddling children of cabin 11 always asking for one more lullaby, one more glass of water, and one more tuck-in goodnight. Here in the privacy of your room, he gets to be a boy void of his responsibilities besides hiding under his girlfriend’s duvet, giving her another shirt of his to wear, and kissing her until Apollo’s rays of light gently help you wake.

“You tell me, Trouble. What does the future have in store for us?”

Us.

He’s sweet to indulge in your fantasies like this, and you stroke your fingers through his curls as you speak, ‘I think it’d be nice to go to college. Made it this far, so maybe being normal won’t be so hard…”

A soft noise leaves his throat, urging you to continue as you bite your lip and smile.

“Maybe someday, we could get a house. One on top of a hill. I don’t need much, something like the Big House, but one we can call home.”

You can feel the teeth of his sleepy grin against your skin as he whispers the next words into your heart.

“We could do that. House with big bay windows, and the smell of my mom’s chocolate chip cookies in the air. Sounds nice, baby.”

And it does.

Luke’s eyes flutter shut shortly after, but your mind is awake with how to make the dream you now share a reality. Perhaps you couldn’t give him glory, or pray hard enough to Hermes so that he’d talk to his son, but you reckon that chocolate chip cookies would be easy enough. 

—

At least, it was supposed to be—until you set off the smoke alarm again.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” 

Clouds of grey are billowing from the communal kitchen oven after your multiple attempts of trying to get this right. The dryads had both partially given up on the havoc you wrecked upon their workspace as well as your increasing frustration towards them. It wasn’t their fault, you knew that—but as a perfectionist who followed the recipe to a t, how was it possible that everything was still going wrong? The first batch, you got too excited and mixed all the ingredients together, making them lumpy and inconsistent. The second batch was over-creamed, and you had to scrape them off the tray, and with this one… well you had the oven setting on a bit too high.

You sigh deeply, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes as you try to will away the mania creeping up your neck. Being the daughter of the god of insanity was hard, having to consistently control your emotions for the sake of others. Taking a shaky breath, you stare blankly at the darkened cookies, close to being burned to a crisp. The jingle of the windchime against the door rings across the room and you barely hear it until you feel Luke’s hands skate past your waist to go open a window.

“What’d you get into now, Trouble? Been looking for you,” he says, coughing lightly from the smoke.

You groan, trying to cover the mess behind you on the counter and accidentally catching your arm on the hot tray, making you flinch.

“Ow! Ugh, babe, you’re not supposed to be here yet! I thought you were still sparring…”

Your boyfriend approaches you, squeezing your arm to examine if you’ve gotten hurt and tugging you towards him.

“That was an hour ago—how long have you been here, baby?” Luke pulls you into his arms, placing a kiss on your warm wrist, instantly soothing your anxiety until you see his eyes meet your latest failure.

“You bake now?”

“Clearly not, Luke, I’m sorry…I tried but I kept getting it wrong and then I got mad at myself for fucking up something so…” your voice weakens, tears welling in your eyes again thinking you’ve disappointed him.

Luke steps away from you and towards the kitchen counter, warm cookies browned to a crisp. He reaches out to pick one up before you can stop him, crunching down on it, the bittersweet taste filling his mouth as he sniffs.

Just like his mother would make them, through her madness and all.

He’s transported back to a memory of a house with big bay windows, kind of like the one you two dreamt up last night, but he’s nine and sitting at the kitchen table drinking Kool-Aid while his mom makes peanut butter sandwiches. May Castellan forgets the cookies in the oven again, and for a moment, Luke forgets that the last time he saw his mother was a lifetime ago. 

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels your fingertips brushing away the saltwater from his cheeks.

“Didn’t mean to make you cry, angelface, I’m sorry…” you mumble, but stop speaking when you see him take another bite.

“They’re great.”

“What?”

He chomps on another singed cookie, his lips quirking into a soft smile. Luke’s not going to let you throw the rest of this batch out. Chuckling weakly, he lifts you onto the kitchen counter as he slots himself between your legs, rough hands patting your thighs.

“Well, they’re not great. But they’re perfect. Just the way I remember them,” he smiles, kissing the furrow in your brow. You don’t bother trying to comprehend his statement, happy that you didn’t mess up a memory he holds dear. 

Luke wonders if maybe he’s been blessed by his father after all, to have such extreme luck to exist at the same time as you. He doesn’t answer to the gods, to fate, but he does answer when you call his name, and settles into your arms. Love is an action after all, uncontained by just words, and he knows you tried your best, which makes it more than enough.

“She would’ve loved you, I’m sure of it,” he says rubbing his nose against yours before you can interject again, “I love you, so I know she would’ve too.”

Luke presses a tender kiss against the palm that caresses his jaw, before meeting you in the middle and finding your lips. It’s a dance you two have memorized, sweet and breathless as you meld both of your grins together. To him, you taste like chocolate chips and feel like home.

“I love you too, angelface. Almost burned the kitchen down for you,” your chuckle is cut off when he goes to press against your pout again hungrily, tracing patterns against the soft skin of your thighs as he just eats you up. The sound of your moans escapes between kisses as you wind your legs around his waist and it dampens the sound of the kitchen timer when it goes off. 

(You forcibly have to detach from Luke’s embrace, much to his displeasure so that you don’t burn the next batch too.)

—

"Your name is humming inside my chest. I think this is what it means to love. I think this is what it means to be living." -Emma Bleker

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[meazalykov]

overstimulated

lea schüller x adhd!anxiety!reader

summary: it might feel like the world is ending for you, but lea is there is help.

warnings: tiny angst, the "downsides" to adhd!!, mentions of medicine, anxiety, I hope you enjoy.

it’s game day, and you’re a tangled mess of thoughts before the alarm even goes off. the energy of your mind that courses through you every morning feels magnified today, like your brain can’t decide if it’s excited or terrified. 

the champions league second leg against arsenal in london. a big match, sure, but after last month’s win, it should feel lighter, easier.

yet, your chest feels tight, your mind replaying every mistake you could possibly make, every way you might fall short. 

your foot taps against the floor as you sit on the edge of the bed, staring at your packed kit bag in the hotel room, unable to remember if you double checked the contents. 

you should feel confident. that first leg game was your best game in months. a goal and three assists.. people were raving about you, calling you a maestro. even your teammates had hugged you extra tight after the final whistle. 

yet, instead of holding onto that joy, your brain latched onto the thought that today won’t be the same. maybe you’ve peaked. maybe that was your limit. maybe today, you’ll mess up so badly that everyone will see through you, see how different you’ve always been.

lea stirs beside you, her sleepy voice pulling you out of your spiral. 

“baby, you’re tapping.” her hand reaches for yours, warm and grounding, wrapping around your restless fingers. 

“what’s going on?” 

you glance at her, your beautiful girlfriend, her soft blonde hair sticking up in places from sleep. she’s everything you wish you could see in yourself..kind, patient, steady. you hesitate, feeling a lump rise in your throat. 

how do you explain that it’s not just the game, not just the usual pre-match nerves? it’s the way your adhd always seems to betray you, even now, even after years of managing it. 

“just... thinking about the match,” you mumble, not meeting her eyes. 

lea’s not fooled, of course. she sits up, resting her chin on your shoulder, her voice soothing. 

“you have been amazing this season so far, and you’ll be amazing today. i know you feel a lot, but you’re not alone in this, okay?”

the blonde’s words should comfort you, and they do, a little. however, there’s that nagging voice in the back of your mind, whispering that you’re doing too much. too hyper when you’re happy, too irritable when overstimulated, too anxious all the time.

even with medication, even with years of practice, there are moments where it feels like your adhd is this shadow you can’t shake, this weight you can’t stop carrying.

the morning drags on in a blur. breakfast is a struggle..you can’t focus on the food in front of you, too busy replaying different scenarios in your head. what if you misplace a pass? what if you lose your marker? what if arsenal turns this match into a nightmare? 

lea’s presence helps, her gentle reminders to eat, to breathe, to focus on the present. she kisses your temple before you leave for the stadium, her lips lingering like she’s pouring all her love into you. 

“you’ve got this,” she says, her voice firm and full of belief. 

“no matter what happens, i’m so proud of you.”

on the bus to the stadium, you sit quietly, headphones on but not really listening to the music. your teammates chatter around you, relaxed and confident. you wish you could feel that way, but your heart races as the bus pulls closer. you zone out, daydreaming about the many scenarios that could take place today. 

stepping off the bus, the noise from outside grows, the chants echoing in your chest. you keep your head down, clutching your bag tightly as you follow the others inside. the locker room is its own storm of energy…laughter, shouts, the clatter of cleats on the floor. 

it’s a lot. you’re a lot. or at least, that’s how it feels. you try to center yourself, focusing on the routine: tape your wrists, lace your boots, warm up. the yelling in your head doesn’t stop, your thoughts racing faster with every passing second.

when warmups start, you feel the weight of the stadium’s gaze. every pass, every touch of the ball feels scrutinized, even though it’s just practice. you can hear the fans chanting, cheering, and it’s both exhilarating and overwhelming. 

your heart pounds, the familiar ache of doubt creeping in. the last game against arsenal feels like a distant memory now, like it happened to someone else entirely. you’re not sure if you’re ready for this.  

you catch lea’s eye from where she’s sitting on the bench, her hands cupped around her mouth as she shouts something you can’t quite make out. however, her smile…it’s the same soft, steady smile she always gives you, the one that says she sees you, really sees you, and loves you anyway. 

it’s the only thing that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’ll be okay.

well, 

you were not. 

the second half started much like the first…fast-paced, intense, and frustratingly scoreless. you were holding your own defensively, shutting down arsenal’s dangerous counters from players like beth and emily, but the anxiety bubbling in your chest wouldn’t settle. 

the bayern teammates of yours were playing well, yet it wasn’t enough to quiet the chaos in your head. the noise from the crowd, the shouts from the sidelines, even the sharp sound of cleats striking the ball…it all felt amplified, like the world was pressing down on you slowly and with torture. 

your adhd had been a constant companion for as long as you could remember, but today, it felt like it was running the show. every sound, every movement on the pitch seemed to pull at your focus, scattering your thoughts like a broken puzzle. 

one moment you were tracking arsenal’s number nine, the next your mind was stuck replaying a missed pass from ten minutes ago. even when you tried to shake it off, the nagging voice in your head wouldn’t stop: 

what if i am not good enough? what if this match proves it?

you tightened your jaw, forcing yourself to stay in the game. your body felt overstimulated, like your nerves were on high alert. the fabric of your jersey clung uncomfortably to your skin, the sweat dripping down your face stinging your eyes. 

it wasn’t just the physical discomfort; it was the weight of your own thoughts. they moved too fast, too loud, colliding in a whirlwind you couldn’t control. 

why can’t i just focus? why can’t i just be normal?

then came the clash with katie. it was the 80th minute, and arsenal had just launched another attack. you’d been frustrated all game, and katie had been particularly aggressive. 

when you collided mid-sprint, her shoulder digging into yours, it felt like a spark hitting dry kindling. the shove she gave you wasn’t unexpected..katie was known for her temper among the community. 

however, your reaction was. without thinking, you shoved her back, harder than you meant to. the force sent her stumbling, nearly to the ground.

the whistle blew sharp and loud, cutting through the noise of the game. suddenly, players from both teams surrounded you, their voices rising in protest. your heart pounded as you tried to explain yourself, but your words came out tangled. 

you weren’t like this. you were one of the the sweet ones, the calm one. this wasn’t you…but it was. your frustration, your overstimulation, your inability to control the buzzing chaos in your head,

it had boiled over. 

lea was there, her voice clear amidst the chaos. 

“hey! calm down!” she shouted, not just at the others but at you too. the blonde’s presence grounded you for a moment, but the panic was already setting in. your chest felt tight, your mind spinning faster than ever. you told yourself it would be fine, that things would calm down, but another part of your brain whispered the opposite. 

what if this ruins everything? what if they see me as a problem now?

the match ended 1-1, and relief washed over you, though it was fleeting. the whistle’s final blow signaled the end, but your thoughts refused to let go. 

you sank to the grass, pulling your knees up and burying your head in your hands. the world felt too big, too loud. your breath hitched as you fought back tears, your fingers curling into the blades of grass beneath you.

you felt someone’s hand on your back just a minute later..

klara knelt beside you, her voice soft. 

“hey, come on, let’s get inside.” her touch was gentle as she helped you up, guiding you toward the locker room. you didn’t resist, too drained to argue.

 once inside, away from the noise, you leaned against a wall, feeling the weight of everything crash down on you.

“don’t tell lea,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“please, just let her talk to obi or someone else. she doesn’t need to worry about me.” 

klara frowned, hesitating. 

“you know she’ll kill me if I don’t tell her that you’re not okay. you’re her whole world, y/n.”

you sighed, defeated. 

“fine. just… don’t make it a big deal.”

as if on cue, exactly one minute after klara left, lea jogged into the locker room, her eyes scanning until they landed on you. she rushed to your side, crouching in front of you. 

“what’s going on? klara said you weren’t okay.” her voice was soft, but her concern was clear.

you opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. the tears you’d been holding back spilled over, and you hated it. you hated feeling this vulnerable, hated not knowing why you felt so out of control. 

“i don’t know,” you choked out. 

“lea i really do not know! my mind… it won’t stop. it’s like i can’t slow it down, and i hate it. i hate this.”

lea pulled you into her arms, her hold firm but soothing. 

“it’s okay, baby. let it out. i’m here. you’re safe. its just us right now.”

as you sobbed into her shoulder, a thought struck you like lightning. 

“did i even take my medicine this morning?” you asked aloud, your voice shaky. your stomach dropped as realization dawned. 

“fuck,” you muttered. “i left it in munich. lea, i’m so sorry. i’m such an idiot.”

she pulled back slightly, her hands cupping your face. 

“hey, stop. you’re not an idiot. it happens. we’ll get through this, okay? tomorrow we’ll be on the plane home, and you can take it then. tonight, you just need to rest.”

lea’s voice was like a balm, calming the storm in your mind. she pressed her forehead to yours, her thumbs brushing away your tears. 

“you’re not alone in this. i’ve got you.”

she kissed the top of your forehead, as if to kiss the chaos in your mind away. your thoughts were cooling down, not so much as you tap your boot on the ground rapidly, but at least you had your lea– the woman who loved you regardless of yourself being ashamed for being neurodivergent. 

author's note: I kind of wrote this for myself as someone with both anxiety and adhd (and sometimes cannot tell the difference in my symptoms).

masterlist

[samsblades]

✶ out of my head — spencer reid

cw : gn!bau!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, mental exhaustion, very little dialogue, unedited, 985 words. requested ! for my 900 followers event [ closed ] .

prompt : a motel bathroom + “i can’t get you out of my head.”

the town is small, the case is hard, and the nights aren’t restful. for this week, it’s two to a seedy motel room. spencer’s your roommate this time around, which helps nothing at all. you should be used to how beautiful he looks when he’s sleepy and just woken up in the morning, but it makes your chest tighten to the point where you nearly stop breathing. it’s not as if you haven’t shared a room with him for a case before, but there’s some weird intimacy about sharing this room.

he’s in the bathroom, washing his hands, as he’s been doing often this trip. the first time you walked into the room with him, go-bags heavy after a long flight, he sprouted off some statistic regarding the cleanliness of motel rooms, or rather the lack thereof. you think he was trying to cover up how nervous it made him, and you offered to take his sheets and blanket to the laundromat you passed. the signage had told you that it’s always open late. you certainly wouldn’t mind extra clean sheets either.

he refused, though, saying he’d do it himself if he really needed to, and that you shouldn’t have to do that for him. but you don’t really think about it in terms of should or shouldn’t, more so that it makes you glad to do anything for him at all. you stay quiet though, and let this one slide. as long as he sleeps alright, it’s fine with you. 

sleeping well is a relative term, of course. it’s two in the morning right now, and you’ve just gotten back from the station. hotch sent you all to bed after a break in the case. the night shift detectives will keep working until you all get at least a bit of rest.

you drift over to the bathroom, its warm light casting spencer’s form in soft shadow. he hears your sigh before your quiet footsteps, and turns his neck to look at you. he gives you a soft smile, drying his hands on the small towel. you try not to stare; he has very pretty hands.

“hey,” he murmurs, making no move to leave the bathroom. he can tell by the way you padded over that you don’t actually need the room for anything. that, and you used it and brushed your teeth first thing after getting back. you’ve already donned your sleep clothes, too. you move forward, and he steps back, leaving room for you at the sink. the heels of your hands meet the cool ceramic of the sink as you lean against it, facing him from less than a foot away. the bathroom most definitely is not a generous size.

“hey,” you echo, voice just as soft as his. to him, you sound even more tired than usual. resigned, even. he’s trying to decide if you’ll respond decently to him asking if you’re okay. you speak again before he can decide. “spence?”

“yeah?” he wants to call you honey, but he doesn’t. but the way you say his name is begging for him to respond with equal sweetness and intimacy. or maybe honey is doubly sweet and intimate, but to him, your voice saying his nickname like that is the same as if you called him baby. he’s shy, but he wishes you’d call him that.

you look at him with sad eyes and he wishes that look would go away. i can’t get you out of my head, you want to say. “i’m tired,” is what comes out, anticlimactic and falling flat on the tile floor.

but his eyes fill with sympathy regardless and he gives a little frown on your behalf. even if you were going to say something else, the words that leave your lips are just as true. you are tired, very much so. not just from the case or the lumpy bed, but from everything, you suppose. it’s a bone deep type of exhaustion, and somehow your growing love for him is the only thing you can think about these days. it’s pressing to get out and make itself known, and now it feels heavy and oppressive.

“it’s been a long day,” spencer agrees. he knows how you feel, at least in terms of the exhaustions, and that it’s really not about just today. but he also knows that you know that, and that there’s not much to say. not right now, at least. it’s not the time for that sort of conversation, he can tell.

you swallow, suddenly nervous. you’re asking yourself why the hell you walked into this damn bathroom, put yourself so close to him without the option to actually close the distance. but you sort of just want to hug him. you want to get it off your chest, because you think it’ll make some of the exhaustion go away. though things could certainly get worse.

“i can’t get you out of my head, you know.” this time, the words slip out before you can stop them. you’re not sure if it’s the right thing to say, the right way to tell him, but you suppose the meaning is implied and that you’ve gone out and said it, finally. that makes your shoulders drop, and a relieved huff of breath leaves your lips. even if he doesn’t feel the same, at least you’ve said it.

most other days, spencer would’ve kissed you, maybe after clumsily telling you that he can’t get you out of his head either. but today, you’re sagging and tired, so he pulls you into his arms with a certain sort of ease that tells you he doesn’t mind being close to you. he likes it, even. he presses a kiss to the bare skin of your forehead, and that’s your answer. he’ll stay stuck in your head, but it will be far more bearable because he loves you back.

[hoezhatelola]

bakugou was the type of boyfriend who always put you first. any lingering eyes that explored your form in their minds were set straight, to say the least. your favorite moments with him were the ones that just had the two of you.

yes, you loved that late nights he’d spend rubbing gentle circles on your clit in the darkness of your room whilst whispering dirty words into your ear. you lived for his hands squeezing your hips and his tongue digging deep into your cunt.

you also loved the nights where you’d pass out on the couch waiting for him to come home from hero work, and you’d wake up around 1 a.m. to him lifting you up like his sweet, precious doll, and bringing you to your shared bed. he’d always take care to wrap you up first and adjusting your pillows how he knows you like them.

after he’d make sure you were good and comfortable, he’d gently get into bed right next to you and wrap an arm around your waist, spooning you from behind.

your eyes fluttered open for a moment, and we’re met with the complete darkness of the room. you could faintly smell bakugou’s cologne and you could feel his breath on your neck.

“kats?” you muttered tiredly, backing up further into his chest. his hand caressed your head and brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear. you melted into his touch as tired butterflies erupted in your chest.

“i’m here, baby. go to sleep, my love.” he said in your ear, planting a few kisses on your neck, jaw, and cheek. he squeezed you into him even closer, and you giggled.

“can you even breathe, kats?” you asked, turning around slightly to only see the outline of his face from within the darkness.

“mhm,” he muffled a reply with a low chuckle.

you pulled your head away in attempt to help him breathe, but he took a large hand and pulled you closer once more. “stop moving awayyy,” he hummed.

“kats, i know you can’t breathe with my hair all in ya face stop lying,” you laughed, still sleepy. he shook his head and breathed in the scent of your fresh shampoo.

he lived for moments like this, and so did you. his heart was now beating at 90 mph in his chest, the sound of your gentle laughter filling him with a rush of serotonin. he loved you more than the world, but his job as a pro-hero was time consuming. he wished he could spend more time with you, but there’s not much he can do to change his random schedules.

“i’m fine.. now sleep baby,” he muttered into your head, getting sleepy himself.

you hummed in response, drifting away once more into his arms.

“but wait,” he said after a moment, “i love you,” he added. a smile appeared on your tired expression. you looked back and planted a droopy kiss onto his lips.

“i love you more… and back up because i know you can’t breathe you liar.” you joked more. he ignored your protests and nuzzled further into your warmth.

“who says i need to breathe to live? as long as i have you i’m fine.”

quick lil bakugou fluff 💕 i’m obsessed w this man.

[pullupinarari]

how abt this one one for the blurb? lewis in the home gym working out, shirtless. reader came it to bring some water to make sure he's hydrated bcs it's been hours. "why are you working out so much today?" "have to. apparently my wife no longer caresses my abs or even cling to my arms anymore" "I HAD TO GO TO THE OFFICE FOR SMTH URGENT THIS MORNING AND IT WAS ONLY ONE TIME!?"

idk maybe my idea is shit. i am soo sorryyyy

a/n: okay so: this started like mentioned above, but it took a HUGE turn, and I couldn’t help myself and changed it a (huge) bit 😭 I still want to credit this original idea because I’m still referencing some of the parts in it. I’m so sorry! Apparently I can’t comply with requests anymore 😭 girlies this is VERY suggestive so beware

Grabbing your belongings, you get ready to leave your house. Reaching for your husband’s side of the bed, you lean to land a quick kiss on his lips, saying goodbye to his sleepy figure entangled in the sheets.

“Can’t you stay a little longer?” - he groans, his voice laced with sleep as he dives his face deeper on the pillow, while you walk to the bedroom door.

A sigh escapes your lips. “I wish, love. But you know that whenever my boss calls, it’s because it’s really an emergency. I’ll try my best to be back soon, though” - a reassuring smile spreads across your face as you blow him one last kiss before heading to work.

Lewis sighs as he reaches to hold your pillow close to his chest now, inhaling the remains of your scent still lingering on the fabric. He just wanted to have some more minutes with you - he wanted you to warm his body a little more, his fingers were craving to travel through your skin more… and maybe light up a fire inside of you, one that would ignite your senses so much that your mind would forget about all work emergencies.

The thoughts seem very enticing to him, but unfortunately, you’re not by his side to bring them to life, so he decides to try and get some sleep. However, when he closes his eyes, it’s like he can feel all the sensations running through his veins. Goosebumps adorn his skin when he pictures your figure in front of him, his hands absently gripping the sheets as his brain recreates the feeling of your nails scratching their way down his chest, touching his abs until you reach the waistband of his shorts.

The heat running through him makes him open his eyes, only to face the disappointment of the fact that you’re still not by his side. Huffing loudly, Lewis decides to leave the bed, heading to his gym room after having breakfast - desperately in need of something that can help him relieve all the energy boiling inside of him.

He doesn’t even notice the time passing by while he is focused on his exercises, the adrenaline making him feel like he could go on for hours now. In the middle of his gym session, you get home, searching for him around the house, only to find a shirtless Lewis lifting weights like it’s nothing.

Your eyes can’t help but navigate through his sweaty torso, silently envying how every drop of sweat slowly delves into the definition of his muscles. Your mind goes back to how warm and comfortable your position felt on the bed this morning, how dreadful your morning was at work, wishing you could have just stayed by your husband’s side.

“I can feel you staring, baby” - his words wake you from your trance, a small blush creeping through your features as you get closer to him.

He stops his actions, breathing heavily as his eyes lock with yours, collecting every single detail of your beauty and saving it in his brain. “I’m finally back from work” - you tell him, reaching to connect your lips in a sweet, long kiss, that Lewis refuses to let you break. “Finally” - he repeats, pecking your lips again before trying to wrap his arms around your figure.

With the tip of your finger pushing him back slightly, you set yourself free from his lips. “How long have you been here? You’re excessively sweaty” - you note, watching how Lewis takes the distance between your bodies to drink some water.

“Since you left for work” - he tells you like it’s nothing.

Your eyebrows knit together at his reply. “Lewis, it’s been hours. Are you that obsessed with this new exercise routine that you have now?” - you question, wrapping your arms in front of your body.

He tries to get closer to you, only to see you run away again when his arms try to reach for your waist. “Apparently, I need to give you more reasons to stay in bed with me” - he says as you stop in your tracks, using the opportunity to run his lips over the skin of your neck, leaving some hot kisses on your sweet spot.

The feeling of his wet lips caressing you, along with how heavenly his voice sounds in your ear, his heavy breathing making the room around you feel small - your own breath gets caught in your throat, your mind is cloudy, making it hard for you to process his words.

“Huh?” - it’s all you can say, not having the train of thought to form a more elaborated phrase right now.

Lewis smirks to himself at the way he’s got you now. Distancing your bodies, he looks you in the eyes. “Maybe you don't find me hot enough anymore to ditch your work over your husband's presence. Perhaps, I need to define my abs a little more. Or lift some more weight so you can hold yourself to my arms again” - he tells you, not wanting to admit that he had to find a way to let go of all the energy running through his body, distracting him from his dirty thoughts, due to how needy he feels since you’ve left this morning.

You scoff at his words. “Baby, I had to go to the office to solve an emergency. It’s only been a couple of hours. Plus, it was only today! It’s not like this happens every day, you’re being the usual drama king that you are” - you point out with a chuckle leaving your mouth.

But Lewis’ face grows serious, his eyes getting big while he looks at you. “Yeah, and now you are running away from me, from my touch. You don't want me to hold you anymore? You don’t want to be in my arms?” - he asks you with a serious tone now.

You stop for a minute, analyzing the sad expression on his face, matching with how hurt his voice sounds now, startling you from your playful manner.

“Baby, no. Are you crazy? No, no, look at me. It’s none of that, silly. It’s just because I showered this morning, and you’re drenched in sweat. Of course I want to be in your arms, love” - you assure him, walking in his direction while being honest to him now.

With a mischievous grin showing up on his face, your husband catches you off guard, wrapping his arms around your figure as he rubs his toned, sweaty chest in yours, a loud laugh escaping him as he hears all your screams and protests.

“No! Lewis, what the fuck! This is gross!” - you complain, but not doing much to free yourself from his hold.

“Oh, so I’m gross now?” - he tries to ask you with a serious tone again, but his character disappeared already, giggling while he looks at you with a huge smile on his face.

“Stop it, dramatic ass. Being covered in your sweat like this is gross” - you explain, feeling his mouth traveling from your cheek to your earlobe.

“Now you have an excuse to shower with me” - he says with the cheekiest of tones in his voice, making you roll your eyes playfully.

Giving in, you finally wrap your arms around his neck, feeling how his hands are immediately magnetized to your hips, so your bodies can now feel each other completely. Humming at his offer, you question: “Oh, so this was your plan all along?” - lowering your tone as you lazily bite his bottom lip.

“Well, I do think you should cheer me up after all the suffering that I’ve been through today. And I tend to know just a very nice way for you to do so… a way that will also end up with your body covered with my sweat, but this time you won’t complain about it” - he says, the fire in his eyes visible already as his lips explore yours once again. The kiss is deeper this time, your tongues exploring both of your intentions behind it, your bodies speaking for yourselves as Lewis picks you up, carrying his wife to the shower - so he can finally turn his thoughts into reality, your provocative touch on his skin letting him know that you are there for him, to make up for the hours away, for not staying in bed longer with his needy, clingy, horny self.